#going back further but in high school i would go to the library when i wasn't supposed to and the librarian would smile and nod at me

[e-the-village-cryptid]

if I had a nickel for every time someone walked within 4 feet of me sitting incredibly obviously in plain view and did not notice me there until I made them aware of my presence at which point they were hugely startled I would have almost a dollar now which is pretty fucken weird guys what is going on

[jlheon]

౨ৎ — love exists, i’m full of it (psh)

pairing. situationship! park sunghoon x fem! reader genre. angst + fluff + suggestive wc. 2745 notes. sunghoon is toxic + implied they are involved sexually + kinda fwb (?) library.

🗯️ extra peng note. i wish i redeemed sunghoon more but you can take the rushed ending as you will </3

synopsis. when park sunghoon breaks up with his long time girlfriend he needs something to get his mind off her, you happen to be the perfect distraction : a girl who’s naive and has never had a boyfriend

it has been five months since you started your sort of 'arrangement’ with park sunghoon.

you met him at a party. a party you had no business being at.

the party was your average frat party. you were only there to pick up your drunk friend, only to be left banging on the bathroom door for twenty minutes.

she was there with some unknown guy and she told you to go home.

you tried to get through the sea of sweaty bodies when you bumped into someone's hard chest. his drink spilled all over your white shirt, making the drenched fabric completely see through.

you recognized sunghoon as the quiet boy from high school. he never spoke and he was barely present in class, you were bewildered when you watched him walk the stage at graduation.

he seemed to have recognized you too.

you were even prettier than he remembered. that night let himself be a little selfish.

sunghoon was quick to apologize and lead you to his room to lend you a clean shirt.

you ended up staying longer than expected.

sunghoon helped you out the wet shirt, throwing it in his laundry basket, and telling you that he would get out the stain for you.

when sunghoon helped you slip into one of his old shirts he let himself act without thinking.

“my shirt looks good on you,” sunghoon licks his lips as he shamelessly checks you out.

“oh,” you blush, staring at the floor. “thank you.”

“you know,” sunghoon comes closer to whisper in your ear. “you grew up well, i haven’t seen you since graduation.” that was a year ago.

that night, at the age of 19, park sunghoon had successfully taken your first kiss. well, kisses plural. sunghoon had also taken your first make-out.

after an awkward first kiss, you got the hang of it.

sunghoon found it adorable. he could tell you had never kissed anyone before, and you had even outright told him before he leaned it.

your kisses were innocent and shy, nothing like his ex-girlfriend.

he had to place your hands on his shoulders since you stood there with your arms at your sides awkwardly.

sunghoon tried to advance with you once it got steamy but you lightly pushed him off of you.

“sorry,” you apologized. “i’ve never done it before. that was my first kiss,” you sat on his lap with flushed cheeks and tousled hair from sunghoon running his fingers through it.

“that’s okay,” he reassured you. “i wouldn’t want to force you to do anything.”

you try to get up from your spot but sunghoon is stronger than you. he has a firm grip on your hips as he stares into your eyes.

“you’re leaving already?” sunghoon pouts, he's so cute you contemplate kissing him again.

“i mean yeah,” you scratched the back of your neck. “i thought you were looking for a hookup.”

“you don’t want to go further and that’s okay,” sunghoon explains. “but that doesn’t mean you can’t stay.”

you’re even more flustered at his words. why would park sunghoon want to be close to you?

you accept his offer nonetheless. slipping into his arms as you lay on his bed.

sunghoon listens to you ramble about anything. from what you did today leading up to this moment and to the fact you have never had a boyfriend before. you can’t stop talking when your nervous, and park sunghoon makes you even more than nervous.

you’re scared you’re talking too much but sunghoon’s short comments and hums tell you to keep going.

at 12:08 you realize you should probably get back to your dorm.

sunghoon walks you down to your car, holding you close as you weave through the crowd of drunk bodies at the party. he kisses you goodbye before you drive off as a blushing mess.

in the morning, you excitedly tell your hungover roommate about the encounter you had with the mysterious boy from high school.

she informs you the night before you met sunghoon was the very night he and his long-term girlfriend had broken up.

truthfully, hearing that made you feel kind of sad.

two days later he finally texts you that you can come over to exchange shirts.

when sunghoon sees you standing at the door of the frat he can’t help but think about how much prettier you look in the daylight.

clad in a cute pink dress as you stare up at him with your doe eyes, holding his shirt neatly folded in your arms.

he doesn’t think twice before letting you inside and leading you up to his room again.

you end up kissing for an ungodly amount of time. when you don’t feel like it anymore, you find the courage you had in you from the self-pep talk you had before coming and ask him.

“is it true you just broke up with your ex?” you ask while you lean on his chest as you're cuddled up on his bed.

“yeah,” sunghoon replies, eyes still glued to his phone.

“oh,” you frown. “are you over her?”

“it’s only been four days silly,” sunghoon chuckles, setting his phone to look down at you. “of course, i’m not.”

“oh,” you say again. “what is this then?”

“what is what?” sunghoon quirks an eyebrow at you.

“you took my first kiss,” you reminded him, hoping that would mean anything.

“oh,” he says slowly. “this could be a causal thing. you know while i’m getting over her you can get experience.”

“oh i see,” you look at the ceiling.

sunghoon moves down to peck your pouting lips. “so when you get a real boyfriend you’ll know everything since you learned from the best!”

that stung, but regardless you kiss him again to get your mind off of it.

now, three months later since the start of this arrangement, you’ve found sunghoon everything but casual.

for crying out loud, you’re sitting at a fancy restaurant on a date with sunghoon for your birthday.

“happy birthday ____,” sunghoon smiles as he spoon-feeds you the desert he ordered.

“thank you, sunghoon,” you giggle, eating the cake as he watches.

once you’re finished with your bite sunghoon leans in, pecking your lips and licking the bit of icing on the corner of your mouth.

not a day goes past where you don’t wonder why this hasn’t ended and why sunghoon doesn’t want to be your first boyfriend.

every time sunghoon’s name leaves your mouth you’re reminded of the time two months ago when you tried to call him hoon.

he ghosted you for a week after the nickname slipped during a heated make out session in your dorm room.

“i don’t think you should call me hoon,” sunghoon stands at your door, a week after the incident, a week after you last saw him. “you’re starting to sound like you’re my girlfriend.”

“oh,” you stare at him, the sleepiness leaving your body. “of course, i get it!” you force a small smile.

sunghoon enters your dorm at 2:18 am.

he walks towards your bed before getting comfortable under your covers with his arms open. you find yourself wrapped up in his embrace that night and well into the afternoon.

you take note of how he doesn’t kiss you the whole day he spends at your place.

you don’t know whether that is a good or bad thing. on one hand, maybe he is disgusted with you for calling him by a nickname but that wouldn’t make any sense considering the fact he has not let you go in the past six hours. though you hope that this means he finds companionship in you that is more than just the kissing and hookups.

you know you should have stood up a while ago but when sunghoon’s hands find their way into your hair to gently scratch your scalp you give in.

sunghoon and you spend the night together for your birthday. when you wake up skin to skin with him, you start to feel sick.

what the hell have you gotten yourself into?

you’re not even sure what you should label the relationship you and sunghoon have.

sunghoon is your friend. a friend that the first time you talked to him in over a year, took you back to his bedroom door and took your first kiss.

sunghoon is also the closest thing you have ever had to a lover. he’s taken almost all of your firsts. whether that is your first kiss or your first time. he takes you on dates and he never leaves in the middle of the night.

he’s always there for you when you need a ride after a night out with your friends.

which leads you to the latest encounter you’ve had with park sunghoon.

you were so drunk. unbelievably drunk.

it’s been five months since you have started seeing sunghoon and coincidentally the same month your best friend returned from her exchange student program abroad.

you went out for drinks to catch up with her and inevitably spilled your guts about the whole sunghoon situation.

and now you’re wasted with all of your friends with nobody to call and get you but him.

“____?” his raspy voice reverberates in your ear.

“hoon! oh my god, sorry! i mean sunghoon!” your cheery voice slurs. “are you busy?”

“it’s two am,” he responds sarcastically, but your hazy mind doesn’t let you recognize that.

“oh, sorry for bothering you then,” you apologize.

“i’m kidding ____,” sunghoon chuckes. “you need anything?”

“if it’s not a bother, can you pick me up?”

“where are you?” you hear his sheets rustle in the background.

“i’m at a club!” you giggle. “not sure which one!”

“____,” sunghoon sighs. “send me your location.”

“okay!”

when sunghoon arrives at your location he easily spots you drunk on the sidewalk. sitting on the disgusting pavement but you were too drunk and tired to care.

he gets out and carefully gets you into the passenger’s side of his car, buckling you in as you were too sleepy to do it yourself.

once sunghoon can get you inside of your apartment he helps you take off your shoes. carrying your tired body from the car to the hallway to your bed. taking off your makeup with some micellar water even though he saw makeup wipes in your cabinet because he knows they break you out.

he grabs a hoodie that he coincidentally had been looking for off your dresser and changes you out of the short red dress you had been wearing.

sunghoon tucks you under the covers before he sits on the empty side of the bed. he checks his phone to see it is way past three am and he decides maybe he should just stay the night. you’d think that after how long you two have been seeing each other you’ve spent the whole night together but sunghoon always insists on leaving or driving you home. he does this because ‘we aren’t a couple’.

“why are you still here?” you break the silence, which shocks sunghoon as he was sure you were completely knocked out.

“you scared me,” sunghoon breathily chuckles. “thought you were asleep.”

“‘m waiting for you to leave,” you yawn out, snuggling further into your duvet, sunghoon can’t help the smile breaking onto his face at the sight.

“why?” he questions, climbing under the covers next to you.

“don’t wanna embarrass myself in front of you,” you answer meekly. “you make me nervous.”

“don’t be silly ____, it’s just me,” sunghoon attempts to reassure you.

“that’s the problem,” you mumble, confusing sunghoon further. “being around you is weird because we’re re not dating but sometimes it feels like we are.”

“i guess so,” he stares at the side of your face, admiring how you look even prettier without makeup on while he can, given the fact you never let him see you without makeup. he doesn’t understand why. “but i’ve seen you in so many different states.”

“i kind of hate that,” you confess. “i’ve always wanted to fall in love. you check off almost everything ten year old me wished for, except for the fact we’re not dating, and you like me like that anyways.”

you never fail to make park sunghoon speechless.

“i just know little me is screaming at me,” you giggle, though your mood changes drastically. “i know that love is real because i exist and i’m unfortunately full of it, but i think i have too much already so nobody is going to give me any back.” you shift away from him.

“that’s not true,” sunghoon takes a deep breath before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

“then why can’t it be you?” your voice falters as tears well up in your eyes. “i want it to be you.”

“i can’t answer that right now,” sunghoon says apologetically, holding you closer.

he does not get any sleep that night. his eyes don’t even shut, only closing for a second to blink. sunghoon cannot stop thinking about your tearful confession.

your words replay in his mind like a broken record.

he wants to be with you so bad but he fears that once you establish your relationship he’s going to be the worst boyfriend imaginable. since that’s what his ex and him had constantly fought over, leading to the demise of their relationship.

he’s never shared with anyone how toxic him and his ex were.

so when he met you that night at the party he let his selfishness take over him. the way you were so sweet and shy towards him was so refreshing.

sunghoon knows it was wrong to string you along so he could use you to get over his ex girlfriend, but he couldn’t just let you go, but he also couldn’t jump into another relationship so quickly.

he failed to consider how this whole arrangement would make you feel. you’d been seeing each other for nearly half a year now, way longer than either of you anticipated.

but now he knows that you stuck around even though it was doing nothing but hurt you just because he had you completely wrapped around his finger.

you wanted to love him and he didn’t think he could be good enough to give you the love you dreamed about.

sunghoon thought he was a total douche.

the next morning you're surprised to feel a pair of arms around you. maybe you finally broke out of your shell last night and met someone at the bar who wasn’t sunghoon.

sunghoon can’t bear to hurt you, but it seems like he’s already been doing that all along.

“you’re awake,” you hear his familiar voice and slip out of his hold, sitting up, and scooting away.

“i am,” you reply, looking down at your clothes. “why are you still here?”

“am i not allowed to be?” sunghoon jokes, his eyebags prominent.

“i mean,” you scratch your head. “after what i said last night i thought you would hate me. this is only supposed to be casual and i ruined it.”

“you didn’t ruin anything,” sunghoon sits up and reaches for your hand to interlace it with his. “it’s my fault for-”

“no, don’t blame yourself. i knew what i was getting into and i assumed you would like me given time. i just hope we can still be friends,” your glossy eyes bore into his.

“i don’t want to be friends-”

“wow, okay. after i just spilled my guts?” you pull your hand away from his and back away.

“stop cutting me off,” sunghoon runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “i want to be your boyfriend.”

“am i still drunk,” you whisper to yourself as you check your surroundings.

“you’re sober now,” sunghoon reaches out for you once more. “let me be your boyfriend, please?”

you stare at sunghoon’s desperate and tired expression and crack a smile. throwing yourself into his lap. “not yet,” you say, muffled against his neck, as close to him as possible.

“this can be a restart,” you suggest, gazing up at him. “i think i’ll need some time.”

“can’t be a restart when i’ve seen every inch of you,” sunghoon smirks as he looks down.

“shut up!” your ears redden as you push his shoulder.

“take you all the time you need,” sunghoon pecks your forehead. “i’m always waiting for you and i’ll prove myself.”

[prael]

pas de deux - IVE An Yujin (ft. Jang Wonyoung)

Part 1 of folie à deux.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

18+ An Yujin (and Jang Wonyoung) x Male Reader smut

Masterlist Word Count: 7,727

folie à deux - folly (madness) of two pas de deux - a dance for two

It's survival—that's how you mask it.

It's the hard reality you tell yourself to justify being the pseudo-servant to these two girls, just to make the year as easy as possible so you can graduate. Playing their games. Never questioning their words or actions. The house of cards they've built is fragile but they keep it in check.

Somehow, you're one of the cards, one wall of the house. You've only been in the school a month. The fresh-faced transfer who fell into the grasp of the two girls who practically run the place. You can't deny it has its benefits. Like every one of Yujin and Wonyoung's friends, no one ever questions anything and you would never run the risk of falling into the bad books of school bullies.

Oh, and you also get to fuck Wonyoung senseless.

Luckily, the walls of the library are thick, everyone else is in class and the library door is locked. Or someone would have heard the squirming Wonyoung moaning expletives by now.

"Harder." Her nails threaten to pierce the skin. Claws gripped to your forearm. Her words are sharper still, cutting through the air with the same lethality as her looks. "Stop, stop, stop. Hand, there. Circles, remember. And go fucking harder will you?" You position as instructed, how you know she likes it. There's no room for creative freedom here—it's Wonyoung's way or it's no way.

But, god. She knows exactly how to break you—just enough that when she puts you back together, your mismatched pieces slot perfectly into her shape, allowing her to completely mould and manipulate you at her will, at her whim. And oh, does she love when you let her.

"That's it, there. Yes!" Wonyoung presses the heel of her foot into the small of your back, pushing you further in, urging you closer and deeper, drawing a hoarse groan from her throat. She's sprawled flat on the desk, on the second floor of the library. You're looking over the balcony, down at the empty room. It's almost monotonous, it happens at the same time every week. Hidden in the same top corner of the same library, at the same time on the same day. You've got her legs spread and your cock in her cunt.

Your fingers are digging into her thighs, pinning her hips to the desk. You don't falter once, going exactly as fast, exactly as hard, and exactly as deep as she likes it. Her movements are in tune with yours. Familiarity. Wonyoung's perfectly groomed eyebrows are furrowed, heart-shaped lips pursed, eyes scrunched shut.

"You're close, right? I can feel it..." Your words come out ragged and laboured. This isn't supposed to feel good for you, you aren't supposed to have an opinion. It's her own fantasy—an excuse for her to let herself get fucked like a little whore without question or consequence—your body's just along for the ride. You're not an actor in the scene, not a participant. You are the means to an end; a character-prop. Something to be used by the main character. To further her plot.

She responds with a shaky mewl that turns into a string of frantic cries, her slender, legs locking around you.

It ends how it always ends.

She cums. Hard.

You don't. Too messy, she says. You can't cum inside, you can't cum on her and you can't just cum on the library desk. Too risky and unhygienic. It's almost cute watching her try to cover up her gasp and squeal as she rides her high, biting down onto her soft sleeve, probably tearing through a layer of fabric with her pearly whites.

That's just how it is with Wonyoung.

***

"There you are!" Yujin is by your side and snaking her arm around yours, holding you just above the elbow and leaning against you. "Where's Wony?"

"Probably halfway down the highway by now, her boyfriend picked her up fifteen minutes ago," you explain as if it's the most normal thing in the world that Wonyoung hopped off your cock and into her boyfriend's car in the space of ten minutes. But that’s the life she lives—you live.

"You can take me straight home then, let's go." Yujin smiles up at you with her signature grin and those half-moon eyes. If Wonyoung were the definition of danger, Yujin was still just that, but wrapped up in cotton wool and given to a puppy. Her playful expression could melt even the hardest heart, and yet, thanks to her money, she too could get away with just about anything.

At least Yujin made your life easier. There was a little more give and take in your friendship—unlike with Wonyoung.

Still, you wonder exactly how the two of them do it. The whole school around their little fingers. The teachers—they overlook Wonyoung's little indiscretions as soon as the excuses leave her pretty little mouth, so convincing is her act. And then there's Yujin, she—

"You bitch!" In sync, you and Yujin look away from each other and towards the two young ladies holding each other by handfuls of hair. You don't know either of them, but they are blocking the way to your car.

"What's going on here?" asks Yujin, speaking louder than normal to ensure that her voice breaks through the constant bickering. The voices quieten and the hands release their grips, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

The pair turn to you both as they both speak at the same time. "This whore took my earrings!" One points at the other.

"Yeah? These are my earrings. How dense can you be?" one fires back, clearly pissed off, making exaggerated hand gestures for emphasis.

"Bitch, they belong to me! Stop taking things that aren’t yours, you slut! This is you and Jisun’s boyfriend all over again!"

"Ladies, please," Yujin says calmly, in just those two words she captivates attention. "You girls are friends, right?" She doesn’t give time for a response. "Well, if you're really friends, you'll sit and talk about this instead of pulling each other's hair. And if I'm being totally honest, those earrings don't exactly look worth the effort."

They lower their fists slowly, looking a little less angry now and more embarrassed to be told off. You half expect a little, "yes, mother" and an apology from them.

"Great!" Yujin says after some silence. She tugs gently on your arm, strutting between the two girls with you in tow. They stand and watch as you pass by. You only get a step or two past them before Yujin stops.

She turns to face the girls, still staring wide-eyed at the two of you. "Actually, aren't you girls forgetting something? You owe us both an apology."

The two exchange glances, looking surprised by the statement. "Wh-what for?" one asks, eyes darting nervously between you and her friend, who seems equally puzzled.

"For being in our way." The pair look around and suddenly notice the small crowd around you, phones pulled out, cameras glaring. They pale almost immediately. And you can see that they know this only ends one way. Because no one says no to Yujin.

The girls nervously get down on their knees and bow their heads. "I-I'm sorry!"

"We're sorry!"

"Excuse us!"

"Please forgive us!" They're flustered, apologizing to you and Yujin as though their lives depend on it. It feels like forever has passed when Yujin finally laughs and turns away.

"Have a lovely evening, ladies," she says in a tone sweeter than sugar, leaving the girls kneeling and guiding you again towards your car.

For all intents and purposes, these two girls are fucking crazy.

Delusional.

folie à deux

***

"You will stay and eat. I insist." It's ever so clear where she gets it from. Just like his daughter, Yujin's father simply would not take "no" for an answer. You know that really, you have no choice but the lock the car and follow Yujin up the steps into her house.

"Make sure our guest is comfortable." He glances at the maid to signal her. You notice a flinch, though only passing—the girl is nervous. No one can relax when they're in the presence of an Ahn. After his instruction, he walks into the door without another word.

You make the climb Yujin had not two minutes earlier, up the stairs and into the front door of the house, through the door left open, which the maid closes behind you.

The mansion's interior is exactly what you expect—luxurious, opulent and vast. But where you thought there might be a hint of the gaudy and tacky, there is only tasteful, expensive decorating, the finest of furniture, and grandeur befitting the family who owns it. As always, there's not a thing out of place.

Yujin's at the top of the stairs. She has already swapped out her formal blouse for a comfortable t-shirt, but she still wears the pleated skirt she did before, sitting just above the knee. "Couldn't escape father then? I think he likes you."

"He doesn't show it if he does." You shrug.

"He didn't wave you away without a word. That means he likes you." Yujin speaks as she walks down the stairs towards you. Off somewhere to your right, you hear the busywork of the kitchen, preparing the food he insisted you eat. "It's funny because I can't think why..."

She mocks you in the way she always does, with a grin on her face.

"It must be my wit, charm, personality, and incredible looks," you tell her with a wry smile.

"Huh... I didn't know my dad was gay."

"Shame he's not really my type." It's your turn to grin now.

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, that's an understatement. I know your type."

"Maybe you do," you say while climbing the stairs to meet her at the top.

She stares you down for a moment and you wait for her latest quip. She eventually looks over your shoulder, down the stairs to the maid. Yujin informs her, "We will eat in the upstairs lounge."

***

"And Gaeul, did you hear?" Yujin can barely contain her excitement as she slams her chopsticks on the table. The conversation had been flowing for a while now, mostly from Yujin as she fills you in with all the recent gossip on people you barely know.

"Which one is she again?" This one you already know, but you always enjoy the way she describes and introduces her friends. It’s so often so unserious.

"Kim Gaeul, the one in my dance class." Yujin pauses. Her eyes roll. "You know the one. Short hair, even shorter skirt. Cute smile, even cuter ass?"

That would probably narrow it down.

"Okay, but what about her?"

"Well you know that guy she's dating? The German guy?" The love lives of Yujin's friends are a bit of a blur. The more you hear about them, the less sense it all makes. "He proposed!"

"They are that serious?"

"Very! I guess it was love at first sight. Gaeul certainly saw something she liked."

"They're still young. It's a big commitment."

"But, if you want something, you should take it," Yujin affirms.

"Just like a criminal," you joke.

Yujin giggles. Something is charming about Yujin's laughter. There's an innocence and lightheartedness to her that brings you a sense of tranquillity. Suddenly, a weight rests on your shoulder. A chin nestles into the side of your neck. Warm, moist air fills your ear, "Maybe you could learn a thing or two. Life's too short to wait around and hesitate."

The weight and air vanish, and suddenly you feel cold. Yujin's French perfume lingers in your nose. "And it's good for her right, she must be getting fucked a lot." Yujin continues as normal as though the moment never happened. She picks up a piece of meat between her chopsticks, taking care not to get the sauce all over her. She brings it closer to her lips, smiling ever so slyly the whole way.

Yujin takes a drink before she continues, “and so Rei said to her that…”

She continues onto rest of the story and the many more after which you don’t really pay attention to, the moment before still lingering on your mind.

***

"As delicious as always." The two of you had spent at least an hour in the upstairs lounge, eating as you talked, catching up with events, and then talking about nothing in particular.

The maid bows at your compliment before taking away the tray of leftovers and leaving the room.

Yujin lay her arms over her chest as she leans back into the couch. Her eyes roll as her head falls to the side, staring over at the bookcase behind you.

"I hate reading." You can hear her disgust in her tone. "Dull, pointless, useless, boring..."

Yujin stops, eyes fixed upon you. Her eyebrows pull together with curiosity. "But you must love it, right?"

"There are worse hobbies."

She gives a thin-lipped grin, unconvinced. Yujin tilts her head to the other said, hair thrown over her head to settle on the other side, "do you, though? Because you and Wonyoung spend a lot of time in the library."

She knows. Of course she knows.

"Just studying." You smile weakly and give an awkward laugh, running your hand through your hair. 

"Wonyoung doesn't study." She says that flatly, cutting the air. Yujin may well be the only person in the school who dares to question the actions of her best friend. She has no interest in playing along with the lie.

You sit in silence. Any excuse would only be an insult to her intelligence.

"You're lucky really," she muses, her fingers absentmindedly tugging at the frilled edge of her skirt. Yujin makes a conscious effort to cross her long legs, exposing the small expanse of creamy flesh where the skin between the hem and knee socks met.

"Why is that?" you ask, with eyes fixed firmly on the tantalising flesh.

"Every other guy in school would kill for an hour alone with Wonyoung." Yujin purred.

"A bit drastic. They want what any young, single man would want."

"Hmm, those poor things are a second away from cumming in their pants just being in the same room as her."

Yujin gave a delightful, innocent-girl smile, contrasting with her crass language. She wore her angel-like grin with a devil's look. "Not you though. Which is exactly why she wants you."

"Why?" Your eyes flicker to the floor, away from Yujin. The thoughts circle.

"Like I said: they're far too eager for her to respect them, but not you. No." She spoke clearly, firmly. "The way you stare at her, it's almost as if you don't care that much for her."

"Not sure I understand. She is a friend, I care." you admit.

"But you don't beg it like the other boys do. She must find that attractive about you, not being desperate, but still willing." Her legs uncross slowly, tortuously so, pulling her legs apart ever so slightly. She smooths the crease of the pleats over her thighs.

You sense a chance to turn the wind and sail the conversation in Yujin's direction. "What about you? The one boy from art class seems really desperate to get close to you."

The vaguest flash of surprise came across her eyes, as if you'd interrupted her. The shock passes.

"Ah. Him." She rolls her eyes, puffing her cheeks as she does. A disgusted grimace mars her angelic expression.

"He's into you." Who isn't?

"I can tell. Not my type." She waves dismissively, having no need for your words. "I can," she pauses over her words, "take care of myself."

A creeping heat climbs your spine. "Really?" Your question sounds more curious than teasing, though your tone carries more than a hint of amusement.

Her slender shoulders shrug ever so casually. "Of course I can. Everyone needs a little," she purrs the next word, "dissipation."

It is the wording more than anything that draws a pensive mood. Yujin said it casually enough, with her fingers absentmindedly pressing up and down her exposed leg, almost as if the mere thought of it was enough to excite her. Her gaze glazes over at some unseen memory, and she gives a knowing smirk before her thoughts snap back to the real world.

"Yujin, I—"

She cuts you off, "there are so many, too many, horny boys in the world, but so few are dependable." The hand tracing her thigh edges just a centimetre further upwards, folding the pleat under the touch. "it was nice to have you here for dinner, but I have something I need to do."

"Are you expecting me to go so that you can...?"

The smile spreads from ear-to-ear across her face. "I'm not saying anything. But you know where the door is." She rises from her seat, a perfectly poised princess, and moves gracefully towards the door. Her body swaying under her baggy shirt and flowing skirt.

She doesn't give you time for a reply.

You're left alone with only the dying embers of her expensive perfume.

***

Class finished early and you're waiting. As you always did when you finished before the girls.

However, this time is different. You haven’t seen Yujin all day and aren’t sure how to act when you do. Not after what you saw yesterday. You lean back against your locker, streams of people passing by. Most ignore you, or the few that acknowledge you pay only a glance or two before continuing.

"Hey, Gaeul," you call to the one girl you recognise passing by, "have you seen Yujin?"

"Bro, she left already." You don't know when she started calling you bro. Maybe she always had. Could be part of her friendly nature. Gaeul is about as easygoing as they come.

"Is something wrong with her?"

"Nah." A gap appears in the crowd and you move to join her, heading out of the building. "You know how it is. If she wants to leave five minutes early, no one will stop her."

Another student cuts between the two of you, forcing you towards another group that blocks your way. You spin away to avoid them, manoeuvring through like a speeding car on the highway, catching up with the on-rushing Gaeul.

"And she didn't say anything?" you ask when finally back by her side. Gaeul's looking at her phone—probably reading a text from her husband-to-be.

"Hm?" Gaeul throws a glance out of courtesy. "No." she mutters before replying to the text.

"Nothing?"

Gaeul opens the door to the outside and you follow her through. She's striding like a girl with places to be, so you have to half-jog to get back by her side.

"Oh! Yujin did tell me to tell you something, actually. She said, tell him to act like a criminal. Whatever that means."

Act like a criminal.

"Thanks Gaeul," you speak quickly, diverting towards your car.

"Bro! What does it mean?" Gaeul calls after you but you don't wait around to answer.

***

The maid is there to greet you when you knock on the door of Yujin's house. Apparently, Yujin is waiting for you upstairs, and after letting you into the Ahn house for the second time in as many days, the maid disappears again into the background, leaving you to explore.

You see, yesterday ended almost unceremoniously. You stayed for dinner, you ate, talked, laughed. And then you left.

Except, it wasn't actually that simple. After Yujin left the room, you held around for a minute, finishing your drink. The ice-cold one in the fancy tumbler. Taking in the room around, as for all the time you had spent in there, you were more focused on Yujin than the exquisite decor. You admired it for all it's worth and savoured your drink until you decided that you shouldn't overstay your welcome.

It should have been simple. Walk to your car, get in, and go home.

Until you walked down the corridor and found a door ajar with the smallest of gaps. You leant gently against the frame, peering in just enough to give you a view of the bed.

On the bed was the girl you expected to find. On the bed was Ahn Yujin.

The curtains were closed, but enough sunlight managed to peak through. Light bounced off the soft skin. Each breath sent her chest swelling. You followed every rise and fall with hungry eyes.

With the afternoon sun kissing her flesh, highlighting the curve of her shoulder and collarbone, she looked even more heavenly. She wore her short hair wild, swept back and almost messy. And that's all she wore.

Her clothes discarded. A crumpled heap just beside the bed. And yet, there was a strangely intimate beauty in their chaos. As if she had just stumbled out of them in some urgent and carnal heat.

Her entire being had been shaped into perfection, carved from a block of ivory, her delicate fingers, smooth legs, slender shoulders and bare chest roseand fell with the soft inhales of breathing.

It was not the Yujin you knew; there was no hint of her elegance and poise. Here only lustful indulgence. A reckless hedonism that wanted no secrets to be kept or questions to be unanswered. Her body lay free of the bounds that normalcy imposes, inviting you to admire what she kept concealed, every precious curve and secret corner of her immaculate skin, every beautiful mark and blemish, that, in itself, was a testament to the humanity that lies just under the surface of such sublime beauty.

There was no doll, nor porcelain queen. No statue of stone or plaster. Instead, she was living, breathing, moving and feeling. Each touch was electricity. And her eyes said it all.

There was woman—in its rawest form.

And you had stood. You had stared. For as long as you dared. Until you tried to tear yourself away. You could not deny your perverted mind that moment of indulgence. And indulge you did, right up until the fear of being caught overcame you.

It should have been so simple. Walk to your car, get in, and go home.

For the last twenty-four hours, the image plagued your mind. You were consumed with her. With the idea of her. Of what she had done, of what could have been had you dared enter her room. And the guilt alongside it.

And now you're here, a day later, walking back to the scene of your crime. The door is ajar again, a few feet ahead. You push lightly, gently, inch by inch. Your breath held and the anticipation thick, clouding your mind and filling every thought, not of anything other than what you might see behind that door.

And then it comes into view. The bed and the disappointment.

A bed perfectly made, and decidedly empty.

You realise your folly—thinking, hoping, expecting the same sordid sight as before.

"I was wondering if you'd turn up." Her voice comes from behind you and her tone is low, hushed, and seductive. Every word tingles down the spine. Her fragrance arrives a beat ahead of the girl herself. "Did you get my message?"

"Yeah, about being a criminal," you answer as innocently as you can manage, still recovering from the shock.

"Exactly. As criminals, we take, without question, what we desire," Yujin whispers the last few words in your ear, a heavy, breathy tone that takes any resolve left in you and melts it before it's even fully formed. Her scent surrounds you. It overwhelms you.

"Yesterday, what you saw me do," she begins, her fingers reaching for your arm, gliding gently and purposefully, drawing slow patterns with a single nail, "you had the decency to resist temptation, but I don't want that." Her fingers grip your forearm tightly.

"It doesn't matter why you resisted. All I know is that you watched me... touch myself, pleasure myself. Do I turn you on?" She knew damn well the effect she was having.

You answer her question with another question. "Yujin, what are you playing at?"

"You're smart. Don't you know how this goes?" She steps, smooths around the shape of you, and into your field of vision. "Don’t you know why you’re here?" 

She raises her arms slowly, making a show of her body. With all the possible casualness, she smooths her hands up her sides, slowly, passing her stomach and onto her chest, and gently caressing. A shirt clings to her slim frame. The thin fabric is practically see-through, clinging to every delicious curve. The bottom few inches lifting, revealing flesh and the lines of lace trim on her matching her cream panties.

"I can't fight it, Yujin." Your hands find their way to the curves of her waist. She wriggles under the touch, happy to have the reaction she desires.

"Fight what?" She smirks, clearly amused by your confession and how easily you give in to her. Her hands roll gently across her breasts.

"The alarm in my head saying it’s a bad idea."

"Don’t fight it. Because I'm really, really hot," she whispers as pulls her top up her body. It rolls over her head and flops to the floor and you marvel, breathless and hungry, at the expanse of silky skin and feminine curves.

Her hands stroke at your crotch and she laughs softly. "Hard already?"

Her fingers curl and squeeze around the outline. She gives an approving smirk at the way it twitches under her touch, even as she mocks its hardness. "For me, huh?"

You nod, and she smirks. You move your hands up her body, but just as you begin; she twists free and walks towards her bed.

"Go, stand." Yujin points at the centre of her bedroom, towards the foot of her bed.

The carpet beneath you is soft, and you're barefoot. Walking. Watching. Eyes never leaving Yujin. Her bare thighs, defined, slender and soft. The curves, so gentle, and her accentuated hips. Her round, shapely behind, cradled so perfectly in tight-fitting panties. You have barely reached your position when she looks at you from over her shoulder and wiggles her panties slowly down her legs and leaves them on the floor.

She's crawling on the bed. You can't move—you barely manage to breathe. Each breath burns your throat. You're motionless, speechless, hypnotised in awe at Yujin. As requested (perhaps ordered) you remain. Watching from afar. Yujin seats herself on her bed with delicacy, her knees pressed together.

"I have to be honest with you," she confesses. "I'm not going to fuck you. But you can help me. If you're willing, that is."

"Anything" is your reflex response. You're powerless. She has you in the palm of her hand, and the growing ache in your groin, which was eager to be free of the confines of your pants, only affirms your thoughts.

"Are you sure?" Her head tilted to the side, teasing you with naivete. Yujin laid a single, slender finger on her lip and pulled it down suggestively. "If you come over here," Yujin insisted, her free hand parting her knees and patting the bed between her thighs, "then we could help each other."

There's a flurry of activity. You pull off your shirt and leave your trousers behind. Now you're kneeling across from her.

"Watch me. Just watch." Her voice is softer now, sultry, as her fingers ghost down the column of her neck, along her collarbones and then tracing the curve of her breasts, with the lightest grazes against her nipples. Her eyes fall closed as she carries on tracing feathery touches on her torso.

To be here now is all you could have wanted, really. If anything is happening beyond the sound of her shortening breaths and soft hums and her hand snaking between her legs, it's beyond your awareness. Yujin is shifting in front of you, wiggling and squirming; biting at her lip until it reddens and fills; gasping at the gentle caress of fingertips sliding slick against the smooth lips between her legs.

"No touching, just look." As if to drive the point home, her gaze holds on you for a moment, her lips curling into the sweetest smile. As a reward for your patience, her eyes grow warm and welcoming. Her legs spread wider, and Yujin hums. Her touch builds slowly, making small circles. There's no sign of urgency to her actions, none of the frustration that Wonyoung showed when waiting for her release. But Yujin isn't simply touching; it isn't about release. She's revelling.

Her breasts move with her heavy breaths. Her body trembles; her legs shake. She leans back slowly, taking support from her elbow, exposing herself wholly to you, with her head pressing back into her pillow, her hair sprawling in a mess and her pink lips slightly agape as her mouth shapes sounds that die as quickly as they're born.

"Yujin, I..." You lean forward onto your knees, placing an arm by her hip and another by her shoulder. You're hovering over her. Watching the display before you in stunned silence.

She grabs a handful of her tit, squeezing and moaning. "Keep talking," she breathes, her lips still quivering.

"I want you so bad."

She presses harder and slides her finger a little lower, dipping inside her cunt. Her other hand goes to your arm, then strokes over your bicep up to your neck. "You can do better than that." She whispers, wrapping her hand around your nape.

"How could I not want you?" Your knees are between her legs, you lower yourself closer without breaking her rule. You do not touch. "Not when you smell so enticing. Or sound so delightful. Or look so stunning."

Her mouth opens, panting breaths and half-uttered sighs fill the air. "And?"

Strands of hair fall over her face, you bring a hand up and hover it near to them, seeking her approval. Her eyes dart to your hand and consider it for a moment before giving the gentlest of approving nods. Your hand brushes the strands to the side. Her cheeks are bright and rosy, her skin damp, moist with perspiration, though still like silk to touch, you discover as you run a finger down her cheek.

"And when you look at me... with that smile. You have such a cute smile, like right now, that innocent—"

"Shut the fuck up and kiss me."

You oblige. Yujin rises to meet you. And you take her in a hungry kiss. She falls back against her pillow. You slide a hand around her thigh, gently holding it against yours. The sensation of skin on skin is electric.

"M-more. Give me more." Yujin demands, and you give her thigh a squeeze in agreement. Your hand moves to her ass, giving the swell an approving touch, caressing the skin, and kneading ever so slowly.

You watch her, in the dimness between kisses, studying her delicate expressions and tiny reactions and all the while you enjoy the feeling of her pliant flesh beneath you.

This goes on and on. The kissing. The touching. The moments of separation. When Yujin pauses and lays her head down, catching her breath. A few heartbeats pass, she opens her eyes and watches you. Languidly, she smiles and beckons you to lean closer, to hold her again and taste her sweet lips once more.

The dim, orange sunlight of early evening has long since faded. A soft, blue light envelops her bedroom. As the minutes passed and the two of you enjoyed each other's touch, Yujin never stopped. Never stopped her hand buried between her thighs. And this time your kiss broke by the jolt of her head, thrown back into the pillow. Her neck is at full stretch and her lips agape.

No moans come from her mouth. Instead, her breath hitches and holds. She freezes like this, under the moonlight piercing between the curtains. Reflecting from her skin. An image of pure beauty. Unadulterated pleasure.

Her eyes remain shut, but a beaming smile grows.

Finally, she sighs deeply and lets out her last shuddering, shaky breaths. She rises again and searches your eyes with her half-open ones and smiles once more.

"That was perfect," she murmurs, satisfied, as she lolls back into the pillow and rubs her hand—the hand covered with her cum—over her heaving, sweat-slicked chest.

You can only admire as she rubs her hand over her tits, smearing them with a mixture of cum and sweat. And when she's done, she lets her hand fall beside her head, the other resting on your shoulder.

"What are you thinking?" Her question came slowly, her speech still languid.

"How amazing you are."

Yujin smirks before stretching, arching her back from the bed, thrusting her tits at you. "You've probably thought that a lot." She's hot, and she knows it. "Anything else? With me here like this?"

"Your body is better than I imagined. Perfect."

Yujin brings a hand up to cup her tit, as if offering them up for you. "Glad you think so." The next word was a demand, "Taste."

Her chin tilts down and her gaze lifts. Her eyes watch curiously as your head dives to her chest. The most overpowering thing is the smell. The combination of her rich perfume and the scent of sex.

"That's it. Let me guide you." Yujin reaches round, holds the back of your head, and pushes your lips on her nipple. She giggles as you suck greedily, nibbling at her and lavishing her flesh in sloppy adoration. Yujin's skin glows a hue you'd never seen before. And tastes a taste so sickly sweet that you swear is so addicting that as a second becomes a minute, your tongue would never tire.

"Good." Her voice is soft and doting, but her breath catches for a brief instant as you roll your tongue over the swollen peak, drawing a tighter grip on your head. Her hands bury into your hair, her nails against the scalp. She pulls at you, guiding your tongue across her chest.

Yujin whines. And for all the sounds that you've heard today, there is none so sweet, nor one that cuts so deep as when she pulls you away. "God, I feel so sexy now."

Yujin lets her leg rub up to yours. Gyrating gently and grinding your thigh with hers, she works herself closer. Then her legs curl, capturing you and holding you. Yujin raises up so her face is millimetres away, whispering into your lips, "You don't even know what a turn-on you are right now."

She guides your hand with her own, down between her thighs. And she rubs your fingers up against her slippery opening. "Feel that? That's for you, and I can't wait any longer." Her eyes fall closed and her forehead rests against yours.

"I want to fuck you, Yujin."

"We aren't going to fuck." She punctuates each word separately but speaks without anger. Her tone is honey. It's dripping with lust despite the coldness of the words. "But I am going to let you cum now."

Her hand leaves your own, leaving your fingers pressed against her cunt. Both her hands now. Both against your body, rubbing at your chest and working their way down. Yujin's got a devilish, vapid expression. An insufferable confidence.

"And maybe this is selfish, but," Yujin grins wickedly as her hand takes a fistful of cock. "I'm also going to get off to watching you blow a load."

Her thumb, smeared in her arousal, rolls and drags. It's a wicked gesture that plays you like a marionette. Yujin draws her wet thumb up your length. The pressure and tension are enough to bring your breath hitching.

"It'll be huge." You lean into the feeling and whisper hotly. The heat building between the two of you is dizzying. She wraps her fingers around the base of your cock and squeezes firmly, jerking her hand up to the head.

"Good." The word escapes her parted lips as she takes the first full stroke. And then she doesn't stop. Her fingers tighten and the movement is repeated, finding a quick rhythm that you follow along to.

"Touch me," Yujin orders again. She looks down between your bodies, the tangle of arms, where she strokes your cock rhythmically. Using her other hand on your wrist to push you into her. Two fingers. That's what you give, gently stroking down along her cunt. Two fingers inside and curling up slowly inside her. Your hand pressing against her cunt, palm rocking against her clit. "Keep doing that."

You follow along. Obeying her directions and fulfilling her commands, making short little motions between her legs. You've watched her cum once and know exactly how to bring her there again. You push further, probing deeper, massaging the hot slickness. And you must be doing it right. Her grip on your wrist slackens and her body collapses back into the silk.

Finally, she fully focuses on you. Her hands work your cock. Up, down. Smooth, measured, fluid strokes. Unsurprisingly, she's perfect, each action purposeful, coordinated, and calculated. You know from the tension already winding, growing tighter and tighter, that it's a race you're destined to lose.

Yujin sighs heavily. Her lips remain open but her eyes grow serious. Head propped by the pillow, she's watching her handiwork. Watching the first drops of cum leak out and she palms them, taking them into her grip, making it messier as she continues to pump. Her eyes lift to watch your face as it distorts, and as you let out a groan.

"Are you close yet?" Her hand tightens. Faster. Rougher. Her fingers graze your sensitive cock, your body convulses and the involuntary reaction is a knee-jerk buck of your hips into the warmth of her hand. And her laugh follows. Delightfully warm, innocent, genuine. It fills the room and pierces through any self-conscious embarrassment. "Guess so, huh? Come on, cum. Just for me." Her thumb drags over your cock's head.

Your hands still moving, and Yujin's body beginning to quiver. With her orgasm fast approaching, she's determined to make you finish first. Her other hand has a hold on your balls, encouraging them to let loose.

Your lungs hurt from the shallow gasps and a sick knot forms in the pit of your stomach. A tingling buzzing and a throbbing that overcomes everything, wiping the thoughts from your mind. Only her eyes. Yujin's warm, hazel, angelic eyes are what remains. They stare with determination, urging you on.

She knows. You know. You can't hold it anymore. Your body isn't yours anymore, it responds to Yujin, and when she grins, you have no power. Yujin's in control, the only words in your mind. "Cum. Cum all over."

"Ugh, fuck..." is all the warning that you can manage. Her grin widens into a malicious smile and her hand becomes a vice. You can barely breathe; a dull buzzing rings in your ears. Your vision is a blur. All-consuming pleasure blinds. You buck into her hand and feel the thick ropes of cum leave. Firing onto her toned stomach. On to her tits. Wherever her hand directs you.

"Wow, really came hard," Yujin grins teasingly at her messy hands.

Breathing is easier now, and the rush, though it fades, lingers still in every inch of you. And as feeling comes back, as your mind clears, you realise your own hand never stopped. You're still mindlessly fucking her with your fingers. Still making Yujin writhe and moan. She's so warm. Wet.

"Fu-ck. Ke-eep doing... that." Her legs pull at you, forcing your body on top of hers. You respond in your movements, curling your fingers into her and slamming them harder. Your palm hits her cunt every time with a slap.

She's got a hand on her tit, squeezing the cum-covered mounds, her hand sliding around in the sticky mess. It's spreading—the mess, all over her tits—and she's using it for pleasure. It glistens in the soft blue moonlight, catching your eyes.

"I-m..." Yujin starts, then gasping a sharp intake of breath, then more noises, stunted. This goes on until, finally, she takes one slow, heavy, deep breath, filling her chest and holding it there. Her eyes are glassy as if she's not looking through them. And she's still gripping your sensitive cock, hand covered in cum. You groan softly as her hand rubs the last few drops out.

She cums again. She tried to warn you, but this time she's nothing but moans. Erupting from her. Rough. Deep. Coming from within. She gushes. Wetness coats your fingers. Her cunt overflows and runs out onto your hand. A mess of her cum on you, a mess of your cum on her. You watch her breathing as the final few gasps leave her, slowly returning to a steady, even rhythm.

Yujin is breathless. "W-wow..."

You kiss her cheek gently. Your body finds its place beside hers. "Fuck me, Yujin," you exhale.

Yujin's breathing is slow and even, a smile beaming, radiating that warm glow that is her. She takes a deep breath in, then lets it out again.

"No." There's not an iota of sympathy.

You let out an audible sigh, but Yujin holds her finger up. "No sex tonight," she corrects herself, before pushing on your shoulder, rolling you over until she sits atop you.

Her lithe, cum-covered body presses down upon you. Her hips against your spent dick. She leans back, straightening her torso. She barely weighs a thing. Her body is as light as a feather. Yujin gives an innocent look, smiling but avoiding the eyes, but after a moment her smile turns coy, even teasing. She runs a hand over her body and pulls it away, strings of sticky cum stretching from her fingers to her stomach.

"I need a shower." She runs her eyes over your body. "We need a shower."

"Or we can continue..." you speak as you run a hand up her thigh.

Yujin moans in response, and she closes her eyes at the contact. A tremble wracks her for a moment, until her eyes snap open. "No." She pulls back and pushes off you. "Come. Let's shower."

She's standing beside the bed, and you admire her. "You look gorgeous." The words float in the air, and Yujin lets a soft, barely visible blush form. She takes it well; you would've thought she'd dismiss the words, but she smiles warmly.

"Come on." Her finger beckons you.

You follow and don't take your eyes off her. And why should you? Her body is so enchanting, swaying her hips from side to side in her lustful saunter. Her ass and shoulders roll in sync perfectly.

***

Hot water and steam. One runs down your body and the other fills the air. Not thick enough to block your sight but still veiling everything in a white, blurry mist, just enough to muffle the sound, enough to add something in the background.

"Mm..." Yujin murmurs as you rub her back. A luxurious bar of soap. You lather your hands and work it across her body. Underneath her arms. You guide your slippery hands to her sides, lifting and moving with them as they run along her stomach. You tickle gently above her hip bones, smiling at her small reaction—how her hips roll away instinctively.

"So, what happens now?" you ask. Yujin had been completely quiet during the shower. But you can't help but think that you need to address what just happened, what could happen.

"Well, I could bend over right now, right?" Her voice is bubbly, still in a post-orgasmic high.

You chuckle. "But you won't."

"But I won't," Yujin confirms. "I haven't decided yet."

"That's ominous."

Yujin closes her eyes. "Not like I'm the only girl who you're fooling around with."

"So you want it to be exclusive?"

"No." Yujin takes the soap and turns to face you, rubbing it over your chest.

"You're a hot guy, with a nice cock," Yujin's eyelids fall half-closed and her lips spread to show her tongue running over the corner of her mouth, and with the faintest shrug, and adds: "We both know I could have my way with you anytime I want."

Yujin moves past you towards the jet of running hot water. She bows her head under it and lets it rinse off the foam. The suds flow down her body. The streams turn to rivers. Bouncing, trickling, coursing between her supple breasts, down her narrow waist, over her toned stomach, then along her long legs. She takes a second longer than necessary, basking in the spray and enjoying the sensation, and the visual she knows she creates for you.

She reaches out and pulls you under, body against body. She brings her mouth to your ear. "But no one can find out. That would cause you a lot of problems." Her hands grip you tightly as if to emphasise the seriousness. And while her tone remains jovial, there is an underlying sternness.

"What do you mean? What would happen?"

"The position my dad is in, we can't afford to have this come out. He would have you out of the school and out of my life in an instant." Her voice lowers, almost a growl, but there's amusement in it. Her smile widens as she looks you in the eye. "But that won't happen, will it? We'll make sure of that."

"No, won't happen."

"And while we're on the topic..." Yujin grabs at your crotch, stunning you. "If you're gonna keep fucking Wonyoung, you might want to do a better job of hiding that. It'll end the same way."

"Y-you don't mind if I fuck Wonyoung?"

"Please, I encourage it." Yujin wraps a hand around the nape of your neck and pulls you in closer. You move your arms to hold her back. Skin on skin. Her breaths are hot, and steamy. She whispers the next few words, drawing out every syllable, each sound heavy with meaning.

"I..." You lose what words you want to say, flustered by her open, unexpected, and totally cool, reaction.

"Why would I? It's hot as fuck." Her lips brush over your cheeks, ghosting over the skin with a soft, supple touch. "And I know she won't fuck as good as I will."

NEXT PART HERE

[pin-k-ink]

ohmygodohmygod i absolutely LOVED your kuroo fic!!!

and i’ve an idea for another one if you wanna write it. how about kuroo with a really clumsy classmate of his, and they both inevitably end up in really awkward and borderline sexual situations because of it? kinda like a crack fic

convenient // kuroo tetsuro

tw ⇢ clumsy!reader, highly suggestive content, mild sexual tension, fluff, sexual jokes, kuroo is kind of a perv

wc ⇢ 5.1k

a/n: this was heavily inspired by prison school for some reason (yes i watched it 💀)

The first time it happened, it really was just an honest mistake - one that earned Kuroo Tetsuro a well-deserved slap across the face. In his defense, he had been utterly oblivious, mind preoccupied with an upcoming English exam. But that was still no excuse for his careless actions.

He was headed to the library, books and notes tucked under one arm, when a faint shuffling sound drew his gaze upwards. There you were, standing atop a narrow ladder while stretching to reach a book on the upper shelves. Your skirt rode dangerously high with the effort, teetering just shy of outright indecency.

Kuroo felt his eyes widen as he froze mid-step, suddenly hyper-aware of the sleek lines of your legs extending from the rumpled plaid hem. He knew he should look away, avert his stare like any decent guy. But something insidious seemed to glue his feet to the floor, leaving him gawking shamelessly.

That's when disaster struck - literally.

One minute you were straining on tiptoe, back arched enticingly as you strained for your target book. The next, your knee brushed the ladder rung with a faint clang of disturbance. Like a switched had been flipped, the whole structure began wavering treacherously beneath your weight.

You let out a strangled yelp of surprise, arms wheeling wildly in a frantic bid to regain your balance. But it was too late, your slight figure already pitching backwards in a clumsy free-fall towards the unforgiving floor.

Pure instinct propelled Kuroo into action at that moment. Letting his books and papers scatter, he lunged forward with the lightning reflexes of a seasoned athlete. His arms locked around your trim waist just as your feet left the ladder rungs entirely, effectively folding you in half to break your plummet.

You collapsed against his chest in a breathless heap, wavy tresses askew and skirt bundled scandalously around your hips from the abrupt tumble. Kuroo's throat went dry as he found himself confronted with an utterly unobstructed view of your lacy black panties, tight across the supple flesh of your ass and leaving precious little to the imagination.

A tremor rocked his muscles before Kuroo could fully process the provocative situation. His lips parted on a low, strangled sound - was that a whistle or a whimper? - while you stirred groggily in his arms.

That's when realization finally dawned in your wide eyes. You took one look at the flustered volleyball captain gaping down at you and the disheveled state of your uniform, and let out an earsplitting yelp of mortification.

"You...you pervert!"

The resounding crack of your palm across Kuroo's cheek rang out like a gunshot. He reeled back, stunned, as you leapt from his arms and frantically rearranged your rumpled skirt. With a last scandalized glare, you scooped up your books and scurried away down the hall, leaving a flabbergasted Kuroo cradling his stinging jaw.

As he stooped to collect his scattered belongings, the dark-haired captain could only shake his head ruefully, pointedly ignoring the snickers of passing students. He supposed he deserved that one.

Though admittedly, politely keeping his eyes averted would be a monumental challenge going forward if you insisted on being so...distracting around him.

Little did Kuroo know, that was only the beginning of many chaotic encounters with you to come.

After that mortifying library incident, Kuroo thought he would at least get a brief respite from any further awkward run-ins with you. He figured you'd be actively avoiding him out of lingering embarrassment for the foreseeable future. The captain wasn't quite sure whether to feel relieved or oddly disappointed by that prospect.

However, fate seemed to have other plans entirely when it came to tormenting Kuroo with suggestive happenstance around you. If anything, the unlucky encounters only escalated from that point onwards.

It happened again only a few days later. Kuroo was making his way to afternoon English practice after lessons when a commotion from a nearby classroom gave him pause. He distinctly heard a muffled yelp of surprise followed by a clatter like someone knocking into a desk.

Curiosity piqued, he backtracked and peered through the open door to find you in the midst of a graceless struggle. From his vantage point, it looked like you'd caught your knee on a protruding desk lip in the middle of gathering your belongings, upending everything to the floor.

"Need some help?" The words slipped out before Kuroo could reconsider.

You jolted at the sound of his voice, clearly not expecting company. Whipping around revealed your position - bent over at the waist, arms crossed over the desktop as you'd been trying in vain to catch your spilled notebooks and papers before they scattered.

Kuroo felt his throat go instantly dry at the view you presented. With your torso tilted parallel to the ground, he had an unobstructed line of sight directly down the stretched vee of your blouse to the lacy enclosure of your bra. He immediately averted his stare with a sharp inhalation, but the wiggling shift of your body as you tried to right yourself didn't do him any favors.

"O-Oh, hey Kuroo!" You squeaked out, voice pitched just a bit too high as you straightened hastily. You seemed to belatedly realize the disheveled state of your clothes and ran flustered hands over your rioting skirt. "No, I'm okay! Just a bit of a tussle with gravity, as usual."

You laughed in that slightly too high, breathless cadence that told Kuroo you were just as aware of the precarious display as he'd been. Still, he appreciated your nonchalant attempt to smooth over the awkwardness as you bent to collect the remainder of your fallen supplies.

"You sure?" He risked another glance, disappointed satisfied to find your skirt had returned to normal propriety if still slightly rumpled. "I can grab the janitor if you need any cleaning supplies or anything..."

"No, no! Really, I'm fine. But uh, thanks for the offer." You gave a tight smile, clutching your armful of books to your chest.

Kuroo nodded slowly, unable to resist one last sweeping look over your flustered appearance - wild hair askew, cheeks dusted with pink, chest still rising and falling a bit rapidly. Yep...you were still cute as hell, even after catching him gawking like a perverted creep twice now.

"Don't mention it. Just figured I'd lend a hand after providing such quality-eye entertainment lately." He tossed you a wink, mouth kicking up at the corner as your blush deepened.

"You're terrible," you groaned, rolling your eyes dramatically. But he could've sworn your lips twitched towards a smile as you spun on your heel and strutted from the classroom with as much dignity as you could muster.

Kuroo watched your departing form fondly, scratching at the nape of his neck. "That's me," he agreed under his breath, unable to resist one last admiring glance towards the sway of your hips.

Yes, he would definitely have to be more careful about where he let his gaze stray going forward. Especially if you insisted on continually providing such tantalizing...viewing opportunities for him.

The empty classroom should have been a safe haven for you to gather your thoughts during your free period. With no other students around, you had seized the opportunity to get some fresh air by cracking open one of the large windows overlooking the courtyard.

In retrospect, leaning your entire upper body out of that window may have been ill-advised.

You had been so absorbed in the tranquil view outside, relishing the crisp breeze skating across your face, that you failed to notice your skirt catching and riding up precariously on the window's edge behind you. By the time you registered the precarious situation, it was already too late.

"What the...?" You frowned, twisting your torso in an attempt to dislodge yourself.

But the more you struggled, the more hopelessly ensnared you became - skirt now thoroughly rumpled and bunched around your hips, leaving your backside shockingly exposed to the empty classroom behind you in a way that would make any vice principal blush.

You squeezed your eyes shut, cheeks burning as you tried in vain to somehow wrangle the stubborn fabric free without outright removing the entire garment and mooning the entire courtyard below. If only you had a personal contortionist on hand...

The telltale creak of the door opening behind you nearly made you swallow your tongue.

"Hey, have you seen my--" The deep timbre of Kuroo's unmistakable voice faltered. "Oh. Uh...need a hand?"

You could practically hear the poorly suppressed grin in his tone without even turning around - not that you could move much in your current trapped position. Your mortification mounted by the second, shoulders ticking up towards your burning ears.

"Don't just stand there!" You hissed through gritted teeth, face on proverbial fire. "Get over here and help me already!"

"I don't know, you seem to have a pretty good view as is," Kuroo drawled, bitter amusement coating every syllaible. But you heard his footsteps start to cross the classroom regardless.

"Don't you dare look, or so help me--"

"I'm just here to provide whatever assistance a gentleman can for a stuck damsel," he interjected solemnly, though you could still hear the laughter staining his tone.

Another teasing brush of warm fingertips skating up your exposed thigh made you suck in a sharp breath, muscles taut. But then Kuroo was deftly tugging at the tangled fabric, trying to work it free from where it had fully wedged against the unforgiving metal window frame.

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter as he crouched behind you, hot puffs of his steady breathing ghosting along the back of your bare thighs. The tips of his nails occasionally scraped lightly against your sensitized skin whenever he shifted his grip for better leverage.

Each inadvertent caress sent tingles of heat blossoming across your body, completely at odds with the unrelenting chill of the open window pressed against your ribs. You worried your lower lip between your teeth, trying to stomp down the unwelcome flutters plaguing your gut and attribute them solely to your mortifying predicament.

"Almost there," Kuroo grunted, leaning in so close you could smell the crisp, clean scent of his laundry detergent and body wash. "Just need to...tug this bit..."

"Wait, no--!"

Your panicked warning was too late. With a sharp yank on the stubborn fabric, both of you inadvertently went tumbling backwards in a graceless heap - your skirt ripping free only for the rest of you to promptly crash down squarely on Kuroo's unsuspecting face.

You couldn't quite muffle the startled yelp that rattled up from your chest as you landed in a sprawl of flailing limbs. One blink and suddenly you found yourself pitched backwards, legs splayed shamelessly as your butt settled...right on top of Kuroo's stunned features, mashing against his mouth and nose.

The smothered grunt of surprise punched out from under you was enough to send you flailing away with a choked shriek of mortification, scuttling across the floor like a deranged crab. Your face felt like it was legitimately searing clean off your skull, a condition likely mirrored by Kuroo's own rapidly purpling complexion.

"Ohmygod, Kuroo!" You wheezed out, one trembling hand lifting reflexively to cover your gaping mouth as he finally levered upright. "I am so, sosorry! Are you okay? Please, please tell me you can breathe!"

The captain dragged in a harsh gulp of air, chest heaving, before slowly lifting his burning gaze to your stricken one. Despite the deep flush marring his features, Kuroo's eyes glittered suspiciously.

"Well..." he rasped out with a lopsided, infinitely amused smirk. "Can't say I was expecting that kind of face-sitting from you today, but I can't really complain about the view..."

You released a mortified squawk, yanking the hem of your skirt down with furious tugs. There was no way this wasn't some fresh new hell custom designed by the vindictive heavens just to torment your battered pride around Kuroo Tetsuro.

Honestly, at this rate, you wouldn't be surprised if the boy ended up permanently bowlegged with how many compromising visuals you'd inadvertently provided him.

Kuroo sucked in a deep, steadying breath as he watched you scurry from the classroom, skirt mercifully back in place and face still blazing crimson. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, desperately trying to un-see the compromising visuals now seared into his brain.

There was simply no unseeing the full, unobstructed view he'd gotten of your lace-edged panties and plump backside when you'd so brazenly...well, sat on his face in your wild scramble. His cheeks flushed anew just recalling it - the softness and warmth pressed against his lips, the sweet floral scent overwhelming his senses.

He shouldn't be thinking those kinds of things about you. Kuroo was keenly aware you were just his animated, disaster-prone classmate who always seemed to catch the brunt of humiliating mishaps whenever he was around. Lingering too long on the intimate peeks he'd been granted felt like a violation of the unspoken boundaries between you two.

And yet...

Kuroo found his tongue instinctively swiping across his lower lip, unconsciously chasing some lingering remnant of your taste and scent. The memory of having your feminine curves crushed against his face, even if unintentionally, made his throat run dry with unexpected yearning. He couldn't deny the spark of illicit heat that quickly blazed low in his belly.

With a groan, Kuroo scrubbed both hands through his perpetually tousled hair, tugging at the roots in mild self-admonishment. These were dangerous thoughts to entertain, no matter how attractive and alluring you were as a person. Especially given how mortified you always seemed by the accidental incidents that kept transpiring.

You clearly weren't trying to tease or torment him on purpose. If anything, you seemed just as eager to flee from the awkward tension as he was to diffuse it with irreverent jokes or nonchalant shrugs. No, the burden was his alone to bear - this one-sided battle to wrangle his steadily growing interest every time your bodies collided in such intimate, pulse-spiking ways.

Decision made, Kuroo rose to his feet with a grunt, gathering his scattered belongings. Blowing out a harsh breath, he willed away the lingering flashes of tempting visuals and straightened his spine. Yes, from now on he would simply have to be more vigilant about avoiding you as much as possible. The less he let himself get pulled into these compromising, hormone-addling situations, the better his self-control would remain intact.

It was a sound strategy, he decided with a decisive nod. One that would hopefully spare you both from any further prolonged torment or humiliation down the line.

At least, that was the theory. But as Kuroo quickly learned over the next few days and encounters, the universe seemed to have vastly different plans in regard to continually tormenting him...and you.

It happened during one of their last shared classes of the week - a study hall period Kuroo typically used for reviewing game recordings or getting a jumpstart on his homework. He had just opened up his laptop in the back corner of the room to cue up the latest match footage when an odd scuffling noise drew his attention.

Craning his neck towards the broad windows lining the far wall revealed you standing precariously on your tiptoes atop a wobbly chair, arms stretched high overhead as you attempted to tug open the painted seam where the glass panes met. Kuroo frowned as he watched your feet slip and clothes rustle with the effort. Just what were you doing?

Another loud thud followed by a growl of frustration was all the prompting he needed. With a quiet sigh, Kuroo pushed back from his seat and began weaving between the desks, hands tucked casually into his pockets. Might as well get this over with before your usual antics ended in another cringe-worthy incident for them both...

"Need a hand down there, short stuff?" He called out in a low, lazy drawl as he approached.

You startled at the unexpected voice, petite form going rigid against the window. Kuroo watched your shoulders lift in a sharp inhalation before you slowly risked peering over one toned shoulder, likely looking for the source of the amused rumble.

"Kuroo?" You squeaked out warily, like just speaking his name might somehow summon a fresh round of mortifying events. "What are you doing over here?"

"Probably the same thing you are," he replied with a one-shouldered shrug, gesturing up at the window with his chin. "Except, you know, without the hazardous chair-scaling routine. Don't you think it'd be easier if you just asked for help rather than risking life and limb like that?"

If looks could incinerate, he surely would have combusted on the spot from the narrow-eyed glare you shot his way. But after a long, weighted pause, you finally seemed to relent with a quiet huff.

"Fine, but you'd better not just be offering as some lame excuse to look up my skirt again."

The blunt dig might have landed more soundly if your cheeks weren't already pinkening, giving away your embarrassment. Kuroo simply arched one thick brow, catching his lower lip between his teeth to tamp down the reflexive grin trying to emerge.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Kuroo replied easily, holding up both hands in mock surrender. "I'm an innocent bystander here, just trying to lend my services to a damsel flirting with danger."

You leveled him with one final skeptical look before huffing out a reluctant, "Fine. But make it quick before I end up with a concussion or something."

Turning away, you resumed straining on tiptoe, arms outstretched overhead as you blindly grappled for some elusive purchase. Kuroo's gaze was immediately drawn to the wanton stretching pulling your blouse taut against the feminine swell of your chest, outlining your figure in a way that made his mouth go dry.

Clearing his throat roughly, he quickly closed the remaining distance between you and maneuvered himself up onto the chair behind you. His larger frame automatically shielded your bent posture as he reached up past your extended arms to easily unlatch the window's stubborn latch.

The rush of cool evening air that filtered in carried the scent of freshly mown grass and distant woodsmoke, ruffling the loose strands framing your face. You let out a breathless little giggle, grinning over your shoulder up at Kuroo with unguarded delight crinkling your features.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" You teased lightly. "I knew your freakish height would come in handy someday."

Kuroo felt his lips twitch towards a matching smile despite himself. There was just something wildly endearing about the way your nose scrunched when you laughed like that, uninhibited and suffused with mirth. He suddenly found himself in the odd position of fighting off a powerful wave of affection swelling in his chest.

Which is precisely when you chose to twist around fully on the chair, effectively trapping Kuroo between your parted thighs with nowhere to go as you beamed up at him. His breath stuttered in his throat, smile slipping as his abdomen lined up dangerously close to your lower body's soft warmth.

"Thanks for always being around to help me out, by the way," you continued blithely, seemingly unaware of the sudden charged tension. "I really would be a walking hazard without you."

Your words trailed off into another peal of laughter, palms sliding smoothly up Kuroo's chest until they bracketed his shoulders. He could feel the delicate pressure of your fingertips like searing brands through the thin material of his shirt as your gazes locked mere inches apart.

Inside his head, Kuroo's thoughts had devolved into a deafening roar of white noise, every higher brain function shorting out at the proximity of your body heat and sweet, floral scent. All he could focus on was the painted bow of your parted lips, the inviting dip of your collarbones on display beneath your rumpled shirt collar. The burning urge to tilt his head down and taste your smile, to growl and tug you flush against his body, made his fingers twitch convulsively at his sides.

Don't...don't do something stupid and reckless that you'll regret, his voice of reason feebly protested even as your hands slid upwards to cup his jaw with unexpected tenderness. You were so close now that your noses brushed, breath mingling in a humid cloud between your suspended states. Kuroo's heart felt lodged in his throat, pounding staccato against his ribs.

Your thumbs drifted in unconscious, idle strokes along the sharp line of his cheekbones, mesmerizing him further second by second. Instinctively, he bent towards your addictive pull before managing to firmly re-root himself with the last scraps of logic screaming at him to stop.

"That's enough...personal space for today, yeah?" He somehow wrangled enough control to whisper out, the words emerging gritty and strained but underscored with determination. "Why don't we, uh, get you down from there before round two starts sounding fun?"

You blinked rapidly at that, almost as though snapping back to yourself. For a heartbeat, Kuroo could've sworn he glimpsed something like disappointment flickering in your eyes' depths. But then you were nodding brusquely, pulling your hands away to twist back towards the now open window.

The cold rush of oxygen hitting his lungs made Kuroo almost dizzy with a sense of vertigo, like he'd been holding his breath for an eternity underwater. What the hell had just happened? And more alarmingly...why was a part of him wishing it hadn't stopped?

He shook his head to clear the loaded thoughts before resignedly offering you his hands, acting as a brace while you stepped down from the chair. Your fingers curled around his in a warm, tingling grip as you maneuvered yourself to the floor, back deliberately angled away from Kuroo to avert any further...viewing opportunities.

The moment your feet touched down, the odd tension frayed, allowing you both to sink back into familiar patterns and put some merciful distance between your bodies once more.

"Thanks again, Kuroo," you said with a demure smile over one shoulder, brushing past him towards the exit. "See you around sometime soon, I'm sure."

The parting words carried a strange, wistful lilt, warranting another glance from Kuroo's hooded gaze. You didn't linger, simply ambling away from the classroom as effortlessly as you'd arrived, leaving a bewildered captain in your wake.

Kuroo glowered at your retreating back even as something sharp and insistent tugged in his chest at the sight. Whatever this maddening back-and-forth dynamic was between you two, it was rapidly spiraling into something wild and untamed, something that was getting harder and harder to ignore or dismiss...

A growl of mingled frustration rumbled up from the back of his throat before he could stifle it. So much for avoiding temptation and keeping his resolve intact around you. Every time he tried to disengage, the universe seemed to drag you both screaming right back into each other's gravitic pull once more.

Movements taut with consternation, Kuroo sank back into his abandoned desk chair and scrubbed both hands along his face. He couldn't keep doing this endless dance around you, careening between flirtatious banter and breathless disaster without snapping entirely. Something had to give soon before one of you combusted outright.

His palms dug into his eye sockets as a growl rumbled up from somewhere deep in his gut. Yeah...no one ever said being a horny teenage disaster was easy, did they?

The next mishap occurred barely a week later, this time at one of Nekoma's volleyball practices. You had developed a habit of swinging by the gym to catch portions of the team's training sessions whenever your schedule allowed. Kuroo suspected it was equal parts keeping tabs on him and cheering on a couple of your other classmates in the club.

Whatever the reason, he certainly wasn't complaining about the prospect of you watching him glistening with sweat, muscles straining as he launched himself into blistering spikes and ferocious blocks. Even if he adamantly refused to let his gaze linger overlong on your distracting presence courtside.

On this particular evening, the squad was running spike drills, taking turns performing powerful straight-shot hits off the tossed sets. As captain, Kuroo was overseeing the rotations, calling out adjustments and keeping the tempo sharp.

You were perched on the bottom bleacher row, eyes tracking each impactful exchange while gnawing absentmindedly on your thumbnail. Kuroo couldn't resist a few sidelong admiring glances as each powerful leap and arcing jump serve pulled the fabric of his athletic shorts taut against his tensing thighs.

When his turn in the rotation came up again, he was waiting squarely in position, knees bent in preparation to launch upwards and meet the tossed ball. The second coach Naoi’s fingers left the leather, Kuroo exploded off the hardwood into his ferocious spike approach.

Except a sudden shuffling noise off to his left periphery made him falter, just a split-second of lost focus as he whipped his head towards the disturbance. Just in time to see you had risen to your feet and were now bent over at the waist, gripping the railing as you shimmied and shook your hips in some strange calisthenics-esque motion.

Kuroo choked on his own inhale as he inadvertently tracked the mesmerizing movements, torn between drinking in the wanton swish of your skirt tails and avoiding a deadly incoming projectile straight to his face. His abort in midair was clumsy, causing him to land wrong and crumple gracelessly to the varnished court in an undignified sprawl.

"Oof!"

A chorus of snickers rose from his teammates as the commotion made the remaining players pause their drills. Kuroo lay there stunned for a beat, cheeks flushed, before slowly craning his neck to relocate the source of his fall.

You were still bent over the railing, fortunately oblivious to your wardrobe's indecent riding up from the hip shimmies. But you had turned towards the court fully with one hand clutched to your mouth, stifling what Kuroo belatedly recognized as peals of laughter.

"Nice form there, Captain," Yaku called out with a barking laugh.

Kuroo shot the smirking player a dirty look as he levered himself upright, grimacing at the dull throb in his elbow and side from the impromptu meeting with the floor. When he chanced another glance towards the bleachers, you seemed to have gotten your giggling under control but your eyes were still alight with barely restrained mirth.

"Did you just...belly flop during a drill?" You managed to ask between lingering huffs of hilarity.

"I got distracted," Kuroo grumbled, swiping his wrist across his sweaty brow as he straightened to his full height.

Your giggles ramped back up, louder and utterly uninhibited by the audience of players now freely gawking between you two. Kuroo felt a muscle in his jaw tick with repressed...something. Embarrassment, arousal, or some heady combination thereof.

On impulse, he started stalking towards where you were doubled over the railing, each thump of his shoes against the glossy court unnaturally loud. You glanced up just as his shadow fell over you, giggles sputtering off into silence as you registered the abrupt proximity.

Kuroo halted a scant few inches away, towering over you with his lips pressed into a tight line and hair hanging shaggily in his face. Your own pupils blew wider in response to his sudden looming, cheeks flushed and lips still parted mid-laughter.

Without giving his reckless impulse another second to dissipate, Kuroo bent abruptly at the waist, eliminating the final bare slivers of distance between you. His mouth slanted over yours in a heated, insistent press before you could so much as draw a shocked breath.

For one wild, dizzying heartbeat, the entire world collapsed inwards to the shocking velvet glide of his lips coaxing yours into sliding open. The taste of you exploded across his senses, sweet and addictive like warm honey, making Kuroo's head spin.

Then just as abruptly as he lunged in, he broke away, straightening up with a ragged inhale as if surfacing from underwater. Your face was frozen in an expression of pure, open-mouthed shock, the most delicious shade of crimson blooming in your cheeks as you stared up at him with wide, unfocused eyes.

Kuroo licked his tingling lips, tasting the lingering tang of you there. He didn't dare inch closer and risk shattering the suspended tension. Instead, he simply held your stunned, searching gaze with heavy-lidded certainty.

The sudden spirited whooping and raucous catcalls from his oblivious teammates barely penetrated the electric charge now crackling between your locked stares. Kuroo arched one brow slowly, the ghost of a smirk curling the corners of his mouth.

"We'll call it even for now," was all he said, pitching his voice to be heard only by you.

With that parting remark, he spun on his heel and rejoined the still-chortling huddle of players like a man exiting the eye of the storm. But even with his back turned, he could sense the weight of your speechless, burning stare piercing between his shoulderblades.

A shiver traced his spine, raising the fine hairs along his nape. Oh yes, there would be more fallout and confrontation to come over that impulse. Kuroo could practically taste the promise of it lingering on his tongue.

And when the explosion inevitably came...he suddenly couldn't wait.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ when i'm alone ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @lokotrona11 ˚₊ ⊹

ft. peter pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ peter meets a bookworm who makes life in london a bit more bearable┊1.3k words (prt two coming soon)

setting: england after the golden age contains: exposition, first meetings, strangers to friends, minor blood & injury & mentions of fights

➤ author's note: the very first narnia request i received!! there will be a part two that’s further into their relationship and includes more of the request, so please look forward to that (it will be better than this one, trust me, i just thought this meeting would be cute)!

to say adjusting to life back in england was difficult would be an understatement. although it was nice to see his mother again and the familiar landscape of where he grew up, it doesn’t change the fact that it was a complete accident as a result of them exploring during a hunt and going back towards the wardrobe’s tunnel in nostalgic curiosity. all of the siblings would be lying if they said that home had the same magic spark that narnia did with the gray skies and the nauseous smell of pollution, but at least they had the wonders of modern technology here like lightbulbs rather than wax candles. it was even a shock for them to remember that they are no longer the only humans in the world, that animals didn’t talk anymore, and that mythical creatures like centaurs and griffins were only real in fiction. however, the most difficult change for peter by far was the fact that he was no longer the king of a fantastical land, instead he was now some nineteen-year-old boy who wasn’t taken seriously and was often told to go off and do literally anything else that isn’t meddling in adult affairs. it’s common knowledge that he was always very mature for his age since he’s constantly looking out for the younger ones, but it was such a drastic change for him to already be acting like he was in charge of everyone after just a few weeks in the countryside and even wondered what the eccentric professor must have taught him for him to come back acting all high and mighty.

he’s tried so hard to go back to being a normal boy, yet he struggles to hide the regality in the way he acts and the air of superiority he holds. the other former royals are used to his behavior even before being crowned, but soon he found himself isolated from others his age no matter how close they were previously and getting into physical fights with anyone crosses him. he was no longer used to holding his head low when disrespected and now that he’s had a taste for being held in high esteem, he would no longer tolerate it and was now known as a troublesome person whom most people steered clear of.

although his family was concerned for him, peter didn’t seem to have cared less about how quickly his reputation plummeted and he spent his days as a loner. he often found himself exploring the city’s largest library instead of playing sports or getting a job since no one wanted to hire a rebel, reading through overly complicated books about portals and other dimensions. he knew that science wouldn’t be able to explain the phenomenon that he experienced since it was magic, but studying up on the subject made him feel a little bit better that there were other people around the world exploring the subject.

the entire section dedicated to this field of knowledge was in a far corner quite a ways from the entrance, a dusty little space a tad bit darker than everywhere else, and never had a soul near it which made it the perfect place for him to brood and be alone for the most part. the only other person he saw there occasionally was you, someone he only saw through passing within school hallways and heard about receiving academic prizes all the time. while classes were out, he fully believed you had already read all the books in the building. you were there from the moment the sign was flipped to “open” until the moment the librarian told you it was closing time, never thoughtlessly roaming around since you always walked with purpose knowing exactly what you were looking for, and often seen carrying books that towered over your head threatening to tilt over.

despite seeing you every single day, he never really had the chance to talk to you. you seemed so… untouchable… like you didn’t have the time or place to spare for people who weren’t in your schedule. he wonders if he used to appear like that to others back in narnia when he was rarely approached by anyone who wasn’t one of his siblings, but at least he had the excuse of being a high monarch— what was yours? it was the first time he found himself curious and thinking about something else that wasn’t his former life.

turns out, peter’s chance came to him when he least expected it and when he was in his most vulnerable state: freshly bruised and cut up after a fight with a gang of middle schoolers over stepped-on toes. he’s landed himself in this situation countless of times yet still never learns his lesson to leave it alone before it escalates. fortunately, he got to witness the satisfying conclusion of the leader getting dragged away by his mother, but he was really the one with the egg on his face when he barely managed to get in a single punch while he ended up with a busted lip. to say he was pissed off was an understatement, but frankly, emotions that weren’t anger or longing didn’t come to him much anymore. he didn’t want to get a scolding from his family about he should have been more careful again so he wandered back into the library to take care of himself in his usual corner, unwittingly catching your eye on his way and leading you to him.

neither of you said anything when you walked up to him with a first-aid kit in hand as you used your eyes to ask for permission to patch him up and he simply nodded to grant it, the silence being more tense than awkward. you wrapped bandages around his aching knuckles, applied ointment to his wounds, and uttered nothing but a “hold still” when he hissed in response to the sharp pain of hydrogen peroxide on his lip. he didn’t even feel your skin against his, just feather-light touches that tickled him slightly as he intently looked at you while you were focused. he’s never seen you up close before so he took the opportunity to study your features, slowly realizing that he developed a crush on you at some point and immediately straightening his posture to act like he wasn’t staring when you glanced back at him.

“you’re… the guy who’s always reading about different dimensions, right? your name is... peter?”

“yeah… that’s me.” he's surprised that you knew anything about him at all, much less his name and the books he was reading. considering that you were always in your own little world, it meant that you paid more attention to your surroundings than he originally thought.

“have you visited any other realms lately?” your tone was serious, but the absurdity of the question made it sound like a joke.

“you wouldn’t believe me, it sounds ridiculous.”

“really? i’ve heard all kinds of tales, i doubt it would be even close to the worst one.” you weren’t sure why you were the first to start the conversation when you never cared for your peers or what they had to say before.

“well… it all started when we left for the countryside and my youngest sister wanted to play hide and seek…” he wasn’t sure why he was telling you about the wardrobe and narnia when he refused to open up about it to anyone other than his siblings, but it felt right to do it. at best, you’ll believe him and he’ll have someone to talk to. at worst, a cute girl will think that he’s crazy.

neither of you were quite sure about the reasons behind this conversion, but perhaps there didn’t need to be one as long as it felt like the right thing to do.

request [ I didn't find your requests so I'm writing to you here 😅 I wanted to ask Peter falling in love with a bookworm (they only see each other in the library in the last hallway and she's shy and all that) (in the second movie) in London, as if she were the one capable of removing his anger for a while and Peter felt calm with that little girl. (If you write smut with +18 at the end or just fluffy, whatever you choose) ]

[faebaex]

Tangled in Wonderland - Leonotis Leonurus

author note: second poll's winner! also a plant pun for the title, just because (￣▽￣) i feel like Jade would be proud. speaking of, he has a teeny tiny cameo in this fic, simply bc he just fit the situation so well. so far, its been a housewarden clean sweep on the polls, with Azul winning the Octavinelle poll! new poll is up right now, a bonus one this time! who will be the comeback king? go vote if you haven't already! enjoy~

characters: Leona Kingscholar x GN!Reader

The library was your turf.

By this point, you were on a first name basis with all of the library ghosts, and you had a fairly good working knowledge of every section of the library, with Ace and Deuce often seeking you out at your usual table to ask you if you had any idea where a certain book would be. Of course, more often than not that meant that they would then sit at your table and you wouldn’t really get any meaningful research done, not with all their squabbling and general freshman catastrophic energy. When Grim tagged along, it was even worse, but at least you could keep an eye on him and make sure he was actually doing the assignments he was supposed to.

Despite all the time you had been spending at the library, you were still no closer to figuring out how to get home. Crowley was nowhere to be found, taking avoiding you to an entirely new level. The books and reading list that Riddle had provided you, however, had been very insightful. His recommendations were much easier to read than the previous tomes you had been torturing yourself with, and you were starting to see connections between theories, it becoming easier for you to source further reading without having to consult Riddle first. So yes, the library was your turf.

The botanical garden, however, was not. And you were well aware of who it belonged to.

Leona Kingscholar was one of the students at the top of your list to avoid. And considering his personality, the feeling was likely mutual. So you made a conscious effort to avoid places where you could run into him, not wanting to tempt the already volatile nature of fate to thrust you into his trajectory. You were even doing well avoiding conflict with the Savanaclaw students, especially considering they were always looking for a fight and the school’s only magicless student was definitely high on their lists to torment. But unfortunately for you, you couldn’t always avoid some of Leona’s favourite haunts, because what Crewel wants, Crewel gets.

You grumbled to yourself as you picked through the botanical gardens, a basket on one arm and a list in the other. Crewel had kindly brought it to your attention with a lash of his pointer that good ol’ Grim had been using ingredients from the potionology inventory for his lab work and assignments instead of collecting his own before class, as student handbook guidelines demand. With Grim nowhere to be seen and you being in the wrong place at the wrong time, Crewel had handed you an extensive list of every ingredient that Grim had used since the two of you became a joint student, and ordered you to the botanical garden to retrieve every single one of them, or face the consequences. And with Crewel swinging that pointer around, you didn’t wait around to find out what those consequences would be.

Being so unfamiliar with the botanical gardens made this job harder, and the sheer size of the list had you running around in circles, picking one ingredient only to realise that you needed something similar that was back the way you had just came. It was incredibly frustrating, and you found yourself huffing under your breath as you traipsed around the botanical garden. To make matters worse, you had to keep yourself alert, lest there be a certain lion’s tail draped carelessly on the pavestone.

You were well aware that in the game, the poor main character had accidentally stepped on a certain stroppy lion’s tail, and he had retaliated by threatening to knock their teeth out. You’d rather not find yourself in the same situation. You’d briefly considered moving his tail out of the way with a stick or something, but decided that Leona was hardly worth the effort and would likely get offended at you poking at him either way, so instead you had to dutifully watch your feet as you continued on with your laborious task.

You had been hunting for ingredients for about an hour and a half by now, and clubs were starting to wrap up their activities and head back to their dorms. You, however, still had half of your list to go, so there was no such reprieve waiting for you. You wondered if you would be able to drop the basket back to the potionology lab with your half-completed list and promise Crewel that you’d finish the job tomorrow. Surely he wasn’t willing to wait around for you to find all these ingredients? If there was any professor at Night Raven College who you expected to have evening plans, it would be Crewel.

As you pondered your next course of action, you caught a flash of teal out of the corner of your eye. Walking towards you down the pathway was Jade Leech, and you fought the urge to do something stupid like show weakness by tensing or throwing yourself into the bushes. With his usual contrived smile affixed to his face, Jade eyed you in a way that really did make you feel like a shrimp, suddenly giving you a whole new understanding as to why his twin had dubbed the main character with such a pet name. Him being here was an oversight on your part, clearly you had thought that Leona was the botanical garden’s biggest threat, not even factoring in that Jade would use this place to fawn over his mushrooms. Thankfully he didn’t stop, passing you with an elegant stride that you could only appreciate, considering he had only been on legs for two years.

“Good day, prefect. Lovely weather we are having.” Jade greeted as he passed you, with you only responding with a small, tight-lipped smile back. No sooner had his footsteps faded away did the heavens decide to open up, a surprised cry erupting from your lips as you quickly found yourself becoming drenched, the sprinklers dousing the entire area and you in water. That could not have been a coincidence.

The sprinklers stopped as quickly as they had started, but by that point the damage had already been done, your clothes and hair dripping. The list in your hand was sodden, the ink running and quickly making the contents illegible. You growled in frustration, throwing the soggy list to the floor with a wet thump as you tried to squeeze out your clothes in vain. You were so busy trying to sort yourself out, to scrap back any shred of dignity you could that you almost missed the rustling of bushes next to you. Even if you had, there was no way you’d miss the soaking wet beastman emerging from the foliage, ears flat to his head and tail whipping behind him aggressively.

And he was glaring straight at you. Great.

“You got some nerve, herbivore. You got a death wish?” Leona snarled at you and you found yourself prickling up. “This wasn’t me!” You argued, gesturing to your own dripping form before glaring right back at him, “I might be magicless, but that doesn’t make me stupid! If I was going to set the sprinklers off, I’d make sure I wouldn’t get caught in it.” You huffed, once again trying to squeeze the excess water out of your clothes. Your words seemed to pique some interest in Leona, as he was suddenly all up in your space and sniffing you.

“Hm, you’re right. No magic at all, just wet herbivore.” Leona remarked, scrunching his nose up as he stepped back, as if the smell offended him. “Do you mind? You smell like wet cat.” You said flatly with an unimpressed expression, throwing your basket back over your arm with perhaps a little more force than necessary. You swear you could see an amused glint in Leona’s eye as he stooped down, picking up the soggy list that you’d thrown to the ground just moments earlier. “What’s this?” He enquired, holding the list away from him between his thumb and forefinger as if it was toxic, yet still holding it out of your reach when you tried to swipe it back.

“That is mine.” You said with exasperation, your dignity already running down the drain without Leona making you jump to get your list back, “whatever, its ruined anyway. Have it.” You huffed, resigned to having to go back to Crewel with your metaphorical tail between your legs and plead for a new list. Leona eyed you up for a moment before he stepped towards you again, tugging at the basket on your arm to get a look at the contents before dumping the ruined list into the basket.

“C’mon, prefect,” Leona droned over his shoulder as he started walking up the pathway, “I’ll get you some ingredients. First year ingredients are simple.” He scoffed as he navigated the garden like a seasoned pro, his gait lazy and leaving you no choice but to trail after him with a suspicious expression on your face.

“You’re… Helping me?” You questioned, the corner of your lips downturning warily. The Leona you knew was never helpful, only interested if he had something to gain, usually foisting off any inconveniences to Ruggie. “What’s in it for you?” You asked carefully, watching as he picked some stems from a bush and lob them into your basket, making you sigh as you attempted to tidy up his shoddy packing. Leona’s smile was all fangs as he caught your eyes before continuing along the path, “I’m always in need of another gopher. Having you owe me could come in handy, Ruggie has been nagging me lately and you could be just what I need... Plus, the quicker you’re out of the botanical garden, the more peaceful sleep I’d get without having to listen to your huffing and puffing.”

Ah.

Well, you suppose the original main character was truly onto something when they’d stayed up all night screaming outside Leona’s room in chapter three.

Leona had made short work of finding ingredients, and soon your basket was filled to the brim. “Those are all the common ingredients in first year potions. Any missing ingredients are on you.” Leona drawled as you both walked together towards the exit of the botanical garden, his hands behind his head as he yawned leisurely, “you owe me, prefect.”

“How do you even know what ingredients to look for?” You asked, your curiosity getting the best of you as you both left the garden, about to split off on your own paths as you planned to deliver the basket of ingredients to Crewel, whilst you assumed Leona would head back to his dorm. Leona simply kept walking, and you assumed he’d grown tired of you. But then he paused, looking over his shoulder at you with a smirk that you’d dare to describe as cheeky.

“Because I had to search out ingredients for Crewel in my first year, too.”

Huh. Perhaps Leona wasn’t that bad after all, you thought to yourself as you watched Leona’s retreating back, before setting off yourself to hand the ingredients in to Crewel, praying for fate to grant you some mercy for a change.

[ghostfacd]

jh86 — in your life, you’ll do things greater than, dating the boy on the hockey team.

au masterlist | hi guys! thanks for reading, make sure you look into my au masterlist for context on yn and jack’s relationship. this can totally be read without having context, but it’ll be much more enjoyable with, so make sure you check it out !! also livvy hughes is from my gabe perreault au which can be found here. this isn’t proofread yet but enjoy, muah & kisses

Jack Hughes.

Although he was known in your high school for being a handsome and incredibly athletic boy, you didn’t care much for him.

Besides, you had too many APs and Honor classes to be worrying about. Like right now; with your nose inside your AP Chemistry textbook, trying your best to not go absolutely insane. So far, it wasn’t working.

It had gotten to the point where you slammed your head against the textbook, making those around you turn to glare at the loud noise. You apologize profusely, deciding to go cry quietly in one of the study rooms the library had, not caring if you’d go home later with red eyes.

“Hey, you okay?”

A guy’s voice pulls you away from your textbook, your sniffles quickly filling the quiet room.

“This room is reserved, sorry.” You say, wiping away your tears with your eyes.

“Oh no, I know. I was just wondering if you were okay. I passed by and heard crying.”

Great. Not only did you look terrible at the moment, a cute guy just heard you crying. How embarrassing.

“It’s just chemistry,” you sigh, “I don’t know why I took it. It’s making me go insane.”

The boy laughs quietly, nodding to your words. “Yeah, I felt the same way about chemistry. Hated it.”

You noticed the equipment he had on his backpack, a long hockey stick and skates.

“You play hockey?”

“Yep. Jack Hughes, 86 on the ice.”

Your eyes widened, not expecting Jack Hughes to be right in front of you. Sure, you’ve heard about him endlessly, mostly coming from giggling girls in your grade, but you’ve never actually seen him up close.

Suddenly, Jack’s phone rang, and he picks it up with quite a bit of annoyance. “Yes. I’m at the library. The one next to the Starbucks, uh huh. Yep, I’ll be out now. Bye mom. Love you too.”

He turns it off, turning around to face you once again. “I have to get going,” he says, frowning. “But I’d be glad to help you with your AP Chemistry work. Here’s my number.”

You glance at the numbers, taking out your phone from your pocket, typing it into your contacts.

“Thanks Jack,” you say gratefully, “I thought you hated chem, though?”

“Oh I hate it.” He laughs. “But it doesn’t mean I’m bad at it. Just give me a call whenever.”

Jack Hughes walked away that day giddy that he had given his number to a cute girl, and you had walked away happy that you were finally getting chemistry help.

However, your happiness didn’t last long when you realized Jack Hughes had absolutely no idea what he was doing when it came to chemistry.

“No Jack!” You say bewilderingly as you watched him scribble a bunch of nonsense on your paper. “What is up with you?”

It was a week after you two had first met at the library and Jack was helping you out in the same study room he had walked into you crying last week.

“I’m sorry okay!” Jack panics, face in a red flush. “I have no idea what I’m doing! I don’t! I just said I did because you’re so cute and I couldn’t help it and I—”

Jack slaps his hands over his mouth before he could say further, shocked that he’s accidentally revealed to you how cute he thinks you are. “Oh my god.”

You furrow your eyebrows, but your stern look doesn’t last long before you burst out in giggles. “Why didn’t you just say so?” You ask.

He finally puts his hands back on the table, “I don’t know.. I guess I was scared of rejection.”

“You? Scared of rejection?” You raise your eyebrows. “Jack, you know girls in our grade and not in our grade would die to even be near you, right?”

Jack blushes at this, keeping his head down. “But those girls aren’t you, it’s different.”

Well goddamnit Jack Hughes, you really knew how to swoon a girl over.

"Really? And you're not just saying that to play me?"

Jack shakes his head quickly. "What? No Y/N, I would never."

And that was the start to yours and Jack's relationship. Although you still very much needed a chemistry tutor, you're glad the hockey player had somehow managed to sneak his way into your life, bringing joy and happiness while he was at it.

"Hey Rory, do you think this looks good on me?" Olivia "Livvy" Hughes, the Hughes' youngest child and also the only girl considered you as one of her best friends because you two were both girls. She was over the moon when Jack had brought you home, claiming she was going to finally have the sister she always wanted.

Needless to say, Quinn, Jack, and Luke were frowning that day at her comment.

The Hughes had started calling you Rory after Jack had. Why did he start calling you that? You really didn't know, but Jack had explained that the nickname was cute, and he had gotten it from your last name, which was Lerory.

"You look gorgeous Livvy!" You gleam happily, watching the younger girl in awe. "He is going to die."

"Who is going to die and why are you dressed up like you're going on a date Olivia Hughes?" The voice of your boyfriend makes you turn to face the boy, who had an unimpressed look on his face. "Who's the guy? Do I know him? I'm gonna kill him."

"Jack!" you scold, slapping his arm. "Your sister looks stunning, doesn't she?"

Jack mumbles something under his breath, to which you responded with an elbow to his side. "Fine. Yes Livs, you look amazing. Don't do anything stupid, alright?"

Livvy nods, before giving you a bone breaking hug for getting her brother off her back. She mumbles a love you thank you in your ear before running outside to Gabe, her date.

Jack places a kiss on your head, leading you to his room and placing a Netflix show on as background noise.

"I'm really glad you and Livvy get along," Jack says quietly. "I was worried you wouldn't for some reason."

"She's a great person J," you say, placing a peck on his lips. "And so are you."

The next time you're over at the Hughes house, there was a bunch of yelling and crying, much of which came from Jack and Livvy. Luke was on Jack's side, Quinn being gone in Vancouver.

"What's going on?" You mumble, feeling like you're an intruder coming into a scene that you were unwelcomed in.

"Did you know?!" Jack huffs angrily, now facing you.

"Did I know what, Jack?"

"Did you know she was dating Gabe Perreault? That kid who plays hockey for Princeton?"

So this is what this is all about. Jack was once again being his overprotective self.

"Yes J, I don't see the problem? He treats her well."

"Well I don't want her dating a hockey player! I know how they are! Luke and I know how they are!"

Livvy watches in tears as her brother continues yelling some more before making her way to you, practically falling into your arms.

"Jackson Rowden Hughes, you better stop yelling at Olivia before I do something about it. You are an adult, Jack. Livvy is an adult now, she's 18, she's allowed to date whomever she wants with or without your permission. Same goes with you, Luke Warren Hughes. You guys need to stop upsetting your sister! Just because Quinn isn't here doesn't mean you can corner and scream at her!"

Your words make Jack and Luke go mute, heads down in embarrassment when they realize how right your words were.

"Rory's right," Jack says awkwardly, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry Livvy. I didn't mean it, I just don't want you to get hurt."

Livvy nods, breaking the hug with you to go hug her brothers.

Later that night, Jack slips under the covers of his bed, putting his arms around your frame.

"You'd be a good mother Rory." He mumbles sleepily.

"Hm?"

"You'll be a good mom. I saw the way you handled my argument with Livvy earlier, thank you by the way. It shows how amazing you truly are." He places a kiss on your bare shoulder. "And I can't wait to have a family with you Y/N Lerory."

His words make you pull him closer, placing small kisses around his face. "I can't wait to have a family with you too, J."

Although Jack's words weren't true, and he wasn't ready at all.

Which is why the both of you were standing in the kitchen of your dorms, mascara running down your cheeks while Jack ruffles his hair in stress.

"What do you mean you're pregnant?" he says, eyebrows furrowing.

"Well what does it mean Jack?! It takes two people to make a baby!"

"You don't think I know that?!"

"Well by the way you're acting, it sure as hell feels like i'm the one at fault here!"

"I don't know Rory, I don't know." Jack's face is in his hands now, which gives you deja vu to when he first blurted out that he had found you cute. "I need time to think. I can't do this right now."

"What do you mean Jack?" you say, voice cracking as you reach out to him. "J, talk to me."

But he shakes his head, "I'm a professional hockey player now Y/N, you're a college student. I can't be doing this right now." With that, he leaves your dorm.

The next few days are spent with you in your bed, crying into your pillows. Your roommate, Madison, frowns as she watches your depressed state. She leaves an ice cream in your fridge, telling you words of encouragement and telling you that you can come to her anytime about anything.

When the news reaches Livvy, she's absolutely fuming, immediately taking out her phone to call you. Seeing your puffy eyes and cracked voice, she dials Jack right after, ready to give him a piece of her mind.

What she doesn't expect is to see him equally broken as you, eyebags heavy and eyes red.

"I know I fucked up Livs. I know." He says, crying at his desk. Although he's got the NHL title, a bunch of girls who would die to be with him, he still feels so utterly alone without you.

"You know what's funny Jack? You always warned me about how shitty hockey guys can be, you threw a fit because I was dating one, but you ended up being the biggest asshole of them all."

And Jack can do nothing but cry, because his younger sister's words were all too true.

[munsonluhvr]

THE TUTOR

pairing: virgin!eddie munson x virgin!reader. being the straight a+ student you are, you're asked to tutor the most difficult student at hawkins - Eddie Munson. word count: 3.6k. warnings: (18+) p in v, oral, fingering, body parts described, light cussing, probs misspellings.

“Y/n, come talk to me please,” Your teacher Mrs. Bennett asks, as you stand up from your desk. The bell had just rung, signaling that it was time to head to your next class. English was the class that just concluded, your favorite course for the semester. English came to you with ease, and you enjoyed to book you were reading so far. 

You walk up to Mrs. Bennett’s desk. “You wanted to speak to me?” 

Mrs. Bennett nods, taking her glasses off. “I’ve received another request for an English tutor to help… an older student.” You had been a peer tutor since your first year of high school, now entering your fourth year.

You cock your head to the side, “An older student?” 

Mrs. Bennett nods, “Yes; Eddie Munson.”

Your mouth slacks open, “You want me to tutor Eddie Munson? Hasn’t that been proven to be impossible?” You had heard from the small group of peer tutors that Eddie Munson had been proved to be a challenge, either showing up to tutor sessions smelling of weed or not showing up at all. 

Mrs. Bennett frowns, shaking her head. “Let’s be forgiving, y/n. Plus, all the students like you; your success rate is the highest of all the tutors. I thought you would be up for the…challenge.” 

You re-adjust your attitude, “Of course, Mrs. Bennett.” 

“Good,” Your teacher says, now smiling. “You should meet with him starting today, every day for the next couple of weeks. He really wants to graduate finally and a lot of his English grade rests on the final quiz.” 

You nod, listening closely. 

“-And here are the books his class is reading,” Mrs. Bennett says pushing a small stack of books towards you, “With tests quizzes to help further progress along.” 

“Great, I’ll start today,” You say, “Thank you, Mrs. Bennett.” 

Mrs. Bennett leans forward, “Goodluck, y/n.”

You back up from the desk, heading towards the door. On top of everything else you had going on; you didn’t need to be tutoring the Eddie Munson. 

You enter the hallway, dodging students that are rushing to their next class. You make your way to your next class, which was just down the hallway, thinking about your plan to help Eddie pass his last English class. Eddie was 20, failing to graduate two or three times, and he barely has the patience to pay attention. 

You make it to your next class, taking a deep breath in hopes to make it through the rest of the day. Which you did, your last two classes flying by quickly. Once your last class concludes, you made your way to the library in attempt to find out Eddie’s schedule and where to find him. 

When you push the door to the library open, you see Eddie standing at the desk. You hear the desk attendant say, “That’s her there,” and point to you. 

Eddie turns around, scanning you up and down. “Are you the poor soul who is going to attempt to help me pass my English class?” 

You nod, “That would, sadly, be me.” 

Eddie tucks his hands into his pockets, “The enthusiasm is overwhelming.” 

You shift the books that Eddie’s class in reading in your arms and you place them on the table that is nearby. “So, shall we start?” 

Eddie shrugs, coming over to the table and sorting through the pile of books you put down. You watch his nimble fingers, covered in big, metal rings, flip through the pages of the books, his shirt pulling up at the sleeves to reveal the tattoos of a cluster of black bats on his forearm. 

You had always heard rumors about Eddie Munson and his club, that were mostly started by the basketball team, and you always found him mysterious. You never believed that he was a freak like they called him, or that he was a devil worshiper. You knew that he lived in a rough neighborhood, the trailer park off of the highway, and that his uncle was his guardian. You always thought that those facts could impact the way a person acted. 

You are brought out of your thoughts when you notice Eddie waving his hand in front of your face. “Helloo, y/n?” 

“Sorry,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Let’s start.” 

Eddie eyes you suspiciously, but sits down in a chair, kicking his feet up on the table. You roll your eyes, sitting down as well. You flip through the book that Eddie’s class was reading, remembering when you read the book a year prior. 

You begin your tutoring session, making connections between the reading and the discussion questions that were in the papers that Mrs. Bennett has given you. You feel Eddie’s eyes on you as he listens to you. You look over at him after a few minutes, “Are you even listening?” 

Eddie kicks his feet of the table, leaning forward onto the table, his face only a few inches from yours. “I’m listening.” 

You clench your jaw, backing up a few inches. You shake your head, starting to get frustrated, “Look, I’m not the one about to miss graduation for the third time. I’d suggest paying a little more attention.” 

Eddie smiles, amused by your attitude. “It’s a little hard when a girl as pretty as you is talking.” 

You roll your eyes, having heard about Eddie’s playful, flirty side. You had also heard that he was equally shy. “Eddie, seriously.” 

Eddie laughs, “I am being serious.”

You ignore him, continuing on with summarizing the book, writing down short notes for Eddie to refer to and study. You continue on like this for the next hour, the hallway quieting down as everyone has gone home. You decided it was best to end the tutoring session, Eddie’s attention starting to fade away. 

“See you tomorrow?” Eddie says, collecting the notes you had made for him. You nod, heading towards the library entrance. “Same time, same place.” 

You pushed the door open, and head out of the library. The hallway was significantly cooler then the library and you felt your cheeks blush when you thought about Eddie’s compliment. You shook it off making your way home. 

When you get home, your mom is waiting for you, bouncing your younger sibling on her hip. “Where have you been?” 

“I had a tutoring session; sorry I’m home late.” 

Your mother passed your baby sister to you as she stirred the pot that was boiling on the stove. “I just found out I have a meeting tomorrow at the same time you normally tutor so I need you to cancel so you can watch your sister.” 

You roll your eyes, strapping your sister into her highchair. “I can’t just cancel, mom.” 

Your mother sighs, looking over her shoulder at you. “I know you’ll figure just something out. Just be home right after school, okay?” 

You nod, leaving the kitchen to head up to your room. 

The next day of school went by quick, your mind occupied with solving your study location issue. After your fourth-class finishes, you step out into the hallway, joining the crowd of students. A few feet away, you see Eddie standing with his friends, seemingly his club members by their matching shirts, and you make your way towards them. 

Dustin, one of the boys standing around Eddie, nudges Eddie to alert him of your presence. Eddie turns around to greet you. “Y/n,” 

“Eddie,” you say, taking a peek at the couple of boys that stood behind him. They all stare at you with curiosity. “I need to switch where we’re meeting later. Can you come to my house instead of the library? I have to watch my sister for my mom.” Dustin’s mouth slacks slightly at the sound of you, a girl, inviting Eddie to your house. 

Eddie nods, his eyes scanning your face. “Yeah, that works. What your address?”

You rattle off your address, starting to back away. “Come around 4,” you say, hoping your mom would be gone by then. You weren’t sure what she’d think about inviting a boy over when she wasn’t there, even if it was just for a tutor session. 

The rest of the day blew by and before you knew it, you were standing in front of your mirror that stood on a stand next to your dresser. You toss your hair, leaning in close to inspect the lip gloss you just applied. You shake your head at yourself, catching yourself primping for Eddie. Downstair, you hear someone knock at the door. You glanced at your clock, seeing that it was half past four.  

You jog down your stairs, hoping the knock didn’t wake up your infant sister who you had just put down for a nap. You open the door and Eddie is leaning in the doorway. 

“Hey,” he says, stepping around you to enter your house. “Nice place.” 

“Thanks, now be quiet, I just put my sister down for a nap.”

“Sorry,” He whispers, readjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

“Follow me,” you say, guiding Eddie up the stairs. You lead him into your room, shutting the door behind you quietly.

“So, this is the princesses’ room,” Eddie says, taking a look around your room. He seats himself on your bed, picking up your stuffed bear that rested near your pillow. Eddie smiles, making the bear waves it’s hand at you. You roll your eyes, sitting next to him on your bed. “Hand me your books,” you say, putting your hand out. 

Eddie unzips his bag, pulling the books out. He hands them to you, your fingers brushing his. You pause as Eddie glances at you. Your faces are only a few inches apart, close enough to notice that his clothes smelled like cigarettes mixed with laundry detergent. Your breath hitches, and you cough to break the silence. Eddie blinks out of his trance, pulling out the notes you had made for him the day prior. “These were really helpful when I looked them over last night, thanks.” 

You nod, “Good; of course.”

Again, another instance of silence occurred, and you glance at Eddie to see he’s looking at your freshly glossed lips. “Eddie, are you ready?” Eddie jumps slightly, turning his head to his laps where his notebook lays. “Yup, ready.” 

You blush, wondering what Eddie was thinking while he looked at your lips. You begin to start your tutoring session for the next hour, Eddie actively paying attention. You felt like you and Eddie were making good strides and you felt confident enough to interrupt and initiate a snack break. 

“Do you want water, soda?” You ask Eddie, standing up from your bed. 

Eddie shrugs, “Whatever you have, I’ll have too.” 

You nod, moving to leave your room. You take a trip downstairs, grabbing two soda cans from the fridge. You run back up the stairs, taking the stairs by two, and enter your room again. Eddie stands at your dresser, picking up the small picture frames of you and your friends at the beach. He notices you walk in and moves back to your bed. You walk over to where he sits, on the foot of your bed, and hand him a soda can. Again, your fingers brush Eddie’s. 

You lift the tab, opening the drinking hole, and Eddie does the same. You take a sip, realizing how thirsty you are. Eddie leans back against your bed foot-frame, glancing at you. You lean back on your hands, creating extra distance between you and Eddie. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Eddie asks, boldly

You swallow your sip of soda hard, making eye contact with Eddie. “No; why do you ask?” 

“Because you don’t have any photos of guys, it’s just you and your friends,” Eddie says simply. 

You glance at your dresser full of picture frames, and then back to Eddie. “Yeah, no boyfriend.” 

Eddie continues to stare at you, and you squirm under his attention. 

You break the silence, “Do you have a girlfriend?” You feel foolish asking, but why couldn’t you ask too? 

Eddie scoffs, turning his attention away from you. “Like anyone would date a freak.” 

You frown, “That can’t be true. You’re a good-looking guy.” You blush when you realize what you’ve said. Eddie glances at you once again, a curious look on his face. 

“You think so?” Eddie says, leaning forward, closing the gap between you and him. His face is only a few inches from yours, sending the scent of his cigarettes and laundry detergent back to you. He placed his can of soda on the ground, right on your white shag rug. 

You nod, letting him invade your personal space. Suddenly, you feel the intense urge to let him truly invade your personal space, your attraction to him causing you to lean close to him. In an instant, your face was only an inch from his. You had very little experience with guys, and you assumed Eddie had no experience with girls, yet you felt confidence of an experienced women. You didn’t know where these feelings came from, but you wanted to explore them more. 

You push your lips into Eddie’s, and in an instant he responds to your gesture. Your lips move roughly with his, Eddie’s tongue slipping into your mouth. You sigh at the feeling, your stomach forming a knot in anticipation. Eddie pushes you back, your back laying on your bed. 

Eddie kicks his shoes off, climbing on top of you. You arrange your body in a way that allows him to nestle himself on top of you. Eddie cups your face with his ring covered hand, deepening the kiss. You feel his nerves showcasing themselves in his movements, each touch un-confident and inexperienced.

Eddie moves his hands down further from your face, never breaking contact with your lips, as he cups your breast over your shirt. Your body reacts intensely to his touch, your body craving him. You break the kiss with Eddie to lean up and lift your shirt up and off. Eddie’s eyes widen at the sight of your bra-covered chest, and you lay back on your bed, letting your fingers play with the bottom of Eddie’s t-shirt. 

Eddie gets the hint and lifts his shirt off. You reach out, cupping his face and guiding him into yours. You feel Eddie harden in his jeans as your almost bare chest presses against his. Your core aches for Eddie’s touch, every touch becoming more desperate. 

Eddie feels hunger for you too, his mind in autopilot. His fingers toy with the band of your jeans, his nimble fingers moving to unzip your pants. You help him by wiggling out of your pants, leaving yourself in just your bra and underwear. You thank yourself for picking out your decent underwear, so you didn’t embarrass yourself.

 You spread your legs open wider, Eddie settling himself between your thighs. Eddie moves a hand to let his hand grope you between your thighs. You moan softly, sending Eddie into a tizzy. Eddie pulls his big, chunky rings off, letting them drop to the floor. He pulls your panties to the side, letting his fingers plunge into you. 

You gasp, your hands clutching your sheets. Eddie breaks the kiss, your mouth agape as you breathe heavily. He peppers your neck in kisses, letting them trail to your chest and between your breasts. Eddie’s fingers move out of you in a rhythm, pressure beginning to build in your abdomen. Your hips jut up, expressing how you were experiencing pleasure from Eddie’s touch. 

You feel the urge to taunt Eddie, drawing him in to pull his pants off and pleasure you. You lean up again, un-clipping your bra. Your breasts fall out and Eddie is quick to move his kisses on your nipple. Eddie, takes your nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue across your bud. You place your hand into Eddie’s long, curly hair, pulling him further onto your chest. Eddie feels your desperation radiating off your skin, laced in every movement you make. He pulls away from you, standing up next to the bed to unzip his pants, leaving him in his boxers. 

You bite your lip at the sight of Eddie’s tent in his black boxers, and you forget that you’re essentially naked in front of a boy for the first time. Eddie climbs back onto the bed, kneeling below you. You part your legs to allow for more space on the bed. He kneels, moving your legs so they rest on his shoulders. He hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your legs slowly while he makes eye-contact with you. He flicks your panties to the ground, leaving you completely naked. 

Eddie gazes at you for a moment, taking in the beautiful sight of your naked body. He moves to hover over your body, aligning himself with you again. His face dips down, his lips meeting yours once again, and you take the opportunity to hook your fingers into his boxers, pushing them down his thighs. He helps you, kicking them off, letting them fall to the floor. Eddie trails kisses from your lips to your neck and you take the initiative to look at Eddie’s cock. Your stomach clenches at the sight of it, its large size intimidating you. 

Eddie, nuzzles his face into your neck, leaning on his arm. “Can I?” 

You nod, spreading your legs open to let him in. Eddie lines himself up with you and you take a deep breath. With one swift push, Eddie enters you, his size demanding your sex to adjust to fit his size. You grab on to his bicep, squeezing it roughly as you react to the slight feeling of pain. 

Eddie starts out with slow thrusts, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him further into you. You moan softly, your eyes fluttering shut. Eddie sighs too, the feeling of you clenched around him sending shivers up his arms and down his torse. 

“Fuck, Eddie.” You say, your back arching. Your nipples graze his chest, and Eddie takes notice. His pace quickens, his movements a little rougher. 

Your fingertips graze his sides, his warm skin feeling hot against your cold, exposed skin. Eddie initiates another kiss with you, and you lean into it. Eddie’s strokes continue, sending pleasure up your body. Your head was spinning with thoughts but all you could think about is how your body fit perfectly with Eddie’s. 

“You feel so good, y/n,” Eddie mutters against your lips. 

Your skin flushes at Eddie’s comment, your thighs clenching around his waist. Eddie’s movements weren’t enough for you, your body craving more. You maneuver your foot between his and use it as leverage to move yourself on top of Eddie. Now, Eddie lays on his back, his face expressing shock from the whirlwind you sent him in. You sink down on the length of his cock and his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure. 

You begin to rock back and forth, like you had seen in the movies, and knew you were doing it right by the way Eddie reacted to your movements. You grasp Eddie’s hands, moving them to your waist. Eddie’s grasp tightens around your hip bones, helping you set the tempo. 

Eddie moans loudly, one of his hands moving to your backside. Eddie sits up, colliding his lips with yours. “I’m close,” Eddie says, between kisses. 

You sigh, wishing the moment could go on forever. You lean back, creating inches of distance between you and Eddie. You let your fingertips graze his cheek, taking in his features. He was truly a beautiful person.

You push him back, moving from your position on his cock. Eddie frowns, missing the feeling of you clenched around him. You back up, taking his length into your hand. Eddie shivers under your touch, watching you take his member into your mouth. His fingers intertwine in your hair, pushing you down further. You bob your head, discovering your love the action of giving head. 

Quicker than you wished, Eddie comes in the back of your throat, his hip jutting up to push his entire self down your throat. Now, you missed the feeling of him moving in and out of you, your mind full of filthy things you wanted to try. 

You stand up, feeling awkward and exposed all of a sudden. You pick your panties off the ground, stepping into them, and put your t-shirt on over your head, leaving your bra on the floor. You toss Eddie’s underwear to him, and he catches them, his eyes lingering on you. 

“So..” Eddie says, sitting up and swinging his legs to the side of your bed. 

You look up at him, a small smile on your lips, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You don’t know what to say, not knowing how the moment got so out of hand. You were studying, drinking soda, and then before you knew it you were naked, Eddie deep inside of you. 

“We should probably continue studying tomorrow.” You say, leaning against your dresser. 

Eddie frowns, cocking his head at you. Your mind is in a flutter, your eyes gazing at Eddie’s barely clothed body. “You’re really going to graze over what just happened?” 

Your eyes shift, going from Eddie’s eyes to the floor. “I don’t really know what happened, honestly.” 

Eddie laughs, once again amused by you. “I think we should do it again; after I take you out on a date of course.” 

Your eyes snap to his, your eyebrows raised. “A date?” 

Eddie shrugs, picking his rings off the floor. “Would you be interested?” 

You didn’t even have to think about it. You were intrigued by Eddie, his mysterious and complex persona pulling you in. You also didn’t mind that he had just performed perfectly in bed. 

“I’d love to.” 

[b3ach-bunn7]

TRUTH OR DARE

You and Gojo are constantly in battle at the top of your classes. The tension that always seems to surround you comes to head at a party

Academic rivals, enemies to lovers, a little mature but nothing too bad

——————————————————————

You wonder how much trouble you’ll be in if you kill Satoru Gojo.

It’s something you think about often, despite how wrong you know the violent thoughts tend to be. You imagine reaching over in English, where he sits directly in front of you, and throttling his neck, right before the dip of his collarbone, the paleness of his smooth skin blooming under your palms.

Of course, you haven’t always been like this. At every school you’ve been to, your need for academic validation drove you to the top of your classes and that was where it ended. There was no competition. You were, as vain as it sounded, the smartest, and you always had been. There’d never really been much competition, and you’d loved your position at the top.

That all changed when you started at Jujutsu High School.

It had been after your first History exam. For the most part, you’d kept your head down, made a few friends. You hadn’t spoken to most people, but you didn’t mind the lack of attention. It was after your teacher had passed back your exams, a beaming smile on his face as he passed you the paper with a bright red ‘99%’, that he’d turned around.

The first thing you noticed was his bright blue eyes. They seemed to bore into you as they fell on your face, flitting over your features, before falling on your paper. You sneak a glance at his, and catch the ‘97%’ before he shifts it out of your eyeline. The next thing you notice is how unfortunately attractive he is, even as his face contorts into a sneer.

“You beat me?” His voice is low, as if he’s scared for anyone else to hear.

“Yeah. I guess.”

He scoffed. “Well, don’t get used to it. Me not being first isn’t a very common occurrence around here.”

You’d been annoyed enough at his cockiness that you’d snarled back, “I wasn’t ‘around here’ before. We’ll see if you stay first. If my 99% is anything to go by, you probably won’t.”

Sure, maybe you could’ve been mature and not fall for his obvious ploy to taunt you. But self-control was not one of your strong points, and it seemed to get even worse around him. Your snipe back seemed to have introduced a back and forth between the two of you.

Every test, every project, the two of you were fighting for the top place. He’d beat you in a maths paper, and you ran for longer during the bleep test. Gojo drove you to revise harder, spend more time holed up in the library, if only to get one step further. Not only that, but he loved to taunt you. How you’d tie your hair, the way you’d colour code all your notes. Any little thing to spike your blood pressure. Gojo would grin, mouth turning up at the corners, eyes boring into yours, his stupid perfect, soft hair falling into his eyes, laughing in that stupid way he did.

Today, his annoying laugh infiltrates your ears as he brandishes your latest English essay, that had received a smiley face. Which, from Mr Choy, was no easy feat. The max praise he dished out was a nod, imperceptible at best. As if that wasn’t bad enough, this was English. Your subject, the one you’d always been best at, everywhere. He couldn't get this as well.

“Look. Right under my A+, a beautiful smiley face. This must be due to my academic prowess.” He grins.

He leans over his chair to your desk, where he points at your paper, which is very obviously void of any emoticons. The scent of his cologne, something piney and expensive, infiltrates your nose, and you want to shove him away.

“Huh. That’s funny. Yours doesn’t have one.” He pouts, tilting his head in fake sympathy.

“Shut up, Gojo.”

“Wow. Remarkable response. I see why I’m better at English than you.”

You splutter, snatching your paper from under his eyes,“You’re not better at English than me.”

His fingers drum over the paper. “You sure?”

You decide to ignore him. You turn your attention to the two girls besides you who are talking about Sukuna’s party. You were invited, but you weren’t really sure if you’d go yet. Parties weren’t exactly the funnest thing in the world. All sweaty teenagers and alcohol.

Gojo must see you watching them because he, of course, has to chime in.

“Are you going to Sukuna’s?”

“I might.”

“Were you even invited?”

You cross your arms over your chest, a spike of irritation travelling up your spine.

“Yes, I was invited.”

Gojo makes a face then, like it’s the most unbelievable thing that could happen on planet earth.

“Is that a surprise to you?”

He shrugs, and turns back around. “I didn’t think parties were your thing.”

“You don’t know what my thing is.”

He turns back around. A slant of light catches on his face, maybe his eyes seem impossibly bluer as they focus on you. You turn your gaze down, to avoid the sheer scrunity you’re under.

“I think I could guess. Friday night holed up in a library or your house with a stack of books? Even the thought of alcohol sending you into a shock?” He clutched a hand to his chest.

“Fuck off.” Gojo winces at your tone.

“God. You kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Gojo nods slowly, patting your hand, which you snatch away. “It’s okay. I know all that studying doesn’t leave time for love.”

“Well. I don’t have a boyfriend but that doesn’t mean I’m not seeing anyone.”

You don’t know why you said that. You’re definitely not seeing anyone right now. You’d only been at Jujutsu high for about two months. You could count the boys at this school you’d spoken to on one hand. But Gojo didn’t need to know that.

And it was the right decision. Because upon hearing your words, Gojo looks… Weird. His face sort of freezes slightly, and you’re sure he’s clenching his jaw by how a muscle suddenly clenches in it. But the surprise is gone as quickly as it arrived, and he blinks back to his normal, unbothered expression.

“Really? Who?”

“Don’t think that’s any of your buisness.”

“Whatever. Doubt it’ll last anyways.” He says it with a curl of disgust that has you frowning.

“Just turn around, you dick.”

“Okay. But not because you told me to.”

So infuriating. His cocky, self-assured nature is why you decide that lunchtime you are definitely going to Sukuna’s party.

You make this decision with Shoko. She’s probably the closest friend you’d made since you got here. Despite the fact that Gojo, her and the other boy that hung around them were all best friends. She listened to your rants about how insufferable Gojo was, and how much you wanted to throttle him with enough enthusiasm to keep you going. She was also under the impression you liked him, but you ignored those comments.

“You should’ve heard him, Shoko. Like I was disgusting, or something. God, he’s so annoying.” You shout the last sentence in your palms which are covering your face.

Shoko grins, popping a bubble with the nicotine gum she’d started chewing. You knew her no smoking wouldn’t last. She went through this every couple weeks, at your incessant nagging.

“Who gives a shit what he says? He’s never had a girlfriend before.”

Your mouth drops open a little. He’s definitely attractive enough to get a girlfriend. It must be his abhorrent personality that stops him. You don’t realise you said that out loud until Shoko raises an eyebrow.

“You think he’s attractive?” She coos, fanning her face dramatically.

“Shut up. What are you gonna wear?”

You spend the rest of your lunch discussing outfits and making Shoko promise not to leave you alone while you’re there, which she begrudgingly does, after your promise to buy her more gum.

———-

Upon walking into Sukuna’s house, you realise exactly why you don’t go to parties.

The atmosphere is thick with the stench of alcohol, and the music is loud enough you feel it beating in your chest. Shoko had insisted the two of you arrive fashionably late, so you’d avoid the awkward first part of the party before any alcohol had started working its way through peoples systems and broken the tension. You’d taken a couple shots at her house, as she swiped something glittery across your eyelids, and the drinks were warming the inside of your stomach.

Shoko’s hand is clasped around your wrist as she pulls you through the house. You feel eyes lingering on you. It’s the first time anyone at school has seen you in anything but the uniform. You’re wearing a short black dress, the expanse of your legs and probably a little too much of your chest out on display. You’d also rubbed some of this weird glittery stuff Shoko had in her house all over yourself, so you were sort of glinting under the lights. You didn’t mind the stares too much. It was ego boosting if anything.

You arrive in the furthest room, where the majority of your classmates have congregated. You see Sukuna, Uraume, who hangs off his arm, and who you think are Mahito and Choso, lounging on the couch. Sukuna is attractive. Muscular arms and pink hair that the school’s incessant nagging hadn’t affected. He was hot in a hes-no-good-for-me type of way, and you look away quickly when he locks eyes with you across the room. You see other gaggles of groups, even surprisingly Sukuna’s younger brother, Yuji, whos laughing with a dark-haired boy and a girl who sort of looks like Shoko.

The girl in mention takes you to one corner, where Gojo and his friend are in animated conversation. The former immediately stops talking upon your arrival. His eyes travel up your body, lingering on your legs, your chest, before they rest on your eyes. He doesn’t greet you, just looks away. Which is a shame, because the black button down and trousers hes wearing, paired with the silver chain that dangles from his neck, look disgustingly good on him. The boy next to him, on the other hand, smirks in a way that should be illegal, and extends a hand.

“Hi. I’m Geto, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

His voice can only be described as silk, smooth and rumbling from deep in his chest. You don’t even think about how it’s kind of weird he’s asking to shake your hand. You just reach out, shake it, and hope the flush you feel on your cheeks isn’t visible. You tell him your name, and a more mischievous grin break out across his face.

“Hey wait, I know you. You’re the girl Satoru always talks about!”

Gojo turns, suddenly. “Suguru-”

“Oh, really?” You grin at Gojo, “What does he say about me?”

“He’s always complaining when you beat him in class, or when you say something snarky to him, which I find quite funny. Just today he was hating on the fact you got a bo- Ow!”

He’s cut off by a sharp elbow in his gut. Gojo’s clenching his jaw, a look so murderous on his face you let out at laugh. Its much less funny when he aims it at you.

“Shut up. I’m getting a drink.” He points at Geto. “You. Don‘t speak while I'm gone.”

You give it a minute before you follow Gojo to the kitchen, telling Shoko you’re getting your own drink. You ignore the knowing look on her face. He’s leaning against the counter when you walk in, and you try ignore his eyes on your back as you survey the options of drinks. You end up pouring coke and an alarming amount of vodka in a red cup.

“Woah. Careful there. You don’t want to have too much fun, now. You might ditch your academia and become a party girl.”

You fake a laugh. “I know you’d love to see me drunk. It’d give you more stuff to talk to Geto about, right?”

You grin as his smile drops.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“I don’t know. It really sounded like he did. What, are you obsessed with me or something?” You sigh, pressing a hand to your heart. “I’m flattered, really.”

Gojo doesn’t move for a second. Then he gets up, walks towards you.

“Do you want me to be?”

“W-what?” You stutter out a laugh.

He’s close enough that you back up into the counter. He doesn’t stop moving though, until he’s right in front of you. He rests his palms on the table behind you. Your breath pauses, a flush rising in your cheeks. You think you should push him away, because the scent of him is overwhelming, and his height is allowing him to tower over you. But you can’t. Even though you loathe him you can’t step away from him.

He leans lower, and his face is so close your lips are almost touching. You’re faintly aware of the people talking outside and how this must look if they walked in.

“Do you want me to be obsessed with you? To think about you when I’m in my room.”

His lips almost touch yours as he speaks. He moves to the side, now talking right into your ear.

“At night, when I’m alone. When I’m hot and I’m bothered and-“

Someone goes to open the kitchen door and the moment is broke. You push him off you, grab your drink and storm out the room before anyone catches you flustered at his hands.

What is his deal? Acting like- Acting like that. In public. Where anyone could of walked in, and seen how close you two were to kissing. Not that you want to kiss him. You don’t like Gojo, not like that. Not even as a friend.

It’s not like you think about him all the time. Only when you’re studying, because of course you need to focus your efforts on beating him. Or whenever you’re in class, because his white head is the only thing in your eyeline. Or whenever you see something blue.

But it’s not like you imagine kissing him. Or notice any of those details about him. Only when he looks at you. Really looks at you, like in class earlier that day, like he did in the kitchen.

Oh.

Oh.

Shit.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Mahito suddenly shoots up from the couch. He’s energetic in an annoying way, always laughing and pissing someone off. You keep your distance. He announces that you’re going to play Truth or dare. The room pauses, unsure of how to react. Most of them look to Sukuna to see his reaction. He looks quite excited about it though.

“Isn’t that kind of childish? We aren’t 12.” Mako speaks up from across the room.

“Piss off, Maki. Don’t play then.” Her sister, Mai, says.

They’re both opposites, one dressed in a tight dress and the other jeans. They both sit on the floor in a circle, anyway. The rest of the group follows. Shoko sits next to you and you desperately avoid eye contact with Gojo, who has sat directly in front of you. Shoko noticed the tension and whisper to whisper in your ear.

“Is there something going on with you and Gojo?”

“No. Nothing.”

“You sure? You look kinda flushed.”

“Shut up.”

You shove her as she laughs. You parented you can’t feel someone staring right into you.

The game goes smoothly at the start. A couple dares to eat something disgusting, a few kisses. truths which lead to confessions, some to arguments. The circle shuffles as two people leave (most likely to make out) and you find yourself next to Sukuna. He nods at you and you give him a smile.

“Hiya.”

“Hello.” His voice is deep, gravelly.

“Nice party.”

“Thanks. My parents are definitely going to love the stench of alcohol in our carpets.”

You laugh and he grins. It makes him look awfully like his brother.

“You know, I’m surprised you invited your brother. I would have locked my sister in her room if she asked to come to a party I was throwing.” You marvel, nodding at the boy in question.

“Yeah, he begged me. And I owe him. Left him outside in the rain last week because I forgot to pick him up.” He shakes his head. “It was invite him or he told our parents.”

“He’s sweet, though. Other than the blackmail. Showed me around on my first day.”

Sukuna scoffs. “Of course he did. Ever the goody-two shoes. Teachers love him.”

“They don’t love you then?” You smile.

“Nah. I’m not the best behaved.” He grins again, and it stops looking cute like Yuji’s smile and turns into something much more troublesome.

“Mhm. I see how that’d get on their nerves.”

He stretches slightly, and his shirt rides up his arm, and you see a tattoo.

“Woah. That looks cool.” Your fingers graze them lightly.

You realise the alcohol you’d been slowly drinking has made you much braver than usual. You dont think Sukuna minds. You’re well aware of him flexing his biceps for you. What a show off.

“Thanks. Did them when I was sixteen.” He sounds wistful.

“You make it sound like it was ages ago.”

He shrugs.”Feels like it. I don’t regret them, but they don’t make getting a job any easier.”

“Are we going to keep playing, or what?”

Gojo’s voice cuts across the room, and everyone immediately sits back down. It’s not his party, evident by the sour expression on Sukuna’s face, but everyone just listens to Gojo. He has a weird sort of control over everyone. Even though he was a nerd, smart and perfect at every subject, every girl wanted to be with him and every guy wanted to be him.

You meet his eyes across the room and his face is thunderous. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, but he just looks away.

“Okay, my turn!” Shoko grins. There’s a cigarette in her mouth and you sigh at its presence.

The game is simple. Spin the bottle in the middle, and whoever it lands on gets asked a truth or dare. You had not been picked yet. It’s why you’re not paying much attention when the bottle lands on you. Shoko woops, and Sukuna nudges your shoulder.

“Lucky you.”

“Not lucky at all. Look at her face. I’m fucked.” You wince at the expression Shoko is pulling.

“Truth or dare.”

“Uhm. Truth?”

Sukuna boos. “Come on, be fun. Pick dare.”

You whine. “But she’s so mean.”

“Come on.” He drags out his syllables, and you groan.

“Okay fine, fine.”

“Good girl.” He murmurs. You flush slightly and he turns to the rest of your peers.

“She picks dare.” He holds your arm up in the air and you laugh.

Shoko pauses. Thinks. You see her glance at Gojo, just for a second, and you feel your heart stutter in your chest.

“I dare you. To have seven minutes in heaven. Or in seven minute in a pantry, whatever’s available.”

Oh, god.

“With Sukuna.”

Oh.

Cheers erupt from your friends. Someone whistles, and Sukuna just smiles. He offers you his hand, and you take it, a furious red covering your face. You see Gojo for one second before he leads you to his pantry, and he looks like he’s about to kill someone.

Maybe he feels the same way. Maybe. Why else would he be so angry?

Sukuna shuts the door, and you feel the awkwardness the second he does. You don’t know if you expect him to kiss you, or if he expects you to kiss him. You don’t really want to, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“So.” He says.

“Uh. I like your pantry.”

He pauses for a second. And then bursts out laughing. You cover your face with your hands, cursing Shoko under you breath.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I don’t know why she did this.” You groan.

“It’s cool. It’s because of Gojo, right?”

You pause. Other people were aware of your crush? You’d only just found out a couple minutes ago.

“I- What do you mean? What about him?”

“I mean, you like him, right? And he likes you”

“Really? Do you think so? That he likes me?”

Sukuna smiles at you again, and you’re suddenly very glad he wasn’t some dick who was going to try and force himself on you. You were surprised. He looked much meaner around school than he was being right now.

“Duh. He looked like he was gonna kill me just ‘cause we were talking. And i saw you guys in the kitchen getting all freaky.” He snorts at you embarrassed face.

“Okay, we weren't getting freaky. And also, i didn’t even realise I liked him until today.”

You're both leaning against opposite sides of the wall. You thump your head against it, groaning.

“I don’t know what to do. We spend every minute arguing, i don’t even know how I’d tell him”

Sukuna ponders it for a moment. “You wanna make him jealous?”

You probably shouldn’t. You’d seen the look on his face when you just spoke to Sukuna. If that look was actually aimed at you. You couldn’t be sure. It would be best to find out. Definitely the smartest, most logical solution.

“Okay. Sure. But, i don't think i want to-”

“Its okay.” Sukuna holds up a hand.

He ruffles a hand through his hair, and starts biting his lips. Oh. You get his drift, and do the same. You ruffle your own hair, smear the lipgloss on your lips across your face.

“Wait, come here.” You pull him towards you and press your glossy fingers to his chin.

Sukuna is cool. In another world, maybe you would’ve ended up with him.

The two of you collect yourself (or pretend to) and open the door. You find that the Truth or Dare circle has split, and everyone has split back into their groups. You search for Gojo, and you catch him across the room, staring at you. He looks at your messed up gloss, Sukuna’s ruffled hair. The muscle in his jaw clicks, and he turns away.

And then nothing.

Sukuna winces next to you. “Yikes. Sorry about that.”

“It's fine. Thanks for the help.” Sukuna nods once, then walks off.

God. You don’t know what you expected. For him to barge in and rip you and Sukuna apart, then kiss you? It was stupid. You were stupid to even think about acting on your stupid crush.

You decide to go outside to get some fresh air. You go out the front door, away from the backyard smokers. The sky is clear and it’s cold, but you can’t bring yourself to go back inside to get your coat. You just watch the stars and think about how the hell you’ll get over this.

Maybe let him beat you in a couple tests. He’ll get his ego boost and lose any expectations that you’d ever beat him again and leave you alone.

The door behind you opens and slams shut. You turn around, hands rubbing at the goosebumps on your arms. It’s Gojo.

“What the hell was that?”

He walks out and stands in front of you. This isn’t like before though. There’s no tension, just his anger.

“What- What are you on about, Gojo?”

He laughs, mirthless and sarcastic. “God, don’t give me that. You were practically throwing yourself at Sukuna the whole time we were in there.”

“I- There’s-“

“Touching his arm, fucking doing, I don’t know, whatever the hell you were doing in that closet.”

You cross your arms, frowning. “Whatever the hell I was doing in there is none of your concern.”

“It- God, you’re so difficult. Did you know that?”

You could hit him. Really just slap him across the face.

“Me? I’m the difficult one? I’m not the one pressing up against you in the middle of the kitchen and simultaneously tormenting you every day.”

“I don’t torment you.”

“Yes you do.”

Gojo takes a step closer to you. You want to take one back but you let the distance between you two get smaller.

“I torment you because you drive me mad.”

“Why? What do I do to drive you mad?” You say, voice carrying out into the empty front porch.

“You just do. God, it’s like you don’t know how fucking gorgeous you look all the time. When you’re working out a question and you bite your lip. How smart you are, almost as smart as me. The way you just challenge me all the time and it’s all I can do not to kiss you to get you to shut the fuck up.”

You mouth moves but no words come out.

“Yeah, just like that. Silent.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“And then you walk in here with the stupid dress. Your legs and your tits fucking glowing in the lights. And then you’re flirting with Geto and throwing yourself at Sukuna.”

He’s even closer now. Just like in the kitchen, except this time there’s no people searching for alcohol to interrupt you.

“And then you were in that pantry and I nearly broke the door down. And you walk out, and you have that expression on your face. Hair all messed up.” He runs his fingers through your hair.

“Your lip gloss all ruined.” He drags them over your lips. His thumb dips into your mouth and he lets out a shaky breath as your lips close around it.

“Hell, I could’ve fucked you right there.”

Before you can think about it, your hands curl into the collar of his shirt, and you pull him down and kiss him.

Gojo freezes for a second before he moans into your mouth. He returns the kiss with fervour, lips slotting against yours messily. Like everything the two of you do, you’re fighting. He pushes, you push harder. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and you open your mouth. He grins against you, tongue licking against your teeth and your gums. He moves from your mouth to your jaw. The part where your neck meets your shoulder. He sucks marks onto your neck and they bloom onto your skin. You moan. Your hand card through his hair, and it’s just as soft as you always thought it’d be.

You moan his name, and he shakes his head.

“No. No, Satoru. Say it, say my name.”

“S-Satoru.” You whisper, and he shudders.

“So fucking gorgeous.”

He hikes one of your legs up by his waist. Your dress slips up your thighs and you feel the heat rising up your neck. He uses your free hand to grip at your chest, mouth still working its way down your body.

“God, you taste so good.” He says in between kisses.

“Shut up..” You breathe out, head thrown back against the wall.

He stops then. Gojo looks you in the eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Really? You want me to stop?”

You roll your eyes. “No, idiot. I want you to keep kissing me, I want you to stop talking.”

He hums under his breath. His lips are swollen and red, and he looks so good you reach forward for him again. But he stops you.

“No. If you ask me nicely, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I don’t want to do that.” You say.

“Come on. Use that beautiful brain of yours.”

You sigh.

“Please.” Your voice is flat and he laughs.

“Ah, you can do better than that.”

You roll your eyes at his smug face. He’s got you pushed against a wall, dress hiked up your thighs, and he’s got the nerve to be asking you to ask for things.

“Please, Gojo, please oh please will you kiss me. Your lips are all I think about, all I dream about-“

He cuts off your rambling by fulfilling your wish. You moan into his mouth, your palms sliding down his chest. He pulls back slightly, kisses your jaw, then your chin.

“See. So much prettier when you just stop talking.” He tilts his head and you roll your eyes.

“Fuck off. I could say the same about you.”

He hums. His fingers trail down, down past your stomach and your thighs. They slip under your dress and your breath catches as he grins something devilish.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fuck the attitude out of you.”

——————————————————————

If you love enemies to lovers (specifically academic) PLEASE read all of Ann liangs books they r incredible!

[vintagexherry]

Child's Play [4]

Part 3 here

YandereBully!Miguel O'Hara x Reader

//Bullying, degradation, mentions of bribery, Threating, Miguel being rich and a playboy, ooc Miguel, mentions of beating someone

Previously

You and Steven quickly leave the cafeteria leaving Miguel and his girl to go on their way but Miguel watches as you listen to him intently something about Egyptian gods.

And as you go further and futher away from him, not even sparing him a glance or a glare or anything, he swears he feels his eye twitch at what he just witnessed.

You and Steven gotten real close since that incident in the cafeteria

Miguel notices

Miguel doesn't like it one bit

Weeks pass since that day and you've been doing a good job at avoiding him now that you finally have a "friend" to go with time to time.

Although you and Steven aren't taking the same course, Both of you still bonded tightly, bonding over what you hate in the school, subjects that you both take, and Steven's strange fond with Egyptian mythological gods especially someone that's named Konshu.

You could admit everytime he talks about it, it is interesting learning about something you never paid attention to. But of course you can't bond all the time due to difference in courses.

Miguel notices

Miguel takes advantage of it.

Everytime you don't have your weird, shy, history freak of a buddy with you, he would always sit next to you, always comment about what you wear, kick you under the table cus he "feels like it" and of course degrade you for the little things.

He already does this since high school, but you hate it when he drags Steven into it.

"You two been fucking or what? Can't say I'm surprised with how much you two are getting real close, plus you've been smiling like some idiot."

You sighed, and tried ignoring you as you take down notes on what the teacher was discussing, but Miguel didn't like that since he kicked your feet under the table and you wince from the pain.

"You know it's rude to ignore someone who's talking to you."

You tried ignoring him again, and you succeeded since the bell started ringing.

You quickly got up, fixed your things, and followed the rest of the students out of the room, and as you went out, you already spotted Steven, who was fiddling with his shirt, waiting for you.

"Hey Steven!" You waved at him, and he waved back and started approaching you, but before he could reach you, somebody blocked his path.

None other Miguel.

"Y/N, you left your pen." You looked up annoyed to Miguel but he was right.

In front of you is a pen you probably dropped when you were fixing your things.

"Oh uh...Thanks?" You tried reaching for it, but Miguel quickly put it out of reach.

"Ah ah ah, you know the magic word"

You tried retorting but Steven intervened

"Y/N! let's uh...let's go, we can get another pen, and uh- Ha-have a nice day mate" Steven said to Miguel while dragging you by the hand to go to the cafeteria and you blushed at the skin contact and once again left Miguel to seeth at the interaction.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

As school continues you and Steven sadly didn't get to see each other as much as you like, but you can't blame him afterall, Exams are starting up and taking a toll on you and everybody else.

For all these months you and Steven were nothing but best friends and you couldn't even comprehend how happy you feel despite how much Miguel tortures you.

Speaking about Miguel, it seems like exams are also taking a toll on him since he lessened a bit on bullying you. He may be an arrogant and rich kid, but he knows hard work when he sees one.

Right now, you were in the library, studying over notes, writing additional words, and reading out lessons.

You suddenly hear a chair being pulled next to you, you turned to your side expecting to see Steven but instead you got Miguel who proudly set down a stack of books and pencils and sat down next to you.

"Wow, you look terrible." Miguel noted monotonously. "Anyway, I notice you took notes during classes, mind if I copy from them?"

"If I let you copy from them, would that you leave faster?" you retorted

Miguel chuckled, trying to avoid his twitching hand, begging to punch the attitude out of you.

"Little Y/N growing a backbone now, huh? Be thankful I didn't sell your panties to some hobo on the street or a perv in this school."

Never mind the perverts in this school, He's one of them!

....What

He still has it?!

Before you could ask about it, Miguel snatched the notebook closest to him, the strength almost ripping a page out.

"Wha- Hey!" you tried grabbing it back but Miguel is always too quick for you.

"Can you stop your attitude for a while? I'm surprised that Steven guy even tolerates you."

"Can you stop dragging Steven down? He's a great guy, so much better than you." You retorted, going back to your notes, ignoring the way he stares you down.

Miguel started to write down his own notes, copying yours.

"You know, after exam week, prom is gonna commence soon"

You know where this is going.

"I know what you said during the cafe before, but I think we're in a better place now yea?"

Better place???????

For all you care he's gotten worse since high school.

"So what do you think, hermosa? Don't worry bout transpo, I got it cov-"

"No"

Miguel pauses for awhile, his hands gripping the edge of the table.

No? You're saying no to the man where girls would beg on their knees to go out with.

You either really grew a backbone or your brain disintegrated away.

Miguel covers his shock with chuckling it off.

"Fine then, lost your chance. With that attitude, I don't really expect anyone to ask you out, You better be thankful I took the time to do it"

Miguel rambled on. At first, it was annoying, but then you thought, doesn't this guy have a girlfriend of something?

Then you also remembered the women he went out with only became people who can warm his bed and his cock.

No wonder you saw the club president girl crying over him last week.

You ignored him for quite some time, and the two of you got busy with writing, copying notes, and reading.

Until he breaks the silence again.

"If you can't go with me to prom at least go to the party im hosting after exams"

Oh hell naw

You know your morals and codes.

And your morals and codes tell you that a party with Miguel O'Hara is a no-no.

"Miguel I-"

"Say "no" one more time, and Steven gets it." Migeul threatened you while still looking down at his book, and you froze, knowing what Miguel is capable of under his influence and popularity, he could either.

1. With his physique, he could beat up Steven or with his bunch of friends who would jump off a cliff for him

2. With his influence, he could blackmail him or spread rumours about him, with his popularity that rumour is gonna last long enough to break him down.

3. With his money, he could bribe someone to hack into the grades of students and fail Steven.

All three scare you

Miguel scares you

You didn't know what to do, If you reject him, Steven is gonna get hurt from it, If you don't then there's a possibilty that you could get hurt from it, and you know that no one will defend you cus everyone wants to get on Miguel's good side.

To hell with it.

Steven is the only guy you could rely and trust on in this wretched place, and if he got hurt, you don't know what you'll do to your life anymore.

Miguel glanced at you, watching you rack your brain out, and he can admit it's cute the way your eyebrows furrowed, the way your lips turn into a slight frown, the way you think you could say "no" to him.

"Fine.....I'll go..." you let out defeatedly

"See? Isn't that easy? I knew you had a brain in there somewhere. Well, see you soon Y/N" With that he ruffled your hair, and then he placed your notebook by your side and left you sitting there.

Dreading on what's to come.

[drunkenkissesatdusk]

Can u maybe do like a Damian wayne x reader where they're friends and all but sometimes they (reader) tends to zone out a lot and think abt a lot of deep ish things that cause her to make weird faces without even realizing? Like she's much more quieter than usual and when he turns to look at her, he sees that she's visibly very upset but for seemingly no reason.

Oh, and if u want angst, maybe the specific thing she's thinking abt has something to do with him so she's really annoyed and snappy when he asks her what's wrong? Like she's be thinking abt how rude guys in their school are and then it kinda reminds her of Damian. Idk🙈🙉

(*ˊᗜˋ*)ᵗᑋᵃᐢᵏ ᵞᵒᵘ

am i good at angst? no… will i try? absolutely.

NOT YOUR FAULT.

pairings — damian wayne - al ghul x reader (platonic)

warnings — i tried to write angst but gave up, that’s all (and the ending sucks that’s not my fault (it is))

summary — pretty much what the request is gangsters

notes — i don’t know how to write angst 😞

━━━━━━━ YOU SHOULD’VE SEEN THE SIGNS before it was too late. you were sleeping more, food was suddenly too plain, you were easy to irritate, and you felt like you couldn’t do anything.

but, of course, you hadn’t understood when they began, you just blamed it on stress, since you had tons of tests coming up that you were relentlessly studying.

at some point, your grades had started slipping, and your teachers didn’t miss that. you were forgetting to turn in assignments, and whenever you suddenly couldn’t sleep the night before, you started falling asleep in class.

multiple teachers had brought it up after class with you, and you were able to come up with excuse after excuse.

eventually, Damian noticed. Damian, one of the only kids who didn’t ignore you this year, your first year of high school. but, obviously, that wasn’t always the case. Damian had originally been mean, tormenting you alongside all his other friends.

Damian only noticed because of your lack of emotions throughout the time you’d spend with him. on top of that, said time was clearly dwindling.

“hey, hey.” Damian called after you, catching up soon after and walking with you outside, far enough away from other kids so that the two of you could talk without anyone being nosy.

“what’s going on? you’ve been acting weird the past few days.” Damian’s face was clearly concerned, which irritated you further.

sure, you’d been quieter recently, and you almost always had a sour look on your face, but why would he bring it up?

“nothing, im fine.” you defensively crossed your arms over your chest — also doing so for a little bit of extra comfort as Damian seemed to be interrogating you.

“bullshit. talk to me, i’m your friend.” Damian stared at you, face full of worry.

“nothing.” you reiterated, “i said i’m fine, Damian. i’m fine.” you put emphasis on your words.

“you’re not a good liar.” he stated.

“like you even care.” you scoffed, turning on your heel and walking away. you found semblance in the school library, in the back of the room where you doubted anyone would go looking for you in.

with the silence of the room suddenly hitting you, your guard was up and your eyes were relentlessly looking around.

you probably looked angry. if anyone were to look at you, they’d probably think you were pissed off. were you? yeah, probably. why were you mad? you had no clue.

inhaling carefully, you felt your body begin to unwind, your heart rate slowly slowed.

guilt and regret flooded your system. you could then remember the way you’d treated Damian.

he was truthfully your only friend, he hadn’t deserved that.

i’m sorry, you sent the message. i didn’t mean to be so rude, you sent afterwards. he read the messages almost instantly.

it’s fine, not ur fault, he sent back.

sleepover at mine? you asked him, gathering yourself again before making your way to your next class. he agreed, and the day went on swimmingly.

the sleepover was practically the same, nothing bad happened, and it was easier to talk about it with him.

masterlist — reminder that asks / requests are open!!

[jlheon]

୨ৎ — sunny day (sjy)

pairing. fake bf & best friend! sim jaeyun x fem! reader genre. angst wc. 1380 notes. i'm sorry jake sucks here it's jover guys library.

🗯️ etxra peng note. hai this is for @okwonyo's celestial ballet event! guys i don't think this is my best work but i love jake & bea so i had to pick this song!! this might just be word vomit ヽ(´ー｀)

synopsis. you’re sick of the lines of jake and your fake relationship are too blurred

last night you had yet another fight with jake.

jake is your boyfriend, to everyone around you. but behind closed doors, he is nothing but your fake boyfriend. 

he asked you to do him a favor, you owed him after he helped you pass your physics final, but you didn’t think it would involve being dragged along to parties his rich parents hosted.

you both were just now graduating high school and would go your separate ways for college. which in theory sounds good for your lie, the fake relationship could end due to ‘long distance’, but it was not good for your heart.

in the past semester, you fell hard for sim jaeyun.

there was no turning back, you were in too deep. 

he was so sweet to you, in front of others, and behind closed doors. 

though, obviously you both respected each other's boundaries since your relationship wasn’t real. that was until a couple weeks ago.

jake had kissed you when he was drunk and so were you. it was a pretty heated kiss but it didn’t go any further.

unfortunately for you, you still woke up next to him in his room the morning after. 

“you’re awake,” jake breaks the silence, sitting up against his headboard. 

“i am,” you sit up next to him, rubbing your eyes. “did something happen last night?”

“um,” jake clears his throat. “jay said we kissed.”

“what?” you look at him with wide eyes. “like a lot?”

“apparently…” jake says, looking at the photo of sunghoon with you two in the background. it’s barely visible but you can see jake caging you against the wall.

“well, that’s the first and the last time,” you brush it off, stepping onto the floor.

“yup,” jake scratches the back of his neck. “let's go get breakfast.”

that wasn’t the last time. not at all.

since then you have kissed jake a total of ten times. yes, you counted. having taken note of each one and writing about what it felt like in a locked note. 

it was weird to kiss jake, but not in a weird way like you opposed it. admittedly still weird since there was no need for you to kiss. it wasn’t like the cliché movies where your friends would pressure you to kiss to prove your relationship. you even kissed when it was just you and him. 

it was rather pointless but you couldn’t help but wish he would do it every time you were together. which he did up until a couple of weeks ago.

when you two were casually sitting around you got fed up with how the lines of your strictly fake relationship were blurring. it’s not like you didn’t want to be physically affectionate with him you’ve done it all your life, but the kissing was way too much. going way over the walls of your friendship and confusing you. 

when you brought it up to him, asking what you two were even doing anymore, he lashed out. saying that he’s sorry for making you confused but something along the lines of ‘kissing you makes me less stressed’. 

then why doesn’t he just get a real girlfriend then?

though you knew if he were to stage the fake break up with you and move onto another girl you would rip your hair out at the sight. 

it was not the last time you two got into an argument.

you laid your heart out in front of jake. telling him that kissing and physical affection aren’t a what fake couples do. you were basically a real couple at this point.

he did not like it when you brought it up.

“it’s all fake ____,” he told you with his sickeningly sweet honey voice. “stop letting it get to your head.” he ruffled your hair.

at the end of each argument, you always end up in his arms. 

no matter how confusing and short-tempered jake is he never wants to be the reason you’re upset. 

today was different though.

“get out,” you tell him, eyes glued to the floor. 

“excuse me?” jake scoffs.

“you heard me,” you raise your head and attempt to smoothen your voice. “i said get out, jake.”

“you’re being ridiculous ____,” jake shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“i’m not,” you retort, crossing your arms. “i’m sick of this. whatever we have going on.”

“you’re just going to throw away our ten years of friendship?” he seethes.

“i don’t think is just a friendship anymore, jae!” you yell in frustration, walking towards your bedroom window, and opening it to let the fresh air in. 

“how could it not be? nothing between us has changed!” jake argues, grabbing his hoodie and throwing it over his shoulders. 

“everything is different!-”

“nothing is different because this is all fake-”

“fuck off jae, you’re the one who kissed me,” you face the window and let the cool night air hit your cheeks. hoping the tears forming in your eyes would disappear. 

“it was a mistake ____,”  

“then why didn’t it stop after the first time?” you whisper, mostly to yourself but you hope he hears it too over the soft patter of the pouring rain. “just get out.”

you hear the rummaging around behind you of jake putting on his shoes. his shoulder harshly bumped against yours, as he exits through the window and into the dark and rainy summer night.

you don’t sleep at all.

in the morning you are mad at yourself. maybe he’s right, you’re too sensitive. he just kissed you, not confess his love for you. 

for the next day, you stay in your room under the covers. millions of notifications from your phone, all from none other than jake sim. 

you can’t deal with him right now, not today. maybe tomorrow, we’re okay.

while scrolling through your chats you’ve noticed that he only ever texts you at night. call in the morning when you wake. you can’t just give in to him easily no matter how bad you want to be back in his arms even if he acts like your lover one day and like he doesn’t need you the next.

he’s all you know, the only person you can one-hundred percent find comfort in. 

when you finally reach for your phone, sick of the constant vibrations, you press his contact. 

“____?” he answers in his softest voice, you break.

“i’m sorry for yesterday,” you speak, voice up an octave higher than normal. “don’t be mad at me please.” 

“i’m not mad at you,” jake pauses between his sentence and hesitates before his next word. “pretty.” that’s a new nickname.

the call abruptly ended. the shuffling from his side of the line subsided by the sounds of him ending the call. you’re so lazy to call him back, no energy to do anything but lay in your bed.

like clockwork jake’s familiar head of fluffy brown hair appears at your window. sliding it open as gently as possible and letting himself inside. 

you notice the bright sky behind him. the pretty wash of blue that differs from the storm the previous day. a sunny day.

neither of you speak as jake shakes off his sweater and shoes.

he approaches you on the bed, lifting your duvet and sliding into the vacant spot next to you, his spot. 

jake reaches out for you, arms wrapping around your waist as he moves you to settle atop his chest. resting your head in the crook of his neck and his hands in your hair. with your skin on mine again.

“you know i don’t mean it,” jake breaks the silence. “right?”

“mean what?” 

“when i kiss you,” he clarifies. “i didn’t mean for you to take it the wrong way. you’re a great girl ____, i just don’t think we’re right for each other. 

“that’s okay. i can’t imagine losing you because of a breakup,” you lie. you would take all the risks to be with jake sim for real if it meant being with him but that isn’t what your future holds. 

“so we’re good?” jake asks nervously.

“always,” you say, a smile on your face even though you know you should shut this down for your sanity. 

it’s easy if i pretend.

[pinkhelados]

Always You - Miguel O’Hara x Reader (Part one)

summary: You and Miguel have been friends since high school and throughout all of that, he’s loved you. Getting around to asking you out however? No.

contains: mutual pining, friends to lovers, mentions of insecurity on miguel’s part. NOT PROOFREADING

part one | part two

You and Miguel went to high school together, graduated together, roomed together during university, and throughout all of that, Miguel had loved you, his best friend. He remembered when you walked into his chemistry class Junior year of high school… Through his thick-rimmed glasses, he admired the sway of your hair and the light glinting of the black plastic headband on top of your head. His body tensed when you sat next to him, offering a charming smile that would have him whipped his for the rest of his life.

The teacher’s voice faded into meaningless noise in the background and he found himself only focusing on you you. Brown eyes watched as you silently took down notes, sketching doodles on the edges of your notebook whenever you’d get bored, nose scrunching slightly whenever you made a mistake. He knew better then to stare but you were just so magnetic. You turned to look at him. Crap

Miguel darted his eyes to look at his paper only to find his page void of any writing.

He’d been so enraptured by you that he forgot to copy down notes.

Flustered, his eyebrows furrowed but quickly shot up when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He glanced up at you expecting you to tear into him for his ogling but then he noticed you had slid your notebook next to his. He blinked but picked up his pencil and begin to copy down what was on your paper. “Thanks…” He mumbled, turning away to conceal the red on his tanned complexion.

Ever since that day, you were talking to him and he was delighted to listen. It started with you teasing him for ‘spacing off’ during class and then turned to conversations about music shared interests. The semester progressed he begun to hang out with you after school, silly conversations turning deep and personal. For the first time he felt like head a real friend, not just some random he talked to during robotics season. Thick and thin, you were there for him and when it was his turn to comfort you, he did in a heartbeat.

Senior year prom night, that stupid guy you’d been seeing ditched you last minute. You were sat on the edge of his bed sniffling into his shoulder. “Hey it’s okay, you’ll be fine,” He cooed into your ear, rubbing your back soothingly. If he weren’t so mousy, he would’ve kicked his ass. “God what was I thinking?! You told me he was a douche- Xina told me he was a douche- whyd I even go through with it?” You sobbed into his shoulder. Miguel already hated the guy for snatching you up and him breaking your heart like this only served to enrage him further. “I don’t know- you’ve always been kind of stubborn.” He joked. You wiped your eyes and smiled weakly, playfully hitting his shoulder. “Shut up, I know.”

Miguel laughed and silently held you up against him, careful to not extend any boundaries. “I don’t even have a date anymore and I already got the dress…” You said with sad eyes. An idea popped into your head. “Mig-”

“No.”

“Why not! I know you hate parties but it’s senior prom-”

“You know I don’t do well in social settings, (Y/N)”

“It’d make me feel better..”

That was all it took for his resolve to diminish. Miguel grunted but secretly, his heart was soaring. “Fine. Let me find a dress-shirt or something.”

He kept the picture in his wallet. Miguel would look at it whenever he needed a break from college work, you holding a peace sign over his head, blue lights making your dress glow and he just stood awkwardly doing his best to smile. As he walked to the campus library, he took out his wallet and just stared at the small Polaroid picture with a soft smile on his face. You’d changed and so had he.

Miguel opened the library door, sifting through the crowd of studying college students. A hand went up and discretely waved back and forth and Miguel walked towards it. “Hey,” you smiled. Miguel smiled back and set his bag down. “Hi.”

Miguel had grown taller since high-school- like- suspiciously tall. He went from being the small, nerdy guy to this 6’9 tank of a man in the span of three years. Freshman year of college, he didn’t look like this. Though- you liked it. Really liked it.

His arms were big- the crewneck just barely concealing the muscle of his arms and the broadness of his back. You’d been crushing on him since second year of college. It was odd- how quickly your view of him changed and this change brought on guilt. He was your best friend! You couldn’t feel that way about him though he certainly didn’t help. Friends would point out how nice to you he was, how easily he’d fold and howd he’d drop anything just to help you. All of that made your heart beat and yetYou never thought anything of it. You’d do the same. It was just something between friends, no? Miguel’s brown locks slicked back and his glasses sat on the tip of his hooked nose as he stared at you with those soft eyes of his. “Ready?”

Your cheeks flared when he reached over to touch your shoulder. “Yeah- yeah,” you nodded.

The sky faded into darkness when you finished studying with Miguel, it was chilly too as you walked through campus over to the dorm you shared. “Damn- it’s freezing,” you rubbed your hands together, breaths coming out in white clouds. Miguel laughed, casually taking your hands in his larger ones. His palms were like heaters- unusually warm. He leaned closer to you, the redness of his cheeks not going unnoticed. “Better?”

A blush came upon you face and you leaned on his shoulder. “Mhm, aren’t you cold?” Miguel just wore a sweater with a plaid scarf wrapped around his neck and a pair of gloves, gloves he always wore ever since last summer. He shook his head. “It doesn’t bother, we’re close to home either way so it’s not like we’ll be out for too long.” You nodded, mumbling a soft ‘true’ and kept walking with his masssive hands around yours.

Arriving home, you plopped onto the couch and leaned your head back. “I’m beat,” you mumbled, looking over at your best friend who was taking off his scarf.

God his back looked good from that angle- his waist too…

“Yeah- I’m gonna go to bed, actually,” Miguel yawned. You tilted your head. “Already? It’s only nine?” You said as he walked over to his room. “Gotta get my beauty sleep- I’m a busy guy,” he said sarcastically though there was some truth to his words. Miguel was a genetics genius so his classes were difficult, not to mention all the internships he had at various scientific facilities. “I think you’re plenty beautiful, tiger,” you snickered, he laughed too. “Gracias, mami.”

You turned back to the tv when you heard the soft click of his lock. Bored, you switched on the tv. It was all news about this masked vigilante- Spider-Man they called him. You’d been hearing about him a lot recently for the past four weeks. “Huh,” you said, and continued watching.

-

Miguel had changed into his suit soon after he left you to his own devices. The night hadn’t been too eventful, he prevented a couple robberies which he’d tracked with the help of Lyla- his AI.

“So-“ A yellow light emerged from Miguel’s wrist, illuminating his masked face. “You ever gonna tell your girlfriend about…” She waved her arms around. “This?” Miguel scoffed and looked away, thankful for the mask hiding his cheeks. “No- and she’s not my girlfriend.” Lyla laughed, her avatar flickering to her now lying on her stomach with her palms resting on her cheeks. “You can’t hide this from me, big guy. I monitor your heart rate and it always spikes up whenever you’re around her. Coincidence? I think the shock not!”

Miguel swatted the hologram which only flickered in response. The AI hummed in amusement, swinging her leg in deep thought. Miguel’s fangs barred underneath his mask but sheathed soon after. “That doesn’t mean anything,” He mumbled. Lyla rolled her eyes. “Well according to my tracking software- I’ve also picked up rises in temperature, clammy hands-!”

“Okay!” Miguel grunted. “Shock- I get it.” Lyla smiled triumphantly, flickering over to the top of his head where he gave it a little pat. “Lucky you, I have several algorithms that should be foolproof in asking her out!” That made Miguel laugh. His ai didn’t comprehend his deep insecurity and for some odd reason that was a little heartwarming to him. “Don’t overestimate me, Lyla. (Y/N), she’s- she’s way out of my league. I don’t wanna risk years of friendship because I can’t control my own feelings.” He sighed.

The hologram frowned. “Hey don’t say that,” Lyla hugged his head but all Miguel felt was the warm heat from the light and the pain in his chest. He took out his wallet and gazed into the senior prom night picture. “Shock, I looked like such a dork,” He laughed. You were still so beautiful, hell- you were even more beautiful now. Miguel swallowed, hope blooming in his chest. “What’re those foolproof plans of yours anyways?”

Lyla’s eyes lit up and she scoured her files. “Oh I am so glad you asked.”

[spider-man-199999]

Paris to Tokyo

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+; academic rivals to lovers

word count: 5K

warnings: smut; slight angst; unpotected sex

summary: You start your new life at college, expecting it to be the most exciting time of your life, only to be met with Peter Parker, who decided to dedicate his free time to making your life a living hell

a/n: I've been dying to write an enemies to lovers type of fic, it's also my first time writing anything with suggestive content in it, so bear with me please. The heading is the most random thing I could come up with I'm sorry

College was the place you were looking forward to the most since you graduated high school. It was supposed to be a place where you met people with similar interest, went out with them to have fun and engage in intellectual converstaions. And it was exactly like that, for the most part. Growing up as a natuarally intelligent kid had you been putting little to no effort in school and always got you good grades. This quickly escalated into you trying a bit harder with each test and striving for more academic validation. At some point you even managed to become the best student in your class. But sitting hours on end on a desk and studying was still something very foreign to you. Sure, you would revise from time to time on topics that were harder to remember or things you couldn't recall from class, but it never went further than that. And maybe a degree in Biophysic was not the wisest idea given that backgroung. So, when college came around and you started the new classes on topics your common knowledge could barely help you keep up with, things went downhill very fast. For the first time you were faced with faliure, hard work and putting hours on end to study. It felt like everyone around you was more knowledgeable, more prepared, more educated on literally any topic that was discussed in and outside of class. Being at the bottom of the academic foodchain was mildy infuriating, to say the least.

And after the first few months of sleepless nights, filling up all of the holes so you could catch up to speed, you finally did it, and it felt more rewarding than anything else. This assisted you into making casual conversations with so many people from your different classes, one of them even inviting you to a study group that had been going on for months. You happily agreed to that idea, thinking it would be the best way to keep up with everyone in the class, not only academically but socically as well.

The day of the study group finally arrived on what seemed like the most normal, yet the most exciting Tuesday. They added you to a groupchat, everyone texting back and forth until all of you had agreed to go grab a coffee before heading to the library. You had tried your best to look presentable for this study date, putting on some white wide-leg dress pants and a neat navy blue t-shit that hugged your body very well. You hair was in a sleek bun, having a white buttonup because the weather was slightly chilly. Almost everyone had arrived there on time, which took you by surprise since you were used to being the only one being on time. After the cheerful greeting and formally learning everyone's names, you went inside and grabbed a coffee, returning to them promptly. You stood by the door, since the group had formed a circle around the entrance of the small shop.

"Was I the last one?" You asked concerned, looking around and counting the people.

"Actually, we're waiting for Peter" Someone said, everyone giggling softly and shaking their head.

"Who's Peter?" You asked, and as soon as you did, you felt something push againt your shoulder, sending you a step forward so you wouldn't come crashing down from losing your balance.

"I'M SO SORRY" you heard from behind you, turning around to see a boy with a worried expression on his face, paper cup in his hand. He was handsome, hair pushed back, warm eyes and nervous smile, leather jacked over a black t-shirt.

"That's Peter" someone stated, pulling you out of your trance. Peter chuckled, moving past you and motioning for everyone to go, since he was the one you all had been waiting for.

On the walk there you kept staring at the back of Peter's head, annoyed that he pushed you with the door, frusrated because he didn't even bother to introduce himself to you. Not that he really had to, you already knew well enough who he was. The guy who always came in rushing because he was late, somehow still managed to sit directly in front of you, blocking your view, no matter where you sat. He was the guy that would beat you to every question, the one who would always have the best grade on the tests. He leaned way too back in his seat, back pressed to your desk, pushing it, as you would try to keep up with writing everything down. And he would always ask you for a pen, every single time.

The study room was spacious and bright, it had a big round table for everyone to sit at, as well as two whiteboards and plenty or outlests for chargers and what not. It looked like the perfect place to study with a large group, excluding the fact Peter was there as well. You all took random seats around the table, Parker sitting across from you, almost as if it were on purpose. You held back an eye roll when he smiled at you cockily, making you look away and take out your laptop and notebook from your bag. The screen managed to block out most of Peter's face if you sink into your seat low enough. The conversation in the room flowed naturally, it was so interesting and engaging and you were having a blast speaking to these people. Soon enough all of you had solved the first homework questions, you quickly grabbing a pen and writing it down in your notebook. As you were in the middle of writing, an outside force closed your laptop. Your eyes looked at the laptop, seeing a pale male hand, fingers spread. You stared at it for a few seconds, noticing how pretty the hand actually was, long and straight fingers, follwed by a slim wrist and a muscular forearm. Your gaze trailed the hand up to Peter's face, looking into his eyes with annoyance already.

"Hey, do you-" before he even managed to finished his sentence, you had taken out a pen from your pencil case and placed it on your laptop, next to his hand.

"Thank you" he muttered, you not even looking back at him. This routine, as much as it was annoying, gave you some kind of comfort as well.

"How come you never have a pen with you?" You asked after a while, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"Oh, well actually I do have one, it's easier to just use yours"

''Unbelieveble"

"Come on, like you would ever need a second pen for anything"

You hovered over the table and grabbed the pen from his hand in a swift motion, he looked a bit taken a back, as well as the few people following your interaction.

"Actually, I need it now" you said, putting the one you were using away and continuing your writing with the one you just got back from him.

"You're being unbelieveble now" He said slightly irritated, reaching to get his won pen from his backpack.

"The two of you, cut it out, you're acting like children!" someone shushed you, making you blush when you realised it wasn't just you and the curly-haired boy in the room.

You gulped softly, mummbling a sorry to everyone as you kept writing down.

"Us cut it out? She was the one acting like a child, making a big deal out of a pen!" Peter whined and complained, starting to write down things in his notebook after he got a few angry glares from other people.

Around the time the group got to the third and final question for the homework you were feeling confident enough to try to contribute to the assignment.

"So you're basically saying that principle of hemodialysis is the same as other methods of dialysis - it involves diffusion of solutes across a semipermeable membrane?" you asked, as you were brainstorming through the question.

"Oh come on, y/n, this is the easiest question so far!'' Peter said, leaning froward, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Ever since the pen situation, he's been worse than ever before, taking every opportunity to show of how much smarter he was, followed by a cocky smirk.

"Intermittent dialysis therapy is used in chronic uremia to re-establish body water solute concentrations that cannot be achieved by the natural organ. In this sense, the dialyzer becomes an artificial kidney and it is through the transport of substances by this device that chemical and biophysical control consistent with continued survival is achieved." He explained, solving the question for you.

"She had it figured out, you could have let her be" Someone you didn't remember the name of said to him, making Peter's head turn in that direction.

"She obviously didn't, keep in mind her highest grade is my lowest" He snapped back.

You could feel the tension in the atmosphere thicken with each second, things were about to escalate very quickly. His words stung a bit and you felt something like a ball stuck in your throat after he said them. He didn't know how much work you had put in and he was incosiderate enough to just assume the worst of you. Before things managed to get any further, or worse, out of control, you slammed your thick notebook shut.

"Since Peter was kind enough to solve the last question, I think I'm going to call it a night" you said, fighting back the tears. Your voice gave you away as it wa slightly shaky, earning a few sympatheric looks.

You shoved your things in the bag as quickly as you as possible and walked out, trying to get as far away as possible. You were trying not to break down the whole walk back to your dorm, bitting your lip, brushing away some stray tears that ran down your cheeks with your sleeve. You were mentally blaming yourself for everything, for not walking fast enough, for not knowing enough, for deciding to join the study group, for even deciding on this degree to begin with. By the time you made it to your room, your phone was already blown up by text messages from Natalie, the person who originally invited you. She was a small blonde, blue-eyed beauty that was just as smart as she was pretty. You could bet on your own life that she was class president and the prom queen in high school. She was more than kind to you this whole time and her text messages suggested that she was worried about you too. With a quick click you deleted all the messages from your notification centre and threw the phone on your bed, followed by your bag. Hot tears ran down your face, breathing heavily as you were preactically sobbing at this point. You sat down on the floor, not being able to hold in the frustrstion anymore as you finally broke down, letting all of the shame, pain and anger flow out of your system through your tears.

A couple of hours had gone by, your tears were dried up on your face and neck as you lay on the floor and stared at the ceiling. Your phone kept buzzing from time to time and you finally gathered the emotional strenght to reply to the messages. Sitting on the bed, you unlocked the device and scrolled through the unred chats. The groupchat had sent the written solutions for the questions. Natalie had probably sent you 20 messages apologising and asking if you were okay. The guy who defended you had also sent you a message. His name was Brad and he looked like any normal person did. You texted him first, thanking him for standing up for you even though he did not need to do that. After him it was Natalie, who called you immediately after you hit send to reply to her first message. You picked up hesitantly, since you knew your voice was definitely going to sound like you had been crying.

"I am so sorry for everything! If I knew you and Peter were on bad terms I wouldn't have done this to you" She immediately spat out

"It's okay, I we aren't on bad terms, well... weren't"

"Have you been crying?"

"No..."

"I'm really sorry! I spoke to him after the whole thing, he's usually nothing like this! He himself couldn't explain why he acted like this"

"Nat, I really, really don't care"

"He said he wanted to make it up to you! He asked me himself for your number and your dorm room!"

"Please tell me you didn't give him any of that information"

"Well..."

"Oh my god now he knows where I live" you whined, bringing your knees up to your chest and hugging them.

"He wanted to apologise! He looked very sincere and worried"

"Yes, all the psychopaths do, that's why they're so hard to recognize!"

"I'm sure he wouldn't just show up at your door trying to make amends, you'll be fine, plus he's a really cool dude, give him a chance to prove he's not an asshole"

"He had his chance, it was today"

After you two said your goodbyes and hung up, you deicided it was finally time to take a relaxing shower. As you walked out, you heard a knock on your door. Still wrapped in a towel, one hand holding it in place, you opened the door to a Peter Parker, leaning on the doorframe. You blinked a few times rapidly, trying to process what you were seeing.

"Why are you here?" You asked, after carefully calculating your tone and your words

"You weren't picking up your phone" he replied, trying to step a foot inside. You blocked his action with the door.

"I didn't say you could come in"

"Can I come in then?"

"No, good night Parker" With that you tried closing the door on him but he grabbed it, not letting you close it.

"Look, I'm here to apologise for what I said earlier. You don't have to forgive me"

"And I don't, go Peter"

He looked shatter at your words looking into his brown eyes, you almost felt sympathy for him, like he really did feel sorry about what he did. Despite that, you kept your composure, looking at him with all the resentmet you had for him, a sigh leaving his lips as he let go of the door. He didn't need superpowers to know he fucked up, so he left. And you on the other hand, were more devistated than before, but your ego was bruised and your self-esteem ruined. The only person, no matter how annoying, you didn't want to think less of you, thought less of you. Yes, it was good that he wanted to apologise but this was not going to undo his words and the image he obviously had. You didn't even know if the apology really was his idea or was forced on him by the others in the group. You shook you head, dismissing the thoughts as you got ready to sleep. Sleep always helped with heavy emotions and you hoped you would feel better in the morning.

A few weeks went by and you still refused to forgive Peter for what he said. In your heart, you knew he was really sorry at this point but you enjoyed his suffering as you roasted him slowly on low heat. He tried all the cliché ways, buying flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals, buying you coffee before every study date. Your neighbours were convinced that the two of you were dating and would always ask about him when you gathered in one of the rooms to eat together or drink. You denied that but they rolled their eyes and never believed. In the mean time Brad tried to get closer to you, even inviting you on a date. You accepted hesitantly, since your heart seemed to be someplace else, liking all of the effort and attention from Parker more than it should. You told Natalie about the date, the two of you had become very close, spending a lot of time together, which often resulted in Brad and Peter tagging along. To say the boys were not getting along would be an understatement. Eyes throwing daggers at each other with every glance, snarky, rude comments were exchanged back and forth. But when you told the pretty blonde about Brad, she was more than excited about it finally happening . She would go on and on about how she knew he liked you ever since the first study session you had together and how he had a very heated fight with Peter after you left. You were grateful for him and what he did, and somehow it still felt wrong to be going out with him.

The night of the date had arrived and you were almost ready, putting in your earrings as you heard a knock on your door. You took a quick look in the full lenght mirror, fixing the long black dress you were wearing. It had a long slit on the left side, exposing your leg, no sleeves and a turtle neck. You had tied your hair in a ponytail, so your light make up would be more visible in the muffled evening lights of wherever he was planning to take you. You opened the door, still not wearing your chunky leather boots but just stockings.

"I thought we were going to meet in front of the library" you said as you opened the door but to your sursprise, someone else was standing there.

"You're not going on that date" Peter said firmly, almost as a command

"You're the last person that's going to tell me what to do" You snapped back at him "Why are you here Parker?"

He walked inside, closing the door behind himself. Peter seemed slightly distressed, looking you up and down with a dark expression.

"Do you really hate me that much?" he asked, leaning his back against the door, his arms behind him as he looked down at his feet. "Or do you just want to hurt me by going out with the guy I like least? Like really? All the guys are in your feet and you decide to go out with Brad, and look as gorgeous as this."

You could hear the annoyance and sadness in his voice, a bit taken a back from all of the things he just said to you. He just loved doing that, didn't he? Saying the most obnoxious things to make you feel bad about yourself.

"Wait, what?" was all you managed to say, taking a few steps back until your butt pressed agains your desk, making you stop. Books and make up palletes were scattred on it. Peter looked up at you, smiling weakly.

"I've liked you, this whole time" he confessed, staring directly into your eyes "Please, don't go on that date"

"Make me" you said faintly, surprised by how you almost whispered it. There was no way he could have heard that. But somehow he did, taking a few rapid steps towards and wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I'll make you forget everyone else but me" he whispered in your ear.

Feeling his hot breath near your face made your heart beat faster, one of your hands resting against his upper arm, looking up into his eyes. You were having a hard time processing what was actually happening, a sudden fear it was one of his games to make fun of you. You tried pushing him away after the realization, but his grip on your waist tightened.

"I'm serious, y/n" he said "I've liked you since I saw you, and I would make everyone sit away from you so I could be near, I would ask you for a pen so I could talk to you. And I tried to show off because I wanted to impress you, I wanted you to think I'm smarter so you could ask me for help in class."

For some reason you believed him, nodding lightly to let him know that. He lifted you up with one arm, sitting you on top of the desk. You were having a hard time vocalizing what you were feeling but you didn't want him to feel awkward because of your silence. Your arms wrapped around his neck, his hand falling on your exposed leg. You looked down at where his hand was, your skin burning with desire to be touched by him more. Your eyes met his again, his filled with hopefullness and lust. He got closer, titling his head to the side and he kissed you softly and sweetly. You returned the kiss, hands cupping his face and bringing him closer to you. Peter deepened the kiss, turning it in a heated make out session as one of his hands romed around your leg, going up your dress so he could touch more of you and the other one placed on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. You spread your legs, pulling him by the belt so he could position himself between them, your hands going to his hair and playing with his messy curls as your lips and tongues danced against each other. After what seemed like a forever of heated, hungry kisses and filty touching, you broke the kiss so you could catch your breath. You panted havily, chest rising up and down rapidly. Peter pressed his forehead against yours, both of you closing your eyes to collect yourselves.

"Should I at lest text Brad and tell him I'm not going?"

"Well, there goes my hard on"

You hit his chest lightly, both of you giggling at his stupid joke. He looked around, noticing your phone that was charging on the bed, moving away from you to grab it and hand it to you. You unlocked the phone trying to find your chat with Brad while Peter found his previous position, viciously attacking your jaw and neck with kisses. You tried your best to be concentrated and write a normal message, but made a few spelling mistakes nonetheless. Peter nibbled on your neck, which earned him a slight flinch from your side.

“Peter, please, we’re not 16, no hikeys”

He ignored your words, continuing his act the way he had planned it, kissing, licking and sucking on your soft skin while you begged him to stop. His hands were all over your body once again, touching everything that was exposed to him, one hand travelling further up your leg than before, almost landing on your ass but hesitantly stopping. You noticed his uncertainly, pressing your cheek against his so you could whisper in his ear.

“Don’t stop now, Peter” you breathed in his ear, your own hands exploring his body.

He didn’t waste a second after that, grabbing your butt in his hand and pressing his lips against yours. Your hands moved under his shirt, touching his toned stomach. Your were quite shocked to what your fingertips were pressed up against, not expecting him to be as muscular as he actually was. You knew he worked out because you had seen his toned arms in a t-shirt too many times for your own good, but you were definitely not expecting that. Hands quickly slipped him out of his jacket, reaching to pull up his shirt in the heat of the moment but he stopped you, moving slightly away. Your lipstick was smudged all over his mouth and it made you giggle.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked you, his hands finding their way back to your waist. You nodded, undeniably longing for him and his touch, his presence.

“Good, because if we keep this up any longer, I probably won’t be able to hold back” Peter muttered, removing his shirt and tossing it on the floor before he pulled you in again, kissing you.

You took that as a signal that you had to get undressed as well, reaching for the hem of your dress pulling it up. He grabbed your hands when he noticed the act, stopping you from doing what you had planned so he could do it himself. Suddenly you felt the cold air from the room against your skin, along with Peter's warm hands, making you shiver. You undid his belt, helping him pull his pants down, breaking your kiss in the process. You laughed soflty at how he was jumping on one leg while he was trying to kick his pants off, shaking your head.

"What?" He asked

"Nothing, nothing, I'm really missing a date right now for you jumping on one leg to get out of your pants" you bursted out laughing, him joining you shortly after.

"No, it's going to get so much better, trust me" He stated, grabbing you and lifting you up, throwing you on the bed. You squeaked softly from his actions, not expecting it. Soon enough he had your hands pinned down with his, hovering over you. A soft gulp at the sight from you made him chuckle, kissing on your neck once again. He had already left a mark there, starting to suck on a second spot next it.

"Peter really! It's going to be so hard to cover them up" you whined, secretly enjoying his lips and teeth on your skin like this.

He looked at your face, smiling viciously at you.

"I just want people to know you had a good time"

"Yeah, with Brad? I was suppsed to be on a date with him" you teased him, chuckling softly. His expression changed suddenly, he seemed almost angry. His hands let go of your wrists, travelling down your skin as he reached the hem of your panties. His fingers played with the hem of them before slipping in under the thin fabric, the middle finger going between your folds. He could feel how wet you actually were, making him smirk with that cocky smile he had, looking into your eyes. You were holding back a small moan from his touch, looking at his pretty face.

"Can Brad make you this wet baby?" He asked.

You shook your head no, keeping eye contact with him. His middle finger started moving up and down tesing your clit before entering you slowly. This time you couldn't hold back and you moaned, closing your eyes. His smile remained present as he insedted a second finger inside of you, starting to move his hand teasingly slow. Your body squirming underneath him, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, rocking his hips against your leg while he fingered you. You could feel his erection through his boxers, making you even more needy than you already were.

"Parker" you moaned out softly, remembering your hands were actually free and you could move them, immediately attaching to his shoulders, which was the closest body part besides his head. He looked up at you after you called out for him, grabbing your face with his hand and kissing you.

"Peter" you moaned again against his lips, feeling his skin shiver from that. I never considered what effect you actually had on him. "Please, I want to feel you."

After you begged him, he wasted no time pulling your panties down, unressing himself as well. His arms spread your legs forcefully, positioning himself between them. You didn't really manage to follow everything he was doing because you were too eager yourself, pushing up against him in hopes to speed up the process. He pinned you down by the waist, shaking his head in disapproval at your actions. Peter didn't like it when you disobeyed him, even though it was the only thing you were good at doing. He lined himself up to you, teasing you lightly with his tip as a warning before he inserter himself inside, both of you moaning from the act. You felt something like actual electricity when he did that, making you breath heavy from the ecstacy. His hips moved rythmically, along with yours. He was still holding you by the waist, standing on his knees while he fucked into you. You moved your leg up on his shoulder, making him smile and kiss it, one of his hands running up and down it while both of you looked into echother's eyes. You enjoyed the view, so much, his naked toned body, his messy hair, that gorgeous face, your leg on his shoulder while he moved. It was hypnotysing, breathtaking, made your legs shake alone. He could feel you tighthen up around him, making him laugh softly.

"So soon?" he asked, noticing how you started squrming more than in the beginning, legs shaking from time to time, moans becoming more freaquent

"Peter, I'm really close" you managed to say, hands gripping on the sheets around you. His grip on your waist taightened as he went faster and deeper, making you whines more prominent than before. You walls started clenching around him, feeling yourself already starting to cum on him. He placed a hand on your lower stomach, applying slight pressure on it which really sent you over the edge, whole body shaking, heavy breathing and moaning uncontrolablly. He had to hold you down while you came, leaning forward and pecking your lips after you calmed down.

"I need a moment too" he whispered against your lips "Can you handle it for me?"

You nodded, letting him continue rocking his hips into you. You were covered in sweat and so was he, bodies pressed against eachother as he moaned softly in your ear, your legs wrapped around his waist to stop the shaking from the overstimulation.

"Peter" you mumbled against his ear ''I think you're really hot... like, way hotter than I expected''

"Fuck" he replied, pulling out of you and stroking his lenght a few times before he came on your stomach, both of you panting. He lay down next to you for a second, kissing your forehead and hugging you.

"You did so well" he praised you, starting to leave small butterfly kisses all over your face. You laughed softly, cuddling into him.

"We should go take a shower"

"Are you suggesting a second round in your shower?"

"No! Well... maybe, okay, yes"

He laughed at your reply, shaking his head.

[thesupreme316]

Heyyyyy I just came up with this but headcanons with the boys if their so is in college and has a bunch of missing work how and how they would deal with it (not like this is related to me rn totally DONT have have 20+ missing assignments that r do Thursday😮‍💨) if not that’s fine I just needing something to do so I felt like I was being productive cuz I don’t feel like doing work in my week off. Thought I’d submit ideas for writers so I’d be doing smt!

AEW STARS React to: Their S/O In College (and Taking Finals)

Pairings: Nick Wayne x Reader, Darius Martin x Reader, Hook x Reader, Dante Martin x Reader, Christian Cage x Reader, MJF x Reader, Eddie Kingston x Reader, Wheeler Yuta x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Supreme Speaks: hey yall, finals kicked my butt, but we back and packed up in here! to this lovely anon, i hope you got everything done and passed with flying colors (ik i struggled). but anyways, please remember that you are loved and appreciated, and also that you are more than a gpa.

Warnings: none i think, grammarly wasn't working so barely proofread, no gifs as tumblr don't wanna work rn

Taglist: @hooks-martin @sheinthatfandom @triscillal @cassie0sstuff @eddie-kingstons-wifey @hookerforhook @batzy-watzy @wwenhlimagines

i totally forgot to add my beautiful besties my bad

Nick Wayne

Hahaha He is the last person you should be going to for help

If anything, Nick believes that you should just leave it alone and just be in candy land with him

But he knows how hard it is for you and how important it is

So he’ll try his best to help you actually do the assignments

Like you two split up how much work you have and he does half the assignment

I think he would find it fun; pulling all nighters in the library and doing work with their S/O until like 4 am

Every night would be a new adventure

Would let you review the work before you submit it

But anything science-related

Don’t ask him shit

I see him as more of a math person

Darius Martin

I see Darius definitely as a liberal arts or literature person

Like he can edit your papers (he’s your personal chat gpt)

I think Darius would help you by creating a schedule

Like when you need to get stuff done by

BUT

He takes it a step further by allocating time limits for each assignment

Like you can only work on assignment 1 for an hour and 30 minutes each day

Something tells me he is particular with schedules

Darius will keep you on track as if he’s getting paid for it

“Y/N, your break ended 3 minutes ago. LETS GO”

Will definitely help you with researching topics cause that takes a while

Don’t ask him shit about math

Dante Martin

Doesn’t particularly understand what you are going through

But nonetheless he hates that he doesn’t see you as much anymore

I can see him just giving you gifts and words of encouragement

Will tutor you if you need help…but realize that this is not high school science

“You mean there is more than Chemistry I? CHEMISTRY VI? ORGANIC-“

He soon gives up

Stays up with you and drags you away from work if needed

IMAGINE DANTE SAYING “COME TO BED BABY” OMG MY HEART

Will help you with assignments like Nick

Will reward you for all your hard work (wink wink)

Tries to distract you and give you moments for fun/relaxation

After the dust is settled, he’s just happy that you are out of the shackles of academia and you two can hang out stress-free

Hook

MANS IS NOT BOTHERED WITH YOUR BULLSHIT

Has the constant “I told you to start on these assignments earlier” look on his face

If anything he will just supply you with food, energy drinks, and emotional support

But if you thing this man will give you any type of physical help

YOU ARE LYIN TO YOURSELF SWEETHEART

Will secretly complain about your lack of self care or wishing he could actually help in Italian

Fancanon: Hook can speak Italian

If he thinks you have been working too much

He will save your work and shut your laptop down

Will make sure you did everything on your checklist before turning the assignments in

If you need him to print stuff off, just ask, he’ll do it

Unless it’s 1 am…then he’s telling you to take your ass to sleep

Wheeler Yuta

Okay, this man can actually help you

WITH HIS CUTE ASS GLASSES

He truly understands what you are going through as he used to be in your shoes

Mans will tutor you until you are smarter than him

Loves helping you with history and shit

“No the War of 1812 didn’t happen in 1937”

Gives you helpful study and test-taking tips

Tries to make you drink healthy caffeinated drinks not Monsters or Red Bulls

Believes they are the devil and will slap them out of your hands

“What did I say? Red Bull gives you horns, not wings…no not horns for being horny”

Will give you little trinkets or treat you out to dinner when you complete your assignments/exams

He just wants you to remain healthy during this stressful time

Christian Cage

I feel like if anything Christian is a professor…with the way he be schooling those-

He’s probably very knowledge in various subjects

He just does them the old-fashioned way

“What the hell is this?…Whatcha mean this is the new way?”

But if anything he’ll adapt to it, just trying to help you

I HAVE A THEORY that he’ll stay up reading the next chapter or the directions for your next assignment and tries to figure out ways to make the process easier

So the next day you walk out to the table and you see the parts of your project laid out and labeled

“I know it’s a lot but we break it up like this, you should be able to complete by tomorrow”

Christian takes pictures of you two so he can look back and bring up times like the Vietnam war

Makes you take breaks, in which he’ll work in your place

When you get your grade back, it’s yalls grade

not yours

MJF

Straight up pays for a tutor/homework helper

But stays in the room and yells at them cause you are still confused and behind

I mean this in the nicest way

Max is no damn help

He is laughing at you while he’s putting on his scarf

“Imagine doing homework to get a little paper for a job! That’s what you get for not being born rich”

Will post you on instagram and claim that homework and exams are to test idiots

But will quickly change his tune when you place a physics worksheet in front of him

“WHY IS THE GREEK ALPHABET HERE?”

Issues you a public apology and vows to never make fun of you again

If anything MJF supplies you with emotional support, letting you know that your feelings are valid

Will buy you new shoes or something massive for surviving and passing everything

Eddie Kingston

Now when I say don’t ask him anything

DON’T ASK HIM ANYTHING! HE’LL JUST SAY

“Doll, imma be real, I have a GED. I dunno shit”

He can only laugh from afar and say “glad I don’t have to do that shit”

But if you ask him anything about English or Shakespeare, he got you

Will recite random Shakespeare quotes to provide entertainment

I think he proofreads your papers to ensure they make sense

I do think he can help with researching and giving you credible websites

Other than that, his designated role is paper weight or waterboy

He believes your every word when you groan about school

That’s all he can do but you don’t complain about it

After he loves you and you love him

[iseos]

: CHERISH

wc. 978 archive. pairing. nishimura riki x fm!r synopsis. imperfect chemistry genre. fluff now playing. cherish by ive

  HIGH SCHOOL WAS A CONFUSING TIME, and for niki, navigating the complexities of teenage emotions felt like solving a never-ending puzzle.

he had harbored secret feelings for y/n since they first met in their freshman year; but, expressing those emotions was an intricate challenge he was yet to conquer. instead, he often found himself acting rude towards her, which, to his dismay, she often returned.

  now with graduation quickly approaching, niki and y/n were still, to put it mildly, not on the best terms when it came to their interactions. from snarky comments in class to unintentional eye-rolls during group projects, their relationship was fraught with tension and misunderstanding.

  yet, underneath the façade of bickering and sarcasm, it was obvious to those around them that there was a connection waiting to be explored.

  it was just a question of when, or if, it would happen.

  having grown tired of watching niki push y/n further and further away with his ruthless teasing, all while in private hearing how hopelessly enamored he was for the girl, his friends convinced him to take a different approach. urging him to set aside his pride and initiate an open conversation with y/n, they hoped it would bridge the gap between the two teens and pave the way for a genuine friendship.

  niki found her in the library like he expected, and he couldn't help but notice the frustration etched across y/n's face. she seemed utterly absorbed in her book, scribbling down notes in a frenzy. despite approaching with good intentions, he couldn't resist the urge to interrupt.

  "working hard, i see," niki teased, leaning his hip against the table she was using.

  y/n looked up, her expression a mix of annoyance and weariness. "what do you want, niki? finally come to help with the assignment we were both supposed to work on?"

  niki hesitated for a moment, his confidence slipping as he briefly made eye contact with his friends, who were sitting at a table on the other side of the room as support, animatedly trying to encourage him with dramatic arm movements. realizing this was his chance to finally try and mend their tense relationship, he cleared his throat and decided to be more sincere for once.

  "look, i know sometimes i'm rude to you—"

  "sometimes is the understatement of the century," y/n interrupts monotonously, her eyes back on her notes as she continues to write.

  "—but i wanted to say i'm sorry for that. we have to work on this project together, and i want it to go smoothly."

  y/n looked up at the dark-haired boy with a raised eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her gaze. "you're apologizing?" she turned and looked around the relatively empty library, expecting this interaction to just be some cruel prank. she didn't even notice his friend group quickly busying themselves with random books.

  she eventually turned back to the boy standing in front of her again.

  "yeah, i am," niki nodded, his voice tinged with genuine sincerity. "i don't want us to keep arguing like this. i think we could actually make a pretty good team if we put our differences aside."

  y/n regarded him with curiosity, her guard slightly lowered now, "you really mean that?"

  "i do. i want us to work well together," he nodded again, his determination shining through, "i also need to get a good grade on this project so i don't fail this class..."

  his last comment made y/n scoff, however, there was a hint of laughter behind it as she pointed to the empty chair beside her for him to sit in.

  as they worked on the project together, niki and y/n slowly started to shed their defensive layers and engage in more meaningful conversations, some of which occasionally taking place outside the regular time they spent working in the library together. the arguments became less frequent, replaced by laughter and shared moments of understanding.

  their chemistry project became the turning point in their animosity-turned-newfound friendship. they spent hours working side by side, forming a deeper connection between discussing equations.

  y/n began to see the kind, thoughtful side of niki that she hadn't noticed before, and niki found himself admiring her intelligence and determination even more.

  one sunny afternoon, as they wrapped up the final parts of their project, niki couldn't help but steal a glance at y/n. her eyes sparkled as she explained a complex chemical reaction, and niki realized he couldn't keep his feelings hidden any longer. he cleared his throat, trying to sound as genuine as he could.

  "y/n, there's something i need to tell you."

  she turned to look at him, a hint of curiosity in her gaze as she hummed in acknowledgment.

niki hesitated for a moment, it felt like he flashed back to the day their friendship began to form; the weight of his unspoken words once again hanging in the air

  "i really like you, y/n. i have for a long time."

  y/n's eyes widened in surprise, and niki could see the mixture of shock and confusion dancing on her features. she didn't know how to react.

  niki cleared his throat once more, his heart feeling like it would pound out of his chest at any moment. "i know i was rude to you a lot — so i don't blame you if you don't feel the same, but i really do like you a lot."

  she remained silent for a moment, her gaze locked with his. then to niki's surprise, a smile crept across her face.

  "you're serious?"

  niki nodded, his vulnerability evident. "i am."

  y/n leaned in closer, face just inches from his, "you're the most confusing person i've ever met, niki, but maybe i like you too."

“although im selfish, i never lie you know, i really like you”

© iseos