#tomorrow is fine i just have basketball practice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aemondsbabe · 2 months

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Give Me an O!

summary: billy walks in on you in a bit of a compromising situation, and you finally go after what you want

pairing: billy hargrove x cheerleader!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is very flexible, minor injury it's fine, piv sex, unprotected sex oopsy daisy, public sex technically, hand over mouth, fingering, breast/nipple play if you blink, dirty talk, reader's hair is long enough that she can have a ponytail but no other physical descriptors are used, billy is a himbo, steve harrington cameo

word count: 5k

a/n: finally getting around to a request from @sweetshifter! thank you for the idea bby & i hope ya enjoy! also, my first time writing for stranger things! yay! images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @unwanted-animal

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🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Your best friend asks as she slings her gym bag over her shoulder, “I don’t mind staying a couple minutes.”

“Nah,” you shrug, still panting a little from practice as you lean to the side with a little sigh, stretching down toward your leg, “You go on, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“Alright, cool,” she chirps, glossy lips flicking up into that sincere, beaming smile that had become her signature, “Bye!” She calls over her shoulder as she turns, white tennis shoes thumping against the shiny wooden floor as your name echoes around the gym.

“Bye, Chrissy!” You reply with a smile, glancing up as the heavy metal doors at the side of the room click closed, leaving you alone for the time being.

With a tired huff, you check your watch, one that matched Chrissy’s exactly – gold with a baby pink face. You’d gotten them at the mall last summer, a joint birthday present.

4:34pm.

A sigh leaves your lips as you lunge forward, hands planted firmly on your hips as you try to ignore the slight burn in your thigh. So, that’s… like, forty-five minutes until basketball practice starts, you think, eyes pointed up at the white metal ceiling as you do mental math, trying to figure out exactly how long you’ll have to work on your stretches.

Deciding to give yourself a few more minutes before calling it a day, you breathe out steadily through your pursed lips as you switch sides and lunge forward again, savoring the light burn in your calf. After a fifteen second count, you move onto your hands and knees, needing to stretch out your back.

You hum softly under your breath, one hand planted firmly against the blue tumbling mat beneath you as the other reaches back and grabs onto one of your ankles, your limbs forming a graceful arch above you. A small grunt leaves you as you pull your leg up as high as you can, before dropping it down and reaching back with your other hand to do the other side. Mid-pose, you swear you hear one of the gym doors click open, the one out to the hallway with the locker rooms and various storage closets judging by the direction, but you’re so focused on holding your pose, you honestly can’t be sure.

Huffing, you decide to just ignore it – Probably just the janitor or something, you think, keeping your eyes focused, once again, on the white metal ceiling as you roll over onto your back.

Breathing steadily, you let your eyes slip closed as you press both legs together before slowly lifting them up, using your hands and elbows to support your back as you lift onto your shoulders. Wincing slightly at the twinge of pain from your left one, you work through it, trying to keep your breath steady. As your green and gold cheer skirt pools at your waist, you silently pray that if it is a janitor, that it’s at least not the creepy one.

Slowly but surely, you work both legs up and over your head until the tips of your white sneakers press into the mat, your arms planted firmly onto the floor for support.

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, you count silently, breathing a little shakily as you focus on balancing… and on ignoring your shoulder.

Suddenly, a loud wolf-whistle cuts through the silence of the gym, punctuated by a few slow claps and the heavy footsteps of someone walking across the wooden gym floor.

“Aah!” You squeak as you topple to the side, concentration thoroughly broken. Huffing, you prop yourself up on one elbow as your head snaps up, eyes already narrowed into an irritated glare. Upon seeing who it is, you can’t help but sneer.

“Can I help you, Hargrove?” You sigh, exasperated, rolling your eyes as you angle both legs out in a side split, determined to get through your stretches even with the added annoyance of Billy’s presence.

“Just admiring the view, princess,” he drawls, blue eyes trailing up the length of each of your spread legs in a way that makes your cheeks flush, “You’re real good at that, aren’t you?” He questions, plump lips quirked up into that signature, flirtatious smirk.

“Good at what?” You ask, brows furrowing as you bend over to the left, easily grasping the toe of your tennis shoe as the muscles in your legs stretch into a taut, familiar ache.

He chuckles at that, hands on his hips as he studies you, the spicy, woodsy smell of his cologne filling the space around you. He cocks his head to the side, pearly white teeth flashing every few seconds as he chews a piece of gum.

“Stretching,” he all but purrs, golden curls blowing slightly from the large fans that hum loudly on the ceiling. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he ogles at you, watching carefully as you bend to the right, “I bet it’d be really easy to just fold you up like a pretzel, huh, sweets?”

With a sigh, you finally let yourself relax for a moment and tilt your head up to look at the boy as you lean back on your hands, your ponytail swishing across your shoulder blades as you do.

“In your dreams, Billy,” you murmur, trying to keep the expression on your face plaid, wholly uninterested, which is easier said than done.

You don’t like Billy, and you’re very quick to correct anyone who says you do, even if it is just friendly teasing. But, well, there’s something about him that just draws people into his orbit – charisma combined with a certain mystique. You knew from talking to the girls in the locker room that he was a lady’s man, and a player, but from how they all talked about him, there appeared to be something more there, some hidden layer that no one had been able to crack yet. He’s different from the other boys in Hawkins, no small town charm to hide behind.

Plus, come on, he’s gorgeous. You might not be Billy’s biggest fan but you have eyes.

“Damn right, in my dreams,” he murmurs, pulling you from your thoughts as he draws out every syllable of your name in a low, husky tone, familiar smirk playing at his lips like always.

Cocking your head, you narrow your eyes as you peer up at him, “Aren’t you going out with Amber now?”

“Wouldn’t exactly call it going out…,” he answers as he bends down on one knee to retie the laces of his shoe, shooting you a little wink as he does so.

“Does Amber know that?”

He pauses at that, a little huff of laughter bubbling up from his chest as he fixes you with a grin that is much too self-satisfied for your liking. “Now, princess,” he starts slowly, blue eyes narrowing at you playfully as he rests a forearm across his knee, “Why do you care so much about what I’m doing with Amber?”

“She’s my friend, Billy,” you say, sitting up a little more, the chill from the AC units making the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end.

“So, it’s definitely not because you’re, I dunno, jealous or anything?”

“No!” You cringe inwardly as you say it, too quick and too defensive and just what the blue eyed boy had been hoping for, judging by the smug grin plastered on his face.

This is how it’s been between the two of you for months now, ever since his stupid Camaro had rumbled into the school’s parking lot way back in August. Since then, it’s been a whirlwind of teasing jokes, sitting through History class after History class as you feel those blue eyes practically boring a hole in the back of your head, and somehow mustering up the willpower to dodge his advances.

In the nearly three months since his arrival, Billy had managed to charm his way through at least a handful of girls, maybe more depending on which rumors you listen to, but you are determined not to fall for it, not to be just another notch on his bedpost.

Which would be a lot easier if he’d leave you the hell alone.

Flustered, you pull your knees up, tucking your chin over top of them as your arms wrap around your calves, silently rolling your eyes as Billy drops to the blue tumbling mat, rolling onto his back with a satisfied sigh, making it clear to you that he was here to stay.

“Why’re you here so early, anyway?” You question, glancing at your watch once more, “Basketball practice isn’t for, like, another half hour.”

“Had to drop my stupid step-sister off at some trash arcade,” he grunts, annoyed, “Didn’t wanna waste the gas to go all the way home, plus…,” he pauses, tilting his head to the side to slyly grin at you once more, “I figured I might get here early enough to catch the end of cheer practice.”

“Creep,” you scoff, much more playfully than you’d intended to.

The two of you fall into a, surprisingly, comfortable beat of silence. You let your eyes trail over Billy as his own droop shut, one arm propped behind his head as he lazes on the gym mat, jaw clenching every so often as he works the gum in his mouth. You start at his feet, taking in the faded black canvas material of his Converse before you let your eyes roam up his long, tanned, muscular legs. Finally, you reach the familiar dark green shade of his school-branded shorts and your eyes wander up the expanse of his stomach and chest, covered by the grey t-shirt he wears, the familiar eyes of Hawkins High’s tiger mascot staring blankly into your own.

You nearly gasp as your eyes trail up to his face again, only to find his steely eyes already looking at you, a knowing smirk etched into his face as you feel the apples of your cheeks flush.

“It’s rude to stare, princess,” Billy drawls, catching you red handed.

“And it’s not rude to perv on me stretching?”

“Never said it wasn’t,” he shrugs with a little chuckle, sitting up and resting one forearm on a bent knee. You merely roll your eyes as he studies you for a second, the blush on your cheeks deepening enough that you can feel the slight tingle of blood rushing under the surface.

“Whatever,” you sigh, shaking your head as you stretch your legs out in front of you again. You stretch forward again, letting out a breath as you grab at your ankles and try to ignore the way Billy sits up, propping his forearm up on a bent knee.

“Could you, like, put your legs behind your head and all that?”

“Probably,” you say with a little eye roll.

“Will you?”

“Not for you!”

The two of you carry on like that for a moment longer — you working through various stretches and familiar yoga poses as Billy seems overly curious about each one, questioning if you can twist into all kinds of poses.

“Can you do a handstand and do the splits?” He questions, grinning when you groan in frustration, eyes trailing up your long legs to the bottom of your short cheer skirt.

With a huff, you stand with one hand on your hip, the other pinching at the bridge of your nose as Billy’s incessant questions throw you off the silent count in your head again.

“Did you want something or are you just trying fuck me over?”

“Mmm, close, princess,” the blond teases, earning another glare from you. Playfully, he holds his hands up in surrender, “You’re single, aren’t you?” He asks, smirking triumphantly at the way you balk.

“I’m not talking about this with you, Hargrove.”

His smirk widens when you don’t deny it, blue eyes darkening as they travel over the length of your body once more. “Look, all I’m saying is that the guys talk in the locker room and… well, I can’t help but notice that your pretty name just doesn’t come up.”

“Maybe I have better things to do than put out for you assholes,” you smirk, quickly stretching out your problem shoulder before kneeling back on the tumbling mat, meaning to finish up with a couple quick pushups.

Undeterred, Billy merely matches your smirk with one of his own, watching as you kneel next to him. “Just come with me to Harrington’s Halloween party next weekend, sweetness,” he offers, his voice a low rumble, “Come on, a couple hours, some drinks. Hell, I’ll even dress up with you, whatever you want.”

“Hmm,” you hum, taking a second to tighten your ponytail as you shoot him a playful little smile, “Whatever I want, huh?”

“Name it,” he says lowly, watching appreciatively as you get on all fours.

“Okay, how about…,” you stall, drawing out your words as you extend your legs behind you, grunting softly as your shoulder zings with pain once more, “Willie and Indiana Jo– Ah!” You cut yourself off, exclaiming in pain as you land with a small thud on the mat, wincing.

“Whoa, hey,” Billy says softly, scrambling onto his knees, brows furrowed as he gingerly helps you roll over onto your back, “You okay?”

You nod, glancing away with a little embarrassed huff as you rub at your shoulder. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I just probably sprained it earlier during practice or something.”

“Lemme take a look at it,” he says, offering a hand to help you up.

Not expecting such chivalrous behavior from Hargrove of all people, you only nod dumbly and let him pull you up off the mat, chest heaving.

“Here,” he murmurs, gently nudging at your arm until you turn your back to him. You can hear the tumbling mat crinkle as he steps closer to you, the warmth from his chest practically radiating through his t-shirt as the spicy musk of his cologne seems to envelope you once again.

“You better not be using this as an excuse to feel me up,” you warn, albeit playfully, pulling your ponytail over the opposite shoulder.

“In your dreams,” he teases, goosebumps peppering your skin from the low way he says your name and from the gentle brush of his fingers over the back of your arm as they trail their way up to your shoulder.

He’s silent for a moment, carefully pressing warm, slightly rough fingers against your skin, watching until you wince just slightly when he pokes at your shoulder blade. “That’s where it hurts?”

“Mhm,” you nod, lips parting ever so slightly as he kneads around the area. You can practically feel him smirking when you sigh a moment later, his fingers working perfectly over the sore muscle as his other hand anchors itself at your hip, “You’re… actually, like, really good at this,” you murmur with a little laugh, needing to find some way to break the silence.

“My mom is – was, she was a masseuse, back when we lived in Cali,” Billy explains, leaning in closer, his lips all but brushing against your ear as he speaks softly, like he’s telling you some deep, dark secret, “I might’ve looked at one or two of her books.”

“Really?” You ask, brows furrowing as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.

“Sue me, I was thirteen and they had nudes in ‘em,” he chuckles, biting into his bottom lip when your breathy laugh morphs into a moan when he presses just right against your shoulder. The fingers of his other hand tighten on your hip as he pulls you back against him, his lips just barely grazing over the crook of your neck, “But I still picked up a thing or two.”

“Clearly,” you breathe, brows tugging together as you tilt your head to the side, an open invitation. The blond doesn’t need any more convincing and you let your eyes flutter shut as his lips descend upon your neck, pressing hot kisses against the sensitive skin.

The rise and fall of your chest grows shallow as the two of you seem to lose yourselves; you gasp as the hand on your hip trails down over your thigh, until Billy can drag the tips of his fingers beneath the white and gold hem of your pleated skirt just as the hand on your shoulder begins slowly moving around your ribs, to your front. Despite the AC units humming away, you can’t help but feel flush as he presses himself against you, already half-hard against the small of your back.

With a gasp, you jerk away from him at the sound of a door opening and closing in the hallway, muffled voices and laughter filtering in through the closed doors of the gym.

“Dammit,” Billy mumbles behind you as he quickly glances at the clock hanging above one of the exits, sighing disappointedly when he sees the time – fifteen minutes until practice.

Deciding to finally give in to the wants you’ve been harboring for months, you grab one of his hands and playfully bite your lip, nodding to one of the sets of gym doors, “Follow me.”

Smirking, he follows behind you as you quickly make your way to the doors, both of you pausing for a second to make sure the coast is clear before you bolt down the hallway. A second later, you’re pushing Billy through a door into a random classroom.

“This is the old Health room,” you explain, gasping as he turns and presses you against the old door, the metal of it cool against your back as you quickly scan over the empty room, dim other than the early evening light spilling in through the thin slats of the blinds, “No one ever comes in here.”

“Uh huh, fascinating,” he nods, turning his head to spit his gum into a small trash can by the door, before eagerly pressing his lips to yours. He smirks into the kiss as you mewl, his lips parting to quickly swallow the sweet sounds you make.

Always one to give as good as you get, your lips move against his just as fervently, both of your hands trailing up underneath his t-shirt as you rub over his stomach, muscles taut under your touch. His tongue slips into your mouth in the same second he presses against you, his thin gym shorts doing nothing to conceal the hardness of his length as it presses against your lower stomach.

You arch into his touch as his hands cup your breasts through your uniform, a low growl rumbling through his chest as you rake your nails over his chest and down his stomach. Boldly, you reach down and palm at his cock, savoring the surprised grunt he lets out before you quickly nudge your hand down the front of his shorts and into his boxers.

“Shit,” he breathes, one hand still kneading at your breast as the other skates back up your thigh, his forehead resting against yours. Biting your lip, you watch through hooded eyes as you experimentally stroke over his cock, marveling at how hard he already is, like velvet over steel.

Just as you feel him twitch in your grasp, the blond pulls away from you with a teasing grin and presses one last kiss against your lips before tapping the back of your thighs, urging you to jump.

“Fuck, there you go,” Billy rasps, fingers digging into the curve of your ass as you clamber up into his arms, your shoulder only barely smarting as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I gotcha,” his muscular biceps flex as he quickly walks a few feet from the door and deposits on you on top of the, thankfully barren, teacher’s desk pushed haphazardly into the corner.

“Billy,” you sigh, the sound being practically pushed from your lungs as he presses himself back between your thighs, cheer skirt rumbled around your waist as he all but folds you in half – your hands cling to his shirt desperately, one leg wrapped securely around his hip as the other ends up slung nearly over his shoulder.

“Yeah, princess?” He taunts with a wolfish grin, smirking at the way the muscles of your thigh twitch as his fingers move toward your pussy, hardly hidden beneath your boyshorts. You all but levitate off the desk as two of his fingers swipe over your slit, the apples of your cheeks flushing when he chuckles triumphantly, the thin cotton doing nothing to hide how wet you are. “Finally gonna give me what I want?”

You can feel your ponytail bobbing wildly at the crown of your head when you nod, a whiny moan blooming from your lips when he moves his fingers in tight circles against your clit, the flimsy material of your underwear quickly dampening against his touch.

“Yeah, yeah, Billy,” your hands tremble as you pull at his t-shirt, desperate for what you’ve been wanting for so long, “C’mon, please!”

“Easy, tiger,” he laughs, tongue running over his bottom lip as he easily tugs his shirt over his head, your own hands scrambling to push down your boyshorts. Taking mercy on you yet again, he helps you, eagerly tugging the white cotton down your legs. He damn near tears them in two as he pushes your underwear over one sneaker, letting them dangle from your ankle.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, crowding against you again as you lean back on the desk, propped up on your elbows. You stare up at him, lips parted, as he all but folds you in half, warm hands pressing against the backs of your thighs, “Fucking leaking and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Oh!” You hiss, trying your hardest to keep your voice down, head thudding back against the desk as Billy quickly tugs his shorts down, just enough to get his cock out, and teasingly runs it through your folds, “Billy, oh my God, just do it!” You all but beg, teeth biting into your bottom lip at the wet sounds of him moving against you, deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Were you anywhere else, Billy would have absolutely no qualms about teasing you to within an inch of your life – payback for playing cat and mouse with him for almost three months straight. Lucky for you, he’s just as nervous at the thought of getting caught with his pants down as you are, shuddering to think what Neil would do if he got expelled over this.

With a barely contained growl, he pushes into you, his cock sliding easily to the hilt with how wet you are. Your back arches off the desk as he slides home, stretching you beautifully as he fills you completely.

“Oh – oh my God,” you breathe as he stills, giving you a few seconds to adjust. Your hands scramble over the smooth top of the desk before you grab onto his wrists as his hands hook behind your knees.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans – the way he grumbles your name makes your walls clench around his length, punching another grunt from his chest as he starts shallowly thrusting against you, grinding his hips against yours.

The two of you dissolve into a flurry of breathy mewls and sighs, each of you desperately trying to keep quiet as the muffled sounds of skin against skin and the dull creaking of the desk fill the room. Your eyelids flutter as you watch Billy above you, golden curls bouncing with each of his thrusts as a light sheen of sweat covers his tanned chest.

Grunting lowly, he presses harder against the backs of your thighs, practically pressing your kneecaps against the desk below you, blue eyes sparkling as you easily follow his movements. With the small change in angles, the head of his cock thrusts perfectly against that sensitive spot within you, and he grins triumphantly as you tremble beneath him.

“That the spot, princess?” He questions, smirking when you nod your head with a little broken squeak, “Fuck, I can’t wait to get you in a bed – bet you can bend in all kinds of pretty ways, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, Billy,” you agree, willing to agree to just about anything as long as he keeps moving. You can hardly contain the moans spilling from your lips as he works you higher and higher, the adrenaline from the possibility of getting caught as well as the rush of finally having him making you rush toward your end faster than you normally would.

Breathing heavily as your pussy clenches at his cock, he lets go of one of your thighs and shoves your shirt up, unceremoniously taking your bra with it. You bite at the back of one hand as he teases at your breasts, using one hand to pinch and pull at one nipple before moving to the other as he stares down at you with half-lidded eyes, brows furrowed in concentration.

“O-Oh, my – fuck, I’m –” You moan brokenly, squirming beneath him as you feel yourself nearing the edge, teeth biting desperately into your bottom lip as you claw at his forearm and waist.

Cockily licking over his lips, Billy leans forward as he grinds against you, his hips putting pressure on your clit as he covers your mouth with one hand, propping himself up against the desk with an elbow as his other still grasps at the back of your knee.

You squeeze him tightly as the tail end of his happy trail rubs deliciously over you, giving you just enough stimulation to throw you over the edge.

“Yeah, princess,” he encourages, grunting with nearly every thrust into you as he feels you clenching around him, pushing him further and further toward his own edge as he clenches his jaw, determined to hang on as long as possible.

After only a few more thrusts, he quickly pulls out with a small groan. “Fuck, fuck,” he pants, chest heaving as he strokes his cock, painting your lower belly with stripes of his release.

Both of you still for a moment, breathing heavily as you each come down. Half expecting Billy to simply get dressed again and leave, you’re surprised when he softly kisses you, more relaxed this time, as his warm breath fans over your cheek. Dazedly, you kiss him back, your lips moving together unhurriedly as you card your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at the nape of his neck.

After a moment, you part and your lips quirk up into a shy smile as he moves back half a step, giving you enough room to sit up.

“Oh, uh,” you breathe, looking down when you feel his cum cooling against your skin. Glancing around the room, you pout a little when you don’t see any tissues or paper towels, “There’s paper towels in the locker room?” You offer, looking over at Billy, watching as he quickly tugs his shorts back into place.

“I got it,” he says with a small smirk and before you have time to question what he means, he quickly tugs your underwear off your ankle and uses them to wipe at your skin, grinning meanly when you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Jackass!” You exclaim, laughing softly despite yourself, “That’s the only pair I have with me!”

“Nothing wrong with going commando, sweetness,” he says with a wink, chuckling when you wrinkle your nose at the thought while you pull your bra and shirt back into place, “Come back to my place and I’ll was ‘em for you, my parents don’t get back until late, anyway.”

“You just want a round two,” you laugh, hopping off the desk and straightening out your skirt the best you can before running your hands over your hair, trying to smooth out your ponytail.

“Told you I was gonna fold you up all pretty,” Billy smirks, crowding against you yet again once he tugs his shirt back on and lightly grasping at your jaw, “Something tells me you won’t have a problem with that either.”

“That’s presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“Sure, yeah, I dunno what that means, princess,” he says, grinning when you laugh, your hands pressed against his chest as he quickly tucks your boyshorts into the waistband of his shorts, “Just come back to my place, hm?”

“What about basketball practice? Jason hates when people ditch.”

“You really think I give a shit about what Carver wants?” Billy laughs, taking one of your hands in his as he makes his way toward the door.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you finally agree, rolling your eyes playfully as you let him pull you out into the hall.

“And come with me to the Halloween party?”

“You have quite a list of demands, Hargrove.”

“Hey,” he says with a little shrug, glancing at you as you walk side by side toward the locker rooms, “That’s what you get for teasing me.”

You merely giggle as the two of you round a corner, nearly freezing and nervously glancing over at Billy when you come across Steve, chest heaving as he leans over a water fountain.

Standing straight, he wipes at his lips with the back of his hand, narrowing his eyes at Billy, watching as he quickly scoops up his duffle bag from where he’d tossed it down earlier in the hallway. “Dude, why’re you leaving? You’re almost, like, half an hour late for practice.”

“Yeah, well, tell Carver something came up,” the blond boy huffs dismissively before taking your hand once more. You shoot a bashful smile at Steve, blushing as you and Billy walk toward the doors out to the parking lot.

Behind you, Steve takes a minute to connect the dots, brows furrowing as he plants his hands on his hips. After a second, his eyes widen and he shakes his head.

“Come on, at school?” He calls down the hallway, shaking his head as you and Billy laugh, “Fucking animals, man.”

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myung-heee · 7 months

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manipulation c.yj

kinktober: day 9 + manipulation

pairings: yeonjun x f!reader

warnings: manipulator!yeonjun x (kinda) innocent!reaader, manipulation, unprotected, (noncon at first), oral (f receiving), missionary

yeonjun is your closest friend since high school, both of you are complete opposites. he was popular, athletic, and had good grades, making him every girl's ideal type. Well, you can't blame them. yeonjun is a total package, embodying everything one could desire in a guy. he's like the living standard of a man.

both of you are quite close, and the reason why he was close to you and never broke your friendship remained a mystery to you and the other students around you. imagine being friends with the most idolized man on your campus while you consider yourself just a potato. however, yeonjun doesn't see you that way!! he views you as a cute potato.. (lol) he likes you as a woman, as a lady. he just hasn't found the right time to tell you

on the other hand, there's kai, your new friend who recently transferred to your class. initially, yeonjun didn't pay much attention; he would casually greet kai with a smile or a simple 'hi' whenever they crossed paths.

your friendship with kai seemed to flourish as yeonjun got busier with his basketball practices.

"let's hang out at my place," yeonjun approached you while you were sitting at your desk, copying the notes kai had lent you. you looked up at him and said shortly, "sorry, can't," before returning your attention to your notebook.

he raised a brow and asked, "can't? why? do you have something important coming up today?" he replied, "yeah, I'll be studying with kai," you said without even glancing at him. his expression faded, and he scoffed, "kai? the new guy, huh?"

"are you replacing me, y/n?" he asked. You looked up at him, trying to find a joke in his expression, but he seemed genuinely serious, gripping his towel, eyes fixed on you. "it's just one time.. i can always hang out with you, you know?" you explained. he sighed and looked away. "that's the point—just one time. this is the first time you don't want to hang out with me and choose someone you met just weeks ago?" his voice grew louder, drawing a few glances from your classmates. you sighed and looked around.

"jun, let's talk about this tomorrow. i have something to do," you said, showing him your notes. he just scoffed, wiped his face with the towel, and walked away. Before he could leave the classroom, he said, "i'll see you at the gate after class. i won't take no for an answer," and left.

your brows furrowed as you were about to say something, but the door had already closed. you sighed, put down your notes, and placed kai's notebook on his empty desk.

you told kai you weren't able to study with him tonight because something urgent came up. luckily for you, kai didn't actually mind it and told you that it was all fine.

you smiled at him. after class, you went to the gate right where yeonjun told you to. you saw him on his phone, a basketball on the side of his waist, and he had a towel hanging over his shoulder. you cleared your throat; he immediately looked in your direction and smiled, putting his phone in his pocket and wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"i really thought you didn't want to be friends with me anymore," he chuckled. you looked down. he was your only close friend, so of course, you would choose him over anyone else.

you had been debating with yourself earlier about whether you would hang out with him or kai, then a thought came to your mind. yeonjun was a popular guy, yet he chose to be friends with you. you felt bad, so you thought that maybe you had to choose him too.

"well, you're my best friend... why wouldn't i hang out with you?" you smiled. he patted your head. "i am your only best friend, so you'll choose me over anyone, okay?" he whispered. you nodded.

"that's what i thought," he smiled. you looked at him, confused about what he meant, but you just brushed it off. as you arrived at his home, his parents were there, and you greeted them.

"we'll just study together," he said and guided you upstairs into his room.

as you entered his room, you immediately made your way into his desk. you put your bag on the table and sat on his gaming chair. his eyes were fixated on you. "do you really think we'll study?" he chuckled. you furrowed your brows and threw a glance at him. "wait, we won't?" you asked in a confused tone.

he put his towel on the doorknob before clicking the lock. "yeah.. we'll hang out, remember?" he smiles innocently. you looked over at the doorknob, confused about why he locked the door.

when he saw your doubting expression, he slightly scratched the back of his neck and looked at you. "i just wanna have some privacy, so i could make up for the time i should've been with you instead of my practices," he sighed. you slightly nodded. "it wasn't your fault though.. besides, we're best friends, it doesn't really matter. it's not like i am your girl or anything," you said quietly.

best friends. he smiled at that word.

"yeah, best friends," he replied. you smiled and stood up. "what should we do then? we aren't going to study, right?" you asked. "do you want to play games? multiplayer?" you continued.

he shook his head.

"there's, uh, thoughts in my mind that i want to ask out loud, but at the same time, i can't" he softly said. you tilted your head in confusion. "what is it? Tell me, I'm your friend," you smiled.

"yeah, that's why I can't tell you because you're just my friend," he sighed. you stared at him for seconds. not knowing what to say. "what.. should i do then?" you asked, his face lit up like a candle. smiling at your response as if it were the exact words he wanted to hear from you.

"are you sure you can do anything i'll ask?" he raised a brow, making his way towards you.

you slightly nodded; you trusted him. so why not?

"you know.. you've been spending a lot of time with kai, and it makes me.. jealous." he sighes. he stops walking. he's in front of you, towering over you. you looked up at his tall figure.

"you feel jealous?" you asked, confused. he nodded.

"yeah." he places his hands on your chin and looks at your eyes deeply. "i wonder if he's being this close to you." his voice sounds like it's hypnotising.

you immediately shook your head. "n-no.. he doesn't," you said. he chuckles. "he better be," he says, lowering his head. "you won't let him, right?" he whispers in your ears.

"no," you shortly said. "good girl," he said as he kissed your temple. "that's what i thought, hmm?" he smiled.

you nodded. with each second, you grew more desperate and needy for your best friend. all the signs of battling from your thoughts that he was just a friend disappeared. every word that leaves his mouth feels like music to your ears.

"i know you like me, y/n, so why don't you show how much you do?" he held your shoulders and sat you on the bed

"h-huh? right now?" you asked, confused. you held his arm and shook your head. "we can't.. your parents are downstairs." you whispered.

"let's just be quiet and quick," he said reassuringly. he gently kissed your neck down to your shoulders, your hands holding on to his shirt.

"wait—"

you said, stopping him from removing your shirt. halfway through it, he paused and looked at you. he can see that you were hesitant.. you were about to say something, but he cuts you. "don't you trust me? come on, y/n.. i'll take care of you. hmm? you'll love this," he confidently said, kissing your nose before completely removing your shirt.

he traces soft kisses on your shoulders, leaving soft marks. "trust me, okay?" he said softly. he cupped your clothed chest and massaged it softly before removing your bra. you blushed, feeling all shy and embarrassed.

"you're so pretty," he whispered, giving both of your chests equal attention, sucking and licking, leaving bite marks all over them.

he knelt on the bed and pushed you on the mattress, back touching the comfortable sheets. he rubbed his palm against your inner thighs. you're still wearing your denim shorts.

he was about to pull them down when you stopped him again, holding his arm. "wait—i don't think—" you were stopped when you met his eyes; his eyes are dark, staring into you. he seemed to be losing his patience now.

"don't act like you didn't do these with kai. Such a whore." his words hit like a brick as he pulled your shorts down. you rubbed your legs together, and you knew deep down that you didn't want this at all. but you can't do anything. you like him, and you trust him.

you bit your lips as you felt his finger rubbing your clothed sensitive spot. you've never felt this way before, not with your best friend.

you gasped when you felt him pull down your panty, revealing your wet core. he laughed softly when you covered your face embarrassingly.

"cute"

he said before completely diving into your wet entrance, covering your mouth to muffle your moans, the other hand gripping to his sheets.

"kids! dinner's ready!" your body froze as you heard his mom shout from downstairs. your brain is getting fuzzy. your eyes shut, you force yourself not to moan so hard.

"yeonjun," you moaned his name quietly, making him look up, his mouth still on your entrance. your eyes met, you could see how his jaws move up and down and the way he eats you out.

he groans, and he can tell that you're getting close. and he has a bad idea. as you were about to release, he removed his mouth from your core, your hips chasing his mouth. you whined at the sudden loss of pleasure. "junnie." you glanced at him, brows furrowed.

he chuckled at the view. he ran his fingers through his hair before lowering his sweatpants, just on his thigh. he took out his hard erection. you were about to say something but were stopped when you felt him rub his shaft against your wet pussy.

when he entered his shadt inside you, you couldn't help but whine. "hnggg!" you whine loud enough that both of you stopped at the same touch, eyes meeting with each other full of lust.

the surroundings were all quiet until you heard him chuckle, "keep quiet for me, y/n." he kissed your forehead and pushed himself deeper.

as he found his pace, he began thrusting fast enough that you could hear the bed creaking. your brows furrowed, hands on your mouth, and the other one is holding his arm.

you were so lost in pleasure, yet you remained conscious, forcing yourself not to release a sound.

"fuck. im near, fuck!" he groans. you shook your head. "please pull out," you said quietly.

the case is that he won't come unless you go first. he held it in and began thrusting harder and faster, hissing. "come on, cum for me," he said desperately.

you can feel yourself getting closer and closer until a wave of pleasure hits your body, making you moan out loud. yeonjun immediately covers your mouth and chuckles. "shh.. you're taking me so well," he says, still fucking you through your orgasm.

he closed his eyes and pulled out, exactly as his seed spurted out on your thigh.

#txt x reader #txt smut #txt #txt imagines #yeonjun smut #soobin smut #kai smut #taehyun x reader #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun fluff #txt reactions #txt fanfic #kinktober #kpop kinktober #kpop smut

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Note

Eddie, diary, detention ^^

Oh, y'all are getting sick of Eddie fluff fics? Too bad, sorry xoxoxo 💚

Warnings: none, all fluff!

WC: 1.2k

“Goddamn Carver,” Eddie mutters to himself, slinging his backpack onto the desk and plopping into the attached chair. “Always running his goddamn mouth and then pulling the ‘But I have basketball practice’ excuse to get outta trouble.” He brings his voice up to a grating falsetto, mocking the jock’s whiny tone. “But does Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson get the same courtesy for his Hellfire campaigns? No, sir, he does not.”

“Wonderful monologue, Mr. Munson,” Mrs. O’Donnell says dryly, heels clacking as she walks through the open doorway. “Perhaps you’ll be a playwright in your next life.”

“Like one lifetime isn’t enough,” Eddie grumbles, low enough so his least favorite teacher can’t hear him.

O’Donnell peers at him over her horn-rimmed glasses. “You know the drill better than I do, Mr. Munson,” she scoffs with a wry smile. “One hour. No talking, no music, no funny business. You may do homework if you’d like, though I don’t anticipate you choosing now to act like a star student.”

Eddie slumps down into his seat. He’d already counted all the ceiling tiles last week when he ended up here after shoving Patrick for picking on Dustin Henderson. Guess I’ll start on the floor tiles now, he thinks grimly.

He makes it to 28 before something catches his eye. In one of the baskets underneath a desk is a purple leather-bound notebook. The way it’s resting halfway out of the basket looks like it had fallen out of a backpack or accidentally left behind. It’s too fancy to only be used for school, and it piques his curiosity.

“Uh, Mrs. Oh-Dee?” Eddie blurts out, shooting his hand up in the air. “Can I grab a textbook? I think I’m gonna take you up on that homework offer.”

The teacher rolls her eyes. “Fine,” she quips. “And for the last time, stop calling me that.”

But Eddie’s already scrambling to the seat, plucking the journal from its spot and shielding it with a history book. As soon as he opens the cover, his eyes widen.

This diary belongs to is printed on the first page, with a name handwritten in neat cursive underneath.

“Shit,” Eddie breathes, earning a scowl from O’Donnell. This is your diary.

Eddie doesn’t have too many classes with you; you’re in mostly honors courses, while he’s in his third senior year. But you do take health together, and he constantly finds himself stealing glances at you whenever he can.

He knows he shouldn’t read any further; he can close the diary and turn it into the Lost and Found box. But Eddie Munson’s never been known for his impulse control, and before he knows it, he’s skimming the pages.

Most of the entries don’t draw too much of his attention. There’s one from a few weeks ago about an argument you had with your best friend, but Eddie’s seen you two laughing together since then, so he assumes all’s well. A few days ago, you’d just written, “that history test was a bitch” accompanied by a frowning face. Eddie laughs quietly, knowing you’d probably aced it.

It’s the entry after that where he finds what he’s looking for.

Mr. Ellison paired me up with Eddie today! We had to work on an anti-smoking poster together, which was ironic, because he reeked of cigarettes. He asked me what I was doing this weekend, and I thought he was going to ask me out, but he didn’t. Guess he’s not into shy nerdy girls. Then again, who would be?

Eddie’s heart sinks into his stomach. If you only knew how much he wants to take you to dinner, hold hands across the table, maybe kiss you after splitting an ice cream sundae. He had planned on asking you out that day, only to wimp out at the last second.

He hastily tears out the page and pulls out a number two pencil that’s sharpened down to a nub. In the margins next to your entry, he draws and arrow and writes:

He’s definitely into shy nerdy girls, but he didn’t think you’d be into loud metalheads. Meet me at my locker tomorrow before health?

He slips the diary into his bag, vowing to put the note in your locker after his prison sentence—erm, detention, is over.

The next day, Eddie waits by his locker in between second and third periods. His heart pounds in his chest, and his stomach is doing that flip-flop thing it does before a gig. He relaxes a bit when he sees you walking towards him, note in hand.

“Hey,” you say softly, holding up the sheet of paper. “Did you…”

Eddie laughs nervously. “Y-Yeah, that was me,” he admits.

Your ears heat up, suddenly bashful. When you found the note, you’d assumed it was some prank by one of the jocks. The fact that it actually was Eddie gives you heart palpitations. “I didn’t know you felt that way about me,” you manage.

“I didn’t know you felt that way about me till, y’know, I read it,” Eddie mumbles, hoping you’re not too angry about that.

You cross your arms over your chest. “So, we’re just snooping through diaries now? A bit juvenile, dontcha think?” But your tone is light, despite the truthfulness of your statement.

“It, um, wasn’t my finest moment,” Eddie’s cheeks turn pink as he reaches into his bag, “which is why I wanted to show you this.” He pulls out a tattered composition book and hands it to you. “It’s not as cute as yours—oh, which I also have, heh.” He offers you your beloved purple journal.

“Thanks,” you mutter, ensuring that it’s now safely stored in your own backpack before bringing your attention back to his notebook. “What’s this?”

Eddie bites his lower lip anxiously. “It’s my lyric book,” he explains sheepishly. “But not the one I show the guys. This has all my lovey-dovey songs in it. Y’know, shit they’d kick my ass for.” Another nervous chuckle. “They’re, um, they’re about you.”

“Me?!” you ask incredulously.

“Yeah,” he smiles, letting his fingertips graze your hand. “Figured it was only fair, since I totally read your stuff.”

You flip through the pages, heart warming at the words etched on them. Lyrics like, her smile melts me like snow on my tongue/grow old together but we’ll always feel young make you giggle. “These are really good,” you muse.

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Not too corny?”

“Oh, no,” you tease him, “they are extremely corny. But I’m a sucker for a good rhyme scheme, so…” You trail off as Eddie grins.

“Maybe I could play them for you sometime? Like after school today?” He winces, hoping he doesn’t sound as desperate as he thinks he does.

You nod. “I’d like that.”

“Cool.” Eddie closes his locker and turns to you slowly, a mischievous twinkle in his chocolate brown eyes. “Actually, what do you say we ditch health and hang out at mine? I promise I’m a lot more interesting than whatever Ellison is going to lecture us about today.”

You peer around the hallway, making sure it’s clear of teachers before slipping your hand into Eddie’s larger, calloused one. “Let’s blow this joint.”

“That’s my girl.”

#bug's 2k celebration #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

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goldberrg · 7 months

Text

point of no return

summery : Billy has zero patience, and he's holding on with the last of his strength, repeating like a mantra his father's fucking instructions that you can't beat girls, but Y\N Klein has been walking on a fine line for days. She's an arrogant little bitch, a spoiled daddy's daughter who has never heard the word “no” in her life. She has infinitely long legs, a mouth created for blowjobs, and luxurious tits that she flaunts at every opportunity. And this is where the list of its obvious advantages ends.

TW's — pwp ( 18+ ), dirty talk, underage, rough sex, mention of smoking, sex in public.

❕MASTERLIST ❕

Billy is annoyed by how languidly you float into the classroom, how you wrinkle your nose with displeasure, taking your place at the desk right in front of him, how you distastefully curl your plump, evenly made-up lips. He is infuriated by the smell of your sweet perfume, provincial slut outfit and the eyes of an innocent doe.

And it seems that you like to piss him off lately, because Billy does not find any other objective reasons that she has become too much in his space. You and your entourage are sitting at a nearby table at lunch, loudly discussing Tommy Hagen's latest party, sitting in the stands at basketball practice, although you had not previously been attracted to this sport, and the cutouts of your blouses are becoming more and more explicit every day. And Billy, by and large, does not care what you are up to, but his cup of patience is already overflowing.

The last straw is the fucked-up that you arranged in the parking lot at the school, blocking the exit of his car with your fucking car. And the only reason Billy hasn't nailed you yet is an exceptional unwillingness to deal with the consequences.

— Where the fuck is Klein? — Billy bumps into her cheerleader friend in the hallway, apparently delayed at a cheerleading practice.

The girl shies away from him as if from a madman, stammers, trying to explain something, watching with horror as Billy's nostrils swell with rage and his eyes fill with blood.

— I'm fucking asking you again, where the fuck is Klein?

— In the office of the school newspaper. �� she answers in a half — whisper, taking small steps backwards so as not to anger Billy even more. — Preparing a fashion column for Friday's issue.

— Goood. — Billy pulls, turning in the right direction. He has no idea what he will do with your bitchy attitude when he finds you, but he keeps repeating to himself that he cant beat girls, especially if they are mayor's daughters.

— What the fuck, Klein?! — Billy opens the door from his feet, perhaps surprised that the newspaper nerds have already run away by this hour and have no one to impress.

— Ugh, Hargrove, rude. — you respond, looking up at him with a mocking look.

— You fucking did it on purpose!

— What did i do? — your expression is so innocent that Billy chokes on his indignation.

— Car, Klein.

— Oh, that. — you bend around him in an arc, which is difficult to do in such a tight space, and rings the keys, locking the office door from the inside. — Will you punish me?

— You're fucked up. — Billy chuckles.

— It turns you on, doesn't it? — you respond, coming close to him. Your hair smells of the same sweet perfume, your crown is right under his nose, your look from the bottom up is cunning and tempting.

— If you wanted me to fuck you, you could have just asked. — your lips are crushed by his kiss, and you immediately greedily open your mouth, letting in his tongue, leans towards his hands, wrapping your strong neck.

— That wouldn't be interesting. — you reply as his lips move down your neck, pulling the smooth, delicate skin into your mouth, leaving behind blooming hickeys.

— A little spoiled slut. — Billy picks you up under the butt, sitting you on the desk, right on the papers and materials of tomorrow's newspaper.

You spread your knees, and he immediately finds himself between them, you pull his shirt off his shoulders, putting your mouth to his muscular tanned chest. — Don't you fuck everything that moves in this school?

Billy, with a growl, runs his palms under your skirt, stroking your thighs through thin panties, bites your breasts through your dress and underwear, pulling the lace fabric with his teeth.

— How chatty. — he teases you with light touches of his fingers, licks widely from the cleavage between your breasts to your collarbone, sucking the skin. — Aren't you already leaking, even though I haven't even taken off your tiny panties?

— And what other invitation are you waiting for? — you move your hips under his palm to snuggle, to get used to hard calloused fingers. You bend in your back, throwing your arms over Billy's shoulders, and exaggeratedly groan in his ear. — Come on, Hargrove, stick your dick in me.

Billy growls with indignation, he is not led to the provocations of spoiled girls, doing only what he sees fit. But Klein, pressed against the table, is too sweet, a tasty morsel to back down now. And Billy really wants to plant you right now, so that you howl with pleasure, fuck your arrogance and arrogance out of you. You must break your voice, you must remember this dirty sex as the best in your miserable life.

Your palms slide down his shoulders, fall on his stomach, tickling with teasing touches, stop at the belt buckle, unbuttoning it with a loud clang. He turns you obedient and pliable on yout stomach, so as to flatten your on the creaking wood, presses his palm on the small of your back, and you bend harder, sticking out your small strong ass.

Billy bites your neck, pushing your legs apart with his knee, rubs his hard-standing dick against your butt through the fabric of underwear and tight jeans and with a grin notes the thin high half-clip that escaped from your lips.

— Beg me, Y\N. — he breathes into your ear and pulls away, looking at the view.

Klein, with smudged lipstick and a swollen mouth, scratching the surface of the table with acrylic nails, in a crumpled dress with your ass pulled up like a hot bitch in sticky lace panties, whines with displeasure, looking at him over your shoulder.

— Please, Billy. — you lick your lips, pull the bottom one into your mouth, biting nervously. — Please.

— Not enough. — he unbuttons a button, pulls the zipper on his jeans, lowering them from his hips, and exhales with relief. — I don't believe it.

— Asshole, — you get angry and immediately ask, without giving him a snide answer. — Put it inside me.

— That's better.

— Fuck me so that I can't walk tomorrow.

— Even so? — Billy licks his lips and winks at you, rustles the foil, opening the package with a condom. — What else?

— So that I can lose my voice. — you feel how he pushes aside a strip of underwear with his fingers and puts a hot head, and feeds on the dick, taking it completely. — So that the bruises go away for a few more days.

— I'm surprised, Y\N. — Billy comes out of your almost to the end, puts his hand under your stomach, rides up your chest, crushing, pushes inside with a flourish. — And you pretended to be such a good girl.

Klein is silent, allowing him to grab you by the throat and squeeze you until you wheezes, rests your palms on the table so as not to wiggle your stomach on it in time with each deep thrust. Obedient, slippery, narrow. Billy did not expect that you were so tight that you would wrap around him like a glove, he was sure that the entire basketball team, led by the captain, had visited the mayor's daughter.

Your throat contracts under the palm of your hand, you sway to the beat, adjusting to the ragged rhythm of his movements, hisses when the fingers of the other hand squeeze your thigh too hard. Lustful, insatiable, predatory. Billy releases your throat from the grip, pulls your hair up to intercept it more conveniently under your stomach and slide two fingers to the clitoris.

You moan out loud, rolling, sonorous, as if you had forgotten where they are, as if you want to gather half of the school under the door of the office. Billy clamps your mouth with wet fingers, driving indelicately into a soft, tender body, close to orgasm, feels your shudder all over, biting the tips of his fingers and immediately licking your tongue.

— You look attractive today. — Billy chuckles, pulling out of you. Throws the used condom on the table next to it, pulls on underwear with jeans and zips up. He looks for his shirt.

— Thank you. — you breath hoarsely, getting up on trembling legs, straightens your dress and hair, reaches for your purse for a mirror. — I can't say the same about you, Hargrove.

You seem to like pissing him off lately, but Billy is patient and knows how to wait.

— You have five minutes to fix your makeup and drive away your fucking girly car while I smoke.

— Or what? Will you crash my car and yours at the same time? — you arch a perfectly plucked eyebrow ironically.

— Oh, Klein, I'll think of something more interesting.

— I can't wait, Hargrove.

#strangerthings #strangerthingsedit #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy x you #billy x reader #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fandom #stranger things 4

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luvsforloak · 11 months

Text

Cuddles (modern au)

pairing: (basketball player) Lo'ak x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: no warnings

summary: y/n is tired from all the studying and waits for Lo'ak to come home from basketball practice.

words: 355 (im so sorry help)

taglist: @downbadforloak

a/n: it took tbh so much time to come up with this idea, its kinda embarrassing. but it was fun to write, if yall have more ideas lemme know

It was about 9pm at night and you were busy studying for your exams coming up. Even though it was only 9 you were really tired because of all of the studying. The only thing you wanted to do tonight was lay in Lo’aks arms and fall asleep. Sadly he was at basketball practice.

You were sitting at your desk looking out the window, waiting for Lo’ak to return. You slowly laid your head down on your desk, but you forgot that your laptop was laying right there, with a biology video open on youtube that you needed to help you study. Your head fell on your laptop, right at the spacebar causing the video to continue. You immediately jumped up from the scare, “oh shit…” you said while rubbing your eyes.

You decided to just go lay on the couch waiting for Lo’ak to return. While flopping on the couch you grabbed the tv remote and put on some netflix. You didn’t wanna fall asleep yet, but you were so tired, you immediately closed your eyes and drifted to sleep.

“Hey babe i’m back.” Lo’ak said walking into your dorm room, “oh fuck ur asleep” he whispered to himself while putting his sports bag on the ground. He tippy-toed to the couch trying not to wake you. “Hmm…” you mumbled quietly in your sleep. He grabbed a blanket and put it over you while he sat next to you on the couch. You were curled up in a little ball, so he fitted perfectly next to you.

“Oh hey Lo’ak, how was practice?” you asked slowly sitting up, “it was good, I’m sorry that im late, it’s just my c-” he couldn't even finish his sentence, “no. no. no. don't apologise. It’s fine” you laid your head on his shoulder snuggling in his arms. “Can you maybe help me study tomorrow? It’s just all so difficult and I don't understand anything” you asked him yawning as if you were about to fall asleep. “Ofcourse baby, I’m not really smarter then you, but we can try” he said laughing a little bit. “Goodnight Y/n”

#loak sully #loak #avatar #loak fluff #loak x reader #loak x you #avatar fanfic #atwow #atwow fanfic #loaksdog #loak sub #basketball #avatar the way of water #neteyam #jake sully #neytiri #aonung #roxto

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starboyshoyo · 1 year

Text

Cat Got Your Tongue?

Pairing: Ace Trappola x reader

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Genre: fluff, humor

Word Count: 1k

A study date with your crush, Ace Trappola, gone just a little bit awry

“Hey, hey~” a voice teases from behind you, and you groan. It’s only natural that the silence of your study session in the library would be interrupted by the one and only Ace Trappola, the- albeit handsome- annoyance extraordinaire.

“What do you want, Trappola?” you mutter, turning your head away from him. “Some of us are trying to prepare for Professor Trein’s quiz tomorrow-”

A wet finger immediately pokes you in the ear, and you yelp, swatting his hand away. “Hey! Gross, you buffoon!”

Ace cackles at your reaction, plopping down in the seat next to you with no regard for your school bag that he just crushed. “I’m not here to distract you, I promise,” he explains as you finally turn around and look at him. His hair is even more unruly today than usual, you notice.

“I was gonna try reading up on Crewel’s potion formulas, but I forgot my textbook back at Heartslabyul- and stupid Deuce won’t let me borrow his.” He shakes his hair down at an imitatiation of the other boy. “‘No can do,’” he mimics exaggeratedly. “‘An honor student needs to study with his own book, so he can do well in class. Mommy will be mad at me if I don’t get at least 50%!’”

You sigh at his antics. So much for not distracting you. “Deuce is doing his best, you know,” you reminded him. “We’d do well to follow his example.” Standing up and stretching, you snap the book shut. Yanking your bag from under him, you gesture towards the door. “Why don’t we go get your book from Heartslabyul dorm? I need to get out of this stuffy place anyways- my neck was starting to hurt.”

Ace grins up at you, still lounging in the chair. “You’d walk all that way with me? What a sweet friend,” he teases. Why don’t we study in the Rose Garden? He stands up himself, plucking your History of Magic book off of the tabletop and handing it to you. “Don’t forget this, or our study date will be ruined.”

The words study date registered very briefly in your head. “It’s not a-” you splutter. Ace’s grin gets even wider. “It’s not a- I mean, it’s not my history book,” you amend your sentence.You weren’t technically avoiding the question, the book was indeed not yours. “It’s a reference book- I’m not supposed to take this outside the library.”

“Come on,” Ace wheedles. “Study date, remember? It won’t be a study date if I’m the only one studying and you’re just checking me out,” he winks. “I’ll even get us some pies from the kitchen to eat in the garden together. Trey was planning to make a fresh batch of blueberry tarts yesterday.”

Oh, Ace knew you well. “Fine,” you grumble, stuffing the book in your bag as discreetly as you could. “But only for the pies!”

+++

The rose gardens are exceedingly beautiful every time you see them. As you lay on your stomach in the grass, bright green strands tickling your cheeks, you sneak a glance at Ace out of the corner of your eye. He’s deep in concentration, face twisted into a pout. You always thought he was cute, but saying it to his face took a little too much courage that you didn’t have yet. Admiring him in your head would have to be enough for now.

The sun is warm on both of your backs, making you a little sleepy. Resting your head on the cool cover of the library book, you scoot just a bit closer now, so that your shoulders were touching. He smells a bit like raspberries, from the tart he had wolfed down as soon as you had arrived in the garden, and the shampoo he uses after basketball practice. It’s familiar, from the victory hugs he would give you after a successful score- something in between boyish cologne and comforting warmth.

Ace glances briefly at you, seeming a little surprised- but he doesn’t move away. He turns slightly, moving his hand up to your face and gently tracing his thumb over your cheek. “You had a bit of jam from the tarts there,” he says, grinning. When you push your face into his side, he quips, “If I didn’t know better, I would say you were trying to get with me.”

Affection bubbles up in you. “Maybe I am,” you whisper back. Your faces are a mere inch or two apart, those eyes sparkling with mischief.

If you just leaned a bit closer…

“TRAPPOLA!” a voice roars from across the garden. You and Ace spring apart, scrambling onto your feet. The library book lays forgotten in the grass, along with an empty plate covered in tart crumbs. Housewarden Riddle Rosehearts is staring at it with fury, his face quickly becoming the same shade of red as his hair. “Blatant disrespect!” he screams at the flustered boy. “Rule 89! What does rule 89 say? You must not eat the Queen’s tarts without her permission!”

“Housewarden Riddle!” Ace stammers, “I- I didn’t mean to break a rule, I was just trying to get something nice to eat while studying-”

“And a public display of affection in front of the Queen? There’s never been such disrespect!” The Heartslabyul housewarden continued his rant, with no regard to Ace’s protests. “Heathens! All of you! OFF WITH YOUR HEA- MPH!”

“Cat got your tongue!” you cried, the incantation of your signature spell fading into the air. You turned around just in time to see Riddle’s mouth snap shut. Immediately, the Heartslabyul housewarden’s eyes bugged out, face going red with rage. He was trying to open his mouth, and you knew that if he could speak, he would be hollering at the top of his lungs.

Ace stares at you. “How’d you do that?” he asked, incredulous. “If you’d been there when I ate that tart in the first week, then-”

“No time to talk!” you yelped, shoving Ace behind a rose hedge. “My spell won’t last long- come on, let’s run!”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ace x reader #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #heartslaybul x reader #heartslabyul

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minniesmelody · 2 years

Note

everyone always talks about Eddie x cheerleader but I want Gareth x cheerleader! like please give me angry puppy boy pouting about male bases or that other people see you in uniform! ugh I wish

𝗚𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗵 𝗘𝗺𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗖𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀

ᗩ/ᑎ: I love this request, I decided to make an entire Head canon post about Gareth being with a cheerleader, this isn’t proof read cause I just got done with it and it’s so late (it’s 3 am, and I need to get up early tomorrow :/ ) so pls enjoy whatever this is, idk man I’m tired.

♥︎starting off with who fell for who first, honestly depends on the situation but I would think you did, and he would slowly start to notice and he started falling too and before you knew it, you we’re together

♥︎it being a secret relationship, at least at first

♥︎no one knew except you two of course, not the cheerleading team, not hellfire, and especially not the jocks, especially them.

♥︎when you had practice, he would be there, he would sit in the corner somewhere or some place where you would have to look extra hard to find him, not only because he doesn’t wanna be seen being there but also because he doesn’t wanna hear any snarky comments from one of the jocks that ends up with fists in faces.

♥︎speaking of fists in faces, he gets in a lot of fights for you.

♥︎being a cheerleader, you were in the popular circle, also meaning all the popular guys were constantly hitting on you. This obviously upset Gareth in a way. Especially when you both became official, secretly official.

♥︎one time, Andy from the basketball team had asked you out, you denied of course and started to walk away, until he had grabbed you’re arm a little too rough and had pulled you into his chest, that’s when Gareth had lost it and started swinging. It was close call, but neither of you had got caught, Gareth blaming it on “that’s no way to treat a woman” thankfully people left it alone and it became something in the past

♥︎eventually Gareth told Hellfire and make them swear not to tell anyone

♥︎they had lots of emotions, mostly shocked and happy, happy Gareth found someone that makes him truly happy.

♥︎you would sneak into the drama room for watch them play DnD the nights you didn’t have a game or practice.

♥︎I do see a slight thing happening like Maddy and Nate, except it would sorta secretive. If you don’t understand what I mean, I’m basically saying he would hunt down any person who talk to you or touched you the wrong way.

♥︎sneaking into each other’s windows to see each other at night.

♥︎if you won’t leave the house, you guys have late night phone calls, it’s very rare for the two of you to go a night without talking to each somehow.

♥︎ trusting one another, him telling you stuff sometimes but most of the time it’s you telling him stuff, mostly gossip about the other girls. Most of the time he doesn’t even pay attention to what you’re saying, just enjoying hearing your voice, and sometimes he would be so into it “so wait, Beth and Chance hooked up in the locker room even though Chance is currently going out with Pamela? Damnnnn”

♥︎now moving onto how you both got caught and how people found out you we’re together.

♥︎you both just chilling in a empty classroom, talking about your day so far before 5th period when Jason had busted through the door with Chrissy in, probably coming in to have a quick hookup.

♥︎anyways, Jason immediately ran off with Chrissy and before you knew it, you and Gareth being together had spread like wildfire.

♥︎there was a few issues but it wasn’t as bad as you thought, like every craze, it had passed awfully quickly and some other drama had become the talk of the town.

♥︎after that, Gareth got a lot more comfortable and so did you. Starting to hold hands in the hallways and locker kisses became a thing.

♥︎in the end, it had it difficulties but it ended up working out just fine.

#stranger things #hellfire club #gareth the great #gwydion lashlee walton #gareth #gareth stranger things #gareth emerson #gareth emerson x reader #gareth x reader #gwydion #stranger things imagine #eddie munson #imagine #cheerleader #fanfic #headcanon #head canons

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cafeseoulmate · 1 year

Text

{11:13 AM}

university athletes au; wc: 658

“Hey Hyunjae—!”

Hyunjae immediately shushes Jacob with his pointer finger pressed in front of his lips, then moving that same finger to point at your sleeping figure next to him.

You lay on your side on the bleachers, stubbornly using your duffel bag as a makeshift pillow even when Hyunjae insisted that you can rest your head on his lap even with your damp hair. You also have his basketball varsity jacket right on top of swimming one as an extra blanket and your lucky plushie in your arms, a brown and red teddy bear that Hyunjae also gifted you for your first swim meet years back.

When Hyunjae leans back, he can see the faded marker ink running along your inner arm, indicating all the events you competed in today. And when the clouds suddenly clear up and sunlight creeps in the windows of the campus indoor pool, he is quick to pull his jacket closer to your eyes, still ensuring that you’re breathing properly and soundly even with the cover on your face.

“Do you want to play with me and Juyeon? The next game won’t be until 1 PM.” Jacob whispers, tapping the ball in his hands once before gesturing over to the crowd of people leaving the gymnasium. “We can practice for our game tomorrow with the rest of the team too.”

“I’m watching over them.” Hyunjae whispers back, glancing over to your sleeping figure again as you stir in your much-deserved nap. Your best friend holds back a coo when you unconsciously pull his jacket even closer to you as you move. “They finished all the events for swimming this morning.”

“Oh? And how did our swim captain do?”

Hyunjae smiles his proudest grin at Jacob’s question, resting his arm casually on the bleachers. “Four individual golds then three more golds from the relays! They also led their teammates well in their own events, I caught everything on video of course.”

Jacob shakes his head with a knowing smile, tucking the basketball on his side before waving his hands goodbye. “Alright, then, I’ll just play with Juyeon.” He concludes. “Just make sure Y/N gets something to eat when they wake up and come to practice later at 6 PM.”

Hyunjae hums, waving back to Jacob as the older boy walks away. “See you!”

When Jacob disappears, Hyunjae looks over at you again and smiles to himself, moving your hair out of your face before taking out his phone and ordering delivery.

“Do you need to go?” You ask all of a sudden, rubbing your eyes groggily and moving your body slowly so that you’re slightly facing upwards.

Hyunjae shakes his head immediately as soon as your eyes meet, adjusting his jacket on you again as it moves with you. “No, just go back to sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

“I’m okay—“

“You snore sometimes, people could get spooked when they walk in.” He jokes, to which you gather all of your energy to raise your arm and slap him. “I’m kidding.”

“But really, I’m good. I can sleep fine on my own.” You point out again. “Anyway, no one’s coming in here until our team dinner later.”

Regardless, Hyunjae shakes his head stubbornly once more as he confirms the delivery order for your lunch. “Nope, I’m staying right here and making sure no one’s gonna bother you.” He winks before placing his hand on your shoulder and gently moving you to lay on your side again. “Go back to sleep, I’ll wake you up when the food’s here.”

You groan, complying anyway as you lift your upper body up to move your duffel bag to the upper bleacher then dragging your body closer to Hyunjae. “I’m trapping you here,” You declare, finally resting your head on his lap. “until the food arrives.”

He snickers, moving his hand to your hair as you move around to get comfy. “Whatever you say, princess.”

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shuxiii · 1 year

Text

Everyday pt.3

Hanni Pham x reader pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7, pt8, pt9, pt10, pt11, pt12, pt13

a/n feeling generous today so double update!!! still, credits are all given to the real author ''every day'' by David Levithan

Day 5996

All I get is tomorrow.

As I fell asleep, I had a glint of an idea. But as I wake up, I realize the glint has no light left in it.

Today I’m a boy. Yang Jungwon. Soccer player, but not a star soccer player. Clean room, but not compulsively so. Videogame console in his room. Ready to wake up. Parents asleep.

He lives in a town that’s about a four-hour drive from where Hanni lives.

This is nowhere near close enough.

It’s an uneventful day, as most are. The only suspense comes from whether I can access things fast enough.

Soccer practice is the hardest part. The coach keeps calling out names, and I have to access it like crazy to figure out who everyone is. It’s not Jungwon’s best day at practice, but he doesn’t embarrass himself.

I know how to play most sports, but I’ve also learned my limits. I found this out the hard way when I was eleven. I woke up in the body of some kid who was in the middle of a ski trip. I thought that, hey, skiing had always looked fun. So I figured I’d try. Learn it as I went. How hard could it be?

The kid had already graduated from the bunny slopes, and I didn’t even know there was such a thing as a bunny slope. I thought skiing was like sledding—one hill fits all.

I broke the kid’s leg in three places.

The pain was pretty bad. And I honestly wondered if, when I woke up the next morning, I would still feel the pain of the broken leg, even though I was in a new body. But instead of the pain, I felt something just as bad—the fierce, living weight of terrifying guilt. Just as if I’d rammed him with a car, I was consumed by the knowledge that a stranger was lying in a hospital bed because of me.

And if he’d died … I wondered if I would have died, too. There is no way for me to know. All I know is that, in a way, it doesn’t matter. Whether I die or just wake up the next morning as if nothing happened, the fact of the death will destroy me.

So I’m careful. Soccer, baseball, field hockey, football, softball, basketball, swimming, track—all of those are fine. But I’ve also woken up in the body of an ice hockey player, a fencer, an equestrian, and once, recently, a gymnast.

I’ve sat all those out.

If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s video games. It’s a universal presence, like TV or the Internet. No matter where I am, I usually have access to these things, and video games especially help me calm my mind.

After soccer practice, Jungwon’s friends come over to play World of Warcraft. We talk about school and talk about girls (except for his friends Sunoo and Jake, who talk about boys). This, I’ve discovered, is the best way to waste time, because it isn’t really wasted—surrounded by friends, talking crap and sometimes talking for real, with snacks around and something on a screen.

I might even be enjoying myself if I could only unmoor myself from the place I want to be.

Day 5997

It’s almost eerie how well the next day works out.

I wake up early—six in the morning.

I wake up as a girl.

A girl with a car. And a license.

In a town only an hour away from Hanni’s.

I apologize to Ahn Yujin as I drive away from her house, a half hour after waking up. What I’m doing is, no doubt, a strange form of kidnapping.

I strongly suspect that Ahn Yujin wouldn’t mind. Getting dressed this morning, the options were black, black, or…black. Not in a goth sense—none of the black came in the form of lace gloves—but more in a rock ’n’ roll sense. The mix in her car stereo puts Janis Joplin and Brian Eno side by side, and somehow it works.

I can’t rely on Yujin’s memory here—we’re going somewhere she’s never been. So I did some Google mapping right after my shower, typed in the address of Hanni’s school, and watched it pop up in front of me. That simple. I printed it out, then cleared the history.

I have become very good at clearing histories.

I know I shouldn’t be doing this. I know I’m poking a wound, not healing it. I know there’s no way to have a future with Hanni.

All I’m doing is extending the past by a day.

Normal people don’t have to decide what’s worth remembering. You are given a hierarchy, recurring characters, the help of repetition, of anticipation, the firm hold of a long history. But I have to decide the importance of each and every memory. I only remember a handful of people, and in order to do that, I have to hold tight, because the only repetition available—the only way I am going to see them again—is if I conjure them in my mind.

I choose what to remember, and I am choosing Hanni. Again and again, I am choosing her, I am conjuring her, because to let go for an instant will allow her to disappear.

The same song that we heard in Minji’s car comes on—And if I only could, I’d make a deal with God.…

I feel the universe is telling me something. And it doesn’t even matter if it’s true or not. What matters is that I feel it, and believe it.

The enormity rises within me.

The universe nods along to the songs.

I try to hold on to as few mundane, everyday memories as possible. Facts and figures, sure. Books I’ve read or information I need to know. The rules of soccer, for instance. The plot of Romeo and Juliet. The phone number to call if there’s an emergency. I remember those.

But what about the thousands of everyday memories, the thousands of everyday reminders, that every person accumulates? The place you keep your house keys. Your mother’s birthday. The name of your first pet. The name of your current pet. Your locker combination. The location of the silverware drawer. The channel number for MTV. Your best friend’s last name.

These are the things I have no need for. And, over time, my mind has rewired itself, so all this information falls away as soon as the next morning comes.

Which is why it’s remarkable—but not surprising—that I remember exactly where Hanni’s locker is.

I have my cover story ready: If anyone asks, I am checking out the school because my parents might be moving to town.

I don’t remember if there are assigned parking spaces, so just in case, I park far from the school. Then I simply walk in. I am just another random girl in the halls—the freshmen will think I’m a senior, and the seniors will think I’m a freshman. I have Yujin’s schoolbag with me—black with anime details, filled with books that won’t really apply here. I look like I have a destination. And I do.

If the universe wants this to happen, she will be there at her locker.

I tell myself this, and there she is. Right there in front of me.

Sometimes memory tricks you. Sometimes beauty is best when it’s distant. But even from here, thirty feet away, I know that the reality of her is going to match my memory.

Twenty feet away.

Even in the crowded hallway, there is something in her that radiates out to me.

Ten.

She is carrying herself through the day, and it’s not an easy task.

Five.

I can stand right here and she has no idea who I am. I can stand right here and watch her. I can see that the sadness has returned. And it’s not a beautiful sadness—beautiful sadness is a myth. Sadness turns our features to clay, not porcelain. She is dragging.

“Hey,” I say, my voice thin, a stranger here.

At first she doesn’t understand that I’m talking to her. Then it registers.

“Hey,” she says back.

Most people, I’ve noticed, are instinctively harsh to strangers. They expect every approach to be an attack, every question to be an interruption. But not Hanni. She doesn’t have any idea who I am, but she’s not going to hold that against me. She’s not going to assume the worst.

“Don’t worry—you don’t know me,” I quickly say. “It’s just—it’s my first day here. I’m checking the school out. And I really like your skirt and your bag. So I thought, you know, I’d say hello. Because, to be honest, I am completely alone right now.”

Again, some people would be scared by this. But not Hanni. She offers her hand, introduces herself as we shake, and asks me why there isn’t someone showing me around.

“I don’t know,” I say.

“Well, why don’t I take you to the office? I’m sure they can figure something out.”

I panic. “No!” I blurt out. Then I try to cover for myself, and prolong my time with her. “It’s just … I’m not here officially. Actually, my parents don’t even know I’m doing this. They just told me we’re moving here, and I … I wanted to see it and decide whether I should be freaking out or not.”

Hanni nods. “That makes sense. So you’re cutting school in order to check the school out?”

“Exactly.”

“What year are you?”

“A junior.”

“So am I. Let’s see if we can pull this off. Do you want to come around with me today?”

“I’d love that.”

I know she’s just being nice. Irrationally, I also want there to be some kind of recognition. I want her to be able to see behind this body, to see me inside here, to know that it’s the same person she spent an afternoon with on the beach.

I follow her. Along the way, she introduces me to a few of her friends, and I am relieved to meet each one, relieved to know that she has more people in her life than Minji. The way she includes me, the way she takes this total stranger and makes her feel a part of this world, makes me care about her even more. It’s one thing to be love-worthy when you are interacting with your girlfriend; it’s quite another when you act the same way with a girl you don’t know. I no longer think she’s just being nice. She’s being kind. Which is much more a sign of character than mere niceness. Kindness connects to who you are, while niceness connects to how you want to be seen.

Minji makes her first appearance between the second and third period. We pass her in the hall; she barely acknowledges Hanni and completely ignores me. She doesn’t stop walking, just nods at her. She’s hurt—I can tell—but she doesn’t say anything about it to me.

By the time we get to math class, the fourth period, the day has turned into an exquisite form of torture. I am right there next to her, but I can’t do a thing. As the teacher reduces us to theorems, I must remain silent. I write her a note, as an excuse to touch her shoulder, to pass her some words. But they are inconsequential. They are the words of a guest.

bsp; I want to know if I changed her. I want to know if that day changed her, if only for a day.

I want her to see me, even though I know she can’t.

She joins us at lunch.

As strange as it is to see Hanni again, and to have her measure so well against my memory, it is even stranger to be sitting across from the jerk whose body I inhabited just three days ago. Mirror images do no justice to this sensation. She is more attractive than I thought, but also uglier. Her features are attractive, but what she does with them is not. She wears the superior scowl of someone who can barely hide her feelings of inferiority. Her eyes are full of scattershot anger, She posture one of defensive bravado.

I must have rendered her unrecognizable.

Hanni explains to her who I am, and where I come from. She makes it clear that she couldn’t care less. She tells her she left her wallet at home, so she goes and buys her food. When she gets back to the table with it, she says thanks, and I’m almost disappointed that she does. Because I’m sure that a single thank-you will go a long way in her mind.

I want to know about three days ago, about what she remembers.

“How far is it to the ocean?” I ask Hanni.

“It’s so funny you should say that,” she tells me. “We were just there the other day. It took about an hour or so.”

I am looking at her, looking again for some recognition. But she just keeps eating.

“Did you have a good time?” I ask her.

Hanni answers. “It was amazing.”

Still no response from her.

I try again. “Did you drive?”

She looks at me like I’m asking really stupid questions, which I suppose I am.

“Yes, I drove” is all she’ll give me.

“We had such a great time,” Hanni goes on. And it’s making her happy—the memory is making her happy. Which only makes me sadder.

I should not have come here. I should not have tried this. I should just go.

But I can’t. I am with her. I try to pretend that this is what matters.

I play along.

I don’t want to love her. I don’t want to be in love.

People take love’s continuity for granted, just as they take their body’s continuity for granted. They don’t realize that the best thing about love is its regular presence. Once you can establish that, it’s an added foundation to your life. But if you cannot have that regular presence, you only have the one foundation to support you, always.

She is sitting right next to me. I want to run my finger along her arm. I want to kiss her neck. I want to whisper the truth in her ear.

But instead I watch as she conjugates verbs. I listen as the air is filled with a foreign language, spoken in haphazard bursts. I try to sketch her in my notebook, but I am not an artist, and all that comes out are the wrong shapes, the wrong lines. I cannot hold on to anything that’s her.

The final bell rings. She asks me where I’ve parked, and I know that this is it, this is the end. She is writing her email address on a piece of paper for me. This is goodbye. For all I know, Ahn Yujin’s parents have called the police. For all I know, there’s a manhunt going on, an hour away. It is cruel of me, but I don’t care. I want Hanni to ask me to go to a movie, to invite me over to her house, to suggest we drive to the beach. But then Minji appears. Impatient. I don’t know what they are going to do, but I have a bad feeling. She wouldn’t be so insistent if making out weren’t involved.

“Walk me to my car?” I ask.

She looks at Minji for permission.

“I’ll get my car,” she says.

We have a parking lot’s length of time left with each other. I know I need something from her, but I’m not sure what.

“Tell me something nobody else knows about you,” I say.

She looks at me strangely. “What?”

“It’s something I always ask people—tell me something about you that nobody else knows. It doesn’t have to be major. Just something.”

Now that she gets it, I can tell she likes the challenge of the question, and I like her even more for liking it.

“Okay,” she says. “When I was ten, I tried to pierce my own ear with a sewing needle. I got it halfway through, and then I passed out. Nobody was home, so nobody found me. I just woke up, with this needle halfway in my ear, drops of blood all over my shirt. I pulled the needle out, cleaned up, and never tried it again. It wasn’t until I was fourteen that I went to the mall with my mom and got my ears pierced for real. She had no idea. How about you?”

There are so many lives to choose from, although I don’t remember most of them.

I also don’t remember whether Ahn Yujin has pierced ears or not, so it won’t be an ear-piercing memory.

“I stole Judy Blume’s Forever from my sister when I was eight,” I say. “I figured if it was by the author of Superfudge, it had to be good. Well, I soon realized why she kept it under her bed. I’m not sure I understood it all, but I thought it was unfair that the boy would name his, um, organ, and the girl wouldn’t name hers. So I decided to give mine a name.”

Hanni is laughing. “What was its name?”

“Helena. I introduced everyone to her at dinner that night. It went over really well.”

We’re at my car. Hanni doesn’t know it’s my car, but it’s the farthest car, so it’s not like we can keep walking.

“It was great to meet you,” she says. “Hopefully, I’ll see you around next year.”

“Yeah,” I say, “it was great to meet you, too.”

I thank her about five different ways. Then Minji drives over and honks.

Our time is up.

Ahn Yujin’s parents haven’t called the police. They haven’t even gotten home yet. I check the house phone’s voicemail, but the school hasn’t called.

It’s the one lucky thing that’s happened all day.

Day 5998

Something is wrong the minute I wake up the next morning. Something chemical.

It’s barely even morning. This body has slept until noon. Because this body was up late, getting high. And now it wants to be high again. Right away.

I’ve been in the body of a pothead before. I’ve woken up still drunk from the night before. But this is worse. Much worse.

There will be no school for me today. There will be no parents waking me up. I am on my own, in a dirty room, sprawled on a dirty mattress with a blanket that looks like it was stolen from a child. I can hear other people yelling in other rooms of the house.

There comes a time when the body takes over the life. There comes a time when the body’s urges, the body’s needs, dictate the life. You have no idea you are giving the body the key. But you hand it over. And then it’s in control. You mess with the wiring and the wiring takes charge.

I have only had glimpses of this before. Now I really feel it. I can feel my mind immediately combating the body. But it’s not easy. I cannot sense pleasure. I have to cling to the memory of it. I have to cling to the knowledge that I am only here for one day, and I have to make it through.

I try to go back to sleep, but the body won’t let me. The body is awake now, and it knows what it wants.

I know what I have to do, even though I don’t really know what’s going on. Even though I have not been in this situation before, I have been in situations before where it’s been me against the body. I have been ill, seriously ill, and the only thing to do is to power through the day. At first I thought there was something I could do within a single day that could make everything better. But very soon I learned my own limitations. Bodies cannot be changed in a day, especially not when the real mind isn’t in charge.

I don’t want to leave the room. If I leave the room, anything and anyone can happen. Desperately, I look around for something to help me through. There is a decrepit bookshelf, and on it is a selection of old paperbacks. These will save me, I decide. I open up an old thriller and focus on the first line. Darkness had descended on Manassas, Virginia.

…

The body does not want to read. The body is alive with electric barbed wire. The body is telling me there is only one way to fix this, only one way to end the pain, only one way to feel better. The body will kill me if I don’t listen to it. The body is screaming. The body demands its own form of logic.

I read the next sentence.

I lock the door.

I read the third sentence.

The body fights back. My hand shakes. My vision blurs.

I am not sure I have the strength to resist this.

I have to convince myself that Hanni is on the other side. I have to convince myself that this isn’t a pointless life, even though the body is telling me it is.

The body has obliterated its memories in order to hone its argument. There isn’t much for me to access. I must rely on my own memories, the ones that are separate from this.

I must remain separate from this.

I read the next sentence, then the next sentence. I don’t even care about the story. I am moving from word to word, fighting the body from word to word.

It’s not working. The body makes me feel like it wants to defecate and vomit. First in the usual way. Then I feel I want to defecate through my mouth and vomit through the other end. Everything is being mangled. I want to claw at the walls. I want to scream. I want to punch myself repeatedly.

I have to imagine my mind as something physical, something that can control the body. I have to picture my mind holding the body down.

I read another sentence.

Then another.

There is pounding on the door. I scream that I’m reading.

They leave me alone.

I don’t have what they want in this room.

They have what I want outside this room.

I must not leave this room.

I must not let the body out of this room.

I imagine her walking the hallways. I imagine her sitting next to me. I imagine her eyes meeting mine.

Then I imagine her getting in her car, and I stop.

The body is infecting me. I am getting angry. Angry that I am here. Angry that this is my life. Angry that so many things are impossible.

Angry at myself.

Don’t you want it to stop? the body asks.

I must push myself as far away from the body as I can.

Even as I’m in it.

I have to go to the bathroom. I really have to go to the bathroom.

Finally, I pee in a soda bottle. It splashes all over.

But it’s better than leaving this room.

If I leave the room, I will not be able to stop the body from getting what it wants.

I am ninety pages into the book. I can’t remember any of it.

Word by word.

The fight is exhausting the body.

I am winning.

It is a mistake to think of the body as a vessel. It is as active as any mind, as any soul. And the more you give yourself to it, the harder your life will be. I have been in the bodies of starvers and purgers, gluttons and addicts. They all think their actions make their lives more desirable. But the body always defeats them in the end.

I just need to make sure the defeat doesn’t take while I’m inside.

I make it to sundown. Two hundred sixty-five pages gone. I am shivering under the filthy blanket. I don’t know if it’s the temperature in the room or if it’s me.

Almost there, I tell myself.

There is only one way out of this, the body tells me.

At this point, I don’t know if it means drugs or death.

The body might not even care, at this point.

Finally, the body wants to sleep.

I let it.

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