#& grades are supposed to be finalized by tomorrow

[lannisterdaddyissues]

god why am i so fucking stupid. having adhd is truly a curse and i hate bearing it

[wolfowls]

....

[gotta-bail-my-quails]

the curse of confidence strikes again

[mmegwrld]

ꪆৎ ೃ࿔* INTO YOU + jeon jungkook

you get assigned to tutor the meanest guy you’ve ever met, jeon jungkook. he pushes away, not accepting your help. until he finally gives in.

word count : 3.7k

genre : angst! happy ending :-)

warnings : guys i’m sorry it’s so angsty AGAIN WTF, hurt.. comfort, mean boy jk + sweetheart reader! crying,, JK IS AN ASSHOLE!! LIKE THE WHOLEEEE TIME!! i was listening to just one day the whole time while writing so 💪 can you guys tell i like ariana by the titles 😭😭

a/n : guys IK… IM KIND OF LATE ON MY UPLOADING OOPPSSSS!! i lowkey hate this but i have no other ideas in mind 🏋🏽‍♀️💤💐🌞 and THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD!!

masterlist

you walk into professor kim’s lecture room, smiling at him as you walk up, “good afternoon, miss (last name). i would like you to tutor one of your classmates,” he says.

you nod, “who?” professor kim looks behind you, “jeon jungkook, you’ll be getting tutored with (name), twice a week. no exceptions,” his voice booms. you turn around, seeing a boy in the seat with his legs up and hood up. like he owned the place.

he doesn’t even look up before muttering a small, “cool.” you blink, “we can meet at the library tomorrow!” you say sweetly. jungkook looks up at you, “okay.”

“we should exchange numbers! just in case you need to skip one,” you whisper the last part. jungkook shrugs, “okay. give me your phone,” he puts out his hand. you unlock your phone and hand it to him.

about two seconds later, he hands the phone back. he looks back at his phone, “don’t waste your time,” he mutters. you tilt your head, “what?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly. jungkook glances to you, “i’m not showing up to that. so, don’t waste your time.”

he was serious. it was tuesday afternoon, 4:15pm and an empty library table. you checked the clock at 3. than 3:30. than 4. you sigh no sign of jungkook. this was your third session, the second one he missed. he’s only went to the first one so far, which he showed up 30 minutes late too, didn’t bring his books and spent the entire time on his phone.

just like usual, you were patient. you texted him after the missed session.

hey, missed you today! :-) hope everything’s good. wanna reschedule again? read.

you sigh and get up, packing your books. you walk out of the library.

the next day, you wait for him outside of his classroom. you thought you were doing right by seeing if anything is wrong with him.

the hallways buzz with voices and backpacks zipping. you look down at your shoes as jungkook walks out. your eyes follow him, “jungkook!”

he doesn’t spot walking, he doesn’t even look at you. you catch up to his pace, “hey! you okay? we need to talk,” you smile up at him.

he continues to walk, “no we don’t,” he mutters. you pout and sigh softly, “you’ve missed almost every session, i’ve texted you and—“ jungkook looks at you finally with a dry laugh.

“yeah, i seen. real persistent, aren’t you?” he asks, like a mean boy. you blink again, “is that supposed to be funny?” jungkook stops walking, turning to you fully now.

“look. you don’t need to play your little sweet girl act with me. i’m not some charity case you get extra credit for helping,” he says. you face fell, like truly. you shake your head, “no! no! i didn’t mean it like that. that’s not what this is about.”

“than what is it?” he snaps. you stare up at him with a small frown, “you don’t even know me. you’re wasting your time chasing after somebody who doesn’t want to be fixed.”

you look around, “it-it’s just tutoring sessions.. i didn’t— jungkook—“ you take a deep breath, looking down at your twisted hands. “i never said you needed fixing, i’m just trying to help you with your grade.”

“yeah? than why are you bothering me so much about it?” his voice lowers. you stay silent as he scoffs and walks away. you stare at him.

what? why is he so mad? it’s only tutoring sessions.

jungkook shakes his head as he walks away from you. who the fuck do you think you are? the perfect sweet girl of your grade?

jimin catches up with jungkook, staring at him with raised brows. jungkook looks at him, “what?” jimin sighs, “you don’t have to be so mean to (name). you’re such an asshole sometimes.”

jungkook pauses, irritated already, “what are you talking about?” jimin shrugs, “(name). you’re being mean to her… it’s just tutoring sessions.”

“i’m not some charity case so she can stick up to mr kim. she keeps texting me like i need help… like i’m some type of project,” he shakes his head.

“she’s just trying to help you with school work! why do you hate her so much? she’s being nice to you,” jimin scoffs. jungkook clenches his jaw, “i don’t need her pity, jimin.”

“it’s not pity, it’s being a selfless person. you think your grades are gonna go up if you’re being a jerk to your tutor?” jimin adds. jungkook stays quiet, “whatever…” he mumbles.

can’t come today, helping my mom.

jungkook said he would show up. he told you to meet at the library at 5. you groan, feeling truly irritated for the first time in ages. you shove your stuff into your bag again. you sigh deeply as you walk out of the library.

you take a shortcut to your dorm, walking past the cafe. you turn your head, freezing. you see jungkook with a girl. a pretty girl, sitting across from him laughing.

he didn’t see you, but you saw everything. the way he was smiling at her, that stupid fucking sideways smile. leaning in whenever she said something. he was enjoying himself. he didn’t look cold, detached, the jungkook who speaks to you.

your heart twists, you now felt defeated.

you shake your head, quickly walking to your dorm. helping his mom? are you serious?

the week after, you sat in the library. it wasn’t a day to tutor jungkook so you were alone. you write down your essay, listening to old ariana grande as you puff out your hot cheeks.

you feel a presence in front of you. you glance up seeing jungkook. you don’t say anything, still writing your essay. he huffs, “hey.”

you hum, “hi.” he furrows his brows, “so? it’s our day—“

“it’s not actually. so you can leave if you want to,” you cut him off. jungkook scoffs, like always. “so the one day i show up with my shit you don’t wanna teach me?”

you slam the pencil, “oh.. i’m sorry— you told me you were busy helping your mom,” you said. he shakes his head, “what? i was.” you fake smile, “oh really? because i saw you… with that girl.”

the guilt hit him like a punch to the gut. he opens his mouth, “and?”

“and? you told me… you couldn’t come to the session. because of your mom.” you say again.

“why did you lie to me? why would you even agree with professor kim to get a tutor?” you stare at him. he stares back, “i don’t owe you an explanation, (name). you’re not my girlfriend. i don’t have to tell you anything,” he shrugs.

you narrow your eyes, “you’re such a fucking asshole, do you know that? why are you so fucking mean to me?! i have done nothing but be nice to you. i don’t even fucking talk to you.”

“don’t act like you’re an innocent victim.”

“i’m not acting like a victim, jungkook. you keep blowing me off, keep pushing me around—“

“you think you’re special?” he leans closer to you. your head spins, “i told you not to waste your time. you wanna know why i hate you (name)? you’re such an angel and it makes me want to throw up. i hate the way you make me feel vulnerable, small— less than you. you have always— always tried to help me. for what?”

you stare at him with sad furrowed brows, your lip quivering a bit. he continues to talk, “every time you try to help me, it reminds me how i can’t be. i will never be good for anybody and the one time i found somebody— you— somebody to fucking help me… i don’t want them near me.”

“i don’t want you to speak to me ever again. i don’t want your fucking tutor sessions— i don’t want your fucking help with anything! seeing you try so hard makes me so fucking mad. you make me feel pitied and that pisses me off more than anything.”

you watch him walk away, your hands trembling. is that how you made people felt? you didn’t mean to.

your intentions are good, you know that. why couldn’t he just— a choked sob comes out your throat. you thank God that you’re in the back of the library so nobody can see you crying.

you fidget with your nails as tears spill down your eyes. you grab your stuff and walk out the library.

it’s been weeks since you and jungkook have last spoke and it was horrible. you stopped talking much, you didn’t want others to be a burden. what if somebody really does feel like that?

it was halloween night, almost midnight when your phone rang. unknown number? you groan softly.

“hello?” you say softly. it was silent for a moment. a slurred voice spoke, “(name)? angel?”

your chest tightens, “jungkook?” you ask. you felt your head start to hurt, “you picked up.”

you heard music, talking, wind. he was at the party, obviously. you sigh, “didn’t think you would…” he slurs. you stay quiet before speaking up again, “are you okay?”

he didn’t answer instead he laughs softly— sad, kind of bitter. “you’ve always… i hate how fucking sweet you are. i don’t hate it. i love your sweetness. i love the way you say my name. i love the way you talk, laugh.”

you sit on your bed, staring at your covers. you were shocked… a little mad, sad.

“jung—“

“you’re different like why did you pick up? i don’t know what your deal is like i’m a dick to you but you pick up my drunk calls! i blow you off and act like a dick. but you’re so nice to me, everytime.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, “i know you’re not mean though,” you mumble softly. there was another pause, “that’s what scares me.”

you stand by your window, looking at the moon, “what scares you?” “you see me while i can’t even see myself,” his voice slows down, still slurred but more serious.

“and i don’t know how to talk to you. you’re so soft and light. i dunno how to be around that,” he frowns to himself. your heart cracks open a little, “you don’t have to be anything around me.”

“i think about you… all the time. i cannot believe i talked to you like that. i’m such an asshole… i made you fucking cry,” he shakes his head.

“you’re drunk,” you say gently. “doesn’t make it less true.”

you grab your hoodie, “where are you?”

“i’m at blake’s party. i left it so im actually on some bench in the quad. i hated it… everybody’s so fake… besides jimin… jin… suga… hobi… tae… joon… and you. i don’t wanna be with them though— i wanna be around you.”

you sigh, “im coming.”

you hug your hoodie tight as you walk around the quad. and then— there he was. slumped on a bench under a glow of the streetlight, head tilted, hoodie slipping off. his legs were stretched out, tapping his food against the pavement like he was trying to stay awake.

you walk up, “jungkook?” you say quietly. his head lolls to the side. his eyes were glassy, unfocused. but when they landed on you, they had a flash of something. shame. surprise. relief.

“you actually came,” he said, like it shocked him more then the cold air. you sit next to him, “why wouldn’t i?” his eyes follow your figure. he stares at you like you aren’t real.

“let’s go back, okay?” you help him up. he doesn’t argue, finally. he leans against you, the smell of alcohol clinging onto him. as you two walk to your dorm, he mumbles something you almost didn’t understand.

“i don’t get you,” his heavy slurred words. “you’re not like… everybody.”

you lay him on the bed. you make a face. his outside clothes on the bed. you sigh as you make your way to the couch.

the morning after, jungkook woke up in a… girl’s room?! oh hell no— did he fuck somebody? you walk in, your hoodie hanging right above your levi jeans.

you glance at him, “morning,” you smile softly. he stares at you, “what happened?” he croaks. you give him a bottle of water and some advil. you sit on the bed, “you called me. drunk… at midnight.”

he blinks, “right. sorry.”

you watch his expression for a second. he was finally more soft. “you said some stuff… and it makes me feel a certain way now.”

he looks at you, “i know.. im sorry.”

you bite your tongue, “i have class. text me again if you wanna try again. with tutoring.”

you grab your keys and began to walk out. jungkook calls out for you.

you turn around, “hm?” “thank you for picking up..” he says softly. you smile, “anytime.”

it’s been three days since the drunk call. he hasn’t texted… so you didn’t either. it was the friday before spring break and you walk into the library to study for a exam. you walk to your usual table, seeing him. hoodie on. headphones off. a pen between his fingers, flipping it anxiously.

you froze in the aisle, just looking at him. he didn’t notice you at first— his eyes were hooked on some drawing. than he looks up.

“hey,” he says quietly. you sat down, “you’re here?” he nods, “i— i figured i can try today.” you didn’t reply, silence filled the conversation.

you hum, “kay.”

silence again.

he broke it, “i remember what i said that night.” he looks at you, those fucking boba eyes. your heart thumps, “okay.” he sighs.

he stares at you, like really. no irritation, pushing… just scared. he shakes his head, “i didn’t mean to dump that all on you.. i was so drunk. but not wrong.” you stay still, giving him time to say what he needs to.

“you’re right by the way,” he adds. “i do care but i don’t know how to without ruining it.” you exhale, the tension loosening in your chest, “you don’t have to figure it all out at once.”

he swallows hard, “do.. is it too late?”

“for what?”

“for a redo.”

your voice comes out soft, “no.. but if you wanna get tutored. show up and show up for real.” jungkook nods slowly, “i will. i just don’t know how to accept help like that.”

“we’ll figure it out,” you reply. he nods again, “i wanna take you on a date. tomorrow.” he blurts out. you wide your eyes, “oh! will you show up?” you laugh softly. he nods with a sideways smile, “i’ll be there.”

“okay. date tomorrow it is than.”

[afterheese]

The Pressure Point - Kim Sunoo x F!Reader

It was like you couldn’t get rid of him. No matter how hard you tried to avoid him, he always found a way to be close to you. Sunoo didn’t understand boundaries.

cw : dark!sunoo, noncon to dubcon, and reader gets drugged.

word count : 4.7k

It was like you couldn’t get rid of him. No matter how hard you tried to avoid him, he always found a way to be close whether it was sitting next to you in class or suddenly joining the debate team, the one you were captain of. It became so unbearable that you quit all your clubs, hoping he’d finally back off. But it didn’t work.

Sunoo didn’t understand boundaries.

At first, it was subtle. His fingers brushing your thigh under the desk. His hand sweeping your hair aside when you were trying to take notes, murmuring something meaningless just to make you flinch. You tried to be gracious. Tried to tell yourself he was just overly friendly, maybe socially awkward. Still, your skin would crawl every time.

Then he asked you out. You said no, as kindly as you could. Told him you weren’t looking for anything right now, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone. But he didn’t. If anything, the rejection made things worse.

The light touches became pinches. Sometimes, he’d dig the end of his pen into your thigh when no one was looking. The soft strokes in your hair turned into sharp tugs that left your scalp sore. He was smart about it, always careful, always watching for when no one else was paying attention. You tried to report it. You asked to move seats and told your teacher what had been happening. But she didn’t believe you. “Sunoo isn’t like that,” she said, her tone almost pitying. “You’re probably just misreading the situation.”

But you weren’t.

“Okay, guys!” Mrs. Choi yelled over the noise, finally getting the class to quiet down. “It’s time to talk about your end-of-term project. It’s worth 55% of your final grade, so I suggest you listen up.” It was supposed to be important something you should’ve been paying attention to but you couldn’t. Not with Sunoo sitting beside you, his hand constantly brushing against your thigh again, fingertips tapping too close, too deliberately. You shifted away, but he only leaned in further. Then his fingers slid higher. That was it. You snapped.

Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist and slammed it down hard against the desk. The sound echoed in the stunned silence, and you stared him dead in the eyes. “Fucking stop it,” you hissed. You didn’t even realize how loud you’d been until Mrs. Choi called your name from the front of the room. “Is everything… okay?” she asked, eyebrows raised, the whole class now staring at you.

Heart racing, you quickly let go of Sunoo’s wrist and muttered, “Yeah. Everything’s fine.” Mrs. Choi didn’t press further. “Alright, then. Back to what I was saying it’s a duo project, and you’ll be working with your desk partner.” Your stomach dropped. You turned slowly to look at Sunoo—but he was already staring at you, a slow, eerie smile creeping onto his face. “This is going to be so much fun,” he whispered, voice low and unsettling.

You were counting down the seconds to the final bell, watching the clock like your life depended on it. As soon as the shrill ring echoed through the halls, you shot up from your seat, grabbing your bag in one swift motion, hoping to slip out before Sunoo noticed. You didn’t even make it out of your desk before his hand shot out and grabbed your upper arm, stopping you cold. His grip was firm, fingers pressing just a little too tight.

“Let’s head over to your house,” he said casually, “get started on the project.” You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice steady. “Sunoo… can we start working on it tomorrow?” You needed time. Time to talk to Mrs. Choi again. Time to figure out anything that might get you out of this situation. Sunoo smiled that same sweet smile that made everyone believe he was harmless. An angel. “No,” he said shortly, his tone clipped. “Let’s go now, okay?” He nodded once, like the matter was settled. You tried again, standing your ground. “Sunoo, I can’t today. Let’s do it tomorrow, I have tutoring later.”

He clicked his tongue in disapproval, shaking his head slowly. “I never took you for a liar,” he said, his voice dropping as he stepped closer. “And a terrible one at that.” Your stomach dropped. “What?” you asked, already regretting it. “You quit tutoring last week, didn’t you?” he said with a laugh, sharp and too loud for the nearly empty classroom. Your eyes widened. “Sunoo… how do you know that?”

He leaned in, close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin. “Because I pay attention to things that I like,” he whispered. The way he said it made your insides twist. The words weren’t sweet. They weren’t romantic. They were wrong—possessive and cold, like he truly believed it. “Okay,” he said, standing up straight again, smile returning like a mask sliding back into place. “If you’re done with your little performance, let’s head to your house, yeah? Right, love?”

And just like that, he walked out of the classroom. You stood frozen for a moment, unsure what to do. Your mind screamed at you to run, but your body moved on autopilot, trailing after him in silence.

The hallways were mostly empty now, echoing with the distant slams of lockers and a few lingering voices. He held the door open for you like a gentleman, like none of the past ten minutes had happened. The sun was already beginning to dip, casting long shadows across the courtyard. Everything looked normal. And yet it wasn’t. As you stepped outside, the breeze hit you, warm and sticky. You could hear the chatter of a few students still hanging around the front gates, the roar of a distant engine, the hum of summer insects in the trees.

It should’ve felt like freedom. But every step away from the school felt heavier. Sunoo didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His presence beside you said enough. And when you glanced up, you realized with horror that he wasn’t checking for directions. He wasn’t waiting for you to lead. He already knew the way. He took every turn effortlessly. Walked with purpose. Like he'd done it before. How many times has he followed me home? you wondered, a sick feeling blooming in your stomach.

Your skin crawled as your house came into view, and you still didn’t know what you were going to do. But it was already too late. He was two steps ahead.

You thought you were going to throw up by the time you reached your front door. Your hands were shaking as you reached for your keys, but Sunoo stepped to the side, letting you unlock it like a gentleman, like he hadn’t just cornered you into this. Before you could even dig your keys out of your bag, the door swung open from the inside. Your mom stepped out, purse on her shoulder and keys in hand. Relief hit you hard. She’s home. For a brief, flickering moment, you thought maybe things would be okay. Sunoo wouldn’t try anything with her here.

“Hey, love!” she said brightly, leaning in to give you a quick hug. “I just got called in for work total emergency. I won’t be home tonight. I left money on the coffee table if you want to order pizza or something, okay?” My breath caught in my throat. She didn’t notice. She kissed your temple and turned toward the car, already halfway down the porch steps.

You opened your mouth to say something, to stop her, to beg her to stay, but before you could get a word out, she paused and glanced back toward the door. “Oh!” she said, eyes landing on Sunoo. “Is that your boyfriend?” You spun around, panic in your chest. “No—” “Yes,” Sunoo cut in smoothly, smiling with perfect ease. Your mom laughed, visibly delighted. “Finally! I thought she was going to turn twenty without ever having a boyfriend.” She winked at you like it was a joke, like she hadn’t just handed you over to a nightmare.

He laughed softly, as if there was nothing wrong with any of this. Your eyes stayed wide, unblinking. “Okay! I’ve really gotta run,” your mom said, stepping into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. “You two have fun, okay? Don’t burn the house down.” And just like that, she was gone. Off to work, completely unaware of the terror curling inside your chest. As her car disappeared down the street, Sunoo turned to you with that same slow, knowing smile. “Looks like it’s just the two of us tonight,” he said.

Then, without waiting for an invitation, he brushed past you and stepped inside—like he’d done it a hundred times before. Like he lived here. You stood frozen in the doorway, heart pounding in your ears. Oh god was all your mind could muster.

You stepped inside and closed the door behind you—but didn’t lock it. Just in case you had to run. Paranoid? Maybe. But being alone in a house with Sunoo made your skin crawl. You didn’t trust him. Not even a little. He wandered casually through the living room, picking up framed family photos like he belonged there. “Wow,” he said with a faint smile, examining one of them. “There’s so many of you... You looked so cute here.” His finger brushed the glass, lingering too long, before he gently set it down and turned to face you.

You hadn’t moved from where you stood by the door. “Let’s get started,” he said lightly, then without asking, headed up the stairs.

Your body went rigid. Where is he going? You rushed to follow. “Sunoo—where are you going?” He didn’t answer. When you reached the top of the stairs, you found him standing in front of your bedroom door. There was nothing on it. No nameplate. No decorations. Nothing to suggest it was yours. Your stomach dropped. How does he know? Before you could even voice the question, he opened the door and walked in like it was the most natural thing in the world. You followed him slowly, unease prickling at the back of your neck.

He was already seated on your bed, fingertips ghosting over your pillows like he was savoring the feel of them. Trying to ignore the nausea curling in your gut, you sat at your desk your back to him and pulled out your laptop. “What topic do you want the project to be on?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even. You didn’t dare turn around.

There was a pause. Then a soft “Hmm...” And the creak of your bed as he stood up. Even without looking, you could feel him creeping up behind you. You felt it. The temperature in the room shifted. A bead of sweat slid down the back of your neck as your breath caught in your throat. And then his hands were on your shoulders.

“Not so fast, we should talk a bit first.” he whispered, his voice too close. You snapped. You grabbed his wrist—again. This is becoming a habit, you thought bitterly. “Get your hands off me, Sunoo,” you said, sharp and steady. “I’m not interested in you like that. Can you take a hint, please? Stop—and let’s just focus on the project.”

His smile faltered. For a second, his eyes darkened, jaw clenching like he might do something. But then… he blinked, and it was gone. Replaced by that same sickly sweet grin. “Okay,” he said too easily. “Whatever you say.” You stood up before he could speak again. “I’ll go get us some water and snacks,” you muttered, needing a reason to leave the room. To breathe. You didn’t wait for a response.

You walked down the stairs quickly, gripped the edge of the kitchen counter with both hands, and tried to steady your racing heart.

You stood in the kitchen, the cool hum of the fridge doing little to quiet the thud of your heartbeat. Your fingers fumbled as you grabbed two bottles of water from the bottom shelf. Your chest heaved, each breath dragging through the weight of fear. Just a project, you reminded yourself. Get through this. Keep your head down. Don’t give him anything else to twist. You opened the drawer and pulled out a bag of chips, hands shaking slightly as you tried to reseal the drawer as quietly as possible.

You didn’t want to go back up there. You didn’t want to see what he might be doing while you were gone. With one last deep breath, you forced yourself to move. You padded toward the stairs, each step heavier than the last, bottles gripped too tightly in your hands.

The door creaked open, and your body locked up on instinct. Sunoo was standing by your bookshelf, holding something in his hands. As you stepped closer, your heart skipped, he was reading your diary. He hadn’t even noticed you come in. Without thinking, you snatched it from him. “Don’t touch that. It’s personal.” He turned slowly, feigning innocence. “Oh, I didn’t know.” But the way he said it made your skin crawl, you could tell he was lying. Not wanting to escalate things further, you took a small step back, clutching your diary. “Let’s just get to work.”

The two of you finally sat down and, after two painfully long hours, managed to settle on a project topic: culture. You were halfway through drafting the introduction when you finished typing the last line: “That’s why it’s important to learn about your culture and connect with your family.” You sighed, uncapped your water bottle, and took a sip. “I’ll be right back—just going to the bathroom.”

You were only gone for three minutes. When you came back, you sat down at your desk again, leaning back in your chair and taking a longer drink this time, hoping it would help settle your nerves. You turned slightly toward Sunoo, ready to say, We can stop here for today… when your vision suddenly blurred. Your mouth went dry. Your limbs felt heavy.

Something was wrong. You blinked hard, trying to focus, but everything was spinning. Your eyes struggled to stay open as a wave of nausea hit you. From somewhere behind you, Sunoo’s voice drifted through the fog in your head. “That was fast…” You couldn’t hear the rest. Your fingers slipped from the armrest as your body collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud. You tried to focus, to speak, but your tongue was thick and the darkness crept in fast. 

The first thing you noticed was how cold you were. You didn’t see it. You felt it, hands moving slowly over your skin, light enough to raise goosebumps. You heard a voice near your ear say, “So soft,” and that jolted you awake. A groan slipped out as you opened your eyes, and what you saw sent a shock straight through your body. Sunoo was kneeling between your thighs. His hands were on you, touching you where no one should be. You screamed. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

You tried to sit up, to shove him away, but your arms didn’t move. That was when you realized your wrists were tied and a cold wave of fear crashed over you. Pink ribbon bound your hands to the bedpost. Your breath caught. Did he bring those with him? Sunoo didn’t look surprised or guilty. He didn’t even flinch at your screaming. He just looked up at you with that same smile—the one that always fooled everyone else. “I thought this would help us get closer.” he said simply. And in that moment, the fear fully set in. He’d planned this. All of it.

You were too stunned to speak. You didn’t know what he had planned and you didn’t want to find out. So distracted, you didn’t even notice his hands rubbing your thighs, moving toward the belt of your jeans, undoing it. You tried to buck him off, but he pinned your hips to the bed, staring at you with an evil gleam in his eyes. "If you try that shit again, you won’t like it," he warned. You were paralyzed in place, heart pounding. He smiled, as if he hadn’t just threatened you, and returned to the waistband of your jeans, slowly sliding them down your legs almost like this was some romantic scene between lovers.

You finally manage to slide them off, his fingers trailing gently up the length of your legs. “So soft,” he murmurs, like he’s been imagining this moment forever. When his eyes meet yours, they are full of reverence, a quiet hunger wrapped in wonder. You flinch, breath catching. “Sunoo…” His name comes out shaky, like saying it might stop what’s coming. But his hands are already on your waist, steady and sure. He pulls you down just a little just enough to take what he wants next.

“Relax,” he says softly, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. You tense, instinctively clamping your thighs shut. His gaze flicks up. “Don’t,” he warns, his voice calm but edged with command. You swallow hard, fear choking your words. “Sunoo, this isn’t right. Stop… please.” His lips barely brush your ear. “You don’t get it, do you?” he says sweetly. “I’ve been dreaming of this for so long. You were always going to be mine.” You’ve always known Sunoo liked you, maybe a little too much. But you never imagined it would turn into this. You try to speak, to make him hear you, but he isn’t even looking at your face. His eyes are fixed lower, hands already working to strip away your last line of defense.

His hand presses against you through the fabric, firm, deliberate, and you gasp. You squirm against his touch, trying to twist away, just enough to pretend you still have control. “You can say no all you want,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers along your thigh. “But I can feel how wet you are. Your body’s already telling me yes.” His fingers hook into the top of your underwear, starting to tug it down. You instinctively clamp your thighs together, desperate to protect what little you have left. But then—Crack. Your head snaps to the side from the slap, sharp and sudden. “That was your fault,” he says, calmly. “If you had just listened, I wouldn’t have had to do that.”

You stay silent this time. Your mind slips away, retreating into a cold, distant place where nothing hurts, where you can watch without feeling. The room grows hazy around the edges, and your body moves on its own, trapped in a nightmare you can’t wake from. You aren’t risking pushing him further. You aren’t even sure you’re really there anymore.

No matter how much I tried to detach from the situation, I wasn’t prepared. His fingers were inside me, moving slowly, working me open with an achingly deliberate rhythm. I bit my lip, trying to stay quiet, trying not to let him know how much he was affecting me. But he did . “You don’t have to be quiet,” he says, voice low and unbearably calm. It doesn’t feel like a suggestion. It feels like he’s already made the decision for you.

You turn your face away, unsure if it’s shame or hesitation. His hand follows. Fingers leaving you just long enough to tip your chin toward him again, thumb brushing your jaw. “No, no,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. “I need those pretty eyes on me.” And you look. Not because you’re ready. Not because you want to. But because it’s easier than pretending you don’t feel this. Easier than pretending your body isn’t betraying you.

Then his fingers are back, deeper this time, his thumb pressing against your clit with a softness that undoes you more than anything else could. Your body tenses, thighs trembling. You’re trying to hold it in, you really are. But he feels it. The way your breath shudders. The way your hips twitch. “You’re close,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Yes, baby… fall apart for me.” And you do. Whether you meant to or not. You fall apart with his name caught behind your teeth.

He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, leaving you feeling suddenly empty. The absence made you clench instinctively, a whimper caught in your throat before you could stop it. Then, without breaking eye contact, he brought those same fingers to his mouth—sucking on them like you were something sweet, something he meant to savor. His gaze dropped to you, to the mess he’d made, and his smirk deepened.

You tugged at the restraints around your wrists, testing them again even though you already knew it was useless. You were bound, and he wasn’t going to let you go. His hand moved to your shirt, fingers curling into the fabric. With one sudden, sharp motion, he tore it open, buttons scattering to the floor. Your bra offered little protection, and he wasted no time tugging the cups down, exposing you fully. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, hands cupping your breasts, kneading them slowly. He rolled your nipples between his fingers, pinching and playing until they stood hard and flushed. You shivered beneath his touch, every nerve ending heightened, your breath coming faster than you wanted to admit.

Before I could breathe, he leaned down and kissed you. As if you were lovers. As if he wasn’t a madman with his hands all over you, your wrists tied and your body trembling from what he'd already done. His lips lingered on yours like he was trying to memorize the taste of you. It felt… wrong. You didn’t kiss him back. Your body was already spiraling, and you didn’t trust yourself to move.

But then, without warning, he pinched your nipple hard. You gasped. He took that chance. His tongue pushed past your lips, deep and demanding, forcing you into a kiss you didn’t want. He devoured you with heat, and you could only whimper as he dominated the space between your mouths. When he finally pulled away, a thin string of saliva still connected you.

He sat back on his knees, breathing a little heavier now. Your eyes drifted downward, and that’s when you saw it—he was hard. So hard it strained against the fabric of his pants. He followed your gaze and chuckled.

“Yes, love,” he said, unbuckling his belt with one hand. “This is what you do to me.”

He freed himself, thick and flushed, precum already glistening at the tip. He moved closer, his hand guiding himself until the head was gliding slowly along your slit. You gasped when he tapped your clit with the head once, then again, slow and cruel. Each touch sent heat slicing through you, your thighs twitching, trying not to close around him. 

“Look at you,” he murmured. “Shivering for me already.”

You couldn’t stop the way your body was reacting. No matter how much your mind tried to hold on, your body had already betrayed you, arching into his touch, clenching around the promise of him, aching even as you told yourself you shouldn’t. He noticed, of course. “Don’t worry, babe,” he murmured as he positioned himself at your entrance, his voice low and almost softly. “I’ll be gentle… I swear.”

And then he pushed into you. Slow and steady. Your breath hitched, your back arching instinctively as your hips tried to twist away though you weren’t sure if it was to escape or to meet him halfway.

He caught your hips, holding you still, firmly. When he was fully inside, he didn’t move. He stayed there, breath shaking, as if overwhelmed by the feel of you wrapped around him. “Fuck,” he whispered, leaning over you, his forehead resting against yours. “You feel… too good. Too damn good.” You could feel his breath on your lips, the warmth of it, the intimate in a way that made your heart stutter.

“I wanted to be gentle,” he said softly, like it was a promise he wished he could keep. “But the way you’re squeezing me right now…” He trailed off. And then he began to move. Slow at first—deep, measured strokes that still made you gasp with each press of his hips. He wasn’t cruel, but he wasn’t giving you a chance to forget who was in control, either. Your hands pulled against the restraints, more from instinct than hope.

A whimper slipped from your lips as he shifted his angle, tilting your hips with both hands, lifting you slightly. “There,” he murmured. “Right there…” And when he found that spot inside you that made your entire body tighten, he groaned softly, his pace picking up. And it left you trembling.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes. Not like this, not with your wrists bound, your body exposed, and the sound of his hips meeting yours filling the air in a unsteady rhythm. But he was watching you. “God,” he muttered, his voice low, full of heat, “your tits look so fucking pretty bouncing like that.” He didn’t break his pace deep, unyielding strokes that left your breath catching with every thrust. Each movement sent a ripple through your chest, your skin flushed, nipples tight from his earlier attention. You turned your face away, but you felt the weight of his gaze dragging over every inch of you. Just hungry. Like you were something he’d waited too long to have and now that he did, he wasn't letting go.

You felt the shift in him before he even changed pace. His movements growing faster, deeper, more desperate. Your breath caught. You knew what was coming. “Sunoo… don’t come inside,” you gasped, the words spilling out on instinct, laced with tension you couldn’t hide. He looked down at you, eyes hooded and breathless. For a moment, he didn’t answer.

His voice dipped low, teasing. “We’ll see.” Your chest ached. It was not what he said, but the ease in his voice. The calm that wrapped around you while your body trembled beneath his.  You tried to move, a slight shift of your hips in protest, but it only drew him in deeper. Your body clenched around him, traitorous and too responsive. Your body tensed, then surrendered. The climax dragged you under, hot and absolute. He stayed steady, watching, feeling you lose control around him. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, voice low and reverent, “that’s it, baby… just like that. Cum for me.” He kept going, working you through the aftershocks with slow, deep thrusts that made your thighs tremble. But you could feel him getting closer too. “Please,” you whispered, barely able to catch your breath, “don’t come inside…” He groaned, his hips faltering. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Alright. Not this time.”

And with a shaky breath, he pulled out. The moment he slipped out, your body mourned the loss. You barely had time to react before his hand closed around himself, movements quick and full of intent. Release came seconds later, warm and thick across your skin, your chest and stomach covered in the evidence of him. The afterglow wrapped around you like silk.

You lay there, still bound, skin flushed and cooling, his release sticky on your chest. Your breathing hadn’t even settled yet, and neither had your thoughts. Everything felt disjointed like your body and mind were still trying to catch up to what had just happened. He leaned over you, brushing a strand of hair from your face with the same fingers that had been inside you minutes ago. His touch was oddly gentle, almost tender, and that made it worse somehow.

"Next time," he said, voice soft and sure, "I’ll stay inside. I want you to remember me with every step you take." His words crawled under your skin like heat and ice all at once. You swallowed hard, trying to say something. Anything. But he was already fixing himself up humming softly to himself, the sound casual… almost cheerful. You blinked up at the ceiling, wrists still bound, heart still thudding. And it hit you then. This wasn’t over. You weren’t done. You were just his now and he hadn’t even needed you to say yes.

“Let’s continue the project tomorrow, okay?” he said, turning toward you with that same smile, the one that looked too gentle to belong to someone who had just unraveled you. You nodded slowly, unsure whether he was talking about the assignment… or you.

[venmondiese]

ONE MISSING POINT

-ˋˏ| summary: Failing the class just for one point, and you ask Michael Gavey his help to pass the exam. Tutoring isn't his strenght, neither is yours.

✧ | Pairing: Michael Gavey x reader

✧ | word count: 2.8k

✧ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, public masturbation (m receiving), humilliation, Michael is a virgin and he doesn't last long.

It was practically a tradition that Mr. Bynes posted the results of the class in the (most important) headboard in the whole university, and people practically crowded around the single paper sheet searching for their grades and to see if they were at risk of failing the course entirely. If so, they had to do the mandatory exam which was by no means friendly. 

He isn’t as worried as people around him, trying to make his way in the crowd to see the paper. He had to awkwardly pass through some people crying over it before he could see the paper. 

He approved it all. He expected it, of course, since he always participated and was one of the few who understood something the professor said. Sure, he didn’t have straight 100%, but nothing lower than 80%, which was really good upon seeing some people had more than one 0. 

It was a relief, but again, expected. He shrugs and goes on with his life as he walks away, thinking of going to his dorm and annotating his grades to later on calculate his final average score. 

“Michael! Michael Gavey” a voice calls him, as he sets his feet on the grass. He turns around, seeing you walking closer to him, as quickly as you could. 

“Ehm… yes” he says, awkwardly, looking at you. 

You shared calculus and some other classes, and you were good. Not bright, exceptional or anything, but good. And you were so much better at other things, more social and bold things he doesn’t dare to do. 

“Hi… how did you do?” You ask, slightly out of breath as you try to be polite. 

“Ehm… fine, I guess” he doesn’t get why you talk to him now.

“You passed?” You ask tentatively. “I… I saw your grades, and it was awesome, really impressive…” You hesitate before adding “I am sorry, I know… it’s weird, but… You were like one of the few people who actually passed.”

Michael shrugs. as he nods. “I guess so.”

“And you see…” You say taking his arm to interlock it with hers, as you and your friends did when walking together. It was so womanly, he felt weird. Or maybe everyone did it and he didn’t know…? “I had good grades, I did well in that essay that everyone hated… But I had one test in which I got 40%, because I transferred badly one of the gross numbers, and before you ask, I did calculate it… But since I transferred it wrong, the final value was wrong”

“Ah…” he says, not sure what to say “That sucks”

It didn’t suck. To him, it was like a stupid mistake easily avoidable. 

“Well, I was one point away from pass the course, and I explained this to the professor but… didn’t listen, you know him, he said that one point is missing, so I have to give the exam, and I need like 20%, but still..., and now I desperately come to you to beg you to please help me and tutor me” she says, as she turns to look at him. 

He blinks. He didn’t do tutorings on his free time. He did them for extra money, for credits or whatever reason. 

“Please Mikey!” You say, grabbing his hands. “Please please please, I only needed one more point to pass the class, I know about the subject, and it was a silly mistake. You don't even have to teach me from zero, only... go over the things we studied and that... please!”

He isn’t willing to do this. He doesn’t want to do this, yet he is weak. After all, he is a man. And he isn’t blind, you are pretty. Like out-of-his-league pretty. And you are prettier closer.

“Fine…”

You lean to kiss his cheek with a smile, and you nod. “It’s a date then. Tomorrow in the library? Could it be at four?”

He blinks a few times, trying to process the whole thing. He was supposed to finish the semester quickly, and… now he is caught up trying to teach you so you don’t fail a course, all because his mind betrays him. 

So, he tries to do the whole ordeal as smoothly and quickly as possible. He doesn’t want to do this but whatever. At least you are not dumb on the matter, you know something. He has heard some of the answers you give in the classes, and they weren’t as bad as one would hope. 

He’s sitting at one of the study desks, right beside a large shelf, and the library was with a few other students, concentrated in their own thing. He brought his notes with him, even if it was illegible. He tries not to be impatient, as he checks the clock on his wrist. 

“Sorry for being late, I– I got caught in something and…” You say, and you were breathing a bit heavily. 

“No big deal…” he stutters, as his gaze darts down to your blouse. Logically, since summer was getting closer and closer, you wouldn’t be wearing a sweater, but he didn’t expect… Well, he didn’t know what he expected. 

Why was he being so weak around you?

“Sit, I have my notes to show you…” He says, and so you take a seat by his side as you curiously lean to check his notes. Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly, he was very neat in his handwriting, even if they looked like the handwriting of someone in the 1700s.

You are not such a bad learner, and he was rather enjoying teaching you after some time. You actually heard him, as he explained in depth how to have the correct answer for all, as he tries to address everything.  You asked good questions, and pointed at the mistakes he had given you, to see if you could identify them in an exercise. 

As close as you were, Michael could smell how your perfume was nice. It smelled sweet, but not so much that he would like to throw up. Besides, everytime you stared at him, he could feel a bit uneasy, since he got a bit nervous. Your gaze was deep, and he didn’t know what it meant. 

Clearing his throat, he writes a new problem for you to solve. He had done a lot when studying, so he copied one of his. He hopes that focusing on the study will help him to distract himself from the weird feelings around you. 

“Here, try this one” he says, handing the notebook to you. It is complex, but doable. 

He manages to explain really well, as he gets into the theme and all. You do the work, and slide it over for him to check it. 

“You have a girlfriend, Mikey?” You ask softly. 

He looks at you, before turning back to check the answer. “Eh… no” he mutters, trying not to be ashamed. 

You were actually great, you are very tidy when unfolding the exercise and actually took in his advice, he can see it. Yet, you make the same mistake, you took the gross value as the final one. 

He made a circle, and he was ready to explain. 

“He-Oh” he gasps, feeling your hand on his thigh. He was frozen. 

Maybe it fell onto it. Maybe it was by mistake, it was surely by mistake, there was no way it was intentional. And surely it was a mistake how you caressed his inner thigh so… slowly. 

“Oh, did I get it wrong?” You ask, looking at him as if you didn’t have your hand at his thigh.  

He felt his head doing a short circuit, as if trying to understand what this meant. Was he imagining things? He surely must be. 

“Y-Yes, here… here you took the gross value…” he mutters pathetically, he was confused, he didn’t know what was happening. He wasn’t complaining, at all, but what does that mean?

What did it mean that you had your hand on his thigh? Surely, it was something… reasonable. 

“I’ll re-do it” you say, taking the notebook. And you didn’t take your hand away. 

He was frozen. This can't be happening. He's supposed to be helping you with your studies, not... not whatever this is. And yet, his body is betraying him, his skin tingling under your touch, his pants beginning to feel uncomfortably tight. 

He grips on the edge of the table, looking at the ceiling of the library. Suddenly, he is very aware of his surroundings, looking around as if everyone knew that your hand was sliding up as you did the exercise. Women surely can multitask…

“Eh, well, now… we can use the formula… you-you know it” he says, his throat feeling dry as he tries not to whimper. 

“Yeah, yeah. Like the rosary.” You say with a confident nod.

“Yeah… so, what’s the next step?” He prompts you, as your hand is higher and higher, and he is starting to lose his mind. 

“Replace the values, a… with this, and b…” your hand brushes higher and he lets out a little whimper, thinking you were about to stroke his cock… yet it doesn’t happen. It’s a pathetic sound he emits, and he gets red after it. “With this…”

He sees you replace the values, rewriting the formula, ready to be used.

“Right?” You ask, with one of your sweet smiles as if you didn’t know what was happening. 

“Eh, yeah… yeah, that…” he says, trying not to sound that pleased, even if he starts to feel the arousal pool on his stomach.

He starts to feel himself straining against his pants. It was painfully arousing, and he tried to play it cool. He didn’t want for you to notice, as you caressed his inner thigh.

“I… I need a break” he says suddenly, looking at you. 

You look at him a bit pouty even, as he grips on the edge of the seat trying to breathe in and breathe out. “But I am learning” you say to him “I really am”

You were driving him insane. He didn’t even know if he should address the elephant in the room. Maybe he’ll say something about it, and you’ll stop, be disgusted and leave. 

But he tries to keep inside his whimpers, since the library was the worst place ever to do this. Everyone quiet and it’s open for anyone to see. 

“I think… I..” He hesitates, falling to being able to finish a sentence. He moans softly, feeling your hand brush against his notorious erection, and he can’t bear it anymore. “Ah, please…” 

Michael was blushing, embarrassed of it all as he tries not to move his hips to follow the touch of your hand, since it isn’t where he really needs. How could he be so weak? His cock wasn’t even being touched now, but he felt so dizzy already. Maybe it was because, okay, he had never been with anyone else, but it was… embarrassingly little time to be so… needy. 

When he feels your hand on the tent of his pants, he whimpers, the sound too loud and filthy that his left hand goes instantly to his mouth, covering it to mute himself before he does another embarrassing thing that gives them away. 

“Y-You.. You have to stop” Michael murmurs, the words muffled against his palm as he looks at you, glasses sliding through his nose slightly. He was so flustered, he looked cute. 

“Why?” You ask in a pout, not wanting to. 

“I can’t– I need…” He tries to say, to make a coherent thought as your hand moves to follow the shape of his erection. It sends shivers on his spine and he practically melts on the seat as his eyes are rolled back in pleasure. How could it feel so good? “I… I… We can’t…”

He seems so confused with his own thoughts. “We can…” You murmur, looking around as nobody was actually watching them. “If you really want me to stop… I’ll stop”

Michael doesn’t want you to stop. He really didn’t. But he didn’t want to get caught, it would be embarrassing. 

“We are in public” he says, his eyes searching yours. 

“Yes, I know” you say, not stopping the strokes on his cock above his clothes “But look at how much you like it” 

He’s already made a small, wet patch at the front of his pants. Oh, god, he thinks. He looked away, it felt embarrassing, his face feeling hotter as embarrassment creeped into his gut alongside pleasure. 

He liked it, but he was trembling with a mixture of emotions, and he didn’t know what to think. He was so close too…

“Please…” He begs senselessly, he doesn’t even know why he is begging. “I don’t wanna make a mess…”

Your hand touches him with the clothes in between, but the fabric of his light brown pants was thin, and it felt almost delicious. He would hump your hand if you two weren’t in a library. 

“You are making a mess…” You coax him softly, as he tenses his shoulder and falls slightly against yours, as his body was trembling with arousal. 

“I don’t wanna stain my pants” He murmurs embarrassed, in a little voice as he feels his balls tighten up as your hand insists on the head of his cock, stroking it through the fabric.

“It’s hot” you murmur back to him, and your hand is on the wet patch “And when you cum, I’ll feel it here”

He can’t form a proper sentence as he feels you hand caressing his dick, he felt the wetness on the tip of his cock, and even if it was so unlike him, he found himself so aroused. He is on the verge of cumming on his pants, just from the touch of a woman. Damn, you aren’t even touching his cock directly. 

He felt like a teen, needy and so hormonal. He wasn’t like this fromages ago, and he finds himself leaning on you, his forehead against your shoulder as he whimpers softly, his hips searching your touch as he is close. 

The thought of cumming in his pants, making a mess was both humiliating and arousing, as his body tense with each stroke. “I can't… i… I'm going to…” 

His hand goes to cover his own mouth as he reaches his peak, a strangled moan coming from his throat and his hand muffles the whimpers he lets out. He can feel his cock spurting cum into his underwear and trousers. He doesn’t want to call attention, but he cums so hard, his body basically slumps back in his seat as he feels his balls tighten with each rope of cum that his cock leaks. 

You are awfully quiet afterwards, moving your hand away as you clean it and he tries to gain his breath, feeling dizzy already and so pleased. He wants to hide his face in shame, and the other wants to beg you to do it again. 

“I’m sorry” he murmurs.

“Don’t be” you whisper back to him, looking at his wet spot on his crotch. “To me, it was amazing. You definitely made one of my fantasies come true”

He blushes, he feels very self conscious all of the sudden, and he makes sure no one in the library paid attention to them and what they were doing. He moves slightly as if trying to cover up the wet patch on his jeans. 

“You enjoyed it?” You ask him, not pushing him too hard.

“Yeah…” He admits, slightly embarrassed but also very much pleased. 

You look at the forgotten notebooks, and then to him, as he accommodates on the seat and moves his hair slightly as if that would make him go unnoticed by everyone else.

“If it is worth anything, your tutoring did help me tons” you say, taking your notebooks together to save them in your pack. 

He is glad that he could help. Maybe this was your way of repaying? He couldn’t know or decipher it. He takes his things and saves them up in his bag as well. He wanted to go to his dorm and take a shower, and put on pajamas and think about this. 

“I’m not great with words…” He starts, his tone hesitant but trying to overcome it. “But… Thank you. I really… Hm. It was cool”

You smirk, nodding slightly as you appreciate his words. 

“A bit riské” you tease him playfully.

“Yeah…” he chuckles softly, scratching the back of his neck. “I am a mess”

As he adjust the glasses on his nose, you hum, “Well, nobody really cares but you and me”

“I can’t believe we did… that… in here…” He mumbles, dumb founded. “And I was… so… I completely lost it…”

“Do girls usually make you… lose it?” you ask in a whisper. “Or do you last longer, and I happen to have magical hands?”

He blushes to the blunt question, looking anywhere but to your face as he avoids answering. “Well, um…” he doesn’t want to admit his lack of any experiences with girls “Girls don’t…. touch me like that” he says in a whisper. “So I can’t say…”

You didn’t judge, looking at him, and you nodded.

“Well, next time we’ll see”

Next time. He looks at you with eyes slightly wide, as he tries not to stutter his words. “Next time?”

“Obviously” You say smiling to him. “If I pass the exam, we are doing it without the pants” You say smugly “And… more”

He was so lucky you missed one point to pass the course. 

[wheneverfeasible]

Continued from this, this is for all of you who immediately latched on to Wayne being Steve’s dad’s paramour.

~

Steve reluctantly pulled back from a giggling Eddie, though not before pressing a couple more pecks to his lips, his eyes shining as he took in the way his boyfriend—boyfriend!—looked so good sprawled in his bed in the Munson trailer. He grinned down at him, Eddie’s hair a dark halo, and wondered if telling someone two hours after finally going official after months of fooling around ‘I love you’ was too soon.

But god, Steve felt it every time Eddie popped his dimple at him in a smile reserved just for him. Every time Eddie sweetly murmured some new pet name at him. Every time he’d turn his head to look at Eddie and realize Eddie was already looking right back at him.

He’d never felt this way before, not with anyone. If he had thought he’d been in love before, it was nothing compared to this now.

He hadn’t really known Eddie beyond reputation back before he and his dad had moved into Forest Hills right by the Munsons’ trailer, but he’d been prepared for some laughter and mockery and digs about his fall from grace.

(Which Steve could handle being thrown at him, but after learning about why his parents were getting divorced? He wouldn’t let anyone badmouth his dad.)

Instead of all that, however, Eddie had been cautious and careful, but understanding. They’d stumbled across one another one of those first nights, both stepping out for a cigarette, and then it just sort of became a nightly tradition. They didn’t talk much at first, but then they started talking about anything and everything.

They shared commiseration about their lives being upturned suddenly before moving to the trailer park, discussed the best places in Hawkins to get food, talked about Eddie’s band and his geek club, and even about Steve’s worries about sports and how it had been his mother that kept him on the teams even when his grades fell. Would he even have a space there anymore?

It was nice. And Eddie, dark eyes reflecting the moon and the stars, was beautiful.

A clumsy kiss turned into more, and then it became a regular occurrence for one or the other to fall into the other’s bed together when a parental figure was gone.

And Steve did more than just fall into bed, and unable to contain it anymore, he blurted finally that he liked Eddie a lot and wanted more than just sex with him. Wanted to hold his hands, wanted intimacy that wasn’t sex, wanted to be with him, fully and truly.

Eddie’s entire face had lit up and…well, a very enthusiastic celebration later, Steve regrettably had to return to his own trailer for the night.

“See you tomorrow, baby,” Steve quietly murmured, a dopey little smile on his lips as he watched Eddie squirm with giddiness against his sheets.

“Tomorrow,” Eddie breathed around a smile, and god, what Steve wouldn’t do to crawl back into bed with the man and never let go.

He felt the same giddiness warm in his chest. Maybe it was too early to say those words, but, watching the way Eddie looked back at him, maybe it was okay.

Tomorrow, maybe. If he said the words now, he didn’t think he’d be able to make it back to his own trailer after all.

Obviously this whole sneaking around thing wasn’t entirely necessary, and he was certain both his dad and Eddie’s uncle clocked how close the two of them had become, but it would probably be best not to be seen escaping from the Munson trailer in the morning by anyone else in the park.

So Steve gathered his clothes, gave Eddie one last kiss, and then he was slipping out the trailer and hurrying the short distance it took to get to his own. His dad was supposed to be gone that night, and Wayne was apparently working a night shift, so there shouldn’t be any problem sneaking between the two, which he was thankful for.

Except, as Steve entered the double wide, he came face to bare chest with his father, who was drinking a glass of water in the kitchenette in just his boxers.

“Dad!” he exclaimed, covering his eyes at the sight before remembering he should be covering the hickeys that he could feel already covering his neck from the earlier celebration.

His dad looked just as startled at seeing him, taking in the fact that he was just in his undershirt, his polo having been dropped to the ground in his shock, and the fact that his belt was undone.

“Steve? What are you doing home? I thought you were going to be out tonight with Eddie,” his dad said, and there was a brief edge of panic to his tone that had Steve dropping his hands to look at him in confusion.

Before Steve could open his mouth to say anything, however, a different but recognizable voice came from his father’s bedroom.

“Y’alright, darlin’? Thought I heard—”

Steve’s eyes bugged out of his head as he took in the man who was wearing much less than boxers as he came out of his father’s room looking rumpled with his own red marks on his neck and chest, sporting an expression of satisfied contentment that only came from one thing.

“WAYNE?!”

Later, after regaling Eddie with this horrifying moment, he would have to wait nearly twenty minutes for his boyfriend to stop cackling, and another ten for said boyfriend to barely get out with wheezing breaths, “Does this make us kissing cousins?”

Of course, Steve got Eddie to shut up with a click of his teeth when Steve pointed out he saw both Munson boys’ dicks and threatened to compare them in extensive detail.

“But you like mine the best, don’t you Stevie?” Eddie eventually asked in a small, wheedling tone, his frown deepening at Steve’s silence. “Steve? Stevie? Sweetheart? Baby? Babe? Steve, what dick did you like better?!?”

~

Did I shamelessly rip Steve’s reaction to Wayne the same way I did his reaction to Wayne’s partner in this fic? Absolutely. Little Easter egg for ya. Get it, Uncle Wayne.

Hostage Hotties (open):

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-weirdlife @everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes @hiei-harringtonmunson @estrellami-1 @nebulaoz @renfrisol @tinyplanet95 @hairspraywhore

Bonus tag for also mentioning Wayne: @motherofpirates

[lowkeyerror]

Help With The Curriculum pt 2

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Notes: Smut, strap, dry humping, choking, fingering, 2x use of daddy in non-sexually explicity context, dirty talk, lap-sitting, mentions of edging, mentions of exhibitionlism, mentions of overstimulation, Rio Vidal 😩

Summary: You sit in on one of Agatha’s lectures and enjoy some time with her during passing period... however that time with Agatha might have attracted the attention of someone else.

An: Not promising a fully fledged fic but ill keep posting parts of this until I lose interest. Also couldn't help but add Rio... eventual Rio x Agatha x Reader smut but idk if it'll just be one part or permanent in this fic 🙇‍♀️

Previous Part | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You end up spending Saturday and Sunday at Agatha’s. It wasn’t planned, but it was hard to leave. You already felt so comfortable with the woman. The only reason you found yourself back at home had to do with the papers you were supposed to grade Friday.

You spent most of your Monday grading the work. Images and thoughts of the other professor poked at the back of your mind, but you tried to stay focused. You figured that you could text her as a reward for finishing the grading.

Your phone dings as you’re on the final paper. You think about letting it wait, considering you’re almost done, but it dings again. The impulses get the better of you and you pick it up.

Agatha: I have an 8am tomorrow

Agatha: If you want to sit in on my lecture

You smile, knowing that you’d be in her classroom bright and early to watch her teach.

Y/n: I’ll be there

Agatha: Your class starts 15 after mine ends. It’d probably take you 5 mins to walk over…

Y/n: Probably, why?

Agatha: Well you said you wanted to fuck me in the lecture hall. You think you can get me off in 10 mins?

Y/n: I can do it in 5 ;-)

Agatha: We'll see about that professor

You now had a better reason to look forward to your Tuesday. After those messages you didn't have it in you to further grade the last assignment. You opted to just give that one lucky student an A.

For the rest of the day your mind wandered to how you were going to use those 5 minutes to get Agatha off. You couldn’t help but smile as dirty thoughts filled your head.

You’d be playing mind games from the second you stepped inside of her classroom. Your usual casual classroom attire was being quickly abandoned for something that better fit your title of professor. A grey 3-piece Herringbone suit. You wore your hair back, out of your face.

You had a pocket chain clipped to your pants, while a watch sat on your wrist. There was something special packed in your pants that you planned on using to tease the other professor.

You filed into her classroom with the other students. Opposite to her approach in your classroom, you sat in the back corner of her lecture hall. You wanted her to see you. With your legs spread open and a hand tentatively resting high up on your thigh.

Your other hand held up your head as you locked your eyes on her. When her eyes met yours, you could see them narrow at your appearance. You sent her a polite smile, which you could tell she was fighting not to return.

She briefly welcomed her students back and then  immediately got into the lecture. There was an assertive flip to her character that intrigued you. You could get lost in her tone of speaking. She hardly looked at you, but when she did, you were always readjusting the crotch of your pants.

“Your exam is tomorrow; multiple choice and 3 short answer questions. All of the answers should be in your notes, I’d study them thoroughly. You are dismissed.”

Her classroom cleared much faster than yours had the previous Friday. You had waited for the last student to leave before rising from your seat. You took your time locking the doors to the room, before heading down to Agatha.

You could tell that she had a sly remark on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t get a chance to speak as your lips attacked hers. You were rough as you kissed her, complete disregard for pleasantries.

You pressed her up against the desk. Enough to where she could feel the strap through your pants, she moaned as you slowly rocked your hips. No words were necessary, only the sounds of your breathing.

Your hand reached around her front, eager to plunge into her wetness. Once you make it past her waistband, you have to hold yourself back from taking her bottoms completely off. Her panties are ruined.

“Fuck, I made you this wet, just sitting there? You saw my hand on this big fake cock, and couldn’t help but make a mess of yourself, professor?”

She throws her head back as you rub her clit, “Look so sexy baby, I want you inside me.”

You chuckle darkly into her ear, “All weekend wasn’t enough huh? You just want me to fill you up every day.”

You keep your thumb on her clit and easily push 2 fingers inside of her. Your free hand loops around to rest on her neck. She tilts her head back to be able to meet your lips. You can feel her clenching around your fingers already.

“Desperate fucking slut, so needy for me. I’d take you like this for hours, till that puddle in your panties becomes a fucking ocean. Make you cum enough to coat my strap in your juices. Have your filthy mouth suck it off, just to spread you open and shove it in that hungry hole. The way you’re sucking up my fingers, fuck I know you need my cock buried inside of you.”

She begins to pant, “I want it. I want your cock, please. Please I’ll do anything, just let me have it.”

You pout, “Aww we don’t have time right now Aggie. I need you to cum on fingers so I can shove them in your mouth and go teach my class.”

She whines and starts moving with your fingers, “Y/n.”

You kiss her forehead, “I know baby, I know. You have to be good for me. Do what I say and I’ll make it worth your while, professor.”

You squeeze her throat a little tighter and pick up the pace with your fingers. Agatha lets out a shrill scream, causing you to cover her mouth quickly. You feel her slump against you, causing you to slow your pace before fully removing your fingers from her.

Before you can move away from her, she grabs your wrist, guiding your fingers into her mouth. She allows the tips to hit the back of her throat while keeping eye contact with you.

Your fingers fall out of her mouth and you delicately grab her by the chin. You peck her lips sweetly.

“You owe me one hell of a reward, Professor L/n,” she mumbles.

Her hand trails down the front of your suit pants until she finds what she’s looking for. She squeezes the toy lightly, palming it with her hand.

“I keep my promises, Professor Harkness. I still have a few to make good on, but in the meantime, I have a lecture to teach,” you wink at her.

She steals on last kiss from you, “Don’t be late.”

Agatha playfully smacks your ass when you turn around and you laugh at her antics. As you reach the exit of her classroom you turn back for a second, “Oh, and Professor Harkness. I really enjoyed your lesson.”

You leave her lecture room with a smile on your face. On the way to your own class, you find yourself walking in stride with fellow history professor, Rio Vidal.

“You’re getting awfully cozy with Professor Harkness.”

You shrug, “She needed some help with the curriculum, wanted a fresh new perspective.”

The brown eyed woman hums, “Hmm, I’ve never known her to ask for help.”

“Well, maybe you just don’t have much help to offer her these days,” you match her tone.

“I heard she sat in on your lecture, mind if I do the same?” She disregards your last statement.

Again you shrug, “Feel free, Professor Vidal.”

You feel her gaze trail up your side profile. It lingers on your pants, and you have to stop yourself from readjusting.

“You can call me Rio.”

“Y/n,” you say curtly.

Once at your classroom, you already have a few students waiting outside. You let them in and head to the front of the class. Rio takes a seat in the front corner of the lecture.

As promised before break you spend the whole class reviewing. The last thing you do is hand out the assignments you graded yesterday. You sit at your desk, eyes drifting over to Rio.

“Well, I can see now why everyone is so enticed by you. You’re charming, smart, and well-dressed. No wonder students and professors alike are always muttering about you,” she walks to stand in front of your desk.

Your face heats under her gaze, “I’m hearing about my  reputation more now than ever before.”

She stares at you like she could devour you. Her hands rest wide on your desk and her head drops to look at you.

“I don’t think she could handle what you have to offer, cupcake,” Rio leans into the desk.

“What are you talking about?” You sit back straight in your chair, keeping a calm attitude.

“Oh, now you want to play dumb professor,” she leans in further to whisper in your ear, “I heard you two early. Trust me kid, I know what Agatha sounds like. There’s only one reason I’d hear her making those kind of noises.”

“Jealous or something?”

She smiles widely shaking her head. She walks around to the side of the desk, “Not of you. Like I said, I’m very familiar with Agatha. I’m less familiar with you."

She gets on her knees and crawls over to you. Her hands wrap around your leg to rest on your knees, “ I need to know you better.”

“Don’t even think about it Vidal,” you scoot back away from her.

“I'd listen to her if I were you, Rio,” Agatha’s voice echoes across the room.

Rio only smirks and stand to her feet, “Hello, my love. Long time, no chat.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way,” Agatha quickly makes her way to the desk. Her hands rest on your shoulders as she stares at Rio.

The brown eyed woman frowns, “How long are we going to play this game, Agatha?”

“Play time is over Rio” Agatha says.

Rio shakes her head, “You fucking some hot, younger, girl, doesn't mean shit. She only fucked you as a rebound Y/n.”

“You’re only saying that because you wished you fucked her first,” Agatha shoots back at Rio.

“If I had 5 minutes alone with her, she would’ve taken me over the desk,” Rio glares at Agatha.

“You always did have a thing for sloppy seconds,” Agatha returns.

“I take it you two have a past,” you interject.

“Present, and a future, cupcake,” Rio winks at you.

You stand up, “I’m not your cupcake, Professor Vidal. I only plan on saying this one time, so I hope you’re a good listener. I. Don’t. Like. Sharing.”

“Oooo daddy runs a little hot I see,” Rio teases you.

You can feel your jaw twitch, “You’re a fucking brat.”

Rio bats her eyelashes at you, “You going to tame me, daddy?”

Agatha cuts in her tone stern, “Rio, leave now.”

Rio whines the blue-eyed woman’s name, “Agatha.”

“Out,” Agatha reinforces.

The woman huffs out an air of irritation before leaving the classroom.

“You know I figured you hooked up with Professor Vidal, but I didn’t picture her being such a brat,” you sit back down when you address Agatha.

The woman sits in your lap, facing you. Her hands play with the hairs on the back of your neck. She can feel the dildo pressing against her, but refrains from moving.

“She’s untamable,” Agatha says dismissively.

You scoff, “No one is untamable.”

Agatha rolls her eyes, “Trust me, Rio lives for the thrill of the punishment.”

“You punish her a lot?”

“I suppose I did,” Agatha meets your eyes.

“Tell me about it.”

Your hands found purchase on her hips. You guided her slowly back and forth across the length of the strap in your pants.

“One time I made go out with a toy inside of her and no panties. I spanked her for every wet spot she left when she was sitting,” Agatha says and you guide her a little faster.

“More.”

“I slapped her cunt until it was nice and tender and then I made her bounce on my strap until she came 7 times.”

You press Agatha down firmer on you, “Another.”

You were pulsing at the thought of Agatha dominating Professor Vidal. Her bratty attitude had upset you, but it had also turned you on. You wish you could put her in her place.

“I edged her for 2 hours until she nearly collapsed after squirting harder than I've ever seen anyone squirt in my life. Seeing her face down in her own juices, eyes fluttering, tongue out trying to taste herself on the floor. God, that was my favorite.”

You groan wanting more than fuck Agatha right here on your desk. She’s about to cum again while haven't came once today. It feels you are torturing yourself.

It's as if Agatha had read your thoughts. She sticks on of her hands down your pants. She slips it past the harness to feel your clit.

“You want to cum with me, professor,” Agatha smirks as she rubs your clit.

“Fuck yes,” you moan, laying your head on her chest.

It didn't take much more for you to cum together. Your breath was ragged, and your hunger for each other was only partially satiated.

“Listen up, ‘Mrs. I don’t like sharing’ if you’re going to try to become brat tamer of the year, you aren’t doing it without me,” Agatha says placing a kiss on your cheek.

She attempts to get up, but you hold her place, “Fine, when she comes to see you,  call me. I want us both to have fun with her.”

Agatha laughs, “She’s irritating in the way you just want to fuck it out of her, isn’t she?”

You nod, “But you can’t let her know that. Her ego is too big, that’s why she’s bratty now.”

Agatha agrees with you, “Good point, I have to go teach my next class, but I’ll see you tonight. Your place, for my reward.”

She kisses you sweetly, once more  before exiting your classroom.

Now you had two things on your mind. Agatha’s reward and your opportunity to punish Rio. Both things that you were very much looking forward too.

Next part

[runningfrom2am]

Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!

as long as you need me - c.s

pairing: coryo x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav / coriolanus snow masterlist

a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!

You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him. 

"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.

"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.

"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.

"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"

"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.

"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"

"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.

"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"

"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."

"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.

At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.

Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.

These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.

Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.

"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.

"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.

"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."

Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.

"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.

"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.

"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."

"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.

The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.

"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."

Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.

Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.

You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.

You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.

Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.

"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.

As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."

He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"

He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.

"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.

He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.

Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."

taglist: @keziahcore, @soulessjourney, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @rororo06, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @slytherinholland, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @darlingisntit, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world, 

[byeoltoyuki]

Try

↳ Pairing: Seungmin x reader

❧ Genre: rivals to lovers / romance / smut

❧ Words: +4k

❧ Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f)

❧Summary : Years ago, he used to be your enemy.

No. Enemy was too strong to describe what Kim Seungmin was to you. Your rival was a better term. He was everything you weren’t; friendly, funny and effortlessly brilliant. You loathed him for that. And yet, when you meet him again years later, you just can’t deny that there’s something else between you too.

❧ A/N : Honestly, this one comes out of nowhere. I just needed to write so here it comes ♥ Reblogs and comments are always appreciated ♥

***

‘Trust your guts’.

It was your motto in life. A simple rule. And you abided by this rule half of your short lived life. But not tonight and you regretted it. Deeply.

The annual gathering with people from your college was an event your closest friends adored just so they could show some idiots that they had succeeded in life. You? You avoided it. An event you hated with all your heart. You always found excuses not to go. Your life depended on it.

Okay. Not really. Not your life at least. But definitely your ego.

You hated half of the people who attended the event. Back in college, they were so quick to judge, to talk behind your back and yet they expected you to be nice to them. To them, you were just a cold, nerdy girl with no friends. Someone they could easily mock. They hated your attitude. They hated your looks. But they also hated how easily you beat them every single time.

They were wrong.

Yes, you were a little nerdy back then, but you weren’t a cold person, just shy. And you had friends. Not many, but you didn’t need many to feel good. To be happy. Those you had, stuck by your side and they also happened to be the reason you had finally agreed to come to the gathering. You just couldn’t say no to Hyunjin and Yeji, not when those two formed an alliance against you. You had no chance against them.

You sighed to yourself. Would it be rude to grab your purse and leave? One nasty look from Hyunjin, as if he could read your mind, and you gulped nervously. Apparently it was. You slumped further into your chair and tried to keep up with the conversation. Same boring conversation. ‘Where do you currently work?’ ‘Are you soon getting married?’ ‘I’ve bought a house!’ Why did it have to be a competition? Couldn't they just enjoy a nice gathering and the meal?

“Hyunjin, I heard you’re flying to Paris for the fashion week.” Seoah were almost drooling as she spoke to Hyunjin. You cringed. She couldn’t make it even more obvious that she wasn’t just admiring him. No, she had something else on mind. Too bad, Hyunjin was a taken man even if she didn’t know that.

He smiled into his drink. “Yes, tomorrow.” He put his glass back on the table and glanced smugly at a silently fuming Juwon who always hated Hyunjin’s popularity. “I was actually supposed to leave today, but I couldn’t miss our annual gathering! It’s good to see you guys.”

What a liar. You had to bite your lips not to laugh at his words.

Juwon cleared his throat and averted his attention on you. Hell no. “You look different.” For once, it didn’t sound like an insult but you were still weary of him. No nice words coming out of his mouth could make you forget what kind of asshole he was. And you had a hard time to believe that he had actually changed.

“Do I?” You did look different from the past. You used not to care about your looks. Who cared how you looked as long as you had good grades? You certainly didn’t. Neither did your friends. But it changed. Ever since you started working at your art gallery, you understood the importance of how others perceived you. You learnt to do your makeup right. You took care of your long hair. And you changed your whole wardrobe. You got classier. And maybe tonight you put an extra effort to look good. Not that you needed to impress anyone, but you did it anyway.

“It suits you!” Another woman commented, genuinely excited. You couldn’t remember her name but you thanked her with a smile.

Yeji eyed you from the other side of the big table, thumbs up, her eyes telling you silently ‘told you so’. You ignored her. Just because you could.

“I wonder with what kind of man you ended.” Juwon was too curious for his own good.

“Oh come on.” Seoah laughed as if the idea of you dating was ridiculous. “I bet she’s still single.”

How typical of her to assume. Not that she was wrong, but her comment still pissed you. Did she think you were still the same woman as back in college? Just because right at this moment, you were indeed single, didn’t mean you refused dating. You did and got tired of it. Every relationship you had, always started nice, romantic even, but always ended the same way: you breaking up with the guy. They were nice men who truly cared for you but there was just something missing.

However, before you could share a piece of your mind with Seoah, you were interrupted.

“Sorry guys, I’m late!”

That voice.

That stupidly, annoying voice. Your whole body reacted; you shuddered, unable to breath, unable to think properly.

Kim Seungmin.

Here came a man you wished you could avoid for the rest of your life. You knew, your hatred for him was irrational. Compare to others, he had never done anything to you. Seungmin never mocked you, never made any bad comments. But he was your rival. No matter how hard you worked, no matter how many hours you spent in the library, studying, he still beat you every single time. It drove you crazy. But what made everything tenths time worse was the fact that Seungmin quickly caught on your little game and it amused him. You hated him for that too.

“You’re right on time!” Juwon pushed a chair for him. “We’ve been discussing Y/N’s love life!” His gaze slid to you and smirked. “Or lack of it.” Yep. Still an asshole, you were right.

Seungmin quirked a brow at Juwon’s words. You felt his eyes on you. On your face, on your neck, on your arms. Your skin burned under his gaze but you refused to acknowledge his presence for the sake of your sanity.

Maybe a tiny part of you expected Seungmin to comment Juwon’s words, maybe even laugh at it. But he did none of that. Instead you felt him only closer to you which made your unease grow with every passing seconds.

“Do you mind if we switch places?” Seungmin asked the girl beside you, taking the two of you completely off guard.

You opened your mouth, a protest on the tip of your tongue but the girl beside you was faster. She hurried to leave her spot. Seungmin flashed her a pretty smile and sat right next to you. Despite you wanting to avoid him, now that he sat so close to you, your arm brushing his, there was no escape. Now that you were staring right into his pretty, annoying, eyes, you knew: you were fucked.

“As for what you said Juwon. Lack of love life?” Seungmin repeated his words. He moved a little closer to you and before you could push him away, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, bringing you against him. “How come you didn’t tell them about us, babe?”

Loud gasps followed by whispers.

What.

What the actual fuck?!

If from outside you looked perfectly composed, at least to those who didn’t know you well enough, inside you were completely freaking out. His words made no sense. His body, his warmth that should have repelled you, felt actually nice.

Kim Seungmin was trying to help you. You heard him. You understood what he was saying but you didn’t understand why. You weren’t friends, not even close and you hadn’t seen each other for so long. I’ll deal with you later.

Something was wrong with you too because instead of pushing him away, you leant into him and accepted his help. “Because they wouldn’t have believed me. Should I remind you that we used to hate each other?” You reminded him and playfully poked his side.

Seungmin leaned closer, his lips so close to yours – you gulped but didn’t avert your eyes from his face. How annoyingly pretty he looked with his eyes shining brightly with mischief. Fine, he was helping you but he was clearly having fun too.

“Wrong.” He said and kissed the corner of your lips.

Gasps again.

Your heart skipped a beat. The corner of your lips tingled and you found yourself wishing his lips had stayed longer. What the actual fuck, Y/N. This whole night was a terrible idea and you kept making bad decisions. Getting drunk and hoping to forget everything seemed like a good idea right now.

“I never hated you.” He added and pulled back to face the others as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb at them. And at you. “What’s up?”

And just like that they started talking again. But you heard none of that. All you could hear was the sound of your roaring heart. All you could feel was the lingering feeling of his lips. All you could think about was Seungmin and this thing going on between the two of you tonight. ‘I never hated you.’ Fine. Maybe he never did but you weren’t on best terms either. You wanted to take him outside and talk to him. Was it his attempt at messing with you? Or was he really just being genuinely nice?

You noticed Hyunjin and Yeji staring at you, questions in their eyes. You didn’t blame them. They had to know none of it was real, they were your best friends. You wouldn’t have hidden something as big as dating Kim Seungmin from them.

“And you Yeji?” Seungmin’s voice brought you back from your reverie. “I heard your new song, it’s really nice.” You wanted to concentrate on what he was saying since he was talking about your friend. You couldn’t. Not when he put his hand on your thigh. Not when he made it look so natural. Not when, despite it happening under the table, it attracted attention on the two of you again.

It should feel wrong. In fact, you should be appalled by his boldness. You didn’t. It felt awfully nice. And right. Instead of pushing him away, you simply watch him talking. You didn’t want to admire his face but it was hard not to. Even if you weren’t fond of him, you weren’t blind. Kim Seungmin was handsome. Pretty eyes, pretty nose and even prettier mouth. Without realizing it, you licked your lips, wondering how it would feel against yours. Or at any other part of your body.

Oh my god. Did they put something in my drink? There’s no way I’m thinking about him. But you were.

Seungmin squeezed your thigh, the palm of his hand feeling suddenly too hot against your skin. He forgot all about his friends and leant closer. “If you keep staring at me like that we might have a problem.” He warned you.

Your breath caught in your throat and you couldn’t ignore how your face flushed. “When did you get so bold?” You whispered in return.

Seungmin smiled in response. A smile so beautiful, so bright, you wanted to keep it for yourself.

“Growing up does that to a person.” He whispered, his lips brushed your ear. “And also, you look really pretty tonight.”

You couldn’t stop the blush from spreading all over your face even if you tried.

Kim Seungmin was a menace. But a very beautiful and annoying one.

“Okay, that’s enough.” One of the guy groaned. “Get a room. Some of us are sadly single and you two are just disgusting.”

Seungmin laughed heartily and unfortunately for you pulled away from you. A tiny part of you was relieved for the space, but another part of you almost whined at the loss of his warmth. Yeah, there was something wrong with you.

****

Somehow you managed to survive through the whole meal without a fight, without people trying to mess with you. In fact, you even managed to laugh a few times and it wasn’t just because of your friends’ jokes. And maybe it had everything to do with Seungmin.

“Should I drive you home?” Hyunjin whispered to your ear, making sure that nobody heard you.

It was the plan. You came with them and you were supposed to leave with them. You glanced at Seungmin and you couldn’t believe yourself: you were hesitating. You could leave with your friends but then you wouldn’t be able to talk to him and have a chance to thank him for his help.

Seungmin was faster to react. “I’ll take her home. Right babe?” He grabbed your jacket from your chair and waited for you.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes at his words, tempted to pull you back against him. You patted his back. “I should go with Seungmin.”

Hyunjin cocked a brow, surprised with your answer. You gave him a small smile and promised to text him and Yeji later.

Seungmin waited for you. Your body moved on its own accord. When you were close enough, Seungmin helped you to put your jacket on. You were thankful he couldn’t see your flushed face.

“There. All good.” He told you. “Are you ready?”

You were not.

***

You didn’t want the drive to your place to be awkward but it was. You didn’t know how to start the conversation with him. You knew nothing about this Kim Seungmin or how to deal with him.

“Thank you for tonight.” You said awkwardly without looking at him.

From the corner of your eyes you saw him glance at you. You expected him to make a comment, to make it easier for you but he didn’t. He returned his attention to the road. Damn him.

You sighed and slumped further into your seat. “I still don’t understand why you helped me.” This time, you looked at him.

Seungmin shrugged. “They were being dicks for no good reason.”

True, they were but it wasn’t anything new. Seungmin never stood up for you before so why now? “You didn’t need to pretend though.” He could have said anything but no, he chose to play your fake boyfriend instead.

Seungmin parked the car by the entrance of your building and then fully faced you. His eyes sparked with delight and something else. “I admit; it wasn’t my plan. But then, I had one look at you and couldn’t help myself.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “So you were messing with me.”

“Maybe a little.”

So damn infuriating. You hurried to unbuckle your seatbelt and opened the door.

“I wasn’t joking you know.” Seungmin stopped you with his words, realizing that if he wanted for you to talk to him, he needed to be genuine. “I never hated you.” He sighed and ruffled his hair in frustration. “I loved how competitive you were. When I realized how clever you were, it pushed me to work harder, to make sure I stayed on the top. And maybe to annoy you a little too. I remember how you used to scrunch your nose whether you saw I got a better grade than you. So adorable.” He smiled at the memory.

Seungmin left you speechless. Why was he making it sound like he was actually fond of you? And why the hell did his words melted you on the spot? You needed to hurry up; grab your purse and leave this car before you did something unthinkable. But as you stepped outside of his car, your body froze, refusing to leave. I’m losing my mind, that’s it.

“Give me your phone.” You turned back and outstretched your hand. It was a bad idea. Terrible idea. But then again, it was just another one to add to the list of bad ideas. Who cared?

Seungmin didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second as if he had been waiting for this moment for ages. You refused to delve on the matter as you quickly saved your number in his phone. “Call me when you want.”

‘And maybe soon.’ But you didn’t say it.

***

You barely made it inside your flat – your phone rang with an unknown number. You stared at your phone, your heart skipping a beat. You didn’t want to think it could be Seungmin. But were you hoping? Maybe.

“Hi.” You instantly recognized his gentle voice.

You couldn’t help it. You chuckled at his eagerness. “You know, usually people wait few days to call back.”

“Open your door.”

Your eyes widened in shock. Too taken aback, you did as he asked without thinking. And here he was. “Did you follow me?!”

Seungmin smiled sheepishly and put his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry. I-“

Was he nervous? “What are you doing, Seungmin?”

Seungmin took a deep breath and took a step inside your flat. The right thing to do would be to tell him to leave. It was too soon and you weren’t in the right mind. You did none of that.

“I’m desperate.” He admitted.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he got closer to you. You knew that if you let him get too close to you, something could happen. And you didn’t completely dislike the idea. Seungmin halted right before you. His eyes blazed with so much intensity, you gulped nervously.

Gently, Seungmin took your hand and pulled it toward him to press against his chest. You jolted, surprised to feel his heartbeat. Wild. Strong. And his hand so warm. “I was a coward in college and missed my chance. I can’t do it a second time, Y/N. I can’t let you slip between my fingers again.”

Your eyes darted back and forth between your hand against his chest and his eyes. “Are you confessing, Seungmin?”

“What if I am?” He dared you, his grip on your hand tightened. Maybe a little part of him was actually scared of rejection. But he held strong.

You could pull away from him and forget his words.

You could, but you didn’t.

His words stirred something inside you. It made you curious. What if instead of looking for a guy that was nice, you went for the guy who loved to compete with you? A guy who, without you even realizing it, pushed you to be the best version of yourself? You had nothing to lose. So you did something completely out of your character. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your body against his, feeling all of him against you. His body strong and firm against you.

“I’d say you need to show me just how much you like me.”

Seungmin growled at your words and instead of answering you, he claimed your mouth. So eager. So desperate. There was nothing sweet about this kiss and you didn’t mind. Seungmin poured years of frustration and need into the kiss. Poured all his feelings, his longing and you gladly took it all.

You moved through the room without breaking the kiss until your thighs met the edge of your table. You didn’t think twice as you sat on top of it, spreading your legs for him to settle against you. You felt it then, how hard he was, how much he wanted you. You would be lying if you said you weren’t wet and excited for what he could do to you.

Seungmin broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours. “Are you sure?”

You thought it was sweet that he still tried to control himself. That he still wanted to make sure you were comfortable with him touching you. If only he knew how bad you needed him right now. “Hundred per cent sure.” You confirmed and pecked his nose.

“Well then,” Seungmin’s lips moved from your cheek to the corner of your mouth, to your jaw. “I think I want a dessert.” He kissed your shoulder and gently slid the straps of your dress exposing your aching breasts. “So beautiful.” He licked his way from one breast to another – he took one of your breasts in his mouth, playing with you, teasing you.

You moaned softly, your hand nestled in his hair, you pushed his head against your chest. You were right, his mouth felt perfect against your skin and you thought it would be so easy to get addicted. “Touch me.” You begged, the throbbing between your legs getting too much.

“I’m touching you.” He teased, knowing damn well where you needed him the most.

“Seungmin.” You groaned and tug at his hair.

He groaned and bit playfully on your nipple. “Be nice.” With that he hiked your dress higher. He grabbed your panties and tore them off you.

You gasped loudly. “Did you just tear my panties?!”

He chuckled. “Sorry.” He was definitely not sorry judging by his smirk. You took note to make him pay later for it.

Seungmin spread your legs wider and licked his lips at your exposed pussy glistening with your wetness. “Look at that. Already so wet and I barely touched you.” He teased your sweet pussy by dragging a finger from your clit to your entrance, loving how you shivered at this simple touch.

“Seungmin, please.” You begged shamelessly and pushed your hips, needing to feel more.

“Do you want that?” He pushed his fingers deep inside you. So easily. In and out. Slower at first and then faster, watching as you threw your head back, your lips parted. Your soft moans filled the room and it was the sweetest melody to his ears.

Slowly, Seungmin dropped to his knees. Your dizzy mind barely registered what he was doing – he gently scraped his teeth over your clit. He knew exactly what he was doing. The moment he wrapped his lips around your clit, you lost it.  A loud moan escaped your lips. He feasted on you eagerly; his mouth, his fingers, he was slowly driving you crazy and you could only beg for more.

“Oh my god, Seungmin.” You mewled and ground against his face.

He was good. Too good. His mouth was divine. He worked his magic so well, you could feel your orgasm so close you could taste it.

“I’m so close. Please.”

Seungmin hummed against your pussy. “Come then.”

And you did. Your whole body trembled as your orgasm washed over you. But he didn’t stop. Seungmin kept sucking on your clit, enjoying how you writhed and tried to pull him away from you, too sensitive from your orgasm.

Seungmin straightened up and slowly pulled out his fingers from your pussy. He watched you, smiling lazily as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them.

“Shit.” You clenched around nothing at the sight. He shouldn’t be allowed to look so sinful.

You grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him into another bruising kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. “I need you inside me right now.”

“So bossy.” He chuckled, “What if I want to play more with you?”

You considered it for a moment. You wouldn’t mind him playing with you. But right now, you wanted him buried deep inside you. You wanted him to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t remember why in the hell you considered him as your enemy for so long. Wanted him to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t remember your name.

You reached between your bodies and started working on his belt and then his zipper. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities to play with me later.”

Seungmin arched a brow, amused with your confession. “Will I?”

“Hell yeah.” You grabbed his cock. He was hard and angry and dripping pre-cum. You salivated at the sight. Kim Seungmin was perfect and you were dying to find out how hard he could ruin you. “Please, wreck me?” You asked as nicely as you could manage.

Seungmin shook his head, laughing fondly. “How can I say no to you?”

Seungmin drove into you. One deep thrust that made you grab his arms, holding for your dear life.

“Fuck.” You moaned and tried to compose yourself. He felt perfect, stretching you, filling you just like you needed.

Seungmin dragged his cock slowly at first, letting you time to adjust and maybe also trying to compose himself. Despite all his talk about playing, he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted to lose control and drive you mad. “You were made for me, Y/N.” He grunted, his control slipping little by little. “Fuck.”

“Don’t hold back, please.” Who cared if he ruined you? Who cared if you couldn’t walk tomorrow? You didn’t.

And he didn’t. Seungmin slammed back into you. His thrusts hard. Deep. Reaching all the right spots. Making you cry out his name. Making you whimper. “You are so fucking perfect.” He hissed as you clenched around him.

“Please, please, please.” You didn’t know what you begged for anymore. Was for him to go harder? To go deeper? To slow down? You couldn’t tell. Your mind was overwhelmed. Your body was burning.

Seungmin kept a brutal rhythm, his thrusts vicious, his grip on your body strong, fingers digging into your skin. It would leave marks and you could only wish for more. Let the world see that someone made you feel so good. Let the world see that you belonged to him.

His hand reached between your bodies and rubbed your clit. There was no escape. You came in a loud cry, wildly, explosively, your body shaking. Seungmin fucked you through your orgasm, his thrusts getting sloppier, his grunts louder, seeking his own release.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and claimed his mouth, swallowing his groan as he came deep inside you, trembling against you.

Seungmin rested his head in the crook of your head, panting. For a moment, you didn’t talk and savored just the moment and the press of your sweaty bodies. It felt nice. It felt good. Perfect.

With your orgasm came clarity. “Why haven’t we done it sooner?” You laughed.

Seungmin bit on your collarbone in response. “Because we had other priorities in college.”

That you did. “What a shame.” You sighed dramatically. “Guess we have some serious catch up to do, don’t you think?”

[gyllenhaalstuff]

Omg you’re taking requests for Loki!! Can I pls request jealous Loki / little boy pulling on little girl’s pigtails / realising he’s attracted to his partner (or all of the above)? Love your work!

Yes!! He is a bit mean in this which I’m not used to writing, hopefully it’s not too badly worded.

Frustrated

- Detective Loki

Summary: David resents you for frustrating him and disrupting his peace of mind. You confront him about it during a work session and he finally comes to terms with the problem at hand.

Warnings: David being rude, degradation, dom!David, masturbation, piv sex, unprotected sex.

Word count: 1516

Notes: I have a thing for office settings.

Catching feelings wasn’t something David ever thought he’d actually do. The only time he recalled ever liking someone was in grade school, but that was nothing compared to now.

Though, at the time, David didn’t know what the feeling was. He just knew it was strong. It felt like he was itching for a cigarette or never getting a break in a case. A kind of frustration that never seemed to settle.

The person responsible for this was you. And it would be a lie to say he didn’t hold resentment against you for it. But you had disrupted his world, and even more so when you began working on a case together.

One morning as David was walking from his car to the station, he saw you getting dropped off. You went around to the driver’s side and kissed the driver through the rolled-down window. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you two were supposed to stay late at the office that night, going through suspects.

David ignored you all day. You never understood why he was so cold to you and just rounded it up to him being antisocial. But you had a feeling there was something more; sometimes he stared at your legs, your thighs, but sometimes he’d glare at you like you were a fly clinging to his windshield.

You sat down in one of the conference rooms and laid out the documents you had gathered so far. Arrest papers, search warrant findings, headshots, testimonies, and alibis.

“Did you see it’ll be snowing tomorrow?” you said, trying to initiate some sort of small talk. You couldn’t stand the silence. “I didn’t,” David mumbled back, uninterested. “I can’t wait to stay in, watch a movie, and have a cup of tea,” you continued and got a hum in response. He really didn’t like you.

“Have I done something?” you asked, obviously frustrated. David finally looked up at you, shrugged, and said, “No.” 

“Because it seems like you don’t like me,” you let out. Maybe a stupid thing to say, but this tension made you want to rip your hair out. “Sometimes you just piss me off,” David finally said something of substance. It took you aback; you weren’t one known for causing trouble exactly. “When have I been anything but nice?” You were getting fired up by this conversation.

David rubbed his eyes. He didn’t actually know how to respond; you were right about that. “I just don’t love the way you walk around in those skirts like you’re some pretty little thing worthy of attention or when you tap your nails on the desk while we’re working or when you kiss your boyfriend in the parking lot.” He almost felt out of breath, while yours had gotten caught in your throat. 

“First of all, sorry about my tapping. I’ll work on that. Second of all, that wasn’t my boyfriend; that was my sweet grandma, whom I kissed on the cheek and thanked for the drive. And lastly, I wear these skirts to look put together, not to impress anyone.” You could feel how your eyebrows furrowed as you spoke.

David smiled meanly. “Yeah, because I’m sure you hate it when our colleagues drool as you walk in, flaunting your legs.” This was meant as an insult, you understood that, but it didn’t hit you as one. “Like you don’t,” you chuckled at his hypocrisy. David brushed his fingers through his hair; a few strands fell in his face. You almost felt bad for him; this seemed to stress him out for real.

A pause. “Hey, I’m sorry,” you said, your voice less harsh than before. “No, you’re right,” David sighed. “And you do look nice in your skirts; they just frustrate me.” You couldn’t help but widen your eyes a bit. Surely, he didn’t mean it like that. Frustrated can mean thousands of things. You crossed your legs and noticed how this meeting didn’t leave you unbothered.

“Thank you,” you mumbled. “But how is it frustrating exactly?” You couldn’t hold back; if you did, you would stay up all night wondering what he meant by it. David had never actually thought about it, and he realized then that it was because he didn’t want to know. The itching feeling wasn’t him wanting to tear you to shreds; it was him wanting to bend you over the desk. When it dawned on him, it was as if someone had upped the thermostat and turned the conference room into a sauna. He didn’t realize how long he was quiet for, but you did. His mind seemed to go elsewhere, and he unbuttoned his shirt around the neck.

This was a problem for you. Attention from older men. You unintentionally smiled. “I don’t mind,” you let him know. It was like a switch went off in him, and his nerves went out the window. “Come here then.” He scooted his chair away from the table, giving you enough space to stand in front of him. You caught on and walked up to him. It was almost humiliating how he didn’t even bother to look up at you but kept his gaze fixed on your body.

His large hands instinctively went to grope your thighs. He hummed to himself as he squeezed and massaged them. He hardened in his slacks and shifted in his chair. You stood still as he felt you up, unsure of what to do. A low, quiet moan slipped out when his hands groped your ass instead. This was getting dangerous.

David got up and ordered you to turn around. You laid your torso on the desk, your hips in the air. Your skirt flipped up, and a calloused finger ran over your panties. Your mind was spinning with dirty thoughts and all the reasons this was wrong. Thoughts that died when your panties were pulled to the side and his finger pushed down on and rubbed your clit. You accidentally grabbed onto, scrunching, one of the documents as he made his circles against you.

You heard a zipper being undone. And then short, strained breaths and the sound of skin moving against skin. “This is why I can’t stand you,” David muttered from above, “pretending to be all professional when it’s obvious you’re a fucking slut.” Your thighs clenched, and you blushed at his words. Feeling as if you had gotten caught with something.

David spat on his cock before spreading it with his hand, grunting as he twisted around his head. You felt his tip touch your entrance, and you mentally prepared for the stretch. And thank God you did.

You couldn’t help but whine as he stretched you out, only stopping once his pelvis hit your skin. He sighed in relief, feeling some of his pent-up anger running off his back. He thrust out and in again slowly, making you huff in unsatisfaction. “Like you haven’t been torturing me,” David reminded you. Reminded you that this wasn’t without reason. 

You clenched your jaw, feeling his cock drawing out of you slowly, only to do it over again. “Please,” you mumbled helplessly. “Why should I?” David responded, secretly loving this control over you. “I’ll be really good and not tempt you anymore, I promise,” you rambled; what was true or not didn’t matter, as long as it got you where you wanted.

“You better.” David slammed into you. Both pain and pleasure washed over you. His new pace was much better, faster, and greedier. His thrusts were followed by short grunts that grew louder as he went on. His nails dug into your hips, stinging your warm skin.

Your legs felt like giving out, but you held out. This was your punishment, and you weren’t going to bitch about it. You felt your orgasm approaching, getting closer with each time David let out a moan or mumbled how good you felt. Insane how he was chattier during sex than during your lunch breaks. 

You warned David, “I’m close.” He followed with a “me too.” His thrusts became more punctuated and harder as he chased both your orgasms. And when yours approached and you clamped around him, you heard a whimper from above. You could feel yourself pulsating as David stalled in you, filling you up.

David was the first to move. He tucked himself back in his pants and ran to grab a paper towel. He wiped away his cum that seeped out of you, trying to save the carpet flooring. You thought it was sweet.

You went to the bathroom afterward (very important if you don’t want a UTI). Your face was all flushed and hot. You splattered some cold water on your face to calm down.

When you got back, David had his nose in the documents. His work morale was unmatched. You sat opposite him, sorting through the now scattered papers. You figured he wasn’t going to say anything until you did. “I really needed that,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t ignore you.

“Not the only one,” he responded and even smiled at you.

[alwaysurvalentine]

the love bug - st ficlet

Based on a prompt from my @steddiebingo 12 Days of Christmas card: 'blind date'

wc: 854 | cw: none | more info: modern au, pre-relationship, Steve is a teacher (I'm thinking middle school) and Eddie works at a music store

enjoy! 💛

~

Eddie knows he could’ve saved himself from the chill seeping into his bones by getting dropped off right in front of the restaurant. However, getting dropped off a block away meant he could scope out this mysterious stranger Chrissy’s set him up with. The place they’re meeting has a line of windows that face the street that he’s hoping to use to his advantage. He doesn’t even really know what the guy looks like, but Chrissy said that he’d be there and that he’d have a red rose on the table. Easy to spot. 

To say Eddie’s wary is an understatement. He’s really only doing this to get Chrissy off of his back. Ever since she’s been bitten by the love bug she’s made it a personal goal to help all of her friends find love. Now, did her meddling help their friends Nancy and Barb finally get together? Maybe, but that’s besides the point. Both of them having been dancing around each other for as long as Eddie can remember, not so stolen glances sent to each other every time the group got together. 

Love and Eddie just don’t mix, and he’s accepted that. A series of terrible exes will do that to you. But Eddie’s okay with being alone, it’s not like he’s ever wanting for company, but asking a hookup for something more than physical is just asking to be ghosted. So it’s just fine with him to keep on working at the Music Warehouse and meeting up with his friends for dinner instead of worrying about who is going to help him raise his rats. 

The windows cast a warm light onto the street, ice glittering, and Eddie sees it – a bright red rose sitting next to the prettiest man he’s ever seen. How was he supposed to know that a man named Steve was going to be a modern day Adonis? This is something that Chrissy should’ve warned him about! Now he’s second guessing his maroon button down and black jeans. He would’ve at least done some eyeliner if he’d known, and if things don’t go well he’s going to be talking to Chrissy about what needs to be shared if he goes out with someone. One of those letting him know if he’ll be sitting across from a literal model or just some friend of a friend that works in corporate.

When he steps in, a blast of warm air hits him and he shudders. His cheeks have to be pink from the cold, fingers tingling as he walks over to the table. Steve hasn’t noticed him yet, eyes tracing over the menu instead, and his wire frame glasses just about take Eddie out.

“Uh, Steve?” 

At his words, Steve looks up, eyebrow raised in question only for a moment before a soft smile settles on his face.

“You must be Eddie?”

~

Dinner ends too soon. Eddie could sit here and talk with Steve all night, but the pointed looks from the staff are enough to have him grabbing his jacket.

“Looks like we need to scoot out of here. I think they’re about to close.”

By the sheepish look on Steve’s face he hadn’t noticed the stares. He rushes to grab his own jacket, sliding it on even as he starts towards the door. They don’t even make it to the door before their dishes are cleared from the table. Eddie flashes a quick smile and shrugs when he makes eye contact with their waitress, following Steve out quickly.

“I didn’t realize how late it was getting. Sorry about that.” A light blush covers Steve’s cheeks, eyes turned to the sidewalk. 

“I didn’t mind. Guess it is kinda late though, and you’ve got all those papers to grade tomorrow. Wouldn’t want Mr. Harringtonslacking on the job.”

“Oh hush.” Steve gently shoves at Eddie’s shoulder, a cloud escaping his mouth when he laughs. It might only be their first meeting, but Eddie’s already imagining how nice Steve would look in the summer, moles popping out against tan skin. “I really do need to head out. Dinner was nice.” Steve hesitates for a moment, looking like he’s about to step away before reaching into his back pocket. “I’d like to do it again, think you can just add your number here?” 

When Eddie looks at the screen it’s to an empty contact, cursor blinking away. The phone buzzes and he gets a glimpse of a text from ‘Birdie’ saying ok Steven I’m so glad you’re having fun but… so he rushes to put in his name and number. 

Eddie gets an eyebrow raise from Steve when he passes the phone back, “Oh, ‘Mr. Right’ huh? Very presumptuous of you.”, but the grin on Steve’s face lets Eddie know the risk was worth it. Faintly he hears the phone buzz again and when Steve glances down his eyebrows furrow.

“Oh! I really do need to go, I’m sorry. Have a good night, Eddie!” 

And quick as a flash, Steve steps forward and presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 

Looks like he’s been bitten by the love bug too. 

[bluebellles]

"you're an angel, i'm a dog; or you're a dog and i'm your man"

a caleb character analysis thinly disguised as post-explosion plot; or a more in depth exploration of grief

pairing: caleb x reader / calebmc

genre: angst, sfw, nostalgia?

cw: canon compliant violence and references to child experimentation, codependency final boss, potentially unhealthy dynamics, you and caleb being freak4freak, explorations of how the lab may have effected you/mc as a child, caleb is a stalker but that's canon too, author is halfway through the first chapter of the fic she's supposed to be working on but got brain rot from caleb's birthday trailer, happy birthday here's some misery

You washed your hair today. 

Only enough to get the soot and ash out. Only because the smell kept taking you back to that place.

Nobody was there to dry it.

It wasn’t as if you had never dried your hair yourself, but you couldn’t seem to raise your hands enough to lift the towel to your head.

It felt like betraying something, almost. Trying to do his job. Doing it yourself after he went off to college, after you entered the academy, felt like picking up the slack. Now it felt like filling a role you needed to stay empty. Like you needed to remind yourself something was missing.

You catch a cold from sleeping on your wet hair. You don’t even notice. You accept your stilted breathing and the ache in your head as a part of your new normal. It will be a while before you wash your hair again.

The odd man with the sunset eyes messages you once. His name keeps flitting in and out of your consciousness. He says something about shells and talking to seagulls. You want to call Caleb and laugh about rich people and their weird hobbies. Tomorrow you will care to remember his name. A week from now you’ll be grateful that he reached out. It will be much longer before you can bring yourself to laugh again. 

You don’t cry. Not just now, but never in your conscious memory. Something is broken, something has always been wrong with you. The only person who knew that and loved you anyways is no longer here to do so. No one will pick up the slack. You won’t offer the job to anyone.

It wasn’t as though you didn’t feel enough to cry. You did. It was just that for most of your life, before you could cry or scream or rage, Caleb would be there. Soothing the pain or distracting you from the fear or getting angry on your behalf. Before you could even react, he always saw you. It was enough, for him to see. Nobody else needed to validate it.

You knew it made Gran nervous, that you never cried. You could see it in the way she watched you sometimes. Nearly clinical aside from the concern crinkling around the edges of her eyes. Like she was waiting for something. Like she was holding her breath. Like she thought you’d eventually explode.

Caleb never looked at you like that. Never looked at you like you were wrong, or dangerous, or other. Never looked at you like you were anything other than real. He looked at you like you belonged somewhere, even if it was just to him.

You saw that concern in Gran’s eyes in the car ride on the way to the hospital after you had broken your wrist on the playground in third grade.

Caleb had been playing basketball with some of the neighborhood kids. Gran had encouraged him, ushering him away with assurances that she’d keep an eye on you. She was always so insistent that the two of you make other friends. 

It didn’t stop his eyes from straying over to you. Didn’t stop him from counting the steps it would take to reach you if he needed to or making sure his Evol could extend far enough. 

Some older kids had been playing on the monkey bars. It looked fun, and more importantly it looked normal. You had never done them by yourself, always had Caleb on standby in case you fell, but you wondered if you could laugh that freely and look like all the other kids on the monkey bars if you did them on your own.

He couldn’t have looked away for more than a few minutes, assigned to chase the ball after it strayed into the creek. It was only for a few minutes that he relied on Gran, believed her promise.

When you fall and land on your wrist with an ugly snap you don’t cry out. You don’t even feel the pain, really, your body remembering how much more it had withstood even if your mind did not. It’s the way the other kids look at you with panic and horror that makes you cry out after you suddenly realize that you probably should.

Caleb only sees the aftermath as you clutch at your wrist with exaggerated pain. Gran is standing up from the bench to rush over, her book abandoned. Caleb gets there faster.

The car ride is silent apart from Caleb’s poorly concealed sniffling, tears pooling in his eyes as he gently cradles your wrist as if it’s precious to him. You watch them track down his face, memorizing the path from the galaxies in his eyes to the collar of his shirt. Something in you settles at the sight. If he is feeling the pain for you then it’s fine. It almost feels like the same thing, if not a little more satisfying. 

You ignore the concern in Gran’s eyes. She has been very kind to you, but she doesn’t need to see your pain. Not the way you need him to.

Caleb yells at Gran for the first and only time in your sight after you’ve finished getting your cast. It’s brief, his voice cracking and his hands shaking before he retreats, but you can see the relief in Gran’s expression when he does. You know she watches him too. Sees the way he never really looks at anyone besides you with real emotion. It’s comforting to her to know that he can, even if it’s with ire. 

Caleb is a good kid. He speaks up for his quieter classmates, makes sure nobody’s bothering the girls in his class on the train back from school. He’s the first to start stacking chairs at the end up the day and he’s always the one helping his teachers carry textbooks between classes.

He does those things because he wants to and he likes helping people, but if he can’t help them he won’t feel sad over it. Would never cry for anyone but you. Maybe in a gentler world, he could afford to care about anyone or anything else, but his world is not gentle so it can only be reserved for you.

Gideon mentioned it to you too, once. How he liked your Caleb but not in the way everyone else liked your Caleb. Everyone else who saw him as radiant, likeable, summer personified. A Golden Retriever trapped inside a reliable man. Instead, he liked him for the way he took over during a disastrous training flight during their second year at the academy.

Gideon had frozen when the controls started flashing, pure fear dousing over him like ice. Beside him, Caleb didn’t even hesitate. His gaze was steel as he took over the flight, stoic and unchanging besides a flippant joke he managed to slip in for his panicking copilot. He’d landed them safely.

It wasn’t something Gideon could fully understand, and part of him was a little unsettled by how selective his empathy could be, but there was no one else in the world he’d rather have next to him on a flight. You were grateful to know somebody else saw him like you did, and a little jealous too.

The point being: you don’t cry. You’re not sure you even remember how to. Not at the funeral. Not when Tara had hugged you close, the smell of her vanilla perfume surrounding you as she told you it was okay to grieve. Not even when Zayne had placed his cold hand on your shoulder and looked at you with an uncharacteristic warmth that you knew he reserved for moments that really mattered. Maybe you had come close, knowing you were supposed to, but you hadn’t cried.

It's not until a month later – a month of going through the motions and sleeping on wet hair and staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars Caleb had helped you stick on your bedroom ceiling – that you get the urge to hear his voice again. 

It isn’t as though you’re worried about forgetting it, it’s just that your whole apartment seems so silent. You tried blasting music, blaring the TV, turning on every appliance in your kitchen at the same time but you could never seem to make enough noise.

So you call his phone.

The first time, you don’t even make it through the first sentence.

“You’ve reached Caleb-,”

You hang up with ringing ears and fingers clenched too tightly around your phone. When you inhale, it feels like ice pouring over your lungs and cooling through your chest. It’s not like hearing a ghost, not yet. What hurts more is how normal it sounds. How easy it is to pretend he’s on the other line, when you know you’ll never actually reach him again. 

You pace around your living room a few times before you work up the nerve to try again. You wouldn’t have tried at all if it wasn’t for how silent things got again. 

“You’ve reached Caleb Xia. If I missed your call, I’m probably flying, sleeping, oooor hangin’ out with more important people.”

You hang up again. This time, because you realize you’ve never heard his voicemail before. You can’t remember a time he’d neglected to answer your call. 

You knew he had a special ringtone for you: the audio from a video of you complaining to him for one of his many arbitrary offenses against you. Stupid Caleb, dummy Caleb. It wasn’t normal, the kind of religious devotion he handled your insults with. It should have concerned you more than it filled your chest with a satisfied kind of warmth.

You had demanded he change it out of fear of sounding like a spoiled brat when you called him in front of his friends, but he had refused, insisting they’d all be jealous instead. You were almost positive he was delusional but either way he always knew when it was you calling, and he always answers. Answered. 

He sounded bright. Warm. The kind of charming that got him a locker full of love letters in high school and a loyal friend group during his years away from you. Nothing like your Caleb.

It had frustrated you more when you were younger. You didn’t make friends that easily when you first came to live with Gran. It always felt like everyone was speaking an entirely different language from you. It was a while before you learned the right things to say, the right time to laugh and when silence felt awkward for everyone around you. 

Caleb never had that problem. He never had to worry about when to laugh at other people’s jokes when he was the one telling them. People always blushed a little around him. When he acknowledged them it felt like basking in warm sunlight. It made people just a little more eager to please him than others, even if they didn’t realize it. 

When it was just the two of you, Caleb never felt like sunshine. He was all-encompassing. Not quite warm, but heavy. Smothering you with the weight of the gravity he manipulated. When it was just the two of you, it felt like there was no one else in the world. So why did he need anyone else?

“It’s good for people to care,” he’d said when he ditched movie night for the third time to go play with the neighborhood kids, “It’s good if they notice.”

“Notice what?” you’d pouted. Wasn’t it enough for you to notice him? When all you ever wanted was for him to keep looking at you?

“If we go missing.” His eyes had gone colder then, the way they sometimes did. Like the conversation was over. It’s the only time you didn’t feel like you were in the same orbit. That was your least favorite Caleb. You loved him all the same.

“You’ve reached Caleb Xia. If I missed your call, I’m probably flying, sleeping, oooor hangin’ out with more important people. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you when I can.”

It wasn’t anything special. Impersonal but warm enough to make the listener feel like they were in on the joke. Sunny, golden Caleb. Not your Caleb. Close enough to hurt anyways. 

The line beeps. You stand there in silence for a solid thirty seconds, nothing but heavy breathing escaping you. Then you feel it. The sensation is unfamiliar, awkward, feels like its being wrenched out of your chest. A pained whimper, followed by a choked wail, and then sobbing that burns through your throat and tears that feel searing against your skin. 

You can’t bring yourself to say anything. Your throat won’t form the words. Instead you sob until the time limit runs out. Then you call again. And again. And again. It will be a while before you stop crying. Longer before the battery on your phone runs out and you have to stop calling. You remind yourself, once again, that it will never be your choice to let go.

Caleb wasn’t sure what to expect, when he recovered and charged up his old phone. It was an impulsive decision, one he had abstained from in all the chaos of surgeries, training, flying through the ranks of the fleet. 

Part of him knew, maybe, that any piece of you more concrete than the single picture of you in his otherwise barren apartment would snap the feeble resolve he was hanging on to like a lifeline. Part of him knew he was Orpheus and that he would always look back. 

He tested himself a lot before he let himself have that connection back. The temptation of being able to contact you. He watched you through cameras until he could make it thirty seconds before he had to stop his chip from short circuiting. He waited until he could go an entire shift without checking up on your doctor, partner, artist friend. That one took longer. He even walked your daily route a few times, hood covering his head and a mask over his face until he convinced himself he wouldn’t reach for your wrist if you happened to cross paths. He still wasn’t sure he’d have managed it.

The temptation to go through your old messages was almost unbearable, but he hadn’t earned the right yet. He’d intended just to test himself once more, but the sight of one unplayed voicemail from you stopped him short. 

It looked wrong, sitting there. He’d never had a voicemail from you. Your number was the only one never set to silent. Halfway through a flight, in the middle of the night, during a class. You were never off limits. 

It didn’t sit right with him to leave it unplayed. It felt like proof of how far away you really were. He listened to the voicemail.

For a while, there is nothing but pained and shaky breathing. That in itself is enough for Caleb to clench his metal fist by his side, to bite down on his tongue just to feel a little bit of the pain he thinks he should in this moment. Half in self-punishment and half to feel closer to you. 

At the sound of your sob, something in him breaks. Like the spark of a livewire, the shattering of a glass wall, the whirring of the chip inside his brain.

When Caleb listens to you cry for the first time since the lab, he is suddenly a child again, slamming his fists and his shoulders into the one-way mirror where he watches you sob as they tear you apart over and over again. He is suddenly heaving with broken fingers and his forehead pressed against the glass. He won’t look away. He won’t let you go through it alone. He will always be by your side.

He won’t hang up the phone. He will ignore the ringing in his ears, the panicked breathing trying to wrench itself from his chest, the grating noise of your broken sobs. He won’t let you go through it alone. He will always be by your side. 

He’ll bite down on his tongue until it bleeds. It will be a while until he tastes the copper in his mouth. He won’t stop playing the voicemail until the phone dies. He reminds himself, once again, that it will never be his choice to let go. 

[inchesinbetweenus]

Daybreak (series) - One Year Ago

pairing: josh washington x fem!reader

warnings: mention of head trauma, mentions and descriptions of death serial killers, gore, anxiety, panic, and fire.

word count: approx. 3.5k

genre: thriller romance

summary: What if Josh wasn't the psycho? What if a real serial killer was hiding on the mountain? Would your favorite group of teens survive two real threats?

You've been friends with Chris since you were young, and when Josh came along, the three of you were inseparable. You've been invited to Blackwood Pines, the Washingtons' lodge, for the weekend. Expecting a good time to enjoy winter break and quality time with your friends, never would you have imagined it'd end with a police investigation.

One year later, Josh invites you all back up on the anniversary of his sisters' disappearances. You agree, but only because you want to be there for Josh. Otherwise, you'd never step foot in that place again. The Washington boy insists that it's safe now, but your gut tells you differently.

Will you make it to the end? Or will you be one of those the group tells the police about with tears in their eyes?

A tiny butterfly flapping its wings today may lead to a devastating hurricane weeks from now. The smallest decision can dramatically change the future. Psychology wasn’t your first pick that semester; something easier seemed more fitting for a first-year. Not something quite so introspective. There were positives, though. For example, Joshua Washington, one of your best friends, was in that class. Hence why, you were currently seated at a large granite kitchen island in the Blackwood Pines Lodge, a ski lodge on a mountain owned by the Washingtons. Technically, you were supposed to have a weekend getaway to celebrate the new year, but your grade was beginning to slip lower than you’d like. 

“No wayyy,” The male voice whined, a voice you knew too well. “Homework? Seriously, [Name], that’s so lame.” 

You looked up at the teasing blond. Your eyes rolled as Chris walked up to your kitchen spot. His boots tracked in snow, his hair and jacket wet from the melting ice. He grabbed a handful of chips from a bowl you had set out for a snack.  Josh walked in behind him. His brown hair was tucked under a white knitted beanie, his ears peeking out and slightly red. Playfully shoving Chris’s shoulder,  Josh came to your rescue. 

“Give her a break,” The older boy chuckled. “Our professor has been up her ass about turning in this assignment before Monday.”

“Which is tomorrow.” You popped a chip into your mouth, “I don’t have any other time to do it.”

Chris sighed in solidarity, “Major bummer, dude.” 

“Tell me about it.” You flipped the page of your textbook, but at least the worst of it was done.

Josh came up behind you, hands gripping your shoulders in an attempt to massage the tense muscles. 

“But she’ll finish by the time pizza gets here, right?” 

Your head rolled back slightly as Josh rubbed your shoulders, a sigh releasing. You tried to ignore the way your skin pricked under his touch. The warmth of his hands, along with their methodical movements, completely melted away the built-up stress. This wasn’t the first time, so he knew exactly how to help. 

“Oh definitely.” Your hand pointed to the document on your laptop: “I’m almost done with the essay questions.”

“Those were easy, you’ve got this.” With a final pat, Josh pulled his hands away from your shoulders. “I had it done in a night.”

“This stuff is totally your thing, of course you did.”

Chris laughed at the two of you. You had been pining over each other for years. The blonde is often caught between the two of you, hearing confessions from each party. Never to each other, of course. You both valued your friendship more than indulging in any “childish crush” (Chris knew it was much more than that). 

He couldn’t recall exactly when it started, but he was sure Josh fell first. 

If he had to guess, it was probably at the beginning of high school. The three of you had met in third grade. You were Chris’s neighbor, and he introduced you to Josh when the older male came to a playdate. Since then, you three have been inseparable. A friendship not many find. Even in high school, when you drifted into different social circles, you still found time for each other. You all worked together very well, contrasting each other yet fitting together perfectly. It seemed a miracle, and Chris couldn’t be happier with his best friends, except when they remained painfully stubborn about their feelings for each other. Chris loved playing matchmaker, but you both refused to humor the idea. 

It was moments like this, the two of you teetering on the edge of romantic affection, that Chris wanted to burst with all the secrets of feelings he had been entrusted with. He knew better than that. You’d both hate him forever, and it wouldn’t be as satisfying as if you two found each other yourselves. So here he found himself again, stuck between you two. A knowing smile grew on his face.

Between the massage, the gentle hum of the refrigerator, and the lack of proper sleep last night, you could practically fall asleep. Alas, you had an assignment to complete. Opening your eyes,  you caught the smug look on Chris’s face and had to suppress an eye-roll. Your fingers fidgeted with your pen. Your own grin growing on your face.

“So where’s this firewood you two went out to go get?” You raised an eyebrow at the two empty-handed boys. 

Chris’s smirk was wiped straight off his face, and Josh hung his shoulders dejectedly. Both let out an embarrassed chuckle.

“We couldn’t find the axe.” Chris admitted. 

To add to their embarrassment, you snorted. You were trying to stifle a laugh; it failed terribly. It was now your turn to be shoved by Josh.

“I’d like to see you try and look for that thing.” 

“I probably could, knowing you two.” 

Chris shook his head. “An animal probably ran off with it.” 

You turned towards Chris with a perplexed expression. A slight glance to your side showed Josh doing the same thing. 

“Or an axe murderer!” He continued, now with the tone of someone telling a ghost story.

“There isn’t anyone else on the mountain, Chris.” You corrected, wanting to shove any idea of there being a threat out the window. 

“Actually-” Josh began.

Your head whipped towards the brunette. “What? Your dad said we were the only ones here.” 

“Hey, hey, let me finish.” Josh chuckled at your paranoia, “There was this guy who told my parents not to build this place. It’s on indigenous land, 'belongs to nature' or whatever he said.” Josh shook his head, “A nutjob.”

An unsure silence hung in the air. You and Chris shared an unsettled expression.

“..But he doesn’t live here, right?” Chris asked, his voice wavering for just a second.

“If he does, nobody’s found him. My parents had rangers sweep the mountain and they couldn’t find any evidence of him currently living here.” Josh shrugged before leaning back against the cabinet behind him. His arms crossed as he rested there. “I seriously doubt it. It’s brutal out there.”

You found some comfort in his words, but a bit of paranoia couldn’t help but creep in. Like a scary story, someone told you as a kid that still hangs over you as an adult. One that still keeps you wary of your open closet door at night.

A shiver ran up your spine as you turned back to your laptop. Chris shook off the goosebumps, pricking the back of his neck. Before he could say anything, there was a knock on the door beside you three. 

“Hey! Let us in; we’ve got the pizza.” Beth’s voice yelled from the other side. She had gone with Mike, Emily, and Jessica to get the pizza. The three could’ve figured it out independently, but Beth didn’t want to risk them getting lost.  

“Hurry, I’m freezing my tits off out here.” Emily added from behind him.

Josh laughed at the comment as he pushed off the counter he was leaning on. 

“Finished with that assignment, [Name]?” A fleck of teasing in his words.

“Yes, actually.” You typed in the last few words of your completely bullshit attempt at the assignment. It would work, but it was definitely the bare minimum. Your usual in that class. 

“Good timing.” Josh grinned at you as he opened the door for the group.

❄❄❄

You squinted your eyes as you peered out the kitchen window. You tried your best to see Beth as she took out the trash, but the snow and the window’s glare made it difficult to see at night. Seeing her successfully dump the garbage, you focused back on the dishes. Hannah worked behind you, collecting more trash left around the room.

“Thanks for doing the dishes, [Name].” Hannah smiled at you. 

You turned to return the smile at the younger girl. Hannah and Beth were like little sisters to you. They were close with their brother, so naturally, they were close to you. They loved having an older girl to talk to whenever you came over. Josh’s family truly felt like part of your own. Another reason you couldn’t bring yourself to admit your feelings. You couldn’t risk losing them all.

“Of course, Han.” You dried a dish. “The others didn’t seem like much help.”

The rest of the group had gone upstairs, suspiciously all together. You were slightly confused by their giggles as you had watched them all ascend the stairs earlier, but you brushed it off as just teenage antics. It’s not like they would do any real harm. 

Hannah laughed at your comment, “They’re our guests, [Name]. I wouldn’t ask them to do that.”

“You’re too nice. They left such a mess in the kitchen. Should’ve made one of the guys take out the trash.” A grin spread across your face as you eyed Hannah reading a note on her laptop, “Like Mike⁓.”

Hannah’s face burned red at the mention of her little crush. You couldn’t help but giggle at her. She glanced down at her note before looking up at you. Her face was scrunched in an expression of confusion. You had turned back to the dishes, the warm water running down your hands. 

“Do you know something?” Hannah asked, a fleck of hope in her voice.

“I’m just teasing you, Hannah.” Your hands squeezed the blue dish soap out of the sponge. “I will say though, Mike doesn’t seem to happy with Emily.” You looked at Hannah over your shoulder. “Maybe he’s waiting for someone to come save him from being a lapdog his whole life.”

You felt bad for Hannah. She often beat herself up over her crush on Mike. Believing she wasn’t good enough or pretty enough for him. You knew it was the opposite, but she was too determined to pursue him. Sometimes, you would give into her delusions; hope kept people going. That was one of the few things you learned from your Psychology class. It wasn’t all bad.

“Maybe…” Hannah looked up at you with a bright smile, a look of excitement in her eyes. “[Name] can I borrow some of your makeup?”

The random question caused you to raise an eyebrow at the teen. “Sure, it’s in the guest bedroom next to Josh’s- but why?” 

Hannah had run up the stairs the second she heard you say yes. “Thank you, [Name]! You’re the best!” Her hurried escape left you even more confused. 

A sigh fell from your lips as you returned to finish the last dishes. The crackling of the fire filled the room as Hannah had turned off the music on her laptop. The rushing water of the faucet and the gentle scrubbing of the dishes were ironically peaceful from how it had been ten minutes prior. Beth’s entry into the lodge broke the quiet. She kicked the snow off her boots before stepping onto the hardwood. She took more care than most of them did. Her coat was hung next to the door, and Beth walked towards you in the kitchen. 

“Where’s Hannah?” She asked, noticing her twin’s absence.

You could only offer her a shrug, “Ran upstairs asking for my makeup. I don’t know what got into her.”

Beth shook her head with a sigh. She loved her sister, but she could be painfully naive sometimes. Beth often worried for her, knowing others would take advantage of her. 

“Does anyone ever know what she does?”

You laughed, knowing she was right. “At least she’s already smarter about drinking than her brother. Josh is wasted.” Your elbow pointed toward Chris and Josh, sleeping on the sofas. The twins had moved him to a comfier place to sleep than the kitchen counter. How he managed to crash there, nobody knew. 

“Everyone is smarter than Josh about drinking.” Beth made the jab at her brother. If he was awake, he would’ve retorted with something about Beth’s friend choices or music taste. But he wasn’t, so she enjoyed the silence that followed her insult. 

“Touché.”

Beth walked over to the sofas where the older boys slept. She chuckled at Josh’s sleeping face. Her hands reached out towards the fire, letting it warm her up. She turned around, catching a glance at Chris’s face. It was covered in drawings and squiggles. Another soft laugh left her lips as she got a closer look. 

“Who did that to Chris?” She asked you as you exited the kitchen. You had finished with the dishes and decided it would be good to help Beth get Josh and Chris in order. They still had their shoes on as they lay on the furniture. 

“Oh, that?” You rolled your eyes, but a smile pulled at your lips. “Emily and Jessica found a marker and couldn’t resist.” You had watched the group torment the sleeping blonde while you were preoccupied trying to keep Josh from falling off his chair. It was moments of childish pranks like those that you were glad you hadn’t aged out of yet. 

Beth laughed at the image of Emily and Jessica drunkenly drawing on Chris’s face. 

“Hope it’s not permanent.”

“I think it is.” You winced Beth, following suit. 

You moved over to the sofa, where Josh was currently asleep on. The warmth of the fire hummed against your skin even at this distance. Eyebrows scrunching as you saw Josh’s snow boots touching the leather sofa.

“Of course his boots are still on,” You thought, cringing at the mud drying on the leather.

Your hands carefully lifted Josh’s feet, giving you space to sit at the edge of the furniture. Resting his feet on your lap, you began carefully untieing his snow boots. The male squirmed under your touch, mumbling something incoherent. You and Beth shared a chuckle.

“They’re so gone.” She shook her head.

Beth pushed herself off the floor. The faint blue glow of Hannah’s laptop caught her eye. The music was turned off, but she had left it on? Beth stepped around the discarded beer bottles and cans on the floor. She made a mental note to pick those up later. Before Beth reached the laptop, she caught a glimpse of something moving outside. She could’ve sworn it was a person, but reason wanted to say otherwise.

“Hey, did you see that? Dad said it would just be us this weekend… Josh?”

“He’s out cold.” You rolled your eyes at how dead asleep he was. You tried poking at his side, a spot he was always ticklish. Nothing. “What’d you see, Beth?” 

The brunette shook her head, “It was probably nothing.”

As she got closer to Hannah’s laptop, Beth realized there was a note resting on it.

“What’s this?” She said to herself, reaching for the paper. It was blank on one side, but on the other was a message.

‘Hannah, 

You look so damn hot in that shirt… bet you’re even hotter out of it. 

Come to the guest room at 2:00 am ;)

Mike’

Beth shook her head as she read it. It was obviously not Mike’s handwriting, and Hannah should’ve known that. 

“You said Hannah ran upstairs for your makeup earlier?”

You looked up, slipping Josh’s other boot off his foot. Your head tilted at her question.

“Yeah, why?”

Beth let out a sigh, “Oh my god. What’d our naive sister get into now?”

“What do you mean?” You tapped Josh’s shins as you finished removing his boots. He snuggled into the sofa. Pushing his legs off your lap, you stood. You waited for Beth’s response, but unfortunately, she wouldn’t be the one to tell you what happened.

Someone ran past the kitchen window you had previously been watching Beth out of. The blur of the person made it difficult for you to see from a distance, but Beth knew precisely who it was.

“Hannah?” The teen exclaimed after seeing her sister running into the woods alone. She turned to you for a moment as she grabbed her jacket. “[Name], wake up Josh!” Beth’s voice raised in alarm. 

Footsteps down the stairs rang loudly around the once quiet room as the rest of the group came running down the stairs. Sam was leading the group with a concerned look on her face. 

“Where’d she go?” Sam asked Beth, concern weaved in every word.

“She’s outside! What’s going on?” Beth ran past them all outside, shoving past Matt. “Where’s she going?” 

You had been trying to shake Josh awake but to no avail. He was out cold. Unfortunately, he was the one who knew the woods the best. Looks like you were going to be the “adult” in this situation. Fuck. Anxiety and adrenaline were already pricking at your skin. 

“Come on, Josh. You need to wake up this time.” A sigh escaped your mouth as you realized it was pointless. Everyone is now outside.

“It was just a prank, Han.” You heard Emily yell out. This time, the eye-roll could not be suppressed. Of course. They’d pulled one of their stupid jokes. But Hannah wasn’t laughing this time. None of us were. She was often the one being pranked as she was so trusting. This time, it seemed the prank went too far. 

You searched around the room for your boots. The silence was no longer peaceful but eerie. You quickly tied them on, wishing you could be physically faster than you were. Your fingers burned as the fabric of the thick laces scratched against your skin. Ashley rushed into the room, looking for you. 

“[Name]! Beth ran after Hannah. Sam’s going to look but we don’t want her to get lost.”

You sharply inhaled. You already knew Beth would try to go after her sister. Beth was always protective of her twin and vice versa. They were inseparable. 

“I’ll go. I know the woods better than any of you guys. If we don’t come back in ten minutes, call the police.” Your hands grabbed your jacket, slipping it on as you rushed towards the doors. 

The teens all stood, looking in the direction the girls ran. 

“Where’d they go?” You asked, looking at the different openings into the woods. 

“Hannah ran in that direction, and Beth followed. She’s calling after her, so you might be able to find them,” Sam responded quickly, providing helpful information. 

“Okay, I’ll try to find them. If we’re not back in ten minutes you need to call the police.” 

Sam nodded, the others remaining silent. The consequences of their actions become very sobering. 

You kept walking in the direction they pointed, “Please try to wake Josh and Chris. They’ll know better where Hannah could’ve gone.”

Ashley and Matt pushed back into the lodge, tasking themselves with waking the older boys. The rest of the group was growing anxious, but you paid no mind to them now. Hannah and Beth were your priorities. 

“Beth! Hannah! Where are you guys?” You yelled as you got further into the woods.

It was dark and windy. The once serenely quiet snowy forest grew into something sinister. The shadows of the trees seemed to grow pointed. Your footsteps and the harsh wind drowned out the silence. Even with your boots and jacket, you were cold. You couldn’t imagine how Hannah felt without them. Your lungs burned as you ran. The harsh air, also low in oxygen, made this harder than you had thought. But you had to find them. You had to.

Further down the path, you had spotted Beth’s footprints in the show. The snow was fresh and powdery, which meant it was starting to blow away in the wind. You were running behind, running out of time. You blinked away the snow that blew into your eyes. Soon, you came across a fork in the road. The wind had blown away the footsteps; you couldn’t tell which ones were Beth’s and what was just the texture of the snow. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” Your breath fogged as you spoke, the cloud blowing away in the wind. This damn wind. You cursed whatever controlled the weather before picking the path on the left. Some remnants of footprints remained on that path, so you stuck with it.

“Beth! Hannah!” You screamed out for the twins, praying you’d hear them call back. You never did. No matter how many times you screamed and cried for the girls. Their response never came. What you did find was a herd of elk. They startled you as you ran down the path. Falling back, you let out a gasp. You spooked them, so they backed off. You continued to run through, but the woods got thicker and darker. You pulled your phone out of one of the jacket’s pockets. With your fingers freezing from the cold, you found it difficult to type your passcode. 

“Come on- come on!” You pleaded through gritted teeth. Eventually, you were able to get the flashlight on. It lit up the dense foliage, allowing you a better look at the forest. The white snow made the light extra bright, almost blinding. You squinted at first as your eyes got used to the light.

“Hannah!” You paused, waiting for a response. Nothing. “Beth!” Silence.

Your heart pounded so loud you doubted you’d hear them even if they called back.  You pressed on, running along the path even further. You didn’t want to veer from it too far in hopes of not getting lost. The cold pierced through your jeans, chilling you to the bone. You ran on, unaware of the danger ahead. A rock came hurtling from the trees, making a nauseating crack sound against the back of your head. Your vision went white as you stumbled to the floor. You gasped for air as your body paused. Your face pressed into the snow, and your head felt warm and heavy. You lay there, hearing something in the woods beside you. You glanced around, but your vision was hazy. You saw the orange glow of a fire and an earsplitting screech. Whatever made the sound in the bushes had run off further down the path. There was a person beside you now; you could hear him. 

“Fucking kids.” He mumbled, placing a hand on your back. “She’s still breathing, she’ll make it.”

You found fighting off the sleep that wanted to overtake your body harder. Your eyelids grew heavy, and the snow felt almost warm. Your mind seemed to lull you to sleep, admitting it might be safe to rest here.  The world faded to black. Sam’s scream ripped through the void. 

“[Name]!”

And then nothing.

[coff-in]

Okie so I was thinking about requesting for a while but never stuck with an idea. Maybe something with a reader who has been neighbors with the graves since they lived in the apartments. Like they’re a tad younger than Ashley (about two years) and looks up to the both of them like they’re older siblings and follows them around like a lost puppy. Like reader’s parents would want them to make friends with other kids but they refuse because “I want Leyley and Andy:(“ . They’re a little too touchy during childhood to both siblings, and it might bother Andrew and Ashley (Ashley a little more than Andrew lol) but eventually the neighbor mellows out. They’re still sweet and kind to those around them but they’re not as physically touchy and trying to talk to other people. Like, reader explains they can’t make it to a hangout cause they made plans with other people and the Graves siblings are like “Wait, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go-“ And now they unconsciously try to do anything to get reader to stay with them and isolate them from others. Like taking any opportunity to get what they want. Andrew’s sick? How about you skip your date to help him out? Their parents are gone for a while? Sleepover time! Just like we used to do when we were little! Oh you can’t find you’re sleeping bag and it’s conveniently colder than Antarctica? Cuddle time! You’re now stuck between two attractive goth siblings. And you’re not gonna ever leave. Ever.

notes from coff-in: i feel it in my heart (and in my delusional head) that ashley would constantly sneak over to [reader]'s place to hang out with them. and if ashley's going then andrew has to follow her to make sure she doesn't cause any trouble.

[gender neutral] reader-insert

[reader] following around leyley and andy put put her very on edge. why the fuck are you following them around?! are you trying to steal andy's gaze, you fucking floozy? go away! back off! andy's is hers!! it would take befriending leyley first before you can actually hang out with them both, and befriending leyley can take a lot. she's whiny, and clingy, and pushes and pulls [reader] away and close all the time. like an ocean of insecurity... but they're finally able to safely traverse her waves.

andy appreciates [reader]'s patience. he's also happy that ashley was able to make a genuine friend. they both found [reader]'s fixation on them weird, like go hang out with someone else already! but eventually [reader]'s unstoppable force clashed with them, the unmovable objects, and they were able to be friends. best friends, even! with friendship bracelets, sleepovers, going out to parks or streets together; honestly three peas in a pod.

other people think you're weird for hanging out with the graves siblings as much as you do. some girls talk [reader] being so brave to touch andrew so brazenly with ashley around. it's not too much of a big deal- i mean, you can't touch him for too long without giving ashley some attention too :3

and then [reader] gets older, they notice how distant they get. sure, school can be pretty hectic and busy but surely you would still have time for them, right? why aren't you coming over as much? sure, their mom isn't the most welcoming... but they can still come over to your place! oh... you're busy studying... and tomorrow you'll be out with other friends... well, they can join you! problem solved :)

ashley throws a fucking tantrum over [reader] having other friends. what do you mean you have other friends?! are you leaving them?! you can't do that! you chose them! they chose you! ashley's spreading rumors and fighting harlots in the parking lot in order for you to stay close to them. andrew is less... obvious about it? he offers to do your work (he's done it before for ashley) in exchange for you to hang out with them. simple, right? he's not asking much and you get guaranteed passing grades in return. just snuggle up next to them while you watch a movie together... simple.

they really don't know why you'd throw this away for other people.

-----

coff-in

[kaykay0315]

Na Baek-Jin x F!Reader Part 1

No y/n   Warnings: fiighting, violence, same warnings as the show tbh.

Notes: You’re depicted with your hair up in a ponytail with a ribbon and brown hair

Word Count: 1.5k

Synopsis: You recently transferred to Yeoil High School, you just want to get through school, get good grades and stay out of trouble. You’ve had enough of it in your past and don't want  to get involved with it any longer. But the world seems to not like the path you refuse to take, so it decides to put you in the worst place of all…sitting next to Na Baek-Jin, leader of the Union.

You really just wanted  a fresh start. Your mother convinced you it would be a good idea, that this was a great opportunity. It was a prestigious school, its brightest minds go here, They go on to be leaders, innovators, and change makers ....”It's a launchpad for lifelong success!” Your mother said, when trying to get you excited to go, but you also had to go alone. 

Maybe it's a good thing that you get to go alone, move into a one room flat near the school, nicely placed above a convenient store. 

You wouldn't have to worry about all the pressure from your mom and constantly be monitored, you're actually a bit surprised she didn't go with you, but then again, her job is more important than…this.

You finally placed the last of your bags in your flat, thankfully it came partly furnished, with a full size bed frame and mattress, a very used, but loved, couch that could maybe squeeze in four people, if they are half way on each other's laps that is…and a semi functioning tv surprisingly.

You dust off your hands and place your hands on your hips leaning back “well, guess it's time to go eat.” you grin to yourself and grab your wallet and new keys to your place. 

Making your way down towards the convenient store. The sun had just finished setting, and you traveled most of the day, so you were craving snacks. 

The door dinged as you entered, greeted by a very bored young college worker, not even bothering to look up from their phone and scroll lazily. You don’t really care though, you're just there to get your snacks and get out, maybe binge a movie you had downloaded. 

You're supposed to  be getting your wifi installed sometime this week. Your landlord has not specified when yet, maybe you should send him a message tomorrow and ask if he has any updates on that. 

You had grabbed a third item already, you had something sweet, something spicy, and something salty. Finally onto the drinks, definitely want either strawberry or banana milk…oooh maybe both. 

You gleefully grab one of each flavor, your arms full and turning to make your way to the front to check out, when you bump into something hard, you stumble back a bit off balance for a second before quickly regaining it, however your milks went flying down popping open with some milk splashing onto the brickwalls shoe. 

Wait…a brickwall’s shoe? You quickly look up to be met with the most piercing eyes you've ever seen. ‘Oh that's definitely not a brick wall.’ you think to yourself. You're a bit in shock, you hadn't seen or heard anyone when you had entered, maybe you were just too zoned out, only focusing on your hunger and not watching your surroundings. 

You finally pull your thoughts together and blurt out 

‘I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention, are you okay?” looking at him making sure you didn't shove him too hard, but to be honest you felt like you were the one being shoved with how forcefully you bounced off of him, hell! you thought you had run into a wall that just so happened to spawn directly behind you in a convenient store! 

He quickly glanced at his shoes and back up to your face, it looked like he was about to say something when someone called out to him. Coming around the corner was another guy, tall with shaggy hair and glasses, he was wearing a hoodie and had what was a dangling unlit cigarette in his mouth. “Lets go, i already got what I needed” The guy you had just ran into clenches his jaw slightly and sighs, simply walking away and out the door. 

The classroom buzzed with chatter as the homeroom teacher stepped in, followed by a quiet girl in a crisp uniform. The moment she entered, Na Baek-jin lifted his eyes, not out of curiosity, but out of habit. He liked knowing his surroundings.

She stood at the front of the room, shifting slightly under the weight of so many eyes analyzing her.

"This is the new student. She transferred here from Seoul Arts High. She’ll be joining us for the rest of the year."

Na Baek-jin noted the way she clutched the strap of her backpack. She wasn’t scared…just… calculating, maybe. Like someone used to watching before acting. Then he finally looked at her, really looked at her and realized, it's her. The same girl who had bumped into him the night before at the convenience store. That struck a chord.

She gave a small bow, her voice soft but clear. “Please take care of me.” 

The seat beside Na Baek-jin was empty. Of course it was.

Most students were too intimidated to sit next to him unless they had to. The rumors, the quiet stare, the reputation…it all worked like an invisible force field.

The teacher gestured. “You’ll sit over there, beside Na Baek-jin.”

She nodded once, her black ribbon swaying slightly as she turned and walked through the narrow rows of desks. Each step was precise but unhurried. No one could quite tell if she was nervous, confident, or just good at pretending.

As she approached, Baek-jin glanced sideways. Long ponytail, perfectly tied ribbon. Not a wrinkle on her uniform. But her shoes, clean, but scuffed around the edges. She pulled out the chair beside him and sat down. Didn’t look at him right away. Just organized her desk; pen, notebook, schedule, all placed neatly. Shespared a quick glance and nod of acknowledgement towards him. He kept his face straight the rest of class, onlt focusing towards the boards or his notes….

One month earlier: Seoul Arts High School

The rooftop was quiet except for the hum of air vents and the distant echo of yelling from the gym. Ha-eun’s black ribbon fluttered in the wind, still tied neatly even as blood stained the corner of her collar.

Three boys were groaning on the concrete. One was trying to crawl to his feet. The other two weren’t moving.

Ha-eun stood in the middle of them, not panting. Not trembling. Just… still. She rolled her shoulder with a soft wince. That last one had gotten a solid hit to her ribs before she ended it.

“You started this,” she muttered, glancing down at the ringleader—the one who’d yanked her bag off earlier that week and told her she should “smile more.”

He spat on the floor beside her shoe. “You’re fucking insane…”

She crouched in front of him, her voice soft and scarily calm. “No. I’m just done letting people like you decide who gets to speak and who doesn’t.”  She didn’t wait for a reply, he wasn’t with it.

Her footsteps echoed down the stairwell. No one was there; most students were still in class. She moved quietly, adjusting her sleeve where it had been torn, tugging it to cover the scrape on her forearm. The pain was distant, her mind was already shifting ahead.

The building smelled like dust and old chalk. On the first floor, she ducked into the girls’ bathroom. A girl washing her hands gave her a double take, eyes widening at the blood.

You offered her a small, polite smile.

“It’s not mine,” she said flatly, and walked into a stall.

Fifteen minutes later she steps out into the fading afternoon sun. The breeze was cool against her bruised ribs. Her ribbon still held tight.

No one followed. No one saw.

She pulled out her phone, unlocked it, and opened her planner app.

Trigonometry review – p. 124-127

Lit essay due Monday – outline tonight

Midterm chem vocab – flashcards (30 min)

A faint ringing echoed in her ears, the kind that followed an adrenaline crash, but her focus stayed sharp. She could still make it home by 5:30 if she didn’t stop.

She took the quieter roads, weaving through alleyways and shop-lined backstreets. School bag slung over one shoulder. Headphones in, but no music playing.

It was a habit. She liked to look like she wasn’t listening. People acted differently when they thought no one was paying attention.

Halfway home, she passed a cracked mirror nailed to a telephone pole.

She paused.

In the reflection, her face was calm, unbothered. Hair still neat. The ribbon still perfect.

But if you looked closely….you’d see it.

The tightness in her jaw.

The redness on her knuckles.

The glint in her eyes that didn’t belong to a girl who just studied hard and kept to herself.

She fixed the collar of her blouse, brushing away a faint smudge of blood.

“No one saw,” she murmured, then started walking again.

Soooooo what do we think???? I haven’t written in a long time T T

Part 2 Part 3