#I know you math lovers out there have been waiting for this moment

[sunxxxie]

I need someone who's really passionate about math to go off ranting about stuff like the golden ratio in nature and how maths is the language of the cosmos and whatnot

[reidmania]

a moment | s. reid

summary: two times there was a ‘moment’ between you and spencer, and one time he did something about it.

warnings; best friends to lovers, fem reader, pinning, this based off a lorelai and luke edit i saw, idk if its edited or makes any sense tbh!! sorry! longing, kinda self doubt idk, happy ending yay!!

an; this is for lia. And was written in like an hour so i really dont want the hate guys. If it sucks i cannot be held responsible.

You walk into the bullpen, scanning the usual chaos of the bullpen The day’s already running long, and it’s barely even noon.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Spencer says, glancing up from his desk. His eyes are sharp behind his glasses, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. He’s half-hidden behind a wall of case files, as always, but somehow manages to throw his snark with precision.

you and spencer had been best friends since you started together, you got along with anyone but gravitated towards Spencer more than anyone else. Him and Penelope were the easiest for you to be around, you loved everyone but you had your favourites.

While Penelope had been bugging you to either kick up the courage to do something about your friendship with Spencer, or move on, you did neither.

"Oh, save it,," you fire back, tossing your bag on your desk. "I’m fashionably late. It’s a thing."

"Yeah, fashionably late in a profession like this. Very chic. Theres other ways to get here you know �� from your house-“

“Don’t even” you cut him off.

“Im just saying if you keep missing the same turn off every time maybe it’s a sign you should be going a different way.” He muttered.

“I didn’t miss the turn off.” You argued. You lied.

“You did.”

“No”

He said your name and you huffed.

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin as you sink into your chair. "Can we pretend, just for today, that you’re not right?"

"Well," Spencer says, leaning back in his chair, "I’m only right about ninety-seven percent of the time. So, technically, you’ve got a three percent chance of being right today. Want to take a gamble?"

You throw a crumpled paper at him. "Your math is annoying."

He catches it, eyes twinkling, and throws it back at you. "Annoying?"

“Yes, annoying. It hurts my head”

It’s easy between the two of you—this banter, this back-and-forth. It always has been, ever since the first case you worked together. Over time, it’s become second nature to tease him, push his buttons, and he always gives it right back. The tension slips away with every joke, but today, there’s something different about the way his eyes linger on you a beat too long, like he’s waiting for you to catch on.

You ignore it. You have to.

"So, what do we have?" you ask, holding out your hand for the file in his lap.

He passes it to you, fingers brushing against yours. It’s brief, but the touch sends a spark up your arm. Your eyes meet for a second longer than necessary, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t know what to say.

Spencer clears his throat, looking back down at the file. "This unsub’s a real charmer. I think he's using manipulation tactics to lure his victims. He’s got a pattern, but it’s subtle. Took me a while to piece it together."

"Took you a while? So, like... five minutes?" You grin, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced by something softer.

He laughs, a sound that always surprises you because it’s rare, but so genuine. "Try thirty. It was a real struggle."

"Wow. I almost feel bad for you."

His smile fades just a little, and when he looks at you again, there’s that shift. Something hovers between you, just under the surface, where the teasing usually stays. His eyes flicker over your face, and suddenly, you wonder if he’s about to say something else, something that would cross the line you’ve never acknowledged before.

Your heart skips, and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward a little. Your breath catches.

"So..." Spencer starts, but before the sentence can land, your phone buzzes on your desk. The sharp sound breaks the moment like a snapped thread. You jerk back, grabbing your phone.

"Hotch needs us in the conference room," you mutter, more to yourself than him, trying to get a grip on the swirling thoughts in your head. "We’ve got a lead."

Spencer blinks, clearly shaken out of whatever that was, and you stand up quickly, focusing hard on the case and not on the fact that you were about two seconds away from… what? Leaning in? Kissing him?

No. That’s not what this is. This is Spencer.

"Race you to the conference room?" he asks suddenly, the playful lilt back in his voice, but there’s still something lingering behind his eyes, a question neither of you seems ready to ask.

"Race? You’re literally taller than me, that’s cheating. I’m wearing heels!!"

"You can run in heels, can’t you?" He shoots you a smirk, the tension easing just enough for you to relax, even if your heart is still racing.

"Could. But i don't want to damage my gorgeous shoes," you huffed, yet already heading for the door.

"Gorgeous shoes?" He repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah that was actually the name of the shoes when i bought them. They had 'gorgeous shoes' written in big letters across the box." You smiled, tilting your head.

"Really?"

"No."

You make it halfway to the conference room before he catches up, the two of you slipping back into your usual rhythm. But as you walk into the room side by side, the unspoken thing still hangs between you. You don’t talk about it, and maybe you never will, but it’s there.

“Are you still coming over tonight?” He asked, looking down at you, eyes lingering on yours. You nod.

“It’s pizza night. Of course I am.”

And once again, you’re reminded that with Spencer, things have never been as simple as just best friends.

You’re standing in Spencer’s tiny kitchen, flour everywhere. And when you say everywhere, you mean it—on the counters, in your hair, smeared on his cheek where you definitely didn’t mean to slap him with dough earlier.

“This is going really well,” you deadpan, holding up the limp, misshapen pizza dough.

“Um.” He squints as he looks at the mess.

“Well.. you’re the genius who can outsmart anyone but apparently can’t figure out yeast,” you argue, pinning the blame on him. “Is it supposed to look like this?” You muttered, tilting your head.

“I think it’s fighting back. Maybe we’re the victims now.”

You both dissolve into laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt. This was supposed to be simple. Homemade pizza sounded like a cute idea, something easy to do on a night off, but it’s turned into chaos. The dough’s not cooperating, the sauce might be too watery, and you’re pretty sure you added way too much garlic. But that’s what makes it fun.

"Okay," Spencer says, hands raised in surrender. "I officially give up. This dough has outsmarted me."

"You’re giving up? Dr Spencer Reid, defeated by pizza dough?" You snatch the rolling pin from him, trying to take over, but the second you press down, the dough tears. "Okay, maybe it’s smarter than both of us."

Spencer steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the mess you've made. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and for just a second, everything feels different. The banter pauses. His breath is soft on your neck, his arm brushing against yours as he reaches to touch the dough. Your heart stutters, and you freeze, unsure of what to do next.

But then, with no warning, Spencer flicks flour at you.

"Hey!" you squeal, spinning around to face him, eyes wide. He looks so pleased with himself, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What? You had flour in your hair. I was just trying to help.”

"Sure, you were." You reach for the bag of flour, holding it up threateningly. "I will not hesitate to make this a war, Spencer."

He grins widely, almost daringly.

You grab a handful of flour and toss it at him in retaliation. "You are such a child."

“I’m just helping!” he protests, dodging your attack and grabbing the rolling pin like a shield. His laughter is contagious, and soon you’re both caught up in it, the tension slipping away into something lighter, easier.

You try to swipe more flour at him, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you mid-throw. His fingers wrap around your wrist gently, but the touch sends an unexpected shiver up your arm. You both freeze, the room suddenly too quiet again, his hand lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary.

His gaze flickers down to where his fingers rest against your skin, and then back up to meet your eyes. There’s a pause, just long enough for the air between you to thicken, something unspoken hanging between you. His thumb brushes your wrist lightly, and you wonder if he feels it too—the tension that’s been simmering all night, just beneath the surface.

You swallow hard, pulling your hand away, but not before you catch the briefest flicker of something in his expression. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and just like that, the moment slips away.

His eyes narrow playfully, and for a second, you think he might call your bluff. But instead, he just chuckles and steps back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Let’s not escalate this. We’re adults, after all."

"Adults who can’t make pizza," you mutter, dumping the ruined dough into the trash. "Guess we’ll have to order in. Again."

Spencer wipes his hands on a towel, still smiling. "I’ll let you pick the place this time. As long as it’s not that one with the weird crust you made us try last month."

"Oh come on, that was a bold choice! You just have no sense of adventure."

"I have a very good sense of adventure," he says, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes sparkling in that way that makes you feel like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. "I just like my pizza to taste like pizza."

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning, too. "Fine. We’ll get the boring pizza this time."

As you both settle into the living room, waiting for the pizza to arrive, you can't help but feel that lingering tension again. The kind that sneaks up on you when things get quiet, when the laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of you sitting side by side, closer than necessary.

You smile, nudging him with your elbow. "Who knew you were such a terrible cook, though?"

"I think we share equal blame here."

"Maybe," you admit, glancing at him. His eyes catch yours, and for just a moment, the playful air between you shifts. It’s small, like the brush of his hand earlier, like the way he’s looking at you now. Your heart skips again, and you wonder—just for a second—if maybe, possibly, you weren’t imagining it. You ignore it, there was too much that could go wrong if you didn’t.

It’s late in the afternoon when you hear the knock at your door. The sun's still out, casting a soft golden light through your living room windows, but it’s the last thing on your mind.

You’re dressed in something more put together than usual because, of course, Penelope had insisted on setting you up on this date tonight. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but she’d been so enthusiastic that you’d caved. You’d said yes to humor her, to get her off your back.

She had insisted that you needed something to get your mind off Spencer. You wondered if that was actually possible.

So when the knock comes, your stomach churns, thinking it might be the guy arriving too early. But when you open the door, it's not your date.

It’s Spencer.

He’s standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, hair slightly disheveled, and there’s a look on his face you can’t quite place. It’s tight, maybe a little frustrated, though he's trying hard to keep his expression neutral.

“Spence?” You lean against the doorframe, arching an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, eyes scanning you briefly before he looks down, then back up again. There’s tension in his posture, the kind you recognize when he’s overthinking something. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You don’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh.”

His face tightens even more, though he tries to hide it with a half-hearted shrug. “Did Penelope set you up with some guy?”

“Yeah?” You squinted trying to figure out how he knew that. You hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to talk about what had caused your sudden date or have to lie to him about why Penelope suddenly set you up when you have shown no intention of being interested in dating.

“Penelope told me. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, running his hand through his hair as if he was stressed. You didn’t understand, not really. You told Spencer everything so you could understand why he would be annoyed that you didn’t tell him this, but it seemed as if he took it personally.

You squint at him, crossing your arms. “What is your issue? You look like you want to strangle someone.”

He lets out a huff, avoiding your eyes again. “It’s nothing.”

You tilt your head, studying him. There’s something under the surface, and you’re not about to let it go. “Well you’re here so, obviously its not nothing … What’s going on?”

He finally looks up at you, his eyes sharp and filled with something you haven’t seen before. It catches you off guard for a moment. “It’s just—there was a moment.”

You blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “A moment?”

His voice drops, a little rougher now, a little more real. “Last week. When we were making pizza, and the week before that— and during- there was a moment.”

Your heart skips. You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you stay silent, letting him continue.

“I thought there was a moment,” he says, his frustration starting to leak through his words now. “I thought maybe something was… happening.”

Your chest tightens, the air in the room shifting as you meet his eyes. “There was.”

The confession comes out of your mouth before you even realize it, and the tension between you two spikes instantly, filling the space with an electric charge. You can feel it, the way everything has changed with those two words.

Spencer just stares at you, his brow furrowing slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to admit it. He takes a step forward, you step back almost unconsciously, and your heart beats faster in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice low, unsure.

He doesn’t stop moving, closing the gap between you even more, and his voice is soft but firm when he speaks. “Will you just stand still for a minute?”

Before you can say anything, before you can even process what’s happening, his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but it’s full of all the unspoken things that have been building between you for so long. You feel the world tilt, your hands instinctively moving to grip the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. For a second, everything else fades away—your date, the case, everything.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you just stare at each other. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, and his eyes search yours, full of something that feels too big to name.

Neither of you says anything for a long moment, the silence thick and heavy with everything that’s just shifted between you.

Then, as if in slow motion, you take a small step forward. It’s your turn now, the tables flipped, and you can see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he instinctively steps back.

“What are you doing?” he asks, echoing your earlier words, his voice low and a little breathless

You give him a small smile, feeling the tension twist tighter in your chest. “Will you just stand still for a minute?” You mirrored his words

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t move, and before he can say another word, you close the space between you and kiss him again.

This time, it’s different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss is deeper, more insistent, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It’s like everything you’ve both been holding back is finally breaking free, all the tension and the unspoken feelings rushing to the surface.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily, faces inches from each other. Your hands are still gripping the front of his jacket, his fingers still digging into your sides like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t move, neither of you do. You just stay there, staring at each other, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not thinking about the job, or the cases, or anything else. It’s just him.

He’s the first to break the silence, his voice quiet and almost disbelieving, He exhales, a long, relieved breath, his hand still resting on your waist. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

You shake your head, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “No. You weren’t imagining it.”

Another beat of silence passes, and then his lips quirk up into that small, crooked smile you’ve always liked so much. “Well, I guess we have Penelope to thank for this.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “Yeah, and she doesn’t even know it.”

His thumb brushes your side, a subtle touch, but enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Are you… still going on that date?”

The question hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you almost laugh. The idea of leaving now, of going out with some guy Penelope set you up with, feels absurd.

“No,” you say, your voice steady and certain. “I’m not.”

His smile widens, just a little. “Good.”

You grin up at him, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Yeah? Why’s that good?”

Spencer’s gaze softens, and for the first time, you see the real reason for his frustration, for all of this. He steps even closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his voice low and sincere.

“Because, there was a moment.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you meet his eyes, that familiar warmth spreading through you again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his lips ghosting yours, and the last bit of tension that’s been sitting between you melts away completely. He smiles, and before either of you can say anything else, he closes the gap and kisses you again.

[hyunsvngs]

𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞-𝐚-𝐡𝐨𝐞! - spiderman!han jisung x fem!reader

wc: 11.1k

cw: han jisung is spiderman, a brief attack of an alien in school, both characters are 18+ (legal) but are intended to be in high school, friends to lovers, jisung calling mc baby at any given moment

synopsis: you’re obsessed with spiderman, but after a certain event takes place, you become convinced your best friend and spiderman are the same person.

a/n: after a long wait… HEHE smut warnings under the cut and as usual 18+ MDNI!!!!!!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: brief mention of masturbation (both), oral (fem!rec), slightly switchy both parties, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, loss of virginity (both), cumswapping, relatively tame given that its me

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re intrigued.

Interested seemed like too little of a word to use for how you feel whenever you see the latest news report. In a world full of superhuman serums and bulletproof skin, he is still intriguing. Maths homework could be ignored, as far as you’re concerned - and that’s bold for you, because you love maths. You wonder if he likes maths, too.

Every night at 6pm sharp, you settle in front of the television and wait for the news. Spiderman, the hero in question, is always up to something. He loves shooting his webs across the tallest skyscrapers in the city, dangling from them precariously without a care before he lets out a loud, earth-shattering giggle and beats the newest bad-guy that your world has attracted. You always wince at the reports, wondering just how he healed from the injuries he must sustain. It had to be down to the spider venom, you supposed.

“He’s dangerous,” Your dad huffs. He’s lounging on his normal armchair, peeling leather be damned, munching on a bag of crisps. You grimace at his crisp covered digits motioning towards the television. You love your dad, really, and your mum - you just always differed in opinions when it came to Spiderman. He was so fucking cool, and you seriously feel like a child saying that all of the time, despite your best friend Jisung telling you that we all have our interests. “I mean, he’s putting normal civilians in danger. Friendly neighbourhood Spiderman my ass.”

“Honey,” Your mother admonishes, digging through her own bag of crisps. You briefly consider why you haven’t been offered one. They look tasty, when your father isn’t rubbing luminous orange dust onto his previously crisp white shirt. “You know she doesn’t like it when you say bad things about him. He- what was the word again, baby?”

“He intrigues me,” You mumble, pretending to erase equations from your homework. Your cheeks blaze crimson when your mother hums in agreement, nodding triumphantly to your father. You wish you could be as sassy as her sometimes. You’re more timid, hiding behind oversized hoodies and Jisung. He is a lot more confident than you, more loud and exuberant - you suppose that’s why he had adopted you as his all those years ago.

Your mother had been best friends with Jisung’s aunt, Sohee. She’s just like Jisung, zipping around the place at an insane pace to offer you snacks and drinks at every second. When you and Jisung had first met in preschool, you’d been drawing patterns in the mud with your grubby little fingers, hiding from the bullies. He’d criticised your drawing. He helped you fix it, though, chubby cheeks puffing out with a grin when it was good enough for his taste. Looking back now, that behaviour was so Jisung, but your mother had been delighted to find out that you’d already met her best friend’s son.

It had been easy becoming friends with him after that. Every day, he’d drag you by your wrist and take you to the yard, insisting on doing your co-operative drawings together. The teachers had a fit everyday on the state of you two by the end of your break, but your mothers had loved it, taking a million and one pictures a second. He stuck up for you both to the teachers, and then he stuck up for you to the bullies and it was like you’d known each other since birth. Inseparable at the hip, you’d been glued together throughout preschool, primary school and now high school - it doesn’t look like you’re getting rid of him anytime soon, either. You’d applied for the same colleges.

You don’t particularly want to be rid of him anyway. He’s alright, really, and you had a bit of a girly, high school crush on him. You would rather jump off of a building like Spiderman sans the webs if anyone found out.

Another thing Jisung is good for is listening to your rants. He waits for your call every night after the news had been on, and you clamber on your bed obediently after the report finishes to press on his contact.

“Jisung!” You squeal. There’s a lot of feedback on his end, and you hear a low ‘shit, fuck, oops, oh God’, until there’s a loud thud and he giggles, chiming through your tinny phone speakers. “... Ji? Are you okay?”

“Yep, sorry, baby,” He sounds out of breath, but you smile when he speaks anyway. Whenever he calls you baby, his designated nickname for you, it makes your heart flutter and you have to grimace to ignore it. His face pops into the little square designated to him, his cheeks blushing pink and round eyes wide. His hair is slightly damp, from what you’re not sure - but he looks cute. “I just got home. I was- I was running some errands for my aunt.”

“God, she’s got you running like crazy lately,” You mumble, still jotting down numbers on your homework. It’s taken you hours, but you always get distracted on nights like this. “Did you see it?”

Jisung hums, and then you hear him groan. He’s stretching, slightly toned honey-skinned arms appearing above his head in the plain oversized t-shirt he’s wearing. You try not to stare. “Did I see what?”

“The- the news, Sungie,” You feel shy mentioning it so outright. It is a weird interest, a weird thing to be obsessed with - Jisung often reassures you that it really isn’t, and his anime obsession was a lot worse. It was. You sigh, clearing your throat. “Spiderman. He was- he was super cool tonight.”

“Ooh, was he?” Jisung teases, chuckling when you groan in protest. “I’m only playing with you, baby. I saw it. He was super cool, wasn’t he?”

“Ha-ha, super cool, ‘cause he’s a superhero. You’re funny.”

“That’s why you keep me around,” Jisung chirps. “Hey, have you done the maths homework? I haven’t had time, because of the errands, y’know.”

“Hmm, yeah, I’m almost finished,” You aren’t. You’re far from it, really, but he doesn’t have to know that. “I can let you copy it tomorrow morning, before class.”

“No, that’s alright, baby. We can just cross-check our answers tomorrow,” His voice sounds tired, but you don’t comment. It’s better not to question Jisung when he’s like this.

His aunt has him doing a lot these days. You haven’t wanted to ask about it because you know it must be tough for her to look after Jisung since his parents passed, especially when Jisung is always going at full speed and is probably seconds away from giving his aunt a heart attack. He was always clumsy as a child, too, snapping his glasses in half and having a few broken bones to tell long stories about. He always means well, but sometimes you wish that he had something else to get his energy out of his system rather than stressing his aunt out.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Jisung, surely you know who Spiderman is, like, underneath the mask,” Seungmin quips through a mouthful of dry, government regulated school food. “You spent all that time with Bang Chan in the internship.”

Seungmin is a lanky boy that just came along one day and decided to be yours and Jisung’s friend. With him, he brought a younger, smiley guy named Jeongin, and Jeongin brought Felix. Felix is just Felix - nothing else can describe him. Before long, you’d found yourself in a de facto group of misfits that you weren’t even sure you could call friends. Apart from Jisung, of course.

Jisung simply raises an eyebrow in response to Seungmin. “I mean, sure. I met Mr Bang a few times, but I never met Spiderman. Not out of his suit, anyway.”

You gasp. Jeongin startles from the nap he was taking on the cafeteria table, raising his head to look at you angrily. Felix pushes his head back down from the hood on his jumper and Jeongin immediately falls back to sleep. “You met him in his suit?”

“Well, yeah,” Jisung shrugs. When he turns to look at you, your mouth is agape, feeling slightly betrayed. Jisung shoves another spoonful of cheese - was it really cheese? - pasta into his mouth, and then he’s sighing. “It’s not a big deal, baby. If I really met him, the real him, you’d be the first to know. I promise.”

“You still got that fat crush on Spiderman?” Felix chirps. You meet his amused gaze with your own steely glare, pouting over your packed lunch.

“It’s not a crush-”

“It’s an interest,” Jisung clarifies for you, and you smile. He’s always jumping to your defence like that. You bite into an apple, savouring the crisp, fruity taste on your tongue, and then the bell rings. Sighing, you watch as the boys around you get up - including Jeongin, fox like eyes bleary from sleep - and swing their bags on their shoulders.

“I’ll see you later,” You murmur to Jisung, who throws his arm around your waist in a quick hug. “Enjoy English.”

Right. You and Jisung didn’t have the same classes. He has English now, and you have chemistry, which is probably your least favourite of all classes. You just weren’t a fan of the whole blowing shit up scenario, unlike Jeongin was, and the boy trundles behind you towards your chemistry class.

The class is boring. The teacher drones on and on about some experiment you couldn’t care less about, and you pretend to care. You’re taking notes, sure, ever the diligent student - but you can’t get anything other than Spiderman out of your mind. Jisung met him, and didn’t tell you, and who even is this guy? You’d love to know. You’d love to just see him, even once, just to be able to tell the story.

A massive crash stops the teacher’s speech. He turns to the door, confused, and the students do the same. You do too, furrowed eyebrows staring at the door. Another crash causes people to begin to rise, and the teacher starts ushering everyone out of the class to the closest exit route. You’re frozen in confusion and fear, pencil halted in your fingers, even as another noise makes the teacher run out behind the class.

It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re still sitting in your seat, eyes wide and heart racing. Then, you spring up to follow the rest of your cohort, sneakers squeaking against the tiled floor as you run to the door. Swinging it open, you stick your head out the door and look around, trying to see if the coast is clear. With a planet full of interdimensional attacks, you can’t be sure, and looking left leads you to see a scaly, large animal type of thing. You squeak, startled, and immediately retreat into the class before it notices you. What the fuck do you do? What are you meant to do?

The whole room begins to shake, and you have a feeling the creature’s getting closer. Beakers are thrown to the floor from the vibration ringing throughout the room, glass shattering loudly, and you feel like you’re about to scream, or cry, or run, and you can’t run.

Doing the only thing you can think of, you cower to the floor, hiding underneath a table donned in smashed beakers. You’re curled up in a ball, watching students standing outside murmuring and discussing their own safety, and then the shaking stops.

The door swings open. Everything outside the classroom is too intimidating, items being thrown everywhere, and you can’t even bring your legs to move with how badly they’re shaking. Who’s just walked in? You pray for Jisung. You pray for someone who’s going to help you hide, someone who’s going to keep you safe, and then-

A masked face pops underneath the table. He’s lithe, slender, but the tight red and dark blue suit highlights the hint of abs and sculpted biceps on his body. Holy fucking shit. Your eyes widen. Spiderman is in your school.

“Are you okay?” His voice is deep, but it sounds almost like someone putting on a deeper voice to hide their identity. You nod hesitantly, and then he’s extending a gloved hand towards you, pulling you out from underneath the table. You’re unable to speak. Once you’re standing in front of him, you notice he’s around a head or so taller than you, but definitely not as tall as you thought he’d be. He sighs, chest heaving with panic. You suppose it must be pretty tough work fighting aliens from outer space. “I’ve webbed him up for now, but it won’t hold much longer. Go- please, go and run. Please, anywhere, just- go and hide, or run.”

“I-I-”

“Promise me, b- um, you. I can’t let you get hurt.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I- Yes, I promise, I’m going to- I’ll go, thank you, thank you-”

“Wait, no!” He shouts, rubbing his temples - or at least, you’d imagine he was but he’s just rubbing the mask in frustration. You watch as he bounds over to the window, kicking it open, and the students outside turn to the classroom in awe. You’re rooted in place, as if vines are circling your ankles and securing you to the floor, mouth agape. You wait for him to give you further directions, and you gasp when he runs back over to you, picking you up and carrying you over to the window. You feel light as a feather, and all you can think is how he’s even carrying this amount of strength in that small body. “Too risky. Outside.”

“O-Outside?” You stammer, cheeks bright red, and he nods. He leans to place you out of the window, delicately placing you on your feet, and then he speeds off, shouting a quick “see you later!”.

You blink. You can hear the noises of walls breaking and windows shattering as Spiderman fights, and Felix runs up to you from the crowd outside and slings an arm over your shoulder. You’re still staring inside the classroom as if you can see through walls and watch the fight. What did see you later mean?

What’s the likelihood, honestly? You knew he was the friendly neighbourhood guy, and all that, but why not Bang Chan, in his sleek nanotech suit? This was a big fight. You find yourself getting worried, biting your nails in concern for the man you don’t even know. You have to remind yourself of that. He saved you because you’re any other citizen, not for any other specialty - you don’t know this guy.

“C’mon, over here,” Felix ushers you over, tone soft. When you’re with him, Seungmin and Jeongin, he sighs, rubbing your back. “Crazy, right? At least you can say you met Spiderman now.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Jisung is safe, thank god. You kind of feel guilty for not worrying about him at the moment, but he’d text you shortly after, saying he’d left just before it all kicked off because he felt a little under the weather. He wanted to make sure you were okay, though, so he texted you as soon as he could. You’d never admit the blush that rose to your cheeks when you read it.

It’s quiet in your room. Your parents had sprinted to you as soon as you’d come through the door, having seen the situation on the news, and you’d reassured them that Spiderman had saved you. It definitely changed your dad’s perspective of him, and now you lie on your bed feeling more than relieved.

Your fingers tap on your tummy in thought, though. He was making his voice deeper, that much you could tell, but why? How was he there so quickly? There’s no fucking way he was a student. Still, that body in the tight suit… you’d definitely been looking. You’re a woman, of course you were going to look. He had a figure enviable to every man. Broad shoulders, abs just slightly visible, strong legs that carried you over to the window…

In your dreamlike fantasy, you’re considering something you previously never would’ve thought of. What if Jisung was underneath that suit? Now, that would be perfect. Both of your crushes being one being, Jisung pulling that suit up his lithe thighs and letting it settle over his broad pecs.

Before you know it, your hand is dipping under the hem of your pyjama pants, unable to feel guilty for thinking about your best friend in this way. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time, with many of your nights spent whimpering into your pillow and coming apart on your own fingers wishing they were his. He had such nice hands… What if it was him who had grabbed you from underneath that table? Your hand trails down to find your folds, slick and ready for whatever you had in store, but you focus on your clit, swollen and aching between your bottom lips. Would he finger you in the gloves if you asked, let you ride his abs in the suit until completion? Would he kiss you upside down, hanging from the-

A tap on your window makes you jump. The room is dark, save for your bedside lamp, and you turn rapidly to see a faceless figure just about popping in from the corner. You yank your hand out of your bottoms, squeaking, and then you squint to try and see the figure closer.

Holy shit. Spiderman is at your bedroom window.

Your cotton tank top is revealing, so you turn immediately to reach for your dressing gown and tie it around your figure. You pad over to the window in your socks, still wide-eyed and completely baffled, and then you turn the handle to allow him access. What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” You blurt, toes curling against your floor. Spiderman swings inside instead of responding, walking around your room like he’s been there a million times before. “No, seriously, what the fuck?”

He turns to you, shrugging. “I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?”

You blanch. He did say that, yes, but that still doesn’t explain the million questions you have right now. “Well, yeah, but- how do you know where I live?”

“I- uh, found it in the school office,” He hops up onto your bed, sitting cross legged. His mask hides his face, but he hums in pleasure at the feeling of the bedsheets on him. “After the fight, I went in there. Glad you’re okay, by the way.”

He’s still making his voice deeper, and you blink, nodding in response. “I’m great. Can I- can I ask why you’re here?”

He shrugs again, fiddling with a loose thread on your duvet. “No reason. Got bored. I was swinging around and remembered I saw your address on the computer.”

“Right,” You shake your head, still baffled. Instead of questioning him further, you jump onto the bed in front of him and copy his position, cross legged. “Don’t you have, like, recovering to do? I heard you got beat pretty bad.”

“Nah, no way,” He scoffs, rolling his neck. You suppress a smile. Cocky. “Spider venom, y’know? It repairs everything super quick.”

You were right. You can’t suppress a smile at his response, clicking your fingers at his masked face. “I fucking knew it! I guessed it was the venom.”

He stops fiddling with the duvet, turning to you and tilting his head in question. “You’re smart, aren’t you? Hey, are you the one that’s friends with that kid?”

You narrow your eyes. Jisung’s a liar. If Spiderman knows who he is, that means they’ve met more than once, and Jisung lied. You reach for your phone, ready to bitch him out via text, but Spiderman knocks your phone out of your hand. You turn to him, confused.

“Talk to me,” He whines. “I told you I was bored!”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, damn. Yes, I’m friends with Jisung. Why?”

“No reason,” He wiggles forward on your bed, grabbing your hand. You’re confused, but then he launches you into an intense thumb war, one that you were never going to win. Everytime you go to move your thumb in response to his, he’s got you pinned, and before he speaks again you’re five rounds down. “He’s pretty cool, right?”

“Who?” You ask, still focusing on the thumb war.

“Jisung,” He clarifies, clearing his throat. Making his voice that deep must be taking its toll on his vocal chords. “He’s kinda cool. Super smart, I thought.”

“He definitely is,” You laugh when he pins your thumb down again, swatting at his wrist to get him off of you. “He’s smarter than me.”

“And, uh,” He clears his throat again, leaning back on your bed. Leaning back like that, you have a full view of his body in his suit, and you have to stare at the posters on your wall to avoid looking at him. He puts his hands behind his head, the full picture of relaxation, and you wished he’d stop throwing you this random curveball behaviour. “Is that all you think of him? Just smart?”

You blush, finally reverting your eyes to him. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean… Do you have a crush on him, or?”

“Who wants to know?” You bristle, playing with your hands in your lap. You look down at your chipped nail polish, awkwardly shifting on the bed in your pyjamas. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“No one knows who I am,” He responds easily. “I want to know. Tell me. Do you have a crush on him?”

“I’m not telling you that-”

“I’m bored!” He whines again, sitting up. You let him grab your hand again, pulling your pinky finger into a promise. You swear you see the mask smile. “Tell me!”

“Okay, damn,” You sigh, exasperated. Was he on molly or something? Are you dreaming? “I guess so. I guess I always have, yeah, I don’t know. I don’t think he’d ever like me like that.”

He coos at that, taking your hand in his. It’s strangely comforting. “Why not?”

“He’s- well, I don’t think I’m good enough for someone like him,” You admit, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s awkward. He’s my best friend. It would ruin things, and I guess I’ve never let myself think about it like that.”

“You should,” He hums. You blink, staring at him. What the hell is he on about? “I just mean you should. Maybe he likes you too, y’know? I like my best friend. I’d love to know if she likes me back.”

“You do?” You wiggle closer, eager to know more. “You like your best friend? What’s she like?”

“Well,” He strokes your hand again before pulling away, leaning his chin on his hand. “She’s super pretty. Smart, too. I’ve known her since like, forev- for a few years, I think, in total.”

“It’s kind of the same with me and Jisung,” You sigh again, pouting. “I’ve known him for my whole life, basically. I’m just scared it’ll ruin things, but I think about him a lot when I’m on my own.”

He snickers. “Really? Like when you’re doing what you were doing when I got here?”

You swat at his shoulder, blushing bright red. “Shut up, oh my god! I thought you- shut up. Just don’t.”

“Maybe he thinks about you then too, I don’t know,” He shrugs nonchalantly, and then he’s getting up and pacing around. You watch him fiddle with a few photo frames on your desk, humming at ones of you and Jisung when you were younger and even fiddling with a few of your academic medals and prizes. “I won’t tell him, by the way.”

“You see him often?” You ask, voice soft. “He said-”

“Nah, I’ve only seen him once or twice,” He stretches his arms above his head, still staring at your desk full of trinkets. “He doesn’t know who I am.”

“Can I know?”

He turns to you. “Know what?”

“I want to know who you are,” Your voice is confident, but you feel anything but, teeth chewing your bottom lip nervously. “You saved me, and now you’re in my bedroom. I feel that I deserve to know.”

He sighs loudly this time, walking towards the window. “When we get to know eachother better, maybe.”

“Wait, hang on,” You watch him sling a foot out of the window, exasperated. He can’t leave! “Where are you going? I thought you said you were bored-”

“Things to do, baby,” He replies quickly. You blink. That ‘baby’ sounds awfully familiar, and you stand up quickly to walk towards the window, but he’s already webbing away. “Bye!”

You stand there, shocked and confused. He’s swinging from building to building away from you, and you’re just standing there like an idiot. You were interrupted before you could even start touching yourself, forced into a thumb war and coerced into admitting your deepest, darkest secret, and then he just… leaves? Just like that?

Your life is proving to be a little more interesting than you thought, but your dreams were filled with familiar round cheeks beneath a red and blue mask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Baby, is there a reason why your eyes are burning holes into the side of my head?”

You’re convinced your best friend is Spiderman. There, sitting beside you with his glasses sliding down his nose and comfortable in a grey hoodie and pink Hello Kitty pyjama bottoms on, it’s hard to believe. But you’re not stupid.

First of all, since he started that internship with Mr Bang, he’s been weird about letting you inside his room. This is the same person that you had many sleepovers with growing up, and as recently as a few months ago you’d been cuddling in bed together watching Howl’s Moving Castle. He has something to hide, but you’d been let down when you’d arrived at his house earlier and shouldered past him to find literally nothing of suspicion inside his room, other than an anime girl mouse pad with the boobs to rest your wrist on. You knew that existed though, ever since his birthday last year when Felix had gifted it to him, so what gives?

Secondly, Sohee is more stressed out than ever. You’d caught sight of her flitting around the kitchen when you arrived for your homework friend-date, scrubs on and ready to head to the hospital but still panicking about something. Jisung said multiple times that he’d been helping her out more and that’s why he’s been so busy lately. She shouldn’t still be panicking.

Thirdly, Spiderman wouldn’t make his voice deeper to you unless you knew him. He wouldn’t need to, or you wouldn’t recognise his voice - unless it’s a habit he’s picked up, perhaps. That doesn’t change that the way he called you baby last night sounded a little bit too familiar, too comfortable. It came out of his mouth like second nature.

Still, it makes no sense. Surely Jisung would have told you? You’re his best friend, he said so, so he’d tell you. Or would he? Maybe Felix knows. You’re also hoping deep down that it isn’t true, because if it is, you told your crush last night that you liked him.

You can’t even be mad at Jisung for it. He’s still staring at you, and you’re staring blankly back while shoving snacks into your mouth. There’s crumbs all over your homework.

“Jisung,” You begin, and he hums in response. “Would you tell me your deepest, most serious secret if I worked it out?”

He chokes on his energy drink, spluttering neon blue liquid all over his bed. You want to giggle, to make fun of him, but you’re sure you’ve gotten somewhere here. He wipes his mouth, clears his throat, and turns back to you. His hands are shaky where they clutch his textbook, and his eyes are almost blurry through the glasses. “I tell you everything anyway.”

“I don’t think you do,” You respond, quick as a beat. He blinks, lips parting. “Not by that reaction, Jisung. I think you’re hiding something from me.”

He scratches his nose with the end of his pen, looking down at the textbook again. You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“Okay,” You hum. He sighs, scribbling something on the paper. It’s so quiet in the room that you can hear his pen scribbling, but you’re speaking again before you can even think. “Did I tell you Spiderman came to my room last night?”

He gulps audibly. “Nope.”

“Yeah, it was kinda weird,” You take a sip from your energy drink, still staring at him vacantly. Jisung’s eyes flit up to you, and then back down to the textbook. Oh, he knows. He knows that you know. He knows that you know that he knows. “He saved me in school, when that alien thing was there, and then he came to my room and asked me about you.”

“He, uh- really? Did he?”

“Mhm,” Your gaze is steely. “Jisung, I know you’re Spiderman.”

Jisung bursts out laughing. It would be believable, but you’ve known him since you were four years old and it’s a fake laugh. He’s cackling, loud as brass, and he lets out a little “ooh” afterwards as if he can’t believe you. “Baby, that’s the craziest theory you’ve ever come up with.”

“Is it?” You question, head tilting to the side. Then, in the smartest moment you’ve ever had, you pick up Jisung’s energy drink from the floor. He’s still looking at you, a fake smile on his lips, and you take a sip from it casually. Sharing drinks isn’t new for you. You glug back the artificial blue raspberry flavour, and then keeping eye contact with him, you let go.

Before the can is able to fall and spill the rest of its contents over your own textbook, and inevitably Jisung’s One Piece bed sheets, he reaches out and grabs it, hand wrapping around the can, quick as a flash. It all happens in about a second, and you gasp. Jisung gasps. His hand tightens around the can and it crinkles, an impossible show of strength, and then he’s blinking at you. You raise an eyebrow.

“I knew it.”

He puts the can safely on the bedside table, and then he’s slamming his textbook shut. You watch in confusion as he paces back and forth on his bedroom floor, running his hands through his hair over and over.

“Okay!” He points at you, victorious. “That was a reflex. I knew you were going to do that, I’m smart, duh! I knew you were going to drop the can to prove something, and-”

“Jisung,” You say, voice soft. He stops pacing, sock clad feet rooted on the carpet to stare at you. You’re going to get him. You’re going to get him good. “Do you not want me to know? Is that what this is?”

He immediately falls to the floor, head resting on your knee as he looks up at you. You can’t even feel sorry for him, because your plan is working perfectly. His eyes are round and vulnerable, and then he clenches them shut in distress. You think he’s probably a second away from crying. “Baby, it’s not that. I wanted to protect you. It would be dangerous if the bad guys knew who you were, knew that you knew, and I know I shouldn’t have come to your room, that was wrong of me, and-”

You giggle. Jisung furrows his eyebrows, eyes opening. “I knew I was right.” He gasps, pointing at you again.

“Judas! You’re a judas!” He’s shocked, leaning back on his haunches and staring at you. “I can’t- I can’t believe you, that was so-”

“Sneaky? Good? Smart?” You list, leaning back on his twin bed. He stands up, hands on his hips. You’re ready for him to bitch you out, but you don’t care - you knew that you had to know, had to have it confirmed. He taps his foot, and then you see a smile break out on his lips.

“Okay, yeah, that was pretty good,” He hums, returning to the bed. You let him shut your own textbook and sprawl across you, head in your lap. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve told you.”

You sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “That’s okay, Ji. It’s fine. I’m just a little embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? Why?” Jisung asks, his eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of your nails on his scalp. You want to scoff. Embarrassed for two major reasons - one, because you’ve been gushing about how cool Spiderman is for weeks, maybe even months, and two because you told Spiderman last night that you liked Jisung. Spiderman and Jisung are the same person. Sure, it makes things easier. You no longer have a crush on two people, only one, but it doesn’t change the fact that Jisung knows and is yet to say anything.

“I’ve been talking to you about Spiderman for weeks,” You blush, pushing his hair off of his forehead. He whines, thrashing his feet and shaking his head like a dog to hide his forehead again. He’s so dramatic. You like him so bad. “And- and you- it was you, then. You came to my room last night.”

“Yeah, that was risky,” He responds, exasperated. “I just had to, baby. I don’t know, you always seemed so interested in Spiderman and not me. I needed to know if you saw me like you saw him.”

You pause your movements on his head, blinking at the wall in front of you. When you turn back to him, he’s blushing, teeth gnawing his bottom lip. His eyes are conveniently staring at the window, away from you.

“Jisung,” You start, hesitant. “What do you mean?”

He sits up sharply. “Wanna go on the roof?”

“T-The roof? Jisung, how are we gonna- oh. Oh.”

Jisung jumps up from the bed, toeing his sliders onto his feet and pushing the window open. It gives you deja vu - that same figure was pushing the window open just like this to place you safely outside in school yesterday, and then he was coming through your window to see you late at night. It’s hard to believe that they’re the same person, the man you admired so much and your best friend who’s standing by the window expectantly waiting for you to join him.

You hesitantly stand up, brushing off imaginary crumbs from your joggers and looking at Jisung. He smiles, a soft, reassuring smile, and then he’s scooping you up from the floor and wrapping your legs around his waist. It’s slender, the plush flesh of your thighs almost obscuring it, and you squeak in surprise at being in the air.

“I- Jisung?!”

“You have to hold on tight,” He says. His face is inches away from yours, plush lips looking more than appealing and his glasses making him look so endearing. “I need my hands for this, so hold onto my shoulders.”

You nod, face blushing crimson at the realisation of just how close you are. Would he have you like this if he fucked you? Legs around his waist, hands on his shoulders, his face so close to yours as he pants and whines and moans-

You squeak again when he slides out of the window, and then you see him in action. His hands stick to the outside of the apartment building, feet kicking up against the concrete wall. Your heart is racing so badly it feels as though it could burst out of your chest, but you’re not sure if it’s because of the height or because you’re tightly pressed against Jisung.

When he swings you both over the side ledge on the roof, you notice the sun’s set already. Time always goes by quickly with Jisung, but the stars are already out, and the air is crisp and biting against your limbs despite the layers. Once he’s safely stood on the roof, he places his hands underneath your thighs and detaches you from his firm body, placing you on your feet.

You’re disorientated, shocked at the sheer height of the building and at the way Jisung seems to be swinging you around like it’s nothing, but he’s simply staring at you. A wide smile stretches from ear to ear, and he blinks when you don’t say anything. “It’s cool, right?”

“Y-Yeah, super cool,” You admit, chest heaving. “Really high up, but cool. Jisung, why are we on the roof?”

He’s wrangling you, hands on your arms and pushing you to the floor. It feels firm, but with what you now know about him, you know he’s holding back. He plops down next to you, eyes wide and expectant.

“I wanted to do it properly,” He begins. He pauses for a moment, licks his lips, pushes his glasses up his nose, and then he’s speaking again. “I like you, so that’s why I asked. Is it romantic up here? It feels romantic, but I’m not too sure-“

He stands up and begins pacing around the roof before you realise he’s even moved. You raise an eyebrow. “Jisung?”

“I wanted to do this right, y’know?” He pauses, hands on his hips. He looks comical, trying to assert dominance over you like that in those Hello Kitty pyjama trousers. “I- I wanted to swing by and like, grab you, or something? But then you worked it out, and now I’m just standing here with you on a roof…”

He continues mumbling like a mad scientist, eyes focused on a spot next to your head. You stand up, making your way towards him, and he still refuses to look at you. He likes you back. He likes you back, and he’s still your best friend - he’s still Jisung, but he’s also Spiderman, and you’re okay with that. You don’t have to like two people. You only like one, and it’s your goofy best friend.

“Is this even romantic? You know, we could just forget about it and-“

You press your lips to his. He doesn’t make any form of surprised noise, only cupping your cheeks with his hands and pulling you close to him. His glasses bump against your face, his lips pouty against yours and plush and maybe a bit too wet for a first kiss, but you’d always figured he’d take it too far. That’s what you like about him. Jisung never does anything by halves.

It’s brief, too brief for your liking, but then he’s pulling away with a satisfied grin on his face. You blink. Wait.

“Wait, your stupid- your stupid spidey things. Did you know I was going to kiss you?” You pout, and he giggles. “No, seriously! Could you like- I don’t know, feel it coming?”

“Not until you were like, a few inches from my face,” Jisung admits, and his teeth gleam in the brilliance of the evening. “I had a feeling you might.”

You sigh. “So why didn’t you stop talking?”

“Dunno,” He shrugs. “I couldn’t stop once I started.”

The statement is so true to Jisung, so in character for your best friend that you can do nothing but accept it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s easy to fall into a different routine with Jisung.

He never asked you to be his girlfriend. You’re pretty sure you’re fine with that, though - things have had a natural manner of progressing, and now your best friend slash boyfriend slash superhero turns up at your window every night after he’s been on his neighbourhood patrol. Sometimes he’s a little bruised, and sometimes he’s just looking for consolation kisses.

It’s a normal night for you when it happens. Jisung’s halfway out of your bedroom window on his way to perform perfect justice, pulling his mask down over his annoyingly beautiful face. You’re standing a few feet away grinning like an idiot.

“I’ll see you later, my baby,” You can see his grin through the mask. The eyes on his mask form beautiful crescent moons with his happiness. He falters, legs swinging on your windowsill. “Wait. I am coming back here, yeah?”

“Of course,” You giggle. He sends you two fingers in a mock salute, and you watch him begin his journey up the wall to your roof. A beat passes and you’re still standing there, smiling, hands on your hips, and then the masked head of your best friend pops back down into your window, upside down, tilting to the side in confusion. You blink, confused. “What is it, Sungie?”

“Well, where’s my goodbye kiss? Damn,” He huffs, and you roll your eyes playfully. You make your way to the window, sock-clad feet padding on your carpet, and you pull his mask down to his eyes with two fingers. It miraculously stays on his head, and his lips form a teasing grin.

Despite him being upside down, you place a chaste kiss to his lips, and you watch in amusement as he swings away afterwards. You can still hear him giggling with glee from a few buildings away.

It’s a few hours later when he comes back. You’re flicking through a book for English, scrawling notes and highlighting words on sticky notes. It’s started to rain, and the city lights only look brighter in the dusk with the pattering of water on your window. You left it open, of course, for your superhero, but the cold air bites at your arms even through the fluffy blanket you’ve got wrapped around yourself.

Just as you’re beginning to contemplate closing it, a louder, more prominent tap hits the glass. When you turn to the window, Jisung is slouched against your windowsill, chest heaving beneath red lycra and forehead pressed against the glass. He’s got his mask between his teeth, and his hair is dishevelled, floppy brown locks obscuring his eyes. You can still catch sight of the bruising on his cheekbones and you gasp, rushing towards the window.

You drop your blanket in shock, but you swing the window open, pulling Jisung inside with one hand. He stumbles through, disoriented and confused, and you lead him to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Got hurt,” He explains, huffing out a breath. The mask drops from his teeth unceremoniously, with a wet plop to your carpeted floor, but you don’t care. You rush to sit next to him, fingers gripping his chin to pull him to face you. His eyes are round, sincere, and he gives you a soft smile. “It’ll heal before long, baby, don’t panic.”

“I am panicking,” You say, resolute, because you really are. Bruising is scattered across his cheekbones, fading into green on the plush of his cheeks and his lip looks like it had been burst, but is already healing. “Will it- will it take long? Do you need me to get the first aid kit, or-“

“Baby,” He shakes his head, grabbing your hands. You watch with parted lips as he leans forward, both of you cross legged on the end of your bed. It reminds you of when Spiderman first visited you, when you weren’t quite sure of his identity. Jisung presses his forehead against yours, and you let him look into your eyes. It’s like he’s demanding everything that’s ever gone through your head to be vocalised. You’d tell him if he asked. “I’m really okay. I’m a little shaken up, but I’m fine. Most of it is on my ribs from falling, to be honest.”

“Your ribs?!” You shriek. “Show me. Let me see, I need to help you-“

You’re already trying to wrangle Jisung out of his suit, and he giggles, clearly thinking this is all just some game. He holds his arms up pliantly, though, and you don’t have the thought processing ability within you to realise that Jisung’s suit is an all-in-one and you’re currently stripping him down to his boxers.

The suit is wet too when you drop it to the floor, and before long you’re blinking at your best friend in his plain black boxers and he’s grinning at you as if this is any other day. There’s no bruising on his ribs. You’re staring at his abs, regardless, so you’re not sure you would’ve even noticed.

“You look fine.”

“I told you it heals quickly, baby,” He grins. You blink when he wriggles on your bed, laying on his back and stretching his arms above his head again, this time to get comfortable. His legs stretch out too, and you avoid looking anywhere below his waist.

His body is a spectacle. You can’t stop looking. Broad shoulders taper off into an extremely defined chest and a tight, thin waist adorned with prominent abdominal muscles, before reaching a v-line that leads into his boxers. You’re wide eyed, wanting nothing more than to reach out and run your fingers down his honey toned skin.

“Why-“ You cough, clearing your throat. Jisung raises an eyebrow. He’s grinning from ear to ear, teeth gleaming. “Why did you let me strip you if you’re literally fine?”

The bruising on his cheek is already fading. He shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps bulge with the movement and you think you might choke on your own spit. “You seemed pretty determined, so I just allowed it. You wanted to see me naked, I assumed, so-“

“Jisung!” You wail, slapping his shoulder. He groans in pain, catching your hand, and he grits his teeth with a hiss.

“My shoulder! Fuck, that hurt, ouch, baby! What was that for?!”

You gasp. He clutches his shoulder, letting out little pants of hurt sounding noises. You let your head fall to his chest, engulfing him with a hug. “Jisung, I’m so sorry-“

“Hehe,” He giggles. When you look at him, he’s sticking his tongue out, completely fine. You groan, annoyed you fell for it, and then he’s grabbing your forearms and pulling you upwards on top of him.

Your breasts press against his chest like this, due to your lack of bra in your sleep shirt, and his eyes widen when he feels it. Instead of letting you go, his hands move to your back, encompassing you in his strong hold.

You gasp, wiggling in his grip, and he licks his lips. His eyes go to your lips, and then back up to your eyes, as if he’s hesitant.

“I-“ He begins, faltering. “Are you my girlfriend?”

You scoff out a laugh. “I don’t know, am I?”

“I hope so,” Jisung admits, his facial expression vulnerable. His eyes dart to something behind you, as if he’s not sure, almost shy. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him shy. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask, but I want you to be, if you want to be.”

“I want to be,” You nod. He nods in response, and you watch his eyes flicker to your lips again. It’s silent for a moment, and then he leans in, pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss is more charged than usual. Before now, you’re used to chaste, fleeting kisses from your superhero, but now he lets his tongue tease against the seam of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, and his eyelashes brush against your skin where he does the same. You let your lips part, and Jisung’s quick to grip your back harder, tongue darting inside your mouth with impatience.

You’ve made out with someone before. You’d never had sex with someone before, but you had made out with someone. It was only once at a party when you were a little bit younger but it had felt like a good idea at the time. You’re sure Jisung’s lost his virginity though, but when he whimpers against your lips and his hips squirm a little you’re not too sure.

You pull away from the kiss, lips a little wet, and Jisung’s mouth goes to your neck. You allow him to suck a mark into the expanse of skin just underneath your jaw, his fingers grabbing impatiently at your back. “Sungie, are you a virgin?”

Jisung pulls away, licking his lips. You feel something hard pressing against your thigh where you lay on top of him. You’re thanking every entity ever that your parents are out for a work dinner. “Yeah, I am. I would have told you if I wasn’t,” He confirms, a little breathless. His hips wiggle again. “Is that- is that okay, baby?”

“Yeah, of course,” You smile, comforting. You peck his lips again and he grins back at you. “I am too.”

“I know,” He responds, quick as a flash. You blush. That’s embarrassing. “No, I just mean- you also would’ve told me, y’know?”

“That’s true,” You shrug. You’re feeling a little overconfident, and you move in his hold, having felt it gone a little lax with your kissing. You let your thighs spread over his hips, his hard shaft pressing against your core through your pyjama bottoms and his boxers. You still feel it, though, and it makes your pussy gush a little. “Is- is this okay?”

He’s blushing. His lips part, and he nods, perhaps too eagerly because he clutches his neck afterwards like he’s got whiplash. “Baby, you’re- I have a pretty girl in my lap. This is so okay. Like, so okay, I might have a heart attack and die, probably.”

You shift, and he winces. “Sorry,” You say. It’s a fake apology. You want to swallow his cock down your throat until he cries, and you don’t even know how to. You’d try your best though. “If I lost my virginity, I’d want it to be with you.”

“Damn,” Jisung whistles, eyebrows raised. “Let me hit?”

You giggle, tilting your head to the side. “I’ll let you hit right now, Jisung.”

Jisung shoots upwards into a seated position. His eyes are wide. “Right now?”

“Right now,” You confirm. You go from straddling his lap to laying on your back on your bed in a flash, and Jisung looms over you, all tight, toned muscles and broad shoulders.

“I’ll make it so good, baby, I promise,” He says, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s even messier this time, lips pressing against yours over and over and his tongue adding a collection of spit to the mix. You let your thighs fall apart, his hips quick to fill the space and press his cock against you. His hands go to your waist as he kisses you, sucking and biting on your lips until you’re whining with it, but he doesn’t let up. He’s desperate, messy, and it’s only making your pussy drool even more.

The rain hits the window still, cooling off a little but still providing a calming effect to your room when combined with the orange-pink of your lamp. He inches his palms up your shirt, the softness of his hands surprising you, and then he’s pulling away from your mouth to yank the fabric over your head.

You’re left in just your pyjama bottoms, lips kiss bitten and nipples pebbled against the cool air of your bedroom. You never had shut your window, after all.

“Oh,” Jisung says, exasperated. You finally open your eyes to see him staring at your tits, and you think he might be drooling. “Oh, yeah, my baby. They are so fucking good.”

You almost laugh, but you’re cut off by your own strangled moan when his pouty lips engulf your right nipple. He sucks on it, hard, and when your back arches he lets it slip out of his mouth with a wet popping noise. It’s only a brief moment of reprieve before he’s letting his teeth skim along the bud, and you keen, fingers moving upwards from his shoulders to grip onto the pillow behind your head.

“Oh, that’s so- Sungie, baby, that feels good,” You whine, and he hums against your breast. When he moves to the other one, he tweaks your wet nipple between two fingers. It’s experimental, but the whole thing is, and you buck your hips up impatiently.

His hands move to your ass, scooping underneath you and making you grind slightly against him. The movement makes him moan, your nipple leaving his mouth. A string of drool attaches to his lips and his tongue lolls out lazily, and before you can process it, he’s grinding his cock into your clothed centre.

“Oh- oh, fuck,” He whines, eyes clenching shut. You whimper in response, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Baby- baby, baby. Baby, I’ve thought about this so much, I- fuck, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”

His words are so crude that they make you keen, nodding enthusiastically. “I thought about it too. I- I touched myself thinking about it, Sungie, did you?”

He gasps sharply, and there’s a fumbling between your legs. He rocks backwards on his haunches, and you see him gripping his cock impatiently underneath his boxers, fingers wrapped tight around the base.

“I will literally cum if I imagine that,” He huffs, breathless. “But yes. I did, many times, and- and- baby, can I see your pussy?”

It’s so bold that you can’t say no. You never would have dreamed of saying no anyway, and you nod, wiggling your bottoms down your legs. You never wear a bra or panties underneath your pyjamas, and your pussy is revealed to him in all its drooly glory, folds sticking together with your arousal.

Jisung’s jaw goes slack. You watch him jerk his cock, eyes fixated on your wet hole, and you shift impatiently.

“I showed you mine, Sungie,” You huff. “Show me yours.”

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. Your clit is swollen with arousal, some wetness stuck onto it, and you reach down to trace your fingertips over it absentmindedly while he pushes his boxers down. His cock slaps up against the bottom of his tummy, cockhead leaking beneath his foreskin, precum slicking the smattering of hair at his base. His balls look heavy, shaft swollen and fat between lithe thighs, and you can’t help but go a little googly eyed at the thought of him stretching you out.

He grabs it, pumps his cock a few times while you rub your fingers over your clit. “Is- is it okay, baby?” He gasps, cock leaking steadily in his fist.

“You’re so sexy, Sungie, ‘s so big. I- oh,” You whine, spreading your arousal over your folds. You prop your feet up, letting your legs fall wide, and the movement must expose your soppy hole to Jisung because his eyes widen even further. “I want you inside of me so bad. I’ve wanted it for so long, I just- shit, Jisung, what are you-“

You’re cut off by him diving between your legs. His cock is forgotten, his hands looping around your ass again to spread you wide, and his tongue presses against your core. He moans at the taste, and you whimper out loud, head rolling against your pillow. It’s messy and you can tell he’s inexperienced, but when he sucks your clit between his lips you can’t find it in you to care.

“Oh, oh- baby, baby! You’re good at that, so good at that, baby,” You babble, trying your best not to grind up into his mouth. His mouth is just as wet as your pussy, his lips drooling all over you. You’re cut short when he flattens his tongue against your core, moaning out loud, and his hands move your ass just a bit. “I- you- Sungie-?”

“Grind on my face, baby, c’mon,” He murmurs, muffled by your folds, and you oblige. Your hand goes to his hair, yanking on the dark brown strands, and you hold him in place while you grind your pussy senseless on his tongue. Your boy is good with his mouth, you realise - he’s pliant, letting you make yourself cum on his tongue and lips, and after only a few grinds you’re sure you’re going to fall apart for him.

“Ah! Ah, oh, baby, your mouth is- Sungie, Sungie,” You whine, feet kicking on the bed. Your legs go flat, but as the pleasure builds up in your core, your thighs tighten around his ears. He likes this, moaning loud to the point the vibrations make you jolt. It’s all so wet, your pussy dripping with arousal and his saliva, dripping down to your asshole. It has you wondering if Jisung would eat your ass further down the line, and your eyes flicker to his - would he let you eat his? He probably would, with how submissive he’s being.

His hips buck downwards on the bed and he keens into your pussy, and you realise he’s humping your mattress. He’s so desperate for you that he just can’t help himself, and you moan, loud and unabashed. The sight has you hurtling towards your orgasm.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, baby,” You warn, and he finally lets up, pulling back to suck on your clit. His hand moves over to the top of your pussy, pulling your mound backwards, and the exposure of your clit directly to his lips is your downfall. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth, and you can hear yourself talking and moaning but you’re not sure what you’re saying, only able to feel your hole gushing into Jisung’s mouth over and over.

Jisung licks over your clit a few times comfortingly, and then he’s on top of you again, face looming over yours. His right hand holds him up steadily and the other stays downwards, hooked on your thigh to keep you open.

“You taste delicious, baby,” He grins, mouth wet. When he presses his lips to yours he’s desperate, tongue darting into your mouth to let you taste your own cum. You let your hands fall to his chest, fingernails digging into the muscles. The filthiness of it all has you wriggling around impatiently again, and Jisung’s cockhead slips against your clit, making you whine into his mouth. He pulls away, gasping for air with the sensation, and you kiss the beauty spot on his cheek for good measure. “Baby. M-my baby, shit, can- can I fuck you now? Have you got a condom, I- shit, I need to fuck you?”

He’s breathless, giggling at his own desperation, and you nod eagerly. You’re on the pill, and realistically you’d want nothing more than him to creampie you, but you have a shred of logic still left in your brain. “No condom. I- I don’t have any, can you pull out? I know it’s not-“

“Don’t care,” He huffs, legs moving to prop himself up more securely. His knees dig into your bed, and he pulls your thigh further apart, letting his eyes fall down to your pussy. His face is more than pornographic when he sees the visual of his cockhead sliding through your folds, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. He lets his eyes flutter shut, a small profanity leaving his mouth. “You’re sure I can fuck you raw? I- please, p-please, baby. I need to be inside.”

“Jisung,” You whine. He lets his tip bump against your clit again, and you grow too desperate, reaching down yourself to grab his cock. The feeling makes him whimper, his fingers ripping into the pillow beside your head with his superhuman strength, but you’re too out of it to care. You position his cock by your hole, soppy and wet with your own cum, and he can’t hold himself back - he pushes in, all of it at once, a long, anguished noise leaving his mouth. “Oh. Oh- Oh, Jisung, that’s-“

“Is it okay? Are you okay?” Jisung asks, breathless. “Does it hurt? I- baby, baby-“

He’s still completely stationary, but he can’t stop talking, chest heaving and flushed pink. You shake your head. It doesn’t hurt. You’re wet enough that he glided in so easy, stretching your pussy in the most pleasurable, delicious way. You didn’t think it would ever feel this good, but you’re sure it’s because it’s Jisung.

“God, is it- does it feel good?” He questions you, and you nod eagerly, hands moving to rest on his biceps. He repositions you both so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, his arms holding himself up over you, and the movement has him sliding deeper, making you whimper. “Can I-“

“Fucking hell, Jisung, can you just move?” You huff, annoyed, and he giggles. He shakes his head fondly, and then he’s thrusting into you, slow but steady.

“Oh, that’s good,” He slurs, eyes rolling back into his head. “That pussy’s good. Jesus, you’re- you’re tight on my cock, baby, like a fuckin’ vice.”

“Your cock is so good,” You whine, trying to fuck yourself back on him. Your pussy is so wet that every thrust makes an audible noise, ringing throughout your room. If anyone walked past now they’d hear the debauchery, and you’re not sure you’d even care. “Fuck, Jisung- Jisung, you’re big. Please, please, more, I need more!”

“Okay, okay,” He moans, and then his hips speed up. His balls slap against your asshole with every thrust, his cock pistoning into you at a pace that has you wailing. The headboard slams against the wall. “Oh, fuckin’- baby, this puusssy.”

“It feels so good. Your cock is stretching me out so good, baby-“

“Fuck, wait,” He whines, pulling out sharply. When you look down between his legs his cock is painfully hard, and his pubic hair is drenched with you. The sight makes you even more eager to get him back inside of you, but Jisung grabs the base of his cock tightly, his chest heaving. “I- I’ll cum if you talk like that. Fuck, this is so embarrassing!”

“I want you to cum,” You insist, leaning up on your elbows. Your pussy is still leaking steadily onto your bedsheets, and you make grabby hands at your boy to try and get him back inside of you. “You made me cum so good in your mouth, Sungie, c’mon. Make yourself cum with my pussy.”

“Oh my God,” He moans, eyes half lidded, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re dirty. My fucking dream, holy shit.”

He leans over you once more, pushing his cock inside of you. It slides back in easily with another wet noise, and you moan, smiling with delight. “Mm, fuck this pussy, baby, c’mon.”

“I- fuck, okay,” He keens, nodding. His teeth bite into his lower lip almost painfully, and you kiss his neck while he starts to fuck into you again. With a quick reposition you let your thighs fall apart and further back, and his cock starts to hit your g-spot incessantly. He pulls away from you, head lolling into your neck. His breaths fan over your skin, hot and heavy. “You’re so wet, why are you- how are you so wet, baby? This pussy, fucking- I’m gonna cum. I’m so close, I’m so close, please-“

The shred of logic has left your brain. His cock feels so good, thick and pressing inside of you. You have to let him do it. “Baby. Baby, do y’wanna- I’m on the pill, baby,” You say, breathless. His pace stops, hips halting, and he makes a confused noise. “Cum inside. Creampie this hole, Sungie, I know you want to.”

“Oh my fucking- baby? My baby, can I?” He wails, head pulling up to look at you. You catch sight of tears brewing in his eyes, glassy and unshed. “Baby, please, I’m gonna cum, please, where-? Baby?”

“Inside of me, Sungie,” You wrap your legs around him, pulling him inside of you, deep. You know he could get out of it if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, hips starting to pick up inside of you again. It’s fast, desperate and he keens, nodding. “You gonna fill me up, yeah?”

“Yeah. Y-yeah, yes, oh- I’m gonna fill you up,” Jisung’s words are slurred, quiet, and you let him fuck into you over and over. With a sharp noise, his hips slow once more, and you feel a rush of additional wetness inside of you. It’s warm, and you run your fingers through his hair while he fucks his cum inside of you. “Fuck. Baby, you’re so good to me, so good. Lettin’ me breed your cunt, and- and- oh. I’m still-“

He’s still cumming. It floods out of his cock and into your pussy steadily, and you giggle, feeling sated. Your delighted state of mind only lasts a second, because he pulls out sharply and wiggles down on the bed, attaching his mouth to your cunt. He’s eating his own cum out of you.

“Oh! Oh, Jisung, you’re- you’re dirty, Sungie, ah-“ You whine, fingers moving to his hair again. He licks you over and over until you’re wailing with it, your own tears brimming in your eyes from the overstimulation. Your hole feels stretched, a feeling you’re sure you could get used to, and you shake through a second orgasm.

Jisung’s quick to lean over you again, and then his thumb moves to your chin. He opens your mouth firmly, spitting your combined release into your mouth, and you moan, letting him press his tongue between your lips afterwards.

It’s messy and you let him kiss you for a bit, slow, languid, passionate kisses that have your core almost throbbing for more, if you weren’t so satisfied. Jisung’s soft cock presses against your tummy, wet with your combined arousal, and then he flops down next to you with a huff.

“God, I could go again,” He admits, hand running through his sweat mussed hair. When you turn to him, he’s grinning from ear to ear, and you giggle. He looks at you with a satisfied expression. “You’re the best. That was literally like, the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Even more than when I win some fight against an alien, or something.”

“Alien?” You ask, and then you remember. “Oh, yeah. Kinda forgot about that.”

“You forgot about me saving your life?!” He shrieks, thrashing around on the bed in a tantrum. “Seriously, if I wasn’t in love with you I would- ah. Oh.”

You blanch, blinking at him. It’s easy to ignore that you’re both naked when he’s just dropped a bombshell on you like that, and you let out a giggle. “That was sweet. I’m in love with you too, for the record.”

You’re attacked in a flurry of kisses, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re sure Han Jisung intrigues you just as much as his superhero alterego does, so it’s easy to accept.

[brooooswriting]

Could you please write Leighton giving r some lessons in math cause r is terrible but needs to pass the course

R going with leighton to shop different things

Progressing to a relationship

You can do whatever you desire with this 😅

Tutors to lovers

Every day, your parents showed that they knew nothing about you. You didn't wanna go to Essex, and you definitely didn't wanna take advanced math, but they made sure that it was impossible for you to get out of it. Their demands on you were crazy; a 3.7 GPA was what they called terrible. And with your current understanding of advanced math? You were so fucked, and the person sitting next to you thought the same thing.

“Psst, look. You gotta divide this by 4, and then you have to calculate its root. Then you have 6 as the value of on x.” Leighton whispered to you, hoping to help you understand what the teacher was doing at the front. But the way you looked at her so helplessly and confused made her laugh louder than she intended to.

After class, you quickly stopped the blonde before she could walk out. “Leighton, hey. Thank you for trying to help me. Can I buy you a coffee as a thanks?” you asked with a small smile. She looked at you for a second before nodding. “Alright, then follow me” you walked out and towards sips, making small talk on the way there.

“After you,” you mumbled as you opened the door to the coffee shop for her. She thanked you and walked in, looking around the place. “What? Have you never been here before?” you asked with a small laugh, signaling that you were joking.

She looked at you for a moment before scrunching up her nose a bit and shaking her head. “No, never been. Not the biggest fan of cheap coffee and of whatever it smells like in here.” You grinned slightly as you walked toward the counter, your wallet already in hand.

“Yeah, well, I would have taken you to a more fancy place, but we both have another class in 20 minutes, and a good coffee is like 15 minutes away.” Leighton nodded, an understanding look on her face as you stepped up to the counter. After she told you what she wants to drink, you turn towards the counter again. “Oh, hey, Kimberly. How are you? Can I get two iced lattes and two blueberry muffins?”

“Y/n, it's so great to see you. I'm fine, thank you. How are you?” you talked for a bit while you paid, and she made your coffee, the blonde only standing behind you. “Alright, here you are. Have a great day, see you later Leighton” Both of you said goodbye before sitting on a park bank outside.

“So, can I ask you something?” Leighton asked as you played with her straw. You nodded, waiting for her to ask as you watched people walk by. “Why are you taking advanced math? Not to be rude, but you suck at it”

You laughed slightly before taking a deep breath. “Well, my father took it, my mother took it and my sister at Harvard is taking it. So, even if I suck at it and hate it, I have to take it too. But it seems like I’m failing it” you explained, looking at her for a second before continuing, “unlessssss someone would be willing to tutor me.” The grin you sent her made her smile while looking down at the bench to hide her slight blush.

“You know what, fine. Why not. Come by my dorm tomorrow at 5 ok?” The blonde didn’t even wait for an answer before she walked off, joining Bella on her way to the next class.

The next day you arrived at her dorm at 5 pm sharp, being greeted by Kimberly and Whitney who sat in their common room. “Hey y/n, Leighton is still in her room” Kimberly started but was quickly interrupted.

“Oh my god Bella” leighton screamed from inside their room, “can’t you just fuck him anywhere else? Jeez, i have a tutoring lesson in here”

“This isn’t just your room Leighton. This is our room and it’s made for sleeping” Bella argued back making you girls in the living room giggle.

“Dude, that’s so fucked from you. Keep away from my bed! If one thing is out of place later you’re in trouble!” The three of you stopped giggling as Leighton stormed out of the door, nearly running into you. “Y/n, let’s go. We gonna go to the library or some shit because somebody is being intolerable” she screamed the last part making you laugh.

“Alright, come on. You gotta calm down” you pulled Leighton out of the room, saying goodbye to the rest of her dorm mates. You went into the library where you sat down, and minutes later you were desperate for it to stop.

“Y/n, cmon. You gotta concentrate dude, it’s not that hard” the blonde complained as she went over the same exercise again and again.

“It may not be hard for you blondie, but I’m dying over here. I would even fail basic math class, there is no way I’ll ever pass this shit” you whimpered out, letting your head hit the table. Normally, stupid and dramatic behavior like this would have annoyed the shit out of her but when you did it? Well it was kinda cute.

“Ok, let’s start new ok? We will start at zero and once you’re at one we will get something to eat?” At the word ‘eat’ you immediately perked up, sitting straighter to find new concentration.

It took over an hour for you to get to at least one but Leighton was sure that the hardest work was now done. Or at least she hoped. “So, cafeteria?” You asked as you stuffed all your books into your bag. You received a nod and took off, happy to finally get some food.

Since your first lesson Leighton helped you during class and like two times a week for an hour to four, depending on how fucked you were. And finally, you went from an E to a c- and you were getting even better. The connection between you and Leighton also got better from time to time, creating a strong and unexpected bond.

‘If I have to listen to any of my roommates even one more second, I’m going to kill all of them and then myself”

You couldn’t help but giggle at Leighton text, parents weekend was coming up again and it made her more nervous every day. And while she, even if she won’t admit, actually loved her roommates their chattiness and stuff could get to her.

‘Be outside your dorm in 2’

You texted back, quickly putting on your shoes and jacket before grabbing your wallet and car keys. In the matter of minutes you stood in front of a perfectly styled blonde who wore an annoyed look until she saw you. It was quickly being replaced with a smile as she walked toward you. “So, why’d you want me to be here?” She asked with a giddy voice, as she couldn’t wait to hear what you planned.

“Let’s go to my car and then I’ll tell you” you lead her to your jeep outside of the campus. “My lady” you grinned as you opened the door for her and stretched out your hand to help her inside.

“Thank you very much, such a gentleman. Sooo where are we going?” She studied your face as you pulled out of the parking lot.

“We are going to do something that relaxes you like nothing else”

“What?” She asked, quite confused.

“We are going shopping” you grinned as you drove on to the highway, “but we might have to drive like an hour or something, there’s nothing close that has your standards” her jaw fell as you stopped talking. She couldnt believe that you actually knew where she liked to shop and that you were just out here driving her there.

“You’re kidding right?” She asked, a squeal leaving her when she figured out that you were telling the truth. “That’s so sweet, thank you”

After over an hour of comfortable driving you finally parked your car near her favorite shops. “Alright princess, let’s go” you grinned as you opened the passenger door, your hand stretched out to help her out. “Where to first?”

Your first shop was YSL which leighton already left with two begs. Or rather you as you immediately took the bags so she could look around in the next shop which was Balenciaga and then Prada, Givenchy, Versace, Dior, Louis Vuitton, and Tom Ford.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry anything?” The blonde asked as she could barely see you underneath all the bags you carried for her. At least one of each brand, or rather at least two of each brand. She couldn’t deny that it was extremely cute, the way you did all of this for her.

“Positive. Are you sure you don’t wanna go anywhere else anymore?” You asked as she walked back to the car. If you were really quiet you could hear her credit card scream.

“Yeah, but maybe we could go and eat something at a real restaurant?”

“Sure, what did you have in mind?” You asked while putting the bags in the trunk, the blonde standing next to you. After she found a restaurant she liked you made your way there, even from the outside you could see that it was really fancy. “Are you sure I can go inside like this?” You weren’t dressed badly but definitely not as expensive as her which made you unsure of your outfit.

“Of course, you look good” the smile she sent you made your heart beat faster and your face flush a little red. “Now Let’s go, I’m starving” she was out of the car in the matter of seconds, waiting for you to join her. Once you left the car you walked next to each other, your hands constantly brushing against the other ones. You had heard that Leighton was not a big pda fan so you guessed that it was an accident. But you didn’t pull away in case of this being on purpose.

After you guys ate it was already late and the eventful day was catching up to her as she fell asleep in the car. You smiled at the sight, she looked a lot calmer than most of the time and you couldn’t see one bit of the stress from this morning. When you had to stop on a red light you retrieved your jacket from the backseat and put it over her to act like a blanket.

You carefully tapped her shoulder to wake her up which didn’t work. “Leighton, we are here. Cmon, wake up” you whispered and shook her shoulder.

“M awake” she grumbled as her eyes slowly opened.

“Good, take the time that I need to get your backs to wake up okay?” She gave you a small nod before you disappeared, wondering how you carried all those bags before. After you finally got each and every bag on you, you walked back to the passenger seat where Leighton was finally awake.

“Alright, let’s go” she jumped out of the car, your jacket now over her shoulders and her pinky linked with yours as she pulled you along to her dorm. “You can just put them down over there” she told you as she pointed to the corner next to her closet. “Thank you, a lot. The last days were really stressful and today made me forget about it” you smiled at her, taking a step forward.

“It was my pleasure. Weirdly, I can’t think of anything better than carrying your bags for you” she giggles shyly and also takes a step toward you. Your hand gravitates towards her waist while hers carefully rests on your shoulder. You leaned in further, your lips slightly touching as your hand tightened around her waist. But before you could do anything else, Bella came in.

“Leighton! Guess what” she started to scream out, making you pull away quickly. Your hands left her waist and were immediately pushed into your pockets. “Oh my god, did I just cockblock you?” The dark haired girl screamed even louder making both of you cringe.

“No, no you didn’t. I gotta go, I have class really early tomorrow. Thanks again Leigh and I’ll see you around Bella” you quickly left the room without looking back but you could still feel the blondes nerves.

You decided that you’d talk to her tomorrow, it was late and she probably had to listen to Bella ramble about whatever was going on. So tomorrow just seemed like the safer option, at least until it was later the next day and you still haven’t seen her. It was Friday which meant that you didn’t have a course with her and you were extremely busy. But as you were scared that she might think that you were trying to avoid her.

“Sad I didn’t see you today. Sorry I left so quickly, but I couldn’t stay after Bella said whatever she said. Can’t wait to see you again :)”

You took a deep breath before hitting send. By now you were scarred that she might be avoiding you and that she was actually very unhappy about the kiss. What you didn’t know was that Leightons heart started to beat faster when she saw your name pop up on her screen. She was scared of what might now be between you two after you left so suddenly.

“Whose text are you smiling at like that?” Whitney asked as they all sat in the common room. While she did try to annoy her roommate she was more than happy to see her friend like this.

“None of your business” she grumbled, her smile still being very apparent.

“Oh, I bet it’s y/n” Kimberly shyly added. She was good with Leighton but she sometimes still scared her.

“Gosh, they would be a hot ass couple. Y/n’s hot. Damn you’re a lucky lady” Bella said, slapping her hand on the blondes leg which made her glare at her.

“Remember how I said none of your business?” They all laughed as she returned to her phone.

“Get that, wished I could have left too. I thought you were avoiding me. I’ll see you tomorrow right? Are u bringing ur parents to math too?”

You immediately opened the chat, not giving a damn about seeming needy.

“Ofc, that’s the only reason they’re coming. Couldn’t dream of avoiding u, wanna meet up before math tomorrow?”

After you talked about when and where you’d meet tomorrow you texted her goodnight and went to sleep, your mind filled with pictures of the blonde.

The next morning you were up way too early but when your parents came you had to get ready a lot more than normally. “There you are y/n” your mother called out as she walked up to you with open arms, a fake smile on her face. You hugged all of them as a greeting before standing opposite of them.

“Alright, we will go to that parents thing and then we will come to your math class ok?” Your father didn’t wait for an answer as they walked away making you sigh. You, just as many others, were more than happy about this parents thing today. It gave you some peace and quiet.

Leighton was waiting for you in front of the lecture room, the new bag she bought with you slung over her shoulder. “Hey” you smiled shyly as walked up to her, her face adorned with a similar one.

“Hello” she looked around before continuing to talk, “I am so happy about this parent meeting. I was about to kill myself” you laughed nodding.

“You’re telling that to me? My parents asked about this course before asking about me. And I wish I were joking” both of you laughed before just staring at each other for a moment. In a moment of confidence the blonde pulled you into the empty room, she smiled brightly as she noticed that you happily followed.

The moment the door closed, your hands were on her hips and hers were cupping the back of your neck. You didn’t need any words before your lips crashed against each other, her scent developing you whole. Without breaking the kiss you guided her against the wall, her back making harsh contact with it. “Sorry” you mumbled when she gasped, barely breaking the kiss. You kept making out until the blondes phone started to ring.

“Let it ring” she mumbled when she noticed that you were pulling away. You laughed and tried to pull away again but she kept pulling you closer or chasing your lips.

“Leigh, I’d love to keep making out. Trust me. But our parents are gonna come soon and if I had to guess I’d say that this is your dad” you explained as you pulled away, your hands rubbing along her hips. She groaned before looking at her phone, seeing that you were right. With another groan she answered the phone, the arm around your neck keeping you close. Since you got bored when she was on the phone, you started to lightly kiss her neck up and down.

She bit her lip to stop her giggles, but she didn’t push you away. Instead she pulled you even closer, just waiting to hang up. When she finally did, she gave you a quick kiss. “My parents will be here in 10 minutes” she told you, her fingers playing with the baby hair on the back of your neck.

“Then we should probably fix your makeup and my hair huh?” You asked as one of your hands ran through your hair. When you received a nod you opened your hand for her to give you her pocket mirror so she could see what she was doing.

“You’re a great mirror holder babe” she joked when she was done freshening up her makeup and then fixed your hair for you.

“Babe?” You grinned watching her face fall and her confidence suddenly replaced with doubt.

“I mean- yeah, we are- I thought” you decided to interrupt her as her behavior freaked you out. A not confident Leighton was a new world.

“You thought right, I was just messing with you. Cmere” you pulled her closer for another kiss, that quickly turned into multiple small pecks.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N” your mothers voice suddenly rang.

Gosh, you were fucked.

[etherealily]

guilt // f.odair

[1/3] Long. this was queued, idk if I've already promised another character before this is out.

Part 2 : Art

Finnick Odair + fem!reader. Warnings : Cuss words, SFW but discretion advised, mature themes.

Desc. : But is it in his nature?

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

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'Suck on his sellout cock, go ahead', your mind taunts you as you traipse behind him into the Victor's Village, a place where you simultaneously hoped you'd live and you'd never step into again.

See, Finnick had always dominated your childhood.

You grew up watching him charm the nation, be welcomed back to the District like he was God.

One of your biggest flexes was that you got to see him in person in a parade once, when he'd come back from one of his many Capitol visits.

However. That all changed once you became fifteen. Because you'd finally got some fucking sense and realized that the people at the Capitol, the Hunger Games, none of it was fair, it was all fucking shit.

And you hated Finnick all the more for it.

Prancing around, doing promotions, adverts, sending children to die, being the Capitol's bitch. You'd narrowly escaped your last chance to be reaped, but you still wished he'd choke on his ridiculously expensive Capitol meal.

You couldn't respect him.

But. But, it wasn't like you'd ever tell him that, though. Because when Finnick Odair talks to you, you fucking talk back.

And when he tells you he wants you to come back home with him after seeing you by the ocean one night, you go, no matter how much you'd rather fucking kill yourself.

"This is my house.", he smiles, and waits expectantly, as if you're supposed to applaud.

"It's nice."

He doesn't look disappointed or surprised at that. In fact, he seems mildly entertained. "Get in."

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"And then, maybe, just bring your hand up the side of your leg? Yeah, yeah, just like that. Okay, yeah, sweetheart, that's it."

Click.

"And this is for..."

"Modelling."

"For the Capitol?"

"Who else?"

You raise a brow, your mind immediately picturing some rhinestone encrusted Capitol asshole getting off to a picture of you. You shudder.

"I'm joking. It's for me."

"For you?"

"Feel free to look around.", he says, offhandedly, as he looks through the camera at all the pictures he'd just clicked of you. "Maybe something will catch your fancy."

"You brought me here to... take pictures of me and... let me take whatever I want from your house?"

"I'm a weirdo, sweetheart."

"What will you do with the pictures?"

"I dunno. Can't publish them anywhere. I guess I'll just use them.", he mutters, more to himself than you, but you catch it. He looks up and then clarifies, "To improve my photography skills."

Thank fuck.

"Why me?"

"You're a good subject."

Your fingers move almost fluidly past various things, bottles of expensive liquor, watches, jewellery that he probably stole from his long list of Capitol lovers, and a single, slightly pathetic looking conch.

"I'm a subject? Like... math?"

He snorts. It's condescending, he's aware - there's no way you'd know. You've never been out of the District.

"It's photography lingo. A subject is who you're taking photos of. You have the correct facial structure for my lighting to illuminate you how I want it to. Hence, you're a good subject."

"Oh."

He continues flicking through photos and adjusting the background, taking a few trial shots with the result of his tinkering, until he seems to notice that you haven't spoken in a while. "You like the conch?"

"It's pretty."

"So are you."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Ugh. There he goes again, back to Finnick Odair, Capitol man-whore instead of Finnick, photo geek.

You turn to him. "How much did it cost? Twice the wine?"

"I didn't buy it. I found it, back when I was eleven."

"You've had it for almost a decade?"

He licks his lips, his hands pausing their scrolling of the camera's gallery for a moment. "I guess it has been a decade."

"What was it like, though? When you won?"

"Won? Won what?"

"The Games."

"Oh. Uh... bittersweet."

"Bitter? Why would it be bitter?"

"You ask a lot of questions. Sit down."

You know the truth. He just didn't want to admit that there was nothing bitter going on. He won because he was hot, and now, he continued reaping the benefits of his genetic lottery win.

You sit, still looking up at him as he comes to kneel in front of you, turning his camera to you. "What do you think?"

The pictures he's taken of you have an unsettling ethereality to them. In one, you're looking out the window with your back to the camera, your outfit hidden by a rose he'd apparently been holding in front of the camera.

A white rose.

It featured in every fucking picture, so much so that you almost asked him about it. Key word : almost.

In one of the more lighthearted ones, the rose sat in your mouth.

"They're pretty nice."

"Is your vocabulary limited to those two words? Pretty. Nice."

"I don't know what else to say."

He regards your face for a moment - like, really fucking observes you - before fiddling with some knob on the camera. "Take off your clothes."

That shouldn't have surprised you as much as it did.

"What?"

He looks up, confused. "Take off your clothes and I'll take some pictures."

"What? No."

"You don't want to? But you were okay with all the previous pictures."

"Yeah, because I was clothed."

"Being unclothed is a problem for you? Being exposed? Hm? That bothers you?"

What?!

"I- look, man, I'm not trying to offend you."

"But you are. You said you'd let me take photos of you. You are not your clothes, are you? You are your self, your soul, your body."

"Yeah, but I'm just not comfortable."

'Y'know what, sweetheart, people do shit they're not comfortable with all the fucking time. Twenty-five/eight. If you can't deal with it, you're weak. Take. It. Off."

You had a feeling there was another reason he was so angry about your non-compliance, but you didn't push it.

"Please don't make me do this."

"Fine! FUCK! Am I asking you to suck my cock? Huh? I could, y'know that? I could've, but no, I asked you to help me make art, and you chickened out!", he yells, his finger scarily close to poking your eye.

Finnick Odair was no longer pissing you off.

Finnick Odair was genuinely scaring you.

"Just get out.", he mutters, setting his camera down in defeat on his couch. "Get out, seriously."

You don't even have two seconds of backing-away-time before he stops you again. "What if I killed your family?"

That scares you more. "What?"

"What if I killed your family? Or at least, threatened to? Would you do it? Would you?", he asks, and now, he's not angry at you, or frustrated, he's more desperate, frantic, as if your answer would shake his fucking world.

As if your answer would change his self perception.

"Please don't kill my family."

"Would you suck my cock if I threatened to kill your family, Y/N?!"

"YES!", you scream, flinching, almost. "Yes! I would, but please, PLEASE don't!"

Finnick Odair gazes back at you with relief, and you want to strangle him. "You would, wouldn't you? You'd do unspeakable things for your family, yes?"

Well, of course.

"Things that would make your skin crawl. Not just because you love them, but because you're responsible for them. Because you got yourself into this mess."

He's no longer talking to or about you, that much is clear.

"And it's up to you to keep them away from it."

Slowly backing away, you try your hardest not to show up in his peripheral, to make sure he stays in whatever zone he's in.

But he is Finnick Odair. So he doesn't even look up at you as he instructs you. "Don't take the conch." Like stealing from him was the first thing on your mind.

"Wasn't planning to."

"Don't tell anyone about today."

"Wasn't planning to."

"Stay."

Wasn't planning to.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Please. Stay."

The apology only solidifies your urge to stab him in the gut. "I have to get home."

"I didn't mean stay the night. I don't want you staying the night."

Finnick Odair, as you had begun to gather, was debilitatingly honest.

"I just mean stay for a while. Have dinner and then go."

"Dinner?"

"Yes, dinner. I have turkey from the Capitol."

"What's that?"

"It's a kind of bird. It's just like chicken but better."

"What's chicken?"

"Another kind of bird."

"Oh."

He frowns at you for a moment. "You're not okay with eating birds, are you?"

"They're just... very rare, so I don't see why you have to kill them."

He sighs, looking around the room in deep thought. "I could make fish. You know fish. You like fish."

You do know fish. You do like fish. You nod.

~~~~

Finnick's fish is unlike any you've ever fucking eaten.

Living in District 4, you'd figured you'd had fish every way it could be cooked. But no.

You can't help but take more. And more. And more. You weren't hungry, and momentarily felt guilt, thinking about kids in the other districts who were, but it was divine and you couldn't bring yourself to care much.

"You like that?", he asks, from opposite you, raising a brow in amusement.

"It's really fucking good."

He whistles lowly. "Ooh, nice, vocabulary expansion. So you do cuss. I was afraid I'd corrupted you with my rough Capitol language.", he muses, looking at your plate. "You have room for dessert?"

"Doesn't everyone, always?"

He nods. "That's fair. Cake?"

CAKE? This Capitol whore managed to bring cake back to District 4?

"Sure."

That was divine, too.

"You like that, too?"

"Yeah. It's really good. The Capitol has it really good."

"The Capitol is filled with cunts who throw up food because they want to taste more."

Was that... disdain? Interesting.

"Well, seeing as you spend most of the year there, I just thought..."

He stands, clearing the plates. "What? That I was one of them?"

You watch him go into the kitchen, taking a sip of water as you do. "No, just that... no, yeah, I did."

"It's okay, I get that a lot. I just... I gotta go, do these promotions, adverts. I have to. I made a deal."

You sigh, standing and pushing the dining table chair back to its original position. "Contract?"

He clenches his jaw momentarily, before nodding, his shoulders tense. "Yeah. Sm'n like that.", he grins, his dimples emerging once more. Thirteen year old you would have swooned and fainted and died.

Eighteen year old you just lets him lead you to the door.

"I'm leaving for the Capitol tomorrow. Along with the tributes from this year."

Why he's telling you this, you have no clue.

"You should come and wave me off."

"Do we know each other well enough for that?"

"No, but I know you know the tributes well. One of them goes to school with you, doesn't she?"

Yes. Little Faye.

"Yes, she's in the eighth grade. I used to tutor her."

The reality hits. She will probably never be able to high-five you when she gets a question right again.

"You should give her courage.", he suggests. "Going in thinking you're going to die will get you killed. Let her know she can make it."

"Can she?", you ask, quietly. The answer will ruin you, you can tell.

"She's a Career."

"Yes, but can she?"

"Chances are slim." Finnick fucking Odair. Finnick "debilitatingly honest" fucking Odair. "I won't tell her that, though."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Finnick."

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His hands grip your chin and you swear you're about to kill him. You look up at him, hanging out the open door of the train carriage and holding onto you, and you're half tempted to pull him down with you because what the fuck was he doing?

You can feel it coming, the urge to slap him away, but then again, it's still Finnick FUCKING Odair, and you're not sure if there's a law against rejecting his advances.

So you just kind of let him kiss you. It's not bad, no, far from it, it's just... unexpected.

Considering it's in front of every camera in the district.

Considering you'd only known each other one night.

Considering his last words were 'you're the only thing I care about.'

Considering he said your full name an unsettling amount of times.

Considering little Faye was watching and wondering why you were calm enough to be making out with some hot guy instead of sending her off.

Considering now the entirety of Panem was either going gush at you or rush at you.

~~~~

You can't bring yourself to watch the news.

Everyone assumes it's because of Finnick.

But, ironically, Finnick's the only one who knows it's not.

It's because of Faye.

"Finnick's on TV.", you're informed at least twice an hour.

"'Kay.", is your usual response. "Faye?"

"I'm sure Finnick trained her well. And besides, the 11th is this weekend! You'll find out."

Right. You'd been invited by Snow him-fucking-self to the Capitol. Apparently, the cameras outside your house weren't enough. He needed you there, with Finnick, for promos. While children were dying.

You receive gifts from your family, your neighbours, your teachers - basically anyone you'd breathed around - for your journey to the Capitol, as if you're going to some dreamland.

As you ride the train, your head against the seat, you try to imagine this is the train that leads you out of District 4. Your family will be waiting at the destination - in your head, an actual dreamland - and you'll be fine and dandy.

As you're escorted out, you imagine you're hanging from the ceiling in full display on the TV instead of Faye having to go through the Games.

And as you're directed to Finnick's room, you imagine slitting his throat. It's funny. You almost laugh. Then, the door opens.

Dimples.

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"How is it you've never worn lip tint before?", he mutters, tutting as if you'd just misspelled a basic word. "C'mon, pucker up.", he instructs, his thumb smearing red on your lips.

You have no idea what you look like and you're not sure if you want to find out. "I thought you were a merchant."

You shake your head. "No, I said I live by the merchant sector of 4."

"Not in it?"

"Of course not. Why would I have been picking seashells to make necklaces out of if I were a merchant? I just sell shit in the marketplace. Doesn't make me a merchant."

"I mean, technically... yeah, it does.", he says, his thumb accidentally slipping and smudging your makeup over the left of your cheek.

"Right, well, I'm not merchant class.', you shrug, trying to wipe the results of idiocy that was Finnick Odair off the side of your cheek.

Finnick... seems to get it. He nods along as he continues trying to de-plague your face with makeup.

Guilt is etched on his face. Regret, a tiny bit. Sadness, festering throughout.

"What's that look?"

He doesn't seem like he's out of whatever thought he was in moments ago when he hums in response, before quickly leaping towards his bedside and taking his camera, holding his thumb next to your bottom lip, with your still messy lip tint just about seen. Click.

"What's that look?", you repeat.

"What look?"

"That one.", you say, pointing to his face as if he can see it.

"That's my sorry look. I shouldn't have sprung the kiss on you. It was a dick move.", he says, gently moving behind you and guiding your shoulders to manoeuver you to face the mirror.

He says it as if he already knows you'll forgive him.

Yes, you do. But it irks you that he seems to assume that.

"Yes, it was."

"I'm sorry. What do you think?"

"I look like the 12 escort."

"Trinket? No, no way. You look great.", he assures, and you try to believe him, but you haven't seen yourself in makeup before and it doesn't look as though it's you standing there.

"Beautiful.", he says, as an afterthought, almost, as if he were trying out the word to see if it sounded right or not. He seems to decide on the former. "Beautiful.", he repeats, nodding.

That gets your attention and you take a second glance, and suddenly, you see what he sees. The makeup isn't subtle and hidden, but it isn't what the Capitol wears. It's... pleasant.

He brushes some hair in front of your shoulders. "See? Beautiful.", he reiterates, like he can't get enough of that word now.

"You sure I'll fit in here like this? Like... dressed up?"

"Yeah.", he says, vehemently nodding before doing that thing when he looked in your eyes again. "Well, mostly. I mean, I'd prefer it if you had the easiest time possible, 'cause I kinda got you into this mess."

You nod. That checks out. "Thanks."

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The night sees you staring at the ceiling while Finnick breathes softly in sleep beside you. It's pleasant. Domestic, almost. Like what Finnick wants, you think. Like the Capitol believes, you know.

He shifts and your eyes snap shut. Why you're so afraid of him finding out that you are awake, you don't know, but you are. He reaches out, his knuckles grazing your cheek with enough purpose that you realize he wasn't asleep in the first place, either.

And then he does it.

His hand reaches out, gently feeling around for your hand, before he grips the middle three fingers on your left.

He squeezes them softly, then brings them to his chest, where his own hand lays. That's it.

You watch him actually sleep until he mumbles, shifting again. 'Y/N?"

"Yeah?", you respond immediately, kicking yourself internally. Cover blown.

"Can't sleep?"

"No."

"Scared?"

"Mhm."

"Of the photos we took today? I promise, the makeup isn't bad, and you won't have to take any more - they'll publish them and pass them off as taken over a few months, so it's not-"

"No, for Faye."

Silence. "Oh."

"I feel like I didn't get to even tell her how well she's going to do."

"You can see her."

You can what?

"When?"

"Well, not in person, but we can watch the live feed of the Gam-"

"Yes. Yes, please, thank you.'

He sits up, rubbing his eyes. "Really?"

"Yes. Yes, absolutely. When can we?"

"Well, technically, it's always streaming, so I, I guess we can go now."

You nod.

He raises a brow as if he never expected you to agree. "Okay, uh, just, uh... gimme a second to wake up, okay?"

He comes out of the bathroom after washing his face to find you pacing, biting the inside of your cheek. "C'mon."

~~~~

The Viewing Room is desolate except for a few Gamemakers' Assistants (GAs), that have to watch footage 24/7.

"We have to record these things all the time, just in case something happens during the cover of nightfall", he explains, as he walks in front of you and gestures to the large screen in the opposite side of the room. "Usually, the stronger Careers, from 1 or 2-", he cuts himself off. That was not what you needed to be hearing right now.

He watches as you slowly walk up to the screen, as though the soft glow from it could lead you to Faye. Your eyes dart around the entirety of the enormous screen, looking for something - anything - to announce you of Faye's survival.

"She is still alive. You'd have heard a cannon and seen a picture of her if not."

It's not the most comforting thing he can say. He's usually better at this. God, if he didn't miss his old self, but the guilt of essentially using you to keep Snow's interest off his family and on you, the - to the extent of Snow's knowledge, anyway - love of his life, isn't exactly letting him be warm and inviting to you.

But he wants to. Let it be known, he wants nothing more than to do what he usually does. Brighten people up.

"Where is she?"

"WE'VE GOT A RUNNER!", calls one of the GAs and your head snaps to a blue triangle tracking one of the tributes on the screen, and you run over to that side of the massive screen.

The lights come on in the room, and people flood in. Sponsors, gamblers, Gamemakers. Because this is prime TV. He imagines every screen in the country lighting up, because you have to watch. Every child has just been woken up because the feed's back on.

"Who's the runner?", someone asks, and Finnick turns to you, diligently tracking the blue triangle with your eyes. Blue. Ocean. District 4. It's Faye.

"Girl from Four. The boy's already dead."

"How much did I have on her?"

"Oh, c'mon, you didn't have shit on her! No one thought she'd make it this far."

"Fine, fine, but now how much?"

The sounds of cruelty almost have him zoning out, going back into Capitol-Party-Finnick-Mode. That is, until, you call him.

"Finnick?"

He rushes to your side, a guilt induced speed to his gait. "Yeah, y'okay?" No the fuck she isn't. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Who's the gold triangle chasing her?" Gold. Luxury. District 1. CAREER.

"Uh..." Deliver it softly. Sweetly.

"Unless she's a shapeshifter, the girl's DEAD!", laughs one of the sponsors. "It's my tribute, the Career boy from 1 chasin' her, with... wait, zoom in? Oh, yeah, a dagger!"

Your eyes widen and Finnick wants to kill himself. "She'll be fine. She can swim, he..."

Can also swim. Fuck.

"... he won't be able to keep up with her." , he says, finally.

Partially true. District 1 Careers didn't have access to the ocean, not like those from 4, so it was very much possible that he wasn't trained to know about tides and currents and shit.

There's a moment where no one in the room says anything. Because they both just jumped into the water, and Faye went under.

Finnick holds your head to his chest as you cling onto him in fear. It's not even remotely close to making up for what he's planning to put you through - well, already putting you through - but he at least feels a bit like the old him. The one who could actually comfort.

The tribute from 1 splashes around a bit, looking for Faye. You've turned a bit now, your head's still in his chest, but half your face is facing the screen. You're watching, anxious as ever.

"She's not drowned.", he mutters, stupidly. Duh.

"What if something pulled her under?"

Oh fuck. Yeah. Valid point.

"I'm sure it's just a strategy."

One that he remembers teaching her.

Maybe if she uses this and beats this District 1 Career, he could be one more step closer to gaining your forgiveness, and his redemption.

For a crime that the victim wasn't even aware was being committed.

The Career flounders around a bit more, screaming, clearly, but the audio is muted here. He looks around, not willing to look under, in case that might trigger the release of any muttations the Capitol cooked up for them.

And then, he's tugged a bit, his leg down, and he springs away from the motion. Please be Faye. Please be Faye.

He's jerked fully under, and a splash of Faye's hair can be seen before both disappear underneath the midlly murky waters, a struggle very evident in the way the water's splattering about.

Suddenly, it stops.

Faye leaps exhaustedly onto the bank, gasping for breath.

A cannon goes off. Florian Jentry. District 1 , Luxury. Score : 10.

Finnick holds onto you tighter as you sigh in relief. He softly kisses your hair because he doesn't know what else to do.

Relief is the only possible emotion to feel.

No one's happy. No one's sad. You're only either relieved that your loved one isn't gone, or relieved that they're not gone in a torturous way.

Wait, scratch that. The patron who just bet on Faye is happy.

[sjywrites]

Hii can I request Sophia x reader academic rivals? 🥺 u can do whatever u want w the plot pretty much please and thank u so much <3 :)

༊*·˚ ACADEMIC RIVALS LOVERS?

𝓢ophia 𝓛aforteza x 𝓖n!reader. (no pronouns used). 𝓖enre. fluff, angst if you squint 𝓢ypnosis. our two favourite academic rivals have a lil fight, but the situation turns bad, and people realize their feelings. 𝓦𝓒 . 824 𝓒𝓦 . mentions of being hospitalised (sophia), a little angsty!

𝓝ote! this is a little messy since I wrote it during one of my breaks, but please lmk if you want like a part two cuz I really liked this plot!

---

This is purely fiction and is not meant to interpret how the idols act in real life!

,, not proofread + english is not my first language ! ೃ⁀➷

At this point it didn’t even matter if you were better than everyone, you just had to be better than her. It started off very simple, both of you wanted to be better than everyone, academically that is. Eagerly waiting to get tests back and see who got a higher score, a smug grin on one's face when they got a better result than the other. No harm in that right? Wrong, that’s what started all of this.

Sophia walked towards me with her head held high, her uniform as neat as ever and her hair styled in a way making her look almost angelic. Wait, what? “What were your results?” She said, slamming her paper on top of my desk, I shook out of my daydreaming to answer her. “96.” I said while looking down in my maths book, trying to solve an equation but still focusing on what she would respond. She looks away and a teasing smirk spreads on her lips, and moves the finger that covered her results, 97. “Guess I’m just better than you huh?” She said proudly, staring down at me “Just because you got one point more than me doesn’t mean you’re better than me.” I said, pouting a little at her accusation.

Lately I’ve been feeling kind of… weird? Even if Sophia gets a higher score than me, I can’t find it in me to give a fuck. “Well, you’ve been slacking off a lot lately, I’ve gotten higher scores than you on the last four tests. So, I think that makes it obvious who's smarter!” Sophia states like it was the most obvious answer to what I said. Staring at her for a moment, I reply. “I've been busy okay, not everyone has that much free time to spend on studying, and you're talented in general, no wonder you get high scores” She looks shocked at my statement, then she smirks a little, “Did you just admit that I'm smart?” She looked proud in some way or another, “Not what I meant Sophia, but whatever floats your boat.” I grab my things from the desk and walk outside the classroom to my locker, a little frustrated at the whole situation. I did miss her response,

“I study that much so you won't think I'm stupid.”

A week goes by, no Sophia in sight. She missed two assignments, she's usually here every day. Even if she's sick, which I don't get why she does, but still. Did something happen to her? Was it something I did?

“You've been zoning out for the past like, three periods, what is going on with you today?” Lara, my best friend asks. “Do you know where Sophia is?” I ask, not really thinking before I ask. “Why do you want to know, don't you guys like, hate each other?” She looks at me with a very questionable look, suspecting something I cannot grasp, “Yes? No? I don't know Lara, but do you know where she is?” I say, a little confused and concerned. She looks at me with sad eyes before replying, “Y/N, Sophia got really sick out of nowhere, I heard she's at the hospital.” My eyes blew wide at the shocking news, why didn't she tell me? No, why would she do that? We're not even friends.

—

Am I really doing this? I think to myself as I open the hospital doors and stumble up to the kind-looking man in the lobby. I strike up a casual conversation with him as he guides me to a room, I thank him quickly before he scurries away.

There in the little window on the door I see her, Sophia's sitting down on the bed. Her hair is a mess and her clothes look ridiculous, it looks like she hasn't slept for a few days too. I gently open the door and her gaze falls upon me, it's easier to see her face now. She looks tired, really tired. “Hey…” I say, she looks away from me and cuddles up in her sitting position. “What are you doing here?” she tries to sound annoyed, but it just comes out in a tired huff. “I heard what happened, I… was worried about you. I brought some notes from the classes you missed.” She looks shocked at my confession, she relaxes her posture and her gaze becomes soft. “Thank you… I really appreciate it.” She smiles a little as she grabs the papers I handed her, our hands touching softly.

I look at her, really look at her. For the first time actually having time to admire how pretty she looks, how perfect her flaws are. “I just came to give you that… so if you don't need anything else, I'll go.” I turn around to walk away, grabbing the door knob and turning it around, “Wait! Will you… please stay with me a little longer, I need it.

I need you.”

this is so messy I'm sorrrrryyyy!! I wanted to post something today at least :((

[asterr1sk]

math homework ⭑𓂃 part 1 ⭑𓂃 part 2

⊹₊ ⋆ hong seunghan wc: 831 genre: friends to lovers, confession, pining, slight angst, suggestive

a/n: i'm missing seunghan again. i really hope he's doing fine

it's becoming unbearable to be alone with seunghan in the same room. it has already been a week since you started questioning your feelings for him. it meant nothing. it was definitely just the moment. maybe you always thought about it, but never at this point. you decided to keep your distance from him this past week. you didn't even think about his feelings about you being distant.

he was racking his brain over what he had done, which likely made you uncomfortable or annoyed. he wanted to thank you for tutoring him, as he achieved a high score. your help kept him focused, and he had never been this motivated, especially in math. he tried to talk to you every day after class, but before he could find you, you were already gone.

you were two seats behind him in class. you regretted sitting behind him. he was in your view, so no matter what you do, he’s there. you kept looking at his spiked earring. 

“y/n, the subject’s already done. we can go home now.” your seatmate poked your arm to get your attention and left. seunghan caught you glancing at him, which made you panic. you quickly started stuffing all your things into your bag before he could approach you.

“hey, y/n. i was wondering if you could help me again. please talk to me,” he said as you stared down at your bag and looked up at him. he definitely looked upset. of course he would be. why was it easy for you to ignore him? did he mean nothing to you?

“sure,” you answered. he was happy that you were willing, but he still sensed something was wrong. “if it’s okay, we can go back to my dorm.” he smiled lightly, and it was true that you missed seeing him smile. in response, you nodded. he took your bag so that you wouldn’t carry anything. 

you were back in the room that started everything. you sat there quietly with your things neatly on the table while you waited for him to get snacks. 

“okay, so i still have the food that you like." he placed it in front of you and then sat down. you just realized now that you didn’t listen to the lesson earlier, so what were you even going to teach him? “you know what? i don’t think i could help you with this. i didn’t listen because i was distracted.” you said and laughed softly. “well then, i guess it’s my time to teach you. i’m sure you will catch up. you’re good at these things.” he teased you. he was moving closer to you, and thoughts were out of the window. how could you even focus now that he’s right beside you? 

hours went on, and although you did listen to him, the words left the other ear. you then realize that the room was silent and seunghan was staring at you. 

“please tell me what made you distance yourself from me. the whole week i was trying to think about what i did wrong. i didn't know what to do. it hurts me to see you ignore me so easily. i need you here with me,” he said, then thought maybe he was making you uncomfortable with all this. “forget what i said. i let my emotions get me,” he said, backing away from you and avoiding your stare. 

“it's not that it was easy for me to not think of you. it was just that you occupied my mind all the time.” you put your hand on his cheek. “i'm sorry, i didn't know any better to handle this. it was overwhelming to think that.” you took a deep breath and sighed. “i liked you,”

he looked into your eyes and put his lips on you, pulling you closer. “you have no idea how much i wanted to do that for so long,” he said, breaking the kiss and smiling ear to ear. that smile is something you want to see every day. 

 “may i?” he asked while tugging on your shirt. you nodded in response. “i need your words, princess.” he lifted your head with his finger on your chin and came so close to your face. you could feel his breath on your lips. “just touch me already.” you grabbed his hands and let them rest on your waist. you swore you were never this needy. 

his hands finally went under your shirt, and they were warm. “sit on my lap,” he said, pulling you by the waist. you cupped his cheeks as he kept squeezing your waist, moving slowly to your hips. “stop teasing me, seunghan,” you whined while he just laughed at how cute you were. “i want to take my time as much as i’m desperate to fuck you already. i want to see you melt,” he whispered in your ear, pushing you down on his lap. “god, you’ll be the death of me.”

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THEM [PART 1]

-> Dating your best friend Eddie Munson might have been pictured differently in your head. Despite a blissful weekend, you’re met with a few bumps in the road; and, your friends slowly figure out that what you're doing in private crosses the boundaries between friend and lover.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, secret relationship, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive scenes [no smut]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

This is a sequel to One of the Boys

-> <-

“Eddie,” you hiss.

The heat on your back is nothing compared to the heat in your chest. A sweet melody plays in your ear that contradicts the salty hot back you find your hands slipping over.

You draw your finger across his spine feeling him shiver at your touch. The world is a blur beyond the bodies.

Again, your lips touch his. Resistance isn’t an option. He’s waited too long to hold you. To bring you to new sensations. To experience a brand new world together, as though you’re new. That is you are. He’s never been this close. This intimate. Somehow he brings you closer. Entangled. Entranced.

Your mind burns with anticipation. Fingers sneak under your bra strap. Teasing his tongue against the newly exposed flesh, you whine and melt into his strong embrace.

He worships you.

“Just ignore them,” Eddie hums when your jerked from the moment by a car door slamming shut.

Your not too far away for Eddie to catch up when he lays you down onto your back on his bed, and slots himself in between your legs.

“Hey, Ed!” Wayne shouts (because honestly, he knows your here and he doesn’t want to catch either of you nude or worse).

Eddie drops his head to your chest, and groans the most irritable groan. Laughter bubbles in your chest. Rolling away from you, he sinks into his mattress.

You spring from Eddie’s bed, and start redecorating the junk on his floor.

“Where’s my shirt?” You keep your voice low.

Eddie points to the lamp. Your shirt hangs over the shade creating a nifty shadow onto his ceiling. Perfect mood lighting if you are so keen to say. If not for Eddie’s uncle, you only imagine what you could be doing right now.

Slipping the shirt over your head with a tight tug, you then situate yourself in the floor of his room. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, despite the purpling marks trickling across your neck.

The door punches open. You sit over your textbook writing down math equations, and Wayne tsks.

“Isn’t it a bit late?” Wayne adds a closed fist to his hip.

You check your watch that reads only eight . “I should get going.”

Eddie protests. “Wayne!”

“It’s a school night, Munson,” he says. “Come on, little Miss. I’ll take you home.”

Rules have changed in the Munson residence since last Friday. You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. Wayne still likes you plenty, but he’s keeping close tabs on how much time you spend together. As much as he trusts you both, he does know what is to come in a brand new relationship and he wants both of you to be smart. He can’t outright say anything because he wants you both to figure out the bumps together. It’s not really his place to come between you two.

You hesitate to say ‘goodbye,’ and Wayne gets the hint to turn his back while you kiss his nephew. It’s not like he hasn’t caught Eddie with girls before, but this girl in particular is much different.

Eddie gets up in the morning, before his alarm. There has been more than a handful of times that Wayne sees Eddie whistling over a pot of coffee in the rising sun. He worries that his nephew may be falling for this girl fast. God forbid, she break his heart.

“I’ll see you at school,” you peck his lips.

Eddie chases your kisses when you try to pull away. You giggle when he holds your neck to drag on the smooches. Eventually carrying them on around your chin, your nose and your cheeks.

“Alright,” he unlocks his fingers. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Wayne waits for you in the hallway.

“You know that even if I turn my back, I still know what you’re doing,” he points out.

You shake your head. “We don’t need to talk about it.”

Wayne is tickled by your shyness, and he laughs heartily. You’ve only been with Eddie for the weekend, and who knows what that means for your relationship. He hasn’t called you his girlfriend. By no means, did you imagine he would. This weekend has been the most magical fantasy, and you don’t want to land on the ground just yet.

You hadn’t asked Eddie what your dynamic would be. If he wants to tell anyone. It’s probably too soon anyway. For now, you’re in this eternally blissful bubble and what awaits tomorrow is the future’s problem.

Eddie’s tapping his foot to the beat of the next song that plays. He’s not a fan of pop music, but for you he’d listen to anything. One of his arms is slung across his face to shield the bright lights of his bedroom. He drifts. Pretending that you’re still here because he can’t imagine that his blankets would keep him warm tonight.

Tonight, Eddie believes, could have been the night. You’ve only toured so far in the bounds of your new relationship. When you do make out, Eddie likes to test the possibilities. He likes the way you fall into him when he takes hold of the perfect bite of flesh on your body.

Eddie rips his pillow from under his head to drop over the crotch of his pants. His uncle was coming back to his room by the sound of his footsteps.

“You know she’s not supposed to be here when I’m not here,” Wayne warns.

Eddie sits up. “Do you have a problem with her? Weren’t you the one that told me to go for it?”

“I am,” he rubs his temples. “But, I’m your uncle first. You better respect that girl.”

Eddie huffs. “I am. We went out on Saturday, and I’m taking her out again next weekend to the diner.”

Wayne grunts, then reaches into the back pocket of his jeans. He shoves the tabacco back in place, and takes his wallet out instead. Fishing for a bit, he tosses out thirty bucks to his nephew.

“Take her to a nicer place than that,” he suggests.

Eddie counts the money out, and tries to hand the cash back to his uncle. They need to pay bills first - Eddie can figure out where to take his girl. His girl. ‘Suppose you’ve always been his in a way.

You’ve been on dates that never last because the men you see are turds. Big ol’ brown turds that take you thirty minutes to pop out and they’re tiny, so why the hell did they hurt so bad?

Eddie’s off track.

See, they want to save you from this place. They drive through the trailer park and see the people who live here. Everyone here has a story, but his first instinct is they’re raggedy. A little bit of dirt scares these dudes away. Or, maybe Eddie steps onto his porch and stares at you a little too long, and they get the hint.

You’ve scolded him in the past for scaring off your boyfriends. Eddie couldn’t help the jealousy that casted over him.

It’s a different feeling being in the hot seat now. Like he’s on The Dating Game and you’re talking to contestant number three a little too long, and Eddie’s contestant one.

Wayne doesn’t take the cash back because as much as he cares about Eddie, he also deeply cares for you. You’re the first girl that treats Eddie like a person, and not like you want something from him. He doesn’t always know what Eddie’s up too, but something is bringing people around him that’s not always so positive. And, at least he got rid of the other girl. She has Wayne running around his own home with his tail between his legs.

“Can you close the door at least?” Eddie calls to his uncle, before Wayne can begin his decent down the hall.

Wayne puts his weight on the knob. “At least let me turn on the television first.”

Eddie stiffens.

His uncle howls with laughter, and he carries that with him down the hall. Eddie can hear him behind the shut door.

When he tosses the pillow, his problem has already gone. Physically.

A soft drumming at his bedroom window distracts him from the emotional stuff. He scoots off of his bed, and nearly topples over a pile of laundry you must have pushed out of the way without him noticing. Another task on his to-do list that he’s struggling to complete.

An angel awaits in the moonlight visiting from the heavens above. Your cute little smile weakens him at the knees when he draws the curtains back.

“I couldn’t leave you just yet,” you fight against the chill of the night, but by the simple shirt on your back and the way you tremble, the weather must be winning.

Eddie can’t believe his luck, even now you’re standing here like a dream. “I’ll meet you by the van. It’s open.”

You agree to this, and skirt off to his parked vehicle while dodging the lit areas coming from the living room windows. Surely, Wayne is still awake by the endless noise coming out of the television at such an ear aching volume.

Just inside the trailer, Eddie hides a joint in his wallet. He puts the wallet into his pocket. Biting his cheek, he snatched the condom from his nightstand too. Finding a blanket or two, Eddie wonders how he could sneak around Wayne like this.

He makes the decision to toss the blankets out of the window, before shutting it for good. He locks up, and pulls his curtains to a close.

Eddie has tried too many times to sneak out his bedroom window. None of the attempts have been successful. Wayne would meet him outside before Eddie’s feet even hit the ground.

Lying to Wayne isn’t easy. He’s old. He’s lived a lot of years. And, he knows every excuse in the book.

Yet, Eddie is ready to try again just for your sake.

Before Eddie goes to the living room, however, he does check himself out in the mirror. Brushing his teeth is a bit excessive because he’s already covered that before you came over this evening. He just didn’t want to take any chances.

Eddie dusts himself off. Wearing sweatpants and an old shirt isn’t going to impress you any, but you didn’t seem to mind a few moments ago. Oh, but should he change? Is he wearing underwear with a hole in them? Or . . . clean underwear?

Eddie pulls the waist band out of his pants, then his underwear. Everything is clean and in order- or should he shave? Did you like someone more clean cut because he’s rough. Snapping back the band a little too hard, Eddie groans.

Little does he know, but you’ve got your head stuck in a the side mirror sucking on your own teeth to make sure no foods are stuck in your gums. You sit down in his passenger seat jerking your knee up and down. While you wait, you sniff each side of your under arms and then lean down a bit to sniff below the belt. Nothing. That’s good. That’s great.

You find your tiny bottle of perfume you kept in the tiny pocket in the front of your bag. Spraying on your chest, you then rub what you can into your skin. Putting the bottle back, you rest in your seat.

Eddie sneaks out of the house like a deer that just figured out how to walk. You cover your mouth trying not to laugh at him when he dives for a set of blankets he’s dropped out his window.

He brightens when he sees your face again.

You wonder. “What did you say to Wayne?”

“Nothing, He’s asleep.”

You snicker.

Eddie doesn’t let his car run for long in fear that the distant rumble might shake Wayne. Getting caught before because his van sputters and pops, he is quick to pull back out his parking spot and then to peel out of the trailer park.

You leave him to drive. Wind catching his hair, you chew on your lip knowing that the whole weekend has been perfect.

On Saturday, Eddie took you to the local diner. It’s nothing fancy. Beer battered fries and all. But, you’re just happy to be near him. It’s almost like you’re on a diet, and suddenly you’re giving in to your indulgences. You purr with excitement.

Today is Sunday, and coming up in the next few hours is Monday. You’ll be going back to school, and you try to press the worries down back where they came from. But, you’ve spent most of your time with your lips on his. You haven’t had much time to talk about what would happen when you got to school.

There is still one massive pointy spear in your shoe, and that’s Roxie. She’s going to be at school waiting for you with fists of fury. You’re sure.

If she sees you and Eddie, then she might assume that what she’s suspecting is right. Eddie’s a cheater, and you’re the dirty rotten scum that he’s cheating with. She’ll pummel you.

Eddie takes a wide turn, and glances off to his right. Your eyes glaze over in a wide trance. Your movements are slow. What are you thinking about?

“You doing okay over there?” Eddie asks you.

You blink a couple of times. “Yeah.”

Eddie frowns because now you’re lying. That’s never a great start to your … well, Eddie would like to call what you have a relationship. He’s never asked you though.

You’re not driven much farther because Eddie parks off the side of the road near a forested area. Trees hover and dance in the wind of the night. The air faint of pine. You’re mostly inhaling the remains of that ever lasting smoke smell inside of his van.

“Hey,” Eddie unhooks his belt, so he can take your hand and get your full attention. “You can talk to me.”

You squeeze his palm. “I don’t know. Is this all too soon?”

“What?”

“I mean, Roxie-,”

“Roxie and I were a fling that’s all,” he kisses your knuckles.

You shake your head. “You can’t say that anymore, Eddie. She clearly doesn’t think so.”

“I think the message was clear when she threw a shoe at my head,” Eddie rubs a painful memory. “I think the bump is still there. She throws really hard.”

You snort. “Eddie, seriously, the wound is still fresh. She needs time to heal. And, she’s only going to assume that she was right if she sees us together.”

He breathes, “us? Together?”

“Yeah,” your cheeks heat. “I mean if that’s what you want.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he plays off. “Sure.”

“Sure?”

“Sure,” he laughs along with you. “If you’ll have me.”

“If I said no would you chop me up and throw me in these woods somewhere,” you take a look around you at the dense forest.

Eddie guides you back to him with a gentle grip on your chin.

“And people think I’m sick and twisted,” he kisses you softly. “Where on earth would you get that idea from? No more scary movies for you.”

“Yes, dad,” you joke.

Eddie adjusts, “okay, I’m going need you to get into the back of the van.”

“Gross,” you shake your head. “Seriously, we should lay off the touching or the kissing at school- just for a little while.

Though not ideal, Eddie does understand. He figures he’ll have to speak to Roxie at some point to clear the air. She may be a bit hot headed, but she’s understandable to a point. Right?

“Fine, but you owe me,” he agrees.

You lean in just close enough to tip the scale, and plant a kiss to his lips. Instead you suggest,

“Should we go to the back?”

He melts, “Y-yeah.”

-> <-

tags: @stardustingold @loves0phelia @ogoc-19 @hellfirenacht @blackholegladiator @alligator-person @eggo-segual @rustboxstarr

[schlattslambo]

Study Buddies - Kei Tsukishima x reader

I saw a TikTok of academic rivals to lovers, and tbh, it really got me thinking. This was fully inspired by @/gregrogstad__ on TikTok. Also hi this is my first drabble on here omg I'm kinda nervous-

Reader is gn but is called pretty

*

Tsukishima Kei was one of those guys that you always saw in school, bag slung on his shoulder nonchalantly as he roamed the halls with his best friend Tadashi. He was cold to everyone he spoke to that wasn’t Tadashi, but that didn’t make him not intriguing to you. How his blonde hair fell in tufts along his forehead and curled slightly at the nape of his neck. How his long, slender fingers always seemed to have bandages on them from volleyball practice. He was only observed. Tsukishima was never interacted with. 

Well, until now. 

It had been about 45 minutes since he’d sat down, and you were ready to yank him by the hair and throw him out the nearest window. You were struggling in math, and your teacher was wonderful enough to suggest Tsukishima tutor you before the next test. You weren’t sure if your teacher was sadistic or what, but you were pretty sure that he had it out for you at this point. 

Your grip tightened around your pencil as you clenched your jaw. Tsukishima was watching you carefully, taking notes on how you did your work. He was armed with a red pen, just to make sure that you knew what you were doing wrong. Your teacher had given Tsukishima a few practice tests to help you, and you were still on the first one. After a brief scan to make sure that you did each question, you slid the paper over toward Tsukishima. 

It was quiet for a few moments before Tsukishima sighed, making you look up at him.

“Are you as stupid as you are pretty?” He asked. You nearly choked on air. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean??” You asked, glaring at the blonde. 

“All of these questions are wrong,” Tsukishima said, turning the paper for you to look at it. “Like this one for example, you’re supposed to divide by this number and then subtract.” 

If you were honest, all of the words meant nothing. They went in one ear and out the other. Did Tsukishima Kei just call you pretty?? 

“Well, whatever!” You groaned. “This is useless anyway. I’m not gonna pass the test, so don’t waste your time.” 

You didn’t care how childish you looked as you placed the pencil onto the table with a firm slap, crossing your arms as you sulked in your chair. It was a waste of time having Tsukishima tutor you in a subject that you absolutely hated. With a soft chuckle, Tsukishima shook his head, placing his pen down. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in middle school with a reaction like that.” He said. “Do you want me to dumb it down for you?”

Without waiting for your response, Tsukishima broke the equation up into several parts. He explained each step and had you follow along with him, allowing you to guess the step that came next. You were hesitant at first, grumbling your answers. With a firm glare, you were sitting upright in your seat again, actually understanding the questions for once. After a few more equations, Tsukishima slid another test across the table. 

“Now put all that together and let’s see how you do.” 

You scribbled down your work, shocked that you could actually understand the questions and actually get an answer without just guessing. You slid the paper back with slight confidence, making Tsukishima cock an eyebrow. He grazed over the questions again, checking your work with the answer key (he didn’t have one given to him, he just solved the equations like a weirdo). Only a few red streaks were found on the paper when he sent it back to you. 

“You still have bit more work to do,” He said. “But I think you got the hang of it for the most part.”

You smiled, proud that you had finally understood math for once. Sure, it took some time and dumbed down equations, but you were on your way to passing the test. 

“But I do think we need to meet up again,” Tsukishima continued, a smirk on his face. “Let’s say my place this Saturday, around 5 o’clock.”

this isn't edited so i hope you guys enjoy!

[kowbelll]

hii! this is my first time requesting, buuut could possibly you write something with stiles and a popular reader? maybe they’re paired together on a project and realize they have a lot in common? maybe a sort of an enemies to lovers type thing 🙏

No worries! I actually love this idea, thank you! I just got kind of busy and couldn't put much time into this, but I tried my best so hopefully you enjoy it :)

Alright folks, here we go...

Project

(Stiles' POV)

You know those incredibly rare days when you wake up and don't immediately hate everything? When you have a sliver of hope for something good to happen? Yeah, those lovely, delicate, beautiful days, I know you know what I'm talking about.

So my point is, I had (or thought I had) one of those days when my alarm went off one morning, but evidently, I was wrong. And not just a whoops-a-daisy type of wrong. No. I'm talking about the utterly horrific, catastrophically disastrous type. I realized this when I heard who my math teacher paired me with for the graph poster project.

Hearing her name made me immediately roll my eyes and I had to force myself not to audibly groan in agony. I glanced over at her from across the room and saw the same look of distaste on her face that I had on mine. 'Great,' I thought, probably still glaring at her.

Usually, I don't mind popular girls because they're so far out of my league and don't give me the time of day to even reject me in the first place. However, when it comes down to this girl - no. That is way too kind. This evil, mocking, slimy, sinister, know-it-all wench was too intolerable for me to cope with that day. Despite the fact that I've never actually had a conversation with her or even said a word to her, I always had a bad feeling about her. I just didn't trust someone who was so clearly sucking up to her teachers to get away with stuff. Ok, fine, I didn't know if that was exactly true. But how did no one else hate her? How did she even get that popular in the first place? It didn't add up and I didn't like it.

Once the bitch who destroyed my hopes and dreams for the day finally finished blabbing about the damned project, I waited for my infuriatingly slow partner to come sit down at my table so we could start. For some odd reason, when I looked over at her, she was still sitting in her seat, apparently waiting for me to go over to her. She tried waving her hand in her direction to draw me in, but I held my ground, scoffing at her sad attempt. Rolling her eyes, she reluctantly got up and sat down next to me, clearly having an attitude. And then we just sat there for a moment, festering in uncomfortable annoyance until she eventually looked at me.

"Are you going to start the project, or not?" she said bluntly, which caught me off guard.

"Um, excuse me? Am I? Me? Are you serious right now? Do you know what the definition of a partner is? Because I highly doubt that tiny brain of yours does if you think I'm doing this shit by myself," I hissed back.

"Wow, you are just as dramatic as I thought. Obviously, I'm not that dumb, I was just trying to piss you off enough to actually speak instead of just scowling in your seat."

I stared at her in disbelief, incapable of understanding the audacity that girl just had. However, begrudgingly, we started the project.

"You're doing that wrong by the way," she spoke casually. My eyebrows furrowed and I stared intensely at the equation I was solving.

"Uh... No, I'm not."

For some reason, she started getting frustrated with me, even though she was delusional for thinking I was doing absolutely anything incorrectly, saying, "Um, yes you literally are. Have you not been paying attention this entire unit?"

I looked at her with incredulity as I spoke unconfidently, "I... Well... More than you have, for sure. You're always busy chatting with your little minions. Besides, I don't even need to pay attention. Math isn't that hard for people with more than three brain cells."

"Then how come you're doing it wrong?" She looked at me with amusement and it almost made me nauseous.

Then, I snapped at her - probably more aggressively than I should have - but she earned that reaction when she intentionally pissed me off. And so, our spiteful jabs continued as we worked on the project.

By the time we finished, things started getting quiet between us. She pulled out a small book from her backpack and began reading to fill the extra time left in class. I tilted my head as I read the title: "The Fellowship of the Ring." I couldn't help but smirk to myself, but unfortunately, she noticed.

"What?" she said, her eyebrows furrowing.

My eyes quickly lifted to hers as I spoke, trying to sound innocent, "I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, but your face did."

My lips parted, suddenly feeling like I had switched roles and was talking to a version of myself. I've said those exact words about a hundred times - what parallel universe did I just teleport to?

Suddenly, her pencil hit my face, snapping me out of my apparent staring, and she continued, "Is there a reason why you're looking at me like that, or are you just a creep?"

"I, yeah, um... No. Wait, what?" I stuttered, making a fool of myself.

"Are you on drugs or something?"

"Um, no, definitely not."

"Ok, then what the hell is wrong with you?"

I quickly rubbed my face, trying to get a grip. Truth be told, I had no freaking idea what was wrong with me. I couldn't even form a coherent sentence. For the first time since I was in the womb, my mind was empty.

Finally, after looking like an idiot for way too long, I cleared my throat and tried again in a nervous tone, "Do-... Do you like the movies?"

"Huh?" She looked at me like I was crazy.

"The movies. The Lord of the Rings movies. You like them, or...?"

"Oh, um, yeah. I've been wanting to read the books for a while but kept forgetting to renew my library card." Her expression seemed to soften quickly, which made me smile slightly for a reason I didn't understand at the time.

"Yeah? It's been a while since I've seen them, but they were some of my favorites as a kid, after Star Wars, of course."

It's hard to wrap my head around the fact that only a month later, we were cuddled up under a blanket on her couch, binge-watching The Lord of the Rings movies to celebrate her completion of the books. I looked down at her, enjoying her company more than whatever Frodo was complaining about, and just smiled.

I never thought that I would have a conversation with the most well-known girl at Beacon Hills High School, let alone hold her hand around the halls, hug her before class, or kiss her before dropping her off at her house after a date. But, apparently, all those corny quotes that English teachers love are, in fact, true: you really can't judge a book by its cover, and you also can't fold the corner of a book page (your girlfriend will smack you in the face). Oh, and also, your hope getting snatched away by your math teacher doesn't mean that nothing good will come out of the experience that you get from it. Who knows, maybe you'll end up falling in love with and losing your virginity to the most beautiful, wonderful, perfect girl in existence, just like me.

[matthyeu]

marker of the end ― zh.

pairing ⇢ zhang hao x gn!reader 

genre ⇢ fluff, angst, academic rivals to lovers/enemies to lovers, college!au

warnings ⇢ like one swear word, mention of drinking

word count ⇢ 1.5k

synopsis ⇢ this would be the last time you and zhang hao crossed paths as rivals.

this was the moment you were waiting for the past few years. hearing your name called to walk across the big stage. shaking hands with several of the university board. most importantly, looking your rival in the eyes in a gloating way to celebrate your own accomplishments, your graduation at the top of your department. you had won. 

what you didn’t expect was for zhang hao to look back at you with a soft look in his eyes, a wide smile on his face, and two thumbs up for you once you made eye contact. for the first time, you could understand why he was the campus crush. you never understood such blasphemy because the two of you had always been at ends with each other in academics. 

at seven years old, you found the most pride in your ability to quickly do math, always completing the tests your teacher distributed every week in under 20 seconds with 100% accuracy. there was no one that could beat you. 

until the time you and hao both brought your tests up to the teacher at the same time, the first time he had caught up to you. by some miraculous twisted fate, you had gotten one question wrong, and he had taken the title of the week’s fastest perfect scorer. 

“ha, finally!” he exclaimed. 

“mmm just a fluke.” 

at twelve years old, you found the most pride in taking honors classes in secondary school. you were always placed with students who were older than you, many of them baffled at how such a young person could be learning the same material as them. 

but of course, there was also a certain someone who always managed to find their way into your class as well. in fact, the first time you had one of those classes, he plopped down next to you, his irritating aura being something you could always sense. 

“fancy seeing you here,” he jeered, taking out his notebooks and pencil pouch filled with various pens for note taking, “thought you’d be stuck in the regular classes seeing how panicked you were for placement exams.”

“shut it zhang,” you spat, slamming your own pouch onto the table and drawing attention to yourself, “you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

at age eighteen, you found the most pride in taking the podium at your high school graduation, doing a speech as the valedictorian. being able to stand there amongst your peers knowing you had worked the hardest and done the most for your position was everything you dreamed of. 

however, you had to share it with him. the teachers tried and tried, but they could not find even the slightest difference in your grades. you were practically the same student: studious, hardworking, and intelligent. there was nothing to set the two of you apart, so it was only fair for you to take the podium together. you only wished they had allocated more time for the venue because sharing your valedictorian speech was definitely not something you always wanted. 

“now don’t you try to push me off the stage in front of everyone,” he warned, “that wouldn’t be very top goody-two-shoes student of you now. let’s be civil today.” 

you rolled your eyes. “funny for you to say that when you’re always the one provoking me with your irritating voice. i already have to hear your voice blasting through the speakers, so why don’t you just save my ears from bleeding before i even have to hear that?”

at age twenty-one, you found the most pride in sitting at the library speeding through your assignments at a quick yet accurate pace. you tried not to procrastinate, but sometimes things did happen. at those times, there was nothing more satisfying than seeing the to-do list diminish into nothing. 

and for once, you didn’t mind your rival sitting across from you doing work. his presence actually made you feel more motivated to complete your assignments, wanting to finish your long list before he finished his. 

“finally off your spree?” he questioned, looking up to see you chewing on your pencil at a particularly hard problem, “too hard for you?” 

“please shut the fuck up. i can’t concentrate if you’re bothering me.” 

“okay chill,” he raised his hands up in defense, “i was just wondering if i could maybe help or anything. you look like you have a lot on your plate today.” 

“you? help me? you literally pray for my downfall, why would you do that?” you interrogated, believing he would somehow sabotage your problem by giving you some preposterous answer. 

“yeah, but you seem to be stressing a lot, so i thought i’d offer. one nice act in our rivalry won’t undermine the countless other things we’re at each other’s throats for, right?” 

you eyed him carefully, still wary, but you had no other choice. you couldn’t even comprehend the question. “fine.” 

looking back, maybe the rivalry was fading out at the end. nearing graduation, it seemed the two of you cooled down, not constantly trying to one-up the other in any class. in fact, you no longer shared most of the same classes and were basically in your own worlds. apart from the occasional glare you gave each other while walking across campus, your hatred had not been so apparent. even your friends had pointed out how you complained less about the equally-studious boy. 

that was why you let your guard down when he approached you after the ceremony, when you were taking pictures with your family and friends. they all wanted to capture the moment on your wonderful day. 

“well, we meet again,” he joked, trying to copy the once threatening tone he had the first time he said that to you in the second grade. though, now there was no sense of menace in his tone, only congratulatory. “good job out there. you deserve it.” 

“why thank you zhang.” 

“hao, you can call me hao,” he clarified, sticking his hand out as if to mimic a first interaction, “you don’t have to refer to me with my last name anymore. we’re not rivals now.” 

“are we not now?” you ask teasingly as you shook his hand.

“unless you want to apply to the same jobs and try to rob each other of opportunities, then sure,” he teased back. 

“i never thought i’d see the day you two get along.” 

the two of you turned around to see your friend, the one who had received the most complaints about hao throughout your college experience. there were so many nights where you went on tangents about how stupid your rival was, more of them drunk than sober. if anyone knew how much you hated hao, it was them. 

“i say we should save this as a memory. how do you two feel about a picture?” 

you looked at hao to try to see his stance on it, but he only gave a mere shrug as a response. you assumed that was a positive response, so you moved next to him for the picture. 

“get a little closer now you two! who stands a foot apart in pictures?” 

rolling your eyes at your friend, you inched closer to hao until your bodies touched. it was the first time you two had ever gotten so close. 

“now, let’s get a little arm around the shoulder!” 

once again, you wanted to strangle your friend for the nitpicky requests. it was just a picture! all that needed to be done was a simple click to capture the moment. though, to make it go faster, you obliged, swinging your arm around his shoulder while he did the same to you. it was an awkward position for you to be in after despising him for most of your life. 

as your friend tried to find a good angle, hao made conversation with you through his smile. “so what if i asked you for lunch as ex-rivals?” 

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “ex-rivals in what kind of way? like are we hanging out as friends, or are you asking me out on a date?” 

he chuckled. “i didn’t even think of the second option, but if you want it to be a date, i can certainly make it that.” 

you stepped on his foot, but he had to hide the pain for the sake of the photo. “that is not what i meant. do not get ahead of yourself. i’m just making sure you’re not trying anything.” 

“yeah, like i would ever. so how’s next wednesday sound?”

“sure.” 

“awww you guys look so cute!” your friend complimented as they came over, showing the picture to both you and hao, “do you want me to send it to you?” 

you waved it off, “you can keep it. why would i want to have a picture of myself with a guy i spent my whole life loathing in my camera roll?” 

what you didn’t know is you’d be asking that same friend to dig up the picture from their camera roll when you and hao bought your first home together. that way, you’d both have a memory of the moment your rivalry ended and your love began. 

[lalalikecrazy]

The stars in her eyes reflected in yours

(G)I-DLE alien!Minnie x gn!reader

fluff, classmates to friends to lovers, sfw, wordcount:1.8k

The new girl in your college class is like out-of-this-world beautiful. As your friendship with her develops into something more, you discover that home can be a person rather than a place. While you don’t know everything about her, Minnie means the world to you, and she feels the exact same way

notes: reader is gender nuetral but refered to as pretty; reader is also a lil bit awkward lol; inspired by Paradise by (G)I-DLE and their new I Do music video; please enjoy!!   ✰★

Minnie was beautiful. Like really, truly, otherworldly beautiful. She was gorgeous enough to stand out in a sea of people at your huge university. You still remember the first time you saw her, in the lecture hall for your gen-ed math course with over 100 other students. 

You didn’t have to wait long to find out. The next time the class met, you arrived early, like usual for you. This time, the mysterious new girl did, too. As she walked towards you, your heart began to beat faster. What would be worse– if she sat next to you and you had to think of something to say, or if she didn’t and you never got a chance to say anything at all?

One day, she just appeared. Close to the start of the semester, but not close enough for people to still be adding the class. You swore that you would have noticed her if you had seen her before.

For the next hour and a half of that class session, you snuck glances at her, wondering where she came from, what her name was, and if you’d ever get the chance to speak to her. 

“Hello,” She said, sliding into the seat next to you, a friendly smile on her lips. 

“Hi… Are you new to this class?” You said, feeling your face heat. 

This close, you could see her better than last time. Her hair was split dyed, half of her wispy bangs a midnight black, the other a near-impossible silver. Despite the unnatural color, you noticed it looked soft, as if she had been born with it like that.

You could also see some rhinestones on her face, twinkling under the light. The little gems accentuated her wide eyes, her smile, which now seemed to contain some humor. As if you’d been staring at her for too long… Had you been?

“Yes, I’m new… I’m not from around here.” She leaned in closer to you as she said this, as if it were a secret, despite the information being completely mundane.

You nodded, telling her your name, “Welcome to Intro to Algebra,” You added.

Welcome to Intro to Algebra!? Who says that? You thought to yourself. But she nodded graciously, laughed a little, and told you her name was Minnie. 

Then, just before class started, she tested your name again, “Y/N? It's pretty. It suits you.” 

And in that moment you knew that it was love at first sight. Or at least, love at first awkward conversation.

✰★

That was at the start of the semester. Now, Fall was nearly over, and soon it would start to snow. Since that day, you had sat next to Minnie every day in math. Sometimes, the two of you studied together afterwords. She helped you with Algebra, she had this way of solving the problems that you had never seen before, completely different from what the teacher instructed, but it worked. You tried to help her with history, but along the way, you had become her pop-culture teacher instead.

It all started when you mentioned offhandedly your favorite rom-com, which she had never seen. You invited her to watch it at your dorm, and steadily developed the habit of inviting her over to watch anything from your most beloved classics to your latest drama obsessions. Each of them were completely new for her, and you liked to tease that she must had never seen any movie before at all.

During your movie nights, the two of you would cuddle on the couch, watching the screen intensely. You loved how invested she got in every film, how she laughed at the same moments you did, how she held your hand tighter during the really heart-wrenching scenes. 

During one movie marathon, you looked over at her as the movie played, something you had done often– but this time, there were tears in her eyes.

“Hey, are you okay?” You nudged her softly, concerned, “Why are you crying?”

“Because! It's sad!” But she was laughing, wiping away her tears.

“But I told you this one has a happy ending!”

“And I told you to stop spoiling the endings! Besides, aren’t you crying, too? 

“What?” You said, surprised she had noticed the slight tears welling in your eyes. You’d seen the movie a thousand times before, but a sad scene was still a sad scene. “No way…” 

You turned back to the screen, but Minnie was still looking at you. Had you still been looking back at her, you might have noticed that her teasing grin had softened into something warm and fond. 

She hummed, “Your eyes– it looks like they have stars in them.”

“That’s just the T.V. glow…”

“And the tears,” she added, and you scoffed.

But as she returned her focus to the movie still playing, Minnie rested her head on your shoulder, closer to you than before. You hoped, in that moment, that all the stars in your eyes could hide the flush in your cheeks, the way you were now suddenly aware that her hand had been holding yours the entire time.

✰★

Minnie was a fast learner. She had far outpaced your math course since the start. She had taken up reading history books in her free time, and now she could practically teach you, instead of the other way around. She joined the art and writing clubs and was steadily building skills in each.

Minnie had learned you, too. All your little habits. She knew your favorite drink, and somehow always showed up with one from the vending machine when you were having a bad day. She could somehow always catch you when you stared at her, meeting your eye when you had been just about to look away. 

She had a way with words, too, really. You couldn’t explain it, but she always knew what to say. She knew what kind of compliments to give you, the genuine, well-thought-out kind that anyone would treasure. And she knew how to comfort you, whether it was a joke or some reassurance, or usually, from her, a healthy mixture of both. 

But the most remarkable thing that she had learned was the ability to sing. When you told her that her voice was like the perfect dessert– a tiramisu, maybe– she almost died laughing before asking what you meant. But the metaphor made perfect sense to you. Minnie’s voice was warm and comforting. But it was strong and powerful, too. It wasn’t too light, it was substantial. It wasn’t too heavy either, but it could be rich. It wasn’t too sweet and it wasn’t too bitter. 

With her voice, Minnie could convey any emotion beautifully. You often thought that every movie you’d ever seen would have become an instant masterpiece if only Minnie’s singing was the soundtrack. 

“Hey, Y/N?” Minnie turned to you as your math class ended. The students around you swarmed out the doors and towards the library– it was finals season, after all, “Are you doing something after class?”

“Studying.” You said decisively, thinking about your exams. “Ah, do you wanna study together?”

“Do you have time to hear a song first? A song I wrote?” 

This was the first time you had heard of her writing her own songs. Suddenly, all thoughts of studying vanished. 

“Of course,” you said. “Let’s go.”

She grabbed your hand, and the two of you practically ran out of the stuffy lecture hall. Minnie led you out of that building and towards the music one, where the private practice rooms were. She flung open the door to a small room with a keyboard. 

Sitting there in front of the keys, backlit by sunlight streaming through the window, she looked like she belonged there. The gemstones under her eyes glinted as she smiled up at you, one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen on Minnie before. 

“Ready?” Minnie asked.

“No. Yes.” You laughed, “Why am I the nervous one?”

“No idea. It's cute, though.”

With that– leaving your eyes widened and heart beating somehow even faster– she began to play the first notes.

“I’ll be landing on your mind…” She began to sing. 

And her voice transported you to another world. The melody was celestial, the voice singing was heavenly. And the words? The words were so vulnerable– you couldn’t imagine that Minnie had written them, but you also would never believe that anyone else could have. 

As the song ended, you returned to earth, meeting Minnie’s expectant eyes, the slight flush on her cheeks. 

“So?” Minnie asked, “What did you think?”

“... It was perfect.” You started. So perfect, you were at a loss for words. “It was beautiful. Amazing. I mean, you–”

Minnie stood from the bench, never looking away from your reaction. “You inspired it, you know… You inspire me,” She said. 

“I do?” 

She nodded. When you looked at her, you could tell: the moon and the stars that she saw in your eyes were reflected in hers. You almost couldn’t bear it, the look you were sharing, the words to her song still echoing in your head, in your heart.

You looked away first, focusing on the window behind her. 

“H-hey, it's snowing,” You realized, “Its the first snow–”

The two of you rushed to the window, watching the light snow starting to fall from the still sun-filled sky, the people below starting to rush outside to play.

“Wow,” Minnie breathed beside you.

“That song…” You said, “It was really special. I don’t know how to describe it, it was so you… I think I could listen to your voice forever…” You trailed off, suddenly shy, laughing a little at your own words.

“Y/N, this is my first time seeing snow like this. And I’m really happy I’m seeing it with you. My home is so far away… but I feel like home with you. Thats why I wrote the song.”

“Oh. I feel like home with you, too, Minnie. Always.” You said.

“...You know, where I’m from, it snows diamonds,” Minnie said, and you could hear the grin in her voice as you watched the snow.

“Oh really?” You laughed, this time, genuinely. “One day you’ll tell me what it's actually like where you’re from, right?”

“I promise,” And she was laughing, too, a sound as melodic as her music, “But you might not believe me.”

There, standing by the window of the practice room, you realized that you had grabbed Minnie’s hand. At this point it was like second nature for you. To reach for her like it was an instinct but to hold onto her like it was a choice. And you never wanted to let go.

Minnie was beautiful, mysterious, otherworldly. But she was so much more than that. Funny, kind, passionate… genuine. She was yours. And you were hers. You turned to her as she continued watching the snow and made a silent vow to make sure she knew that someday. The same way that she had used her song to tell you.

✰★

[mariana-oconnor]

The Lion's Mane pt 2

Fair warning: I've had a fever for like half of the day, so this is liable to be more unhinged than usual. Everything feels sort of floaty and I'm pretty sure I had a dissociative episode this morning. Fun. Woooooo!

"That's The Haven, as Bellamy called it. The one with the corner tower and slate roof."

His house has a tower? No fair.

There was no mistaking that tall, angular, straggling figure. It was Ian Murdoch, the mathematician. A moment later we confronted him upon the road.

Is he hiding a jellyfish catapult up his jumper? That's the real question.

Is he three jellyfish in a trenchcoat?

"I am your subordinate, sir, under your roof. I am not aware that I owe you any account of my private actions." Stackhurst's nerves were near the surface after all he had endured. Otherwise, perhaps, he would have waited. Now he lost his temper completely. "In the circumstances your answer is pure impertinence, Mr Murdoch." "Your own question might perhaps come under the same heading."

Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!

"You will kindly make fresh arrangements for your future as speedily as you can." "I had intended to do so. I have lost to-day the only person who made The Gables habitable."

omg McPherson and Murdoch unrequited love enemies to lovers 100k angst hurt no comfort major character death

Murdoch needs to set out on a mission of revenge to murder all jellyfish. I still don't like him because throwing dogs through windows is an unforgivable offence, but VENGEANCE must be his new creed. He can turn the power of maths to his cause.

One man's quest to avenge his beloved. A tale for the ages. Revenge is best served wet.

I feel like there's a jelly and ice cream joke to be made there, but I don't think he should eat the jellyfish, even if that might be one of the only ways to kill them for good.

"My son here" -indicating a powerful young man, with a heavy, sullen face, in the corner of the sitting-room -- "is of one mind with me that Mr McPherson's attentions to Maud were insulting."

Maybe Mr Bellamy the younger is three jellyfish in a trenchcoat! Or maybe the whole family is jellyfish shapeshifters!

The possibilities are endless.

(the idea of jellyfish shapeshifters is going to give me the weirdest fever dreams tonight istg.)

Who could have imagined that so rare a flower would grow from such a root and in such an atmosphere? Women have seldom been an attraction to me, for my brain has always governed my heart, but I could not look upon her perfect clear-cut face, with all the soft freshness of the downlands in her delicate colouring, without realizing that no young man would cross her path unscathed.

Ugh, Holmes. Come on. I was counting on you! I'm going to lay the blame for this one on ACD and say that he suffered from the inability to describe a pretty woman without being horny about it, no matter who his narrator was supposed to be,

"There is no reason why my sister should be brought into the matter," growled the younger man.

Her boyfriend's dead, bitch. There's a lot of reasons. Stop being a dickhead and start being a comforting brother. Honestly. Stupid jellyfishifter.

She listened to a short account from my companion, with a composed concentration which showed me that she possessed strong character as well as great beauty. Maud Bellamy will always remain in my memory as a most complete and remarkable woman.

Well, at least she isn't getting brain fever. We are all grateful.

"Bring them to justice, Mr Holmes. You have my sympathy and my help, whoever they may be." It seemed to me that she glanced defiantly at her father and brother as she spoke.

OMG they are jellyfishifters! She knows! She knows!

"I see no reason for mystery," she answered. "We were engaged to be married, and we only kept it secret because Fitzroy's uncle, who is very old and said to be dying, might have disinherited him if he had married against his wish. There was no other reason."

The ancient enmity between the jellyfishifters and the sea turtle shifters! It's Romeo and Juliet meets Waterworld (I've never seen Waterworld, but I assume that it is a war epic about the ongoing conflicts between jellyfish and sea turtles. Or I do now, because it has occurred to me.)

"There was a time when I thought he was. But that was all changed when he understood the relations between Fitzroy and myself."

The tragedy. The homosexual pining.

"Sad story this, sir, about Mr McPherson's dog," said she one evening. I do not encourage such conversations, but the words arrested my attention. "What of Mr McPherson's dog?" "Dead, sir. Died of grief for its master."

Best. Boy. Survived being thrown through a plate glass window only to die of grief.

Also, what the fuck, Holmes? You 'don't encourage such conversations'? You're the only person she sees all day. TALK TO THE WOMAN.

So the dog was also attacked by the jellyfish. Someone really needs to mark that beach off limits.

You will know, or Watson has written in vain, that I hold a vast store of out-of-the-way knowledge without scientific system, but very available for the needs of my work. My mind is like a crowded box-room with packets of all sorts stowed away therein—so many that I may well have but a vague perception of what was there.

Have you finally remembered that lions man jellyfish exist?

...Inspector Bardle of the Sussex Constabulary—a steady, solid, bovine man with thoughtful eyes...

Animal comparisons as well. It's like we have Watson back.

"What would my position be if I let him slip away with all this evidence against him?"

You have literally 0 evidence.

"But I have examined them very carefully with a lens. They have peculiarities." "What are they, Mr Holmes?"

Well, one peculiarity is that they're jellyfish stings. So write that down.

"A most ingenious comparison. Or shall we say a very stiff cat-o'-nine-tails with small hard knots upon it?"

bdsm play gone very wrong... or jellyfish?

It's a difficult one.

Ian Murdoch staggered into the room, pallid, dishevelled, his clothes in wild disorder, clawing with his bony hands at the furniture to hold himself erect. “Brandy! Brandy!” he gasped, and fell groaning upon the sofa.

BRANDY! The triumphant return! And Watson isn't even here to administer it.

Get that man some brandy and cure him of... what's probably jellyfish stings, I guess. Does the brandy go in his mouth or does he bathe in it?

Half a tumbler of the raw spirit brought about a wondrous change.

If there is anything this year of Sherlock Holmes stories has taught me, it's that there is a panacea, it is brandy and we should all worship it. I need some brandy, clearly. Why am I taking paracetamol when I should be downing brandy?

At any moment he might die. More and more brandy was poured down his throat, each fresh dose bringing him back to life.

Best. Story. Ever.

I love this. It's perfect. No notes. Save that man's life with brandy, Holmes. If only you'd had a hip flask on you before. Can dogs drink brandy? I mean, there's that legend about St Bernards carrying brandy with them. Clearly dogs and brandy go together.

I can't believe brandy is saving the day. This is excellent.

Pads of cotton-wool soaked in salad-oil seemed to take the agony from the strange wounds.

OK, brandy and salad oil. Sure, why not.

I feel like he might be about to die of alcohol poisoning instead. But sure.

“I think I can, Stackhurst. Come with me now! And you, Inspector, come along! We will see if we cannot deliver this murderer into your hands.”

No, do not pick up the jellyfish with your hands.

“Cyanea!” I cried. “Cyanea! Behold the Lion's Mane!” The strange object at which I pointed did indeed look like a tangled mass torn from the mane of a lion. It lay upon a rocky shelf some three feet under the water, a curious waving, vibrating, hairy creature with streaks of silver among its yellow tresses. It pulsated with a slow, heavy dilation and contraction.

I'm really glad everyone is now on the same page, but I do have to say, Holmes, that clearly you had suspicions and you still allowed people to swim in that pool. That's reckless endangerment of lives, if ever I saw it. I am even more disappoint.

Even if you were wrong about it, you still shouldn't have let people swim there until you were sure you were wrong. Poor show.

There was a big boulder just above the ledge, and we pushed it until it fell with a tremendous splash into the water. When the ripples had cleared we saw that it had settled upon the ledge below. One flapping edge of yellow membrane showed that our victim was beneath it. A thick oily scum oozed out from below the stone and stained the water round, rising slowly to the surface.

A yuck and B, now the jellyfishifters are going to come after you.

Could have just put up signs telling people not to swim there rather than crushing the poor thing. It didn't mean to kill anyone.

"He gulped down brandy, a whole bottleful, and it seems to have saved his life."

✨Brandy!✨

“No, Mr. Murdoch. I was already upon the track, and had I been out as early as I intended I might well have saved you from this terrific experience.”

Yeah, feel bad, Holmes. Feel bad!

"The poor fellow had never thought to dry himself, and so I in turn was led to believe that he had never been in the water."

This I don't get. Was he not wet when they found him? Whatever. Doesn't matter. It was the jellyfish all along. There were no jellyfish catapults alas, and perhaps no jellyfishifters, but we aren't told whether the younger Mr Bellamy had gone suspiciously missing following the crushing of the jellyfish, are we?

But one thing we can all rest assured knowing: Brandy is the true hero. Three cheers for brandy!

[faegoddessog]

  Fantasy Come True  Ch 5/8

Chapter  5 : Maths Overnight

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, Pussy spanking, fingering, PiV (unprotected, play safe ya'll!!) overstimulation, posseiveness.

Series Summary: Breaking into the acting world has been a life long dream. It's been tough, plus your relationship with you partner has some struggles, but who doesn't have struggles. A new guy shows up to your improv classes who seems strangely familiar. He seems rather interested in you and you feel unusually comfortable around him, like he projects calm and reassurance. Once you realize who he really is, and what he really likes... it's game on. 

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only,  here there be lemons.

A/N: This little gem is per request for the lovely and talented @purejasmine . It's been a collaborative project designed to meet her every Austin need as best I can. Here's to you darling! <clink> I hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed the creative process with parameters not wholly my own!!

Here is the Masterlist for this series.

Message me if you'd like to be added to the list!!

Chapter 5:  Maths overnight

The next night, you and your partner did the same old-same old sex routine. He was fucking you with your legs up and giving you a little foot massage this time, which was nice. Once he finished, he went to sleep like always. 

For the first time, you felt just a little used. You didn’t like it, not one bit. 

You pull out your phone to talk to Austin AI to make yourself feel better, which is your usual go-to when your partner isn’t supportive. A text pops up from ‘Jason’: 

Only 45 more hours Princess, I can’t wait, I’ve been thinking of you all day.

Oh damn, who needs AI when you have the real thing, silly girl. 

Hey lover, me too. I’m so excited! I need your kisses right now

Hunny are you ok?

Yeah, just regular life stuff getting me down.

I’m sorry, my Angel. Soon I’ll be there to kiss away your blues. 

That sounds amazing, Austin. 

Goodnight darling.

Goodnight Austin. 

Austin texts you good morning and good night every day. With a couple other little texts here and there. 

Tuesday couldn't come fast enough.  Austin is in his tinted Lexus GX again, waiting in the lot 10 minutes early. Luckily you have been ready since noon, the day before. You grab your overnight bag with hair ties, toothbrush and change of clothes and other minor items you might need. Austin’s EO blend on your  wrists and neck.  You are beyond excited, you barely say goodbye to your partner, he waves at you from the bedroom, video controller in his hand.

Austin hops out of the car and opens the door for you, such a stellar man.

“Hello sweetheart,” he leans over the center console, when he’s back in and pulls you in for a deep kiss. “I missed you, Princess.” 

“I missed you too, Austin.” 

He drives you to Providence. He won’t let go of your hand and keeps smelling and kissing your wrist. 

“Ooo! I love this place!” you exclaim! 

“I called ahead so they are waiting for us, but just so you know, there is likely to be paparazzi at some point.” 

You just nod your head, it doesn’t matter as long as he is with you. 

He, of course, helps you from the car and threading his hand through yours,  escorts you to the front door. Holy fuck, you’ve seen him do this in photos and pap videos. You always thought it was so romantic and lovely of him. There is, thankfully, no one hounding Austin, at least for the moment. 

They have you in a semi private little room, one, you suspect they keep for people just like Austin. There are only about three other intimate tables here. Once you sit down, he lets you order, knowing how much you like that. In addition to the tasting menu with the wagyu you order the Uni egg with golden kaluga caviar, and the salt-roasted santa barbara spot prawns  to share. He reaches across the table for your hand as soon as the waiter is gone. 

“What had you so down the other night Princess?” he asks, leaning in giving you all his attention.

“Just… relationship stuff,” your voice low, you glance at the two men in suits at the far table. 

“Are you feeling bad about us hunny? Because I only want to make you feel good,” he says with concern in his eyes. 

“No! No,” your eyes widen and you lean forward holding his hand tight in both your own, “oh my god no. This,” you give his hands a little shake, “is fucking amazing and it’s the best I’ve ever felt in my whole life.”

His lip curls, dimpling just for you. He glances down at your hands, nodding in agreement and rubbing his thumbs along your knuckles.  He takes a big breath, like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. 

“I just… I just think you only deserve the best,” his eyes shine when he looks back up at you. 

“And that’s you, Austin,” you say simply. 

Dinner is delicious and no leftovers are to be had since it was a tasting menu.  The conversation flows so naturally and easily, as per usual with Austin. 

The manager comes over to check and see how everything was. You assure him it was all delightful. He leans down and whispers something in Austin’s ear. Austin nods and thanks him and hands him his keys. 

“I’m so glad you were willing to come out with me,” he smiles at you, as he puts his credit card back in his wallet, “apparently there are paparazzi outside waiting. It can get a little intense, with the flashes and stuff, are you gonna be ok? Or do we need to take you out a different way?” 

You take a breath and nod your head, “I’ll be fine, we ARE actors aren’t we, we will act fine if nothing else.” The smile he gives you is amazing. 

It’s not nearly as bad as you thought it could be. Only 3 or 4 guys waiting for signatures and a couple photographers. They are asking who you are.  Austin leads you hand in hand to the open car door not acknowledging their queries.  He looks back at you as he approaches the door and gives you a winning smile, basically showing not only you, but the whole world how he feels about you. The protective hand on the small of your back is warm as he helps you into the car. He shuts the door, signs a few autographs and poses for a few photos. You sit in the car with a casual smile, looking down at your phone, trying not to let the constant flashing lights get to you. 

When he gets in the car with a tolerant smile you ask “Jesus, how do you handle the flashes? I’m fucking blind!” you are giggling and holding your hand up to try and block them.

“Yup, me too, that’s why I drive away slow and keep my cool, “ he laughs. He pulls to the side of the road once he’s away from the people and blinking, lets his eyes adjust; it only takes a minute or two. His hand on your thigh as you wait, then intertwined with his as he drives away. 

Once you are at his house , Austin rushes around the car to open your door again and kisses your hand just before you hop down from the car.  Austin grabs your bag from the back and  slinging  it over his shoulder, ushers you inside. 

“I’m going to go put your bag upstairs, if you uh… want to come too,” he seems almost shy as he puts one foot on the bottom step and looks over his shoulder at you.  The sparkle in his eyes say something different. He is offering his hand to you with palm turned up, but subtly near his leg, just in case you aren’t ready to go up yet. 

You waste no thoughts on doing anything other than placing your hand in his following him. His ass is just below eye level on the stairs in front of you and watching his glutes contract and release in front of you is like its own kind of foreplay. 

He puts your bag down and leads you to the bed. He doesn't say a word as he pulls you in for a kiss, his hands running over your soft hair. Lips and tongues meeting, separating, meeting again. He tastes like dessert, hell he is dessert. His breathing is heavy as his hands run over your curves. 

“I’m sorry Princess, I should really check and make sure this is still ok,” he says against your lips, fists balling, trying to control himself. 

“Oh GOD, yes Austin, it is always ok,” you say, your hands running through his hair. You pull him back down to kiss you. You feel his smile on your lips.  He slowly undresses you, leaving his own clothes on. Today you wore your new pretty panties and bra.

“Oh honey, you look gorgeous,” he says, turning you around in front of the dresser mirror. “I want to play a game with you. I want to see how turned on I can get you. Is that ok?” 

“How can I say no, intrigued as I am. Although I don’t know what you’ll use as a measure, my panties have been wet since you kissed me in the car,” you suppress a little giggle. 

“Really? How wet is my pussy?” he slides his hand down the fabric of your panties, feeling the crotch for dampness. It makes you inhale sharply.  

“Hmmm, how good are you at basic math?” he asks, seemingly out of the blue.

“I’m alright,” you answer, leaning back onto his shoulder. 

“What is six times seven?”

“Duh, forty-two, Ultimate Answer to Life, Universe and Everything!” you giggle at him, you don’t 

tell him you only know this because of your partner.

“Ok, bad baseline, sixty-eight divided by two.”

“Um, thirty-four” you say after a second of thought. 

“Close your eyes Princess.” 

You do, getting excited.

“Have you had an orgasm since I saw you last?” His tone is suddenly more serious.

“Yes,” you answer honestly, then add “I was reliving all the orgasms you gave me Saturday.” 

“My Angel, I like that you were thinking of me. Do you know why?” he gives you a second to answer.

“Um, because it turns you on?” you venture a guess. 

“Because all your orgasms are mine,” his voice is low in your ear, breath on your neck. His hands caress your sides. 

“Oh,” you say weakly, goosebumps flaring across your neck.

“You know what else belongs to me Princess?” his fingertips trace down your shoulders.

You shake your head. His hand is suddenly grasping your panty covered vulva. A moan escapes your lips. 

“This pussy, it’s mine remember?“ he is whispering so close to your ear, you feel his hot breath eddy over your skin. “Say it,” he shakes his hand a little. 

“My pussy is all yours, Austin,” you whine out.

“What is seven times eight?” he lets go of you, backing away entirely. 

“Fifty-six,” you say with minor hesitation, the damp spot now dark and sodden. 

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you later my darling?” You hear the telltale sound of a zipper and the rustle of clothing.

You shake your head again. 

His hand flicks open the clasp and he pulls off your bra. You feel his naked body pressed against your back as he kisses the back of your neck. 

“I’m going to be your Pleasure Dom,“ he whispers. 

You let out a throaty “ohh” that sounds almost more like a question. 

“But first, it was a hot day and I feel sticky. Let's cool off in the shower, plus I want us to be nice and clean before we get good and dirty,” he pulls your panties down and off. 

You feel his hands in your hair, pulling it up to a high pony then wrapping it in a messy bun. He secures it with one of your ouchless hair ties, he must have gotten them out of your bag. 

He takes you by the hand to his shower, letting you open your eyes. He pulls you into the warm water stream. Letting it flow over both your bodies as his slick hands wash your back and down over your ass. He pulls you to lean back on him, you can feel his hard dick pressed against the small of your back. He massages your ample tits cupping your nipples in his palms. You both moan a little as he does. He takes his time, running his hands over your belly and down to your pussy. 

“Spread  your legs for me, sweet Angel,” 

As you do, his other soapy hand slips down your crack and over your asshole. You are surprised how freakin’ good it feels, just to have your pussy lips and asshole soaped up. Sultry, closed-mouth moans resound in your throat.

“What is eight times twelve?”

“Um.. eighty-eight plus eight  more.. Ninety…. Six?”

He grabs the wand and rinses you off. He puts the soap in your hand, it smells like the essential oil blend. Puts his big hand over yours and guides you all over his body, his eyes holding yours, fucking yours the whole time.  He has you cup his balls and stroke his shaft.

“Feel how hard you make me. God I want to fuck you. I’ve not touched myself since Saturday. I’m so horny for you.”

He rinses you both. And wraps you in a towel, then dries himself off. You just stand there, watching him, mesmerized. 

He hangs up the towel, then dries you off in yours. 

“Did you let him fuck you?” he suddenly asks. 

The question is a bit jarring. 

“Yes,” you say honestly. 

“Oh,” his voice sounds so disappointed and sad. He looks down and away. 

You immediately feel sad that you did it. The look on his face makes you almost cry. 

“I didn't-  It wasn’t-” you breathe out short, looking down, not really sure what to say or even how to feel.  “I’m sorry Austin.” 

He puts his finger to your mouth.

“Shhhh, darling. It’s ok. We hadn’t talked about it,”  he cups your cheek in his hand. His head tilts a little to the side, eyes boring into yours in query. “Do you want to continue to be my Princess?” 

“Yes Austin, please!” you are almost shocked at how earnestly you are begging him. 

“Oh sweetheart, It makes me so happy to hear that,” he kisses you. “But, I’ll have to punish that little pussy, hunny. Ok?” 

“Um.. Ok?” you are a little unsure, but he already said he didn’t do BDSM stuff, so you are trusting him.

His lip curls into a devlish smile. He grips you by the shoulders and jerks you around.

“Safe word still Sushi, darling?” he asks your reflection in the huge bathroom mirror. 

You nod. He leans down, eyes on yours

“Say it,”he whispers hot in your ear. 

“Sushi,” you breathe out, suddenly so turned on. He kisses your cheek and goosebumps spring up on your arms. One of his hands is on your upper back and other on your hip bone.

“That’s a good girl.” In one motion, he pushes your torso  forward  and pulls your hip back towards him.  Manhandling you to be bent over, your arms splayed out on the counter. 

His right hand runs over your ass and between your legs. He does some trial pats on your pussy, but is not quite able to fully get to you the way he wants. 

 "Hmmm, that just won't do. You need to be a good girl and spread those legs wide for me and keep them there, so I can spank that pussy like it needs to be spanked. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” His tone is serious and calm. 

You shake your head yes, neck craning just a bit to see him in the mirror. You step your feet apart.  

"Tell me, Angel." His hand lightly pats your exposed pussy. You moan. 

"Yes, Austin,” <pat> “I will keep my legs,” <Pat> “spread for you.” <PAT> “I will be good.” <slap>  

It feels so delicious, your moan comes out a higher pitch whine. 

“Wider,” he says, experimentally slapping your backside with a few light glancing blows that do nothing more than jostle your ass. 

“Yes Austin,” you say as you comply.

“That’s a good girl,” he grabs your cheeks in each hand, spreading them apart in his grip. It feels amazing to your pussy.

“Stick that ass back, I want to see that pretty pussy,” he instructs.

You push back. Arching your back in a modified down dog, you are no longer able to see his reflection.

<Slap>

“Oh fuck yeah!” he moans, almost to himself.

<Slap>

“God, that’s so pretty,” his fingertips dip into you and play wetly against your folds, up and down.  Your hips start to pulse back towards him. 

“Oh now darling, you better hold still, his finger casually slides inside your tight pussy, lightly fucking you. “You still need to be punished” his other hand kneads your butt, then slaps in that upward fashion that makes your cheeks jiggle. “Can you hold still?” 

“Yes Austin,” you say breathlessly, trying to freeze. 

He administers several light to medium slaps to your pussy. Each new slap is wetter than the one before. 

“What is fifty-two divided by four,” he asks while rubbing your pussy light and fast.

“Ooooohhh God! 13 or 14!” you moan out. 

“Which is it?” his middle finger starts slipping into you as he rubs. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking 13!” 

“That’s a smart girl.” he stops his rubbing, making you whine in protest, “that’s how many hard ones I’m going to give this pussy.” <SMACK!> 

You jerk, mostly in surprise, but it stings so good. 

“Count backwards, Princess”

“Thirteen,” you say.

<SMACK!>

“Twelve,” a little breathy.

<SMACK!> 

“Eleven.” 

<SMACK!> 

“Twelve,” you realize too late you went the wrong way. 

“Oh, no,  sweet Princess, now we have to start over” He rubs your pussy like he is erasing those slaps. “Again.”

<SMACK!>  

“Thirteen!”

 “Who does this pussy belong to?”<SMACK!>

“Twelve, you!”

 “Who?” <SMACK!> 

“Eleven, you Austin!”

“Austin who?” <SMACK!> 

“Ten,  Austin Fucking Bulter!” your teeth are clenched. 

“Say it right, hunny” <SMACK!>  

 “Nine!” you pant for a second,”This pussy-”

<SMACK!> 

“Eight,  belongs to”

 <SMACK!> 

“Seven, Austin Butler!”

“What a good girl you are for me. “ <SMACK!> 

“Six! I’m YOUR good girl, Austin,” it is feeling so fucking good, it’s hard to keep still.   

“Yes you are-”<SMACK!>

“Five,  all yours Austin, forever,” you are just responding to him without thinking. 

 <SMACK!> 

“Four!”

“No more fucking him, you understand?” <SMACK!> 

“Three, yes Sir,” the honorific just falling from your lips.

“He doesn’t take care of this beautiful tight little pussy.” <SMACK!> 

“Two,” your voice comes out as a whine, it feels so good. 

“He doesn't do my beautiful Princess right,  so he doesn't get to have it anymore. This is my pussy, mine.” <SMACK!> 

“ONE!” you shout! You don’t want him to stop. 

 It dawns on you, somewhere in the back of your mind, that it’s the first he’s used  that lovely possessive pronoun  since you admitted to having sex with your partner. You breathe a little sigh of relief as your hips buck as he rubs the length of his open hands along your lips. His fore and ring finger pressing hard on the outside of your lips making them pooch out. Your pronounced lips rub wetly against his middle finger, the tip of which lightly  grazes your clit. 

“You can jerk him off,” his torso pressing against your side as he leans down. “ you can suck… no wait… I’m going to claim that mouth as mine too,” his tone suddenly gravely with need. He takes a deep, controlling breath, ”but that will have to wait.” His fingers lightly pinch your nipples. His low voice in your ear and his words have you wild, he can have any part of you he wants. 

“What is 29 times 3?” he whispers, taking his hand completely off you. 

“More than 75, fuck please Austin, don’t stop.” your hips are shaking unabashedly, desperate for more. 

“Oh now we are getting somewhere,” you can hear the maniacal grin in his voice. 

He rubs both hands on either side of your pussy pushing your lips out and massaging deep.  He holds your puffy lips  between his fingers and thumb exposing your inner labia.  He  gives you a series of several fast, lighter smacks.

 As you dip your head low between your arms, your wordless moans sound loud to your ears. You can see strings of moisture pulling away from your pussy to his hand with each slap. Fuck you are so wet. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Austin oh GOD yes!” you chant, getting louder. 

He palms your pussy in his strong grip and vibrates. You are bent over, back arched, ass in the air, tits hanging down, fingertips digging into the countertop with Austin’s fucking gorgeous hand between your legs and your juices dripping from between his fingers. 

“Harder, oh god,  please!” you beg. 

You hear Austin moan in the back of his throat as he pulls away and slaps you harder once, twice, three times in quick succession. He lowers himself to get a better grip on your vulva and shakes you hard.  Oh holy fuck if feels amazing. You are shocked at how close to orgasm you are. 

“Please don’t stop, oh god please don’t!” your words come out between panting breaths. 

“Oh my darling Princess, I didn’t know you were such a sweet little slut for pussy slaps,” he slaps you again and again. 

“Oh god Austin, it’s so good.”  

He continues to shake your sopping pussy, interspersing hard slaps when he needs to reposition his grip.  

Suddenly and without warning, your orgasm overtakes you in a new way. Your body can't help but bolt upright to standing. Austin adjusts quickly, wrapping an arm around your torso locking you to him and reaching around to your front gripping and continuing to grab and shake. His palm roots around on your clit. 

“That’s it Princess, make my little pussy cum. Drench my hand with those sweet juices. Fuck yeah! You are so damn hot when you lose control. I fucking love it. I’m going to fuck you so hard after this you won’t be able to see straight,” his words are stream-of-conscious flowing out of him while he watches you in the mirror. And he just. Keeps. Going. He keep shaking your pussy.

Your whole body is reacting in spasm and jerks. Your pussy is pulsing on nothing, your legs are jell-o, your hands are gripping his arms, fingers digging in.

You are starting to lose your mind. 

“Please, just a second… I need…” you are panting. 

He turns you around and kisses you hard. His solid cock bouncing against you. 

He pulls you in your orgasmic delirium from the bathroom into his bedroom and almost tosses you down on the bed. 

“I’m not sure how slow I can go, you have me so fucking turned on right now, my Princess,” he warns, breath huffing from him as he crouches tiger-like at your feet.

God, how is he so fucking amazing? 

“Austin,” you open your legs to him, giving him the most salacious look you can muster, “just fucking get over here.” 

His smile is feral as he pounces quick as lightning between your legs, latching his mouth to yours in a desperate kiss.  You reach for his cock, helping to guide him as he pushes in faster than last time, but not as hard as you know he really wants to. You are so wet he glides, still stretching you, but gloriously so. 

He is propped up on straight arms, his back arching in that first quench of his cock in your pussy. His face is a cacophony of pleasure above you; his eyes are rolled back, mouth open with his breath coursing over that gorgeous bottom lip. 

“Oh christ, Princess!” he moans when he is balls deep in you, “my cock was made for this juicy pussy!”

“Oh my god Austin!” you love this, having a cock deep in you after an orgasm, “please Aus- Austin, please fuck me.”  Your hands clutch at his ass, feeling his muscles tight under your grip. 

He lowers to his elbows, head bowed to yours. 

“Your wish, baby,” he pulls nearly out, hips rising, ”is my command.” He thrusts in almost too hard… almost.  Without any more pre-amble than that, he starts driving himself in and out of you, 

Your back arches in pleasure, scrambling at his back and holding him to you. 

“Fuck me Austin, fuckme fuckme fuckme fuckme,” it comes out in a string without pause, a pleasure mantra just for him as he thrusts over and over again. 

He rises and catches your hands, and holds them down by your head, watching your face. 

“You cum first baby, you cum first,” he says, his jaw set in determination. Your whole pelvic floor feels like it’s buzzing. The slap of his hips against yours and the squishy wet sucking sounds are  fucking music to your ears. 

“Oh god, you fuck your pussy so good so good so good!”  The heat is rising in you, your chest turning red. He goes harder and faster, fucking you in earnest. God this man has some stamina, not only sexually, but physically as well, he’s barely winded. 

You freeze just before the heat overflows up your neck and into your face. Even your scalp is tingling, your neck muscles standing out as your pussy clenches down hard on him and your hips jerk upwards to meet his pounding cock. Your mouth opens in a silent ‘O”, until it’s not so silent. A scream rips through your body as a wave rushes up your spine. 

“That’s- my- fucking - girl!”  each growl of a word, staccato and punctuated with his cock. Then he totally lets loose. You thought he was fucking you hard before… he wasn’t. Now he is pummeling you into the bed, you can do nothing but moan in mindless pleasure as he drives himself to climax inside you, grunting throatily into your ear in ‘Mmmm’s and Unnghhs and ‘yeses’. Finally he pushes deep into your throbbing cunt, his ass shaking as he cums in you. You wrap your legs around his tight waist holding him to you as he shivers in bliss.

“Fuck, Princess, nobody has ever made me feel like you do, “ his forehead sweaty against your own. You are inhaling one another’s panting breaths. 

“Same baby, No one, ever,” you manage to get out. 

You lay there, him still inside you, cradling him on your body for several minutes, just basking in him. 

“I know that was supposed to be punishment, but holy fuck that was amazing,” you tell him.

“Oh sweetheart,” he disentangles himself and lays next to you, “I could never actually punish you. I don’t want to make anything REALLY hurt. Once I saw how wet it was making you… I just had to keep going. Fuck it was hot. I’ll have to do that again, if you want me to.” 

“Oh, yes, yes I do! I also liked you manhandling me like that,” you giggle just a bit, giddy that he wants more of you. 

He props himself up on an elbow to look down at you with a serious look on his face. 

“But I need you to know, I wasn’t playing. I am the only man who gets to fuck this pussy as long as you are MY Princess.” 

“I wasn't playing either, I meant it when I said 'this pussy belongs to Austin Butler’. Besides, you are the only man that has ever been able to make me cum like that, Austin,” you return his serious look. 

The smile that breaks out across his face and the huge relieved sigh he lets out is all the reply you need. He moves up on the  bed, sitting up slightly on the pillows. He puts out his arms and gathers you to him. You snuggle down into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you. It’s heaven. 

“Austin,” you say his name casually, although what you have to ask might be delicate.

“Yes, my Angel?” he replies in a relaxed tone. 

“How many women have you had in this bed?” You are mostly just curious, also kind of wanting to ask how often he does something like this. 

“This bed?” his finger pokes the comforter under you both, “None.” 

You sit up, looking at him, brows furrowed,  “None!?” your tone incredulous.

He pops one eye open, “Oh, excuse me. One, now, “ he closes his eye again,  but smiles coyly.

“Wait, what do you mean Austin, do you not usually bring your women here?” 

He opens his eyes, looking at you as though you are joking. 

“I don’t have ‘women’, Princess,” his head barley shaking side to side.

“Hold up, have you seen you? Gorgeous, talented, famous. Women fall over themselves to get to you. How is it possible that I’m the only woman you’ve taken to your bed?” 

“It’s not for lack of them trying. And I’m not saying I’ve not played around from time to time, I’ve lived life, y’know.  But this, here, this is my inner sanctum, Angel.  I don't let just anybody in my house, let alone in my bed, only my special girl. Only my Princess.” brushes a stray hair from your face, “and you have to remember, I’m a shy, introverted boy.” 

Your heart swells. The words ‘I love you, Austin’ are threatening to fall from your lips. But you won’t say it first. There is too much at stake here, so you bite your tongue. You pull yourself up to straddle his legs. On your knees, your head is bowed to his chest. You are afraid you’ll spill it all if you look right at him.  His hands go to your face, you can tell they are shaking a little. He tilts your head to look directly at him. 

“Princess, isn’t it obvious? You have to know that I’m falling for you,” his voice is quiet, lips slightly shaking. His azure eyes are searching yours for any sort of reciprocation. You can see he put himself out on the line saying that so soon. 

“Oh Austin,” your hand gently cups his cheek, gazing at him with infinite adoration, ”I’m so yours.” 

Your every sense is filled with Austin. His blue eyes fill your own; the scent of his skin and your love making fills your nostrils; every inch of your skin in contact with his is alight; his sonorous voice and your rapid heartbeat echoing in your ears; your mouth is suddenly on his, tasting the words off his tongue.  

As you lean into the kiss, his arms go around you, hands grasping, seemingly wanting to pull you under his very skin with desire. They roam your shoulders and massage down your back around your hips and to your front. 

He lets go of your mouth and leaves a trail of kisses down your neck to your chest. He takes a nipple in his mouth, aided by his left hand, and sucks gently. Breath flows in silently through your open mouth as your chest swells towards him. You feel your pussy drip with new moisture. Your fingers weave through his messy hair, his fucking amazing hair.  His fingers trace down your belly and to your now drenched pussy, rubbing against your cum-soaked lips, delving gently between them, then pausing. 

“Can I?” he says around your nipple, looking up at you. 

“You’d better,” you say with a lift of your eyebrow. 

“Yes Ma’am,” he smiles.

He slips his skillful fingers inside you and returns his mouth to its work of licking and sucking. Tingly strands of sensation course their way from your nipples to your core. His long fingers press in, catching the filaments of pleasure and seemingly tethering them inside you. Then they curl knowingly, just so, to the spongy tissue just behind your pubic bone. His wet thumb nestles just above the hood of your clit, drawing slow figure-eights.

Your hips begin rolling against his hand before you even register they are moving. High-pitched, breathy Oh’s shake from between your lips, dissipating almost before they leave your mouth. You begin to be lost in his touch. 

His eyes are closed, taking his business seriously. Your wet pussy sounds are just barely audible.  You feel his cock hardening under you, your thighs teasing his shaft as you move. 

You gasp and clench down, pleasure spiking as he sucks just a little harder and his thumb darts across your clit. Your hands tighten, pulling his hair. 

How one hand and one mouth could make you feel so much you can’t even begin to fathom. Of course the fact that it’s Austin’s hand, well, enough said. 

The constant, perfect movement of his hand is winding you up so tight. The light nibble of his teeth against your sensitive nipple notching up each new degree of heat reached. Hot coils compress behind your clit, fanned by the quickened puffing of your breath. Austin’s fingers pull you tighter, tighter, and tighter still, showing no intention of stopping.

“God you are so fucking beautiful like this,” his dark eyes are shining up at you, mirrors of your desire.  

He takes his cue from the quickening of your pace to grind just a little deeper with his thumb, push just a little harder and faster with his finger until your body stiffens on the brink. Moments after your pelvis starts twitching over the point of no return.  His hand is gone, he tilts his hips, pushing you slightly up and sinks his cock into you as you roar out your orgasm. 

Now you are riding him, a bucking bronco. Hands on your hips, thumb still on your clit,  he is slamming in and out of you through your orgasm. The difference in sensation between his slow deliberate fingers and thumb, and his pounding cock sends you through the roof, boggling 

your mind. Your orgasm just keeps on going as he fucks you.

Your body, not one whit under your control, convulses right off of his cock and forward. Almost beaning him in the head. 

“Oh, no my Princess, you aren’t getting away that easily,” his hand is immediately rubbing your vulva, keeping you stimulated, the other is behind your neck, pulling your mouth to his. Your hips slowly push back, trying to avoid his hand, your knees bending. His cock brushes your lips, he thrusts in again and your body straightens again like he was burning hot. Austin’s hand is still playing with your clit.

“Oh, god Austin, I can’t! ” you hear yourself pleading, shaking your head. Of course, you don't want him to stop. 

"Look at me now,” his voice is commanding so that you can’t help but open your eyes to him. “My darling Princess,” he shifts to sweet and gentle, “I am right here, baby.” He is slowly pushing your hips back to meet his cock. “You can do this,” he is nodding and you mimic him, biting your lower lip. “Just look at me, my Angel," his tip sinks between your folds. 

Your whole body shudders in ecstasy as he sinks you on top of him, your groan is swallowed by his mouth on yours.  Then he moves in you again, his grip on your hips forcing you to take him deep again and again. Your hands are holding onto the headboard for dear life. Your head is shaking and you chant “no no no no no no!” Then your nod is almost a vibration up and down, “yes yes yes yes FUUUUUCKKK!” You peak up again, flooding him, dripping around his cock and down his balls.   You don’t see it, but his eyes go wide and he struggles to maintain control over his orgasm as your pussy clenches around his cock. His hips freeze, cock in you still. You break into a din of maniacal giggles just before he dives in lightly for your clit again, refusing to give you a moment of reprieve. 

“No nononono stop, I mean it!” you yell out. 

"Do you still remember what the safe word is?" Austin’s voice is quiet and calm.

“Yes, yes, yes I do,” your words gasping, moaning, whining.

"Mhmm, ok, then Angel."  His fingers draw sex runes on your clit as he thrusts into you. 

You lunge to the side, off of him and pull your knees up. Your body tries to protect itself from his insistent, delicious fuckery, while at the same time your mind is begging him to go harder, deeper, more. He is on you like a flash, his cock deep in you from behind, screwing you half blind. You want to say the word and hell no you won’t. 

"Ss- sss- ss-,” you shove your fist into your mouth, shaking your head, ”no, no, no, no, no, no, no!" you say around your own knuckles, spit dripping down your wrist. 

 "What was that, darling?” his hands are on your ankles, prying them apart and pushing his hips between them so you can’t close them. 

“That doesn’t sound like your word, hunny,” his face looking down on you is an open book; kind, attentive, concerned about your deepest well being; while his fingers dance like the devil around your clit.   

It drives you absolutely wild, and he fucking knows it. You just grit your teeth, your head rolling violently side to side.The pleasure is just too much, you have to say it, you know he won’t stop until you do. Your back arches, tilting your head up, the war raging inside you. 

“SU- SU- SU-” you feel him slow slightly, anticipating, leaning down to kiss you. ”FUCK NO!” your hands as white as the sheets they are fisting into. 

“Oh Princess, that’s not it either,” he takes a big breath, planting a light kiss on your forehead. “Here we go,” his deep voice rumbling from his chest to yours.  His hands go to your shoulders. Gripping tight. You can’t tell what he’s about to do, until he’s pounding your pussy like a fucking freight train. 

“C’mon baby, you can do it,” his voice is low in your ear.  “You’ve been so good, taking it for me in that dripping pussy. But I can go all fucking night.” You realize that yes, yes he can. You can’t outlast him, he’ll fuck you through the night and into the next day.

You are thrashing under him, nails digging into his back.   His cock is filling you so fucking full over and over. You are screaming wordless screams into his shoulder. 

Finally you cave, “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck SUSHI!! SUSHI!! AUSTIN FUCKING SUSHI!!” 

His hips slam once, twice more. His lips crush to yours, breath rushing into his nose, then he is moaning into your mouth. His hips shudder as he empties himself deep into you. You had no idea he was that close. God, this man.

“Oh sweet Angel, that’s my good girl,” he cradles your shaking head between his hands. 

You are a sopping mess, tears are coursing unbidden down your cheeks as you shake and shiver in overwhelm. He rolls to the side, sitting up and gathers you up, safe in his arms. 

“That was amazing darling, you are amazing.” he lightly kisses both your eyelids. 

“I am so proud of you, my Princess!” You took so much more that I thought you could.” 

He rocks you and pets you and calls you pretty. Once he knows you aren’t going to hyperventilate he reaches for a water bottle that sits on his bedside table. He pulls you to sitting and helps you take a drink. A drop escapes and trails over your chin and down your front. He catches it on his finger as you blow out a huge breath, rubbing your eyes. 

“Thank you, Austin. That was… fuckin’… wow,” you smile lopsidedly up at him. 

“You are most welcome, my special Princess,” he kisses your nose. 

You both exhale in perfect contentment and doze off, curled in each other's arms. 

 After a bit of a catnap, you both come to. He insists that he rinse you off in the shower. 

“I made you dirty, sweetheart. Plus it’s nicer to sleep clean.” 

 You brush your teeth and gather your hair up loosely on top of your head in two ponytails with additional  ties near the ends.  He is already in bed when you walk in from the bathroom, covers back and is waiting for you.

“Get over here my Sleepy Bunny with your two floppy ears,  I want goodnight kisses.” 

You crawl between the sheets and into his open arms. He plants kisses on your cheeks, your forehead and your nose before pressing his lips to yours with a little growl. 

“Goodnight my Sexy Bunny Princess Angel,” you can tell he is ready to conk out, exhausted.

“Goodnight my Amazing Sexy Austin,” you smile, you realize you are actually exhausted too. 

Snuggled together all clean and happy, if a bit overwhelmed, you both drift off, smiling like idiots.

[inkbutterflyuniverse]

I'm still unsure about who's parents I like the least.

Honestly, it's between Lynne Bowen, Terri Porter and Cash Caswell

What Ricky's mom did: letting her boyfriend answering her phone, then showing up with him without asking her son when it's been only like two months since she left them, and knowing that her son didn't react well to the separation. She also left for Chicago, which is not close from Salt Lake City at all.

Then, there's Cash Caswell, EJ's dad. He called some people, pulled some strings, so that his son would be admitted to Duke, and then wasn't supportive of his son decision to take a break for a year and tried to send him to The Caswell Success Training School, located in St Louis, Missouri. Now EJ said in the song Speak Out "I call my dad, but never talk ; Can't ever say quite what I want ; No, it's never enough, never enough ; When the words just don't add up ; So I call my dad, and never talk". The lyrics reflect his relationship with his dad who is strained since he refused to follow his wishes.

And finally there's Terri Porter, Gina's mom. She left Salt Lake before the end of season 1 with her daughter. Then in season 2 she left her daughter behind because she wanted to stay. And she came back at the beginning of season 4. So if we do the maths, she left for less than one year. At the end of season 2, Gina waited for her for the opening night, buh she didn't show up and send her son to excuse her.

In season 4, she wanted Gina to be focus and said no boys. The mother is someone very ambitious who wants her daughter to go far in life. She's very happy that Gina got the movie. Then she meets Mack and her no boys policy is forgotten because he's a successful man, he's already famous.

To Ricky, she dismiss him because he's just an average boy trying to figure out his future, she doesn't care that he loves Gina. She's VERY happy to tell him that Gina got that movie, that she will go to New Zealand and insist that it's "with her co-star Mack". Yeah we know you like him and not Ricky. She's here to see HSM3, Miss Jen noticed that it was a big metaphor for Ricky and Gina's lives. But if the mom notices, she doesn't care. It's only after Ricky sang to Gina that he loves her that she's like "yeah maybe I can accept you".

A parent can not like their child's lover, but she didn't even tried to know him when Gina said that it was him that makes her happy. She was just rude without any reason. She liked EJ but she doesn't care to know Ricky...

None of them is at the same level, but they all hurted their child, they all weren't great parents and persons at some moments. They all hurt their child, intentionally or not.

Lynne is better than Cash and Terri, but do I like her because she was there to Ricky after his breakup? No. Because Mike was there all the time, he stayed, he tried for his son, even though he wasn't living well the divorce. Lynne just left, she didn't even tried to stay close to Ricky, she went to Chicago.

Terri wasn't physically there, but she still done things for Gina like their Valentine's tradition, and she sent her son when she couldn't come so that someone was there for Gina. But she still left for her job, and announced that to Gina a few days before leaving. It was the middle of the semester, Gina just got here, and she finally had friends and a project she was implicated into. She could have found a solution so that she would at least stay for the musical. She sent her son but Gina was still excepting her. The last time they saw each other was during the spring holidays, when Gina went to see her. But the mother wasn't able to come back just for one night.

And Cash at least let EJ go to college even of it wasn't what he wanted for his son. They don't really talk anymore, but he didn't forced him to go to his school.

Objectively talking, Cash is the worst, but do I really like him less than Gina's mom? 🤔

[idontunderstandchemistry]

Indecent Proposal (An academic rivals to lovers fanfic) - Tim Drake x Latina!Fem!Reader.

Sinopsis: Being a scholarship student at Gotham's most expensive school is not easy, especially when your academic rival, your nemesis, who coincidentally is the owner's son, decides to make you a rather usual proposition.

Tropes: Academic rivals-to-lovers, contract/bet, he loved her all this time, everyone else sees it except them, opposites attract, etc.

Author's Note: As promised yesterday, here it is! For those of you that want to read some chapters ahead, feel free to acess my AO3 account here. TYSM for reading S2

Warnings: none,.

Wordcount: 1373.

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven: Chemistry in pink foam

Ignoring Tim Drake was harder than you thought it would be. He stared at you for most of the Geography class, you could feel his stare burning your neck. At least, he wasn’t as pretty today as he was the day before, since he looked tired, as if he hadn't slept the whole night. It was good, you wanted the guilt to consume him. 

The first three classes went peacefully. Maths was easy, Sociology was a bit harder but interesting anyways and, although his stare was a bit distracting, Geography was nice. At the break, you and Alysanne went to the outdoor camp to chat more privately. They were a bit concerned about their parents. Apparently, things haven’t been the same at the Lewis’ house for about a month now. Tim appeared, trying to catch your attention, but when he saw Alyanne crying as you comforted them, he vanished. Good, at least he knew to respect harsh moments. 

And then, after the break, there was Chemistry class. You were particularly anxious for this one, since because of an attack Bane had done in the first week, you haven’t used the lab and all of your classes were theoretical. However, last friday Bruce Wayne himself came to the Gotham Academy to the opening of the new lab. 

Miss Gillian was even happier. She hated theoretical classes. First she reunited the whole class and gave the speech about safety inside the lab and asked you guys to form pairings. Obviously, you and Aly stuck together, however, it didn’t last long. Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne gently touched Aly’s shoulder and asked them if they’d like to switch partners with him.

Aly, knowing that Duke Thomas always stuck with his brother, looked at you with puppy eyes. You nodded at them, smiling. This might be their chance to “grab” him. So now you were stuck with Tim, probably for the whole semester, if not for the whole year. Yey!

— Hi — He said, shyly, and you had to control yourself to not roll your eyes. 

— Hi — You answered, trying to not sound angry.

— Did you get the flowers?

— I did.

— Do you like them?

— I’ve cut them to the stems — You answered, wearing your lab coat, angrily. 

He gulped.

— Look, I’m sorry…

— Enough talking. I’ll grab the materials.

You managed to keep him quiet for most of the class, since the experiment Mrs. Gillian chose wasn’t complicated, but required your complete attention. However, halfway through it, he slid a paper note to you.

“I really am sorry. I got stuck in a unexpected event”

You wrote back to him.

“Really? I couldn’t have guessed”

“How many times do you want me to apologise? You really think I would let you wait?”

“It’s not about leaving me waiting, it’s about not sending a message saying that you couldn’t make it”

“I ran out of battery and when I finally could charge my phone, you had blocked me”

“I doubt with all my heart that no one had a charger to borrow”

He sighed, then he did the unexpected: He added something to the solution that made it explode pink foam at you and him. The whole class laughed and Miss Gillian came to your aid. 

— Oh, geez. How did you even do this? — She said, inspecting you both — It’s just foam, gladly. But I want you all to look at them. Two of my best students, covered in unicorn vomit because they didn’t pay attention to what they were doing. Take it like a warning. You two, go wash yourselves. 

You looked at him angrily as you removed your lab glasses, leaving them on top of the worktop. Now you were a joke. You left the lab, walking quickly towards the washroom. He followed you.

— Not now — You said, washing your hands, angry, when he opened his mouth. He sighed again and started to wash his hands too.

— You know what, fuck this — He said, closing the tap — I did not just made a joke out of myself in front of the whole classroom so i could have a moment alone with you for you to treat me like shit. Yes, i fucked up. I left you waiting, but I didn't do this on purpose. And yes, I ran out of battery, and no, I couldn’t find anyone to lend me a charger because there were no sockets on Waynetech’s roof, and I know this is ironic. All I wanted was to get out of there so I could spend the evening with you, but I couldn’t. 

— Oh, your father did as he liked when he was our age, and you really want to play the “I couldn’t” card against me?

— I am not Bruce, Y/N! — He exclaimed, taking off his lab coat so he could wash it, even though the pink marks probably wouldn’t vanish — He was very irresponsible when he was our age, yes, he was. He was a spoiled brat, a scoundrel, practically a whore who fucked half the socialites in town and didn't give them the satisfaction. He slept at events held in his honour and the most popular thing on the internet are headlines about the embarrassments he committed when he was drunk. But I am not like him! I wanted to be there with you, I really wanted to! And Bruce changed a lot since he became a father! He educated us so we didn't take him as an example, so that we became gentlemans! I would have messaged you if I could, but I couldn't! What will it take for you to believe me?

You simply couldn’t hold back. He seemed really sorry. Your hands reached your face and hungrily pulled him down for your lips to touch his. Like your last kiss, this one wasn’t gentle, sweet or pretty. This kiss was hungry and full of emotion. He pulled you by the waist so he could be closer to you. His grip on your skin was rough and passionate, his hands were warm and cling to you as if you were made of dust and could simply slip through his fingers. You couldn’t judge him. Your grip on him wasn’t sweeter. One of your hands reached to his hair and the other pulled him closer by his shirt. You were still both soiled in pink foam, but you couldn’t care less. Nothing else mattered now, just your lips and his. 

Then the door opened and you quickly split apart, both embarrassed and breathing heavily. Miss Gillian stood on the door with an unbothered look on her face. She took off her glasses and cleaned them on her skirt, then put them on again.

— Well, it seems that you both don’t suck in Chemistry after all, just needed a different environment — She said and you saw Tim get even more red.

— Miss Gillian, I can explain.

— Look, honestly, I don’t care — She said — Actually, I’m happy, this means I won the bet against the other professors, however, you two should really get clean and go fill up the lab accident report. 

— Bet?! — Tim asked.

— We are stuck with the class most of the year — Miss Gillian said, crossing her arms — Sometimes we want to see some drama. Mrs. Bliss and I bet you guys would get together at the beginning senior year, Mr. Tanner, a romantic, bet on the sophomore year. Miss Oliver bet on the Junior year and Mr. Ogwan bet on the Senior Prom.

— No one thought we wouldn’t?

— Mr Hansen, but he is Sociology professor, he knows nothing about chemistry or romance — She said as if it was something personal to her — Finish cleaning yourself. I want the report at my table by the end of the class.

Miss Gillian left the washroom, closing the door as she left. You and Tim stared at the metal door for some seconds, still completely shocked. Then he turned to you again.

— This kiss mean I’m forgiven? 

— Yes, you are — You said, after laughing and taking your lab coat off.

He smiled beautifully and you finished cleaning the coats and threw them into the drawer machine. You grabbed a laboratory accident report card for you to fill together at the library.