#but no more lectures or assignments or tests or essays or-

[likesdoodling]

Spent a lot of the afternoon doodling~ I love these two :D

Rozemyne definitely has more methods, but this is a ~sample~ :D

The bottom half of that first panel is an example of what my sketchbook looks like 😂 (absolute chaos)

[camellia-thea]

don't want to study. don't want to do exam. i must do both.

[myonexox]

A GEEK

⁽ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉˡˡⁱᵍᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵃˢʰⁱᵒⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵒʳ ᵖᵒᵖᵘˡᵃʳ⁾

pairing : jake x female!reader

genre : romance, fluff, slow burn, high school au, mutual pining

synopsis : your quiet, geeky girl’s life changes when jake sim, the most popular boy in school suddenly starts noticing you. what begins as awkward encounters turns into something special as you get closer and discover how much you mean to each other

word count : 6.5k

you had always been invisible. not in the literal sense of course but in a way that made your presence in the crowded hallways of decelis high school feel unimportant. you just blended in with everyone else, your navy blazer and plaid skirt making you look like part of the crowd. it was a skill you had mastered over the years, being unnoticeable.

you’d walk through the corridors, arms clutching your books tightly against your chest, your head dipped low to avoid unnecessary eye contact.

life as a geek wasn’t bad. it was… predictable. your days followed a rigid routine that you found comfort in. morning began with your alarm’s shrill ring at 6:30 am sharp. you’d shuffle out of bed, slip on your thick rimmed glasses and head to the kitchen for a breakfast of toast and strawberry jam. by 7:15, you were at your desk, double checking your homework and packing your backpack.

your room was your sanctuary. shelves lined with books of every genre imaginable towered over your desk where stacks of notes and colorful pens were neatly arranged. posters of your favorite fantasy and science fiction films adorned the walls. it was the one space where you felt truly yourself.

at school, you weren’t the type to sit in the back and daydream during lectures. no, you were the girl in the front row, hand always raised with answers that made the teachers smile and the other students groan. it wasn’t your fault you loved learning. physics fascinated you, history intrigued you and math… well, math was the closest thing to magic you’d ever known. math was fun actually. there was always a solution to solve the question even if it took a while to find it.

the library was your second home. during lunch breaks, while your classmates crowded around cafeteria tables gossiping or laughing, you’d retreat to the quiet solace of the library. the librarian, mrs choi, often joked that you’d read through the entire fiction section before graduation. you weren’t sure if she was wrong.

your wardrobe didn’t exactly help you stand out either. comfort always came first which meant oversized sweaters, jeans and sneakers. you’d tried makeup once after watching a tutorial online but the eyeliner had smudged so badly you swore off the idea entirely. besides, who had time for makeup when there were more important things like finishing your essays?

if there was one thing you prided yourself on, it was your organizational skills. your planner was color coded. every test date, project deadline and extracurricular meeting was accounted for.

extracurriculars were another realm where you excelled, quietly of course. as a member of the school’s academic decathlon team, you spent countless times preparing for competitions that most of your peers didn’t even know existed. the thrill of solving complex problems was something only your teammates understood. they were your people in a way though you never hung out outside practice.

socially, you weren’t entirely isolated. you had acquaintances, people who’d partnered with you in group projects because they knew you’d do most of the work. there was minji who sat next to you in biology and occasionally borrowed your notes. and there was dohoon, your lab partner in chemistry who appreciated your knack for balancing equations but never talked about anything other than the assignment at hand.

deep down, you sometimes wondered what it would be like to be someone else. someone who didn’t have to try so hard to fit in because they already belonged. you weren’t bitter about it, envy wasn’t in your nature but the thought lingered on the edges of your mind. but what could you do? you’d much rather be home, curled up with a good book or rewatching your favorite sci-fi series than socializing. it was exhausting.

your family didn’t mind your geekiness though. your parents, both engineers, encouraged your love for academics. they were the ones who’d introduced you to stem at an early age, buying you science kits and puzzle books instead of dolls. your younger brother, jungwon, often teased you about your “walking encyclopedia” tendencies but it was all in good fun. he was the polar opposite of you, athletic, outgoing and effortlessly popular but the two of you got along well enough.

weekends were your favorite. saturday mornings were reserved for trips to the local bookstore where you’d spend hours browsing the shelves before leaving with a small stack of new treasures. afternoons were for academic pursuits, online courses and science experiments. sunday was family day, a time for board games and takeout dinners.

still, there were times when you really felt alone. like when the teacher announced group projects and you’d sit there, waiting for everyone to pair up, knowing you’d be one of the last picks. or when you overheard classmates making weekend plans that didn’t include you.

but you’d learned to accept it. after all, being a geek had its perks. you didn’t have to deal with the pressures of popularity or the drama that seemed to follow the school’s social elite. your world was small but manageable, filled with things you loved and understood. and that was enough for you. or so you thought.

but everything changed on the day you suddenly tripped over your own feet in front of the most famous boy in the school, jake sim.

it happened so fast you barely registered it. one second you were walking through the school courtyard, clutching your books tightly as usual and the next, your foot caught on a crack in the pavement. gravity did the rest.

your heart plummeted as your knees hit the ground, sending your books scattering across the concrete. the sting of embarrassment flared even before the pain set in. you heard laughter around you.

when you looked up, it felt like the world had slowed down. jake sim. of all people, it had to be jake sim. the most famous boy in school. the golden boy. captain of the soccer team, straight A student and the reason half the girls at decelis high pretended to care about morning assemblies. he was standing right there, his eyes widened in surprise.

his friends were there too. “did you see that?” one of them said, snickering. “she went down like a ton of bricks”

“classic geek move” another chimed in. the words burned and your face was on fire, hot with humiliation and you wanted nothing more than to disappear.

but then, jake moved. he stepped forward and crouched down in front of you. his friends quieted, their laughter fading into confused murmurs as he extended a hand toward you.

“hey are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle and genuinely concerned. his brown eyes met yours and for a brief, bewildering moment, you felt a flicker of warmth in his expression.

but the warmth didn’t last. you’d already heard his friends laughing at you. you could feel everyone was staring at you. some of the students nearby had even pulled out their phones, recording the scene as if it were some kind of spectacle.

your stomach churned. you were sure jake was mocking you too. why else would he bother? why would someone like him, someone who had everything, lower himself to help someone like you? it had to be a joke, some cruel attempt to make you feel even smaller than you already did.

without thinking, you shoved his hand away.

“don’t” you muttered, your voice trembling as you scrambled to your feet. the words barely made it past the lump in your throat. you didn’t dare look at him again, didn’t dare see the reaction on his face.

clutching your books to your chest, you bolted. your legs carried you across the courtyard as if your life depended on it.

by the time you reached the safety of the library, your chest was heaving and tears were threatening to spill. you sank into a corner, hiding behind a row of books and buried your face in your hands. it was the most humiliating moment of your life.

the rest of the day passed in a blur. you skipped lunch, avoiding the cafeteria at all costs. you didn’t go to your usual spot in the library either, knowing that someone might find you there. instead, you wandered the school aimlessly, keeping your head down and praying that no one would notice you.

but of course they did.

by the time the final bell rang, the entire school had seen the video. someone had posted it on social media with a caption that read, “geek girl meets golden boy #epicfail”. the clip had been shared dozens of times and the comments were relentless.

“omg this is gold” “she really thought jake was gonna save her lmao” “that’s what she gets for being such a try hard”

each comment felt like a dagger. you tried not to look but it was impossible to avoid. the video was everywhere, playing on phones and whispered about in every corner of the school. you caught snippets of conversations as you passed.

“did you see the way she ran?” “i can’t believe she pushed jake away. who does that? she must be crazy”

you wanted to scream, to cry, to lash out at everyone who was treating your humiliation like it was entertainment. but mostly, you just wanted to disappear.

you were sure jake had seen the video too. how could he not? his friends were probably laughing about it right now, showing him the clip over and over until it was burned into his memory. the thought made your stomach churn. you imagined him smirking, shaking his head at how pathetic you were. it wasn’t hard to picture. people like him didn’t care about people like you.

as soon as you got home, you immediately locked yourself in your room, threw your backpack onto the floor and collapsed onto your bed. the events of the day played in your mind on an endless loop, refusing to let you find peace.

the way his friends had laughed. the way the crowd had stared. the way he had looked at you, his hand outstretched like he actually cared.

you groaned, burying your face in your pillow. why did he have to do that? why couldn’t he just ignored you like everyone else? if he hadn’t tried to help, none of this would have happened.

you stared at the ceiling, wishing you could rewind time and avoid the courtyard altogether. or better yet, wishing the ground had opened up beneath you and swallowed you whole.

the next morning, you dreaded going to school. you considered pretending to be sick but your parents would see right through you. so you dragged yourself out of bed, got dressed and braced yourself for another day of whispers and stares.

and the whispers and stares were there just as you’d expected. people glanced at you in the hallways, some smirking, others pretending not to look but failing miserably. you heard someone say “hey, isn’t that the girl from the video?” as you walked by. you kept your head down, your cheeks burning and pretended not to hear.

jake was everywhere. not literally but in every conversation, every snicker, every mention of the incident. his name had become synonymous with your humiliation and you hated it. you hated him.

but most of all, you hated yourself for caring so much. for letting one moment define you.

you just hoped it would all blow over soon. that something else would happen to distract everyone and they’d forget about you. until then, all you could do was survive, one day at a time.

the school day had dragged on endlessly, each second ticking by like an eternity. everywhere you went, whispers seemed to follow. no matter how hard you tried to ignore them, the laughter and muffled conversations felt like they were closing in on you, suffocating and relentless. you just needed to get away.

the rooftop. yes. you rarely went there but it was the only place where no one could find you. and it was the only place that came to your mind at the moment. it wasn’t exactly a secret spot. plenty of students went there during lunch or breaks but in the middle of class periods, it was usually empty. at least, you hoped it would be.

you made your way up the stairwell. when you reached the top, you hesitated for a moment, hand hovering over the metal handle of the rooftop door. taking a deep breath, you pulled it open and peeked through the small gap.

no one. the space was deserted just as you’d hoped.

you slipped through the door, letting it close behind you with a soft click. the cool breeze brushing against your skin as you stepped closer to the railing. for a moment, the weight on your chest eased. up here, you felt like it was just you and the open sky, no whispers, no stares.

a frustrated sigh escaped your lips as you gripped the cold metal of the railing. the humiliation burned like a fresh wound and the anger bubbling in your chest was too much to contain.

without thinking, you let out a scream. it was raw, loud and full of every ounce of frustration and embarrassment you’d been holding in. the sound echoed across the rooftop, carried away by the wind. but it wasn’t enough. you needed more.

“damn it!” you yelled, kicking the base of the railing with your foot. the clang of metal rang out, satisfying in a way you couldn’t explain.

“stupid video! stupid school! stupid jake sim!” the words tumbled out, each one more sharper than the last. “if everyone thinks i’m just some geek who doesn’t have feelings, they can go to hell!”

you turned and kicked at an old wooden box that had been left by the wall, sending it skidding across the rooftop. you let out a short, bitter laugh.

“look at me” you muttered to yourself, shaking your head. “having a full on breakdown up here. real mature”

for a moment, you stood there, breathing heavily as the adrenaline began to fade. the silence was almost comforting. you pressed your palms to your face, letting out a long, shuddering sigh.

but then, you heard it.

a faint sound like footsteps on concrete. you froze, your heart skipping a beat. slowly, you turned your head, your eyes scanning the rooftop for the source of the noise.

and that’s when you saw him.

jake sim.

he was standing near the door, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“that was quite the performance” he said, his voice light and teasing. “didn’t know you had it in you”

your heart sank. of all people, why did it have to be him? you felt the heat rush to your face, your earlier anger quickly replaced by sheer mortification.

“how long have you been standing there?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.

he shrugged, pushing himself off the wall and taking a few steps closer. “long enough”

you groaned, covering your face with your hands. “oh my god. just… just leave, okay? pretend you didn’t see any of that”

“why would i do that?” he asked, tilting his head. “it was… entertaining. therapeutic even. honestly i get it. sometimes you just need to let it all out”

you dropped your hands and glared at him. “what do you want?”

he held up his hands in mock surrender. “relax, i’m not here to make fun of you if that’s what you’re worried about”

“sure you’re not” you muttered, turning back toward the railing. you gripped it tightly, your knuckles turning white.

then, there was silence. you half expected him to leave, to go back to his friends and tell them all about the geek girl having a meltdown on the rooftop. but instead, he stayed where he was.

“you know” he said after a while, his tone softer “people talk about me all the time. they make up stories, spread rumors, post videos. sometimes it feels like they think i’m not a real person. like i don’t have feelings”

you glanced at him, surprised by the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“i’m not saying i know exactly how you feel” he continued, meeting your gaze. “but i get it. it sucks”

you didn’t know what to say, you didn't know how to respond to that. his honesty caught you off guard and you weren’t sure if you believed him.

“yeah” you said finally, your voice quiet. “it does”

he smiled then, a small, genuine smile that made your heart felt something you didn’t quite understand.

“so” he said, gesturing to the broken box “are you feeling better now?”

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound surprising even you. “a little” you admitted.

“good” he said, his smile widening. “because i’m pretty sure that box didn’t deserve what you just did to it”

you rolled your eyes but the corner of your mouth twitched upward.

but then you remembered that this was all his fault. if only he had just ignored you like everyone else did, none of this would have happened. so why did he help you? why did he even do that? for what?

the questions swirled in your mind. jake sim was the last person who should’ve noticed you, let alone intervened. he wasn’t just popular, he was untouchable, orbiting in a world so far removed from yours that his sudden attention felt like some kind of cruel joke.

“well, what’s your deal?” you finally blurted out, turning to face him. your voice sharp but you didn’t care. if he was going to mess with you, he might as well do it openly.

he raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. “my deal?”

“yeah” you said, crossing your arms. ��why did you help me that day? why didn’t you just laugh along with your friends like everyone else? that's what you should do”

his expression shifted, the teasing smile fading into something more serious. he ran a hand through his hair, a small sigh escaping his lips. “i don’t know” he admitted. “you just… looked like you needed it”

you blinked, caught off guard by his answer. of all the answers you’d expected, that wasn’t one of them. “what does that even mean?”

“i mean...” he said, leaning against the railing beside you “you fell and i just thought you might need some help”

you frowned, studying his face. “so what? you felt sorry for me?”

“no” he said quickly. “it wasn’t like that. i just… i wanted to help. that’s all. is that wrong? it's normal, right?”

you didn’t know how to respond to that. part of you wanted to believe him but another part of you couldn’t help but feel suspicious.

“well, you shouldn’t have” you said finally, looking away. “now everyone’s talking about it. about me”

“and that’s a bad thing?” he asked, his tone light but curious.

“of course it is!” you snapped, turning back to him. “do you have any idea what it’s like to have people laugh at you, to make fun of you just for existing? i’ve spent my whole life trying to stay out of the spotlight and now, thanks to you, i’m front and center”

his jaw tightened and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make things harder for you”

you stared at him, furrowing your eyebrows. he looked almost… guilty. did he? it was a strange sight, seeing someone like him apologized to someone like you.

“i- it’s fine” you muttered, the anger in your chest softening. “just… don’t do it again”

he smirked. “no promises though”

you glared at him.

he chuckled. “so” he said after a while “what’s next for you? going to hide up here forever?”

you sighed, leaning against the railing. “i wish i could. but no, i’ll probably just… go back to class and pretend none of this ever happened”

“sounds boring” he said, his grin widening. “you should do something more dramatic. like storm into the cafeteria and announce that you’re taking over the school”

you snorted. “yeah right, that’ll really help my reputation”

“hey, it worked for me” he said with a wink.

you rolled your eyes and smiled.

as you walked back to your class, jake couldn't help but find himself smiling. at first, he thought you were just a funny ‘geek’ girl, someone quirky and different from the crowd he usually surrounded himself with. but there was something about the way you had spoken to him that stuck with him. he didn’t know why but he kept smiling, the image of you playing over and over in his mind.

by the time he returned to his own class, he still couldn’t shake the feeling. it wasn’t like him to get distracted especially by someone so… unexpected. but after that day, he found himself looking for you in the hallways, hoping to catch even a glimpse of you. and whenever he did, he couldn’t stop the grin that would spread across his face.

it started small, a passing smile here, a quick wave there. but somehow, you kept running into each other. sometimes it was at the rooftop where he’d escape to find a moment of peace only to find you already there. other times it was at the library where you’d be buried in a book.

“hey” he’d say, sliding into the seat across from you at the library.

you’d glance up, startled at first but then your expression would soften. “oh it’s you”

“don’t sound so excited” he’d tease, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

you’d roll your eyes. “what do you want?”

“nothing” he’d say, shrugging. “just thought i’d say hi”

and somehow, those brief interactions would turn into conversations. real conversations. not the shallow small talk he usually had with his friends but actual discussions about books, movies, anything and everything. you had a way of speaking that was so candid, so unfiltered that it made him feel like he could drop the act for once. like he could just be jake, not jake sim, the popular guy everyone wanted to be around.

it was… refreshing. addictive even.

he didn’t know when it started but he began seeking you out more and more. the rooftop became your unofficial meeting spot, a sanctuary where you could escape the noise and chaos of school. sometimes you’d sit in silence, simply enjoying the view. other times, you’d talk for hours, your conversations flowing effortlessly.

“you’re different” he told you once, leaning against the railing as his eyes never left your face.

you raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “gee, thanks. that’s not the first time i’ve heard that”

he laughed, shaking his head. “i mean it in a good way. you’re… real? i don't know how to explain it but it's like... like you don’t pretend to be someone you’re not”

you shrugged, your gaze fixed on the sky. “what’s the point? people will judge you no matter what you do”

“true” he said, nodding. “but still. it’s nice. talking to you i mean. please don't ever change. just... be yourself. that's better”

you glanced at him and simply nodded.

it was moments like those that stayed with him. the way you could silence him with a single look or make him laugh with your dry sense of humor. the way you’d listen when he talked, like really listen without expecting anything in return. you didn’t care about his popularity or his reputation.

and he liked that.

as the days turned into weeks, he found himself thinking about you more and more. whenever he was alone, his mind would drift to you. he’d replay your conversations in his head, savoring every word, every laugh.

“you’ve got it bad, man” one of his friends teased one day, catching him zoning out.

he snapped out of his thoughts, glaring at the guy. “what are you talking about?”

“you’ve been smiling like an idiot all day. so who’s the lucky girl?”

“no one” he said quickly. “just shut up”

was it that obvious? did people notice the way he… looked at you? the way he’d light up whenever you were around?

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. maybe his friend was right. maybe he did have it bad. but what was he supposed to do about it? you weren’t like the other girls he’d dated. you didn’t fawn over him or try to impress him.

and that only made him like you more.

for the first time in his life, he felt like he was falling for someone, really falling. not because of their looks or their social status but because of who they were. because of the way they made him feel.

and as terrifying as that was, it was also exhilarating.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the rooftop had become your refuge, a place to escape the noise and chaos of school life. you’d grown used to the tranquility it offered. it was your little corner of the world, a space where you could think, unwind and just be. but today, as you pushed the door open, the familiar sense of solitude wasn’t there. someone else had beaten you to it.

jake was standing by the railing, his back to the door. you froze for a moment, debating whether to leave and come back later but something about the way he stood stopped you. he looked… different. his shoulders were tense, his head slightly bowed as if he was deep in thought.

“jake?” you called out hesitantly, stepping onto the rooftop. he turned at the sound of your voice.

“hey” he said, offering a small smile.

you walked closer, stopping a few feet away from him. something was definitely off, you could see that.

“are you okay?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “you seem… a bit different today”

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he turned back to the railing, gripping it tightly. you could see the way his jaw clenched, the way his fingers tightened around the metal bar.

“jake?” you prompted gently, stepping closer.

he let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. “do you ever feel like… like you’re standing at the edge of a cliff and you know you need to jump but you’re scared?” he asked.

you blinked, caught off guard by the question. “i guess? i mean, i’ve felt scared about things before. is that how you’re feeling right now?”

he nodded, his gaze still fixed on the sky. “yeah. that’s exactly how i feel right now”

silence stretched between you. you didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to comfort him when you didn’t even know what was bothering him.

jake’s mind was a storm, a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions that he couldn’t seem to settle. should he tell you the truth? should he open up and lay it all bare, knowing that once the words left his mouth, there would be no turning back?

but what if you didn’t feel the same? what if his confession only made things awkward between the two of you, ruining the connection he had come to treasure so much? he hated the idea of losing this. it wasn’t something he’d experienced often and he wasn’t ready to let it go.

yet, keeping his feelings bottled up felt unbearable too. every time he saw you, every time you smiled or laughed or looked at him, it made his chest tighten and his heart race. he’d never felt like this before.

“why are you so scared?” he thought to himself, his grip tightening on the edge of the railing. “what’s the worst that could happen?”

the worst? he could already picture it. you’d avoid him, wouldn’t meet him on the rooftop anymore, wouldn’t share those quiet moments of peace and understanding. and he’d have to watch from a distance as you moved on, completely unaware of the effect you’d had on him.

but the best case scenario? that was harder to imagine. what if you smiled and said you felt the same? what if you took his hand and told him he wasn’t alone in this? it seemed too good to be true like a dream he didn’t dare to hope for.

he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. he couldn’t keep doing this, running in circles inside his own head, paralyzed by fear and doubt. if he didn’t say something now, he might never work up the courage to do it again.

“she deserves to know” a voice in his mind argued.

honesty. it sounded simple but it felt like the hardest thing in the world. still, he couldn’t keep running from this. he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when his feelings were threatening to consume him from the inside out.

with a shaky exhale, he opened his eyes and turned to face you. “this is it” he thought. “now or never”

“i’ve been thinking about something for a while now” he said finally. “something i’ve never really had to think about before. and it’s… it’s terrifying honestly”

you furrowed your brow. “what is it?”

he hesitated, his grip on the railing tightening. “it’s… complicated. i don’t even know how to explain it. and even if i did, i’m not sure you’d want to hear it”

“try me” you said, your voice soft but firm. “whatever it is, i’ll listen”

he glanced at you, his eyes searching yours as if looking for reassurance. whatever he saw seemed to give him courage because he took a deep breath and turned to face you fully.

“okay” he said, more to himself than to you. “okay”

you watched as he ran a hand through his hair again. he was clearly nervous which only made you more curious. jake sim wasn’t the type to get nervous. what could possibly have him so rattled?

“jake—”

and then he said it. three words that you never expected to hear from him.

“i like you”

you thought you’d misheard him. surely he hadn’t just said what you thought he’d said. right? but the look on his face told you otherwise. he was serious. dead serious. and that made your heart skip a beat.

“w- what?” you stuttered.

“i like you” he repeated, his voice stronger this time. “i have for a while now. i just… i didn’t know how to tell you. or if i even should. but i can’t keep it to myself anymore. i had to say it. i had to”

you stared at him, your mind racing. this was jake sim. the most popular guy in school. the guy everyone wanted to be friends with, to date, to be. and he was standing here, on the rooftop, confessing that he liked you? were you dreaming or hallucinating?

“why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

he blinked, clearly caught off guard by your question. “why what?”

“why… why me?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly. “i’m just… me? i mean, i’m not popular or cool or… any of the things you are. why would you even like someone like me?”

he let out a soft laugh though there was no humor in it. “that’s exactly why i like you. you’re not like everyone else. you don’t care about popularity or appearances or any of that stuff. you’re real. like i said, you're real. you’re honest. and you're just... yeah, you. you're just you. and you make me feel like i can be myself when i’m around you”

you opened your mouth to respond but no words came out. you didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process what was happening. this was all too much, too fast. and yet, there was a part of you that couldn’t help but feel… flattered. maybe even a little happy.

“i know this is probably a lot to take in” he said gently. “and i’m not expecting you to feel the same way. i just… i needed you to know. that’s all”

you looked at him. he wasn’t joking. he wasn’t playing some cruel prank.

“jake, i…” you began but your voice trailed off. you really didn’t know how to finish the sentence. what could you possibly say that wouldn’t make things even more complicated? and even more... awkward than it already was?

he smiled, a small, bittersweet smile. “it’s okay. you don’t have to say anything. like i said, i just needed you to know how i feel. that’s all that matters. i—”

before he could finish, you grabbed his shirt, pulling him forward and pressing your lips against his. it was sudden, impulsive and completely out of character for you. but in that moment, it felt right. it was a kiss that lasted barely a second, just long enough to silence him but not long enough to fully process what you had done. when you pulled away, your face was already burning as you released his shirt.

“i think… i like you too?” you said softly. your eyes darted everywhere but his face, too shy to meet his gaze. the words felt foreign and strange coming out of your mouth but they were true. you liked him and it was about time you admitted it, not just to him but to yourself.

you took a small step back, your fingers curling nervously into your palms.

at first, jake had been nothing more than the most popular boy in school. you had your books and your quiet life. you never thought someone like him would even notice you, let alone talk to you. he was charming, confident and surrounded by people who adored him. you had always assumed he was just like everyone else in his social circle. superficial, vain and too wrapped up in his own world to care about anyone outside of it.

but then that fateful day happened. the day you tripped over your own feet and fell right in front of him. the embarrassment had been overwhelming especially when his friends laughed at you. yet, amidst the jeers and snickers, jake had extended his hand to help you up. you hadn’t taken it then, too mortified and convinced that his kindness was just another way to mock you. still, that moment had stayed in your mind far longer than you wanted to admit.

after that, he started showing up everywhere you went. at first, it seemed like a coincidence, bumping into him at the library or passing him in the hallways. but then there were the rooftop encounters, moments that felt too deliberate to be accidental. you’d always gone to the rooftop to escape. it was your sanctuary other than the library. yet somehow, he had managed to worm his way into that space too.

you remembered the first time he sat down beside you on the rooftop. he hadn’t said much, just offered a casual “hey” before settling into the spot next to you. you had been too stunned to respond, too caught off guard. why was he there? what did he want from you? but as the days turned into weeks and the rooftop became your unofficial meeting spot, you began to see a different side of him.

he wasn’t like the version of him you had built up in your mind. he wasn’t just the popular guy who thrived on attention and basked in the admiration of others. he was thoughtful and... dare you say it, kind. he listened when you spoke as if your words mattered to him. and you'd do the same. and when he talked, he let down his guard, revealing pieces of himself that you doubted he shared with anyone else. it was in those moments that you saw the real jake sim, not the image everyone else worshipped but the person behind it.

you had tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered whenever he smiled at you, the way your pulse quickened when he leaned in just a little too close during your conversations. you told yourself it didn’t mean anything, that it was just your imagination playing tricks on you. but the truth was, he had wormed his way into your heart without you even realizing it.

it wasn’t one grand gesture or a single moment that made you fall for him. it was a series of little things. the way he remembered everything you told him, the way he teased you just enough to make you smile, the way he always seemed to know when you needed a friend. it was the way he made you feel seen. and maybe that was what scared you the most. the idea that someone like him could see you in a way no one else ever had.

for a moment, jake just stood there, frozen. he tried to process what had just happened. you kissed him. you actually kissed him. on the lips. and then you said you liked him.

“oh my god” you muttered, covering your face with your hands. “i shouldn’t have done that. i’m so so so sorry… i didn’t mean to make this awkward. jake, please just forget i—”

before you could finish your apology, his hands shot out, grabbing yours and gently pulling them away from your face. his heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it but he didn’t care. in one swift motion, he leaned forward and captured your lips with his.

this time, the kiss wasn’t brief. it wasn’t hesitant or uncertain. it was full of everything he had been holding back. the longing, the fear, the overwhelming relief of knowing you felt the same. his hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. his lips moved against yours slowly at first, testing, savoring but as you responded, he grew bolder. the kiss became more fervent, more desperate as if he was trying to pour all his emotions into that single moment.

you felt his fingers tangle gently in your hair. his lips were warm, soft and incredibly inviting, making it impossible to think about anything else. the world around you seemed to disappear. the rooftop, the school, everything. all that existed was him, the way he made you feel and the dizzying sensation of his lips moving perfectly against yours.

when he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless. his forehead rested against yours as he closed his eyes, a small, content smile playing on his lips.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while” he admitted, his voice low and slightly raspy.

you couldn’t help but laugh softly, your cheeks still flushed. “you could’ve just told me”

“yeah, well” he said, finally opening his eyes to look at you. his gaze was warm, filled with so much affection it made your heart skip a beat. “i think this worked out better”

neither of you moved for a moment as if afraid that breaking the silence would shatter the magic of what had just happened. but when he smiled at you again, that playful, boyish grin you’d grown so used to, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

“so” he said, his voice light and teasing now. “does this mean i can officially call you my girlfriend?”

you rolled your eyes but your lips curved into a smile. “whatever you want, jake sim”

“i’ll take that as a yes” he said, his grin widening.

you stood close together, the breeze gently ruffling your hair. his hand found yours, intertwining your fingers.

it was strange to think how much had changed in such a short span of time. you, the girl who had always preferred to blend into the background, the girl who had built walls to protect herself from the judgment of others had found something so unexpected in the boy who had everything. and jake, the boy who had lived his life in the spotlight, surrounded by people who adored him for what he was rather than who he was had found solace in you.

it wasn’t a fairytale ending. it wasn’t dramatic or over the top. it was simple but that was what made it perfect.

[bellaveux]

BETWEEN THE PAGES | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

genre: college au! fluff, smut

summary: professor maximoff asks you out on a date.

content warnings: MINORS DNI! fluff, smut, college au!, unspecified age gap, professor!wanda, student!reader, bit of alcohol consumption, smut; service top!wanda, power bottom!reader kinda, making out, marking, fingering and oral (r! receiving), overstimulation, little bit of a praise kink

word count: 9.5k

note: i’ve been meaning to write another professor!wanda and black cat!reader fic so wrote this as kind of a prequel to AFTER CLASS but it’s long overdue lol. i hope u like it!

You always came to class early. That was the first thing she noticed about you. But, there was something about the way you entered her lecture hall for the first time, sitting just a few rows away from her desk, close enough for her to see you without anyone getting in the way. It was something about you that was so endearing. She just couldn’t figure out what exactly it was about you that made her stomach flutter and her heart beat faster than it typically does. Usually dressed in a skirt that gracefully swayed with each step and a cozy sweater that hugged your figure, you never failed to greet her with a shy smile each day you entered the room, and each time she swooned. Too cute. It was like that for the first few months: watching the door patiently to see when you would walk in, stealing glances your way when you were seated in front of her as she taught, or occasionally looking over the book she was reading while you were taking a test, reading a book, or working on notes. She couldn’t help it. It also didn’t help that you were not only beautiful but smart, too. Every test, assignment, and project she had given out, you nailed them with ease, almost like you'd already mastered the subject prior to her teachings. Perfect was what you were. She thought about it every day.

As each day passed, Wanda always looked forward to the days when you would enter her class. And she wasn’t trying to be a creep about it in any way, but she couldn’t help but look… and wonder. She wondered about what you were like outside of her class, if you were just as reserved and quiet as you were in here or if you were bubbly and talked a lot, and what your voice sounded like. You were quiet. And it wasn’t a quality that she didn’t like at all; in fact, it only made her more intrigued, like you were a mystery that she wanted to solve. In the quiet moments, when the world slowed down, her thoughts would invariably drift to you—your earnest gaze, your subtle smiles, the way your eyes seemed to light up the room.

But despite the elation of her thoughts of you, she makes sure to remind herself why you were here in the first place: you were her student. And for your professor to have such thoughts about one of her students, it was wrong. She knew this from the beginning. But try as she might to suppress her emotions, Wanda found herself captivated by your presence anyway.

And she really tried, to be fair. She tried to ignore her thoughts of you in her head, but she could only do so much. In the end, she couldn’t resist asking you to meet her after class during her office hours. She’d try multiple times to find the most credible excuse to get you to stay, and usually, she’d opt for subjects regarding your work and even ask you if you were interested in being a teacher’s assistant. Who in their right mind would decline that offer? You’d get paid on top of being alone in the same room with your favorite professor—the, despite her intimidating looks, easygoing professor that you had been fond of since day one. In fact, everyone liked her. Most of the students thought she was hot anyway, which you had to agree on as well.

The work she had you do was simple, for the most part. Grading papers and organizing paperwork and files for her were the most common tasks she gave you. Eventually she had you read a few essays and reports, asking you to judge how well they were written. Wanda thought of it as a learning experience—to read, collect your thoughts, elaborate, and then discuss with you on that same subject. It was a little nerve-racking, to say the least, but really, you enjoyed every second you spent with this professor. Especially since she was so nice to you.

And you’d be lying if you said you had never noticed her lingering eyes on you on several occasions. Sometimes she stands behind your seat and leans over to see your assignments, and you can smell her sweet perfume and feel her breath against the top of your head. Then, you’d be lying a second time if you said it didn’t make your stomach flutter each time she got close to you.

Of course, with the quiet moments you shared together each week, you began to notice some things you'd never noticed before: how she's unable to get to work without a hot cup of tea using that old, faded, and chipped mug that the university gave her a couple years ago, how she spends an extra few minutes in her office at the end of each day because she always misplaces her ID card, or how she constantly has her nose stuck in a book—a poetry book you’d often see, when she wasn’t reading those one of those meaty, mind-bending volumes.

And as time went by, you also began to notice more and more the way she would look at you. It wasn’t as if you were completely oblivious to her stares. You could see clearly when her eyes would linger a little longer than necessary, occasionally catching the flicker of a smile that your professor seemed to suppress. It was as if you had developed a sixth sense for each time her demeanor shifted or her eyes would trace over you, just as she was doing now.

"Is everything alright, Professor?" You say, your voice coming out smoothly, cutting through the quietness that filled the room.

"Yes, I’m fine." Wanda cleared her throat and turned away from you, her eyes darting back to the book she was supposedly reading. "It’s, um... I’m just lost in my thoughts."

"Lost in your thoughts or lost in trying not to stare too obviously?"

Your professor’s eyebrows twitched upwards, your question pinking her cheeks as she turned the page of her book mindlessly while attempting to hide her smile. "I assure you, (Y/n). This book is… intense."

"Intense?" You rolled your eyes, not entirely convinced by her excuse, as your eyes traced the cover of her book. "Hmmm, The Book of Nature… William Wordsworth?"

Wanda skimmed through the pages of her book and cleared her throat for the second time, "It's a deep exploration of... um, philosophical concepts. Quite thought-provoking, really."

"Philosophical concepts?" You repeated with a sly smile playing lightly at your lips. "Are you sure that’s what it’s about? If I remember correctly, Wordsworth is a poet, right? And you look pretty relaxed for someone who’s reading about some intense philosophical poetry."

"Well, I think philosophical debates can be strangely soothing sometimes," she told you with a chuckle, slowly making her way out of the nervous state she was in just a moment ago.

"Really? I mean, I love poetry, but that’s quite the intellectual balance you’ve got there."

"Yeah," she breathed, her confidence seemingly flowing from her body right in front of your eyes as she used a finger to adjust the collar of her button-up. "And speaking of balance, how do you manage to keep your work in check while being so captivatingly distracting?"

The blush that paints your cheeks presents itself much more quickly than you could’ve imagined. It was adorable. Managing to turn away from her this time, you avoid her eyes as yours land back down on the papers that were set in front of you, completely forgotten while being under your professor’s gaze. You could practically feel the smile on her face as she watched your every movement. Wanda pulled her office chair closer to yours, where you had brought an extra chair up to her desk as you worked. She set her book down softly, mindlessly leaning in closer and closer to your face as her eyes kept darting between your eyes and those delicious-looking lips of yours. Her tongue dragged itself along the bottom of her lip subconsciously as she stared at you, not even hiding her intentions this time.

"You make it awfully hard to concentrate, (Y/n)," she continued as her eyes traced over the contours of your face, down to the skin of your neck as it strained slightly underneath the collar of your sweater. "I find it rather difficult to stay focused when you’re sitting in front of me."

"Um, Professor… I think we should…" With a flustered smile and stern eyes, you motioned over to the clock right by the door, notifying her that her time with you was nearly up.

Wanda only smiled before speaking again, nodding her head as she leaned back slowly to glance over to check the time, "Of course. Do carry on with your student duties, Miss (L/n)."

To be honest, it’s the first time she has heard you talk so much. Your voice was delicate and smooth, a voice that she wanted to keep hearing over and over again. Talking to you was something she wanted more of. She was quite smug, thinking about how all the rest of the students who admired you for your intelligence and work ethic didn’t get to talk with you as much as she did or spend time with you as much as she did.

A triumphant warmth spread through Wanda's chest as she turned back to read her book. Successfully making you flustered had ignited a sense of giddiness she hadn't felt in a while. But, a calm smile played on her lips, a facade she effortlessly maintained to match your demeanor, masking the happiness that bubbled within her. It’s evident throughout the days, where fragments of her infatuation for you are sprinkled into every moment you spend together. In those moments, she loved everything about you—from the way you worked and focused on your tasks, to the way your voice sounded despite not talking all that much, to the way you furrowed your eyebrows when your eyes stumbled upon something that confused you, or when your lips would curve into that pretty smile she loved to see so much.

Eventually, Wanda came to terms with her feelings rather quickly, but made no move to pursue them just yet. For you to be her lover was something that was not allowed, especially in her profession. She’d also still have to tackle the subject of whether or not you harbored even the slightest similarity about whether you had the same interest as she did for you. During moments where she would sit alone in her office or at home, she’d often let her mind drift off to the thought of you and how she would treat you if she were able to call you hers. Gifts like flowers, books, or jewelry would gladly be given as attempts to make you happy. She’d give you flowers every day if it allowed her to see that smile of yours for even just one second.

The two of you spend the rest of the semester filled with mindless flirting and grading essays, projects, and assignments, all while Wanda reads most of the time, and by reading, you mean she skims over a couple pages and spends the next few minutes admiring the beauty that is you before her. And sometimes, she lets her mind wander just as her eyes do, down to the skin of your thighs underneath those black tights, wondering how it would feel to have her hands all over your legs. She wonders how you would sound, moaning her name as you give her the sweet taste of heaven. If you hadn't been so engrossed in the activity your mind was occupied with, you'd see how her eyes latch to your frame and the way her mouth waters at the sight. It takes everything in her to keep her composure and not pull you into her private office and have her way with you.

She wants to do this correctly, of course. She wants you to want it, too. Though, it may seem like you return her advances and all the rest of her flirty remarks, she wants to make sure it’s something you are sure of.

So, she asks. And she starts by giving you a gift.

"Shakespeare?" You questioned curiously, running a finger along the spine of the book as a shy smile slowly etched its way onto your face. "I didn’t really take you for a romantic, Professor."

She had given you a gift before you were able to step away so soon from her and her class room. The book—The Sonnets by William Shakespeare—rested neatly in the palm of your hand as Wanda watched you inspect it with eager curiosity. You had mentioned your love of poetry once, and with her own collection sitting in the comfort of her own home, she decided to give you one of the books that she loved so much. It was romantic and a tad bit cliché, she’d have to admit, but to make you happy just as you did for her was the only thing she wanted from this.

Wanda brought a hand up to scratch the back of her neck, her eyes darting down to the book in your hand, "Well, I-I appreciate the beauty in romance, yes."

"Thank you for this. I’ll make sure to read it over break," you say, holding the book tightly between your chest and your arm before turning to make your way out of the door. "See you next semester."

Wanda had pondered it, thinking how long the two weeks of winter break would feel with you away from her. The weekends already felt like too long of a wait before Monday came around—the first day of each week when you stepped foot in her class. She looked forward to every day because of you and loved thinking about you on the weekends, then she’d repeat it all over again. But, two weeks. Two whole weeks without seeing that pretty face of yours or hearing that quiet, pretty voice of yours—it sounded dreadful.

"(Y/n)?" She called out to you before you could step out of her empty lecture hall. "Can you stay for a bit? I have something to ask."

She asked you out to dinner in the next few minutes after going on a quite adorable ramble about her being so enamored by you that she couldn’t help but ignore her own boundaries as your professor and ask you out on a date. She was confident but, at the same time, so anxious to hear what you had to say about it. The stare you gave her after her little speech was enough to make her want to dig a hole so deep into the earth and crawl into it so that she’d never be able to see the light of embarrassment. Wanda watched as you clutched the book she gave you tightly in your arms. By this point, she was so sure you’d turn her down given how long you were taking to answer.

Of course, when you answered, she couldn’t process it correctly for the first few seconds, but as soon as she did, her eyes lit up just as brightly as the sun on a clear day. The smile she was biting back was contagious, making you roll your eyes and smile back as she fought the urge to wrap her arms around you. And for a moment, you even thought as if you could imagine a tail wagging back and forth behind her in excitement. You both agreed on next Friday night at eight in the evening, when she would pick you up, take you out to a nice restaurant, and treat you like a queen. You deserved a lovely evening out, and Wanda couldn’t wait to share it with you.

As she went about her daily tasks leading up to that Friday, an uncontainable excitement welled up within her, and she couldn't help but steal moments to envision the evening ahead, leaning back in her office chair to imagine the upcoming night with a dreamy smile on her face, the prospect of sharing dinner and conversation with you filling her mind. Her heart raced with anticipation, wondering what you’d wear on that night, wondering how even prettier you would seem so close next to her, wondering how your hand would fit in hers, and wondering if you’d let her steal a kiss or two, or maybe, if she was lucky, even more. And god, she prayed for all of the luck to be on her side for even just one night.

When Friday came, Wanda rushed home from her office at the university to get ready before she would drive to pick you up at the address you had emailed her—she forgot to ask where you lived, but before she could ask, you had emailed her your address a couple hours earlier. She smiled at the thought, being so excited for the date that she forgot to ask one of the most important questions. Wanda settled on wearing an all-black suit, one of her favorites, and made sure to smooth out every wrinkle with a precise touch, each movement revealing the anticipation bubbling beneath her calm exterior. She knew that your choice of attire was a mystery, and her all-black ensemble was a versatile canvas, ready to complement whatever you had in mind.

But, fuck, when she saw you—God, she was just in pure awe at the sight of you.

Wanda arrived a little bit early, the anticipation of your dinner date bubbling within her. She parked her car outside of your apartment building and leaned against it, one foot casually crossing over the other. She glanced at her watch, checking the time, but her heart raced with a different kind of countdown. As the moments passed, Wanda’s excitement only grew. But when you finally emerged from the building, the sight that greeted Wanda left her speechless. The dress you wore wrapped around your frame perfectly, the silky fabric resting on your soft curves, along with a daring slit that ran up your thigh, revealing a glimpse of your leg with each step you took, and it drove her absolutely crazy. Wanda's breath caught in her throat as she gazed at you; the sight of your shy smile made her heart race even faster.

Fuck, she wanted to say. And for a moment, she struggled to find her words, but not less than a second later, she managed to regain her composure, a smitten grin forming on her lips, "You look beautiful, (Y/n)."

"Thank you, Professor," you replied, smiling innocently up into her eyes in a way that drove her insane. "You’re looking pretty amazing as well."

Wanda couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at your compliment, but she was still spellbound by the stunning vision before her. She offered her arm to you and walked with you towards the car, opening the car door for you. But, she couldn't shake the image of that tantalizing slit in your dress; the glimpse of your leg driving her senses into overdrive.

Throughout the night, Wanda found it nearly impossible to tear her gaze away from that slit in your dress. The subtle but alluring glimpse of your skin had cast a spell on her, igniting a fire of desire and fascination that she struggled to contain. Each moment she spent with you, Wanda's mind wandered, and she’d stumble on her words as she spoke, all because of her thoughts returning again and again to the sight that had driven her senses wild earlier. She couldn't help but steal glances at that tantalizing slit in your dress whenever you shifted or crossed your legs, her heart racing each time her eyes traced the path upward. And every now and then, you would catch Wanda's lingering gaze, a knowing smile playing on your lips. You seemed to relish the effect your attire had on your professor, your confidence growing as the evening progressed.

The date was going splendidly, with you and Wanda engaging in lively conversations, sharing stories, and relishing each other's company. You laughed together, savored delicious meals, and exchanged meaningful glances that hinted at your growing connection. Both of you were having a great time, enjoying the chemistry and camaraderie that seemed to come so naturally. However, your dress, still with its tantalizing slit, had become a magnetic force that Wanda found impossible to resist. It was as if her mind had been spellbound, repeatedly drawn back to that alluring detail with every glance in your direction. While you spoke passionately about your love for literature and your dreams, Wanda tried her best to maintain eye contact and stay engaged in the conversation. But time and again, her gaze would wander, trailing along the path of that tempting slit.

She stared all night, wondering what it would feel like to run her fingertips against your soft skin, wondering how you’d look when you slip out of your dress slowly, wondering how you’d sound—and the precious imagery alone caused all higher brain function to abandon her.

As the night continued, Wanda couldn't help but feel overwhelming happiness. Your presence was intoxicating, and your smile was a beacon that lit up the evening. It was a feeling she had longed for—the joy of being in the company of someone who not only understood her intellectually but also stirred something deeper within her. You were perfect. So perfect. She wouldn’t have had it any other way. Wanda was proud to have even come this far with you and wondered if you’d allow her the chance to take you out for a second time. She would be glad, too. God, she prayed you’d want to.

Dinner ended sooner than both of you would have liked. Wanda found herself lost in the sight of you the whole night, wishing she could linger in the moment a little while longer. And the idea of taking you home felt like an interruption to a masterpiece still in progress. She held your hand as she walked with you slowly down the path back to her car, which was parked a few ways away for this very reason.

But there was one thing Wanda couldn’t get off of her mind as she led you inside her car and started the drive back to your apartment—your lips. She wanted so badly, more than anything, to kiss you. Those lips that had been speaking to her for the entire night—she wanted to taste them and feel them against hers. With every passing streetlight, the desire to lean over and capture your lips at every red light only grew stronger. Her heart raced, and her fingers gripped the steering wheel every time she thought about it. The desire to taste the sweetness of your lips was undeniable. Yet, she hesitated. The night had been so perfect, and she didn't want to rush things.

"Thank you for tonight, Professor," you softly as soon as the car came to a slow stop in front of your building. "I had a wonderful time."

"Well, it’s not every day I get to have dinner with someone as beautiful as you," Wanda said, turning her head to face you as her hand gripped the steering wheel.

"You really know how to lay it on thick, don't you, Professor?" You rolled your eyes, trying to fight back the laugh that almost spilled from your mouth.

Wanda grinned from ear to ear and glanced at the street in front of her for only a moment, "I mean, only when it’s the truth—"

Mid-sentence, just as Wanda spoke, you leaned in and planted a soft, sweet kiss on her cheek, maybe a tad bit close to the corner of her lips. It was a sudden, tender gesture that caught Wanda completely off guard, making her grip tighten around the gear shift of the car. Then, you gently place your soft hand on top of hers, causing her vision to go hazy with clouds of lust, devotion, and affection. You don’t miss the way her ears turned red as you pulled away from her face.

Eventually, Wanda found her voice, though it was tinged with surprise as she stammered out, "Well, that was... unexpected."

In her mind, truthfully, she wanted to ask you to do it again and again and again. Maybe she’d ask for you to kiss her lips next time, but she’d never let you go off to do anything else.

"I think you’re too much of a flatterer," you chuckled softly, your fingers gently tracing the outline of Wanda's hand on the center console. "Do you say that to all of your students, Professor?"

Still slightly stunned from the tiny kiss, Wanda turned to face you. Her usual composure had been momentarily shattered by the feeling of your lips against her skin, and she met your eyes with a genuine, heartfelt sincerity, "No… just you."

The words slipped out of her mouth, unfiltered and genuine, carrying with them the depth of her feelings. In that moment, Wanda realized that her attraction to you was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It wasn't just casual flirting with someone who she thought was pretty, as she did in the beginning; it was something deeper, something that had taken her by surprise the longer she had gotten to know you. Wanda's heart continued to race as she watched your playful expression soften, replaced by a warm and genuine smile.

"Do you want to come in, Professor?"

Wanda, still feeling the electrifying effects of the way your lips felt, faltered once more. The idea of spending more time with you was undeniably tempting, but she knew that if she continued this evening further, it would require every ounce of her self-control. Her hands ached to touch you, to run them along your waist and hips, and she longed to press her lips against yours over and over again. The dress you wore was not much help either; her eyes were always glancing down to that slit that showed off the soft skin of your leg. In her mind, a hundred affirmations echoed, each one urging her to say yes. So, she did.

You led her towards your apartment, hand in hand, walking down the softly lit halls of the building in a happy, expectant silence. Although she tried to hide it, Wanda could feel her own excitement building to an almost unbearable level. Her heart raced, and her breaths came a touch quicker as you led her to your place, the feeling of your hand in hers setting her skin on fire. When you reached the door, you fumbled for your keys with one hand, your other still firmly clasped with Wanda's. Your movements were deliberate, yet there was an undeniable excitement radiating from you, a subtle telltale sign that you, too, were looking forward to what lay ahead.

A sense of comfort washed over Wanda as she stepped inside, the atmosphere of your warm apartment enveloping her as she followed you in. She watched your hips as you walked in front of her, her cheeks and ears reddening at the sight once more. Your space was also thoughtfully decorated, exuding a lived-in charm that made it feel like home.

"I’m sorry about the mess. It’s usually tidier, I promise," you tell her, placing your bag gently on the counter in the kitchen before turning back to look at her. "I honestly wasn’t planning on inviting you in yet, but… I don’t know; I guess I couldn’t help myself."

Wanda, however, didn't seem the least bit bothered. Her warm smile remained unwavering, and she looked around with genuine appreciation. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her hands now stuffed into the pockets of her pants, coolly leaning against the wall, "No, I don’t mind it. And it’s not messy at all. It’s a lovely home."

Her eyes roamed over your cozy living room with its soft, inviting couch, adorned with a few well-placed cushions. The warm glow of dimmed lamps bathed the room in a soft, comforting light. Bookshelves lined one wall, their shelves cradling an eclectic collection of literature, each book seeming to hold a story of its own. The scent of a vanilla-scented candle lingered in the air. It was a cozy, lived-in scent that made Wanda feel instantly at ease—a reflection of you and everything you loved. And on your coffee table, amidst your own collection of books, she saw the one she had given you. It lay there, open and well-loved, with pages slightly ruffled and a bookmark placed near the end. In no way would Wanda have minded the mess at all, not when she was surrounded by the tokens of you and your life.

"I’m almost done with it," Wanda heard you say as she looked around your apartment. "The sonnets are really beautiful. I think I’m enjoying it better than his plays."

The professor raised an eyebrow at your claim, "Bold statement, (Y/n)… But I’m glad you’re enjoying it."

You smiled at her as you moved to get two glasses and a bottle of wine that you’ve been saving for special occasions, and this was definitely one of them. But when you turned to look back at Wanda, her gaze, once warm and affectionate, had intensified with desire and lust as she watched you pour the wine into the glasses. Her eyes held an unmistakable hunger, as if you were the most captivating thing in the world, and it didn't go unnoticed. Wanda's stare was so intense and filled with longing that it seemed to sear through you like a fiery caress. It made your heart race, and your breaths quickened as you tried to maintain your composure. With that look in your eye, you knew this night was about to get even more special.

"What are you thinking so hard about over there, Professor?" You asked with a smirk that made Wanda weak in her knees.

Wanda shook her head and bit her lip, her cheeks reddening at the topic of her own thoughts. She made her way towards you as you slowly lifted the wine glass to your lips. And although you were occasionally flustered by her intense gaze, you had a reputation for your own brand of composed charm. Wanda approached the counter where the wine glasses were placed, her fingers lightly caressing the stem of a glass as she lifted it herself. Her movements were fluid and sensual, drawing your attention like a moth to a flame. But this time, when she turned to face you, she found herself locked in a gaze that mirrored her own desire. Your eyes held a magnetic allure, an intensity that matched Wanda's in every way—your look was a silent challenge, a dare to see who would break first.

You brought the wineglass to your lips, and the woman in front of you watched with a heightened sense of awareness, her gaze locked onto the way your lips delicately touched the rim of the glass. Your soft and inviting lips seemed to beckon Wanda like an irresistible temptation. They glistened with the remnants of the wine, and a thousand thoughts raced through her mind. She couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to taste those lips and feel their softness against her own. She wondered how your lips would feel, how they would respond to her touch, and how you’d moan into her mouth. And she couldn’t get her mind off of it.

"Professor," you spoke, setting your glass down on the counter before stepping close in front of her. "I think… you’re thinking too much."

Wanda’s anticipation was palpable, and she held her breath as you closed the distance between the two of you, her heart pounding in her chest. As you stood so close, your breaths nearly mingling, you sensed that she was still overthinking the moment. And finally, in a bold move, your hands reached out, gently tugging on her suit jacket, pulling her even closer. The touch was electrifying, sending a shiver down her spine as your lips met hers in a deep kiss. Wanda's breath caught in her throat as your lips met hers, and she melted into the kiss with a soft groan, moaning at the sweetness of your lips that she had been waiting all night to feel.

You led her to your bedroom with your lips never leaving hers and your arm around her neck while your other hand pulled her jacket roughly off her shoulders. A laugh bubbles against your mouth as you trip over the rug on the way to your room, but Wanda catches you with a chuckle, her hands at your waist holding you against her. Your lips fit so perfectly against hers, and the taste of you on her tongue unlocked all of the desires she had been trying to keep at bay. All she could think about was you. Mere seconds have gone by when your back finally meets the soft comfort of your bed, all while Wanda explores your mouth with her tongue. She indulges herself in the taste of you and tugs desperately at your dress, just as you tried to undo her belt, albeit poorly. The gasp you let out when Wanda moved her head down to your neck, sucking, licking, and nipping at your sensitive skin, distracted you from your current task, leaving her belt loosely unbuckled.

"Mmh, Professor…" Your bedroom was painted with your needy moans and Wanda’s soft grunts as she pressed herself against you, your body pressed in between her and the mattress.

"Wanda," she murmured into your neck, leaving marks on your skin as her mouth explored. "You can call me Wanda… Please."

You smiled and ran your hand through her hair, urging her to look at you and bring her face close to yours just for you to say her name in the sultriest way that made the woman in front of you physically stutter, "Wanda."

Wanda swallows the lump in her throat, dazed as she watches your lips as you spoke out her name. She parted her lips, unaware of the hazy look in her eyes as she stared at you. Dragging her tongue over her bottom lip, she subconsciously leaned in to press another kiss to your sweet mouth, but you cupped her face with a soft yet commanding touch before she could close the distance. Wanda's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as your gentle fingers caressed her skin. She felt a shiver run down her spine as your touch lingered, trailing slowly from her face, down her neck, and over her collarbone. Your hands moved with deliberate tenderness, unbuttoning the rest of her shirt one button at a time.

And she could only watch; her eyes locked onto your hands as if they were the most mesmerizing thing in the world. Your movements were slow, each button releasing its hold on the fabric with a soft, tantalizing pop. Wanda, lost in the sensations of your touch, was in a daze once again. Her eyes remained fixed on your hands, watching as they worked their way down, unbuttoning her shirt one by one. Your fingers brushed against her skin, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in their wake. With the last button undone, you gently slid Wanda's shirt off her shoulders, and it slipped down her arms, a whisper of fabric gliding to the floor. You couldn’t help but smile at her, hovering over you with a black bra on, her pants unbuckled, and her hair tousled from all of the making out. God, was she beautiful.

And Wanda thought the same thing about you, if not more. You still had your dress on, and the way you spread your legs a bit so she could settle comfortably on top of you did nothing but make her feral. Wanda’s mouth practically watered at the sight of your exposed skin. With a gentle and curious hand, her fingers danced along the skin of your leg, slipping under that same tantalizing slit that had been teasing her the whole night. She kissed your chest as she did so, but with the way you were squirming underneath her, Wanda couldn’t get the thought of your hot, naked, trampling body out of her head. And she could feel it—fuck, that lacy underwear you were wearing—as if you had planned this all along. It was driving her absolutely insane.

"You can take my clothes off for me," you whispered lowly into her ear, and for a moment, Wanda froze at your words.

Soon enough, her hands started pulling roughly at every piece of fabric she could get her hands on. She needed to see you. She was going to lose it if she didn’t see you. And despite how rough her hands were, Wanda carefully slipped the dress off of your body, undoing its zipper in a way you almost didn’t notice. But all caution was thrown out the window when Wanda finally laid eyes on your half-naked body. It was black lace underwear that you were sporting, and all she could think about was how stunning you looked. She sat there for a while, frozen and heated, her eyes raking over every inch of your body. To think that you were wearing this underneath that goddamn dress this whole time, god, it makes her absolutely exasperated with desire.

"I’m getting a bit cold here, Professor," you smirk, your fingers trailing up her pants, finally meeting her undone belt once again. "Warm me up a little?"

"Yes ma’am," Wanda breathed out and nodded, her hand ghosting over your skin once more as you opened your arms and urged her to come closer—the sight causing her to melt and a question she didn’t even think twice about spilling from her mouth. "Can I fuck you? Please?"

Almost immediately, Wanda leaned down and pressed her face against your body, littering soft and hot kisses along your stomach, up the valley of your breasts, your collarbones, and to your neck. She would lick, suck, and kiss all over again, marking your skin with the prettiest bruises. You almost forget to answer her question when she starts kissing you, but she pleaded once more. To let her do whatever she wanted, just say the word, and she’ll make sure to make you feel so fucking good.

"Please," she begged you, whining only slightly as she kissed your neck. "Please, (Y/n). Please—I'll do anything, I—"

"Touch me there," you said, slipping your hand into hers to lead it down to your warm, clothed center. "Right there, Wanda."

You let her fingers press against the fabric, feeling how undeniably soaked you were. Without a second thought, Wanda immediately circles your clothed pussy with the pads of her fingers, just getting lost in the feeling of your wet heat. Her jaw slowly drops as she watches her own fingers play with your cunt. She pressed even harder the moment she finds your clit underneath the thin fabric and when you moaned, arching your back slightly in the process, she lost all self-control. You don’t even get a second to catch your breath as Wanda immediately starts clawing at your underwear, pulling your bra off of your chest in the quickest way possible. And, when she moved her hands back to your panties to uncover the very treasure she was yearning for, you suddenly heard an unmistakable sound—the sound of fabric tearing.

Your eyes widened in disbelief as Wanda stared at the torn piece of underwear in her hands, "Did you just—"

"I’m sorry." Then she kissed you to give you something else to think about other than the fact that she just ripped your precious, laced underwear.

"You ripped—"

She kissed you again, murmuring against your lips, "I’m sorry, baby."

"That was expensive, you know. I just got it last week," you said, rolling your eyes, wrapping your arms around her neck as she continued to kiss your skin all over again. And it was working—when you felt her lips kissing you and sucking on you, you could barely think about anything else.

The corner of Wanda’s lips turned upward at the thought of you buying lingerie just for her, "I said, I’m sorry. I’ll get you another one, I promise… But, right now, I really want to fuck you. I want to fuck you until you can't move. Let me make you feel better, baby? Please."

Wanda's plea hung in the air, her voice a desperate whisper filled with desire. When she turned to look back at you, she did so with an intensity that made your heart race even faster. Already blushing from the heat of the moment, you felt your cheeks grow even hotter and hotter. Your gaze locked onto Wanda's lidded eyes, and you could see clear as day the raw need inside of them.

Your lips parted, and a deep, crimson blush spread across your cheeks. With a soft voice, almost breathless, you finally gave in, "You’re lucky I like you, Professor."

You were going to say more, but you couldn’t help the gasp that fell from your lips when Wanda dips two fingers into your pussy without any warning. She could feel you tense up around her waist, and your hands moved to grip her biceps as she started pumping into you at a slow pace, easing her way up to a faster one. Wanda’s jaw dropped once again, moaning as she felt just how tight, warm, and wet you were around her fingers. She could feel every sliver of you, your spongy walls wrapping around her digits, and you gasping right into her ear. God, it was so perfect. You are so perfect. She could fuck you like this forever.

"Does that feel good?" she asked, looking up at you with lidded eyes while her fingers continued to make their way in and out, in and out.

"Yes, right there," you nod quickly, moaning in her ear as your grip on her arms got tighter, trying to hold on for dear life as Wanda gradually got faster and faster. "You feel so good inside of me, Wanda. So good—ah!"

The woman reveled in your praise, unable to hold back her own moans as she watched her fingers, glistening with your slick, sink deeper and deeper.

"You’re sucking my fingers in, baby." And you truly were. Her fingers are buried deep in your pussy, and almost immediately, she finds that weak, spongy spot inside of you and begins to torture that button. With your moans getting pounder and louder, she penetrates deep against it, groaning into your neck as she listens to the music of your moans and whimpers.

After a moment of getting lost in the heavenly sounds that were spilling from your mouth, Wanda pulls your leg over to your chest, pumping her fingers in and out at a much faster pace than before. With her digits accelerating in speed, your body jolts and your moans go up an octave as Wanda continued to fuck her fingers into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling her press against that sweet spot inside your pussy over and over again, building up to the climax she had been working diligently to witness. And finally, the band holding you together finally breaks, your body succumbing to one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had in your life. Wetness pools all over her hand, and your pussy clenches tightly around her fingers. Wanda melts at the sight of your trembling body and shaky legs as your hands grip onto her biceps even harder, trying to hold on as she helped you ride out your climax.

When you calmed down, legs trembling against her, Wanda carefully pulled her fingers out of you with a squelch. She stared down in awe at your wetness, glistening all over her fingers and dripping down her hand. With her lips parted and eyes glued, you could not help but smile as you were catching your breath, still a bit hazy from the orgasm she had just given you. When you felt like the professor was taking a bit longer than expected, you reached down and gently brought her hand close to your face, her eyes following as you did so. And when you opened your mouth, you dragged your tongue slowly over the length of her fingers, and all Wanda had the strength to do was watch.

"Fuck," Wanda breathed out as you licked her hand clean of your essence.

You pulled Wanda in by the neck to kiss her, and she groaned into your mouth when she tasted your juices on your tongue—the taste of how good she made you feel. After pulling away to catch your breath once more, Wanda made her way back down again, leaving kisses along your skin as she traveled to the heavenly space between your gorgeous legs. And with mere inches away, she could smell you, smell the taste of you, and it lingered on her tongue, only making her yearn for more. The scent of you floods her senses, and she leans in with lidded eyes, lost in the thought of having you come right into her mouth. God, she wanted it—she needed it.

She was so close—her mouth was so close. You were right there, all ready in her mind for the grand meal she was about to indulge herself in. And with a soft but firm hand holding her head back by her hair, you stopped her.

"Not yet," you told her, shaking your head slightly as your fingers threaded through her hair.

"What?" Wanda gives you another dazed look, confused and almost frustrated with the fact that you interrupted her on her way to a heavenly meal.

"Not yet," you repeated once again, louder and clearer, with a more demanding tone. "I want you to watch me."

With her eyebrows raising in surprise, Wanda wondered what it was you had in store for her, "Watch you?"

With a teasing smile, you took your hand off of Wanda’s head, slowly dragging your fingers against the inside of your thigh, then in between, the soft pads of your fingers meeting your clit. There was nothing else Wanda could keep her eyes on except the way you pressed softly onto your clit, with another moan slipping out. Your clit was wet and slippery, coated with your juices. You could feel her heavy breath against your pussy, just centimeters away from her face, and all Wanda could do was stare. The sound of your quiet whimpers filled her ears, and it took everything inside Wanda not to dive in, face first, into your heavenly heat.

You must’ve known. You must’ve known what you were doing; keeping her desperate and begging while also checking if she’d be good and obey. And although it was hard to keep away, Wanda followed your orders and watched. With her eyes stuck to that precious button you were torturing all by yourself, she couldn’t help but pant slightly, like an obedient dog waiting for its signal to start eating.

Soon, you were getting close all over again, and Wanda was disappointed that it was not her doing. Although your moans and whimpers were more than enough to fuel her desires, waiting to touch you almost became unbearable, but she remained still, her eyes still glued to your pretty pussy as you touched yourself.

"Let me—Let me touch you," Wanda pleaded, unable to take her eyes off of the way you were rubbing your fingers against your sensitive bundle of nerves. "Please, let me help."

"N-Not yet," you said again, your body writhing more and more as each second passed.

With a groan, Wanda dropped her head down against the plush, inside part of your thighs, holding you down as you chased your own high. She kept watching with her mouth open as she resisted each and every urge in her body that told her to ignore your order and just jump right in, but she held herself back. She didn’t even know how, but she knew that once you allowed her, you’d reward her with the best meal and orgasm you could ever give her.

And just as you were about to hit your peak, you let one word slip, "Now."

Wanda finally opened her mouth and let her tongue fall. Her jaw drops as she lets her tongue travel from the bottom to the top, dragging it through your folds and swirling it messily around your clit. The taste of you was as blissful as angels singing in her mouth, as if her tastebuds had been blessed by the gods themselves. Your cries and moans rested well on Wanda’s ears, doing nothing to stop her from eating you out so fervently. A pleasured groan fell from Wanda’s muffled mouth as you tugged harshly at her hair, Her breath was hot, and your pussy had you squirming beneath her. It was heaven for Wanda. God, she’d give everything if it meant being able to live the rest of her days down here, with her head between your legs and your pussy in her mouth. She’d be set for life.

Your poor clit was already so sensitive, and Wanda was lapping at you like a thirsty dog. Your precious brain couldn’t even focus anymore, and all you could think about was Wanda’s tongue. And because of how close you were just before she started, your orgasm started to build higher and higher in a matter of seconds. Her mouth showed no remorse, and the lewd noises only made you flush deeper. With her thighs squeezing her head between your thighs, Wanda devoured you, holding you still with ease despite your constant squirming. Then, she wrapped her mouth around your clit, and sucked, and sucked, and sucked, and sucked, until she had you screaming her name into the air as you came inside of her mouth.

And yet, she doesn’t stop.

"W-Wanda, I—"

"Not yet," she said, voice muffled as she continued to fuck you through your orgasm, her tongue swirling and licking every crevice in and out of your sex.

Your words die in your mouth, and you let out a squeal as she buries her tongue right into your pussy all over again, licking and swirling it inside of you as you whined about how it was too much for you to handle. But, she kept going anyway. And fuck, you felt incredible wrapped around her tongue; it drove Wanda insane. Your body was hot, trembling at the mercy of her touch, screaming out as Wanda continued to overstimulate you. She was now far from being gentle. How could she? When you had been teasing her all through the night with that slit in your dress and those eyes that were begging her to do something? Occasionally, she’d open her eyes to see you arching your back, screaming into the pillow, and it made Wanda moan against your pussy, the vibrations doing more to stimulate you.

With her eyes glued to your body as your legs tensed around her head and your stomach clenched as you moaned, Wanda whined and pushed herself further into you. Her hands were now spreading your folds open as she dragged her tongue up and down your fold before wrapping around your clit once more. Even when you finally gushed inside her mouth, she kept going, even with your entire body enveloped in shivers, as she savored each and every drop of your essence.

"I think–It’s too much—" you tried to say.

But, she just hit you with the same words all over again, "Not yet."

And she’d make you come a third time, then a fourth, then a fifth—until you couldn’t take it anymore. By the end of all of it, Wanda goes back up to your face, her heart racing faster as she sees your tear-stained cheeks and a lazy smile on your face as you try to look at her. She wipes them clean with her thumb and kisses them with her lips, using her other hand to calm your trembling body by running it along your quivering legs.

You reach out for her with a whimper, trying to grab hold of her, begging for her care as she soothes your body. Wanda smiles and re-kisses each bruise she left on you, all the way up until she makes it to your mouth. She kisses you softly and gently, and you can taste yourself right on her tongue. Nuzzling your face into her neck, Wanda pulls your body to lay on top of her, securing a tight and comforting hold on you as you began your drift to sleep.

It’s everything Wanda could have ever wanted—to be with you. It was perfect. You were perfect.

"You did so good, Wanda," you said sleepily into her skin, muffled as you spoke. "So good for me."

"I think I should be the one saying that, (Y/n)," she replied with a proud smile as she ran her hand through your hair. Eventually, her hand rested on your cheek, soothing her thumb over your skin as you began to let your eyes flutter closed at her soothing touch. "You are… so beautiful, darling… So perfect."

You almost fall asleep after a few seconds. Her touches, the feeling of her breathing, and the way her skin felt was everything you ever wanted and more. Wanda laid there with the same thought in her head, her heart filled with an overwhelming sense of love and contentment. As she gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, she couldn't imagine a more perfect moment.

“I have something for you,” you say, voice rasp and groggy as you moved reach something from the drawer of your side table. “It’s nothing special… it’s just… you keep losing your card, so..”

You couldn't help but feel a touch of nervousness. You had spent hours searching for the perfect gift, wanting to express you affection for Wanda in a meaningful way. Yet, when you were finally about to give it to her, you couldn't help but feel a bit shy about its simplicity.

But then, Wanda's eyes lit up with curiosity as she accepted the small box and carefully opened it. Inside, she found a cute red lanyard with a playful pattern, and her heart swelled with affection. She held it delicately in her hands, her fingers gently tracing the tiny pattern that adorned the fabric. It was a simple yet thoughtful gift, and she couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for you for choosing it.

Your shyness melted away, replaced by a radiant smile, as you watched Wanda’s joy. You couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth, knowing that your gift had brought a smile to the professor’s face.

Wanda turned towards you, her eyes soft with emotion and her heart full. She reached out and gently cupped your cheek with her hand, her thumb tenderly brushing against your skin. With a sweet and sincere smile, Wanda leaned in slowly, her lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. Your lips met like two puzzle pieces finally fitting together, and for that moment, the world seemed to fade away.

“It’s perfect,” Wanda says, unable to suppress the way her lips curved upward. “Thank you.”

Then, each day as you arrived for class, your heart couldn't help but skip a beat when you saw Wanda. What caught your attention immediately was the sight of the red lanyard that Wanda wore around her neck. It didn't matter if Wanda's outfit matched the lanyard or not; it was always there, a constant presence, and a sweet reminder of the thoughtful gift you had given her. On some days, it stood out vividly against Wanda's attire, a burst of color that added charm to her ensemble. On others, it contrasted playfully, a delightful pop of red against more subdued colors. But in any case, it was always there.

Over the next few weeks, You and Wanda found yourselves in a whirlwind of newfound affection and stolen moments. In the classroom, your glances became a language of your own. Wanda would catch your eye from across the room, and a playful yet affectionate smile would curve both yours and her lips. It was as if you shared an inside joke, one that no one else in the class could comprehend. As the days went by, their desire for each other grew. They were days off of stolen kisses, lingering glances, and shared smiles that only you could fully understand.

One day, in the middle of a lecture, Wanda couldn't resist the urge any longer. She discreetly slipped out of her seat and gently tugged at your hand, pulling you slightly behind and into a closet at the back of the room, out of sight from her classmates' curious eyes. With a mischievous smile and a twinkle in her eye, Wanda leaned in and pressed her lips against yours. It was soft and tender, a tantalizing taste of their affection that left both of you breathless. The classroom continued with the lecture, seemingly oblivious to the hidden exchange.

Yet, for Wanda, those stolen kisses were like sweet secrets shared only between the two of you.

— navigation!

[admirationandromantics]

Stress-reliever

Okay, so another request! I really like this one, and I had a lot of fun writing it too. Sorry it took so long, but I try to work at an acceptable pace. Anyways, this story is about reader having an assignment and being hella stressed because she can't understand anything. Josh, her friend, comes over because she doesn't answer any of his texts or calls and gets worried about how hard she's pushing herself. And he knows the best way for her to relax...

Word count: 3k (Unedited)

I let out a silent scream, slamming my fist into the book. Goodness sake, why was this so difficult? I look at my word count, and it’s nowhere near finished. I don’t even have a good point I’m writing about. Everything I’ve written before this has been great, or at least good. This was the exception. I don’t understand the lectures, I don’t understand the book, I don’t understand anything. No shit my essay would be trash. 

My phone start plinging, but I ignore it. I have to get this. Maybe I’ll read the chapter one more time. I’ve lost count on how many times I’ve already read it, but I don’t have anything better going for me. I tried youtube videos, getting someone to explain it to me, reading, writing, everything. This was stressing me out, and the deadline is in one week. I don’t have good sources, or backups. I can’t change the theme. 

The phone rings again, but this time, I put it on silent. I have to get this, I need to understand it. Maybe I need a breather? But I don’t have time. I stand up and walk to the window. I can at least get some fresh air inside, I deserve that. I click the lock, pulling the window open. The fresh winter breeze flows into my room, shuffling my papers and pulling my hair. The outside arena has been filled with water, making a large skating rink. A bunch of people are skating, some with families, some while holding hands. They’re probably all finished with tests, exams and deadlines. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the ice cold air. A shiver runs through me, and I take it as a sign to sit down again. This essay isn’t going to write itself. I correct my papers and open the book in the right chapter again. Just keep reading, just keep reading. I’ll get there eventually. 

***

A loud knock is heard on my door, pulling me out of my trance. I’ve written how much? 4 sentences? At this pace, I’ll have to pull all-nighters all week. Someone knocks on the door again, and I check the time. It’s late, not too late, but who would be here at this time? I get up from the desk, walking to the door and unlocking it. Outside in the hall, Josh is standing with his stupidly cute smile and a plastic bag. 

“Josh” I sigh weakly, hugging him while putting all my weight on him. I’m so tired, so stressed and sick of my studies. 

“You look horrible” he whispers back, hands going around me to stop me from falling on the floor. 

“Thank you, I appreciate it” 

“Have you been outside today?” 

I look up at him, giving a guilty smile. He sees right through me and rolls his eyes. I let go, opening the door wider to let him in. 

“Brough you take-out, figured you were too obsessed with whatever you’re doing that you haven’t eaten”

“You’re an angel” 

“I know” he smiles, putting the bag down and pulling off his jacket. He goes to sit in my desk chair, glancing over all my notes. 

“Hard stuff” he grabs a paper, reading quickly over the highlighted lines. I turn to the food, taking out the different boxes. Chinese food, how sweet of him. 

“I’ve never been this stressed in my entire life” I complain, my neck sore and eyes tired. I grab a roll, eating it quickly. I’m apparently very hungry too. 

“You know, I actually wrote about how stress affects-” 

“Stop!” 

“What?”

“I don’t want to hear about how it’ll kill me, you psychology majors are insane with your theories” 

“It’s not a theory”

“Do you really think knowing this will help me or stress me out more”

“Yeah, you’re right” 

I take another roll, sitting down on the bed and eating it. 

“You know, you could do something more stress-relieving…”

He’s smiling, but I don’t know why. I don’t have time to do anything else right now. But, if it worked, I’d probably understand and write much faster. The offer is tempting. 

“Like what?”

“Well, according to your stress-patterns you-”

“Don’t psycho-analyze me” I threaten, pointing a finger at him, my hand now empty again. He puts his hands up, smirking. That stupid smirk. 

“Fine, okay. Let’s think of normal things then… taking a hot bath”

“I showered this morning” 

“It’s not to get clean, it’s to relax” 

“No, next” 

He shrugs, shaking his head in disbelief. I know I’m difficult, but he’s still here, so I haven’t cracked him yet. 

“Go for a walk?”

I laugh at him. No way I’m going somewhere, and when inspiration strikes I’m not there to take advantage of it. It might hit when I’m 20 minutes from home, and when I get back, it’ll be dead. 

“How about I put it this way Josh… I’m NOT leaving my room” 

He thinks hard, trying to come up with something. I subtle darkness coats his eyes as he looks up at me again, and I smile, intrigued by what he’s come up with. 

“I can only think of one more thing” 

“And that is?” 

He opens his mouth, but stops himself and snickers. I’m left in the dark. 

“Nah, you probably wouldn’t want to” 

I look around confused, throwing my hands out. I’m literally open to anything as long as I can relax a bit. 

“Oh, please tell me, I’m desperate” I whine jokingly, making him laugh. 

“Oh really? How desperate?” 

“Incredibly desperate, I’ll do anything” 

“Anything?” he asks, and I can already sense that I’ll regret saying it. He leans forward, loving that he knows about this secret thing which I don’t. God, he’s a prick. 

“Yes, now tell me” I urge, my curiosity overwhelming. 

“Fine, okay” he leans back on the chair, looking me up and down. “I mean, I could help you relax a bit” 

“With what?” 

“Jesus Christ” 

“Will you just tell me Josh?” 

He stands up, making his way over and cornering me with his arms. Oh. Ooooh… I heat up just from the thought, getting wetter by the second as I think about all the erotic possibilities of this encounter. 

That’s what he meant. I almost feel stupid for not getting it at first. But I have to remember that we’re friends, and this is a very intimate act. Would I really want to jeopardise our friendship for an essay? I already feel my body betraying me, heart racing quicker than my thoughts. 

My body gets the better of me, and I lean into him, capturing his lips and throwing my arms around him. He doesn’t waste time, returning the favour and leaning over me, pushing me back on the bed. Hand goes to my thigh, lifting my leg up. He places himself in between them, staying over me with the help of his other hand. A tight squeeze over my knee makes me gasp, and he uses the opportunity to put his tongue in my mouth. He explores all of me, touching in all the right places, occasionally rubbing where he senses I feel weaker. I pour all my tension into him, another form of it building up in my stomach, begging to be satisfied. 

“Josh…” 

He doesn’t stop, mouth instead moving to my neck as he kisses and sucks. 

“Tell me if you want to stop” he whispers against my skin. I don’t want to stop. I’ve wanted this for a long time, and using my stress as an excuse? I don’t know what will happen after this, but I do know that I want to fuck him. For as long as possible. 

He hits my spot under my jaw, making a loud involuntary moan escape my lips. I feel him smirk against my skin before biting down. My hand immediately flies to my mouth. It would not be good for me if the other people in the nearby dorms heard me. 

“I want to hear you” He’s quick to take hold of my hand, trapping it over my head, pressing my whole body down on the mattress. God he’s hot, I’ve never seen this side of him. I always thought he was ‘just talk no action’, but apparently I was wrong. 

“Fuck” I whimper, feeling messy and needy for him. He knew what he was doing, and it was working a little too well. 

“All my calls, all my texts, everything left unanswered…” 

“I was studying” I breathe out, voice high on ecstasy. His knee goes between my legs, and I lean against him, letting myself grind down on his leg. 

“Was it not just a trick to get me here? Don’t think for one second I haven’t seen those glances you give me when you think I’m not watching” 

“Josh…” 

“Don’t worry, when I’m finished with you, you wouldn’t  have to be so secretive anymore” 

He grabs the hem of my sweater, making me sit up a bit to drag it off. I’ve been home alone all day, so a bra was not necessary, leaving me half naked, the cold winter air from the window making my nipples hard. 

“Oh lord…” 

“Not gonna even the playing field?” I tease, tugging at his shirt. He laughs and unbuttons it, undressing quickly and throwing the garment on the floor. He does the same with his belt, dragging it off his jeans and leaving it on the floor. I feel a tug on the bottom of my pants, and he drags them off with ease, leaving me only in my panties. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful” he comments, laying himself on top of me again and capturing my lips on his. I feel around his upper body, gracing each curve and muscle. My hands wander to his back, pulling him closer, making him lay more of his weight on me. The kisses get wetter and sloppier as we keep going, my pulse going faster than ever before. I pull away a little, needing to take a breath. He uses the opportunity to work on my chest, kissing down my collar and groping my chest. His mouth keeps sucking, leaving dark marks all over my upper body. 

“Josh, please” I whimper, feeling the need overcome me. This is too much, I need him down there, fucking me senseless, just as I’ve always wished for. 

“I love hearing my name coming out of those pretty lips of yours” 

He moves lower, kissing the inside of my thighs and stroking my folds over the soaked fabric. 

“You’ve been wanting this for a long time haven’t you?”

I take a couple of deep breaths before answering, my body dysfunctional from all the waiting and different types of simulations. 

“Y-yes I have” 

“And you finally got what you wanted”

“Please” 

He raises his head, looking up at me. That stupid smirk is still plastered on his face as he’s come face to face with the reactions he gets out of me. 

“Say it again” There’s no use fighting him, my body begging to be touched. 

“Please” 

“Again” 

“Josh, please” 

“As you wish” 

His head goes down again, biting and licking my thigh as his fingers slowly drags my underwear off. It falls off my feet, and his tongue takes a long lick over my folds. My immediate reaction is to close my legs, but his hands stop me, holding both of them in their place. He takes a chance, one of his hands moving to my heat, stroking over the wet area. 

“You’re already so ready for me” 

His tongue finds its way to my clit, licking soft circles as one of his fingers moves inside me, curling upwards. My legs jolt again, but he doesn’t mind, instead keeps pumping his finger and getting me off with his tongue. I feel my edge come closer, and I try to hold it, not wanting to come so incredibly fast. 

“I know you’re holding back dear” 

I try to come with a reply, but it leaves my lips as incoherent erotic melodies, going in tact with his rhythm. He takes out his hand, relieving some of the pressure which is begging to be let out. I try to steady my breathing, but am interrupted as he puts another finger in, filling me even more up. His tongue applies more pressure than before, and I can’t control myself as I come all over him, spilling my juices down his fingers and lips. 

I take deep breaths, ecstasy washing over while throwing my head back. Fuck he’s good. I feel my legs twitch from all the action, pent up stress and energy leaving my body as the high lowers. 

I hear something hitting the floor, and look up to find him standing in front of me. Naked. Big. Holy shit, how am I supposed to take that. 

“You look scared” he smiles, going on top of me once again, giving me sweet kisses. I taste myself on him, but the passionate nature of it is almost… romantic. 

“Just, surprised” I manage to breathe out. 

“Oh, you haven’t seen nothing yet” he teases, giving me another passionate kiss. His dick graces over my folds, coating itself in my last high. His hand goes down to adjust himself, but before he inserts himself, he looks down at my flushed face, waiting for something. 

“You want this?” 

“Yes I fucking want this, Josh please” 

He doesn’t need to hear anything else, slowly inserting himself in me. I throw my head back, feeling him fill me up, widening my walls. He groans as he keeps going, letting out a deep breath as he’s all in. He waits a couple of seconds, still holding himself up over me. 

“Fuck, you feel so good” he exclaims, cheeks red and breath heavy. 

“Please keep going” I urge him, and he starts moving. Slowly going out and slamming deep into me again. It takes a couple of pushes for him to get his rhythm back. The room fills with both our moans, and I pull him down, killing some of them on our lips. 

He takes hold of my thigh, pulling my whole leg up, letting himself deeper inside. My nails scratch his back as he keeps going, both of our orgasms building up. I hold on to him, chest against chest, his pelvis rubbing against me as he slams himself in and out. 

“Let me ride you” I whisper, and he stops for a bit, taken aback by my request. 

“You sure?” 

“Get on your back” I breathe out, trying to sound stern. My tone fails me, and I just sound desperate instead, but I don’t mind. I want him, I need him. He obliges, laying down on his back. I move on top of him, and he looks up at me, mouth agape and eyes blank. He’s so turned on, so hard and so desperate. Probably as needy as me. I steady myself, lowering my body onto him, letting him inside. I bit my lip to stop my noises, feeling him go deeper than before. 

I watch his face, cheeks still pink and skin shiny. His mouth keeps opening, letting out the most vulnerable sound I’ve ever heard from him. 

“And I thought you looked good on top” I start, feeling a smirk find its way to my lips. “Turns out you’re even better under me” 

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come” he whimpers, grabbing hold of my thigh, bouncing me up and down on him. 

“That’s the goal” I lean down, kissing his collar and neck while still bouncing my ass on him. 

“You’re so incredibly hot” 

His grip tightens, probably leaving red marks which’ll last for days. I feel my core building up, getting awfully hot and tight. 

“Josh, I’m going t-”

“Do it, do it” 

I can’t hold myself, coming all over his cock, tightening around him. I give a cry, body sweaty and hot as I try to keep the rhythm going. The pain starts getting to me, the cause of overstimulation and exhaustion. He notices, and uses his hips and arms to turn us around. 

I slam back into the maddress, my breath being knocked out of me. I don’t get time to regain it as Josh ups his pace, slamming into me harder and faster. I grip the sheets, trying to stay grounded as I feel my whole body rocking back and forth. He leans forward, intertwining my hand in his, while still keeping up the pace. I grip his hand hard, tension building up again as he uses the other to rub my clit. 

“I love you like this, all fucked out” he whispers, making me tighter. I wince as I come another time, pain and pleasure shooting through me. I’ve lost feeling in my legs, letting them hang weakly around his waist. He grunts and moans, burying himself in me as he reaches his orgasm. I feel him twitch inside me, sloppily pulling out as he collapses beside me. His hand goes to my chin, turning my head towards him before leaning forward for a kiss. I let him, sinking into the small action. 

“Still stressed?”

“More exhausted, but no, I’m not stressed” I explain, slowly regaining control of my pulse. 

“Need a power-nap?” I nod, and he walks to the bathroom, coming back with a warm wet cloth and cleaning me up. We both drag ourselves to the top of the bed, getting under the covers and relaxing. I lean into him, feeling his body sink down. 

I think about the essay, everything I could’ve done in the time we fucked. The theme is hard, and the texts are difficult, but… Shit!

“Omg” I exclaim, sitting up. 

“What, is something wrong?” he asks, looking up at me with concern. I stand up, walk to the desk and grab my computer before laying down with him on the bed again. 

“I suddenly understood this one passage” I exclaim, not feeling that tired anymore. I actually understood something! Finally! 

I open the computer, and start typing on the related paragraph. This was gonna be good, I could finally get the parallel I wanted, and compare it to the subtext. 

“Well, I’ll be laying right here if you need me again” he makes himself comfortable, kissing my chin and letting his fingers rub soft circles on my arm. 

[jjks1ut]

Need Help?

pairing: nanami x reader

summary:with the upcoming test you have for biology your boyfriend has quite the sly way to help you study.

cw:explicit content, edging, cockwarming, pet names, sexual tension, fingering, spanking, overstimulation, praise, teasing

a/n:here I am with some more jjk content since I've been lacking in my posting for the past few months with school and all, hope this is a read you can all enjoy as always ;)

You still can’t believe how you ended up here, but there you were nestled on Nanami’s lap at his place with his cock right there at the walls of your clenching wet pussy. There you sat with all your clothes strewn into some pile on the floor while he sat there practically half clothed giving you that ever so smug look while you mercilessly begged for his pleasure barely able to move with the tight grip he held at your waist. 

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

You had just left your last class for the evening on a regular Friday night, it was the perfect time to be hanging out with friends and probably even get wasted at a club or two. But, with your most recent grade in biology dropping down to a 50% you grew a little concerned with the possibility of failing the next assessment that would be just the following Monday.

‘I advise you get yourself situated with a tutor.’,was your biology teacher's last words to you as she handed out the papers on your way to leave the lecture hall.

“What an asshole”, you thought to yourself as you made your way from the train station as you texted your boyfriend furiously about your frustration with the professor’s attitude.

 ‘Omg Kento I can’t believe my professor and her damn attitude, I know I need a tutor with my grade and all but she doesn’t have to be in my ass about it :(‘.  You texted him and like always you could already see he had read the message and was ready to respond in a matter of seconds.

‘Your grade? Are you failing a class?’, he had texted you, and you could already feel the overbearing concern from his side.

It had been known from the start of your relationship but your boyfriend Kento Nanami was a nerd, almost like the ones in movies. Constantly studying, always in the library, and you could never catch this man with a late assignment. Even if he was practically on his deathbed he would make sure he turned in that one history essay. 

And funny enough the way you two first met had been through him as your tutor in the first place when through enough sessions together you found yourselves in a heated make our session somewhere buried in the back shelves of the college’s library.

‘It’s nothing, it's just a simple 50%. The semester only started so by my next exam I should be able to fix it’, you texted back trying to make excuses for your poor scores, but you knew Kento wasn’t there for that bull where you would constantly procrastinate. 

As a new message flew into your inbox.

‘Cancel any plans you have, you're coming over to my place later to study’, he had texted back. 

‘Take a nap or whatever you need to do, I want you over before 7’, Nanami added as well. It was a strange request that even made you a little frustrated at how he was trying to order you around. 

Even so, you always enjoyed a good time at your boyfriend’s place. And, who knows, probably you’ll get something out of it by the end of the night ;).

So there you were just having woken up from a nap an hour prior as you began to get yourself ready. Luckily, you didn’t mind coming over either as you two lived just a block or two away as in just a matter of minutes you were already in front of his door ringing his bell.

“Hey”, he gave you a soft smile before wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in for a soft kiss on the cheek. 

He may have been strict when it came to work and how he felt about grades but he wasn’t an asshole. He cared about you to the fullest extent he could at the end of the day

So As Kento was helping you with your jacket, put it in some closet nearby you could see he was clearly serious about studying. There across his coffee table in his living room was filled with worksheets, and even some books on the subject of biology. “Oh you meant actual studying?”, you whispered under your breath not even realizing he heard you. 

“What did you think we were doing?”. He questioned taking a quick look over his shoulder as he was bringing you two drinks back over to the coffee table as he made himself comfortable next to you.

“No nothing Nanami”, you laughed softly which coaxed a small smile as well from his previously stern expression. “Well, have some liquids in your system I know we’re gonna be doing a lot of talking”, he jokes back as he hands you your drink. 

“Oh shut up”, you teased back but taking the beverage even so.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“Nanamiii, can we go on break.”, you whined to him as you dropped your pencil on the coffee table sitting back to give Nanami your best puppy dog eyes. You were sitting beside him on the couch only an hour and a few minutes into the study sesh yet already on your 10th break. But come on it wasn’t your fault when your hot ass boyfriend was right beside you watching you keenly as you worked. Like how the fuck were you supposed to focus when all that fogged your mind was thoughts of him.

From the way his well manicured yet veiny hands ran over your workbook reading over your work. The way he would constantly reassure you as his fingers ran long and languid movements along your spine bringing an ache to your core.

All these actions left you with nothing but scenarios of him fucking you from behind right there on that couch, kissing down your neck as his hands ran along your thighs, anything would make you calmer if it wasn’t for how handsome Nanami was even minding his own business.

“Are you listening?”, he called out as his palm was over your thigh, pinching it softly to catch your attention. You could see on his face he was slightly worried but a bit of annoyance lied in his face as well.  “It’s only been an hour since we started and at least 80% was spent on these breaks”, he frowned.

It killed you to see Nanami this way  when the last thing you wanted to do was piss him off. “I'm sorry it’s just I can’t focus alright? From the worksheets to the flashcards, do you have any other methods?” You spoke up as you watched a small grin form on his face and even a suspicious bulge peeking from the zipper at his pants.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

So there it finally was as Nanami’s cock was buried deep within the brim of your walls. “So remind me what the calvin cycle is, hm?”Nanami whispered low as his finger took a casual flick at your aching clit that was begging for his touch as he continued to edge you even so.

“N- Namai?, please you know I-,” you whimper. This had been going on for a third of an hour or so. Nanami would ask you a question from your study sheet he had set up for you  and you would answer. simple, right?

And without you even being able to finish your sentence another firm slap landed on your bare ass as he had slipped off your pants from earlier. 

“Wrong”, he spoke cockily. You knew your boyfriend was more experienced then he put on, as even during your first time together you never expected all that he had done that night. But what was happening here was nothing compared to the original Nanami you saw in this bedroom. Usually he was such a caring lover as he catered to all your possible needs during your passionate nights. 

Now a contrast was brought as Nanami was showing pure dominance not taking any of your whiny pleads as he brought another snap that you had mewling his name like a bitch in heat.

“Don’t act like you don’t like this, either way you better prepare yourself because until you can remember this entire sheet we’re gonna keep at this” he continued on forcing you to look right at him as if tears weren’t rolling right off your pretty little eyes. With his words you nodded as he gladly wiped your tears with a small comforting smile, “Good girl”.

“So tell me what's binary fission?”, he now asked as you tried your best even in your fuzzy thoughts brimmed with the feeling of Nanami’s member throbbing from inside you. “Um, does it have to do with things with a single cell”, you huffed out as you could already feel the way your legs shaked and quivered as you tried to hold yourself up with the firm grip he held at your waist, and you could already feel your eyelids grow heavy just the same.

Yet Nanami notices quickly moves his hands to your hips and pushes you up, so that you're around halfway down on his cock. you let out a small shudder, and you can tell your almost there just is not correct yet. “And, what else”, he spoke as he pulled your face in close with a firm grip on your scalp.

“Reproducing”, you answer immediately and almost just as fast you're rewarded. Nanami allows you to ride him again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your boyfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. And the entire time you watch as he eyes your eager appearance as he pulls you in from that pull he had on the back of your head for a sloppy and heeded kiss.

“Nanami~, I want more-”, you whimpered as you grinded up against him eagerly but the moment was quickly stopped as he grabbed at your hips again and brought a slap down on your ass once more. “Fuck-, just answer the next question and we can finish for tonight”, he groaned close to letting you keep up with your grind on his cock. 

Nanami knew this was supposed to be a sort of punishment for your lack of focus but your pretty face ever so ruined by the smear of your runny makeup, your perfect bare body out in the open for him to use as he pleased, at this point fuck the work he wanted you right over this coffee table fuckong your brains out. 

“Tell me what a cell is.”, he asked, simply giving you a confused look. “But, Nanami, that's not on the-”. Quietly your words are shut down with another smack as you whimper at the slam against your rear.

“Just answer the fuckin question”, he practically begged you, so once you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of the answer Nanami can’t even care if its right.

From there you’re bent over the coffee table as your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out your dumbfounded words of pleasure.

:)

“We should study like this more often”, he chuckles as you curled up against his chest as you were watching some stupid movie on the tv in front of you two. 

“I bet you remember way more now.” 

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR ELEVEN

in which a line is crossed, and a lie is told.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut, upside down does not exist, fingering, oral (m receiving, allusions to f receiving), p in v (be like eddie and r! use protection!), use of mean nicknames (slut), ass slapping, hair pulling, minors dni

→ wc: 7.5k+

→ a/n: the smut has arrived! shout out to @abibliophobiaa and @myosotisa my loves for helping me, but also horny hours in general haha. the pep talks were very much needed and very appreciated.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

11:00 ──────ㅇ─────────── 24:00

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

A drink. What you need is a drink. 

The moment Robin and Steve brought up the small get together, you’d agreed instinctually. It had been a long month, hard and full of life throwing unexpected punches your way, and the only way you could think to soothe it was with terrible mixed drinks in your friend’s kitchen. 

First, it had been the tire on your bike popping. Which in itself wasn’t a catastrophe, but you realized very quickly that going out and about around campus was nearly impossible on foot. You’d shown up to most classes late, not adjusting for the fact you were far slower when walking across campus than you were riding. And then it was your classes; the teachers were already upset as it was in your smaller classes regarding your perpetual tardiness, but to top it all off, every assignment seemed to not be enough. No matter what you submitted, what changes you made to essays sent back to you, it was becoming more impossible to maintain a resemblance of a respectable GPA. You’d nearly flunked a test in your humanities class, when you’d asked for a professor to go back a slide for notes they’d glared and refused the reasonable request. When you’d not understood a question on your literature homework and sent an email plenty of days in advance, the teacher only got back to you once the due date had passed. 

And the dates. The terrible, terrible dates of the month. 

There was the first guy, who had been kind enough. A simple meeting over coffee and by the time the lattes were cold, you knew there’d be no second date. That was fine. You could live with that.

The second guy had more potential. A first date in a bar was almost a red flag, but after a fun game of pool, you’d agreed to meet again. The second date was at a restaurant that you learned he’d taken his ex-girlfriend to; actually, you’d learned a bit too much about his ex-girlfriend that night. She was the only thing he could talk about, and when you’d later explained that over text for being your reason against a third date, he’d called you every crude name in the book. 

And the final guy. A guy you’d really liked, that you’d been messaging back and forth since a month before. He was a busy guy, a bartender and full time student, and you understood – you really did. But he was charismatic and lured you in over the phone, and you hadn’t been so giddy for a date in a while. It felt like there were sparks, like he might be the one.

He didn’t show up. Last night, you’d sat like a fool at the restaurant you two agreed upon for two hours before realizing he wasn’t showing. Sipped your way through two ciders, even picked on an appetizer of fries, telling yourself he’d show up. He was just busy. He’d show up. 

He never showed up. He didn’t even text you. The waiter had waived your bill for the night, but his look of pity only made your stomach twist worse. 

Pathetic. You felt pathetic. 

“We’re all getting together at my place tonight,” Steve had whispered to you during class that morning as you two were packing up things as the lecture ended, “Everyone’s just going to hang out, drink, let loose. You should come.” 

And so you came, overly optimistic about the entire idea. You didn’t even think to ask if Eddie was going to be here – even he couldn’t dampen your excitement at a break after the month you’d had, even with his recent mean streak. 

Mean. You’d never thought after that first night you’d be able to describe him that way. Cold, sure. Callous, perhaps. Indifferent, of course. But mean? Mean didn’t seem like something others saw Eddie as genuinely capable of. Steve always ranted about how good of a guy he was, Robin would tell fun stories of nights out with him and how much of a good time he was, Nancy considered the guy her best friend. You knew your new friends, and you didn’t take them as being the type to befriend someone so unkind. 

But you didn’t see the good guy, the fun guy, the best friend. Whenever Eddie Munson was around you, his guard was up and his words were sharp. They cut through your unbridled disappointment with ease, reminding you that you were not his friend. You weren’t even sure if you were an acquaintance. 

And sure, you took it too far at the diner. You could admit that, even before Robin scolded you. But to see him sitting with someone not from your friend group, to see him being so kind and endearing to someone new, had burned you with fury like no other. If he could treat some blonde he’d surely matched with on a dating app so sweetly, why couldn’t he afford you the same warmth? Someone he saw nearly weekly? 

So you went for blood. Except, you were the only one wounded in the end, after the silent treatment you’d had to endure as you watched Eddie clench his jaw and pretend you didn’t exist. 

“What are you drinking tonight?” Steve smiles when you enter his kitchen, brows still furrowed in careful thought over your miserable month, “I’m guessing something strong?” 

“The strongest thing you’ve got, Harrington,” you reply, trying to shake back into excitement. It was going to be fun. You were going to drink with friends, partake in silly conversations no one would remember come morning, and you were going to have fun. 

Steve holds up a bottle of vodka, a name brand you don’t care to acknowledge, along with a 2-liter of Coke, “Think this’ll work?” 

You nod, and he pours. When he hands you the crystal cup reeking of overpoured alcohol, you take a sip and nod. 

Oh, yeah. Two of these and I won’t even remember Mr. Stood-Me-Up. 

“I heard about your date,” Steve means well, but the reminder is the exact opposite of what you want. You’re quick to glare at Robin, who throws her hands up in defense. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you quip, taking a larger second sip. If you weren’t trying to pace yourself, you’d probably chug the entire thing, “Not much to talk about, anyways. Got some free food and alcohol out of it, at least.” 

“That’s good! I bet you dodged a bullet.”

I probably didn’t. “We can only hope.” 

Steve pours himself a drink as well as Robin, and you can hear Nancy and Jonathan already chattering in the living room. No sign of Eddie so far. Maybe he wasn’t coming, and you’d finally caught a break. 

“To forgetting the names of men who suck,” Steve chides as he raises his glass, and Robin mirrors him. You hesitate for a moment, a fraction of a second.

You were starting to believe it wasn’t them, it was you. You were the common denominator of all the terrible dates. Did sparks not fly with the Coffee Boy because you dampened the fuse? Was two-date-chump only talking to you about his exes because you didn’t provide anything interesting enough to take his mind off them? Surely, it had to be your fault that you were stood up the night before. Surely. 

You pull from your pity party, and nimbly raise your glass. The rim hardly brushes that of your friends’ cups, but you all throw back your poisons of choice regardless. They don’t seem to notice the way you’ve begun to float within your head, the way you’re crashing through violent waves of pathetic self-hatred. 

It was you. You’re the problem, and you’re the only one who can solve it. Eventually. 

Robin is dramatically gagging on what you think might be redbull and vodka as Steve silently grimaces at his straight whiskey, clearing his throat before he says, “Okay, I know you don’t want to talk about last night, but Robin mentioned you’ve had a few dates this last month. Anything worth sharing? Any luck?” 

There’s a snappy remark of clearly not on the tip of your tongue when the doorbell rings down the hall, and the three of you all turn your heads as Nancy calls out that she’s got it. 

—

HOUR ELEVEN - 2:00 AM

Once Eddie starts kissing you, he can’t stop. 

It isn’t soft, nor caring – the moment his hands meet the flesh of your hips, it’s bruising. He doesn’t even break for air as he fumbles with the knob blindly, giving a final twist of his keys before the door swings open behind you and the two of you stumble backwards into the sanctuary of his apartment. It’s all teeth, it’s all desperation, it’s the accumulation of a year of snide remarks and low-blow insults all coming to head as he kicks the door shut behind you and spins so that your back meets the wood. 

Your hands are tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck and– oh God, when did you reach up and grab at his hair in the first place? 

He groans at the force of your fist, and it suddenly doesn’t matter. You don’t care how they got there – you only care to keep them there. 

He finally breaks the kiss, spit trailing between your lips as you both gasp out breaths, “You-” he dives back in, capturing your lips between his in a harsh and quick action before another break, “fucking-” another break, another gasp. He remains close enough that each harsh exhale flows right into your mouth, down your throat and into your lungs, “infuriate-” this time, he pauses, not moving back in for another kiss as his forehead is pressed hard against yours, eyes wide open and boring into yours, “me.” 

The venom that laces the words don’t scare you. It’s all verbal aposematism, rehearsed and practiced hatred that bears no weight, not anymore. Not as his hips are digging into yours and another tug of his hair has him putty in your hands. 

You know the dance well. You know the next step. 

“Good.” 

His next kiss is even more vicious, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip and making you whine into him, one hand finally unraveling from his curls to find purchase in fisting the leather of his jacket. There’s a fine line that neither of you are daring to cross, only toeing as teeth and tongues clash. 

This time, when he pulls away, you’re the one chasing after him. You don’t care about breathing; you care about his lips on yours, sucking all the smoke and oxygen from your lungs. 

 He’s the one to finally cross the line. A hand comes up to your throat, not nearly as rough as it should be, as he keeps you in place with the back of your head pressed to his front door. A pleading mewl leaves your lips of its own accord.

 “Oh, sweetheart, don’t be so desperate.”

The line’s been crossed, the chords all snapping between you two. There are no invisible strings tying you to the man before you, the man that has you aching between your trembling thighs and erratic breaths. Only gravity.

“Me? Desperate?” your voice nearly fails you as you lean into his touch surrounding your throat, preening forward so that your lips brush his, “I’m not the one fucking off to porn magazines that look like you, pretty boy.” 

You’re both on the same side of the line now as you watch his eyes darken. It’s a sensitive topic, a bruise you’ve chosen to prod out in the hopes that he’ll break at the same alarming rate as you. 

You need him to fuck you. You need him to use you, to throw any caution or revelations to the wind. You want him to push you so far you can’t remember your own name, let alone all the emotions that travel the channels between you. 

“Think you can do any better than my hand, baby?” he questions as he buries his head into the crook of your shoulder, breath and lips leaving a buzz along the skin he comes in contact with. His fingers tighten ever so slightly, and your head rushes with a weightless bliss. 

Your pulse is against his thumb, drumming beneath the pressure of it as you reply, “Do you think you can do any better than mine?” 

A dozen insinuations layer the words, and he catches every single one. Your lashes flutter into your eyesight, lids growing heavy as he lifts his face from your shoulder and looks at you wickedly, grin spreading treacherously. 

“Are you trying to tell me you touch yourself to me?” he taunts, pressing closer, “You thinkin’ of me at night when you get lonely, all desperate and pathetic, wrapped up in your own sheets? Do you wish it was my fingers, and not yours?” 

Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. “In your dreams, Munson.” 

“Of course,” he chuckles, “I thought that was a given. Don’t tell me you’re so dumb you’ve figured out I get myself off to your lookalikes, but not that I dream about you, sweetheart.” 

The thought of it makes your stomach flutter, your thighs clench. He’s quick to shove his knee between your legs, letting you drop so that your crotch nearly brushes his thigh. But the distance remains and no relief from friction comes, he makes sure of it as his fingers finally lift slightly, letting the blood rush back to your head and into your cheeks. 

“Is that what you were thinking about in the bathroom?” 

His movements finally falter. You almost have the upperhand again, you almost have him back in your palms, back down to your height in cockiness. 

You take his silence in stride, a smirk gracing your own face, “Oh, you were, weren’t you?” you pause, and drop a hand to his torso, nails raking over his shirt and making him suck in a sharp breath, “You thought I wouldn’t hear? You were being so awfully loud, y’know. Surprised you didn’t say my name.”

He breathes back to life, hand unwrapping from your throat to grip your chin, his thumb just barely making contact with your bottom lip as he tugs softly, “You would have fuckin’ liked that, wouldn’t you? As if I didn’t feel you get so hot and bothered by me on the bike,” it’s your turn to freeze, realizing your fears were valid, and he laughs lowly, “Oh, yeah, baby. I felt that. Hard to miss when you were clinging to me like I was your goddamn savior. What were you thinking about, hm? I bet you were thinkin’ about just that – me moaning for you, cumming for you. I bet it drove you fucking crazy, didn’t it?” 

“What were you thinking about in the bathroom?” you whisper as his thumb presses harder into your lip, “Show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” 

Your hand finally drops to its destination, cupping him through his sweatpants, wrapping around his girth. 

He’s big. Bigger than you had expected, and he knows you’re shocked by the way you still once more, cocking his head at you with the utmost confidence. 

He’s fucking lucky to be packing. It’d be a shame to be such an asshole and not have the ability to back up all his talk. 

“You want me to be honest right now?” he asks, a thread of seriousness binding his words. You don’t hesitate to nod, even with his grip on your chin, “I was thinking about your mouth. Thinking about those pretty lips wrapped around my cock. I was thinking about you on your knees and those eyes looking up at me, all teary as I fucked your mouth.” 

Your grip on him tightens, and you make the daring move to suck the tip of his thumb into your mouth, making eye contact as your tongue swirls around it. 

“Fuck me,” he groans, throwing his head back, his grip immediately falling slack on your face. You see the opportunity and take it, surging forward to latch your lips onto his exposed neck. You start with light kisses, pressing them in rapid succession down the vein that lays poorly hidden by the stretched skin, pausing once you get closer to where the expanse meets his jaw.

“I’m trying to,” you taunt before sucking hard. 

He moans loudly, echoing off the walls of his apartment, the hand still on your waist turning into an even more impossibly tight grip. The hand that once held your face has come up to tangle in your hair, gripping you by the roots and pulling you away just as the blood vessels on the surface have burst and bloomed in full shades of red and pink. 

Your scalp burns as he pulls you to be face to face with him, eyes hard as you keep your hand on his clothed dick. You can feel him twitch as your palm at him, no longer caring about being desperate. You were desperate. You wanted him to give up the game, set aside the chase, and ruin you. You wanted his neighbors to hear as you chanted his name like a prayer, as every memory of every reason as to why you resented him fled your system with each thrust of his hips that could pin you to the wall. 

“Is that what you want?” he’s no longer teasing you, his tone sounding as if he were asking for permission now rather than taunting you any further, “You want me to ruin you, sweetheart?” 

The chase is nearing its end, and you nearly shatter with anticipation. 

With one last trick up your sleeve, one last attempt to break him, you shrug as if you aren’t flushed and terribly flustered to the point of no return, “I guess. That’s one way to pass the time.” 

When he breaks, it is sudden, and it is unkind. One moment, your break is aching from being pressed against wood, and your core is throbbing as you consider dropping to his thigh to find your own relief. The next, he’s throwing you around carelessly as his mouth slots to yours once more. 

Just as it doesn’t matter how your hands found their way into his hair, it doesn’t matter how he pulls you from the door and navigates you to his couch. Your mind isn’t focused on where your body ends up, it’s focused on the feeling of his lips, chapped and pressing to yours eagerly. It’s focused on the way that the weight of his hands pressed tightly to your lower back feels. It’s focused on the overwhelming spice of his cologne, the smell of the night air still clinging to his cheek, the taste of his salt water as you dive under and let yourself begin to drown. 

He’s consuming you, lungs and all. Limbs and all. Mind and all. 

It’s a bad decision. This is going to be both of your downfalls, and you should stop before it goes too far.

You don’t stop it. Neither does he. All he does is throw you down to sit on his couch as he falls to his knees in front of you, bringing a palm to each knee and spreading your legs as he settles between them.

He’s the prettiest you’ve seen him yet. Even prettier than the first night. His lips are swollen pink, puffy and still lingering with your spit. Your mark on him, the first of many you need to leave, right along with the bruise on his neck. You wonder how hard you’d have to bite to bring blood tonight, you wonder which other spots on his neck would make him melt against you as you explored him fervently and left a whole collection of bruises that spell out your message very clearly – he’s mine for tonight.

His chest heaves as his eyes stare up into yours, hands gripping each of your knees. Even through the cotton, your skin is burning from his touch, your wildfire still thriving as you navigate this ocean he’s thrown the two of you into. A man-made river, more like it. It was made by his hand, it was created treacherously and with purpose against you, and yet you’re still here wading in it, also by his hand. 

“Tell me to stop,” he begs, unexpected as his hands squeeze you, his eyes zeroing in on his palms as they travel up to your thighs, pulling you closer and making your back slide down the cushion from the position you’re seated in, “Tell me you hate me.” 

For a second, you almost tell him you can’t. You can’t tell him to stop. Not as your leg lifts and his shoulder fits perfectly into the ditch of your knee, not as his hands creep further up to the band of the borrowed sweatpants. And once his fingers curl into the waist, knuckles pressing to your soft skin, you know you won’t. 

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, making his eyes shoot up to meet yours again, “I hate you, but don’t you fucking dare stop.” 

Quickly, at an almost impossible rate of speed, he yanks the sweats down off of you. They’re tossed behind him into a pile on his living room floor, uncared for and quickly forgotten. 

Once your skin is exposed to him, he’s planting messy kisses linearly up your shin, over your inner knee, until he reaches your thighs. Marks are left in his wake, shades of deep maroon fading lilac as he nips and sucks against them just as you had to his neck. 

“Show me yours,” he mumbles into your skin, fingertips pressing indents as he openly mouths over the hickies left behind. 

“What?”

“I showed you mine, now show me yours,” he insists with wild eyes, hair hardly contained by the bun that once contained the curls, “When you touch yourself, what do you think about?” 

“You,” you sigh out as he presses another kiss to you, even higher up now, growing dangerously close to your cunt. 

“What about me?” he pushes, staring up as he removes contact, “Use your words, baby.” 

“I-” you can’t think clearly, mind muddled with smoke and the image of him there before you, on his knees, “I think about your fingers instead of mine. How thick they are, how they’d feel.” 

His smile shows little satiation, “Go on.”

You’re so focused on getting the words out, you nearly don’t notice a hand loosening its grip on your thigh, inching up to your panties, playing with the lace edges. 

“I think about how deep you’d go, how you’d curl your fingers just- fuck,” you cut off with a gasp when his fingers slide beneath cotton, brushing over your wet folds. 

“Just fuck?” he mimics, pouting slightly, “Afraid I’ve never heard that one before. Might need you to demonstrate for me. How do I curl my fingers just fuck?” 

“Fuck you,” you whine, writhing beneath his touch as your ankles lock behind his head. 

“I’m trying to,” he pitches his voice to mock your own, and you regret ever saying the words to him. He clicks his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head, “God, you want me to fuck you so bad, it’s making you stupid.” 

His fingers stop teasing you as he finds your entrance, circling only the tip of his pointer finger to gather the slickness. Your hips buck, the desperation clawing its way through your entire body now, leaving ash and destruction in its path before Eddie brings an arm across your waist to hold you down to the couch firmly. 

“Beg for it,” he commands, voice shooting straight into your chest, “Be a good girl and say please, yeah?” 

His finger still circles your entrance, teasing but never quite pressing in, leaving you a whimpering mess. You begin to wonder if there will be any sign of how hard his forearm is pinned against you. 

A battle of both your prides. He can feel you burning up now, he sees the flames dancing and he’s willing to play with them rather than give in to you. 

You have to bite your lip to avoid letting the please on the tip of your tongue slip out for him. You’re still fighting him, still defying him. 

“I have been far nicer to you than you deserve,” he continues his taunts, a grin growing when he catches the way you’re physically holding back, “We both know it, so just say it. Say the word, and I’ll keep playing nice.” 

His finger breeches your entrance slightly, and you gasp, head thrown back immediately, “When have you ever been nice?” 

He tsks, removing the tip of his finger, letting it glide up between your folds before it stops just short of your clit, “Oh, I’m always nice. You just never seem to notice.” 

You think about it again. All the acts of kindness that went under the radar, all the times you’d buried in an effort to continue to harbor detestation for the man before you. He’s right – he probably doesn’t realize it, but he’s far more correct than you’d give him credit for at this moment. 

“Please fuck me,” you whisper to the ceiling, before swallowing hard and leaning your chin back down, looking him in his eyes as you decide to give him more than he asked for, “Please ruin me.” 

You’ve watched a mirage of emotions flush across his face on every possible occasion. Anger, distaste, aggression, laughter, annoyance. But you’ve never seen want quite like this grace his features. 

“Gladly.” 

His fingertip circles your clit, once, twice, three times, applying the perfect amount of pressure to have you crying out before he’s removing his forearm and nearly tearing your underwear to move it to the side and thrusting two fingers into your desperate cunt immediately. 

You sob out and nearly double over, the sting and stretch making you keen as he wastes no time. You’ve said the magic word, you’ve played his game, and now, he’s returning the favor. 

He’s playing nice. And, God, is nice quite the word to describe what he’s doing to you as he pumps his fingers into you, thrusting them in as deep as his knuckles allow before he curls them and brushes the spot that could make you scream with the right skill set.

He has the skill set. He notes your clenching on his fingers, and he curls again, with more intent this time. 

Maybe the thin walls only apply to the inside of his apartment, if you’re lucky. 

“Is this what you want?” he questions, leaning in so close to you that you feel his breath wash over you, “Is this what you meant by ruining you?” 

You nod, finding it becoming increasingly harder to speak as you gasp, “Y- Oh, fuck. Yes. Ple- fuck. Please.” 

He pauses, and you nearly scream out in frustration and protest before he rips your underwear off of you, dragging it down your legs and forcing your ankle to unlock from behind his head as he fights with the flimsy piece of cotton. You expect him to throw it, to let it join the sweats, but instead, he brings them to his face. He’s wolfish as he looks up at you, taking a deep breath in with the cotton pressed to his nose, not saying a word but watching you clench around nothing as he finally tosses the panties over his shoulder.

You see them catch on the coffee table, nowhere near the sweats. 

“Smell so sweet, baby,” he coos, bringing his fingers back to you, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips, “I might just have to tast-” 

A phone ringing cuts him off. The trill cuts through the silence, piercing both your ears, making you look at each other in fright. 

“Don’t answer it,” the words burst out before you think them over. You don’t care about your friends right now. You don’t care about the bet.

You care about his fingers back inside you, curling and hitting that spot you’ve spent endless nights fighting to find without success. You care about getting his clothes off of him, of your eyes tracing over his skin and the ink you’ve yet to see. You care about his cock, springing to attention, before he’s sheathing it inside of you and bringing you both to utter bliss. 

A phone call is at the bottom of your priorities right now. You just don’t care. 

“It’s your phone,” he counters, glancing behind the two of you to where your phone is buried in the heap of black clothing, “I’m not answering it. But…”

“I’m not answering it, either.” 

“If we don’t answer-”

“Eddie, I could fucking care less,” you sit up roughly, leaning in as close as you can in the compromising position, “We’re not answering it.”

The phone continues to ring, and he looks between you and it in clear confusion, “They’ll just keep calling-”

“Let them,” you insist, “If you don’t get your dick in me within the next minute, I’ll call this entire thing off,” you add on the last part as you reach out and your legs fall off his shoulders, hands replacing where your knees once rested as you bring his lips into yours. 

Teeth, tongue, salt water, ash. It drowns out the final few rings as you continue to tug on Eddie feverishly, forcing him to rise from his position on the ground and kneel on the edge of the couch, a hand balancing him upright by gripping the back of the couch. Your kiss is all the convincing he needs. 

“Fuck, fine, fine, I-” he cuts off, removing himself from you long enough to shrug off his leather jacket, to reach up and grab the collar of his shirt, yanking it over his head. The bun has officially unraveled to completion, curls flowing down over his collarbones and shoulders. You can’t keep your hands off him, fingertips immediately pressing into the exposed skin, “Just give me a second.” 

He stands, and you whine, making him snicker as he kicks off the grey sweatpants.

“So impatient,” he teases, and you watch his face light up in delight as you can only bite your tongue in response. There’s something more there, something to be considered later. Later, when you aren’t aching for him. Later, when the moment of desperation has passed, when his waves retreat from your shores and you find yourself capable of breathing fresh air once more. 

Later is not now.

The moment he’s down to just his boxers, you’re done waiting, doing as he had for you and dropping your knees to the carpet below. 

“Hey, what are you doin-” he’s interrupted by you leaning forward, looking up at him intently as you kiss the tip of his dick through his boxers. Your lips come in contact with the wet spot clearly forming, and you can see the shiver roll down his spine, “Oh, fuck. What the Hell happened to me… me getting… me getting my dick in you…” He’s trailing off, unable to focus as your fingers slip beneath the waistband and tug down, his dick slapping against his exposed stomach.

“It still counts if you fuck my mouth,” is all you say as his boxers pool at his ankles, and you don’t even wait for him to step out of them. 

Your phone is ringing again. You can feel the vibrations through the floor as you wrap a hand around his base, as you lean forward and place a proper kiss to his leaking tip, swirling your tongue in the precum. 

This time, the two of you don’t argue about answering it. It’s hard to as your mouth is full of him, and his is full of curses.

“Jesus Christ, I- Fuck, right there,” he’s gasping as you wrap your lips around the tip fully, just as you’d done with his thumb, sucking gently and making his hand fly down to rest on the back of your head.

You bob down a few times, hollowing your cheeks and taking him deeper and deeper until your nose presses into the coarse hairs resting at the base. You pause, letting your nose press into him as you breathe deeply, feeling him hit the back of your throat. Your eyes water, just as he described, and you take pride in the way he can’t even look at you now. 

You pull back, letting him drop from your mouth, smiling widely, “Better than your hand, right?” 

“Fuck off,” his hand rest at the back of your head grips the hair there, tangling up as he shoots you a glare. 

“Say it’s better than your hand, and I’ll fuck you off,” you press, letting a hand travel to fondle his balls, pinching the skin delicately, watching his reaction roll through him like waves.

“I- Fucking obviously,” he hisses as you smile, leaning down and pressing kisses along the shaft, “God, of course your mouth is better than my fucking hand. Of course it fucking is.”

“It better be,” you goad before taking him back into your mouth. This time, you suck harder, and his grip on your hair is painful once more. 

“Shit.” 

He’s at a loss for words, devolving into guttural groans and babbling moans as you quicken your pace, determined now.

You wanted to ruin him. After a year of his bullshit, after suffering through every fight and every argument, every passive glare and every turbulent comment, you want to make them man standing over you crumble to pieces. 

Except he wasn’t just crumbling, he was shattering. Splintering apart as his hips started to thrust to meet your mouth, as you choked around him and refused to let up, resorting to stuttering inhales through your nose as you pressed your face back to his pubes, swallowing accidentally and making him nearly scream. 

“Shit. Shit- stop. I’m going to f-fucking cum, stop,” he’s pulling you off of him suddenly, gasping for breath, not letting you refuse and push him over the edge. 

You’re smug as you lean onto your heels, wiping your mouth clean of the spit that strings from your bottom lip to his red tip with the back of your hand. 

“I think I win,” you state plainly, as if you weren’t currently taking heaving breaths, desperate to catch your breath and have his hands back on you. 

“Win? Wh- It’s not a fucking competition,” he scowls, raking a hand down over his face, chest flush.

“It is, and I fucking won.”

“Yeah? You think you won, baby?”He recovers quickly, you’ll give him that. He goes from a complete mess to a force to be reckoned with in an absolute instant, stepping out of his boxers and kicking them from his warpath before he reaches down to tug you to your feet, “In that case, if this is a competition, I think I deserve a second chance.”

You open your mouth to be a smart ass, to say something cruel or something mean, but he steps back before you have the chance. 

The look of want has turned stormy, confident and eliciting. A hurricane beckoning to you as he snaps his fingers. 

“Take your fucking shirt off, and get on the couch, all fours.” 

“I-”

“Now.” 

There’s no more fires, no more oceans, and no more petty arguments left in you. You listen to him. 

You throw off the sweatshirt, his sweatshirt, as he goes to one of the tables beside the couch and opens a drawer roughly. 

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, unhooking your bra as well, fully naked and aware that his eyes weren’t on you yet, “You just keep fucking condoms in your living room?” 

“Who said I was looking for fucking condoms?”

“Oh, my bad. I just assumed. Should have known you were getting me naked just to go searching for fucking Narnia in your drawers.” 

You were wrong. He was looking at you, and you’re only made aware by the sharp slap across your bare ass at the comment. It makes you spin quickly, looking at him and his set jaw. 

“Couch. All fours. Now.” 

“You’re such a sore loser,” you snark, taking a few steps back, trying to ignore the way the sting on your backside has your clit throbbing. 

“You have no idea, baby,” he says without a hint of joking, looking back down into the drawer and continuing to dig as you turn away from him again. 

Despite feeling exposed, you do as you’re told – you get onto the couch on all fours as he requested, knees digging into a surprisingly soft cushion that surely hadn’t felt that way earlier in the night when you’d attempted to sleep on the piece of furniture. You don’t dare to glance back at him over your shoulder when the drawer finally slams shut, hearing his heavy breathing as he returns to you being enough to force you to shut your eyes and take in a sharp gasp. 

“Still feeling like a winner?” his voice winds around you, nearly choking you as you feel a feathering fingertip trail across your lower back. 

“Always,” you lie breathily, voice betraying you as it shakes. 

You feel the couch dip from behind you, legs spreading as Eddie fits himself between your calves, one hand latching onto your hip.

“God, I can’t wait to fuck the brat out of you.” 

Without warning, he’s lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in, taking all the breath from your lungs as you collapse down onto your elbows and your cheek brushes the cushion of the couch. 

It burns, his cock forcing you to stretch and accommodate you, filling you at an unbelievable rate. 

You knew he was fucking big, but you hadn’t considered the consequences until this moment, as he truly feels as if he’s just begun his ruining of you. 

“Fu-” the curse is lost in your throat, a small gasp as you press yourself down even further into the couch, mind swimming. 

“Oh, no,” he tuts, sounding completely unaffected until he leans down over you as he bottoms out. When he gets closer, you catch it – the hitch in his breath, the way he pauses before he can speak, “That won’t do, sweetheart.”

He brings a hand back to your throat, just as he had when you two first entered the apartment, when the fight for dominance first began. It’s more from the pressure of his forearm across your chest, but the pressure is still applied on both sides as he guides you to straighten up your body against him, making him hit new angles that have you hissing out. 

“I said on all fours, not just waving your ass in the air like some slut,” you clench around him at his words, and he chuckles breathlessly, “You like that, don’t you? You like being my fucking slut.” 

You can only moan in response as he slowly pulls back his hips, feeling every inch of him beginning to retreat from you at an agonizing pace. 

“You’re pitiful,” he groans into your ear, pressing his thumb further against your throat, cutting off the circulation for only a moment. Just long enough to send a rush to your head, “You say you hate me, say you can’t fucking stand me, but get cock drunk just from me putting it in. I’m only getting started and you’re speechless.” 

You can only continue your pathetic whimpers, reaching back to grasp onto him before he tuts once more. 

“Pathetic, baby.” 

He slams back in, letting you drop forward. This time, you keep yourself up on your hands, letting out more small gasps, all of the noises getting half stuck on your tongue. 

“But you’re winning, right?” he taunts, accentuating each word with a thrust as he begins to pick up his pace, “You’re the winner here, right?” 

You don’t answer him, nearly drooling when he reaches forward and grabs up your hair, curling it around his wrist carefully before he pulls. It hurts, it makes you clench down on him, it has you babbling out nonsense you’re completely unaware of. 

Each time he snaps his hips forward, his skin collides with yours, ricocheting off the walls around the two of you.  Your arms shake, but you stay steady, refusing to collapse beneath him and the euphoria that scathes you. 

He pulls your hair harder this time, making you arch your back into him, “Tell me you hate me.” 

You cry out, feeling him hit even deeper as his free hand forces your hips to meet every thrust. 

“Say it, baby. Tell me just how much you hate me,” he huffs out, clearly barrelling as quickly to his own release as you are, “Say you hate my guts,” another sharp thrust, and his balls slap against you, catching your clit and making your knees shake, “Say you can’t stand me. Go ahead, baby, say it.” 

“I hate you,” you weakly respond, eyes tearing up as you feel your gut twist. Your fire, your blooms, his ocean. He’s making good on his promise – he’s ruining you, and you’re reveling in the wake of it all. Embers char you from the inside out, and your brain fogs over in pleasure. 

“Say it like you mean it.”

“I m-mean it,” you gasp when he reaches around, chest pressing to your back, finger hovering over your clit, “Fuck, right there, please. I mean it. Please, please-”

“Say it again, like you really mean it this time, and I’ll let you cum.” 

He stills, deep inside you, waiting with bated breath as his chin ghosts over the back of your shoulder. You stare straight ahead. If you glance down, you’d find your hands turned to fists, his ring still glittering on your finger. 

He’s destroyed you. To unimaginable levels. You can’t comply with his request, not without becoming a liar, because it occurs to you that the man currently wrecking you is not a man you’re capable of hating. You hated the situation the two of you were in, you hated the year wasted, you hated the looming pressure of your friends awaiting a return call, you hated the words exchanged between the two of you with the intention of cutting deep. You hated many things surrounding him, but you didn’t hate him. 

At Eddie’s core, he is still the man you first met. He’s finally drowned you, dragged you to the bottom of his ocean, and you can see that now. The man that first reeled you in at the bar never left, simply shrank away, hid himself away from you for some unknown reason that you hate. The man that dazzled you, enticed you, provided you with the opportunity of safety still exists. 

“I hate you,” you grit out, fisting at the cover of the cushions, your entire body on edge. From him, from revelations, from a build of hate that had been misdirected for far too long. 

“Good,” he gasps out, mouth falling open and against your skin, teeth grazing you, “Then this changes nothing.” 

You don’t have time to ponder, or wonder why he didn’t mention the feeling being mutual. Once the words leave both of you, his finger connects with your clit, working an expert pattern that has you preening as his vigorous thrusting returns. It’s harsher than before, pain and pleasure blurring together as your scalp aches, your vines tighten, and your flames erupt. 

Your vision whites out, and you don’t hear your screams of relief as much as you feel them. Your throat is hoarse, tears leak from the corners of your eyes, and the tension vanishes from your muscles.

Your arms collapse finally, and you don’t fight the way your cheek presses against rough fabric as his hips begin to stutter, his own ecstasy flooding over him before he’s crashing with you.  

The two of you stay that way for a second, skin on skin, words lingering in the air, threatening to vanish. You don’t care – you match your breathing to his as he doesn’t pull out immediately. 

A vibrating comes from the floor amongst the shared bliss, both of you too fucked out to move to go answer the phone. The money doesn’t matter anymore, not to you. 

Everything aches. You come to realize just how rough the two of you had treated each other, pains ringing out from your throat, from your ass, from your abused cunt. Your knees are surely marked from the couch and floor alike, your scalp is screaming in relief without Eddie’s grip against it. 

You don’t regret it. You don’t regret any of it, except a singular lie.

I hate you. 

What a brilliant, foolish, laughable, bullshit attempt at a lie.

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[m-afterhours]

My Spencer Reid c.ai bots masterlist

Disclaimer!!: I am not responsible for ANYONE’S online consumption. I make these bots for fun, how you choose to use them is not my problem.

All my socials: https://michlvss.carrd.co 

C.ai Profile: https://character.ai/profile/michlovesmgg

My Organization:

⏾  — angst

♡ — comfort

❀ — hurt/comfort

☁︎ — fluff

★ — spice

♱ — Vampire

[ M4F ] — for F!User

[ M4M ] — for M!User

[ M4GN ] — for GN!User

My personal favorites will be highlighted , like this

Requests Link!! https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfTnYwWKwvQaWvob5ktcmMoHz6CC1CQ_l9HWtn8-iH-aRJ0wA/viewform?usp=sharing

Survey link (to help improve my bots)

You can click the title of the bot and it’ll take you to the bot on c.ai. If any of the links aren’t working, feel free to dm me on twitter, @mlovesmgg (For bot collaborations, also DM on twitter.)

Professor Reid 

❀★ — Forbidden Fruit

The classic tale of Teacher falls for his student. 

{{user}} started taking Professor Reid's classes a couple months ago, and was immediately smitten by the genius. She didn't know that the feeling was not only reciprocated, but the Professor Reid was irrevocably in love with her. Yet, there was nothing he could do, for she is his student, and they have a 20 year age gap. 

★ — Failing

Professor Reid is failing his star student. She isn’t taking to kindly to that.

After another red-ink-covered essay is returned, she confronts him in his office, {{user}} accuses Spencer of being harsher on her assignments compared to other students.

⏾ — Daddy Issues [M4M]

⏾ — Daddy Issues [ M4F ]

{{user}} is a person who has a lot of issues with their father. They get enrolled into Spencer's profiling class, and is enamoured by him. They constantly follow him like a lost puppy, and is overall a teacher's pet. beyond their understanding, their attachment to Professor Reid is due to their daddy issues. They’re in love with him because he's the paternal figure they always wished they had. And Spencer is aware of this, Yet he can't help how he feels. He loves them too.

❀ — Jealousy, Jealousy

At a campus event, {{user}} sees Spencer deep in conversation with a stunning guest lecturer. He seems captivated, and she leaves in a huff before he notices. Later, he finds her sketching furiously in the art department and softly asks, “Why are you mad?”

Dad Spencer Reid

Keeping the Girl dad Spencer agenda, because we all know he’s truly the definition of girl dad.

♡ — Single father

♡ — single mom

{{user}} and Spencer are best friends and have been since you joined the BAU. Some years ago Spencer and his ex-girlfriend had a baby, and she left him with it. He struggles to care for the kid by himself, but he’s too proud to ask for help so you help without him noticing.

Single Mother is the same as single father, just roles reversed.

⏾ — Struggling Parents

Spencer and {{user}} have been fighting more often, with their latest argument highlighting the growing distance between them. Spencer, overwhelmed by work, feels unappreciated, while {{user}} struggles with the weight of managing their home and caring for their daughter alone.

❀ — Meeting his daughter

Spencer Reid misses the birth of his daughter due to work but arrives just in time to meet her in the recovery room, where he’s overwhelmed with guilt, love, and the realization of how much his world has changed.

Spencer Reid

⏾ — Maeve's death was your fault

After Maeve passed, everyone thought Reid would honestly be the next. He was a shell of a person he used to be, it honestly scared {{user}} how frail and weak he looked and their heart truly went out to him. He had found true love and the world had snatched it away from his hands before he could've enjoyed it. And for that same reason he was acting out. To a point where he could destroy you with words.

❀ — Case gone wrong

Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

❀ — Mean Girl

Ten years after high school, where she was part of the “mean girls” who made life difficult for him, Spencer finds himself forced to share a hotel room with his old tormentor, now his colleague at the BAU. Assigned to work through their issues for the sake of the team, Spencer confronts buried resentment, while she tries to prove she’s changed. As tensions rise, they find themselves in a fragile truce, navigating past pain and searching for trust amidst lingering hurt and regrets.

❀ — Helping him forget Cat

Cat Adams is a relentless tormentor who has plagued the life of Spencer Reid, a former child prodigy now working at the BAU. Cat has targeted Spencer's friend Penelope, framed him for murder and drug possession, leading to his imprisonment, drugged him after over a decade of sobriety, kidnapped his mother, and even pretended to be pregnant with his child. Despite these ordeals, Spencer has found solace in his relationship with {{user}}, whom he has been dating for a couple of years. She is desperately trying to help him forget Cat, but it proves difficult for her.

★ — Humbling Spencer

{{user}} and Spencer have both worked at the BAU for five years now, and since day one they have been rivals. Perhaps it might've been because they were polar opposites. He was way too smart and a goody-two-shoes, and she was relatively dumb and liked to bend the rules. But have you ever heard that opposites attract? And as much as they hated to admit it (and they hated it a lot), they are incredibly attracted to each-other.

♡ — Children of Divorce

Spencer and {{user}} are high school best friends, and {{user}} seeks solace at his house one night after another brutal evening at home, where her parents' constant fighting, body-shaming, and criticism make her feel unworthy. Spencer, familiar with the pain of parental neglect and abandonment, comforts her with quiet understanding.

❀ — he has a crush on you.

Spencer has been your best friend since you both got into the BAU, which was over a decade ago. He has been secretly in love with you for years but never had the guts to tell you. He told JJ, who told Penelope, who told Morgan, who told Prentiss, who told you about his crush on you. Now you've been extremely awkward around him and he doesn't understand why. So after days of thinking, he decides to confront you.

☁︎ — He's Cute

In a lively bar, Spencer sits with the team, sipping soda while watching {{user}} enjoy herself. As the night progresses, {{user}} drunkenly leans in and excitedly tells Spencer how cute she thinks he is, praising his intelligence, sweet nature, and even his looks.

❀ — Drunk Dialing

Spencer is at his desk in the empty bullpen, drinking alone after a tough case, feeling the weight of loneliness and regret over his recent breakup with {{user}}. Despite their friends-with-benefits arrangement ending because she felt too attached, Spencer finds himself longing for her presence. When Morgan calls {{user}} to come get him, she arrives, concerned yet conflicted. As they confront the distance that has grown between them, Spencer admits he struggles with not wanting to get attached.

♡ — You’re his psychiatrist

Spencer finds himself increasingly affected by his feelings for his therapist, {{user}}. As he reflects on their sessions, he realizes his emotions are growing deeper, complicating the professional boundaries he thought he could maintain.

☁︎ — worst/best date — [ M4GN ]

☁︎ — Worst/Best Date — [ M4F ]

{{user}} finds out Spencer hasn’t had enough dates to play Best/Worst Date with the team and offers several Play Dates, but quickly realizes it’s hard to have a bad date with Spencer Reid.

★ — Bodyguard

user the daughter of an influential and very important politician. Spencer gets hired as her bodyguard when a serial killer starts to target her dad, and now he’s her little secret. Her dirty little secret, and he loves it.

☁︎ — Hotch's Sibling — [ M4GN ]

☁︎ — Hotch's Sister — [ M4F ]

Hotch’s sibling, {{user}}, graduates college, the team goes to the ceremony or after party and Spencer is immediately smitten.

❀ — I wish I knew you wanted me — [ M4GN ]

❀ — I wish I knew you wanted me — [ M4F ]

based loosely on 'bad habit'. spencer got asked out by {{user}} 5 years ago, when he was recovering from his dilaudid addiction, and turned them down. now, he's in love with them, and pining for them. Also, I'm jealous!spencer. they fell first, he fell harder.

★ — you'd be more fun to kiss

Spencer and {{user}} stand face-to-face, their argument escalating from professional tension to something far more personal.

Spencer is hyper-focused, methodical, and feeling the pressure to maintain control. He’s the one trying to keep emotions in check because he knows that letting them loose could cost them everything — maybe even their jobs or reputations.

{{user}} is fiery, unpredictable, and thrives on instinct. She challenges him, needles him, and is willing to throw caution to 

⏾ — Illicit Affairs

Spencer thought marrying Dr. Maeve Donovan would bring stability after the turmoil of catching her stalker and uncovering her hidden past, including a secret engagement to her ex-fiancé, Bobby. However, their marriage is marred by mutual distrust. Seeking solace, Spencer meets a captivating young college student, {{user}}, and begins a clandestine affair.

⏾ — Cherry Wine

Spencer had never had a friendship like the one he shared with {{user}}—they were inseparable, whether at work or during their Doctor Who marathons. She understood him, maybe better than he understood himself. But then there was Cat—chaotic, dangerous, everything. Cat hurt him, but the pain made her rare moments of tenderness feel more precious. {{user}} tried to make him see the truth, but she didn’t understand. He needed Cat. He wanted her. And if that meant enduring the pain, so be it.

⏾ — Spencer says something he shouldn't have

Spencer and {{user}}'s relationship has become strained and distant. Once happy and full of love, their connection has deteriorated into frequent arguments and emotional distance. Spencer is struggling with bottled-up emotions, exacerbated by his friend Morgan's departure, which has made him irritable and withdrawn. Despite {{user}}'s efforts to reach out and support him, Spencer dismisses her, leading to intense and hurtful confrontations. Their relationship, now marked by tension and misunderstanding.

⏾ — Undercover

Spencer had been sent from the BAU to investigate you as a potential suspect for a line of murders. The mission was set to last a couple of months. He didn't expect to fall in love with you. and now he is in shambles, because he loves you so much, but there's a possibility that he'll have to lock you up.

⏾ — It's Casual

Spencer and {{user}} met through work. They both work at the BAU, and are friends, but not really close since {{user}} isn’t really attached to the team the way Spencer is. They began sleeping together, a no strings attached situation, after they had to share a room during a case. Spencer swears he doesn’t have feelings for {{user}}, and even treats her poorly in public. You might even think he doesn't like her at all from how terrible he is to her. yet he's secretly in love with her.

⏾ — Don’t want them looking at you

Spencer grapples with the protective instincts that arise when his girlfriend, {{user}}, walks in, drawing unwanted attention from the inmates. Despite his injuries—a black eye and a split lip—he brushes off her concerns, determined to shield her from the harsh realities of his world. As she expresses worry for his safety, Spencer's fierce declaration that he doesn’t want anyone looking at her reveals the depth of his feelings and his willingness to fight for her, no matter the cost.

⏾ — Things are weird after Maeve

After Maeve's death, Spencer Reid isolates himself, drowning in grief that feels endless. Sympathy baskets pile at his doorstep, unopened. His closest friends reach out—except for {{user}}. Their relationship fractured after a fight where she confessed her jealousy over Maeve. Weeks later, the BAU is struggling without him. When Spencer finally returns, he feels like a ghost in familiar spaces. 

⏾ — Don't make me choose

Spencer had a crush on JJ. Spencer and {{user}} have been dating for a while and they were really happy. Spencer starts to distance from {{user}} and spends more time with JJ. It wasn't long 'til the team noticed, so Emily and Penelope, tell {{user}} about it. She confronts him.

⏾ — JJ's Confession

In the aftermath of a hostage situation, Spencer Reid struggles to support his girlfriend, {{user}}, who is Jennifer Jareau’s sister. Following Jennifer’s unexpected confession of feelings for Spencer during the crisis, {{user}} grapples with insecurities about their relationship.

⏾ — You knew/lied about Emily

When Spencer discovers that Emily Prentiss, the friend he believed dead for seven months, is alive, the truth shatters him. Faced with the betrayal of a lie born from good intentions, Spencer’s emotional turmoil spirals out of control. In a heated confrontation, he lashes out, uttering words that could irreparably damage their bond. 

⏾ — Love is a Laserquest

In his favorite coffee shop, Spencer unexpectedly encounters {{user}}, the woman who once meant everything to him. Years have passed since their tumultuous past, yet her presence still stirs feelings he thought long buried. Despite the pain she caused, Spencer finds himself drawn to her again, grappling with the desire to reconnect amidst lingering memories of love and betrayal.

⏾ — You catch him making out with Lila

The first time {{user}} met Spencer Reid, she swore that she could feel butterflies. She figured that it would be unreasonable to ever consider him to be anything more than a friend, and in a moment of selflessness she tells herself that she is perfectly fine in that position. That was until she saw him in a pool with Lila Archer.

⏾ — he's an addict

After getting kidnapped, tortured, and involuntarily drugged. Spencer finds himself addicted to an opioid called "Dilaudid." {{user}}, is trying to get him to quit, but she's struggling to do so.

⏾ — I don't love you, i'm just passing time

Spencer and {{user}} are in a seemingly happy relationship. At least that’s how it seems to everyone who knows them, including {{user}}. The fact of the matter is, Spencer doesn’t love her. As much as he tries, he just can’t bring himself to, but can’t seem to tell her either.

⏾ — Stay [ M4F ]

⏾ — Stay [ M4M ]

the push and pull of a relationship where one person is emotionally distant, despite the deep connection they share. Spencer and {{user}} embody this struggle: Spencer longs for something real, desperate for her to stay, while {{user}} is hesitant, caught in the tension of wanting to be close but unable to fully commit. the complexity of their dynamic—Spencer pleading for her not to leave, while {{user}} admits that she's here, but she can't promise to stay for good.

⏾ — Something Stupid like I love you

Spencer struggles with his feelings after {{user}} confesses her love for him. Though he feels the same, his fear of inadequacy and hurting her leads him to avoid her, leaving them both in emotional limbo. His avoidance only deepens his longing and guilt, forcing him to confront the possibility of losing her if he doesn’t overcome his fears.

⏾ — That's so true

Spencer attends a team party at Rossi's with Maeve, the woman he cheated on {{user}} with. Tensions run high when a drunk and heartbroken {{user}} confronts Spencer in front of everyone, her sarcastic and emotional outburst exposing her lingering pain and his betrayal. She mocks their relationship, revealing personal details about Spencer that Maeve may not know, before storming out.

⏾ — You said no to his proposal

Spencer and {{user}} have been dating for six years now. {{user}} is the light of his life, he can’t think of life without her. For months now, he has been working up the courage to ask you to marry him. He bought the most beautiful ring ever, took you to the finest dining, and even styled his hair for once. The whole night he had been incredibly nervous, fidgeting, stuttering. What happens when you say no?

⏾ — He dislikes you [first person]

⏾ — He dislikes you [third person]

Spencer didn’t like {{user}}. Sure, he was respectful and kind to her, but deep down, he couldn’t stand her. Every word that came out of her mouth seemed to add fuel to the ever-growing list of reasons why she rubbed him the wrong way.

Sometimes, guilt crept in over his harsh judgments. After all, she hadn’t done anything to him personally—she was just there, at the wrong place and time.

⏾ — he gets shot

After a devastating case, Spencer and {{user}} are chasing down the unsub, when suddenly, Spencer gets shot. {{user}} can't bear to lose him.

⏾ — The naturals

Spencer and {{user}} shared a deep, unwavering love until she was abducted by a serial killer targeting those closest to the BAU. Though she managed to escape, the trauma created a rift she couldn't mend. Leaving Spencer, she filed for divorce, vanishing from his life to heal on her own. Years later, when a new case mirrors her abduction, {{user}} returns to help the team, forcing Spencer to confront unresolved feelings and a love they both thought had been left in the past.

★ — Enemies to Lovers

Being the liaison for the BAU was stressful enough as is, what with all messed up things you see, being in danger, press being a bitch. But combining the job with the incredibly annoying Spencer Reid, and maintaining your sanity while on the road became borderline impossible. 

☁︎ — You didn't forget his birthday

Spencer feels down on his birthday, convinced that everyone has forgotten it. Just as he resigns himself to another quiet day, you arrive at his door with a thoughtful gift bag containing his favorite coffee and a stack of books you know he hasn't read. Your surprise visit lifts his spirits, reminding him that he is valued and cherished, despite his fears of being overlooked.

⏾ — Unsub user

{{user}} and Spencer were once childhood best friends. After a chain of events that happened in {{user}}'s childhood, she goes down a dangerous path. She becomes a criminal, and now she’s Spencer’s number one problem. The only problem he can’t seem to catch.

❀ — Meet Ugly

Spencer and User meet for the first time at a coffee shop. You would assume that’s your typical meet cute love story, but no. Spencer’s patience was running very thin, and user didn’t help when she crashed into him with a cup of scorching hot coffee.

☁︎ — So High School

In which Spencer and {{user}} are in high school. they're not together, at least not yet, but they are best friends.  He doesn't understand what he's feeling. all he knows is that she understands him like no one else.

☁︎ — Physics Magic

Spencer Demonstrated some physics magic for the team. His little experiment accidentally lands on Hotch, who had previously told him not to do physics magic on work. Hotch unexpectedly supports his little trick, which leaves Spencer with a goofy smile.

{{user}} can't resist that smile. she ruffles his hair and calls him adorable. adorable? Spencer had never been called adorable before. he is left dumbfounded.

⏾ — Guilty Until Proven Innocent

Three months ago, {{user}} disappeared. Accused of a murder I know she didn’t commit. The evidence against her was airtight, meticulously crafted to make her look guilty. She must have known the odds were stacked against her, and the thought of prison..I can’t blame her for leaving.

The team hasn’t stopped searching for her, though their reasons differ from mine. I can see it in the way they talk about her, as if she’s already been condemned. I know she’s innocent—I just need to prove it.

❀ — Play Pretend

When Spencer accepts an invitation to dinner from his absent father, he finally cashes in that favor you owe him. he asks you to pretend to date him for the tense weekend.

❀ — Elephants Memory [ M4M ]

❀ — Elephants Memory [ M4F ]

Spencer recalls a humiliating college memory where he was tricked and tied to a pole by bullies. In the midst of his despair, {{user}} stepped in, fearlessly standing up to the tormentors and saving him. Years later, while sharing the story with the BAU, Spencer reveals how {{user}}’s bravery restored his faith in kindness, a reminder that even in his darkest moments, someone had his back.

☁︎ — Sweatshirt [ M4F - third person ]

☁︎ — Sweatshirt [ M4M - third person ]

When Spencer Reid falls into a freezing lake during a case, {{user}} lends him her oversized sweatshirt to keep warm. What starts as a simple act of kindness turns into an unexpected wardrobe staple, as Spencer refuses to part with the comforting garment. But his attachment to the sweatshirt—her sweatshirt—raises eyebrows at the BAU, sparking teasing, laughter, and the subtle realization that sometimes, the smallest things carry the deepest meanings.

⏾ — Anthrax (Amplification — 4x24)

While investigating a top secret case where people are getting anthrax poisoning, Spencer goes into the house they were gonna investigate, and finds himself under the unfortunate situation of getting exposed to Anthrax. he locks himself in the room just as {{user}} finds him.

⏾ — My girl

Spencer and {{user}} are best friends with an unspoken connection, but when he starts dating someone else, he begins to prioritize his new relationship, leaving {{user}} feeling overlooked and hurt.

☁︎ — You're pregnant

After three years of dating, {{user}} discovers she’s pregnant and is consumed by anxiety—unsure if she’s ready for motherhood, if Spencer wants kids, or if he’d stay by her side forever. Overwhelmed, she forgets to hide the test, leaving Spencer to find it.

☁︎ — Homesick

{{User}} mentions missing home during a casual conversation. The next day, Spencer, her professor, surprises her with her favorite comfort food (or dessert) from a small café he found in the city. She thanks him with tears in her eyes, and he says, “You deserve to feel cared for.”

Vamp Spencer Reid

♱ — first taste [ Vamp Spencer ]

Spencer hadn't been answering your texts, hadn't been to work, it worried you sick. So you took it into your own hands to find him only to see his apartment left unlocked. You went in there hoping to find him, but not only did you find him, you found out his secret.

♱ — Love's Perfect Ache [ Vamp Spencer ]

In a small, quiet town, user, a determined and sharp-witted investigator, is on the trail of a mysterious monster. As she delves deeper into the case, the lines between friend and foe with Spencer, blur, and user begins to realize the dangerous secret Spencer is hiding.

What she doesn't know is that Spencer is the very creature she’s been hunting—an ancient vampire with a hidden agenda and an unexpected affection towards the very same woman he wished to destroy.

♱ — Terms and Conditions [ Vamp User ]

Spencer Reid discovers that {{user}}, a recently captured killer, is actually a vampire—something only he deduces through his extensive knowledge of folklore and mythology. Fascinated and driven by his need to understand her, he visits frequently under the guise of profiling. 

he agrees to free her—but under strict conditions: {{user}} must not kill and is confined to his apartment. Bound by curiosity and a dangerous pact, Spencer finds himself playing a deadly game.

♱ — Need you Tonight [ Vamp User ]

{{user}} and Spencer have been dating for a while now, but she has a secret. For years she's been a vampire in a city that’s secretly infested with them. What happens when Spencer finds out you’re a vampire?

[philocalistherz]

«──« ⋅ʚ study methods ɞ⋅ »──»

➴ September 28, 2024. ₊˚ෆ

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

ೃ⁀➷ reading’s menu ༉‧��

💭— a table to study complex subjects and prepare essays about it. May contain main or secondary arguments, other’s sources / authors referenced and key words, important dates or works quoted.

𖥔 First column: name of the book or article i’m referencing or reading.

𖥔 Second column: key points with color code.

𖥔 Third column: questions that pop out through the lecture / questions to consult the professor.

𖥔 Fourth column: terminology and its meaning to the author in particular.

𖥔 Fifth column: page count.

🤍 c o l o r • c o d e x 🤍

𖥔 B4DAF9 [baby blue]

— main argument.

𖥔 FEE1E8 [soft pink]

— reference to another author / work.

𖥔 DBE6DB [baby green]

— Key words.

𖥔 F9E9D5 [coral]

— doubts to consult.

𖥔 BC96CD [lavender]

— secondary argument.

ೃ⁀➷ anatomy of a good essay༉‧₊

💭— A tactical guide to approach whatever essay. Function as a template for redacting one.

𖥔 title and quote related to the subject.

🤍 i n t r o d u c t i o n 🤍

𖥔 hook line: grab the attention with a simple phrase, don’t formulate closed questions.

𖥔 context: background information and general panoramic about the object of study (what, who, when, why and how)

𖥔 statement: includes the topics and highlights important arguments and point.

🤍 b o d y • p a r a g r a p h 🤍

𖥔 theory: personal point of argument.

𖥔 evidence: examples that support the theory.

𖥔 connection: associations between your points and the authors points, can be in favor or not.

𖥔 interrelation: a link to the conclusion section.

🤍 c o n c l u s i o n s 🤍

𖥔 statement: condense your point or argument

𖥔 summary: key points and statements all around the document in a conclusion.

𖥔 double hook: let your professor wanting more without leaving loose ends.

ೃ⁀➷ blurting method ༉‧₊

💭 — An useful tool to complex and extent subjects, it can work well with another type of studies. You’ll need the following:

𖥔 name the block: assign a general title about what are you studying right now.

𖥔 material: observe and read two or three times the texts to mark with the color code.

𖥔 memory game: set aside your text and notes and grab a blank page to write down everything that you remember from the notes in consistent sentences.

𖥔 look back: read your notes and add with another color the information that you missed, use this time to look external sources and find meanings/ simpler synonyms of important concepts.

ೃ⁀➷ feynman technique ༉‧₊

💭 — an active way to remember and comprehend complex subjects, can be alone but functions well with a study group.

𖥔 the topic: choose one of the themes that the academic program has, a complete subject. Apply the blurting method or your notes from the reading’s menu.

𖥔 go down to earth: explain on paper or in a whiteboard the subject like you were speaking to a child.

𖥔 revision: compare the explanation paper with your notes and with another color of pen write missed key points.

𖥔 crumble: to a final revision an repeat the process until you can do it without consulting your notes or menu.

ೃ⁀➷ crow method ༉‧₊

💭— an organization guide to save time and study puntual subjects without (sometimes) distraction.

𖥔 collect: find all the themes, sub jets and topics discussed in class and classify them in order of importance / apparition.

𖥔 prioritize: annotate due dates and set reminders with alarms at least for 2 days before the due time; again organize this information in order of importance.

𖥔 construct: mark the most heavy is difficult subjects, units, the dates of important tests and alternate with simpler activities, don’t forget include spare time to take some rest.

𖥔 rank: make space for maximum 2 study sessions per day, balancing your personal life with you study life. try to always separate your spaces, study outside bed.

[ last updated September 28, 2024]

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

[mj0702]

okay this is going to be so long i am so sorry

exams:

the most common format

they are set on any day like not in the class exams are done in like another room (either one of the largest lecture halls if your class is smaller like <100 people, or more commonly theres like 3ish classes in the gym and were like given rows so one class is like a-f then so on to ✨organize it✨)

they are very fucking strict, like they release the schedule for ALLL the exams for the university during reading week (late october) and then you plan accordingly to take them on that date and time they set and if you want to change anything for most reasons they will laugh in your face and say suck it up, also changing the exam format takes like every single person in that class physically signing their agreement and if ONE person says no the exam can not change!! also the profs often dont even consider allowing that anyway (obviously accommodation and stuff are different but thats either like accessibility or extenuating circumstances)

so you often will have an exam anywhere from monday to sunday at any time between 8am and 7pm starts and theyre usuallyyyyy 2-3 hours!! (ive never had a longer/shorter one), typically they include like a multiple choice thing and then short, long, and essay questions but it depends on the class and professor!!

less common format:

sometimes exams are put online :D for various reasons (though i cannot confirm if they do that for the snow problems bc im lucky enough to have had exams situated just outside of those), tho i did have an exam released at noon on friday and due at noon sunday so that is possible (this exam was originally a 3pm sat exam that we convinced the prof to move online!! tho that only worked bc its a small class and department and the prof knew all of us very well, this class was like 15-20 people lol)

and ive heard of final assignments and presentations, but for those theyd just be in the regular class times before the exam period starts

leading to my final point that some classes dont have exams, more common for like online courses or like assignment/coursework heavy courses (very very very uncommon ive NEVER heard of it for psychology, bio, chem, physics ((psyc is science at my school)), or maybe math etc courses tho for some math courses you may get cheat sheets/formula sheets so thats nice)

but obviously ive not taken EVERY type of course (i do however know a decent bit bc i have friends in a many different degrees lol)

okay midterms:

midterms are serious, they are like an exam (they are an exam) just less formal! but they dont always exist like it depends on the class (personally i had 3 classes with midterms this past semester but two classes had two midterms each -same prof for both classes- so i wound up with 5 midterms anyways)

you write them usually on a set day thats like within your class time, so its like going to class and writing a test, but like a test on steroids bc the exam and midterm are almost identical in difficultly most times!!

however midterms CAN be set on saturday or sunday if the prof fucking wants to (this is common in chemistry at my uni) so yeah :)

okay i think this is all questions answered!! but yeah exams and midterms are like big for me!! theyre often also worth large amounts of your grade (in my two classes with 2 midterms each exams and midterms made up 75% of my final grade, each 25%), and while 25% is a bit bigger for one exam in my degree, theyre typically like 15-20% of your grade each!! so not a small impact if you were to fail!

overall, this is just MY university when it comes to specifics and my university is like slightly smaller than some of the others. however, i also know this is common for surrounding universities!! like i know for my lil southern portion of my province (where a lot of LARGE and well known canadian universities actually reside lol) this is not completely out of left field like its relatively common to hear about it!!

but yeah again im so sorry for how long this is!! :D

-lil canadian :))

I'm just gonna post it like this without reading it 😅😅

[princesseswritebooks]

100 Days of Productivity (4/100)

Things I did today (and it's only 4pm)

Sat through a lecture I didn't want to be at (cause I was sleepy)

Studied at the public library (school library was closed bc chapel)

Finished my Renaissance Lit assignment

Submitted 4 late assignments (I'm catching up)

Scheduled my missed tests

It's not a bad day but I still have more to do. I plan to --

Finish annotating chapter 9 of my textbook

Read the poems for tomorrow's class

mess around with essay ideas on John Donne

[dhampiravidi]

🚿 my muse has busted out the bath bombs for yours ((Cass with a whole array of trusty bath time stuff- bath bombs, bath salts, bath milk, luxurious bubble baths, flower petals and such specifically purchased for bath time, scented candles, etc- knowing that Jayn has been really stressed out, insisting that she needs to pick some scents and go take a nice, warm, bath and relax~ Can be at Caleb's place, or Cass's (since she has a bathroom off of her own bedroom with a bathtub), or even when the OT4 is all together! Either way, she's gonna try to make sure that Jayn gets to relax and nobody bothers her! <3))

Jayn was on the verge of crying when Cass texted her, asking if she was still free. The girls (also short for girlfriends) had planned their hangout a week in advance, so Jayn didn't want to cancel. But gods, it'd been so hard.

Finding her loves had been nothing short of a miracle, if not a godsend. Between learning she had magic, discovering the beauty of Ipswich, befriending her new friend-coven*, and going on her first date, her initial semesters in college had been great. But that had been when she was going to USM online. She'd transferred to Harvard starting in Fall '09, so she could stay with her newfound family, and the school was slowly killing her. She was smart enough to only take 4 classes, and yet every week left her drained, if not in tears. When she wasn't stressing out over a test or a big essay, she had some cryptic assignment instructions to decipher. Basically, Jayn constantly felt dumb, and her anxiety was through the roof. Twice, Caleb had found her sobbing, wrapped up in her sheets like a wet burrito. He gave great hugs and advice, but he was supposed to be focusing on his debates, not to mention his own assignments. It was the same with Pogue, who still worked part-time on top of swimming for the school's team, and Cass, who mixed astronomy with her Gen Ed stuff. No one was supposed to be helping her.

The moment she saw her girlfriend (after she reluctantly yanked on some clothes and brushed out her matted hair), Jayn hid in her arms, wanting nothing more than to snuggle. She told the usual lie (that she was fine, just had some allergies) and then teleported them back to Cassia's room. She wasn't sure if she had enough energy for a spirited conversation, much less a movie watching, but Cass was worth trying. And then Jayn found soft hands covering her eyes, marching her through the house.

Something smells nice. Like Cass. She smiled to herself, daydreaming about shrinking down and falling asleep in the older girl's pocket. Cass would keep her safe, far away from snippy professors and cold lecture halls...

"OK, you can look!" Those soft hands disappeared right as Jayn opened her eyes--to see something out of a rom-com. Cass's tub (which she'd seen a few times now, hehe) had turned into a fairy spa. The water was a light turquoise color, one that was so shy it seemed like a portal to another world (or maybe a clean, faraway sea!), and a thin layer of foam sat comfortably on top of it, along with a few flower petals. And then, there were tea candles in Jayn's favorite colors (silver, indigo, and pink) gently glowing throughout the room.

She couldn't help it. She broke, whimpering softly as tears ran down her face and soaked her shirt. Cass, of course, was right there, kissing her head plenty of times before she pulled Jayn into a comforting hug.

"N-no one ever--I n-never," Jayn tried. Cass simply shushed her and held her a bit longer. "W-water's gonna get cold..."

"So we should get in, then!" They undressed each other, used to keeping out of each other's way, then sat in the tub, one behind the other. Cass used a washcloth to sop up some warm water and let it run down her love's chest, making Jayn hum happily. It wasn't long before they were exchanging slow kisses and snuggling, just enjoying each other's company.

Jayn would be OK. She'd made it this far without her found family, but they'd be there if she needed them.

*as opposed to friend group! Used to refer to the OT4 + Tyler, Reid, and Aaron :D

[fromdevcom]

Exploring the World of DIY Tech: Crafting Your Own College Gadgets In an era where technology governs almost every facet of our lives, students are continually seeking innovative ways to enhance their college experience. From managing a hectic studying schedule to juggling assignments and group projects, the academic journey demands efficient tools. But what if instead of investing in expensive gadgets, students could craft their own tech tools? Welcome to the world of DIY tech — a realm where innovation meets personalization. For those students feeling burdened by essays, they can always opt to pay for essays on essayservice.com while simultaneously delving into the exciting domain of creating their own college gadgets. Why DIY Tech for College Students? Empowering Autonomy and Ownership DIY tech not only introduces students to the world of innovation but also fosters a sense of ownership. Creating a gadget from scratch makes students appreciate the value of their creations, often leading to better maintenance and a longer lifespan of the gadget. Practical Application of Theory Often, in college, theoretical concepts dominate lectures. DIY tech offers a bridge between theory and practicality. Students get to apply what they learn in their electronics, physics, or engineering classes, offering a tangible understanding of academic concepts. Embracing Creativity and Innovation The DIY tech movement isn’t just about pinching pennies. At its heart, it’s a celebration of creativity. It propels students to think unconventionally, designing gadgets that cater specifically to their unique studying needs. This hands-on approach not only brings out their inventive side but also sharpens critical thinking and problem-solving skills — assets that will serve them well throughout their academic journey and beyond. Tailored Learning Experience The beauty of DIY tech lies in its adaptability. No two students are the same, and neither are their studying methods. By diving into the DIY tech world, students can tailor-make gadgets that echo their personal learning preferences. This personal touch ensures a more engaged, efficient, and enjoyable learning experience. Popular DIY Tech Projects for College Life Interactive Study Timetable Harnessing the power of basic programming and LED lights, students can create a dynamic study timetable. This visual aid can signal study breaks, assignment due dates, or even test days, helping students manage their time efficiently. Study Lamp with USB Charger With the influx of electronic devices in today’s studying routines, keeping them charged is essential. By enhancing a traditional study lamp with a USB charging feature, students ensure their devices are always powered up, enabling seamless study sessions. DIY Whiteboard Be it for quick math calculations, doodling diagrams, or sketching out assignment plans — a whiteboard is a student’s best friend. And crafting one tailored to personal preferences can be both fun and functional. Using materials like whiteboard paint on any flat surface, perhaps even adding grids or sections, students can create the perfect note-taking space. Noise-Canceling Headphones The college environment, be it dorm rooms or common study areas, can get noisy. For students craving some quiet, crafting their noise-canceling headphones can be the solution. With a few components and a bit of research, they can create headphones that block out distractions and elevate concentration. Incorporating DIY Tech into Daily College Routines Seek Feedback and Refine Once a project is complete, students should seek feedback from peers. This constructive criticism can lead to refinements and improvements, ensuring their DIY gadgets are optimized for performance. Document the Process Maintaining a journal or a blog about their DIY journey can be beneficial. It not only serves as a reference for future projects but can also be a fantastic

addition to a portfolio, showcasing students’ innovative spirit to future employers or academic institutions. Collaborate and Learn The DIY ethos is rooted in community. By partnering with classmates or joining online DIY tech communities, students can share insights, learn from others, and even embark on larger, more ambitious projects. Stay Updated with Trends Technology, by its very nature, is ever-evolving. Keeping a finger on the pulse of the latest trends ensures students’ DIY projects remain relevant. Subscribing to tech blogs, joining DIY forums, or even attending tech workshops can keep them informed and inspired. Conclusion The DIY tech movement isn’t just a fleeting trend. It’s an empowering journey enabling students to craft tools that resonate with their college life’s unique rhythms. As they juggle academic challenges, including the heaps of essays and assignments, there’s comfort in knowing platforms like paper writing services are available to support them. But beyond that, the world of DIY tech beckons, promising innovation, customization, and the thrill of creation.

[best-study-tips-for-students]

13 Study Tips For Students.

Studying effectively is about more than just spending hours with your books. It’s about adopting smart strategies, staying consistent, and caring for your mental and physical health. Whether you’re a high school student or preparing for university exams, these study tips, enhanced with pro strategies, will help you achieve better results.

1. Plan Your Study Time

Creating a schedule is a foundational step for effective learning. A clear plan not only keeps you organized but also reduces procrastination.

Set Daily Goals: Write specific objectives for each session, such as completing a chapter or solving five math problems.

Time Management Techniques: Use the Pomodoro Technique, where you study for 25 minutes and take a 5-minute break.

Balance Subjects: Rotate between subjects to maintain interest and avoid burnout.

Pro Tip: Use apps like Notion or Google Calendar to plan and set reminders for study sessions.

2. Understand Your Learning Style

Everyone learns differently, and identifying your preferred style can significantly boost efficiency.

Visual Learners: Use diagrams, charts, and color-coded notes.

Auditory Learners: Listen to podcasts, record lectures, or teach the material aloud.

Kinesthetic Learners: Engage in hands-on activities like writing, drawing, or creating flashcards.

Pro Tip: Combine learning styles to reinforce information. For example, watch a video on a topic, then summarize it in your notes.

3. Set Up a Productive Study Environment

Your surroundings play a significant role in your focus and productivity.

Keep It Organized: A clean desk minimizes distractions.

Eliminate Noise: Use noise-canceling headphones or work in a quiet area.

Good Lighting: Proper lighting reduces eye strain and keeps you alert.

Pro Tip: Add a personal touch to your study space, such as inspirational quotes, plants, or a vision board, to keep you motivated.

4. Break Down Large Tasks

Facing a mountain of work can feel overwhelming, so breaking it into smaller, manageable tasks is essential.

Chunking: Divide chapters or projects into smaller sections and tackle them one at a time.

Mini Deadlines: Assign yourself smaller deadlines for each chunk to maintain progress.

Pro Tip: Begin with an easier task to build momentum, then transition to harder sections when you’re in the zone.

5. Take Effective Notes

Good notes simplify revision and help you retain information better.

Highlight Key Points: Use different colors to emphasize important details.

Structure Your Notes: Use techniques like the Cornell method to organize your notes efficiently.

Incorporate Visuals: Mind maps, flowcharts, and diagrams can simplify complex topics.

Pro Tip: Rewrite or summarize your notes after class to reinforce learning.

6. Practice Active Learning

Passive reading or rote memorization is often inefficient. Instead, engage actively with the material.

Self-Quizzing: Test yourself regularly to check your understanding.

Teach Others: Explaining a concept to someone else helps you solidify your knowledge.

Solve Problems: Apply theoretical knowledge to practical questions or case studies.

Pro Tip: Record yourself explaining complex topics and listen to them later to reinforce learning.

7. Use Technology Wisely

Leverage modern tools to optimize your study sessions.

Apps for Focus: Use apps like Forest or Focus@Will to stay distraction-free.

Digital Flashcards: Platforms like Quizlet make creating and reviewing flashcards easy.

Online Resources: Access supplemental learning materials from websites like Khan Academy or Coursera.

Pro Tip: Use AI-powered tools like Grammarly to polish essays or Wolfram Alpha for complex problem-solving.

8. Master Time Management

Effective time management can transform your academic performance.

Prioritize Tasks: Focus on high-impact tasks first, such as exam preparation or projects with tight deadlines.

Avoid Multitasking: It reduces efficiency and increases the chance of errors.

Use Deadlines: Even self-imposed deadlines can motivate you to stay on track.

Pro Tip: Reserve your peak productivity hours for difficult tasks. If you’re a morning person, tackle challenging subjects early in the day.

9. Revise Regularly

Repetition is the key to retaining information over time.

Spaced Repetition: Review material periodically instead of cramming it all in one session.

Weekly Reviews: Dedicate time every week to revisit previously learned concepts.

Practice Tests: Simulate exam conditions to build confidence and improve recall.

Pro Tip: Use spaced repetition apps like Anki to schedule revisions for maximum retention.

10. Stay Healthy

Your physical and mental well-being directly impacts your ability to focus and learn.

Eat Smart: Include brain-boosting foods like nuts, blueberries, and fish.

Exercise Regularly: Even 20 minutes of daily physical activity can improve concentration.

Sleep Well: Aim for 7–9 hours to ensure optimal cognitive performance.

Pro Tip: Practice mindfulness or deep-breathing exercises for 5–10 minutes before studying to reduce stress and improve focus.

11. Form Study Groups

Studying with peers can make learning more engaging and effective.

Collaborate: Share ideas, clarify doubts, and solve problems together.

Accountability: Group members keep each other motivated and on track.

Explain Concepts: Teaching others helps reinforce your understanding.

Pro Tip: Keep study groups small (3–5 members) to maintain focus and avoid distractions.

12. Take Breaks Wisely

Continuous studying without breaks can lead to burnout.

Pomodoro Breaks: Take a 5-minute break every 25 minutes, or a 15-minute break after an hour.

Physical Activity: Use breaks to stretch, hydrate, or take a short walk.

Avoid Screens: During breaks, step away from electronic devices to rest your eyes.

Pro Tip: Use your breaks to do something you enjoy, like listening to music or journaling, to recharge effectively.

13. Track Your Progress

Monitoring your performance keeps you motivated and helps you identify areas for improvement.

Maintain a Study Journal: Record daily accomplishments and reflect on what worked.

Set Benchmarks: Check your progress against your goals and adjust strategies as needed.

Reward Yourself: Celebrate small milestones to stay encouraged.

Pro Tip: Use habit-tracking apps to visualize your progress and consistency.

Final Thoughts

Effective studying is about working smarter, not just harder. By following these tips, incorporating pro strategies, and maintaining a balanced lifestyle, you can improve your academic performance and retain information more effectively. Remember, consistency, persistence, and a positive mindset are your greatest allies in the journey of learning.

FAQ

How can I avoid distractions while studying?

Study in a quiet, organized space.

Turn off notifications or put your phone on airplane mode.

Use focus apps like Forest or Freedom to block distracting websites.

Set clear study goals to keep yourself motivated.

Are there specific tools or apps that can help me study better?

For note-taking: Evernote, Notion, OneNote.

For flashcards: Quizlet, Anki.

For focus: Forest, Freedom, Focus@Will.

For productivity: Google Calendar, Trello.

[yamuna111]

Latest Trends in IAS Exam Preparation: How Coimbatore’s Academies Are Adapting to Changes

The Indian Administrative Service (IAS) is one of the most sought-after career choices in India, with thousands of aspirants vying for a place in this prestigious civil services exam every year. As the exam patterns, syllabus, and the overall educational landscape evolve, so must the way IAS coaching is approached. In Coimbatore, a city known for its excellent educational institutions, many students are turning to the best IAS academy in Coimbatore to receive the most effective training for this challenging exam.

The trends in IAS exam preparation are constantly changing, and coaching centers in Coimbatore are adapting to these changes in several ways. Whether it is the incorporation of new technology, updated study materials, or personalized attention, Coimbatore's top coaching institutes are striving to stay ahead of the curve. In this blog, we will explore the latest trends in IAS exam preparation and how Coimbatore’s best IAS academy in Coimbatore is addressing them to offer students an edge in their preparation journey.

1. Embracing Digital Learning Platforms

In recent years, online learning has revolutionized the way students approach IAS exam preparation. With the rise of digital platforms, the best IAS academy in Coimbatore has integrated online resources and virtual classrooms into their coaching programs. These platforms offer a wide range of benefits to both local and outstation students.

Live online classes, recorded lectures, and e-books provide flexibility in learning, allowing students to access high-quality content at their convenience. Furthermore, many institutes are using apps and websites to track students' progress, assign tasks, and facilitate doubt-solving sessions, making learning more interactive and personalized. This shift toward digital learning ensures that students can prepare for the IAS exam at their own pace while having access to top-notch resources, regardless of their location.

2. Incorporation of Current Affairs and Analytical Thinking

The Civil Services Examination has always been heavily dependent on knowledge of current affairs, and it has become even more critical in recent years. The best IAS academy in Coimbatore understands that staying up-to-date with national and international events is essential for success. To this end, coaching centers are now emphasizing current affairs in their curriculum. They are conducting regular sessions on important topics, including government policies, global issues, and socio-economic developments.

Apart from knowledge, the ability to analyze these events critically and write insightful essays and answers is a vital skill for IAS aspirants. Many top coaching institutes in Coimbatore are introducing analytical modules, where students are taught to evaluate news and information from different perspectives. This focus on analytical thinking ensures that students are well-prepared for both the Preliminary and Mains exams, where application of knowledge and critical thinking are heavily tested.

3. Personalized Attention and Smaller Batch Sizes

One of the major trends in IAS preparation is the shift towards smaller batch sizes. The best IAS academy in Coimbatore understands that each student has unique strengths and weaknesses, and personalized attention is crucial for their success. With smaller batches, teachers can offer individual guidance, ensure students are keeping up with the syllabus, and provide extra help to those who need it.

Personalized mentoring sessions have become a staple in many top IAS coaching institutes in Coimbatore. These sessions focus on clearing doubts, offering career advice, and helping students with stress management during the long preparation period. The intimate setting allows for deeper interactions between students and instructors, fostering an environment where students feel supported and motivated.

4. Test Series and Mock Exams for Real-World Practice

To prepare for the IAS exam, consistent practice through mock exams and test series is essential. The best IAS academy in Coimbatore has adapted to this need by incorporating comprehensive test series that simulate the real exam conditions. These mock tests are designed to provide students with valuable practice and help them manage time effectively during the actual examination.

Test series also help identify areas where students may be weak, allowing them to focus their efforts on improving those topics. Institutes in Coimbatore offer both online and offline mock tests, ensuring that students have access to resources regardless of their location. Regular analysis of these tests enables aspirants to fine-tune their preparation strategies and approach the exam with confidence.

5. Focus on Mental Well-being and Stress Management

The IAS exam is known for its intensity, and preparing for it can take a toll on students’ mental health. The best IAS academy in Coimbatore has recognized the importance of mental well-being and is increasingly focusing on stress management techniques. Many coaching centers have introduced yoga, meditation, and mindfulness sessions to help students relax and stay focused.

Additionally, workshops on time management, productivity, and dealing with exam anxiety are regularly conducted to equip students with the tools they need to maintain a balanced approach toward their studies. The emphasis on mental health ensures that students can cope with the rigorous demands of IAS preparation and remain mentally sharp throughout their journey.

6. Updated Study Material and Resources

The Civil Services Examination syllabus is constantly evolving, and so are the resources required for preparation. Coimbatore’s best IAS academy in Coimbatore ensures that their study material is updated regularly to align with the latest syllabus and exam trends. These institutes are constantly reviewing and revising their content to ensure it covers all relevant topics comprehensively and accurately.

From books to online resources, students have access to curated materials that are tailored to meet the demands of the current exam pattern. Institutes in Coimbatore also provide additional resources such as monthly magazines, newspaper subscriptions, and access to e-learning platforms that help students stay informed about the latest developments and trends.

Conclusion

As the IAS exam preparation landscape evolves, Coimbatore’s best IAS academy in Coimbatore continues to adapt to the changing needs of students. From the integration of technology in learning to a greater focus on mental health and stress management, these academies are ensuring that students have access to the most up-to-date resources and strategies for success.

By offering personalized attention, current affairs-based learning, analytical training, and extensive practice through mock exams, coaching centers in Coimbatore are preparing students for the challenges of the IAS exam. Whether you are a local resident or an outstation aspirant, Coimbatore offers some of the finest IAS coaching opportunities to help you achieve your dream of becoming a civil servant.

[ardbar]

yall can ignore this i just need to actually contextualize all of the work i have to do. By that I mean I'm going to speak to myself like an idiot with no time management skills getting a lecture form a parent.

Okay so you have math homework due on wednesday and friday but they're probably only like 3 questions and its just hypothesis testing and you're great at that statistics is easy. You should probably do both of those tomorrow between comparative politics and English. Wait bro don't forget the math quiz next Wednesday

You also have a decent amount of philosophy work to do. For instance a reading and homework on Thursday. While not necessarily due this week you should also do the homework that is due next Tuesday and thursday to get a head start. You also have the philosophy project but you are going to do it throughout next week because that's how its built. Dont you dare wait until friday to finish it we don't have the time for that shit.

There is also Poli sci shit you have to do. While there is no reading due next week there is a project. While it's technically due decemember first we both know you aren't going to actually get any work done over thanksgiving break and I'm not letting us spend the little time we get to see our family and friends researching the history of china and vietnam we aren't doing that shit. Also its a group project and you don't want to seem lazy now do you? Great so you'll get the project done by next friday.

Now we come to the real bitch of it all. We have a paper due next friday and you haven't even started. I don't care how quickly you can write an essay or how much bullshit you can do to bend any number of souces to fit your point we are going to actually spread out the work load. WE have managed to get a perfect score on literally every assignment so far you aren't going to ruin that by being lazy and not wanting to work. You went on a heated rant on one of the assignments complaining about how peer review is shit, remember that? The prossfor commented back that you might just be a better writer that most of the kids in the class. Do you want to prove him wrong? Do you want to seem like all of your prior performances were just flukes? If you fail this know what else do you have?

Every single one of your motivations and goals have been someone elses. You have no dreams or big overarching goals that you picked yourself. But for once in your god forsaken life you took initiative and decided something for yourself. You moved across the country because you wanted something new, right? What will people think if you can't deliver good results? What will you think about yourself? You don't want to be someone who's all talk, someone who failed when they tried to spread their wings.

Look I get it having so much to do in this short of time feels like a lot and is overwhelming I'm literally you I don't want to do any of it either. But we have to. Not only is education a privilege and should be treated as such there are people with a lot harder majors then us who have to do way more work. You don't want to be a fucking chem major do you? Yeah i didn't think so. We should be happy that we have to do essays and research projects instead of stupid labs. Remember struggling with those bio tests? Remember the 70 on the chem final? That could literally be our life if we went into stem be happy that we are a liberal arts kid.

The best I can offer you is we do no more work today and get started on all of it tomorrow. IF and only if we promise to actually use our time effectively, no wasting time on tiktok. I know our ADHD makes it difficult to work but imagine how nice it will be when all of the work is over. We'll have so much time to waste by doom scrolling on tiktok.

P.S

also bro don't forget to submit the request to add the second major. I know it sounds like it will be a lot of work but it will be really cool and pretentious to say you are a political science and philosophy major. Doesn't that sound like fun? You love being a little shit who thinks they are worth a damn purely because you are decent in school, that's like your whole gimmick that and being a bitch. Also your profsor literally told you he would be your advisour if you need one, that was so nice of him. You don't want to ignore his good will now do you? Yeahhhh so get your shit together