#he gets stuck with the nerds a lot

[does-not-have-milk]

I want everyone to know that I did not look at a single reference photo for any of these characters so don't yell at me about Jay's hair. I don't even know what a Beninjamin is

[a-host-of-dancing-daffodils]

And because I recently read the Chocolate Box...Please enjoy one of the only things I feel like the show did right with this particular story...

Poirot looking super dapper in his Belgian police uniform:

The cut of this uniform is very flattering on him, I must say...especially with the way it accentuates his chest, his waist, and his ''''''''seat''''''''

And I love the design on the collar/sleeves. Very fancy/official

also. please look at his very silly official hat

Gotta say. Hugh Fraser may have been the eye candy of this show, but. David Suchet sure knows how to be pretty, too

[fushitoru]

worth the wait a nerdjo fic

pairing ⸺ nerd/academic rival/rich boy!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ you abhor your academic rival, satoru gojo. he's a cocky asshole that you fight with constantly for the spot at first place. but when you finally discover what's underneath all those lame sweaters of his with a once in a blue moon visit at the gym (spoiler alert: he's not a scrawny nerd), you'll be fighting your severe attraction to the man who makes your life a bit harder. and maybe fall in love with him, too, in the process.

warnings ⸺ smut, f recieving oral, praise, he makes you beg for it lol, p i v sex, making out, angst if you squint, a lot of fluff, college AU, nerd!gojo, reader gets insecure sometimes and is treated horribly by her discord mod TA/research advisor, typical misogyny/sexism in STEM fields, but gojo defends her!!!, sleeper build gojo with a happy trail because im a slut, the good old pining and yearning i like. art by @/deltapork

a/n thank u to all my beta readers for editing part of this for me :3 happy valentines day!!!

general masterlist

You blink at your paper.

98.

You suppose you should be happy—it’s a graduate level physics class, anyways. For a moment, you stare at the red markings of the TA that graded it, as if willing an error in the one problem you made a mistake on could make it go away. 

2+2=5.

You exhaled sharply, almost fighting back tears. You’d think you could avoid simple arithmetic mistakes, but apparently doing tensor products comes easier than simple addition to you. Shoving your backpack on your chair, you stuff in your laptop and the test haphazardly, not caring that it’s going to get messed and crumpled up in your backpack after your folders and binders jostle around. Fuck that test.

You wouldn’t normally act as if the test had personally wronged you—trust, you were not going to get that heated were it any class. But because of this one class, one person, you knew it was coming. The inevitable.

"Better luck next time." The voice, drenched in smug satisfaction, slithered through the air behind you, his voice and demeanor like a slimy, slimy snake. 

Your jaw tightened, but you forced yourself to remain calm as you turned around. And there he was—Gojo Satoru, the bane of your existence, a plague upon your academic record, a walking, talking statistical anomaly who somehow managed to be both infuriatingly brilliant and aggressively insufferable.

He leaned against the desk beside yours, glasses sliding down just enough to reveal the glint of those ridiculously blue eyes. He crosses his arms while they’re covered in that ridiculous, ugly sweater he’s wearing—he’s probably going for the old money aesthetic, but he doesn’t need to know he gives off more “finance bro that helps billionaires evade taxes,” or whatever finance bros do.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you sniff, pretending to act nonchalant while you grab your backpack, swinging it roughly on your shoulder like it was the weight of your grievances against him.

"The test." Gojo unfolded a crisp sheet of paper with the kind of theatrical flourish reserved for revealing royal decrees. A perfect 100, circled in bold red ink.

Your stomach twisted. This is what those two points meant. Two stupid, meaningless, soul-crushing, rage-inducing points.

"Guess that makes it… what, five to three this semester?" He tapped his chin, pretending to count, as if the score wasn’t already seared into your brain like an irreversible branding. "My lead, obviously. But hey, if you ever need tutoring, I could always squeeze you in."

You bite the inside of your cheek in frustration. “I wouldn’t want to impose on the time for any of your hobbies. After all, when will you get the time to watch anime? My 5000 Year Old Girlfriend is Stuck in a Twelve Year Old’s Body, was it?”

He presses a hand to his chest in mock hurt, as if your words had truly pierced him through his chest. “Tut, tut. After all this time, I’d think you’d have my anime preferences memorized since you’re so obsessed with me. It’s Digimon, not whatever pedophilic shit you think I jerk off too.” He pauses, and then his voice drops into a conspiratorial whisper. “But you know Fred, the grad student TA that holds recitation every Wednesday? I just know he’s probably a Discord mod of a server that sends, like, daily tentacle porn. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s on the Megan's law registry either.”

Now, you have to hold back your smile because Gojo has a point. Fred is not just any TA. Fred is the grad student that mentors you on a research project; the program’s super selective, so when you realized you got him, you couldn’t just back out and give up the opportunity. However, Fred isn’t just a weird–-he’s sooo handsy with his greasy ass hands, so you accept any and all Fred slander. Because he’s your research advisor, you can’t wait to finish the project any faster. He probably would be into underage girls, but you don’t need to express your approval to Gojo, or worst of all, let him think he’s funny. God knows that would get into his head. “Yea, yea. Whatever. Anyways, I hope you have fun with your Pokemon—”

“Digimon.”

“—or whatever. I’m leaving. Some of us have things to do. Later, Gojo.”

You turned on your heel, lest Gojo hook you in with another taunt. 

Maybe you needed to blow off some steam, if you’re allowing yourself to lose to Gojo. 

Worst of all, it’s become a streak, like two times in a row—one on this quiz, and the other on the midterm a few weeks back. Your mind goes back to the last women in STEM recruiting event you had went to, and, how, in the middle of taking a bite of the delicious margherita pizza they offered, you registered that the woman in the panel had insisted that what helped her power through her PhD and dickwad supervisors was by exercising. Her fervor over pilates could almost qualify as a cult pitch, but it made you pause at the moment. Before you continued to further engorge yourself on the food offered on the charcuterie board. 

But maybe it was time to hone your focus in, and some sweaty endorphins might help you get just that. 

You’re not really surprised the demographic at your university’s gym looks like the way it does. After all, not only was it renowned for its academics (from all the nepo babies like Gojo whose families donated buildings and had like four generations of alumnus), but it was also a Division I school. So not only was the gym packed but it was packed with men.

As you walked in the hallway towards the room that contained weight machines, gym bag slung over your shoulder, you eyed the glistening backs of the (D1, mind you) men’s swim team through the glass that separated your path and the swimming pool. 

Wow, those Speedos really hugged their asses. You imagined Gojo in one, and almost snorted. Rich boy nerd Satoru definitely didn’t  learn how to swim; his family’s mansion probably had a twenty year old personal lifeguard that Gojo lost his virginity to, or something. Regardless, he would squint in his silly swim goggles, the exact antithesis of sex appeal while his glow-in-the-dark eyes lit up the pool while he stroked, cheeks puffed like a pufferfish.

Regardless, the smell of testosterone that hits you when you enter the weight area is almost nauseating, and, if you’re honest, a little intimidating. You’re not exactly the fittest of people, so you quickly speed walk past the grunting and sweaty men at the squat machines and barbells, avoiding eye contact and praying furiously that none of them perceive you.

 When you reach the dumbbell stands, you hunch over, taking random light weights. Then, you pretend you know what you’re doing while jumping every so slightly whenever anyone comes in six foot distance of you. It’s only when another girl comes in to grab a weight (and when she bends over, you definitely ogle her ass in a way that would get you slapped if you were a man) that your gaze removes itself from where it was focused on the 2.5 lb dumbbell you were previously bicep curling with. To see him.

The glint of ivory hair is unmistakable—you’ve basically gotten off to the fantasy of razoring it off in his sleep. His blue eyes are bored, pretty boy face framed in glasses. Now, he’s giving teenage boy turned to Andrew Tate after a breakup. Black sweatshirt and sweatpants that are too small, because they cling to his legs in a form-defining way. He’s walking over, hands in his pockets, to a barbell station. Slaps some guys on the shoulder as he goes through, gets a lot of daps. 

Which is weird to you, because you only the Gojo inside your physics class, not outside. He’s a fucking nerd—a loser that spends his time beefing with you, so why is he so popular when he gives you the time of day?

There are three dimensions to gaining alpha status, or whatever they call male popularity. You have to be 1) rich, 2) really physically fit, or 3) just really charismatic. Considering that Gojo—in all his clothing—-looks like a twink moreso than ripped gym bro, it’s definitely not dimension two. So you conclude that it’s because he’s rich and probably throws yacht parties so these ripped guys don’t push him into a locker, or something.

When he finally reaches his destination, you smirk to yourself. With that scrawny build underneath all those loose sweaters, you know he’s only going to be able to lift the bar, no plates. After all, he was warming up. insulting Gojo in countless of ways by taking jabs at his physique mentally, so you barely register that he’s grabbing for the hem of his sweatshirt, peeling it up—

To reveal his bare torso.

Your first thought: Wow, he has huge bazonkas.

That has easily got to be one of the most built physiques you’ve seen at your college so far. His pectorals basically pop out out of his torso as he moves to grab plates. First, he grabs a really big plate—you’re not a gym expert, so you wouldn’t know the weight—and stacks it. And stacks another. And another. And another, until you’re sure it’s definitely more than your bodyweight.

As you’re staring at him in awe, your 2.5 lb dumbbells hang limply by your sides, abandoning all pretense of training to openly gawk at the clench of his biceps, the sweat rolling down his temple, and the set of his jaw as he stares holes into the bar. And by the way there’s heat creeping up your cheeks you realize one thing:

You’re screwed.

“You know what?”

You keep your eyes on your notes firmly, refusing to look at Gojo sitting right next to you. You don’t know why he always chooses to sit next to you on recitation, really—it’s not like you’re receptive to his company. After all, he could be doing other things—like metaphorically sucking a TA’s dick by talking about their research, where Gojo probably knows more about the TA’s research than they do themselves. 

From your periphery, you notice Gojo pouting, then scooting his chair (dragging it, so it makes a god awful screeching noise against the floor tiles that has you cringing) until he’s so close that he slings an arm on the back of your chair and leans in closer and closer. You’re fighting to keep your eyes on your notes, face heating up traitorously until you feel his breath fan across your neck because he’s just so close.

“Rude, ignoring me. Look where that got you.” He then points to a problem on your paper, one you were currently working on. “You’re doing that wrong.”

You finally turn to glare at him, but he’s closer than you anticipated, his face just inches from yours. His grin is all sharp edges and knowing amusement, and it makes your stomach flip in a way you refuse to acknowledge.

“I’m not doing it wrong,” you argue, despite the creeping suspicion that, okay, maybe you did mess up somewhere.

“Oh, really?” Gojo drawls, tilting his head slightly. “Then why is your integral off by a factor of two?”

Your eyes snap back to your notes, scanning through the equations—and, dammit, he’s right.

You huff, begrudgingly erasing the mistake. “Whatever.”

“You know, you should really be thanking me,” Gojo muses, still leaning way too close for comfort. “If I weren’t here, who knows how many mistakes you’d make?”

“She’d have me,” comes a greasy voice, and you have to fight the tears in your eyes that arise when Fred (the aforementioned pedophilic TA and your research advisor) comes, his moldy cheese stench following him as he takes a seat from across you and Gojo. You grudgingly turn your face away from where it was so close to Gojo’s to look at him and sigh inwardly. At least Gojo’s face was prettier to look at.

“Hi, Fred,” you smile tightly, willing him to go away. “We’re good here, so you can help out other students—”

“How was your weekend?” He instead replies, and you wince. Stealing a quick glance at Gojo, it seems that his jaw and posture are uncharacteristically tense. 

“Lot of work for the class and for, uh, our research,” you respond, nodding and averting your gaze to your paper and feigning working on a problem so that he would get the hint.

Fred, unfortunately, does not get the hint. Instead, he leans forward, elbows on the table, eyes too focused on you. “You really ought to take breaks, you know. You can give me the code late. Someone as cute as you shouldn’t stress so much. You’ll get wrinkles.”

Your fingers tighten around your pencil, your skin crawling at the way his tone veers into something too familiar, too patronizing. You open your mouth to give a clipped response, but Gojo beats you to it.

“Oh? Didn’t know you were an expert on skincare, Fred,” Gojo drawls, his voice deceptively light. His arm, which was still resting on the back of your chair, shifts just slightly—not quite pulling you in, but making his presence more noticeable. “Though, if we’re giving out advice, maybe you should take your own. I mean, stress must be rough on you too, right? All those late nights grading papers, staring at screens. Takes a toll.”

Fred bristles, but Gojo just smiles lazily, pushing up his glasses as he tilts his head. “Actually, you know what? Maybe we should all focus on our own business. Like, say, teaching, instead of weirdly hovering over students. Crazy thought, huh?”

You swear you see the muscle in Fred’s jaw twitch, but he forces out an awkward chuckle, shifting uncomfortably. “Right, right. Just looking out for her.”

“Don’t worry,” Gojo interrupts smoothly, now fully leaning into your space, his arm draping a little lower behind your chair, “I think she’s got plenty of people looking out for her already.” His voice is soft, but there’s an undeniable edge beneath the words.

Fred lingers for a second too long, but finally, he mutters something about helping another student and stands, walking off with an air of forced nonchalance.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, slumping slightly in your seat. Gojo hums beside you, his fingers tapping idly against the back of your chair.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” he teases, but there’s something in his tone that’s softer than usual. He then makes a show of stretching, raising his arms. His sweater rides up a bit, exposing his lower abs and peeks of white that has you averting your gaze, the heat creeping up at his proximity once again. Then, his arm back on your chair. Weirdly, you find that you don’t mind it.

You sigh, resigned. You’ll figure out these feelings later. “Yeah. Thanks, Gojo.”

But you don’t immediately go back to your work, because Gojo suddenly hunches down and whispers in your ear. “Yea, I definitely saw an underage anime girl sticker on his laptop.”

Your responding snort is so loud everyone turns to look at you and Gojo, who is now sporting a mischievous and satisfied smile.

It starts with a single drop, fat and cold where it splats against your wrist. You glance up from your phone just in time to see the sky split open.

“Shit,” you mutter, stuffing your phone into your bag. The library doors shut behind you with a heavy clang, sealing away the scent of old books and the quiet hum of studying students. Outside, the air is thick with the petrichor of freshly fallen rain, and within seconds, the pavement is slick, puddles forming in the uneven cracks of the sidewalk. The streetlights reflect off the wet ground, casting fragmented golden glows against the darkening sky. You’d been studying to grind for the upcoming assignments; after all, to rival Gojo is a no small feat. It’s just unfortunate it seems to take you thousand times more effort than it does for Gojo.

“Guess we’re stuck together, huh?”

You don’t have to turn to know who it is.

Satoru Gojo, standing beside you under the library’s narrow overhang, wearing that insufferable grin like he’s amused by the entire situation. Like the rain personally fell from the sky just to give him an opportunity to bother you.

“I’ll take my chances,” you say flatly, shifting your bag on your shoulder. But as you peer past the downpour, your stomach sinks. The rain is merciless, an unrelenting sheet of water stretching as far as you can see. There’s no way you’re making it back to your dorm without looking like you took a fully clothed shower.

Gojo hums, pulling something out of his bag. You blink when he flicks open a half-broken umbrella, the metal ribs slightly bent like it’s barely holding itself together. He gives it a little shake, sending droplets flying, before glancing at you with a smirk.

“Well?” He lifts a brow. “Wanna be smart about this?”

You do not want to be smart about this. You want to wait out the rain or make a break for it. But the storm shows no signs of letting up, and the thought of walking through it alone makes you hesitate.

Reluctantly, you sigh. “Fine. But I get most of the cover.”

“Hey, sharing is caring.” He tilts the umbrella slightly, just enough to make a point.

With great reluctance, you step closer. The moment you do, you regret it.

Gojo is warm. Even in the damp, chilled air, he radiates heat, standing so close that his sleeve brushes against yours. He smells good, too—like expensive laundry detergent with a faint undercurrent of something sweet, something distinctly him.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to stare straight ahead as the two of you start walking. The rain pounds against the umbrella, droplets cascading off the edges, and with every step, you’re hyper-aware of the way Gojo moves beside you—loose-limbed, annoyingly graceful, a stark contrast to the crooked metal above your heads.

“Man, this thing’s on its last leg,” he muses, tilting the umbrella just slightly. Water dribbles off the side, landing directly onto your shoulder.

“Gojo!” you yelp, recoiling as the cold soaks through your shirt.

“Oops.” He does not sound remotely sorry.

You glare at him, but before you can snap back, he shrugs off his jacket and—without preamble—drapes it over you.

You freeze.

It’s warm, still carrying the heat of his body, and it smells so much like him—clean, sweet, dizzyingly familiar. Your brain short-circuits.

You force yourself to breathe, keeping your gaze firmly ahead. “You didn’t have to do that,” you say, voice tight.

“I wanted to.”

Something in his tone makes your stomach flip. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, and—

Damn him. Damn him.

Water drips from his bangs, clinging to the sharp edges of his jawline, sliding down the curve of his throat. His shirt sticks to his skin, fabric clinging in a way that reveals the toned lines of his arms, the broad plane of his chest. He’s watching the rain, the usual teasing glint in his eyes softened into something contemplative.

You swear your eggs just recently got released, for you cannot help but avoid your ever going attraction to Satoru Gojo except the age-old excuse: ovulation. Your mind wanders to how his arms would feel around your head, to lay on his chest, how he’d be able to manhandle you, force you to take it—

But you’re snapped out of your inappropriate thoughts by what he says next.

“You know,” he says, voice quieter now, “I like this. Just us, no grades, no competing.”

You pause.

He says it so simply, so easily, like it’s nothing at all. But the words settle deep, curling somewhere warm inside you, and you don’t know what to do with them.

So you do what you do best: you shove them away, bury them beneath years of rivalry, of late-night study sessions fueled by caffeine and stubbornness, of sharp words and sharper glances.

You roll your eyes, forcing a scoff. “Don’t get used to it.”

But even as you say it, your fingers curl into the fabric of his jacket, holding it a little tighter.

It’s been a week since you saw Gojo. He had dropped you at your dorm in a surprisingly gentlemanly way, and you had insisted on returning the jacket only after washing it, to be courteous. What you didn’t mention was how you kept repeatedly smelling it in your dorm whenever you got a reprieve from your roommate’s eyes because Gojo smelled like expensive cologne and he did one thing most nerds / physics majors don’t do: shower. This fact, unfortunately, made you more attracted to him because the bar is truly in hell.

You’ve concluded that these…feelings can’t hurt you and that it isn’t real, like a beefy and shirtless Gojo-looking demon that’ll jump and surprise you from under your bed. So you move on your life, caught in the ever perpetual slog of studying and researching. 

Thus, you find yourself at the library once more.

The night hums low around you, quiet except for the occasional shuffle of paper and the distant hum of the library’s espresso machine (only librarians could use it, however. you fervently thought that was a form of elitism, but you digress). You’re at the corner table, the one by the window, where the dim light pools just enough to illuminate your notes but not enough to make you feel like you’re being studied under a microscope. You think you’re alone—until you aren’t.

You don’t have to look up to know it’s him.

Satoru Gojo is hard to miss, even when he’s not trying. He slides into the chair across from you with the kind of ease that makes it seem like he belongs there, like he was always going to end up sitting across from you tonight. His hair is tousled, white strands falling forward in a way that makes him look softer under the warm light. His glasses are perched low on his nose, a rare sight given that he usually has them pushed up like some kind of pretentious scholar.

The two of you don’t speak.

It’s surprising, really. Gojo never runs out of things to say, whether it’s an obnoxious quip or some unnecessarily insightful observation that makes you want to throw your textbook at his face. But tonight, he just pulls out his own notes, taps his pen against the edge of his lips, and starts reading.

You should focus on your own studying, but something about this—this silence, this late-night haze, this tiny moment carved out of time—makes your mind wander. You steal glances when you think he won’t notice. His brows furrow when he’s concentrating, his jaw tightens when he’s stuck on something, and when he exhales, it’s this slow, measured thing, like he’s trying not to get frustrated. He’s just—

He’s just really there.

You’ve spent years defining Gojo as your rival. Your competition. The person standing in your way at every academic milestone. And yet, somehow, somewhere, he’s slipped into something else, something harder to define. Because you’ve seen him like this before—when he’s so focused that he forgets the world around him, when he bites his lip in thought, when he gets so caught up in something that he mutters under his breath without realizing it. And for the first time, it dawns on you: you don’t actually hate it.

You don’t hate this comfortable silence. This moment of peace, a white flag waving lazily between you both.

The hours blur. The café starts to empty. Your notes turn into background noise. It’s late, and the warmth from inside lulls you into something dangerously close to comfort.

A soft sound breaks through the quiet.

You glance up and freeze.

Gojo’s head has tilted to the side, his glasses slipping slightly down the bridge of his nose. His hand is curled loosely around his pen, and his breathing has evened out. He’s asleep.

For a moment, you don’t move. You barely breathe.

Gojo, asleep, is not something you’ve seen before. He’s always in motion, always buzzing with energy, always running his mouth about something. But right now, he’s still. His long lashes cast faint shadows over his cheekbones, and the tension he always carries—the cocky bravado, the smirking sharpness—is nowhere to be found. He just looks… peaceful.

Cutie.

What?

The thought slips in so quickly, so effortlessly, that it nearly makes you jolt. But when you look at him again—head tilted just slightly, glasses slipping down his nose, breathing slow and even—you can’t deny that the word fits. He looks like a lazy cat napping in a sunbeam, limbs loose, utterly unguarded. It’s so unlike him that you find yourself staring, caught in the contrast.

Your fingers twitch. Before you can stop yourself, you reach forward, slow and hesitant, to push his glasses back up his nose. But you catch yourself just before you touch him, as if the warmth of his skin might burn. Your hand hovers in the air for a fraction of a second too long, and then—

You pull away.

Your heart is pounding. It’s fine. It’s nothing. You just need to get out of here.

You gather your things quietly, glancing back at him one last time before slipping out the door into the cool night air. The moment you step outside, you take a breath, deep and shaking. The world feels different now. You feel different now.

Because for the first time, it isn’t just that you find Gojo attractive.

It’s that you care.

And you don’t know what the hell to do about it.

The gym, once again, smells like sweat and overpriced protein powder.

You don’t know what’s possessed you to come here today. Maybe it’s because you keep telling yourself that you need to exercise more, or maybe it’s because you need to take a break from studying before your brain melts. But deep down, if you’re really being honest with yourself, you know the real reason.

Gojo is here.

You spotted him the first time by accident. You were on the treadmill, barely jogging at a pace that wouldn’t embarrass you, when you caught a flash of white hair across the gym floor. And there he was—dressed in a fitted black sleeveless top and joggers, casually loading plates onto a barbell.

And he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

It was a stupid, inconsequential detail, but it made all the difference. Without them, he didn’t look like the annoying academic rival who constantly got under your skin, flashing his smug grin as he beat you in exams by the smallest possible margins. He looked… sharp. Unfiltered. Effortlessly attractive in a way that made your stomach tighten in ways you didn’t like.

You��d seen him in his regular clothes before, of course. You knew he had broad shoulders and long legs, that his body wasn’t just a lanky frame hidden behind layers of sweaters. But here, in the gym, watching him roll his shoulders as he prepped for another set—it hit differently. He was lean but muscular, his arms flexing as he adjusted his grip on the bar, and for some godforsaken reason, you couldn’t look away.

You shouldn’t be watching him. You should be focusing on your own workout, pretending you don’t care. But the way his shirt clung to his back, the way his forearms tensed, the way he exhaled sharply as he lifted—

You’re so screwed.

You force yourself to look away, grabbing the smallest dumbbells available and curling them in what has to be the weakest excuse for a workout imaginable. You’re barely paying attention to what you’re doing, too busy sneaking glances at Gojo between sets. It’s pathetic, but at least no one else is watching you.

Or so you think.

Because then she appears.

A girl.

Tall, toned, and effortlessly gorgeous, with sleek hair pulled into a high ponytail. She strides over to Gojo with a confidence you could never dream of and smiles at him, saying something that makes him laugh. Her ass is definitely bigger than yours, and she’s in this coordinated, cute, pink set, looking like she walked straight out of a fitness TikTok. You can’t hear what they’re talking about over the sound of weights clanking and some obnoxious EDM song blasting through the speakers, but you can see it. The way she leans in, the way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the way Gojo—

—smiles at her. That easy, lazy grin he always wears when he’s teasing you, except this time, it isn’t for you.

Your grip tightens around the dumbbells, something ugly curling in your chest. It gets worse when she gestures toward the squat rack, and Gojo nods before moving behind her, hands hovering just slightly as she sets up for a squat. You watch as he spots her, one hand resting lightly on her lower back, close enough to correct her form but far enough to be polite. He’s focused, watching her movements carefully, murmuring something that makes her laugh before she drops into another rep.

Your stomach twists.

This is stupid. You have no reason to be feeling this way.

It’s then that it hits you—you can have your silly little academic rival moments with Gojo, but, in the end, you’re just a footnote in his story, a fleeting challenge in a life where everything already belongs to him. He quite literally has generational wealth; he’s not going to spend his life buried in grant applications or clawing for recognition in a field that demands twice the effort for half the reward. He’ll be the one funding the research, sitting at the head of the table, making decisions that shape the future. And you? You’ll be one of the many who struggle just to be in the same room.

He’s the guy who spends his vacations on yachts or private islands—not just surrounded by wealth, but by people who belong there. Girls who glide through life with the same effortless ease as him, girls who don’t second-guess if they deserve to be in the spaces they occupy. Girls who don’t have to fight for their place at the table because it was always set for them.

Girls that are his equal—equally attractive, equally smart, equally rich.

Not you.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to look away, but the image is burned into your mind. The easy way he talks to her. The way she tilts her head when she listens. The way he doesn’t even know you’re here.

You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t care.

But you do.

You grip the dumbbells tighter, exhaling sharply. Then you put them back, pick up your water bottle, and walk out of the gym before you do something stupid.

The office is too small. Too suffocating. Too filled with the weight of unspoken words and the sharp-edged smile of Fred, the TA, as he leans back in his chair and laces his fingers together.

"You know," he begins, voice sickly sweet, "I really expected more from you."

You sit stiffly in the chair across from him, your hands curled into fists in your lap, nails digging crescents into your skin. Your heart pounds, but your face remains carefully neutral. You've been called into his office under the guise of "academic guidance," but you know better. You always know better.

"I don't know what you mean," you say, keeping your voice even.

Fred exhales dramatically, shaking his head. "Come on. You and I both know you're barely keeping up in this project of ours."

You grit your teeth. You're not barely keeping up. You're giving him your work at the highest level, at its best. But Fred—Fred has always had a way of twisting things, making you feel small, insignificant, like your achievements are nothing more than accidents.

“I think my progress speaks for itself,” you respond tightly. Mind you, while he was supposed to be your mentor, you’ve done 80% of the work.

But you think Gojo’s defense of you ran deep into Fred’s heart because by the way he’s sleazily smirking at you, you know he’s trying to get back at you.

He smirks. "Your progress? Sure, you’re smart. But you think that’s enough? You think anyone’s going to care about a girl like you when there are people out there who don’t have to struggle to be exceptional?" He leans forward, voice dropping into something conspiratorial. "You’re wasting your time. The best you can hope for is being someone’s assistant. Maybe a glorified research grunt if you’re lucky. Just like for me."

Your stomach twists. You shouldn’t care. You know you shouldn’t care. But the words burrow deep, hitting a place inside you that already doubts, that already wonders if you’re nothing more than a temporary obstacle in a world built for people like Gojo Satoru—people born brilliant, born wealthy, born effortless.

Fred’s eyes flick over you, assessing, smug. "You’re working yourself to the bone for what? You’ll never be at the top. Not really."

The bitterness of the situation really dawns on you—Gojo’s the one who took a jab at Fred last week, not you. But you’re the one who’s left to deal with its consequences. You’re not going to assign blame and lament that it’s not Gojo in this office dealing with him. It was in your defense, after all. 

But Fred’s words remind you. You’ll never be at the top. At Gojo’s level, who’s at the top without even seeming to put in effort.

You’ll never be his equal.

You stand abruptly, shoving your chair back so hard it scrapes against the floor. "If that’s all, I have work to do."

Fred chuckles, leaning back, clearly pleased with himself. "Sure, sure. Don’t say I never tried to give you advice."

You don’t respond. You just walk out, gripping your bag so tightly your knuckles turn white, the echo of his words following you down the hall, settling in your bones like lead.

The hallway is too bright. Too loud. Too full of people who don’t know that you’re on the verge of crumpling in on yourself like a dying star.

Your breath feels too shallow, too quick, and there’s a weight pressing down on your chest that no amount of rationalizing can shake off. It’s not even your meeting with Fred—just a slow accumulation of stress and exhaustion and frustration that’s settled deep in your bones. A grade lower than expected, an upcoming deadline you’re nowhere near prepared for, a general sense of drowning no matter how hard you try to keep up. It’s all too much, and your hands are starting to shake from how tightly you’re gripping the strap of your bag.

You just need to get out of here. You need air, space, something.

But, of course, the universe has a cruel sense of humor, because when you round the corner, you slam straight into Satoru Gojo.

“Whoa—”

Your balance is already precarious from the way you were rushing, and the impact sends you stumbling. For a split second, you think you might actually fall—your ankle twists awkwardly, the world tilts—and then there’s a strong hand gripping your wrist, another bracing against your back, steadying you before you can hit the ground.

You don’t process what happens immediately. Your mind is still stuck on too much, too fast, can’t breathe, and it takes you a second to realize that Gojo is holding you upright, his hands firm but careful, his expression hovering somewhere between amusement and concern.

“Jeez, what’s the rush?” he teases, but his voice lacks its usual careless lilt. He’s searching your face now, eyes narrowing behind his glasses, and that’s when you realize: you must look as bad as you feel.

Shit.

You jerk away from him, a little too fast, a little too sharp. “I’m fine.”

Gojo doesn’t look convinced. “You sure? Because it kinda seemed like you were about to pass out on the spot.”

“I said I’m fine.” You adjust your bag over your shoulder, shifting your weight onto your other foot, ignoring the faint throb in your ankle. “Go bother someone else.”

Most of the time, that’s enough to send him off with an exaggerated sigh and a smirk. But not today.

Today, Gojo just stands there, watching you like he’s trying to piece something together—like you’re a problem he wants to solve. He doesn’t press, not yet, but the silence stretches, and it’s unbearable, because you can feel the weight of his gaze, and you don’t want to be seen like this. Not by him.

So you give him a tight nod in dismissal, and walk away.

There’s a knock at your door. You frown because you didn’t expect any visitors, and you’re in your sleepwear. Regardless, you pad your way lazily and open the door.

To see Gojo.

What the fuck.

He’s drenched in the glow of the hallway light, looking entirely too at home despite standing on your threshold. His hair is still slightly damp from the rain, white strands falling over his forehead in careless disarray. He’s not wearing his glasses.

"Why are you here?" you demand, gripping the doorframe, willing your voice to stay steady.

He quirks an eyebrow, tilting his head just slightly. “You’re holding my jacket hostage.”

Oh. Right.

You make your way to your wardrobe, where the now-cleaned jacket hangs neatly on a hanger. Grabbing it, you hand it over to Gojo, who’s standing at your threshold while eyeing the insides of your dorm, as if trying to take in what your living space looks like. You shove it into his chest, stepping back like the heat of it burns. "Here."

Gojo takes it, but instead of leaving like a normal person, he lingers, running his fingers over the material like he’s checking for something. Then,, he lifts a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it in that way that only makes his biceps flex, his lean muscles shifting beneath his shirt. You hate that you notice.

A beat passes.

"You know," he muses, far too casually, "you seemed a little disheveled back there."

Your stomach twists. "It's not a big deal—"

"—Bullshit." His voice cuts through yours, sharp and immediate. He shifts, stepping just the tiniest bit closer, his tone losing its usual teasing lilt. “You’re lying. I saw what you looked like. What happened?”

“It's none of your business,” you say, stiffening. “Nor is it a big deal, really.”

Gojo exhales, something heavy in the sound. His eyes don’t leave yours, and for once, they aren’t filled with their usual mirth or mischief. Just something searching, something that makes your chest ache in a way you don’t have the strength to deal with right now.

"You always do that," he says, softer now, but no less intense. “Act like no one’s supposed to care. Like you’re carrying the world alone.”

Your fingers curl into your palms. Your lips press together. You don’t want to hear this. You don’t want to acknowledge the way his words settle too close to the truth.

And then, quietly, Gojo asks, “Do you not consider me your equal?”

You swallow.

Your silence must be enough of an answer because something shifts in his expression. It isn’t anger exactly, but it’s something close—something bitter and disappointed and aching all at once.

"You’re the one who shuts me out, you know." His voice is sharp now, edged with frustration. "You act like I'm the one keeping you at a distance, but every time I try to get close, you push me away."

Your throat tightens. “Why do you even care?”

Gojo lets out a breath, his head tilting just slightly, eyes scanning your face like you’re something he’s trying to figure out. Then he laughs, quiet and humorless.

“You really don’t know?”

“I—” Your voice wavers. “What do you mean—”

“For a girl so smart, you sure do act stupid.” He steps forward then, closing the space between you just enough to make you want to back away, but your feet don’t move. His voice drops lower. "Do you think I talk to you because I give a fuck about physics?"

Your brain short-circuits. “What—”

He groans, dragging a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I give zero fucks about the class or any class, trust me. I have better things to do than to try to aim for 100s on every test."

Your heart is pounding now, too loud, too fast. “Then why—”

"God," he exhales, tipping his head back, like he's debating whether or not he should even say it. Then, after a beat, he looks at you again, and whatever is in his eyes makes your stomach flip, makes your breath hitch.

Something in your chest lurches, but before you can even process it, he huffs a laugh—like he’s just remembered something ridiculous.

"You didn’t even look my way the first week," he says, eyes flicking over your face, searching. "I could tell you only cared about anyone that could challenge you. Like, it wasn’t even until I did better than you on the second midterm that you even talked to me."

You open your mouth, then close it, heat prickling at the back of your neck. Because—yeah. He’s not wrong. You had ignored him, dismissed him as just another overconfident rich kid who thought he was smarter than he was. It wasn’t until he proved himself, until he became a real obstacle in your path, that you bothered to acknowledge him.

Gojo smiles, but it’s not cocky this time—it’s small, almost rueful. "And then you looked at me like I was finally real. Like I existed."

Your breath hitches.

He shrugs, eyes dropping for a brief second before snapping back up to yours. "So, yeah. Maybe I started trying harder. Maybe I cared about all those stupid tests because it meant I got to see that fire in your eyes, that I got to be the one you were pushing against." He rubs the back of his neck, his biceps flexing in a way that would usually annoy you, but right now, you’re too busy trying to remember how to breathe.

Gojo stares at you for a long moment, gaze unwavering, like he’s daring you to say something—anything.

Your chest feels too tight, your pulse erratic, and you don’t know what to do with the way Gojo is looking at you—like you’re something precious, something worth holding onto.

But he’s wrong. He has to be wrong.

“You can’t like me,” you whisper.

Gojo frowns, expression shifting. “What?”

Your throat clenches, and before you can stop it, heat pricks at your eyes, blurring your vision. “You can’t like me,” you say again, voice cracking. “I can’t even match you.”

Gojo's face slackens, his teasing demeanor completely gone.

"You do everything so effortlessly," you force out, your fists clenching at your sides. "It’s so infuriating." A shaky breath escapes you, and you shake your head, looking down. “So why would you even want this? You make me feel this way, and I—I hate you for it.”

For a second, there’s only silence.

Then, Gojo exhales softly.

“Is that what you think?” His voice is so gentle it makes something inside you ache.

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Gojo shifts, stepping forward slowly, carefully, like you’re something fragile. And then—then he reaches out, his fingers ghosting along your wrist before curling around it, grounding you. “It’s not effortless,” he murmurs. “I try so hard. You just don’t see it because I don’t want you to.”

"You really don’t get it, do you?" His voice is quieter now, something dangerously close to vulnerable. His fingers twitch at his sides. "I care because it’s you."

You shake your head, still not understanding, still unable to believe it.

Gojo watches you for a moment, then exhales, running a hand through his hair. “You act like I just woke up one day and decided to like you.” He huffs a quiet laugh, but there’s no real amusement in it. “Do you know how long I’ve been stuck on you? How infuriating it was, realizing that no matter how much attention I got, the only person I wanted it from was too busy treating me like an obstacle?”

Your breath catches.

“I tried everything,” he continues, voice rougher now. “Teasing you, annoying you, beating you in tests, losing to you in tests. It didn’t matter what I did, because you—” He breaks off, shaking his head. “You only saw me when I gave you a reason to compete.”

Your fingers tremble slightly at your sides. You don’t know what to say, don’t even know what you can say.

And suddenly, everything—the teasing, the constant pestering, the way he always had to be around you—it all clicks into place.

Your heart hammers in your chest, and before you can second-guess it, before you can even think, you surge forward and kiss him.

It’s a mess of a kiss—too rushed, too desperate, all clashing teeth and uneven breaths—but Gojo groans softly against your lips, like he’s been waiting for this. His hands are on you immediately, one slipping around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head as he presses you flush against him.

You’re dizzy. Overwhelmed. But it’s good. It’s him, and you don’t want to stop.

When you finally pull away, breathless and unsteady, Gojo is grinning, his lips slightly swollen.

“Worth the wait,” he murmurs, eyes shining.

You avert your gaze, fully blushing now. “But I—” You take a look at him, then hide your face in your hands. “I’m a stalker.”

“Maybe I’m into that.”

“No,” you bemoan. “I’ve stalked you at the gym, and I—” Your voice drops into a shameful whisper. “You were good. Like, stupidly good. Like, making everyone stare at you good.”

His lips twitch. “You were staring too, huh?”

You glare at him, but he just grins, all teeth, clearly eating this up.

“I hated it,” you insist, heat prickling at the back of your neck. “I hated that you’re already smarter than me, that you already have all these advantages, and then—and then you also have that? Like, it’s just unfair. You’re unfair.”

Gojo is silent for a second, and you think you’ve screwed up, but then exhales a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “You are so cute.”

“Stop it!” you whine, but you don’t protest when he pulls you closer and locks your lips with his another time. You clutch the front of his shirt, drag your hands on his chest, his arms, everywhere. Then, you guide his to firmly clutch your ass, to which he freezes.

“We can stop here. We don’t have to do anymore than this, and—”

But you interrupt him, slamming your lips against his once more. Grabbing him by the shoulder you pull him into your room and slam the door behind you, pushing him against the door. “Fuck no.”

He laughs breathlessly, then continues to switch your position, now you against the door. “Thank god. Now, jump.”

You do, and you almost moan at how easily he grabs you in his arms, your legs straddling him. It’s like you weigh nothing to him as he carries you over to your bed and manhandles you into it, following not long after.

When he gets on top of you, he maintains eye contact as he pulls your shirt over your head, trailing kisses down to your neck, the valley of your breasts (but not before giving each of the girls their own tender kiss), and your stomach. With his eyes boring into you, he slowly, teasingly drags the pants you were wearing down your legs until you’re just in your panties.

You let out a noise, and he coos. “I know, I know, baby.” He gives you a gentle kiss on the top of your mound, and you clench, squirming from the contact. “Let me take my time, though.”

He gently, but firmly, lays a hand on your hip as he starts licking the crotch of your panties. It’s truly maddening—the sensation is there, but you oh so wish his skilled tongue was meeting your skin, bare and electric.

He’s taking his time laving, ravishing your taste, but you’ve had enough. “Gojo, please,” you sob, throwing your head back and grinding further into his tongue, which he welcomes. “Stop teasing.”

��Mmmm,” he pretends to think, all while focused and looking only at your crotch, now rubbing your clit in small, miniscule circles. “I can, but,” and now he’s just mocking you, with the way he adopts a babying tone, “I think you’re going to have to beg for it.”

You groan in frustration as a response, but he only clicks his tongue as his fingers reach and finally rid you of your panties. He spreads your folds with two fingers, his face oh so close to your bare pussy. But instead of finally giving you what you want,  he clicks his tongue, pouting as if you’re the one forcing him to be a bastard. “Yea, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to earn it.”

Before you can respond, he holds out his tongue and inches his face even closer to your bare folds until you can feel his warm breath over it. “You just have to say please.” Then, he ahhh-s, as if holding his tongue out to a doctor and says, “Look I’m so close—ahhh.”

You can only plead with him. “Please, Gojo.”

“No, it’s Satoru to you now, baby.”

“Satoru, please eat me out.”

He smiles. “Yeaa, that’s my girl.” And proceeds to eat you out in a way that has your toes curling.

He acts like a man eating his last meal on death row. It’s the masterful combination of laving over your folds, kissing your clit, and groaning and making noises that has you inching closer and closer to your orgasm. When you tell him, you’re close, he does exactly what he’s supposed to do—keep doing what he’s doing, same spot, same tempo, same pressure.

With a cry of his name, you come quickly, and he takes your writhing hips and their motion like a champ, easing you through it. When you feel the all-too-familiar feel of over sensitivity, you grab his hair and pull him towards your face, kissing him tenderly. 

He maneuvers his huge frame to lay down next to you, and you fall easily into a gentle embrace. It’s a comfortable silence, as he burrows his face into your chest and you stroke his hair gently.

Gentler than how you’ve ever treated him.

It’s this thought exactly that you voice to him. “You know,” you muse softly. “I was such a bitch to you.” This gets his attention, because he moves from where he was comfortable (your boobs) to look at you in alarm. “Like, I was always mean, and like acting all high and mighty—”

“Whatever you think you did, it was hot,” he interrupts you, grinning boyishly. “Like damn when you insult me I get all fired up—”

“Satoru!” You laugh, shocked, looking down at him. “You’re crazy.”

“Yea,” he winks. “Crazy for you.”

You smile softly at that, biting your lip. “I mean, I get that.” You feel his curious gaze rove over you and heat creeps up your neck as you confess, “Like I was stalking you at the gym. I saw you one time, and um. You definitely have a sleeper build.”

He hums. “I get that a lot.”

“Yea,” you blurt. “you’re really hot. Like you have really big arms, which I definitely didn’t notice in all those sweaters you wear. You could definitely throw me around.”

Silence.

When you look down at him, he’s looking at you mischievously. He sits up, takes off his shirt, and says, “Want to test that theory?”

The both of you test the theory, indeed—it’s a nice nod to your guys’ academic, theoretical physics roots. But instead of some theory involving dark matter or quantum physics debated while in class, this theory takes all night to prove.

general masterlist

a/n special thank you to @purplegemadventures ily pookie <3 we were discussing how a lot of fics so far have made seem nerd gojo really cute and shy but we tried to envision a shit eating sassy diva just like hidden inventory arc <3 like what that one anon said i need my gojo to be a little annoying cocky (but cute) bastard (or, i quote, "your gojo makes me want to oil his scalp and give him an aggressive head massage and mess his hair up"). ANYWAYS props to that one anon that dropped the "nerd gojo with sleeper build" and my beloved @tiramisuandlove i love you forever

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots!

[casuallyanidiot]

More Yandere Nerd thoughts...

Dead Dove Do Not Eat! MDNI ! NSFW !

Tw. Dubcon/ Noncon, stalking, yandere, mansplainer supreme, voyeurism, dumbification

Yandere Nerd who stares at you every single day in class. He thinks you're so pretty and cute, and he fucks his fist to the thought of you multiple times a day. He thinks you're far too dumb to truly be on par with him, but he likes that you're just smart enough to understand the same things he does.

Yandere Nerd who loves the confused little face you make when he goes off about some niche, hard to comprehend topic that he spends far too much time researching outside of class. You're not a ditz, but he likes being the one to put you in the same place as all the other brainless, pretty faced sluts he sees prance around on campus. No, no see you've got substance, don't you? That's probably the only thing more alluring that that adorable little hole he knows you have hidden so unfairly underneath all of your clothes.

Yandere Nerd who seethes with jealousy every time you get a shred of attention from anyone else. He hopes you're not fucking someone else behind his back. If you are, he loses his mind. How could you go for someone so lackluster in comparison to him? He'd lavish you with gifts, praise and attention if you would just look his way. In fact, he'd give you a lot more than that. He'd pound into you until you were babbling, speechless, and all you had to worry about was how stuffed full of cum you were going to be by the time he was done with you.

Yandere Nerd who is so damn insufferable when he gets his hands on you. He loves the fact that he has a little cutie like you in his life, and sometimes online he'll post photos of your gaping, stretched out entrance onto some obscure forum just so he can brag about how his little fucktoy is the best one there is.

Yandere Nerd who wants to see you wearing shit from his favorite hentai. Microkinis with stockings, cat ears, bunny outfits, maid costumes, virgin killer sweaters: you name it, and he's slapping his card on the table just so he can pound you silly in it. He loves taking photos of you from lewd angles. He makes you sit down and compare the ones he takes of you now that you're "dating" versus the more rushed, unflattering ones he got while sneaking cameras into your old room. He also makes you masturbate to your own pictures. His little darling has got to practice self love, you know?

Yandere nerd who tries to get you into every fandom and interest he has. He'll strap you down and keep you tied to a fucking machine for hours if you get the lore wrong for his favorite video game or book series, so you better pay attention if you don't want to get any dumber.

Yandere Nerd who makes you come up with new ways to reward him every time he accomplishes something academically.

"If I get a 98 or above on this exam, you have to cock warm me with your mouth for at least three hours while you sit on a dildo as a treat. You will do it, right? For me? Don't I deserve a treat for once?"

He doesn't even have to try all that hard to score that high, he just likes seeing you hope that he fails even though you know it's no use. Yandere Nerd is an asshole, and he totally deserved to be rejected by you before you got kidnapped, but how're you going to tell him that when you're stuck sucking on his balls?

[nerdlvr]

✩ 69

(MDNI)

smutty smut , nerd jisung x hot girl experienced reader , ji's first time giving head , 69 sex position (first time writing this ahh) , pussy eating , dick sucking , sorta face riding , she's on top , big dick ji (canon) , lots of body fluids , jisungs a pussy hungry dork , kinda pt. 2 to library head , lmk if i missed anything!

jisung would probably die of embarrassment if you could see his face. he was practically foaming at the mouth, cheeks burning red as you wiggled your ass in his face, your soft giggles only made him impossibly harder as he imagined how you'd mock him for looking this desperate.

"come of ji, just give it a taste."

he watched as your juices glistened against your folds, hips still wiggling in a taunting motion.

"i- i don't know if i can do- oh my-"

his hands came up to grip your thighs, the soft kitten lick you landed on his tip making his head spin.

"we can stop if you want ji-"

your small fingers wrapped around his length, gently gripping his base as you leaned down again to give his leaking head a kiss.

"fuck- don't do that- i'm gonna-"

you giggled again, moving your hand away his length and placing it on his thigh, slightly turning your body to get a look at him,

"baby look-"

you reached in between your legs, reaching into your core to collect your juices before extending your fingers out in front of his mouth.

"taste."

he stuck his tongue out, eyes meeting yours as you placed your wet fingers on his tongue. a grin spread on your lips as you watched him moan against your fingers, eyes rolling back into his head.

"good?"

he nodded quickly, mouth chasing your fingers as you pulled them away from his lips.

"now here-" you pointed to your core.

his tongue poked out to wet his lips, a small gulp running along his throat, "tell me if it's too much okay?"

you wanted to laugh at his question but your voice got caught in your throat, body going limp against his lap as he dove straight in.

"ji- jisung wait-" you gripped his thighs, moans leaving your lips as he lapped at your dripping core, tongue stiff against your clit. his hands were harsh against your hips, pulling your ass closer to his face, glasses pressing painfully against your supple skin.

you gripped his length, trying your best to also bring him some pleasure, but your forehead pressed against his pubic bone, eyes squeezed shut as he completely devoured you.

"jisung please- slow down- i- fuck."

he let go of your clit with a loud pop, fingers coming up to rub against your heat as he angled his head to look at you, "am i doing good? am i?"

you turned to face him. his glasses were foggy, pushed close against his face, swollen lips parted slightly awaiting your response.

"doing so good ji, just go a little-" he didn't get to hear the end of your response, ears zoning out as he got back to slurping at your juices.

jisung had never been a fan of sweets, but tasting you was almost addicting. everything else was a blur (partially due to his foggy glasses) the taste of you against his tongue turning his brain into mush.

he could cum like this alone, your hips moving gently against his tongue, your soft sounds filling his ears, but you were not a quitter. your hands wrapped tightly around his base as you forced yourself to remain steady, lips wrapping his aching length.

a smile spread on your lips as you felt him moan against your core, hips jutting up slightly against your mouth. you were quick to move against him, spit starting to collect in your mouth as you bobbed your head along his length.

he detached from your core, whiny moans leaving his lips as you picked up speed, sloppy noises of spit coming from below him,

"fuck- fuck- fuck- you're so good at that- fuck."

he pulled your hips down towards his face again, tongue flat against your heat. his grip tightened as he rocked your hips against his face, his groans vibrating against you as he pressed himself deeper into your cunt.

you moved your mouth away from him, spit helping your hands glide against his length as you jerked him off,

"ji- ji baby- yes- just like that-"

your body was now upright as pressed yourself onto jisung's face, his grip on your hips guiding you against his tongue. you rubbed yourself on him like your life depended on it, stomach tightening at the feeling of his stiff tongue grazing your swollen bud,

"so good baby- so good."

only deep groans could be heard from him as you continued to rock against him, using him to reach your high.

his glasses clattered against the bed as they fell off his face, giving jisung a new sense of freedom as he began to shake his head against your core, new vibrations radiating against you.

"keep- keep going ji- i'm gonna-"

he winced slightly as your grip on his length tightened almost painfully, your orgasm making your whole body tense above him. you fell against his lap again, loud moans leaving your lips as he eased you through your orgasm, soft hands massaging your ass as his tongue slowed against you.

if jisung thought you tasted good before, now he thought you tasted amazing. his tongue prodded at your pulsing hole, new juices flowing out of you. he sucked desperately, this new taste better than the last.

but his trance was short lived as he felt you pinch his thigh, your pained moans bringing him back to earth.

"jisung! jisung! too much, hurts, please."

he let out a nervous chuckle, hand coming up to scratch his head,

"s-sorry, you taste really good-"

your giggling made him flush, his sheepish personality coming back once again.

"that- that's a compliment! good taste of body fluids usually means good diet and hygiene! in my biology clas- oh!"

he threw his head back against your sheets as you lips wrapped around his tip, tongue swirling against the flushed skin.

"i don't give a fuck about your biology class jisung."

rude. but not like he cared, the rest of his biology class probably wasn't getting insane head.

[sunrizef1]

The Truth in Pretending

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader

Warnings: umeployed!logan, Williams racing

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: Logan is on the brink of losing his seat. Maybe a relationship with a famous singer would help him keep it.

ynln

📍New York City, New York

liked by oliviarodrigo sabrinacarpenter and 6,088,987 others

ynln life lately 💕

load comments…

user1 my baby

user2 diva core

user3 I am feral for this woman

user4 new music when??????

user5 real 😭

oliviarodrigo beautiful girl 😘

liked by ynln

ynln no, you 🫶

user6 I love her

user7 MY BAEEEEE

user8 I need new music

user9 how can I relate this post to rep tv

user10 that cat is so real cuz I would act the same way if I met y/n

sabrinacarpenter 💕

ynln 💕

user11 looked in the mirror and sighed

user12 need her

user13 Taylor liked

user14 god PLEASE

——

TWITTER

——

MESSAGES

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INSTAGRAM

ynln added to their story

sabrinacarpenter

u could say that again 😮‍💨

never taking another tequila shot again 🤮

ynln

It wasn’t *that* bad

I’ve only thrown up twice this morning 🤷‍♀️

sabrinacarpenter

well, don’t look at me for blame

we needed to celebrate your last day of independence

ynln

That’s not what that was

I’m sure he’s wonderful

sabrinacarpenter

hmm

he’ll have to win me over

I’m not convinced

Especially since it’s his team making you do this

ynln

I could’ve said no

sabrinacarpenter

but u didn’t

Cuz u were pressured into it

it’s not hard to tell

I litteraly have a whole song about not being a mind-reader and even I could tell

ynln

wtvr

it’s fine, really

sabrinacarpenter

have u even met him

ynln

We meet today

sabrinacarpenter

Good luck, soldier 🫡

you’ll need it 💋

ynln liked a message ♥️

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ynln added to their story

sabrinacarpenter liked your story ♥️

taylorswift liked your story ♥️

oliviarodrigo liked your story ♥️

logansargeant liked your story ♥️

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ynln added to their story

logansargeant

who took this?

ynln

lily!

she was walking with Alex behind us on the way out

logansargeant

oh, I didn’t know they were there

it’s a cute picture

ynln

you rly think so?

logansargeant

I like it, at least

ynln

don’t worry

I do too

logansargeant

thanks for coming btw

you didn’t have to

ynln

I mean, technically I was contractually obligated to

but I had fun

I’m glad I came

logansargeant

but I finished p20

sorry I couldn’t make your first race more exciting

I fear it will be a lot of p20 this season

ynln

Logan, it’s fine

I know nothing about f1

I was just having fun watching you race

logansargeant

so I take it you liked your first race?

ynln

I did!

lily might just be my new favorite person

Don’t tell Sabrina I said that

logansargeant

I don’t have any way to do that so I think you’re safe

I’m getting nervous you might like lily more than you like me

I mean, ur not contractually obligated to hang out with her

ynln

lol

we might be a contract but I do like you lo

dw

logansargeant

good to know

ynln liked a message ♥️

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sabrinacarpenter

ew, nerds

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logansargeant added to their story

ynln

hi :)

logansargeant liked a message ♥️

logansargeant

do u maybe have extra shampoo in your hotel room…?

I don’t have any

ynln

oh my sweet angel logan

I don’t use hotel shampoo

You can have all of mine

logansargeant

oh yay

can u bring it over

ynln

yeah I got you

what room are you

logansargeant

4567

ynln

Oh you’re just down the hall

I’ll be over in a min

logansargeant

thank you :)

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sabrinacarpenter

oh my poor baby

stuck in England for American independence day

ynln

I think I’ll survive 🤷‍♀️

sabrinacarpenter

oh?

ynln

yeah

I mean I have this lovely little puppy for company

sabrinacarpenter

who’s dog is that?

ynln

Logan’s

sabrinacarpenter

ugh

not him

ynln

He’s wonderful

sabrinacarpenter

hmmmm

I’m not convinced

ynln

well I am

sabrinacarpenter

oh!

you’re not into him, r u?

ynln

Nope

he’s just rly nice sab

sabrinacarpenter

mmmm

ynln

well I have a 4th of July party to get ready for

bye sab

sabrinacarpenter

don’t think I didn’t notice that ur having a party with Logan when there’s not even anyone around to see it and help your pr

ynln

ur getting blocked

——

logansargeant

where’d u goooo ☹️

ynln

lol I’m in the backyard

u good?

logansargeant

yeah, I’m just feeling too patriotic

need to talk to another American

ynln

you’ve been talking to me all day?

logansargeant

well yeah but I can’t go too long without an American or I start to turn British

ynln

lol, come outside

logansargeant

already omw ☺️

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ynln added to their story

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logansargeant

❤️❤️❤️❤️

ynln

❤️❤️❤️❤️

logansargeant

I’m so glad u came :)

ynln

I am too

I meant it when I said I was proud of you

logansargeant

thanks y/n :)

for once, I am too

ynln liked a message ♥️

——

ynln

liked by taylorswift logansargeant and 12,998,907 others

ynln happy summer ☀️

packing it up out now 🎧

load comments…

user15 AHHHHH

user16 y/n l/n returns to Instagram posts

user17 WAIT THIS SONG IS SO CUTE

user18 I spot Logan!

user19 “I came so close to packing it up but then you happened” 😭

user20 waitttt this is lovely

user21 this is her so high school

taylorswift so good!!! 🙌

liked by ynln ♥️

user22 Logan sargeant you have rocked my world

lilymhe I would like photo creds

ynln so sorry guys, lily took the middle photo!!!!

user23 wait the Williams boys vacationed together? 🥺

user24 this is so

logansargeant ☀️

liked by ynln ♥️

user25 BOAF OF EM

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ynln added to their story

logansargeant

idk can you make the plane move faster or something

ynln

Ur so impatient

logansargeant

sry I wanna see my gf who I love or wtvr

ynln

oh?

There’s a couple big steps in that statement

logansargeant

Delete delete delete

how do u delete messages on Instagram

I didn’t say a word

ynln

oh no, dw, I enjoyed it

logansargeant

r u sure?

cus I just figured out how to delete messages

thanks google

ynln

nope

don’t delete it

as ur gf, I think I should get used to that

(+ I love u 2, so the feelings mutual)

logansargeant

oh thank god

I was worried I’d have to disappear off the face of the planet

ynln

oh don’t do that

I haven’t even seen you as your official gf yet

logansargeant

giggling and kicking my feet

ynln

lmfao, shut up 😭

logansargeant liked a message ♥️ ——

ynln

📍London, England

liked by logansargeant sabrinacarpenter and 21,676,088 others

ynln back where he belongs

tagged: logansargeant

load comments…

user26 I am deeply in love with them

user27 as a Logan fan, I am thankful for this sign of life

user28 love that, instead of using a candid, she used a pic of him at Williams just to put an x over the logo lmfao

user29 she’s so diva, I love it

user30 MY SHAYLAAAA

sabrinacarpenter ig he’s alright

liked by ynln ♥️

logansargeant I’m honored

sabrinacarpenter don’t get too cocky, ur still unemployed 🚩

user31 They’re MY Taylor and Travis

user32 I WAS SO CLOSE TO PACKING IT UPPP BUT THATS RIGHT WHEN YOU HAPPENEDDDDDD

taylorswift happy for you!

ynln thanks tay!

user33 HES FREE! WORST EXPERIENCE OF HIS LIFE!

user34 why does my goat look so happy to be fired

user35 if I got to get out of that hellhole and go home to my beautiful girlfriend who writes sweet songs about me, I would also be very happy

logansargeant I love you 😍

ynln lol, I love you too nerd

user36 oh my god they’re so perfect I love them so much

user37 actually let’s talk more about the x over the Williams logo

user38 killatrav liked

user39 ofc he did, this is tayvis 2.0

user40 tayvis this, tayvis that. No, this is my Louis and Olivia.

user41 new albums gonna bang

——

tag list: @evie-119 @casperlikej

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Ghosted

Male Jock Yandere Ghost x Gender Neutral Nerd Ghost Reader

CW: Reader death, ghosts, spirit world, manipulative yandere, stalking, general yandere behavior, consensual sex

Word Count: 801

(Trying to get back into the habit of writing, this is the result, hope you like it! I consider a demented ghost as still being a monster and therefore still teratophilia.)

You had died in college. One moment, you were being your nerdy self, rummaging through your binder, and the next, you were on the ground. You didn't really remember much, all very fuzzy. Was it a stroke? A brain aneurysm? You had no idea.

Once you were brain dead, though, you stepped from your body and appeared on the ghostly plane. A fog filled realm that somewhat mirrored the world of the living. Though spirits could make alterations, there were spaces untouched by the activities of the still living. 

There were a lot of ghosts. Many of them wandered aimlessly or were stuck in a loop of denial, acting out behaviors as if they were still alive. Others lashed aggressively, unable to regain their grip on their sanity. 

You mostly kept to yourself. Like Jonesy taught you. He was a former jock about your age when he died in the late 80s. He still wore his letterman jacket. You weren't limited to the clothes you died in, but you figured it was a symbol of how he was still attached to his old life.

Jonesy had taught you a lot of things. He had pretty much been your mentor since you had died. He was there waiting when you passed. He said he had sensed someone might die as he was wandering the halls of the college, where he had also died years ago. 

Jonesy said he was stuck in a loop. Being alone had made him lose his mental stability. But when he sensed you were about to die, it snapped him out of it. He said you saved him, so he wanted to get to know you and help you navigate the land of the dead. 

Plus, being together would help prevent the two of you from getting mentally frail. 

It was a bit of a paradox. Jonesy taught you to avoid most spirits, but communication and relationships were essential to staying sane. 

"You just have to know the right types to befriend. Many of the people here have a darkness in them and can drag you down if you're not careful."

He also told you the other secret to remaining stable. 

"You have to keep busy, do stuff. Don't get too bored."

There was a surprising amount you could do as a ghost. You could go to stores and yoink whatever you wanted, eat whatever you wanted, play video games, there was even a ghost version of the internet! 

Getting infinite free popcorn at the movies was your favorite thing. Jonesy always did that lame pretend yawn thing that ended with his arm wrapped around you. It was nice, though. Made you feel safe. You had been touch starved in life.

The transition to him being your boyfriend was so seemless and natural that you barely noticed that it had happened. You had never stopped any of his advances. Cuddling you, holding you, and smooching your cheek.

You didn't even question it when chaste kisses led to him kissing you hungrily before carefully taking off your clothing, like he was removing the wrapping from something delicate. 

Soon you found yourself laying ass up on his bed with him pounding into you, drinking in all your lusty moans and unabashed calling of his name.

He gripped your hips firmly as he came deeply into you; the pleasure made you see stars. His girthy cock stretched you wonderfully. You felt so lucky and special that this jock spirit had taken an interest in you, a lowly nerd.

Jonesy felt lucky too. He hadn't been in a loop. For a year before your death, he had been haunting you, It was difficult to peek into the living world, but once he found you, he was addicted. 

He loved watching you read books, study, and watch anime. He especially loved watching you shower, fervently jerking hinself off as he did so. 

It wasn't enough though. He needed to have you with him! You had been so perfect for him. You were kindred souls in a way. You were always alone and starved for attention. You'd fall for his affections easily, and you wouldn't just crossover beyond the purgatory the two of you were now in, you were too depressed for that.

Influencing people who were still alive was nearly impossible, but decades of being alone had made Jonesy angry and bitter. He used those emotions as fuel and tried many times to trip you down the stairs or get you to stroll into traffic absentmindedly. Finally, the jock was successful in busting something in your head.

At long last, you were with him. As he held you tightly, after making love several more times, he knew he'd be able to keep you there forever and he'd never have to be alone again. 

[sunnypopoki]

— 𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄 ; P.3

(𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: 𝘒𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘮𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵.

ᴛᴡ: ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴏᴜʟ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ, ᴏᴠᴇʀᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀꜰᴀʙ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴇᴛᴄ.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄɪᴢᴇ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇꜱ, ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴘᴏᴋɪ ᴏɴ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, Qᴜᴏᴛᴇᴠ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ.

Р.2 / Р.4

Kieran stared at the classroom filled with other fifteen-year-olds. Already, they seemed to fit the stereotypes he always saw on tv back in Russia; jocks, cheerleaders, nerds, and more. It was true that none of them had uniforms. At least that was one good thing, he wouldn't feel stuffy in some uniform.

Scanning the classroom, he paused when he noticed a girl in the back of the class. Her head was crammed into a notebook, cheek against the paper, as she wrote something down. Wasn't that pose hurting her neck? Why was she so close to the paper? She wasn't taking in the teacher's information while Kieran was waiting to be introduced. The class was chaos in a nutshell and all the students were chattering so loud that his ears were going to fall off.

"Now class, all of you need to pay attention to this!" the teacher huffed, clapping her hands, "come on! pay attention. Unless you all want some homework over the weekend!"

It was like magic. At the mere mention of homework, the entire class stopped talking. He bit the inside of his cheek when all the eyes in the room were suddenly on him. A few girls giggled, some boys leaned forward in their seats, and some gave him sweet smiles. He already hated all of them. Why did they stare at him like he was a new exhibit in a zoo?

The girl in the back of the class raised her head, wincing and rubbing the back of her neck. There was a sparkle in her eye and Kieran pursed his lips. She seemed to be one of the annoying chatter-box girls with that happy look.

"Today we are introducing a new student to our class, Kieran. Be nice, he just transferred here from London, so he might have to get used to how this school works for a bit," the teacher beamed at him, "why don't you go sit beside (Y/N)? She's a good student, she will help you with anything you need."

The class burst into welcomes, giddy excitement, and questions. Kieran had a gut feeling that they were only acting this way because he was a foreigner. He was aware that if they knew he was Russia, they would either be interested in his culture or racist about it. His father warned him that a lot of people were mean to Russians at times just because of Putin. Sure, not all of them, but he really didn't want to be called a terrorist just because of his ethnicity.

(Y/N), who he realized was the girl in the back, slowly raised her hand. That sparkle in her eye was something much more nervous now. People nudged and whispered at her, glancing at him with giddy eyes. Great. He was going to be stuck to the weird girl who writes like she has a broken neck. He ignored the pestering stares and whispers around the room as he walked to the back of the class and sat next to her. At least her name wasn't obnoxious.

While he desperately ignored her, he noticed the girl glancing at him from the corner of his eye. She gnawed on her bottom lip and her leg bounced up and down, followed by her opening her mouth to say something but then quickly shutting it.

Kieran's father taught him a lot of lessons growing up and one of those lessons was about cowards. The Morozov family wasn't fond of people who couldn't speak their minds, at least that was what his father told him, because cowards often ruined business. Of course, Kieran wasn't allowed to know a lot about his father's job, but he went ahead and applied that advice to this situation. He didn't understand why she was stammering so much and why her eyes bored holes into the side of his head. Was she just dumb? Maybe a dumb coward? His eye twitched and he leaned against his palm.

Finally, she managed to speak up.

"Uhm—do you... do you want to share my textbook for this class? I see you don't have yours yet. We are learning exponential equations," she proposed, "I'm not the best at them yet, but I can teach you what I know so you can get caught up with the class."

"Sure."

(Y/N) was taken aback by his harsh accent. He knew that it was thick. When he lived in London for two years, the private school he was at always had issues understanding what he was saying. This caused a lot of bullying, especially by the posh brats who didn't have anything better to do than flaunt their wealth and complain about how their parents didn't buy them a specific set of shoes for their birthday.

Her eyes lit when she realized he agreed and she quickly fumbled to put her desk next to his, opening her textbook so the two of them could see it. Kieran was glad he was forced to learn English at a young age because who knew he'd be in a situation like this once he got older? He still struggled with English now and again, certain words and sentence structure confused him, but he knew how to read the majority.

Kieran's eyes flickered to the side. (Y/N) was nervously rambling about something, pointing and poking at the page.

In truth, he was surprised she talked to him. His first impression of her was some weird, shy girl who didn't have a social life (even if that was extremely judgmental, he didn't care). The way she wrote in her notebook like some gremlin in the back of the class was enough to give him that impression. However, she seemed kind so far, even if she was jittery and nervous around him. He knew that even if she was some yellow-bellied coward, he'd rather talk to a coward instead of a bitch.

Back when he was a transfer student in London, people who tried to talk to him immediately retreated when they realized they would have a hard time understanding him if they continued the conversation. They had so much fear of putting themselves in an awkward situation that they didn't want to talk to the boy with a thick accent. Not that he cared, most of the time he just wanted to be left alone.

So it was shocking, to say the least, when (Y/N) started asking him questions.

"So, how do you like our school so far?" she beamed, nervously picking at her sleeve, "I hope you haven't met Jenson yet. He's rude to everyone, but I have a feeling he won't be nice to you."

Kieran pursed his lips, muttering, "...ah, well, everyone likes to stare here."

(Y/N) tensed and tilted her head. Ah... he knew that reaction. Did she not understand him? Annoyance bubbled in his chest and he gnawed on his bottom lip, tapping his fingers aggressively against the table. He opened his mouth to repeat himself and—

"Oh, yeah! People stare a lot here, but if you stare back at them, they will look away. I do that sometimes when some of the girls from art class stare at me," she interrupted, "sorry. Your accent is very thick—I mean, I don't mean that in a bad way! Uhm, it just took me a second. It's very pretty!"

Kieran blinked. His mouth clamped back shut and he awkwardly shifted in his seat, glancing away from her. "It's fine."

His hands stopped tapping at the table and he politely placed them in his lap. His ears felt hot and he rolled his shoulders back, doing his best to shake off the sudden awkward itch on the back of his neck. His accent was pretty? Was she just saying that to be nice? His teeth nibbled on his bottom lip.

(Y/N) brought out her notebook and started to doodle on one of the pages. He glanced over and saw that she was drawing a lot of animals on one page. A dog, a cat, an otter, there was a whole plethora of small critters on her page. She started to draw a black cat, absentmindedly containing the conversation, "Was your school in London cool?"

Why is she suddenly drawing a black cat?

He shrugged, "...not really. Posh brats everywhere."

Her eyes lit up. Whatever she was thinking, he didn't have to place it together quickly to understand what she was going to ask him next. "A lot of people in school romanticize British people. It's probably not the nicest thing to do, but I know a lot of girls from the grade above have been talking about visiting London one day. Did you go to a fancy school in London?"

He nodded. "A private school, but I was homeschooled in Russia."

God, he was delighted to be out of that place. Not everyone was rich and snobby in that place, and he knew it was because of their wealth and not where they came from, but he liked to blame it on the fact they were British. Just like he always liked to blame a lot of things Americans did just because of the fact they were American. All of them had shitty food compared to the delights in Russia, at least in his opinion.

"Woah! That's so cool," she looked up at him with a large smile, "where did you live in Russia? "

"Yakutsk," he deadpanned, "a port city on the Lena River."

(Y/N) blinked. She scribbled in the corner of her notebook and made a dark spiraling circle, her lips pulling into a much more awkward grin. "Uhm, did you say Yaktooz? I'm afraid I don't know where that is. If I am honest, I only know of Moscow, and I don't even know where that is."

Kieran's smiled a little bit more. It has been a while since he talked of his home, even if it wasn't the best place to live. He missed the food and the people, but there was a lot he didn't miss either. He shook his head and pulled out a piece of paper from his notebook, writing down the name of his town and then trying to write it down in English. He grumbled and erased it.

"No, it is pronounced Yakutsk," he paused and muttered to himself, "how would an American say it... shit, I don't know how to pronounce it in a way you'd understand."

(Y/N) tilted her head and looked at the page, "can you say it again?"

"Yakutsk."

When written down in Russian, the word looked completely different, something she wouldn't be able to understand at all. The word 'Якутск' stared back at her heavy yet fluid handwriting. She took her pen and tried to copy the Russian letters right under it. It was messy, not fluid, and hesitant handwriting.

"I--I don't think I will be able to say it as cool as you say it. Is it cold where your home is?"

Kieran didn't blame her for not repeating it. She did butcher the pronunciation when she tried the first time, whatever the hell she was trying to say.

"Summers were short and our winters are very cold. Russia is big, so not every place is cold, but Yakutsk is in Siberia. People have named it the coldest city in the world."

The only reason his family lived in that part of Russia was because it was because of the low crime rate and the fact it was easy for people to go missing there. The Lena River was one of the longest rivers in the world, and Kieran knew that his father sometimes took out people who wanted to cause them harm and threw them there. Why did they want to cause his family harm? he didn't know, his father never shared, but only said "You'll understand when you get older."

However, he wasn't naive. He knew that his father did something illegal. It wasn't just his father, but his entire family. They always kept strong peaceful ties with the authority in Russia and his father always managed to have the highest ranking of power to anyone they met. His father was a kind person, he smiled at everyone, and was so polite that it made him sick--but he also knew that scary look he had behind closed doors when he was talking with some of his men.

One day, he would get all the answers. He was still impatient about it though.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. She went back to doodling her cat, humming, "Oh, that's so cool! Do you still have some relatives in Ru—"

"(Y/N), please stop bothering the new student," the teacher snapped and pointed her pen at her, "Kieran is here to learn, not listen to you ramble."

She sank back into her seat and her lips pursed shut. She didn't blush, but by the way her eyes lowered to the floor and her body folded in on itself, she was embarrassed. He stared at her from the corner of his eye while the class burst into giggles and chatter. Some of the other students tried to ask him questions but he ignored them. Instead, he finished the black cat doodle in her notebook, adding a small 'meow' in Russian right next to it.

"Now, everyone pay attention! can someone come up to the board and answer this question?"

Whatever the teacher was saying, he blocked it out. The class went back to doing whatever they were doing, (Y/N) raised her head and doodled a second black cat to go with the first one, and then he added a third. Her doodles were better. When she doodled a pigeon, he was quick to doodle an owl. The rest of the class was spent wasting their time and not paying attention to the board.

Kieran bit his lip to keep his lips from twitching upward. He still would have preferred to be alone, but she wasn't that bad or annoying, and she was so far keeping him from being bored... He supposed he could talk to her a little bit more.

━━━━━━━ ╳ ╳ ╳

Kieran sighed and stopped scribbling on the blank paper on his desk. There were many times when he reminisced, remembering the time he first met (Y/N). It was hard to believe that he didn't like her at first. He didn't understand his past self, how he could have found her bright smile annoying. Now it gave him butterflies each time he thought about it.

Their time spent in school was wild, to say the least. Kieran wasn't the ideal student but he managed to get good grades throughout, good enough that his mother and father didn't scold him when he got home. How ironic that (Y/N) always got the best grades yet somehow her parents never thought it was enough. He licked his teeth at the thought, cursing them under his breath.

He never liked them. He was glad they were out of her life.

They got married six months ago and a couple of her family members were there, but their presence brought down the entire wedding. His family on the other hand were a little bit too loud.

His mother kept cooing and complimenting (Y/N) in Russian each time she had the chance and his father kept telling her baby stories about him. It was embarrassing. His parents adored her, which was good, but they were too adoring at times.

He glanced over at the watch on his desk. It was a gift she gave to him whenever they were in high school. It didn't fit him anymore but he still kept it close, reminding him to be careful and not get shot, because she was waiting at home for him.

Though... something had been off about her.

He knew that she was upset because of him. Kieran was busier than normal, he'd been out of the house more, and he'd been craving her touch. The nights she wasn't with him are the nights he couldn't sleep at all. Did she feel the same way? Was she lonely? God, he felt lonely, and he was the one going out and working all the time.

Not that he could stop. While he was the boss, just throwing away the mafia would get him killed. He had to make sure she was safe and throwing away his job just to be close to her would get her and him killed together. It wasn't like his father was in the States to help protect her either.

His mind flashed back to what happened last night. His expression soured, thinking of the two gang members he found talking to her, and her salty tear-stained cheeks. She was angry at him but didn't want to tell him. She wasn't a good liar, especially when she had an expression of gut-wrenching guilt. Why was she guilty? Did he make her guilty? Fuck, he never wanted to hurt her. He'd rather gut out his intestines and string them up for the crows instead of hurting her.

Kieran tried talking to her about it when they got home, but the conversation didn't go anywhere. He didn't know what to say to make her feel better, telling her the truth was more dangerous than lying, but he knew either option was hurting her. He knew she was lying about so many things. She was an open book. There were many times she pretended to be asleep just to avoid him. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He needed to find those thugs that talked to her. His ties with the police were beneficial for to the mafia, it kept them off his hide, but maybe they'd know their address when he didn't. He didn't want to go around asking his extra personal contacts for something small like thugs in minor gangs.

He groaned and his head fell into his hands.

God, he missed her.

He missed her scent, her laugh, the way she bites her bottom lip when she's embarrassed, her touch, her panting breaths when he kisses her—Kieran cleared his throat. Thinking about such things at work would leave him with a problem and he didn't want to explain to Sam why he wouldn't leave his office for an hour or two. Yet he couldn't deny that he craved just the brush of her fingers against his arms, his neck, his cheek.

He craved for her body pressed against his. He could imagine it already; (Y/N) cuddled next to him on the couch, watching a horror movie, her hands grabbing whatever they could get ahold of each time she was scared. The feeling of his clothes shifting, the way her body would move, her innocent eyes glancing at him to see his reaction to the movie.

Would she get all embarrassed if he leaned in closer? What sighs would leave her lips if he kissed her neck, caressing her like the goddess she was? God, he'd worship her like a temple, her breath enough to topple him to his knees.

He hissed. His pants suddenly felt tight, unbearably so, and he rubbed at his face. Work was leaving him pent up.

Kieran would be truthful and admit that there were times when it was hard for him to not touch her. All he wanted to do was to cradle her, to make her bend to his touch, to see how pretty she was on top of him... but being a killer didn't mean he was monstrous enough to force her to do something with him. She had to be safe with him, to trust him, so giving in to every horny thought about her wasn't the way to keep her happy, especially since she wasn't ready. He didn't care if she was never ready--she would stay with him forever, even if they weren't intimate.

However, there were times like this. Where the mere thought of her would rile him up, leave him breathless in his office, with no way of having privacy for longer than thirty minutes.

Kieran gritted his teeth as he shuffled in his chair, forcing his mind somewhere else. Somewhere boring. Walking out of his office pent-up was something he didn't want his men to see.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Thank god, a distraction!

Kieran glanced up, sighing whenever he noticed a familiar face peering through the cracked door to his office. Of course, Sam would bother him at a time like this.

"Why didn't you respond to my message?" he snapped, his voice thick with a Italian accent. "You left me on read and everything. I know you are cold, but I didn't expect you to be that cold. We are the only two higher-up immigrants here! We gotta be nice to one another!"

Kieran pinched the bridge of his nose. He was spouting nonsense again without any context. He should have expected this right when he saw him, he was always doing shit like this. "Come inside and stop talking through the crack of my door. What the hell are you even talking about?”

Sam huffed before barging into the room and shutting the door behind him. He was a short man, about 5'7, but the mass of his muscles compensated for it. He was about ten years older than Kieran but still appeared somewhat youthful. His dreadlocks were pulled into a bun and his colorful clothes only added to his unique and distinctive personality. He flipped the orange sunglasses off his nose and slapped them down on the desk.

"You know what you did, Kieran—

"Boss."

"—Boss!"

Kieran was usually confused each time he talked to Sam. Sam, short for Samuel, was a friend of his father's and someone who was meant to help him with the men underneath him. The Morozov Mafia was a dangerous place to work, especially since it was moved from Russia to the States. His father dragged all his people whenever they moved to both London for two years, and then to the United States. Sam was there throughout it all.

Were they close? Well, they were as close as mafia business partners could get. They recognized the respect between the two, they knew each other from growing up. Hell, Kieran could remember the day Sam turned 22. It was hard to believe that was 8 years ago.

"I don't know what I did," he confessed, "so what are you complaining about now?"

Sam frowned. "I messaged you at around ten yesterday morning and you left me on read. I told you to respond and everything because you didn't tell me where the hell you were after you said you'd meet with me. That's so cold of you, I thought we were like brothers."

"...I wasn't home at ten this morning. I already told you that I got caught up in some shipment yard where Kozlov fucked up and got some petty gang members into our territory."

It was messy work. The shipment yard was moving a box of slaves; people who were in debt with the mafia due to past agreements and refused to pay up. Their fault, they were the ones who decided it was a good idea to make contracts with the mafia when they didn't have the money to pay it all back. So hopefully they'd find some use elsewhere, likely back home in Yakutsk with his father and mother.

Even so, he wasted bullets on gang members. He viewed them as kids, infants with baseball bats and an occasional Glock G19, a common gun that anyone could get in the States if they tried even a little bit. Of course, such guns were sloppy, but that didn't stop one of his men from being shot in the leg. To put it simply, it was humiliating.

"Isn't the app on your phone? Are you sure you didn't glance at it and forgot then?" Sam asked, suddenly piqued in curiosity.

"I didn't."

"...I mean, maybe your wife read—"

"Sam," Kieran warned.

Sam leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. He sighed and his leg bounced up and down, staring at Kieran with a knowing look. "Then who else would have read the message? You only have that app on your laptop and your phone, which I doubt anyone would go through unless the woman who has access to it, did it. If the systems were hacked, which we'd already know by now if they were, then that'd be an issue. But they aren't."

Kieran glared. Quickly, the issue of being pent up went out the window, doubts starting to cloud his mind. Anxiety filled up his bloodstream like poison.

What would he do if she knew?

How could he keep her safe?

Who would hurt her?

How would he keep her with him?

"I know what you're thinking, but you already know the answer to that," Sam picked up a small candy from the tray, unraveled it, and plopped it into his mouth, "You either drag her in or you throw her out, kid, that's how this business works. Hell, you're lucky the Big Boss loves her so much that he allowed you to marry her."

"Sam," Kieran warned again, his voice tighter, face falling to hide behind his hands as a headache grew.

"I'm just saying! She's probably curious about where you are leaving all the time. You're editor, so of course you meet up with your clients sometimes, but not every goddamn night."

"Poor woman doesn't even have her man there to sleep with her. Who knows, maybe she'll go out and find some other guy—"

Sam stilled whenever he saw the two green eyes peeking out behind Kieran's hands, staring at him with enough intensity to knock the air out of his lungs. Thousands of spiders crawled up his spine and sweat built on his brow. He opened his mouth to fix his mistake, to undo what just slipped out of his mouth, but he couldn't speak. Not whenever the cold eyes of the devil were threatening to swallow him whole.

Kieran was glaring with icy anger. No, it wasn't quite anger. It was hard to explain, whatever look was in his eyes, but Sam had a gut feeling that he wouldn't have any issue placing a bullet in his head if he continued to talk about his wife. The sparkle in his emerald eyes was gone. It was dead, daring, threatening.

The two went way back—but he knew very well that Kieran loved and adored his spouse more than anyone and anything. He was obsessed. She was a drug and each time he was two feet away from her, he started to show cold symptoms of withdrawal. Bloodthirsty withdrawal.

"I—I was just joking boss," Sam backpedaled, "you don't have to look at me like that."

Kieran's eyes narrowed. Like a snake scrutinizing its prey, Sam felt like a mouse about to be served on a dinner plate. He shivered and his hands instinctively crossed his chest in a mere attempt to guard himself. Not like that would work. He was stronger than Kieran, but Kieran also knew martial arts. He could easily slam his head into the table with enough force to watch him choke and bleed out on the cold concrete floor.

"So... anyway, you should—you should talk to your wife. If she saw the message, she probably assumed it was something... indecent."

He needed Kieran to speak. To say something. Because the silence was getting overwhelming and his gaze was drowning him in tar. Hot, sticky tar that made his body break out into a sweat and his lungs clog up each time he shuffled in his seat.

"Fine."

Sam exhaled. He was dizzy, just how long was he holding his breath?

Kieran leaned back into his seat and stopped cradling his head in his hands. He was still on edge, Sam could tell, but at least he wasn't staring at him like he was planning a blood-soaked feast.

"Sam."

He inhaled, "yes?"

"Don't talk about her again."

Sam flinched. His hands wiped at his thighs and he nodded, staring at the gritty concrete under his shoes, "...yes boss. I won't bring her up again."

He was lucky someone ended up knocking on the door.

Kieran's face fell into indifference whenever a runt knocked on the door. He called for them to come in and soon a hairy man, clear of all common mafia tattoos, scurried in. He lowered his head and nervously tugged at his beard. He was shaking. Sam and Kieran leaned forward in their seats, picking up the strange atmosphere.

"Sorry to bother you, boss," the man choked out, "but some members from Leovana are here. They—They said they have a gift and message for you from, uh, from their boss."

Sam's eyes widened. He glanced over to Kieran, noticing the emotionless facade he was wearing. Why did he seem so nonchalant about it? The damn CEO of Leovana was their known enemy, even if he wasn't in any close mafia groups. He was a standing pillar who somehow continued to stay upright even when he was in a field of mafia men. It wasn't normal for a random CEO and his business to stand tall even in situations like this.

"What's the gift?" Kieran deadpanned.

"They didn't say."

"What's it held in?"

"A small box, boss."

Sam chewed on his bottom lip. He doubted it was a bomb, the bastard wasn't that tactless. However, Kieran looked like his head was going to explode based on how much he was rubbing his temples. He sighed and shrugged the anxiety off his shoulders, turning to face the man before Kieran had to say anything.

He didn't. Instead, Kieran pushed up from his desk and fixed his undid his messy bun into a low ponytail. He brushed a couple of strands from his face and walked to the door. Sam had a gut feeling that he was planning something, like usual, but it was going to be gorey this time.

"Sam, you're coming with me."

He grabbed his sunglasses off the table and put them back on. "Aye Aye."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

RANDOM KIERAN FUN FACTS

• Kieran makes the MC food every morning each time he can. Sometimes he makes it before he leaves at night and puts it in the fridge so she can warm it up later. The only times he doesn't make breakfast is when he's away for days.

• Kieran got his first tattoo before age ten for mafia purposes. It's the symbol of his family's group.

• Kieran is ACTUALLY an editor. It's not some lie, he does work as an editor for a coverup and does speak with authors and clients in face-to-face meetups.

• Kieran has a special charm tattoo on his arm that he got so he could always kiss it for good luck. It's the black cat that she doodled when they first met. Yes, something as small as that is important to him.

LINKS:

— 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳

— 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘢𝘥

— 𝘘𝘶𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘷

[ P.4 ]

[happypeachsludgeflower]

SVSSS BRAINWAVE JUST HIT! I HAD A THOUGHT ™

An average modern person transmitigates into SVSSS. Mind you, I specifically mean SVSSS and not PIDW. That’s right, our protagonist awakens to find themselves as a NPC in the world of Scum Villain Self Saving System. And they think to themselves upon waking up, “Oh, I’m an NPC in a xianxia novel with a happy ending! Cool!!” and goes about their life being a background nerd geeking out about plants, and monsters, and cultivation in general, and neat flying swords.

But this is a world of sex pollen and wife plots and unfortunately the cure for a lot of diseases is duel cultivation with a heavenly demon, and we all know who that demon is going to end up marrying, so it’s best to mess around with meta cultivation knowledge and prep for the worst case scenario, and honestly, they may as well solve some of the minor issues in the plot while their at it, so they invent some new cultivation techniques from some of those nifty svsss fanfictions they read while alive (I’m specifically thinking of this fic’s explanation of duel cultivation and cauldrons, but other weird cultivation methods could be used from other fanfics and xianxia books), so they can tidy up some things.

For instance, is it really necessary for Zhuzhi-lang to be stuck as a weird snake creature for nearly twenty years? Is it really needed for Yue Qingyuan to have crippled cultivation due to his sword?? Does Tianlang Jun have to be stuck under a mountain and then escape only to slowly die in a decomposing body??

They know they can’t change everything without the system interfering, but small nudges should help right? After all, they’re just a background NPC and Shen Yuan will show up eventually and everyone will fall in love with him and no one will even notice the NPC’s existence even if they had noticed something was up during their miraculous healing and salvation spree.

So they go about fixing those things. They catch Zhuzhi-lang unawares and feed him a sun and dew mushroom seed while he’s confused and do some funky cultivation shenanigans and pat him on the head cause he’s really such a cute weird snake creature and give him some vague warning about not trusting in laws and then fucks off to somewhere else.

I’m still caught up on Metagaming’s concept of duel cultivation transactions where you give and take—like taking something from someone’s cultivation, not just power, and returning something else—and keep getting stuck in a brainrot loop of the NPC taking some bloodmite powers from Zhuzhi-lang when they gave him a fully humanoid form that’s not reliant on Tianlang Jun. So my main idea for how the NPC plots to hold Yue Qingyuan in place is feeding him lesser bloodmites (not full ones because they only took a minor ability and can only hold someone for a few minutes before the bloodmites die), while they hold Yue Qingyuan still long enough to draw some ritual to heal his soul and separate it from Xuan Su. But honestly, I’m sure other ideas could apply here too. My Metagaming brainrot is just too strong right now to think of any.

And Tianlang Jun? Simple. Zhuzhi-lang’s got a humanoid form and can easily get the sun and dew mountain flowers for himself. They can’t stop the man from being imprisoned entirely. The system says no since Luo Binghe needs a dramatic entrance. So while they can’t stop the tragedy, they can put some pieces into play for an early escape, maybe a new plan to get him a better body once’s he’s back, and be a ferry for Su Xiyan’s body to revive her at some point as well.

It’s nice being an unnoticeable NPC, isn’t it? You can do whatever you want and no one’s going to know!!

Except. Someone does notice (as we all could have seen coming). And Shen Qingqiu is suspicious as fuck of this obnoxious Shidi because he notices everyone due to paranoid, and he’s even MORE suspicious of the mysterious character that healed Yue Qingyuan’s soul (and wasn’t that a doozy of a realization to have when Yue Qingyuan burst into his bamboo house one day freaking out because some disguised, powerful cultivator somehow did the impossible after ambushing him and holding him down as they healed his soul, and Shen Qingqiu is still reeling from learning that Yue Qingyuan’s SOUL was damaged trying to save Xiao Jiu and the stubborn asshole never told him because he apparently assumed Xiao Jiu knew there wasn’t a single universe where Qi ge didn’t try to come for him). And so yea, Shen Qingqiu is suspicious as all hell and starts snooping and plotting to catch the mysterious cultivator by combing through Cang Qiong because whoever it is has to have an in at the sect somewhere to know about Yue Qingyuan’s soul.

And that’s not even mentioning how suspicious Zhuzhi-lang and Tianlang Jun are now. They might not have realized what that strange cultivator did when they did it, or understood the cryptic in law mention, but they certainly have some suspicions now that Tianlang Jun was as imprisoned by in law like people, and Zhuzhi-lang kept his humanoid form just fine without Tianlang Jun, and now the hunt is ON for the mysterious benefactor, so they can repay the kindness and find out what the fuck is going on.

The NPC is, of course, oblivious to all of this going on and goes about their merry way thinking they’re being the Best ™ at being lowkey. They are SO good at being inconspicuous!! They deserve an award really!!

And then. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t qi deviate.

Shen Yuan doesn’t show up.

Oh shit, the NPC thinks to themselves as they begin to panic. They even check Shen Qingqiu out themselves to see if it’s Shen Yuan just being really good at acting. Maybe he was a better actor in the book than he gave himself credit for or something?? But no. That’s Shen Qingqiu all right. Shen Yuan is missing in action, and someone has to fix the plot of Cang Qiong is doomed.

Thus begins the NPC’s journey to try and unobtrusively fix PIDW’s child abuse problems (that they’re unaware are already fixed), save Liu Qingge from his qi deviation in Ling Xi Caves, make sure Luo Binghe doesn’t raze the sect to the ground someday and hopefully find him some sort of husband replacement to keep him under control when he does return, possibly dispose of the Huan Hua Palace Master at some point because he’s vile trash, and did I mention there are multiple man hunts for this poor oblivious dude currently on going??

And the most important question for them to solve? Where the fuck did Shen Yuan go??

Hmm I wonder where that man could have gone.

[weiweific]

jaemin fic recs .₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

ok hello hello this is just a list of my fave jaemin fics in no particular order!

(m) smut | (f) fluff

one shot

i love hot nerds by @domjaehyun | m | 8.7k college au, perverted and nerdy shy boys jaemin & haechan author summary: when your professor pairs you with the two smartest students in your class for a group project, you find yourself making an interesting deal with them. or, alternatively: the one where you have to help two nerds learn to get girls so you can pass your class.

just so you know by @sluttyten | m | 20.9k friends to lovers, poly mmf with jeno and jaemin author summary: you’re kinda with jeno, but when you realize his best friend jaemin is in love with you too, well it complicates things

angel baby by @neopuppy | m | 8k alpha/omega dynamics, pregnant y/n, neighbour jaemin cookie jar by @neopuppy | m | 7k dubcon, stuck in dryer au, jeno & jaemin stepbrothers stepcest

this untitled jaemin oneshot by @haetrack | m | 6.4k pwp, inexperienced y/n

diet pepsi by @mochidoie | f | 10k flirty jaemin, the tensionnnn author summary: Accidentally walking in on your best friend’s hot housemate half naked with a towel around his waist in the bathroom was never in your plans. But maybe, it was in his?

persimmon problems by @starsstuddedsky | f | 18.3k uni/college au author summary: fantasy crushes are all fun and games until it stops being a fantasy and he’s really talking to you. but what are you supposed to do when he invades every part of your life?

hush, hush by @domjaehyun | m | 19.5k foursome ft. jeno, haechan & jaemin

besties (gone sexual) by @tyonfs | m | 43.4k college au, best friends to fwb to lovers author summary: na jaemin, resident playboy and serial heartbreaker on campus, thinks he might have a crush on you. this is concerning because he’s slept with your roommate before, who called him something along the lines of “a waste of a human.” another reason why this is concerning is because you happen to be jaemin’s best friend of seven years, and you know far too much about him to ever consider dating him.

stargirl interlude by @tyonfs | m | 5.9k influencer y/n, strangers to lovers author summary: and i shouldn’t cry, but I love it, starboy / i just wanna see you shine ‘cause i know you are a stargirl

j.crew by @sluttyten | m | 11.4k gangbang ft. johnny, jaehyun, jungwoo, jeno & jaemin

sniff by @guanana | m | 7k sniffing kink, pwp poly!nomin one shot by @jenosbigtoe | m lots of drabbles as well!!! linking their masterlist here

f4 by @starryhyuck | m | 4k+ slight dubcon, featuring mark, jeno, haechan and jaemin as f4 author summary: the most popular guys at school are wanted by everyone and anyone. the problem is… they only want you.

Drippin’ [Dream ‘00 line] by @ncteez '00 line x reader, mild dubcon, birthday sex author summary: “It’s too late to run away, you started this game first.”It was a joke, you swear. Sharing something like that with your group of horny man-friends was definitely a recipe for disaster. That one little tweet sets off a string of events that prevents you from pretending that you wouldn’t fuck your friends. Because you would, and they know it.  or the one where you’re considered a tease with the shit you share privately online, and they’re just about fed up with the way you act innocent and uninterested in what they’re packing. 

series

talk to my skin by @fadedncity | m | 13.8k college au, friends to lovers, fwb + pt. 2 if you let me (18.6k)

strawberry cough by @hazyhae | m | 9.1k plug!jaemin, friends/plug to lovers ahh, weed use author summary: when your longtime bestie and plug moves out of town, he recommends one of his buddies to fill your weed needs. jaemin is glad to deliver that and maybe even more. + pt. 2 sour tangie (6.3k)

quarantine chronicles by @domjaehyun | m | 3 parts | 126.7k featuring jaehyun, johnny, jungwoo, mark, haechan & jeno author summary: fourteen days, five roommates, and five remarkably high sex drives. what could go wrong?

[vilnmelling]

NPMD Digital Ticket details!

Since not every can/can afford to/wants to buy the Digital Ticket for Nerdy Prudes Must Die (and the bonus material that comes with the purchase), for your inclusion purposes, here's a list of fun background details, funny moments and comments made in the track commentary, for you to use however you like!

Ruth doesn't actually need to wear her headgear anymore, but she wears it anyway because it makes her feel safe.

Jeff pitched a Nightmare Time episode about the problematic puppy from Steph's verse of High School Is Killing Me, meaning there is a story there.

In the line, "I learned that at the anti bullying assembly last month, fucknugget!" there's a long pause before "Fucknugget!" which really makes it sound like Max forgot to insult Richie and just threw the word out.

All of the little noises Ruth makes, she makes because she has more she wants to say, but she can't say them (presumably due to anxiety).

In the proshot, you can't see fully how low Richie goes while he and Ruth sneak up on Peter, but Jon is fully crouched down. He then uses Pete's pockets and elbows to climb up like he's climbing a mountain (he mimes using a pick or axe to get good hold).

While Steph is talking, Ruth and Richie try their best to hear through the phone by getting as close as they can to it.

The reason Max and Jason were in the Pasqualli's parking lot is that they were practicing their skateboarding. They do that at Pasqualli's instead of at school/at a skatepark because they don't want the smoke club and skater kids to make them look like noobs. (This was a cut bit from the Pasqualli's scene).

The line, "Some big... dumb... sexy... football star" is expanded. In the Digital Ticket, Grace says, "Some big... dumb... sexy... sweaty... hot... well-spoken... beautifully tall football star."

When they're in the boys bathroom, Steph jumps to see over the stalls.

Richie Naruto runs when they're going to Waylon Hall. Pete slaps his hands down, but after they pause to look at the house, Richie looks over his shoulders at Pete a couple of times before darting away from him, once again Naruto running.

Richie stops in the door at the Waylon Place, so Pete pushes him inside.

Ruth and Richie speak at the same time when they say, "I'm allergic to deodorant" and "I have overactive sweat glands."

Ruth goes straight to Richie to complain after the "pus in my pits" exchange with Steph.

When Steph suggests saying there's a party at the Waylon Place, Pete, Ruth and Richie all react negatively (mostly nervously groaning).

While Grace sings the "He's just a nerd in disguise!" line, Richie can be seen practicing the first move of the Bully the Bully dance.

After Ruth says, "We're gonna cut off his nips!" you can see Steph look confused and ask, "What?"

While Pete and Richie talk in the Waylon Place ("Am I reading as ghost or Lin Manuel Miranda" & "She came all the way out here just for you."), Ruth and Steph discuss and practice Ruth's skeleton moves.

Richie gets stuck in the dangling parts of Pete's costume when he says, "You could just hit it and quit it, bro!" He then aggressively detangles himself.

The line "He's just really fucking brave!" comes from Richie being jealous that he's not that brave.

Richie hypes Ruth up a bit after Max says her skeleton bit was really special.

Grace hides behind Ruth while Max is dying.

Richie rolls his eyes when Grace says "It was an act of god!" (Similarly, Shapiro sighs and looks away in disbelief when Grace later says "It was god's plan!")

Pete gags when Grace says "Hack all his limbs off." Richie can also be seen gagging and holding his stomach several times.

Ruth hands Max's nipples over to Grace after cutting them off.

Jeff Blim is the principal of Hatchetfield High. Not a character of Jeff's, just Jeff himself.

Brenda still seems quite judgmental after the two weeks have passed. She makes a lot of not-quite-friendly faces when the football team's talking about Richie smelling bad.

When Richie struggles to remove the Zeke the Fightin' Nighthawk costume, he accidentally removes his jacket as well, leading to Jon having to put it back on (which he also struggles with) (and which creates a funny situation, since Richie was supposed to go shower).

Richie seems to have hurt his leg by the second fall in Nerdy Prudes Must Die (the song).

After Steph tells Grace to "Leave Ruth alone!" in the principal's office, Ruth tries to grab Steph's hand.

The wig Joey wears when he plays Dan Reynolds isn't Dan's real hair. Dan Reynolds wears a toupée.

Trevor and Angela's drama student encourage each other after they finish rehearsing.

Additional line when Grace is lying to Shapiro: "Suddenly, I remembered a crucial detail that made everything make sense. A picture came flashing into my mind, like I was Enola Holmes!"

"My dad sells women shoe! Shoes!"

Angela misses the chair at Beanie's and falls on her ass, leading to her, Joey and Mariah (mostly Mariah) breaking character.

During The Summoning, Tinky focuses ONLY on Pete. The entire time, he looks like he's restricting himself from lunging out and attacking him. At one point, he points at the Bastard's Box while staring at Pete.

90% of the time during The Summoning, Pokey's staring at his own mask.

Steph facepalms after Max says "That's nasty! ... I like it!"

[justlemmeadoreyou]

rain-kissed* (footballer!harry x

nerd!y/n)

summary: y/n and harry, former rivals turned reluctant partners, find unexpected chemistry. heated glances, playful banter ignite a spark. a near-tragedy makes y/n confront feelings, and...will they be reciprocated? ft. lots of mutual pining

words: 6.1k

warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of a major injury, cursing, kissing, hints of smut, mutual pining.

Y/N groaned as she walked into the lecture hall for her literature class. "Are you kidding me?"

There in the very front row sat Harry Styles - captain of the football team, president of one of the biggest frats on campus, and certified douchebag extraordinaire. His feet were obnoxiously propped up on the desk in front of him as he laughed loudly with his friends. 

"This class is gonna be a nightmare," Y/N muttered, taking a seat as far away from Harry's circle as possible. She couldn't stand arrogant jocks like him.

Class started and the professor cleared her throat loudly, shooting Harry a pointed look until he dropped his feet to the floor with an eye roll. "Alright, since this is an upper-level lit course, we're going to kick things off with a big group project."

A collective groan went through the class. Group projects were the worst, especially when half the group didn't pull their weight. Harry raised his hand lazily.

"What's the project, Millers?"

The prof narrowed her eyes at Harry's casual address but proceeded. "You'll be analyzing the themes and formatting an anthology of poems, plays, and short stories from a particular era or movement. I'll be assigning the groups and topics."

Y/N mentally prepared herself to get stuck doing all the work as usual for her group when Millers started listing off the pairings. 

"Styles and Y/L/N - you'll be covering the Romantic period."

Y/N's head whipped up in horror as Harry scoffed loudly. Of course they'd get partnered up. This was quite literally her worst nightmare.

"Fucking kill me," Harry grumbled, slumping back in his seat rudely.

"I'd rather work alone," Y/N couldn't stop herself from retorting. Immediately, Millers zeroed in on her with a stern look.

"I don't recall there being a choice, Ms. Y/L/N. Unless either of you plans to drop this course, I suggest you learn to work together effectively."

Gritting her teeth, Y/N forced out a tight, "Yes, Professor."

Harry was already texting rapidly on his phone, not paying any attention. This project was going to be utter hell.

The rest of the semester only proved Y/N right about what a nightmare it would be to work with Harry. Their first meeting to divide up the work went about as well as could be expected - which is to say it was a total disaster.

"Look, I don't have a bunch of time for this bullshit poetry stuff," Harry kicked back in a creaky chair, looking entirely too at home in the empty classroom they'd claimed for their work session. "How about you just do the whole thing and I'll, like, proofread it at the end or whatever?"

Y/N stared at him incredulously. "Absolutely not! This is a hugely weighted project, Styles. I'm not doing all the work myself."

He shrugged impatiently. "Why not? You seem like a big ol' nerd who'd be into this."

Biting back a retort, Y/N forced herself to remain calm and reasonable. If he was going to act like a damn child,she had to be the adult in the relationship–or whatever this was.

 "Forget it. We're going to split everything 50/50 whether you like it or not. I'll take the poetry analysis and you can have the plays. We'll swap sections to proofread before compiling the final thing."

Harry made a face like she'd asked him to perform surgery. "Do I have to? Plays are so boring."

"Don't care," Y/N said flatly. "You're pulling your weight on this one way or another."

With a melodramatic huff, Harry finally agreed and they were able to separate the reading materials and due dates before parting ways, both dreading the long weeks ahead.

Except...after trading several heated email chains and a couple disastrous coffee shop meetups, something shifted. Maybe it was the punctuality that struck after virtually living in the library for a week straight. Maybe it was how they both surprised each other by not being complete idiots about the subject matter. But at some point, the bickering and resentful silences turned to a bearable truce and even - dare Y/N think it - a hint of reluctant respect between them.

Y/N had assumed Harry was just another brainless party bro who skated by on his looks and family money. But to her surprise, he actually had intelligent insights into the Romantic poets and playwrights - even if he still whined about having to read "this dramalogy crap." 

And Harry, who had fully expected Y/N to be an uptight, pretentious book nerd, found himself caught off guard by her whip-smart analysis...and her unexpected sarcastic quips that had him stifling laughs more than once during their study sessions. He called her nerd instead of her usual name, but was now slipping back to using Y/n more often.

"Oh my god, you did not just say that about Lord Byron!" Harry snickered as Y/N made another scalding comment about the poet's arrogant womanizing. 

"What? The man was an infamous manwhore by all accounts," Y/N shrugged unapologetically. "Self-important dickhead thought his brooding and philandering made him a genius."

Harry gasped in mock offense. "How very unromantic of you, love! Have you no poetic soul?"

Without missing a beat, Y/N deadpanned, "I prefer to admire poets who didn't give the clap to half of London."

The startled laugh that burst from Harry's lips was so warm and uninhibited that Y/N felt an unexpected little flip in her stomach at the sight. Whoa, what was that?

Shaking it off, she hid her face behind her book again, tamping down an oddly giddy–sort of feeling. Just because she'd managed to find Harry slightly less insufferable lately didn't mean anything.

And so it went, their bickering gradually becoming more lighthearted and playful rather than biting. The weeks ticked by as they somehow formed an unlikely...friendship? Bros? Sure, they'd go with that for simplicity's sake.

At some point, they started expanding their hangouts beyond just study sessions too. Grabbing food after class turned into actually sitting together, Harry regaling Y/N with stories from his frat's latest shenanigans as she pretended not to be entertained. 

On the rare nights Y/N wasn't holed up writing papers, she started joining Harry and his boys at their favorite dive bar, quickly becoming the calm voice of reason trying in vain to talk them out of their next boneheaded plan.

"Come on, PlainJane! Live a little!" Harry teased, throwing an arm around her shoulders at the bar. 

The rowdy group cackled at Harry's horrible attempt at a literary-themed nickname for Y/N, as per tradition when any new face got absorbed into their friend circle. Personally, Y/N thought it was a lame pun, but she secretly loved how easily she'd slotted into their bizarre fratty family...and maybe especially how Harry always seemed to plaster himself to her side whenever they went out.

The camaraderie and effortless banter flowing between them should've been a huge red flag that something was shifting. But Y/N was quite stubbornly oblivious, as was Harry in his own way.

At least, that was until their big group presentation day rolled around. They'd been prepping and quizzing each other for weeks, reviewing notes and analysis essays till they were cross-eyed. Harry had really stepped up, much to Y/N's surprise, retaining way more than she'd expected about the playwrights and their major works.

The whole lit class was spread out in the lecture hall, with bullet-pointed notecards and thick anthologies ready as the first group took the floor. When it was finally Harry and Y/N's turn, they moved to the front in sync, Harry shooting her a subtle wink as he grabbed the microphone first.

"Buckle up, kids - this is how you do a proper literary presentation," he drawled cockily.

Y/N rolled her eyes on reflex, biting her lip and bumping his hip with hers in playful admonishment. "Shut up and just start already."

Neither of them noticed the amused looks being swapped by their classmates at their easy rapport. Or Millers leaning back with a knowing smirk, clearly recognizing the chemistry flying between her formerly antagonistic partners.

For the next hour, Harry and Y/N launched into their meticulously prepared overview of the key figures and works emerging from the Romantic period. Their back-and-forth was flawless yet casual, almost playful at times with little ad-libs and jokes only they were in on.

At one point, Harry lightly mocked Lord Byron's arrogance with a pompous impression that had Y/N doubled over giggling into the mic, barely choking out the next lines through her laughter. When she managed to catch her breath, she shot him a look that was equal parts fond exasperation and...something more heated.

There was a noticeable spark between them that had clearly evolved far beyond the adversarial classmates they'd started as. And if anyone could miss that subtext, it became blindingly obvious at the end when they seamlessly transitioned into their concluding remarks, standing shoulder to shoulder.

"So in summary, while the Romantics may have been a pretentious bunch of melancholic lads-" Harry began.

"-their pioneering works cemented their place as quintessential figures in literary history," Y/N picked up without missing a beat. 

They shared a grin before finishing in unison, "And that's the tea, no cap."

A surprised burst of laughter rang out from their classmates at their cheeky sign-off, even the prof hiding a smile behind her hand. Everyone could see it - the easy chemistry, the almost electric undercurrent between the former rivals.

Everyone, that is, except Harry and Y/N themselves. 

As they moved to return to their seats amid the applause, neither seemed to register the weighted looks and muffled whispers following them. Harry just ducked his head with an almost bashful smile, still riding the high of how flawlessly they'd worked together. While Y/N felt her cheeks flushing under the weight of what she convinced herself was just residual adrenaline.

In the weeks after their wildly successful presentation, that same strain of electrifying connection only grew stronger between them. You'd never know they'd spent the first half of the semester low-key loathing each other based on their current vibe.

Now, when Harry's frat brothers tried to rib him about his "study buddy" at their typical dive bar hangout, he just threw an arm around Y/N's shoulders and proudly declared, "More like my brain twin!"

Y/N would just duck her head with a bashful grin, pointedly ignoring how her heart did a little somersault at both the affectionate nickname and Harry's easy touch.

Or like when they sprawled out on the quad between classes, passing a bag of chips back and forth as Harry ranted about his coach riding his ass over the big rivalry game next week. Without even thinking about it, Y/N would reach out to squeeze his knee consolingly as he huffed out his frustrations. It was such a simple, natural gesture between them now that she didn't even register the slightly stunned look Harry shot her before clearing his throat gruffly.

Even their friends couldn't resist commenting on their respective obliviousness at this point.

"Bruh, Y/N literally lets you call her 'love' without punching you in the dick," Niall pointed out bluntly one night when Harry claimed, once again, he and Y/N were "just friends." His Irish buddy arched a skeptical eyebrow. "Pretty sure she wants to ride your lancer if you know what I mean."

Harry smacked him hard while trying not to get flustered. "Shut the fuck up, asshole."

While on Y/N's end...

"Sooooo, when are you gonna admit you have a huge crush on Styles?" Her friend Riley asked point blank over brunch, making Y/N nearly choke on her mimosa.

"What? No I don't!" She insisted a little too quickly, refusing to meet Riley's all-knowing gaze. "We're just...really good friends."

Riley hummed disbelievingly. "Right. And I'm the Queen of England."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest further before clamping it shut as her mind started helplessly rehashing all her favourite little moments with Harry over the past few weeks. His warm, anthracite eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed at her jokes. The proud grin he'd get whenever she successfully understood something he'd tried explaining. The way she felt this inexplicable magnetic pull to stay pressed into his side for as long as possible whenever they hung out...

"Oh my god," she breathed out, smile slipping as the enormity of her revelation dawned. "I'm in love with Harry fucking Styles."

That's not to say the smitten epiphany immediately changed anything between the two. Well, maybe it made their lingering hugs and casual touches go on for a few beats too long. Or had them both shyly stealing glances when the other's back was turned.

***

Mostly though, they just continued their cozy, obliviously pining routine of late night FaceTimes and weekends holed up studying together for finals. All while Harry's team prepared for their annual football rivalry game - the biggest matchup of the season that would make or break their championship chances.

The night before the game, Y/N found herself inexplicably anxious as she sat in the stands amid a drunk, raucous crowd. Harry kept shooting cheesy grins and double finger-gunged winks her way whenever he trotted past her section, clearly buzzed on adrenaline.

"Go get 'em, superstar!" She shouted at one point, laughing as Harry blew her an obnoxious kiss before getting back in the huddle.

The energy in the stadium was electric and infectious, Y/N finding herself caught up in the cheers and chants despite not being a huge football fan normally. Something about watching her...Harry out there gave her swirling butterflies low in her belly though.

As the intense game raged on, Y/N was on the edge of her seat, nails digging into her palms whenever Harry took a brutal hit or made a heart-stoppingly risky play. At one point he got absolutely leveled by a linebacker twice his size, his helmet bouncing sickeningly off the turf.The roar of the crowd faded into the background as Y/N watched in horror as Harry's body slammed violently into the turf. She felt her heart stop as he didn't immediately get back up after the brutal hit.

"Harry!" she screamed, her voice drowned out by the gasps of the other spectators. 

The medical team rushed out onto the field as Harry lay unmoving. Y/N's hands shook with fear as she watched them carefully roll him onto a backboard and load him into the ambulance. She felt tears streaking down her cheeks as the ambulance pulled away, sirens blaring.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally received word that Harry was going to be okay. The doctors said he had suffered a severe concussion and possible spinal injury from the whiplash of the hit. He would need weeks of rest and recovery.

Y/N rushed to the hospital, desperate to see him. When she entered his room, her heart broke at the sight of Harry's battered body hooked up to various machines, a cervical collar immobilizing his neck.

"Harry..." she whispered, taking his hand gently in hers. "I'm so sorry."

Harry's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her voice. "Y/N? You're here..."

"Of course I'm here, you idiot," she tried to joke, blinking back more tears. "I was so worried about you."

A small smile tugged at his bruised lips. "I'll be okay, love. Harry is a thick skull, remember?"

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help grinning at his terrible joke. "Don't scare me like that again, Styles. I don't know what I'd do without you."

A look of tenderness crossed Harry's face that made Y/N's breath catch in her throat. But before either could say anything further, the doctor entered to check on Harry's condition.

***

Over the next week, Y/N diligently stayed by Harry's side in the hospital. She helped feed him, kept him company, and supported him through the difficult early recovery stages. Harry quickly grew restless being cooped up, but every time he tried to get out of bed against doctor's orders, Y/N was there to scold him.

"You heard what the doctor said, Harry. You need to rest and let your body heal properly," she chastised him one day as he tried to get up.

Harry groaned in frustration. "But I'm going stir crazy in this damn bed! I feel fine, Y/N, honestly."

"No, you don't," Y/N said firmly. "You could have had a serious spinal injury. You're lucky it wasn't worse. Now lie back down before I get the nurses to strap you in."

Grumbling, Harry reluctantly complied, though he continued to hate being so confined and immobile. Little did Y/N know, he was already hatching a plan.

A few days later, Y/N arrived at the hospital only to find Harry's bed empty. Her heart leapt into her throat as she rushed to the nurses' station in a panic.

"Where is he? Where's Harry Styles?" she demanded.

The nurse gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, he checked himself out against medical advice earlier today."

"What? No, he can't have!" Y/N cried. She knew immediately where he would have gone.

Sure enough, when she ran across campus to the football practice field, she found Harry standing on the sidelines in his gear, acting as if nothing had happened. White hot fury blazed through her veins.

"Harry!" she yelled, storming toward him as the first raindrops began to fall. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Harry turned with a cocky grin as he saw her approach. "There's my favourite nerd. What's got your panties in a twist, love?"

"You insufferable asshole!" Y/N exploded, not caring that they had an audience of his confused teammates. "The doctor said you needed weeks of rest and recovery! You could have permanently injured your spine!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Relax, babe, I feel great. Probably just overreacted with that whole backboard and neck brace nonsense."

"Are you kidding me right now?" Y/N seethed, hands balling into fists at her sides. Rain began pouring down around them, quickly soaking them both, but she didn't care. "You're incredible, you know that? You have zero self-preservation! No regard for your own safety and well-being!"

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?" Harry scoffed, though his casual demeanor faltered slightly under her furious glare.

"Dramatic? You could've been paralyzed, Harry! Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Her voice broke with frustrated tears. "Don't you understand how terrified I was watching you lying there, not moving? I thought...I thought I might lose you."

Something flickered across Harry's features then. His cavalier mask slipped for just a moment, allowing a flash of guilt and tenderness to shine through that sent Y/N's heart lurching treacherously. Then it was gone, the wall snapping back into place.

"Well, I'm right as rain now, so you can quit your worrying," he said gruffly, turning his back on her.

That was the final straw for Y/N. She grabbed his arm and whirled him around to face her, not caring that they were getting drenched by the downpour.

"You're so fucking reckless with yourself, Harry! Like you have zero self-preservation or even an ounce of common sense! Do you have any idea how scary that was to see you lying there, not moving? How I thought..." Her voice hitched, throat growing too tight to continue as burning tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

Through the rapidly blurring vision, Y/N registered Harry staring, chest heaving like she'd actually winded him with her outburst. His hands hung frozen at his sides, knuckles going white as he watched her come completely unraveled. And still she wasn't finished.

"You can't just keep putting yourself in danger like that! Pulling stupid fucking stunts and flipping off your own safety like it doesn't matter! Because it does, Harry. It matters so much to...to me," she finished in a thick whisper, finally allowing a tear to escape and streak down her flushed cheek.  

A weighted silence stretched between them, Y/N struggling to regain her ragged breathing as Harry continued gaping at her, utterly shocked by her reaction. Waves of tension rippled through the small space separating them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds, Harry seemed to recalibrate. His expression went utterly blank for a beat before, out of nowhere, his eyes hardened into flashing jade. When he spoke, his tone was laced with a chilling detachment.  

"Why?"

Y/N blinked owlishly. "W-What?"

"Why the fuck do you care so much, huh?" Harry exploded, eyes flashing as he aimed his scathing hostility directly at Y/N. "Last I checked, I'm not your boyfriend or your family. I'm just some dumb jock you study with, right?"

Y/N flinched at the biting sarcasm, feeling tears prick her eyes anew at his harsh dismissal. But Harry was on a roll, fists clenching and unclenching as he visibly wrestled with...what? Anger? Fear? She couldn't tell, but his next words sliced deep regardless.

"So why do you get to flip out and pass judgment every time I take a hit, huh? You think I don't know how to handle myself out on that field?"

"That's not what I-"

"No, clearly you don't think I have any sense of self-preservation or whatever psychobabble bullshit diagnosis you want to armchair next!" Harry barreled over her attempted protest, voice rising in a sharp crescendo. 

He took a menacing step closer, using his full height to loom over her in a move that likely would've been intimidating...if his eyes didn't look so pained and conflicted behind that mask of bitter anger. "Tell me, Y/N - what gives you the right to freak out like that, huh? To look at me with those scared eyes like you have any claim over whether I live or die or-"

"Because I love you, dammit!" The confession exploded from Y/N with the force of a meteor strike.

A stunned silence fell over the field as Harry gaped at her, mouth hanging open in shock. Even the rain seemed to pause in the heavy tension between them.

After several moments where Y/N felt her panic rising, Harry finally found his voice again. "You...you what?"

Y/N took a shuddering breath, bracing herself. She had come too far to back down now.  

"I love you, Harry," she repeated, slower and more sure this time. "I have for a long time, you idiot. But you're always so reckless and careless 'bout your own safety. You take stupid risks and shrug it off like getting hurt is no big deal!"

She stepped closer, feeling tears mingling with the raindrops on her cheeks. "Don't you understand? The thought of you being seriously injured, or worse...it terrifies me. Because I couldn't handle losing you. You mean everything to me."

Harry continued staring at her, eyes blown wide and lips parted as if her confession had utterly short-circuited his brain. Y/N pressed on, needing to finally unleash all the feelings she had kept bottled up for far too long.

"I love your stupid jokes and your kind heart. I love how passionate you are about football, even if it drives me mental sometimes. I love the way you always smell like sandalwood and make me feel so safe when I'm with you. I'm in love with every obnoxious, laddish, reckless part of you and I can't keep ignoring it anymore."

She let out a wet chuckle, wiping futilely at her drenched face, her hands still shaking. "So yeah, that's why I care, you absolute wanker. That's why seeing you get hurt destroys me every single time, because the thought of being in a world without Harry Styles in it is just too much for me to bear!"

The words hung heavy in the rain-soaked air between them. Y/N watched Harry open and close his mouth a few times, clearly struggling to find a response. For once, his swagger and cockiness had completely deserted him as her feelings poured over him in an unstoppable tide.

Just when the silence was becoming too much for Y/N to bear, Harry finally seemed to find his voice again.

"You...you love me?" he rasped out, the disbelief and wonder evident in his tone. "Like, you're in love with me?"

Y/N felt her cheeks flush hot despite the cold rain. She gave a small nod, unable to meet his intense gaze. Her heart was thundering so loudly in her ears, she barely registered the shouts and hoots coming from Harry's teammates who had witnessed the whole emotional outburst.

"Shut it, you wankers!" Harry barked over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Y/N.

In two long strides, he closed the distance between them until they were mere inches apart. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as Harry reached up with one hand to gently cup her jaw, tilting her face up toward his.

"Y/N..." he murmured, emerald eyes searching hers intently. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

She let out a shaky laugh, leaning into his touch despite herself. "And ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same way? I couldn't risk that, Harry. You mean too much to me."

Something blazing and tender flickered across Harry's face at her confession. Slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, he leaned in until their foreheads were resting together. Y/N shivered at the intimate proximity, at the way his familiar woodsy scent surrounded her completely.

"You daft woman," he murmured, the words fanning warmly across her lips and making her shiver for an entirely different reason. "Don't you know there's nothing I want more than for you to be my girlfriend? To be able to love you the way you deserve?"

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed at that, her heart feeling fit to burst from her chest. She had spent so long forcing herself not to hope, not to read into the heated glances and lingering touches she shared with Harry. Could he truly feel the same earth-shattering connection she did?

Her eyes blinked open again at the feeling of Harry's calloused thumb brushing reverently across her rain-soaked cheek. He was staring at her with such naked adoration and longing that it stole the breath from her lungs.

"I'm so bloody gone for you, Y/N," he confessed roughly. "Have been for ages now, if I'm being honest. Thought maybe I was imagining things between us or reading too much into it since I couldn't fathom someone as incredible as you wanting a mug like me."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, to reassure him that she wanted every infuriatingly charming part of him, but Harry pressed on before she could get the words out.

"Then today, hearing how scared you were when I got laid out...how you thought you could lose me?" He shook his head slowly, curls dripping rivulets of rainwater down the sharp planes of his face and throat. "Don't know how I didn't see it before, love. The way you care about me, put up with all my shite...it's because you love me. Isn't it?"

It wasn't really a question, more like Harry was testing the words out for the first time and savoring the way they sounded. A thrill went through Y/N at getting to be the one to put that Look of rare, hushed awe on his handsome face for once.

"Yes, Harry," she answered anyway, both hands coming up to cradle his beloved face. "I'm desperately in love with you. The good, the bad, the reckless...all of it."

A crinkly-eyed grin stretched across Harry's lips then, brighter and more vibrant than Y/N had ever seen before. He wasted no more time closing that minuscule distance between them, capturing her mouth in a searing, all-consuming kiss.

Y/N gasped against his lips as the dam finally broke, months of too-long denied want and need bubbling over in heated waves. Harry's hands slid into her soaked hair, angling her head to deepen the embrace as he licked hungrily into her mouth. Y/N clung to him just as fiercely, fingernails scraping against his scalp and shoulders as if trying to physically pull him closer.

They were both panting harshly by the time they wrenched apart, sharing the same air in the infinitesimal space between their swollen mouths. Y/N felt drugged by the glazed, predatory darkness swimming in Harry's blown pupils,by the intimate glide of their rain-drenched bodies.

"Fucking finally," he growled against her lips before diving back in, one large hand splaying possessively across the small of her back.

Y/N hummed in ardent agreement, getting lost in his dizzying taste and scent and touch once more.  It felt like a cosmic star had been reborn between them, the force of their crashing inevitability obliterating all the hurt and confusion from before.

Neither was sure how long they stayed like that, trading desperate, drugging kisses amongst the pouring rain. But eventually, Harry pulled away just enough to nose his way along Y/N's jaw, lips dragging hotly up to her ear.

"Let's get out of this downpour, hmm?" he husked, teeth grazing her shell and making her shudder. "Got some making up to do for being such a blind tosser."

Y/N pulled back just enough to catch the incandescent fire blazing in his darkened gaze. Her breath hitched at the onceiled promise flickering there, at the tips of his wicked fingers already slipping beneath the drenched hem of her top.

It seemed she wasn't the only one who had been harboring some pent-up longing and hunger.

Still, there was one loose end she couldn't resist tugging before allowing Harry to whisk them away...  "Does this mean you're finally going to start taking better care of yourself?" she asked archly, arching one pointed brow. "No more stupid, reckless stunts for my idiotically brave footballer?"

Harry audibly groaned, dropping his forehead dramatically against her clavicle as his hands flexed with bruising force against her hips.

"Whatever you want, love," he conceded gruffly. "No more injuries or shite, I swear it. Now can we please get the fuck out of here before I embarrass myself further by ravishing you in the mud right in front of my teammates?"

Y/N gave a squeak of surprise as Harry abruptly ducked to gather her up in his arms, hitching her legs around his waist in one fluid movement. He sealed his wicked promise with another lingering, molten kiss that left her head spinning.

"Now, where were we..." he growled darkly before striding determinedly off the field, Y/N clinging just as fiercely in his embrace.

The teammates' raucous catcalls and laughter faded into the rainy background as Y/N tucked her face into the curve of Harry's neck, savoring his familiar sandalwood and smoke and the feeling of being wrapped in his arms at last.

She was never letting him go again. Not if she had any say in it.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[skzthelomlhehe]

"But bestie... He's so hot..." "BRO THATS MY COUSIN" Lee Know x F! reader

Masterlist Total Masterlist Tag Reqs:@arestoucries

Genre: smut (A LOT OF IT), fluff, romance (I literally do not know what else genre this shit is please forgive me my exams are coming 😭)

Synopsis: You and your best friend Lee Yuna, both fresh college graduates, go to a beach house that you thought was owned by her uncle. To your surprise it was actually owned by her "snobby" cousin who was to spend the entire month long summer break with you girls. And that isn't the only surprise you'll get... You're in for more ❤️

Warning: use of 'toys', fingering, public sex, pool sex, spanking, mentions of degradation/praise kink (yes both because I'm kinky), soft bdsm, kitten-master Kink, unprotected sex, oral (both M and F receiving), mentions of pregnancy (if you squint)

A/N: Hey guuyyysss~ im back finally lol~ I had so much of writing done but the og post got deleted for some damn reason. Anyways~ I'm on a mission to make it kinkier and smuttier lmao~

Also if you see any typos or mistakes... No you didn't.

Vibe with:

"eekk!! Im so excited for this!! I've never been to a beach house before... Im gonna faint!!" You squealed getting the things out of the car after Yuna had parked it in the garage. "Girl I know! Uncle is so generous to let us have his beach house ALL TO OURSELVES NO LESS!!" Yuna squealed along.

Both of you cheered at the thought of the thrill that laid in front of you. Amidst all the chaotic joy, a voice broke you both out of your fantasies, "Damn why are you girls so fucking loud?? There's people here!" A mascular voice yelled out, seemingly frustrated.

You were still at the back of the car so you couldn't see the man's face. All you got was that the dude had a hot as fuck voice. "Minho oppa?? What are you doing here??" Yuna yelled back.

Minho oppa? Does she mean the Minho oppa she always grumbles about? The very snobby music nerd? You peeked through the car bunker and your jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

"Snobby??? YOU BITCH!! WHICH PART OF THIS MAN IS SNOBBY????" You thought to yourself. The man wore a white tank top and black shorts with beach slippers. His hair was dark brown and fuzzy. FUCKING GORGEOUS! Your heart pounded in your chest. You've never seen a man this beautiful before.

You found your face getting hotter. You were sure it was as red as a tomato. "Y/n!!!" Yuna yelled next to your ear making you flinch and almost tripping. "What the fuck, Yuna?! Why would you yell in my ear?!" "Well maybe if you responded to me when I called you I wouldn't have yelled?!" "jee okay calm down! Now what's going on? Can someone tell me?!"

You looked around, the man aka Minho was chuckling while Yuna rolled her eyes and sighed, visibly frustrated. The guy helped you girls with your million bags and seated you in the giant living room with some juice and snacks.

Silence followed until you couldn't take it anymore, "can someone please explain??" You said frustrated. Turns out, the beach house wasn't Yuna's uncle's but rather Minho's and he was gonna 'supervise' the both of you during your stay here.

Shortly after, Yuna's mum called to let you guys know of it. Apparently she had forgotten to include that part in the list of things you both needed to know. So in conclusion, you were stuck in a huge mansion with your clearly grumpy bestie and her extremely hot cousin. This could either go completely disastrous or... *Aggressively fans face*

"I'm Minho. Lee Minho. Lee Yuna's very hot cousin." Minho introduced himself, giving Yuna a sly smirk before reaching his hand out for a shake.

"Ah I'm Y/N! It's nice to meet you too!" And just as you were about to grab his hand, Yuna grabbed yours instead, "And I'm Yuna. The clearly hotter cousin" she grinned frustrated mockingly at Minho, "and hands off! She's mine!" She hissed, hugging you like a kitten hugging her favourite human.

You giggled at the cute sight in front of you, "you're so cute, Yuna-ssiii~" you cooed at her. Minho leaned back on the couch in a manspread (NO CUZ THATS SO HOT), "oh yeah?" He raised an eyebrow, "we'll see about that. Though... I didn't think you'd snag such a hot friend, kid." He looked at you as if he were a predator looking at his prey.

It was a mystery how he had the innocent face of a bunny but inside he was more like a very sly kitten. "Well... I guess the cousins are similar in that aspect" you thought to yourself.

"now then, how about you guys go ahead unpack and rest up? I've got a pool too so you guys can relax there as well. Let's head to the beach tomorrow. It's already pretty late." Minho said, getting up with a heave. "I'll go prepare something to eat for you guys."

"ugh I'll skip. Driving since yesterday and eating all those snacks has got me an upset stomach. Not to mention having to see your face" Yuna glares at Minho, "I would rather sleep, hmph!" She huffed. Both you and Minho chuckled at her childish behaviour.

"this is why I said we should take turns driving!" You nagged at her, "buuuttt I couldn't possibly let my wifey driiivveee~" she hugged your arm, looking at you with a pouty puppy eyes speaking in a high pitched voice. You flicked her forehead as she returned an "ow!"

After much nagging and pleading, Yuna finally went to go shower while you stayed back to help Minho with the food. "So? How long have you guys been friends?" Minho asked as he cut up the apples while you washed the other fruits. "Ah, we met during the student orientation in college. We both sorta clicked over drinks, lol" you replied. Your eyes sparkled as you reminisced all those memories of you guys together.

"and? You guys are dating or something?" He continued. "What? Pssh! No! Yuna is so much like a child, she feels more like a little sister to me. Plus I'm straight. What about you? Are you seeing someone?" You kept the conversation alive, wanting to know more about this person.

"Nah, I'm not dating anyone." "Why not? You're literally so hot! I can't believe you're single!" Minho chuckled at your response, "haha I guess I just didn't find the one yet." He stopped cutting the apples and turned to look at you, "how about you? You seeing someone?" He asked. You stopped what you were doing and turned your back leaning against the counter, "hmm... Nope! As single as a Pringle!"

Upon hearing your answer, he inched closer to you, until he was standing between your legs, his hands rested on the counter on either side of you, his face inches apart from yours, "and you think I'm hot?" He whispered softly. His voice in itself felt like a drug. Some sort of an aphrodisiac. "Very..." You replied. Your voice low and seductive.

He brushed your hair away from your face, his eyes locked onto yours, "hot enough to want to kiss me, hm? I saw how you were practically drooling over me earlier." He chuckled. A blush crept up your face but you felt a wave of boldness wash over you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him a little closer "Hmmm... Yeah. Maybe I was drooling. Why? Are you gonna kiss me?"

A sly smirk painted your face. Your heart was pounding and you desperately wished he didn't hear. You surprised yourself by how bold you were. Was this really you? Damn... Good job Y/N 👏👏 {round of applause for the klutz!}

"Maybe I will~" he replied, his hand reached for your face, holding your chin gently as his other hand went for your hip, pulling you close. His lips grazed against yours, both of your breaths clashing against each other. You could hear heart beats. At this point, you had no idea whose it was.

Grazing turned to a deep kiss, both of you savouring the soft wet sensation. Amidst the heat of the moment, a sudden sense of deja vu washed over you. All of a sudden it felt like you've faced this similar situation. Breaking away from the kiss, your vision blurry, both of you panting, the foggy view of Minho seemed far too familiar to you. "Ha... Have we met before...?" You asked, still huffing. "Who knows~ have we?" He replied.

"what...?" Just as you were gonna ask more, a loud noise jolted you back to reality, "ARGH!! WHY IS THERE NOT A SINGLE BOTTLE OF WATER UPSTAIRS?!" Yuna yelled. Both of you immediately got back to your original positions just in time when Yuna came downstairs. "Jeez Yuna! You need to stop yelling so much!!" You yelled back.

After a bit more bickering Yuna decided to eat with you guys. The three of you sat on the grand table. Yuna next to you, Minho in front of you. She refused to let you sit with him.

You all chattered and for once, Yuna was finally laughing and not bickering with her cousin. You would steal glances at Minho every now and then and catch him looking at you too. It sent shivers down your spine and butterflies went rampant in your stomach.

After much more teasing, chattering and laughing you guys were done with dinner. "Y/N-aaaaaaahhhh" she whined, hugging your arm again, "come with meeeeee~ our oppa can take care of the dishes hehe~" she giggled, giving Minho a sly grin while she tugged at your shirt.

Minho looked done and disgusted by her whiny act, "ugh do you really think you're being cute right now?? Disgusting!" He pretended to gag while Yuna glared at him, popping up a middle finger. You laughed at the two's bickering and decided to follow, "ok fiiinnee~ I'll go with you but stop arguing jeez!" Yuna returned a very jolly cheer to your acceptance and pulled you upstairs catching you off guard.

You took one last look at Minho who smiled at you slyly before walking upstairs feeling flustered.

Having reached your room, Yuna flopped herself on the bed, patting the mattress asking you to sit down as well. You chuckled, crossing your arms, "Yuna... I haven't showered yet. You do realise that right?" "Gosh! Then go do it, pabo-ya! Why didn't you do it earlier?" She rolled her eyes before both of you joined in on a loud giggle.

You took a towel and a set of clothes before heading inside bathroom. You closed the door almost all the way but peeked through the open crack, "no peeking ok?" You warned, Yuna threw a towel at the door which you closed just in time, "you think I'm a pervert like you or something??" She laughed.

Locking the door, you put the fresh set of clothes and towels aside and proceeded to take your clothes off, looking into the mirror. You rubbed your eyes, suddenly feeling a bit dizzy when a sudden vision appeared in front of your eyes. It was a vision of you kissing a guy. Was it a memory from when you went to that bar a while ago? And if so, why are you remembering it now? You brushed it off and ran the hot shower letting yourself relax in the soothing heat of the (scorching hot) water (cuz you're just a girl 🎀)

After the shower, you came out feeling utterly relaxed. You noticed your friend was sitting up waiting for you while nodding off. You giggled under your breath getting closer to her quietly to boo her. "You're scaring nobody like that, Y/N-ah" Yuna glared at you. "Awww.... Could've played along, y'know!" You whined.

She rolled her eyes again before laughing along with you. Lying down, you turned to your side facing Yuna who was now lying on her tummy. "So? Wanna tell me why you hate him so much?" You asked. "Hate who?" Yuna turned to you. "Your cousin. You guys fight like kids, honestly!" You exclaimed. "Eehh... I don't hate him. He's just super annoying. Plus... There's also that incident"

"incident? What incident?" "The... One... At the... Ba..r.." "the bar??" Before you could get any other answer, Yuna had already fallen asleep. "Yuna? Yuna??? Hey!! You can't just fall asleep like that!!" You tried waking her up but the girl was just out like a light.

You sighed, laying on your back facing the ceiling knowing real damn well that this was gonna make you lose sleep. While your friend slept like a baby, you kept tossing and turning on your side of the bed unable to sleep as expected.

You got up, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. Your head was ringing for some reason. Just what was it trying to remember?? You went to the bathroom again, slipping a plain old bathing suit under a thick bathing robe making your way to the pool.

You loved swimming. Its what you do or at least try to do when you're stressed. You let the robe fall to the floor, gently placing your body in the water that was surprisingly warm. "Wow... Now that hits the spot.." you whispered, let yourself relax in the water.

"Does it now? Im glad." A voice spoke out. A very familiar one that jolted you back to reality. You turned your head to see Minho standing there. No shirt, just wearing shorts likely to go for a swim.

"oh uhm- y-yes..." You found your face getting warmer as you saw the sight in front you. Looking away immediately as if you could hide your expression, "a-are you gonna take a dip? I can leave if you want-" before another word escaped your lips, the man has already walked close to you. When you turned to look at him again, your faces were inches apart. "Nope. It's fine. You can stay." He smiled slyly again.

"My goodness!! When did he get so close?? How can he be so quiet?? What is he? A cat?? " You thought to yourself. Minho sat down on the floor, dipping his legs in the water while you leaned on the edge of the pool wall. It was the shallow end so you could relax pretty well. He gently swung his legs in the water while you made swirls in it. "So? What got you here so late?" He asked, "Hm... I couldn't sleep." You said, sort of absentmindedly before looking up at him. "What about you?"

"well... I usually come down here at times. Im not much a swimmer to be honest, but I've been trying to learn so I could go swimming with my friends. It's too embarrassing to do it in day time though... So I prefer practicing at night" he chuckled.

Your eyes glinted in interest. "Do you want me to teach you? Im a good swimmer myself, y'know!" It was true. You liked swimming and had been doing it since middle school. Plus, this could be an excuse for you to see him more often. You were gonna be staying for a whole month anyway. Might as well make it interesting.

He looked at you with surprised eyes, "you would do that?" He asked. "Mhm! Of course!" You nodded excitedly, "come on now! Get down here!" You raised your hands up, reaching out to him while all he did was stare at you with sparkly eyes. He leaned down, gently grabbing your face in his firm hands placing a soft kiss on your lips.

Your eyes widened at the sudden action, but soon they shut as you felt your heart pounding. You wrapped your arms around his neck, delving deeper into the kiss. Breaking the kiss, you both looked into each other's eyes deeply and passionately. "Couldn't hold back, huh? Who's the one drooling now, hmm?" You whispered in a sultry voice. He chuckled, "I can't help it. You looked so cute~" you gave him a mischievous grin and he raised his eyebrows knowing damn well that grin was no good. "What are you planni-" before he could finish his sentence, you pulled him into the water with a big splash.

He rushed out on the surface, pushing his hair back, "Hey!" He yelled. You laughed at the sight. He looked like a wet kitten who was very angry. After finally gaining stability in the water, he pulled you by the waist causing you to stumble, "and what exactly makes you think you can be so naughty, hm?" He whispered, his jaw clenching. His warm wet hands against your bared waist sent shivers down your spine.

"Now now~ let's not get hasty here~ I'm gonna be your teacher after all!" You giggle, sliding your index finger down the middle of his torso. He scoffed leaning in closer whispering against your ear, "sure teacher... And once you're done teaching me... I'll make sure you feel my wrath." His breath against your skin was hot despite the chill that followed. Your chest heaved as your breath got heavy. You felt your knees get a little weaker.

You pushed him away, holding him at arms lengths, "o-okay! That's enough! Le-lets get the lessons on." You looked away, your face a pretty pink. Minho chuckled, placing a soft kiss on your nose.

And thus, your lesson started. Each touch during the lessons sent sparks up your entire body. The sexual tension was undeniable. Around 45 minutes later, you couldn't take it anymore. The guy was a total novice and got countless giggles out of you from the way he struggled, but given how serious he was, you couldn't help but feel aroused.

"come on let's get going. We've been out here for long... We both will catch a cold at this rate." You said, looking away, trying to walk out of the water. But Minho had other plans. He held your arm as you tried to leave, pulling you in again, "and where do you think you're going, huh?" He raised an eyebrow. A mischievous look painted his face.

"T-to... To get to my room... Obviously..." You blushed hard. You couldn't look into his eyes. Your heart pounded in your chest like there was no tommorow. He gently place his index finger under your chin, pulling your face up to make you look at him. "This fast? I told you, you'd feel my wrath after we were done, didn't I?" He smirked. You whimpered under your breath, "wha... What do you mean...?"

"You're really gonna ask me that? Why don't I show you instead?" And with that, he leaned in for a kiss. At first you were caught off guard, your eyes widening but soon you closed them shut, wrapping your arms around his neck while he wrapped his around your waist, pulling you closer as if to close any bit of gap you both could've had.

You moaned into the kiss, grinding against his crotch. He broke away from the kiss, scoffing again, "hah... What a naughty girl." His voice was a low whisper, a sultry tone. You breathed heavily from the after effects of the kiss. You had been aroused the entire day practically and you couldn't take it anymore.

"yeah... Im a naughty girl... So punish me, won't you?" You huffed, pulling him into a deep kiss again. Your tongue darted out, wanting to penetrate his lips. He smirked into the kiss, granting you permission to enter. Minho grabbed the back of your head, threading his fingers in your hair deepening the kiss.

You moaned into the kiss, your body wanting more. He slid one of his hands down to your ass, grabbing it and giving it a tight squeeze. You squirmed a little in his firm hands. Breaking the kiss, you both huffed. Both of your eyes locked onto each other's in a lustful gaze.

"Let's stop at that, baby... It's just your first day here. Don't want you to get tired too fast..." He chuckled, tugging a few strands of your hair behind your ear, a seductive spark glistening in his dark brown eyes.

The rest was a haze. Somehow you got into bed wearing your nightsuit, your hair dried. Yuna slept like a log unbeknownst to all the adventures you had in that short while. You stared blankly at the ceiling wondering what just happened and soon drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you woke up feeling groggy with the very little sleep you got. To your surprise, Minho was quite energetic as if he didn't get the same amount of sleep as you if not lesser. The entire time you both had breakfast, you couldn't keep your eyes on his. You felt shy... A bit too shy...

The day went by without much except for the sexual tensions that still lingered. Every touch, intentional or not, sent shivers down your spine. You found yourself biting your lip at the thought of wanting to be touched and ravaged by this man.

And thus, it started. A daily routine. Every night you both would come down to the pool when Yuna fell asleep given how heavy of a sleeper she was. You both would greet each with a soft kiss and get into the lessons. When done, you'd give him a reward for doing so well.

It started with kisses, then fondling your supple tits, then letting him feel you from over your bikini that barely counted as clothes, really. On the beach you would sometimes find him staring at you with hungry eyes as you splashed around in the ocean. You would pull him to a secluded spot to make out but that's all. He wouldn't go any further than over the clothes.

A week or so later, he had gotten a lot better at swimming. After you both were done, as usual both of you made out again. He touched you again, making you moan, "Oh... Oppa..." You mewled at his hot touch. He looked at you, eyes widened. You looked back at him, a wave of shame washing over you. "I-im so sorry! I don't know why I..." You looked away and before you could say anything, he pulled your face back to his, diving in to a kiss.

"why? That was cute... You should do it more..." He smirked. You bit your lip. You couldnt take it anymore. The slowburn was too much for you. (Pretty sure it's the same for us as well lol) "no. How about you make me do it, instead?" You gave him a mischievous smirk, giggling like the naughty slut that you were.

He grabbed the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, "make you huh? You sure you can take it?" His voice was stern. You loved it when you were treated bad. It just added to your arousal.

"mhm~ I can take anything~" you hummed. The smirk never leaving your face. Your lips were barely a centimetre apart, the tips of your noses softly grazing against each other.

He chuckled under his breath, his hands reaching for the waistband of your panty, his fingers hooking onto it. "You've been warned, kitten." "so I have~"

Both of you shared a deep hungry kiss, his hands pulled down your panties making you gasp in his hold. He gave your butt a quick squeeze before one of his hands came down to your front, rubbing your swollen bud.

It felt like you could cum from just that. You haven't felt a man's touch in so long. But this time in particular, something felt awfully familiar.

It was then that you remembered, a few months, almost a year ago, you and Yuna went out for some drinks at the bar a few blocks away from your dorm. There, both of you got drunk. You were carried to your dorms by a man who had taken Yuna as well. When he dropped you off at your room, you kissed him, almost making out. You asked him to touch you, so he did, but only to an extent. After having rubbed your clit a little, he stopped. You whined at the absense of his hands. But he said something that you vaguely remember, "not now, kitten. You won't remember it when you wake up anyway. Plus, I would rather do it when you're sober instead." And left. You had finally remembered. That man was none other than... Minho.

"you... We... You were the one who got u-us... home from the... The bar that... day..?" You could barely breathe, let alone speak. But you wanted to ask, and you wanted to know. Minho chuckled, holding your face gently in his hand while his other hand was still busy playing around with your nub, "so you finally remembered, huh, kitten?" He smirked and thrusting a finger in almost instantly making you gasp a moan.

"and since you finally remember... Im gonna give you all the things you begged me for that night... Only if you beg again~" you looked at him in surprise. Biting your lip, you smirked. Your grip around his neck tightening, pulling him closer. "Yeah~ your kitten wants it as much as she did that night. Won't you give it to me~?" Your eyes glistened in plea as your lips puckered to form a pout.

"oh I sure will..." His eyes stayed adamant on yours and so did the smirk on his face as he picked you up, seating you on the edge of the pool. "Spread them." He commanded, you licked your lips and spread your legs wide apart for him to see. He hooked his arms under your thighs, kissing a softly biting your plump thighs, climbing up with each touch.

Soon his face was barely inches apart from your throbbing wet folds. His tongue darted out, licking your slit from the bottom to the top making you shiver. The cold wind flowing on the rooftop added to your arousal as well.

You whimpered and gasped under his touch. His tongue ravaging your insides. Penetrating your hole and licking your swollen nub. Filthy wet sounds along with your moans and his grunts were all you could hear. It was a feeling you'd felt never before. You couldn't understand what made you shiver more, his touch? Or the way the cold wind hit your wet body? Honestly, you didn't care anymore.

You held on to his head, your fingers tangling in his hair into a grip as you pushed him in even more. He unhooked one arm, giving love to your twitching clit whole fingering you ruthlessly. He looked up at you, a moaning mess, with hungered eyes of satisfaction. He chuckled as he sucked more into your folds.

You could feel his veins inside you. Not in a gross way. It just felt so... So right. (Yes I took inspiration from here lol. Credits to @bbokicidal) you bit your lip, trying your hardest not to make more sound than you should. That was, until, you felt a knot form in your belly. And you knew exactly what that meant. "A-ah...! Cuh-cumming! Im cumming!" You moaned out loud. Louder than you were supposed to.

"nuh-uh. Not yet." Minho pulled away from you, leaning up to kiss you again. You could taste yourself. All this time, you'd thought that kissing right after being eaten out would be disgusting but it wasn't that bad. You whimpered and begged, "p-please... Let me cum... Please, oppaa..." Minho just smirked, "not that easy, kitten. You had your chance and you blew it. And it's not gonna be 'oppa' for you anymore." He licked your neck down your jaw. Biting into the flesh above your collarbone.

He got up, sitting next to you kissing you again. "Fuck... Your lips are so delicious I just can't stop kissing them." He whispered, grabbing onto the back of your head, roughly pulling you down. "Your turn." He commanded, your face right above his bulge.

You gulped, pulling his pant down revealing a big throbbing and veiny cock. It was firm and girthy, much like his hands. You were doubtful, wondering if you could even fit it halfway in your mouth. "Go on now, suck." His voice was low into a growl. You were scared but you were equally aroused. Letting your hands trail up to his hot length, you slowly licked the tip, letting it dive into your mouth.

A muffled moan came out of your lips as you struggled to take it all in. (I legit came back to continue writing only to realise the next 7 paragraps (yes I counted) I wrote are gone. Like- gone. Apparently Tumblr didn't save it and I'm losing my mind rn. 🙂) He pushed your head further in, a loud groan left his lips as the tip of his cock hit your throat. You whimpered with the sudden intrusion. It was a bit painful getting used go it, but in no time you loved it. You were a woman with many kinks. You liked a little bit of pain every now and then and this pain was perfect.

You bobbed your head up and down on his dick, liquid oozing out of your lips. At this point, you weren't sure if it was your saliva, his precum or just a mix of both. Minho threw his head back, moaning uncontrollably at your action. You licked and sucked, occassionally pulling away and stroking his length.

"Fuck... You're such a good kitty... You're taking it so well~" he groaned. That just added to your arousal. Your mind was fuzzy and you couldn't think straight. Your eyes glistened in ecstacy and your pupils wouldve turned into hearts had you been in an anime.

You reached down to his balls, massaging his sacs. "Sh-shit Y/N... Cum... Gonna cum..." Minho groaned. Having heard his warning, you pushed his cock deeper inside your mouth. He scoffed at the sight, "wanna drink me up, huh? Since you're so eager, I'll let you swallow every last bit of it. Don't you dare let it go to waste."

Your heart pounded in your chest hearing his threat. Minho was red down to his nape, helping you suck him off. Without wasting much time, with one last thrust in, strings of white warm cum shot into your mouth. You swallowed around his cock making him let out a grunted moan.

You licked his cock clean, following suite, not letting even the tiniest drop go to waste. You didn't let another second go to waste as you climbed up on him delving into a kiss, letting him know exactly what he tasted like.

Your arms rested on his shoulder, both of you panting. Your chests heaving from the heavy breaths. "I've... I've been such a good kitty... Won't you g-give me... A reward...?"

He laughed at your desperation, grabbing your hips. "Yeah... You've been a good kitty... I should definitely reward you." He smirked. You positioned your entrance on his tip while he rubbed on your folds. One of his hands holding your hips steady while the other's thumb played with your clit.

You pushed his cock in, gasping as your hole stretched from the impact. Your head fell on his shoulder. He pushed you down slowly, helping you get used to his size. "Easy kitten... Relax... You're gonna snap me in half..." He groaned. "Big... S-so... Big..." You cried. "Mm... I know, baby... I know... Just a little more..." He hummed.

You let yourself relax in his firm arms, finally putting the entirety of his length inside your core. "Le-lets... Let's stay like this for a little..." "Sure, kitten... Take your time..."

You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, letting yourself get used to his size. A few moments later, after you had finally gotten used to his length, you let yourself lift up a bit and push down. Not a word needed to be said for Minho to grab hold of your ass and help you ride him.

You whimpered and moaned as you rode him. A few thrusts later, your paces fastened. You moaned heavier now, your tits bouncing from the action.

While you rode him, Minho grabbed both your tits, fondling with one and sucking on the nipple of another. "Sen... Sensitive..." You whimpered, shivering from the stimulation. "You like that, don't you kitten?" He continued to lick and suckle on the plump flesh of your breasts.

A while later, you felt a familiar knot form in your belly again. "M'gunna... Gunna cuuumm..." You moaned. Minho was amused and aroused at the sight. "What a naughty slut. A good fucking slut. You haven't even been riding me that long... Gonna cum already?" He groaned, biting your shoulder making you yelp. "Y-yes... Yes...! Please... Let... Let me cum please....!!" You begged desperately. "Go ahead, baby... Go right ahead... Cum all over me..." He lifted you up higher, slamming you down on his cock.

You moaned out louder, feeling an overwhelming wave of pleasure flood in. Letting your load go off on his dick. Flinching and trembling from the stimulation. Safe to say, you were VERY close to losing your mind.

Minho took this chance of your defenselessness and pushed you down on the cold hard floor making you yelp, your eyes widening in surprise. "My turn to go crazy darling... You were being such a dirty little whore just now... I can't let you go that easy can I?" He said, pulling out almost all the way and slamming hard into you.

You shrieked at the sudden slam, "aah!! I-I just ca-came!!" But he had no plans of listening. Slamming into your relentlessly, his pace faster than ever. Your nails dug into his back as if to mark him as yours while he left his love bites on your tits claiming you as his.

Both of you fucked like beasts. He didn't hold back. You let loose again, blowing another load, squirting on his dick. He pulled out, rubbing his dick roughly on top of your belly. "Fuck..." He groaned before shooting out those white strings of ecstasy all over you.

He panted after blowing his load, looking at you with a gaze of deep satisfaction. He used his hand to spread his cum on your belly like some lotion while you laid there flinching. Safe to say, you had lost your fucking mind. "What a sight... What a good fucking sight..." He huffed.

He gave you another soft kiss before picking you up bridal style. He carried you to his room, cleaning the both of you squeaky clean. He put on your night suit on you while you laid there tired out of your mind.

He carried you down to your and Yuna's room where she laid asleep, clueless of all the adventures. Given how thick the walls were and how heavy of a sleeper Yuna was, it was less than likely that she heard you both. You let out a sigh of relief.

He laid you down on the bed, giving you a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. He leaned close to your ear whispering, "I'll see you tomorrow night then, kitten... Sleep well..." You blushed hard, hiding yourself under your blanekt peeking through it like a child.

He chuckled under his breath when suddenly Yuna moved. Turning to face you both and throwing her arm and leg on you. You and Minho flinched thinking she was awake. But she continued to snore. You both sighed in relief again. He waved a bye at you and you slowly waved back.

And thus started a new routine. Every night you would help him learn swimming and after each session, making out was the least you would do. Kissing underwater to full on fucking while your bottoms remained submerged. The nights felt like wet dreams of all your kinks full filled.

One day while on the beach, Minho looked at you licking his lips as he stared down you playing in the water with Yuna in that sexy bikini of yours, thinking of all the ways he'd ravage you that night.

All of a sudden you were approached by three men. They were thin and almost scrawny in your eyes. I mean, after laying your eyes on Minho, any other guy would just look like squids (skz is an exception and you can't change my mind 🗣️).

You let yourself have a small conversation with them since they didn't particularly make you uncomfortable and you didn't wanna seem rude. That was, until, one of the bigger guys rested his arm around your shoulder. That made you uncomfortable. They started cracking jokes that just added to your discomfort.

Before you could pushed them off, a voice called out. "Oi. The fuck do you think you're doing?" Minho chimed in and he looked mad pissed. Behind him stood Yuna in all her glory. Both Lee cousin glaring at the men. Yuna was a black belt in Taekwondo and also recently started learning Muay Thai which meant she was quite built. Minho himself looked menacing since he was well built as well.

Forget squids, the dudes looked like little shrimps on front of the two. Minho glared at the guy who had his arm around you. Without a thought the dude let you go. The three of them looked at each other awkwardly before clearing their throats and walking away, heads hanging probably ashamed.

"hey? You okay?" Yuna asked, handing you one of the bottle of waters she had in her hand. Her gaze soft unlike just a moment ago. Her eyes glistened in concern. You nodded, smiling back at her, "I'm okay. They didn't do anything don't worry."

Minho on the other hand still looked extremely pissed. "Yuna. Go get us something to drink. Gotta cool myself off." He commanded, his eyes locked into yours. You flinched, feeling a little scared but aroused at the same time. "What?? Why me???" Yuna whined. Minho glared at her, making her flinch. "Fuck fine. I'll go. Y/N-aaahhhh come with me!" She was about to hold your hand when Minho commanded again in a stern voice, "She stays. You can go alone." Yuna looked a bit awkward but she didn't say anything. She knew when to not poke her nose and she quietly left.

Meanwhile, Minho grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards a big rock in a secluded area catching you off guard. "What are we doing here?" You asked, you didn't dare look at him in the eye.

(this part with "your guilty pleasure" by Henry Versus is a MUST)

He pushed you against the rock, holding your chin gently. Your lips not even inches apart. Your breaths crashing with each other. Your knees felt weak.

His dark brown eyes had an intense look, his stern gaze never leaving yours. "Did that feel good, kitten? Being touched by some random guy? Think I didn't see you smile all nice and shy to them you fucking slut?" He groaned. Your breath was shaky, fear and lust overcoming you.

"n-no... I... I just... I was just trying to be... Nice..." He mumbled. His hand trailed down to your neck in a feathery light grasp. His other hand, pinning you to the rock. "And who gave you the permission to be so nice, hm kitten? I know you're a whore but don't forget you're mine, ok? You only get to be slutty around me and just. Me. Is that clear, my love?" He whispered back in a sultry voice. His eyes almost looked maniacal. As if he was obsessed with you.

You liked it. You liked being obsessed with. You loved being treated like this. Boldness took over you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder, "why? Jealous? Scared someone else will take me, hm?"

He scoffed, his hold on your neck tightening a little more making you gasp. You looked at him slyly. Loving every touch. "You'll never find anyone better than me anyway..." He chuckled, kissing you deeply. His tongue intruding your lips before you could even react making you moan into the kiss.

That hand that grabbed on to your neck slid down to your tits, squeezing you roughly making you yelp. You tried to break away from the kiss, but he just grabbed on to the back of your head while fondling your boobs, kissing you relentlessly until you were out of breath.

He trailed down leaving wet kisses down to your boobs, suckling on your nipples while his hand slided down your body making you shiver under his touch.

He hooked his hand under your knee, pulling it up to your belly while his other hand pushed aside your panty. "I'll fuck you so hard you won't even have time to think about another dude." He pulled out his cock that was hard and throbbing. He rubbed it on your hole.

But you know what he didn't forget? Foreplay. Sure, he wanted himself to be engraved in every inch of your body, but he didn't wanna hurt you. He spat in his fingers, sliding them in to your pussy. "Fuck... Look how wet you are already, kitten... You like it when I call you those filthy names don't you? You fucking whore." He grunted. The way he called you whore just made you clench around his fingers making him chuckle.

The leg being held was almost starting to hurt as he focused on fingering the wits out of you. After a little more of prepping and deeming you ready, he pulled his fingers our making you whine. He let go of your leg, turning you around. Your back now faced him.

He rubbed his dick on your folds a little more before pushing it in. You moaned, taking him in. He held you, pulling you close to him, shutting down any gap you might've had between the both of you. With his other hand, he turned your head, kissing you as he fucked you till you lost your mind.

You moaned out his name. Honorifics? Well fuck that. He liked it when you called him Minho in that sexy raw voice of yours. "Angh~! Aahh! Min- Minhooo~ too much. You're... G-going too... Too hard... Slo... Slow doowwnn..." You moaned. He spanked your ass and scoffed, "slow down? Slow down my ass. You like it when it hurts. You like when I go rough don't you? I know you can take it, kitten. So take it."

With another hard slam, you moaned loud. He shoved his fingers in your mouth, "shhh kitten... I know it feels good but you gotta keep it down... You can moan like a slut when we're home, love. Be a good girl won't you?" The fingers muffled your moans but you really couldn't hold back. Not when he was being so fucking ruthless.

You grabbed on to his hand. He pulled out is fingers. "Gon... Gonna... Gonna cum master..." You whined. "Oh yeah? Go ahead. Cum all over me, kitten. Do it." He ordered.

Without another wasted second, you bit your lip, letting loose on him. Twitching and flinching from the aftereffects. He pulled out, stroking his dick on your back, cumming all over you. Both of you panted heavily. He took off the small towel that was around his neck and used it to clean both of you up.

You fixed your bikini, still panting. You turned to him, hugging him close. "So? Were you jealous, darling?" You asked, a sly look in your eyes. "Come on, kitten. You're mine and I'm yours... Would you not be upset if some girl was all over me, huh?" You chuckled at the idea, placing a kiss on his lips. "You say that but we aren't even dating yet..." You nuzzled your nose on his, holding him close.

He was about to say something when a sudden noise flinched you both back to reality. Turning towards the source of the noise, both of your eyes widened in horror. It was Yuna. She had gotten drinks for the three of you. But the sight of you guys kissing had made her drop the drinks. She stood there stunned, "Wha... What are you..."

The drive back home was dead silent. Yuna refused to look at you both. Sitting alone in the backseat while you sat on the passenger seat and Minho drove.

When all of you got home, Yuna stormed upstairs. You hurried ans followed her while Minho flopped down on the couch sighing knowing him going up there would just fuel the fire. "Shit... I fucked up real bad didn't I...?" He groaned.

Meanwhile upstairs, Yuna was about to slam the door shut but you came in the way, "Yuna please! I can explain!" You cried out. "Explain what? That you've been screwing my fucking cousin behind my back??"

"look Yuna... Im sorry... But please let me explain..." You sighed. She just threw the door open, flopping down on the bed, seething.

"come on don't be like that..."

"like what?"

"you're mad at me..."

"I'm not mad."

"uh-huh... Sure. I can literally see smoke coming out your ears."

"how long has this been going on?"

"Yuna please look at me..."

"I'll look at you when you tell me."

"f-for a while..."

"how long?"

"since... Since the day we came here..."

Yuna jolted, looking at you with a swift turn of her head, "WHAT?! WHEN?! I WAS WITH YOU THE ENTIRE TIME!!!"

You gulped, "we-well... When you fell asleep... I was giving him swimming lessons and we... Um... Just..."

"wait... When I was SLEEPING?!" She yelled.

"I'm... Im so sorry..." You stood there, like a child being punished for breaking a vase.

"wow... While I was sleeping you slept with my cousin?? Were you like... Recreating the bar moment??" "Wait... You knew...?" "Bitch that's my brother of course I know!! Is that why he's been so nosy about my friends?" She looked away, wondering deeply. "Huh? He was what?"

"argh girl come sit the fuck down. There's so much you need to know." She pat on the bed asking you to sit. You quietly followed.

Apparently, after dropping the two of you off at your dorm, Minho had grown excessively curious about Yuna's friends. He'd been looking to talk to you but always held himself back because he didn't wanna seem weird.

"he would always ask about my roommate but since Kim Bomi is also my roommate I didn't know whether he was talking about her or you. Should've known it was you since he's never seen Bomi. Apparently he's seen you before the bar incident too. He always stopped before asking anything too personal cuz he thought you might find him weird."

You were surprised at the revelation. Realising he might harbour feelings for you. This all happened at the beginning of your third year which meant around 7-8 months ago.

You sulked, feeling like you betrayed your friend. She glared at you, while your head hung, your eyes glued to the floor. She smacked your back, making you yelp, "YAH! WHY YOU SULKING!" "CUZ I FEEL LIKE I BETRAYED YOUR TRUST"

You sniffled, on the verge of tears. "AYE! WHATS THERE TO BETRAY?! I mean yeah I was sorta caught off guard when I saw you kiss my cousin and shit but I'm not betrayed!! Just upset you didn't tell me" she looked away pouting. "I was scared you'd find me weird or shit." "The only way I'd find you weird is if you fucked some 40 year old." You cringed at her statement. Clearly disgusted, "exactly." Yuna scoffed.

"well I mean... If I marry him I'll be... Well... You're sister in law hehe" "girl- I know I always wanted you to be my sister BUT NOT LIKE THIS??? IT FEELS WEIRD!" "But bestie... He's so hot..." "BRO THATS MY COUSIN"

In the end of the day, Yuna accepted the fact that you screwed her cousin despite her finding it cliche. You both came downstairs to Minho sitting down on the couch, manspreading and his eyes closed. While you found it extremely hot, Yuna had a cringed expression.

"get the fuck up, you ass!" She yelled. Minho groaned. Sitting up straight, looking at you both. "Yuna... Look... Im sorry..." "Save it. I heard everything." She crossed her arms, looking away again in a pout, "I know you like her but make sure you make her feel comfortable." Minho chuckled. "I sure will." He looked at you, love overflowing in his eyes. It was then that you realised, what this man felt towards you wasn't just some simple attraction or lust. He actually did like you.

He then turned to look at Yuna, "please don't tell aunty about this, Yuna..." "Don't worry I won't..." She mumbled. Both you and Minho looked down, relaxing your shoulders and sighing. Yuna, although, had other plans. She smirked slyly, "in exchange... You won't tell mum about the fact that my boyfriend and I are gonna go out on a date tomorrow." "Wait what?!" You and Minho looked at her, baffled.

She cackled, finding extreme satisfaction with your reactions. "But thats-" Minho tried to speak only to be cut off my Yuna, "come on you don't want aunty or my mum OR Y/N's parents to know that you guys fucked right? Her mum might let it go... But will aunty and uncle? They trusted you to supervise us... Not fuck your cousin's friend" she smiled as if she were the most innocent beanie in the world.

Both of you were left defeated. Knowing y'all fucked up. And with that, the three of you came into a pact. Yuna gets to hang with her boyfriend while you and Minho get to fuck around and come out to your parents at your own time.

Now... This has stretched out long. Most people would think the story's over. But NAH! Y'all remember the "use of toys" in the warning? Yeaaahhhhh~ this is where it gets wilder.

That night, Yuna and her boyfriend who was a good friend of yours since first year of college as well went out for the night. The giant mansion was now for the both of you to ravish.

Minho picked you up almost immediately after locking the door. He took you to his room, throwing you on the bed. You licked your lips in anticipation.

"now then... Why don't you be a good kitty hm?" He whispered in a sultry tone. He opened a box that was inside his closet and turned it upside down on the bed revealing a lot of things you least expected.

You see, he had found out about your numerous kinks and fetishes in the middle of fucking you. His collection contained cat ears, cat tail with a butt plug, lube, hand cuffs, dildos, vibrators, whips, collars and ropes.

"You mentioned ones that you were into soft bdsm when I was cleaning you up once. 'bout time I fulfil your dreams~" you shuddered at his demeanor. And before you know it, you had cat ears on, hands cuffed and a collar around your neck. He squeezed the bottle of lube on your ass hole, the cold paste making you shiver and whimper. He rubbed on your hole, gently shoving a finger in, prepping you until you were ready to take the butt plug in.

Once you were, he wasted no time shoving the toy in. He bit his lips, shuddering at the sight of you fully prepped to be his kitten. "So pretty... You look so fucking pretty..." He whispered.

He squeezed some lube on the dildo too which was perhaps a little less big than his. Rubbing it on your folds, he leaned in closer kissing you deeply. "You like that don't you?" He whispered, shoving the toy in making you moan ever so loud.

While he ruthlessly thrusted the dildo inside you with one hand and fondled with your breasts with the other, you laid there losing your mind. "You like that don't you? You greedy little slut. You fucking whore. You like it when I abuse you like this, huh? You fucking pervert."

You shuddered, words refusing to leave your lips. "Go on. Tell master how much you love this. Use your words, kitten." "Ye-yeeaahh~ I love it~ I lo-love it s-sooo much ma-masteerr~" your eyes rolled up almost to your head. All this stimulation driving you crazy.

He yanked the dildo out of your pussy making you yelp and whine. He took a vibrator next, pushing it in switching it on the highest setting. Your body shuddered as electric sparks ran through your entire body from the vibrations. You squirted everywhere like a fountain.

He scoffed, taking the whip in his hand, running it through your torso, "haaahh... Look at you... What a mess..." He tutted before whipping you softly on your boobs making you yelp again. At this point, you were beyond gone. There's no way you could've said anything other than incoherent broken sentences which were more like moans.

He whipped you again, your nipples now swollen and twitching. He leaned down on you, kissing you deeply, biting your lower lip. "You like that, kitten? You like being masters little slut?" He whispered in your ear. You nodded, unable to speak. He got up, wipping you again, harder this time, "words, love. Use your words." His face was stern and cold and so was his voice.

You scared by the way he acted, but also aroused out of your mind. "Y-yeesss~ yes masteerr~ I love it... I love it so muuucchh~" you moaned.

He smirked feeling satisfied. "Get on all fours." He commanded. You did as told. Getting on all fours, your face now directly in front of his crotch where you could see his painful bulge through his shorts. You giggled, "hehe... So hard... Master is hard for me~" you mumbled.

He grabbed you by your hair and pulled your head up making you look at him, "that's right kitten. Im hard for you. You're gonna do something about that no? I'll give you a very good reward~" you bit your lip at his suggestion.

Pulling his pants down, his bulge sprang up slapping your face. You wasted no time, shoving his entire lenght inside your mouth. At this point, you were used to his size so it didn't hurt as much as it did before. You went ahead, bobbing your head up at down, swallowing and sucking around his cock.

He threw his head back, groaning as you sucked him off. The feeling was phenomenal. It was something neither of you had felt before, making the experience all the more better. After a while of sucking, he was close. "Hold it in your mouth, kitten. Don't you dare swallow it." He commanded. You fastened your pace as he shot his load inside your mouth, filling you up with warm cum.

He grabbed the back of you head and brought you close to his face. "Show me." He commanded. You opened your mouth wide, bringing out your tongue a little to show him how his milk was in your mouth. He smiled contented, "swallow." Without a thought, you did as asked.

"what a good fucking girl." He grunted, kissing you roughly. "Go ahead... Tell me what you want for a reward?" He huffed. "Fu... Fuck me..." You mumbled. He let you fall on the bed, grabbing the leash attached to your collar and pulling you close, "louder kitten. I can't hear you." "Fuck me master... Fuck me pleeaassee...~"

With that, he smirked, letting go of the leash, snatching away the vibrator too. "Since you're asking so nicely... How can I say no, hm?" He positioned himself on your entrance, thrusting in without warning making your arch your back.

"yeeaahhhh~!! Just like that!!" You moaned while he thrusted in you ruthlessly. He grabbed the leash again, pulling you close kissing you. Your wrapped your arms around him, "te... Tell me... Im your... Your favourite... Tell me I'm yours..." You begged. "Yeah... You're mine kitten... Only mine... No one else's... I love you so much kitten... I love you so much, Y/N."

You felt a shift in the mood when he called your name. What was a rough just a moment ago suddenly became sensual. Feather light touches gliding down your torso, the tight tug on your collar that suddenly felt gentle, his pace still fast yet loving. It felt like you were drugged. Intoxicated in the strongest aphrodisiac.

It felt like time had slowed down. Both your breaths shaky and heavy. Both of you divulged into a deep passionate kiss while he thrusted into you like there was no tomorrow. It felt like you were the main character of an R-rated romance novel being fucked by your lover. (4th wall break who?)

A few more thrusts later, you reached your climax. Digging your nails into his back. With one last push, he came inside filling you up.

He flopped on you, his weight feeling a different kind of warm and comfy. After a bit of lying there still, a sudden thought occured to you. "Wait... Did you just cum inside...? Without a condom...?" You looked at him horrified. He got up immediately, "fuck!! Im so sorry, y/n!! I got lost in the flow and..." He rushed to the bathroom, wiping you clean desperately praying for the worst to not happen.

Usually, you would worry your ass off over this. But you were just too tired. Your entire body ached from the action. "Fuck... Forget it... Im tired..." You mumbled. Minho kissed you on the forehead, "it's okay love... Sleep. I'll clean you up." You hummed and nodded, drifting off to sleep.

Next morning, you woke up at around 11:30. You were fully clothed but you felt wet down there. Rubbing your eyes you wondered if he had missed a spot or two. You got up and went to your bathroom. To your utter surprise, a delightful one at that, it was your period.

"MINHO OPPA!!!" You yelled from the bathroom. You heard something crash downstairs and soon Minho came in slamming the door open. "WHATS WRONG?!" He yelled back. His eyes dropping to your pants laying on the floor as you stood in the bathroom pantsless. "Y-Y/N!! I know I've seen everything but cover up please!!" He looked away shyly.

"aahhh that's for later!!! I started my period!! Im not gonna be pregnant!!!" You jumped in joy. "Oh.." he looked a bit disappointed. You walked up to him, (still pantsless btw) and held his face gently. "What's wrong? Did you wanna impregnate me?" "We-well no but like... Argh I don't know I'm just being dumb." (Minho admitting he's dumb?!?!?! Now you know this is just a fic.) You chuckled at his response, giving him a kiss.

"also... To respond to your statement last night..." You paused, smiling at him, "I love you too..." "Hu-huh?? What??" He looked surprised and confused. "Well... Ever since the bar incident I've been looking for you too... And well... Although I'm not very sure about my feelings... Spending the past few weeks with you... I know my feelings aren't just an attraction towards you..."

He hugged you tight, "thank... Thank you..." He sniffled. You giggled by his actions. You'd thought he was so mature and stuff but really... He was just a little child at heart.

Both of you decided to wait it out a little more before going official. In the meantime you called Yuna to let her know to get some pads since you only had two on you. The final week at the beach house was spent with Yuna and Minho coddling you.

Fin~

I know the story stretched out a lot 😭 I just wanted to include a lot of things in here Lolol hope you guys enjoyed this brainrot!! It took me a long time to write cuz writer's block is a bitch and apparently I attract bitches, good or bad, left and right. Sooo yuh~

Anyways yeah that's that! Make sure to like, comment or reblog if you liked it! Thank you for reading! Next oneshot will prolly come out in like- Jan Lolol till then! Adios!

[pinkolve]

Better-A Spencer Reid Fanfiction

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Summary: Penelope drags you to a bar to meet one Spencer Reid, insisting he's 'just your type.' (She was right.)

Genre: Fluff fluff fluff!!!!

CW: Reader acts a little overstimulated and socially anxious, reader wears glasses, fem!reader, very awkward!reader (to match spencer's freak), use of y/n, first person point of view, early seasons spencer reid because he's my baby, reader is very insecure, reader has an inner monologue, ooey gooey mushy cheesy fluff

Word Count: 1,065

A/N: Hello again!! I'm kind of proud of this one, I think it's pretty cute. I'm thinking of making a part two where you guys go on a nice little date, lemme know if you'd read it!!!

“These heels are fucking stupid.” I groan to Penny.

“At least they look super hot.” Penny shrugged, trying to make me feel better.

“Yeah, not on me.” I groan again, stumbling a little.

“Oh don’t give me that.” I nod right away, waving off her comment.

“Right right, sorry.” Penny had told me I need to stop being so negative about myself. Clearly, I wasn’t doing very well.

“I’m so used to flats, how does any woman manage this?! Jesus Christ!” Penny just laughed.

“We’re almost there, sugar, just take it easy.” We rounded a corner and the bar came into view. We walked up the sidewalk towards the door.

“Remind me why I let you convince me into doing this?” She offered me a hand when my ankle bent a little.

“Hot nerd, remember?”

“Right, right. Spencer’s his name?” I ask.

“Yup! You’re gonna love him, everyone does.” She opens the door and we walk in, the loud music reaching my ears within seconds. I can somehow smell every single person’s drink at once. The music is already starting to get on my nerves. This guy better be as hot as Penny insists he is.

“Please tell me he’s here already. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stand the smell in this place.” My face sours.

“Yeah, yeah! He said he’s somewhere at the bar with Derek!” She looked at me with sympathy. “I promise everything will be alright, I’ll drive you home whenever you’re ready to go.” She smiles and grabs my hand gently.

“Thanks, Pen.” I smile back and let her lead me to the bar. I look down as a bit of hair gets stuck in my lip gloss. I sputter, trying to pull it away. Right when I look up I’m face to face with the infamous Spencer Reid. I notice Penny’s hand is no longer holding my own but I can’t look away from his gaze to find her.

“Hey.” His cheeks are dusted pink, and he offers me an awkward smile. All the words I could possibly say back get caught in my throat. My face is impossibly hot and I can feel every single part of my body practically light on fire. Penny was right…He is insanely hot. I push my glasses up on my face and shake my head.

“Hi, sorry!” I giggle nervously, already embarrassed with myself. “I’m Y/N.”

“Spencer.” He replies. His voice is soft and quiet, like he’s telling me a secret.

“So, Derek and I are gonna go get our groove on!” Penny’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I look over at her as does Spencer. “You two lovebirds have fun!” She squeals before dragging Derek off to the dance floor. I stare at them as they walk off, feeling almost betrayed that she would leave me to fend for myself like this.

“Did she drag you here too?” Spencer’s voice pulls me back in. I look over and his eyes are already locked on my own.

“Yeah, she did.” I laugh. “I mean, I can’t say she had to force me. I was looking forward to meeting you. She did have to force me to put on these devil heels though.” I scowl down at my feet. Spencer lets out a breathy chuckle. I look back up at him with a wide smile.

“She did have to force me. I’m not really good with social interactions. But I’m glad I caved and came anyway.” He looked down at his hands, smiling.

“She talked you up a lot, she really wanted me to come tonight.”

“She talked you up too.” He nodded to himself.

“Oh god, what’d she say about me?” I cringe, remembering all the horrible things she knows about me.

“She said you were sweet, and funny. She also may or may not have used the term, ‘smoking hot,’ when referring to you as well.” Spencer huffed out a short laugh, still staring at his hands.

“Oh geez.” I rub a hand over my forehead. “She always makes me sound way better than I actually am.” Spencer finally looks at me again, his smile suddenly gone.

“What do you mean?” His eyebrows furrowed. I worry I upset him somehow.

“Well-” I take a big gulp. “I just mean that she always says I’m ‘super hot’ and makes me sound like some kind of super model, but I’m very far from it.” My reply is met with silence. Great, you already scared him off with your self-deprecation. Can you be normal for even a second?!

“Honestly, how she described you wasn’t correct at all.” Spencer pauses. And this is the part where he admits that he thought I’d be much hotter than I am. “She said you were ‘smoking hot,’ but I’d say you’re much more…’a goddess who walks the earth.’” He thinks for a second before laughing. “God, that was so cheesy wasn’t it?” He brings a hand up to cover his face. I’m beyond stunned. I can’t even bring myself to move a muscle. I can’t even make my fingers so much as twitch. Spencer’s smile fades and his face is still covered by his hand. I start to realize he probably thinks he’s ruined this, just as I did a couple seconds ago.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever said something that kind about me.” Spencer moves his hand and meets my gaze. His face is just as red as mine feels. “Guys always tell me I’m hot or…Something along those lines. But no one has ever said something so…” I pause. “I don’t even have a word for it. I feel like I’m about to burst into tears like a fuckin’ idiot. That was the sweetest thing I have ever heard.” My eyes are watery as I stare up at him. He’s so different. Spencer’s smile returns and his eyes practically fucking sparkle.

“I’m surprised no one’s ever said something like that to you before. Were all the people you met blind perhaps?” I burst out in a fit of giggles. Spencer watches me laugh with the most dopey smile on his face.

“Apparently they might have been.” I laugh. I take a deep breath. “You know…How Penny described you wasn’t quite correct either.” His face falters.

“Am I better or worse than she described?”

“Better.” I respond without missing a beat. “So much better.” I sigh dreamily.

[criibibi]

Web Bound

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Next;

Prologue - A Whole New World

Who knew being in a world where heroes and villains became the part of one’s norm. Especially when one day, you get bitten by a radioactive spider and now have powers who in turn you use for the greater good. Of course not without trials and tribulations and what not, having to constantly prove oneself to others, helping grateful (and ungrateful) people, as well as making sure your civilian life doesn’t bleed into vigilantism, and keeping relationships stable. Though despite this stress inducing predicament, you made it work, for years.

You’ve gained and lost many things. You’re aunt and uncle for example. That shit hit real hard for you, left you rageful and bitter. Uncle Ben died because you let a criminal escape which in turn shot him. You wanted that murderer dead, and you got it (accidentally of course), it didn’t make the pain and loss any better. Honestly you only had yourself to blame. Aunt May became your anchor after your loss. Friends and relationships were thrown out the window. Your focus was more on your aunt and vigilantism. Then you lost aunt May.

This hit was just as bad as Uncle Ben’s death. Before you started at a high, discovering your powers, letting that ego hit sky high. That’s how you lost Ben. With May on the other hand, you lost her differently. This time you were too weak, too vulnerable, too naive, too sloppy. 

While trying to save others during an attack, she got in the crossfire. There was no coming back for you. You lost the two most important people in your life. All you had left was your mask, because with the final death of May, your civilian life died alongside her. 

Then you met Peter Parker. A cute nerd boy you saved once. How Peter came into your life is something you’re grateful for. When you saved him from an attack, he in turn started stalking you- er, your vigilant persona. And then he discovered who you were. He stuck by you through everything, and anything.

He never let your walls deter him. He slowly and painstakingly climbed those walls until you finally let him in. This cute nerd grounded you again. He patched up your wounds, took care of you when you couldn’t, he was your confidant, and eventually he became your best friend. You learned to let people in again, to trust.

Now it was no longer just Spider-woman. You had a civilian identity again. He was there for you when the going was tough. You see, Peter Parker is smart, way too smart, he had big dreams, he was definitely going places. But something about him made you stare at him just a little too long. Peter is a bright man, too bright. 

You see, Peter Parker was dealing with depression, and he (just like you) masked his feelings. You of course figured something was off about Peter, but never pushed it. You definitely regret it now. Peter’s flames were snuffed out too quickly. You also couldn't save him.

Losing Peter was the last straw. This life became unbearable. Uncle Ben, Aunt May, and even your best friend Peter Parker were all taken from you. You wonder how the darkness hasn't consumed you.

Uncle Ben taught you that with great power comes great responsibility. Aunt May taught you that your gift should save as many as you can. And Peter Parker taught you, to keep going, to just keep on moving. 

You may have lost a lot, but you gain many things. So you kept going, no longer losing yourself completely. 

Then a man named Miguel O’Hara, from Earth 928 paid you a visit. Offering you an opportunity of a lifetime. And you took it. Saving other universes from these things called ‘anomalies’. You felt like you had a purpose again, another drive to keep you moving forward. You met other wonderful spiderlings. Young ones, who needed guidance, one that you didn’t have years ago. 

So you became one for them, and in turn they taught you many things as well. These kids are bright, just like your Peter. You refuse to let the hurt- your hurt, hurt others.

Then the situation with the Spot occurred. Fighting him had proven to have been unfortunate, causing you to end up somewhere new. Somewhere far away from home. Checking your multiversal Gizmo watch for a semblance of your location only to find out it’s not turning on. Now you’re stuck, in a universe you have no knowledge of, and with a semi unresponsive watch.

“Where is this… Where am I?” you mumbled to yourself, slightly disheveled from the impact of you kissing the ground.

Standing in an unfamiliar environment, you look around to see anything that can help you, only to see gray skies, and a somewhat gloomy city. None of this rings any bells for you, no landscape to jog a memory, nothing.

You didn’t want to walk around aimlessly either, not with you still in your suit. Not until you can get a better understanding of where you are, you stick to the shadows, using rooftops to swing away. But in this polluted city, you can still hear the police sirens echo, and crime being committed causes your spider-senses to tingle. It doesn’t stop you from not helping though. 

Stopping on a roof you came across two muggers beating a poor civilian, looting him and running. They got about three steps before both were webbed up and dangling. Hopping down you helped the beaten up man get his stolen items back.

“Th-thank you.” He winced in pain.

“Think nothing of it, here,” handing the poor man his phone, you looked up at the two thugs dangling like an ornament. “I suggest getting treated. You look pretty bad. Also, make sure the men in blues get here, can’t leave these two dangling forever, ya know?” 

You watched the man limp away with his phone dialing 911 before turning your attention away. Climbing the walls you reached eye level of the thugs before yoinking their wallets and inspecting their IDs. You had half a mind to stay but then your spider sense tingle and you quickly swung back into the roof, leaving their IDs stuck to the web.

Just as you made it to the roof, flashing red and blue lights made it to the scene. A man steps out of his car, and the same hurt man you saved steps back into the alleyway, directing the policeman. 

“Here, this is where they are.”

One of them walks under the dangling men before he notices your figure. He tenses, hands on his gun as he watches your slow movements. You lower the men onto the ground carefully, watching as the policemen glance between you and the criminals. His eye catches the IDs stuck on the web before looking back up. You were gone.

Swinging away you came across a sign that stopped you almost mid swing. There in the sky of this gloomy but bright city, was a light shining its beam on the clouds. And on the clouds it had a symbol that caused your stomach to flip.

It was the batman symbol.

You were so fucked.

----------

Next ;

[monstersholygrail]

*cue me draped over a dining chair talking on a telephone while twirling the cord*

“RING RING ITS GARGOYLE HOURS BABY! I WANT A BIG OL’ STORY WITH A DND NERD GARGOYLE AND BANSHEE READER WHO NEEDS HIM CARNALLY AND IS VERY VOCAL!!”

*hangs up before you can respond*

-☎️

*proceeds to call you back over and over again but hang up just as you answer and then giggle like a schoolgirl*

WC: 1.8k

You had it bad. You were absolutely down bad and wrecked for the Gargoyle bartender you had met long ago at your usual bar. In fact, he was the only one you ever really bothered to talk there.

Not many people went looking to pick a Banshee up at a bar. I guess screaming in ecstasy was easily confused with screaming for their impending death. Was death not hot as fuck? You had no idea at this point.

But the Gargoyle bartender was the only one who ever really caught your eye anyway. It didn’t help that not only was he stunningly gorgeous, but he had an amazing personality too. He was a total nerd under all those chiseled stone muscles and frequently acted as the Dungeon Master in your groups DnD campaigns.

You frequently found yourself drifting off in thought, subtly staring at him during game nights or during nights like this. Thats what you were doing even now, stuck in your head thinking about him as you order drink after drink. You didn’t even realize how late it had gone and how much you had to drink.

Until you went to stand up and the world immediately spun. You wobbled, letting out a loud ‘woah’ into the almost empty bar. Luckily Gargoyle bartender was right there to help steady you. A husky chuckle falling past his lips.

“Let me drive you home. I don’t trust anyone else with you right now,” he said into your ear.

Your pussy gushes with arousal, clenching around nothing at his words alone. They send a thrill up your spine and your drink-infused mind leans into him a little too much. But he doesn’t hesitate to firmly hold onto your wide waist to keep you stable against him.

The ride back to your place is silent. Yet comfortable. You two have done a lot together. Battling monsters and going on all sorts of adventures. Through a game, true, but they last hours and go on for months. You trust him.

He helps you up to your apartment due to the fact that the moment he let you go outside of his car you nearly stumbled into the concrete. Walking into your apartment he moves around the space with ease. Having spent more than a handful of game nights here.

Setting you down on your couch he moves to get you some water to help flush the alcohol from your mind. He sits with you, the two of you talking and laughing for hours. Suddenly you’re back to where you were at the bar. Downing drinks and staring the beautiful Gargoyle. Only this time you don’t have to be subtle about it.

By the look in his eyes you could see he was waiting for something. It wasn’t until all the fog had cleared in your mind, your eyes had dried up, and you seemed to get your focus back that you knew what he was waiting for. As if a chain had finally broken, Gargoyle bartender swoops down and captures your lips in a heated kiss.

You inhale sharply, leaning into him immediately. Not believing this was happening. This was really happening. It was all that ran through your mind as the two of you stumbled into your bedroom, throwing your clothes off along the way.

Rolling onto the bed you sprawl out, spreading your thighs wide for him. The moonlight casting a brilliant glow on your glistening folds. The gargoyle growls at your enticing form. His hand curls around his hard aching cock, pumping himself slowly as he watches you clench around nothing.

“Touch yourself,” he snarls. “You don’t know how many nights I’ve spent imagining what you look like touching yourself.”

Your eyes widen and there’s nothing that could’ve stopped you in that moment from sliding your hand down your body. You moan softly as you dip your fingers into your folds, spreading them and showing him all of you. He growls again and you shiver in anticipation, your need for him unbearable.

He slowly works his cock to the sight of you teasing and exploring your cunt as if it’s the first time you’ve ever touched yourself. It has his every nerve on edge. All while your body is shaking, your fingers dripping into your soaked pussy and imagining it’s his thick cock. But god, you know your fingers can’t even compare.

You don’t know how long the two of you go on. Edging yourselves, slowly bringing your bodies to the edge of release. Merely from the sight of watching each other use your hands to bring you to release. You rock into your fingers, body shaking, the tension in the air only making you want his cock that much more.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he says through panting breaths. Your head snaps up to meet his eye and you cry out, a mix of pain and pleasure coursing through you. “Not like this. I want every moment of our first time together burned into your memory.”

“I’m not gonna forget this,” you moan, fucking your fingers even harder.

He laughs, the loud deep and raspy. His hand picks up to match with your pace and he moans, throwing his head back. Only then does he see the rising sun. His eyes widen in alarm.

“F-fuck!”

What you thought was a noise of pleasure has your body going over the edge. Your hips jerk into your hand and you moan loudly as your orgasm crashes through you. Your eyes closing in ecstasy. Gargoyle bartender watches you come undone. He grunts, about to cum himself when suddenly he can’t move.

A second later his body turns to stone, the sunlight pours through the windows and illuminates his strong features. As you come down from your release your eyes flutter open and you immediately gasp to see your Gargoyle a frozen statue standing at the end of your bed.

You knew gargoyles turned to statues in the sun. Your game nights were always exactly that. At night. He worked the night shift at the bar. But you had no idea his stone state looked like this. You didn’t exactly know what to do. You assume there is nothing you can do until the sun sets.

But in the meantime… he’s stuck exactly where he is. Frozen on the edge of a climax. You also know that gargoyles can see feel, hear, and see everything around them while in their stone state.

Oh, you could have fun with this.

You spend the entire day relentlessly torturing him. After you come up with your plan, you head off to take a shower. Not bothering to hide your plush form from his frozen eyes with a towel as you leave your room naked and come back naked.

Given that it was the weekend and you had nowhere to be, you didn’t see the point in wearing clothes at all.

Sometimes during the way you’d watch by, brush your hands along his skin. Every inch you thought might be sensitive. Even his frozen hard cock. But you only bother with lingering touches that were sure to drive him mad.

The day passes by quickly as you come up with way after way of teasing the Gargoyle.

Eventually you come up with the bright idea to put on some spicy entertainment on the tv. That way you can not only tease him with yourself, but with those in the videos as well. Your selection has more than the desired affect as you begin to squirm on your bed, moaning softly. Your hands going back to where they were this morning.

You get lost in the moment, so focused on your own pleasure that you forget everything else. The gargoyle at the end of your bed for one thing. But especially the setting sun.

The first thing the Gargoyle can smell is your arousal. The last thing he had smelt before turning to stone welcomes him back as he returns to flesh. It perfumes the air and riddles his mind with blinding lust. His hand flies off his cock, not wanting to waste his seed on touching himself. Not when you’ve been so naughty all day.

You hear a low growl pierce the air and you freeze. The people on the television long forgotten. You barely have time to look to the end of your bed as he’s pouncing on top of you. All you see is a blur and the next thing you feel is his thick leaking tip making a mess of your folds.

“Was it worth it?” He snarls, meeting your wide eyes. You know you’re in some serious danger but you prepare yourself to get the best fuck of your life.

“Yes,” you don’t hesitate to say.

“No fucking remorse?”

With another growl he slams his cock inside you. Both of you release fierce screams into the air. He doesn’t give you a moment to breathe. It’s only fair after what you’ve been doing to him all day and you welcome it. Writhing and moaning on his cock. Desperately trying to buck up into his furious thrusts.

Gargoyle swears he sees red as he pounds his cock inside you. The sound of your joining echoing off the walls and overpowering the video still running on the tv.

His claws sink into your curvy hips and you arch into him, wanting everything he’ll give you. He brings you down on his massive length even harder, wanting to tease you as much as you’ve been teasing him all day.

And he just does that with the skillful way his dick glides along your wet gummy walls. Keeping you right on the edge just as you had done to him. He leans over you, surrounding you completely and you happily let yourself be consumed.

With this new angle he shifts his hips, grinding his pelvis roughly against your clit. The unique texture of his stone-like skin has your body buzzing and tingly. You let go almost immediately and he makes you cum so hard you can’t hold in your banshee scream as you clench down hard around his length.

The Gargoyle grunts as you squeeze his cock, milking it for all its worth. You’re so perfect, so tight around him. He can’t possibly hold back for another second. He throws his head back, letting out a roar that rivals your scream as he cums deep inside you.

Spurt after spurt it seems never ending. An entire day worth of being pent up spills inside of you. Your body trembles with the aftershocks as you feel him fill you up, keeping your body stuffed full of him.

You sigh in relief, a sense of contentment coursing through you. You had been waiting all day for this too. And it was even better than you imagined. But as you look up at the Gargoyle, catching his heated predatory gaze, you know the night is long from over.

And he doesn’t plan on stopping until the sun comes up.