#i just turned in my final paper for this class and i feel kinda bad bc its Very Not Good

[spohkh]

heh >:)

[bueckets]

Office Hours

Pairing: student-athlete!Paige x tutor!reader

Genre: enemies to flirting to losing your mind, paige is a little shit, slow burn but not really, tension so thick it’s basically a third character, paige is failing bio and somehow it’s your problem, cocky athlete x academically unhinged girl, tutoring sessions turned emotional warfare, dirty shirley temples, smut incoming

Description: Paige Bueckers is failing biology, and you're the unlucky tutor assigned to drag her out of academic disaster. What should be a simple arrangement becomes anything but, thanks to her complete lack of focus, relentless flirtation, and the infuriating way she manages to get under your skin—and into your head.

Between chaotic study sessions, surprise bar encounters, and more sexual tension than should legally exist between two people trying to discuss mitochondria, it’s clear that the real test isn’t the midterm. It’s whether you can make it through the semester without either making out with her—or killing her.

One thing’s for sure: Paige isn’t the only one getting schooled.

WC: 9.6k (and growing)

Notes: im back?

The library is way too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes your own breathing sound deafening, where every shuffle of paper or tap of a pen echoes like a gunshot. It’s the kind of silence that should be perfect for studying. Should be.

Except Paige Bueckers is sitting across from you, and Paige Bueckers doesn’t give a single shit about studying.

Instead, she’s leaned back in her chair like she’s lounging courtside instead of being one bad test score away from academic probation. She’s got her long legs stretched out beneath the table, sneakers tapping lazily against the floor. Her hoodie—way too oversized for someone whose entire existence is dedicated to agility and precision—is slouching off one shoulder, and she’s twirling a pen between her fingers like she’s dribbling down the court with a shot clock winding down. The sleeves are bunched up just enough to show her forearms, strong and lined with faint muscle from years of training, but the only thing working right now is her mouth.

Grinning. Smirking. Teasing. Doing everything but reading the goddamn textbook in front of her.

“Alright, Paige,” you sigh, pushing your notes toward her for what has to be the third time. “We need to focus. You will fail this class if you don’t start studying.”

Paige doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t move an inch beyond a lazy stretch that makes her hoodie ride up just slightly, flashing the waistband of her shorts. Her smirk deepens like she can feel you noticing.

“Yeah,” she drawls, tilting her head, “but then I’d have to take it again next semester. Which means more quality time with my favorite tutor.”

You stare at her. She stares back. The kind of look that feels like a staredown before tip-off except way less athletic and way more are you seriously this insufferable?

She holds the eye contact, easy as anything, while you struggle to remind yourself that she is only your student, not a professional flirt sent to ruin your life. Her eyes gleam in the dim library lighting, playful and sharp at the same time. Her lashes are unfairly long, brushing against her cheeks when she finally blinks.

Your heart rate picks up. Not from that. From the academic crisis happening right now. Obviously.

“You’re not failing on purpose, right?” You narrow your eyes suspiciously.

Paige tilts her head, pretending to ponder, lips pursing slightly. “Hmm. No, but if I did, would that be kinda cute?”

You groan dramatically, dragging a hand down your face. “I am this close to committing academic misconduct and just taking the test for you.”

Paige gasps. Actually gasps, pressing a hand to her chest in faux offense. “Wow. I knew med school was intense, but I didn’t realize you were out here ready to commit federal crimes for me.”

“That’s it,” you announce, pushing back from the table. “I’m done. I quit. Find someone else to teach you about mitochondria.”

You barely make it an inch before Paige reaches across the table and hooks two fingers around your wrist, tugging you back down like you weigh nothing. Her grip is firm, all strength and control—like she’s grabbing a rebound, like she’s got her hands on the game ball in overtime. Your pulse jumps again, this time definitely because of that.

Her fingers linger for a second longer than necessary before she releases you. But she’s still watching you, expression softening just slightly around the edges. “C’mon, stay,” she says, voice lower now, like a secret. “I promise I’ll actually pay attention this time.”

You cross your arms. “Oh? And what changed?”

She leans forward this time, elbows on the table, chin propped on one hand. The lighting catches the sharp angles of her cheekbones, the curve of her jaw. She’s smiling, but it’s something different now—something slower. 

“Figured out that if I fail,” she murmurs, eyes locked on yours, “I won’t have an excuse to see you anymore.”

Your brain does a full system reboot. Error. What the fuck did she just say?

“Wh—Paige.”

She just winks, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip for half a second before her grin spreads, slow and satisfied. “What? That was cute, right?”

You grab your pen and point it at her accusingly. “You are so goddamn lucky you’re good at basketball, because if you had to rely on your brain—”

“I’d still get by,” she interrupts smoothly, shooting finger guns at you. “People tend to go easy on the charming ones.”

Your mouth actually falls open. Not on purpose—just an involuntary reaction to the sheer, unbelievable audacity of this girl. She’s failing biology, hasn’t written down a single note, and still has the goddamn nerve of a mathlete coasting through an easy A.

You snap your jaw shut, you refuse to let her see how flustered you are. You refuse. “Okay, charming one, then explain the process of cellular respiration.”

Paige squints, lips pressing together as she sucks in a breath through her teeth, nose scrunching like she’s really trying to make something shake in that head of hers. “Uh… it’s when cells… respire?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, inhaling slowly through your teeth. “We are so, so fucking doomed.”

She just laughs, kicking her feet out beneath the table, accidentally knocking her knee against yours. “Relax,” she says, her grin widening. “You love tutoring me.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah,” she nods, completely sure of herself. “You totally have a little crush on me.”

You let out a dry, incredulous laugh—one of those sharp, breathy ones, all eyebrows raised and head bobbing. “Yeah, sure.”

She shrugs, tapping a finger against the open page of her biology textbook like she might actually start paying attention. Then, without looking up—

“Nah, I know.”

You blink. Paige blinks back.

The air between you tightens like a taut shoelace, pulling, pulling—dangerously close to snapping. You could be the bigger person here. You could roll your eyes, let it go, return to the noble pursuit of keeping Paige Bueckers from academically imploding.

But something about the way she’s looking at you—too smug, too sure—strikes a competitive nerve in you. And you’re not about to lose anything to her. Not a game, not a staredown, and sure as hell not a battle of wits.

So you shift in your chair, tilting your head, letting your lips curl just slightly. “Oh, you know?”

Paige leans back again, arms crossed, shoulders loose. She’s cocky, sure, but there’s something anticipatory in her gaze—like she knows you’re about to challenge her and she’s thrilled about it.

“Mhm.” She nods, casual as ever. “Crystal clear.”

You hum, feigning thoughtfulness, tapping a finger against the open textbook. “Wow. Must be nice. I thought you struggled with retention, but here you are, remembering things that have literally never been said.”

She gasps. “Rude.”

“You’ll get over it,” you deadpan.

Paige, of course, does not let it go. She tips her chin up, meeting your gaze with something wicked and playful tangled in the blue of her eyes. “Okay, fine. You don’t have a little crush on me.”

You exhale, relieved.

“But you definitely think about me when I’m not around.”

Your breath catches. Paige sees it. Her grin stretches wider, knowing, smug.

Oh, you are not letting her have this.

You scoff, shifting back in your chair, fighting the warmth creeping up your spine. “Paige, you are in my life solely because you can’t pass basic biology. I think about you in the same way people think about a fire alarm that won’t stop beeping.”

“Ah, so constantly?”

You scowl. She beams.

“That’s fair,” Paige shrugs, stretching her arms over her head, and the movement makes her hoodie ride up again, flashing a sliver of tanned stomach. “I am pretty unforgettable. Even when I’m annoying.”

“Especially when you’re annoying,” you mutter.

Paige smirks, but then, as if sensing your growing frustration, she sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes and dragging her textbook closer. “Alright, fine. I’ll study.”

You narrow your eyes. “For real?”

She winks. “Scout’s honor.”

“Paige, you were never a scout.”

“Prove it.”

You sigh but relent, watching as she flips open the book and actually—miraculously—starts reading the page in front of her. You take a sip of your now-cold coffee, reveling in the small victory.

For a blissful forty-five seconds, Paige is silent. Then—

“So, like,” she starts, “mitochondria. That’s the powerhouse of the cell, right?”

You pause. Blink. Lower your coffee. “Yes?”

Paige throws her hands in the air. “Let’s gooo. I’m a genius.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Paige, you have three weeks until your exam. We need to cover way more than that.”

“Okay, okay,” she soothes, putting her hands up in surrender. “Next question.”

You flip to another page, glancing up briefly to make sure she’s paying attention.

She’s not. She’s looking at you.

You pause, caught off guard by the way she’s watching you—not with teasing amusement or lazy smugness, but with something softer. Warmer. Curious.

“Paige,” you warn, shifting uncomfortably.

She blinks, then grins again, but there’s something slightly less sharp about it now. “Nothing, nothing,” she mutters, shaking her head, flipping a page in her book. “Just thinking.”

You hesitate, unsure if you want to ask, what about? But you don’t.

Instead, you clear your throat, turning your attention back to the book. “Okay. Explain the process of osmosis.”

Paige tilts her head dramatically. “Is that, like, when you just chill through life and things come to you naturally?”

“Oh my god, no,” you deadpan.

She grins. “Damn. Thought I was onto something.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “We are so fucked.”

Paige just laughs, bright and easy. “Nah. You’d never let me fail.”

She says it like it’s a fact. Like she knows, without a doubt, that you’d never let hers fall behind. And the worst part is she’s most definitely right.

She twirls her pen between her fingers, spinning it effortlessly like a basketball rolling off the tips of her hands. It’s hypnotizing, actually—the smooth rotations, the lazy way her fingers flick with just enough control to keep it from dropping. She’s been doing this for the last ten minutes, and not once has she even pretended to read the page in front of her.

Meanwhile, you’re hunched over your notes, taking deep, steadying breaths. You tell yourself you won’t let her test your patience today. You won’t get dragged into her game. You won’t—

“Paige,” you say, voice strained.

“Hm?” she replies, still flipping her pen effortlessly.

“Please read.”

Paige hums noncommittally. Turns a page without reading it. You inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth. “Paige.”

She finally looks up, resting her chin on her palm, eyes bright with amusement. “What? I’m absorbing information. Through osmosis.”

You close your eyes, count to three. Consider what your life would be like if you had literally any other tutoring assignment.

“You are so lucky you’re athletic,” you mutter, flipping the page back to where she was actually supposed to start reading. “C’mon. Photosynthesis. What do you know?”

Paige stretches her arms behind her head, her hoodie riding up slightly—distractingly—before she drops back down with a smirk, looking at you like she’s about to deliver the most groundbreaking scientific revelation of all time.

“Plants… make food?”

Your eyelid twitches.

“Correct,” you deadpan. “And they do that through—”

“The power of love,” Paige interrupts, placing a hand over her chest. “And sunlight.”

You grip the edge of the table. Consider flipping it over. “Yes. Because that’s what biology is. Disney magic and good vibes.”

Paige grins. “Exactly.”

You open your mouth—probably to unleash a scathing lecture about the sanctity of science—when a shadow hovers at the edge of the table. You glance up—because you always have to glance up when people stop by your study sessions with Paige—and find a girl, probably a freshman, clutching her phone like it’s a sacred artifact.

She shifts on her feet, looking like she’s debating whether she should even speak to Paige. You can already see where this is going.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” the girl says, eyes darting between you and Paige, before ultimately landing—unsurprisingly—on Paige. “Could I, um, get a picture? If that’s okay?”

Paige doesn’t miss a beat. She shifts effortlessly from Slacker Paige to Cool Superstar Paige, flashing an easy grin as she leans back in her chair like she expected this. Like this is as common as someone asking her to pass the salt at dinner.

“Of course,” she says, voice warm, inviting, polished. She stands smoothly, rolling her shoulders back, exuding that same relaxed confidence she has right before sinking a step-back three.

You, meanwhile, remain seated, taking a slow sip of your coffee, already resigned to your fate as Paige Bueckers’ unofficial designated library bodyguard.

It’s routine at this point. The public adoration, the excited stammering, the sheepish thank you so much before they rush off like they just met royalty. And then Paige slides back into her chair, knocking her knee against yours like she doesn’t have an entire fan club scattered across campus.

“Where were we?” she asks casually, flipping her pen again.

You don’t even blink. “You were pretending to study, and I was contemplating my life choices.”

Paige snorts. But before she can respond, another person approaches. You glance up again, already prepared, already so tired. This time, it’s a guy—tall, student-athlete vibes, definitely not looking at you.

“Hey, sorry,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly nervous despite the fact that Paige is already smiling at him like they’re old friends. “Could I get a picture real quick?”

Paige grins. “Yeah, of course.”

You take another sip of your coffee. Stare blankly into the abyss. Same process. Paige stands, poses, flashes her million-dollar smile. The guy stammers out a thanks and hurries off.

You exhale. Set your coffee down. “You done?”

Paige barely has time to smirk before two more people shuffle up, practically vibrating with excitement. She notices your unimpressed expression and loses it, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “Okay, now it’s funny,” she murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Now it’s funny?” you echo flatly.

She grins. “Yeah. You look miserable.”

You scowl. Paige beams. Another five minutes pass before the final wave of admirers disperse, and Paige—finally—sinks back into her chair, looking far too pleased with herself.

“I should start charging,” she jokes.

You arch a brow. “Should I start charging? I’m the one sitting here like an unpaid security detail.”

Paige grins, drumming her fingers against the table. “You could be my manager, you know. We’d be an iconic duo.”

You scoff. “We’re not even an iconic study group.”

“Yet,” she corrects.

You roll your eyes but, reluctantly, glance at the time. The session should go another thirty minutes, but between Paige’s inability to focus and her impromptu meet-and-greet, you’re pretty much out of patience.

“Fine,” you sigh, shutting your book. “We’ll pick this up next time.”

Paige fist-pumps like she just nailed a game-winner. “Let’s go.”

You raise a hand. “But—”

Paige groans.

“You actually have to study next time,” you warn, pointing a finger at her like a parent scolding a child. “No excuses. No distractions. No impromptu fan club meetings.”

Paige nods solemnly. “Of course. One hundred percent. Fully locked in.”

You squint at her. “You’re lying to my face.”

She grins. “Yeah. But I did it really well.”

You let out a slow breath, collecting your things, already knowing that next time will be just as chaotic. But, somehow, you don’t hate the idea.

You barely make it two steps out of the library before Paige falls into step beside you, hands tucked into the front pocket of her hoodie, head tilted toward you like she’s waiting for something. You don’t say anything. Neither does she. But she’s still there, walking at your exact pace, still spinning that damn pen between her fingers like she’s making it her personal mission to erode the last of your patience.

After half a block of this nonsense, you finally huff. “Why are you still here?”

Paige smirks, eyes twinkling. “Wow. I thought we were friends, and you hit me with why are you still here? I think I need to sit down. That was devastating.”

You resist the urge to shove her into a trash can. “You should sit down. With a biology textbook.”

“That,” she sighs dramatically, “sounds like a you problem.”

You groan, but the corners of your lips twitch—just slightly. She glances at you again, side-eyeing, like she’s waiting for you to say something else. You don’t. So, instead, she nudges your arm with her elbow. “You heading back to your dorm?”

“Yep,” you say, adjusting the strap of your bag. “Where some people go to actually study.”

Paige grins. “Fun. I was gonna hit the gym.”

You pretend to be shocked. “No way. The gym? You? Unheard of.”

She chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. Crazy concept. Gotta keep these knees in top shape so I can keep playing dumb for you in the library.”

You roll your eyes, but your lips do twitch again. When you reach the intersection where you usually part ways, Paige hesitates—just slightly. Her foot taps against the pavement, and she glances at you, like there’s something she wants to say but doesn’t.

But then the crosswalk light changes, and she just flashes her usual grin. “Alright, I’ll see you next time. Can’t wait to waste more of your valuable time.”

You shake your head, already walking away. “You are a waste of my valuable time.”

Paige calls after you, voice dripping with smug amusement. “Admit it! You’d be bored as hell without me!” You don’t respond. Maybe, just maybe, she has a point.

You barely manage to kick the door shut behind you before dropping your bag to the floor, the weight of the entire goddamn week peeling off your shoulders like an old sticker. Your body feels wrecked—like you just played all four quarters of a game you weren’t even supposed to be in. Midterms, tutoring, the endless cycle of pretending you have your shit together when in reality, you’re two missed assignments away from a full-on breakdown.

Your roommate’s bed is empty, the perfectly made sheets an immediate giveaway that she’s already at her boyfriend’s place for the night. Which means the dorm is yours. Finally. A rare and precious occurrence, like a solar eclipse or a professor canceling class with a two-minute email. You grab your laptop from the desk, already knowing exactly how you’re gonna spend the next five hours: Desperate Housewives. Your guilty pleasure. Your lifeline. Your emotional support chaotic suburban drama. You settle onto your bed, wrapping yourself in a blanket cocoon, cracking your knuckles in preparation for an evening of zero responsibilities—when your phone rings.

You groan dramatically, not even bothering to check the screen before answering. “No.”

There’s a pause, then Jordan’s voice comes through, unimpressed. “Bitch, you don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“Yes, I do,” you sigh, rolling onto your back. “And the answer is no.”

“You’re being difficult,” she complains. “Come out with me.”

“No.”

“C’mon. It’s Friday night. You have no excuses.”

“I have the best excuse. I’m too fucking tired.”

Jordan makes an exaggerated scoffing noise. “Tired from what? Sitting across from your little basketball girlfriend and watching her pretend she doesn’t know how to read?”

You freeze. “She’s not my—”

“Uh-huh.”

You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Jordan.”

“[Redacted],” she mimics in a deep, mocking tone. “Come out. I’ll buy your first drink.”

“You say that like you’re doing me a favor. It’s literally one drink.”

“Okay, and? You’re broke.”

She’s got you there.

“I have plans,” you try again.

“What plans? Watching white women commit crimes in wedge heels?”

You frown. “That’s oddly specific.”

“Because I know you.”

You press your lips together, because yeah. She does.

Jordan senses weakness and pounces. “You never go out anymore,” she whines. “It’s tragic. I’m watching my best friend turn into a sad little academic goblin. When’s the last time you flirted with someone for fun?”

“I—” You pause. And that’s enough for Jordan.

“Oh my god.”

“I don’t need to flirt with random people, Jordan,” you argue.

“Okay, then come to keep me company. Emily’s bringing her crypto bro boyfriend and I need a buffer. You owe me.”

“For what?”

“For being my best friend, dumbass.”

You let out a long, slow exhale. Your bed is so soft. Your show is right there. Your roommate isn’t gonna be back till morning, which means you could fall asleep watching hot moms commit felony-level fraud and no one would judge you. But Jordan is relentless. And also, maybe, just maybe, she’s right.

“Ugh, okay, fine, one drink,” you say finally.

She screeches. “I’LL BE THERE IN TWENTY.”

“Wait, what the— twenty?!”

“You don’t get time to back out, babe. Love you! Bye!”

The call disconnects. You stare at your ceiling for a long moment before groaning into your pillow. Guess you’re going out. You sit on the edge of your bed, staring at your closet like it personally wronged you.

Twenty minutes. Less than that now. Jordan is on time when it comes to dragging you out of your self-imposed hibernation, so you don’t have the luxury of procrastinating. You run a hand through your hair, sighing as you debate your options.

Jeans? Safe. A dress? Too much effort. Skirt? Trying too hard. 

You pull open a drawer, fingers brushing over the usual suspects: black tank, oversized tee, hoodie. The same exact shit you wear every day. You tug at the hem of your pajama shirt instead, already debating if you could get away with staying in. Jordan would literally break into your dorm if she had to.

You settle on something in the middle—black jeans that just hug your waist enough to be flattering without suffocating you, a tight long-sleeve that makes your arms look good, and sneakers. Cute but low effort.

Your reflection stares back at you from the mirror above your desk, and your mind does that thing. That thing where you start thinking in spirals, words layering on top of each other like a too-thick coat of paint. Jordan always looks good when you go out. The hot friend, effortlessly wanted. Guys slip her their numbers, girls compliment her makeup, and you? You’re there. Background noise. The best friend, the safe choice, the one people never approach first.

Your hands move on autopilot, pulling your hair into something presentable, smoothing out wrinkles in your shirt. Your brain moves just as fast, thoughts piling up. When’s the last time someone wanted you? Really, genuinely wanted you?

Not for help on an assignment. Not for a favor. Not as a buffer against some awkward third wheel situation. Your fingers tighten around the mascara wand as you swipe it over your lashes, the thought hitting heavier than it should.

And then there’s her. Paige. Paige, who everyone wants. Paige, whose name alone makes people light up, whose smile makes the world lean in closer. Paige, who has the kind of effortless pull that shouldn’t be real, the kind that isn’t real, except it is—because it’s her.

You imagine what it must be like. To be wanted by everyone. To have people go out of their way just to see you. To be loved by an entire fucking world that doesn’t even know you. To have that kind of pull. You shake your head, dabbing concealer under your eyes, fixing nothing. Paige doesn’t have to think about this. About being ignored. About whether or not someone is really interested or if they just need her for something else. Paige is easy to love.

Your hands are steady as you apply lip gloss, but your thoughts aren’t. Because you know what’s worse? Worse than not being wanted? Feeling like you could be—if only you were someone else. A sharp knock-knock-knock at your door makes you jump, snapping you out of whatever existential spiral you were just sinking into.

You check the time. 7:59. Jordan, always on time when it comes to dragging your ass out of the house.

“Bitch, open up,” she calls through the door, impatience already seeping through her voice. “I know you’re in there, don’t make me break in.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing your phone off the bed before opening the door. Jordan doesn’t even wait for an invitation. She just steps in like she owns the place, eyes immediately scanning you up and down.

“Oh, thank god,” she exhales dramatically, throwing herself onto your bed like she just finished a marathon. “For a second, I was scared you were gonna pull some bullshit and answer in sweats.”

“I was considering it.”

“And I would’ve dragged you outside as is.”

She props herself up on her elbows, eyes narrowing slightly. “You look good, though. Like, sexy but nonchalant. Very ‘I don’t try but I still eat men alive.’”

You snort, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull your sneakers on. “That’s exactly what I was going for.”

Jordan flips onto her back, legs kicking lazily. “Hot girl vibes activated. I’m proud.”

You ignore the way that your brain still insists on running her words through some dumb internal filter. Hot but? Sexy but? There’s always a but. Still, you appreciate the compliment.

Jordan rolls onto her side, propping her head up with her hand. “Okay, so what’s our game plan?”

You raise a brow. “Game plan?”

She grins. “Are we flirting for fun tonight? Making out with strangers? Taking free drinks and saying thanks but no thanks?”

You scoff, standing to grab your jacket. “You’re doing all of that. I’m drinking one drink, pretending I enjoy being in public, and then leaving.”

Jordan makes a dramatic gagging noise. “You’re so lame, it physically hurts me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You throw on your jacket, checking yourself one last time in the mirror before turning back to her. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Jordan squints. “You know, for someone who never goes out, you could at least try to fake some excitement.”

You sigh, grabbing your phone. “Fine.” You flash her your most half-assed smile. “Yay. Alcohol.”

Jordan stares at you for a long beat. Then she cackles.

“I hate you,” she wheezes, hopping off the bed and slinging an arm around your shoulders. “C’mon, grumpy girl. Let’s get you drunk.”

You let her steer you out the door, already bracing for whatever the night has in store.

The bar hums with low conversation, the steady pulse of bass from the speakers vibrating against your ribs. The air is thick—spilled beer, cheap whiskey, the faintest trace of cologne as someone brushes past you. It’s crowded, bodies pressing in too close, the kind of warmth that clings to your skin, dampens the edges of your sleeves.

You plant your elbows on the bar, exhaling slow. Jordan’s already disappeared into the crowd, her voice lilting somewhere behind you, laughing too loud at something she probably doesn’t even find funny. You don’t bother looking back. You just need a drink, something cold in your hand, something to make this whole night feel less like a mistake.

The bartender moves in front of you, nodding once in acknowledgment, and you order—automatic, easy, something you don’t have to think about. While you wait, you glance around, taking in the room.

It’s packed, but that’s expected. The usual Friday night chaos—people gathered in clusters, leaning into one another to be heard over the music. A group near the dartboard erupts in laughter, a guy raises his arms in exaggerated victory, another flips him off good-naturedly. At the other end of the bar, a girl tugs her friend closer, whispering something into her ear, their giggles swallowed by the noise.

And then— a flash of blue. You don’t think anything of it at first. Just a hoodie, nothing more. But then there’s another. And another. A guy walks past, a UConn logo stretched across his chest, the lettering cracked and faded from too many washes. At a nearby table, someone’s peeling the label off their beer bottle, the cuff of their UConn crewneck pushed up to their elbows. A girl at the bar turns her head, revealing the unmistakable emblem stitched into the side of her cap.

Your drink lands in front of you with a soft clink. You reach for it, fingers curling around the condensation-slicked glass, but your eyes are still moving, scanning. Near the pool table, someone slams a cue stick down, shaking their head. “Bro, that was insane.”

“I told you,” another guy laughs, taking a swig of his beer. “They were fucking unstoppable.”

A bartender walks by carrying a tray of shots, and someone calls out, voice sharp with excitement—

“To the Huskies!”

A cheer rises, loud and immediate, glasses raised, grins splitting across faces. Your fingers tighten around your drink. Another voice cuts through—closer, rough around the edges like it’s been shouting for hours. “Bueckers was on fire.”

Your stomach tenses. A television flickers in your periphery, mounted above the bar, the broadcast running highlights on a loop. A flash of white jerseys, a blur of movement, the unmistakable arc of a three-pointer sinking clean through the net.

Your gaze catches on the name emblazoned across the back.

BUECKERS. 5.

Your drink sits untouched in your hand. A hand lands on your shoulder, nails cool against your skin. Jordan’s voice cuts through the hum of conversation, bright, energized.

“There you are,” she says, leaning in so you can hear her. Her breath is warm against your ear, smelling faintly of whatever sugary drink she got roped into first. “Why do you always ditch me the second we get here?”

You lift your glass, taking a slow sip before responding. “I didn’t ditch you. You ran off.”

Jordan grins, squeezing your shoulder before letting go. “Details.”

She slides onto the stool beside you, propping her elbows on the bar, the sheer confidence in her posture making it clear that she’s already in her element. You can tell from the way her shoulders are loose, from the easy way she scans the room—she’s here to enjoy herself. She tugs at the collar of her cropped tank, a calculated movement, and you don’t miss the way a pair of eyes flicker toward her from across the bar.

Of course. It never takes long. The girl is pretty—high cheekbones, sharp jaw, hair spilling in soft waves over her shoulders. She’s nursing a drink in one hand, the other tracing idle patterns into the wood of the bar. She’s been looking, you realize. Long enough for it to mean something. Long enough for it to be deliberate.

And Jordan? She notices. She always notices. You watch as she tilts her head slightly, lips curling at the edges, all slow-building amusement. Not an invitation. Not yet. Just an acknowledgment. I see you seeing me. And just like that, the girl moves.

She slides closer, just one seat between her and Jordan now, her presence a hum of subtle perfume and confidence. You feel the shift immediately, the way the space around them tightens, charged with something unspoken. You take another sip of your drink, eyes flicking between them. Jordan doesn’t look over right away. She lets it build, that delicious tension she thrives on, makes the girl wait for it. And when she finally turns her head—slow, purposeful—it’s a hook.

“Hey,” the girl says, voice smooth, honeyed.

Jordan’s lips part slightly, amused. “Hey yourself.”

There it is. The shift, the moment the conversation has already decided what it’s going to be. The girl twirls the stem of her glass between two fingers, considering. “You’re a little hard to miss.”

Jordan lifts a brow. “Yeah?”

The girl nods, a smile playing at her lips. “Saw you the second I walked in.”

You huff a quiet laugh into your drink. Jordan flicks you a glance, but she doesn’t look away for long. She’s locked in now, her full attention settling on the girl beside her.

“That so?” she murmurs.

The girl leans forward slightly, just enough that Jordan can smell whatever floral-citrus perfume she’s wearing. “Mhm.”

Jordan takes her time responding, letting the moment stretch, her fingers tapping lazily against the bar. “And what’d you think?”

The girl laughs, low and knowing. “I think I liked it.”

Jesus. You shake your head, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. This is Jordan’s playground, and she’s barely even started. Before she can respond, a familiar voice cuts in.

“There you are, finally.”

Emily. And, by default, her crypto bro. You turn just in time to see her sliding in beside you, her expression teetering between fond exasperation and mild relief, like she was worried you wouldn’t actually show. Her boyfriend—god, what’s his name again?—is hovering a step behind her, already half into whatever overpriced IPA he’s nursing.

“Thought you were gonna bail,” Emily says, bumping your arm.

You shake your head. “Almost did.”

She laughs. “Would’ve sent Jordan to physically drag you out of bed.”

“She already threatened to.”

Jordan, not even looking at you, raises a hand and flicks her wrist. “And I would’ve done it with love.”

Emily grins before turning to Jordan, about to say something else—until she sees the girl. And immediately, her expression shifts.

“Oh,” she says, blinking once. Then, lips curving slightly, she leans in, dropping her voice just enough for you to hear. “She’s hot.”

Jordan doesn’t turn her head, but her smirk deepens. “I know.”

The girl doesn’t flinch, unfazed by the blatant cockiness, the sheer Jordan-ness of it all. If anything, she looks more intrigued.

“God, you’re unbearable,” Emily mutters, sipping her drink.

Jordan, at this point, is fully ignoring all of you. She’s gone, deep in the slow back-and-forth of a conversation that’s teetering right on the edge of something. You watch, mildly entertained, as the girl tucks her hair behind her ear, as Jordan lets her gaze flick lower, just for a moment, before meeting her eyes again.

Classic. You’re about to tune them out entirely, return your focus to the drink in your hand, when—

The door swings open.

And just like that, the energy shifts. You don’t see them at first. You feel them. A ripple through the crowd, a flicker of awareness in the way people turn their heads, in the subtle glances exchanged between strangers. The volume dips for half a second—not silence, just a shift, a momentary lapse before everything surges back up again.

Your eyes track toward the entrance—toward the new arrivals pushing through the threshold, stepping into the bar with the ease of people who know they’ll be noticed. White sneakers. Loose sweatpants. Jackets slung over shoulders. And that unmistakable color.

UConn blue.

Jordan is still locked in, her conversation with the pretty girl unfolding in the slow, deliberate way that only happens when both people know exactly what they’re doing. It’s all prolonged eye contact, subtle shifts in body language, the kind of flirting that exists in the pauses as much as in the words. Emily is barely paying attention, absorbed in some argument with her boyfriend about blockchain or whatever the hell it is he does. You’ve stopped listening.

Which means you’re just… there. Third-wheeling at a bar, drink half-finished, barely contributing to the conversation. The worst part is, no one even notices. Jordan, obviously, is in her own world, and Emily is too preoccupied with rolling her eyes at her boyfriend to remember you exist. You take another sip of your drink, letting your eyes wander.

The UConn girls have spread through the bar now, weaving into the crowd like they belong there. You recognize a few faces—players you’ve seen on highlight reels, names you don’t know but should. There’s a looseness to them, an ease, the kind of relaxation that only comes after a win.

You wonder, absently, if Paige is here. Not that it matters. The thought makes you shift slightly, pushing down something vague and uncomfortable. You finish off the last sip of your drink and set the glass down a little too hard, the soft clink barely audible over the noise.

“I need to piss,” you mutter, mostly to no one.

Jordan doesn’t react, too busy letting the girl touch her arm in that slow, lingering way that means she’s definitely coming home with her later. Emily gives a halfhearted wave, her focus still locked on her boyfriend, who is currently explaining something with way too much hand movement.

You slip into the crowd, navigating the maze of bodies with the kind of single-minded determination usually reserved for final exams and finding your phone when it’s on silent. The bass from the speakers vibrates through the floor, thrumming up through your sneakers, settling somewhere in your chest. Every step feels like walking through molasses—people shifting, swaying, arms brushing against yours in that careless way that comes with alcohol and too many bodies packed into one space.

You make it to the hallway leading to the bathrooms and nearly sigh in relief. It’s quieter here—not quiet, but enough that you can hear yourself think. The walls are still pulsing faintly with the music, the distant echo of a chorus threading through the air, but it’s a reprieve from the chaos of the main bar.

And then you see the door. Locked.

Holy fuck, you’re about to piss yourself. You try the handle anyway because maybe the universe will be kind, but no—solid, unmoving. Leaning against the opposite wall, you exhale sharply, blowing a strand of hair out of your face. Fine. You’ll wait. Not a big deal.

Except time starts dragging. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, tapping your fingers against your thigh. One minute passes. Two. You check your phone, even though you just checked your phone.

Okay. You can handle this.

Except—five minutes in, it’s not just uncomfortable. It’s annoying. Who the fuck is in there? Writing a novel? Performing a one-act play? Curing a disease?

You knock once, firm but not aggressive. Just enough to remind whoever is inside that there’s a whole world out here.

No response. Another minute passes. You cross your arms, shifting again, foot tapping against the floor. Seven minutes.

You knock again. Harder this time. “Yo.”

Nothing. Oh, come on. You glance toward the men’s bathroom. It’s right there. Completely open. No line. Just an empty doorway leading to salvation. Wouldn’t be the first time. But before you can talk yourself into it, you knock again. Hard. Impatient. At this point, you’re not even polite about it—you just hit the door. “Hurry up, Jesus Christ.”

The lock clicks. A second later, the door swings open, and out stumbles a couple—disheveled, flushed, and absolutely not here to use the bathroom for its intended purpose. The girl giggles into her boyfriend’s neck, her lipstick half-smeared, while his hands are still gripping her hips like they’re considering going back in for round two.

You don’t even react. You just shove past them, slam the door shut, and finally—finally—relieve yourself. Blessed silence, aside from the muffled bass still thumping through the walls. You take a moment to breathe, running your hands through your hair, shaking off the weird tension that’s been clinging to you all night. You’re fine. It’s fine.

When you step back out, the hallway’s busier—more people filing in, laughing too loud, waiting their turn. You navigate through them, dodging the wobbly, half-drunk girl clinging to her friend’s arm, sidestepping the guy trying way too hard to look casual against the wall. You’re almost back to the main floor when—

A hand catches your wrist. Firm, deliberate. Enough pressure to stop you, but not enough to hurt. Your breath stutters—not from fear, not exactly, but from the sheer certainty in that grip. Like whoever’s holding you already knew they would.

You turn your head. And there she is.

Paige fucking Bueckers.

Loose hoodie, sleeves pushed up, exposing the lean muscle in her forearms. A chain glinting under the dim bar lights, catching for half a second on the sharp line of her collarbone before disappearing beneath fabric. Her hair is a little messier than usual, like she’s run a hand through it one too many times. And her expression?

Smug. Smug as hell.

“Well, well, well,” she drawls, her grip on your wrist still firm, thumb brushing once over your pulse before she finally—leisurely—lets go. “Fancy seeing you here, tutor.”

Her voice is low, teasing. The kind of tone that makes you want to roll your eyes and press your thighs together at the same damn time.

You exhale sharply. “Oh, fuck me.”

Her grin widens instantly, wolfish. “I mean, if you insist—”

You smack her arm, and she laughs. Not just a chuckle, but a full-bodied, head-tilted-back, entirely too pleased with herself kind of laugh. It’s obnoxious. It’s attractive. It’s exactly why you need to get out of this conversation immediately.

But Paige has other plans. She steps closer—just enough that you feel the heat of her body, just enough that the crowd shifts around you, forcing you to stay exactly where you are. Her gaze drops, just for a second, flickering down your outfit before dragging back up, slow, deliberate.

“You clean up nice,” she muses. “Didn’t know you owned anything other than oversized sweatshirts.”

You narrow your eyes. “Didn’t know you left the gym.”

She hums, tapping her chin like she’s considering. “True. But, you know, when you drop thirty-six points in a game, you kinda have to celebrate.”

Of course she dropped thirty-six.

“And yet,” you deadpan, “here you are. Bothering me.”

Paige grins, shifting on her feet so she’s even closer, close enough that you can smell her cologne—something crisp, clean, expensive. Unfair.

“C’mon, don’t act so surprised,” she murmurs. “You knew we’d run into each other eventually.”

You raise a brow. “Did I?”

She tilts her head, amused. “Yeah. ‘Cause you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

Your pulse skips. “I have not—”

“Oh, you definitely have,” Paige interrupts, smirking. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you switching up your usual schedule. Skipping our tutoring session on Tuesday.” She clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “Tragic. Really had me wondering if I did something to offend you.”

God, she’s insufferable. And yet—

“Like you care,” you shoot back.

Her eyes glint, sharp, knowing. “Oh, I do.”

Something thickens in the air between you. Something tangible, humming just beneath the surface of her cocky smirk, her unwavering stare. Her fingers twitch at her side, like she’s considering reaching for you again. You see it happen, the micro-movement, the shift of her weight like she’s deliberating. And then, just as quickly, she exhales, straightening to her full height.

“Well,” she says, her voice dipping into something smoother, softer, “if you’re not avoiding me, then I guess you wouldn’t mind grabbing a drink with me, huh?”

You blink. “What.”

She jerks her chin toward the bar. “Drink. You. Me.”

You hesitate. That same pressure returns, that feeling of everyone wants her, but somehow, right now, she’s locked onto you. Paige watches you, the ghost of a grin tugging at her lips. “What’s wrong, tutor? Afraid you might enjoy my company?”

Your jaw tightens. “I tolerate your company.”

She smirks. “Then come tolerate me at the bar.”

Your mistake wasn’t stopping when she grabbed your wrist. Your mistake was letting her talk. Because now Paige fucking Bueckers is smirking at you like she’s already won something, head tilted, hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie like she’s lounging through this entire interaction. You can already feel yourself being pulled into her orbit, and she knows it.

“A drink?” you echo, squinting at her. “You? Drinking?”

Her smirk grows. “Shocking, I know.”

“Lemme guess,” you deadpan. “Protein powder with a splash of vodka? Maybe a nice gatorade-infused tequila?”

Paige gasps—actually gasps, pressing a hand to her chest like you just accused her of a heinous crime. “Wow. You think so little of me.”

“I think exactly the right amount of you.”

She exhales dramatically, shaking her head. “Tragic. Here I am, just a small-town basketball star trying to enjoy a simple, wholesome night out, and my own tutor is out here slandering my good name.”

You raise a brow. “Your good name?”

She nods solemnly. “That’s right. I am, at heart, a simple girl with simple pleasures.” Then, as if to punctuate the absolute bullshit she just said, she throws an arm around your shoulder, leaning in until her lips are a breath away from your ear. “Like dirty Shirley Temples.”

You choke. On nothing. Paige pulls back, just enough to see your reaction, the sharp glint of amusement in her gaze practically sparkling.

“No fucking way,” you manage. “You drink dirty Shirley Temples?”

She grins. “Religiously.”

“That’s—” You blink, at a complete fucking loss. “That’s the most unserious drink you could have possibly chosen.”

Paige winks. “And yet? It goes down smooth.”

“Oh, I bet it does.”

She laughs, full and warm, tilting her head like she’s considering something. “Y’know,” she muses, “I like this side of you.”

You narrow your eyes. “What side?”

Paige drops her voice, lowers it into something silkier, something that slides down your spine in a way that should be illegal. “The one that flirts with me back.”

Your brain short-circuits. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb now,” she murmurs, fingers tapping lazily against the side of your arm like she’s keeping count of your heartbeat. “You’re usually so good at keeping up.”

You hate that she’s right. You take a slow breath, forcing yourself to regain some composure. “You are so full of shit.”

Paige hums. “Maybe. But you seem to love it.” And then she winks. A full, obnoxious, Paige Bueckers-grade wink.

Oh, you are not going out like this. You lean in, just barely, watching the way her smirk twitches, the way her fingers still on your arm. “Tell you what,” you say, keeping your voice light, casual, like you’re not insanely aware of how close she is. “I’ll let you buy me a drink—”

Paige perks up. “Yeah?”

“If,” you continue, “you admit that I’ve been absolutely kicking your ass in our tutoring sessions.”

Her lips part. “Oh, hell no.”

You grin. “What’s wrong? Afraid of the truth?”

She clicks her tongue, shaking her head like she’s personally offended. “No fucking way. That’s extortion.”

“That’s accountability.”

She squints at you. “You are so lucky you’re hot.”

Your breath catches. For a split second, you completely malfunction, and Paige fucking sees it. 

She grins—huge, like she just sank a game-winner at the buzzer. “Ohhh, that got you, huh?”

You snap back immediately. “Did not.”

“Uh-huh.” She crosses her arms, rocking back on her heels. “You were fully thrown off just now.”

You roll your eyes, trying to pretend like you didn’t just combust internally. “You gonna buy me that drink or what?”

Paige sighs like you’ve personally exhausted her. “Fine,” she relents. “But I’m getting you my favorite.”

You smirk. “A dirty Shirley?”

She grins. “Exactly.”

And with that, she grabs your hand—just for a second, just to tug you toward the bar, just long enough to make your pulse spike before she lets go.

The bar is packed. Bodies pressed together, voices overlapping, the occasional burst of laughter breaking through the thumping bass. Paige moves through it like she owns the place—shoulders loose, hoodie slouched just right, that damn chain flashing under the dim lights. You follow, pretending your eyes aren’t tracking the way her sweatpants sit just low enough on her hips to be distracting.

She leans against the bar, elbow propped up, and tilts her head at you like she’s studying something.

You squint. “What.”

Her lips twitch. “Nothing. Just trying to figure you out.”

“You’ve had months to do that.”

“Yeah, but you keep surprising me.” She drums her fingers against the counter, slow and rhythmic. “Like, for example, I knew you had some bite to you, but tonight? You’re really showing your teeth.”

You cross your arms. “Maybe I’m just extra annoyed by you today.”

Paige hums, tilting her head like she’s considering. Then, before you can react, she leans in—close, warm, too close—and brushes her lips just against the shell of your ear.

“Nah,” she murmurs, voice dipping low. “You like it.”

A slow, rolling shiver spreads down your spine.

Paige pulls back, just far enough to meet your eyes, her smirk lazy and so fucking smug. She knows exactly what she just did. You hate that she’s right. Before you can retaliate, the bartender appears. Paige turns, all casual ease, and grins.

“Two dirty Shirleys,” she says.

The bartender raises a brow but nods, moving to make the drinks. You stare at Paige. She shrugs. “Hey, a deal’s a deal.”

“You actually meant it?”

“Duh,” she says. “What, you think I just flirt for fun?”

Your lips part, because yes, obviously, that’s exactly what you think. Paige sees the way your expression shifts, and her grin deepens. “Aw, babe, don’t tell me you thought I was playing with you.”

You blink. “I—”

She tuts, shaking her head. “See, now I really need you to drink this, ‘cause you need to loosen up.”

The bartender slides the drinks over. Paige pushes one toward you, watching expectantly. You hesitate. Paige lifts hers and clinks the rim of her glass against yours. “C’mon, tutor. Don’t be scared.”

Scared? Oh, that does it. You grab the glass and take a sip, the sweet bite of grenadine and vodka coating your tongue. Paige watches the way your throat moves when you swallow, her lips parting just slightly.

Just like that, the game shifts. You lower the glass, eyes locking with hers.

“Not bad,” you murmur. Then, mirroring her move from earlier, you step in just enough to make her breath hitch, tilting your head slightly like you’re about to say something important—something deep, something meaningful.

And then— you drag your tongue slowly over your bottom lip and the blonde’s eyes darken. You almost laugh, but her hand suddenly brushes against your waist, just a whisper of contact, the heat of her palm radiating through your thin shirt. It’s brief—so brief you could almost pretend it didn’t happen—but the way your skin burns says otherwise.

“Shit,” Paige mutters under her breath, just for you to hear.

You smirk. “Something wrong?”

Her jaw tightens. “Not at all.”

She takes a sip of her own drink, eyes never leaving yours, throat bobbing as she swallows. The moment stretches. Then—Paige exhales sharply, like she’s shaking something off, and grins. “Alright, alright, you win this round,” she admits, nudging your arm with hers. “Didn’t know you had that in you.”

You tilt your head. “Guess you’ll just have to keep figuring me out.”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “God, you’re fun.”

Then, so casually, she hooks a finger into your belt loop and tugs. It’s playful. It’s barely anything. But it’s also everything. Because she doesn’t let go. You swallow. Hard.

Her voice is softer now, but the teasing edge is still there. “I like this side of you.”

You clear your throat, trying desperately to focus on something other than the warmth of her touch. “You said that already.”

Paige smirks. “Yeah. But I really like it.”

Paige is cocky. Too cocky. The kind of cocky that drips off her like it’s stitched into her damn DNA, like she was born knowing how to get under people’s skin, into their heads. And right now, she’s looking at you like she’s already inside yours, like she’s set up shop in the most dangerous corners of your mind and made herself comfortable. She still has her finger hooked in your belt loop. Just resting there, like she belongs there.

“You’re staring,” she murmurs, sipping her drink, tongue flicking out to catch a stray drop of grenadine before it can slide past her lip.

Your jaw clenches. You look down at her grip on your jeans, then back up. Blatantly.

She smirks. “What, this?” She tugs. Not hard. Just enough to make the fabric of your jeans pull against your hip, just enough to remind you she’s right there.

You don’t move. “Let go.”

She hums, tilting her head. “Nah.”

Your fingers twitch around your glass. “Paige.”

She exhales, all mock exasperation, finally—finally—releasing her hold. But before you can celebrate your very minor victory, she leans in, voice dropping to something dangerously smooth. “Relax. You can touch me if you want.”

Your breath catches.

She laughs, tipping her drink toward you in mock salute. “You’re so fun to mess with.”

You narrow your eyes, pulse still skittering from the low, teasing way she said touch me. “You’re insufferable.”

Paige hums. “Maybe, you like it.”

And there it is. The line. The one she’s been waiting to say, the one she’s been circling since the second she grabbed your wrist.

You roll your shoulders, schooling your expression into something neutral. “You’re alright.”

Her brows lift. “‘Alright’? Wow.”

You sip your drink, unfazed. “I mean, you are failing bio.”

Paige scoffs. “Unnecessary.”

“Just saying. I don’t think geniuses need tutors.”

Paige smirks. “Nah, but they do need entertainment. And you, babe—” she tips her chin toward you, eyes gleaming, “—are so fucking entertaining.”

The casual babe nearly stops your brain completely.

You grip your glass tighter. “I should charge you extra.”

“For what? Intellectual stimulation?”

“For being exhausting.”

Paige’s grin widens. “Yet, here you are. Still talking to me.” She takes another slow sip of her drink, eyes locked onto yours over the rim of her glass. Watching you. Like she’s waiting for something.

You shift your weight, feeling entirely too seen, entirely too open under that gaze. Paige notices. Of course she does. Her lips part, her tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek like she’s considering something.

Then—before you can react—she leans in.

Your body locks up.

She gets close. Not teasingly close, not almost close—actual close. The kind of close that makes your heart trip over itself, the kind of close that makes your breath catch in the back of your throat.

Her lips hover right there, her breath warm against your jaw. Then, quietly, smugly—obnoxiously:

“Wanna make out?”

You freeze.

She grins. “What? You look like I just asked you to solve a physics problem.”

“Are you serious?”

Paige tilts her head. “Nah, I just like watching you panic.”

She’s so fucking unbearable. You set your glass down with a sharp clink. “You think you’re funny.”

“I know I’m funny.”

“You’re a menace.”

She beams. “You don’t seem to mind it.”

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the heat of the bar, or the way Paige is looking at you like she wants something—like she’s daring you—but suddenly, your patience snaps.

You grip the front of her hoodie and pull. She barely has a second to react before your lips crash into hers. Paige groans. A low, gravelly sound that vibrates against your mouth, sending heat shooting straight to your stomach. And fuck, she kisses back.

All cocky, eager pressure, her hands already gripping your waist, her fingers slipping just beneath the hem of your shirt like she wants to feel more.

The bar melts away. The noise, the people, everything—all of it fades because Paige is right here, kissing you like she’s been waiting for you to do this since day one.

You tilt your head, chasing the taste of vodka and cherry on her tongue, and Paige makes this obscene little noise before she presses in, deeper, her teeth grazing just enough to make your knees buckle. You gasp, and she smirks into the kiss, like she knows, like she’s already winning again.

Asshole.

You yank at the waistband of her sweatpants, a little revenge, a little fuck you, and Paige laughs—low, breathless—before biting gently at your bottom lip, sending a full-body shiver down your spine. Your grip on her tightens.

She hums, pleased. “Knew you wanted me.”

You pull back, just barely, panting. “Shut the fuck up.”

Paige grins, lips swollen, eyes gleaming. “Make me.”

[missmimii]

Detention | M - Sturniolo

୨ৎ － 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - In which two students find themselves landing in detention for their lack of good behaviour, they find themselves uncovering the tension and undeniable attraction of one another.

୨ৎ — 𝐂𝐖. 18+, switch!matt, fem!reader, smut, language, public(kinda?) dirty talk, pet names, fluff, (no actual intercourse)

MDNI!

୨ৎ － Wc - 8.5k

• 𝒩ℴ𝓉ℯ － finally got this shit written, woo!

The girl couldn’t help the way her eyes slowly drew themselves onto the boy who leans over his desk, pencil in hand, that occasionally makes a small tap, as he flicks the rubber end against the hard surface of the desktop. The few papers scattered across the desk occupied by the timidly quiet man, have slightly messy writing aligned across the sheets, his signature written atop.

MATT

Her lips tip up at the corners as she caught sight of the odd way he’d spelt his name, but pays no more mind than necessary, as well as averting the gaze of her eyes to the front of the practically empty room. With the boredom of sitting in silence, and nothing merely interesting to focus the girls attention on, she found herself flicking the irritant gaze of her eyes to the old clock that hung above the empty desk, along with the occasional bounce of the knee.

Why did I choose today of all days to be such a bitch? I could just leave, she pondered before clearing the foolish thought with a shake of the head.

If the girl was being blatantly honest, the only thing that had kept her in the depressive room, was the awkward boy that sat exactly four seats away.

Of course the girl would never consider herself as a nosy individual, considering it was those kinds of people who had gotten her landed in detention. Though, the curiosity she found herself feeling had her pleat-skirted bottom glued to her small plastic seat. Her mind raced with thoughts, the one in lead being, what the fuck was Matthew Sturniolo, doing in detention ?

Having gone to the same since middle school, it wasn’t a shock to be familiar or know most of the people in her grade. The girl had known the same peers for an obnoxiously, and seemingly endless amount of time, which at first, didn’t seem so bad.

When in reality, it was just a vicious cycle of a bunch of nosy teenagers, who think they know anything and everything about you.

Except for the three boys, that was.

It was a regular public school, resulting in nobody really striking as different.

Even if there was cliches and some random wanna-be gangster boys, who thought they had some higher superiority, in the end we were just all humans who were trying to get through senior year.

And even though the set of boys were the only triplets who attended the school, or twins for that matter, the bunch of boys weren’t the oddest thing that came from the pair. It was him.

Between Chris, Nick, and Matt, the middle child stuck out like a sore thumb. She’d noticed the youngest was most definitely the social butterfly of the bunch.

It didn’t take much to gather, seeing as every in any class that the girl had with the boy, he’d be leaning his head over random people’s shoulders, a toothy grin on his lips as he pathetically attempted to befriend almost everyone in his surroundings.

Two weeks prior

“Hey.”

My eyebrows knit together, head slowly raising from my textbook at the sound of a soft whisper coming from .. behind me?

I quickly glance behind me, catching sight of one of the familiar faces I’d seen almost every day since I was thirteen. “.. Hi?” The greeting comes out as more of a question, though I assume he doesn’t pay mind to it, as he immediately adds his over-enthusiastic response.

“I know you.”

I open and close my mouth, silently scrambling for a reply to the unsettling sentence. “Congratulations?” His smile dips at the corners a bit, and I hold in the urge to laugh.

The glare of the small diamonds pierced through both of the boys ears, become showcased as he turns his head, eyes warily swiping along the room. “So..” He slowly looks back my way, voice drifting off into a whisper.

“Doyouknowhowtospellthis?”

Both of my eyebrows raise. “Sorry? I literally- didn’t hear one thing you just said.” I let out a small snort at the end of my sentence, withholding the extremely strong urge to ask the triplet how he’s even real fucking person.

He breathes out a sigh while rolling his eyes. “Do you know how to spell this!” I jump and look around at his sudden outburst, seeing almost every peer around mine and the males desks, eyes on us both.

Before I could respond, I was beat to it by a boy that looked awfully familiar to the one behind me. “What the fuck Chris?!” The eldest triplet hissed, glaring down at the younger one with pink cheeks, obviously embarrassed by his brother’s lack of social skills.

Chris rolled his eyes as his triplet stood over his desk, crossing his arms like a scolded child while tipping his chin to the side with a silent scoff. “I believe your seat is nearing the front left corner of the room, Nick.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Nicks eyebrows drew together as he peered down at his brother. “The front right, you dummy.” He scoffed, and I covered my mouth to hide the smile that appeared on my lips as I sighted the pink flush that tainted the younger brother’s cheeks with embarrassment. “Which you’d know, after us being in the same class since kindergarten, if you knew your fuckin’ left and rights!” Nick whisper hissed.

I watched as Chris’s face fell with anger as he went retort, with a harsh reply I’m certain, before the sound of my English teachers voice piped in. “Christopher Sturniolo.” Both boys faces paled, simultaneously turning to face the angered woman. “We’re in the middle of a grammatical spelling exam.” She deadpanned.

Chris’s shoulders fell, before his eyes slowly glided beside him to his slightly taller twin. Nick shot daggers at the boy, making him huff out a small grunt, turning his head back to Miss Callahan as he plastered a sheepish grin in his lips.

“.. If I raise my hand can he help me?”

Current day

The memories of the day could make the girl cry, laughing all over again, remembering how the staff member nodded toward the eldest triplet who sat nearing the front of the class, to go help the younger one.

“That’s not how you spell ‘Rehearsal’ you dumb fuck.”

Though she was then already acquainted with two other brothers, she still found herself drawn, or rather curious about the middle child.

Matt stuck to himself, but because he was pretty much always accompanied by the presence of the other two men, it was decently odd to see how closed off and isolated he was when by himself.

When in the halls alone, he would have headphones atop his head, or resting around his neck as he fiddled with the horse chain woven around his neck. Or in class, he’d simply silently do his work, a hand never being raised or words being spoken from his lips as the hours passed.

It was almost refreshing to see a decent mannered man, in a school filled to the brim of attitude ridden, douchebags.

The odd thing about this wasn’t how he was perceived, because if the girl was being realistic, all of the traits that were being performed by him, weren’t necessarily weird or unusual.

The only difference was the contrast between himself and his brothers. Both of the others seemingly outgoing, and extroverted, where Matt just merely wasn’t.

Leading to the ultimate question she has in these very moments.

What in gods name did quiet, innocent, Matthew Sturniolo do to end up in detention?

“Shit.”

The startled girl jumps a bit as her desk rattles, two ring clad hands flying out to steady the wobbling table. She pushes her chair out a bit, jaw slack as she blinks up at the dark haired boy who stands directly in front of her sitting frame, from the opposite end of her desk. “Fuck, I’m really sorry.” Matt chuckles nervously.

The ability for words to emit from her parted lips fades away as she peered up at him in disbelief, weirdly shocked at the sinful strings of curses that had come from his lips. “Uh- no, you’re good.” She shook her head a bit, sending him a small smile.

“Yeah?” He tilts his head while peering down at the girl, seeking her reassurance. At her nod, he softly sighs while threading a hand through the dark tendrils of hair that messily topple just below his eyebrows. “I was just-” He points his outstretched thumb toward behind him. “-going to grab a pen.” He explains.

Her lips form an ‘o’ with understanding, holding in the urge to smile at the explanation he offered, as it was utterly unnecessary. “Here,” Matt’s eyebrows draw together with confusion as he leers down at nymph, her hands shuffling through the chaotic mess of the faded pink backpack.

She made a small sound of content, tugging out an assortment of pens, pencils, and highlighters. “Take your pick.” She grinned up at him while holding out her palm.

He eyes the pile of pens for a moment, before his calculated gaze drags back to hers. “It’s fine, really. Callahan has a whole fuckin’ drawer filled- I can just steal one from her.” The girl shakes her head.

“No really- don’t bother.” A few hairs that escape her braided pigtails stick her lips as she spoke, the words getting caught in her throat as she senses his gaze flicking to them as she simply blew the strays away. “These are just a bunch that I’ve borrowed from people in my math class and never gave back. Plus it’s the least I could do after you practically trampled over my desk-” The girl rambles, before she feels her cheeks warm.

Do you ever shut up? She thought to herself.

Her attention is brought back to the boy at the sound of a chuckle, head raising. “How considerate of you.” She forces a smile to her lips, seeing the male observe the action whilst his tongue dips from between his lips and runs along his bottom lip.

Matt’s slim fingers reach out and carefully take one of the school pencils from the girls palm, the rough pad of his index fingers grazing along the lining of her palm. “Thanks, doll.” She offers a small nod, finding herself at a loss for words at her entrancement, caused by his heated stare as he flicks the pencil between his middle and index finger.

His back is to the awkward girl within seconds of the interaction, the stained white airforces stalking across the floors as he goes back toward his desk. Sucking in a breath, she looked down at her thighs, fiddling with the hem of the pleated skirt her curvier hips had adorned.

Minutes after minutes go by, though it seems like hours, her eyes every now and then drifting back to the man that holds the pen she’d lent him dragging across the page in front of him.

The girl made notice of how he’d now flipped the pencil around, and erased markings of one particular line of the page, for what seemed to be the hundredth time. “Fuck me.” Matt curses under his breath, the girls eyes widening at the sinful words words.

Should I? The girl thought to herself. He looks like he’s struggling, to say the upmost least- and if he was anything similar to his youngest brother within the skills of grammar, I’d take it as so.

No- what was I thinking? I’m sure the grown man could figure out to spell whatever the hell he was attempting at.

Her gaze flicks upwards, spotting the hand now free of a pencil, and now kneading the back of his head in frustration. The girl felt her stomach swoop with a twinge of guilt, almost feeling sorry of the triplets irritated state.

She began to think, since she’d already done something wrong to end up in detention, maybe it could be her way of .. making up for her mistakes?

She inwardly scoffs at the thoughts of stupidity. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t wanting to help the boy out of selflessness, I was practically feigning to know what he’d done to end up in this hell-hole.

Fuck it, she said to herself, slipping from her seat. The girls slightly trembling hands tug down the back of the pleated skirt that had ridden up her backside from sitting, softly walking closer to the male, until she was standing behind him, filled with hesitation.

As the girls hand reaches out to tap his shoulder, it was immediately tugged back, the nagging thoughts building in the back of her skull. What if he took offence to my offer of help? She thought to herself. “Whatever.” She breathed out in a whisper to herself, before finally building the courage to tap his broad shoulder.

Matt’s head immediately turned in the direction from where she stood, resulting her stumbling a startled step back. “Sorry!” She held her two hands up in defence, lamely. “I was just,” She waves toward the page in front of him, his face turned with a confused expression. “Do you need help with..” The girl trailed off.

The brown haired male stares a her for a solid five seconds, open and closing his mouth, before they purse. “Yeah..” he chuckles awkwardly, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “Fuck, that’s so embarrassing.” She gently shook her head at his words.

“Not at all.” She waved her hand around. He stared down at her smaller hand as she extended it, the confusion gracing his features quickly morphing into realization as he gently plops the pencil in her open palm. “I still forget how to spell Wednesday correctly, till this day.” She huffed out. “Which is completely stupid considering English has been the only subject I’ve done halfway decent in.” At the lame rambled confession, the girl felt her hand still against the paper, whilst her eyes squeeze shut with embarrassment.

Why’d I have to say that?

The attempt at trying to help his lack of confidence regain apparently worked it seems, as he chuckles at her prior reply. Even though the boy knew he was consider odd, weird -even, he couldn’t help but find himself amused by the odd girls behaviour. “Really? That one’s easy for me. I just think wed-nes-day.” He cut the word into three sections.

She threw him a small glare. “Way’ to make a girl feel bad.” She playfully nudged his shoulder with her own, a small chuckle leaving his lips at the movement. “Uh- okay, so what were you trying to spell?” Her eyes run over the page, stopping on the blotch of faded inked writing, that had very clearly been erased and re-written more than once.

Matt’s cheeks visibly flush as he leans his body closer to hers, the small hairs on the girls arms sticking up as goosebumps began to trickle along the surface, a small grunt leaving his lips that were perked into a small frown as he looked down at his page. “Right there,” Her eyes follow his index finger as he slowly drags the pad over the area.

“I was trying- or rather failing, to spell ambidextrous.” She felt a the corners of her lips tip up, brushing the few stray hairs from my lashes to meet his eyes tilting my head a bit to lift a brow at the confession.

She repeated his words. “Ambidextrous?” At his nod she was unable to help the small laugh that left her mouth. “Sorry-” She softly shook her head, running her hand across her jaw to stop the laughter from rolling off her tongue. “isn’t that when you’re like- left handed and right handed?” Matt slowly nods, the pink tint on his cheeks deepening.

She just shook her head incredulously before bringing the tip of the pen down to the page. “It’s for science exam- it’s a long story.” He mumbles, and she sent him a quick glance, before going back to dragging the tip across the page.

Y/n hummed softly. “I have all day.” Matt watched as her hand stilled against the paper. “Well- until that clock strikes ten o’clock.” She waved toward the wall she assumed the dusty clock was on, before going back to writing down the overly complex word.

The triplet leaned back in his seat as he glanced at the wall, seeing it completely void of any decor, and shook his head with amusement.

What an odd girl.

Unbeknownst to the male, Y/n had the exact same thoughts running about in her own mind. She watched as his knee would bounce up and down in her peripheral vision, along with the occasional hand that would run across his jaw. Was I making him uncomfortable? Or did I come off as rude by asking if he needed help with something as simple as correcting a grammatical error?

The pit in her stomach made her feel a bit nauseous, though the girl decided to let it go as she cleared her throat. “So uh- what did you do to end up in here?” Her eyes quickly flicked to the male. “You don’t like- have to tell me. I’m sorry, that was so rude of me.” Damn it, Y/n.

Matt found himself in a trance almost, leering up at her with a stargazed expression as her lips moved with each word. He found the girls strange rambling amusing, not that he’d ever openly admit it. “What did you do?” The triplet drawled out teasingly, looking smug as he cocked his head in her direction.

The girl’s hand stop writing for a moment, pondering at what her response would be. “I.. may have called my English teacher a misogynistic douchebag?” Her confession came out sounding as more of a question. Matt’s head tipped back with a chuckle, not shocked by the statement, but also a little proud.

She rolled her eyes at the sound of his laugh, feeling her cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Allegedly.” She grumbled, going back to writing his cheat sheet. The girl had began to write more than just the complex word, sentence after sentence after sentence forming along the lines.

“Allegedly?” He drawled out, chest still shaking with laughter.

She finally couldn’t keep in her own laughter, a few small laughs coming from her own lips as she attempted to keep her writing beneath the lines. “Yes, allegedly.” She huffed, shaking her head. For the first time, Y/n felt genuinely free within the walls of the school. Which was saying a lot, considering how she was in detention.

Her jaw began to ache as she smiled bigger than ever, refusing to let his entertainment lapse from her ridiculous actions. Matt’s smirk remained on his lips, though he opted to run a hand across his jaw while holding in anymore laughter. “Well?” She hummed, raising a brow in his direction, making the males eyes squint with amusement. “Did he at least deserve it?”

She blew out a breath, shaking her head incredulously. “More than ever. You know the scarlet letter?” Y/n was met with silence, making her playfully roll her eyes as she turned her head toward him. “The book?” As if it was even possible, Matt’s perplexed expression had multiplied by ten.

“Demi Moore?”

His lips formed an ‘O’ in understanding, softly nodding. “She’s hot.” Her hand halted against the paper, eyes momentarily closing. Men. “Anyway,” She cut him off, from whatever disgusting rant he was about to go on. “We had to write an essay about the book- not the movie, and I made a point of writing how I thought it was complete bullshit that Roger Chillingworth, didn’t have to embroider an ‘A’ for adulterous actions, and the woman did.”

Matt watched as every word spoken by the girl, the more visibly irritated she became. “Jameson?” He lifted a brow, and at her curt nod, he scoffed. “He’s a dick. I had him in junior year, and he practically failed me because of a few typos.” He nipped at his index finger, hating the past thoughts of the terrible year.

She hummed. “Yep.” Her eyes slid to Matt for a second. “But I believe you still owe me an answer.” She cheesed, nudging his shoulder with her own softly.

Matt’s eyes drifted down to his page that now had perfect cursive writing aligned on numerous columns of the sheet, huffing out a small breath of amusement. The triplet had of course caught onto the girls motive long ago, but found himself unable to take the pen back from her, as if he needed her presence, or rather yearned for it.

Feeling her gaze on his jaw, he cleared his throat before speaking again. “Punched’ some dick who takes out his anger of being a shitty goalie on his girlfriend.” Y/n stopped writing for a moment, stealing a glance at the boy. Matthew’s lips tipped up.

“Allegedly.” He added.

Y/n couldn’t help the small chuckle that she let out, her grasp on the pencil faltering as she uses her two hands to stay upright. “Uh’ huh.” She blew out a breath, a smile still lingering on her lips as she glanced down at his worksheet.

She had practically written the remaining work, weirdly, considering she was not scientifically qualified whatsoever. She hummed and drug the smooth pad of her thumb across the smudge of ink that she’d mistakenly placed across the white page. “Well.. you’re all set.” The girl tipped her head in his direction, grinning foolishly as she looked down at the brunette boy.

Matt found himself drawn into a trance, feeling his heart pulpit repeatedly in his chest a he leered up at her with a stargazed stare. She was so beautiful. He thought to himself, the soft intimidating heat of his gaze tracing each and every freckle and beauty mark imprinted upon her cheeks and lips.

As the two both drowned in their own curiosity and abyss of thoughts, it seemed as if the silence between them was a reflection of the many words that went unspoken.

He must find me obnoxiously annoying- or stuck up.

She thinks I’m a joke, absolutely stupid. Not knowing how to spell something.

It wasn’t that the silence between the two was necessarily awkward, not at all even. It was more so ..tense. Far too tense for both parties that we’re already feeling trapped and unheard, cooped up in a humid classroom. Y/n cleared her throat, again. “I did horrible in science.” She blurted out, feeling warmth flood her cheeks immediately.

Matt’s lips tipped up as she rushed her next words out. “-barely passed actually. So honestly, I probably won’t understand, or pick up on one single thing that’ll come from your mouth about any of it.” The triplet nodded along slowly as she rambled, finding it extremely amusing, and quite frankly, adorable. “But I wouldn’t mind hearing about this exam- thingy.” The girls hands waved around, exaggerating her words.

As she noticed the suddenly outburst she had had, she felt her shoulders drop. What the actual hell, is wrong with you? “Only if you wanted too though.” Matt watched as she meekly murmured her next words, feeling his head tilt to the side as he observed her now shy body languishing.

The girl was beyond exhausted with her own lack of social skills, and with that she felt her emotions taking a toll for the worst as she began to wring with the hem of her skirt with shaky fingers. She was never the most comfortable in overly talkative situations, or rather chit-chat.

That was her absolute worst performance when it came to social interactions.

Despite this, she never thought of herself to be introverted either. She found herself enthralled and excited by speaking and meeting new people. The thing that the girl found herself drained from, was her terrible skills at being even relatively normal.

Matt, being well- himself, found himself almost immediately understanding the way she proposed and functioned. The male had saw the way Y/n carried herself the minute she stepped foot into detention, seeing as she most definitely did not act as the normal person would.

If anything, Matt found himself relating to her behaviour. Alike the two, they were both oddly similar, in different ways. And if the girl were aware of his acceptance of her unintentionally foolish personality, she wouldn’t have been nearly as embarrassed as she was in this exact moment.

But just like her, they both were too afraid to communicate the thoughts they had.

“I can explain along the way.” Y/n’s eyes widened as he broke the silence, Matt looking up at her with a heated stare that constantly flicked between her lustrous eyes, and the plumpness of her lips. But indefinitely he found his gaze become glued onto the pink-tinted skin of her flawless lips, his throat bobbing as he watched her pull her bottom lip between her perfect teeth. “Yeah?” He swallowed, forcing his now darkened stare up to her eyes.

Her lips parted at the unknown .. viciousness presented in the triplets gaze, having clearly noticed the way he’d looked at her lips. Remembering that the male did in fact ask a question, she opted for a silent nod, feeling almost unable to form a coherent response.

Y/n sucked in a breath as she attempted to regain control of her current feelings, accidentally allowing the pen to fall from her chipped pink nails, hearing it roll down the rigged surface of the desktop. “Shit.” The girl cursed to herself, reaching out to grab it.

Before she had the opportunity of grasping the darn thing, a larger, slimmer hand had already snapped out and landed atop the writing utensil. Matthew’s rings glittered from the sun that came in through the window aside his desk, gleaming with silver as he easily flicked the pencil between his index and middle finger, rolling it into his palm effortlessly.

The girl felt her stomach churn, though not in the way she would usual feel. This time it flipped, a fluttering sensation swarming her stomach as if there were millions of butterflies’ wings grazing the longing of her abdomen. “How familiar are you with the five different types of chemistry?” The usual softness of Matt’s tone was long gone, replaced with a husky octave that sounded as if he was containing the urge to speak something sinful.

“.. There’s different kinds?”

Matt found his tongue twinging the inside of his cheek at the girls soft tone, making her roll her eyes and gently push his shoulder as she caught the action. “Shut up. I told you I wasn’t science smart.” He chuckled and raised his hands in defence, the girl looking down at his desktop in embarrassment as she ran a hand down one of her messy braided pigtails.

Deciding not to tease the girl further, the triplet began to flip through the many pages piled up in front of him, before he stopped on a specific one as it was placed atop the pile. “It’s alright. You just helped me spell. The last thing you should be embarrassed about is knowing shit about science, sweetheart.” With a breathy chuckle, he ran his ring clad ring index finger under a messily written sentence of the page.

Sweetheart.

The pet name that the nervy girl would’ve never imagined lulling from his tongue, comes out sounding like a tantalizing melody, flowing from his perfect lips without a beat missed. She watched as his left hand that holds the pencil circles a few words nearing the edge of the page, with a slightly tremble. “See, here?” He underlines the words for extra measure, making her chest warm, the girl sending a quick nod.

“Good. That’s the first one. Organic chemistry.” He explains slowly, drawling out the word ‘Organic’ slower than the others. “The best way I can explain it is the study of the structure and properties, and preparation of carbon-containing compounds.” His eyes flick up to mine. “You got that?”

At his inquiry she found herself nodding, even though she really didn’t. “Mhm..” She forced a sweet smile on her pink lips. Matthew’s eyebrow lifts in suspicion, knowing that the unbeknownst mention of his explanation most definitely didn’t register with the girl, before looking back down to his page.

The inquiry had the girl nodding, feeling as if she was unable to form coherent sentence.

The girls one hand rests on the corner of his desk as she leaned over the surface, eyes dragging from the paper to his blue gaze. “Hm?” Matthew’s eyes flash with a foreign gleam as he she watched his hot stare drift between her lips and her dilated pupils, that showed the pure interest of their current lesson.

Many thoughts swarmed the girls mind, did he think I was stupid? Or that I was just not paying attention? Did he want to feel the impact of my lips against his as much I did his, or was I simply delusional?

The boy shook his head, clearing his throat while forcing his eyes back down onto the paper. “Physical chemistry is the branch of chemistry concerned with interactions and transformations of materials.” His voice came out with an underlining huskiness, the smokey octave sending chills up the girls arms. “You got that?” This time around, the girl found herself genuinely lost at the explanation, which resulted in the next encounter.

“Not exactly?” She nervously mumbled. “I’m still kinda’ confused.” The girl breathed out, hand gripping the edge of the males desk with anxiety. He must think I’m vapid.

She felt the air in her lungs being sucked out as she breathlessly gasped, Matt’s larger hand reaching out to mold atop of her smaller one. “That’s alright, yeah?” He muttered, feeling his own heart pick up in pace as he studied the anxiety ridden girl who stood aside him. “I’ll just have to do a better job explaining, hm?” She watched as he cocked his head, eyes flicking across her features as he awaited her gesture of agreement.

Instead, the girl felt herself in a lustrous state of mind, unable to stop the way her eyes trail their way to the hand that gripped her one hand. Her heart palpitated at the mere sight of the protruding veins that trailed across his large, slim hand.

The rings glittered in her eyes as the sun came through the window opposite to the two, glimmering against his perfectly fair skin.

Matt, immediately noticing the girls trance, doesn’t rush to remind her of her lack of response, instead watching silently as she used her thumb to trace one of the more prominent veins in the back of his hand. “Physical chemistry.” Matt’s lips parted as he watched the girls eyes flick from his hand to his eyes, pupils having doubled in size. “What’s the best way to explain that?” She murmured, tilting her head with a hint of innocence.

Within the girls peripheral vision she spots Matt’s opposite hand flinch from its balled place on the desk, almost as if he was stopping himself from reaching out. “I think it’d be easier if I were to just..” Both of the girls eyebrows of draw together with confusion, simultaneously being startled as Matt Sturniolo’s ring clad hand reaches out, and entraps the left side of her waist with a gentle, yet affirming grip “-show you.” He breathes out the second half of his sentence, his long fingers resting against Y/n’s back, his thumb gently pressing against her navel from the outside the blush-pink camisole.

She feels her jaw go slack while looking down at him, feeling her chest tighten with nerves as the warmth of his gaze roams along the girls facial features and expression.

Not that Matt would ever openly admit it, but he was most definitely gouging how the girl would react to the assorted touches he could offer her. “Matt..” The man feels his lips curve at the corners hearing her wary tone.

He decides to offer a gentle hum, his bottom lip feeding into his mouth with a small grunt. “What’re doing?” She whispered in that voice. The tone that had Matt going borderline crazy. Feeling Matthew’s hand mold around the dip of her waist, the girl spotted a darkness in the abyss of blue in his eyes as she emitted a small gasp.

His free hand slowly ran over his jaw, before chuckling. The girl feels her heart pick up at the husky chuckle coming from triplets mouth, her hand gripping the edge of his desk with more force. “Nothing, doll.” He mutters, whilst shaking his head dismissively.

The hand against her waist didn’t budge, as if Matt was in a trance by the sight of his hand, gripping her waist. Y/n feels her body immediately tense as his eyes lifted hers, and even if the male had caught the slight action that came from the girl, he didn’t pay mind to it. “Growing up, did teachers consider you audible learner? Or a more of a visual learner?”

As Matt’s soft voice drifted off into a undertone, the girl was abruptly startled with a loud yelp, as he waits no time for her response, instead use the hand that pressed into her side to nudge her onto the hard surface of Matt’s thigh. “Hm?” He hummed against her ear.

The feeling of his breath grazing her neck had the girls short and soft breaths, hitching in her throat. Goosebumps trickled over the flesh of her arms, the small hairs on the back of her neck flying up with anticipation. “Matt.” She whispered softly, the small whimper that came her lips gracing the boys ears, as she felt his smirk against her neck.

The bridge of his nose grazed along the span between her ear and neck, and as he came to the realization of their current condition, he feels his heart drop to his stomach. “Shit.” He whispered to himself, feeling the girl tense in his hold.

What was he doing? He thought to himself. Matt wasn’t like this- he was furthest thing from it. “I have no fuckin’ clue what’s wrong with me.” Matt quickly rushed out, and the girls back who brushes his front, feels the now pattering of his heart. “I’m really fucking sorry, Y/n.” He rambled.

Realizing the inner panic the male was currently experiencing, she felt a sense of guilt run through her blood. Did she do something wrong? Maybe I was too heavy to sit on his lap. The worrisome feeling she felt for Matt took over her mind, shifting in his lap she attempted to face him.

Matt audibly drew in a hitched breath as the girl shuffled around on his lap, his eyes dropping and seeing both of he girls perfect thighs on either side of his lap. The hem of her skirt flowed beneath his spread thighs, and just at the mere sight, he forces his eyes to the ceiling. Lord, give me the strength to not fuck this girl over my desk.

“Hey- you’re good. Honestly.” Matt shakes his head a murmuring something unknown under his breath, his heart skipping a beat as she tips his chin in my her direction. “Calm down, nothings wrong.” She assured him, nodding.

The boy mimics her movements, slowly nodding along. As the girl realizes her current stance, on top of Matthew Sturniolo’s lap, she finds herself become overtaken with embarrassment.

“I’m just gonna..” Matt trailed his words off into a whisper, before Y/n felt her wobbly frame being steadied by a large hand gently gripping her waist. Matthew feels the small flyaways of hair from her braided pigtails, that rested against her back, lightly tickle his cheeks as she looked down at him.

The twos eyes were aligned with a starstruck contact, and though they both attempted to cover their nervousness with a plain expression, they both felt the same desire for each other. The girl hears a small hiss come from the boys lips, her cheeks immediately flushing as she realizes it was because she had just barely moved from her place in his lap.

Simultaneously, she felt her self esteem plummeting as the first thought she had was that she must’ve been heavy on his lap. The mere thought had a frown upon the girls nipped at lips.

Matt, immediately noticing the upside down smile, felt his eyebrows draw together with both wary and curiousity at the sudden switch of the girls mood. “I’ll get up.” She musters weakly, desperately trying to keep her line of sight on the horse chain that was woven around his neck, simply unable to meet his blazing ones.

Seeing as Matt wanted to find out what was happening, or what had gone wrong, he opened his lips to ask the burning question, is everything fine? Is what he would’ve asked, that was until the girl decided to take then of all times, to shift her hips forward as a failed attempt to loosen herself from his grasp.

“Fuck.”

Y/n found her jaw dropping, as the obscene sound came from Matt’s lips. Did I hurt him? She wondered, heart beating painfully in her chest. The girls eyes, still, previously glossy from the prior interaction, blink down at the dark haired man’s current state. Matt’s head was now tipped back against the of his seat, chest moving up and down while is eyes fluttered shut. “Sorry- did I hurt you?” Her nose wrinkling with embarrassment.

At the sound of the nymph’s tantalizing voice, Matt’s eyes lulled open. He felt his adams apple bob at the sight of the girl straddling his lap, looking down at him with widened eyes that would’ve looked absolutely pornographic to any other man.

Though the triplet knew she was genuinely perplexed. As well as him, she couldn’t force her eyes from the boy beneath her. With every inhale he took Y/n spotted the muscles in his shoulders bulge through the black T-shirt, Ransom, embroidered onto the chest. His blue eyes had sunken down with an inner darkness, though still glancing up at her through his eyelashes.

Matt’s eyes open with a shaky breath, offering the girl a small shake of the head. “No.” Be breathes out, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he looked up at Y/n. “Just maybe- don’t do that again?” He says as more of a recommendation then a statement, voice deep in an undertone.

The girl takes beat before the realization came over her. “Oh.” She whispered, her cheeks splashing with warmth.

Matt sees this, feeling his lips curve into a smirk, whilst simultaneously using every bone in his body to ignore the girls pulsing heat resting directly on the now very obvious tent of the carpenter jeans he wore.

“Oh.” He repeated in mockery, chuckling lightly.

Even with the heatwave of tension that was currently taking over the boy, he still battled through the almost nauseating warmth coursing through his body, to observe the girl’s reactions and movements. The way her hips would shift atop the growing hardness beneath her needy, clothed cunt, or the small lewd sounds that would occasionally emit from her parted lips.

Or the way he audibly heard the girls breath hitch at his next action, Matthew’s arm swinging around the head of his hair, leaning the weight of his body onto the surface to find a comfortable position for his aching lower half. She immediately gasps, two hands flying out to grip each side of the head of the chair.

It was as if the ball of need inside her abdomen had built by ten, the fluttering sensation she felt between her legs never coming to an end as she felt her thighs attempt to clench. This, of course, failed. “You alright doll?” Matt watched the girls face morph into a pained expression at the realization that she was unable to alleviate the desperation building within her core.

Both knees sit on either side of the triplets thighs, acting as a barrier between hers, as she tightened her legs to close them together. As if she was unable to form a coherent sentence, Y/n offered a curt nod while forcing her hazy gaze anywhere but his face. “I didn’t quite catch that, speak up..” The hand on her waist was suddenly gripping my jaw and tipping my chin up. “I can’t hear you from down there.” He taunts, eyes twinkling with an unknown objective.

Y/n found her completely struck with whiplash at the sudden switch up of his body language. Once soft toned, with a timid persona that came across as shyness, now completely morphed into a dominant character.

Feeling her eyelashes feather against the no doubt, pink tinted skin of her cheeks, she blinked down at the triplet as her eyes went round. “I-I didn’t-” She whimpered and cut herself off as Matt’s eyes bored into hers with a blazing darkness beneath the soft facade.

Matt lifted his one brow, waiting for the trembling girl to go in with her sentence. As silence fills the room, Matt sighed softly. “That’s no good, huh?” He tutted in a condescending manner, head tipping to the side in a cock as he leered up at her.

As if the air in her lungs tore away from her, Y/n’s silent streak was very short lived, much to her dismay. “Fuck.” She cried, the hands that rested on the head of his chair slipping down to grip his shoulders. Matt yet again, lifted his hips against hers, though this time it made it abundantly evident that it was purposeful.

Matt felt as if his body wasn’t in his own control, the will of being able to contain the desperate urge of tainting the girls innocence, long gone. He whispered small curses and whimpers to himself as his head tipped back, his body on the closest thing to autopilot, feeling his hips roll up into the girls core.

The barrier of clothing between the two bodies did close to nothing at stopping the friction between the girls beating heat, and the triplets painfully, aching erection.“Matt,” Y/n swallowed the lump she felt in her throat, taking a momentary break to emit the small whine from the feeling of the ridge of Matt’s hard cock pushing against her clit. “-slow- slow down.” Matt feels his body begin to warm with a fuzzy sensation against his heart, as the worked up girls head fell onto his shoulder, cooing to himself softly at the sound of her soft pants.

The feeling of his stronger hand that had gripped her waist faltered away, before she felt the cold silver of his rings pressing into her cheek as he gently tipped her jaw up. “Hm? What was that?” He taunted for what seemed like the fifth time, his index and middle finger patting the girls cheek.

At that, Y/n felt herself grounding her hips onto him, making her feel like a complete and utter mess. It wasn’t necessary a slap, but she would’ve definitely considered it more than a gentle tap.

The irregular pattern of Matthew’s hips rolling into her core left her breathless, frustrated as he would abruptly slow down, leaving her desperate for more, before suddenly rutting his hard on into her needy heat. “Please.” She pleaded against his neck, the few tears of desperation finally falling.

Matt, feeling the salty wetness running down the span of his jaw and neck, felt a sense of pride. He wouldn’t consider himself a sadist, or anything along the lines of finding himself turned on by inflicting pain onto others. But there was something so profound and satisfying, seeing how the girl was falling apart to pieces, in his arms, because of him.

Feeling Y/n’s body move at a faster pace than normal as she inhaled and exhaled, Matt tipped his head down and allowed the tip of his nose to graze along the junction between her jaw and neck, leaving a soft peck against the dewy skin. “Cmon’ now.” He placed both hands on either side of her hips, effortlessly lifting her bottom half, groaning as he helped her move her hips along his cock.

This action immediately had her exhausted body, that had fell against his chest awakening like fireworks blooming across a dark sky. “Matt.” He grunted against her neck, though the recognition of hearing the girl saying the triplets name went unanswered, seeing as she just needed to know that he was there.

Cause of course he was there physically, very much so. It was more that she yearned to have him cherish the moment she fell apart in his arms.

To run his slim fingers through her now tangled hair as she bit down onto his shoulder, feeling a whole new wave of arousal come over her as she hears his whimper at the action. Y/n felt his two warm hands comfortingly squeeze the backs of her thighs, as a silent gesture that he had understood the girls feelings. “Sorry baby.” He whispered against her neck, heavily breathing as she felt his erection pulse between her legs.

She felt Matt’s right hand begin to glide up her waist, stopping anywhere and every where on the journey up to mold his grip against, reminding himself that the current event was actually happening. The hand slipped around one of her braids, two of the other fingers pressing against the back of her neck as he tugged her head up to look into his dark gaze.

“Have I been ignoring you? My greedy girl needs a little more attention, hm?” His tone was condensing and mean, making her breathe out a small moan. “Oh?” He mused, seeing the bob of her head. “That’s my fault, huh? My apologies sweetheart. It’s hard to decipher what you really want when you’re grinding on my dick, like a bitch in heat.” He murmured softly.

The contrast of his tone and words were striking. The words spoken were filthy, sounding like a sin flowing from his tongue. But the tone, the tone was soft and gentle, melodic with a gentle touch of sweet innocence lulling from his perfectly bitten at lips.

The piercing ends of the girls pink nails dug into Matthew’s shoulders, resulting a small whimper emitting from his lips, intermittently tearing down the wall of dominance he’d had up. The lack of relief she so desperately wanted, or rather now needed, wasn’t being fulfilled, making her eyes glisten with tears of frustration. Even science wasn’t this hard.

Pun intended.

Y/n let out a pathetic moan against his neck, too far into the rabbit whole of pleasure that was Matthew Sturniolo, continuing to roll her hips into his. “You.” She breathed against his neck. Matt hummed in response, squeezing her hips.

“Hm?”

Blinking away the haziness in her eyes to look up at his clearly. “I want you.” At that, Matt thrusted his hips up into her dripping core with a guttural moan.

You. Him. Matt.

She wanted him, and even though he’d already known this from the time her needy cunt had landed on his clothed dick, hearing it come from her lips, in that angelic fucking voice, had brought him closer to his release ten times faster. “I know, doll. I know.” He breathed out, Y/n watching his head as it fell back against his seat whilst his blue eyes fluttered shut.

Matt uses his one hand that rested on her backside, to gently guide her lower half forward into his painfully hard erection, emitting small whimpers while doing so. The way he felt her pulsing heat through both of their clothed bottom halves told him that she was getting closer to her relief, bringing him to his faster. “Close?” He murmured against her neck.

She could only offer a moan as a reply, shivering as his breath fluttered against her pulse as a warm breeze during dusk. Matt’s fingers toyed with the hem of her pleated skirt as she grounded down onto the prominent tent in his jeans, trying to distract himself from coming before the girl.

After all, he always was a gentleman.

“Fuck.” Y/n whispered against the shell of his ear in a small cry, and Matt felt his stomach tighten at the feeling of her thighs trembling on either side of his. As the male was partially to deep into his own pleasure, all he was able to do was run his one hand down the small of her back, as he soothed her through the overwhelming pressure of her release.

Y/n heard the small cures and whimpers that emitted from Matt’s lips, and even as the overwhelming sensation of her past release was still overcoming her body, she did her best to comfort the triplet as well as she mustered. “So good.” She murmured against the shell of his ear, panting softly. “You’re doing so good, Matt.”

Fuck, his eyes rolled back as well has the ball in his abdomen had suddenly tensed. “Shit.” He whimpered, squeezing the backs of her thighs. “Gonna’ come.” He breathed out, making Y/n hum softly against the nape of his neck.

I’m here. We’re both here. Together.

Y/n glided her nails against his scalp as he rode out the aftermath of his release, whispering sweet nothings in his ears at the feeling of his hard thighs trembling against hers. “Holy fuck.” He breathed out, tipping his head back with a soft grunt. “I’m so happy I decided to be a dick on this exact day.” Y/n’s head lifted a bit, lifting an eyebrow.

Was he serious?

The two both jumped at the sound of a blaring bell, as well as coming to reality of what they’d both just done. Their eyes tuned into each others, lips parted with shock at their own actions. Y/n cleared her throat, sitting up a bit as her cheeks flushed. “Good luck with the test.” She muttered, tilting her head.

Matt drew his lips into a line, ignoring the urge to smile at the girls words. “Best wishes with that whole- Demi Moore ordeal.” Her shoulders fell.

Men.

୨ৎ 𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓈 ~ @graysturns @imwetforyourmom

[lady-djarin]

home

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

warnings/tags: sickening fluff, established relationship, no outbreak, sarah’s alive and well, some touching and kissing between reader and joel, still adult content but no p in v. mdni

word count: 2.6k

a/n: not edited much (that’s my motto) but i just kinda dumped this out in one go so it could be bad. who knows.

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Dad!”

Ever since Sarah entered middle school she has become quite loud.

“Dad, there you are,” she barreled into the living room where you and Joel sat on the couch. “I need you to sign this.”

She pushes a piece of paper into his face along with a pen. He quints at it to read the small print. You grab it out of his hands when he tries to locate his glasses that are nowhere in sight.

“Oh the dance! How fun,” you handed it back to him and made sure he signed it as you shot Sarah a wink as she bounced happily on her toes.

You have been dating the single dad for around six months and you have grown quite close with Sarah. Joel has expressed how nervous he is about his baby girl getting older and all the things that come along with it. More than anything else he hates the idea of her dating. He signs the paper with his usual grumpy frown but does it nonetheless and in turn Sarah squeals and jumps up and down in excitement.

“Can you take me shopping tomorrow, I only have a week to shop for a dress,” Sarah put on her best puppy dog face that usually works on her father.

“I’m sorry angel I’ve got a job tomorrow,” he did look genuinely upset that he couldn’t spend the time with his daughter.

“I’ll take you, we can have a girls day,” you had been wanting to spend some one on one time with Sarah and this was the perfect opportunity.

“Oh my god, thank you!” She squealed again and jumped on you and wrapped you in a tight hug. She ran up the stairs talking mostly to herself about what kind of dress and makeup she was planning for her first dance.

“Thank you darlin’, you didn’t have to do that.” He rubbed your leg with his large warm hand and the other came up to hold your face as he kissed you tenderly.

“Oh please, I love that kid. Plus, I don’t think shopping is your forte,” you both laughed at how true that was.

Even though you’ve only been seeing Joel for a few months, you have never felt so at home. He and Sarah have welcomed you in like you were always meant to fit in their little family. You knew you were never one to have kids of your own but the young girl makes you feel more maternal than you ever have in your life.

~

You and Sarah spend the day in the mall finding stores to invade and try on every dress possible. She finally settled on a beautiful deep purple shimmery one that made her look way older than she needed to, but it was appropriate. Afterwards you found the food court and dug into some pizza and garlic knots.

“So… since your dad will never bring this up… are you going with anyone to the dance? Like maybe a boy? or girl, I don't judge.”

You knew she probably didn’t want to talk about it as pre-teens never do but you wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to do anything stupid. Her cheeks blushed a deep shade of crimson but she giggled slightly, telling you there was someone.

“I mean… I’m not going with anyone but my friends but…”

She was avoiding telling you the truth, maybe because she thought you’d rat her out to her dad.

“Look Sarah… I'm not asking to be a snitch, I just want to make sure you’re being safe and smart, that's all.”

She looked up at you with shyness but trust in her deep brown eyes.

“There is this boy… Ben,” she had the most radiant smile on her face telling you about her crush. He’s a little older than her but in the same grade and apparently very sweet and has blue eyes and dark blonde hair. You can imagine her sitting in class staring at him instead of listening to the teacher.

“So, are you going to meet him at the dance?”

“I mean we haven’t made plans but… I told him I’d see him there, and he followed me on instagram!”

It all reminded you of the days before adult pressure and complicated feelings. You smiled as she continued to tell you about him and the things she found endearing.

“Ok now, I have to ask and be the annoying adult but have you, you know… done anything with boys before?”

While she was only just under thirteen you still had to make sure, kids do anything these days.

“Like what?” She gave you a scrunched confused face then slowly realized what you were asking. “Like kissing?! Oh no that’s gross, boys smell anyway…,” she seemed to maintain her innocence for a while longer.

Thank god.

“Well that’s fair, but just remember, if a boy ever tries to do anything you don’t like, you can always say no. Don’t ever feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

She looked a little confused at your instruction but nodded anyway. She’s a very smart kid and strong willed, you have full faith in her.

The rest of the day was spent wandering around the mall and you both finally decided to end up getting your nails done.

~

Joel came home to find you both cooking dinner, a hoard of shopping bags littered the house.

“There’s my girls,” he ruffled his daughter's hair and covered her eyes jokingly as he kissed you deeply. “How was shopping? Successful it seems like.”

“Very…,” Joel’s eyes kept flicking down to your lips, as they often did when he got home from work.

“Dad, look! We got our nails done!” She splayed her fingers out so he could inspect her manicure. You let her get some slightly ‘grownup’ nails, small extensions with french tips. She said she’ll be the talk of the dance.

“Oh look at that… my little girl is all grown up…,” he looked a little queasy and you both laughed at his reluctance to let her grow up.

“Sarah, why don’t you put these bags away and I'll finish dinner, ok?”

She hugged you tight around your middle and mumbled about a million ‘thank you’s into the fabric of your shirt before grabbing her bags and darting up the stairs.

As soon as she disappeared Joel grabbed your hips as he stood behind you and pulled you into his hard chest. He attached his lips to your neck and ran his hands over your curves.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” His voice was low and gravely in your ear.

“Mmm, not today…”

He pulled you impossibly closer and nuzzled his mouth against your neck. “Well I do, I love you so damn much,” he continued kissing down your neck and any skin he could reach. “Sarah loves you too you know, she’s always talking about you…”

It felt like he wanted to talk about something else, something more. Your relationship has been going so well and it kind of feels like it’s time to take the next step. While you both know that this is it, there’s no one else for either of you, it might not be exactly time yet to tie the knot. However you have talked about sharing a space, the idea of living together is exciting to both of you.

“Well I love her, she’s a great kid, because you’re a great dad.” You turned in his arms and returned the kisses along his jaw. Just as you slid your hands into his back pockets, loud very teen sounding footsteps came racing down the stairs. You pulled away from each other but Sarah was too busy looking at her nails to notice. The timer on the oven beeped and as Joel and his daughter set the table you gathered the rest of dinner.

You sat around the table like you always did on Saturday nights and talked about the plans for the next week and the dance. You really did love your little found family.

~

The following Saturday you sat in Sarah’s room with her and a couple friends of hers, helping do their hair and makeup. Joel happened to have a poker game tonight with Tommy so he said bye just before the teen girl screaming got too loud. So here you were, a fully grown woman essentially playing dress up with a few 13 year olds. But you couldn’t be happier.

After the girls were ready and a lengthy photoshoot ensued, you were off. Four screaming voices all trying to harmonize to some pop song over the radio made your ears ring but seeing Sarah so happy made it worth it.

The plan was to pick her up around 10pm when it ended.

So you were super confused when you got a call from Sarah around 8:30pm.

“Hey girl, what’s going on? You ok?”

All you heard at first was a sniffle, then a deep breath before her wobbly voice came over the speaker. “N-no, not really…”

Your heart stopped for a second but you tried to stay calm.

“What’s wrong?” You tried to hide the urgency in your voice.

“Ben… he—“ hiccup “He was a… a total jerk!” Her voice was strained and scratchy like she had been crying for some time.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry… You know what, you stay in the office, ok? I'm going to come get you.”

She only mumbled a quiet ‘ok, bye’ before you slammed the phone down on the receiver and grabbed your keys. You shaved off probably five to ten whole minutes speeding through the streets to the school.

You quickly make your way to the office and find her with mascara running down her cheeks. She hiccuped and sniffled when she saw you before sluggishly standing and wrapping her arms around you. She sobbed slightly into your sweatshirt and you wrapped the one you brought her around her shoulders. After the teacher who waited with her waved you out, you gathered her into your car and made your way home.

But before reaching the familiar street you had an idea. Sarah had been slumped in her seat with the sweatshirt wrapped tight to her form until she saw the neon lights. You swore you saw her eyes light up when she saw the ‘Dairy Queen’ sign and it warmed your heart.

She got her usual birthday cake flavor of course, and you got your favorite. Before now you tried to let her have a few breathing moments but as you settled in the parking lot you tried to get some information from her.

“Are you ok?”

“Boys are so stupid…,” another tear slipped out of her eye.

“I know… I hate to say it but they don’t get much better.” You managed to get a laugh out of her which was an improvement. “What did Ben do?”

She spooned the thick ice cream into her mouth and tried to talk around it. “H-he was with that girl Rebecca all night and I tried to say ‘hi’ but he ignored me and pretended I wasn’t there. They were laughing at me…,” She resolved into sobs again and you rubbed her shoulder to try and comfort as best as you could.

“Oh god I’m sorry that’s so… shitty.” You never really cursed around her as she’s still young but this felt appropriate. It also helped draw out a laugh again, which made you both smile. “Look, boys like that are not worth your time. He’s playing games and you don’t want a boy who plays games. If anyone ever talks to you like that, it means they don’t respect you. You should only be friends, or more, with someone who respects you. Does that make sense?”

She looked at you with her red-rimmed and puffy eyes and you knew she got it. Of course she got it, she’s a smart kid.

“Yeah, I think so. Thank you… I'm sorry I freaked you out.” The light returned to her eyes as she giggled at her own words.

“You didn’t freak me out… too bad.” You were both laughing now, recalling the way you sped over to the school. “Look we can talk more if you want but I think you need some ‘you’ time tonight. Let’s get you some of my nice bath stuff and we can do a little spa night?”

“That sounds nice… thank you.” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around your neck. On the way home you told her stories of things boys had done to you in the past. You did make sure to let her know that her dad was not one of them, he was the best kind of guy. Once you arrived home you gave her some bath stuff and gave her a clean towel and told her you’d wait downstairs for her.

You made some tea in the meantime and shortly after, Joel got home. Before he said anything he looked towards the stairs and heard the shower running. He gave you a quizzical look and you sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to like it.

“So Sarah had me pick her up early…”

He already looked concerned.

“She’s fine… it was boy drama. We talked and she’s still upset but she’ll live.”

He breathed out a dramatic sigh and you welcomed him into your arms.

“This is what I was worried about,” he sounded so defeated.

“Joel, it’s bound to happen. Every girl gets her heart broken, it’s inevitable unfortunately.” You rubbed your palm over his stubble and looked over his tired features. “She’s smart and strong willed. Boys will be intimidated by her when she realizes it.”

He softened at that. “Thank you for helping her so much, she really has opened up since knowing you.”

“She’s really something, just like her dad. He’s not too shabby,” you giggled as he pinched your waist.

“I’m not too shabby? That’s sweet.”

You mirrored his smile as he boxed you between himself and the kitchen counter. He kissed you deeply, pushing his tongue between your lips, tasting every inch of you. Your hum reverberated through your chest into his and your skin lit on fire from the inside out. Desire instantly pooled in your lower stomach and you ground your hips into his. This only resulted in his hard, jean clad thigh slipping between yours and pushing against your clothed sex. You moaned into his mouth and just as you felt like you were going to lose it, Joel pulls away and then you hear descending footsteps.

Sarah reaches the bottom but doesn’t come down, “I’m going to go to bed, I’m really tired. Sorry dad.”

“That’s ok angel, you sleep good. Love you.”

“Love you guys,” then she’s gone.

“‘Love you guys’?” you look at Joel with surprise. “Did she just say she loves me?”

He just stares down at you with this tender look, unresponsive for a few moments.

“Move in with me.”

It wasn’t a question but a plea. Like he couldn’t imagine you’d say no. Because why would you?

“Really?” Your heart raced.

“Yes really, we both want you here. More than anything.”

“Of course, I’d love to!” You squealed like Sarah did earlier tonight and launched yourself at him. He caught you around the middle and pulled you up, sounding giddy as you did while he spun you around.

You spent the first night in your now full time shared bed after Joel showed you all the ways he truly, passionately loved you.

You knew you were finally home.

[min1check]

Leto! Joker x side chick! Reader ig…

1248 words

Barely proofread ts so i’m so sorry if u see errors

pt 2

Description: You work at one of Joker’s clubs and he starts to take an interest in you….

Every night there would be presents and money left on my small table in my small ass kitchen in this small ass apartment. 

It all started when I finally learned the real identity of my boss’s boss’s boss at the club I worked at. I really needed money desperately for my family who lived out of the country. I’m currently working on the papers so they can gain legal presence but until then I need to work hard and study hard. 

At the club I worked at, they paid me better than most places and I would be able to go to university in the daytime and work at night. 

The club was pretty high class, there were many high profile politicians who were VIPs. Given that they were even at a club, they were most if not all sleezebags who tried to hit on the staff to the point that I could file sexual harassment charges. But nevermind that. 

The club was so high class and full of VIPs that I didn’t expect it to be owned by the biggest crime lord in this city, the Joker. This whole city was corrupt in and out. Even if I tried to file those sexual harassment charges I would’ve been shut up instantly. 

When I saw this head of green hair and his pale deathly looking skin and his red lips that I couldn’t tell if it was lipstick or blood, I tried my best to not be noticed by him. 

Though he looked like a corpse he was extremely attractive. Maybe in another universe I would actually try to get at him. Well and if his fellow Clown Queen of Crime didn't exist. She frightens me even more than Joker. Well actually that’s a lie but as a girl I can say that we’re ruthless when it comes to boyfriends and husbands and such. Too blind and in too much love to use actual reason.

Harley’s beautiful though they genuinely look good together. 

I went over to Joker’s table where he was talking to (or more like taunting) his client to drop off the drinks. It seemed that everyone else already knew what his regular drink was and his client’s. 

I tried my best not to mess up or to not loudly drop the drinks because at this moment I could actually not stop my whole body from shaking. They continued talking about their deal without even looking at me. I kept a friendly smile on my face. 

I walked off a bit quickly because I was terrified. Yet I felt like someone was staring right at me. I quickly turned my head and all I could see in that moment was Joker with his usual devilishly grin looking straight at me. My blood ran cold. 

When I was out of his sight I closed my eyes and started to pray. 

‘Dear God, please forgive me for any sins I have committed for I do not want to die tonight. I have too much to live for so please don’t let me die. Thank you for everything you have blessed me with Lord, amen.’ 

I was crying internally. 

Literally was gonna kill myself right then and there. But I brought myself back to reality and back to work. 

Whenever I would come to work the Joker would be there with Harley. 

I literally think I’m going crazy because I think he keeps looking straight at me…. With his girlfriend/wife/partner in crime which was even worse. Yeah he was hot but cheating men are scum of the Earth. And Joker’s a mass murderer and other stuff. To be honest I kinda forgot I’ve been too busy with school to care about politics….

I finally got a shift off and a day off of school today. I’m just gonna sleep and lounge around and be fat. I got out of my bed to go get some more ice cream in my kitchen. 

It felt a bit unnerving when I was in the kitchen, like someone was watching me. I shook off the feeling because I had locks on every single window and door. The crime in my country is a bit bad so Gotham wasn’t that much different. 

As soon as I turned around to go back to my bedroom with my ice cream in hand…

“Boo!” 

“What the fuck?!” I screamed so loud that I dropped my bowl of ice cream and it shattered. 

“The look on your face doll… it’s so… funny!” The intruder was the Joker and he couldn’t and wouldn’t stop laughing at my reaction. 

“…” I just stood there in silence thinking about how that bowl was so expensive…

I didn’t want my floor to be sticky so I started picking up shards of the really expensive bowl. 

“Aww~ Are you.. mad doll~?” He teased me with his usual grin. 

“Not really, I’m just a little sad because this bowl was really expensive.” I sighed to myself. 

“If that’s it then here.” Joker tossed money at me. 

“Um… It’s okay I’ll just work for it back.” My mom always taught me that I shouldn’t accept money and that I should always offer to pay so I gave that money back to him. 

“Just take it Doll, think of it as my~ first~ gift~ to~ you~” he really emphasized on the last part like really. 

He got comfy and sat down on a table chair as I cleaned the floor from the sticky mess. 

That sounds a little wrong, I just mean my ice cream trust…

After cleaning it all, it occurred to me…

Why and how did the Joker get into my apartment…

My blood ran cold. I feel like I could turn into a reptile with how much my blood goes cold. 

“I liked seeing you at my club but I like seeing you in this shaggy apartment more.” He looked at me. 

“Um… how did you get in here?” I spoke quietly afraid I would somehow strike a nerve. 

“It was easy! I broke your window.” He spoke like he just finished climbing Mt. Everest. 

My mouth dropped to the floor. 

Like I tried to close it but it just wouldn't. 

“…” 

“What~? Cat got your tongue Doll?” He grinned. 

I’m actually going to kill myself. 

At this point I hope he pulls out the glock 19 and shoots me….

Wait but all my windows are barred up…

I looked into my living room and realized there was glass everywhere and the metal bar was stretched apart enough where it would fit the Joker perfectly. 

Calculating the cost in my head I actually started to cry. Tears ran down my face. 

I would be fine if I picked up a few extra shifts but I had to study more because finals were coming up. I’ll have to cut down on food and sleep…

The Joker awkwardly patted my back. 

“Here’s some more money Princess.” 

“I.. Cant accept it.” I said between sniffles and pushed his money back to him. 

He suddenly grabbed my head with both his hands and made me stare him in the eye. 

“Take. The. Money. Princess. Or else I’ll shove it down your throat.” His face was way too close to mine. 

“Thank you…” I tried my best to smile while he was still manhandling my head. 

He kissed me out of literally nowhere. 

My blood went cold again. 

I don’t want to be a mistress or some side bitch….

And Harley’s gonna kill me……

Yet it felt so good. 

[taesanluv3r]

chronicles of an overly in-love woonhak.

kim woonhak x reader

entirely in woonhak's pov (he's just yapping to himself the whole time), this is so dumb n stupid but i think it's silly cute idk 😓 cuss words!! lowercase intended, pls excuse any spelling mistakes / grammatical errors <3 enjoy :3

wc: 1,401

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"relax woonhak, it's not that hard"

all i needed to do was make a move. seriously, how hard could it be? i mean it was easy to help riwoo make a move on the girl he liked, so why would it be hard for me to make a move on someone myself?

but of course, the difference was that riwoo was hitting on someone random from his dance class while i, little pathetic old kim woonhak, just had to have a crush on the ever-so untouchable, and insanely stunning…

yn fucking ln.

i mean she's like- way way way out of my league, right? the other day i confided in taesan, i always talk to him when i feel lost...well only when i'm lost in the thoughts of her. that's only cause she's rather close to him, they're like siblings who aren't related at all- i think it's pretty sweet. otherwise, i wouldn't ever confide in that menace.

but he knows her very well, and he knows me very well, it's the perfect combination. anyways, i told him about my feelings for her, how she absolutely drove me insane. i mean who wouldn't go insane? she's just so effortlessly...her, in a good way, of course. god nothing bad about her would ever come out of my mouth...she's just perfect.

okay maybe I'm lying, she can be a little stubborn and bitchy sometimes...but that's just another thing I can go on and on and on talking about. i'm always talking about her.

taesan laughed at me, he told me i was oblivious and delusional if i couldn't see that she felt the exact same way. i mean can you believe that? she feels the same?! about me?! about kim woonhak?!

i don't believe it for a second...okay, i lied again. the statement did fuel my stomach up with butterflies and make my head spin and cheeks flush and all that…jazz.

and then he said one thing, the one thing that's making me think about everything all over again.

"if you love her so much, make a move!"

and so now here i am, sitting in bed at one o' clock in the morning. only eight hours until i have to go to school. which means that i only have eight hours to construct the most perfect plan to finally make my move. i mean how hard could it be? it's just like chess! not that i'm good at chess, i actually kinda suck at it…

"ugh cut it out woonhak, you're wasting your time!"

she probably doesn't even like me back. maybe she's just as nice as she is to me with everyone else. and surely that drawing she made me was just a friendly gift! and of course the poems she sent me were probably drafts for someone else…though she did send one with my name in it once…

wait.

wait a fucking minute.

SHE PROBABLY DOES LIKE ME BACK?!

OKAY, okay calm down woonhak. no need to get your hopes up too unecessarily high…

this does give me confidence though, just keep thinking positively and make your move at school FIRST THING IN THE MORNING!

"i got this!"

maybe i lied a little to my reflection in the mirror whilst getting ready for school this morning. cause she was right there when i arrived, alone and ready for me to go tell her I love her, but fear got the best of me…as per usual.

so now i'm here, in fucking science class having to listen to professor lee rant about whatever problem he had with lamarck's theory as opposed to darwin's. interesting one though, i know yn has a real interest in the theory of evolution and just about everything else biology related- maybe not plant biology, she didn't look too happy when we were told we're gonna study plant science next week.

just as i started thinking about her all over again, a piece of paper struck my head from behind. it landed in between my back and my chair, not very comfortable. i turned to reach for it, checking out whoever threw it at me as i did so.

yn ln shoots her unique smile at me, her lips tilting crookedly. she never smiled with her teeth because she doesn't quite like how it looks. i strongly disagree, i think it's adorable when her uneven fangs show, it's just another peculiar thing i get to love about her.

i stare too long, too long that she has to raise her eyebrows to remind me of the paper i was supposed to retrieve from behind me and read. my cheeks were probably redder than the ripest of strawberries- ironically, her favourite fruit.

the page was off-white, a cute rilakkuma print bordering the lined-sheet…classic yn ln and her cutesy stationary. i couldn't help but smile as i opened it to find her neat, yet absurdly tiny handwriting.

i admired it for a second, not quite reading the actual note just yet, but once i did…

the ink was pink, one of the gel-pens she usually used to write her overly pretty notes for literature. and the words she scribbled on the page were simple. well, as simple as such a complex and interesting girl like her could ever get.

"hi woonhak, i like you. like a lot. see you under the bleachers at lunch. :) <3 ★"

not even a question. if it weren't for the doodles of hearts, smiley faces, and stars all over the note i would've deemed it a threat.

another lie. i should stop lying. she could tell me to throw myself off a cliff or threaten me with a knife and i'd still be flustered and in love.

the lunch bell came a lot sooner than i calculated. perhaps my brain had been overstimulated by the test i had just finished, or maybe time is just that unpredictable when you're anxious.

i desperately needed to piss- another lie that i told myself to postpone the possible embarrassment i might encounter with my crush under the bleachers today. fuck. why am i so nervous?

i decided it's best to just YOLO and speed over to her usual spot under the bleachers. what's the worst that could happen? you know...besides her revealing it was all a prank and then totally making fun of me!!!!!!! ha ha...ha...

i'm cooked.

she was already there, a slight worry on her face as if she had been waiting and wondering where i had been. i was about to mutter an apology for being late, saying i needed to go to the bathroom and such but she didn't let me talk.

"i know you like me, woonhak"

at this point i was shitting sweat.

"um-"

i was interrupted.

"you took too long to say anything and frankly, i got impatient. cause i like you too- like- a lot. lol"

lol, she ended every serious sentence with that abbreviation to lighten the mood- cute.

all i could do was chuckle in relief.

"can we kiss now?"

she asks, her words coming out a little stale and hasty, but sweet. in a way that made my heart break and melt into bits and pieces. who am i kidding though, she does anything and i'll melt into bits and pieces.

"yeah-"

her lips halted my chatter. she tastes like an odd mixture of banana milk and…honey garlic fried chicken- but it tasted kind of good...?

remind me to ask her where she got her lunch from cause...damn.

the kiss lasted longer than i would've earlier expected, her hands were in my hair and mine held her waist. i had to bend down a little, she's not that short but she's definitely not tall. not as tall as me, that is.

alas we seperated. she giggled softly and i can see a faint pink tint brushed against her cheeks as she caught her breath. then she looked up at me, with the most precious set of eyes. it didn't last long as her complexion changed completely in a matter of seconds before these words left her mouth:

"ask me out, loser"

and that's just the push i needed.

"yn ln, be my girlfriend and take me to whatever place you got the fried chicken your lips tasted like!"

she giggled again- i swear a braincell of mine disappears every time she so much as smiled- stepping forward to hug me, which i happily accepted by the way…she smells good. she smells like a...fresh...teddy bear? yeah.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"i can't believe you actually like me back" i blurted out, watching as she stuck a chicken wing into her mouth. the sauce got on her face and i helped her wipe it off like the gentleman that i am.

"and i can't believe you confided in taesan, of all people!" her words were muffled as she chewed.

"whatever babe, now why don't you eat first and talk later"

she almost chokes as she stares at me with this bewildered look on her face. how could a person be so adorable? like? this???? this cutie??? SHES my girlfriend???!!!???

she speaks with half a drumstick in her mouth and her eyes were opened wide.

"DID YOU JUST CALL ME BABE?!"

lol.

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

LMAOOO idek wht i was going for in this one 😭 i pulled this straight out of my drafts tbh </3 reblogs n feedbacks r vv appreciated!! love u tysm for reading. love, kona.

[khuzena]

Just a coworker

Dr ratio x g/n!reader (i tried)

Part 1, Part 2

cw. angst, super slow burn, they eventually get tgt, hurf/comfort, jealousy brr, reader is unhinged, mentions of drugs, kinda cringe but who cares I've written worse, not proofread, dr ratio is a pussy

a/n: I HATE LIFE SJNAANAN

A week passed and you got the jist of it, you were already done with the basics but everytime that man always found a reason to keep tutoring you.

You were grading some papers until you felt someone looming over you and snooping around your laptop.

“Hey!”

“Do you really need to shout?”

You hid your laptop away from him as he pried for any more info, causing you to kick his leg.

“Who’re you talking to?”

“Why the hell would you care? Plus im grading some papers, you asshole”

You typed away as he didn't leave your side, just watching you input some values— damn one of your students got a 2/100? Might as well make them repeat a grade.

“Which idiot fails literature? More or less just essay writing?”

“Uh…”, you paused, your other hand getting your coffee and sipping on it, “An illiterate person?”

No other words were shared as you two just sat in silence, him staring at the grading sheet and you typing away on your keyboard.

…

It was a quiet day, peaceful even. If it weren't for a fight that broke out at the food court. You should mind your business, but your favourite student had been gravely injured; worry comes easy.

You ran to the student, one hand rested on his leg as it bled, “Hey, stay with me— breathe.”

Your student, Mike, had been buying some coke from some guy in your coworker’s class, turns out Mike got scammed and well, you did not know the full story to take any full action but the blood shed was enough to panic.

“Mike, Mike!”

You held him, you were not an expert at cpr or had any training on how to deal with that much bleeding or anything about dealing with concussions.

Shit, shit.

“We need a doctor!”

Despite your desperate yelling, none were brave to come forth to help, the others just recording or covering their eyes.

What were you supposed to do?

You held onto mike as the others tried to restrain the guy that hurt him, this was bad.

Until you saw Veritas buying some coffee at the new coffee shop from weeks ago.

“Hey you!”

Veritas does not flinch, he does not respond.

“DOCTOR VERITAS RA—”

He groaned, about to run away yet you yelling his full name was enough to make him regret not buying earplugs prior to this incident.

He walked up to you and your student as he kneeled at the both of you’s level.

“What exactly happened?”

No matter how much he hates you and your guts, he still has a duty as a doctor.

“Some asshole beat him up, fuckin’ hell”

He doesn't say anything, before laying Mike down in a more comfortable position and getting a pill from his pocket.

“What's that?”

“Tylenol”

He forced open Mike's mouth and shoving down a pill.

“Isn't that a tad bit aggressive?” Mike was near choking as you patted his back and elevated his seating position.

“So it's better to airplane the pill in his mouth like he's 2 and let him die then?”

“That's not what I meant.” you sneered before some guys from the medical department ran to your side and took care of it.

Now you two were just standing behind the infirmary door and waiting for any update.

“I'm going to miss my class because of you.”

You laughed, the audacity of this man?

“Then go, I didn't ask you to stay.”

It's so hard to read this man when he has his alabaster head on, you can't even tell what he's thinking.

“You talk too much”

“You started it!”

“Just stop talking”

“Whatever.”

You peaked through the window and saw Mike unconscious on his bed, even though it wasn't your fault, it feels like it is…

You sighed as the nurse left the room, standing still before she spoke, “He's fine. It's good that you and Dr. Ratio was there.”

“Uhh yeah…”

You really didn't do much…

Veritas stayed silent as the nurse left, he's not one to like small talk.

“huff… huff… finally.”

You raised an eyebrow, before registering whose voice it was, your eyes lighting up.

“Amir!”

“Whew… I had to end class early, I learned about what happened too late.”

“It's not your fault”

Amir sighed while leaning so ungodly close to you, before Veritas had some audacity left in him to make a comment, “Actually, it is.”, he really has no shame does he?

“I apologise.”

“Now you're just being rude.”

Veritas turned away, can't that man just leave you both alone?

“I don't care. It was both your student's that got into this mess.”

“I have over a hundred students, how could I monitor all of them?”

“Yet you still have to take responsibility for it. I can't believe you let it get to that level.”

“Then leave, if you're just gonna be rude then shut up.”

Amir's jaw hung when he heard you literally tell the Dr. Ratio himself to shut it, not even the people from the IPC would have this level of audacity. It was your last straw, you've already dealt with enough bullshit for the day.

Usually, he would have some snarky reply up in his sleeves but what's crazy is that he just walked away.

“Did you just—”

“I did.”

“Wow.”

—

You were already about to go home as it was getting late, who knew having to shoulder the aftermath of that fight would be that tiring? No shit sherlock.

Peace and quiet, no one to bother you—

“You there.” that familiar voice echoing in the hallways as loud stomps were nearing your direction.

You spoke too soon. Why him of all people?

“You didn't come to today's tutoring session.”

You crossed your arms, looking up at him. Wow. He wasn't wearing his alabaster head? Can't say that it's new but the opportunity to stare at his face was a rare occurrence. But, he infuriates you too much that you'd rather kiss mud than oogle at him.

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’? I was waiting for you.”

You eyed him up and down, he did look upset. But did he really think you'd have the energy to confront him, much less see him after what happened today?

“I told you I wouldn't be able to attend tutoring lessons as I have someone to tutor too”

“When did you say that?”

“Two days ago?”

He was baffled, utterly baffled. When did you say that? You must be lying. Despite his stone head obstructing you from any chance to see him right now, by his voice, he was fuming.

He crossed his arms, his right foot tapping aggressively, “I do not recall you saying that.”

“But I did.”, his eyebrows furrowed as you spoke with clear conviction, what do you mean you did?

“You should've told me.”

“I did.”

“Then— why are you being so difficult?”

“It's not me who's being difficult, why are you even mad?”

Like that, the words at the tip of his tongue vanished. Exactly, why was he so worked up?

“You're just using this as an excuse to not deal with the issue.”

You had enough of his bullshit. You started to walk the other way but he just couldn't leave you alone.

“And what if I am? Get lost.”

“We need to talk.”

You turned your heel and faced him, face red and hot then you pointed at him,

“About what? About how sure it's absolutely my fault about what happened today, I'm an idiot, I don't know anything!”

“Now you're just blowing the issue up into something completely different.”

“What else is there to say?”

“You—”

He got silent, biting his lip under that stone head as his temper got the best of him.

“You really are an idiot.”

…

“Just leave me alone.”

There were no other words exchanged as you walked away, your footsteps getting more faint as a second, another one and another pass.

He shook his head at your outburst, you really were an idiot, incompetent and… whatever. At least now that blabbermouth always peering over his shoulder is gone.

…

As you walked home, you couldn't help but cry. There was nothing to cry over but it was too much. The heads berating you for not paying attention to your students, that a scandal like that could ruin the university— to hell with that shit, to hell with that university.

At least you felt safe, at home, with the company of your cats.

“Meow?”

Ah.

You hugged your cat, its fur getting wet as tears dripped, you were starting to taste the saline tears as it creeped into the corners of your lips.

Your phone rang with notifications from the doctor, Wait— how'd he even get your number? shit. But god won't he just leave you alone?

With a click, the notifications died down leaving only your quiet sniffles and your cat’s purr to be heard in the living room.

You didn't have any energy to eat, to hell with your health.

You turned off the lights and plopped into your bed, your cat joining you (yay) as the soft glow of the lamp illuminated the room.

You let out a yawn, turning the lights off but there was a call notification.

‘From Unknown Number’

You felt the urge to swipe and listen to what he had to say, but it's probably bullshit.

You fell asleep.

[From Unknown Number.]

:hey.

:answer me.

:stop being so difficult and just give me 3 minutes.

:Are you there?

:idiot.

:hey.

[99 more unread messages]

…

Time flies, three days flew by already yet it still feels like yesterday. You feel like shit, yeah the issue has been resolved, everything's fine but why did something just feel so wrong?

It was a good rest though, bless that lady who allowed you to have a few days off.

[From Unknown Number]

:I know you're seeing this.

:Stop acting like a child.

:Come on.

:You moron.

[231 more unread messages]

…

Phew, when you entered the faculty room, there was no Veritas in sight. Good, good.

You laid down your satchel on your desk and readied some stuff before heading out, making sure to check all hallways before you make a move; don't want to see the Doctor so early in the morning. (checking every hallway 24/7? What is this? Fnaf?!?)

Things were uncannily peaceful today, did he not come to work today? Or… Maybe you just got really lucky that you both did not cross paths for today.

“And,” you wrote diligently on the whiteboard, “That ends our discussion for today.”

The time ticked to 4:58 pm, you could already see some of your students pack their things.

“Any questions?”

They all shook their heads no as you finally dismissed them, oh how you missed being in your classroom despite being away for merely 3 days.

Today's a lucky day, no issues, no Veritas Ratio in sight.

“Hey __”

You jolted at the sudden call of your name, your head turning from the sound as you see Amir with a worried expression.

“Oh, Amir?”

So suddenly, he pulled you into a hug.

“What're you doin—”

“I was worried.”

“About?”

“You were no contact with everyone for three days, we were all worried.”

You awkwardly laughed, Amir was a fine man, definitely not your type though. You squirmed away from his hold.

“Yeah, just needed a break”

“Oh, I see.”

He paused, “You good now?”, his tone laced with concern.

“Yeah, at least I think so.”

“That's good.”

Your best friend, he was not stupid. He was intuitive too, he eyed you like you were some sort of experiment and like with any experiment, he's made his hypothesis.

“You don't sound ‘good’”

“What do you mean?”

“Is this about Dr. Ratio?”

Bingo, right on the money. There was no use trying to lie to him, especially not after chuckling awkwardly when you got caught.

You nodded, confirming his guess, “Knew it.”

He was in deep thought as he tried to think of any and every possibility why.

“Are you guys dating or something?”

You choked on your own spit— him of all people? Is he out of his mind? At this point, the idea of getting with that socially inept man sounds like an insult.

“Are you trying to piss me off?”

“Calm down sponge bob squarepants, geez”

You groaned as he handed you a juice box. “Thanks,” you quietly muttered out.

…

It was 5 pm, by now, everyone's probably clocked out by now.

It's weird, a 5 pm where you don't get tutor lessons from him.

Whatever, food for thought.

As you left the faculty room, a small part in you wanted to catch a glimpse of him despite you trying to avoid him. Did you miss him? or was just not being alone at these hours too comforting?

He wasn't there. As expected.

…

The next day, you see Veritas, you two walk past each other, he did not spare you a glance.

“Doctor…”

Wind breezes through the both of you but you stood still as he kept walking to his class. How cold.

It was no use trying to confront him, atleast, not here.

For a second, your gaze softened but you quickly got back to your senses. This feeling was strange.

…

The bell rang and, as usual, everyone left. What a fulfilling job.

This week has been really quiet. Peaceful but something was missing. Your life was fun, not this mundane even before Veritas but a part of you looks for him. No no, you were just being insane or something.

The faculty room door slid open, then, just as you wished would never happen (oh really?) Veritas was at you guys’ usual tutoring spot.

You wanted to run but your bag was there. Mustering up the courage, you tiptoed and grabbed your satchel, it felt like playing a horror game with how stealthy you were trying to be.

Shit.

Your pen fell, hopefully it didn't catch his attention.

Just as you were about to go grab it, he took it and handed it to you.

You gulped and took the pen, wanting to run but you froze on the spot.

“You look stupid trying to act stealthy.”

You didn't reply, only gulping nervously as you stayed still.

“What? Say something.”

Truth is, you had nothing to say.

“Sigh, you really like making things so difficult, don't you?”

He doesn't stop you from leaving, but maybe it was you stopping yourself from leaving.

An awkward silence ensued, it was getting annoying, for him, atleast.

“Aren't you going to leave?”

You don't say anything, just standing still, again.

“Answer me.”

Why did you enter the room?

“...” Veritas walked up to you, his codex not in hand as leaned closer.

“Give me 3 minutes.”

He raised your chin with a finger, face unreadable despite his alabaster head gone. It's the third or fourth? You've lost count how many times you saw his real face. Your memory was shit.

“I just want to talk about how…”

He bit his lip, yet his eyes remained fixed on your blank expression.

“That I want to apologise for my behaviour last week.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

That same old silence, he couldn't find the right words, he doesn't know how to say sorry.

“Well…”

“Well?”

Did he stutter? That's odd; very.

“I…” His eyes leave yours, he's practised saying it but it's the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, “I'm…”

Curious eyes gaze into his conflicted ones. Can he even say it?

“So…” sorry.

“I'm sorry.”

You stare at him with shock, did he just apologise?

“Did I hear that right?”

“God damn it.”

He pulled away and walked away to his desk but you followed him, “Hey, did you mean it?”

“Why wouldn't I?”

He knew you'd react like this, he expected you to laugh, mock him or anything but you just look at him with a look of shock—

“I see.”

—And somewhat relieved of what he said.

“I'm sorry too.” He was envious of how easily you spoke those words, you were no genius, yet you were better than him at apologising.

“I shouldn't uh—”

“I just want to say that—”

You cleared your throat, licking your lips in anxiety, “You go first”

“No you—”

“No, you.”

He hung his head low, before looking in your direction.

“It was uncalled for me to treat you and that man that way.”

“I'm listening.”

“I didn't take into account that you both were probably stressed from the situation and…”

He couldn't find the words, nothing was new to him. Complex maths? Easy. Medicine? Easy. Philosophy? Done. History? Is this a joke? He knows everything!

Other than one thing.

“I'm sorry.”

Apologising.

His words brought you immense relief, it was your turn to speak. For the first time, you can read his face. He looked pitiful. Did he not get enough sleep lately?

“I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you.”

How could you just have the knack to be so… Human? That, he couldn't understand. Being genuine, felt new.

“I understand.”

…

“What now?”

He fixed his books on the shelf, the ones he wanted to share with you.

“I dont know.”

“I thought you knew everything?”

He rolled his eyes as you teased him for it, he shouldn't have apologised.

“Stop talking, and also.”

He handed you some wipes, what was it for?

“Your hand,” you looked down at your dominant hand, seeing whiteboard marker creases, “Clean it up.”

“Oh okay.”

You wiped the stains off, but you wondered how perceptive he was. You didn't even notice it yourself.

“How's the tutor lesson with your student?”

Ah, that guy. It's been long since you've finished tutoring him with the basics.

“Went smoothly, he passed his exam”

He hummed, he finished tidying up his desk, good that you listened to his lectures.

“What did you teach him?”

“Until just page 25”

“Huh?”

But you studied the entire book with him, if you just needed help with just page 25, the tutor session would've only taken a week.

“Did you just keep going to the tutor sessions to see me?”

“Maybe, maybe not”

A soft smile creeped up in your face as you saw him short circuit for a bit before regaining his senses.

“You jest”

“I do not.”

…

“So… When's the next session?”

“At my place, tonight. It's getting late.”

Oh? At his place? What a bold offer—

“Just reviewing?”

“Just reviewing.”

You laughed as he rolled his eyes, the two of you leaving the faculty room.

“Under one condition.”

You raised an eyebrow, what was he asking for now?

“A date.”

“Pardon?”

“Do I have to repeat myself?”

You choked on your spit, that's absurd— god.

“No, I heard you. Fine.”

“Agreeing that easily?”

“Do you want me to refuse?” He was starting to get cocky, might as well drag him back down to earth.

“No, you still need to learn more about Quantum Mechanics.”

“Fine.”

…

Veritas pulled you close to him as you both walked the sidewalk, isn't he such a gentleman?

“The tab's on you?” no way were you paying the tab, he better pay it.

He scoffed, he could feel you hold onto his arm as he made sure you were on the right side of the lane to protect you of some sort.

“Whatever, you moron. Hurry up, we still have so much to review.”

A/N: its so bad wtf😭😭😭😢

[the-weeb-of-the-uchiha]

You had just transferred to a new school, and everything felt different. Back at your old all-girls academy, you could get away with wearing cute outfits without anyone batting an eye. Being a total Sanrio girl didn’t hurt either. Today, you kept it simple but still true to yourself—pastel pink and white, topped off with your favorite Cinnamoroll hat with floppy ears.

When you walked into your advisory class, you immediately felt the stares. You did your best to ignore them and slid into an empty seat next to a guy with bright pink hair.

Pulling out your schedule, you stared at it like it was written in another language. None of the room numbers made sense. With a small sigh, you decided to ask for help and lightly tapped the guy’s shoulder.

“Excuse me? Do you know where 411C is?”

He turned to look at you, and for a second, you froze. He was wearing a My Melody jacket. No way. It felt like fate.

“I like your hat,” he said with a soft smile, reaching out to gently touch one of the floppy ears.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up.

“I like your jacket,” you added quickly, trying to return the compliment. “My Melody’s adorable.”

His smile widened. “Cinnamoroll, huh? You’ve got good taste. Are you new here?”

You nodded. “Yeah, just transferred. Honestly, I have no idea where any of these rooms are.” You held up your schedule helplessly.

He leaned over, glancing at the paper. “411C? Oh, that’s in the arts wing. I’ve got a class near there—I can show you after this if you want.”

Your shoulders relaxed. “That’d be awesome, thanks!”

“No problem,” he said, brushing some of his pink hair out of his face. “I’m Hyoma Chigiri, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Y/n,” you said, giving him a small smile.

“Y/n,” he repeated, testing it out. “Cute name. Kinda suits you.”

Before you could think of a response, the teacher walked in and started class. Chigiri leaned back in his seat, giving you a quick wink before turning to face the front.

The rest of the class dragged on, but you couldn’t focus. You kept sneaking glances at Chigiri—his laid-back vibe, that bright pink hair, the way he made you feel way less out of place in this new school.

When the bell finally rang, Chigiri grabbed his Hello kitty bag and turned to you. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, quickly stuffing your stuff into your bag.

As you walked down the hall together, he pointed things out along the way. “That’s the cafeteria. They’ve got some decent food, but the cupcakes are where it’s at if you’re into cute stuff. Oh, and there’s the library. Pretty quiet most of the time, but they’ve got a solid manga collection.”

“Seriously?” you asked, perking up.

“Yup. I can show you sometime if you’re into that.”

Before you knew it, you were standing outside the door to 411C.

“And here it is,” Chigiri said, throwing his arms out dramatically. “Welcome to your first class in the labyrinth that is this school.”

You laughed. “Thanks, Chigiri. You really saved me.”

“No big deal,” he said with a grin. “See you around, Y/n.”

As he walked away, you couldn’t stop smiling. Maybe this new school wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[icequeenliafics]

Jayvik Highschool AU - Part2

Context: Vi and Jayce plan a surprise bd party for Cait and flop HARD. The whole gang helps. JAYVIK! Chaos!

Jayce parked his car in the open garage of Viktor's house. He pushed the horn twice to let his friend know he had arrived, before killing the engine.

He pushed open the door of his car with a giddy smile on his lips, that tingly sensation buzzing in his stomach again. He was about to see Viktor and his body knew it.

Jayce didn't bother to shut the door when he climbed out of the car, instead walking to the little side-door, connecting the garage to the kitchen.

"I'm here!", he called as he stepped inside.

"So, I figured", Viktor said, standing by the counter, back turned towards Jayce as he studied some papers. "Hello, Jayce."

Jayce's smile only grew as he walked towards his friend with quick steps.

Viktor didn't even flinch when Jayce wrapped his arms around him from behind, gently resting his chin on his shoulder. He made sure to only rest the weight of his head onto Viktor, the rest of his body was carried by Jayce's own legs to not strain his friend's bad leg.

"You're studying?"

"Always", Viktor said, placing one hand on Jayce's arm, leaning into him like it was second nature. "Finals."

He sounded concentrated, his eyes skimming the notes from their last math class.

"You know you're allowed to take a break now and then", Jayce said, also skimming Viktor's notes now.

"Not if I want to score highest in class." Vik turned the paper, revealing his scribbly equations.

Jayce smiled when he found little drawings scattered all over the page. Viktor always let him doodle on his notes when Jayce got bored in class.

"Think you're done soon?", Jayce asked, finger absentmindedly tracing the back of Viktor's hand.

"Two minutes", Vik muttered, not looking up once.

Jayce sighed in defeat. "'Kay", he muttered, settling more comfortably against Vik's shoulder. "Wake me."

"M-hm.

Jayce huffed out a smile and closed his eyes.

This was nice; standing in the warmth of the kitchen with Viktor settled against his chest, a comfortable weight against him.

Jayce could hear Viktor breathing, the rhythm soft and even, and smelling faintly of honey.

Vik was muttering under his breath, repeating the equations on the paper and explaining to himself how he came to the right solutions. Explaining your calculation method was necessary in a test, in order to avoid point deduction.

Jayce felt more than comfortable listening to his friend's soft voice, his stomach filled with raging butterflies. He kinda wished they could just stay here like this.

"I'm done", Viktor said, leaning further back against him. "Wake up now, you are quite heavy."

"Sorry", Jayce muttered, pulling away and settling against the counter to face Viktor. "Did I strain your leg?"

Viktor grabbed his cane, giving him the side eye.

Jayce smiled knowingly. "You're fine, I get it."

"Sharp observation", Viktor said, turning to leave the kitchen, one hand on his cane, the other holding his notes. "Follow me."

"Where?", Jayce asked, pushing off the counter.

"My room", Viktor answered.

"You forgot something?" Jayce paced his steps so they matched Viktor's.

"No, but you came here for the fireworks, did you not?"

"Mostly I came here for you", Jayce said before he could stop himself, ears burning up immediately. "But the fireworks too, sure."

Viktor looked at him with a soft frown, studying his face. Jayce could feel the blood shooting to his face. Why was he so flustered today?!

He quickly averted his eyes, fingers scratching at the back of his neck.

He heard Viktor's gentle chuckle next to him, like he was amused by his weird behavior. Jayce wished for the ground to swallow him up.

The door to Viktor's room stood open, revealing walls cluttered in formulas and all kinds of tinkerings hanging from the ceiling, some of them made by Viktor, but most of them gifts from his parents.

When they were kids, Jayce loved to visit Viktor's home, because it meant they could play with his cool toys. The perks of having toymaker parents.

"They are under the bed", Viktor said, lifting the throw blanket with his cane, revealing the space under the bed stuffed to the brim with firework batteries.

Jayce's eyes grew big. "You slept on those?"

Viktor frowned. "Yes."

"Why?", Jayce asked with an incredulous look on his face. "Why couldn't you just put them into the garage?"

Viktor let the blanket fall down in order to stand more comfortably.

“Good idea”, he mused. “I could have just put the illegal fireworks into the garage, where my parents could have a good, long look at them.”

Jayce blinked. “But wouldn't your mom have seen them anyways? I mean, she was supposed to drive you today.”

Viktor pointed his cane at one corner of the room. “Open the wardrobe”, he said with a smirk.

Jayce frowned, doing as he was told. “What am I supposed to see?”, he asked when all he found inside were ironed shirts and sweaters.

“Behind the clothes”, Viktor said.

So, Jace brushed them aside, finding hidden away behind them almost a dozen rolls of wrapping paper.

He heard the familiar creak of Viktor's bed behind him as his friend sat down with a soft sigh.

“I originally planned to wrap up the batteries, so they would look like a present for Caitlyn”, Viktor explained.

Jayce turned around to look at him.

“What would you've told her if she asked what was inside?”

He didn't say it out loud, but a big present indicated a big price tag. Since Viktor's family wasn't too wealthy, it obviously would have raised questions.

Viktor shrugged, that attractive smirk still on his lips.

“That it was a present from you that you asked me to hide away, so Caitlyn would not find it at your place”, he said.

“That's … clever.”

Jayce's eyes wandered down to the throw blanket covering the fireworks. It made him nervous to know Viktor was sitting on them, but he restrained himself from making a fuss.

“And also kinda diabolical”, Jayce added. “Do you often lie to your parents?”

Viktor raised a brow at him and Jayce quickly lifted his hands. “Not judging, of course!”

Viktor let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “It does not do them any harm in this case, does it?”

Jayce's eyes wandered down to the blanket again, and he squirmed at the thought of half a dozen illegal firework batteries resting right beneath his best friend's butt.

“I guess not?” He was still staring at the blanket, switching from one foot to another.

“Just as it does not hurt them when I keep quiet about your occasional nightly visits through my window, right?”, Viktor asked, causing Jayce to look back up at him.

There was that smirk again, the slight quirk of his brow. Jayce felt his ears burn up, his body tingling with heat.

“Right”, he rasped, quickly averting his eyes.

And then, because he really wanted to change the subject and it was the only other thing he could think of: “Could you please not sit there? You’re freaking me out.”

Viktor frowned. “I should not sit on my own bed because it freaks you out?”

“Fireworks”, Jayce added quickly. “The illegal batteries under your bed?”

Viktor looked at him like he was speaking a foreign language.

“What, are you afraid my butt could light them up?”

Jayce refrained from answering that Viktor indeed had a really hot behind, but he managed to do so barely, his brain firing neurons too quickly to keep up.

“Please?”, he asked instead.

Viktor still didn't seem too worried about the potential explosions beneath him, but with a roll of his eyes and a soft sigh, he heaved himself up onto his cane.

“There, happy?”

“Very”, Jayce said with a grin that hopefully didn't look as nervous as he felt.

He forced himself to get past himself, walking towards his friend.

“Now move, so I can put these into the - what are you doing?”

Jayce's confused frown turned into a blush very quickly when Viktor lifted a hand to his face.

“Hold still”, Vik said unnecessarily.

Jayce was frozen on the spot.

He felt heat shoot into his cheeks at the gentle touch of Viktor's fingers against his brow, pressing down ever so softly as if to wipe something away.

When he pulled back, he kept standing right there in front of Jayce - When had he come this close? - inspecting the purple smudge on the tip of his finger.

“What is it?”, Viktor asked, looking up at Jayce with his beautiful amber eyes.

Air. What was air?

“Cake frosting”, he rasped, his lungs denying him.

His heart - oh god, his heart! Jayce could feel it pounding against his ribcage. Could Viktor hear it too? Oh no, could he?

If yes, he didn't show it, simply looking back down at the frosting and then -

Jayce's mind blanked for the fracture of a second.

Why? Because he was a teenage boy and as such he was only so strong, okay?

He watched in slow motion as Viktor lifted his finger to his mouth, lips wrapping around its tip, cheeks hollowing out the slightest bit as he sucked off the frosting.

Jayce's ears were buzzing as his heart picked up its rhythm again, pumping blood through his system.

Somewhere in the back of his brain Jayce had the decency to feel ashamed. That still didn't keep him from staring when the tip of Viktor's tongue darted out to chase the taste off his lips.

“Blueberry?”

Viktor looked up at him and Jayce's brain came back online.

“Huh?”

“The cake”, Viktor said, one corner of his mouth wandering up. ��Is it blueberry?”

Jayce swallowed, still very captured by his best friend's lips.

“M-hm.” He tore his eyes away with quite some force. “Cupcakes, actually.”

His voice sounded way too thin. Jayce cleared his throat, his heart still beating up to his chin.

“Well, they are quite tasty”, Viktor said, and there was still that smirk. “Now the question is, how did they get onto your face?”

Jayce forced himself to look him in the eyes, those burning amber eyes.

“Accident”, he said, his voice more firm this time. “You’ll see what I mean.”

Viktor raised a brow.

+

Part1

Another snippet of the Oneshot. Hope you had fun reading!✨

[sarah-scara]

Cold Sloan Creamery

A charming cutie steals your attention at your boring coffee-shop job. Turns out they've got a food service gig as well - a much sweeter one. Modern AU.

Another experiment I did with first-person stuff. Sex is alluded to but not present. Word count: 2253. Enjoy!

Five A.M. Entirely too early to be doing anything, let alone having to drag myself into work for another day; yet here I was, miserably reading the back of a shampoo bottle in the shower. Mornings like this, I would idly wonder if it was worth quitting my job. Technically, I could probably survive college without it if I took out more loans. There were benefits to working at a coffee shop as well. I just had to push through it.

I turned off the water and grabbed a towel. Working on campus was pleasant at least, even on the weekends it felt like I was part of a community. I had a few regulars I knew and enjoyed talking to. I was hyping myself up as I dried myself off, hoping to make the day a little less miserable. It worked slightly, as I was at least able to muster up the energy to get ready and make it there.

The lights were already on, and I mumbled “good morning”s to my coworkers as I kept preparing myself mentally for the day ahead. I made myself a small coffee - one of the perks of the job was a free drink per shift, and I needed it now - and drank it entirely too quickly for something that hot. With that, I was finally ready to start the drudgery of commerce. It was Saturday, so there was no rush of people coming to class, but there were still a few customers. Just get into the groove, it’ll be fine. I thought to myself.

I was able to dissociate and lose myself in filling orders and making drinks, and by the time I looked at the clock again I had made it to eleven. Not too bad so far, just a few hours to go. The next customer came up, looking a bit frazzled, and I couldn’t help but notice how cute they were. Cute brown hair, an eyebrow piercing, a dazzling smile - they had it all. And they would have their caramel latte with extra whipped cream they ordered in that beautiful high-energy voice.

They took their drink and sat themselves on one of our tables, pulling out a laptop festooned with stickers. A few pride stickers, including a nonbinary flag in a cute heart, as well as a litany of representations of historic places. A column from the Parthenon, a pyramid from Giza… this was clearly someone who was well versed in the wonders of the world. Exploring sounded nice right about now, trapped in work. At least it was lunchtime. Maybe I should talk to them? No, that was weird. I took another small coffee - one small coffee plus another still added up to one free drink, right? - and sat down at a table near enough to the mysterious cutie without being so close that I’d be anxious. It didn’t work. I was still anxious, hearing them tap-tap-tap away at their keyboard. I hadn’t had an infatuation this powerful or instant in a long time, and it had me sweating.

“Howdy!” They’d directed their attention to me. I was careful not to get my hopes up, but there was an outside shot that this was my chance. “That latte was really good. You seemed kinda down so I figured I’d uh, swing by?” They had taken their laptop over to my table, and were smiling that adorable chipped smile at me again. 

“Oh, thank you.” I said. Don’t fumble now, I thought to myself. “I was just thinking about an assignment I have due next week.”

They nodded. “Ugh, I feel that. I was actually working on a paper about the classical structures of Rome, which I love, but the writing still gets to me.”

“That sounds unique. What degree is that for?”

Their eyes lit up and they started to ramble a bit. “Archaeology! It’s been one of my favorite topics… well, my whole life! It’s been so fun to study. Still not into the writing though.” They sighed. “I wish I could get out of the classroom and out into the field, but digsites won’t take you without the degree. Lame.”

“Where are you hoping to get to work at once you get the degree?”

They paused for a moment in thought, then continued with their mile-a-minute responses. “I mean my favorite place in the whole world is Cairo, and I’d love to get to find an undiscovered part of the Pyramids, but I worry that staying in one place will mean I miss out on all the other places I could explore! I guess my answer is that I want to travel a lot? It would certainly be better than now, where the farthest I travel is from my dorm to the gym.”

Their figure did look as if they were into working out - not too much, but they certainly looked like an arm wrestling contest with them would not be particularly close. Hot. Averting my eyes, I checked my watch. Three minutes left on my lunch break. “Well, I’ve gotta get back to work. It was really nice talking to you…” I realized I hadn’t got their name.

They realized too. “I’m Sloan! Nice to meet you too! Hopefully I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah! Best of luck on your paper. When in Rome and all that.”

They stuck their tongue out playfully as they packed up their laptop, and left with a wave. I spent the rest of my shift hoping I’d see them again soon. That said, I think I was the only one who was going to drink two coffees in one day, so I guess it’d have to wait…

---

Two P.M. I was finally free from my job for the day. Most of the time, I only worked weekends, so in a way I was already halfway through the week. Despite this, I was still willing to spend a bit to get myself a little treat. A new ice cream shop had opened near campus, and it did sound relaxing to get a cone and relax in the courtyard in the summer sun. 

A small bell rang on the door as I entered, and I heard a surprisingly familiar voice greet me. “Welcome to Lindholm’s Ice Cream, where sweet treats are always…” They trailed off. “It’s you! Hello!” Sloan was there, on the job, dressed in a cute but admittedly somewhat tacky red and white striped outfit adorned with a hat and bowtie.

“You work here? I promise this is a coincidence.” I said sheepishly.

“Aw shucks, I mean you’re allowed to come visit just for me.” They said with a grin. “What can I get ya?”

“Oh, um…” My order was suddenly gone from my mind, lost in their eyes. “Whatever you recommend? Dealer’s choice.”

“Not something I hear often, but I can dig that.” They said, getting a scoop out and taking a hunk of pink dessert. “This one’s a simple combination I like. Strawberry and vanilla.”

“That sounds good. Thanks!” As they took the second scoop and placed it into a cone, I took the treat. “Is it alright if I hang out here? I’m not sure how busy you guys get.”

“Of course you can! As for business…” They put their hands on their cheeks in exaggerated disappointment. “You’re the first customer we’ve had today. I don’t know if the owner doesn’t do any advertising or what, but it gets pretty boring.” They perked back up a bit. “I still get paid the same either way, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“So how long have you worked here?” I asked, taking a spoonful of ice cream. The strawberry flavor was really refreshing after today.

“Like a month. It’s honestly not that bad. Nobody comes in, so I’m not bothered. Plus, they let me mess around with my own uniform for, uh, gender reasons. Let me wear this snazzy bowtie.” They stepped out from behind the counter with their own ice cream and sat down across from me.

“This is good! My compliments to the scooper.”

“‘Course! My taste is always good.”

---

The next few weeks, stopping by the ice cream shop on days when Sloan was working became something of a ritual. It was always nice to give them some company, chat about what was going on in our respective classes, and just… soak in their energy. Their bright smile, their cheery laugh, even down to their regularly changing nail polish, they just exuded positivity and light. Soon, they started coming to get more coffee more regularly, and we spent my breaks there talking as well. It turned my feelings on work around to know I’d get to see Sloan around midway through the day.

It was about a month before during one of our conversations over ice cream that I noticed Sloan was acting kind of strangely. Their eyes wouldn’t quite meet mine, their hands trembled a bit as they served out our desserts, and they nervously tapped their fingers on their side. They sat down across from me, eyes staring straight at their ice cream. There was no one else in the store, as usual - I’d seen maybe two other customers in the last month. 

“You okay, Sloan?”

“Yeah. Yeah!” Their downward gaze still didn’t change. They muttered under their breath. “¡Demonios!”

“If something’s bothering you, I’m happy to listen. Professor being a jerk again? Argument with someone?”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” They breathed in deeply. “Could you come with me to the back for a second?”

“I know I come in here a lot, but I don’t actually work here.” I said with a laugh.

“It’s fine, nobody else will come in anyway.” They grabbed my hand and practically dragged me to the storeroom in the back.

“Did you need me to like, do inventory?” I said, befuddled.

“Will you go out with me?” They said, finally meeting my gaze. “I know this is sudden, but I just can’t stop thinking about you.”

I stood stunned for a moment, overwhelmed by what had just happened.

“This was a bad idea. I knew it. I’m sorry. I don’t want to cause trouble-”

“Of course, Sloan!” I interrupted. “I’d love to, I just - I’ve thought about this for so long, ever since we first met. I was just afraid to ask too.”

Sloan smiled, a big grin showing off their chipped tooth, and pulled me into a hug. “Thank you. Thank you so much!” They mumbled into my shoulder. It was so comforting, their frame wrapped around me, the warmth of their body making the momentary anxiety fade away, their eyebrow piercing shining in the light, their goofy paper hat sliding off as they leaned into me.

“Do we need to go back out front? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Nobody’s going to show up, and I want to go further. I need you.” They cupped my face in their hands.

“Okay. Take the lead then.”

Sloan took a moment to summon their usual optimism and courage, freeing themselves from their earlier fear; then, they pulled my face in for a kiss. Their lips gave in to mine with ease, and I melted into their embrace. I could taste a hint of sweetness on them. They reached an arm around me and gently lifted me, letting me fall deeper in. This was bliss. My tongue met theirs and my mind started to go blank. The rest of the world seemed to fade out; I was focused on them exclusively.

After an amount of time - I couldn’t tell how much - we pulled apart a bit, still in an embrace but not quite as close. “Still doing good?” Sloan panted out.

“So good.” I said. “If you want to go farther I’m willing.”

Sloan thought for a second, then shook their head. “Not here. That’ll have to wait for after my shift. I don’t want to get THAT much in trouble with my boss.”

I laughed, managing to get to my feet. They did as well, and I helped them smooth out their uniform to try to hide the evidence of our little escapade. Their hair was well mussed from my hands grasping through it, so I attempted to fix it. With a few brushes of my hand in a more orderly fashion, it almost worked. 

Sloan took out their phone to look at themselves. They laughed too. “Sloan Cameron, back in action, baby!” They mimed finger guns at me.

Clutching my heart in faux pain, I blew them a kiss and headed back out to the front. Just as they predicted, the ice cream shop was barren. “Looks like your job’s safe, Sloan.”

“Of course! You didn’t doubt me, did you?” They said. 

As the flood of emotions faded from me, I suddenly started to notice one thing that I can’t believe I hadn’t up until now. I was freezing. “How cold is it back there?” I said, starting to shiver.

“It’s an ice cream freezer! I’m just used to it.” They said with a smirk. “I’ve got an idea, though…” They threw their jacket at me. “Just bring it back to me later! I just keep it here just in case, I’m not using it much anyway. It’s hot out.” Grabbing a scrap of paper, they quickly scrawled in messy handwriting a note and handed it to me. It was their dorm room, their phone number, and a heart. “See you soon!”

[wordsmithwhumpsandfluff]

Overworked male character of your choosing got stomach flu when he's at work please? Thank you ♥️

Anon: Can I request a story where one of the characters got the stomach flu and got it really bad. They have a really high fever and are out of it and negative, and they don't want to eat or drink anything and they just want comfort, but everything that touches them hurts them and they're just emotional and in pain. P.S. LOVEEEEE YOUR WRITING ❤️

Oml, y’all have no idea how long this second request has been in my inbox… Since last YEAR!!

Kinda ironic that the ask attached to this fix is my most recent 😅

Anyway, enjoy this lovely mix of my oldest and newest requests!!!

————————————————————————————————-

All day, Oliver had been feeling. . . off.

From the moment he woke up, he just felt weird.

He was too tired to put together one of his simple-yet-cute outfits. He wound up—for the first time since high school SAT season—simply putting on a t-shirt and his largest pair of sweatpants. He even threw on a hoodie because he just felt chilly.

He still went to class, despite how he was feeling. He just had too much work to do and couldn’t risk skipping classes just because of a bit of tiredness.

Thirty minutes into his professor’s lecture, his head started pounding. His brain throbbed in his skull during all of his classes.

His last class was expository writing, and he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his seat.

Oliver was the last one out of the classroom. His backpack was full and heavy on his back, so he was carrying three of his books. He was practically swaying on his feet as he walked out of the building and to the parking lot.

He was driving back to his apartment, when he suddenly remembered he’d left several important assignments at Isaac’s place.

He groaned as he turned his car around. He wanted nothing more than to go home and fall asleep, but he needed to finish those assignments and turn them in. He had so much to do and so little time to do it all.

Isaac’s place wasn’t far from campus or his apartment, so he got there pretty quickly.

When Oliver got to Isaac’s apartment, it was late (the price of Oliver’s last class being a very late one) and he had no idea if Isaac was asleep or not since Isaac sometimes decided to sleep early. When he unlocked the door with his key and saw that the place was completely dark, he realized Isaac was asleep.

He thought about just getting his stuff later, but he was here now so he might as well just grab it and go.

Oliver shut the door quietly behind himself and tried to be as silent as possible as he made his way to Isaac’s living room where his stuff was.

As he was gathering his papers into his arms, a wave of dizziness hit him so hard that he had to lean against the couch to keep from collapsing.

Suddenly, his stomach felt like it was churning. Knowing what was about to happen, Oliver stumbled away from the couch, dropping his stuff on it, and ran to Isaac’s kitchen where he bent over the sink and retched loudly before vomiting.

He puked once. Then twice. And suddenly, the lights came on.

“Olive?” Isaac said. He was in his pajamas, but he didn’t look like he’d just been woken up.

When Isaac realized the state Oliver was in, his eyes widened and he cursed, hurrying to the kitchen and Oliver’s side. “Olive, what the hell—?”

Oliver dry heaved a couple times before spitting into the sink and mumbling, “I came over to grab my assignments. I thought you were asleep.”

“I was brushing my teeth,” Isaac said. Then he brought a hand to cup Oliver’s forehead, and he cursed again. “You’re burning up, baby.”

Oliver sighed as he closed his eyes and leaned into Isaac’s touch.

“Have you been sick all day? Did you go to your classes?”

Oliver opened his mouth to answer, but he only ended up puking again, bending further over the edge of the sink. The marble pushed against his stomach and brought up another stream of bile.

After puking for what seemed like forever, Oliver was finally empty. But he still felt nauseous and continued to dry heave.

“Olive, you’re done. You’re empty,” Isaac soothed, rubbing a gentle and steadying hand between Oliver’s shoulder blades.

“‘M sorry,” Oliver groaned.

Isaac smiled softly. “Don’t apologize. C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

Oliver finally looked up at his boyfriend. “I should get home,” he said. “I have to finish a lot of work, and I have to study and— and—” He couldn’t finish the sentence before another wave of dizziness crashed into him like a bus, and he swayed dangerously on his feet.

Isaac quickly steadied him and wrapped his arms around him. “Yeah, hell no. You’re staying here tonight.” And with that, he bent down and hooked an arm under Oliver’s knees, picking him up bridal style. Oliver was as small and skinny as ever. He was light and Isaac easily carried him over to his bedroom and laid him on the bed, tucking him under the sheets.

“Isaac,” Oliver groaned. “I’m serious. I have a lot of work to do, and—”

“You have plenty of time to do your work, Mr. Perfectionist. Right now, you’re sick. Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

Oliver watched his boyfriend run out of the bedroom. When he came back, he had an armful of stuff.

“Okay,” he said, setting the stuff down on his bedside table. He picked up a thermometer and sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at Oliver. “Under the tongue,” he said, holding the thermometer up to Oliver’s mouth.

Oliver opened his mouth and Isaac slipped the thermometer in. He stroked Oliver’s hair sweetly until the thermometer beeped. He took it from Oliver’s mouth and sighed when he saw the high number. He put the thermometer back onto the side table and grabbed a bottle of water and some medicine.

“Here,” he said, holding up the two pills and the water. Oliver sat up and swallowed the pills with the water before lying back down. Isaac set the water bottle down before going around the bed and climbing in next to his ill boyfriend.

Instantly, Oliver scooted closer to Isaac.

In response, Isaac pulled Oliver close to his chest. He could feel the heat rolling off him, and he worried even more, but he didn’t say anything. It didn’t take long for Oliver to fall asleep. Isaac fell asleep soon after.

— — —

At 2am, Isaac woke up freezing.

It took him a minute to realize all the blankets had been pulled off of him. It took him another minute to remember that Oliver was there.

He sat up and blinked sleepily at his shivering and pale boyfriend. Oliver had taken all the blankets, but he was still trembling.

Isaac pressed a hand to Oliver’s cheek and drew back instantly from the raging heat of his boyfriend’s skin. He was on fire!

“Shit,” he whispered, getting out of bad as quickly and quietly as he could and hurrying out of the bedroom. “Shit shit shit!”

Isaac got a hand cloth from the kitchen and wet it with cold water. He hurried back into the bedroom and carefully peeled the blanket away from Oliver. Then he gently but hastily shook Oliver’s shoulder. “Olive, baby, c’mon—baby, wake up. Wake up.”

Oliver groaned, but his eyes opened into thin, blinking slits.

“Hey, baby,” Isaac whispered.

Oliver wined and curled up onto his side in response. “My head hurts,” he mumbled in a weak voice.

Isaac sat on the edge of the bed again. “I know, baby. I know.” He took the hand towel and draped it on Oliver’s forehead. Oliver let out a pained whine in response to the sharp coldness.

“It’s okay, Olive,” Isaac whispered. “You’re okay. I know it feels uncomfortable, but the cold will help.”

Though Isaac didn’t think it was possible, Oliver started to shiver even more, despite the fact that it felt as if his skin had been lit on fire.

Isaac had no idea what else to do but wipe the cold cloth along Oliver’s face and neck. Isaac had to re-cool the towel a few times.

It was too late at night to call Keiko, which was the usual go-to option he and all their friends had when one of them was sick or hurt.

After re-cooling the towel for the fifth time, it was morning. Sunlight was just barely starting to peek through his blackout curtains, and Isaac quickly shut off his phone because he knew his alarm would go off any minute and he didn’t want to bother Oliver with his loud alarm that plays “Party in the USA” when it went off.

Oliver’s hair was damp and plastered to his sweat-slick forehead. The cloth didn’t seem to be doing anything, and Isaac only had one other idea of what to do.

“Baby,” he whispered, gently shaking Oliver awake again. “Baby, you need to get up. I need to get you to the bathroom—your skin is way too hot.”

Oliver groaned and tried to bury his face in his pillow, but Isaac was pulling him up into a seated position.

The world felt like it was tilting, and Oliver couldn’t even support his own head up. He was vaguely aware that he was moving, but he wasn’t walking, was he?

No, he definitely wasn’t. Someone was carrying him.

Suddenly, a light came on and Oliver winced, even though his eyes were closed.

Before he knew it, he was set down on a very cold tile floor. He opened his eyes and looked up at the person still supporting him even though he was sitting. “Isaac?” he mumbled. “What’s happening? It’s cold—”

“I know,” Isaac said, crouching down and peeling off Oliver’s sweaty clothes. Being naked only made him shiver uncomfortably. “But your fever is really high, and I need to cool you down.”

Before Oliver could completely register the words, he heard the squeak of the shower handle, and he couldn’t help but cry out in pain when the cold water hit him.

His teeth chattered and he shook horribly from the icy temp. Isaac continued to whisper soothing words while he touched Oliver’s cheeks and neck with cold, wet hands. The cold felt painful to Oliver. He even started to cry. Horrible, heart-breaking cries.

“It’s okay,” Isaac whispered. “I know it feels horrible, but it’ll be over soon. Just a little longer, baby.”

Oliver’s small sniffs turned into full on sobs and Isaac pulled Oliver into a hug, despite the cold water that started to pelt him and his clothes as well.

When Isaac turned the water off, they were both drenched, but Oliver was more soaked and shaky than Isaac.

Isaac grabbed a towel and wrapped Oliver in it. He dried off Oliver’s face and hair. The long, black strands stood at different, odd angles when he pulled the towel away.

Oliver was still crying softly. He was still sitting on the floor of the shower, so Isaac scooped him up and sat him on the toilet seat to finish drying him off as much as he could.

“I’ll get you some dry clothes,” Isaac said, crouching so he was at eye level with his boyfriend. “I’ll be right back.”

Oliver didn’t want Isaac to leave him alone, but he didn’t say anything as his sweet boyfriend left the bathroom.

It was only minutes before Isaac came back with fresh clothes in his hands. He helped Oliver out of the wet clothes, cooing as Oliver started trembling like a kicked wet puppy. The poor boy was still too out of it to even blush at the fact that his boyfriend was seeing him naked for the first time ever.

Once Oliver was in a clean t-shirt and shorts, Isaac once again lifted him. Oliver shut his eyes, trying to hide his face in the blonde’s chest as he was brought out to the living room. Isaac set Oliver on the couch, smoothing wet hair away from his face. “I’ll be right back,” he promised. “I just have to change the sheets real quick.” He left, and Oliver closed his eyes. He still felt awful, and his head wouldn’t stop pounding.

Isaac came back after several minutes, accidentally startling Oliver just as he was starting to doze off. Isaac, instead of picking Oliver up again, sat beside him on the couch, petting his hair with a concerned look. While gone, he’d changed out of his wet clothes too, and was wearing a different pair of pajamas, this one with pineapples printed all over it.

“Hey,” the blonde said softly. “Want some pomegranate tea? I’ll put extra honey in it, just like you like it.”

Oliver shook his head, eyes lowering to the floor. He leaned into the hand petting his hair, prompting Isaac to start gently massaging and scratching his scalp.

”What about soup instead? Or some fruits? You threw up quite a lot last night. You should eat something if you can hold it down.”

Again, Oliver shook he’s head. 

Isaac frowned leaning forward, and pressing a lingering, loving kiss to Oliver’s forehead. He was also checking how warm Oliver was, and though he didn’t feel as bad as he did before, it wasn’t much better. He pulled back and put his palm over Oliver’s forehead instead. “You’re still really warm. Maybe at least chew on some ice for a bit? It could—”

”Stop,” Oliver sighed, leaning to rest his forehead on Isaac’s shoulder, pressing his cheek against Isaac’s chest. Isaac realized that he was still shivering horribly.

Isaac let out a sigh, reaching for a blanket draped over the arm of the couch and forcing Oliver to sit up for a second so he could wrap it around him. Isaac pulled his cocooned boyfriend back against him, hugging Oliver tightly.

For about thirty minutes, Isaac stayed like that, hugging his feverish and sleeping boyfriend. 

Finally, when Oliver stirred awake, he pulled the blanket off of his head and looked up at Isaac. “Hey” he said in a sleepy voice.

”Hey,” Isaac replied softly, smiling a bit with his brows still slightly pinched. “How’re you feeling? A little bit better?”

Oliver nodded a bit, blinking heavily. “What time is it?”

Isaac pulled his phone out of his pajama pocket and read the time. “7:59,” he said.

Abruptly, Oliver’s eyes widened, and he seemed to fully wake up. Even though the feverish glaze never left his eyes and he was painfully pale. “Crap. I have to go,” he said anxiously. “I have, like, three assignments due today, and my first class is in thirty minutes. . .” Oliver tried to free himself from the cocoon, but between his exhaustion, his fever, and Isaac not letting go of him, he was forced to stay put.

“Whoa, chill,” Isaac said gently. “You’re not going to class today. You’re way too sick.”

Oliver looked at Isaac with wide, anxious eyes. “But—”

“Olive, you work too hard as it is. Don’t push yourself like this; especially not through such a nasty bug.”

Oliver felt his cheeks starting to heat, and he pouted. “My workload isn’t too bad. I just need to—”

“Baby, you’re taking eleven courses. And you’re on the college’s newspaper. I’ve told you before that you need to lighten your load; you work way too much, and you stress yourself out. I know you’ve always wanted to be one of the greatest journalists of all time, but you need to let yourself relax before you drive yourself crazy. And you need to relax now so you can get over this bug.”

Oliver didn’t deny anything Isaac said, because he knew it was all true. But he had to work hard. He wanted to be a writer at The New York Times. He wanted to become famous for his articles. He had to work harder and harder. He had too much to do and not enough time.

“One day, Olive,” Isaac said, running his fingers through his boyfriend’s longish black hair. “Just let yourself relax for oneday, please. After that, we can stress about your insane workload together. We can study together all night, every night, and not get any sleep while we work like our lives depend on it. Okay?”

For a moment, Oliver was silent. Then he smiled and laughed. Something about Isaac’s words just seemed so funny to his fever-cooked brain. And then Isaac started to chuckle, too.

When they both finished laughing, Isaac leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Oliver’s lips. “I love you,” he said.

Oliver pulled back a bit. “Don’t kiss me on the mouth; you’ll get sick!”

Isaac grinned, rolling his eyes and using the hand still tangled in Oliver’s hair to pull him forward for another kiss. “Like I care.”

[donniesbabygirl28]

≀➸ ❥ 𝘪 Wanna be yours .‧₊°

Dallas didn't know why he wanted to be yours exactly.

Wanna be your vacuum cleaner.

Maybe it's the butterflies he got anytime he saw you.

Maybe it was the way you made his heart jump.

Breathing in your dust.

Your voice, your laugh.

"Dally- You are so stupid!" You laughed as you watched Dal run down the street, being chased by 3 dogs.

He could look at you for hours and hours.

He didn't care what he had to do to be with you.

That includes rushing all his tests earlier so he can meet you in the hallways at school, or ditching his other class friends to skip school for the parking lot of Dairy Queen.

Even if you scold him, which you do every time he rushes his tests, he wouldn't care because he gets to see you right in front of him 5 minutes earlier.

"Dal, I told you this. You don't have to rush your tests everytime you see me out the door window. You're gonna make a bad grade." you say, flicking his nose softly.

"So? It ain't your grade, it's my grade and i'll do whatever the hell I want with it." he let out his goofy laugh, making you smile. It does every time.

Everyone can see it.

And no matter how much Dallas WInston tries to deny his love for the girl he grew close with, everyone can see the eyes he gives you when you walk into the room.

"Dal, you are whipped." Two-bit joked as h took a sip of his beer right as you walked into the house.

"I am not- hey y/n. Lemme help you with that" He says, immediately getting up to grab stuff from your hands.

He loves sitting in the car on rainy nights, with you right in the passenger seat "lookin' pretty" Which is what he tells Johnny.

I Wanna be your Ford Cortina.

I will never rust.

"She's so pretty, man. I just- how did I get to be the person she trusts the most? I mean just look at me and look at her. She's perfect" He says, taking a drag before passing the freshly lit cigarette to Johnny.

"Wow, Dal. I never knew you thought of her like that." He laughed slightly.

You call the shots, babe.

I just wanna be yours.

"yeah, and if you tell 'er I'ma kick your ass. I mean it Johnny. You can't tell 'er." he threatened as Johnny just nodded, throwing his hands up in playful defense.

Secrets I have held in my heart.

Are harder to hide than I thought.

He couldn't help but get the jitters when you looked at him with a bright smile as you ran down the hallway when you finally saw your brunette friend, hugging him tightly.

The way his cheeks would turn pink anytime you made a flirty comment.

"Oooh Look at you handsome~ Whatcha lookin' so fine for today sir~?" you flirted playfully as you got in his car, as he always picks you up before school.

"Oh come on, now. I look the same as always." he said, avoiding your stare at his sweats and band t- shirt.

Lies.

He put on a different outfit that day, maybe it was because it was the first day of sophmore year. Or maybe it was because he wanted to be yours.

Maybe I just wanna be yours.

"And what about you, doll? What'd you get so dressed up for?" He asked, starting to drive off.

"Why for you, my love~" You laughed, leaning your head back before turning up the radio.

He couldn't help but feel all warm and fuzzy.

Hold your hair in deep devotion.

At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean.

I wanna be yours.

He loved seeing you at school.

You are really the only reason he goes.

He always looks forward to your hugs in the hallways as his friends pat his back as he trys to tell them "It's not like that".

But he wants it to be like that.

He wants to hold you close and tell you how pretty you are.

"You look really pretty today-" He says as he shifts in his spot, nervously playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

He wants to be closer to you in every way.

He wants to hold your hand as you two walk around Tulsa, Oklahoma.

"Dally, you okay?" You ask as he stares at his paper.

"Yeah doll. Just kinda mad about my grade."

You laughed.

"Well I told you not to rush. You know i'll be waiting for you every time you walk out those doors. What kind of person would I be if I wasn't walking down the hallways with my cutie friend to protect me." You smile, rubbing his back gently as his face turned a slight tinted pink.

He wanted to tell you how much he adored your smile, your company- he wanted to tell you how much you mean to him and how much he wanted to just kiss you until the world ended.

How much he wanted to protect you.

"Um, sorry i'm not interested." You spoke at a boy as he tried to swoon you in the hallways.

"Why not? I can give you everything you want, love." He said, grabbing your hand tightly.

"She said she's not interested. So beat it." Dal said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

How much he wanted to listen to music with you as he drove the car around town at night, not really having anywhere to go.

"Doll, there's something I gotta tell you" He said, tapping the steering wheel slightly as he looked at you. The rain was pouring down, thankfully the top was up.

"Of course, you can tell me anything." He was lovestruck and got distracted as you flashed him a bright smile that you only seemed to wear for him.

He stayed silent as you waited for him to speak, looking at him, not once looking away.

"Um, well you see its kinda hard to tell you this but-"

This caused you to panic.

"You don't wanna be my friend anymore don't you." You said, wanting to start sobbing already.

"Oh no of course not, doll. I love being your friend. It's just, i kinda like someone."

You audibly gasped and turned to look at him again.

"A girl?! Oh my God tell me everything! What does she look like? Smell like? Sound like?"

He laughed at you slightly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well she's really pretty and um we have a few classes with her. She smells like very nice perfume, and she has a beautiful smile." He says, looking down at his shoes.

"Aw that's so sweet. What's her name?"

Secrets I have held in my heart.

Are harder to hide than I thought.

Maybe I just wanna be yours

He unbuckled his seatbelt, leaning over the center console and pulling you into a passionate kiss.

"I wanna be yours" He said, looking at you with love and affection.

"Then be mine." You smiled, kissing his cheek, making him smile brightly as he was finally yours.

[bgomtori]

16 : jealousy? maybe..

prev | masterlist | next

written + smau !!

note: y/n gets slightly jealous, bad english.. 😭😭

as the teacher was going around the class to collect the exam scripts, you quickly stretched your aching body. who decided that it was a good idea for you guys to sit quietly, in a room for 1 hour and 50 minutes to do two math papers. for what seemed like forever, the invigilator was finally done counting the number of exam scripts, and dismissed the entire class. everyone groaned, expressing how tired they were and quickly went to their friends.

" y/n! " you turned around to see chaewon's dumbfounded look, already predicting on what she's about to say.

" WHY WAS THE PAPER SO HARD THIS YEAR. I SWEAR WHEN I FIND OUT WHICH TEACHER CREATED THE PAPER, IM GONNA GO RAMPAGE ON THEM BRO. IM ACTUALLY GOING TO LOSE IT. IM GOING TO FAIL, LIKE ACTUALLY. " chaewon whined, shaking you around. you felt that everyone was staring at you two with a weird look, you quickly apologised to the surrounding classmates, and shushed chaewon,

" shut up bro, you're so loud. at this point if you pass it'll be a miracle. " chaewon stared in disbelief,

" are you calling me stupid right now. " she folded her arms, you quickly packed your bags and bidded goodbye to chaewon before she could start physically abusing you.

you walked down the hallways towards beomgyu's classroom, pushing pass the crowd. you stared at the sign that had beomgyu's class on it, slowly peeking into the classroom. you noticed that the class was empty except for beomgyu and another girl. the girl was pissing you off, she was practically giving your man heart eyes!!! unbelievable. you decided to stay civil, not wanting to create a scene, and waited outside, staring at your phone, listening into their conversation. beomgyu noticed you peeking your head into his classroom, and immediately wanted to leave, not like he wasn't already planning an escape route from the girl confessing to him.

beomgyu felt extremely uncomfortable around the girl, despite rejecting her, she still insisted to hang out with him.

" sorry but my friend is waiting for me. " beomgyu apologised, hoping that she'll finally leave him alone, but he was so wrong.

" is it that y/n girl, what's so good about her anyways? just hang out with me beomie" the girl rolled her eyes. beomgyu stared in shock and disgust, he cringed when she called him the nickname he'd only let y/n use.

" i already said no. get that through you thick ass skull. " beomgyu said aggressively, the girl furrowed her eyebrows at beomgyu's sudden retort and backed off and quickly walked out of the classroom. beomgyu paced towards where you were waiting. he nudged you that he was done as he waved at you. you hummed in response before walking down the stairs, beomgyu followed along beside you.

" who was that girl, she's kinda weird for asking you out on an exam day.." you asked, curious, despite it not being any of your business.

" just someone who just confessed to me. apparently today was a special day to her, that's why she asked me on an exam day.. why? are you jealous? " beomgyu teased, you pursed your lips, you definitely were but you didn't want to admit it, the feeling of the jealousy butterflies really made you uncomfortable, you bit your lip hesitantly, thinking of a response.

" nope, just curious. " you replied nonchalently, beomgyu noticed your sudden pause before replying and smirked,

" mm i think you are though.. " you turned to face him with a ' what the fuck? ' look. he chuckled at your reaction, knowing that you would try to fight back, he decided to say something before you could.

" hmm, if you don't like me being asked out, why not you give me one of your hairties, i'll place it around my wrist. " beomgyu suggested, the tip of his ears turning into a slight red colour, slightly embarrassed that he said that. he waited for your response, dying to know your answer, he's been wanting to ask for your hairtie for a long time, wanting to show everyone who he belongs to. you stared at him in shock, feeling the back of your neck starting to get warm, silence thickening as you thought of a response.

" i don't mind you getting asked out.. you don't need to go to such extent.. " you answered, avoiding the stares beomgyu was giving you. beomgyu frowned, a disappointed " oh " left his mouth, which made you have second thoughts. you fiddled around with the two coincidentally matching hairties on your wrist, it was two regular black hairties with similar looking cat charms on it. you bit your lip in hesitation,

" wrist. " you mumbled out, loud enough for only beomgyu to hear. beomgyu stopped in his tracks, tilting his head in confusion. you couldn't bare the silence, embarrassment creeping in as you felt the back of your neck and cheeks grow warmer by each second under his gaze. you just grabbed his wrist and placed the hairtie around it, adjusting it nicely.

" wha- " beomgyu stared at you in slight shock. his ears turned a darker hue of red. he wanted to die at that moment, he was flustered, extremely. flustered. you give him a nervous smile,

" you're lucky i have matching ones, now people will know who it belongs to. " beomgyu felt his heart racing at a faster pace, he swore the world sround you two stopped. he paused for a good 5 seconds before noticing that you were already at the main gate, about to leave the school compound. he quickly ran towards you and sent you home like normal.

[heeseungsbunny]

BALL GAME

pairing - bruce yamada x shy!reader

notes-guy i wrote this the other day but i didn’t save it so i wrote it all again today, enjoy!

class was almost over and you were so excited to go home & rest. after you finish copying down your notes, you feel someone bump your arm. you look over to see BRUCE YAMADA smiling at you. “hey if you’re not busy after school today, you should come to my baseball game, it’s down the street from our school” he whispered. you hesitated but your mom said you needed to find something to do instead of sleeping all day. “yeah, i’ll ask my mom if i can go” you answered. just then, the bell rang and you & bruce started to pack your things.

you weren’t surprised your mom let you go to the game since you don’t have many friends and don’t leave the house very much. before you went to the game, you got a drink because you didn’t want to be too early and you didn’t expect anything interesting to happen. once you got there, you sat at the very top away from everyone and you could see bruce from there. you did think bruce was a handsome guy but you never tried anything because he was too popular. once you spotted him out from his other players, you waved at him and he waved back excitedly, like he didn’t think you’d actually show up. you saw him walk to the batters box and get ready to hit. you were kinda interested in how good he was at baseball since you heard the whole school saying that he and his team was great. he swung and missed the first ball, and thought the pitcher must be good, you believe his name was finn or something like that. even though he missed, you still believed he was as good as he seems. “you got this bruce!” you cheered. you almost regretted cheering because two girls looked back at you laughing but bruce looked at you nervously and smiled slightly. then he missed the second ball. you felt bad because he started to get a little frustrated so you clapped to give him so encouragement. then finally he swung again, and hit a home run. “good job, bruce!” you chanted. as he ran to first base, he nodded his head and winked at you.

you wanted to wait for bruce after the game but your mom gave you a specific time to get home. as you started walking away from the field, you hear footsteps and heavy pants chasing behind you. “hey wait up” he breathes out. you turn around to see him smiling and out of breath from chasing after you. “you had a good game, bruce” you praised. he nodded and smiled widely. you hadn’t noticed how tall he was until now but he really does kinda hover over you. “i-i did it for you” he chokes out. you look at him confused and you give him some of your drink to help him. he softly takes the drink from you and waterfalls it, trying to be respectful. “what do you mean you did it for-”you asked confused, but you were cut off by bruce. “i promised myself i’d win the game for you if you came and then ask you out, so will you? will you go out with me?” he asks. he sounded like he was begging more than asking. you were looked at him in shock before nodding and pulling him down to hug you. “of course i’ll go out with you”you say excitedly. he sighs in relief that you said yes, picking up and spinning you around. once he puts you back down, he gives you a piece of paper and a pen so you can write your number. “can you write your number, so we can call and stuff?” he says, handing you the paper. you smile and nod, write down your number. “so i’ll see you later-”he says but you cut him off my kissing his cheek and waving goodbye to him. he watched you in awe, smiling, until you disappeared around the corner.

[gothic-thoughts]

His Favorite Rival

Tengen Uzui x Black GN Reader Fluff

CollegeAU, Bully!Tengen(not toxic, dw), Enemies2Lovers

CW: passing notes, Tengen got no wives, they/them pronouns

Word Count: 1110 (give or take)

 After only a few weeks of attending Music Theory, you managed to catch the eye of Tengen Uzui, the man many people warned you about since you were new to the university. During your time here, you heard more and more of Tengen’s misdeeds from your friends every day with them mentioning damn near everything from stealing to beating students up with his friends, leading your to try to avoid him, but that was kinda hard since you shared a class with the flamboyant 6’6 man.

 Avoiding him was made extra hard with him sitting only a few seats across from you and he abused the hell outta that fact by tossing notes onto your desk every other day. Despite his bad rep, they usually said something nice or teasing, so you expected no different when the scrunched up paper lands on your notebook today. You open it and it reads:

  "This is boring (-_-)  how about I save both of us and bring u back to my dorm?"

 Your jaw drops and you look over at him with raised eyebrows and widened eyes as the professor droned on about timing. In response, Tengen winked making the students closest to him snicker leading you to believe that they were his friends and this was a prank. Your face heats up slightly as you face forward, trying to drown out the hushed laughter and shake the feeling of their stares. By the time you collect yourself, the buff man was sitting next to you and leaning over the desk to whisper in your ear.

"Hey~"

"What, when did--"

"Whaddya say?" He whispered, winking, "Ditch this class? I can make it worth your while?"

"Go die."

Tengen scoffs with amusement, "Or what~?"

 The area around you two went quiet as a few other students looked at the scene he was causing. He was only doing it for attention: your attention. He didn't care who saw but of course you did with not knowing anyone in school aside from him and your small group of friends.

"Or I'll kill you myself." Your groan under your breath.

He looks you up and down, smiling mischievously, "Oh, that's hot."

"Go fuck yourself."

"How about you try to make me~?"

"I don't have to; you bother me so much, you probably do it daily thinking about me."

His smile turned into a smirk as he leaned close to your face. "How'd you know?"

 You groan quietly at his comment before kicking his shin under the table to hopefully make him leave you alone while you hide the burning in your face. Tengen yelps in pain, making his friends and a couple students laugh out loud as he rubbed his leg.

“I knew I had an effect on you."

"Mr. Uzui!" The teacher says, tapping her foot, "What are you doing?”

“Listening of course, Miss Anri.” 

“Uh huh, yeah. Stop flirting in class, look for a partner on your own time." 

"Miss--"

The professor just turned back to the board, "Just shut up and pay attention, Tengen."

"Finally someone who agrees."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

 The next day you were in Music Theory sitting nowhere near Tengen or his friends, which gave you a very conflicting feeling in your chest. Like of course you liked him, he was one of the hottest boys on campus but he was also one of the loudest. As you saw yesterday, he can be a little much, even when he was being the tamest version of himself. While deep in your thoughts, someone tapped on your shoulder but when you look at them it didn’t seem to be one of Tengen’s friends but he was holding a small, folded piece of paper.

“Lemme guess, Uzui?”

“Yeah.” They say, resting it on your desk, “Sorry, you guys are having a rough patch.”

"We are not a---ugh!"

 You throw your head back in exhaustion as they walk back to their seat quickly as to not be seen by the professor. I scan the room for Tengen and see he was sitting at his desk, looking at you with unbridled excitement for you to open the note. But instead of giving the bully the satisfaction of pranking you again, you made sure he saw you crumple it in your fist before tossing it onto your desk, tilting your head to the side as you glare at him.

Another note was passed to you during lunch and knowing Uzui had to be somewhere in the area, looking on with excitement, you rip it up and throw it out without looking for him. The next day, your white-haired classmate finally decides to approach you outside of class, stopping you in the hallway with a flirty wink as he leans on the wall next to him. He finally approaches you after class.

"Been trying to get a hold of you for a while now, (Y/n).”

“You say that like you got my number.”

“Right, that being said, why are you ignoring my notes?"

“Because I don’t like you.” You step around him and strut away, “And stop telling people that we're going through marital problems.”

“What, don’t like me?” He starts to follow you, “What do you mean, you don’t like me?”

“What I said.”

"(Y/n), don't just walk away from me while I confess! Confessions have never been this hard for me before!”

“Whatever, Uzui.”

"Baby please~"

“I’m not your baby. We’re in public, don't call me that before people think we're dating.”

"Good.” He grabs your arm and gently tugs you back to him, “I swear this isn’t just some joke.”

“Cap.”

“It’s not, I’m being deadass, why do you think I started passing notes to you in the first place?”

“Cuz I’m new and an easy target?”

“No stupid, cuz I wanted to get to know you better. You were being awkward so I thought you weren’t getting it so I tried being more direct.”

“That’s why you invited me to your dorm?”

“Yes!”

 He pulls you in close, his body touching yours. You could feel his chest touch your back and his face inches away from yours.

“Like I said, this is the hardest confession I’ve ever had to do. I tried to avoid doing this in person but that was the most unflashy way I’ve ever done things. So here I am, in the middle of the hallway...asking you out properly.”

“And this isn’t some ‘prank-the-new-kid’ shit?”

“I put that on my life.”

“God, you’re a piece of work.” You groan with a small smirk, “Fine, one date.”

He winks. “All I need to make you love me.”

[geeangrey2004]

Ave Mujica thoughts

So, I finally finished Ave Mujica (college man), and I have some thoughts. Figured I'd do this in a what I liked, what I didn't like, what I would've done had I been in control kinda way.

What I liked:

I loved basically everything about the aesthetic. I'm a sucker for this kind of grand horror that makes everything feel very vampire-esque.

The idea of the masked band has also captivated me since my sister first made me watch Anonymous Noise with her. There was something about combining acting with music that lit up my neurons (Hence Rock Candy, my prosekai fan unit). The direction that Ave Mujica took, the skits, and the escapism elements were really fun.

The music is amazing! As is the animation. It's a well-made show and was pleasing to look at and listen to. Kill Kiss, Symbol II: Air, and Ave Mujica, the song, all live on my playlist.

Umiri had a very interesting arc about going from not trusting anyone enough to commit to a single band to over-correcting and throwing herself into putting Ave Mujica back together to prove herself worthy of that trust. would've loved to see how that played out had Sakiko and Uika/Hatsune not taken over.

The Mutsumi/Mortis plotline was handled with tact and made me cry, genuinely. this is subject to change based on whether we find out they fused in the second season or not, but all in all, they were a highlight. Also, fun fact, they're kinda the reason I started watching.

The first ten (I would have said Eleven had they handled that whole mess differently) episodes were really good in what they set up. I enjoyed the clash of Sakiko and Nyamu's egos and how that ultimately resulted in the breakup. Umiri is a joy to watch. The band became something that everyone turned to to forget how troubled they were in their lives, and that was an interesting direction to go. would be a shame if anything were to happen...

What I didn't like: AKA the last three episodes:

I'm gonna get my hot take out of the way first and foremost: I don't hate the Uika/Hatsune is Sakiko's aunt twist. I think Bushiroad pulled it so that they didn't have to deal with anything from writing a lesbian couple, but I don't hate it on paper. I would've preferred that she just be one of the maids' children who was forbidden from playing with Sakiko because of their different social classes, or that she was just envious of Sakiko's position in the family, and using her to get into the Togawa group's good graces but it's not the worst thing in the world.

The Sakiko and Uika takeover was BS. This issue is two-fold. They effectively removed the other three characters and also changed who Sakiko is as a person to make this whole string work. Starting at Episode 11, the show seemed to forget that Ave Mujica had five members. With the said episode, it wasn't too bad because it was a flashback episode primarily. It was Uika's past, so I understand her being the focus. However, Episode 12 was the "quick, we only have two episodes left to end the story, what should we do?" episode. Nothing ended in a way that made any sense for what was set up, and the whole thing felt rushed. IDK, maybe if Episode 13 was more than the music video/look at Umiri's ass episode we could've had a better ending.

It also seemed to forget who Sakiko was. From Episode 1 of It's MYGO!!!!!, Sakiko's fatal flaw was that she had to take everything on herself, no matter what happened to her. And because of that, she thought that she was owed getting her way. Because she was handling most of the responsibility with her father, she didn't have to go crawling back to her grandfather; she ended up destroying her relationships with CRYCHIC and her father. Because she was shouldering everything with Ave Mujica and treating every creative decision as her right, she and Nyamu kept butting heads, and the band broke up. Because she kept taking on the role of advocating for Mutsumi, she got frustrated when Mutsumi wouldn't return the favor and side with her in arguments. In short, Sakiko has a martyr complex. Because she's doing all of these things for you, you have to do what she says. Well, according to Episode 12, her problem is that she's too passive. When she decided to run away from her grandfather and leave CRYCHIC so that she would care for her father, that was her being passive. When she decided to not have Mutsumi feign a panic attack on stage for thousands of people to gawk at, she was being passive. When she decided that the only way that Ave Mujica would perform after Mutsumi and Mortis swapped was if Mortis went on and played the guitar for real and destroyed the band because of it, was that her being passive? The Sakiko of episodes 1-10 and the Sakiko of Episodes 11-12 were two different people, and they did that just so they could bring Sakiko to who she was at square one again. We're left at the end with a Sakiko who is taking everything on herself and will eventually explode again.

All the ass shots of Umiri were unnecessary. Like, I felt dirty watching that.

How I Would've Fixed It:

This is about to get a little fanfiction-y.

First things first, we'll be going with the change that Uika just wanted to use Sakiko to get into the Togawa group's good graces. At some point, while the two were cohabiting, Uika gained a possessive streak and became very protective of Sakiko, viewing protecting her as her life's mission.

Episode 11 and the beginning of Episode 12 would be combined. Episode 11 would've started with Sakiko sneaking out of the Togawa Mansion to confront Uika about why Sakiko's grandfather called her "Hatsune". Instead of watching one and a half episodes of the same information getting regurgitated back at us, the play that Uika puts on is just what happens in her mind as she tells Sakiko what happened in real life. We come back to reality at the end to see Uika begging Sakiko not to leave, and Sakiko slamming the door with a single order, "Don't contact me again." Uika, having lost her life's purpose, goes back to the island where she was raised, while Sakiko ghosts Ave Mujica. It was the band she was forced to join by Uika after all. She can't bear to be a part of it, but she can't bear to quit.

Episode 12 opens to Umiri trying to contact Uika and Sakiko while Nyamu and Mutsumi are packing away their instruments. She complains about still not being trustworthy enough, but Nyamu interrupts by reminding Umiri and Mutsumi that they have a meeting with their old agency. While there, they run into Sumita and find out that Uika isn't at her place and hasn't been to any Sumimi practices. She makes a vague mention that maybe Uika went to visit her family.

The girls put their heads together and realized that maybe Uika and Sakiko had some kind of fight. Not willing to let Ave Mujica disband again, Umiri sends Nyamu and Mortis to talk with Sakiko while Umiri goes to bring Uika back. After conversations that I have not figured out the logistics of, Uika and Sakiko meet and make up. Sakiko reluctantly returns to the band.

Episode 13 sees all the girls doing the work to bring Ave Mujica back to what it once was. Nyamu and Uika use their industry connections to find them a new agency that isn't beholden to Sakiko's grandfather. The group works to better delegate work so that no one is doing too much. Umiri takes over as manager because she proved to the other girls that she's the most trustworthy out of all of them. Sakiko is the composer, Uika is their lyricist, and Mutsumi and Nyamu work together on writing the skits. Nyamu also advertises their concerts. The episode ends with the MYGO!!!!! Ave Mujica concert with 90% less Umiri ass and a short conversation between Nyamu and Mortis.