#this is just a dumb idea i had in math class

[pop-roxs]

(the reapers on a roadtrip) Othello: guys, i can't find us on the map... Grelle: give me that! ....i think we're like right h- Ronald: i wanna see!! ............i can't fucking read

[blueywrites]

baby can we smoke?

eddie munson x ditsy!fem!reader you're the last person eddie expects to leave a note in his locker, but he won't regret meeting you out by the picnic table.

2.8k

cw: 18+. innocent reader (not minor-coded), corruption kink, weed usage, allusions to smut while high, no y/n, no physical descriptions.

Another 'naughty nights' ask that got a bit lengthy (check out the original ask here). I had fun writing from this perspective! Should I continue this with a part two? 👀 Let me know what you think. (PART TWO IS HERE!)

enjoy xx

Eddie finds the note in his locker right before lunch. It's written on a quarter of a math worksheet, ripped carefully at the folds and decorated with little doodles of hearts and clouds and shooting stars drawn in sparkly purple pen. That's not the only note in there, but it’s the only one that has him curious, ‘cause it’s from you.

He stops by your lunch table just before the final bell, letting his eyes rove over you while you aren’t paying attention. You’re wearing your typical attire: a fuzzy, pastel-colored sweater, baggy and soft-looking like cotton candy, paired with a little pleated skirt and that heart locket he always sees hanging from your neck in the class you share. He hadn’t pegged you as the type of girl to smoke, and it isn’t just because of the way you look since his clientele is diverse, dips into almost every pocket of the high school social ecosystem. It’s more the way you carry yourself— you seem to kind of float through life, let it bob you about without any resistance or, like, awareness, even? Like, you hum to yourself while you take notes; you don’t talk a ton, but when you do, you’ll talk to literally anybody who’s in proximity to you, including the teachers; and you’re always either giggling or smiling or, sometimes, wearing a look of vague confusion where your glossed lips will hang open, parted in a little ‘o’ like with all your concentration focused on trying to understand something, you have nothing left over to control your face.

Eddie doesn’t wanna call you dumb because that’d make him feel like an asshole, but you just seem so… innocent to be asking him to teach you how to smoke weed. It briefly crosses his mind that someone might just be trying to fuck with him and you hadn’t actually written the note, but when you finally notice him nearby, your wispy-lashed eyes widen eagerly like you’d been expecting him. 

“Yeah, so,” you say, as if continuing a conversation you’d already been having with him, “I really wanna get high, and Susie said you’re the one who sells weed, but I just don’t know how to smoke. I’ve never done it before, not even, like, cigarettes or anything.”

You seem oblivious to the way several heads at the tables around yours swing around to stare, easily overhearing since you’re not making any effort to lower your voice. Eddie merely quirks a brow at them, and when they make eye contact with him, they turn back around. “So,” you go on, “I’d just need you to help me, show me how to smoke and stuff. Would that be okay?”

Eddie debates it for just a moment before relenting with a nod. He tells you to meet him after school at the picnic table behind the athletic fields and you agree right away, smiling up at him with an expression of such utter awe and glee that he has to stop himself from snorting in amusement. It’s funny, but it’s also kind of cute, too— Eddie doesn’t remember the last time someone was so excited at the idea of receiving his help, and your enthusiasm is endearing.

It’s simply endearing all the way up until he has you sitting facing him on the picnic bench, kicking your little feet idly while you straddle it, staring at him with that little ‘o’ face of concentration as he deftly grinds the bud. You plant your hands between your spread legs, leaning forward and watching with rapt fascination as he begins to pack the green into the paper. Your bare knees press against the inside of his, soft and warm through the rips in his jeans; his eyes flick to the hem of your skirt, the way it’s barely long enough to poke out from the pooling of sweater fabric at your lap, and he adds a bonus pinch or two to the joint. It’s fat when he finishes rolling, pinching it between two callused fingers as he tilts to the side and tugs his zippo from his pocket. The lighter draws your gaze like a fluttering moth, your attention snared by the flickering flame, and Eddie finds himself staring at you for a moment before he blinks his fascination away.

“Okay.” Eddie speaks once the paper catches, and your eyes dart from the smoldering tip to his face, expectant and waiting. You’re close enough that he can see where your mascara has flaked a little onto your lids, and from this distance, your helplessness— how dependent you are on him, how sweet and open and utterly trusting you look— elicits a pang low in his belly. He swallows. “So, you’re gonna wanna keep the smoke in your mouth first, and then inhale. Not too deep though, or else you’ll cough it all out and waste it. Here, I’ll show you.” 

Eddie watches you watch him as his lips wrap around the end of the joint and he pulls from it, fairly shallowly compared to what he’d usually do. He drops his hand so you can see, lets his cheeks puff out so you won’t miss the way he’s collecting the smoke. 

And that look on your face is so entranced, Eddie feels suddenly powerful. His chest expands on the inhale, and he smirks at you, closed-mouthed and crooked as your eyes widen at how long he holds it before he lets it billow from his nose like a dragon. That delights you, and the rest of the smoke escapes Eddie’s mouth on a raspy chuckle at how simple it is to please you.

“It’s that easy?” you ask as he waves the lingering smoke away, clearing the space between you.

“‘S that easy, sweetheart,” Eddie confirms. And he finds it curious when you bite your lip, dragging your teeth along the gloss there in such a way that it has him wondering how sticky it must feel. “You ready to give it a try?”

You nod, head bouncing like a dashboard bobblehead, but when Eddie maneuvers the joint in his fingers and holds out the end for you to take, you hesitate, fidgeting and pulling at your sweater sleeves so they cover your fingers. 

“You want me to hold it for you?” Eddie guesses, and you nod again, meeting his gaze with a sweet little grateful smile that has his belly panging again, stirring with the barest amount of low, liquid heat. He reaches out, letting his hand hover at the side of your face, hesitating as he looks to you. “Can I—?”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice small and wispy in a way that isn’t helping with those stirrings he’s feeling. And your cheek is so smooth when he cups it in his hand, using the light grip to guide your face up and hold you steady for him as he brings the joint to your pouty lips. They brush Eddie’s thumb when they part for him to place the joint between them, sticking your flesh to his as you hesitantly pull the smoke into your mouth. 

“That’s it,” he rasps, merely wanting to encourage you, but you just won’t stop staring at him like that as he feeds you the hit. Like, shit, can you really blame him when the stirring creeps lower, down from his belly into his groin? Your cheeks puff up with smoke, and he can almost feel what it’d be like to see the outline of his dickhead poking out of one— all soft and slick inside, plush skin stretched tight around his—

Your hands are flapping in the air between you like you’re trying not to grab onto him, and when Eddie notices the distressed pinch between your brows, he pulls the joint hastily from between your lips. You look like a fucking chipmunk, your cheeks are so full, and Eddie realizes that as he’d zoned out thinking about his cock in your mouth, you just kept sucking and sucking ‘til you literally couldn’t anymore. 

Quickly, Eddie clutches the joint in his teeth to free his hands, gently cupping your full cheeks; sympathetic, patronizing, he says through it, “You didn’t have to— s’too much, honey, just blow a little out, okay?” 

Smoke eeks out from your pursed lips in a steady stream until he pats your face with his fingertips. “Okay, that’s enough,” he says hurriedly, lest you release the entire hit. Obedient to a fault, you are, and damn him for where his mind wanders with that information. “Now, slowly—” he tips his chin, widening his eyes for emphasis, “slowly breathe it in. Take it nice and easy.”

You do as he says, and his shoulders nearly sag with relief when you do it successfully. “Okay, hold it for a few,” he coaxes, dropping his hands and absentmindedly plucking the joint from between his teeth, watching you closely for any signs of difficulty. When you remain placid, a proud grin spreads over his face, and as the seconds tick on, you grow mutually excited, your lips pressed tight and your eyes all lit up as you look back at him. Pretty, he thinks, and then again when you finally let the breath go and smile radiantly.

“I did it!” you exclaim, drumming your sleeved hands on your thighs excitedly as you giggle.

“You did,” Eddie replies, warm and fond at the sight of your happiness and the part he played in it. He takes another hit of his own— quicker but deeper than his first— and inclines his head once he’s released it, flashing his brows encouragingly at you. “You wanna try it again?”

“Definitely,” you say, tipping your face up and leaning in expectantly. Your scent washes over him, something fruity maybe, and Eddie has to try hard not to lean further forward and drag his tongue across your lips, to pry them open and see if the inside of your mouth tastes as sweet as you smell. 

For a good while, you and Eddie trade hits back and forth, one for you for every two of his until the whites of your eyes go pink and your body loosens, unraveling upon the picnic table. You end up in a deep lean against the tabletop, your head propped in your hand, your breast squished against the wooden edge in such a way that even in that fuzzy near-shapeless sweater, the sight tantalizes him. Eddie’s feeling as high as you look, mirroring your posture with his knees spread wide, engulfing your shorter thighs in a dark frame of denim. He’s high enough that he doesn’t have that typical discomfort pinching in his chest at the silence between you, doesn’t feel the need to fill it by talking about whatever shit pops into his head. He’s consumed instead with sensation— the breeze ruffling his frizzy curls, tickling him with broken strands along his hairline; the dull crunch of old, nearly-rotted leaves under his sneakers; the hollow thrum of his pulse in his ears and the flow of living blood through his veins, cycling with each slow, rhythmic throb of his heart. And as he looks across at you— sweet, soft, sensual you — Eddie finds that since the high has his nerves all alight, he wants to touch your skin again, see how it feels now under his sensitized fingers.

The weed-haze brings with it a certain fond, almost nostalgic influence. It’s one that breaks down barriers, creates closeness where there wasn’t any, or magnifies it where there was. Your bodies are certainly closer now, sagging inward toward one another as you laze in mutual drug-induced comfort. Eddie’s used to feeling that influence, but you’re not, so when he reaches out and runs his finger down the back of your hand, you let out a small gasp at the contact. Startled, he jerks his dipping chin upright, bloodshot eyes darting to your face. But he finds no upset there, only surprise and shy pleasure painted across your features. So he plucks your hand from your lap, tugging it gently over to him and letting it rest on his thigh so he can satisfy his fascination with the texture of your skin. Your fingers twitch a little as he laces them with his, slowly dragging his fingertips through the gaps and then down your palm to your wrist. When his thumb comes back up to trace the outside of yours, you nudge into his touch, relaxing into the sensation with a languid sigh.

“Does it feel nice? The high,” he clarifies when you blink at him, droopy-lidded and wearing your little ‘o’ face. He keeps tracing along the valley of your thumb, dipping down and then back up along your index finger, enjoying the tickle of your skin against his calluses.

“Mm-hmm.” You smile, your eyes dropping to your joined hands. “Feels really nice. Kinda floaty, like my head’s not as heavy anymore.”

Eddie crooks a smile, humming his agreement. Lax and pliant, you let him continue to play with your fingers, and he’s suddenly hit with a potent impulsive urge to bring your limp hand to his mouth and nibble your fingertips, lick the smooth polish of your painted nails, suck your pinkie into his mouth and tease your skin with his tongue to see what sound you’d make. He doesn’t do that. But he does let his fingers snake under the sleeve of your fuzzy sweater, let them creep along your forearm up to the crease of your inner elbow. He drags his thumb in slow circles there, crawling around and around until he finds what he’s looking for: a sign that you feel the same stirring in your belly that he feels, revealed by the slightest whisper of a moan his touch pulls from your lips.

Encouraged, Eddie’s hands travel then— tugging out of your sleeve to smooth up your arm and over the dip of your shoulder; palming your neck, dragging up to your ear to cup around the base of your skull; ghosting across your ribcage and down to your hip; then sneaking just beneath the pleats of your tiny skirt, flexing against the hidden skin there. All the while, that liquid heat sloshes around in his belly, spreading low between his hips, dripping down to tighten in his balls and fill out his stiffening cock.

He doesn’t know exactly how it happens, but eventually, you end up laid out on the rough wood bench, your legs dangling to either side of his head as he kneels before you, nosing at the tender skin of your inner thigh. Your sigh is a shuddery, eager thing when his teeth graze the lacy edge of your cotton panties, which to his delight are swallowed up a little by the plump of your pussy lips. “Can I take these off?” Eddie asks, forcedly casual and only slightly gritty as he tries to bite back his own rabid eagerness lest he scare you off with it. But you’re quick to say yes, so quick that it tells him you want this just as much as he does, and maybe even more, though he can scarcely believe that. 

The thought makes him cocky. He eases your panties down, deliberately slow to see if you’ll get impatient. Sure enough, you wiggle your hips, whining quietly to try to hurry him; the power your neediness gives him surges with his arousal as he feels just how damp the fabric is when he balls it in his fist. Hastily, he tucks your panties into his back pocket, his eyes locked on that sweet, swollen place between your legs. 

 "Aw, look’it her,” he croons, splaying his long fingers against your inner thighs to spread you more open for him. “Can't believe you been hiding her all this time under these little skirts you wear.” 

If you’re cute, your pussy is adorable— plump like a peach, wet and ripe and glistening as he presses into your slit with his thumbs and pulls your lips apart to see more of her. She yields easily for him, splitting with a sticky click to reveal your quivering hole and your fat clit already peeking coyly from its hood. “Oh, she's so pretty, baby,” Eddie praises, his mouth watering and his cock jerking in his tight jeans, stiffening further against his zipper. “And she’s so wet already. Bet I can make 'er spit for me." 

You coo, and he lifts his head to see you biting your lip through an eager grin. "Yeah? You excited for me to touch you?" Eddie chuckles, equally fond and condescending. "Aren’t you just a sweet little thing."

“R’you gonna eat my pussy, Eddie?” you ask, and the question is so dirty but your voice sounds so goddamn innocent that he can’t help but chuckle again, this time in disbelief. 

“Yeah, baby,” he rasps, palming himself quickly over his jeans to try to bring relief because his dick is suddenly so fucking hard it aches. “I’m gonna eat your pussy.”

[meangirls-imagines]

Could I request a Leighton x reader one shot where Leighton just recently came out and is new to the whole lesbian flirting thing so she tries to find out if reader is gay with the help of questionable internet advice?

Gaydar Issues

Description: Leighton is new to the Essex queer community and unlike her confident persona, she has no idea how to flirt. She meets Reader and develops a crush on her. She should not have gone to her roommates for help.

WARNINGS: fluffy as fuck, leighton being a gay baby, her roommates being dumb, leighton gay panicking.

Okay.

In hindsight, Leighton knew she shouldn't have gone to her roommates for queer flirting advice.

She had no other options.

Let's recap.

Ever since Leighton came out, she had found it difficult to talk to women in person and not behind a screen. She was two different people.

One had a seductive aura, luring her hookups in with a single smirk and making them see stars by the end of the night.

The other was a shy, nervous girl who had no idea how to flirt.

Leighton was struggling. She had tried to talk to Nico about it but him being a guy, gave her flirting tips that he does, which were gross. She tried to talk to Willow about it but the girl was no help. She flirted with athletes, who she had something in common with.

That was it! Leighton just needed to find someone who had something in common with her! Easy peasy.

Plot twist: it's not so easy peasy.

Leighton had decided to scout out her math class to see if she had any hot female students in there with her. She had one, and she had already hooked up with her and didn't really feel anything with her.

It had gotten to a point where Leighton was starting to give up, but as she walked out of class, she saw the most gorgeous girl talking to Bela, of all people.

Leighton froze as she looked at the girl. She was stunning, the smile she was giving Bela was melting Leighton's heart. The girl had on some black skinny jeans, white converse, a white crop top and a jean jacket on.

Leighton could tell she had great fashion sense, even if the outfit was casual. She could hear her laugh from where she stood and it became her favorite sound in the world. Before she could go over and introduce herself, the girl hugged Bela and walked the other direction.

Bela began walking towards Leighton as the blonde fell in step behind her.

"Hey Bela! How are you today?"

Bela looked at Leighton confused but played along. "I'm...fine. Leighton, are you okay? You never ask about my day." The blonde smiled at her. "What are you talking about? I always ask about your day. I had a question."

Bela laughed, "There it is." Leighton rolled her eyes. "That girl you were talking to, who was she?"

Bela smirked. "That's Y/N. I'm trying to get her to join my comedy club. Girl is hilarious." Leighton nodded. "Yeah. Could you introduce me?"

Bela smiled. "Ooh does someone have a crush?" Leighton blushed hard. "Bela! Just because I'm a lesbian doesn't mean I have a crush on every girl!." Bela smirked again. "Yeah, yeah. I'll introduce you."

The next day, Leighton was walking across the campus courtyard when her name was yelled. She turned to see Bela and Y/N walking towards her. She instantly got nervous as the duo approached her. She straightened herself up and smiled at the two.

"Hey Bela!" The duo reached her as Bela held out an arm. "Y/N, this is Leighton. Leighton, this is Y/N, the newest member of my comedy club!" Y/N stuck her hand out for Leighton to shake. The blonde shook it, thinking about how soft her hands were before snapping back.

"Congrats! Bela was telling me how funny you are!" Y/N blushed. "Thank you! It's so nice to finally meet you! Bela has told me a lot about you, though she didn't mention how pretty you are."

Leighton's jaw dropped. A blush took over her features as she stuttered on her words. Y/N smirked and looked at Bela. "I'll see you later okay? Bye guys!" She walked off as Bela stared at Leighton shocked.

"Leighton. Are you blushing?" Leighton shook herself off and glared at Bela. "I am not!" She stomped off as Bela smirked. She pulled her phone out and texted Whitney and Kimberly.

"Leighton needs an intervention."

Leighton didn't know what to expect when she got back to her dorm, but it wasn't her roommates staring at her. It scared the shit out of her. "What the hell are you guys doing?" Kimberly gestured to the couch. "Please sit."

Leighton sat and looked at them confused. "What is happening?" Whitney sighed. "Leighton, it's come to our attention that you don't know how to talk to girls. We are here to help you."

Leighton's jaw dropped as she slowly turned to glare at Bela. "You told?!" Bela sighed. "I'm sorry! But you need help. Y/N is so into you!" Leighton glared at Bela. "Do you know if she's even gay?" Bela sat silently for a few seconds. "Uhh...no?"

Leighton pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

Whitney decided to save Bela. "She told us Y/N called you pretty! That's a sign, right?" Leighton directed her glare to Whitney now. "Girls call each other pretty all the time Whitney!"

Kimberly, ever the voice of reason, finally spoke. "Leighton, I think for now, talk to her, get to know her, and then maybe if she's comfortable, she'll tell you. But don't just outright ask her. So that way, if she isn't, you can remain friends."

The room was silent for a moment before Whitney and Bela voiced their disagreement of the plan and began to bicker about how Leighton should handle it.

Leighton was stuck on Kimberly's words. "Talk to her." "Get to know her"

That's what Leighton was going to do.

She spotted Y/N the next day walking out of the library and quickened her pace to catch up. "Y/N!" The girl turned and saw Leighton. A bright smile came across her face as she waved. "Hi Leighton! How are you?" Leighton fell into step with Y/N. "I'm good! I actually wanted to ask you something."

Y/N nodded. "Ask away." Leighton took a deep breath and asked the question. "Do you maybe wanna hang out, later? We can study together in the library. If you want!" Y/N blushed and nodded. "Yeah, sure! Can I get your number?"

Leighton felt her heart rate increase. She handed her phone over to Y/N, who put her number in quickly before handing it back. "Text me when you wanna meet up later." Leighton nodded before the girl smiled at the blonde and walked off.

Leighton fought the urge to do a happy dance.

Step one, done.

After a few weeks of hanging out with Y/N, Leighton discovered she was down badly for this girl. The more they hung out, the more Leighon's crush grew. Her roommates tried to hype her up to ask the girl out, but she didn't want to embarrass herself.

It all came to a head one day at lunch, the day that the roommates deemed, "their baby gay grew up".

Leighton was sitting at the table with her roommates eating lunch when Y/N approached. "Hey guys!" The girls greeted Y/N, not so subtly looking at Leighton, who blushed.

"Hi Leighton." The blonde smiled and quietly said hi back. Y/N cleared her throat. "If you weren't doing anything tonight, would you maybe wanna go to dinner and a movie tonight? I know this really good burger place a few miles from school."

Leighton blushed. Her brain was unable to function and she stuttered on her words once again.

Kimberly answered for her. "She would love to! She doesn't have any plans tonight!" Y/N smiled and looked at the girl. "Great! I'll pick you up at say 6:30? Dress casual." Leighton nodded as the girl walked off.

Her roommates squealed as the girl blushed harder. "We told you she was gay! You got a date!" Leighton smiled at how happy her girls were for her, joining in on the squealing, not noticing Y/N watching with a wide grin.

When Leighton came home later that night, hearts in her eyes and swollen lips, the roommates squealed again, sitting her down and making her give them the details.

Their baby gay really had grown up.

[muwapsturniolo]

hii so like do u think u could do a chris smut based on wet dreamz by j cole??

✯Wet Dreamz✯

Black!reader

Summary: Chris has wet dreamz on a girl in his math class and finally has the chance to fuck her.

Warning: NSFW CONTENT!!!! sexual fantasies, sex, that's about it tbh.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Chris used to loathe going to school.

He hated having to wake up early, get dressed, and sit in classes all day where teachers were rude and shoved endless amounts of knowledge down their throats with homework included.

But a certain girl in his math class made it better.

She was a thick brown-skinned girl, with long curly hair and lips to die for. She always had nice clothes and her nails were constantly done.

He had a humungous crush on her, it was hard not to with the way she always laughed at his dumb jokes. She would laugh so hard that it got to the point where their teacher started to get mad, so they started to pass notes to avoid getting in trouble. He looked forward to seeing her, sitting next to her every day during 3rd period. He would rush into the classroom every day, making sure to get there before her so he could play it cool.

Besides the passing of notes, his favorite part of the class was watching her sit down. The way her thick brown thighs expanded when pushed against the chair, the way her hips bucked forward when moving the chair closer to the desk, and most of all, the way her lips curled when she smiled at him.

He started daydreaming, imagining her riding him, her hips moving constantly, how she would sink down onto him, her thighs expanding, how she would lick all over him, her thick lips glossed with his precum. He would become hard every day in class, making it hard for him to stand and move around the classroom.

As the school year went on, his attraction got deeper, his daydreams turning into wet dreams. Waking up every day to her name falling from his lips, dreaming that he's hitting it from the back when in reality, he was sleeping.

It's a new day in 3rd period and Chris was once again daydreaming about the girl next to him. The teacher was going on and on about some type of math formula, and he was doing his best to look like he was paying attention. He jumps feeling a hand on his thigh, looking down in shock. He sees Y/n pulling away, leaving a note on his lap.

He looks at her but she doesn't look back, going back to taking her notes. He looks back down at his lap and grabs the note, opening it up.

"Have you ever had sex before?"

Fuck.

His heart is racing. he's never had sex before, he hasn't even come close to it. This is his chance, he could have sex with the girl of his dreams, he just has to play his cards right.

He takes a deep breath and grabs his pen, trying hard to not look like he's about to pass out. He writes down his answer, saying

"Of course I have, I'm a pro at it." knowing damn well he was lying. He hasn't even come close to a female's genitalia since the day he and his brothers came out of one.

But she doesn't have to know that.

He slides the note back to her, hoping she won't be turned off by his faux achievements. He watches her face as she reads the note, not getting any idea of what she's thinking. She quickly writes back her response, sliding the note back to him.

"you a pro at it? well, I want you to show me. my momma gone for the weekend, so come over Saturday."

Chris can feel his body start to sweat as the phallus between his legs starts to awaken. He turns to her and sees her already looking at him, her eyes low as she bites her lip. He looks her up and down, his eyes taking in every inch of her body, imagining her naked and on her bed as he ruts into her.

"Christopher!" He jumps and looks at the teacher, eyes wide in hopes she doesn't call him up to the front of the class.

"Pay attention!" She hisses. He nods and faces the bored once again. When the teacher goes back to explaining the random formula, he writes back to her.

"sounds like a plan ma."

He was trying to look cool when in reality he was shitting bricks. He could feel the swarm of butterflies in his stomach as his mouth ran dry.

He knows he's a virgin, and now he has to act like he's not. Knowing he's never did this before.

He hopes she won't notice it's his first time. He hopes that his dick is big enough for her. He prays to every god out there that he won't embarrass himself by busting quick.

He decided to prepare himself by watching porn, taking mental notes on what the girls react to. He practiced putting condoms on as well, keeping his room door locked in case one of his family members barged in.

It's now Saturday, 7pm exactly. He's sitting on her bed, a pocket full of condoms, a boner, and a body full of nerves. She creeps into the room, a shy smile on her face. "Sorry, I guess we don't have popcorn or chips so I just grabbed some candy." She walks past him and he watches her ass sway in her pajama shorts.

She crawls onto her bed, lying next to him. They decided on a random movie they both had seen and relaxed into the softness of her bed. Halfway through the movie, he decides to make his move. He places his hand on her thigh, rubbing and squeezing it softly. He notices her clenching her legs together. He turns and sees a shy look on her face.

He doesn't waste any time and presses his lips against hers, rolling on top of her. The makeout session is soft, lust in the air but both are careful with their movements. Her hands rub all over his chest before trailing down to the buckle of his belt. She unhooks it and slowly shoves her hand into his pants. He groans feeling her palm him, it's a vast difference from him stroking himself.

"I-is this ok?" She murmurs into the kiss.

"Don't stop ma." He pleads, bucking into her hand. After a few minutes, he decides it's time for the real deal. He slowly takes off her tank top and shorts, leaving her in an orange bra and matching thong. He could bust at the sight of her wearing his favorite color, it looks amazing on her.

His clothes are next, the only article left being his boxers. He pulls out a condom and releases his hard member from his boxers. He's so busy putting the condom on like he has practiced, he doesn't notice Y/n looking at him in fright. He turns back to her, pulling her towards him by her legs. He taps her folds a few times, sliding his member up and down as he gathers her slickness. Small whines fall from her mouth, egging him on. Before he can slide it in, he's stopped by her hand grabbing him.

"W-wait!" He looks up at her and frowns seeing the frightened expression. "What's wrong?''

She swallows harshly and sits up, covering her exposed chest, "Can I tell you something? You can't get mad at me though." He nods, curious as to what she's going to say.

"I know you've had sex multiple times, and that's fine, but can you go slow? I've never done this before..."

Her words are shocking.

She's a virgin?

He thought she'd had sex at least once or twice.

He can tell she's beyond nervous, so he decides to ease her nerves.

"Can I be honest too?'' She nods, hoping he won't be an asshole towards her. "i'm a virgin too."

Her eyes widen at his confession, "But you tol-I know." He rubs his neck in embarrassment. "I lied because I really like you and I didn't want you to see me as a loser."

His words bring a smile to her face, comforting her. "I wouldn't have seen you as a loser," she tells him, rubbing her palm against his arm. He sighs in relief and his eyes land on hers.

The two stare at each other, a new sense of understanding and lust in the air. They move closer and before they know it, their lips are touching once again.

He lays her back down, his hands gently squeezing her hips. She shyly opens her legs, allowing Chris to fall in-between them. He grabs his dick and does just as he did before, rubbing in between her folds, gathering her slick to make it easier for him to slip in.

"I'm going to slide in now ok?" She nods, continuing to kiss his lips feverishly. He guides himself into her warm entrance, moans falling from both of their lips.

He pulls away from the kiss, his head falling into the crook of her neck. She's squeezing him so tight, her velvety walls sucking him deep inside of her. It's taking everything in him not to spill into the condom. "Fuck," he groans, clenching his eyes in ecstasy.

"M-move, please move," she begs him. He nods and slowly pulls out before thrusting back into her. He falls into a nice rhythm, not hard and fast, but not slow either. The moans falling from her plump lips is like music to his ears, urging him to keep going.

He lifts her leg up, pressing into her chest as he pants in her ear. "So good for me, squeezing me just right." He praises. She whines and claws at his back, the pleasure being too much for her to handle.

His hand snakes in between them and he uses his middle and index finger to circle her clit, just like he saw in the videos. her back arches and she grips a handful of hair. "Chris nghh- I'm close, oh god'm close!" She whimpers out. He can't help it, he thrusts even faster, drawing louder moans from the girl beneath him. His fingers draw faster circles around her clit, her walls starting to spaz around him.

"fuck-i'm cu-" she cuts herself off with a loud moan, her jaw slacking as she throws her head back. The site of her having an orgasm was enough for Chris. He stalls deep inside of her, a deep groan exiting his throat as he rocks their meshed bodies back and forth. He plants kisses all along her neck, praising her for doing so good and thanking her for this moment.

The two lay there, panting softly and trying to hold on to the moment. "Was it good?" Y/n asks softly. Chris chuckles and plants a quick kiss on her lips.

"It was better than my dreams."

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

TAGLIST🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @mattslolita

[karasuno-planet]

Hii! I'm not sure what your requests rules are or what ur comfterable with, but I'd really like to see a tsukishima x reader where he confesses to the reader! I'd love to see your interpretation of it >-<

After Class- Tsukishima Kei

a/n: HIIII of course I'll give you some tsukki x reader, hope I did him justice <333 as for requests I'll write for any haikyuu boy as long as it's sfw! requests open xx

wc: 0.8k

(gif not mine)

You had loosely known Tsukishima all year now, as you shared the same class and often found yourselves sitting by each other and pairing up for assignments. It was no secret that he was intelligent, but you could hold your own despite how intimidating he could sometimes be.

Recently, you had been making quite the effort to see him outside of class, though you weren't quite sure he had gotten the hint. You had been coming to his games, talking to him more in class, and you even altered your route to school to intersect with his. He hadn't been receptive, though, and if anything could be considered your enemy, it might be those damn headphones.

You had one last idea, though. Sitting next to him in your last class of the day, you tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hm?"

"Hey, um, you mind staying after class for a few to help me out with this problem on my math homework? I'm so lost..."

"Oh, yeah. Sure. I have some time before practice."

"Thank you," You returned to your work, now unable to focus. You know you were the one who asked him to stay, but the idea of being alone with him after class made your stomach turn.

Soon enough, the bell had rung, and you had gotten absolutely nowhere on your work. The class cleared out until it was just you and Tsukishima. He pulled his chair closer to share your desk as you got out your math homework. You handed it to him and he skimmed it over, the silence between you almost deafening.

"Mm, wait, what is it that you don't get?" He asked, puzzled.

"Uh, the last one."

"But you did the whole sheet correctly. You just wrote out the equation and didn't solve it on the last one."

Oh God, I guess you didn't think this far. How could you be so dumb? A perfect sheet of homework didn't exactly scream that you needed help. You made up the best excuse you could, "Yeah, but I looked back at it after the lesson and I just don't even remember how to do it...can you show me?"

"Sure.." he picked up a pencil and took the problem step by step, mumbling an explanation under his breath. At one point, he looked up and saw your eyes fixed on him. You could've sworn there was a peak of blush, but he looked back down at the sheet before you could get a good look. "There, uh, does that make more sense?"

"Yes, it's perfect. Thank you..."

"No problem," He hesitated, as if he was about to say something else but was held back, "You've been coming to my games, right?"

"Oh, yes! I've kinda been getting into the sport..."

"Are you coming tomorrow, too?"

"Do you want me to?"

That caught him off guard, a flash of fear in his eyes, "Uh- well, sure." He looked at his phone quickly for the time and began to frantically pack up, "Shoot, I'm about to be late. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sorry to keep you!" You were upset with yourself for having kept him so long, "Good luck at practice!"

And at that moment your heart nearly skipped a beat when you saw him swallow before answering, "thanks."

He walked out the door and you were left practically with your jaw dropped. You packed up quickly and went to your locker to put your homework away.

You were once again filled with anxiety upon hearing familiar voices down the hall.

"She WHAT? And you don't think she really needed help-" Yamaguchi's voice squeaked through the hall, having not noticed you yet. You glance down the hallway and see Tsushima talking to him, Tsukki's back facing you. Was he really talking about you?

Yamaguchi continued, "Dude you need to go back before she-" he clasped his hands over his mouth, finally noticing your presence down the hall.

Tsukishima turned around to see you standing there, his face completely flushed. Yamaguchi pushed him towards you quickly before running off to avoid whatever Tsukishima might do to him when he catches him.

There you were, standing alone facing your nearly-190-centimeter crush. He turned around to watch Yamaguchi dart off. He sighed, and turned back to face you, walking towards you.

"Y/n?"

You turned to him, closing your locker. "Yes?"

"You're not dumb. Obviously. You didn't need my help back there. And so I won't pretend you didn't just hear that."

You were absolutely speechless.

"Do you like me, y/n?"

"I- uh..."

"Because I like you." He grew more anxious as you delayed to respond, "is that okay?"

"Yes!" The word burst out of you, "More than okay."

[masterlist]

[zxvmp]

Dating Kaminari (sfw/nsfw)

tags: fem! reader, fluff, smut

The two of you started dating during your senior year in high school. It all started when you walked into his math class. Cute hair, cute face, and a beautiful body, what more could he have asked for? It was a bonus you were a complete idiot like him.

You made dumb jokes and even laughed at them yourself. He loved that you were energetic and laid back.

About two months in to knowing each other, he finally asked you out.

“How about I take you out, yeah? Somewhere nice.”

Of course, you took him up on his offer. You thought he was cute and dorky. He made dumb jokes like you and was a huge flirt. Underneath his stupidity and flirtatiousness, you knew he was a good guy. He talked to you any chance he could get and was caring. Plus, you’d known him for a while so a date wouldn’t kill you.

Your first date was a concert. He paid for both of you. The person you saw was an artist the two of you both favored. You were so beautiful in his eyes. The way you jumped up and down with the crowd, singing along to the lyrics. You had him in love with you.

Since the two of you were already close, it wasn’t awkward when you started dating. Well, for him it wasn’t. You somehow felt much more nervous than when you only had a mere crush on him. Now that you were over his house, laying in his bed, snuggled in his arms, you were a blushing mess. It didn’t help he was ever more of a flirt now that the two of you were official.

“What’s got you so shy? Where’d that energetic, confident girl go?” He’d chuckle as you yelled at him to shut up. “C’mon babe, i’m just teasing.”

Your first kiss was a funny story. Kaminari had to take care of you after you drank too much at a party. It was an end of the year party for the seniors, and there was no way the two of you would pass out on a party. However, you underestimated how much your body could take.

“Geez babe, you still with me?”

It wasn’t your fault. He held you by your hips and stared down at you with drunk eyes. He had been drinking too, just not as much as you. You couldn’t hold yourself back, he looked so hot.

The kiss was slightly sloppy since you went in without a thought. Kaminari was shocked you leaned in to kiss him, but he didn’t mind it. In fact, he enjoyed it. He never imagined you’d be the one to initiate your first kiss.

It was a story the two of you always thought back to. He’d bring it up almost any time you’d kiss him.

“Remember when you were so drunk-”

“Shut up!”

Kaminari always takes you out, no matter the day of the week. You’re both free? You better be ready in 10 minutes because he’s on his way to take you out. He literally cannot, not be around you. He needs to be around you 24/7.

If you’re not near him, you’re on a call with him.

“Sup babe, whatcha up to? Wanna go see a movie?”

You repay him by giving him gifts. A new pair of headphones for his controller since he broke his last pair from raging at a game.

Whenever the two of you get into an argument, he’s always first to apologize. Even if you’re in the wrong, he’s usually always first to apologize. And when I mean apologize, he literally shows up at your doorstep dripping from being out in the rain with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a bag of your favorite candy. Kaminari hates yelling at you. He’s scared of you leaving him, which is why he’s so clingy sometimes.

On the other hand, when you guys get into a heated argument and he doesn’t apologize first, you’re coming up with all sorts of ways for him to forgive you. You’re up all night coming up with ideas. He won’t answer a single message you send him, but if he does, it’s something cocky.

‘texting me after telling me to leave? crazy.’

or

‘miss me already?’

You end up showing up to his place with an angry expression. Forcing your way into his house. He tried his best to act like he’s mad, but really he’s just toying with you. Your angry face is too cute and funny.

Nsfw! vvv

You can’t go one hangout at his place without your hands being off of each other. Your relationship has gotten to the point where you crave each other unconditionally.

He could be on his playstation playing with his friends and you’re suddenly climbing on top of him, whispering into his ear how bad you want him. Takes literal seconds for him to turn off his playstation and take care of your needs. He doesn’t even say, ‘bye’ to his friends.

“Can’t even wait ‘til i’m done on the game, huh?”

You’re gripping the sheets as he laps up your juices, flattening his tongue against your clit. Kaminari loved watching you crumble underneath him. Your cute moans and facial expressions made his heart jump and dick twitch.

Once he’s prepped you enough, he’s ramming his cock into you without hesitation.

Will fuck you dumb if he feels like it. Literally loves watching your body shake from how good he’s making you feel.

“Fuck—you’re so perfect, baby.”

Your clawing at his back as he whispers all sorts of things into your ear. His pace was brutal, making the bed creak from each thrust.

Kaminari is a total freak. If you’re asking to, he’ll do it. No matter the time or place. The two of you have fucked in his car multiple times. Probably more than the amount of times than in his or your room.

When you tell him you’ve started birth control pills and that he didn’t have to wear a condom anymore, he was jumping up with joy. Best believe you were underneath him moaning his name a couple moments after you told him. The way you sucked him in was perfect. He was lost in the way you felt.

Loves marking your skin up. Idc. You’re not leaving his place without a hickey on your neck.

The first time he came inside you, he definitely shed a tear. He couldn’t help it. It felt so good to be able to release inside you. The thought of you holding his kids spurred him on.

😛

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 2

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 1

If you heard the names Casey or Steve one more time you might go insane. Stu ran up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist. "Boo!" The binder you held in your arms unceremoniously hit the floor. "Let go of me weirdo." You struggled but he didn't let go. "Did ya hear about Casey and Steve?" You could scream. The heel of your Mary Jane shoes made contact with his toes making him lose his grip. With a huff you picked up your belongings. "Why is everyone so obsessed with them?" Stu cocked an eyebrow at you. "Uh because they were slit open like pigs in a butcher shop?"

"I get that trust me thats all anyone can talk about. But you can't act all sad like you've lost a loved one and then talk in great detail about what organ fell out where. It's inhumane." He leaned back on the lockers listening to you rant. "Yesterday was a complete shit show. That Steve guy was a prick to me and he didn't even know my name yet. So he can't be the saint everyone's making him out to be. Murders happen everywhere all the time these two aren't going to change anything."

"Interesting take from Marry Poppins. What's got your panties in a bunch today?" You opened your locker putting away your things for lunch. "Some asshole started talking to me in 2nd period about how in a movie I'd be a prime suspect because the murders started when I got here." Randy. Stu knew the moment you brought up movies. "Well you did say Steve was an asshat, that's motive Y/n." He was right but let's be real here. You couldn't take on an athlete if you were paid. You rubbed your face in frustration. "Relax I know it's not you. You'd cry if you got blood on that cute little dress of yours." It really wouldn't matter you knew how to take practically any stain out of a piece of clothing.

"You'd be surprised." Just as the words left your lips a kid bumped into you knocking you into Stu. His hands conveniently found your hips. "Watch where you're walking asshole!" Stu shouted with a laugh. You pulled yourself away from him trying to straighten your dress with your hands. "Hey I'm meeting Tatum and everybody by the water fountain, you in?" The idea of being around more people wasn't ideal. Stu could see on your face you didn't want to. "Oh come on Billy's going to be there." He wasn't dumb. Billy was an attractive guy, he was well aware of that. All the girls had a thing for Billy, you were no exception.

"If I go you can't just completely ignore me because I only know you two." Stu shut your locker for you as you continued to walk. "Ignore you? I could never. You could sit on my lap if you wanted to." You fake gagged making him laugh. "I don't think your girlfriend would like that." He just shrugged his shoulders. "Eh I do what I want." This doesn't surprise you. "You are a peace of work." The doors opened letting the light bombard your skin. "Picasso baby!" Stu shouted as he grabbed your hand pulling you towards the fountain.

"Fresh meat everybody!" He declared as you stood uncomfortably in front of everyone. Billy looked more than unamused at your appearance. "Y/n right? You're in my math class?" You nodded at the girl with brown hair. She stuck out her hand for you to shake. "I'm Sydney Prescott." Billy shook his head with a smile. "Nice to meet you Sydney." She smiled up at you and returned the sentiment. "She's the killer I'll bet anybody 10 bucks." If looks could kill he'd be six feet under. "Randy knock it off. You think this adorable face could murder?" Stu pinched your cheeks with a grin on his lips. "Not a chance." He let go and found a seat next to Tatum. "Plus there's no way a girl could've killed them."

"Scoot over let her sit down." Billy huffed but did what Sydney told him. "That is so sexist. The killer could easily be a female, Basic Instinct." You nodded in Tatum's defense. "That was an ice pick. Not exactly the same thing." Stu looked over at all of us before looking at Tatum. "Yeah Casey and Steve were completely hollowed out. The fact is it takes like, a man to do something like that." Sydney looked down at the ground uncomfortable with the conversation.

"I don't know feminine rage is pretty scary. Do you know how many cheating husbands get stabbed to death or fed to the dogs by the wife. The fact is women know how to get a job done quickly and quietly. Men get cocky and want to play around that's how they get caught." Randy snapped his finger point at you. "See what I mean!" Stu laughed and Billy just looked at you with intrigue.

"How do you gut someone?" The honest tone of Sydney's voice made everyone quite down. "You take a knife and you slit them from groin to sternum." Billy sat up seemingly done with the gorey details. "Hey, it's called tact fuckrag." Billy looked at Stu his eyes once again saying more than his words did.

"Change of subject, I like your dress it's very Hepburn." Tatum spoke up. You cleared your throat trying to shake off that uneasy feeling. "Thanks I made it myself." She sat up in shock. "No way! You should totally make me one." If only it were that simple. "You think I'd look good in something like that babe?" She asked Stu and if you knew anything about him he'd give a smartass answer. "I think it'd look better on my bedroom floor but hey." She smacked his arm as everyone shared a laugh.

Stu continued rambling on about the murders with Randy. You were sick of hearing about it and it appeared so was Sydney. Her hand rested on Billy's knee as he whispered something to him. He nodded as she left a kiss on his cheek. The moment she left his demeanor darkened even more. He looked truly angry at this point. You assumed it was because Stu had upset her. Billy leaned next to you just enough to hit Stu's arm. "Ow man what gives? I was joking!" Billy was the next to get up followed by Randy.

"Hey Y/n? Are you doing anything Saturday? Me and Syd were going to hang out this weekend you could totally join." You knew Stu and Billy had plans to hang out with you and by the look on Stu's face he'd be upset if you said yes to Tatum. "Can't. My dad's going to be gone this weekend so I have to house sit." The smile on Stu's face was far from innocent. "You think with a killer on the loose you should be home alone?" She had a point but you doubted there was a serial killer running around. "I know how to lock my doors I'll be fine. Promise."

The school day went by fast thankfully. But once again everyone crowded around your car. "I'm not giving you a ride today." You shook your head. "I was thinking we could all go riding around maybe go to the mall? Someone's got to give you a tour." Stu said gesturing to the friend group you know found yourself a part of. "You don't have to of course." Sydney chimed in. She was probably the nicest one out of the group. "Who's got money for gas?" In an instant Stu handed you a crumpled up 100 dollar bill. "That should cover it and don't ask where its been." He noticed the shock on your face. "Don't worry there's more where that came from." He winked at you and Tatum rolled her eyes. You shoved the bill in your purse snapping it shut.

"Ive got work today so I'll catch you all later." Randy said as he walked away. You felt a little bad you were relieved at his absence. "Okay I've got bench seats so three people can sit up front and three in the back. "I call back seat with Stu." Tatum pulled at his shirt dragged him to the back. "No doing anything weird back there this is my dad's car." Tatum just laughed and Stu stuck his tounge out shaking it at you in protest. "Oh shit I forgot I've got to study for that exam tomorrow. I have to get home." Stu started to boo and Tatum echoed her boyfriend. "We'll only be gone a couple hours Syd."

"I have to pass this test Billy. You go ahead and go. You guys have fun!" She grabbed her bag and headed off towards the busses. Billy sat in the passenger seat again same aggravated look on his face. "Would it kill you to smile?" You asked lightheartedly. He turned to you flashing the fakest smile you'd ever seen. "See was that so hard?" Sarcasm dripping off your words. "Incredibly."

The mall wasn't hard to find after Tatum gave you some directions. You weren't sure how this little outing would go. On one hand it was nice having friends and spending time with people but on the other you and Billy were third wheeling. You had only been through half the stores and Stu already managed to spend an egregious amount. "Ooh help me pick out a set." Tatum said pulling Stu into the Victoria's Secret. Billy followed them in so you had no choice but to follow suit. "Do you have a boyfriend?" Billy asked as he touched the lace fabric on a teddy. "Odd question to ask considering you have a girlfriend."

"Fuck me for trying to make conversation." You laughed and decided to play along. "I do. We're trying the whole long distance thing." Billy found it hard to make eye contact with you. Choosing to play with and pick up anything around him to keep his hands busy. "He's probably cheating you know? Teenage boys do that." You're beginning to think both him and Stu have absolutely no filter. "Probably but it's not the like the guys around here are any better. I mean look at you and Stu." You're eyes flickered over to Stu holding up a bra to his chest declaring he was a girl. With a shake of the head you turn back to Billy. His eyes met with yours and for the first time he didn't advert his gaze. "Do you wear anything like this?" He gestured towards the thongs and see through bras.

"Nah I'm more into ropes and whips." You joke thinking if anyone would find it funny he would. His eye grew just a tiny bit wider surprised at your response. His lips quirked upwards a small smirk playing at his mouth. "I'm kidding!" Your face grew hot as he looked back down at what you were wearing. "No you're not. You're a freak. It's always the nice girls." Scoffing at that you wiped your hands down your dress trying to pull it further down your legs.

He smiled knowing he was making you uncomfortable. "You're a real creep you know that?" He held up in hands in fake surrender. "You caught me." Tatum shouted your name from across the store. "That's my que." You had no idea where she was or what she was doing. "She's in the dressing room I offered to help but ya know." He raised his eyebrows suggestively as if you didn't already know what he meant.

"Tatum it's me." You knocked on the door and it opened immediately. Her arm stuck out grabbing you and pulling you in. "You've got to stop doing that." You said in a hushed voice. "Opinions?" She said as she spun around practically naked. The red lace nightie left little to the imagination. "Um I think it looks cute. It doesn't cover much does it?" You ask and she laughed. "That's the point silly. You don't think it makes me look fat?" She was so skinny you worried about were her organs were let alone be over weight. "You look fine hun. I'm gonna go check on the guys." She said alright and let you slip out of the dressing room.

"We got you something." Stu shook the bag in front of your face startling you. "He got it." Billy spoke up as you took the bag from Stu. "No you grabbed it and said it would-" A swift punch to the ribs shut the blonde boy up. "Don't open it till later." Billy said and for some reason you agreed. "Is she about done in there?" The door opened and Tatum eagerly ran to the checkout desk. Stu like a puppy followed right behind her leaving you and Billy alone again.

"What did you get me?" Once again his eyes were on the floor. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He quipped his eyes finally reaching your face. "I would. That's why I asked." You both smiled at the small reenactment. "You didn't have to get me anything especially from here." He grabbed the bag from you tying the ribbon strings together. "Don't get too excited it's not a ball gag or anything." You smacked his arm snatching the bag back. "Plus I didn't pay for it. Rich boy over there did." He pointed at Stu.

"I'm hitting up Spencer gifts who's coming with me?" Going into that store with Stu was probably the dumbest thing you could do. "I'm in." You said mentally regretting it. "I'll go where you go." Tatum said as she hugged his arm. The last one to go was Billy. "Let's just get this over with." Stu practically ran to the opposite end of the mall with Tatum tossed over his shoulder. "There's no way your feet aren't killing you." Billy said looking down at your heels.

"I grew up in high heels mister. I could run in these bad boys if I had to." You weren't kidding. Growing up in a household where you had church every Sunday and you only had one pair of sneakers, you could run in heels. "I doubt that." He was getting more comfortable around you. Billy didn't even realize it. He used to be fun. He used to screw around and let loose like Stu does. Since his mom left and the world seemed to collapse around him he just had one to many stabs in the back.

"Wanna race?" He looked at you with a childlike curiosity. He would win he knew that much. Considering his murderous tendencies he could beat you in ten seconds flat. "I run to the store and if you catch me before I get there you win. What do you say?" Before he could answer you took off running. It was supposed to be fun for the both of you. A little game of cat and mouse. What you didn't realize was how seriously he would take it. The simple sound of his boots gaining up on you was terrifying. Your laughter stopped as you sped up.

You ran around people, who were then pushed out of the way by Billy. This was no longer a game. He was trying to catch you. The click of your heels got faster and faster till you ran into someone. "Woah there what's going on?" You looked up and saw Stu waiting at the door of Spencer's. You won. Billy was just two steps behind you the entire time. "Damnit!" He exclaimed appearing genuinely pissed that he didn't grab you. Tatum chimed in asking him what the hell was going on. After all to them it seemed like something horribly wrong had happened. "We were just playing. I told him we'd race each other." You looked back at Billy trying to catch his breath.

"Billy Loomis playing a game? Now that's unheard of." Stu gasped as he walked in the store. You approached Billy deciding to check on him. Your hand touched his shoulders as they heaved up and down. "Are you okay?" His hand wrapped around your wrist tighten enough to bare pain. "I'm fine." He flung your hand away, leaving you behind as he walked in the store. So much for that. It was hot and cold with him. You couldn't figure it out and you weren't sure if you wanted to.

Stu and Tatum were over in the novelty section making dirty jokes and just getting on each other's nerves. You didn't know where Billy went. You walked to the back of the store ignoring the adult toy section. You looked down at your stockings noticing the big rip on your right leg. "Shit!" You cursed picking at the hole. Going through the short selection of stockings they had to offer you finally settled on a pair. They were thigh highs which is something you usually didn't wear. Victoria's secret bag and stockings in hand you walked up to the cashier and paid.

Afterwards you met up with Stu and Tatum who were as equally ready to leave as you were. "Where's Billy?" She asked. "I have no idea." Stu leaned over trying to peak into the Spencer bag. "You get something from the back?" You did but you weren't going to be honest about it. "I did. I got it for Tatum though. She deserves at least six inches." She started to laugh as Stu acted all dramatic. "Ha ha really funny. Go ahead laugh it up. I'll have you know she's perfectly content with what she's got." Tatum shook her head making you laugh even harder. "You guys ready to go?"

"Where'd you go?" You asked Billy as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Bathroom." You're not sure what you did to piss him off. Is he butthurt that you beat him in a race? That can't be it he's not 5. He shouldn't be upset by such a small thing. "Let's go bitches!" Stu and Tatum walked hand in hand once again leaving you and Billy to talk. "Did I do something wrong?" You ask gingerly not to upset him further. "No." Another one word answer.

"We can race again. I'll let you catch me this time. I'll play dead and everything if you'd like." You laughed trying everything in your power to make him tolerate you again. "You would?" You weren't being serious but if that's what it took so be it. "If you'll stop being mad at me I will." That somehow put a smile on his face. "Should I start running?" You joke and he actually chuckles. "No no. We'll save that for later."

Everyone makes their way to your car getting in the same seats as before. "I know where Stu lives where do you two live?" You sit your bags in the floor next to Billy's black combat boots. "I'm going to her house before I go home so you can take me there. She's going to take me home before they pick up Sydney." She proceeds to giggle at the admission. "Just drop me off at Stu's" Billy says as he slicks his hair back. "Do you live at Stu's place?" You start the car leaving the mall in your rearview mirror. "Stu's parents are never home so they practically live together."

Billy looked out the window not making eye contact with anyone in the car. "Means I throw the best damn parties our school has ever seen." Stu and Tatum rejoiced in the back. That fact left more questions than answers. It made sense why Stu seemed to be so flippant with money. It even explained his overall behavior. Billy's case however was different. How bad was it at his house that he needed to live with Stu? In all honesty you felt bad for both the boys.

"Hey Billy open the glove compartment and play something." He did as told until he saw the contents of the glove box. "What the hell?" He said as he pulled out an 8 track. "Listen my dad had an 8 track player put in back in the 70s so that's all I got." With a smile on his face he dug through all the boxes.

Pushing the tape into the car AC/DC blasted through the speakers. "How'd I know you'd pick that one?" He carefully put all the tapes back where he got them. "I have good taste what can I say?" He shrugged. First stop was Tatum's house. She gave you the directions which you quickly found out she lives on the same street as you. "Your lights on upstairs is your dad home? I saw your car in the driveway this morning." Tatum asked pointing at your house. Fuck. "So this is where the mysterious Betty Crocker lives." Stu laughed putting on his best Vincent Price voice. Billy was just satisfied in knowing where you live. "Yeah my dad is. He's probably sleeping though he's got to get up early in the morning which means I've have to get home so scoot." You waved the couple out of your car quickly.

You pulled away getting just a couple houses down the road before your car began to stall. "What's wrong?" Billy asked as you look around. "I don't know it hasn't done this before." You turned the car off and on again but nothing happened. "Does it have gas?" You didn't get gas. The crumpled 100 was still shoved in your purse. "Son of a bitch." You cursed as you hit the steering wheel. "Hop out I've got to go get the gas can out of my garage."

"Do I get a house tour?" You stayed quiet genuinely upset at your ignorance. "Listen when we go inside I want you to be quiet. Okay?" Billy nodded as you unlocked your front door. "Holy shi-" You immediately covered his mouth. "I told you to be quiet." Slowly you pulled your hand away and he stepped into the house. "What year do you think it is?" You shut the door as quietly as possible knowing your dad could get up at anytime. "Oh shut up." Billy looked around at the old pictures, the old decor, really the old everything. Billy didn't come from rich parents like Stu. Your house was definitely bigger and better but it didn't have the rich person feel. Billy's house wasn't the problem for him, it was the people in it. It used to be a happy home but all that was waiting for him now was alcohol and fights.

While you sat your bags down he looked around the place. It looked like no one had bought anything new for the place since the 70s. The TV in the living room was 90% wood and the kitchen was a tacky yellow. All the appliances on the counters had to be at least 20 years old. Hell the phone on the wall was a rotary dial phone. Billy felt like he was walking into the Myers house.

"Let's go!" You whisper yelled at him the heavy gas can pulling on your arm. "Give it to me." Billy grabbed the can with ease helping you out the front door. He went ahead and filled the car up for you so you could run the empty can back inside. "Thank you." You said with a huff throwing yourself in the driver seat. "It's nothing." He replied already ready to go. Before you did anything you peeled the heels off your feet tossing them in the back seat. The next to come off were your ripped stockings. Billy watched as your upper thigh was exposed. He could see the hem of your pink underwear before you caught him.

"Perv." You smiled knowing he had to be a little flustered. He just shook his head looking at the ceiling. You threw the stockings in the back seat with your shoes. Billy cleared his throat trying to start up a conversation."Your house is nice." You breathed out a laugh as you started the car. "You don't have to lie."

Billy's demeanor changed once again. Now that it was just you and him he had one leg bent on the seat so his body could face towards you. Even though your eyes were on the road you could feel his burning holes in you. "I mean it. It's different. Better than all those rich bitches we go to school with." He wasn't lying. It was hard to find anyone who had an actual personality these days.

"I know it's not everyone's cup of tea. My dad doesn't really care what I do with the house as long as there is food on the table when he gets home." Billy bit his lip in thought. "So you did all of that?" He found it impressive to say the least. "Not really. I haven't messed with much since my grandparents passed. The way the kept things always seemed nice as a kid. And I don't see the sense in wasting money on new stuff when I've got perfectly good old stuff that works." He saw the way your eyes grew wide when Stu handed you that hundred. You're not a money person. You were modest. Going through the mall you only bought one thing for yourself while Tatum begged for everything she saw.

"How often is your dad gone?" He asked. A dangerous question to answer if Billy's asking it. "He can be gone for weeks at a time. He's a truck driver. He goes where his boss tells him to go." The car goes quiet for a little while. Luckily for you it's comfortable. "What about you? How's your mom and dad?" You meant nothing hateful by it and he knew that. "I live with my dad too. My parents split up." You could feel him putting those walls back up. It was night and day with Billy. Slowly you car came to a stop in Stu's driveway. "My mom isn't in the picture either. You know if that shit ever starts to bother you, you can call me. As long as your girlfriends okay with it that is." You grabbed a pen out of the glove compartment gently pulling Billy's hand towards your lap.

His hand sat on top of your right thigh as you touched the tip of the pen to your tongue. Carefully your wrote down your phone number where the numbers were visible. Billy for the first time in awhile, he was the one who was scared. Scared of moving even the tiniest bit. A simple harsh breath would ruin whatever this was. Softly you brought his hand up to your face blowing cool air on the drying ink. "There ya go." You tossed his hand back, your gentle nature now gone. "But um yeah if you ever need to talk you can call me."

Funny enough he didn't want to call you. "Sure." Was all he could muster up. Billy finally decided he didn't want you dead like the rest of them. You were kind enough not to piss people off but you were sure of what you wanted. Too trusting, yes but it definitely helped his case. He'd have to make a new plan one that doesn't get you hurt. Well, one that doesn't get you killed.

Part 3

[teaboot]

I'm Singaporean, I just saw the posts about schools in Canada vs Korea and now I'm kinda curious how things vary within this half of Asia.

Looking at your questions for the Korean asker, dyeing your hair isn't allowed but how strict the teachers will be about it probably depends on school. My secondary school (age 13-16) had one teacher who made a classmate with (presumably naturally) lighter brown hair dye it black, which was hilarious. If necessary for explanation, it was a Christian school with pretty strict rules on grooming no one had the energy to follow leading up to graduation.

We have uniforms up until you finish secondary school, then it depends on where you go. You have to buy them yourself unless you're on financial assistance or getting some kind of government subsidy, in which case I'm not sure how it works exactly.

And now the actual asking part of this ask: do y'all split math up into different subjects and if so, why??

Kids had to dye their hair to match as a group? What the fuck???? What the hell does hair matter???? Then again... bra straps and shorts don't matter either, and those are restricted everywhere, so maybe school is just dumb everywhere.

And math!!! Not super sure what you mean, but until about grade 10 here in BC all math is taught in one math class that's just "math". In grade 10 you can take precalculus or... the other one? And the idea is that Precalculus is for students going into university and the other one was for students going into trades. You NEEDED precalculus to go on to higher learning, is what we were told.

"Math" was just all math. Multiplication, geometry, algebra, etc.

"Precalculus" was all the basic skills meant to prep for calculus used in STEM stuff- polynomials, trigonometry, more algebra, that junk.

I failed it hard two times but passed the government exam so they weren't allowed to fail me again.

Also I'm good at math so they can kiss my ass now 👍

[konigsluvr]

SWEET 『cigarettes after sex』

MASTERLIST

popular girl x quiet nerd simon

warnings: kissing, horny and simp simon, cuming untouched. And sweetness ♡

cute little series I'm starting. I hope you like this as much as I do. Enjoy and leave any comments on where I can improve, but please be nice, I'm sensitive 💋 this isn't proofread as its currently just past midnight and I'm sleepy and don't want to overthink about posting this. xxx

『★』

Simon thought you didn't notice him staring at you all year. You're popular and he's... a nerd. The amount of picking on you would endure if you did anything with him... you didn't want to think about it.

Yet you couldn't help but smile at your Math teacher as he assigned Simon - the top of the class - to help you with your studies.

Here's the catch, you act dumb and stupid to fit in with your friend group when in reality, whenever there's a test, you never fail to achieve the A+.

"You won't be disappointed," you respond, heading out of class to see it empty.

None of your friends waited for you after class but you brush that aside, looking around for Simon. A minute later, you find him by his locker, taking all of his books and transferring them into his bag.

The bell rings, signaling the end of the school day. "Hi Simon," your sweet voice rang out.

He jumps, dropping his bag, his books scattering on a pile at your feet. He stumbles over his words, eyes wondering over your gorgeous face. His mind was reeling at the fact you knew his name?!

"I... uhh..." he clears his throat, gathering himself. His crush, his godamn crush since forever, is talking to him. Him. "Everything okay?" His voice steadies out, playing it cool.

Your lips quirk, not realising his voice was so deep. You have to look up, yourself standing at 5'5 and him standing at 6'2. You're both 17, so there's still growing to occur.

"Yes, everything's good," you speak, unable to stop your gaze to trailing to his arms. Its so obvious he works hard at the gym. "Mr Barnes assigned you as my study partner."

His eyes widen slightly, taken aback. "Me and... you. Study partners?" He speaks slowly.

He sees your eyebrows furrow. Fuck sake, idiot, he curses in his mind, being an asshole isn't the way to go.

"Um, yeah, for Maths. My grades have dropped so..." You trail off. Does he not like you? You were so sure. He's always glancing at you.

His pause makes you reinforce the idea he's never liked you. "I'll get a new partner," you speak, beginning to step away.

He grabs your wrist, and your eyes snap to his. God, your eyes and politeness... is he still grabbing you? He is! Fuck! Think, think, think!

"Tomorrow after school?" He questions, way too nervous. He bets you can feel his hand shaking. "Your place?" Too bold, Simon.

But you smile, warm, lovely. "Sure, meet here after the last period?" Your unable to tear your gaze from his stunning chocolate eyes, so attentive and aware.

He finally let's go of your hand, relief filling him. He nods, feeling much too shy to speak.

You return the smile and walk by him. As you walk to the main doors, you turn and wave goodbye, and he is already looking at you. You see his lips form a small grin and wave back subtly.

『★』

"Today was so boring," you huff out to Simom as he sits in the passenger. He sits too still, scared to make the wrong move in case you would call off this whole thing.

You find it funny he didn't respond. So you ask a question as you turn out of the car park and drive to your house, which is fifteen minutes away. "How was your day?"

He takes a few moments to reply, "good," his deep voice speaks. You wait for him to elaborate but he doesn't. The truth his, his day has been terrible but his mood is ecstatic (on the inside) about being with you.

Fifteen whole minutes, he had to sit there and pretend he didn't care. Staying silent like a complete douchbag. The smell of your perfume, your pretty outfit - a black jumper, faded blue jeans, Converse, pretty earrings, hair, and makeup. Just you simply being next to him made him hard, his mind running wild.

No, no, no, no. He needs to respect you. He's 17, not a little boy. He is a virgin after all, you definitely were not. The amount of stupid boys that took your attention will never deserve you in all the lifetimes. He's stronger, more respectful, just so, so much better for you. He noticed your smile was strained and he wanted to punch every asshole that made you like that. He covers his crotch with his hands, hoping you don't notice his hand placement.

He's so wrapped up in his own thoughts that you opening your car door and exiting snaps him out of it. He ushers out, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he takes in your families property. A simple, modern but classy home. Adorable. His gaze quickly returns to you, pausing as he sees your looking at him already.

"You work out?" You question, noticing he's wearing a black sleeved long sleeved gym shirt. He wore it just for you. It shows off his muscles perfectly.

"Six days a week," he speaks, trying to show off a little. Douche, again. But you smile and he smiles back.

"I do pilates sometimes," you reply, walking up to your front door. Pilates, Simon thinks of you doing the workout, so feminine and simple.

You both enter and you close the door behind you both. "Would you like a drink?" You ask innocently, looking up at him. You knew you were standing too close.

He swallows thickly, his gaze glancing down to your lips for a sweet second. He got even harder. For fuck sake, Simon. Answer the damned question! "Water would be nice, thanks."

You nod. "My room is upstairs, down the hall to the right," you speak, turning and walking to the kitchen.

He stands there silent for a few moments, watching your body sway. He shakes his head. Stop it now, he thinks. He walks up the stairs as he takes in everything about his small journey. At the end of the hallway, there's a picture of younger you.

He always knew you were an only child, makes sense how much you're put together with your parents attention focused on one child. He can't help but smile, seeing how cute you are. You must've been around 5 or 6 he's guessing, your eyes still the same sweetness.

He enters your room and sits on the edge of your bed, looking around once again. Clean, tidy, and... pink. Lots of light pink and white everywhere. Now he knows what your favourite colours are. Bingo.

He hears your soft footsteps coming up. He takes a quick breath, needing to calm his nerves desperately. Just your presence has him all giddy. You enter the room and close the door behind you.

"Here you are," you talk softly, handing him his water. You sit further up on your bed so you're in the middle of it. He thinks for a moment, copying you timidly. You face him. "I hope you like popcorn."

He nods, looking down, noticing you have a bowl of popcorn. Now he knows your favourite snack. Bingo, again!

You relax for a little while, scrolling on your phone as you chew on some popcorn while Simon takes sips of his drink here and there.

You come off your phone and hear your mother coming into your room. You have no time to prepare yourself or to even warn Simon, but he's already looking at her.

"Hi sweet girl!" Your mother exclaims happily, entering the room, hands on her hips. "How was school-" she cuts herself off, finally noticing Simon. She grins. "And who is this handsome boy?"

"Mom!" You scold, stepping off your bed, ready to usher her out, but she pulls you into a hug, kissing your cheek. You turn back at Simon, and he's gazing with a gentle expression, happy to see you and your mother's bond. "His name is Simon," you respond, pulling out of the hug.

Simon feels a slight blush form on his cheeks, shy once more. Your mom stops gazing at him too fondly for your liking and whispers in your ear, "he's a sweet one, I can tell."

You smile at her and glance back at Simon. "He's helping me with Math," you reveal.

Your mother's face brightens. "That's amazing, honey! Anyways, I'll leave you two to it, don't forget to lock the door-"

"Mom," you scold firmly this time. You love her dearly and you know she can tell that you like Simon.

She winks at you and leaves. You close the door and lock it. Simons muscles tense. You locked it? He doesn't want to think any further but he can see a blush on your face too.

『★』

Two hours. Two whole hours, Simon has spent one on one, simply inches away from each other. He easily covers his straining cock by having the popcorn bowl in front of it. He holds back jolts when you reach your hand for a snack.

You spent half the time looking at him and the other half wondering how his voice is so matured and dreamy. You did all the questions from your homework book and you played dumb on a few so he could lean in and explain it.

Simon grew comfortable in your presence. You are warm, soft and gentle. Everything he loves is you.

The thing he didn't expect at all was when you kissed him. You fucking kissed him. You and him! Kissing! He was explaining the most boring equation of all, leaning in more close, taking the pencil from your hand, your hands brushing together. He talks and continues talking when you catch gazes, noses nearly touching.

He wasn't sure whether Math turned you on? Or having someone tell you what to do? He was completely at loss, but once your lips touched his, the gates of heaven opened. You tasted of strawberries, sweet and addictive.

It was such a brief kiss, lasting a few seconds at most. His jaw goes slack afterwards. It was just a kiss, you don't want anything else. Maybe your thanking him for helping you? Both your hands stayed down at your lap, same with his. He's afraid if he touched you, he would never let go.

Should he confess? You've been staring dumbly at each other for about 30 seconds now.

"You're getting the hang of everything," he whispered smoothly. You sigh, feeling yourself growing wet. He was so good-looking and kind, too kind. He was huge, height and muscle wise, but his hands were so gentle.

In the moment, you place the popcorn on your beside table and climb on his lap. His eyes blow wide open as you take his face and lock your lips together once more. He moans into the kiss, making you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.

He opens his legs, hands hesitantly holding onto your waist. Should he push you away or hold you closer? You deserved so much better than him. He's never kissed anyone before, and he's probably doing horrible. But he picks option two, he pulls you closer, fingertips pawing at your waist. He was right, warm, and soft.

You tilt your head, deepening the kiss, poking your tongue into his mouth, and he let's you, opening his lips, getting drunk off your taste. You sigh into the kiss. He's really good. You wonder how many girls he's been with, jealousy plaguing your mind.

You grind down on him, hips moving back and forth, needy to calm down your pulsing clit. He was rock solid. You swallow up his strangled moan, hips bucking up into yours like a pathetic mess.

Your hands move behind you, taking his hands and placing them on your asscheeks. He squeezes, becoming lost in everything you're doing. He wants to be in your mind, what are you thinking right now?

He pulls away and you look at him confused. His expression was pure pleasure. "Shit, no- fuck-" he groans, pressing his forehead against your shoulder.

"What's wrong?" You speak softly, stroking his hair. Due to you leaning more down, your clothed pussy was right against him. He felt his stomach tighten, pleasure rippling through his body. Don't cum, don't you fucking dare, Simon. If you speak once more with that honey voice of yours he's done for.

"Simon?" You whisper, hearing his breathing come out in quick pants. He whines into your shoulder, and you stare at your wall, completely confused. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you down onto him as he jerks his hips up a few times, riding out his pleasure.

"Are you..." you pause, thinking about the situation. You saw he was hard, it was obvious with the grey sweatpants he was wearing. But did he seriously just cum under a minute of kissing?

You wait until his breathing goes normal, his body relaxing. You try to get up off him, but he holds onto you tightly.

"I'm sorry," he speaks, the most embarrassed he's ever been. He's made you uncomfortable. He knows it. A disgusting pervert, that's what he is. He pulls his head from your neck, missing the smell of you. He looks up at you half-lidded.

Your hands stroke his cheeks. You grin. "Did you cum?" You speak gently.

He swallows, wanting to look away, blushing furiously. "...yes."

"Don't think you weren't so sneaky with the popcorn bowl," you respond, laughing as you watch his reaction to you catching him out.

He groans, resting his head against yours. He's dreading at the thought of letting you go. The prettiest, sweetest girl ever. So soft and warm, he thinks, sighing.

You laugh, making his head snap up at the sound. "Thank you."

He wants to throw himself off a cliff. He said that out loud. For the love of-

"I take care if my skin," you respond, cupping his face, "all over."

He feels himself grow hard again and that's when he can't be close to you anymore. Crossing boundaries is something he doesn't do, especially around you.

You yelp as he lifts you off him, not a muscle straining, carrying you like your as light as a feather. He places you on the bed and he stands up, covering the dark patch on the crotch of his sweatpants.

You giggle, covering your mouth. "I can give you a t-shirt of mine to cover up."

He nods. "Thanks."

You get up, grabbing a random t-shirt and handing it to him. You gaze up at him, tilting your head. He didn't understand how you were looking at him so happily, he was an asshole to you and was disrespectful-

"Would you like a ride?" You question.

He allows his eyes to admire you for a while before responding. "It's okay, my house is just five minutes away."

"It is?" You question, your smile widening.

He swallows. Damn you, you're teasing him. "See you tomorrow," he grumbles, walking to your door.

"Wait!" You exclaim, grabbing his book bag and handing it to him. You lean up, holding the back of his neck, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

His right hand itches forward to hold you, but he stops himself. No, you've already taken enough from her. What have you given her? The fucking creeps.

He simply nods, keeping his feelings to himself and walks down the hall. It takes every cell in his body to not look back at your face. He can feel your gaze trailing on him.

"Thanks for letting me stay," he thanks your mother, giving her a nod. But she squeals, hugging him close.

"My little love likes you, I can tell," she speaks hushed, not wanting you to hear. Don't give him hope, don't. His mind still races, even your mom can see it, your gaze with more shine as you look at Simon.

He nods again, brain running a million miles an hour to even form a sentence. He walks away from the kitchen and leaves through the door. He closes it behind him and walks down the drive.

He waits until he's completely off the property before grinning and laughing, all while holding your t-shirt to his crotch. The street is quiet, not a soul around. He walks away, an extra leap in his step, happiness fulfilling him.

All in one day, you met up with him, you drove him to your house, you studied in your room, you kissed and he... he cringed hard, not wanting to think about it. You had him wrapped around your finger. He keeps smiling, though. Next Thursday, he'll be with you again.

『★』

EEEEK SO CUTE!!

Guys, Simon is NOT a perv!! I just wanted to include his conflicted thoughts because he loves her so much and doesn't want to make her uncomfortable 🤧. I'm not sure how many parts I'm hoping on doing, mayyyyybe 4... or 5... 😙. For you smut girlies, yes, there WILL be smut in upcoming parts and I hope my writing will be up to your expectations. Have a lovely day💗

Also!! Please note I am not trying to sexualise the characters at all, they will be turning 18 soon and it isn't a shock to anyone that they are doing these kinds of this at 17🤭

[cheezeybread]

I just finished finals and I need the twst boys to suffer. I need a oneshot with the first year squad needing to solve algebra, chemistry, Literature, etc. All the crap we've had to put up with in normal school I wanna subject them to it. Ace making fun of us for not understanding magic homework? Tough shit, now the bastard has to solve these functions and figure out some parabolas!

Make the boys suffer, I can get behind that idea 😎

Also, I saw somewhere that someone hc'd Deuce as having a learning disability or some type of dyslexia? I think it works so well with him saying he had issues with school and not having good grades no matter how hard he worked at it.

⚛》》》◆《《《⚛

"I hate this!" Deuce muttered harshly, his eyes watery and half-closed. He had been staring at the same problem for the past twenty minutes, nothing more than an erased question mark to show for all his efforts.

"Boohoo, bastard, try being as clever as me, maybe," Ace shot back, sounding like the confident prick he was. However, when you glanced down at his paper, you could see tear stains on it, and the sheer amount of damage done to it by being erased so many times.

You sighed, leaning your head back on the sofa. Sitting on the floor, working on your seperate homework on the coffee table, were you, Ace, Deuce, and Grim (of course Grim was piled up on a bunch of books to be able to see his work. And so that you could make sure he wasn't cheating). Unfortunately for everyone, it was the time of year for exams. Right before winter break let out, you had to fight for your freedom. And unfortunately for the boys, NRC was a college- which meant that while it was also a "Magic-specialized" school, it had other classes, as well. Such as basic World History, English, Non-magical science, and math. Fortunately for you, the Math and English were close enough to the same ones back at home that you already knew most of it.

So you were coursing through the classes with grace and ease, leaving your friends stumbling and begging for help with their own classes.

For once, you were at top! No more were you this magicless human that they felt like they had to defend....well, you still were, technically, but now you were more known as the smart person who could help tutor the other Freshmen.

And since they were oh, so desperate for your help, you were able to charge thaumarks per tutoring session. With special discounts for your closer friends, of course.

Maybe the amount of power was starting to go to your head. Or maybe Azul had finally rubbed off on you. Either way, you had some extra money in your pocket for once, and you could afford to buy snacks! Snacks! For you to eat! And other fun little gidgets and gizmos that you could only stare at wistfully in shop windows!

Through the sessions, you had learned everyone's weaknesses and what subjects they needed help on the most.

Deuce had issues with English classes- mainly reading difficult passages and understanding them. You suspected he had dyslexia or some other type of learning disability. But you found that if you read the passage out loud slowly, he was able to retain the knowledge better.

Ace had issues with math. Specifically graphs and the mathematical equations that went with them. Parabolas, Quadratic formulas, you name it! it made him want to tear his hair out....and it made you want to bash his head into a wall just helping him. But if you worked out a problem a few times, he would eventually understand it. Maybe. Until the next problem, and then he'd forget it all over again.

Jack had issues with World History. All he kept saying was that if he couldn't smell it, it didn't matter well enough. To which you always had to reply with "that's dumb". Dates and times were definitely not his strong suit. But! If you mentioned Riddle during your tutoring sessions, Jack would work much harder at memorizing information. It was almost like he wanted Riddle to be impressed with him...even though Riddle was never at any of the study sessions.

Epel also struggled with English. He didn't understand why he had to find out what the text meant with a whole buncha "metaphors" and stuff. "The author meant what they wrote, didn't they? Why should I have to put a buncha words into their mouth???" But once you explained to him that the teacher wanted to see what Epel himself thought about the text, it all clicked for him. Now he just made up some semi-passable nonsense as his answers.

And Sebek...well, he was Sebek. He struggled a little bit with all of it, in his own way. But having Malleus sit in with some of the study sessions was remarkably helpful. You only had to help Sebek twice before he started doing better on his own.

"YNnnnnnnnNNNNN!" Ace groaned, giving up his false sense of confidence "I'm tiiiiiiired." There was a thud, and you glanced over to see Ace's head up against the table.

"Hey, back to work," You said, thumping the side of his head "Or you could keep resting and just pay me for another session. You know what, honestly, do whatever you want. It's your exam you're gonna flunk, not mine."

"You're such a tyrant..." Ace grumbled, begrudgingly lifting his head just enough to be able to write on his paper.

"No, even Riddle doesn't charge us for study sessions," Deuce chuckled tearfully, rubbing one of his eyes "They're more like Azul."

"Boohoo, bastard," You stuck your tongue out, mimicking Ace's insult from earlier.

Deuce opened his mouth to retort, but his expression changed to confusion "Actually, wait- where's Grim at?"

A glance towards the empty spot at the table, and it was clear the direbeast was gone.

"Crap," You hissed, standing up quickly, wondering what sort of mischief he had gotten into now.

There was a thundering boom from the kitchen. Grim had stuck his homework in the oven to hide it from you, but put the oven at 500 degrees to get rid of the evidence quicker....which led to the old thing exploding.

Needless to say, Grim did not earn any more tutoring sessions from you.

⚛》》》◆《《《⚛

[roosterforme]

Old Habits Die Hard Part 17 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: As graduation comes and goes, you and Bradley share some firsts and some lasts. 

Warnings: Angst, swears, fluff and smut

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (fuckboy college student Bradley)

Check out my masterlist

Bradley held your hand while you waited in the long line to get fitted for caps and gowns. You kept reaching up to turn his hat to the side, and he kept turning it backwards. But he finally gave up and let it stay crooked. 

"Damn," you muttered as you inched along through the gymnasium. "How many people are in our graduating class?"

"No idea, Sugar. You're the math whiz. Not me."

You rolled your eyes and looked up at him. "You know how our classes are kind of just a formality right now?"

"Yeah," he responded a bit skeptically. 

"And how we'll probably ace all of our finals next week without even studying very much?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"And you know how pretty soon we'll be almost a thousand miles apart?"

Bradley leaned in close and kissed your nose. "What are you getting at, Sugar?"

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his nose in retaliation, earning you a laugh. "Well, what if we just skip all of our classes after this and do something fun?"

As you both inched closer to the front of the line, Bradley asked, "What did you have in mind?" 

"Anything. I just want to spend time with you." 

Bradley smirked at you while you got measured side by side, and then he finally said, "How about we hang out in the study room?"

You smirked right back at him. "I know what that means, Beer Boy."

"I know you know what that means, Sugar."

With navy blue caps and gowns wrapped up in plastic, you and Bradley raced down the sidewalk to the library. The librarian greeted both of you by name, something that still made Bradley marvel since he had never visited the library prior to January. 

Bradley followed you as quietly as possible through the stacks and toward the study rooms. But every so often, you turned back to look at him, and he couldn't help laughing. 

When the door was gently closed, and Bradley had wedged a chair under the doorknob, he pressed you back against the wooden surface.

"I heard you're graduating at the top of your major," he whispered, gently running his fingers down the front of your leggings. 

"You heard right," you replied with pride in your voice as you tipped your head to the side and let him kiss your neck. 

"Hmm, you must be pretty smart then." Bradley basked in the sound of you moaning as he teased you.

You gasped as he sucked on your neck hard enough to leave a mark. "Yeah...you could say that." You tossed his hat to the floor, and your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging softly and sending a thrill through him.

"I love smart girls," he murmured, and now he was working one hand down inside your leggings and pressing you back against the door with the other. "I love kissing them until they sound stupid. And I love touching them until they sound so fucking dumb."

"Bradley," you groaned as his fingers found your sweet spot. "Feels good."

"You want a little more?" he asked, pressing his hardness against your thigh. He felt your hands scrambling for the front of his jeans as you nodded, and your lips parted for him to devour your mouth as he slipped a finger into your pussy. "Don't worry about me. I'm going to get you off first."

Slowly your hands drifted up the front of his shirt until you were grasping his shoulders. Bradley finger fucked you against the door until your legs were shaking and you started gettting loud.

"Shh," he whispered, but he had to cover your mouth with his hand when you came. "Sugar, you're so loud for me." He rammed his fingers into you so hard, you were squeezing your eyes shut as you shook. "It's okay."

Bradley watched your eyes open and flutter closed again as he removed his hand from inside you. "Fuck me," you whispered as your fingers languidly unzipped his jeans, and Bradley scrambled to get a condom out of his wallet.

"Shit!" he groaned as your fingers wrapped around his cock. "We used the last one yesterday, and I never replaced it."

But you were easing him back toward one of the chairs. "That's okay. I think we could recreate the first time you got me off in here."

Bradley sat down with his jeans and boxers around his thighs, and he watched intently as you removed your shoes and leggings. You kept on the tiny scrap of purple fabric that was supposedly your underwear, and you straddled Bradley's lap. When you held his cock in your hand and started grinding against him through your underwear, his head tipped back.

"Oh yeah, Sugar." He tipped his head forward to look at you working yourself against him. You were soaking your underwear with your wetness, and Bradley ran his hands along your hips, guiding you a little slower. He wanted to make this last. "Easy," he growled, but that seemed to push you over some sort of edge.

Your lips crashed against his, and both of your hands were all over his hair. You were grinding up and down his length, wiggling your clit against his balls each time you reached them.

"Fuck, Sugar," he said, practically panting. When you pulled away from his mouth, you looked as far gone as he felt. 

Bradley watched you yank your underwear to one side and slide down around him, and once again, fucking you without a condom had to be one of the best things he had ever felt.

Then he shook his head and said, "Sugar, is this a good idea?" But he had his hands wrapped around your hips, fingers digging into your ass as you rode him. 

"Mmhmm. My period is due today or tomorrow," you whispered against his scarred cheek. "Just tell me when you're going to cum, Beer Boy." Your voice was soft and breathless, and your pussy was fucking tight. And Bradley wanted to live in this study room with you for the rest of his life.

Your lips and hands were everywhere as you rolled your hips and moaned his name. And when Bradley was tracing the column of your neck with his tongue, he knew he was close. 

"Sugar. I'm going to cum." You kept riding him, kept rolling your perfect hips, and he was too close now. "Sugar!"

You withdrew him just in time, sinking to your knees in between his thighs. You wrapped your lips around him, pumped one time with your hand, and he was cumming hard in your mouth. 

Bradley watched you sputter for a second before you swallowed all of him down. He was still thrusting a bit in your hand as you kissed his tip and licked him clean.

The words were on the tip of his tongue now, but he knew this wasn't the right time to say them. He just hauled you up onto his lap and said, "I love this study room," instead.

-------------------------

After you and Bradley managed to pull your clothing back on, he removed the chair from underneath the doorknob, and you curled up on his lap just like you'd been doing for months. 

"I'm going to miss this," you whispered so softly, you weren't sure he would even be able to hear you. 

"Me too," he told you with his chest pressed against yours, and you didn't know how to tell him that you had agreed to move into your dormitory in Chicago early. You had already started packing up your clothing, boxes stacked up in your closet. You'd be leaving Virginia the day after graduation, a full two weeks before Bradley. But leaving early was better than the alternative: staying without him from late May until your term started in August. 

Right now, you just wanted as much time with him now as you could possibly get. Getting your PhD had been your dream before you met Bradley, but that didn't make this any easier. 

"Sugar?" he asked, face buried against your shoulder. 

"Hmm?"

"How am I supposed to go months with you?" 

Your heart clenched at his words. "I'm not sure. I'm trying not to think about it."

He rubbed your back, soothing you so well, you could have fallen asleep if it didn't feel like your heart was about to break. 

"You know," he started, pausing for a few beats before continuing. "I thought I would be a lot more excited about leaving for flight school. But all I can think about is how much I'll miss you."

You nodded against him, trying to block out his words. This was his dream. It had been his dream his entire life! You felt like a roadblock. Bradley should have been allowed to feel excited for this opportunity, because he earned it. You thought he was smart and sweet, even if he would never agree with you. And now he was going to live his dream.

"Wish I was going to Chicago with you."

---------------------

Finals were over. Bradley ended up with such a high GPA, even he was shocked. But you weren't, apparently. You just told him you knew he had it in him.

He had started to pack up his stuff. He needed to sell or donate most of it, because he would barely need any of it. When he took his favorite tie dyed shirt out of his dresser, he smiled. He'd be sending you to Chicago with that one. He associated it with you now anyway. And he figured he'd get a lot of selfies of you wearing it around. 

For some reason your differential equations notebook always seemed to be on his desk. He figured you might want to take that one with you, so he set it aside as well. 

There was a soft knock on his door, and then you were opening it and rushing toward him for a hug. "Hi, Beer Boy," you said while you kissed him. But when Bradley got a good look at your face, he saw that it looked like you had been crying. 

"What's wrong, Sugar?" he asked, gently tipping your chin up when you tried to hide your face from him.

"Nothing."

"Seriously? You're crying. Tell me what's wrong." He took both of your hands and guided you to sit on his bed with him. "We graduate in a few days, and then we have two weeks together before I leave for Rhode Island. That's like two spring breaks!"

You laughed a little bit through your tears before your frown returned. "I have to tell you something."

"So tell me," he whispered, placing a kiss to your lips. 

You sucked in a deep breath and swallowed hard. "I'm leaving early. For Chicago. I'm leaving the day after graduation."

Bradley's jaw dropped open, and he stared at you. "Why?" he finally asked. Why, Sugar?"

You wrapped your arms around his neck and sniffed. "I can't wait around here until August without you. I can't. So when they invited me to go early, I told them I would."

He just nodded against you and said, "Okay. Okay." But it wasn't okay! Now he only had a few days with you! He wouldn't be able to do all of the things he wanted to do before you left. But he kind of did get it, because he would be miserable waiting here all summer without you. "I understand."

You seemed to sigh in relief as you hugged him, and soon Bradley was tugging off your clothing and pulling his tie dyed shirt over your head, kissing your tattoo in the process. "Let's snuggle?" he suggested, and you held him all night.

-----------------------

Maybe it made you petty, but perhaps the best part of your graduation ceremony was ending with a higher GPA than Jeff. You got to walk across the stage right before him, and it was announced that you had top marks for your major. 

You kind of wanted to turn around and give him the finger from the end of the stage, but you were too distracted. You had already watched Bradley walk across the stage in his cap and gown, and now you were looking for him in the crowd.

When you spotted him, you ran up to his row, squeezing in between him and Tyson. 

"I'm proud of you," Bradley whispered, lacing his fingers with yours. "And I'm so happy you're smarter than Jeff, because you can tell that it really irritates him."

You stifled a laugh as some students were still walking across the stage and accepting their diplomas. You looked up at Bradley, and it felt like it always did now. Like someone was trying to suffocate you. The same sadness was reflected in his eyes. 

You were flying to Chicago tomorrow. This was it. Your big day was here, and you were going off to actually have a chance to live out the plans you had made. But none of it felt right. 

"Will you come over tonight?" Bradley asked you softly. "One last night, Sugar? It'll be awhile before I get to hold you again."

You just nodded and did your best to hold back your tears. "I'll be there."

-------------------------

It was late when Bradley guided you into the Beta house with his arm draped around your waist. He was ready to take you upstairs and spend the night showing you how much he was going to miss you. But you stopped Bradley with your hand on his chest when you reached the kitchen door. "One more time, Beer Boy?" you asked with a smile. 

He led you inside and told you, "Go ahead, Sugar. Grab two of the good beers." You got two of the beers that you and he drank together the night you met, and he opened them. You and he took a few sips together in silence. 

"Hey, I thought you told me that nothing in here is off limits to me," you murmured. 

"That's right. Girlfriends are allowed whatever they want."

"You're in here, and I want you," you whispered, biting your lip. 

Bradley laughed and downed half of his beer. "You've had me since the moment I saw you. Maybe it took me a little while to get it together so I could have you, but I was yours."

You were in his arms so fast, Bradley almost dropped his beer bottle. 

"Don't say things like that," you begged him as you kissed his cheek and chin.

"Like what?" he asked you softly as he carried you toward the stairs. 

You sighed and your voice was breathy. "Things that make sense." 

Bradley set you down gently on his bed and you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him down until his lips were on yours. You were working your mouth softly, slowly against his. But he could still tell how much you needed him. 

The brush of your eyelashes against his cheek, and the feel of your fingers in his hair were making him go crazy for you. Just like he always did.

You eased yourself up onto your elbows, and Bradley carefully removed your shirt and bra. His mouth found your tattoo and tasted it immediately. The undersides of your soft breasts felt like heaven on his tongue. He was trying to memorize every sound you were making and everything he was feeling for you. 

"Bradley," you moaned, lifting your hips so he could remove your shorts and underwear. And now he was the one taking his time, kissing your legs as he went. 

"I'll miss you," he said, licking all the way up your slit before wrapping his lips around your clit. "I'll be thinking about this. A lot."

You were moaning his name, legs spread wide for him while he ate your pussy. When you started reaching for his jeans, Bradley eased his body over yours. 

"Tell me what you want, Sugar."

"I just want you." 

Bradley kissed you for a long time before he stood to take his clothes off. You watched him tonight just like you did the first night you spent with him. And as soon as he was rolling a condom on, you were reaching for his hand, pulling him back to you. 

As Bradley pushed himself inside you, he knew that as good as he felt in this moment, he was going to feel just as bad after tomorrow. So he listened to every sigh and moan you made. He let his hands explore your whole body. He fucked you like he needed to. He went slow. 

"You want to take your time," you gasped, caressing his necks and cheeks as he eased himself deep inside you.

"Make this last," he confirmed. And he didn't stop until you came, crying out while your body squeezed him as a few tears slid down your cheeks.

"You're so sweet, Sugar," he whispered against your skin. "I don't want to leave you. I'd rather go with you."

"Bradley," you whispered, keeping your arms around him for a long time. 

When he was finally soft inside you, and you started to move like you wanted to get up, Bradley grabbed his tee shirt and helped you put it on. "Will you take that to Chicago with you? It belongs with you."

"I'll wear it all the time," you promised.

Bradley watched you wipe your tears away, and you both got ready to try to sleep. Wordlessly, you pulled him against you in bed, your lips and breath on his neck as he held you. Bradley rubbed your back until he thought your breathing had evened out in sleep. 

"You don't know how easy it is to love you."

He sang softly to you, and you pulled him impossibly closer as he fell asleep.

------------------------

Bradley woke to his alarm going off. You needed time to get your things and head to the airport, and he wanted to make sure he had time to help you.

"Beer Boy," you murmured, your voice sleepy as you looked at him. 

Bradley pushed your hair out of your face and rubbed your cheek with his thumb. "You're beautiful."

You sucked in a shaky breath and he kissed you. But now you were holding back, and it was killing him. He ran his nose along yours and let his hands drift down over your body. You were grabbing at his back as he kissed along your neck, and you finally whispered, "One last time."

"One last time," he agreed with a soft smile. This was going to have to hold him over. 

You were more frantic now as you guided your body up and down his length. He wanted to look at you, but you were holding him so tight it was hard to even kiss you. 

"Sugar, take it easy. Slow down, smart girl."

"No," you muttered, and he could hear the tears in your voice. "I can't."

So Bradley held you and made love to you the way you needed it. And it still felt heavenly when you both came.

You tried to get up, but Bradley pulled you down against him with a kiss. He hopped up quickly to take care of the condom, and then he was back in bed next to you. 

Your gaze was distant as he pulled you close. "Sugar, I don't have any money yet, but when I get my first big Navy paycheck, I'll fly out to Chicago for the weekend. We don't have to wait until the September, okay? You can take me to the bean."

But you were sitting up now and shaking your head. "No."

Bradley sat up too, and pushed your hair back from your face.

"No?"

You started sobbing. "No. You can't come see me in Chicago."

"Why not?" he asked, but his throat was tight with the words. Then he recognized everything for what it was. "Sugar. That was goodbye sex. Wasn't it?"

You nodded your head a few times, your eyes pleading with his. And now he felt tears in his as well.

"We need to break up," you said, your voice catching on the words. "I can't hold you back."

Bradley's arms were around you in an instant. "No, Sugar. Don't do this. You'll go to Chicago, and I'll go to Rhode Island, but it's just temporary!"

"Bradley," you pleaded, pulling away so he could see your face again.

"You don't trust me." He had really hoped he was never going to have to say those words to you. Not now.

But you shook your head right away and took his face in your hands. "That's not it, Bradley! I trust you. You've been the best boyfriend I've ever had. But you worked too hard for this, and you need to focus on flight training. Missing me and thinking about me isn't going to help you. This is your dream."

"Why can't I have two dreams?" he asked softly. Your eyes drifted closed, and he could see the tears leaking down your cheeks now. 

"I'm so proud of you. You're going to be amazing," you told him. 

"Please."

But you just kept shaking your head as you got to your feet and pulled on your shorts and shoes. 

Bradley was sitting on the edge of his bed, with his face in his hands. He only looked up when you said his name so softly, he thought he had imagined it. You had your phone in one hand and you were wearing his shirt, and he didn't think he would ever be the same again after this.

You bent down and brushed your lips softly against his. "I love you, Beer Boy."

And then you turned and ran your fingers along his door, glancing back at him one time before you left.

"Sugar."

--------------------

Bradley spent the next two weeks in a state of numbness. His fingers no longer seemed to be able to type out text messages to you; he had sent so many and received none in return. His voice didn't work right anymore, which was fine, because you weren't answering his calls either. You had most certainly blocked his number. 

He knew why you did it. He understood. He would never blame you for it. But that didn't mean that he had to agree with it. The only thing Bradley wanted at the moment was you, and he didn't think that feeling was going to change for a very long time.

When he was cleaning out his room for the last time, he stood in front of his bedroom door. You made him a better person. You made him work for what he wanted. You made him fall in love with you. 

But you wouldn't even let him tell you that. 

Bradley took a photo of his door, and promised himself he would use it as a reminder that he was different and better than he used to be. Then he uncapped the black marker in his hand. He slowly scribbled out your phone number and let himself feel everything. 

But he left the rest for the next guy to deal with. 

SUGAR

what's your number?

-------------------------

THE END.

Beer Boy and Sugar seem to have some unfinished business.... please stay tuned for Right Girl, Wrong Time!!!!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

[solarwonux]

Business Proposal || knj (8/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 7.0

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

A/n: I hope you enjoy, I will add all the extra links later. Please please please let me know your thoughts you have no idea how much it helps me. Enjoy!

Prev | next

m.list | series m.list | wattpad

10 years ago.

You have circled around Dionysus Lake at least three times, in a failed attempt to calm your nerves. In all honesty you aren’t sure why you’re so nervous, it was a simple tutoring session with your friend's brother. Yet, the hammering in your heart and the pressure around your neck was impossible to ignore.

You know this has nothing to do with you finding him attractive. You can find someone attractive but not be attracted to them. Hence Jungkook. You know it has nothing to do with the fact that his meeting place of choice was the one cafe that was slightly out of the budget you set aside for iced coffees on the weekday.

What you do know is that it has everything to do with the fact that this is something new. A little hiccup in your perfectly curated daily routine. From now on every Tuesday and Thursday you will be meeting up with Kim Namjoon at seven o’clock at Serendipity Cafe. Who by some miracle will hopefully have you understanding the PEMDAS rules that you’re hundred percent sure we’re taught wrong to you. No more will be your days in which you stay at HYBE U’s seven floor library, cranking down on research or polishing essays after math class. No more will be your days that you decide that maybe it was time for some me time, and enjoy a nice long relaxing bath with different bath salts, bath bombs, and candles in an attempt to relax your racing thoughts and aching muscles.

No, now you have to squeeze in a half an hour walk after your algebra class to give yourself a breather. So, you don’t have to face your friend's brother all frazzled and annoyed that you have successfully sat through a math class without understanding a thing. Really, your nerves are really due to the fact that you don’t want to seem incompetent; but is it your fault that you’ve had incompetent math teachers or lack of math teachers throughout your academic year? It’s not your fault they couldn’t explain complex terms in a simple form. Or that they took advantage of the system to get close to younger children. You were cheated out of a decent understanding of math because the academic system simply worked against you.

It’s a thought you have been turning over and over in your head since you woke up this morning. You’ve been trying out every other excuse in the book.

“I’m sorry they had us do flawed computer programs in middle school instead of actually teaching us something.”

“You see I couldn’t really do my math homework growing up because I had ballet class at four until eight.”

“I’m actually really smart I just don’t understand how the fuck I have to apply an exponent when there’s a parenthesis involved.”

All of these excuses were dumb. A mask for the actual truth. Math was uninteresting, impalpable. It stayed constant and lacked excitement because you couldn’t see the puzzles laid out before you. That, and sometimes you sneakily read a book in the back of the class or whispered about the next big boy band with your equally as boy crazed friends Shalimar and Ruth.

Still, after your third wrap around Dionysus lake, you’ve decided that if questioned you’d just come clean.

“I’m stupid and I absolutely have no idea why we have to have letters and numbers mingle with each other.”

Hopefully he'll appreciate your honesty and grow a soft spot for you. At least that’s what you hope for. And you keep hoping for as you steadily approach the large wooden doors of Serendipity. There’s still about ten minutes until seven, but you figured you’d get there a bit early to grab a good seat. One in a section that’s quiet but not too quiet because the last thing you want while you sip on your peppermint tea is to be consumed by your overwhelming thoughts while you wait for your tutor.

You approach the counter, gripping the leather strap of your purse, going over your order in case you stumble upon your words due to pressure.

“Welcome to Serendipity whe—oh hey you’re Kookie’s girl.” The man behind the counter says in awe. While you cringe at the fact that you’re being referred to as Jungkook’s girl. You remember the doe eyed man referring to the man now wearing a button down with what seems to be condoms printed all over it as Hobi. Though his nametag states that his name is Hoseok. You try not to dwell on it for too long because he’s looking at you curiously. Probably wondering why you haven’t greeted him back or placed your order.

You shake your head, circling your moon shaped bag back to the front of your body, attempting to hide your discomfort. “Oh, hi, um, Jungkook’s just a friend.” You swallow, while he smiles in acknowledgement.

“I see, things are complicated. I get that.” He brushes you off before turning to the iPad in front of him. Before you can counteract with a ‘no it’s actually very simple, we share classes and he’s unfortunately picked me to annoy.’ He speaks up and gets right to the point. “What can I get you cutie?” He finishes, looking at you through his bangs.

The heat in your body erupts. No guy has ever been this forward with you but you’re positive this is just part of his customer service training. If he ever had one. Either way he’s talking you up and making you feel seen, which you assume is a specialty of his and probably why the cafe is crowded with many young adults.

With a grin you say. “Just a hot mint chocolate latte.” You nod in assurance before opening up your purse and taking out your wallet. When you fish your card out and go to swipe it across the reader a hand stops you. Startled, you look up to find Hobi or Hoseok smiling wide at you.

“No need, it’s already paid for.” He takes his hand away and gives you a white buzzer instead.

You furrow your brows in confusion. How has your drink already been paid for when you’ve just entered? You aren’t complaining, you did just save some money, but that small amount of happiness doesn’t mean that you aren’t confused.

The cashier seems to read your confusion and he chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Namjoon paid for you earlier when he ordered his drink.”

“What?” You glance down at your phone to see the time. Did you get it wrong? The two of you agreed on seven, and you even confirmed it this morning through a quick text just to be sure. So, why does the analog clock on your phone read 6:55, and Namjoon has possibly already been waiting for you.

You curse under your breath and quickly put your wallet in your purse before turning around to look at the almost empty cafe. There’s only a couple of people occupying the circular tables. All of them fully immersed in their books or laptop screens. Namjoon is nowhere in sight. You look back at Hoseok—you’ve decided to refer to him as such since it’s what’s on his nametag—and he laughs at your confusion.

He lifts up a finger signaling up, “he’s on the second floor, got here about an hour ago.”

His statement doesn’t do anything but worsen the panic already coursing through your veins. Maybe you did misinterpret the time, still it wouldn’t make sense because wouldn’t he have texted you by now asking where you were?

“Um thank you…”

“Call me Hobi.” He waves a hand in front of your face. “Any friend or special friend of the boys gets the privilege to call me Hobi. Plus Hoseok—” He points to his nametag with a boney finger. “Sounds too serious.” He shrugs.

You nod your head. “Thank you Hobi.” You rush out the acknowledgement and turn around and speed walk to the industrial style spiral staircase.

It’s a dizzying journey up, but once you make it to the final step you spot the man that has your nerves at an all time high. He’s sitting in the far corner next to a floor to ceiling window. His back is hunched as he types away on his laptop. Today he’s ditched the beanie and you can see his dark brown hair. A few strands of his bangs sneak their way behind the thick rims of his black glasses. He’s wearing a simple gray long sleeve, with black sweatpants. He looks relaxed, the opposite of what you’re feeling because the thing you hate most in the world is keeping people waiting.

With quick steps you approach the table, halting when you get to the front of a chair. “I’m sorry, I thought we agreed on seven.” You rush out instead of a proper greeting. In a quick motion he lifts his head and takes off the earbuds inside his ears, and you feel like more of an idiot than before because of course he would be wearing noise canceling earbuds.

“Hey, you’re here. Did you order something? I told Hobi that I would just pay for what you wanted.” He grins and stands up, extending his hand for you in a handshake.

You put your hand in his and feel a shiver run down your spine when his cold one meets your clammy one. “Am I late?” You tilt your head to the side.

Namjoon shakes his head, and lets go of your hand before sitting down again. “No, you’re right on time. I just got here a bit early to get a head start on an essay due by the end of the week.” He reassures you, and finally you can let out the breath you had been holding in.

You feel calmer now. Relieved. You set down your stuff on an empty chair and take the seat directly in front of him. You place your white buzzer in front of you, tracing the circular ridges. Now, that you’re not in such a panicked state you can finally show your gratitude to his selfless actions. “Thank you for the drink, you didn’t have to pay for it.”

The busy man smiles and waves his hand in front of his face to brush you off. “It’s no big deal, Hobi gives me discounts anyway.”

“So, I’ve heard.” You whisper recalling the first night you met him a week ago. Since then, Jungkook snuck his brother’s phone number to you the next day at the library. He didn’t say anything, he just passed by you with a green drink from the only smoothie place on campus and a sticky note saying:

Text Namjoon, he’s forgetful. -JK

It took the whole day to muster up the courage but finally you sent a simple text regarding your name and the fact that his younger brother had been the one to sneak you his number. In case, he assumed you had gone through multiple deep dives on the internet to retrieve it. Thankfully, Namjoon didn’t question it and just replied with a simple greeting. Then the two of you got into a brief conversation that lasted about two days because you’re also forgetful and forgot to reply to his messages. Basically coordinating a plan further than the one you had discussed the first time you met.

It was strictly business. Yet, a part of you felt a little happy that you were meeting and talking to somebody new.

Just as you’re about to take out your small notebook and pen from your purse your buzzer comes to life, filling the spaces of silence in the air surrounding the two of you. Namjoon’s eyes tear away from his computer screen, and you’re about to stand up when he beats you to it. He quickly grabs a hold of the noisy device saying, “Don’t worry I got it,” and he disappears down the stairs.

You’re now sitting by yourself, wallowing in your over consuming thoughts. Most of them involve the story Jungkook told you about his very eventful weekend while the two of you were walking to your math lecture earlier today. Truly, it was so odd knowing that he had run into Taehyung at a club in the rich part of town. The two of them stayed together the entire night and even brought home two girls to Taehyung’s apartment. Thankfully, he didn’t share further than that, but he did share that he was in love. In which you rolled your eyes so hard it gave you vertigo.

In the few months that you have known the man. He has claimed that he has been in love with every single girl he’s slept with. Which surprisingly, given his flirty nature was not a lot. What was surprising to you was Taehyung being at the club. It’s not out of character for him, but Saturday nights were always spent at Jimin’s one bedroom apartment catching up on life, and binge watching One Piece. When his text message came through on Saturday evening saying that he wasn’t feeling very well and skipping out. You couldn’t help but feel a little sad because you hadn’t seen him in a while.

Taehyung was always out and about, chasing every new adventure he could grasp. He called it inspiration for his art, but you always knew there was another underlying reason. One he never cared to explain because in all honesty it only made sense to him. He was a tough book to get through. Sometimes it keeps you questioning why you even have a soft spot for it. Though, you suppose it is the backstory the two of you share. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit hurt knowing he had chosen to not ditch you but Jimin as well.

The night wasn’t a bust and you managed to finally make a significant breakthrough on the anime. Twenty episodes in one night was something that needed to be awarded. It did feel a bit awkward when it was just the two of you. It was as if there was an invisible ceiling slowly crushing you, because on Saturday for the first time ever the two of you found yourself stuck. Nothing to talk about. No updates on life, only the sound of the anime doing its best to fill the void of Taehyung not being there that the both of you unspokenly felt.

It made you question a lot of things. Like was it maybe time to finally part ways? A chilling thought that sent shivers down your spine and one you pushed so far into the back of your head. One you really don’t want to think about now, especially when you’re about to succumb yourself to a full extra hour of torture. Otherwise known as: College Algebra.

“Hobi says that if you take a picture of his latte art to tag him if you post it.” Namjoon voices, placing a small tray in front of your open notebook. A white mug with a beautiful Jack O'Lantern drawn in white foam decorates the top of your warm decaffeinated latte. It’s impressive, surely puts all those swans and hearts to shame.

“He’s a big fan of Halloween, and he always says that fall time means it's Halloween everyday.” Namjoon finishes with a chuckle, as he takes the seat in front of you again.

You laugh a little, fishing out your phone from the pocket of your jean jacket. “I can get behind that.” You say as you click on the camera app and snap a couple of pictures.

Unbeknownst to you, Namjoon is watching as you rearrange the contents on the table. To get the right aesthetic for your perfect picture. He can’t lie, it's a little endearing, seeing somebody so excited over latte art he has grown accustomed to seeing. It’s something he will definitely spill onto Hoseok before he leaves. His friend was crazy talented in many areas and he hates that instead of sharing all his passions out with the world. He’s stuck running Serendipity because his grandfather wanted the neighborhood's hub to stay in the Jung family. When he should be out in the world sharing his clothing designs with anyone who’s willing to listen.

Namjoon’s thoughts are interrupted by your extended hand, holding out your phone for him. “What’s his instagram?” You grin, and his eyes make their way to the small phone screen. A beautifully taken picture, showing off the spooky pumpkin with a caption reading,

Halloween should be all year round @--

Namjoon lets out an ‘ah’ before taking your phone and quickly typing out his friend's handle. He reads the caption again, double checking to see if he made any mistakes, Halloween should be all year round @uramyhope.

He nods in approval and hands you back your phone. Deep down he feels a surge of something foreign. He can’t necessarily put his finger on it but regarding Hoseok’s statement when he first met you last week, when he asked both his brother and him for your number. He feels a little strange, knowing that he’s basically given the two of you a way to start communicating outside of him and Jungkook. Knowing the aspiring designer, he won’t miss a beat, and that makes him feel a bit odd.

He shrugs it off though, pushes away the churning in his stomach, concluding that it was because he chose to consume caffeine so late in the evening. He looks back at his computer screen, while you type away on your phone. He continues to ignore it, saves the document on his computer two times before closing the lid. He pushes it aside, and clears his throat, catching your attention.

Quickly you lock your phone and stuff it into the pocket of your jacket. You look over at Namjoon, his hands clasped in front of him and a scowl prominent on his face. It resembled the same one he transformed into the first night you met him. When he coldly stated he was done with blind dating thanks to his mother and step brother. Though, this time it does feel less intense, probably due to the fact that he knows you’re just here to be his tutee and not his future wife.

Still, it lets you know that time was ticking and it was finally time to get down to business.

“How have you gone on this long without understanding the basic principles of algebra?”

Namjoon is serious. He means business and you’re about to pull out the hair from your scalp.

“Maybe because I never had a permanent math teacher, they’d all leave in the middle of the year.” You pout, crossing your arms in front of you and slumping down in your seat.

He lets out a sigh before sliding your notebook to his side of the table. The metal spiral scratching against the wooden surface, letting out an unpleasant noise making you cringe.

“That’s a good excuse.” He says, grabbing his red pen and making all sorts of marks along the paper. You don’t need to know what steps you got wrong while solving the math problem. You know exactly where you went wrong. It was the second you signed up for the class even if you didn’t have much of a choice.

You groan, throwing your head back. “It’s not an excuse. My eighth grade teacher left in the middle of the year because she got pregnant, my ninth grade teacher unfortunately was diagnosed with cancer. Then my tenth grade teacher was accused of being a pedophile so he was fired an—“

“Okay,” Namjoon cuts you off, setting down his pen on top of your notebook. “I understand, your school was just shitty at keeping teachers around.” He grins, placing the notebook in front of you again. “But did you ever do your math homework?” He tilts his head to the side in curiosity.

Unfortunately you’ve been caught. “No,” you whisper, dragging your fingernail down the spiral.

The sound he lets out tells you enough. He’s proven his point with the sarcastic hum that escapes his mouth. “In my defense I had dance practice everyday after school from two to four and the ballet from five to eight.” You add but it does little to prove your innocence. Instead, it makes you look guiltier or maybe not you but your parents because who would choose an extracurricular activity over academics. Especially when they knew their daughter was absolute shit at math. They did try though, but even the math tutor they hired back in high school could not get through to you.

“I see,” he puts a pensive hand on his chin leaning back. The look he gives you makes you feel small. You can’t tell if he’s judging your upbringing or the you now who can’t seem to understand the simple PEMDAS rules.

“Your problem isn’t even that bad. It’s easy to fix. You know what each operation does. You just get confused with the order along the way.” He leans forward, picking up the pen and pointing to the problem you just finished doing. “You know to do parenthesis first, but then you forget that parenthesis don’t really go away. That’s your first mistake.”

It’s like a lightbulb has suddenly flicked on inside your head as you watch him solve the problem while thoroughly explaining each step. Writing out every single step even if it was unnecessary, but it helps.

“So the answer should be seventeen and not twenty-two.” He finishes, and the puzzle slowly starts to connect itself before your eyes. The steps are laid out perfectly and neatly. The parenthesis stay until the equation is factored to the lowest it can go. And you’re about to jump across the table to give the man before you the biggest hug. He’s the only one who's been able to point out what you’ve done wrong your whole life and then explain it easily.

You lift your head up, wide eyed and say “oh, that makes sense.”

Namjoon laughs, almost as if he’s relieved but also disbelieved. You start to feel bad because for the past hour he’s been trying to explain to you the basic principles in every way possible. And it was only until he explained it to you in baby terms that you finally understood. You’re about to apologize, but instead you’re left stunned by his next words.

“I’m giving you homework for the next time we see each other on Thursday.” He hums, flipping to the next page. Your eye twitches a little at the thought of math homework. If you never did it while you were in school and getting graded for it, why would you do it now?

“Homework?”

He hums, and begins to write down a bunch of different math problems. He can sense that you’re about to fill him with different complaints, so he speaks up. “Do you want to pass math class?

“Yes, but do you really need to give me homework?”

“How many hours were you in dance class growing up?”

“I don’t remember like five hours, but what does that have to do with you giving me math homework.”

“What were you doing for five hours?” He lifts his head, handing you your notebook. You take it looking down at the ten perfectly curated algebra problems.

You want to throw up.

“Practicing.”

“Exactly, and how are you going to pass math?”

You huff, seeing exactly where his question was heading. Proving a point or whatever. Jungkook did mention his brother was a bit of a smart ass. Now you’re unfortunate enough to be at the receiving end.

With a grunt you close your notebook. “Fine, I'll do the homework.”

Namjoon smirks, tapping his ear, leaning in further into the table. “No, I want to hear you say it please.”

You stuff your small spiral notebook into your purse, snatching your special pink mechanical pencil from his side of the table. You spent too much money on it to let—your stupid math tutor who is now giving you homework to make you suffer—steal it.

“I need to practice math.” You mumble, zipping up your bag, and putting it over your shoulder.

Namjoon laughs, letting his red pen fall against the wooden table with a clank. You roll your eyes before standing up. At least your suffering was amusing to someone.

You cross your arms in front you waiting for his laughter to die down. When it does he looks at you, watery eyes from joy and you feel a slight tug in the inside of your chest. You push it to the side, convince yourself that it’s just the irritation bubbling up inside of you.

“Are you done?”

He nods, shuffles around the table to put his stuff away. “How are you getting home?” He questions, standing up and hoisting his vintage messenger bag over his shoulder.

You shrug, “the bus.” You state, pulling up your phone to check the bus schedule. If you can catch the next bus that comes in ten minutes then you’ll still be able to get home with a couple of seconds left of daylight.

“I’ll go with you then.” He states firmly, standing up abruptly and walking past you. It leaves you no room to argue against him.

You’re quickly starting to realize that once he says something firmly enough to be believed as the truth. There is absolutely no room left for a final say.

And they call you stubborn…as if.

The bus arrived a minute late. A minute that felt longer than what it should’ve felt. The two of you were the only ones standing side by side under the dim light of the bus stop.

It’s one thing to be in the same room as your tutor while the only thing the two of you talk about is math. It’s another thing to have him offer to walk you home. There’s no conversation. There’s no way to start a conversation. The only thing you really know about him is that he’s still studying, he is Jungkook’s step brother and he’s a philosophy major. The only philosophers you knew off were the ones from Ancient Greece. All the readings for your Introduction to Modern Rhetorics course that you were assigned to do were somewhere buried in the back of your mind.

You don’t want to start up a conversation in which you know you won’t be able to keep up. You remember very little about the readings and somehow the things you do remember blend into one another. So you can’t differentiate between what one philosopher said and what the other said.

Instead, Namjoon and you walk in silence. At a safe distance but close enough to still feel the presence of the other. Then you stand in the bus stop. Neither of you sit on the cold metal bench because it’s still not cold enough for them to turn on the bench warmers. And when you see that the bus is a minute late, you start to feel the slightly awkward air around the two of you get thicker.

You’re about to bite the bullet, take the embarrassing moment for some sort of small talk when the bright blue bus turns the corner. You watch it approach the stop fast. At least that’s what it feels like and soon enough the driver opens the double doors to welcome the two of you.

Surprisingly it’s not full. There are a few people occupying the seats, but there’s enough room to not feel like you’re being squished upon one another. Namjoon lets you enter first. Once you click your transit card against the reader you scan the rows for an empty seat. And of course, there’s two left in the far back. You walk to it quickly. Pass the exhausted bystanders and take the seat against the window.

After all, you will be here for the next twenty five minutes. Though, it’s not only occurred to you that you don’t know where Namjoon lives, until he takes up the seat next to yours. You want to ask if he’s going out of his way or if his place is along this route. But you don’t want to pry too much. You’ve only just met him officially. You also don’t know what you would do with yourself if it does turn out that his place is out of the way. Probably, apologize profusely for being such an inconvenience.

To save yourself from the discomfort you sights upon the buildings outside the window. Your daydreaming only lasts a few seconds when you feel a light tap against your shoulder. In a quick motion you turn your head to face the man sitting next to you. You tilt your head in question and he opens his mouth to speak.

“What’s the deal with you and Jungkook?”

The question feels like you’ve been hit by whiplash. It’s not the first time you get asked about it. Your longtime friend Jina has brought it up a few times, but you always reply with the same exact answer. “I guess we’re friends.” You shrug.

Namjoon hums in acknowledgment, nodding his head. He looks ahead for a few minutes before looking back at you. “Are you sure?”

Now, this question takes you aback. Nobody’s ever questioned your honesty. At least until now.

You quirk a brow and nod. “Yes, we share a few classes and sometimes we study together. But it always feels like I’m there to study and he’s just there to talk because he never shuts up.” You rant.

“Ah,” he chuckles, moving his head in confirmation. “That sounds like him, when he was younger he never talked, but then he turned fifteen got a little confident because he found out a few people found him cute and he just never stopped talking then.” Namjoon reveals, making you smile. “He also talks in his sleep.” He adds, smiling when he hears you let out a giggle.

Suddenly, it doesn’t feel as awkward as before. It feels a bit simpler. And you find yourself leaning into his aura a little more.

“I think he likes you though.” He adds, making your eyes grow wide in surprise. Maybe you’re dumb or you just don’t understand flirting thanks to the two very unserious relationships you had between the transition of high school and college. But from what you do know is that Jungkook holds no romantic feelings or a liking towards you. That’s something you’re very confident in.

“I don’t think so.” You scoff. “He would be stupid if he did.” You wave him off, and look out the window. You catch his reflection in the glass. He’s looking down at you, smiling in amusement. It somehow makes your cheeks get a bit hot and you divert your gaze down to the metal border of the window.

“He sat me down on our couch last night and laid down some ground rules.” He speaks up, looking ahead again. He lifts his hand and starts, “I’m not allowed to let you out of my sight, I have to be nice to you, and Hobi is not allowed under any circumstances get your number, which somehow I failed at doing.” He shrugs and counts with his fingers as if that proves his statement.

You stare at his hand before looking up at him again, you’re at a loss for words. Your thoughts are all jumbled up. Somehow you know tonight you won’t be able to sleep. You will now be questioning every single interaction you’ve had with Jungkook in the past few months.

Clearing your throat you say, “that doesn’t mean he like…has feelings for me.”

He lifts his hands up in defense. Your tone is harsh and he finds it amusing. He continues, “don’t shoot the messenger, I’m just relaying information on something I’ve observed.”

You finally turn to look at him. Your eyebrows are drawn together in a scowl. “No offense but your observation is stupid.” You cross your arms in a huff, pouting like a child. It makes Namjoon laugh loud enough to turn heads, causing you to look at him alarmed. It only makes him laugh harder and when you’re about to reprimand him, the automatic voice sounds in the speakers of the bus. It announces your stop and you scramble quickly to press the bright red button to stop the bus.

This shuts Namjoon up, he looks around, biting the inside of his cheek before nodding his head in confirmation. “This is your stop,” he voices just as the bus comes to a halt.

You nod, taking out your bus card from your purse and standing up. He copies your movements, makes his way to the card scanner and places his card against it. He doesn’t wait for you to exit he simply does and stands outside on the sidewalk, hands in his pocket. You scan your card and take the leap of faith from the bus stairs to the sidewalk. You land next to him, thanking your lucky stars for catching you and finally you voice out the question that’s been dying in the back of your throat.

“This is not your stop is it?”

“It’s not but, I promised Jungkook you would get home safely.” With that he turns on his heels and escapes the light of the stop, appearing again a few feet ahead underneath the street light. “Are you coming?”

“Do you do everything Jungkook says?” You grumble. The argument in which you state that you’re a big girl who is more than capable of walking home by herself escapes you. Only because when you’re finally standing in front of him. His head towering just a few inches above yours, it finally hits you. The jolt that springs in the pit of your stomach. The tug inside your heart that will have you up all night because it feels like a terrible case of heartburn. And the seed, his soft gaze plants inside of your mind.

It’s a mistake, a big one and you’re now regretting taking up Jungkook’s offer to have his brother tutor you. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen at all. The slow cascade down the wall you’ve built surrounding your emotions. You can feel it crumble already, ready to run down a dead end street, because that’s what it feels like. Whatever you’re feeling inside.

“I don’t.” The soft timbre of his voice brings out, you’re thankful it helps you find your way back down to the ground, but you’re not a fan of the way it paints goosebumps across your arms.

He continues, “I don’t want him to lecture me for not looking out after his friend.” He emphasizes the last part, combining it with a wink. You know what he is implying and you can’t help but feel a bit of the drink you had an hour ago threatening to make its way up your throat.

“You’re not going to give up are you?” You walk past him. It’s best to have him a few feet behind than right next to you. The space gives you time to regain yourself, yet it doesn’t last because in seconds he’s right next to you. His arm is so close. It almost brushes against yours. Thankfully it doesn’t but you can smell his cologne. It’s soft, and warm. Like fresh laundry on a sunday morning. It makes your insides burn and you know that from now on you will be looking for that scent everywhere so you can call it yours.

Namjoon shakes his head. “I’ve never seen him this protective over someone apart from his mom.” He whispers now, and the lower his voice gets the lower it sinks inside of you. “You must be special to him.” He concludes.

“I think I’m just the first girl who's never kissed his toes and finds him annoying.” You halt in front of a street light, and he stops with you. The little man signals red—do not go. You turn your head from side to side questioning your safety. If you run now, you will likely still be alive but most importantly away from the man next to you. Honestly, you’re a bit confused. When he was talking about algebra the only thing you could focus on was how to get from point a to point b while solving the problem.

Now that the moon is dim and the streets are emptying out. The only thing you can think about is how soft and ethereal he looks. Nothing like how when you first met him, but something straight out of a modernized fairy tale. It’s hitting you unexpectedly and you begin to wonder if it’s because your exhaustion is finally settling in, making you delusional.

“That could be true, but I think that you’re here to stay for a long time.” He chuckles. The little man switches to green and he takes the step.

“Why do you say that?” You walk fast to catch up to him. You realize that he is blindly following you and you to him. Sure, you’re almost home, but he’s leading the way as if he knows where he’s going. As if he’s done this before with you and has been doing this with you his entire life. It doesn’t do anything to calm your beating heart.

He stays quiet. He keeps on walking, stealing secret glances your way to see if he’s still at the same pace as you. It stays this way until you stop in front of a cute town house. The door is decorated with an autumn reef. The worlds ‘welcome fall,’ take up the entire circumference. There’s a red bell on the handle, to signal when someone is home since the doorbell has been broken ever since you could remember.

You’re home. But for some reason it had already felt like you were home.

“If it’s not Kook then it’s Hobi. Plus I need to make sure you pass math.” He voices.

You look at him, tilting your head in confusion. Until your mouth widens in a silent ‘oh’ recalling the question he had failed to answer a minute ago.

“I think your brain has been corrupted by reading into things while you do your research.”

He chuckles, “again don’t shoot the messenger, it’s not surprising though.” He shrugs, “My brother never shuts up about you, and Hobi hasn’t stopped asking for your contact information since you first walked into Serendipity a week ago.”

You roll your eyes, turning away from him and pressing your palm against the keypad of your house. It lights up, showing numbers and you quickly enter the code, wait for the little lock to signal it has been unlocked and you turn the knob.

Before you walk in you turn to face him again. “I won’t argue with you against the whole Hobi thing. But I know Jungkook doesn’t have feelings for me. If he did he wouldn’t tell me about all the dates he’s gone on and ask for advice whenever he has relationship or situationship problems. Plus he says he’s in love with someone he met this weekend.” You reason.

Namjoon takes his hands out of his pockets, raising his hands in defeat again. “Fine I’ll drop it, but I do think he finds you special. That’s all.” He states firmly and once again you’re reminded of that tone. He’s gotten the last word and you won’t bring up another one because if not then you’d be walking a tight circle around each other.

“Agree to disagree.” You smile, taking one step inside your house. “I’ll take your word for now. Thank you for walking me home. You didn’t have to even if Jungkook asked you to.”

He buries his hands into his pockets and grins. “I also wanted to.” He takes one step back. “Good night, I’ll see you on Thursday.” And with that he turns around, starts his way down the same path that led the two of you here.

Home.

You’re left astounded. In a rush to feel comfort once again, you hurry through the door, slamming it behind you, pressing your back against it. For a moment you’re scared your parents might find you in this state, wallowing in feelings you can’t begin to understand. Then you remember that they were at dinner with their friends, and you’re thankful that you still have some time to regain yourself.

Namjoon’s words cut deep. Not what he said about Jungkook. You know as well as you know your name that romantic feelings between the two of you are nonexistent. But you also know that he said he wanted to walk you home.

Chivalry might not be dead but the bar is low, because he wanted…he wanted…he wanted to wa—

Beep.

Your phone goes off signaling a message. With all the ditzyness a girl with a school girl crush can have. You fish out your phone with a haste, what if it’s him.

Though, that thought dies as quickly as it was conjured. It’s not him, but it’s a notification that in the same right births a little flame inside of you. Maybe not as bright as the one Namjoon left behind, but it has the potential to grow into something more.

uarmyhope wants to send you a message.

Your smile gets wide when you swipe across the notification. It opens up to your Instagram and it quickly directs you to your DMS.

You open it, and you feel a spark when you read the few choice words that were chosen. They’re simple but they’re enough. And they’re the start of a long night of getting to know someone else.

Your next latte is on me cutie.xx

[gassyandnasty]

The Jock Formula - 1.2

FLASHBACK

Andrew had complicated days before. Wedgies, wet willies and swirlies were the tip of the iceberg of all the torture he had to endure, he thought after school things would get better, but studying on the same campus with the most gross frat ever was a challenge, and being an easy target was even worse, nor his flail arms or his whimp friends could help him out.

That's why George came up with the 'jock formula', there was no escape. But his research led to peculiar ingredients, some were easy to find, but others…

George had the brilliant idea to sneak in the locker room and collect some of their sweat, but they were having a match, so all of the gear was being used, and the sweat was being produced.

"I have been observing them for a while now, nobody uses this and that locker, let's stay in there and wait for them to come back. They always forget dirty socks and… underwear, but those have enough material to the formula… at least I believe" George planned.

"What if they discover us?" asked Andrew.

"They won't. A football team is loud enough, nobody will hear anything, and… they are so dumb." Underestimated George.

"I know… It's just… if they spot us, we are screwed."

"Everything will come to plan… now shush, because the match is almost finished, soon they will come."

And with a loud bang, all the football team came loud and obnoxious into the locker room. Soon a strong smell invaded their space, too much sweat and testosterone in the air. Andrew observed them through the cracks of the door, all stood proud, bulging muscles everywhere, true alphas... but one contrasted out of the bunch: Josh.

Josh was a true UNIT of a man. Dark hair covered his face and many parts of his body, that looked like it was sculpted by a god: defined biceps, back and abs, his pecs appeared to be made of stone, bulging out of every shirt he put on, while his legs could sustain an empire, huge thighs and two mounds of the plumpest ass Andrew has ever seen. On top of that, he got an intimidating and charming look at the same time, where he passed, you could hear people swoon over him. If the "jock formula" worked, he would be happy to be even a third of all this.

"Alright guys, let's pack it up" Josh's voice boomed through all the room. "Got so much gear that I need another locker."

Andrew spine freezed, what if he picked his? There was no way to run, and being locked with a bunch of stinky jocks was proving to be lethal. While he gazed through the cracks, he spoted George trying to collect some drops of sweat on the floor while they weren't looking. He sneaked a syringe by the cracks of his locker while Josh was looking for a place to put the rest of his gear.

The scene was terrifying. The overpowering lights reflected on the white tiles and camouflaged the transparent syringe, but what George couldn't see is that Josh was approaching, and when he least expected, the syringe was crushed by Josh's heavy feet.

"Yo! what is this?" Josh questioned as he stepped on something. He noticed that the syringe found it's way back to the locker and asked: "Hey! Who's in there?" he complemented with a powerful kick in the door, making everyone pay attention to what was happening.

All of the boys turned their eyes to the locker George was in, and he was in MAD trouble now.

"What is that, dude? Chill" Sal said. Andrew knew this voice too well. Sal was a very famous playboy, he got all the chicks with his 'latin spice', as his tanned skin and eternal smirk were fine additions to his perfect body. One of Andrew's nerdy friends said that his gas was fiery, and burned his eyebrows once.

"Maybe it's just another of the rival team's prank" added Jongho, the new exchange school guy. He came from Korea and quickly got along with them cause he is so good at everything: best grades, top athlete and a very toned body. This time Andrew seen himself, as he tried to share some thoughts on math class, and was greeted with the longest belch he ever heard of.

But his thoughts were interrupted when Josh's threatened the locker again. "Reveal yourself or I'll rip the door out!"

Slowly, George surrended and opened the door. He was even wearing a lab coat, accessorized by his big glasses and slicked back hair. He was truly ridiculous. He was greeted with a choir of laughs by all the sides of the room, George was almost pissing himself.

Andrew thanked God it wasn't him in that place, but George pretty much asked for it. He could have waited till they left the room, and now...

"Oh, look what we have here!" Josh teased, ensuring more laugh by the other boys. "Taking notes, loser?"

"Ugh...I was... hiding from P.E...erm..." George didn't know what to say. He couldn't give away about the formula, but the broken pieces of the syringe on the floor pointed out that he was doing more than hide.

"Huh, I see..." Josh inspects, and spots the puddle of sweat that George was trying to collect from. He connects the dots, syringe, lab coats, samples... He didn't get to any conclusion cause he is too dumb for that, but it was sufficient to pick on the nerd for anything he was doing.

"Were you trying to do experiments with us? Where are those samples going, huh?" Josh intimidates, through the gap of the door, the Andrew could only see his toned legs towering over George.

"No, no, those were my homework... It got nothing to do with-" George was trying to explain himself as he was cut of by the alpha jock:

"Nothing on that bullshit, nerd." Josh said as he turned around. Now he was facing Andrew, the tiny locker that George was hidden was on the bottom line, so Josh started to bend over.

"Why don't you collect this sample?" Josh teased as he put his ass inside the locker George was. Andrew saw him scrunching up his face and clench his fist, with a loud grunt, Josh released hell on George's face.

"HNNGG... PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT"

That has got to be the most powerful fart Andrew ever witnessed. Even if it was inside the locker, was loud and clear, so deep that even vibrated the locker walls. It simply exploded for so long that Josh's veins were bulging out for forcing it, and on a final wet note, his ultimate demonstration of power ended.

"Aaaaaah, god DAMN! That was a monster! Don't you think, nerd-" Josh sighed in relief after almost exploding the room, and is surprised by the sight of George completely passed out.

"Haha, couldn't even that take, loser?" Josh worked up a huge wad of spit and fired on George's uncouscious face, making all of the jocks laugh and high five him.

"King! King! King! King! King" his friends chanted, while they got out of there. One day, Andrew wanted to be 'King' too.

And boy, it STANK. The pungent smell invaded Andrew's nostrils like no other, and he carefully got out of his locker to help his friend. He came next to him and his situation was miserable. But out of all that humiliation, Andrew collected the spit that was covering all of Josh's face so they could proceed with the formula.

When Andrew tried to get his friend out of the locker, he noticed that George indeed pissed himself.

[atarathegreat]

The Student Worker. Baji Keisuke

Baji, having not the best history with school and all things intelligence related, was having the worst time going through college. Of course, it was his ultimate goal to become a vet, but right now he just wanted to survive his classes with good grades and a high GPA.

"What books did you need?" And yet he still wished he hadn't brought Chifuyu along for book hunting. "Your papers should have the ISBN, right? Let me see."

Once again Chifuyu was acting like a father taking his kids to buy binders for classes, annoying Baji to his wits end. The wrinkled paper made a racket in the quiet bookshop as he pulled them from his pocket and passed them to Chifuyu. Every year he had the same problem with the books and finding what he needed for each of his classes.

Chifuyu rattled off the numbers to himself, searching the shelf in front of him as he cross referenced the numbers. His whispering blended in with the soft atmosphere of the bookshop, the other people who were also whispering and double checking numbers to be sure they had the right books. Writing, math, even chemistry books were being grabbed left and right by other young adults and even some seniors who grinned to themselves over the victory of finding what they were looking for. Baji hated them, nothing personal on his behalf, he just wished it was so easy for him to buy his materials without needing Chifuyu to hold his hand.

"Hello! Is there anything I can help you find?" The student worker appeared next to them. Stupid, Baji already knew he was stupid, but he'd have to be absolutely braindead not to realize how captivating the girl was. Beautiful hair and bright eyes as she flashed her sunshine and rainbows smile. Her kindness was part of the job, that much Baji was smart about.

"Actually-" "No! No, thank you!" Baji rushed, taking has papers back from Chifuyu, "He doesn't even go here, he's just helping me look for the books, but we've got it, thanks though."

Her laugh was sweet and thick, like Baji's favorite honey brand, "Alright, well, find me if you change your mind."

That wouldn't be happening, but the guys nodded and Baji felt like he could breathe again as she left. For him to be so flustered was strange for Chifuyu to see, especially around a girl. His friend had always been cool, suave even, though he was sure that Baji lacked the ability to make a girl fall for him.

"She's out of your league."

"I know."

"You're blushing."

"I know."

Baji went back to searching for the books listed on his paper, successfully finding three of them before giving up and dragging Chifuyu from the building so he couldn't ask the cute girl for help. It was more than obvious that the girl would know where the books were that Baji needed, but he couldn't take even the idea that she would think he was dumb. Or maybe she would find his idiocy endearing?

Unlikely.

The atmosphere of his home was much different from the campus bookstore. Lighter in the sense that he knew he didn't have to be quiet, and it didn't smell of paper and wooden book shelves. But he preferred the smell of books over the booze that currently tainted the air from his late night celebration of getting through another semester. Hey, he was allowed to be proud of himself for making it through more time in school, so what if he had a few drinks...alone...watching tv. Okay, so he wasn't celebrating and he was just day drinking. Baji felt better saying that he was ringing in the new semester than admitting to himself that he drank a twelve pack by himself. And ate two bags of family sized trail mix. And drank a whole gallon of coffee, or what felt like a gallon. Baji Keisuke was more than aware of his pathetic nature. Drinking alone, eating half his weight in the food in his kitchen, chugging coffee to stay awake, and all because his friends had moved on and had their own lives and families. Yet there he was, living alone and being in college while working part time with Chifuyu and Kazutora, all while needing help with something as simple as finding textbooks.

A light pinging caught Baji's attention, an email popping up on his phone screen from his advisor.

1444badvised@college.edu: Hello, Baji! Just checking in to make sure you have all the deadlines still, and making sure the hunt for next semesters materials is being fruitful! Don't hesitate to use the many resources around the campus and even off campus!

The advisors cheerful nature only added to his annoyance. First, he rambled and made a fool of himself in front of the girl that he thought was insanely cute, and now he was faced with two links of deadlines that were coming up quick. He'd probably have to suck it up and risk having books late so he could order them online. And he would've risked it if one of his deadlines wasn't in a week.

So Baji sucked it up and took the long drive back to the campus. It was beyond embarrassing for him to walk back into the bookstore, even with his hood up so no one could see his face.

There she was again, her light pink painted lips pouting over her hand as she rested against the welcome desk, ocean eyes calmed from her boredom as she seemingly waited for anything to happen. Here Baji was to be that anything.

"Hey..." Baji slid the paper towards her, a little taken back by how swiftly she grabbed it and looked at his chicken scratch handwriting and scribbles, "I, uhm, need help finding the ones that aren't marked off..."

When she perked up, Baji couldn't help but think she looked like one of the birds at the pet shop. The ones that talk nicely when customers came by, saying, "pretty hair, pretty hair," or "wanna hug?" She was the prettiest damn bird he'd ever laid eyes on. "A couple of these are in our animal sciences, but they aren't on the shelf. I can contact our other campuses and have them here in a couple days if that is fine?" Her tilted head reminded him of the dogs, how they'd beg for people to pick them up and pet and love on them.

"S'fine, thanks." He mumbled with a slight nod. At least he would be getting them before his deadline.

Painted fingernails tapped the paper, "I can get you this one, though. Follow me."

He took the chance to notice her height. She wore flats, which for Baji meant she was practically barefoot, and couldn't hide how tall she was. Her pants were a little tight, accentuating her assets in a way he would only describe as alluring. What? He thought she was deserving of respect and he refused to think wow, nice ass.

Her fingers looked nice as she grabbed the spine of a book, leaning it out before grabbing it and looking in the cover at the numbers printed inside. "So, what are you in classes for?" The softness of her voice startled him a little, "All these animal science, anatomy and surgical books make me think vet, but maybe it's something more specific?"

Fuck, she was observant. "Vet, yeah." Baji grinned a little, his canines flashing at the worker, "Third year."

Chiming bells. That's what her laughter sounded like, "I admire the dedication. I'm going to classes for business."

"Business? Typa business?" Shit! He couldn't even speak properly?! "Business management." She passed the book to his hands, "I'm hoping to run my own shop one day!"

Baji was more focused on making his tongue from the words this time around, "What type of shop, if I can ask?"

"Arts and crafts type of things." And he never would've imagined that red looked so good on her cheeks, "I doodle and make things in my free time, so I figured I might as well make it profitable."

"That's real smart." Baji followed her back to the counter, reading her 'School Life!' T-shirt as she scanned the book.

"Why'd you choose veterinary?" She set the book close to his hand, her eyes trained on where the little receipt would be printed. Baji would have to sign a copy and she'd file it and then he'd get his copy. "I love animals." Was his simple answer that he wished was as deep as hers the second it left his stupid mouth, "I help run a shop with some buddies of mine, though I'm only working part time right now with college."

"You do? Is it around here? What's the name?" Her eagerness was cute, too. So he gave her the name and helped her find the address on Maps before signing the receipt and making his way out to his car.

Baji was many things, but he wasn't a gossip girl. At least, he didn't think he was until he was leaning backwards on the counter at the pet shop while telling Kazutora all about the pretty girl with brains that helped him get his books. Kazutora was rolling his eyes and chuckling, because of course it was Baji who had a crush on some girl that was just trying to do her job. "Let me get this straight; this girl helped you get your text books, you thought she was super cute but now you think she's even more cute?"

"Dude, she's gorgeous!" Baji leaned forward, "She's gorgeous and smart and dresses nice and she wears this really pretty pink lipstick."

"And she's here."

Baji whipped around at the girls voice, turning a deep and dark shade of red before ducking down under the desk to hide. Kazutora rolled his eyes, "What can I do for you, miss?"

And once again it was that chime like laughter that made Baji's heart flutter, "Well, Baji Keisuke was telling me that he worked here, and your website says that visitors can hold the animals."

"You can. I'm sure Baji-" Kazutora kicked him as he spoke, "-wouldn't mind helping you at all. I would, but I love to watch him suffer when he gets caught talking about someone."

She giggled and smiled more than Baji had ever seen before, then again he'd only ever seen her working and behind that counter. Who could smile a lot when they were at work, anyway? Scratch that. Baji would smile about work if it was paying for college, too. She pointed at the cats pen, "Can I hold the calico?"

"Her name is Katara. She can be moody, but mostly she loves scratches right under her chin and on her chest." Baji unlocked the pen and Katara started meowing loudly, "And she's very talkative."

To ignore the redness in his face and forget that everything he had said was heard by the same girl he was talking about was too much to ask of the universe. Because he couldn't get the tingling from his cheeks off his mind and the girl kept chuckling every time she looked at him, as if his embarrassing moment kept playing through her mind. Part of him was relieved she'd heard so know he didn't have to pretend that he was just some weirdo, but now she knew that he thought those things. She knew!

"I don't want you to think I'm weird or anything..." She used a soft voice no matter where she was, it seemed, "But I looked up your campus ID and got your number. I was going to text you and let you know but I thought that would be really weird and that you'd think I was strange so I didn't but I guess showing up at your place of work and telling you this is also kinda weird..."

She rambled just as much as Baji did, and that was almost enough to put him at ease. "It's cool. Just, uh, just text me whenever you want so I have your number, yeah?" Butterflies were flitting around like crazy in his stomach, twisting everything into a knot and pulling it tight.

"I'm Y/n." She pet Katara gently, her light pink fingernails scratching softly under the kitties chin.

[shuttershocky]

I will preface this by saying I don't believe in ghosts, but...

1) One time in highschool when there was a class event involving sleeping overnight in the gym, I spent one evening talking to a friend while walking around the school field in the dark. However, after some time, they stopped replying, and I realized I had wandered off alone.

I returned to the gym, saw them sleeping there, and asked why they ditched me. They claimed they were inside the gym the whole time.

I had no idea who I was talking to in the dark.

2) I actually posted this story on Tumblr before.

In 2016 we reached our lunchbreak ("lunchbreak" but at like 3PM lol) at work, but the elevators going down were taking way too long to arrive.

Getting impatient, I told my friends/coworkers I was taking the stairs down. A few floors down, I heard their voices above me and realized they followed after me, but they all quieted down after a few minutes of walking.

When I reached the bottom, my coworkers were all there ahead of me, asking me where I had been. They told me they walked down the entire staircase but never saw me. I called bullshit and said they all probably took an elevator down, but they all insisted they didn't.

I checked my phone's clock, and it was 10 whole minutes later than I should have arrived at the bottom of the staircase. I have no idea where that time went.

3) You know what was one of the wildest parts of Catholic school? Bravery tests.

My elementary school would have outings like normal schools do, but one part of the 3 day outings would always involve the teachers making some bravery test they'd challenge the kids to do. They wouldn't be necessary for your grade or anything, they just thought it would be fun.

The problem is, these tests mattered more to the kids than their actual grades. Being graded a dumbass in Math? That was nothing. Being graded a baby? That was the end of you.

Looking back, some of these were really dumb, like one of the security guards was made to put on a gorilla suit and wander the school at night while you were tasked with retrieving stuff the teachers left inside. They wouldn't make the guard chase you or anything, they just wanted you to experience shuffling around in the dark and encountering a gorilla.

Anyway, one year, the bravery test was going through a dimly lit garden full of statues on stands / pedestals, memorizing a written piece a teacher left at the end, and then coming back and reciting it. Many kids were freaked out by all the statues of angels and saints in the dark, especially when stories of statues of Mary or Jesus walking around on their own or crying blood were common ghost stories for kids.

So there I was, in the dark, a little freaked out but not visibly freaking out or I would be bullied even harder than I already was in Grade 5, when i noticed one statue waved. It wasn't a scary moment or anything, just a "hi" wave, which looked so obvious I realized some teacher meant to jumpscare you with that and that kind of broke the tension.

I still failed the bravery test because I never found that notebook in the dark, but yknow, at least I didn't cry or anything.

The next day though, I went back to that garden in the daytime to see which empty pedestal the teacher stood on to jumpscare the kids and found that none of them were empty.

Bonus Round: When Finding Nemo came out, McDonalds made Finding Nemo toys for their Happy Meals. Dory would do her whale call, and Nemo kind of just laughed like a kid. Unfortunately, my little sisters bringing the toys into the bathtubs broke the speakers inside, so one time late at night, Nemo began laughing on his own with no button press, and Dory began a garbled whale call after him. Every 5 or so minutes they would just do that. It creeped my mom out enough that she picked up the toys and tossed them out of the house at 3 AM. They were absolutely just broken toys, but she wasn't taking any chances.

[dumb-teambucciarati-headcanons]

Education headcanons:

Although some of these are canon

Giorno: is still in highschool, but stopped showing up for class when he joined passione. He still makes a point to always be learning, but only focuses on subjects he is interested in. He knows lots of information about the biological world, but has no idea what certain historical figures have done, unless they were particularly interesting to him. Also he sucks at spelling words correctly. In elementary school he wrote a research report on different types of bugs and accidentally released a bunch of bugs into the school and that apparently bothered some of the teachers and other students.

Bruno: he has like half of a middle school education, and his grades were never super high because he would spend time helping his dad with work instead of completing his homework. Up until his parents divorce, then his dad wanted him to focus more on school. But that stopped after his dads incident, and he started providing for him and his dad and protecting him. He asked Fugo to teach him some math, and Fugo reluctantly agreed. But Fugo will go out of his way to try to avoid having to tutor the man because Bruno has a rough time understanding simple concepts and it makes Fugo want to resort to violence. But Fugo respects Bruno and doesn’t want to snap at him because he knows he isn’t trying to piss him off, Bruno’s just dumb as fuck sometimes.

Abbacchio: has a highschool education and went to the police academy. He also has a few basic college courses under his belt. He had a “have to learn in order to get the job I want” mentality towards school, opposed to being super interested in it. He failed PE in middle school and was bullied for it so badly that he started working out everyday so that would never happen again. Also I kinda think he has a photographic memory, which his stand reflects well. He went to a Catholic highschool and his parents were upset that he hadn’t met a nice catholic girl by the time he graduated highschool.

Mista: has a highschool education and wasn’t really interested in getting any degrees, kinda just wanted to fuck around in his young adult years. Math made him cry, and not because he didn’t understand it, he was actually good at math. But the number 4 would haunt his papers. Asked a lot of questions during class. were they ever relevant? No. Did he ask them? Yes. “Hey teach, so gravity. Like what if instead of the earth having a gravitational pull some rando named, uh, Seth did. But ONLY Seth, and everyone was constantly being pulled towards Seth and if you jumped you’d land back on Seth. How would we survive as a species if that were the case?”

Narancia: elementary school dropout. Gets distracted super easily. Would rather do anything but school, however he is very sensitive about having not even finished elementary school. He will pep talk himself into wanting to learn math and things, and then he will start again and will remember why he hates school. But it’s worse when he actually goes to school and sees eight year olds that understand things better than him. opposed to Fugo tutoring him and only having to feel stupid in front of the smartest person he has ever met, like everyone else feels stupid around Fugo too so.

Fugo: you know, the gifted child that went to university super early. Smartest one in the group. He was the kid that would use his pencils entirely until they were sharpened into tiny little things you could barely hold. Also he bites his pens and pencils. He thinks the pencils are more flavorful. Oh and erasers, those tasted good too. The other kids never wanted to play with him because of his short temper, but that didn’t matter because his parents told him that only stupid kids use recess time to play. Classrooms were super overstimulating for him, with that stupid LED lighting that made him feel like he needed to blink his eyes a hundred times. And then doing that would make him feel dizzy and irritable. Like the lights were the worst amount of bright and the worst shade of the color white, and if one of the bulbs flickered he would feel like throwing up. His parents thought he had been drinking once after being in a classroom for too long, but no it was the lights.

Trish: she isn’t stupid, but she was definitely the type to get others to do her homework for her. Is in the middle of highschool. she would spend all of study hour planning elaborate schemes to skip class with her and her friends. Wanted to go to college but wasn’t sure how she was going to pay for it, her new plan involves passione money. That or she is going to become famous, if Bruno and co. would actually let her live instead of saying things like “it’s too dangerous with other mafia members knowing your name”.