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persephonewritessometimes · 1 year

Note

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Where after months ( cuz shes new n young working there)they cant také anymore their attraction to each other.

Key sentences: Hotch: I’m old enough to be your father. R: Should I call you Daddy then?

Smut n fluff

Please

Author's Note: oooo thank you for this request anon!! thinking many thoughts, head very full

Summary: It's no secret that you have a thing for your boss - a man 25 years your senior. What happens when he reveals he has feelings for you too?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (AFAB) Reader

Word Count: 5108 (i got carried away hehe)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! UNDER 18? PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING! SMUT; DADDY KINK; SIR KINK; OVERSTIMULATION; MULTIPLE ORGASMS; UNPROTECTED P IN V (don't be like them y'all, stay safe); DOM!HOTCH, SUB!READER; READER IS HORNY; FINGERING; ORAL (F RECEIVING) reader gets distracted by Hotch's hands, pining, confession of feelings, reader blacks out from cumming really hard; Hotch calls reader "good girl, princess, baby"; Morgan is a cheeky bastard (as per usual)

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

“Y/N, you're staring, again," Morgan says with a chuckle and I quickly find somewhere else to look that isn't our section chief. Which I was definitely not having rated-R thoughts about.

"Shut up, Morgan," I mutter.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" I turn and stare at him now, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Sure, why don't I just tell a much older man that every time I look at him, I feel weak in the knees and sweaty? That would really go over well." I say, sarcastically.

"We're getting tired of watching you eye-fuck him, Y/N." Emily sighs, jumping into the conversation.

"It's getting kind of pathetic at this point," Morgan adds and I smack him on the shoulder.

"You guys are being mean. Let me pine in peace."

"Y/N, none of us are at peace when you start acting like a dog in heat every time Hotch walks in the room. It's genuinely hard to watch." Morgan shoots back, grinning at me. I feel my cheeks grow hot at his brazen comment. "Just put us out of our misery and get laid for once, damn." I feel my cheeks growing even hotter.

"He - he doesn't like me like that." I'm tripping over my words, embarrassed that everyone can see what's clearly written by my body language when Hotch is around.

"Y/N, sweetie, you're smart, but sometimes you're an idiot," Emily says kindly. "He likes you."

"Trust us, we know," Morgan adds.

"How?" I say and cross my arms over my chest.

"Really? Okay. Whenever he's giving a briefing and you're standing next to him, his body gravitates towards yours, you're the first person he looks for in every room, Y/N, two weeks ago on that case in Charleston he almost throttled the officer that merely tried to flirt with you."

"Wait, that officer was flirting with me?" I've only been here a few months, so I haven't learned how to read people as well as him yet.

"Oh my god, she actually is an idiot." Morgan groans. "Yes! He always got you coffee refills without asking, offered you the first pick of the donuts, and gave you, and only you, a very thorough tour of the precinct. He was trying to impress you." He looks at me closely. "How the fuck did you get this job?" I shrug.

"Impeccable academic record?" I suggest timidly, and he snorts.

"Just pay attention to Hotch. More than you are already. You'll see."

"He's old enough to be my dad," I say.

"Why do I have the feeling that only fuels your fantasies?" Morgan mutters. "I'm done with this conversation. Either you tell him, Y/N, or I will."

"MORGAN!" He just throws his hands up in the air giving me an exasperated look. "Em? A little back up here?"

"As much as I hate to agree with Morgan, he has a point. It’s kind of hard to focus on work when we all know what’s going on except for you two. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but just say something, for the sake of everyone who has to be in a room with you guys. I could cut the tension between you two like a knife.” She gives me a small smile.

“I- I’m just nervous. What if you guys are wrong?” She places her hand over mine.

“We’re not wrong, Y/N. We even asked Reid to weigh in and he agrees with us. Just say something.” I frown and head back to my desk, needing to be alone with my thoughts for a while. I’m deep in a stack of paperwork when Hotch calls the team into a meeting. I sigh, set my pen aside, and make my way into the boardroom. I’m on high alert, due to Morgan’s comment, and as I step into the room, I glance at Hotch to find him already looking at me. He looks away quickly and I watch as the tips of his ears turn pink. Oh my god, they were right.

I’m hyper-aware of him the whole meeting, so much so that I barely heard a word he was saying.

“Y/N? Are you paying attention?” Hotch asks, looking at me.

“Uh, yes, sir.” I blurt out in a panic. I wasn’t expecting him to directly address me.

“YES SIR?” Morgan hollers. “That’s a new one.” Even Em is hiding a smile behind her hand. Hotch glares at him.

“Don’t tease her, Morgan. Y/N, please pay attention.”

“I will, sorry Hotch.” He just nods and goes back to what he was saying. I tried to pay attention I really did but I found myself watching his hands as he talked. He gestures at the screen, then to something in the paper he had given us, then puts his hand on his hip. His fingers are so thick I wonder if two would even fit inside of me. I’m thinking about him fingering me on his desk, pussy splayed and dripping for him, and I shift in my seat, feeling the wetness in my panties. Dammit, Y/N, don’t get carried away.

“Y/N, seriously,” Hotch sighs a few minutes later and I’m dragged from my dirty daydream. “I need you to pay attention or leave. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Morgan whispers with a grin. I glare at him.

“I’m trying to pay attention, I swear.”

“Are you sick? You look a bit warm, why don’t you step out for a few minutes.” I just nod, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. “And I want to see you in my office when we’re done with this meeting.” I nod again and feel my stomach drop to my ass in nervousness. I quickly walk out of the room and am pacing when the door opens up and Morgan walks out, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What the hell were you thinking about in there?” He whispers, then pauses, “Actually, I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Just leave me alone, Morgan. I’m embarrassed enough already.” I say quietly.

“Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you too much. You’re just an easy target. If it helps any, Hotch was downright flushed after you left. He stumbled over his words. Twice. I’ve never seen him that flustered. It’s like he knew what you were thinking about.” He nudges me with his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, okay?”

“You’re not the one who has to face him in his office,” I grumble.

“Well, just make sure you guys close the blinds.”

“MORGAN! Shut up!” He’s laughing as he walks away. JJ and Em shoot me sympathetic smiles as they walk by and Reid pats me on the shoulder. Hotch doesn’t say a word as he walks out of the boardroom, and I diligently follow him to his office.

“Take a seat.” He says, gesturing at the chair and my eyes follow his hand again. Y/N! Stop! That’s what got you in trouble in the first place! I quickly take a seat, clasping my hands in my lap. “Now do you want to tell me why you were so distracted today?” He asks, looking at me. I feel the heat creep up my chest and onto my cheeks.

“I-um-no. No, I don’t.” He raises an eyebrow at that.

“Really? Because Morgan seems to have an idea. Maybe I should go ask him what he thinks.”

“No!” I blurt out. “Sorry. It’s just…embarrassing.” He just looks at me and I sigh before whispering, “Your hands. I was distracted by your hands.”

“My…hands?” He says slowly.

“Yes, sir, I mean Hotch, sorry. I know it’s not appropriate and I apologize.”

“What is it about my hands?” He asks, his voice low and in a tone that makes my heartbeat travel down to my pussy. I shift in my seat, a movement that most likely does not go unnoticed by him. “Y/N. Look at me.” I take a shaky breath and look up at him, all rational thoughts leaving my head when I see that his cheeks are pink, and his pupils are so blown I can barely see the brown. “What is it. About my hands.” He enunciates every word.

“They’re big,” I whisper.

“And what does that make you think about?”

“Please don’t make me say it.”

“No, no I want to hear you say it.”

In the smallest voice possible I say, “I was wondering if your fingers would even fit in me.” I hear him take in a sharp breath. “What it would feel like to be spread out on your desk with - with your fingers inside of me.”

“Careful, Y/N, you’re walking a thin line.” He murmurs.

“Haven’t I crossed it already, sir?”

“I’m old enough to be your father.” He says, words clipped. I get a sudden burst of confidence and stare him down.

“Should I call you Daddy, then?” I ask sweetly. I watch as he tightens his jaw.

“Watch your mouth, little girl. You don’t want to see how mean Daddy can get.”

“And what if I want to find out, Daddy?” I watch as his nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath.

“That’s enough, Y/N.” He spits out and I still, and fear that I’m about to lose my job to ill-timed arousal. My breath hitches as he leans back in his chair, eyes carefully watching me. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Whatever you’d like to, sir,” I say simply and I watch his jaw tick again.

“Listen to me very carefully. We are going to go downstairs, you are going to gather your things, and you are not going to say a single word. I’m going to tell everyone that you’re not feeling well enough to drive, so I’m taking you home.” I swallow hard, not believing that this is actually happening right now. “Do you understand?” I nod quickly. “I need to hear you say you understand. Or else this stops now, and we don’t speak of it again.”

“I understand completely, sir.”

“Good girl.” He says in a low voice and a whimper escapes me before I can shove it down. He stiffens. “Do you like that? Hearing that you’re a good girl?” My pussy clenches around nothing, begging to be filled.

“Yes, Daddy.” He hums, getting up quickly and my mouth goes dry when I see the tented fabric of his pants. He shrugs off his suit jacket and slings it over his forearm and in front of his body, effectively hiding his raging boner. He walks over to me, and I hastily get up from the chair, and he grabs my arm, gripping it just hard enough to keep me grounded and lucid despite the lust-filled thoughts in my head. He yanks open his office door and we make our way down the stairs. I keep my head down as we approach my desk, the bullpen so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Y/N isn’t feeling well. I’m driving her home.” Hotch says, letting go of my arm so I can grab my jacket and purse. I glance at him, nodding that I have everything, and he grabs my arm again, and we hastily walk towards the elevator.

“GO EASY ON HER, HOTCH!” Morgan shouts, and I hear Em laugh.

“Shut up, Morgan.” Hotch growls over his shoulder, and I glance back at Morgan, who mouths ‘Good luck’ at me. “Don’t look at him. The only person you should be looking at is me, princess.” We get in the elevator, and he pushes the button so hard I think that he’s going to break the damn thing.

“Jesus, what’s got you so riled up?” I say sweetly, not caring that I’d probably pay for that question later. I just want to see him snap, lose that carefully cultivated control and unleash himself on me. He turns on me in a second, caging my body between the wall of the elevator and the hard planes of his body. He grabs my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.

“Watch yourself. I’d hate for you to get into something you can’t handle.”

“I can take whatever you throw at me, sir.” He laughs.

“Yeah, right, princess. Keep talking a big game – we’ll see how far that gets you.”

“Well, it got me here, didn’t it?”

“Right where you wanted, I presume?” He asks, tilting his head and there’s nothing friendly in his eyes. I just nod, sucking in a breath when he pushes his body closer to mine and his hard-on is pressing into my thigh. “Before this goes further: green for go, yellow for slow down, red for hard stop, no questions asked. Do you understand?” I nod, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I understand!” I blurt out.

“Good.” He suddenly dips his head down, nose bumping into mine as we share the same breaths for a few seconds. “I’m going to ruin you.” He whispers onto my lips, not quite kissing me.

“Please. Ruin me, Daddy,” I whisper and he’s kissing me as soon as the last word is out of my mouth. It’s overwhelming, the way he kisses, stealing all the air from my lungs in a millisecond. I gasp when the hand from my chin drops to my chest, reaching into my dress shirt and under my tank top to tweak my right nipple. He takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, tasting me. The elevator dings and his hand disappears from my shirt and his lips retreat. I whine at the sudden loss of contact, as we had just gone from 100 miles an hour to 0 miles an hour.

“I know, princess, I’m sorry. You don’t want Daddy to get caught, do you?” I shake my head vigorously and he chuckles, escorting me to his car, and opens the passenger door for me, ever the gentleman. He gets in and starts the car as I buckle my seatbelt. He backs out of the parking spot, placing one hand on the back of my headrest and I suck in a sharp breath. He glances at me. “Really? You’re turned on by my driving?”

“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.” I breathe out, not daring to look at him. My cheeks are warm, and I feel frazzled. I jump when his hand comes to rest on my thigh, dangerously close to where I want him. I shift my hips, trying to get him closer to where I need him. He smacks my thigh abruptly.

“Don’t do that. You can wait.” He says gruffly.

“I can’t. I can’t wait.” I gasp out. “Please. Please touch me. I need you. Please, sir, I’ll do anything.”

“I’ll oblige you, but only because you begged so prettily. I like it when you sound desperate. One rule though: no cumming without my permission.” His hand slips under my skirt and I thank god that this was one of the rare days I decided to wear one. His fingers ghost over my cunt, the lightest touch and my breathing is already starting to labor. When his fingers press my clit from outside my panties my hips buck into the air. “Someone’s responsive.” He says, more to himself than me. His fingers trail lower, and he groans when he feels the wet spot. “Already this wet for me, princess?”

“Only for you, Daddy.” I whimper when he pushes my panties to the side, hand now free to touch as he pleases. His fingers come up to tease my clit again before one deftly slips inside of me. I let out a choked sound, tight around him. Just one finger feels thick, and when he slips in another finger I keen, tightening again.

“Jesus, you’re tight.” He curls his fingers and hits that spot inside of me that I struggle to hit by myself. I gasp, hand closing around his wrist, and I don’t know if I’m trying to stop him or egg him on. He continues to work his fingers in me as he drives and I’m not sure how he’s managing to stay on the road. I know I should reciprocate but the feeling of his fingers plunging in and out of me has made every thought I’ve ever had flee my brain. After a few minutes, my thighs start to shake and I’m panting, so close to a mind-blowing orgasm that I forget he told me I can’t cum without his permission. His fingers slip out of me seconds before I hit my peak.

“NO!” I shout, shaking in the passenger seat, sitting in a small puddle of my own arousal. I hope it stains his impeccable leather seats.

“Only good girls get to cum, and you haven’t been a good girl today, baby,” He says, “Open.” I open my mouth and he slips the fingers he just had inside of me into my awaiting mouth. I suck his fingers off earnestly, just like I would to his cock if he gave me the chance. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and I realize he’s parked the car in his garage. Is this really happening? I think to myself. “Color?” He asks me, turning my face so I can look into his eyes. I could get lost in his eyes.

“Green,” I say quickly.

“Good girl,” He whispers and meets my mouth in a messy kiss full of tongue, need, and teeth.

I don’t know how we made it inside, but as soon as I cross through the doorway, Hotch throws me over his shoulder, and I shriek. He carries me to the bedroom, dropping me on the bed. I’m paralyzed as I watch him rip his tie off, dress shirt following soon after. He’s beautiful, and I want to run my hands all over him and feel every scar. My eyes are tracing his chest and ever the profiler, he notices.

“You can touch. It’s okay.” He walks over to me, planting himself between my legs. I timidly touch his stomach, trailing my hands up his abdomen, running my fingers along his scars in quiet admiration. He suddenly takes my hand, kissing it, a break in the dominant façade. I give him a soft smile, one that has always been reserved for him, and his breath hitches in his chest. His hands cup my face, looking into my eyes, and I’ve never felt safer than I have at this moment. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch, my hands resting on his wrists. It feels like we’re the only people in the world, two souls destined to collide. His next kiss is gentle as if he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but he tosses his resolve out the window when I bite his bottom lip. He growls, pushing me onto my back and stepping out of his pants and boxers. I push myself up on my elbows to watch him and gasp when he’s revealed to me completely. He’s big. Bigger than I’ve had before. I knew it would be big because of his damn hands. “You’re far too dressed for my liking.” He mutters, and the next moment he actually rips my shirt off of me, buttons flying everywhere.

“HOTCH!” He stops, looking at me.

“Try again, sweetheart.”

“Sorry. Daddy.”

“Much better. And Daddy will buy you a new one, okay?” I nod, suddenly unable to think as he slides off my tank top and unclasps my bra. My nipples are aching to be touched and as if he can read my mind, his head dips down to take my left nipple in his mouth. I suck in a breath, my hand coming to rest on the back of his head. His tongue laves over my nipple, and I swear I see God for a moment. He moves to the other side and my cunt is begging for attention. He slides my skirt and panties off without once leaving my chest. And when I’m naked before him, he kisses his way up my throat, leaving hickeys that will definitely be hard to hide.

“Daddy, people will see.”

“And? They should know whom you belong to.” He says plainly, he leans back, admiring my form and my hips jump up on their own accord, grazing his weeping tip in the process.

“Fuck, princess, don’t do that.”

“Please, please, please, Daddy, I need you so bad.”

“Daddy has to make sure you’re ready for him. I don’t know if my fat cock will fit in your tight little pussy.” I whimper at his words, more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life. He slides down my body, pressing kisses into my skin as he goes until he gets on his knees, dragging me towards the edge of the bed. He slings both of my legs over his shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss into my thigh. “Your pussy is dripping for me, princess. Can I taste it?”

“Please,” I manage to whisper, and I watch as his head dips down and he licks up my pussy. He groans against my clit when he tastes me, and I shout in surprise at the added stimulation. He chuckles against me and goes to work, tongue thrusting shallowly in me before coming up to tease my clit. He’s getting me closer to the edge and when I feel two of his fingers slide into me easily, I sigh contentedly. He finds the spongy spot inside of me with ease, hitting it every time he thrusts his fingers into me. I’m hurtling towards my peak when I gasp out, “Daddy, please, I’m close, can I cum? Please? I’ll be a good girl, I promise. Your good girl.” His eyes flick up and he watches me, never stopping, and watches as my abdomen tenses and I start to clench around his fingers, panting. He pulls his mouth away from me just long enough to whisper,

“You can let go, princess.” And resumes his torturous pace on me. My hand shoots down to grip his hair and a few seconds later my orgasm rips through me. I shout loudly, hips moving with abandon against his face, and he doesn’t let up, continuing to lick and finger me through it until I’m twitching with overstimulation.

“Daddy, please, too much.”

“You wanted to cum, princess, so you’re going to cum until I’m done.” He growls and goes back to eating me out. I had no time to come down from my first orgasm and my body is already sprinting full speed ahead toward my second. My thighs clench around his face but it doesn’t stop him. He stills his fingers inside me and simply presses them into my G-spot, never letting up, just putting constant pressure on it.

I’m babbling at this point, nothing coherent coming from my lips except for ‘daddy’ and ‘please’. My orgasm blindsides me and I clench hard around his fingers and scream, not caring if anyone can hear me. My vision goes spotty as I continue to cum until he finally slips his fingers out and I feel like I can breathe again. I’m gasping for air as his touch trails along my hips.

“Still with me, pretty girl?” I nod still gasping. “Color?”

“Green, green, green.” I pant out quickly and he chuckles. He gives me a few more seconds to come down, tracing gentle patterns into my sides and he kisses me once my breathing slows. I pull away to bite my way down his neck, leaving my own marks on him. “Daddy, need you inside me, please.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for me, princess?”

“Yes! Yes! So ready! Please just fuck me!”

“Okay, let me grab a condom.”

“No!” I shout, grabbing his shoulders. “I’m clean. Please, I want to feel you. Just you.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He says, kissing the tip of my nose. I watch as he pumps himself a few times and lines up with my entrance. He pushes in, just barely, and stays there until I’m begging him to push the rest of the way in.

“Please, Daddy, I want to feel full. I feel so empty.” He sheathes himself in me in one quick motion and I gasp. “Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper onto his lips.

“Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re so goddamn tight.” He’s still above me, and I can see his shoulders shaking in restraint. “You feel like heaven.”

“Please move, please. Let go, I can take it.” I whisper, peering into his eyes and he pulls out a little bit to thrust shallowly. He swallows my moan with his lips, kissing me with the fervor of a man starved. He starts off at a slow pace and despite being sensitive from my previous two orgasms, I need more. I dig my nails into his shoulder. “Please, for the love of God, fuck me. Hard. Please. I can take it. All of it.” He looks at me hard, searching for any hesitation, but his dick is literally inside of me, so there’s no hesitation on my part. I nod up at him and he leans down to kiss me as he starts to set a brutal pace. His hips are slamming against mine and when I shift my hips up to meet his thrusts he hits my G-spot with every thrust. “SHIT!” I shout, the words quickly turning into a loud moan as his thumb comes down to flick at my clit. I’m shaking with arousal, and I can feel his balls slap against my ass with how hard he’s fucking me.

“Come on, pretty girl, I know you’ve got one more in you. Give it to Daddy. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” There are no thoughts in my head anymore, everything in me has zeroed in on the feeling of him literally fucking me into the mattress. “You look so pretty fucked out like this, bet you can’t think of anything but my cock inside of you, huh?” I nod and he laughs, kissing me hard. He leans back just enough to change the angle by shifting my calf onto his shoulder. He thrusts, hard, and I whimper. “You make such pretty sounds when I’m fucking you.” He picks up the pace again, moving his thumb on my clit in tight circles. I let out a broken moan as he hits just the right spot inside of me, and he takes note of it, hitting the same spot repeatedly, thumb keeping its pace on my clit. It’s overwhelming and I know that this orgasm is going to ruin other men for me. No one can do it like him. “Y/N,” his voice is low, “Look at me, baby, I want to watch you fall apart.” I drag my eyes open and look at him with dazed eyes. One particularly hard thrust and a drag of his thumb over my clit and I’m cumming violently, thrashing against him and gripping the bed sheets, my body spasming and I feel him fuck me through it and spill inside of me with a shouted curse before I black out.

I come to and can feel a warm washcloth being dragged between my legs gingerly. I hiss at the contact.

“Oh, thank god, are you okay?” I nod, throat raspy from screaming. “Can I get you anything?” I shake my head no, and the warm washcloth returns, I jump at the sensation. “I know, I have to clean you up though, okay?” He finishes in the next couple of moments and throws the washcloth into the hamper.

“How long was I out?” I say softly.

“Five minutes? Maybe six.” I nod.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? Y/N, that was the biggest ego boost I’ve had in years.” He chuckles and I let out a weak laugh.

“Help me up?” I whisper, holding my hands out toward him. He obliges, gently grabbing my hands and pulling me into a sitting position. My vision starts to go spotty again. “Oh, Jesus,” I say, starting to slump forwards. His arms wrap around me quickly, holding me against his chest until my vision starts to return to normal. His thumbs are rubbing my back and I wish I could stay in this moment forever. “I’m okay, I think,” I whisper after a minute and try to pull away but he only lets me get a few inches away, eyes worriedly searching my face. “Hotch, I’m fine. I swear. Now let me go so I can go pee.” He lets go of me slowly and when I stand up to walk toward the bathroom, my legs buckle underneath me. “Oh, come on!” I exclaim, but Hotch is right there to catch me. He scoops me up despite my protests and carries me bridal style to the bathroom, setting me down on the toilet. “Thank you,” I whisper, suddenly embarrassed.

“No, don’t do that. I can see you trying to hide, getting embarrassed.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Yeah, when your guard is down, you’re easy to read.”

“So, uh, do we just pretend this never happened? Go back to the way things were. I assume that’s what you want?” I bury my face in my hands, unable to look at him.

“Go back to the way things were? Y/N, baby, no. I can’t go back. This was not a one-time thing. I’m yours if you’ll have me.” I peek at him from between my fingers.

“Wait, you’re being serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” He gets on his knees in front of me. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment you walked into my office. I just didn’t think you’d reciprocate, until Morgan made a comment two months ago about your body language, and that’s when I had the hunch you felt the same way.”

“So, you’ve known I’ve been pining over you for months and didn’t think to say anything?” My pitch gets higher as the sentence goes on.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Yes, I’m clearly uncomfortable with you as I’m sitting in front of you, naked,” I say drily and he laughs again.

“Yeah, I know, I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, you are,” I say, smiling, before adding, “But you’re my idiot.” His eyes brighten at that.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. As you said, I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“Good. Because I’m never letting go of you.” I feel my cheeks grow warm.

“Good, because I don’t want you to.”

#hotch x y/n #hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #hotch x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch smut

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runningfrom2am · 3 months

Text

cold nights // part twenty-four

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: yayyyy omg i didn't mean to wait so long to post this sorry y'all. also i think i have a coryo oneshot on the way soon maybe. unrelated to BOTH of these series, which is unheard of from me lol. oh, and i'm planning a few for this series for once it's done. (which is creeping up on us, somehow)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"Coryo." Tigris says as he comes back from walking their grandmother back to her room. With the "horrible" news that a District girl would be living with them, she insisted she had to lie down or she may just die.

"She's fine." He waves his cousin off, brushing past her to grab your bag for you. "Just her typical theatrics, she'll love Y/N when she gets to know her. Don't worry."

"It's not grandma'am I'm worried about." She whispers, grabbing his arm to stop him.

"Y/N?" He frowns, pausing and looking at her. "Is she okay? God- I was scared of grandma'am saying something like that to her..."

"She's fine, but you called her 'love', Coryo. In the elevator. Is she your girlfriend now, or something like that?" Tigris asks, looking back down the hall to make sure neither you nor their grandmother were overhearing.

"I mean, kind of? Not really, I don't know." He stammers, avoiding her eyes. "We never talked about it."

"Coryo!" She hisses. "If grandma'am finds out she'll have a heart attack!"

"Okay, then she doesn't have to know yet. As I said, one, we haven't talked about it and two, grandma'am will get used to her eventually and it will be fine."

"I know that." Tigris sighs, taking a step back and rubbing her head. "I'm making up the guest room for her. Just... don't let grandma'am find out."

"Obviously not." He mutters, picking up your bag to carry into the guest room.

"But Coryo-" She stops him in his tracks and he turns, looking at her expectantly. "Don't think I'm not happy for you, okay? She's incredibly sweet. Just... keep it between you guys for now. Be gentle with her."

He nods, giving her a small smile before carrying on down the hall.

When Coryo opens the door to his bedroom, you're sitting in the middle of the floor, leaning over your crossed legs as you write against the floor. "Y/N/N." He laughs slightly, closing the door behind himself. "What are you doing?"

You look up, and can't help but smile when you see him. "Hi." You grin, straightening up and standing, unfinished letter and pencil still in hand. "I was writing a letter to Lennox."

"On the floor?"

"Yes."

"There's a perfectly functional desk right behind you, love." He points as he closes the gap between the two of you.

"Yes, well, I did not want to overstep or seem nosey." You explain, looking at the desk and then back up at him.

He smiles, placing his hands on your waist. "This is my room."

"Exactly."

"What I meant," He chuckles, thumbs running over the sides of your stomach on your top. "Is that you can do whatever you want."

"Oh, well, thank you." You nod, looking down at the bed. "I'm glad to hear that because Tybs has already taken over your bed."

When he follows your eyes to the cat sprawled out on top of his sheets, he laughs. "See? He's already made himself at home."

"I am so sorry, I tried to keep him off. His hair gets on everything." You quickly say, already reaching to pick up your stubborn cat again.

"I have a lint roller." He shrugs, grabbing your wrist to stop you and leaning down to kiss your cheek.

"A lint roller?"

"Oh, love..." He chuckles, crouching down slightly to be able to pull you closer as he lifts you and spins you in a circle.

You laugh, trying not to crush your letter as you hold onto him.

"I can't wait to show you everything. You're going to love it here." He grins, letting you back down onto your feet. "I know you will."

You bite your lip over a fading smile, nodding up at him.

"I know it's scary, I know that." He assures you, once again running his hands up and down the side of your waist. "But you'll get used to it, and you'll be happy here. I promise."

"How are you finding things so far?" Tigris asks, curious as you make eye contact with her while making an extremely conscious effort to not spill the tea from the cup in your hand. It felt so delicate in your hands, and you have never felt filthier- as if just sitting on their couch or touching their things would ruin them. "Not that you've seen much, yet."

"It's..." You start, deciding just to put the steaming tea down so you don't spill it on your lap. "It really is like I've never been here before. Which is nice, because I was scared to come back, if I am being totally honest."

"I can imagine." She nods in understanding.

"When, um, when I was last here," You clear your throat. "We didn't see much of anything. We were always moved in vehicles with no windows except for the funeral, so..."

We.

"You could see some of the city from the zoo, though." Coryo adds.

"I could." You nod, swallowing over the dryness suddenly overbearing in your mouth. "Tigris, Coryo says you're a designer?" Changing the subject was the only thing you could do to help it.

"Yes, well, I'm trying." She laughs.

"My Ma is a seamstress." You tell her. "She's made everythin' I've ever worn." The way your District accent seems to reappear makes Coryo smile to himself- that's who you were at home. He can hear the tension and nerves leaving your tone.

"Really?" She smiles. "That's amazing. I've made much of our clothes, too, but it's just so hard to find the time."

"It is extremely time-consuming." You agree, looking over at Coryo next to you as he pats your shoulder. He points to the tray of snacks Tigris had brought out, and you reach out to take a cookie. You hadn't eaten all day, which was likely contributing to your shakiness. Though, you also hadn't felt hungry at all since you left home.

"Your mother is very talented." Tigris says, taking a sip of her tea and gesturing to the skirt and top you were currently wearing. "Does she embroider too?"

You look down, taking note of the detailing on the trim of your sweater. "Yes. All by hand."

"I've never tried it, I wouldn't know where to start." Tigris laughs.

"Oh, me neither." You laugh slightly, shaking your head. You did know, you weren't as good at it as your ma, but she still put in the effort of teaching you the basics.

"Don't talk too much about this- Tigris will turn you into a human pin cushion." Coryo teases, looking back to the hall to make sure grandma'am hadn't somehow made an early recovery and come out of her room before he can place his arm over your shoulders.

"Oh, hush." She laughs, pretending to throw a cookie at him as you chew slowly on yours, smiling. They remind you of you and Lennox, almost. The way they talk to each other, and how much it's obvious they love each other. Anywhere in Panem, kids are just kids.

The wave of a sick, gut-wrenching feeling hits you so fast that you stand up before you can even think about it. "Would you excuse me?" You mumble, turning and retreating down the hall to look for the bathroom Tigris pointed out earlier without even hearing either of their responses.

By the time you gently close the door and slide the lock shut, you're near hyperventilating. You hadn't even said goodbye to your own brother. You wrote him a note promising to write him every week and call once they had the phone that Coryo left them money for, but it wasn't enough. The idea of him waking to find you just gone, again, was all it took to have you sliding down the wall and curling up with your knees to your chest.

You were alone, and you missed your brother. Your family, the Covey. You should have said a longer goodbye to Lucy Gray, you should have woken Lennox and faced his anger about you leaving because that would mean you could have at least given him a hug. You felt like an awful sister, and an awful friend.

Even as you screw your eyes shut to try and pretend you're in your own bathroom, it doesn't do a thing to hold back the tears that have begun to stream freely down your face.

You have to be quiet.

What helped last time? Last time, you ran over lines. Coryo asked you to talk to him. Coryo was there.

Oh, she tore the letter into a thousand half-pence; railed at herself, that she should be so immodest to write to one that she knew would flout her. 'I measure him,' says she, 'by my own spirit; for I should flout him, if he writ to me; yea, though I love him, I should.

Thinking about it does very little as well, so you continue. With your forehead pressed to your knees, random lines and quotes flow through your head and are endlessly whispered from your lips. You don't have time to think of anything else.

You were getting better at managing your own panic attacks before Coryo came to Twelve, but since then you had been set back to square one. The games ended over two months ago now, and it still feels like it was only a week ago; the shock had worn off and you felt like you were losing your mind. Other times, other days, you were completely fine. As if none of it had ever happened, but would this move be the beginning of round three? Was this what your life was now? A never-ending cycle of feeling normal followed suddenly by the need to pull yourself up and out of rock bottom?

You didn't know if you could take it.

The nightmares came back day in and day out in that first week. You hadn't slept well, and you only left the apartment a small handful of times and even that was only for the sake of sending letters, getting things for Tybalt, and taking him to the vet.

Coryo really wanted you to get out with him for something you wanted to do or see, but at the same time, he understood why you wouldn't want to leave. When you finally agreed to leave with him, to go to the university campus with him to pick up an application and so he could give you a tour, he felt like a kid on Christmas morning.

"So, we live in The Corso. That main street we were just on, obviously. That's where all the Capitols Elites live, for the most part." Coryo explains, but you're having trouble paying attention. There were just so many people. You'd seen large groups of people before in Twelve, at the market or The Hob or the reaping, but never when everyone looked so different. At the same time, this also made it easier for you to blend in. Hardly anyone had stopped you, and you hoped it would be less and less from here on out. "Hey- you still with me?"

You look up at him, nodding. "Yes, that's lovely."

"You have no idea what I just said, do you?" He laughs, reaching out to gently fix the orange scarf you had draped around your neck and over your head that had begun to slide back over your hair. It was another effort to hide- it made you feel safe. You intended to return the scarf to him, but he insisted you keep it. Suddenly, you went nowhere without it.

"Sorry, it's just... quite loud. There's a lot of people." You explain, and he has to lean down slightly to hear you.

"Yeah, well, it is a Monday morning." He says, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Lots of people going to work."

You just nod, subconsciously drifting closer to his side as you walk.

"I was just saying that this is the route we'll take to get to school." Coryo grins, gently nudging your side.

"If I get accepted."

"You will." He assures you. "I don't doubt it for a minute."

Walking onto what must be the university campus, you already see fewer people. Classes for the fall semester didn't begin for a couple of weeks, Coryo said, so that allowed you to tour the buildings and property peacefully after you picked up your application.

It was another ornate building- outside and in, you realized as Coryo opened the double doors for you. You look around, eyes wide.

"Nice, hey?" He smiles, taking your hand. "Come on, the registrar's office is this way."

You follow him blindly down a few hallways, looking up at the tall ceilings and the paintings and out the windows and even at the architecture of the building itself. It was a lot to take in, but you were pleased it was so quiet. It wouldn't always be like this, and given that you do get accepted the way he promised, you wouldn't have time to process the beauty of it later.

Entering the office behind Coryo, you decide to keep your position mostly behind him as he walks up to the desk. There's not an ounce of hesitation in his gait- or in the smile on his face. He's all confidence. This is him in his natural state- it was nice to see him truly happy.

"Good morning, Mister Snow, what can we do for you? Did you want a paper copy of your schedule?" The woman behind the counter asks him, neatly stacking some papers and placing them down next to some books on her desk.

"Hello," He grins. "I actually was hoping I could get another copy of the application forms."

"Oh? Registration and acceptance closed weeks ago."

"I know that, but..." He steps to the side, nodding for you to join him. Nervously, you do, grabbing his hand under the counter. "This is Y/N, she'd like to apply. I know it's late but she just moved to the city so I was hoping we could work around it."

The woman's eyes widen. "I- Uh, yes, okay. Yes. We can certainly try." She nods quickly. "What program will you be applying for, Miss Y/L/N?" Of course she knew who you were, and maybe now it would benefit you.

You look up at Coryo, but he just nods at you to answer. "Oh, um, English Literature, please." You answer quietly.

"Arts." Coryo corrects you kindly, squeezing your hand and nodding to her.

"Alright, let me just grab those for you." She smiles, heels clicking on the floor as she walks toward a back room.

"And I would like my schedule, if that's possible!" Coryo calls after her and she turns to give him a quick nod before disappearing behind a polished dark-wood door. "English Lit will be your major, love, but you don't need to decide on that yet." He whispers to you.

"Gosh, I'm already embarrassing myself." You laugh slightly.

"No, no you're not. It's a little confusing. I should have told you."

"I didn't know registration was already closed, Coryo." You frown. "If it's inconvenient for them we should just go. I'll just find a job instead."

"Nonsense." He shakes his head. "Like I said, they want you here. They will make it happen, trust me."

"That's not fair though, is it?"

"It's more fair because you couldn't have handed it in on time if you wanted to." He says, dropping your hand in favour of sliding his onto your lower back.

"I suppose..."

"Okay! I've got it here..." The woman reappears and you paint on your smile, reaching out for the small folder as she walks up. "There's the application and some testing questions. If you could get it to us by tomorrow night that would be amazing."

"Yes, of course, I-"

"Tomorrow night?" Coryo asks, eyebrows raised at her. "Miss, respectfully, I worked on my application for weeks, and my tests were conducted by the school."

"You'll do just fine. Just try your best." She winks at you and he purses his lips, displeased that they hardly were even giving you a chance to submit an adequate application that would accurately reflect the extent of your intelligence.

"Thank you." You tell her honestly, clutching the stack of papers to your chest. "I shall have it done tomorrow."

Coryo assumes it must be different- shorter or lacking one (or several) of the essay portions. He grabs his schedule from her with a small smile, nodding before guiding you out of the room.

"Are you hungry or anything, love?" He asks you, sliding his hand up your back to rest between your shoulder blades as you move down the same empty hall. "I could show you around and then we could stop on our way back."

You chew your lip, papers clutched against your chest. "Perhaps you can give me the tour tomorrow when we come back to drop this off?" You ask, looking up at him. "I think it is more important I go home and get this finished, there is no time to waste."

He smiles, leaning over to kiss the crown of your head while you walk. "Yes, of course. Whatever you want."

'The lessons we take from obstacles we encounter can be fundamental to later success. Recount a time when you faced a challenge, setback, or failure. How did it affect you, and what did you learn from the experience?'

Staring at the essay question on the page didn't make it any easier to answer. You almost wish you had started with this so you had more time, rather than filling out all the personal information on the first and second pages and the financial information Coryo helped you with.

The answer was painfully obvious. You didn't want to write about the games, how they challenged you both mentally and physically, and what you learned from them. A lot about yourself, very little about the city you now found yourself living in.

Tapping your pen against the desk, you roll over in your mind how you want to word this. It was a delicate line to walk- it had to be honest, but also favourable to the people who lived here.

"Coryo?" You call out, turning in your chair and standing up to head across down the hall to his room.

He had left the door open, laying overtop of his ironed bedsheets and reading one of the many books you brought for him. "Can you come help me, please?"

He smiles, dropping the book immediately. "What do you need?"

"The essay... I don't know what to write." Mostly a lie, you just needed clarification on the best possible route to take the paper.

"What was the question again?" He asks as he gets up.

"What is a challenge I faced, how did it affect me, and what did I learn from it."

"What about the games?" He suggests as he brushes past you, heading into your room as you trail behind.

"Well, yes, but I don't know how to best approach it. I feel like that is a very delicate subject from my perspective." You explain. "I want to be honest but I also want them to like it."

Coryo hums, leaning over your desk to look at what has been completed on the application so far. "That's... yeah that's tough." He agrees. "If you were to answer it fully honestly, no watering it down for them, what would you want to say?"

"That..." You pause, thinking about it for a moment. "That it ruined my life. I'll never be the same person again- and neither will my loved ones, and I learned that my morals crumbled quickly under pressure." And that it's better to die in the games than live to tell the tale.

"Okay, so... it gave you a new outlook on life and a more profound appreciation for the life you had before, and you learned that people can change quickly to adapt and overcome their circumstances," Coryo says, and you frown. "Not that it is necessarily true, but that's what they'd like to hear and you wouldn't be completely lying."

He was good at twisting words and telling people what they wanted to hear in order to get what he needed from them; after all, he'd been doing it his whole life just to stay alive. His future depended on it, but you had never noticed that before. Maybe that came with a Capitol education, 'people pleasing' could be a course they taught at his academy, you wouldn't know. Power is everything here, apparently.

"And... I suppose if I had to think of an honestly good thing, I did make some friends out of it." You say, smiling up at him hopefully.

"And I am so glad," He nods, patting your shoulder. You always tried to look at the bright side- he remembered getting that impression from you even just watching the reaping. "But you can't include that."

"Why not?" You tilt your head at him.

"They won't like it, love. I mean, I would, but unfortunately, it's not for me to read."

"I see. Okay." You nod, biting your tongue. Your priorities had to shift if you wanted to get into the university, and that is a condition you could accept with a bit of practice.

"Want me to stay in here?" Coryo offers. "In case you have more questions?"

"I would like you to stay regardless." You giggle, sliding your arms around his waist to hug him.

"Good." He chuckles. "I didn't want to leave."

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sugarandspisces-writes · 11 months

Note

Hii, I saw your requests are open, I’m so excited!

So I wanted to ask a Melissa x reader where the reader is working at abbott maybe for 2 or 3 years and Melissa always talks about the reader on her family dinners. One day Mel takes the reader to one of those dinners and Melissa’s family think they are dating but they are not (although we all know they love each other).

Can you make it with a happy ending? Thank you!

Party Favor

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Summary: Melissa invites r to her birthday dinner and her family is convinced that they are dating. More details in the request above!

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Thank you for sending in this request, anon! I hope y'all enjoy!

Translation: Cara = Dear

You admired the glow of the afternoon sun as it peeked through your living room windows. You just finished doing some Sunday cleaning and you were now laying on the couch enjoying what was left of your weekend. You were happy that you were able to enjoy your free time now that things were slowing down at work. It was nearing the end of the school year and while you were ready for a break, you still felt bittersweet about it. You enjoyed your time at Abbott and you didn’t want it to come to an end.

As an aide, your job placement was unpredictable, so you weren't sure if you'd be working there next year. You went wherever you were needed, but if it were up to you, you would stay in Melissa Schemmenti’s class. You had grown close to the woman over the year, and that surprised you both. It took a while for you to build a solid relationship. Despite the fact that you weren't complete strangers — you frequently volunteered prior to becoming an aide — it still took you a while to warm up to each other's personalities. Once Melissa put her defenses down, you were able to see that you were quite fond of one another.

You attributed your closeness to the weekly dinners Melissa invited you to. This was something you two started earlier this year when Melissa found out you didn’t have family near you. You made a comment about how much you missed having home-cooked meals and Melissa couldn’t resist the offer. At first, she was hosting you out of the kindness of her heart. She believed everyone should enjoy a nice meal at least once a week. As time went on, she found that she actually enjoyed having you over. She loved your company, and you were always welcome in her home.

Tonight's dinner would be a change of pace because you were celebrating Melissa’s birthday. She originally didn’t want to have a birthday dinner, but her nana insisted, and Melissa could never say no to her. You speculated that Melissa wasn’t fond of big displays, but she definitely deserved to feel celebrated. She only agreed to it under one condition – the guest list had to be small. The attendees consisted of her nana, her mother, her sister, and to your surprise, you.

Earlier this week when you confirmed your plans, the conversation went a little something like this:

“Are you sure you want me to come?” You asked her one afternoon as you were cleaning up the classroom. You were met with an incredulous look. She was never one to conceal her facial expressions. “Of course I want you to come. It’s our Sunday dinner.” She leaned against her desk with her arms folded. “Yeah, Mel, but it’s also your birthday. If you just want to spend time with your family that’s okay with me.” You assured her. You didn't want her to feel obligated to have you over. That same look lingered on her face, but now there was a touch of disappointment. You could tell you stirred some feelings within her. You wondered what that was about, but you didn’t read too much into it. She she would tell you if she wanted to. “Well, I want you there, so you’re coming,” she said. "Okay, I'll be there." You nodded in confirmation.

And so, it was decided. You were attending Melissa’s birthday dinner.

You were taken from your thoughts when you felt the vibration of your phone. You looked at it to see that you received a text from Melissa. Your face scrunched in confusion as you read the messages.

SOS Call Me

Without hesitation, you picked the phone up and dialed her.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked once she answered.

“I don’t want to do this.” She said plainly.

“Don’t want to do what?” You asked even though you already had an idea.

She let out a huff at your question before saying, “The birthday dinner, Y/N. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

She was frustrated. You could tell from her tone of voice.

“Why not? What happened?” You asked calmly.

You knew Melissa lost patience quickly, and it was easy to get her in a bad mood. This was especially true if things weren’t going as planned.

“Kristen decided all of a sudden that she’s not coming, and now Nana’s upset.”

You could almost see her hands waving around in exasperation as she explained the current situation to you.

“Why isn’t she coming?” You asked, trying to gain a deeper understanding.

“I don’t know! Probably because she’s inconsiderate.” Melissa fussed. “It doesn't make a difference to me, but I'm upset because she promised Nana she would be here.”

“Well, that’s okay. We’ll still have a great time without her.” You tried to cheer her up, but you weren’t sure it worked.

“No, it’s not okay. Now Nana’s sad, but she’s gonna pretend she’s not for my sake.”

You could hear the dismay in Melissa’s voice. You knew she was hoping her sister would come, whether she admitted it or not.

“And my mom is about to drive me crazy because she’s making a big deal out of this whole thing.”

“Is she upset about Kristen too?”

“No, she knows how Kristen can be. She’s just making a big deal about this party. She wants to put up decorations and I just-” Melissa let out a disgruntled sigh instead of finishing her sentence.

“Do you need to me come over?” You asked, offering yourself without thinking twice. “Maybe I could give y'all a hand?”

“No, you’re the guest. You don’t have to do that,” Melissa said.

“I know, but I can if you need me to.” You assured her.

There was a pause before she answered.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” She conceded.

You weren’t expecting her to agree that easily, but you weren't gonna complain. You happily took the win.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon,” you said.

“I'll see you soon.”

And with that, you ended the call.

You got off the couch and headed to your room to get ready. As you put your clothes on, you started thinking about the situation at hand. You wondered why Kristen was no longer attending. Melissa didn’t mention anything about them falling out recently, but maybe something happened that you weren’t aware of. Either way, you felt bad that Melissa was stressed out on her birthday. That was the last emotion she should be experiencing.

As you prepared to leave your house, you stopped in your tracks as a thought hit you. You were about to meet Melissa’s family. Melissa Schemmenti trusted you enough to have you around the people she cared about the most. You suddenly felt nervous because you wanted to make a great first impression. You shook your head and took a deep breath, trying to tamp down the nerves that were building within you. You assured yourself that Melissa's family would be lovely and that you had nothing to worry about. With that thought, you grabbed Melissa’s gift and your keys before exiting your home.

✦ ✦ ✦

Around 15 minutes later, you pulled up to Melissa's house. After you parked your car, you gathered your belongings and walked up to the door. You rang the bell, then smoothed your clothes down to get rid of any wrinkles that may have formed on your journey over. When the door opened, you were met with the sight of an elderly woman. She was short and had red hair like Melissa’s, except hers stopped at her shoulders. She wore a pink pantsuit and she was adorned in gold jewelry. She almost made you feel underdressed, even though you'd picked out your finest outfit.

“Hello. Who are you?” The woman greeted. She had an Italian accent that you were pleased to hear.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m the teacher that works with Melissa.” You smiled at her.

“Oh, yes, Y/N.” She smiled back. “Come in, come in.” She waved her hand, beckoning you to join her in the home.

As you ventured inside, the smell of food filled your senses. Every time you came over, the house smelled divine, and you found so much comfort in that. Being at her home always brought up fond memories for you.

“Let me take your things.” The woman grabbed your belongings as well as Melissa’s gift before you could even protest.

The two of you then made your way into the living room to take a seat.

“I'm Melissa's nana, Teresa. I've heard so much about you.” The woman looked at you with twinkling eyes.

The expression held something you couldn’t place your finger on. She looked at you like she knew something you didn’t.

“Oh, really?” You asked, mainly out of surprise. "Hopefully all good things?"

“Yes, she speaks very highly of you.” Teresa enlightened you.

You didn't know Melissa talked to her family about you. Now, you were left wondering what tidbits of information she'd shared with them. You felt a smile creep onto your lips at the thought, but you stopped before it could fully manifest. You didn't want to think too much about it, so you decided to turn the conversation back to her.

“Whatever you’re making smells really good,” you complimented.

“Oh, I'm banned from the kitchen,” the woman laughed. “My daughter is using my recipes, though, so I guess a little credit goes to me.”

“I would say so,” you nodded in agreement.

Before you could engage in further conversation with her, you heard Melissa shout from across the house.

“Nana, did you get the door?” The Philly accent rang through the home.

“Stop yelling, Melissa. We have company.” The woman responded.

“Well, I called your name and you weren’t answering,” Melissa said as she walked into the living room.

“I was talking to my new friend. She thinks you should let me in the kitchen.” She eyed Melissa before looking to you. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Uh uh, don’t encourage her,” Melissa said, looking toward you. “Nana, I told you, you’re on decoration duty.”

“This one is so bossy.” She pointed at Melissa.

“Where do you think I get it from?” Melissa questioned her nana, placing her hands on her hips.

“How do you work with her?” Teresa looked at you in all seriousness.

Melissa rolled her eyes in your direction, so her nana didn’t see, and you laughed at their banter. Melissa walked over to you, and you stood from the couch to greet her.

“Hey, hon.” She said, before wrapping her arms around you.

“Hey, Mel.” You rubbed your hands along her back a few times before pulling away from the hug. “You feeling better?”

She put a finger up to her lips, signaling you to not say anything else.

“What’s wrong, cara? Are you not feeling well?” Her grandmother asked.

“I’m fine, Nana. I just had a headache.” Melissa fudged, looking at you with pleading eyes.

She didn't want her nana to know that she was having a rough day, and by the looks of it, you made a mistake by mentioning anything.

“I’m sorry,” you mouthed to her.

She shook her head, letting you know that it was okay.

You looked down and saw that you were still in your embrace. You weren’t hugging, but you were holding each other at arm's length. Her hands grasped onto your forearms and she held you in a steady position. You looked back up at her as you felt her fingers absentmindedly stroking your skin. She seemed to be unaware of what she was doing though.

“Did you take some medicine?” Teresa asked sincerely, oblivious to the moment (or so you thought).

That question snapped Melissa out of her thoughts and she stopped her movements. She looked at her grandmother and said, “Uh, yes, I did. It should kick in any minute now.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” The older woman asked.

“Nana, it's just a headache. I'm not dying.” Melissa laughed, trying to keep up her lie. “But thank you for being so concerned.”

Before her nana could ask anymore questions, Melissa turned back to you and said, “Let me introduce you to my mom.”

You walked into the kitchen with her and saw a woman hard at work at the stove. She had glasses sitting upon her head and it reminded you so much of Melissa.

“Hey, Ma,” Melissa said, capturing the woman’s attention.

“Melissa, I’m almost done. I just need to—,” She turned around, throwing a dish towel over her shoulders before looking directly at you. “Oh, you must be the famous, Y/N?”

“Ma,” Melissa said in a cautionary tone.

Clearly, you were popular in the Schemmenti world.

“What?” Her mother shrugged her shoulders before directing her attention back to you. “Hey, hon, I’m Maria. It’s nice to meet you.”

You could see where Melissa got her mannerisms from.

“Nice to meet you too, Maria.” You smiled.

A beep from the oven alerted everyone that something was done cooking.

“Alright, I’m all for talking and making conversation, but if you two don’t mind I’d like to have the kitchen back.” She opened the oven to check on its contents.

“No problem. I just wanted to introduce you. Let us know when you’re done, okay?” Melissa said.

"Okay. Now goodbye." Maria shooed the two of you away. You could tell it was playful, despite the delivery.

You giggled as you exited the space.

“What are you laughing at?” Melissa asked.

“She just reminds me of you.” You shared.

“What about her?” Melissa asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The things she says, the glasses. You kind of look like her too.”

“First of all, I look like Nana,” she stated. “But what did she say that reminds you of me?"

“Telling us to get out of the kitchen.” You smirked.

“I wouldn't say that." She said, mouth opening in shock.

“Yes, you would.” You said definitively.

“Well, I might. I wouldn’t say it to you, though.” She nudged you with your elbow.

“Mhmm, sure you wouldn't.” You side-eyed her.

“I wouldn't,” she said. “You know you're always welcome in my kitchen.”

“Yeah, until I burn your house down.” You joked.

“Well, yeah. Maybe then I'd have to ban you like Nana,” She chuckled.

She placed a hand on your back, guiding you to walk in front of her. “Come on. Let’s go put these decorations up.”

✦ ✦ ✦

By the time you were done decorating, Melissa was in a much better mood. The living room was filled with balloons, streamers, and banners. Teresa was the creative director, telling you where to place everything. You tasked Melissa with blowing up the balloons. You gave her the most menial job because it was her birthday after all. She technically should have been relaxing, but she wasn’t going to sit around and watch you and Nana do all the work.

You made your way over to Melissa as you watched her blow up the last balloon. You stood against the wall with her, taking in the transformation.

“So, what do you think?” You asked, extending your arm toward the center of the room.

“I think you and Nana are quite the decorators.” Melissa smiled at you.

It was a genuine smile, one that met her eyes, and you felt a swell of pride fill you at the site. Your goal of making her feel less stressed had been accomplished.

“Why, thank you,” you grinned. “I just have one final touch.”

You held a gold crown in your hand that said “Birthday Girl”, and you moved to place it on top of her head.

“There. Now you’re all set.” You fixed a couple pieces of her hair before stepping back to take in her appearance.

“Y/N,” she scoffed, reaching up to grab the object.

“No, leave it.” You reached for her wrist to bring it back down. “It looks good.”

“Y/N, come on.” She laughed, freeing her wrist from your hand.

“Leave it, Mel.” You requested again.

From the look on her face, you could tell she thought the crown was a childish touch. However, you thought it was fitting for the occasion.

“Please.” You looked at her with pleading eyes. “Wear it for me and Nana.”

“Fine,” she said.

You knew that would do the trick.

“I’m gonna go get dressed. Try not to add anything else while I’m gone.” With that, she went in the direction of the stairs.

Deep down, you knew she liked the extravagance even if she didn't say it.

✦ ✦ ✦

A few minutes after Melissa disappeared upstairs, Maria alerted everyone that the food was ready. You all gathered in the kitchen and set the table while engaging in small talk. Once the table was set, everyone sat down at the table and waited for Melissa to come back. Melissa's seat was at the head of the table. Maria sat in the chair that was to the left of Melissa's.

“Teresa, would you like to sit next to Melissa.”

“Yes, if you don't mind.” She nodded before taking the seat. “And please, call me Nana.” She laughed, inviting you to sit next to her.

That made you feel special. You could tell she liked you but Maria, on the other hand, was a little harder to read. You would have to interact with her a bit more to gauge her feelings.

Melissa came back quickly, and you were pleased to see she was still wearing the crown. She donned all black, wearing her favorite leather pants to give the outfit a dressy look.

“There she is.” You greeted her.

“Hey.” She smiled as she sat in her seat. Her eyes widened as she looked at all the food on the table. They were fixated on one dish in particular, though. “Ma, you made chicken marsala?”

“I did.” Maria nodded. “It’s still your favorite, right?”

“Yeah, it is.” A look of joy filled her face. “Thank you,” she said before getting up to hug her mom.

You watched the interaction with a smile. There was something different about her demeanor when she was around her family. She was more reserved than usual which was contradictory to her typical behavior. When it was just you around, she was far more bold and playful.

“No hug for me? I’m the one who put the menu together.” Nana asked, throwing her hands up in the air.

Everyone laughed as Melissa made her way around the table to give the woman a hug and a kiss on the cheek for good measure.

She sat back down and you all enjoyed your meals after Nana said a blessing over the table.

Maria was the first to start the conversation back up. “So, Y/N, how's the school year been for you.”

“Oh, it’s been wonderful. I love working with Melissa.” You looked toward the redhead, “She’s really great.”

“Yeah?” Her mom raised an eyebrow as she lifted her fork into her mouth.

“Yeah, she’s a great teacher and I’ve learned so much from her.” You said honestly.

Maria and Nana made eye contact after you made your statement. You watched as Melissa’s eyes followed theirs.

“Don’t do all the bragging on her,” Maria said. “We hear you’re very hardworking too.”

“Oh, well, I try my best.” You smiled timidly.

“Don’t be coy. Balancing school and work must not be easy, huh?” Nana asked.

You averted your eyes to Melissa at the mention of your enrollment in school. Melissa had her gaze on her nana, but you knew she could see you looking at her. In that moment you realized just how much Melissa talked about you to her family. Being in school and working at Abbott was a huge challenge for you. You were working toward a higher degree so you could take a step up from your position as an aide. It was something that took a lot out of you, but Melissa made it a little easier. She was very understanding when your lesson plans weren’t your best, or when you were late on grading.

“It definitely has its ups and downs, but I think I manage okay.” You said to Nana. “I have to give credit to Melissa, though. You both must be very proud of her for handling two classes so well.”

“We’re very proud. I know that job’s not easy,” Maria said. “But she has a good head on her shoulders.” She pointed at Melissa. “And from what I’ve heard, you do too.”

“Thank you,” you took the compliment, having a feeling she didn’t give those out freely.

Nana placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “You keep doing what you’re doing. You’ll be just like our Melissa one day.”

For some reason, you felt yourself getting emotional at the comment. You grabbed her hand, squeezing it to express some of your gratitude. “That’s very kind of you to say.”

The conversation continued and Melissa was soon the topic of discussion. You enjoyed the rest of your food, chiming in here and there, as the family talked amongst themselves. When you were done eating, you excused yourself from the table.

“You need something, hon?” Melissa asked, not missing a beat.

“No, I’m good.” You assured her. “I’ll be right back. Finish your food.” You reassured her before exiting the room.

✦ ✦ ✦

After the conversation died down, and once she was sure you were gone, Melissa asked her burning question. “Why were you two looking at each other like that earlier?”

“Like what?” Nana said.

“Nana, you were the ringleader, so don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Melissa said.

The pair made knowing eye contact again and Melissa was even more confused this time around.

“You just did it again! What’s going on?”

“We could ask you the same thing.” Maria retorted. “'Oh, Melissa is just so wonderful. She’s so smart and amazing.'”

Melissa watched as her mother did her best impression of you, over-exaggerating your voice and mannerisms.

“'I just love working with her sooo much.'” Nana laughed and joined in on the fun.

Melissa looked back at them with a blank look on her face. She was missing the joke. “Okay, I don’t get it.” Melissa laughed even though she was confused.

“Oh, come on, Melissa.” Her mom said dryly.

“What, Ma?” Her face the picture of bewilderment.

“You're telling me you're not together?” Maria raised a brow.

“What?” Melissa said in pure shock. If she was sipping on her drink, she surely would have choked. “You think we're together?!”

“You're not?” Nana asked, almost sounding just as shocked as Melissa.

“No!”

“Seriously?” Maria's voice going up in pitch, disbelief evident in her tone.

“No, mom!” Melissa shrieked.

“You may not be together, but she clearly likes you.” Maria said, as if it were a fact.

“No, she doesn't.” Melissa shook her head.

“Yes, she does,” Nana chimed in. “And I think you like her too.”

Melissa let out a loud laugh at that. “Okay, I’m officially worried about you two.”

“You’re the one making it obvious.” Her mom shrugged. “I saw your moment in the living room.”

“What are you talking about?” Melissa laughed some more. She couldn’t help herself, the situation was comedic.

“When she gave you your little crown.” Her mom motioned toward the top of her head.

“Mhmm. I may be old, but I'm not crazy.” Nana added to the conversation. “I saw the way you looked at each other earlier. When you were telling me about your headache.”

“Okay, I'm not sure what you saw, but we’re friends. More importantly, we're coworkers,” Melissa explained to the women.

“Love doesn't discriminate.” Her mom said.

“Okay, stop. I’m not talking about this anymore.” Melissa drew the line at that.

“Sweetheart, that was just a joke.” Her mom laughed, but she could see the effect it had on her daughter.

“Well stop ‘joking’ before Y/N hears you,” Melissa said.

It was as if you were summoned by the mention of your name, because you walked back into the room less than a minute later. You glanced around the table and saw a sour-looking Melissa.

“What’d I miss?” You asked.

“Nothing,” Melissa said.

“Just the fact that Melissa can’t take a joke.” Her mom informed you.

They spoke at the same time and you looked back over to the Melissa.

“Ma, please!” Melissa scolded her mom.

“Must have been some joke.” You said.

“I’m sure she’ll tell you about it later,” her mom winked at you.

You looked at her with a puzzled expression, but decided to leave it at that.

✦ ✦ ✦

You continued the night by singing happy birthday and eating cake until you were content. After that, it was time to open presents. Melissa wasn’t expecting to receive anything, but to her surprise, everyone came bearing gifts. Her nana gifted her a necklace to add to her expansive collection, her mom got her a book she’d been wanting to read for a while, and you gave her a bottle of wine she’d been dying to try. Before you knew it, the night was nearing an end. You were having such a good time that you didn’t realize it was half past 9. Her family kept you engaged and they were very entertaining.

You were currently helping Maria wash dishes while Nana told you stories. You found yourself laughing at all the things she shared about Melissa in her younger days.

“Hey, Ma, can I borrow your little helper for a second?” Melissa asked.

“Sure.” Her mom nodded. “Don’t let me keep you. I’ll finish these.” She said when you hesitated.

You walked out of the kitchen and followed Melissa into the living room.

“What’s up?” You sat down next to her on the couch.

“Thanks for coming,” she expressed graciously. “And thank you for the wine.”

“Of course, Melissa. I wouldn’t have missed it.” You smiled. “You brought me out here to thank me?”

She laughed, “No, no. That’s not why, no.”

You didn’t miss the way she was fumbling over her words. From that alone, you could tell something was bothering her. She was also avoiding eye contact which was unlike her. She had something to tell you, and she was trying to be subtle. However, she wasn't doing a good job – at all.

“Then what’s wrong?” You asked, preparing yourself to hear the worst for some reason.

“Nothing’s wrong, hon.” She looked up at you.

“Okay, so why are we out here? Your nana was in the middle of a very compelling story.”

“About me I assume.” She leaned back into the couch making herself more comfortable.

“About you and Kristen Marie, yes. How you used to fight over who got to lick the cake batter off the spoon.” You giggled as you imagined a young Melissa.

“I always thought I should get it 'cause I was the oldest.” She smiled at the memory.

You rested your head on her shoulder as she continued the tale.

“Nana told me I was being selfish for not sharing. And I cried like a baby because I didn’t want anyone to think I was selfish.”

“You just wanted your older sibling rights to be enacted.” You concurred.

“See, you understand.” She rested her chin on top of your head.

You sat in silence for a minute, just enjoying each other's company. You busied your mind by listening to the sound of running water and the clattering of dishes coming from the kitchen. It wasn't long before your mind began to wander again.

“Why are we out here, Mel?” You asked again, moving your head so you could look up at her.

She laughed and you figured it was at your relentless behavior. If there was one thing about you, you would keep going at a problem until you found an answer. You didn't give up easily. That was something Melissa liked about you.

“I just–,” She gazed at you. “My mom said something earlier and it got me thinking.”

“What’d she say?” You gave her your full attention, looking at her with all the curiosity in the world.

With you looking at her like that, it was the only time she found herself at a loss for words. You had to be staring at each other for a couple minutes with no words being exchanged.

“Melissa,” you urged, trying to regain her attention.

She appeared to be zoning out, but you failed to realize that you actually had all her focus. That was the problem – too many thoughts of you were taking over her brain. She knew what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t transfer those thoughts to her mouth.

“I’m trying to tell you, hon.” She sighed. “I just don’t know how.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“I don’t want to offend you or make things weird between us. But if I don’t ask, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop thinking about it.”

“Okay, so tell me.” You felt your stomach flip with anticipation.

“They think we’re together.” She bit her lip, bracing herself for your reaction.

Your eyes widened. “Like, together together?”

“Yeah,” she nodded slowly. “Like dating.”

“Huh,” You sighed, slumping into the couch.

“What do you mean ‘huh’?” She asked, eyebrows crinkling in confusion.

“I mean, that's... something.” You looked toward her, a natural expression on your face. You honestly weren't sure how to react.

“Okay, um, a little bit of an underwhelming response.” She laughed before placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well, shit, Melissa! You gotta give me a second.” You laughed along with her. “What do you have to say about it?” You asked.

“I-I don’t know.” She shrugged, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her thighs.

You knew that was a lie. She always had something to say. Plus, she wouldn't have commented on your lack of response if she didn't have one herself.

You tilted your head to the side and gave her a look that you thought would make her give up the act. When she didn't budge, you decided to ask her straight up.

“Melissa, do you like me?” You asked.

Her mouth gaped open at the blunt nature of your question. “I don’t know, Y/N. I–” She tried to explain, but you cut her off.

She knew. What she didn't know was if she could actually admit it.

You thought it would be a good idea to give her some encouragement. “Tell me the truth, Melissa. I just want you to be honest with me.”

At that, she seemed to kick into gear. “I like teaching with you. I like talking to you. I like cooking you dinner.” She trailed off for a second before speaking again. “I like making you laugh. I like being around you.”

With her last sentence, you could see the shift in her demeanor. It was like a lightbulb went off. She didn't even realize how she felt until she said it out loud.

“I like being around you too, Melissa.” It was now your turn to be truthful with her. “I like the thought of coming into work every morning ‘cause I know you’ll be there. I like eating the dinner you cook for me. I like talking to you and laughing at the jokes you make.”

“I really like you, Y/N.” She said finally, coming to her senses.

“I really like you, too, Melissa.” You bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to hide your smile. It was no use though because the expression fought its way onto your face.

You watched as she closed her eyes, trying to process everything you just said. You grabbed her hand after a moment, causing her eyes to flutter open.

“I wasn't expecting this to happen today.” She said, talking more to herself than to you.

“Are you sure it wasn't your birthday wish?” You teased as she focused her attention on you.

“Shut up.” She nudged your shoulder with the hand that wasn't occupied by yours.

“So... now what?” You inquired, still smiling like an idiot. You felt like a teenager, but you couldn't help it.

“I was thinking I could take you out on a date.” She smirked. “Would you like that?”

“I would love that.” You beamed.

“Perfect.” She gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “We'll figure out the details later, okay?”

“Sounds good.” You nodded.

“Alright, let's go back in there before they start to get suspicious.”

She moved to stand, but you tugged on her hand to stop her. She looked at you, sage eyes gleaming despite the low lighting of the living room. In that moment, you were overwhelmed with the urge to kiss her.

You threaded your fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her close. You admired her facial features before making your move. You could see every freckle on her cheeks, and every line that adorned her face. From this angle, she was breathtaking.

You planned on kissing her, but she was eager to close the gap between you. Her lips claimed yours in a delicate manner. One, two, three pecks before her tongue grazed your bottom lip. You opened your mouth and allowed her tongue to slide against yours. You could taste the tangy sweetness from the remnants of the lemon cake she ate earlier. You hummed as she placed a final kiss to your lips. You pulled away and took several breaths to recenter yourself.

“I knew we weren't crazy.” A voice said from the distance.

You gasped and whipped your head over your shoulder, looking at the entrance to the kitchen. You didn't see anyone, but you knew you weren't hearing things. You looked back toward the Melissa for confirmation.

She rolled her eyes and stood from her seat. You may have been too stunned to speak, but she wasn't. “Are you two eavesdropping?!”

Your theory was confirmed when you heard footsteps scurrying along the tile floor.

She sat back down and gave you a sympathetic look. “Sorry about that.”

"It's okay,” you laughed, trying not to be mortified by the fact that they may or may not have seen the kiss. "They're quite the pair.”

“You can say that again.” She shook her head. “Hopefully they don't scare you away.”

“It's gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of me.” You stated firmly.

“Good to know.” She said, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Happy birthday, Melissa.” You said finally before leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“Thanks, hon.” She smiled, a blush rising to her face. “You gave me quite the gift.”

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #sugarᥫ᭡writes

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kiwiana-writes · 29 days

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Kiwiana's Subscriber Shindig

I hit an absolutely wild (to me, anyway) AO3 subscriber milestone overnight, and after lying on the floor for a while about it, I want to CELEBRATE with a ficlet fest for all y'all who are so kind and supportive and just fucking awesome.

So! Feel free to send me:

A location: I absolutely encourage you to go buckwild here, because y'all know I love a challenge. You can also include a (vague) time period as well as a location if you want to, but you absolutely do not have to. (And there's no guarantee that if you don't send a time period it will be modern-day!)

A ship or focus character of your choice

Your username on AO3, if it differs from your tumblr username, so I can gift it to you there once it's written!

A maximum rating if you're not happy for it to go to E. I'm not saying all of them will, but... well, y'all know me, it's always a risk. So if you wouldn't want to read something E-rated, let me know what the highest rating you'd be happy with is.

And in return you get... a ficlet. Honestly, could be anywhere from 300 to 3000 words, depending on where the mood so takes me. 1-3 are required, though; I need something more than "IDK whatever you feel like" (that's what my normal WIP list is for 😅)

Important note the first: the idea here is a jumping-off point rather than a detailed prompt. So something like "FirstPrince at the barbershop" is awesome! "FirstPrince meet-cute at the barbershop where Alex accidentally comes onto Henry and then they hook up" is more detailed than I'm looking for for these (also I already wrote that one, so it'd be a waste of your time.)

Important note the second: if you're submitting your request on anon, you will still need to give me an AO3 username, please—I can only accept one submission per person, to keep it fair and ensure that I can in fact still write other stuff as well. If you don't have an AO3 account, I still have a few kicking around which will get you signed up faster than the current waitlist: you'll just need to DM me your email address :)

Slide on into my ask box with your request! Requests will be open until April 30th 11:59pm UTC and I'll start filling once requests are closed. REQUESTS ARE NOW CLOSED! Thanks, y'all; I can't wait to start writing these.

Love y'all, thanks for being awesome and really forcing me to confront my imposter syndrome lmao ❤️

#subscriber shindig #kiwiana-writes

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bugeater101 · 1 year

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Stop Hitting Yourself

Synopsis: After four years of high school, you were sick and tired of Yang Jeongin. However, your inexperience with relationships combined with his persistence have you questioning your feelings towards him. Now, in the final stretch of your secondary education, you've somehow been paired up with that brute in a project. Yet, your study plans in the library take a different turn when you let your curiosity (and his perseverance) get the better of you.

Content: bully!Jeongin x nerd!fem!reader, plus size!reader, virgin!innocent!reader (doesn't know anything besides basic biology), dom!Jeongin, big dick!Jeongin, Jeongin is a dumbass (also oscillates between like cold bad boy and golden retriever boy), hand kink, reader has small hands, Jeongin has huge hands (duh), enemies to lovers, school AU, the reader is a bit insecure and endures a lot of bullying by Jeongin (teasing, mocking, comments related to glasses, no other negative comments related to appearance), mentions of smoking, 0-100 kind of plot, groping, spanking, pain kink, oral sex (male!receiving), crying, degradation, slight size kink, public sex, unprotected sex (please where a condom!!), mentions of breeding, vaginal penetrative sex, a hella cute epilogue.

Word Count: ~16.9 k (I AM SO SORRY)

Author's Notes: This fic is for my lovely and patient followers and hte amazing anon who sent in this request! Also, even though this AU takes place in a high school setting, please note that both Jeongin and the reader are 18+ in this fic. Minors, do not interact! This work also follows a lot of stereotypes about like "nerds" and "bullies" but bear with me y'all. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation, trussss that it is not because the bully is harbouring some crush on you. This fic uses such dynamics to simply build towards the smut and power dynamics. To quote Tyler the Creator, "Hey, don't do anything I'm about to say." Also, I would eventually love to do another and much shorter part two, but that is an idea for another time. Thank y'all as always!

Taglist: @scribblemetae @mygsis, @9900z @taekbokki,@imtoooyoungforthisshit, @jihanlovic, @compersian

You had three goals once you entered high school: get good grades, stay out of trouble, and try to have fun.

Yang Jeongin, however, seemed hell-bent on destroying any semblance of peace in your life. In fact, you bet that his whole schedule was dedicated to manifesting your misery. Or, possibly, he just brought torment with him wherever he went.

Nevertheless, it was accurate to claim that his purpose (in your perception) was to make you miserable. For the past school year, you had seen more of Jeongin than you ever wished to: your schedules put him in at least two classes with you every semester for four years and you also lived relatively close to one another. So, your encounters were frequent, expected, and... "memorable", to say the least.

Every day since freshman orientation, you have been forced to acknowledge Jeongin's existence on a daily basis. Almost immediately, he adopted a particularly cruel stance toward you. When it all first started, his taunts were just for fun and to seek attention, to say the least. Now, he just seemed mean. Not to anyone in particular: Jeongin was just a generally disagreeable person, and especially to you. And it hurt.

Obviously, it hurt, who would not be hurt if they found themselves in such circumstances?

It was embarrassing to admit it, but Jeongin's indifference toward you was often offset by your more "cordial" feelings toward him. Actual motherfucking cordial feelings. In other words, you had harboured a small, tiny, minuscule, microscopic crush on him that even his meanest days could not challenge. So, you've had a crush on Jeongin since you first met him and it has been the dumbest thing you've ever done.

You remember when you first saw him. It was orientation for high school, the first day of the semester. You were a freshman and he was too. However, your appearance alone separated you and him into two distinct social categories. Like the delinquents that were his so-called friends, he wore his uniform messily: tie loose, shirt untucked, sneakers, and messy hair. Everything he did was with an insufferable air of nonchalance and disrespect, almost aggressive in the languid, lazy movements he made. Even his walk reeked of a cockiness that altered the milieu of the room. You couldn't believe how intolerable he was, nor could you believe how your cheeks flushed at the mere sight of him. High cheekbones, a fox-like face, slender build but definitely on the muscular side. God, not to mention he was big. He was tall, at least taller than the other boys in your grade. His height alone made him stick out like a sore thumb, not to mention his clothing. He had immediately caught your eye and it made you sick.

And then there was you: you were just as out of place as he was, but for entirely different reasons. Your hair was proper, your glasses were well polished, and your uniform was always ironed. Of course, the uniform rarely fit properly as you were bigger. The shirt never buttoned right and the skirt was too short in the back, making you feel much more out of place than you would have liked. Other than your rather ill-fitting uniform, your propriety and intelligence made you the odd one out. You contrasted much of the student population in those respects, especially Yang Jeongin.

For lack of a better word, you were a fucking loser. And so was Jeongin. But at least he owned it. Maybe that was what you liked about him, that he knew he wasn't much and didn't have to prove himself through school or other activities. Either that or how fucking attractive his jawline was or his messy hair.

Jeongin and his friends managed to sit somewhat near you during orientation. He couldn't see you from his position, but you could see him. His confident stare, the flirtatious grin he flashed, and the troublesome giddiness in his eyes would normally make you well annoyed. But, with him, it was somehow different, like he wasn't just another stupid boy you couldn't wait to ignore and forget. God. It was like some trope where he was the bad boy and you were some know-it-all who was desperate for some freedom, which he could offer you.

The entire assembly went over your head as your eyes transfixed on the boy who sat in front of you with his giggling gaggle of friends and troublemakers. You swore he thought he was one of the cutest boys you'd ever seen.

That all quickly changed once you got to know him.

You only had two classes with him that year but they were unforgettable due to the sheer torture he put you through. He would tease you, take your notes, copy off of your tests, and sometimes right his name on your homework (and he would still manage to get shitty grades). Needless to say, your fondness for him obviously and quickly diminished.

Yet, you still knew that those feelings hadn't entirely disappeared. They were still there, just somewhere deep down. However, some nights, those feelings were quite shallow and you didn't need to search so deeply to find them, as if you could reach out and touch them with ease. It happened late at night and only in the shroud of darkness. Your head would either be too busy or too slow, as if the overbearing presence of thoughts or their complete absence somehow created a tunnel to your most shameful yet needful desires. Though you wouldn't like to admit it, at these moments you find yourself pining for him. And then you feel those feelings, the ones that you don't really understand but you're too embarrassed to even type the words into the search bar and figure out what's going on so you just deal with them. And then you spend the night lying in your bed, tossing and turning to your memories of Jeongin, wondering what he would be like if he were here with you now.

Fuck. You need a boyfriend, or to at least get laid.

Yeah. You're inexperienced, but you know the basics. At least, you think you do. When it comes to Jeongin, all logic gets thrown out the window. You often find yourself wondering what you actually want to do with him: to kill him or… God, you couldn’t even think of the filthy things you wanted him to do to you. Maybe it was because you were too embarrassed to think such things, or maybe it was because you truly didn’t know what to think. Despite acing AP biology and understanding how everything physiologically works, your lack of experience has made you rather ill-equipped when it comes to anything romantic or "alleviating" those feelings you have when you think about Jeongin. Either way, your mind was blank when it came to him, especially those feelings that make you toss and turn and pray that weird giddy feeling goes away.

Now, after four years, you can practically taste your liberation from him. However, it's becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his teases. Not only is he becoming more annoying by the second, but it also seems like he is just getting fucking hotter. Especially when he magically starts paying attention in class and you finally have a chance to stare at him uninhibited, as if being free from his constant attention finally gives you a chance to admire him. It looks like you are staring off into space, but really you are studying him. His pretty face, how good he would look if he cleaned himself up a bit more, or even admitting to yourself how good he looks all scruffy. You would study his body, how slender he is, how you want to feed him good desserts, how you think he would be the type of boyfriend to never resist eating his partner's food. Then you would acknowledge how he keeps his nail beds clean. How nice his hands are, overall. How nice they would be to hold. How big they are, how veiny... how that insinuates he is big and veiny in other places.

...Okay, so you weren't completely out of the dating sphere. You were naive, but you knew how everything worked. However, you also knew that there was more than just strange feelings and vaginal penetration and orgasms and pregnancy and yada yada yada: there was more beyond sex than just sex. But, of course, you never worked up the courage to simply type lewd searches into Google or bother to ask any of your friends about it. Except for the hand thing, which is just that: a hand thing. A thing you have for hands, Jeognin’s hands, and yeah. Just a hand thing. Nothing else. Yeah.

Anyways, you remained—more or less—in the dark about sex. Though you would like to know more, you know that you've only felt certain feelings towards Jeongin, and only him, of all people. For any logical person, it is better to bury those feelings deep inside than let yourself accept that they are awoken by a ghastly man who cares little for you or your well-being.

You'd rather stick to your studies, anyways.

Today, however, was a particularly irritating day. Normally, Jeongin enjoyed following you around, jeering rude chants at you with his friends (your favourite was the classic and unoriginal "Hey four-eyes!" followed by a chorus of giggles), or trying to wrap his arm around you as you walked down the hall. Every time, you brushed him off. However, Jeongin's irritability was off the charts since he decided that today was the day to dress in a particularly irritating fashion. He had completely disregarded his school uniform altogether. Why did this of all things make you mad, exactly? Because he looked fucking amazing.

Wrinkled white shirt. Loose tie. And sweatpants. Not just any sweatpants, but grey sweatpants. God, it was like he was trying to annoy you. How could he look so good while wearing something so informal? He was borderline infuriating in his presence alone, now you had to cope with how his sweatpants left little to the imagination. Though you wished that someone would put a stop to this reign of terror, you knew that the school administration had completely given up trying to control him at this point. This institution had become Jeongin's domain and you were intended to suffer through it as well as your rage-based attraction to him. Nevertheless, you pushed those feelings below your impermeable layer of school-related anxiety and ignored them. You found this trick especially useful to you when he was your lab partner in chemistry last year. It is an especially useful tool now considering you were seated across from him.

While you tried to keep your eyes focused on the board in front of you and not on the hunk of the man to your left, the task immediately became easier once your teacher announced the first big project of the semester.

"This project will weigh at around 20% of your grade and will replace this module's exam." Sighs of relief passed through the class in waves, the whole class happy to know that they just have to make a powerpoint rather than study all night for a written test that they would likely fail. Peace, however, was momentary.

"However,” your teacher continued, “since this project is a large amount of work, it will be done in groups of two." You gave a quick smile to your friend and desk partner to your right, who smiled back.

"The groups, however, have been randomly assigned." Your faces both dropped. Actually, everyone stopped smiling. Then, waves of groans moved through the class.

"Stop complaining," the teacher sighed, rubbing her eyes. "To create a conducive learning environment that limits your amount of fun, I randomly assigned each of you to someone in the class who you likely do not talk to. I will post the partners at the end of class and I suggest that you start working on the project ASAP and throughout the weekend because it's due in a week." Another wave of groans rolled through the class and was immediately followed by complaints, questions, exasperated sighs, and a particularly harsh exhale from you. You hated assigned group projects. Due to your reputation, you were usually expected to carry the project along with whoever you were assigned. You never really minded the work as long as you got to choose your partner. Essentially, if the partner was your friend, you would happily and easily do all the work. But now that the teacher has “randomly selected” your partners (she surely just put them through a random assigning program), you felt your blood boil. Jeongin, however, was surely silently rejoicing at the announcement of a group-based project: it meant that he could coast by like he normally did in group projects.

The rest of the class drudged on with great exhaustion. Everyone loathed the prospect of seeing who they were paired up with at the end of it. The worst thing was that it was the Friday of a long weekend. School was meant to be the last thing on anyone's mind until Tuesday came around. You all should have been blessed with the freedom of three days off and whatever it entailed: drinking, parties, staying out late, suspicious excuses given to your guardians, small friend groups loitering at the park at night, getting high then going to the 7/11, and hangovers that you thought were terrible but would seem like small headaches when you're 22 and trying to keep up with college-level drinking. This was what the weekend was for. However, this teacher obviously loved to ruin everyone's time and force them to study and work on this project.

With the final bell, the teacher headed out first followed by a mass of same-dressed students who were eager to see the possible stranger that they would be paired with. Jeongin left first, keen to leave but also being able to leave easily as he had brought nothing to class. After a few minutes, you and your friend followed behind the crowd, watching the mass of students as they shoved to look at the list of partners on the corkboard. Some sulked away, others jeered as they had been blessed with the partnership of a friend. Jeongin was one of the first to walk away, smiling smugly and playfully shoving his friend as they sat idly by, waiting for their partners to come to them.

After a few minutes of struggle, you and your friend finally made your way to the list.

"Who'd you get?" You ask as she studies the list first.

"That kid that sits behind us," she says.

"Oh, that's good! His name is Seungmin, he’s sweet."

"Yeah, but..." her voice trailed off.

"But... what?" You inquired, her voice making you uneasy.

"You're gonna... your partner... just, see for yourself." She steps out of the way as your finger traces down the list to find your name.

And there it is. Next to your partners. And, frankly, you can do nothing but slowly turn and look at Jeongin leaning against the lockers behind you.

He gives you a small smile and raises his eyebrows.

"We'll meet at 5 in the library! I'll see you then!" He states with a twisted grin. With those few words said, he and his friend saunter off, leaving you dumbstruck with your friend praying for your well-being beside you.

“Y/n,” she asked with a soft touch to your arm, “are you okay?” You gave a stiff nod as you watched Jeongin walk away.

God. Those fucking grey sweatpants look so good on him.

---

"You're lucky that you know the librarian well enough that we can be left alone here," Jeongin teased, looking up at the high ceilings and clearly impressed by them. His arms hung low as he carried the stack of books he had slowly accumulated in his arms. Well, you place them in his arms, he just took them because he didn’t really know what to look for or how to study or what this class was even about.

You guessed by his expression (and from your past four years of being his victim) that Jeonging had probably never even set foot in the library. In fact, he had little to no intention of doing so for his whole high school career. Yet, thanks to you, here he was.

"I don't 'know the librarian,'" you groaned. "I volunteer here. Some of us need extracurriculars on our university applications. I just have the privilege of going here enough that I get an extra key to help lock up." You placed the book you were carrying on the wooden table and Jeonin copied your action, dropping the stack of texts with a sigh.

“In other words,” Jeongin taunted, “you know the librarian well enough to come here after hours”. You shot him a look before turning to the mess of textbooks and binders in front of you.

"We wouldn't be alone after-hours if we had just started immediately after class," you stated angrily as you sorted the books into piles for you and him. "But somebody had to go smoke with his friends outside, so now we've had to come after hours to study."

"Just know that it was a really good smoke break," Jeongin replied with glee as you divided up his and your reading materials, placing the books with a hidden rage that only came from years of bullying or sexual frustration. Or, in your case, a horrid cocktail of both. After you were done, you took a seat on one side of the table and gestured for him to sit opposite you. He got the hint and sat, immediately flipping through his books and shuffling them around, not even trying to look busy.

"All I know is that we're here, alone, with no one else around and that I could trash this place if I wanted,” he continued with an air of cockiness you wanted to destroy.

At this point, you were really starting to regret everything that has ever happened to you. Sure, having a key to the school's immense library was a bonus of being a diligent student: you knew you could always escape here and it was entrusted in your care. Many times you had retreated to this place in the hopes of peace and quiet from the troubles of school. It was your sanctuary.

Now, an early library closing, a nicotine addiction, and a late study session had forced you to bring him here.

"I know you won't do that,” you shot back, “and I also know that I could just lock you in here if I wanted for the whole weekend.” Your response made his eyes go wide with what seemed to be shock and worry. However, when a smile broke out on his face, you knew that he thought your threats were empty.

"You're fun!" He cheered.

"I will lock you in here, Jeongin." You restated in a serious tone which he didn't seem to take as seriously. "Now,” you continued, “get started on studying. We have a lot to do and I have no intention of doing it alone. You need to look through the blue book. Read sections 2 to 4 and take notes on anything related to the assignment. Check the study questions, too: there could be info in the answers that could help us out."

"I hate that you're making me work," he complained in an obnoxious tone that could only be embodied by a teenage boy who had never been put in his place. "Normally I do nothing and the person just lugs me along."

"Well, I'm tired of carrying group projects, so you have to carry your own weight," you sighed. "Now. Start studying."

Jeongin gave you an eye roll before quietly retreating to his book. The silence quickly engulfed the library and you flipped through your book, looking at where to begin and fearing how much you had to tackle.

Although this was a less-than-ideal situation, it did have its perks. To be honest, you never knew Jeongin could be quiet. It was nice to take quick glances at him while he studied, his face contorted as he analyzed the text and focused on his work. Just these few moments of silence seemed to give you hope. Maybe you could make the best of a bad situation. Maybe you could use this time to make Jeongin shut up for a few seconds and let you study his handsome face before being rudely disrupted by whatever dribble he decided to shoot out. Maybe this partnering was a blessing in disguise.

Your hopes were ruined as the silence was broken.

"God!" Jeongin groaned, leaning far back in his chair. "This is so borringgggggg!" Your annoyance immediately returned to your body. He was hot, but god did he like to pester you.

"Please, Jeongin, read the passages, I beg of you," you groaned as you looked through the books to find out the sections you were meant to study.

"Ughhhh..." he sighed. Suddenly, he loudly arose, chair screeching back as he picked up his books.

"What are you doing?" You asked, annoyed and barely looking up from the books you were still sorting through.

"I'm moving next to you," he responded as he waddled towards you, moving like a child who was purposefully aggravating a parent just for the fun of it.

"Please, God, tell me why," you groaned.

"Because I'm lost!" He sighed, "I'm gonna sit by you because I hate being this far away and this lost at the same time. You have to help me Y/N if you're gonna make me carry my weight on this project."

As he slid himself and his books beside you, you prayed to every God you knew of—Jesus, Demeter, Allah, YHWH—that you would be vaporized then and there.

There was no escaping this irritation. Normally, you'd parry any advancements Jeongin made. Oftentimes, you would even take a different path home or avoid certain wings of the school altogether just to get away from him. To be clear, Jeongin didn’t actually frighten you. You weren't scared of Jeongin, you were just horribly, dreadfully annoyed with him.

However, today was not a normal situation. There was no avoiding him: you were stuck with this fucking idiot on a group project with no hope of deflecting his pokes or prods.

"Oh, wait, before you start reading you should fix your glasses. They’re falling." He mumbles, "lemme… lemme just..." he then placed his pointer fingers on the center of your lens and pushed them up, readjusting the frames but dirtying your eyesight in the process. You shot him an angry look as he giggled, hating the smudge on the glass.

"If you must know," you seethed as you wiped your glasses off and placed them beside you, "I never wear them to read and study—two activities I still hope to do, despite your presence."

"Ah!" Jeongin dramatically fell back on his chair and grasped his heart as if he had just been shot straight through it. "Words hurt, y/n! I can't believe you would say such things to me! How dare you suggest I distract you!" He cried with a great fabricated sentiment.

Again, you rolled your eyes at his giggles and flirtatious fucking smile that made him look so damn dreamy that it made you want to punch a wall.

"Jeongin, please let me get back to studying."

"Call me 'Innie,'" he responded coolly.

You let a beat pass as you tried to process what he just said.

"...What?!" You hissed at him. That certainly got your attention.

"Call... me... 'Innie.'" His smile widened and he leaned forward, his face inches from yours and moving closer as he enunciated each syllable with mischief.

Part of you wanted to push him away. You wanted to leave the library, march straight home, and write a strongly worded email to your teacher telling her that, despite her requirements, you desperately wanted to complete the assignment by yourself.

The other part of yourself, however...

Shamefully, that part wanted him to lean in closer. It enjoyed his playful smile and tone, and thought about how wonderful it was that you two were together, alone, uninterrupted. It thought about all you could do behind closed doors. It thought about things that made you anxious and confused and, frankly, made you want to turn your brain off.

So, you agreed with the former part.

"Jeongin," you stressed, leaning back. "Please go back to studying. I don't have time to play your silly name games." His exaggerated groan to your response almost made you crack a smile. Almost.

"Come onnnnnn, Y/n!" He wailed, voice echoing throughout the archives. "You don't even have to say it in public! Please! Only once!" Suddenly, he leaned in again and his face was now mere centimetres from yours. His voice was hushed and his eyes had a strange look in them, something that was serious and tempting. It seemed like he was trying to be playfully urgent in his words, but his voice made each syllable come across as languid, as if he were edging you on, almost daring you to obey him.

"Just say it to me. Now, in private,” he pleaded.

Uh oh. That part of your brain that you tried to ignore was coming at you with a vengeance. You hardly noticed that your cheeks were starting to burn. Gathering all control, you tried to put an end to this foolishness.

"We won't ever be alone together after next week,” you replied calmly.

"What... what makes you say that?" He asked with a discouraged curiosity.

"Well... I can't imagine you'd want to hang out after this... after all..." you trailed off.

"After all...? What?" He continued, "After all 'I'm the smartest person in the district and intend to graduate top of the class so I don’t have time to hang out and do scumbag shit with my bestie Innie?"

Okay. Maybe Jeongin actually could humour you. After all, that impression is spot on. The blush on your cheeks had cooled now, but you had not noticed: your mind was too busy malfunctioning over the fact that you were smiling at something Yang Jeongin said to you. Jeongin had genuinely brought a smile to your face, and he seemed to notice, too.

"Woah! There's your smile!" Jeongin jeered, "I've been trying to get you to smile for like three or four years! 'Bout time!"

And just like that, your smile had disappeared without a trace. Your facial muscles even relaxed immediately, feeling no lingering strain from the act. How dare a fucking man tell you to smile, and to try and say that he has been wanting you to do so for four fucking years after bullying you for those same four goddamn years?! You felt like your chest would explode.

"What?! Where did it go?!" Jeongin whined, defeated and pouty because of it. "Pleeasseeeeeee smile again, y/n! You look so adorable when you do! I mean, you always do, but your smile! And I know you need your glasses and you look so cute with them, but I can finally see your whole face without them! Come oonnnnnnnnnn! Smileeeeeeee!!!"

Woah. Okay. Those words had sent that stupid, gullible, optimistic part of your brain into a frenzy. However, you clenched your jaw and kept a steady breath. You couldn’t let yourself get carried away as you knew it was all just a game to him. Everything was a game to him.

If Jeongin was telling the truth and that he thought you were “cute” or “always looked adorable”, you would have truly allowed yourself to believe his words. You would have beamed knowing that he thought it was beautiful if you did or didn’t smile, unable to hold back a response to his affection. If he was telling the truth, you were even ready to blush, beg, plead, flirt—whatever it took to keep him talking about how pretty you looked.

Yet, you are a pessimist, through and through. Before your imagination could run off with the idea that Jeongin’s words were honest and genuine, your heart twined knowing that whatever he was saying was likely far from the truth. What Jeongin said was likely rooted in some foolish, mean-spirited, and twisted way of teasing you. He always did something like this after annoying you: poke the bear then tell it how lovely it looks before it has the chance to chase him down. It was just like those boys in junior high who would yell across the class claiming that “his friend liked you" while the very same friend made disgusted faces. The boys would laugh then, as if the very idea of loving you was a joke. The girls, however, would share a solemn silence, a solidarity only experienced by the victims of female adolescence and the macabre. A

After all these experiences, you knew two things: boys were assholes and they were bullies. And Jeongin was part of them.

So, at this moment, you felt dizzy from the sheer humiliation of his words and your bubbling hatred. You couldn’t believe that Jeongin had the audacity to tease you like this, to say you were pretty when you knew that he had nothing positive to say about you. Saying such sweet things to you with nothing but ill intent behind them made you want to tackle him. Fuck his good looks or his conceited yet insanely attractive attitude.

So, instead of letting yourself be hopeful and toy with the idea that he may actually be saying a nice thing, you did what you did every time: move past it and try to suppress your anger.

Clearing your throat, you returned to your book.

"Affection and coquetry won't work on me, Jeongin," you stated, eyes burning into the pages to try and ward off the pain in your stomach from his words.

"Oh, really?"

God. When will he learn to give up?! He leaned playfully on his hand and swiftly placed his elbow on the table, simultaneously and seamlessly nudging your book out of the way with a coy smile. The act made you huff through your nostrils and dignify his presence with a glare. He didn’t even register the pain his words had caused you.

"They won't," you respond emotionlessly. All your emotions, however, became quite clear as you pushed your book back to its rightful place and shoved his elbow out of the way in the process, making him hiss from the pain. "And I doubt anything you do to me would count as flirtation."

Jeongin's sour face from the ache in his arm quickly changed to a wide-eyed, agape look. Oh no. The face of mischievous curiosity.

"I take that as a challenge!" He boomed.

"Oh, God, please smite me now," you mumbled, anxiety and rage rising.

"I just gotta figure out what you like about me and just really capitalize on it," he pondered aloud.

Well. That statement made you scoff.

"I like nothing about you," you dryly stated.

“Oh, come on!” He responds, hoping your words were of off-beat humour rather than born from frankness. Your annoyance was boiling over, unable to contain it.

“No, it’s true,” you stated with malice. “You tease me about my looks and try to make me feel pretty just to tear me down. It’s honestly sickening and, frankly, after four years, it’s kind of unoriginal, Jeongin.”

“Y/n, what?”

There was no humour in your voice in the next words you spoke, no inkling that what you said could be taken lightly. You had let yourself speak freely and felt the burn of horrid words as they dripped from your tongue.

“In fact, I would say I’d rather hate you. Extremely so.”

Silence engulfed the room. Not even the squeak of the chair as Jeongin shifted could be heard. You glanced up at the boy beside you. Jeongin was still and silent: two things he never was.

"...What?" you asked, your words met with no response but the cold echoes of the library.

“Y/n, how could you say that?” His voice almost cracked as he asked the question. You glanced up at him and caught his eyes. They were glassy, empty.

Oh no.

Oh no... that dreadful empathy inside of you made your heart ache and your stomach churn. How could you feel so horrible after saying one mean thing when he's been nothing but disrespectful to you for four years?!

"I, umm... I—I mean" you tried to defend yourself without seeming like an asshole, which was becoming increasingly difficult as your mind raced to fill the space. However, you realized you had nothing positive to say at all. “Ah, fuck it,” you whispered under your breath. “Jeongin, be serious. Why would I like anything about you when you are nothing but mean to me?"

"Mean to you?!" He spat back, breaking from his hurt trance and turning to anger, simultaneously exacerbating your rage. "When have I ever—!"

"You've been mean since the moment we met!” You shot back, “"You taunt me, tease me, and even follow me when we run into each other. It is hard enough dealing with academic stress, then I'm paired with the bully that makes my life a living hell and—"

"Bully?" He repeated with some distaste in his mouth and a saddened look on his face. "Is that what I am to you!?"

"What else would I call someone who's followed me every day for four years and has done nothing but jeer at me with his friends?! It is hard enough wanting to please everyone and excelling at school despite what I tell myself. But then I get some guy harassing me every day like it's his fucking day job. What else would I call him if not a 'bully'?! What, Jeongin, what?!"

The library walls repelled your voices again and let its old age absorb the hateful things you spat at each other. Slowly, the sound waves dissipated and silence consumed the wooden room. As the quiet settled, Jeongin let a beat pass, nothing to be said as he, too, let your words sink in.

"I... I just wanted..." His voice was hard, stern at first. Then, he sighed, cleared his throat and darted his eyes away, tone changing to a nervous and humble one. "I just… I'm sorry, y/n. Please know that, okay? I never meant for it to be like that or to go this far or even in this direction. Please know that."

The library had never seemed so unsettling to you until this moment.

Your mind dissected his words, prodding them and pulling them apart and trying to find if he was being malicious. Strangely enough, his words seemed... genuine.

Great. This meant two things: 1) that he was genuinely sorry after bullying you for four years, and 2) that, if you wanted to be the bigger person, you had to accept it. Worst of all, your brain came up with the perfect way to accept his apology and also humble yourself, and you really hated how perfect it was and how humiliating it would be. Sometimes, your really fucking hated how your brain worked.

"Innie,” you said softly, “Thank you.”

Jeongin's eyes went wide, so wide you swore they would pop out. The gasp that followed made you believe that he would consume all the air in the room.

"Say—say it again!" He stammered out excitedly.

"No," you replied as you cracked a small smile. "Take it as a peace offering. I, the person who spoke so ill of you, am extending an olive branch to you, the man who has wronged me."

"I understand so little of that metaphor but just know that I'm happy," he smiled. You rolled your eyes at his idiocy and smiled.

However, before you could conclude the discussion and finally, finally, finally, return to your book, Jeongin raised his hand in a half heart.

Hand. Jeongin's hand.

"What... what are you doing?" You mumbled out, studying his digits.

Pretty, big hand.

Fuck. Not these thoughts. Not now.

"C'mon, y/n! I'm making a heart for you to finish! As a peace offering or a tree branch or whatever you want to call it! Like this, yeah?" He demonstrated by making the shape with both hands, making a complete heart and showing it to you with a boyish grin.

Big, soft, veiny hands.

"Uh, y-yeah, Jeongin," your hand was shaking as you raised it to his own. Fuck, they were even bigger in comparison to yours.

Hands. Hold. Touch. Big and veiny and... big...God, what well is big?

That fucking part of your mind needs to shut the fuck up before you lobotomize yourself with a #2 pencil. Luckily Jeongin’s giggles as your hands briefly met to form a heart between the two of you snapped you away from such thoughts.

"Guess we're friends now, huh?" You muttered, trying to distract your perverted inner monologue.

"Aw, y/n!!!" He boyishly cheered. His impish smile was contrasted by his low chuckle. However, your own joy was challenged when Jeongin quickly interlaced your fingers in his.

Oh no.

My tiny hand in his.

"Wait, your hands are so small!"

So big... so big compared to me... so soft, so warm...

"Y-yeah, I've heard that before."

"They’re so adorable! My hands look so big compared to yours, yeah?" His other hand lightly traced your wrist before grabbing it and forcing you to spread your fingers to compare hand sizes.

So, so big. Could barely wrap my hand around him. Could barely wrap my hand around his—

“Wow you’re right,” you responded nervously.

You started to feel that strange feeling, the one you only experienced in solitude in the dead of night, not sitting across from a man who may or may not be your bully anymore and is using you like a plaything. God, why did that thought make these feelings even stronger? You crossed your legs and hoped to squash the voice in your head.

"Like woah! I knew my hands were big but this is crazy!"

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it—

"Do you have anything else that’s big that I should know about?"

...oh fuck.

This library has gone through too many auditory extremes today. You know that this has got to be the loudest goddamn silence you have ever or will ever experience in your life. Both of your eyes were wide, your stare locked in with his as you sat engulfed in shock.

For the first time today, you felt just how hot your face was.

It felt like an eternity was passing within these seconds of horrifying, dreadful awkwardness. You prayed that once you would finally blink that he just be gone. Sadly, he still sat there, face unchanging and unforgiving.

His hands still held your own.

Breaking the silence, he let out the driest of coughs.

"Well, it's—"

"I-I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's—It's no worries, truly," he stammered over. The silence came again, but less horrendous this time. Or maybe it was worse, you couldn't decide. All you noticed was the fact that his hand still hadn't left yours.

Jeongin decided to speak again, quieter this time. His eyes were wide, but glancing around frantically, trying to search for the right words. A harsh blush was forming down his ears and hard turned his honeyed skin into a scarlet red. You were strangely comforted knowing that he was just as mortified as you.

"I-It's wrong you know." He hesitated to continue. You, however, were all ears.

"Jeongin," you said slowly, "whatever do you mean?" He sighed, embarrassment consuming him.

"My friends looked it up and... apparently nose length is a more accurate measure.... but... you know..." Though you were fascinated to learn about this new little tidbit of info and that Jeongin actually knew something, you were way too focused on what he wanted to say.

"But what?" you asked in a small voice. His palm was sweating against yours as heat radiated from him.

"Well, just that.. you know... it's not like a rule. There are exceptions. It's just like a theory, yeah?" You nodded, glad to understand what he meant by that. Yet, you swore, that as he finally dropped his hand, exposing your skin to the bitter air of the dusty library, Jeongin uttered a brief "I should know." Though you wanted to poke and prod, you opted to just nod and turned with him towards the table, staring at the stack of unread books.

“Anyways…” you said, breaking the silence, “let’s get started.” Still, you couldn't help but sneak quick looks at Jeongin's face, trying to decide whether or not his nose was longer or shorter than average.

This had to be your least productive and positively worst study session ever.

"What section do I have to read again?" Jeongin asked.

Oh, thank God he said that. You much preferred harassing him about not paying attention than whatever the hell you just experienced.

"I told you," you sighed, flipping open his book and pointing at the contents. "These sections! 2 to 4! Please! Start!"

"But what if I get borreedddddd?" Jeongin groaned. There he was! There’s the annoying Jeongin you know. "I can barely see what you pointed at anyways! Can’t you just help me out?"

"Ohmygod," you muttered, tired but willing to do anything if it meant he shut up and study. "If I were to help you for a bit, do you swear to properly study and leave me alone after?"

"Pinky promise!" He smiled gleefully and stuck out his extended, large pinky finger. After staring blankly at the digit, you linked your smaller pinky around his and slung your head in defeat.

"Okay," you muttered. "Let's begin."

For a bit, this plan worked perfectly. After only 20 minutes, you read through section 2 together and helped point out the more important parts of the text. The 20 minutes were difficult, however. Being this close to him, being able to smell his cologne—which was nice and smelled expensive, contrasting his scruffiness—and brushed shoulders with him was almost too much. Wow. You really were touched starved. Nevertheless, your own lameness was virtually undetectable to you. You were more focused on how well Jeongin retained the information and how neat his words were. You guessed that his utter stupidity was most likely due to his inability to focus, which was still a struggle even as you helped him. Nevertheless, as you began section 3 and were about to return to your own work, you knew that he had already come a long—

"HOW LONG HAVE WE BEEN DOING THIS?" Jeongin cried.

Ah. There he is.

"Just a little more, Jeongin, okay? Please, just be bearable. I have my own work to do," you whined, stomping your feet from exhaustion. Even when he was trying to be polite, he still knew how to get on every one of your nerves.

"Can you please just keep helping me? Just this section and then I swear you can get back to your work?" He pouted. Was... was giving you puppy dog eyes?

You sighed. Again, defeated.

"Yeah, sure," you replied, "let's start here—"

"Y/n?" He interrupted. You rolled your eyes.

"Yes?" He let your snark reply hang before smirking.

"Come closer," he nudged playfully with a smile you would almost consider flirtatious if you hadn't been constantly reminded about his disobedient behaviour for the past hour.

"Why?" You asked genuinely.

"You're squinting! You said don't read with your glasses on but it's straining your eyes! Just..." he thought for a moment, glancing around. "Ugh, whatever! Here—"

Unexpectedly, his hands found their way around your body, slinking under your legs and around your back, sliding under your thighs and brushing the exposed skin.

"Jeongin! I can just put my glasses on—" you blabbered out nervously as he continued to lift you.

"Just come here, fuck!" He shot back, finally raising you from your chair and sliding you onto his lap.

"Jeongin!" You yelped.

Normally, anytime someone picked you up made you want to scream. This, however, this made you want to die.

As if by some magical swiftness, you had now found yourself sitting on Jeongin. Well, not on him. Just between his legs. His long legs were spread out, your thick thighs barely fitting onto the chair as he caged you. And he hadn't remembered to tuck your skirt in when you sat down, so now it splayed open. It had ridden up, exposing everything but your white cotton panties, and was surely flipped onto Jeongin's pants at the back. You just prayed he couldn't see anything. However, he probably couldn't considering how close he was. Worst of all, he kept you close by resting his hands on your hips, making sure you sat still. The pads of his long fingers held your tummy softly, dipping into the fat as his thumbs rubbed slowly up your lower back.

You swore you had never felt so warm in your life. As you broke out in a sweat, you feared that his wolfishly big hands were paired with a keen sense of smell.

"There!" He giggled, resting his chin on your shoulder and leaning his head against yours, studying the book with intentness that starkly contrasted the intimacy of how he held you. "Now you can see well!"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times trying to find something to say. Though his completely nonchalant demeanour was to be expected, you were still shocked but the literal position you were in. Not to mention the way his thumbs slowly drew circles on you while his hands shifted to hold your stomach. Your stomach for godsakes. How does he know exactly where to hold you to make you feel so secure and so goddamn embarrassed at the same time?! You pressed your thighs tightly together, trying to smother the weird feeling building between them that you tried so desperately to avoid. While you squished them your legs, your thighs were simultaneously crushed on either side by Jeongin's own, which were incredibly muscular: a feature you had never noticed until you were stuck between them.

"How..." you asked, "How did you do that? Aren't I heavy?"

"Am I complaining?" He asked back, a smirk in his voice. He wrapped his arms around your waist now, tugging you closer and pressing his chest fully into your back. "If you were ‘too heavy’, you wouldn't be sitting here right now, hm?”

"I-I suppose..." You start, not knowing what to say next.

"Now," he sighed with an air of exaggerated contentment, "if you want to finish this project sOooOOoo bad, then help me study!" God, how could he have you in the palm of his hand— literally— and still manage to pester you?!

"O-okay," you stuttered unsurely. "Well, let's start here and—"

"Mhm," Jeongin hummed, still massaging your fupa lightly and pressing his chest firmly against your back. You tried to burn a hole into the bookk—a feeble attempt at trying to distract yourself.

"A-as you can see," you coughed, "this section is more about analyzing the um..."—one of his hands started to rub lower—"the events t-talked about in the previous section a-and"—the other starts moving up, ghosting over your chest and playing with the top button of your shirt, leaving your tie untouched despite how you desperately wanted to loosen it—"t-trying to c-contextualize the previous section and… p-provide some background and… umm…."

"Gosh, y/n," Jeongin chuckled as his fingers rubbed the column of buttons, "I thought you were such a good student, but you seem so distracted. It's funny really."

Maybe he’s just distracted, you tell yourself, trying to reason what in the hell was going on. After all, he can barely sit still in class and often toyed with loose hems or drew on the margins of his papers. Therefore, it was perfectly reasonable to assume that he was just doing the same now: toying with your uniform as a means of distraction. He always played with you anyways, so it was safe to assume that it was some attention deficit that caused him to trifle with you. That's all it was. Or, at least, you prayed that would be the truth. As his hand fiddled with your skirt’s hemline and the other began loosening your tie, you were just hoping that this was all some absent-minded game for him. If that were the truth, then hopefully this dreadful pressure from between your thighs would disappear. It was building with every second and your panties were now so tight, so straggling, and so wet, latching onto your folds and aiding in your growing shyness.

"J-Jeongin," you began, "c-can you—"

"Innie, please, y/n," he teased in a low voice against your ear. "To you, it's Innie." Though you wanted to scream at him for uttering that petname again, you decided to push your pride aside. You needed him to stop, and you needed to utilize every tool in your arsenal to do so.

"I-innie," you stuttered out, shivering from the warmth that lingered on your ear from his breathy voice. "Can you please stop... you know... t-touching me?"

Again, Jeongin laughed. But, this time, it was drier, with less playfulness behind it and less mercy.

"Aw, y/n," he whispered into your ear, causing you to squirm a little, "I thought we were just having fun. Are you really getting all worked up over a few little touches? I thought you would like it more, you know, considering it's my big hands doing it." His last words were strongly enunciated by his hand tugging on your tie to gain access to your collar buttons. He started to play with them as you huffed, undoing them teasingly.

You were fuming at his words, knowing that: 1) he was just doing this because—at his core—Jeongin was just a fucking asshole, and 2) he was, sadly, correct. Still, you were determined to not let him know that he was right. Knowing him in the way you do, you couldn't let him take this victory

"I-is that really what this is about? Are you really hanging on to that! I had a lapse of judgment f-for one second and—" another button was undone and he began working on the next. After this next button, your bra chest would be exposed. It was only covered by an ill-fitting bra and you silently cursed your frugal self for not investing in better undergarments. Still, you continued. You had to. "I-I just fucking hate that you'd bring it up again! You just love to make fun of me d-don't you?! God, Jeongin, it is so typical of you to t-tease me like this and—Ah!"

The sound of clattering buttons across mahogany and the sudden exposure to air frightened you. Jeongin, however, didn't seem to mind.

"I told you," he stated in a voice you had never heard him use before. "It's 'Innie'. Yes?"

Clearly, he had gotten sick and tired of you talking. He just wanted you to finally be quiet, much like how you wanted him to do the same. To accomplish this, his hands found the opening of your shirt and ripped the fabric open, scattering the last of your buttons, ruffling your shirt, and exposing your chest to him. In exposing you, Jeongin gained the upper hand. It was obvious that all pride, all power you had disappeared. However, his action had also done something else: the sensation you tried so desperately to conceal was making you hopelessly needy. You unconsciously began to twist your hips, rubbing your thighs together in hopes of eliminating the feeling.

The book in front of you was long forgotten.

"Yes..." you replied back in a small voice. "Yes, Innie. S-sorry." You could almost feel Jeongin smile behind you, but, if you truly could, you didn't notice due to his hands returning to their place on your collarbone and stomach. His fingers now languidly traced your clavicle while the other massaged your tummy, fingertips slowly digging into your skirt and pulling out the parts of your shirt that were still tucked in.

"What a good baby," he chuckled, paying no mind to the nickname, though it made you redder than blood. "So fucking horny and no way to ask it. Such a fucking pervert. I bet you wanted this, didn’t you? You're even rutting back into me. Trying to get me worked up, hm?"

"No," you gasped with deep embarrassment, "never!"

"Tut tut, y/n," he tsked. "I know you're up to something."

"If anyone is up to something, it's you!" You protested. Your exclamations only made Jeongin laugh.

"Now, now," he giggled, "you wouldn't want anyone—say, a janitor or a lingering teacher—to hear us and come in? Wouldn't it be bad to see their star pupil being fondled by the school delinquent? Wouldn’t it be bad for them to notice that you liked it?"

Fuck. He knew how to shut you up. You turned your head to catch his gaze, shame and that peculiar feeling spreading all over your body into a delightful mix that only exacerbated your guilt. He knew he had you.

"That's what I thought," he laughed. "Now—"

Quickly, his hands moved toward your chest, dragged your bra down, and began to pinch your nipples, massaging your breasts and causing you to moan. Your hips increased their shallow rolls in an attempt to alleviate the pain. As you did, you felt what you could only suspect to be Jeongin's growing erection pressing into your ass. He definitely hiked up your skirt sometime before and was enjoying the sight of his clothed cock rubbing against your panty-clad behind.

"Innie! W-what are you—?"

"Oh, baby," he laughed and he rolled your buds between his fingers, making you whimper, "You say I'm distracting you from studying, but now your acting like such a little slut from only a few touches. You're so sensitive. I swear, you could be a virgin, hm?"

You dared not respond, only offering him a shy look as he continued to rub your chest.

"Oh," he giggled, "oh, of course you are. My sweet little goody-two-shoes hasn't had anyone touch her pussy yet, hm? My little virgin baby, yeah?"

"P-pussy?" you repeated, knowing that the word was dirty from the way it left a delictable taste in your mouth.

Jeongin mused, "My my, you are inexperienced." He let out a laugh that brought tears to your eyes, though it wouldn't be the first time he had made you cry. You were so frustrated and felt so strange and your panties were so wet and surely see-through and fuck! While your mind raged. Jeongin let one of his hands slip down your body and down your stomach, moving his other hand to grope the tit it had abandoned.

"Your pussy," Jeongin continued, ignoring your squirms and internal war, "is this right here."

Everything clicked as his fingers rubbed the damp white cotton into your pussy, rubbing up and down your folds with his middle and ring finger, slowly stopping to rub your clit and make your head spin. You glanced down, noticing how large his digits were and wondered how much he could stuff inside of you.

"Such an innocent fuck toy, never been used," he rambled, tongue licking the conch of your ear and making you whimper.

"J-Jeongin—I mean, Innie," you corrected. You could tell he was pleased by the way he hummed into your ears while he nibbled on the lobe, an action that should not make you want to moan as much as it should. "P-please stop touching me, it isn't appropriate.”

"But I thought I was helping you study, y/n," he pouted in a pouty tone, fingers never ceasing their motions. "Isn't this keeping me distracted? Isn't this helping you study? I need something to fiddle with, and you’re the perfect fucking stress toy for me." A particularly harsh rub into your panties and a tight grasp on your chest made you yelp. "Aren't you liking this, y/n? Liking me touching your soaking cunt? Fuck, you even soaked through your panties, how pathetic. " He spoke humorously through gritted teeth. He returned to slowly groping you, kissing down your neck loudly and rubbing his erection into your backside. You felt like you were going to explode.

"You are, aren’t you?" he panted as he rocked back and forth into you, drooling down your neck. "I thought you were a better student than this. I thought you were such a good girl who was put off by teasing. What did you call me again? A bully?" He said the word with joking vehemence; teasingly but backed by a viciousness that made you crumble. "Would a bully do nothing but defend you for four years? Would a bully beat up any fucking nerd who insulted your intelligence? Would a bully praise you and call you pretty only to be given the cold shoulder just ‘cause you didn’t believe it? Fuck, I wonder what the school board would think if they saw you like this, being fondled by a fucking bully." His words turned to mush in your head, your brain frenzying at his confession and his touches.

"Jeongin, please, I didn’t know! P-please, I just thought you didn’t l-like me, Jeongin. I thought you were m-mean and—ah!"

Your pleas were cut short as Jeongin stood up and shoved you forward, bending you over the table as his chair loudly scraped. He ripped—literally, ripped off your shirt at the seams, the sound filling the room along with your cries, with your bra being pulled off next. You were left in nothing but your shirt and tie: Jeongin wanted you to be at least a little dressed up for him when he claimed you. He grabbed your hair by the root and pulled your head up, making you release a sound that was a mixture of a cry and moan. The pain was unbearable, but the suffering mostly came from the absence of Jeongin's hands on you. At this point, you had realized that this feeling was some disgusting, perverted form of horniness directed at a man you hated. It made you feel dirty and desperate. But, most importantly, it made you feel in dire need of relief.

"I told you, y/n," Jeongin growled in that angry voice which didn't suit your impression of him, "that isn't my name." He released your hair and let your head fall to the table.

"I'm—I'm sorry," you begged as he moved the discarded books out from under you and threw them off the table. "P-please don't do anything mean!"

Funny. It was really funny to see you beg for him. It made him chuckle dryly before he hung himself over your back, once again pressing his chest into you—which you could feel was bare, meaning he must’ve removed it in the midst of things, leaving him in only his sweats.

"Oh, my innocent little baby," Jeongin panted into your ear, "you will be sorry." Jeongin's playful and perverted voice was matched by his hands slowly tugging down your panties, an action that caused you to chant a mantra of "no's" as your pussy was exposed to the cold air. Eventually, he had gotten impatient and tore the fabric up, an act that made tears fall from your eyes.

"Aw, don't worry, y/n," Jeongin humoured after seeing your lip tremble when he returned on top of you, caging you in and rubbing his clothed cock into your exposed cunt. "I'll take such good care of you after you learn a little lesson, yeah? Don't you just love to learn knew things, you fucking inexperienced little know-it-all?" You squirmed under him, begging for more and praying that he would give it to you. Yet, it seemed that patience offered itself to Jeongin when it pleased, and now he seemed to have all the time in the world.

Slowly, he rose his body from yours and rested his hands on your ass, rubbing the flimsy skirt and toying with your fat.

"Such a dumb fucking little virgin," he groaned as he let your pussy dampen the front of his sweats, pressing his throbbing dick into your needy cunt and making you whine. "Needs to learn a lesson."

Swiftly, his hand pulled away and slapped your ass.

"Innie!" You cried from the feeling, tears continuing to fall as his hand reached up and spanked you again, filling the library with lewd sounds to accompany your moans and his grunts.

"Say my fucking name again," he whispered with venom as he continued to spank you, enjoying how your ass reddened with each hit.

"Innie, Innie! Please stop!" You sobbed, making him laugh.

"Just—a few—more," he stated, marking every few words with a repeated spank. His other hand toyed with your ass, enjoying the softness and how your untouched flesh contrasted the growing blush on the other cheek.

"Y-yes—fuck! Yes, Innie!" You whimpered.

"God, such a fast learner," he grunted, continuing. "Aren't I helping you study, now? What if I helped you study every day, yeah? Licked your little cunt every time you got an answer right and then spanked you when you get one wrong? Maybe that'll help with your studying. Do you want a study buddy, y/n? Hm? Do you?"

"Yes, fuck I do!" You sniffled in defeat. "Only Innie, only Innie can teach me. Please!"

Finally, after a loud and particularly harsh spank from Jeongin accompanied by a satisfied grunt, he decided that your study session was over. He settled his large hand on your ass and rubbed the scarlet skin to try and coax you back down. Your back rose and fell while your knees buckled from the torture he had just put you through. You let out a sharp hiss and every time Jeongin's hand lovingly fondled the abused flesh. Jeongin, however, was beyond elated and relished your pain. In another demonstration of his strength, he flipped your body over like a ragdoll and pushed you onto the table so your legs hung over the edge. He then slotted himself between his legs and greeted your puffy face with a broad grin.

"Such a good little student for Innie," he teased. Pushing into you further, he let his cock press against your soaking cunt and further drench his sweatpants in your juices. The warmth of your bares chests pressing together made you smile while the squish of your breasts made Jeongin rejoice in being able to indulge in the plumpness of your body. He placed a layer of kisses from your forehead down your face, licking away your tears and shushing your sniffles.

"Did I do good?" You sniffled. Jeongin held his body over yours, blocking the light above with his broad, bare shoulders. He looked down at you with a mixture of emotions behind his eyes which were hard to discern, but were surely good-natured, regardless of his previous actions.

"Of course, y/n," he hummed, "so good." He let his hands roam up and down your bare thighs to reassure you, coaxing a smile out of you.

"Really?" You asked with a lightness you didn't expect as you reached up to cradle his face

"Absolutely," he chuckled while only moving to lay his hand over yours. He leaned down again and resumed his trail of kisses down your neck towards your chest. Your hands helped pull him down to you. You played with his thick locks before trailing your fingers down his back muscles.

"Such—a—smart—and—pretty—girl,” Jeongin cooed between every kiss to your chest. Each kiss between his words only increased your sense of pride and the neediness between your legs. The feelings only worsened when Jeongin finally attached his mouth to your nipple while he groped the other, suckling on you with a ferocity you didn't expect.

"F-fuck," you mewled as spit trickled down your chest.

"Are you ready to continue our lesson?" Jeongin asked while moving to suck on your other breast.

"Yes, Innie" you purred as you arched your back to meet his mouth. “Always ready for you.”

He chuckled and continued to satisfy you a bit longer, caught up in your moans and almost forgetting the pain of his erection as it desperately kneaded your cunt. Despite your small protests, he finally pulled himself away. Smiling at your pouty expression, he sauntered backward and stared at your limp body before speaking.

"Stand up."

It was embarrassing how fast you rose to the ground. You were only focused on following his orders, obeying him, needing more and fearing that you would get nothing if you were disobedient. You barely even noticed how naked you were until you felt the cool air meet your spit-covered tits. Yet, when you moved to cover yourself, you stopped when Jeongin gave a look that said “I am not afraid to bend you over my lap and spank you again.” He smiled when you let your arms drop to your sides.

"She's such a good girl," he muttered aloud, reaching out to pull you forward by your tie. Your eyes were only on him and his sweat-covered chest and dishevelled hair and raw lips that kissed your body so perfectly.

He let his thumb slide up your jaw as he tugged you to him, hand sliding up your cheek and holding your face before tilting your head up. Then, as if the punishment didn’t happen, as if this annoying study session didn’t happen, as if these past four years were just a fever dream that you had finally awakened from, he leaned down and captured your lips in his. He kissed you—truly kissed you—for the first time, but, surely, hopefully not the last time.

When he finally broke away, he studied your soft eyes and offered a small kiss to your forehead, as if he were sealing you as his and promising that "Yes, I am sorry for the way things were. I'm sorry that what began as meaningless teasing just for fun turned into a fucked up crush. I am sorry that I haven't told you until now. I'm sorry that I'm such a fucking perverted loser that I couldn't just tell the beautiful girl that I had a crush on for four years that I liked her. I'm sorry that it took four years just to kiss you. I’m sorry I kissed you under such circumstances. Just know that I want you. I want you, so deeply and so passionately, so please just drop to your knees and fucking suck my cock and let me kiss you and fuck you and hold you and let me be yours and you mine." Instead of speaking the words he wished, he simply changed his stare and licked his lips, catching the lingering taste of you on them.

"Wanna learn something new?" He asked rhetorically, thumb gliding on your lower lip. You didn't even respond to him. Not a nod or a hum. You simply just allowed your mouth to open and have his thumb slip in, immediately rubbing the digit with your tongue and soaking it in spit. You didn’t want to respond or even acknowledge the act, not when you waited four goddamn years to suck his fingers.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" Jeongin mused. "I think you can assume what I want you to do." In response, you just gave your head a slight shake, still warming his thumb with your tongue.

"Really?" He asked in a mocking voice that made you wildly embarrassed and red. "You really are just a dumb little toy waiting to be used. Such an eager baby that wants to learn, yeah?" This time, you gave him a slight nod. Your hand traced his abs and stroked each line, unsure of what to do but unable to remain still.

"Okay then. Guess I’ll have to give my baby step-by-step instructions, yeah?" he sighed. "Get on your knees."

Needless to say, you were shocked by the request. Though you were glass-eyed at this moment and almost choking on just the length of his thumb alone, you still had a working mind; one that was not distracted by Jeongin's eagerness pressing into your lower abdomen or how he looked at you or how much he wanted you or how fucking good his chest felt or how he shivered when your hand traced over his nipples. Despite all of this, you still had a conscience, and it told you to leave. It told you that this was an embarrassing turn of events that could only end badly and that you should run away, leaving him with his cock still hard and unsatisfied, then report him to the principal for bullying or public indecency or something! You knew that you should go.

Instead, you simply sank to your knees. You still suckled on Jeongin's thumb while he shakily exhaled a chorus of "you're such a good girl, such a good student, so smart, so sweet, so soft". Your hands trickled down his abs before rubbing the soft fabric of his sweatpants that you wanted so desperately to be removed. They hung off him proudly and lowly, kept up only by a measly tied knot and displaying his adonis belt that drew your eye line downwards. When you finally settled on your knees, your fingers and eyes traced down these lines and fiddled with the top of his sweatpants. Your fingers then traced lower until your hand palmed his heavy erection, unsure of what to do as you massaged the length. He was so stiff and long and big and—

Oh. He was big. Even in your inexperience, you knew it. It must have been a good few inches above average. You gulped at his size, in awe of his length that he was done so well to hide.

"Remember what you said earlier?" He asked, removing his thumb from your pop mouth so he could cup your jaw. He tried to tilt your head up, but it was too difficult with your eyes fixated on the heavy, large bulge that protruded from his pants.

"C'mon baby, remember what you said? Use your big girl memory and tell me," he cooed. Your hands rubbed up and down his thighs while your hips rutted against nothing, the pressure between them building exponentially due to neglect. He tilted your head again, meeting your big doe eyes and forcing your focus away from his strained hard-on.

"Innie," you choked out, fingers teasing the hem of his pants. "Hands... so big... so you must be..." He let you trail off and allowed your faze to return to his pants as they transfixed on the prominent outline of his cock and the stain on the fabric right at his tip.

"That stupid fucking theory about noses being indicators of size," he continued with a smile on his face, "is just that: a stupid fucking theory."

As if answering your prayers, he used his spare hand to slip the knot off. Then, with a small tug, he slowly lowered his pants enough, just enough to let his cock slip out. In turn, you were blessed with the picture-perfect image of his cock.

"Don't I prove that what you say about big hands is true, y/n?"

You just gave him a dumb nod, too needy to formulate proper words. However, he didn't need you to speak: he knew he was correct.

You always had a thing for his hands, but they were nothing compared to his cock. But together, when his large hands held his immaculately big, veiny, pulsing dick made your mouth water and dribble fall down your lips. His tip was red and leaking precum, begging to be touched or fucked or given some goddamn attention. He offered himself a few pumps, hissing as his heavy erection dripped fluids that you tried to catch desperately on your tongue. It wasn't enough. You needed more.

"Innie," you mewled, catching his attention.

"Y/n," he gasped as he stared down at your teary-eyed expression that was so cute and obviously needed to be rewarded.

"Please," you mumbled with embarrassment, "teach me." Your hand then went overtop of his and tightened around it, subsequently tightening the grip on his dick and making him moan a little louder than what he was comfortable with.

"Y/n, f-fuck," he whimpered as he pinched his eyes. With your eyes still transfixed on his hot tip, you pulled his hand off his cock and allowed both of your hands to hold him, heat radiating off of his length and precum coating your hands until they were glossy. You pumped it slowly, just as he did, mimicking the motion and unknowingly teasing him more than he would like.

"B-baby, please just suck it," he panted. You glanced up at him again and felt the drool pooling out of your mouth and collecting on your tongue. Then, with great hesitation, you pressed your tongue against him and licked up his slit, causing Jeongin to release a shaky grown that was soaked in pleasure.

"J-just like that—fuck!"

Your hands kept a steady pace while stuck your tongue out, giving him persistent and repeated licks. Each time you re-coated his cockhead in slobber and coaxed more profanities out of him. Still, you maintained a steady pace and dared not to increase your speed. You wanted to hear him beg and cry and whine like this forever.

"Fuck, y/n, take more of it in your mouth," he begged as his hands rested on your head and tangled in your hair. Yet, due to your dumb state and how good he sounded, you struggled to obey him

"Oh, right," he panted out, "you need to be shown how to do everything. My baby is just a little dumb student who needs to be taught. She needs to learn how to suck Innie’s cock like a good girl, right Y/n?" You simply hummed in response, continuing to pump and milk him. Jeognin’s hand found stability on the back of your head and balled your hair once again. The pull made you moan and the strain burned just as delectable as it did before.

"Now, open your mouth wide," he chuckled. You obeyed him like the dumb fucking slut you were and allowed your jaw to go slack, still rubbing your tongue on the underside of his tip and making him swallow back a moan.

"Good," he praised in a strained voice. "Now, take it." Suddenly, he pushed your head forward and forced your mouth to take his cock, gagging on his girth and soaking him in warmth. The intrusion made you hum loudly and for you to tighten your grip on his pulsing length Jeongin, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to your teary-eyed gags and continued to shove himself into you, inch by inch.

"G-good job," he whimpered in a low voice that he hoped he couldn't hear, "so warm." Though you could barely breathe and your mind was shocked by the act, you still felt yourself dripping onto the hardwood floor below you. Despite your confusion, your tongue and hands seemed to know what to do. As you gagged on him, the wet muscle rubbed up and down on any part of his cock it could reach while your hands pumped what your throat couldn't take.

"J-just like that," Jeongin hummed. He pulled your head back then and allowed you to take a deep breath in before pushing you down again. Shallow thrusts allowed him to push deeper into you and fluids to leak from your mouth onto the floor below you. Lewd, wet sound accompanied your gags, making Jeongin beyond elated.

"Y-You're the best student, y/n," he hoarsely whispered. "So smart and you've learned to let me fuck your mouth so easily. Such a fast learner, such a g-good, good girl for her Innie, yeah?" You could do little but hum along.

"Aw, does my baby want to breathe?" He asks through pants, to which you replied with an eager hum. He pulled you off his cock and you immediately gasped for air, hands leaving him to wipe the drool off your face and dry your tears.

"Better?" He asked, a mixture of sincerity and domineering sadism coating his voice.

"Y-yes, Innie," you responded feebly. He smiled at your answer.

"Good." He then changed his expression to a stern look and released your hair, letting you settle on your knees and take a few deep breaths.

"Next step," he began as he lifted his cock up and harshly grabbed your wrist to hold it up yourself. After placing the heavy cock in your hand, Jeongin then grabbed the other hand and forced you to cup his balls, unchanging in his expression or demeanour. He stared into you and you stared into him. He tutted and cooed at your expression which eagerly awaited instruction, begging to know what to do.

"Suck them. Now."

The order was processed in your head and left you spinning. Yet, you immediately obliged. After all, you didn't want to disappoint Jeongin. He thought you were a fast learner and he wanted to train his stupid slut as best he could. If you wanted him to be proud of you, then you had to prove him right. As such, your tongue left quick kitten licks his balls and the underside of his cock. Jeongin, through whines and moans, began to pet your head and encouraged you, s if he was begging instead of trying to dominate you.

"N-now," he stuttered out, "Pump me, fuck my cock with your hand, y/n." Your hand picked up a fast pace that glided over his slick cock and only deepened the desperation in Jeongin's voice.

"Shit.” He gaped at how well you did it, how well you obeyed him. You even began to take control, going back to suck his tip while your hands fondled the parts your mouth couldn't satisfy.

"M-missed the taste of my cock yeah? Missed how my pre-cum tasted on your tongue?" He rambled as you pumped him eagerly and sucked harshly. Sweat dripped down his forehead and a blush spread down his chest from you. He couldn't help but speak when he got like this: he praised everything you did and began to tell you everything he wished to say.

"Oh, y/n, I w-wished you knew why I teased you," he confessed through pants, "I wished you realized how much I like to annoy you, to get your attention, to tease you—mmh, fuck! All my friends know why I do it... every day they ask why I don't just go up to you and tell you why. But I could never seem to." Your mouth parted from his tip, your hand quickly replacing it, so you could properly look at the man who towered over you.

"Why... why didn't you do it, Innie?" you asked, voice still hoarse from when he made you take his cock.

"Because," he gasped out as he tried to steady himself. "Because... I like to tease you, to make you notice me. I just w-want you to notice me, you sweet thing, and take care of me like you are now. And you know what? I think that—f-fuck—I think you like it when I tease you, too." He was not wrong, and the ruined floor with the clothes and books on it was evidence. But, you also knew that he was right because here you were, sucking his cock and balls and choking on it with the greatest pleasure. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. You wanted him to do things to you that you were too embarrassed to think about even in solitude.

You impatiently returned to his length, each lap of your tongue and stroke of your hand making his moans louder.

"Y/n," he groaned. "Y/n, y/n, y/n—" His voice got quicker as your motions increased in speed and determination. "Fuck d-don't stop, such a good girl! Perfect fucking mouth for me, perfect, so smart, such a tease—god!"

Suddenly, his hand pushed your head and his cock was shoved down your throat, mouth hugging him as his hips made shallow thrusts into you and gags erupted from your stuffed throat.

"Y/n, y/n, baby, y/n, swallow, swallow, please—" his chants were high pitched as he continued to rutt into your mouth, "—so tight so warm, I— I—I can't—hmph!" Jeongin pressed himself into you as far as he could while his hips twitched, causing you to choke but not dare pull away, not now, not when you were doing such a good job. Your mouth—reddened and swore from Jeogin's abuse—now leaked his cum that couldn't be swallowed.

"That—that, I—" Jeongin stammered unintelligibly. Ever the gentleman, Jeongin pulled you off his cock and watched the remaining liquid gush from your mouth. The cum trickled onto your tits and worn tie, making you squirm and for Jeongin to take a shaky breath.

"So, so precious," he muttered through exhausted pants. You stared up at him, coughing from the misuse of your throat and the need for air. Still, you felt strange: needy, unsatisfied, like you needed the same release Jeongin did.

"Innie, I need—"

"Please, rest, baby," he cooed, stroking your hair absent-mindedly as his still-hard cock pathetically dribbled out cum. You licked your lips at the sight: the taste of his juices still lingered on your mouth.

"No, no, I..." You pawed at his hands and gripped his wrists lightly. The act took him out of his trance and look down at you. You were sleeked in sweat and cum, your thighs were pressed together tightly and coated in slick. You bounced with impatience, wanting more and more and not knowing how to ask for it. However, Jeongin may be stupid and a jerk, but even he slowly pieced together what you wanted.

"Y/n, you—"

"Innie," you urged as you started to pull him down towards you. As you pulled him lower, you laid on your back, bringing him down with you. "Innie, please."

"Y/n, you should rest—" Jeongin tried to argue while he sank to his knees and placed his palm on the floor to steady himself.

"No." When he tried to argue again, you placed your mouth on his and pulled him fully on top of you on the library floor. When your lips finally parted, Jeongin stared at you with hopeful eyes.

"Please," you sobbed. You grasped one of his hands and slowly guided it down between your bodies, rutting against it as soon as it was close enough to your cunt. "Innie, please make it go away."

Jeongin smiled. Who was he to say no to you?

His hand immediately found your clit and began rubbing tight circles on it, making you writhe and whimper.

"F-Fuck, it feels so good," you mewled. Your pussy was gushing from the contact and it only became wetter when Jeongin licked his cum off of your chest. Bite marks and bruised skin were left behind in their stead, eager lips nipping at untouched skin. Though you hated being marked up and worried that it would show, you couldn't protest. Not when it felt this good, not when he was doing it.

Jeongin relished touching you, as well. He rubbed his cock onto your thigh while whimpering into each kiss. It was as if kissing you brought him to life, as if all of those years of teasing and picking on you had been worth it because he could fucking finally express his passion for you in a way that satisfied you both. Ever since he first saw you in the tight, ill-fitting uniform, he knew he wanted to be yours. Soon that feeling developed into the perverted dire need to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you from behind. Now, as he was kissing down your chest, and fingered your perfect, tight hole, he knew he was so close to what he wanted.

"Fuck, I," he gasped out between kisses, "I can't." Unexpectedly, he sat up and fully slotted himself between your legs. Before you could protest, however, you found your knees pressed to your chest, your skirt bunched around your waist, and Jeongin was rubbing his cock through your folds.

"Jeongin!" You yelped.

"J-just the tip," he whined. "Innie is gonna put just the tip in and then he is gonna take such good care of you. He just needs the tip, just a little bit, just needs to feel his precious little baby, just needs the tip just—hmph! Fuck! Y/n, baby, t-take it."

Even if it was just his tip, you knew you were too tight for him. Just his cockhead alone was stretching you out. But, the pain, just like how he pulled your hair or spanked your ass or choked you, was amazing. Though you protested, it was all just for show: to rile him up or to maintain some semblance of propriety. Truly, you never wanted him to stop.

"I-Innie! It's too big! I can't— I can't it's too big— fuck!" You stammered as continued to push himself into you, filling you with more than he had promised. Your voice made him whine and push his face into the nape of your neck. Immediately, he began to nip and kiss your neck in a feeble attempt to control himself. Yet, as he plugged you, he knew that he couldn't resist. You just felt too good, too sweet, too soft, too warm, too wet, and too perfect to just put his tip in. With every shaky breath, he tried to control himself, but he just couldn't. After only a few seconds, he began to stuff you full.

"Innie! What are you—"

"It's j-just the tip, just a little more." His muffled stutters vibrated against your skin, "I just n-need you, just need my g-good little baby to fuck this cock and be good for Innie and take what I give her. Let me fuck your perfect cunt and fill your pussy with my cum. You'd like that, to be filled with my c-cum?" Jeongin was almost fully inside of you and viciously rubbed your clit with every centimetre. You had never felt so full in your life.

"C-cum, Innie's cum?" You repeated naively.

"Yeah, just my cum. Only mine, only Innie's. You're m-mine, just mine only I get to fill this with my cum. Yeah?" He rose and looked down at you, lips ghosting over yours. As he stared down at you, it was hard to pinpoint what he felt. Sure, there was the deliciousness of corrupting your naivety, being the first one to fuck your cunt, and how every inch that entered you made you moan louder and with more desperation. However, at that moment, as he glanced down into your eyes which were always so sweet, he was overcome by the dire need to protect you. He wanted nothing more than to love you and have you as his, more than he'd ever wanted before. His cock eased into you, your breasts were covered in his slobber, you had swallowed his cum, his dick was twitching from overstimulation, and all he could think of was how lovely you looked.

"Yes," you sniffled, "only for you, Jeongin, my Innie."

"Oh, y/n," he panted. His lips captured yours and kissed them softly, contrasting the quick friction against your clit and the stretch of your cunt accommodating his cock.

Then he pushed himself into you, impatience getting the best of him.

"Fuck!" You both whined at the same time: Jeongin from the feeling of your tight cunt hugging him so well, and you from how you were filled to the brim with him. His hands moved to your inner thighs, spreading them to allow himself to rest between them and hug his waist. He eagerly gripped the soft flesh to try and control himself. Softly, his thumbs rubbed your skin and he let out strained moans. Your eyes were pinched shut and, with your legs free, you wrapped them around his torso and pulled him into you. As you did, he pushed a little deeper, only a little, but you rejoiced in the sensation. You feared that if pulled out of you, you would crumble. It was all too much too soon, too fast and too good to let it end too quickly. Clawing at his back with tears streaming down your cheeks, each breath brought you closer to him.

"It's too much... Innie I-I can't I—"

"Please, please, y/n." The desperation in his voice made your eyes open and stare at him. His face had reburied in your chest and it took everything in him to look up at you. As soon as you saw the look on his face, you knew that it was too much for him too.

"Let me make you f-feel good," he panted as he pressed his forehead into yours, "j-just a little, just take it, p-please." He didn't wait for your response as he pulled out a little, clamping his eyes shut from the feeling of dragging his cock out of you and hissing to refrain from immediately pounding back into you.

"Shit, it f-feels so good," you sniffled as he eased back in.

"Yeah? I told you. S-such a d-dumb baby, so dumb for my cock." His voice made you whine and your hands go up to knot themselves in his hair, pulling it slowly as his hips found a peaceful rhythm that contradicted the merciless lust it made you feel.

"So dumb," you mindlessly repeated, "such a s-stupid fucking baby for Innie." Your words hitched as he made a particularly harsh thrust into you.

"Innie,” you asked in a small voice, “d-do you like it when I say that?"

Jeongin panted, trying to control himself, "Y/n, I—"

"You like to know I'm dumb, yeah? My stupid little pussy n-not know how to handle your big, veiny fucking c-cock?"

"Fuck, please, don't edge me," he strained through gritted teeth and with fingers dinging harshly into your thighs.

"T-teach me, teach me to how to fuck your cock."

He didn't intend to pick up the pace as quickly as he did. Nor did he mean to make his thrusts so harsh with such a lack of control that you moaned with each push and pull of his heavy dick. But, when it came to you, he couldn't control himself.

"I'm—gonna—fill—you—with—my—cum," he growled as he pistoned into you. His hands moved to your outer thighs, occasionally spanking them and enjoying each jiggle of fat with every thrust into you.

"Fuck, slow—please s-slow down," you sobbed as your tits dragged across his chest, your overly sensitive nipples. Jeongin, however, just chuckled, his laughs dying out quickly as they were replaced by quick breaths. His eyes became dark again and his grip on you tightened, sweat mixing with your own as precum made a white ring around his cock.

"Just know that it's gonna spill out of you, that I'm g-gonna fill you up every day and keep you stuffed with it," he whimpered as his hips rolled faster, making his eyes pinch shut. "So warm inside of you, leaking out and just waiting for me to stuff it all back in and cum again and again and again and again."

"Innie, it's too much, " you responded dumbly. Jeongin didn't care. He just loved to hear his petname come out in little whimpers. His eyes opened again slowly, taking you in. Fuck, you looked so cute and fucked out, so close yet still begging for more.

"What's my name? Say it," he demanded with a stern glare.

"I-Innie..."

"Say it again—fuck, say it again, baby," he gasped.

"Innie!" You responded on command, like a dog being asked to bark.

"F-fuck, please, y/n, one more time just once more please!" He panted as his cock dragged and drove into you at an unforgiven pace.

"Innie, Innie fuck me, please baby, Innie, fuck!" You whimpered

"Fuck, it makes you blush. Getting all embarrassed and flustered... I make you blush, huh? My pretty baby, my innocent y/n, so cute—shit!" Jeongin's voice suddenly caught in his throat as he felt you tighten around him. While his veiny cock pulsed with each thrust, your warm cunt throbbed as you felt that strange feeling build and build inside of you. One of his hands moved back to your neglected clit and started to circle it quickly, making you pant like the needy bitch you were.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—ah! Y/n, baby, s-stop clenching or I'll—I'll—"

"Innie," you sniffled softly, your voice soaked in desperation. "P-please, make me cum. P-please, for me? Please!" You couldn't believe the words that left your mouth. Neither did Jeongin.

"Y/n, I'm—fuck—I'm gonna—" his thrusts became sloppy and your jaw went slack as you felt lust building to an inordinate degree.

"I'm gonna— Innie— fuck!"

"Y/n, my baby, my sweet b-baby I— cum, cum!"

"Innie!"

Your cunt began to pulsate and your back arched. The feeling was unimaginable, like nothing you could ever describe. It came over you quickly and suddenly, in a tremendous wave that you wish would last forever. Jeongin, in a brief moment of clarity, pulled out of you and rubbed his soaking cock quickly, letting out occasional and short grunts as he fucked his hand. Then, his hips stilled and cum began to spill out of his tip, coating your stomach and cunt in his cum. Yet, you hardly noticed: you were too-fucked out to care.

Riding your orgasm, you sank to the floor and Jeongin collapsed on top of you. Both of you took deep breaths and he dropped his head against yours, eyes shut in ecstasy. His hands lazily dragged up your body before resting on your face. He pet the sides of your jaw and drew your eyes open to meet his. Seeing your eyes was like seeing a home dock in a storm. He pressed his lips into yours and stole your breath away again.

The kiss—unlike the moments leading up to it—was slow, soft. It took its time and ended only when you two were satisfied. After being brought down to reality, Jeongin pulled away and brushed some hair out of your face.

"Y/n," he softly said.

"Jeongin, Innie," you said back, twirling with his sweaty locks and massaging the nape of his neck.

"We..." he panted out before taking a look around, "We gotta clean this place up and get the fuck out of here."

You stared at him in awe before cracking a smile.

---

You felt weird walking in with Jeongin and his gang on Tuesday. Gang? Maybe like "gaggle of friends that constantly annoy you but you are now stuck with and quickly learning to love." Needless to say, it felt like all eyes were on you. Actually, it was true. Teachers, students, faculty, everyone: no one could believe that the top student was now walking hand-in-hand with someone who held the reputation for being the school's worst student.

Despite being an outspoken and confirmed hater of Yang Jeongin, here you were: walking in next to him, with his arm slung around you, and blushing at his cute jokes. God, when did Jeongin become cute?! What a horrid thing to think, let alone believe. Yet, you knew it. He was cute. And now, the whole school knew that you thought so. Or, at least, that's what your giggles insinuated.

Maybe you always thought he was cute and now you allowed yourself to believe it, like those intrusive thoughts were actually right all along, and, yes, you did actually think he was incredibly sweet and handsome, and likely the best boyfriend. It's only been four days but he already has promised to walk you to and from school every day and has dates pre-planned with you up until graduation. He hasn't told you about the latter part yet, but he will soon enough. He just needs to wait until you're a little more comfortable with him before he confesses how much he absolutely adores you.

Being an "it" couple was not on your goal list for high school. Come to think of it, being stared at when you walk with your boyfriend and losing your virginity to him a mere four days before in the school library was not on the list either. Oh, how plans change. Somehow, however, you didn't mind the stares. Though most were shocked at how Jeongin had bagged the school's nerdiest (and hottest) girl, how that girl—who hated the man—now gleamed at him with adoration, and how they ever managed to get together in the first place, the most shocking element was the fact that your uniform was not up to code. Every day for the past few years, you were a picture-perfect student with pressed dress shirts, even ties, and cleanly pleated skirts. Now, your tie was loose and you were even wearing a hoodie—fuck, his, hoodie?! Jesus.

As you walked to class, you couldn't care less. Jeongin escorted you to first period, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek and almost smiling at how cute you looked all wrapped in his hoodie. Your fellow students—hell, even the teacher—seemed bewildered by the interaction.

You, however, barely acknowledged them. You just noticed the man in front of you in a light that was so starkly different from the past four years.

"Got everything, yeah?" He said with a straight face.

"Yes, Innie," you smiled, making him glance away.

"I told you—" he started in a voice that was a little too loud, making him dart around to see if anyone was looking his way. And, of course, everyone was looking at you two because how could they not? The eyes on him made him uneasy, but when he turned back to you, all those uncomfortable feelings disappeared into nothing. He licked his lips anxiously and leaned in, adopting a hushed voice to try and retain a morsel of privacy. "I told you not to call me that in public, baby," he blubbered, "it ruins my image. Please, baby."

God, was he blushing? Fuck, he was perfect.

"Okay, Innie," you teased, making him ever redder. You stressed his nickname and relished in his embarrassed demeanour.

Huh. Maybe Jeongin had been right all along: teasing was fun, especially if it was done on the person you liked the most.

"Promise me you'll go to class, okay? I'll see you in last period, then we'll keep working on the project," you said.

"Ugghhghhhhh.." he groaned with a long-winded exasperation. "UGH... Okay."

"Great!" You smiled mischievously, "And we'll actually have to work on it. Unlike all those other times we... 'worked on the project' together this weekend."

"Y/n." His blush grew from his ears down his neck, still unable to make eye contact with you. You'd think that years of teasing you made him impervious to sly remarks, but when they're coming from you, well that's a different story.

"Why are you acting like this?! It was your fault in the first place!" You huffed with an air of playfulness. "I just wanna remind you that we won't be alone in the library this time!"

"Just... g-get to class, okay?" He stuttered, "I'll see you later, baby." Extending his hand out in a half-heart shape, you completed it with a giggle, adoring how small your hands were compared to your boyfriend’s. Then, Jeongin softly wrapped his hand around yours and pulled you in, offering you a kiss to your forehead. When he pulled away, he readjusted your glasses as they had slipped down your nose bridge.

"Perfect," he said with a small voice. With a final giggle from you, he watched you go into class.

Now there was the issue of what to do with his day. Normally, he'd spend first period smoking outside with his friends, wait until second period for the cafeteria to start serving pizza, go to third just to eat, then go to fourth period just to see you.

Now.. fuck. He was actually going to class. He hated how you were already having an effect on his lifestyle, but rejoiced that you operated in a position that dictated his life. If he was to be controlled, he would want you to be the one pulling the strings. Jeongin seemed to see you for who you really were: determined, intelligent, and perfect to coddle. Looking at you even had an effect on him, one that he could now proudly display instead of hiding behind bullying and teasing (not to say he’ll stop teasing you anytime soon).

As he slung himself into his assigned seat for first period, his surprise was mirrored on the teacher's face. God. Despite having only a few days passed since you two got together, you were already changing him to a noticeable degree. Yet, it was for the better. And he smiled knowing that if he was changing, that it was for good and that it was for you.

#jeongin smut #I.n. smut #yang jeongin smut #yang jeong x reader #jeongin x plus size reader #jeongin x y/n #i.n. x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut

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sxcret-garden · 5 months

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Haiii - I hope you’re doing well and also that your hard hours mtl for ATEEZ are still open 🫣. If not plz disregard!!!! But if yes: mtl likely to send you videos of them getting off / want to receive videos of you getting off 🫠🫠🫠 your blog is 🥹 perfection 🥹 and I hope you write the most self indulgent fics because wow - all hits and no misses that I’ve found so far!!!! Danke 💗💗

Aaahhhh thank you so much for saying that anon 😭😭😭💕 it means a lot 🫶 auch danke hehe

As for your question.... first of all that's hot 🫣 second...

most

Seonghwa

Mingi

Wooyoung

Hongjoong

San

Jongho

Yunho

Yeosang

least

I think Seonghwa and Mingi would both be down for exchanging videos of y'all getting off. Frequently. Like, Seonghwa is just gonna be such a tease about it, seeing his videos you can't help but feel like he thought way too much about this before shooting it. Loveslovesloves sending you videos where he lets his hand brush down his clothed body, eventually palming himself through his pants and letting you hear the most delicious moans. And if you text him back, begging for more, he follows it up with another video of him naked, jerking off while muttering your name. If you send him a video of yourself he'll make sure to praise you A LOT, telling you how beautiful you are with every message you get as a reply. For Mingi I think it'd be a lot more sexual and less sensual. Like... strikes me as the type to send you videos of him jerking off when you're apart for a while and you both miss each other, telling you in detail what he wants to do to you the next time you see each other. Definitely has a folder on his phone of videos that you've sent him, and it certainly gets used quite frequently

Wooyoung and Hongjoong would also like the idea of exchanging videos of you two masturbating, but I think they wouldn't do it as frequently. Wooyoung especially finds the thought of filming himself getting off on you and then showing you hot af - whether he's just casually jerking off or if he's thinking and talking about a detailed fantasy of what he wants to do with you during. Appreciates it if you also enjoy sending him such videos, but he's also fine with it if you don't like doing that (though the day will come where he lets you know just how curious he is what it would feel like to receive a video like that from you lol). Hongjoong probably won't send as many videos himself, but he's down for receiving them from his partner. Finds it so hot, and when he has the time he'll definitely respond to your videos with a video of him jerking off, while praises for you continuously fall from his lips. He too likely has a folder of videos and audios of you moaning and getting off on his phone.

I think both San and Jongho would find it hot from time to time, but it's not something they absolutely want to see become a regular thing between you two. As for San I think he might enjoy making videos for you even more than receiving them from you. Definitely a sucker for you telling him what to do and then him acting it out in front of the camera, asking whether he's being a good boy or not, maybe even edging himself for you. And then sometimes you're gonna get a video of him just jerking off and lowkey growling into the mic that he needs you (the duality of this guy istg-). Will tell you how sexy and beautiful you are if you send him videos back, but as I said, it's more fun to him if he's the one sending them to you. Jongho would be the opposite I think. He'd love receiving such videos from you from time to time, and if it's something you really enjoy doing he'll certainly tell you about stuff he wants to see you do. As for him sending you those kinds of videos... I actually think he might be too shy to do it?? Will definitely let you convince him to try it if you really want him to. However he'll do it mostly to please you, and might feel a little awkward about it.

As for Yunho and Yeosang, I don't think it's something they're super into. Yunho will be open to try it, and even get some enjoyment from it if his partner likes it. Will both be fine with filming himself getting off and receiving videos by you, and in the case of the latter he'll make sure to tell you how gorgeous he thinks you are. But at the end of the day he prefers sexual acts when you're both in the same room! Yeosang is similar, except I'm not sure if he'd be down to try filming himself. He would certainly appreciate getting a video by you, but even that's not something he'd actively ask for. He too prefers doing stuff with you when he can actually touch you and see you irl

#hehe that was fun #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez mtl #ateez hard thoughts #ateez headcanons #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez x gn reader #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #jongho smut #smut #mtl

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bellofthemeadow · 8 months

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Harrington!reader, Steve’s little sister. Popular, a cheerleader, first time senior and Chrissy’s best friend. But she has a secret that only her best friend knows. She’s had a crush on Eddie Munson since middle school. She’s afraid to tell him, thinking there’s no way he’d be into her. Until one day in the cafeteria, Jason Carver calls Eddie a freak. She confronts him, and punches him in the face, breaking or spraining her hand/wrist. Guess her little secret is out, and she may never be popular again.

OF COURSE MY DEAR ANON! I am so sorry it took forever to address this request! I have just started my final year of Uni, and with four seminars and graduate applications, I have not had any time to write consistently! But this idea was too enticing to pass up, so thank you very much for sharing it! For those waiting on other fics, I am slowly but surely getting back into the groove of writing more consistently so it should all come out sooner rather than later (hopefully) and I always welcome more fics or one shot ideas! Thank you to y'all for bearing with me, I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU SO SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️

No warnings excpet for some violence (against Jason Carver so thats fine I think) and some heavy make out session

Word Count: 5.3K

Masterlist

Hit Me Baby One More Time

You had gotten your first taste of popularity on your very first day of middle school, a couple of years ago. That entire week leading up to it had been filled with fear and stress about what people would think of you. Overwhelmed, you had spent the last few days of your summer agonizing over your outfit choice, turning your daily fashion show into a reluctant performance for your big brother, Steve. Despite his huffs and puffs, he had reassured you that everything would go smoothly, but you couldn't help to worry. Eventually, you ended up settling on a cute white dress that reached just above your knees, paired with a soft baby pink cardigan. You had hoped it would be enough to get some of the right kind of attention that Steve always talked about.

In hindsight, you realized that you might have been a tad dramatic as when lunchtime had rolled around, a group of girls had approached you, giggling with excitement. "Are you Steve Harrington's sister?" they had asked-whispered with bright envious eyes. You slowly nodded, and with elated giggles, they ushered you over to their table, where the popular crowd was hanging out. It turned out your brother had quite the reputation, and while you knew he was popular, you hadn't fully grasped the extent to which the name Harrington would impact your social life. For you, Steve was just the idiot older brother who used Farah Fawcet's hairspray to keep his dumb hair in place – But to everyone else, it seemed that Steve was a pretty big deal. So, you were, it seemed, a legacy, and the rest, as they say, was history. And that very day, you also ended up meeting your future best friend, Chrissy Cunningham, who you would grow to love with all your heart.

Five years had come and gone, and now, you were finally well-established into your senior year, ready to graduate in the spring. And while it was true that your older brother might have facilitated your initial entry into the realm of popularity, you had since etched out a distinctive name for yourself. As your brother moved on to new chapters in his life (namely an underpaid job at family video), your own journey through high school took a markedly different path. In fact, your popularity had continued to ascend, like a rising star in the night sky.

Though the Harrington name may have laid the foundation, you had meticulously built upon it, brick by brick. You had cultivated your own unique persona, and it had become a force to be reckoned with in the hallways of your school. No longer living in the shadow of your brother's glory days, you had emerged as a charismatic figure in your own right.

You had become The Harrington sibling who truly counted, especially after the dramatic showdown between Steve and Billy Hargrove during his own senior year. In the aftermath of that clash, your brother's social standing had taken a considerable hit, with much of his social credit being seized by the mullet-wearing bad-boy. The Harrington name, which had once been associated with Steve's swagger, now conjured images of a radiant, saccharine smile, cheerleading outfits, and a personality as pinky-sweet as bubblegum.

While Chrissy indisputably reigned as the queen of Hawkins High, some believed it was only because you had no desire to claim that throne—a belief rooted in truth as you had no interest of being the queen of anything, especially Hawkins High as beyond Chrissy, you harboured little affection for the other members of the popular clique. Whether it was Jason Carver and his cronies or the remainder of the cheer squad, you couldn't help but find them increasingly vapid.

Nestled at the popular table right in the heart of the bustling cafeteria, always donning Hawkins’ green cheer outfit, a nagging sensation of inauthenticity always clung to you. Hitching deep into your soul, making you feel like the fraud you’ve always believed yourself to be as although your elevated social status had smoothed your journey through high school, ensuring a constant stream of party invitations, a steadfast companion, and even a few favors from teachers who were drawn to your preppy smile and sunny disposition, it all felt like a facade, far removed from your true self.

You’ve always known how deep inside, there were facets of who you really were that you couldn't openly share with anyone but Chrissy. She alone knew of your profound love for fantasy and science fiction novels. Nothing brought you more joy than retreating home to dive headlong into the mystical realms crafted by H.P. Lovecraft or to lose yourself once more in the pages of your well-worn copy of "Frankenstein." Yet, these passions remained concealed beneath the veneer you projected: the princess of Hawkins High, painted in shades of pink, sweet, and deceptively perfect.

The idea of letting those hidden, nerdy passions of yours see the light of day felt like a risky bet, one that could potentially leave you feeling incredibly alone at Hawkins High. The thought of losing friends and having nowhere to sit during lunch was a constant source of worry. You had faith in Chrissy's unwavering support, regardless of your social standing, but you couldn't bear the idea of burdening her. She was just so kind, always forgiving even to those who didn't deserve it, and you didn't want to be the one responsible for pulling her down.

As a result, the decision to keep these aspects of your identity hidden weighed heavily on your heart. It felt like an unspoken loneliness, a sacrifice you were making to preserve the fragile balance of the life you'd carefully constructed in high school. Hawkins High had its own intricate ecosystem, and you were very much a part of it. Your place within that system was delicate, and you couldn't afford to disrupt it, fearing that it might set off a chain reaction that could destabilize everything. You had no intention of being the one to upset the frail high school biome of Hawkins High.

Now, however, your situation was far from ideal as you found yourself sandwiched between Carly and Tina during lunch, and today, they were even more exasperating than usual. There seemed to be some sort of fallout from Tina's last party, something involving a boy, and now the two girls communicated exclusively through snarky remarks, making the tension rise with every snip from either girl. A brewing headache was beginning to claw at your temples as you were waiting for the explosion to erupt sooner rather than later.

What was happening in front of you wasn’t any better as you were given a front-row seat to the somewhat uncomfortable sight of Jason Carver deeply engrossed in a passionate kiss with Chrissy. She appeared to be on the brink of embarrassment, her attempts to gently push Jason away carried out with shy reluctance. "Jason, please," she implored, her manicured hand finding its way to his chest, a plea in her eyes. "Not in front of everyone..."

In response, Jason merely rolled his eyes dismissively. "Come on, baby," he insisted, his voice low and unconcerned. "No one's even paying attention to us."

You couldn't help but scowl, unhappiness etching your delicate features as you watched the uncomfortable display unfold before you. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer. You cleared your throat and loudly exclaimed, "Hey, Chrissy?" All eyes turned to you, and you continued, "Do you think we could slip away from lunch a bit early to go over the routine we've been practicing for the upcoming game? I really want to make sure I've got it down perfectly before tonight's match."

Chrissy's sigh of relief was almost audible, and you could sense her gratitude. In contrast, Jason huffed unhappily, clearly irritated by the interruption. He muttered something about leaving you girls to your conversation before he got up and headed to chat with one of his buddies at the far end of the table.

You and Chrissy shared a quick, wordless girl-to-girl conversation. All the words you needed were conveyed through a bombastic side-eye from you and a subtle nod of your head toward Jason. Chrissy responded with a playful roll of her eyes and a slight shake of her shoulder, silently agreeing with your sentiment.

As your eyes shifted away from Chrissy, they unexpectedly locked onto the deep brown ones of Eddie Munson. Two distinct emotions surged from deep within you. One was a rush of excitement as the warmth of your crush enveloped you, causing your face to flush as red as a ripe apple under his gaze. But in an instant, that crush felt almost crushing when you realized that it wasn't you that Eddie was looking at, but rather Chrissy's high ponytail that had captured his attention.

Eddie and Chrissy. Chrissy and Eddie. ChrissyandEddie. It was an undeniable fact that the guy you had the most enormous crush on happened to be utterly smitten with your best friend. It felt almost tragically comical, if you were being honest with yourself. Throughout high school, countless guys had mustered the courage to ask you out, but you had dismissed them all without a second thought. Football jocks, band nerds, potheads, music fanatics – none of them could hold a candle to Eddie Munson in your eyes.From the very moment you first crossed paths with Eddie during your freshman year, your heart had been irreversibly, completely, and utterly captivated by the charismatic and outspoken boy. You were utterly unprepared for it, not like you were out there seeking Cupid's arrow to pierce your heart. You had simply been an unsuspecting victim of one of its whims, but the exquisite pain that followed was worth it. At least, you hoped so.

Thanks to Eddie's recurring attempts at redoing his senior year and your placement in advanced classes, your worlds intersected more than once. One particularly unforgettable encounter unfolded in Mrs. Allen's math class, where the teacher had a peculiar notion that pairing the class's worst student (Eddie) with its best (you) would somehow work magic. You were left a bit shy and entirely tongue-tied in his presence, but Eddie had an uncanny talent for leaning in close and delivering a barrage of side-splitting, utterly inappropriate observations about Mrs. Allen that left you snorting with laughter. For a glorious three months, Eddie was your math partner in crime, and during that time, you dared to believe that something more could evolve from your interactions. If only you could string together coherent sentences without tripping over your words.

However, as fate would have it, the teacher eventually grew tired of her seating arrangement, deciding it was high time to shake things up. This twist in your high school narrative resulted in you and Eddie being separated, an alteration you weren't particularly thrilled about. The new arrangement effectively put a damper on your burgeoning connection.

It was in the midst of this seating shuffle that Eddie tossed a rather loaded question your way, catching you off guard. "Your friend Chrissy," he began, as you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. "Is she still with that Carver douche?" Your gaze faltered as you met his, a nod escaping your lips as a wave of disappointment surged within you. Inwardly grappling with the sting of unspoken heartache, you found yourself clutching the hem of your cheer skirt almost desperately. Without another word, you retreated to your newly assigned seat, a sense of melancholy lingering like a shadow and bitter disappointment coating your tongue.

Even now, your gaze would involuntarily flicker to Eddie whenever you found yourself in the same room. Often, he'd be engrossed in conversations with his bandmates or his D&D group, leaving you on the outside looking in. It was a conflicting sensation, feeling his presence so near yet so far away. If only you could gather the nerve to strike up a conversation with him, but you hesitated. After all, you were the popular girl, the one who played by the rules, and good girls weren't supposed to mix with people like Eddie, no matter how much you desperately longed for it. Perhaps during math class today, you thought, you might find a plausible excuse to approach him. Maybe something as simple as asking about the homework or...

"And what the hell do you think you're staring at, Freak!?" The sudden hush that swept over the cafeteria was palpable as every head turned toward Jason, who had abandoned your table and was now striding purposefully toward the one where Eddie and his friends were seated. A chill coursed through your veins, causing your face to pale. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the unfolding drama as Eddie rose from his seat. While he appeared outwardly confident, the telltale clenching and unclenching of his hand betrayed the nervousness bubbling beneath the surface. It was clear to you that what he was displaying might just be a facade of bravado.

"Did you dribble that orange ball a few too many times, Carver?" Eddie sarcastically chimed in. His words hung in the air, an open challenge that seemed to stoke the flames of Jason's anger. In a fit of rage, Jason lunged forward, grabbing Eddie by the front of his well-worn jeans jacket. The cafeteria held its breath, anticipation hanging heavy in.

A gasp escaped your lips, a sharp, involuntary intake of breath as the dramatic confrontation unfolded before your eyes. Abruptly, you shot up from your seat, causing Chrissy to turn around in surprise. She sent you an uncertain look as you started to stride toward the two boys. It was as if you were possessed by a force stronger than yourself, you couldn’t let whatever was happening continue – you had to do something!

"Don't try to bullshit me, freak!" Jason's voice reverberated through the cafeteria, anger and scorn dripping from his words. "I saw you looking at Chrissy. You think you can just lay your eyes on her, you freak? She isn't yours; you're nothing but trailer trash! Don't you ever dare to look at her again, alright? Or I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget!" Jason was so close to Eddie's face that his spittle sprayed across the other boy's features. He shoved Eddie backward, and it was at that moment, as you were making your way between the mass of students that had clustered around Jason and Eddie that you felt a surge of red-hot anger like nothing you had ever felt before.

"Do I make myself clear, freak?" Jason continued, his voice dripping with malice. "Or do I need to send my boys to deal with you and your pathetic group of losers?" Eddie looked incensed, but he cowered under Jason's menacing threat.

"I...wasn't...looking," Eddie enunciated each word through gritted teeth, avoiding Jason's eyes. Jason burst into fake laughter, glancing around at the onlookers.

"Does the freak have a crush?" he taunted, his voice cruel and derisive. "That's hilarious. You honestly think you'd have a chance with Chrissy? Be realistic, freak. What is it now, twice repeating your senior year?" Eddie's face turned a deep shade of pink, shame washing over him as Jason's taunts struck at his insecurities. His shoulders sagged with each insult, and he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Everyone knows anyway that the only way a freak like you could ever get close to a girl is when you and your little cult of Satan practice some sacrifices," Jason continued, his words laced with venom. "I'm even surprised they let people like you in here. Everyone knows what kind of trash your dad was, it ain't surprising that the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree…”

You pushed your way through the crowd, determination propelling you forward. Without a second thought, you strode purposefully toward the back of Jason. Eddie's surprised gaze locked onto you as you confidently approached them.

You extended your arm and lightly tapped Jason on the shoulder, effectively cutting off his rant mid-sentence. The abruptness of your action prompted Jason to whirl around to face you, his typically handsome features now contorted into a repulsive mask of anger. It was a stark contrast to the carefully cultivated "cool-guy" image he often projected. But deep down, you knew this enraged countenance was his true face, hidden behind the facade. In fight or flight mode, you recalled your brother Steve's advice about fighting, which you had stored away in your memory, "Sis," Steve's voice echoed in your mind, "when you throw a punch, put your entire body behind it."

And that's precisely what you did. With every ounce of your body weight, you thrust your fist forward directly into Jason's face. The cafeteria was filled with a sharp crack, echoing through the room, followed by a collective gasp from everyone present. An eerie silence descended upon the cafeteria.

Jason lay sprawled on the floor, a violent stream of blood gushing from his nose, while you clutched your hand close to your chest. Tears welled up at the corners of your eyes. No one had ever warned you that hitting someone would hurt like an absolute nightmare! It ] wasn’t like that in the movies!

Your gaze landed on Eddie, and you noticed a peculiar expression take over the young metalhead’s face – His brown gaze held something unfamiliar, a look you had never seen throughout the time you had been admiring him from afar. I was as though he were seeing you – like he was attempting to decipher the mechanics of your very being. It caught you off guard, this intensity in his stare, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.

“YOU BITCH! WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!” Jason roared from his sprawled position on the ground.

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from Eddie, you redirected it toward the fallen boy who cut a rather pathetic figure at your feet. Curling your lip in disdain, you adopted your most haughty tone and huffed, "You, Jason Carver, are the problem here!"

Jason, still sprawled on the floor with a nosebleed, glared up at you, his anger palpable, "You little—"

Before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off with a stern gesture. "Save it, Jason. You had this coming."

A stunned silence blanketed the cafeteria, every eye fixed on the unfolding confrontation. It was as if time had frozen, and the entire room held its breath in rapt attention as Hawkins' princess unleashed her verbal assault on the school's reigning king.

In that moment, you felt like you had the entire cafeteria in a chokehold, and you were determined not to let this opportunity slip away, not after what Jason had put Eddie through. Gathering your resolve, you continued, your voice dripping with disdain, "Do you honestly believe you can bully and belittle people just because they don't conform to your narrow definition of 'normal'? Well, I've had enough of your toxic attitude! You, my dear Jason, are the most insufferable idiot I've ever had the displeasure of encountering in my entire life! And I am done catering to whatever you and your dumb friends say!”

Jason struggled to get up, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. Turning back to Jason, you crossed your arms and delivered your final message with authority. "Consider this a warning, Jason. Mess with Eddie or anyone else again, and you'll have me to answer to."

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" Principal Higgins' thunderous voice pierced through the otherwise eerily silent cafeteria. In an instant, your confidence evaporated, leaving you feeling pale and exposed. You were caught off guard, unable to process what to do or say.

Before you could even react, a familiar, warm hand firmly grabbed yours, yanking you along as they sprinted in the opposite direction, forcefully pushing people out of the way. It was a grip you knew well, and you didn't hesitate to follow Eddie as he practically dragged you toward the exit of the cafeteria.

The scene you left behind was nothing short of chaotic. The entire school stood in a collective stupor, mouths agape in disbelief. Jason Carver, his face an alarming shade of red, appeared on the brink of an aneurysm as he struggled to regain his composure. Principal Higgins, in his authoritative fury, barked orders at the bewildered students, demanding answers and an immediate end to the commotion.

As you reached the exit and the clamor of the cafeteria began to fade, you couldn't help but let out a giggle of exhilaration. Eddie continued to lead you, now behind the school building and into the dense woods that bordered the campus. The farther you ventured into the secluded forest, the more you appreciated the sudden escape from the madness. Eventually, Eddie brought you to a worn-out picnic table, the wood weathered by years of exposure to the elements. Eddie finally managed to catch his breath. He exhaled heavily and asked, "What the hell... hfff... was that?!"

You leaned against the picnic table, still catching your own breath, and grinned at Eddie. "That, Eddie, was me finally giving Jason Carver a taste of his own medicine. That douchebag had it coming!"

Eddie let out a loud surprised laugh while still trying to catch his breath, his eyes still wide from the unexpected turn of events. "Well, I've gotta say, sweetheart, that was quite the show back there. You really let him have it, you got a mean hook princess." A warm flush of pride swept over you as you soaked in Eddie's praises. How long had you waited to hear him say something like that—to acknowledge you and gaze at you as if you were the most wonderful girl in the world? It was a feeling you had been yearning for so long, and if you were to die right now, you would die happy!

Eddie's warm, chocolate-coloured gaze landed on you, and it felt as though it softly swept over every inch of your being. He spoke, his voice filled with curiosity, "I don't think anyone was expecting Hawkins' princess to come to the defence of the 'freak.' You know they won't let you forget this, right? Why would you risk all that for little old me, Harrington?"

You let out a sigh, the weight of his inquisitive gaze pressing on you. As you closed your eyes briefly, you grappled with the emotions that had been swirling within you since the first time you had laid eyes on Eddie. A small smile crept onto your lips as you slowly opened your eyes, fixing them on the boy of your dreams. "You're worth it, Munson."

Eddie drew in a sharp breath, taking three steps closer to you. His large, warm hands, bearing tiny scars from playing the guitar, gently swept across your cheeks as he gazed intently into your eyes. "Do you mean that, Harrington? Because there's no going back if I kiss you right now—it's you and me, the princess and the 'freak.' You won’t climb back from that fall.”

You glanced at your right hand, the knuckles scraped and the skin raw, with a slight swelling on your wrist. "I think it's a little too late for that anyway," you sheepishly admitted. Eddie smiled warmly, his eyes filled with admiration, before gently taking your hand in his two larger ones. He slowly brought your bruised knuckles to his mouth, planting a soft kiss on each of them, causing your breath to hitch.

"Who knew that the princess of Hawkins High was Indiana’s future boxing champion," Eddie softly joked, his voice laced with affection. "I just feel bad for this pretty, soft hand – all bruised and battered to protect me, like the prettiest knight in pink armor coming to my rescue." You couldn't help but swoon at his words as Eddie continued to softly kiss your hand, his gaze slowly lifting to meet yours, his eyes filled with… Love? Tenderness? A girl could dream.

A warm smile curved across Eddie's lips, and he leaned in, capturing your mouth with his in a searing kiss. As you both savored each other, Eddie's hand slowly wrapped around the base of your neck, holding you close to him. As you were trying not to faint from the sheer pleasure this moment was bringing you, a flash of remembrance rushed through you, snapping you back from your trance and causing you to break the kiss and catch your breath. You whispered softly against Eddie's lips, "What about Chrissy?"

Eddie nuzzled your face with his nose, his lips brushing lightly against your skin. "What about her?" he retorted playfully. "I mean... I thought... I thought you had a thing for her," you admitted meekly.

Eddie smirked against your cheek. "If I did, I wouldn't be kissing you right now, right?" His voice held a teasing edge as he continued to shower your neck with tender kisses.

You closed your eyes, feeling a mix of contradicting emotions – wanting to keep going to feel more of him, wishing him to stop playing with your heart because you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. "I mean it, Eddie... I don't want to be your second choice."

Eddie stopped his ministrations and returned to your face, holding your gaze with his. "You were always my first choice, Eddie," you confessed, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. "And I don't think I could handle being your backup plan."

Eddie's whispers were tender as he wiped away the tears that had begun to roll down your cheeks. "Nononono, sweetheart. Don't cry, please," he implored softly. "You were always my first choice." His words held a reassuring sincerity that began to soothe your racing heart. But you wouldn’t be so easily swayed, as much as you loathed Jason Carver, you had witnessed first hand how Eddie seemed enraptured with Chrissy.

You huffed in disbelief, but Eddie insisted, urging you to meet his gaze. "No, it's true. Hey, look at me," he gently encouraged. "I never thought I would ever have a chance with a girl like you. You know, you're like my dream girl, right?" You gave him an uncertain look, still wrestling with your doubts. "You always stare at Chrissy, though. And you did ask me if she was still with Jason, remember?"

Eddie released your cheeks and took a step back, embarrassment tinging his cheeks as he used a piece of his shaggy hair to shield himself from you. "I wasn't looking at Chrissy. You're always with Chrissy, so I was looking at you," he admitted, his voice tinged with shyness. "And I only asked you that because I panicked. I was going to ask you out, but the guys had been teasing me for weeks, telling me I was too much of a coward to do it. I guess they were right because I chickened out."

As Eddie continued, his embarrassment grew, and he took another step back. He held the piece of hair in front of his face, as if to hide himself from you. "I've actually had a crush on you since last year," he confessed, his words shocking you.

"Are you joking?!" you blurted out, astonished.

He shook his head, his warm brown eyes holding your gaze. "Not at all, princess," he began with a soft smile. "It was last year. You were on your way back from cheer practice, and you were in a hurry, holding a huge backpack. It happened so fast that you didn't even realize a book had fallen out."

His eyes sparkled as he continued, his tone becoming more animated. "I saw it lying there, and curiosity got the best of me – I picked it up, and to my surprise, it was a copy of 'The Hobbit.’” He grinned as if sharing a secret. "I was planning to return it to you, honestly, but then, when I opened it, I saw that there was a bunch of notes in the margins." Eddie started grinning even more as he continued “All there in the margins, notes, thoughts, musings. It was like reading your mind with every turn of the page. Your insights, your emotions, your laughter, and even your frustrations were all there in the margins. I knew I had stumbled upon the most precious treasure in the universe – it was a private window into you."

Your breath hitched at his words, and as Eddie spoke, you felt a warmth spreading through you, "It felt like we were close," Eddie continued, his gaze never leaving yours. "I couldn't put the book down. It was like having a conversation with you, even when you weren't around. I realized how much we had in common, how you saw the world, and it fascinated me.”

The thought that Eddie had held onto that copy of 'The Hobbit,' with your notes and thoughts, all this time was both surprising and heartwarming. Damn, he was perfect.

"Fuck, I sound so creepy," Eddie confessed, breaking your reverie. He scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish.

But you weren’t creeped out, far from it. For the first time in your life, you felt completely understood by someone – inside and out. "No, Eddie," you whispered softly, your heart swelling with love. "You don't sound creepy at all. You sound... perfect." A sweet cocky grin got etched on Eddie’s lips “Perfect, eh?”

Getting overwhelmed by his stare, you tried to play it cool and diverted his question by teasingly asking, "So you’ve had a big fat crush on me for a while, right?"

Eddie chuckled, taking a step closer to you, his gaze locked on yours. "Don't get too high and mighty, princess," he said with a warm smile, his voice laced with adoration. "From the looks of it, you've got a pretty big crush on little old me too…"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you let out a soft giggle, feeling a delightful warmth in the pit of your stomach. "I can neither confirm nor deny that," you replied in a sing-song voice, your eyes never leaving his.

Eddie's smile deepened, his gaze filled with affection. With a tender touch, he placed his hands on your waist, and before you knew it, he had spun you around. You couldn't help but let out a joyful squeak as you twirled together in a sweet, romantic dance. As he gently lowered you back to the ground, his strong arms remained securely wrapped around your back, pulling you close.

In that intimate moment, it felt as though the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you entwined in each other's embrace. Your breaths synchronized, and you lost yourselves in each other's eyes, the unspoken promise of a beautiful future passing between you.

"Hey, Eddie," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath but filled with affection and longing.

Eddie's gaze softened even more, his eyes filled with tenderness as he held you close. "Yeah, princess?"

With a radiant smile, you leaned in closer to him, your heart singing with love. "I've got a big fat crush on you too."

A soft, contented sigh escaped Eddie's lips, and he held you even tighter as if he never wanted to let you go. "Good." And without another word, he pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. Nothing ever tasted sweeter.

“You gonna be alright sitting with the freaks now?” “As long as I sit with you Eddie, I could not care less.”

The fallen princess and the freak," you thought contentedly, "that has the ringing of a love story for the ages.” And all it took was that punch you threw at Jason Carver's face for you and Eddie to find your way to each other.

#eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fandom #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #chrissy cunningham #jason carver

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