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reinainaric · 3 months

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HATE THAT I LOVE YOU || part 2.

mean!ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

It's already a part of Sukuna's personality to be mean, always throwing insults at every person he finds annoying here and there. And you were no exception. You ran after him like a lovesick puppy, happily smiling at his rejections, confessing to him multiple times how much you like him, and Sukuna wanted so much to strangle you for your persistence.

But when you stopped showing interest, maybe... just maybe, Sukuna didn't like the sound of it.

contents: sukuna x reader, soft!reader, reader is oblivious to sukuna's insults, mean!sukuna, golden retriever x black cat trope, reader is a happy pill (not to sukuna tho, yet), hurt/slight angst, modern college AU, sukuna is in a band, bassist!sukuna, not proofread, jjk characters in a band, siblings yuji and sukuna

warning: cursing

links: < part 1 > > < part 3 >

Note: This is turning into a series help 😭

***

It didn't sit right with Sukuna how you became so quiet throughout their band practice.

Not a word of appreciation. Not one compliment whenever the band finishes a song. On top of that, you wouldn't even look at him.

That pissed him more. He's been glancing at you several times, thinking about how he's supposed to say sorry about what happened, when he himself is not even an apologetic person.

He watched you look at Nanami, looked at Suguru and Choso, even smiled at Yuji at one point. But not to him.

Did it bother Sukuna so much how your eyes looked tired? How your eyes were so red from crying? How your silence was killing him? Two days have already passed since the incident, and you're still crying over it?

It was definitely affecting not just him, but also the whole band. Their own manager, who's always so happy and full of sunshine, was just looking down at her feet, biting her lip as she watched everyone do their thing. Everyone looked at Sukuna like he should do something, and it annoyed him how he knows that he really should, but it wasn't the right time yet.

So when the band finally bid their goodbyes and left the room, he was quick to his feet to close the door, locking the two of you inside.

Your eyes widened as you watched as his back tensed, before he turned to you with fire in his eyes.

"What's wrong with you?"

You gulped at his question.

What is he talking about anyway? What 'wrong' did he mean? Did he mean your behaviour for always being a nuisance with him? Or did he mean it somewhere between the lines of 'what's bothering you'?

You purse your lips, looking away from him in confusion. You couldn't even look at his face. You're just so afraid you'll give in. "What do you mean?"

"Don't act all innocent with me, brat." He spat, taking slow steps towards you, making you walk backwards until you felt your back hit the wall. "You've been silent all day, and everyone seemed to be affected. Stop being a fucking baby."

If you didn't know what he was talking about minutes ago, you definitely knew now. Of course, you're not that dumb to not see how the band had an awkward atmosphere moments ago, but you didn't know that it was because of you.

"I'm sorry-”

You stopped when he held your chin with his fingers, his other hand leaned on the wall behind you, locking you in. "Better keep your mouth shut if you're only going to apologize again. I'm so sick of your sorries."

Your mouth parted to speak, and you swear you saw Sukuna's eyes looking at them before returning back to look at your eyes. Your face started to heat up, and your hands were trembling at your sides.

His face leaned in closer, his breath practically fanning over the skin of your neck. "If it's about what happened, then..." He took a strand of your hair between his fingers, twirling it. "I'm... sorry... princess… Is that… what you wanted to hear?" He said it so slow, and so taunting. Like he was teasing you for your vulnerability.

His thumb brushed your lower lip for a moment, and it made you shiver as he straightened his composure, taking a step backward with a smirk.

"Don't expect me to repeat what I said, brat. I better not see you crying tomorrow."

•

Did his apology make you feel better? It definitely didn't.

But did it mess with your head? Yes, it did.

You were restless the whole night, the scene replaying in your head over and over again. And it's not helping you to move on from Sukuna.

In fact, it only made your feelings worse. When you remember how he got so close to you, his face almost touching yours, it's like your heart was about to burst from your chest.

The next day, you were definitely back to your jolly self though. But the difference? You are avoiding Sukuna now.

As Sukuna pulled up in the school parking lot, his eyes roamed around to look for a certain person who he expected to be waiting for him. But no. You were not there. He thought that maybe you just came in late, but when he saw you at the school corridors, walking right past him, his heart drums on his chest nervously like a wake-up call.

He shouldn't be affected. No, he shouldn't be feeling that strange feeling tugging at his chest. Maybe he just needs a cup of coffee to ease them.

He didn't like this feeling.

Band practice came, and of course, you two are bound to be in the same room. Everyone went in, all feeling better than yesterday to see you back with your usual energy. The mood felt lighter as you conversed with everyone, and still not to him.

As you walked around the room, you felt someone's eyes following you, but you paid it no mind.

•

Why do you always have to see Sukuna in the practice room when everyone still hasn't arrived?

You found Sukuna once again, in his usual spot in the corner of the room. His hands were busy playing his guitar, but stopped when both your eyes darted at each other.

You blinked a few times, before muttering in a low voice, "H-hi."

It was just for formality anyway. Even though you can't look him straight in the eye anymore, you still have to keep some kind of professionalism as the manager of the band.

You sat at a chair on the other side of the room, keeping a wide distance.

Sukuna stared at you, almost piercing a hole in your head as you pulled out your phone to distract yourself.

Usually, Sukuna wouldn't even care if people watch him play with his guitar. However, it was a little different with you now, and he's not able to think straight anymore, so that made him stop doing whatever he was doing.

It was so strange for Sukuna. How you wouldn't even say some nonsense to him, like you usually do.

He wanted to ask, what is really wrong with you this time?

Why aren't you bothering him? You weren't blabbering anymore. You don't wait for him outside school. You don't give him chocolates or any snacks. You don't tell him how much you like him in front of everyone. You don't compliment his talents even though he was just playing a guitar.

The things you used to do, in which you're not doing anymore, was clenching something in his guts.

You weren't trying to get his attention, and he was wanting to get yours.

“Brat.”

It was like an automatic response for you to look, and it almost made him chuckle at your flushed face. It was a nickname that he always called you, insulting you yet you got used to it.

Your face heated up as your back straightened on your seat. “Y-yes?”

Sukuna stared at you long enough, his brows meeting each other. He was trying to read you, but it was already obvious to him how you're putting a wall between you two.

And he didn't really like it.

“Finally given up, huh?”

His tone was sour, like he disapproves of the idea of what he's trying to say.

You only looked at him confused as he didn't care to explain his words any further when his eyes darted back to his guitar, and continued to busy himself.

The silence had never felt so suffocating before until now.

•

The school fest came by quickly, and the band was busy rehearsing backstage.

Sukuna was busy, and so were you as you ordered people around where to place some equipment. It was a public show anyway, the school allowed outsiders since it was their big founding anniversary that they celebrate every year.

Of course, you're not only busying yourself with handling the show, you have to keep the members on track as well.

You were holding bottles of water for the band members in your small hands, since the cafeteria said they ran out of bags, you were forced to carry them in your arms.

As you pushed the door where the members were staying out, a figure was also about to exit, making you crash into his chest.

Almost.

You almost dropped the bottles if the man in front of you didn't hold your waist to steady your body, his body pressing against the bottles in your arms between the two of you just so they wouldn't fall.

You sucked in a breath as you lifted your eyes, meeting Sukuna's.

“Careful.” He whispered. He took the bottles from your hand with ease, opening the door for you as he placed them on the table for everyone to see.

But you couldn't even move in your spot.

You felt some kind of electric shock lingering in your waist, your heart beating rapidly.

•

The school fest ended well with cheers and shouting. Everyone was pleased at the performance, and it was finally time to rest.

You slumped on the couch, while everyone was organising their bags, and placing their guitars on its case.

You were breathing heavily since you've been running around backstage the whole performance, since you had to make sure there were no technical errors happening around.

You were so busy with yourself that you didn't even notice Sukuna taking a seat beside you.

He grabbed one bottle of water, opening it easily, and then, surprisingly, handed it to you.

He didn't even know what he was doing.

You were surprised, and it didn't even look like he was aware of what he did.

With shaky hands, you accepted the water, muttering a small thanks to him as you drank.

But even the water couldn't calm your beating heart.

•

The week ended, and the band decided to go to a bar to party for their successful show. Everyone was there–Nanami, Suguru, Choso, Yuji, and Sukuna–they all gathered at a table drinking some shots when you saw them.

Yuji already looked tipsy, Nanami was watching over everyone while still drinking himself, Suguru was chatting with Choso and Sukuna. You were also feeling the alcohol getting into your system as you talked with Nanami.

“Manager! Let's dance!” Yuji called you. He was smiling from ear to ear, his face red from the alcohol.

“Of course, Yuji.”

Yuji pulled your wrist as you two walked to the dance floor. He was jumping around and moving his body to the rhythm of an upbeat song, and you did the same to synchronise his movements. You both were laughing and talking despite the blaring music that played so loudly. As Yuji kept handing you glasses after glasses of liquor, it was pretty clear that you two were getting drunk already.

You stopped your movements as you held Yuji’s shoulder, shouting closely to his ear. “I'm going to the bathroom!”

Yuji nodded, giving you a two thumbs up, his eyes sparkling because of the lights illuminating the bar.

Believe it or not, Sukuna was watching over the two of you the whole time, the alcohol also clouding his system at one point. He's just lucky that he had a high alcohol tolerance, so he was still sane when he followed your disappearing figure from the crowd.

You stumbled outside the bathroom after you were done. Your throat was burning from all the alcohol you consumed, and your feet were hurting because of the heels you wore after jumping and dancing around like a maniac. You were drunk, and it was so obvious by the way that you walked as you struggled to keep your balance.

You should thank your guardian angels that Sukuna followed you, quickly holding you in place by the waist before you can even face palm on the floor.

“You're drunk,” he grunted, looking down at you.

You mumbled incoherent words, your hands touched his wrist that was touching your waist. His body was pressed against you as you tried to keep standing on your feet, but you were feeling weak. There was a radiating sensual heat between you, and it was making your cheeks heat up.

“Sukuna…” Your words were slurred, and even sounded sleepy. “Sukuna… why are there… two Sukuna in my eyes?”

Sukuna's gripped on you tighten, knowing how much you've gotten pretty drunk, he was pretty sure you wouldn't be able to get home properly in this state.

“Come on,” he held your arms, steadying you. “I should take you home.”

“But the party's not over–”

“Shut up."

You frowned, letting yourself be pulled by Sukuna as he led you out of the bar. With one hand, he quickly got his keys from his pocket and clicked something in it as you two walked at the quiet parking lot. The car made a sound, and you two walked towards his car, with you almost tripping on your feet.

“‘Kuna…” You whined softly, your hands pulling him to stop. “W-where are you… hic… t-taking me?”

“Shut up and just stay still, would ya?” He hissed as he pushed your back against his car.

Your vision was blurry, but you still somehow saw Sukuna knelt down in front of you as his hands grazed your ankle. Your eyes are half-closed as you feel Sukuna taking the straps off of your heels, lifting your feet up to take off your heels on both your feet.

You breathed heavily as he stood up, your head tilting to the side as you stared up at him. “What are you doing to me…” You whispered, lips pouting.

He raised an eyebrow, his one hand was carrying your heels and the other was placed on your waist. “Get in the car. Now.”

You faked a gasped, head falling on his chest. “Why are you always so mean to me?” You slurred, your weak fists punching his chest.

Sukuna took a heavy breath as he caught your fists in his hands, unclasping them, and then lifting your chin up with the same hand that was holding yours. “You're such a pain in the ass, you know that?”

Your lips pouted even more as you stole your hand from his grasp, and then poking his cheek with your pointer finger. “Ha! You're the one who's always stubborn! I don't like you! No, no… I don't like you! You're bad!” You poked his cheek after each word.

Sukuna's jaw clenched as he caught your wrist once again. He leaned in closer, making you move your head backward,

“You don't like me anymore, doll?” He chuckled devilishly.

“Yes… n-no… yes…”

Sukuna's grin grew wider as he watched your drunk and fragile state. You looked so small beneath him he could crush you so easily. And it fascinates him, entertains him even as he sees another side of you that looked so weak for him.

He let out a hum, his face a few inches from your ear. "Should I change that?"

***

So... come back for part 3!

• Part 1

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boiohboii · 10 months

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The surprise guest (who had to be protected by the host)

Lando Norris x Leclerc! Reader

After Lando Norris had a make out session with YN Leclerc on his stream, it hadn't been intentional, he had been too scared to come face to face with any of his girlfriend's three older brothers. But when his girlfriend's mother invites him over for dinner, he can't just ignore her

in which Pascale Leclerc invites her daughter's boyfriend (or as she likes to call him, her fourth son) over for a family dinner

N.B: I feel like the humor isn't what most of you expected and I am so sorry, I swear I am funnier irl 😭 hope you guys like it... special thanks to @glai1023-blog and @flowerchild-96 for the idea of mama leclerc doting on Lando

For context

The brothers' reactions to the steamy stream

Social media reactions

YN had always been close to her mother, she always told her about her new hair ideas, how she wants to cook a new recipe and her crushes, so when YN started dating Lando Norris her mother was the first person to know (with the promise of not telling her brothers)

Pascale had met Lando quite a lot in the 9 months that the young couple's relationship had stayed secret from her brothers. To say Pascale adored the young Brit was an understatement.

Pascale Leclerc loved Lando Norris like her own son; she learned all his favorite foods, what are his preferred desserts and the meals he hadn't been able to taste before (so that she could make it for him)

With that being said, the Leclerc parent is always big on family. She had instilled in her childrens' head that even if you are busy, you must have a day each month for a family dinner and that all five members of the Leclerc family must be present.

Except for this month, six members were present at that dinner, and three of them were ready to kick the intruder out if it not had been for their mother hitting them on the back of their heads.

It had all started out normal- well as normal as it could be when just a week ago you had seen your sister making out with her boyfriend on live.

Pascale had been in the kitchen making dinner with the help of YN while the three male Leclercs were too traumatised by last week's events to face their sister. It's not that they didn't want to ask her questions, they really did, they wanted to interrogate her, but whenever they catch a glimpse of her they remember the phone screens showing her and her boyfriend.

Boyfriend. That was one person they would love to meet. Charles could probably know where Lando Norris is whenever he wanted, that was the perks of having the same circle of friends, team workers who were also friends and same bosses. Did he want to talk to him? No. Did he want to beat him? Yes.

The doorbell interrupted the brothers creative imagination of how they could kill the British driver. As Arthur was closest to the door he went up to see who it was, not expecting the one who they murdered 100 different ways in their haeds to be standing at the door with 2 bouquets of flowers, a box of chocolate and a box of what appeared to be a cake.

"Oh, umm, hi?"

Lando was about to piss his pants, he saw that expression change on Arthur's face, and he was the youngest of his girlfriend's brothers. With every second Arthur stared at him his heart rate increased with sweat filling his palms as his throat tightened up.

"Who is it Arthur?"

Shit, fuck. Lando knew that voice all too well, and he was not ready to have his head nailed to the front of the paddock for everyone to see.

"Oh dear, hello my son, Arthur move out of the way."

The gentle voice of Pascale Leclerc stopped any and all movements in the living room.

"SON!"

The three Leclercs exclaimed in sync, looking at the young brit with wide eyes and clenched jaws.

The boys' anger increased as they watched their mother fuss over the boy, thanking him for the flowers as she called their sister to place them in a vase, giving him a hug and kissing his cheeks.

"Oh lovely, you didn't have to bring anything. Is that your favorite dessert then?"

Lando was all too aware of the three pairs of eyes staring at him, and if looks could kill he'd be 18 feet under. Gulping, he gave Pascale an awkward smile, too scared to actually utter a word.

Noticing his trembling hands and terrified glances at her sons, Pascale glared at the young men "you three! Stop it!"

"But mum-"

"No! I don't want to hear a word out of any of you if it's not going to be nice! You should respect you sister's boyfriend and my guest!"

"It's a family dinner! You never invited any of our girlfriends to a family dinner before"

"Oh my god," now that's a familiar voice Lando loves hearing "stop being babies about it."

Moving closed, YN took the flowers from Lando's hands "ohhh, mum, he got you your favourite!"

"Thank you love." Giving him a peck on the lips, YN smiled at him, and upon hearing her brothers' groans and complains she gave him a wink before kissing him again.

■■♡■■

The three Leclerc brothers were like Hyenas, waiting for their mother to stop protecting their pray so they could have a word (with their fists.)

Sitting at the couch facing the open kitchen they watched as their mother dotted over the British driver, stretching her hand for him to taste the food on the spoon before giving her a wide smile

"You three look like Scar." YN teased as she took a seat besides Charles

"Mon ange," Charles started as he rotated in his seat making him face to face with his sister "please, why didn't you tell us?"

"YN, Lando Norris, really?" Arthur whined as he looked at his younger sister, waiting for an explanation of hers.

"You three are really insufferable," YN stated as she looked at them with a devilish smirk "if you guys are wondering why i didn't tell you, it's just cause I know you three will be earing my ear off about our relationship and yes Arthur, Lando Norris, he makes me happy and he kisses me oh so-"

"LALALALALALAAA" Arthur screamed at the top of his lungs, making his sister laugh while their mother scolded them for the noise

"No, but really," YN took a sip of water "he is really nice to me, he treats me really well and he is so respectful-"

"Oh yeah, making out on live is oh so respectful of him" Lorenzo rolled his eyes then glared at the young boy in the kitchen, getting head pats from their mother like a golden retriever.

"Oh god, don't remind me man" Charles groaned as the image he tried so hard to erase came back much more vibrant and clearer, as if the presence of Lando just solidified it in his brain.

"Okay listen," YN huffed as she crossed her arms "if you don't like him then okay, fine, I will end it before it goes any further, but it was an honest mistake on both of out parts. We're not into that kind of thing."

"God, will you stop doing that!"

"Do you want to tramatise us?"

"Oh god, I did not need to know anything about this."

Hearing her brothers whine and groan from her teasing brings YN the greatest of joys. Was she planning on actually breaking things off for her brothers? Hell no, they're not little princesses they can keep their emotions in check.

"Mon ange, are you really sure that you like him?"

"Yes!" YN insisted as she looked at him like he grew 2 heads "will you just please get to know him?"

Sighing Charles bit his tongue, not wanting to actually upset his sister with what he really wanted to say.

"Okay mon ange, I'll talk to him and I'll make sure everything is normal," Charles got up to make his way to his mother who was now in a matching apron with Lando as he listened to her every word, basking up the praises and head pats given to him "just please, if he hurts you or if you feel like you aren't his top priority don't stick around okay. You are worth so much more than a race driver."

"Aren't you one?"

"Exactly."

With that, Charles left his siblings heading off to his mother with a pout as he spotted her patting the Brit's cheek with a full smile

"God, he's so whipped for her." Arthur told his brother, shaking his head.

"Yeah well, I told him it'd bite him in the ass someday."

"Hey! I'm not that bad!"

"YN," Lorenzo looked at her with a blank expression "you take full advantage of it and you know it."

■■♡■■

It had been an hour and now the family of five and their guest are sitting at the dinner table, having their first bite of the homemade dinner.

"Oh, this tastes phenomenal Mrs Leclerc. I hadn't had that in a while"

"Oh dear, I'm so glad you like it!" Pascale cooed over the young boy, getting up to place more for him on his plate "YN told me it's one of your favourites."

"Thank you so much darling." Lando smiled at YN, feeling more at ease with the glares sent his way as Pascale Leclerc glared right back at her sons.

"Mum," Lorenzo started as he looked at the food in distaste "I don't eat that, you know."

"Well," the mother smiled at her son sarcastically, making sure to get her point across "if you don't like it, then don't eat."

"Oh, c'est brutal maman." Arthur murmured under his breath, looking at his oldest sibling in pity

("Oh, that's brutal mum")

"I said no French!" Pascale warned her youngest son before turning to her now favorite son "tell me Lando, do you like Vanilla cakes?"

"Not really no, but YN told me it's your favorite so I bought it from what I also believe to be your favorite dessert shop."

"Oh dear, you really are my favorite," four voices of a 'mum!' yelled in the dinning room which did not take any of Pascale's attention away from the British young man "you're going to make me swoon."

"Oh my god," YN whispered to her brothers "we lost her."

"Yeah well," Lorenzo grumbled at his sister "he is your boyfriend"

"I lost my mum to my boyfriend."

"Oh, he went out of his way to go to her favourite shop," Arthur stated "she's not letting him go anywhere."

"I think you lost both of them mon ange."

■■♡■■

{Taglist: @idaesrhy @masonspulisic}

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #f1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x leclerc!reader #lando norris x leclerc reader #charles leclerc sister #charles leclerc x sister!reader #leclerc!reader #arthur leclerc x sister reader #older brother arthur #lorenzo leclerc x sister reader #lorenzo leclerc #older brother leclerc #older brother charles #brother!charles leclerc

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glitterypinkconverse · 10 months

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can you write one where y/n flirts with earth 42 miles and shit but hes not into it at first but when she flirts with someone else he gets jealous? then at the end she confronts him and they get into a fight then he confesses during the argument

─ ⊹ ⊱ JEALOUSY

e-42!miles x fem!reader

summary after many months of miles not showing interest in you, you finally decide to move on. but he’s not having it.

request by anonymous ! 🎧 been away by brent faiyaz

a/n this was so rushed i’m sorry 😭😭 you can tell at the ending but it’s been a while since i’ve done one of these writings so 🤷‍♀️ enjoy!!

warnings angst, jealousy

“Morning Miles!” You chirped, watching as he came to sit next to you for Spanish class. He ignored you like he normally did, causing you to roll your eyes.

You’ve been getting tired of him ignoring you constantly despite sending visible hints that you, the only girl in the whole entire school who would talk to him, likes him. Something about his snarky behavior, his accented voice, and his overall appearance drew you closer to him.

It all started when you guys were assigned to sit next to each other resulting in becoming Spanish partners, which made you slowly develop feelings towards him.

And him too.

Though he never expressed it, he loved the comments you made to him, the way your eyes glistened when talking to anyone (he especially loved it when they sparkled when talking to him), and your overall personality attracted him towards you. And he didn’t know why.

What he did know though, was that something was off. From his peripheral vision, he didn’t see you sneak any glances at him. He didn’t hear your voice the whole class apart from the good morning you said to him, and when it was time for class to be dismissed you didn’t say goodbye to him.

You quickly got out of your seat, rushing towards your friends and completely ignoring him. He shrugged it off as you had something important to tell them, but this treatment went on for a week.

You completely ignored him, and he hated it so very much. Even when you had to turn and talk to him, you didn’t say anything to him except for the few words in Spanish you two had to recite to each other.

He got curious one day after class and followed you the way you used to do to him. But a few steps behind, of course.

The sight he was met with was his girl flirting with another guy, laughing and having the same sparkle in your eyes the way you do with everyone else.

It all hit him like bricks when you reached up and moved the hair out of that random guy's face, and topped it off with a giggle that you would only give him. He clenched his jaw and walked away, attempting to keep his calm.

He couldn’t bear you flirting with other guys that wasn’t him, he couldn’t bear the thought of you talking to other guys that wasn’t him.

He wanted to be yours, and he wanted you to be his.

A week passed with this treatment, and it was paining you as much as it was paining Miles.

You could feel him getting cold again, and you hated it. He probably saw you flirting with that other guy, but you didn’t care. That’s what you told yourself, at least.

“Miles,” you said in the middle of class out of nowhere, causing Miles to become curious.

“Hm?” Miles responded, his usual only response.

“Can we talk after class?”

“If you’re not talking to that white guy, sure,” his words were like poison. He was watching you? You ignored it and rolled your eyes and huffed, his usual behavior coming back.

The rest of the class felt like it went on forever, your leg anxiously bouncing and two eyes pierced through your head the whole class. His eyes.

You knew that the conversation you two were about to have would either result in going back to completely avoiding each other, or maybe it would work it out for you two.

However, you couldn’t get your mind off of him. Miles was the only thought for the rest of the class, and it didn’t help that you felt his sharp gaze on you the rest of class.

It was only when the bell rang you were dismissed from your thoughts, quickly turning to Miles who was already staring at you and motioning for you to lead the way.

“What’s with the hurrying mamí?” He asked as you were leading him through the crowded hallway, although he was dying to hear what you wanted to say to him.

Maybe he could finally tell you how he felt.

You came to a stop when you two exited the school, Miles turning to you.

“Why are you such an ass?” You suddenly asked, causing Miles to be taken aback.

“I’m the ass? The hell are you talking about?” He questioned back, a cold glare on his face.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about! You ignore me the whole year, and then you follow me when I talk to some guy that I barely know.” You crossed your arms.

“Yeah, cause, that guy isn’t good for you. He’s bad news, Y/N.”

“You don’t know shit. You can’t be saying this shit while you don’t even speak a single word to me.”

He scoffed, then crossed his arms mimicking you. “Yeah? I talk to you plenty. More than I talk to anyone else, in fact.” He mimicked.

You two were now causing a scene outside the school, but you didn’t care. You had to let him know how you felt. Even if you still had feelings for this cold blooded ass, you were sick of the way he was constantly ignoring you.

“Miles for the love of god, I’ve given you so many signs! But you haven’t reciprocated any of them! So for you to be constantly following me, looking at me, and getting jealous of other guys is bullshit!”

He was quiet for a few seconds, which made you even more angry. How could he be quiet while you were being so vulnerable to him?

“Maybe I just feel protective over you,” he shrugged. You were left agape, now knowing how to respond. His lips couldn’t help but form into a smirk, knowing he said the right thing. He sighed before he started knowing you wouldn’t respond, “Escucha Y/N, I might not show my feelings well but I know damn well you like me, and it just so happens that I like you too.”

You were shocked, this emotionless man felt the same way that you felt about him? You had to be dreaming.

“Cut it out, Miles, we both know you’re lying.”

“Mamí, you’re the only girl who talks to me, who gives me attention. You happen to be pretty cute too,” he smirked. He knew you weren’t going to respond, so he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and guided you out onto the sidewalk.

“Let’s get food, shall we?”

#x reader #across the spiderverse #miles molares #miles morales x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales #42 miles morales #miles g morales #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #prowler miles #miles morales prowler

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spanktony · 7 months

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MISSED OPPORTUNITIES - maddy perez

summary: you can paired up with maddy for a project, little do you know there’s some lingering feelings in the air.

words: 3.8k

warnings: 18+, riding, g!p reader, reader being oblivious, rue, elliot & reader talk abt pegging and b*ssy 😭

notes: might be ooc maddy or bad dialogue, haven’t wrote for my baby in a while! sorry!

navigation. request.

"Maddy and Y/N."

Maddy didn't exactly know you, but yes, she's seen you. She had noticed you from a distance, watching as you'd come to school on your skateboard nearly every day, and on the days you didn't, you'd gotten a ride from Elliot.

Then you'd proceed to come into fifth period with baggy pants, a beanie on your head, and a nonchalant attitude.

Maddy wondered what it would be like to strike up a conversation with you. But, Maddy couldn't gather the courage to approach you, fearing rejection or awkwardness.

Maddy often found herself stealing glances at you during class, watching you bop your head to the music playing through your earphones.

Maddy couldn't help but wonder what kind of music you were listening to and if you'd ever consider sharing your playlist with her.

You take your wired airpod out of your ear, making sure you heard your teacher correctly. You glance around the classroom, catching Maddy's eye. She quickly looks away, blushing slightly.

"So! Now to go over your assignment." You lean back in your chair, listening to the instructions your teacher is giving. "As we all know, spring break is coming up, and I'm sure many of you have exciting plans. Although, the school wants to do something fun to celebrate the break. We thought it would be a great idea for you guys to come up with an event-type fundraiser for the school. It could be anything from a bake sale to a talent show, as long as it's creative and engaging."

Your teacher pauses, scanning the room for reactions. "Then, once you finish your assignment, the school will vote for the best event idea, and we will make it happen during spring break. This way, you will not only have a chance to showcase your creativity but also contribute to the school community in a meaningful way. So, let's brainstorm and come up with some amazing event ideas that will make this spring break even more memorable!"

Your teacher claps, encouraging the class to get up and start sharing their event ideas with their partner. The class gets up, except for you. You hesitate for a moment, feeling a bit unsure about Maddy being your partner.

Now, you didn't know Maddy personally, but you had heard some rumors about her, and you knew her boyfriend, Nate, a dickhead who'd often cause trouble. One time, Nate chased you with her truck, nearly running you over as you frantically tried to escape on your skateboard.

You never talked to Nate nor even looked his way, but he had always given you menacing looks whenever you crossed paths, along with the rest of the football team. It was tiring, annoying, and made you feel constantly on edge whenever you were near them.

You're knocked out of your thoughts when Maddy appears in front of your sight, a slight smile on her lips. "Y/N, right?" You nod, sitting up in your seat. "Yeah..." Maddy chuckles and nods, her smile widening.

"Were you gonna keep thinking about the great depression or come over to my desk so we can discuss this project?" You crack a smile at Maddy's playful comment and quickly gather your belongings, making your way over to her desk.

You're at Maddy's house. It's been a week since you've been working on the project together. Maddy had a completely different personality from her boyfriend. She was inviting but at the same time closed off, she'd open up about her interests and passions but rarely talked about her personal life or emotions.

You move to the edge of the bed, taking your notebook with you. "So...uh, so far we have a spring dance, a photography exhibit, and a...twerk party? Did you add that one?"

Maddy giggles, hiding her face behind her hands. "No, that one was all you," she says, her laughter contagious. "I swear I didn't write that." You can't help but smile at Maddy's infectious laughter. It's refreshing to see her so carefree and playful, even if she still keeps certain aspects of herself guarded.

Maddy crawls to the edge of the bed, leaning in to read the notebook. You hold in your breath, her being so close to you, sending a rush of warmth through your body. "You can add karaoke, that sounds fun," Maddy suggests, you nod, taking the pencil from behind your ear and jotting down her suggestion in the notebook.

Maddy bites down on her lip, watching you with a smile. "What...?" You whisper, confused and intrigued by her sudden change in demeanor. She leans in closer, her eyes dancing across your face.

"Do you always ride your skateboard to school? I've been meaning to ask." You feel a flutter of excitement at Maddy's interest in your daily routine. "Yeah, I've been skateboarding to school for a while now. I have a car, but it's more fun, to be honest," you reply, fiddling with the pencil in your hands.

Maddy's eyes fall to your skateboard propped on her wall before falling back on you. "You look hot when you ride it too." Her compliment catches you off guard, and a blush creeps up on your cheeks. "Thanks, Maddy," you say with a shy smile.

"We can take a break," Maddy suggests, taking the notebook out of your lap and setting it aside. You lay back against Maddy's bed, and she does the same, turning her head towards you.

"Any more ideas?" You ask, turning your head towards her. Maddy smiles, "Girl, what part of a break don't you understand?" You chuckle at Maddy's response, your face heating up. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Maddy reassures you, her eyes twinkling with amusement. You turn on your side, propping your head up with your hand. Maddy does the same, jokingly mocking you. "You know, I was thinking we should totally have a secret handshake. Something so ridiculous, only we'd get it."

You laugh at Maddy's suggestion, imagining the two of you coming up with a silly secret handshake. "Like what?"

Maddy sits up, sitting on her feet. You sit up as well, sitting criss-cross apple sauce. Maddy softly takes your hand, "We could dap up..." She moves your hand to the side and starts doing a series of intricate hand movements, "then do a link our pinkies...and seal it with a kiss."

You watch in awe as Maddy effortlessly demonstrates the complex sequence of hand movements. The idea of sealing the secret handshake with a kiss makes you blush, feeling as if you were floating on cloud nine.

"Ready?" Maddy asks, her eyes filled with excitement. You nod eagerly, beginning the intricate hand movements. As you mirror Maddy's movements, your fingers fumble at first, but with each repetition, you start to gain confidence and precision, sealing it with a kiss every time.

"Maddy!" Someone shouts from behind, interrupting your secret handshake. Startled, you quickly break away, turning around to see Maddy's mom at the door. "Dinners ready."

You exchange a sheepish glance with Maddy. "I should probably get going." You say to Maddy, glancing at her door, her mom now gone. Maddy nods understandingly, a hint of disappointment in her eyes. "Yeah, I guess we can finish practicing our handshake later," she says with a small smile.

You reluctantly leave, and you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the next time you see Maddy.

You lean against Rue's locker, watching the students pass by in the bustling hallway. Thoughts of Maddy replay in your mind making you smile to yourself. Maybe there's something more between you two than just friendship.

But your smile fades, remembering Nate Jacobs. We're they still together? How bad would it be if you did try to pursue Maddy?

Regardless of the bad thoughts running through your head, you can't deny the growing connection you feel towards her, leaving you torn between taking a chance or playing it safe.

You take out your airpod, glancing between Elliot and Rue. "Guys...am I attractive?" Elliot and Rue stop their conversation, exchanging puzzled looks. "Yes," Elliot simply says.

"I'd say so, yes," Rue adds, nodding her head.

Their affirmations boost your confidence, but a part of you still questions if their opinions are biased. Nevertheless, their words provide a small glimmer of hope that pursuing something with Maddy might not be as complicated as you initially thought.

"Let's say...there's this girl, right?" They both nod, and you continue. "And...she's like...giving... I want you, but I don't know if you want me vibes, you know?" Elliot raises an eyebrow while Rue stares at you, waiting for you to elaborate.

"Like! I know she likes likes me, but I don't know how to let her know I like like her." You pause for a moment, trying to find the right words to convey your dilemma. "It's like we're both playing this game and we're afraid to make the first move because we don't want to get rejected or ruin our friendship."

Rue shrugs. "Sounds like you both need a little push," she suggests. "Maybe stop being a little bitch and make a move?" You chuckle nervously at Rue's straightforward advice, appreciating her bluntness. "I guess you're right," you reply.

Elliot puts his hands on his hips. "But are you not curious as to who she's talking about?" Elliot asks Rue, raising an eyebrow.

"It's probably BB." You grimace, "That's not funny, Rue." Elliot tilts his head, confused. "BB? Like, the vape addict, BB?" Rue nods at Elliot, confirming his suspicions.

"You're gross..." He mutters, frowning at you. You make a blank face, "It's not BB, bro."

Elliot puts a hand over his heart. "Oh, thank god." "Who is it then?" Elliot asks, his curiosity piqued. You pause for a moment, debating whether or not to reveal the truth. "Uh..."

Just then, Maddy walks up to you, smiling slightly. "Hey, Y/N." You smile, giving the girl a small wave. "Hey, Rue and Elliot," Maddy adds, earning tight-lipped smiles and nods from the two.

Maddy then holds out her hand, and you're surprised she'd wanna do the handshake in front of Elliot and Rue. You quickly glance at them before reluctantly taking Maddy's hand and reciprocating the handshake, indeed ending it with a kiss.

While you release your grip, you notice a flicker of confusion in Elliot's eyes, but he remains silent. Rue, on the other hand, seems unfazed and continues to observe the interaction with a calm expression.

"Walk me to class?" Maddy asks. You hesitate for a moment, aware of the potential consequences of being seen together, but ultimately decide to go along with it. "Sure," you respond, offering her a small smile as the two of you start walking towards her class.

As expected, Nate Jacobs passed the two of you without acknowledging your presence. He keeps his gaze straight ahead, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. You turn around to see if he's still watching, but he's already disappeared into the crowd of students. You feel a sense of relief, grateful that he didn't make a scene or confront you about being with Maddy.

Elliot takes a hit of his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air. Rue lets out a sigh. "I can't believe a community service event won against your and Maddy's spring dance."

You shrug. "I don't really care. I still got the A." Elliot nods. "So, do you and Maddy still talk? Or have you been talking during the break?"

You hum, "Yeah, we'll Facetime a bit and hang out every now and then." Elliot raises an eyebrow. "Interesting. Are you two just friends, or is there something more going on?"

"Just friends." You confirm. Rue cuts in, "Because you're a little bitchhhh..." You roll your eyes at Rue's comment. "Aren't you the one who nearly skipped town with Jules?"

"Yeah, well, that's different. Jules and I have a deeper connection," Rue retorts defensively. You shake your head, not wanting to get into an argument with Rue. "Whatever."

You glance at Elliot, hoping to change the subject. "So, Elliot, what about you? Are you seeing anyone special?" Elliot chuckles and shakes his head. "Nope, just enjoying the single life for now."

"I think he secretly wants to have a threesome with Jules and me." You and Elliot burst into laughter at Rue's comment, finding it amusing but also slightly uncomfortable. "I think you and Jules want me to want to have a threesome with you guys so you can feel good about yourselves."

Rue raises an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, is that what you think? You're totally wrong."

"What if we had a threesome?" Elliot suggests, jokingly. Rue laughs. "Yeah, and we just pegged Elliot the entire time." Elliot joins in on the laughter but quickly interjects, "Woah, woah! Why me?"

Rue smirks mischievously. "Well, you did bring up the idea, didn't you? It's only fair that you take the spotlight." Elliot's face turns slightly red as he stammers, "I-I was just kidding! I didn't actually mean it!"

You grimace, "Enough about pegging! I just got reminded of Silento."

"Silento? What does he have to do with this conversation?" Rue asks, raising an eyebrow.

Elliot mouths, "Bussy," and Rue frowns, fake gagging.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, distracting you from the strange conversation. You quickly pull it out to see a message from Maddy, smiling at the message.

maddy - wyd

"Maddy just texted me, what am I doing?" Rue lets out a dramatic gasp. "She's a wyd warrior? Brace yourself, Y/N." You chuckle at Rue's dramatic reaction.

you - nm, u?

maddy - home alone and extremely bored

maddy - you wanna come over?

"Holy shit." Elliot is nearly breaking his neck to look at your phone screen. "Maddy wants you to come over? She def wants to fuck." You raise an eyebrow at Elliot's assumption and shake your head.

"No she doesn't." You look at Elliot who stares at you with a raised eyebrow. "She doesn't!"

Rue joins in, "Then she would've asked for Cassie. Not you." Elliot nods in agreement. "And she's home alone."

You consider their points for a moment, realizing that they may have a valid argument. Anyway, you still believe that Maddy's intention is simply to alleviate her boredom. "Well, maybe she just feels more comfortable hanging out with me," you suggest.

"Why are you plotting your own downfall?" Rue raises an eyebrow, questioning your reasoning. Elliot chimes in, "If Maddy wanted company, she could have invited anyone else. It seems weird that she specifically asked for you."

you - omw

You get up from the bed and say, "See you guys later."

Rue yells after you, "Don't be a little bitch!"

"Why are your parents out?" You ask Maddy, plopping down on her bed. Maddy shrugs and replies, "They went out for dinner. My dad finally found a job."

You raise an eyebrow at Maddy's response and ask, "So why did you specifically want me to come over tonight?" Maddy hesitates for a moment before saying, "I just thought it would be nice to have some company."

You sense there's something more to Maddy's invitation, but you decide not to push further. Instead, you lean back on her bed and let out a contented sigh. Maddy sits on her feet before lying down beside you.

"You smell like cigarettes." You glance at Maddy, slightly surprised by her comment. "Oh, sorry about that," you say, realizing that the faint smell of cigarettes must have clung to your clothes from earlier. "I was hanging out with some friends earlier, and they were smoking."

Maddy stares at your face, and you feel yourself becoming self-conscious under her gaze. "I am so jealous of your eyebrows," her thumb begins, tracing the shape of your brow.

"They're so perfectly arched," she continues, a small smile playing on her lips. You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you thank her for the compliment, appreciating her attention to detail.

Maddy's eyes leave your eyebrows and fall to your lips. You notice a flicker of curiosity in her gaze as she leans in slightly. You clench your jaw, frozen in place, you were nervous as fuck. Your heart pounds in your chest, unsure of what might happen next.

Maddy pauses for a moment, her eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. Sensing your unease, she leans back slightly, giving you space.

Shit...did you just blow it? You watch Maddy's reaction, you try to gather your thoughts and find the right words to salvage the moment. The silence hangs heavy in the air, and you swallow hard, feeling the weight of the missed opportunity.

"No fucking way," Elliot mumbles as you finish your sentence. He shakes his head in disbelief. "You fumbled badly."

You run a hand down your face, "I know." Elliot pats you on the back, "Have fun dealing with that one. I gotta get to class."

You narrow your eyes, "Since when did you start going to class?"

Elliot chuckles, "Since I realized that I might not be getting my diploma." You give him a playful shove, "Well, good luck with that. Maybe I'll see you at graduation."

Elliot raises an eyebrow, "Don't hold your breath." He turns and walks away, leaving you alone to ponder the consequences of your missed kiss with Maddy.

You lean against your locker, scrolling through your playlists before landing on the one you made for Maddy. Well, she didn't know you did because you hadn't shown her yet.

You press play, and the familiar melodies fill your ears, but suddenly your headphones get snatched from your ear. You lift your head to see one of the footballers, Tyler, smirking down at you. "Who the hell still wears wires?"

You roll your eyes, annoyed by Tyler's interruption, reaching out to grab them back. Tyler chuckles and shrugs, moving them before you can reach them. "You should upgrade to wireless, man. It's the future," he says with a teasing tone.

"You're so fucking annoying." You mumble, exasperated by Tyler's teasing. "What the fuck did you just say to me?" Tyler's smirk fades as he hears your response, his playful demeanor turning more serious.

He leans in closer, his voice lowering as he confronts you. "You better watch your mouth, or you'll regret it."

"This isn't some Disney show, dude. Can I just have my headphones back?" You ask, trying to diffuse the tension. Tyler's eyes narrow as he considers your request, his grip on your headphones tightening. "Maybe I'll give them back if you apologize," he proposes, a hint of superiority in his voice.

"Nah, man. I can always buy another pair." You say, attempting to walk away from the escalating situation. But before you can take a step, Tyler slams you back against the locker, throwing your headphones on the ground before stomping on them.

"Why? They're right there." He smirks, pointing at the broken headphones. He pats your shoulder before walking away, leaving you stunned and seething with anger. You stand there, anger boiling inside you.

He was a dickhead who obviously craved attention because he lacks it at home.

"What the hell happened to you?" You turn around to see Maddy approaching with a concerned look on her face. You take a deep breath, "Nothing, but I'm about to leave school."

Maddy's concern deepens as she notices the anger in your voice. "Are you sure you're okay? You hesitate for a moment, contemplating whether or not to confide in her about Tyler's actions. You nod, picking up your broken headphones.

"You wanna come with?" Maddy hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She finally nods and says, "Yeah, I'll come with you." You smile gratefully at her.

The sun has now set, and you're in your car in a secluded area. Maddy smiles, the last song on the playlist you made from her finishing. "Send me that now!"

You laugh, "I will, swear."

You feel a sense of relief knowing that Maddy enjoyed the playlist you made for her. You meet Maddy's gaze, and your heart swells with gratitude for her presence and the connection you share.

Rue's words echo in your mind, "Don't be a little bitch."

You take a deep breath, letting Rue's words motivate you to push through any fear or hesitation. You softly place a hand on Maddy's cheek, pulling her into a gentle kiss. Maddy sinks in the kiss, leaning forward to deepen the kiss.

The kiss deepens, and you can feel Maddy's nails lightly graze the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Without hesitating, you pull the Latina into your lap with slightly shaking hands.

You pull away in a desperate need for air, but Maddy takes this as a chance to attack your neck, nipping and sucking on your sensitive skin, while grinding in your lap.

You let out a low groan, grasping her hips tightly as you surrender to the energy between you. Maddy's lips trail to your neck, to your jaw, and then back in an intense kiss, her hands roaming over your body.

The kiss becomes messy, her tongue sliding against yours, making your head swim with lust. Your hands lift her skirt up, feeling the heat and smoothness of her thighs beneath your fingertips.

Maddy's breath hitches, pulling away from the kiss. You think you've done something wrong, but then you see the hunger in her eyes and the way her chest rises and falls rapidly. She leans in close, whispering in your ear, "I wanna ride you so bad."

Heat pools in your lower abdomen as you imagine Maddy straddling you, her body pressed against yours, moving in sync with your every touch. You bring Maddy into another kiss, she begins to grind on your hard-on, her movements becoming more urgent and desperate.

You lift Maddy up slightly, pulling down your pants with one hand while supporting her with the other. You reach back into her skirt, moving her underwear aside, before sliding into her wetness.

Maddy moans softly, her nails digging into your shoulder as she begins to move her hips in rhythm with your thrusts.

The eye contact is strong, fueling the intensity between you both. Maddy's gasps become louder, her body arching against yours in, "Mm..fuck! You feel so good, baby."

You let out a small groan, throwing your head back against your seat as the pleasure builds. Maddy's moans fill the confined space of the car, encouraging you to increase the pace, lost in the passionate moment.

Your hands grip her waist tighter, guiding her movements as the desire between you escalates. The car rocks with each thrust, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the enclosed space. The intensity reaches its peak, and with one final gasp, Maddy explodes into a state of euphoria, holding onto you tightly.

"Y/N!!" You hold onto her, her body trembling in your arms as she catches her breath. You gently stroke her hair, whispering words of comfort and affection as you both bask in the afterglow.

#spanktony works #spanktony #tonyspank #maddy perez x reader #maddy perez #euphoria #maddy euphoria #madtdy perez x g!p reader #maddy perez x you #maddy perez x y/n #maddy x reader #maddy perez smut #maddy perez fluff #g!p reader #g!p #maddy perez x gender neutral reader #euphoria x reader #euphoria x y/n

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ningvory · 2 months

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♡ payback ┊ yu jimin & uchinaga aeri

parings — meangirls!kariselle x loser!femreader

synopsis — after telling them to shut up, you quickly became their next target on their list. except you don't back down to them and actually fight back. so what better option do they have besides making you their pretty fuck doll? they like to call this payback.

warnings — college au, dubcon, aphrodisiac, pussy eating, degrading, fingering, facesitting, tribbing, bullying..duh, blackmail, they’re lowk pervs, pet names like pretty girl, baby, kinda proofread i was dosing off😭

w/c — 1.8k (1,865)

yu jimin and uchinaga aeri, known as karina and giselle to those who aren’t close to them, are the campus’s mean girls. well known for their beauty and of course, for bullying anyone who even dares to look at them in a way they dislike, you didn’t know much about them and you honestly didn’t card. the staff didn’t give a shit, they knew that if they even bothered to try and stop the bullying they could easily buy their way out of trouble.

unfortunately you happen to be the next target on their list. when you told them to simply, “shut the fuck up.” when you all were taking a quiz. from that day forward, they were never gonna let forget who they were. they consider it karma.

they started to poke fun at you, doing what they always do to their targets. pushing you into lockers, holding your books in the air knowing that you can’t reach them, calling you names, taking embarrassing photos of you and threatening that they would post it everywhere but they don’t mean it really, they let you slide because they think you’re cute.

you never really let them bully you that easily either, always fighting back when they would tournament you. they began getting frustrated because everything they did, you would always fight back. so what option do they have besides to fuck you dumb and make you a pretty fuck doll?

they wanted to fuck that attitude outta you, make you their personal cum dump and they always mean what they say.

you were walking outta your last class of the day, mentally exhausted and really just wanting to crash out on your bed. not expecting to be pinned to a locker in the empty hallways of the campus, letting out a small yelp when your back came in contact with the hard surface of the lockers behind you.

“hey y/nnie~ we really need help with our work. come over to our dorm room, i’ll text you what time to come!” karina said, her signature smile plastered on her face. the same one that can get her anything she wanted. she had you pinned to the wall with a soft grip until she pulled you closer to her, tightening her grip on your shoulders.

“you better be there. i think you know the consequences of disobeying us.” her voice was low and right by your ear causing you to shiver before she pulled you back to get a look at your face.

“see you later y/n!” karina said with her smile. a complete 180 of how she was before, acting as if she didn’t just force you to go to their dorm room.

—

you had to run some errands and you finally made it back to you dorm, putting your bag down and just laying on your bed. until you heard a ding! and a vibration from your phone, making you groan and roll over, knowing exactly who was texting you.

‘hey pretty girl, it’s giselle texting from rina’s phone :] it’s already 6 so come to our dorm at 8, dorm room is 1576 and make yourself look a little presentable.’

you sighed, closing your eyes really wanting to just stay in bed and chill. but you really didn’t want any more trouble from them, so you rolled out of bed with a sigh. walking over to your closet to pick something out.

after about 15 minutes you finally got your outfit together, wearing a black crop top and a simple miniskirt with your panda dunks. it was 7:54 so you had enough time to eat a snack before you walked out the door.

—

you started your mini journey to their door, it wasn’t exactly far but not close to yours either which you were honestly happy with. you were glad that your airpods were in your purse because you did not want to walk all the way back to your dorm to get them, you really couldn’t survive a day without music.

you arrived at their door it was right at 8:30. you double checked and made sure that this was the right dorm before knocking.

you went on your phone again until the door suddenly flung open and your hand being yanked inside.

“ah! y/n~ nice you came, didn’t know if you were coming.” karina spoke, bringing you into her embrace, it almost felt like she was intentionally pushing her tits into your face. you gave her a semi hug, patting her back with an awkward smile until she finally let go.

karina walked you over to their black couch, telling you to sit down while giselle gets you a drink. telling you that ‘we always give our guess a drink! don’t mention it.’ you were still as a statue, awkwardly looking around trying to figure out what exactly they brought you over for, it was obvious that they didn’t bring you over to help them with an assignment.

“sorry we had to lie, we just wanted to hang out! sure you won’t mind, right?” giselle walked over to you, giving you a glass full of and orange substance.

“y/n, relax! you’re so tense we’re not gonna bite you or something.” karina spoke, sitting down next to you while giselle turned the tv on and sat on the other side of you.

you just nodded before going to take a sip of your drink. you let out a hum, it actually tasted good. the mixture of the different fruits tasted nice, you took a bigger gulp, going to ask them where’d they get it from until you felt a hot sensation all over your body.

the two looked over at you, not expecting the aphrodisiacs to take over your body so quickly. but at least they knew it worked, and they weren’t complaining. they enjoyed your expression change, watching how you fidgeted uncontrollably and rubbed your warm thighs together, desperately trying to relieve the neediness that you suddenly felt.

you were sat there for a minute, praying that whatever you were feeling would go away. you started to watch the movie on their widescreen TV, trying to ignore the hot feeling all over.

the two smirked at each other before karina spoke out, “something wrong, baby?” her voice was low and sultry, forcing to lay down on the couch.

you started at her with a face that was just so cute to her, doe eyes looking up at her with your eyebrows knitted and a pout resting on your face. you swallowed, not knowing what to do until you felt a pair of hands spread your legs open and flick your skirt up. making you yelp at the coldness of the room, looking down to see giselle smirking back up at you.

“aw~ you’re soaked pretty girl, you’re so nasty!” giselle teased before rubbing your clothed clit. she had to hold your legs in place because you were just so jittery!

you weren’t a virgin but you weren’t someone who fucks or pleasures yourself often, but you’ve never been so desperate to cum. it’s so embarrassing you just wanted to go home and do it yourself.

giselle slides your panties off, looking in awe at the way your juices created a thick string that connected your cunt to your panties.

she raises your legs up and didn’t waste a moment, sucking on your sensitive clit and fingering your cunt. you desperately push her head away from you, it was so wrong for your bully to be going down in you! high pitched moans and whines of ‘this is wrong! s-stop!’ fell outta your mouth but the aphrodisiac had your body reacting in the opposite of your words. cunt spilling with your juices and desperately grinding your cunt on her face.

“you keep telling me to stop but your body seems to want this, pretty girl.” giselle said, pulling her face away from your cunt to undress herself.

“such a dumb girl, look at the camera.” karina giggled before grabbing your chin forcing your dazed eyes to look at the camera.

“wonder what your friends would think if they found out their friend was getting fucked stupid by her bullies..you know, you’re actually lucky you get to see us nude. people would die to be in the position.” karina added on, panning the camera down to your fat cunt before she stopped recording, undressing herself too.

karina shuffled to where she was hovering over your face, cunt on display for you to see. “your moans are so cute but so loud! i don’t wanna to get a noise complaint again so put that mouth to use, yeah?” she couldn’t even care to wait for your answer because next thing you know she’s putting all her weight on your face, her milky thighs crushing your head had you moaning and arching into your back.

“already so obedient f’me, you pain slut.” karina mustered out, barely able to speak because you’re going ham on her cunt.

this was probaly the best head she’s received because she was riding your face desperately, not even caring that she was full on suffocating you, her clit continuously bumped into your nose. you heard shuffling below you but you didn’t know what was going on until you felt your cunt being rubbed onto giselle’s fat cunny. she was grinding onto your cunt like her life depended on it and it had you moaning into karina’s cunt, making her let out surprised moans before she cummed all on your face and in your mouth.

she got off your face and coo’d, she couldn’t help but take a picture of your fucked out tear-stained face covered in her cum. you were far gone by now, back arched and eyes so far back, hands trying to grind yourself into her cunt because the pleasure felt so good! your moans mixed in with giselle’s lower moans until you let out a long high pitched whine, squirting everywhere, all over yours and her thighs.

you were crying and whining because it was starting to become too much for you, trying to push giselle off your cunt. you were so brain dead you were mumbling incoherent things, only words sounding coherent were ‘it’s too much’ but you were silenced quickly by karina’s tits being pushed in your face.

“you can take it. take what i give you until i cum, whore.” giselle grunted.

she began rubbing your clit, trying to make you squirt again and overstimulate you until you squirted again with a muffled moan. giselle finally came, cumming all over your cunt before smearing it all over your cunt and inside your hole. karina got off of you, taking in how fucked out you were before telling giselle to take pic.

“such a pretty cum dump,bet you liked every last bit of it you slut.” giselle taunted, spreading your legs wide open to take a picture of your cum covered cunt.

“the fun has just got started baby, let’s see how well you take being stuffed full of our dicks.” karina smiled at the look of horror on your face. you were in for a long night.

#ningvory #♡.nabi’s asks #kpop smut #wlw smut #aespa smut #aespa x fem reader #karina smut #aespa karina smut #giselle smut #aespa giselle smut #giselle x fem reader #karina x fem reader

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mattyriddlesbitch · 18 days

Note

FUCKING GOD I NEED MORE MATTHEO RIDDLE AND OVERSTIMULATION 😭😭😭 I'm begging!!

I can just hear Mattheo's voice. "Begging for me again already, angel?"

You Can Take It

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering, cussing, unprotected sex, bondage

18+ Minors DNI!

Ever since he had overstimulated you the first time, he was always looking to see how else he could do it. He loved seeing those pretty tears and ripping orgasm after orgasm from you.

So when he found your secret little wand vibrator, he knew exactly what he was going to do with it.

He had you bound to the bed, hands and legs tied. You couldn’t close your legs even if you wanted to. He was kissing and licking and biting all over you, leaving little marks here and there. You were nearly dripping from how worked up you were.

“You have no patience, darling.” Mattheo said as you kept whining and squirming under him.

“Please, Matty, I need you.” You begged, trying to give him your sweetest little puppy eyes so he’d give in.

“So needy. I’ll take care of you, baby.” He said before giving you a quick kiss, leaning back so he could look at your pussy. “She’s fucking dripping, princess.” He ran a finger through your folds, making you moan.

He grabbed the vibrator, turning it on a low setting and pressing it to your clit. You moaned, legs trying to close around the toy, but the restraints stopped you.

“Oh, look at that. Someone’s sensitive.” He teased, turning the vibrations up a level.

Curses flew out of your mouth as you tried your hardest to keep still.

“Your fucking pussy is begging to be fucked. You feel empty, angel?” He teased, watching your desperate and empty hole try to clench on anything.

“Yes, I need something, Matty. Please.” You nodded and moaned.

“What do you want? You want my fingers? My cock? Or maybe that dildo you’ve been hiding from me?” He asked with a smug smile.

“No! I want you! I want your fingers!” You begged.

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m better than your toys?” He wasn’t upset about the toys, he liked that you had them actually, but he did want to tease you.

“You’re so much better. Please, Matty.” You whined, trying to move your hips against the vibrator.

“I got you.” He said and pushed two fingers inside you.

You were moaning and crying out from how good it felt. The vibrator and his fingers were such a deadly combo. He already knew how to get your sensitive spots and make you cum quickly with his fingers. The vibrator added onto that was making your eyes roll back and legs shake. You didn’t last long before you were cumming on his fingers. He praised and complimented you as he helped you ride out your high.

Except he didn’t stop. No, he turned up the vibrator actually, his fingers still thrusting in and out. You were crying now, body still trembling as you fought against your restraints.

“Mattheo, please, I can’t.” You sobbed.

He clicked his tongue. “How many times have we been over this, sweetheart? You can take it. Just relax.”

You just cried from the overwhelming pleasure, still pulling at your restraints. Your body was screaming at you to pull away, but you physically couldn’t. Mattheo was trying to soothe you with some praises, telling you how good you were doing. You screamed and cried when he ripped another orgasm from you.

“Good girl. I told you you could take it.” He said, pulling his fingers out. He left the vibrator on you as he came closer, pressing his tip against your entrance. “You’re so beautiful.” He said sweetly before pushing in. “Shit, pretty girl, you feel so good. I’m gonna have to use this thing on you more.” He said as he started thrusting.

You were just a poor sobbing mess below him. His fingers were nice, but his cock was so much thicker and hit deeper. You were moaning and crying, tears running down your face. And that was the hottest thing in the world to him. Your sweet little face with ruined makeup, crying from how good he was making you feel.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me and cum on my cock?” His voice was so sweet compared to what he was doing to you.

“Yes! I’ll be good!” You sobbed. He really shouldn’t be loving this as much as he did. He shouldn’t love seeing you cry and sob.

“Good, I wanna fucking see you cum then.” He said, his eyes dragging down your body, watching your tits bounce for a moment before trailing further to see him fucking your sweet pussy.

You came again, violently. Shaking, screaming, crying, pulling at the restraints. Those might leave marks later, but that’s definitely not a concern at the moment.

He couldn’t take it anymore either. The way you screamed his name, the way you were crying, the way your walls were clenching around him. He came right after you, filling your pussy with his cum.

He’s definitely keeping the vibrator, that’s for sure.

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle

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fushisagi · 8 months

Text

miya atsumu and the chronic lovesick disease

୨୧ ━━ ❛ what am i to you, atsumu? ❜

word count ⋆ 12.6k (12,607) genre ⋆ fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, college au ━ gn!reader

the question comes to him one autumn night, surrounded by his friends and the chilly november breeze, asked by, who he assumes to be, just another nobody looking for money: what is it that you desire most, boy? the psychic asks, her saccharine smile forgotten when he looks into the crystal ball and all he ends up seeing is you. alternatively: miya atsumu is not in love. what the hell? who would ever suggest something like that?

warnings ⋆ alcohol consumption, mutual pining, denial of feelings!!! lots of it!! and with this denial comes some stupid decisions!!! author’s note ⋆ ive actually like never been to the psychic before so if its inaccurate im so sorry ..... it’s not really a big part of the plot though so hopefully u can overlook it 😭

o. Desire

This is a scam, is Atsumu’s first thought when he takes a seat inside the tent and finds himself face-to-face with a crystal ball.

People like this are dangerous — his twin brother never lets anyone forget it. They take advantage of an individual’s fear of the unknown and they make money off it. It’s genius, because even the strongest people can become weak to something as mundane as self-proclaimed clairvoyants setting base near a college campus.

Atsumu supposes he’s no exception. Even if Bokuto was the one who forced him to do this in the first place.

“Hello,” the woman greets, her hair pinned into a tight bun. “You’re here for a reading?”

“Sure,” Atsumu huffs, shivering when the cold breeze sneaks into the tent. He really should’ve worn a thicker jacket.

When he looks up from the table, the woman gives him a smile. It’s analytical, as if all he needed to do was sit down for her to know everything about him. He fidgets in his seat, growing more uncomfortable under her gaze.

“So,” she says, clasping her hands together and resting them on the table. “What is it that you desire most, boy?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your greatest desire,” she repeats patiently.

Atsumu blinks before tilting his head. “Um, I’m not—”

“I’m sure you know,” she says. “Is it strength? Power? Love?”

All colour drains from Atsumu’s face. The psychic smiles wickedly.

Atsumu thinks this may be the end of him. He never liked it when people acted like they knew more about his intentions than he did, and it only took mere minutes before the woman figured him out.

His hand twitches. He would feel a lot better if you were here—

“Ah,” she clicks her tongue, “bingo.”

i. Strength

After a borderline homicidal game of rock, paper, scissors, Sakusa lands himself a new roommate.

Move-in day comes two weeks later and Atsumu sits in the lobby of the building, waiting for your car to pull into the parking lot.

He notes the time — it’s five minutes past 8:30, making you more than half an hour late — before grumbling under his breath and continuing to scroll through his feed. When Instagram notifies him that he’s all caught up, he exits the app and opens Twitter in hopes that something will be able to entertain him until you show up. He likes some tweets, retweets a few more, and terrorizes Suna before he grows bored at the lack of anything interesting on his timeline.

Another glance at the time. He scowls. It’s only been two minutes.

Atsumu debates asking Sakusa if he knows what’s happened to you. When he opens their message thread, he raises an eyebrow at how unbelievably one-sided their conversations are, but he decides that’s a problem for another day. Your absence is more important to Atsumu than Sakusa’s terrible conversational skills ever will be.

(He’ll bother Sakusa about it later).

He’s about to send a long string of emojis when an incredulous voice reaches his ears.

“Tsumu?”

He looks up and immediately pockets his phone with a grin. “You’re late.”

You adjust the box of donuts in your hands and squint at him as if his smile is as blinding as the sun. “I slept through my alarm. What the hell are you doing here?”

Atsumu gestures to his outfit. “What does it look like?”

You stare blankly.

“Seriously?” he scoffs. “I told you last night I’d help you move in. How’d you forget? Am I that forgettable? You wound me, I—”

“Shut up,” you say, shifting your weight. Atsumu’s eyes flicker to the sticker on the box, and he tries his best not to frown when he notices you’ve written Sakusa’s name in calligraphy with a heart at the end. “Of course I remember you offering to help because I spent my entire night telling you it was fine.”

“You expect me to believe that you can bring all your shit in by yourself? You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

“Thank you, Tsumu, I can always count on you to make me feel like I’ve been shot by Cupid’s arrow,” you quip, brushing past him to get to the elevator, and as if it’s second nature, he follows. “I can’t believe people walk around campus calling you sweet.”

“I never said you looked bad,” he says. “I think the dried drool on your chin is pretty cute, actually.”

“Whatever,” you hurriedly wipe your face. “Speaking of bad, what on Earth are you wearing?”

Atsumu knows full well you’re not complimenting him, but he decides to treat your comment as if you have. He beams, picking at the sweatpants you eye with disgust before walking into the elevator with you.

“It’s my mover outfit!”

“Your mover outfit,” you deadpan. “Disregarding whatever that means — those sweatpants are baggier than Kenma’s eyebags. And they do nothing for your ass.”

He smirks. “You were checking out my ass?”

You avoid eye contact, feigning indifference, but Atsumu’s known you for too long and immediately recognizes your fluster by the way you tug at the hem of your clothing.

“No,” you deny curtly, straightening your posture when the elevator doors open to show Sakusa’s floor. “It’s just hard not to notice when those sweats are ridiculously baggy. Seriously, are you trying to put something in there? I could fit a month’s worth of groceries in those.”

You’re walking swiftly, eager to get to your new apartment and end the conversation. The both of you are well aware that Atsumu’s more than capable of catching up with you, but he hangs back, preferring to watch you babble while he trails behind.

You clutch the donuts closer to your body as words tumble out of your mouth — a list of things that could fit in his sweats, including two jugs of milk and a family size pack of chips — and Atsumu can’t stop the lopsided smile from appearing on his face.

“Maybe a carton of eggs, too,” he suggests.

“Oh, I wouldn’t trust you with eggs,” you say sharply.

“Why not?”

“Are you really asking me that? Last month I lent you my blanket and you gave it back to me with a hole in it.”

“For the last time,” Atsumu begins, quickening so he’s side-by-side with you, “that was Samu’s fault, not mine.”

“…Alright.”

“Y/N,” he whines. “I’m serious! None of that was on me — I even bought you a new blanket! Would Samu have done that? I don’t think so—”

“Actually—”

“The point is,” Atsumu interrupts, throwing you a glare before continuing, “blame Samu. Whenever something bad happens, blame him. That’s what I always do.”

“Spoken like a true, responsible individual.”

“Hey!” he protests. “I’m responsible!”

You open your mouth to deny his claims, but the pout he plasters over his face is enough for you to give in. Too tired to give him something as golden as a verbal agreement, you opt for changing the subject. “Do you think Sakusa will like the donuts?”

Atsumu frowns. “Why does it matter? They’re donuts.”

You grow annoyed at his impertinence. “I want him to like me, you moron.”

His expression sours further. “He’s your friend.”

“And I won a game of rock, paper, scissors, so now I’m his roommate,” you remark. “There’s a difference between being friends with someone and living with them. I mean, would you want to live with Bokuto?”

Atsumu’s answer is swift. “Hell no.”

“Exactly,” you say, “I need us to get along.”

You stop in front of a door and begin searching your pockets for your key. There’s a pinch between your eyebrows, the box trembles as you struggle to balance it with one hand, and your clothes are a mess, but underneath the fluorescent light of the hallway, Atsumu can’t help but think you almost look angelic.

He shakes the thought away, squashes it beneath his foot until the remnants of it have been absorbed by the carpet.

“The last time I saw you this nervous was when you asked out that barista,” he muses.

You dig your hand into the breast pocket of your shirt and huff when you find nothing. “What are you implying?”

Atsumu stares pointedly at the sticker on the box. Your face morphs into one of horror.

“Are you dense?”

“Calligraphy, Y/N. I’ve never seen you write calligraphy in my entire life.”

“I was trying something out!”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

You smack him on the shoulder. “I was being thoughtful,” you grunt, softening when Atsumu winces and rubs the spot where you hit him. “He’s my friend, and that’s all he ever will be.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

Your eyes leave him for a millisecond, flickering to somewhere else on his face before returning his gaze once more. “Of course,” you say softly, “Besides, I—”

The door swings open.

“You’re loud,” Sakusa deadpans in the doorway. His eyes travel down to the donuts. “Are those for me?”

You hand them over to him. “Yeah, I didn’t know what you liked, so they’re all assorted.”

Sakusa hums in thanks before tilting his head at Atsumu. “Why’re you here?”

“To help them move in,” Atsumu grins, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it. “I know you’re going to the drycleaners, and I couldn’t let Y/N do this all by themselves.”

Sakusa shrugs and turns to go further into the apartment. “Sounds good to me. I’d rather not have to press those nasty elevator buttons multiple times just so I can come down and get your stuff,” he gives you the best apologetic look he can muster. “Have fun, though.”

Before you can go on a tangent about how Sakusa should be more welcoming, Atsumu pipes up, “Yeah, don’t worry! ‘S all in good hands,” he nudges you with his elbow. “Right? Your stuff can’t be that heavy.”

Atsumu, not for the first time and certainly not the last, stands corrected.

Not only is your stuff heavy, but there’s much more than he expected.

With each trip down to the parking lot, his muscles grow strained, and he feels the fatigue threaten to droop his eyelids shut. But, in the corner of his eyes, he sees your persistence to get this over and done with, and Atsumu decides it won’t hurt to push through.

His complaining and wailing can wait until later.

After you place the last box into your new bedroom, you turn to him while wiping the sweat from your forehead. “Thank you,” you say breathlessly.

He goes to tease you, to say that you owe him now, that you’ll be indebted to him for life.

But what comes out of his mouth instead is: “‘Course. Call me whenever you want, and I’ll be there.”

Atsumu calls it a housewarming gift. Sakusa says there is hardly anything warming about it.

It referring to the group of boys gathered in the living room — your friends on good days, the bane of your existence on all the others — with their limbs strewn about and their soda cans sitting too close to the edge of the coffee table. It’s an odd sight for Sakusa to have this many people over on a Thursday night, but Atsumu insisted, and he caught Sakusa on a good day when he asked if he could hold a movie night at the apartment to celebrate your new accommodations.

You’re sure Sakusa regrets it now. He sits in his armchair with a permanent scowl, swatting Hinata away when the boy reaches to fix the crease between Sakusa’s brows. If looks could kill, Atsumu would’ve been dropped dead ten minutes ago.

He covers his fear with a grin, but out of the corner of his mouth, he says to you, “Help me.”

You snicker. “You’re on your own, dude.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

“What? But Bokuto calls you that, too!”

“Yeah, but it’s Bokuto.”

“I have no idea what you mean by that.”

Atsumu only tsks, forcibly ending the conversation by suggesting to the room that they should all play a game to decide who’ll prepare all the popcorn. A chorus of agreements is what he gets in response, along with someone complaining about how he should be spared due to his gruelling volleyball practice, and another person expressing his sympathies for the future loser.

Atsumu prepares the ladder game, and after he’s done, he looks at everyone with fiery hot intensity, an expression similar to one he wears during a match. “Remember,” he declares, “whoever loses can’t complain.”

Luck isn’t on his side tonight.

“What the hell!” he screeches once the reality of his defeat settles in.

Osamu, far too smug for Atsumu’s liking, quips, “I thought you said no complaining.”

The noise that leaves Atsumu’s mouth is something akin to a pathetic but animalistic growl. He goes to protest, even raising his hand to list off reasons why he’s been wronged — someone must’ve cheated, or maybe everyone in this room has a ruthless vendetta against him — but just as the words are about to leave his lips, his eyes land on you.

You challenge him to complain with a look, and he suddenly gets a much better idea.

“Y/N,” he says sweetly, growing pleased at your uneasiness. “As the host of this housewarming party, it’s only fair that you help me, too.”

“What?” you squawk, leaning forward as if you’ve misheard him. “But you were the one who suggested doing all of this! How is it now on me to help—”

“Well, he wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t for you,” Sakusa muses.

You stare at him in disbelief. “Are you taking his side? What happened to roommate solidarity?”

“You just made that up,” Sakusa replies. “Besides, this thing will go by faster if two people prepare the popcorn, and I don’t think Miya wants anyone else other than you.”

Atsumu shifts uncomfortably at the implication, and he involuntarily commits your surprised expression to memory.

(When he goes to sleep later that night, your surprise is all he sees against the darkness of his eyelids).

“Other than me—?”

“To make the popcorn,” Sakusa drawls matter-of-factly.

You blink. “Right.” You look at Atsumu, and he shrugs dumbly, unsure of how else to react to your sudden change in behaviour.

To him, you have always been easy to read, but right now, he’s not entirely sure if there’s a word for the expression on your face. He yearns to press a hand to your cheek to melt the malaise away, to be rid of it forever so he can see you smiling again.

Something in his chest twists.

“Right!” you repeat, more loudly this time, and startling the rest of your friends. You slap your hands on your lap before standing and grabbing Atsumu’s wrist to pull him away. “I guess I’m helping you make popcorn. You owe me one, Miya.”

Your skin is warmer than usual, threatening to burn him until your fingerprints are marked onto his skin.

(Behind him, Suna stage-whispers, “You are so whipped, Y/N.”)

Your touch disappears the moment you’ve both crossed the threshold into the kitchenette. Atsumu flexes his hand, trying to get rid of an urge in his veins he can’t quite explain.

“Hey,” you say casually, back turned to him as you dig through the cabinets for the popcorn packets. “Did you finish that essay for literature class?”

Atsumu awkwardly clears his throat and begins playing with the settings on the microwave. “The paper?”

“Yes, the paper,” you say. “The one I told you to start two weeks ago so you wouldn’t end up sending a half-assed essay two minutes before the deadline?”

“Why are you talking like you think I didn’t start it yet?”

“Because I know you, Tsumu,” you reply, shutting the cabinet with your elbow and ungracefully dropping the packets onto the counter beside him. “And I lost faith in your ability to listen to me a long time ago.”

“How rude. I always listen to you,” he sticks his nose in the air like a scorned, evil, cartoon antagonist, “I just don’t take all your suggestions. There’s a difference.”

“You make my life so much harder,” you huff, inputting a minute-thirty into the microwave. “I honestly think I lose ten years of my lifespan whenever you tell me you’ve gotten yourself into another dilemma.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’m sure you only lose, like, three at most.”

“No, it’s definitely ten,” you say. “You worry me too much, Miya.”

The smile on Atsumu’s face, previously smug and confident, softens.

“Seriously, though,” you continue, jabbing a finger into his sternum. “The paper? It’s due tonight.”

He flicks your nose, snorting when you pull a face. “I sent it in this morning.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey! Don’t act so shocked!”

“Well, this is, like, the first time you’ve ever done something even remotely responsible, so—”

“I thought we both agreed I’m a generally responsible person.”

Your silence is enough of a response.

Atsumu gasps just as the microwave beeps, allowing you to ignore his stunned expression in order to begin preparing another bag of kernels.

“Give me one reason—”

“The blanket—”

“—that isn’t the blanket,” he says sourly. “That doesn’t count. I told you that was Samu’s fault, not mine.”

“Do you want a list? Because I have one.”

“Are you serious or are you just fucking with me?”

“Osamu and I have a Google Doc.”

Another gasp. You roll your eyes.

“Now you’re in kahoots with my brother? What’s next? Planning my downfall with Suna?”

“I’m sure he’s fine doing that himself without my help.”

He whines, stomping his foot when you only stare back in amusement. “Don’t be so unrepentant, Y/N!”

You dump the contents of the hot popcorn bags into a large bowl for everyone to share. “Unrepentant? Was that the word on your word-of-the-day calendar?”

“Shut up. You know only Kuroo has lame stuff like that,” Atsumu grumbles, throwing the last popcorn packet into the faulty brick of power you and Sakusa call a microwave. “I used it in my essay. Thesauruses are a godsend. It really came in handy when I was writing about the flower symbolism in the book. Y’know what’s even better, though? SparkNotes.”

You tilt your head, studying Atsumu with furrowed eyebrows. “Huh.”

“What d’you mean huh?”

“Nothing,” you say innocently. “I just didn’t think you’d choose that essay topic, that’s all.”

“It was the easiest one,” he states. You hum in agreement, but he can sense you falling into a state of pondering before it even happens, so he lightly pokes your shoulder in hopes it’ll be enough to keep you from drifting too far from his reach. “Why, what did you think I picked?”

He can tell you’re debating what to tell him, letting a few seconds pass before you give in. “I thought you’d do the one that centred more around…” you trail off, clenching and unclenching your jaw, “the love aspect of it all.”

He blinks. “Why?”

Childishly, you retort, “Why not?”

Atsumu licks his lips. “Well, you’re always telling me to write what I know. And I may not know a whole lot about flowers, but I know more about those than, y’know, love.”

Something passes over your face, the same thing he saw when Sakusa said something — implied something — in the living room. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “I’ve had relationships, sure, but none that made me feel anything like— like that.”

You drum your fingers against the bowl. “None at all?”

“None at all.”

You click your tongue and stare at the microwave. Its buzz has become more prominent in your silence, a mocking hum hanging over the air as you contemplate and Atsumu stares, waiting impatiently for a word to slip past your lips.

But there’s nothing. Instead, the microwave beeps again, indicating that the last of the popcorn is ready.

“That’s good to know,” you say lightly. At least, that’s what you attempt, but you sound different, like a parasite has found solace in your vocal cords and fiddled with everything Atsumu’s familiar with.

“It is?”

“Yeah,” you nod, handing the bowl over to him. Popcorn threatens to spill but Atsumu can’t bring himself to care. “Hey, be careful. What, is it too heavy? Are you too weak to carry it?”

“It’s popcorn,” Atsumu rasps.

You eye him oddly, as if he’s the one whose behaviour should be examined under a microscope. “Don’t spill it everywhere. Sakusa’ll get pissed, and we’re already pushing it with this movie night thing.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Of course,” you agree. “But if you need me—”

“I know,” he interjects.

Simple promises are often uttered during private moments between you and Atsumu — an oath to be there for the other, to stand by their side no matter what. The words soothe him when they’re said aloud; he knows, underneath all the teasing and the bickering and the irritated eyerolls, is your pinky and his, intertwined.

And despite the voice in his head taunting him about a secret he’s unaware of, he allows the promise to enchant him.

I’ll be there for you.

“Do you need help?”

Atsumu grunts, adjusting your arm around his neck as he opens the car door. “No, I’m fine.”

“Thanks for picking them up,” Aran says, voice loud above the frat house’s music, “I know you were tired from practice, but—”

“It’s fine. I probably would’ve killed you if you didn’t call me, anyway.”

“Osamu said you’d say that.”

Atsumu expertly brushes off the statement, gently ushering you into the passenger’s seat and putting your seatbelt on with gentle fingers. Behind him, Aran watches the movements with thoughtful eyes and a quirk of his eyebrows.

“The last time they got this drunk was at the fall festival last year,” he muses. “For your sake, I hope it doesn’t happen again.”

“What does that mean?”

“Hm?”

“For your sake,” Atsumu echoes, turning to face Aran once the door’s been shut and he’s made sure you’re sleeping soundlessly with your head resting against the cold window. Atsumu stands pin-straight, his posture contrasting the way Aran stands opposite him, relaxed with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “What’s that mean?”

Aran laughs, like he’s unsure if this is a serious question. “Well, I mean… they’re always asking for you whenever they get drunk like this.”

“I guess so, yeah.”

“That’s why you got here in record time, right?” Off Atsumu’s questioning gaze, Aran continues, “I called you five minutes ago, and your place is a fifteen-minute drive away. And you’re not in your pajamas, even though you said you’d change into them the moment you got home.”

“I was in the area,” Atsumu says weakly.

“Doing what?”

“Getting dinner.”

“Why didn’t you just get something delivered to your apartment?”

“Is it illegal to want to pick up the food myself?”

Aran raises his hands up in defence. “No, it’s not, but it’s also not illegal to say you knew this would happen,” he shrugs. “You knew they’d need you Atsumu, so you came. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Before Atsumu can force a response from his throat, Aran has already slipped back into the party, leaving Atsumu alone on the street. With an annoyed huff, he stomps to the driver’s side, muttering irked questions under his breath about what Aran could possibly mean. He opens the door with more aggression than necessary, only softening when he sees you stir underneath the jacket he’s draped over you to keep you warm.

He unlocks his phone when he feels a buzz in his pocket.

[00:30] Atsumu: are you still awake?

[00:48] Sakusa: Yes. Why?

Atsumu knows that your apartment’s farther from here than his, and he’s sure that by the time he arrives, Sakusa won’t answer the door because he’ll grow tired of Atsumu’s lack of response and go to bed.

The decision is made when he takes a right instead of a left, when he pulls into a parking lot that isn’t yours, when he carries your body up the stairwell and into his bed with ease.

Everything else comes as routine. He tucks the blanket under your chin, moves the glass of water so it’s too far for you to accidentally knock over in the morning, and leaves a change of clothes at the foot of the bed.

Atsumu likes routine. He likes the predictability of it all.

A groggy voice stops him from leaving the room.

“Tsumu?”

“Hey,” he whispers, crouching so he’s eye-level with you. “I hope you don’t mind I brought you back here.”

You blink sleepily at him, too inebriated and fatigued to acknowledge his words. “You’re a really good person, y’know,” you say languidly.

He smiles, amused. “Really?”

“Yeah. Thank you for picking me up.”

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

“It’s not.”

“I’m sure you would’ve been fine without me. Omi could’ve picked you up, couldn’t he? Samu could’ve, too.”

“I know, but you’re the one who always does,” you respond, nuzzling further into the pillow. “You’ve—you’ve helped me a lot.”

You shakily reach a hand to his face, playing with the strands of hair that fall to his forehead. He relaxes, eyelids growing heavy at the feeling of your featherlike touch against his cool skin.

“You’ve brightened up my life, I think,” your voice is muffled, but it rings in Atsumu’s ears clear as day, almost as loud as his quickening heart rate. “I appreciate you a lot more than you know.”

ii. Power

He watches with bated breath as the ball cuts through the air while gravity begins to pull Hinata back to Earth. Everything unfolds in slow motion; everything has faded into white noise.

With a slam, the volleyball connects with the ground, and it’s only when he’s pulled into a hug does the reverie shatter. Like being hauled out from underwater, the roars of the crowd flood his ears as Bokuto begins jumping on the balls of his feet and Hinata comes rushing over to them with a triumphant shout.

On the other side of Bokuto, Sakusa smiles, rolling his eyes fondly when Hinata and Bokuto begin making post-game plans to celebrate their victory. Atsumu, on the other hand, is uncharacteristically silent as he searches the bleachers with a cloudy look in his eyes.

He’s snapped out of it once again when Bokuto tugs on his wrist so they can go and listen to what their coach has to say.

Atsumu isn’t a stranger to winning — he used to get drunk on this sort of stuff, the exhilarating rush that shot through his veins after every successful game. He basks in the crowd’s excitement and admiration, because to be fawned over is the closest to love he’s ever been (if he could even call it that), but once the adrenaline cuts him off and he’s left alone in the locker room, it all fizzles out.

Something’s missing at the end of all this. Usually, the void in his chest is insignificant enough for him to brush off. However, today is different.

It’s abnormal for the power of the win to dwindle into nothingness only minutes after the game ends, but the blue moon has risen tonight, and now everything feels weird. The cheers aren’t enough to keep him from searching the gymnasium for a familiar face, and he itches to get to his phone in the locker room when he can’t find who he’s looking for.

“Why do you look like we’ve lost?” Bokuto asks. “C’mon, man! Smile! We just won! Aren’t you happy?”

“Of course I am,” Atsumu grunts.

(But…)

But.

The adrenaline shoots through him again when a voice he knows all too well catches his attention over the noise.

“Hey!” you rush towards them, dishevelled. “Before you get mad, I know I missed the game, I took a nap and slept through it, fuck, I am never going to stay up late playing Fortnite with you again, Tsumu, you’ve ruined my sleep schedule, but—” you huff, trying to catch your breath as you hand Atsumu a bag, “I’m sorry that I didn’t come. Congrats on winning, I heard the shouts from down the street.”

Atsumu smiles and peers into the bag. “What is this?”

“Mochi,” you answer. “A celebratory gift for my favourite setter.”

“I’m the only setter you know.”

“Which is why you’re my favourite.”

Atsumu snorts but hugs the bag to his chest, like it’s his most prized possession and he’d drag it along to the grave with him. “Thank you.”

If someone were to ask Atsumu if he liked the pedestal he’s put on after a match, he’d say yes. Of course he does. He quite likes it on top of the world.

But you match his joyful smile with one of your own and Atsumu finds himself rethinking his answer. “Anytime.”

The top of the world may be nice, but it is nothing compared to being on the ground next to you.

“You know what they say. With great power comes great responsibility.”

“Would you relax?” Sakusa snarls. “You’re in charge of us for a day. Get your head out of your ass.”

On the floor, Hinata lays like a starfish as he stares up at the ceiling, cheeks tainted a bright pink hue. “I think power’s gotten to your head.”

Atsumu waves him off. “I think this is the best practice we’ve ever had.”

Their captain had to run out five minutes into practice — relationship problems is what he grumbled to Atsumu before leaving him in charge without a second thought, much to the rest of the team’s dismay.

“I hope you’re never put it in charge again,” Bokuto complains before downing the rest of his water.

“Don’t be dramatic—”

“Do you know how gruelling this practice must be for Hinata to be tired?”

“Give us a break,” Hinata pleads, shifting his position so he’s on his knees. “Please. I’ll buy you lunch for the rest of the month if you end our suffering.”

Atsumu pretends to ponder the offer and grows more amused as Hinata begins to twitch nervously. “Okay, fine,” he relents.

Hinata cries with glee, hugging Atsumu’s legs before pushing himself off the floor and rushing out of the gymnasium — whether it’s to refill his water bottle or hide until he’s found, Atsumu may never know. With a snort, Atsumu grabs his own bottle amongst the rest on the bench, promising Bokuto absentmindedly that he’ll go easy on them for the rest of the day.

“I want to have at least a little energy left for the party at Kuroo’s tonight,” Bokuto adds, his smile widening when Atsumu nods in agreement. “See, I knew you’d get it!”

Sakusa takes a seat on the bench. “Are you going to the party, Miya?”

“Yeah, Y/N’s forcing me to come with,” Atsumu says. “How about you?”

Bokuto answers for him. “I’m making him come!” he exclaims. “You’ll have so much fun, Omi, you don’t have to worry.”

Sakusa deadpans, “I’m only staying for five minutes.”

Bokuto waves off his iciness with a flippant hand. “I’ll convince you to stay longer.”

“I really doubt that.”

“Don’t underestimate me!” Bokuto huffs. He turns away from Sakusa before he can continue to argue and focusses on Atsumu. “It’s good that you’re coming too, Tsum-Tsum! Maybe you can finally meet the guy Y/N’s going on a date with.”

Atsumu halts, hand tightening around his bottle. “What?”

“Some guy from their Psychology class asked them out a few days ago,” Bokuto says obliviously. “I think it was the night you picked them up? I don’t know. I think he was nice, though. Y/N probably already told you about it.”

You didn’t.

Atsumu forces a grin on his face. “Right, they did.”

Sakusa studies his expression with pinched eyebrows.

Atsumu’s cheeks hurt for the rest of practice, a consequence of the cheerful façade he’s plastered, but the pain subsides — if only for a moment — when he sees you outside the gymnasium, carrying your favourite boba drink in one hand, and his favourite in the other.

“Hey!” you greet, handing him the drink. “How was practice?”

“Awful,” Hinata mopes with a pout. “Your boyfriend here was running it like the navy.”

You frown. Atsumu blanches. “My boyfriend…?”

“Yeah!” Hinata slaps Atsumu on the back. “Him.”

All colour drains from your face. Your grip on your cup loosens for a split second before tightening it again in panic. You look from Hinata, the picture of innocence, to Atsumu, who only stares back, just as bewildered.

Hinata seems to take the hint as his eyes flicker between the two of you in confusion. “Sorry, I… I overheard Bokuto saying you were going on a date with someone, so I assumed—”

“Date?” you interrupt frantically, arms flapping to deny the words that have recklessly tumbled from Hinata’s mouth. “With who— with Atsumu? He’s not— we’re not— I’m not— we’re—”

“We’re friends,” Atsumu finishes, saving you from your stammering. You look at him gratefully, and he can only offer a weak smile in return. “I don’t know why you’d think we’re dating, Shoyo.”

“Sorry—”

“They’re going on a date with someone else.”

You narrow your eyes. “What do you—?”

“Oh, hey,” Sakusa says as he walks out of the doors. He tugs on the string of his mask to make sure it’s secure before nodding at you. “Did you stop by the grocery store yet?”

Atsumu’s words are long forgotten when realization engulfs your figure at the speed of light. “Oh, no! I took a nap and—”

“You really need to fix your sleep schedule.”

“I’ll have you know I slept four hours last night.”

“…That’s not a good thing.”

“It’s an hour more than usual.”

The genuine concern is evident in Sakusa’s eyes before he rubs his temples with a sigh. “Okay, whatever. Let’s go to the store before we head home, I need to buy more protein powder.”

“Ay, ay, captain.”

“Don’t call me that.”

You snicker then turn to Atsumu with a smile he’d move mountains for. “I’ll see you later, Tsumu?”

“Yeah, sure,” he murmurs. “Don’t take too long to get ready.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you say, patting his cheek. “Thanks for agreeing to drive me there and back.”

He finds himself involuntarily leaning into your touch. “Don’t mention it.”

Your touch lingers for a second too long before you salute him in goodbye and rush to follow Sakusa to your car. Atsumu watches as your figure gets smaller and smaller, a smile on his face as you glance over your shoulder and stick your tongue out when you catch him staring.

He flips you off and makes sure to stick his tongue out, too, in hopes that it’ll make you laugh loud enough for him to hear.

(He doesn’t notice the mischievous glint in Sakusa’s eyes, nor does he catch his name slipping past Sakusa’s lips).

(But he does notice you tilt your head, lost in thought, before you look at him again, attempting to figure him out despite the distance.

He thinks nothing of it).

Just after his 9am lecture, someone asks Atsumu out on a date.

She’s nice and easy on the eyes; a little timid, but he supposes that’s just the affect he has on people. Big man on campus is what he’s always referred to as, until they realize that he’s nothing if not a goofball off-court. Still, the girl — Miwa is what she said her name was — doesn’t know that yet, so Atsumu gives her the benefit of the doubt.

And he says yes.

At 11:00, the whole team has caught wind of his evening plans, and Sakusa texts him to tell him he’s an idiot. Atsumu frowns, asks why, but Sakusa doesn’t reply.

At 6:00, an hour before his date, he shows up on your doorstep with a bag of clothes and a tie loose around his neck. His left pant leg is tucked into his sock and the other is haphazardly cuffed; his hair is all over the place, sticking up at the back as the result of a hair-gel disaster.

You stare at him with pinched eyebrows. “What do you need?”

“I’ve got a date,” he explains frantically. “I need your help.”

You hesitantly let him in.

At 6:15 is when the argument occurs. The reason why is something Atsumu can’t recall, only that it was something so small and insignificant that the argument shouldn’t have even happened in the first place. He thinks you may have been in a bad mood before he even arrived, but that doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t talked to him in the past five hours.

Oh, right. And the power goes out at 6:45.

He texts Miwa to cancel, promising to reschedule on a day where they won’t be talking to each other in the dark, but his phone dies before he gets a response. With a shrug, he tosses it onto the coffee table and makes a mental note to charge it as soon as the power comes back on, knowing full well that he’ll forget the reminder the second he makes it.

He should feel more guilty about the fact that he cares more about your absence than his postponed date.

Atsumu stares at your door for far too long before deciding that he’ll apologize to you — for what, he doesn’t know, but apologize first, ask questions later is his motto — once you’ve left your room. He’ll grovel and get on his knees and even humiliate himself if he has to, as long as it gets you to talk to him again, because God knows he’ll never survive this outage by himself.

(Also, you’re his best friend, and — Atsumu has never told anybody this — the last time you gave him the silent treatment, his chest physically hurt from not speaking to you that he vowed to never anger you again).

It’s 11:35, and you still haven’t left your room.

For the past few hours, you’ve been watching Netflix without headphones to torture a bored Atsumu, but the noises stopped about ten minutes ago, meaning your phone must’ve died too, so it’s only a matter of time before you leave your room in hopes of finding something to do.

Atsumu’s almost giddy at the thought.

At 11:50, he makes his move.

He hears the creaking of your door and your socked feet softly padding in the hallway. Atsumu’s always tried going to sleep early so he can hit the gym before it gets too busy the next morning, so you must’ve waited the latest you could bear with the assumption that he had fallen asleep on the couch.

Atsumu tiptoes to the end of the hallway, teeth bright compared to the darkness of the apartment, and his grin only widens when you finally see him.

You blink before scoffing, brushing past him to enter the kitchenette.

“Y/N,” he says, attempting to be stern but it comes off as a whine in his desperation. “Look at me.” You spare him a glance. Atsumu deems that’s good enough. “Listen, I’m sorry.”

He watches you open a cupboard and fill your glass with water. The seconds that pass by are agonizingly slow and Atsumu shifts uncomfortably when the silence drags on.

Finally, you look at him, unamused, and say, “What exactly are you sorry for?”

He purses his lips in thought. “Uh…”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to make your way back to your room.

“Wait! Wait,” Atsumu shouts, rushing over to block the exit. His eyes dart all over the kitchen in hopes the walls will have the answer to your question. You tap your foot impatiently, and it’s only when you go to open your mouth to tell him to move that he blurts out, “I’m sorry for eating the rest of your chocolate cake.”

You look at him incredulously. “That was you?”

“Yeah, I— wait, you’re not mad about that?”

“I am now!” you huff, using an arm to try and shove him out of the way, but he catches your wrist.

“Then I don’t get it!” he groans. “What did I do?”

You give him a once-over. “Well, what didn’t you do?”

“This is about the outfit?”

“You’ve cuffed your slacks, Tsumu. They’re cuffed. No sane person cuffs their slacks.”

He struggles to wrap his head around your response. “You’re mad,” he repeats, then gestures to his outfit confusedly, “about what I’m wearing.”

You seem to realize just how ridiculous it sounds uttered out loud, because you pout. “Not just that.”

“Then what else?”

You stumble over your words before you coherently state, “You’re going on a date.”

He frowns. “Yes.”

“You’re going on a date,” you say again when it’s obvious he’s not catching on to what you mean. When all Atsumu can manage is a perplexed sound, you add frustratedly, “You’re going on a date, which I don’t understand, since Sakusa told me that I didn’t need to worry anymore, but I guess he’s wrong because you came here asking for my help with looking nice on your night out with Miwa and—”

“Wait,” Atsumu interrupts, still puzzled. “What did Sakusa tell you?”

“He told me not to worry.”

“Worry about what?”

That snaps you out of it.

You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. Then, you cross your arms over your chest, muttering out a response with feigned nonchalance, “Whatever.”

Atsumu protests, “Hey, I—”

“Where were you even going to take her?” you swiftly change the subject, and Atsumu decides that he’ll let it go — that’s what he’s been doing for a while, anyway, and another day really couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Dancing,” he says.

“Dancing?”

“Yes,” he responds, relaxing at the sight of your amusement. “I searched up unique date ideas and Google told me to take her dancing.”

“You should’ve just taken her to dinner,” you say. “Because you can’t dance.”

“That’s not true at all.”

“You were born with two left feet.”

“Quit lying, you’re only saying that because you’re mad at me.”

“I’m only telling you the truth!”

“I’m a good dancer!”

“You really aren’t. I thought that was established two weeks ago when we were playing Just Dance and you knocked over Aran’s vase.”

“That says nothing about my ability to—”

“Yes, it does.”

“I’ll prove it.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.”

“I’m serious,” he says, stretching his hand out for you to take.

You look at his palm and back up at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Not in any way, shape, or form.”

“We don’t even have music—”

“I’ll sing,” he shakes his hand. “C’mon, hurry up, my arm’s getting tired.”

Without a second thought, you interlace your fingers with his as he whisks you around the kitchen, his laugh loud when you yelp at his fast movements. He places his other hand on the small of your back to keep you from slipping on the tile as he leans to whisper into your ear.

“Any song requests?”

“None. You’re an awful singer,” you retort, bristling at the warmth of his breath.

“So, what are you saying? You’d rather waltz in silence?”

“Yes. And I wouldn’t even call this waltzing. We’re just sliding around the kitchen.”

“We’re waltzing,” Atsumu says firmly, daring you to argue. You only sigh, letting him pull you closer as you two clumsily move around the room. He sings your favourite song despite your insistence for him not to, humming the parts he doesn’t know and doing his best to hit every note.

You laugh into his chest, and he makes sure the sound is trapped in his ribcage so he’ll never have to go a day without it.

When the song reaches its end, you place your head on his shoulder, your breath piercing through his blazer and skin. “I’m sorry that I got mad at you,” you whisper despite the quiet, as if making your voice any louder will shatter the atmosphere. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs.

“It’s not, but thanks for trying to make me feel better,” you say timidly. “I guess I just got my hopes up.”

Atsumu tries to get the information out of you again, the very thing that’s been bothering you — and, as a result, him — for weeks. “About what?”

Your fingers tighten around his. “Nothing,” you answer, and if you notice just how much his posture deflates then you say nothing of it. “Can we stay like this for a little while?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says, rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. “We can stay for as long as you want.”

iii. Love

“You’re gonna get it in my eye!”

“Then stay still!”

“Just promise not to poke me.”

“I’ve already promised five times.”

“Then promise again!”

“Tsumu—” you sigh, slumping your shoulders as you meet his defiant gaze. “I promise I won’t get anything into your eyes or your mouth or your nostrils. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Atsumu narrows his eyes. “For some reason that doesn’t make me feel much better.”

You groan. “We’ve been over this millions of times—”

“Sue me for thinking you’re still mad at me.”

“I told you—”

“Sakusa got into my head,” he explains for the umpteenth time that evening, “he keeps on saying I’ve done something wrong, but he won’t tell me what, and he keeps looking at me as if I’ve committed a felony. His face keeps me up at night, it’s the reason why I’ve had so many nightmares recently—”

“Sakusa’s being a nuisance. Trust me, you haven’t done anything wrong,” you assure, your voice echoing off the walls of your tiny bathroom. “You have nothing to worry about, so stop acting like I’m trying to kill you with this face mask.”

He stares pointedly at the tub sitting next to you on the sink. “It’s scarily green,” he whispers conspiratorially. “Like, it’s Hulk-green. Nothing should be that green.”

“If you’re implying it’s poisonous, it’s not.”

“That’s what they want you to think.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you grumble, spreading the mask across his cheeks, ignoring his murmured whines about how cold it feels on his skin. “You weren’t acting like this last time.”

“You were using a different face mask last time,” he rebuts. “I liked the other one better than this one.”

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind the next time I go to the store,” you hum. “Maybe I’ll even take you with me, so you can choose the face mask. It’ll save me from your complaining in the future.”

“You love my complaining,” he replies quickly. “But I really should. I’d make your grocery trips so much more fun.”

“You’d get us kick out.”

“Would not!” Atsumu scoffs when you don’t even bother to hide your unconvinced mien and places his hands on either side of the marble countertop, trapping you against him and the sink. “I’ll prove it this weekend.”

You shake your head. “I’m not going this weekend. The fall festival is on Saturday, remember? I’m holding off spending money this week so I can buy a ton of cotton candy without feeling guilty.”

“Really?” he snorts. “You’re not gonna get wasted this year?”

“Definitely not. Last year was a nightmare.”

“You don’t even remember what happened.”

“Exactly,” you say, smoothing out the mask. “And you’re always taking care of me when I’m drunk, it makes me feel bad.”

Despite his proximity, you don’t seem to feel the intensity of his stare. His demeanour has softened in the past five minutes, smiling warmly at the pinch between your brows and the way your lips have twisted into a focussed frown.

This has happened countless times before — on all the other self-care nights, Atsumu finds himself in the four walls of your bathroom, free to admire you all he wants without the company of his friends and their teasing remarks. Though he’d never admit it, he prefers the quiet, because here, the both of you aren’t brushing off comments made about your relationship; here, it’s just you and him, pressed against the bathroom sink, worries left behind on the other side of the door.

Here, it’s so peaceful that Atsumu believes, for a few short moments, that everything will be okay.

“Don’t feel bad,” he says breathily, dreading the moment when you finish and he’s forced to pull away. “I like taking care of you.”

“You’re required to do it because we’re friends.”

“No, I like doing it,” he says again, ingraining the statement into your brain so it’ll stay there forever. “You don’t see me letting Bokuto or Hinata — hell, even Suna, stay over at my apartment and sleep in my bed.”

You pause your movements, eyes flickering to his. “What does that make me then?”

“Huh?”

“Bokuto, Hinata, and Suna are your friends, but you don’t pick them up from parties and let them say the night at your place.”

“Well, that’s cause I can’t be bothered most of the time, since they’re usually going to on-campus parties and my place is so far from—”

“But you picked me up a few nights ago,” you interrupt, and Atsumu is drawn to the determination in your irises more than he wants to admit. “And a couple weeks ago too, I think. You’ve been picking me up before I even moved in with Sakusa, and my old place was thirty minutes away.”

“What are you saying, Y/N?”

“What am I to you, Atsumu?”

He grips the countertop so tightly his knuckles are as white as the marble. His heart drums against his ribcage, so loud in the cavity of his chest that he wonders if you can hear it too.

“You’re my friend.”

“Like Bokuto? Or Hinata, or Su—?”

“No, of course not,” he scoffs. Comparing yourself to them is absurd. “It’s diff— you’re different.”

“Different how?”

Suddenly, everything feels stuffy. Tension floods the room until he’s neck-deep in it and drowning, all while you stare up at him, awaiting an answer.

“I—”

Someone knocks loudly on the door.

“Hey!” Bokuto. “Is someone in here?”

You don’t answer. The ball is in Atsumu’s court.

There’s an answer that lingers in his mind, one that he wants to give you despite the risk that it could destroy everything he’s ever known. But as his hesitation grows, the ring buoy that is Bokuto’s voice becomes more tempting — something to save him from this situation where he’s flailing in hope and what-ifs. Something to save him from your want and his dread and all the other sharp objects that could slice your friendship in two.

(Aren’t you the one who’s always saying he should be more responsible?

Doing this is the most responsible thing he could do, isn’t it?)

“We’ll be right out,” he responds, and just as he replies, you pull away from him in defeat.

Everything in his body tightens.

You turn to wash your hands. Through the mirror, he can see you blink rapidly and clench your jaw.

When he finally goes to exit, Bokuto stands impatiently on the other side. His eyebrows rise when he spots the hairband keeping Atsumu’s blond strands out of his face.

“That’s cute,” Bokuto coos, poking at the heart that sticks out from the material.

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, adjusting the band and letting his fingers brush against the plush heart. “It’s Y/N’s.”

The sun had set a long time ago.

In its absence is the moon, its light barely sufficient to lead you and Atsumu home — home being his apartment, but you’ve been there so much it might as well be your own. It’s alright, though, he thinks; your arm is interlinked with his, and that’s all he’ll ever need to guide him.

Your hips bump his as you both walk down the sidewalk, the air a melody of your laughs as he retells a childhood story about him and Osamu. You fail to refrain the teasing comments that fall from your lips about how he’s always been a troublemaker, long before you ever met him.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he’d said a couple minutes ago. “Since I’m your favourite and everything.”

You smile, and every time you do so, the more he believes that the bathroom incident has been forgotten.

But Atsumu’s not stupid. He senses your discomfort — it’s miniscule, but it’s there, and deep down he knows it’s all because of what happened last night.

Every Tuesday, you wait for his evening lecture to finish before you both walk back to his place to watch a movie. Some nights you leave before the clock strikes ten, most nights you stay over. It’s a routine that’s been implemented since he first met you, and never once has it ever felt tense.

Atsumu itches to fix it.

“Hey,” he pipes up, hoping to avoid any uncomfortable lulls in conversation. “You never told me how your date went.”

“My date?”

“Yeah. Bokuto says some guy from your Psychology class asked you out.”

“What?”

“At the party.”

You crinkle your nose in thought before a light bulb goes off in your head. “Are you talking about Kuroo?”

Atsumu’s eyes may as well bulge out of the sockets with how much they’ve widened. “Kuroo asked you out?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Well, yes. But he didn’t mean it. He only did it to get someone to stop bothering him.”

Atsumu frowns. “Then why did Bokuto say—?”

“Bokuto was drunk,” you snicker. “Plus, you know how much of a lightweight he is, and Hinata just kept on giving him drinks, so you can imagine how that went.”

“Not good, probably.”

“Nope,” you say. “Just imagine everything that could’ve gone wrong then double it.”

“Did he puke on Akaashi?”

“Yeah, and on Kuroo too.”

“See, that’s why I never let him stay the night.”

Your smile wavers and he pinches himself for saying anything in the first place.

“That’s probably the only good idea you’ve ever had,” you eventually say, but your voice is weaker than you intend it to be.

Atsumu can’t find the energy to argue.

He allows himself to be pulled down the street, your footsteps hasty compared to how he tries to drag his feet along the cement. Atsumu assumes you want to get this night over with, to spend only an hour — maybe two — with him before bidding goodbye, and the thought causes an ugly feeling to root itself into the pit of his stomach.

The wind whistles in warning. He should’ve expected something like this.

All good things come to an end is something he’s heard far too many times to count, but Atsumu is nothing if not an optimist, and even so, he never thought a saying such as that could ever apply to his friendship with you. Despite the hardships, the two of you have always pulled through.

But the clouds begin to drift over the moon, hindering its light, and his stomach churns at what’s to come.

Your voice, disguised as a remedy to soothe his unease, carries him forward. “Listen, I think I’ll head home after the movie.”

He blinks. “What?”

“I just want to sleep in my own bed tonight, y’know?”

“You can sleep in mine,” he suggests, his tone bordering on a plea. You always sleep in mine. “I can sleep on the couch.”

“It’s okay, Tsumu,” you reply. “You’re probably tired of seeing me all the time, anyway.”

“I’m not,” he insists.

You give him a tight smile in response.

Atsumu’s always believed he was good with words. His voice has failed him before, sure, and it’s not like it’s a secret that sometimes his carelessness lands him in undesirable situations, but he’s usually so quick on his feet. He knows what to say, and if he doesn’t, he can crank up the charm until everyone in the vicinity begins to suffocate on his charisma.

Miya Atsumu is rarely ever speechless.

But then you started acting different, and suddenly he couldn’t decipher your expressions or predict your every move. You would dance with him in the kitchen and tenderly apply skincare products on his face, but no matter how much he pulled you close, you would drift further away. You’d open up before brushing everything off as if he had nothing to worry about.

It's like you haven’t been paying attention at all. If it involved you, Atsumu would always worry.

The question slips out of his mouth too quickly for him to control. “Are you ever gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“What?”

He stops walking, and as a result, so do you. “Something’s been bothering you,” he says hoarsely. “And I was waiting it out because I thought you’d tell me, but… I feel like you never will.”

You lick your lips — to stall, he thinks, but doing so only spares you a second. “Do you have any guesses?”

“Huh?”

“You’re not an idiot,” you sigh. “You must have some idea.”

(And, perhaps, maybe a small part of him does. You’re his best friend, and he is yours, and you each earned that title by knowing the other like the moon knows the stars, like the stars know the sky, like the sky knows the sun.

He knows, you know he does. But this is irresponsible. It threatens everything).

“I don’t,” he lies.

“Atsumu,” you exhale, as if he’s entangled in your system, “do you really need me to say it?”

He doesn’t answer. You continue, anyway.

Three words are whispered into the dead of night, and the world tilts on its axis.

This was never part of the routine.

“Maybe I should just go home,” you murmur when he doesn’t speak. His fingers twitch, screaming at him to reach out for you as soon as you pull away. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Y/N—”

“Just let me go,” you say — you beg. “Please.”

His body screams, his nerves flare, but the messenger between his spinal cord and his brain fails to relay the message that he should do everything in his power to prevent you from leaving.

“Okay,” he responds. His voice sounds like it hasn’t been in use for years, tainted with defeat.

You turn to leave, and for the first time since you’ve met him, Atsumu doesn’t follow.

Atsumu’s moody, he has been for a while, and it doesn’t take long for everyone to realize it’s because of you.

Or, more specifically, the absence of you.

You’ve been spending more time by yourself than you have been with anyone else, cooped up in the safety of your bedroom and listening to — according to Sakusa — music that ranges from soft, heartbroken ballads, to hardcore fuck-you anthems. The lack of your presence is strange; you’ve always been a constant in Atsumu’s life, and to live without it leaves a lingering emptiness in his chest.

He'll catch glimpses of you sometimes on campus, and he feels, what he assumes to be, the same emotion people feel when they claim they’ve spotted Bigfoot.

For a moment, everything feels a little more bearable.

But then you disappear, leaving sorrow in your wake, and reality washes over him like an ice-cold bucket of water.

His moping is how he ends up tagging along with Bokuto and Hinata at the fall festival, trailing after them like an upset puppy while they frolic down the streets, gawking at all the stands and taste-testing every snack they come across. The plan was to have them cheer him up, to make him smile even if it’s only for a second, because when Atsumu is upset, it becomes everyone else’s problem.

Hinata offers him some funnel cake and Atsumu absentmindedly murmurs about how it’s your favourite. They all buy friendship bracelets and Atsumu buys one for you too because he knows how much you’d want one. They all clamber onto the carousel and Atsumu wonders if you’d fall off if you rode the horse.

Bokuto and Hinata get tired of it all eventually.

“He’s hopeless,” Bokuto cries when they reunite with Suna and Osamu. “He won’t stop whining.”

Atsumu opts for standing on his toes to look over the crowd in hopes of finding you instead of replying to his friend. His eyes drift first to the ring toss, then to the man selling cotton candy, then to the spinning teacups.

Nothing.

Osamu says something that finally catches his brother’s attention. “Well, Y/N’s not coming,” he waves his phone in the air, which is open on his message thread with you. “Said they were busy.”

Hinata huffs. “They’re only saying that cause Tsumu’s here.”

Bokuto slaps his arm. “Shoyo!”

“What? It’s true!” he exclaims defensively. “You know how they’re always on top of their assignments, I doubt they’re doing anything but watching TV and—”

“Yeah, but still, don’t say that! Isn’t Tsum-Tsum heartbroken enough?”

“I am not heartbroken,” Atsumu snarls.

Suna gives him a look. “Well…”

“I’m not!” he flails, frantically gesturing to himself to show that he’s perfectly fine. “I mean, yeah, am I a little upset? Yes. But heartbroken? You guys are just saying anything at this point, like—”

Osamu interrupts him before he can continue rambling and digging himself into a bigger hole. “What did you even do, anyway?”

The Miya twins are notorious on campus for their bickering, but Atsumu thought that in this situation, at least his own brother would be on his side. “What makes you think this is all my fault?”

Osamu raises an eyebrow, mocking and patronizing. “Well, for one—”

“If anything,” Atsumu continues, hurriedly cutting him off, “I should be the one avoiding them. Not that I’d want to, I’d never want to, obviously, but if we were getting technical then they should be the one worrying about me and not the other way around.”

Hinata speaks, mouth full of the last of his funnel cake. “Who says they don’t worry about you?”

“I— wait, what?”

“They’re always asking me and Shoyo about how you’re doing,” Bokuto chirps. “How screwed up could things be that you won’t talk to each other?”

Atsumu inhales, and he feels the world begin to collapse into him. Unsure of what to say, unsure of what to think, unsure if it’s fair of him to reach for his phone and hope you’ll answer his calls. He knows why the two of you have found yourselves here, standing on opposite sides of a field of regret and hurt. He knows, that in his attempt to dodge change, he blew something up in the process.

Suna tilts his head in question. “Atsumu. What happened?”

Atsumu exhales. “They told me that—” the words lodge themselves in his throat, unwilling to leave.

But they all understand.

“Huh,” Suna hums. “Didn’t think they had it in them.”

“What did you reply with?” Osamu asks.

Atsumu prepares himself for their rage. “Nothing.”

He’s met with silence. Then, incredulously, Suna asks, “Are you stupid?”

Osamu answers for him. “Chronically so.”

Atsumu doesn’t have the heart to respond to the jab, and the severity of the situation significantly increases.

Hinata bites the inside of his cheek in thought. “I think he’s broken.”

Bokuto leans forward to study Atsumu’s expression as much as he can before the latter waves him off. With a frown, Bokuto steps back and looks around the grounds, hoping to find something that’ll cheer Atsumu up and make tonight not a complete bust.

A tent, flashy and sparkly and enchanting, lures him in.

Osamu looks like he’s about to say something, but before he can utter a word, Bokuto tugs on Atsumu’s sleeve and drags him to the tent, ignoring his protests. “I have an idea,” he says reassuringly, but it does nothing to calm his friend. “Trust me on this.”

Atsumu snatches his arm back and rubs it as if Bokuto’s harmed him. He cranes his neck around to look at the sign just outside the tent, and scowls at the pink and yellow doodles on the chalkboard.

“This is a psychic.”

Bokuto nods vigorously. “Yes.”

“Your idea of cheering me up is having me scammed?”

Bokuto pouts. “You love stuff like this.”

He’s not wrong. If it were any other day, this place would be Atsumu’s first stop. He’d be the one begging people to join him despite the fact that he knows the consequences involve a dent in his bank account, but today, predictions of his future are the last thing on his mind. Today, convincing people to get their fortune read is the least of his desires, because you aren’t trying to convince people with him.

There’s no point being here without you.

Atsumu moves to get out of line.

“Hey, dude,” Bokuto whines and holds onto his arm to keep him in place. “Just give it a try. It can’t hurt, can it?”

“Boku—”

“It’ll be fun!” he says cheerily. “Maybe it’ll give you some insight on how to apologize to Y/N.”

Atsumu wants nothing more than to move — to leave — but Bokuto mastered the art of the puppy dog eyes long before he could talk, and the moment he flashes them Atsumu realizes he has no other choice but to stay.

When he steps into the tent, the atmosphere changes.

He tugs on the sleeves of his windbreaker when the autumn air threatens to pierce his skin, and reluctantly sits down on the chair across from the psychic. She eyes his every move, trying to figure out what type of customer he might be — someone who’s just doing this for fun, or someone who’s going through a rough patch, or someone who needs a stranger to light the path they need to walk down.

Atsumu fidgets in his seat.

“You’re here for a reading?”

A shrug and feigned indifference are what she receives as an answer. “Sure.”

His mask of nonchalance begins to slip when the reading starts, growing restless as he checks the time on his watch and calculating the probability of you still being awake. He glances over his shoulder, praying to whichever deity who’ll listen that Bokuto will come in and drag him out once he’s realized that this is the last thing Atsumu wants.

You are not here, and his body stings whenever the reminder worms its way into his mind.

His uneasiness must amuse the psychic, because when he finally looks back at her, she’s grinning, knotting his stomach in worry.

She asks him a dreadful question, made of nuts and bolts and things that rub salt in the wound of his heart.

What is it that you desire most, boy?

Atsumu freezes, plastering a confused smile on his face. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m sure you know. Is it strength?”

Definitely not, Atsumu wants to say. He’s more than capable enough to lift heavy boxes, he doesn’t have to take multiple trips to move things from point A to point B, he doesn’t struggle carrying his friends’ slump and inebriated bodies into a bed.

Atsumu is strong. He’s proved it during his frequent trips to the gym and by winning arm-wrestling contests. He wears the trait like a badge of honour, a reminder.

He does not need any more physical strength.

He checks his watch and wonders if you’ve brushed your teeth and dragged yourself to bed.

The psychic pushes. “Power?”

Atsumu briefly shakes his head, a movement so miniscule it’s a surprise the woman catches it.

It used to be such a thrill, the popularity that came with his volleyball reign. He used to ride that horse and sit in that throne with pride, he let the excitement course through him and, for a while, let himself believe the squeals that came with victory was interchangeable with love.

But power does not compare. He was foolish to believe nothing could beat the rush that came with the admiration — the shouts of his name in the bleachers, the ever-growing follower count, the people confessing their infatuation whenever they caught him alone.

They do not know who he is underneath the volleyball uniform. They don’t know that he likes to go to the diner after games and order a strawberry milkshake, or that his bottom drawer is filled to the brim with spare clothes for you, or that his favourite nights are spent with you applying a face mask to his skin.

They will never know him as much as you do.

The psychic leans forward. “Love?”

Atsumu clenches his jaw. Yes, would be the short answer, but to say that without an explanation would mean to lie, and he’s never been a good liar. Because Atsumu’s always been loved — not by the crowds or the student body — but by his friends, his family, you.

You gave your heart to him, and he noticed too late that the bleeding organ resided in the palm of his hand, cracked and yearning and brave. And after he realized this, he selfishly craved for more, even though he knew it scared him. He has been in relationships before, but none of them crossed the threshold of what truly mattered — the intimate conversations, the dances in the kitchen at midnight, the confessions murmured under the duvet.

So, perhaps, yes, Atsumu desires love, but the one thing he supposes he wants more is courage.

The psychic smiles. “Ah. Bingo. So—”

“Miya.”

Atsumu whips his head around to find Sakusa standing at the entrance, skillfully ignoring the protests behind him to get in line and wait his turn. Sakusa raises an eyebrow at the situation Atsumu’s found himself in, but saves him from his judgement to state, “Bokuto told me you were in here.”

“Excuse me,” the woman chirps. “We’re in the middle of something.”

“If you think a scam is what’ll solve your problems, then you’re stupider than I thought,” Sakusa says.

Atsumu sighs. “You came here just to tell me that?”

“Well, yeah,” Sakusa shrugs. “There’s a simpler solution to all of this.”

“Okay, well—”

“Talk to them,” Sakusa interrupts, exhausted. “Before they give up.”

Atsumu kisses his teeth, changing his position in his chair so he’s fully facing Sakusa. “Since when were you the type to give advice?”

Sakusa ignores his retort with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes.

“I have never seen you cower before, Miya,” Sakusa says, and the words are like needles on his skin. “Don’t let the first time you do so be now.”

Atsumu inhales shakily. “I don’t—”

“They got Hinge a few days ago,” Sakusa deadpans. Atsumu stiffens. “Don’t lose to some hack they found on a dating app.”

Atsumu looks from his friend to the clairvoyant before flashing her a sheepish smile and shooting clumsily out of his chair. The words that tumble from his mouth are barely coherent, and the last thing he hears before he exits the tent is Sakusa mumbling moron under his breath.

The journey from the festival to your apartment is a blur. He vaguely recalls running past his friends and returning their questioning shouts with a wave of his hand and getting angry at least two cars who cut him on the road, before he ends up in front of your door, nose tinged red from the cold.

His knocks are insistent.

“I’m coming, God, be patient,” he hears you say before you open the door to see him, and your annoyance is wiped away in seconds.

“Hi,” he says, out of breath from running up three flights of stairs after he got impatient waiting for the elevator. His eyes land on the blanket you’ve wrapped over your shoulders, and his lips quirk up at the familiar pattern. “Didn’t I get you that?”

You tug on the material defensively. “What are you doing here?” you ask. “And what the hell are you wearing? Did you not look at the weather before you left the house? It’s freezing outside, you idiot, you should be wearing a thicker jacket. And your face is so red! And your hands! They’re gonna get all dry if you don’t wear gloves! How many times do I have to tell you to dress for the weather otherwise you’ll get sick and…”

Atsumu rasps, “And?”

You gulp, taking a step back to distance yourself. “And you shouldn’t be here,” you say, sending a knife to his chest. “I thought you were at the festival.”

“That’s why you didn’t come,” he concludes. “Because I was there.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do?” you snap. “I told you I loved you and you looked at me like I was crazy.”

“I didn’t.”

“Whatever,” you bark. “My point still stands. You shouldn’t be here.”

He nods. “I know.”

“Then why are you?”

Eight letters are whispered into the darkness of the entryway, and the world is thrown off-balance.

“I love you,” he says, surprising himself with just how easy the words escape after he lets them, “and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your lips part in surprise. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeats. “And I should’ve told you sooner, but I— I was scared—”

“Then why are you telling me now?”

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “Love conquers all, I guess. My fear included.”

“You came all the way here to tell me that?”

He risks a step towards you and his heart flutters when you don’t move away. “I ran out of a psychic’s tent, too.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he murmurs. “That’s not important right now.”

“It sounds pretty important, I mean, you mentioned it and everything.”

“It’s not.”

“What exactly is more important than that?”

“Your forgiveness, actually.”

You huff. “Believe it or not, forgiveness doesn’t come so easily, Atsumu.”

“Can I kiss you, then?” he questions innocently, placing a hand against your cheek. “Will you take that as an apology?”

You still, licking your lips as you try to maintain your defiant stance. “…That won’t work every time you make me mad, you know.”

He tries his best not to smirk. “Is that a yes?”

“I hate you.”

He lets his lips hover over yours, and he’s not sure if the loud heartbeat ringing in his ears is his or yours (or maybe a mixture of both). “Is that yes?” he asks again, searching your eyes for any signs of discomfort.

Your eyes flicker to his mouth and then you mumble, “Yes.”

Atsumu pinches himself before capturing his lips with yours, eager and desperate, to kiss you with enough pent-up want and need to cause you to stumble. He’s gentle in the way he cradles your face, as if the world has found itself in his hands, still beautiful despite how much he’s hurt it.

He’ll make up for hurting you later, but for now he’ll allow himself to be selfish.

I love you, he whispers into your mouth, and you capture the confession with your own and let it live in your beating heart.

I love you, he whispers into your neck as you both stumble into the kitchen, making sure to tattoo the words into your skin so you’ll never forget.

“I love you,” he whispers one last time as the blanket covers you both and he’s sure you’ve lulled to sleep with your ear against his chest and his thumb drawing hearts on your shoulder, “so, so much.”

Slumber takes over you both, blanketing your smiling figures with hope and love.

#atsumu #miya atsumu #hq #haikyuu #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #atsumu angst #miya atsumu angst #haikyuu angst #hq angst #fic: miya atsumu and the chronic lovesick disease

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leaderwonim · 25 days

Text

MR. FUCKING BRIGHTSIDE

pairing. slytherin!jake x hufflepuff!fem!reader

summary. although sim jaeyun constantly surrounds himself with douchebags and looks like he could stomp all over a girl’s heart; you knew the real him that was deep inside. but did you really?

genre. hogwarts!au, ANGST, bits of fluff, right person wrong circumstances, forbidden/secret love

warnings. jake can be a bit of an asshole, the insult “mudblood” is used, slytherin gets shitted on as a house (dw, i’m a slytherin 😭)

Sim Jaeyun, or everybody knew him as Jake, the sixth year Slytherin, seeker of his house’s Quidditch team, and nevertheless, charming to every girl that has stepped foot in his proximity.

Half of your friends would disagree—that he was not charming but rather just another slithering snake in the worst possible house at Hogwarts.

Jake’s friend group consisted of three people: Draco Malfoy, Blaise, and Pansy Parkinson. They just so happen to be an insufferable lot, maybe except Blaise who minded his own business half of the time.

“Today you will be working in pairs.” Professor McGonagall states, fixing her glasses as she holds a stroll of paper. “I’ve already decided them, absolutely no changes.”

There’s groans that fill the room, one of whom you recognize as no other than Jake.

“Seriously? I wanted to pair up with Blaise!” He whines, earning a glare from Draco. “What? C’mon Dray, we both know you and I don’t get anything done.”

“Alright,” Professor McGonagall clears her throat. “Blaise Zabini with Nancy Drumswell, Aidan Callaghan with Hermione Granger, Harry Potter with Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy with Pansy Parkinson, and finally, Jaeyun Sim with Y/N L/N.”

You don’t blink when you realize who your partner is. Rather, you just sigh a bit in defeat, coming to the conclusion that you cannot do anything to convince McGonagall to change partners.

“Hey.” Jake plops himself down on the seat next to you, laughing as Draco gives him a shove on the way to his own table.

“Hi.” You murmur, suddenly finding your yellow robe more interesting than him.

“I’ve never been paired with a Hufflepuff before.” He grins, the shit eating grin that weirdly captives your senses. “Are you guys as nice as you claim to be?”

“I don’t know Jaeyun, you tell me.”

Jake’s eyes widen before he lets out a giggle. “Jaeyun? No one ever calls me that anymore.”

You shrug, sliding him the piece of paper with the instructions to your project. “You can stop by the Hufflepuff dormitories at 8, I’ll be done with dinner by then and I’ll open it for you.”

“Sounds like a plan sweetheart.”

You cringe at his words, the obvious disdain on your face makes him laugh even harder.

“I’ll see you then.” He whispers, and just like a movie, stands up as soon as McGonagall dismisses the class, merging into one with his friends.

♡;

Just as the clock struck eight, you heard a knock. Your books, pens, and parchment were spread out in front of you, eagerly waiting to be used.

As you slowly get up to open the door, you’re met face to face with Jake, who entered the room with a confident stride

"Hey there, Y/N," Jake greeted, flashing you a charming smile as he took a seat across from your side of the table.

"Hey," you politely turn his smile. "Ready to tackle this project?"

"Absolutely," he affirmed, pulling out his own notes and spreading them out on the table. "I've got some ideas already. How about you?"

You nodded, slightly impressed by Jake's readiness to dive into the work. "I've been brainstorming as well. Maybe we can combine our ideas and come up with something great."

As the two of you began discussing your approaches to the project, youcouldn't help but notice how articulate and intelligent Jake was when he wasn't surrounded by his usual group of friends. His confidence shone through, but it was paired with a genuine interest in the subject matter that caught you off guard.

"You sure sound different when you’re not around Draco," You remarked.

Jake only chuckled, a hint of self-deprecation in his voice. "Yeah, well, I guess I don't always show this side of me around my friends. They have a different idea of what's cool."

You can only nod in understanding, realizing that Jake was more complex than you had initially assumed.

As you continued working, you couldn’t help but find yourself paying closer attention to the small details about him—the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the soft lilt in his voice when he explained a concept, the way his eyes sparkled with passion for the project.

"Thanks for coming, Jake," you say, offering him a genuine smile. "I really enjoyed working with you."

Jake returned your smile, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sent a sudden flutter through your heart. "Anytime, Y/N. I had a great time too."

As you bid each other goodnight, you couldn’t help but suddenly miss his presence, something you didn’t expect to happen with just one session with him.

♡;

In your second studying session, you and Jake found yourselves engrossed in their project once again. This time, you two decided to move to a quiet corner of the library, away from prying eyes and distractions. The Hufflepuff dorms were too crowded, and you knew you’d rather die than step into the Slytherin dormitory as a Hufflepuff.

As you discussed your research findings, you couldn't help but notice how Jake's demeanor had softened since your last meeting. He seemed more relaxed, more open, as if he felt comfortable letting his guard down around you.

Jake suddenly reached across the table to grab a book, his hand brushing against yours in the process. It was a simple gesture, but it sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins, leaving you quite literally breathless for a moment. “Here Y/N, I heard this book was good for this particular topic.”

Your eyes met briefly, and you felt your cheeks flush with warmth.

“Thanks,” you murmur, looking down slightly.

Jake smiled back at you, seemingly oblivious to the effect his touch had on you. For a person who charms so much girls, you’d think he know how much his advances affected others.

“No problem, seems like we got a lot done within these 2 days huh?”

"Yeah, it seems so," you reply softly.

Even though it had only been 2 nights, in those quiet moments, away from the prying eyes of their classmates, you had realized just how much you actually enjoyed Jake's company. He wasn't just the annoying Slytherin she had initially pegged him to be—he was kind, intelligent, and surprisingly easy to talk to.

"I guess that's it for tonight," Jake said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “Can’t believe they only allow Prefects in the library past ten.”

"Yeah," you groan, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of saying goodbye. "But we'll see each other again soon, right?"

Jake nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Definitely. Let’s just hope Malfoy doesn’t ruin it.”

♡;

As you made your way through the corridors of Hogwarts with Hermione, you spotted Jake surrounded by his Slytherin friends, including Draco and Pansy. Suddenly feeling the wave of confidence at the sight of him, you decided to muster up the courage to approach him.

But as you drew nearer, you noticed a subtle shift in Jake's demeanor. His usual friendly expression hardened, and a smirk spread across his lips as he turned to face you and Hermione.

"Look who it is, boys," Draco says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Little Miss Hufflepuff herself."

Jake and Pansy chuckled, exchanging knowing glances with Draco as if they were in on some inside joke. Your smile faltered, confusion and hurt swirling in your chest as you struggled to make sense of Jake's sudden change in attitude.

"Um, hi, Jaeyun," you replied, voice barely above a whisper as you fought to keep her composure.

"Seriously? Jaeyun? That’s hysterical.” Pansy laughs, as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

“What's the matter, Y/N? Can't find anyone from your own house so you bother our Jake here?” Draco continues to taunt you, his words like daggers aimed straight at your heart. “Or should I say Jaeyun?”

You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment as the laughter of Jake's friends echoed in your ears. You had never felt so small, so insignificant to the group in front of you.

“I was hoping to discuss our project.” You say quietly, looking at anyone but Jake.

Hermione could sense your hostility, pulling you close to her side as she gave Draco a snarl.

“Listen Y/N,” Jake says, “all that crap you Hufflepuffs preach about loving each other and expressing feelings is a lie. No one really cares about what you have to say.”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Hermione says, shielding you by putting herself in front of your frame. “What has gotten into you?”

But Jake just shrugged her off, his smirk widening into a sneer. "Mind your own business, mudblood. This doesn't concern you."

Feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you quickly turn on your heel and fled down the corridor, desperate to escape the humiliation of Jake's cruel words.

Had you really been so stupid to place your trust in Sim Jaeyun knowing full well his reputation? By the looks of it, all answers pointed to yes.

♡;

By 7pm, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the surface of the Black Lake just in front of the Slytherin Common Rooms.

“Y/N?” Almost as if he knew exactly where you were, Jake shows up in front of you, making you give him a glare.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he murmured, his voice tinged with remorse as he avoided your gaze. He takes a seat next to you on the grass, his fingers tracing patterns across them in nervousness. "I messed up back there. I let my pride get the best of me, and I hurt you in the process. I should have stood up for you."

You sighed, your heart heavy with disappointment but softened by Jake's sincerity.

“I don’t get it,” you say. “One moment you’re all kind and sincere around me, and the next, you say all these things like I’m worth nothing.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the air filled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant calls of birds. Then, Jake spoke again, his voice hesitant but earnest. "I guess my friends just have an influence on me that I can’t control. I’m sorry for what I said earlier, you’re one of the kindest people I've ever met, Y/N. I admire that about you."

You slightly smiled, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks. "Thank you, Jake. That means a lot to me."

As the sky darkened and stars began to twinkle overhead, the two of you continued to talk, laughter mingling with the night air.

♡;

The next night was one of the more important nights at Hogwarts. Everybody had finished their exams—and the Ravenclaws decided to throw a party at their Commons.

The music throbbed as you entered with Ron Weasley, who, at the sight of his twin brothers, ran towards them. You roll your eyes at his behavior, and start pulsing through the crowded room, a plastic smile plastered on your face.

You notice Jake in the corner, sipping on what looked like a bottle of beer. He exchanged nods and greetings with those around him, his eyes scanning the room for something—someone.

But before you could gawk at him any longer, Draco cut in smoothly, his tone laced with mockery. "Oh, look who decided to show up. Did you bring your Hufflepuff friend to the party, Jake? How charming."

Pansy giggled, her eyes glittering with malice as she looked at you up and down. "I didn't know us Slytherins were into charity work."

“Guys, seriously? Cut it out,” Jake gulps, eyes directly meeting yours.

“He’s right,” Blaise says, and you swear it’s the most you’ve ever heard out of him. “Don’t ruin the party.”

“Whatever.” Pansy throws her hand in mock surrender. “Wouldn’t want to make the Hufflepuff cry.”

Hermione comes to your rescue right after Pansy throws you a glare.

“Piss off.” She says, interlocking her arms with yours.

“Thanks ‘Mione.” You thank her softly as you’re lead away from the lot. “For saving me back there.”

“Always,” she smiles. “Now cmon, I heard Ron’s already drunk!”

You two giggle at that, you letting Hermione lead the way into the crowd of people.

♡;

It’s about 2 hours later and the Ravenclaw party is still loud as ever, filled with with laughter and music.

Despite the Weasley twins making a full ruckus of themselves, your eyes were drawn to a figure slumped in a corner. It was Jake, only this time, he looked uncharacteristically vulnerable, his face pale and contorted with some type of emotion you hadn’t seen before.

Concern etched onto your features, and your body felt itself navigating through the crowd of people until you’re knelt beside him. "Jake? Are you alright? Where’s Draco?”

He lifted his head, and you swore you felt your heart clenched at the sight of his glassy eyes and trembling lips. "I'm fine," he mumbled, but his voice betrayed the lie.

"No, you're not," you reply softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Jake swallowed hard, his gaze flickering with a mix of emotions. "It's... it's nothing," he slurred, but his words lacked conviction.

You stayed silent, sensing he needed to unburden himself. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice raw with emotion. "Do you think I’m good for nothing?”

"What?" You asked gently, your heart sinking as you watched him struggle to form his thoughts.

"I mean look at this, look at me," Jake gestured vaguely, gesturing to the party around the two of you. "This charade I constantly put on. Pretending to be someone I'm not."

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Jake trailed off, his breath hitching. "Was it all worth the six years of be pretending to be who I wasn’t? Pretending to be the egoistic charming Slytherin everyone claims to know so well?”

Jake pauses before looking up at you, his eyes swimming with unshed tears. "You know I care about you a lot, right? I like you, a lot.”

“You do?” You say quietly, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes.

“But we just can’t.”

“What?”

“Why not?”

"Because,” Jake's voice cracked, and he looked away. "Because I wish you were in Slytherin."

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces at his words. You almost knew it then, with a painful realization that you could never compete with the loyalty he felt towards his house and the expectations placed upon him by his housemates.

Tears stung your eyes as you realized there was nothing she could do to change his mind. With a heavy heart, you rose to your feet.

“Well I’m sorry then, Jake.” You say, turning around so he wouldn’t see your tears.

And as you walked away, the echoes of his confession lingered in your mind, haunting your thoughts with the bitter realization that sometimes, love simply wasn't enough.

986 notes · View notes

wonysugar · 3 months

Text

doing what’s right | huh yunjin

synopsis : you were always on top of your shit, and yunjin hated your fucking guts for it.

pairing : yunjin x fem!reader

genre : bully trope?? smut

tags : major hate sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism. yunjin’s a bitch, reader’s a goody two shoes and a virgin, jealousy, classroom, public sex kinda? teacherxstudent roleplay, is this considered tag teaming?? degrading names, stripping, slapping (like once but still), fingering, slight boob play, chaewon mention kinda? it’s hinted, dumbification lowkey? that funky stuff~~

!! warnings : dubcon turned consensual, threats of blackmail, degradation, humiliation, bullying, harassment, yknow… that stuff so don’t read if any of this makes you uncomfy please !!

word count : 3.2k

a/n : angsty yunjin coming out soon dw.. i just loved y’all too much to release unwarranted ass angst without some sort of apology beforehand😭enjoy! been wanting to write more dark stuff since you guys really liked minjeong? so YAYY!! also this is like so not proofread if you see any mistakes please ignore as i am so tiredgkefmm

also also obviously NEVER DO THIS TO ANYONE EVER THIS IS TRULY HORRENDOUS :(( and ofc if it’s being done to you CALL THE POLICE DO SMTHH THIS IS ACTUALLY HORRIBLEE?? this is purely fiction and for entertainment purposes and does not reflect my thoughts!!

“hey y/n, since you like studying so damn much, how about you do my assignments for me?” her friends giggled, enjoying the show, “how’s that sound, hm? i’m sure you’d enjoy it.”

you continued to write into your notebook, tending to your work as you ignored the unfunny comments that the group of annoying girls sent towards you, the most distracting one of them all being thrown was huh yunjin’s. you just kept trying to focus on the math equation in front of you as you heard their loud giggles and mumbles behind you.

it was confusing. she’d seem really nice if you didn’t know her, since she rarely was ever mean to other students. plus, she looked really friendly and put together, it was almost welcoming; her ginger hair always styled perfectly, her full face of gorgeous makeup that she somehow managed to put on everyday, the nice outfits she’d pull with such a basic uniform. no really, who knew you could do so much with just a blazer and a skirt? she looked and acted so kind towards everyone.

except you.

as it turns out, she just had a thing against you, apparently. you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it wasn’t difficult to guess that she fucking hated your guts, it was apparent with how she’d glare at you whenever you walked past her, books in hand, or how she’d look at her friends whenever you rose your hand, putting on a mocking smile as she nodded along to you. i mean, it’s not like she pretended to like you, you were very aware of her feelings towards you.

you didn’t really care, though.

sure, you were kind of bummed out that somebody as kind-looking as yunjin disliked you at first, but what could you do, in the end? not everybody was gonna end up liking you, and that was okay. that’s what society is, after all. some people will like you, some people simply will not, and that’s just life. still, though, it’s not like you did anything to cause her to hate you.. did you?

nonetheless, slowly but surely, you started getting invested in your task again, the remarks of the girls eventually being tuned out of your brain as you grabbed your calculator.

that is, until you felt her more than overwhelming presence behind your shoulder. you could only sigh,

god damn it.

she pulled on a strand of your hair as she threw her history book on the desk, startling you, “d’you hear me, bitch? the bell rang ages ago, either you go home and leave, or you stay here, be a useful little student and do my work. your choice.”

you heard her friends cackle on the other side of the classroom as she pestered you.

god, and you were actually getting something done, for once.

standing up in a swift motion, you groaned and quickly picked up all of your things before shoving them inside your bag, getting ready to leave.

“since you asked so nicely.” was all you said, annoyed and heading straight for the door, your hand almost coming in contact with the doorknob. you were about to leave.

until she grabbed your hair and pulled you back, making you land butt-first on the ground, earning a collective laugh from the others.

“ow— w-what the fuck is wrong with you???” you yelled, grabbing the back of your hair, where she pulled on, caressing said spot in hopes of soothing it.

“what’s wrong with you? i ask you a question, and you don’t answer?? not what i expected from miss goody-two-shoes..” she mocked, wearing a fake pout as she slightly tilted her head, “i’m incredibly disappointed, y/n..”

you could only furrow your eyebrows and narrow your eyes at her, because what the fuck was actually wrong with her?? yeah, she was always annoying, but she never got violent with you, what changed today?

“no seriously, yunjin, what did i ever do to you?” you stood back up, unconsciously leaving your bag on the floor, “ever since i’ve met you, you’ve just been nothing but a bitch to me, and only me. seriously, tell me, what did i do to you?”

she, in response, only looked back at her friends who were sitting back and watching you two go at it, no really, they even grabbed chairs.

“what didn’t you do?” when she looked back at you, something in her eyes shifted, her gaze was no longer playful, it seemed evil, “everytime i look at you, you’re always on top of your shit, always doing what’s right. i mean— for fuck’s sake, your posture’s always straight, your assignments are always done, your grades are fucking perfect, your goddamn locker’s organized… and at lunch? you’re doing homework. you’re so— you’re just so fucking annoying. you realize that, right?”

…was this seriously what this was all about? you took school seriously, and she didn’t, so she was.. mad about it?? i mean— you’re literal seniors, of course you were gonna take school seriously? you looked back at her, still processing everything. you were perplexed, and she was stepping closer to you as you backed away, unconsciously pinning yourself against the wall.

“i-im sorry..? i really didn’t mean to make it seem like i was rubbing it in your face—”

“see? there you go again, doing what’s right, as per usual. apologizing, being the bigger person, making me seem like the bitch here, right? i see right through your facade, y/n, you think you’re better than everyone, when really, you’re the worst kind of person out there.”

at this point, she was inches away from your face, her gaze piercing through your soul like she was looking into the deep depths of your personality, searching for any sort of crack in your cool and composed demeanor. you always seemed so sure of yourself, she wanted to see you lose it, she wanted to see you lose control over everything around you, she was dying to see it..

but, much to her dismay, she found nothing.

“you’re fucking insane.” was what you whispered, looking at her with nothing but arrogance and worry in your expression. she stared back at you some more, before allowing herself to crack a distorted smile. what was she—

before you knew it, her lips roughly came into contact with yours as she grabbed your face, kissing you like she’d die if she didn’t. you were thrown off-guard, way off guard, especially because of how sudden this was from her, because of how sudden this was altogether. plus, the fact that you didn’t push her away just made it all so much more puzzling, why didn’t you? you were baffled, so baffled that you didn’t even realize her free hand roaming your body. she caressed all over your lower stomach, fingers tracing your thighs before reaching for your lower back, reaching under your skirt and cupping your ass almost immediately after her hand landed on it.

still hungrily making out with you, her hand ended up on one of your pockets, the one containing the classroom keys. of course, the teacher always trusted that you’d lock the classroom once you were done with your work, so he didn’t mind giving you the responsibility.

you didn’t even realize that she reached into the pocket and grabbed the keys, that is, until she quickly pulled away afterwards, leaving you breathless. as you opened your eyes again and caught your breath, you saw yunjin throw the keys behind her shoulder, “here,” the obnoxious sound of them being tossed around occupying your thoughts, “lock the door.”

watching as one of the other girls scrambled to catch them, you spoke up, “w-what are you—“

a loud slap resonated through the classroom before leaving space for silence to settle in, your face was stinging. then, when you raised your hand to put it on your cheek, trying to understand what on earth was actually going on, you heard the click of the lock.

“shut the fuck up.” she said, quickly grabbing you and your attention by the jaw and forcefully making you face her before putting on the fake cutesy face you know so well, talking to you as she would a stupid puppy,

“let’s play a little game, hm?” she slightly leaned in, in order to face you directly, “it’s gonna be called ‘how to be a good student’, the rules are simple; you’re gonna pretend that i’m your teacher and i’ll tell you to do certain things, you just have to obey. you can do that for me, right?”

you gulped, fear plastered all over your expression as you looked back at her.. but also, there was a hint of anticipation? what was she gonna force you to do?? the sane part of yourself tried shaking it off, but to no avail. it was probably way wrong to admit, fucked, even.. but you wanted to see how far she would go. you wanted to see what she wanted to do to you.

you were scared, sure, but also somewhat excited.

she patted your cheek, bringing you back to the reality before you, her friends still behind her, sick smiles as they watched, “understood?” she asked.

you could only reluctantly nod in response.

“words, dumb bitch. you’re usually really good at using those, aren’t you?” she tilted her head, eyeing your legs as her hand slightly fiddled with your skirt before her cold gaze went back on yours, “so, use them.”

your breathing getting heavier, you tried to push away all of the ridiculous thoughts you had, why the fuck were you yearning whatever she was planning? you quietly and unintentionally whined, hoping that she didn’t hear, then you eventually managed to choke up a reply, “y-yes.”

she scoffed, “yes what? i’m sure you don’t talk to teachers like that, do you?”

you closed your eyes momentarily, “yes.. m-miss.”

she snickered, letting out a mocking laugh shortly after as she mumbled something along the lines of ‘i didn’t think you would actually do it.’, raising her eyebrows in the process. her friends seemed rather amused, too, since they were all cracking up behind yunjin, one of them even grabbed her phone and started recording.

wait.

recording??

“t-the phone— what are you doing w-why are you recording—“

the girl in front of you rolled her eyes while backing away from you, sighing exasperatedly, “relax, if you just do as i say and listen to me, i promise you that we’re not posting it anywhere. okay?”

your reputation, your scholarship, she was risking all of it. what if your parents— you couldn’t even finish that thought without feeling chills down your spine

at this point, you had no choice but to trust her words.

“now, strip.” she added.

you hesitated, looking at every corner of the room, your brain desperately trying to forget that there were people watching you attentively.

after a few seconds, your eyes eventually landed on the ginger standing in front of you, arms crossed. her gaze stern as she looked at you; you particularly noticed how she seemed to be devouring your entire body only using her hooded eyes.

that, for some reason, gave you the willpower to do as she told you to.

you slowly and nervously unbuttoned your blazer and looked straight at her, your eyebrows slightly upturned, which earned a smirk from yunjin.

you looked like a prey being cornered by its predator, it drove her insane.

you paid no particular attention to the friends that were screaming, cheering you on and insisting that you take it off faster, treating this whole situation like it was a striptease. once you were only in your bra, you moved on over to your skirt, unzipping the side and slowly sliding it down, still unsure of whatever the fuck you were doing at that moment.

yunjin seemed pleased, very pleased.

“good girl.” the way her tongue rolled off the top of her mouth saying that gave you goosebumps, “now, go bend over that desk and wait.” she added, pointing to… the teacher’s desk.

a surge of shame suddenly washed over you when you remembered the amount of trust that said-teacher had in you. what would he think of you if he knew you were being so inappropriate in his workspace? as if the wall you were standing against gave you some sort of comfort, you didn’t want to move.

at all.

yunjin’s eyebrows furrowed, “come on, y/n.” she said, with a familiar, fear-inducing playful tone, “bend over that fucking desk or i swear i’m gonna make you regret ever attending your stupid classes.”

you were terrified, you knew she was fully capable of physically hurting you, she’s already done it up until now.

so you did what she ordered.

you obeyed.

you sucked up your embarrassment you felt in the process of walking past her friends, half naked and leaning against the desk. you kept your head down; feeling their phone cameras on you, you wanted to hope that hiding your face would make you feel better, so you just kept looking down. until,

a few seconds after, you heard noise behind you, noise that sounded like… bag scrambling? like someone was actively looking for something specific, which undeniably got you very worried.

you remembered your bag, the vision of you leaving it on the floor kept replaying in your mind.

fuck?

nonetheless, said sound only lasted for a few more seconds before stopping abruptly. then, you heard footsteps, who you could only assume were yunjin’s, get closer to you—

you saw a manicured hand slide a sheet of paper, a pencil and a calculator across the table…

the sheet.. was your math homework. the one you were working on not too long ago, it was in front of you.

then, feeling a hand gently rub on your lower back as the girls in the room giggled, you flinched slightly. “finish this assignment.” she ordered, cold, before adding onto it, “and under no circumstances do you move, okay?”

you breathed heavily, nodding. “y-yes miss..” was what you said, feeling a piece of your dignity leave your body with each second that passed by. what the fuck was she planning on doing to you?

without asking further questions, you grabbed the pencil sitting in front of you and went to work, trying to do what you do best; school work. for a few minutes, it went smoothly, you felt yourself getting calmer as you filled out the answers of the questions before you.

until you felt her fingers slowly slip your underwear down, her hot breath against your ear whilst she watched you work from behind, her friend group letting out ironic cheers. you heard her scoff as her middle finger came into contact with your.. embarrassingly wet cunt, rubbing it carefully.

“you’ve been wet this entire time, huh? didn’t know miss goody-two-shoes was so naughty.” you quietly whimpered at the touch, you were aching and you didn’t even want to fully acknowledge it. then, you heard some of her friends get up, getting closer to the both of you.

it was almost dehumanizing to admit that being treated this way turned you on this much, and the last thing you wanted at that moment was for her to know it.

she wasn’t as stupid as you thought she was, she figured it out fast.

she quickly stuck two of her fingers inside of you, watching you struggle as you tried to take her. “oh my god— don’t tell me that you’re a virgin?” she giggled, curling them and hitting your gspot as you bit your lip trying to suppress the lewd sounds that wanted to escape your mouth, “how does it feel to know that i’m the one taking your disgusting virginity, hm? shit, you’re fucking dripping for this, aren’t you?” was what she whispered in your ear, making sure no one heard it but you.

how considerate.

“mmh— y-yunjin—“ you attempted to turn your head over to look at her, but she quickly grabbed your jaw with her other hand and set it back to its original position.

“i told you not to move, didn’t i? focus on the fucking paper, whore. don’t make me hit you again, okay baby?” she snapped, being rougher with her fingers in the process. you let out a moan in response, because as much as you tried to deny it, everytime she spoke just made you clench even more around her.

so she sped up the pace with each sound that you let out, it didn’t take long for her to start properly fingering you and allowing her other hand to grope your clothed tits, watching you lose yourself under her inappropriate touch. you wanted more, you weren’t even writing on the damn paper anymore, you needed more of her. you needed to hear her friends call you a brainless whore more often.

you needed it.

your brain was so foggy and blurry that you didn’t even notice one of her friends end up in front of you, shamelessly shoving the camera on you, “come on y/n, look here.” she whined playfully, her turn to take ahold of your face and move it however she pleases, the girl made you look up at her and stuck her thumb into your mouth.

what was her name? chaeyoung? chaeryeong?? chaewon??? you couldn’t quite remember.

god, you didn’t even fucking know her name and you just let her slur you out like this?

“tell me y/n, is miss yunjin making you feel good?”

more, you wanted more. whatever the hell this was, you wanted more, you craved more.

you nodded, eyes hooded and rolled back as you felt the ginger’s long fingers reach deep inside of you, curling at the perfect places, at the perfect time. it felt so good, too good. you slightly drooled on the bob-haired girl’s thumb as your body shook under the both of them.

feeling yunjin’s mouth against your neck while she kept fingerfucking you, you blabbered, indecent things sounding like “k-keep going— i’ll never be an annoying bitch again i promise i— pleaseplease m-more—“ escaping your mouth.

everyone in the classroom was amused by this, you could tell by the things they said and the laughs they let out occasionally.

yunjin was especially enjoying it, because who would’ve thought l/n y/n would whore herself out for a group of girls she didn’t even know? not her, that’s for sure, but she lived for it, she waited so long for something like this to happen, and it finally did.

for you to be put back in your place, for you to be humbled, for you to be a begging and crying mess all over her. that’s what she hoped for whenever you opened your mouth in class.

“c-cumming— i’m— c-cumming i—“ you moaned against the sloppy kiss you were having with the other girl.

suddenly, a huge wave of euphoria washed over your entire body, causing your legs and arms to shake, giving out. you weren’t paying any attention to the volume of your voice, but when you felt lips come into contact with yours, you figured that you were being a little too loud.

you wanted more, you needed more.

too bad they simply all left you there, alone, only words spoken by yunjin beforehand being “don’t forget to lock the door afterwards.” after being thrown the keys to the classroom.

#kpop gg #female reader #le sserafim smut #le sserafim #le sserafim x reader #yunjin le sserafim #huh yunjin smut #yunjin x female reader #huh yunjin #anon asks #kinda??#le sserafim yunjin #le sserafim yunjin smut #gg smut #kpop gg smut #smut le sserafim

676 notes · View notes

lure-of-writing · 16 days

Text

Little Sister; Just Peachy

Summary: After sparring with Cassian you feel just peachy

Note: ya'll Im not going to lie the scene with Rhys in the living room got me in my feels 😭. But don't worry your little hearts we will absolutely will be seeing this from Ariel's point of view. As always I cannot wait to hear what you guys think!

(please read all in a days work , knock before you enter, and his little sister first!)

Word count: 2.9k

Warning: Mentions of having tiny frames but only in reference to being a child

Ever since your visit from the summer court something with both your brother and Azriel has been off. Rhys for the first time in your life has been avoiding you and suddenly you could never seem to catch Azriel at the right time. It was starting to annoy you to no end. “Well good morning to you too, sunshine.” Cassian looked over to where Nesta was stretching with the rest of the girls as if to ask her about your negative attitude. In return she just shrugged and welcomed you into the circle of stretches with everyone else. Today was all about fighting and since Cassian's counterpart was nowhere to be found it was up to you to help Cassian demonstrate the fighting techniques that had been practiced for a few weeks now. You were known to be a person who refrained from fighting and going into battle but that doesn’t mean that you weren’t capable of doing so. You were only one hundred years younger than your brother, it was safe to say that you had some experience with fighting.

The roof of the house of wind was quiet except for the occasional gust of wind along with Cassian's booming voice explaining how this match would go and the things then needed to pay attention to before each of them went toe to toe with either you or Cass. Finally after he was done giving instructions he turned and faced you. “You know I’m not going to go easy on you right.” scoffing your head tilts to the side “Yeah that's because your mate is over there giving you bedroom eyes and you want to impress her.” Once again his boisterous laugh filled the space of the open room giving it more warmth. Nothing more was said as you both got into fighting stances and prepared to walk away with some bruises.

The fight hadn't been going on for more than five minutes when you swore that you saw Azriel landing on the roof and watched as you and Cassian went back and forth throwing and dodging punches. Now you couldn’t say for sure because as soon as you took your eyes off your opponent to spare a glance where you thought Azriel was standing, Cassian's fist made contact with your cheek and subsequently you were laying on the matt looking into the sky completely dazed.

Cassian never meant to actually punch you. He knew exactly how you fight, he knows your tells and the next move that you would usually make but he didn’t know that you were going to turn your face at just the right moment and his powerful punch would connect with your face. Both you and Cassian knew the strength that he possessed and usually he would never fight you using that unlimited well of strength but the purpose of the match was to demonstrate how to use each part of your body to increase your strength when sparring.

Nesta was sitting on the ground right next to you with your head in her lap holding a cold hand on your sure to swell cheek and busted lip. From your point of view she was upside down. Even like this you thought she looked stunning. Gently she stroked your hair when telling you that you were going to be ok. Deep down you knew that you would in fact be ok but right now your head was ringing and your face hurt and you were pretty sure a tear was running down your face from the pain. Off to the side of you Cassain was shitting his pants. Not only had he hit the person who he views as a little sister, he hit you with his full force. He was grateful he did break any of your bones. But that wasn’t his only problem; he hit Rhysands little sister. Cassian was sure that he just signed his death certificate.

Rhysand was in his office with Azirel getting the report from his latest mission when he heard Cassian in his head. “Rhys?” The tone was a question as well as a grimace “Yes?” Rhys raised a finger to stop Azriel from continuing on. “Can you come up to the house of wind?” Sighing he looked at Azriel before rolling his eyes. “Can it wait? I'm currently in the middle of getting a report from Az.” a beat of silence passed in Rhys mind before the quiet voice of his brother came back in “It’s y/n”

Cassian could hear the beating of two sets of wings before he could see them. It didn't take a genius to know that they were flying at max speed. Cassian took a big breath and held it for a few seconds before blowing it out between thinly pressed lips. This would probably be the last time that he could breath normally for a while. Just as the two males touched down he glanced over to where his mate was still cradling your head and periodically removing her hand to look at the bruising and your split lip to see how bad it was getting.

Rhysand hadn’t even landed when his eyes locked on your body laying flat on the mat with Nesta holding your head. As soon as his feet touched the hard surface of the roof he was pouncing on Cassian with questions. “What the hell happened to her? Why is she laying on the mat with Nesta holding her face?” Cassian said nothing as he folded his high lord to where his sister lay. He knew as soon as Rhys saw your face he would be done for. Rhysand wouldn’t need any answers to his questions, he would know exactly what happened and who did it. Azriel fell in place with Cassian behind Rhys as they made their way to where you were lying and he glanced at his brother for a second with an eyebrow raised as if to ask what happened. Cassian just grimaced and shook his head. Azriel would also know what happened as soon as Nesta removed her hand from your face.

Cassian stayed back a few steps as Rhys bent down to get a closer look at you. Azriel was on the other side. “Nesta move your hand.” She didn’t do so, “Before I do you need to know that it was an accident and–” The tone of Rhysands words that came next left no room for discussion. “I said remove your hand.” The power in the high lord's voice raged over her like the waves of an ocean before a hurricane. She hated how the power made her bend to his will. Quietly she removed her hand as both males took in your face. The bruising has officially started to begin. All of your right cheek was painted with colors of red, purple and spots of dark red where the blood vessels broke. The bruising also danced along your cheekbone and around your eye, presumably from the impact, and down towards your jaw. Right where the bruising meets your lip is where it was split open and now had dried blood crusting along the open cut and down your chin.

After taking in your appearance Rhysand stood to his full high he turned around to look at the other male. “Cassian” his voice was cool and emotionless, the voice of a high lord. “Did you do this to my sister?” As much as it sounded like a question both males knew it was not. It was more like an interrogation.

As Nesta watched from afar as her mate and her brother-in-law were preparing to have at it she prodded in her sister's mind. “Feyre you need to come to the house of wind.” She paused for a moment as she listened to Cassian try to explain himself and what happened. “Now.” she added. Her attention was pulled from the fight that was sure to happen in a few moments with the jostling of your body beneath her hand. Looking down again she sees Azriel gently pull your body into his being as careful as possible as not to cause you any more pain. Nesta was sure that you were too out of it to feel more pain, as you didn’t even respond when she called out your name and your eyes were too unfocused and dazed to notice anything happening around you, still she thought the gesture was sweet.

“Where are you taking her?” Even though she wanted to go wherever Az was taking you she knew that she needed to be here when Rhys was done with her mate. To nurse him back to health. Or bring him back from the dead, whichever happened first. “She needs to be seen by Madja.” She nods her head in agreement as glances back over to her mate. She was sure the blood bath would start at any second. “I agree.” Finally after getting you into a position in Azirels arms that he deemed safe enough he shot off into the air and towards Madja’s clinic just as her sister flew in. Frantically Feyre looks at where her mate and her brother-in-law stood a few feet away brawling. “What the hell happened?” Nesta glanced down at her younger sister before returning her gaze to the fight. “Cassian accidentally punched y/n in the face and knocked her out.” Feyre felt her jaw drop all while turning to look at her older sister who just shrugged her shoulders in nonchalance.

When you woke up the first thing you noticed was the pounding headache ravaging your mind, the next thing you noticed was the excruciating pain in your face and jaw. Whatever happened to you must have been pretty bad for you to be feeling this way. Especially with fae healing. After cataloging the different types of pain and discomfort you were feeling you took in your surroundings. Plush big bed, the soothing smell of your brother's cologne, and paintings of Nyx, Feyre and your brother decorated the walls. You were in your brother's room. You must have been hurt pretty bad for you to wake up in a room that wasn’t your own. Closing your eyes again in hopes of soothing the pain inside your head you take a few deep breaths while you were at it.

Reluctantly you pushed the warm blankets off your body and made your way into the bathroom. The soft glow of faelights illuminated the bathroom and casted it into warmth. The setting sun on the horizon told you that you apparently had been out for most of the day, if not a day or two. Turning to look in the mirror you gasp at the sight in front of you. “Oh” a beat of silence “I look like shit.” gently you press a finger into the dark purple, blue and black bruise covering most of the right side of your face. You cringe back at the pain your prodding had induced. It took you a few seconds of staring at your own reflection to remember what had caused this but eventually you remembered.

You were sparring with Cassian in hand to hand combat and while the two of you were circling each other you could have swore you saw Azriel in the corner of your eye. Going to confirm it you turned your head to the right as Cassian's arm made a big and powerful swing and made contact with your face. After that you can’t remember anything. Giving it another once over you shrugged “At least he didn’t break my face.” you muttered to yourself before making your way out of the room and down to the kitchen or living room. You knew that you would only make it to one or the other before somebody was destined to stop you.

You got as far as the living room. Rhysand sat in a chair as he watched his wife and son play on the floor. The soft padding of your feet on the marble floors pulled him from his silent brooding. You watched from the entrance of the room and your brother practically shot up from his seat and in three quick strides stood in front of you. “ You're awake!” Even though you knew he meant it as a statement it felt more like a question. “Yeah?” You watched as your brother sighed in relief before gently pulling you into his arms. One arm around your back and the other stroking your hair. He made sure the unbruised part of your face rested on his chest. Returning the hug you arm your arms around the waist of your brother wrapping each hand around your forearms and your rest your complete weight against him. For a few seconds nothing was said as he gently rocked you back in front in the same spot.

Silently he pulls back to examine your face. You watch as his eyes take in the much darker welt on your face and the slowly closing fractured lip. He releases another sigh before once again pulling you back into him. “How are you feeling?” his tone in gentle and soft, knowing just how much your head probably hurts. Rhys had also been on the receiving end of Cassian's powerful strike, more times then he would like to admit. “My head feels like it's been cracked in two and my face feels like it might of been shattered but other than that I feel just peachy.” you felt the rumbling of your brother's chest before you heard the soft laughter. “I’m glad to see Cassian didn’t cause any brain damage.” Now it was your turn to laugh.

A peaceful quiet settled over the two of you and for a second you enjoyed it. Closing your eyes you listened to the steady heartbeat of your brother's heart, and for a second it reminded you of when you were a child. Any time you were scared or just in need of your brother's love you would seek him out and cling to him like your life depended on it. And without questioning he would simply wrap his arms around your tiny frame while you rested your head against his chest listening to the soothing sounds of his heartbeat until you fell asleep.

Those memories are some of the ones you hold closest to your heart and the current situation reminded you of when you were a child. Gently you knocked on the barely there shield of Rhys mind, he welcomes you in with open arms and there you show him all those precious memories this moment reminded you of. Some things are for certain and one of those things is sometimes you just need the love and comfort of your brother. Gently he squeezes your body closer into his own while still rocking you back and forth before placing part of his cheek and chin on top of your head. “Should we get you something to eat?” he all but whispers into the space above your head. Nodding your face against your chest the two of you pull away from each other after a few seconds. Rhysand keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he leads you into the kitchen. He may not be a great cook and usually avoids the kitchen like it had the plague but for his little sister he would do anything. Even if that meant potentially burning his house down.

It was a few days of living with your brother at his house before he thought you were ok enough to return back to the house of wind. That was only after Madja had even the ok that you would be good enough to survive the flight up there. You rolled your eyes behind his back as he talked with Madja. It was less than a five minute flight from his house to the top of the house of wind. If all else failed and you felt bad during the flight you would squeeze your eyes shut and pray you don’t throw up.

When you finally returned to your house you were surprised to see it empty. “Where is everyone?” you asked as your brother trailed behind you while entering the living room. “Nesta is with Feyre and Nyx shopping and Cass and Az are currently on a mission.” settling into the couch you glance over your shoulder at your very sweet but protective brother “Back to calling him Cass? That must mean you no longer feel like murdering him.” you watch as your brother makes himself comfortable on the couch across from you. “I’m still not happy with him but that doesn’t mean I hate him either.”

The room fills with silence yet again. “Why were you even sparring with him in the first place?” Furrowing your brows you look at him confused. “Uh because Azriel wasn’t there to do it? It was supposed to be the two of them but I guess something came up and no one else there has enough years of experience with the technique the Valkyries were learning so I stepped in to help.” It was now your brother's turn to furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “I didn’t give him anything to do so I don’t know why he wasn’t there.” Shrugging you look around before answering. “I mean he is a spymaster. I’m sure he has things that we don't get the privilege to know.”

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