classroom slide

promise | jungkook

Originally posted by jeonggukk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 3.3k

genre: angst, fluff, smut, college!au

warning: the usual swearing cause i’m practically a sailor tbh

description: your relationship started with fulfilled promises and ended with a string of broken ones.


Stretching your arms above your head and arching your back, you yawned loudly and turned to the side to see an empty, ruffled spot of duvet and a scruffy, scribbled note. You let out a harsh breath upwards and let the long stray of hair, that had fallen, blow up into the air in frustration. This time he had promised he would stay the night and yet here you were, lying in bed by yourself with nothing but the smell of sex in the air, slightly steamed up windows and memories that made your stomach fill with excitement and a hint of regret.

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Study Partner (Taeyong x Reader)

How goes my fellow nut busters? I’m jumping right onto the request train by giving you some fluffy and a little smutty study partner Taeyong! While our resident being of perfection may have enough sex appeal to shut down a male stripper convention, I think Taeyong/s sweeter side needs a bit more loving too. So I hope y’all enjoy this one because it was really fun to write!!

p.s. Taeyong can bust my nut anytime. anywhere. he can have me over easy, scrambled, or sunny side up tbh

Originally posted by teeuai

Staring out the window of your classroom like some angsty anime character was one of your favorite pastimes. You wished every waking hour you were in this hell hole of a school to be outside, riding your bike through the streets, picking flowers in the park, playing in the stream that ran through town, anything but this class.

It’s not like you were bad at writing and literature, in fact, you were exceptional, the brightest in your class. But you hated the teacher, hated what he made you write. You didn’t want to write about the characters in a Greek tragedy, you didn’t want to analyze Jane Austin, you wanted to write soaring stories about adventurers, magic, and romance. This class made you despise writing, and you loathed that, because writing was one of your secret passions.

You loved nothing more than sitting by that stream, feet soaking in the cold spring water as the plum blossoms overhead showered you with their petals. You would have your notebook in hand, writing story after story, poem after poem, they just sprang off your pen onto paper like you were born to write.

Many argue that you were a born writer, including your prick of a teacher.

“_______!,” you heard that deep voice snap you name for the fifth time that period.

You languidly turned your head away from the window, one eye brow quirked, “Yes, sir?”

He angrily furrowed his brow and squeezed the open book in his hands, obviously frustrated as he asked you, “What metrical pattern did Shakespeare use in many of his plays?”

You sighed, looking down where your fingers were playing with your pink mechanical pencil as you droned, “He used unrhymed iambic pentameter, called blank verse. He diverts from this several times in many of his plays and also uses other simple forms of poetry and prose.”

You felt the wide eyes of your classmates as they looked at you slack jawed, your chin titling toward the window to resume your usual position. Your teacher stopped you again, “And which of his plays are we reading? Or have you not been paying attention for the past forty-”

“Othello,” you interrupted, looking your teacher dead in the eye. “We’re reading Othello, believed to be written by Shakespeare in 1603.”

“Good,” your teacher replied, “Why don’t you stand up and continue reading for us then, Miss _______? Since you seem to know so much about it.”

You shot him a glare because he knew you didn’t have the book on you. You had read Othello countless times by yourself, so you didn’t ever bother bringing it to class. You were about to spit out at him like a viper when you felt a nudge on your arm from beside you.

“Here,” you turned to find the intense dark eyes of one of your classmates, Lee Taeyong, trained on you intently. He held out his copy to you, finger pointing out the line where the class had left off.

You raised your eyebrows at him, lips parting as you went to convey your thanks, but felt it catch in your throat. You grabbed the book from him instead, cheeks pink as you stood up and began to read. You couldn’t even comprehend the words that were coming out of your mouth, but you felt Taeyong’s soft gaze on you the whole time.

You were saved by the lunch bell, signaling that you were free from that wretched class and embarrassing situation. You carefully closed Taeyong’s copy of Othello and handed it back to him as you mumbled, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he took his book, giving you a small smile. “You staying in here for lunch?”

You were busy packing up your things, turning to him, “What?” You didn’t expect him to keep talking to you, so you were surprised when he asked again.

“Are you eating in here?,” he repeated, smiling to himself when he saw you blush and turn away.

“No, I always eat outside,” you said, feeling guilty because you thought you were being too rude. “I eat at the picnic benches, if you want to join.”

“Would you mind?,” he asked, putting his things into his bag and standing up, looking hopeful.

“No,” you mumbled, already weaving through the desks and out the classroom sliding doors, trying your best to calm the heat in your cheeks.

Taeyong didn’t say much, thankfully, as the two of you walked side by side through the hall. You saw numerous people whisper to one another, and some girls give you nasty looks. It wasn’t a secret that Taeyong was literally the most wanted boy in the entire school, he was absolute perfection, practically a prince. You’d never really paid much attention to the gorgeous student, but you shared every single class with him, and knew that he was ranked second in the school academically.

Second behind you.

You held first place by some miracle, even when you did nothing at all. You were just good at testing, that’s about it. To be honest, you thought Taeyong deserved it far more than you, seeing as he worked a lot harder for his scores and grades. He never seemed mad about being second though, he was a little quiet and acted content all the time, so you could never tell what he was really thinking. You couldn’t help but be a little curious as to why he wanted to hang out with you, he never really showed much interest before. You never even had a real conversation with him, the most you got was when he would congratulate you once again for staying in first place.

You reached the busy picnic benches that sat underneath the blooming plum blossoms, a picturesque scene that made your fingers itch to pull out your notebook. You usually did a lot of your writing at lunch, but since Taeyong was there, you didn’t want him to see. It was lowkey embarrassing and your writing was pretty much a gateway to your heart and soul, something you didn’t share easily.

You sat down at an empty table, fixing your uniform skirt and crossing your legs as Taeyong sat across from you. The two of you pulled out your lunches and ate in a strange but not uncomfortable silence. You were curious though, sneaking glances at him occasionally while he ate, completely unaware that he caught you staring every single time much to his amusement.

You cleared your throat, swallowing a spoonful of yogurt, “Thanks again for what you did in class, Taeyong, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, I know how hard he is on you,” he chuckled looking at you with cutely scrunched eyes, “But I think he does it with the best intentions in his heart. You’re really his favorite student, you know.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and eating another spoonful angrily, “That man wants nothing more than to see me fail,  it’s like it’s his one mission in life.”

“I think it’s cool how you just know everything though,” the dark haired boy said, his eyes widening in admiration. “It just comes so easily to you, I don’t know how you do it.”

“Honestly,” you admitted, picking at the table, “I really enjoy literature and writing, but hate being taught it.”

Taeyong laughed, “Everyone can tell, you’re always writing in that little green notebook of yours at lunch,” he nodded to where said notebook poked out of your open bag.

Your eyes widened and your face turned pink, “I-I just do it for fun, it’s not like I’m studying or anything.”

“I know,” he smiled, resting his head in his hand as he looked at you. “I think it’s really cute though because you’re always acting so tough.”

If you weren’t fire engine red at that point, you would have been proud of yourself, but you could feel the heat in your face and neck. You couldn’t even manage a reply, melting under his unabashedly adoring gaze, his smile too sweet for words.

His mouth quirked to the side in a smirk, “Is your yogurt too spicy for you?”

You gaped at him, mouth morphing into a smile of disbelief as you leaned over the table and smacked his shoulder, “You…!”

The two of you laughed suddenly, something changing after that. You felt a lot calmer around him, happiness creeping into your bones as you finally found enjoyment at school for the first time. You two talked about whatever came to mind, and it felt so natural and real, you’d have never thought Taeyong was as down to earth and sweet as this. One moment you were talking like friends and then next you were flirting like your lives depended on it.

It was intoxicating and beautiful.

“I have a question,” he said, absentmindley playing with your fingers, tracing the dainty ring your mother had given you on your birthday.

“Hm,” you hummed, watching the way he concentrated on the lines of your palm and shivering at the feeling of his touch. It made you squeeze your thighs together under the table and you never wanted him to stop. Taeyong stretched out his legs and tangled them with yours, brushing his knee against your inner thigh. You let out a small gasp at the touch, but Taeyong didn’t seem to notice, preoccupied with his words.

“Would you mind being my study partner?,” he asked, looking up at you with hopeful eyes. “It’s just…you’re so good at everything and it may not look like it, but I’m kinda struggling to stay afloat-”

“Taeyong,” you stopped him with a smile, feeling brave enough to brush the hair from his eyes. “Of course I can. I need to get my act together too anyway. We can help each other.”

“Really?,” he breathed, looking relieved as his shoulders sagged. “God, I could kiss you right now, to be perfectly honest.” He looked breathless and he seemed to look at you differently for a second, eyes flashing something deeper.

You were shocked but tried to save the situation quickly, “Shut up,” you laughed, taking your hand from him and standing up as the bell signaling lunch range. “I need someone to get my ass into gear anyway.”

Taeyong hummed, wiggling his eyebrows jokingly and giving you a smirk, “I like the sound of that.”

You made a noise of disgust and walked with him back to class, “We can go to my place later if you like, I have snacks.”

“Snacks sound perfect,” he said, bravely taking your hand and making you gape at him again. He carefreely swung your joined hands, like it was the most natural thing to do.

“Taeyong,” you gulped, feeling the stares and glares as you walked back inside. “What are you doing?”

“Can I not platonically hold your hand?,” he asked innocently, eyes wide and soft, but the quick smirk on his mouth said otherwise.

You groaned and let him hold your hand with his sweater paws, leading you like that from class to class for the rest of the day until the final bell sounded the end of school. Your stomach churned with excitement. To be perfectly honest, you were both happy and confused with how Taeyong was acting. One moment he was acting like the best friend you’d never had and the next he was acting like your boyfriend. You wouldn’t mind either of those things, but both? That would be like a dream come true. You weren’t going to lie, as a writer you were a hopeless romantic, and you always imagined how everything would be when you fell in love. You couldn’t even count how many tales of romance you’d written, how many poems to your future boyfriend you’d scribbled in your journal. As of now, everything was living up to your expectations, though, not necessarily with the person who you thought it would be. It was a pleasant surprise though that you welcomed with open arms.

You’d always thought Taeyong was absolutely gorgeous, but you didn’t know what his personality was like. You only knew he was sweet and hardworking. You wouldn’t have believed he was a complete flirt if you hadn’t experienced it firsthand yourself. The strange thing was, Taeyong never dated anyone, never flirted with anyone before he began to with you.

It also didn’t hurt that you could practically taste the sexual frustration radiating off of him.

You looked over to where the dark haired boy was packing up his things, hypnotized by the way he neatly and methodically tidied everything up. You walked over to him and poked his rib cage, watching in amusement as he jumped and shot you a cute angry look.

He pouted, “Hey, don’t! I’m really ticklish.”

“Oops, many finger slipped,” you grinned, to which he smiled to himself as he finished packing.

“You ready to go?,” he asked, sliding on his backpack. “I rode my bike here, we can ride it to your place.” He was practically bouncing on his toes as he took your hand and led you out of the classroom.

“Okay,” you smiled, letting him pull you away and thinking about how cute he was for riding a bike to school. How much more perfect could he possibly get? You literally saw no flaws in him.

You walked out to the bike rack and Taeyong unchained his sturdy black bike. He swung his leg over it and patted the handlebars and winked, “Here, I’ll be really careful, don’t worry.”

You gulped, a little freaked out by the prospect of balancing your ass on a thin piece of metal. But you trusted Taeyong and he seemed capable of maintaining his balance. You grabbed his hand and he helped you sit as comfortably as you could on the cold metal that pressed against the back of your thighs. Much to your surprise, Taeyong helped you fix your skirt, lifting you gently to tuck it carefully underneath your legs without a word. You blushed and grabbed onto the rubber grips of the handles, jumping when Taeyong slid his hands over yours and pushed off.

He wobbled at first, unaccustomed to the added weight, but he quickly recovered and peddled strongly down the road, cruising past the houses. You pointed out to him which way to go and he smoothly made the turns, the spring wind whistling through your hair as the afternoon chill began to set in.

Thankfully, you arrived at your house, the sun still fighting in the sky as Taeyong pulled up along the curb. The steps to your house were a perfect place for you to dismount, only stumbling a little bit as you clumsily slid off the handlebars. The two of you giggled at your less than graceful landing and Taeyong simply let his bike flop down as you walked up to your door. Goosebumps raised up your legs as you shivered in place and fumbled for your keys in your school bag.

“You’d think winter would end already,” Taeyong casually commented, daring enough to run his hand up and down your exposed thigh, dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

You shot him a look, but he just smiled boyishly. You finally found your key and shoved it in the lock as quickly as you could, wanting nothing more than the heat of your house to swallow you whole. It was like a wave of summer when you walked in, the dry heat feeling orgasmic on your bare legs as you took off your shoes.

Taeyong did the same, looking around your house curiously, “It’s really cute.”

“Thanks,” you said in amusement, “Come on, we can study in my room.”

“What about snacks?,” Taeyong asked, looking hopeful and hungry.

“I’ll bring some up, don’t worry,” you laughed, already trudging into the kitchen to grab some chips and grapes you had in the fridge. You heard Taeyong climbing the stairs and shouted, “It’s the second door on the right!”

You heard a grunt of affirmation and bounded up the stairs with your backpack and snacks in hand. You entered your room to already find Taeyong sprawled comfortably on your bed, pulling out notes and textbooks.

“Comfy?,” you asked, moving aside pillows and plopping down beside him.

He chuckled, scanning his notebooks, “Perfectly. What do you want to look over first? I was thinking writing and literature.”

You huffed, popping a grape in your mouth, “If we have to, I want to get through the worst first.”

“It’s not as bad as you think,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder as you sat up and leaned your head on it.

“I know,” you strained, pulling out your very minimal notes. “But it’s just something I don’t like being taught. I want to learn it on my own, through my own enjoyment.”

“Enjoyment, hm?,” the dark haired boy pondered, glancing at your notes before looking up at you exasperated. “_______, aren’t you worried you’ll fall behind?”

You’d never had the feeling you were ever drowning in work or behind the curve, always being right on track regardless of how hard you tried. You shrugged, looking at him with raised eyebrows, “Not really.”

“Well, I’m worried for you,” Taeyong said with a sigh. “You’re too smart and gifted to fall behind, and I don’t want to see that.”

“Taeyong? I’ve always wondered this but,” you murmured, tracing a finger on a vein up his forearm absentmindedly. “Don’t you want to be ranked first?”

Taeyong turned towards you, his dark eyes hard as he echoed you, “Not really.”

Confused you inquired, “But you’re always working so hard-”

“And it’s because of you,” the handsome boy interrupted, locking eyes with you. “You make me work harder than anyone else, you make me try, and no one else gives me that.” You didn’t notice it, but Taeyong had leaned closer, his breath fanning over your face. His voice was quiet, a soft murmur, “If I didn’t have you always one step in front of me, I don’t know what I would do.”

“Taeyong,” you whispered, his lips hovering just above yours, making your heart beat a mile a minute in your chest. He looked so soft, so exposed and vulnerable like he’d been craving to get that off his chest, to tell you.

“I don’t want to be ranked first,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours for a fraction of a second.

“I just want you.”

It was like a wave of feelings and sensations came crashing down on you, one minute you were a hairsbreath away from Taeyong, and next he was washing all over you. His body was pressing yours into the bed, your hands were tangled in his hair, and his lips were making what felt like love to yours. He kissed you passionately, like all the pent up feelings in his heart had just released into his body, hands and mouth driven by another force.

He cupped your face softly, but his lips and the rest of his body said otherwise. His chest rubbed against your clothed breasts and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth. He took this opportunity to slide his tongue in, tasting the grapes you had eaten and groaning at the way your body moved against him. You spread your legs and welcomed the knee that slid your skirt up to your hips and pressed against your clothed heat. Taeyong’s kisses were so wet, the sounds coming from your mouth made you go delirious as the fire in your stomach was stoked.

Deprived of oxygen, he pulled away with a gasp, looking so fucking gorgeous with his messed up hair and swollen lips. You leaned up and pressed kisses to his sharp as a knife jawline, moaning when his hands began to unbutton his shirt. Your finger helped him along by untucking it from his belt, craving to see the creamy skin underneath.

You nearly cried when he slid it off his shoulders, fingers tracing down the warmth of his skin and running down his lean abs, “Taeyong…” You pressed kisses to his chest, tasting him with your tongue as you dragged your wet muscle along his defined collarbones.

He smirked at your reaction, his fingers now making quick work of your shirt, tossing it across the room as he exposed your chest, “Now we’re even.”

“Please, Tae, I need to feel something. Just touch me,” you whispered, breath coming in gasps as you sat up and placed his hands on your hips.

He slid them down and under your skirt, squeezing your ass over and over as he groaned, “Come over here.”

He pulled you close, laying one of your legs over his thigh as he tugged you until your clothed heat was pressed against the bulge in his pants. You gasped when he began to rub himself against you, head going blank of everything except for him and the way he was moving against you. He rolled his hips into you with a groan, hands on your ass as he helped you move in tandem with him until you found the rhythm yourself.

You tangled your fingers into his soft hair when he leaned down to litter the tops of your breasts with love bites, sucking dark purple bruises into your skin. You whimpered when he slowed down, your hips still eager against his as he kissed your neck, “Please…”

He hushed you, taking his time as he felt the wetness through your panties soak the crotch of his uniform slacks, “Take it easy, baby girl. Take a moment,” he dragged his bulge slowly up your clothed slit, “To just feel this, to feel me.”

You rolled your head back, drunk on the feeling off him teasing your clit with his clothed member, “Oh, fuck…”

Taeyong’s eyes were glazed over, small beads of sweat dripping down his jaw and neck. You leaned over and licked up the tantalizing drops, tasting the salt of his skin and humming as you pressed kiss after kiss to his neck. As much as you loved how Taeyong could have so much self control, you wanted release badly, for him to make you come all in your panties.

“Taeyong, please,” you whispered, panting as you looked at him pleadingly, biting your bottom lip in want.

Instantly his hips began to move faster, slowly working up to a newer, rougher speed that left your body on fire. His hands found their place back on your ass and he urged you to move along with him, his eyes burning with desire as you complied willingly. He rutted his hips into you, causing your breasts to bounce as he ground into you roughly. You cried out when he inched up only a little bit and found your clit, driving hard into the spot when he noticed your reaction. The roughness of his slacks felt like pure nirvana on your sensitive bundle of nerves and your voice broke as you called his name out.

Taeyong’s voice was deep and husky, urging you to release as he continued to dry hump you, “Come on baby girl, soak those panties for me. Show me how wet you can make them.”

He took hold of your hips and turned you onto your side, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder as he drove into you on his knees. The new angle at which he rubbed against you made you see stars, and you felt your release upon you. You gave one last strained moan, gasping as you threw your head back and came hard, flooding your underwear with your essence as Taeyong continued to thrust against you, chasing his own high. A few moments later, he came crashing down as well, hips stuttering as he came inside of his pants, his member straining over and over against the fabric, so much so that you could see it twitching. You watched with half lidded eyes as Taeyong groaned, his head lolling back and languidly rolling his hips against your heat. It was possibly the hottest thing you’d ever seen and you felt your core tighten one last time as you came again. You gasped and road out the mini release, reaching down and rubbing yourself through your panties as best you could to prolong the feeling. Taeyong groaned at the sight, leaning down to kiss you again, swapping saliva with you as your tongues danced in sync.

When the two of you had regained your breath, Taeyong flopped down beside you, scattering notes off the bed as he pulled you into his arms. You welcomed his embrace, burying yourself deep into chest as you inhaled his homey scent, like laundry detergent and something so Taeyong it hurt.

He cradled your head and murmured against your hair, “You’re so incredible, ______, you know that?”

You laughed breathily into his skin, kissing his collarbones as you whispered, “And do you know how amazing you are, Lee Taeyong?”

You looked up and was met with a soft smile that you leaned in and kissed gently, “I mean it,” you affirmed with another kiss to his cheek, “You don’t need me to motivate you because you’re already so good on your own.”

“Doesn’t mean I still don’t want you,” he mumbled, looking away with a blush on his cheeks. “I’m sorry if I came off like a douchebag, it’s just you’re so cool, ______, and I just wanted to impress you-”

You stopped him with a kiss, laughing against his mouth as you pulled away to see his confused gaze, “And here I was thinking I was the lame girl with the gorgeous popular boy chasing after her.”

“No,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes and dragging his lips against your neck. “You just get the nerdy guy who can’t talk to girls without coming off like a dork.”

You laughed and played with his hair, gazing at him adoringly, “You’re really a strange one, Lee Taeyong. I like that.”

“You can keep me around if you like,” the gorgeous boy smiled, “So long as you be my study partner…and my girlfriend.”

“I think I can agree to those terms,” you grinned pulling him down to kiss him way past sunset. Your notes and studying were completely forgotten as the sun sank below the horizon. The two of you had cleaned up as best as you could when you remembered your parents would be home from work. It was a comical scene, but one you would remember fondly as you and Taeyong worked to scrub the stain from the front of his pants. He even met your parents that night, introducing himself like he was born to be brought home to a family. Years later, you could still remember that whole day with amusement and love, knowing you were still happily with that sheepish boy who made you laugh until your cried.

Binary Star (IV)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jaebum / Mark

Rating: PG

Word Count: 3,749

Summary: In some cases, these close binary systems can exchange mass, which may bring their evolution to stages that single stars cannot attain.”

You and Jaebum have been dating forever when Mark Tuan shows up in your classroom. You’ve always been against change - a bit debilitating, being a writer - but for some reason this new kid has you thinking there might be an upside to chaos.

Originally posted by myjaebutt

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[request] [scenario] confession without words

(omg tbh this is like word vomit……. ;; i hope u like it anyway!! ps. bonus at the end : snapchats HAHAh)

Title: confession without words

Member: minghao

Genre: fluff 

Word Count: 1796

Minghao isn’t much of a writer. Actually, he isn’t at all. He’s a dancer. He thinks with his body instead of his brain, processes a song’s beat and melody before the lyrics. So what was he doing sitting at a desk, pencil in hand, chewing on the inside of his lip, instead of at dance practice?

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I Own You - Theo Raeken

Originally posted by werewhorewolf

not my gif homies, credits to owner

Word count: 1534

Pairing: Theo Raeken X Reader

Warnings: Theo Raeken being Theo Raeken I mean, come one

Part 2 , 3 , 4

To be a part of Scott McCall’s pack was truly the best thing that ever could have happened to you. Sure, there was an occasional psycho or monster running around the town of Beacon Hills, but you’d always manage to find some way to take care of it (and at the same time keep up with all your classes like a pro). You were surrounded by an amazing group of people who you all loved dearly. You had your role to play in this pack, but as one of the few humans in the pack Scott would always make sure you were safe, or that he was around to make sure you were. Ever since you nearly got taken by the dread doctors, he hadn’t let you out of his sight. He really was a good alpha. He knew when to fight, and when not to. He knew who to trust, and who not to trust. Theo Raeken, was one of those persons who he didn’t trust. At least not anymore. Now that we know what he’s really up to, and of course, after he killed Scott.


Stiles was pretty clear about how he felt about Theo from the beginning, ever since he first showed up Stiles had a lot of distrust in the boy. He was always going on about how evil Theo was and how we should come up with a plan to kill him already. You agreed, Theo was the definition of bad news. But you couldn’t help think of him as a nightmare dressed like a daydream. Because that’s what he was. A nightmare. But a darn good one. And he knew how you thought of him. He could sense it whenever you were near. He could hear your heartbeat spiking and he could basically smell the desire coming off you. You wanted him, and he knew it.


You were changing your books at your locker when you noticed him approaching from the corner of your eye. You cursed to yourself, feeling your heart pounding in your chest (which you were certain he noticed). All he had to do was walk past you in the hallway, and you were basically at his mercy. How messed up is that? ‘(Y/N)?’ You turned to the young beta standing next to you. ‘Are you okay? Your heart is racing.’ He chuckled. You forced a smile onto your face. ‘I just remembered that I have a math test today, that’s all.’ You shrugged. Your breath got stuck in my throat as he finally walked past you. You didn’t know if he did it on purpose, but he walked so close to you that you could smell his cologne. Which had quickly become your new most favourite smell in the whole world. ‘Well, I’m assuming you didn’t study then?’ Liam asked as you closed your locker and you shook your head. ‘Haven’t exactly had the time with everything going on y’know…’ You shrugged and he nodded understandingly. ‘Anyhow, I gotta get to English. I’ll talk to you later, kay?’ You said your goodbyes and you hurried your way to English. You stumbled into the classroom, your bag sliding off your shoulder and your books nearly falling out of your arms. God you were a mess. ‘Miss (Y/L/N), you doing okay there?’ Your teacher asked causing a few chuckles to erupt from your fellow students. You lowered your head with a blush, pushed your bag back up your shoulder and walked towards your seat. Your eyes widened and your heartrate did the thing again when a new face was sitting in the seat right behind yours. ‘You’re not in this class.’ You blurted out, not really knowing why you were talking to him. Theo smiled, almost sympathetically you noticed, but that couldn’t be. ‘I am now. Turns out French wasn’t really my thing.’ He replied with a shrug, leaning back in his chair. ‘French isn’t anyone’s thing.’ You sighed as you lowered yourself in your own seat.


Since English was your favourite subject, you never had problems following along with everything your teacher was saying. But today, things were different. You were so aware of him sitting right behind you. And you knew he had that stupid smirk on his face. You had your notebook in front of you and a pen in your hand but you hadn’t made any kind of effort whatsoever to write anything down. You were too overpowered by him, his scent, his everything. You swear you could feel the heat radiating of his body. God his body.


‘(Y/N), you have to calm down. Every werewolf in town can hear your heart racing.’ His voice suddenly whispered behind you. You swallowed thickly, not responding to what he said. You wouldn’t let him have that kind of power over you. ‘It’s me, isn’t it?’


You closed your eyes, cursing yourself for being so goddamn obvious. Of course as a werewolf, well, chimaera, he had an advantage. But still. Your focused your attention and the Shakespeare quote that was written on the blackboard, trying to ignore the words he was whispering to you. ‘Don’t think that I don’t see you staring. Because I do. You try to stop yourself, because of Scott and the pack. But you can’t, I know you can’t. Dammit (Y/N) I can basically smell it on you!’


‘Please…’ You whispered. You weren’t exactly sure if you were pleading for him to stop, or to go on. ‘Please, what?’


‘Stop.’ You sighed. ‘Only if you want me to. Do you?’


He was toying with you by now, and you caught yourself liking it. You turned around in your seat. You had your words ready, telling him to leave you alone and simply stop talking, but they disappeared into thin air once you were face to face with him. He was leaning forward, his head resting on his hands. And you weren’t prepared for him to be this close. ‘Yes?’ He questioned, knowing you were about to say something. You searched your brain, but you found no words. Only unholy imagines, which you weren’t about to share with him. ‘Mr. Raeken, Miss (Y/L/N), having fun back there?’ Your teacher called and you spun around, a look of horror on your face. You’d never been called out by a teacher, you made sure you never were because you hated being in the centre of attention. You had no reply, no excuse.


‘(Y/N) was just telling me that she’s not feeling so good. Maybe I should take her to the nurse’s office?’ You heard Theo reply. You were about to say that wasn’t necessary, but his strong hand had already grabbed hold of your arm, pulling you out of your chair. You felt all eyes on you as Theo led you towards the door. You kept your head low

, trying to think of how to get away from him as soon as you were outside.
‘You know I just saved your ass, right?’ Theo chuckled once you were in the hallway. ‘My ass didn’t need saving.’ You grumbled, pulling your arm from his grip. ‘Why don’ you just admit it?’ Theo smirked as he walked closer to you, slowly catching you between his body and the wall. ‘Admit what?’ You asked nonchalantly. ‘That you want me.’


You sighed and turned your head away but he grabbed your chin in a strong grip forcing you to look at him. ‘Admit it.’ He whispered. His face was so close you could feel his warm breath on your face and it took everything bit of willpower you had to not pounce onto right there. ‘I’ll admit that you’re a fine piece of male specimen. But you’re still an asshole.’ You shrugged, trying to sound confident, but you feared that your voice might gave you away. ‘I like your spirit.’


‘There’s a whole lot of me to like, Theo. If only you hadn’t killed Scott.’ You sighed. He let out a chuckle and brought his head down to you neck, pressing his lips to the soft and delicate skin. Your eyes immediately fell shut, if you had one weakness it was your fucking neck, and it was as if he knew. ‘I’m starting to think that this is the other way around…that it’s you who wants me…’ You muttered, trying your very best to keep your voice steady. The bell rang and your eyes shot open in fear, you placed your hands on his shoulders to push him away but you, a tiny little hobbit, were no match for him. He continued to leave hot, wet, open mouthed kissed all over your neck, exploring whatever bit of exposed skin he could find. ‘Theo!’ You hissed, knowing at any moment the doors could open and the halls would fill with students. If anyone saw you with Theo, the word would spread and soon one of your friends would hear, and you’d be dead. ‘Let’s admit it, (Y/N).’ He whispered as he brought his lips to your ear. ‘I own you.’ And with that he walked away. You heard doors open and soon the halls were filled with people. But you didn’t notice any of them. Only one of them.


Cody Christian owns my ass. And I love it.

Whispers

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
Word count: 3920
Genre: Angst, high school AU (Warning: mentions of suicide)
A/n: I am sincerely sorry for any errors and sorry that it seems rushed but I hope you enjoy! :’D -Admin V

Originally posted by bwichim

Screaming, stabbing. It’s all you remember. In your mind, you see an orphanage that impacted you immensely and hear loud crying. To whom do the cries belong to?

“The tragic fate of one little girl.”

A whirl of wind blows around the familiar place and suddenly, you feel a cold sensation hit your exposed face.

Cute, childish squeals of laughter could be heard through the neighborhood as you walk hand in hand with your father. With each light step you take, you can hear the faintest crunch of snow sound out from under your feet. You swing your hand up and down with gaiety and hum a small tune your late mother used to sing to you. Pausing at the crosswalk, you turn your head to look at your father, an innocent expression full of naivety is etched on your face.

“Daddy,” you smile gleefully, “is school fun?” Standing on the tip of your toes, you wait for the stoplight to flash a red light. “Hm, I think that depends on the person.” He gives you a soft smile and, seeing a signal flash on, your father starts walking. “Come on now, let’s go, my little princess,” he says, gently tugging on your hand.

Halfway from crossing, you can hear the loud sound of a car of some sort approaching you and your father, the only people on the road. Before you could turn and look for the obnoxious source, you, who was skipping in front of your father, feel a harsh and firm push. Stumbling forward, you fall to the ground, grimacing at the painful impact. With a dull, aching pain in your wrists and already bruising and bleeding palms and knees, you gasp in pain and tears quickly trickle down your cheeks which were red from the cold winter air nipping at your bare skin. The dirty, gray bits of cold snow covering your wounds cling to your knees and hands as you struggle to get up. Hearing a deafeningly loud honk that sounded close by, more so than before, you whip your head around to see large amounts of a peculiar red color on the ground. From where you are, you see that a truck has passed through the safety of the crosswalk and screeched to a sudden stop. A faint metallic odor spreads through the winter air quickly and soon hits your small red nose. Seeing a familiar figure on the ground, bloody and mutilated, your eyes widen.

Everything blackens and a television appears out of nowhere, in the pitch black darkness. It switches on and the news starts playing.

“It had been reported that, at 12:00 noon, a young girl has committed suicide.”

A loud gasp resounds in your small room as you wake up on your warm and cozy bed, startled and drenched in sweat. Lately, you notice that you have been reliving your bad memories in your dreams.

Sighing, you check the time. 3:30 am, Friday. You still had quite a lot of time to rest, however, you felt restless and bothered. What was bothering you? The death of your father? How intentional it felt? Or was it the burning orphanage?

Thinking about the place, a frown appears on your face. You shift around countless times and finally stop when tears forming in your eyes start obscuring your sight. You try to swallow the small lump in your throat, however, it wouldn’t go down. Small, barely audible whimpers escape your dry, chapped lips and the wet droplets in your eyes start spilling over, cascading down your cheeks and onto the soft, white pillow you lay on. No matter what you did, the tears wouldn’t stop. Rubbing the salty tears away every time they poured over onto your cheek, you let out several sniffles. As several turned to multiple and multiple turned to countless, your cries erupt into a fit of sobs. It has been a while since you’ve had a good cry.

As your thoughts travel to your time in the orphanage, sorrow and pain paint over your frown. The wrist of your dominant hand burns with a stinging sensation as you curl yourself into a small ball. The memories of your childhood start replaying in your mind and you clutch your wrist gently, bringing it close to your chest. That, the orphanage, was what started everything, as far as you were concerned.

Running, screaming, crying. There was chaos in the orphanage. Bloody knives impaling children and caretakers, all the same. You, a child new to the orphanage, were following after one of the caretakers to safety when you were pushed back all of a sudden.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” The person yells over the screams of their coworkers. “This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t come! It’s because your dad, right? He’s probably dead because someone is out for revenge on your family!” With a strong grip, the person grabs your shoulders and stare into your eyes, convinced that you were the cause of the chaos. “If you’d just die, maybe we wouldn’t suffer and die too!” They had an intensely emotional look in their eyes - the eyes of fear and blame.

Tears glistened brightly in your scared eyes and you don’t utter a word. Shoved back a second time, you fall to the ground and your wrist comes in contact with small glass shards from a broken window. A strangled cry leaves your vocal cords and you hurry and get up, trying your hardest to ignore the pain. Despite being a child, you knew when the time to be quiet and run was.

Beep! Beep!

Your eyes fly open and you instantly grab onto your wrist while your eyes adjusted to the dim light that spread into your room from the window. You realize that you had fallen asleep and groggily reach over to your nightstand and grab your phone, turning the alarm off. Rubbing your slightly red and swollen eyes for the umpteenth time, you crawl out of bed and trudge to the bathroom, still frightened by your dream all the while thinking back to what the person said. Why would anyone feel the need to kill your dad? You didn’t understand. Your dad wasn’t in debt to anyone, didn’t have any enemies, and didn’t kill anyone, as far as you knew and were concerned. Wasn’t the attack on the orphanage just a cruel twist of fate? You can’t help but think of it as that. Not knowing the exact truth, you decide to stop thinking about the orphanage and push the unpleasant thoughts out of your mind and into the back of your mind. You move forward and enter the bathroom. Scratching the back of your head, you start doing your morning routine.

After you finish doing your routine, you skip breakfast and head out of your apartment in your high school’s winter uniform. A small smile is graced on your face as you open the door. Ready to greet Taehyung, you set foot outside and remember that he no longer walks to school with you. The smile vanishes from your face as quickly as it appeared and you close your apartment door with a great lack of enthusiasm.

You enter your classroom with an expression of displeasure and discontent mixed on your face. Walking over to your seat in a brisk manner, you sit down quietly. The moment you rest the elbow of your nondominant hand on your desk, cup your cheeks, and place your chin on your palm, the classroom door slides open, as if on cue. You don’t have to bother looking over your shoulder to know that it’s your best guy friend and the one and only holder of your unrequited love, Kim Taehyung. As he strolls inside and takes a seat at his desk (that was next to yours), you see him brush his soft brown locks back with his hand in the corner of your eye.

“Y/n, good morning,” he greets you as he peers over at you. “Hey,” you return. “Not drawing today?” “You could say it’s something like that.”

Taehyung nods his head in understanding and takes out his phone. He’s been on it an awful lot nowadays, texting someone. Someone special, probably, since he’s been oddly distant with you recently. It’s not like you were observing him countless times to know that, but you were. A quiet, brief sigh escapes from your lips and you shift in your seat, gazing out the window next to you. You disliked how short and awkward your conversations with Taehyung were nowadays. What exactly made him cease conversation with you? Secretly pursing your lips and chewing on the inside of your mouth, you think back to the way things used to be and how drawing was actually the source of your long time friendship with Taehyung.

It was lunch time on your first day of elementary school. You sat in your seat, alone and bored. Your classmates weren’t interested in becoming friends with you so, with nothing to do and no friends to talk to, you started to doodle on a piece of paper in front of you.

Drawing was your favorite hobby. In fact, you loved it so much, you were convinced that being an artist was what you wanted to be when you grew up. With a small, real smile on your face for the first time since your father’s death and the problem at the orphanage, you begin sketching out a decent piece, for a seven year old, quietly. You were at peace and found happiness in drawing your sadness and pain away, despite your wrist hurting a bit from the slowly healing injuries of the not-too-long ago past.

“Wow! You’re such a good artist!” you hear Taehyung exclaim. Ignoring the cheerful boy with a pleased smile on your youthful, childish face, you concentrate on your drawing, however, not even a second after praising your skills, you feel a puff of hot air on your ear. Your breathe slightly hitches in agitation and your eyes widen. Whipping your head around without a thought, your face almost collides with Taehyung’s face.

“Uh,” you breathe out. He locks his dark brown eyes on you curiously and steps back slowly as he realizes how close he is to you. You move your face further away from his at the same. “Sorry,” Taehyung says sincerely as he rubs the back of his head softly with his small hand, a small blush is evident on his cheeks. “I just wanted to watch you draw,” he confesses. “Because I can’t draw well like you, I like watching more you do it more.” He looks at you in the eye, in a shy manner. “I don’t think I introduced myself yet…” He says unhurriedly. Drawling out his words in a smooth, halting sentence, Taehyung cutely asks you to become his friend after politely introducing himself to you.

“Good morning, Tae! Y/n!” a bright voice chirps. “Morning,” you utter softly, slightly wanting your sister like friend to notice that something was wrong. Of course, like all other days, Rika didn’t notice. In fact, it felt as if she never noticed anything, despite all the signals you threw out. In all honesty, all you really wanted to do was tell her how you felt. You wanted to share with someone the story of your pain. The gut wrecking sadness you felt of not being noticed, not feeling any love from anyone. How neglected you felt when, on especially bad days, you would finally reveal your inner feelings on your expression and everyone would just walk past you and ask the person next to you if they were feeling okay. Were you some type of ghost? It frustrated you insanely. Were you truly all alone, to fight the battle of life all by yourself? You wanted to be notice, but you had a large feeling of reluctance to voice your depressing thoughts.

It was only Taehyung who noticed everything. Thoughts, moods, feelings. He understood you completely, with or without the small signals. He gave you all the attention and love you wanted, needed. Was that how you fell in love with him in the first place? Was it because of the beauty he possessed? The kind and playful attitude that radiated from each action and word? You couldn’t tell.

The day passed by with you barely speaking a word to any other people. It passed by uneventfully, however, you noticed how Rika and Taehyung seemed to converse more and more with each other while you drifted away slowly. Even if you had put in effort to join their conversations, it would die out quickly. It was odd, if you really thought about it. Why are they not talking to you as much? Did they find you annoying? Did they not want to be friends with you anymore? The unanswered questions left you feeling bothered and hurt. You sigh and trudge out of the classroom, feeling no more miserable than how you did waking up from the horrid dreams.

At home, you slump onto your bed as soon as you entered your room. Thinking about what to do, you start biting the inside of your mouth once again. Should you ask them what’s going on? You give up on finding an answer after a couple hours of you laying in bed, doing nothing, passes by. Pushing yet more thoughts into the dark depths of your mind, you close your eyes, thinking of Taehyung and Rika. They sure seemed closer to each other than usual…

The next time you woke up, it was already Saturday. As per usual, you do your morning routine. Finishing up, you think about how you have no homework and nothing to do, as always. Deciding to make real use of your weekend instead of just lazing around again, you turn on some music and sit at your desk. Contemplating on what to draw, you lay your head on your sketchbook. The previous song finishes playing and switches. Immediately, you hear a tune you listen to all the time. As the instrumental part slowly finishes, you hear Taehyung’s soft, deep voice sing a string of beautiful lyrics. It was a song he wrote himself and let only you hear. You smile at his inspirational and relatable song and pick up your pencil to draw. It seems that after being in a slump and depressive mood for a long while, motivation has finally made its way to you.

It’s 4:00 pm when you check the time again. Your hand had started aching in an overwhelmingly painful way so you decided to stop and take a break. Your drawing is almost complete. It just needs a couple of finishing touches. An hour later, after resting your hand, a soft smile graces your face as you look over your artwork again, lightly brush your fingers over it. Remembering that you had to go to work soon, you decide to take a hot, steamy shower before heading out.

Your job is at the amusement park, where many couples buzz about at this time of day. You silently wish that you weren’t working, and were with Taehyung, as one of the couples that wandered around. Your eyes dance around the small crowd, waiting for someone to come up to you to go on the ride. As you close your eyes for a while, a familiar voice captures your attention and makes you open them again.

“Tae, which ride should we go on~?” Your ears perk up. Rika? You frown and glance around to look for them from your assigned spot. As Taehyung and Rika came into view, you had to resist the urge to release a groan. What exactly was Rika doing, getting all up on Taehyung, with her arms hooked around his? What was she doing, breaking her promise to stay away from dating him? You couldn’t believe your eyes. All this time, you were holding onto that promise… just as the two of you swore to do… while she was flaunting around, breaking it? You were enraged, yet a cold feeling of your incredibly fragile heart breaking ceased that anger. Was this why they neglected you? You couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed from the betrayal you felt.

They stop by the ride you managed. “Y/n?” Rika’s eyes are practically bulging out of their sockets. “Rika,” you return emotionlessly.


You spent the rest of the day at work, in despair and envy, staring at Rika and Taehyung while gritting your teeth. After finishing work, you start walking home when you see Rika waiting for you.

You come to a stop, a couple feet away from her. “You broke the promise,” you start, with no emotion in your voice and dark nothingness showing in your dull eyes. “What did you expect? That promise was why back when, Y/n.” You were taken aback by her tone. “Did you only befriend me to get close with Tae?” She gives you a look as you move forward. “Rika, you’re joking, right? You’re like a sister to me!” you spew out in a choked up sentence. She had a disgusted look on her face. “I never thought of you that way. You were just a nuisance.” She flips her blonde hair back effortlessly and pushes you back harshly. As you use your hands to support yourself, your dominant hand lands on the ground the wrong way and you sprain your wrist. “Well, in any case, stay away from my boyfriend, alright?” she glares at you while you fight back tears forming from the intense pain in your hand and leaves the moment after.

As you walk home, you weakly glance at Taehyung’s house. He lived near you and used to visit you all the time… A hurt look flashes on your face and you look down at the ground in despair.

“Can you handle it?” You ignore the voice that echoed inside your head.

You open your apartment door and trudge inside after closing it. Lifting up your purple and blue bruised wrist, you flinch from the sudden pain that ran through your hand.

“You can’t endure it anymore, can you?” I can, you think to yourself.

Your phone beeps and you see that it’s Taehyung.

[9:32 pm] Taehyung: Y/n, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you about me and Rika.
[9:34 pm] Taehyung: I saw how hurt you looked… but I ignored it. I’m sorry…

You don’t respond to his texts and toss your phone on your bed instead. You crawl into your blankets and hide yourself as the reality of Rika’s words from earlier sink into your mind. The promise was years ago, could you have expected her to keep it even if she really were your friend?

“Y/n,” Rika whispers to you on a cool, autumn day. You look up from your sketchbook and at her with an eyebrow raised. “Yes?” Rika drops her voice a couple octaves lower than how they were moments ago and looks into your eyes with a serious expression.

“Do you like Taehyung?” The question completely caught you off guard and you couldn’t voice a denial or your true feelings. Instead, your cheeks burned a brilliant red blush and you stared at Rika, dumbfounded. She doesn’t say anything in response to your reaction. Coughing a few times after a long stretch of silence made everything awkward, you look down at your sketchbook. “Uhm, was there a specific reason as to why you want to know?” You shyly peer at Rika while waiting for a response.

“… I like him too…” she confesses and you don’t feel the least bit shocked. Since there were so many reasons to like or even love Taehyung, you found it completely understandable. As you were about to say something, Rika speaks up again. “I don’t want to ruin our relationship with each other, so can we make a promise?” Confused, you look at her weirdly. “A promise?” She nods her head.

“A promise that none of us dates Taehyung! Will you promise me this?”

Bzzt! Your phone goes off and you don’t check it. Your eyes droop from tiredness and depression and you lose yourself in your haunting dreams once again.

“Did you know that your father purposely crossed the street on that yellow light? You know, he only did that because he let me exist. Just as you are doing now.”

You awake, sweat dripping down your face. There is an intense pain surging in your wrist and you silently scream in pain. Doing your morning routine at an excruciatingly slow pace, you finally finish and skip school. Obviously, you needed to head to the hospital to get your injury checked.

Bzzt! You check the text you got from Taehyung the night before as well as the one you had just received.

[9:43 pm] Taehyung: I need to talk to you tomorrow.
[8:55 am] Taehyung: Y/n, you’re not coming today…?

You bite your lips and don’t respond since the doctor has called you in.

You exit the hospital in a terrible state. Your wrist was in a condition no better than your crumbling emotional state. You sluggishly make your way home and sit at your desk. As you see the sketch of Taehyung you drew the day before, you bring your hand up to your face and start sobbing. Due to the poor condition your wrist, you could no longer use it for any activities that could potentially damage your hand more. That even included small, miniscule activities such as drawing and writing. It broke you since drawing was all you could really rely on at this point. You had to last an entire month with no drawing. Could you really do it?

Hey, who are you anyway, you ask the voice that whispered things to you. It doesn’t answer your question but instead asks one. “Are you ready for me to take you away as I did your father?”

Ding dong!

You don’t answer the door. Even so, without you doing so or your permission, the door creaks open.

“Y/n…” Taehyung’s soft, gentle voice calls out your name.

[2:30 pm] Rika: Tae!! Where are you??

He scoffs at her message.

[1:47 pm] Taehyung: I was at Y/n’s house.
[1:47 pm] Rika: Why??

Feeling enraged, Taehyung doesn’t bother answering Rika’s question.

[1:50 pm] Taehyung: Rika, I realize now that being with you will never help me get over Y/n.
[1:51 pm] Taehyung: Even if she told you that she doesn’t like me as I like her… I’d rather have stayed by her side and watched her find happiness.

He turns off his phone and quietly closes your apartment door. Looking back at your door, he slowly makes his way home, stuffing a white note written by you to him inside his pocket.

A bouquet of beautiful white lilies are placed on your desk, by the drawing of Taehyung you never finished. A small note is tucked near the bouquet.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry I neglected you. If only I paid more attention. I’m so sorry everything ended up this way… I should’ve realized sooner… I truly hope you find happiness and I know it’s not my place to say this, but I love you and always have since childhood… ”

[1:55 pm] Rika: … Are you breaking up with me over a girl who committed suicide?

“Goodbye.”


A/n: To clear up any possible misunderstandings or confusion, the voice that Y/n heard in her mind is [Depression]. Sorry this is so rushed and not written very well..

Let’s Go Get Stoned - Smut

Originally posted by thinkingoutloudds

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Words: 3,891
Request: By Anon: could you do a stiles smut where you were with him when he was having a panic attack and after he calmed down you suggested he try smoking weed since it has helped you with your anxieties, and then you offer to smoke him up.

Warnings: THERE IS DRUG USE HERE, OBVIOUSLY. SO, DON’T DO DRUGS. AND IF YOU DO, BE SAFE ABOUT IT, YEAH?

AN: This shit got me fucked up, yo. I had so many ideas for it! A special thank you to @toppunks because we had this conversation last week about Dylan smoking, and she wrote this little blurb and I took an idea from it cause GOD DAMN, SON. Please forgive my shitty description of rolling a Dutch, it has been awhile. 

I made a Spotify playlist for this fic, find it here.
If you’d rather just a few songs have THIS, THIS AND THIS.


“Stiles, what’s wrong?”

You heard Lydia’s voice float over the din of students chattering in the hallway. Your eyes flew to Stiles, his body rigid as he stood in there, his phone gripped in his hand. You ran up next to him, your eyes wide.

“What’s going on?”

Lydia shrugged, gesturing to the boy, his chest heaving.

“He’s having a panic attack. Stiles! Look at me.” You gripped his arm, trying to get his attention.

Keep reading

George Weasley Imagine Kiss Away The Doubt

You held George’s hand as the two of you strolled down the corridors of Hogwarts. You’d been dating for about a month and you were ridiculously happy. Part of you wondered how it was possible for one person to bring so much joy to your life.

“I’ll see you at dinner, love.” George said, kissing your hand and walking away. A blush spread across your cheeks and you walked into the classroom, sliding into your seat silently. As the teacher set the work, one of your classmates leaned towards you.

“Were you just with George Weasley?” They asked, raising an eyebrow. You grinned at his name and nodded.

“Yeah, we’re together.” You admitted, taking pride in your relationship. Your classmate scoffed and your smile slowly turned to a frown.

“Is something wrong?” You questioned and your classmate snickered, drawing looks from a few other people. They leaned in, their eyes narrow and harsh. It made you uneasy.

“Have you kissed yet?” You turned bright red, sputtering at the question and tried to calm down. But they had their answer from your reaction.

“That’s a no then. That’s a surprise.” They shrugged, turning back to their work. Part of you reasoned that you shouldn’t ask what they meant, but your curiosity overruled your reason.

“What did you mean by that?” Your classmate smirked, letting out a quiet chuckle.

“I mean, don’t you think it’s a bit odd that by he’s kissed every girl he’s date, but the two of you still haven’t kissed. It’s not my business, but doesn’t that say something about your relationship?” You looked at your desk, suddenly feeling self-conscious. You’d never even thought about it before.

“(Y/N), I know something’s wrong.” George placed a hand on your arm and you sighed, annoyed how you couldn’t hide your emotions from him. You led him out of the Common Room and into the corridor, for more privacy.

“What’s troubling you?” George’s eyes were full of concern and your stomach twisted in guilt.

“It’s nothing, just…just something someone said about us today.” You shrugged it off, but George put his hands on your shoulders.

“What did they say? Who was it? Because Fred and I will get them back.” George threatened, his eyes full of anger. You placed a hand on his cheek, trying to soothe him.

“They said that, well, you’ve kissed all your other girlfriends by now, but you’ve not kissed me yet.” You mumbled, suddenly feeling embarrassed for doubting George.

“Maybe I’ve just been too nervous to kiss you and wanted to make sure it was perfect.” George whispered and you felt yourself growing red. Your eyes flicked to his lips and you realised how close you were. You leaned in and George met you halfway, kissing you gently.

“How was it?”

“Perfect.”

Requests are open

Masterlist

1st Hour: Bangtan High- Jungkook(Fluff)

These are the days we’ll remember the most. 

Req: a series of high school au for each member? can be smut or fluff!

A/N: Part One in the seven part high school drabble series. Enjoyy~


How is it already senior year?

How is it that in one week you will be having your graduation ceremony?

How is it that after five years of being best friends with Jungkook you still don’t have the balls to tell him how much you like him? From the moment you say him you knew the butterflies that had invaded were making home in your stomach.

Ever since the first day of seventh grade when he plopped down in the seat next to you and told you he liked the doodles on the side of your spiral. Ever since you realized he lived down the street from you.

All of the girls have liked him since you can remember, your reputation steadily falling from cute, quiet girl to annoying, selfish slut for ‘stealing’ Jungkook and keeping him to yourself. It was true Jungkook hadn’t dated anyone throughout high school but how was that your fault? It’s not like you both were dating each other.

No matter how many times you prayed for it.

You tap your foot against the wood floors, the sound echoing in the empty classroom. Jungkook had said he had a surprise for you before you graduated, and honestly the last time he gave you anything was when he first debuted. You finger the necklace charm in remembrance.

“A microphone.” He’d said. “Because I want you to remember that I wouldn’t be singing if it wasn’t for you. And that means something to me.”

A smile ghosts your lips, eyes following the falling blossoms out the window.

“Sorry I’m late.” Jungkook’s deep voice comes from behind you, the classroom door sliding closed.

It’s outstanding how much a person can change in the course of a few years. How they grow into their body, how their voice lowers, how their face sculpts and molds from boy to man and by the time you realize it’s too late.

“It’s fine. I’ve only been here a few minutes.” You turn, dropping the charm back under your school blouse. “What’s up?”

“Can you believe it’s the end of senior year?” He asks, a smile on his face you don’t recognize.

“I know right. It was a year to remember, huh?”

“It’s not over yet.” He looks at you, stepping closer. “But hopefully.”

Jungkook shifts on his feet, looking to the space between you two as he blinks rapidly. You watch as his cheeks redden slightly, feeling an awkwardness seep through the air that you’d never felt with him before.

“Is Jeon Jungkook nervous?” You tease him, reaching out to hit him playfully.

Before your hand can get to his shoulder Jungkook grabs it, holding on firmly and looking back up to you with an intense expression. You feel the air change and your stomach does flips at the way he’s looking at you.

“Do you remember that guy that liked you in ninth grade?” His voice is low with confession as you nod. “And one day he just stopped talking to you and you thought it was because you were wearing glasses and he thought you were ugly?”

You nod again, uncomfortable not only with the topic, but his tone. “What about it?”

“He didn’t find you ugly. I went to him after school and told him to stop hanging around you. I told him he looked like a creepy stalker and you weren’t looking for any sort of relationship.”

“Why would you do that?” You ask him, eyes narrowing as his grip on your hand tightens.

“Because I didn’t want to see you with him anymore. I didn’t want to see you with anyone but me. I still don’t.”

You give him a warm smile, trying not to find deeper meaning in his words. You’d gotten your hopes up too many times just to be let down. “Awe, Kookie. I’m always gonna be your best friend. Don’t worry.”

“No, Y/N.” He runs his thumb over your knuckle, stepping closer until the tips of his shoes touch yours. You’re frozen in place, watching his eyes, so rich and swimming with chocolate, drift from yours down to your lips. They part under his gaze and the intensity of how he’s looking at you makes the breath flee your lungs.

His skin is smooth, and even with the close proximity you can’t find one flaw in its surface. His hair covers his forehead, dark in contrast to the milk of his flesh. you wonder if the rest of him is this beautiful. If no matter how many layers you strip off he will always be flawless and godly to me.

Jungkook’s nose tickles yours as he leans in, breath hot and ragged as his lips firmly press against your own. They feel smooth like velvet, plush and pleasurous against the slightly chapped flesh of yours. You can feel your head spinning, already becoming addicted to the taste of him as he fits his hand in the small of your back, pushing you indefinitely closer and parting his lips.  

Honestly, you’d always thought yourself a fool for falling for him. In the end you knew he could do so much better. You were average, in looks, in academics, in your life. And he was anything but.

He was beautiful and funny and charismatic and an amazing singer.

You can’t count the times on all your fingers and toes that you’d stayed up to watch every video of his, listening to his covers and watching him dance. His kpop life wasn’t something you talked about often, he wanted school to be his escape for all that.  

“Y/N.” Jungkook cuts into your thoughts, breath minty as he puts his forehead against yours. “Do you understand what I mean now?”

You can’t think straight from him kissing you, every nerve in your body a live wire at every small movement he makes, of every puff of breath that lands on your cheeks and every soft word that drops from his lips.

You want him to kiss you again, you want to feel that way again. “How about now?” He has a grin on his face, pecking your lips again and pulling back to find you shaking our head rapidly, eyes glued to his glistening lips.

He hums, kissing you once more and pulling back even faster, not even lingering for a moment before he’s left you alone again. “Now?”

“No.” You say firmly, proud of yourself when you earn a chuckle from him.

“We have a lot more time do that Y/N, but only if…”

“…if what?” You say, in a complete and utter trance.

“Only if you’ll be my girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers, dragging your gaze to his eyes to find them sparkling with hope. He’s serious. He’s actually serious. Jeon Jungkook just asked you out. And not as a friend. As a girl friend.

You don’t know whether to jump for joy or to faint, finding yourself gripping onto his upper arms to to not do the latter. Which doesn’t help at all because you can feel the muscle clenching under your touch.

“Hell yes.” You breathe, watching a huge smile split Jungkook’s face in half.

You pull his neck down, pushing your lips back against his with immense satisfaction when he obliges to your wish, moving his lips against yours. You know this is a bad idea,how are you going to be able to stop kissing him. It’s like pure sunshine is being shot into you.

“Well.” Jungkook runs his hands down your arms. “This is definitely a year to remember.”


Be expecting Part Two soon!

~Admin Eggplant

anonymous asked:

"I read your diary" for BNHA?

The curly haired boy walked up the hallway, his fingers tucked in under the straps of his book bag, passing other students loitering outside of rooms, dismissing his existence like he was no more than a side character to them. His fingers scratched on the straps anxiously. He’d misplaced his hero journal notebook the day before. Knowing how big UA is, he probably wasn’t going to get it back anytime soon.

Oh. He walked past his classroom.

Sliding open his classroom door, he was immediately greeted by a hoard of his fellow students screaming his name. He’d closed the door before he’d even realized. His classmates quickly quieted down, a female student telling them to be quiet, although her voice was muffled.

“DEKU-KUN!!”

The door slammed open from the inside, revealing an extremely excited Uraraka. Her hands slapped onto his wrists, pulling him inside, Izuku screaming in fear. Another student inside closed the door. The students standing outside the hall watched in horror.

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Don’t You Dare!

Originally posted by knightofthefandom

Requested: YES

Requested by anonymous: I’m not sure if you are taking requests or not but if you are could you do one where y/n teases stiles during class and then he ends up teases her when they get home from school smut plz ;)

GIF IS NOT MINE

WORDS: 950

WARNING: smut, masturbation and a bit of swearing.

A/N: I really hope you like it

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So I’ve been thinking about Derek Malik Nurse and how much i love him anyway here’s some headcanons regarding race + percieved chillness. TW: internalized racism, full on white people racism, bullying. 

Derek Nurse was chill. He’d been chill for as long as he could remember. If you traced his life backwards, stopping at certain people whose lives he’d touched, and asked about “derek nurse” they would tell you “oh yeah, he’s chill, dude” and leave it at that.

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The Bento Box

fic for naru-hoe :)

Another box of chocolates. On top of another bento box of onigiri. Inojin’s desk was piled with gifts of food and cards. He wasn’t even in class yet and Sarada was sure that as soon as he arrived, he would be getting several more gifts from his many admirers.

As the classroom door slides open, Inojin enters with a smile on his face as he greets the group of girls huddled near the entrance. One girl swoons in his presence as the rest looks to him bashfully. They hand him gifts and initially, he tries to reject them but the girls are indignant that he receives them so he takes them all in his arms.

As he walks over to his desk, Inojin’s eyes meet with Sarada’s. Sarada glances away with a nonchalant look on her face and he smiles at her as he greets her good morning. She mumbles a response in reply as she turns back to look at his desk again.

“ChouChou will be happy,” she murmurs quietly, not really speaking to him but he heard anyways.

Inojin smiles. “Yeah, it’s a shame to toss them,” he murmurs. “Someone has to appreciate them for me.”

“Why don’t you just eat them yourself?” Sarada asks.

“I don’t want to get fat.”

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KLAINE FIC (One-shot, Blangst prompt)

Prompt 896: Mute!nerd!Blaine is in a relationship with Skank!Kurt. Blaine overhears a conversation between Kurt and one of his skank friends. The girl is telling him to break up with Blaine, because “he’s a nerd and he can’t even speak.” Blaine runs away before he even hears Kurt defending him, and for days he thinks that he’s not good enough for Kurt, and that Kurt is eventually going to break up with him. He finally breaks down, and Kurt comforts and reassures him.

No one really expected Kurt Hummel, the bitchy, self-confident, absolutely boy crazy leader of the Skanks to ever actually settle down with just one guy. So it came as quite a shock to the schools system when the pink streaked boy walked down the hall, hand in hand with the school nerd. Blaine had quite the shock as well. It wasn’t every day that your crush came to your house in the middle of the night, climbed up the side of your house using an old, dodgy ladder, broke into your room and asked you to be his boyfriend while holding a large bouquet of yellow and red roses.

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College!Michael

note: ahahaha this isnt edited and has been sitting in my files for like eight months cause i wasnt proud of it

pairing: michael and y/n

+

I noticed that Michael never really talked to anyone because it seemed like everyone was just too scared to start a conversation with him. Who could blame them when he has a permanent scowl and wears dark clothing as if he has never experienced true happiness? Michael is always glaring when someone bumps into him. He also thinks that wearing ear buds in the middle of a lecture is smart, and then the test comes and I think I see this look of fear on his face. Then, I remember the only emotion Michael Clifford is capable of it bitterness.

And then there’s Luke.

He’s this extremely awkward kid who dresses like a normal college student (someone who is broke and tired). Luke was annoyingly blunt, which isn’t a bad thing, and had a great taste in music, yet he was just weird. He’s the type of person you just don’t really find interesting because he likes to randomly talk about toast and if pigeons have feelings.

You see, I don’t know this for sure. I’m the kid in the class who keeps quiet and pays attention and because I’m “quiet” (I truly am just a focused student) people like to gossip around me. And that’s what I learnt about Luke, a person who talks about toast and the feelings of a pigeon.

But with Michael, I picked up his personality traits because sometimes when Mr. Barry goes on and on about a topic not even related to the lesson, I start to observe Michael. At first it was because I thought he was attractive when he first walked into class with that bad boy vibe and cute little scowl that was probably just a hoax. After a while, I developed a crush and I constantly urged myself to go talk to him because he really was attractive and I really was desperate and lonely for companionship.

But that all went down the toilet like all my hopes and dreams when Jesse, some kid in the class I didn’t even realize was in this lecture, bashfully went up to him and asked him if he would like to go get some frozen yogurt sometime. Michael’s angry frown got bigger, he stated a simple “No.” and rolled his eyes into another dimension. Luke chortled from the desk beside Michael and Michael just rolled his eyes, again and plugged his ears back up with those dumb, black ear buds.

After that, I decided to admire from afar and let Beatrice from a row behind me gush about how Michael is just so gorgeous. Girls and guys were attracted to him, yet Michael didn’t even seem to realize it. All these people fawning over him and he makes no advances. I didn’t know if he was asexual or just really hated people, but I would just love to date him.

I imagine the cute things we’d do like sleep until noon and then wake up to go to our afternoon classes after a sweet and simple kiss goodbye. Or make ramen at two in the morning when we both realize procrastination was a terrible idea and we do definitely need to get a good grade on the test. You know, just the basic college romance stuff.

In the midst of my daydreaming, I heard Beatrice whisper loudly to the her friend beside her, “I think I’m gonna try to talk to Michael after class.”

My ears perked up at my heart started to beat faster at her words. As the professor dismissed the class and everyone began to pile out, I pulled out my phone to text my roommate from across the hallway in her lecture to come get Chinese Food with me. She sent back a simple ‘ok’ and I left the classroom. Sliding my back down the cool wall, I sat down by the door across the hall and placed my bag beside me.

And just as I expected, I see Michael leave the classroom last and Beatrice waiting close by. Her eyes lit up with excitement seeing the cowling, pale boy who was probably listening to Luke go on about something weird. When she began to approach the two, Luke broke out into a friendly smile, yet Mike’s expression remained the same as it always did.

“Hi, Michael. Can we talk?” Bea asked, biting at her lip and nervously looking down at her shoes. Before Michael could say no as he usually does, Luke nodded enthusiastically and pushed his best friend towards her. He walked away and Michael’s grimace grew with bitterness.

Beatrice finally raised her gaze to bat her eyelashes at him. Nervously tucking her hair behind her ear, she finally said, “Would you like to-”

“No.”

I tried to stifle my laugh with the sleeve of my college sweater, enjoying the show as I waited for my roommate to come out.

Her jaw dropped, but closed as quickly as it opened. Michael hiked up his bag onto his shoulder and started to walk closer to me before she began to jog after him and grab at his bicep eagerly.

“You didn’t let me finish,” she said. Her pout was spot on, I must say. The way her eyes looked glassy with fake sadness and neediness would have had me convinced, but Michael didn’t even seem fazed.

He rolled his eyes once again. “Doesn’t matter. The answer’s still no, so leave me alone.”

Michael attempted to walk away again, nearing the door I was standing beside. But once again, I could hear Beatrice yell, “Fine!” Seeing Michael mumble a frustrated “oh my God” underneath his breath had me trying to stop my laughter once again. “I didn’t even like you that much anyways. You’re too emo for me!”

A bitter chuckle escaped Michael as he and I both turned to see Beatrice stomp away down the other end of the hallway. Once her retreating figure rounded the nearest corner, I couldn’t help but finally release all of the giggling I pent up inside me. Throwing my head back so it rested on the wall behind me, my laughter died down slightly before a booming voice said, “What’s so funny?”

My head snapped to see a growling Michael above me. He looked even more pissed than he did when I saw him walk into class today. His eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance and his lips were still turned down at the corners as always. This was the first time he has ever spoken to me and my heart got caught in my throat when I realized the deep Australian accent was directed towards me.

Rising from my placement on the floor, I grabbed my bag and swung it over my shoulder so it rested on my back. My roommate would be out any minute and I could get away from Michael and how nervous he made me.

“Nothing really,” I mumbled.

“Then why the hell were you laughing? It’s not polite to eavesdrop into other people’s conversations,” he spat while his green eyes bore into my soul menacingly.

I shrugged. “How would you know what polte means when you rejected a perfectly nice girl before she could even ask you on a date?” His angry eyebrows almost rose in shock, but then Michael kept his composure. “And it’s not eavesdropping if she was basically yelling down the hall for you.”

All of a sudden, students started to pour out from the door we stood by, my roommate included. When I saw their head of black hair, I looked back at Michael who was left speechless. Waving awkwardly, I pushed past him, inhaling his boyish smell at the same time. And he smelt so good I could have just passed out from happiness right then and there. But I had to keeping going with the calm, cool, and collected bravado I unintentionally created.

“See you around, emo.” I laughed at my own joke as I referred to Beatrice’s previous words. “Don’t go around being rude to people while I’m not around.”

With that, I left a dumbstruck, green eyed cutie to find my roommate in the throng of college students.

+

It’s been four days since Michael and I’s last encounter, our only encounter, and I was back in Mr. Barry’s class as he went on and on about how we all slacked too much in his class. So, I found myself inspecting how long my nails are starting to get as I listened to Beatrice ramble on and on once again.

“Yeah, I realized he was just too clingy because before I could even ask to hang out, he was begging me to go see this new movie. I thought he was supposed to be that mysterious guy, but he’s really just an annoying—”

Okay, I tried really hard not to give a shit. But just hearing those words come out of her as a primary source, I couldn’t help the laughter that escaped my mouth. It wasn’t that loud, but Beatrice stopped ranting to talk to me.

“Oh my God, Y/N’s going insane, just sitting there and laughing to herself,” Beatrice whispered to one of her friends. Rolling my eyes, I tried to pay more attention to the lecture.

That’s something else about being quiet. When they start to talk about you, you’re already too invisible, so they talk as loud as they want.

As Mr. Barry started to talk about how everyone needs to stop obsessing over that Pokemon Go game, I caught myself being bored again. Beatrice finished talking to her friends about Michael and joined the class discussion on the virtual game that was the latest fad in society.

Just like always, I found my gaze trailing towards Michael. To my surprise, he was already looking at me with curious eyes and I wanted to die.

I was sitting at my desk for most the lecture mimicking Bea whenever she said something done and no one would stop me because no one ever paid attention. My cheeks lit up with embarrassment. Before I could start to really sink into my chair and hope that I sunk all the way down to the fiery pits of hell, the professor spoke up.

“Mr. Clifford, please direct your attention to the front of the room and not the girl you’ve been staring at for half of my lesson,” Mr. Barry said before turning his back towards the whiteboard to write something else down.

Then, the bell rang and as all the students packed their things back into their bags, I could hear Bea say, “I told you all he was obsessed with me.”

Scoffing obnoxiously, and blushing when her group turned towards me, I quickly bolted from the classroom.

Before I could make it down the hall, a soft hand gripped onto my forearm. I turned around, surprised to see the one and only Michael Clifford who had a small smile instead of a scowl toying at his lips.

He had on a baggy band shirt with a skull on it and ripped black jeans. His hair was a tousled mess of black and he looked good. Good enough for me to stand there speechless when he forced out a soft, “Hey there, Y/N.”

My body had a mind of its own when I unexpectedly raised my hand to give a short, awkward wave.

“So, I was wondering,” he started, staring down at his black converse clad feet before looking back up at me with nervous, green eyes. “You like food right?” he asked. I tried to stifle the laugh that was going to bubble over inside me.

“Yeah, food’s pretty good.”

He nodded, looking down at his shoes again and furrowing his eyebrows, the piercing gleaming underneath the hallway lights.

“Would you like to eat with me, sometime? Eat food?” Michael questioned, eyes widening and him mumbling an “oh my God” under his breath. “I’m sorry. This is so awkward. I’m just gonna go, bye,” he hurriedly stated, pushing passed me slightly to get away.

I grabbed his forearm like he did with mine before. “No it’s okay, I’d love to eat food with you.“

"Uh, great. Cool. I’ll give you the details later.”