this guy really freaks me out tbh


GOT7 when you pretend to be mad at them and they freak out~

Wow, you guys are really cruel to these poor boys!! Hahaha~ Just kidding, thanks for the cute request! Hope it’s what you wanted~

Requested By: Anon

anonymous asked:

I really need advice and like I'm freaking out,I'm going on a date tomorrow and it's my first ever time going on a date with a guy and I'm so nervous I don't know what I'm doing and how to approach this could I please get one tips on how to make me feel more calm after all its only a coffee date

Just be you Hun its all you can do tbh and just try stay calm! You’ll be fine promise 💖

I Hate Maths

its 12:54 am and i have a geography assessment first period the next morning (or rather later in the day) and then art assessment later but for some reason *cough you thirsty freaks cough* i am still up, writing this imagine and tbh i had no idea where i was going with this and it’s turned out really strange like i liked the start and the end but the middle bit with the smut annoys me but idk i hope y’all enjoy this

also btw i call it “loo” u know the place where u go and pee and shower and clean up but it sounded rly vulgar when i wrote it so i put “bathroom” instead and idk where y’all are from so just know that its the place where there’s like a shower and a wc and a basin and mirrors and u shower in there ya

and ps. you guys should request for a part two, i swear it’ll be loads better

word count - 3936

warning - swearing, unexpected fluff, ~smut

The bell rang, and all the students immediately packed their books and rushed out of the classroom without so much as a backward glance to the teacher who was standing in the front of the class looking hopelessly lost.

“She’s a teacher, shouldn’t she be more sure of what’s going on in her class?” Y/F/N said to you, eyebrows raised.

You shrugged, placing your books into your bag and rising from your seat. “Give her a break Y/F/N, she’s still new, and you have to admit, we’re not exactly a welcoming bunch.”

As you headed to your next lessons, you thought of the last night, when Y/S/N had come into your room to try and “bond” with you.

“Hey Y/F/N, if you were to kick Y/F/S/N out of your room because she was annoying you even though she was just trying to be a good sister and bond with you, would you feel bad and apologise?” You could tell that Y/F/N hadn’t been expecting such a question and he was silent for a while, before finally answering.

“If it was really Y/F/S/N and I, I think you and I both know the answer. Neither of us would feel guilty about saying anything or doing anything to each other. But I think…. Y/S/N is probably beating herself up about the entire conversation right now and she’s probably analysed every single syllable you’ve said and over-read everything but I don’t think that you really care. You don’t care about Y/S/N or what she thinks and I think you’re probably more worried about the next conversation you’ll be having where she tearfully confronts you about being such a bitch to her all the time and I think that you’re hella reluctant to face that conversation because no matter how bitchy and rude you seem, you actually do have a bit of compassion in you and you don’t really want to hurt her again,” he stopped for a breath and looked inquiringly at you, silently asking for an answer.

“You’re probably right,” you admitted. You stopped in front of a door and Y/F/N raised his hand in a mock-wave before winking at you and leaving, heading to his lesson.

You entered the classroom, settling into your seat and pulling out your books all in the matter of minutes. It was Maths, one of your favourite subjects and you couldn’t afford to lose focus, not with finals so close.

“Alright you little shits, we’ll be doing Algebra today, so anyone who’s shit at it, go find a smart partner or else you won’t be able to answer anything and you’ll end up in detention.” Mr Royston clapped his hands together, looking expectantly at all the dazed faces in front of him. “Well? Do I need to put you guys in pairs? Are you guys still in Year 3?”

At that, everyone scrambled out of their seats and the class exploded into chaos. There were students climbing over tables in their eagerness to get to their partner and students elbowing or kicking each other in their hurry. You supported your head on your hands as you leaned forward in your seat. Suddenly, a thud sounded beside you and you turned to see Ashton Irwin, star football player and resident jerk-slash-bad boy-slash asshole, grinning maniacally at you.


“What are you doing here?” You raised your eyebrows, your voice filled with contempt as you looked questioningly at the blond-haired boy sitting next to you. It was no secret that you had no love for the footballer, especially since he’d broken the heart of one of your closest friends and she’d ended up killing herself over it. It was pretty reasonable, wasn’t it? And Ashton didn’t like you much either, not since the art club and drama club were started and funds that used to go to funding their football matches or something went instead to funding the art and drama supplies. After all, he was captain of the team.

“Mr Royston told us to find partners didn’t he? Well here I am!”

“Are you for real? You? Partnering with me?” You smirked. “I wonder who’s going to make the first move.”

“The first move? For what?” Ashton frowned, his eyebrows furrowed together. Gods, it was adorable. No it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. Nothing Ashton Irwin did could possibly be adorable. You shook your head and glanced at Ashton, whose features were still in a frown.

“To kill each other, of course. Or maybe just gouge out one another’s eyeballs.”

You watched as Ashton’s expression changed from confusion to horror and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips.

He shook his head and reached down to his bag to take out his exercise book. “Whatever. You’re weird as fuck and we have Maths to do. You’re gonna have a lot of shit to do because numbers are another fucking language to me. ” He turned and looked expectantly at you, who still hadn’t made any move to start on the work that the teacher had set for everyone.

“Y'know, technically Maths is another language.”

Ashton rolled his eyes and shifted his gaze to the board, where Mr Royston had put up a ridiculously long list of algebraic equations for you all to solve.

“I don’t fucking get it. How am I supposed to find 𝑥 if there’s no fucking equal sign?” Ashton’s fingers were gripped so tightly around his pen that you wondered how long it would be before it broke.

“You’re not solving 𝑥. You’re supposed to factorise it, not solve to find 𝑥. And besides, there’s no 𝑥 in this equation. It’s i.”

Ashton leaned back in his chair, his defeated expression evident on his face. “I hate Maths. I hate Algebra. I hate numbers. I fucking loathe Mr Royston.”

You chuckled. You were pretty surprised that the past twenty minutes spent trying to teach him how to factorise equations did not cause either of you to snap but instead, you’d enjoyed each other’s company quite a bit. Okay, maybe ‘enjoy’ wasn’t the best word but it was good enough. “Stop being daft. Maths is great. You only hate it because you don’t know how to do it.”

Immediately Ashton sat up straighter, his eyes gleaming. “Oh yeah, pint-sized? What’s so great about Maths? Do enlighten me.” You stomach tightened at the nickname, he knew you hated it when he made fun of your height.

“Well for one, you’d need it to count the number of girls you’ve slept with, at the very least.” You smirked, knowing you’d hit a nerve when his knuckles curled into a fist.

“At least I have slept with someone, instead of being a fucking prude like you. Or do you not even like guys? Guys definitely don’t like you, I know.”

You knew that your earlier compatibility must have been a lie and could not possibly have been real. This was the real Ashton Irwin, the one who hurt people on purpose, the one who enjoyed inflicting harm, be it physically or mentally on others, without a conscience.

You smiled, knowing it would put him off. “You’re wrong actually. A lot of boys do like me, I’ve just never returned the favour and that’s why idiots like you would automatically assume the opposite. And besides, I’d rather be a prude than a whore, or a manwhore, in your case.”

Ashton’s eyes widened. “A whore? Did you just call me a whore?”

You shrugged. “Just telling you what you already know.”

“I hate the word whore. Fuckboy sounds better.” He shook his head, as if just realising what he’d just said.

“You, Ashton Irwin, are a fuckboy, a jerk, an asshole and many other less redeeming words that I do not feel like mentioning right now.” You pointed your pen at him, as if knighting him the way Queen Elizabeth would if he wasn’t so much of a dick and more of a gentleman.

He cocked an eyebrow. “And many other less redeeming words that I do not feel like mentioning right now,” he mimicked, his voice pitched at an absurdly high key, since he knew full well that your voice was probably lower than some of the boys in the school. “Since when did you care about swearing? You swear so much, the whole school would’ve probably collapsed if it weren’t for the fact that it’s been blessed by the Reverend Godfrey.”

At that, you perked up. “The school’s been blessed by a reverend?” Your voice betrayed none of the surprise you felt, but you supposed you just weren’t used to living in a religious community.

Just then, the bell rang, breaking their “moment”. You hurriedly stuffed your belongings into your bag and stood, but not before Ashton’s hand snaked around your arm.

“Hey! We still have to finish the homework! It’s due on Friday.” Ashton’s pleading voice sounded in the room and you crinkled your brow.

“Huh? I’ve already finished it, haven’t you?”

“No!” He sounded indignant. “I don’t understand anything. I told you, I hate Maths.”

“Uh, so… What do you want to do about it?”

“We could have a study group.”

You snorted. “A study group? Honestly? Ashton Irwin wants to have a study group? Wow, I never thought I’d hear the day.”

“Don’t be rude,” he retorted, standing up and glaring down at you. Wow he really is tall. How does someone even get that tall anyway? You felt annoyed that he was so tall but you were stuck in permanent fun-sized mode.

“We’ll have a study group. Just the two of us,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and you shuddered,  flinching from the thought of being intimate with him.

“No thank you.” You pursed your lips and turned away, heading for the door.

“I’ll text you the details,” you heard him call out after you as you headed for lunch.

What an impetuous, self-serving dickhead.

It was a hot Saturday afternoon and you were sitting in your room staring at your Chemistry worksheet, wondering why the hell you ever made the decision to take Triple Sciences instead of Double Award Sciences like everyone else who was sane. You had been staring at the question for the past 15 minutes, not a single word registering in your mind as you nervously awaited Ashton’s arrival. To your surprise, he’d actually been true to his word and had “scheduled a study group” with you, as he liked to phrase it. No, I’m not nervously awaiting him. Why would I be nervous around Ashton Irwin? I’m the smartest girl in the year, I’m not afraid of him. You shook your head, forcing yourself away from your thoughts and back to reality.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and you screamed, not expecting anything. The house was empty, as it usually was and you were all alone. Oh God, what if it’s a serial killer? No, a serial killer wouldn’t ring the bell, he’d scale the wall and enter through the bedroom windows. It’s probably Ashton, you tried to reassure yourself that no one was out to kill you. After all, your biggest crime was not returning that extra nugget that McDonald’s had given.

As you cautiously tiptoed down the stairs, you headed into the kitchen and took a knife out and wielded it in front of you, the way you’d seen all those action heroes do in movies. Your mum had drilled it into your head to always have something to protect yourself when opening doors to unexpected guests and you were pretty sure a knife was a good way to protect yourself.

You cracked open the door slowly, cursing your family for not listening to you when they’d renovated the house but still did not install windows or any sort of way to look out of the house without opening the door. You peeked out, heart pounding. All you could see was a black clad torso that seemed to stretch on forever, and you frowned, craning your head upwards to see who the body belonged to.

A boy was grinning down at you, his eyes sparkling and his blond hair curling in the wind. “Hi. Uh, why are you holding a knife like you’re gonna stab me?’ He scratched the back of his neck as his eyebrows furrowed, looking at you, uncomprehending.

You laughed. See? It was Ashton Irwin. “What are you doing here?” You asked suspiciously.

“Uh, we were supposed to have a study group? Maths? Hello, ring any bells?” He waved a hand in front of you and you blinked. “Right,” you had totally forgotten that you’d been waiting for him to turn up, what with possible serial killers entering your home occupying your mind instead.

“Uh, come on in, I guess.” You opened the door wide, gesturing into the expanse of the doorway.

“You guess? What if I was secretly a serial killer?” He laughed as he trailed behind you and you immediately spun around, pointing the knife at him in an accusing fashion.

“Woah, okay, okay.” His hands rose in defense and his voice held bits of laughter that told you he didn’t take any of this seriously, which pissed you off a lot.

“Man, this is fucked up. You listen to Green Day? You know Nirvana? How-” Ashton broke off, looking at your shelves in wonder. They were filled to the brim with collections of song albums that included bands like Green Day, My Chemical Romance, All Time Low and so on, and you weren’t surprised at his reaction to seeing them in your room, of all people.

“How does someone like me listen to cool loud bands like them?” You raised an eyebrow at him as you headed to your study table to collect your notes.

When you turned back around, you were startled to see that he was standing right in front of you, head downcast, his lips inches from yours. You blinked rapidly, trying to distract your mind from his plump lips that seemed to be begging for you to kiss him. No, no, no, no. This cannot be happening. We hate each other. You forced a laugh, trying to pretend that you weren’t totally thrown off guard when he came up to you like that.

“You know, you’re real cute when you’re all defensive and sarcastic. Your brows kinda scrunch up and you glare at me in this really cute way.” He looked at you, unaware that your heart was beating several hundred kilometres per hour and that it felt ready to jump out of your chest.

He smiled again, slowly walking towards you. When he reached you, he put his arms around your waist, pulling you towards him whilst pushing you backwards until you were pressed against the table. You could feel him against your thigh and your eyebrows rose against your will, astonished at the apparent notion that you had given Ashton Irwin a boner, and you hadn’t even noticed until he was pressed up against you.

“Uh, Ashton? We’re supposed to be helping you finish your Algebra sheet.” Your voice was higher than you thought it would be and it annoyed you to no end as your cheeks burned.

“I can think of other things you can help me with, other than Algebra, princess.” He grinned wickedly down at you and you gulped. You weren’t a virgin, of course and you knew what sex felt like, but to be entirely honest, you didn’t see why it was such a big deal, but maybe that was because all the guys you’d been with weren’t much of a big deal either.

Hmm… Maybe I should play along, you thought to yourself.

You lowered your head and batted your lashes at him, your voice soft as you asked, “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Ashton merely bent his head down and suddenly, you were kissing and you felt like you had just gone to heaven. He tasted of coffee and mints and kissing him made you feel like you were floating on cloud nine, like you were home. It was a strange idea, Ashton Irwin’s lips feeling like home, but it was true. You pulled apart, pushing him away wildly and shaking your head. He smirked at you, as if it was exactly the reaction he’d expected.

He pressed himself against you harder, tugging at your hand and guiding it towards his erection. You raised your eyebrows, wanting him to say it out loud. He glared at you, but you weren’t backing down. Oh no, for once you had control over him, and you sure as hell wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip.

He groaned and rolled his eyes skyward, but you remained stoic, merely cocking an eyebrow and looking expectantly at him. Truth be told, you had no idea what you were doing or more importantly, why you were doing it, but you couldn’t deny that you were attracted to him and that he -obviously- was attracted to you too. You decided to put aside your sensibility for once and go with your instincts, and your instincts were telling you to continue. Or maybe you were just horny. Whatever. It didn’t matter; you’d deal with the aftermath after.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. I hate you, you know?”

You didn’t reply, just stood there smirking at him, waiting for him to break.

“Ohsuckmeoff.” He mumbled, his words running together as he glared at you again.

“I’m sorry? Did you say something?” Your voice was teasing and he could tell that you were enjoying making him uncomfortable.

“Suck me off, Y/N. Christ, is it really that hard?” His tone was annoyed now, and you smirked, knowing that it was because of you that his growing erection was still pressed against your thigh and his knuckles were clenched so tight they’d gone white.

He glared at you for a while longer, seeming like he was debating what to do next in his mind. Finally he made a decision and he pulled you towards him again, his lips pressing down on yours. This time, the kiss was rough and full of urgency, his hands roaming your sides and his tongue exploring your mouth like he’d never found a wonder more amazing. Your hands found their way to his hair and you curled your fingers around them, tugging and pulling as his hands explored your clothed body and his lips explored yours.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. Stop doing that or I’m going to come right here.”

You smiled into the kiss, glad that for the first time, you were the one getting him all riled up and jumpy, not some other girl that he would probably forget the name after two hours after they were done. Or at least, you hoped that you weren’t going to be just another girl on his list, another forgotten memory.

“Can the Maths wait for later?” He asked, his voice breathy and his breaths coming in short little pants as he broke apart from you.

You bit your lip and looked at him through your eyelashes. “Sure.”

You unbuttoned his pants slowly, sliding your palms under his shirt, scraping your fingernails against his stomach. He was in the midst of unbuttoning your shirt when you both heard the front door open, and a voice call out. “Y/N? Honey, I’m home.”

You both jumped away from each other, your hearts pounding. Ashton quickly tugged on his jeans and buttoned his shirt back up, profanities escaping his lips as he did so. You heard the stairs creak and a knock on your door sounded.

“Y/N? You okay in there?” Your mum’s voice sounded.

You fumbled with the buttons on your shirt as you called out an answer. “Yeah mum, I’m fine. Just studying with a mate.”

You gestured frantically at Ashton to open up his notes and pretend that he was studying and he quickly sat down on your bed, opening up his book and staring at it, his lips curled up slightly at the sides. God damn him and his cuteness. Your mum opened the door and stuck her head in, looking surprised to see Ashton on your bed.

“Who’s that, honey?”

Ashton raised his hand in a wave and he flashed your mum a smile that read “Hello, I’m a great guy who would never in a million years try to have sex with your daughter,” and you stifled a laugh.

“Uh, he’s just a boy from school and we had this Maths assignment in class and he couldn’t complete it so I offered to help him out. It’s nothing, mum.” You managed, your cheeks bright red and your voice uncharacteristically high, as it always was when you were lying, although technically speaking, you weren’t lying.

Your mum raised her eyebrows, puzzled at your strange behaviour, but choosing not to comment on it. “Okay, Y/N. Just behave, alright? Both of you,” she added, casting a stern look towards Ashton.

He nodded earnestly and you found yourself stifling another laugh.

The door closed and Ashton immediately stood up, walking towards where you were, still with your back against the table and your feet crossed.

“So, can we continue?”

Your eyes widened at his suggestion and you looked at him as though he was mad. He probably was. Mad and horny.

“No,” you hissed, pushing him towards your bathroom. “My mum’s right downstairs, and in case you didn’t realise, the walls aren’t soundproof.” Catching his incredulous stare, you added resignedly, “Besides’ if she ever found out, I would probably be homeschooled.”

His eyebrows raised in disbelief. “She doesn’t let you have sex?”

“What?! Of course not. What sane parent would? And besides, they probably don’t think that anyone would ever want to have sex with me either.” You laughed, although the laugh contained some of the resentment you held towards your parents and their non-existent faith in you to be attractive to the opposite sex.

“So, you’re a virgin?” He was confused.


“Wha- You just said you weren’t allowed to have sex?” He looked like someone who’d just been told that the one thing he’d ever believed in in life wasn’t true and that he didn’t know what to do with his life anymore and it was such an unexpected expression to see on Ashton Irwin’s face that you burst out laughing.

“No, it just means that I’ve never had sex that they knew about,” you explained. “It doesn’t matter. Go, and relieve yourself or something. I have Chemistry to do,” you gestured at him in a shooing motion towards the door of the bathroom.

He pouted, glancing at his still prominent erection. “So we aren’t going to have sex?” You thought he looked about as disappointed as you felt but you did your best to hide it, thinking that he probably didn’t need to know that you had wanted to have sex with him just as much as he’d wanted it.

“No. I barely even know you. I’m not going to jump into bed with some guy who hates me. I don’t even know your middle name.” You turned away and sat down at your table, picking up your pen and twirling it as you tried once again to focus on the Chemistry questions in front of you.

“It’s Fletcher, my middle name.” You heard him call out from the bathroom.

You shook your head, wondering what the hell were the pair of you doing.