#but jesus fuck. i just keep sitting in my dorm and staring at a wall and thinking about it.

[spice-ghouls]

.

[moonctzeny]

love to hate me

request:  celebrity! jaehyun + enemies to lovers + “don’t you want to know how i feel?”

pairing: friends to enemies to lovers! jaehyun x female reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff... this fic has it all folks

word count:  7.514k

warnings: toxic behaviour, public sex, light restraining, jaehyun pulls a ‘white boy punching the wall’ at some point 

summary: “You and Jaehyun meet as SM trainees, developing a friendship until he debuts and you deicde to leave the company and pursue a solo career. When you reunite again in a music show and he acts like he barely knows you, you stubbornly begin a series of hate-brimmed sex rendez-vous. Your touch-and-go relationship continues on, until a song collaboration will force you both to deal with all your repressed feelings for each other”

a/n: this is the longest it has ever taken me to finish a fic.. I have a love-hate relationship with this (no pun intended XD). I hope whoever requested this likes it!

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Of-fucking-course you had to bump into him out of all people at the vending machine. All you wanted was a drink to refresh you before you got up on stage, and now you have to deal with Mr. Too Good For This World and his relentless teasing. His eyes, lit up by an amusement that was also evident in his smirk, stayed glued on your body, raking up and down at it for a second too long. Not that you didn’t like it.

“Stare much?”, you bark at him in hopes of snapping him out of his trance, and push through him to punch in the code of your favorite drink. But alas, he always had a comeback ready on the edge of his lips.

“You look ridiculous”, he states and you have to admit that your outfit, though fitting for the Halloween special of today’s music show, was way different than anything else he had ever seen you in. Reincarnated as Dorothy Gale for the night, your stylists had chosen a short, light blue checkered dress, with red stilettos that gave a sexy twist to the character’s ruby slippers. Hair neatly braided in two pigtails, decorated by ribbons and topped off by glittery pink makeup. The image of innocence. Jaehyun had to laugh.

“Says the man dressed up as Woody”

It was unfair, you admitted, how good he looked in that stupid outfit. His hair was gelled back, a few strands framing his handsome face strategically. The yellow shirt fitted him like a glove, its bright colour lighting him up as well. And those jeans, tight in all the right places, just melted over the muscles of his thighs. The ones that you’ve come undone on one too many times.

“So”, he lilts, giving you a once over before lowering both the volume and pitch of his voice, “want a ride?”

You scoff, sparing him an incredulous look, “on what horse, cowboy?”

He doesn’t reply, only points with his eyes to his crotch that is undeniably sporting a visible tent, and you gasp when you see the outline of his dick twitching under your stare.

“Jesus Christ, Jaehyun”, you mutter with a disgusted look on your face before picking up the almost forgotten beverage that the vending machine had barfed out for you. The boy mentioned, however, was unfazed.

“They don’t call me Woody for nothing”

Almost choking at the drink that was supposed to calm you down, you catch his eyes rolling at you through your third cough. Well, that ruins one of your favourite childhood movies. “Don’t pretend to be a prude. Now are we going to fuck before you get on stage of not?”

You can clearly remember the first time you met Jung Jaehyun alone. You always spotted him somewhere in the SM buildings, joking around with his future bandmates, barely ever without company. As a fellow vocal trainee, he introduced himself to you as Yoonoh, filling up the awkward silence while your vocal teacher prepared the music sheets for the both of you to rehearse.

You were thankful the two of you always got paired up together. Jaehyun was charming, easy to be around, funny. He was a model SM trainee with the otherworldly looks he possessed, almost impossible for anyone’s eyes not to follow him when he entered a room. Radiant porcelain skin, soft brown locks, and a dimpled smile that made your heart melt in seconds.

You can also clearly remember the first time you had the privilege of hearing him sing. Jaehyun had a beautiful baritone voice, one that contradicted his flower boy image but matched his manly personality perfectly. The four walls of the small practice room resonated with his sound, that was stable and smooth like honey. The lessons were challenging but Jaehyun made them bearable through spending time with him. Maybe it was your shared struggles, or how you were always tired and vulnerable when you saw him. Maybe it was those damned dimples, but your heart always beat faster when you were around him.

“Sometimes I get discouraged”, he confides in you in that same room, hours later, early into the morning now. The vocal lesson stretched on longer than expected, leaving you two sitting on the floor, sharing a cup of lemon-honey tea to soothe your vocal chords. You let your head rest to the leather couch behind you as you stare into his handsome features one by one. What time was it? Shouldn’t you be back at your dorms by now? It didn’t matter, this was one of those moments when time seems to stop and life seems unreal. When the only thing that you care about is the person standing next to you, and whatever it is they have to tell you.

 “I fear that I will never get to debut. There’s handsome guys all over the company. I just don’t know if my skills are enough.”  

You thought he was crazy for thinking that way, wanted to scream at him that he’s just perfect and more than enough for the company, or for anything in this world for that matter. But Jaehyun was reserved, the type to always mask his true feelings behind a smile and you were more than glad that he finally opened up to you, that he saw you as someone trustworthy. You didn’t want to dismiss his feelings, so you just pet his hair while you listened to his concerns.

 As you mindlessly gaze at the rainy weather outside, a couple of droplets following their own path down the froggy window remind you that time does run by. Even if every day seemed the same, following the same routine, going to the same classes over and over again.

Jaehyun had this sad look that contorted his pretty face and you hated it, reaching up to massage away the wrinkles between his eyebrows. You don’t know which godly creature made the hourglass of time freeze this moment, nor did you know why Jaehyun leaned forward to capture your lips into a kiss. Maybe it was his way of saying thank you for keeping your ears and heart open for him, for listening to him when he needed it most.

It felt so lovely while it lasted, two young people leaning on each other during an uncertainty that anchored them far away from their emotional shoreline. But life as a trainee isn’t a fairytale and falling in love can have serious ramifications. So you promise to each other that this will be a one time thing, and then you never speak of this night ever again.

Unsurprisingly enough, Jaehyun got to successfully debut, yet you didn’t have the same luck. The company had plans of focusing on their new boy group, thus postponing your debut for an uncertain amount of time. It was hard for you to decide to switch labels, to throw away the years of hope and dedication you had pinned on this company but the faith you placed on yourself was stronger.

It’s years later when you finally get to promote as a solo artist in a different company, and you are happy to say that the decision you made all those years ago was the right one. The exposure you got wasn’t the same as being in a Big 3 company, however leaving SM entertainment has its pros. Flexible schedule, less scrutiny, great creative freedom over your work. 

This wasn’t the first time you have come across your old trainee buddy. Jaehyun had multiple comebacks in a year, so it was only natural that his group’s and your promotions would sometimes overlap. You were only a rookie, and NCT turned out to become pretty popular, so of course the wins were always tied to their names.

The first time you walked past him in the hallways, dark makeup and professional styling making you both almost unrecognizable, you expected a wave, small talk, maybe some reminiscing of the old times. Instead, you got a cold stare or at best, an arrogant smirk coupled with a “Do better next time”. It was shocking to you how much Yoonoh, the boy with the shy smile and awkward social skills, would turn into such a stranger.

How you always ended up sneaking out with him to have a quickie in one of the ready rooms, was beyond you. He rushed you inside before checking both sides of the hallway, cautious to hide from any curious eyes. The coast was clear and Jaehyun doesn’t like to waste time, so he pins you against the door he just closed behind him, face dipped in your neck. You can feel his fingers dancing on the skin of your thighs, eager to explore what is hidden under your frilly skirt, and their delicacy in contrast to his feverish kisses sends a shiver down your spine.

One pretty whine from your lips, then two, three and you can feel Jaehyun smile deviously against your neck. The softness is too enticing for him to resist, so he nips at it skillfully, trying to get a reaction out of you. He recognizes that you have plenty of talent as a singer, yet the symphonies you sing out for him in those little sessions seem to be his favorite.

“Jaehyun, cut it out. I’m going on stage in like, 20 minutes”

“Turn me on then”

Wasn’t he the one that basically flashed you in the middle of the cafeteria for just existing? Isn’t it his hard on that digs against your lower stomach? The demand made you mad, and you wanted nothing more than to entice him with a nice blowjob, only to take a big, strong bite off that cock of his. But see, you had a full face of makeup on and your career is way more important than a fuckboy, so you’ll have to get creative.

Flipping him around so that he’s the one trapped between you and the door, you start to suck on his collarbones , then nibble at the tender flesh. He seems distracted enough by it so that you open the button of his jeans and fully remove his belt from their loops with no objections. Palming him over his boxers to keep him entranced, you manage to bring his wrists together, wrapping the leather around them, then lastly fastening them in place.

His eyes widen in shock when he realizes that he’s too late, wiggling his hands in a futile attempt to free himself. Your laugh is sadistic, making the hairs on his arms stand on edge and you gloat in the effect you have on him. 

Giving your palm a good lick, you form a ring with your fingers, wrapping them around the base of his member. He hisses and drops his head back, thudding loudly against the wall. His cock enlarges and reddens as you move your hand up and down, changing the pressure according to his reactions. Jaehyun isn’t one to express himself freely but there is not much he can do to stop the low moans leaving his lips. Not when you rub circles over his tip with the soft skin of your palm.

He looks so fucking good, all squirmy and desperate and trying to hold himself from saying ‘please’. You almost want to keep going, squeeze him more until he whines and begs to cum, and admire the white beads dripping from his slit and covering your hand. Almost.

You halt your movements with a last strong stroke, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare back at him. Jaehyun tentatively opens one eye to see why you have stopped, only to come across that bratty smile that he loves as much as he hates.

“You should have dressed up as a siren. Seducing people before they realize you are a man eating bitch”

“If you want someone to jerk you off you can go ask one of your little fangirls. I want to get fucked.”

“Let me go then. And you’ll wish you never did”

You scoff at his cockiness, nonchalantly freeing him from his constraints, and the way he immediately has a hold of your jaw reminds you of a predator eyeing its prey. His eyes have a crazy look in them, moving frantically over every part of your body like he can’t decide what to grab onto first. He decides on your hips, bending you over a table full of snacks and makeup tools and flyers of today’s schedule.

“You think it’s funny to tease me like that?”, he asks you with a peremptory voice that signifies you’d better shut up.

You hear shuffling behind you and assume it’s him slipping on a condom, so you make yourself more comfortable on the wooden surface. A hard slap on your ass jolts you alert.

“I asked you a fucking question”, Jaehyun presses brusquely and flips your skirt fully over your ass, pulling your panties down until they’re bunched up right over your knees.

“It’s fun”, you moan out, breathless both from the pleasure and the stinging feeling on your right cheek, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Was the room occupied by one of the artists that have already been on stage? Or will they barge in at any moment to find you bent over and pussy dripping for Jaehyun to finally dive inside you? He chuckled at the sight of you, eyes feasting off your naked body, your ass up just the way he likes it. Not so innocent anymore, huh?

He doesn’t reply to you, aligning himself against your slit and bottoming out in one go instead. Involuntarily, you let out a small screech, the sudden stretch catching you off guard.

“You better stay quiet, siren. Or maybe you would like it if people found us like this? Saw how good you take my cock whenever I ask”

You wanted to bite back at him, but the only sound you could make was a guttural moan. It was embarrassingly loud, and you fall forward to bite your fist and force yourself to shut up. It was effective, yet Jaehyun had other plans for you, pulling your pigtails towards him in a strong grip that has you against his chest in seconds.

“Nuh, uh, uh, siren”, he hums in your ear, his panting making his voice sound huskier and smokier than ever, “How about trying to stay quiet by using your willpower alone? That way it’s more- how did you call it? Fun.” 

He slows down his pace momentarily, as if he’s giving you time to answer him. But the moment you open your mouth to talk back at him, he thrusts particularly hard inside you, forcing a whimper out of your lips.

“Fuck you, Jaehyun”

“As you wish”

Jaehyun was conceited and cocky and a dick, but he was also a good fuck. He kept at it with what seemed like all the energy in the world, fucking you against that table until you came all over him, and your legs gave out. It ended how it always did, with him moaning how fucking sexy you look and how much he hates you, and you swallowing your pride as you swallow his cum. You’d tell each other to fuck off and never bother the other again, until you meet up at the next comeback, to do this shit all over again.

And that’s how things would stay if it wasn’t for that goddamn phone call from your manager.

“...so we thought what better way to promote your new song by recording a duet with NCT’s Jaehyun?”

No, no, no this can’t be happening. No way. Anyone but him.

“Are you sure this is the only way we can promote me? Can’t I just go to variety programs like every other idol out there?”

“y/n, duets by different group members are one of the most efficient methods of promoting there is! And with NCT’s latest song topping the charts this will be a great opportunity for you. Taemin and Sunmi did it. Suzy and Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Punch-“

“Alright, okay, I get it”

“Besides, since you used to be an SM trainee they specifically asked for you. The directors made some pretty big compliments on your work”

Isn’t it a little too late now? Not like they didn’t have the chance to debut you, right? That being said, there isn’t much to oppose to decline SM’s offer; your manager is right and you know it. Saying no to Lee Sooman and giving up a popularity push like that is basically career suicide. Nor could you let your manager know about your and Jaehyun’s little adventures, minutes before you have to go on stage.

“Just send me the schedule. I don’t have to record with him, right?”

“Oh no, they’ll record his part first and then they’ll send it to us. But there will be a music video of course”

Oh for fuck’s sake.

There was this little monster of worriedness that was screaming inside your head, refusing to shut up. This collaboration isn’t going to be easy, but you didn’t want to let Jaehyun’s pettiness get in the way of your career. Fumbling with your phone in your hands, you kept removing and reinserting its case compulsively, over and over again, until you mustered the courage to take matters into your own hands.You knew his number was buried somewhere in your contacts.

you [16:35]: hey it’s me, y/n

Jung Yoonoh [16:50]: y/n who??

you [16:55]: y/n y/l/n? the girl whose guts you were inside in last week? we have a song coming up 😒

Jung Yoonoh [16:57]: oh y/n right

Jung Yoonoh [16:58]: thought you’d have deleted my number

Well you sure have deleted mine, you murmur with your blood boiling, regretting reaching out to him in the first place. 

you [16:59]: i always hoard peoples contacts

you [17:00]: old habits die hard i guess

Jung Yoonoh [17:00]: like the habit of me being inside your guts?

You gasp out after reading his last message, hands awkwardly juggling your phone until you’ve forced yourself to calm down. After waiting for a while, until your face has reached its previous temperature, you feel focused again, and type out your original intentions for this conversation.

you [17:05]: this isn’t what i texted you about.

you [17:07]: we have this project coming up and while I know we aren’t exactly on the best terms, this comeback is very important for me

you [17:08]: and i don’t want to fuck it up

Jung Yoonoh [17:10]: kitty cat, relax. maybe this is a brand new word for you but i know what professionalism is

you [17:10]: don’t you ever and i mean ever call me that again

you [17:11]: glad to see we are on the same page

You didn’t expect a message back, nor did you get one. All you could do from now on, was pray that the promotions would go smoothly and Jaehyun wouldn’t do anything stupid that would jeopardize your collaboration.

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And the day you dreaded finally came. The first day of filming for the music video. 

You had already finished recording the song, a bittersweet balad about two lovers who lost their way, only for their paths to cross again. When you listened to the demo for the first time, it only took three notes from Jaehyun’s pre-recorded verse to spread goosebumps on your skin. His voice was deeper and even more developed than you remember. Long forgotten memories, shoved deep inside your brain so as not to leave a bitter aftertaste in your mouth, came flooding up again. But things have changed since then.

The sky was crying rain and lightning, fitting to the storm inside your head. Normally you'd be excited to film a music video, bubbling with energy and unable to contain a smile. Today, all you could do was let your teeth abuse the cuticles of your left thumb, until little drops of blood ruined the fresh manicure you got for the shoot. 

Following your manager inside the studio, you take a quick glance at all the props the creative directors have prepared. They were very intricate, filled with all different types of flowers everywhere. Some of the fake rooms looked like classrooms, two others were decorated like teenage bedrooms. It was a lot more than you have anticipated.

“The song will be part of a drama OST, that’s why the budget is higher than usual”, your manager tells you as if he was reading your mind. 

He leads you to the changing room, where you try on different outfits your stylist has chosen for you, while simultaneously being briefed on the concept of the music video. It’s kinda cheesy and cute, with you and Jaehyun posing as high-school students falling in love. Certain scenes of the drama, whose plot matches the music video’s, will intercept in between.

You’re seated on the makeup chair, sunk in the uneasiness caused by your co-star. Jaehyun had arrived a few minutes after you, his bare face more handsome than you’ve ever looked in your most glamorous state and you can’t help but stare at him. He is all polite smiles and bows to the staff, and even gives you a formal greeting. 

You’re not sure why you just can’t bring yourself to stop your legs from shaking as the makeup artist patiently tries to apply a rosy blush on your cheekbones. It’s like you’re scared that everyone will see right through the both of you, somehow enter your brain and find out that you’re replaying your last encounter with Jaehyun in the music show’s waiting room in your head. As you try to read through his expression, to see if he’s nearly as nervous as you are, you defeatedly can’t decode what’s going on inside his head. Not like you ever could.

You glance at both you and Jaehyun through the mirror, admiring the youthful makeup. Blushy cheeks and innocent eyes of two teenagers in love, masking the raw lust between two nemesi. It couldn’t stray any further from the truth.

A staff member leads both you and Jaehyun (who is refusing to spare even one look your way) back to the main set. The director is passionately explaining what he wants to see from you in your first scene, but you can barely focus with Jaehyun’s eyes burning holes through your school girl outfit. You block him out and walk inside the ‘classroom’, spotting the cameras and sitting on your designated seat, while you wait for your signal to start.

Of course, you had acted before. Yes, you had expected for the director to ask you for some more intimate moments with your co-star. But when Jaehyun passed you a “love note” from the desk in front of you, looking all blushy and shy and with his dimples showing, you felt that the role of crushing schoolgirl became a little too easy for you to act out. 

And maybe, just maybe he was feeling the same way too. He looked pretty flustered when he saw you dancing across class, shifting restlessly in his seat when you bent forward to tie your shoelaces. Whether you did it on purpose or not, was a question your ego didn’t allow you to answer truthfully.

Most of the individual shots would be handled at a different shoot, so all you had to do was get over this one day with him. That’s what you repeated yourself over and over again. And you did pretty well, smiling charmingly at the camera, with the director praising you for your “innocent look”. You didn’t miss the scoff slipping from Jaehyun’s lips but you were good at ignoring it, focusing on getting through the different scenes in one-shot. 

You were currently leaning your body against the wall, playing with your hair while Jaehyun glances down at you, like a boy that is ready to confess to his first love. 

“y/n, I need you to give me something more shy, more bashful”, the director yells eagerly, but you can barely hear him, too focused on regulating your breathing. The look your co-star is giving you right now might seem loving and pure to the staff, but you know all too well the motives hidden behind his facade. It’s the calm before the storm, the silence he purposefully keeps to make you squirm, right before he whispers the most sinful propositions in your ears. 

Reading him like an open book, you stand still as he leans closer, just enough so that no one besides you get to hear his words.

“Come on y/n, can’t you act bashful? Or is it impossible for you to get embarrassed after getting fucked against the window of a TV station’s building?”

Clearing your throat, you’re suddenly hyper aware of every single sound and movement in the room. Suffocating, even in the light clothes you were wearing, and desperately trying to mute out his words that bring you back to the day he was repenting.

“When you were pressed up against that glass, moaning my name, all exposed for anyone that simply looked up to see, you weren’t too shy, were you?”

You raise your palm to wipe a bead of sweat that has collected on your temple, and breathe deeply through your nose, as if a good pump of oxygen would cool off the sudden heat between your legs. 

“Shut up Jaehyun”, you simply hiss through your front teeth, but he isn’t done yet.

“You know I can’t hold myself when I see you in skirts. So pretty. And you love to tease me in them too, I’ve noticed. Flashing me again and again until you get to suckle on my dick”

You were sure his voice was barely louder than a whisper, but the thought of anyone accidentally prying into your conversation had your whole body raising in temperature. The heat didn’t take long to reach your cheeks and you couldn’t remember the last time your legs felt like jelly, as they do now.

“Perfect y/n, that’s exactly what I’m looking for!”

You blinked back at Jaehyun a couple times, your mind trying to process that the director is cheering you on instead of scolding you to focus. The trembling hands, the fast-paced heartbeat, your big doe eyes. Though involuntarily, you had nailed the scene.

“You’re welcome”, Jaehyun mouths at you just as the staff announces a break. He scurries off to his dressing room without a word, as if he hadn’t just spewed his dirtiest of thoughts on set. It was almost as if he was daring you to follow him, but it’s not like he had left you a choice. You were fuming.

“Jaehyun”, you called out to him strictly but he didn’t acknowledge you, only walked further inside the small room with his name written neatly on the door. He was removing some of the heavier jewellery, rubbing the red lines they had left on his neck and wrist, momentarily catching your eyes on the mirror's reflection. They were misty, unreadable, and with how unpredictable you knew he could be, you decided to close the door behind you.

“Closing the door?”, he muses and in just a few long strides he has managed to trap you between his body and the wooden surface. It is reminiscent of your last meeting at the music show, and the memory of you tying him up doesn’t help with the organizing of your thoughts. “What are you planning on doing to me in here?”

You point one finger against his chest, not enough to create any real distance between you, but it comforts you nonetheless.

“What the fuck was that out there? What happened to professionalism?”

“Relax, kitty cat. I was just helping you act better”. His eyes stayed glued on your hips, once again making you all wound up and jumpy under his stare, “And it worked. You should be thanking me”

“I. Told. You.”, you started, tapping your finger on his sternum to emphasize each word, “Never call me that again. Today’s already hard as it is, why do you have to make it harder?”

He takes one more step towards you, his chest now touching yours and your hand that separated you lands involuntarily on his right peck. As if his presence wasn’t overwhelming enough, you feel a hardness pressing against your thigh, and for a moment you worry he can feel how wet you really are under your skirt. His voice is a low, a deep rumble.

“I don’t know. Why do you have to make everything so hard?”

“You are unbelievable”, you scowl at him and free yourself from his trap. You turn to the big mirror to avoid looking at him anymore, and you come to the embarrassing realization of how fucked out you look right now. You had to get out of there as soon as possible, before you do anything stupid and lose any trace of self control left in you. But not before you gave Jaehyun an earful.

“What I meant was that I am out there, being paid to be all lovey-dovey with you. This is not something easy for me you know. It’s basically prostitution.”

You catch Jaehyun’s eyes in his reflection, and for a fleeting moment they turn a colour that you hadn’t seen them in for a long time. Hurt? Disappointment? Whatever it was, it was gone in a second, replaced by that smile that made him both irresistibly smackable and fuckable at the same time.

“Did it cross your tiny brain that maybe someone could hear you? Staff leaks information all the time! If they found out we were fucking…”

“Were? Past tense?”

“Are. Will be. Whatever.” You sigh, defeated, hiding your eyes with your palms as you face him once again. “Like I said, this is important to me. So no more dirty talk on set. Okay?”

Jaehyun avoided your glance, from embarrassment or uninterest maybe. “Okay”

You continue to sit there silently, but your head is so occupied with a million thoughts that you don’t notice. How you will get through the rest of the shooting, whether your manager is looking for you or not, the coldness of the glass Jaehyun had pressed you against that day. The only thing that snapped you out of it, was him suddenly taking off his shirt.

“What are you doing?”, you ask panicking, but you can’t dismiss the pool of excitement in your belly.

“We have a wardrobe change after the break, remember? And since you refuse to leave my changing room..”

You clear your throat, trying your hardest to rip your eyes away from his abdomen, that you’ve so keenly marked with love bites before. His naked skin must have monopolized your attention way more than you realized, as you can’t remember when he slithered his way closer to you, towering over your height.

“Stare much?”, he almost growls, arousal dripping from his voice.

Every fiber of your being wanted to lurch forward, glide your fingers through his hair and start nibbling at those pretty lips of his. The sexual tension, amplified by the argument you just had, was filling the room like a thick liquid would fill a cup. One more drop, one more second of his staring and it would overflow. It felt so real, that you could feel that drop landing on your forehead. Then another one on your cheek, and that’s when you realized that what you felt was real.

“What the-?”, Jaehyun mumbles as he stares up at the ceiling, a big wet spot staining it and allowing the water drops to slowly wet his styled locks. As you start to put two and two together, someone knocks loudly on the door, making you both jump one feet away from the other.

“Get undressed”, a high-pitched male voice that you recognize as Jaehyun’s manager calls through the door, “the rain is ruining the set. It’s a wrap for today”

———————————————————————

A soft touch on your lower back, an even softer breath making your ears tingle. A tentative kiss on your neck that’s full of purpose and makes you shiver.

And then another touch, this time more south on your body. Fingertips grazing over your sensitive clit. Easily moving through your wetness and finally dipping inside of you. That baritone voice.

“This pussy is mine, isn’t it, kitty cat?”

You look up to meet the face of the familiar voice, only to meet Jaehyun’s baby brown eyes. The pleasure was enough to make you ignore the despised nickname, flowing intensely through your body. You let out a desperate moan, gripping his arms to keep your balance. His fingers are now dragging through your walls and you clench around them instinctively, confused but enamored by his touch. You are falling apart.

“Jaehyun? What are you doing?”

“I want to make love to you”

“Love? But you hate me”

He plants another kiss on the slope of your neck, his hands picking up in pace and making you feel like you’re floating on air.

“Love. Hate. Is there really any difference when I’m here, ready to please you? Willing to make you feel things you have never felt before?”

“You already do”, you admit, only seconds away from your orgasm. The bliss is so close you can almost taste it, but for now you choose to taste his lips. They are so soft and warm that you realize you haven’t kissed Jaehyun since that night at the practice room. How you miss him. Not the group visual, not the idol, not even Jaehyun. Yoonoh.

“Yoonoh”, you moan out against his lips as the pleasure overtakes you, a low buzz humming in your ears, “mmm yes, Yoonoh”

“Who the fuck is Yoonoh?”

You finally wake up, your manager shaking you awake being the first thing you see. The sun’s morning rays are peeking through your blinds, warming your skin in lines. Your phone’s ignored alarm clock is still buzzing on top of your nightstand.

“No one. I’m awake, thanks”

Fuck. That makes it what? The fourth night in a row you dreamt about him?

“Get, up. Quickly. We’re late”

You groaned at the banging of your head that was caused by you getting up so fast. It was early into the morning, as you had to get ready for the mv’s second shooting day. The heavy rainfall wouldn’t allow for the filming to continue for another week, yet aided your growing anxiety of having to encounter Yoon- Jaehyun again. 

You felt a little stupid, like a kid that goes to middle school for the first time, anxious but full of butterflies in your stomach in the thought of seeing him again. You weren’t sure who the anger, that came with the inability to control the fresh feelings bubbling from your dream, should be directed at. Your manager for booking you this job? Jaehyun for making it his goal to have you dripping wet on set? You, for letting it all affect you so much?

You decide on the former, giving your poor manager the cold shower for forcing you to deal with the problems you’ve caused yourself. Checking your phone, you realise that you are, indeed, late, and wonder how quick you’re going to have to make your morning shower.

“Is Jaehyun and his team there already?”, you ask your manager as nonchalantly as you could, feigning mildly interested in his answer.

“Oh, they didn’t tell you? The other team asked for the shootings to continue separately”. You felt your stomach drop all the way down to your condo’s basement. And the icing on the cake: “Jung Jaehyun’s request”

Maybe your manager wasn’t as clueless to your electricity, or maybe it was your sudden impulse to pluck every loose thread of the pyjama top you were wearing that made him sense the discomfort following what he’d just said. He plops next to you on your bed, boards creaking in the silent room and you feel his rough hands patting you on the back.

“I’m sure he had an overlap in schedules and needed a break, nothing to do with you”

But you knew better, and you knew your palms wouldn’t stop itching unless you picked up your fucking phone and sent him a message. 

you [06:30]: i heard you can’t make it to set today. everything ok?

You wish you never did. The radio silence from his number was way worse than any insult, any form of teasing he could give you on set. You even tried calling him, desperate for an answer, a closure even. Maybe he was busy. Maybe the shooting took longer than expected. Maybe he wasn’t avoiding you; one of his managers uploaded his latest story on his instagram, not him. Maybe at the end of the week he would get back to you.

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

Going to his dorm unannounced was not a good idea. Waiting for someone to open the door for you, you hope his members will recognise you from your trainee days, or those rare nights Jaehyun sneaked you in when you were both lonely and in need of a… well, whatever you two were.

You’re starting to worry that whoever saw you from the peephole thought you were a sasaeng and called security, when Mark opens the door. His eyes are wide open behind his glasses, clearly not expecting you and immediately yelling for his ‘Jaehyun hyung’.

Soon, the called male arrives at the apartment’s entrance, annoyed for being interrupted from whatever it was he was doing. “What is it, me and Jungwoo are watching the season fina-“

As if Mark suddenly turned invisible, Jaehyun walks right past him, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to his room without another word.

Jungwoo, engrossed with the aforementioned show’s season finale on his computer screen, tries to cover up his naked torso in panic when he notices you. 

“Get out.”, Jaehyun orders him, and the younger man knows that his tone is not one to be argued with. It triggers the cold sweat that makes your clothes stick closer to your skin and forces your heartbeat to quicken, pumping blood all over your body. The door closes, leaving you both alone with only the sound of Jungwoo’s laptop still playing in the background. A lighthearted scene that is too oxymoronic against the tension that is just palpable at this point. What the hell were you thinking coming here?

“What the hell were you thinking coming here?”, Jaehyun speaks your thoughts out loud, and you wince at how empty your head is with excuses.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“What?”, he asks dumbly, hoping you would avoid asking again.

“Was it that hard to text me back? Am I such a waste of your time?”

Jaehyun seems angry at your confrontation, his bad mood escalating with every word that is leaving your mouth. He still avoids to look at you, toying with some plushies and decorations next to his bedpost. You realize you never had time to really notice them, barely recognizing them. You always entered the room blindly, pressed up against Jaehyun’s body and with his lips all over your neck, then left as soon as the sex was over. His apathy was infuriating.

One by one, you start to remove all of your outerwear, dropping your clothes on the floor until you’re left in only your bra and jeans. Jaehyun stares at you incredulously, then at the pile of clothes on the floor, unable to make out the reasoning behind your impromptu stripping.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting naked. Seems to be the only time you can actually pay attention to me.”

You reach for the buttons of your jeans, only able to unzip it halfway before Jaehyun has you pinned against the wall behind you, his fingers cool and pressing lightly against your neck.

“I-I fucking hate you!”, he cries, punching the surface to release some of the steam, and lets go of the hold on your neck almost completely. How tempted he is, to just fuck your right against that wall, pour out his anger by pouring out his cum inside you, then ignore each other like you always do.

It’s the easy thing to do, keeping the toxic circle going. All barking and fucking and no real problem gets resolved in the end. He wouldn’t even call a cab for you, preferring to be hated for something he wasn’t than to be rejected for showing the real him. You would still have no idea about his feelings towards you, going around saying how awful he was while asking for a round two. But Jaehyun was tired.

“Can’t you tell that I am trying to distance myself from you?”, he sighs and it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sound so emotionally exhausted.

“Why do you dislike me so much? We used to be friends and then one day you-“

“Friends? Just friends?”, he interrupts you with a chuckle and a sarcastic puff through his nose, and you shake your head.

“If you also think that what we had was more special than a common friendship then why act like you don’t know me?”

“You were the one who wanted to ‘forget about anything happening and never telling a soul about it’, remember?”

“I thought we came to a mutual agreement! I was just trying to save our careers and it worked Jaehyun, you got to debut and I-“

“And you just threw away everything we had like it was the easiest thing to do! Do you ever want to know how I feel, y/n? First you want nothing to do with me, left the company without even saying goodbye. Then I try to forget about you, become an asshole to keep you out of my life and suddenly you want to jump my bones. One day you just play blind to everything, asking for professionalism and now I’m the one ignoring you? What the fuck do you want? A fuck buddy? A professional? A friend?”

“I want you, Yoonoh. Fuck, I just want you”

You’re not sure which one of you initiates the kiss. His lips are as plump and kissed as hard as you recalled, a couple of tears staining your cheeks that you didn’t realize you were holding back. It felt so right, the way his head pushed and pulled away from yours, always inviting you back to him. One hand was situated over the dimples of your waist, the other lost between your hair, untangling it gently. You decided to lay yours over his heart, feeling its tempo and calming yourself down.

You kiss for what seems like an eternity, so drunk in bliss that you can’t remember how you made it through life without Jaehyun’s taste all over your tongue. When he pulls away from your lips, you almost whine, but his fingertips dabbing at the soft skin of your cheeks feel just as comforting.

“I don’t want us to be like this anymore”, you whisper to him and he nods encouragingly, holding you even closer. “I’m sorry for not reaching out to you all these years ago, I just thought ‘What would a brand new idol want to do with a failed trainee like me’-“

Jaehyun brings your fingers to his lips, kissing all your knuckles one by one and you think you’re gonna burst at the seams. “You weren’t a failure, you were the best thing to happen to me back then”. His voice is so sincere that you don’t dare question the veracity of what he’s saying and you let him continue. “When I saw you again I was so bitter, I decided to turn off my feelings. I think I get too comfortable in that role. I put it on for me, my members, my fans even”, he stops then, laughing sadly, “it’s how I finally got you”

It was your turn to open up his eyes to the truth, holding his face between your hands and admiring its beauty. 

“That’s not true. I kept staying because I knew what was hidden behind all that armor. I guess, the sex was the only way to get closer to you”

“Not because I’m good?”, he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows and you can feel his dimples forming under your fingers.

“Eh, you’re pretty good too”

He starts pecking your neck, his smile obvious in his kisses and you squeal when he lifts you to his bed. Bouncing on the hard mattress, you let him lay his body weight over yours as he gives you a million traces of his love. 

“So, I’m guessing this means we start over?”, he asks reluctantly as he emerges from your half naked body and you hold back from cooing at him.

“I thought you loved to hate me?”

“I think I hate it, but I love you”

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part I

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.7k Warnings: dubious consent (because of alcohol), just copious amounts of sex, oral, squirting, 69ing, college shenanigans, obnoxious frat boys, terrible fashion choices A/N: At long last, here we have the beginning. Massive thanks to @pleasantanathema and @whats-her-quirk​ who have been cheering for me since I told them I wanted to right a “little college AU” for a “little collab” June and I have been planning for a while. Also, I don’t know where I’d be without Lauren’s fraternity knowledge, so extra thanks for that, babe. I hope everyone has as much fun with this fic as I did.

God, you hate frat boys. 

Their sense of entitlement, all their fucking house pride. Brother this, brother that. It's annoying. Add in the factors of being an athlete on top of it, and they're downright insufferable. 

So it makes absolutely no sense that you're at a fucking Pi Kappa Alpha party. 

Your friend, Hitch, dragged you here (naturally), and it wasn't like you could really object considering she's the only real friend you have on campus. You study together and switch off between dorms to watch movies and bitch about classes. She's the complete opposite of you in many different ways, but you soul-bonded over biology and that was that. 

Unfortunately, Hitch decided she would leave you to your own devices almost immediately, opting to skip over to a game of beer pong and flirt with a boy in her statistics class. You have no idea why considering he has a fucking bowl cut, but she's been talking about him for weeks now. 

The party is filled with loud music and too many people with red solo cups. There's no way they're all of age, so you're already paranoid that the cops are gonna raid the place, but there's nothing you can do besides leave. It's a tempting thought. 

Before you can, though, there's an uproar in the kitchen, and curiosity gets the best of you. Moving from your place against the wall, you make your way over to peek in and see what's going on. A large group of frat boys, what you think are sorority girls, and whoever else wants to join are raising their cups to cheer. An especially loud voice rings out above the rest, "One win down, eleven more to go!" 

Claps and supportive shouts are nearly deafening. 

"I think we can do it! Do you think we can do it?" 

More cheers, more hollers. 

"Let's hear it for UC lacrosse!" 

You have to cover your ears this time. Should have known this party was to celebrate the win earlier that day. 

When the crowd parts, you see the ringleader, Erwin Smith who is very well-known on campus for three reasons: he will talk your ear off about history if given the chance, he's irritatingly gorgeous, and he will fuck any pretty girl with a pulse. 

Again—you fucking hate frat boys. 

To ease your bad mood and possibly encourage you to have some semblance of a good time, you shuffle further into the kitchen to grab a drink. You feel a little exposed, not dressed like many of the other girls who are either in rompers or the classic sorority chick outfit (giant college shirts that cover their shorts). You are in a crop top, torn shorts, and a floral cardigan. Not your best outfit, not your worst. 

There's no way you're touching any of the pre-poured cups or the jungle juice, opting for an unopened can of mediocre beer. 

You feel someone approach you from behind, glance over your shoulder to see nothing but a broad chest covered by a fucking hawaiian shirt. 

Craning your neck, you're met with another familiar face, one Mike Zacharias known as 1) Erwin's best friend, 2) one of the tallest guys on campus, and 3) the best lacrosse player on the team. 

You haven't spoken a single word to him but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, and chanting a low, "Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun!" 

"Are you god damn joking me?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

"Hell no!" 

"I have shotgunned a beer literally once in my life, and at least half of it ended up on my shirt."

"That's alright," Mike's smile shrinks to a smirk. "We're all about getting chicks wet in Pike." 

Face falling, you scoff, "Yeah, okay, I'm leaving." 

You sidestep him, cracking open the beer, but he follows close behind you. It makes a little bit of fear spike in your gut—everyone knows the horror stories that accompany many fraternities—but you're mostly just annoyed. 

"Hey, what's your name again?"

Again. As if you've actually formally met before.

"Why do you care?" 

Mike does not hesitate when he answers, "'Cause you look like you're having a shit time here, and I'd like to change that."

You roll your eyes, let your head loll over your shoulder to look at him again. If you're being honest with yourself, he's kind of extremely hot with his undercut and flippy hair, not to mention the stubble that's grown out just enough to make you think thoughts for a split second.  

"A noble cause," you quip. "Truly." 

He chuckles, watching too closely as you take a sip of your beer. 

"So? Name?"

After too big of a swallow, you answer him, and light green eyes brighten a little. 

"Oh, you're Hitch's friend, right?" 

Of course that would be your only identifier on campus. Hitch is insanely pretty and very outgoing. It makes sense that people just know you as her tag-along. 

It doesn't stop you from feeling slightly offended, though. 

"Yeah, and you're Erwin's friend, right?" 

"Among other things," he snorts. "Mike Zacharias." He holds out a massive hand that you eye before taking, figure you shouldn't be too much of a bitch and make a bad impression on the most highly regarded frat at the college.  

"I know who you are, dude. Not many people don't."

"Aw, flatterer." 

That grin is back on his face, lopsided and far too charming, and you definitely need to get away from him before you down a couple more beers. 

"Freshman?" He pries, and somehow you wind up at the staircase, leaning against the wall and praying he'll just stand beside you instead of caging you in. 

He does, and you let out a breath of relief. 

"Sophomore."

His eyebrows shoot up for a second. "Fuck, you've made it through a whole year flying under my radar?" 

You give him a wholly unimpressed look. "Wow, you really know what to say to a girl, don't you?" 

"That came off as shitty, sorry. I just mean, like, you're super cute. Feel like I would have committed you to memory if I'd seen you."

Your face heats up probably more than it ever has in your life, but you still snap, "We haven't had a single class together, I never go to your games, and this is the first Pike party I've been to."

Mike nods. "Ah, that explains it. Just haven't given anyone a chance to notice you." 

"Sure, let's go with that."

Another several sips. You hiss at the taste, and Mike laughs. 

"Can't handle beer?"

"Can't handle shitty beer."

"Ouch. Want me to grab you something else?"

He really doesn't seem to understand the warnings all girls have heard over the years. That, or he just doesn't care. You don't know him well enough to pass that kind of judgement.

"Uh, no. I always make my own drinks at parties."

"That's understandable." Except it isn't. He doesn't have a clue. 

"Well, you can go grab one, and I'll just finish this one for you. Don't want it to go to waste."

It's your turn to smirk now. "That desperate to swap spit, Zacharias?" 

"Like this?" He laughs through his nose. "Nah. But I can think of other ways."

"We've been talking for literally two minutes."

"I'm perfectly capable of making decisions in two minutes."

"Not any good ones obviously."

Tilting his head, Mike thinks out loud, "Can't tell if that's an insult aimed at me or yourself." 

"Take it however you want. I don't really care."

His eyes glint with amusement. There's no way you're escaping this any time soon. 

Long, thick fingers close around the top of your can, and he gently tugs it out of your hand then keeps those eyes locked with yours as he takes a sip. 

"Gross." You try to keep the teasing tone from your voice. 

"Just go get another drink."

You actually listen, mostly to get away from him but also because you could go for something easier to stomach. 

A game of King's Cup is going on in the kitchen, a five obviously being drawn because everyone suddenly pantomimes holding a steering wheel. It's surprisingly fun to watch, so you post up next to the counter after mixing orange and pineapple juice with rum. 

"Four's whores!"

"Categories! Different beers!"

"Seven heaven!" 

"Ayyy, waterfall!" 

You shake your head as everyone drinks for way too long. Some people are already swaying in circles where they're sitting. Others are simply red-faced. 

"Wanna play?"

"Jesus! You came outta nowhere."

Mike looks too smug for your liking, but doesn't say anything, just crushes the empty can in his hand and throws it into the trashcan next to the back door, all gooseneck and perfect arch. 

"Let me guess—you're reigning champ at beer pong."

"Nah," he waves you off. "That's Erwin and Nile. King's Cup however…"

"King's Cup isn't even a competition. It's just flipping cards and getting fucked up." 

"Well, yeah, but it's still fun."

You let out a heavy sigh, eyes still trained on the game going on, then concede, "Once this one is over, I'll play. Just to get you off my back." And because he won't have the chance to talk to you for the duration of the game. 

"Excellent."

You manage to finish your drink by the time the round ends, have to rush to make another as Mike strides over to the table and steals the two seats that have been vacated. They're right across from each other. You don't know if you'd prefer that or just sitting next to him so he can't stare at you.

Sauntering over, you plop down and place your drink in front of you. The guy to your right is quick to introduce himself with hooded eyes and a self-assured smile. You give him basically the same treatment that you've been giving Mike, making him pout and turn away as a freckled girl deals out the cards. 

It's fast paced, and you find yourself drinking more than you'd planned. Mike picks you as his buddy (of course), and the guy next to you makes everyone drink for nearly thirty seconds straight when he pulls an ace. 

Still, you find yourself laughing as people scream and curse. You catch eyes with Mike often, and as you finish your second drink, he begins looking very attractive. More attractive than before. So attractive that you allow him to pour your third cup. 

"If you roofied this, I'm gonna be real upset with you," you tell him just before taking a sip. He added more rum than you did, but that doesn't surprise you. 

"Hey, one of Pike's virtues is being a gentleman."

As soon as he says it, about seven people around the table shout, "Pi Kappa Alpha!" like some kind of sports team, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 

You're drunk after this game. And, then you make another drink and get plastered. Meandering around the rest of the party, bodies begin to blur together, the music fades in and out, and you barely know what you're saying to Mike anymore as he follows you close behind in the same state. For every drink you've had, he's had two, and now he's walking around with a cup full of jungle juice nodding at his brothers, smiling at all the girls who look at him.

His room is downstairs unlike most of the others, right at the end of the hallway. It makes it far too easy to end up inside, but as soon as the door closes and his huge hands find your hips, your world disappears entirely. 

*

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a nauseating pounding in your head. The second is a very large body behind you. 

God dammit, you think, trying to recall the events of the night before. 

Pi Kappa Alpha. Hitch left you, so you hung out with… Mike Zacharias? From the lacrosse team? 

Frowning, you try to look over your shoulder, but all you can really see is a head of hair. However, you can feel the coarseness of his beard against your bare shoulder, and that's enough to solidify that it is indeed Mike behind you. 

Shifting some brings more of your physical state to your attention—your naked chest under the blanket, the way your legs are pressed together, your pussy between your thighs… swollen? Jesus, what did he do to you last night? You can also feel something dry and crusty on your stomach which is both disgusting and relieving. At least he had enough sense to pull out. 

Luckily, his arm isn't wrapped around you which makes it much easier to sit up on your elbow. It takes you a while to locate your clothes around the room from where you are, and even then, all you can find are your shorts, shoes, and bra. You peer around, trying not to groan at the headache threatening to make you black the fuck out all over again, but that pounding as well as the nauseating churning of your stomach is making it difficult. 

You slide out of the bed, basically crawling to the little pile of discarded clothes. As you fumble with fastening your bra, you glance around one more time in search of your shirt and cardigan, but it’s no use. What you do see, however, is the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt  Mike had been wearing the night before, and well… You’d rather not leave the Pike house topless, so…

Snatching it off the floor, you slip your arms through the giant sleeves and somehow manage to button up about half of it. Then, you’re flying out the door, desperate to be in your own dorm, curled over your own toilet, in your own clothes. 

Oh, thank god his room wasn’t upstairs, you praise, trying to remember the way to the front door. There are numerous bodies and tipped over cups to navigate through, and you cringe at the various odors that assault your senses. 

You see the door from across the room, so close and getting closer as you try not to trip over anything, but as you pass the kitchen, you hear a smooth, familiar voice greet, “Good morning,” in a smug way. 

Erwin is leaning against a counter, smirking over a steaming cup of coffee. He’s wearing only sweatpants, his hair is a little mussed, and for a split second, you understand why he pulls so many girls. 

Still, you roll your eyes and continue moving—a classic DNE situation, but the frat boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead calling out, “Nice shirt!”

“Fuck off, Smith,” is the only thing you utter before leaving, slamming the door behind you. 

*

Mike easily catches the frisbee that spins directly at his face then quickly throws it back to try and catch Nile off guard. It works, and the brunet curses and has to go running after the flying disc. 

A few girls watching from the nearby fountain clap and yell his name, wriggling fingers in a wave as if he can actually see that far away. Mike gives one wave of his own hand then turns back to the grass where Nile is jogging back to his place.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole!” He spits.

Mike shrugs his shoulders, yells back, “Get better at frisbee, and you won’t have this problem!”

Nile throws the plastic so hard that it flies off toward the fountain, making all those girls scream and dive for cover. 

“Yeah, I’m not getting that,” Mike shakes his head. Nile drags his fingers down his angular face before setting off on yet another trek, apologizing profusely then standing around to flirt like usual.

Blowing hair out of his face, Mike considers joining his brother, but before he can, he sees a familiar figure turning on the sidewalk, about to pass the fountain and head toward Hartley Hall. 

His feet are moving before he really registers it, glad his long legs can carry him quickly even at a walk. Mike calls out when he’s a couple yards away, and you turn to him, eyes growing wide before you start to move faster. 

He can just barely make out the words, “Nope. Not doing this,” and chuckles, catching up the rest of the way.

“Hey, chill, I just wanna talk.”

You turn to look at him, head tilted up, squinting against the sun, and Mike has never been more thankful for his height because you look so god damn cute all small and irritated with him. 

“What is there to talk about? I don’t even remember anything.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, lacing fingers together behind his head. “Shame.”

“Whatever.”

Mike tries and fails to hide a snort, nods at Nile as you both pass him and the gaggle of girls surrounding him. Mike has no doubt his friend will get at least one phone number out of it, if not all of them. 

“Did you at least have a good time before you blacked out?” He ventures.

You shrug your shoulders, hitch your backpack up a little higher. “Maybe. But, if I was just around you the whole time, probably not.”

“Aw, come on! What did I ever do to you?”

“You need a list?”

Mike nods. “Would probably help.”

“For brevity's sake, I’ll just say that you started the night trying to get a literal stranger to shotgun a beer and ended the night fucking said stranger and… Not holding back, apparently.” Mike frowns, about to ask what you mean by that, but you elaborate before he can. Voice dropping, you question, “Do you have any idea how fucking sore I’ve been for the last few days? What the fuck do you even have hidden in those stupid shorts?”

“I’d be happy to show you again.” He grins sideways, and when you shoot him a venomous look, he figures it’s time to change the subject. “Anyway, I may have done that and more, but you’re the thief.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike tries to sound nonchalant as he accuses, “Stole my shirt and everything." Honestly, he's a little upset that he didn’t actually get to see you wearing it. 

“I—”

“That’s my favorite shirt, you know?”

You laugh. Finally. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“That shirt is fucking heinous, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t burn it.”

“Does that mean I can have it back?”

You make a little noise in your throat, something between a grumble and a growl, but you check your phone and tell him, “Fine. My next class isn’t for another couple of hours, so just…Follow me.”

It takes immense effort to not skip to your dorm like a little kid, but Mike is excited. He’s not gonna try anything weird, but just seeing your space? He’ll be able to get a better feel for you. So far, all he knows is that you live and breathe sarcasm and can’t handle your liquor well. It’s enough to get him a little more than interested, but it’s not enough to go off of.

The two of you gain a few looks as you make your way through the shared study space of the dormitory, heads turning, eyebrows raising in recognition. No one should be all that surprised; it’s not like Mike and Erwin haven’t frequented a lot of these rooms. 

You lead him down a hallway, and Mike looks at all the little dry-erase intro boards hanging outside of every door. He’s a little surprised to see that the one by yours isn’t blank. Your name is written in bubble letters, surrounded by little hearts, and when you catch him looking at it, you’re quick to tell him, “Hitch.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He follows you inside, staying by the door to not invade too much of your space, but he doesn’t even try to be subtle as he looks around the small room. Pennant for the college hung up over a cork bulletin board that’s a mess of photos and sticky notes. Cluttered desk with just enough of it cleared to fit a laptop. Tiny succulents on the window sill. Double bed covered in a quilt. And there, in the open closet, Mike catches sight of his shirt—pastel pink and littered with palm trees. 

After dropping your backpack on your bed, you step over to the hanging clothes and grab it, muttering, “Ridiculous,” as you hand it over.

Mike laughs as he slings it over his shoulder. “You know what’ll make you hate it even more?” You quirk an eyebrow, probably doubting that anything could, but your entire face falls when he informs you, “I have matching shorts to go with it.”

“No you do not.”

“Definitely do.”

“That should be a crime. You should be arrested.”

He chuckles, has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but something catches his eye—a bookshelf tucked away in the corner by your bed overflowing with novels and knick-knacks. Mike sees a particularly thick paperback, recognizing the black background and small desert picture on the spine.

“Bro!” He walks over, plants a hand in the middle of your mattress, and reaches for it. “Is this fucking Dune?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“This is, like, my favorite book, dude.”

“Seriously?” You sound just as disbelieving as you do disinterested. 

Mike begins flipping through it, scanning over highlighted passages as he nods. “I have the whole series back home, but I only brought this one and Messiah with me to college.”

He straightens up but keeps a knee on the edge of the bed, and you plop down to sit on it, watching him closely as he continues to look over the notes scribbled in the margins. 

“I had to read it in high school," you tell him. "Then my cousin gave me a lot of the books after I talked with him about it one time. I haven’t gotten around to reading them, though.”

“You really should,” Mike urges. “I mean, I know you probably have a shit ton of reading for classes, but if you ever get the chance, you should at least read the next two.”

“You some kind of closet nerd, Zacharias?”

“Kinda,” he admits, putting the book back on the shelf only to grab a worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring. “I mean, Erwin and a few others are well aware, but I don’t really broadcast it.”

“Not good for the cool guy image?” 

“Nah, people are just more interested in other things,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the tiny print.

“Mike Zacharias,” his gaze flicks to you as you laugh quietly. “Lacrosse god and big fucking geek.”

He closes the book and uses it to lightly hit you on the top of the head with it. You half-heartedly smack him right in his abs only to push against the muscle harder and ask, “Jesus Christ, what do you have under there?”

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked what I have under my clothes,” he points out, a little too satisfied. “Better watch out, or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”

You huff, but your hand is definitely still on his stomach, unmoving but warm through his shirt. Mike told himself he wouldn’t do anything weird once he got here, but you’re already on the bed and touching him, and he’d kind of really like to have this particular experience while sober, so he very slowly takes your wrist and moves it away. 

It makes you look up at him, a question dancing in your eyes as your lips part. Mike makes sure his own stare conveys everything he’s thinking, wishes he could just transplant his thoughts into your brain so that he can put you a little more at ease around him. 

You’re onto him, though, tugging your hand from his grip and blinking a few times. He figures you’re about to point to the door and tell him to take his fucking Hawaiian shirt and leave. 

Instead, you pull on the fabric covering his ribs so that he loses his balance and has to catch himself before crashing into you. It puts his face level with yours, and you take the opportunity to kiss him—hard, desperate, and a little confused judging by the way you’re frowning. 

Mike grunts, holding himself up with the arm on the side of your hips then uses the other to slide under the thigh closest to him and pull you further onto the bed. He’s straddling you in no time, up on his knees so that he doesn’t crush you. 

Hearing the sound of shoes hitting the ground, he tugs his shirt off over his head, and then he’s curling over you again. Your mouths grow slick with spit. He slides his tongue past your lips, and you arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Mike pushes you back down so that he can strip you down to your bra and panties then takes the time to rid himself of his shoes and shorts.

“Oh, fuck,” he hears you breathe, and when he glances up at you, he finds you staring at what he knows is an intimidatingly large bulge under his boxer briefs. “It makes sense now—the soreness.”

Mike chuckles, slots his forearms on either side of your head and mutters, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

You lick his lips and he bites yours, bodies clashing together as he grinds himself against your covered pussy. Eventually Mike is able to snake a hand down your body, making sure to brush over your ribs so that you squirm beneath him. Fuck, he already loves the way you squirm. And, when he moves your panties to the side and teases your little hole, already wet just from making out, Mike discovers that he loves the way you moan too. 

He’s slow as he pushes a finger in, groaning when you clench around it. Pumping it in and out, he gently works you open and wonders if he was courteous enough to do this the other night. He hopes he was. 

You spread your legs for him, start bucking into his hand, especially when he hits that special spot inside you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fu—” You grab his face, bringing it close to yours again so that you can muffle curses against his lips. 

When Mike adds a second finger, your jaw drops, and you start to tremble. 

“Too much?” He asks.

You shake your head, stutter a breathy, “N-no. Just—ah—slow. Go slow.”

He moves to suck on your neck, promising, “I will.”

Mike waits until you’re dripping into his palm and spread about as widely as you can be underneath him. Then, and only then does he shimmy out of his underwear and question, “Condom?”

“Bookshelf,” you huff. “In the jewelry box.”

When he opens it, a little ballerina spins, and Mike has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That’s twisted.”

“Shut up.”

He grabs one of the gold packages and tears it open, then rolls the latex over his cock and discards the wrapper somewhere. 

Mike only gives you his tip first, sits right inside your entrance so that you can squeeze him and get used to the feeling before he pushes in any more. You barely shift your hips back and forth, like an experiment. It’s just enough for Mike to see slick coating the end of the condom, and he nearly starts drooling.

He presses in a little more, appreciates the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, then adds one more inch.

“Jesus Christ.” Your breaths are coming in short gasps, words slurring together. He’s not even halfway in, and you’re already fucked out. 

Your cunt is spasming around him, and Mike tries to get you to relax more by lightly rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb. 

You leak around him, pussy slowly but surely opening up a little more so that he can slide in further. He gives a few shallow thrusts that make you whine, then reaches up to grab one of your pillows which only sends him deeper. 

“God dam—”

Mike lifts you and shoves the pillow under your hips, smiles in a way he’s pretty sure you hate, then jokes, “Better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“In...sufferable…” The annoyed tone is lost when you cry out. Mike buries himself as far as he can without hurting you. He isn’t quite balls deep, but you feel so fucking good that he doesn’t even mind. 

Starting a steady rhythm that has every upthrust dragging over your g-spot, Mike watches through foggy eyes as your mouth opens and closes, chest rising with stuttering breaths before you exhale and moan. He dips his thumb between your folds to gather a little bit of slick and return it to your clit. The circular motion makes you arch again, and Mike abandons the little bud for just a moment so that he can unclasp your bra and pull it off. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts almost does him in, but he holds back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.

You’re just clamping around him so perfectly, pussy drooling and creaming on his cock, and Mike is not a quickshot, but for you—

He pulls out all at once, flips you so that you’re on hands and knees, then spreads you open to lick into you from behind. 

“Holy—” 

Mike’s cock is throbbing where it bobs against his stomach, but he can ignore it for the most part, focused on eating you out, sucking at your messy lips then dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole. He moves his face back and forth, wants to leave his mark on you in the form of stubble burn between your legs. 

“Mike, Mike, fuck, please.”

He’s positive you can’t actually hear him when he teases, “Please what?” right into the crevice of your ass. 

You growl, push against him, and swallow enough pride to beg, “Please fuck me.”

Biting his lip, Mike straightens up enough to watch his fingers disappear into your pussy. One, two, then a third that makes your messy entrance stretch for him. He lowers his face again, feather light licks around your sensitive hole, and when he twists his wrist so that he can tap on your spot, you come immediately. 

A mixture of slick and squirt drips from your cunt and soaks into your quilt. Mike pushes more out as he continues to finger fuck you, humming at the way your arms give out and you fall against the mattress. 

This is the perfect position for him. He replaces his wet fingers with his cock and ruts into you quickly, chasing after his own impending orgasm. Pretty little whimpers fall from your lips, fuck drunk as you babble, “Oh, god, Mike, Mike, fuck…”

He’s gripping your hips too tightly, pulling you back against him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally comes with a shudder and a low groan. 

Mike pants for a few seconds, then leans down to press a few kisses to your spine, but instead of the usual happy sighs he gets from most girls, you just roll your shoulders and mutter, “Stop that.”

He does, then pulls out, takes a second to stare at your pussy—worked open from his size and still dripping. It would make a very pretty picture, but Mike wouldn’t dare try that with you. 

You roll onto your back, a huff of air leaving your lungs as you scrub a hand over your face then tilt your head to him. It looks like you have something to say, but you just chew on your bottom lip, eyes moving from Mike to the door.

And, he can take a hint. You don’t have to say it. 

With a self-deprecating snort, he pulls the condom off, tying it then tossing it into the trashcan by your bed. 

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “Let me just…” Mike tugs his clothes back on, kindly tosses you your top so that you can cover yourself like you obviously want to. 

He makes sure to grab the Hawaiian shirt that brought him here in the first place, tossing it over his shoulder then striding to the door. 

Chancing one more glance at you, you force a smile and try to pad his bruised ego. “Don’t worry, it was good. You were good. It’s just not gonna happen again.”

Mike fights a smirk, raises a hand in a wave, then steps out.

Not gonna happen again, he chuckles to himself. Yeah, right.

*

You don't understand how this keeps happening, how you keep ending up in bed with Mike fucking Zacharias. 

This time you had gone to the disgusting bar right off campus, got one whole drink in your system before the familiar trio walked in. They were all in khakis and pastels—Erwin in blue, Nile in yellow, Mike in pink. Again. 

You actually slammed your head down on the bartop because despite how basic he looked in his light polo, Mike was still hot. 

Is still hot. 

Back at the Pi Kappa Alpha house, you're a mess of limbs on his bed. You take immense pleasure in tugging his shirt off, and once his arms are free again, he's lifting the hem of your little skirt and mouthing over your thong. 

You're more than tipsy after a couple more drinks but nowhere near as drunk as you were the first night. It hadn't taken much convincing from Erwin for you and Hitch to play pool with them, and when Mike had come up behind you to help you line up your shot, you knew you were a goner. 

While he's busy between your legs, you take off your shirt and bra. Green eyes flick up as soon as you toss both articles on to the floor, and without any hesitation, Mike reaches up to grope your tits. 

He's clumsy and distracted as he tongues over the warmth pooling in your underwear, squeezing plump flesh and pinching your nipple so that you whine and push your hips further into his face. 

Mike groans, just as drunk if not more so. He's messy as he kisses your thighs, nearly rips your thong when he pulls it off of you. 

His tongue feels good, too fucking good as he laves over your entrance, soothing an ache that isn't quite there anymore but definitely was a few days ago. 

"Taste so fucking good," he grumbles, slurping and sucking and making you squeeze your thighs around his head. 

"Okay," you pant. "Okay, okay." You grab him by the hair and lift his head from you, stomach flipping at the sight of the bottom half of his face absolutely covered in slick. 

God dammit, why is he so sexy? 

Your mouth waters, and the thought of possibly giving him head this time crosses your mind. You're just inebriated enough to stay relaxed, didn't drink to the point of throwing up, and he has gone down on you the last two times so... 

Lizard brain taking over, you sit up, tell him to flip over, then start making your way down his body. 

Mike grabs you before you can turn to face him, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling you down to sit on his face. 

"Fucking—I'm trying to blow you, for Christ's sake."

He moves his head just enough to tell you, "So? You can do that while I do this."

And, he's not wrong. It just means that you're gonna get distracted. 

For a while, all you can really do is control your breathing and undulate on top of him, but eventually you fall to your elbows and lick up his shaft from base to tip. 

Mike really does have a nice cock—a beautiful cock—bigger than you've ever taken in terms of both length and girth, and veiny in the perfect way. Even his balls make your pussy throb, large and round, the right just slightly bigger than the left and now dripping with saliva as you lower your mouth further and further onto his cock. 

The feeling of his tongue buried in your cunt is making you delirious, eyes rolling, muscles going slack as you gurgle around the tip hitting the back of your throat. 

Mike groans into you, his legs starting to shake, and you assume in your half aware state that he's trying to not just skull fuck you into oblivion. 

You know you're making a mess, both on his face and on his cock. The fingertips that have been holding you open shift, one of them slipping into your clenching hole, and your hips begin to move on their own volition, riding what he'll give you while moving your tongue back and forth. 

You've only taken about half of him, doubt you can take any more. He's hot and heavy in your mouth, and when you pull off to breathe, you can taste pre cum on the back of your tongue. 

It triggers something in you, makes you raise up and clumsily turn around so that you can work him inside of you. 

Mike groans a long, "Fuuuck," and immediately starts thrusting upward. 

You're lucky you're as wet as you are, but the burn that comes with getting so stretched out still makes you hiss. You brace yourself on his broad chest, feeling the dampness of sweat forming a sheen on him, and your own body starts to feel too hot. 

You had wanted to ride him to feel in control of the situation for once, but you quickly realize it's not gonna happen, Mike gripping your hips and moving you how he sees fit. 

He's raw this time, a thought that should scare you, but he feels so good even through the discomfort. Every vein and ridge hits all the sweet spots inside of you, the flared head of his cock smooth as it presses just where you need it to. 

You're squirting again—he just seems to be able to fuck it out of you. It's not the high you're looking for, but the release in pressure still feels divine. 

Mike seems to enjoy it too because he looks down at where you're connected, swears at the way you gush on his cock, then starts swiping fingers over your clit so quickly it almost hurts. 

More fluid leaks from you, and Mike breathes a low, "Come on, baby, come on, 'm gonna fuck you dry tonight." 

Hearing him talk like that—his hand rubbing over your overstimulated clit, his thick cock threatening to split you in two—causes heat to travel up your legs and down your arms until it settles in your stomach and floods you. 

You cry out, stars and tears behind your eyes as Mike keeps going, taking everything he can from you until he's laying in a huge wet spot in his bed. 

He lifts you just in time to shoot cum upward on your chest, white splattering then dripping down in strands to pool on his stomach. 

You stare down at him, mouth hanging open and find him looking up at you with the same expression. 

It's hands down the best sex you've ever had, but you're not about to tell him that. Instead, you dismount him like the fucking horse he is and stand on weak legs, actually have to lean on the bed for support. 

"Just stay the night." His voice is deep and full of gravel. It's entirely too hot. 

"Absolutely not." You shake your head, grab your shirt and his boxers then ask, "Where's the nearest bathroom?" 

"Down the hall on the right, but you don't have to sneak out the window or anything. Just use the front door if you're tryin’ to run away."

You can't help but snort. Stupid. "I'm not trying to escape, dummy. I just need to pee." 

"Oh. Right."

You slip out of the room, hoping it's late enough for everyone to be asleep, but you have no such luck as the door to the bathroom opens and fucking Erwin steps out. 

He hums, looking you over for a moment as his lips lift on one side. 

"Don't say anything," you grit through your teeth. 

He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckles, acting all innocent. "Wasn't going to."

You squint, not believing him for a second, then move around him to get to the bathroom. Before you can shut the door, you hear him mutter, "Another one bites the dust," and consider running out and strangling him.

*

"Please please please come with me to this game," Hitch begs, her hands clasped together, imploring eyes wide and doe-like. 

"No. You have plenty of other friends to go with. You don't need me there."

"But, I want you to be there. It's gonna be such a good match. Rival schools and all that."

You roll your eyes. "Hitch, in all the time you've known me, have you ever seen me give a single fuck about sports?" 

"No, but you'll finally get to see Mike and Erwin and Nile play."

"All the more reason not to go."

"Do you not like them or something? Why wouldn't you like them? Everybody likes them!" 

She doesn't know, and you don't want her to. She had been too caught up with that Marlowe kid at the party, then was kept busy playing pool with Nile to see you and Mike slip out of the bar together. 

It's the only secret you've ever wanted to keep from her. You will take it to the grave. 

"I just… I just don't, okay? I get a… Sleazy vibe from all of them."

You really don't. Not exactly. You're not a big fan of the 'fuck-every-chick-on-capus' mentality, but most college boys think like that. Only difference is these three can actually achieve it. 

Hitch crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a look you've seen on your mother's face many times, usually when she has a point to prove. 

"You know I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you come to one, so why not just get it outta the way?" 

And, there's that point. 

"Ugh." You know she's right, and you really can't put up with this all semester. "Fine, but I'm gonna bitch the entire time."

Hitch squeals and claps, bouncing where she stands. "Yes! Wouldn't have it any other way."

You dress in school colors, put your hair up so that it won't be on your neck as the sun beats down, then take Hitch's little hatchback to the field. You try to talk her into sitting toward the back of the crowd that's gathered on the bleachers, but she just pulls you to the front without acknowledging your request. 

Even with the helmets, you can easily make out who's who, mostly because of their size. Mike and Erwin are doing some kind of pregame ritual where they hit their sticks together, shout something, and chest bump. It's the most alpha thing you've ever fucking seen and makes you question why you ever thought screwing one of them was a good idea. 

To be fair, you never really did think it was a good idea. It just kind of happened. Three times. 

But, it needs to stop. 

You repeat that thought to yourself as you watch Mike sprint across the field and launch the ball into the goal several times. You repeat it as he dances around his opponents with ease, quick footwork until he can throw them off. You repeat it as he stands on the sidelines and takes his helmet off to shake out sweaty hair and squirt water into his mouth. 

And, none of it really helps. Mike is pretty incredible on the field, especially with Erwin and Nile backing him up. Everyone in the stands is screaming, yelling their names and chanting. It's a little contagious, you have to admit. You get as far as clapping but refuse to actually cheer. 

At some point, Erwin jogs over to the bleachers and waves his arms for everyone to get louder, and they sure do. Even through his helmet, you can see his sparkling white smile, and your own lips curl up as you shake your head at him. Unbelievable. He has all these people at his beck and call. 

Erwin has to get back on the field, though, fueled by the crowd like the other nine players. They end up pulling ahead of the other team and finishing the game eleven to seven. 

Naturally, Erwin announces a party at the Pike house, and naturally, Hitch drags you to it. 

This one is even bigger than the last. It offends every one of your senses—too loud, alcohol permeating the air, bad drinks, worse dancing, and strangers rubbing against you as you pass them. 

You give up on your beer before you’re even halfway through with it, just set the can on one of the counters and start milling around. You’d rather be anywhere else but here. Your head hurts from the game earlier, baking in the sun and not drinking enough water. Should’ve taken an Advil… And some Benadryl. Hitch wouldn’t have been able to bring you here if you’d been unconscious. 

All of the lacrosse team is there, flanked with guys who won’t stop slapping them on their backs and girls who won’t stop batting their eyes and squeezing their biceps. It’s comical, really, the fairweather trend. There’s no way this would be happening if they’d lost their last three games. Instead, the team would be getting harassed and pestered, not so subtle comments about practicing more and replacing members. You’ve seen it all before. 

Leaning against a wall, you watch it all unfold. It’s probably the most entertaining thing at the party other than the group of sorority girls dancing on a table. Things are getting out of hand already, and you would prefer not be here for the aftermath, but just as you're about to leave, Mike breaks away from the group and strides over to you.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you.” He takes a sip from his cup, smiling around the rim.

You use your usual excuse: “Hitch,” and he nods. 

“Right. Did you watch the game today?”

Crossing your arms, you mumble a, “Yes,” that Mike can’t hear but can definitely see.

He beams then asks, “You gonna tell me I played well? ‘Cause I did.” He’s all cocksure and giddy, and it makes your body run hot in a few different ways.

“I don’t think you need anyone else fawning over you,” you say with a condescending laugh.

“You mean you don’t want me to flex for you?”

“I’m leaving. Right now." When you push past him a little too roughly, it causes him to drop his cup, and your shirt is suddenly plastered to your chest and stomach. The white isn’t discolored, which leads you to believe, “Fuck, is this just straight vodka?”

“No, Christ,” he cringes at your wet state, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s just water. Sorry.”

You scrunch your top up to wring it out, wondering what he’s doing drinking water instead of liquor, but you’re not about to pick on him for staying hydrated. 

“It’s fine. I was about to leave anyway.”

He’s quick to stop you with a, “No, don’t. Just… change into one of my shirts or something."

Narrowing your eyes, you contemplate how many ways this can go wrong, how much you should not allow this, and even go as far as accusing, "You're just trying to get me in your room again."

"You wanna stay in a wet shirt?" Not really. "Come on."

He jerks his head toward the hallway, and you end up following him, grumbling the whole time because you swear to God if you end up on your back for him again, you're going to be very upset with yourself. 

Mike beelines it for his dresser as soon as you're in the room, much quieter than the rager outside. He digs around in it, flipping all the way to the bottom then pulls out a heather gray tee. 

"It'll probably still be a little big, but it's from high school, so you shouldn't drown in it."

He tosses it to you then, to your surprise, turns back to the wall to give you the privacy to change. You eye him the whole time, peeling off your top as well as your bra since it soaked through. His shirt still covers your little shorts, and you assume you look a lot like one of those sorority girls, but it's good enough, has that super soft feeling from being worn too much. 

"Thanks. You can, uh… You can turn around now."

Mike looks over his shoulder, like he's making sure you're decent, then turns around fully. 

"I was trying to get outta there anyway. Spilling a drink on you was a good excuse."

You open your mouth, choking on a scoff, then ask, "Did you do that on purpose?" 

"No! It really was an accident. I'm glad it was just water, but I still feel bad."

You're squinting at him, but now you're curious about something else.

"Why'd you wanna get away from the party?" 

Sighing, Mike shows a tired smile. "Honestly, I'm still worn out from the game. I'm already sore and covered in these god damn bruises. I just wanna relax."

"If you're covered in bruises, I can't imagine how the other team feels. You smacked the shit outta some of 'em."

"So, you were watching."

"I may have glanced up once or twice," you lie. "Anyway, why don't you just hide out in here?" 

He shrugs his shoulders. "Erwin insisted I show my face, and I didn't want him to give me shit about being a recluse."

You can relate. It's why Hitch drags you everywhere. You wouldn't even leave your dorm for classes if you didn't have to. 

Still. "Dude. You're definitely not a recluse. You're fucking everywhere. All the time."

"So? I can get tired too."

He's got a point. 

"Can we just chill in here for a while?" He asks you. 

"Why do you need me to chill? You basically just said you needed a break from social interaction."

"Yeah, but not all social interaction," he corrects with a small grin. "Please? I've got movies and video games, Zelda and shit."

Again, the contemplation kicks in, all the pros and cons. You know very well what this can (will) lead to, but you also want to escape the party. And, if Hitch whines about you leaving, you can tell her you were there the whole time. Not like it's a lie. 

"Fine, but I have some stipulations."

"Oh, do you?" 

"I do."

Mike waves a hand for you to go on. "Let's hear 'em then."

Holding up one finger, you tell him, "You have to let me snoop around your room—" he laughs. You lift another finger, "—and we are not, under any circumstances, having sex."

"Deal." 

You tilt your head, taken aback at how quick he is to agree. "Wait, seriously?" 

"Seriously. Go ahead. I'll pull up Hulu."

You hum, still suspicious, but start making your rounds, taking in photos from what you assume to be the high school soccer team he played on, then a fishing trip with Erwin, a middle-aged couple with a dog, and some pinned up tickets to sporting events he's attended. 

He has a bookshelf against a wall, textbooks at eye level, but the top and bottom shelves are filled with sci-fi and fantasy novels that make you smile. His TV is fairly large, big enough to see the picture from his bed which is also sizable and draped with a plush comforter. The last thing that catches your eye is his closet, halfway open and full of jerseys and Polos. A few different pairs of shoes sit at the bottom, but pushed all the way in the corner are a few boxes of fucking Magic the Gathering cards. 

"Oh, man. You really are a closet nerd. Like, literally."

"Huh?" Mike looks over at where you're kneeling, realizes what you're looking at and actually sounds self-conscious when he admits, "Yeah, uh, I wasn't joking the other day." 

"I've never played—too technical for me—but my friends in high school did."

"There are baseball cards back there too if that makes me any cooler."

"It doesn't," you say bluntly before straightening up and reaching to shut the door to his room. Plopping down on the floor next to him (where he was smart enough to sit), you add, "But even I can admit it's kind of endearing."

"Oh yeah?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, that stupid lopsided grin on his too-handsome face. 

"Don't get cocky, Zacharias." 

"You wouldn't let me if I wanted to."

Both of you agree to a Batman movie, and you make yourself comfortable, kicking your sandals off and leaning against the bed behind you. You're a little too aware of Mike's body beside yours, but you're able to ignore it for the most part, keeping a few inches between your arms and legs. Of course, he still brushes against you when the movie ends and he takes the time to stretch. His shoulders roll, making his shirt strain over his back, and when he holds his arms out, linked at his fingers, you can't help but take a quick look at his bulging biceps. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna feel like garbage tomorrow," he complains. You can see the bruises littering his arms, some of them thick lines while others are almost perfectly circular from where he was hit with the end of a lacrosse stick. 

"You have any classes?" You ask. 

"Just my ten o'clock and three o'clock."

You make a noise of acknowledgement then fall silent. You're not sure how to hold a conversation with him that isn't sarcastic or snippy since you haven't actually done a lot of talking in the first place. 

"Sucks," is all you can come up with. 

"It's alright. I've probably dealt with worse."

"Probably?" 

"Well, nothing really comes to mind, but I'm sure I have."

You should get going. It's late, and you have a nine AM tomorrow. Plus, the longer you sit next to Mike, the more ideas pop up in your head. Dirty ideas. Ideas that will leave you disappointed in yourself. 

"Well, I'm gonna head back. This has been…" You're unsure of what word to use, don't want to get his hopes up by saying 'fun'. 

Mike figures you out and offers, "Tolerable?" 

"Yeah, we can go with that. I'll get your shirt back to you sometime soon."

Mike chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just whenever you can." He grabs your wet top from the ground and holds it out to you, then reaches for the door as you slip on your sandals. 

You feel him close behind you, close enough for his chest to push against your back when you straighten up. His arm is pressing into your side, hand curled around the knob and twisting it, but he's unable to open the door as you let your head fall against it. 

"God dammit." 

"Hm?" You can tell he's leaning down because his breath falls just over your ear. 

"I said we weren't—"

He cuts you off, "But, you want to."

He's too hot and too smooth, and you can’t stop yourself from turning around and breathing, "Yeah, I want to." 

It's different tonight. Mike takes his time undressing you, kissing and sucking your neck, your collarbone, your nipples that pebble against his tongue. It's unnerving even as you squirm and moan. 

He eats you out lazily, flattening his tongue against your folds then dipping into your slit so that he can slip into your twitching hole. 

When he adds a finger, you immediately grind down on it, silently begging him to work you open enough to take his cock, but he doesn't move any faster, apparently content to just drive you insane. 

You're nearly begging by the time he turns you on your side and moves to lay behind you, hiking your leg up and pushing most of his length inside of you in one faultless motion that makes you choke and sob his name. 

That stretch is back, delicious as it is painful as he splits you open. His thrusts are the same slow pace, cock dragging against gummy walls as he drapes an arm over you to toy with your swollen clit. 

It takes you both longer than usual to come, but when you do, your whole body trembles against him, and you have to suck in several deep breaths until you feel like your lungs start actually filling with air. 

Mike paints your back with warm cum, groaning right in your ear as he rubs against you, his cock sliding easily up and down your skin and making more of a mess. 

That unnerving feeling blooms in your chest again, crawls up into your throat. 

Tonight had been too casual, too natural. The way you hung out and watched a movie was already a little strange. Him fucking you from behind, holding you tight against his body, was too tender. And, now, after he leaves to grab a wet towel and uses it to clean your back, you find yourself searching for words again only to come up with passionate—intimate. 

And, words like that scare you.

[ n e x t ]

[enamoured-x]

Sweet Release

Angel Reyes x Reader

Summary: When Angel doesn’t make time for you, you make a hard choice. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Angst

Word count: 3k

Excerpt: “You couldn’t fake reaching literal heaven every time Angel sank inside you. But he didn’t deserve to hear that right now.”

*gif is mine!

a/n: so this came out of nowhere but i’m excited about it and there will be a part 2!!! i fucking missed writing for angel, so much so i may or many not open my requests back up again! keep an eye out for part 2 though!

Part 1

To say you were miserable was a gross understatement. And you couldn't even be mad about it because this was your doing. You were the reason you were wallowing everyday. You were the reason you had to take care of your own needs with a vibe that was nowhere near what you wanted. You were the maker of your own misery. But then again, were you really? Angel fucking Reyes should be the one to blame. When you first started dating Angel, everything was perfect, isn’t it always though? You were happier than you had ever been and honestly, you two were jumping each other's bones whenever you could. Up until a few months ago that was. 

Suddenly Angel just couldn’t make time anymore, always busy with the club. You knew with being secretary came a lot more responsibilities, and you were extremely proud of him and happy that he was able to move up in the club. What you weren’t happy about was the canceled dates. Hell, sometimes he wouldn’t even come over to spend the night, opting to stay at the club house in his dorm because he was taking care of shit as he liked to put it. You had grown exhausted waiting for him at restaurants and then looking stupid as you had to tell the waiters your date wasn’t showing up. You were exhausted of the food you put an effort into making going to waste because he wouldn’t show and when he did even the leftovers went untouched because he already ate. You were exhausted from the effort and time you put into stopping by the clubhouse, figuring if he couldn’t come to you that you’d go to him. But even those occasions were met with his quick words of I can’t hang out right now, club shit. So eventually you just had enough. He wasn’t putting in any effort and you deserved more than that. Deserved more than a few measly texts a day that didn’t even contain a simple I love you. And you told him as much when you went to the clubhouse for the sole purpose of getting your key back to your apartment and to tell him you were through. Lord knows if you tried to schedule a time to talk it would’ve inevitably gotten canceled. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Looking for Angel?” Ez had asked you as you pulled into the junkyard and exited your car. He was wiping grime off his hands with a cloth, looking like he was fixing up the bikes. 

“Yup. I’ll spoil the surprise for you now but I’m here to dump your brother.” You were annoyed to say the least, at your wits end with the older Reyes. You were also honestly a little mad at yourself for not doing this sooner. Could’ve saved you from looking pathetic out in public a few times. 

Ez’s eyes widened and he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Jesus, What happened?” He asked, taking on a sympathetic tone. You loved Ezekiel like your own brother. He was always looking out for you and had become a great friend since you started dating Angel. Which is why you could only hope you two could remain friends even after this. 

“I got tired of showing up for someone who isn’t willing to do the same.” You shrugged and then walked toward the house. Once inside you spotted Angel immediately, sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand as he talked with Coco and Gilly. So this was what he was doing instead of making time for you. They looked over at your presence and Angel stood up, a smile on his face. 

“Hey, querida. What are you doing here?” He said, pulling you into him and pressing a kiss to your temple. Honestly, it was more affection than you had gotten all month. You didn’t make any move to lean into him. 

“We need to talk.” Is all you said before Coco and Gilly awkwardly shared a look. 

“I’m a little busy, mam–”

“Yeah, life as secretario looks so fucking busy.” You snapped and he backed away to look at you. His face contorted in confusion and anger. 

“The fuck?” And that was Coco and Gilly’s cue to go outside, leaving just you and Angel. 

“I need my key back to my apartment.” You stated, getting right into it. Trying to mask what you were really feeling. This was already hurting like a bitch despite the trajectory of your relationship recently. You loved Angel, you really did. But you loved yourself enough to know that you didn’t deserve putting in your all in this relationship as he gave you nothing in return. 

“Come again?” He set his bottle down and gave you all his attention. That was a first. 

“My key. Give it back. I’m done with this.” You motioned between you two. You were being a little more petty than you wanted to be. Originally you had planned to just have a civil conversation about leaving him but he couldn’t even extend that courtesy with his shit poor excuses so why should you? Besides, there was nothing civil about you and Ange Reyes.

“Wait, what the fuck are you talking about?” He was angry, now getting the gist of what you were doing. 

“You heard me. We’re done. Give me my key back.” Angel shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. 

“Fuck no. I’m not giving you shit back, we’re not done. The fuck are you talking about? Where’s this shit coming from?” Of course it was just like Angel to try and control the situation, act like he was in charge. 

“You’re really asking me why?” You honestly don’t know how he could see this as a blindside. Honestly, he should be surprised you didn’t dump his ass sooner. 

“Mami, stop playing fucking games.” He stepped closer, eye simmering with rage. How ironic. 

“Angel, when was the last time we fucked?” You asked, trying to figure out how to gauge this conversation. Some part of you did want to just dump him and then leave, offering no explanation because the angry part of you felt like he didn’t deserve one. But maybe by explaining it you were doing a solid for the next girl that would come after you. Your heart restricted at the thought. Your stomach filling with lead. You pushed that away, now was not the time to sit in your grief, right now you were controlled by your anger and your disappointment. 

“Wha–I don’t know…” He trailed off thinking. Probably confused by your question and what it had to do with you leaving him. 

“Exactly. Angel, you’ve barely touched me this past month and I don’t have enough fingers to count how many times I’ve been stood up by you these past few weeks alone. You’re never around, Angel.” You pointed out. You felt your nose start to burn and you mentally cursed yourself for wanting to cry. You were supposed to put on this facade, you were supposed to act like you weren’t deeply devastated at the fact that you had to do this in the first place. But you were, sitting in your anger was only going to get you so far until that simmered out and the pain creeped in. 

“I told you I–”

“Your busy, yeah, I got that.” You quipped. He tried to grab your hand but you pulled it away and he scoffed. 

“You serious right now? I miss a few dates and you want to leave me? Nah, that’s not how this works. You talk to me about it.” 

“Talk? Are you fucking serious? When could I have talked to you, hmm? I’ve made plans with you three times this week alone and you flaked on all of them, it's not even fucking Friday. So when could I have talked to you? You don’t fucking care.” 

He stepped up to you and pointed at you, “do not say I don’t fucking care.” He was pissed, just now realizing the gravity of the situation. Just now realizing you weren’t fucking around. You were glad for it, maybe he’d take it seriously now. 

“You don’t. If you cared I wouldn’t be up late at night wondering if you’re okay because you didn’t bother to shoot me a text. If you cared I wouldn’t look like an idiot to half the fucking waiters in this town because you didn’t bother to show up. If you cared, Angel, I wouldn’t have to touch myself at night because my own man can’t bother to please me.” You knew you were getting through to him during your spiel but his stare turned murderous when you questioned his abilities to please you. Of course that was what got his attention. 

“The fuck you just say to me?” He towered over you now but you weren’t going to let him intimidate you. You were in charge of this situation, not him. 

“Which part needs repeating? When I said you keep standing me up or the part where I said you don’t please me in bed?” You fired back. Gone was the grief again, your rage taking its turn to control you once again. Your emotions were all over the place but so were you and Angel. 

“Careful, mami.” He said, voice low and threatening. You snorted.

“Why? Afraid your club will hear how you don’t know how to please a woman.” Next thing you know you were being shoved against the wall. Breath knocked out of you at the quick and forceful action. His hand latched onto your throat now. Your center throbbed, like a call to tell you that you needed this. You definitely didn’t want to but your fingers only did so much. 

It was all shit, Angel did know how to please you, that is when he could be bothered. But you knew how to press his buttons just right, how to make him angry like no one else could. And you wanted him upset, you wanted him angry because he had hurt you. 

“You know that’s not true. Had you screaming last time.” He said in your ear as he trailed his hands down your waist and to your ass. Pulling you closer to him to grind himself against you. You swallowed hard. You had missed his touch, had missed him being this close. Your senses were going haywire, not knowing which way was up or down, not knowing what the fuck you were here to do in the first place. All you could feel was him, all you could smell was him. All you wanted was him. But you knew right now you were thinking with your pussy and just because you wanted him still did not mean you didn’t want to break up with him. But your vibrator and fingers were doing a shit job at giving you what you needed, and well, if this was the end, you needed the release only Angel could provide you with. Despite you telling him only moments ago that he offered nothing in bed. 

“Maybe I was faking it.” You weren’t. You couldn’t fake reaching literal heaven every time Angel sank inside you. But he didn’t deserve to hear that right now. He squeezed your throat, bringing you a sense of euphoria. 

“Faking it? Yeah, let’s see you fake this, mami.” He unbuttoned your jeans and slid his hand inside your panties. You cursed yourself for being so wet already. 

“You wet because you’re faking it?” He asked, lips right at your ear. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine and caused your core to clench around nothing. He felt it though. He laughed under his breath and you wanted to slap him for being so cocky after everything. But it wouldn’t matter once this was over. You’d let him have his fun now. Let him think he was in control one last time. 

“I don’t think so. You’re always wet for me, always so damn needy. Always so fucking ready to take me.” He turned you around and pushed you against the wall, pulling at your hips for your ass to grind against his crotch. His dick was already hard and straining in his pants. You let out a moan. You didn’t care that you were out in the open, didn’t care that his words pissed you off mostly because they were true. Didn’t care that this was going to be the last time. No, all you cared about in this moment was getting Angel inside you and coming around his cock. 

“Then fuck me, Angel. Prove you can actually please me.” You spurred him on. Needing your release already. Craving it. 

“My fucking pleasure.” He said, obviously not in the mood to drag this on any longer. He made quick work of yanking your jeans and panties down and you heard him fumbling with his own pants. You felt the tip of his cock slide against your slit, getting himself slicked for you with your juices. You moaned as the head nudged against your clit. Your body was on fire. The white hot need inside you, pooling in your stomach, was screaming for a release. And you were about to get one. 

“Fuck me already. Or did you forget how to do it?” You wanted it rough and hard, wanted him to leave bruises on your hips and feel you ache of him days later. You wanted something to remember him by. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Was all he said before slamming into you, filling you up. You screamed at the force and at how long it had been since he was last inside you. The stretch hurt so good and you pushed against the wall to meet his brutal thrusts. He wrapped a hand around your throat again as he dug his fingers into your hips, forcing you on his length over and over. 

“So fucking tight. This what you wanted, mami? So fucking desperate for my cock?” You whined at his words because they were true. But you didn’t want to admit it. 

“I want it harder actually.” You were hanging on by a thread here. All that pent up frustration from spoiled orgasms from your fingers to hating Angel for leaving you high and dry. It was all coming together to create a thunderous symphony of emotions, one that was about to hit its crescendo. 

Angel didn’t disappoint as he pounded you from behind, trying to reach his release as desperately as you were trying to reach yours. The hand that was on your throat immediately made way to your clit.

“Fuck, Angel.” You cried out as he rubbed the numb, never relenting in his pace. Tears were forming in your eyes. From the stimulation or from the breakup that was still going to happen, you didn’t know. All you knew right now was Angel. 

“Fuck, yeah. Gonna come, mami? Gonna come on my dick?” You grabbed his arm to roll your hips both on his fingers and back onto his cock. Pleasure was hitting you from all angles and you were about to break. You clenched down on him, wanting him to reach his release too. Wanting to feel him fill you up. 

“Oh fuck!” He yelled out as you clenched around him. He bit your shoulder to control himself and you groaned at the sting that accompanied his bite. It was all too much and not enough. Which was sign enough that you were right on the precipice. 

“Gonna come.” You barely got the words out, mind too wrapped up in literally everything else. Everywhere Angel was touching. 

“Do it. Let me hear you.” He rubbed just right on the bundle of nerves as his cock pistoned inside you and you were done for. You dived right off that cliff. Your back arched as you screamed his name. Your vision went black for a moment as you fucking drowned in your high. Angel diving right in after you as you felt him spill inside you and curse your name. You finally came back to the present, catching your breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm started to fade in waves. You suddenly became aware of the situation again. Became aware of why you were here. As mind blowing as that climax was, it didn’t change anything. You turned around as you lifted your pants back up, Angel doing the same. Once he finished buttoning them you pulled him in for a kiss. Putting everything you had into it, what was left of your energy. He kissed you back with the same intensity and you cursed him because this was all you had been asking for. For him to love you, for him to give you something. But he didn’t and this was not going to change anything. 

As his tongue slipped into your mouth, you slid your hand into his back pocket and pulled out his keys and pulled away from him. He was confused until you backed up from him and started to unhook your key from his key ring. 

“What the fuck….” Of course he was confused, of course he thought sex was going to fix this. You pushed the keys against his chest and he held your hand against his chest, realizing what was happening, what was still happening.

“No…” He shook his head, realization dawning on him that the sex was one last sweet release before you left. A goodbye. Not a makeup. 

“Don’t do this shit. Don’t do this to me, baby.” He shook his head, eyes glossy. Words breaking. Your heart cracked, gone was the intense high he just gave you and instead there you were, right back in the low of it all. 

“You did this to yourself, Angel. Goodbye.” You swallowed hard and tugged your hand out of his grasp, he let out a breath. You turned around and walked out the door with your head high. Walked out leaving him behind to deal with what just happened. Walked out and into the shit storm that was going to be the next few weeks of getting over one Angel Reyes. 

[sukifans]

aahhh I’m so excited I love your writing!!! your sokka “help me” fic is one of my favs ever I seriously think about it at least twice a week. in a similar vein, would you be able to combine prompts 10 & 12 for sokka x fem!reader? thank you!!! :)

SOKKA + “can i try that new chapstick? i wanna have a taste” + “i hadn’t noticed but my sweet, funny, goofy best friend is kind of hot, especially since they’ve been on this fitness kick”

⇦ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

“nastiest skank bitches” Group Message

loml: ladies, i need a girls night

loml: desperately

babygorl: god i’m down, this semester blows

fugly slut <3: i’m in!! always here for a girls night 🥰

loml: y/n??

you: gals. pals. as much as i would love to...

fugly slut <3: ughhhhhhhhh

babygorl: you better not be blowing us off for sokka again istg

you: 😅

loml: TRAITOR BITCH

fugly slut <3: HOES BEFORE BROS

babygorl: WHORE

you: bruh.mp3

you: he’s coming by after the gym to help me with my physics homework!!! I NEED THE HELP PLS I PROMISE ILL BE THERE NEXT TIME

babygorl: lying is a sin y/n

babygorl: sinner

loml: if sokka’s gonna b there maybe she’ll be sinning in........ other ways...... ahaha

loml: fuckboy_emoji.jpg

fugly slut <3: when you gonna tap that fr

you: NEVER LITERALLY NO EW

you: HE’S MY BEST FRIEND

you: UNLIKE YOU RATS

fugly slut <3: he do b kinda yummy tho liiiike 👀

you: STOP

loml: yeah he’s hot sorry queen

you: HE’S NOT HOT

babygorl: i almost hate to admit it but...

babygorl: his biceps 🥴

fugly slut <3 emphasized “his biceps 🥴”

loml loved “his biceps 🥴”

you: hey! i hate u guys! jsyk!

fugly slut <3 disliked “hey! i hate u guys! jsyk!”

babygorl disliked “hey! i hate u guys! jsyk!”

loml disliked “hey! i hate u guys! jsyk!”

babygorl: uh huh yeah sure

loml: yall hear sumn?

NEW MESSAGE from sokka :^)

“hey i’m omw up!”

you: whatever you guys suck

you: i gtg

fugly slut <3: AND YOU SWALLOW

babygorl: bye girly!! get that bestie dick!!

loml: save a car, ride an engineering major >:)

you: desgostang.jpg

You dropped your phone onto the bed next to you with a groan. Your friends really and truly could be such freaks about your relationship with Sokka—or lack thereof. They’d been especially adament ever since he started some stupid bet with Zuko about who could get the most “gains” by graduation, incited by Aang making the mistake of commenting on Zuko’s more pronounced muscle mass.

Idiots.

That’s what Sokka was. Your idiotic best friend, who was funny, and sweet, and intelligent. You loved him, of course, but not like that. And he was not hot.

Definitely not.

The pounding on your dorm door interrupted your musings before Sokka let himself in, dropping his gym bag on the floor and kicking off his slides. His hair was loose and still damp from his post-workout shower and he wore slim joggers with a loose muscle tee.

“Hey!” He smiled brightly when he spotted you sitting in your bed. “What’s up?”

“The usual.” You moved your legs out of the way so he could flop down onto your mattress. “How was the gym?”

Sokka groaned. “Cardio. I’m already sore.” He stretched his arms up to fold behind his head, pulling his muscles taut.

Hm. He does kind of have nice biceps...

You shook yourself internally. Thoughts like these had been creeping out of your subconscious for weeks now, no thanks to your rabid friends.

“My leg’s been killing me, though,” he continued, rubbing his opposite foot across the skin that covered that metal pins and plates holding his bones together after a nasty break in high school. The leg often still gave him problems, ranging from the dull ache he could ignore on the day-to-day, to throbbing pain that left him limping.

You frowned, looking away from his arms to meet his eyes. “You should probably rest up before you hurt yourself,” you said.

“I’ll be fine.” He shrugged and propped himself up on his elbows. “Gotta catch up to Zuko, y’know.”

“Why? You’re already taller than him.”

“So? I wanna be more yolked, too.”

You rolled your eyes. “Buncha dumbasses.”

Sokka quirked an eyebrow. “You want this dumbass to help with your physics homework or not?”

“Haha,” you chuckled nervously, “just kidding, buddy! I meant Zuko and Aang. You—definitely not a dumbass. Nope.”

“That’s what I thought.” He shot you a smug look as he pushed up to sit cross-legged across from you on the bed. He held his hand out with a dramatic, world-weary sigh. “Alright, give it here.”

You opened your laptop to pull up the website that hosted your homework practice problems. “You know I love you, right?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, grabbing a notebook and pen from your desk to work out the math as you handed over the computer. He paused before standing to retrieve his bag, plopping it on your desk chair so he could root through it and pull out his glasses case. You felt your cheeks warm a little when he set the frames on the bridge of his nose.

Fine—he was kinda cute. You could concede that without having to dig too deep into your somewhat jumbled feelings for your best friend.

But you would certainly not “tap that.”

Well...

No. You would not.

You watched his eyes flick over the screen as he tapped the pen against his chin, catching the cap between his teeth while he thought about the formulas he’d learned in a past semester. He nodded to himself and started scribbling out a diagram and the math to go with it. You found yourself a little mesmerized by the way he simply just knew what to do, confidently scratching away at the paper as easily as one might write the alphabet. Your eyes trailed from his long fingers and calloused hand sweeping over the page, up his toned arm (lingering on his bicep a little longer), and to his face. He chewed at the inside of his cheek in concentration, sometimes parting his lips to murmur the logic to himself.

For someone who often said a lot of stupid shit, he sure had a pretty mouth.

You considered what he might do if you snatched a fistful of his shirt and yanked him into a kiss. Would he shove you away and leave? Awkwardly but kindly reject you? Or, would he kiss you back—throw the work out of the way and grab your face to coax you in deeper? Maybe push you back onto the bed and—

“Okay, so basically—”

Jesus Christ, get a fucking grip.

“—from the problem and draw it out like this to apply the formula, yeah?”

Sokka looked to you expectantly and you blinked at him as your face burned. “Sorry, I zoned out. What did you say?”

“C’mon, I know you hate physics but you gotta at least pay attention to me if you wanna pass,” he teased, shifting close enough that the sides of your bodies pressed together. Was it getting warmer in your room, or was it just your best friend?

He launched into the explanation again and you nodded along while internally willing the blood to leave your cheeks. Even as your thoughts ricocheted around inside your skull he managed to break it down in a way that somewhat made sense. He sat back and watched as you slowly worked through the next problem. You glanced up when you heard a soft pop to see him applying chapstick.

“Is that a new flavor?” you asked.

“Yeah, chocolate orange or something.” He held the tube out to you. “Wanna try?”

Fuck it.

Before your rationality could catch up you pressed a hand to his cheek to turn his head and pulled him in for a kiss. Your lips only slotted together for a brief moment before you pulled back to stare wide-eyed at each other. You could feel the fire creeping from your cheeks down your neck, mirrored in the reddening of his tanned skin.

He blinked. You blinked.

The chapstick slipped from between his fingers. Rationality arrived late.

You bolted.

“Uh, see ya later!” you shouted as you threw the door open and rushed out of the room.

“Wait, (Y/N)—“

You didn’t stick around to hear the end of his desperate call. Even thought it was your dorm and you were barefoot you still raced down the hall, wincing at the sound of a door slamming behind you.

“(Y/N)!”

Damn that lanky bastard. You were booking it and he was already hot on your heels. You barreled into the door leading to the stairwell and almost made it down the first step when he grabbed you around the waist and yanked you back. Despite your struggles, the arm hooked across your middle was unyielding until he pushed you into the corner and crowded you against the wall, hands caging you in from either side. Your heart was racing and you weren’t sure if it was because of your escape attempt or that he was close enough you could smell his body wash and deodorant. It was almost enough to make your head spin.

“Sokka, I-I don’t know why—I’m sorry, please, I shouldn’t’ve—“

“(Y/N),” he said firmly and your mouth snapped shut. “Why did you run away?”

“Uh, I—well, um...” You shrunk down against the wall and swallowed hard. “I-I don’t know.”

“You didn’t even give me a chance to respond.”

“Look—“ You paused and stared at him once you processed what he said. “What?”

He laughed, dropping one of his hands to brush against your cheek before threading into your hair to cup the base of your skull. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

With that he surged forwards and kissed you enthusiastically, making you gasp into his mouth. You balled your hands into the front of his shirt to keep yourself steady as you melted into him. His free hand pressed into your lower back to bring you in closer. His tongue slipped out to tease at your bottom lip and he chuckled when you had to quickly grab his shoulders as your knees almost buckled.

“Get that,” he murmured against your lips, pressing his forehead to yours as the two of you gasped for air.

“Oh,” you breathed, “that.” You hummed happily when he kissed you again, his stubble scratching against your chin and under your palms when you cupped his face.

You both looked up when a stairwell door somewhere above you slammed open, followed by a group of jostling male voices. Sokka grinned when you glanced at him with wide eyes and shiny, swollen lips. You tried to hide behind him as the clamor bounded closer and closer. The group of guys rounded the next flight and gave shouts of recognition upon seeing you two standing against the wall.

“Sokka!”

“Hey, man!”

“Hey, guys,” Sokka said, holding his hand up in greeting.

“What’s up?”

“Oh, is that (Y/N)?”

“Nice, dude!”

“Ah, yeah...” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and you raised an eyebrow at his turned head. They all cheered and congratulated him, slapping his back as they passed and disappeared down the next set of stairs. When Sokka met your eyes again you cocked your head.

“Who were they?” you asked.

“Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“Sokka.”

“My reputation precedes me, what can I say?”

“Mine doesn’t.”

“Well—“ he suddenly became very interested in the underside of the stairs above you “—my reputation may or may not involve talking about you. A lot, apparently.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t do it on purpose!” he interjected quickly, taking your hands in his. “It’s just—I dunno, I guess I think about you a lot, so...”

“Oh.”

“Fuck, okay, that sounded weird.” You laughed a little at his embarrassed floundering. “I just mean, like, things that remind me of you or, y’know, stories that involve you...” he trailed off, flushing at your amused smile. “Stop it!”

“Stop what?”

“Making fun of me!”

“I didn’t say anything,” you giggled, hooking your arms around his neck.

“You’re still laughing at me,” he whined, lips turning into a frown. His hands slipped back down to your waist.

“You’re cute.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Without preamble, he ducked down and hoisted you over his shoulder as you shrieked in protest. “Sokka! Put me down!”

“No can do, baby; we have unfinished business to attend to.” He said as he marched you back in the direction of your room.

“You’re gonna finish my physics homework?”

“Nope.”

Oh.

A/N: 2k words bc, again, i have no self control. thank you for the request!

ATLA TAGS: @hotgirlazula @octophopi @blazedbakugou @protect-remus @akiris @sunflowerazula @wooscottoncandyhair @chewymoustachio @ohno-caroline @sunflowerr-mami @1vitamin @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @u-4iia @nymeria-targaryen @tommy-braccoli @dizzy-miss-lizzieeeeee @a-sloppy-bitch @nomin-rights @siriuslyslyslytherin @starryncn

SOKKA TAGS: @fiantomartell @avatarayeaye @zvkta @sher-lockedmarvel @grandmascottlang @captainshazamerica @yuesallura

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Nickèd Names

Yuu finally learns who her funny Horned Boy is. This one takes place just after the ghost wedding. Content warning for coarse language and frank talk of bodily functions.

As always, check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag for more, and don’t be afeared to send me a message if you enjoyed something!

~*~*~*~

"You're finally back in class?"

You nodded at Deuce. "Stopped pissing blood every time I sneezed, so I'm back."

There's much to be said for kissing pretty ghost girls, but the main drawback is that when you do, you immediately, catastrophically hemorrhage from every pore as all your organs fail, and even with magical healing, you're still bedridden for a week. You wouldn't be doing that again. Maybe. Eliza was very cute.

"You're back. Excellent." Trein dropped a stack of papers in front of you. "Here's the work you missed."

You blinked up at him in horror. "Professor, I nearly died."

He stared back, face impassive. "You nearly did. And I'm fond of your work ethic. That's why you get this instead of a fail."

"... I'll take that."

~*~*~*~

It's after dark, so he should be along any time now. You set your phone down and wait.

True to form, your funny horned boy is soon sitting on the railing of your balcony, smiling at you. "You're all better now?"

"Better-ish." You might never get to stop taking those pills and supplements. "Why didn't you come by the room?"

"You don't know that I didn't. You slept a fair deal."

"Rude. Let's walk."

~*~*~*~

You're too tired to try the woods, so you're both slowly picking your way around the dorm grounds, your pretty horned boy keeping an eye that you don't trip. You could count the times he's touched you on one hand; when you asked, he said he didn't want to be rude. Perhaps he wasn't as fond of you as he seemed.

A buzz from your phone, Ortho wanted a symptoms check-in. You tapped back that you're fine, and your boy peered over your shoulder, leaning this way and that. Curiosity took the better of you.

"... You do know what a phone is, right?"

He chuckled. "Of course I do, my child of man. Not all technology is unknown in my homeland."

"Do you have one? I can give you my number."

He shook his head. "After I broke my last one, we decided it really wasn't necessary."

"You can replace them, you know."

"It was my... fifth?" He started counting on his hands. "No, sixth. They're delicate. After going through that many in as many weeks, we simply canceled the contract."

Your eyebrows went up through no effort of your own. "Jesus, you have the dropsies that bad?"

"The what?"

"Dropsies.” You mimed opening your hand, dropping something. “You dropped them."

"The first one went that way. Most simply shattered when I pressed the screen too hard, and one Lilia threw against a wall."

You decided to ask Lilia how he know your boy later. "Why'd he do that?"

"I tried to download a game and got, in his words, 'so many viruses.' " He seemed rather proud of himself. "They clearly weren't bad ones, I did not cough once."

"No, honey, that's not how that-" Even in the gloom, you saw he'd turned an alarming shade of red, and you backtracked. "Uh, you want to see anything on mine? I have pictures."

"Only if you don't hand me it."

~*~*~*~

"So there is a camera on this?"

"Yeah, most phones have them. Watch." You opened the camera, and hit the button so that the front camera was on, reflecting your spotty face and a wide-eyed faerie boy behind you. "This one's for selfies."

He made a face of pure confusion, and you hit the button to capture it, and showed him.

"Could you... not do that again? It's not proper." 

"You know it doesn't steal your soul, right?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but again, sheer confusion stopped him until he gathered himself. "You always surprise me. But no, it's that... portraits are a formal thing. You shouldn't share that."

You blinked up at him with your best, sweetest face. "Is this just because you don't want me to ask around for your proper name with it?"

he stopped, blinked, inclined his head. "That didn't occur to me until now, but yes."

"I'll keep it to myself, I promise," you lied, and he believed you, and therefore did not hex your phone when he returned you to your room.

~*~*~*~

It was only partially a lie; you didn't actually show it to anyone. You simply set the picture of you both as your lockscreen, so you could enjoy it anytime. And this was what got Ace staring at your phone like it started sprouting feathers and clucking.

"Why do you have a picture of yourself with Malleus Draconia?"

Ah, so that’s it, you thought to yourself. "Who? That's my Horny Boy."

"what"

"Yeah, he said I could call him whatever I wanted because names are special and he's kind of a dumbass and let me."

Ace put an arm around your shoulder. "Yuu, I need to tell you why that is the second stupidest thing you've done in your life."

~*~*~*~

"He's not scary. You're clearly mistaken."

Ace flailed, halfway between exasperation and disbelief. "He's the strongest magic user in the school! Fifth strongest in the world! He is the Prince of Thorns and a big scary dragon and could kill you in the blink of an eye."

You frowned at him. "He is a great big loser who likes gargoyles and has zero clue about anything, ever. Have you ever actually talked to him?"

Ace gave you his best are-you-fucking-stupid-or-something face. "Of course not. He's also a third year, on top of everything else. I don't want to get turned into a rose bush or something."

"He's actually very easy to talk to. Probably because everyone's too scared to talk to him."You paused. "I'm gonna go talk to him."

"Nope!" Ace pulled you back in to your seat. "What if you curses you because you know his real name?"

"I highly doubt that. Let me go, Ace."

He smirked at you. "If you wanna go so bad then pull away." 

"You know I can't do that, Ace." You're still too weak from your sickroom stay. "If you want me to stay, fine."

So you sat on his lap with a heavy flop, and watched him wince in pain. Even with all the weight lost from your illness, you're still too heavy for him. But he, stubborn brat, still gripped your arm and glared at you.

A battle of wills, one overweight brat and one stubborn weakling, rapidly losing sensation in his legs. "You're not going. I can stay here all day. You'll get bored before I do."

He's not wrong, but you have a secret weapon. "Keep me here and I'll fart on you."

He narrowed his eyes at you. "You can not fart on command."

You leaned over. "You don't know that. For all you know I had cabbage rolls for lunch and it's been brewing all day. You really wanna try me, Trappola?"

He did not want to try you, and, let you go with a grunt of disgust. "If you die, it's not my fault!"

"I'm not gonna die!"

"You said that about the ghost princess!"

"Is everyone going to hold that against me now?"

"YES!"

~*~*~*~

You found your horned boy in a pissing match with Kingscholar, and you decided to be as petty and obnoxious as possible. Walking up behind him - Malleus, what a pretty, pretty name for a witch boy - You simply wrapped your arms around his middle and squeezed, while he froze in place posed like a cowboy about to draw.

Leona started snickering. "Really? You get that few hugs in your life?"

"Shush." You peered under Malleus's arm, while he looked down at you. "Malleus? Can we talk a moment?"

Interesting. He could turn even paler than what he was.

~*~*~*~

"So the entire reason you didn't share who you were is that you thought I wouldn't want to hang out any more."

He nodded. "Most people are afraid of who I am. And you have generally unkind things to say about monarchies, as it is. I did not think you would take the prince thing kindly."

"Well." You shrugged. "Now I know why you kept taking notes whenever I started on that."

"You have many interesting things to say about it!" He brightened considerably. "I couldn't have a shift to elections within my lifetime, obviously, but much of it would be great to try implementing."

"Wouldn't your big scary grandma have anything to say about that?"

His smile was thin, but genuine. "She has much to say on most topics. But, if she did not want me to be exposed to new ideas, she could have simply kept me at home and continued with my private tutors."

You couldn't argue with that. "One last thing, Malleus."

He tilted his head slightly, face faintly pink. How could anyone be scared of him? He's so adorable it's enough to make you sick.

"I don't think I'll call you Horned Boy anymore, now that I know your more proper name."

He looked... disappointed, and you continued. "Mal's a little better for a nickname, yeah? Less of a mouthful."

He made a small noise, considering, before brightening. "Anything that you call me is perfection, my friend."

[wolfstar-supremacy-innit]

Spilling secrets: Remus' confession

Wolfstar one shot in which Remus is blackout drunk and reveals his feelings to Sirius. Loosely based on this lovely post. Sirius' POV, 2.2k words.

I will probably write another one shot, with the roles reversed (Spilling secrets: Sirius' confession), but don't hold me to that. :)

Enjoy lovelies <3

With a sizable effort, James and Sirius finally managed to shove Remus into his bed. Getting him up the stairs alone took 10 minutes. Remus kept stumbling back down towards the common room when the two other boys paused to take a breath from propping him up, before they realized there’s no letting go of Remus if they plan on getting him to the dorm before sunrise. He stirred in the bed for some time, but ultimately sprawled out on the sheets with a content smile on his face.

James and Sirius released monumental sighs of relief. The party downstairs was still in full swing, but both of them effectively sobered up from the bloody grapple they just endured.

“Bloody hell, the snockered bugger,” Sirius exclaimed wiping his forehead with his forearm. James laughed breathlessly at his choice of words.

“Right you are. You going back down?”

“Nah, I’m about ready to be dead asleep for the next three days after that.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They barely changed out of their clothes when Remus suddenly exclaimed from under the covers: “Ugh, God!” The other two boys slowly turned to him. What now, Sirius thought. Remus irritably chucked the blanket away from his head, all the way to his waist. “Why does he have to be so fucking fit?!” James and Sirius exchanged an intrigued look, growing more amused by the second. Remus rarely, or essentially never made such comments. “With his fucking hands, and soft hair and bloody earrings, Jesus,” he continued muttering angrily, but the words became unintelligible as he turned over and stuck his face into the fluffy pillow.

“Who, Moony,” James asked.

“Fucking, Sirius!”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah, Moony, I’m here. Who’s fit?” But it kinda seemed Remus didn’t truly comprehend that he was in the room with people he knew.

“I told you. Sirius,” he continued, face still stuck in the pillow.

“Oh fucking hell. You didn’t tell me anything, mate.”

“Sirius is fucking fit, you idiot,” Remus slurred, voice muffled. He released a loud, annoyed groan, then: “I wanna shag him through the fucking wall.”

A dreadful, resounding silence iced over the room. Sirius felt blazing red heat crawling up his body from the pit of his stomach and settling rather heavily on his cheeks. Did he get that right? Seconds seemed to stretch as Sirius willed his mind to comprehend what he had just heard.

As if snapping both James and Sirius out of a trance, soft snores diffused over the room and James broke into quiet, intense giggles. Sirius felt hot all over with a feeling very very remotely familiar to him: embarrassment. You could probably count on the fingers of one hand the number of things that embarrassed Sirius Black, but boy, was this one of them. Not to mention the boner that was solemnly threatening to make a presence. “Merlin’s sock on a stick, Moony,” he said, nonplussed.

James managed to rein in his laughter enough to breathe out: “You are never going to live this down.”

“And if I shag him on your bed? Will I live it down then?” That seemed to sober James up like a downpour of ice water.

“Holy shit. Do you want to?”

“And what if I do?”

“N-nothing. T- that’s great for you lads, then,” James stammered, obviously bewildered.

“Alright then.” Sirius stepped towards Remus’ bed and pushed his shoulder back to roll him away from the pillow that was threateningly muffling his breathing. “So he doesn’t suffocate, the idiot.”

Without another word, the two boys got into their respective beds and drew the curtains. Sirius lay there, on top of the covers, staring at the drapes with large eyes. He shifted. Yep, an undignified boner was indubitably tenting his pajama bottoms. His heart was hammering, mind buzzing. Moony actually looked at him like that. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. Or was he brain-dead pissed and just speaking nonsense? He felt a heavy lump of disappointment settle in his stomach.

“Padfoot,” came a voice from James’ bed. Sirius made a questioning sound. “Did you actually mean that? About Moony?”

Pause. “Yeah. I did.”

James cleared his throat. “Yeah, okay, cool. Cool, cool. Um, Padfoot?”

“Yeah?”

“You never told me you, um. You liked blokes.”

“Yeah, sorry. I told you now. Is that alright?” There was a silence that made Sirius’ mind stir with fear until he heard rustling and then a body jumped on him, encompassing him in a bone-crushing hug. Boy, was Sirius glad his boner dissipated in the panic of waiting for his best friend’s reaction.

“Of course it’s alright, you git!” Relief filled Sirius as a face-splitting grin stretched his mouth. Pulling apart after a few moments, they sat cross-legged across each other. “And Moony, blimey. What a catch, good on you, Sirius.”

“Hah. Well... We’ll se what the morning light brings.”

“Oh, shut it. Don’t go all poetic on me in the wee hours of the night. It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Sirius flopped around in bed the most of the night. Shortly after James returned to his own four-poster, Peter stumbled in from downstairs and flung himself into bed. Sirius couldn’t will his brain to quiet down enough to fall asleep for a long while. When he finally concluded all of the other boys were sound asleep, he resolved to have a wank thinking about no other than gorgeous, incredible Remus, laying just a couple of meters to the right, snoring away his insobriety. Well, what else was new?

<><><><><>

Sirius, Peter and Remus were sitting at breakfast, exchanging only a few words apart from ‘will you pass me that tray?’ The other two moved sluggishly with lidded eyes, but Sirius was restless. He kept shifting in his seat, shaking his knee under the table and taking bites of food too large to chew. When they woke up that morning like a bunch raised from the dead, Remus made it relatively clear that he, in fact, did not recall most of the party, let alone the atomic bomb he dropped to James and Sirius the previous night. James just smacked Sirius’ shoulder in consolation and left for the showers without saying a word.

Sirius needed to tell Remus and he needed to do it soon, or he thought his head might detach itself from his shoulders. Or he might vomit his heart out. Either way, Remus was sitting there, unsuspecting, looking heavenly with his wild bedhead and watery eyes and Sirius couldn’t keep his eyes off him. Thankfully, the others seemingly didn’t notice.

James plopped on the bench next to Sirius, pulling his attention towards himself. He took a double look at Sirius and made a show of scanning him up and down. “Bloody hell, Padfoot. Don’t you look fucking fit this morning?” Sirius immediately caught his drift, Remus’ words from the previous night etched in his brain like a carving. Test the waters a little. He smiled as James clapped him on the shoulder.

“Why thank you, Prongs.”

Remus’ brows furrowed as his eyes flickered between the two boys in front of him, then went back to eating with a puzzled expression.

“Yeah, like your hands and hair. Soft hair,” James corrected himself quickly, “and your earrings. Merlin, don’t get me started on your earrings.” Sirius felt himself blushing rapidly, remembering exactly where those words came from. Remus was gawking at James, hand holding a fork stopping mid-air. He and Peter looked at each other. Peter shrugged.

“Aw, thank you, Prongs. I’m touched.”

“Yeah, you probably will be later tonight,” James mumbled quietly and Sirius choked on his food, covering it up with a cough, then elbowed the boy next to him in the ribs.

“You two tryna tell us something?” Peter squinted at them.

James mock gasped. “Can’t I compliment my best mates?”

“You never compliment me like that. Or Moony,” said Peter.

“Don’t be jealous, Wormy. Everyone knows I’m simply irresistible,” Sirius chimed in, flashing a charming smile. Remus remained suspiciously silent, glancing between the three other boys.

A little while later as James and Peter engaged in a heated discussion about the Hawkshead Attacking Formation, Sirius seized his opportunity. “Hey Moons, you finished? I need to talk to you in the dorm.” Remus nodded and they slipped out of the Great Hall and headed for Gryffindor tower. Sirius was so jittery, he felt like somebody had hooked him up to a power plant and cranked up the voltage. He could easily make an absolute buffoon out of himself if Remus was just mumbling rubbish the previous night. They barely spoke all the way to the common room, except for Remus commenting on his dreadful hangover headache. When they arrived to the dorm, Sirius started unconsciously wringing his hands. Remus plopped on his bed casually and said: “What’d you want to talk about, Pads?”

Sirius sat next to him on the bed, heartbeat through the roof. “Right. Yeah. Right.” He cleared his throat in a pitiful attempt to give himself more time to get the sentence out of his mouth. “Yeah, so... You said something last night. When you were plastered.”

Remus’ face effectively blanched. “What?”

“Well, you were properly pissed, so maybe it was just rubbish...”

“What did I say, Sirius?”

“Okay, so...” He cleared his throat again. “You remember what James said to me when he came to breakfast this morning?” Remus just stared with wide eyes. “Well, basically that... And- and some other things.”

Remus made a face, then flopped face-first into the pillow. “Oh no. What other things?”

Sirius released a nervous chuckle. He started stammering like no bloody aristocrat ever, his effortless confidence long evaporated. Nobody made that happen like Remus. Nobody made that happen except Remus. “Oh, bugger,” were the first coherent words he managed to get out. Remus mumbled a ‘Jesus Christ’ into the pillow.

“You said you wanted to shag me.” The silence was deafening to poor Sirius who awaited an answer. He almost reached out to put a hand on the other boy’s shoulder, when Remus started laughing short, muffled giggles that shook his back. Dread struck Sirius.

“Well. I’m the biggest dumbass in England. Fantastic.”

“Did you not mean it?” His voice must have resonated with worry because Remus finally rolled a little to look at him for the first time in minutes.

“Did you want me to mean it?”

“What if I did?”

“Well that would probably be good, because I’m barely keeping myself from jumping your bones.”

Sirius barked out a laugh followed closely by a sigh of relief. “Yes, I bloody well wanted it.” Remus gingerly pushed himself up into a sitting position. Sirius was slightly unsure what he was supposed to do, and it seemed like the other boy was too. Trying to take initiative, Sirius lifted his hand to place it on Remus’ shoulder, then changed his mind, going for his cheek, but chickened out at the last second and dropped it back on the bed. They laughed awkwardly. “Smooth,” Remus said. “Shut up. I’m nervous,” Sirius replied.

Remus huffed out another laugh and straightened the collar of his dress shirt as he said: “Okay.” He scooted closer to Sirius on the bed and actually put a gentle hand on his cheek. They stared at each other and Sirius felt pure, all encompassing giddiness simmering in his body, making his fingertips tingle. When their lips finally met, the kiss was delicate and tentative, like feet dipping into unknown waters. After a while, they both started smiling against each other’s mouth and Sirius’ heart fluttered with the warmth that consumed him. Feeling bolder, he licked Remus’ lower lip and he responded at once, gliding their tongues together. Oh, okay, boner again, then. When they pulled apart, Sirius said: “Yep, I’m definitely gay.” Remus laughed, bowing his head and resting it on Sirius’ shoulder.

“I’m that good?”

“That you are,” Sirius responded without missing a beat. He brought Remus’ head back up with a hand on his neck, then pushed him backwards onto the bed with a forceful kiss. He threw a leg over the other boy, straddling his hips. Remus mumbled an ‘mmm’ into his mouth.

“As much I want to do this, and trust me, you’ve no idea how much, we have Potions in five minutes,” Remus said, pulling away. Sirius just resumed kissing him, then replied: “I reckon I might last shorter than that.” The tawny-haired boy chuckled, but still pushed him off. “I’d rather do it when we have more time. And I’m not too keen on doing detention tonight, when I could be snogging you in some empty classroom.” Sirius grinned. “I like the way you think, Mr. Moony.”

As they hurried down a corridor, Sirius remembered. “Oh, yeah. One more thing. James was there with me last night when you professed your undying attraction to me.”

“Oh, fuck’s sake.”

I am kinda proud of this, hope you like it as much as I do. I thought it was funny and I just love the idea of the usually overly confident, heartthrob Sirius completely losing his cool around Remus and also awkward teenage boys being dumbasses.

[redsandroses]

Their reaction to getting caught

Bang Chan

You went to the company to bring some food to your boyfriend. But he needed something else. When you walked in, he was recording something. He realised you came and took a long look at you. “come here babygirl” you went into the recording booth. He made you sit on his lap and started a hot make out session. As things were getting heated, JYP came in to check on Chan. You immediately went down and hided. Chan told him some nonsense and made him leave with a suspicion. When you were coming up he said laughing “Don’t worry about that I’ll be fine.” Then suddenly his tone changed “ And I think you can help me with something while you’re down there.”

Lee Minho

He took you to their dorm saying no one will be there for a while. You had a nice dinner, had some fun playing board games then decided to watch a movie. Well as background noise cause after five minutes, you started making out then it turned into him fucking you on the couch. The others decided to come early. They walked in and saw you two. Some of them started laughing and some gagged, which kind of offended you, lol. Chan was trying to get them out of there and he said “For fucks sakes Minho we sit on that couch too.” But it seemed like he didn’t care as he said “You can join if you want.”

Seo Changbin

You were having an online lesson and your boyfriend was on his phone waiting for you to be done. But it wasn’t coming to an end soon and he was bored. He came crawling between your legs. He took your panties aside and started playing with you. you warned him that the camera and the mic was on but he couldn’t care less. He was now adding his tongue and you couldn’t control yourself. You moaned as the whole class could see and hear you. One of your friends said “Looks like someone is having fun while we are suffering here” and they all laughed. You were so emberrased and thanked god your teacher was having connection problems. Changbin heard that too and laughed. “Hope you don’t get suspended or anything baby but isn’t she right huh?” you closed your camera and mic and “I guess you have to make me forget about it now.”

Hwang Hyunjin

You were at your room lying down on your bed talking about stupid things. And you got on top of him as a joke. But he didn’t take that as a joke and flipped you over and kissed you. you warned him your parents are downstairs and your walls are thin but he of course didn’t care. “Then we’ll be quiet” he said as he pushed his fingers in you. You were having the time of your life when you sister came in “I prepared some snacks-, oh sorry sorry you continue I’ll leave” “Fuck Hyunjin, she’s gonna be on my ass for this for the rest of my life now.” “Don’t worry sweetie I’ll talk to her to shut up, you know she adores me.” You couldn’t believe he wasn’t ashamed even a bit.

Han Jisung

You were at his dorm room, cuddling when you felt he was getting hard from your continuous movements. You offered some help “Aaw my baby needs some help doesn’t he?” “ yes your baby is in need of help please.” You told him to go to the edge of the bed as you went down on your knees. You started rubbing him and playing with him, not giving what he needs. He was a whining mess “Y/n pleease take it out and do something, I can’t keep up with this.” You reached to his sweatpants and as you were taking it down Felix came in “What the fuck are these sounds, are you guys fucking in the middle of the day? Some of us are trying to relax please. “ and he left. Han was blushing, he took his head into his hands ashamed. “Don’t be ashamed baby I’ll help you forget it, come on let me see your beautiful face and let me hear those moans.”

Lee Felix

You were in the car with Felix and and all the other members. You were sitting with Felix and Minho. You were bored so you wanted to tease Felix, so you took your hand to his crouch and rubbed it a bit. But he was giving no reaction so you squeezed it. He yelped. You told him “be quiet babyboy do you want your members to find out what an attention whore you are?” he shook his head no. But as you continued your moves under his pants he couldn’t help himself. He accidentaly squeezed Minho’s hand instead of yours. Minho turned “What the fuck man it hurt.” Then his eyes shifted down cause of the bulge. “Jesus fucking christ really y/n now in the car literally right next to me? You two are unbelievable.” Felix was so ashamed he buried his head into your neck but you were surprised when he whispered “please don’t stop y/n I want all of them to know what we’re doing rn.”

Kim Seungmin

You went to an escape house with the members and you got so scared and wanted to get out. Your boyfriend went out with you. you found yourselves a couch and decided to wait the rest there. But your fear wasn’t going away you were still getting goosebumps. You hugged Seungmin but that was not exactly working. You said you needed some kind of distraction. He took that as make me horny and make me cum so he took a blanket on your legs and his hands started doing their job. The members were coming out one by one, they were talking and laughing about you getting out so early then I.N noticed how you were throwing your head back and closing your mouth sometimes and it didn’t take him long to understand the situation. He screamed “Hyungs, these horny people got out for some other reason and Chan hyung isn’t this illegal to do this outside.” They all laughed and gave you two a disgusted look. You were so emberrased, Seungmin stopped what he was doing and hugged you to take away the shame you felt. He offered you a walk seperated from the rest. And assured you that he will kick their asses at the dorm.

Yang Jeongin

You were cuddling with him on the couch at his dorm. Then you turned to him wanting to feel his warm lips. That sudden turn made him blush, now that you were too close. He chuckled.”What, are we doing a staring cont-“ you interrupted him with a kiss. Then things got kind of heated, he was on top of you now, caressing your boobs with his hands. You were so into your make out session that you didn’t hear the door closing. It was Chan who came. He saw you and just clapped and said “Good for you, but maybe take it upstairs you know for “better access”.” I.N layed down as he was hiding and made you get on top of him. “Honey this didn’t really change anything.“ you said. Giving a kiss on his nose. “we can do what he said though, if you want more.” He nodded and you went upstairs.

[not-reagan]

milf: man i love forests

pairing: deforester boo seungkwan x frat boy mirror demon han jisung (side pairing reagan x rainbow)

genre: crack, strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au

warnings: cursing, brief supernatural elements, i don’t know if this applies but all lcase, and i listened to christmas music and abba while writing this

word count: 2.7k

authors note: happy birthday @miyuuraiura !! i am so sorry about this monstrosity being your birthday gift but you asked for it so it's your fault entirely. i was gonna include some context on this story for those who are not rainbow and i but actually i don't think i will.

seungkwan did what he could to get by. he loved nature, he really did, but sometimes you have to make moral sacrifices to survive. he was a college kid strapped for cash, and when he saw a sign reading “GET RICH QUICK, INVEST IN DEFORESTATION” in the summer going into his freshmen year, he jumped at the opportunity. sure, he would have rather been a freelance singer, hired for bar-mitzvahs and children's parties, but that job market was flooded at the moment.

jisung, on the other hand, had no care for nature. actually, he didn't care for any human things, apart from “banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches”. he hated quite a bit about earth, the worst of all to him being college. as a demon, he had no reason to attend university, but after he was summoned in the bathroom of a frat house by the school’s power couple; rainbow and reagan, he felt obliged to follow the two around and keep them company.

for seungkwan, his main job rarely required in person work. he usually just chose plots of land to demolish, and sent plans to local managers. the only time he actually had to knock down any trees himself was during his summer break. he has a part time job of course, but it didn't provide him enough cash to survive. for someone with a job as a deforester, he truly did do what he could to save the environment. he joined his schools environmental club, becoming vice president his sophomore year because of his work with them. he kept his job a secret, not even telling his parents where the influx of cash was coming from. he kept a low profile and went through the motions of life. he didn't have much of a social life, with his small amount of friends being from the environmental club.

han jisung found joy in witnessing his professors and fellow students lose their minds over his lack of effort in class. he did the bare minimum and still passed with flying colors. most of all, it angered his seatmate in earth science, who happened to be none other than boo seungkwan. seungkwan was a hard worker in everything he did, particularly in school. he didn't get the best grades, but by no means was he the worst. averaging a steady B+, seungkwan spent most of his nights studying or working, rarely going to parties and enjoying himself only through one person karaoke rooms.

this fact upset jisung. he didn't know why, but seeing seungkwan so tired every day made him feel sad(? jisung wasn't sure what it made him feel. it was an emotion he had never experienced before. rainbow told him it meant he had a crush. to this he threw an empty soda can at them). not to mention seungkwan’s upsetting karaoke addiction, which he knew all about the danger of because of reagan, who spent most of her weekends drunk and singing. jisung didn’t know why he took such a liking to seungkwan. what he did know was that he was ecstatic to find that they would be paired together for a project. a project that required quite a bit of teamwork, and a lot of after school work sessions.

seungkwan liked to think that he didn’t hate anyone. he hated evil people, like hitler and stalin and jyp, but he didn’t really hate anyone besides the worst of the worst. that was until he experienced jisung. he wasn’t sure why jisung always talked to him when he was trying to take notes in class. he especially wasn’t sure why he was so excited to be partnered up together for the project that was worth 25% of their grade. seungkwan was less than happy to have to cooperate with jisung for an extended period of time, and he was not looking forward to letting him into his dorm room, or going anywhere near jisung’s frat house. seungkwan had no idea what he was pushed into.

they planned to meet at the cafe on campus at 5:00 pm after class. seungkwan was less than happy. jisung was thrilled. when jisung arrived seungkwan was sitting at a table drinking an americano and working on an english essay. he wasn't sure how to approach him, slowly walked closer before tapping on his shoulder. seungkwan jolted in his seat.

��jesus fuck jisung. you scared the crap out of me,” seungkwan gasped. jisung’s ears flushed as he brought his hand to the back if his neck.

“sorry,” he started, pausing for a second before starting again, “why don't we get started?”. he swung his bag down to the ground as he took a seat. seungkwan offered a small, non genuine smile before pulling out the project’s guidelines.

“let's try to finish this as quickly as possible. im pretty busy and don't have much time to fool around.” seungkwan said. jisung felt his heart drop. did seungkwan really think that little of him? granted, he always dozed off in class but he got his work done on time and in an orderly fashion. he felt his mind begin to wander. if seungkwan felt this way about him now, how would he feel when he found out that jisung was a demon. would seungkwan start to like him if he knew him better? jisung couldn't figure out why he cared so much about how seungkwan perceived him. he had never had an issue with others opinions of him before, so what made seungkwan so different? for some reason, jisung felt the need to connect with seungkwan. if not for himself, then at least to help him let loose.

after working silently on each of their portions of the projects for 3 hours, jisung finally spoke up. “do you want to maybe come to my party next month? well, it's not my party, it's for rainbow’s birthday. i know you're not one for social interaction but it would be cool to see you there. i’ll give you the details if-”

“i’d love to go,” seungkwan cut off jisung’s rambling. to be honest, he wasn't exactly sure what he was agreeing to, but he knew it would shut jisung up, and seungkwan valued his peace and quiet. part of him also just felt downright bad for the other. he seemed to be trying awfully hard to become friends with seungkwan, and he wouldn’t admit it, seungkwan had started to warm up to the boy. he really wasn’t as much of an issue as he had thought before, and was actually really respectful of seungkwan’s wishes. maybe i’ll give him a chance, seungkwan thought before going back to his work.

over the next month, jisung and seungkwan continued meeting to work on their project. seungkwan was less short with the other, and jisung was still red faced every time seungkwan decided to talk to him, which became quite frequently over the next few weeks. jisung was starting to realize that the feelings he had for seungkwan were not simply platonic, and that he didn’t just want to be friends with him. with the help of rainbow and reagan, he had come to the conclusion that he really, really liked seungkwan, and that he was going to do something about it. remembering that he had invited seungkwan to the party, he devised a plan to not only tell seungkwan about his whole “i’m actually a demon” thing, but also about his true feelings. it wouldn't be easy, but it was what he had to do.

a month later, seungkwan still wasn’t exactly sure why he had agreed to go to jisungs frat house at 9:00 pm on a saturday night. yet there he was, standing on the front porch of a large house, wondering if he should bite the bullet and walk in, or spare himself and leave right then. he didn't get a choice, however, as rainbow and reagan stepped out of the house giggling while clutching onto each other. both stopped in their tracks when they saw seungkwan. the couple and seungkwan stared at each other for a good minute before seungkwan shook himself from his trance.

“hey rainbow!” seungkwan started, “and reagan too. i know we aren’t super close, but jisung invited me and i thought i’d just drop by and wish you a happy birthday.” he passed her a birthday card filled with $50 bucks and then turned to leave. “i’ll leave you guys now. have a great birthday!” before seungkwan could get very far, however, rainbow grabbed him by the arm.

“hey, i’d love if you’d stay! at least go say hi to jisung. i’m sure he’d like to see you,” she said, silently making note to have jisung pay her back for being a great wingwoman.

“he’s probably hiding in the second floor bathroom. if you don't see him in there, just say his name three times in front of the mirror. he’ll appear.” reagan explained. seungkwan thought she was joking. how wrong he was.

following his entrance to the house, he had to refuse not one, not two, but three different people who were looking to give him bottles or cups of something which seungkwan presumed to be various types of alcohol. navigating through the house was difficult, reaching the stairs to the second floor only after running into numerous people borderline fucking on two large couches in the living room, a smoke circle taking place in what seungkwan assumed to be a dining room, and a very aggressive makeout session against a wall. once he finally reached the second floor, he had some difficulty finding the bathroom, accidentally walking in on reagan and rainbow, who had miraculously made it upstairs faster than he had.

“if you don’t stop shitting constantly i am going to break up with you! also, stop taking feet pics! it’s weird!” he heard rainbow shout.

“at least i can eat seafood! how does it make your head hurt? you’re the weakest link! that fucking seafood platter was delicious. and you know what, i’m glad i didn’t have to share it with you!” reagan responded. seungkwan quickly shut the door, not wanting to get involved in whatever drunken argument was going on there. after a bit more searching, he finally stumbled across the right room. knocking first to see if anyone was in there, he entered, and to his surprise, nobody was there. jisung was nowhere to be seen. seungkwan reviewed his options. he could a) leave the party, or b) continue to look around the packed house. but there was another option. he thought about it for a second.

“what's the harm in trying,” seungkwan thought out loud, before staring directly into the mirror.

“han jisung, han jisung, han jisung.”

nothing happened. that's what seungkwan thought, until a minute later the lights in the bathroom flickered off and the mirror began to glow. “what. the. fuck,” seungkwan managed to squeak out before falling backwards into the tub. first a leg emerged, then two arms, and finally the rest of jisung’s body.

“i feel like the genie in aladin every time i have to get into a fucking mirror,” jisung complained before seeing seungkwan toppled over. to that view, he jumped down off the counter and moved to help him up. seungkwan, aside from falling, seemed to be reacting well to the whole situation, at least in the sense that instead of freaking out he seemed to be in a state of shock. jisung took this as a good sign, and lifted the motionless body up onto the toilet seat.

“hey seungkwan, you there?” jisung waved his hand in front of seungkwan's face as he slowly came to his senses.

“what kind of twisted party trick was that?” seungkwan asked, pretty seriously. jisung just laughed.

“you summoned me from the mirror. i’m like a funny version of michael jackson except i'm a demon and not a man in the mirror.” jisung explained. seungkwan just stared. “are you ok kwan? do you want me to get you some water?”

“it was… kind of sick.” seungkwan stated. he didn't know why he wasn't scared. under any other circumstance like this one, he probably would have shit his pants. for some reason he felt comfortable around jisung. he felt warm. he felt seen. it was something he hadn't felt before. that's when he realized. he wondered why it took himself to long to figure it out. he never hated jisung. he just didn't know what to do with the fact that he made him feel special, and that he felt as though he belonged when they were together. it had hit him why he was so nervous the whole night, why he had wanted to make such a good impression, and why he was willing to embarrass himself by calling out jisungs name as opposed to just choosing to go home. it was because he loved him.

“can i tell you something?” both of the boys said at the same time. jisung giggled and seungkwan flushed red. **authors note! bonus starts here**

“you first,” seungkwan offered. he wasn't exactly sure he would be able to make it through a sentence without getting any redder than he already was.

jisung took this opportunity to finally get his true feelings out into the air, “i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-”

“you're rambling again,” seungkwan told him. jisung flushed a dark shade of pink. “it's a habit of yours. i think it's cute actually.” seungkwan wasn't sure where his sudden surge of confidence came from, but he was glad it came. he was standing up now, holding jisungs hands in his. jisungs heart was racing a mile a minute as he looked down at their intertwined hands and them back up, catching seungkwan looking directly at his lips. “can… can i kiss you?” seungkwan stuttered out. jisung couldn't find his words, so he opted to just nod.

when their lips connected, seungkwan could have sworn he heard fireworks. he did later find out that someone was setting off a firework in the back yard, but it was the thought that counted. their lips melted together perfectly, and seungkwan wondered why it took him so long to admit his feelings to himself. he could have been kissing jisung for a month before this.

once they finally parted, seungkwan spoke softly, “i like you too. i think that's pretty obvious now but just in case you didn't know.” jisung had the dumbest, most confused face on, and seungkwan had the brightest smile he'd ever had. seungkwan had rendered jisung speechless, for once in his life. not long after, they started kissing again, content with their emotions and their new relationship.

seungkwan was never one to believe that good things were permanent. he was overdramatic, stubborn, and hated interacting with people outside his small social circle. that was until han jisung came along. he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he could let someone else into his life.

jisung was a simple man. well, not a man, but he was simple nonetheless. he liked banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches. well maybe there was one more thing he liked. he knew for sure he liked boo seungkwan. maybe he loved him. maybe seungkwan even felt the same way.

-fin

**BONUS**

reagan and rainbow leaned up against the door to eavesdrop on their matchmaking work.

“holy shit!” reagan gasped.

“what is it?? tell me what happened. you're hogging up the door!” rainbow hissed.

“our boy is so grown up,” reagan pretended to cry. “put your goddamn ear up here.” rainbow felt her ear connect with the cold door just as jisung confessed his feelings.

“i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-” his next words were cut off on the girls side of the door as reagan squealed.

“shut your mouth! seungkwans saying something!!” rainbow said, obviously annoyed that reagan was obstructing her ability to hear the exchange.

“can… can i kiss you?” they heard seungkwan say. both looked at each other in shock.

“oh. my. god.” was all rainbow could say.

“i think we should give them some alone time,” reagan suggested as she tugged rainbow down the hall.

“i think we need some alone time for ourselves,” rainbow said as reagan pushed her into a random room and locked the door behind them.

[wonderlustlucas]

the visit - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt “And do what? Watch another horror so you can cry?” ⇢ pairing hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 1.8k ⇢ genre fluff & little smut but not really ⇢ warnings swearing, make out sesh & a little grinding action ⇢ summary “hwang hyunjin x female reader. Genre is up to you, please (fluff/smut) ~ Theme - Hyunjin and his s/o are watching a horror movie. And s/o laughs a lot, being rational and isn't scared at all. While Hyunjin is ehh a scared drama queen? haha”—request ; friends to lovers!au

You’re beginning to think inviting Hyunjin to your dorm to watch The Visit with you wasn’t the best idea.

It’s not like you had many other choices. With your roommate having gone home for the weekend and Hyunjin’s dorm only a few doors down, it was your best option. And on the typical occasion, you wouldn’t be complaining; usually, you are more than happy to spend time with one of your newer friends who not only makes you smile so hard it hurts, but also happens to be ridiculously handsome. You know. As a plus.

You should have guessed that Hyunjin isn’t a horror kind of person. Seriously— he’s a pretty rose-colored glasses, happy-go-lucky guy. So why he agreed to watch one such movie with you in the first place is beyond your level of judging expertise.

You’re trying to not get ahead of yourself.

Hyunjin lets out an audible gasp when it is revealed who the ‘grandparents’ truly are. You can’t help but pause the movie, trying to stifle a laugh. “Are you for real?” You ask, turning to look at him. “You didn’t realize who they were?” Somewhere in the back of your head, you take note of how unfairly cute he looks right now, lying on his stomach beside you with his face smooshed into one of your pillows.

“Um, no?” He scoffs like it’s the most reasonable thing ever, sending you an unamused glare.

“You’re dense.”

You start to feel bad as the movie draws closer to its end. To you, the movie is stupid; totally predictable and you can’t stop laughing. Hyunjin, on the other hand, is not having as fun of a time. Clearly frightened—or, maybe just overwhelmed—by the sudden and rather aggressive turn of events, he finds it much more disturbing and you begin to find yourself focusing more on the way he keeps flinching rather than the movie.

“Okay,” you finally quip, slapping your laptop closed, “I think that’s enough.”

“What?” Hyunjin hollers, leaning up on his elbows. “What are you doing?”

“You’re clearly freaked out, Hyunjin. You should have just told me you didn’t like horror movies and stayed in your dorm,” grumbling, you miss the hurt that flashes across his face when you reach back to retrieve your phone.

“Then I wouldn’t get to see you,” he admits, keeping his gaze glued on you as you come back down next to him. You momentarily forget how to breathe, heat making its way up your neck to settle on your cheeks. He can’t help but smile to himself at the reaction.

“Well,” you cough, “we could have watched something else.”

“No matter how disturbing it is,” Hyunjin hums, reopening your laptop, “I have to see how it ends.”

Reluctant, you look to him with a frown and momentarily wonder if he’s trying to prove something. You certainly hope not. Before you can even make sure he really wants to continue, Hyunjin offers the softest of smiles for reassurance and you can’t help but send one back. He simply has that effect. With one last sigh, you quickly type in your password and reposition yourself; this time, a little closer to him. “Fine,” you sigh, continuing the movie, “but if you cry or something, I’m going to laugh.”

He doesn’t cry. In fact, he’s stiff as a board, face devoid of emotion as he keeps his eyes glued to the screen. It isn’t until you shift to rest your head on his arm does the smallest of smiles appear on his lips. And before you know it, the movie is ending and you realize you have spent the last twenty minutes or so transfixed on Hyunjin rather than the film’s conclusion. Oh well.

“That was interesting,” you offer. You’re not sure what to think at the moment. A part of you likes to believe one too many lines were crossed this evening for friends who only met at the beginning of this semester, but the more reasonable side is convinced Hyunjin would never see you as anything more than that. Friends.

“I think you’re a liar,” Hyunjin quips unexpectantly, brows furrowed when you whip back to face him. “I think you’re scared, but you just play it off and laugh ‘cause you don’t want to blow the little façade you got going.”

You scoff, leaning back on an elbow to regard him. “I’ve seen some scary movies, Hyunjin, but this definitely wasn’t one of them. Get the hell out of here.”

“But I wanted to stay,” he whines with a pout of his lips. Fuck, if you were knee-deep in shit before, you might as well be drowning now. “And do what? Watch another horror so you can cry?” You challenge like always, blowing off what could be flirting because it just seems too outrageous to you. “No,” Hyunjin frowns, suddenly serious and it turns your blood to ice.

“What, then?” You laugh airily, looking away for the sake of your own sanity and watching the movie’s credits intently. The silence is deafening, dragging on for so long you begin to fear that he can hear how heavily your heart is beating. Finally, you muster up the courage to look back at Hyunjin who, to your surprise, seems to have been regarding you quietly the entire time. “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” Hyunjin asks in a rush.

“What?” You blurt, nearly choking on the air you heave and staring back at him with wide eyes. “Why would you want to do that?”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, deserting his pillow in favor of sitting up to lean against the wall. “Do you want the confession version or the dirty version?” He asks like it means nothing at all, the corners of his eyes scrunched in amusement. You nearly choke—again.

“Dirty?” You repeat, bewildered. At this point, you must have died and gone to heaven to hear Hwang Hyunjin even utter such words. You scramble to sit up, keeping a safe distance from the boy talking absolute buffoonery at you.

“My friends were talking about you,” he starts, and instantly the alarms begin ringing in your brain. Hyunjin is one thing, but his friends? They’re an entirely new level of terrifying, and the fact that he’s using plural friends has your heart racing. “No, no, no. I actually don’t wanna know,” you interrupt, waving your hands for him to stop and opting to look at the now dark screen of your laptop.

Hyunjin ignores you. “They’ve been talking about your ass for weeks now after you wore this one pair of jeans, and it’s driving me absolutely nuts because, yeah, your ass is great, but it also made me realize how possessive I feel about you. I don’t think I can handle another day listening to them wonder ‘what that mouth do,’ because now I can’t help but wonder, and it’s fucking me up because I really like you and I love spending time with you but then you’ll do some nonchalant shit like… just the way you leaned back. It makes my head spin. And I hate knowing anyone else is thinking of you the way I do. But like, if you don’t feel the same way and don’t want to kiss me, I get it. We’re probably just a bunch of horny teenage boys to you, and I don’t know why you would want me of all—”

“Jesus Christ, shut up,” you groan, hastily waddling on your knees until you’re close enough to swing a leg over his lap and cup his face in your hands. For a moment, you hesitate—pausing to look him in the eyes and wondering whether you should offer some sort of confession in return. Later, you decide. Because right now, whether it’s from the words that just left his mouth or simply how delectable he looks up close, giving Hyunjin a damn kiss is your best option.

It’s nothing more than a peck—once, twice, three times, on the fourth, however, Hyunjin finally seems to come to his senses. With one hand sliding up your back to press you closer and the other coming to cradle your jaw and angle it to his liking, three simple pecks quickly evolve into much more. And for the time being, you’re entirely lost in the plushness of his lips and the taste of his tongue and the fire his touch leaves behind as he reaches for everything but nothing all at once.

“Hyunjin,” you squeak out without even meaning to. You hadn’t even meant to stop kissing him, but here you are, fingers twisting in his shirt and body throbbing with a need you did not think you would feel tonight. “Yes?” He hums, making his way down your neck with the way you tilt back for him, littering your skin with pillowy kisses in between the small bruises he sucks along the way.

“Shit, I don’t know,” you manage breathlessly, subconsciously trying to wrap your legs around his hips so that the slow roll of your core against him does more to satisfy your growing desire. “You have a problem down there?” Hyunjin whispers, noticing the determined movement and dropping a hand buried in your hair to grip at your thigh, thumb tapping at your clothed center, just a few centimeters below your most sensitive nerves. Still, it has electricity coursing through your veins and you nod hastily, lifting your hips to try and position yourself so his thumb presses into your clit.

Realizing what you are trying to do, Hyunjin clicks his tongue and moves his hand further away, stifling a laugh when you whimper. “Jesus, ___, what happened to you? I didn’t expect you to be so needy,” the fucker giggles, lifting you by the hips to guide you into spinning around and sitting between his legs, back now pressed to his chest.

“I didn’t expect Hwang Hyunjin of all people to tell me he’s possessive of me,” you retort despite how lightheaded you feel with the way his hands roam, one hand dipping under your sweatshirt to slide over the warm skin of your stomach and give your breast a squeeze; the other trailing over the waistband of your shorts.

“It’s true,” Hyunjin sighs dreamily, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Instinctively, you drop your head against his shoulder and tilt to kiss the curve of his neck, unable to fight your smile. “Before we do anything though, ___, I have to know,” he clears his throat, fingers finally slipping beneath the fabric of your shorts and underwear, “is this going to be a one-time thing?”

This question in itself is enough to sober you from the desire clouding your mind. Leaning up just enough so you can twist around and look him in the eyes, you offer Hyunjin a reassuring smile before anything else.

“No,” you answer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “we still have so many horror movies to watch together.”

[mochirou]

a fun holiday break

krbk

masterlist

•♡•

tags: getting together, sickfic, hurt/comfort(?)

tw (unintentional) dehydration and starving

A/N: this was in my drafts and i realized i never posted it. yes i am aware this is very very self indulgent and i’m only slightly sorry

•♡︎•

“Yo, has anyone seen Bakugo lately? He disappeared like… right after Christmas. It’s been two days.” Kaminari tilted his head questioningly, making eye contact with some of the other students sitting in the common room. Everyone gave him shrugs and noncommittal noises, clearly not that concerned about it.

“It’s nice around here without him, no yelling. Dunno about you guys, but I like my winter break better when he’s not here.” Mineta punctuated his statement by popping a candy in his mouth, and the rest of the class fell silent. Some looked at Kirishima nervously, who had definitely heard what Mineta said. He was staring out the window blankly. He didn’t even react, he just pressed his lips together tighter.

“I’m checking on him, don’t wait for me.” As he said that, quiet conversation started back up, and the tension was relieved when he stormed out of the common room.

When he stepped into his dorm room, he didn’t see Bakugo. His bed was unmade and it was a total mess, blankets piled up haphazardly. Weird, he doesn’t like leaving his bed like that. Thinks only lazy people don’t keep their rooms clean. He moved further in to check if he was in the bathroom, but was stopped short by a weak snarl coming from under the blanket pile.

“Bakugo?” He crept closer to the bed, hyper aware of the fact that he might’ve wanted to be alone, in which case he was intruding.

“Get the fuck outta my room, asshole.” His reply was barely audible and watery, as if he’d been crying before he walked in.

“Not until I know you’re alright. You haven’t come downstairs to get food, have you even eaten since I last saw you?”

“None of your goddamn business, Kirishima.” He let out a quiet sob, and the blanket mound shifted a little. He still couldn’t see Bakugo, so he moved to sit on the floor at the head of his bed. His face was the only thing exposed, and it was deathly pale and sweat covered. His face was twisted in a half-grimace with his eyes closed, and he was violently shaking under the covers.

“Holy shit dude, are you okay?” Kirishima went to feel his forehead on instinct, and he didn’t even flinch or try to bat his hand away. He just squeezed his eyes shut further, and made a whimpering noise at him.

“You’re ice cold, why haven’t you gone to Recovery Girl?”

“...On vacation, remember? Just… go away.” He then pulled his face into the sheets.

“I’ll be right back.” Kirishima quickly walked out the door, disappearing in a flash.

When he came back, he was holding a thermos of pot roast and a glass of water. He set the things he brought on the nightstand, and he saw that he’d poked his face out.

“I’m not leaving till you eat.” He sat back down in his spot on the floor, and Bakugo opened his eyes to see what he’d brought.

“No.”

“Why not? I’ve seen you eat this before, and you… uh… didn’t say it was shit, so I assumed you at least tolerate it. What’s up?” Kirishima tilted his head questioningly at him, and edged a bit closer. His stomach growled loudly, enough for him to hear.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes and started struggling to sit up with a grunt of effort, but his arm gave out on him and he flopped back onto the bed.

“I’m so fucking pathetic, can’t even do this.” He instead opted to curl up into a ball and dry sob.

“Um… When’s the last time you drank anything?” Kirishima made a concerned face, and scooched even closer to the side of the bed, until he wasn’t even a step away from it.

“How… How long have I been away?” He glanced at the clock, as if that’d give him a clue to what day it was.

“Have you not gotten up once since you laid down?” Kirishima gasped, almost sounding offended.

“No… No energy.” He stuttered, shaking his head slightly.

“Not even to go to the bathroom?”

“Haven’t needed to.”

Oh shit, he’s dehydrated, he thought. I need to get him to drink some water right now.

“That’s it.” Kirishima stood up suddenly at that.

“What the fuck-“ He had started crawling over Bakugo, to the side against the wall.

“Can I?” He gestured to the thick layer of blankets that he was kneeling on, asking permission to join him under them. He huffed at him, but he didn’t say no, so he pulled off the hoodie he was wearing. He didn’t have a shirt underneath, and a little bit of color returned to Bakugo’s face.

“Jesus Christ, I’m- What’s that for, idiot?” He growled weakly.

“I’m warming you up, you can’t feel my body heat as well through a hoodie.” He pulled a particularly fluffy blanket off the top of the pile, and wrapped it around himself.

“I’m gonna put you on my lap and help you sit up, that okay?” He didn’t respond but Kirishima knew that if he didn’t want to, he’d say so. He peeled back the sheets, exposing his shivering body, and picked him up so he could move to sit with his legs over the side of the bed.

Then Kirishima pulled Bakugo into his lap, and immediately started spooning him from behind. He wrapped the blanket around him, making sure to close up all the gaps, and rested his chin on his shoulder. When he pulled him closer, he involuntarily shuddered at how cold he was. He could feel it through Bakugo’s thin tank top and boxers, and they were slightly damp with sweat. He was shaking violently, but as Kirishima’s body heat seeped into him, it slowly stopped.

“D’you wanna try drinking some water now? I’ll hold you up, you’ll be okay.” Kirishima gently squeezed around his torso, shuffling up the bed till he was within reach of the things he brought.

“Um… yeah… thanks.” His voice got quieter with each word, and he could barely hear the last ‘thanks’. Kirishima was stunned by the change in demeanor. Normally he would say something like “I’m not a kid, stop patronizing me, asshole”, but he accepted his help without complaint. He leaned over to reach for the glass, then handed it to Bakugo. He took a mouthful of water and swished it around for a second before swallowing, then he chugged the entire glass in one go.

“Want me to go get more water?” Bakugo nodded wordlessly, so he moved him off his lap and got up.

“Heh, try not to miss me too much.” Bakugo simply fell over in response, and he went on his way to get water. He stopped by his room first, to grab the large bottle he brings with him when he trains. Midoriya stopped him to ask if everything was okay, but he just waved him off and said it was fine.

When he returned, he came back to Bakugo with his face buried in his hoodie. He was half asleep with his eyes closed, and making small satisfied noises whenever he inhaled. God, he’s so adorable… That was all he was thinking while he watched him from the doorway, spotting a small but genuine smile on his face. He was sure that he didn’t know he was there, and he decided to save him the embarrassment. He walked quietly to the end of the hallway, then purposely stepped heavily to alert him that he was coming. Sure enough, when he poked his head back in, his hoodie was (vaguely) in the same place he left it.

“Hey, Bakugo, I got you more water…” He put it down next to the food, and then sat back on the edge of the bed. Bakugo stayed laying down but moved his head near Kirishima’s hip, so he could pick him up easier.

“Can you get up yourself?”

“Yeah, fuck off.” He then propped himself up shakily, Kirishima wrapped his arms around his torso, and lifted him into a sitting position on his lap. He re-wrapped them in a thick blanket, then pulled Bakugo’s back flush against his chest.

“Mm… Warm…” Bakugo mumbled sleepily, and relaxed against him.

“I put the food in a thermos, so it should still be hot.” Kirishima handed it to him, and stayed silent while he ate. It was gone within a couple of minutes, he ate and drank like he hadn’t eaten in days (which, coincidentally, was what had happened).

“Wanna watch a movie?” Kirishima eyed Bakugo’s laptop that was sitting on his desk, while he finished off the food.

“What fuckin’ ever, do what you want. ‘M tired.” He leaned back on Kirishima with his entire body weight, relaxing completely against him.

“...Dude, I need to get up. To put on the movie.”

“Sounds like an iss-you, not an iss-me.” Kirishima made a complaining noise at that, and he reluctantly laid down and moved off. It took a couple minutes to pick a movie, he settled for some random American movie, dubbed in Japanese.

“Hey, why don’t you have a password on here? Isn't that unsafe?”

“People don’ touch it if they know what’s good for ‘em.” After pressing play, he moved back to the bed, and sat down on the edge.

It took a bit before Kirishima realized that Bakugo was still shaking, and making quiet whimpering noises. He didn’t want to push his luck and risk setting him off, especially since he was probably feeling a bit more like his usual self. He was sitting at the foot of the bed, waiting for the eventual “get the fuck out of my room” he was expecting.

“Uh… Are you… okay?” He asked tentatively, with the least patronizing tone he could muster.

“It’s kinda cold in here, ‘M fine.” He pulled his blanket pile up further on his body, and looked straight ahead at the movie playing on his laptop.

Shit, how do I get him to accept help?

“Yeah, I’m cold too. Can I have one of your blankets?” He said in a sly tone of voice, and prayed that Bakugo had picked up on what he was trying to do.

“Fuck no, you crazy? As if. I guess we could share. Y’know, so I don’t have to give up any blankets.” He accompanied the sentence with an eye roll. That was all the invitation Kirishima needed, and he slid himself under the sheets with him. Bakugo immediately turned around and pushed Kirishima onto his back, then settled his body against him with a contented sigh. He rested his head right on his chest, and tangled their legs together. They were sitting up at an angle, with the pillows supporting Kirishima’s back.

“Um… Bakugo…” Kirishima stammered, taken by surprise by his sudden pushy affection. Bakugo was silent for a couple of seconds, lost in thought about something. Kirishima snaked his hands in under his arms and around his torso, and he made a small noise of happiness.

“Actually, it’s Katsuki for you now. Uh… If you want to. It’s whatever, do what you want.” He lifted his head up to look at Kirishima nervously. What he saw was a bright red face, and wide eyes.

“I… You can call me Eijiro, too. I’d like that.” He managed to get through the entire sentence without messing up, and he thanked whatever higher power was watching over him at the moment.

“Katsuki…” The way he said it was almost reverent, his voice laden with quiet awe. He made eye contact with him, and gave him a small smile.

“Eijiro…” He shifted up a little so they were at eye level, and he was sitting on his lap. He rested one of his hands in the crook of his neck, and pressed their foreheads together.

“Kiss me.”

Their first kiss was soft and sweet and slow, both of them taking their time. The movie was long forgotten, in favor of lazily making out. Kirishima’s hands found their way to Bakugo’s back, running fingers lightly over his skin. The feeling made him whine into the kiss, and squeeze Kirishima’s hips in appreciation.

“That feels good,” He mumbled against Kirishima’s lips. His body went weak, and he melted against him with a little “mmph” noise. That just encouraged him to kiss harder, giving him a tight hug around the waist.

“‘M gettin’ tired…” At that, Bakugo pressed one last kiss to Kirishima’s mouth, and settled back down onto his chest.

“Your skin’s so soft,” He muttered quietly. He pushed his face into him a little and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth radiating off him.

“God, you’re cute.” As soon as Kirishima said that, he stiffened, clearly not meaning to say that out loud. Bakugo just hummed contentedly in response.

He was only paying a little bit of attention to the movie. It was some old superhero flick, from the time before quirks started manifesting. The guy could shrink and control ants or something, for all Bakugo knew. Kinda weird, in his opinion. But he was safe, loved, comfortable, with someone he trusts taking gentle care of him.

...Kinda sucks that I had to be fuckin’ miserable as shit to get here, though.

That was the last thought he had before he finally stopped fighting his exhaustion, letting the warmth and Kirishima’s breathing lull him to sleep.

•♡︎•

A/N: watch kiri catch whatever bakugo has and get sick as hell from that kiss, then get called an idiot by bakugo even though it was his idea

masterlist • more hurt/comfort

taglist: @friendly-neighborhood-pan @burn-the-witch-now @koifishkiss @plusultrachaos @sillysaladtrash @demumbrigde @worst-bunny @nebula--system @neko-mancy @rxtprince

feel free to ask to be added/removed from the taglist!

[earthh2jadee]

first kiss  -3-

Pairings: Izuku Midoriya, Eijirou Kirishima, Katsuki Bakugo, Shouto Todoroki, Kaminari Denki x reader

Authors note: the loneliest thing is writing about kisses when you never had a first kiss yourself ヽ(；▽；)ノ sorry that todoroki’s is a little short and kaminari’s is a little long...TwT also if my school friends find this i will yeet myself- ANYWAY ENJOY HHH

Warnings: cursing and kissing (duh)

THESE GIFS ARE NOT MINE, CREDITS GO TO THEIR RESPECTFUL OWNERS

RULES

Izuku Midoriya

you kissed him 2 months into dating (technically he kissed you but juST KEEP READING-)

It was your 2 month anniversary and he made sure the day was super special

He got you all of your favorite stuff, and ended the day at the garden where you first met

You two were just talking, and you realized how much Izuku was staring at your lips

you just stopped talking, and he started to lean in

In the past you’ve only kissed each other on the cheek or the nose, so this was really new to him

He was too nervous so he just have you a small kiss that lasted about a second

After, you just stared at him

“I-i’m sorry! I thou-thought tha-”

You interrupted him by smashing your lips onto his

flustered goes up 10000%

This was his real, first kiss, so he was really confused on what to do

On the first few seconds he had his eyes wide open, but he melted into the kissed and closed his eyes

He started to put his hand on your cheek, pulling you closer

You finally pull away, slightly gasping

“I love you izu.” “I love you too y/n.”

Eijirou Kirishima

He kissed you before dating

You guys were best friends since elementary school

Recently, Mina and Denki have been saying that Kirishima had a crush on you

You liked him too, but you didn’t want to believe the rumours in case they weren’t true

One day, you two were both chilling on a couch at his house

He was cracking a few jokes and you were laughing at them

He looked at that smile that he loved since 1st grade

He couldn’t help it and just leaned in and kissed you out of the blue

It took you by surprise, but you melted into it 

Ironically, his kisses are soft and sweet

He likes wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him

He kisses you until your face is as red as his crimson hair

After you pulled apart, you didn’t know what to do at first, so you just sat awkwardly

Slowly, you got closer to him and cuddled into his side, and he gave you his dorky grin

“so, the rumours are true?” “Yup.” “Good, cuz I have a crush on you too.”

You started dating shortly after

Katsuki Bakugo

You kissed him after 3 weeks into dating

You started secretly dating two weeks before he was kidnapped by the league of villains

When Kirishima formed the team to save Bakugo, he didn’t think to invite you since he didn’t know you were dating

yeah, you were pissed when you realized that they didn’t invite you

When he came back to UA, you were one of the first people that came to him

He was hanging out with the bakusquad (which you were part of) when you came up to him

“Hey Y/N, I-” and then you punched him in the ribs

“Ow! Y/N what the fuc-” He said before you smashed your lips onto his in front of all his friends

He was surprised at first, but he then wrapped his arms around your hips, deepening the kiss

His kisses aren’t soft or hard, its somewhat near the middle

The kiss seemed to last for hours, but you finally broke apart

“Don’t you ever fucking disappear again.” “Yes ma’am”

bro the bakusquad was so shook 

“OH MY GOD ARE YOU GUYS DATING?!?” said literally the whole bakusqad at the same time-

They obviously spread the news with literally everyone

I guess yall arent secretly dating anymore right?-

SHOUTO TODOROKI

He kissed you a month into dating

On your first month of dating, he would occasionally peck your cheek, nose, or forehead

He always seemed uncomfortable about showing affection, and you respected that

One day, you went to go get groceries for everyone and you saw all the shoppers looking at the TV

You saw that Endeavor was fighting a Nomu, and you immediately raced back to UA to get to Todoroki

You got to the dorms and saw him sitting on the ground, panting, while the other students tried to calm him down

You moved everyone out of the room to give him space and wrapped your arms around him, covering him with kisses (except on the mouth)

He slowly started to calm down and he told you everything about his family

You listened to him and was there to comfort him

“Thanks y/n, you’ve always been there for me when I needed you...”

He tilted your chin up, “I’m going to kiss you, is that okay?” “U-Uhm, okay-”

His kisses are soft and firm, it takes him a while to start touching you while kissing

He learns to put his hand of your cheek or hold your waist and pull you in

“I love you so much y/n, more than you ever know.” “I love you too Todo, more than anything.”

Denki Kaminari

You kissed him before dating

You, Kaminari, and a bunch of other 1A students were sitting in a circle and playing truth or dare (oh boy)

Kirishima had to make out with a wall, Iida had to be rude to a teacher, and Ochako confessed to Midoriya

And the night was only beginning

Mina picked you, and you chose dare

“Well, I dare you to kiss your crush!” She grinned

Coincidentally, Kaminari was sitting right next to you

You’ve liked Kaminari ever since the first day of school, he was sweet and energetic and he always made you laugh

You sighed, trying to seem nonchalant while you were panicking inside, “Alright, fine.”

You smashed your lips onto his, holding his face in case he resisted

You were suprised that he didn’t, and that you felt him wrap his arms around your hips

You broke apart to breath, and he went back for more

His kisses are soft, but can get sensual fast

He also has a habit of smiling against your lips

“oKay fUCkiNg hEll knOck iT oFF i dIdnT aSk fOR yOU tO maKe oUt jeSus-” Mina scrEECHED

Then you finally broke apart, and you felt a little shock from him

You started dating soon after

[eternalgoldfish]

u got me so horny (part one) | (part two) | (part three) | (part four) | (part five) | (part six) | (part seven) | (now all on AO3)

Steve wakes in Billy’s bed.

Steve never wakes in Billy’s bed.

But the sun is shining, and Steve’s eyes are crusted with sleep, and Billy’s back is warm and solid where it’s pressed against his, their legs touching, Billy’s dorm-issued twin-sized bed hardly large enough for one full-grown man, let alone two. Steve doesn’t remember getting under the covers, or Billy wishing him goodnight.

But the sun is shining, and Steve wonders what Billy would do if Steve rolled over an tucked an arm around his waist, pressed kisses into his neck. Steve wonders what Billy would do if Steve curled them together and called him baby.

They’re wearing underwear, so at some point, they got out of bed. 

It’s not that Steve doesn’t remember anything. He remembers sitting in Billy’s car -- almost jerking off in Billy’s car. He remembers whining against Billy’s lips with Billy inside him -- Billy’s hot thighs between Steve’s legs, Billy’s fingernails digging into Steve’s hips.

He remembers falling on Billy, which. The universe couldn’t have let him get away with one bit of dignity in all that, huh? 

Up until that point, he thought he’d been doing pretty fucking well, thank you very much.

Billy’d laughed and laughed, and pulled Steve on his side, and jerked Steve off until Steve was gasping and coming, toes curling, feeling drunk, and eager, and toomuchnotenoughpleasedon’tstop.

There’s just a gap in time there, clearly, because fucking into Billy’s fist doesn’t equate to waking up in his sheets.

So, Steve stays like that, back to back with Billy, wonders how much time he has until Billy wakes up, asks him to leave. Wonders how it could go if he pressed a kiss to Billy’s shoulder, danced his fingers over Billy’s arm hair, flicked his foot a certain way. Unlikely butterfly theory shit, and all that. 

Then Billy fucking rolls over and wraps an arm around him, giving him a sleepy squeeze. “Dude, why’re you still here?” Billy asks.

And that’s a fucking mixed signal, Jesus Christ. But Steve has been thinking exactly the same thing, so, “If you didn’t want me to stay--”

“What?” Billy lets go of him and sits up, rubbing his hands over his face. His bun is a lop-sided disaster, but the pendent resting against his chest is gold. “It’s Friday,” he says. “You have economics at ten, or whatever, don’t you?”

And Steve does, but.

“Fuck,” Steve gets out of bed and scrabbles for his phone in his jeans, says, “Fuck,” because it’s nine forty-two.

“Bye?” Billy offers.

“Fuck.”

---

Steve’s skipped classes before, but the thing is, his mom has been wild lately about his grades, and he’s kind of bombing economics, so it’s kind of fucking important that he gets there on time, and that he actually fucking listens and takes notes, and behaves.

He’s five minutes late, but he gets there, which is kind of the point.

Not that his mind is on economics.

He’s too hung over, too weirdly wired. There’s something under his skin that he can’t itch, and for once it’s not his dick chubbing up in his jeans because Billy is sending him nudes before lunchtime. 

(Although his phone does keep lighting up, so.)

(He thinks it’s maybe his heart chubbing up, and that’s definitely not good for his cholesterol, or the sticky notes left on Billy’s door, or what he’s supposed to tell his parents when they ask about his love life at Christmas.)

When he checks his phone, there are no nudes, just two texts that say,

found ur thong princess

goin 2 jerk off w it

And Steve has no fucking clue what he could have even left at Billy’s, but it definitely wasn’t a thong. He actually doesn’t even think it’s anything, just another one of Billy’s weird ways of making him fuck up in class, but it still twists something in Steve’s chest, something weird-bad. Like thinking about Billy’s other guys when they fuck -- and other girls, apparently, girls who wear thongs, so.

Steve texts back, Not mine, sorry, must be your mom’s. 

Billy doesn’t text back a long while, so like, maybe he’s blown his load, or maybe he just thinks Steve is boring for not playing along. Whatever. Steve has like, actual things he needs to be doing.

But with half an hour left in class, Steve’s phone finally lights up, like, My mom left when I was ten.

And well. What? What? Steve didn’t know that, doesn’t even know how Billy feels about that, like, if he’s angry, or upset, or fucking like, anything. He tries to scroll up through their conversations looking for an answer, but he’s coming up with nothing, just raunchy one-liners and sweaty dick picks. Billy’s barbed wire and crucifix, sandy skin, golden hair.

He doesn’t know a fucking thing about Billy. 

How Billy’s dick tastes doesn’t count.

---

Steve doesn’t know what to say, so he just doesn’t. Like a fucking coward. He slinks to the library after class like maybe things’ll just work out if he lets them cook for a while. Like maybe all the weirdness from this morning will gloss over if he pretends it didn’t happen.

No cigar.

Billy flops into the chair across the table from him like this is nothing, normal, and Steve guesses it is, because they do study together, sometimes, but not together-together, so. Billy’s not even taking out his books, just tipping his head slightly and running his tongue over his teeth.

“Sorry?” Steve offers, like a moron.

Billy scrunches up his nose. “Sorry for what?”

And Steve doesn’t really know, so. 

After a pause, Billy huffs and pushes back his hair. He’s got tacky diamond studs in his ears, the kind that make Steve want to tug on them with his teeth, see what they’re really made out of. Billy crosses his arms, says, “Guess I didn’t tell you about my fucked up family, then?” and they might as well be in the fucking Twilight Zone.

“No, uh,” Steve clears his throat, winces slightly. “We haven’t really had time?” Between all fucking. Yikes.

“Well,” Billy sneers, like, “My mom flaked, my dad is an abusive asshole, my step-mom might as well be a cardboard cut-out of a human, and my step-sister is a huge fucking bitch. I don’t want to talk about it.”

The thing is, in person, Steve can’t just leave Billy on read when he doesn’t know what the fuck to say, so he’s stuck just kind of staring, mouth partly open, running through all the whats and whys and hows. Processing months knowing Billy, fucking Billy after a party, waking up in Billy’s arms, and now whatever the fuck this is.

“You know what, fuck this.”

“Wait--” Steve snaps his books shut as Billy gets to his feet. “Sorry? Just. Sorry, I guess. Fuck. I just didn’t know what to say to that earlier, you know? A thong? That text might not have even been for me.”

“Who else could it have fucking been for?”

“I don’t know? Someone else you’re--”

Billy laughs, kind of mean. “I’m not hooking up with anyone else, you idiot. What was it you said, I ‘haven’t really had time’? I could have had anyone I wanted at that party.”

And Steve knows that, even though Billy is contradicting himself. Knowing it’s not making it any fucking better. Kind of just makes Steve want to die.

“But you wanted to fuck me.”

“Yeah, I wanted to fuck you.”

They’re talking way too loud for being in the quiet study zone.

“Do you want to fuck me right now?”

“I kind of want to punch your face in.”

Steve lets out a slow breath. “Cool, so we’re just back in fucking September again.”

Billy snatches his keys from where he threw them on the table and grabs his bag from the floor. “Shut the fuck up, come on.”

But Billy doesn’t punch him when they get outside the building, like he might have in September. He crowds Steve up against the wall, pushes Steve’s shoulders until his head hits brick. With the way the stairs jut out, there is just enough space between them and the hedges that they probably won’t get seen, and Steve’s worried about no one finding his corpse for about five seconds before Billy’s lips are on his, kisses all clicking teeth and fingers digging into his sweater.

It should make him angry.

It’s kind of erotic.

(It’s kind of confusing, but Billy’s slipping his hand into his sweatpants, and they’re kind of in public, and Steve really doesn’t need a criminal history, but)

He bucks against Billy’s palm, wants his hands on Billy’s skin. Wants to think this is maybe a solution, with Billy’s teeth grazing over his neck, Billy laughing softly in his ear.

“You like to get off in public?” he asks, and Steve is pretty positive he’s shut that down about a million times, but Billy’s kissing him in earnest, playing with his cock, and well.

Steve can’t exactly hide how fucking hard he is when things are already this far gone.

“You got something to say to me, Pretty Boy?”

Steve tugs on Billy’s hair. “Like what?”

“A sorry, maybe, since I’m being so forgiving.”

“I said sorry,” but it’s shaky, kind of airy. “If the campus police--”

“Guess you better be quick, then.”

And Billy is confusing, disgusting, infuriating, gorgeous, and Steve is a complete dumbass, so he whines, “C’mon, I’ll blow you in my room--” which absolutely does not work.

“Or you could blow me here.”

Which Steve is definitely not going to do, but the idea makes his breath catch, has him moaning softly as Billy tugs on his bottom lip. Faintly, he realizes he had more resolve when he was drunk than he does now, and that’s not something he really wants to investigate, not when he’s unzipping Billy’s jeans and jerking Billy in return, heart thumping and skin tingling each time the library door opens and slams shut.

Billy’s teeth are on his cheek, breathing hot in his ear, murmuring, “Someone is going to hear you,” like Billy isn’t also making noise with every breath, fucking into Steve’s hand like they’re on a clock. Like he’s trying to get Steve’s hand fucking pregnant.

“Sorry,” Steve says, mostly a gasp. “Sorry, sorry.”

Meaningless. Billy doesn’t need it, can’t with how smug he is when Steve comes first, with how he almost breaks their cover laughing when he wipes Steve’s come on the inside of Steve’s sweatpants. He comes with his nose in Steve’s neck, hands gripping Steve’s hips, and it’s. 

Well, it’s kind of mortifying.

But Billy is laughing again, knocking away Steve’s hand so he can fix himself back in his jeans, and Steve should be angry, but.

“What was that about blowing me on your rich boy sheets?” Billy asks.

They have to change their pants now anyway.

[vin-taege]

low expectations | 3

summary: after disappearing for six years to pursue law, you come back to Seoul, only to be hired by Jeon Jungkook, tattoo artist on the rise, and your high school ex

genre: angst, eventual smut, l2e2l (lovers to enemies [kinda?] to lovers)

pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x lawyer!reader

words: 3k+

note: i am back

"Mmm holy shit, I missed bread," You stared at Taehyung, who was shamelessly stuffing croissant after croissant in his face. Jimin sipped his latte awkwardly. Jungkook was back in his usual reserved state, silent, though visibly disturbed by Taehyung's lack of table etiquette. The whole table was captivated by the tattoo artist's seemingly never ending appetite, and at this point, Jungkook began to regret letting him borrow his credit card. Namjoon was first to break the silence. 

"So," he cleared his throat. "We came up with a list of possible suspects. The cocaine packet we found was already sent to a facility for DNA testing.”

"It's not exactly a list. More like one person," you got the case file out your bag. What back then was a thin folder filled with a singular page was now filled with paperclips and slightly dishevelled pages - the fruit of your research with Namjoon. You took the picture you printed out of the Gwangju rapper and put it beside a recent picture of Jung. "Don't these two conveniently look alike?" 

Jungkook leaned in to get a closer look, eyes straining to grasp any familiar features he could pick up from the low quality print. Suddenly, Yoongi jolted up, snatching the picture from the table. "How did you get this?"

"You know him?"

"Yeah, it's Hoseok. He went under the name 'J-Hope' back then until he just disappeared."

Taehyung hacked back a cough, a huge chunk of bread lodging itself in his throat. Jimin thumped him worriedly on the back, waving the rest of you off to ignore them. You continued questioning Yoongi." Joon, write this down. Can you elaborate on that?"

"I went against him back then Gyeongsangnam."

"He sucked ass."

"No, I mean, what happened after? Did you notice anything interesting about him? Something out of place?"

"Oh, well... From what I recall, he does look awfully a lot like Minho. Almost the same person. It's weird because they have the same last name too."

Namjoon shared a wary look with you. "Changing identities is very common for people in the illegal drugs industry. I'll get someone from the firm to run a background check on him."

You nodded. "Anything else?"

"I remember the police coming to raid the place. You know how there are some underground rapping contests? Ours was really underground. No ads, only word of mouth. You have to know someone there to get in. So we knew someone must've fucked up real bad for the police to get involved."

That's why you couldn't find any musical records or history on him. Namjoon was typing away at his laptop, seemingly getting the same idea.

"To be fair, nothing we did was illegal. The competition, the prize money, all legal. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was they caught Hoseok possessing marijuana. They shut everything down and took him with them. Never seen him ever since."

Everyone went silent again - even Taehyung ceased his coughing. Namjoon finished typing, readjusting his glasses." What year did that happen?"

"Somewhere in 2013. I think it was in April?"

"You mean to say,"  Jimin spoke up. "This Hoseok guy coincidentally disappeared six months before Soliloqy opened?”

Your jaw dropped, Namjoon mirroring your shocked expression. The tattoo artists looked at you in confusion, not getting what the big fuss was about. You lightly backhanded Namjoon on the chest, “Our theory’s plausible.”

“What theory?” Jungkook cut in. He wasn’t too worried about the case at first, but now that there were mentions of underground drug deals, he felt a bigger threat lurking around in the shadows. He just wants to be left alone - doesn’t want to lose the shop he risked everything for. 

“Hoseok and Minho are the same guy. We don’t have enough evidence to prove this, but we’ll continue to dig into it. The drugs, the blurry photos, Minho rarely seen outside and when he is, he’s always wearing a mask - these all scream fishy to me,” you paused to slide the pictures back into the folder, returning it into your bag. 

Taehyung slurped noisily on his iced tea. “This is some Scoobydoo shit.” He tapped his fork on his plate, confused to be met with the clinking of silverware. Bread crumbs and smears of strawberry jam greeted him, making him pout. Tugging Jungkook’s sleeve, he pointed his fork at his empty plate. “I’m all out.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jungkook rolled his eyes. He dug his credit card out his wallet for the nth time and placed it on Taehyung’s side. The older boy looked expectantly at him. “Well?”

“Can’t you buy it for me?”

“Oh my god-”

“I’ll buy it for you,” you smiled endearingly at Taehyung. He grinned back at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Jungkook stilled, an unreadable expression on his face. Without waiting for him to respond, you stood up, leaving the table and stood in line at the counter. 

To your surprise, Jungkook followed after you, taking his place behind you in line. “You don’t have to. He’s already spent over 30 000 won on pastries, and it’s only been two hours.”

“Oh come on, you’re acting as if we weren’t close back in high school,” you froze, realizing how wrong your words might have sounded. Back then, you could read him like an open book. Knew exactly what would set him up, where his boundaries were. But now, it was like walking on eggshells around him. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled, cheeks pink. “Maybe I should cut you some slack,” he said more to himself than to you.

"Yeah," you mimicked him. "Maybe you should."

"Seriously. I appreciate it. I appreciate you taking the case even after what happened between us back then," But the thing is, you didn't know it was him in the first place. It was unfair for him to think so highly of you. You knew you didn't deserve his kind words. Jungkook didn't change a bit - he was still shit at holding grudges. 

°°°

6 years ago

"Where are you?" Jungkook sobbed into the phone. Taehyung peered at him worriedly from the living room. The walls of his small dorm were thin, and Jungkook's side of the conversation was enough for him to piece together what you two were arguing about. "You promised."

"Tell her I'll come with you," he said, after a minute of silence. "I'll even work for her. I'll take the job offer she gave me. Please don't leave me."

He was so close to tearing his hair out. It's been a week since he last talked to you - you've been ignoring his calls and texts, Taehyung didn't know where you were, or if he did, he wasn't telling, and even your father hadn't been responding to him. And now you finally emerge from wherever the hell you've hidden in, telling him you were set to go to college in the States. 

"The job offer's gone, Kook. You're too late. My mom already booked the ticket, paid for my tuition. I can't turn back now," You were packing your bags back in Daegu. Taehyung's family was nice enough to let you stay for a few days until you were ready to go. Taehyung, along with your father, had explained your situation to them, and they were more than willing to help - though hesitant at first since they were also close to Jungkook. 

"Why are you hiding from me? Just tell me where you are. At least talk to me properly, please  ___," He kept walking in circles around the room, thinking of anything he could do. He felt so utterly helpless, sick to his stomach. "Please."

"At least tell me where you are!" He shouted into the phone. His mind was in a frenzy. Taking his wallet, he paid Taehyung no attention and ran out of the apartment, wearing only a t-shirt and jeans to protect him from the cold.

Taehyung ran after him, stopping him just before he could get into the subway. His phone was still in his hands, though you had already stopped talking on the other line. You brought the phone speaker away from your mouth, trying your best to muffle your sobs. He was still on the other and, yelling, pleading, begging to know where you were. At the back of your mind, your mother's words still echoed.

"You have no future with him, ___. He has nothing. No proper ambitions, no practicality, no sense of reality. He is weighing you down. If he wants to waste his potential, then that's on him. But he is not going to do the same to my daughter."

Taehyung was holding him back, trying to convince him to go back to his dorm. In the end, he dragged Jungkook back into the warmth of his room. The call was still ongoing, both ends of the line going silent until you finally ended it - along with your two-year relationship.

°°°

"So we're friends again?" you gave him a lopsided grin, offering your hand out to him. Guilt squeezed your heart. 

"Yeah," he looked away for a moment, pretending to be interested in the menu. He brought his hands together, twiddling his thumbs, before murmuring. "I missed you, ___."

When you came back, Taehyung kept staring at you, a suggestive smile on his face. You brushed him off, praying Jungkook didn't notice it too. The older boy traded - rather, forced to trade - seats with Namjoon, in favor of sitting next to you. A fresh plate of pastries sat in front of him, though his interest was on you alone. 

"I see you and Jungkookie are finally getting along," he whispered the moment Jungkook was distracted by Namjoon's relentless questioning. 

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him. "We're back to being friends. I'm just glad things aren't that awkward anymore."

"Took you a while to get off your high horse," he muttered, though his tone was playful. You still didn't get how he seemingly manages to brush everything under the rug. 

°°°

6 years ago

"___, you're hurting him," Taehyung hissed, keeping his voice low to not wake Jungkook up. He took a cautious glance around the place, sensing the younger boy was still asleep. "I didn't sign up for this. You told me you were only going away for four years. Why the fuck aren't you coming back?"

"I will come back," It was midnight. You were supposed to be sleeping. Instead, you were standing in the middle of the Kims' strawberry farm. Everything reminded you of Jungkook - his love for strawberries, his fascination with nature. Above you, the moon gazed upon the earth, accompanied by millions of blinking stars. And somewhere under that same moon, was the boyfriend you neglected.

"I just need a few years. Law school is not that easy, Tae. And I just can't go straight back there after I graduate. I need to work, I need to at least make a name for myself."

"I understand you don't want to disappoint your parents. I really do. What did you think I felt knowing my brother and my sister were aiming to be an engineer and a doctor, while I was going to take on a fucking arts course?" he took a deep breathe, forcing himself to calm down. "I know Jungkook doesn't have the most conventional dream out there, but at least explain everything to him. I can't see him hurting anymore."

"I did explain everything. "

"Telling him you were going abroad after ignoring him for one whole week isn't explaining, ___!"

"He won't understand! I'm only going to hurt him more," you ran a hand through your hair, the knotted mess getting pushed back. "I'll call him again by the time I'm in America."

"You better. I know I helped you because you were my friend, but he's my friend too. He's my best friend. And let me tell you, he is feeling depressed, ___. Your boyfriend is hurting because of you. At least be aware of that," Without another word, Taehyung ended the call.

You stared at the endless fields of strawberries and trees in front of you. Some of the leaves were already starting to brown in preparation for autumn. Not that you'll still be in Korea by the time it comes.

°°°

"So, what made you change your mind about her?” Taehyung was hunched over the arcade game, eyes stuck on whichever character he was beating to a pulp. The three of them were closing up shop. Jimin was still tidying up the customer lounge, while Jungkook and Taehyung waited for him in the employee room. Jungkook was on the other side, concentrating on designing a tattoo commission. 

“What do you mean?” he didn’t spare the older boy a glance. He was getting frustrated with this particular design. He had already gone through half a stack of paper just trying to get it right, and none of the sketches he has done so far looked right. 

“I mean-” he paused, letting out a grunt when he lost a round. “The first time you saw her again, you wouldn’t even talk to her. And before that, you wouldn’t even talk about her.”

“She’s our lawyer now. Of course I have to talk to her.”

“No, what I’m saying is- ah shit!” he slammed his hand onto the side of the machine. “Why the fuck won’t I jump? What the fuck?!”

“As I was saying,” he continued after putting in another token. “Yeah, she’s our lawyer and we have to be cooperative for obvious reasons. But I don’t know, you were different at the cafe. First of all, you bought me some food - which you never do.”

“Rarely do,” Jungkook corrected, pencil continuing to scrape on the paper. 

“Same thing. And you were giving her all these soft looks. Like a puppy or something.”

“I was?” Jungkook’s eyes widened, abruptly halting his sketching process. Taehyung had his full attention now. “Was I really, Tae? Honestly? If I was, do you think she noticed?”

“Maybe. I dunno. She looked really focused on the evidence folder and shit. But yeah, anyone could tell you missed her just by seeing the way you look at her. It’s kinda like the way you used to look at her back when you two were...” Taehyung never finished the sentence. Instead, the sound effects from the arcade game filled the room. Taehyung knew just how far he could touch that area, and not once did he cross the line; he still didn’t know if it was safe or not.

“You can’t keep hating her forever.”

“I don’t hate her.”

“Well then, you can’t keep holding a grudge against her. I know what she did to you was utterly hurtful. I was there to witness shit hitting the fan. But you know, you’re bad at holding grudges. Especially against someone who was a big part of your life. I’m not saying you still love her. I’m just saying, you can’t...” After what felt like an eternity, Taehyng pulled out a chair and sat beside him. “You can’t pretend like you’re not getting affected by any of this. You get me?”

The older boy sighed, grabbing Jungkook by the wrist to stop him from sketching. “If you stopped living in total denial, you would realize that you’ve stopped designing the tattoo, and instead, have been sketching her for the past 15 minutes.”

Jungkook straightened up in his chair, getting a better look at the paper. There, in fact, was a messy, but distinguishable sketch of your face. Before he could react, a brown paper bag was plopped onto the papers. 

“I re-heated some grilled cheese and double-locked the back door. We’re good to go,” Jimin leaned one of the chairs next to Jungkook. He bunched up the papers and shoved them into his bag before Jimin could see. 

“We’re good to go,” he repeated.

The night was cold. There were only a few people in the streets, illuminated by the scattered lamp lights. The streets were damp - they didn’t even notice it rained. They walked in silence, both boys sensing the younger one’s dread. Not because he hated you, but because he didn’t know what to feel anymore. 

“It’s gonna be okay kid,” Jimin wrapped an inked arm around him. “You just need some closure, that’s all. Talk to her and see how it goes. If it turns out good, then it’s good. If it turns out bad, I have a friend over at the Naughty Bunny who can get us inside without having to wait in line.”

Jungkook chuckled, thinking about all the times Jimin came to work with a pounding headache and love bites all over his neck. He shook his head, “Thanks for the offer hyung, but I have to pass. ___ might call for an emergency meeting and-”

He stopped abruptly, making the boys halt. Taehyung made a move to speak, but Jungkook waved him off, signalling for him to keep quiet. The older boys looked at each other in confusion. In the distance, just beneath the shadows of an alley next to Soliloquy, a tall figure hunched in front of the brick wall, fumbling with something in his hands. It was too dark to see, but Jungkook was sure it was him.

Without warning, he bolted towards the man, Jimin and Taehyung running after him. The figure took a second before noticing him, but by the time he went to run, he was already cornered. Jungkook grabbed him by the collar, slamming him against the wall. 

“Yah! Don’t run off like that you brat!” Jimin started scolding him. He didn’t even notice Taehyung tugging on his sleeve, muttering his name.

“Hyung. Hyung. Jimin. Jimin hyung. Jiminie.”

“What?” he asked, annoyed. Taehyung pointed at the boy in Jungkook’s hands, his eyes terrified, pupils blown out in such a way he knew he wasn’t sober. His hand hung limply, sluggishly trying to get Jungkook off him. There was the man himself - their greatest rival. “Son of a bitch-”

“Yah, Jung Minho, ” Jungkook said. “We have to talk.”

[hatsukeii]

hey! can i request some headcanons about how tsukki, kuroo, and kageyama would act if they had a really short s/o. i’m vv short and i feel like some headcanons about them teasing their short s/o is bound to have me laughing :)

Tysm for the request ahsgjs😳💕

Under 5’5 gang wya😔✌️

Btw these are for fem s/o because I don’t know how to write male s/o, sorry🥺

I mean you can totally imagine it as a male s/o those, it’s only bc I made a period joke that I say it’s for fem s/o:)

Tiny bit of thought up headcanon for the boys too, just a tiny bit.

Btw imagine their partner as one of the managers for the volleyball team, gives me more ideas to work with haha:DD

(Slight angst that I made up for Tsukki because no one knows where the fuck his dad is and I love him so much oh my god-)

🌊Kageyama🌊

- “Aww look at you cutie.”

- “Hey, smack that dumbass for me. I’m too tall to.”

- “Is that a dress for you?”

- Actually doesn’t constantly remind you of how short you are.

- Knows how genes work and understands there was almost nothing you could do to prevent being short.

- Doesn’t mean he won’t occasionally tease you for it though.

- “Oh? You want some milk? Is it to grow taller? Your bones probably need it. Here, have as much as you want-” *Smack.

- Thinks you look adorable when you’re mad.

- “You really expect me to feel threatened when you look like Kirby?”

- Piggyback rides all the time.

- “Tobio, I’m tired.”

- “Hop on.”

- You once slept over at his because of a storm after his volleyball training, without your parents knowing because they were on vacation.

- It was really late at night, and Kageyama didn’t want you going home yourself.

- This meant you didn’t have any clothes.

- I mean yeah you brought extra shorts to school because of your time of the month, but you didn’t have a shirt.

- “You can borrow mine, don’t worry. Go clean yourself up.”

- You came out of his bathroom, and he almost passed out.

- “Wh-why arent you wearing any pan-”

- “I’m wearing shorts under this. Your shirt’s just really long.”

- He was so flustered he avoided looking anywhere under your torso for an hour.

- “Thanks for letting me stay over last week, here’s your shirt back.”

- “Keep it. It looks cute on you and I get to see you wear a makeshift dress.”

- Cuddle sessions are great.

- You can lie on him in any position, and he would still be able to reach out and grab your hand or play with your hair.

- He gets to be the big spoon, and he loves it.

- Protecting you is Kageyama’s new duty.

- He takes it a bit too seriously.

- He once threw Tsukishima into a wall because the middle blocker decided it would be a good idea to take your phone and go through it.

- “Do that one more time, and I’ll do something way worse than that.”

- He looked like he was about to go on a killing spree.

- Even Tsukishima was taken aback. He hasn’t messed with you since.

- Whenever Hinata does something stupid, you’re on smack duty.

- Apparently Kageyama’s “too tall” to do it.

- It’s a bit hard for you to give him forehead kisses, or cute little cheek pecks.

- But he doesn’t mind at all.

- Because he fell in love with your short cutie pie kirby chipmunk tiny ass, and he wouldn’t change anything about you.

♠️Kuroo♠️

- Makes fun of you like at least 3 times a day about your height.

- “How’s it feel like to be like shrimpy over there?”

- “Oh, sorry, I can’t hear you whining from down there.”

- “I’d totally let you kill me, provided you can reach my neck.”

- Knows not to make you mad though.

- Last time he decided to tease you by holding the coffee you brought to school above his head.

- You pounced onto his back and choked him with your arms until he gave you the cold brew you got from Starbucks.

- Being his short girlfriend had its advantages though.

- Kuroo, being the extra™️ boy he is, can pick your tiny body up with ease.

- Meaning whenever he hugged you, he’d pick you up and spin you around like in a broadway musical.

- After that, he would continue to hold you up and nuzzle your head into his neck while laughing about that grand gesture.

- Loves it when you wrap your legs around him while he gives you piggyback rides.

- You once fell asleep on his back.

- So he brought you home and carried you up to your room in a bridal carry.

- Likes to play with your hair while waiting for the bus with you.

- Also like to hoist you over his shoulder when you get annoyed just for shits and giggles.

- Likes to give you nose kisses. A lot.

- He knows you’re tiny, but that doesn’t mean he thinks you’re weak.

- He knows fully well your fiery ass will stick up for yourself, so he’s not super pressed about it when people make fun of your height.

- However he will get protective if he’s thinks you’re starting to get offended by the comments.

- Likes to compare you to Kenma, much to his annoyance.

- “I am nowhere near as short as your girlfriend Kuroo fuck off.”

- Likes to go on trampoline park dates.

- Wants to see how high you can jump. (Spoiler alert: pretty fucking high.)

- Tries his best to get onto the wall every time you guys go there, but always fails.

- You just sit on top of the wall staring back down at him, enjoying the temporary height you have.

- “Kuroo, how’s the weather down there?”

- “Screw you!”

- Laughs his ass off at your random outbursts in the morning when you haven’t finished your coffee.

- Holds your head back when you try and punch him.

- Secretly wants to see you mad, because you look so fucking cute.

- Compares you to fluffy things like marshmallows and chipmunks.

- “You look like a baby squirrel, I love you.”

- And whenever he says that, he means it.

- He would take your short ass over anyone anyday. No questions asked.

🌙Tsukishima🌙

- *Breathes in deeply* Here we go.

- Will not stop fucking making fun of your height.

- I repeat: Will NOT.

- “Hey shorty.”

- “You can’t fight me. You can’t even reach my shoulders.”

- Balances his stuff on your head when he’s going through his bag.

- Uses your head like an armrest.

- He once balanced his water bottle on your head, and you spilled the water all over him.

- You were laughing your ass off at how pissed he was.

- No one in your classes knows how you two ended up together.

- It doesn’t matter at all though.

- Your first kiss was awkward, to say the least.

- He has to bend down a whole ass 20-30 centimetres to reach you.

- Couldn’t be happier when it happened though.

- The entire Karasuno volleyball team was watching secretly.

- From then on, you two have been the power couple of the school.

- You guys didn’t seem like a couple though.

- You two playfully banter so much other students that didn’t know you guys thought you were enemies.

- Now onto the advantages of being Tsukishima’s short partner.

- One thing Tsukishima is great at, is being a bodyguard.

- Anyone else that makes fun of your height will be destroyed.

- He once blocked a ball and aimed it at Lev’s face during the training camp because the Russian told you you were “too short to be Tsukishima’s girlfriend” and that there was “no way you guys are dating.”

- It took half an hour to stop his nose from bleeding.

- No he didn’t break Lev’s nose, just made it bleed.

- Thinks you’re the absolute best at cuddling with him.

- Made you a dinosaur plush. Made. Not bought.

- Watching dinosaur documentaries curled up on Tsukishima’s chest while he strokes your hair and gives you forehead kisses is the best feeling in the world.

- When times call for it though you don’t hesitate to give the blond affection even if you’re a small bean that has to be protected.

- There was this one time before the match against Shiratorizawa, where Tsukishima had a huge anxiety attack in the middle of the night. Like 2am in the middle of the night.

- “Hey- Love are you okay?”

- “Plea-please, help, I’m- please, there’s no one home I need someone-”

- “I’ll be right here, give me five minutes.”

- With both your parents gone for a very long business trip, you basically zoomed to Tsukishima’s house. His brother was in his university dorm for the night because of early morning training the next day.

- Being the bad bitch you were you picked the lock to his house and swung open the door to him room, to see his tall figure curled up in the corner of his room on the floor, shaking, strained sobs coming out of his mouth.

- You kneeled down next to him, burying his head in your sweater, cradling his head while he sobbed.

- “My dad... he’s dead. Fucking dead. I was waiting for him to come back from Tokyo but then mom fucking called and he got hit by some drunk hunk of shit and now I don’t know what the fuck I can do-“

- “Oh shit... it’s okay, cry it out, it’s fine, shhh...”

- This went on for about half an hour. Just you, letting him whimper and sob into your sweater while you whispered sweet nothings into his ear.

- It was that night, that he realised he had fallen in love with your pipsqueak ass.

Whooo Jesus got a bit carried away there, I don’t care though, I like writing angst anyways lmao I’m keeping that in and using it for fanfictions someday;)

[cordytriestowrite]

Knocking On Your Door

Bucky Barnes x Reader

One Shot College AU

Summary: Bucky can't sleep and you can't find your door.

The strip of light under the door was too bright and the heavy footfalls just outside sent shadows across Bucky's eyelids so that every time he felt compelled to open them. He knew it was late but didn't dare touch his phone and have his retinas burned by the intense, artificial light. Ten feet to his right his best friend let out a loud, choking snore reminding Bucky he was the only one having a problem adjusting to dorm life. 

A shiver ran down Bucky's body as his left shoulder escaped from the warm cocoon of his comforter and he had to expose his right hand to the cold to tuck everything back in. A sleeping Steve missed Bucky's lukewarm glare in the dark. The man could sleep soundly on a bed of ice but Bucky? Well, Bucky hated the cold. The thermostat for the whole floor was just down the hall behind a plastic cage. He spared a moment to fantasize about ripping it off with his bare hand before hurling it out the window and watching it shatter on the sidewalk below. And while the fantasy was nice the reality was Bucky should probably just put on a sweater, but he hated wearing shirts to bed so he stubbornly suffered in silence. 

Two students passed through the hall in a heated conversation at full volume. Did anyone take morning classes on this floor? Bucky wondered bitterly as he burrowed his head underneath his pillow and let out a tiny, totally manly whimper of exhaustion. He knew college would be tough, was told as much by everyone he knew, but no one thought to mention how impossible it would be to get some fucking sleep.

The tips of his ears and nose warmed with his head planted under his pillow and while his neck ached slightly and his inhales became filled more with exhaled breath than fresh air he found his eyes suddenly heavy with sleep. 

The rattling of the door knob had Bucky bolting upright. The sound was insistent, offending Bucky's ears every few seconds while he blinked sleep from his eyes. The sudden cold air on his chest helped rouse him enough to pull the covers back and put his feet on the equally cold ground. He took a moment to grit his teeth against the chill. 

What sounded like an open palm smacked once against the wood spurring Bucky to leap the short distance across the room. His hand gripped the still wriggling knob and wretched the door open.

"Jesus, do you know what time it is?"

The greeting growled out of him, he couldn't help it. He knew he was wild-eyed, hair messy, and torso bare to display the stump where his arm should be and that alone would have made even his closest friends take an instinctual step away.

But you only blinked owlishly at him.

"You're not Carol?" You managed to slur out the cohesive thought as you stared at the man in front of you who was definitely not your roommate. 

"Uh," Bucky's forehead crinkled with his own confusion. 

"No?"

It was obvious you were drunk. If Bucky didn't have eyes he'd still be able to smell the reek of booze pouring off your skin. 

"Why are you in my room?" 

"I'm not. I'm in my room."

"Who are you?"

"Bucky, who are you?"

Your gaze hardened and your hands braced against your hips. You knew where you lived god dammit and this...this...Bucky would not put you out on your ass.

"Get out of my room you creep!"

Bucky's movements were quicker than yours, his arm coming up to block your two handed push. What neither of you anticipated was the lack of balance on your end that had you crumpling into each other like a car crash. It took your brain a minute to breach the surface of understanding and reorient your sense of space to its current status: horizontal with a bloom of pain in your knee and your face pressed to bare skin. Your tongue swiped along your bottom lip and the action was answered with a pulsing sting and the taste of copper.

"Ouchies." You moaned with a pathetic warble.

A groan of agreement rumbled beneath you. Bucky, with the wind still knocked out of him, glanced up at the bed half expecting a disheveled blond head to lean over the edge. If Steve woke up at all from the commotion he already deemed it not as important as sleeping.

You didn't seem interested in moving off of Bucky and occasionally he could feel your tongue leave a wet trail against his chest which was kind of weirding him out. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of taking advantage of a drunk girl by another loud late-night hall walker. With his arm on your opposite shoulder he tugged gently until you fell onto the rug beside him. 

"Where's Carol?" You asked again, feeling your eyes sting with big, fat, extra salty tears.

"I want french fries." You added as an afterthought. 

Bucky let out a surprised chuckle, muffling it behind his palm as he let it slide down his face and pull at his lower lip.

"Me too."

Your stomach contracted with a mix of hunger and nausea. Turning on your side you tried to settle into a comfortable position on the hard floor. Bucky turned on his side toward you, his eyes flitting over your face with concern.

"Don't fall asleep."

Your lower lip jutted out, the pull of skin ripping the split open further. Your tongue ran along the wound again. 

"I'm not!"

Your eyes closed of their own accord though your mind was still very much active. You wondered yet again where Carol was. But finding her was only  secondary to your new mission.

"I want french fries."

You heard a sigh and cracking one eye open your vision swam for a moment before taking in the man next to you. His hair was long, pooling onto the floor under his head. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles and weary with the need for sleep. His chest was bare, pale and toned and scarred where his limb suddenly ended.

"Did I do that?" You wondered out loud, your fingers inching toward the pink, tight skin. 

"No." he answered, his voice soft with vulnerability. 

Bucky felt as if he had hit the floor all over again. He felt dizzy and breathless and unable to do anything but watch what was happening. Fingers connected with flesh and the sharp intake of air hurt his lungs. It didn't feel like much, the nerves dull and your touch light, but Bucky's body was awake with awareness. 

"I've never…" 

Your thought floated away halfway through speaking it, but Bucky nodded as if he understood. Eventually your fingers stopped stroking and Bucky rolled over to his back. There was a second of stillness before he sat up and stared down at you.

"Tell you what: let's go find your friend Carol and get you some french fries."

You ignored the pain of your lip in favor of offering Bucky a wide smile.

"Fuck yes let's go!"

Bucky sent a quick glance to the lump in Steve's bed which remained unmoving despite your exclamation. Rising first he offered his hand to you, bending his knees and keeping his balance low and centered as you stumbled your way up to standing. 

-

"Wake up sleeping beauty."

You groaned, pulling your blanket above your head. Your head was pounding, blood pulsing painfully behind your eyes. Your mouth was dry, breath foul, and bladder full. In essence you were hungover. 

"Carol, I'm dying." You moaned, your voice breaking with overuse. 

"I know sweetie. Now sit up and take these."

Carol pulled the blanket back and waited patiently for you to sit up before dropping the pills into your awaiting palm. You dropped them into your mouth and tried not to gag as you washed them down. 

"So you had an interesting night, huh?"

You had settled back down, the effort it took to stay upright too much to handle right now. You draped your forearm over your eyes and let out a sigh of relief.

"I don't know, did I?"

Carol didn't answer but you could still feel her weight on the edge of your bed. You snuck a peak from under your arm.

"Carol Danvers what do you know?"

She shrugged, but the burgeoning smirk on her lips suggested she wasn't entirely ignorant. You sat up again, your body hunched over with nausea, but you persevered. 

"Tell me what you know, woman!"

Carol's lips quirked upward, her stare steady in silent resistance. You were about to flop back down and leave last night a mystery but Carol must've seen your interest waning. 

"Imagine my surprise when there is a knock on the door at four in the morning and it's you holding a basket of fries in one hand and waving goodbye to some tall, dark, and handsome with the other."

"Who was it?"

Carol shrugged, finally getting up and crossing back over to her side of the room and tugging on her brown leather jacket.

"I'm meeting Maria for breakfast. Want me to bring you something back or do you think you can brave the journey."

As much as you wanted to spend the day in bed with your roommate bringing you food you knew the best way to recover from your monster hangover was to walk your tired ass downstairs and across campus to the cafeteria, load up a plate with greasy food, and shovel it all into your face until you felt human again.

You pulled back your covers to find yourself still in the outfit you wore last night, a wrinkled shirt and skirt combo that did not look as cute as it did last night. Pulling on sweatpants and a hoodie you followed Carol at a much slower pace. 

Maria was leaning against the outside wall of the cafeteria until she spotted Carol. You watched her jog to meet her girlfriend sooner by a few seconds with a flutter in your own chest at just how fucking cute they were. 

"Not that I don't like seeing you two be adorable but I need hash browns."

Maria took one look at your current state and nodded seriously, pulling Carol along under her arm.

"Well shit who am I to deny you breakfast?"

The cafeteria was surprisingly busy for a Saturday morning, but the lines of food were already being switched out for lunch items and you realized it was later than you thought. 

You were plopping your third scoop of eggs onto your plate when you felt a presence next to you. Looking up beyond the edge of your hood a spark of recognition barely ignited in your memory, but something about him seemed familiar. His plate sat mostly empty on the runner and you assumed he was waiting for his turn with the eggs. 

"Sorry." You muttered, dropping the spoon and moving along the line.

"For which part?" 

Bucky had barely registered that the hunched and bundled body next to him was you until you spoke. He had dropped you off at the door a floor below his only six hours ago then took the stairs back to his room and promptly passed out. Steve tried to rouse him for a morning run with Sam but unlike Steve, Bucky hadn't caught a wink of sleep until the sun was rising. Steve's return and Sam's insistent prodding at Bucky's body beneath his blanket had spurred him awake and in a foul mood. He escaped the room with his foul mood intact wondering if Natasha would let him crash in her bed while she worked. She didn't answer when he knocked on her door and in a futile attempt to catch up on sleep he ventured to the cafeteria. She wasn't there but now that Bucky was his stomach begged for substance. With an energy drink shoved into his pocket he pushed his plate down the line waiting for something to catch his eye. 

Turns out that thing was you. 

Turns out Bucky was not quite out of his funk.

He followed you, pushing his plate past what remained of the eggs. 

"Do you want to apologize for showing up at my door in the middle of the night? Or for accusing me of breaking into my own dorm? Maybe for pushing me?"

Your eyes widened with each word until the dryness stung and forced you to blink back the moisture. There was a smudged image in your mind of the same man before you, hair loose and eyes tired, not too different from how he looked right now. 

"All of it?" You offered up with a half shrug. 

Bucky didn't know what he expected, wasn't sure he expected anything. Maybe he just wanted to be angry and for you to feel guilty. 

But he remembered your fingers grazing the scars on his chest and arm, how you leaned into him as he walked you to your door, your nonsensical stories barely uttered through drunken giggles, and how much many times you muttered 'cute' when gazing at him with a dopey smile on your face. 

Silence stretched between you, Bucky's gaze far away with the night he luckily could remember. You moved down the bar, suddenly not as hungry as you were a few minutes ago. 

You reached the student cashier, who barely looked up as you reached into your pocket to fish out your id card.

"I got it."

Bucky leaned over to place his card into the cashier's awaiting hand. Who swiped it without hesitation before passing it back in Bucky's general direction. 

"Thanks."

You picked up your plate, waiting for Bucky to do the same.

"I really am sorry for whatever I did last night."

Bucky placed his plate down at an empty table then set his energy drink down before pulling out his chair. You could see Carol and Maria sitting a few tables away, but the couple was wrapped up in a conversation and hadn't noticed you.

"I assume I have you to thank for getting me home last night?"

Bucky nodded, a smile forming on his tired face.

"And your precious basket of fries. I'm surprised you're still hungry, I bought you three baskets."

A flush of heat rippled down your body, self-consciously you licked your bottom lip and felt a tenderness you didn't have before you started drinking last night. 

"Holy shit, I ate that many fries?"

"Nah, you wanted to bring one back to Carol."

You glanced at the woman in question. Catching her eye and watching her very obviously mouth 'that's him!'

Yeah, no shit Carol. Thanks. 

"So after I wake you up in the middle of the night, insult you, push you, and drag you out of your dorm you not only buy me fries but you buy my friend fries and my breakfast this morning."

Bucky shrugged, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth and staring intently at his plate. 

"Are you single?"

Bucky choked a little before he managed to swallow the large amount of food he had unwittingly dumped into his gob to keep from making an ass of himself. Turns out he could do that anyway. Coughing to clear his airway he let out a strangled answer.

"I am."

"So would it be weird if after all of that I asked you out?"

Bucky couldn't keep from smiling this time and to be safe he set down his fork and pushed away his plate. He had a date. He had the weirdest night of his college experience and now he had a date. Bad mood banished he felt an influx of endorphins urging him to run or jump or dance or do something equally stupid in public. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'd like that. But I'd like to take a nap first." He confessed with a chuckle.

"Oh my god, me too." You said wistfully, already imagining crawling back into bed, maybe with…

"First date idea: want to nap together?"

Bucky's heart swelled in his chest to the point he thought it might send him floating away. 

"Fuck yes! Can we go now?"

You nodded, letting out a surprised squeal when Bucky gasped your hand and pulled you up and out of the mess hall. You caught up with him so he was less tugging you along and more so holding your hand. 

"Maybe while we walk you can help me fill in the gaps of last night. So your name is Bucky and why were you in my room?"

Bucky groaned, albeit with no frustration. You were so fucking cute if you let him he was going to kiss you before you both passed out cuddled up in the small, thin dorm beds, ignoring the sounds of passersby and daylight streaming though the window.

And fuck anyone who knocks on the door.

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