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moonlightdreamzz · 1 month ago

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SPLASH — JAKE

SUMMARY ✰ You don’t know how you ended up at this frat party, let alone in the final round of a beer pong tournament against Jake, the chapter president. But here you are, victorious and way too drunk. When Jake takes you back to his room, expecting a typical frat boy, you find someone unexpectedly sweet—and he’s just as surprised by how much he enjoys your company. A night of surprising connections unfolds, and you’re both left wondering…have you met the love of your life?

GENRE ✰ Fratboy!Jake x Reader, FLUFF.

WARNINGS ✰ Mild Langauge, Mentions of alcohol and drugs.

College is a fascinating place. One moment, you're crying hysterically over your seemingly inhumane professors, the suspect cafeteria food, and whatever situationship you find yourself in this month. But then the weekend arrives, wrapping you in its warm embrace—often with a comforting bottle of vodka in hand to help you forget your troubles.

Suddenly, all is well in your world again. The air is fresher, and life is worth living again. Tonight is no different, except you're not in your bed shamelessly downing Tito’s with your girls; instead, you're at a fucking frat party of all places, and to put the icing on the cake, you're their newly crowned beer pong champion.

You're currently perched high on two boys shoulders. You're way too intoxicated to correctly guess their names, but you're pretty sure one is named Heeseung, and the other is named Niki.

The chants of your name echoed through the crowded frat house, the cheers growing louder as you revel in your unexpected beer pong victory. The night had taken a surprising turn, shifting you from a stressed-out college student to the reigning beer pong queen.

How did you, of all people, end up here, Y/N? Your friends would ask if they weren’t currently drunkenly making out with random people at this party. It’s really all their fault. You’ve always been comfortable with your tradition of hitting the liquor store every Friday after class, finding something good to eat, taking shots all night, and waking up to do it all over again on Saturday.

You flash back to earlier that evening, your friends practically begging you to come to this party. "Come on, Y/N! It'll be fun!" they had pleaded. "So many hot guys will be there. You can't miss it!" You had rolled your eyes, but their excitement was infectious. They had promised it would be the best night of the semester, and you finally caved, agreeing to go despite your reservations. Little did you know just how unexpected this night would become.

The frat house is a hazy blur, filled with smoke from blunts being passed around. The bass from the loud music vibrates through the floor, and the smell of spilled beer mixes with the scent of sweat and cheap cologne. Bodies are packed together, dancing and shouting, with red solo cups in hand. The dim lighting casts a soft glow over the chaos, and the atmosphere is a mix of wild energy and drunken laughter.

Amidst the sea of faces, the chanting intensified as you locked eyes with Jake, the chapter president, making his way through the crowd. He wore a sly grin, seemingly intrigued by the unexpected turn of events. You couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline as the crowd's energy shifted to this final showdown.

Jake’s reputation preceded him – the charismatic chapter president with a magnetic aura. But, truth be told, you didn't know much about him beyond that. The college grapevine buzzed with tales of his leadership, the fraternity's wild parties, and his supposed unbeatable streak in beer pong.

Yet, as he approached, you couldn't help but notice more than just his frat boy charm. The room seemed to slow down around him, the haze of smoke and loud music fading into the background. His easy smile drew you in, and the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed was disarming, to say the least. His confident stride and relaxed demeanor made him stand out, and you feel an unexpected flutter in your chest. As he gets closer, you can see the warmth in his gaze, a hint of curiosity and amusement sparkling in his eyes.

“I would say hi to you properly, but I’m still up here,” you say shyly, feeling a flush of embarrassment and amusement.

Jake grins and turns to the guys. “Boys, let her down.”

Niki and Heeseung pretend to drop you, catching you just in time before you hit the ground. The room erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but join in, realizing with a sudden jolt that you’re thoroughly, drunkenly enjoying the moment.

Jake steps closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So, Y/N, you dodging the smoke or just trying to stay on your feet?”

You blink, trying to focus on him as you laugh again, the room spinning just slightly. “I think it might be a bit of both,” you admit, your voice a bit wobbly. “But mama didn’t raise a punk. Let’s go”

“Turnt up, huh?” He chuckles.

“Well I came this far, didn’t I?” You slur. You don’t notice, but Jake silently eyes the boys behind you, warning them to look for signs of you tapping out and they nod in agreement.

“It’s a shame really,” he paces back and forth, ball in hand. “I’m typically a gentleman, but when it comes to my champion title, I won’t play nice.” He teases cunningly.

The match begins, and a spark ignites between you and Jake. The banter between shots are filled with laughter, teasing, and unexpected chemistry. The crowd, initially cheering for the underdog, are now witnessing a battle of wit and skill. It isn’t just about the game anymore; it is about the connection forged over a ping pong ball and a red Solo cup.

The final ball hovers over the table, and time seems to slow. With a triumphant toss, you sink the shot, sealing your victory. The cheers erupt once again, and you are engulfed in a sea of jubilant partygoers. Jake, a good sport, grins proudly.

Once again, you’re on someone’s shoulders. You’re trying so hard to keep your composure and sober up, and you think you’re doing a great job masking, but Jake’s eyes haven’t left you and he knows you’ve had way too much to drink.

“Dude, you’re definitely taking shots for that.” His brother, Jay, taunts grabbing a nearby bottle of Hennessy from the table coated with all types of liquor. “Hello? Earth to Jake?” He begins snapping in his friends face, but Jake is seemingly enchanted by you. Not seemingly, really. For certain.

“I will.” Jake utters to his friend, patting him on the shoulder before being pushed towards you like a tide. “She’s just really drunk. I can tell. Let me make sure she’s okay first.”

“When have you ever cared about—“ Jay attempts to argue, but Jake is gone. “Talk later…I guess.” He laughs.

You look up at him, a mix of curiosity and relief in your eyes to see him approaching you.

Jake reaches his hands out to help you off his younger members shoulder. His hands feel…nice intertwined with your own, but you don’t get to enjoy the moment long because he lets go as soon as your feet touch the floor.

“I realized I never asked your name.” He says with sympathy.

You drunkenly lean into his ear, barely being able to stand on your two feet standing still. “Y/N.” You giggle.

Your laugh is infectious, or maybe he’s drunk as well. All he knows is that he wants to keep saying things to make you laugh if it was going to sound as cute as that.

“Well, Y/N, I’m Jake. You don’t have to, but I was going to offer you my room because I think you’re a little drunker than you anticipated.

The room is still spinning slightly, but his offer feels like a welcome escape from the chaos. You nod, and he helps guide you through the crowd, leading you to a quieter corner where you can both catch your breath and enjoy a more intimate moment away from the party’s frenzy.

You know if your friends could see you right now they’d yank you away, condemning you for running off with a stranger—a frat boy at that who were notorious for being completely weirdos. But they weren’t here right now and the thought of being away from all the haze and loud music was something you’d do anything for right now.

“Is this a bad idea?” You question aloud, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you say it. In the midst, you also trip and fall.

Jake drops to his knees beside you, his hands trying to pick you up the best he can in his equally drunken state. “Oh shit, are you okay Y/N?”

Your low eyes lift to meet his own, a child-like grin resting on your features. “You remembered my name.” You utter in adoration, like it was special that a man who found out your name only five minutes ago remembered it. “You have such a greattttt memory. You probably have great grades.”

Jake’s cheeks resemble tomatoes at this point, and he doesn’t know if it’s the liquor, how hot he is, or some weird spell you’ve put on him. “You have a pretty name. I probably won’t ever forget it.” A soft giggle erupts out of him. When had he ever been this cheesy?

From your drunken point of view, it feels like the journey to his room was of normal stature. In reality, the both of you slugged up the stairs—Jake leaning against the wall in a sad attempt to be the responsible one in this moment, and you crawling up the steps like a newborn.

Jake finally nudges the door to his room open, his shoulder braced against the frame as you stumble in behind him. The moment you step inside, the chaos of the frat party fades away, replaced by an unexpected coziness.

You glance around, blinking slowly as your eyes adjust to the softer lighting. His room is nothing like you imagined for a frat boy. A neatly made bed with a dark blue comforter rests against one wall, flanked by two mismatched nightstands. A few scattered books sit on one, and a lamp with a warm glow illuminates the other. Posters of indie bands and vintage movie covers are pinned to the walls, and there's even a small shelf with neatly organized vinyl records.

“Wow…” you mumble, swaying slightly as you take it all in. “You’re not like other frat boys, are you?”

Jake lets out a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I don’t know what you were expecting. A pile of dirty laundry and some gym equipment?”

You nod seriously, pointing at him as if to say exactly that.

“Well, sorry to disappoint,” he says, moving quickly to steady you as you trip over the edge of his rug. His hands are warm on your arms, and for a second, the air between you feels heavier. But then he gently leads you toward the bed.

“Here, you can have this,” he offers, gesturing to his bed. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You shake your head, though your movements are sluggish. “No way. It’s your bed. You’re being too nice already.”

Jake smiles at you, his expression softening. “Y/N, you’re too drunk to argue with me right now. Just sit down before you fall again, okay?”

Reluctantly, you plop onto the edge of the bed, your hands smoothing over the comforter. “Fine. But I’m still going to feel bad about it.”

He grabs a spare blanket from the small closet and tosses it onto the couch across the room. “Don’t. I promise I’ve crashed on worse.”

Jake pulls up the chair from his desk and sits on it backward, his arms draped over the top of the backrest as he looks at you. His gaze is steady, almost too steady, like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on inside your head.

“You’re really trying, huh?” he says, tilting his head as you focus hard—way too hard—on unscrewing the cap of the water bottle he handed you earlier.

“Trying what?” you ask, but your voice is sluggish, your words drawn out like taffy.

“To sober up,” he replies, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But it’s not working, is it?”

You huff, finally managing to twist the cap off and taking a big gulp. The cool water is refreshing, but it does nothing to stop the dizziness swirling in your head. “I don’t think it is,” you admit, your shoulders slumping. “And I hate it. I’m not usually this…messy.”

Jake leans forward, his forearms resting on the chair’s back. His dark eyes soften as he watches you, and there’s no judgment there, only something you can’t quite name. “You’re not messy,” he says simply. “You’re just human.”

The way he says it, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, makes your chest feel warm. You shift on the bed, sitting cross-legged now, and point a finger at him. “Okay, Mr. Human Expert. What about you? You seem way too composed for someone who just had to drag me up a staircase.”

Jake chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just good at keeping it together. Doesn’t mean I always feel that way.”

You squint at him, curiosity getting the better of you. “You’re mysterious, you know that? Like, in the brooding, leading-man kind of way.”

He snorts, clearly amused. “Brooding, huh? That’s a first.”

“I mean it,” you say, leaning forward a little too eagerly and almost toppling over. Jake reaches out instinctively to steady you, his hand brushing your arm, and it sends a small jolt through you. “See? Even the way you look at people. It’s like…you see right through them.”

For a moment, Jake doesn’t say anything. His hand lingers before he pulls back, retreating to his spot on the chair. Then he reaches over to his desk and grabs a small, red box.

“What’s that?” you ask, your eyes narrowing as he holds it up.

“We’re Not Really Strangers,” he says, flipping the box open and pulling out a stack of cards. “It’s a game. Kind of. You ask each other questions. Get to know someone.”

“Deep questions?” you ask, suddenly intrigued despite the haze in your brain.

“Very deep,” Jake says with a smirk, shuffling the cards like he’s done this before.

You shift on the bed, hugging your knees to your chest. “I’m in. But no crying questions, okay? I’m already emotionally unstable.”

Jake laughs quietly. “No promises. But I’ll go first.” He pulls a card from the deck and reads it out loud. “What’s the first thing you noticed about me?”

You blink at him, the question catching you off guard. “That’s easy. Your eyes,” you say without hesitation. “They’re so intense. Like you’re always thinking about something serious.”

Jake tilts his head, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “Huh. Most people say the height or the hair. Your turn.”

You take the deck from him, fumbling slightly, and draw a card. “If you could have one superpower, what would it be?”

He leans back, his expression contemplative. “Probably the ability to read minds,” he says after a moment.

You gasp, pointing at him again. “That’s so Scorpio of you!”

Jake looks genuinely confused, his eyebrows furrowing. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” you say, drawing the word out dramatically, “you’re the kind of person who needs to know what’s going on under the surface. You hate not understanding people.”

Jake shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “Alright, astrologer. What about you? What superpower would you want?”

“Teleportation,” you say instantly. “Imagine how easy life would be. No traffic, no waiting in lines, no awkward goodbyes.”

Jake chuckles. “That tracks. You seem like the type who doesn’t like sitting still.”

You grin, feeling oddly proud of the observation. “Your turn.”

He draws another card, his expression turning slightly more serious. “What’s something you’ve never told anyone?”

The room feels quieter suddenly, the question hanging in the air between you. You bite your lip, glancing at him. “That’s heavy.”

Jake shrugs, but his gaze never wavers. “It doesn’t have to be. Just something.”

You think for a moment, your head resting on your knees. “I’ve never told anyone that…sometimes I feel like I have to be the fun one. Like, if I’m not, people won’t want me around.”

Jake’s face softens, and he leans forward, his voice low and steady. “That’s not true, Y/N. People want you around because you’re you.”

Your cheeks flush, and for once, you don’t argue. “Your turn,” you say quickly, handing him the deck before you can get too caught up in the way he’s looking at you.

Jake takes a card, glancing at it before meeting your eyes. “What’s something you’re afraid of?”

His tone is light, but his gaze holds you in place, and for a moment, you think he might already know your answer.

Jake studies you with quiet intensity, the kind that makes your heart beat faster despite the fact that you’re sitting still. It’s unnerving, the way he’s so present, like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

You laugh nervously, breaking the silence. “You’re really good at this whole ‘deep questions’ thing, huh?”

He shrugs, his lips curving into a small smile. “I just think it’s better than small talk. You can learn a lot about someone in five minutes if you ask the right questions.”

“And what have you learned about me so far?” you challenge, your voice teasing, though your hands fidget with the hem of your shirt.

Jake leans back slightly, resting his chin on his hand as if he’s giving your question serious thought. “You’re honest, even when it makes you vulnerable. You notice the little things—like someone’s eyes—and that says a lot about how you see the world.”

Your breath catches in your throat. For a guy you just met, Jake’s words feel heavy, like they’re meant to be remembered.

“And you’re really bad at accepting compliments,” he adds, smirking when you roll your eyes.

“Okay, Mr. Mind Reader,” you say, grabbing the deck of cards. “My turn.”

You draw a card and squint at the text, the letters swimming slightly in your still-tipsy vision. “What’s the last thing you lied about?”

Jake doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he looks down at the floor, running a hand through his hair. “That I didn’t mind helping my roommates clean up after their last party,” he says finally, his tone light.

You narrow your eyes at him, sensing there’s more he isn’t saying. “Lame answer. I bet you’ve got something better.”

Jake laughs softly, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. You want the truth?”

You nod, leaning forward slightly, your curiosity piqued.

“I lied when I said I wasn’t nervous about meeting new people tonight,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “I usually stick to my circle. But then I saw you, and…it didn’t feel as hard.”

Your heart stumbles over itself. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” His eyes meet yours, and the air between you shifts, charged with something you can’t quite name. “You walked into that party like you belonged there, like you weren’t afraid of anything. It made me want to stick around.”

You stare at him, the warmth in his gaze so sincere it feels like it might burn you if you look too long. “Well,” you say, your voice unsteady, “you made it look easy.”

He smiles, but there’s a hint of something deeper behind it, something you want to unravel. “Your turn,” he says, nodding at the cards still clutched in your hands.

You draw another one, your fingers trembling slightly. “What’s something you want people to know about you, but you’re afraid to tell them?”

Jake leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and the movement pulls you closer, like gravity. “That I don’t have it all figured out,” he says after a moment. “People assume I do, because I stay calm or don’t say much. But most of the time, I’m just as unsure as everyone else.”

The honesty in his words settles over you, heavy but comforting. You wonder how someone can feel like a stranger and a friend all at once.

“You seem pretty sure of yourself to me,” you say softly, watching the way his lips twitch into a faint smile.

“Maybe I’m just good at pretending,” he murmurs.

“Or maybe,” you counter, your voice just above a whisper, “you’re exactly who you’re supposed to be, and you don’t need to pretend.”

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The silence feels full, not awkward, like the two of you are sharing something that doesn’t need words.

“Your turn,” he says finally, his voice barely breaking the quiet.

But you don’t pick up another card. Instead, you meet his gaze, your chest tight with a mix of nerves and something else—admiration, maybe. “What are you thinking right now?” you ask, your voice trembling just slightly.

Jake doesn’t look away. “That I’m glad you ended up here.”

You swallow hard, your pulse racing as his words sink in. The way he says it, low and steady, makes it sound like a confession.

“I guess I am too,” you admit, your voice softer now.

Jake watches you with a mix of amusement and something he can’t quite put a name to. Your head tilts to one side, your eyes half-lidded as you fight the inevitable pull of sleep. You’re a little drunk, sure, but there’s something so endearing about the way you’re trying so hard to keep up with him.

“You’re losing the battle,” he teases gently, the corner of his mouth lifting.

You groan softly, a sound more pout than protest. “I’m not losing. Just… taking a break.”

Your words tumble out in a sleepy slur, and Jake can’t help but smile. He shifts on the edge of the bed, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “You don’t have to try so hard, you know.”

Your eyes flutter open, catching him mid-stare. “Why’re you looking at me like that?” you mumble, your voice thick with sleep.

Jake straightens a little, caught off guard. “Like what?”

“Like…” You blink, struggling to focus on him. “Like you’re trying to figure me out.”

He laughs softly, his voice low. “Maybe I am.”

The room feels quieter somehow, like the world outside his door has disappeared entirely. You shift against the pillows, blinking slowly at him. “Do you watch Netflix?”

Jake raises a brow, thrown by the sudden question. “Yeah, I watch Netflix.”

You nod as if that settles everything and slide back against the wall, pulling the comforter with you. With a small, shy smile, you lift up the corner, inviting him in.

Jake hesitates, his breath catching for just a second. But then he grabs his laptop from the desk and places it carefully at the foot of the bed before climbing in beside you. The mattress dips slightly under his weight, and your shoulder brushes against his as you lean into him, your head finding its place against his shoulder like it’s where you were always meant to be.

“What do you wanna watch?” he asks softly, opening Netflix and scrolling through the options.

“Something funny,” you murmur, your words fading as you tuck yourself closer to him.

Jake picks a random sitcom and presses play, but it doesn’t take long for him to realize you’ve already drifted off. Your breathing is slow and steady, your lashes casting soft shadows on your cheeks.

For a moment, he just sits there, the glow of the screen washing over both of you. Your head is heavy against his shoulder, and your hand, half-curled, rests near his arm. You look peaceful, like you’ve never known a bad dream.

Jake adjusts the blanket over you, careful not to wake you, and leans his head back against the wall. He tries to close his eyes, but every time sleep creeps in, he snaps awake, his gaze darting to you as if to make sure you’re still okay.

You mumble something in your sleep, a sound so soft he can barely catch it, but it makes his heart ache in the strangest way.

“You’re kind of amazing,” he whispers, so quietly it’s almost a thought instead of words.

Jake hasn’t stopped watching you, not really. It’s been about thirty minutes, but every time his eyelids start to droop, he snaps them open again. His mind won’t quiet. There’s so much he doesn’t know about you, and that’s what’s driving him crazy.

Do you have a boyfriend? He swallows at the thought, glancing down at you. Wouldn’t someone have come looking for you by now? Did you come here with someone? Are they pacing around that crowded house, freaking out about where you went?

But you smell… amazing. It’s subtle, like citrus and something warm he can’t quite place, and it’s messing with him. How does someone he met barely an hour ago feel like someone he’s already known forever? Like the weight of your head on his shoulder belongs there, like this moment is supposed to be happening. It freaks him out.

Then your phone buzzes, the shrill ringtone cutting through the quiet. You stir, your brows furrowing, and Jake is immediately on alert.

You fumble for the phone, your movements uncoordinated as you squint at the screen. “Hello?” you croak, putting it on speaker before your voice can betray you further.

“Y/N! Oh my God, where are you? Are you okay?” your friend’s voice crackles through the speaker, sharp with concern but also tinged with curiosity.

Your head lolls to the side, and Jake feels your shoulder bump against his arm. “I’m okay,” you say, your voice raspy and soft. “I promise.”

“Well, I’m more than okay,” your friend continues, her voice dropping into a dreamy tone. “I just met this guy, Jay. Y/N, I’m pretty sure I’ve found the love of my life.”

Jake snorts before he can stop himself, and you do the same, a tired, knowing laugh bubbling up as you cover your mouth. You both know your friends well enough to see where this is going.

Your friend, oblivious, keeps going. “Where are you, though? Did you go back to your dorm, or—wait—did you hook up with some frat guy? Tell me everything.”

You glance at Jake, and his face is caught between a grin and a grimace, his hand already rubbing the back of his neck like he’s embarrassed for being part of this conversation.

“I’m safe,” you say simply, and Jake’s chest tightens at your words. Safe. It’s a small thing, but it feels big coming from you.

The call ends shortly after, and the room settles back into its quiet rhythm. You let out a breath, turning onto your back to stare up at the ceiling. “You can kick me out if you want,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m just grateful you were kind enough to make sure I was okay.”

Jake looks over at you, his head tilting. He doesn’t know how to respond right away, his thoughts getting tangled. Are you used to this—people not showing up for you? Are you used to not being made to feel safe? The questions build in his chest, but he pushes them aside, telling himself it’s not the time.

Instead, what he says is something that surprises even himself.

“I don’t want to sleep alone tonight,” he admits, his voice low, his words slurred just slightly from the alcohol.

You turn your head, your gaze meeting his in the dim light. There’s something vulnerable in his expression, something that makes your heart skip despite the haze in your mind.

You don’t say anything, but you don’t have to. The silence between you feels warmer now, softer. And when Jake shifts closer, pulling the blanket up over both of you, it feels natural, like the easiest thing in the world.

The two of you settle in, the sound of your breathing filling the room. Jake stays awake a little longer, his eyes on you, his heart pounding softly in his chest. There’s still so much he doesn’t know about you, but somehow, he knows this moment is something he’ll carry with him.

For now, though, he lets himself rest, even if it’s just for a little while.

The morning light filters through the blinds, soft and golden, but it feels like needles against your closed eyelids. You groan, rolling onto your back, and that’s when you remember—Jake.

He’s still next to you, sitting upright against the headboard, his arms crossed over his chest. His head dips forward slightly like he tried to stay awake but lost the battle somewhere in the early hours of the morning.

You stir, and his eyes flutter open. For a moment, he looks disoriented, and then he sees you. And just like that, he’s wide awake.

“Morning,” he says, his voice rough but kind.

“Morning,” you croak back, your voice embarrassingly raspy. You clear your throat and sit up slowly, pressing your fingertips to your temples. “Did I… snore?”

Jake grins, leaning forward slightly. “You did. Just a little.”

Your face heats up, and you try to play it off with a laugh. “Great. That’s just perfect. Did I do anything else? Like, anything crazy?”

Jake shakes his head, his expression soft and a little sleepy. “No. You were fine. Just… really cute. Like, in the way you couldn’t keep your eyes open but kept trying to ask me questions anyway.”

You fidget with the edge of the blanket, glancing at him through your lashes. “And… we didn’t…?”

He sits up straighter, his tone steady. “No. Nothing happened. I wouldn’t��” He pauses, his gaze locking on yours. “I would never. We just talked, and then you fell asleep. That’s it.”

Something about the certainty in his voice makes your chest ache. You don’t know why you believe him, but you do.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, and you grab it, wincing when you see your friend’s name lighting up the screen. “I’m downstairs when you’re ready,” she says, her voice far too chipper for this time of morning.

You hang up and glance at Jake, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Guess that’s my ride.”

For a second, neither of you moves. It’s like the moment is hanging there, suspended between you, and you don’t want to let it go.

Before you lose your nerve, you reach for a pen on his desk and scrawl your number on a scrap of paper. Folding it neatly, you hand it to him.

“Thanks for everything,” you say, leaning down to kiss his cheek. His skin is warm, and when you pull back, you swear you see the faintest hint of pink on his face.

Jake watches as you grab your things, his heart pounding like it’s trying to tell him something important. He wants to say something, anything, to make you stay just a little longer, but the words won’t come.

And then you’re gone.

Hours later, you’re still thinking about him. About his room that smelled faintly of cedar and soap. About the way he stayed awake for you, even when he didn’t have to. About the way he smiled at you like he already knew all your best parts.

You keep trying to brush it off. It was one night. You were both drunk. It doesn’t mean anything.

But then your phone vibrates, and your heart stumbles when you see his name.

Hey, it's Jake. I hope you made it home safe. I just wanted to say thank you for everything last night. I really hope I get to see you again soon.

You read it once. Then again. And before you know it, you’re smiling, your face warm, your heart lighter than it’s felt in a long time.

Maybe nothing will come of it. Maybe this is all it is. But still, you can’t help but wonder—what if it isn’t?

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screamforyani · 2 months ago

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warnings: noncon, knife play, choking

wc. 1.9k

friday nights were reserved for the gang, because after a hellish week of academics, you were itching for a break. the eight of you were at chad and ethan’s dorm this time, splurging whatever alcohol they had on deck. you weren’t at all surprised to find that they had barely anything edible in the kitchen other than beer and that was specifically why you ordered a pizza on your way over. multiple boxes. chad ate like a bear.

with the ghostface killings resurfacing, things had been drastically different in town lately, which was why the eight of you decided to stick together (like you didn’t already do that). even with the wickedness surrounding you in such close proximity, you were glad your friends proved to be a great distraction from the fact that bodies were probably dropping as you spoke.

“i’m just saying,” you started, throwing a pizza crust at chad’s head for a stupid remark he had made. “anika and mindy are self-explanatory, chad is a textbook fratboy, quinn calls herself sex positive, and even tara could get some if sam wasn’t so far up her ass.”

“thanks a lot,” sam replied, deadpan.

“my point is,” you continued. “ethan is the token virgin of the group and he just might die un-deflowered.”

mindy laughed at ethan’s expense, which he clearly wasn’t particularly happy about, but he didn’t say anything.

chad threw his arm over ethan’s shoulder and came to his roomie’s defense, “not too much on my boy now. come on, he’s got the looks. hey, man, show us that smile.”

rather than smiling himself, chad forced ethan’s lip’s into a grin with his fingers.

“see,” chad said. “he’s a lady killer. look at that smile.”

“i’m swooning,” tara joked.

you snickered.

that was the beginning of the end.

you didn’t think much of your jokes. you were just poking fun at ethan, that was all. you weren’t trying to be malicious. they were just jokes. mildly mean jokes.

the clocked ticked past midnight and eventually you all started to disperse. with a killer on the loose, you guys traveled at a minimum of pairs at night, so quinn volunteered to walk you home and stay the night.

there was something in the air that night, other than the little nip and the dark, scattered clouds hanging above you. something inexplicably dark, though that was could probably be reasonably explained by your paranoia, since there was at least one killer on the hunt for victims in new york city. you didn’t want to be one of them, though considering you were friends with the woodsboro survivors, it went without saying you were a likely target.

“quinn,” called out some dude you hardly recognized on the street.

quinn glanced his way, waving.

“got a sec?” he asked.

you wanted to roll your eyes at this point. probably one of her hook-ups, because she was so ‘sex positive,’ as she kindly called it.

“uh,” quinn drawled, making a face. she glanced back at you. “i kind of don’t.”

you shook your head, giving her a pat. “it’s fine. go. the building is right up the block, we’ll be okay.”

“are you sure?”

“mm-hm,” you hummed. “the door’ll be locked, but i’ll wait up.”

“be safe,” quinn whispered, giving you a thumbs up.

you waved her off. “you, too.”

then, you started walking towards your place. it was fine; somewhat chilly, but fine. you rubbed your arms, wishing you would have layered up a little more. you were definitely going to steal one of chad’s hoodies the next time you were over, not that he had to know.

out of nowhere, you heard a noise by an alleyway. you froze in place, stiffening. that was very, very strange. it’s okay, you reassured yourself, scanning the dim alleyway. there was nobody, as far as you were concerned. no one’s there. besides, it wasn’t like a killer was going to abruptly snatch you into an alleyway.

except that was exactly what happened.

you screamed, loud enough for someone to hear, that was if there was anybody nearby. unfortunately for you, it was just you and whoever the hell was in this ghostface outfit whose mask eyes you were staring into. he had you against a wall, struggling, because like hell you would go down without a fight.

that was until he pointed that goddamn knife at you and said in that ghost face voice, “stay still or i’ll slice your throat for all your friends to find.”

you stilled instantly, tears forming in your eyes, though you fought them with everything you had. you were stronger than this. “what do you want?” you croaked.

he dragged the knife down your chest, making you hold your breath, and ripped your shirt open. “you.”

you sucked in a breath.

“if you’re good, i’ll let you go. and if you’re notâ€¦,” he trailed off, bringing the knife back up and applying just enough pressure at your throat to scare you, but not cut you. “i’ll gut you like a fish.”

the look of terror on your face made him laugh and you just swallowed, trying to damp your dry throat. but it was no use. not when he was flipping up your skirt and cutting off your panties. you wanted to fight back, but you were too scared of what would happen if you failed to flee. besides, according to quinn’s dad, the killer was probably somebody already in your lives, which meant even if you escaped now, they could come back and kill you whenever they got ready. essentially, it was a lose-lose situation.

“are you going to be a good girl?”

you bobbed your head.

the killer lifted your chin up with the side of the knife. “i want to hear you say it.”

“i’ll beâ€¦ i’ll be a good girl,” you whispered.

that seemed to please him, because he moved the knife and lifted you against the wall just before sliding into you without warning. you made a noise, caught off guard, but you doubted he really cared to warn you. or prepare you, for that matter. he went deeper with every thrust, slowly but surely filling you to the hilt, and a single tear dropped down your cheek.

you were rendered absolutely helpless. he still had that knife on him and you knew he wasn’t afraid of butchering you if that was what it a look, plus his fingers were digging into your hips as he hissed in ecstacy, wallowing in the heat of you.

“you feel so good,” he groaned. “how’s it feel to know all you’ll ever amount to in life is being a little slut?”

“i’m notâ€¦,”

“you are,” he snarled, menacing. “hooking up with random guys knowing there’s a killer waiting to spill your guts out at any given moment? if you wanted to die a whore so badly, all you had to do was ask.”

die a whore, you thought, baffled. it reminded you of earlier tonight, when you said ethan might die a virgin. of course, you didn’t make that connection. ethan, a killer? pfft. he could barely look you in the eyes for too long.

it was maddening that you kind of liked the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls, whoever he was in the first place. you were fighting the moans of pleasure, but the more degrading words spilled from his mouth, the more you were tightening around his size. not to mention that he filled you perfectly.

most of what you heard, trapped between his chest and an alleyway wall, was his uncontrollable groans of pleasure, though altered because of the stupid voice device attached to his outfit. which made him completely undistinguishable and it was impossible to identify him.

all you could do was quite literally watch him take you, whether you wanted it or not. it was brutal how he fucked you up against the wall, giving you nowhere to run or hide. you put your hands against his chest idly, just to have someplace to keep them.

when a moan slipped out, you covered your mouth with one of your palms, much to the killer’s amusement. “not so fast,” he said, moving your hand and taunting you with that damn knife again. “i want to hear you. if you weren’t a whore, you wouldn’t like my cock so much.”

you whimpered, “iâ€¦ i don’tâ€¦”

“lying will get you chopped up,” he interjected.

you swallowed.

“can’t wait to cream this tight pussy. maybe i should i knock you up so that you’ll always remember this occasion,” ghostface mused aloud, making you instantly panic.

you writhed, trying to escape his hold. “no, no, please. please don’t. i’ll do anything - i’ll do whatever you want.”

“i already have everything i want right here,” ghostface said, cutting up your bra and tossing it into oblivion to never be seen again. you stiffened when you felt the cold blade against your bare, naked breasts. the message was subtle, but clear, and you immediately froze.

the cool air was throttling you alive, thanks to your exposed skin, but you could hardly feel it against the feeling of warmth inside you, spreading to your head and thighs from between your legs.

you were so close, that you knew. you could feel it building against your will. though you wanted to fight it, it was impossible with how he was hitting you in all the right spots. you might have hated it, but your body knew what it wanted and you couldn’t tell it anything different.

your sounds pitched louder, which was a weakness to the ghostface, because you sounded like heaven itself and he couldn’t shake the urge to fill you to the brim even if he wanted. and you knew not cumming inside you was probably the very last thing on his mind. if anything, a guy of this nature would do it solely because it was the opposite of what you wanted.

the last thing you remembered hearing for a couple of minutes was the sound of the knife dropping against the cold, hard ground before he wrapped his fingers around your throat, effectively choking you out. you climaxed at one point, but it was all a blur, and by the time you could think normally again all you could feel was his load dripping out of your cunt, spilling down your legs. you felt dirty.

“you were very, very good,” ghostface said, setting you back down. your knees wobbled and you groped the wall to anchor yourself.

what you were least prepared for, however, was the moment when he threw off his mask and revealed his true self.

you gawked, betrayal stirring in your chest. “fucking ethan?”

he smiled wickedly. “surprise.”

you felt a number of things, but fear was your primary emotion. “you’re notâ€¦ the killer, are you?”

“of course not, silly,” ethan replied. “i just wanted to scare you a little. think of it as revenge.”

you silently narrowed your eyes at him. you weren’t sure if you believed him or not, because you didn’t know what to believe right now. you were in shock.

ethan tilted his head, creeping a little closer to you. still smiling. “you don’t believe me.”

you were just trying to make sense of it. squinting, you asked, “why go this far, then?”

“because you have to learn,” he said, this sinister look to him that you’d never seen before. usually, he was just cute and dorky. but he was unrecognizable right now.

for a long second, you just stared into his eyes, before darting to the ground to pick up the knife. only, he was a step ahead of you, swiping it up and pointing it at you until your back met the wall again. “you’re a smart girl, but ignorance is bliss,” he hissed. “now if i were you, i wouln’t mention a word of this to anyone.”

you gulped.

#ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry #scream 6 imagines

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callooopie · 7 months ago

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Modern!Jacaerys Velaryon headcannons (pt. 1)

Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool, but he’s not as cool as me — Brooklyn Baby // Lana Del Rey

I look away from my TV for one second only to look back and see Jacaerys mewing at me while a deadly and violent war is being discussed

You meet at a college party. Definitely. He looks like a party girl. Jace Targaryen(?) (Targaryen? or perhaps Strong in this modern world? Certainly not Velaryon, as I would assume Rhaenyra would have a choice of who she married in this world) gives off either reliable fratboy energy, or kind and quiet student you sit by in your class (He shows you his notes if you missed something. He gives you his number too—just in case you had questions!) Is the type to silently sneak glances at you during lectures. Maybe you even catch him staring once?

Meeting his family is.. overwhelming. On one hand it’s big. Like really big, a little confusing sometimes. On the other hand? Why’s everyone so hot? What are these genes?! His mom, his dad, his half-family members, his friends?!?! You’re sitting there at the family function like ?!?!

Speaking of family—he’s a big family guy. He loves his mom and his dad, he adores his brothers, he tolerates his half-uncles and whatnot. Jacaerys shows you to his mother in her office, and to his father doing work around the house. I believe he would be the type to wrangle and line up his brothers for you and go down the line introducing them. “This here’s Luke, aaand little Joffrey. They shouldn’t give you any trouble—Joffrey’s a little brat though..”

(Joffrey runs up to you and tells you to say skibidi gyat rizz before running off in a fit of giggles—) “…yeah—sorry ‘bout that. He’s in a phase right now..”

When you first meet his mom and dad as only “Jace’s friend” (Rhaenyra and Harwin.. </3) they are ecstatic to meet you. They think you’re lovely! Hip!—is that what the kids are saying these days? Rhaenyra has a knowing look on her face as Jacaerys reminds her that you’re only a “friend” and Harwin goes along like “Oh yeahhh… Jace’s friend.. riiiight” (the label of friend was gone in a week at most. Instead of “Jace’s friend” you were now “Jace’s girlfriend/boyfriend”) his parents saw it coming a mile or two away they weren’t surprised. And they hope you come around more often for dinners and things.

Jace is in a band (with Davos OOP) and Cregan (this dude.. graduated like a year or two before them and they all still hang out?), along with a few others. What? Oh yeah—they do little gigs and stuff. He plays bass, kinda the glue of the team if you catch his drift.. it’s tough work but anything to pursue musical passion right? (“Band practice” consists of smoking weed and watching shitty YouTube videos in a garage. They can and do play though so.. you guess it works?)

If you tag along with that merry bunch.. please know you’re babysitting now (mainly Jace and Davos. Cregan disappears but reappears when needed most—“kinda his thing”) think of the most stupidest thing two college-age guys could do… and go stupider. Breaking into abandoned buildings, arson, meeting the most suspicious plugs in the pitch black woods or sewers. Not how you’d imagine your Friday night to be spent but here you are. “This guy said he had something CRAZY.. and only for $20–that’s a deal in today’s economy.”

That’s his silly side. Normal every Jacaerys is serious. It’s almost a little off-putting. He’s very reserved as well, although with you there’s some cracks in that stoic facade. He’s the type to have a smile tug on his lips if you take a “sneaky” video or photo of him. Maybe while you both are in a study room and you just need something for a Snapstreak or insta story. Who else should be caught on camera than Jace as he’s deep into a textbook, twirling a pen between his fingers while swiveling side to side in a chair. “Hm? ..what’re you looking at girly? ..me? Pfft—shut up..”

I believe Jace would be the type to have a wide range of music he listens to. Only him. From alternative indie to folk to heavy metal to edm. He’s got range, he’s got tastes. He totally has a vinyl collection (yes it’s by a window and yes there’s plants near it)

Outrageous closet. Not in a bad way, in a really really good way. Probably the best dressed man you’ve ever seen. Things that shouldn’t work together for an outfit, work on him and only him (It’s like the Rhianna effect—an outfit looks ugly on someone else, but on Rhianna? It looks amazing. Iconic) the other way to describe his fashion sense is he dresses like a character from JoJo’s bizarre adventure. If there was an enemy stand user—it’d be Jacaerys.

His bedroom makes you believe in men again. It’s so nice, so cozy and smells so good. Blankets are always cooled, there’s just a sense of security around. HOWEVER. His pillows fucking suck. He’s the type to not replace anything like that unless absolutely necessary. They’re flat, dead, and make your hair slightly oily. He has a mountain of pillows but what good is that if they’re all lacking in support?! “I can open a window if y’want—it gets pretty hot in here sometimes. Hm? What’s up? My pillows? …it’s fine- they’re fine, look at them. You know how expensive-“

Everything bad about Davos’s car? Forget about it! Jace puts pride into his car. He cleans it regularly (Saturdays are for car deep cleaning, no exceptions) His parents did buy it for him for his 16th birthday. However he’s kept it in a very good condition so. Some stickers will be on the back, but it’s usually like “her body her choice” or “go for green energy” ..based Jace. (If perhaps Rhaenyra is a political figure in this modern world.. you bet your ass Jace is gonna have a campaign sticker for his mom on his car) “Just right over here is my car—lemme get your door. It’s okay if you get it dirty, I’ll just clean it… —although be careful—“

Speaking of cleaning his car—he will ask you to help him sometimes. Mainly in the summer, when you’re more likely to be wearing an outfit consisting of the smallest and tightest jean shorts and either a tank top or a bikini top. It’s a little hard to wash a car when he’s gripping the sponge tightly and letting his eyes rake down your body—what? No he wasn’t staring. He was looking at something past you. What’s that in his pants? See now you’re just being mean about it—

While Jacaerys partakes in a cigarette now and then, he’s more partial to alcohol. I feel he wouldn’t like the idea of smoking (It’s just things with lungs y’know? ..plus I don’t wanna die before that fucker Davos—“). Jace is a fiend with how he hoards bottles or drinks. Beers, hard alcohols, etc. Dude knows how to throw a whole bottle back like it’s nothing. He keeps a collection of empty bottles for fun (in his closet so his parents don’t find it) or if he lives alone they’re just freely out and around (or maybe still in the closet). “Whaaat? Slow down? Pfft—please, I’m good. Nah this is like water to me now. Have you ever had this?”

#jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys x you #hotd season 2 #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd x you #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #modern!jacaerys

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kiestrokes · 4 months ago

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Say My Name | Teaser | NSFW

Pairing: fratboy!Song Mingi x Reader/You/Yn Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI.Genre: smut, fluff, mild angst. Warnings: consensual peer pressure, high school sweetheart breakups, college, frat boys, parties, everyone is 21 or older so no underage drinking among the main characters. Reminder this is just a wip teaser, and not the final product. Parts are subject to change in the end.

Sexually Explicit Content: eluding to an open relationship/poly!Wooyoung x Yunho x Reader nothing else for the teaser, but there will be an explicit smut scene so, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Summary: You and Yunho have been childhood best friends since your mothers grew up together, living in different towns but spending all the holidays together. The friendship has always been light and easy, never serious. Reconnecting in college and exploring each other in new ways. After a second breakup with your high school sweetheart, Yunho propositions you to break your dry spell with his new fraternity brother transfer and high school friend Song Mingi. How could you say no?

🗝️ Note: Because if I never post this teaser, I will never get this fic out. This is me, holding me, accountable. ANYWAY like so many of my fic ideas this was pushed lovingly forward by @chans-room. As I couldn't shut up about the Booty Werk Yunho/Woo dance. I did write it in part to wreck gift to @minisugakoobies they have a fratboy!Hongjoong fic you all should check out. Sunny and @minttangerines were kind enough to beta it for me when I felt stuck last month, and I have added some additional parts that I hope make the fic feel more well-rounded and substantial.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

Posting Date: 10/18/2023 • Part 2 Teaser

You hadn’t added anyone new to your friend group since sophomore year when your childhood friend Yeosang had showed up at your University with Wooyoung. Which felt like forever ago but had only been three semesters. The two had taken their first semester abroad in the German exchange program.

Even then, none of your friends had ever had sex with just you. Sure, Wooyoung got drunk at parties and enjoyed making out with any of you that were willing and dancing dirty all over the sticky frat or sorority floors.

Frat president Hongjoong was definitely not among the willing. He’d frozen up like a board when Wooyoung planted a sloppy kiss on him during his election celebration.

Speaking of the devil, Kim Hongjoong was sauntering up to your table, with a wicked smile on his lips. Oh no.

“Yunho told me you were finally single and ready to Mingle.” Hongjoong fixed you with a reading stare and challenging smirk.

“HJ, not today.” You groan.

He slides onto the table top, “no not today, but next Friday.” He plucks a fry from your dwindling order.

You naw on your bottom lip, as Yunho approaches with Seonghwa. It seemed Hongjoong had escaped them in order to harass you first.

“Are they coming?” Seonghwa asked excitedly, slipping his black hoodie off one shoulder to expose a black tank top below.

You look up and right into the puppy dog eyes of Yunho, “We have another surprise for you.”

Wooyoung squeezes your elbow and with the deepest sigh you consent.

“Fine, I’ll be there and Yeosang will too.”

“What?” Yeosang’s head whips to you from where he was slipping into the bench beside Wooyoung.

“I’ll explain later.” Wooyoung taps his arm as Yeosang continues to bounce a confused stare from you to the frat boys across from you.

“Lovely!” Hongjoong claps his hands together excitedly, like the mad magician he is.

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cameronspecial · 1 year ago

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I Will Marry You, Rafe

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.0K (Exactly, that's so satisfying to me).

Summary: Rafe has an important question to ask Y/N.

Masterlist

Rafe rarely gets nervous. The only time that he really does is when it comes to Y/N. She is his entire world and he would do anything to keep her in his life. And as he stares down at the small diamond ring, he can’t help but feel the layer of liquid that dampens his palms. He wipes it off on his pants as he listens to the MC announce the names of each student. He closes the box and puts it in his pockets when they get to Y/N’s section. “Y/N Y/L/N,” leaves the lips of the MC and travels through the room thanks to the speakers. Rafe is the first to stand out of her group of supporters, “That’s my girl! GO Y/N. I love you, Angel!” He hollers and claps as loud as he can, pumping his hand in the air. He is so proud of how hard she has worked to get her degree with honours. She has kept her grades up and now, she gets to start her master’s degree at her first-choice university. He sees her looking at him with a massive grin. He quickly gets his phone out to take a picture of her getting handed her degree, checking that her family videotaped her walk across the stage. They have prime seats, being right behind the students waiting to go on stage. Rafe’s money definitely shifted hands for him and the Y/L/N family to have such amazing seats. He follows her walk off of the stage, worrying that she won’t be happy with the question he has to ask.

——

His jacket drapes over her shoulders, providing warmth against the cold night. They are walking up the steps of the house they have been renting since the semester ended. The house isn’t something permanent, just a placeholder until they find a place in Cambridge. Ward didn’t love the idea of Rafe moving out to Massachusetts, but he knows how serious Rafe is about Y/N so Ward agreed to let Rafe work remotely for the year that Y/N is doing the Master’s. Rafe would have to fly down every month for a Friday meeting, but they are going to make it work.

Y/N cuddles closer to Rafe with his arm draped across her shoulder. “I can’t believe we are done with our undergraduate degree,” she thinks out loud, resting her head on his shoulder. His head darts to check the text on his phone and then looks at her. His lips meet her temple before he removes his hold from her, taking the keys out of his pocket. He unlocks the door and hesitates to push it open. His life is going to change after tonight and he is scared it might change for the worse. He also isn’t sure if he should’ve tasked his fraternity brothers with such an important thing. Sure, Sarah, Wheezie, and Daisy are leading them, but the now-graduated fratboys were never great at decorating or following orders. He knows if he doesn’t enter the house soon, Y/N will get suspicious. His thumb pushes down on the thumb latch and he pushes the door open. The usual darkness is cut with the light from the path made out of candles. She turns to him to see if he is just as confused as she is. All she finds is his small smile and things start to fall into place for her.

“I will marry you, Rafe,” she utters softly, wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss him. He pulls away with a laugh, “I haven’t even asked you anything yet.” “I know, but I can see right through you. I’ve noticed how nervous you are and how you are always checking your phone for a text. That coupled with the house being mysteriously decorated makes it kinda obvious,” she grins, playing with the hair at the back of his neck. He groans, “Damn, my angel is so smart. You read me like a book. Will you at least let me take you inside and do what I had planned?” She nods and he drags her deeper into the house.

In the living room, they find eight large characters, decorated with white feathers and fairy lights. Eight characters. Two words and a question mark. MARRY ME? Y/N’s hand finds her mouth. The beauty of the dim room amazes her. Candles and rose petals litter the room and the melody of “Say Yes To Heaven” plays without the lyrics, reminding her of that fateful night during spring break. She turns toward Rafe to find him kneeling on the ground on one knee. In his hand, he holds a small velvet box with a simple but elegant diamond ring inside of it. “When I first saw you at that party three years ago, I thought I was so intoxicated that I was seeing things. Because there was no way that a real-life angel could’ve been right in front of me and ever since that day you have been bringing a little slice of Heaven to me,” he recounts and she can see the tears in his eyes. “You have been my everything ever since that day. My supporter. My defender. My rock. And I want that for the rest of my life, so please say that you will be the angel to my devil for the rest of our lives?” She goes to sit on his thigh and he moves his arms to surround her. Her arms go around his neck and she rests her forehead on his. “Yes.”

He grins at her, kissing her as he puts the ring on her left ring finger. He feels so lucky that he gets to spend the rest of his life with the woman in front of him. People may think that they are too young to be getting married, but Rafe has never been so sure of something in his life.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

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seros-girl · 2 months ago

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something in the orange| fratboy!katsuki bakugo x f!softgirl!reader

summary: childhood competitive friends take a college cooking course together for fun. katsuki bakugo, our amazing frat boy, and y/n, our amazing soft hearted girl. katsuki has a soft spot for her, but because of his ego won't let it show. denki being denki, lets a secret spill out which can ultimately make or break your friendship with katsuki bakugo

authors note: reader is best friends with denki, sero, kyoka, and tenya!!

chapter 4: first dates & carrot cakes

you sat on the sofa with denki, hanta, tenya, and eijiro, talking. “how are you and honenuki” denki teases you and you blush. “our first date is this friday” you said and all the boys start cheering.

“atta girl” eijiro says nudging your shoulder. “where’s he taking you?” tenya asks as katsuki walks down the stairs and sees all of you on the couch. “dinner and then bowling” you said as katsuki took a seat next to tenya.

“sounds like a lame first date” he grumbles and tenya punches his arm discreetly. “just saying you could do better” he scoffs looking the other way. you got up from your spot upset. you only looked at him before walking towards the stairs.

you unlock your room and grab your dance bag. you need to get some practice in. you grab everything you need and walk back down and out of the dormitory complex with all the boys giving katsuki disapproving looks.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” eijiro said pushing katsuki into the couch. “if it were up to me i’d take her somewhere better” he said rolling his eyes. “yea but youre too pussy to say anything. swallow your pride and just do it or i will” denki threatened.

“you open your mouth and i’ll kill you” katsuki stared at denki and he only shrugged. “i mean if it’ll get you somewhere why not” and hanta bursts out laughing. “dude believe me as fucked up as this sounds it looks like she’s only using honenuki to get her mind off of you” hanta said and katsuki looks at him.

“keep going” he mumbles and hanta takes a deep breath. “i’ve seen the way she looks at you. the way she got jealous when mina sat too close, she blushes in your vicinty man. i think her plan was to always find someone here to move on from you” he explains and katsuki goes deep into thought.

“and it’ll work cause honenuki is a great guy who’s willing to treat her right. heck he’s cautious because of you” eijiro said and katsuki only sits there, arms crossed.

“let her go on this date man, let her talk to you about it, dont be an ass” tenya said and everyone’s eyes widened. “did you just say ass?” denki said and tenya nods his head. “am i not allowed to?” he looks around and all the guys start laughing.

katsuki nods his head and gets up. “where you going?” denki said watching him. “dance building” he mumbles and everyone wishes him a good luck. he pulls his phone out to send you a text.

to y/n 🐇🎀🤍

im coming to the dance building let me in?

he sees you start typing and then it stops. he looks confused and he sees you only react with a thumbs up leaving him on read.

he quickly makes his way over and sees you standing outside. you dont say anything and let him in. he closes the door to the private room and he sighs.

“‘m sorry” he says when he turns around to face you. you crossed your arms across your chest, staring at him. “its not a lame first date idea” he mumbles looking down at the ground.

“you hurt my feelings kats” you muttered fidgeting with your fingers. he sighs softly and rubs a hand across his face. he moves to you and hesitantly wraps his arm around you pulling you into a hug.

“tell me all about it when you get back on friday?” he asks with hope laced in his voice. you nod your head and detached from him. “juzo’s a great guy” you smiled and moved to the center to start stretching.

“i know he is” he says sitting down on the floor next to your gym bag and watches you dance for the next 2 hours.

●~*

you add finishing touches to your makeup and you smile in the mirror. kyoka, hanta, and denki sit on your bed watching you get ready. “okay help me out guys” you said as you got up and moved to your closet.

your pulled out a baby yellow dress with a pink cardigan and white converse as your first outfit choice. “aww thats adorable” denki said as you hung it up for them to see.

you pulled out a white tube top, a baby yellow cardigan, black baggy jeans, and the same shoe choice for the second. “do you know where dinner is?” hanta asked as he got up.

“no i assume you guys do” you said rubbing your arm. “we do” denki said moving to stand next to hanta. a knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts. you move to open it and see eijiro, tenya, and katsuki.

you let them in and stand with the other boys to examine the outfit choices. “you boys know where dinner is?” kyoka asked as she stood next to denki. they nod their heads and katsuki speaks up. “the dress” he mumbles out and you nod grabbing it off the hanger.

you go to your bathroom, changing quickly. you walked out a did a twirl for your friends. they hyped you up and you move to your vanity to spray some perfume.

you grabbed it off the vanity and sprayed a generous amount. “take it babes” kyoka said and you put it in your purse. you looked in the mirror and something is missing. “headband or no?” you asked picking up a thin white headband you had and turned to your friends.

“try it on” hanta said as he observed. you put it on and smiled. “yes wear it” eijiro immediately says and you giggle turning around to grab your purse. “you guys wanna walk me out or hang out in here till i get back?” you asked grabbing your keys to your dorm.

“duh walking you out but hand over the keys to your room” kyoka said as she hopped off your bed and the rest followed. they all piled out of your room and you gave the keys to kyoka.

you walk down the stairs nervous and excited. you walk out of the dormitory complex and see juzo standing there with flowers. “have fun” tenya teases and you look back at your friends. “be safe” denki waves and you gratefully take the flowers from juzo.

“theyre so pretty thank you” you blush grabbing his hand as he leads you to his car. he opens your door and waits for you to get situated before closing the door and moving to the drivers side.

katsuki scoffs and walks inside back up to your room. “that could’ve been you” hanta teases and all katsuki does is walk in and throw himself on your bed when he reaches your room.

●~*

juzo held your hand as he lead you guys back to his car. dinner was done and it was time for bowling. this was easy, being with juzo was easy. you laughed with him as he made jokes during the small walk.

you held onto his hand and your other hand was holding his forearm as he lead the way. you made it to the car and before he opened the door to the passenger side he stopped you.

you looked up at him smiling. “oh man i dont want to mess this up” he mutters holding your face in his hands. “just do it” you encouraged him and he got close, hovering his lips over yours.

he presses his lips gently against yours. you kiss him back holding his forearms as his hands still held your face. he moves one hand on your waist pulling you gently towards him.

he pulls away and you open your eyes smiling up at him. he smiles down at you and opens your side of the car. you get in and he closes the door quickly running to the other side.

you touched your lips and as much as you tried to enjoy it, you wished it was someone else.

●~*

you knock on your door so your friends can let you in. its 11:30 and you both just got back to campus. he dropped you off and walked you inside the dormitory complex, giving you a kiss goodnight.

katsuki opens the door and you immediately walk in. you notice he’s the only one here. you sigh and sit down to take your shoes off. he stops you and signals you to prop your foot on his knee.

he takes off your shoes as you throw your back gently onto your bed. “i suck at bowling” you said and katsuki only chuckles lightly. “i bet” he mumbles as he pulls off your shoes.

“thanks kats” you said sighing in relief. “how was it?” he asks as he moves around your room grabbing you a comfy set of clothes to change into. “it was okay” you smiled as you sat up and shrugged off your pink cardigan.

you slipped on the sweatpants and lifted your dress to pull it over your head. katsuki turns around and you quickly pull the hoodie over telling him its okay to turn around. “forgot i wasnt wearing a bra sorry” you said cheeks burning.

“sit here” he instructs and you move to sit on your chair in front of your vanity. katsuki turns on the lights and you look at your reflection. “tell me” he says as he starts brushing your hair for you.

“well okay he’s a gentleman i’ll give him that but i dont know” you sighed and grabbed your makeup remover beginning to take off your makeup.

“there’s just someone i havent moved on from its been years its stupid really. juzo is really nice but i dont know its not what im looking for. i just wouldnt know how to tell him” you rambled on and looked at him through the mirror.

he braided your hair loosely for you. you gave him a small thank you as he tied it off. “well its getting late kats” you said getting up and moving towards your bathroom to brush your teeth.

he watches you and smiles walking away to wait for you to walk him out. you walked out and opened your door for him to go back to his own dorm. he turns to look at you and he looks nervous.

“can we uh have coffee when you’re free? to talk” he says and you immediately nod your head. “night kats” you smiled closing your door and locking it. “night pretty” he mumbles to himself staring at your door.

●~*

wednesday rolls around and you sit next to katsuki. you havent talked since your date with juzo. you looked up at katsuki and smiled at him. “hey” you softly nudged his shoulder and he looks down at you. he turns his head to look at the professor and you look away.

“carrot cakes class” she says clapping her hands together. she went over the recipe and ingredients needed to make this. once you were all given the go ahead, katsuki immediately gets up grabbing his ingredients and materials.

you grab yours and bring it back to your station as katsuki already started cracking eggs, aggressively. you watched as he stirred his ingredients and you looked up at him concern etched in your features.

“kats youre doing that a little too harshly no?” you asked him but he simply ignores you. you decide to start working on your cake and ignore him as well. “you know when someone asks you to grab a coffee sometime and you say yes to the idea, you plan for it” he grumbles and and continues stirring.

“you said anytime im free” you said confused and he scoffed. “i’ve been busy kats im sorry with dance an-“ you started but he cut you off. “and hanging out with honenuki? you said you were gonna end things with him” he says mixing together different ingredients as he starts on the frosting part.

“and i will i just need to find the right time” you said defensively. “i wasnt gonna do it after our first date thats mean” you said as you began whisking ingredients. he doesnt respond and continues working signaling the end of your conversation.

you get graded on it and everyone was dismissed to leave. katsuki leaves quickly and you walk out seeing no point in running after him. “y/n my girl!” you hear and see eijiro and denki walking towards you.

“hey” you smiled at them as they both threw their arms around your shoulders, you being caged between them. “so you coming to the party tonight?” denki says and you grimaced. “on a wednesday night?” you questioned looking up at them.

“yea why not” eijiro said excitedly. you gave in after denki pleaded you go. he gives you a big kiss on your cheek and you playfully wipe it off. “thanks y/n youre the best” he says as they both pull away and walk off laughing together.

“hey you” you hear juzo and turn around to see him. “hey” you said as you gave him a smile and he wraps an arm around your waist. “you know whats up with katsuki lately princess?” he asks you as you both start walking.

“no” you lied and he only sighs. “you coming to the party tonight?” he asks you as you both stop in front of your dormitory complex. he places his hands on your waist rubbing his thumbs back and forth in a soothing way.

“denks and eiji practically begged me” you giggled up at him and he smiles muttering a “good”. he leans down and places a gentle kiss on your lips and you return it back. “see you there” he says letting you go and watches you walk into the dorm complex. your contemporary 101 class was cancelled, which meant catching up on some homework.

katsuki stands in the kitchen, sweaty. his shirt is off, it looks like he just came back from a run. you peels your eyes away and head to the elevator to get to the fifth floor. no staring, you thought to yourself as the elevator dinged and you walked out and into your room.

you sighed as you looked at your closet, internally groaning at the thought of having to pick out an outfit for tonight. “screw you denks and eiji” you mumbled to yourself throwing yourself onto your bed.

taglist:

@arc6021 @akuixe

#bakusquad #bnha #bakugou katsuki #class 1a #sero hanta #mina ashido #momo yaoyorozu #juzo honenuki #class 1b #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you

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dkfile · 2 years ago

Text

forgiveness (i would redo it all if i could)

❛ sure, the joy you exhibit is at his expense, but he can’t bring himself to care. jaemin would walk on burning hot coal if you asked him to. ❜

word count | 7.0k (7,009) genre | fluff with slight angst, humour, pining, idiots 2 lovers lol ━ fratboy!jaemin

the five times jaemin begs for forgiveness apologizes — and the one time you get a taste of your own medicine.

★ warnings | vomiting, humiliation (? not really but), alcohol consumption, and characters jumping to conclusions ★ author’s note | i wrote this instead of studying and it initially started as a drabble but the moment i finished the first part i realized i would just have to keep going. so i did. hope u enjoy this monster ❤️‍🩹

one.

The air reeks of hard liquor. You feel it stick to your skin the moment you step inside the frat house, trailing behind Lia as she zigzags her way through the crowd and into the kitchen. She’s a creature of habit, always following a routine, so it doesn’t surprise you when her first order of business is getting the both of you a drink.

Still, the vodka does nothing to contain your nerves. Bitterly, you eye Lia from the corner of your eye as she makes chit-chat with some friends from her Psychology class; she promised this party would put you out of your misery, but you have been here for all of three minutes and your misery has yet to be put out.

You had hoped — prayed — the trashy EDM and stench of sweat mixed with booze would have a quick effect on your aching heart, that it would snap you out of the wallowing you’ve been doing for the past two days, that it would make you forget about the 25 text messages and 10 missed calls you’ve left unanswered.

But, alas, here you are.

Lia makes quick movements out of the kitchen after spotting another friend of hers, gripping your wrists as if you’re a felon and her hands are the cuffs, and this frat, with its roaring partygoers and sticky floors, was your own personal prison. She casts a brief look over her shoulder, notices your expression has yet to change from the scowl you sported the moment you stepped outside, and eyes you with apologetic pity but does not loosen her grip on your limbs.

“Lia!”

She stops, quickly hides you behind her. You’re about to bite out a response before your face falls at the sound of the greeting that falls from Lia’s lips.

“Hi, Donghyuck.”

“Lia! How have you been?”

“Mm, great,” she replies, curt, but Donghyuck waves off her behaviour. He either doesn’t care about it or is too inebriated to do so — your guess is the former.

“How’d you do on that Psych test? Question three had me fucked up.”

“Kind of like how you are right now?”

Over Lia’s shoulder, you catch a glimpse of Donghyuck’s eye roll. “Ha ha, very funny,” he says before bringing a can of beer to his face. He gives it a shake, signifying that there’s still liquid in it. “I’m still on my first can.”

“That’s nice, Hyuck,” Lia sighs. “But I have to go, I’ll talk to you later? Chaewon needs me.”

“Oh, Chaewon! I haven’t seen her in forever. Where is she?”

Donghyuck begins to scan the room as Lia says, “Over by—” his eyes land on you peeking over Lia’s shoulder, “—the beer pong table.”

The excitement on his face falters, he blinks thrice, and as if snapped out of his reverie, his grin turns smug. Lia’s voice dies down as Donghyuck glances over to where a group of frat boys, rowdy and energetic (are they fighting for the title of life of the fucking party?) while he muses, “Haven’t seen you in a bit, Y/N.”

“I saw you last Friday,” you clear your throat when you hear the hoarse scratch in your voice. “Besides, I’ve been busy.”

Sarcastically, Donghyuck says, “Oh, I’m sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing in particular,” he smiles, looking at you for a brief moment before returning his attention to his frat brothers. He makes eye contact with a boy, fading pink hair appearing orange under the lights, heavy eyelids opening fully at the sight of you. “It’s just weird, isn’t it, that I haven’t seen you since Friday?”

“Not… really?” you furrow your eyebrows. “We don’t have any classes together.”

He gives you a look. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

At the sound of quick footsteps, Lia glances to her side. At the sight of the very reason you’ve been holed up in your room the entire weekend, she tugs your wrists.

“We should go,” she says.

“Wha— why—?”

“Y/N!”

You jump far enough to release Lia’s hold on you. Donghyuck’s laugh is silenced by a stomp on his foot; the expletives he grunts at Lia goes through one of your ears and out the other — as people’s words often do when Na Jaemin enters your vicinity and punctures your comfortable little bubble.

He’s a sight for sore eyes — so, so beautiful, with his shirt half-tucked into his baggy jeans and a bajillion rings adorning his fingers. He gives you a smile laced with careful excitement, as if you are something to be cautious about, a ticking time bomb.

And suddenly, you’re transported back to Friday night, sitting in a restaurant in the fanciest getup you’ve stolen from one of your friends. Everything buzzes around you. You swear your senses have been heightened — you catch every pitiful glance, hear every sympathetic whisper, smell the desperation radiating off your chest.

Despite all of this, despite all your prayers for any sign of fortune, your phone screen stays black. Void of any texts or calls or even Instagram notifications.

The waiter, ever patient and remorseful, takes slow steps to your table. You take this as your sign to leave.

You ignore the first apology Jaemin sends eight hours later, and all the following others.

Over the noise, he shouts, “Can we talk?”

Your hands find Lia’s. “We need to go.”

Jaemin’s hands find yours. “Y/N.” He lets a drop of pathetic desperation taint his voice. “Please?”

“We have nothing to talk about,” you say.

“I’ll take five minutes.”

You don’t know what it is that gets you to give in. Maybe there’s a small part of you that wants to believe him. There’s a sliver of hope you cling to — like a child begging his parents for a new trinket while he stands in the toy section of a store — and it’s the reason for your downfall. It’s why you even said yes to him in the first place, sitting in the atrium of one of the science buildings as you both waited for the rainfall to stop.

Before you two had split ways, Jaemin had promised, “You won’t regret it.”

And yet…

Still, despite these broken agreements, you nod, allow him to take you to the porch despite Lia’s wariness and every voice in your head shouting at you not to.

He slides the glass door closed, muffling the noisiness of the party in the process. You shiver at the sudden gust of wind.

“Do you want a jacket?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Really? Mine’s only on the couch, it’s no trouble—”

“Jaemin, I’m fine,” you bite.

The venom is enough to get him to back off.

The silence that falls between the two of you only lasts a few moments. The alcohol has made Jaemin jittery and impatient, but he’s soft in the way he says, “I’m sorry.”

You huff, placing your cup of fruit punch on the porch. “What for?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Well... isn’t it obvious?”

You tilt your head, leaning over the railing as Jaemin centres his hip against it. He faces you, drenched in remorse, and you face away, engulfed in humiliation.

“I guess it is. But I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there on Friday,” he murmurs. In the corner of your eye, you see him inch closer, and your skin begins to tingle at the sensation — but then, with words sharpened with knives, he adds, “I’m sorry for standing you up.”

Shame washes over you like a pail of cold water on a hot summer’s day. This is what you wanted, you remind yourself, for him to admit it. But that doesn’t stop it from hurting any less.

“Okay.”

“Y/N,” he almost pleads. His hands twitch at his sides, begging to touch your shoulder, your face, your hands, anything. The vodka doesn’t mix well with his regret and he thinks he might vomit if he doesn’t find something to anchor himself back to Earth. The railing isn’t enough — he needs you.

But he has enough self-control to back off. He hurt you, he shouldn’t be allowed to touch you.

“You know, you flirted with me for four months,” you begin, voice wavering. “And I thought you were excited for the date. I mean, you looked excited.”

“I was.”

“Well, not enough to show up.”

“Y/N, come on—” he takes a step towards you, grips the railing a little harder. His stomach growls at him to stop moving. “Just let me explain. I just need a couple minutes, that’s all. And then you can decide whether you still want anything to do with me.”

You glare at him, though it’s not sharp enough to sting. “I’d rather not waste my time.”

“I’ll be quick. I promise.”

You stare, and while you do so, he uses the free time to try and decipher your expression. Futile.

“I think we should be having this conversation while you’re sober.”

“What are you talking about? I’m completely fine!”

A glance inside. Your eyes lock with Lia’s. “Sure. But you’re slurring your words, Jaem.”

Jaem. A nickname. That’s a good sign, right?

“I can make it through a conversation,” he promises. “Really. Just trust me.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk right now,” you tell him. “It’s— it’s just better for me if we do this when you’re in your right mind, okay? So can it wait?”

And then all fight leaves his body. He supposes he can wait another day for your forgiveness. 24 more hours can’t hurt.

“Okay,” he agrees softly.

You manage a smile and give him a nod before gesturing you’re going back inside. He murmurs that he’ll see you in a bit, despite the fact that he knows you and Lia will be making your way back to the dorms the moment the glass door slides open.

As you begin to walk away, Jaemin notices that you’ve left your cup on the railing. He grabs it, “Wait—” he says, lurching forward.

Oh. He definitely shouldn’t have done that.

A loud gasp falls from your lips. Jaemin stands to his full height, eyes wide with shock as he wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

You won’t look at him. You’re looking at your shoes and scrunching your nose at the rancid stench that begins to fill the night air.

Well. At least Jaemin’s stomach is feeling better.

two.

Flowers are fucking expensive.

Jaemin realizes this as soon as he leaves the flower shop Renjun works at (according to Renjun, Jaemin fucked up so bad he doesn’t even deserve a discount) but decides not to dwell on the dent in his bank account as he begins the trek to your dorm. He keeps an eye on the cloudy sky, murmuring pleas under his breath for it to not rain — the last thing he needs is for the bouquet he spent good money on to get soaked.

When he enters your building, his exhaustion replaced with nerves, he almost doesn’t notice the lively figure walking out of the elevator.

The way Liu Yangyang steps foot into the lobby, radiating all things bright and holy, is blinding. Jaemin resists the urge to flinch when Yangyang gives him a wide smile.

“Hey, Jaemin!” he greets, barely concealing his confusion at Jaemin’s suit and the big bouquet of flowers. “Do you have a date? At 10am on a Saturday?”

“Oh! No,” says Jaemin. “I’m apologizing.”

“Ah. I didn’t know you were dating someone.”

“Oh, I’m not!” Jaemin corrects, plastering an embarrassed smile. “But, uh, I fucked up, so… it’s the least I could do. And, well, I wanted to do this, so—”

“Still. A bouquet this big is expensive,” Yangyang quirks an eyebrow, plucking the card out of the large array of flowers. His eyes scan the paper. And then again. And again. Jaemin wonders if Renjun’s pulled a prank on him and wrote something ghastly on it.

When Yangyang finally looks up, glancing from the card to the elevator, Jaemin asks, “What? What’s wrong? What does the card say? Fuck, did Renjun do something? I’m gonna kill—”

“No, the card’s fine,” Yangyang snorts, placing it back where he found it. “It’s just... you’re the guy, huh?”

“Sorry?”

“The one that stood Y/N up? The one that they were complaining about when I dropped by this morning?”

There is so much to unpack here. However, Jaemin can only manage a flabbergasted, “Wait, what?”

Yangyang laughs, gives Jaemin a pat on the back, then bids him a goodbye. He’s left the building before Jaemin can even think of a follow-up question, leaving him standing alone in the lobby, dress shirt haphazardly tucked into his pants, hair swept up from the wind, and his right hand limply gripping the flowers — the perfect picture of disaster.

It takes him a while to finally move, and when he does, a new unpleasant feeling sinks in his chest.

But then you open the door, and momentarily, the feeling disappears.

“Hi,” he says with a gentle smile. With two hands, he presents you with the bouquet, which you carefully take, eyes sparkling in awe.

You absentmindedly step to the side to let him in while your fingers carefully brush the flowers. “Jaemin, you didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to.”

“But you didn’t have to.”

“Well, I did,” he argues with no malice. He slips off his shoes and follows you to your desk, watching as you place the flowers in a vase, “so you’re gonna have to deal with it.”

He sees you roll your eyes. Still, you say, “Thank you.”

He beams. “You’re welcome.”

You lean against the back of your chair, folding your arms over your chest. Jaemin tries not to let your sudden indifference affect him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. Sorry I threw up all over you last night,” he winces.

You wave him off. “It’s fine. Those shoes were worn out, anyway. I was looking for a reason to throw them out.”

“I’m sorry for Friday too.”

Jaemin notices you cave yourself in. Your gaze has hardened and the tension has made you stiff. Something much more painful than guilt sinks its claws into his beating heart.

He thinks, even if he were bleeding apologies, that it still wouldn’t be enough to deserve your forgiveness.

“It’s okay,” you shrug. “We’re fine now.”

“Okay… But are you sure?”

You blink.

Jaemin continues, “I really want to make it up to you.”

You move to lay against the headboard of your bed, playing with the controls of your alarm clock to avoid eye contact. “And you have.”

“I have?”

You take one long look at him, raise an eyebrow at the state of his outfit, before commenting — with your amusement thinly veiled behind the lingering hurt, “Oh, definitely.”

Everything in Jaemin malfunctions at the sound of your voice. The familiar mellow glee shakes him to his core. He leans against your desk chair, refusing to break eye contact despite your determination to not look at him for longer than five seconds.

He kicks the foot of your bed. Not hard enough to scare you, but enough to glance at him in annoyance. “I’m being serious,” he says. “I’ll humiliate myself if I have to. Do you want me to beg for forgiveness in front of everybody? I’ll do it. I can do it by the fountain at the centre of campus, or maybe the cafeteria. Or maybe at the next party—!”

“Jaemin.”

“I can do it at the coffee shop. Not the one near here, but the artsy one. I'm guaranteed to get a lot of judgemental stares there.”

“Jaemin,” you interrupt. You’re staring at him now, the alarm clock long forgotten. “You don’t need to do any of that. I mean, would it be funny? Yeah, definitely. But I want an explanation more than anything. That’s what you promised me last night, anyway — if you remember.”

Jaemin tries his best not to wince. He’d love to tell you the truth, really, but when he had relayed what happened to Renjun, he was met with a slap on the back of his head and different variations of “This is really embarrassing for you, man.” Last night, he was more than happy to explain the reason for his absence on Friday, but that was because there was alcohol in his system.

Could Jaemin humiliate himself in front of strangers and his friends? Sure, no problem. But you were a completely different story.

Every move he’s made, every decision he’s followed through, has been to impress you. He doesn’t know what he would do if he ever blew that up.

“Oh. Okay, well, you see…” Jaemin begins sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck. “That’s a funny story.”

You frown. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine, Jaemin, but I don’t really wanna waste my time listening to excuses.” You turn to your side, taking interest in the alarm clock again as you grumble under your breath, “I’ve done enough of that already.”

The speed at which desperation consumes him is worrying. One minute he’s standing near your desk, the next he’s crouching to enter your field of vision. He’s next to your bedside table now, eyebrows furrowed and about two minutes away from begging.

“Okay, okay, no, you’re right,” he gulps. “Okay. It’s really embarrassing, though. It wasn’t my best moment.”

You don’t answer, instead giving him a look that urges him to continue.

“It’s dumb, alright, so don’t laugh,” he inhales. “A few hours before our date I went to the gym with Hyuck—” (Donghyuck had convinced him doing so would make him look so much better for the date) “—and I was exhausted. So, when we got back I… I fell asleep.”

“...What?”

“I took a nap,” he grumbles, more upset at himself than at your disbelief. “I was so tired and I didn’t want to go out with you if I was out of it, so I went to bed, and I thought I set an alarm for myself, but… I guess I didn’t. Next thing you know, I’m waking up at 1am, completely out of it, until Renjun barges into my room asking me how everything went.”

You stare blankly. “You… you fell asleep.”

He grimaces. He prepares himself for the brunt of your rage. It’s what he thinks he deserves — missing something he’s been wanting for months, looking forward to for days, all because he took a nap? He swears on heaven and Earth that he’s more mad at himself than you are at him.

But then you laugh.

It starts off as an incredulous snort before you start laughing in his face. And once he’s gotten over his initial shock at your reaction, Jaemin cracks a smile. Mostly because this is the first time he’s seen you happy since last week. He underestimated how much he missed all of this — sure, the joy you exhibit is at his expense, but he can’t bring himself to care. Jaemin would walk on burning hot coal if you asked him to.

Raindrops begin to land on your window as the sky becomes darker. Jaemin should be dreading the moment he has to step outside and walk back to the frat.

(But…)

“You’re not lying?” you guffaw. “You’re completely serious?”

“Unfortunately,” Jaemin deadpans.

You burst into another fit of giggles.

(He thinks the sight of your smile just made his entire week.)

(He says so to Donghyuck when he gets home and is asked why he’s soaking wet and giddy. To which Donghyuck replies with a roll of his eyes and, “Jaemin, you are so fucking whipped.”)

three.

There are many things Donghyuck has seen Jaemin do in the name of love.

But this? This is definitely going at the top of the list of the worst things he’s ever done.

The act itself is mild. If Donghyuck was told about this then he wouldn’t even consider putting this in the top 10. But he isn’t the recipient of a storytime. Instead, he’s with Jaemin, standing with him at a supermarket thirty minutes after closing in his Kuromi pajamas.

Tonight, Jaemin isn’t only embarrassing himself, but he’s dragging Donghyuck along with him.

“Please,” Jaemin begs the tired employee on the other side of the locked doors. “I just need one thing.”

The employee locks eyes with Donghyuck. Donghyuck wants to crawl into a hole and die.

The catalyst of this impromptu trip to the grocery store is you. More specifically, what you posted on your close friends story. You had been baking but realized you don’t have any more baking soda, so Jaemin took it upon himself to drive to the store and get some for you.

You didn’t even ask him to.

“Don’t we have baking soda at home?” Donghyuck hisses under his breath, grabbing Jaemin’s elbow while the 16-year-old employee explains for the nth time, “No, sir, I can’t unlock this door. Like, I literally can’t. I don’t have the code.”

“No,” Jaemin snatches his elbow back. Donghyuck wonders how they both look, standing in their matching Melody and Kuromi pajamas in the middle of the night. “Jeno and Mark used all of it up, remember? For some bake sale.”

“I think they were raising money for the frat, Jaemin.”

“Oh, fuck the frat.”

Donghyuck snorts. “Dude.”

“What?”

Donghyuck throws his arms up in defence before tugging Jaemin towards the parking lot. He waves apologetically to the employee, who only shakes her head in response, and ignores Jaemin’s whining and thrashing as they make their way to his car.

“Okay,” Donghyuck says firmly, crossing his arms. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, sure. It’s not like you’ve been moody for the past few days or anything.”

Jaemin throws him an irritated look. Then he runs a hand over his face and through his hair. “Sorry.”

Donghyuck waves a hand of dismissal. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I fucked up big time,” Jaemin sighs. “With Y/N.”

“Again?”

“What? No! Do you have no faith in me?” At Donghyuck’s silence, Jaemin kicks his shoe. “No, it’s just… I don’t know. I have no idea what it’s gonna take for them to give me another chance.”

“Didn’t they forgive you already?”

“Yeah, but… you know.”

He doesn’t. You and Donghyuck are more so acquaintances than friends, but even if that wasn’t the case, he thinks nobody in this world could ever know you as well as Jaemin does.

Plus, he’s pretty sure Jaemin’s just making excuses not to put himself out there again.

So, Donghyuck asks, “Have you asked them out again?”

“Well…”

“You can’t be serious.”

“You don’t understand!” Jaemin groans. “I’m scared!”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and starts typing a number into his phone. Jaemin is too busy listing off reasons on why you’d reject him to notice, and only stops his rambling when a groggy voice echoes off the speakerphone.

“Hello?”

Jaemin blinks, confused. “Y/N?”

“Jaemin?” you say, suddenly awake. Donghyuck places his phone in Jaemin’s hands and enters the car to give you two some privacy. “Why are you calling me from Hyuck’s phone?”

“Oh, I…” Jaemin starts, “My phone’s dead.”

“Oh,” you say. Jaemin presses the phone to his ear and closes his eyes as he leans against the hood of the car. “Why’d you call?”

“I, uh…” Jaemin murmurs, “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

If he was being honest, Jaemin’s surprised you forgave him so quickly. He thought he would have to grovel a little more, suffer for a few more days, before you finally flashed him a smile and a murmur of “It’s okay.” He asked you about this last night, his curiosity peaking past midnight with the only source of light in his bedroom being the blue light from his phone.

From: Y/N

I mean, it’s not like you’ve ever lied to me?

Unless you did. If you did, you are so done for, Jaem.

To: Y/N

I didn’t! I swear to God I didn’t

From: Y/N

Yeah, I figured

I’m messing with you lol

I trust you

Maybe this means he has a chance. He considers shooting his shot right then and there, but then he glances at the sky, figures now is not the right time. You deserve so much more than a hesitant question whispered into his best friend’s phone, the stars hidden behind a large blanket of clouds.

“I… I couldn’t get you the baking soda.”

A pause. “Oh?”

“Yeah. The store’s closed.”

“Oh,” you whisper with a little more understanding. Softly, you reply, “That’s okay, Jaem.”

four.

For the past few days, Jaemin’s hands have been finding you.

It’s in gentle touches. He pats your shoulder before bidding goodbye, picks off a piece of lint in your hair before flicking it away, brushes your skin with his every time he gives you a gift. Every touch is accompanied with a smile — lambent albeit unsure — and every smile is accompanied with a soft call of your name.

The next time he touches you is when he hands you a bag. It isn’t heavy, but when you peek inside, you frown.

“What is this?” you ask.

He flashes you his signature grin. “What does it look like? They’re shoes.”

His retort is met with silence. Jaemin is left to listen to the bustling of the hallway as you stare at the relatively new sneakers he’s handed you. His grin wavers, ever so slightly, though it really shouldn’t matter because it goes unnoticed.

“I can see that,” you mutter. “But why?”

“Consider it an apology. It’s the least I could do after I… you know…”

“Threw up on me?”

Jaemin huffs. “Yeah.”

You clear your throat, pushing the shoes into his chest. “I don’t think I should take this.”

“What? Why not?”

You shrug, resting the handles of the grey plastic bag on his fingertips before walking around him to head to the exit. He’s quick to follow, barely dodging lingering professors and boisterous students that obscure his path. You don’t bother to slow down, eyeing the time on your wrist with a frown. Fuck, you were supposed to be at the mall five minutes ago.

You glance over your shoulder to see if Jaemin’s still lagging behind you. “It’s nice and all, but I don’t think you ruining my sneakers meant you had to buy me new ones as an apology.”

“I disagree. Besides, I didn’t even buy them! I stole them—!” You halt, causing Jaemin to crash into you. The both of you stagger, struggling to regain your composure. He coughs, muttering an apology before adding, “—from Renjun’s closet.”

“What the hell!” you exclaim. “Why didn’t you say that sooner! I thought you were a felon.”

Jaemin gasps incredulously, ignoring the odd gazes thrown in his direction. “How dare you. You know I don’t have the mental capacity to plan a successful heist. Too tiring,” he tilts his head, “You gotta admit, though, I’d look very good on a wanted poster.”

Silence. You continue walking to the student parking lot.

Another gasp, and then— “Hey, wait, don’t just walk away. Are you disagreeing with me?” An overdramatic whine falls from Jaemin’s lips. You are no match for your own mirth. It doesn’t waver, no matter how much you try to fight the smile that threatens to split your face apart. “Are you calling me ugly?”

“Way to jump to conclusions,” you quip.

His hand clasps around yours, stopping your movements. “You’re not denying it!”

A laugh, caged too long in your chest, escapes. It dances in the air, free. “You’re definitely not ugly, Jaemin. The very opposite, actually,” you pause, “But no matter how much you pout and whine, I will not be taking these shoes.”

“But I stole them just for you!”

(A passerby mutters a “What?” to her friend).

“Yes, it’s very Robin Hood of you to do this for me,” you agree, briefly placing two hands on his cheeks and ignoring the way his skin begins to warm. “But what if Renjun finds out? You know he scares me!”

“Pfft. Renjun would never hurt you.”

Your hands fall from his face and back to your sides. He immediately craves your touch again, even though he’s certain it’ll burn his skin. “I’m not taking these. But thank you,” you give him a smile, a much tamer one this time, but it makes his heart stutter all the same. “Really, Jaemin. I appreciate it.”

I appreciate you, you almost say. From the way Jaemin’s eyes flicker to your lips, you wonder if he knows you almost did.

“I—”

“Y/N! You slowpoke! Hurry up!”

Jaemin snaps his head to the direction of the voice. His lips part at the sight of Yangyang trudging across the quad, hands tucked into his pockets. Despite Yangyang’s impatient words, he’s grinning.

What’s worse, Jaemin thinks, is that you are, too.

You give Jaemin one last look before waving. Before you leave, you promise something. He isn’t quite sure what — maybe you’ll text him tonight, see him tomorrow, email him the answers to the Chemistry practice tests later. Nothing you say can sway Jaemin’s focus from Yangyang’s arm, resting on your shoulder as he drags you towards his car.

A hand reaches into Jaemin’s chest, squeezes his heart.

He tries not to think too much of it.

five.

There are three things needed to spark a wildfire. Oxygen, fuel, and ignition.

Jaemin finds himself in an unfamiliar apartment on Saturday night, glued to Renjun’s side, as his friend drifts across the space like a butterfly soaring through the sky. Tonight is supposed to be carefree, a distraction from looming final exams, but Jaemin can’t help but feel a heavy weight in his pockets. His texts, sent 12 hours ago, are yet to be met with a response, and he’s getting fidgety. So much so that it’s hindering his chance of a good time.

Renjun tries his best to ignore him but all attempts end up futile. Once an acquaintance excuses himself to go to the restroom, Renjun nudges Jaemin and hisses (although he does it in a way that comes off as benign), “Can you stop acting like you’ve got ants crawling up your ass? Y/N will get back to you soon enough. Maybe they’re busy.”

Jaemin sighs, clenches his fist, then nods. “Yeah. Right. Sorry.”

Renjun looks at him sympathetically. “It’s okay. Just don’t stress.”

He manages to distract himself for a couple more minutes, engaging in conversations despite his dying social battery, and plasters a smile that he hopes Renjun deems decent enough.

This get-together is far different from any of the parties the frat has thrown, but its unfamiliarity tames the waves of worry clouding Jaemin’s brain, if only for a moment.

Everything in him comes alive, though, when the door swings open and a call of your name hangs in the air.

He’s plunged into a pool of relief at the sight of you. It’s almost as if the air has been knocked out of his lungs.

Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.

Oxygen.

He lazily mutters an excuse to Renjun and another acquaintance before walking towards the door. This conversation is the least of his worries especially when you’re standing in the doorway, radiant as ever.

When you spot him, he swears your eyes light up.

“Hey!” you greet, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Renjun dragged me here,” Jaemin tries his best to appear nonchalant, though the only person he appears to be fooling is himself, “he said I needed a change of scenery.”

“Well, I’m glad he did.”

Something akin to hope settles in the pit of his stomach. “You are?”

You hum. “Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love these get-togethers, but you make things a little more memorable.”

He grins. He can’t help it. “Just a little?”

“Alright,” you snort. “Don’t push it.”

A buzz. You take your phone out and, at the sight of the notification, your mood dampens — only slightly, but Jaemin notices nonetheless.

“Oh, by the way, did you get my texts?”

“Huh?” you glance up. “Oh. Maybe? Sorry, I’ve been so out of it. You would not believe the day I’ve had.”

“Ah. And here I thought you were ignoring me,” he says it in a way that’s insouciant, but you don’t miss the tension slowly easing out of his shoulders.

“I would never.”

“I mean, you did a few weeks ago.”

You hit his arm playfully. “Okay, well, you deserved that.” You tuck your phone back into your pocket. “I’m really sorry, though. I didn’t mean to screen you. What’d you send, anyway?”

“Nothing important,” he says. Really, it had just been a couple tweets he thought you would find funny. “How was your day?”

Before you can respond, someone enters, heaving. Yangyang, dressed head to toe in black, huffs out a breath as he slips off his dress shoes. He walks over to you, almost slipping when his socked feet meet tile, but he manages to save himself as he hands you a wallet.

Something feels off.

Fuel.

“Holy fuck,” Yangyang exhales tiredly. “You would not believe the kind of shit I had to go through to get that back. You owe me big time— oh! Hey, Jaemin!”

“Hi,” Jaemin replies, eyes flickering between you and Yangyang. It’s at that moment he clocks that the two of you are matching, both in flushed cheeks and attire. Suddenly, Jaemin feels underdressed in his grey hoodie and light-washed jeans. “Uh, you guys look nice.”

“Oh, thanks!” says Yangyang. Then he scans the other people in the apartment. “Wait, what the hell? I thought Lia said to dress formally!”

He gives neither you nor Jaemin time to reply. He’s already off, mingling with others as he hunts Lia down, presumably to question her about the dress code, leaving you and Jaemin in the dust.

You don’t say anything in Yangyang’s absence, so Jaemin decides he’ll bite.

“Why did he have your wallet?”

Your mood has changed. You scratch your neck nervously and give him a smile he can’t quite decipher. This one is different than the usual ones you give him. Is it— tinted with shame?

“Oh,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. Slowly but surely, the tension that was once in Jaemin’s body enters yours. “Funny story.”

Jaemin tries his best to sound lighthearted. “From the way you look it doesn’t seem like a funny story.”

“Got me there,” you chuckle, devoid of hilarity. “It’s— well, I was on a date—”

Oh. That’s why you never responded to him.

Yangyang, always impeccable with his timing, appears in Jaemin’s line of sight again. He isn’t quite sure what Yangyang says — something about the dress code, he assumes. But what he is sure of is Yangyang’s hand around your wrist, dragging you deep into the crevices of the apartment, away from Jaemin.

It all makes sense now. Yangyang dropping by your apartment, Yangyang’s arm over your shoulder, Yangyang arriving the same time as you at a gathering Jaemin didn’t even want to be at.

Any and all hope flies out the window, dissolving in the acidity of his heartbreak.

He pulls out his phone, texts you again, only this one is more formal than the rest.

To: Y/N

Had to go. Sorry we couldn’t talk more. I’ll see you.

He waits a couple minutes but never receives a reply.

Ignition.

Everything in him begins to burn.

one.

It rains on Sunday.

Jaemin finds himself sitting just under the lip of the roof, watching as rainfall creates puddles in the miniature pits in the backyard. The humidity allows for sweat to adhere his clothes to his skin; it’s an unpleasant feeling, one he’s too lazy to fix by getting up and going back inside, so he’s grateful for the sudden breeze that causes him to shiver.

A jacket is suddenly draped over his shoulders. A figure takes a seat beside him.

“What are you doing out here?”

Your presence only adds to the warmth he’s already feeling.

“Oh, you know…” Jaemin murmurs as you make yourself comfortable on the porch, “wallowing.”

“Ah,” you hum. “As one does.”

“As one does,” he repeats.

You let a few raindrops land on your shoes before you ask, “Am I allowed to ask why?”

He kicks a pebble under his feet. “I don’t know. I just feel weird, I guess? I can’t explain it.”

Lie. He knows exactly why he feels under the weather, and from the way your eyes don’t leave his face, you know he’s lying, too.

“Do you feel better than you did yesterday?”

“Hm?”

“Renjun let me in,” you explain, “I asked him what happened to you last night and he said you just weren’t feeling it, so…”

He nods slowly. “Oh! Uh — yeah. Yeah.”

He clears his throat awkwardly. In the corner of his eye, he sees you raise an eyebrow and turn your head towards the backyard, watching as the rain becomes more aggressive, rapidly pattering against any surface it finds, staining the trees and the ground and the wood of the porch.

Inside, he can hear soft murmurs between his frat brothers. There is the occasional laugh and loud outburst, and it tugs on his heartstrings. It’s much happier inside than it is out here — here, Jaemin’s sulking and brokenhearted and you’re next to him, hiding under the blanket of his heartache.

“How’s Yangyang?” he questions before he can stop himself.

You try your best to hide your surprise. “Uh, he’s fine? I haven’t spoken to him at all today.”

“And your date?”

Your eyes light up. Game over, Jaemin thinks as you turn your body to face him, excitement making the rain falter. “Oh, yeah, I was gonna tell you about it last night!” Jaemin sucks in a breath, “It was awful.”

He blinks. “Huh?”

“Yeah, remind me to never listen to Yangyang ever again,” you snicker with a shake of your head. “He’d been bothering me for months about how I’m, apparently, chronically single. And he thought the only way to fix that was to set me up with a stranger from his Microbio class.”

Jaemin’s moved to look at you dead in the eye now, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as he tries to process all the information you’ve just spewed out. “Wait, I’m sorry, what?”

You misinterpret his confusion for incredulity. “Right! But I went along with it, which I really shouldn’t have — I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you about it before I went, but it completely slipped my mind. I guess karma got me back, though, ‘cause the guy was terrible — he was so boring, Jaem. So I went to the bathroom to text Yangyang to pick me up, but I was stupid enough to leave my bag at the table. The guy stole my fucking wallet, so I had to—”

“Wait,” Jaemin interrupts, jaw slack. “So you weren’t on a date with Yangyang?”

You scrunch your nose up in disgust. “No. What?”

Jaemin doesn’t reply.

“Jaemin—”

“Never mind.”

You stare at him as he repositions himself to face the backyard again. The both of you hear more clamor in the kitchen, but it’s all drowned out by the laugh that escapes your mouth.

He lasts about ten seconds avoiding your eye contact — at the sound of your amusement, Jaemin whips his head to look at you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, covering your mouth with a hand. “I’m so sorry. That’s not — okay, well, it’s a little funny.”

“Alright, I get it,” Jaemin grumbles, though he softens when you lean on his shoulder for support.

“Why the hell would you think that?”

Jaemin shrugs the shoulder you’re not leaning against. “You two were always together, and then you guys showed up at the party at the same time wearing matching outfits, so my mind was like—”

“‘Yangyang and Y/N are dating. Only explanation,’” you finish for him with a snort. “That was just a coincidence. Yangyang and I are friends, Jaemin. I thought you, of all people, would assume that.”

He nudges you. “What’s that mean?”

You nudge him back. “I mean, I thought it was already established that I like you.”

At his silence, you click your tongue.

“I wouldn’t have said yes to a date with you if I didn’t like you, Jaemin.”

“Yeah, but…” he huffs, eyeing the clouds as the raindrops become infrequent and the sky turns a little brighter. “I thought you would’ve given up on me.”

You place a hand over your heart, frowning. “Wow. You think that low of me?”

“No, absolutely not—!”

You squeeze his shoulder with a gentle smile. “Jaemin, I was joking.”

Jaemin sighs in relief, leaning into your touch. “I’m gonna make up for that date, you know.”

Resting your chin on his shoulder, you assure him, “You already have.”

“No, not with flowers and stolen shoes — with dinner,” he pauses, turning his face to meet your eyes. As the sky grows lighter, the red on his cheeks becomes more evident, “if you’ll let me.”

“Will you actually show up this time?” you ask, teasing.

He laughs with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll be there before you even show up.”

When you leave the frat house that night, swollen lips and sweat prickling at your skin, you bump into Lia on her way to class. She asks suspiciously why you’re grinning like a madman — there is no reason for anybody to be smiling this much when it’s this humid outside.

At the mention of Jaemin’s name, Lia softens in understanding. She pats your cheek the same way a mother would nurture her child before saying, “I swear that boy is gonna be the death of you.”

You shrug. You can’t bring yourself to care.

#na jaemin #jaemin #nct #nct dream #na jaemin x reader #jaemin x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #na jaemin scenarios #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #jaemin angst #jaemin fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #jaemin imagines #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #fic: forgiveness (i would redo it all if i could)

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theinternetisfulloftrash · 2 years ago

Text

Happy Fratboy Friday

#dylan o'brien #2015 comic con dylan #could literally get it in the parking lot of an Arby's #or anywhere... honestly #love you guyssssss #♥️♥️♥️#fratboy friday #fratboy!dylan #mets #mets hat #dylan doing dylan shit #p.s. his. hands. 🥵😳

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sturnioz · 5 months ago

Note

jealous and possessive fratboy!chris after he finds out shy!reader's male friend is back into town?

chris is.... yeah. dipping more into mean chris with this one, especially towards the friend. you've been warned, please do not read if you're uncomfortable.

tw. mentions of drugs [cocaine].

note. also i chose a random guys name for shy!readers friend, so if there is an influencer or anyone you know that shares the same name.. its not them lol.

you haven't stepped foot in the frat house in nearly a week, completely caught up in the excitement of reconnecting with a childhood friend who had come back to your hometown for his break; the two of you spending your days hanging out and catching up on stories — which meant you unintentionally ditched chris.

honestly, chris didn't really notice your absence at first.

he was too preoccupied with his own life — planning for parties, selling his drugs and counting cash, spending time with his frat brothers, and his classes. but as the friday approached, the day the house is filled to the brim with students from the university, the realisation startled settling in.

now, he's sitting on the worn-out couch surrounded by the chaos, staring down at his phone, scrolling through the countless unread texts he'd sent you, each one more frustrated that the last. his eyebrows knit together in irritation, and he presses his tongue against his cheek, waiting for the delivered sign to change to read.

he swipes out of your conversation, rubbing at his jaw in frustration as he opens the instagram app. he goes to search for your account to check if you've posted anything on your story, but instead, he freezes, staring at a collection of recent pictures you just posted.

a scoff escapes he lips as he begins to swipe through each new one, his jaw clenching with every image. there you fucking are, beaming with joy, capturing the moments of you and the stranger beside you visiting cafes, shopping at your favourite stores and taking walks. chris grits his teeth as the last image, the sight of you both in your bedroom, watching childhood movies.

chris feels a bubble of anger rising within him, his leg bouncing restlessly as he fixates on the photo of the guy pressed against your side, his arm wrapped around you shoulder and playfully squeezing your cheeks while grinning widely.

chris' nostrils flare, and he tightens the grip on his phone. in one swift movement, he locks the screen and tosses the device carelessly onto the table, shaking his head in disbelief as he rubs the bridge of his nose. he fishes a baggy of white powder from his pocket, pouring a line onto the coffee table and shaping it up with his credit card.

just as he leans down to lose himself in the haze, his eyes dart up to see you walk in, the guy still by your side, both of you wearing smiles on your faces as if everything is perfectly normal. chris sits up slowly, a mix of anger and confusion swirling within him as he watches you scan around the room, and when your gaze finally lands on him, your face lights up instantly, and you tug on the guy's arm, pulling him over to chris.

he can't help but stare at the way you cling to him, rolling his tongue across is teeth in irritation, his gaze drifting up your arm to your face as you near closer, but that gentle smile of yours only deepens his frustration.

"hi," you greet him with such a soft tone that it makes chris want to scoff, watching as you drop down beside him, pulling the guy down with you. "chris, this is lucas."

chris doesn't even spare a glance at lucas, his attention solely on your as you continue to smile prettily at him. it only tightens his jaw.

"right... the guy you uh, you've been ditchin' me for," he says, his voice laced with sarcasm. "s'nice, kid."

you, still buzzing from the day, take his comment as a joke. "we were friends growing up! he came to visit me," you explain, glancing at lucas returning your gaze to chris. "he's only here for a week.. but you should join us—"

chris cuts you off with a scoff, a harsh laugh escaping his lips. "yeah... 'cos i'd love to be the third fuckin' wheel in your cute lil' reunion, kid. don't piss me off."

you look momentarily taken aback by his attitude and tone, and your smile falters in in an instant. even lucas looks taken aback by the shift in his tone, but chris couldn't care less about lucas' feelings; his focus remains locked on you.

"hey, man.." lucas attempts to speak up, clearly trying to defuse the tension, but chris waves him off dismissively.

"don't uh, don't wanna hear you — at all, actually. yeah. couldn't give a fuck about you." chris murmurs as he leans down towards the coffee table, plugging one nostril and inhaling a line of coke, grunting as he slumps back into the cushions, running his fingers through his curls.

chris' head rolls to the side, finally glancing past you to lock eyes with lucas. he notices the uneasy look on his face shift into something more confrontational, a flicker of anger sparking in his eyes. a grin slowly spreads across chris' lips, adrenaline surging through him.

"what? why y'lookin' at me like that?" chris presses. "you... y'mad at me or somethin'?"

"chris." you warn softly, pushing gently at his arm. you can feel the tension thickening in the air, and you don't want him to start something could spiral out of control, something that might lead to someone getting hurt — to lucas getting hurt.

but chris leans forward, looming over you to get closer to lucas, a glint in his eyes. "c'mon.. if y'got somethin' to say to me, say it."

you feel a knot tightening in your stomach, anxiety creeping in as you shake his arm more insistently. "chris, please," you plead, your voice urgent. "just let it go. it.. it's not worth it, please."

chris' eyes flick to you, noticing the worried look on your face and he huffs, before pulling away to slump back into his spot, sniffing and rubbing his nose.

he feels your arm loop around his, and he turns his head slightly to see you rest you chin on his shoulder, a small gesture meaning to ground him. and for a fleeting moment, chris considers yanking his arm out of your grip, the urge to push you away battling against the subtle comfort your touch brings him.

but then his gaze drifts back to lucas, who is watching you both, and chris' expression shifts once more, sliding his hand down between your thighs, gripping possessively and holding on tight.

#ᯓ꒰asks꒱#ᯓ꒰anon꒱#☆ fratboy!chris #☆ shy!reader #꒰ fratboy!chris x shy!reader prompt ꒱

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erwinsvow · 11 months ago

Note

I think fratboy Rafe has so much potential!! What do you think? In my opinion he’d be the perfect combination of cocky and annoying but also secretly and hopelessly pinning

-bk anon🤨

(Apparently I’m signing off now?? Lmao)

omg bae tysm for the message! love hearing from u and love the new abbreviation <3

and yesss i mean i've seen this trope tossed around for rafe a lot and i do lovee it because he's definitely CHASINGG you. like i can imagine like a lot of ideas but primarily running into you at a frat party and he can definitely tell this is your first time at one. tries to get you a drink but you don't take it because you think ur gonna get roofied, he's offended but then he runs around for 15 minutes trying to find you a hard seltzer thats not open in a can or something. he's like "high standards for a girl at a frat on saturday night. here, princess, i'll get you a brand new one." eeeeeee<333 ur friends drag you away but you don't miss the way he smiles at you while watching you go.

can also imagine like he comes to the party next weekend trying to find you, but not seeing you anywhere. super dejected until he runs into you in the library and just sits down with you at the table (WITH your friends.... he loves to embarrass you) and just start talking like the two of you are already a couple. "so my roommate was being crazy this morning, you remember him, right princess? yeah him, so he-" and "got more of those seltzers you like. you'll come with me on friday, right? theme's seventies or something-"

you'd be so flustered and trying to privately tell him you don't even know him and he's like "got plenty of time for that, don't we?"

however since i see him chasing you, you'd for sure deflect and not accept his offer to go get dinner this weekend before the party. you'd say you're busy and that ur sure he has some sorority girl to attend to. then begins the hunt: bringing you coffee everyday while you study (how he knows your exact order is a mystery...), quieting the loud guys sitting behind you that are annoying you, bringing you real food when you have an exam the next day because he knows you hate the dining hall crap. you don't even realize you're being chased, think it's crazy that the rafe cameron is interested in you, but then you get an a on your exam and the first thing you do is run to tell rafe who is waiting in the library at ur usual table.

he's sitting there with your lil drinky and a muffin to celebrate and you just leap into his arms to hug him smiling so wide because ur so happy!! not even the exam, because he's so happy that you're happy. you kiss him in the library. people walking by stare bc it's cringe.

ofc i love scummy rafe (or... yknow... rafe) as much as the next girl but i think pining chasing rafe is so good... ur so big brained because you described the perfect emotions in your message.... i love you & hope ur doing well!!!!!! <33333333

#📮 asks #rafe cameron

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malum-forev · 2 years ago

Note

Oooh can I get some fake-dating?? Either fratboy or mafia Bucky? Like they come to her rescue and pretend she's with them, saving her from some unfortunate situation!

Hi hiii this is my first time writing Mafia Bucky! Let me know what you think!

You hated the term man’s game. Absolutely loathed it. Men with their pea sized brains thinking they’re above people of the opposite sex, when in reality the only thing floating around their heads are the words dick, tits, ass. On an infinite loop.

When you went into the field of law, you thought with hard work and perseverance you would crash the glass ceiling. Paving the road for women like yourself wanting to make it. What you didn’t realize is that what is supposed to be glass, turns out to be concrete. A miles thick concrete ceiling, completely impenetrable.

You smoothed the fabric of your pencil skirt and impatiently tapped your foot on the floor. The wooden chair outside the DA’s office was becoming an annoying reminder of your future, bolted down outside the door. It felt like you’d always be outside the door.

The frosted glass door opened revealing laughter coming from the inside. Your boss’ booming fake laugh made your skin crawl.

“You better work on that swing by Friday, Kent.” Your senile old boss said. It should be illegal to have fossils like him still on the job, making decisions while they still think women can’t vote. “I’ll leave you with my assistant, she’ll get all the details about the Moranes case.”

“Paralegal.” You corrected even though you knew it would go in one ear and out the other.

The district attorney, a man older than your father, raked your body. From your pointed heels to your appropriately buttoned silk blouse. “Where have you been hiding this one?”

He all but drooled at the sight of you, a disgusting trait men thought was a compliment.

“I keep her holed up at the office, but I’ll let you have her if you send the case over to us.” Your boss “joked” but once he saw the stern look on your face he held his hands up. “I’m just foolin’ around. Can’t make a joke anymore without getting a slap on the wrist from HR.”

“I know a few things about that.” The DA laughed, pointing at his older secretary. “How’d you think I got stuck with this one?”

The interaction made your skin boil, there were actual men who thought women’s only purpose in life was to get them hard. And you, sadly, had to put up with it on a daily basis.

Your boss soon left, hoping you would comply with anything the DA told you to do. Anything to get the job done, was his mentality.

“How about we move this conversation somewhere more comfortable?” The DA’s sleazy smile sent a shiver through your spine.

You looked around the almost abandoned hallway. “I just need to take some notes on the file so, here is fine.”

The district attorney was quickly becoming annoyed. “I wasn’t asking, actually.”

You opened your mouth to try and keep him calm but you felt a hand travel through your lower back and set itself on your hip. You looked down to find a tattooed hand with gold and silver rings adorning the fingers. His knuckles were shades of pink, purple, and blue, sporting a couple of barely healed gashes. If someone were to ask you who you thought this person was, you’d never in a thousand years guessed the correct answer.

“She wasn’t asking either, Kent.” A deep rough voice appeared.

You looked up to find the one and only James Bucky Barnes, head of one of the most prolific and notorious mafia families in New York.

“B-Barnes.” The DA stuttered.

“I’m sure you can find a way to make my girlfriend’s life easier.” Bucky stared the man down, his dark blue eyes burning holes through his body.

“Girlfriend?” He asked, scared.

“Girlfriend.” Bucky barked.

The DA gulped. “I’ll have my assistant send her office the files.”

“I’d appreciate if you drop them by yourself.” Bucky lip twitched upwards. “As a personal favor to me and the ladies down at the Spin Top.”

The district attorney furiously nodded, his eyes widening at the words spoken. Bucky was dangling incriminating information like it was no big deal.

Bucky pulled you closer to his side, his hand never leaving your hip. A gentle but firm grip. He waved his gloved hand in a shooing motion. “You can leave now Kent.”

The district attorney tripped over his feet and quickly closed his office door behind him, locking it.

With a chuckle, Bucky released you. He took a cigarette from his suit’s breast pocket and lit it up.

“He thinks a door can protect him.” Bucky scoffed. “Pathetic.”

“You’re not allowed to smoke in here.” You said, your voice strong.

Bucky bit his bottom lip to contain a smile, you were pure fire.

He looked around the almost vacant office, any person who was there had already turned around. Some were even facing the wall, anything to not make eye contact with the mob boss. “I don’t see anyone telling me to put it out, princess.”

“I’m not some sort of damsel in distress, just so you know.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

Bucky’s eyes never left yours, he cocked his head to the side. “This could work, you and me-“

You laughed. “You and me? There is no you and me, it doesn’t exist.”

Bucky walked towards you until your back was flush against the wall, he placed his forearm over your head, trapping you underneath him. His intoxicating smell filled your senses, woody, smokey, citrus. A combination that wouldn’t work on anyone but him.

“By the looks of it, you need someone next to you so they take you seriously.” His words were slow and controlled, completely opposite to your body language. Your chest heaved, making the space between the buttons over your chest expand. Anyone else would have looked down but Bucky, he kept his eyes on your face. “I can be that for you. One outing with me and you’ll have every judge, every lawyer, everyone at the palm of your hand.”

“What’s in it for you?” You whispered, your throat suddenly became dry.

For the first time, he let his eyes travel downwards to your lips. A calloused finger ran from your collarbone to your jaw. “I need someone sweet and innocent, just like you, to help me take over everything. You see, every family needs a head. And there is no head without a neck. But no one seemed to interest me, that is, until I laid my eyes on you.”

“It would have to be for show, everything would be fake.” You whispered, closing your eyes for a moment to bask the sensation of Bucky hand on your neck.

Bucky chuckled. “I’ll put on the greatest show, I’ll even have you believing my every word.”

Pleaaaseee be sure to comment, like and reblog if you enjoyed it! Remember, one comment = one kiss on my forehead! <3

Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour

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luvtak · 1 year ago

Text

birthday blues, psh

☆ pairing fratboy!sunghoon x reader

☆ genre/tw fluffy fluff fluff, a twinge of angst, sunghoon has a case of the birthday blues :(( i wrote the mc to be quite introverted, hand holding lmao, cheek kisses! a little miscommunication, a very sweet and soft getting together fic <33

☆ w/c 1705

☆ a/n happy holidays!! i began this fic on sunghoons birthday but because i am terrible at planning anything i just finished tonight lol, so heres a little present from me!! i hope you like it <3

masterlist

With the bad music and the smell of cheap beer, you find yourself regretting walking through the door. The house is bustling with conversation and rhythmless dancing–not a sweater in sight despite the frigid air outside. Not one person you know or like is occupying the four walls around you, and even worse, your drink is weak.

The melting ice is enough to kick start a negotiation with yourself, you’ll leave after this drink… tell Sunghoon happy birthday, and then we’re gone. You’re not sure why you even bothered… you’ve been on three dates with the boy and barely kissed twice. While he’s handsome and funny, you don’t know if that's enough to endure another mindless frat party while your roommates are cozying up at home watching the new season of Love is Blind.

While initially you held some reservations about going on another date with a frat boy, Sunghoon proved himself to be very sweet.

The first date was nice, dinner and a movie (action which was ironically very boring) and a chaste cheek kiss that kept you up way past your desired Tuesday bedtime. His lips were soft and his eyes were kind–a sort of unfamiliar shy glimmer staring down at you. He was ever the gentleman, opening doors and making sure to tell you how pretty you looked… He was perfect. Which was odd for a guy who spent all his time with boys who carried a carousel of girls around.

The second date was quick but sweet, a speedy lunch in between classes, leaving a smile on your face until you got home that night. He had asked about you the whole time, wanting to know how your day was, and if you had had a good time when you went out before. And finally, the third, wherein the very pretty boy asked you to come to his birthday party before placing a swift kiss upon your lips.

It was almost like you were possessed. Feeling a great urge to be there to celebrate with him–very unlike the person you claim to be, but he asked so sweetly. His fanged smile was large and on display, and he had a look in his warm eyes that reminded you too much of an overloved puppy. Too much time with those eyes and you were agreeing before he could say please.

Now, you wished you had the gift of prophecy. If you knew you wouldn’t see the boy once since walking through the doors 45 minutes ago you never would have said you’d come. Of course, it’s his birthday and you’re sure he’s busy being shuffled along friends and pretty girls who’ve long since held his favor, but he asked you to come and if you have to spend another minute listening to mindless chatter you might never speak to him again–no matter how much you like his company.

The boys next to you are crass and the girls much more indulgent than you feel prepared for. Enabling their counterparts with enough alcohol and shitty pick up lines to put you out for the whole year. And while listening in to others' conversations isn’t the nicest thing to do, the loud groanings of, “Hey, pretty lady…you’re heating up this whole place.” were just too nauseating to ignore.

While slurred words are always swoonworthy, it may be time to head out.

It is barely eleven, but you’re ready to go–ego bruised and brain ready to rest with some mind numbing television. Not too mention, phone long dead from too many tiktoks watched to pass the time. You can’t believe he didn’t even make an effort to say hello. You made it clear you didn’t like this sort of thing–would rather spend a Friday night away from the hubbub and cheer of a college party that lost its charm the spring of your freshman year.

Whatever, if he didn’t care you’re just glad he showed his true colors sooner rather than later. While it sucks, it’s no use crying over another too pretty boy.

Peeling yourself from the back corner, you find yourself jostled this way and that until your skin meets the chilly December air. A momentary shock of relief rings through your gut, finally away from the rotten place a younger you loved, and an older you was over.

The night for all its misadventures did end up being a pretty one; stars barely peeking through the light covered city and shining down on the car packed street. Straining your neck to see them for just a minute before making your way to your car, you eye a startling figure sitting on the frat house’s roof.

A boy with a curious resemblance to Sunghoon, but why would the birthday boy be out here instead of at his own party? His hair is mussed and though he is far up, it’s easy to see the messy state of his clothes–sweatpants and a sweater one could only describe as something a grandfather would wear.

“Sunghoon? What are you doing up there?” it's too far, but you think you can see the little lift of his lips, a look of relief gracing his features.

“What do you mean? I’m waiting for you, didn’t you get my message?” His voice, while covered by the echoing party and the nighttime sounds, still carries over the expanse of the front yard as if he was in front of you–as confused as it was, it does little to ease the annoyance of before.

“What are you talking about Park? I’ve been here for an hour and haven’t gotten anything from you.”

“Oh I’m Park now? But it’s my birthday.” betrayed by your own temper, you can’t help but let your teeth show. His ever composed countenance running away as he whines his words.

Maybe it’s dramatic and maybe he did send you a message, but the bitter pain of feeling ignored won’t go away just because he’s cute.

Even if he is really really cute.

“How am I supposed to know if you really did send me a message and aren’t just saying that now that you’ve been caught?”

“Come on now, Silly, charge your phone.” he’s grinning now, tongue running along the points of his left canine. “I’d invite you up, but it looks like you may just push me off.”

“Why are you up there anyway? There's a bunch of people in there waiting for the birthday boy.”

It could be your imagination, or a trick of the shadows, but it’s almost like that one word made his whole body falter. Straight shoulders falling below his ears and long eyelashes hitting the peaks of his cheekbones. Eyes closed and figure sad.

From a young age you’ve been rather curious; looking through hidden presents and asking too personal questions to the people around you, but you don’t think you’ve ever been more interested than now. Looking at this handsome boy–too early to love, but too late to ignore–sitting alone on his birthday is enough to make you pause.

“Sunghoon? Are you okay? I won’t push you off if you help me up.”

While he doesn’t answer your question, he does reach out a hand to show you the way. Laughing loudly when you stumble through the tree branches, and quick jabs at your obvious roof climbing inexperience. It’s only when you’ve safely landed next to him that you can really see the slightly blue expression on his face. Of course he’s smiling–you don’t think he’s ever looked at you without one, but there's something invading his form. An ever present dusk sitting along his spine.

The both of you sit in silence for a long time, looking out at the street and laughing at the party goers retreating through the yard. Young men and women stumbling and giggling their way through another weekend. It’s only when the music changes from obnoxiously loud electronica to obnoxiously loud rap does he speak.

“I’ve never really liked today, you know? I get so excited for it to come, thinking it's gonna be a magical day that changes everything. Then I wake up and it’s just another boring day. I guess I haven’t learned how to deal with the disappointment,

I’m sorry you were in there alone, I– I wish I knew you went inside. I was hoping I’d catch you going in and bring you up here. I thought maybe if I spent it with you, it could be life changing. Exciting enough to be worth another year.”

How interesting birthdays are, to be so momentous and yet so disenchanting. You wait 365 days for a moment to pass, another year older with no magic in sight. Although you can’t ignore that he believed you to be life changing. How sweet, to think after only three dates he’s already decided that you’re who he wants to spend his day with. Face warming and hands shaking, you’re able to let out a soft laugh, before finally answering,

“Well, maybe we should just treat it like any other day. No cake or presents, I won’t even wish you a happy birthday." It's strange how this seemingly mean sentiment lights up his face: brown eyes becoming crescent moons, a goofy grin settling along his mouth. A look worthy of a birthday.

“What should we do instead?”

“Hmm, if you come with me right now we might be able to see the rest of Love is Blind with my roommates. Kazuha and Intak swore they wouldn’t watch the weddings without me… Only if you want to.”

And the way you looked at him with wide eyes and a hopeful smile, how could he say no. How could he tell you that all day he wished he could spend it with you.

He helps you down and keeps your hand in his as you begin the trek back to your apartment. The night is cold, but his figure next to yours heats you right up–brightening the walk back to your apartment, and making you thank whatever power made you stop to look at the stars, never knowing the tall boy was wishing on every birthday cupcake that you’d join him on the roof and change his life.

#sunghoon #enhypen #enha #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #sunghoon fluff #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon scenarios #enha x reader

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