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f-smutt-fitzgerald · 2 years ago

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Hide and Seek (w/ Trey Clover)

Art by @artsyco3xist. [Check out their page for more awesome TWST fanart!!!]

Summary: An innocent game of hide-and-seek ends up with you trapped in Trey's closet, accidentally bearing witness to how the Heartslabyul Vice Housewarden blows off steam during the little free time he has in his chaotic academic life. Contains: masturbation, accidental voyeurism, mutual pining, closet sex Story Length: 7,952 words

You’re not quite sure how you always end up in these awkward and weird situations, but such was your new life here at Night Raven.

It started when Ace and Deuce invited you over yet again after class. Frankly you spent more time at Heartslabyul than your own dorm, not that there was ever really anything for you to do over at Ramshackle aside from hang out with the ghosts. You, Grim, and the two boys sat on the floor in Ace and Deuce’s room playing cards like the four of you usually did after class while you talked about the day’s events.

Ace dropped his head down, tossing his cards to the ground, “Man, I can’t focus on playing cards with that test Trein gave us today… If I failed, Riddle is gonna have my head man…” He grabbed his hair, throwing himself back as he lamented, “I need my head, man!”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Well, did you study?”

Grim growled, “The three of us studied all last night while you were off who knows where!” The cat-like creature chuckled, puffing his chest out with pride, “Don’t worry, with my help, I’m sure the three of us passed!”

You looked over at Ace, a serious look in your eyes, “Yeah, you’re screwed…”

Deuce picked up the cards on the ground, “Where were you last night, anyways?”

“I was at the study session.” The three just stared at you. “At the library.” You laughed at their blank faces. “Where Trein said he was going to be handing out last minute study guides for the test.”

Your three companions all looked at you in horror, Deuce’s mouth dropped, “You’re kidding! When did he say that!?”

You crossed your arms, leaning back against the frame of Deuce’s bed, “Last week, dude. He said that he understood that everyone was feeling pretty stressed about the exam, and that he was tired of receiving complaints from overworked students. So he offered this last minute opportunity to review the material for the exam.” You looked over their clueless faces, “You guys were asleep when he said that, weren’t you?”

“Ughhh!” Ace lamented, “How am I supposed to pay attention to important stuff like that when he makes everything sound so boring!”

Grim pouted, “This totally ruined my evening! Why didn’t you bring us!?”

Deuce scrutinized you, “Yeah, weird of you to not at least bring Grim…”

“Oh…” You scratched your neck, unsure of what you should say to them, “I was invited to go by another group in the class… Felt like it would be rude to invite other people to study with us…”

To tell the truth, you didn’t want them there with you. Trein had asked some Juniors to stick around in the library and help the freshman with the study packets. And among those Juniors… Was Trey Clover.

A few days prior, while you were getting a snack from the Heartslabyul kitchen, Trey had told you that he was going to be there, and that you should stop by and ask him for help before the exam. He also whipped you up some quick pancakes for you to snack on before dinner. Trey baked treats for everyone, of course, but the way he always offered to cook you something when you were over made you feel special. You never mentioned it to your companions, but you had a huge crush on their green haired Vice Housewarden. The way he always stuck around and chatted with you while you were at the dorm made you feel giddy, like a little girl who secretly craved the attention her best friend’s mature older brother.

You knew that your companions were going to forget about the study session, so you just ‘forgot’ to remind them… Sure, you felt bad about intentionally sabotaging their chances to do well on the exam, but you desperately wanted to spend some time alone with Trey. He was an upperclassman, and busy all the time keeping Riddle from blowing up again, so you hardly ever got to spend time with him.

When the study session began, you had to share him with several of your classmates as they all had questions they needed answered on their study packets, but as the night went on it ended up just being you and Trey, alone in the library and talking about life until the librarian kicked you out. He even offered to walk you back to your dorm, but for some dumb reason you got all flustered and declined the offer. All you could think about the whole day was how you wished you could have just let him be a gentleman, but your stupid pride got the better of you. You fantasized about what could have happened if you managed to get him alone in your dorm…

Ace let out a deep sigh, “Well now I’m even more bummed.” He rested his head in his hands, “Let’s do something fun to help me forget about all this…”

Deuce thought for a moment, “We could hike up to the old mine? That’s what mischievous kids do when they’re bored, right? Hike over to haunted places?”

You and Grim looked each other in the eyes and rolled them, “We get enough ‘haunted places’ at our dorm…”

Ace groaned, “Besides, I exercise enough at my club. I don’t want to do more of it during my free time.”

Deuce shrugged, “Then what do you want to do?”

“Hmmmm…” The fluffy haired ginger boy considered it for a moment, eventually he started giggling slightly, “Y’all wanna play hide and seek?”

Deuce frowned at him, “What are you, five?”

Ace pushed on his roommate’s arm, “Come on! This dorm is massive! Lots of fun places to hide! It’ll be fun!”

You scoffed, “If Riddle doesn’t find out, that is.”

Ace laughed, “That’ll be the added fun of it!” He winked, “Gotta hide reaaal well!”

“Besides,” Deuce added with a shrug. “Riddle’s at a housewarden meeting tonight, he won’t be back for a while, so I’m sure we can goof off for a few hours.”

Grim jumped up, raising his paws in the air, “I’m sold! I’m great at hide and seek!”

Ace cocked his head at him, “Because you’re so freaking small, dude.”

The furball snickered into his paw, “My size does give me an advantage, but it’s my quick wit and massive intellect that really makes me a hide and seek champion!”

Deuce smirked, “Well that settles it then. You count first.”

Grim’s face twisted with dismay, “Awww why me!”

Ace elbowed the furry weasel, “You said it yourself, you have an advantage, plus you gotta prove how amazing you are with that ‘big intellect’ of yours! Unless all that ‘hide and seek champion’ bullshit was just talk…”

Grim aggressively pointed into Ace’s chest, “I’ll show you! I’m the best there is! No matter where you hide, I’ll find you!”

Deuce and Ace looked at each other with satisfied smiles, Deuce started standing up, “Excellent. Now we’re gonna go hide, you count to 300.”

Grim’s eyes widened, “300?! That’s way too big of a number!”

You stood up as well, “I mean, it’s a big dorm, gonna take a while to find a good hiding spot…”

Ace grinned mischievously as he, too, got up, “Unless that’s too hard for you? You do know how to count that high, right?”

Grim grumbled to himself, “Of course I can count that high! Whatever, doesn’t matter how much time you guys have to hide, I’ll find you in no time flat!” He covered his eyes and began counting loudly, “1! 2! 3…!”

The three of you scrambled out of the room, rushing through the hallway outside in search of a good spot. Deuce looked to you and Ace, “Let’s split up.”

Ace was already rushing to the stairs, quietly yelling back at you, “I call bottom floor!”

Deuce turned to you, you shrugged, “Guess I’ll go upstairs then.” The blue haired man nodded as you parted ways. You quietly rushed up the winding staircase to the 3rd floor, passing by other random students who gave you a peculiar look as you searched the hallway for a good spot.

You searched for a hidden nook or unassuming closet that you could sneak into, but for the most part this floor was full of dorm rooms. You could hear Grim shout from the floor below, “Ready or not! Here comes the great and powerful Grim!” He must have skipped a few numbers…

‘Shit…’ You thought to yourself as you looked desperately for an empty room to go into. Your pride was on the line, so you pushed open a door next to you and saw that the inside of it was dark and empty, so you rushed in, quickly and quietly closing the door behind you. You couldn’t see much in the room, you knew it was a random person’s dorm, but at this point you decided to stick with it. You didn’t want to give Grim the satisfaction of finding you so quickly.

You could hear Grim’s voice down the hallway outside, he seemed to be approaching the area. “Come out come out wherever you aaaare!” He chanted.

You could hear him peeking into various rooms he passed, getting yelled at by students he intruded upon. You looked around the dorm room, focusing in on a slatted closet built into the wall at the far side of the room. You tip-toed over to it and crouched down inside, closing the doors behind you and peeking through the slats. With bated breath, you stared at the front door of the dark room, hoping that it would stay closed as you heard Grim’s voice taunting out in the hall.

“Jeez… This floor is only bedrooms…” Grim lamented as he peeked into the room across the hall, getting yelled at by yet another Heartslabyul student. “Let’s see if they’re on the main floor…” Grim grumbled, walking right past the room you were in. You sighed with relief. If he was going downstairs to search, that meant you had time to switch hiding spots before the owner of the room came in and found you.

The sound of footsteps approaching the dorm gave you pause before you could leave. ‘Shit… Is Grim coming back to check this room?’ You slunk back into the closet as the door opened up, finding yourself sitting on a couple pairs of large sneakers. You glanced down at the shoes, shifting yourself off of them. The faint light that peered in from the hallway outside the room illuminated the sneakers a bit so you could see them better, you squinted at the familiar looking items. ‘Wait… Those are…’

The lights in the room flickered on, the person entering tossed their bag onto the bed and closed the door behind him, yawning as he stretched both his arms across his chest. You peeked through the slats of the closet door in horror as you realized who this dorm room belonged to.

Trey tugged his tie off and tossed it along with his uniform jacket onto the foot of his bed, sliding his shoes off as he walked over to his desk, undoing the first few buttons on his shirt. He sat down in his chair, leaning back in it as he pulled his phone from his pocket, muttering quietly to himself. “Let’s see…” He spoke softly, doing some math in his head, “Riddle’s at his meeting, so I have at least an hour till he’s done with that… Probably an hour and a half till he gets back…” He tapped at his desk, thinking for a moment.

You knelt in the closet, covering your mouth to keep from being heard as your panicked breathing had suddenly become more erratic. ‘Shit, shit, shit!’ You prayed that he was going to leave any second to meet up with Riddle or bake something or at least use the restroom so you could make a break for it. How on earth were you going to explain why you were hiding in his closet? You had the idea of texting your friends to come up and find a way to distract him so you could escape, but as you pulled your phone from the pocket of your skirt, you realized the battery was dead. ‘Fuck!’ You rubbed your forehead. You always forgot to charge your phone when you were over hanging out with Deuce and Trey.

Grim’s voice could be heard from the floor below, Trey glanced over at his front door, smirking a bit. “If he’s here… She must be here, too…” His cheeks blushed slightly as he slumped back in his chair, biting his lip as he began unbuttoning his vest. He leaned up and shucked his vest off of him, letting it drop to the floor as he opened up his laptop on the desk. “I’ll go out and say hi after I’m done…”

‘He sure does talk to himself a lot…’ You watched him, your whole body shaking with anxiety. You were grateful he wasn’t going into his closet, but how long was that going to last?

Trey typed away at his computer, clicking at something on the screen which had been angled out of your view. He sat back in his chair staring at whatever he was looking at on his laptop. Trey leaned his head back, rubbing his thighs and gripping them slightly as he let out a soft, quiet moan. He rubbed up his stomach to his chest, biting his lip and staring at the screen as he began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, letting it hang loosely from him as he moved down to his pants.

You stared at him in shock, ‘What the hell is he doing?’ You couldn’t look away, and frankly, you didn’t want to.

Trey palmed his groin, massaging the outline of his growing bulge. He did this for a while, staring at his computer screen with increasingly labored breaths before finally unzipping his pants, reaching in and stroking at his erection hidden inside of his fitted black underwear. He slid down in the chair, leaning his head against the wooden headrest as he finally withdrew his cock from inside his pants, shutting his eyes tight and sucking on his lower lip as he resumed jacking off his thick erection.

‘Holy shit.’ You couldn’t help but lean in to get a better look through the wooden panels of the closet. You felt your underwear becoming wet as you watched him, feeling bad for spying on him in such a private moment, but at the same time the heat inside you grew and you were thrilled to have been able to see this.

Trey leaned over and grabbed a bottle of lotion hidden behind some books on his desk, in doing so, he tilted the computer screen your way. You were nervous to see exactly what kind of porn the 18 year old had been watching, but when you finally got a glimpse at the screen, your heart stopped.

He was looking at pictures of you.

Your Magicam page was opened up on his laptop, the images he had been watching so intently as he rubbed himself off, were of you.

Your heart pounded in your chest and the heat in your lower stomach grew like a fire as you watched him squirt some lotion into his hand and onto the tip of his dick, setting the bottle aside as he continued rubbing his now glistening member. Trey threw his head back as the pleasure increased, he moaned your name breathlessly as he thrust his hips upward into his lubricated hand, “Oh fuck… (Y/N)… You feel so good…”

Your arousal was becoming too much to bear as you watched Trey, you felt like you might lose it if you didn’t feel any friction in between your legs soon. So you threw your better judgement out the window and reached down between your legs, pushing your hand into your skirt and inside your underwear, sliding your fingers in between your wet folds. You covered your mouth with your other hand to keep from moaning, biting your lip as you rubbed yourself at the sight of Trey furiously stroking his cock.

He raised a leg up to rest on the desk, knocking some books to the ground as he bucked his hips upward, panting and gripping onto his thigh with his free hand. “Oh god… (Y/N), please… Fuck, I need you so badly… Ah!” His toned stomach and chest flexed as he thrust into his hand, you could fully see the definition of his abs and pecs, the veins in his neck and arm bulging slightly as he rubbed himself faster.

‘I’m right here, Trey…’ You thrust your fingers into your cunt, staring at his cock and imagining that it was him inside of you right now. ‘You can have me Trey senpai… Fuck, I want you, too…’ The hand covering your mouth slid down to grip your breasts, squeezing them as you thrust your fingers rapidly into yourself, struggling to control your breathing. ‘Fuck me, Trey… Oh god I need you inside of me.’ You held back the urge to whine out as you quickly approached orgasm.

Trey seemed to be in a similar situation as he moaned loudly, raising his hips up as he rapidly and wildly stroked himself. His lips were parted and his eyes rolling around to stare at the computer screen feverishly as he grunted, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, (Y/N)…” He leaned his head back, his breathing rough and labored, “Let me cum inside you… Oh god, I want to cum inside you…”

You watched in a state of euphoria as long, thick strands of cum shot from his cock, which he quickly aimed upward to get most of the ejaculation on his chest, moaning and grunting as he thrust his hips up into his hand a few more times to milk out the last of his cum.

The sight of him covered in his own semen after masturbating to the thought of you instantly sent you over the edge. You covered your mouth and desperately held back your own moaning as your stomach tightened and your cunt started to pulsate, juices dripping into your underwear as you rapidly clenched and unclenched around your own fingers.

You were still riding out your own orgasm when there was a sudden knock at Trey’s door. Trey opened his eyes and looked up towards the ceiling as he traced his fingers through the warm cum covering his stomach. He sighed and called out, “Who is it?” The green haired boy leaned forward and grabbed a handkerchief from one of his desk drawers, wiping up the mess on his abdomen.

You could hear Ace’s voice from out in the hallway, “Hey Trey, it’s Ace and Deuce—”

Grim’s shrill voice called out, “And Grim!”

Ace continued, “We were wondering if you’ve seen (Y/N)?”

Trey eyed his laptop, smirking as he looked at the pictures of you he had pulled up. He reached over and closed the computer, “No, I haven’t seen her… What’s this about?” He zipped up his pants and began buttoning his shirt as he got up from his chair, turning to walk towards his door. “You lose her or something?” He opened up the door, looking down at the two freshmen and the weasel.

Deuce scratched his neck, “Well, you see, we were playing hide and seek…”

Grim threw out his arms, “And we can’t find her anywhere! It’s like she just disappeared!”

Trey chuckled, adjusting his glasses as he leaned against the doorframe, “Such is the point of hide and seek, isn’t it?”

Deuce sighed, “I saw her come up to this level, so I was hoping you had seen her anywhere?”

Trey cocked his head, “No, I haven’t…” He considered this information for a moment, “You’re sure you checked everywhere?”

Ace shrugged, “I mean, it’s a big place… We’re just getting nervous that we haven’t been able to find her or reach her on her phone…”

Trey crossed his arms, grinning at the boys standing before him, “Looks like she’s really serious about hide and seek…”

Deuce groaned, “It’s probably just that her phone’s dead… We’re really hoping to find her before Riddle gets back…”

Trey nodded, “Well, best of luck to you. Let me know when you’ve found her so I don’t have to worry about another Riddle meltdown…”

Ace urged the other two along with a groan, “Okay, talk to you later, Trey.”

Trey closed the door and turned to lean against it, rubbing his mouth for a moment before glancing up at his closet where you were hiding. Something seemed to suddenly occur to him and his eyes went wide. “Didn’t I leave that open, earlier?”

You covered your mouth with both hands and sunk to the back of the closet, panic taking over you as Trey started to slowly walk over. ‘Please don’t look in here… Please oh god don’t look in here…’

To your horror, Trey was now standing in front of his closet, a look of dread on his own face as he grabbed onto the handles and pulled the doors open. Your heart momentarily stopped as the two of you now stared into each other’s eyes.

Trey covered his mouth and stumbled back, “Well… Fuck…” He pushed his hair back, his whole body filled with panic, “What are you… Why are you in my closet!?”

You sat forward, shaking as you held a up a pleading hand, “I… I can explain! I-I didn’t mean to—”

Trey covered his face which became red from the crippling embarrassment, “Oh god… You saw that, didn’t you?” He desperately hid his eyes from you.

You stammered, your face hot from insufferable humiliation and guilt, you wished lightning would just strike you now before this moment continued. “N-no! I didn’t see anything, I swear!”

Trey rested his shoulder on the closet door, shaking his head, “You don’t have to lie… Fuck…” He slid down to a sitting position, resting his crossed arms on his knees, “I… I’m really sorry…” He buried his head in his arms, “Please forget you saw anything…” He leaned his head back and rubbed his face, pushing up his glasses as he did so. “Why are you in my closet, (Y/N)?”

You struggled to find your words, the guilt twisting your stomach into knots. “Well… We were playing hide and seek…”

He covered his eyes, “Yes, but why are you in my closet?”

You scratched your head, “Grim was coming… And I sorta panicked…” You looked up at him, trying and failing to keep from bursting into tears, “I promise I really didn’t mean to hide in your room, I was going to leave as soon as Grim passed by, but then you came in…” You covered your face in your hands, “I’m really, really sorry Trey… Please don’t hate me…”

Trey sighed and leaned in to pull your hands away from your face, a genuine look of concern in his eyes as he stroked the tears from yours, “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay… I don’t hate you. I’m not even mad at you, it’s okay.” He knelt down in front of you, rubbing your cheek, “I promise I could never hate you.” You looked up at him briefly before looking away when the shame became too much.

Trey sat back on the ground, looking you up and down. He noticed how disheveled your bunched up skirt was, and that the fingers on your hand were still slightly wet from when you were rubbing yourself off. You saw him staring at your hand and you quickly hid it away, smoothing your skirt slightly and getting ready to stand up, “I-I should probably leave before those idiots get themselves into trouble…”

The Vice Housewarden didn’t move out of the way, though. He just sat there staring at you, deep in contemplation. He hesitantly reached over and held onto your arm, keeping you from pulling away as he inspected your fingers. He seemed in a daze as he finally spoke, “Hey, (Y/N)… Be honest with me…” He met your eyes, breathing deeply as he leaned in to kiss your damp fingers, your heart pounding like a train engine in your chest. “Were you touching yourself just now?”

“Wh-what!? Of course not! I-I don’t…” You tried to pull your hand away from him, but he gripped your wrist tightly. His hands were surprisingly strong.

Trey looked at you over the frames of his glasses, “I told you to be honest…” He licked up your fingers, relishing in the taste, “Did you enjoy watching me?”

Your breathing became erratic as Trey started to lean over you, backing you into the wall of his closet, pushing past his shoes and clothes, “What… What are you…” You could feel that area between your legs start to get wet again. You shut your eyes, “I promise, I wasn’t doing anything, I swear! I… I was just waiting for you to leave…”

Trey grabbed onto your other wrist, pulling both your arms above your head and holding the two of them in place with one large hand, rubbing his other hand up along your thigh and pushing up your skirt slightly as he breathed into your neck, “So you’re saying that you didn’t do anything? So if I stuck my fingers into your cunt right now, you’re telling me it’s not going to be dripping wet down there?” His voice was hot and rough in your ear as he pinned you in place, his thumb rubbing over the hem of your underwear.

You shook slightly, his behavior now was drastically different from just a moment ago when he was too filled with shame to even look at you. It seemed as though all that anxiety he was feeling had suddenly disappeared now as he pinned you down in his closet with no indication of slowing down, “T-Trey? What… What are you doing?” You could barely get the words out, the air in your lungs felt heavy.

You could feel him smirking into your ear as he slid his hand between your legs, feeling how wet your panties were. “If you really weren’t aroused by watching me, then what’s this?” He nibbled your earlobe, “Looks like I’ve caught my little closet pervert red handed… Or rather…” He pushed aside the damp fabric of your underwear and shoved two of his fingers into your cunt, “Wet handed…”

“Ahhhn!” Having his thick fingers suddenly thrust inside of you made you cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. The suddenness of it all made you panic slightly, “W-wait, s-stop!”

Trey pushed his fingers deep into you, wiggling them as he lingered there. He kissed your neck, “Do you really want me to stop? Or are you just being shy like last night?” Trey slid his fingers out of you and began rubbing at your clit, “I really wanted the opportunity to be alone with you over at your dorm, but I suppose this works, too…”

You panted, the stimulation to your clit almost too overwhelming to speak, “I…I don’t… Ahh!”

Trey halted his stroking, smirking with satisfaction when he saw the disappointed look on your face at the loss of friction. He raised his fingers and sucked them clean before leaning over you, a smug look on his face, “If you really don’t want me, let me know, and I’ll stop…” He whispered into your ear, tickling it with his sultry tone, “But that’s not the case, is it (Y/N)? Don’t worry, I want you, too…” He chuckled, “If that wasn’t already obvious…” He ground his hips against you, his re-emerging erection rubbing against your inner thigh. His labored breathing was hot against your ear as he continued, “I know you’re feeling pretty shy right now, so you don’t even have to say anything.” He leaned back and stroked your face, his yellow eyes shining with lust as he stared you down, “All you have to do is nod. Do you want me to continue?”

You panted and shut your eyes, your stomach in knots for a moment as you considered what he was saying. Eventually you nodded, words finally breaking through your lips, “I want you Trey… I want you to fuck me.”

Your cheeks burned, slightly ashamed by what you had just said, but Trey was grinning slyly as he leaned in to press his lips to yours, “Thank god.”

He released your wrists and wrapped his arms around you as his tongue pushed into your mouth, moaning against your lips as he thrust his hips against you again, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants, begging to be released. Trey moved his hands over you, a hitch in his breath as he reached up and squeezed your breasts, massaging the mounds of flesh as the passion in his kiss increased.

He broke from the kiss and rest his forehead against yours as he started unbuttoning your uniform shirt and vest, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now…” Your cheeks burned, biting your lip as Trey pulled open your shirt, massaging your breasts over your bra. Trey pulled off your shirt, reaching behind you to unhook your bra as well, “I can’t believe I finally get to see you like this…”

His eyes looked drunk as he removed your bra, staring at your exposed chest. He set your clothes to the side, leaning in to suck on your breasts, causing you to whine from the unexpected pleasure you got from having him just slide his tongue over your nipple. He quickly unbuttoned and threw off his shirt with one hand, massaging the breast he wasn’t sucking on with his other hand. Trey licked up your chest to your neck, gently biting at the skin with his teeth. You whined, every touch from his hands and mouth felt wild, it was warm and tingly and you just wanted him to envelope you. You laughed and sucked on your lower lip as you rubbed his soft green hair and stroked down his spine, “So, how often do you stare at my magicam while jacking off to me?”

Trey’s hands tightened around you, his body tensing slightly as he was caught off guard by the question. He leaned up and breathed into your ear, “At least once a day…” He laughed, a mixture of shame and excitement flowing through his warm body. “What about you?” He raised his head up to meet your eyes as he nibbled and pulled at your lower lip. “Do you ever touch yourself while thinking of me?” His eyes stared into yours.

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, you looked down, “Yeah…”

Trey smiled and held onto your face as he kissed you, “What do you think about?”

Your tongue felt too heavy to move, “What do you mean?”

The Vice Housewarden chuckled, leaning down to kiss and suck at your neck, “Here… I’ll give you some examples…” His fingers traced down your body, stroking your waist, which made you flinch as he tickled a sensitive spot, “Last night, in the library…” Trey stroked your thighs, squeezing them as he moved back down to kiss at your breasts, “I imagined taking you behind the bookcases, out of view of the librarian, and fucking you up against the shelves.” Your breath hitched in your throat as you let out a desperate whine. Trey smiled as he glanced up at you, his eyes heavy with want. He pushed your skirt up your waist and thrust his erection against your wet underwear, continuing his list of examples with a sly smile, “A few days ago, while I was making you pancakes…” He chuckled as he leaned back down to suck and lick at your breasts, “I imagined you were sitting on the counter, naked, dripping batter onto your chest as I licked it off of you…” You laughed at the imagery, Trey smiled at your amusement. He leaned back up and kissed your lips, slipping his warm, wet tongue into your mouth. He pulled away, his breath burning as he stared into your eyes through hooded lids, his glasses fogging up slightly, “And just now…” He smirked and gave you another quick kiss, looking deep into your eyes as he continued, “I thought about what I would have done to you if you had let me walk you home last night…”

Your body shook, the anticipation becoming too much to bear as you stammered out your next question, “A-and what would that have been?”

Trey smiled, scooching back away from you before grabbing onto your waist and pulling you towards him so that you were now laying fully on the ground, the upperclassman pushing your legs open, rubbing his clothed groin against yours. He moved his hands along your legs, having you wrap them around his waist as he leaned over you, biting his lip with a satisfied grin, “Why don’t I show you?” He eagerly fumbled with the front of his pants, withdrawing his cock and rubbing it a bit as he kissed you, his lips wet and sliding against yours as he briefly sucked on your tongue. He broke away and leaned up, pulling at your underwear and stretching it to the side, biting his lip as he stared at your wet cunt, “Fuck…” He released his erection and grabbed onto your thighs, pulling your legs up as he slid your wet underwear off of you. Trey then set your legs down as he rubbed his fingers along the folds of your cunt with one hand and jerked himself off with the other, “God… You’re so fucking wet for me…” He smirked, “I bet I could just…” He spread open your folds and poked at your entrance with the tip of his dick, “Slide right in…” He thrust his hips forward and quickly shoved himself into you.

The way he quickly thrust his cock inside you made you cry out from the sudden and unexpected pain, you squeezed his arms and leaned your head back, “Ah!”

Trey paused there for a moment, panting as he leaned his head down into your shoulder, “Sorry… Ahh… I couldn’t help myself…” He slid himself out slightly, trying hard not to just thrust back into you like he wanted. He bit his lip and moaned, “I’ll try to take it slowly…” He carefully pushed himself back inside you, spreading out the walls of your cunt with his cock.

You shut your eyes and writhed against him, “Oh fuck… Trey…”

The green haired man smiled and stroked your hair out of your face as he slowly withdrew and then pushed back into you, “Does that feel good?” He chuckled and reached down between the two of you, “I can make it feel even better…”

He started rubbing your clit as he continued thrusting into you, you gripped his arms and let out a loud moan, “Oh god! Please… Fuck!” You bit your bottom lip and started bucking your hips against him, “Keep going…”

Trey propped an arm up above your head to steady himself as he furiously rubbed at your clit, increasing the speed and force of his thrusting into you. His cock pushed at the back walls of your cunt, the sensation made your mind grow numb as you leaned your head back and desperately whined, never wanting this sensation to end. Trey grunted into your ear as his body rocked against yours, “Fuck… Your moaning sounds fucking amazing…”

He continued sliding his dick in and out, his skin slapping against yours, his fingers sliding over your clit and making your whole body feel unbearably hot. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in to press your lips to his, moaning as he slid his tongue over yours.

Trey pulled away, panting as he leaned up, pulling you up with him withdrawing his cock from you as he flipped you around. He then pressed you up against the back wall of his closet, pushing his hanging clothes to the side so he could get a better view of you from behind. Trey bit his lip as he looked down at your ass, massaging the cheeks before quickly slapping one of them.

Your cunt twitched longingly as you knelt there in front of him, gasping with relief as he finally slid his cock back into you, “Oh god!” Trey grabbed your waist, firmly pulling you against him as he fucked you. You sucked on your lip, your breast bouncing against the wall as you raised your arms up to rest your head on, losing yourself to the thrill and pleasure of the situation.

Trey reached around with one arm and gripped onto one of your breasts, sliding his other hand down to massage your clit as he rapidly slid himself in and out of you, his chest rubbing against your back. He kissed and sucked at the nape of your neck, a string of saliva following his lips as he leaned in and breathed deeply into your ear, “Ah… I’m ashamed to say… I don’t think I’m going to last much longer…”

You felt your abdomen start to twitch and you laughed, leaning your head back into his shoulder, “Me neither…”

He smiled into your neck, nibbling slightly at your skin, his breath hot and wet against you, “Fuck… I want to cum inside you…”

His rubbing at your clit quickened in pace, and your muscles started to tighten as the heat was becoming too much. You reached down and placed your hand over the hand of his that rubbed your clit, encouraging him to rub faster. “Oh, god… I want to cum with you Trey… I want you to cum with me as I cum…”

He leaned into you, pushing you more against the wall, gripping your breast painfully tight and furiously rubbing at you, thrusting erratically and breathing hoarsely into your ear. “Oh fuck, I’m… I’m gonna… Fuck!” His cock felt hot and swollen inside of you, his thrusting slowing as warm ejaculation spurted from his erection, coating your insides as he pushed himself in and out of you.

Meanwhile, you felt yourself start to convulse around his thick length, your cunt clenching and unclenching as you pushed yourself into each of his thrusts, trying to deepen the impact as you came around him. “Ahhh!” You moaned loudly, your whole body feeling like is was vibrating as each shockwave of your orgasm rippled through you. “Oh god, Trey—!” Trey quickly released your breast and put his hand over your mouth to muffle the sound of your euphoric cries, which were surely heard from the next room.

You whined weakly against his hand as you raised your hips up and down against Trey’s cock, the last of your orgasm starting to ripple away. Trey panted into the back of your head, his own thrusting weakening in strength as his cum dripped out of you and his cock started to soften. You slumped against the wall, suddenly losing any energy you had previously, propping yourself up with your arms above your head. Trey slid himself out of you, rubbing at your thighs as he kissed the back of your neck. “Holy shit…” He chuckled, his hand sliding down from your mouth to take hold of your chin, turning your head back to look him in the eyes as he rest his head on your shoulder. His expression was satisfied and sleepy as he lazily looked at you, “Did that feel good, love?”

You smiled and turned to fully face him, wrapping your arms around him and kissing him on the lips, “That felt fucking amazing.”

He bit at your lip as you pulled away, slowly looking up into your eyes, “Damn… I still feel like I’m dreaming…” He stroked your hair back and leaned over you, “Are you really here right now?”

You laughed, sitting down and pulling him in to straddle your lap, “I’m right here, handsome.” You reached over and squeezed his butt.

Trey pressed his head to your shoulder and chuckled, “Damn, someone got a lot more confident…”

You stroked his face and kissed him, relishing in the tender moment when suddnely there was a faint crashing sound from downstairs. Trey jolted upward, staring in the direction of the sound, his eyes wide with panic, “Well… That can’t be good.”

Following the crashing sound came the loud slamming of the dorm’s front doors. You could tell instantly who was slamming those doors. You met Trey’s eyes, “Oh no.”

Riddle’s shouting, though two floors below, shook through the whole dorm, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE!?”

Trey immediately stood up, tucking his limp cock back into his pants, “Fuck!”

Riddle’s rampage continued, “OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!”

“Shit, shit, shit!” Trey urgently grabbed his shirt and threw it on, pausing for a second to turn back and look at you.

You chuckled at him, “Go on ahead, you need to do damage control. I’ll be close behind you.” You winked, picking your underwear and skirt up off the ground.

Trey smiled wide at you as he walked backwards towards the door, buttoning up his shirt, “You’re amazing…”

You smirked, “I know, now go!” Trey quickly sprayed himself with cologne to mask the scent of the dirty deed he just committed and ran out the door.

You finished getting dressed, trying to straighten out your clothes as much as you could to get rid of the wrinkles as you finally left Trey’s room, making your way downstairs to see what all the commotion was about.

Riddle’s screaming shook the hallway as you walked towards the main common room, “You’re going to have to explain to me again why you thought a whole person could fit inside this priceless vase, you IDIOTS!”

Grim was kneeling on the ground beside Ace and Deuce, all three of them had the infamous heart shaped collars around their necks. Grim stammered, eyes wide with panic, “W-we couldn’t find her anywhere! We were getting desperate!”

Riddle’s face was bright red, “Why the hell were you playing hide and seek in the first place!? What are you, toddlers!?”

Trey placed his hand on Riddle’s shoulder, “Relax Riddle, they were just blowing off some steam.”

Riddle smacked Trey’s hand away, “Blowing off steam!? THEY BROKE A PRICELESS ARTIFACT!”

You saw now that there was a large antique vase shattered all over the floor beside the three kneeling boys. Ace saw you peeking through the hallway past the other Heartslabyul onlookers. “Where the heck were you! We looked everywhere for you! EVERYWHERE!”

Everyone in the room turned to look in your direction, as though a spotlight were now on you. Riddle glared at you, gripping his magic pen as he walked over to you, “These idiots broke the vase searching for you, so you’re partially to blame!” He pointed his pen at you, “Explain yourself! Where on earth were you hiding?!”

Trey carefully placed his hand on Riddle’s, lowering his pen down, “She was with me, Riddle.”

Deuce cocked his head with confusion, “B-but we asked you if you had seen her! Why didn’t you tell us she was with you?”

You looked back and forth between Riddle and Ace and Deuce and Grim, Trey himself unable to think of a good response. You took a deep breath in, “I-I realized quickly that playing hide and seek in the dorm was a bad idea, so I went looking for you guys to tell you we should stop the game, b-but… But I couldn’t find you… Then I ran into Trey, who told me that I had just missed you guys.”

Trey scratched his neck then gestured at you, “Yeah, then (Y/N) asked me some questions about Professor Trein’s test today, which I helped her study for last night, and we got to talking about the lesson material and just lost track of time.” He met the confused eyes of the boys around him, he blushed, “I’ve been helping (Y/N) with History of Magic, since she’s not from here…”

You sighed with relief then looked up at Deuce, Ace, and Grim with a guilty look in your eyes, “I’m sorry I didn’t try to find you guys sooner. It’s my fault you ended up like this…”

Riddle carefully considered your words, “Well, be it as it may, you were still putting effort into your academic success, that is not something worthy of punishment…” He turned back to the three boys, “You three, however, were not only goofing around during the time when you should have been studying, you broke a priceless vase from the Rose Queen’s era! Something you could not even hope to ever pay back with money!”

Grim pulled at the collar on his neck, “B-but how do we get these off!?”

Riddle crossed his arms, “Well… To start, you’ll sweep up the mess you made." He snapped his fingers and brooms and dustpans appeared in the hands of each of the three boys. Riddle continued, “Then, you’ll polish each of the vases in the dorm until they are sparkling… And for the rest of the month, every single night, the moment you finish with your homework, you will spend the rest of the evening until bedtime cleaning, sweeping, dusting, and mopping, until the dorm is spotless.”

The three boys stared at Riddle with horror in their eyes, “A whole month!”

Riddle kicked a shard of ceramic towards the boys, “Be careful not to break another vase or precious artifact while cleaning, each additional item you break doubles your sentence. Do you understand?”

Grim looked at you a pleaded, “(Y/N)! Please! You gotta say something! Don’t just stand there!”

Trey stood in front of you as if to protect you, “You’re the ones who broke the vase. Given that there’s no way to replace or fix it, I’d say one month of cleaning is actually a light punishment.”

Riddle smirked, “You’re right, Vice Housewarden.” The red head knelt down in front of the cat creature, “Do you have any more objections? Or should I go ahead and add another month to your punishment?”

Ace whined, “Can’t we just fix it with magi—!?”

Deuce put his hand over Ace’s mouth, “We accept the punishment, Housewarden Rosehearts!” He got up and immediately started sweeping up pieces of vase. The other two groaned and followed suit giving you quick, pleading glances as if there were anything you could do to free them from their fate.

Trey pulled out his phone and looked at the time, “It’s getting late…” He gently placed his hand on your back, “I’ll go ahead and walk (Y/N) home, I still need to go over some of her homework assignments with her.”

Riddle nodded, “How very diligent of you.” The red head gave you a slight bow, “You have a good rest of your evening, Ms. (Y/L/N).”

“Oh, thank you…” You followed as Trey led you through the dispersing crowd of onlookers to the main entrance. The two of you walked out into the cool breeze of the evening, not saying anything to each other for a bit.

Trey looked behind him, and when he was certain there was no one around to see, he put his arm around you and rubbed your shoulder. He leaned in close and smiled into your ear, “So…” He spoke with a sultry tone, “Shall we resume our ‘study session’ at your place?”

#twisted wonderland x reader #fanfic #trey clover #twisted wonderland #disney twst #trey x y/n #second person pov #smut #twisted wonderland smut #trey x reader #trey clover x reader #reader insert

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rwprincess · 1 year ago

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Blinded Me With Science (Part 5)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.2k

Synopsis: Teasing toes the line into flirting; You and Fred have an argument about Dungeons and Dragons

CW: mild language, flustered nerd flirting, talk of germs

“I can’t believe you’d even entertain the thought of playing a game with so much math again. Traitor.” Fred spit his joke at you as you collaborated on your article regarding germs-by-class. You made the unfortunate mistake of bringing up The Hellfire Club’s generous contribution and all you observed that night.

“I’ve told you before, I can do addition and subtraction,” you rolled your eyes at his accusation. “Besides, that guy..uh, Gareth, was there to help me figure out what number to put where.”

“Oh yes. Can’t forget about Gareth,” he said in a sardonic tone.

“What is that even supposed to mean?” You asked, completely oblivious to what he could be getting at.

“Nothing.” He said with a slight smirk but when you continued looking at him with confusion, he dropped his shoulders and tried to push it aside. “Really. Nevermind.”

You wrestled with asking a follow up or demanding to know, as he had somewhat piqued your curiosity. However, you also knew that Fred was stubborn and probably wouldn’t crack easily, so maybe it was best to just let it go. “Anyway…” you tried to pivot the subject back to what you were initially talking about, “the results are in from the experiment.”

“And?”

“The hypothesis wasn’t right on the money, but the freshmen definitely had the dirtiest--most scientifically bacteria-filled, I should say--hands.”

“Well of course,” Fred snorted back, “not much surprise there, right? That’s why it was the hypothesis. It’s the obvious conclusion from observing the unwashed masses.”

You pursed your lips, trying not to give in and smile at his jab. You were still trying to act as professional as possible. You had assured him that you would approach this without judgment, as a scientist, when he was worried about contributing his own sample. You couldn’t go back on that and ruin the facade now. “Right. But, surprisingly, age did not equal maturity and the seniors were in second place.”

“So you’re telling me that it’s the little kids and Eddie Munson and his cohorts? Color me shocked.” He barely raised an eyebrow in response, flatly and sardonically taking another jab.

“Fine. Fine! Yes, you could draw those conclusions from this study, but remember: it’s a small sample size, so it doesn’t really justify your bias.”

“Me? Biased? Whatever gave you that idea?” He asked, playfully, so you responded in kind.

“Oh, just your strong opinions about, y’know, everything.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that those ‘opinions’ come from hefty research.”

“Oh, do they now?”

“Yes,” he insisted and you were more amused with his straight-laced demeanor, knowing he didn’t particularly mean it, “they’re not just some baseless ideas I come up with on my own. They’re logical deductions from facts and data. What do you take me for?”

“Me, apparently. God, I’m rubbing off on you. ‘Facts and data,’” you quoted him with a scoff.

“And what would be so bad about that?” He asked, “To have you rub off on me.”

You hadn’t noticed how incredibly close he was standing until now. The playful banter had made you unaware, and now you were mere inches apart. The realization flustered you and you almost automatically leaped back, out of self-preservation. Instead, you tried to play it cool and took a slight step away from him, nervous to alert him to how he truly made you feel. “Yeah, I guess…I mean, I don’t know,” you muttered a half-baked answer to his rhetorical question, then quickly covered it up with, “If we start talking about data, we might actually begin valuing numbers and then that is a slippery slope to liking math, I bet. Can’t have that,” you joked.

“No, can’t have that,” he said, and his agreement put you more at ease, thinking that the awkwardness had passed and that you could move on to something else. But then he looked at you strangely, an emotion you couldn’t read flashed behind his eyes as they lingered on you just a bit too long.

*~~~*

Despite Fred’s ribbing, you agreed to another session of Dungeons and Dragons, or ‘D&D,’ as Eddie insisted was the ‘cool’ way to refer to it. “You can come along again, if you want,” you posited to him when he mildly objected to you going again a couple weeks after your initial game.

“I know I said anytime you wanted to scope out a Satanic cult, Y/N but c’mon, you can’t be serious. It doesn’t have that much appeal.”

“You only think that because you didn’t actually play, Mr. ‘Conscientious Observer.’ Maybe if you take off your little reporter’s cap and join us, you might have a little fun.”

“Good lord, Y/N. Whatever made you think I was interested in fun?” He gave you that signature deadpan look you’d become accustomed to and secretly favored.

“Fine,” you shrugged, “I don’t mind going by myself.”

“Or…” he drew out the one-syllable word far longer than it needed to be, “you could just not go.”

“I’m not really doing anything better.”

“We could, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, study for math. That would be better.”

You raised your hand to his forehead with fake alarm, “Are you ill? I can’t believe Fred Benson of all people would say such a thing. I’m not so sure you’re my Fred.”

‘My Fred’ echoed in his head and caused a dull ache in his chest. He wanted to be nothing more, and hearing you say that out loud made him weak in the knees. He lost himself for a moment and then, in an effort to save face and pull himself back to reality, swatted your hand away. “That’s my point. That’s just how bad this is and how much I wouldn’t want to go.”

“Oh my gosh, then don’t!” You had become exasperated at this point. You had offered to have him join because you liked his company, but didn’t need him to go, and he was putting up one hell of a fight. “They were all plenty nice last time. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

That jogged his memory, causing him to relive the way Gareth looked at you and talked to you. Maybe he needed to insert himself as a barrier after all. But he couldn’t look like he was worried about that, so he pretended to acquiesce to you instead. “Jeez, if you’re gonna get all bent out of shape and mad about it, I guess I could come. If it means that much to you.”

“It doesn’t. You’re free to do whatever you want. I don’t want to put you out and make you bored.” You weren’t sure what he could possibly want at this point and he was hurt that you were willing to go without him,that you could just forget about him that easily.

“I…ugh, I’ll think about it,” he finally offered. He felt like this was a compromise: he could save face and appease you at the same time. You, however, worried about trapping him somewhere he didn’t want to be; but the argument was over, for now.

Tags (aka Fred-lovers)

@wowthisisastupidblog @kendallmm @its-the-autism-innit-luv @yeaimchloe @waiting-to-stop-fixating @pineaplesoooodaaaaa @toastnfrostedflakes @jade-04 @executethyself35 @losersclub848 @rem-e-jea @teeth-boy @anxious-runes @bighe4rtt

@antique-whiskey @frog-cultist @wormrw @sincerely-a-terry-apologist @xxblossombunnyxx @chipycookie @carnivalsofsilverfish @itcomesback @yhs-headcannons @velvet-ames @silkcherubs @guilloween @drizzlingminds

@slut4boomerang @schoolrumor @firey-phoenixs @foggypkryptonite @evanpetersissohot

@trashfireambrose @goldstarsoup

~If you’d like to be on the Fred Benson taglist, let me know with a comment or an ask/direct message! (Same if I’ve falsely tagged you and you’d like to be removed)~

#stranger things 4 #fred benson x reader #stranger things fred #fred benson #fred x reader #gender neutral reader #ya romance

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felixravinstills · 5 months ago

Text

You know I genuinely thought I replied to your first reblog... I guess I just fully imagined that. I was probably formulating a response in my head, and just didn't type it out. Whoops. (Anyway, thoughts below.)

Felix & Friends (Mostly Just Sejanus)

I imagine that he'd probably befriend the same people (Hilarius, Festus, ect.) because they're who he knows.

I don't think Felix really thinks about Sejanus until he sees him again at school. At that point he probably goes, oh, yeah, I should maybe try and stop him from getting executed for whatever happened in District 12, so he goes and introduces himself. Then, as Sejanus starts testing the waters and seeing why Felix Ravinstill of all people is paying attention and not bullying him.

Felix does realize that Sejanus has a clear stance on the Hunger Games, but it embarrassingly for him isn't until his cousins catch wind of this unexpected friendship that he doesn't really include him into his plans. Felix is subtly advocating against the Games amongst his classmates, but in his mind, there isn't much they can do but be a bit nicer to their tributes when the time comes.

His cousins warn him to be careful of Sejanus trying to curry favor for Strabo Plinth through Felix (as if Felix wouldn't know that). Felix actually realizes that he can potentially use this to his advantage. He can try to influence Strabo Plinth.

While he doesn't let Sejanus in on this plan, I think as they get closer and Sejanus clearly gets into a worse headspace as the Games continue, Felix eventually does let him in on his plan to sway Strabo to being more pro-District (trying to convince Strabo to not pull the ladder up behind himself). Sejanus has very conflicting feelings about this as he would feel a bit used, but eventually, goes along with Felix's plan. (I imagine it takes a while for their burgeoning friendship to repair itself, but they reconcile eventually)

Felix's other classmates and friends from his past life probably think he's weird for befriending Sejanus, but they can't really do anything about it. He's a Ravinstill. There might be a few snide comments, but it doesn't really affect his overall standing. A few of the other kids probably even start treating Sejanus nicer as well.

With introducing his friends to his cousins, I don't think Felix goes out of his way to do it. In my mind, they move out of the Presidential Palace as soon as they hit adulthood after the war, so even if Felix's friends come over, there isn't that high of a chance that they're meeting. Eventually, I think it's the cousins who take the initiative (probably at some social event where they see their baby cousin talking to his friends).

Honestly, Marius and Gnaeus getting to be awkward, protective cousins is kind of giving me life. It would be good for them too. I think they spend all their time re-creating their parents' heir and spare who is also the heir's trusted right-hand dynamic that introducing a new familial relationship not half-rooted in trying to fill their losses will maybe help them heal. (sorry random Marius and Gnaeus lore drop because idk when I'll ever get the chance)

Felix and His Classmates in General

I think that he is generally more approachable to everyone! But him having a different level of maturity definitely affects how he interacts with them. He ends up coming across as patronizing when dealing with his classmate's more childish behavior. I imagine that his mediation gets on people's nerves (he probably played mediator occasionally in his first life to the same effect, but now it's actually more annoying because he's talking like an adult when he looks like their age). Luckily, because he does have a more mature outlook, the kids lashing out at him doesn't really bother him, and because of that, eventually his classmates realize that they were in the wrong for whatever they did and reluctantly apologize. They still read his nonchalant acceptance as smugness. I think that the kids actually start thinking he's cool, but like, reluctantly... Most of his peers are like "I hate that he actually is right." Some people like Livia and Coriolanus fall more heavily on the being annoyed side. In the first life, I think Felix was considered pretty humble for a Ravinstill by most of his classmates. In this life, everyone, even the people who like him, think he's actually insufferable half the time.

Felix: *having the confidence and wisdom he gained as an adult and a happier family life* :) Most of his classmates: If he wasn't genuinely trying to help me with my problems and also actually right (how is he right???), then I would wipe the smile off that smug face.

...

Thanks for you're questions/thoughts! I do love thinking about time traveling Felix! Maybe, one day, this will become a fic. Maybe, after I get a few other ideas out.

Thanks for the comments/response! feel free to ramble at me at any time! And if you send me a response with questions, feel free to poke me in another response or ask, because sometimes, I do just forget I haven't replied lol.

Anyway, I hope this is coherent. I have a bit of a headache right now

Felix Ravinstill Time Travel AU

I answered an ask a while back from @tumblingghosts about how I think a time traveling Felix AU would go, but I only covered what would happen if he was taken back to the year of the 10th Annual Hunger Games. Here, I will speculate a bit about what I think will happen if he went back further (backpacks, since you expressed interest, hope you don't mind the tag):

Felix wakes up at age 4 (going on 5), having just survived the bombing that killed his parents. (lots of time-travel manga/manwha choose to go back to a pivotal event or a situation where the character bumped their head to help explain sudden shifts in behavior. This seemed a good place to put him.)

After getting patched up, no one actually notices Felix is that different from his usual self. His cousins just knew his as their younger cousins and his great-uncle didn't know him that well.

Felix is quiet and confused. He asks a lot of questions to reorient himself to being back in time, but given he just survived a bombing, no one thinks it's that strange.

Until the war ends roughly 4 years later, he's just focused on making sure he survives the war again.

This time around, however, he tries and gets closer to his family members who in the last life were fairly distant from him, because of their baggage.

Given that Felix has the emotional understanding of an adult, this goes pretty well since he knows that when his cousins push him away, they're reacting in response to their own grief of having lost their families too.

To Felix's surprise, demanding more time with the President actually yields results, he kind of has a silent meltdown that getting all the attention he craved as a child could have been a simple as asking for it.

Overall, with the exception of the war going on, Felix's second childhood is actually weirdly happier and he's much more connected to his family members.

The attention that he's getting from the President does in turn, attract Gaul's attention

In the previous time travel scenario, it kind of started to develop into a Snow v. Felix rivalry. Uh, here? It's Gaul v. Felix. Gaul's beefing with an 8 (going on 9) year old by the time the Treaty of Treason is signed.

I like to imagine that without the Hunger Games being immediately in front of him, Felix has kind of wasn't concerned with them becoming a thing. He's still reeling that good communication was all that was needed to stop him from having a nearly nonexistent relationship with his family. Why didn't the older members try to communicate better with him once they had processed their grief a bit more?

He's so conflicted about his better relations with his family that he probably hasn't even put together that Coriolanus killed him yet :)

Don't worry once he starts going to school with Coriolanus and gets to thinking, he does start to realize that it's the best explanation for his very convenient accident. He can't know for sure, but he definitely will never fully trust Coriolanus again.

Back to the Hunger Games, after the 1st Games, Felix has the "oh, crap, those are kids!" moment as someone with an adult mind.

He starts getting sick just thinking about how this is going to happen every year and starts side-eyeing his great-uncle.

His cousins, Marius and Gnaeus, notice since they're closer to him in this timeline, and Felix decides to confide in them to test the waters. If they listen to him, then maybe they'll help him convince the president.

They're sympathetic to his view, but they point out that their family was killed by rebels, and wouldn't it be nice to get revenge?

After mulling their response over, he decides that convincing the Capitol will be hard with the war so fresh in their mind, but later on, they'll be more accustomed to it

while the Hunger Games were not popular by the 10th Games, there's no certainty that they would have died out immediately after them without Snow's interference. It could have gone a few more years before petering out, or found other gimmicks to jumpstart popularity. Besides, trying to get the Capitol to empathize with the District tributes gets harder with every Game. There will plenty of cognitive dissonance at work to help the Capitol justify their actions. After all, no one wants to look back and see the 23 children they slaughtered yearly.

I think Felix whom I have going into politics in his first life (he doesn't get far and only acts as a advisor/staff member) will understand that this is the time to do what politicians do best

He makes a deal with the devil. He goes puts on his best innocent child asking questions he doesn't know could get him into trouble face attempts to bargain with his great-uncle without his great-uncle knowing.

By this point, I think that it becomes clear to Felix that Pres. Maximinius Ravinstill sees him as a kind of stand in to the President's deceased brother, Felix's grandfather. I imagine that Felix's father was the one among his siblings who acted the closest to Pres. Ravinstill's brother.

Felix probably primes the conversation with "what was my grandfather like?" and "what was my father like?" before diving into the Games. At some point after the Games topic switch, Felix hits him with the "what would my grandfather thing?" at a pivotal moment.

Pres. Ravinstill isn't budging on wanting revenge though. Man has lost too much family for that, and I also can't imagine that Felix even as a former politician being ruthless enough to suggest the president just murder rebel adults from the Districts until he feels better

What happens is that Felix realizes that his great-uncle hasn't thought that far ahead with the Games. They were an emotional decision (probably pressured by Gaul but Felix doesn't know that).

Felix doesn't stop the Games. Felix aims lower, extracting a promise from a weary great-uncle. An emotional decision countering a previous one. He convinces Pres. Ravinstill to limit the Games. 10 years, seems like reasonable recompense for the District's uprising. That's 230 children.

This isn't a perfect solution, but Felix isn't a perfect person.

Gaul starts trying to bolster the Games' popularity and usefulness by any means necessary to hopefully overrule the president's promise to a child by making the Games useful as more than a form of revenge

Felix, I think would find unlikely allies within the President's Staff who I can't imagine were all into the child killing game that they have to market to the people. (very dark but I imagine that the Ravinstill Regime right after the war had a very high turnover rate on staff members)

By the 10th Games, I imagine that a few betting system in in place, but without the paired sponsorship system, it's not as successful. (Gaul is trying harder to market. I'm sure she could at least come up with betting. Maybe, it's less official than the system in tbosas)

The 10th Games might not have Academy mentors. Gaul might try something else, but honestly, I think it could be a nice parallel to keep them the same

In fact, I like to imagine that in canon the president rigged Felix's pick to be a low number to keep expectations on him low (he'd intuit that my canon timeline! Felix is very preoccupied with expectations). In this timeline, since Felix is more confident (it comes with being mentally a 35 year old man), he doesn't feel the need to rig Felix's tribute.

In canon, I imagine that Highbottom rigged Coriolanus' tribute selection so he got the District 12 girl (the supposed runt of the litter, you wouldn't be able to account for the specifics age or health, unless your Strabo Plinth and know a specific person because I'm a believer that the Marcus-Sejanus pair was fully rigged)

In this AU, Gaul has begun to despise Felix, but can't take it out on him directly. She rigs his tribute.

So, the stage is set, and at the Reaping, Felix Ravinstill is assigned Lucy Gray Baird as his tribute

This, again, got very long. Also I love that I wrote this all out and ended up setting up the start of a fic... I might never write it. Or if I do it will take me a while to get to it, so if anyone actually feels like taking a stab at this, it could be fun.

Also yes, sorry Dill, this means that you get Coriolanus as a mentor. I feel like Felix would try to look out for her too though. I imagine that he's trying to stop this Game since he's directly involved with it and has some anti-game support from the President's staff and probably Highbottom.

#time travelling felix ravinstill #felix ravinstill #ravinstill extended family lore #president ravinstill #maximinius ravinstill #sejanus plinth #abyssal stuff #abyssal rambles #sharing thoughts

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because-of-a-friend · 3 years ago

Text

Enemies to Lovers!Jeonghan

MASTERLIST

One day I will come up with titles for my works lol.

Hi Hannah!!!! Thanks for requesting! I loved doing this one! I went ahead and went with Jeonghan cuz I feel like he fits this trope best! Sorry you had to wait so long, this particular fic got deleted like... three times so it was a struggle lol. I hope it’s what you were looking for!

I hope this is a good one, I’m realizing I get real insecure about my writing anytime I’m not doing a bulletpoint or reaction fic, so I don’t feel great about this time. Also I only started recently putting actual detail into my kiss scenes and idk how I’m doing with those???? Like do they seem ok??? Also I feel like I make it so obvious that I am such a sucker for SVT having cute nicknames for siblings, friends, partners, etc in fics lol. Anyways...

Also, I really said: Jeonghan... but in different types of lighting

Remember I don’t own the gif! Link to OP is right there if you want to go give the creator some love!!!

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Mentions eating, reader is using female pronouns (I will keep things gn unless you request differently), I think that’s it, pls let me know if I missed any

You’re not sure exactly how it happened. It was probably just an instance of getting off on the wrong foot, that led to more awkward interactions, giving both of you the wrong impression of each other. You knew this, you could rationalize it all. You were well aware that all it would take was one “I think we might have the wrong idea of each other” conversation and it would all be over. You could easily fix it all, but…

But his stupid smug face. The sarcastic jokes. The never-ending pranks that were not as funny as he thought they were. His ridiculous arrogance. His overall unapologetic nature towards all of it.

You couldn’t help but hate Yoon Jeonghan.

*****

“I don’t know, Wonnie…” you say uneasily over the phone. In previous years, you’d go over to the dorm without hesitation. You loved spending time with your brother and many of the other boys. But ever since you had officially met and begun interacting with Jeonghan…

“C’mon, [Y/N]! I bought that new game you were talking about! We can play it together on my gaming system!” Wonwoo began to persuade. You knew you’d give in; you always did. Your brother was far too sweet a person and far too comforting a presence to reject. The question was how long did you want to argue with him about going to the dorm.

You sighed, accepting defeat early to save time, “I’ll head over there in a bit.”

Wonwoo gives a small cry of victory, “Ok, I’ll have Gyu make extra ramen.” Wonwoo abruptly hangs up the phone right after, leaving you in silence to groan in regret of your decision.

You immediately straighten yourself out, though, trying to put yourself in a mindset of determination. What were you thinking? Just because you and that asshole didn’t get along meant you couldn’t go see your own twin brother without feeling uncomfortable? Screw that! If he wanted to keep the peace then he was going to have to start watching where he stepped around you.

*****

You knocked loud and clear on the door of their dorm, knowing that with thirteen people living inside, it was usually too noisy for them to hear someone signal their arrival. To your relief, Seungcheol opened the door just moments after you knocked and greeted you with a warm smile followed by a hand sneaking into your hair to ruffle it, “Hey there, kiddo! How’s it hanging?”

“Just fine,” you tilt your head down slightly in his direction as you pass him to enter the dorm. “How are things here?” As soon as you ask, your ears are met with the noise of someone dropping something in the kitchen, followed by Seungkwan crying in alarm.

“Same as always, I supposed,” Seungcheol sighs, but his smile doesn’t fade. “I think Mingyu and Wonwoo are already in the computer room, if you want to go ahead and see them!”

“Ok, thanks Cheol!” you call as you both rush off in different directions, him towards the kitchen and you towards the small room that would provide you solace from the possibility of having to see Yoon Jeonghan.

You were determined not to let things go how they usually did: you with your mouth clamped shut as Jeonghan spoke whatever teasing words he had saved up for you, and the most you can do to fight back is by rolling your eyes and finding any way to get away from him.

This time, you would still avoid contact with him, but if it happened, you’d speak your mind and not care what he thought, since that’s how he treated you.

But there was no sign of him or anyone else as you walked to the computer room. You could hear Mingyu and Wonwoo yelling and cheering at the game long before you opened the door. It was pitch black inside, the piercing light of the screen making you squint your eyes.

The two men inside both turn immediately to check who offended their dark space with the soft, yellow light from the hallway.

“Oh [Y/N], you came!” Mingyu beams up at you. You nod, matching his bright expression.

“How’s the game?” you ask simply, looking up to your brother.

“We like it so far,” Wonwoo’s smile is wide, he always gets excited about new games, whether they’re good or not. He leans over to grab a can of some sort of energy drink before gulping it down. “We left some ramen for you over there on the table. Eat first, then I’ll let you have a turn.”

You roll your eyes, though Wonwoo was only mere minutes older than you, he found those moments to be enough leverage to order you around and act like you should be dependent on his care. There were times when he even referred to himself as “oppa” to you and insisted that you do the same.

Most of the time you let it slide, especially when you weren’t in the mood to argue. However, there were times when you’d pull out the “We’re the same age,” “Even if you’re older, I’m smarter,” or “Don’t boss me around when I’m more mature than you” cards at the drop of a hat.

“Can you at least turn on the LEDs while I eat?” you ask, tip-toeing in the darkness towards the table at the back end of the room. You hear a click before a soft blue glow fills the room, finally giving you a clear view of your path. You pull the bowl of ramen towards you as you sit and resist the urge to comment on how little they left you. The dorm was filled with food anyways, you could find more later if you got hungry again.

Wonwoo and Mingyu begin to eagerly tell you what they like about the game as you eat. You listen happily, feeling safe in the presence of your brother and friend.

Then of course…

“Hey you two, Cheol wanted me to remind you that we have to get up early tomorrow,” you can’t help the sour expression that comes over your face as Jeonghan enters the room to speak to Wonwoo and Mingyu. “Oh, hey there cutie, I didn’t know you were here!” His smirk makes you sick.

“Don’t call me that,” you say bitterly into the nearly empty bowl.

Wonwoo looks nervously between you and his bandmate, well aware of the dislike you have for him. He’s grateful that you’ve always kept it so civil, but still feels bothered by the unrest between you.

Jeonghan lets out a little giggle in response, and Wonwoo feels a tug in the pit of his stomach, he wishes Jeonghan wouldn’t be so hard on you sometimes. He knows his hyung doesn’t mean anything by it, but you…

You feel your heart sink as Jeonghan steps fully into the room, striding to sit across from you at the table. You can only stare in wonder at his audacity as he slides the bowl towards himself and finishes off the ramen in one bite.

“I was eating that,” you try to keep your tone measured, attempting to keep within the balance of standing up for yourself but not starting any drama that would affect the boys.

“Go make more if you’re hungry, then,” Jeonghan says casually, making your anger positively flare.

You don’t even give your brother the chance to mediate, jumping up from your place and leaving the room, wanting to be anywhere but around that prick.

*****

��You’re leaving already?” Mingyu pouts at you.

“Gyu, I’ve been here for hours,” you laugh, stretching out your fingers as they start to prick from pain of slamming into a keyboard for so long. You had returned to the computer room but only after Jeonghan left. Part of you had wished you had done more to confront him; another part was glad you didn’t start a fight and put Wonwoo in an awkward position. “Besides all of you, as well as me have to get up early tomorrow, it’s already late. I need to get back home.”

“You can stay here,” Wonwoo was quick to offer.

You shook your head at him, “Then I’ll just have to get up even earlier, I’ll go back to my place.” Wonwoo nods almost reluctantly, standing to walk you out.

All of you run into Joshua on your way to the front door, he turns out to be the only one smart enough to ask how you got there.

“Oh, I took the bus,” you say slowly, knowing this is about to cause issues.

“Well, the last one would have already stopped running by now,” Mingyu says looking at the time on his phone.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Josh offers immediately.

You bring your hands up to shake them back and forth, “No, no, I can find a way home, you all need to go to bed.”

“[Y/N],” Wonwoo speaks up immediately in that stern voice you hate but also can’t help but listen to, “let Josh take you home. It’s either that or you stay here, I won’t have you walking around alone at night.” Wonwoo waits a moment to gauge your expression. He finally nods affirmatively, before speaking directly to Joshua, “Take her home, please.”

Joshua nods before walking off to grab his keys. You and Wonwoo send Mingyu off to bed. Once you’re alone, your brother pulls you in for a tight hug. “Do you want me to say something to him?” he asks lowly.

You shake your head, “I don’t want to cause any problems with you guys.” You sit in silence for a moment. “Come and stay over with me sometime, I miss our sleepovers.”

Joshua comes back and Wonwoo pulls away, “Thanks, hyung. Please get her home safe.” For the second time that night, your hair gets ruffled before your brother disappears to go off to bed.

The ride home with Joshua is comfortable. He speaks kindly to you and makes you smile.

You begin to wonder how amongst all these angels, there exists a person like Yoon Jeonghan.

*****

Wonwoo used the new game as leverage to guilt you into coming over quite often in the following weeks. You hadn’t realized how much you had limited your time at the dorm until you started going consistently once more. It was nice being able to spend time with the boys again. You hated that Jeonghan had become such an unbearable presence that it affected your relationship with the rest of your friends.

But ever since you had started to stand your ground and talk back, he had finally begun to avoid you. You supposed it was only fun for him when you sat there and took it.

It didn’t stop the two of you from bickering when you saw each other, but now both of you preferred to avoid each other instead of Jeonghan seeking you out to tease you.

The following weeks of visiting were fairly comfortable. Whenever Jeonghan wasn’t around, you got to spend plenty of time with the other boys and your brother. Plus, the new video game was even better than expected.

Jeonghan’s presence slowly became uncomfortable in a different way.

Instead of being smug and overbearing, he became strangely quiet around you. His facial expressions became more serious as he sent genuine glares your way before letting out bitter remarks and going on his way.

It made you even angrier.

Who the hell was he to torture you all this time and then act like a kicked puppy when you finally fought back???

Your anger and his bitterness slowly escalated the tension between you two. Although they were happening less frequently, the arguments between you became more serious and almost hurtful.

Whatever, you told yourself, he could do as he pleased, you wouldn’t let it affect you anymore.

*****

You stared down at your phone screen. Why? Why did it have to be here, while you were at the dorm?

The call was only five minutes. They didn’t even do it in person. Of course, they had warned that because of hard times, there’d be lay-offs soon. But they couldn’t even do it in person? And all you got was a simple “Sorry, come collect your things on Monday”??? You were a hard worker, passionate about the job, more efficient than most of your coworkers and this is how they treated you???

A part of you could’ve guessed, many of the employees your age had gotten in because of nepotism. But you didn’t want to believe that they’d just brush off all your years of hard work just to avoid stepping on the toes of higher-ups who had relative connections hired at the company.

You squatted against the wall of the hallway, still too in shock to move.

So, you simply sat in silence, for what seemed like forever.

“You good?” you had never felt worse than the exact moment his voice reached your ears.

“Go away,” you said sternly, knowing you’d be crying soon.

“Geez, forgive me for asking,” Jeonghan responds before turning to walk away. He stops abruptly after you sniffle. “So, you’re not ok?”

“No offense, Jeonghan,” you say hating the way your voice is shaking, “but you are the last person I want to speak to right now.”

There’s a heavy silence for a long moment. You silently pray that he’ll just leave. “Do you want me to get your brother?” he asks lightly.

You shake your head, “No, I don’t want to ruin the mood. I’m going to go home, just tell him I had a stomach ache.” You push yourself up and begin to walk briskly towards the door.

To your surprise, Jeonghan reaches out to stop you. You stare at his hand wrapped around your arm and wonder if you’ve ever even allowed him to touch you before. “It’s already late, let me give you a ride.”

You pull his hand off of you, “No, thanks.” You grab your coat and start to dig around in your purse to make sure you have all of your belongings.

“[Y/N],” Jeonghan’s voice rings clear in your head despite your brain feeling fuzzy. You don’t want to look at him. Who is this person that’s showing concern and speaking kindly? You don’t like it. It feels fake. It feels like a predator playing with a wounded prey. You’re just waiting for him to laugh or make a remark or do anything to make you feel worse than you already do.

But Jeonghan simply grabs the keys laying on the front table, grabs your arm once more, and leads you out to the car.

*****

The ride is suffocatingly silent. You wished he’d at least turn on some music to cover up the sound of your crying, but you remained in the quiet. You rolled down your window and stuck your head out, letting the warm night air and sound of wind comfort you. Since you were turned away from him completely, you didn’t see Jeonghan glancing over at you throughout the drive.

You couldn’t have left that car faster when you finally pulled up to your apartment.

To your dismay, Jeonghan also gets out, apparently intent on walking you up.

“You don’t have to-” you start but abruptly stop when he gives you a look telling you an emotion you don’t quite understand.

Jeonghan finally speaks when you’re riding the elevator up to your floor, “I don’t really mean it, you know.”

“Mean what?” you say weakly, starting to feel the exhaustion from crying so much.

“When I talk to you like that… I mean when I’m… rude,” he trails off, running a hand through his hair. “Usually it’s just teasing, but obviously I went too far with you. And I didn’t realize it until you started showing how upsetting it was for you. I should’ve known before that, though.”

“You seemed ruder after I started talking back,” you say, confused.

“I was just being petty and defensive. I kept telling myself things like: It’s her fault, isn’t it? She should have made it more clear from the beginning that it was upsetting her. How was I supposed to know? But that was just me being immature, I should’ve just talked to you.”

“Is that an… apology, Yoon Jeonghan?” you ask, letting yourself be a little smug.

For the first time, you get a genuine smile out of him, “Maybe.”

There’s more silence for a second.

“It’s a two-way road, though,” you say finally.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“I mean, I could have also come and talked to you instead of letting things escalate,” you say. “I played some part in all of this… unpleasantness. You can’t entirely blame yourself.”

Jeonghan smiles again, reaching out to ruffle your hair the way Seungcheol always did. Then he takes a dramatic deep breath and rolls his shoulders, “There! That feels better, doesn’t it? We can finally be friends!”

You roll your eyes in a playful manner, but you feel it too, a weight has been lifted.

*****

Wonwoo showed up at your door in the middle of the night that night. You took one look at his frantic face and groaned, “I told Jeonghan I would tell you myself.”

“You should have told me immediately!” your brother pouts as he passes you to walk into your apartment.

“I didn’t want to worry you so late, especially when all of you were having a good time. I was going to tell you tomorrow,” you close the door behind him. You watch as he turns on the TV and starts picking through your pantry. “Hmmm, yes it seems quite clear that you came here out of concern for me,” you can’t help but use a sarcastic tone.

Wonwoo sends a glare your way as he grabs snacks and settles on the couch. You sit next to him, grabbing your fair share of the food. You try to keep your attention on the show, but the feeling of Wonwoo staring straight at you is distracting.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to worry,” you sigh.

“Really? Because Jeonghan described you as an emotional wreck,” your brother scoffs.

“I was just shocked and upset. I’ll be ok. I have a good resume, I can find a new job,” you insist.

“I keep telling you, you don’t have to work-”

“I don’t care how much you make,” you interrupt. “I’m not going to depend on you. It’ll just make trouble for both of us.”

“Will you at least let me help out if there’s any problems before you find a new job?” Wonwoo kicks at your leg.

“Like I would even tell you if I was having trouble,” you return his kick.

“You just can’t help but be difficult,” your brother complains quietly.

You let the sound of the show take over the room for a few minutes. “I do have good news,” you finally speak up, wanting to give your brother some peace of mind about something. “Me and Jeonghan made up. We figured it out.”

Wonwoo bolts upright with a grin on his face, “Really??? It’s really all good now?”

“100%,” you say, unable to stop yourself from pinching your brother’s cheeks, finding his excited expression cute.

“Let’s celebrate soon then! We can have a big gaming party with all of the boys!” You agree to your brother’s proposal. You feel content in this moment, knowing you’ll wake up in the morning in an uncomfortable position, immediately kick at his legs and tell him to get his stinky feet away from you.

*****

Your time at the dorm increases with the weight of you and Jeonghan’s rivalry being gone. You’re enjoying getting to know him as a friend instead of constantly walking on eggshells around him. Going to visit the boys is once again a happy and comfortable experience.

You hadn’t realized how much Jeonghan had affected you until you two had worked things out. The world felt light again and you could breathe, no longer in constant worry of possibly ruining things between your brother and his bandmates.

You hoped things would remain without complications for a long time.

*****

“Seungkwan, you should come with us!” you begged. “The carnival only comes once a year; you can’t miss it!”

“But it’s so crowded and there are screaming kids everywhere,” Seungkwan complains.

“Oh, whatever,” Soonyoung interjects. “You love it every time we go.”

Seungkwan gives Soonyoung a look that has you laughing through your mouthful of ramen. “Oh, shoot,” you say feeling liquid start to dribble down your chin. “Can I get a napkin?”

“Here’s one,” you hear Jeonghan’s voice as he enters the room. You reach out to grab the napkin as Seungkwan and Soonyoung continue bickering. But instead of handing it to you, Jeonghan extends his hand not holding the napkin towards you. His fingers come to lightly touch your chin and turn you towards him. Jeonghan wipes your face with the napkin himself, taking the time to make sure it’s really all clean. “All better,” he smiles at you, running his thumb across your chin to check its cleanliness one last time.

As Jeonghan walks away, you turn to see if Seungkwan or Soonyoung saw what had happened. They were still arguing, though. The boys showing you physical touch or affection wasn’t really all that uncommon. But for some reason, the way Jeonghan had grabbed your chin just now… Why was your heart beating so hard?

*****

You couldn’t stop yourself from dragging Wonwoo all over the carnival. It was nice to get out in this environment, the lights, the laughter, the food, the games, the rides. You wanted to do everything, but not before you looked at all there was and took in the spectacle.

You could hear all the boys laughing excitedly behind you, you knew they’d want to try everything as well. You shook your head at Seungkwan’s bright expression, you couldn’t wait to play the ‘I told you so’ card later.

The night was a blur. All of you ran from games to rides to snacks and then all over again.

You couldn’t help but stop completely in your tracks as you passed a booth with a giant stuffie of your favorite animal as a prize. Your fascination with the plushie doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You want me to win it for you?” Jeonghan’s voice is suddenly speaking right into your ear. You jump after realizing he was right behind you. You grip your cotton candy a bit tighter and shyly nod. The way Jeonghan grins at you fills you with warmth.

You watch him walk over to the booth. His light hair and pink shirt were illuminated by the soft glow of the surrounding lights. Jeonghan takes his wallet out and hands some bills to the vendor. You step up closer to stand next to him as he plays the game. He laughs as he chats back and forth with the vendor. You watch in awe as Jeonghan clears the game, no problem.

“Anything from the top shelf!” the vendor exclaims happily.

“That one please,” Jeonghan points right at the stuffie you had been staring at.

“It’ll be a wonderful memory for your girlfriend,” the vendor smiles as he hands the prize directly to you.

“Oh, I’m-”

“Of course!” Jeonghan interrupts you almost instantly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and starting to pull you away from the game. “We’ll cherish it for a long time! Thanks for the game!” The vendor waves kindly as you two walk away. After a moment, Jeonghan pulls his arm off of you, “Sorry, sometimes it’s just easier to agree than explain, you know?” You nod in agreement. “Wait a second,” he stops you by putting his hands on your shoulders and standing in front of you. Before you can ask what’s wrong, his hand comes up towards your face as it had earlier that day. He quickly swipes his thumb across your lips before pulling to back to show you remnants of your cotton candy. “Do you always eat this messily?” he grins and then, to your surprise, puts his thumb in his mouth to clean it off.

You stand there, frozen, unable to really comprehend what just happened as Jeonghan walks away towards the other boys.

“For the second time today?” Soonyoung is suddenly standing next to you.

“So you did see what happened earlier!” you exclaimed, hitting his arm lightly. “It was weird, right?!”

“Can’t tell yet,” Soonyoung replies cocking his head to the side and putting his hands in his pocket. “Sometimes Jeonghan is just sort of naturally flirtatious. But I’m not sure about you. I figured since you two didn’t get along at first, it’d take him awhile to warm up to you at that level. He seemed to get comfortable with you quite quickly.” Soonyoung turns and shrugs at you after his words.

“You’re no help at all,” you say emotionlessly. There’s a pause before both you and Soonyoung slowly look at each other and laugh at your quip.

You decide to brush off your new concerns about Jeonghan and enjoy this night with the boys. The vendor was right, it was a good memory, and you’re sure it’d last you for your whole lifetime.

*****

You hate yourself a bit for it, but you once again seem to be avoiding Jeonghan. He had made you so nervous that day, and the way your heart pounded… You didn’t want to get sucked into having a silly crush on him if he wasn’t actually trying to flirt with you.

No, from now on, interactions with Jeonghan would be friendly but short and appropriate.

You were stupid to think he wouldn’t notice.

It wasn’t long before there came a night when Jeonghan insisted that he be the one to give you a ride home. You couldn’t help the way your nerves spiked at his determination to be the one to take you. You knew he most likely wanted to talk to you about your sudden distance from him.

The ride itself was nice, Jeonghan rolled the windows down for you, remembering that you enjoyed the warm night air of summer. You talked comfortably with one another. Jeonghan was always able to make you smile so easily.

You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him. He was just wearing a t-shirt and sweats but… His blonde hair being illuminated in the moonlight as he ran his hands through it and his bright smile as he laughed...

He really was beautiful.

Once again, Jeonghan came with you to walk you to your door. And once again, he finally spoke up in the elevator, “You’ve been avoiding me, sweetheart.” Your heart drops to your stomach at the nickname. “Is everything ok? Did I do something to make you mad again?”

You quickly shake your head and pull your hands up to shake them as well, “No! Not at all!”

“You sure?” he insists.

“Yoon Jeonghan, you really don’t think I’d tell you if you did?” you say.

He giggles, “Yeah, that’s true. You’d let me know the moment I messed up, wouldn’t you?” The elevator dings and opens up to your floor. You and Jeonghan step out together. “Is everything else ok, then? You don’t start avoiding people for no reason.”

You nod as casually as possible, “Everything is great.” Your tone isn’t convincing and Jeonghan nudges you. “I guess, I just got… nervous? I mean one moment we were like enemies and then the next we were suddenly really… close, and-”

“I made you uncomfortable?” Jeonghan’s voice is slightly panicked.

“No, you did nothing wrong! It’s all on me, I just got caught up in my emotions and-” you stop abruptly when you realize what you were about to do.

Jeonghan nods quietly as if to say he understands, but what it is he understands, you’re not sure. “Is it ok for us to remain close, or do you want me to back off?”

“I don’t want any more distance between us, but…” you trail off.

“But, what?” he prompts you again.

“I don’t want to get the wrong idea about anything…” you say, finally reaching your door.

Jeonghan watches as you slowly unlock your door and push it open, “You haven’t gotten the wrong idea about anything.” He avoids eye contact when you look up at him.

You’re shocked by his forwardness. But once he voices his thoughts out loud, you once again feel the feeling of a weight being lifted.

Jeonghan gestures for you to step inside, catching your arm once you fully pass him. He pulls you back to him, close enough for him to lean in and leave a quick kiss on your cheek, “Night, babe, I’ll see you later.”

You stand there, completely still, staring at your door that had shut closed in front of you. You can feel heat rise from the tip of your toes all the way up to your ears. You finally let yourself fall into a squatting position, covering your face with your hands, and letting out a squeal.

*****

Jeonghan invites you to meet up outside of the dorm. It’s a cute little coffee shop at a quiet part of the city. You’re already sitting when he walks in. Maybe one day, you won’t be completely caught off guard by his beauty… but today is not that day.

His whole person is bathed in the glow of the early morning light as he approaches you, the softest, most genuine smile gracing his face.

“No, don’t get up,” he says when you try to leave your chair, “I need to go off and order anyways.” Jeonghan leans down to kiss your forehead firmly. “I just wanted to come say hi first,” he whispers, holding your face close to his.

Your first date sets a wonderful precedent to the rest of your relationship. Jeonghan gets your heart racing with flirty comments and sweet touches. But he also makes you feel calm and content, easily keeping a smile on your face. You just feel… good throughout it all.

You insist on walking him back to the dorm, since they had schedules that day.

“So, we’ll be doing this again?” Jeonghan asks hopefully, as you reach the front door.

“Definitely,” you nod enthusiastically up at him, wondering how you had ever managed to despise the man that made you feel so whole and happy.

Jeonghan looks utterly happy and a tiny bit nervous as he stares down at you. His hand reaches up to brush back your hair before settling firmly against your face. Jeonghan looks at you so fondly as he leans in. His lips connect to yours… so softly… so sweetly. You can feel his nose nudge against your face to push it into a preferred position. He pulls back slightly after every little kiss to let out laughter so sweet, it sounds like it should be coming from the mouth of an angel. But he’s never far away for long, reconnecting to you quickly every time. You let him take the lead, allowing his lips to take care of yours, giving them the sweetest kind of attention. He pulls back for a moment longer to nuzzle his nose against yours, an action that has you gripping his shirt to keep him close. His hands keep themselves entertained by running across your face or through your hair.

He’s going back in to kiss you once again when he front door of the dorm opens, leaving you caught in the act. Wonwoo stares at you two for a long moment before making a single comment that causes you and Jeonghan to laugh.

“You know, when I said I wanted you two to have a better relationship, this isn’t exactly what I meant.”

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kooktrash · 3 years ago

Note

14 and jk pls

okay bestie, 14: sleepover and decide to play t or d BUT WITH A TWIST. I got inspo from the CUT game Truth Or Drink, but anyways. hope you like it. omg I’m scared

summary: you’ve been friends with Jungkook for months now, a severe thunderstorm and a drinking game blurs the lines between friendship and more.

warning(s): mature language, college friends, drinking, jungkook is a bit flirty, some of the questions are dirty, implied smut, friends with feeling. Plot with little porn.

truth or drink | jeon jungkook

- “The weather app sucks ass,” he huffed, staring out the window into the thunderstorm waiting for him outside. His eyes shifted down to the app, which changed from a warm night to showcasing clouds of gray and thunder on his screen.

“Severe Thunder Storm warning, if you are from any of the following districts, blah blah blah, remain sheltered from the time being until 6:45am the following day,” you read the weather alert out loud. Jungkook looked back at you, “Um what? I live clear across town, how the hell am I gonna get through that?”

It was true. Your dear friend lived far from your place, and the original plan for the two of you tonight was to study for your Psych exam and then go out for drinks with your friends. It had already been a struggle trying to get him to study, but now he was in an even worse mood because you weren’t going to be able to go out drinking. “Just sleepover crybaby,” you rolled your eyes making yourself comfortable on your couch, “Let’s drink or something.”

“Just us two?” He gnawed on his bottom lip nervously stepping away from the window and looking down at you, “Won’t it be boring?”

“Jieun’s got some drinking games here somewhere, check the media console,” you instructed him, stretching lazily as you pushed yourself up again, “I’ll go find something to drink for us. I think we still have some bottles of Soju laying around.”

“Truth or Drink, what the fuck is that?” Jungkook asked, scooting next to you on the coffee table as he held a little white box. Upon opening it he was met with four different card deck boxes, he read them carefully, “Which one should we do?”

He read the box, Last Call, eyes skimming the quick summary on the back, “Warning, do not play these questions unless it’s very late and you’ve got nothing to lose. Let’s play this one. Wait but it says three or more people.”

You poured Soju into two small glasses, “Yeah it’s to help find winners because the dealer has to choose between two answers. But let’s just play it a different way, there’s usually two questions on a card, we choose the best one, ask the other person and if they can’t answer they drink. And then we can ask the second question if we want to.”

“I need a beginner’s drink real quick,” he chugged down the liquor set in front of them, urging you to do the same, “I want to go first. I just have to pick a card from the pile and ask you?”

You nodded, setting two small piles on the table and waiting for him to decide which one he wants to ask. His eyes widened, “Oh fuck, these questions are heavy. First one and it’s already a lot. Um anyways,” he shook his head as if giving himself motivation, “Does our relationship bring out the best in you? In me? If not, why?”

You thought about it for a moment, “I think, we bring out the best in each other. You’re my best friend and you make me laugh easily and always make me feel comfortable and not a lot of people make me feel that way. I do think I am a better person because of our friendship.”

He wiped at his eye, pretending to shed a tear, “That was beautiful. Okay hurry up, ask me something.” He set the card to the side, waiting patiently for you to choose one. You laughed reading the question, “Who is in control of our relationship?”

“Fuck you, you know you are,” Jungkook huffed crossing his arms in front of him, “Everybody calls me your little puppy. I have separation anxiety it is not my fault.” The two of you chuckled, you watched him reach into the deck again, brows arching as he read, “What am I the most ignorant about?”

You debated answering. There were a few things your friend was ignorant about but you weren’t sure how to say it. In reality the two of you had barely been friends for a little over a year and though you hung out all the time you weren’t sure you were ready to have any deeper conversations. You reached for your drink, taking a drink swiftly ignoring the way his jaw dropped to the floor, “Don’t play with me, answer.”

“I can’t,” you shrugged, “I already took a drink. It’s Truth or Drink, not Truth and Drink.” He leaned forward a little, pout evident on his face, “Please. Please just answer this one. This is the only one I’ll ask you to do.”

“Fine!” You groaned throwing yourself back onto the pillow you set behind you, “I think you can be ignorant when it comes to your looks.” His brows furrowed, turning toward you, tempted to lay down as well. “I mean,” you thought for a moment, “Everyone knows you’re an attractive guy, except you. You’re always complaining about being single or lonely. And I know a ton of girls who’d kill to go on a date with you.”

“Wait,” he shook his head trying to process the information, “You think I’m attractive?” You rolled your eyes, sitting back up with a sigh, “That wasn’t part of the question. My turn.”

You sighed, reading the question out loud, “Do I often seem like I’m being fake?”

He thought for a moment, “Yes. Sometimes I feel like, you don’t really want to be friends with me, or that I annoy you and you just don’t know how to tell me to leave you alone. Or that you just keep me around because you’re bored.”

“Aw,” you frowned, “Oh my god, Kook I’m sorry I make you feel that way. I promise our friendship is 100% real and I am not being fake about it at all.” He smiled widely looking over to the other decks, picking the red one up, “Extra Dirty, let’s play it.”

“No,” you groaned as he changed the mood in the room rather quickly with his distracted mind. He ignored you reading the summary, “Sex, drugs, and rock n roll. All the questions your dark subconscious wants to ask your friends. Yeah let’s play it, the other deck was getting too emotional, can we do this one instead?”

“Fine but if it’s anything too weird I’m just drinking,” you told him. He nodded understandingly as he reached for a card, choking on his own spit for a minute before an evil smile came to his face, “What’s something you wish your ex would have done sexually, but didn’t?”

Fuck. Of course he’d be smiling at this question. Jungkook absolutely hated your ex boyfriend, Hobi. He thought he was rude and sexist and you had to agree just a little. You were friends with Hobi now but he wasn’t the best in a relationship. “Fuck,” you bit your lower lip in concentration, “I’ll tell you but this stays between you and I.”

He stuck his pinky finger out, locking it with yours as he waited eagerly for your answer. You weren’t going to pussy out of a question again so you were just going to say it. “He could never make me cum from eating me out, like never, not even with his fingers,” you hurriedly covered your face with your hands embarrassment filling you as it sat quietly on Jungkook’s end. The breakup was fairly recent so it was still a little awkward and the few hook ups you ve had since then sucked ass. “My turn,” you reached for a card taking his silence as a sign of awkwardness.

Huffing, you read carefully, “Do you find me physically attractive? What if I bat my eyelashes like this?” You did as the card said, batting your lashes at him with innocent and big eyes. He sat for a moment, “Most definitely, he said quickly grabbing another card, “You’re unbelievably attractive. Anyways.”

You could see his tongue push against his cheek, brows knitted together, “What’s your most complimented anatomical feature as described by your lovers?”

You chuckled lightly, “Realistically? Probably my chest.” You caught the way his eyes lingered down for a moment, face softening as he nodded his head. You giggled looking down at the card you just picked from the pile, “Are you loud during sex? Demonstrate with a dramatic interpretation of your signature sounds.”

“I’m drinking,” he mumbled but you shook your head laughing. “No no, you had me answer a question after I drank so I’m gonna do the same. I really want to hear what you got.” He groaned, covering his face in his hands, “Give me a minute, let me take this drink first.”

“Okay so,” he cleared his throat, “I wouldn’t say I’m loud, but I’m not quiet either. I think it also depends on what we’re doing. I’m louder when I’m getting my dick sucked, and it kinda sounds like, um,” he paused for a second. Breathing getting heavier as he began to show you, his mouth fell open, small whines leaving his lips followed by a couple grunts, “Fuck! Okay I’m done. Let me pick a damn card.”

You bursted out laughing as his ears turned a dark red. “It’s getting serious,” you giggled not noticing the way his embarrassed expression turned into a sly smirk, “Got your ass bestie, now it’s your turn. Give a passionate example of your dirty talk.”

You threw yourself back dramatically, debating on taking a drink or not. He smiled, “If you drink you’re a pussy.” “Fine hold on,” you say up scooting closer to him. Clearing your throat, you touched his shoulder lightly, bringing yourself closer to his ear too scared to say it loud so you chose to whisper instead. “You have really pretty hands Kook,” you started. He tensed underneath you for a moment, “I wouldn’t mind having them wrapped around my neck here and there.” Maybe it was the liquor already in your system but this wasn’t as embarrassing as you thought it’d be, and the goosebumps on his skin were making you want to say just a little bit more before it ended.

“And your fingers are so long and pretty,” you looked down at his tattooed hand, “I wonder how they’d feel all over me— Okay I’m done! My turn,” you grabbed a card, ignoring his silent stance. “If we were in a porn together, what category would it be under?”

He cleared his throat sitting straighter as he recollected himself, “Probably something along the lines of, ‘College Hunk Destroys Bratty Girl’ yeah that’d definitely be it.”

“You’re annoying,” you rolled your eyes as he went on for his turn, reading it loudly, “Are you a good kisser? If so, demonstrate.”

“It does not say that,” you muttered. You knew for a fact it didn’t. When Jieun got the game the two of you read every card in every deck and none of them were that suggestive. They said crazy things but nothing that involved intimate physical contact with someone else playing. “It does,” Jungkook said as matter-of-fact. “Okay then show me where it says that.”

“No.”

“Then you’re a liar,” you reached for the card but he held it away, “If you’re a bad kisser just say that Y/n.”

“I’m not!” You whined stretching forward for the card, hand pushing in his knee. He smiled at you, holding the card high as your faces were just a mere inches away from each other, “Well then demonstrate or take the L.” You sighed, hands using his legs to push yourself forward. He stared down at you, arm slowly lowering but his grip on the card was tight in case you tried snatching it out. You looked down at his parted and waiting lips, debating if you should actually go for it.

You were both a little tipsy, and you could always just blame your kiss on the alcohol. It wasn’t like you never thought about Jungkook in that way but you did your best to keep it as a simple friendship. Getting the courage, your back arched slightly as you leaned up to connect your lips with his softly. It was a soft kiss, his lips mets yours immediately going in for it. It wasn’t anything special but he was very obviously a good kisser. When you felt him dip in to further the kiss you attempted to pull away, his following lips going after you. Before you could catch your breath after your separation, his hand dropped the card, Both hands flying to your jaw and cupping your face in his hands as he pulled you in again.

You fell forward, hands gripping his shoulders to steady yourself. His large hands were soft, the pad of his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he pushed his tongue against you. You opened your mouth a little more allowing him access. Your could hear buzzing in the back, but as you tried to pull away, Jungkook only held you closer. You didn’t mind though, if you would’ve known kissing your best friend felt this good, you might’ve tried it sooner. His hands trailed down to your waist, pulling you swiftly onto his lap, as he leaned back against the legs of the couch. You pressed yourself closer deepening the kiss as your hands grinned onto his hair lightly. His hands brushed your sides and under your shirt. His cold hands on your bare stomach surprised you, the hand gripping a lock of hair pulled causing him to let out a breathy groan.

He pushed you down onto the floor, hovering above you as he wrapped your legs around his waist. His hands pushed your shirt up, kisses trailing down your jaw and neck, “If you don’t want this, tell me now because I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“I want you,” you told him as he looked down at you with doe eyes. “I want you too.”

yoongi: i got locked out of my place. ur at y/n’s right? can I come over?

yoongi: hellooooo

yoongi: ANSWER YOUR PHONE

yoongi: if I catch a cold I’m suing fat

A/n OKAY LISTEN. I wanted to put smut in but I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with that so I chose not to. I hope you like it, and I can always do a Drabble with smut if that’s something you want. Thank you for requesting bestie, and DONT BE SHY

#kpop #jeon jungkook #Jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #bts drabble #kooktrash requests #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #min yoongi #park jimin #bts #bts smut #bts one shot #bts requests

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jkstompers · 4 years ago

Text

noise complaints | myg

pairing: min yoongi x female reader

summary: yoongi is tired of his loud, video game addicted roommate, so he decides to move out and get his own apartment for some peace and quiet. but with his luck, gets you as his neighbor: a girl who plays bass in a band and hates the feeling of earbuds in her ears.

word count: 5.8k

genre: neighbor!au, producer yoongi, bassist oc, pwp ( ；∀；) i tried but rlly it’s just... smut

warnings: mature!! (18+!), explicit language, smut, making out, fingering, dom!yoongi, he’s a little mean

author’s note: hi!!!!!! in honor of yoongi’s birthday, i wanted to post this fic that i had sitting in my drafts! i hope u enjoy!! (´⌣`ʃƪ) pls let me know what u think!

banner pic creds here <3

yoongi doesn’t know how to tell his roomate, mark, that his gaming obsession has driven him to take extreme measures that consist of: moving out. he never stops playing video games. all day, all night, his eyes are fixed on the computer or tv screen, always screaming to his team mates about where to go or who’s fucking up. yoongi’s not sure if he can take it anymore.

he’s finally saved up enough to move into an apartment of his own, he’s been planning this for almost 6 months; already visited the apartment complex, discussed prices, background checks, etc. all yoongi really needs to do is finish signing the papers and start moving in.

he decides to just let mark know, no sugarcoat. as yoongi expected, mark practically begs on his knees for him to stay. his parents are paying for his share of the apartment but only if he splits the cost with a roommate, but yoongi’s gone through two years of it already, he’s over it. over the next few days, mark watches yoongi dejectedly as he packs his things.

by the end of the week, yoongi has finished packing and already signed the lease. he tells mark ‘good luck’ and leaves him in the dust, hopefully he’ll find another roommate, but that’s beyond yoongi’s concern now. all he has to worry about now is unpacking his boxes in his brand new apartment.

he looks around at the empty space, with the boxes cornered in one section. he smiles to himself, no noisy roomates, no unwashed dishes, no dirty laundry, ah, finally. peace and qui—

and that’s when he hears the blare of your speakers, it’s not loud enough for the entire complex to hear, but the music obviously bleeds through the shared wall. yoongi groans, knowing that this could be a complete repeat of mark. he’s not sure if he should knock on your door and ask you to lower the music down, it’s only his first day here. don’t you treat your neighbors with respect? why are you so loud?

yoongi decides to ignore it for now. he unpacks his things and starts furnishing the room so he can have a place to sleep for the night. when everything is put together, he feels the weight of the day; how much he’s been lifting and how he’s now renting an apartment hits him all at once. the dull pain resonates in his arms, his head starting to ache, and you’re still playing your fucking music. he can’t take it anymore, especially not with this ache getting worse.

yoongi feels his fist knock angrily against your door three times, he waits for you to open the door. except, he was not expecting a pretty girl to answer, he was expecting maybe an obnoxious frat guy; he’s absolutely flustered. you stand there and look up at him confused, “hi? did you need something?” your voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

“i’m— uh, i’m your neighbor, i’m sorry to disrupt, but if you could just lower your music down a bit, i’m really tired, and—” he starts but a gasp of excitement leaves you, cutting him off.

“my neighbor?! that apartment has been empty for so long! i’m so sorry, i was just so used to no one being able to hear! welcome! i’m ___!” you greet him cheerfully, taking his hands into yours and shaking them. yoongi feels his cheeks turn pink, your hands are soft and you’re so pretty.

“my name is yoongi,” he replies, he stands there not really knowing how to respond to the way you’re so excited. he wishes he could reciprocate but his head is pounding, all he wants to do is sleep.

you pick up on his energy, letting go of his hands to wave him off, “i’ll turn the music off for today, get some rest, yoongi, if you need help, some sugar or something, you can always just knock on my door,” you smile.

yoongi nods, “thank you, ___, goodnight.”

“goodnight, yoongi! nice meeting you,” you reply, closing your door. you blush behind the door, a neighbor? a cute one at that? there’s a sudden rush of adrenaline pulsing through your veins, testing you, telling you to blast your music just so he could come back and you could look at him one more time. but you decide it’s better not to, he said he was tired, maybe tomorrow.

yoongi returns to his apartment, thankful that you kept to your word and kept the music off. his body drifts his pounding head to sleep.

two weeks had gone by before yoongi’s eyes, he spent most of it buying furniture since the apartment looked so bare. one upside to a loft apartment was that he didn’t have to buy too much furniture, a bed, a couch, a tv, and maybe a rug was enough for him, for now of course.

in the time that’s passed, he’s learned that you like playing music when you’re studying, cleaning, when you’re doing anything really. whenever he thinks it’s too loud, he knocks through the wall, you get the hint most of the time. he’s also learned that you can play the bass and that you’re in a band. speaking of that, you’re having a meeting with them right now, and yoongi can hear every word of it.

your band mates decided to barge into your apartment today, waking you from your study nap and telling you that you all need to practice. the volume of their voices is jarring, you never realized how loud you and your surroundings were until yoongi moved in. you’re suddenly conscious about your volume at all times, his knocks whenever you were loud always made you feel terrible, but you couldn’t help but blush whenever you thought of him. you were torn, be loud and get his attention or be quiet and get on his good side.

“___! grab your shit and let’s go!” jungkook shouts. he’s the guitarist and lead singer of the band; he gets impatient sometimes.

“oh just let her daydream for a little bit, she’s probably thinking about her hot neighbor,” seulgi teases. she’s the drummer and your best friend. you don’t let her comment pass so easily, but you try to ignore the way your face heats up.

“you think he’s hot?” you quip back. a smirk on your face as you zip your bass into it’s case. yoongi is surprised at the way he can hear your voices so clearly, he wonders if you guys always talk this loud or if the walls are really that thin. “you haven’t even seen him yet,” you lug your bag over your shoulder.

“he sounds hot.” she shrugs, taking a bite of the apple she stole from your fruit basket. jungkook grows more and more antsy the longer you both talk.

“where’s taehyung anyway?” you ask. the realization comes to you when you feel a missing presence, knowing your 4th member would say something about yoongi.

“how nice of you to finally ask, he’s been waiting in the car for you slow pokes, let’s get going.” jungkook rushes, pushing you and seulgi out of the door. you turn to lock the door when you hear the door to your left slide open.

“oh my god, jungkook look, he’s hot.” seulgi smacks jungkook’s shoulder to make him look. your eyes are glued on the figure standing outside of apartment 77.

“hi— hey, yoongi,” you greet him while locking your door. it’s embarrassing the way the three of you are all almost drooling at the sight of him.

“hi, ___,” he sends a small smile to you, looking over to your bandmates hesitantly. yoongi notices jungkook, an assumption is made in his head almost immediately, boyfriend?

you scramble next to them and introduce them, “yoongi, these are my bandmates, seulgi, she plays the drums, and jungkook, he plays guitar and sings, there’s taehyung too, he plays guitar too but he— he’s um, in the car.”

“ah, nice to meet you.” he nods, greeting them as well. “i actually have to get to work, but it was cool meeting you all,” he excuses himself. you all wave to him.

“way to be fucking awkward guys,” you scold them when you’re all walking to the car. taehyung looks up from his phone to see the three of you walking his way, he starts the car once you open the door.

“hey, not our fault he’s good looking,” jungkook shrugs and seulgi holds her hand up for a high five, which he gladly gives her.

“not fair! you guys got to see ___’s hot neighbor while i was stuck in the car? i knew i should have just came in,” taehyung grumbles, pulling out of the apartment complex’s parking lot.

“it just so happened that he was leaving his apartment the same time we were, maybe you’ll meet him too tae,” you rub his arm. a somewhat sarcastic tone in your voice. taehyung rolls his eyes, starting the drive to the studio.

the music in the car was overshadowed by taehyung and seulgi arguing about when you and yoongi would finally hook up. you had to remind them that he hasn’t even been here a month yet, and that you guys barely talk besides the small hellos and awkward run ins when you’re doing laundry. it seems to keep them quiet, taehyung parks in the lot and you all move into the studio, making your way to the practice room the owners thankfully let you use to rehearse.

a couple songs are played and you all vote for a break. taehyung and jungkook having a guitar battle, seulgi leaning back against the wall on her phone, and you, need to pee! you leave the room and use the bathroom as usual, but a familiar bleach blonde head turns the corner and starts to walk down the hallway towards you, the breath you’re holding turns into a gasp when you realize it’s him. “yoongi?! why are you here?”

he looks up from the ground, looking as surprised as you when he realizes you were talking to him, “i work here, why are you here? are you following me?” he grills, you scoff at the question.

“i’m with my band, we’re rehearsing,” you explain. he raises his eyebrows, you’re not sure what it means. “you don’t believe me?” you pose.

“it’s just a little suspicious,” he shrugs, yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing. he hopes his hint makes sense to you, he’s never really been good at flirting. a familiar feeling erupts in his stomach, one that people could call butterflies whenever he saw you. he really just wants to see you play, and to hear you sing, that’s what he wants the most.

“uh, i can bring you to them? i promise i’m here with my band,” you laugh, warmth spreading to your cheeks. there is no way in hell that you’re going to play in front of yoongi. you were confident sure, but your embarrassing crush on him will make your fingers shake when you try to press the strings down. it’ll be a shitshow!

“can i pee first?” his small laugh brings a smile to your face. boys pee fast, you’ve learned that over time, so yoongi doesn’t take long. you’re both walking back down the hallway, “your boyfriend isn’t angry that you’re with me?” the random question makes your steps stutter.

“i’m sorry, what? boyfriend?” your eyebrows are furrowed as you stare up at him, his face isn’t showing any sign of humor, he’s serious.

“you’re not dating one of your band mates? isn’t that how it usually goes?” his lips purse as you continue to walk to the room that your band is occupying, he’s so serious that it makes you laugh.

“oh my god, yoongi, i’m single as a pringle, they’re my best friends, our number one rule is to never date within the band, that’s how things get messy,” you explain. a weight is taken off of yoongi’s shoulders, it wasn’t his fault he thought of it; you’re beautiful and surrounded by people that probably want you as much as he does.

“oh,” he answers, you both turn the corner and approach the door, “good to know.” the door opens to your three members looking at the two of you with raised eyebrows.

“oh my god, it’s him,” seulgi points to yoongi with her drumstick. you wave your hand to signal her to put it down, ‘it’s rude!’ you mouth.

“are you yoongi?” taehyung asks, taking his guitar and putting it down on it’s stand. yoongi nods, holding his hand out to shake taehyung’s, which he doesn’t take. instead taehyung pulls him into a hug, yoongi doesn’t expect the sudden action of affection, his arms not knowing what to do. “it’s so nice to finally meet you! ___ talks about you a lot,” taehyung’s confession makes your face flush.

“taehyung! what the fuck!? i’ve talked about you like twice, yoongi, i swear,” you defend yourself, pushing taehyung off of him. you laugh awkwardly, yoongi shoots you both a gummy smile.

“nice to meet you, taehyung,” he completely ignores your defense. he finds it cute, your flustered face as you try to tell taehyung to shut up.

“anyways,” you huff. “yoongi thinks i followed him here, so i am showing proof that i’m actually here with you guys and not stalking him.”

your friends snort at the same time, “actually, yoongi, we have no idea who this girl is! i think she’s following you,” taehyung whisper-shouts, you smack his shoulder.

“no but really, ___ we were just gonna call it a day, seulgi said she has to go to a family dinner soon and taehyung said he was hungry,” jungkook speaks up. it’s then that you realize that their instruments were almost all packed. yoongi looks down at you, a small smile on his face once he realizes what they’re trying to do.

“i leave to pee for five minutes and you guys hatch a plan to ditch me?!” you cross your arms over your chest.

“well… we just told you, so, technically we didn’t ditch you, also i can’t drop you off, yoongi, you can drop her off, right?” taehyung smiles to him.

“i—“ yoongi starts but you cut him off with plans to scold your members. they knew exactly what they were doing and you weren’t having it.

“taehyung, you’re dropping me off, let’s not bother yoongi,” you move to pack your bass but yoongi shakes his head.

“i can drop you off,” he smiles.

“oh, see! perfect! thank you, yoongi.” taehyung grabs his hand and gives him a good shake, before you know it your members are out the door.

you sigh as you lift your case and sling it over your shoulder, “it’s okay, yoongi, i can walk.”

he rolls his eyes, “don’t be ridiculous, are you hungry? we can eat first.”

his hand is outstretched and you’re not sure what it means, does he want to hold your hand? but no, he’s asking for your bass, so he can hold it instead of you. you reject his offer, “i can hold it.”

“you’re really stubborn,” he notes. it makes you snort.

“you’re not into stubborn girls?” the joke slips from your mouth before you can think.

this is the perfect time, yoongi thinks. “if it’s you, maybe i’ll make an exception.”

you try your best not to show any type of reaction, but you can’t really ignore the way your heartbeat quickened. yoongi leads you to his car, putting your bass in the trunk as you get comfortable in the front seat. he follows you soon enough and is driving out of the studio parking lot.

“you don’t have to work?” you question. getting into the car of someone you barely know is quite risky of you, but he was your neighbor, and he was hot. that doesn’t give you a reason to trust him, though for some reason, you think you can rely on yoongi, it’s a gut feeling.

“technically i work all day, i’m on my own schedule, i basically spend the entire day in the studio,” he explains. his focus is on the road but from his peripheral he can see your body turned to him, and your eyes glued on him.

“workaholic?” you guessed, he smiles.

“you could say that.”

“that’s good then, i’m giving you a reason for a break!” you clap, your nervousness fading as you start to get comfy with yoongi.

a friendship blooms from that lucky, odd encounter that day.

you forgot how long it’s been since you officially met yoongi and spent the day with him, maybe two months? three months ago? you never kept track. but you do remember that things changed after that. the two of you so obviously flirting with each other whenever you had the chance. yoongi would offer you a ride to the studio, which you greedily took whenever he asked; because he was a cool guy to be with, and in all honesty you were trying to put the moves on him. you’re not sure if he’s taking the hints though, you’ve never been good at the shy type of flirting, most of the time you’re upfront.

speaking of being upfront: yoongi hasn’t really been complaining about your noise lately, and it’s been eerily quiet on his end. no knocks on the wall when your volume was a tad bit higher than usual, no texts telling you to ‘be quiet’ when you were practicing late at night, nothing. you figure it’s because the two of you have grown a lot closer. hanging out together and even making some inside jokes together type of close.

it’s soon that you figure out why yoongi hasn’t been upfront, complaining to you about your noise, because he talked to your apartment manager about it. you knew namjoon well, he was one of your classmates in college. his father originally owned the place, so he’s been taking over for him. you’ve grown close to namjoon due to situations that left you outside of your apartment multiple times without your keys. his master key saved your ass one too many times. so, when you received a letter from him in the mail this morning with a big red ‘important’ stamp on it. you knew you were in trouble.

the words noise complaints, your neighbor, and eviction were the only ones you needed to read for you to be stomping towards yoongi’s apartment. you didn’t care that it was ten in the morning and you’re banging on yoongi’s door. you knocked nonstop until he opened up. his sleepy face scrunched in confusion as he stood before you.

“___? what’s wrong?” his morning voice could have made you melt, if you weren’t so fucking angry. you step past him, moving inside his apartment. “okay, come in, i guess,” yoongi says as he shuts the door behind you.

“you complained about me?! i got a fucking letter from namjoon! he never sends letters!” you raise your voice. it’s too early in the morning to be yelling, your voice is a bit rough, it sounds like you’re croaking.

it’s also way too early for yoongi to be dealing with this, so his voice is soft when he says, “be quiet, we’re gonna get complaints from the other neighbors now too.” he walks up to you and your very angry expression. he just looks so kissable right now, it’s making you angrier. how could he look so perfect when you’re mad at him? that’s so rude!

you lower your voice when you ask, complying to his demand. you cross your arms over your chest, “why would you do that?”

yoongi laughs.

it makes your eyebrows furrow. was he not taking you seriously? you loved this apartment, you needed to live here. it makes the anger boil a little hotter. “you think this is funny, yoongi? i’ve—” your voice is raising once more.

this time yoongi rolls his eyes. “shut up.” his voice grew deeper than it already was, the bass traveling straight to your lower belly.

you try to act as if it had no effect on you, but your small silence before you spoke made things a little obvious. “excuse me? shut up?” you scoff. your feet carrying you closer to yoongi, breaking the distance in effort to intimidate. yoongi wasn’t one to be scared, if anything, he found it funnier.

but the way that your pretty face looks when you’re angry makes yoongi want to do more, wants to push and push because he can feel the tension between you both. you can too. “yeah, you’re so goddamn loud all the time, shut the fuck up.” he moves a little closer, the distance between you both is almost none.

it makes your eyes flicker to his lips. here you were, thinking that you were gonna teach yoongi a lesson, yet you want to kiss him. “want me to shut up?” your eyes move back to his, making eye contact. he licks his lips in anticipation. “make me,” you press.

you feel his soft hand against your cheek first, leading you to his lips. then it was the plush of his lips against yours. this feeling could definitely make you shut up. before you knew it, you were pushing yoongi over to his couch. he breaks the kiss to plop down onto the couch, you follow suit, straddling his lap.

“if you wanted to make out with me, you could have just asked.” you spoke before reattaching your lips.

he smiles into the kiss, “where’s the fun in that?”

the kiss deepens, tongues exploring each other’s mouths and small whimpers escaping your throat. they go straight to yoongi’s groin, you can feel his hard cock against your core through your sweatpants. instinctively, you grind down, the feeling makes him groan out.

his large hands move to your ass, running over them and trailing up to your waist. his hands sliding under your shirt, you know you aren’t wearing a bra, and yoongi finds out soon after. his thumbs running right over your hard nipples, “eager?” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “i’m just cold.” the lie makes yoongi scoff, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and index fingers. now, goosebumps raise over your skin, and it wasn’t because of the cold.

“take your shirt off,” he speaks against your lips. usually, you weren’t one to follow orders, your rebellious spirit screaming in your head, telling you to take control. but you’ve never wanted anything more than to let yoongi have you, let him do whatever he wants to you. because outside of this, he just seems so nice, never mean, never demanding. you can’t help but indulge in this new side of yoongi you’ve discovered.

so you’re taking your shirt off, the breeze created by his air conditioner makes you shiver, but yoongi's warm hands are there to comfort you. running them over your breasts, squeezing them just right as he kisses down your throat. “y-yoongi—” you whimper. his lips find a certain spot that has you grinding harder onto his dick.

“you aren’t very patient,” he speaks against your skin. “i’ll let it slide this time.” a tender kiss to your neck is placed before he lingers on the spot a little longer, sucking and licking, making sure to leave a pretty red mark. he makes his way to your nipple, wrapping his mouth around the bud and sucking. the feeling makes you throw your head back, his hand tweaks your other nipple, refusing to neglect it.

it was true, you were not patient. you hated waiting too long for something, just like how you hate the feeling of your warm core go uncared for. the grinding wasn’t enough at this point, you wanted more, needed it really. “are you gonna fuck me or not?” you push him gently off of your nipple.

an almost annoyed gaze is painted on his face, “are you going to beg?” he quirks an eyebrow.

you weren’t one to plead, “no.”

“then no,” he asserts. you purse your lips, complete dissatisfaction displayed on your face. “don’t worry, kitten, i’ll make you feel good.” yoongi gives in. he didn’t know how long he could hold back, your attitude makes him want to check you, make you cum as many times he wants you to until you’re obeying.

the nickname makes you drip. he’s pushing up from below, his leg kneeling onto the couch as he lays you down. your head lays against the pillow he has on the couch, yoongi gives you a swift kiss before he moves down, trailing kisses on the valley of your breasts and your stomach, stopping just before the waistband of your sweatpants. “yoongi,” you mewl.

“hm? wanna beg now?” he challenges. his fingers teasingly slipping under the band. your body reacts so easily to his touch, your hips slightly jerking up at the graze of his hands.

but you’re stubborn, not wanting to let yoongi win even though the only thing you want right now is for him to make you feel good. “no, never.” you shake your head.

yoongi doesn't verbally reply, instead, nodding and smirking to himself. “can i eat you out then?” he asks. you don’t trust your words, so you nod, knowing you’ll fall into the trap yoongi has set. “i need to hear you say it, kitten.”

“yes,” you quickly say.

yoongi quirks a brow. “yes, what?”

you roll your eyes, just once, you tell yourself. “yes, please.”

“good girl,” he praises. you hate to admit that you liked the way he called you a good girl. your sweatpants and panties are pulled down at the same time, revealing your wet pussy. “so pretty, baby.” he positions himself between your spread legs. you bite your bottom lip in anticipation.

kisses against your thighs and pubic bone are what he starts off with, then a brief kiss to your clit that makes you gasp. “oh, god—” you lean your head back against the couch.

“also, just to let you know, the letter was a joke,” yoongi breathes. mouth ghosting your lips, where you need him the most.

at first you didn’t pay attention to what he said, a hum leaving your lips until then you realized, “what?!”

“i thought it’d be funny to scare you a little bit, namjoon and i are friends, i asked him if he could do it for me.” he explains with a smile on his face.

you rolled your eyes. you knew it was too serious to be namjoon, his style was more so speaking, not letters. you couldn’t be mad at him, at least you weren’t in trouble. but you play it up for the fun, “will you make it up to me?” a sly look on your face.

“what do you want?” he leans his head against your thigh, waiting patiently for your answer. his fingers ever so gently running up and down your thighs.

“your cock,” you demand with a mischievous smile. your hands run through his hair, eyes pleading because you won’t allow your mouth to let the words out.

yoongi acts like he thinks about it, but all he truly wants, is to devour your and make you feel so good. “you don’t deserve it.” he denies you of the pleasure you want, but he surprises you, running his tongue along your slit.

“oh— oh, yoongi,” you mewl. your hands moving to play with your boobs, but yoongi knocks your hands away. he directs them to his hair, telling you to pull. his hands replace yours, playing and tweaking with your nipples as his tongue does the work.

“taste so good, baby.” yoongi loves the sight of you so vulnerable in front of him. you’re bare, naked while yoongi still has all his clothes on. he loves it. your eager body twitching from the ministrations of his tongue. he pulls away for a second, “don’t cum until i say so.”

“that’s not— umph!” you start but yoongi retracts his hands from your breasts, bringing them back to your thighs to spread them further apart. your lips reveal your sweet spot for yoongi to take, and he’s relentless. the taste of you on his tongue drives him crazy. “that’s not fair,” you moan out.

yoongi doesn’t care. he loves being in control. so when your phone starts to ring, yoongi thinks this is the best time to assert dominance. “answer it,” he commands. he pulls away from your pussy, the loss of the feeling of his tongue makes you groan out in displeasure. in turn, yoongi rubs his middle and ring fingers against your clit. it makes you gasp. he slips the fingers in, your walls pulsating against his fingers. another moan leaves your lips. you were completely ignoring the rings coming from your phone. he repeats himself, “answer the phone, baby.”

“but,” you spoke. your worry being that you were so wound up and yoongi’s fingers were still residing inside of you. you knew it would be way too obvious.

“they won’t know,” he assures. a gentle touch against your thigh comforting you, making you believe this was a good idea.

your fucked out brain obliges, your hand moving to reach for your phone. jungkook’s contact name displayed on the screen, you press the green button and place the phone next to your ear. “jungkook? what’s up?” you answer. yoongi’s eyes locked onto yours as you speak.

“speaker,” he mouths. you nod, mindlessly obliging. taking the phone away from your ear and pressing the speaker button. his fingers dangerously still in your pussy, ready to cause chaos whenever he felt like it.

“dude! guess fucking what!” jungkook shouts over the phone. yoongi pushes deeper, bottoming out his fingers. it makes your eyes roll back, a quiet gasp escaping your lips.

you’re moving the phone away so he doesn’t hear it, but yoongi is pushing your hand back into position. “what?” you cough, trying to cover the noise.

“you okay? you sound… weird.” jungkook snorts over the phone, you can hear seulgi and taehyung in the back, their bickering all too familiar.

“i— i’m good.” you nod even though he can’t see you.

“okay, well, this guy from a record label called earlier, he said he wants to take us all out to eat and talk about our future!” jungkook informs. your eyes widen. a record deal?! even yoongi reacts, a cute, surprised look on his face. how funny was it that you were receiving this news with yoongi’s fingers fucking you.

“you’re lying.” you sit up a little bit, leaning onto your forearm. yoongi decides to be nice, letting his fingers stay stagnant in your hole so you can enjoy the news.

“i’m serious! we’re on the way to yours right now to pick you up, be ready in five minutes,” he tells you.

“right now?!” you exclaim. yoongi smirks, starting to pumping his fingers in and out of you, making your breaths a little more labored. “oh— fuck,” you groaned, you tried to cover it up by making it sound like you were annoyed. but anyone could be able to tell what you were doing, the squelch of your pussy loud enough for the entire apartment complex to hear probably.

“what the hell are you—” jungkook starts but you cut him off, yoongi’s fingers moving faster and the string in your belly about to snap from the tension.

“okay, jungkook! bye! love you! see you in a bit!” you rush the words out and press the big red button to hang up, throwing your phone onto the floor as yoongi leans over you with a smile on his face.

“congratulations, baby.” he punctuates his sentence with a quick circle around your clit. you’re so wound up, you could feel tears starting to build up in your eyes.

“yoongi, please, please let me cum.” you beg, giving in to his desires. the sound of your begging is music to his ears. he smirks, quickening the tight circles around your clit. your legs spreading wider if that was even possible.

yoongi’s plans were cut short due to your new plans, but he didn’t mind. he was happy for you, and he’s never wanted to make someone cum as much as he does now. “alright, kitten, cum whenever you want,” he whispers in your ear. his fingers coated in your wetness gliding against your clit, it feels way too good. the string in your belly snapping as soon as he gave you permission.

you found yourself letting out some of the loudest moans because yoongi was just that good. “holy fuck, yoongi,” you gasp. your chest rises and falls quickly, taking in as many breaths as possible.

“good job, baby.” he kisses your neck, letting you recover before slipping his fingers out and bringing them up to your lips. at first you furrow your eyebrows, this isn’t something you usually do; but when he says, “open,” you find yourself obliging easily. “good girl,” he smiles as you suck your cum off of his fingers.

you pull his fingers from your mouth when you’re sure you’ve sucked them clean, “i got a record deal dinner, min!” you rush to put your clothes on. yoongi tries his best to help, but all he wants to do is give you a big hug. he lets you put your clothes on before he’s holding you in his grasp, while you’re trying to make your way to his door. the two of you wobbling to his door.

“let me kiss you first, rockstar.” he smiles, his hand gently taking ahold of your face and giving you a kiss. it tastes just like you, the sultry memory that will live in yoongi’s brain for as long as it’s able.

he tries to kiss you once more, but you’re pushing him away. “i gotta go, yoongi,” you giggle. his hands holding you close to him, your back pressed against his front door as you kiss each other sloppily. “yoongi!” you smile, more laughs erupting as he helps you open the door. as soon as the door slides open, yoongi’s eyes move behind you, a sly smile on his face.

you turn to see your three band mates, all of their mouths agape. “i fucking told you! pay up, idiots!” seulgi smacks the both taehyung and jungkook’s shoulders.

your face blushes tomato red. you try to hide your face as you open your apartment door. before you turn the key, you hear yoongi congratulate the four of you. “good luck at your label meeting! make sure they don’t scam you,” he advises. your bandmates laugh, thanking yoongi and moving into your apartment. they don’t let you live down the embarrassment for the entire night.

when you come back home, you sit on your couch. a smile taking over your face when you think about how great the day was. you think the dinner went perfect, and when you hear a knock on your door, it has you rushing to open it.

yoongi stands outside your door with a cupcake and a single lit candle stuck in it. “congratulations!— it went well right?”

you stand in front of him, a sweet smile on your face as you nod. “i think they loved us,” you pull him into your apartment.

“of course they did! you guys are amazing!” yoongi hugs you, holding the cupcake above your head so it doesn’t get in your hair.

the rest of the night you and yoongi enjoy each other’s presence and the two of you talk about everything and nothing.

yoongi says the cupcake is just for you, but you take a knife and split it, “for us.” you give him a quick peck before eating your half, and then kissing him once more.

for us. it repeats in yoongi’s mind.

us.

yeah, he’d like that.

538 notes · View notes

nanasparadise · 3 years ago

Text

“Imprisonment” Yan!Jolyne x female reader

This blog was in dire need of some wlw content. In that sense, I hope you had a happy pride month and enjoy this piece!

Summary: You are the target of many inmates in Green Dolphin. That changes when Jolyne becomes your cellmate, for the better or worse.

TW: toxic relationship, prison, bullying, violence, insults, threats, slight gore (ear mutilation), noncon kiss, allusions to NSFW, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

Word count: 2853

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

„Get your ass moving, girl!”

You truly hated it here. A day spent at Green Dolphin felt like being ten years in hell. The queue in the prison cafeteria moved forward quickly, since everyone got the same horrible food. As you hadn’t reacted fast enough, you’d received rude comments. At this point, you didn’t care about the insults anymore. You were used to them, you had no affiliation with anyone here, meaning the other inmates saw you as fair game. In addition to your nature as a pushover, you weren’t surprised to be the target of many prisoner’s sadistic streak.

You took your tray containing your lunch – a portion of rather questionable meat and some mashed potatoes – and went to your solitary table. A blissful sigh escaped your lips when you finally were alone in your corner. No, worse than any insults or solitude were the threats, hidden under fake smiles. Not a single day went without them. You always were forced to do ‘voluntary tasks’ for the designated mean girls of Green Dolphin or ‘lend’ them money. It was humiliating, really, but you didn’t want to end up beaten to death in your cell, so you followed their instructions.

Once you completed the laundry task, you decided to spend the rest of the afternoon in the library, hoping to find an interesting enough book to teleport you away for a couple hours from your harsh reality. You settled into the couch with a novel in your hands, enjoying this slight moment of calmness. Your peace was short-lived though as a blonde woman approached you, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. Oh no, you knew where this would go.

“Hi! How are you doing today?”, she greeted you with a fake happiness swinging in her tone.

“Fine”, you mumbled quietly, not being able to assert yourself.

“I’m glad to hear that!,” she replied, though you knew she didn’t give a shit about your well-being, “Look, I’m so sorry to bother you again, but could you give me ten dollars? I need them for something very important and you’ll get them back in no time!” She batted her eyelashes at you, seemingly coming across as innocent.

“I would, but I forgot the money in my cell”, you countered, trying to come up with an excuse.

“Then stand up and get it.” Her voice had already shifted into a menacing tone, eyes gleaming like a predator.

“I don’t know if I-“

“Y/N, that was your name, right? Well, if you don’t get me my money, our friendship will be ruined and you’re aware of the consequences of that, aren’t you?”, your fellow inmate replied while pulling you by the collar of your uniform up from the couch.

“Right…,” you whispered, accepting your defeat, “I’ll get it for you.”

“Awesome!,” the blonde chirped, all sunshine and rainbows again, “I’ll wait for you here, just don’t take too long.”

That was how your life went. You didn’t complain too much, you knew it could be way worse than that. And it wasn’t as if you had much of a choice to change it anyway. You weren’t going to be released from prison in the next twenty five years. “So just accept it and move on, day by day”, you mused, repeating that thought every day.

Your life took a turn, however, when a new inmate joined Green Dolphin. She was a young woman around your age, dark buns adorning her head and a green fringe framing her face. You had been spared from a cellmate, but that all changed now, as she was your new roomie. “Great,” you thought bitterly, “now my last bit of peace has been stolen from me.”

She introduced herself as Jolyne Kujo. Jolyne seemed to be still quite naïve when it came to prison life, claiming she’d been conned and that her lawyer would certainly take her out from there. “It’s time to face the fact that no one cares if you’re here for a valid reason or not, trust me, I know it from experience”, you thought, though you didn’t dare voice that to her.

She actually turned out to be nice. And with that, you meant that she respected your private space and didn’t threaten you. In exchange, you offered her some advice on who to avoid in jail, which the woman gladly accepted.

At first, the change was barely noticeable. Jolyne kept herself quiet except for the occasional small talk in your cell or during a shared task. Instead, she chose to lounge around two other inmates you hardly knew, one with dark braids and the other with a weird-looking green cap. You were glad to see that at least she formed a group, being able to protect herself now better from potential harassers if needed.

Of course you were still exposed to them. You made your way to the shower as a woman with broad muscles approached you, face turned into a dark grimace. By her build and expression, you’d first assumed she was a guard until you’d noticed the familiar uniform.

“You there!”, she shouted at you, a finger pointing menacingly at you as she came closer, “Give me your money, now!”

You cowered back into the corner of the shower room, panic flooding your system. “I’m sorry,” you stuttered, “I don’t have anything on me, I can give it to you after-“

“Don’t fucking play with me, bitch”, she brutely interjected, nostrils flaring up angrily due to exhaling. Your aggressor stood now in front of you, a strong hand wrapping itself around your throat and threatening to cut off your airflow. She yanked you up in the air as she continued her assault. “You think you can pick and choose? Does this place look like fucking Disneyland to you? You better give me my money now if you don’t wanna end up choking water and being beaten up like the dirty street mutt you are.” You were already flinching when the prisoner raised her fist to punch your face as a voice suddenly interrupted you.

“I think that’s enough”, Jolyne said in a firm tone, a fierce expression marking her face.

“And who the hell are you? Wanna join your little friend here?”, your tormentor commented, unimpressed by your cellmate’s entrance.

“Big words for someone who’ll soon be nothing but a bloody pulp”, Jolyne answered, not faltering under the inmate’s glare.

Your harasser proceeded to laugh out loud at her words, obviously not taking her seriously. She dropped you unceremoniously as she shifted all her attention to your saviour instead. Desperately, you panted for air, your hands moving to your hurting throat. You remained in your corner as you observed the scene unfolding in front of you.

“As if you weakling could do anything against me,” your tantaliser spit out, still chuckling at Jolyne’s words, “I’d kill you with my pinky finger.”

Jolyne remained strangely calm, choosing to smile at the threat. “We’ll see about that”, was the only thing she uttered before she lunged at her with incredible speed. Clearly, you weren’t the only one surprised as the inmate’s eyes widened as well. Jolyne turned the bully’s bewilderment into her advantage, her fist immediately connecting with the inmate’s nose. The latter let out a shrill scream, blood dripping out of her nostril. Clearly, she didn’t expect your roommate to do any real damage, let alone break her nose.

Jolyne shook the hand she punched her with, her knuckles reddened and slightly torn open from the assault. You kept staring at both of them, petrified and unsure about what to do now.

“I’ll kill you for that, you bitch,” your aggressor barked out angrily, “and your little friend will pay, too.”

You started trembling at the thought of her hand around your neck again.

“I’ll look for a guard, Jolyne”, you eventually said, the fear barely hidden in your voice. You decided this was enough and someone had to put an end to this.

“Stay here”, your cellmate replied authoritatively. For the first time, you were actually scared of her. “I’ll teach this woman that she needs to face consequences for her actions.”

With these words, Jolyne placed her fingers on your tormentor’s right ear. You wondered what she’d do next when a sudden yell disrupted your thoughts. The inmate’s cry was far worse than the previous one, emitting all of her pain and agony. You could hardly listen to it.

Then, with great horror, you finally noticed it. Her ear shell laid on the floor, blood coating the cut off organ. Your gaze travelled to Jolyne, waiting for an explanation to your unvoiced question, though she kept her eyes fixated on the prisoner’s pain-ridden face.

“You won’t touch Y/N or me ever again, did I make myself clear?”, she asked, her voice coated with barely concealed anger. Your bully only gave out a whimper, but the answer seemed to satisfy Jolyne. “Good. Now, if you see any guards, you keep our names out of your mouth, unless you want to lose another body part.”

The following weeks, Jolyne had become overly protective. She clung to you like a lost child, afraid that you’d be hurt or threatened again without her presence. You didn’t know if you should be grateful or terrified for her protection.

You’d asked her how she’d been able to cut that one prisoner’s ear off, but her explanation had been more confusing than enlightening. She’d talked about a Stand ability and how only so-called Stand users could see and wield it, but nothing made sense to you. You started to believe she’d just lost her mind.

Jolyne had also introduced you to her friend group. Ermes and Foo Fighters seemed nice enough, though they behaved in the same weird manner as your cellmate did. You felt awkward in their presence, not knowing why you were even there in the first place.

In the end, you decided to be thankful. With Jolyne and her friends by your side, no one bullied you anymore. And if your peace meant to spend some time with your cellmate, that was a small price to pay, right?

You didn’t notice the pair of chartreuse eyes observing every bit of your sleeping form. You never did.

Jolyne had been looking at you for many nights. This time, it wasn’t an exception. She tentatively brushed her hand over your cheek, marvelling at your slight reaction as you furrowed your brows at the touch.

“You’re really cute Y/N, do you know that?”, she whispered to you. Of course you were unable to answer.

Jolyne had been unusually shy around you. She was well aware of the fact that after her act of violence, you felt uncomfortable around her, possibly even scared. She tried so so hard to make you see that she was only protecting you! In fact, the young woman wondered how you could have even survived in Green Dolphin before her arrival.

She had a hard time picturing your life without her in it. At first, she’d been furious and crushed at the revelation that her ex-boyfriend had purposefully framed her for a crime she hadn’t committed. She had loved Romeo, so naturally, her heart had been broken.

But then, you entered her life. She saw now why she needed to be here. Who else could protect you, love you, like Jolyne? You were everything she had ever wanted.

Lovingly, she placed a small kiss on your cheek. You stirred slightly from the feathery peck. Nevertheless, you continued your slumber. Jolyne wished she could touch you more deliberately, more intensely. She’d grown tired of this little hiding game. The prisoner didn’t want to secretly let your brush run through her hair anymore, imagining it were your fingers instead or coo at you when you were sleeping. No, she wanted to feel you, to be touched and loved by you.

Sure, you might feel uncomfortable around her, but that was only because you didn’t see how much she cherished you. Maybe it was time to be bolder around you.

“Hey Y/N, could you give me my toothbrush, please?”

“Sure”, you replied casually as you handed the desired object over to her.

“Thanks, you truly are the sweetest.”

Your face heated up at her flirtatious tone. “She definitely didn’t mean it in that way”, you thought to calm your nerves.

“You still don’t want to join me showering? I’d hate for you to get attacked again”, your cellmate asked you, concern swinging in her voice.

“I’m good,” you mumbled, “I’ll just go next morning. And I doubt anyone’s gonna threaten me again after your lesson.” The thought of Jolyne mutilating another inmate terrified you, no matter how much your former aggressor deserved it.

“Come on, you’re just afraid to see me naked,” Jolyne teased while giving you a toothy grin, “it’s alright, you can tell me. I don’t mind.”

You didn’t think you could get more flustered. “That’s not it!”, you countered hastily, “I mean not that you're not a beautiful woman or anything, it’s just that…”

Jolyne stopped listening and straightened her back. You thought she was beautiful? Was this finally the moment she’d been waiting for? A dreamy expression marked her bright eyes.

“You think we could be a thing?”, Jolyne interjected your rambling.

“What?!”, you stuttered, unsure if you heard her correctly.

“I mean, I do really like you.” Suddenly, she stood up from her bed and moved over to you. You stared at her big-eyed, still not knowing what was going on. A hand came resting on your cheek as her gaze was locked on you. “Who am I kidding? I’m totally in love with you.” She softly traced her fingers over your skin, sending a chill down your spine.

“Jolyne”, you whispered quietly. You had no clue how to handle the situation, images of her brutal side flashing up in your mind again. You gulped harshly. “I didn’t know you felt this way, I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends,” the young woman retorted, “we could just be more, you know?” Jolyne leaned into you, closing the space between you, as her lips landed on yours. She kissed you with gentleness and care, as if you were made of glass. When you felt her teeth slightly tugging at your bottom lip, begging for more, you eventually snapped out of your surprise and pushed her away from you.

“What was that?”, you asked her out of breath, unable to conceal your anger.

“I’ve kissed you, silly.”

“I’ve just told you that I’m not interested in a relationship!”

Ah yes. That must have been when Jolyne had blended you out in favour of marvelling at your compliment.

“I think you should think about that again”, your cellmate replied, a dark edge manifesting in her voice.

“And why is that? Do you want to cut my ear off too?”, you asked, your iritateness making you feel reckless.

Jolyne huffed at your comment. She did that for you!

“At least you could be grateful for what I did,” she spit out, “but no, I’d never hurt you. I can’t guarantee the same thing about the other inmates though.”

You immediately caught onto the threat. Your anger easily transformed into fear again as you realised what impact your words had on the woman in front of you. When Jolyne noticed you wouldn’t counter, she put her hand on your body again, this time deciding to let it travel up and down your arm.

“If you keep saying mean things to me,” she said, her voice still sounding menacing despite her gentle hand movement, “I might just not talk to you anymore. Once the others see that we’re not hanging out anymore, they’ll just change their mind and choose you as their target again. And what do you do without my protection? You don’t want to be their punching bag again, do you, hm?”

“No”, you managed to utter silently, eyes cast onto the floor.

“Look sweetheart, I can make an exception for today. I’ll forget your behaviour and you reciprocate, right? Unless you want to go back to your initial position.”

“No!”, you answered a bit too fast, your eyes looking at her face again. You could only imagine what the inmate with the mutilated ear would do to you… “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Jolyne took hold of chin, ensuring that your eyes were still trained at her. Then, she kissed you again. Despite your feelings, you gave in, much to her pleasure. When she eventually removed her lips from yours, she shot you another love-struck gaze.

You knew your life in Green Dolphin had been shitty before Jolyne, but now you only felt what it meant to be truly imprisoned.

“I’m glad to hear that, honey,” the young woman said with a bedazzling smile on her face, “I’d suggest we finally take a shower, after all I can’t wait to see everything of my darling.”

Her grin gained a sinister note.

“And we’ll see how the night goes after that.”

#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #stone ocean #yandere jolyne #yandere jolyne x reader #yandere x reader #tw: yandere #tw: threats #tw: toxic relationship #tw: noncon kiss #tw: slight gore #tw: ear mutilation #tw: bullying #tw: prison #tw: insults #tw: violence #minors dni

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years ago

Note

Re; Ahsoka and Quinlan being the same age, now I'm picturing Ahsoka, Quinlan, and Rex eventually ending up in a weird sorta thruple where Quinlan comes in and out of the relationship but the door is kinda always open for him? And Rex spends a lot of mornings eyeing the tangle of orange and brown skin on the other side of the bed like he has no idea how he ended up here but he's (mostly) okay with that tbh

Context: Commander Buir in chronological order

YES okay so this is wild to me that people are invested in this but like half the time-travel fics with Ahsoka in the same age-group as Quinlan have me wondering if I should ship them. Let me just. Ho shit.

So, okay, I've explored a lot of possible dynamics but there's something really engaging about how Quinlan, trained as a Shadow before the Sith came back, could react to a War Padawan. Ahsoka isn't really infiltration material yet, she's very much a frontline fighter, but she's got a lot more experience with a kind of consistent dark atmosphere that most Jedi don't. They get exposed to plenty of dark stuff, sure, but not the kind of all-encompassing "this is my life for the last two years" thing that is usually reserved for the long-term field agents like Shadows and Watchmen.

The War Padawans, for all that they were supposed to be just normal Jedi Padawans, were living in the kind of consistently negative environment that's normally experienced by those Knighted Sentinels.

So Ahsoka, while still generally pretty young in these AUs, is a very odd kind of person to be around, because she's spunky and vivacious and snippy and affectionate and snarky and knows how to break every bone in your body from harrowing experience as the only thing standing between death and thousands of brothers.

And Quinlan, I imagine, really likes that about her. She gets it, and she's still an energetic and loving and trying to do her best to be a good person despite everything. He gravitates towards her and she... well, she's not blind. She can tell he's interested. And she's not upset about that.

ANYWAY, ONTO REX

So, Rex is... technically twelve. He hasn't exactly got a whole lot of experience with romance. He is also, up until the point of time-travel, legal property of the Senate and the Jedi Order, which means that Ahsoka, or at least her community, owns him. He was indoctrinated to serve her and that community. She also outranks him, for all that she usually lets him take the lead in the field due to experience. He's older than her physically and maturity-wise, but she's also had a grow-up-faster-than-you-should adolescence, and she has superpowers.

What I'm saying is, the power dynamic is fucked up.

(Unironically I spent hours last night realizing that it balances out a lot more than C*dywan does, which I'm censoring because by god do I not want discourse on this post. I like both ships, and don't want to argue about what's the most problematic. It's Star Wars. The only unproblematic ships are Bail/Breha and Owen/Beru.)

Here's the thing, though, because the main thing people seem to argue here is the age/maturity difference as a problem area:

The age difference in actual time is four years, which is smaller than the two main ships of the franchise (Han/Leia and Padme/Anakin, to be clear). The age difference in maturity is ??? We'll say that the clones started aging normally after they hit twenty, so the age difference in maturity is six years... which is still normal for SW ships.

(This is why I don't have any issues with the ship in a post-O66 context, once they've had a few years to move past the traumas and whatnot. The age stuff all evens out with time, they're a good team, and neither was grooming the other. It's not objectively any more problematic than most SW ships at that point, and I'm okay with that. They deserve to be happy if they want.)

But they get yanked away from all that structure of who owns what, who reports where, who has which rank, who's legally a person in the eyes of the Republic when they end up on Dagobah. Once they've registered when they are, the only remaining complications are:

He grew up in a cultlike environment and was indoctrinated to serve her (but has been replacing that indoctrination with genuine respect and affection for her as a person because they've worked together for two years).

She has superpowers (contextually not a big problem: we see several Force-Sensitive/Non-Sensitive ships that don't consider those powers a complicating element)

He's several years younger than her (canonically less of an issue than it could be: Cut got married and has kids) and has next to no experience with what a normal romance looks like except for hanging out on the edges of whatever the fuck his General has going on with the Senator

She's several years less mature than he is (...something of an issue)

So a lot of this is mostly okay. She feels weird about the fact that she's got more knowledge of romance and all that it entails. He feels weird about the fact that, despite her being older, he looks at her and sees someone that's still a little young, not quite a shiny. Except she is older than him, and he's seen her behead four people in a single move, and they've saved each other's lives more times than either of them can count anymore. He respects her, and the fact that she's babyfaced doesn't change the fact that, in terms of who they are as people and warriors, they're on a level playing field.

She still looks at him and mourns his lost childhood, and he still looks at her and takes a moment to see past the too-big eyes and adolescent proportions.

But they really, really care about each other, and maybe part of them is starting to recognize that there's a bit of a crush before they time-travel, but neither one wants to make a move. There's a lot of baggage on both sides, a lot of "but they're a child" and "but they're (literally vs functionally) below me in the chain of command, I can't take advantage of that" and all that fun stuff. It's the kind of situation where two people circle each other for ages without making a move, because actually making that move is terrifying on account of not knowing whether the other party knows they can say no, on top of the usual "what if it ruins our friendship?" thing.

What happens on Dagobah, though... is very tropey. They're sort of stranded until Ahsoka can fix the ship, and that takes time. The area is also very heavy with the Force, dense and heady with the energy it carries, and it's... actually really not great for Ahsoka. She keeps feeling like she's back on Mortis, and has nightmares from the trigger there, but also keeps hallucinating because she wasn't ready for the thickness of the energy (like Yoda) or still new enough to the Force that she couldn't feel how dense it all was (like Luke). She can't work on the engines as constantly as she'd like to get them out of there, and while Rex is a competent mechanic, he's not as skilled with it as the girl who jumped headfirst into lessons with Anakin.

Rex spends a lot of time holding Ahsoka and wiping her brow with a wet cloth while she's feverish and out of it. Yes we're going full Florence Nightingale romance here, let me have my fun.

They get the communications relay working earlier than the engine, find out the year is wrong, panic a bit. All is well. (It's not, but they're holding it together for now.)

Ahsoka keeps working on the engine when she's lucid. Rex keeps hunting up game and edible plants for them while she does. They cuddle at night, because it's not cold but it is empty of the people they care about, and they kind of want that reassurance of someone they trust and love at their back.

(Morai visits.)

(Daughter shows up in the nightmares, tells Ahsoka that age will not come for her beloved until the time is natural for it. The phrasing is dumb but she does manage to convey that the accelerated aging is no longer an issue, if it even was after they hit adulthood. Ahsoka is relieved.)

And, you know, emotions happen. She takes his hand while they're leaning up against each other. He kisses her forehead while she's having a bad spell. They cook together and tell jokes to keep sane and spar. They hug each other through nightmares and panic attacks. There is much blushing. There is much cuddling.

Once, they kiss.

They break apart, flushing and stammering and being very awkward about the whole thing, and make excuses to leave and panic about the fact that they!! Kissed!!!!!

A couple hours later they find each other again, and have a long and complicated discussion about why they like each other (war makes bedfellows, there's trust and affection and all that fun stuff) and why they're hesitant (age stuff, maturity stuff, prior indoctrination), and make the decision to take it slow. They cuddle, and kiss, and blush a lot because both of them are basically just dumb teens having their first real relationship.

They eventually leave the planet, make it to Coruscant, etc. It takes a bit for anyone except Obi-Wan to realize that something's changed between them. Most people didn't know them before, and Anakin's observation skills are currently at a very low ebb. But they sit together and hold hands, and flirt when they spar, and once or twice people find them kissing (both standard and Keldabe) in a corner while holding hands and then just smiling at each other like loons.

They end up rooming together because nobody has the heart to separate them after hearing about all the war stuff. Like yes attachment's bad, but these two do seem to understand loss of loved ones and recognize that they could lose each other at any time and death is natural and they won't lose their entire shit about it, and if even General Kenobi is anxious as hell about being separated from the people he fought side-by-side with for two years, then maybe it's just... really normal for those two to want each other's company, and everyone can just turn a blind eye to the romance happening.

They share a bed, but they only ever sleep in it. Like, there's some goodnight kisses and cuddles, but everything is very G-rated until they've had time to settle into being true equals instead of just the "well, I guess the power dynamics balance out? Maybe?" of before.

And just... yeah. Rex does not believe that he's in this good of a position whenever he has the time to think about it. He's got a girlfriend! A really pretty, smart, strong, skilled one! Who thinks he's a cool dude! How the fuck did a clone like him manage that? He wasn't even legally a person a year ago, how did he end up in bed with one of the most amazing people he's ever met? He spends multiple nights just staring at her while he tries to fall asleep, asking himself how he got here and just like... marveling at her. She's worth marveling at. He's in love and she's amazing and he has no idea how to handle it at all.

...yeah no I have a lot of feelings now.

#Rexsoka #Ahsoka Tano #Captain Rex #Quinlan Vos #time travel #Commander Buir #Phoenix Posts

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titan-fodder · 4 years ago

Text

Prima Vista Part III

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader

Warnings: a lot of feelings, handcuffs, testosterone, quite a bit of sex, one surprise kiss (cause Erwin is a privileged dick), parents, domesticity A/N: I apparently did not write an author’s note for this originally, but uh, this is one of my favorite sections of the whole fic, so.

Mike uses the rest of the break to relax, to get his head on straight so that when he gets back on campus he won’t be overbearing. He knows that’s the last thing you want from him.

You text back and forth a few times a day, but most of it is dumb shit, and the conversation dies off pretty quickly—either Mike not knowing how to respond or you just growing bored.

He busies himself by spending time with his parents and playing with Scout who eats up all the attention. Family comes over for Christmas, and his mom and aunt get into an argument. It’s nothing new.

He’s happy to get back to the school and back in classes just to stimulate his brain. More than that, he’s happy to see you again. Even if it means the two of you go back to friend-only status.

Things are awkward between him and Erwin, though. It isn’t the first time they’ve had a hiccup in their friendship, but this one has really rubbed Mike the wrong way. Erwin tries to apologize a few more times, but every time he does, all Mike can manage is an unconvincing, “It’s fine,” which the other man obviously doesn’t buy.

He tries not to be possessive when you start coming to the house again, but it’s fucking hard whenever he has to watch you and Erwin talk and joke around. Mike figured you’d be at least a little annoyed that he’d just walked in on the two of you like that, but you act like it never happened.

Eventually, Mike has to ask about it, just can’t help himself. “Aren’t you, like, even a little mad that he did that? Don’t you think it was fucked up?”

You’re sitting on Mike’s bed, a controller in your hand as you play Mario Kart, sound a little distracted when you respond, “I mean, yeah, it was fucked up, but I never really expected anything more from him.”

“What do you mean?”

You look at him from the corner of your eyes before staring at the screen again. “Erwin is a cocky motherfucker. I’ve seen the way he gets the girls on campus, probably thinks he can charm all of them which means he probably thinks he’s entitled to all of them. Us.”

“Are you calling him a predator?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think he’d ever, like, rape anyone. He at least has enough class and common sense not to do that. But I think… He doesn’t care who he goes after. Single girls, girls in relationships, happy girls, damaged girls. He just has a one track mind when it comes to sex. That’s what I’ve gathered anyway.”

Laying back on his bed, Mike laces his fingers behind his head and thinks on what you’ve said. “That just sounds like a drawn out way of saying he’s a flirt.”

“A massive flirt. Without any real care about whose feelings he hurts in the process.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I don’t appreciate it,” you sigh, “But he’s your best friend, so I’m willing to put up with some shit from him.”

“Even him perving on you?”

“Not the first time it’s happened to me, probably won’t be the last. He’s curious, I can tell.”

Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he is.”

You stay quiet for several seconds, toggling over to another track on the game, then ask, “That make you uncomfortable?”

Blinking up at the ceiling, Mike wonders what the right answer to this is. He doesn’t want to scare you away, but he doubts he’ll be able to act as aloof as you do.

“A little.”

You hum, nodding in a thoughtful manner before suggesting, “I think we can keep hooking up through this semester.”

Mike sits up on his elbow, looks at you with high eyebrows. “Wait, really?” He sounds too excited, he knows.

“Yeah. I have mostly easy classes, or really, I have interesting ones which makes studying for them easier. Plus, it might teach Erwin a lesson.”

He falls back flat, scoffing. “I don’t want you to fuck me to prove a point to Erwin. I want you to fuck me because you want to.”

The game music stops when you pause it, and then you’re straddling Mike, hands on his chest as you smirk at him.

“Don’t let this go to your head, Zacharias, but no one has ever fucked me the way you do.”

Mike tries not to grin, triumph blooming inside of him, and he grips your hips a little too tightly. “Oh, that’s definitely going to my head.”

You grind your covered pussy over his denim-clad cock, and Mike feels all his blood flow south.

Laughing, you lean down to ghost your lips over his and murmur, “Both heads, apparently.”

That day, the two of you start a routine that leaves Mike falling harder and harder with every passing day.

“Come on, please just be my date,” Mike begs, thinks about getting to his knees if it’ll help convince you.

“Why?” You ask, looking up from your textbook.

You and Mike are sitting in the library—you studying, him bothering you. “I’m honestly so tired of parties at this point.

“It’s not like the big parties we throw, though,” he tells you. “It’s just the brothers and their girlfriends.”

“That makes it even worse,” you push one little laugh through your nose. “What makes you think I wanna spend an entire night with a bunch of frat boys and their matching sorority girls?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “They’re not all sorority girls, just like, eighty-five percent of them.”

Your head lolls, an expression that reads nothing but apathy aimed at Mike, and he gives you a hopeful smile and adds, “On the bright side, we get to stay together all night…?”

“Oh god, it's a cuff party, isn't it?"

All he can do at this point is beg because the more he explains it, the more he realizes how not appealing this is to you. “Please.”

Sitting back in your chair, you cross your arms over your chest and puff your cheeks out as you exhale heavily. “What’s in it for me?”

Fuck yes. Half the battle is won.

“Uhh,” obviously sex is the first thing that comes to Mike’s mind, so the first offer he makes is, “I’ll go down on you ‘til you cry.”

You snort. “Try again.”

“Fuck you ‘til you pass out?”

“Jesus—why do you want to hurt me? Try again. Third time’s a charm.”

Mike brainstorms for a solid thirty seconds, thinks about what you’ve mentioned to him over the past couple of weeks, sex and school and—

“I’ll help you study for your geochemistry exam.”

You finally look interested. “I’d actually really appreciate that. You took the course?”

“Yeah, environmental geochemistry was sort of my jam last year. Final grade was a ninety-seven.”

“Holy shit.”

Mike shoots you a satisfied smile, but before you can tell him to wipe it from his face, he asks, “So, you’re in?”

“I guess.”

This is how you both end up in the frat house handcuffed together. No one seems to be surprised at the fact that you’ve come with him, all the brothers used to you hanging around the frat house.

Most couples are walking around holding hands just because it takes some of the pressure off of everyone's wrists, but Mike doesn't dare try it with you. Too cute. Too comfortable.

These types of get togethers are Mike's favorite, though, always more relaxed than the open parties. There’s still drinking and music, but the energy is different since it’s a tighter knit group.

It takes about an hour for Erwin and his date to approach the two of you, fingers laced together, drinks in their free hands.

“Looking good,” Erwin greets with a smile. "Very… trapped."

“Yeah, you too,” Mike says, trying to ignore the subtext of Erwin's comment.

Blue eyes flick to you, and you’re questioned, “How’d he end up talking you into this?”

You don’t miss a beat as you reply cooly, “Bribed me with sex and study help.”

“Ah, of course he did.”

Mike’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything, just reaches his pinky out to link with yours, a subtle claim. When you rest your head on his arm, he looks down at you and smirks.

“Anyway,” Erwin pushes on. “You remember Maddie, don’t you?”

Mike lies, “Yeah. How are you?”

The girl’s voice reminds him of who she is, “Well. How are you, Mike?” It’s a little high pitched and nasally with a northern accent. He especially remembers what she sounded like moaning for Erwin through the wall, obnoxious but Mike can’t really judge since he’s subjected the rest of the house to the same thing once or twice (or a dozen times) before.

“Glad to hear it.”

The group stands together for a few more awkward seconds before Erwin clears his throat and asks his date, “Another drink?” then makes his exit.

“You have got to get over this grudge, dude,” you take your head from his shoulder, and Mike immediately misses the warmth. “Like, it’s cute that you’re trying to defend my honor or whatever, but it’s time to move on. You guys are friends. Just talk it out.”

He sucks his teeth, almost tells you about the way he and Erwin had nearly thrown punches at the ranch house, the way the blond had basically admitted to wanting to try you out, but Mike decides against it, doesn’t want to talk too much shit only to end up making up with him.

“Guys don’t really talk it out. We usually fight it out.”

“That’s fucking primitive. You should learn to communicate like mature humans.”

“Probably,” Mike hums. “But not right now.”

Being connected to each other means every activity is a partner activity. The most interesting is playing beer pong against Nile and his on-again off-again girlfriend, Marie, house rule for the night being whoever is throwing has to use their cuffed hand. It’s like a twisted three-legged race and requires an amount of teamwork and coordination Mike has never had to deal with before.

It’s also the first time he manages to beat Nile. Mike had no doubt that the other man would have crushed you by himself, but it turns out the actual couple does not work together very well. All their shots are clumsy, and Nile gets frustrated right off the bat which only makes things worse. Meanwhile, you and Mike come up with a strategy after the first terrible throw and use it for the rest of the game.

You’re both challenged by a few other teams and end up winning every time which has Mike feeling smug about the victories and giddy at how in-tune the two of you are. Gelgar even tells you both, “You guys are good together,” which makes Mike cough as you wave him off.

You drink a little more, converse a little more, and then—as always—end up in Mike’s bedroom.

“You want me to get the key and take these off?” He asks between kisses.

You smile into him, let out a little laugh and play, “You don’t think it’d be kinda fun to fuck with ‘em on?”

“It’ll be harder,” Mike snorts. “But, we can. Won’t be able to take shirts off, though.”

“Good thing we just need to take our pants off.”

It’s clumsy and silly, and you both tug in opposite directions more than a few times. Mike laces his fingers with yours when he goes down on you, relishing in the way you arch off his bed and squeeze his hand. On the floor, you give him head in the same fashion, and fuck, Mike can hardly focus on you sucking him off while your fingers are woven together, even if it is just for the sake of convenience.

He fucks you from behind that night, your face buried in his pillow as he’s buried in you. Both of your arms are stretched behind your back, held at the wrists by Mike’s much, much larger hand. He uses his free one to grip your hip, pushing and pulling you on his cock to his heart’s desire.

You’re so pretty, damp with sweat and moaning his name when your head is turned only to shove it back into his pillow when he makes you scream. Your dripping cunt opens up for him perfectly, making Mike feel more inebriated than alcohol ever could, but as his balls tighten and that warmth spreads in his gut, he has a single moment of clarity, assess the position he has you in and pants, “Shit, I can’t pull out.” Not without ripping your god damn arm out of socket or fracturing his dick.

“Mmm—fuck, just come inside, come inside me, Mike.”

That alone makes him lose it, shooting a fucking copious amount of cum into your pussy, so much that it drips from your hole and runs down your thighs.

“Fucking C-Christ,” he laughs a little hysterically, gathering thick white and slipping it back inside you. Transfixed by the way his added finger pushes more of his cum out of you, he asks in a daze, “You on birth control?”

“Yeah,” you answer in a breathy voice.

Mike hums. “Good. Just gonna sit here for a while then.”

You let out a whimper that turns to a whine when he rubs his slick finger over your clit. Twitching around him, you tease, “F-finger painting again?”

He chuckles, “You know it.”

Honestly, if he could cover you in cum, he would—admire your body painted in white strings, watch it drip down your ribs and thighs. If Mike hadn’t just gotten off, he would be hard again at the mere thought, but for now his focus is rubbing your little clit. Still face down, you spread your legs more and more, and Mike has to curl over you, breathing heavily on your neck as you wriggle and buck, overstimulating him as he keeps his cock nestled inside of you.

He groans just as loud as you do as you start pulsing around him, pussy clenching in a way that actually pulls a few more drops of cum from Mike, then you both pant for a little while until Mike straightens up and pulls you with him, your back to his chest as you hang your head.

“You good?” He questions, brushing his lips over your neck as lightly as possible.

“Yeah,” you tell him. “Just… Full.”

Mike’s body heats all over again as he rests his forehead on your uppermost vertebrae. “Can’t just say stuff like that,” he warns, sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

“Hmm.” He can see the little smile on your face without even looking up. “You did offer to fuck me until I pass out.”

“I have a refractory period, you know.”

You glance over your shoulder, and now Mike gets a good look at your smirk and twinkling eyes. “I can wait.”

Both of you emerge from the room in the early hours of the morning, still stuck together as you quietly make your way downstairs to find the key to the handcuffs. You’re wearing a pair of Mike’s gym shorts, the mesh falling far past your knees and barely staying up around your waist. He knows you’re still messy and can tell by the way you’re walking that you’re sore, but he has every intention of cleaning you up and taking care of all your aches and pains in the shower.

It’s party after god damn party with classes and studying and fucking in between. You have never had this much sex in your life, but you’re not complaining. It takes the edge off, and Mike isn’t the worst company. Far from it, actually. The more you get to know him, the more he falls into what you think is his real personality.

The brash frat boy is a front, you come to find out, a mask to fit in with everyone else, one he wears very well.

But, when it’s just the two of you in his room playing video games or watching TV, he actually relaxes, gets quieter and much more reflective. The pastels and khakis and Hawaiian shirts stay hung up in his closet, both of you lounging in t-shirts and joggers more often than not.

He more or less tutors you in geochemistry, and between that and all the nerd shit in his room, you realize… Mike is kind of extremely smart. And, it’s kind of extremely hot.

“I still don’t understand why you hide it,” you tell him one afternoon as you watch him play Ocarina of Time.

He shrugs, green eyes wide and focused on the screen, gives you the same answer he did last semester when you’d asked a similar question: “People are more interested in other things.”

“So you adopted the obnoxious frat boy persona?”

“I guess. It makes the college experience a lot easier.”

You cock your head to the side, genuinely curious when you ask, “Doesn’t it wear you out? Seems like you’re just an introvert in hiding.”

Mike laughs, pauses the game, and looks at you. “It used to. Some days it still does. But, it’s easier than taking shit from the guys.”

Squinting at him, you mumble, “I will beat up anyone who gives you shit about being a nerd.”

It makes him laugh. Loudly. And, you see a certain curiosity glimmering in his eyes, unasked questions—probably something along the lines of when you started caring and getting protective over him.

You’re not. Not exactly. You just don’t like the idea of anyone giving him a hard time.

“No offense, babe, but I don’t know how much damage you could inflict on anyone. You’re, like, two feet tall.”

You straighten up, chest puffing up as you pull your fists up to your chin and rock back and forth like a Street Fighter character. “You wanna fuckin’ go, Zacharias? I’ll show you how much damage I can inflict.”

He grins in that boyish way that always makes you look away. It’s too cute and too charming and makes you feel too many things.

Mike hangs his long legs over the side of the bed and pulls you on top of him with no problem whatsoever. You’re eye level with him now, heart beating too fast as you hold his shoulders, eyes flicking to his lips.

“We can go if you want. We can do whatever you want.”

He has feelings for you. You know he does, can see it in his eyes, can feel it in the way he fucks you, and you really should cut things off, but… You don’t want to. He’s the most tolerable person you’ve met on campus, much less annoying than Hitch. You have things in common and joke around until you’re both rolling in laughter. And, of course, the sex is incredible.

It’s just casual, you keep telling yourself. Mike is smart enough not to push things. He knows better, knows you’ll just turn him down, and though it’s hard to admit, that wouldn’t just hurt him; it’d hurt you too.

In his lap now, you don’t encourage him to take things further, mostly because you’re still sore from the night before, and he understands that. Instead, you lock your arms around his neck and change the subject to something that’s still bothering you even after several weeks.

“Have you and Erwin made up yet?”

Mike makes a face, answers, “Not exactly.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“It means we’re talking a little more, but it’s always short conversations and the problem still hasn’t been addressed.”

You let out a little, “Ugh,” then state, “You guys are impossible.”

It really doesn’t make sense that he’s so upset about it, especially since you’ve gotten over it. It was a shitty thing for Erwin to do—walking in like that—but you don’t think it’s anything to end a friendship over.

And, with that thought in mind, you spend the rest of the afternoon devising a plan. It’s not in your nature to meddle, but it seems, in this case, you’re gonna have to.

Mike is in his fancy ecology class when you walk into the Pike house, nodding at everyone in the den as you step further inside. You learned a few months ago that it’s much safer to keep your shoes on, less jarring to step on a sticky floor the first years didn’t do a good job cleaning.

Nile is reclining sideways on the couch with Marie between his legs, an action movie playing on the ridiculously big TV mounted on the wall.

“Is Erwin here?” You ask.

Nile looks at you with a frown, one that’s completely warranted since you’ve literally never asked this before.

“Uh, yeah.” He points up at the ceiling. “In his room.”

“Cool, thanks.”

“You know which one it is?”

Squeezing one eye shut, you’re honest when you tell him, “I think so.”

The way Marie is quick to pipe up, “Second furthest to the left, right next to the bathroom,” is very amusing, especially when Nile clicks his tongue, clearly irritated.

You make your way upstairs, following Marie’s directions, then take a deep breath before knocking on Erwin’s door, clueless as to what his lock code might be.

It takes a few seconds, but the door opens, revealing a very tired-looking Erwin. His eyes widen a bit when he sees you, craning his neck back like he’s shocked that you’re standing outside of his room. That’s fair.

“Uh, hey?”

“Hey,” you greet shortly. “Can we talk for a sec?”

Erwin blinks a few times then steps to the side, murmuring, “Yeah, of course.”

His space is very different from Mike’s, more organized, framed pictures, bed completely made. Even his desk is clean, papers and books all stacked neatly on one side of his open laptop.

“Studying?” You question.

“Yeah. Would you like to sit down?” His voice is deep—not as deep as Mike’s—and always so proper, like he spent his childhood in country clubs (he did).

“Not really,” you answer without any hesitation.

Unsurprisingly, Erwin leans against his desk instead of taking a seat himself, arms on either side, fingers hanging off the edge of the polished wood. It makes the muscles in his forearms become more prominent, veins popping against his skin. You have to give it to him, it’s a good move.

“So, what’s going on?”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you recall what you planned to say—cut to the chase, stay firm, don’t get caught up in any of his tricks.

“You need to make up with Mike.”

Erwin immediately snorts. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”

“Half-assed apologies aren’t gonna work, dude. Actually sit down with him and hash things out.”

“Yeeeah,” he drawls. “That didn’t work very well the first time.”

“Maybe try again? You guys are, like, best friends.”

“Levi is my best friend,” Erwin corrects, “And, I’m pretty sure that you’re Mike’s at this point.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” he smirks.

You wave him off, getting back to your original point. “At the very least, you guys should make up just because you have to live in the same house.”

Erwin crosses his arms over his chest, blue eyes deviating upward as if he’s thinking hard. You doubt he is.

“So, you’re not mad about what happened?” He asks after a few seconds.

You're blunt when you respond, “It was a shitty thing to do. Wouldn’t advise trying it with anyone else, but honestly, I’m not super surprised you’d pull something like that.”

His facial expression turns to one of true offense, blond eyebrows furrowing enough for a little wrinkle to form between them. “Excuse me?”

You take a step toward him, almost jab a finger in his chest but resist. “No no no. You don’t get to be pissed. You’re the one who fucked up here. I’m just telling you the truth.”

Eyes narrowing, he pushes himself off the desk, standing to his full height to loom over you. It’s obviously an intimidation tactic, one he’s probably used before on many people, and it makes your blood boil.

In a futile attempt to make yourself look bigger, you straighten your spine and tilt your head to look up at him, lips pursed, eyes narrow. You remember what Mike said about you being too small to hurt anyone, but you can be scrappy. You’re not above slapping a face or kneeing someone in the balls.

Erwin peers down at you, jaw setting for a moment as he really studies you, then breaks into an infuriating smile.

“You’re cute, you know that?” He moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you swat his hand away.

“Jesus, what is wrong with you?”

This close to him, seeing the way he acts behind closed doors, you wonder how Mike ever even got close with him. They’re so incredibly different. For the last semester and a half, you've only known Erwin as Mike's somewhat obnoxious, spoiled friend. Now, it seems he's showing his true colors.

“Nothing’s wrong. In fact, I’m feeling pretty great right now.”

Oh, you wanna hit him. You wanna hit him so badly, but honestly, Erwin kind of seems like the type to call the fucking police if you did.

“You don’t have any reason whatsoever to be feeling good.”

He’s still grinning, eyes bright and wide as his pupils dilate.

Are you calling him a predator?

He sure looks like one now, a lion with his sights set on an antelope, and as you stare at him, it dawns on you that this was a bad idea.

“You know what? Nevermind,” you shake your head. “You don’t deserve to be Mike’s friend anyway.”

The laugh that pours from his lips is not at all humorous. His voice drops when he challenges, “You think so?”

You need to leave, need to get out of here before this argument goes any further, but as you make a move toward the closed door, he slides in front of you. You shouldn’t have walked so far into his room.

“Erwin,” you grit through your teeth. “Don’t do this.”

“Just tell me—because I need to know—” he breathes, still staring down at you with that unnerving gaze. “What does Mike have that you like so much?”

Both your hands flex by your sides. There are so many ways to answer this question, all of which will evoke a different response.

But being who you are, you speak before you think, spitting the first thing that comes to mind: "You want me to make you a list, Smith? 'Cause I sure fucking can."

He makes a little circle with his hand, a 'go on' motion, and prompts, "Please, enlighten me."

And, so you do.

"Warmth, sincerity, class, depth, understanding—"

"So, it isn't just about the sex," he cuts you off, sounding more sure than curious.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, tired of these god damn frat boys and their obsession with getting their dicks wet.

"I mean, it started out that way—not that it's any of your business."

"I can give you more, you know. Satisfy you better—"

"Please shut the fuck up," you beg, getting madder by the second. The confidence, the entitlement, is making you sick.

"You don't believe me?" He steps toward you again, and you back up.

"No, I don't." Because how could he? Whether it's stimulating conversation or sex, there's no way Erwin could compare.

And now you realize just how much you appreciate Mike.

Erwin is closing the distance between you, moving slowly but purposefully. "This is how it started with you and him, right? You made him chase you?"

"Get out of my way," you demand, trying to shoulder past him—

And, you should have seen it coming, should have been prepared for the way he grabs you, strong hand closing around your upper arm to pull you to his body. Thick fingers tangle in your hair to pull your head back, face tilted up, and all you can really do is shove at his chest with your free hand, growling in your throat as Erwin crushes his lips against yours.

Adrenaline courses through your body. You try to shake the hand on your head, try to jerk your arm from his grip, but he's too fucking strong, and it terrifies you.

Your voice is muffled as you plead, "Er—mmf—shtp—"

You lift your hand higher and manage to hit him just beside his eye with the side of your palm, and it makes him break the "kiss" (you refuse to actually call it that).

He breathes a heavy, "Just let me—"

"No." You push his chest again, and he lets go of your arm. Quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you tell him, "You're a shitty friend and a little fucked in the head, but you're not low enough to force yourself on someone," you pant, shaking with nerves and rage, "So don't."

Hopefully, you're not giving him too much credit. Despite the overflowing fury and fear, you still think there's a little hope for him. Not with you, of course, just in general.

He stares at you, expression changing from confusion to understanding to regret, and before you know it, he's scrubbing his hands down his face and muttering, "Fuck, I'm sorry. You're right I—I got carried away. I've been jealous of Mike and curious and—"

"Why?" You blurt because you do not get it. "Both of you are, like, top athletes and in a fraternity, could get literally anyone you wanted, so what is it? Is it because I'm a nobody? Because you're bored of the sorority girls? Am I the one chick on your list you haven't screwed?"

"I… I don't know. You just—"

"Is it because Mike has a toy he doesn't wanna share?"

"Maybe." Erwin is frowning again, like he's stumped. He doesn't even know what he's feeling. It's honestly a little pathetic.

"Well, pick someone else. I know you have Maddie wrapped around your finger, so take advantage of that or whatever. Just leave me out of it."

Ocean eyes are wide and troubled. He really does look remorseful, but that doesn't change what he just fucking did. God, you're disgusted. And a little hurt.

"Don't ever try that shit on me again—or anyone else—'cause I swear to God, I will break your fucking nose."

"Yeah, okay," he nods.

You go to walk past him again, voice loud and unforgiving when you tell him, "Move," and then you're out of his room, slamming the door, and getting as far from Pike house as possible.

That did not go the way you had planned it to, but you should have been ready for the worst case scenario. That's on you, you guess.

Because Erwin Smith may not be a predator by definition, but he's certainly something—something you want to stay away from.

"Why are you acting weird?" Mike's voice pulls you from your empty head, and you take your eyes off the loose string of your hoodie—his hoodie—and look up at him.

"What are you talking about? 'm not acting weird."

He moves from his place at the edge of his bed and crawls to prop himself up next to you on his pillows.

"Uh, yeah you are. Have been for the past week or so."

He isn't wrong. You've kept to yourself a little more since your "conversation" with Erwin. It had just been so uncomfortable and jarring, and you don't want to tell Mike because you know he'll just get pissed all over again which would be very annoying since he and Erwin finally made up. Just like you wanted them to.

Except now you know Erwin a little better, and you're not sure you want him having any more influence over Mike.

Rubbing your face, you shrug and easily lie, "I've just been tired."

And, of course, Mike is too smart for that.

"Tired? That's the go-to answer for anyone who actually feels shitty."

"I mean, yeah, but I'm actually tired in this case." It isn't a complete lie considering how fucking late he kept you up last night.

Mike hums. "Wanna take a nap before the party?"

The acid in your stomach churns. The party. The one you do not have any desire to go to. The one that will push you over the ledge of annoyance and into the realm of genuine discomfort. You don't want to go. You don't want to hang out. You don't want to see Erwin.

Sliding your legs under the covers, you lay down in Mike's bed, turning on your side so that your back is facing him. You've told him on numerous occasions that you don't have any interest in certain events, but he always talks you into going to them anyway. So, what'll be different this time? You're just gonna end up downstairs huddled in a corner refusing to drink as your eyes scan over everyone, ready to make a quick exit if you have to.

Mike settles in closer behind you, the heat of his chest pouring across your back, and you can feel the pillow dip when he rests his head on it. He waits for a while before letting his arm fall over your waist. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut, makes something crawl into your throat, trying to scratch its way out.

"I really don't wanna go tonight," you murmur.

You expect some form of protest, a convincing argument in the form of a well thought out fucking speech while he kisses down the back of your neck, but instead, a low rumble of, "Okay," spills from his mouth, and you hate how it makes you feel—how grateful you are for him.

He's getting to know you. Has gotten to know you after spending so much time together. He can read your ups and downs now, can tell when you're joking or serious, take the hint when you want him with a single look (that one might be the most irritating), but it just goes to show how perceptive he is, how much of himself he's been hiding while in college.

The shallow jock you thought you knew is no comparison for this.

"Spring break's coming up," he speaks into your hair, inhaling deeply and whispering to himself, "Citrus kills me," like you can't hear him.

You pretend not to because it's soft and personal and would probably make him adorably self-conscious, and you can't deal with Mike blushing.

"Yeah, it is. Couple more weeks."

"What're your plans?"

You shrug against him, trying not to get too wrapped up in the way his body feels over yours, longer legs tangling between yours, his draped hand nearly covering your entire stomach, his stubble scratching your neck and cheek.

When did you get this close? When did you decide it was okay to be this intimate? This is what couples do. This is comfort.

And, you didn't think you needed it, but fuck—

"Nothing, really. Go see Mom, I guess."

"Come stay with me," he says quickly. "Just for a few days."

You wriggle to turn on your back and frown up at him as a myriad of questions fill your mind.

Mike takes a deep breath, somehow reading every one of them.

"I know that sounds like a 'come meet my parents' thing, but I promise it's not. I just thought it'd be cool to hang out not at school and not at a party. Plus," he shows a broad grin. "You can meet Scout."

"Mm, tempting," you laugh. "I do like dogs."

"And, you'll love her! She's so sweet and so goofy and—"

"I'll think about it," you stop him.

Mike bites his lip, looking hopeful, but tries to play it off with a, "Okay, cool," then leans down to kiss you as if you've already said yes.

Honestly, you have, just not out loud. He had you at 'hanging out'.

Studying sucks. Midterms suck. Avoiding parties, however, does not suck. Mike still goes to most of them, kind of has to considering they're usually thrown at the PKA house, but sometimes he just shows his face then comes to your dorm. You try to convince him to stay, hang out with his friends, but he usually just shrugs and digs through your stash of movies until he finds something he wants to watch.

It's fine with you, makes passing geochem a lot fucking easier, but it also means little sleep and a perpetual soreness between your legs.

You just… Can't get enough of each other. And, you think that's how it's always been since that first party. Afterward, you had denied him in the courtyard and then broke as soon as he got into your room to get his stupid shirt. Denied him at the bar then broke as soon as he leaned over you at the pool table. Denied him at the after-game party and broke after… Seeing his room? Watching movies? Acting like friends for the first time? Whatever it is, you're always falling into bed together, some kind of unstoppable force against your obviously very movable object.

It's something you think about too much now, always somewhere in the back of your head. At this point, you should probably just be with him, don't know who you're kidding with that lie about focusing on school (your grades have never been better actually), but you're scared. That's really what's been hard to admit to yourself, not the fact that you're attracted to him or the fact that your irritation has bloomed into genuine fondness and admiration. It's that's you're fucking terrified. You can feel it in your bones.

Don't get too attached because people leave. All the time. People let you down. People disappoint.

You don't want Mike to disappoint you, so you won't give him the chance to.

Of course, all of that is easier said than done as you look over at him in the Wrangler, one huge hand pn the wheel as his other arm hangs out of the open window, catching the wind that batters against it like he's trying to push back. You hate it when he does that, too many horror stories of car crashes that end in traumatic amputations, but it's one of Mike's strange simple pleasures, makes him grin as if it's his head hanging out instead. At his core, Mike Zacharias is just a huge fucking puppy dog.

A dubstep song from too long ago is blasting through his speakers, the vibrations hitting you square in the chest as you bounce your leg and bob your head. It's beautiful outside, winter's bite melting away into sunny springtime days. Some of them still bring a chill to the air, but it doesn't matter since you basically live in one of Mike's hoodies, dark green with the school's lacrosse logo stamped in the middle. It's faded and worn out and far too big on you, but it's quite possibly the most comfortable article of clothing you've acquired.

The drive to his parents' house is a good three hours, but between the playlist he's made (stellar, not that you'd admit it), the road games you play, and the road head you give him ("Oh, Jesus Christ, this isn't safe—this isn't safe—fuck—") you make it there in one piece and in good spirits, though you have take a few drinks of the soda you got at the convenience store to wash the residue of cum out of your mouth before meeting his god damn family.

He grabs both your bags from the backseat, slinging them over his shoulders, then starts up the path to a… surprisingly small home. It isn't a shack by any means, but after what you saw of Erwin's stupid ranch house and some of the pictures and stories Nile and Gelgar have subjected you to, you just kind of figured all of them had ridiculous amounts of money.

Then again, you know Mike got a full ride to college with a sports scholarship, and he rarely talks about his family and their lifestyle aside from Scout and little tales from his childhood—trips to the zoo, the one time he rode a dirt bike and broke his collarbone, he and his dad rescuing an injured bunny from the park.

You should've known back then that you'd get in too deep.

The small garden that lines the house is well-kempt and full of blooming flowers, and the porch is home to a wire table and matching chairs with an unsavory gnome sitting on top.

"What in the world…"

Mike doesn't even glance to see what you're looking at, just opens the screen door and informs you, "That's Leonidas," so casually that it makes you snort and push him into his own house.

It opens up to a living room, long couch, recliner, coffee table and all. A TV sits right in the middle of a beige entertainment center, DVDs stacked on one side, blu-ray discs on the other. It smells clean—like the lemon wipes you use in your dorm—but even stronger than that is the smell of food.

"Must already be cooking," Mike muses, then calls out in a different fucking language that has you turning to him in confusion.

Before you can ask about it, a plump woman a couple inches taller than you comes rushing out of what you assume to be the kitchen. Her graying hair is tied into a loose bun, cheeks rosy from the heat, and she's still in her apron and a single oven mitt.

"Miche, γλυκό μου αγόρι!"

She stops in front of him and reaches up to grab his face, peppering it with little kisses and babbling words you do not understand in the slightest.

Mike is laughing, speaking to her in the same fashion, possibly answering questions or defending himself judging by the way he holds his hands up. You think you have an inkling about why when his mother turns to you, puts her hands on your shoulders to look at you, then pulls you into a tight hug.

You squeeze her right back, rocking to and fro as she does, then look up at Mike from the corner of your eyes in a panic.

What do you do, what is happening, what hasn't he told you?

It’s about this time that a large dog runs into the room and actually jumps into Mike’s arms. He grunts as he hoists Scout up, nuzzling into her beautiful coat as she tries to lick his face.

"Mamá, let her get settled first," Mike laughs from where he’s getting attacked. His mother lets go of you, but it’s only for Mike to set the dog back down, and Scout takes the opportunity to sniff and paw at you. “Be nice,” he warns her, pulling you in front of him and pushing you toward the hallway.

That need to snoop around is ever present as you enter his room, but the much more pressing issue is, "You could've prepared me, ya' know. Given me a little heads up that you're…"

"Greek?" He snorts, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt. "My last name is Zacharias. That's a pretty good indicator."

"I—..." You pause, pout, then mumble, "I'm not a genealogy expert."

"Obviously not."

He dumps the bags on his bed, a queen size, thank god, because he had told you last week they didn't have a guest room (and had seemed pretty happy about it at the time).

"I'll get mom and dad to speak in English for the next few days."

"I mean," you shake your head. "It's their house. I don't wanna intrude on that. Let 'em do what they're most comfortable with."

He steps over to you, makes his classic move of staring down at you and smoothing his hand over your hair to make you tilt your head up. "That's sweet, but I know they're dying to talk with you, so actually being able to understand what they’re saying is kinda necessary."

Humming, you stand on your tip-toes just as he begins to stoop lower. Before you can meet in a kiss, though, you smirk, "And, just why do they wanna get to know me, Miche? Is that a secret Greek name too?”

He licks his lips, voice husky when he replies, "I've mentioned you a few times--”

“Uh huh,” you smirk, too close for him to actually see.

“And no, I think it’s Hebrew or something.”

You snicker before your mouths meet, breaths grow heavy, and the only time you break apart is so that you can look him in his light eyes and tell him, "By the way, the whole speaking a different language thing you can do?" He grunts, encouraging you to continue. "Very hot."

You feel him smile against you, a self-satisfied, "Yeah?" making you burn against him.

"Yeah."

It's hard to leave the room, but you both know you have to, hoping neither of you look too kiss-swollen when you walk back into the living room, and when Mike's mom is no longer there, he brings you to the kitchen instead.

"Smells good," he tells her, leaning over the stove and taking a whiff of the prepared dish that’s been set on top--stuffed tomatoes and peppers that make your mouth water.

She says something, and Mike lets her finish before asking, "Can we speak in English while she's here? It's kinda hard to add to a conversation when you, like, don't know what's being said."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She immediately gushes, turning to you with a worried look. Her accent is thick and charming, but she doesn't ever stutter, clearly fluent, just more comfortable in her apparently native language. "I just get so caught up when my Miche comes home, I—"

And, she's hugging you again.

"I'm Maia! Christopher—Miche's father—should be home soon."

You rub Maia's back until she lets go and turns back to the stove, but even as she does, she's asking you, "How is school? What are you studying? Miche's told me very few things."

He shouldn't have told you anything at all, you want to say.

"Um, it's good. I'm an earth sciences major, geology specifically, so Mike—uh—Miche's been helping me study a lot."

He leans down to speak so only you can hear, "Not necessary to call me that. She's gonna know who you're talking about when you say Mike."

Not that you'll tell him, but you kind of like the way 'Miche' feels, the way it rolls from your lips to the back of your mouth, and for just one second, you think about how you'd like to moan it in his ear.

"So, uh," you shake your head in an attempt to get it back on straight. "Yeah, it's going good, I think."

"It is nice that you study together," Maia hums, slicing into the dish to portion it out. "Miche probably enjoys the break from his fraternity life."

Mike makes an unsure noise, but you grin and lean on the counter, eyes shining as you look at the middle-aged woman, "You know, speaking of that, I need to know what he was like before the whole frat thing 'cause—"

"Uhh, we don't need to talk about that," Mike quickly cuts you off.

Maia, however, catches your eye and winks, a silent promise that she'll fill you in later.

Mike sees it, whines a dramatic, "Mamá, please."

You laugh, glancing over at him with a devious smile that makes him roll his eyes and grumble something.

The creak of a door opening followed by the sound of a screen slamming back against the frame signals the arrival of Mike's father. It takes him a couple minutes to join everyone in the kitchen, probably taking the time to get more comfortable after what you assume to be a long day.

When he does walk in, once styled hair fallen out of place, top two buttons of his shirt undone, you see exactly where Mike gets most of his looks. He may have gotten his fucking mane from his mother, but he definitely got his height and his eyes from his father.

"Oh!" He stops short when he sees you, looks at his wife, then at you, then at Mike. "Is this the girl?"

"Dad!"

Both of his parents snicker as he turns to you, pleading more than telling, "Just ignore them, they don't know what they're talking about."

You don't pay him any mind, join in on the fun when you lift an eyebrow and tease, "Am I, Mike? Am I the girl?"

"Oh my god, this is gonna be a nightmare," he groans, the tips of his ears growing red. Still, he tries to put on a stern face as he points at his parents, speaks in beautiful, rolling words that are beyond you, then turns his flashing gaze to you and commands, "And you, don't encourage them."

"Mm, no promises." You stick the tip of your tongue between your teeth and wink at his mom the way she had at you earlier.

All of you sit at an actual table for dinner, something you haven't done in at least a decade, as you talk and laugh between bites of food. Scout is laying underneath, waiting for someone to drop a piece of food, and every once in a while, you feel her wet nose nudge against your calf.

Maia and Chris are very kind and very funny, and it isn't just because they pick on their son all the time. Chris talks about his day in the office, complaining about coworkers the same way Mike complains about his brothers—"I just don't understand why you would eat sardines in the break room! Someone explain it to me!" Maia tells everyone about the three hour phone call with her mother—"My god that woman can talk. Every time we said goodbye, she would just start on something new!"

"Explains where you get it from," Chris says with a chuckle.

Maia scoffs then stabs a piece of his food with her fork, eating it with purpose as her husband watches.

You lean over to Mike and murmur, "They're cute. I like 'em."

He grunts. "That makes one of us."

Sucking your teeth, you mimic his mother's actions and dig your fork into the meat of his pepper, stealing a bite and scraping your teeth over the utensil in a way you know drives him crazy.

You immediately regret it when you realize how big the piece is, filling your mouth so that it's hard to chew, and you grab a napkin to cover yourself while Mike snorts and smugly says, "Yeah, bet you feel real smart right now. How does thievery taste?"

Shoving his arm, you manage to swallow down enough of the food to talk and tell him, "Tastes delicious."

When you look back across the table, you find Maia and Chris staring at you and Mike with shining eyes and matching grins.

You get along well with Mike's parents. A little too well in his opinion. There are a couple mornings you wake up earlier than he does and share coffee with his mother. He'll walk in to hear her sharing terrible stories about how, "He was such a sensitive little boy," and, "I miss the days he and his friends would spend afternoons here playing their little games."

She even breaks out the photo albums one evening after dinner, leaving Mike mortified as you laugh and 'aww' at the pictures of past birthdays, Boy Scout outings, and the horrors of middle and high school.

"Look how cute you are with braces!"

"Please stop."

"All dressed up for Easter, oh my god, are those bunny ears?"

"Mom made me."

"You were so skinny. What happened?"

"Are you calling me fat?"

"No, I'm calling you buff. Dummy."

Less embarrassing are the long walks the two of you take with Scout (who also loves you, of course). She stays close to your hip as you wander around the park, only leaving your side when you throw her favorite ball. At the house, she noses at you until you shift to let her lay either at your feet or on the couch with her big head in your lap.

It's the cutest fucking thing Mike has ever seen, and he hates it because he can't do anything about it. He can't tell you how much he likes seeing you walk around in his house. He can't tell you how much joy it brings him to hear your laugh ring out alongside his parents'. He can't tell you how much he loves seeing you slide into his old bed in nothing but one of his shirts, making yourself comfortable against his chest and weaving your legs between his.

He can't tell you, but he can do his best to show you.

Late at night when his parents are asleep, when the buzzing TV is the only thing lighting the room, Mike moves inside of you with deep, slow thrusts. He hikes your legs up to lock around his waist or pulls you up against himself if he's taking you from behind. No matter the position, it leaves you clawing at him, breathing heavily, jaw dropping open in a silent scream.

You feel so good, so tight around him even after he gets you ready for his cock. Your silken walls squeeze and milk him, pulling every drop of cum from him to soak into you. Fuck, he's so glad you're letting him do that now, fill you up until you can't take any more, until white is dribbling from your messy pussy. The way you look at him all fucked out is intoxicating, eyes droopy, smile lazy, body twitching with aftershocks as he sucks on your neck and kisses down your shoulders.

You have to know. You have to. Mike knows his feelings are written all over his face when he looks at you, may as well be carved into his skin. The words are on the tip of his tongue every night, but he muffles them with kisses, with burying his face between your legs, with sinking his teeth into your soft flesh.

He can't say it because saying it makes it real. Saying it will make it hurt more.

So Mike keeps his mouth shut, watches you every day as you converse with his parents and play with Scout. You poke around his bedroom in your usual nosy fashion, finding the rest of his Magic cards, old D&D books and privacy screens. The dusty record player he'd inherited from his grandfather interests you above all else, vinyls stacked around it, some old, some new, and as you flip through them now, cross-legged on the floor and swimming in his hoodie, you tell him the little things you talked about with his mom earlier in the day.

"She showed me your baby teeth," you say with a snort. "Why do parents keep those? My mom did too."

"Black Magic, obviously," Mike says seriously, but when you glance up at him, he chuckles. "I don't know, babe. It's fuckin' weird, though."

You grin and look back down at The Alan Parsons Project vinyl in your lap. You're quiet for a moment, but when you do speak up, it's in a quiet voice. "I'm pretty sure they think I'm your girlfriend."

Mike cringes on the bed, shutting his eyes and sighing. "Yeah, that's probably 'cause I told them you were."

"What?" You turn your whole body to face him, eyes wide and incredulous.

Sitting up, Mike holds his hands out and questions, "What was I supposed to tell them? Hey, mom and dad, I'm bringing home this girl I fuck at school all the time."

"We don't just fuck," you scoff. "You could've said friend or… Study buddy."

"Study buddies with benefits," he lets out a humorless laugh. "How many of those study sessions end with your mouth around my cock?"

"That's beside the point." You stand up and walk over to the bed, hands on your hips as you glare at him in an unconvincing manner. You're not actually upset, Mike realizes. A little annoyed maybe but more surprised than anything. "The point is they expect us to do couple-y things."

"We do do couple-y things." Mike reminds you, rolling his eyes when you snicker and murmur 'ha, do do'. "Oh my god, you're a dork."

"So are you. And, a dumb one. What happens when they find out we're not actually together? Are we gonna have to stage a break up somewhere down the line?"

"Stop worrying about it," Mike tries, reaching out for one of your arms to pull you on top of him. You must be very used to straddling him at this point. It seems like you're in his lap more often than you're not these days, even if the two of you are just talking. "Just chill and fake it for a little while longer."

You pout, glancing to the wall for a second before you mutter, "Might be tough. I've never had to fake anything for you before."

Mike groans and traces his fingers up your sides, stopping at your shoulders and using them to guide you closer to him. With your face only millimeters from his, he barely even has to whisper when he presses, "Fake it just this once."

You nod, lips brushing his, and from there you both devolve into sloppy kisses and desperate hands. As always.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk x reader #mels prima vista

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wheelsup · 4 years ago

Text

moreid as a cheesy high school teen movie romance | headcannon

(this really got away from me, it is incredibly cheesy. derek and spencer are the same age (but one year apart) in this au. tw: mentions of anxiety, mentions of homophobia. 1.4k words because like i said, it got away from me)

spencer, a sophomore, shows up on the first day of school in one of derek’s junior-level classes. derek remembers him from the summer, when he had to come to school for off-season practice and spencer was there for chess club tournaments, he passed him a few times in the hall. he’s gotten taller since then, and his cheekbones have come in. he looks good. not like the awkward freshman he remembers.

spencer’s always getting called on in class, and derek can see him panicking every time he has to speak up.

each time spencer’s anxiety kicks up after he talks in class, derek leans over and tells him he did a good job. that he didn’t look as nervous as he felt.

spencer starts speaking up more in class, not just because derek’s reassuring him and easing his anxiety, but because he knows it will get the boy will talk to him. even if for just a moment.

after class one day, derek stops spencer as he’s walking home and asks for his phone number. he says it’s so they can talk about homework, but derek knows that it’s the only thing he won’t be texting reid for. spencer has to pretend his hands aren’t violently shaking when he types his number into derek’s phone, he’s afraid he’s going to drop it with how sweaty his palms feel.

spencer waits for derek to text him, but nothing comes through. two days go by without a message, and spencer’s stomach is turning inside out and he’s so sad. on the third day, derek finds him in the cafeteria at lunch and corners him, asking why he hasn’t been responding to his messages.

“why haven’t you texted me back?”

“i never got a message?”

“well i sent you like seven of them”

that’s when they figure out spencer gave him the wrong number. he was so nervous and shaky that he hit a zero where it should have been a one. both those boys spent three days thinking that their crush was unrequited. in reality, derek had sent him seven texts and spencer was crushing so hard he couldnt even type right.

reid’s contact name is obviously pretty boy

spencer hates phones but he turns his notifications on just so he never misses a text

dereks mature and texts back normally, spencer is insecure and tries to wait to reply so he doesn’t look like he was waiting for a text

even though the mutual crush is so obvious, they still pretend like their texts are nothing to speak of. they’re nervous.

them staying up past midnight texting is just because they’re “buds”. derek telling spencer what his favorite movies are, which spencer saved onto his netflix list, and spencer sending derek song recommendations that he saves into a playlist, is definitely just “buddy” stuff.

it’s the day before the big homecoming game, and derek’s going to start. he wore his letterman jacket around all week to show his pride, like football players are supposed to do the week leading up to the game.

it also rains really hard that day, and spencer shows up to class looking like a drowned puppy with his sweater completely soaked. he had to walk across the entire campus to make it to class, and he couldn’t avoid getting caught in the rain.

derek sees him, shivering and pale, and slips him his letterman jacket to wear in class. he does it so casually, like it wasn’t even a question for him to give it up, but, he’s nervous that spencer’s not gonna wanna wear it, even if he is fighting hypothermia. he has to actively try not to smile when spencer accepts the jacket.

it’s so much bigger than spencer is, and so, so warm.

after class, spencer hands it back to him and thanks him for letting him wear it. derek tells him to hold on to it for now.

“aren’t you supposed to wear it for the game tomorrow?”

“how about you wear it. give it back to me after i win.”

he blushes so hard and he’s so in love with derek, but spencer’s scared to wear it to school the next day.

nobody would say anything to derek, but the homophobic assholes could easily pick on spencer. they already ragged on him enough, he didn’t want to give them any more reasons. he tries it on and takes it off a hundred and one times in the mirror before going to school.

he ultimately doesn’t wear it to class.

it would just make him too easy of a target, and he wanted to so badly, but he’s scared of the bullies.

he’s also scared to face derek. he avoids him all day, hoping he doesn’t see that spencer didn’t wear it to class that day like he was supposed to. he avoids him in the hall. he hides in a seat in the back of the classroom.

it doesn’t work. derek turns around in the front row, eyes scanning for spencer. he’s absolutely crestfallen when he sees him, sans jacket. and spencer’s clearly been avoiding him today, and so he gets the message. spencer doesn’t like him like that.

the sun was out that day, and the wet grass field was gonna dry up in time for the big game, but derek’s whole world felt dark.

spencer tries to talk to him after class, but derek’s nowhere to be found. he texts him as he walks home alone and doesn’t get any response. spencer tries to convince himself derek’s just at practice, and he doesn’t have his phone on him, but he knows that practice doesn’t run that long.

it’s 7pm now. derek’s big game is about to start, and spencer’s sitting on his bed, staring at the ceiling and hoping he didn’t just ruin his chance. derek looks over the bleachers before the coin toss and he doesn’t see the only face he’s looking for.

bullies have taken so much from spencer, and he was letting them take his first (potential) boyfriend away from him too. spencer wants to stay in bed and cry, and he does for a bit, but if ever spencer was going to take a stance, he decided it should be now.

he shows up to the game five minutes before half time, just enough to see derek in action. he’s never seen anything so impressive. as the team is huddled up and the marching band is playing, derek by chance glances over the bleachers and sees reid. front row with that big jacket over his shoulders.

derek’s heart has left his body, ascended into the sky. he plays even better that second half, but he feels like he’s floating on air, even when he’s getting tackled and rammed.

reid, who has never seen a game of football in his life, is learning everything he can as it unfolds before him.

he’s clinging onto every play, cheering when derek does something good (really, the whole team did it, but to reid derek IS the whole team) and booing when the other team was up.

sometimes he doesn’t know what happened and why the crowd is cheering, but he cheers anyways.

the game is over and people are leaving but spencer is glued in place. the team lost and everyone’s disappointed, but spencer is the proudest he could ever be.

because the first derek does is walk off the field and towards the bleachers. to him.

they don’t kiss. not here. in front of all these prying eyes and bright lights, not in a place where they couldn’t savor it.

derek does hold spencer’s hand, though. it means everything that he came. it means more that he wore the jacket.

and he’s scared, too. he might be the school’s beloved football star, but this is the first boy he’s ever liked and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

they leave the game together. derek’s team is wondering where he went because he was supposed to come get drunk with them to forget the loss. but derek won tonight.

derek and spencer tell each other they might not know how to do this, but they wanna figure it out. it’s worth enduring a bit of pain for this much joy. the bullies couldn’t possibly kill off the butterflies in spencer’s stomach every time he even thought about derek.

they kiss at spencer’s front door, under his dimmed porch light. the world falls away around them, all that exists is derek’s hands caressing spencer’s face, and spencer’s arms wrapping around derek’s waist.

spencer keeps the letterman jacket. he’s going to wear it to class on monday.

taglist: @ellesgreenaway @suburban--gothic @sturmmhond @ssa-sarahsunshine @mediocre-writer @hotchgans @ssa-m-187 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @makaylajadewrites

#moreid #derek morgan #derek x spencer #spencer reid #hc #headcannon #criminal minds #my fic #derek morgan x spencer reid

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tsukiida · 4 years ago

Text

honey — bakugou katsuki

— info :: bakugou x gn!reader ; sfw ; fluff & humour ; 6.04k words.

— contents :: quirkless reader ; reader’s pov ; scheming friends ; dumbass!reader ; slight cussing ; confessions.

— synopsis :: if there’s one thing that you have in common with bakugou katsuki, it’s obliviousness to the other’s feelings. a haunted house is the best place to resolve misunderstandings.

— note :: it’s been a while; I finally finished this!! :D it’s a continuation to bakugou’s “pining”, and I’d suggest reading that first for the full experience™ but there are hints dropped throughout “honey” to give you an idea of what happened! I hope y’all like this! :)

quite honestly, you've got to be the biggest idiot possible.

really, you had the best chance.

it’s not like confessing to bakugou katsuki would be that bad, right? the most he’d do is turn you down with a scoff and then go back to pretending you don’t exist while chasing his heroic dreams.

he’s not big on humiliating people unless they’re— a: aspiring heroes, or b: midoriya izuku.

he definitely wouldn’t lord it over your head and tease you about it.

kaminari really gave you the best opportunity to get things out in the open!

and you let it slip through your fingers like an idiot.

furthermore, you really did also say that you have absolutely no romantic interest in the explosive pretty boy. you acted like the idea of harboring any feelings towards him shocked you. you also acted like he was the weird one for thinking you liked him.

while having a raging crush on him which really makes your heart beat and bounce around in your ribcage as if getting a firsthand taste of his quirk.

have you mentioned that you’re an idiot?

right, you have done that enough times, so maybe the next step is to explain why.

you’d been out running an errand when you’d come across midoriya izuku.

midoriya; the only other quirkless student in your year, in junior high. you’d never talked much to him, but you’d felt a sense of camaraderie with him whenever you saw him. the school was small enough that you could count the number of quirkless people on one hand.

you and deku were included in that number.

the only reason why you didn’t get picked on for the reasons he did was because you never wanted to be a hero.

and you avoided bakugou katsuki like the plague.

to be honest, you hated him at first.

you’d seen it all, but hadn’t been able to do anything other than giving midoriya a few words of comfort which felt hollow to your own ears. you still blamed yourself a little for having never helped him properly.

you loathed bakugou for being as powerful as he was, as arrogant and stuck up as he was, and for being the petty bully who really thought he was better than someone just because of a quirk.

you were bitter. not because you didn’t have a quirk, but because people like him made people like you feel like you weren’t worth anything.

that’s why, when you chanced upon midoriya after such a long time, you were elated.

you were so happy when you found out that he really did have what it takes to be a hero.

if you deliberately ignored bakugou, then that’s entirely on him and not on you.

you won’t be taking responsibility for things that aren’t your fault.

…you were also wary of him.

you didn’t want him to blow you up if you so much as smiled at him.

not that he deserved seeing your smile anyway.

that’s what you told yourself right in the beginning. and that’s what came to bite you in the ass, because some days you have to do your best to conceal your smile at the mention of the stupid explosive boy’s name.

he really does scare you, you didn’t lie about that. but despite that, your brain thinks that it’s fun to get flustered over someone who scares you. just a little bit! he’s losing that scariness rapidly in all situations except when you’ve seen him in action as a budding hero. you just get worried that he’s going to take one look at you and decide that you’re getting in his way, a nuisance to everyone, and whatever else he can think of you.

in all honesty, you’re aware that he was an idiot in middle school, and the majority of his issues stemmed from his convoluted relationship with midoriya. if midoriya himself can forgive him, then you don’t really have a reason to hold grudges. and you know he’s grown. he’s matured to an extent you never expected from him, but perhaps that’s how he goes through life.

exceeding expectations is something he’s great at.

and he’s grown into someone wonderfully inspiring, if not intimidating.

—juuuust a little!

…

uraraka finds out first.

you love that girl, but you could do without her knowing about your embarrassing crush on one bakugou katsuki.

if only she’d actually helped you out, instead of teasing you subtly to the point that you couldn’t even stay in the same room as bakugou—to the point that you vehemently denied any sort of interest in him when midoriya innocently brought up the other boy in a conversation.

it becomes a reflex to avoid anything related to bakugou and romance in the same space. which is how you landed yourself in the mess with kaminari.

so you’re going to blame uraraka. she’s definitely at fault! it’s not your wimpy self to blame!

“uraraka,” you end up mumbling into the phone, rocking back and forth while hiding your face against your knees, wishing to be swallowed whole.

“uraraka, i told kaminari that i don’t like him.” despite having promised yourself that you won’t bring the whole thing up with her, you can’t help it. she’s still your precious friend that you’re very fond of, and the same friend who wrangled out from you all of your embarrassing opinions of him.

“uraraka, he’s going to hate me now. he’s going to think i don’t think he’s cool or strong, or whatever else that might hurt his pride. he’s going to completely stop paying attention to me now!”

you may claim that you blame her, but you’re aware that she’s not at fault. she always tries hyping you up when you’re nervous and comforts you when you’re down. perhaps you’re taking advantage of her kindness, but you really don’t want to be left alone with your thoughts. and it really is her fault for being so encouraging when it comes to dealing with your feelings for bakugou katsuki.

so when your friend just wordlessly hums in response for the third time, your fingers clench in your hair and you let out a frustrated sigh. raising your pitch obnoxiously, you whine, “uraraka!”

“i love you, but if you call my name like that one more time i will tell deku.”

you freeze, not sure if she means telling him about your not-so-little crush, or merely the fact that you like singing uraraka’s name. she laughs mischievously, clearing up your confusion much too quickly, prompting you to let out frantic apologies and make her promise that she won’t let the cat out of the bag.

“really, though,” you mumble, “he didn’t even remember me. he asked me if i was messing with him using my quirk. i had to tell him i was quirkless and then deal with his anger.”

that gets her attention in an entirely different manner. she sounds positively incensed when she asks you why it matters if you’re quirkless, and you give her reasons that sound weak to your own ears.

“and how are you messing with him?”

that leads to you telling her about one of your earlier interactions with bakugou, back when you’d first started being friends with midoriya’s class. you mention how you were about ready to pass out when bakugou’s question registered in your mind and you had to tell him you were quirkless, before you’re back to bemoaning the conversation with kaminari.

and something clicks.

not in your brain.

but in uraraka’s.

…

it’s not just you avoiding bakugou.

bakugou avoids you like the plague.

the sensible part of you is relieved, but another, bigger and dumber, part of you is hurt. of course he’d avoid you if his friend asked you if you liked him, and you said you didn’t.

but ouch, you really didn’t expect it to hurt this much.

not that something like this should even matter to him, right? maybe it’s you who’s suddenly noticing that he avoids you, because now you have a reason to fixate on rather than trying to lie to yourself that bakugou is not entirely indifferent to you. he really has no reason to pay attention to you.

it all makes sense, but it doesn’t stop you from feeling saddened every time bakugou blatantly ignores you. nor does it stop you from going out of your mind wondering why kaminari, too, seems to avoid you at all costs. it’s not like you said you didn’t like him!

yes, it makes sense perfectly. but not to you.

it makes absolutely no sense to you.

…

midoriya’s advancing steadily in his hero career with uraraka’s help, because the latter convinces you to come meet up with the two of them on a rare day out, and the former conveniently drags bakugou out too.

really, such heroics, all for a friend’s pathetic love life? how heartwarming.

you’re still in shock at how easy it was, and god, you don’t want to think about the implications, with the way bakugou’s eyes flit from one to the other when he’s not looking at you.

you also don’t want to admit that you’re stealing glances out of the corner of your eye at the blond when you don’t feel his eyes boring into you.

talk about awkward.

you’ve always been enamoured by how smart bakugou actually is, but it works against you when he corners you after uraraka and midoriya mysteriously vanish under the guise of training.

(that too at an arcade, because gaming supposedly helps achieve better reflex. why is a quirkless person with no interest in being a hero even invited to this outing? one will never know. the only games being played here are with your frayed self-control.)

“oi, if you’re gonna avoid me, don’t be so obvious about it.”

“a—? avoid you?” you practically squeak, and his annoyance seems to increase. there’s something else that you can’t really put a finger to. you’d say he almost looks agitated? but there’s nothing to agitate himself over…

…unless he still thinks you’ve got a raging crush on him.

“nope!” you hastily respond before realising he’s not even said anything to you, but hey, it’s as good an answer to his complaint about you avoiding him.

why’s he complaining, anyway? shouldn’t he be glad no one’s getting in his way?

you ask as much, and he all but growls, words escaping him as you take a step back. bakugou is more susceptible to dramatics than one would think. you used to find it funny, but when such behaviour is aimed at you, you’re not sure how to respond.

“you think you can actually get in my way?” he bursts out, and you make a show of thinking about it, when internally every single one of your brain cells is rioting, self-composure in shambles as you’re rudely made aware of how little distance is between the two of you.

that’s fine, you’re strong, you’re not going to be weak in the face of bakugou katsuki’s incredibly attractive glower.

no, you’re not whipped, thank you very much, to the uraraka-shaped devil materialising in your mind.

ah, back to the matter at hand. it’s not possible for quirkless little you to get in his way, is it?

anyway—

“aren’t you the one avoiding me?” you’re going to try and turn this situation around on him even if it means confronting things you don’t want to.

he scoffs in disbelief, but by that time you’ve worked up the courage to look at him, and you see the look in his eyes. you’ve spent enough time around him to know what that means, even if you barely ever look at him. he looks like he’s been caught, and isn’t that the funniest little thing?

he notices the twitch of your mouth, his own eyes narrowing as it’s your turn to be caught now.

“kaminari,” bakugou says in lieu of a response, and your heart jumps in your throat. you don’t mind dropping a subject if he doesn’t plan on grilling you on it too—changing the subject would be great, but he just picked one even worse than the last!

“he’s stupid, don’t pay attention to him.”

“uh huh, he sure is,” you laugh nervously. if you’d had your bearings about you, you’d never have said that. as it is, your mind is still shaken up and hoping that he doesn’t catch on to the fact that you are the stupid one.

you’re also very busy battling a smug uraraka and shouting at incompetent old you for swooning in the face of your biggest problem. and for, you know, missing that golden chance to confess without anxiety.

“look at me.”

nuh uh, nope, not possible. you’re not going to survive looking into his pretty eyes.

he lets out another frustrated sound, and you wait for him to blow up again—maybe even cause explosions. you wonder why he’s not been doing that lately.

he gets tired of your stalling, and surprises you by getting in your line of sight, locking eyes with you.

ah, impatience is such a gorgeous look on him.

…and you’re insufferable.

“i am not avoiding you. why would i, idiot? there’s nothing i need to avoid you for.”

you nod, not quite believing him, but you really want to just move on from this. a part of you wonders if you should come clean. but bakugou really doesn’t seem like he wants to hear anything about that. it’s in the way his eyes flit away momentarily and his expression sours, and in the way he seems to be pushing himself to hold onto some shreds of self-control.

all you can do is nod, really.

“where’s deku?”

you’re barely able to carry on the conversation, making some excuse or the other as to your missing friend(s), doing your best to act like you don’t have a clue either. if he finds your behaviour suspicious, bakugou doesn’t comment on it.

he does comment on something else. again.

“you don’t have to keep avoiding me just because of pikachu either.”

really? there’s nothing better for him to talk about? you thought you were past this! and calling kaminari ‘pikachu’ is not that smart!

“pikachu was cute…” you mumble. and you need to be louder, because you don’t want bakugou leaning in any closer to hear you.

the proximity is doing things to you.

things like making you forget that he probably hates your guts and doesn’t want to spend time with you, nor talk to you, at all. things like how he’s probably upset at being stuck babysitting you while midoriya and uraraka are off who knows where. things like making you discuss the cute factor of a magic ball–inhabiting yellow electric creature when bakugou clearly means the boy who almost outed your silly crush.

the boy who was giving you the best opportunity to confess!!!

if there’s one person who will never let you forget that, it’s your own self.

bakugou makes a sound that almost sounds like laughter, but there’s no way, right?

he shuffles back slightly, making it that much easier to breathe before he drops another bomb.

“school festival.”

you blink.

“it’ll be next month. make sure you’re free.”

oh. the stupid part of you is internally rejoicing, but since there is no way that he’d actually ask you to come—

“a-are you asking me to visit…?”

no no no, you didn’t mean to ask—

bakugou gives you a flat stare, and you gulp. so you were right for once.

you mull over it for a moment, the concrete under your feet extremely interesting before meeting his eyes again, “am i allowed to?”

“you practically live with us with how often i see you in the dorms. you think they’ll stop you now?” he snorts, rolling his eyes, but there’s not as much bite to his words as one would expect.

he has a point.

but you can’t really see reason when every single cell of your body is screaming ‘IT’S A DATE’ over and over again.

you groan, before swallowing back the sound. uh oh, bakugou’s going to think you don’t want to—

“come when you can.”

hands in his pockets, he walks off as if he wasn’t just making you go through all stages of panic.

…

uraraka tells you why she vanished. she was simply being a ‘good friend’ and trying to get you and bakugou to reconcile. you politely tell her it wasn’t required, especially because there wasn’t much that happened.

except the fact that he asked you to turn up to the festival, so that’s nice, at least.

uraraka doesn’t react as expected, again, and she utters the cursed words that you never wanted to hear out loud. “aw, a date!”

“uraraka, no!”

but it’s too late. it’s been said and now you can’t think of anything else. you know it’s not a date, any sane person would know that, but you can’t stop thinking of that one stupid word and bakugou and the school festival and spending time with bakugou at the festival—

“uraraka… the festival— i’ll need to see him. i’ll see him having the time of his life while he’s in his element, i’ll see that infuriating face— i’ll have to spend time with him—”

“y/n,” uraraka gives you a look that’s the perfect amount of wary and pitying to make you embarrassed, but there are bigger things to worry about than your friend’s opinion of you.

“this is bakugou we’re talking about. he’s not that open about having fun unless it has something to do with murder.” the fact that he won’t be keen on spending time with you goes unsaid, but you know what she’s hinting at. “also, i don’t think you find his face as infuriating as you say.”

“still. bakugou katsuki. he… told me to— agh—”

and you’re back to square one, where the very mention of bakugou katsuki has you confused out of your mind because you don’t know how to act around him.

perfect.

…

time passes quicker when you’re hoping for the opposite, you find out when the days go by faster than you can blink. there’s just a week left before you have to see bakugou again, and it makes you nervous every time you think about it. which is a lot of times.

you’ve not seen the class in a while, since everyone told you they have a ‘surprise.’ you know they’re aiming to outdo their previous performance at the festival, you’re rooting for them. but without one of your main sources of entertainment, things haven’t been eventful.

except the conversation you have with kaminari over text, because of course he somehow procured your contact information and of course he felt like he had to make amends.

maybe you were expecting it because you were already on edge from when bakugou confronted you, but kaminari doesn’t beat around the bush and gets straight to the matter, which is quite unlike the last time you both talked. that time.

“haven’t got the chance to check in w/ u in a while, we’ve been crazy busy! i hope u’ve been well >:D” shifts to “we’re good, right?” sooner than you’d like, and you’re left staring at your screen in shock as you try to think of an innocuous response that doesn’t give away your true emotions.

kaminari is too quick, and he doesn’t even give you a chance to think of a lie before the next ping distracts you, leaving you staring at the latest message in horror; “blame bakugou! he’s the one who told us you like him! i’m really sorry! :(”

it’s nice of him to apologise, but you really have other things to think about.

like how it’s bakugou katsuki himself who apparently thought you had a crush on him.

he knew.

he knows.

he knows he knows he knows—

no, no, he doesn’t know. he can’t. maybe he was just suspicious.

and on the off chance that he does know, then of course. he’s smart. you’re stupidly obvious. of course he’d figure out.

but he doesn’t seem to hate you. he was the one who approached you every time! when he asked you to turn your quirk off, when he supposedly instructed kaminari to ask you if you liked him, and when he told you to visit for the festival.

you like to think that he’s just too busy training to even realise that you like him. you hope that’s the case. you can always come clean and admit that yes, you really do like him. but there’s also your lame excuse of a pride that remembers the unreadable expression on his face when he’d heard you then, before promptly leaving, the door shut slamming shut behind him.

perhaps it’s not your pride, but guilt. you don’t want to be annoying and get in his way. there are too many things going on in his life already, why would you want to add on to all of that with your silly lies? the same logic applies to a confession too, argues the part of you that lives and breathes denial.

looking at it from another perspective, bakugou likes the attention and admiration. maybe it would’ve been for the best if you’d just admitted—

it’s too late now, so the most you can do is type out a hasty response to kaminari before he suspects your silence.

“it’s totally ok. we’re good :DD will see you guys soon!”

it’s purely to hold yourself accountable and not weasel your way out of the inevitable trip, but kaminari’s enthusiastic response manages to bring a smile to your face.

…

the evening before the grand day, you call uraraka up before the jitters can defeat you. she doesn’t react much other than humming and speaking a few encouraging statements while you lament over your luck and try to subtly ask her how bakugou has been doing.

“i’m sure he’s… excited.” you can practically feel the smile gracing her lips, and you know she’s having fun at your expense. when does she not?

you know she’s also having fun when she calls you a whiny complainer and says bakugou would probably blow up if he knew even a bit of it, and you – predictably – complain more, blaming her for meddling and bringing you to this point.

bakugou doesn’t need to know about your penchant for whining when things don’t go your way. you think he’s only ever seen you smiling and speaking politely with everyone, if he’s even been looking. that’s good, you don’t want him to find you bothersome. you’ve been doing your best to appear sophisticated around him.

…

no amount of complaining and whining could prepare you for when bakugou turns around and grabs at your wrist.

bakugou’s too close again—things are suddenly eventful.

“too damn slow, are you trying to get lost?” he grumbles as he pulls you through the throng of people, and you smile weakly, internally telling yourself to get your act together and not let on how frazzled you feel at that moment.

you don’t know whether it’s your own skin heating up under his touch, or if his quirk is responsible. for a moment, it reminds you of when he asked you if you’re using your quirk on him. it’s sudden enough that it makes you snort under your breath before you catch yourself. he gives you a quizzical look out of the corner of his eye, and you shrug, smiling lightly. that sates his curiosity, and he looks ahead again as he moves towards a predetermined destination.

it’s a lot easier to deal with his hand against yours after that. eventually, he lets go, and you find yourself missing the warmth for a moment.

the warmth completely leaves you when you find yourself in front of—

“a haunted house.”

“congrats. we’re going in. let’s see how shitty it is.”

you get the sinking suspicion that he plans to rip everyone’s confidence to shreds, and you don’t want to be around for that, but he doesn’t give you a chance to protest. you’re not supposed to be overstaying your welcome or overstepping your boundaries either, so you resign yourself to following him around quietly and perhaps apologising to his victims if he goes too far.

you’re his only victim.

you only make your way through a few scares before you get the scare.

bakugou katsuki promptly turns to you, glaring. you, being the genius that you are, take a step away from him. this continues till you’re best friends with the wall, and you try not to panic at the feeling of something slimy now clinging to your shoulder.

how can you, anyway? you’ve got bakugou staring at you with a contemplative look, almost as if he’s looking into your very soul.

“you talked to the idiot.”

“there are many idiots,” you mumble, knowing full well which idiot he’s referring to. you hope kaminari hasn’t tricked you yet again. did bakugou put him up to that conversation— there are too many things you don’t feel you have in yourself to think about.

something changes, then, and he lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. he seems agitated, almost awkward, and you wonder why.

“you piss me off.”

huh? is he talking about how much you get in his way and bother him and make things hard for him and—

“kirishima told me.”

…did another person figure out about your crush? kirishima’s always seemed really sweet, and you don’t think he’s the kind that would deliberately spill any secrets. it wouldn’t be manly, right?

“he told me i should apologise.”

“huh?” you really can’t hold it in. why is he the one apologising? shouldn’t you…? and why is he apologising by telling you that you piss him off?

“he said i shouldn’t have put you on the spot and then avoided you. dunno why he thinks he has any say in the matter but you know what i realised? maybe you think like that too. maybe you’re,” he spreads apart his fingers before making a fist and scowling at it, “hurt. and you really did avoid me after that.”

you don’t say anything, still stuck on how constipated he’d looked just moments ago. you’re not supposed to be amused right now.

“oi, say something. aren’t you gonna deny it?”

still nothing.

“say something before i leave this place without you.” your incredulity shows on your face, and he huffs, “what do you want?”

“i… i don’t need an apology… everything’s okay…” it’s not, but you don’t want him to look further into this. there’s no point. “i’m not hurt, bakugou. there’s no reason for you to apologise.”

“then why’re you still acting so jumpy? i told you, just forget about what the electric idiot said and go on merrily through life. i told him not to bring it up with you again.”

“he said you told them i like you.”

he mutters something under his breath, no doubt cursing his friend out after you throw him under the bus. but he doesn’t let it affect him, straightening up again as he looks at you.

“miscalculation,” he shrugs, “i told them to drop it after you said you didn’t.”

“you believe me?” you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but it slips out before you can stop yourself.

“no shit. you telling me you lied?”

you gulp. all of a sudden, the slimy wall is so interesting!

“stop avoiding my eyes, dammit!” bakugou comments, frustrated, and you inhale sharply.

“stop making me so nervous, then!”

uh oh. you shouldn’t have said that. it’s the game changer.

“i make you nervous?”

you don’t answer, hoping he drops it. he doesn’t, and he repeats the question. still, you can’t crumble just because he looks impatient, and you shrug non-committally. something tells you that the situation is steadily turning against you.

”hey, tell me. i make you nervous?” his grin is absolutely roguish as he waits for you to answer.

you still don’t speak, telling yourself that you won’t rise to the bait, you won’t respond to him because you’ve said way more than you needed to—

“weakling,” he sing-songs, and your jaw clenches.

“being nervous around someone isn’t necessarily a sign of weakness, bakugou. sometimes it’s also a sign of being wise.” there goes your plan.

“hah, are you saying that you’re wise for being nervous and avoiding me? what am i gonna do, eat you?”

“i don’t know, maybe executive some explosive murderous strategies?”

“i wouldn’t do that,” he spits out, running a hand through his hair. why is every pore of him screaming agitation? “it’s no fun defeating you when we’re not even competing.”

“oh really? then what’s your idea of fun?”

“when you tell me i make you nervous even though i’m not doing anything.”

“aren’t you supposed to be apologising to me?”

he snorts, “never. i only told you what some idiot thinks. but i can understand why you avoid me, i make you nervous after all.”

his self-satisfied laughter infuriates you, yet makes your own lips twitch.

he lets out a put-upon sigh, and scuffles the floor with his shoe.

“me too, dumbass.”

“huh?”

“you make me nervous too, idiot.”

“huh?”

face mere centimetres away from yours, he lowers his voice to a whisper, “i’ll only say this once, so keep your ears open if you want to know. i miscalculated. i thought you had a thing for me because you didn’t meet my damn eyes always gave pretty answers whenever you talked to me. but you didn’t. i was…” he gulps before clearing his throat, sounding far too aggressive in that moment before he practically grits out: “projecting. i was projecting because i’m apparently into you.”

you stare at him speechlessly. try as you might, you can’t think of a response. you don’t even know what he means by the last bit. surely he couldn’t mean…? why you, of all people? but you’re worried he might leave, his threat from earlier still rings clear. so you resign yourself into taking his words at face value and admitting the truth.

no, it’s not resignation. it’s the resolve you’ve been lacking for a while now, finally coming together after hearing that from bakugou. even if this is a cruel prank, you’ll survive. you just need to get it out before it consumes you and ends up being a what-if, years down the line.

“you may have projected, but it wasn’t a miscalculation. it’s… not entirely… unreciprocated. the feeling is mutual, you could say.”

it’s out now, and you’re alright. the ground doesn’t swallow you up, bakugou katsuki doesn’t blast you headfirst into slimy walls. nothing happens. the moment remains suspended in time, or perhaps time is suspended in that moment.

bakugou’s eyes narrow as he mulls over your words. he glares at you again. it’s muted.

“if it’s reciprocated, shouldn’t you be doing your best to cling to me every chance you get?”

him being reasonable and quiet puts you at ease. the words come out more easily.

“shouldn’t you have done the same?” he scoffs at your question, but doesn’t offer a response, so you continue, ”bakugou, you know why you avoided me, and i know why i avoided you. i didn’t want to get in your way. and i didn’t want anyone else to catch onto it.”

“was deku in on it?”

you know how he’ll respond if he knows midoriya had an inkling before him, so you hastily dispel the suspicion from his mind.

“you said you don’t know me well.”

“bakugou, you didn’t even remember me when we first met,” you reason with him, and he scowls. “it applies to both of us; we really don’t know each other enough.”

taking a deep breath, you continue, “as for the rest of it, i panicked. i admit i didn’t deal with the conversation as well as i should’ve, and some of the things that i said weren’t the nicest. i know it was hurtful even to kaminari, but i couldn’t help it.”

bakugou scoffs, “if anyone’s hurting, it’s only him. not that he has any reason to be.”

you wince as you’re reminded of the texts the boy sent you. now that you’re thinking clearly, you feel slightly bad for having been cold to him, and lied. but there are bigger matters at hand.

“you actually remember that conversation?”

“no shit, why else would i ask?”

“but… why? why do you remember it? that makes me feel a little guil–ty…” you trail off as sparks fly off his fingers, the explosion possibly unintentional. it allows you to see his face clearly in the dark, and the red tint to his ears surprises you. he’s glaring at the wall, not meeting your eyes, and your heart promptly melts.

“aw, bakugou, i didn’t know you cared—”

“shut the hell up!”

you wait for him to calm down as he sets off more explosions, but the smile on your face refuses to leave. he doesn’t seem to mind it either even as he glares at you, because there’s no harshness in his eyes.

“this doesn’t mean we’re dating,” he eventually declares, and you raise an eyebrow. “i won’t spend my time on things like that. we like each other, big deal.”

“i just said whatever you feel is not entirely unreciprocated. who says i like you?” you ask in a rare show of humour as you roll your eyes teasingly. sobering up, you nod slightly, “you could’ve worded it better, but i understand what you mean.” you hold up a hand to stop him from interrupting you. “don’t worry, i have no intention of getting in the way of something you’ve wanted practically your entire life, bakugou. it’d be stupid of me. and i know neither of us are ready for that level of commitment yet. it’s enough if we— you know…” you look at him pointedly, not wanting to utter the words. but it’s bakugou katsuki, and he’s run out of patience from after all the teasing you’ve subjected him to.

“it’s enough if we what—? tell me, i don’t know.” he leans in again, the petty side of him thriving. you’re starting to get used to his proximity; it’s what you tell yourself but you barely stop yourself from averting your eyes.

“i’m just saying it’s enough if we like each other. we can get to know each other slowly and that’s it. we don’t need to jump into something that has a low success rate in the first place.” he gives you an incredulous stare, and you elaborate, whistling, “high school flings are mostly just flings, bakugou.” it’s not the truth, but it’s not entirely a lie.

he makes a face at you. eventually, he exhales.

“so? you like me? can i ‘pass it off’ as that?”

“will you ever let that go?” you groan, and he only responds with a cocky tilt to his lips. “yes, i like you. i wonder why i do,” you huff. “why’d you bring me to a haunted house of all places?”

“so you could get scared and beg me to save you.”

(you make a note to yourself to tell uraraka later that it wasn’t a date. but truthfully, you’re not disappointed about that.)

you stare at him, unamused. “you scare me much more than any haunted house could.”

“then stop getting scared!”

from the way his face is angled away from yours, you’d almost think he’s pouting. your eyes move between his face and the steam—

you wait for his hand to stop steaming before reaching forward and taking hold of it.

you give him a wry smile.

he returns the gesture with the same wild eyes and disarming grin that first drew you to him.

…

word got out that someone had been threatening a visitor in the haunted house. bakugou’s friends are convinced that you both had another fallout—kaminari is too scared to even look in your direction. good for you, because he misses every time you and bakugou lock eyes.

you frequently find yourself stifling laughter.

— note :: thanks for reading!! :) please let me know how this was; a lot of effort went into it and I’m not sure how to feel about this, so feedback is really appreciated! :)

— taglist :: @kur0samu ; @mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law & @sorrythatspussynal ; @i-need-air. If you want to be removed from or added to my taglist (for bnha or all works), please send an ask. :)

#bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha headcanons #bakugou headcanons #bakugou katsuki imagines #boku no hero academia imagines #bakugou katsuki x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia headcanons #mha headcanons #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha #nia.inks

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tl-notes · 3 years ago

Text

Kobayashi’s Maid Dragon S2 Episode 3 Notes

Sparrows! Specifically the Eurasian tree sparrow, known in Japan as the suzume. You can just about see them all over Japan, all year long—but that doesn’t mean they aren’t a season word!

Depending on their depiction, they can be used as a season word for most times of the year, but a major one is “late spring,” as that’s when they’re out and about finding food for their baby birds. You can also see in the art they look a little floofy, indicative of the winter coat they haven’t fully shed yet; suzume in summer have a more sleek look. Here’s a shot of them from late summer last season:

And from closer to winter here↓. Quite fluffy.

As a quick refresher, 季語 kigo, or season words, are words/phrases/concepts used to give a sense of season to a haiku (or other poem/work of art), which is what part of what differentiates them from a senryuu. They were used pretty frequently in a lot of episodes last season, but a bit less so this time so far.

Where Lucoa and Ilulu are talking about a “right” here, the Japanese word is 資格 shikaku. While this usage is similar to “right” in English, the connotation is a little different as the word actually means more “qualification.”

Whereas a “right” is generally something you have innately in some sense (e.g. if you make art you automatically have copyright over it, you have human rights just for being human, etc.), a shikaku is something you earn (e.g. if you study and take a test for certification program and pass, you’re rewarded with a shikaku.)

Ilulu’s response to the question here is

そういうのは違う。小林がくれたあの言葉はなかったことにはできないから。

One way in which this differs from the English is that she’s not saying it would be right or wrong, but rather not the solution she’s looking for—because it would also mean undoing the words Kobayashi gave her, and that is something she doesn’t want to do, no matter what.

In contrast the English feels more like she thinks it would be wrong to do that, and even if she did it wouldn’t let her escape what Kobayashi said to her. (That would make more sense if Kobayashi had called her out on being evil, but that’s not really what went down.) An alternative wording might be something like:

“That wouldn’t solve anything. Besides, I don’t want to erase what Kobayashi gave me.”

This line is: 小林さんのようにはいかないなー

This is perhaps just my interpretation, but the English here sounds like Lucoa once convinced/helped Kobayashi in some fashion previously, is trying it again with Ilulu, but failing this time. (I don’t that’s ever happened though.)

In contrast, I think the Japanese is saying that Lucoa is trying to be like Kobayashi (e.g. when helping alleviate/solve Tohru’s various worries), and it’s not really working for her. I.e. “It’s not working like when Miss Kobayashi does it.”

Ilulu’s line about “I don’t want to ask Kobayashi about it because she’d probably solve it too easily" seems to support that reading; the dragons know Kobayashi as worries-solver.

The English here has Lucoa saying she’ll go talk to Kanna/Saikawa, and casually telling Ilulu to wait in the bathroom. But Lucoa doesn’t actually talk to the kids, and even if she was planning to, why would Ilulu waiting in the toilet do anything?

The answer is that Lucoa is actually telling Ilulu to talk (to an unspecified subject, assumed to be Saikawa, since she’s a human and thus someone Ilulu feels guilty about interacting with; Kanna she’s more fine with, as a dragon). And instead of “Go ahead and wait in the bathroom,” it’s more of a “Go wait in the bathroom and see what happens,” with the implication Lucoa is going to set something up.

And she does!

“I won’t lie about X, but Y is a different story.” This seems to imply she will still lie about Y? That seems a bit odd to me, especially when she just lied about X (those feelings) to Kanna/Saikawa minutes ago.

The Japanese says something a bit different though.

The core of the middle line here is 気持ちに嘘をつかない kimochi ni uso wo tsukanai. Because the に, the particle indicating “direction,” is attached unadorned to "feelings,” it is saying not “lying about X” but “lying to X.” This construction, to say one is lying to a feeling, is fairly common in Japanese media. It’s basically equivalent in English to lying to yourself about those feelings.

(for “lying about X” you’d change the に into a について or similar)

So basically she’s saying she won’t pretend, to herself at least, that she doesn’t want to play. But that’s a separate issue to whether she has, as she said before, the “right” to play after what she did.

You could maybe put it sort of like this:

“I won’t lie to myself about my feelings anymore. But that doesn’t mean I can act on them after what I did.”

I feel extremely silly even pointing this out, but the beam here is 尿意 nyoui, which is the urge to pee, not necessarily actually needing to pee. Hence why she seems to stop needing to as soon as she gets to the bathroom and walks straight back to the living room with Ilulu after they talk.

“Be deceived” here is not 騙される damasareru, lit. “be deceived,” but 騙し討ちにあう damashi-uchi ni au, which is like being hit by a sneak attack, being stabbed in the back, etc. In a fairly literal sense in this case too, as they’re talking about actual combat.

I mostly bring it up because it feels like there is not much difference between “being deceived” and “being tricked,” despite those being portrayed as polar opposites (deceived by hostile dragons, tricked by kind Kobayashi), so it might have been wise to differentiate them more in the translation.

E.g. perhaps “She had to change to avoid a knife in the back.” (though dragons don’t use knives, so maybe a claw?)

Another pretty minor point, but the “doesn’t know right from wrong” is 分別のない funbetsu no nai, where funbetsu means not so much “knowing right from wrong,” but a more encompassing sense of discretion and maturity.

I mostly bring this one up because it struck as me awkward to say Ilulu explicitly shouldn’t know right from wrong, since that would be going backward to her be okay destroying the city again. Instead it’s more that she shouldn’t need to feel weighed down by what’s “correct” or what she “should” do. One possible alt example:

“So go back to being a kid, and worry more about what you want to do than ought to do.”

(Lucoa also changes from a narrative tone to a more conversational tone at the end, in conjunction with the visual shift away from the flashback, so swapping the “she” to “you” might be appropriate.)

Note how Kanna shuffles the cards here. Depending on where you’re from, this may seem like an odd way of doing it (unless you watched Yugioh maybe). A lot of places with majority English speakers tend to use the overhand shuffle or riffle shuffle, but in Japan (and many other Asian countries) the most common shuffle is the one on display here, known as the Hindu shuffle.

~The More You Know~

The act of handing over a piece of candy like this has been used as imagery in other places in the show as well, though I’ll leave thinking about what it represents to you.

“Blanket” is futon, which is used to refer to both the “mattress” part and “blanket” part of a full futon, the traditional Japanese bedding (not the same thing as the sofa/couch mattress you might hear called a futon in some places).

I mostly mention because just “a blanket” kind of sounds like they’re going to leave them on the floor, but they’re actually going to get the equivalent of a guest mattress (+blanket) to put them to sleep in, as it’s late enough for this to turn into a sleepover.

Just as a bit of trivia, the word she uses for “onlooker” here is the same term as the “spectator faction.” In the manga Tohru interjects with “Aww, come on, why not Chaos faction instead?”

Also as a side note to this whole bit about Kobayashi wearing a maid outfit; recall this scene from early in season one, where Tohru found an outfit Kobayashi had bought and stuffed deep in a closet:

Relevant! Anyway, back to the actual episode now:

If you felt like this exchange felt a little disjointed, especially given Tohru’s tone of voice: the idea is that Lucoa is saying Tohru really goes to extremes when it comes to matters relating to Kobayashi, which is implying that it seems excessive to call so many people over for a relatively mild issue (not that she necessarily minds though). Tohru’s response is a slightly defensive “yeah I know, but thanks for coming over anyway.”

(They’re saying it in ways such that you have to read between the lines a bit though, so it may not come across as easily in a translation.)

The word for “cold” here is 水くさい mizu-kusai, basically meaning “watered down” (like beer etc.), and used frequently to refer to a person/actions/words that the speaker considers too reserved for the relationship they have with the other person.

So it’s similar to cold, but cold in the context of already warm relationship. If talking about a stranger or someone you don’t get along with normally, you shouldn’t use 水くさい; you can just say 冷たい tsumetai (lit. “cold”) or similar.

In this context you could probably have her say “No need to apologize, Kobayashi-san.”

Also I like how they swap around the honorifics (Miss, Lady, -san, -sama, etc.) based on the speaker (I think differentiating between dragons and native-Japanese-speaking humans?). I would say it works given the setting, but that’s just me.

The text there says “Money Street.” It’s probably obvious, but it’s based primarily on Monopoly, which is semi-popular in Japan (though not to the extent as say in the US).

Just some trivia, but the “sales pitch” for the game in the Japanese market is more that it’s an educational game that teaches investing and negotiation skills. (The origin of the game in general being an educational tool about exploitation of tenants by landlords, so not quite the same thing.)

Japan also has Momotarou Dentetsu (”Momotetsu”), which is a video game series that’s been around since the NES and is broadly similar to Monopoly rules-wise.

I just want to point out, amid all the riches, the bag of potato chips and other junk food in the back there.

Mini-trivia: the cardboard boxes in the background there seem to be a mix of the Amazon logo and the Seino Transportation logo, a Japanese shipping company with a kangaroo logo.

You probably noticed it without me pointing it out, but I enjoyed the fact Elma got corn starch* all around her mouth from the daifuku and then immediately got told to go play with the kids while the adults are talking.

*It may seem like powdered sugar if you’re used to donut holes, but daifuku, like most Japanese sweets (wagashi) generally, is not heavily sugared and not even particularly sweet by the standard of most “sweets” (which is part of the appeal for many). The skin of the daifuku is powdered with corn starch or similar simply to make it less sticky.

Kobayashi’s “do that” here is やろー yarou, which can mean “let’s do X” (which is a construction often used to tell/suggest someone to do something, without really including yourself in the “us”).

However in this case—especially given Kobayashi’s pronunciation and tone of voice—I think it’s actually a homophone of that, a form of 野郎 yarou, a word for “guy” with often negative connotations, like saying “son of a” or “asshole” etc.

The idea, I think, being that his immediate agreement of “Oooh, right I didn’t think about you wearing it,” comes with a heavy implication of “yeah you’re right, you couldn’t pull off something cute like that,” so she’s replying with a (mostly good-natured) “oh you fucker.”

This giant 完 kan means “the end,” used like “fin” at the end of a story or game etc. It’s also frequently used in “fake end” jokes. E.g. a show about a sentient zombie might start with the main character getting hit by a truck and dying immediately. The end! ...Except not, and they wake up as a zombie.

So here, the original goal was “make a maid outfit for Kobayashi to wear.” Then Georgie convinces Kobayashi that anything is a maid outfit as long as you are a maid at heart, so really, she’s already wearing one! The end! ...Except not.

Here’s some extra, probably needless, context on this “annoying”: it uses the word 面倒くさい mendokusai, which is basically used to describe something as annoying, a pain, etc. When used to describe a person like this, one of the ways it can be taken is specifically that the person is really fussy about details that others wouldn’t really care about—which describes Kobayashi about maids pretty well.

So just for clarity, it’s not necessarily “I became an annoying person who is a maid otaku,” and can be more of a “within the context of my maid otaku-ness I became annoying.” Just to kind of shed some light on the extent of her self-deprecation here.

The word Kobayashi uses for “helping with the housework” is 家事手伝い kaji-tetsudai, which is a noun* that means “a housework helper”... here, basically a more bland way for a native Japanese speaker to say maid.

Hence why Tohru reacts with “Oh, don’t call me that, call me a maid!”; Kobayashi went as far as to acknowledge her clothes as a maid outfit, but not quite as far as calling her maid outright. That’s our “annoying maid otaku” doing her thing.

*It can also be verbed.

These neighborhood notices, 回覧板 kairan-ban, ~lit. circular notice, are a method used by local governing organizations to distribute information or forms etc. For example, about an upcoming neighborhood event to pick up litter.

The general idea is that one person gets the notice, reads it, signs it, then goes and passes it to the next household in line. It saves paper versus sending everyone a thing in the mail, encourages interaction between neighbors, and is more likely to be read than a flyer/email, though some people consider them a pain and they generally feel a little dated.

The phrase for “piercing noise” is 劈く金切り音, tsunzaku kanakiri-on, ~lit. “ear-piercing sound of tearing metal.”*

“Was it that loud?” in the Japanese is a little different, そんな音してた?, meaning “was it making a sound like that?”

I’m mostly just bringing it up to say that the “Sasakibe’s cooking isn’t just loud, the sounds don’t even make sense” gag is alive and well this season.

*The “sound of tearing metal” phrase can also used idiomatically for some types of high pitched sounds, but I imagine it was chosen very deliberately here.

It’s probably obvious, but this is a reference to the music video of the OP for season one. You can see it on the official channel for the band, fhána, here.

The season two music video is here, and it seems to have decent English subtitles for the lyrics if you’re curious what they are.

The adjective here is ニヒル nihiru, an abbreviation of nihilistic. It can be used as actually “nihilistic” like in English, but it can also be used more colloquially to describe a person with dark vibes. It can almost be a compliment!

“Sleeping” here is 惰眠をむさぼる damin wo musaboru. Damin is not just sleep, but “worthless” sleep—not like a nap because you’re tired. Musaboru is a verb for ~gorging upon on something (often metaphorically, not just food).

The two words are somewhat frequently used together for, basically, lying around the house doing nothing all day. And not in a particularly flattering way, so it’s pretty funny for her to just be like “yeah I do that as a hobby I guess.”

It doesn’t mean the same thing, but it’d be like saying your hobby is loitering. Maybe could have translated as like “Hobbies? Vegetating.” or “Procrastinating?” or something, though I don’t know if those would have the right impact...

Kanna’s word for “idol” here is アイドル aidoru, i.e. idol in the pop culture sense.

Tohru’s word is 偶像 guuzou, or idol in the religious sense.

(Tohru swaps to the pop culture “idol” when she starts talking about Kobayashi though.)

Kanna’s “lost it” it here is 大変 taihen, a pretty common, almost generic word used as an intensifier (greatly, immensely, seriously, terribly, really, etc.) in both positive and negative ways. E.g. “thanks, you really saved me!” or “that was extremely rude.”

When used alone, like here, it usually implies something bad has happened, like something has befallen Tohru and/or she’s in some sort of trouble. Hence why Kobayashi immediately rushes home worried and bursts through the door like this—and loses her tension when she sees Tohru is fine, just... extreme(ly annoying to Kanna and Ilulu).

You could maybe say e.g. “Something’s wrong with Tohru!” to keep that double meaning open.

(”Lost it!” also makes sense for Kobayashi to be worried about, but the type of worry is somewhat different in that case; “oh god what is she going to do” vs. “oh god what happened to her.”)

The “lick” here is べろ bero, an onomatopoeia for licking that’s also used as slang for "tongue” (noun).

A bero chuu, as in the chorus here, is slang for a French kiss/deep kiss/tongue kiss.

~The More You Know~

The text here says “If your total assets are above one billion, proceed towards goal.”

Only billionaires can win...

Here is 私のものはカンナのもの, lit. “What’s mine is Kanna’s!”

This line is a reference to a catchphrase of the bully/antagonist in Doraemon, Gian: “What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is mine.”

His line, and character, is so well known it’s spawned the term “Gianism” to represent that sort of self-centered philosophy: everything is rightfully mine to take, even if you think you lay some claim over it.

It’s interesting that the inversion of Gianism, i.e. “what’s mine is yours,” is the only way Kanna and Saikawa are able to overcome the rules, beat the billionaire, and win the game.

Solidarity forever.

#maidragon #Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid #kobayashi-san chi no maid dragon #translation notes #anime

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youmustbestrongernow · 3 years ago

Note

Can’t wait to read more from you ♡

hey anon, thank you! so this ask came in around the time i was going to post the shotgunning scene, but i saved it until i had another snippet to post. and it took a little while, i was stuck on what to choose but this morning i remembered this little scene (not that little, but i cut it down as much as possible) and wanted to share it, just like the last one it's not really edited but i really like it so enjoy <3

David sighed and settled Matteo against his chest. He was tired, he was aching and all his muscles were hurting. He squeezed Matteo again. His horrible boyfriend was giving him no sympathy. Said he'd brought it on himself with all the dumb sports he insisted on doing. Still, he came to watch every practice, every game. David loved football, he'd been so keen to join and get back into it, but he would admit half the fun was showing off, seeing how impressed Matteo was every time. Matteo didn't give a shit about football, but he would watch David play for hours.

He shuffled now where he lay against David's chest, pulling back and leaning over him.

"Ok?"

"Bit achy, should've stretched more I suppose," he said.

He was pretty bad at that, too keen to get home and collapse in bed with Matteo. All he'd wanted to do was laze away the afternoon. It had been a long week, he wasn't just tired from football. After a lot of nagging from his mum, Laura, and yes from Matteo, he'd finally tried to knuckle down a bit, get back on track. Matteo had helped, but he sure was a pushy tutor. David was secretly impressed, he'd tagged along to watch him tutoring in German with Hanna. He was so good at it, somehow fun and yet a little stern when he needed to be, keeping everyone's focus on him as he went through grammar rules and vocabulary. Even David couldn't distract him. No, Matteo had sat him down at a table and made him practice his conversational German with the other students.

But he was back on track, his grades were up and his mum was happy and no longer threatening to send him back to his old school.

"I've been thinking," Matteo said, sitting up and yawning.

He pulled David up and started trying to stretch out his arms, trying to help ease the aches. David rolled his eyes but didn't stop him.

"Thinking what?"

"Jonas and Hanna are going away to some romantic cabin in a few weeks," Matteo told him, moving down to David's legs and repeating the stretches.

It did feel good, especially when he started kneading at the muscles. Who needed a sports massage, when he had Matteo?

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, and I thought we could tag along."

"As what third wheels?"

"No. I mean yeah technically, but we'd mostly ignore them, do our own thing, you know? Like a little holiday together. It'd be romantic," Matteo explained.

"Oh but..."

"Yeah," Matteo whispered, smiling nervously.

David blushed as he realised what Matteo meant, what he had planned. He stared up at him and returned that nervous smile. He was nervous, but he wasn't scared. Nothing about Matteo scared him, there was no need to be afraid, not with him. It was just them, everything was always good with them.

"I'll bring the condoms then," David said finally.

That broke the nervous tension and Matteo started to laugh. David joined him.

"What?" Matteo asked, letting David pull him back down for a cuddle.

That was how David knew they were ok, because they could always laugh about this stuff. It was silly, it was awkward, but if they could laugh about it they would be fine.

"My dad made me buy them, after our safe sex chat," David said, grinning.

"Why?"

"Safe sex," David said.

"No, why did he make you buy them?"

"Prove I was mature I think," David said, that was what he'd figured anyway.

"You use the self checkout?"

"Yep," David admitted, grinning and pressing a kiss to Matteo's cheek.

"I bought some online," Matteo said, giggling.

"We are winning at this mature thing," David said, high-fiving him.

"We should talk about it though, now not then," Matteo said.

David nodded. He was right, that would be the mature thing to do, so he pushed Matteo off him and they laid down next to each other. David pulled the blankets up over them.

"Ok?"

"Yeah," Matteo whispered, snuggling closer.

"So... is it awkward? This?"

"No, not really. It's just is isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's just us," David agreed.

It was them and it would be perfect, no matter how awkward it was. No matter how clumsy or bad they were at it. It was just them and it would be perfect. David pulled Matteo against his chest, running his fingers through his hair.

"So you know how I'm different?"

Matteo shrugged.

"You're allowed, you know me better than anyone, you know more about me than anyone.”

"I know, I know how you're different," Matteo admitted, blushing a little.

"And that's ok?"

"Yeah," Matteo said, nodding enthusiastically.

David knew he was sincere. Knew the differences in his body didn't temper his desire one bit. Matteo wanted him, that much was clear. It was written all over his face. He wanted him. David flushed even redder, but he held Matteo's gaze. Then he sat up and pulled off his shirt.

"Take yours off," he demanded, shuffling out of his football shorts.

Matteo frowned, but did as he said, stripping down to his boxers, then shuffling closer as he started to shiver. He stared at David, taking him in. Right now, even in his binder he felt no different from Matteo. They'd done this before, many times now, and it always made David feel so good in himself. He never felt strange or weird. He just felt comfortable. He was pretty sure being intimate with Matteo would make him feel even more comfortable.

Matteo ran his fingers over the hem of David's binder, tugging slightly and frowning.

"You ever think of mixing it up?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"It's always black with you," Matteo said fondly. "I was looking for your birthday last month, saw some cool spacey ones but I chickened out, thought you'd be annoyed."

"They're not clothes Matteo," David said patiently, he wouldn't have been annoyed, he wasn't sure how he would've reacted if he was honest.

"No I know. But... even if no one sees, isn't it nice to have something a bit cool?"

"Is that what these are?" David teased, pinging the waistband of Matteo's bright green boxers. They had a white flower print. A lot bolder than the clothes Matteo wore, reminiscent of the brightly printed shirts he kept hidden away in his wardrobe.

"I just like colours, they're fun," he said shrugging.

They were fun. David just smiled at him. He continued to rub his thumb over Matteo's waistband, making him shiver.

"I get to see them," Matteo said, reaching out to touch.

"It's not underwear," David reiterated.

"I do know that, but... you have to wear it, so why shouldn't you get to feel sexy?" Matteo reasoned.

David just smiled.

"Space is sexy?"

"Oh shut up David!"

David kissed him, loving how flustered he was getting.

"Would you think I was sexy without my binder?" he asked quietly.

"If you were comfortable, then yeah I think so, to be naked with you would be nice

"Nice?"

"Wonderful," Matteo said quietly. "It would be wonderful."

His cheeks got pinker and pinker and David blushed too.

"Ok?" David whispered, not letting go of Matteo, but not letting his hands wander any further either. Matteo was shivering but David knew it wasn't because he was cold.

Matteo just nodded.

"We don't have to do anything, at the cabin I mean. If we get there and we're not ready, we can just do this, just cuddle under the blankets.

"By the fire?"

"Yeah, that'll be nice," David said, pressing a kiss to Matteo's temple. Then he kissed him on the lips, again and again. Matteo rolled onto his back pulling David on top of him.

"I'm excited," he whispered, "nervous, but excited too."

David just kissed him, he kissed him again and again, losing himself in it, in Matteo. Matteo's hands drifted down to David's hips, holding on, and his eyes fluttered shut.

"David," he said quietly, but it wasn't a warning, it was soft and a little needy.

"Let me make you feel good," David said.

Matteo opened his eyes, they were wide, and filled with want. He stared at David and nodded. "Can I make you feel good too?"

David bit his lip and thought about it, he trusted Matteo he did. He stared down at him, at how genuinely he wanted to make him feel good. David nodded.

"Teach me," Matteo whispered.

"I will," David said, pulling Matteo close for a kiss. They would learn, together.

#i just felt like sharing something sweet and silly #oh i love these boys #they're growing up!#druck #druck fics #davenzi #childhood au

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hookingminor · 4 years ago

Text

three lessons (final) - mat barzal

a/n: here is part 3 and the last installment of the series! I know it’s short but it kinda felt weird titling it “three lessons” and making it more than 3 parts so I'm just ending it here lmao please lmk your thoughts and comments I hope u all enjoyed this

word count: 4k

warnings (18+): loss of virginity, smut

PART ONE / PART TWO

Mat didn’t call or text you for two weeks. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He did text you, but it was only to brush you off and make excuses every time regarding why he couldn’t see you.

In hindsight, Mat knew it was a terrible idea. Even now, intrinsically, he knew it was a terrible idea. But men were not known to be logical, and Mat was no exception.

So, he did the only thing he could think of: he ignored you altogether. Complete radio silence for two weeks.

The thing with ignoring you was that it gave him all the time in the world to think. He tried formulating ideas in his mind about how to ask you out, but every one seemed corny.

He contemplated just asking you out, but the threat of rejection scared him too much from pursuing that. He wondered if he should talk to your brother first, but Mat didn’t know how he was going to explain to his captain that he’d secretly been sleeping with his younger sister and now wanted to ask her on a date. That seemed like a recipe for disaster and a sure way to get his ass kicked. And lastly, he also considered just lying to you about your sexual skills just so he’d have a reason to keep seeing you. That one, however, risked offending you, and the last thing he wanted was to make you feel insecure or embarrassed.

Along with pondering about how to hang out with you outside the context of sex, he also thought about being with you within it.

Mat thought long and hard about what he wanted to do during your last time together if he was only given one more opportunity. Many of his thoughts included your hot, wet mouth wrapped around him, a fantasy that he had gotten himself off to more than he’d like to admit. Other thoughts included him taking you from behind, maybe pressed against his wall, or even bent over his couch.

Frankly, there were just too many things Mat wanted to do to you, but he knew he didn’t have much time left. And that was why he was relying on his own charm to win you over so he didn’t have to choose what he wanted to do.

This internal debate raged on inside his head for two weeks, and Mat still didn’t have a clue about how to carry on. On one side, if he came off too strong, he risked you pulling away and breaking things off. On the other side, if he strung you along, he feared you’d only see him as a casual hookup. The last one he was able to bounce off of, but he didn’t want to hide his feelings.

Mat liked to be straightforward with the people he slept with, and sleeping with you while also hoping for more wasn’t straightforward.

And it’s not like he could go to anyone for advice, which he desperately needed right now.

You contacted him a few times to follow up and see when he’d next be available, but it was clear he was either very busy outside of hockey or he didn’t want to see you. Your heart dropped a little when you thought about the latter because you really thought you had a good time together. But maybe that was all in your head and he experienced something completely different.

You hadn’t expected your first time having sex would be phenomenal to him, but you at least thought it would be tolerable. See? This is why you needed the help. You were never going to get good at sex if you didn’t even have someone to have sex with.

After his last rejection, this time saying his family was coming into town, you decided to drop the subject. You weren’t going to beg him for sex, and if he didn’t want to see you, he didn’t want to see you.

So why were you upset at the fact he was ignoring you?

You tried your hardest to push the negative thoughts to the back of your mind. He’d served his purpose and could move on with his life for all you cared. You could be mature about this. You could let it go and continue with business as usual.

But, you also felt the need to pick yourself up a little bit, which is why you decided on a girl’s night out. If Mat wouldn’t sleep with you anymore, you would find someone who would. You just hoped the alcohol would make up for the fact that you didn’t know what you were doing.

Was it a smart choice? No, but you stopped making smart decisions when you asked Mat to help you. What was one more bad choice?

You dragged your roommate from her studying to force her out with you. It was out of character for you to be so excited for a night out, but even though she was skeptical, she didn’t question your intentions.

Dressing yourself to the nines, you perfected every aspect of your look. Even if nothing happened from tonight, you wanted to make it count. After taking a few selfies, making sure to post them to your story, you ordered a car to take you to the club.

“Are you going to tell me what this is all about?” Your roommate asked as you adjusted your boobs in your dress.

“Do you really want to know?” You questioned back, knowing well she wasn’t one to talk about feelings.

“Not really. I don’t feel like playing therapist tonight, but it’s my roomie duty to ask at least,” she shrugged, slipping on a pair of boots.

“Then don’t worry about it. Let’s just focus on getting drunk,” you replied with a wide smile. She gave you an eye roll back but didn’t argue.

The second Mat stepped into the club, he knew something was off. He wasn’t sure, but the air around him felt charged with something… he just didn’t know what.

Less than ten minutes later, he figured out what it was. It was you.

He spotted you on the dance floor from his booth dancing seductively with your friend. Mat did a double-take, not actually sure if it was you or if the two weeks without you was finally playing tricks on his mind. He blinked once, twice, three times before he registered it was you.

“Already got your eye on someone, Barzy?” His friend asked with a chuckle, nudging Mat’s side with his elbow. Mat tore his gaze away from you quickly, not realizing he had been staring for so long.

Mat was thankful he was out with some friends rather than his teammates because he would’ve been seared on sight if someone saw him ogling you. Still, he didn’t want to take the chance any of them would recognize you.

“Nah, just looking around,” he said, laughing off the awkwardness.

Mat didn’t dare look back at the dance floor despite how badly he really wanted to. The last thing he needed was his friends chirping him about a woman this early on in the night, especially when that woman was you.

He waited about five minutes and for the drinks to arrive, the guys's attention focused on the beers instead of Mat, before he glanced back.

He found you instantly, but the lustful shock he felt initially was replaced with jealousy and resentment when he saw you were no longer dancing alone. His eyes focused on the pair of hands that were gripping your hips, only a few centimeters from your ass.

Mat tried to suppress the roiling feeling in his stomach when he saw you laugh at something the stranger whispered in your ear. His grip around the beer bottle tightened and he took a long swig, forcing himself to turn his attention back towards the table before it got suspicious.

His friends were talking about the latest Knicks game, but every word they said was going in one ear and out the other. The only thing Mat could think about was how you were less than twenty-five feet away dancing with someone that wasn’t him, how you were laughing with someone that wasn’t him, how you were letting someone touch you that wasn’t him.

He risked another look but regretted it instantly when he saw the same guy was still there.

“Alright, what’s up with you, Barz?” Someone called from the table. He whipped his head back to see who addressed him, finding all of his friends staring at him expectantly.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone I knew,” he brushed off casually, “What were we talking about?”

“We were talking about the game,” his friend said, putting emphasis on the ‘we,’ “You were staring at that little thing over there in the tight jeans. So who is she?”

“Just someone I know,” he muttered, taking another sip of his beer.

“You wanna go talk to her? Should we invite her over here?” His friend offered.

“No,” Mat said a little too quickly He closed his eyes in defeat, realizing he’d just given his friends exactly what they wanted.

“Is the infamous Mat Barzal jealous?” A crowd of ‘ooh’s sounded around the table. Mat flattened them all with a glare, but the smirks didn’t fall.

“Just go get her, Mat,” one of the guys said after a moment, “You’re no use to us being pissy all night.” The other guys nodded their agreement, gesturing for him to leave.

“Fine. You’re all assholes anyway,” Mat grumbled reluctantly. He set his nearly empty beer back on the table before pushing himself out of the booth, a chorus of whoops following him as he threaded his way through the crowded dance floor over to you.

Mat found you easily as he hadn’t taken his eyes off you the entire night. He walked up next to the guy who you were currently gyrating against and put a strong hand on his shoulder.

“Show’s over, buddy. Get moving,” Mat yelled over the music, nudging his head towards the door. The stranger turned to give him a funny look, but he quickly backed down when he saw how much space Mat took up. Mat wasn’t in the mood to play games right now, and the guy easily picked up on that.

You turned your head around when you felt the body you’d been dancing with for the past twenty minutes move. Your waist wasn’t unoccupied for long, a pair of hands quickly replacing the ones you’d lost.

“Mat?” You asked in confusion, stopping your dancing to fully face him. Mat kept your body close, though, hands dropping to rest on your ass.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, bending down to say it into your ear.

“I was having a good time,” you replied, annoyed at the way he just cock blocked you.

“With that guy? No you weren’t,” he said confidently.

“I was, actually. I have to talk to someone since you’ve clearly been ignoring me,” you said with an eye roll. He ignored the jab you threw at him.

“It didn’t look like you were doing a lot of talking.”

“I’m surprised you even know what talking is considering how little of it you do,” you snapped, pulling out of his hold.

Mat didn’t let you slip out of his reach, though, hand grabbing your wrist before you could get too far. He knew you were about two seconds from walking away from him, probably for good.

“Then how about we go back to my apartment and talk,” he said impulsively, almost on the verge of begging.

“Now you want to talk?” You retorted, crossing your arms.

“Or we can not talk?” He suggested, hoping the smirk he gave conveyed more than what he said.

“Final lesson?” You propositioned, raising a brow. Mat’s features fell quickly as his heart rate picked up. He didn’t plan on a final lesson, at least not right now, but he knew if you left tonight the odds he saw you again were slim.

“I didn’t really have anything planned yet,” he recovered quickly, “but tonight can be a free pass…”

“So not a lesson?” You countered.

“Oh, it’s a lesson,” he explained, “Just not our last one.”

“You’re playing with fire here...,” you trailed off, faking contemplation as you considered his offer. You knew the second he asked, you were going to say yes. Despite the irritation at the fact he was acting like nothing was wrong, your libido had a mind of its own as it remembered the last time his tongue was on you.

“Trust me, I know,” Mat chuckled, bringing your body into his once again.

“Take me home then, Barzal.”

Mat was already leading you towards the entrance before you finished your sentence.

You were pushing Mat backwards towards the couch when you stumbled through his front door. Your hands flew up to push the jean jacket off his shoulders as you both kicked off your shoes in the doorway. He never broke the kiss as the back of his calves hit the couch.

Mat plopped down on the cushions, hands guiding you to straddle his lap. Your fingers gripped the back of his neck as you deepened the kiss and entangled your tongue with his. You gently rocked your hips against his, feeling him harden beneath you. His hand squeezed your ass through your jeans as he audibly groaned into your mouth.

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” Mat breathed out when you pulled back and began pressing kisses against his neck.

“I stopped drinking like two hours ago,” you said into his ear, nipping at the skin.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure before…” he said, ending the sentence in a groan when you sucked harshly at his throat.

“Before what?” You asked, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

Mat’s eyes darkened as he bit his lip contemplatively, bringing his hand up to drag his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Get on your knees,” he stated, moving his hand to cup your cheek.

Your eyes lit up at his order, a sly smirk appearing on your lips. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to eventually getting him in your mouth, and the day had finally come.

Eagerly, you shimmied your body off his, lowering yourself onto your knees in front of him. Mat sat forward a little bit and reached down to grab the hem of your shirt. He lifted it over your body with ease, tossing it somewhere off to the side. You looked up at him with doe eyes, an innocent look on your face as you awaited further instructions.

“Fuck, don’t give me that look or this will be a very short lesson,” Mat cursed.

You didn’t change your features as you asked your next question.

“What do I do first?”

“Take my pants off,” he commanded.

You did as he said, moving your hands to unbuckle his belt and unzipping his jeans. Mat lifted his hips up slightly to help you tug his pants down, bringing his boxers along with them. You pulled them over his feet and tossed them to join your shirt. His cock sprung out at full length, resting against his abdomen. You leaned back on your heels after you freed him, pausing a moment to take it all in.

“Just a disclaimer, but I’m probably not going to be good at this,” you said with a light laugh, hoping your nervousness wasn’t showing.

“I promise just about anything you do will feel good,” Mat chuckled darkly, “And I’ll guide you through it.”

Mat could tell what he said did little to calm your nerves, so he leaned forward and brought your face closer to his. He gave you a sweet kiss on the lips and brought a hand to run through your hair to make you feel more comfortable.

“Just start slow, okay?” He reassured, pulling back to tug his shirt off. You nodded your head and tentatively brought your hand to grasp his dick.

Slowly, you squeezed your hand gently, twisting up and down as you familiarized yourself with him. Mat’s hands reached out to the back cushions, tightly gripping the fabric as you ran your thumb over his tip. You spread the precum over the head of his dick, bringing your thumb to your lips and sucking it into your mouth.

“Jesus, please do something,” Mat groaned, eyes dark as he watched you lick your thumb. He felt two seconds away from combusting and you hadn’t even put your mouth on him yet.

Taking him back in your hand, you held eye contact as you pressed light kisses on his thighs, slowly moving upwards. When you reached his base, you leaned in and licked a long stripe along the underside of his cock all the way to his tip. Mat’s jaw fell slack, but you didn’t give him time to recover as you closed your lips over the head.

You hollowed your cheeks against him, sucking lightly. His hand darted out to tangle in your hair when you sucked him and a deep moan escaped his lips. Mat’s fingers fisted your hair to softly encourage your timid movements.

“Move your hands with it,” he said breathlessly. You listened to his advice and moved your hand in tandem with your mouth.

Mat pressed your head down a little further, careful to not overwhelm you. You took a couple more inches easily, squeezing what you couldn’t reach at his base. When you drew back around his tip, you sucked your lips together tightly and Mat threw his head back against the couch.

“Holy shit,” Mat stammered, his hips instinctively thrusting up, “I’m close.”

You weren’t confident enough you could swallow your first time, so you didn’t take any chances. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the moment by trying to be bold. Withdrawing your mouth from his length, you finished jerking him off with your hand until Mat’s abs were tensing in front of you. A few seconds later he was coming, coating your chest as his eyes shut and mouth fell open in a silent gasp.

“Fuck, baby,” Mat moaned when he opened his eyes, taking in your swollen lips and freshly fucked face, “I can’t even express how hot you look right now.” Reaching down and picking you up by your waist, he pulled you back onto his lap as he kissed you deeply.

Not caring about the mess between you, Mat hitched your legs around his waist and carried you to the bedroom.

Tossing you on the bed, Mat rushed to the bathroom to grab a washcloth, lobbing it over to you to clean yourself off. He didn’t wait another second before nestling himself between your legs.

“My turn,” he smirked, attaching his lips to your dripping cunt.

Mat woke up the next morning to the sun filtering in through his curtains and the sound of your soft snores. He blinked his eyes open, gaze immediately falling down to the sight of you curled into his side and your head resting on his chest.

He brushed the few strands of your hair that had flown up into his face out of the way. Careful not to wake you, he very gently slid out from your grip and used his hand to place your head on the pillow.

Since he’d completely fucked up every plan he originally had by bringing you home last night, he had to think of a new plan.

Mat threw on a pair of sweatpants quickly and silently left his bedroom, making his way towards the kitchen. He figured he didn’t have much time before you woke up and noticed he was gone, so he had to work fast.

You woke up to the smell of something burning. Sitting up swiftly, you panicked, thinking the apartment was somehow on fire before you heard the clang of a pan in the kitchen followed by a loud “Shit!”

Confusion etching across your features, you rolled yourself out of bed and slipped on one of Mat’s shirts before padding out into the hallway.

The sight before you was one of chaos. You turned the corner and walked into a war zone. Mat was hunched over the sink, rinsing out a pan that had steam rising furiously into the air.

“What the hell did you do?” You asked with wide eyes, glancing at the amount of dishes that cluttered the counters. Mat jumped back in surprise, pan falling out of his hand and crashing into the sink.

“You weren’t supposed to be up yet,” he said hurriedly, turning his attention to the pan on the stove that has now started to smoke up.

“Were you trying to make breakfast?” You wondered, laughing at his disheveled state.

“Yes,” he replied, “I’m not very good at cooking.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” you chuckled, “Why were you making breakfast?”

“I was trying to impress you, but I can’t cook to save my life,” he explained, turning off the stove.

“Why were you trying to impress me?” Shit, he hadn’t even realized the slip-up.

“Uh, I was meaning to talk to you about that over breakfast,” he said awkwardly, turning to face you.

“Well, since you burned breakfast why don’t you just talk to me now?” You suggested, taking a seat at the counter.

Mat slowly walked his way over to you, stopping when he was standing across from you, only the counter separating you. His eyes focused on the granite as he cleared his throat.

“I was, uh, I was going to ask you if you maybe wanted to go on a date with me some time?” He asked sheepishly.

“Oh,” you replied, both in confusion and surprise.

“Oh?” He repeated, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“I didn’t expect that, is all,” you stated, a blush rising to your cheeks.

“I know we said no strings, but I really want to take you out and, you know, hang out with you without the sex,” he explained. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Not that the sex is bad,” he rambled quickly, “The sex is great, fantastic actually, I just think you’re cool and want to get to know you better.”

“Why me?” You asked, reiterating the same question he had when you asked him for his help.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “There’s just something about you, and I want to figure out what that is. I wanted to ask you out after our last, uh, get together, but I didn’t know how to ask you.”

“Is that why you ignored me?”

“I swear I wasn’t intentionally ignoring you,” he said, “I just wanted a game plan before I saw you again, but then I saw you last night and... yeah.”

Your lips twisted up at his last statement as you reveled in Mat’s sudden shyness. You hadn’t expected him to ever be interested in you like this, but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless.

Mat watched the smile spread across your face, but he wasn’t quite sure how to take it. It didn’t look like you were about to reject him, but he couldn’t be positive.

“You want to ask me on a date?” You gushed, hopping off your seat and walking towards him.

“Yeah, I do,” he smiled down at you, pulling you closer by your hips.

“How does breakfast right sound?” You offered, reaching up to wrap your hands around his neck.

“Right now sounds perfect,” he answered, leaning down to kiss your lips. You must’ve misread the situation because what Mat wanted to be a sweet peck soon turned heated as you deepened the kiss.

Mat moaned lightly when you pulled back, head leaning forward to chase your lips.

“Wait, we still have to figure out one thing,” you chuckled, turning your face so his lips met your cheek instead.

“What’s that?” He muttered.

“We have to tell my brother,” you giggled.

Mat’s head fell against your shoulder as he let out a disgruntled groan.

“Maybe we can wait a little bit until then?” He teased.

You laughed loudly at the way his brown eyes widened to give you what you assumed was his attempt at a puppy-dog look.

“Yeah, we can wait a while.”

#mat barzal #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl smut #hockey smut #mat barzal imagine #nhl fic #my writing

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