#if i can go into the semester with that at least i might be okay

[irisbleufic]

@eidetictelekinetic, I'd like to follow up on something we keep discussing in comment threads to my Devil's Minion stories, because I've found the paper trail in my archives. There's indeed something I wrote as an undergraduate ca. 2005 that I had forgotten about that underpins a common theme (namely: Daniel and Armand wondering what might've happened if they'd met when they were young in Armand's time and place, when he was still mortal) periodically haunting the dialogue across my various unconnected stories. I'm somewhat in disbelief that I can prove this exists, and I needed a spark of joy like this in an otherwise bleak, snowed-out week.

This is a ghost story in that the work I'm discussing here was written under my deadname, but I don't tend to shy from people knowing it. Still, it's times like this when pieces resurface that I realize I block facets of my former self so thoroughly at times that I do my writing history a disservice. This felt like knocking down a wall, and I'm really startled at what's sitting covered in dust on the other side. Mindfuck your characters long enough and you might even mindfuck yourself.

In the spring of my senior year at Wellesley, I took a poetry seminar with Frank Bidart. He didn't like my work much, which was a source of amusement to me; if somebody doesn't like my writing, I just dig in and crank up the annoyance factor by being even more myself. The number of professors and editors that I've gone out of my way to irritate in my higher ed and writing careers is vaguely embarrassing at this point, but that's another story for another time.

At the same time as I was in this poetry seminar, I had also overloaded my schedule with Medieval literature seminars. I'd done that for about four consecutive semesters, actually. The Early Modern and Medieval course offerings at Wellesley, at least at that time, were so numerous that you really could do about two years solid of nothing but that type of coursework. I was fluent in French at the time, so I was able to pull some unhinged shit like reading La Chanson de Roland in Anglo-Norman with minimal dictionary assistance while reading it in English in one of the courses, and then I started haunting the used bookstores in Harvard Square and digging up volumes of lesser known Anglo-Norman ballads and fragments, and there was this one book that focused on early surviving trobairitz poetry, songs by women from that period. There was one fragment that really, really haunted me. I don't know if I still have the book, that's the one piece in the documentation chain I'm still hunting down, but I have my translation of that fragment because I found the poem I wrote around my translation. That poem got published twice after I graduated; that publication history is neat in its own right.

So, the poem I wrote for the seminar is really the thing I want to talk about here. I had this short 10th-11th century trobairitz ballad fragment that I translated out of Anglo-Norman, and I was very excited about it, because it was very gay. I thought, hmmm, I'll write a narrative poem about a couple of nobodies set in that time period. Who are my nobodies? I'm picturing teenagers, just a couple of boys. They can't be more than sixteen or seventeen. Where are they? I'm also taking a class on crusader states at this point in time, and I'm extremely interested in various cultural migrations in and out of Italy and Spain (the good, the bad, and the ugly). So I just go, okay, I'll have them fleeing a noble household in Italy, heading for Spain. My head's entrenched in those places thanks to a history class; it gives me something to hang onto as geographical starting and endpoints. Why are they running away? Kid attached to the noble household has fallen in love with a stonemason's apprentice from somewhere a lot further abroad; they don't speak the same language, but since when has that stopped people from falling in love? Stonemason's apprentice wants to save the kid in a bad situation in the noble household, get him out of there. Yeah, let's do that. And I'll cover just the journey, not what happens before they leave or after. And I'll show what they run into along the way, and they'll hear someone perform that piece of the song, and one of them is able to translate it for the other as they gradually learn enough pieces of common languages to communicate with each other.

This poem was never going to be long; the poems in our portfolios for this class couldn't be long. The concept work behind it was much longer than the poem itself, as was the work I put into the fragment translation. This kind of storytelling in lieu of confessional poetry was going to annoy my professor. I knew exactly what I was doing with all of this: satisfying a storytelling itch, letting myself practice translation, being the inveterate fandom writer I already was by that point, just being generally obnoxious in my early 20s. It's a living.

I wrote the poem. It got workshopped in class; classmates loved it, Frank made faces and was barely polite about it. The written feedback in it on my final portfolio called it "pseudo-medieval pastiche," and I was so happy I could've framed that shit. I put the poem away for a few years and didn't think about it. I moved to the UK and started an MA program in Medieval Studies. My poems started getting published in SF/F/Spec publications. In 2009, I learned about a call for poems for a 10th anniversary special issue of a magazine called Mythic Delirium, and something about the themed call made me remember my pain-in-the-ass, labor-of-love portfolio poem, which was called "Journeying." I submitted it.

"Journeying" was published in Mythic Delirium Issue #20, which, (in)famously, also first featured a poem by the now-disgraced Neil Gaiman called "Conjunctions." If I'm honest, it's bizarre to have that as a major point of memory in this poem's first printing. Here's how "Journeying" looks in that issue of the magazine:

The italicized portion at the end is my translation of the trobairitz ballad. It's all that survives of one particular song that happened to be written down. It always amazes me that so few lines can express so much longing across so many centuries.

Flash forward a few more years to when I learn about Erzebet YellowBoy's brilliant Papaveria Press hand-stitched limited artbook editions of poems. One of my oldest friends, Paige (@dreambreathing) and I decide to collaborate as we've done so many times before: they did a set of two watercolor illustrations for the poem conceived as a fold-out frontispiece and backplate, and we pitched it as an artbook. Papaveria said yes. In 2012, "Journeying" was released as an edition of 18 of these little books:

You never see the boys on the road or under the tree overlooking those ruins (those ruins, those fucking ruins, I forgot) until you pan in. Don't get distracted. Look closer. Imagine me, @eidetictelekinetic, getting more and more spooked every time we talk about this recurring thing in the dialogue I'm writing across stories. Why am I doing this? Why is it familiar? And by the time we get to "Guard Your Heart," why do I have the feeling it's hit peak hilarity by the time Daniel's looking at those Talamasca photographs?

This is an awfully long punch line, but it's here. I wrote it, some version of it, some version of them, in another life. And for me it was another life, too, a life with the name of a girl I now barely recognize. Who is Adrienne? I know that Adrienne wrote this poem, but I no longer know her as well as I would like. However, I do know that she gave up almost everything she had to give me what I have now, and I'm the writer that I am because of her. I carry these characters with me because of her; she's the one who first read them.

(Also, here's another shout-out to @dreambreathing not just for being one of my best friends through all of this and one of the most talented artists I've ever known, but also for being the namesake of my current biggest troublemaker in Caldera. Love you, Paige.)

[yellowsubiesdance]

i was feeling fine this morning, and then the second i got into work i just felt so exhausted

signs you’re burnt out 🙃

[hey-op-just-kill-me]

…

[ame-to-ame]

love being nd and have the tism wolf Inside me be so drastically uncomfortable with uncertainty that i physically cannot think about school and having to deal w the unknown of that whole situation without losing 5lbs in 2 days

[birbtails]

.

[clonewarsahsoka]

i have emailed profs more times this semester than i have in possibly the rest of my academic career

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part one)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

At first, you cut your neighbor some slack. Over freshman welcome week, you figured it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect him to be quiet.

But it’s Thursday of week two, well past quiet hours, and the bass of his music is nearly making your bed shake.

You assumed the guy you’ve heard but haven’t seen yet would settle down once classes were underway. So much for that.

You have a lecture early tomorrow. It’s past midnight and his music and loud conversations are still drumming through your wall.

You’d call the resident advisor, but you’d rather talk to him yourself so not to risk any bad blood that could form from you snitching on him. You sigh, get out of bed, and decide to finally face him.

Rafe takes another hit of his joint, leaning back in his desk chair while three of his frat buddies talk about the past week of rushing.

He just got accepted into his top choice frat and he’s elated. And if he proves himself, he’ll be able to move into the Sigma Chi house next semester.

He probably will never get used to living in such a small room compared to the mansion he grew up in, but at least the frat house will be an upgrade.

“Dude, I think someone’s knocking,” Blake says, slapping Rafe’s knee.

“Oh, shit,” Rafe laughs, high out of his mind. He pauses the music and ambles out of the circle he’s been sitting in.

When he opens the door to see a girl in pajamas looking up at him, her arms crossed and her lips pinched, he’s taken aback for a second. Damn, you’re pretty.

“Hi,” you say, failing to force a smile at the man towering over you. The smell of weed hits you instantly. “I live next door. I wanted to ask if you could please keep it down?”

He grimaces as his unseen friends jeer behind him. You notice the Greek lettering on his t-shirt. A frat boy. Of course.

“You’re in trouble, Rafe!” one of them taunts.

He props a big arm against his doorframe, his blue eyes trailing down your body.

“Were we being loud?” he teases, purposely playing dumb. He’s obviously wasted. And is giving off strong fuckboy vibes.

“I have an early class tomorrow,” you try to explain. “Can you at least keep the music off?”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Listen… Rafe, right?” you say. He nods, his grin still so fucking smug. You tell him your name. “I’m not trying to ruin anyone’s fun, but-”

“That’s kind of what you’re doing,” Rafe interrupts. The way your face screws up when you’re pissed off is too cute for him to stop fucking with you.

“Don’t you have a frat house you can do this at?” you finally snap, gesturing to his t-shirt.

“You telling me I can’t be in my own room?” Rafe says, annoyance starting to prick at his skin.

“Not if you’re gonna keep people up,” you say.

“Turn around.”

“What?” you snap.

“I wanna know if I can see the stick up your ass from here,” he says.

His friends explode in laughter and he looks back with a wide smile.

“I fucking hate frat boys,” you mutter more to yourself than to him. Rafe brings a hand up to his chest in mock offence. “And you’re not allowed to smoke in your room,” you add.

“You gonna tell on me?” He cocks his head, his hair falling over his forehead.

“Yeah, actually, I might.”

A man appears behind Rafe with a charming smile.

“Okay, okay,” he drawls to you, gesturing to dap Rafe up. “We should get going anyway.”

“Nah, man, you don’t have to,” Rafe says, immediately disappointed that his fun is ending.

“It’s late,” he says. The man nods at you with a smile.

“Blake,” he introduces himself to you. “Sorry about the noise.”

“Thank you,” you say through gritted teeth, wishing Rafe had half the manners his friend does. He shuffles past you, followed by two other guys who say their goodbyes to Rafe.

“Happy?” Rafe mutters, all the playfulness from his tone now gone.

“Thrilled,” you say, turning to get back to your room.

The next afternoon, you’re on the phone with your friend, Liv, as you make your way back to your dorm room after a full day of classes.

She’s trying to convince you to come to a party at a frat house tonight. You’re exhausted after a long day, but she’s right that you need some fun.

“I can’t be out long,” you say on the phone, pushing your key into the lock. “I’m tired. And honestly, already kind of stressed out over school.”

“Maybe you’ll meet a guy who’ll take your mind off things,” Liv suggests. You snort.

“The last guy I hooked up was such a disappointment,” you tell her. You try to twist your key. It won’t budge. “I almost faked my orgasm, then was like, it’s not even worth it.”

Liv laughs.

“They should know when they suck,” she says.

You wiggle your key, your fingers starting to hurt.

“Exactly,” you say. “Plus, he wanted to try this position and… I don’t know, I felt too nervous to do it. It was just a failure all around.”

Finally, your key twists and make it into your room, clueless to the fact that Rafe heard everything.

That night, you’re at the Sigma Chi house, two drinks in, when you spot your neighbor playing beer pong across the room. Shit. You’re sure this is his frat.

You already told Liv about your encounter with Rafe, so you nudge her and point him out.

“That’s my fuckboy neighbor,” you say.

“You didn’t mention how hot he is.”

“Wait until he opens his mouth,” you tell her, earning a laugh.

Honestly, Rafe does look good. He fills out his t-shirt so well, his backwards hat pushing his hair out of his handsome face.

Rafe glances around the crowded room and catches you staring at him. Even though you irritated him the first time you spoke last night, heat fills his body once he realizes your eyes are on him.

You quickly look away.

Despite how much of a tight-ass he thinks you are, he’s glad to see you tonight. What he overheard you say on the phone a few hours ago has been weighing on his mind. And his ego.

He finishes up his game of beer pong and the alcohol rushing through his system convinces him to find you and ask you what he’s been mulling over.

“Are you lost?” a voice says behind you.

You turn to look up at Rafe, who’s ducking down so you can hear him over the music. You glance back at Liv, who raises her eyebrows and turns away to give you privacy.

“Or do you actually know how to have fun?” he asks. You sigh as you glance back at him.

“I do, without the expense of people’s sleep,” you reply, a sarcastic smile on your face. “Crazy concept, right?”

“I figured it out,” he says. “Why you’re such a tight-ass.”

“I am not a tight-ass,” you reply.

“It’s ‘cause you can’t get off. I heard you,” he says. He sees embarrassment wash over your face. You know exactly what he’s referring to. “And I’m the loud one?”

You look away, regretting that you didn’t stop to think your voice would float into his dorm room. Fuck.

“Does that actually happen?” Rafe asks. “Girls fake orgasms?”

Your eyes dart up to meet his and you scoff a chuckle.

“Yes,” you say. “What, you didn’t know that?”

Rafe shakes his head. Admittedly, he’s been wondering if any girls faked cumming with him since he overheard you. It’s kind of a blow to his ego.

“Ouch,” you laugh, regaining your confidence. “Let me guess. You thought you had a perfect track record.”

“How can you tell that a girl’s faking it?”

You take a sip of your beer and he can’t help but notice the enticing way your lips look glossed with moisture.

“Every girl’s different,” you say. “But for the most part, you can… feel it. You know… down there.”

You’re glad you’re drunk for this conversation. You doubt you could have it sober.

“How?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“I’m not helping you with this,” you say. “Especially after you were such a dick to me.”

Rafe smirks, looking down. You notice he has really cute dimples. Shit. The fuckboy is charming you.

“Let’s start over,” he suggests. “I have an idea.”

“You can have those?” you ask.

“I heard you say you were nervous trying a new position,” Rafe says, ignoring your chide. You look down in unease again.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he says. You look at him again, speechless over how forward he is. “We can help each other. You show me how to make a girl cum and how to know I actually did it. And I’ll let you practice whatever you want with me until you feel confident.”

You freeze for a second. Is he seriously suggesting you two fuck… to get better at fucking?

“Oh, you’ll let me?” you say, his proposal admittedly making your stomach numb with anticipation. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” Rafe says with a shrug. You realize he’s being totally and unabashedly serious. “What? Do you need time to think about it?”

You take another sip of your drink, the cold beer spilling down your throat.

He is insane. But he’s also attractive. Charming. Confident. Would it be so crazy to start hooking up with him?

You’d have the guarantee of an orgasm, without wondering if the guy you’re with cares enough about getting you there, and you’d get practice so you don’t feel as insecure next time you’re with a guy you actually like.

“I’m in, only if you promise to actually respect quiet hours from now on,” you finally say.

“Great sex isn’t a good enough deal?”

“Who’s to say it’ll be great?”

“So, I have to tiptoe around my own room,” he says, his temper flaring.

“If you consider not blasting music at night tiptoeing, then yeah,” you retort.

If Rafe wasn’t sure of it before, he is now: you’re hot when you’re pissed off.

“Fine,” he relents. He’ll probably be moving out next semester anyway. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens a new conversation. “Text yourself so I have your number.“

You hand him your cup in exchange for his phone. You send an eggplant emoji to your number. He takes a sip of your drink and you scowl.

“Are you that selfish in bed, too?” you say.

“You can let me know,” he quips. You roll your eyes at him and take your drink, giving him his phone back. Rafe chuckles when he sees the emoji you sent yourself.

“I will,” you promise. “I’ll call you out on everything you do wrong. If you can take it.”

“Okay,” he says. “Tonight?”

Wow. He’s eager. It’s kind of thrilling that he wants you this badly.

“Maybe,” you say. “If I’m not too tired when I get home, I’ll text you.”

Rafe’s chest tightens with excitement. His hot, mouthy neighbor is actually doing this with him.

“Sure.” Rafe juts out his bottom lip, nodding, as if this conversation is completely normal. He’s so casual about it. This feels unreal.

You give him a small smile. Probably the first genuine one you’ve offered him. Okay. You can admit to yourself that you’re looking forward to hooking up with him.

You stay at the frat house for another hour, hanging out with Liv and a few other friends you made, before you make it to your dorm just before midnight.

After changing into pajamas, and the nicest set of bra and panties that you own, you text Rafe: i’m home if you want to come over.

About ten minutes later, you hear a knock at your door. You open it to see Rafe standing with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his gray sweatpants.

You’re sure he knows how good he looks when you notice the outline of his length. He did this on purpose.

“Eager,” you say. “Were you already home?”

“I was quiet, huh?” he boasts, stepping into your room. He takes a second to soak in your space, eyes travelling over the way you’ve decorated.

“What the fuck? Your room’s bigger than mine,” he says.

“They’re all the same size.” You settle on your bed, glad he’s so comfortable about this, not making it awkward at all. Truthfully, the beer has worn off, and you’re kind of freaked out.

But this is what you’re doing this for. So you can stop being so nervous about sex.

“I’ll show you my room and you’ll see for yourself,” Rafe says. You watch him pace across your space to study the photos on your wall.

His eyes travel over the snapshots of you with your family and friends, your smile bright and pretty in every image.

With Rafe’s back turned to you, you take in the way his broad shoulders stretch out his white t-shirt. By the slight curve in his back, you can tell he’s not just lean, but muscular, too.

“How long are you expecting this… arrangement to go on for?” you ask.

“Until we’re both satisfied,” he says confidently, turning to meet your eyes.

“So, you’re aware you won’t be coming out of this with a girlfriend, right?” you assert.

While Rafe is attractive and charming, he’s also rude and narcissistic. You don’t want him to think you’re interested in him in that way. This isn’t a romance.

“Oh, yeah,” he huffs. “I’m not gonna be in college tied down to one chick.”

You scoff. Yup. Definitely no romance here.

“Maybe don’t call a girl a chick,” you say. “At least not to her face.”

“Right,” Rafe says with an easy laugh. He slowly steps towards you, his eyelids heavy as he looks down at you. “You have nice tits.”

You feel your skin burn, looking down at your chest in your tank-top. Rafe hardens the longer he looks at you.

“How sweet,” you say flatly.

Rafe smirks and sits down next to you, getting right to business as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are warm and surprisingly soft. He tastes like cinnamon toothpaste and smells like aftershave.

He’s a good kisser. But you expected as much. By his confidence and the fact that he prepositioned you the way he did, you can tell he’s experienced with girls.

You feel his hand slide up your body and squeeze your breast. You sit back, disjointing your lips.

“Slow down,” you tell him. “Do you always go right into groping a girl like this?”

“Yeah?” His brows furrow.

“Okay, some might like it,” you say. “But most want foreplay. You have to give me some time to get turned on.”

“Aren’t you already?” he asks. “We’re kissing.”

“We’ve been at it for like, a second, Rafe. Just because you’re…” You look down at the tent in his sweatpants. “Ready, it doesn’t mean I am.”

“So, what should I do?” he asks.

“Just… don’t rush,” you say.

Rafe nods and leans into kiss you again, his hand cupping your waist this time. He doesn’t usually like kissing that much, typically wanting to jump right into sex, but the way your tongue runs over his is actually sort of nice.

A few moments later, his fingers dip to pull your top off. When Rafe sees you in your bra, he swallows hard. Why does he feel like this is his first time seeing a half-naked woman?

Probably because he’s being graded, he realizes.

“Wow,” he breathes. You look down, scratching your neck. “Damn, you do get nervous.”

“What?” you say.

“When a guy says wow, take the compliment,” he states.

You shyly shake your head and pull him in for another kiss to brush past the moment. He catches on, pushing you back.

“I’m teaching you shit, too, remember?” he mutters. “Don’t be shy. You’re hot.”

“Alright,” you groan, tugging at his shirt. “Take this off.”

He smirks and obeys, hoping he at least partly got through to you.

When your eyes roam Rafe’s bare torso, your heart pounds harder.

You continue making out, and he eventually slowly unhooks your bra. He peels it off and slowly cups your breast, fondling and gently squeezing.

“Is this too hard?” he asks.

“No, it’s - it’s good,” you sigh. You remind yourself this is supposed to be instructional. “You should… um…”

“What?” he asks against your lips. “Stop being shy.”

“Play with my nipples,” you say, cheeks burning. “Some girls like that.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He looks down at your chest and softly pinches you, then rubs his thumb back and forth. “Good.”

Rafe is entirely hard now, your praise making him ache to be inside you. But he’s here to learn. He needs to go slower.

He dips to put his mouth on your chest, his lips locking around your nipple. You let out a shaky moan and he knows he’s doing something right.

Big hands gently press against your hips to push you onto your back. You settle on your firm bed, hands roaming over his smooth back.

He shifts to give your other breast the same amount of attention, coating your nipple in his warm spit. You bite your lip, feeling your stomach tighten in arousal.

“Can I go down on you?” he rasps.

You meet his eyes. Rafe realizes just how pleased you look already. It’s really gratifying.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He eagerly pulls down your bottoms and panties in one move, losing his breath when his eyes take you in.

“Goddamn.” His voice is strained. You’re already glistening and he wants to put his mouth on you immediately.

“Go slow there, too,” you say. “Kiss my thighs first.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding urgently. It’s satisfying seeing him listen to you like this, considering he doesn’t seem to care for rules.

Your thighs are so damn soft against his mouth. He peppers kisses up your skin. It’s taking all his willpower not to start eating you out right now.

Your breaths are shallow as he leaves languid, tender kisses on you. You feel his fingers stretch your lips apart and hear him sharply inhale.

“Now?” he asks impatiently.

“Yeah. Lick everywhere,” you say, “but pay the most attention to my clit. You know where it is, right?”

“I’m not that fucking helpless,” he mutters. You can’t help but laugh.

He lowers his mouth onto you and you tremble immediately. He laps at you for a few seconds, a groan escaping his lips.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You taste really fucking good.”

“Do you always talk like that?” you ask.

“Yeah, is it okay?” Rafe says, suddenly tense.

“It’s amazing,” you admit. “Keep doing it.”

“Yeah?” he says with a smile. He points his tongue over your clit, wriggling it over your flesh.

“That’s good,” you tell him. “Make your tongue flat, too. Switch between the two.”

You feel him nod against you, avidly taking every tip.

“And suck a little,” you tell him. Rafe didn’t think he’d like being bossed around, but the way you’re telling him what feels good and making him better at eating pussy is rewarding.

He starts to suck at your clit and the way you moan tells him everything he needs to know. He sucks harder and your breath gets shaky.

Rafe is desperate to see how the inside of you feels, even if it’s just with his fingers. He shifts to slowly dip a finger in your cunt and glances up to look at you.

“Can I finger you?” he says.

“Yes,” you nod. “It’s good to ask. Start with one.”

He slowly sinks into you, stopping at his knuckle. You’re so tight.

“Shit, baby,” Rafe whispers. “I know you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good.”

Your head is spinning. You’ve never had a man talk to you like this before. This is what you’ve been missing out on, hooking up with guys who didn’t care about your pleasure? It feels unfair.

He adds a finger, curling into you and feeling you clench around him as he continues to work your clit. You look down to enjoy the sight of his head between your legs, the tips of soft dirty blonde hair tickling your skin.

It’s intoxicating, being taken care of the way you want to be.

Rafe’s jaw starts to get sore, but your noises give him the drive to keep going. Eventually, your thighs press against your ears.

“I’m gonna cum,” you mumble. “Don’t stop.” Rafe’s stomach twists with excitement, fully alert and eager to take mental notes.

Your breath stops, your muscles tense, and your walls flutter around him as you meet your peak. Sparks of pleasure fire throughout your body and you tug at the roots of his hair.

He keeps sucking and licking and pumping his fingers until you shuffle beneath him, overstimulated.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Good, that’s good.”

Rafe sits up, his lips wet with your arousal. You look happy, yet somehow kind of guilty. He makes a mental note to figure out how to make you unashamed for having a sex drive.

The way you’re panting is making him so fucking turned on that it hurts.

“I need to fuck you,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, hoping he’d say that. “Do you have something?”

He nods, pulling a condom wrapper out of his pocket. He takes his pants and boxers off at the same time and he springs out.

You never thought you’d think a cock could be perfect, but there’s no other way to describe it.

He leans over you, looking down as he lines himself up and slowly sinks into you. You watch him shut his eyes with pleasure, but when he opens them again, you look down at his body.

“So shy,” Rafe teases, his voice thick. “Make eye contact.”

You listen to him, meeting his eyes. It adds an entirely new level of pleasure and vulnerability, looking at each other while he starts to rock in and out of you.

He starts to thrust faster, revelling in the way your tits are bouncing with his force. His strokes are deep and powerful and you whimper over how nice it feels.

His balls feel tight already. He never cums this fast. There’s something about you that’s making his body react like this. But knowing you already orgasmed, he doesn’t let himself overthink it.

“Feels good?” Rafe asks with amusement in his tone. You moan in response. At least he doesn’t need to improve on this part.

He goes harder, losing his rhythm as he reaches his climax, trembling over you. The way he breathes through it is so unbelievably hot to you.

Once Rafe slows down, he collapses on top of you, his chest pressed against yours.

“How was that?” he mumbles.

“I don’t think your ego needs to get any bigger,” you say breathlessly. “But that was good.”

“Just good?”

You laugh. Okay, it was fucking mind-blowing. He doesn’t need to know that, though.

“Yup,” you say, patting his shoulder. “Let me up.”

“What - what could I have done better?” he asks, sitting up off of you, pulling out. “I listened to everything you said. I swear, I never cum that fast.”

You smirk. He’s desperate for the praise.

“Fine,” you say. “It was amazing, okay? Don’t let it get to your head, frat boy.”

It definitely gets to his head. You can tell by the way he’s smiling.

“What position did that guy want you to try? Wanna do it?” he asks. You shake your head in disbelief. He could probably go all night.

“Next time,” you say, exhausted, your muscles weak.

Rafe’s disappointed, but he doesn’t show it.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Next time.”

part two

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[bee-wg]

Year 3:

Now that I think about it, football has been a constant in my life for five years now. I’m not sure if I enjoy football anymore; it used to be about the fun we have passing the ball, now it’s all about the stats or the perfect form. 

I stood up from the bleachers to hand Brad his towel.

“I’m going to leave the team, Brad,” I said.

“What? Where did this come from?” He said frantically.

“Everyone knows I’m still on the team because you’re the team’s captain now,” I said.

“I don’t want to cause tension between you and Coach. There’s nothing I could do wobbling around the field anyway,” I added.

“Dude, you know I started playing football because of you, right?” Brad said.

“Bradley, relax. I’m not dead. You can come over to my house whenever you want.” I said.

“Theo can make you some lemon pudding cakes if you want to come,” hopefully this will calm him.

“Fine. Just so you know, I’m not happy about this,” he said, sounding like a brat.

“Okay, got it. Have fun at the party,” I chuckled.

“I won’t. I’m going to make the DJ play Lana Del Rey,” he said before entering the locker room.

There might be an oversight of me quitting football.

It’s literally the reason why I quit. I don’t know why it never crossed my mind.

How the fuck am I going to lose weight now?

“Maybe I would’ve thought it if the word, “exercise” was anywhere on my to-do list this past year,” the voice from the back of my head said.

Shut up, rational thought. I was just a little too cocky, that’s all.

My mind spins around the paths I could take to shed the fat.

Back to the gym for the bodybuilders to laugh at me jiggling like a puddle of slime on the treadmill.

No. Hard no.

Stop eating whatever Theo puts in front of my face.

Productive, but I’d rather die than miss out on the joy of the world.

Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.

No? No, actually it might just work.

My thumbs got to work. It took me an hour to choose a profile picture that represents me. I could go for a vacation photo by the beach, or the classic black and white moody gym pic. Except, I don’t have a picture of myself on my phone, so I chose the picture of an orange cat eating a banana.

With my camera set up, in my favourite green tank top. I pressed record.

It was an embarrassing experience editing myself, watching my belly sway every time I made a movement. In the end, I closed my eyes and uploaded the video.

“Oh! First comment already.” I said.

“Look at those milkers spilling out the tanks!”

3. Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.

The following weeks consisted of me eating my feelings. At least half of my classes are online this semester. I can be embarrassed in peace.

The pounds kept creeping up with each spoon of ice cream down my throat. In the blink of an eye, I am dangerously close to 300 pounds.

I finally worked up the courage to ask during a normal family dinner.

“Honey, what happened? You’re not eating as fast as usual. Is Theo not cooking enough?” Mom asked.

“No, Mom, I just…I just hope you guys can ease up with your little cooking competitions.”

“Oh honey, you know Theo and I will stop with the food whenever you ask.” Mom tries to reassure me.

“No! Obviously don’t stop the food. It’s just that I’ve been blowing up like a pig and I don’t know what to do about it.” I said.

“I didn’t know you were sad about it. I just want my family to be happy, you look the happiest when you eat,” Mom said

“It wouldn’t have helped when you guys lost for the past two years,” Mom added.

“Well, Dad likes to eat better, and no one eats like him,” I replied. 

“I’m sure my cooking was the reason we won. David is a gym teacher, he walks off the food easily,” Mom said.

“Theo is a professional though, no offence but no one on the planet cooks like him. I’m sure football was the reason we lost,” I said, trying to talk some sense into her.

Theo stares at us with wide eyes.

“Jacob, I’m sure you didn’t mean it,” Mom said with a blank face.

“You know what? Keep doing your competition, this time again next year we’ll see who’s the winner,” I said.

I am clearly a failure at losing weight. The only thing I’m good at is eating. If I’m going to gain weight anyway, I’m going to go all out and win this shit once and for all. Once this is settled, I can get back to normal. Not wanting to disappoint Theo when we lose again was probably the thing holding me back. I can’t wait to eat all the delicious things Theo is- I can’t wait for this to be over.

“Alright, Jay,” she turned to Theo and said.

“Theo, my boy. I’m looking forward to seeing the results next year,” Mom said with a determined smile.

Everyone knows not to mess with Mom when she has that look. Even then, I feel like we could still win. Theo’s food is hypnotic already when I am restrained; imagine what it will do to me when I’m going all out.

“What’s going on again?” Dad asked with cheeks full of pasta.

“Don’t worry baby, you just need to eat a little more next year,” Mom answered.

“Okay, as long as I get my lasagnas,” Dad said.

Later at night, struggling to sleep, I contemplated on the bad decisions I’ve made. This one might take the crown to be the stupidest thing I’ve done. Yet, I don’t regret it.

“You didn’t have to stand up for me,” Theo said.

“It’s the least I can do when you wake up early to prep for my food, or go off on the weekends for groceries when you could’ve been doing anything else,” I explained.

“Thank you so much, Jay. You don’t know how much this means to me. My family wanted me to do anything other than cooking, but you guys have been nothing but supportive,” he said.

I smiled at the ceiling. The gremlin is nicer than I remember.

“Now, I won’t allow you to slack anymore with the amount you’re eating. Not until the competition ends.”

Huh?

Theo had stuck to his word and increased the amount he was cooking. I am now eating the amount of three people in each spread-out meal, still lacking behind Dad’s impressive five person’s amount per meal. So I have been playing catch up with him this entire month.

I realized quickly that I had underestimated the gap between Dad and my appetite. In the last few years, for the most part, I have been eating whatever I want, leaving the rest to Dad. With the exception of eating for the team once a week, I have been slacking. That was quite a hard pill to swallow. I’m 300 pounds, yet not doing a good job as a fatass. How is that possible?

So far I have gained about 23 pounds in the past two months. Normally, I would freak out and have a breakdown in bed because I’ve gained more than my freshman year in two months. Right now with my messed up head, all I can think about is how far I am behind. If we lose this again, it would be once and for all, and I would never let myself live this down. Theo deserves better with how good he’s been treating me.

With my new bulk, the stairs have been an increasing challenge. So, a few weeks ago I moved downstairs to a tiny guest room that was converted to a storage room.

The moment I moved down, I could hear Theo’s voice yelling, “Yes, Finally! Goodbye insomnia,” In my old bedroom. Before, I would’ve yelled for the brat to shut up. Now, with my stomach full. I just wanted a nap in peace.

It took me no time to adjust to the new arrangement. With more time home from all the online classes, I get to be as lazy as I want. Dad has a similar arrangement at home. He retired from being a high school gym teacher and football coach, now he tutors history at home. He also abandoned his hobby of brewing in order to laze on the sofa all day.

On weekdays, Theo would leave an abundance of food for me to consume with a list of how I should eat them to expand my capacity. The weekends are like heaven. From the moment I woke up, Theo would prepare delicious appetizers and pancakes for me. From then on, I would have a constant stream of food flowing into my mouth every thirty minutes. Sometimes, I would move my hands and my mouth would start to chew unconsciously. Alarming, but helpful. 

My belly started to expand outwards on my lap each day as I sat in front of the computer. The arm rest would feel more snug when I move around.

I have now discovered the perks of being a fatass. I can explore things I never had time to do, like the anime Brad has been begging me to watch, games I always wanted to play. Best of all is to experience all of these without moving an inch. These are the things I would definitely look back on with fondness when the competition ends.

***

Today is my rare outing of the month; the bus is late again but I don’t blame them this time. The downpour of rain is gathering at the clogged sewer, creating a puddle. People are supposed to grow out of stepping in puddles when they’re kids. These undeveloped assholes apparently didn’t. Several cars saw the puddle and decided to splash it straight to my face.

It’s fine. It’s all fine. I will feel better later.

I walked a small trail after getting off the bus.

Great. The angels decide to stop peeing from the heavens when I’m about to get inside.

Dad is buying a new SUV, maybe I can drive it next time. It’s too big to sneak off though.

I thought as I skipped through the stone pathway. The usual grass is covered by the water, creating a small pond.

“Annyeonghaseyo,” I said to the door cam.

After pressing the doorbell several times, it replied.

"안녕, fuck boy. Back so soon?" Number Seven said.

“Yeah, yeah. Just open the damn door,” I said, trying to hurry the fucker.

Number Seven’s face appears in front of me.

“You’re soaked! Come on in,” he said.

His house appears to be orderly. Clean. He must’ve had another fatass here not long ago.

“Woah, you look—Wait, let me guess. Another fifteen pounds since last time?” He asked.

“Come on, let’s cut to the chase. I really need it right now,” I urged.

“Hahaha, not even a shower. Desperate much?” He said.

I walked inside his bedroom, dimmed the lights and took off my shirt.

He walked towards me. Grabbing me by the belly hang in one hand, he pulls down my underwear, causing my ass to vibrate.

“Fuuuuck, can you take it out first?” I asked, trying not to moan.

“Sure, you think you’re ready for me today?” He asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” I answered. 

He slid his hand behind, right down my ass crack and slowly pulled the vibrator off. I applied it before leaving home, without accounting for the possibility of the bus delay.

“Mmmmph, fuck,” I groaned.

I’ve been training towards today for a while. In the beginning, I would come to his house and he would suck me off. If I’m feeling experimental, I would suck him off. It stayed like that for about a year and he never complained. Then I asked him for more. He would start fucking me between my moobs or between my ass but never enter. One day, I told him I was ready for him to start fucking me.

Big mistake.

He’s a manwhore for a reason. I didn’t think an 8-inch would be so hard to take. How the girls and twinks take them in porn is beyond me. It was painful when he entered, even when he said he had “loosened my hole” with his fingers. I shouldn’t have believed him, the fucking thing was massive.

After the incident, he gave me small dildos and vibrators to get used to it. We eventually worked our way up the scale until the one he’s holding now. Why did I do all this work to have a men’s dick in my ass? Who knows. I have already accepted that I’ve lost it.

He sucked on my nipple suddenly. The sensation took me by surprise.

“Dude, some warnings please,” I asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Those tits are just so plumped. Your nipples have grown larger than my thumbs now,” he said, about to continue.

“OKAY, I get it. Can you get to work now?” I asked.

My boobs are what everyone thinks about when they see me these days. I’m sick of it.

“Hahahaha, can’t wait to be fucked, my pig?” He said before pushing me down the mattress.

I held my belly to stop it from jiggling. 

He raised one of my legs and opened the bottle of lube with his teeth.

“There’s something by the pillow. Put it in your mouth. It will distract you and dull the initial pain,” Number Seven instructed.

I reached out to grab a—frosted pound cake?

I’ve never seen people doing this in porn, but I’m smart enough to know not everything in porn is real. 

With my mouth full of cake, I spread out my legs, trying to relax so I don’t end up like last time.

He pushed two fingers in, slowly massaging me, then three fingers to stretch my hole. When the frosting melted in my mouth and I finished the chunk of the cake, he signalled me that he was done.

Another piece of the pound cake fills my mouth when he aligns his cock to my hole. He was right, I was fully consumed by the sweetness to notice any discomfort. I quickly swallowed the cake so he could proceed. 

It was unbearably slow as he entered. I don’t understand what all the fuss is about with people bottoming.

He kept asking for reassurance. At this point I just want him to st—

“A-ahhhh oh shiiit!” I moaned.

“Fuuuuuck, what the hell was that?” I screamed.

I must have been too loud and spooked him.

“Are you alright? Sh-should I call an ambulance?” He asked.

“No! Don’t stop, please,” I begged

“Okay, just so you know, I’m not all the way in,” He said.

How? This is already longer than any toys I’ve put in there.

“Gnghhhhh~” I moaned as he thrusts all the way to the bottom.

He kept a steady pace all the way in then almost all the way out, leaving me feeling empty.

“Hurry! Faster,” I asked, almost in tears.

He looked at me with a devious smile and thrust right into the spot.

“Mphn- Yes! Keep going,” I urged.

Every small movement rubbing my G-spot feels like masturbating for hours without release.

He thrusts quicker with more force, causing my belly and moobs to shake violently. 

I try to stabilize my belly with my hand before trying to reach my throbbing cock.

“Help, I-aghh fuck, I need to touch my dick,” I asked.

“Let go of your belly, fat boy. Or I’ll stop,” He said.

Immediately, my belly returned to wobble violently.

“I can’t believe you turned into such a pathetic horny mess in such a short time,” He said.

”Come on, Seven. I just need you to hit that spot. Please, I’ll do anything!” I begged.

He keeps deliberately missing it. I need to be fucked there!

“Keep your hands on your nipples,” he ordered.

The over-sensitive nipples drive my weeping cock into a frenzy.

Fuck, I need to touch my cock right now. If only my fucking belly is not on the way.

“You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were the kind of jock to gain a beer belly in college, and not get fat until you turn thirty,” he said, before ramming straight into my prostate.

“Fuuuuck yeahhh,” I said unintelligently. 

“You are much more of a pig than I realized,” he said, thrusting straight into it again.

“Helll yeahhh,” I said, trying to rob my ass to his dick.

“How do you feel seeing your bubble butt balloons four times the original size?” He asked, followed by another thrust. 

“I fucking love it! I love how it wobbles around whenever I walk!” I said, moving my jiggling ass back to his dick again.

“How do you feel seeing your abs growing before your eyes, knowing you could stop it if you just stop eating?”Another thrust.

“I can’t help it! I love eating too much!” Maybe I am meant to be a fat ass.

“Right answer. Now you’ll get your reward,” he said and sped up, hitting the spot perfectly every time.

I imagine his face to be someone else, someone far from my league.

My cock rubbed against my sensitive underbelly, and I shot out jets of cum for what felt like forever.

As white clouded my vision, a euphoric relief spread over my body, melting me into the mattress.

“You passing out again, fuck boy?” Seven asked.

“No, just enjoying the bliss. I can’t believe so many men in the world are missing out on this,” My hole already feels empty. How am I going to go back from this?

“Aww man, I’m all sticky and shit,” I examined my body, cum shots and rain definitely don’t mix well together. Some of them even got between the fat folds. I swipe my finger in between the fat. “Oof, I stink too.”

Seven looked at me and signed. “You’re somehow still a stupid jock inside.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“I got you the fast food you asked for,” he said.

“Yes!” I rushed to the kitchen.

Ignoring his stupid laugh, I microwaved the burger and fries.

The breeze of the air conditioning reminds me of something.

“Shit, I ran out here naked.”

When I ran back, he had already put my clothes in the dryer, and I got into the shower.

When I got out, Seven brought me an old shirt I left here. It fits me like a glove with half my belly exposed. He stopped laughing when I was about to throw myself on him, then brought out a shirt with the Flash’s symbol on. Probably from another fat ass he fucks. The shirt still looks painted on, revealing the shape of my nipple and the dent of my belly button. At least he’s driving me home.

***

Staying at home has been a life-altering experience. 

The only time I ever move is going out of the bed to the desk, or to the bathroom. All I have to do is sit back, relax, and eat some fried food. 

With more time with myself. I’ve realized how much I dislike all the people in school that only approached me because I was one of the football jocks. I could’ve been anyone. Now, I am me. Not a worry about whether or not I’m muscular enough like other jocks, just a bigger Jay.

Sitting beside me, Dad scratched his belly and released a belch without a care in the world. He has adapted to fat guy mannerisms quickly. I’m catching up too. Today is movie night, usually we have pizzas and beers. We started this when the football season came, he asked to skip it. It was the first time we’ve skipped watching a Super Bowl season. I guess I’m not the only one losing interest in the sport. We decided to watch the Lin-Manuel Miranda Monkey movie instead.

Being on the couch with Dad made me realize I was getting closer to my goal. I can’t wait to see the results.

***

“Hell yeah, my man, you can do it!” Brad said, slapping my shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” I asked

“You said I can come in whenever I like,” he replied.

He’s been breaking into my house for no reason, just to stay on the second floor the entire time doing god knows what.

“I’ve brought some beef jerky here to celebrate,” Brad said.  

The scale has been set up, we’re only waiting on Mom. They’re doing some last minute catch up; mom is using a funnel to pour some milkshake in him. I am not concerned though, sticking to Theo’s strict diet every day has not been easy. I have to eat until my stomach is fully bloated. Every morning, I watch my belly deflate a little less, every evening, it bloats even further. 

“Don’t worry, Jay. We’ve got this,” Theo assured me.

“By the way, what are we doing again?” Brad asked.

Dad came out, looking absolutely massive. With Mom on his side, he stepped on the scale.

The numbers keep going up and don't seem to be stopping.

300-350-392-400-443

Holy shit, Dad gained a hundred and forty pounds this year. 

With more uncertainty, I took my step on the scale.

“Woo-Hoo, Jay man, you got this!” Brad shouted quietly.

I try to look under to see the number, but my belly is too big for me to see the scale.

Theo stepped closer and read. 

“Four Hundred and fifty yes!” Theo cheered.

“I won? Yes, finally!” I said and did a little jump.

The scale made a “Pop” noise.

“Oh! Sorry, Mom. I know this is really expensive.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. We need to upgrade anyway,” Mom said, then she walked towards Theo.

“Congratulations Theo, you made me pull out every trick in my book. It’s so nice seeing you improve so much in front of my eyes, in terms, you pushed me to improve too,” Mom said, then hugged Theo.

“I can’t believe my boy is bigger than me now. Excellent work, Jay!” Dad said and hugged me, too.

Last time I was bigger than Dad I had sculpted abs, the body I dreamed of. This time, I’m almost three times the size as I was, fully covered with fat. Yet, I feel less empty inside.

“Thank you Dad,” I said, hugging him back. 

After all this time, I finally have a body I like being in. The belly doesn't look so wrong on me anymore.

Chapter 4 ->

[4unnyr0se]

❥ apple cider | tobio kageyama

warnings: timeskip! university! tobio, f! reader, she/her pronouns, virgin! tobio, cunnilingus, tit-sucking, hickeys, sub! tobio, cowgirl position, praise, needy! tobio, unprotected sex, hinata mentioned

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 6.2k

a/n: okay yeah lowkey i lost the plot a little bit but its tobio soo... also sorry if he's ooc i tried so hard

❥ song: apple cider - beebadoobee

Biology class was a pain in the ass, no matter what your major was. Whether it was an elective course or required for a biology major, it was god-awful. At least, it was god-awful for Tobio. He needed it for a science credit, and that class was the only one that wasn’t open. And it was a 6 PM-9 PM lecture, which was the greater of the two evils. So basically, he got the worst time slot for the worst possible class. And all because he slept in once class registration started for college sophomores. It's totally unfair. 

But it wasn’t the stupidly long and late classes that pissed him all the way off, no. It was his annoying, stuck-up, sickeningly smart classmate who was the textbook definition of a know-it-all. Literal and metaphorical; you even dressed like one. Neck-length black turtlenecks with round nerd-like glasses and ankle-length skirts in tones that complement your skin so well. He hated you. He hated how you were better than him. And you were so smug about it. Your stupid little smirk would grace your features every time the professor praised you for getting another correct answer. Or when your professor praised you for “Breaking the curve yet again, spectacular! You’re going places.” God, that pissed him off—little miss brilliant, perfect you.

So one could imagine the rage he felt in his stomach when your professor made the both of you stay after class, well after the other students left, chattering about how lame the homework was and what parties were happening on Friday. 

“Tobio, I asked you to stay after because your grades are…less than satisfactory,” your professor pushed up her glasses, gesturing to the piles of papers with his name scrawled out in chicken scratch. “I’m worried about your performance. If you continue on the path you’re on now, you’ll probably have to retake the class. That means you’ll fail three credits short and might have to graduate later than the others.”

Tobio shrugged, shoving his hands in his loose jeans pockets. “I can always take a class in the summer, can’t I?”

Your professor shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. I don’t work during the summer, and I’m the only professor that teaches this biology level. Besides, I know you have volleyball to attend to when you aren’t in class. It must be stressful, dealing with sports and academia.”

Tobio didn’t know what academia meant, but it sounded like school. “So, what? Are you going to tutor me after class or something?”

“Oh, no. As a professor, I cannot help students past my office hours. That’s why I’ve appointed my best student to tutor you until your grades are satisfactory,” she gestured to yourself. “She’s maintained a high ninety throughout the semester, so she should have no problem tutoring you.”

You waved at Tobio, smiling softly. 

Tobio sighed and rolled his eyes. “No offense, professor, but is there any way that I can get somebody else to tutor me?”

“Do you two not get along well?”

“We just don’t know each other, that’s all. I think Tobio is just shy,” you stood beside him. “I promise I’ll do my best to help you improve your grades, honestly.” you flashed him another soft smile.

He thought the show you were putting on for your professor was impressive. “Fine, whatever.”

“Great!” your professor happily clapped her hands together. “In that case, why not start tutoring him tonight? I’m assigning an online quiz tomorrow that isn’t open note, so I hope you’ll score better than 60% this time, Tobio.”

You covered your chuckle with a false cough. His highest grade was a 60%. Oh, that’s pathetic. Adorably pathetic. “Yeah, we can walk to the library. Unless you have something else that you need from us, professor.”

Your professor shook her head and bid you two off, closing the classroom doors behind you. You and Tobio walked awkwardly to the library, his blue eyes glued to the ground below you.

“So, you play volleyball?” you tried to break the silence. He didn’t respond. “Did you hear me? I asked if you play volleyball.”

“Just shut up and walk. You hate this as much as I do. Stop pretending to like me. Our professor can’t hear you. No need to suck up anymore.” he brushed his black bangs out of his face.

You were taken aback by his words. “Okay, that’s fucking rude. Sorry for wanting to get to know you better, jackass.” you played with the necklace dangling from your neck, your eyes darting to look over at Tobio occasionally. He was tall, taller than you were. Built, too. You heard that he played volleyball in high school and won nationals a couple of times, and he was only a college sophomore. You thought he must work out regularly to keep his shoulders broad. He definitely had abs, too, rippling just under the compression shirt he wore-

“Oi, we’re here. Did your brain leave your head or something?” he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from slamming face-first into the library doors. “Watch where you’re going. Next time, I’ll just let you break your nose.”

“Gee, thanks. I feel so protected,” you sighed, walking to an empty study corner. Tobio took the beanbag, and you took the couch, taking out your flashcards and highlighters. “So, we’re currently on the human anatomy unit. This is one of the more complicated units, so I can’t blame you for struggling. One of the reasons I’m doing so well is that my high school offered human anatomy during my third year. I was good at it.” you praised yourself. 

“Wow, really? Karasuno didn’t offer that.” Tobio leaned back in the bean bag, resting his arms behind his head. 

“You went to Karasuno? I didn’t know you were from Miyagi.”

“I thought it would be obvious to you since you’re so smart or whatever.” he rolled his eyes, leaning forward. “Let's just get this over with. I have other shit to do besides getting babied by the class know-it-all.” 

You slammed your flashcards down on the table, shooting him a glare. “Look, it’s not my fault you’re bad at biology. But I’ve been appointed as your tutor and won’t give up on you just because you’re mean to me. I’ve been called worse things. So suck it up and let me help you, you asshole.” you tossed your textbook at him. “Read this passage, and then I’ll show you the flashcards. Is that okay with you, or do you need further instruction, moron?”

Damn, he liked when you talked to him like that. He knew you were faking that kindness act just so your professor wouldn’t get upset with you. He was right. Tobio knew you had an attitude under all that nerd attire that made you look so fucking sexy. Wait, did he think you were sexy? No…right? You were his tutor. You were a total loser who dressed like that basketcase from The Breakfast Club. So why did he suddenly have the overwhelming urge to slam his lips against yours when you told him off? He shook his head, trying to erase the sinful thoughts from his mind as he read the passage in the textbook that lectured about menstruation. Ew, gross. Well, he guessed it wasn’t gross. It was natural. Besides, you would probably punch his lights out if he said it was gross. For once in his life, it was better to keep his mouth shut. 

“Have you finished the paragraph?” your words snapped him out of his thoughts—a twinge of pink dusted his cheeks.

“Yeah,” he responded, closing the textbook. “I can’t believe you have to go through that every month.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “You get used to it eventually. At least I don’t have endometriosis,” you shuffled your flashcards, taking one out of the deck. “Okay, can you tell me the average amount of days that a person with a uterus gets their period?”

Tobio thought for a moment. “Uh…five?”

You slowly nodded. “Well, it’s closer to a week, but everyone is different, so I guess you’re technically right,” you pulled out another card. “Why do people with uteruses get cramps when menstruating?”

“Um…because the muscles in the vagina contract to…” 

“To what?”

“To get rid of the lining…”

You clapped your hands together. “Very good! Did you already know some of this stuff?”

Tobio nodded. “I have an older sister. She gets really bad cramps, and the whole house turns into chaos whenever she gets her period. Chocolate usually helps…I would always make her chocolate milk.” He smiled to himself.

“Aw, that’s really nice of you. Your older sister is lucky to have a nice little brother, even if he’s a jackass to his biology tutor.” you snickered, putting away the flashcards. “Well, it’s been an hour already. I think we should wrap up. I’m hungry.”

“I’m not a jackass, shut up!” Tobio grew defensive, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. “I have to get to practice anyway. Hinata will start spamming my phone any minute if I’m late. He’s so annoying.”

You put your items in your bag. “Hinata? Like, Shoyo Hinata?” you pushed your glasses up to your face. “I know him. We eat lunch together sometimes. He’s hilarious.” you smile, and Tobio felt a jealous wave wash over him. You were the cutest girl he had talked to in a long time. Why did Hinata get to talk to you, too? Was he about to try something? Fucking Hinata. 

“He’s actually really fucking annoying. He makes weird noises when he receives the ball like a toddler.” Tobio smirked, brushing the dust off his jeans. “But if you think he’s funny, you must be right. After all, you’re the smart one.” he teased.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Don’t get pissy with me because you have a shitty grade in biology. So, what if you know how the menstrual cycle works? I bet you’re awful at the reproductive part of human anatomy.” you placed a hand on your hip. “We’ll meet here tomorrow at the same time. You get to learn about the vagina, which should be fun for you since you’re obviously a fucking virgin.” 

“I am not!” Tobio huffed, staring daggers as you walked away. He wasn’t technically lying to you, but it also wasn’t the truth. Sure, he had done things with his mouth and hands, but he never went all the way. And Tobio was almost positive that you would bully him relentlessly if you knew that he was a virgin. And he also knew, way deep in his gut, that he wanted you. For whatever reason, he had to have you. You were so full of yourself and painfully smart, smarter than he would ever be. Tobio needed to fuck you so good that you would not doubt in your mind that he wasn’t a virgin. 

The library was relatively empty, but it was a Saturday afternoon. Students who lived off campus were at their parent's house, and those who lived on campus were probably asleep in their dorms or doing other activities. It was a lovely atmosphere, especially without all the annoying frat guys using the library as a place to make out with girls in the nonfiction section. You and Tobio sat in the usual spot, except you both sat on the couch this time. Even though you didn’t particularly care for him, he was getting better at human anatomy, which you felt proud of.

“So, are you ready to learn about how we reproduce?” you opened your textbook to the bookmarked page. “I know we already learned this in high school, but it’s still an important part of the unit to review, just in case there’s a question on the exam next week that’s a curveball.”

Tobio sighed and took out a highlighter he bought exclusively for your tutoring sessions. “I can’t believe we have to go over this. We’re in college. We know how to fuck.” he blushed, tapping the uncapped highlighter on the thin paper of the textbook.

You cleared your throat. “Just because we know how the process is done doesn’t mean we understand the risks that come along with it. There are sexually transmitted diseases and ectopic pregnancies…there’s a whole list of things that can go wrong during sex. Luckily,” you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose. “Those things are relatively rare. Well, except for the STD portion. That’s why condoms are important, even when your partner is on the birth control pill.”

Tobio smiled slightly. “You seem to know a lot about this. Is there something I should know?” 

Wow, he was never this smooth when it came to flirting. Usually, he was an awkward mess who stammered over his words and made a fool of himself. 

You rolled your eyes and looked at him. “My high school just thought that being properly educated when it came to sex was important, that’s all. I’m not some sexual deviant if that’s what you were wondering. Would a sexual deviant dress like a librarian?” you gestured to your outfit.

Tobio’s eyes wandered to your tight-fitting sweater that fit snugly around your breasts and waist. The skirt you wore was thigh-length and oh-so-snug, and the stockings you wore underneath made you look like the prettiest librarian he had ever seen. “Do you want me to be honest, or is this one of those questions where I’ll be wrong no matter what I say?”

You closed your textbook. “No, be honest. Let me know what you’re thinking.”

Tobio took a deep breath, refusing to make eye contact. You were pretty, but damn, were you terrifying. “I…I think you look really fucking sexy when you dress like a librarian.” he squeezed his knuckles on his lap, looking down at his feet with a furious blush on his face. 

You chuckled. “So you have a thing for librarians or something?” you moved closer toward the bumbling setter. “That’s not a bad thing, you know. Even though you’re incredibly stupid, you are…kind of cute.” you placed your hand on his trembling thigh.

“Don’t touch me there. It’s sensitive,” he whispered.

“Aw, you really are a virgin,” you softly purred, finding this whole ordeal amusing.

“I told you I’m not,” Tobio continued to lie. “I’ve…I’ve had sex.”

You sighed, pulling your hand away from his thigh. “You know, it’s okay if you are a virgin. I know I tease you about it, but it’s really nothing to be ashamed about.”

Tobio crossed his arms and grumbled. “My teammates say otherwise, especially the upperclassmen.”

You rolled your eyes yet again. “Tobio, they just say those things because of toxic masculine culture. You have to ask yourself if you honestly think you’re ready to lose your virginity if you’re emotionally ready for it.”

Tobio raised an eyebrow. “Why would I have to be emotionally ready? Don’t people fuck because they’re horny?”

“Well, yes, but it’s a very intimate act. You have to be mature enough to be vulnerable with your partner. This is why sex education is so important.”

Tobio racked his brain, thinking of what to say next. “Do you…want to come over tonight? T-to study, obviously. I have to get my grades up, or it’s my ass.”

You smiled, packing up your things. “We can just study in my dorm. I live alone, so it’ll be nice and cozy. Maybe we can do a practice quiz on female anatomy? I’m guessing you already know a lot about male anatomy.” you give him a suggestive smirk.

Tobio frowned. “Did you just say that I jerk off a lot?”

“You’re a nineteen-year-old in college. Of course, you jerk off a lot.”

“Shut up! God, you’re so pretentious.” Tobio shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the couch. 

“At least I’m not failing biology,” you stuck your tongue out playfully. “Come by my dorm building around nine. It’s the one by the dining hall, you can’t miss it. I’ll be waiting to buzz you in.” With that, you left, humming to yourself as if you didn’t give Tobio a million ideas on how to spend his time in your dorm. What if you brushed against his shoulder when going over terms, and his hand just happened to slide around your waist? Oh, it would be absolutely terrible if you got on top of him, caging him under your body as your lips trailed down further and further until they landed on his needy cock. Fuck, Tobio was hard just thinking about it. He grabbed a nearby throw pillow and whistled to himself, waiting for his erection to go down so he could walk to his dorm and prepare for tonight. In reality, nothing would probably happen…right?

It was 9:02 in the evening. The crickets played a tune outside your dorm hall as you sat down on one of the many chairs they had scattered on the lawn that were usually used during the springtime. The moon shone brightly in the sky, and the fireflies danced with the stars. Truely it was a perfect evening.

Except Tobio was fucking late. Sure, it was only two minutes, but what if he forgot? You didn’t have his contact information; emailing him was out of the question because that would be outdated. And so, you waited patiently outside for him to arrive. You couldn’t wait to lecture him.

“Yo,” Tobio waved. His backpack hung over his shoulders, and his cell phone practically dangled from his grey sweatpants. “Sorry, I’m late. My roommate was being an asshole, and we were yelling so much that I lost track of time.”

“You’re two and a half minutes late, dick,” you brushed the dirt off your knees, stretching. “I was considering going back inside and leaving you to fend for yourself.”

Tobio scoffed. “It’s only two and half minutes, damn. You really need to learn how to relax.”

You opened up the dorm building with your keycard. “If I relaxed, I wouldn’t be at the top of my class. Now, would I?”

“Whatever. Can we just get this over with? I hate studying.” he said defensively. It wasn’t technically lying; Tobio didn’t like studying, but he liked studying with you. He would never admit it, but you made the material easier to remember, and you actually cared about him getting decent grades for whatever reason. 

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, princess. I live on the third floor, and the elevator is broken, so we’re taking the stairs.” you took off your hoodie and wrapped it around your waist, revealing your low-cut tank top. “C’mon. I don’t want to waste more time than we already have.”

“It was barely three minutes…” Tobio muttered under his breath as he followed you up the stairs, trying his best not to trip over the steps as his eyes constantly darted to your exposed cleavage. Fuck, you looked so fucking good. Did you even know what you were doing to him? Probably, you loved teasing him. Maybe if he got enough answers correct, you would let him bury his face in your breasts and suck little hickeys onto them.

“Okay, we’re here,” your dorm room was just at the end of the hall, nice and secluded. You jiggled the key in the doorknob and let him inside, the dorm walls decorated with posters ranging from your favorite TV shows to stupid ones you found while thrifting. “Make yourself at home. I’ll get my laptop to do online flashcards. If you get them right, you get to feed your little monster pet. Isn’t that fun?”

Tobio chuckled. “You have to rely on a game to study? And there I thought you were just books and, uh, other things.”

“Wow, so smooth.”

“Shut the hell up.”

You giggled and sat on your bed, patting the spot next to you. “Make yourself comfortable. This could be a while.”

“As long as it’s less than an hour, I don’t care.” he sat beside you, mindful of the space between. If he was any closer, he might be unable to help himself.

“Oh, honey, did you think you would be in and out of here in a tight thirty minutes? You could not be more wrong,” you mocked him, opening the flashcard application on your computer. “This will take maybe two hours so that you can learn all there is to know about the female body. Unless, of course,” you leaned in closer. “You don’t think you can handle it.”

Fuck, this is where Tobio dies. He’s going to die, and it’s because this sexy fucking nerd won’t give his virgin ass a break. 

“I-I can handle it! I can totally handle it!” Tobio sounded so sure of himself, but the crimson blush decorating his cheeks gave it all way.

“If you say so,” you clicked on a flashcard. “Alright, what is the labia?”

Tobio thought for a moment. “Uh, it’s the folds of skin around the vaginal opening…right?”

You smiled. “Very good! You get to give the little monster a treat now.” You handed him the laptop. “You can click on what food you want to give him. I personally like giving him the rice cakes.”

Tobio chuckled at the tiny digital creature chewing on the snack. “This is kind of cute. I can see why you like studying now.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Studies show that making learning fun actually helps the material stick in your brain for longer periods of time. Who knew?”

You clicked on another flash card once Tobio had finished feeding the virtual monster. “Oh, this is a fun one. How rare is the female orgasm without clitoral stimulation?”

“...why do I have to know this?” Tobio looked flustered.

“Just answer the damn question.” he looked cute when he was embarrassed.

“Uh, common…I think. I don’t know, I’m not a girl.”

You sighed and adjusted your glasses. “Wrong, sorry. It’s actually incredibly rare for a female to orgasm without proper clitoral stimulation. We often time have to fake it to please our current partner.”

He looked down at his socks. “That doesn’t sound very fun. Why do guys cum more easily than girls?”

“Because the sperm fertilizes the egg, and women don’t need to orgasm to produce the egg, obviously.”

“And how was I supposed to know that?”

You rubbed your temple. “Because the textbook is right in front of you, dummy. Anyways,” you looked at Tobio. “Don’t feel bad. We have sex toys and stuff so we can get proper orgasms.”

Tobio scratched the back of his neck. “Has…has anyone ever made you cum?”

You were silent for a moment. “No, not even once. I had a boyfriend who was convinced he knew where the clit was…he always got it wrong.”

“Sorry to hear that,” why did Tobio feel bad? He wasn’t your boyfriend…did he want to be?

“S’not your fault, don’t apologize.” you pat him on the back, the faintest shade of ballerina pink on your cheeks. “Well, we should probably get back to studying now.”

Tobio closed the laptop. “We could study a different way…o-only if you want to.”

“What do you mean? Like, without flashcards?” you were faking your innocence. You knew exactly what he was talking about. 

“Are you seriously going to make me say it?” Tobio forced himself to look at you, drinking in your natural beauty. Holy fuck, you were so gorgeous.

“Yeah, I really am,” you leaned forward, licking your lips. “Go on, tell me how we can study a different way. I’m so eager.”

Tobio groaned to himself at the sight of your pink tongue licking your bottom lip, making you seem even more tempting. “We could, dammit, we could have sex a-and you could show me how to…y’know, make you feel good. O-only if you want to, I would never force you to. It’s not like I’m desperate for sex or anything. Who said that? Not me-” You cut him off by placing a manicured finger on his chapped lips. 

“If you want to fuck, then let’s just fuck. I’ll teach you along the way, alright Tobio?” you placed your laptop on the dresser beside you, climbing into his trembling lap. Your soft hands cupped his flushed face, the scent of your vanilla hand cream filling his nostrils with a pleasant aroma. “Do you want me to fuck you, Tobio?”

“God, yes,” 

With his approval, you gently pressed your lips against his. He quickly melted into the kiss, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist so your chest was flush against his. His lips moved slowly against yours as if he was terrified to do something that would upset you. You giggled into the kiss, shifting in Tobio’s lap to get more comfortable.

He groaned into the kiss, his hands squeezing your hips with feather-light force as your tongue bore into his mouth, dancing with his own before pulling away. Your arms secured themselves around his neck, fingers tugging on the loose strands of midnight black hair. “Did you like kissing me, Tobio?” you purred, your petal-like lips trailing kisses down his thick neck.

“Y-yeah, I really fucking liked that,” God, his whimpers would be the death of you.

“Do you know what a hickey is, Tobio?”

“Not really…” he felt ashamed of how little he knew.

You frowned at his downtrodden tone, rubbing his cheekbone with your thumb. “Hey, don’t say it like that. It’s okay if you don’t know what a hickey is. I’m your tutor, don’t you want to learn?” he nodded.

“So why don’t you let me show you then, hm? I’ll be gentle, I promise.” you kissed up and down his neck until you found a spot that made Tobio gasp. “Is this where it feels good?”

His sweatpants strained. “Yeah..really good,”

Your teeth nipped at the skin. “This might hurt, so tell me if it’s too much. Can you be a good boy and do as you’re told?”

Another whine escaped his puffy lips. “Yeah, I’ll be good for you.”

Your lips descended onto the previously marked spot, taking his skin between your teeth and sucking ever so slightly. His once light grip on your hips strengthened as you bit down on the sensitive flesh, sucking the tiniest purple bruise that would surely blossom into a beautiful hickey. You pulled away, catching your breath and brushing your hair out of your field of vision. “How did that feel, pretty boy?”

Tobio’s cock was painfully hard in his boxers. The grey sweatpants were not doing him any favors in terms of concealing his throbbing erection. “Shit, that felt so fucking good,” his hands traveled down to the bottom of your shorts, fidgeting with the cotton fabric. “Can I have another one, please?”

You pecked his nose. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

His head craned to the side to give you better access as you bit at the other side of his neck, suckling on the same place opposite the first hickey. Whimper after shallow whimper fled his lips, his calloused hands from years of volleyball sliding under your shorts to toy with the fat of your ass.

You gasped at the sensation, pulling away prematurely. “Somebody’s certainly handsy tonight.”

“S’not my fault,” Tobio looked away. “Just wanted to feel more of you, that’s all. Not my fault that you’re pretty.”

“You’re cute,” you pecked his lips, your glasses pushing up against the bridge of your nose. “Tobio, do you wanna continue being a good boy for me?”

“So fucking badly, please. I’ll do whatever you want. Just make me feel good.” Holy fuck, he was sure he had never been more embarrassed in his whole life. He would never say something like that. The power you held over him was unmatched.

You rolled yourself off his lap, propping yourself on the bed by your elbows. Teasingly, your hands reached under your shirt and pulled it off, your bra following after. The cold and arousing air of your dorm room grazed your tits, your nipples perking up at the temperature change. “Why don’t you take that shirt off too, hm? Don’t be shy now.”

Tobio didn’t need to be told twice. He practically ripped his shirt from his body. You didn’t even get a chance to admire his toned form before his lips were on yours again, his muscular body caging yours as his rough hands left trails of molten lava on your breasts. 

“Fuck, Tobio,” you moaned into the kiss, wrapping your legs around his slender waist. “D’ya like what you see, pretty boy?”

He didn’t answer. His lips wrapped around your nipple, eagerly sucking at the sensitive mound while his other hand toyed with the supple flesh. You let out a content sigh as his mouth alternated between breasts, not leaving one abandoned for a moment. 

“Fucking love these tits,” his voice rumbled against your cleavage, covering your scorching body with sloppy open-mouth kisses. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Your hand danced between his messy hair. “Good boy. You’re being so good, Tobio.”

His hips rutted against yours, his clothed erection desperate for any kind of friction. “Wanna make you feel good,” he groaned as he tore his mouth away from your breast. “Please, teach me how to make you feel good.” he didn’t even care how desperate and pathetic he sounded. All he knew was that he needed you. 

“Take my shorts and panties off,” you lifted your hips off the mattress. Tobio didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled your soft shorts off and tossed them on the ground beneath you, your panties soon dangling over your ankle. “That’s it. You’re such a good student, Tobio.”

Fuck, your body was to fucking die for. Your glistening heat was so incredibly tempting. He wondered what you would taste like…if you would permit him to taste you.

“Do you know what oral sex is?”

“Y-yeah, of course I know. I’m not an idiot.”

You nodded in satisfaction. “Now, do you want me to show you how to make a girl cum on your tongue?” 

His nod was a bit too quick.

You chuckled. “Alright then,” your delicate hand spread over your pussy, circling your clit. “This is the clitoris. When you apply enough pressure to the clitoris, that’s when your partner will probably orgasm. Fingers sometimes do the trick,” you looked deep into his gunmetal eyes. “But the best thing to do is to suck on it with your mouth. Can you be a good boy and do that for me, Tobio?”

“Mhm, I-I can do that. I’ll make you feel so fucking good, I promise.” he lifted your hips so they rested on his thighs for support. The hot breath from his tongue sent electric shocks throughout your body, complimented only by his whimpers as he flattered his tongue against your soaking heat. 

“Fuck,” you sighed, tossing your head back against your plush pillows as Tobio slowly dragged his tongue up and down, occasionally stopping to suck on your clit. Your hands flew to his unkempt hair as he grew greedy, quicking his pace. The calloused tips of his fingers squeezed the supple skin of your thighs as his nose brushed against your most sensitive bud, lapping at your sobbing cunt like a man starved.

“T-Tobio, fuck!” you cried out, arching your back further into the mattress as his pace quickened like a man on a mission. His tongue and lips worked against your core in a fierce heat, not being able to think of anything else except pushing you over the edge, just like you asked him to. Your thighs clenched around his head as his thumb found your clit, swirling electric circles. “I’m so fucking close, don’t stop!” his name fell like a mantra from your lips as he continued his brutal pace, groaning as you tasted too incredibly sweet on his tongue.

He lifted his head from between your thighs, his mouth covered in your slick. “Am I doing a good job? Do you feel good?”

You shoved his head back down. “Yes, just keep going. I’m so fucking close, Tobio, please.”

The sound of you begging was all he needed to drive you over the edge. He buried himself in your heat, his thumb being replaced by his middle and ring finger as he drew rough circles against your clit, his tongue darting up and down like a madman. With one final cry of ecstasy, you came crashing down as your orgasm sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout your molten figure. His tongue worked you through your orgasm, lapping up every last bit of your release.

You pulled him up by his hair, your face flushed with the deepest shade of pink he had ever seen. “Fuck…that was so fucking good. You’re such a good boy. Do you want your reward now?” Before he could answer, you flipped over so he was under you, your body still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. His sweatpants were discarded, and boxers hung on his ankle. 

“What are you doing?” Tobio whined as your thumb teased his throbbing cock, gathering precum on it as you tasted him. “Fuck, it feels so fucking good.”

You hovered above his length, aligning it with your entrance. “Shh, just think about how good I’m about to make you feel, okay?” you lowered yourself down onto his cock, hissing as your greedy pussy swallowed his length.

“What about, oh fuck, what about condoms?” Tobio whimpered, his hands finding your hips as you sat on his pelvis, the walls of your cunt squeezing around his cock. 

“Well, you’re a virgin, and I’m on the pill. It’s safe to assume that you’re clean.” you groaned as you lifted yourself, the head of his throbbing cock sitting snug in your walls before you slammed yourself back down. 

“Holy shit,” Tobio rasped, squeezing his eyes shut as you began to slowly bounce on his cock. “Y-you’re so fucking tight, oh my fucking god.”

You leaned down to kiss him, whispering sweet nothings against his lips as you raised and lowered your hips, creating a steady pace that filled you up so nicely. “Yeah, you like me fucking you?”

His grip on your hips tightened as you set a relentless pace, your dorm room filling with the echoes of skin smacking against skin as his cock disappeared in and out of your cunt. “Shit, I’m not gonna last if y’keep that up. Fuck!” he shouted as his cock brushed against your cervix. The sight of your bruised breasts bouncing in his face only drove him further to the edge of euphoria, taking your nipple in his mouth as you continued to ride him.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you harder, Tobio? So fucking greedy.” you were met with a wanton cry as you slammed down even harder, his cock twitching inside of you. Your pace grew sloppy as he continued to suck on your breast, his calloused hands roaming up and down your backside, desperate for purchase. 

“M’not greedy!” Tobio whined, practically sobbing into your harsh kiss as your walls clenched around him, milking him for all he was worth. “Gonna fucking cum, fuck! Can I cum inside? Can I please cum inside your pussy?” his pride has long since been thrown out the window, his release the only thing in his head. Tobio didn’t even wait for you to respond before his climax crested, shooting white hot ropes of cum into your pussy, his hips bucking up into yours as he rode out his incredible high. 

The warmth in your core enveloped you as your bouncing ceased, letting him recover from the aftershocks of euphoria. His mouth was agape, and his gorgeous blue eyes could barely be kept open.

“You’re so cute,” your hands cupped his cheeks, kissing his nose as you got off of his ruined cock. His body was scooped into your arms, fingers drawing random shapes and patterns on his chest as he recovered. “Did that feel good, pretty boy?”

Tobio could only grumble in response. “So good, so fucking good. Love that pussy,” he whispered, curling up deeper into your arms as you tended to him.

“Do you need anything? A glass of water, a snack?”

“I’m not five years old…” he sighed, peeking up from your arms. “Can we just cuddle or something? I don’t wanna leave just now.”

You raised a brow. “No one said you had to leave right away. Where that stereotype came from, I will never know.” 

Tobio shrugged. “I dunno either. It’s stupid, anyway. You’re so warm.”

“Are you sure this isn’t the same guy who was being such a hard-ass a couple of days ago?” you chuckled, fluffing his hair.

“No! Shut up,” he frowned at you, pecking your cheek. “Let’s watch a movie so I don’t have to keep looking at your stupid, pretty face.”

“Hey, Tobio,” you whispered in his ear. “If you get a good grade on that quiz next week, I can show you what my mouth can do.”

[moamidzyism]

locked out (c.yj)

☆。.:*·ﾟwc 1468 smut ౨ৎ minors DNI ˚⁺。˚ ୨୧ resident assistant!yeonjun x fem!reader, making out, hand job [masterlist • reblogs + feedback appreciated]

event masterlist

the knock on his door pulled yeonjun out of his desk chair. he sighed and reluctantly shuffled across the room. as he opened the door, he was met with the familiar sight of you, the shy resident that looked up at him with wide eyes when he held open the elevator doors for you on move-in day. now you stood in front of him with the same nervous energy.

he turned on his “on the lock voice” as he asked you what brought you to his door. you smiled bashfully, stumbling over your words as you explained that you got locked out of your room. he glanced down at his phone to check the time. 10:34pm flashed on the screen. he looked back at you apologetically. “the resource office is closed and i’m not sure who is on night duty today.” he explained to you.

“oh,” disappointment filled your face as your smile faltered.

“have you tried reaching your roommate?” he suggested.

you nodded, slumping your shoulders. “yeah, but she isn’t home and she says she might not be back for another hour or so.” your gaze drifted past yeonjun, lingering on the warmth of his room behind. “can i stay here?”

yeonjun looked back at his room for a moment and reminisced about the peaceful night he thought he was going to have. he turned back to you, eying you up and down. you were wearing a black mini skirt paired with a matching leather jacket. your arms were behind you, trying (and failing) to conceal the brown paper bag that you clutched in your hands.

he hesitated, sighing and massaging his temple, weighing his options. he couldn’t really deny support to one of his residents, especially when you were smiling at him so expectantly and coyly. “why not?” he finally relented, pushing the door open wider for you to walk in.

he watched you step inside and remove your jacket. you took a seat on the couch and also took in his room. his studio was a lot larger than yours, even though it was meant for one person, but those are just the perks of his job. the soft lighting of his desk lamp cast a gentle glow across the walls and his meticulously made bed that was tucked neatly against the back wall. he watched your face as your mind contorted trying to place his room in file of the character you have made of him. 

yeonjun walked in after you, but towards his desk instead. he glanced at the waiting room of his video game that had just loaded as soon as you knocked on his door. he sighed wistfully, shutting down the game and closing his computer. with a resigned air, he moved to join you on the couch. “so, how has your semester been so far?” he asked.

“it’s been okay,” you bit your bottom lip.

“made any friends?”

“i thought i did, but they ditched me tonight.” you admitted. you tried to mask your disappointment but he saw right through it.

“oh, that sucks.” he tapped your hand in support. “but it’s just the beginning of the year so you’re going to make new friends in no time.”

“yeah, true. at least i get to be here with you.” you tried to joke in a pathetic attempt to lighten the mood. yeonjun gave you a pity laugh and the conversation quickly dwindled from there.

you scanned the wall of his room, eyeing the posters, trying to find something that you could make into a conversation. yeonjun opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. he too looked around the room, racking his brain on what he could say to fill the void. your eyes met and you exchanged a tight lipped smile before immediately averting eye contact.

the silence stretched, filled only by the ambient hum of the room and the voices on the street outside.

“i’m sorry,” you laughed nervously after a while. “this is so awkward.”

“no, it’s not–” he started, but then he laughed too. “actually, yeah it is.”

“i’m usually better at talking to people, but this is just different, i guess,” you confessed, both of you turning to face each other.

“why would this be different?”

“this is so embarrassing. i shouldn’t have said anything,” you hid your hands in your face. he insisted you have to tell him, prying your hands off your face, a playful grin spreading across his face. you groaned but he promised that he wouldn’t laugh and so you told him all about the little crush on him that you had developed since the moment you met him.

you couldn’t stop the word vomit from rushing out of your mouth and yeonjun looked at you with amused eyes as you rambled on and on about how interesting and funny and cool and kind you think he is.

yeonjun reached out to gently take your hand. he squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing against your skin to comfort you. you inched closer and closer to him, trying to close the gap between the two of you. before he could process, your lips were on his, your hands cupping his face.

he pulled away and you were quick to rush into apologies and gather your things from the floor. yeonjun pulled you back into the kiss. without breaking the kiss, he pulled you onto his lap and you straddled him.

you wrapped your hands around his neck, your fingers threading through his hair in a way that makes him moan into the kiss. his hands roamed your back, pushing your chest closer to his. he had to admit, you’re a really good actress – the way you walked into his room, giving him your pathetic story about locking yourself out. but now he was the pathetic one underneath you. 

he broke apart from the kiss briefly. your foreheads rested against each other, your warm breath on his lips as you panted softly. “we really shouldn’t be doing this.” he groaned when you grinded against him. your hands made their way to the waistband of his gray sweatpants.

“i wouldn’t tell, if you don’t.” you pressed a series of tender kisses along his jawline.

yeonjun let out a low ok and you slid your hand inside his pants, your fingers brushing against his growing cock. his head fell back against the couch at the contact. you wrapped your hand around him, feeling his hardness as you began to stroke him slowly, deliberately, and gently.

yeonjun could feel himself quickly going insane with your every teasing touch, his breathing growing heavier. “that feels so good.” you watched him whisper with his eyes half-closed in pleasure. you watched intently at the way his expression shifted with each movement, the way his body responded to your touch.

as your hand moved faster, his breathing became more ragged, his moans loader. each stroke brought him closer to the edge, his body tense and trembling under your touch. he could feel the power you held over him and how his need for you grew with every passing second.

yeonjun’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss again. the room felt like it was spinning and the only thing that was keeping him grounded was his hands that gripped your hips, guiding your movements against him.

just as he was about to reach his orgasm, your phone rang. the sound jolted you both out of your haze. yeonjun let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back against the couch. “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” he muttered.

a string of curses fell from your lips as you reluctantly pulled away from him. your hand slipped out of his sweatpants, and you dug through your purse looking for your phone. the caller id showed your roommate’s name.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered as you answered the phone.

you tried to regain your composure and hoped that your roommate couldn’t sense your heart rate skyrocketing as yeonjun reattached his lips to your neck, biting and sucking ever so gently while your roommate tells you that she just got back to the dorm and she was making her way upstairs.

“okay, i’ll– i’ll see you soon.” you hung up the phone. “i have to go. my roommate is coming up now.” you told yeonjun, who whined in protest but still allowed you to collect your things and orient yourself before you left.

he walked you over to his door, and you turned around to pull him into a long, lingering kiss, your fingers gently curling into his hair. his lips met yours with fervor, but you quickly pulled away and opened the door.

“i’ll see you around, yeah?”

taglist: @naomiarai @dearlyjun @atinyniki @boba-beom @bunnie-hq @isabellah29 @pluviophile-xxx @wolfytae-exe @yutacchin @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinyelfperson @nikilvrfvr @wccycc @ryunjin0 @tyunzonlystar @thejadeazalea @mong-mong-seungmin @jjklvr9 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @snghoonluv @itzzz-yerin @ujisworld @milanco @gyulinoo @nounouzzn @enhaslxt @tenleeluvr @everythingboutkpop @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @yawnzsof @sthwaaberry @meowiejuns

comment below or send an ask to be included in the taglist for this event! fill out this form to join my permanent taglist! author's note :: this was definitely not a fantasy i had about one of the r.a.s that lived in my building last year. this one is a doozy but i hope you guys enjoy it lol

[astridthevalkyrie]

oh my god, bakugo's kind of my friend! | k. bakugo x reader

----> summary: You'd never dare tell anyone that he was your friend. You'd never be so bold. Katsuki agrees. He's definitely not your friend.

----> warnings: quirkless university au, video game violence, fluff n feelings

----> a/n: title blatantly stolen from the office—"oh my god, dwight's kind of my friend!"

----> word count: 2k

God, no, you’re not friends with Katsuki Bakugo.

No one is.

Yeah, okay, that’s not totally true. He’s sort of friends with Ochako, that’s how you met him. He’s actually fairly close to Izuku and Eijiro, his roommates. He tolerates Shoto, might even begrudgingly respect him. And he’s got some weird mutual-depression pact going on with Kyoka. 

But you’re not any of them. And you vehemently deny it when people ask, lest he, heaven forbid, think you’re going around telling people he likes you. You saw what happened to Neito last year when he, just once, said something about his friend Katsuki. You’re pretty sure it was the reason behind his switching majors, too, just to avoid being in the same classes with the terrifying blonde.

Sure, you’re in his apartment. Neito’s never stepped foot in here (aside from The Incident). And you’re well acquainted with the people he does clearly consider not-enemies. Earlier today, you and Momo had been out getting chips and soda for tonight. Just half an hour ago, you’d been playing blind karaoke with Eijiro, Izuku, and Ochako on Kyoka’s old laptop and mic that somehow both still had really good audio quality. Not to mention, you and Mina have had at least one class together every semester since you both started—she always races to slide into the chair next to you on every first day.

And you’re currently sitting on Katsuki’s couch, two feet away from Katsuki, playing a battle royale on Katsuki’s console.

“Behind the building,” he mutters, and you hum in acknowledgement, running to the spot he generously marked on the map.

It started a long while back. You and Denki had been playing some shitty racing game, and you’d very easily kicked his ass, leaving him groaning and flopping back onto Kyoka’s lap, where she offered no pity, rolling his head off with a light shove. As you were laughing at the display, Katsuki had taken Denki’s place on the floor, and all but demanded you pick up the controller once more.

(You’d won again. Terrified, you simply claimed that your controller must be broken before racing out of the room.

Imagine your surprise when, the next time you visited, he’d barked at you to assist him with a multiplayer, ordering a pouty Denki off the couch.)

You like playing, and you don’t have a console with as much storage back home, and you’re too broke to be buying multiple games anyways, so you don’t mind taking advantage of Katsuki’s appreciation for your skill. It’s usually a nice way to end the night, whether you and Ochako end up leaving or if you fall asleep right there on the couch.

Shivering, you bring your feet under the wool blanket you’d brought with you. You’re the only one who finds the apartment freezing. Everyone else typically sheds their extra layers, while you once hunted down Eijiro’s sock drawer to steal a pair of He-Man stockings for the night. 

“Up in the window,” you warn, at the same time he says, “Oi.”

Both of you meet each other’s gaze for a second in bewilderment, before rapidly turning your attention back to the TV. He dodges the shot from the window, and then continues.

“You been tellin’ people I hate you?”

“What?” Your hands almost drop the controller, but you regain control just quick enough to roll out of the way of a grenade. “No.”

“Kirishima said Tetsutetsu told him that Kendo told him that Tokage told her that you told her I hated you.”

If you weren’t nervous, you’d tell Katsuki you were surprised he even knew all those names. “I didn’t say that. I just said we weren’t friends.”

There’s an awfully long pause. You can still hear the sounds from the game, and the chatter of everyone else in the apartment—Hanta’s trying to rap?—but not a word from your couch partner. If it weren’t for the screen in front of you, you’d be nervously biting your nails or just full on escaping, honestly. Not that you’re scared of Katsuki, at least not more than one should be, but…

Well, the truth is you did see him as a friend. Or, screw it, as more than that, if those little arrhythmias you observed in yourself every time he would raise his hand in greeting when he passed you on campus were any indication. And you know it’s going to hurt—it already does—to hear him confirm the same thing that you told everyone when they asked. That you meant very little to him, in the long term.

“We’re not friends, huh?” he finally says, as more of an inquiry than you’d expected it to sound.

Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t stop staring straight ahead, spamming X to whack someone over the head with a bat. “Um. Are we?”

“Isn’t this your favorite game?” he shoots back, as though that answers your question.

“Yes? So?”

Another pause. You climb up to the roof of some building and emote pointlessly before hopping down and ducking behind a bush to heal. Katsuki lets out a mix of a sigh and a grunt, dashing across an abandoned minefield. 

“So,” he snarks, “I only bought it after you told me it was your favorite.”

Faintly, you feel the tips of your ears grow hot. Is that true? That can’t be true, can it? The timing does line up. You think it was back in the first week of October that you mentioned it, and then by Halloween you’d already played several rounds. Between that and losing to Momo in several games of pool, finals month had flown by.

But…

“I didn’t even tell you that.” Your voice comes out meek, and even though you’re in a safe space now, you’re still too nervous to turn your head and look at him. “I was talking to Shoto.” You’d even been half sure that Shoto wasn’t really registering what you were saying, with Ochako an inch away from him shrieking starships were meant to fly-y-y-y-y directly into his ear.

Katsuki grunts. “I was there, wasn’t I?”

If you wrack your memory, you can sort of remember it. He was…on Ochako’s other side? When she got drunk, she usually wanted to whack something, and Katsuki’s arm had been her victim that day, her palm smacking against his elbow at every other sung word.

The heat from your ears travels down to your neck. Over the singing and over everyone else’s conversations, was he paying attention to…you?

“I appreciate it,” you squeak quickly, wincing when you’re shot in the leg, “I mean, that was nice. Thank you. I just—I didn’t think you wanted me telling people we were friends, after what happened to—”

“If you bring up Monoma, I’ll take away your blanket,” he threatens; it makes you chuckle weakly. “You’re not that shithead. He pisses me off. You’re…you know.” You don’t know, actually. “You.”

Yeah, you’re you. You play games with him. You know his friends. You’re the only one who can try to outdance Eijiro to Rasputin in Just Dance. What does any of that have to do with…

“Do you think I ever fuckin’ carried that dick’s bag to class?”

“I don’t—”

“Do you think I had his stupid long ice cream order memorized? Pistachios, on the sides only,” he mimics, and you huff in an affronted sort of way, defensive of your topping choices. “Telling people to shut up so that I could hear what he was saying? Turning up the heat and burning up everyone in the apartment just to keep him warm? Was I inviting him to my place every two weeks just to fuckin’ watch him play Kingdom Hearts 3?”

And so, you finally look to the side. Katsuki’s cheeks are red, and his gaze is still on the television. His thumbs move furiously against the controller, and you have to bite your lip to prevent a quiet you’re really cute, you know that? from carelessly slipping from your mouth.

“But, to be fair,” you attempt, still confused, “you don’t exactly do all of that for your other friends either, Katsuki.”

At your words, he slouches into his seat more, the creases on his forehead deepening as an uncharacteristic frown—a frown, not a scowl—forms on his face. One would think you’d just told him you hated his guts. 

“Yeah.“ His glare flickers over to you for a moment. “Exactly.”

There’s a blast from the TV and a realization that hits you at the same time. 

You’re not his friend. He doesn’t see you as a friend.

The heat finally reaches your cheeks, and your mouth falls open slightly. 

Then, realizing something else, your head immediately snaps back to the screen to see that blast sound had actually been your character getting blown up. 

Your mouth falls open. You’d looked away for a few seconds at best. Which aces are in the lobby tonight?

“I lost,” you tell him, crestfallen. 

Katsuki snorts. “I didn’t.”

He keeps playing, and your cheeks don’t take any time to cool down. Instead, you stare at him while he’s distracted trying to escape the same vicious bastards who hunted you down, and you note that his face doesn’t look any less heated either. For once, it’s clearly not because he’s just getting into the game.

You wonder if that was ever the case at all, or if he just felt the same striking little jolt you did everytime you two accidentally bumped into each other while playing on this exact couch.

“I think I’m done for tonight.” The announcement comes out a bit louder than you expected. “I’ll probably head back.”

“I don’t think so.” Without breaking his eyes away from the TV, he nudges his head in the direction of the bedrooms. “Uraraka’s dead on her feet, and you’re not walkin’ back alone.”

Has he always purposely caused the fluttering in your chest? “Okay, well. Izuku’s still awake, I’ll just take his bed for now.”

Katsuki’s tongue clicks in a fuck-around-and-find-out kind of way. “Alright. Put the controller back before you go.”

“Fine. Where’s the, uh…” You turn your head this way and that, looking for the little box that they all go in.

“On my right,” he offers casually, not a hint on his face that he essentially just confessed to you.

Feeling a little spiteful, you reach to the side, blanket and all, instead of just standing up and going behind the couch like you would any other day. Purposefully blocking his view of the screen as you reach over him to toss the controller into the box, you smirk slightly when another blast signals that he’s died as well.

Only to yelp when a firm arm shoves you down against his chest.

“Would you look at that,” he murmurs, red eyes glittering in amusement as he watches you struggle on his lap, “I lost too.”

Tokage is going to hear a very different story tomorrow. “And how’s that my problem?”

His grip tightens, fingers gently digging into the thick cloth of the blanket that’s draped over you. “I wanna play again. And I’m cold.”

There’s a small, dumb grin on his face that you’d consider kissing off if it wasn’t mirrored by an equally dumb one of yours. You’re pretty sure Katsuki’s never ever complained about the cold in his apartment. But then, he’s never complained about the heat either. If he wants to be a sauna under you, who are you to deny him? Besides, you’re feeling cold too, you might as well just take advantage of the free insulation.

From the table, in the midst of pouring something that looks like cookie batter into a bowl, Kyoka raises her brow at the sight of you, then pats Tenya’s arm and points. 

He mouths something like, “Finally.”

Face burning once more, you bury your face in Katsuki’s neck, and relax in his hold while he presses X to replay.

[hyuckswoman]

“are you going to bother me again?” you sigh seeing jisung putting his stuff in the empty spot next to you

“of course i am, how is that even a real question?” he says smiling getting ready for the class “do you have a major degradation kink or something? I fail to understand why you would take so much time off your day to piss me off” you ask your eyes trying to scrutinize him. “you talk weird ‘fail to understand’ okay mrs english major” he laughs taking his pen out of his pencil case writing down calculus quietly sighing at how this class was going to beat his ass “whatever” you sigh getting your stuff out to also get ready for the class. your teacher was pissy and scary also you did not want to get overwhelmed so quickly during the semester. in other words, you were not going to let jisung win.

“do you need help jisung?” the teacher was doing quick rounds in the class, assuring that his students were not getting overwhelmed by the exercise he had just assigned. the multivariable calculus class was almost empty for a reason and he did not want to lose his job, so he had to at least make sure the few students attending his class weren’t failing.

upon hearing the teacher’s question, jisung’s first instinct was to look up at you to see if you were making fun of him or not. call him insecure but he had kind of always been jealous of how easy the material was for you. when you threatened to haunt him to- and i quote- mess up his academics he kinda laughed because in all honesty? he was capable of that all on his own. and judging by the look on his teacher’s face when jisung replied “no i’m fine thank you”, he wasn’t the only one who knew that he and him alone could fuck up this college year.

when the teacher quietly called for your name and asked you to help jisung you wanted to laugh in his face and to tell him no, but something about an older man that’s a figure of authority in your life made you immediately respond “yea no problem” because in no way were you ever going to say no to this scary scary man. jisung debated in between being super embarrassed by the fact that he was the only one who struggled with the material (he wasn’t but he’s self-centered so he doesn’t notice other people) or in being slightly happy that the teacher was giving him an easy way to make your life living hell for the next 30ish minutes.

you mentally sighed as you knew what was coming but still glided your paper over to jisung’s side to at least give it one fair try and then automatically give up when he doesn’t take you seriously. so you began to explain. “in this example we’re trying to find this partial derivative so x is the constant right? so basically what you have to do is apply this limit formula since y is the constant and the derivative is with respect to x. the reason why we can use this limit formula is because the limit definition of this partial derivative is basically the same as the one for the derivative. im sorry if that wasn’t super clear but just yea i’m shit at explaining” you say fully expecting him to throw a jab at you for being a nerd (as if you guys don’t share the same classes)

“no i get it, thank you. i just don’t understand why we’re not considering the other variables” he says furrowing his brows further “it’s because that’s not what’s asked when doing partial differentiation that’s it. we’re focusing one variable at a time that’s why it’s partial…i think” you answer “oh okay that makes sense. so for this one this would be the answer?” he asked showing you his notebook. he has neat handwriting. atypical for a man. “yea, at least that’s also what i found but we might both be wrong” you shrug not too confident in your own answer (even if you literally cannot think of any other way to solve this mess).

and if him taking you seriously when you explained the material instead of bothering you or making fun of you did not surprise you enough, him constantly showing you his answers and asking you questions for the rest of class did. what really shocked you to your core was when he asked if you could tutor him with some classes some day, seeing as tough you guys literally shared every class.

he was also very shocked when you replied “no, suck my dick you ass. im not forgiving you for snooping through my phone just yet”. and he laughed a lot. this semester was really going to be fun for him.

4. no tutoring

last chapter masterlist next chapter

notes : sorry for the late chapter!

taglist: @kgyam4 @sunghoonsgfreal @injunnie-lemon @nctrawberries @222low @multifandomania @joyzluvr @starwonb1n @222brainrot @sinsgaybutthatsokay @defzcl @lostinneocity @junviadinho @mrshwang-park @skepvids @wonbin-truther @jkslvsnella @jising-jisang-jisung @nanaxwi @polarisjisung @amrqxz @jirsungs @haechansbbg @dalsosapple @pookime @pinklemonade34 @lotties-readings @roseangelxfuma @jiiieun @inosfavgf @mystverse

[emlovessid]

@into-the-jeggyverse for the bingo prompt never have i ever, 557 words bingo masterpost

"We should play a game."

James lifts his head to look at Regulus who's lying backwards on James' bed, his socked feet resting on James' pillow beside his head. What had started out as a evening studying for their group university project, had ended with a bottle of tequila, passed back and forth between them until it was empty and they were both a little more than tipsy.

"What sort of game?" James asks.

"I don't know, something fun. How about never have I ever?"

Reaching beside his dorm room bed for the empty tequila bottle, lifting it up for Regulus to see, he says, "We're out of tequila."

Regulus sighs, "You don't have anything else?"

"Unless you want to take shots of English Breakfast, I'm afraid not."

They fall back into comfortable silence, the only sound between them the record playing in the corner, when Regulus pushes himself up onto his elbows, lips curving up into a smile as he says, "How about instead of taking a shot, we take of an item of clothing?"

When James had invited Regulus over to work on their History of Western Art 1500–1900 assignment, this is not how he imagined the night would go, but there's no chance he's going to say no, not when he's been quietly crushing on Regulus all semester.

"Yeah, alright," James says with a shrug, like the thought of either of them getting undressed right now doesn't have his heart jackhammering in his chest. "You can go first, if you want."

With a hum, Regulus eventually says, "Never have I ever…fallen asleep in Professor Moody's class."

Chuckling, James reaches for the hem of his knitted jumper, pulling it up and over his head and throwing it aside. "Okay then, never have I ever…stolen something from my brother."

"God, you're such an only child. It's like you've never met someone with a sibling before. Of course I've stolen something from him," Regulus laughs, as he tugs his socks off. "Never have I ever…"

—

"I'm beginning to think you're not playing fair," James says as he sits back on the bed in only his underwear, while Regulus sits opposite him having only shedded his socks and jumper. "Never have I ever kissed my best friend."

"Tough luck, James."

"What? Never? I would've been willing to bet money that you and Barty had hooked up at least once."

Rolling his eyes, he says, "Sorry to disappoint. Also, in case you hadn't noticed, my two best friends are dating."

It's the tequila running through James' veins that has him joking, "You've never heard of a threesome?"

"Ha, ha."

"Alright, hit me with your worst, Regulus," James sighs, gesturing to his almost-naked state and fixing Regulus with a grin.

With a devilish smirk on his lips, Regulus says, voice low and seductive, "Never have I ever…had a crush on a classmate."

Before James can answer, Regulus pulls his own t-shirt off, and James feels like his brain might combust.

"W-what? You do?" he splutters.

"Obviously, why else would I have suggested this?"

"If you wanted me naked, you could have just asked," James teases, hoping the shake in his voice isn't too obvious.

"But where's the fun in that?" Regulus says coyly, gesturing to James' last remaining item of clothing.

What else can James do but comply?

[funkyplantguy]

for the prompt asks thing: how about scarian as musicians of some sort?

rubbing my hands together. excellent, excellent - featuring: drummer!scar and singer!grian (meet-cute! kinda)

- now, in all honesty, grian had assumed that the showers would be empty at this time of night. i mean, really, who showered at 3 in the morning on a tuesday night? (freaks, that was who, freaks, and a totally normal insomniac who had maybe been up a touch too late working on his latest music project). plus - he'd never run into anyone in the showers at this time before, at least not this semester. he'd been pretty quick to memorize the bathroom routines of the people on his floor - and then use that knowledge to avoid each and every one of them. he wasn't antisocial, per say, just very busy - and plus, if he was going to be wasting valuable time showering, anyway, he might as well make use of the frankly incredible acoustics in the bathroom. so that's how he found himself here, standing completely naked in the showers, his rendition of some old pop ballad tapering off into loud applause from directly outside his shower stall.

"that was really good!" came the voice (one that grian did not recognize - for better or for worse). "wow! you're an incredible singer." the shock of it all left grian speechless - speechless, and frankly a little incredulous at the nerve of his mysterious audience. really - who stood outside of someone's shower stall just...listening to them sing? what kind of stalker behavior was that? was it a fan who had somehow figured out where he went to college? he did have a fanbase, after all - small, but weirdly dedicated. but no, that didn't make sense - they would have had to have a keycard to get into the building, especially at this time of night when there wasn't really anyone coming. then who...?

a few moments and a hasty pair of pajamas later, grian pulled the stall door open to reveal -

oh.

oh.

sitting in front of him was a man - a very handsome man at that, all wide, green eyes and genuine, toothy smile. a very handsome man in a wheelchair, parked patiently in front of the only wheelchair-accessible shower stall on the whole floor - namely, the stall that grian had been using. hot shame rose in his cheeks as he shuffled out of the way, clutching his shower bag tightly to his chest.

"sorry," he blurted, sheepishly. "i...i, um...there's usually nobody taking showers this late at night during the week, and, uh, i didn't know that you...um...that...that anyone ever used...or needed to use...uh...oh god, sorry. yeah. sorry. i'll leave you to it."

he turned to scamper back to his dorm room, already anticipating the scolding he'd get from his roommate when he recounted the experience the next morning, but the man's loud laughter had him stopping in his tracks (and not because it was the most gorgeous laugh he'd ever heard in his life, no, definitely not that).

"it's okay!" the other affirmed, light eyes twinkling even in the dull florescent lighting. "no worries - i'm scar, by the way. i just moved in this week. had a bit of a late start - the university messed up some of my accommodations and originally had me over in schaffer."

"the dorms at the top of the hill?" grian gawked, his own blunder momentarily forgotten. "how do they expect you to get up and down that every day?" "my question exactly!" scar responded. "apparently, they "didn't think about that", so...here i am. a bit behind the curve, but hey, what can you do." "complain to the dean, frankly." "tried that. he didn't seem to care." "jesus. this place sucks." "you're telling me!"

a silence fell over the two, then, and grian shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling...exposed, under the piercing gaze from the other. he felt like scar was taking him apart with his eyes, studying every visible piece of him and stringing together opinions - conclusions - based on what he saw. fleetingly, grian wished that he'd bought that cute, matching pajama set he'd seen when he'd gone shopping with mumbo the week prior.

"anyway," scar started again, smooth voice cutting easily through the tension. "your voice is really good! i play the drums - we should hang sometime! maybe have a jammy session." "i - a...a what?" "a jammy session! y'know, where you get together and jammy out?" "scar, i think you mean jam out. a jam session?"

"oooooh," scar responded, raising a hand to scratch at his cheek. "yeah, that makes more sense. i thought there was something weird about that, but cub said 'no scar, you're right, it's a jammy session'. i should have known better than to trust that rapscallion." "oh! cub? i know cub! he's dating my roommate, mumbo!" "no way! that's so funny - small world! cub's so annoying about mumbo." "yeah, mumbo's annoying about him, too. it's kinda cute." "definitely cute." they fell into silence once more, one thankfully much less tense than the previous. grian found his eyes darting from scar's eyes to his faded t-shirt, to the small scar above his eyebrow, to the way his long, curly hair fell messily over his shoulder - taking in every aspect of his face, taking him apart in the same way that scar had done to him, mere moments earlier. maybe it was the late hour - maybe grian was more tired than he'd thought - but something about this felt like a dream...like he was going to blink and scar would be gone. he found that he didn't want that to happen. he found that he wanted to wake up tomorrow morning and get to hear that laugh again - that loud, joyful laugh - maybe every day for the rest of his life. "a jam session would be nice," he found himself saying. "maybe you can teach me how to play the drums. i'm really rubbish at most instruments, but maybe drums will be the exception?" "sounds great!" scar chirped back, a warm smile settling on his face. "we'll make a drummer out of you yet. hey - here's my number. text me in the morning, and we'll compare schedules. alright?" "yeah - okay, yeah, i'll do that. goodnight, scar." "goodnight, songbird." it was only an hour later, swaddled in blankets and the comfortable sound of mumbo's snoring, that grian realized he'd never given scar his name. ah well. that could be remedied...at a later date.

[squoxle]

✏ TNAIT 003: Do. Not. Get. Attached l.at fanfic

✰ pairing: nerdy!bandboy!anton x cheerleader!fem!reader| ✰ wc: 2.9k | ✰ cw: profanity, angst, sexual themes, kissing | ✰ plot: your friends catch on to the fact that you might actually be falling for this nerd, but their reaction to it sends you on a wild mission to try and convince them otherwise... [Series Masterlist]

"So...how'd everything go with Ponytail?" Dongmin asked Chanyoung at the cafe, after his shift.

"It actually went alright. That cheerleader isn't too bad," he shrugged as he sat in the chair across from him.

"Did you make any progress?"

"With her assignments? Not really. We had a little incident and just ended up hanging out for a bit after that."

"Well, don't get too cozy, alright."

"What do you mean? You're the one who got me hooked up with her in the first place."

"I know man, but just be careful. Remember that we're a part of different worlds."

"So what? Are you trying to say she's out of my league?"

"I-I just don't want you to get your heart broken again..."

"What are you talking about. We literally just met."

"I know but--"

"You're acting like I proposed to her. We're just friends. Relax," he said before taking a bite of pizza. He picked some up for the two of them to eat here.

For the next few weeks, you continued to see him. First, it was only 3 days out of the week, but by now it had escalated to 5 days. Your feelings for him grew, but you had to keep your little crush a secret, at least for now.

"I'm telling you right now. Do. Not. Get. Attached," Xoey said. She decided to join you at the cafe today. "I can see it in your eyes that you like him more than you're letting on."

"Let's just say I do like him. Is it really that big of a deal?"

"Are you insane? You're literally just using him to get your grades up. Any type of romance is out of the question," Xoey snapped.

"Can you believe she hasn't given him anything to help her?" Abigail chimed in.

"Nothing?" her eyes widened. "Hmm...interesting. Do you think he likes her back?"

"Eww. He better fucking not," Abigail rolled her eyes. "I swear if these two ever start dating, I'd actually vomit..."

"He's really not that bad," you shrugged.

"They have so many hot guys on the football team that you could easily pull. Don't settle for that dork," Abigail spat. You knew very well that she meant every word she said.

"Relax! I don't even like him like that. I already told you, I'm just being his friend so he can pull my grades up," you spat.

"Wait, wait, wait! So let me get one thing straight," Xoey interjected. "You two have just been buddy-buddy this whole time? You've never slept with him? Not even once?"

"Nope."

"Anything sexual at all? Maybe even a kiss?"

"She hasn't opened anything but her laptop for that geek," Abigail sighed as you shook your head.

"Okay, well if you really don't like him and it's all about the grades how about you prove it to us by kissing Nicholas," Xoey smirked.

"Omg, he is so fine," Abigail nearly moaned at the meer thought of him.

"Yeah, I know. And a little birdie told me that he's been looking at our girl. So this is gonna be a piece of cake," she grinned folding her hands together.

"Oh and to make it even better, you have to tell him that you've liked him forever," Abigail added.

"In front of sweet little Channie," Xoey spat.

"Girls, this is ridiculous," you wailed. "I already said I don't like him. I'm just using him for my grades. I seriously only see him as a friend," you lied.

"Do it and we won't hunt down your fanboy and tell him that you couldn't care less about him," Xoey raised an eyebrow as she leaned over the table, lowering her voice.

"And that you're just using him for the semester," Abigail added. "You've already told us how you're just gonna drop him anyway. So why not rip off the band-aid now?"

"Fine, fine! I'll do it," you exclaimed. "But not in front of him...that'll be too awkward."

Maybe it was the peer pressure of wanting to be accepted that influenced your decision. But whatever it was, there was some damage control you had to do first.

"So, what are we working on today," Chanyoung smiled as you sat down next to him.

"Hmm... well I finished writing one of my English assignments last night. Maybe you could just look over it for me first and then we can work on something else."

"Alright," he nodded as you slid your computer over to him and began scrolling through the contents of your essay.

“Umm…Chanyoung?”

“You can just call me Chan. It sounds less…formal,” he smiled.

“Okay. Well, do you have anything planned this weekend?”

“No, not really. Why?” He asked, turning away from the screen to look at you.

“I was wondering if maybe…you wanted to go out with me. N-not like a date or anything,” you chuckled. “Just as friends.”

“Yeah sure. It’s not like I’m doing anything anyway.”

“Great!” You smiled. “How do you feel about a movie at…I don’t know…6?”

“Yeah, 6 sounds good,” he laughed, admiring how sweet you were with him. Even though you said this would be a friendly date, you wanted to be more than that with him.

So what if your friends don’t like him. They’ll just have to get over it. After all, you just had to kiss Nicholas one time. It's not like you were signing yourself over in marriage, right?

"Well, umm...let's get back to studying and maybe we can hang out before you go to practice," he said, returning to the screen.

After cheer practice, Abigail dropped you off at home as usual. You waved to your parents and went straight to your room to clean yourself up for the night.

"Honey," your mom's voice called when you were in the bathroom. "When you're finished, your father and I would like to have a talk with you."

"Okay, I'm almost finished," you replied, before you heard her footsteps trail down the hall.

You had a very good feeling about what this conversation would be about. Lucky for you, you had the right answer.

"How are your grades looking?" your father asked as you sat on the couch.

"I'm actually doing a lot better," you nodded.

"Can you go get your laptop so I can see how they've improved?" he asked.

"Sure," you said before leaving the room. This conversation was just about as stale as you expected it to be. "Here it is," you turned the laptop to him, revealing your grades.

Politics — 85.97%

English — 94.81%

Math — 78.12%

Geography — 89.54%

"I have a few more assignments due this week that should bring my grades up even more," you smiled.

"This is great!" you mother chimed.

"I know we put a lot of pressure on you, but it's because we want you to succeed. I'm just glad to see that you're taking action on your own," your father began. "Without a tutor," he added.

You knew that wasn't completely true, but it's the lie you had to tell to keep everyone happy.

"Thanks," you said, closing the computer.

"Oh, before you go I wanted to address an issue," your father said as you were about to walk away. "I'm sure you've noticed by now that I froze your cards. Well, since you're obviously doing better I think you've earned that privilege back."

"Wow...I've never seen my dad so proud of me," you thought to yourself. "Then again, I've never let my grades drop like this."

"Goodnight, honey and keep up the good work," your parents smiled before you walked back to your room.

You wished that Chan was in your room right now so you could hug him. He's taken so much pressure off that you've even completed some of the assignments on your own. Meeting up with him has forced you to delegate time to your studies and giving him your login information was one of the best choices you made.

The next day at practice, you walked in to see one of your cheer mates in tears.

"What's going on?" you whispered to Janice. Abigail and the other girls were busy trying to console her.

"Word got out that Reina had been sleeping with another student to help her pass classes. Which is obviously a breach of the student code of conduct," she sighed leaning against one of the red lockers.

"So what's gonna happen to her?"

"Well, she's being suspended for the rest of the semester and will have a zero in all her courses, effective immediately. On top of that, she'll be on academic probation. Meaning, she'll be kicked from the cheer squad until she can complete a semester on her own with a GPA of 2.5 or higher."

You thought about the situation you were in right now. "That could've easily been me," you thought to yourself as you looked down at your feet. "If my parents ever found out about my little rendevous with Chanyoung they'd never trust me again..."

"Chanyoung," you gasped as you bumped into him in the halls.

"Heh, I didn't expect to see you here," he smiled.

"Well, it was nice seeing you Ponytail. But we kinda got somewhere to be," Dongmin spat as he grabbed onto Chanyoung's arm.

"Oh sorry, I wasn't trying to hold you up," you replied.

"No, it's alright. We were just going to grab something to eat before heading over to my place," Chanyoung said, turning back to you. "You can join us if you want."

"No, she can't," Dongmin interjected. "I'm sure she has something else to do."

"Dude--"

"No, he's right," you smiled, cutting him off. "I was just on my way to meet up with the girls. But maybe next time?"

"Yeah, definitely," he smiled, which just made Dongmin roll his eyes. "Oh, we're still on for this weekend right?"

"Yeah, totally," you chimed before jogging off to catch up with your friends.

"Eh hm? This weekend? What are you doing with her this weekend?"

"None of your business," Chan teased.

"What do you mean none of my business? You wouldn't even be talking to her if it weren't for me."

"Okay? I don't even see how that matters right now," Chan scoffed.

"Because you're falling for Ponytail and I can tell. I thought you didn't like cheerleaders. I guess everything's different now that you're holding hands with one?"

"Pft, what!?"

"Don't start playing dumb. It's written all over your stupid ass face. Every time she comes around and every time you talk about her you have that dumbass grin."

"Okay? So, what?"

"So you admit it? You do like her?"

"Yeah, I do. What's wrong with that?"

"She's so out of your league it isn't even funny."

"We're not in high school anymore. We can date whoever we want. Cliques don't exist here."

"Yes, they fucking do, but ever since you've been working for that high-strung cheering ditz you haven't been able to think straight."

"This is so fucking stupid. I'm not doing this with you, okay."

"The old you would've never been so blind."

"What are you talking about?"

"That bitch is two-faced as fuck," Dongmin spat.

"Whatever, man. You're just saying that because you're jealous."

"Jealous? God, you sound so much like those cock sucking sluts," Dongmin shook his head. "Wait, I just remembered that you're not even getting that from her, huh?" he chuckled. "She's just using you. She can't even bring herself to have romantic feelings for you. She's just pretending to be your friend so you can keep being her lovestruck slave."

"If you're gonna keep acting like that, I'd rather you just shut the fuck up."

"What? You don't believe me?"

"Fuck no and I'm honestly tired of hearing you bitch."

"Fine, you can go back to living out your little fantasy, but don't come crying to me when you find out I'm right."

"I think I'm gonna go home on my own tonight," Chan shook his head before walking off, leaving Dongmin behind. "See ya tomorrow, man."

"Yeah...later..."

Remembering the dare from yesterday you decided to go find Nicholas and "confess" to him. This really just meant setting up a situation where a kiss wouldn't seem so awkward. You just weren't really the type to randomly put your lips on someone.

"Hey, Nick," you smiled as you approached him in the hallway.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Well...I heard from someone that you've been looking at me," he smirked as he anticipated the next thing you were gonna say. "So..."

"So?"

"So, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out this weekend?"

"Umm lemme just check my schedule real quick," he chuckled, pulling out his phone to swipe his thumb across the screen. "Yep, this weekend sounds perfect. I'll pick you up at 5, okay."

"5?"

"Yeah, I have football practice until 3:45 and I still gotta shower and stuff."

"Oh...okay. Well, 5 sounds good," you smiled feinly.

"Alright, well I'll have to catch up with you later. I think you already have my number so if you wanna talk tonight we can," he smirked before pulling you in for a hug.

"Okay, I'll try to call you tonight if I'm not too busy," you said as he hugged you one more time before jogging to high-five the group of boys that waited at the other end of the hall.

As much as you wanted to see Chanyoung today, he was busy taking care of something with his brother. This gave you a little more time to bond with Nicholas...or Nick as you liked to call him.

"Hey, ____," Nicholas waved as he walked into the courtyard. "I got out of practice early today. If you're not busy did you wanna catch up a bit now?"

"Yeah, sure," you smiled.

One thing your friends didn't know was that you had a past with Nicholas. The two of you went to school together from Pre-K to 5th grade--middle school is when you both went your separate ways.

Though you never moved, Nicholas' father was stationed outside of the country. Fate had it that the two of you reconnected.

You thought back to the time he gave you a candy ring for your "wedding" in 1st grade. Even though you were just kids, it still felt so special.

It really sucked when he moved away that summer, but he made sure to send you a card on your birthday every year.

"Okay, so I have one question," he began as he walked beside you.

"What's that?"

"Did you really wanna go out with me? Or is this part of some master plan?"

"Uhh, why would you think that?" you scoffed.

"Come on, ____. I'm not stupid. I know when someone's trying to jerk me around."

"He always was quick," you thought to yourself. "Okay, fine."

"Yup, I knew it," he chuckled. "So what was it? A dare? A competition?"

"It was a dare...some of the girls from my squad think I like this guy--"

"Well are they right?"

"Yeah, but they don't really approve of him."

"So what? If you like him and he's a great guy who cares what your friends think?"

"Hmm...yeah I guess you're right."

"Ooooof course I am."

"Well, I still gotta do the dare...I already agreed to it."

"Okay," he laughed. "But what exactly do you have to do?"

"You're not gonna like this...."

"Just tell me."

"I have to kiss you..."

"That's it?"

"And tell you that I've liked you forever," though you were dared to say this, at one point (before you got to know Chanyoung) that was true.

"Easy-peasy," he smiled before pulling your in by your waist for a kiss.

"Nick!" you exclaimed as he burst out into laughter.

"Relax, I just wanted to get a reaction out of you," he smiled. "Here, I'll do it properly this time," he leaned in before gently placing a kiss on your lips. "How's that," he asked.

"Much better, but you can do it on my cheek next time," you tapped the plush of your cheek.

"Like this?" he playfully pecked your cheek.

"Yes!" you laughed. "You're enjoying the hell out of this and I know it," you smiled as he wrapped his arm around you.

"I'll drop you off at home tonight."

"Hmm? Why?"

"Well I kinda wanna go raid the gas station and I think I'd like you to be my partner in crime. I mean it's only fair. After all you're just using me to complete a dare."

"Hmm, okay. Well, let's get started now," you smiled as he walked you to his car.

"Hey," Chanyoung said dryly.

"Look, I know you don't wanna hear this, but there's something you gotta know about Ponytail."

"What is it now," he sighed.

"Earlier today, I saw her getting all gushy over this jock. And I don't mean some silly conversation. I saw them kissing. She's duping you, man."

Chanyoung sat in silence for a short while before finally speaking again. "You're not gonna stop, are you?"

"What are you talking about, Chan? I just gave you proof."

"No, what you gave me was some more bullshit stories you sat around concocting all day."

"Dude, I--"

"I don't wanna argue about this again, okay. Just drop it already."

"Chan..."

"Forget it...I'm going to sleep."

Later that night, after Nicholas dropped you off, you laid across your bed, staring up at the ceiling as you though to yourself...

"How the hell am I gonna be in two places at once?"

Thanks for reading the second episode of my series. [Series Masterlist]

Click this link to go to my main masterlist and stay tuned for the next episodes.

CURRENT TAGLIST: @chlorinecake @addictedtohobi @nikisvanillaccola @laylasbunbunny @urfavberry @antonitty @billiondollarworth @meowbini @mamuljji @riizeis-7 @littlebrightsrar @jisfairy @galorehearts @misfit-nvrfitin @siuewnb @ot7sevenlvr @earth2hannah @professsionalsimp @fairyofhours @wonbinkisser @lovelymulti @annielovescry @antosaurius @inlovekyo @luv4stxrs @v4mpsunghoon @rikiiminaj @brachiobun @pointlessapple @antititititoni @mrkvrse @ywnzn @kisplayhouse @strawberryhillsworld @cartimitsuya @jungwon15 @hanni711 @tsukkiteamo @hajoon-iz-won @songgmingii @bloodiichainzzxx @sunnynearthecoast @riris-a-mess @deewly @ericlvr @freeluvbot @pandajihoonn @mint-yooniverse @pwarksasteroid @huan9jun @zixoxos @snowyseungs @mintmyg @moonchild-please-dont-cry @taeheartss @seesawh @chloelr60 @dodot04lover @firedalarm-blog @kazscara

[yxngbxkkie]

secret secret (b.c)

hello :) i've been thinking about frat!chris for a while, and i finally had enough motivation to write this idea!! i do hope you like it! 🩷🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

“Thanks for coming again,” Yeji tells you while handing you a mixed drink. She smiles at you as you grab a hold of the cup, and you shrug your shoulders.

“It's the least I can do, Yej. It's our last semester, so I might as well attend one frat party, hm?” You ask her with a giggle, taking a sip of the drink.

She laughs with you as she drinks from her cup as well. The vibrations of the music echo off the walls, and you can feel it from within you. Your eyes look around the dimly lit room, barely able to make out other students' faces.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you see Chris, the President of the Frat you're in. You can feel your cheeks flush, and you quickly tear your gaze away from him, not wanting him to catch you looking at him.

“I heard he's single again,” Yeji informs you, her arm nudging yours.

“Who?” You ask, knowing exactly who she's talking about.

She gives you a look before motioning towards Chris. “The guy you've been in love with for a year,” she tells you with a laugh, draping an arm over your shoulder.

Your heart hammers in your chest, baffled that she's aware of your feelings for Chris. You grow embarrassed and gulp down some of your drink. “I'm not in love with him,” you mutter, lying through your teeth.

Chris Bang is different from other students. He's extremely kind, respectful, and caring. The first time you talked to him, you didn't expect him to be so nice to you.

The two of you are in the same major, so you've worked together. He was your partner for a project a few semesters ago. Those are the only times you hung out with him. You've never hung out with him outside of the school grounds.

“There's no way he'd ever go for me,” you shake your head, looking at the liquid in your plastic cup.

Yeji rolls her eyes playfully. “You don't know that!” She tells you, smacking your arm gently. “You should try talking to him tonight.”

“I'll think about it,” you tell her, knowing she'll keep pestering you if you decline.

She pats your back as you finish your cup. You mention quickly that you'll be back, walking towards the kitchen to remake your drink.

You set your cup down as you look through the selection of liquor. A pair of hands rest on your shoulders, making you jump in your spot. You look over your shoulder, seeing Minho standing behind you with a smile.

“I never thought I'd see you here,” he chuckles before hugging you.

You hug him for a few seconds before looking back at the alcohol. “As I told Yeji, it's our last semester,” you repeat your words while smiling at him.

Minho nods his head and grabs one of the bottles. “Well, let's celebrate with a shot, hm?” He asks with a grin.

“Ah, okay,” you agree hesitantly, knowing you're a complete lightweight.

You watch him as he fills up two shot glasses, passing one of them to you. You pick it up and clink the glasses together. You down the shot in one gulp, squeezing your eyes shut at the taste.

“Oh, God,” you cringe, your upper body shivering. “That's horrible.”

Minho laughs as he sets the glasses in the sink. He pats your back afterward, and you go back to making a drink. “How's the dance classes going?” You ask while grabbing the ingredients to make a screwdriver.

“It's going well! Did Yeji tell you that we're doing our final together?” He mentions, watching you pour the various liquids in your cup.

“She did! She told me that she's really excited about it,” you giggle, already feeling the effects of the liquor. You stir your drink before taking a sip, humming in delight.

“She is. We both are. The dance style we got is one of our favorites,” Minho explains, making his own drink.

Before you have the chance to say anything else, Yeji and Chris walk up to the both of you. Your eyes widen a smidge, and you straighten your posture.

“Hey, Y/N! Yeji told me you were here,” Chris mentions with a kind smile, bringing you into a quick hug.

Your heart pounds against your chest as you hug him, wrapping your free arm around his shoulder. “Hey, Chris. It's been a while,” you greet him with a shy smile, taking a sip of liquid courage after.

Yeji grabs a hold of Minho's arm, tugging him away from you and Chris. You can see her give you a thumbs up from behind the man standing in front of you.

You swear that you're going to lock her out of the dorm later on. “Y/N?” Chris calls out your name, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Hm? I'm sorry,” you apologize, getting embarrassed.

He smiles at you and shakes his head. “It's okay. I asked how you've been,” Chris repeats himself, moving to the fridge to grab himself some water.

“You're not drinking?” You ask him with furrowed brows.

“No, I don't really like drinking,” he laughs before drinking from the bottle of water.

You hum, a little bit surprised as you drink some more. Silence fills the space between the two of you, and you begin to feel a little awkward.

“I'm going to check on the other guests. If I run into you again, let's talk some more,” Chris pats your arm gently before walking away from you.

You didn't even say anything, and as soon as he's out of sight, you cringe. “Can I be any more awkward?” You ask yourself, chugging the rest of your drink.

Chris finds you again a couple of hours later, and you're piss drunk. After he greets you, his hands find a place on your waist to keep you steady.

“Hi, Chris,” you giggle, leaning in closer to him.

He doesn't know how to feel. He's never seen this side of you, only talking to you about school most of the time. Chris’ heart skips a beat in his chest as you almost stumble over.

“Okay, it's time to get some rest,” he mentions, looking around for Yeji. His eyes find Minho, remembering that he was with Yeji earlier.

Chris helps you sit on the couch, your head leaning against the back of it. “I'll be right back, okay?” He asks you, holding your hand to keep your attention.

You nod your head, squeezing his hand in yours. “Okay,” you whisper before closing your eyes.

He walks up to Minho, patting his back. “Hey, do you know where Yeji is? Y/N's pretty drunk,” he informs him, taking a quick glance back at you.

“Shit, already?” Minho asks, looking in the direction Chris was looking. He winces in guilt at the sight of you, knowing how weak your tolerance is. “Yeji is linking up with someone. Could you take her home? I'll let Yeji know as soon as she's done.”

Chris bites on his bottom lip, not knowing how to feel about the situation. He doesn't know you that well, and he doesn't want to come off the wrong way.

“I trust you to get her home safely, Chris,” Minho interrupts his thoughts, snapping him from his daze.

“Okay, yeah. Text me her address,” he agrees while starting to walk back towards you. He gently reaches his hand out to you, nudging your hand. “Y/N, hey.”

You slowly open your eyes, blinking the fogginess away. You can still feel the effects of the alcohol. “Hi, Chris,” you giggle, smiling at him.

He smiles back at you, finding your intoxicated self to be quite adorable. “I'm going to take you home, okay?” He mentions while grabbing your hand, helping you up from the couch.

Your body gets pressed to his chest as Chris keeps you steady. “Sorry, I'm all over the place,” you slur your words, clutching onto the flannel he's wearing.

“You're okay,” he chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist.

It takes Chris almost half an hour to get you out of the frat house and back to your apartment. Your body collides with your mattress, a groan leaving your lips at the comfy feeling.

You look around for Chris, seeing him standing by your dresser. “You don't need to do anything else,” you tell him, making him jump at the sudden noise.

A groan comes from your lips as you sit yourself up. “Are you sure? I don't know if sleeping in that will be comfortable,” he mentions, taking a few steps closer to you.

“I'll be okay, Chris,” you giggle. You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “Thank you for bringing me home. You're so… sweet.”

“It's not a problem, Y/N. I wanted to make sure that you got home safely,” Chris exclaims while squeezing your hand.

You stare up at him, and your heart pounds against your chest. “I– I'm in love with you,” you stutter over your words, feeling your face flush. “You're so perfect.”

Chris stares at you with wide eyes, your hand slipping from his. You slowly lay on your side, your eyes drooping shut as sleep takes over your drunken body.

“Y/N?” He asks, nudging your arm a bit. He releases a huff of breath and helps you lay in bed normally. Chris pulls the covers of your body, making sure you're completely covered before walking out of your apartment.

~

Chris sits with Jisung and Changbin, the two chatting about how they want their first demo to go. He's not paying attention to what either of them are saying, his eyes glued to your figure walking across the campus food court.

It's been three months since he brought you home from the party he threw. Three months since you drunkenly confessed that you're in love with him. Ever since then, he's been seeing you in a light he's never seen before.

You're gorgeous, stunning, actually. A part of him is shocked that you don't have people going after you. Chris’ eyes don't leave you for one second as you sit at a table with Yeji and Minho.

His breath hitches in his throat when you suddenly meet his gaze. You smile at him and he returns his before looking away from you.

“You're so obvious, did y'know that?” Changbin laughs, sipping from his coffee after.

“What are you talking about?” Chris asks, resting his chin against the palm of his hand.

Jisung nudges his arm, intervening, “you've been staring at someone for a while.” Changbin nods his head, agreeing with what Jisung said.

He rolls his eyes, dismissing what his friends are telling him. Jisung looks past Changbin, trying to pinpoint who Chris was intensely staring at. When the younger man finds your figure sitting with Minho, his boba eyes widen.

“Is that Y/N?!” Jisung asks him, whispering so no one around can hear. Chris just nods his head in answer, a gasp leaving Jisung’s lips.

“Woah, okay,” Changbin interrupts, holding his hands up a smidge. “You have to explain. Y/N’s the girl from our music production class a few semesters ago?”

The oldest out of the trio nods his head once again, already feeling his ears turn red. He brings a hand up to them, gently pinching the shell of his ear.

“Yeah. We had a project together, and she was really nice. Extremely smart, too,” Chris starts to explain, releasing a quick sigh. “Do you remember the party we threw a few months ago?”

“Yes,” both Changbin and Jisung reply simultaneously.

Chris laughs a bit, finding it funny that the two are so invested in this. “Well, she was there with Yeji. She ended up having too much to drink, and I had to bring her home,” he continues telling the story, his eyes going back to your figure. “and before she passed out, she confessed that she was in love with me.”

Both of his friends' jaw drops, causing him to roll his eyes again. “So, you mean to tell me this gorgeous girl is head over heels for you?” Jisung sums up the second part of the story. “Does she know that you know?”

“I don't think so,” Chris leans back on his chair. “She hasn't really spoken to me since that night. We don't have any classes together this year.”

“Why not go up to her now?” Changbin asks, raising an eyebrow.

Chris plays with his fingers, feeling nervous about the idea. “What if she didn't mean it?” He asks instead, locking eyes with Changbin.

“Have you heard of the phrase, “drunk words are sober thoughts?”” Jisung asks, giving him a bewildered look.

“Just go ask her out,” Changbin mutters to him, slapping his hands.

Chris slides his chair back, and both of his friends begin to freak out. People around them start to notice, and he gives the two a look.

“Sorry,” Jisung mumbles, running a hand through his hair. He pats Chris’ arm, grinning up at him. “Go get ‘em tiger!”

You're listening to Yeji tell you about the date she went on over the weekend. You giggle at how she tells the story and take a bite of your lunch.

Minho's eyes flicker to the right and it captures your attention to look as well. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of Chris walking up to your table.

“What's happening?” You ask in a whisper, mainly asking yourself.

His eyes lock with yours and he greets you with a smile. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hey, Chris,” you shyly greet him, lifting a hand to wave.

You watch him rub his hands on his jeans before he clears his throat. “Uhm, I was wondering–” he pauses, his eyes glancing towards Yeji and Minho, who are also watching him. “Do you know the studio we used for our project?”

You blink repeatedly, not expecting that question from him. “Yeah, why?” You ask with your head tilted a bit.

“Can you meet me there in a couple of hours? I want to talk to you about something,” he asks you, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, I can,” you agree, nodding your head.

Chris smiles, nodding his head as well. “Great, okay. I'll see you soon, then,” he mentions before quickly walking away.

Your lips are parted in surprise, not knowing what the hell just happened. Yeji slaps your hand while her free one covers her mouth.

“What the hell was that!?” She asks, also surprised.

“I don't know, honestly,” you tell her, fiddling with your fingers.

She pats your hand comforting before reassuring you. “Maybe he finally realized how pretty you are,” Yeji winks, causing you to giggle.

“Maybe,” you chuckle, tucking some hair behind your ear.

~

You're standing outside the studio that you and Chris have worked in before. You can see the light on from under the door, so you know that he's in there. You take a couple of deep breaths, feeling a little nervous.

You knock on the door and take half of a step back. The door opens up not even ten seconds later, revealing the man you've been in love with. He smiles at you, welcoming you in the small room.

He shuts the door behind you as you sit down on the leather couch. “What'd you want to talk to me about?” You ask him, deciding to get this anxious conversation over with.

Chris sits down on the computer chair, turning it so he's facing you. “Do you remember the party I had a few months ago?” He asks you, his gaze moving from you to his hands.

“Of course. I don't remember much from that night, but I remember showing up,” You nod your head, giggling a bit.

“I ended up bringing you home,” he mentions, and your eyes widen. You don't remember how you got home. You just assumed it was Yeji or Minho. “And, when I was in your apartment… you told me something.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. No… “I didn’t– I mean,” you stutter, beginning to freak out.

Chris reaches his hand out, gently taking your hand into his. “It's okay. I promise,” he reassures you, stroking the back of your hand. “You told me that you were in love with me. Is it true?”

You take a deep breath, feeling yourself shake just a little bit. “I… Yeah, I am. I'm sorry that I told you. I was drunk, obviously–”

“Will you go to dinner with me?” Chris cuts you off by asking you out.

“What?” You whisper, your heart skipping a beat. “Did you just–”

“Ask you out? Yes, I did,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand.

You smile at him softly, giggles leaving your lips. “Are you going to cut me off every sentence if I say yes?” You ask jokingly, squeezing his hand.

Chris laughs, and he shakes his head. “No, never. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to,” he says with a kind grin, reducing the space between you two. “I was panicking, and I didn't want you to think that I was going to reject you.”

“You're fine, Chris,” you reassure him.

His free hand comes to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?” He asks you.

Your cheeks blush at his question, finding yourself nodding your head. Chris tilts his head to the side, capturing your lips in a shy kiss.

You grab a hold of the shirt he's wearing, kissing him back immediately. He releases your hand to wrap his arm around you, pressing your body against his.

He breaks away from the kiss, his chocolate eyes looking into yours. You feel like you're on cloud nine. Never in your life did you think that you'd pull Christopher Bang, yet here he is, kissing you like his life depends on it.

“Are you free this weekend?” He asks you, resting his forehead on yours.

“I have to bring Yeji and Minho somewhere, but after that, I'm all yours,” you grin, brushing your nose against his.

Chris reconnects your lips, giving you a short kiss. “Perfect.”

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n