#clearly the vibes in the locker room are high

[pwhlminnesota]

[tobesolnelyx]

Fratboy!Jackie x Mean Girls (Regina George)!Reader *Smut

Jackie and R hated each other to the core. They're both on opposite end of the college spectrum, fraternity and sorority, athlete and cheerleader. Both side always throw extravagent party, trying to one up one another. Both competitive and stubborn as hell. Throwing insults, shade everytime they're around each other. They're both really smart so showing off during lectures at uni. Like the prof as smth, one will answer then the other is like "well, actually..."

Hate fucking, choking (reader recieving), dirty talk, enemies/rivals to lovers, public/semi-public fucking (party/bathroom/locker room...), degrading, praising, R being a pillow princess,.. you can add more kink if you like

- 🐡

— style || fratboy!jackie taylor x sorority girl!reader 🍯 part 1.

a/n: hello 🐡 anon! SO, took me long enough, but i needed to rethink everything. that dynamic gives me vibe of 1989 by taylor swift (jules , stop talking about taylor at the beggining of every ff chellange). i decided to add some things, too <3.

summary: there's a thin line between hate and..desire? or maybe it was never really hate? modern college au. smut. rivals to lovers. g!p jackie.

warnings: NSFW content - MDNI. choking, hate sex, degrading, praising, public/semi-public sex. slight internalised homophobia...?

word count: around 3.3k.

Jackie Fucking Taylor had the audacity—yet again—to cut into your statement. Your goddamn literary analysis that you'd spent hours preparing for this seminar. And she demolished it, just like that, with one dumbass sentence that, in your opinion, didn’t even make much sense. As usual.

You shot her a look filled with as much murderous irritation as you could muster. The next words burst from your mouth like cannon fire.

“What is that bullshit even?” you snapped, your lip curling just enough to remind Jackie how profoundly repulsed you were by her entire existence—and her loud, insufferable mouth.

Jackie sprawled at her desk, raising her eyebrows with mock innocence. Her fingers, heavy with rings, tapped against the desk in a steady rhythm that made you genuinely question how she could even lift her hand. That smug little smirk played across her face as she met your glare with one of her own.

“Miss…” the professor began, clearly repulsed, but you were already too far gone. You silenced him with a flick of your wrist. Normally, that would’ve been unthinkable—but the two of you clashed so often that the elderly professor merely sighed and collapsed back into his chair.

“I’m simply saying your analysis is flawed,” Jackie began, her tone maddeningly casual—like she wasn’t doing this just to get under your skin. But you knew better. This was all to rile you up. And to be fair, it was working.

“Analysis is subjective, Taylor,” you hissed, crossing your legs as your high ponytail swayed with the motion. Your perfectly manicured nails dug into your palms. “Ever heard of something called interpretation, or are you too thick to know words like that?”

Jackie remained unfazed. She merely shrugged, like none of it mattered—though you knew full well she was enjoying every single second.

“I know it’s subjective,” she shot back, slow and deliberate, as if she were explaining algebra to a particularly dim-witted child. “But that doesn’t mean I have to agree with it.”

At that point, every student in the lecture hall had turned to watch. The exchange had taken on the rhythm of a tennis match. Not that it was the first time you’d gone at it like this. And not that anyone ever took it seriously. If anything, people saw your rivalry as entertainment—a welcome distraction from dry lectures and a prime subject for gossip. You two were practically the headline act of the university.

“Which is why you should shut that smartass mouth of yours,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “No one asked for your opinion on my analysis.”

“If I had a choice,” Jackie snapped back almost instantly, “I wouldn’t even engage in conversation with someone whose intellectual level rivals a cockroach. But I couldn’t stand to hear any more of that idiocy.” She rolled her eyes and then grinned like a fuckass cat who’d just knocked over a vase on purpose.

“Oh, forgive me,” you replied with exaggerated sweetness, placing a hand on your chest. Your gold jewelry gave a soft chime. “Next time, I’ll politely ask you to haul your annoying ass out of here and—”

A loud clap echoed through the lecture hall, cutting you off mid-sentence. You pressed your lips into a thin, furious line, bracing for the inevitable dressing-down from the professor. Honestly, you were still amazed neither of you had been sent to the dean’s office yet.

“Enough, ladies,” the professor said, casting you both a weary glance. “For next class, you’ll prepare a joint analysis project.” His voice was almost too cheerful. “Spend some time together. Maybe it’ll help you... ease the tension.”

“Seriously?” Jackie groaned, shifting in her seat.

“It’s decided,” the professor said with a smile so polite it bordered on cruel. For once, you swallowed your retort. “And the rest of the class will bear witness,” he added, gesturing broadly to the rows of silent, watching students.

Worse than a trip to the dean’s office. Ugh.

So, the very next day, your boyfriend’s arm was slung casually over your shoulder as he walked you to the library. Typical Jeff—trying to cheer you up. The problem was, Jeff was far too dumb to grasp why you were actually furious about the whole situation. He lived in this clueless little bubble where you and Jackie just didn’t get along, and that was that. End of story.

Except—it wasn’t. There were a million reasons.

The main one being that Jackie was an absolute asshole.

She was already there when you walked into the library. Bored, playing with her phone, but when the door creaked open, she looked up. Her brows knit together, and her lips curled into the tiniest sneer as Jeff pulled you into a long kiss. He smelled like the cheapest cologne imaginable and tasted like—well, like man. Which, in itself, was mildly revolting.

When he finally pulled away—having clearly marked his territory like a fucking dog pissing on a bush—he gave your ass a quick squeeze. You smacked his hand without hesitation. Jeff just raised both hands in mock innocence, grinning like the idiot he was, and moments later, he was gone.

"Good luck!" he called over his shoulder, and you cringed behind his back. As if that wasn’t bad enough, you were now stuck staring at Jackie Taylor, seated just a few meters away.

Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

"Wow. Which one is that this month?" she snorted, putting her phone aside. You glared daggers at her as you sat across the table.

You never kept a boyfriend around for long. Not because no one wanted you—quite the opposite. Besides being a total bitch to everything with a pulse, you were hot, popular, and smart. Half the university drooled when you walked by. Not to mention you were in a sorority and on the cheer squad.

And Jeff wasn’t even the worst, honestly. The problem was… guys didn’t really do it for you. Some part of you had a suspicion why, but you refused to let that thought take root. It was easier to pretend—to tell yourself and everyone else that you just hadn’t found the right one yet. That it would happen eventually. Even if your stomach twisted every time you considered that maybe it never would, and one day you’d have to admit what this was really about.

"At least I can get into a relationship instead of putting dick into anything that moves," you said sweetly, your smile so fake it could’ve given someone cavities.

Jackie mirrored your twisted grin and reached into her bag for what was likely the only notebook she owned. You rolled your eyes, pulled out your iPad, and tapped the screen with a manicured nail.

You’d agreed to do this project—begrudgingly. Mainly because it still had to get done. Somehow. It's always an occasion to get a good great, after all. You’d sent Jackie a long, detailed message laying out the terms: when you’d meet, how you’d divide the work, your expectations. She replied with a single word:

"Ok."

Seriously? That infuriated you even more than if she’d tried to start a fight again. For some godforsaken reason, you wanted her to care. You wanted your presence to burn her the way hers burned you. Maybe that was why you kept pushing her—trying to make her snap.

"Seriously?" she asked now, eyeing your iPad with skepticism.

"Not all of us write like cavemen," you muttered, snapping open the pink case and proudly picking up your pen. Jackie frowned, a grimace settling on her face like something rotten had wafted under her nose.

"Cavemen didn’t—"

"I know." You cut her off coldly. Any trace of amusement had vanished from your face. "Shut up."

"Make me," she shot back without missing a beat.

You looked at her. Then, without warning, you kicked her under the table—hard.

"Hey!" she snapped, ready to retaliate or start another fight entirely—but the librarian beat her to it.

"Quiet down, girls!" she hissed, waving at you from across the room with a whisper-shout. Jackie fell silent. She may have been a jerk, but she wasn’t the kind to ruin the entire room’s peace just because you decided to be difficult.

"See? Quiet the fuck down," you hissed at her, straightening on the chair.

Jackie pinned you with a sharp glare, clearly about to snap back at you—but then you stood up abruptly, as if driven by some impulse she couldn’t quite place. She blinked, thrown off by the sudden movement, but after a second, she followed. Step for step. Like a lost puppy.

Because no matter how much Jackie liked to pretend otherwise, she craved your attention in some completely fucked-up way. Maybe because, if she was honest with herself, you were the only truly interesting part of her life.

"Mind telling me what you're doing?" she asked, her voice sharp yet barely above a whisper—clearly trying not to piss off the librarian, but unmistakably annoyed that you had just walked off without a word.

Jackie had to know everything about your life, didn’t she?

"I’m getting the book we need," you said, shrugging, irritated by the way she tailed you, like she couldn’t bear even a few feet of distance between you.

"You could’ve said something," she scoffed. "Or do I not deserve to know?"

Her steps quickened to keep up. Maybe she hadn’t taken the whole cheerleading thing seriously at first, but even she had to admit—training had done something to you. And not just in the way you zipped between the shelves like a little machine. Jackie tried not to stare at your toned legs and arms—but honestly, it felt like they were staring at her!

"Seriously?" You stopped in front of one of the shelves and rolled your eyes. You put your hands on your hips and scanned the spines intently. "You're makin a drama over this?"

The reply came quickly. Jackie stopped too—too close to you—and crossed her arms with a huff. At least you’d gotten under her skin. Her usual mask of indifference was long gone now.

"I just think we should communicate—" she began, but you silenced her with a single raised hand. Even though she was taller, you looked at her with that same practiced superiority—chin tilted high.

And for some reason… Jackie fell quiet.

"It’s just a stupid project, and you’re acting like a child—"

"It’s an important project," she interrupted, because of course she did. You waved your hand dismissively, the corners of your mouth lifting in a smug smile.

Jackie went silent again, clearly thrown off by how easily—how confidently—you commanded her.

"You’re acting like a child," you repeated, clearing your throat and ignoring her failed interruption. "Go back and just wait for me. If I say we need this book, it means we need this book. You’ll survive a few minutes without my attention."

With that, you spun on your heel, the smugness practically radiating off of you. You were satisfied. Jackie Taylor, utterly speechless. A rare win.

But just as you turned away, you felt her hand clamp down on your forearm—hard enough to bruise.

You whipped around, outraged—but Jackie only pulled you closer. There was something burning in her eyes, and for a second, you thought she was going to slap you. Like this was it. All the venom between you had finally boiled over.

You were already rehearsing your apology in your head when it happened.

Jackie kissed you.

Well—no. It wasn’t exactly a kiss. Her lips crashed into yours in a way that wasn’t tender or romantic. It was messy. Angry. Sudden. For a moment, you froze. Completely stunned. The scent of her cologne hit you—so different from Jeff’s cheap spray—and surprisingly... kind of nice. Her grip on your arm, though firm, was somehow softer than any man’s hand had ever been.

Jackie Taylor was kissing you.

Her lips were insistent, warm, a little chapped. Your brain noted that she should really invest in some lip balm. And you didn’t keep that thought to yourself.

"Jesus," you muttered, gently pushing her back. Jackie looked like she was about to apologize. Her lips were red, slightly swollen, and—for the first time in your life—you saw something in Jackie’s expression that resembled fear.

"You ever heard of lip balm?"

You scoffed, eyes fixed on her. Her mouth opened like a fish out of water, caught somewhere between words and breath. But you didn’t give her the chance to respond.

Because for some strange, unknown (or maybe not-so-unknown) reason, you leaned forward—

—and kissed her again.

Jackie’s eyes widened in pure shock, and for a brief second, her grip on your arm loosened. But before you could fully register what had just happened, she was kissing you back.

The distant rustle of turning pages and hushed conversations faded into background noise. The only thing you could focus on was the sound of your own staggered breath as her mouth stole the air from yours, over and over again.

There was little romance in it—this was hunger. Raw, barely-contained hunger Jackie must have buried deep inside for far too long. And in the heat of it, you felt something crack open inside you, a truth you’d been trying not to name.

It only took a few seconds for her tongue to slip past your lips, and for a soft moan to escape your throat. A few more, and she had you pressed against the nearest bookshelf. You found yourself silently praying the whole row wouldn’t come crashing down around you.

Your fingers gripped the front of her jacket, unsure whether to shove her away or pull her closer. Jackie made the decision for you. Her entire body pressed flush against yours, her hands clamped onto your hips with such force, you were sure she'd leave bruises.

She was panting into your mouth now. The kiss had turned messy, rough. Teeth clashed, her tongue explored your mouth with shameless urgency. And you—God help you—you kissed her back with equal intensity, whimpering softly into her lips. You didn’t stop her.

Suddenly, the air felt a hundred degrees hotter.

Your thighs clenched involuntarily, prompting Jackie to force them apart with a sudden, almost reckless urgency that nearly sent you off balance.

“Could you not—” you began, pulling away slightly. You’d forgotten how to breathe properly, reduced to panting against her lips. You wanted to press your thighs together again, deny her the satisfaction of seeing the telltale dampness already spreading across your underwear — all from kissing, for god’s sake. No man had ever made you feel like this, and that only made it worse — a cruel confirmation of something you weren't ready to admit.

“Can you shut up?” she almost growled at you. The bluntness caught you off guard—enough that, honestly, you did. You tried to say something back, but her warm hand clamped gently over your mouth, like the very idea of you speaking might shatter something fragile between you.

“Quiet,” she murmured, voice low and firm. She was still giving you the chance to push her away. But instead, you pulled her closer.

It was almost shameful how quickly your body responded the moment Jackie took control. You’d always hated the way men tried to dominate — their rough hands, their entitled words whispered in the dark, like they owned the moment. But when Jackie was pushing your legs wide, and in her cock swiftly became hard, turned out that panties are sticking to your cunt and you're utterly soaked.

Jackie hooked your leg over her hip, and when you felt her throbbing erection (maybe through layers of her clother, but still erection), pressing to your core, you decided to worry later about how pathetic you were in that very moment.

Sure, there was a risk. Jackie could run her mouth, tell everyone. You weren’t naive. One quickie wasn’t going to make you suddenly like each other, wasn’t going to erase years of spite and eye-rolls. But the truth was — you didn’t want it to stop all that. And something in the way Jackie touched you, in the way her breath trembled against your skin like she needed this more than she’d ever admit, told you she didn’t either.

Her pre-cum started mixing with your juices, completely ruining your panties, and making large wet spot both on the fabric of your skirt and her jeans. Jackie started whining like wounder animal when she started rutting against you like dog in the heat. Her head fell on your arm and she was moaning quietly, ocasionally biting your shoulder.

She was steadily rubbing her dick against your clothed cunt, throbbing almost painfully in her pants. You let her desperately humping against you still fully covered and for the first time in her life, Jackie was reduced to needy puddle between your legs.

"Jackie," you moaned through her fingers on your mouth. Finally, it seemed like she decided that she's not fully satisfied with this position, cause the next second, your chest was pressed firmly against bookshelf. Her hand lighlty gripped your throat just enough to reduce your air supply but not quietly choking you yet. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head and more juices coated your thighs. Pathetic that...from all of the things, that was something that turned you on even more.

In some, fucked up way, her larger form was stabilising you from behind. Her cock was pressed tighlty against your ass, but Jackie still kept it in her pants. Even when it was leaking furiously with pre-cum. Probably because she didn't have condoms now. Her other hand slid lower until it reached uncovered piece of your thigh.

You shuddered lightly, but she didn't even smiled like you thought she will. Her smug smirk disappeared somewhere and she could only pant in your shoulder, grinding against your ass.

"Quiet, quiet..." she was muttering next to your ear, when her hand wandered under the fabric of your skirt, and you moaned. "We don't want anyone to hear us, right?" She murmured, pressing wet kiss to your shoulder. Your head fell against her, and she was still rubbing her cock against your ass, trying to find any release for her arosual.

Her hand gripped your throat tighter and in that moment, your legs started to tremble violently. You whined like wounded animal when her fingers found fabric of your utterly soaked panties, pushing it aside. She moaned softly, feeling how wet you are for her. Her hips jerked, your ass was flushed against her clothed dick.

"I didn't know you're so easy," she murmured again, and you started squirming so she pressed you even further to the bookshelf. Her hips rubbed faster, her fingers were making small circles on your clit, teasing you. "What happened?" She asked mockingly. "You're always barking so fucking loud and now you can't...choke out anything?"

She chuckled lightly, sound right from her throat. You felt how her cock was grinding more urgently, faster and harder.

"Can Jeff do it?" She whispered venomously to your ear, and you moaned in protest. "Or maybe you're completely fucking dry with him? Does he even know where your clit is, huh?" She scoffed and wihtout any warning, almost brutally, she pushed two fingers deep inside your velvet walls. You whined so she choked you harder. "You're supposed to be quiet," she reminded you.

She started slowly pumping her fingers in and out. They were going inside smoothly since you were dripping wet, and you were coating them with your juices. With each push, they were deeper and deeper until they hit this sweet spot of yours. You were whimpering quietly, unable to let out louder noise because of the hand on your neck.

"Jackie..." You managed to croak out only, but her whole fingers were buried inside you, and if she wasn't holding you, you were sure you'd landed on the library floor.

Right. You just realised that anyone could see there two of you. The only problem was, that you couldn't exactly bring yourself to care about anything else than Jackie's cock and fingers, which were moving faster inside your cunt.

"Pathetic," Jackie panted quietly into your ear. "You're bitching at me only to cum on my fingers in the span of minutes?" She barked a laughter.

"Im not pathetic..." You tried to protest, but she quickly cut you off by fucking you harder, ripping out serie of soft moans from your throat.

"You are," she said firmly not leaving you much to say back. "And now, just like good fucking girl you are, you're going to shut the hell up for once in your life and cum on my fingers, got it?"

But when only weak moaned answered her, she started rubbing your clit with her thumb, making you see white stars. You could barely stand straight on your feet.

"Y-yeah," you stuttered weakly.

"See? Just like my good girl," she said and pressed kiss to your shoulder again. Her fingers were squelching obscenely. Every single time she was hitting the same damn sweet spot until your finger started clenching on her long fingers. You bit your lower lip, thumb of her other hand started almost gently rubbing your throat. "C'mon, babe, you're doing great. Just a little more..."

Another few pushes inside you, made you cum hard on her fingers, almost alarming whole damn library that Jackie Fucking Taylor just fucked you. Cheating on your boyfriend and..

And realising things you didn't want to acknowledge.

[skzstarl0ver]

𝙂𝙮𝙢 𝘽𝙧𝙤

Changbin x reader / friends to lovers / jealous! Changbin/ smut and kinda fluff

**involves!!** public sex, teasing, praise kink, sexual touch, dirty talk, 'you are mine' vibe

enjoy xx (open for request)

★.•☆•.★★.•☆•.★¸.•☆•.¸★ skzstarl0ver ★⡀.•☆•.★⡀.•☆•.★¸.•☆•.¸★

You weren’t sure how exactly you ended up here—doing Romanian deadlifts at 9AM, sleep in your eyes and thighs already trembling—but it definitely had something to do with the loud, sweaty, infuriatingly attractive man currently shouting encouragement from behind you.

“That’s it, keep your back straight. Yeah, just like that,” Changbin said, voice annoyingly smug. “You're doing so good, bro.”

You glared at him through the mirror.

“Stop calling me ‘bro’ when you’re basically breathing down my neck.”

He grinned, not the least bit sorry. “I’m your gym bro. That’s literally in the contract.”

You huffed, lowering the weights carefully. “I don’t remember signing a contract.”

Changbin shrugged, handing you your water bottle like the menace he was. “Verbal agreement. You said—and I quote—‘fine, if you stop whining, I’ll go to the gym with you.’ That holds up in court.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to think about how his hand brushed yours for half a second. Or how good he looked in that black tank, arms practically audible with how jacked they were. This was fine. You were fine.

Just friends.

You’d been telling yourself that for months—ever since you moved into the same building and he offered to show you the gym “because it’s less creepy if we go together.” What started as two friends trying to not embarrass themselves doing squats turned into protein shake mornings, late-night core challenges, and Changbin texting you every time you missed a workout like some kind of jacked golden retriever with abandonment issues.

But somewhere between shared sweat towels and spotting each other mid-bench press, you started noticing things.

Like the way his eyes always found you in the mirror.

Or how he always picked the machines closest to you.

Or how he never looked at anyone else the way he looked at you when you hit a PR.

And maybe you were imagining it, but lately… things felt different. He stood a little closer. Let his fingers linger on your lower back when correcting your form. Gave you this look when you stretched after workouts—like he was trying really hard not to say something.

You weren’t imagining that. Not today.

Because today, someone else was looking at you.

Changbin noticed him first. Some guy from the other side of the gym, shirtless under an open hoodie (the audacity), clearly checking you out mid-set. You hadn’t noticed—you were too busy wiping sweat off your face—but Changbin? He was laser-focused.

He didn’t say anything, but the shift was instant. His jaw tightened. His form correcting got a little more hands-on. His “good job”s came with firm pats to your hip or shoulder. And when you tried to laugh it off, he didn’t.

It all came to a head in the locker room.

You were sipping your shake, scrolling on your phone, still riding the high of the workout when the door opened and slammed shut behind you.

You turned around, startled, only to be pinned gently but firmly against the lockers by a very serious, very flushed, very not smiling Changbin.

“Bin—what the hell?”

His hands were on either side of your head, eyes locked on yours, chest heaving slightly—not from exertion, but something heavier. Hotter.

“You didn’t see him,” he said, low and sharp. “The way he was looking at you.”

You blinked. “Who—?”

“The guy by the bench rack. He was practically eye-fucking you right in front of me.”

You froze, your stomach flipping. “Okay… and?”

“And I didn’t like it,” he growled.

He moved closer, just enough that you could feel the heat of his skin, the sharp scent of citrus and sweat and something distinctly him. His voice dropped to a near whisper.

“I’ve been trying so hard to be chill. To be your gym bro. Your friend.” He laughed, almost bitter. “But then someone else looks at you, and suddenly I’m one second away from throwing hands just because they don’t get to touch you.”

You stared at him, breath caught somewhere in your throat. “...Who does?”

He swallowed, gaze flicking from your lips to your eyes.

“I do,” he said simply. “Or I want to. If you let me.”

It was too much. Too sudden. Too perfect.

So you did the only thing that made sense—you pulled him in by the collar of his tank top and kissed him like he was oxygen after a drowning.

He kissed you back like he’d been waiting all damn year.

When you finally broke apart, gasping, foreheads pressed together, he chuckled—soft and breathless.

“Guess I’m not just your gym bro anymore, huh?”

You smiled, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Guess not.”

He leaned in again, this time slower, more sure of himself.

And as his lips met yours, you thought—maybe working out wasn’t so bad after all.

You hadn’t even fully caught your breath when Changbin pulled away from the kiss, his gaze dark and unreadable, lips swollen from you.

He didn't say anything. Just looked at you for a long, heated second—then bent slightly, strong arms sliding under your thighs before you could so much as squeak.

“Binnie—what are you doing?!”

“Carrying what’s mine,” he muttered, voice low and wrecked, like the words cost him control. “You said yes. No way I’m letting you out of my sight now.”

You looped your arms around his neck instinctively, barely able to process the ease with which he lifted you like you weighed nothing. His biceps flexed under your hands, skin hot and slick, and you swore your brain just short-circuited from how much man he was.

The locker room door clicked shut behind you. But he didn’t stop. You didn’t even ask where he was going. You already knew.

The sauna.

That quiet little room tucked away at the back of the gym, warm even when empty, usually ignored at this hour.

Perfect.

The second the door closed behind you both, he let you down—slow, careful, like he was scared you’d vanish if he moved too fast. The heat wrapped around you instantly, thick and humid and heady. But it had nothing on the way Changbin looked at you now.

Not teasing. Not playful.

Devoted.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he said softly, tracing your jaw with the back of his fingers. “Do you know how hard it was? Watching you stretch in those damn leggings, laughing at my protein shakes, calling me ‘bro’ when all I wanted to do was pin you down and prove I’m not just your friend?”

Your breath hitched. “Why didn’t you?”

He smiled, slow and hungry. “Because you deserved better than a heat-of-the-moment hookup in a locker room.”

You swallowed. “And now?”

He leaned in, lips brushing yours. “Now you know how I feel. Now it’s your choice.”

The air crackled between you. Your fingers curled in the hem of his shirt. “I want you, Bin. I want this. I want you.”

The second the words were out, he kissed you again—but this time it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate.

It was intentional.

He tasted like salted skin and mango pre-workout. His mouth moved over yours with a gentle hunger, hands cupping your jaw like you were breakable and holy all at once.

And when he laid you down on the wooden bench, one hand under your neck, the other sliding along your waist—he made sure you felt everything.

The slow drag of his body against yours. The soft, reverent kisses down your collarbone. The way he murmured your name like a prayer against your skin. He touched you like he knew every inch already, like he’d spent months memorizing how you moved, how you sighed, how you fell apart.

And the whole time, he kept whispering:

“Tell me if it’s too much.”

“You’re doing so good.”

“I’ve got you. I always got you.”

And it was slow—so achingly slow—but somehow even more intense than anything fast and frantic could’ve been.

Because he wasn’t just claiming you.

He was cherishing you.

When you finally came undone under his touch, trembling and gasping, he held you through it, forehead pressed to yours, breathing just as ragged.

Afterward, as you lay curled against his chest, sauna heat mixing with the afterglow, he ran his fingers lazily down your spine and whispered, “Guess this makes me your post-workout recovery, huh?”

You snorted against his shoulder. “You’re so annoying.”

But you didn’t stop smiling.

Not even when he kissed the top of your head and whispered, “And you’re mine now. Finally.”

[royalinkblot]

Goose on the Loose: Mission Makeout (An unauthorized romantic military operation—and possibly a war crime) 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

(This is part of my pride month series)

Nick "Goose" Bradshaw had faced down MiGs, diaper duty, survived Mach 2 flat spins, and once ate gas station sushi on a dare. But nothing, nothing, had prepared him for this. For them.

He slammed his locker shut with the force of a thousand repressed sighs. "That’s it. I’m done. I can’t anymore."

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, his best friend, his brother in all but blood, his tragically dense pilot, had once again spent ten minutes in the locker room having what could only be described as a foreplay argument with Tom "Iceman" Kazansky.

It had begun with “You’re dangerous,” had dipped briefly into “you’ve got no discipline,” and ended in a slow-motion towel snap that could get someone pregnant.

Goose was losing it.

🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿

At home, Goose paced the living room, baby Bradley gurgling happily in Carole’s arms. She hummed as she rocked the baby, her gaze warm and patient.

“I’m telling you, babe—it’s not just me! They stare! They compliment insult each other! They even checked out each other's asses in formation!”

Carole—his radiant, patient goddess of a wife—handed him a mug of coffee and waited for the rant she knew was incoming.

“It’s like Top Gun: Pride and Prejudice out there, Carole,” he said, throwing himself into a chair. “They eye each other like it’s a duel. A slow burn duel. I saw Ice check out Mav’s ass today. Twice. Once during warm-ups, and again when Mav dropped his pen. It’s like they’re flirting through gritted teeth.”

Carole blinked. “You sure they’re not just rivals?”

Goose leaned in, whispering urgently: “They almost kissed in the locker room. Like, noses-brushed kind of kiss. That’s not a rivalry. That’s a crisis of repressed sexual longing!”

Carole, ever the battlefield nurse to Goose’s emotional triage, just nodded. “Honey, are you saying you want Maverick and Iceman to… kiss it out?”

“I want them to stop staring! Or start doing something! For the love of Kenny Loggins!”

Carole chuckled. “Sounds like you need a team.”

That was the night Goose snapped. Maverick and Iceman were clearly locked in a Cold War of Lust, and by God, he was going to end it.

🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿

And Carole was right, Goose couldn't do it alone. He needed a team.

He knew just the guys for the job. Oh yeah. It was on.

Operation: Mission Makeout

Initiated at 0800 hours.

The first recruits were easy.

Slider, Iceman’s long-suffering RIO, sighed and said, “Finally.”

Hollywood and Wolfman high-fived.

Sundown muttered, “I knew those locker room vibes weren’t just sweat.”

And Chipper? He just whispered, “Bless you, Goose,” like a man finally freed.

They commandeered a conference room no one ever used and built a war board.

Photos. Incidents. A string connecting Maverick’s locker to Iceman’s bunk with a red thumbtack labeled “THE TENSION ZONE.”

A corkboard was wheeled in. Lines of red yarn were pinned between shirtless volleyball photos and the word “TENSION” written in all caps.

“I’ve seen it too,” said Hollywood grimly. “That time in the hangar, they locked eyes over a wrench. I think I heard music.”

“Slider and I saw them lean in too close. It was like watching a telenovela,” added Wolfman, clutching a margarita and distant trauma.

Chipper held up a diagram labeled IceMav Situation Escalation. “They keep almost kissing during flight checks. The danger is increasing.”

Goose slapped the board. “Then it’s time. Operation: Makeout is a go.”

Plan A: Get them alone together.

Result: They talked. About maneuvers. While slowly unzipping flight suits.

Plan B: Accidental karaoke duet of “Take My Breath Away.”

Result: They made eye contact. Then fled in opposite directions.

Plan C: Lock them in a supply closet.

Result: They played hangman on a clipboard and emerged looking even more sexually frustrated.

The squad was losing hope. Nothing worked.

The tension only grew.

At one point, Slider swore the air between them was physically vibrating.

“We’re gonna die of secondhand horniness,” Hollywood groaned, downing a shot of something neon green.

Goose look at his friends, all tired and mentally drained. “Let's go get drunk”

Everyone cheer.

🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿

That’s when Carole intervened.

She found them at the O-Club, mid-spiral, nursing cocktails and heartbreak. Carole sipped her cocktail like a war general watching fools fumble the mission.

“You need to stop pushing them together,” she said. “You need to make them jealous.”

Goose blinked. “Jealous?”

“Yeah. Get under their skin. Make them act. Don’t be Cupid. Be the other guy.”

It was wildly unstrategic.

It wasn’t even on their corkboard.

But desperation is the mother of absurd.

Goose’s eyes narrowed. “You brilliant, beautiful genius.”

🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿

The next week, Sundown pretended to flirt with Maverick. Maverick’s eyes darted to Iceman, who was suddenly training alone shirtless for no reason.

Slider “accidentally” kissed Iceman’s cheek in front of Maverick. Maverick didn’t blink for thirty-two full seconds.

Goose faked an injury so Carole could get close to Iceman and thank him for “being such a good friend to Nicky.” Maverick short-circuited.

Goose had seen the signs all week: Maverick flexed his fists whenever Slider got any closer than necessary to Iceman, clenched his jaw whenever Wolfman laughed flirtatiously at something Tom said (Goose was worried about Maverick's molars).

Oh yeah. Carole was right. It was only a matter of time before something happened. Anything. Goose would be happy with something as basic as not having to watch Tom check Maverick's ass at least five times a day.

Then… it happened.

🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿

On an ordinary day, as Goose, Slider, Hollywood and Wolfman were returning to the locker room after a hop, they heard it:

There was a scream—possibly Chipper—and then silence.

Everyone ran, worried that something serious had happened, what they found was Sundown crouching down, holding his head in his hands, muttering something about pale assess and emotionally stupid pilots.

Chipper was leaning against the wall, pale and barely holding on, saying, over and over again, "I just wanted to grab my towel. Just the towel. How was I supposed to know Maverick was going to explode and get all territorial over Iceman? Oh man, I'm never going to be able to use that towel again.”

Then the sound of a locker slamming open, bodies colliding, and finally, finally—

Kissing.

Passionate, triumphant, emotionally overdue kissing.

They emerged looking starstruck, glistening, and joined at the hip like a slightly homoerotic centaur.

Maverick was grinning like a cat who got the milk, his hair completely disheveled, his lips swollen, his neck looking like it had been attacked by a vampire, covered in love bites.

(Iceman was a biter. Good to know)

Iceman, for his part, looked absolutely smug, his lips red, his eyes bright, his clothes disheveled, a very subtle semi, and an aura of complete peace.

He was the embodiment of a man in love.

Everyone stood frozen, staring at Maverick and Iceman like ghosts, and then...

Screams, hugs, backslapping, and high fives. They did it, the mission was a success.

Slider lifted Goose onto his shoulders, Hollywood kissed Wolfman passionately, Sundown cried with joy, and Chipper told Maverick and Iceman they had to buy him new towels. Expensive ones. He deserved it.

Peace, they thought, had returned.

They were wrong.

Now Maverick sat on Iceman’s lap during briefings. Iceman casually bit Maverick’s neck during fuel checks. They made out in storage closets and hung signs reading Occupied – Danger Zone.

“HE CALLED HIM HIS ‘BELOVED MENACE’,” Wolfman whispered, eyes haunted.

Goose downed his whiskey. “We won the war, but at what cost?”

🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿

Years later, life was good, and the Flyboys were immune to IceMav's displays of love (and the occasional moment where someone would walk into a room to find Iceman bending Maverick in half and doing things to his ass). A lot of therapy was involved, but they were happy.

The Class of ’86, all admirals now, gathered at IceMav’s beachside house. They’d survived war, love, therapy, and at least three closet incidents involving caution tape.

That's when they saw it, almost in slow motion…

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw chatted casually with Jake “Hangman” Seresin across the grill. The air crackled. Meat sizzled with tension.

Hollywood dropped his beer. “Oh God. It’s happening again.”

Goose nodded solemnly. “It’s hereditary.”

Carole leaned back in her chair, sunglasses on, and smiled like a prophetess watching fate unfold.

Slider handed out tequila shots and a pamphlet titled "So Your Friend Is Being Emotionally Held Hostage By Sexual Tension: A Survival Guide".

They tried to warn Dagger Squad.

They tried.

But love… love always flies at Mach 10.5.

(Somewhere, in the distance, Great balls of fire plays on loop).

[jxstsxgx]

𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙰𝚈 𝙷𝙰𝚃𝙴, 𝙸 𝚂𝙰𝚈 𝙲𝙷𝙴𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝚁𝚈 | 𝙴𝙳𝙳𝙸𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader

Word Count: 1,040 words

Summary: After your intense confrontation with Eddie Munson over Chrissy’s questionable choices, you start noticing him everywhere. (This is part 2 of this fic. Go check it out.♡)

Contains: Comedy, Fluff, Slow Burn Potential, Enemies to Lovers Vibes, Goofy Shenanigans

A/N: Special mention for @sheneedsrocknroll92 , I didn't really think about making another part but when I saw your comment I was like suuureee because it's a bit slow burn potential and I am so invested in banters with Eddie, we need some more!

I kinda rushed this so, hope y'all like it. ♡ | masterlist

You weren’t planning on seeing Eddie Munson again. Not after your confrontation.

After you stormed off from his van, completely done with his dramatics and smugness, you had fully expected him to stay in his lane, aka the back row of senior math and the Hellfire table in the cafeteria.

But of course, that wasn’t how Eddie Munson worked.

It started with the hallway.

You were on your way to third period, clutching your history notes and trying to ignore the sophomore whose hairspray cloud had nearly blinded you by the lockers. Everything was going fine, until you heard a gasp. Loud. Theatrical.

"Oh no," someone said behind you, like they’d just seen a ghost. "There she is."

You turned, slowly.

There stood Eddie Munson. One hand to his chest like he was catching his breath, the other pointing dramatically at you like you’d just descended from a cloud.

You blinked. "...What?"

"I didn’t know angels walked among the cursed halls of Hawkins High," he said, feigning shock. "Do they let you keep the halo during gym or do you have to check it at the door with your pompoms?"

You stared at him, unimpressed. "Are you seriously doing this right now?"

"What? I’m just saying," he said with a shrug, "for someone who thinks I’m the worst thing to ever happen to Hawkins, you sure look radiant for a nemesis."

You turned on your heel and walked away. Fast.

Behind you, he called, "Try your best to ignore me! But I’m very loud!"

You didn’t look back.

You were in the middle of choosing between a soggy cafeteria cookie or a bruised banana when you heard it.

The unmistakable, theatrical voice of one Edward Munson echoing from across the lunch line.

“Ah, the fates bless me yet again!”

You didn’t even have to turn around.

“I was but a humble peasant searching for sustenance,” he continued, “and lo and ehold, what do I find before me but the radiant visage of Hawkins High’s most valiant crusader!”

You sighed, shoulders slumping. You’d only wanted a snack. Maybe ten minutes of peace before fourth period. But no. Of course not.

“Please tell me you’re not talking to me,” you said flatly, not looking at him as you reached for a milk carton.

“Who else would inspire such poetry?” Eddie replied, dramatically sliding onto the bench beside you at the cafeteria table, despite you clearly being mid exit. He plopped his own tray down.

You blinked slowly. “Are you always this insufferable, or is this just a special show for me?”

“Oh, it’s always this bad,” Gareth called from a nearby table, where his Hellfire buddies were, biting into a grilled cheese. “But it’s worse around girls who don’t like him back.”

“Traitor!” Eddie shouted over his shoulder before turning back to you with a grin. “Ignore the peanut gallery. They don’t understand chemistry when they see it.”

You gathered your tray, thoroughly unimpressed. “We have no chemistry. We have… fumes. From whatever you’re on.”

And with that, you stood and walked off.

Eddie, undeterred, slumped dramatically across the cafeteria table, clutching his chest.

“Wounded! By her words again!” he declared to no one. “And yet… she walks away like a goddess of war, leaving devastation in her wake.”

From across the room, Gareth threw a crumpled napkin at him. “Dude, chill.”

But Eddie didn’t. Couldn’t.

Because when it came to you? He was already a goner.

The next day, in the cafeteria, again, you pretended not to notice when he walked by your table and dramatically fake swooned into the nearest chair. You also pretended not to hear Gareth ask him why he was so weird lately and Eddie say, "It’s complicated."

Chrissy gave you a look. You ignored it.

You told yourself he was just messing with you. You were the girl who told him off. A novelty. Something to keep him entertained in the endless loop of high school.

He wasn’t interested. Obviously.

He was annoying. Chaotic. Loud.

You kept telling yourself that.

Even when you caught him glancing at you from across the room.

Even when your stomach fluttered like a traitor.

Even when he mouthed, "Buzzkill," and winked.

You rolled your eyes.

Hard.

But your cheeks warmed anyway.

You’d already built the walls.

You knew who you were: Chrissy’s friend. Responsible. Collected. You wore pink lip gloss and knew your angles. You had plans.

And Eddie Munson?

He was a chaotic, guitar-slinging, snack-vending, poetry-reciting whirlwind in a denim vest and a Hellfire tee.

The wrong kind of trouble.

So why did you keep finding yourself looking for him?

Why did your days feel different when you didn’t see him?

Why did he always look at you like he was three seconds away from quoting Romeo and Juliet with a mouth full of gummy worms?

He was ridiculous.

He was relentless.

And worse?

He wasn’t going anywhere.

You caught him again by the bleachers when you were early for cheer practice, on a rainy Thursday. He was sitting on the bottom step, sketching something in a notebook.

He looked up as you passed.

"Hey, Prissy Princess. Want to see something cursed?"

"No."

"Too bad," he said, and held up the notebook.

It was a pencil sketch of a unicorn. Except it had fangs. And was breathing fire. And was wearing a tiara.

You stared, face scrunched. "What… is that?"

"Our future," he said gravely. "Majestic. Chaotic. Slightly violent. But fabulous."

You didn’t laugh.

You absolutely did not laugh.

You might have smirked. Barely.

"You’re insane," you muttered.

"You keep saying that," he said, tucking the notebook away. "Yet here we are. Meeting again. Almost like fate."

"Or a nightmare."

He grinned then started to walk away.

And like always, he waited until he was just far enough to pretend you couldn’t hear him before shouting,

"SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS, LADY JUDGMENT!"

You didn’t look back , but your smile lingered all the way for the rest of the day.

[honeydippedfiction]

Giddy Up Cowgirl {jh86}

Navigation

WC: 11k

Warnings: 18+ | semi public sex | fingering | light choking | light!dom Jack | finger sucking | oral (m receiving) | dirty talk | cream pie (wrap it up people!) | sexual tension |

Taglist

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

It was a crisp late evening in Nashville, the city still buzzing from the excitement of the game earlier that night. The Devils had just wrapped up a dominant victory, their first win on this road trip, and the team was in high spirits. The locker room hummed with laughter and chatter, the sound of lockers slamming shut and equipment bags being zipped up filling the air. Players clapped each other on the back, their smiles wide as they basked in the thrill of victory.

As the players trickled out of the locker room, some headed straight for the team bus, eager to return to the hotel for some much-needed rest. Others, like Jack Hughes, were a bit more eager to prolong the high of the win. He stretched his arms above his head and turned to his teammates with a mischievous grin.

"Who’s up for a little fun?" Jack asked, his voice loud enough to catch the attention of a few of the guys who were lingering near the exit.

"Fun?" Dougie Hamilton raised an eyebrow, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. "We just won a game, Jack. What’s left to do except get some sleep?"

Jack’s grin only widened, his eyes glinting with excitement. "Nah, I’m thinking something a little more... Nashville."

The word hung in the air like a challenge, and a few of the players exchanged curious looks. Everyone knew Nashville had a reputation for its lively nightlife, its honky-tonk bars, and its wild, free-spirited vibe. But there was one place in particular that had captured the attention of the team during their short time in the city: the PBR Bar, known for its country music, cold beers, and—most famously—its mechanical bull.

A couple of players—Jesper Bratt and Miles Wood—snapped their heads toward Jack, both grinning. 

“I’m in,” Miles said quickly, tossing his bag into the corner and pulling his hoodie over his head.

Jesper nodded enthusiastically, his blonde hair still a bit tousled from the game. “It’s been forever since I’ve ridden a bull. Let’s go make some memories.”

With the decision made, the team’s energy shifted from the adrenaline of the game to the anticipation of a night out. As the players made their way to the hotel’s parking lot, the night was alive with the sounds of city traffic and the distant hum of music drifting out from the many bars that lined the streets. The air was cold, but the excitement in the players’ hearts kept them warm.

They piled into a few cars, with Jack at the wheel of one, his eyes glancing back toward his teammates with a grin. "Trust me, this place is legendary," he said, the headlights illuminating his face as he made a sharp turn.

“What’s so legendary about it, huh?” Dougie called from the backseat, clearly skeptical. “Is it the bull or the beer?”

“Both,” Luke answered, a confident laugh escaping his lips. “The place is known for its... competitive bull-riding scene. You get on, you try to stay on as long as you can. You don’t want to be the guy who gets thrown off in front of the whole bar. It’s practically a rite of passage.”

Miles chuckled. “Perfect. I love a good challenge.”

As the car cruised through downtown, the team’s mood shifted to something more playful and carefree. For these young men, the game was in the past, and the present was all about having fun. They were a close-knit group, a family on and off the ice, and nights like these—full of laughter and lighthearted competition—were what they lived for.

When they finally arrived at the PBR Bar, the lights outside blinked brightly, and the sound of live music mixed with the cheers of people inside. The smell of smoky barbeque and fried food wafted through the air as the team piled out of the cars and headed for the entrance.

"Welcome to Nashville," Jack said, throwing open the door and leading the way inside.

The atmosphere was electric. Music blared from speakers, and the scent of food and drinks filled the air. At the center of the room was the mechanical bull, its bright red body gleaming under the lights, waiting for the brave souls who dared to ride. The sight of it sparked an immediate sense of excitement in the group.

"Alright, let’s see who’s the real cowboy here," Jesper said, eyeing the bull as he slapped Jack on the back.

"You sure about that?" Luke grinned. "I’ve got some moves on that bull. Might take you down."

A round of laughter erupted as the team gathered around, ready to enjoy the night. For a moment, it felt as though everything outside of the rink had faded away. No pressures, no expectations—just a group of guys unwinding, excited to let loose after a big win.

It was the perfect way to celebrate.

The moment the Devils walked through the doors of the PBR Bar, the shift from the cool Nashville evening air to the electric energy inside was palpable. The lights hit them first—neon blues and reds casting vibrant hues across the room, reflecting off the polished wood and the metallic fixtures. The air was thick with excitement, the unmistakable sounds of laughter, chatter, and music filling every corner of the expansive bar.

The team moved through the crowd, their eyes scanning the space. In the center of it all, under a massive sign that read "PBR" in glowing red letters, was the mechanical bull. It was perched on a raised platform, its sleek, red-painted frame illuminated by spotlights. The crowd gathered around it, watching as some brave souls tried—and failed—to stay atop its bucking surface. Cheers erupted each time someone was thrown off, adding to the electric atmosphere.

The space itself was an interesting mix of the rustic and the contemporary. Wood-paneled walls, cowhide accents, and vintage Western décor created the atmosphere of an old-time saloon, but the music gave it a modern twist. Top 40 hits bounced off the walls, punctuated by classic rock and a bit of country here and there, creating an unexpected but exhilarating blend. The energy was high, the music a perfect backdrop for the revelers’ animated conversations and shouts of encouragement.

Their eyes immediately landed on the action. A group of girls were dancing on the bar, their movements fluid and synchronized with the rhythm of the music. They wore red cross-tied crop tops paired with matching red bottom shorts and stirrups that gave off a playful, daring vibe. The girls moved with confidence, their smiles wide, creating a captivating spectacle as they effortlessly slid across the polished surface of the bar.

It was hard not to notice them—especially for Jack. He couldn’t help but be drawn to the energy in the room, but one dancer in particular caught his attention. She was a Black woman, her beautiful sepia-toned skin glowing under the neon lights. There was something magnetic about the way she moved—an effortless blend of confidence, grace, and fun that drew Jack in almost immediately. Her every move seemed to flow with the beat, her body moving in perfect sync to the rhythm, like she had been born to dance. The way she held herself, so completely at ease in the spotlight, made her stand out from the others, and Jack found himself momentarily entranced by her.

Her smile was wide and infectious as she laughed with the other dancers, her energy lighting up the room. Jack noticed the way she moved with a playful intensity, her body expressing the music like it was a language she had mastered. Her confidence was undeniable, but it wasn’t cocky—it was something else, something that made her stand out in a way that was captivating, yet not overbearing.

He could feel the pull of her presence, something about the way she carried herself drawing him in, though he quickly tried to shake off the thought. He had just walked into the bar, and this was supposed to be a night for the team to let loose. But there was no denying the intrigue he felt as he watched her—a curiosity that he couldn’t quite push away.

Jack’s teammates had started to disperse, heading for the bar and scanning the crowd for a place to settle in. But Jack remained rooted to the spot, his gaze lingering on the dancer for just a moment longer than he had intended. He wasn’t sure why she had caught his eye, but there was no denying that something about her was magnetic.

Miles Wood, ever the instigator, caught Jack's distracted look. "Dude, what are you looking at?" he teased, nudging Jack in the side.

Jack blinked and quickly shook his head, trying to snap out of it. "Nothing, just… checking out the scene," he replied, giving his friend a half-hearted shrug. He was grateful for the distraction, but a part of him couldn’t help but steal another glance at the girl, her laughter filling the space around him, as if calling him in.

"Yeah, the scene’s got a lot going on," Dougie said, smirking as he grabbed Jack’s arm and pulled him toward the bar. "But I’m pretty sure you’ve seen enough. Time for some drinks."

Jack allowed himself to be pulled along by his teammate, but his attention wavered once more as the girl on the bar flashed a smile in his direction. It was playful, but there was something behind it that made Jack’s heart beat a little faster. 

He couldn’t quite place it, but for some reason, he was fascinated. It was like she had a secret, a sense of mystery that pulled him in, though he couldn't even begin to figure out why. 

As the team found their spot at the bar, Jack’s mind was still a little distracted, the sound of the girl’s laugh and the sway of her movements lingering in his thoughts. There was something about her that felt like a challenge—like a puzzle that needed to be solved. And Jack Hughes was never one to back down from a challenge.

The music pulsed through the room like the heartbeat of the night, each beat sending ripples of energy across the crowd. The PBR Bar was alive, a whirlwind of laughter, clinking glasses, and people lost in the rhythm of the music. Among the crowd, the dancers on the bar had become the center of attention, their synchronized movements adding to the chaos of color and sound. But one dancer stood out from the rest, her presence undeniable.

She was the one who caught Jack’s eye the moment he walked in. She was the girl who made the chaotic energy of the bar seem like a carefully orchestrated show, her body moving with effortless grace, each movement filled with confidence and rhythm. Jack couldn’t look away, captivated by the way she owned the space around her, as if the world was hers to command.

Her skin, a radiant sepia-toned glow under the neon lights, seemed to draw all the light in the room toward her. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back, moving with her body as she spun, twirled, and leaned into the music. There was a boldness in her movements, a confidence that made her seem untouchable yet completely approachable all at once. She didn’t just dance—she became the music, weaving in and out of the crowd with the kind of effortless charm that made her seem like she belonged to the very air she breathed.

Jack’s gaze lingered a little longer than he’d intended, but he couldn’t help it. There was something magnetic about her, something that made it impossible for him to look away. His heart skipped a beat as she moved—fluidly, playfully, with a grace that felt almost too natural for the setting. She smiled, flashing her teeth as she playfully interacted with the crowd, and Jack found himself frozen for just a moment, caught in the orbit of her energy.

That’s when their eyes met.

Her gaze was sharp and knowing, and in the instant their eyes locked, Jack felt a small jolt, like an electric charge passing through him. The corners of her lips lifted into a smile—playful, confident, like she knew exactly what she was doing. She wasn’t shy, wasn’t pretending to be anything she wasn’t. She was completely comfortable in her own skin, and there was a certain confidence in that which drew Jack even further into her orbit.

As she continued her routine, Jack couldn’t help but be aware of the others around him, but she remained the focal point of his attention. She danced effortlessly, working the bar like it was a second home, smiling at people, laughing, engaging them without ever missing a beat. She moved like she was born to do this, her energy contagious and impossible to ignore. Every time she spun or tossed her hair back, Jack’s gaze followed her, unable to look away.

When she finally finished her routine, she gracefully stepped down from the bar, the crowd giving her a round of applause as she smoothly walked off the platform. Her confidence didn’t falter for a second as she navigated through the crowd, heading straight toward the bar where the Devils were now settled, drinks in hand, talking amongst themselves. Jack watched as she made her way toward them, a smile still playing on her lips.

She approached the group, her eyes scanning the crowd before landing on Luke Hughes, Jack’s younger brother, who had his own mischievous smile plastered across his face. He had been watching her just as intently as Jack had, and now that she was near, he didn’t waste any time.

"Hey," Luke said with a grin, leaning across the bar toward her. "You were amazing up there. Think you could teach me some of those moves?"

The girl—Y/N, Jack finally caught her name from the bartender—laughed, the sound like music itself. There was no hesitation in her response, just a playful, teasing look.

"If you’re really that interested," she said, her voice light and flirtatious, "I’d say you should join me on the dance floor. But fair warning—you’re gonna have to work for it."

Luke’s grin widened. “I’m up for the challenge.”

Jack, overhearing the exchange, felt a small laugh bubble up in his throat, though he quickly tried to suppress it. He was still processing the whirlwind of his thoughts, his attention split between his brother’s banter and the undeniable pull of Y/N’s energy. There was something about her—something both confident and inviting—that made Jack want to know more. It was hard to ignore the playful chemistry that radiated between them.

Y/N flashed another smile, one that was a little less playful and a bit more knowing. "Alright, then," she said with a wink, before turning toward the dance floor. "Let’s see what you’ve got."

As she walked away, Jack couldn’t help but watch her go. There was a swagger in her step, a confidence in the way she moved that made it clear she was used to being the center of attention. But unlike most people who might be arrogant or self-centered with that kind of energy, there was something about her that felt genuine. She wasn’t playing a part—she was just herself. 

And that was what made her so captivating.

Luke, meanwhile, was already getting up, eagerly following her toward the dance floor. "You coming, Jack?" he called over his shoulder, clearly ready to show off some of his own moves.

Jack hesitated for just a moment before he shook his head, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll catch up later.”

His eyes followed Y/N as she weaved her way through the crowd, and he found himself wondering if this night—this random, chaotic, and spontaneous night in Nashville—was about to lead to something far more interesting than he had ever expected.

The Devils were finally settled in at the bar, each player nursing a cold drink in hand as the evening unfolded around them. The high-energy atmosphere of the PBR Bar continued to buzz with excitement, but now, it was more laid-back—a mix of good conversation and an easy camaraderie that came from having a few wins under their belts and a night off to unwind. The table was full of laughter, some playful teasing, and the sound of ice clinking in glasses.

Y/N, ever the professional, was moving around the bar with the same confidence that had drawn Jack’s attention earlier. She was back with a fresh round of drinks, balancing them effortlessly as she approached their table. Her presence was magnetic, and Jack couldn’t help but watch her as she set the drinks down in front of them. She flashed a smile at the group, her eyes glinting with that same playful spark that had caught Jack off guard earlier.

"Here you go," she said with a smile. "One round for the Devils." Her eyes met Jack’s for a brief moment, and he felt that familiar jolt of attraction. But it was Nico Hischier who broke his reverie, leaning forward with curiosity.

"So, I gotta ask," Nico said, lifting his drink. "What's the deal with the mechanical bull? You guys get a lot of brave souls trying it out?"

Y/N grinned, a mischievous glint lighting up her eyes. "Oh, you know," she said, her voice dripping with playful challenge. "There's always someone trying to show off. But if you're asking about me…" She winked, leaning in just a little. "I’m always happy to give the bull a spin. Might just show you all a thing or two."

Nico chuckled, shaking his head. "I’ll pass. I prefer not to embarrass myself." He raised his drink as if in salute.

Y/N’s lips curled into a playful pout as she straightened up. "Shame," she teased, her tone light but playful. "Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me." With that, she turned to look at the rest of the Devils players. "Anyone else want to try it? Or are we all too shy tonight?"

But before anyone could answer, the DJ’s voice boomed over the mic, interrupting the group’s conversation.

"Alright, alright, folks, we’ve got a real treat tonight!" The DJ’s voice was energetic, grabbing the attention of everyone in the bar. "This girl here is the best bullrider this side of the Mississippi! She’s our very own homegrown girl, and if you’ve never seen her work, well, you’re in for a show. Give it up for Y/N!"

The crowd cheered, and the energy in the room shifted, becoming even more charged as Y/N grinned and gave the crowd a little wave. Without missing a beat, she winked at the Devils as she stepped away from the bar as "Gotta Get Me Some' by Nickelback began playing.

"Excuse me, boys," she said with a playful glance at Jack. "Duty calls." And just like that, she was off, moving toward the mechanical bull at the center of the room.

Jack watched her go, his eyes following every step as she made her way to the bull. The inflatable pit surrounding it was filled with eager patrons, but Y/N was the one everyone had come to see. She made her way to the mechanical bull with a confidence that sent a ripple of anticipation through the crowd. The DJ introduced her one last time, and a cheer went up from the people around her as she climbed onto the bull like she’d done it a thousand times before.

In that moment, everything seemed to slow down for Jack. He could feel the electric energy in the room focus entirely on Y/N, as if the crowd was holding its collective breath, waiting to see what she’d do next.

With a fluid motion, Y/N slipped into position on the bull, her posture perfect, her legs wrapping around the inflatable beast. She flashed a smile to the crowd, her eyes gleaming with excitement. And then, without a second thought, she kicked the bull into motion.

The machine lurched beneath her, but Y/N didn’t falter. Instead, she leaned into the rhythm, moving with the bucking bull as though she had an intimate understanding of its every move. She adjusted her body, anticipating each jolt, her feet planted firmly as she worked the mechanical bull with a fluidity that stunned the room.

Jack couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way she controlled the bull with such grace, the way she shifted her weight effortlessly—it was as if she were born to do this. Her body moved with confidence and precision, her hips swaying with the movement of the bull, and there was an undeniable chemistry between her and the mechanical animal. She looked like she could take on anything, and she was doing it all with that playful grin that had first captivated Jack when he saw her on the bar.

The crowd cheered as she pulled off a series of daring moves—one moment leaning back as the bull twisted beneath her, the next bouncing with the motion in perfect sync. Jack’s jaw was practically on the floor, unable to look away from her.

She spun around once, her body moving in tandem with the machine, then threw a teasing wink toward the crowd. As the bull jerked again, she adjusted her stance, gliding effortlessly with its motions, her hands gripping the ropes, but never losing that carefree energy. She had the whole bar watching her, and she knew it—her confidence was contagious.

Jack was completely star-struck, unable to believe what he was witnessing. She wasn’t just a good rider; she was extraordinary. Every twist and turn, every movement felt intentional, like she was showing off the kind of skill only a true professional could possess. And Jack… well, he was mesmerized. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as she continued to wow the crowd with her daring moves.

His teammates had noticed too, but Jack didn’t care. The only thing he could focus on was Y/N, her laughter and the infectious energy she brought with every movement. She wasn’t just playing to the crowd—she was the heart of it.

When she finally dismounted, landing lightly on her feet in the inflatable pit below, the crowd erupted in applause, and Y/N took a graceful bow, her smile wide and full of satisfaction. She glanced over at the Devils table and gave them a knowing, playful smile before heading back to the bar, where Jack’s gaze remained fixed on her.

As Y/N disappeared back into the crowd, the noise of the PBR Bar returned to full volume, but the Devils were far from distracted. Jack’s attention remained locked on her, his eyes following her every move as she returned to the bar. It didn’t take long before his teammates caught on—after all, Jack wasn’t exactly being subtle.

"Well, well, well," Nico’s voice rang out, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over their table. "Looks like someone’s a little smitten." Nico gave Jack a knowing grin, his eyes flicking between Jack and the bar, where Y/N had just settled behind the counter, exchanging banter with the bartender.

Jack blinked, finally pulling his gaze away from her and trying his best to look casual, though the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. "What? No, I—" he stammered, then tried to recover, "I’m not—what are you even talking about?"

Dougie Hamilton leaned in with a sly smile, his voice low but teasing. "Uh-huh. Right, Jack," he drawled. "You were staring at her like you’d never seen a woman before. Don't even try to play it cool now." He nudged Jack's shoulder with a mischievous grin.

Jack rolled his eyes, trying to mask his embarrassment. “I wasn’t staring. I was just—watching her ride the bull. That was impressive, alright?”

“Oh, we saw it. We all saw it,” Miles Wood chimed in, his grin wide and his voice full of teasing amusement. “You were practically drooling, man. I thought you were gonna jump on that bull yourself.”

Jack groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shut up, guys. She’s just... she’s really good at it. That’s all. You know, like any pro athlete is good at their thing.”

Luke, who had been listening in quietly, suddenly piped up with a devilish grin. “Sure, sure. You weren’t staring at her... just the bull, right? Because you definitely didn’t look like you were about to ask her for a private lesson.”

The rest of the guys burst out laughing, and Jack’s face turned a deeper shade of red. He took a long sip of his drink, hoping the conversation would just die down. But Nico, ever the instigator, wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily.

“C’mon, Jack,” Nico said, leaning in with a grin. “You can’t fool us. You’re looking at her like she just stepped out of your favorite dream. You should go talk to her. She definitely noticed you watching.”

Jack shot Nico a glare, but deep down, he knew they were right. He had been caught. He was staring at Y/N—no denying that. And something about her confidence, her effortless charm—it was hard to ignore. The way she owned the room when she was on that bull had just fascinated him. But talking to her? That felt like a whole other level of nerve he wasn’t sure he was ready to tackle.

“Yeah, you should,” Dougie added, nudging him again. “Go up to the bar, strike up a conversation. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Jack shook his head, half-amused and half-exasperated. "I’m not some rookie, guys," he said with a half-smile, trying to play it cool. "I’m just... enjoying the night."

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, just ‘enjoying the night.’ Sure. So why’s your face all red? I don’t think it’s from the drinks.”

“Yeah, tell us about that,” Miles teased, leaning back in his chair, clearly getting comfortable with the teasing. “You’re usually way better at hiding it when you’ve got a thing for someone. But this time? Buddy, it’s written all over your face.”

Jack groaned, and the guys continued to chuckle at his expense. His teammates didn’t miss a beat, continuing their teasing while Jack pretended to ignore them. But deep down, his mind was racing. They were right. He had noticed Y/N. He had been watching her, and for some reason, the whole thing—her confidence, her energy, her way of moving—had left him utterly captivated.

But of course, the team wasn’t going to let him forget it. They kept it up for a while longer, throwing in playful comments and nudges, until Jack was so red in the face he considered ducking out of the bar entirely. But he didn’t.

After a few minutes, Miles gave him a playful wink. "Alright, Jack," he said. "Go on and get it over with. Take the bull by the horns—or, uh, Y/N by the reins."

Jack looked at Miles, then around the table at all his teammates, each one grinning like they knew exactly what he was thinking. He sighed, half-laughing, half-exasperated.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Fine. You guys win. But if I do this, it’s on my terms. No more teasing, got it?”

The guys cheered, the teasing dying down as they gave Jack an encouraging look, but there was a mischievous glint in their eyes. They weren’t going to let him off the hook that easily.

“Good luck, Jack,” Nico said with a wink. “We’ll be right here to watch it unfold. Don't forget to get a selfie with her!”

Jack rolled his eyes again, but with a smirk, he finally stood up, ready to face whatever conversation might come his way. As he made his way toward the bar, he could feel the eyes of his teammates on him, still teasing but oddly supportive in their own way. But none of that mattered as much as the fact that, for some strange reason, he had the feeling that this night was about to get a lot more interesting than he’d expected.

As Jack made his way toward the bar, his heart beat a little faster than he expected. He could hear the muffled chatter and music of the bar growing louder with each step, but in the back of his mind, all he could focus on was the reason he was heading in that direction in the first place.

Y/N.

When he reached the bar, he was momentarily distracted by the sea of people, all milling around, but there she was, standing behind the counter with a drink in hand, casually chatting with a customer. Her smile lit up the space, and for a second, Jack just stood there, watching her effortlessly move between the crowd, her energy magnetic.

Then, as if she sensed his presence, Y/N glanced over, her eyes locking onto Jack’s with a mischievous glint. She flashed a smile, and in a few steps, she was right there in front of him, leaning against the bar casually as if she’d been waiting for him.

“Well, well,” she said, her voice teasing but soft. “Look who finally decided to show up. You ready to ride the bull, or are you just another tourist passing through?” Her eyes sparkled with playfulness as she gave him a knowing look, her lips curving into a smile that made Jack’s stomach flip.

Jack felt his cheeks heat up at the mention of the bull, and suddenly, the confident, laid-back persona he’d had just moments ago felt miles away. His mind went blank for a second, and he found himself stammering, trying to find the right words.

“Uh, w-what?” He cleared his throat. “I mean… I—I wasn’t planning on riding it, but—uh… I guess it’d be… fun to watch.” He couldn’t help but notice how her gaze held his, her eyes locking onto his as if she was daring him to say something else, something more daring.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. “Oh really?” she teased. “I thought you were the kind of guy who liked a challenge. I mean, you’ve seen me show you all how it’s done, right?” She leaned a little closer, her voice lowering just enough to make him feel like the room was suddenly smaller. “You sure you’re just here for the drinks?”

Jack blinked a few times, his throat dry. The way she spoke—so confident, so direct—was enough to send him spinning. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to talk to women, but something about her presence made his usual easygoing confidence evaporate in an instant.

“Uh… I, uh…” Jack stammered again, completely flustered by the attention she was giving him. “I mean, I’ve seen you ride the bull, and, uh, it’s... pretty impressive. But, uh, not sure if I’m quite ready to, uh, try it out just yet.”

Y/N’s smirk deepened, her eyes dancing with amusement. She was clearly enjoying the effect she was having on him, and Jack was too far gone to even try to hide it. He could feel his palms start to sweat slightly, the alcohol in his system doing nothing to help his nerves.

“Not ready for the bull, huh?” she teased, her voice almost a whisper now, like she was sharing a secret. “Tell me, Jack—are you always this cautious, or is it just when it comes to me?”

The words hit him like a wave, and Jack could barely keep himself from stumbling over his response. “I—uh—no, I mean—I'm not cautious!” he said quickly, his words tripping over each other. “I just... I mean, I just... didn’t want to make a fool of myself, that's all.”

Y/N’s laughter rang out, light and full of teasing, but there was no malice in it—just fun. "Oh, Jack, you're far from making a fool of yourself," she said, her voice playful. "But, hey, if you're too shy, I totally get it. Not everyone’s cut out for the bull. But hey, you might just surprise yourself." 

Jack felt his pulse quicken at the way she looked at him—her gaze softened just a little, and he realized she wasn’t just teasing him. She was flirting, and maybe, just maybe, she wanted him to take the challenge. To prove something. To her.

He didn’t know what came over him, but suddenly, the idea of being cautious felt ridiculous. He’d come this far—he wasn’t going to back down now.

“Alright, alright,” Jack said, his voice now a little steadier than before, though the lingering nerves were still there. “I’ll give it a shot. But only because you made it sound like fun.”

Y/N’s grin widened, clearly pleased with his decision. “That’s what I like to hear,” she said, her voice still low and teasing. “Let’s see if you can keep up with me on that bull, Jack.”

Before he could respond, she gave him a playful wink, and then, without another word, she turned back to the rest of the bar, ready to prep another round of drinks for some eager patrons. Jack, still trying to collect himself, stood there for a moment, his mind racing. Was he really about to ride the mechanical bull? With her watching?

His teammates, watching from their table nearby, couldn’t help but notice the slight color in his cheeks and the distracted look on his face as Y/N walked away. 

“Oh man,” Nico chuckled, nudging Dougie with his elbow. “Looks like Jack’s about to face his biggest challenge of the night.”

Dougie grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Told you, Jack. No backing out now.”

Jack shot them both an exasperated look but couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. He was in it now. There was no turning back.

With a deep breath, he straightened up and made his way toward the inflatable pit, ready to take on the bull—and whatever else the night might bring.

Jack climbed onto the mechanical bull with as much confidence as he could muster, but the truth was, his legs were already starting to feel like jelly beneath him. He tugged at the straps on the bull, positioning himself as best as he could. His hands gripped the handles in front of him with white knuckles, his palms clammy against the synthetic leather. He could feel the vibrations from the bull beneath him, the mechanical beast waiting to spring into action.

He glanced around, trying to act cool, but there was no denying the fact that he was a little nervous. The cheers from the crowd were loud, almost deafening, as they eagerly awaited the ride. The rest of his team was gathered near the sidelines, teasing and shouting playful encouragements, but Jack’s focus was entirely on the bull and, more specifically, on the girl who had just told him he should give it a shot.

As the bull began to move, swaying beneath him in slow, deliberate motions, Jack’s heart rate increased. He hadn’t expected to be quite this nervous. He tried to settle into a rhythm, trying not to grip the handles too tightly, but the bull jerked suddenly, and he almost lost his balance. 

"Whoa—whoa!" Jack muttered under his breath, holding on even tighter, feeling like he was on the verge of being thrown off at any second. He couldn’t help but laugh nervously at his own awkwardness.

Just as he was beginning to doubt his decision, the crowd cheered again, but this time it wasn’t just for him. To his surprise, a familiar face appeared beside him—Y/N. Without missing a beat, she hopped onto the bull behind him, moving with a fluidity that made Jack feel like he was a complete amateur in comparison. 

The crowd erupted into even more applause, but Jack’s focus was completely stolen by the way she effortlessly adjusted herself behind him, settling into position with the kind of confidence Jack could only dream of having. 

Y/N’s body pressed against his back, her presence warm and undeniable, and she flashed him a grin. “Hold on tight,” she teased, her voice warm and playful, almost as if she was giving him a secret, inside tip. “I don’t bite… unless you want me to.”

Jack’s heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to laugh or just lose himself in the absurdity of the situation. He was already nervous about riding the bull, and now Y/N was practically pressed against him, her steady, fluid movements making him feel clumsy by comparison.

“Okay,” Jack muttered, trying to gather himself. “I got this.”

Y/N’s laughter vibrated through him, light and infectious. “You’re holding on like your life depends on it,” she teased, her voice close to his ear. “Relax, Jack. You’re not gonna fall. Trust me, I’ve got you.”

The way she said it—so confidently, with such easy familiarity—brought a wave of relief, though Jack still couldn’t shake his nervousness. He shifted slightly, trying to focus on staying balanced, but the more he tried to focus on the bull, the more aware he became of her proximity. She wasn’t just sitting behind him; she was with him, like they were a team, moving together in sync with the motions of the bull.

As the ride started to pick up speed, the mechanical bull bucked, throwing Jack off rhythm. His grip tightened again, but this time, Y/N leaned in a little closer, her body moving with the flow of the ride in perfect harmony. Her hands rested lightly on his waist, not pressing him into the seat but instead offering an unspoken support.

“Relax,” she whispered again, her breath hot against his ear. “You’re doing fine, but you might want to loosen up a little. I’ll keep you steady.”

Jack tried to focus on her words. He forced himself to relax his grip on the bull’s handle, feeling more at ease with each passing second. His nervous energy slowly started to drain away, replaced by a growing sense of exhilaration. The more he adjusted to the rhythm of the bull, the more he could feel his awkwardness melting away, replaced by a genuine confidence he hadn’t expected. 

The bull swerved to the left, then to the right, and Jack found himself following the motion without thinking. His body was no longer stiff and rigid—it was almost as if he was moving with the bull and with Y/N behind him, sharing the ride in perfect sync. He could feel her fingers brushing against the side of his waist as she shifted her position, her breath matching the movement of the bull. It was a strange kind of chemistry, born not just from the thrill of the ride but from their proximity to one another.

Suddenly, the bull made a sharp turn, and for a moment, Jack thought he was going to lose it. But before he could react, Y/N’s hands slid from his waist to his shoulders, steadying him, keeping him from falling.

“You’ve got this, Jack!” she called over the music, her voice full of encouragement. “Just a little more.”

He felt his heart race—not from fear of falling, but from the intensity of the moment, the fact that they were working together as a team, even if it was just on a mechanical bull. Her presence behind him was more than just physical—it was reassuring, playful, and a little daring all at once. It made him feel like he could actually do this.

With a final hard buck, the bull tossed them both to the side, and Jack, unable to hold on any longer, was thrown off and landed in the inflatable pit with a soft bounce. He lay there for a moment, catching his breath, before finally sitting up, grinning despite himself.

From where he lay, Jack watched Y/N, who had managed to stay on much longer. She didn’t even look winded. In fact, she was moving with such ease, Jack couldn’t help but admire her control. She shifted, adjusting her position on the bull, and the crowd erupted into cheers as she performed a smooth roll off the bull, flipping backward in a move that was so graceful, it almost looked like she was part of a dance.

As she landed in the inflatable pit with a playful flourish, Jack couldn’t help but laugh, clapping along with the rest of the crowd. Y/N grinned widely, breathless from the ride but still full of that infectious energy.

The crowd roared with applause, and Jack couldn’t help but laugh, his nerves now completely gone, replaced by a rush of adrenaline.

He turned slightly to face Y/N, who was grinning from ear to ear. “See?” she said, her voice light and teasing. “Told you you could do it.”

Jack laughed again, shaking his head in disbelief. “Yeah, I guess you were right,” he admitted, still trying to catch his breath. “You really do know how to ride this thing.”

Y/N’s grin softened into something a little more sincere as she slid off the bull and helped Jack down. “I’ve had a little practice,” she said with a wink, her eyes twinkling. “But you did pretty damn good for a first-timer.”

Jack couldn’t stop smiling, his heart still racing from the ride. As he slid off the bull, he realized that for once, he didn’t feel out of place—he was right where he needed to be. And for some strange reason, he had Y/N to thank for that. 

As the applause died down, the energy of the room shifted, but Jack didn’t mind. He was too busy trying to steady his pulse from the ride—and the effect she’d had on him.

Jack laughed, still catching his breath. “Yeah, well, I guess I had a pretty good instructor.” He looked over at her, the smile never leaving his face. "You were amazing. I don’t know how you make it look so easy.”

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes glinting with the same playful mischief. “It’s all about confidence,” she said, her voice low and teasing. “You’ve got to trust the bull and trust yourself. And, well,” she added with a wink, “trust your partner.”

The night was in full swing now. The PBR Bar had transformed into an electric dance party, with the lights flashing in time to the music and the floor packed with people moving to the beat. The Devils’ players were a part of it all, but none more so than Jack, who had managed to find his rhythm after a few drinks and a mechanical bull ride. His teammates—Luke and Nico especially—had captured his entire bull-riding ordeal on their phones, giggling and mocking him as they relived the moment. Jack wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or amused, but one thing was clear: tonight, the team was in the mood to let loose.

As the beat pulsed through the air, the guys found themselves drawn to the dance floor. Some of the PBR girls were already moving, their energy infectious as they led the crowd through a series of fun, teasing moves. The bar was buzzing with excitement, and the atmosphere had an almost magnetic quality to it.

Jack, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time, was talking with his brother Luke and Nico, his usual nerves replaced by a certain boldness. He even found himself tapping along to the rhythm of the song, though he wasn’t quite ready to go all-in like some of the others. His attention was split between the conversation and the lively scene around him, but every so often, his gaze flickered toward the bar, where he noticed a familiar face.

Y/N was back at her post, filling out orders, chatting with patrons, but Jack noticed something—she was scanning the crowd. His heart skipped when he realized she was looking for him. 

Just as he turned back to talk to Nico, the music shifted, and an early 2000s hit blared from the speakers—“Up Down (Do This All Day)” by T-Pain. Jack barely had time to adjust to the change before he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned, surprised to see Y/N standing in front of him, her smile playful and bright, as though she’d been waiting for this moment. 

“Need a dancing partner?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with mischievous energy, her tone inviting but full of that daring confidence Jack had come to admire.

Jack blinked, momentarily speechless, before he recovered, a grin spreading across his face. “Uh, sure. Why not?” He looked around at his brother and Nico, who were both giving him knowing looks. Nico smirked, while Luke whooped in the background, cheering for his older brother like he was rooting for a game-winning goal.

Before Jack could even second-guess himself, Y/N had already extended her hand, her fingers outstretched toward him in the middle of the crowded dance floor.

Without hesitating, Jack reached for her hand, the touch sending a rush of excitement through him. He allowed her to pull him into the sea of bodies, the beats of the song vibrating through the floor as the crowd around them moved with rhythm and energy. The space was packed, and the bodies were close, but in that moment, Jack didn’t mind. 

Y/N led him into the crowd with ease, her confidence setting the pace as she began moving fluidly to the beat, teasing the crowd with her effortless sway. Jack stumbled at first, trying to find his footing, but Y/N’s gaze never wavered from him. She was watching him intently, with a glint in her eyes that made him feel like they were the only two people on the floor.

Relax, Jack," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "Follow my lead."

Jack took a deep breath as he allowed her to move against him. There was no space between them, not anymore. His eyes fell to her lips, watching them move in time with the music. The music pulsed through him, the rhythm heavy and primal. She rocked back and forth, her hips moving seductively against his.

“Mmm,” he said, his voice low and husky. His hands settled on the small of her back as she ground against him, moving her hips in time with the beat. She felt warm under his touch, soft and inviting.

"Let the music do the work," she said, her mouth finding his ear again, her tongue brushing against his skin and sending shivers down his spine.

Jack couldn’t help the low growl that escaped him at the feel of her tongue on him. His grip on her hips tightened and she laughed, her breath warm against him as she turned her head to meet his eyes. Jack held her gaze, mesmerized by the bright glint of mischief that lit up the dark depths.

Y/N pulled back slowly, her hands finding their way back to his shoulders. The song’s chorus hit, loud and pulsing through the packed dance floor. They turned, swaying in time, her body pressed against his. Jack could feel the swell of her breasts against his chest, could feel her hips moving against his. His eyes were locked on hers as she raised her arms above her head and turned, swaying back into him.

“Up down do this all day,” she breathed, turning again with the rhythm. Jack watched the way her hair moved, watched the way her hips rolled seductively, back and forth. His hands found her hips again, moving in time with her as she rolled against him.

She was the only one he saw. The only one he felt. Jack didn’t know what had come over him, but he couldn’t deny it. This girl had lit something in him.

The song shifted, the beat deepening and slowing. Y/N’s hands found their way to his shoulders again, and Jack pulled her closer, their bodies pressed together as they swayed in time. He felt her hand slide up his neck to tangle in his hair, her touch sending shivers down his skin. Her fingers slid along his nape, teasing the sensitive skin there, and he heard her low moan as she turned again and pressed herself against him.

Jack’s mouth found her neck, his lips ghosting over her skin. She tilted her head back and he took the opportunity to drag his lips up her throat and along the smooth line of her jaw. Her breath hitched as he nipped at the soft curve of her ear.

“You’ve got the rhythm now,” she whispered. “All day.” Jack smirked against her neck. He liked this girl. She made him feel good. She made him want.

“Want to find out?” Jack asked, his breath hot against her skin. He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “What else I can do?” Y/N blinked up at him, her eyes dark and full of promise.

Y/N smiles and wraps her arms around Jack's neck, pulling him closer, her hips grinding against his as they sway to the music. Jack moans softly, feeling her warm skin against his, his body responding to her movements.

"Baby, I'm your best bet," she whispers in his ear, her tongue flicking along the curve of his earlobe.

Jack groans tossing his head back knowing how much trouble he is in. Y/N pulls away once the song ends and winks at him before returning towards the bar where it was her turn to be the bar dancer. Her moves hit with each beat of the next song. 

Jack was screwed and he knew it. He adjusted himself in his pants before going to find his brother and teammates. Y/N was trouble. And he was ready to get in. The night was still young, and so was Jack. He was ready to have the night of his life.

The Devils’ boys were the life of the party now. With their confidence boosted after their game, their usual antics returned to full effect. Jack settled in with his brother, Nico, and a few others for a round of shots. The bar had shifted gears and gone into full dance mode, the girls dancing on the bars now, and Jack found himself more than once looking toward the bar for the girl in red.

Y/N came back to their table to serve them all once again, Jack's gaze burning into her. He had to have her one way or another. Nico asks Y/N to stay and join them which she playfully pouts and says that she can't but secretly slides a paper into Jack's hand. Jack looks down and back at her and she winks, he reads it and tells the boys he's going to the dancefloor which they all nod.

Jack ends up walking to the bathroom where he finds Y/N perched on one of the vanities. His blood began to heat seeing her. Her back was arched, her breasts pushed out, her hair spread out in front of her as if waiting for him. His dick grew hard at the sight and he knew this was where the trouble started. He closed the door behind them and locked it knowing they would be here for a minute or two. His gaze never left hers. 

"You're so fucking gorgeous." Jack whispered as he moved towards her, his hands settling on her hips. She smirked and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down into a kiss. Jack moaned at the taste of her, she tasted like heaven. She had her hand on the side of his face as she kissed him, their tongues tangling together as Jack ran his hands up her thighs to settle on her ass, giving it a squeeze before he slid his hands under her ass and pulled her up off the counter.

He walked to the wall and pinned her against it, her legs wrapping around his waist as they kissed. Jack pulled away for a second and looked into her eyes.

"You're incredible," he whispered as he pulled her close. 

Y/N laughs softly, her hands moving to cup his face. "You're not bad yourself." She leans in to kiss him again before pulling away with a smirk. "We shouldn't be doing this here."

"Yeah? What's stopping you?" Jack asks, his lips finding hers again. She moans softly before pulling away again.

Y/N gazes into his blue eyes. She wasn't the type of girl to hook up with a guy she just met at her job but something about Jack made her core burn with want.  She wanted him. He felt like fun, and tonight she was in the mood for fun. Jack's eyes never left hers, his blue burning into her, full of heat.

"Fuck it." She muttered before she grabbed Jack by the collar of his shirt and pulling him to her, their lips crashing together in a kiss. Jack moans, his hips thrusting against her as he kisses her back.

She gasps as his hips hit her core and she pulls away from him, both of them breathing heavy.

"Giddy up cowgirl," Jack said as he ran his hands under her thighs and turned them. He pushed her up against the wall, her back to the glass wall. She nodded with a gasp as his lips met hers. Jack pushed her legs up to wrap around him again.

His hips thrust against her and she whimpered softly. She wanted him already. Jack chuckled against her lips and his hand trailed it's way down her body to her red bottoms and stirrups. Y/N pulled away and began kissing down Jack's jaw to his neck. He struggled to undo the clasps holding the stirrups to her hips. 

"Why do these have to be complicated." He groaned as Y/N giggled at his desperation. She replaces her hands with his and undos the clasps. The stirrups falling to the ground as Jack grabs Y/N's hips and pulls her off the vanity, spins her so her back is to his chest. He grinds into her and his hand finds it's way to her neck wrapping his hands around it slightly squeezing, "You feel what you do to me baby?"  He asks, his mouth finding her ear again. Y/N nods, moaning softly, the wetness between her legs growing. 

"Tell me you want it." Jack growled as he nips her earlobe, his hand on her thigh sliding up under the hem of her short shorts. Y/N gasped softly at the feel of his fingers on her sensitive skin.

Y/N moans and nods vigorously watching herself fall apart on the hockey player’s fingers. "I want to hear you say it." Jack groaned as he pressed his fingers against her, feeling how wet she was for him. He pressed his fingers into her, feeling her tighten around him. Y/N moaned and writhed on his fingers.

"Please, I want it." She moaned softly, his hand tightening on her neck as she writhed and moved against his hand.

Jack pushed his fingers into her harder and faster, hearing her moans in his ear, and that’s when he realized the wall opposite them was mirrored. He could see them. He could see himself playing with her pussy. Jack grins in the reflection, it was hot. He saw her writhing on his fingers, her head tilting back to rest on his shoulder and her breasts heaving with the quick breaths she was taking. Jack felt himself hardening more.

"Look at you," He said, his voice huskier. "Look what we're doing baby." Jack's lips found her ear again, his breath tickling his breath tickling her skin and she shivered. Y/N looked back at the reflection and she gasped softly. Jack's arms wrapped around her stomach and his free hand moved up to cup her breasts. They were heavy in his hand, full and hot as she moaned.

Jack found her nipple with his thumb and forefinger and he pinched it, his fingers moving in and out of her. Y/N gasps as she moans again. Jack smirked to himself. She looked incredible like that, writhing on his hand and fingers as he played her body. 

"Tell me I can take you," Jack muttered into her ear. Y/N gasped as he pinched her nipple again, she nodded as he slid another finger into her pussy.

"Fuck, I'm close." Jack could feel her pussy tightening on his fingers and he smirked into the reflection. He liked the sight of his hand playing with her pussy, he loved the look of her tits in his hands. Y/N whimpered. "Yeah?" he smugly asks, grinning down at her. "That's a good girl." He muttered as he picked up the speed. She gasps and nods again. Jack could see her watching the reflection, her eyes were wide and her cheeks flushed.

"Come for me, Y/N." Jack demands and she moans as his fingers press into her g-spot, she comes apart on his hand, her orgasm hitting her hard and fast. Jack watched the reflection as her pussy clenched around his fingers before he pulled them out and brought them to her mouth. "Clean them like a good girl."  He muttered to her and she nods, her mouth falling open as his wet fingers slide into her mouth. She moaned as she tasted herself. She sucked them clean, licking them with precision, and Jack groaned at the sight. He pulled his fingers from her mouth and turned her to face him, he was about to kiss her when Y/N automatically dropped to her knees undoing the button to Jack's pants and pulling down his zipper. 

She couldn't contain herself. She needed to taste him and have him on her tongue. His pants fell to the floor with a soft thump as Y/N began mouthing at Jack's cock through his boxers. His soft groans fill the bathroom of the club. "Don't tease me babe." he mutters. Y/N hums as she pulls his boxers down and his cock slaps his stomach. Y/N moans, she knew he was big but goddamn. She felt herself grow even wetter just knowing he's going to stretch her out perfectly. He curved slightly to the right. His pink tip turning red and leaking precum. Jack moans and she begins placing open mouthed kisses along the base and licking the vein to the tip. She looked up at Jack to find him staring down at her, his eyes burning with lust. She proceeds to kitten lick his tip. She hums at the salty taste.  

Y/N felt Jack's hands find themselves in her hair. He was holding a fistful of her hair but not pulling yet. She took him into her mouth, sucking him in and swirling her tongue around him as she bobbed on his cock. Jack was breathing harder now. His breathing comes in sharp inhales and exhales. His hand tightens on her hair and she moans softly around his cock as he holds her head still and pumps into her mouth. The sounds of him fucking her mouth filled the bathroom. His hips thrusting in and out of her mouth, his breaths growing harsher. 

"Y/N," he muttered and she moans around him, loving how deep he was going into her mouth and down her throat. He was hitting her gag reflex, but she didn't care. She wanted this. She wanted him. Jack groaned, his hand cupping her chin and tilting her head up so she had to look at him as he fucked her mouth.

"I'm gonna come in your mouth if you don't stop." He muttered, his eyes meeting hers as she sucked him into her mouth. Y/N takes him down her throat once more and holds him there swallowing around him as he lets out a loud moan. He yanks her off and pulls her up before wrapping his hand around her throat and kissing her. The kiss was nasty.

"Only way I'm cumming is in this sweet pussy of yours." Jack muttered between kisses as he turned Y/N making her face the mirror. Her hands finding the granite surface.  

Jack's hand trailing down her back and settling on her ass, he gave it a squeeze and then slapped it hard enough to get her attention. Y/N moans at the slap as Jack trails kisses down her neck to her shoulder. Y/N's back arched slightly as Jack's tongue trails down her spine. "Oh god," She gasps, he kisses the base of her spine and moves down to kiss the top of her ass. She hears Jack spit and the squelch of him stroking himself fills the room before his hand slides up her inner thigh. She moans as she hears him rub the tip of his cock along her pussy lips. Jack growls softly and slowly pushes in making Y/N feel every thick inch. Y/N gasps softly, she was so full. He bottomed out in her with a groan as he settled there.

"You feel so fucking good," Jack muttered, he trails kisses up her spine. Y/N pushes back into him, silently asking to move. Jack obliged, his cock pulling out with a squelch before pushing back in. "Your cock feels so good," She muttered as Jack picked up the pace and he began thrusting into her harder. His hips slapping against her ass and thighs as his balls slapped her pussy with each thrust. 

They were both moaning and Jack's grip on her hips tightened. Y/N reached down and began rubbing her clit, the sensation building again and Jack watched her in the reflection. His blue eyes burning as he watched her. His eyes locked on hers in the reflection as he began thrusting harder into her. Their breathing became more labored.

"God, look how good you look taking my cock." Jack said as he grabbed a handful of Y/N's hair making her look at her reflection. She moaned at what she saw, she was pure filth and she loved it. Her face was flushed, her hair a mess as he fucked her, her legs shaking as she rubbed her clit. Her eyes were wide and blown, her cheeks burning. Jack let go of her hair as her moans picked up. 

Y/N felt like she could feel him her stomach, just rearranging her guts from how deep he was. Jack lifted her leg onto the vanity and Y/N damn near screamed. He was reaching spots in her she didn't know she had, but fuck did she love it. 

He wrapped an arm around her stomach as his other hand cupped her breast and he pinched her clit with his fingers and began rubbing it hard as he continued to fuck into her at a brutal pace. Jack leaned in close to her ear. "You like that baby?" He grunted into her ear before he bit it and Y/N came hard and loud on his cock, her pussy squeezing him in a vice as she came. Jack groaned softly as he kept fucking her until she was done, then he began fucking into her harder, chasing his own orgasm. Jack's hand tightened on her hip, his breaths growing more erratic. Y/N watched him in the mirror as he chased his orgasm.

"Fuck I'm gonna come, I need to come." He growled out. Y/N nodded. "Do it Jack. Fill me up so good." Jack let out a shaky breath, he moaned softly and pushed in one last time bottoming out in her as his cock pulsed and filled her with his cum. Jack gasped softly, leaning forward and pulling her against his chest, they watched the reflection of themselves as Jack fucked in and out of her slowly emptying his cum in her. Finally Jack pulled out and they both watched as his cum dripped down her thigh. Y/N felt full. Jack could swear he could get hard again at the sight. He shook himself out of his trance as he reached over for some paper towels and helped Y/N clean herself up before he did the same himself.  

They both redressed and Y/N tried to fix her appearance despite her curls being a bit frizy from Jack's grip. Her makeup was smudged. After fixing herself up she helped Jack fix his hair and Jack helped her put her stirrups back on.

His hands lingered on her hips as he looked at her. "What is my lipstick still smudged?" Y/N asks. He smiles and shakes his head. "I don't think this can be a one time thing." he said. She lifted an eyebrow, "Oh you get slutted out and now you're addicted?" Y/n teases . Jack growls as he pulls her close and kisses her. "Shut the fuck up before I decide to turn you around and fuck you again." She gasps at the kiss as Jack pulls away, his eyes dark and lustful. They stood there in silence for a moment.

"Well pull it out." Y/N spoke. Jack raised his eyebrows in shock, god she was insatiable. She smirked, "Your phone horndog. Give me your phone." she said. He reaches into his jeans and unlocks it before passing it to her. Y/N puts in her number and takes a selfie then hands it back. "Now whenever you're back in Nashville, call me and we can do this again." she said before pulling him down for another kiss and went to leave the bathroom. Jack stood there looking at her contact, he knew it was a great idea to come out tonight.

[3vergr3en]

Hi again! I also have this idea of hate fucking Nicholas. He’s getting on my nerves these past few episodes and ofc I love him but I kinda have this fantasy of a wild night with nico where yeah you dislike each other but also have unexplainable desire to HAVE each other right then and there.

Of course, only if you like the idea and are comfortable writing it! Thanks love

🥂 Entangled Desires

(⛓) PAIRING . brother’s!bestfriend!idol!nicholas x fem!reader

(💿) CONTENT . contains mature writing, MDNI.

(📞) A/N . ugh anon, your brain is so yummy 😫😫 Ik what you mean babes, he gives me so— nonchalant but cocky type of vibe that although you know he’s the last person you should consider to let inside your pants, you have this burning desire to fuck him bc you know that he’d fuck you good.

Brother’s!best!friend!Nicholas was always deemed a cocky man. You will never understand how he is best friends with your brother. Euijoo is kind, considerate, and humble. Nicholas is the polar opposite of all of those things.

You thought that little egoism of his would burn out by the end of high school, but it had just gotten so much worse as all three of you grew into adults. It's almost tragic that no one else can see past that ‘I’m so nice and caring’ facade. Not even his fans, not his band members, and unfortunately not Euijoo. Your poor brother has been so oblivious to this, which isn't surprising because he always prioritize the good in people that he oversees the bad. But Nicholas being the little asshole he is, always keeps this crack open for you to peer in, getting a real close look to see his intentions. Wanting you make you seem crazy when you try to warn your brother about him.

He loves to push you over your limits. That little obsession of his started when you three were teens. He’d snatch your clean clothes when you went to shower in the locker rooms after the gym. And he’d only give it back if you..

“Beg nicely for them.” He hums behind you, lips narrowly touching your earlobe.

Startled, you let out a small yelp as you quickly whipped your body around, hands clutching the towel that wrapped around your naked figure that hid beneath. But that fear resided into annoyance remarkably quickly when you saw that stupid, smug grin on his face. “Give. Those. Back. Yixiang.” You muttered, irritation clearly audible in your tone.

He shakes his head disappointingly, “I’ll repeat myself again. Beg. Nicely.” Nicholas recites, giving you a brief, not-so-genuine smile. “C’mon, let me hear you.” His voice deepens when he insists, taking a step forward.

But as much as you hate him, your body tends to react otherwise. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel anything whenever he’d talk to you with such assertion. Especially when he would look at you in a certain way that would make your knees buckle. But being the stubborn person you are, you push past your hormones practically screaming at you and be a big girl. “I’m not begging for shit. Especially not for you.”

“Yeah? Well let’s see about that.”

.

And unfortunately, it continues as you guys are now adults. But instead of verbally taunting you, he’s taken a step further with being more.. physical.

You find yourself hanging out with the group during your free time. Whether it was at their practice rooms, their dorm, or out somewhere— you like being around them and its vise versa for them,, besides one person in particular. And he takes it upon himself to make sure that whenever he sees you, he’d try to have you reeling for the rest of the night.

Tonight, you and the guys were out getting dinner. And unfortunately, the man you oh, so despised had deliberately chosen to sit right next to you— so shocking. “Not tonight, Yixiang. Just let me eat in peace.” You speak, swirling the red liquid around in your glass before taking a long sip.

You fail to notice his eyes gazing down at you, at your figure specifically. The way that mini-dress rode up your thighs and how low-cut the top was, your breasts nearly spilling out if he just.. tug the fabric down. He’s practically eye-fucking you without any shame.

He inches his lips towards your ear, getting real close where you can feel his warm breath on your neck. “No funny business, Nicholas.” You warn once more, eyes darting between the others who were engrossed in their own conversations to notice the two of you who sat at the end.

His big, vainy hand found a place on your bare thigh. His cold rings making contact with your warm skin, making you lightly hiss through gritted teeth. “You look like a whore in that dress. Pretty hot I’d say.” His words rung in your ear, thumb caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh.

You go to wrap your hands around his wrist, contemplating if you should stop him.. or move his hand closer to there. “Wow, so kind coming from a guy like you.” You murmured, side-eyeing him with an unamused expression written all over your face.

“Hm, you say that.. but I can practically feel how hot you are.” He whispers, taking your earlobe in between his teeth to bite on. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough that it makes you squeeze your thighs together— trapping his hand in between your legs.

“Just admit it. You want me.” He adds on, prying your legs apart. “Tell me how badly you want my fingers inside of you.” His voice velvety smooth, just like his fingers as they trace up your thigh till it reaches your underwear.

“I don’t want you touching anywhere on me.” You breathe out, chest heaving as you feel yourself growing hotter.

“Is that so? So you would stop me if I did.. something like this?” He asked, his index and middle finger rubbing your clit through the cotton fabric.

You take in a sharp breath, eyelids threatening to close as you let yourself indulge in the feeling a little bit. “What would the others say if they saw you like this? What would your brother say, hm?” His voice taunts you, but its turning you on even more. And he can feel that as your wetness seeped through your underwear.

Your eyelids shoots open as reality hits you. You’re out at dinner right now. In front of people. In front of your brother who sat oblivious next to you.

He quickens the pace on his fingers, “N-Not here, Yixiang.” You reply, biting down your bottom lip to suppress a moan.

And just like that, he stops.

You gawk at him, eyes hooded with need that couldn’t compare to how his was. Nicholas stared at you with lips slightly parted, deep breaths and eyes filled with lust that sent shivers down your spine. “Meet me in the car in 5.” Is all he said before excusing himself.

.

You don’t know what happened, but you found yourself being pulled into the back seat of his car, and onto his lap with a pair of lips eagerly attaching onto yours. No words were shared, but you both can feel the yearning that was exchanged.

Your hands were found to be in his hair, gently tugging his black locks as he kissed you feverishly. Your heads swayed in a rhythm to match the desperation that was oozing out of you guys.

He momentarily pulls away to catch his breath, and he swears to himself when he allows himself to take in the sight before him. Your hair was disheveled, lips swollen and parted to let out staggering breaths but were glistening in his saliva, and the straps of your dress were hung past your shoulders— top threatening to fall down.

“You look so—“ He was cut short when you kiss him, taking him aback. And a groan emits from his throat when you grind your clothed cunt against his crotch. “Fucking slut.” He curses in between kisses, hands groaping at your ass.

“Shut the fuck up.” You retaliate, lips parting to let out a series of whimpers as his kisses made their way down to your neck. Your flesh was found to be in between his teeth, nibbling on the skin to form red bruises— him knowing that it’ll appear darker for the next occurring days.

You slip the straps off of your arms, allowing the top of your dress to fall freely— your breasts spilling out of its confines. “Fuck. Such gorgeous tits.” You hear him say, one of his hands traveling up your sides till he cups one of the soft flesh in his palms.

“Hurry up Yixiang, before I get dry.” You warn, hands desperately reaching under to undo the belt of his pants. But was stopped with a hand around your wrist, halting you.

“Beg for it then.”

“Fuck you.” You spat.

But his other hand was quick to wrap around your neck and the moan that followed from you was enough to feed his already high of an ego. He pulls you closer to him, lips ghosting over yours. “Beg for it or else I’m leaving you here.” You would’ve thought he was kidding, but knowing him, he’s a man of his word.

He pinches his fingers into the side of your throat, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to give you a warning.

“Please, give it to me, Nicholas.. I want it.” You plea, rolling your hips around in attempt to rub your clothed cunt on his prominent bulge. “Please, Yixiang?”

The way you said his name made something within him internally snap. Was it you calling out for him? Maybe you saying his name in such a seductive manner? Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re finally begging him, especially when it’s for him to fuck you.

He flips you two over with his hand pinning you down onto the seat cushion by your throat. “Such a good girl.” He hums with a cocky smile, halting his movements to dip down and give you a gentle kiss, “All you could’ve done was beg like a good slut and maybe then I could’ve fucked you earlier than now.”

You reacted to that statement with a moan that was not intended to come out, but hey, does it matter at this point? “God, I knew you were a slut— but I didn’t know how much. You’ve probably been waiting for me to fuck you for a while now, hm?” And you nod. You nod desperately. Finally succumbing into your desires all these years.

He leans down to take your lips with his once more, but this kiss was more passionate than lustful. It was as if he was confessing his similar desires, but with a more personal touch to it.

In that interim, his pants were pulled down and discarded, along with his underwear and shirt. Your dress was bunched up to your waist, revealing your lower half. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered against your lips as he pumps himself in his hand.

“Please, Nicholas,, I—I need you.” You mewl, hands finding themselves on him. One cupping the side of his face, and one pressed flat against his bare chest.

Your underwear was pulled to the side by his fingers, and he allowed the head of his cock to slide between your slicked folds. He thought you may needed prep, but with how much of his cock was being smothered in your arousal, you didn’t need it. His mouth hung open in awe as he watches how easily he’s gliding between you. “You’re so wet, princess.” The pet name rolls off his tongue so smoothly that it makes you clench around nothing but air. You gasp when his head continuously nudges against your clit, giving you the stimulation you needed. He pulls his hips back, grabbing the shaft of his cock to align his tip to your entrance. “Gon’ let me rub this pretty clit, hm?” He coos, his hand reaching up to rub fast circles along the bundle of nerves. “Oh my god—!” You moan as you feel him start to push himself into you.

The sensation of his cock prying your walls apart so deliciously was enough to have your head lolling back with his name slipping off your tongue in a desperate manner. You were concerned with how long you were gonna last when you already felt this good when he wasn’t even fully in yet.

“Oh, fuck.” Nicholas groans as your heat engulfed him tightly. “You’re so tight, fuck. Don’t know why I didn’t fuck this pussy before.” With one push of his hips, he fully bottoms out inside of you— and in unison, you both moan out in pure bliss. Nicholas’s eyes momentarily flutters shut as your warm, gummy walls squeezing him tight was a sensation he didn’t know he needed so badly in his lifetime.

“J-Just.. give me a moment.” You breathe out, your fingers gently taps his chest to indicate that you need a little time to get used to his size. And he gladly onliges without hesitation. Probably the first time where he went along with your wishes. Once you felt more relaxed, you didn’t waste any more time to let him know. “M-Move, please.”

He started with a slow but steady pace, making sure not to overwhelm you although the thing he wants to do to you right now is to fuck you senseless. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing your face contort in pleasure, moans slipping freely past those plump lips. “Yixiang..!” You gasp when a particular thrust had your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Yeah, princess? Does this spot feel good?” He rolls his hips experimentally, wanting to get another reaction like that out of you. And just as he thought, another delicious cry emits from you. “Tell me, does it feel good?” He questions, beginning to pick up the pace. You want to reply, but you’re unable to voice it out at the moment when the tip of his cock keeps hitting at a certain spot that makes your vision blur. “Yixiang! Oh fuck!” You cry as he starts snapping his hips against yours. The force of his thrusts were powerful enough to have you hike up the seat if it weren’t for his hand pinning you down by your neck. “M-More! Oh my god!”

Nicholas had to ground himself from losing his control. But it doesn’t necessarily help when he has the girl of his dreams writhing underneath him, taking his cock like a fucking champ. He forces his eyes to stay open rather than closing them and letting himself get lost in his head and potentially lasting shorter than he anticipated to. Which is the last thing he wants when he finally has you to himself.

You looked so beautiful under right now. The way your glossy eyes gazes at him with such a distinct look of desperation, your furrowed brows of concentration to not finish that quickly, and those beautiful moans that made him want to listen to for hours on end.

You were feeling like you were nearing your end, and the pressure in your lower abdomen was a huge factor. “Y-Yixiang, I’m gonna cum!” You announce with a shaky voice, sharp breaths along with a mantra of his name follows afterwards. And he can definitely feel it too with the way your clamping down on him was dangerously pushing him to cumming inside of you. “Fuck, you feel so good, princess. Come with me, okay? Just hold on a little longer.” He urges you, dipping down to leave open-mouthed kisses on your flushed cheek.

You nod in response, wanting to come with him. But with each passing moment was harder for you. Your hands latched onto his sweaty back, nails digging into the smooth flesh, dragging along his skin as you desperately tried to suppress your growing need to come. “Please, Nicholas!”

He grabbed the back of your knees and pushed them up to your chest, essentially folding you in half. When he pushed himself up onto his knees, he began slamming his hips down onto yours, reaching a deeper angle in this position. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, y/n.” Hot, fat tears starts rolling down your cheeks as the pressure became unbearable for you to hold. But with one last thrust, his hips were flushed against your ass, and just like that— the knot within your stomach comes undone. A lewd cry leaves your lips as waves of your orgasm washed over you, leaving you to ride it out. With your name spilling out, he spills his load into your sopping cunt. Filling you up so much to the point where his cum began seeping out of your hole.

You guys stayed like that for a few more seconds until he eventually has to pull out, resulting in you whining as even that sensation was overwhelming for you. Your hands reach out to hold his, “D-Don’t go,, stay here for a minute, please?” You breathe out heavily, eyelids threatening to close on you. Nicholas couldn’t help but chuckle as he goes to lay down beside you. He engulfs you into his arms, making sure your naked figure was covered by his. “Wasn’t planning on it, princess.” He whispers, kissing your temple. “Whatever.. I know you would.” You mumble, sighing in content when his hand would gently massage your thigh. “Hm, I’m a little hurt, princess. After all these years, you still don’t know me.”

“I think I know you a little too well.” You respond, looking over your shoulder to give him a small smile.

“Yeah? On a scale of 1-10, how much do you think I wanna go for round 2?”

[rosakuma]

FINALE PREDICTIONS FOR CH.5 TRAPPER, VICTIM, KILLER, SURVIVORS AND OTHER STUFF!

Hey sooo…..Tetro Pink ending soon with this and next Friday. Apologies for not making any post about the previous batch of episodes but they were…..a lot. Anyways! I am of course very sad and scared we’re close to the end of this fun tragic ride of Tetro Pink, but before we get to the finale BDA and trial next week. I want to crack a shot at who I think is dying, who’s responsible for the traps, who’s surviving, and what will happen after the trial. Now some of my predictions are just going to be a mixture of theory crafting with some evidence and just “I have a gut feeling about it”. None of what I’m going to say obviously going to be true(I mean look at my ch.4 prediction ), but I just want to give out my reasoning for each for fun!

Spoilers for ch.5 up to this point and kinda everything before ch.5

Okay getting started, let’s go over who I think did the traps, notes, stole wada’s stash, getting Ken and Ojima high and drunk, and who planted the drugs. Then we’ll get into who I think has the most victim and killer vibes. And finally the survivors and what might happen.

The traps, notes, and the reason behind it

With how frequent they keep getting from going from a gasoline bucket to a chloride, a bomb and then hatchet!? Yeah this is getting intense, but time to figure out who I think it is. Yeah its Ken Hasegawa.

Looking at all of the current suspects, it really boils down to Ken.

For starters we can easily eliminate Mai due to her at first accidentally triggering the traps intended for someone else and how the later ones are intended for her to find.

Hiroaki and Tamba were supposed to be the victims of the first two traps, so it would be weird for either to set the rest clearly for Mai. You could make the argument that the gasoline one was for Hiroaki by Tamba and the locker one was for Tamba by Hiroaki. But it's strange why Tamba would resort to violence towards him because during that point of the story, she clarified that she’s only going to stalk him to see if he’s suspicious and if he is, she’ll just hold him hostage until another murder happens. While for Hiroaki its strange because he clearly doesn't want to hurt or have anything to do with her and just want her to leave him alone. Also he doesn't know her schedule well to know when she would hit that trap.

Wada and Yanagi are a double package in terms of their own body betrays them. Specifically that Wada starving himself made him too weak for him to commit any of the traps with how he has to carry buckets full of gasoline and caltrops and even a ladder or chair to reach high enough for both the art room and locker room doorframe. Wada is 5’1, so he would have to get a ladder/chair to reach up there, but risk of being caught is too much for him. This kinda applies to Tamba too since she’s short(5’2 to be exact), although she is technically strong enough to lift a ladder/chair, but the risk of being caught too much. While for Yanagi, sure he’s tall enough to reach the doorframe of both rooms, so that’s not a problem. But there’s the fact Yanagi has both a concussion he’s recovering from and his hand being messed up still from Decision Game(Von even confirm that his hand in a permanent relaxed fist position). So he runs the risk of either collapsing from his symptoms of his concussion coming back or trying to lift up a heavy bucket filled with gasoline/caltrops one handed. There’s also the emotional factors with these two as the target neither of them would want to hurt on purpose even if the traps doesn't kill the person.

And then there’s Ojima who while tall enough with being 6’3, he runs into the emotional attachment factor(him caring for Hiroaki) and the fact he dissociates often to where he would be unable to set any of these traps. Especially with running the risk of easily being caught.

So all that leaves is Ken who has a good explaination for each of these concerns we might have. Reaching the door frame? Ken is 6’2 he’s tall enough to reach it without needing a ladder. Ken while nice to the others, isn’t that emotionally close/attach to them(due to him only staying by Kamimura’s side and never developing any further friendships with those alive) to struggle doing something to them that can possibly kill them. No physical barriers that prevent him from setting these up(yes he lose his eye, but that doesn't mean he can’t do anything still). And he’s not really accounted for where he was at for most of these events. Not to mention another thing that possible supports this theory is the fact he told Hiroaki that he was going to the storage room to find sealant for the cold lockers. And what happened soon afterwards? Oh nothing except a bomb blew up in a book that the note Mai received told her to. Which btw Hasegawa frequent the library most of the time too, where he would know where that specific book would be. And if Ken the trap setter, then he also has to be the note writer for Tamba’s death threat with how these new notes connect to the first one in trying to get Mai to trigger these traps and get to them. Especially since she’s the only one stubborn and stupid enough to continue doing them(sorry Mai Mai ily still). This also works with him being with Tamba before she found the note, so honestly he could’ve found out she’s going to the locker room after a certain amount of time and decided to plant it before she got there.

But why would he do all of this? My current running theory is that Ken has figured out something to help them escape somehow, but cannot directly speak it out loud. So to cause distraction from the doctors and Monomoko not catching onto him. He’s doing all of this to both distract everyone else with new worries popping up, distract the overseers into thinking he’s planning a murder, and to get Mai to specifically help him without telling her directly the plan. Hence, why the latest note mentions if she continues to follow the notes to help them all escape, Tamba will live and how this trapper needs her strength. Not to mention Mai is right that despite the traps hurting her, they’re not deadly to where they’re going to straight up kill her(I mean we can argue the bomb and hatchet, but she’s still kicking soooo…yeah). This can still fit with Hasegawa’s character in not wanting to really hurt or kill anyone despite not really bonding with anyone on a deeper level like he did with Toshi.

Now let’s get to next on the list of:

Wada’s Stash

There are two main suspects I have for who has possible done this. Those being Hasegawa and Tamba. Going over how they could’ve done it first, both these two have investigated the dorms before and have found his stash. Its possible either could remember the location of it to take it. Along with the fact a lot of people here keep forgetting to lock their doors too. But then there’s the factor that anyone still could’ve done it with most alive have seeing Wada’s room(Ojima when fixing his computer, Mai and Shigeki when investigating in ch.3). Another problem is what if he just moved his stash in his room somewhere else? How would they remember to find it then while being quick as possible to sneak in? Though I’ll still suspect these two based off of the motivation for each.

For Ken, it could connect with his plan if we go with my theory on him setting the traps. Somehow stealing Wada’s stash was important in terms of his plan. Perhaps as just another distraction for Wada and Mai to deal with. Or maybe Wada was hiding something else in his stash that Ken noticed before he would need. Plus it is possible even if Wada moved it, Ken was in his room before again during [Quick Check] since he agreed to help Wada with his selective mutism. Maybe he was searching Wada’s room to know where it is while Wada was chatting with Hiroaki.

Now what about Tamba that makes her a suspicious candidate? Well this mostly goes down to two things. 1. Tamba has always been the one who keeps going on about Wada’s stash since she doesn't like how he’s hoarding all this food from everyone. Not to mention getting on Wada about how much he eats. And 2. Her current paranoia could’ve caused her to maybe camp out somewhere(probably her dorm room before moving out due to the punishment).

So you might be wondering “Well why would she risk stealing from Wada’s room and not just…stock up in the kitchen or any remaining food left in the storage room?”. Well for the storage room, we don’t know if Wada actually did take all the food there plus its never restocked, so its hard to keep on inventory to be sure if something was there before or not. While for the kitchen….y’all remember what happened to Isono right? Staying in the kitchen to get something to eat, only to get her head bashed in by the only other person there. Yeah Tamba not taking a chance I bet if it was her.

Highsegawa and Drunkjima

Ok so this one is kinda hard since we don't know what exactly got Ken high and Ojima drunk. We’ll get Ken out of the way first.

So somehow Ken got himself high after the defence game. I’ve seen some say maybe he did this to himself to ease the pain. To which searching it up, it does say “THC or CBD binds to specific receptors on the brain and nerve cells, which slows pain impulses and eases discomfort.” So honestly it's possible. But Ken’s reaction may discourage this a bit. But okay let’s say regardless if Ken did this to himself or someone else, who got the THC and where from?

My only guesses are that its either from the medbay OR it was someone’s reward. And the only two people we know now that got an reward from Defence game is Tamba and Wada. But I have no clue why they would want to make Hasegawa high unless they were trying to help him I guess in a way to ease the pain? Knowing now that Wada was the one that picked the bodily sacrifice punishment for everyone, which caused Ken to lose his eye, maybe if its an reward that Wada received, he gave it to Ken due to feeling bad about what happened. They were both in the dining hall before Hiroaki and Ojima came in on the day Ken ended up high.

Okay so moving onto Takeshi. I think he got himself drunk. Let me explain. So the two times it seems he got himself drunk was after a love confession. The first one being himself slipping that he loves Hiroaki to him. While the second is Hiroaki saying he loves him back when Ojima waking up from his hangover. Each time, Ojima went to or remained in the art room where him and Hiroaki is sleeping. But then there’s the question “Where did Ojima get alcohol to drink in the paint room?” Well well well, who said it had to be alcohol? Apparently according to the web, you can actually get drunk off paint fumes. “In general, the effects appear similar to the effects of alcohol intoxication. Depending on the time spent inhaling, one may begin to feel a slight stimulant effect and a loss of inhibitions. As the chemicals take effect, the person will often feel as if they are intoxicated by alcohol.” So its likely that Ojima might’ve been huffing paint to forget about the love confession incidents. Though if not the love confession for why he’s getting himself drunk, then maybe it's his new way of coping with his trauma coming back to him to try not to space out. Or alternatively he’s doing this to cope with recent events of hurting others. Either way I am very concerned about this and I hope he stops(especially if he survives after all of this).

The Drugs

This one also still has me stumped. Sure I could just say it was leftovers from when Okazaki took them or that Ken planted them since I think he’s the trap setter. But I’m pretty sure that she used up all of Hiroaki’s drugs, these seem to be new, and Idk if Ken was planning yet to do anything that drastic to get Hiroaki to relapse. My only guess really if it’s not Ken or leftovers Hiroaki forgot about is that Tamba planted them.

I know that’s might be a reach since Tamba and Hiroaki didn’t start fully beefing with each other until she got the note. But let’s think about their relationship before hand. With this chapter revealing a lot about Tamba’s feelings on Hiroaki, with the spotlight as an added bonus that gives more insight, it’s clear she never hold a high opinion of him. Tamba did like Hiroaki a bit, but in a way she felt like she didn’t have to behave well since well Hiroaki way worse than her in comparison, so no one will really focus on her than him. And before all of this with the death threat and Watari’s trial, there was the stairwell incident(well the first one that is). Tamba almost hurt or potentially killed Hiroaki down the stairs because she was very paranoid. She didn’t mean to of course, but this was kinda brush off by her and some of the others despite Hiroaki being really upset about it. But that didn’t matter since during this time after the trial, Ojima and him were discussing a plan for him to apologize to everyone.

Hiroaki discovered the drugs before he apologized to Tamba and the others. So I could see with it being the finale trial where they have to just go through one more murder to get this done and over with that maybeeeeee….Tamba decided to make Hiroaki overdose so it counts as a suicide and they all get out scot free. To which staff side confirm if Hiroaki overdose from those drugs, it would count as a suicide. I know Tamba doesn’t have a way to know that’s completely true, but she doesn’t really think through anyways with things sometimes. Plus it would be a perfect plan as no one would probably guess it was her who planted them and just assumed that Hiroaki found them himself and did it because he’s an addict. So even if it does count as a murder, Tamba would win it and we know she’s not willing to die even to save Mai or Shigeki from her student spotlight.

Okay now it’s time to go through who’s potentially on the chopping block this chapter!

Before we do, let’s go over where everyone’s currently at the moment.

Hiroaki & Ojima- Balcony

Wada- Was in the hallway with Ojima presumably on the first or second floor, now should be back in the hallway by the stairwell with Mai and Tamba.

Ken & Yanagi- Both are trapped in the medbay/morgue, presumedly overnight.

Tamba & Mai- Both still at the bottom of the stairwell around the basement level near the hallways.

Going through this, I think really the most vulnerable at the moment of who could be killed is Yanagi and Ken right now. Sure Wada is at a vulnerable moment too of being caught, but the only person right now that could kill him is Mai. To which I doubt she would and plus, Tamba would know because Mai was with her while she was crying in pain from her fracture.

So unless Ken and Shigeki are let out by sometime tomorrow, I don’t think they’re going to be safe. There’s also the fact someone lock them in there and….yeah I think one of them did it and I think it was Ken. I don’t know why exactly, but when you rewatch the episode they get trapped in, Ken is the one to go to the door. He messes with it before saying it’s locked and Yanagi coming over to try opening it.

You could say maybe it was Hiroaki who lock the door to prevent Tamba from getting help. But that doesn’t make sense. There was a short time frame from when Ken and Shige went to the medbay and Ojima and Wada heading upstairs to find Hiroaki. The balcony not on the same level as the medbay is. So basically Hiroaki would’ve have to been camping out near the medbay to them, lock them in, and then rush upstairs without anyone noticing? Very unlikely and I do think he ran up stairs to hide near the balcony. Wada and Ojima were already upstairs. So Mai would have to be the only one who could’ve lock them in if it was a third party. But she obviously wouldn’t because why the hell would she lock the people in who’s trying to help Tamba? This entire chapter has her trying to find out who’s doing all of this and targeting Tamba for her sake of safety!

So yeah I think Ken lock him and Shigeki in the medbay. But I’m not 100% sure why. My guess is it might have to do with something with his plan, but I’m still not sure.

As for how this murder might go….all I can think of is somebody going to die via a trap.

Okay murder aside since I don’t have much to say, let’s just go down the list of who I think is dying as a victim or killer.

Victim(s)

Yanagi Shigeki- Yeah Yanagi high on my list for becoming the victim of this chapter. With how much importance it’s put on Yanagi protecting Mai. I have a feeling that knight’s oath will be the end of him as perhaps Mai might trigger another trap and he will try to save her by knocking her out of the way of it. Even if not through a trap, whoever trap him in that medbay whether it’s Ken or not surely doesn’t have have good plans for him. Also he confessed his feelings to Mai and this is Danganronpa, so of course he’s going to die before Mai can tell him her feelings about him too.

Hayashi Mai- Now I’m not fully sure if Mai dying or not as the victim as much as I was before we found out her reward is her vote being the only one voted as a solo vote. But there’s still a good chance she can be on the chopping block due to maybe the killer wanting to get rid of her pronto as she holds a lot of power right now. Plus if the trap setter is actually planning for a murder to happen, it could be hers.

Ojima Takeshi- So Ojima I was for sure thinking was going to die last chapter….he did not. But this chapter I am really afraid that might finally happen. I think most likely with how he’s a risk with falling into any deadly traps with his daydreaming or the fact he’s getting himself drunk can lead to this outcome. Plus the fact he also did a love confession this chapter as well isn’t a good sign for him and Hiroaki. Not to mention how tragic his death would be with last chapter focusing on how he’s afraid of dying young or that he’ll never be able to have a future with how much his lift been ruined by his parents and uncle.

As for the others, I didn’t put any for Hiroaki, Tamba, and Wada as I think they’re all red herrings in terms of dying. As for Ken, I don’t think he’s dying either as I think he’s going to play a big importance in this case.

Killer(s)

Wait why is it the exact same people + Ken? Lol yeah I also think the 3 picks I chose for the victims can alternatively be the killers in my eyes. This is kinda mixture on fitting any potential tragedy themes we could have for them while Ken is something I was thinking logically could happen.

Yanagi Shigeki- So if Yanagi’s not on the chopping block as the victim, then I feel like killer most likely would happen too. Now keep this in mind, him including my other picks minus the last one I’m thinking are going to get the Hama treatment in terms of accidental killing someone without realizing their actions did. So it would be tragic for Yanagi to actually be the finale killer compared to ch.1 where he was accused/framed as the killer of Isono. Especially with how the one who will be executing him is Mai…the woman he loves. And the worse part is, he would accept it as he rather save her and everyone else than his own life. After fall, his knight’s oath swears to protect her.

Hayashi Mai- Now if Mai instead ends up on the tragic accidental killer route, it would fit with how her falling into the mastermind’s trap of following all these notes and traps lead to her being turn into the killer. She would basically have to vote for herself to be killed just to save everyone….and you know she will. She swore to protect everyone and get them out alive right? So if she must, she will. Also how depressing if all of this happens and Yanagi the victim too? The man she might love who ended up confessing to her died because of her hands. Some Romeo and Juliet stuff right there man.

Ojima Takeshi- I feel so evil for this one, but this is kinda something I both don’t and want. It would fit soooo well in the tragedy of development this chapter has for Ojima with having him be afraid of hurting people to end up killing someone(albeit accidentally through a stupid trap). Which it’s possible even more now not because of him dissociating, but because he keeps ending up drunk. Just imagine a drunk Takeshi ends up triggering a trap that ends up killing someone else and he just stares at them. Dissociating from the whole event because he thinks he did it. To then have Hiroaki defend him the whole trial, seeming to save him only to be proven wrong and it’s true that Takeshi is counted as the killer of this case. Also while it would suck in a way if Ojima dies for Hiroaki’s development, it makes sense for it to happen. Up to this point, Hiroaki didn’t lose anyone close to him. Sure, he did lose Chiba and Tsuno, but he didn’t get to develop those bonds further than he would like to and sadly didn’t treat them right when they were alive as well. Ojima been the only one he’s been close to since day one he cares about from beginning to end. To lose him allows him to show the vulnerability he’s been hiding from the whole group this entire time and cement how he’s just like the rest of them. A scared teenager who loss someone they care and even loved thanks to this horrible game.

Hasegawa Ken- Okay so Ken really not that high on my list as while I do think he set up all of these traps, I don’t think he’s going to be counted as a killer seeing how Watari’s trial works and the fact staffside confirm that if Okazaki only killed Tsuno via trap, it counts as a suicide due to Tsuno opening the trap door. But in the scenario he does, yeah he might be on the chopping block as the killer. Though I will say it would be cool if he does end up as the killer, he somehow escapes his execution with how most likely he has a plan for him and everyone to escape.

So that leaves the remainder as who I think will be the survivors are:

Hiroaki Nakamigawa

Wada Masanari

Tamba Ruiko

Hasegawa Ken

and whoever out of my 3 picks escapes both the victim and killer allegations. To which if you want me to bet who, then I’m betting Mai.

After all of that, how do I think Pink is going to end? Well for starters we know it’s next week as it’s confirm we only have 2 Tetro Fridays left. So definitely no chapter six and the epilogue is most likely going to be just be on the same day as the trial.

I have 3 scenarios that I believe in. Spoiler alert, I don’t believe in the solo survivor theory via killer wining or battle royale or memory erase theory. So no mentions of those for these.

Scenario 1: Escape from the School!

So this theory is that after the trial during the execution, the students are going to escape with a plan thanks to Ken. This might involve them raiding the arsenal for weapons or a reward one of them won on one of the previous games. This can also maybe save the killer of this chapter and result in us having 6 survivors instead of 5! Alternatively if not themselves allowing their escape, imagine if Monomoko helps them escape since there’s still a good conscience in them. Eventually everyone gets out, steals a car, and boom! They all escape free and swear revenge on these people for doing this to them.

Scenario 2: So can I go home now?

It just simply happens. After the trial, everyone gets to go home as promised. Of course they’re taken outside probably in bags and transported to a secluded area away from the lab so they themselves can figure out the way back to their homes together. Too much of a risk to just simply drive them all home obviously. This allows the students to if they desire give each other their contacts and travel home first, then swear revenge on their captors later.

Scenario 3: *Vanishes out of Thin Air*

This is relatively the same as the previous scenario, except Monomoko just teleport them all back to their homes. Just poof! They’re gone. At most we might get a hint of one of the students deciding to try to seek out the others so they can figure out what happen to them all and who done this to them. Especially since they need to figure out what to tell the public for some of them.

To which after any of these scenarios it just cuts to Yonekura like usual, as they prepare the next set of students….

We’ll see if I got anything right from these! See y’all tomorrow, I’m so scared rn!

[misshoneyimhome]

500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

Cross me - “If you cross her, then you cross me” I Joel Farabee

Summary: You and Joel Farabee often clashed, but then one night he saw you in a new light. And when he stepped up to defend you, the shift in your relationship became undeniable.

Tropes & warnings: Joel Farabee x reader, enemies to lovers, reader working for the Flyers, protective!Joel, angry ex-boyfriend, Smut 18+; fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (p in v)

Other notes: Alrighty, babes! So, this one's for the anon who requested Joel Farabee smut 🤗 I have to admit, I wasn't too familiar with him at first, but I hope I've managed to capture his vibe just a little bit 🙈

Word count: 3.1K

➼｡ﾟ

The locker room was buzzing with post-match adrenaline. The Philadelphia Flyers had just secured a thrilling victory, and the air was electric with high-fives and laughter. Joel Farabee, however, couldn't shake off the nagging feeling of unfinished business. And as he pulled off his gear, his eyes drifted to the opposite corner of the room where you stood, talking animatedly with one of the coaches.

You were one of the team’s PR managers, brought in to shake up the Flyers' public image a couple of seasons ago. And from day one, you and Joel had clashed over every little detail—press releases, social media posts, interview schedules. It seemed like every interaction ended in an argument, a battle of wills that neither of you could back down from.

_

One particular incident still stood out in your memory. It was the day after a tough loss, and the tension in the locker room was palpable. You had drafted a press release to address the team's performance, emphasising their determination to bounce back stronger. Joel, however, had different ideas.

"Seriously? This makes us sound like we're begging for sympathy," Joel had said, holding up the draft with a scowl.

You crossed your arms, meeting his glare head-on. "It's called damage control, Joel. We need to show the fans that the team is resilient and committed to improving."

But he just shook his head, frustration etched across his features. "We need to be honest, not sugarcoat everything. The fans deserve better than empty platitudes."

"It's not about sugarcoating,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It's about maintaining a positive image and keeping morale up."

Joel stepped closer, his voice lowering but no less intense. "And it's my job to make sure we’re genuine. The guys don't need to be coddled. They need to feel the weight of their performance and come back fighting."

The argument went back and forth, neither of you willing to concede. Your voices rose, drawing the attention of some of the other players who exchanged wary glances but wisely stayed out of it.

Yet, finally, you threw your hands up in exasperation. "Fine. Let's just put out a bland, generic statement and see how that goes."

"It's not about being bland,” Joel's eyes flashed with irritation. “It's about being real. The fans can tell when we're faking it."

You bit back a retort, recognising that continuing the argument was futile. "We'll revise it together," you said through gritted teeth, barely managing to keep your tone professional. "But we need to find a balance."

Joel nodded curtly, still clearly annoyed but willing to cooperate. "Agreed."

_

But tonight, something was different. Joel noticed the way you winced as you moved, your usually bright eyes dulled with pain. 

His brow furrowed in concern. Although Joel wasn’t exactly sure why he cared so much, the thought of you being hurt made his chest tighten.

So, as the locker room began to empty out, he found himself walking towards you. You were packing up your things, your face set in a determined mask.

"Hey," he said, his voice softer than he intended. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

You looked up, surprise flickering in your eyes before they narrowed suspiciously. "What is it, Farabee? Need another fight to cap off your night?"

But Joel shook his head, taking a step closer. "Who did this to you?" he asked, his voice low and serious.

Your eyes widened in shock. "What are you talking about?"

"The way you're moving. You're hurt. Did someone do this to you?"

You glanced around, as if checking to see if anyone else was listening, then sighed. "It's nothing. Just a little accident. Nothing for you to worry about."

Yet, Joel's jaw clenched. "It is something if someone hurt you."

"Why do you even care, Joel?” your breath hitched at the intensity in his eyes. “We’re not exactly friends."

And with that, you dismissed him as you walked out, leaving Joel a little frustrated. All he wanted was to help, and yet you didn’t want to accept it. He stood there for a moment, watching you go, a mix of worry and helplessness churning inside him. He had never felt this protective before, and it frustrated him that you wouldn't let him in.

_

A few nights later, on a rare off night for the Flyers, the team decided to unwind at a popular downtown bar. The atmosphere was lively, with music thumping and laughter echoing from every corner. And naturally, Joel was there, enjoying the night with his teammates, yet his eyes kept drifting toward you. You were mingling with everyone, your laughter genuine as you joked with colleagues and team partners. It was a side of you he rarely saw, and for some unknown reason, it made him smile.

You had grown close to many of the team members over the past few months. Your hard work and dedication had earned their respect, and tonight was no exception. You moved through the crowd with ease, sharing stories and drinks, a welcome presence among the players and staff.

However, suddenly, the room's lighthearted mood shifted. And Joel noticed it immediately—your expression changed, your face paling as you glanced toward the entrance. Following your gaze, Joel's eyes landed on a man who had just walked in - your ex boyfriend.

His heart sank as he saw the fear and distress in your eyes, the way your shoulders tensed and your smile vanished. He had heard rumours but hadn't had the chance to ask you about it, yet he knew: your ex was the reason for your recent pain.

Joel’s protective instincts suddenly flared up.

Your ex then made a beeline toward you, his presence like a dark cloud interrupting the joyful atmosphere. You tried to maintain your composure, but Joel could see the tears welling up in your eyes, the knot in your chest tightening as your ex began shouting. His voice was loud, drawing attention from everyone around you. It was nothing but humiliating.

“You think you can ignore me?” your ex yelled, his face twisted with anger. “You’re coming home with me. NOW!”

You tried to speak, to tell him to leave you alone, but your voice caught in your throat. And as the bar fell silent, all eyes were on the unfolding drama.

But before you could say anything else, Joel suddenly stepped in. He moved swiftly, positioning himself between you and your ex. His expression was fierce, eyes locked onto the man in front of him.

"Maybe you should leave," Joel spoke firmly, his voice low but commanding.

Your ex sneered, clearly unimpressed. "You don’t get to tell me what to do. She thinks she can leave me? Well, she can’t. She’s coming home with me."

"No," Joel said simply, his tone unyielding. "If you cross her, then you cross me. And I don’t think you want that."

There was a tense silence as your ex seemed taken aback by Joel’s unwavering stance. He scoffed, about to retort when another voice joined in.

"Actually, you cross all of us," Sean Couturier said, the captain stepping up beside Joel. And then, one by one, more players moved to stand behind them, forming a protective wall between you and your ex.

The solidarity of the team was overwhelming. You had never expected anything like this—the entire team protecting you, with Joel at the front. It was both humbling and empowering.

Your ex looked around, realising he was outnumbered and outmatched. So, with a frustrated huff, he turned and stormed out of the bar.

The moment he was gone, you felt the knot in your chest begin to loosen. And then Joel turned to you, his expression softening. "You okay?"

You nodded, tears still brimming in your eyes but now for a different reason. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice shaky with gratitude. “So much.” 

Joel gave you a small, reassuring smile. "Always. If you ever need anything, I’m here."

The team dispersed back into the crowd, the incident already becoming part of the night’s stories. Yet, Joel stayed close to you for the rest of the evening, his presence a comforting reminder that you weren’t alone. And as the night wore on, the initial shock and embarrassment gave way to a growing sense of warmth and safety. Joel’s protectiveness, once a point of contention, now felt like an anchor.

And eventually, the two of you found a quieter corner of the bar, away from the bustling crowd. You sat together on a plush couch, the dim lighting creating an intimate atmosphere. Joel handed you a drink, and you took a sip, feeling the warmth spread through your chest.

"Are you really okay?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any lingering pain.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I am now. Thanks to you."

"I meant what I said," Joel's gaze softened as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "If you ever need anything, I’m here."

You looked into his eyes, seeing a depth of sincerity that took your breath away. The tension between you shifted again, the space between you charged with a new energy. In that moment, you realised that the constant bickering had masked a deeper connection, one that was now impossible to ignore.

"Joel," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "I never expected you to..."

"To care?" he finished for you, a half-smile playing on his lips.

You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from his. "Yeah."

Joel leaned in closer, his hand still resting on your cheek. "Well, I do. More than I thought possible."

Your heart pounded in your chest, the world around you fading as you focused entirely on him. The warmth of his hand, the intensity in his gaze—it all drew you in, making it impossible to resist.

And just like that, as everything else fell away, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a gentle, tentative kiss. It was soft and sweet at first, a hesitant exploration of new territory. But as the seconds ticked by, the kiss deepened, fuelled by the unspoken emotions that had been building between you.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. Joel’s thumb brushed your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Wow," you whispered, a smile spreading across your face.

Joel chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Yeah, wow."

You both sat there for a moment, savouring the new closeness and the promise of what could be. Yet, you yearned for more—a longing to feel more than just his lips on yours.

The bar's lively atmosphere buzzed around you, but all you could focus on was Joel. His presence was magnetic, drawing you in with every passing second. You didn't want this night to end, and the idea of parting ways now felt unbearable.

"I don’t want to go home alone," you admitted softly, looking up at him through your lashes.

Joel’s eyes darkened with understanding, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Neither do I."

You bit your lip, contemplating your next move. You didn’t want to seem too obvious, but the desire to continue this night with him was overwhelming. So, gathering your courage, you took his hand in yours, the simple touch sending a spark through your body.

“Come with me,” you whispered, your voice filled with both hope and anticipation.

Joel simply nodded, no hesitation in his eyes. “Lead the way.”

The walk to your place was filled with a comfortable silence, the night air cool against your flushed cheeks, as your hand remained in his, a steady anchor while you navigated through the city streets. And every so often, you’d steal a glance at him, the look of determination and tenderness in his eyes making your heart race.

Then when you finally reached your apartment, you fumbled with the keys, your nerves getting the better of you. But Joel’s hand on yours steadied your trembling fingers, and you managed to unlock the door, pushing it open with a sense of anticipation.

And as soon as the door closed behind you, the tension between you snapped. Joel’s hands were swiftly on your waist, forcefully pulling you close as his lips found yours once again. The kiss was more intense this time, fuelled by nothing but desire. You led him to the living room, your lips never parting, as your hands roamed every part of him.

But then you pulled back slightly, just enough to catch your breath, your forehead resting against his. “Joel,” you breathed, your voice filled with longing.

And he simply answered with another kiss, his hands roaming your back, pulling you even closer to his body. “I know,” he murmured against your lips. “Me too.” Then with a shared look of understanding, you led him further into your apartment, towards the bedroom.

The room fell hot almost immediately as neither of you wanted to waste any time undressing each other. With each kiss, every touch, friction caused sparks to fly as your mutual desire filled the air.

Joel’s fingers deftly unbuttoned your shirt, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You tugged at his shirt, pushing upwards and prompting him to pull it over his head, your hands eager to explore the muscles beneath. He then pulled your shirt off as well, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in the sight of you.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice husky.

Yet, you merely responded by pulling him closer, your hands tangling in his hair as you kissed him again. The world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the two of you, lost in a whirlwind of passion and longing.

Joel’s hands slid down your back, the sensation of his touch on your bare skin making you shiver, your body reacting to his touch with a fervour you’d never experienced before. So, you quickly worked on unbuttoning his trousers, your fingers trembling with anticipation.

And as your clothes fell to the floor, you both moved towards the bed, the longing building with every step. The sheets felt cool against your heated skin as Joel lowered you onto the mattress, his naked body pressing against yours. His kisses became more urgent, his hands exploring every inch of you, igniting a fire that burned brighter with each touch.

Your hands roamed his back, feeling the strength of his muscles as he moved against you. Every kiss, every caress was a declaration of the connection you’d both been too stubborn to acknowledge until now.

Then Joel’s lips found yours again, the kiss deepening as he settled between your legs. His hand then gently snaked between your bodies, tracing soft trails over your smooth skin until he found your core.

You arched into him, your body craving more as the heat between you was almost unbearable. And effortlessly, he allowed two fingers to gently enter you, exploring your heat and tight muscles, stretching you with every slow pump. His name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he responded with a low growl of desire.

“Joel,” you moaned softly, feeling the arousal build within as he moved his fingers a little faster. You were completely soaked, making it effortless for him to massage your core.

But both of you also felt the impatience for a rush take over. Despite how good it felt having Joel stimulating you, you needed more. You craved him inside you.

And Joel was feeling the same arousal burning within him, his hardness throbbing, already dripping with pre-cum as he too felt the need to feel you around him.

So, gently withdrawing his fingers, causing you to let out another soft moan, he then lined the tip of his length with your entrance. And with a determined and passionate push, he let himself enter you completely.

“Oh yes…” he moaned deeply as your tight walls wrapped around him, hugging him tightly. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

You could barely respond, only a mix of gasps and moans escaping your lips as he began to rock his hips, his length filling you up and hitting your sensitive spot repeatedly. 

It felt nothing but amazing as the two of you made passionate love, your bodies melting together in sync.

Joel picked up the pace, settling into a steady rhythm that felt natural yet dangerously arousing. The night became a blur of passion and sensation, as your bodies moved together in perfect harmony. 

Every touch brought you closer, the intensity of your connection growing with each passing moment. It was as if all the arguments, all the tension had been leading to this, a culmination of the unspoken feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface.

“Mmm…” you bit your lip as you felt the rush beginning to course through you, knowing that it wouldn’t be long if he kept up the speed. “Joel… I’m… I’m close.”

But your moans and words only spurred Joel on, as he felt his own climax approaching, making him unable to hold back. The feeling of you around him was simply incredible, and though he didn’t want the pleasure to end so soon, the urge for a release overcame him.

And when your nails dug deeper into his skin, your walls clenching around his sensitive member, neither of you could hold back your climaxes. Letting out louder moans, sounds of pleasure echoing through the room, you both gave into the intensity and pushed each other over the edge together.

“Fuck…” Joel grunted deeply as he released himself into you.

“Fuck indeed,” you breathed out panting for air, your eyes shut as you slowly came down from the high that had consumed your mind completely.

Joel lay still for a moment, allowing himself to relax while still inside you, feeling your muscles pulsating around him. It had been intense, yet nothing but pure pleasurable. And the smiles slowly creeping on your lips signalled the rush you were both feeling.

Then Joel gently withdrew, and when you finally lay together, tangled in each other’s arms, the world outside still and silent, you knew that everything had changed. Joel’s hand traced lazy circles on your arm, his breath warm against your skin.

“You know,” he murmured, a smile in his voice, “I think we make a pretty good team.”

You laughed softly, the sound filled with contentment. “Yeah, we do.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. There was a tenderness there, a promise of something more, something deeper than just a fleeting moment of passion.

And as you drifted off to sleep in Joel’s arms, you couldn’t help but feel that this was the beginning of something new—something better, something real.

[moon-boy0814]

Why Me!?

Summary: You go through the basic first school day of a high school senior at Phoenix Drop High

TW: Cursing

We made it to Mrs. Windale’s  with time to spare—barely. Thankfully, she was too overwhelmed by the swarm of freshmen firing off a hundred questions at once to notice our almost-botched mission. Her eyes were wide, her hair slightly frazzled, and she was holding a stack of papers like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to reality.

I slipped the papers onto her desk, offered a smile that said “I totally didn’t almost forget,” and turned to leave.

“(___), Lucien , wait—” she started.

But we were already halfway out the door. No way were we getting roped into playing tour guide for a bunch of confused freshmen. We’ve done our good deed for the day.

We made a beeline for homeroom, silently praying the havoc didn’t follow us there, and we made it with a few minutes to spare.The plan was simple: kill time with a few rounds of I Spy while waiting for the teacher to stroll in.

But just as I scanned the room, something—or rather someone—ruined the peaceful vibe immediately.

“I spy with my little eye… the pettiest bitch in the building.”

Lucien followed my gaze and groaned. “Gene’s in our homeroom?”

“The fact that you got it on the first try” I smirked.

Lucien muttered, “I mean… he wasn’t that bad.”

I shot him a look. “Lucien, if Aphmau had 99 problems, Gene made up at least 85% of them—and initially it was just because she didn’t want to be his friend.”

He snorted. “Okay, fair. Guy’s got main villain energy over the pettiest reasons. Where is he anyway?”

I turned around, finger halfway up to point—only to freeze.

Gene was staring right at us. Arms crossed, brow raised, smirk in full force.

Welp. So much for being subtle.

I gave Lucien a side-eye. “...I think we just summoned him like a demon but with trash talk instead of Latin.”

Lucien winced. “Yeah, that one’s on us. Speak of the devil and all that jazz”

Just as Gene pushed off the wall, clearly on his way over, the bell rang.

“Gene, the bell has rung. Please take your seat,” the teacher called from the doorway, tone clipped.

Gene glanced back at us, rolled his eyes, and turned to head to his desk.

I let out a quiet breath. “Saved by the bell.”

Lucien smirked, nudging me. “Winner takes it all.”

I didn’t really pay much attention to whatever the teacher was going on about. Honestly, it didn’t matter—not like the first-day homeroom lecture was going to teach me anything. I zoned out, let my thoughts drift, only checking back in just in time to hear the magic words:

“All right, everyone, you’re dismissed. Head to the gym for your club introductions.”

Finally.

Lucien and I didn’t waste a second—grabbing our bags and slipping out the door before the rest of the class.

“Hey, can you wait a sec? I need to hit the bathroom real quick.”

“Yeah, no problem. Just don’t take forever—I wanna get to the gym before it gets swarmed with freshmen.”

“Okie dokes!”

I stayed behind, leaning casually against one of the lockers just outside the classroom, scrolling through my phone. Or at least, I tried to—until a familiar voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

“So,” Gene drawls, strolling up with that signature smirk, “I heard you and pretty boy were talking about me. Wanna let me in on the secret?”

I tilt my head, matching his tone. “Not really. Your welcome to take a guess though.”

He chuckles. “Hmm… was it about how ridiculously cool and devilishly handsome I am?”

I smirk. “Totally. We just couldn’t decide if you were more charming or more delusional.”

“Ouch,” he grins, leaning in just a bit. “C’mon, you know I’m your type.”

“Oh, totally. Tall, smug, and in desperate need of being humbled? Practically my dream guy.”

He chuckles. “You could always try humbling me. Maybe over dinner?”

“Confident talk for someone who wouldn’t make it past the first bite.”

Gene raises a brow, his grin widening. “You flirt like it’s a sport.”

“And you chase like it’s a challenge,” I say, flashing a smirk.

“(___)! I’m back—we can head to the gym now, unless you were still talking,” Lucien calls out as he returns.

“Nah, I’m good. Conversation’s over,” I reply breezily.

I turn on my heel before Gene can say another word, sticking my tongue out at him. Childish? Maybe. Worth it? Yes.

“What was that all about?” Lucien asked, raising a brow. “You always hated Gene’s character.”

“I still do everything he does is just extremely petty,” I said with a shrug, “but messing with him is fun..’”

“Uh-huh,” he said, side-eyeing me. “Messing with him, or messing with him? ‘Cause from what I heard, that sounded a lot like flirting.”

“Yeah alright this convos done,” I walk ahead as Lucien laughs behind me.

The gym wasn’t far, and we made it just in time to witness Travis take a volleyball straight to the face.

SMACK.

“Damn,” I winced.

Lucien spun around, shoulders shaking with silent laughter as the sound of skin meeting ball echoed through the gym.

“Bwah!” Travis wheezed, collapsing to the floor in a heap.

Aphmau gasped, rushing to his side. “Travis! Are you okay?!”

Travis groaned, his face contorted in pain as he lay flat on the gym floor.

Katelyn, barely holding it together, couldn’t help but laugh. “Nice catch, dork! You caught the ball with your face!” She laughed uncontrollably, clearly enjoying the moment.

Aphmau frowned. “H-Hey! That’s not very nice!”

Katelyn waved her hand dismissively, still grinning. “Come on! You’ve got to admit, that was hilarious!”

Aphmau shook her head, concern creeping into her voice. “No, it wasn’t! Travis!”

Laurence, looking slightly exasperated, stepped in. “Katelyn, don’t tease the freshmen.”

Katelyn just shrugged, crossing her arms. “Hey, I’m teaching them tough love. No harm meant.”

Laurence gestured to Travis, still writhing on the floor. “Tell that to his face.”

Travis continued groaning in pain, not looking any better.

Laurence sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll go get the nurse…”

“While Laurence gets the nurse, I think we should help manage the chaos here,” I said, stepping forward.

Katelyn crossed her arms. “Oh, come on! It’s just a scratch!”

Garroth stepped in, voice firm but still kind. “Katelyn, seriously. Not everyone’s as tough as you.”

Aphmau let out a small squeal from the sidelines.

Katelyn rolled her eyes. “Well, if it isn’t the charming prince.”

I shot her a teasing grin. “Yeah, come on Katelyn even the strongest people know when to apologize.”

Lucien leaned in with that smug flick of his tail. “So… you gonna prove your strength, or should we just start shaking our heads now in disappointment?”

Katelyn rolled her eyes, lips twitching despite herself. “Ugh, you three are seriously annoying.”

“Love you too, Katelyn,” I said with a wink, earning a playful scoff.

Garroth raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a booth to run?”

Katelyn’s eyes widened. “Oh crud! That’s right!” She turned, pointing dramatically. “Hey! Little freshman!”

Aphmau blinked, startled. “M-me?”

“Yeah, you,” Katelyn said, grinning. “Sorry about your friend there. Swing by the volleyball club booth if you need someone cool to hang out with.”

Garroth smirked. “Ah… there’s the sweet Katelyn I know.”

“Shut up, pretty boy! Ugh. Oops—my girls need me. Later, losers!” she called over her shoulder, jogging off with her usual fire.

“Thanks for the help, you guys,” Garroth said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know she can be... a little stubborn sometimes.”

“No problem, Golden Boy,” I grinned. “Anyway, we should head to our booths. Have fun, Aph!”

“Yeah, have fun,” Lucien added with a soft smile. “And I hope your friend’s okay.”

Aphmau gave a small, sheepish laugh. “Thanks, you too—uh, not your friend! I meant… I hope you both have a good time, not that—ugh, you know what I mean!”

I laughed. “We get what you mean.”

With a two finger salute, Lucien and I turned and made our way down the rows of freshman—me toward the Witchcraft Club booth, and him toward the Music Clubs.

Bored can’t be the only word to describe how I feel right now. Sure, a few students stopped by the booth, and yeah, it was fun showing off a few simple tricks. Lucinda even managed to spook a kid with a tiny fire spell—which, honestly, was more hilarious than impressive—but I think it scared him more than it wowed him. Oops.

I leaned against the booth table, chin in hand. “Lucinda, what’s your next class after this?”

She didn’t even look up from organizing a stack of spell ingredients. “Potions II.”

“Lucky my next class is Advisory for Seniors. Don’t get any older Luci then you too will have to be forced into a senior project”

Lucinda laughs “yeah yeah i’ll be sure to enjoy my youth”

The bell rang, and I sighed.

“You two head to class. I’ve got permission for a free period so I can take down the stall,” the club president called out, already gathering the leftover supplies.

“So long, sweet freedom,” I muttered with a dramatic wave. “See you, Lucinda.”

“See you,” she replied with a grin.

Advisory was on the third floor, so it was a bit of a trek—but I made it just in time. Slipping into a seat near the back by the window, I let out a breath and rested my head on the desk, mentally clocking out before class even had the chance to start.

Just as I was starting to zone out, the classroom door opened once more an there he stood

Gene.

He strolled in not a care in world—hands in his pockets, a stupid smug expression permanently glued to his face. His eyes sweeping across the classroom… until they landed on me.

“Figures,” he said, sauntering over and dropping into the seat next to mine without even asking. “Of course I’d get stuck with you in advisory.”

I lifted my head just enough to arch a brow at him. “You say this as you sit next to me like there weren’t other chairs to sit in.”

He smirked, propping his feet up on the desk like he was settling in for a nap. “Don’t sound too excited.”

“I hope you fall.”

“Ouch,” he grinned, “Keep talking like that, and I might think you’re in love with me .”

I half laughed . “What type of relationships have you been in?.”

He leaned back further in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. “The interesting ones.”

“Interesting? That’s one word for toxic.”

He gave a low chuckle. “Come on, admit it. School just got a little more fun with me around.”

I gave him a look. “More like I just got assigned a full-time babysitting job.”

Gene smirked, leaning back in his seat. “Oh please soon enough you’ll realize how much you enjoy having me around.”

“I enjoy the idea of transferring seats.”

“Ouch.” He clutched his chest dramatically. “You wound me.”

Just then, the advisory teacher started his intro like we weren’t in the middle of a slow-motion disaster. “Good afternoon, class. I’m Mr. Cassian, your advisory teacher. Since today’s the first day, I’ll keep it simple.  I won’t get too heavy into detail all I can say is I hope you like your seat mate as for this years Senior project you’ll be partnered with them”

Mr. Cassian’s words echoed like a death sentence. “…you’ll be partnered with them.”

I blinked. “Huh?”

Gene let out a slow, evil grin. “Well, well, well… fate really does have a sense of humor.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, sitting up straight as if proximity alone might have me fail this class. “This is a nightmare. I’ve died once more. This is hell.”

“Aww come on, don’t be like that,” he drawled, smug as ever. “I’m a delightful partner. I bring charm, wit, and…” he waved a hand vaguely, “...devastatingly good looks.”

I scoffed. “You bring truancy and detention slips. Do not play with me.”

Gene grinned, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. “Sure, I bring that too, but you didn’t deny any of what I said.”

I made a disgusted face and rolled my eyes. “You’re something else.”

“If you even think of ghosting me on this project,” I warned, “I’ll find every bit of graffiti you’ve ever done and send it in with your college recommendation letters.”

Gene raised an eyebrow, unbothered. “You think I care about that?” He paused, then grinned wickedly. “Not to mention, I’m probably not even applying to college.”

I groaned and dragged my hands down my face. “Are you deadass? I’m living in a sitcom.”

He winked. “Starring yours truly.”

Mr. Cassian continued on, completely unfazed by the chaos. “Your first task will be to complete a shared goals worksheet. It’s due at the end of class tomorrow, and yes—you must work together.”

I shot Gene a flat look. “If I catch even a whiff of Axe body spray on that worksheet, I’m setting both you and it on fire.”

His grin widened. “Already planning our first fight? Wow, we’re really moving fast.”

I let out a dramatic groan and dropped my head onto the desk. “I hate it here.”

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

because i am sad, don't have my nina meds and have the personality of tissue paper rn, will you take pity on me, pretty girl, and pray tell what the locations look like in ur fics? like how you imagine south park looks, maybe stan and kyle's old bed rooms, the sp survivor haus? starks pond, the vibes and stuff -- you can be as hyper specific as you want i really like detail and visualizing things <3 also you

Melda Tâe I sincerely hope this is a bright spot in the Sadsack!!! This is such a great ask too like what does the HWB elven palace look like? The train station in WGSIES? The Broken Bottle Quartet apt complex? Heidi’s coffee shop in ATLCTS? The bistro where ojv Craig and Kyle have Nerd Boy Time? The TWITR bunkhouse?

And I’ve said on multiple occasions that I suck an unfathomable amount of ass at actually putting setting descriptions into my fics. Not because I’m picturing scenes playing out in a blank void, or bc I’m not picturing things clearly, but 1) I fully convince myself that no one wants to read my boring drawn out descriptions, which is stupid and I’m aware of that bc I LOVEEEEE vivid imagery when I’m reading 2) I often forget that no one is envisioning what I am without visual explanations lmfao it’s just so There to me I forget my readers don’t live in my cursed brain 3) I have such a habit of getting too into Witty Banter™️ and I’ll write so much dialogue with the occasional action and realize I haven’t said shit about what the setting looks like

But boy oh boy do I have specific pictures in mind! Especially regarding settings. (God I need to make a fuckin Pinterest omg the OJV board alone would go stupid)

I’m gonna be so fuckin fr right now, I have way too many AU’s and I will be unhinged abt a lot of them, so, below the cut!

So, as a surprise to absolutely no one, I’m starting with the OrangeJuiceVerse!

That bizarre town our kids grew up in is very typical suburbia, with neatly arranged near identical houses and blacktop roads that the snow plow goes through the same time every morning. Downtown holds the major businesses and across the tracks, not even a block over from the main neighborhoods, is the handful of “ghetto” houses, right by the woods. And through those woods, with a small single lane street that is far too narrow and winding to be safe? Stark’s Pond. The clearing in the tree canopy that the parking lot provides is the best stargazing spot, far enough away from the minimal light pollution that a tiny mountain town emits. It’s not just a pond, more of a park, with a field next to the water that’s a well traversed snowball fight battleground and a single bench under an ancient oak tree. The pond freezes and that’s how you know winter is truly underway. Kids slipping and sliding on the ice with no adult supervision is the standard here. In the summer, the water is still so cold, fed by mountain runoff. The surrounding shore is rocky and the m5 regularly compete to see who can find the coolest stone in the gravel.

There’s an elementary school, middle school, and high school, all in the same block and sharing a parking lot. Makes it easy for bus drivers and parents dropping off their kids. The high school is WAY bigger than is warranted for how small the town is, and there’s a separate building for band and av club. The football “stadium” isn’t much, the bleachers are only a few rows high and the field house is little more than a locker room, the concession stand is tiny and only run by student council members, and the cow painted into the turf over the 50 yrd line is lopsided. The gym where pep rallies and volleyball and basketball games are held has better seating, but football is a big damn deal in sp and the whole town is crowded around the track fence if they don’t get a seat, cheering on the hometown boys on cold October nights with nothing but fireball and ridiculous amounts of school spirit in their systems.

Stan and Kyle practically live at each others houses growing up. They each have a “Super Best Sleepover Drawer” in the others rooms and when they were younger and still the same size? No one could tell who actually owned what clothing. Like, y’all dear god you are more intertwined than your fingers holding hands. Stan’s room is a messsssss! Especially when he’s not doing well mentally. And he holds on to every stray item so his dusty shelves are cluttered as hell. His pillows are flat as shit. Nothing in his closet has been folded properly in years. The only organized thing in that room is the record collection, the sheet music folder, and the dnd character breakdown. Kyle has stress cleaned Stan’s room before. And (think You Belong With Me music video) THEIR WINDOWS FACE EACH OTHER!!! Kyle’s room has so much of the same kind of decor as Stan’s, with the posters and the figurines and the wall of nostalgic Polaroids, but he’s so much more organized. Both the boys have Kenny Paintings, (Stan is the one mentioned in this and Kyle’s is one of him as the elf king when they’d play as youngsters) and Kyle’s is hung level on the wall and Stan has his propped on his desk.

Ohhhh man the SP Survivor Safehouse, I described it some here and it really is such a College Kid House!!! They found the cheapest place to rent close to campus that would fit the 5, and it’s a SHITHOLE! It’s old as fuck and falling apart, the foundation is crooked, the blueprint must’ve been drawn by someone with severe distraction problems because for a place that’s not all that big, it’s labyrinthine in its random layout and the out of place way too high to reach ledges and the fireplace but no chimney and the ridiculousness of the narrow backyard, doing laundry in that house is a NIGHTMARE like the washer is downstairs and the dryer is in a separate room upstairs that logistically should be a bathroom. The kitchen tile is so old and cracked, and there’s this weird half wall facing the living room with a window? Also the walls are thin as hell and that staircase? Good god. Steep as fuck, tilted to the left, no railing, everyone has fallen on the Widowmakers multiple times. The garage door doesn’t work. The water heater is older than god. But this is their house, and they make it work.

I also want to describe the waterfall from How We Began, as specific and random as that is lmao. Think Multinoma Falls in Oregon, with a long trail to the top and no man made bridge over it. And it freezes like that one waterfall in narnia. Completely solid, snow and frosted trees on both sides at the summit, just the perfect place to meditate and reflect, because the reflection off the ice is like a rippled mirror. (Actually and so fr I need art of chapter 12 so bad rip) that place is BEAUTIFUL with the mountains in the background, the icicles refracting light, pine trees with needles dusted with snow, large rocks overlooking the edge of the cliff and the forest surrounding it!!!

Oh damn also the Big House in The Webs In The Rafters is the most eerie looking house of all time. At the end of that twisting gravel drive, to the left of the western pasture, sits this giant black mansion. It looks wayyyy too gothic to be on a ranch. And most of the rooms are unused, that place feels cold and dark even when the farmhands are in for dinner at that huge table in the dining room. The upstairs office has all these strange carvings in the wooden walls, Craig’s massive granite desk is right in front of the window that sees the whole front part of the land. And both that house and the bunkhouse are ancient as the “haven” itself. The walls have crawlspaces big enough for a full grown person to fit in. Like there’s a maze in the walls. The upper pasture isn’t visible from the master bedroom at the back of the top floor, and there’s a tree by the pond that Butters’ ducks live in that’s the first thing the morning light touches. That spot, where Ken and butters had their first kiss in chapter 16, is the only place that doesn’t feel stifling on the entire land.

Dude the haunted house in In The Truly Gruesome! It is legit the most cheesy haunted house of all time, set up in what is essentially a double wide trailer, no bathroom, no kitchen, barely a tiny breakroom at the back, the decor is the cheapest spirit Halloween shit imaginable and just lame shit like a bowl of peeled grapes that are supposed to feel like eyeballs in the mad scientist area. That front office with its plywood walls and plastic door is the most unromantic setting for a love confession, but Stan and Kyle made it work. The breakroom “furniture” is a random hodgepodge of booths from a closed McDonald’s and tables someone found on the side of the street. The mini fridge has nothing in there but a moldy jar of pizza sauce and a single half drank mellow yellow. This place is absurd. I love it.

AND I loved this ask! You always send me such great things my beloved omg never stop! <3

[purplelineexpress]

One of the reasons i was able to get into aew back in late fall 2020 is because of how much people talked about liking it there. I liked how dead kayfabe was, in the sense that we knew these people liked each other irl. I liked that people loved the locker room and enjoyed their coworkers and were working with people they’d known and loved for 15 years and they were finally getting their big breaks. Bte bits where they were clearly having fun. Stories that were high stakes in kayfabe and low stakes irl. Most of what I’d ever heard about wwe was about how terrible a person vince mcmahon is, and all kinds of stuff about the independent contractor situation, and generally had the vibe that it was a frustrating and soul-sucking and toxic place to work, and that aew was built by people who were very deliberately trying to build something that is not like that. I liked watching aew because it had all the on-screen drama of wrestling and very little of the backstage drama of wrestling. This? What we’ve got now? It’s not fun for me. I don’t know how long I’m willing to go along with this. Knowing they hate each other irl does not improve my experience of a kayfabe feud, it actually makes it far worse

[call-me-aesthetic]

If Twisted Wonderland was an American Public School

WARNING: There are some slight sensitive topics that are featured in here! Reader discretion is advised!

Part 2 can be found here

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts:

- That one preppy girl who takes all honors and AP classes 😑

- Wants everyone to know that he’s becoming a doctor one day for his strict parents or he’ll dishonor the family

- Reminds the teacher about homework, knowing well that he’ll get slander for it

- Complains about how he got a 90 on his test or a B on his report card, a try hard much?

- Wears a cardigan with thicc but cute glasses since he’s one of those people with can’t see shit on the board so he has to move to the front of the class

Ace Trappola:

- The SoundCloud rapper, that’s it

- “Wanna listen to my mixtape? It’s pretty fire, my guy.” 😩🔥

- You will not miss him BLASTING out some song on his Bluetooth speaker, that shit be echoing through the hallways

- Tells you to stop what you’re doing only for him to either sing horribly or do a backflip, thinking that he’s so cool

- Wears a Supreme jacket with AirPods and waves on his head

Deuce Spade:

- Assuming that he’s still a delinquent, he’s that kid with the most fucked up school record

- Not much of a bully but will still talk shit to your face without caring, might even throw stuff at you during a lesson and you would be the one getting in trouble instead of him 🗿

- If he ever gets mad, it would be overdramatic like kicking the desks, punching the lockers, or walking out of the classroom unannounced and everyone would look at each other wondering wtf happened

- Covers the entire desks with drawings of skulls and those “s” if you know what I mean

- Wears Champion hoodies, wants you to know that he’s broke and rich at the same time

Trey Clover:

- The guy that’s not really popular but everyone knows him since he’s in all their classes

- Most people might have a crush on him because he’s REALLY nice 😳👉👈

- Gives off “older brother” vibes based on the way he looks and acts, like offering you a ride home if you beg ask nicely

- Secretly bakes creme brulee but doesn’t want to mess with the flow so he sticks to the status quo

- Wears the school’s hoodie just because he thinks it looks good on him, and the fact that he doesn’t know what else to wear

Cater Diamond:

- Hot Cheetos girl 🥵

- Has a whole buffet of food in his backpack and will not hesitate to eat them during a lesson, no sharing either sorry

- Excuses himself to the bathroom or full on skips class just to film a Tiktok

- Has about 100 followers on Instagram Magicam and brags about how he’s famous

- Wears a Thrasher hoodie with large hoop earrings and his hair in a bun

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar:

- The kid who flunked their freshman year that also sort of vibes with new classmates

- Always gets mistaken as a teacher by people since he looks and sounds old

- Knows the lessons but still fails them anyways, didn’t really give a damn either 🙄

- Captain of every sports club you can think of, never actually plays but has a lot of knowledge on them

- Wears the school’s letterman from years ago since it used to be his brother’s and that he’s too lazy to buy a new one

Ruggie Bucchi:

- That one kid who NEVER has money for the book fair or any other school event

- Always has to ask his classmates for some cash

- If he somehow does, then he’s one of those kids who buys Diary of the Wimpy Kid or the World Record books

- If he’s feeling cheap, he’ll buy the “cool stuff” like the chocolate scented calculator or fruit snacks 😭

- Wears oversized hoodies and basketball shorts that are clearly hand-me-downs

Jack Howl:

- That one athletic kid who’s both scary good and competitive when it comes to school games like football or soccer

- Literally the best player on his team and without him, they’re trash as hell 💀

- Tries his absolute best to support his teammates without yelling at them for how dumb they are

- “KICK THE FUCKING BALL! DO YOUR LEGS EVEN WORK?!”

- Wears the school’s jersey just to show off his “school spirit”

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto:

- The kid who sell snacks for “charity” but everyone knows he’s keeping the money to himself

- If you don’t have cash or try to negotiate with him, the only thing he’ll do is raise the price up

- “What do you mean you don’t have ten bucks? I can see it in your pocket.”

- Just bring nothing with you, he’ll doing anything to steal your stuff 🤭

- Wears a collar shirt with a tie and khakis that have pockets to keep his glasses and money in

Jade Leech:

- The kid who puts on a goody two shoes facade but is actually a stoner

- Only does “safe” drugs like vape but occasionally smokes weed, mostly in the bathroom or behind the school 🌬

- Can play it off and hide the scent when he’s high, teachers never suspect anything from him

- No one really cares to stop him unless he gets caught or something idk

- Wears clothing that either makes him look like a businessman or a junky, there’s nothing in between

Floyd Leech:

- The kid that’s plays basketball or volleyball just because he’s hella tall, and is actually good at the sports but doesn’t put much effort into them

- Always stays behind after gym, even though the teacher tries to make him leave for his next class 😬

- “I swear after this one shot, I’ll go to class.” *He never made that shot*

- Will jump you no matter who or where you are, and will get angry if you step on his new shoes

- Wears the jersey of any famous team with the latest pair of Jordan sneakers

Scarabia

Kalim Al Asim:

- VSCO girl at best, don’t lie to me now 🤡

- The only words he knows are “And I oop– sksksk.” and “Save the turtles.”

- Walks during a track meet while everyone else is running and sweating hard, the teacher doesn’t care either

- Doesn’t really do anything in gym but talks to his classmates and stands near the water fountain to refill his Hydro flask

- Wears tie dye shirts with cute scrunchies

Jamil Viper:

- That one quiet kid who everybody thinks is a serial killer but he’s actually not, I swear

- He just wants school to be over and spend the rest of his summer relaxing 😔

- Although he shouldn’t abuse his “power,” he‘ll move his hands in his pockets or backpack to make it look like he’s about to pull a weapon out.

- “Chill, I’m just grabbing a pencil.” *Everyone in the class started crying*

- Wears dark colored hoodies that intimidates people but are actually comfy

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit:

- The baddie popular girl 😌💅✨

- Arrives to school late with a Starbucks in hand from his local Target

- Fixes himself every 5 seconds like reapplying his lipgloss or spraying Bath and Body Works cherry blossom perfume

- Uses acrylic nails and long hair extensions as weapons during a cat fight

- Wears a crop top with ripped jeans and those clout sunglasses

Rook Hunt:

- That creepy guy in the hallways who tries to get your attention, even if you don’t know him

- Scares people when he says, “Ayo, where my hug at?” 🥶💯

- Uses at least 10 cans of Axe body spray a week after gym class, which stinks up the locker rooms

- Waves at you if he passes your class, even walking into the room just to say hi

- Wears literally anything but always include a hat

Epel Felmier:

- The artist girl who just wants to be alone 🧑‍🎨

- Purposely draws in front of you but pretends like you’re not looking

- If you complement him, he’ll just brush it off and proceeds to diss himself

- “Thanks but I’m not THAT good at drawing, teehee.” *Insert Radio Rebel face*

- Wears a hoodie or a cardigan with big pockets to put his art supplies in

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud:

- I don’t even need to tell you who he is, y’all already know ahaha 🥴

- Sneaks a whole PlayStation in his backpack so he can play with it during lunch

- Is on his phone 24/7 even in class to the point where teachers don’t care anymore

- Tries to get people into anime but only to little success

- Wears a shirt of any anime character or that damn ahegao hoodie, girl bye

Ortho Shroud:

- The nerdy kid who’s known for destroying others at many games

- Plays classics like D&D, Yugioh, Pokémon, the whole shabang

- Daily Beyblade battles during recess with everyone surrounding him, the menacing aura radiates off of him

- Will steal your things if you lose to him but gives it back a week later cuz he’s sweet 🥰

- Wears light up Sketchers shoes and those Minecraft shirts you find at Old Navy

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia:

- The theatre kid who also goes to band practice, change my mind 👁👄👁

- Takes his role seriously when it comes to school plays and concerts, even if he gets casted as a damn tree or doesn’t go solo

- Remembers the songs and their lyrics to any musical you name, a really good singer at that too

- Plays almost every instrument, you definitely know this since you can hear him down the hallways during a test

- Wears a white button up shirt, black pants with fancy dress shoes, and top it all off with a fricking Rolex watch

Lilia Vanrouge:

- The weird guy who pranks people and vandalizes school property in every way possible

- If you ever get a textbook with a message that tells you to go to a certain page only for you to found a picture of a dick, yeah that was him 😒

- When using a Chromebook, he’ll leave a tab open on YouTube so when the next person uses it, pray that your ears will still work by tomorrow

- During lunch, he is a literal DEMON that mixes milk with chicken nuggets together and having the audacity to eat it too

- Wears an oversized raincoat or a windbreaker but idk wtf kind of things he has hiding underneath

Silver:

- That guy in class who consumes Monster energy drinks and falls asleep 99% of the time but somehow manages to pass the class 🤷

- Whenever he’s awake, he’ll talk to the teachers since he’s basically friends with them for some reason

- Writes his name out of boredom on any desk you sit on but in different places, sometimes around the corners or the sides

- Has a sixth sense because he’ll wake up if you try to draw on his face and if you did get something on him, it’s on sight

- Wears those colorful hoodies that zips all the way up to cover his face with a matching backpack, it’s pretty cool ngl

Sebek Zigvolt:

- That kid who literally knows everything about historical wars and will show it off during class

- Also has knowledge on weaponry, which has people questioning him but he’s just very dedicated on serving his country and people

- Knows how to fight and defend himself from a bitch since he spent his summer at a military boot camp, put respect on my man’s name 😤

- Honestly a great partner for a group project, actually does the given work but not the whole thing for you

- Wears anything that has camo pattern and chunky combat boots

I only made this because me and my friends were talking about our school memories so yeah. This is based from my experience so they might not be exactly accurate. Might even be a part two if you want.

[northsoulss]

questions - ɪ.ɴ

synopsis : while working hard at the cafe you worked at, that was also run by your closest friend, you enjoy life as a university student, all while trying to figure out your feelings for someone special. you’ve known jeongin since high school and you are absolutely certain your feelings for him have not changed since then. just friends, right?

genre : friends to lovers, fluff, reader works in a cafe, university au

pairing : i.n x fem!reader

warnings : slight overthinking, cursing

“thank you for choosing XXX cafe, have a nice day!” my voice was strained, making me sound like my vocals chords drowned in shredder.

it was a busy day as per usual, each table and seat filled up with our usual customers.

the homey vibes of our cafe was something that made it such a frequented place by many — dimmed yellow lights, light jazz music that played through the speakers and leather arm chairs with low tables that were ridiculously comfortable.

you name it, we have it.

such a quaint and calm atmosphere was hard to find here, especially in the city centre — the hub and essentially the beehive for those who crave ‘life’ and ‘fun’.

today was my turn to mend the counter, and thankfully, that was my last customer who ordered something off the slightly over-priced menu. cleaning some glassware to pass time, i handled each one gingerly, placing them on the rack above me that was hidden by the shelving when i was done.

“hey sunshine!" my boss's sing-song voice called out from the pantry, a slight hint of mischief in her voice. her voice pulled me out of my concentration, causing me to fumble with the delicate cup that i was holding, nearly dropping it to the floor.

"song! i nearly dropped the cup!" i groan, placing the final cup onto the rack. i turned around to face her, seeing that her head was sticking out from behind the glass door.

it was not an unusual sight to see. she had a shit-eating grin on her face, and i was not having it.

"what?" as my suspicion grew, i eyed the strangely happy glow that radiated off her face. noticing my irritation, she grinned even more, gesturing for me to follow her to the back.

reluctantly following her, we shuffled through the narrow walkway that had cabinets of spices, fruit extracts and powders, and various fridges lining the walls that i didn’t know we needed.

we stepped foot into the break room where a few of our fellow employees were lounging around. muttering a few ‘hey’s to the rest, we stopped at the lockers, where my locker was slightly open.

what the hell?

���why is my locker opened.?” i looked to song, earning a shrug from her in reply. i furrowed my brows, stepping closer to crack my locker open to realise that there is a note lying neatly amongst the piles of dirty and unwashed clothes that hung inside.

“open it,” song nudged me with her shoulder, “i wanna see too.” she said cheekily whilst peering over my shoulder to see what was inside.

“can you at least tell me why my locker is open first?” i deadpanned, turning around to rest my hands on my hips.

“weell,” she spoke, tapping her pointer against her chin softly, “to sum it up, i opened it because a cute guy came by and wanted to pass something to you.”

“so jeongin came by today?” i finally unravelled the big ol’ puzzle.

“so you find him cute?”

“what-”

“yeah, yeah, yeah. everyone here has known each other since high school. we all know you like him dude.” she says it as if its common knowledge for everyone to know.

“whatever..” i grumble, rolling my eyes at her joyous face that seemed to say ‘i proved you wrong again, didn’t i?’.

she elbows me in the rib, urging me to open my ‘oh-so-secret’ letter. i sigh, picking up the off-white envelope. tearing off the adhesive, i took out a sheet of jotter book paper that was folded in half. i wore an amused smile as i saw the jagged edges of the clearly torn out piece of paper. opening it, i read his message that was written in neat and precise letters, saying,

“sunshine, can we meet at the entrance of XXX beach when you’re done?”

my amusement faded quickly, my eyes re-reading the letter over and over. “soo, what does it say huh?” song pushed, teasingly poking my arm just to annoy me.

“he wants to meet me at the beach..” i was, well, confused to say the least. why would he make so much effort — walk all the way to the cafe(mind you it is at least 20 minutes away from where he lives), and suck up to song to let him into the lounge; all of this, just to slide a letter into my locker?

“maybe he wants to catch up with you?” she offered, her hand reaching to rest on my shoulder.

“unless he wants to finally confess his feelings for you?” song wiggled her eyebrows, causing heat to rush to my cheeks. i shook my head defiantly, eyes glaring at her.

if looks could kill, it would be quite convenient right now.

she chuckles at my flustered state, patting my head gently, which i immediately responded to by swatting her hand away. “what’s the deal with you two anyway? y’all have been acting like this since the start of junior year; all lovey-dovey and shit. genuinely makes me want to gag” i choose to ignore the last part of her sentence, my heart already beating faster than it previously was.

“i mean, there isn’t anything happening,” i mutter, and realise that what i said does not sound the slightest bit convincing when song gives me a knowing look. i want to say, “but it’s true! we’ve only ever hugged and that was in senior year on graduation day!” but that would just make it worse.

“with the rate you’re going at, i might actually think you’re excited to see him dude.” she lets out an exasperated sigh, as if this was a huge ass scooby-doo type mystery that she had to solve. she places her hands onto my shoulders, giving it a light squeeze.

“can i be honest?” i raised an eyebrow. “you can be dense as fuck.” she flashes me a grin, and i narrow my eyes, contemplating if i should give her a smack on the arm or not.

“i’m kidding, don’t kill me.” she says, laughing lightheartedly. “i swear he’s liked you for the longest time but you’re just too dumb to realise anything.” again, i chose to ignore her last sentence, not wanting to add fuel to growing fire that is both how red my face is and my feelings.

“look, i know the beach is quite far from here so i’ll give you a ride there after our shift — but only if you tell me the details later.” she ends off with a wink, walking off before i could say anything else.

╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯

standing back at the counter again, counting down each tick of the clock on my watch till it was time for closing, i fiddled with a coffee stirrer; heart still racing from the letter.

as much as i hate to admit it, song’s right. i’m not all too upset to see him again. it has been a while since we last met anyway.

it’s just reconnecting with a friend, right?

╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯

“c’mon, it’ll be fine.” song reassured me, her car turning into the roundabout that she was going to drop me off at. reaching over to hold my hand, song stopped the car midway, causing me to look at her.

“don’t overthink it, okay?” she says, squeezing my hands. i squeeze back, letting out a sharp exhale.

“okaay, we have reached the destination, m’lady.” song jokes in an effort to lighten the mood, steering the car to stop right at the curb a distance away from where jeongin stood, looking down at his phone.

winding down the windows before i could stop her, she yells, “oi jeongin! miss me?” he looks up, the alarmed look on his face quickly melting away.

“hey song, i’m so glad to see you.” he says sarcastically, doing ‘jazz hands’ to try and sell his outright lie.

“yeah, yeah. treat your date nicely, loverboy. don’t forget that i still know where you live.” she eyes him up and down, and then gives me a pat on the back as if she did not just threaten jeongin.

“have fun kids!” song practically screams in my ear, and if it was even possible, my face turned even redder than it was before.

“god, you are embarrassing.” stepping out of the car as quickly as i could manage, i tried to walk and casually as possible towards jeongin, his eyes curving up into a smile that i haven’t seen in what felt like ages.

clearing his throat, he gives me a small wave. leaning against the fence that closed off the plot of land that led to the beach, jeongin was dressed in his grey hoodie that he’s worn since the start of sophomore year, clad with a denim jacket around his shoulders.

ignoring the blooming warmth that spread across my cheeks and chest, i offered an awkward grin. “i want you to see something.” he says quickly, skipping through our usual ‘hello’s and meek glances, grabbing my wrist to pull me from where i stood.

when we got to the entrance of the beach, he was still holding onto my wrist, his fingers wrapped gently around it, engulfing my hand underneath his.

i don’t know why, but i immediately missed his warmth when he let go. shaking off the feeling, we continued to stroll to the beach whilst engaging in small talk, the smiles on our faces blooming like flowers in spring.

╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯

“it’s been, what.. 3 weeks? maybe 4?” my walk now mimicking his, my hands tucked snugly in my jacket pockets.

“since we last talked.?” he looked to me, noticing me nod. he paused for a while before humming, saying a small ‘yeah’ before looking back ahead.

“..how have you been, toast box?” i grinned, tossing in his nickname from high school.

“toast box?” his chuckles filled the air, the harmonious sound falling in crescendos. “geez, i haven’t heard that name in ages.” a slop sided smile appeared, his dimples showing on the left side of his face.

“well.. i think life has been like a piece of string cheese.”

“string cheese?” i question, although i already knew the answer from knowing him for so long.

“it has just been ‘so stringy and floppy’, you know?” i agreed silently, an unconscious smile creeping onto my face as i listened to him ramble, even though i did not understand half of what he said.

“..basically it’s just been crappy as a business major.” he deadpanned, his hands rubbing his forehead in exasperation.

“well, at least you’re on break now?”

“yeah, at least i’m on break now.”

╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯

we walked along the edge of the beach, our footsteps left engraved into the gravel and sand beneath our feet. the air was cool and salty, with occasional gusts of wind blowing at us, causing strands of my hair to get untangled from my ponytail.

“where are we going?" my heart rate was spiking upwards by the minute, each footstep and breath felt too heavy.

"you'll see.”

╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯

he stopped me at the corner of the beach that led to a lagoon, his hand reaching up to fix my hair. his cheeks and nose were rosy from the chill, his fingers carefully combing my hair back into place, adorning a soft smile.

my heart was already beating erratically like a teenager that has been lovestruck. to be honest, i felt pretty stupid getting worked up over him helping me with my hair.

to distract myself from my never ending thoughts, i fixated my eyes on the sight that was the lagoon instead, its waters shimmering and glistening under the now orange coloured sky. water lapped at our feet, the soft rippling sounds of the waves sweeping the shoreline filling the air.

it looked like a scene straight out of a movie. the sun was setting, with clouds that held pinky and orangey tones, lighting up the sky like a burst of fireworks. its colours floated on the lagoon surface, painting each small ripple with the same tinge as its backdrop.

“it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“yeah, it is..” i trailed off, turning to look at him. realising that he was already looking at me, i coughed, looking away quickly, feeling the tips of my ears burn. he looked away as well, rocking back and forth on his heels and tracing shapes into the sand with his shoes.

“come, let’s go sit down.” he pulls my wrist again towards a bench, the familiar weight of his hand back and resting comfortably against my own.

╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯

sitting down, we sat in comfortable silence, watching the sky grow darker. “sunshine, do you know the reasons why we look up at the sky?" his question was so random, catching me slightly off guard.

"are you seriously quoting one direction right now?" i inquired, “are we going to sing 'little things' now?" i said dryly, causing his lips to curl up into a shy grin.

"am genuinely asking," he laughs, tipping his head back; the sound filling the air, his eyes crinkling up into adorable crescent moons. my heart beat leap like an excited puppy, my hands that were resting behind my back felt heavier.

"well,” i really need to think this one through.

"i think it’s because we ask too many questions about what would happen next, so we look to the sky to see if it has the answers we want.”

what kind of answer is that?

"i have a question then," he replies instantly, "and i think you have the answer."

i cock my head sideways in confusion, the pace of my frail heart speeding up at the immense amount of uncertainty and hope that hung in the air after he asked the question.

"what is it?” i turn to look at him, feigning coolness but felt it quickly fading away when i saw his eyes glittering like the stars in the sky.

"how do you feel about me?”

well, that was certainly unexpected. (not)

╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯

"what?" confusion and anticipation flowed through me intensely, my mouth hung slightly open at jeongin's honest question.

question? more like confession.

"like, what do you feel towards me?" he fumbles on his words, his eyes not looking into mine.

“what’s the answer that you're looking for?" i push, inching towards him. a sudden boost confidence flooded my thoughts, overshadowing the fear and doubt that originally clouded my mind.

"don't know," he said softly, finally turning his body to face me, his eyes looking down towards his hands that were clenched in his lap.

"but maybe, just maybe, you'll feel the same way too.” he whispered to himself, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯

silence hung over us for a while.

he asked yet another question. this one was more confusing than the last.

“feel what?” i prodded, even though i was well aware of what was going to happen next.

“feel.. things..?”

“i..” he licked his lips, rubbing the back of his neck with hand. he laughed nervously, his knuckles turning a ghastly white.

“yes, jeongin?” i looked at him, his lips parted and eyes bright.

“don’t say my name like that..”

“like what.?”

“like you like me.”

╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯

my jaw slackened slightly, disbelief, excitement, relief and every other emotion that was humanely possible to feel shrouded my heart.

the urge to take his hand once more was so compelling.

should i?

fuck it.

i stuck out my hands, gesturing for him to give me his. he cautiously placed his hands into mine, my fingers wrapping around his this time.

i kissed his knuckles, one by one — feeling the softness and warmth that his skin radiated. his breath audibly hitched, his own expression matching my own previously.

“if my actions are not clear enough, i feel the same way.” pulling him down to my height, i kissed his forehead, feeling him scrunch his nose. as i pulled away, he had a goofy smile plastered on his face, causing a smile to creep onto my face that mimicked his.

“is that the answer you were looking for, loverboy?” i joked, still holding his hand in mine, feeling his thumb trace small circles onto the back of my hand.

“even better, sunshine.”

my masterlist!

© northsoulss 2022, all rights reserved

[wehaveagathering]

HAHAHA @em-ptynet i understand having a lot of thoughts 🫣🫣🫣 you just unknowingly incited an essay! and no im sure that coaches and management have far more than just a firm grasp on the locker room vibes. this post was just mostly brought on by a video of john tortorella essentially saying that upper mgmt cant “fall in love” with any player because they have to consider what’s best for the team in order to be as competitive as possible, and feeling bad about moving a player prevents you from objectively assessing a situation.

(which when you realize he DECLINED the dog mask after that one game that marked his .. 1500th win as an nhl coach?? .. it makes that decision make a lot more sense. if he allows himself to be friends with his players and partake in their rituals then it makes it harder to say “hey, sean, we’re trading you at the deadline to [x team], thanks for everything, leave now.” oh to be emotionally compromised by the loyal attack dogs of your billion-dollar professional league hockey team!)

i mean, people are indeed throwing around names like sean walker, nick seeler, even scott laughton to be traded at the deadline from the flyers. for high end talent, maybe, for the rebuild? to put us in better playoff contention? i’m not sure - torts and briere are playing the long game here, they’re not looking at this season as an end-all, be-all. but seels and laughts are like, again, documented cornerstones of the flyers locker room. and this year this team is literally winning because of friendship - which is fucking wild to me - but we KNOW that torts is planning on selling at the deadline. the question is is his assessment of the locker room right? is there a connection in the locker room, one pivotal piece or lynchpin that no one knows of, which, if removed, will send the vibes into a tailspin?

i mean, clearly the ducks management considered the locker room vibes to be a lower priority, considering the decision they made. maybe they were right, and maybe in a few years the anaheim ducks are gonna be overpowered and fucking loaded with talent and steamrolling over the western conference. but right now, the ducks aren’t winning games because of locker room vibes. the flyers are. which means that torts has to consider the friendships in the locker room as a much higher priority than he might have expected at the beginning of this rebuild. and that’s a strikingly delicate balance! i can cite you multiple articles on my blog that mention names and assert unquestionably that if particular players were moved, the team would have a problem - not necessarily on the ice, but culturally, as a team.

tldr john tortorella im in your walls do not trade my faves

thinking about the trade deadline. how do you know that the whole good vibe of the team does not precipitously hinge on the stalwart Presence of One Dude. like nobody may know until things change and then it'll all be Fucked Up. like what if the fourth line winger is actually the main character and then they move him at the deadline and everything falls apart because no one realized how lost they would be without him. what then. get him back??? you can't do that! you just fucked with the vibes!

[jamespotter1002]

Seijoh Manager HCs

Haikyuu x Reader (Gender Neutral but implied afab)

Rating: yellow apple (teen+)

Notes: Some swearing, proofread

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Every person on that team loves you, they couldn't ask for a better manager

I head cannon that the reason Seijoh doesn't have a manager is because anyone who applies is a fangirl

So it was probably a team member that introduced you to the coach and got you the spot

Look at you working wonders

Do you know how many times you've practically had to drag Oikawa out of there because he was overworking himself? No you don't because you lost count

Note taking? You've got it. You know what their strengths and weaknesses along with how to cheer them up and it's all written down (kinda getting Midoriya vibes but like not)

Fangirls love saying you joined for Oikawa and you're like, "kindly, stfu."

We love a passive aggressive badass

Knows how to get them hyped up for a game

Unless it's Kyotani, you haven't been able to get a good read on psycho-analyse him yet

Not that you don't try, he's just got a lot of walls of anger to get through

They win a game? You dead ass jump up from the bench because you're happy

They lose a game? Well shit.

Here's a short scenario that takes place after the game they lost to Karasuno

The ball bounced off Oikawa's arm, everything was silent for a moment. Then Karasuno cheered, Seijoh having lost the game. Your team lined up to shake hands with the winners, then they went and thanked the people who came to support us, about half the team was crying and the other half of the team was holding back tears. The team dispersed and quickly headed either to the bathroom or locker room. There was was no way in hell you were going to let their self-destructive asses go and, well, self-destruct.

So you went after the most self-destructive person first, Oikawa. Immediately, you hurried to go find him.

"Where would he be, where would he be?" You questioned. Not outside, too many people, that leaves locker room, bathroom, wandering the halls. 2/3 of the places you weren't allowed to enter. Halls first it is.

Immediately you went through the halls. Every. Single. One. Nowhere to be seen. Heaving and out of breath, you made the decision to fuck the rules, you do what it takes for this team.

Locker room first, that was less weird. You speed walked there because after that hallway adventure there was no running in you're near future. You got some odd stares from other teams in the halls but whatever.

You made it to the locker room. If he wasn't in here, it was going to be really awkward, you silently prayed that he, and only he, was in there. You walked into an expected image, Oikawa, crying on one of the benches in the locker room.

"Hey, I came here to check on you. Are you okay?" You asked. He started to wipe his tears.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he murmured. You could barely hear him, he was clearly not okay.

"I'm gonna have to disagree with you on that. You're not okay and you don't need to be."

"This was it. My last game. And I lost it to Tobio. TOBIO KAGEYAMA! I'm supposed to be better than him god damn it."

"You don't need to be the best to be great. About it being your last game, it's your last game in high school, yeah. But it is not the end of volleyball for you. You have college if you go and I have no doubt that if you wanted to you could make it to the national stage. It doesn't end here for you."

"Yeah you're right. It's stupid I'm crying any-"

You immediately cut him off, "It is not stupid that you're crying. You're feeling an emotion and expressing it with a healthy response. It is okay to cry. It is okay to feel. In fact, it's good that you're able to cry. Don't diminish what you're feeling."

"Thank you, for everything," he said somberly.

"Don't talk like we're dying. We've got full lives ahead of us. All of us."

"I should probably go round up the team."

"Oh shit! I still have to check on the other third years too!" I exited the room I wasn't supposed to be in the first place telling Oikawa I'll see him on the bus.

"Our manager, always going above and beyond."

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That turned out longer than I expected but I like it. Should I continue and write how your conversation with Iwa goes?

See pinned post for request rules if you want to request something.