#I know it's so lame I hate how it sounds and I hate me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

4unnyr0se · 3 months

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❥ apple cider | tobio kageyama

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

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 6.2k

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

❥ song: apple cider - beebadoobee

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You waved at Tobio, smiling softly.

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

“Do you two not get along well?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To what?”

“To get rid of the lining…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow, so smooth.”

“Shut the hell up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And how was I supposed to know that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God, yes,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you know what oral sex is?”

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

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

His nod was a bit too quick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#kageyama tobio #kageyama smut #kageyama x reader #kageyama x reader smut #karasuno #tobio kageyama

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oddinary4bts · 4 months

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Chasing Cars | ch 5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: mentions of throwing up/having a hangover, cursing, mentions of cheating for an exam, Sam Hwang (long, blond hair skz Hyunjin is who I had in mind for Sam), jealousy, alcohol, explicit content: mentions of jungkook fingering oc with his cum, of oc having sex with hobi

☆word count: 12.1k

☆a/n: the end of the power outage :') hope you guys love this one <3 thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, February 16th

It takes most of Saturday before the power comes back on. You’ve been anticipating the sun slipping under the horizon, wanting it to disappear so that you can go back to what it was like yesterday night. Because, when the sun rose this morning, Jungkook disentangled himself from you, and he hasn’t touched you since then.

Maybe because he too realized the enormity of what you did yesterday. But you’ve been expecting the sunset, hoping it would bring you back to what yesterday night was…

The lights in your apartment flicker to life as you sit on the couch, under your bed cover and Jungkook’s. You’ve been reading a book – he’s still on that same book you saw him read on Thursday – and you blink a few times as if not quite believing that the power is back.

That whatever happened between you and Jungkook will now have to be put in the past.

“Finally,” Jungkook says, and he turns his head towards you, as if expecting you to agree.

You don’t say anything, pursing your lips as your eyes dip down to your book, remaining stuck on a word that doesn’t make any sense to you.

If Jungkook senses your unease, he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he says, “Can I turn on the TV? I miss having some sound around here.”

So he’s not leaving. For some reason, you expected he would. It reassures you, and you offer him a smile.

“Sure,” you answer. “But don’t put on one of your lame anime.”

Jungkook’s mouth falls open, and he frowns in offence, fake or real. You can’t really tell, because it makes you laugh, and the moment you start laughing, the expression melts on Jungkook’s face, replaced by a softer look.

“Anime isn’t lame, I’ll have you know,” he says. “You just don’t know how to enjoy superior cinematography.”

You cock an eyebrow. “Oh, can’t I, now?”

He nods forcefully, and he grabs the remote control where it was abandoned on the coffee table. “I’ll show you an anime you’ll actually like.”

“Good luck,” you tease.

He throws you a no-bullshit look. “As if I need any luck.”

You hate that he was right. You hate that, a little under two hours later, you’re crying, trying to hide it from Jungkook. Though, when you glance towards him, you see fat tears rolling down his cheeks, and it makes you forget all about your own tears.

“Are you crying?” you ask, voice so surprised it startles even you.

“I can’t help it!” Jungkook lets out. “I love this movie.”

“Jeon Jungkook crying over some anime?” you tease, and you start laughing. “Why is that so adorable?”

Jungkook chuckles, drying his cheeks. “You think I’m adorable?”

The way he says it makes you flush red, and you quickly look away. “No. But crying over the movie Your Name is.”

“You just said that I’m adorable,” Jungkook singsongs.

You shake your head. “I did not.”

“You did.”

“You’re annoying.”

Jungkook bursts out laughing, and he gently pinches your cheek. You try to shrug him off, but when his fingers linger on your cheek, you turn to meet his gaze.

You don’t think you were ready for the seriousness of his features. Because it feels like you hit a wall of bricks, and your own smile slowly dies down.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, and you gulp around the sudden lump in your throat.

Jungkook frowns, and his hand falls on top of the blankets between you and him. “Nothing?”

He says it like a question, and it makes you worry at your bottom lip. You wait for him to say more, but his gaze slides away to the TV screen. An awkward silence rises between the two of you, and you think this is it.

This is where the little idyllic whatever-it-was ends.

“We can’t pretend we’re just doing this for warmth anymore,” Jungkook says matter-of-factly.

“Right,” you let out.

He nods once, and he flashes you a grin, though it’s lacking the authenticity of the smiles he’s shared with you since the start of the power outage. “So, let’s go back to normal now.”

He says it as if it’s the simplest thing in the universe, and it strikes deep. You wonder, were you the only one who felt like you did?

Did you imagine the whole thing?

You must have. Because a moment later Jungkook is getting up from the couch, claiming he wants to check if the gym has power as well and go work out if he can. You watch him go, dumbfounded, not knowing what to say.

Not wanting to admit that him leaving like that, him pretending that he doesn’t care, hurts. But then again, he’s Jeon Jungkook – why would he care?

When he comes back to the living room with his gym bag and phone in hand, Jungkook offers you a smile. It’s tentative, fake, and you wonder if he put a mask on.

Because this is not the man you’ve spent the last two days with.

“Gym has power, so I guess I’ll see you later,” he says.

You swallow the lump in your throat, nodding once. “Okay.”

He doesn’t say anything else, instead moving to the closet to grab his coat from it. He’s put his boots on by the time he glances towards you again, and he offers you a smirk. “Don’t miss me too much, peach.”

You want to punch him for that sentence alone. It feels like it means more. It feels like he’s telling you, ‘Yes, I put my mask back on. What will you do about it?’ And you know there is nothing you can do. He’s Taehyung’s best friend, and though you’ve enjoyed the days you’ve spent with him, they weren’t real life.

And though the wake-up call is unwanted, you think you badly needed it.

So you nod once, letting your lips grow into your own smirk, before you reply, “Don’t worry, there’s nothing to miss.”

You see it in his eyes. The temporary flash of hurt, or maybe insult. But he pushes it away, just as well as you, and just like that you know he wanted you to say something, wanted you to chase him. But you don’t chase men – the last time you did left you with a severe fear of running into a certain Sam Hwang. So you don’t do it anymore, and you think it’s more peaceful that way.

Because no matter how great hanging out with Jungkook was, you know it’s just a matter of time before Taehyung comes back and you have to return to your previous distant relationship.

Sunday, February 17th

“Bitch, you went full-on MIA,” Ria says. “You can’t tell me nothing happened.”

You’re in a study room at the library, and Ria has been bothering you ever since Jungkook showed up to his shift, nodding stiffly at the sight of you. You’d waved, and he’d smiled, but he’d then wandered off to do whatever it is that his job here implies.

Obviously, Ria noticed the exchange, and she really doesn’t want to let it go.

“Genuinely nothing did,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “He’s Tae’s best friend.”

“But he’s Jungkook,” she counters, sighing dreamily. “The rumours about him in bed…”

You flush red, and you throw an eraser at Ria, who starts cackling like she’s crazy. “Shut the fuck up,” you tell her.

“No but,” she insists. “You’re blushing. You cannot tell me nothing happened.”

“But I am,” you answer. “Drop it. I’m only blushing because you want to talk about his sex life rumours.”

“I hardly call it a rumour when Shelly’s been so vocal about it.”

It takes you a moment to connect the dots. A moment too long, but then you remember the texts Jungkook had received.

Shelly. The girl he ghosted on Valentine’s Day because he was with you. Because you ended up kissing him, straddling his lap on a kitchen chair, and he’d later fingered you with his cum.

You push the thought away. You push it so far away you wish you’d forget it, and then you reply, “Who’s Shelly?”

“She’s the two-doors-down dorm neighbour, remember?” Ria supplies. “The one we got shitfaced drunk with before Halloween last semester.”

You barely remember the girl. All that you can think about is her dark skin and the pretty almond eyes that had lured you to your demise. Indeed, you’d thrown up before you’d even reached the party, and to this day it’s still the worst hangover you’ve had in your whole life.

Because obviously, she provided you with plenty enough of shots at the party after that, too.

It’s strange. To realize that you know the girl Jungkook’s been fucking. Before he fucked you…

Another thought you push away. Because did he really? The distance that’s reappeared between you and him is a clear indication that you probably just dreamed up the whole thing.

“Don’t remind me of the Halloween party,” you whine, and Ria bursts out laughing.

“Not your proudest moment.”

You jokingly glare at her, and then you look down at your laptop again. “Where’s Nabi anyway?”

Ria laughs. It’s an innocent laugh, a laugh that means she’s up to no good. Your eyes immediately snap up to her face, and you lean towards her. “What?”

“Not telling you,” she says.

“No way.” When she remains silent but grins wildly, you add, “No fucking way! When?”

“Friday.”

You squeal, and even though you’re in a study room, you earn a disapproving look from the girl sitting at the table outside. You wince in apology, and then meet Ria’s gaze again.

“What did they do?”

“They went on a walk,” Ria admits.

You wonder if they saw you and Jungkook. Though you figured you would have heard about it if they did.

“And?”

Ria shrugs. “She told me she wanted to tell you herself.”

“Bruh.”

Ria laughs at your expense. “You should have just come yesterday, she would have told you everything. But no, you were too busy doing God knows what with Jungkook, but obviously nothing happened…”

Your eraser is gone when you reach for it to chuck it at Ria’s face. “Holy fuck, let it go,” you groan, but all she does is laugh.

Because if there is one thing that can describe Ria well, it’s her easy laugh. Indeed, you think that’s why you became so close to her so quick – she’s good at changing your mind, at making you smile. And though she definitely is able to have a serious conversation if needed, she’s also easy going, and it’s a relief to have a friend like that when your other closest friend is anxious as can be.

But you love Nabi to no end as well, needless to say.

“I’ll let it go if I can also find someone to fuck,” she says, sighing dramatically. “It’s unfair that you’re both getting some when the last time I did was in December.”

“I’m not getting some,” you grumble, resting your arms on the desk in front of your laptop so that you can hide your face in them.

“Hobi?” Ria lets out.

You’d forgotten all about Hoseok. It surprises you so much that you straighten, meeting her gaze. “Oh. Right.”

She snorts at your expression, before saying, “I tried hitting on Yoongi, but that guy’s colder than ice.”

“He is,” you agree, nodding your head. “But I’m sure he’s a good guy if you make it through all the ice.”

“Not my type,” Ria says. “I don’t want to have to chase.”

“Amen!”

On that note you both burst out laughing, before focusing on your studies again. You both have midterms next week, and though the power outage was a needed respite, you need to get your mind in the game again. At least both of your exams aren’t in your hardest class, especially considering Namjoon provided you and Nabi with a… rather well-guided study guide for the biochem midterm.

Not that you’ll look at it before you’re convinced you could ace the test anyway, if you have to be honest.

And so you study with Ria, the minutes ticking on the clock. Soon enough the minutes turn into an hour, and when Ria suggests taking a break to go grab something to eat, you immediately jump on the occasion, needing a break anyway.

You’re almost out of the library when you run into Jungkook, and Ria stifles a laugh next to you when Jungkook steps to the side, letting you pass. He frowns at the sound your friend makes, and you punch her in the shoulder, which only entices her further.

You roll your eyes, before meeting Jungkook’s gaze. “Ignore her.”

He nods. “Noted.”

And though you should walk away, you can’t bring yourself to take a single step forward. All you can do is hold his gaze, remembering his lips on yours and the way that he touched you like he knew the maze of your body by heart already.

Pink tints your cheeks, and you wish you’d find something to say. Unfortunately, all you can do is watch as a pretty girl, all lean limbs and flowing hair, stops next to him.

“Hey, JK, I need your help with something,” she says. She barely spares you a glance, and Jungkook nods your way, before turning towards her.

“What’s up?” he tells her, and then they’re walking away.

You’re out of the library when Ria hums, before snorting. “What was that?” she asks.

“What was what?” you counter back, even though you know exactly what she’s referring to.

The longing look exchanged between you and Jeon Jungkook was pretty noticeable, wasn’t it?

“With Jungkook?”

You sigh. “Honestly, nothing,” you answer, and it sounds so genuine you realize that maybe it truly was nothing. Maybe what happened meant nothing, and you need to let it go. “I guess we’re sort of friends now.”

“Sort of,” Ria repeats in a teasing tone.

“You really are a pain in the ass, aren’t you?”

She links arms with you. “And that’s why you love me.”

You begrudgingly agree, letting her lead you outside into the frigid air, towards the café on the other side of the street closest to the library building. She pulls you inside, and the warmth is a relief, as are the aromas of coffee and pastries swimming through the shop. You breathe in, and you follow her to the bar.

You think you almost drop dead when you see the barista on the other side, waiting for you two with a smile plastered on his face.

On those pretty lips you’d worshipped once, and that had turned to poison before you could realize it.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” Sam Hwang asks.

He freezes when his gaze connects with yours. Maybe he only noticed Ria – you wouldn’t be surprised, Ria is drop-dead gorgeous – but when Sam Hwang sees you, he physically blanches. You wonder what he’ll do or say, if you should turn around and leave, but then Ria orders a latté and a sandwich, and she turns towards you.

“What do you want, I’ll pay for you?”

You still haven’t looked away from Sam. You loved him, deeply. You believe some part of you will always love him. But he hadn’t wanted you. Had taken what he could and left, claiming that he wanted to be single to have the full college experience.

You think about the girl you saw him with at the party a few weeks ago. Is she his new girlfriend, or just someone to give him the full college experience he so desperately wanted?

You gulp, looking away from him. Your eyes fall to the vitrine on the counter where pastries and sandwiches are shown. You blank for a few seconds, and then you motion to an almond croissant.

“I’ll have this please,” you say.

Ria furrows her eyebrows, looking at you in confusion. “Anything to drink?”

“Just water.”

Her frown deepens, but she shrugs it off before turning to Sam. “That’ll be all.”

He nods, and he punches the order in on the cash register, making her pay before he starts getting everything ready. Ria pulls you to the side as he does so, and you avert your eyes from her, not wanting her to know.

You’ve never told them about Sam. You didn’t see how mentioning a seventeen-day long summer fling would amount to anything, so you just didn’t tell them. And maybe it’s dumb luck, but before this day you were never really faced with Sam. He’d always been easily avoidable, and so it really wasn’t necessary to tell your friends.

“What’s wrong?”

Ria’s question goes unanswered as you keep avoiding her gaze, looking towards the tables. You motion to one in the back, as far away from the counter as possible. “Do you want to sit there?”

Ria doesn’t even look that way. She grabs your wrist, gently, trying to gain your attention. “Girl, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie, and you offer her a tight-lipped smile that you know doesn’t meet your eyes.

No, your eyes are filled with memories of the past, of a summer that meant far too much and yet meant nothing, or at least you’ve been telling yourself that ever since you moved in with Taehyung and left your hometown behind.

You think it’s a sick and twisted trick of fate that Sam is going to the same college as you. But then again, you’re not surprised – it’s one of the best colleges in this part of the country.

“Bitch,” Ria lets out, but then Sam calls her to say the order is ready. She frowns, before telling you to go get the table.

You do, mostly because you can feel Sam’s gaze on you, and you really don’t want to have to interact with him anymore. So you head to the table, and you sit with your back to the rest of the café even though you usually prefer sitting in a position that allows you to see the whole place.

Ria is quick to meet you at the table, and she puts down the tray of food in front of you, before plopping down in the chair across the table from you. You watch as she rids herself of her coat, and you mirror her, draping yours over the back of your chair, avoiding glancing towards the bar.

“Who’s that?” Ria asks once you’re facing her again.

You watch as she grabs the plate with her sandwich and her latté before pushing the tray towards you. You busy yourself with biting in your croissant, but soon enough you know you’ll have to answer.

You just don’t want to revisit your story with Sam. Maybe because it was so short, yet hurt so fiercely you decided to forgo relationships for a good while.

“Just someone from my hometown,” you tell her.

She cocks an eyebrow. “And?”

“There’s no and.”

You say it sternly, authoritatively, with not a single ounce of teasing. It makes Ria’s eyes widen, and she glances towards Sam. She doesn’t say anything for a while, taking a sip from her latté before she looks at you again.

“I’m assuming we hate him.”

You sigh, looking down at the croissant in your hands, before sliding your gaze to the cold world outside. “Honestly, not really. We just don’t speak of him.”

“Yeah, that’s it, I hate this dude.”

It makes you snort, and you slightly shake your head. “You know I love you, right?”

“Don’t get sentimental, ew,” Ria teases, though she smiles a wicked smile when you roll your eyes at her. “I love you too.”

After that, you carefully drive Ria away from the subject as you eat, and by the time you’re returning to the library, this time with the goal of meeting up with Hoseok and Yoongi, Ria seems to have forgotten all about it. Or she’s just being a good friend, not pressing you on a subject she can sense is sensitive.

You reckon it’s stupid that it is, but you can’t really control your feelings, can you?

You walk in the library, eyes skimming over the place. Yoongi and Hoseok claimed to be in a study room, yet your eyes don’t go towards them, instead turning towards the counter where you can rent books. Jungkook is sitting there, looking bored as all hell, scrolling through his phone mindlessly.

As if he can sense you, he raises his head, and his lips spread in a small smile even in the distance. You reciprocate it, and thoughts of Sam slowly dwindle away as his smile broadens, and he waves at you. You’re about to wave back, stifling a laugh, when Jungkook’s smile dies, and even in the distance you can see him clenching his jaw.

You only understand why when Hoseok stops next to you, draping his arm over your shoulder.

“Hey girls,” he says, and he pulls you in a little closer.

You don’t look away from Jungkook as you give Hoseok a half-assed hug, before stepping away from him. Yet Jungkook doesn’t seem relieved, doesn’t seem happy…

Does he care?

You’d ask him. You would ask him what he thought about the last few days, but then again you reckon you shouldn’t. Because he’s your brother’s best friend, but also because he’s your roommate. You can’t afford things growing awkward between you and him, not when you don’t feel like moving to the dorms.

You’d rather keep your apartment, thank you very much.

Hoseok explains that he was on his way back to the study room from filling his water bottle, and Ria and he fall into conversation as he leads you two to where Yoongi is already sitting. Yoongi offers you a curt nod, but he doesn’t smile or say anything, going right back to what he was doing.

He’s got headphones on, and you assume he’s mixing something for a production class from the sight of the screen of his laptop. You end up sitting next to him, as Ria claims the spot next to Hoseok, which you don’t mind all that much.

You think you’ve had enough of men for today, even though Hoseok didn’t do anything wrong.

So studying it is.

*****

It’s late when you finally decide to head home, figuring you’re done cramming information for your midterm. You’re starting to get a headache, so you decline your friends’ invitation to grab a drink before heading home, and you make your way home alone, hands hidden deep in the pockets of your coat, searching for a small hint of warmth.

Needless to say, they don’t find any, and you get home feeling like you’ve turned into an icicle. To your surprise, Jungkook is sitting on the couch when you get there, and from the shoes by the door, you understand that Jimin is here too.

You didn’t even notice Jungkook leaving the library. But then again, his shift probably ended a few hours ago, so it makes sense that he came home.

Are you a little disappointed that he didn’t even tell you? Maybe. Do you feel foolish for it?

Definitely.

“Done studying?” Jungkook asks, and he takes a sip from a beer.

You nod, shrugging your shoulders. “I can’t retain any more information,” you joke half-heartedly. “My head feels like it’s going to explode.”

Jungkook smirks. He fucking smirks, and you want to punch him, yet you stay rooted to your spot. Even more so as he says, “Maybe I could help you with that.”

He’s a mystery. A real fucking mystery, and it’s driving you crazy. You glance towards the bathroom door, but you know the walls are too thin. You know you can’t admit that yes, Jungkook could help.

So you reply, “You wish, JK.”

He pulls at his piercing, his eyes trailing to the bathroom door, before nodding once, as if understanding that you can’t say more because Jimin is here.

“Want a beer?” he suggests.

And though you said no to your friends, though you should say no to Jungkook, the way his big doe eyes hold yours make you fold, and you nod your head. Jungkook smiles, and you think you see a hint of what you saw during the power outage, but it disappears like it was never there when Jimin opens the bathroom door.

“Hey, Y/n!” he greets you.

You begrudgingly look away from Jungkook. “Sup, Jimin.”

He motions towards the living room, and your eyes trail back to Jungkook. “Want to chill with us?”

“Just a beer,” you answer, and Jimin smiles brightly.

“Well then get out of your coat and go sit, I was heading to the kitchen already.”

You thank him, and you do as he says, shrugging off your coat and kicking off your boots. You hang your coat in the closet before walking to the living room. Jungkook is sitting in the middle of the couch, and you sit on his left, as far away as you possibly can.

If he notices he doesn’t say, instead motioning to the neatly folded blanket on the coffee table that he’s undoubtedly brought from his room.

“Feel free to grab this if you get cold,” he tells you, offering you a smile.

You see the glint in his eyes. Not quite mischief, but recognition. Like he knows what the last days were, like maybe he did feel something as well. You gulp, unable to hold the weight of it, and your eyes drop to your lap.

“We should talk about…” you whisper, not finishing the sentence in fear of Jimin hearing.

Maybe it was the wrong thing to say. Because you feel Jungkook tense next to you, and you know his big eyes have probably narrowed as he frowns from your words.

“What about it?” he asks, not bothering to lower his voice.

You shoot him a warning glance, and his lips tilt in a lazy smirk. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else, though you don’t have time to say something either as Jimin comes back from the kitchen, with a beer for you and one for himself in hand.

He gives you yours before sitting back next to Jungkook, and you find yourself watching an episode of an anime you don’t know, sipping on your beer, trying to pretend that you didn’t notice Jungkook shifting a little closer.

That you don’t notice how he pressed his thigh against yours, not once looking at you. It makes you feel far too warm, but you know it’s too late now for you to claim you’d rather head to bed than drink your beer. So you suffer through the episode, even as Jungkook slowly leans into you.

Jimin will notice. It’s all you can think of. When you’ve finally had enough and you scooch away from Jungkook, he throws you a confused look.

You just glare at him, and then resume your attention on the TV. It goes like that for the whole episode, and you’ve never been as thankful as you are right now about the fact that anime episodes are so short. Because as soon as the episode ends, Jungkook straightens, acting as if he wasn’t half sprawled on you.

Jimin doesn’t comment on it. But you know from his momentary slight frown that he noticed, and you can only hope it won’t reach Taehyung’s ears.

You’re as good as dead if it does.

“Well,” Jimin says, glancing at his phone. “I’ll need to go, Sera is waiting for me.”

“Sounds good,” Jungkook says. “Thanks for coming.”

You wave Jimin goodbye as he gets up from the couch, taking a sip of your half-empty beer. Jungkook walks him to the door, and when Jimin finally leaves, Jungkook turns around to look at you, leaning back against the door.

“So you wanted to talk?” he says, cocking his head to the side.

Your throat feels dry, so you take another sip of beer before nodding once. “Yeah.”

“I’m listening.”

You wonder if he’s told that to a lot of girls in the past. Jungkook is the type to run at the first sign of emotion from a girl. You know it, you’ve seen the results on campus. But he can’t really run from you when you share an apartment, can he?

“What should we do about Taehyung?” you ask, pulling at some dry skin on your bottom lip.

The space between you and Jungkook fills with something you’re not quite sure you like. It’s cold, bitter, and it tastes awfully like regret. Especially as Jungkook answers, “Nothing. We just pretend nothing happened, no?”

For that is the logical solution – you know it just as well as he, but for some reason, you don’t like it. Don’t like the way your heart clenches in your chest at the thought.

“Is that what you want?” you ask him.

He slides his hands in the pocket of his pants, shrugging. “Yeah. I don’t see why it would need to be a big deal.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you say. “I’m not trying to make it into a big deal.”

He lazily smirks. “Right.”

You shut your eyes in annoyance, slightly shaking your head. “No, for real,” you insist. “If you want us to just pretend that nothing happened, then we do that.”

“You awfully sound like that’s not what you want.”

His tone has changed. It’s not playful anymore. It’s serious and you wonder, is that how Jungkook ends things with the girls he fucks? Pretending like he doesn’t care, like you’re just another name to add to the long list?

“I just don’t want things to get weird,” you choose to reply, though your first instinct is to agree with his statement. “Since we live together.”

“Don’t worry about it, peach,” Jungkook says, and he sounds more like his usual self now. “I won’t make things weird.”

You nod, meeting his gaze again. There’s a moment where it feels like the distance between you and him dwindled to nothing, like you’re about to fall into his big doe eyes. You think you spy sadness in those eyes, emotions hidden beneath a thick wall, but he blinks and it’s gone, and you’re back on the couch in a reality you’re not sure you like.

The distance feels grander somehow. Like, maybe the couch moved back. Like a crevice was formed, and you don’t know how to cross the distance anymore. But it’s safer here, safer not to admit to Jungkook that being with him made you feel something. Not only because of Taehyung, but because of Sam Hwang, and of your life before, and of all the little fucked up things in your head that make it so you just aren’t the type of person to date to begin with.

You’re not delusional enough to think Jungkook would want to date you anyway. You were just the forbidden prize, and now that Jungkook has had you, you’re pretty sure he’s just going to move on to the next.

The thought hurts, and you wonder if he sees it in your eyes. Because he’s still there by the door, carefully watching you as if his gaze can convey what words can’t.

But life doesn’t work that way, does it?

You blink, sliding your eyes away from him and down to the beer in your hands, and you take a long sip, letting the bitter taste chase away the aftertaste of the conversation. It doesn’t really do anything, but Jungkook decides to leave, wishing you good night with a half-smile over his shoulder.

When he’s disappeared into his room, you let out a long sigh, trying hard not to reminisce the blackout, and the moments you’d spent in his arms.

Yet that night, when sleep evades you, you think about that first kiss. About the weight of the emotions, about the way he’d held you. And you feel like, maybe he blindsided you all along.

Maybe you were stupid to think Jeon Jungkook had a heart.

Friday, February 22nd

The bar is filled to the brim with drunk party-goers, and the music is loud enough you can’t hear your thoughts anymore.

“This is a frat party,” you state as Ria grins and nods her head to the beat.

She shrugs. “Who cares, you love frat parties.”

You chuckle, and your eyes slide to Nabi. “Are you sure you want to stay here?”

“Namjoon said they’re in the back,” Nabi replies, but you can tell she looks uncomfortable with the amount of people present. “I’ll tell him to come get us.”

You watch her as she types away on her phone, glancing towards Ria.

“What’s the plan tonight, baby?” she says mischievously when your gaze connects. “Hobi, or do you want someone else?”

Ever since Ria’s learned about Sam, she’s been pushing you towards Hoseok even more. Maybe because she wants you to forget, or maybe because she thinks Hoseok is what you want. And though sex is always good with him, you haven’t reached out since the power outage and the evening of studying you’d spent at the library with him and Yoongi.

He hasn’t reached out either, so you figure it’s all good.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “I’ll see where the night goes.”

Ria nods. “I desperately want to get fucked tonight.”

Nabi surprises you by bursting out laughing. “Saw Jeon Jungkook get in before we did, just go to him.”

You keep your features cool and composed as your gaze slides to Nabi, before going back to Ria. Ria watched the whole thing carefully, yet when you don’t say anything, she replies, “Honestly, I might. Shelly said he’s free to hit on now.”

Because of course Shelly had called dibs on Jungkook. Not that you knew, and not that you cared. You’ve never considered her a friend to begin with, and you’d be lying if you aren’t a little happy that Jungkook decided to stop seeing her after he had sex with you.

Even if you’re pretending nothing ever happened. And he’s good at that – barely even speaking to you except for the formalities, though he did tease you once about looking tired.

You clench your jaw as the memory fills your mind, and you believe you can hear him say, ‘Need help with that’ all over again. Which, you reckon, you might. Because every night, like clockwork, Jungkook invades your thoughts, and you’re forced to relive the moments he’d breathed against your skin, fucking you like he had all the time in the world.

Maybe then he did. Maybe he even believed it, though he’s been good at pretending he didn’t. So have you. Or at least you hope so.

“Then my plan is to fuck him tonight,” Ria declares solemnly. “I want to know what all those girls are on about.”

You know. You know exactly what they’re on about, yet the jealousy feels like it’s searing through you as you do catch sight of Jungkook when you look away from your friends.

He’s looking this way. He’s leaning against the bar, a pretty long-haired girl next to him. His arm is behind her, and she’s tucked into his side, saying something you’re pretty sure he’s not listening to. Indeed, he doesn’t blink, doesn’t look away, his eyes burning on you. So you make a show of eyeing him up and down before looking away.

Do you feel a certain sort of satisfaction when you notice Hoseok heading this way, which means Jungkook will see you with him? Maybe.

But you’d never admit that in a million years.

“Hey,” Hoseok says, leaning against you.

He reeks of alcohol, and you reckon you probably won’t have sex with him tonight. But when he goes in and presses a drunken kiss to your temple, you let him do it, eyes sliding back towards Jungkook.

Even in the distance you see how Jungkook clenches his jaw. He’s quick to compose himself though, features relaxing as he turns to the side, facing the pretty girl. She beams at his attention, and your nails dig into your palms as he pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek.

Ria and Nabi hug Hoseok in turn, and they both earn the same kiss you did. It makes you laugh, though Jungkook doesn’t see that, his attention fully on the girl. Hoseok tells you all to follow him, and then he leads you to the back of the bar, where you find Yoongi, Namjoon and Seokjin. Namjoon’s gaze immediately connects with Nabi’s, and he mouths an apology as he motions to his current position as an explanation as to why he couldn’t go get you and your friends by the door.

He’s stuck next to Yoongi, and you highly doubt Yoongi wanted to get up. Yet, you feel like you are intruding on the mute conversation between Nabi and Namjoon, so you look away, your eyes landing on Seokjin.

Seokjin is attractive. Handsome, in a simple, elegant way that only people born into money have. When he smiles at you, nodding his head once, you echo the gesture, though you let Ria slide into the booth so that she can sit next to him.

Because if there’s one thing that you know, it’s that Seokjin is right up her alley. And if that means she won’t go for Jungkook…

You don’t explore that thought further, instead sitting next to her. Yoongi begrudgingly gets up to let Nabi sit next to Namjoon, and Hoseok goes to the table next to yours to ask if he can borrow a chair. He comes back with one, sitting at the head of the table.

Conversation slowly starts around you, Seokjin and Ria speaking with Namjoon in front of them. Nabi is silent, but she listens intently. You can’t bring yourself to join in, instead meeting Hoseok’s gaze and smiling secretively.

His eyes dip to your lips, though they do not darken the way that they usually do, probably from the alcohol in his system.

“How were midterms?” he asks, with that same slightly slurred speech he sported earlier.

“It was chill, but I’m glad they’re over now. You?”

He chuckles. “Got fucked in a couple of them, but I honestly don’t give a fuck.”

You snort, and before you can say anything, Yoongi chimes in, “Is that why I found you crying the other day?”

Hoseok turns a colour of red so deep you think it’d put a tomato to shame. “I did not!”

Yoongi snickers. “Right.” His eyes slide to you, and you think it’s the first time he’s ever regarded you with something other than animosity. Indeed, he’s got a playful light to his eyes, and you reckon he looks good like this.

You can understand why Ria tried to hit on him.

“He totally did,” Yoongi says, and then he lets out a small, pained sound from the kick Hoseok undoubtedly landed on his leg.

“I hate you, man.”

Yoongi winks, and you burst out laughing, slightly shaking your head. “Honestly, Hoba,” you say once your laugh has dimmed, “there’s nothing embarrassing about crying over your grades. I did it all the time when I was younger.”

“I wasn’t crying!” Hoseok insists.

You and Yoongi exchange a glance, before bursting out laughing again. Hoseok pouts, a frown clinging to his features. Though you don’t really feel bad, you still brush his thigh under the table, and he goes wholly still, his frown melting away.

“Anyway,” he says, clearing his throat. “You want anything to drink?”

You do. You’re thirsty for something to smooth the stress of midterms and Jeon Jungkook away. So you nod, smiling wickedly.

“Lead the way.”

Hoseok chuckles, and you end up taking everyone’s order before getting up to head to the bar behind Hoseok and Yoongi. You’re squeezed behind Yoongi, Hoseok on the other side of him, as you wait at the bar a few minutes later, eyes skimming over the array of alcohol on the wall. You’re planning to order a pitcher of sangria for you and the girls, and Yoongi and Hoseok are taking care of two pitchers of beer. They’re deep in conversation, and you just stand behind them awkwardly, unable to hear them over the sound of the music.

You don’t mind. You focus on your phone, trying to see if Taehyung has replied to the message you sent him earlier. It was late for him in Paris, so you’re not surprised to find he hasn’t, the message only showing delivered. You turn off your phone and slide it back in your purse, before stepping closer to the bar as Hoseok and Yoongi get what they ordered.

“Do you want us to wait for you?” Yoongi asks, taking you by surprise.

Since when is Yoongi friendly with you?

“No,” you answer, eyes darting to Hoseok who’s just smiling with his cheeks flushed red. “All good, I’ll meet you guys back at the table.”

They nod, and you slip past them to lean against the counter, trying to get the barman’s attention. He’s currently on the other side, serving a suspiciously familiar tattooed hand, and you feel like rolling your eyes as you realize Jungkook is clearly buying a drink for the pretty girl at his side.

You forget all about Jeon Jungkook when a certain Sam Hwang slides into your vision, leaning against the counter right in front of you.

You startle. Eyes going wide like a deer in headlights, heart rate picking up to an uncomfortable level. You don’t like that he still has a physical effect on you, and it only increases tenfold when he breaks into an easy smile.

“Y/n!” he says, as if there aren’t months between you, as if on that dreadful day in August, he didn’t just leave. “I thought it was you.”

You freeze. You don’t know what to reply, only look at him as if he’s a jack in the box that’s just exploded in your face. He takes it in stride, chuckling lightly in that gentle way of his that used to make you go crazy.

“How have you been?” he asks, features falling a little more serious, brows slightly scrunched as if your answer will be the most important thing he’ll hear all night.

“Why are you talking to me?” you blurt out, and he slightly widens his eyes as if in surprise.

“Should I not?” he replies, easily tilting his head to the side in that nonchalant way of his. His blond hair falls like a cascade, and you can’t help but averting your gaze to it.

“You don’t wear your hair in a ponytail anymore?”

You want to curse yourself for the stupidity of your question, but Sam’s always been nonchalant. Someone that goes with the flow, that likes the weird things in life. You think maybe that’s why he had been interested in you back then.

Until he wasn’t.

“No, ponytails are cold in the winter,” he jokes.

You can barely smile in answer. You wish you hadn’t told Yoongi and Hoseok to go back to the table, and you glance over your shoulder, hoping that they’d sense your unease and come back. They’re nowhere to be seen though, hidden by the crowd populating the bar.

“Are they?” you say, not a single ounce of joy in your tone.

Sam nods. “Yeah. But enough about that. How are you?”

“I’m okay,” you lie, because frankly standing in front of him like this is making you feel anything but okay. You don’t want him to know though, so you try to plaster an indifferent mask to your features.

You highly doubt it works. Because it never works with Sam Hwang.

“I’m glad,” he replies, smiling softly. He turns his head to the side, and you only then notice the barman has stopped next to you. “I’ll have a rum and coke and she’ll take…” he trails off as he looks at you. “A Soho cocktail?”

You blink once, not really believing that he remembers. That though you lasted all of seventeen days, he still remembers your favourite cocktail.

Needless to say, you haven’t drank any since he walked away that night.

“A pitcher of red sangria and three glasses,” you say, looking at the barman. “Please.”

The barman nods once, and then busies himself with making the cocktails. You try your best not to look at Sam, but his piercing gaze lingers on you, and you can’t help but glance his way.

“You don’t drink Soho anymore?”

“This is not a Japanese inspired bar,” you say, trying to avoid the truth. “Highly doubt he’d know how to make a good cocktail with it.”

You know Sam can tell you’re lying, but he shrugs it off. “Oh well. How’s the bio major going?”

You purse your lips, gulping once. Because why does he remember so much? He’d made it pretty clear that he didn’t care… did he?

“It’s not too bad,” you answer. “You? The college experience is up to your expectations?”

If he hears the bite in your voice, he doesn’t care. Instead, he chuckles lightly, shaking his head, before saying, “I really was an ass last summer. I’m sorry.”

It’s like the world stops turning. Like you’re taken back to the warm summer evening, to the docks and the group of friends you hadn’t seen once after that night. You still feel the warm breeze, still can smell the salt in the air, and you almost believe you can hear the waves.

“What?” is all you manage to get out.

He laughs, like it’s the best joke you’ve ever said in your entire life. “I’m sorry for how I treated you. I was a dick.”

“Honestly,” you say, feeling your heart constricting in your chest, “I don’t want to be talking to you right now.”

He furrows his brow. “Oh, come on, Y/n. It’s water under the bridge.”

But it’s not. Because that night he left you alone, and you were far from home not knowing how you’d get back. You’re lucky nothing bad happened – one of the dock workers happened to be your mother’s ex, and he drove you home telling you that the docks weren’t a playground and that you shouldn’t be hanging around there.

You didn’t have the courage to tell him that you had been with friends and had gotten dumped out of the blue.

“Is it though?” you answer, and venom starts to sip into your tone. “You left me alone that night.”

“I know,” he says. “And I’m sorry about it.”

“So, did you get the college experience?” you ask, crossing your arms on your chest.

Sam scoffs, looking up to the ceiling as if searching for salvation. “Come on, don’t be petty.” He looks back at you, that same insufferable smile on his lips, and he shrugs. “Not really. I realized that none of them compared to you.”

You think the sun has flared and the consequential magnetic storm has fried Sam’s neurons. Because it doesn’t make sense. After months it doesn’t make sense, and you don’t want it. Yet it makes you freeze, and you remember the texts you’d sent him. You remember calling him, even showing up at his job because you wanted to apologize. You remember the embarrassment of his coworkers laughing at you, remember leaving and promising yourself you’d never chase after a man again.

To this day, you’ve held up to your promise.

But his words send you tumbling down a steep slope, and you think you’ll splatter on the rocks at the bottom. Your heart hurts so much it’s hard to breathe, and you wish you could grab a glass on the counter and throw it at his pretty face.

The violent instinct makes you recoil, and you take a step back, only to bump into someone.

“Hey, everything okay here?” Jungkook says, his familiar voice like a safe haven.

You glance over your shoulder, and at the look on your features, he immediately steps even closer to you, mindlessly wrapping an arm around your waist.

It’s worth the shocked expression on Sam’s features. His eyes dip to Jungkook’s hand, now resting on your hip, before looking back up to your features. His eyes widen, and he barks out a short, bitter laugh that resembles nothing of his usual cool charm.

“You’re fucking your brother’s friend?” Sam says, and his words hit like darts straight on the board, though the board is your heart. He hits bull's eye, and you immediately push Jungkook off of you.

“I am not,” you reply. “Maybe he just tried to step in because you can’t fucking take a clue, can you?”

Sam seems so startled by your words that he falls silent, mouth wide open. He looks like a fish, a stupid fish, and you wonder how you managed to actually love him once.

“Excuse me?” he finally says.

“You heard the lady,” Jungkook jumps in. “Fuck off.”

“I don’t fucking need your help,” you throw towards Jungkook.

You feel bad. You feel bad the minute the words are out, especially as you watch Jungkook’s features crumbling into a frown. You hold his gaze, slightly shaking your head as if to say ‘Please understand that this is nothing against you’. You’re not sure he understands, and before he’s able to say anything else, the pretty girl who was with him earlier appears, pulling on his arm.

Sam laughs bitterly, all at your expense, as the girl pulls Jungkook away, saying something about how she’s been waiting for him. Jungkook looks like he wants to resist, to stay by your side, but the look on your face does the deed, and he turns away from you, heading to wherever the girl is bringing him.

From what it seems, they’re heading to the bathroom, and it makes you feel like you’re going to be sick, like you might need to run outside to breathe in some air.

“You know,” Sam says, attracting your attention. “I was right when I dumped you last summer. You’re fucking crazy.”

He leaves without another single word, not even waiting for his drink to be ready. You just stand there, stunned, only shaking out of it when the barman says something next to you.

“Oh,” you let out as you glance towards him. He’s put down Sam’s drink and the pitcher of sangria on the bar, and you don’t know what to do for a few seconds, blinking back tears. “Uh, I’ll pay for everything, but I won’t need the rum and coke.”

You assume the barman has seen the entire altercation as he shrugs. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll keep it for myself, no need to pay.”

You offer him a tight-lipped smile, and you pay for the sangria before stacking the three glasses, leaning them against your chest to make sure you won’t drop them on the walk back to the table with your friends. You’re lucky – the trek back to the table is uneventful, and you put the pitcher and the glasses down amidst your friends’ chatter.

Nabi glances at you once before saying, “What’s wrong?”

Maybe you didn’t realize your eyes were filling with tears. But they sure are, and you furiously blink away, plopping down next to Ria.

“Nothing.”

Nabi furrows her brows, right as everyone’s focus slides to you. The embarrassment of suddenly being the center of attention thankfully pushes your tears away, and you shrug once, taking a deep breath.

“Just some asshole at the bar,” you vaguely explain at everyone’s curious expression.

But it wasn’t just some asshole. There was Jungkook too, and you know you owe him an apology. Yet you don’t know how to apologize to him. Not when the grounds between the two of you are so uncertain, like one wrong move will send you straight to the bottommost pit of the ocean.

“If you tell me it’s that dude from the café I will go feral,” Ria grumbles next to you.

Right. She knows about Sam.

“As much as I’d love to see you going feral,” you tease, “let’s just drink.”

“So it was him?”

You purse your lips, refusing to answer, as the boys all intently listen to the conversation.

“It was who?” Nabi asks, looking confused.

You’d assumed Ria would have filed her in, but it seems she hasn’t, for Nabi clearly doesn’t know about Sam Hwang. Not that Ria knows a lot to begin with.

“Someone from her hometown,” Ria mimics in her best impression of you, which only makes you snort.

“Let’s just drink,” you insist, and you immediately busy yourself with pouring the three glasses.

Your friends look like they want to press you for further explanation – especially Hoseok – but no one says anything. It’s a little awkward, but the moment you clink your glasses together, the weirdness fades away, replaced by a will to revel like only college kids revel.

And so you do. You lose track of the amount of alcohol you’re drinking, taking shots after shots after shots with Ria, while Nabi cheers on you standing right next to Namjoon. Namjoon, who stands just a tad too close to Nabi for it to be casual. You’d make jokes about it, but Ria drags you away, and you find yourself squeezed on the dancefloor, letting Ria grind on you as people look your way.

You don’t care. You can’t bring yourself to care when you’ve drank so much, when all there is is the music and the lights and the throng of bodies that endlessly moves like countless waves on the ocean, the pull and push of the moon inevitable. At low tide, when the crowd disperses in the night, you find yourself blinking, realizing that Ria is not with you anymore.

As a matter of fact, you suddenly can’t see any of your friends, and if it wasn’t for the alcohol in your bloodstream, you’d be worried. Instead, you pull out your phone from your purse, furrowing your brows at it.

[00:56 am] JK: what’s ur problem lol

You stare at the text, not knowing what to reply. Not trusting your drunken fingers to convey a good enough apology. So you ignore it, instead aiming for the group chat.

[02:54 am] You: wher arr u

You press send, uncaring for the typos, trusting your friends to be able to decipher. To your luck, Hoseok immediately shoots you an answer.

[02:54 am] Hobi: I’m outside with yoongi, idk about the others

And so you make your way outside, stopping at the coat check to grab your coat. While you put it on, a too-familiar blond guy, along with two friends you recognize from last summer, arrives and Sam shoots you a look, lips slightly curling in disgust.

You frown, and unable to resist, you close the space between the two of you, pulling on his arm.

“What’s your fucking problem?” you tell him as he turns towards you.

“What do you want?” he fires back.

You feel your throat closing up, yet you can’t stop. Not when old emotions resurface, though you reckon they aren’t all that old to begin with. “Why did you leave me alone at the docks?”

He freezes for a few heartbeats. Long enough for his friends to retrieve their coats, and then they turn to look at you. The redhead you recognize for being there that night, yet you don’t direct the question at him. Not even as he sneers at the sight of you, as if you’re just some disgusting trash.

“Y/n,” Sam lets out, and you tell yourself that he sounds apologetic.

Otherwise you don’t think you’ll make it. Not when you loved him like you did, like only a heart that’s never been broken can.

“Why though?” you press him. “It was dangerous. I could have gotten hurt.”

Sam purses his lips in a thin line, shrugging. “Was it though? You seem perfectly fine.”

You blink away tears, and in a surprising moment of memories of you and him, Sam truly does look apologetic.

“I was in love with you,” you whisper, alcohol forbidding you from preserving any ounce of dignity.

Sam glances over his shoulder. His friends seem to get the cue, because they disappear, heading outside. “Listen, I know,” he says. “I was a dick. That’s why I approached you earlier, but you weren’t really looking to speak to me.”

You take a deep breath, nodding once. “You took me by surprise.”

“Do you want to grab coffee soon?” he suggests.

You’re a fool. A drunken fool, because you say yes. You say yes and to text you whenever, and Sam promises he will, before leaving you alone, like he’d done once all those months ago. But when he leaves, you notice Hoseok by the door, close enough to have heard the conversation.

Your eyes are still brimmed with tears, and Hoseok offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Everything okay?”

And because this is Hoseok, because he’s already been in the aftermath of what Sam was to you, you shake your head no, unable to keep the tears from rolling down your cheeks.

“Let’s get you home,” Hoseok gently says as he crosses the distance between you and him, gently pulling you into a hug.

He rubs your back as you sob into his chest, gently rocking you from side to side. Or maybe it’s the alcohol, and the ground feels like it’s tilting under you. But Hoseok doesn’t let you go, and he lets you cry in his arms until the bouncer tells you you have to go out.

You do, eyes undoubtedly red and stained with your runny makeup, yet you don’t care. You really are drunk, and you think maybe you won’t even remember all of this tomorrow.

“You think we can drop her at her apartment?” Hoseok says, and you offer him a confused look, only to realize that he’s speaking to Yoongi, who seems like he’s been waiting outside this whole time.

“She can hit the couch,” Yoongi suggests, shrugging. “I don’t think the Uber driver will be down for the detour.”

And even if you don’t say yes or no, it’s still what you end up doing. You go home with Hoseok and Yoongi, and Hoseok holds your hand while rubbing soothing circles on the back of it. You’re not crying anymore, instead feeling empty and oh so tired. Hoseok helps you out of your coat once you’re in his apartment, and Yoongi goes to the kitchen to pour you a glass of water.

He meets you and Hoseok in the living room, where Hoseok pulled you after you finished removing your coat.

“Here,” Yoongi says, offering you the glass.

You thank him with a slight bow of your head, grabbing the water and downing it in one shot. Hoseok and Yoongi chuckle lightly at the sight, and then Yoongi plops down on the couch next to Hoseok.

Maybe you’re a little too drunk to notice Hoseok leaning into Yoongi, and Yoongi draping an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder. Maybe you’re a little too gone to realize you’re sitting alone on your side of the couch now, but you don’t care.

“Who was that guy?” Hoseok gently asks.

You take a deep breath and then launch into the story. You spare them no details – you reveal everything about how you’d met through friends from high school, most of them not having followed you here to college. You’d met at a party, had a love-at-first-sight moment, and you’d spent the following seventeen days glued to his side. You tell them about the docks, about what he’d told you, and about the way he’d left you there, with no way to go home. Hoseok bristles as you tell them, but he stays silent as you continue, admitting that you said yes to grabbing coffee with him.

“No way you’re going on a date with him,” Hoseok says, and he surprisingly sounds offended.

“I don’t know,” is what you reply.

“Y/n, that guy is an asshole,” Yoongi intervenes before Hoseok can say anything else. He tightens his arm around Hoseok, and you furrow your brows. “You deserve better than that.”

You look at Hoseok, before sliding your gaze to Yoongi, and then back to Hoseok. And then, even though your brain is foggy and you’re confused, and nothing seems to be making any sense, you blurt, “Is something going on between the two of you?”

Hoseok startles, sitting up from where he was leaning against Yoongi. He flushes deep red, and Yoongi lets out a low chuckle. You’re not surprised when Yoongi says, “So what if yes?”

You meet Hoseok’s gaze. He looks apologetic, like he’s somehow doing something wrong, but you start laughing. Maybe it’s an anxious laugh, like a ‘what the fuck is this evening’ kind of laugh, but you still laugh, and Hoseok just looks at you like you’ve grown horns or something.

“I’m going to need an explanation,” you say once your laughter subsides. “Not that I’m not cool with it.”

“See,” Yoongi says. “I told you it would be okay.”

“It’s more than okay,” you add. “I am actually so relieved.”

“Relieved?” Hoseok lets out.

You shrug. “I didn’t want to hurt you more,” you admit.

And it’s true. You think, the moment you slept with Jungkook, you knew you’d never have sex with Hoseok again. Not that you didn’t like it, but Jungkook is Jungkook, and you reckon you’ll need a moment before you can fuck someone other than him.

“You weren’t hurting me,” Hoseok says, and he looks down at his hands in his lap. “Maybe in November, yeah. But not this time around.”

“I made sure of it,” Yoongi offers as an explanation.

You slightly shake your head. “Wait, wait, wait. What happened?”

“Power outage,” Hoseok offers as an explanation, and he’s still so red you think he’ll burst into flames.

You almost blurt out ‘same’, yet you keep it down at the last second. Maybe because you’re sobering up, or because the subject is sobering you up. Maybe because there’s something just so strange about Yoongi and Hoseok together, especially after you’ve been with Hoseok too. But then again, if he’s happy, then you’ll be happy for him.

Realization hits you a second before you say, “Is that why you haven’t been a dick to me anymore?”

Yoongi bursts out laughing. You’ve never heard him laughing like this, and there’s something so cute about it that you get it.

You get why Hoseok would be into him. And you also get why Ria wasn’t able to ask Yoongi out – he’s been into Hoseok all along.

“Maybe,” Yoongi says, shrugging. “Honestly… I was jealous of you for a while.”

You cock an eyebrow. “Dude, I thought you hated me.”

“I did a little,” he admits sheepishly. “But not anymore.”

“Can you guys stop?” Hoseok bursts, and he hides his face in his hands. “Fuck, this is so awkward.”

You laugh along with Yoongi, leaning forward to pat him on the shoulder. “Sorry, I guess as people that both fucked you, we immediately get along well.”

“That’s crass,” Hoseok whines, while Yoongi just keeps on laughing behind him, though his cheeks have turned pink.

“But it’s true!”

Hoseok shakes his head, and then finally looks up to you. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

The sudden seriousness makes you rein in the joking tone, and you offer him a small smile. You hope it’s as genuine as you feel, though with you being drunk, you wouldn’t be surprised if you just look dumb.

“Of course I’m okay with it,” you reassure him. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

He tentatively smiles, nodding once. “We are.”

And maybe you’re just relieved they offered a change of subject from Sam Hwang. Especially as Hoseok glances towards Yoongi, his eyes probably conveying unsaid words because Yoongi gets up, wishing you good night.

You watch him go, and once he’s out of sight, you turn your head back towards Hoseok.

“How did it happen?” you ask with a small voice.

“We got a little drunk on Valentine’s Day,” he says, shrugging, his cheeks still deep red. “I think I said something about you…” His eyes trail to the screen of the TV in front of you, and it reflects you and him like a black mirror. “Yoongi confessed. Said he’s tired of watching me get hurt. I was drunk and I kissed him.”

It reminds you of Jungkook. Of the way he’d gazed at you the instant before he’d kissed you. The weight of the emotions in his eyes had been too much to bear, and you wonder if everything was just a mistake anyway.

“And?” you press, trying to avoid thoughts of Jeon Jungkook and Sam Hwang, though you know it’s useless.

They’ll come haunt you as soon as you’ll close your eyes tonight.

“And then…” He chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah. It was my first time with a guy. I didn’t even think I could be attracted to men.”

You smile wisely. “College is all about trying new things and discovering new things about yourself.”

“Amen,” he echoes, and you share a short laugh. Once it subsides, Hoseok leans back into the couch, turning to look at you. “Be completely honest with me though. Are you really okay with this?”

You nod, your lips gently curving upwards. “Of course, Hobi. If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.”

He sighs in relief, and it seems like a weight has been taken off his shoulders. “I’m happy. I never saw it coming, but the last few days have been great.” He pauses for a few seconds, letting out a small laugh that’s only meant for himself, and maybe Yoongi if he was still here. “It’s still early to tell where this will head, and we don’t plan to tell anyone before we’re sure of it but… I figured you at least needed to know. Considering our history.”

You nod. “Makes sense. I promise my lips are sealed.”

“Thank you.”

The following silence is broken up by a yawn, and you hide your mouth behind your hand as to not look like a fish out of water. Once you’ve blinked a few tired tears away, you say, “Does that mean I can sleep in your bed and you share one with Yoongi?”

Hoseok runs a hand through his hair, smirking playfully. “Wouldn’t you like it?”

You cock an eyebrow, snorting. “Are you not sharing a bed?”

“Not yet,” Hoseok admits. “We’re really trying to take things slow.”

And it would make sense. Especially for Hoseok, you reckon.

“Fair enough. I’ll miserably sleep on the couch then.”

He laughs, pushing you playfully. “I’ll have you know this couch is really comfortable.”

“Will you at least give me a blanket?” you ask, pouting and bashing your eyelashes, trying your best to look like a begging puppy.

“Stop,” he says, laughing again. “Yeah, I’ll get you a blanket.”

You thank him as he gets up, heading to his room to grab something for you. He comes back with a sweater and a blanket, offering you both without saying anything.

“Sweater?” you ask, unable to form a full sentence.

“If you want to change out of your clothes.”

Ah. Makes sense.

“Thank you,” you say.

He nods, smiling softly, and then turns around to head back to his room. Before he’s out of the living room, he turns back around, meeting your gaze.

“What about you though?” he asks.

You furrow your brow quizzically. “What?”

“What happened during the power outage?” he specifies. “You just disappeared.”

You keep your features as blank as your drunken ass possibly can when you reply, “Nothing happened. Just didn’t bother to charge my phone.”

“I saw how Jungkook looked at you at the library last Sunday,” Hoseok says. “You can’t tell me nothing happened.”

And maybe because this is Hoseok, maybe because you think he’s becoming the closest friend you have, you reply, “I don’t think it really matters if something happened.”

“Why?” he asks, leaning against the wall as his hands disappear in the pockets of his pants.

“He’s Tae’s best friend,” you explain, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s not like I have any future with him.”

“Right.” Hoseok purses his lips, holding your gaze as you let him read the truth in your eyes. “The only thing I have to say is, please be careful. Jungkook doesn’t really have a good reputation.”

You gulp around a sudden lump in your throat. “Fuck, I know. I’m a mess.”

“You aren’t,” Hoseok reassures you. “You said it yourself, college is all about trying new things. Some of the things won’t necessarily work out, and that’s okay. Just try not to put yourself into situations where you’ll only get hurt.”

“Jungkook wouldn’t hurt me,” you say, quick to defend him even though you know he totally would. Even though he already did, when he asked you to pretend like nothing happened.

“Maybe.” Hoseok wets his lips, scrunching up his nose a little. “Or that Sam guy would.”

The reminder of Sam Hwang makes you hide your face in your hands as you groan. “I really am a fucking mess.”

“Don’t go out with him,” Hoseok says. “I’m sure there are plenty of other guys out there that would like to go out with you. Don’t settle for someone who’s already treated you like shit in the past.”

“So, don’t go for Sam or Jungkook, is that so?” you say, laughing awkwardly.

Hoseok frowns. “Don’t. Or do. I’m not your mom. But as a friend, I’d say you deserve better.”

“We’ll see,” you say after a few seconds of silence. “Thanks, Hobi.”

And you mean it. Because you know he cares, even though you might only be a friend now.

“Of course,” he says. “And I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

He looks behind his shoulder, towards what you assume is the door to Yoongi’s room. “About me and Yoongi. About the fact that it happened on the day we were supposed to go on a date.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you reassure him again. “It’s really okay.”

He nods once, before pushing up from the wall. “Good. Yeah. I guess I’ll head to bed, then.”

There’s awkwardness in the air. Maybe because a little over a week ago you would have gone to bed with him, would have gotten your guts rearranged by him. But somehow you don’t feel any ounce of disappointment or regret at the thought that it’s done. Maybe because he truly has become a friend, and you reckon you need friends more than you need to get fucked.

“Good night, Hobi,” you say, offering him a small smile.

“Good night,” he echoes, and then he disappears into his room.

Once you’re alone, you quickly change into his sweater, wrapping yourself up in the blanket. You realize you don’t have a pillow, but you figure it’ll be okay, not wanting to bother Hoseok or Yoongi right now. So you lie on your back, looking up at the ceiling, frowning slightly.

Right. You forgot to turn off the light. You get up to do so, and once you’re lying back down, you grab your phone from your purse. You’ve gotten a few more texts in the group chat, from Ria saying that she told you she was leaving and you’d said it was okay. You frankly don’t remember, but maybe that’s because you had been too busy dancing with a group of girls that had welcomed you in their ranks as if you weren’t just a stranger.

It doesn’t really matter. What matters is the text that Jungkook sent you, and with a sigh, you click on it again. The conversation thread opens, and you scroll up, just to see that the last thing he texted you was something about getting gochujang sauce for him at the grocery store one of the rare times that you went. That text dates back to December, and the text before that was about him asking to go pick him and Taehyung up at a party in early October because Taehyung was too drunk for an Uber ride.

Taehyung had ended up throwing up in your backseat, and you made him clean three times before you’d forgiven him.

You reread Jungkook’s latest text. And you wonder, what was your problem? Why were you so inclined to bite at him, too, when he was just trying to help? It’s a haunting question, and you can’t bring yourself to apologize yet.

You tell yourself you’d rather do it in person, but as you try to sleep later, the real reason taunts you, haunts you, forcing you to lie awake late in the night.

You’re just too much of a coward to face Jeon Jungkook.

Prev | Chapter 5.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

What did we think of this one? I don't think a lot of people expected that yoongi x hobi twist hahaha I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think:)

#chasing cars ch 5 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswritersclub #chasing cars #chasing cars series

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yuri-is-online · 1 year

Text

Out of the Bag (Jamil, Ace, and Idia x Yuu)

"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?

notes: (so uhhhh Jamil and Ace were supposed to be a part of the original post but I cut them out because I had to go to bed but forgot to remove the tags, sorry </3) they/them pronouns used for Yuu, sibling snark (Jamil and Ace) vs light angst (the Shroud parents), light reference to certain events in Ch. 6, but nothing specific. If you liked this please check out the first version on my masterlist.

Jamil

"Oh yeah, you're Najma, right?" The younger girl looks pleasantly surprised you have remembered her from your visit to the Scalding Sands.

"Well that makes this a lot easier, do you know where Jamil is?" You internally cheer at how polite she is, some of the other families you have been dealing with today have really been testing your patience. "I've been looking everywhere for him, but couldn't seem to find a good opportunity to sneak up on him." Or maybe not, that doesn't sound like she hasn't seen him at all, why is she asking you?

"According to my schedule he's probably in the gym for the club activities program." You confirm with your clipboard and Najma sighs.

"Lame, he's gonna be all sweaty and gross." She checks her phone as you sneak a glance at Grim trying to figure out how much longer you have before you need to find something shiny to distract him. "Actually maybe I can just ask you." You turn your attention back to Najma who seems to be tapping her cheek with her phone and sizing you up. "Is there anywhere to get snacks on campus?"

"Now you're talkin!" Cheers Grim, bringing a really bright smile to Najma's face and a tentative one to yours. "Mr. S's Mystery Shop's got all the tuna you can ask for!"

"And other things to." You helpfully add and Najma happily begins to follow.

"So what do you like to do?" she asks almost ten seconds into your walk. "Like what fun stuff is there to do around campus?"

"Shouldn't you be asking your brother?" You ask, thankful Grim is too caught up in his tuna thoughts to make any snarky comments.

"About you?" Najma laughs and you feel a bit silly. "Nah he hates being honest about things like that."

"Well I don't have much free time..." but you manage to list off some things that you like as Najma nods, still tapping her phone on her chin for some reason.

"What about food?" she stops fiddling with her phone and just goes straight to texting on it as the Mystery Shop comes into view. "I know Jamil's food looks boring but it tastes super good."

"It sure does." Grim says, well more like whines. "He only ever gives it to Yuu and gets mad when I eat it though."

"That's because he asked for my opinion, not yours." It's a petty thing to say, but hey Jamil's a good cook. Najma seems to agree, giggling before you both jump ten feet backwards as a strangely shaped blur nearly knocks you over.

"NAJMA!" Jamil is indeed, sweaty and gross looking, his basketball jersey is practically drenched through, almost like he ran the entire way to here from the gymnasium. He's doubled over, hands on his knees as you fumble around looking for the water bottle Crewel made you bring with you earlier which he gratefully takes.

"Oh hey what are you doing here Jamil?" You don't know Najma super well, but she almost sounds disappointed to see her brother. "Prefect said you were at the gym."

"Don't start." Jamil passes you back the empty water bottle, hesitating just a bit before he lets you take it. "She didn't do anything weird, right? Hasn't said anything strange?" You blink in confusion.

"No? She's just been asking a bunch of questions about stuff. Jamil relaxes, letting you take the bottle with a genuine smile-

And gets cut off by a shutter sound effect making you both turn towards Najma, who doesn't bother looking up from her phone camera.

"Whoops thought I turned that off."

Ace

"Well, well, well, just what should I do with you?" The ginger stranger is stroking his chin with an all too familiar look that puts you on edge, not because you think he is going to try anything illegal (yet) but because you can practically see the collar on this guy already. There really is no beating around the bush about who this guy is, even if you really wished you had some plausible deniability. "I could tell you about that time I told him if he kissed a frog it would turn into royalty and he actually did it-" Too much information he technically just did. "Or what about that time he only wanted to eat carrots so I freaked him out by saying he was turning into one because his hair was orange-" So is yours big brother Trappola! And where the hell is Grim he is supposed to be suffering through this with you. "Nah those are too boring- oh I got it!" Before you can break out in a dash for the mirror chamber, big brother Trappola claps an unintentionally (you hope) firm hand on your shoulder. "Listen to this- wait I didn't introduce myself I-"

"Ace's brother." He seems genuinely taken aback. "He talks about you all the time."

"Oh does he?" Maybe you shouldn't have mentioned that, little Trappola's ego was insufferable already, older Trappola's has got to be worse right. It's so obvious you can't even bring yourself to put the question mark on it.

"Funny you mention that, from my end it seems like all he ever talks about is Yuu." He makes a big show of looking you over. "Always talking about what a pain it is to look after you, but he never does stop." He maneuvers himself to look directly into your eyes. “You must be pretty special then, right?”

“Didn’t you used to go here?” You ask, crossing your arms and fixing your best “not today Trappola” look onto your face.

“Sure did! Also got put into Heartslabyul, must run in the family, we’re all a bit mad.” Older Trappola breaks eye contact for just a second, something dancing on the tip of his tongue you have no desire to entertain at all. You just want to ditch this overgrown root veg on his brother and then take a nap.

“So then, just to be clear, you don’t need me to show you around.” You fumble around your clipboard looking for a map anyway.

“Oh no I absolutely need you to do that.” You like it when Ace plays dumb better, at least it’s cute. “Would be a really bad thing if you just left me all alone and I went somewhere I wasn’t supposed to.” He stands up straight, looking off into the distance behind you with a dramatic sigh. “Somewhere like Ramshackle Dorm maybe? I hear that’s one of Ace’s-”

A surprisingly strong pair of arms wraps you into an embrace from behind.

“Back off.” snaps Ace, a lot harsher than either of you have heard before “This one’s mine.”

Idia

"Dear! Dear! Come look it's the prefect!" A very excited very pink woman in a sundress and comically oversized sunglasses beckons to a very tall, very out place looking man who is... also wearing comically oversized sunglasses.

"The who?" he sheepishly walks over to his wife and gives you a little wave, clearly out of place but trying his best.

"The prefect! Ortho and Idia's friend." The realization seems to hit both you and Mr. Shroud at the same time, causing you both to retreat just a bit. You because you feel desperately dumb for not noticing the flaming hair and him because-

Well you hope it's because of the whole house thing but who knows.

"Oh sorry. Um we're Mr. and Mrs. Shroud but you probably already guessed that it's really nice to meet you." You awkwardly shake hands while Grim hides behind your legs.

"Do you have any plans for today?" Asks Mrs. Shroud. "I'd hate to interrupt things too much."

"Oh no that's not really an issue for me." You look down at Grim for half a second before adding. "For us."

"I'm sorry to hear that." whispers Mr. Shroud, gently taking his wife's hand and you stand around in silence for a little bit, trying to figure out how to walk the conversation from the ledge it's found itself on.

"Um if there isn't anything you need help with-"

"Idia speaks really highly of you." Mrs. Shroud says gently, and you have to keep yourself from fainting from shock. Idia speaking highly of- no forget that. Idia talks to his parents? And you were the conversation topic? If she had said it was Ortho that would make sense but Idia? "I know he can be a bit blunt, but he treasures your friendship. And as his mother, I am very grateful he has someone as kind as you in his life."

"We both are." whispers Mr. Shroud. "If you need help while you are here please don't hesitate to ask us." And with that they leave you and Grim

~~~

[Fullmetal] hey ortho said u ran into our parents irl

[Fullmetal] srry that had to be awkward

[yuu] it's cool

[yuu] I mean they spooked Grim but they were nice lol

[Fullmetal] UNACCEPTABLE

[Fullmetal] ...so do you think that he'd be cool to come over so I can like

[Fullmetal] apologize

[Fullmetal] u know for the stress

[yuu] and not for talking about me behind my back (￣ε￣)

[read at 6:57 pm]

[Fullmetal is typing... ... ...] [... ... ...] [... ... ...]

"I don't need to apologize if I said nice things... right?"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper x reader #ace trappola x reader #idia shroud x reader #Najma texting Jamil within 10 seconds of seeing the prefect: *get over here or i am stealing ur bitch*#also not me googling “funniest lies to tell kids” to write ace's brother and then not using any of them #also idia enjoyers... idk if i did your boy well i am so sorry

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caitlinbueckers · 5 months

Note

ok Ik you said Pazzi fic in studio but will never get the idea of Paige calling azzi mamas out of my head so just felt like I needed to share an idea for a blurb or to include in anything you write PAIGE CALLINF AZZI MAMAS

anon ur a genius but i am simply a fool who took this prompt and then ran with it and turned it into a random oneshot soooooo i apologize for the minimal use of ‘mamas’ but hope u like it anyway and will implement that in all my writing deadass

pet names.

paige bueckers/azzi fudd.

2.8K.

kinda bullshit rambling but a lil more of a structure to follow???

minimal nsfw so 18+ as fuck

Wait guys let me know how u rly feel bcuz im not suuuper happy w this one

at first, it’s a subtle change.

it’s not like paige is ever actually serious enough for her words to be taken to heart or with any ounce of meaning behind it— she’s a fucking idiot, and azzi was more than well aware of her incessant antics, and the fact that she just played too much.

so, of course it surprises her, but she can’t say it really means anything, until it does.

it’s funny to azzi, really, when recently, all of a sudden, paige will get caught up in her usual tangents that she’s started letting these random, little pet names slip from her lips, mouth moving so fast, almost as if she barely meant it, could barely even call it out herself.

it happens usually when they’re tired— or, at least when azzi’s tired, and paige is excited. sweat clinging to the back of azzi’s neck, her curls drawing up and away from the edges of her hairline, skin flushed and hot to the touch when paige is suddenly breezing past her. she’s somehow still in a jog despite the rigorous drills they’d done, oblivious to the redness of her face or the plastered strands of blonde hair against her forehead. she’s at the tail end of a conversation with KK, still grinning like a fool about whatever they must’ve been chattering about, yelling out some type of phrase or joke that only those two could conjur up.

azzi’s right eyebrow is already lifted, somehow already suspicious and unimpressed of her intentions when paige is launching straight into a new conversation, cheeks still pink and teeth on display as she skips backwards to keep her eyes on azzi.

“i think me an’ KK are ‘finna go play 2K when we get back to the dorms— i told her ass she doesn’t stand like, a single chance when I’ve been on my grind, and she don’t believe me, like, baby, you know i’ve been on that shit,” she clicks her tongue, rolls her eyes before she’s smacking azzi’s arm, giving her a sneaky grin, one that signaled whatever she was offering was really gonna be a delight, (it never was), “you should come chill. you don’t gotta play if you don’t want, you can always be my lil’ cheerleader.”

it wasn’t like her high energy, rapid movement behavior was anything unusual, but that little, barely missable word was.

baby. it rolls off her tongue like it’s been waiting around the whole time, lingering beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to strike. she says it with an ease of comfort she can’t necessarily place, and azzi doesn’t necessarily hate it, but it’s there, nonetheless.

it momentarily stunts her, but azzi still finds herself smiling— not from any type of fluster or flush miraculously, but one that she usually gives paige when she’s amused by her, eyes wide and exaggerated as she huffs out a chuckle. “that sounds… boring, honestly.” but, she’s laughing at the gape on paige’s face anywa, “i need to shower, dude, i don’t wanna watch video games.” she scoffs, before she grins at her, only because she knows it’ll piss paige off.

and it does, so, of course the walk out to the parking lot is filled with a whole lot of, ‘oh my god, bro, you’re so lame.’ or, ‘like, azzi, you can have a turn ‘forreal, like just come over for like, deadass a second.’

ultimately, and unsurprisingly enough, paige ends up getting her way. though, she’ll swear it’s only because azzi takes her shower, does some homework and is in the middle of taking out her braids when the word hits her again, and again, and again.

babybabybaby.

she can’t really blame the way she rolls her eyes despite herself. her and paige had been close for fucking ever, so there wasn’t necessarily much between them that was off limits, but it still resonated within her as something azzi couldn’t just brush off. whether that was more damaging than pretending it never happened, she didn’t have a single clue.

all she did know, was that paige bueckers got her way entirely way too much. so much so, that azzi has to let out an audible groan reserved only for paige, before she texts that she’s on her way over.

and yeah, whatever, maybe it wouldn’t matter so much if it was just a one-off, or if maybe their friendship wasn’t so fucking complicated in the first place.

but then, it does matter, because it doesn’t stop happening.

when paige is frustrated at her homework, sitting plainly with her legs at full extension in the study room with aaliyah, ice, and azzi, it leaves her lips in a huff of exasperation, “azzi, babe, this shit really makes no sense, swear.” even if she’s saying it in the voice that clearly states she hasn’t attempted it for nearly long enough to proclaim she doesn’t get it, “az, can you please just come check it out.” azzi can’t tell what’s worse; the fact that paige had said it, or the fact that nobody had even looked surprised that she did.

or when they’d gotten dressed for media day, everyone milling about as they try not to wrinkle their uniforms or crease their concealer, it’s paige (and eventually nika and aaliyah) that whoops and hollers during azzi’s solo pictures, something like, “yeaaaah princess! nation’s best, babyyyyy! work that shit!” followed by a series of whistles that sounded so off pitch it makes azzi snort, rolling her eyes as she purposely avoids the gaze that paige so obviously wants to capture, teetering at the edges of azzi’s peripheral with a grin so wide it threatens to make her blush.

and, she swears she doesn’t, and instead turns back to the photographer with cheeks only a touch pinker than they were previously, “sorry— can we do that again?”

really, the only time she’d ever allowed herself to actually enjoy it, was on the last night at the hotel after a game. it couldn’t have been later than two or three in the morning, paige and azzi having spent the majority of it whispering beneath the covers, anything to not wake up the two other girls asleep in the other double bed.

it’s not too bad, having to share beds— except that, paige is a chronic cuddler and azzi would rather sleep on the shitty futon than be subjected to paige’s unrelenting weight against her back, or her arms slung lazily over her, but it was because of that precise position that azzi could even hear the words when she says it.

“mmmh-,“ she hums tiredly first, speaking mostly out of her ass, like paige always did when got too tired and let herself start rambling “night, pretty girl.”

it’s soft, and sort of raspy— the way paige gets when she’s been screaming all night on the court, and azzi can really only tell by the amount of ibuprofen that she’d downed before bed being somewhat more than her usual, that she’s probably got a headache. it’s a voice she uses when she’s being sincere.

the quiet sentiment, however insignificant to anyone else, replays in her mind. almost like a secret. almost like the closer she keeps it to her chest, the harder it’ll be to lose it.

it makes her whole body warm all over.

her response comes a few beats later, when she’s sure paige has drifted, and nothing but her measured breath is puffing against azzi’s neck, heard only between the two of them.

“night, p.”

but then, suddenly, everything sort of changes. azzi doesn’t know when this part happened— maybe it’s between the time she kisses her at that bar, tipsy and too close, unaware of the camera that set the internet aflame, and now, where it was customary that paige did homework with her, or ate dinner with her or slept over all the time. perhaps, it’s one selective moment in the chaos between that had suddenly transformed paige’s subtle casualty of the pet names, to something more intimate. more for them, rather for anyone else.

or, maybe it was exactly where they knew they’d end up all along.

it’s after a night out, after neither of them had ever really questioned how this had became their routine. that now, it had become something unspoken, an inherent rule that was followed without it needing to be stated. that, when they got too fucked up with the team, and the ubers were being ordered, azzi and paige always went together, that the address would always end up being paige’s dorm, and that azzi would always be curling into purple sheets by the time she sobers up enough to sleep.

but, she’s not sober. she’s drunk, and her face is flushed hot, sticky with the bar atmosphere. “paige, you’re making me too hot.” azzi complains with an impatient lilt to her voice, lifting her right shoulder up to her neck as if to shrug paige off, but the girl is relentless, humming her denial as she slid a hand across azzi’s thigh, grasping it hard enough that her nails dug into the skin there.

“psh, you’re already hot, shut up.” the words are spoken clumsily, lips brushing against the bare skin of azzi’s shoulder with each word, while a sudden surge of annoyance and somehow gratitude courses through azzi for having worn a sleeveless top, “c’mere, mamas, ‘lemme lay on you.”

she’s being whiny, and it only makes azzi roll her eyes before her gaze flickers to the screen of the car, giving her another light elbow prod, only this time, a short, sneaking smile is crossing her face. “paige, ‘forreal, we’re about to be back anyway.”

this, somehow, only fuels her. “i’m wounded,” she complains, before she’s pressing a little smack of a kiss to azzi’s neck, “my girl’s so mean to me, shit.”

my girl.

what the fuck ever.

azzi should’ve demanded an explanation then, but she doesn’t.

in fact, there’s not an explanation waiting for them when they stumble into paige’s room, their hands in a tight grasp, pulling each other in so that they can both fall against the bed, and azzi really shouldn’t have been expecting one. it’s definitely not explained when they’re somehow under the blankets, and paige has an arm, long and lean, wrapped around azzi’s waist to end somewhere between her legs, fingers finding a rhythm that seems to pull the very air from azzi’s lungs.

it’s not what azzi was expecting to happen, and yet somehow they’d fallen into place like it something they’d done a million times. paige had undressed her, after azzi’s complaint of still feeling too hot, and paige— not even a singular bit sober— finds her hands along the bottom of azzi’s top, tugging it over her head before she tosses her an old basketball camp shirt that had been slung across her dresser.

“you gonna sleep in jeans?” is really what had started it, paige’s pointed tone making azzi’s face burn hot, but the smirk on her face never faltered. “you’re so annoying.”

because then, paige has her fingers hooking into azzi’s waistband, eliciting a string of giggles that escape because fuck, she’s ticklish and paige knows. “what? what am i doing?” the blonde is grinning too, snickering under her breath as azzi’s pants are yanked down her hips, kicked from her feet with minimal effort until azzi feels it. a featherlight kiss was placed to each of her scarred knees, the inside of her thigh, eyes flickering up to azzi’s hazy but steady gaze, “this okay?”

god, azzi hadn’t realized until just then how fucking okay it was.

it’s quiet, sensual even, the way that paige talks her through it— heel of her hand dragging endlessly against her swollen clit, fingers thick as they arched into her, teeth grazing the back of azzi’s shoulder with each word of encouragement.

“c’mon, mamas, jus’ like that.” had anyone known better, they’d think paige must’ve been getting off just to this, by the way her own voice hitched and caught, her own hard swallows that reverberated in azzi’s ear, each laced with little gasps as she plunged into her wetness.

but, azzi did know better— paige was absolutely getting off to it. her voice is all breath, crackling and barely audible, murmuring incoherent mumbles that make it almost incomprehensible to decipher, yet, azzi swears she can understand.

it’s in her ear, over and over, that heat and pressure between her legs building as her hips twitched involuntarily against her knuckles, feels the way they slide deeper within her and azzi lets out a noise that even she’s too embarrassed to recount. “fuck, i wanna hear that shit, need to hear you baby, please.”

it coaxes the orgasm straight from azzi’s core, thighs involuntarily squeezing around paige’s hands, to which the blonde is silent in muted awe. she watches with bleary eyes but bated breath, sitting up only a bit to really witness it. the way azzi’s face drew up, eyebrows furrowed and lips parting, the whimper edged breaths that huffed out of her, the tight clamping of her eyes shut.

“so fucking pretty,” each word is punctuated in a kiss, “so good.”

really, it should’ve been a lot worse for them the next morning. azzi can’t help the wave of a ground shaking realization she gets when she rolls over to inspect paige’s sleeping expression, lips slightly parted, her blonde hair mussed on the pillow behind her. there should’ve been some type of lingering awkwardness that hung above them, some type of trepidation or fear, maybe even regret.

it definitely wasn’t like they talked about it, but they’d also never quite gone this far. did they need to? probably, because azzi knew that the guilt would probably hit sooner or later.

in fact, azzi waits for it to hit, all the way until paige wakes up, and her eyes are a little puffy, watery blue and clear as she blinks up blearily at azzi like she’s the finest thing she’s ever laid eyes on (because she is), and whispers with a grin, “distracted by my beauty?”

she waits even until the next away game, when her legs are propped up over paige’s lap and her fingers are drumming absently against azzi’s thigh, humming something in her headphones with her eyes shut, looking like a complete idiot, before their eyes meet by chance when paige opens them, and suddenly, they’re both grinning.

she even waits for it to hit when the buzzer goes off after the fourth quarter of that game, an easy win, and confetti is thrown. it’s chaos really, with all the girls rushing through the tunnel to get back to the lockers. that is, until, paige pulls her aside for half a second, hidden away from the hungry eyes to press a solid, sweet kiss to her lips.

but it doesn’t end there. azzi waits for it during her injury, when enough nights in linoleum covered white floors with the constant smell of antiseptic start to pierce the inside of azzi’s brain, ruins her attitude enough that paige’s texts go unanswered. and yet, everytime azzi wakes up, the pain in her leg flared and angry, it’s paige that’s sat in the corner of the room, huddled under a shitty hospital blanket, waiting for her to wake up.

it went even as far as the loss against IOWA when the roles are reversed— after the excitement of final four had became real, after the grueling, rampant preparation, and then ultimately, a loss. it’s when azzi gets permission to stick around in paige’s hotel room until she gets back from the game, and the way that the blonde, finally in the safety of the four walls, found herself crumbling to azzi, becoming nothing but a shell of what everyone perceives her to be, everything paige wishes she fucking wasn’t.

it’s only then, that azzi finds herself returning the favor— arms wrapped tight around paige’s waist with a burning, sting in her own eyes that she can feel the moment she sighs against the crown of paige’s head. she can smell the sweat, the smell of a basketball court that had just gotten waxed, but really, azzi just smells paige, and that’s enough to give her the composure she needs to whisper against her head, “don’t be so hard on yourself, baby… you guys did so good.”

and they don’t talk about it, because they don’t need to. the same way they never had to ask the other when it came to the hospital or bus rides or homework dates or hotel rooms— it was unspoken, implied but never mentioned. the same way back when they’d met at USA camp, it was never a matter of conversation for their plays to work, it was all in the matter of a look, or a slight of hand.

and when the team starts asking, giving paige shit about how she’s missing video game nights with KK or azzi’s getting shit about caroline missing her study partner, everybody already knows. when paige tells nika, voice only a little timid as she gives her a condensed version of the last few months like it was a ground shaking news, head tilted to lean on the older girls shoulder, the brunette bursts into laughter. ‘finally, took you guys long enough.’

and really, it was a wonder they hadn’t been like this the whole time.

a wonder that it had taken this long in the first place.

#paige bueckers #pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #writing asf #anon asf

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letsgetrowdy43 · 29 days

Text

Just a few months—

Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

Request: �� Heyyy can I request this prompt "Your lover kisses you goodbyes as usual, but when they start going towards the door, you run towards them and give them another deep kiss" with Luke Hughes ☺️

Warnings/notes: I'm a sucker for soft Luke...

End of summer celebration!!

There was nothing quite as depressing as the agony of watching the summer nights blend back into the schedule of the school year. The quiet passing of time and ticking of the clock as mid-August turns into early September. Which led to now, the long-awaited moment of separating from loved ones as schedules get busy and distances get longer after months of being attached at the hip.

Luke quietly organized all the girl's kitchen utensils as she found the perfect spot on the counter for each appliance. The silence of the looming departure and the fact that her three roommates had still not arrived settled in the empty space as the clock ticked.

In just a short hour the child would be saying their last goodbye until her Christmas break when he would fly her out to Jersey for a few days. They'd see each other a few other times, like when he played in Detroit or when would she commute out to Columbus to spend the night with him and see the game.

But from now until her graduation in April their love would exist miles apart from each other, manifested in phone calls, little packages in the mail to one another, and the occasional Facetime.

It was never ideal, always a challenge, but it was a sacrifice they were willing to make for another year before she packed up her life in Michigan and made the move to be with him. But there was always a future ahead of them, and that kept the spark alive.

Quiet tears welled in her eyes as she watched the concentration on his face as he placed all her forks in their respective spots, chewing the inside of his lip as he looked up to see the sad look that had washed over her face. He had long forgotten the cutlery and made his way over to her, his arms wrapping around her as he hugged her and her arm full of knit dishrags to his chest.

"What's got you all upset?" "Gonna miss you so much," she sobbed as she let go of all the clothes and wrapped herself around the boy, face buried in his soft t-shirt as he gently swayed them in an attempt to calm her down.

She let out a wet laugh at how dramatic she must look, "I just hate being so far from you," she shrugged as one of his hands wiped away the tears and mascara that tainted her perfect rosy cheeks. "It's gonna suck so bad," he agreed, "but we did it last year, and we only have the last year to go, so really this is like the home stretch."

His words were not overly helpful but she smiled at his lame attempts, pressing a kiss to his chest as he continued to sway them back and forth.

"And think about it, I'll be back here the second I can get on a flight for your grad." "What about Playoffs?" "Well we will cross that road when we get to it, but I will be here to see graduate, and then you'll come back with me to Jersey and we can go look at apartments and you'll be in grad school," he made everything sound so simple, which was far from the case, but to know he had some faith in the two of them felt nice.

"We have a plan, just got to make it to the end of this school year and will have the rest of our lives together," he mumbled before cupping the side of her tear-stained cheeks and pressing kisses to her temple and then a slow one to her lips before his phone began to ring in his back pocket.

His alarm goes off, voicing that he needs to head home to pack before his flight tonight.

Her bottom lip wobbled as his eyes glossed over slightly, "I love you," he mumbled into her hairline as she nodded and leaned into his lips. She pulled away momentarily to stand on her tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips, a long, delicate, a little rushed kiss that spoke more than words could as his hand travelled down to the small of her back and hers found his tone forearms. "I love you too," she said in between kisses as he pulled away and pressed his forehead against hers.

He dipped his head down to press a kiss to her cheek before holding her flush against his chest one last time, "I really need to go," he sighed as he nodded and pulled away. her hands whipped away her tears as he collected his things, leaving his sweater behind for her, a little surprise for later.

"Call me when you get home okay? And tell the boys I hope they have safe flights home," she said with a sad smile, as his hand caught hers and squeezed it one last time. "I will, and they told me to tell you to have a fun year," she smiled at the thought of the boys who had basically been somewhat of brothers to her wishing her well.

He took off in the direction of the door, not wanting to add anything else and make the two of them upset again. As the door clicked shut behind him, the silence that filled the room felt heavy, suffocating. She stood there for a moment, staring at the door, her heart aching with the sudden emptiness that occupied the room around her.

But something inside her refused to let this be the way they parted.

Without thinking, she rushed toward the door, her feet moving faster than her mind could keep up with. She yanked it open and bolted down the hallway, her breath coming in quick, desperate gasps. “Luke!” she called out, her voice trembling with urgency as she sped walked down the hallway.

He had barely made it to the stairwell when he heard her. He turned, surprised, his brows furrowed in concern. But before he could say anything, she was there, flinging herself into his arms for one last dramatic goodbye.

“I didn't like that goodbye, I couldn’t let you leave like that,” she whispered, her voice shaky as she clung to him. She pulled his face down to hers and pressed her lips to his, a kiss that was fierce, full of emotion, a kiss that told him everything she couldn’t put into words.

It was a kiss that tasted of longing, of love, of the fear of the months they’d have to spend apart.

Luke’s arms wrapped around her instantly, holding her tightly against him as he kissed her back with equal intensity and as cliche as it sounded there was no love in the world that amount to the one he held for the girl in his arms.

When they finally pulled away, breathless, he rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing together as they stood there, unwilling to let go.

“Promise me you’ll be okay,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. She nodded, her hands cupping his face as she whispered back, “As long as you promise to come back to me.” “I promise."

They lingered for a moment longer, soaking in the warmth of each other’s presence before he finally pulled back. He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, then reluctantly let her go. “I’ll call you as soon as I get on the highway,” he promised one last time, his hand squeezing hers gently before he turned and headed down the stairs.

This time, she didn’t follow him.

She stood there, watching until he was out of sight, her heart aching but filled with the certainty that they would make it through this last stretch of being apart. And with one last sigh, she turned back to her apartment, the lingering warmth of his kiss still on her lips.

#rowan’s end of summer celly!!#luke hughes #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine

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jockbroski34 · 7 months

Text

The Jockrooms

I hated gym class. I wasn't athletic and I didn’t like playing sports. Worst of all, I was stuck with the dumb jocks in my class. Today, one of them, Kyle, threw a dodgeball right at my face. The force was immense. As the ball collided with me with the speed of a bullet train, I felt myself lose my balance and I tumbled onto the ground. I sat on the ground in a daze, my head spinning from the raw power exerted from the ball. If he threw it any harder, I’d be sent to the nurse.

Kyle was one of the tallest guys in the school, towering at an impressive 6’4, and he was just as strong as he was tall. He was huge and he made sure that everyone knew it. He was proof that God picked favorites in terms of genetics. The guy had pretty much everything, except for a working brain. He had little problem asserting dominance on those he viewed as weaker than him. To him, I was yet another easy target with my wimpy constitution.

His jock friends cheered and high-fived him for how savagely he destroyed me. Our gym teacher did nothing to discourage his aggressive behavior, but I wouldn’t expect any less from the football coach. Those were his boys after all. They could probably get away with murder and he’d still cover for them. I sat down on the sidelines, covering my swollen cheek, as I was forced to watch Kyle and his goons dominate the rest of my team.

After what felt like an eternity, the teacher dismissed us to go change and I was relieved. I was still covering my cheek, bruised from the dodgeball that was lobbed at me. I sat down on the bench and opened my locker to change my clothes. I felt a hand bump me as Kyle and his entourage walked past me.

“Sorry about that, bro,” he said, in a condescending manner. “You’re supposed to dodge the ball, not get hit by it. That’s why they call it dodgeball.” I had to admit, that’s the smartest he’s ever sounded.

“Whatever, you dumb jock,” I scoffed, ignoring his “advice” as he and his jock friends walked by. I wasn’t sure if they were snickering at his lame attempt for a joke or at me, but I didn’t really care. I doubt that they had much for brains either, with only sports and sex being the only thing keeping their testosterone-ridden minds running.

I glared over at Kyle while he was changing. I had to give him credit. He was very handsome, and he knew it, but that just made me hate him even more. He was a guy who people either loved or hated, but his arrogant fuckboy attitude would be a turn-off for anyone who wasn’t as shallow as him. I began to wonder why he had to be the one gifted with such a nice body. If I was as strong as him, what would I do?

I finished changing into my regular school attire, but I felt the urge to go to the bathroom. By the time I finished emptying my bladder, the locker room was completely empty. Amidst the ghost town, something caught my eye.

I noticed a door that wasn’t there earlier at the end of the hallway opposite of me. It looked out of place compared to anything I’ve seen in the school. It was crimson with a silver knob. I could hear something coming from the other side of the door, but I couldn’t make out anything. It didn’t sound like construction.

For some reason, I almost felt like it was calling out to me. Even though I needed to get to my next class, I needed to know what was behind the door. My curiosity got the best of me as I put my hand on the handle. It was warm, but not enough to burn my hand. I hesitated for a moment before opening the door and I took my first steps in.

I tried to gather my bearings in this foreign room. The room was very warm, steamy almost, with the smell of sweat lingering in the air. It smelled like our locker room and the heat was far too much, almost like a sauna. I knew I wouldn’t last long in this heat, so I figured it was best to head back to class. I turned around, but instead of reaching for the door, I walked face first into a wall. …This was where I came from, right?

“Hello? Helloooo!” I shouted, hoping someone would come to my rescue. The only voice that responded was my own as my words echoed throughout the room. I sighed. Looks like I’ll have to find my own way out.

I realized that this would not be easy as I looked ahead. I saw rows of lockers all around me and to my horror, the maze stretched out further than I could possibly imagine. This room alone looked larger than the school itself! Why did the school need this many lockers? I decided to follow the line of lockers to find out if there was an exit at the end. I started to hear a buzzing sound, not from the sounds of the lights, but from a different source, along with a voice so quiet that I couldn’t understand what it was saying. I honestly felt like I was hallucinating. Perhaps the ball Kyle threw at me actually put me in a coma.

I followed the row of lockers, the numbers increasing with every step. The bold red lockers complemented the dark walls and white ceiling. As I walked forward, I was tempted by turns and corners, filled with even more lockers. I did not want to risk getting even more lost so I simply walked as close to a straight line as possible. I found myself sweating profusely, drenching my T-shirt and jeans. As I was getting more and more sweaty, I was also getting dehydrated, and there seemed to be no sign of any water fountains. I was surprised that they had not installed any, but that wasn’t even the weirdest thing because nothing made sense here.

My heart sunk as I entered an empty room, a dead end. If whoever built this place had any sense of interior design, there would be a door here. I observed my surroundings, but there seemed to be no sign of any way out. This was going to be longer than I thought. I realized I would have to give an explanation to my teacher about why I was so late, but she would never believe an excuse like this. That is, if I can even find a way out of here. I looked down, surprised to find a bottle of some sort. It looked to be some sort of beverage. It looked to be a sandy brown. I would’ve preferred…no…I desperately needed water, but I would be a fool to ignore any amount of hydration.

I untwisted the cap, and was surprised by the strange smell of the liquid. It didn’t smell foul, but it didn’t smell sweet either. I closed my eyes and took a sip, but I grimaced at the mixture of bitterness and saltiness. The chalky taste lingered in my mouth, but at least it made me feel more alert. Despite the unpleasant taste, I knew it was better than nothing, so I chugged the bottle before dropping it on the ground, making sure not to miss any drop. To my surprise, I felt more full of energy than I ever had before. But for some reason, as my body was starting to digest the drink, I felt as though the room was shrinking before my eyes. Wait, was I getting taller? Maybe this place is messing with my head. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind being a couple inches taller. Maybe Kyle would stop picking on me if I was on his level.

The downside, however, was that I was starting to feel even more sweaty to the point that my clothes were now flooded to the point of no return. I knew they would smell of sweat forever no matter how many times I washed them, so I figured that stripping would be the better option. I can always change back into my gym clothes when I get back. I desperately hoped that I was all alone here so no one would see me in this embarrassing state. I looked at the locker at the end of the room. 1000. The numbers went up to at least 1000? This had to be some kind of sick joke. I was frustrated, but I knew I had to retrace my steps in order to find a way out of here.

A strange idea entered my head after walking into several more dead ends, seemingly out of nowhere. If I went to my own locker, would I find something there? It sounded like a stupid idea since I would miss out on other potential paths, but it just felt right. Besides, I had no other leads. My locker number was 0136. I continued walking back trying to test if my hypothesis was correct. My body was trying to fight back against my exhaustion and my mind was trying to stop itself from being drowned out by the subliminal noise. It felt like this place was messing with me in some way. I had to find a way out of here.

Eventually, my eyes lit up as I turned a corner to find lockers numbered in the 0100s. I felt my body guiding me until I found a locker that appeared to be left open. All of the others were closed, so maybe it had some significance? 0133…0134…0135…0136! I chuckled at the coincidence that my locker would be the one that was different like I knew it would be. Inside, I found yet another one of those same drinks from before, a piece of paper, and a…red jockstrap? I chugged the drink desperate to feel hydrated. For some reason, it tasted better than I remembered. The paper appeared to be some kind of riddle.

“Only this way is right.”

“The combination will show you the light.”

Turns out I was right to come this way. For some reason, it seems like this room was made specifically for me. I was more curious about the second line. “The combination will show you the light.” If my locker number was what led me here, then surely my locker combination would be the next hint. 05-13-34. 51334? I shuddered, knowing that my journey would be a lot longer than I had anticipated. Hopefully this helps me escape from this hell.

I started to wonder who wrote this, but I didn’t even know who built this room in the first place. None of this makes any sense. I might not even be in school anymore. This could be some sort of pocket dimension. I could be dreaming, or I could be in a coma. I looked back in the locker, my eyes fixated on the red jockstrap. It looked like it had already been worn and was a size too big for my skinny frame, but for some reason, I felt an urge to put it on. I stripped out of my dripping boxers and put on the jockstrap.

To my surprise, it actually fit perfectly around my crotch area. I expected to feel uncomfortable, but instead I felt liberated. If only there was a mirror in here. My cock bulged as it stretched out the red fabric. I could’ve sworn it looked bigger, but I knew I was just imagining things. Regardless, I felt faster and full of stamina and virility.

I was not an athlete though. Only the jocks wore jockstraps, and I hated them, but I couldn’t even remember why. Why was I so mad at Kyle earlier? My memories of today started to blur. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t remember anything. I had no comprehension of time anymore. Who knows how long I have been in here. I sprinted ahead down the hallway, with a newfound sense of energy that I had never felt before, as I needed to find locker 51334. The heavy sound of my big feet created a steady rhythm, almost like a drum. My body seemed to move on its own like it was on autopilot.

As I ran forward, the audio grew louder, yet the words remained just as shrouded as they were before. Despite that, I felt like I started to understand the words deep down. A weird contradiction, I know. Wherever the source of the noise was, it had to be coming from that direction. I knew in my heart that this was the right way.

I kept on going for what could’ve been hours. Who even knows at this point. The concept of time was foreign to this place. If you told me I was gone for a week, I’d believe you. I kept on finding the same drinks from earlier on benches scattered around. They were the only thing keeping my head in the game. They gave me strength, but eventually I stopped seeing them as I became reminded by the intense heat of the room and of all the dead ends I had run into. I had to be in the 40000s as I began to feel fatigue again and it felt like my body was finally about to give in. My body felt sore and swollen as if I was still recovering from a workout. Workout? Since when did I care about the gym? Maybe this jockstrap was rubbing off on me more than I thought. But I’ll never be like Kyle or the other jocks, I assured myself.

I kept going. My body was pushing itself to the limit, while my mind started to wander. I became worried that I was gonna miss the game that was on tonight. Me and the bros were going to watch it together and I didn’t want to miss it. I couldn’t even comprehend how unnatural these thoughts felt. I should be thinking about playing the new update for my favorite MMO, not watching sports. But bros always come first…

I felt like I was going crazy, like this giant locker room maze was having an effect on me. I was awakened from my trance by a sudden realization. I needed to get to practice. It was like an alarm clock went off in my head. The last thing I wanted was to get dropped from the team due to poor attendance. This renewed sense of urgency was what kept me going instead of passing out from the heat and exhaustion.

At long last, I was greeted by a room that was surprisingly familiar to me. It felt like a second home to me. It was like the actual locker room in my school, but on a larger scale. I looked at the number next to me. 50000. This had to be the right way. I was almost there. The background noise was at its loudest here, but I still could not find any source, but at this point I didn’t mind it. It honestly helped me calm down a little. I checked every locker in this large room, until I saw it. 51334. It was half open, so I pried it open, with a sense of strength that I had never felt before. Inside the locker, I found another note and a larger bottle of the same drink. I gulped every drop down like I had just found an oasis. This one tasted better even compared to the rest. I read the note, hoping to be free from my prison.

“Inside the locker you will hide”

“The way back is on the flipped side”

I had to get in the locker? It was a weird instruction, but I followed the orders. I was surprised I was able to fit into it with my bulky build. I turned to the other side to read what it said. My eyes widened as I felt a sense of dread run down my spine.

“Close the door but don’t be shocked”

“When you wake up, you’ll be a jock!”

Shit, I didn’t want to become one of the jocks! I valued my intelligence too much to stoop down to their level. But it was already too late as the door shut itself on its own and I felt the ground below me vibrate. Was this truly the only way out or was I doomed to join them from the start? I tried to break my way free, but my strength dwindled as my eyes dulled and I passed out from exhaustion.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up on one of the benches to the sound of metal and heavy chatter. To my relief, I was finally back in the real world. The football team was getting ready for practice. Damn, I really did miss the whole day. To make things worse, Kyle was standing right over me. Great. Despite everything though, I actually kinda missed him. That was probably the first sign that something was very wrong with me.

“Bro, wake up!” he said as he shook me. I looked down. I was dripping in sweat and I was wearing only my jockstrap. The fact that I was wearing the same red jockstrap was proof that it wasn’t a dream. “You alright dude? Coach says you were passed out here for hours!”

I regained my consciousness, surprised to see him concerned for me. “Bro, you’ll never guess what happened. I was in this, like, weird maze, dude. Lockers everywhere.” I was genuinely shocked by the words that came out of my mouth. I sounded like a total dudebro.

“Bro, are you high? What are you talking about?” Kyle chuckled at how absurd I sounded. I felt embarrassed because I honestly sounded as stupid as him.

“I’m not lying, bro! There was a door right there!” I got up and pointed towards where the door should be. It wasn’t there. I looked like I was insane.

“You sure you’re okay after gym, bro? I figured you’d catch that dodgeball since you’re such a good wide receiver. Must’ve gone too hard. Practice should help clear your head.”

“Practice? Wide receiver? What the fuck are you talking about?” I didn’t play any sports. Before today, I didn’t even know any teams outside of famous ones and the ones local to us. I didn’t know any positions, any rules, or any players. If that was the case, then why did it all feel so familiar to me?

“Did you lose your memory or some shit? Let me refresh you, bro. You play football and you’re our wide receiver. You hang out with me and the boys every day. You’re a total jock, bro. You’re hardly a genius, but surely that rings a bell, right dude?” My eyes became fixated on his charming blue eyes, and I felt myself sink into them as if they were the ocean, as he reminded me about my place in the world. Finally, things started to make sense…but…

What the fuck? You hated Kyle. You didn’t play football. You weren’t friends! But for some reason, that didn’t seem right.

You loved Kyle. He was one of your best friends. You guys played football together. You guys basically ruled the school. You didn’t need to think much because you compensated with raw strength and power. Brawn over brains, bro. You were a jock and you always will be one.

“Huhu…Now you’re making sense bro,” I chuckled. I only now realized how much I changed, with how deep my voice was. How much of a cocky douchebag I looked with that smirk plastered on my face. How much bigger and stronger and taller I was. How toned and perfect every muscle in my jock body was. I should hate this, but why does it feel so good? “I had a dream that I was someone else. A total nerd, bro. It was awful.”

“That person never existed. This is who you were and always will be. Just think back to when we met, bro.” He said it with his usual cocky grin, but I felt no malice from it. I assumed he was gaslighting me into believing that I lived a different life, but he seemed genuine. I remembered him cracking up at one of my dumb jokes at practice and we started hanging out both in and out of school. Memories of the practices and football games and parties we shared filled my mind and I smiled as I looked fondly back on those days. No…I shouldn’t remember this. But for some reason, it all felt real to me, like I accidentally stumbled into some parallel universe where I was one of Kyle’s jock bros.

I felt any semblance of my former self lose control as my jock self remembered that he was the only me. I was an intruder in my jock body, someone that was never there and shouldn’t be there. I felt my thoughts slow down as my new self started overwriting any old memories with his own, and I started to remember who I really was, a jock. I wanted to die inside, watching me become another asshole jock just like Kyle, but as I was fading away, I started to remember why I liked being a jock so much in the first place. I got to be big, strong, and popular. I could fuck anyone I wanted with my massive cock. Who cared if I was a little dense? Definitely outweighed being a fucking nerd. I knew it was the jock in me talking, but it didn’t matter anymore because that’s all I was now. My cock bulged further in my jockstrap as my conscious mind was engulfed by my real self.

“Sorry bro, it’s just been a crazy day. Let's get ready for practice.”

“You’re going to practice in just that? Haven’t gotten off yet today, bro?” Kyle chuckled, pointing at my red jockstrap, which was already leaking with precum. I became embarrassed as I noticed the damp stain on my favorite jockstrap. And that Kyle was staring right at my 9 inch bulge.

“Nah, bro. I gotta get changed. Why are you looking at my dick, bro?” I became defensive, not comfortable with one of my bros staring at my erect cock. Kyle was hot and all, but this just felt wrong to me.

Kyle stammered, looking for an excuse. I could’ve sworn that his bulge grew as well in his tight football pants. “I just never realized how big it is, bro. No homo though.” He snickered, trying to ease the sexual tension. “Come on, Coach will be pissed if we take too long. Probably will make us run extra laps.” Before we left, I took one look in the mirror to admire my awesome body before joining Kyle and the others.

I had been playing football ever since I was in middle school so it’s no surprise that I was a natural. I worked up a serious sweat, but it was nothing I wasn’t used to with Coach’s exercises. He worked us to the bone every day. When I came home, my mom was cooking dinner and she asked me how practice was, and I told her good as usual with a smile on my face. For a second, I was surprised my mom knew I played football, but then I remembered that my parents were always supportive of my athletic career. They always dropped their plans to cheer me on at my games.

Later, Kyle invited me and the bros over to watch the game. I went over there as I had done many times before and I was greeted by my bros, people who I’ve known for just as long as Kyle. After all, If they were his bros, they were my bros. We laughed and joked around as we always did until the game started.

We gathered into Kyle’s room, big enough for seven guys, but man did I forget how much we reeked after practice. We always shouted a ton during the game and I’m honestly surprised we never got any noise complaints from the neighbors. It was like our own little frat party hosted in Kyle’s room. We got really into it, but we were devastated when the opposing team scored in the last minute to gain the lead and win the game. A wave of sadness and anger filled the air as everyone started to leave. Everyone but me. Kyle told me to stay for a little bit longer.

“Are you gonna make me feel better or what?” he ordered. He was really upset about the loss.

“How, bro?” I responded. Did he want me to crack a joke for him? Give him a bro hug?

“I figured you remembered. I need someone to relieve my stress.” He grabbed his massive cock in his shorts and wiggled it around, helping me put two and two together. “We found out one drunk night how good of a cocksucker you are, so you agreed to ‘lend me a hand’ if I ever need it. Don’t worry, this is our little secret.”

“Oh, sorry bro. I completely forgot.” God, that was a wild night. It was an embarrassing request, but I knew I was just helping a brother out. I got on my knees and serviced Kyle as he made himself comfortable. He grabbed the back of my head with his firm palms, covered with callouses from years of pumping iron, and pushed his girthy shaft deeper into the depths of my mouth. I was surprised at my lack of a gag reflex as this mass of meat clogged my throat. I swallowed load after load of his hot, sticky semen until we had enough.

“Gotta say, bro, you suck dick better than like 90 percent of chicks I’ve been with. You sure you’re not a little faggy?” he teased. I laughed and rebuked his claims. I’m sure even some straight guys would be tempted by him and his impressive rod, and I’m no different. We quickly changed the subject and we pretended like that never happened. Neither of us wanted the other to know how much we enjoyed it.

To this day, I don’t know what the purpose of the jockrooms was. Doesn’t really matter though. As far as I’ve known, I’ve always been a jock and that’s all anyone has ever seen me as. It is real though. It was after gym class a few weeks later. When we were changing, I saw a nerd, Kevin, walk down the same hallway I did at one point. I felt like I knew him at one point, but that obviously wasn’t true. Why would I hang out with someone like him? I hid around the corner and watched as he approached the red door. I smirked as he put his hand on the door and opened it, taking his first steps into his new life. If you can’t beat us, you might as well join us.

I was eager to see Kevin at practice later. He woke up on the same bench I did, wearing a jockstrap like me, almost completely unrecognizable from the person he was hours ago. He took a moment to adjust, but we helped him remember how much of a jock he was. Once a jock, always a jock. I will never understand why the two of us thought we were nerds before. After all, I’ve known Kev most of my life and I was the one who introduced him to Kyle and the others. He’s been my best friend since 3rd grade and we were inseparable. We were practically in sync on the field. It felt awesome knowing that we were the kings of the school, and whoever hated us was just jealous that they’re not us.

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