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angelwithdemonictendencies · 2 months

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wake me from this eternal slumber, rumor has it, a kiss is all it takes; i'm no fairytale but your lips might make me one.

jh86 x reader: you've sworn off frat boys, but maybe just one more?

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), oral sex (m on f) yay! we love exceptions, fingering, hair pulling and lips and limbs and all my usual stuff (you guys know what i'm about). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: well, favorites, my ex was in pike in undergrad, so you can thank him for 18k worth of a fantasy-level frat romance (i know, it's too much, i need to cut it down, but i can't. this is how i'm dealing with my breakup. leave me be). and, actually, don't thank him. thank me, because i worked really, really hard on this <3. there are a billion things that i ask you to take for granted, like how i included too many side characters, so i know it will be confusing, but i needed sleazy nh13 in there, okay? and i needed starboy pitcher lh43, and cc22 falling for his postgame reporter, and tz11 not being able to catch, and qh43 being a pawn in a president x president love story featuring alex turcotte. all of it was necessary for my healing process. i wanted to write something in which someone can drop into your life and rewrite all of the things you believe to be true. some star-crossed shit. so, this is my best shot. what is love, after all, but leaving your window open for fratboy jh86 to climb into? i was never actually in greek life, so all of this is based on what my friends have told me (sam is based on my irl best friend, fun fact). forgive me for any plot holes and inconsistencies. please, please, tell me what you think, because i love when you do, and tell me what you want next. thank you for your support. thank you for indulging my silly whims and most delusional daydreams. tell your snakes i love them. getting pretty busy up here in the real world, but until next time. go canucks. all my love).

this day, the first day of classes, had been a real disaster, honestly. what had been the worse part, even? it was hard to decide, with so many natural contenders.

would it be the alarm clock of your roommate, which had gone off for twenty minutes, until you had to get up yourself and shake her awake? or maybe the pop quiz in your lecture, on the very first day, when you forgot to do the reading? but, no, we can't forget the back to back to back texts from that guy, the one who mistook your general friendliness as romantic interest.

it had been a terrible day, genuinely, but this might be the worst of it, you thought, as you stood outside the tke house, on the sidewalk, waiting for your friends. your friends, who said they would be out ten minutes ago.

it was getting kind of brisk outside, and your outfit, compliant with the finance bros and business hoes theme, wasn't keeping you very warm. you looked down at your phone, tried to will a text from one of them into existence. you just wanted to go home, which, honestly, you probably should have already done by now. your sorority house was maybe a five minute walk down the row, but you didn't want to abandon your friends, and you didn't really want to make the walk alone, in the dark.

you could go back inside, you knew. but, this day had sucked, and you weren't in the mood to dance on an elevated surface tonight.

you opened the text conversation with your roommate, typed almost out? and hit send, before a deep voice pulled your head up.

"miss, is that an open container?" you looked up to find a stout officer of campus security shining his flashlight on you and your red plastic cup.

of course, because today was terrible, today would be the day that security cracks down on their no-open-containers-on-the-row rule. of course.

you looked into your solo cup, swirled around the pink liquid. what could you even say this was? the officer could probably smell the vodka in it from where he stood, a few feet away. honestly, it was probably better to just come clean. you'd get, what, a citation? hopefully a warning, if you could conjure up some tears?

you sighed, opened your mouth to spew some sob story, but you were cut off by some goofy voice coming from the door.

"there you are, baby!"

both you and the officer turned to face the voice, now an approaching figure.

your eyes narrowed as you tried to make out a face from the dim street light. you certainly were not anyone's baby. and you were fairly certain the only people who could have been wondering where you were would be the friends you came with, who had much more feminine voices.

before you could tell this guy he had the wrong idea, though, he slung a heavy arm around your shoulders, used it to pull you close to him before pressing a kiss to the side of your head, gentle, doting, fleeting.

you were about to shove this guy off of you, as he had obviously mistaken you for someone else.

"thanks for holding my drink for me," he said, then, taking your cup from your hand and downing it in one go.

you swallowed, your mind buzzing, not just with confusion but with the weight of his body against yours, the ghost of heat from his lips on your temple, the slightly muddled sandalwood scent of him so close. was he covering for you, this stranger? this stranger, who definitely could see your face, now, so there was no one he could be mistaking you for.

was he just being nice?

"'course, baby," you mustered, letting yourself lean into his embrace, hooking an arm around his waist. if he was going to get this officer off of your back, you'd let him.

your savior turned to face the shorter man in front of you both, as if noticing him for the first time. "oh, good evening, officer," he said, ever the gentleman. "can i help you?"

as the officer explained his presence with a gruff tone, you turned your neck to look at the face of the man who currently had his arm around you, whose lips on your forehead you could still feel like a purpling bruise.

you looked up at him, and your stomach flipped, because he was just so pretty. so much so that it flooded your gaze, made him hard to take in all at once. that fairytale profile, cut jaw, sharp cheekbones, soft slope of a nose. long, dark lashes that framed light blue eyes. grown out hair that curled around the brim of his backwards baseball cap, which read the letters tke in bold font. full, pink lips you had the sudden urge to tug on with your teeth.

uh oh, the gossip in your head whispered to her friends. we've seen this before. we know how this ends.

you could have shushed her.

"as you can see, officer, there's no liquid here, at least not anymore," the tke boy above you said with the voice of an experienced sweet-talker, smooth and sugary. "we wish we could be of more help, don't we, baby?"

he turned his gaze down to you, meeting your eyes directly for the first time. oceanic amusement met your careful skepticism, so electric and charged you swore the streetlight above you began to flicker.

"sure do," you said, reluctantly fixing your gaze on the officer and away from the mesmerizing face next to you.

the short man looked unconvinced, but switched his flashlight off anyways.

"have a good night, sir," you added, to which he muttered something and walked in the other direction.

you waited until he was out of earshot before lifting that warm arm from around your shoulders, crossing your own arms over your chest. "right," you began, "so, do i know you, or something?"

he tilted his head, let a bemused smile slant across his face, completely lopsided, completely endearing. "or something," he said, his eyes glinting, brimming over with mirth.

you furrowed your brow, shifted on your feet. "why did you come out here, then?" you asked. "and what was that whole act for?"

he sucked on his teeth for a moment, during which you took in his whole frame, his wide shoulders, tall build, strong stance.

uh oh is right, you thought to yourself, clasping your hands behind your back.

he shrugged, the movement making the muscles in his shoulders tense. you looked at your feet. "saw you come out here by yourself," he said, simply. "just wanted to make sure nothing was wrong."

you narrowed your eyes, which made his gaze shimmer again.

"then i saw you with the security guy, and he's been camping out recently for their open container policy, so i figured i'd-"

"you figured you'd pretend that we're together?" you raised a brow. "awful dramatic, don't you think? could have just smacked the cup from my hand." you cringed internally as soon as you said this. you'd felt his hand on your side, and there was no chance that soft touch was capable of anything so harsh.

he just took a step closer to you, though, and part of you wanted to back away, but you didn't. you couldn't. "maybe i had selfish motives," he added, "maybe i wanted him to think i could pull a pretty girl like you, hm?"

you gave a slight scoff, the smallest shake of your head, before looking up at him again, finding him closer, looking at you like you were something special. something he wouldn't find again.

"okay, you can turn off the charm, now," you warned, more for your own sake than his. "what's your name?"

he stuck out his hand to shake yours, which felt wholly odd, given you could still feel his lips on your skin, like a brand, a scar. "i'm jack," he said, and you took his hand, gave it a shake as you offered him your own name in return.

"and you're in tke?" you asked, half-hoping he would laugh, nod you off, say that fraternities were stupid. hoping he wouldn't be a frat brother, so that he might still be on the table. so that you wouldn't have to walk away from him knowing exactly how he would hurt you if you gave him too much of a chance, too much of yourself.

he nodded though, and you could have sighed in disappointment. he was so, so pretty, but pretty wasn't good enough for your no frat boys rule. not after last time. "are you in a sorority?"

"no," you said immediately, shaking your head. this was a lie, you were in alpha phi, but you were hoping he'd lose interest as soon as you denied it, as so many greek-life boys did.

the light didn't blink out from jack's eyes though. "you must have a walk ahead of you then, if you're not on the row," he said. "i'll walk with you, it's dark."

you peered up at him, dubious. what was his angle, here? what would he have over you if you said yes?

luckily, you didn't have to answer, because you heard your roommate's voice from the door, now walking towards you. "'m so sorry, didn't see your text," she said, walking right past jack and pulling you in for a hug. "of course we can go. let's go back to the house, yeah?"

you nodded, returned her hug.

"the house?" jack's voice asked, to which your roommate pulled away from you, looked at him.

"yeah, a-phi," she said, skeptical. "um, who is this?" she elbowed you.

"this is jack," you explained, "he saved me from a safety citation. jack, this is my roommate, sam."

he nodded to her, which she returned. if jack had put together that you had just lied to his face about being in greek life, he didn't call you out on it, only smiling that goofy grin at you again, the one that awoke butterflies in your stomach, the one that had the street light rolling its eyes at you.

"well, jack, we're off," sam said, linking her arm in yours.

"goodnight, ladies," he said as the two of you set off down the sidewalk. "until you next need saving, baby."

you shook in a disbelieving laugh.

"baby?" sam whisper-screamed at you.

"i'll explain later," you told her.

you did explain later, that night, when the two of you were taking off your makeup in your mirroring vanities.

"i'm sorry, what?" sam said when you had finished recalling the night. "he quite literally kissed you?"

you flushed, waved her off. "barely," you said, "on the head."

"okay, sure," she mused, patting toner into her face. "sure, as if this isn't the longest you've talked about a guy since last year!"

you sighed. "it doesn't matter," you said, trying to make yourself believe it. "he's in tke. and i've sworn off frat guys, you know this."

"oh, i know this," she replied, "but rules are made to be broken."

"that's not right," you sing-songed.

"don't talk back to your president," she sung right back at you, using her position in the sorority as a trump-card, as she was so prone to doing.

"he's probably just like the rest of them," you reminded her, and yourself, "he's charming and sweet and lovely until he gets what he wants, and then he's gone."

the words hurt as you spoke them, jagged and sharp in your throat, like shards of glass. it hurt to think about your history with frat guys, the ones you'd let get close to you.

the guy from pike whom you had been seeing, sort of, for half a year, who had relished in the chase of it all, been so caring until you finally slept with him. and then he acted like you were nothing, not even worth a text. he had acted like you were crazy, delusional, for thinking your relationship went any deeper than sex.

he had all but laughed at you when you had suggested anything different. "i don't, like, do labels," he had told you. "you know that, right?"

you shuddered, now, thinking about how stupid, how utterly childish he had made you feel. thinking about how you had given the next guy, the one from lambda, a chance, about how he had done the same thing, with slightly different words, on a slightly different timeline.

you refused to feel that way again.

sam just shrugged. "i don't know, love," she said, "the way he was looking at you, back there, i swear, it was special."

you scrunched up your nose. "i'm not changing my mind. it's not worth it. he's not worth it."

something in the back of your mind twisted, though, because there was a trace of disbelief in your tone.

"whatever you say," sam said.

"now, tell me about your progress on project peace treaty," you said, hoping to change the subject, referring to sam's crush on the tke president.

one of your other friends had come up with the moniker after sam had been voted president herself, like a relationship between the two leaders would be some kind of deal between nations.

sam pretended to faint in her chair. "i don't know how much more obvious i can be," she whined. "i swear, i can't tell if he's just quiet or if he wants me to get the fuck away from him."

you rolled your eyes. "there's no way he's not into you," you said, and you meant it - sam was your best friend, and the best person you knew. if there was a way not to like her, you were unfamiliar with it.

she just shook her head. "you haven't talked to alex," she said, solemn. "he's, like, impossible to read." she shot you a look. "not all of us can have a tke brother wrapped around our finger after meeting once."

you threw a pillow at her, laughed her off, tried not to dream that night about starry blue eyes and soft lips on your temple.

the week passed, slowly, defined by welcome back mixers and new classes, new faces.

before you knew it, it was friday. you were exhausted, but you only had two classes today, the first of which passed quickly, the second of which was ballroom dance 101.

you had already had your first ballroom class on wednesday, so you knew it was fairly laid back, a good way to get some unit credits, a place to move around a bit before the weekend. you were, however, taking it alone. sam had been planning on taking it with you, but then an opening for a class she really needed had come up, and you had insisted you'd be fine on your own, that obviously her major credits were more important than this random elective dance class.

and it was fine, truly, if not a little less fun without her there. you waited patiently for the instructor to arrive, watching the little circles of friends stretch and chat. you leaned your back against the wall, crossed your arms over your chest, let your mind slow until you felt a presence next to you.

you glanced to your left, felt your heart stutter as you did a double take. "jack?" you asked, almost incredulous. if he looked pretty in the night, he looked downright distracting in the daylight, today in khakis and a polo shirt.

"hey, baby," he said, maybe a trace of smugness in his voice as he mirrored your lean, your posture. "how're you?"

this felt like a trap. he felt like a trap. your eyes narrowed. "you're in ballroom? since when?"

"since i switched into it, yesterday," he answered, simply and plainly, before his mouth quirked up. "is that what the experts are callin' it? just 'ballroom?'" he gave a facetious nod. "i like it. drop the 'dance,' 's too bulky."

you rolled your eyes, but laughed nonetheless. "we went over this kind of expert vocabulary on day one," you said with a shrug, "sorry you missed it."

the instructor clapped her hands, signaling her arrival, before beginning a stretching sequence on the floor.

"you're gonna dance in khakis?" you whispered to jack, who had taken the spot next to you as you both leaned forward to touch your toes.

"was i supposed to bring my tux?" he asked, which made you choke down a laugh. "or are we doing some kind of breakdancing i'm unaware of?"

"what, you don't have your handstand mastered?" you teased, "if you insist, but that's the foundation we're building from, just warning you."

"students, focus!" the instructor demanded, shooting you a glare, which you acknowledged with a nod before sharing a guilty smile with jack, like kids caught laughing too hard on the field trip bus.

after class, the both of you were planning on walking back to the row, so you just walked together, chatted pleasantly. the street was pretty in the daylight in a way it wasn't at night. there was something to be said, you thought, about being able to see everything clearly, about knowing exactly what you were looking at. and sure, there was beauty in mystery, and there was beauty in danger, but there was beauty in comfort, too.

"so, do you think i could get your number?" jack said, as you both turned the corner, the tke house now in clear view. his smile was easy. "for all the questions 'm gonna have about the tango?"

you let out a little laugh, thought for a moment. it was just your number, after all, and he said it was for class. it probably didn't mean anything. it was probably safe. "okay," you said, taking out your phone, handing it to him, "sure." your mouth quirked up as he put in his information, sent himself a text. "don't know how much help 'm gonna be, though."

he handed your phone back to you, that halfway grin on his pretty face. "you're right," he said, making his way towards his front door. "if anything, you'll just distract me from the steps, lookin' like that and all."

you looked down, shook your head, felt the gentle heat of a blush on your face. "focus up, then," you chided, gripping the straps of your backpack.

"oh, i'm focused, baby," he called out, "just not on dance."

you rolled your eyes at him as he smiled at your reaction, both of you saying your goodbyes. you heard his front door shut only when you had completely turned away, began to walk the few houses down the street.

when you got back to your room, you flopped down on your bed, breathing into your soft comforter, until you heard the door swing open again. you looked up.

"all good?" sam asked, raising a brow. she threw her bag and keys on the floor by her desk, slipped off her shoes, hopped up onto her bed, opposite yours.

"yeah," you said, sighed, then laughed, short and breathy. "remember that guy from last weekend?"

her eyes went wide, now alert. her posture straightened. "uh, your valiant hero in the face of danger? of course."

you laughed, then, more naturally this time, hugged a pillow to your chest. "he's in my dance class." you looked down at your hand, examined your fingernails. "and i gave him my number."

sam squinted at you. "okay," she said, slowly. "i know what i think about this, i think you know what i think about this." she tugged her hair elastic down, freeing her hair from the ponytail it had been in. "what do you think about this?"

you sucked on your teeth, thought for a moment. "i don't know," you said. "i guess i'm just confused. and worried. and i don't think i want him to text me first, but i also kind of want-"

a buzz from your phone interrupted you, and sam tilted her head back and groaned. "that's him, isn't it?" she asked. "that's definitely him."

and it shouldn't have been, you thought, there was no way it was him, because it had been what, ten minutes? you knew frat guys, and you knew it couldn't be him.

it was.

forgot to ask if you were coming tonight, he had texted, followed by told you you're distracting lol.

"i knew it," sam said, shaking her head, "i'm like an oracle. it's a gift, i know, but it's also a burden." she gestured for you to speak. "what's he say?"

"asked if i'm coming tonight," you said, looking up at her, "in all lowercase. and he said lol."

she waved you off. "non-issue," she declared.

"but, like," you pushed, giving her a look, "who taught him to use all lowercase?"

"doesn't matter," sam continued, "he called you baby and kissed you on the forehead. he gets a lowercase pass."

"so you're the oracle and the lawmaker?" you asked, teasing.

sam nodded seriously. "and the president," she finished.

you laughed, then sighed, began typing.

"what're you saying?" sam asked, leaning forward on her bed, as if she would be able to read your screen.

"just that 'm not going," you said. not tonight sry, you sent, followed by you might want to get that distraction thing checked out.

sam nodded. "what was their theme tonight? something bad, right?"

"country bros and rodeo hoes," you answered with a grimace.

"who the hell is in their little think tank?" sam asked, shaking her head, "'m gonna tell alex if they do the bros/hoes thing again a phi isn't coming."

you were nodding in agreement when your phone buzzed again. then you'll be up at a reasonable time tomorrow? he had asked, followed by any chance you wanna come watch my friends' baseball fall game?, followed by maybe more exposure will help w my distraction problem :).

you bit your lip, looked up at sam. "what?" she asked.

"have plans tomorrow morning?" you said as you typed. thanks for the invite, you sent, followed by can i bring sam? and can you bring alex?

"of course not," sam said, "it's saturday morning."

as long as you'll be there, you can bring anyone you want, he texted back, followed by alex is in!

see you there :) you said in a final response.

the field @ 9, he sent, followed by thank you!

your brow furrowed at this, because what was he thanking you for? what had you promised him, in this interaction, besides just seeing him? surely that wasn't enough to warrant a thank you?

you cleared your throat, tossed your phone aside. "well, you do now," you said to sam. "we're going to baseball tomorrow morning."

sam groaned. "those guys suck."

"alex is coming," you tried.

"i love baseball!" sam said, straightening again. "and soph is covering it for the paper, so we can support her, too."

you laughed. "so easily convinced, eh?"

"you don't wanna talk to me about being easily persuaded," she sing-songed. visions of easy grins and high cheekbones flashed across your mind, and you knew she was right, so you let it rest.

the next morning, as the two of you walked to the baseball field, sam was reminding you about the plight of being the president.

"we've warned her a million times about what she's posting," she told you, out of breath, referring to one of the freshman who didn't seem to understand your house's social media rules. "i don't know how many times i can remind her politely before i just start smacking cans out of her hand when someone takes their phone out."

you laughed as you rounded the corner by the field entrance. "i say resort to violence," you said, "i hear it's always the answer."

sam groaned while you smiled. "look, there they are," you whispered, spotting him and jack over by the stands. suddenly all evidence of sam's unhappiness was mysteriously gone. her face was the image of alert interest. you imagined you probably looked a little more nervous as you approached where they were standing.

"gentlemen," sam greeted the pair of them as you approached. "good to see you." she shot a wink alex's way. he appeared completely unaffected. "'specially you, handsome."

you and jack shared a gentle smile at sam's boldness, and it felt like a secret language, the kind you make up with your friend during a playdate, the kind everyone understands but that feels extra special, anyways.

"hi, sam," alex said, plainly, but you caught the faintest of a pleased look in his eyes before he nodded to you in greeting.

"thanks for coming," jack said, although when he said it he was speaking directly to you. there was a fluttery feeling in your stomach that you scolded into submission. then he offered you his arm, and you decided that the butterflies were probably here to stay, at least for now. "shall we?"

you exhaled, had the feeling that touching his extended arm would be like touching a loaded gun, dangerous and daunting, but you took it anyways, found him warm and comfortable against your side as you fell into step together. "i'm, uh," you started, testing your limits, "i'm happy you texted."

jack shook his hair from his face. his returning smile was nothing short of stunning. "yeah?" he asked, which had your mouth feeling a bit dry. "made you happy?" this fact seemed to make him especially pleased, proud.

"what, no arm for me, al?" came sam's abrupt voice from behind you. alex appeared horrified by this nickname. "that's fine, i have enough arms, anyways. three would be overdoing it, i think."

you coughed, turned your gaze back to jack. you felt the force of his attention like a suckerpunch to the stomach. "yeah, i, um," you tried, "thanks, i guess. for inviting us."

his soft features lit up with amusement at your uncertainty, obvious discomfort. he appeared just on the verge of laughter, but it didn't really feel like he was laughing at you, somehow. you knew what being on the bad end of joke was like, and this didn't feel like that. maybe you were just distracted by how his mouth curved around his almost-laugh, slow and delighted. "of course, baby," he said, and you sort of wished he would stop calling you that. for your mental well-being, he really needed to stop calling you that. he tugged you slightly closer to him as you made your way towards some empty seats in the stands. "can i have the seat next to you?"

and you let out a little laugh, then, as you sat down, made a motion as if to wipe off the seat to your left. "all yours," you said.

he hummed, something sparking in his eyes as he sat down, which had you rethinking your words, the gravity of them. you couldn't bring yourself to regret them, though, if you were honest. how could you regret them, when they made him look at you like this? like there was some worldly truth in the blush on your cheeks?

the cracking sound of a bat pulled you from your daze. "so, who do you know on the team?" you asked, eager to push the conversation towards something safer, something that didn't have your neck feeling hot, didn't make the arm rest between the two of you feel like something cruel.

he turned his head towards the field slowly, reluctantly. "11, 22," he said, pointing to where they stood, one tall, the other shorter, broader. "trevor and cole." he smiled. "they aren't very good."

you huffed a laugh. "they're on a d1 team," you chided, "so they must not be terrible."

"we still have no idea how they made the team," jack replied, shaking his head. "you'll see, swear trev can't catch a ball."

"and they only took on cole 'cause he's good with media," alex added from the seat on the other side of jack. "he's their backup backup catcher."

sam snapped her fingers. "cole, like cole caufield?" she asked, her eyes widening when alex nodded. sam looked at you. "he's the one soph's been talkin' about. the one she interviews all the time for the paper."

you laughed in recognition. your friend sophie covered almost every baseball game, and apparently a certain backup backup catcher had been giving her a lot of grief whenever she tried to get a useable quote.

"oh, and 43," jack said, pointing to the lanky kid on the pitcher's mound. his smile turned bashful. "'s luke, my younger brother."

your stomach flipped at how his gaze had softened. "didn't know you had siblings," you said, although you didn't know much about him, so you guessed that made sense.

he just nodded. "older brother, too, you might know him, actually."

"'s in tke with you?" you asked, to which jack made some affirmative sound.

"yeah," he said, "quinn, 's close with nico."

you hummed in recognition, picturing their faces, noticing the similarities. "right," you said, "you guys do look similar."

his smile turned indulgent as he tilted his head. "'m better looking though, right, baby?" he asked, and his voice dripped with confidence, but you felt a strange compulsion to reassure him, anyways, could somehow sense that this was important.

so you just ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, gauging what to say, here, how much you could reveal. "i think you're pretty, jack," you said, and it was soft, low, for him. your eyes caught on his for a blazing second. "you know i do." and it was true, you knew he was aware of the way he affected you.

his gaze grew hooded for a moment, which terrified you, a horror-movie jump scare, a reminder of the reason you made your no-frat-boy rule in the first place.

luckily, as always, sam had something to say. she scoffed. "don't know about that," she said, leaning back in her chair, crossing her legs over the seat in front of her. "quinn's a straight ten." she gave a satisfied smile, looked to her right. "say, al, d'you think you could set me up with him? you guys are close, right?"

alex didn't answer right away. he shifted slightly in his seat.

"c'mon, from one president to another, think you could help me out?" sam gave a dreamy sort of sigh. "he's got a real face on him, and ever since he's grown out his hair-"

"'m not setting you up with him," was alex's short reply, cutting sam off, not quite looking at her.

you knocked jack's knee with your own, mirroring smiles on your faces.

sam just pouted as the game started. "don't have to be such an ass about it," she said, but you could tell by her face that she had accomplished exactly what she had set out to.

you weren't really a baseball fan, but this particular game flew by, probably because of the shaggy-haired, full-lipped person sitting to your left.

the slow pace of the game was cut with conversations about the party tke threw last night (it was lame, jack insisted, and his knowing, shy grin gave you a hint as to the reason why), which led to a conversation about who picks the themes (a board of esteemed individuals, apparently).

"i know it's just nico," sam said, rolling her eyes. "tell him that if he keeps up with the bros and hoes thing a phi isn't coming."

this actually appeared to alarm alex. "you're not serious," he said.

"as death," sam said, nodding.

alex promptly took out his phone and started to text someone. you had the sneaking suspicion it was nico.

jack asked about what you did last night, which led you to talking about your favorite movies.

"you've never seen scream?" you asked, practically confused.

he just shook his head, something glinting in his eyes.

you scoffed. "you have to. it's the best."

"you'll have to show it to me, sometime, then," was his response, which had you blushing, which had you wanting to.

cole never went in, as was expected. he seemed to spend the majority of his time goofing off in the dugout, throwing paper cups at his teammates, then turning away like he had no idea how they'd been hit.

luke threw a great game. he was the kind of player that drew your attention, that you just knew was good, even if you didn't know anything about the sport.

trevor only batted once (he leaned his shoulder into the pitch and took his walk). as an outfielder, he didn't see a ton of action, only getting one real shot at a catch, of course fumbling an easy out, much to the dismay of his teammates.

cole put his head in his hands but welcomed his friend back to the dugout with open arms.

the game ended with a win for the good guys, and you found yourself sticking around, all because jack wanted to wait to congratulate his friends and brother. he extended a hand to you to help you up from your seat, his grip firm and warm against your palm.

your group of four walked down to where the players would exit. you were surprised to find the silence especially comfortable, easy.

at some point, jack slapped his thigh, lightly. "i meant to ask you, baby, what's your coffee order?"

you gave him a confused sort of look. "just hot coffee with oat milk," you answered, almost wary. "why?"

"for next time," he answered, like it was the easiest thing in the world, maybe the most obvious.

you swallowed down how touched you were by this. it felt like ginger, like something you know is good for you but that feels foreign, harsh, anyways. "how do you like your coffee, then?" you asked.

"sweet," he answered, with a smile that made you feel like he knew something you didn't. "really, really sweet."

a chaotic presence shook you both from the haze you'd settled into. "oh, hey, guys." you turned, found your friend sophie there, hands full with a clipboard and her bag and a voice recorder. she pushed her hair from her face. "how's it going?"

"all good, soph," sam answered. "you?"

sophie blew out a breath. "will be good once i get a couple quotes," she said, "just hope they don't give me twenty-two. readers want quotes from impact players, and-"

"sayin' 'm not an impact player, love?" came a goofy approaching voice. you turned again to see cole coming out of the now open exit gate.

sophie groaned. "tell me they're giving me someone else," she pleaded, to which cole grinned wider. "tell me they're giving me someone who played, today."

cole rolled his neck, cracked his knuckles. "might wanna turn on your recorder," he advised, "you're gonna wanna get this."

sophie just rolled her eyes and pulled him to the side, beginning a short interview about the game as you continued to wait.

shortly after, trevor walked out, grinning when he registered the group of you. jack slung an arm around your shoulders as his friend approached, which you noticed. which you would have questioned, maybe, if he didn't pull you into his side in the best of ways, if his touch didn't make you basically delirious. so delirious that you reached a hand up to hold his, dangling from your shoulder.

you could almost hear his satisfied smile as trevor clapped alex on the shoulder in greeting. "packed the stands for us, eh?" he asked, to which alex laughed.

it was the most emotion you'd seen from him. sam appeared very confused, crossed her arms over her chest. "great game," she said.

"yeah," jack continued. "my favorite part was that gorgeous catch in the sixth." he nodded. "seamless."

trevor scoffed, waved jack off. "almost had that one," he insisted. "was this close." he brought two fingers up to show just how close he had been to making that catch.

"you were not," came another voice. you recognized the tall figure as jack's younger brother.

jack clapped his hand in a handshake, congratulated him on the win. you echoed the sentiment, stuck out your hand in greeting, which he shook. "really good game," you said, "i'm-"

"know who you are," luke said, to which you furrowed your brow.

"how?" you asked. luke shared a look with his brother, halfway amused, halfway bored.

jack cleared his throat. "might've mentioned you," he said, but it came out like a mumble, a murmur into your hair.

your heart felt too big for your chest, for a moment. the peanut gallery around you faded away, suddenly it felt like it was just the two of you, standing here. just the two of you, in this universe. "been talkin' about me?" you whispered, and you couldn't help but lean a little more into his side, your grip on his hand growing a little more substantial, a little more confident.

because you'd been someone's secret before, someone's wyd text late at night, someone's nobody, really, someone's a friend. you knew what it felt like to be traded up for, like an old phone, to be the just old enough model that someone looked for someone else, someone newer.

it felt a little spectacular to be someone to write home about, someone to be seen with in broad daylight, someone to be gushed about to a brother. maybe it just felt spectacular to be that kind of someone for jack, in particular.

"a bit," jack breathed into your ear, the softest, probably most uncertain you'd heard him. like he didn't want to scare you away.

you bumped your hip against his. "real chatterbox, hm?" you whispered, adoring the ghost of a flush up his neck, the shy smile he couldn't seem to hide.

"only about stuff that matters," he said, and whatever joke you were going to say died in your mouth, tasted bitter.

luckily, cole and sophie approached, drawing your attention away.

"good to go?" alex asked, to which cole nodded, a smug smile on his face.

sophie huffed. "i don't know why they give me you every damn game," she exclaimed, shoving her recorder and clipboard into her bag. "as if you could give me a useable quote if your life depended on it."

cole scoffed. "i can't help it if your questions are boring as hell," he said. "why don't you ask me something interesting?"

"like what?" sophie asked. "what do you propose i ask you?"

"to dinner next week," cole answered immediately, his smile more of a toothy smirk, and sophie groaned, shook her head.

"i'm out," she said, taking a quick right. she made eye contact with you and sam. "i'll see you back at the house, tonight, girls?"

you both nodded, called out your agreement and goodbye.

when sophie was out of earshot, trevor clapped cole on the shoulder. "don't you get tired of striking out, coley?" he asked.

"you don't seem to, trev," luke observed, to which jack let out a laugh.

"hey, i got a single out of today," trevor argued. no one seemed to view that as the victory that he did.

cole and trevor eventually peeled off to the athlete's dining hall to get lunch, while luke walked back to the row with the group of you, saying something about grabbing a shirt from quinn's room.

when you all made it back, standing in front of the tke house, jack reluctantly retracted his arm from your shoulders. you felt cold without it.

luke headed up to the door.

"luke, tell quinn i say hi, would you?" sam asked, to which he gave some confused confirmation, before disappearing into the house. sam then turned to alex. "a pleasure, as always, al," she said, barely sparing him a second glance.

"yeah, bye?" alex said, almost a question, obviously wary of sam's change in pace.

jack touched your hand, pulled your gaze to his like two magnets, eliciting some kind of shield between you and the rest of the world. "thanks again for coming," he said, so soft, you could feel in your bones that he meant it.

"'course," you said, found it strange that it was entirely true. of course you would come when he called you. of course you'd indulge his every whim, when he asked so politely. "see you on friday? for dance?"

and he gave the slightest of pouts, but it drew your attention to his mouth nonetheless. made your cheeks feel hot, your heart beat fast, nonetheless. "too long, baby," he said, and you could have rolled your eyes at his boyish whine, but you never would. not when he was whining for you.

you just stayed quiet, let yourself smile, slightly. "maybe before friday, then?"

he grinned as if some plan he'd formed had turned out exactly as he'd hoped. "i'll text you," he said, giving you that fairytale smile, and you'd been told that before.

you'd been told that before, during nighttime hours that passed like slug across rain-drenched walkways. you'd been told that while in boxer shorts that weren't your own, standing in a doorframe that was practically laughing at you.

i'll text you, you'd been told, from some guy on his bed, on his phone, not quite looking at you.

and the doorframe might have cackled at how desperate you seemed, then, desperate for something you'd never get from this guy in the room you were leaving.

kick rocks, girl, the doorframe might have said, you know how many i've seen come in and out, even just this week? and you really think you're special?

but, right now, jack told you that he'd text you, and you couldn't find a doubt in your mind. you knew he would.

you proved to be right. the weekend flew by, because you were busy, yes, but also because of the near-ongoing text conversation you had fallen into with jack.

he might ask you something about the classes you were taking (besides ballroom), to which you would shyly tell him about some finance discussion you found genuinely interesting.

you might ask if he played sports at all, like his brother (he played hockey growing up, but wasn't good enough to play in college, like luke was with baseball), to which you would tell him you found it hard to believe that he could ever be not good enough at something.

and you'd believe it, too, wholeheartedly. sure, he had this ease to him, this softness, but he also seemed to possess a specific kind of eagerness, a delicious sort of hunger you felt must lead him to the things he wanted without exception.

you wouldn't admit it to anyone who asked, but he had you smiling at your phone on more than one occasion, had your heart beating a little faster with every notification. he had you dreamy. it was a good look on you.

that's how he had you, just over the phone, so the feeling was amplified by a million the next monday afternoon, after class, on your walk back from the business building, as you passed the tke house. a walk you'd taken a hundred-something times over the years, but this time was different, because your name was being called out of an upstairs window.

your heart stuttered, because you recognized that voice, in its confidence, in its goofy gentleness. you stopped walking, looked up, searching for an open window.

"that you, jack?" you called back, when you found it, found him leaning out of the pane with a smile you could see from where you stood. even though you knew. even though you'd never mistake his tone for anyone else.

he gave a pout. "who else?" he asked, and it was careful, calculated, even though it was playful. like he really wanted to know who else you thought would call your name from a window. like he really wanted to be the only one.

"oh, no one," you assured him, beginning to walk down the sidewalk again, towards your house, "you're my only romeo." you'd meant it in a joking way, but you could tell the first three words were the ones that mattered to him. the ones that would echo in his head. you're my only.

this made him light up, made him glow like a disco ball in a middle school gymnasium. "look so pretty today, baby!" he said, in response, before the distance between you grew so stark.

you flushed, wanted to feel the word pretty from his mouth against your neck, wanted to swallow it down. but you just smiled. "only today?" you asked, wondered where this confidence had come from, tried to imagine you saying that to anyone else. you couldn't.

"come back tomorrow, just to check!" he called out after you, making you shake your head, look down at your feet.

you weren't even back to your front door yet before your phone buzzed. not just today, he'd texted you.

i knew what you meant :), you sent back.

just didn't want you to think differently, he replied, followed by spend a scary amount of time thinking about how pretty you are.

the following day, you'd be lying if you said a smile didn't bloom across your face as you walked back after class, as you approached the tke house. maybe it was some pavlov response, but it was probably because you recognized the figure sitting on the window pane on the top floor, swinging his legs, just looking out, like he was on the top of a pirate ship.

you smiled, but your pulse stuttered, a bit. "jack?" you asked, although of course you knew it was him, that perfect facial structure, shag of soft hair. "is it safe up there?"

his gaze fixed on you, alight with flame and amusement. "worried 'bout me, baby?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes, but something in you twitched, because you were, actually. when did that happen?

"why're you hanging outta your window?" you asked, because you didn't need to tell him that you cared that much about him, not yet. you barely wanted to admit it to yourself, even.

he seemed to take your deflection as confirmation, anyways, to see right through you, as he typically did. his grin ticked up, a beautiful combination of a bashful blush and confident smile. he pushed his hair from his face. "knew you'd be walkin' by," he said, swung his feet up and back gently. "had to catch you."

you swallowed, ran your palms along the straps of your backpack in delighted disbelief. "you were waiting for me to walk by?" you asked, still not quite understanding.

he only nodded, tilted his head, gave the softest of smirks. it was almost too much. "don't you know you've got me waitin' by the phone, baby?" he asked, melodic. it was almost like he was making fun of you, with that teasing tone, but you knew in your heart that he wasn't. that he would never.

cherry-blossom pink bloomed across the bridge of your nose as his confession registered in your mind. the thought of him throughout his day, acutely aware of his phone in his pocket, his heart racing at every buzz, like yours did. "bein' so patient, are you?" you asked, the words smooth and drowsy in your throat, like cough syrup.

he hummed, swung a leg back over the pane, starting to shift his body back inside. "'m here when you need me, baby," he said, matter-of-fact, absolute. his gaze sharpened, the temperature of it rising to a scorch you felt like a slap. "or when you want me."

it was something sort of breathtaking, how honest he was with you, from the beginning. how he seemed perfectly content just waiting for you to come to terms with the attraction you felt so deeply. the attraction he could see in your eyes, in your breath, in your words.

you were scared, though, because this was the before part. and the guys you'd had before had appeared genuinely interested during the before part, too. it was the after part you were concerned about.

because what if he lost interest as soon as he had you, like the other guys did? he seemed so different, and so genuine, and sure, you'd never thought anyone to be as beautiful as him, but what if he wasn't different? what if he left you, too, standing alone, dumb, a desperate fool?

how many times had a beautiful trick forced your hand? you shivered at the thought, but the romantic in you wanted to believe. in yourself, in him. she wanted to believe in the love story between the beautiful trick and the desperate fool. she needed to.

the following day, perhaps you shouldn't have been surprised, as you approached tke house on your walk back, to recognize jack's familiar figure in his front yard. he appeared to be making progress closer to you, day by day, from inside his room, to outside his window, to now, just next to the sidewalk.

the scene you approached wasn't necessarily a rare one, not on the row, but it might appear odd to an outsider. a few of the brothers, some that you recognized, were sitting on a couch that they had obviously moved from inside, while a couple others, jack included, were lounging on adirondack chairs. most of them had computers out, doing work, or something like it. and, of course, because it was a sunny afternoon, all of them, save for one, were bare-chested.

you weren't especially sensitive or judgmental when it came to that sort of thing, but, as you got closer, you found your cheeks growing hot, anyways. you were embarrassed like a kid, like you'd been caught with something forbidden, and you might've walked right by the house, avoiding eye contact, if jack hadn't made that impossible.

"tryna sneak by, baby?" he called out from his chair, teasing, his posture so distractingly relaxed, knees spread wide. he waved you over with a knowing smile. "c'mere," he said, but not like a demand. like a request, sweet-sounding from his full mouth.

and you'd do just about anything he asked, so of course you exhaled, turned on your foot, walked nervously from the sidewalk onto the lawn, over to his chair. you nodded your hello to nico, on the couch, on your way, finally stilled in front of jack's chair.

your heart was pounding, your palms felt damp. he'd called you baby, in front of all of his friends, like you weren't something to hide. the opposite, actually, like you were something to show off, someone to be proud of. he looked at you like you were worth something, and he looked so beautiful, drenched in sunlight, so stunning that your throat felt tight.

"hi," you said, internally smacked yourself at how lame you sounded, how dumb.

"hi," jack parroted, his smile growing as he shut his computer, set it down on the ground next to him. you suspected he could probably feel your nerves, your distraction. you suspected he was delighted in it. and that made you feel a bit better, at least. to be his delight, for the moment being. "you know quinn, right?"

you turned your eyes to the chair next to jack, to a face you recognized, the only one in the yard wearing a shirt. "yeah," you answered, giving quinn a small nod, which he returned. "hey, quinn."

the older brother gave you a small smile. "hey," he replied, "heard your sam's been askin' about me."

you laughed, twisted the sole of your sneaker into the grass slowly. "she has," you confirmed, although you highly doubted her interest was genuine. "very recently, at least."

quinn just laughed, gave a slight shake of his head before turning back to his computer. he knew something you didn't, you could tell, but you couldn't focus on that, right now, not when jack's voice called you back from your curious state.

"wanna sit?" he asked, spreading his legs wider as if to make room for you. you scrunched up your nose, slightly, in thought.

"you're not busy?" you asked, sort of shaky, shifting on your feet.

he shook his head, gave his thigh a soft pat in invitation. "wanna hear about your day," he said, and you could have swooned.

you set down your backpack next to his laptop, on the grass, let him pull you onto his lap. you settled into his chest, crossed your feet over the far armrest, rested your hands in your own lap as he draped a heavy arm around your shoulders to keep you upright.

you tried not to ruminate too hard on how warm he was, how his bare skin seemed to spark against you like an electric shock. jesus, had you ever been so awkward?

"nervous, eh?"

you looked up at him, found his smile lazy but his eyes attentive, almost concerned. you nodded, because who could lie to those eyes? "you make me nervous," you said, plainly, because it was true.

he fixed you with that starry gaze, his mouth dipping slightly into something like relief. you were confused, your brow furrowing as he took your hand in his free one, brought your fingers up to his neck, just below his ear. he pressed your index and middle finger into his soft skin until you could feel his pulse, until it vibrated through you.

until you could feel just how fast his heart was beating. you felt molten, all over, like day-old valentine's day chocolate over a flame.

you rubbed careful circles into his neck, as if to soothe the underlying pace. "like you just ran up the stairs," you said, and it came out like a whisper. jack just huffed a laugh, let his hand fall to the top of your legs. there was something mesmerizing in his eyes when he looked at you, then. "thank you," you added, a breath.

"make me nervous, too, baby," he said, so soft only you could hear. his mouth twisted into a teasing grin. "'m just better at hidin' it."

you rolled your eyes, but relaxed deeper into him, all the same, leaning your head back on his extended arm, shifting across his lap. "guess 'll have to get better at it, then," you said, a small smile on your face.

he just shook his head. "hope you don't," he told you. "hope you never hide from me."

your tongue felt too big for your mouth, then, so you just asked about his day, told him about yours, felt yourself grow more and more comfortable with each passing second, as the sun peeled across the sky like a sweet orange. you had homework to do, but you lost track of time, talking with him about everything and nothing, about nonsense and significance. you found yourself hanging off of his words like they were his lips, found yourself laughing so genuinely and sharing more with him than you had with a new person in a long, long time.

his laugh rang in your head like church bells. everything he said to you felt like a secret, like something just between the two of you. people moved to and from the lawn as you spoke, as you listened, but neither of you seemed to notice. the hours melted away in moments.

"jesus, there you are," came a loud voice from the sidewalk, pulling you from your bubble. you turned, found sam, a hand on her hip, looking right at you. "would it kill you to answer your phone?"

guilt bloomed in your chest. you hadn't thought to check your phone in what must have been an eternity. you quickly picked yourself up from jack's lap to grab it from your bag, caught a glimpse of his pout, which made your stomach flip. you scrolled through your notifications, winced at the texts you'd missed, mostly sam asking where you were. "i'm sorry," you said, looking up at her, and you meant it.

sam didn't hold grudges, though, had better things to do. it was one of the things you loved about her. so she just waved you off, approached you where you knelt next to your phone. she tilted her chin up at jack in greeting before noticing his brother. "'sup, quinn," she said, pushing her glasses to the top of her head. "didn't get the tarps-off memo, did you?"

quinn looked up, smiled right back at her. his gaze darted to the front door of the house and back in a second, almost undetectable, but you noticed it, noticed quinn's grin grow almost devious. "sorry to disappoint, sammy," he said, emphasis heavy on the nickname, his eyes settling on the door again. he coughed, nodded his head. "hey, uh, alex."

you bit your lip to stifle a laugh, shared a look with jack, who touched your shoulder lightly. just to say are you getting this? just to say i'm right here with you. as if you'd forget.

sam spun around to face alex, who stood on the front steps, hands in the pockets of his shorts. he wasn't looking at sam, though. he was glaring daggers at quinn, who was acting oblivious, practically humming contently in his seat.

"excuse me?" sam's voice was pitched. "what the hell are you wearing?"

your eyes widened as you registered the front of alex's t-shirt. it was a pretty pale yellow, with some bid day slogan on it, over three identical triangles. alex was wearing something tri delt.

you felt jack lean forward, his mouth right by your ear. "that from this year's bid day?" he asked. you nodded slowly, so as to let the scene unfold in front of you without disruption.

alex just looked down at his shirt, shrugged, appeared to be the picture of confidence, even arrogance. "what's the big deal?"

sam rolled her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest. "tri delt, al, really?" sam sighed, then began to pull at the sleeves of her own sweatshirt, tug it over her head. of course, she was wearing only a bra underneath. of course, she didn't care.

quinn laughed, let out a whistle.

jack's laugh shook through you as he leaned forward, rested his forehead on your shoulder blade. you grinned at the intimacy of it, of letting him hide his laugh in you.

sam exhaled again, her sweatshirt now in her hand, which she extended to alex as she fixed her glasses. "here," she said, impatient.

alex narrowed his eyes, took the blue mass of fabric, pulled it over his head.

sam didn't wait to see him put it on, like she didn't need to check, instead turning on her heel, in pajama pants and pretty much nothing else, and began to walk back towards the a phi house. she gestured your way, "let's go, you," she ordered.

you scurried to grab your bag, pushed up on your feet, touched your fingers to jack's chin, lightly, before making to follow her. "movie tomorrow?" you asked, emboldened by hours of comfort, of being made to feel comfortable.

"yes, please," jack said, and the way he smiled up at you was something of dreams. "i'll text you, yeah?" you nodded, turned to run after your roommate.

"pleasure as always, madam president," nico called out from the couch, to which sam scoffed.

you caught up with her, hugged her into your side. "feeling feisty, eh?" you asked.

"tri delt," she said, biting, "what a moron, honestly. who does he think he is?"

you laughed. "i don't think he's thinking about anyone in tri delt, right now," you tried.

"and don't think we're not talking about you," she said, wagging a warning finger at you, "disappearing for hours, just for me to find you in the lap of a," she gasped dramatically, for emphasis, "frat boy!"

and you did talk about it, later, in the comfort of your room. you talked about jack, and how special he made you feel, and how patient he was with you, and how different he seemed.

and you talked about how scared you were, how you were so worried that as soon as you gave him any more of you, he'd take it all and run like blue and red flashed in the rearview. how you were more scared now, probably than ever before, because of how ready you were to give him whatever he wanted, and after such a short time of knowing him, too. to give him all of you, if he asked.

or, at least, to give him enough of you that, if he did run, he would leave nothing left.

sam listened, and asked questions, and talked for a long while, but the gist of it was that sometimes good things are scary. sometimes to be scared is to care, and sometimes to care is to be human.

"jesus, just look at me," she said, "make a fool out of myself on the daily for that scumbag, and look where it gets me." she sighed. "minus one sweatshirt and plus one poor boy calling me sammy."

you laughed. "you're a lot of things," you mused, "but you're no fool."

unlike you, foolish one, some voice in your head taunted, low and mean. your nose twitched.

sam hummed. "so, i should be out of the room tomorrow night?"

you groaned, hung your head in your hands. "it's a terrible idea, right?" you asked. "of course he's going to think something specific when i asked him to watch a movie at my place, hm?"

she just laughed at your anguish, put her hands up in surrender. "hey, you asked him," she pointed out. "not like he snapped you u up? at three a.m."

you scrunched up your nose. "i guess," you said.

"you make the rules," sam reminded you, "you set the pace." she fixed you with a look. "but you seem to like the fast track, love." she gestured to her cheeks. "you're glowing with it."

and maybe she was right. but you didn't feel like you were glowing, the following night, the night jack was supposed to come over.

you'd fussed over your hair and your clothes and your general being, made and remade your bed, folded all the clothes in your closet, as if he would be doing a thorough inspection.

you felt scattered, scared, so devastatingly nervous. you caught a glimpse of yourself in your mirror, almost flinched at the lack of confidence you found, the physical embodiment of anxiety. it seemed to web under your eyes like spiders, seemed to coat your skin like dull plaster.

it was sort of odd you felt so anxious, you thought, because you trusted jack. you trusted him so much, so truly. brutal memories had your sense of security all twisted around, though. at the moment, you couldn't quite grasp his lips against your temple, you couldn't tangibly touch his kind smile, didn't have the echo of his reassuring words in your ear.

you just felt crazy. crazy for wanting to trust him, somehow even more crazy for not being able to just let go. how badly you wanted to let go of the past, of your insecurities, of your fears.

it was almost like you were being pulled between two realties. you felt the stretch in the lines on your palms, in the seam of your mouth, in your breastbone. it was a pull between the kind of fear you found some deranged sort of certainty in and the future, what could be, what you could almost taste, if you'd just let yourself relax. if you'd only let yourself enjoy it.

why do you have to remember every embarrassment and failure? some voice in your head screamed, why can't you just be normal? you swallowed around your sadness, because he'd probably want someone normal, right? he probably wouldn't want you.

as if summoned by your despair, your attention was pulled upwards by a knock on your window, a few quick raps. you squinted, were shocked to find jack's pretty face on the other side of the glass.

you lived on the first floor, so it wasn't necessarily unsafe, or anything, but the front door was right there, and he was early. he was early, and you looked like a mess, felt like an even bigger one.

still, you walked over to the window, pulled it open. "what're you doing?" you asked, cleared your throat to hide the shake in your voice.

his blue eyes flashed with something like recognition, gone again in a moment. "am i too early?" he asked, like some impatient kid on christmas morning. "i can wait by the front door for another hour, if you want." you could have sighed in his voice, this specific tone that calmed you like lavender, the one that was almost making fun of you, but not quite.

even in your chaotically disorganized state, you just left the window open, stepped back. "'course you can come in now," you said, welcoming him in. you gave him a bit of a laugh, but it sounded kind of sad as it came out. "'m sorry about all this," you said, giving a rough gesture to your room, yourself, as you sat at the foot of your bed. "i'd probably have fixed it by the time you were supposed to get here."

he climbed into your room, and the sight was so intimate it made your chest contract. when he looked up at you, confusion dripped down his gaze like candle wax. "what do you mean?" he asked, coming to sit next to you, warm and easy. "fix what?"

you gave him a half-smile, genuinely believed he was just being polite. "i know i look crazy," you said, running your fingertips under your eyes. "i feel crazy."

his eyes filled with kind concern, not pity, but just care. he tentatively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulled you into his chest in an embrace that felt like a midday nap, exactly what you needed. "then i'm happy i couldn't stay away, crazy girl," he said, and it was so soft it hurt. "tell me." a request, only because he wanted to know. he wanted to know you.

and, after a sigh, you did tell him, just as you'd told sam. you told him about how scared you were, about how you could feel how he was different, how you knew it like some philosophical principle, but how you were terrified, anyways.

you told him about how dumb, how juvenile and stupid you'd felt, over and over again, just for wanting to be taken seriously, just for wanting someone to deem you worthy of something longer than a night. just for wanting someone to stay. you told him about how you'd had people be so sweet and kind and caring, but they'd still left after they'd gotten what they'd wanted.

and you sort of felt pathetic as you spoke, and you half expected him to laugh, to tell you that you were like every other girl, expecting un-promised things from some poor guy. but, of course, he didn't. of course, he just held you to his chest, listened to you the entire time, his thumb rubbing circles into your upper arm.

"i don't want you to think that i think you're a bad guy," you made sure to say, looking up at him, "and i don't want you to think that i don't care about your life, and your anxieties, and stuff, just because i'm rambling about mine." you let your eyes flood with everything you were feeling. "but i also don't want you to think i'm disinterested, or bored, or something."

he hummed, and it was quiet, for a moment, as your words rolled around his head. "what do you want me to think, then?" he asked, finally, gently.

you leaned your head on his shoulder, thought for a second. "i want you to know that i'm into you," you landed on, and the truth tasted sweet on your tongue. "and i want to ask you to keep being patient with me, please." your mouth quirked up. "like you already are, i guess."

his smile was something dreamy before he pressed his lips to your hair. "how about this?" he said, a murmur, "how about you let me try to convince you i'm staying, hm? trust me to?"

you found yourself nodding.

"and if you want something, you just ask me, okay, baby?" he amended. "ask me, and i'll be here. promise."

you looked up at him through your lashes. "thank you," you breathed, after a pause, because a promise was something special. him being so soft with you was something special, too.

he gave a slight shrug, his smile almost a smirk. "you told me you're into me, baby," he said, like that explained everything.

you just laughed into his shoulder, felt fear melt away, dissolve into the air. "what did you come over for, again?" you joked, because you were supposed to be watching a movie, and instead you'd unloaded all this information on him. instead, you'd told him how you felt.

but he didn't seem to hear the joke in your tone. "to see you," he said, simply, making you flush.

eventually, you watched the second scream movie, which was your favorite, and you asked about his day, and you continued to add to the filing cabinet of information about jack that existed in your mind. eventually, the dim light and night air made your words slow and your eyes droopy. eventually, the two of you fell asleep.

when your eyes fluttered awake, sunlight poured in through your curtains like flour through a sieve. your limbs felt stiff, your neck tight, having fallen asleep in an awkward position, but your head was clear, not foggy at all. you'd slept scarily well.

a slight shift on your mattress drew your attention, and your eyes widened when you registered jack, still asleep, still in the clothes he'd come in last night. you looked around to find your laptop on the floor, jack's sweatshirt halfway off the side of the bed.

checking your phone for the time, you mouthed a curse, because you were already late for your eight a.m. you must have forgotten to set your alarm for this morning. admittedly, you had been awfully busy last night, in a comfortable sort of way. you'd had much more important things on your mind than today's lecture, namely the way jack's voice grew rougher as the hours passed. namely, how he shared things with you like he trusted you with everything, like he knew you'd take care of him.

you silently rose, crept to the bathroom to brush your teeth and quickly get ready. when you emerged again, you were relieved to find his eyes still closed.

he looked so peaceful, like this, so blissful, almost angelic. the morning sun settled on his face, the crown of his head like a halo, his chest rising and falling with even breaths.

as you pulled on a different shirt and shorts, you couldn't help the small smile that stretched across your face. because, you remembered, you'd told him everything, and he had stayed. when you looked over at him, he didn't disappear. he was really, genuinely there, and had felt comfortable enough in your bed, in your space, to fall asleep with his arm under your neck, with his knee grazing your hip.

only when you picked up your backpack did he stir, reaching a hand to rub over his face, stretching with a groan that made you blush. when he retracted his hand, resting it up against your headboard, his sleepy gaze found yours. he smiled, an instinct, a compulsion. you smiled back. "tryna sneak out on me?" he said, yawning halfway through.

you approached the side of the bed he was laying on, by your nightstand, bent down and sat back on your heels so you were close to eye level with him. "no," you told him, honestly. you pushed his hair back from his face, and he hummed at your touch, eyes drowsy, getting used to the light from the window. perhaps still getting used to the light of you. "just didn't want to wake you."

he exhaled, and you felt the heat of it on your arm. "going to class?" he asked.

you nodded, smiled. "but i'll see you later, maybe?" you asked, hopeful. "i'll text you?"

"please," was his reply.

before you pushed up from your knees, though, you bit your lip with indecision. "jack," you began.

"yeah, baby?" he asked, almost confused, certainly intrigued.

"remember when you said to tell you when i want something?" you tone had grown cautious.

"'course," he said, reaching a hand forward, under your chin, to keep your eyes trained on his.

you swallowed, shifted. "i want something."

he smiled, shy, in a flash of teeth, just so, so pleased. "anything," he answered, sleep now gone from his gaze, replaced with something sharper, something beautiful. "anything." he said it like a plea.

you breathed out, searched his eyes, then leaned forward slowly, pressed your lips gently to his. only for a second, soft as anything, barely there, before making to pull away again.

then his broad hand was on the side of your face, though, guiding you back to his mouth, this time harder in commitment but not in force. the positioning was kind of awkward, with him propped up on his elbow, and he tasted a little bitter from the morning, and your heart felt like it was buzzing, but it was perfect. it was perfect, all of it, because it was with him.

no running away, his kiss seemed to scream at you, not from me.

you hoped he could sense your promise by the way you reached an arm around his neck, by the way you relaxed into his mouth, practically a sigh of relief.

he felt like lazy laundry days and laughing in the kitchen and pinkie promises. he smelled like worn-out cologne from the night before. he felt like trust, and belief, and something meaningful. he felt like something, someone, you could get used to. someone you wanted to, at least.

you both pulled away, at some point, only just barely, enough to catch your breath. you ran your nails along the nape of his neck, watched his glossy gaze settle on you.

"'m really gonna be late, now," you said, dumb, but you didn't really care. you had greater things to care about, it seemed.

he laughed, and you felt it in your fingers. "they're lucky they're getting you at all," he said, and it was a rasp. his smile grew lopsided. "or maybe 'm the lucky one."

you gave a slight shake of your head. he just said these kinds of things, and he didn't think about how they'd make your vision spin. how terribly inconsiderate. "i'll see you later?" you clarified, giving his shoulder a squeeze before getting up, lugging your backpack on.

he nodded, still a bit dazed, it seemed.

the thought made you smile. "bye, jack," you said, on your way out.

"bye, baby," he called out after you, a sing-song. you could hear the happiness leaking from his voice, could almost taste it.

time passed quickly and blissfully, from there. the semester began to rush forward in a flurry of classes and chapter meetings and philanthropy obligations, all which were cut with movie nights with jack in your room, nights on which he slept over more often than not (you swore every time he came over he stole a different sweatshirt of yours. your closet was starting to look scarce, but whenever you saw him push the too-tight sleeves up on his forearms, you couldn't find it in yourself to mind), dance class on friday afternoons (you didn't know how someone could be so tragically terrible at ballroom as you seemed to be, but you looked forward to it, all the same), parties at tke on the weekends (you grew to know his friends and brothers and their girlfriends, grew to be a part of their little world).

tonight was one of those parties, and you were in your room, trying to figure out what you were going to wear, before sam burst in the door.

"we're not going," she said, plain and simple, sitting on her bed.

you looked at her with a raised brow. "why not?" your eyes widened. "what did alex do?"

she rolled her eyes. "it's not alex," she explained. "i told nico no more bros and hoes bullshit a long time ago, and he didn't listen." she shook her head, as if disappointed. "what is the theme, if not golf bros and tennis club hoes?"

you gave a light laugh. "so we're actually not going?"

"nope," sam declared, "already put it in the chat. a phi is boycotting."

as if on cue, you received a text from jack that read coming tonight?

haven't you heard, you sent back, a phi is on strike :)

you accepted his almost instantaneous face-time request, grinning as his pretty features filled your screen. "what do you mean you're on strike?" was his immediate question.

"hi to you, too, jack," you teased, your stomach flipping when his eyes filled with something soft.

"hi, baby, 'm sorry," he amended, and his voice was genuine.

you waved his apology off lightheartedly. "i'm under strict presidential orders," you told him, "apparently nico didn't heed the warning about the bros and hoes thing."

jack groaned, then looked away from the screen for a second. "they're not coming," he called out to someone, "like, actually, all of a phi is not coming."

"and we're not budging!" sam called out from her bed.

"is that sam?" came another voice from jack's end. "put her on."

and so the phones were passed to alex and sam, respectively.

"c'mon, sam," alex said, the most emotion you'd heard from him in a while. "you guys need to come out. we need you there."

it was true, sort of. they needed girls there, and a phi was plentiful with pretty smiles and kind laughs.

"no can do, al," sam said, smug. "tke needs to learn their lesson."

alex blinked.

"will you put nico on, please?" sam asked, syrupy sweet. "i have some choice words for him."

"no, you can't talk to nico," alex responded, short.

"what's the deal, madam?" came a very nico-sounding voice, off screen. "it's a good theme, eh? think you'd look great in a tennis skirt."

you rolled your eyes.

"what, won't let him talk without his lawyer present?" sam pressed.

jack's laugh was bright. you felt it through the screen.

"he can talk to you when he puts a shirt on," was the curt response.

you smirked. alex was not doing a very good job of shielding his emotions, not anymore.

"you know me better than that, don't you?" sam asked, almost offended. "not one to get distracted easily by a bare chest."

alex sighed, rubbed a hand over his face.

"are you saying you get distracted by nico's abs, al?" sam continued. "i mean, i get it, even if i can't relate personally."

"you're not talking to him, sam," alex said. "our theme for tonight is not up for debate. it's too late."

sam gave a dramatic sigh, appeared deep in thought.

"well, can i talk to quinn, then?" sam said. "not for any reason, really, just want to see his face."

you bit your lip out of frame, smiled, because you had a feeling jack was doing something similar. you had a feeling that if you were in the same room, right now, you'd be sharing a knowing glance, a hidden laugh. you felt warm with that knowledge.

"quinn's busy," alex bit out. you could almost hear his grinding teeth.

sam just gave a theatrical pout that had you giggling.

"shame," sam said, a winning smile on her face.

you heard alex's deep exhale. "you're killing me, here, beautiful," he said, a sigh. your eyes widened. was alex finally breaking?

sam just hummed. "'s that my sweatshirt you're wearing, al?" she asked. "color looks nice on you."

then she handed the phone back to you, walked from the room, and when you looked down at the screen, alex was gone, too, leaving only the soft slope of jack's nose, messy hair in his face. "hi," you said, a smile bubbling free.

"hi," he parroted. "if you're not coming, then, what're you doing tonight?"

you shrugged. "probably just watching a movie here," you said. "nothing crazy."

his nose twitched, his eyes shone with an unasked question.

"wanna join?" you asked, loving the way his face lit up at your invitation.

he sucked on his teeth, and your stomach coiled with heat at the sight. "think 'm technically supposed to be here," he said, to which you pouted. "but i might be able to sneak out."

"sneak outta your own party?" you asked, a light laugh on your mouth like a sparkly gloss.

"for you," he added, which made your laugh settle into something dangerous.

you scrunched up your face in delight. "'ll leave my window open, then," you said.

"thank you, baby," he said, waited for you to hang up first.

you did leave your window open, let the cool nighttime breeze ease in, blowing your curtains slightly, the edges of your sheets by your feet. you were comfortably on your side, your mind quiet as your eyes lazily took in your computer screen.

the tassels on your drapes seemed to sing at jack's knock on the window pane. the fixtures in your room seemed to relax, the wood of your desk turning malleable, the light on the ceiling to burn hotter, dimmer.

play it cool, you wanted to shush them, the way you whisper to your friends in middle school when your crush walks past your locker, just act normal.

your smile crept up on you, slow and genuine, as he swung his other leg over, shut the window again, immediately kicking off his sneakers and collapsing on top of you, the weight of him almost oppressive against your chest, your face.

you laughed nonetheless, wrapped your arms around his middle to hug him closer, to breathe him in. you felt his neck relax, his heavy head hang just above your shoulder. he let out a breath, like he was exhaling everything heavy. like he was making space for you in his lungs, in his chest, in his being.

you rubbed gentle circles into his back over his sweatshirt. "successful jailbreak?" you murmured, your voice muffled into his chest.

he pressed his lips to your shoulder, gently, before rolling off of you, soft as anything but sparking heat between the two of you nonetheless. "you've made a fugitive out of me," he joked, laying an arm over your torso and pulling you into his side.

"sure they won't be missing you?" you asked, brushing his hair from his face. his eyes simmered with something lovely.

he gave a shrug you felt through your whole body. "if i was there, i'd be missin' you," he clarified in explanation. of course, your heart stuttered like a shy kid giving a speech at an all-school assembly.

"i'm glad you're here," you said, soft, the words not feeling like nearly enough. you hooked one leg around his, tangling the two of you further, then rethought your action.

because you'd known guys who'd groan at this kind of thing from you, who would warn you not to start something you couldn't finish, who would call you a tease or something much meaner.

but, of course, jack did no such thing. he just relaxed deeper into the position, nodded towards your abandoned computer. "what're we watching?" he asked.

you swallowed. it struck you as weird, that his endless patience and kindness sparked something hot in your stomach, that you wanted to give him anything and everything, all because he would never demand it of you.

his hand on your back suddenly felt heavy, his leg under yours too warm. you hummed, tilted your head up to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

you could feel him smile against your lips. "what's that for, baby?" he asked, rough.

"for you," you answered, simply.

you felt his pleased exhale in your bones as he took your chin in his hand, led your mouth to his in a deeper kiss, this time, one that felt like coffee mugs with lipstick on the rim, like good morning texts before you wake up, like burning fireplaces in the winter, fragrant and lively. "so sweet for me, baby," he mumbled against your mouth.

you sighed, ran your fingertips along his jaw, found courage in the blue of his eyes that willed your nerves away. "can i have something, please?"

"anything," he answered, softly, immediately, as he always had.

you ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, wondering what you were actually asking for. "i just want," you started, uncertain, then started again. "just-"

you cut yourself off with a shaky exhale, reaching an arm around his neck, shifted your body until you were on top of him, kissed him with something feverish in your veins. he let out some kind of whimper-ish sound, so strained, so desperate, as his hand found your hips, held you to him with intention.

you kissed him like you were burning, like you needed him to taste the flame of your want, like your desire was some burden you couldn't possibly shoulder alone.

he didn't seem to mind, anyways, quite the opposite - he kissed you back like he'd take anything you'd give him, like the fire you were exuding was water in a drought, like you were some fabled savior. like you were saving him.

you pulled gently at the hem of his pink sweatshirt, or yours, rather, withdrew slightly to help him tug it off. he was so beautiful, always, but especially now, glowing in the light of your bedroom, flushed entirely because of you, eyelids heavy with attraction.

you stilled, straddling his hips, his back against your headboard as you traced the veins in his arms with your fingertips.

his thumbs slipped under your sleep shorts, rubbed feather-light circles into the flesh of your hips. "tell me what you need, baby," he said. "whatever you want, swear it."

you bit your lip to dull your smile, because you realized, in that moment, that there was no semblance of fear in your mind. not even a drop of doubt. you knew, that no matter what you gave to him, no matter how much of yourself you offered up, he wouldn't leave you, dumb and ashamed, standing alone in some taunting doorway. he'd stay.

the fact made unfiltered want flow through you, powerful as a river after heavy rain.

you met his gaze with a confidence that hadn't been there in a long time, that he seemed to pull from you with ease. you rocked your hips against his lap, relished in the strain you saw in his eyes. "wanna feel you inside me," you rasped, continuing to shift back and forth. "wanna make you feel good, hm?"

you felt his groan in your teeth as he flipped you on your back in a single, swift motion, left messy, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck. he didn't saw anything about how long he'd been waiting, about how long you'd made him wait, and you had a feeling it was because he genuinely didn't care.

you had a feeling the only thing he cared about, in this current moment, was the feeling of your collarbone under his teeth, the way your hands rooted in the curls of his hair, the not-nearly-enough friction of his grinding hips against yours.

you both twisted and tugged clothes aside, hurried, almost crazed, until you could take him in your palm, hard and hot, run your grip up and down his length, urging a groan from his throat that you wanted to taste. his exhales were so, so labored as his hips jerked towards you involuntarily.

your eyes widened, because you'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be with someone like this, to be with someone whom you trusted entirely, someone whose pleasure you could feel as deeply as if it was your own. it made your blood feel volcanic as it beat from your heart.

"please, jack," you begged, and his overwhelmed gaze found yours, again.

"i know, baby," he cooed, running his fingers through your folds, cursing under his breath at how wet he found you, from barely being touched. all from him. your grip around him faltered as he pushed two fingers inside of you, the stretch immediate. "i know." you cursed, shut your eyes as he thumbed your clit, making your breath feel heavy in your mouth. he retreated further. "just wanna taste you first, baby, please?"

you just nodded, perfectly happy to give him any he wanted. then his mouth was on you, his tongue slow, methodical, as you tugged at his hair, your face pinched in pleasure.

pressure coiled inside of you as he pressed his tongue flat against your clit, making your back arch up of your bed, the friction dreamy.

the weight of him pressed your hips down, heightening the sensation, making each motion of his fingers feel like an eruption of flame, each swipe of his tongue feel monumental.

you choked out a whine of his name, pulled on his curls just a little harder, lewd, slick noises echoing in your ears. "more," you breathed, to which he groaned, rocked his hips against the bed, desperate for some kind of friction, some kind of relief. the sight had you clenching around his fingers.

"not enough?" he asked, his voice gentle, the fervor of his motions anything but. "need more, do you, pretty thing?" you nodded, whimpered a please, which had him pulling his deft fingers from you, shifting closer to you. he angled his cock to your core, held your hips down with his other hand. he hummed. "you can have it, baby."

your eyes fluttered shut as he began to push inside of you with a moan that you swore made your lampshade blush, made the conservative hangers in your closet shake their heads, disappointed. you grasped at his forearm with a reaching hand, fisted the other in your cotton sheets, the texture heightened in your palm.

you felt the stretch everywhere, half expected your bedroom to crack in half, to feel the pressure just as acutely as you did. "almost there, baby, 'atta girl," he bit out, "fuck, feel so good for me."

you whined at his words, at the feeling of him all the way inside of you, that perfect stretch that gave way to something deliriously good as he began to move and in out, slow, deep.

you felt your eyes roll back, as if in slow motion, as you dug your nails into his arm, shuddered at the sensation as he pressed your hips harder into your mattress. "'s so deep, jack, fuck," you breathed, careful as a wince.

he held the top of your headboard with a steady grip, increased his pace. when he spoke, his voice was gritty. "that okay, baby?" he asked, shifting your hips to make you more comfortable, to make the angle feel better. "how's that?"

"so good," you moaned, raw, "feel you everywhere."

and it was true. he thrust in and out of you at a mind-numbing pace, with an intensity that burned through your body. time seemed to freeze, or maybe to liquify, to flow like molten rock. to scatter into oblivion, marked in breathy pants and strained moans, desperate kisses and tired muscles instead of minutes and seconds.

at some point, he took his hand off of your headboard, brought it to his mouth, bit down, as if to stifle a groan, as if to distract himself, last longer for you.

the thought shot right to your core, made your head spin faster, that his pleasure might run so deep, because of you, that he needed a distraction from it.

you moved your hand to your clit, rubbing carefully, moaning at the stimulation, which made you clench down, grip him in a maddening kind of way.

he gave a choked moan. "fuck," he grunted. "can't, jesus, can't do it, baby, so wet for me." his voice was a tortured sort of overwhelmed as his hips sputtered, as his pace continued, harder, faster.

he made to look away from you, maybe to sink his teeth into the flesh of his hand, again, but you wouldn't let him, instead reaching up to pull his fingers to your own mouth, press them against your tongue, soothe the angry red mark that had begun to show.

you swore your mind was somewhere else, somewhere shiny, somewhere sleepy, as you felt his stomach and thighs contract, firm and wiry.

"won't last like this, pretty thing," he breathed, a slight sheen on his collarbones, his forehead, shimmery under the overhead light. "so close, baby, feel too good for me." his exhale was unsteady. "so perfect like this."

"want it," you whined, so impossibly close, yourself. "need it so bad, baby, please. want all of it." your eyes met his. "need you."

he seemed to shatter at your words, at your request, his high, warm and hazy, triggering your own, a blur of whines and pleases and his hot breath at your temple, an all-consuming wave that had your vision blurring, had you clenching down on him so tightly.

he collapsed on top of you for the second time that night, this time his skin glowy and damp, the air sticky and humid as you both let your breathing normalize again, as you let your eyes flutter open.

he rolled to your side, refusing to unclasp his arms around your back, consequently pulling you to his chest, your nose against his breastbone. you traced a hand along the top of his spine, so perfectly content, so wonderfully blissful.

with anyone else, now would be the time when the anxiety really set in. now would be the time that the furniture started to hiss at you to get out.

such anxiety was nowhere to be found, though, not now. not with him. his rough hands felt soft on your back as he shifted deeper into your bed, making himself comfortable, making you comfortable, too, in succession.

and even though you knew it, he knew you, just so, so well. "'m staying," he whispered into your hair, "long as you'll let me."

your heart was pink jello in your chest. you pressed your swollen lips to his shoulder. "i'll let you," you promised.

and so your self-proclaimed frat-boy-ban was broken, completely done away with, replaced instead by the most delicious stability.

the already fast-paced semester was made a fairytale blur by your beautiful exception, in all of his endless kindness, his unrelenting loveliness.

how many afternoons did you spend in his lap, out on his front lawn? how many nights did you fall asleep together, tangled up in each other? how many parties started with his hat backwards on his head, but ended with it on yours, instead? when did you start to leave your window open, every night? how many mornings did he surprise you with coffee, remembering your order like it mattered, simply because it was something you'd told him? how many times did his beauty and thoughtfulness surprise you, again and again?

like the time you went with him to a baseball game, an away one, this time, to support his friends and brother, when you insisted that you'd drive. you'd had to stop for gas, halfway through, gotten out of your truck, had only just stuck the nozzle in before he'd come around the side to lean against the door.

you had felt yourself raise a brow, almost confused. "sort of a one person job," you'd joked, to which he'd smiled, leaned back further against the side, just waiting with you.

like he couldn't bear to sit in the passenger seat, alone, not when you were out here, hands idle.

or like the night of your ballroom dance midterm performance, in front of an audience (an audience that included a lot of your friends). you'd stumbled halfway through the steps, nothing crazy, but certainly enough to notice. your face had grown hot, an embarrassed strawberry-milk flush.

but then, across the stage, jack had tripped over his own feet, in a way that looked pretty intentional, if you thought so yourself, as if he wanted to draw everyone's attention for a moment. as if he wanted to keep any potentially judgmental eyes off of you. he caught your knowing gaze as he pushed himself off of the floor, shot you a cheeky wink.

or, like tonight, a phi's blind date formal. this event was always a highlight of the year, at the very least always entertaining, always a good source of drama, of gossip, for a few weeks following.

planning it was a nightmare, from what sam had told you, a disorienting flurry of spreadsheets and communications with different frats and teams. typically, each house was matched with a frat and an athletic roster, and the dates were assigned from there, based on survey results and different requests.

you were excited for tonight, not nervous at all, because you'd requested jack as your date, and sam practically ran the whole thing, so you knew there would be no surprises.

for you, tonight was just a fun opportunity to dress up, to hang out with your best friends and your favorite boy.

the reveal of the dates was one of the best parts of the night. you'd be called upon to come out the door, and your date was supposed to be standing on the front step to walk you to the venue of the formal, just a few blocks away.

you gave yourself a final once-over in the mirror, turned to sam as you slung your clutch over your shoulder. "ready?" you asked, to which sam gave herself a spritz of perfume, nodded. you held the door for her. "did you tell me already if you requested somebody?"

she gave you a grin. "quinn," she said, simply.

you laughed. "you're gonna drive poor alex crazy," you chided.

she just shrugged. "he's driving me crazy, more like," she corrected. "all he does is bitch and moan when i mention other guys, then he wears my sweatshirt like it's all he owns, calls me beautiful, all that nonsense." she gave you a look. "i'm losing hope, love. if he doesn't make a legitimate move soon, i might go for quinn for real, just for all his trouble."

when it was your turn to open the front door, you took a breath, turned the handle, weren't surprised to find that familiar figure on the other side, pink flowers in his hand, his suit fitting him so wonderfully, his eyes softening when they caught on you.

your smile came easily, so naturally, as you approached him. he reached an arm around your middle, pulled you into his embrace by the small of your back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. you pressed your lips to his jaw in greeting before he pulled back.

"let me get a look at you," he said, soft, holding your hand at a distance, giving you a twirl that made you feel like a princess. he whistled. "i'm the one on your arm, tonight, pretty thing?" he asked, his smile toothy. "must be my lucky night."

you flushed with contentment, ducked into his side. "i'm the lucky one," you insisted, before the door opened again, making the two of you move to the sidewalk as he handed you your flowers, which you accepted with bashful thanks.

sam now stood in the open doorframe, but her wandering eyes narrowed when they landed on the curly-haired boy that stood on the front step. "what the hell is this about, alex?" she hissed.

"you look lovely, sam," alex said, undeterred.

"yeah, okay, thanks," sam said, "you know i requested-"

"i know," alex interrupted. "i vetoed your reuqest." he offered her his arm, which she took, lightly, reluctantly.

"that's not how this works," she reminded him, "you don't get a veto."

"i'm the president," he deadpanned, "of course i get a veto."

"i'm the president," sam retorted, "and i requested-"

alex sighed, turned to face sam, placed his palm over her mouth. "stop," he said, short, "talking."

her eyes narrowed, and jack pinched your side as you took in the sight in front of you. you shared an excited look.

"please be my date, tonight," alex asked, removing his hand from sam's face only after her mouth stopped moving. "for real."

after a brief pause, sam's mouth broke into a wide grin as she looped her arm through alex's, fell into step behind you and jack. "get up off your hands and knees, al," she teased, "'course i'll be your date. waited long enough, haven't i?"

it was a storybook sort of night from there, one defined by shared laughter and good music and gushing with your friends about their dresses.

time passed too fast in a blur of dance-floor spins that made the hem of your dress bloom, gentle touches and laughs into shoulders.

at some point, you and sam took a break by the edge of the venue, next to the refreshment table, having promised to bring jack back a drink. sophie approached you. you smiled, having not really seen her since the last chapter meeting.

"hey, sophie," you said, "this dress is stunning on you."

"thank you," sophie said, genuinely, before her eyes flashed. "if you see cole come up behind me, warn me, okay?"

"isn't cole your date, though?" sam asked.

sophie sighed. "technically, yes," she admitted, "but he thinks i requested him, which i didn't, so now he's being especially persistent."

you tilted your head. "so you got paired together because your survey results matched up? completely organically?"

"i guess," she answered, exasperated. "which i don't get, because we have, like, nothing in common."

"you have a little in common," sam said, "you both love baseball. it's, like, all you talk about."

"okay, so we have one thing in common," sophie conceded. "it's a conflict of interest! i'm supposed to be an impartial reporter!"

you shrugged. "impartiality is overrated," you said, and you meant it. now that you'd settled into being completely honest about how you felt, you couldn't imagine it any other way, couldn't fathom hiding that kind of thing from people that mattered.

"code cole, code cole," sam whispered.

"soph, you gotta stop running away from me," cole said, coming up behind her, shooting her that confident smirk. "tirin' me out, love."

sophie sighed, turned to face him, crossed her arms over her chest.

"care for a dance?" cole asked, extending his hand to her.

her gaze dipped to his fingers, then rose again. "i'll dance with you," she said, which made cole light up with excitement, "if you agree to give me at least one objectively useable quote after ever single game for the rest of the year."

cole blew out a breath like it was the easiest decision of his life. "done," he declared. he gave an enthusiastic fist pump when sophie took his hand and led him to the floor.

leaning back against the table, you and sam scanned the room, laughing at trevor's ridiculously bold suit, scoffing at nico, who was dancing with two girls at the same time, sharing a knowing glance when you registered quinn and luke, sitting at a table on the outskirts, luke's tie completely untied, quinn's tied around his head. the two loners appeared to be engaged in a game of cards with their respective dates.

eventually, you made good on your promise to jack, grabbing two drinks. when you turned your back on the table, he was walking up to you, his face pleasantly flushed, eyes so doting. your smile grew as he got closer. your eyes shut, delighted, when he threw an arm around your shoulders.

"there you are, baby," he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. you were hit with a dizzying sense of deja vu, knowing you'd been here before, knowing so much had changed since the last time you'd been in this position. "thanks for holding my drink for me."

you smiled up at him, leaning into his side, warm and firm against you. it was something magnificent, to have it not be an act, this time. to have it be completely genuine. to have it be real.

"of course, baby," you said, the slight tease in your tone made shimmery by the glint in his gaze.

he hummed, moved his arm down to wrap around your waist, pull you against him as he swayed back and forth to the music. you exhaled, so utterly at peace, relaxed into his chest, tilted your head back to look up at him. he met your gaze eagerly, that smile you so adored overtaking his face like a mural on the side of a building. "what?" he asked.

you shook your head, laughed lightly. because what, really? how could you sum it up? "you," you answered, honestly. "just you."

how could you sum him up? he was one million things. your pretend boyfriend in the face of campus security. your ballroom dance partner. your movie-night, good-morning text, sweatshirt stealer. your window-climber, baseball-watcher, owner of your favorite smile. your tke boy. your exception.

he was one million things, but, when he leaned down to press his lips to your hair, he was only one.

yours.

fin.

#hockey #hockey smut #nhl #smut #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #nhl smut #quinn hughes #trevor zegras smut #jack hughes x reader #new jersey devils #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #luke hughes #nico hischier #alex turcotte #cole caufield

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chelseeebe · 3 months

Text

everything has changed

you and steve were once the bestest of friends, cruelly torn apart when you’re forced to leave hawkins suddenly. fifteen years on, everything has changed and yet, nothing has changed.

i had this idea a while ago and then have recently become re-obsessed with the song so decided to give it a rewrite! it’s kinda giving seven x everything has changed and i love that. i have a sitcom level idea of a part two for this but i’m not sure it’ll ever come to fruition

18+. no smut but my blog is 18+ :) mostly just fluffy friends to lovers stuff hehe

‎♡‧₊˚

“you promise we’ll be friends forever?” steve asks, quirking his little eyebrows up. still so innocent, so unaware that the world was a cruel place.

“i promise!” you’d shrieked, toothy grin beaming over at him as you sat poised on the climbing frame. “we’ll write letters every week and in the summer you can come and visit!”

steve whooped with glee, the metal frame shaking from the force of his body, “okay! my mom has your mom’s number so i can call you,” grubby hands clinging onto yours.

you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, wobbling atop of your tower. full of hope and your shared joy. oblivious to how the next 15 years would play out.

life hadn’t been so kind as to keep the two of you in contact. steve’s mom had tried to explain it to him, but his poor seven year old brain couldn’t quite grasp it.

it was only when he was older that he had realised what had happened.

you had been whisked away to california, your mother’s home state, far away from your dad. for your safety of course. his mother had warned him not to mention where you had gone to anyone, and he’d stuck by that.

and really, life had gotten in the way of thinking about you too much. basketball tryouts and getting girls into the back of his bmw had taken precedence over fading thoughts of freckly girls he once knew.

steve was at college now, admittedly tagging along with robin, but he was enjoying it. he played basketball, studied children’s education and had even scored himself a kinda stable girlfriend.

he’s sat in the library, book open and unread in front of him on the table as robin attempts to convince him to go out tonight.

“it’ll be fun! besides, i promised my roommate that i’d go.. y’know she’s having a hard time,” turning on the puppy dog eyes that more often than not, worked on him.

he groans, “i don’t know rob.. finals are coming up soon and i really need to get this down if i wanna graduate with you,” though he makes no effort to actually pick up the book, more interested in the coffee robin had used as a bargaining chip.

“steve,” almost warningly, “come for an hour,” nodding at him, as if to subliminally make him agree, “and then i’ll help you study all day tomorrow, okay?” tilting her head, bright green* eyes glistening at him.

“fine,” succumbing to her pleas, “but you owe me,” sending a glare across the table as he finally turns the page.

robin grins, happy she’d gotten her own way. again.

they walk arm in arm into the bar, squeezing through the crowd as they attempt to locate robin’s mysterious roommate.

steve sighs, whispering into robin’s ear, “why do i have to be here? just because your roommate is a lonely weirdo, doesn’t mean you have to drag me out too,” pouting like a petulant child.

she pinches his arm, causing him to yelp into her ear, “this is why i used to pray for the ceiling light to fall on your head in mrs click’s class,” pulling away from him as she spots whoever she’s looking for.

“wait.. what?” he calls out after her, weaving through the crowd to find her again.

she has her face buried into someone’s shoulder, blabbering about the busy bar and how good it was to get out.

robin pulls away, gesturing over to steve as this lucrative stranger meets his eye.

it’s you.

the little girl who had promised to be his best friend forever now stood before him, all grown up. he almost doesn’t believe it. in fact, he can’t. not until you speak, his name echoes around meaninglessly.

“what the fuck?” he gasps, still in utter shock.

“it’s really you? you’re.. oh my god, you’re steve of course you are,” wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug, the exact way you had fifteen years ago.

you even smell the same, a distinct sort of vanilla smell that takes his mind hurtling fifteen years into the past. he almost wants to throw up from the turbulence of it all.

“i can’t believe you’re here,” you gasp, still nuzzled into his shoulder, “this is so surreal,” now holding him at arms length, dissecting his face in the same way he was yours.

you looked the same and yet completely different. no more gappy smiles or sun bleached hair, very pretty. his seven year old self had thought so too, but your friendship had meant more.

“you two know each other?” robin perplexes, watching the scene unfold with zero context.

“we.. uh- yeah,” unsure of how much he can divulge, still under strict orders from his mom to never tell a soul where you’d gone.

“we were friends, i was born in hawkins so.. god, this is so weird,” you exasperate, letting go of his frame to talk to a bewildered robin.

“you’re from hawkins? you told me you were from california?” robins face twists in confusion.

“it’s a.. complicated story,” you look back at him, still trying to decipher if he was even real, “i moved away when i was young but we were like, best friends,” baring your teeth with your smile.

“well shit, i’ve got time,” robin laughs, sliding into the booth, she looks up at steve, “drinks on you.. you know, to celebrate,” wiggling her brows in that irritating way she did when she wanted something.

he dutifully obliges as you begin your story, he supposes that now you probably can.

your dad had moved out of hawkins a while ago, it wasn’t exactly a secret as to why you guys had just up and left so abruptly. steve had always hated him, made sure to glare daggers into his back when he and his mother would pass him in the street or in melvalds. he felt he owed you that.

plus steve was angry, angry that you’d had to leave him behind because of your dad. his tiny mind couldn’t comprehend that it was for the better, only understanding that it was your dad’s fault his best friend had been taken from him.

steve’s curious about california, how your life differed from hawkins. you play it off as nothing special but you smile differently when you speak of afternoons after school spent on the beach and learning to surf.

he makes some off-hand comment about making it out which causes your brows to furrow, “so did you,” tapping the table in front of him, “remember we would talk about college? living in a big house together?”

he chortles, almost choking on his beer, “yeah, with ten dogs and three cats,” shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all.

“wow..” robin butts in, “so you did this with other girls before me?” faux-offence written all over her face.

you beam, looking between the two of them, “so are you guys dating?”

steve does choke this time, sputtering as the bitter liquid slides down the back of his throat.

“no!” they chime in unison.

“jesus christ, you think i’d date him?” robin falls into a fit of giggles, it didn’t hurt his ego anymore. robin had very particular tastes and that very much didn’t include men.

“thanks rob..” he snarls jokingly, “i uh, i have a girlfriend.. just not robin,” he’s not sure why he’s apprehensive to tell you. christ, he’d only re-known you for five fucking minutes.

“sorry, i just assumed..” shrinking into your seat, desperate to change the subject.

he’s modestly pleased that you don’t ask any more about his girlfriend, which in turn makes him feel a rotten sense of guilt.

“yeah well, to assume makes an ass out of you and me,” robin adds, giving you a poke to your ribs for good measure, “and he’s definitely not my type,” her nose shrivelling up in disgust.

you snigger, poking robin right back as she explodes into her myriad of reasons why she would never date steve. she kept a list.

there’s a sickening feeling of affinity, like all the years you hadn’t been together just ceased to exist, they no longer mattered.

especially when your eyes meet as robin prattles on, like you’re sharing an old joke.

he doesn’t like this, doesn’t fancy his odds of coming out of this unscathed but that doesn’t stop him from shifting his chair closer as the night goes on. nor does it stop him from walking you home, supporting a tipsy robin on his arm.

and it most certainly doesn’t effect him when you hug him goodnight, nestling your chin into his shoulder the way you used to.

fuck.

steve climbs down the steps into the strange smelling studio, he hadn’t even known this ever existed. there’s art littering the walls, the shelves, just about any surface that was available.

you’re at the back of the empty room, dabbing a paintbrush onto a canvas, completely unaware of his presence.

“hey.. robin said you’d be down here,” he speaks softly, so as to not startle you.

you still jump, clutching your chest as you spin on your heel, “jesus christ,” panting rather dramatically, “you scared the shit outta me,” shock turning into a wide smile.

“sorry,” he chuckles, weaving through the easels, trying his damn hardest not to touch or knock anything over, “what ya’ working on?” peering at the canvas.

it’s a beautiful scene, a lone swing set lies in the middle, surrounded by a peachy-pink sunset. it’s reminiscent of something he can’t quite place.

“oh just..” shrugging him off, “some stuff for my exhibition.. i dunno if i like it yet,” downplaying the glorious work of art in front of him. as if there were any need.

“what are you talking about? it’s so good,” still clinging onto his backpack strap.

you shake your head, taking the apron off of your body, tossing it onto the hook full of other dirtied aprons. “i can do better.. anyway, did you trek all the way down here for a reason or..?”

he lingers by the painting for a second longer before turning to face you, remembering his actual aim, “yes! are you joining us for dinner tonight? robin wants you to meet all of our friends,” he offers, though he’s aware it’s not much of a deal for you.

“uh.. who’s gonna be there?” you ask, quirking a brow. he’s aware that you’re not exactly a social butterfly.

“well, nancy, jonathan, vickie.. argyle, if jonathan can convince him to come out,” they were all nice enough, if he and robin liked you, they definitely would too.

“i dunno..” wrinkling your nose.

“come on,” he pleads, “it’ll be fun.. they’ll love you. nance’s been begging me to get you out.. please?”

you shake your head, as if weighing up your options, “okay.. fine, but dinner’s on you,” as you drop the pallet into the sink for someone else to deal with.

“great,” he beams, there’s something to be said about the fact he still hadn’t introduced katie to the rest of his friends yet.. but he doesn’t wanna think about that.

his hand comes to rest on what he thinks is a dry desk, waiting for you to finish up, only to find his hand now covered in goopy white paint, “oh shit,” he fusses, pulling your attention from the sink.

“oh fuck, i should’ve told you that was wet..” looking between his outstretched hand and his eyes, a giggle bubbling on your lips as he stomps over to the sink.

“oh is this funny to you, huh?” joining you at the basin.

you run the hot water for him, grabbing the bottle of soap ready to clean his hand, “well it’s a little funny,” lips twitching while he stands like a lemon.

as steve normally does, he acts before he thinks, pressing his paint-covered palm to your cheek, only registering what he had done when you shriek in response, splashing water everywhere.

“you asshole!” you gasp, brows furrowed as you conjure up something for revenge.

that’s when you grab the still paint-covered brush and smear it over his cheek and nose, staining his features a daring bright orange.

“oh it’s like that is it?” he grins, grabbing your wrist with his clean hand, threatening to mark you again. “you don’t wanna mess with me, i’ve got the upper hand,” sticking his tongue out slightly, unable to shake the way your eyes still glistened the same.

“if you want me to come to dinner, you’ll put your hand down.. call a truce,” bargaining with him.

he obliges, holding his hands up in surrender, “okay.. okay, you win,” unable to contain his laughter as he washes the paint from his palm.

you shoulder barge him as you come back to the sink, pulling your clean brushes from the water and leaving them to dry on the metal board.

“we’re gonna have to swing by my room,” you smile begrudgingly, shoving your stuff into your bag, watching as he dries his hand.

“okay,” his grin still lingering, “personally, i think you should just come to dinner like that.. it looks great,” enjoying the ribbing that came with being your friend.

you scoff, practically pushing him out of the studio, ensuring he couldn’t wreck havoc on anything else.

the pair of you glide down the hall, steve filling you in on the guests that would joining you for dinner when a voice calls his name from in front.

katie bounds up to him, smile fading the second she sees the new colour of his face, “why are you orange?” face screwed up as she rescinds her offer of a kiss. he’s slyly thankful that your adorned his face now.

“oh we.. i- i tripped, got paint everywhere,” he chuckles, feeling like a scolded child.

katie hums, “right.. that’s kinda weird,” her eyes flit over to you and the paint on your face, “you trip too?” a judgemental look flashing across her features.

“no,” shrinking into yourself, “steve.. tripped,” doubting your own words, like your measly paint fight needed to be kept secret. but maybe that’s just how he felt, is that wrong?

he can’t decide.

“hmph,” katie frowns, her attention turning back to steve, “go and clean up.. you look like a clown,” before speeding off down the hall, ponytail flouncing around as she goes.

he just rolls his eyes continuing out of the building as you scurry along behind, “she seems nice,” sarcasm dripping off your tongue.

“ignore her,” brushing the whole encounter off, “she’s just.. pissy because i’m busy tonight, don’t take it personally,” offering a short smile. he glances at his watch, grimacing at the time, “oh shit, we’re late,” grabbing your hand as he starts sprinting ahead.

“i can’t meet your friends like this!” you holler, bounding behind him.

“they won’t mind!” he screams into the wind, dodging other students with a skill only possessed by someone who chronically sleeps through their alarm.

they really don’t.

in fact, robin bursts into laughter as you walk into the diner, “i’m not even gonna ask,” tapping the plush cushion for you to slide in next to her, steve follows closely behind.

the two of you share a look, an inside joke that was just yours. he liked that, it made him feel strangely important. like he was worthy of sharing things with just you.

everyone is lovely, obviously. he had no doubt that they would be. argyle corners you about california, discovering that it is a rather large state and no, you won’t have bumped into each other.

steve doesn’t want the night to end, he’s selfish like that. so he does the sane thing to ensure you spend as much time together as possible, walking you and robin back through campus, still adorned with paint.

“thank you.. for making me go,” you smile coyly once you reach your door, robin had already disappeared off inside, leaving just the two of you.

“no worries.. i told you they’d love you,” shoving his hands into his pockets, mostly so he doesn’t do anything stupid.

you chuckle, reaching for the door handle, “i’ve really missed you, you know? it’s like it’s all hit me at once,” shrugging your shoulders as if that were just some nonchalant comment he would ever be able to forget.

“i missed you too,” he adds, truly meaning it.

sure, he’d found friendship again but nothing had ever felt quite like you. it was different, and even now after years and years of being in separate states, with no idea that the other was even still alive, it all felt normal.

like you could walk back into that park tomorrow, sit on the swings and just natter away about everything and nothing like you used to.

“goodnight, see you tomorrow?” you smile, sliding through the door, waiting just long enough for his reply.

“of course,” returning the smile.

he hums all the way home, a child-like joy overrunning his senses. he thinks about you when he dreams, of sharing crayons and candy. high-pitched giggles and an unfaltering feeling of love.

it had been weeks of hanging out now, sharing tales from your childhood, robin was still struggling to understand that you were also from hawkins. “you’re just.. it’s crazy, you’re nothing like the usual hawkins dwellers and the fact that you were friends with him? wow..” she had muttered with a swift jab to steve’s arm.

she had had the bright idea of a sleepover, they hadn’t really been able to since moving to chicago, out of respect for their roommates but now her roommate was you, what was stopping them?

“why don’t we push the beds together?” robin blurts out, like a lightbulb had just gone ding on the top of her head.

you nod excitably, going to heave your bed across the room. steve pushes the end of the bed frame, connecting it to robin’s as she stands there doing absolutely nothing to help.

“phew thanks robin, couldn’t have done that without all your help!” steve quips, throwing his best friend a snide smile.

“shut up dingus, my nails are still wet,” as if that made it okay.

you smile at the two of them, stood in your pyjamas that steve had definitely not been gawping at. he doesn’t mean to, he knows it’s not like that. he has a girlfriend for christ’s sake.

that’s what he’s been telling himself anyway.

“you’re in the middle,” robin declares, looking at you, rather than him, “put your cold feet on somebody else for once,” before climbing into her side of the bed.

you slide in next, cuddling up to robin as you do. steve’s next, fashioned in his excuse for pyjamas, namely a chicago university shirt and his boxers. it probably wouldn’t go down well if katie were to find out but he didn’t particularly care.

there’s a joke there, something about sharing a bed with a lesbian and his childhood best friend but he can’t be bothered to think about it.

not when you turn over to face him, all smiles and warm cheeks, he has to remind himself that robin is on the other side of you, mumbling something about not waking her up early.

“goodnight,” you grin, relaxing into the pillow you shared as the light flickers off.

“night,” he replies, pulling his eyes away from your shadowy features, deciding that staring at the fuzzy ceiling was better than being a freak.

you roll over slightly, head falling onto his shoulder making his breathing falter, sworn to this position until you up and moved. it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.

he shouldn’t be thinking like this, you’re friends, old friends to be exact. and he has a girlfriend.

except, he awakens in the morning, stiff shoulder and a cricked neck, taking a peek at the other side of the bed to find robin had forced you into him with her sprawling limbs.

you rouse not long after he does, blinking at the light and hurriedly moving your head from his dead arm.

“oh my god,” you remark, “i’m sorry.. was i on you all night?” wriggling around the small space you held.

steve exhales, lifting his arm in the air in an attempt to get some blood flowing back into the extremity, “yup.. it’s okay though,” quickly rolling over to face you, “sleep well?”

“well, apart from robin’s foot in my back.. yeah, pretty well,” chuckling into the pillow as you shy away. he wishes you wouldn’t.

“then it was worth the dead arm,” returning your abnormally bright smile, you were far too chipper for this time in the morning but he didn’t mind. made a difference from the usual grump robin was in, for sure.

“you should sleep over more often,” you smile.

he heart soars, god he’d love to. “oh yeah? like we used to?”

the crinkle by your eye returns, remembering times gone by, “yeah, just like that,” speaking softly, as if it wouldn’t take an industrial alarm to wake robin.

“you wanna go get breakfast?” he asks, before this devolves any further.

“absolutely.”

there’s a knock at the door, tommy doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even make a half assed effort to pretend to care so steve huffs and gets up to answer.

you’re stood on the other side, already smiling as you wait. it’s a welcome sight, without robin he’s been a little stir-crazy, not yet brave enough to venture to your room without her there.

maybe he’s afraid that something would happen, maybe he’s not. he’s not entirely convinced that he’d have the power to stop himself.

“i just came to give you a ticket.. for my exhibition, it’s on saturday so.. if you’re busy i totally get it,” you fret, offering out the ticket to him.

there’s an undetermined feeling in his stomach, looking down at the paper ticket in his pal, warmth rushing to his chest at the fact you’d even considered him.

steve steps out of the room, closing the door behind him, away from tommy and listening ears. tommy and katie were friends somewhat, mostly by association through his girlfriend carol. anyhow, he wasn’t keen on him telling some misconstrued story to carol and then reaping the punishment from that.

“wow..” still starstruck that you had asked him. “i’ll be there.. wouldn’t miss it,” sliding the ticket into his pocket, mostly so he would stop looking like a weirdo for staring at it.

“okay,” you nod, smile up to your ears, “it’s only small..” here you go again, downplaying your talent as if steve would ever care.

“stop it,” he warns, jokingly rolling his eyes, “hey, i’ll walk you back.. i needa get out of that fucking room,” gesturing for you to take the lead.

you chatter all the way across campus, talking about everything and nothing, he wants to ask if that painting of the swingset will be there but doesn’t. letting you blabber on about composition and the asshole gallery manager that wants you to set up at 6am.

its only when you reach your hall that you stop, turning to face him with a genuine smile that makes his heart thud.

“it’d really mean a lot if you came..”

he nods, stepping closer only just, “i will, i’ll be there,” assuring you as much as he could. he meant it, too. there’s really nothing he could think of that would make him not go.

he allows his gaze to slip to your lips, he lets himself do that even though he shouldn’t.

studying the curve, the slight gap between your bottom and top lip, the way they twitch with what he hopes is anticipation.

you’re both inching closer, neither of you acknowledging what’s about to happen. the air is thick, silent even. a knowing sense that you’re either about to ruin everything or become something more.

two doors down, a door swings open, a voice bellowing out, “i’ll catch up!” before a boy speeds out, glancing at the two of you briefly before disappearing.

you clear your throat, averting your gaze, studying the dirtied floor, “okay.. i’ll see you saturday,” coy smile as you unlock the door and potter off inside.

steve stands there, blinking at the wooden frame as if you’d somehow materialise from the other side.

he hightails it back to his room, in some sort of daze as he attempts to reconfigure himself. his relationship and his friendship with you. nothing made sense.

he’s not sure it ever will again.

fuck he wishes robin were here. of course she’s at some stupid family reunion when he needs her most. his next port of call would be you and well.. that didn’t seem particularly helpful.

he errs on calling robin, floating around his room with no purpose. at least tommy was no where to be seen, unsure if he could’ve handled his beady little eyes and snooping questions.

katie would be waiting on him, he always stayed over on thursdays, at least he used to. before you were back i. the picture. before you had completely consumed his mind with your stupid smile and stupid face. both a distant memory and an important part of his current life. it’s fucking dizzying.

it’s not really stupid, he thinks he’s stupid actually.

steve does what he does best and decides to ignore his brain, grabs his keys and storms out of his dorm. he’s grateful that katie’s house is on the opposite side of campus from your building. that way he couldn’t accidentally wind up there instead of where he’s supposed to be.

she welcomes him in, a pink, frilly house that steve had always detested a little bit. it smelt too strongly of vanilla and the other girls always side-eyed him, bitter and judgemental over something he couldn’t figure out.

it’s now that they’re sat on katie’s satin bedsheets that he realises that he really, really doesn’t want to be here.

nevertheless, he swallows it down. putting on false pretences as they fake-watch the shitty rom-com she’d turned on to fill the silence.

“so.. have you got your suit for saturday?” katie asks, playing with his limp hand.

“yeah,” resisting the urge to move his hand away, “sorry- saturday? i thought it was tomorrow?”

katie had asked- or more precisely begged him to escort her to this senior send off ceremony. some bullshit sorority ritual that made zero sense to him.

“uh.. no, always been saturday,” she’s still smiling, still trying, “steve, i told you weeks ago,” her frustrations seeping out of her pores, spilling over onto her features.

“you said friday,” so sure of himself, so sure that she was wrong. how would he forget that?

unless something, or perhaps someone was shrouding his mind.

“well, what plans are more important than your girlfriend’s senior send off?” she asks, all defensive.

he struggles to answer, there’s no way he can really spin it to make it sound less bad, strangled noises drift from his throat as the words fail to form.

“exactly,” katie pouts, crossing her arms over her chest, “you’ll just have to rearrange.”

steve doesn’t stay over, makes up some shoddy excuse about needing to study to get out of it. she’s not happy, obviously, but when is she?

he’s grateful that the campus is quiet as he stalks back to his dorm, thoughts swirling through his brain. everything is so confusing, his cushy little college life had been majorly disrupted and now all of the plans he had made had come crashing down.

there had been conversations about finding a house after graduation, moving in together randomly starting their life and yet, that couldn’t be further than what he wanted.

at least now.

steve finally gives up, turning to the only person he thinks will rationalise his thoughts, robin buckley. who has pulled her grandmother’s phone into the private dining room just for this conversation.

“we nearly kissed,” he spits out, eyeing the group of drunk students passing in the hallway. wouldn’t it be great if it somehow got back to katie through some nosy busybody.

“what? when? why didn’t you call me sooner?” she demands, “why didn’t you kiss? oh my god steve harrington, you’re so useless.”

“uh.. what do you mean why didn’t we kiss? remember my girlfriend? who’d chop my balls off if i ever cheated on her?”

“who cares? nobody likes her anyway,” robin roars right into his ear.

“i’m not gonna even acknowledge that.”

“okay, well, did you want to kiss her?”

steve pauses, perplexing the situation. he doesn’t need to really, of course he wanted to.

“..yeah.”

“well there you go!” she shrieks.

“it felt.. weird, i dunno, i think she wanted to too,” he curls the cord around his finger, “and now katie wants me to go to this senior send-off thing but there’s the exhibition.. i don’t know what to do,” his shoulders slumping.

“wait wait wait, what do you mean it felt weird?” dismissing his dilemma. you know, the thing he had actually called her about.

“well it felt right.”

the line goes silent but he can still hear her faint breathing down the line. she’s thinking, probably attempting to sweeten up her words. but eventually she sighs, “i think you know what to do.”

“but i don’t! rob i really don’t! why do you think i’m calling you at fucking one am?”

she clicks her tongue and steve can picture what smug look she has on her face, it was a signature feature of hers, especially when she’d been able to prove him wrong. “you do. i think you called me because you wanted me to tell you what you want to hear.. but i don’t even need to do that.”

he wails into the receiver, all he’d wanted was a clear cut answer from his best friend. a little advice and maybe some confirmation bias, was that too much to ask for?

“you’re no help,” he scowls, patting his now empty pockets in search of more coins, “i haven’t got any more change.. i’m gonna have to go,” sighing as he’s left on his own with his head once more.

“you’ll do the right thing, steve. i know you and i trust you,” before the line cuts out, the dial tone screams out.

he slams the piece of useless plastic back onto the holder. that wasn’t helpful, rather just some weird, reverse psychology lesson. he feels cheated, his first option of just flipping a coin would’ve been more helpful.

his feet drag along the carpet back to his room, swallowing the guilt and all of the other confusing emotions he seemed to have accumulated.

it’s funny that even though robin hadn’t exactly said anything specific, he’d known what she was talking about. it’s even funnier that as he climbs into bed, all he can think about is you.

steve hangs back, stood at the back while the speech finishes. he doesn’t know what he’s doing here, what he’s supposed to be looking at or talking to, incredibly out of place.

no one pays him any mind, too interested in whatever this balding man has to say.

you don’t spot him either, keeping your eyes trained to the art director. he can tell you’re nervous, picking indiscreetly at your hangnail, chewing on your cheek. you’d never liked, or been particularly good at public speaking, steve was your voice for many years. not that he minded.

there’s lots of chatter, people walking around the small space with their hands behind their back, putting on this facade that they were art snobs and not just weird middle-aged people looking for something to do on a saturday afternoon.

they all sort of disperse, ogling the paintings and such. leaving him stood in the middle of the room like a lemon, wondering if he should just go over to you or wait until this had all finished.

but you meet his eye momentarily, head snapping in his direction when you realise who it is. your lips slowly curve into a smile, ditching the conversation to weave through everyone to him.

“you came,” you state, like there was ever a chance of him not coming.

“i told you i would,” he’s not one to break a promise. ever.

“no i know but, robin mentioned something about your girlfriend, she didn’t know if you were.. forget it,” throwing your hands about, ridding the air of your words.

he’s not exactly surprised that you’d have doubts, not after your almost-kiss the other night. he hadn’t seen you since, too busy with the exhibit to sit and dwell on it, he bets.

steve shakes his head, “nah, i had something more important to do,” full of unbridled exhilaration, it’s like his body knew he had made the right choice.

you flush, avoiding his eyes as you usually do when you’re nervous or embarrassed. “well.. thank you,” shrugging him off. he so wish you wouldn’t.

he decides to just lay it all bare, tired of skirting around the truth and minimising his obviously very real feelings. “this isn’t the right time but,” smoothing down his wrinkled shirt, “i just wanted you to know that i’ve wanted to do this for weeks and.. shit,” he sighs, cupping your cheek and moving in before you can protest.

your lips connect, sending flames through his veins, you’re not expecting it judging by the lack of movement on your part, stood frozen even as he pulls away.

“sorry,” the first thing he says, watching your face as you stand shocked.

he was so sure that his feelings would be reciprocated, had pretty much convinced himself that you were destined to grow grey together but maybe he’d got it all wrong.

his cheeks burn as you just blink, time slows and he wishes that the floorboards would just collapse under him so he could disappear forever.

in lieu of a reply, you smash your faces together again, this time steve’s not quite expecting it, your noses bang against each others. but he doesn’t move, his smile growing against your lips.

there are a collection of muttered oohs from the crowd. it was rather a lot for a saturday morning.

“sorry,” you echo, biting down into your bottom lip, “not the wrong time at all,” your eyes shining through your spindly lashes.

steve bursts into laughter, drawing an even bigger crowd of eyes as he does so. his eyes dart around the vaguely stunned audience, “hey look, find me after.. i’ll be here,” gently pushing you off to go and do whatever the hell it is that artists do at these things.

you nod, all dazed and smiley, immediately falling into conversation about a painting.

he’s only dozing when the door creaks open, too encapsulated by sleep to bother to open his eyes. you’re dead to the world, snoring softly curled into his chest.

a quiet gasp rings out from the door and then just as expected, robin bounds over to your bed, poking his arm that was both underneath your shoulders and hanging off of the bed.

he peeks a look at his slightly deranged best friend, the lamp was just bright enough to showcase her enthusiastic grin, “you did it!” whispering far too loudly, “i knew you’d make the right choice,” buzzing around the room.

she damn near jumps in the air, clicking her heels together like some freak.

steve just closes his eyes again, falling back into sleep with a grin on his face and you between his arms.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic

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abditorial · 4 months

Note

I would sell my liver for you to write inumaki x reader smut where the reader teaches inumaki how to drive (or vice versa) and they end up fugging in the back seat 😩

Don’t worry mousie, you can keep that liver! I would write this for free. I will write this for free!

You didn’t specify reader gender… So I’m picking AFAB reader, but if you wanted AMAB I will HAPPILY rewrite, just let me know!

YOU NEVER BEEN WITH NO ONE AS NASTY (as me!)

SPICE UP YOUR LIFE, COME GET A FREAK…

FT. Inumaki Toge

X F!READER

WARNINGS: 18+, AFAB reader, They/Them pronouns, non-curse AU, Inumaki can speak normally but is very quiet overall, established relationship.

An abandoned grocery store parking lot where was you had learned how to drive initially. It was a discreet location where no authority bothered to check, as it was a waste of time, so they typically wouldn’t say anything if someone without a license was taking a car out for a little test drive to pick up a few new tricks. This is why you had chosen to take Toge to that same empty parking lot so that he could understand what it was like behind the wheel.

For about a week now you had been teaching your boyfriend how to drive. He was way too old to still be asking for rides everywhere, and eventually it came to a point where you had to scold him a bit before coming to the agreement that you would teach him and he’d eventually take himself places without needing you to do it for him. Toge was an excellent learner; He picked up on things quickly, and seemed to be a natural at the whole driving thing. In fact, he probably would have been good enough to go get his license already…

If it weren’t for you distracting him every two seconds. You weren’t doing it on purpose, but you had to understand that the way your lips would curl up into that cute, innocent smile whenever he did something good and complimented him on his work that the tent in his pants was not just from the way he was sitting. Perhaps it was also just the risk-factor— Abandoned or not, having sex in a parking lot was still semi-public and the thought of someone hearing or seeing you two was a big turn on for him.

Every night, after your little lessons with him, he’d have to rut his hips up into the makeshift hole he created with his hands, gasping and whimpering out your name so quietly as to not disturb his roommates. The shame flooded his body whenever cum spurted all over stomach and palms, but at the same time he felt so much better after releasing all that pent up arousal. Of course Toge felt bad for turning such a wholesome act into something twisted and dirty, but what could he do about it? Stop thinking? Right.

Today was the final straw, though. The time where he had to genuinely question if you were doing all of this on purpose or not because the way you palmed the top of that stick shift couldn’t just be a coincidence. Your well manicured fingers drifted down towards the shaft, dancing along the surface before wrapping around its cylindrical form and pulling back to put the car in park. The entire display had Toge mentally groaning, burying his face in his hands with frustration.

His hand reached out to cover yours on the shift, muttering your name in a rather soft tone to get your attention. You turned your head with that same innocent smile, but it melted away as soon as you saw the genuine passion burning in his eyes, like he was undressing you in his mind. It made your heart hammer against your rib cage, your throat became suddenly very dry before eliciting a nervous laugh.

“Toge—?” You were cut off when he leaned forward to press his lips against yours. It wasn’t the hot, passionate kiss you had expected based on the way he was burning his gaze into you, but it was gentle and tender. His lips slowly moved against yours, grunting into your mouth while one hand trailed up to the hem of your shirt, tugging on it lightly. The other ran over your inner thigh, the tips of his fingers brushing against the crotch of your blue jeans that hugged your hips nicely.

You don’t know how, because you were so caught up in such a passionate moment, but eventually the pair of you had drifted to the back seat where he finally let his urges take over. Lanky, thin hands were eager to yank your shirt off like it was the last think they’d do; they fumbled around with your bra afterwards. He tried to unclasp it with one originally, but eventually he discarded the item of clothing after using both. Goes to show how being too desperate will get you nowhere.

He was quick to play with your pretty tits. Toge even pulled his mouth away from yours, letting his saliva-soaked lips leave a trail of sloppy kisses from your jaw to one of your nipples, latching on to nip and suck at it lightly. You gasped and threw your head back slightly, staring down at him through hazy eyes while your fingers clumsily tugging his shirt off over his head. He was a skinny twig of a man, but you didn’t mind. You loved running the pads of your fingers up and down his stomach, feeling every ridge and bump along the way from the dips in his skin to the hammering of his heart.

“I want to feel all of you,” He muttered in a daze, his voice almost coming out like a pathetic whine against your perfect skin. Toge’s mouth had now made its way to your neck and collarbone, sucking just hard enough to let a dark purple mark form that would definitely show the next day. You didn’t care in the slightest. “All of you… Around me so tightly.”

Your back arched when a shiver ran through it. Toge was a man of few words, but whenever he spoke it never failed to make you feel all giddy inside. Right now your stomach was full of butterflies begging to be released, and he had every intention to help let them out. “Toge, please…”

“Please what?” He answered without hesitation. He knew what you wanted, and he delivered with how he pulled you up onto his lap after desperately yanking your jeans off. Both of you wrestled with the simple pair of pants for a moment, but as soon as they were off his hands were grabbing you like his last meal. “Use your words.” He mumbled in your ear from behind, chest pressed against your back while his arms were wrapped around you to gently squeeze your breasts.

“Please fill me up…” Your cheeks had grown warm. Usually you were not quick to fluster, but this was a side of him you had never seen before and it, in turn, brought a new side out of yourself. He nipped at the lobe of your ear whilst his palms traveled down to your panties, rubbing you through the fabric just to feel how wet you were. Your cunt clenched around nothing and caused you to give a desperate whine. “Don’t tease me.”

“Don’t boss me around,” he rebuked almost immediately. Though, despite his disapproval of your bossy words, he did just as you said and quit with the teasing. Toge was eager to get what he wanted, so he wasted no time pushing those panties to the side and sliding the mushroom-like tip of his perfectly carved cock into your aching hole. He hissed, letting out what seemed to be like a mix of a gasp and a groan into your back, which his lips were pressed up against. His stomach contracted and his hands gripped your waist tighter. “F-… Fuck!”

Meanwhile, you were grabbing onto the headrests of the front seats for dear life while he sunk his dick into you at an unbearably slow pace. You could feel yourself stretching out to welcome him inside, but it was so blissful to be filled to the brim again. Once he bottomed out, he lingered for just long enough to let you fully adjust. He even allowed your hips to wiggle around on his lap.

It wasn’t long before, with the help of his hands on your hips, you were bouncing up and down on his lap. Mind you, you started at a snail’s pace as to not harm yourself, but with a bit of practice you were soon practically slamming yourself down onto him. Every upwards thrust of his hips made you cry out with ecstasy, eyes going cross at the sensation of his tip rubbing against every sensitive spot you had.

The lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass filled the car, and could probably be heard from the outside too. If anyone was passing by, they’d certainly know you were being treated well based on the hardcore shaking and intricate noises coming from within. “Toge,” you panted out. “I want to cum- Please…”

“Can’t deny my girl… Of her orgasm,” he grunted in between soft moans. Toge’s hands held onto you tighter, nails digging into your skin in order to lift you up and then pull you back down onto his length. “Cum for me, then.”

You clenched around him before your walls started to spasm. With one last thrust, you bottomed out again as a cry came from deep within your throat, climbing it’s way out just as your orgasm did. You were covered in sweat when you came down from your high, hands loosely holding on to the front seats now. Inumaki had lazily bucked his hips up into you a few more times before he pulled out, shooting his load all over your back rather than inside.

Pulling you tight to his chest, he slumped against the back seats. Both of you were panting, sweaty messes as you sat there silently trying to recover from that session.

“I learned a lot today,” he finally spoke, making you laugh weakly.

“I bet.”

Guys I. heheh. I felt good writing that.

Side note… I think I would NOT be opposed to people sending in requests for Genshin characters too? I don’t know, I saw this one Tartaglia cosplay that made me go absolutely feral, I’ve been reading and writing so much filth lately. HEHE!!

As always, requests are open. Find more information here…

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pyro-chaos · 6 months

Text

Mike Schmidt x Reader

Pt: 3 Friday Nights

Summary: Abby’s first sleepover gives you and Mike some alone time.

The friendship continues

Tropes: fluff, sultry thoughts but no explicit smut.

Word count: 3337

And they were roommates…

Pt. 3 of This Series

A\N: Hey!! So I’m a bit more insecure about this one than I am with my previous two parts. I still think it’s sweet, and I like how it turned out, but let me know if I should do a rewrite!!

“I mean truly, the stark change within Abby…”

The school counselor’s words fall on ears occupied with something else.

“….I mean I’ve never seen…”

Mike tried to pay attention - at the beginning - but eventually the words tangled together to create a meaning the counselor could’ve communicated with one or two sentences.

“… so quickly. Whatever you’re doing, it’s clearly…”

Plus, Mike has more important things on his mind.

“… good that she has someone like you.”

Mike barely catches the end of her…seemingly endless lecture.

He hears the compliment. It feels unwarranted but Mike politely grins anyway.

Mike has questions. He has so many questions.

The problem that the counselor is referring to… Abby healed it on her own, mostly. Her friends helped her - but crawling out of her shell - thats all her. Mike just made sure she didn’t die. Even then…

He still feels stabbing guilt; a lot of the time. For what he almost did.

“Sh - She gets nightmares, sometimes,” Mike does too, but this isn’t about him.

“is” he gulps down the lump in his throat, “- is there anything I can do?”

The counselor folds her hands together like she’s trying to explain something to a feral child. Mike recognizes the gesture. It’s not one of genuine kindness; it’s the kind of gesture someone enacts when dealing with a delicate situation.

“Does she talk to anyone? About the nightmares.”

Mike huffs, “she’s pretty tight lipped about it,” but he knows that she wants them to stop.

“No,” the counselor almost sounds amused, Mike tries not to let the tone offend him.

“I mean does she talk to anyone about it.”

Ah. He gets it now.

“You mean like a shrink?” He questions.

The counselor nods and gives him a look doused in sympathy. It makes Mike want to get up and leave.

“Can’t afford it.”

“Ah,” she says, before launching into another lecture about how to avoid dreams, and calm anxiety before bed.

Mike listens this time.

The day after the meeting, Mike goes about his day.

Everything goes how it’s supposed to go. He goes to work, coordinates with his project supervisor, and eats lunch.

Until he gets a call from Abby’s school.

When Mike’s coworker, Jordan, calls him out of the work room, he says it’s an emergency.

Mike’s heart fucking palpitates. He almost drops the damn drill.

He’s never struggled to take off his gloves, or unclip the bulky helmet, but he does now. His hands get clammy and hot. It gets hard to breathe.

Mike’s still has the safety goggles on when he gets to the phone.

“Hello? What’s wrong?”

Abby’s voice comes through the other end, “Can I have a sleepover with Selina?”

Mike exhales. He rips the safety goggles off and rubs the bridge of his nose.

He takes one more deep breath before answering, “Is that all you called to ask?”

Abby confirms before launching into an explanation, “Please, please. Katy is going, and so is Josie and Sofia and they’re making cookies and Silena has a trampoline.”

Mike’s tapping the phone, his fingers feel tingly and that urge to hold his breath comes back, “Look, I don’t think that’s a good -“

“- No, It’s fine. They have a trampoline Mike, please.”

She doesn’t get it.

That’s the hardest part. She doesn’t understand that she’s not safe at someone else’s house. Overnight? What if there’s a fire? or what if she can’t sleep?

Mike remembers the school counselor's words about Abby’s progress. He would’ve taken her opinion with a grain of salt, if he didn’t see it for himself.

Even according to Mike’s independent observation; Abby’s started to smile around other kids a lot more compared to before.

In fact, she’s planning fucking sleepovers with other kids.

Mike thinks about his mom.

What would their parents do?

“I want to talk to Selina’s parents first.”

So, Mike does end up talking to Selina’s parents.

He meets them in the parking lot after school.

They explain the whole ordeal. Their plans and the occasion that sparked the sleepover.

They seem normal. They remind Mike of coworkers his dad used to invite to 4th of July grills.

The mom - Janice - works at the hospital, and the dad - Sean - works at a bakery.

Sean and Janice give Mike their house address. So, he knows where to drop off Abby after she goes home to pick up clothes and a sleeping bag.

When Mike enters the car, he’s greeted with two sets of expectant gazes.

Mike’s eyes shift between the two of you, Abby’s grinning, but you just look sheepish.

Mike rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, “make sure to pack your toothbrush.”

Abby smiles on the way home.

You're in the living room when just Mike walks through the door.

You have pajamas on, and you’re lounging on a loveseat tilted towards the TV. A mug of wine rests on the coffee table. Along with some type of cheese and cracker.

Something smells good.

“There’s food on the stove, it should still be hot” you call, then eat a cracker.

Mike beelines a straight shot to the kitchen, “Thanks.”

You mhm through a mouthful.

Mike can’t wait to eat, but when he reaches for a plate he sees the specks of sawdust layering his clothes.

He clenches his jaw, and counts backwards from ten.

“Hey, uh, I’m gonna shower first, but if you leave the dishes I’ll do them later.”

Your eyes stay glued to the TV, “Okay, there’s also wine on the top of the fridge. If you want any.”

Mike showers and dresses. When he returns to the kitchen, the quietness hits him square in the face.

Abby’s not in the house, and it feels like he’s forgetting something important - Like his keys are missing, or he lost his wallet - It puts him on edge.

Despite his unease, something sweet and warm, like syrup, spreads through Mike when he serves himself a portion of dinner.

It’s mostly covered up by the gray-haired worry about Abby at someone else’s house, but Mike won’t deny the comfort of having a good meal, and wine, after working.

Mike doesn’t know how he did it when he lived alone with Abby. He had to cook, clean, and pay bills. All on his own.

Back before you, Mike would have to leave in thirty minutes for his second shift of the day.

Mike wonders if Abby enjoys the new schedule as much as he’s enjoying it.

He brings the food and the wine to the coffee table, and sits on the sofa adjacent to your loveseat.

Mike has no idea what the fuck you’re watching, but it seems…interesting.

He doesn’t care to complain, though. It’s not like he’s invested in the show.

A few beats of comfortable silence fly by before you speak, “How was work?”

Your question feels like an embrace. It’s the type of question that someone asks when they want to talk, but can’t think of anything else to say.

You want to talk to Mike, and it makes him feel some type of way.

Maybe it’s not that deep.

“Good - long - what’re we watching?”

“No idea. I think she,” you point to a character, “wants to do something that he-” you point to a different character, “doesn’t like. So, she’s going behind his back and stuff. But I’m just watching this because I like the show that comes on next, and I don’t wanna miss it.”

Mike hums through his food. He kind of wants to ask why you’re not going out. It’s Friday night.

Are you feeling alright? What’s different about this Friday from all the other Fridays?

Instead he does the dishes.

When he returns, he’s still not really paying attention to your show. Even though, every now and then you’ll add commentary. He just mhm’s through it.

Does Abby remember his number in case she wants to go early? What if she gets too cold in their house? What if she has a nightmare? Would she call him?

His fingers are pulling apart the threads at the arm of the couch, and his leg is bouncing.

He drinks more wine.

“- about it?”

Mike snaps out of his head, “uh,” he tries to blink himself awake, “- sorry, what?”

You shrug and gesture to his fingers pulling apart the couch, “you’re um,” you clear your throat, “you seem… off. Do you want to talk about it?”

He…didn’t even notice that he was fidgeting with the threads like that.

“Oh,” he chuckles, but the sound comes out sounding more awkward, and nervous than amused, “is it that obvious?”

“No, no not at all,” you make eye contact with him, and that creamy comfort returns to make a sugary home in Mike’s chest.

“Well…” you begin, “…Kinda, yeah.”

This time, the laugh you pull out of Mike sounds genuine. Even to him.

It’s not a huge laugh, more of a happy scoff really, but it makes him feel a little better nonetheless.

“It’s just…” Mike starts, and you direct your body to face him instead of the TV.

Even though your show is playing. You want to listen to Mike more than you want to watch your show.

He has to fight down a smile, “…this is the first time Abby’s had a sleepover.”

Your mouth makes an O-shape, and you nod like you’ve got it all figured out.

“Yeah, the first time is always the hardest.”

That makes Mike think. How would you know?

“My mom used to get so nervous when my brother started going to sleepovers,” you add.

Your understanding of his nervousness makes sense, given the backstory, but there’s a detail in that sentence about you, and it means something to him.

“You have siblings?”

You nod excitedly, “a brother and a sister.”

Mike literally has no idea how he’s never heard about this before, “how - how old are they?”

“My sister’s seventeen. She’s a junior in High school,” you’re talking with your hands as you talk about your siblings. You seem excited, It’s making Mike smile.

“You should see her play sports, she's the Volleyball team captain this year…”

For real, you’re talking about them like you’re proud, and the genuine joy in your tone makes Mike want to crawl up next to you.

“- and my brother’s heading into middle school but he’s such a sweet kid. He used to get so excited when we went to the park. He loves to climb trees.”

It sounds like you haven’t seen them in a while.

The stories connect a few dots for Mike, though. This is why you’re good with Abby.

You and Mike end up talking more, he blames the wine.

Apparently, he gets chatty when he feels that familiar alcohol-induced warmth in his stomach.

Eventually, he asks why you didn’t go out on a Friday night.

The answer is much simpler than he expects.

“My show finally came out with a new season, and the new episodes air on Fridays.”

Mike snickers. His amusement comes at the expense of himself. Of course it was something simple, he doesn’t know why he even bothered to speculate.

He doesn’t expect you to return the question. But you do.

“ - it’s your night off, Abby’s taken care of, and don’t you miss going out and doing your own thing?”

Well, to be honest, he never really had the time. For years, Mike spent nights occupied with…something he doesn’t need to do anymore.

He can’t tell you that, though.

So he says, “Nah, I never went out. Even before Abby.”

“Is it ‘cause you don’t like crowded spaces?”

Mike doesn’t think too hard about that, but he snickers because it feels like you pulled it out of a hat.

He snickered again. He’s doing that a lot around you.

It’s probably just the wine.

“No? Just never had the time.”

You nod, but then you get that wide-eyed excited look that you got when you asked Mike to move in with you,

“Wanna go out tonight?”

If anyone, ever, asked about why Mike agreed as quickly as he did, he’d blame the wine. He’d blame the wine until he went blue in the face and died of suffocation.

He doesn’t even admit to himself that the wine isn’t the reason he said yes.

After he agrees, you tell him about a place that you think he’d like.

You say that it’s, “like a botanical garden, but they put lights up, and serve food, at night.”

You tell him that it’s not crowded, like a bar or club, because technically it’s a fancy place, and that’s why you both need to change clothes before calling a cab.

So, Mike calls a cab. Then, he puts on a button-down shirt, and throws on a pair of his nice jeans.

Still, he feels slightly, very, underdressed compared to you.

You come out of your room wearing an elegant little black dress that hugs parts of you in a way that makes Mike blush and breathe heavy.

Your neck stays uncovered. He sees the skin where the hickies used to be, but this time there’s no hickies.

Mike can think of a way to change that.

His dick jumps, and he wishes he could do something about it.

You make him feel things that he doesn’t want to feel.

“You ready?” You ask, and Mike has to swallow and take a deep breath to keep himself in check.

He’s very ready. Just, not in the way you think.

“Uh, yeah. Are - are you?”

You smile and nod.

The cab drive goes well. Mike’s getting used to the tightness in his pants.

So, that place that you’d said he’d like, he does.

At first, it felt like he didn't belong. A lot of people dressed better than him, many have their hair in hairstyles, and he can’t pronounce more than half the food on the menu.

You can, though.

To be fair, the menu ended up as a non-problem; because after you pointed out the prices, Mike gave you a look, and you gave him the same look back.

You both scurried out of the seating area before an employee could take any orders.

Mike likes the botanical garden.

He likes how you talk in the botanical garden.

It costs to get in, but it’s gorgeous.

It's the twilight hour when you walk through the pathway together.

Sometimes your arms brush.

Every time it happens, Mike’s heart fills with something, but you don’t seem affected.

He glances at your fingers throughout the walk. He starts to note the little divots in your palms. How would they feel against his? Would you be mad? If Mike picked up your hand and kissed the palm?

You talk about the practical uses of plants that you see. Mike learns that dried-up yarrow leaves can help clot blood. He also learns that solar energy powers the lights shining on the rows of green life.

You talk about how cool it is, that the owners made this place one-hundred-percent sustainable, and he can’t help but agree.

Your smile infects him with feelings that flutter through his arteries, and you’re smiling a lot.

Eventually, conversation lulls, but it’s the nice kind of lull. It’s a quiet comfort, like warm sheets and fresh tea.

There’s a greenhouse exhibit towards the end of the pathway. A worker checks in your coat, then tells you where to pick it up at the end of the exhibit.

When he first steps inside, Mike nearly goes into shock over the change in temperature. It’s hot, and he has to roll up his sleeves immediately or risk complaining about it.

It doesn’t help.

The place smells good, though; like moist soil and moss.

The greenhouse has fairy lights hanging overhead, and multicolored flowers decorate the pathway.

It’s laid out like a maze, the illuminated path winds around little islands of floral beauty.

Mike likes the palm trees. Most of them have pretty colored lights wrapped around the trunk.

It’s nice, Mike won’t deny the otherworldliness of the beauty, but honestly, he wouldn’t enjoy it as much if you weren’t there.

You bring a certain excitement to the excursion that Mike doesn’t think he can feel on his own.

You ask him if he likes plants, and honestly, he’s never thought about it.

He shrugs says they’re nice, because they are, and they’re starting to remind him of you.

His shirt collar is drenched in sweat by the time you two get to the end of the greenhouse.

He’s self-conscious about the wetness at first, but then he sees your neck.

It makes him want to do other things that would make you sweat.

The garden isn’t that populated right now. He could do it, if you wanted it too.

Lift up your skirt, press his dick against the plush of your ass. He’d nuzzle his nose into the crook of neck, and breathe you in before dragging his tongue along your nape.

He’d grab a fistful of your tits from the front of your dress.

He would take off your panties, but he wouldn’t give them back. He’d keep them in his pocket like a treasured souvenir.

Would you like it? If Mike made you walk around with wetness staining your inner thighs?

Maybe you’d find it demeaning, to be forced to walk around like that, but maybe you wouldn’t.

Mike’s very glad that it’s nighttime, because it’s too dark for you to see the outline of his half-hard dick.

The pathway leads to an outdoor bar.

The counter rests under a gazebo-like structure. Vines curl around the pillars like the lights on the palm trees, and quiet music plays over the chatter of the customers.

The bartender greets you by name.

You introduce the bartender to Mike as Miranda, and it takes him a moment to realize that he’s seen her before.

Miranda comments on it before he does. Mike probably wouldn’t have anyway.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you before, you’re the roommate right?” Miranda asks, and Mike gives her a tight-lipped grin.

“Yeah, it’s nice to officially meet you,” he returns.

“Yeah you too,” she says, “Anyway, is there anything I can get you guys? Completely on the house.”

You get a little wide-eyed at that, “Hey no, it’s okay, we can -“

“- I still owe you for dinner last week, remember? It’s fine. Tequila sunrise?”

You ease into your barstool, a soft, yeah spilling from your lips.

Mike thinks it's cute.

However, Miranda’s attention moves to Mike, and his panic chases away the good feelings.

Mike’s never been to a bar like this before. He’s not sure what to order, he’s not sure how, “uh, what do you have?”

Miranda gestures to the bottles behind her, “I can make anything as long as we have the ingredients. What do you usually drink?”

He doesn’t.

“Do you have anything…” Mike’s cheeks are heating, he can feel it, it’s making him feel dumb, “…non-alcoholic?”

Miranda doesn’t judge his inability to order quickly. It helps.

“Yeah, I can do virgin drinks. What were you thinking?”

God, all these questions. He doesn’t like turning down free shit, but he’s starting to feel tempted to.

“What’s popular?”

“Piña Coladas and Strawberry Daiquiris are the most popular virgin drinks, but we also have fountain drinks if that sounds better.”

“Strawberry Daiquiris are good, they’re like slushies.” You interject.

Mike orders a Strawberry Daiquiri.

When Miranda leaves, Mike feels like he can breathe again.

Mike wonders, if you notice the nervousness behind the way he’s crossing his arms, because you smile, and tell him that he looks nice in a button-down.

Miranda returns with free drinks before he can think himself into a hernia.

Abby would like the Strawberry Daiquiri.

For the rest of the night, Miranda makes stops at yours and Mike’s corner of the bar.

Miranda’s presence made Mike uncomfortable at first, because he doesn’t know her, but your friend pulls him into conversations in ways that he doesn’t mind.

It helps that Mike likes how you look at him when Miranda asks him a question.

He likes how you’re paying attention to him, even when your friend is right in front of you.

Miranda comes out from behind the bar when you mention that it’s getting late.

She gives you a hug first, then she shakes Mike's hand.

Her touch makes him think of your palms.

When the two of you get home, it’s just a little past 10 p.m.

Mike wants to thank you, for showing him a place like that, and for spending your evening with him.

He didn’t have to spend the night cooped up, worrying himself into a frenzy, because you brought him out.

The gratitude gets stuck in his throat.

What does he say? Hey, thanks for spending a night around me! Let’s do it again sometime!

Well, sure, he could say that, but he would rather stay quiet.

He doesn’t want to come off too strong, he doesn’t want to give you a peek into the meat of him.

He’s surprised when you say something.

“Thank you for coming out. I had fun.”

The words come out a little awkwardly, like you’re unsure.

Mike’s eyes find yours, and the little smile in the corner of your lips makes him feel better - despite the quiet house.

He licks his lips and offers you a similar small grin, “Yeah, Me too.”

And he means it.

A/N: Although I feel conflicted about this chapter, I’m very thankful for the love you’ve given me on the previous two!

I hope you enjoyed!

#fnaf movie #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #fnaf #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson #josh hutchinson

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supernovafics · 3 months

Text

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k words

warnings: explicit language

summary: in which you join steve during his family video shift and help him study for a test

author's note: nothing much to say about this one. short and sweet<33

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

“Can I have some help?”

You looked up from your notebook to see a guy standing a few feet in front of you with a small frown on his face. Your head shake in response to his question was immediate. “Oh, no, I don’t work here.”

His frown seemed to only deepen. “But, you’re sitting behind the counter.”

“Yeah, that probably makes things confusing, but I don’t work here,” You responded with a small laugh. You took a brief look at Steve, who was stocking tapes in one of the aisles. “I’m just here to help a friend and make sure he doesn’t fail out of his first ever college classes. Big English test tomorrow. The first one of the semester, actually.”

The guy rolled his eyes at your unnecessarily long explanation and then walked off, and your attention turned back to your notebook and you continued writing notes, or more so rewriting notes, for Steve.

When he finished stocking shelves, he walked over to you, leaning on the counter and looking down at what you were doing. You ripped out the pages you had been working on for the past hour and slid them over to him. “Okay, I have compiled all of the shit that you’ll need to know for the test tomorrow on these two pages, front and back. Enjoy.”

Steve gave you a small smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but it was actually pretty easy since you’re taking the class with the same Professor I had last semester; I mainly just redid the notes that I had for that first test. And it only took me like an hour.”

“Thanks, but shouldn’t you be worrying more about your test tomorrow?”

You shrugged. “I just have to give a presentation on the rise of radio for my communications class, and I’ve been preparing for the last couple days. I’ll be fine.”

Steve nodded at that and started looking at the notes you gave to him. You moved from behind the counter and went over to the comedy section and started to look through the shelves.

“Oh, also, can I get a vest and a nametag? Everyone already thinks I work here, anyway.”

“No,” Steve responded almost immediately, which made you laugh. After a second, he walked over to you, papers still in hand. “Surprisingly, I actually remember most of this stuff.”

You smiled at that. “Glad to know you’ve been paying attention in class.” You then showed him the movie you had just pulled off of the shelf. “Thoughts on this for tonight?”

Steve looked at the title for a second before answering. “The person that returned it yesterday said it was shit.”

“Okay, so that’s a no,” You said as you put the tape back in its spot. “Anyway, though, it's good that you remember a lot of stuff already, so when I quiz you on everything later, it’ll be fast.”

He shook his head. “You’re being way too nice to me right now.”

“You told me that you actually wanted to care about your classes and do well in them, so of course I’m gonna help you do that.”

You could’ve gone further into that conversation that you two had a few days before the beginning of the semester, but you didn’t feel the need to fully repeat it aloud right then. Steve had talked to you about wanting to figure out his life, finding what he wanted to do long-term that wasn’t Family Video related, and maybe going to school part-time and taking a few classes would help with that. It wasn’t about his parents, it wasn’t really even about you. It was about him and you admired that, and you also wanted to help him figure everything out. Maybe it could help you figure out all of your shit too.

“Also, if you dropped out after this semester it would actually be devastating to know that our first time ever going to the same school only lasted four and a half months.”

Steve laughed a bit. “I’m not gonna drop out.”

“And I’m completely holding you to that.”

You went back to searching for a movie for later, and after what felt like forever you settled on something that sounded good enough.

Things became pretty quiet for the rest of the night, so you were able to quiz Steve on the notes a couple times, and then you focused on the reading you had to do for the Film and TV history class that he suggested you two take together. Your collective eleven o’clock on Tuesdays and Thursdays mainly consisted of you two playing tic-tac-toe with one another in the margins of Steve’s notebook or writing stupid notes back and forth, and still paying some attention to the lectures that were actually pretty interesting. Aside from Steve being in the class, you really enjoyed it for the most part.

“This article was actually pretty good,” You said. The clock finally hit eleven and Steve went over to the front door to turn the Open sign to Closed. “I think you’ll like it.”

“What’s it about again?”

“Silent films,” You answered as you started putting all of your stuff in your bag. You then picked up the movie you grabbed earlier and went over to one of the computers, looking up the name of it and changing it from in stock to checked out. “Since I know how to do this, I think I definitely deserve a vest and nametag.”

“I would say that’s true, but you only do that for yourself, not for any customers,” He responded with a laugh.

“In a way, I am a customer.”

“Paying customers.”

“I use the “best friend of an employee” discount, which is a hundred percent off,” You said, smiling at him, and then smiling even more when he rolled his eyes at you.

“What movie did you end up choosing, anyway?”

You held up the tape in your hand, Weird Science. “Now I’m thinking that I should’ve chosen a silent film to honor our history class.”

“I’m really glad you didn’t,” Steve responded before stepping out from behind the counter. You slung your bag over your shoulder and followed him to the front.

“Once you read the article, you’ll wish that I picked one of Buster Keaton’s greatest hits,” You said as you flicked off the lights before you two walked out the door.

Steve locked it and then looked at you. “I truly doubt that.”

You only overdramatically sighed and shook your head at him in response as you got in his car, tossing your bag into the backseat. You fiddled with the radio for pretty much the entirety of the fifteen minute drive to the apartment, and you held back your laughter at Steve’s playful groans in frustration at your antics.

When you two stepped into the small space that was your shared home, you changed into your pajamas for the night before settling on the couch, and you quizzed Steve one more time for his test. And then he made you run through your presentation for your class tomorrow because he felt bad about you only helping him study.

The time was nearing midnight when Steve warmed up some of the leftover pizza from the night before as you started the movie. You two fell asleep barely thirty minutes in, your head on his shoulder and a blanket draped over both of your legs that were stretched out on the coffee table.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things series

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lyak12 · 1 month

Text

Food Poisoning

A/N: I've read a few days ago that our one and only Lucy Bronze played with food poisoning in the 2015 world cup quarter finals... I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, and @helen-with-an-a and I have been talking this through for a good while, haha. I mean, Lucy is basically super human at this point, but I still had to rewrite it. It takes place at the semi-finals of the last World Cup and I'm really putting Sarina on the spot here and making her a bit of the bad guy... I just want to clarify that I don't have anything against her. I just needed a bad guy and she happened to be there. Also you're in for a long one, we're talking almost 7k... my longest one yet. I hope you like it though and thanks again for the help @helen-with-an-a 💕

w/c: almost 7k

Warnings: Throwing up, pain, a bit of Angst and arguments

It is the world cup and you won the quarter finals. Tomorrow is the big day. The semi finals. It's not your first world cup but you're still a bit anxious. You want to win this. You want this not only for the team but especially for Lucy. She finally deserves the world cup title.

Tomorrow however were the semifinals and they were at least just as important if not more than the final itself.

Lucy and you have been dating for a while and it's openly known in the team but that also means during tournaments you usually get diffrent roommates. Which neither of you mind since you're there to play football not to share a room. You're currently sharing a room with Leah and you love it. You two get along so well.

As you wake up that morning the nerves in your belly are already building. You're an early bird so you're getting up before Leah and take your time in the bathroom. You're also always the first to text your girlfriend good morning.

Today however instead if receiving a good morning back LJ, Lucy's roomie, texted you if you're awake already. You immediately text back, wondering why she's texting you this early but with the next message you understood why.

'I don't know what's wrong but Lucy is not feeling great. She didn't want me to text you but I think you'd want to know and come check on her' - LJ texts

'I'll be right there' - you immediately text back and grab your stuff before jogging over to their room. LJ lets you in and you ask "What's wrong?" However Lauren doesn't even have to answer as you hear Lucy throwing up in the bathroom. You quickly throw your things on the bed before making your way into the bathroom.

"Shh, it's okay. I got you, love", you say as you gather her hair that fell out of the bun and start to rub her back. She just retches again before she coughs and says "I told LJ not to text you." "Yeah well, I'm glad she did. Are you done?", you ask softly and she just nods. You help her up and guide her to the sink as you flush the toilet.

Looking at your girlfriend, you can tell she is still feeling like utter shit. "Shh deep breath, what's wrong Baby?", you say as you slip your hand under her shirt and rub her back slightly. She feels a bit sweaty but you put that off on the throwing up.

"I don't know, I'll be okay. I just need a second", Lucy says trying to convince herself she's fine. You hand her some water and she drinks a few sips before the both of you make your way back into her room.

"You okay, Bronzey?", Lauren asks softly and Lucy just nods but Lauren can see in your eyes that you're worried. Lucy quickly gets dressed before all three of you make your way to breakfast. You can see that your girlfriend is still nauseous and you honestly don't know what she wants at breakfast but if there's one thing, it's that Lucy has her own mind.

In the elevator you rub over her back slightly and she gives you a weak smile, trying to act like she's fine. Before you get in to the dining hall you pull her aside a bit and ask again "Baby, I can see you're not okay. Are you sure you want to get breakfast? We can go lay down again for a bit if you like." Your eyes betray how worried you are but Lucy just shakes her head and smiles softly before saying "I'm okay, we need the fuel for the game this afternoon."

You just sigh but know better than to fight with her right now. Maybe she'll feel better after breakfast. You have until lunch to rest and do some more recovery. Maybe Lucy will feel fine again in a few hours.

You can hope right? You sit with her at breakfast and your eyes are constantly on her as she slowly eats her food. You can tell it's getting harder for her to swallow with every bite. "Don't force it, Babe", you say softly as you rub her thigh but she just answers "I need the energy for later."

You just watch her worriedly and Leah and Keira, who are sitting at the table with you share a concerned look too. Lucy's free hand rests on her lap, holding her stomach as she forces herself to take another bite.

You can see Lucy starting to get really nauseous again as her chewing slows down. She's just desperately trying to swallow but you're scared she's about to blow again. Her breaths are deep but a bit to fast for your liking. However you're not saying anything as she tries her hardest to battle her stomach silently.

Before you know it she gets up and quickly makes her way to the bathroom with you right behind her. She barely makes it to the toilet before she throws up her breakfast and even a bit more. "Shh it's okay, Luce. I'm here", you say soothingly as she gathers her bearings, seeming to be done for now.

You grab some toilet paper and rub her mouth gently as she takes a few deep breaths. Getting up she walks to the sink before holding on to the the counter and grabbing her stomach slightly. You flush the toilet and walk up to her, resting a hand on her back gently before you carefully lay your hand on her belly. Stroking it gently with your thumb you feel her abs clench as her stomach cramps.

"Oh Babe, you're really not looking too hot", you say softly and press a kiss to her temple. "I'm okay", she just says and gets herself back together. "Luce, that was the second time you threw up. You're not okay", you say gently but she just looks at you seriously and says again with a bit more force "I'm okay."

You just sigh as she freshens up for a second and you both make your way back to breakfast. She sits back down and continues to eat as you just watch her concerned. "You okay, Bronzey?", Leah asks and Lucy just nods, the look in her eyes telling Leah to let it go. After breakfast you quickly talk to Leah and LJ that you'll spend time until lunch with Lucy, just to be there if something is wrong and they just nod. LJ telling you that she'll stay out of the room to give you two some privacy, eventhough that's not what you asked for.

As you knock on their door LJ opens it before grabbing her stuff and saying quietly to you "Make sure she's okay." You just nod and thank her before walking fully into the room. Lucy sitting on the bed with her iPad rewatching the last Australia game to prepare some more for the game this afternoon.

"Didn't you want to roll out your muscles?", Lucy asks confused as she sees you standing in the room. "I can do that while I keep an eye on you", you say, lifting up your blackroll. "Y/n/n, I'm fine", she tries but you immediately say "Lucy, save that for someone else. I can tell you're not. You're pale as a sheet of paper and I can tell you're in pain."

She just looks up at you as you pause the game and put her iPad aside, sitting down next to her. "Be honest with me", you say softly as you rest a hand on her back and one on her hand on her stomach, which she was still holding tightly.

She's silent for a few moments as she sorts her thoughts. She grimaces slightly as her stomach cramps and closes her eyes for a second, the fact that you saw that let's you know that's he's willing to let you in, at least a bit for now. You gently rub her hand with your thumb and ask "Why don't you lie down and rest a bit?"

She immediately shakes her head and says "I'll get sick again if I lay down." Your heart breaks at that. Its been a while since you've seen her physically so unwell. You slide a bit closer and say "Lean against me then." She does without much hesitation as you start rubbing her back. You can tell that she has been getting increasingly more nauseous since you first stepped into the room. "Shh deep breaths, you'll be okay", you say softly as you kiss her head.

She lasts about five minutes before she peels out of your arms and jogs to the bathroom once again. Finding yourself holding her hair back and rubbing her back again, you sigh softly. Why today?

"Oh love, what's wrong with your stomach? You think it's a bug?", you ask softly once she calms down a bit. She just shrugs as she rests her head on her arm, still unbelievably nauseous. Coughing a bit she gags again harshly. You get up and drench a cloth in cold water before coming back and resting it on her neck.

She slowly calms down a bit more and takes a few deep breaths. "Shh, good job, love, you're doing so good", you say softly as she leans back into you a bit. "This doesn't seem like a bug", she mumbles and you know what she means. You've seen her with a stomach bug, but she has never thrown up so much.

You grab the cloth and gently wipe her face as you say "Maybe it was something you ate?" She just shrugs as she tries to relax into you a bit. "Why today? How am I supposed to play my best like this?", she asks and you frown before you say "Babe, you're not playing like this." She turns around and looks at you as she says serious "I am playing, this is not up for debate."

You decide to not argue with her right now so you just sigh and ask "Are you done for now love?" She just nods and you help her up and to the sink where she freshens up.

She sits down on the bed and you hand her some water and electrolytes. That's one thing you never have to worry about, thankfully, she'll always drink, even if it comes right back up. She sips on the drinks as she grabs her iPad again and continues watching the game.

You can't help but sigh at that. You know how stubborn your girlfriend can be. You walk over to her and press a kiss to her head before deciding to roll out your muscles. There is no way for you to stop Lucy in watching that game. Might as well do your own recovery so you're ready for this afternoon.

"Will you please at least lean against the headboard, honey?", you ask as you move to the floor with your roll. She looks at you before complying hestiantly. "Thank you", you say and take off your hoodie, leaving you in a sports crop top because doing this in a normal shirt gave you the ick.

You focus on your own recovery and roll out your tense muscles while every once in a while looking at Lucy. And more than not you find her looking back at you. "I thought you wanted to watch the game?", you tease gently trying to not worry so much and keep the tone light. "Looking at the screen makes me dizzy", Lucy admits and you just frown.

"I really don't think you should play", you say as you keep rolling out your muscles and Lucy just warns "Y/N." "I'm just saying", you say again and focus on your recovery. Lucy turns off her iPad and keeps watching you as you do your recovery.

Every once in a while she sips on her drinks but you can tell she's feeling pretty crappy. Once you're done you, you get up and sit back down next to her. She just looks at you and you sigh softly before taking her in her your arms.

"I'm sorry you're not feeling well", you mumble and kiss her head. You can feel that she's slightly warm. She doesn't say anything but you can tell she's about to throw up again. "You want me to get you a bucket or bathroom?", you ask softly but she just gets up and runs back to the bathroom.

Sighing again you get up and follow her once more. Lucy is coughing and gagging harshly again as she throws up the water and whatever is left from her breakfast. "Oh Baby", you say softly as she rests her head on her arm and catches her breath. It's this moment where the cramps are really settling in. She grabs her stomach and retches again before spitting into the toilet once more and flushing.

You rub her back and ask softly "Done?" She just nods and you help her freshen up and back in bed. "Are you sure you don't want to try to nap, love?", you ask gently but she just shakes her head as she curls up because of the cramps. You gently pull her into your arms and rest your hand on her belly. "May I?", you question and she nods hesitantly.

You had about half an hour before lunch, so you spend the time rubbing your girlfriend's belly, trying to make her feel a bit better somehow. Eventhough she relaxes a bit Lucy's cramps don't really get any better.

As it's lunch time Lucy is adamant to join you, and you just let her even if you want nothing more than have her lay down. LJ and Leah look at Lucy worried, she looks like crap but she still sits down and eats with them.

"Lucy, you really should lay down and try to get some rest. Playing is not a good idea", Leah says and Lucy just answers "Thats not for you to decide." Leah wants to argue but you just shake her head. Lucy is not in her right mind.

You don't have much time after lunch before you're meeting at the bus to drive to the arena, so you quickly escorting Lucy back to her room, followed by LJ. She barely makes it there before she throws up her lunch again. She's shaking slightly.

"Alright that's it. You're staying here", you say but Lucy answers with her head still over the toilet "I'm not. I'll not sit this one out."

"Are you serious?! Lucy, you can't keep anything down!",

"And?",

"And?! That's fucking insane to even think about playing? You're obviously in no condition to play!",

"I'm FINE", Lucy says but only throws up again.

"You're not fine, stop lying to yourself!", you yell and she just looks at you, before saying "I will play today, deal with it."

You just stare at her. "You know what? Fine. But I'm not gonna be there to scratch you off the floor when you collapse", you say and get up before you step out of the bathroom. You walk past Lauren and out of the room before making your way to your own room.

Everyone knows that's a lie. You'll take care of her but you'll still be mad.

"Is she coming? Did she get sick again?", Leah asks as you storm into the room. "Yes she is and of course she did", you say as you throw your hoodie on the bed and angrily pack the rest of your bag. "Hey. This is not your fault. That's just how Bronzey is", she says softly as she puts a hand on your shoulder. You look up with tears in your eyes and say "But that's just reckless. She couldn't keep anything down today, Leah. Nothing. She's in no state to play. Why can't she understand that?"

Leah sighs softly and says "I don't know but I know you did everything you could. Maybe Sarina doesn't let her play." You just sigh and sit down on your bed. Tears are still running down your cheeks as you mumble "I'm just scared something will happen to her." "I know, but she'll be okay. And if we're lucky she'll learn out of it?", Leah says and you just look at her with a raised eyebrow. You both laugh softly before Leah wraps her arms around you and pulls you in a hug. "She'll be okay Y/n/n", "I hope you're right", you mumble and calm down a bit.

You get dressed and ready before you head to the bus. Asking one of the medics for some of these emisis bags you sit down next to Lucy. Eventhough you freshend up and washed your face Lucy can still tell that you've cried and eventhough she's feverish she knows that it's her fault.

Talking to you isn't an option now though because you had your headphones on. Lucy knows you needed the drive to the stadium to sort your head so she just keeps quiet and looks out the window instead. Her stomach still cramping quiet badly but she tries not to show it. However, you can tell. Turning to her slightly you open your arms and let her lean on you before rubbing her belly softly. You still won't talk to her but you don't have the heart to let your girlfriend suffer.

You're about halfway there as you can tell Lucy is about to throw up again. You hand her the bag without a word and she throws up as quietly as she can to not disturb your teammates. As you finally reach the stadium you get up and move to the locker room. You all sit together in the locker room, changed, Lucy clearly miserable but she seems to be focused as your manager and the rest of the coaching staff comes in.

After looking around Sarina asks "Are up okay to play, Lucy?" Lucy just nods and you can't help but snort at that, shaking your head that Sarina would actually let Lucy play. "Something wrong Y/N?", she asks and you just shake your head again. You're part of the starting XI as well, you don't want to risk that spot because you argue with Sarina.

You all head out for warm up before you sit down on the bench to have some water. It's about time to line up. However before you can focus on that you hear Lucy starting to throw up again two spots down. You quickly walk over and rest a hand on her back, rubbing it softly as she throws up some water, clutching her stomach.

You look at her worried but once she's done you're more pissed than worried again so you just get up and head for the tunnel. Everyone can tell your pissed but lucky for them, you're an even better player when you're pissed.

The first half moves along greatly with you scoring at 36 minutes, getting your team in the lead. You're hot and playing well.

During half time break Lucy gets violently sick again on the bench. She's starting to become really feverish and you're really starting to be worried out of your mind. You can tell how bad the cramps are and that she can barely breathe deep without another cramp rocking through the brunettes stomach. "Lucy, this is getting ridiculous! You need to rest!", you say loudly. "I'm fine", she says weakly and you just huff angrily. "Can you continue Lucy?", Sarina asks and your girlfriend just nods. "You can't be serious?!", you ask Sarina angrily.

"Y/N, when Lucy says she can play. She can play", she says and you just look at her surprised before looking at the medics who just shrug. "You're seriously gonna let her play after she once again threw up everything in her? She's shaking and feverish! Do you know how reckless that is?", you ask in disbelief before you hear Lucy from behind you "Babe, calm down." "Oh don't you dare to tell me what to do. We will talk about that later", you snarls at your girlfriend, God you were angry. "You're some reckless people and I honestly don't know how you can even think about letting such a sick player play. Risking her health for what? Since when is winning more important than your players health", you spit at Sarina and the coaching staff.

You know you crossed a line probably but right now you don't give a shit. Leah having heard snippets of it, she walks over to you and pulls you away. "Come on, let's take a breather", she says and you look at her, wanting to yell at her too but her look makes you stop. You let her pull you away and she says "I know you're angry, but yelling at Sarina will only end in her pulling you of the field." You try to calm down but you can't stop the tears in your eyes once again. "I know, but have you seen Lucy? How can they let her play like that?", you ask as you try to swallow your worry. Leah stops moving and takes you in her arms again, holding you close to let you calm down. "I don't know, she'll be okay. You can't do anything for now. Get your head back in the game okay?", Leah says softly and you nod as you take a deep breath.

You get your head back in the game and try your best to not focus on Lucy as the second half starts. In the 59th minute you play another cross which almost ends in a perfect goal from LJ. Almost.

However in the 63th minute Sam Kerr breaks through and you break out in a sprint to catch her. Which you do, however, as she fakes to the right you slip on the artificial turf and fall to the ground. You still manage to kick the ball away slightly but not hard enough. Sam saves the ball and scores, making you even. You just sit on the ground with your head in your hands as you catch your breath. A few of your teammates come over, including Lucy, and help you up, telling you it's not your fault and especially Lucy asking "Are you okay?" You just nod, it had been a bit painful but nothing you can't push through.

Not even two minutes later you get subbed off. You look confused, you've been playing really well. You look at the sideline and see Sarina shaking her head. You walk off, let Alessia come in for you, walking to the bench without looking at Sarina. Did she really pull you off because of one mistake that you couldn't even stop?

You throw yourself in the seat and sip at your water, angry tears burning in your eyes. "Hey, its not your fault", Georgia tells you but you can't really trust that right now. Sarina obviously thinks it is.

You watch the game continue, pissed off. However as Lucy goes down after a tackle you jump up, looking at her worried. She sits up again so you know she didn't pass out but the game continues, also with another goal for you. Everyone on the bench is cheering except you. As Lucy slowly slides of the pitch and the medic makes her way to her you break out in a full run and run to your girlfriend. You can hear Sarina yell your name and tell you to stay but you don't give a shit.

You're there after the medic who is already looking at her knee. "Are you okay, Luce?", you ask worried as you squat down behind her with your hands on her shoulders. She pulls her legs up slightly as another round of cramps wreck havoc in her body. She just shakes her head. "Everything hurts, I can't even breath without my whole body cramping up", she mumbles as the medic gives her some electrolytes. Once she drank something it almost comes right back up. "Yeah you're done, love", you say and the medic nods. Lucy is pissed but knows you're right. That's when the ref stops the game and walks over to the three of you.

"You can't be here", she says to you and you just look at her confused. "I'm off the pitch, what's the problem?", you ask pissed. "Players can't be next to the goal, it doesn't matter if you're playing or not", "I'm checking on my teammate!", you yell at her. She picked the wrong moment to mess with you. Lucy is just staring at the ground trying to keep ber bearings.

"Don't talk to me like that!", the ref says strictly and you just snort before saying "You make a big deal out of nothing. You stop the game with no reason. Go do your job and let me take care of my teammate!"

You crossed a line and you know that.

She blows the whistle and pulls out a yellow card, giving it to you. "Are you serious? What's your fucking problem?", you start to argue again but the ref isn't having it. Before she could do anything else Leah runs between you two and tells you "Y/N get it together! You'll get carded again and miss the final! I know you're upset but shut your mouth!" By the time she finishes talking, Lucy is on her feet again, stumbling but on her feet. You turn away from the ref and rest a hand on Lucy's back as you guide her to the bench. Lucy gets subbed and you sit down on the bench as she almost immediately starts puking again. "Shh you're okay love", you say soothingly as you rub her back. The medic hands you a cold towel and you rest it on her neck, calming her down. "Y/N what the heck was that?!", Sarina says stomping towards you. You just roll your eyes and keep your attention on Lucy. "Don't ignore me!", she yells and you just look up and say clearly, "I'm not gonna apologize."

You can tell she's about to send you in the locker room but then your teammates score another goal. Your focus still stays on Lucy, it's great your in the lead with two but right now you're worried about your girlfriend. She's trembling and tensing every few moments because of the cramps, the heat here not helping. "Shh you'll be alright, my love", you say gently and press a kiss to her warm temple. As she rests her head in her hands you squat in front of her and hold the cold towel to each side of her face, hoping to lower her fever a bit. The final whistle is blown and you press a kiss to her forehead. "We won, Luce. We're in the final", you whisper and the brunette smiles softly.

"I really don't feel good", she mumbles and your heart breaks at that. "I know, let's get you in the locker room", you say gently before looking at the medic and he just nods for you to take her.

You help her up and steady her as she sways. "We gotta get your fever down", you say and she just nods but you can tell she's pretty out of it. You help her undress and guide her in the shower, only taking off your shoes, shorts and shirt. Getting in with her to make sure she doesn't fall. You stay in for almost 20 minutes but by then her fever dropped at least a little. You are pretty cold but you can care less right now.

Your teammates are mostly in the locker room already as you guide Lucy back to her bench and help her get dressed. "Baby, you're cold", she says but you just ignore her. "She's right, we don't want you getting sick before the final", Leah says, laying your towel around your shoulders. You smile softly at her, thanking her.

Once Lucy is dressed, you quickly change yourself. You will shower at the hotel again. You just pull your shirt down as Sarina knocks at the door. Leah tells her that she can come in and by the look on her face you know she's not done with you.

"What the hell were you thinking, Y/N?!", she yells at you. Leah wants to intervene but you're too quick to answer "What was I thinking?" "You got a yellow because you couldn't keep your mouth shut eventhough you weren't even playing!", she yells at you. "Well I wouldn't have if you wouldn't have been so reckless! What on earth made you think it's okay to let Lucy play?", you ask back loudly. You'd not back down and even Leah knows that intervening now will not end well.

"Lucy said she's fine to play!", she yell and you just laugh angrily. "Everyone knows that she doesn't know when to stop. For fucks sake she couldn't keep anything down all day. Any person that can think logically knew that this was a disaster waiting to happen!", you yell and she just looks angrily at you. "Y/N", Lucy tries, not completely out if it anymore but you just turn to her and say "You better be quiet, Bronze. I'm not done with you either." The fact that you last namened her lets her know she's in trouble so she just shuts her mouth.

"I'm not letting you chew me out because I got a yellow. The ref has been waiting to do that all game and we all know that. You subbed me off because I opened my mouth at halftime. I couldn't have prevented that goal and even if I still feel guilty for it, you of all people should know that it was not my fault!", you yell angrily, you're fuming. "You got a yellow, you're lucky you're not suspended for the final!", she yells back.

"Yeah well if you would've acted with the health of your players as top priority, non of this would've happened!", you spit. "Careful or you'll find yourself on the bench for the final!", she threatens and that when Leah knows she has to step in as captain. "Okay that's enough. Let's go all back to the hotel and calm down before we make any hasty decisions", Leah tells and Sarina just glares at you once more before she leaves the locker room.

"Y/N", Lucy tries again but you just warn, "Don't." "I think it's better if you're quiet, Bronzey", Leah says quietly but you can see her trying to hide a smirk. It's rare to see Lucy Bronze not having a cheeky remark. Leaving the seriousness aside, it is kinda funny so you get Leah.

You head to the bus and sit down next to Lucy again. Now that you're calming down, you're starting to feel your knee a bit from that slip but you'll be fine. You're still pretty pissed so you grab your headphones and put them on, closing your eyes as you lean your head back. You can feel Lucy shifting next to you and not settling in the slightest, so you open your eyes and look at the brunette. You can tell she's feeling sick but the cramps seem to be worse than ever. You sigh softly and turn slightly, before you say "Come here." She looks at you unsure and you say again "I may be really mad at you but I still love you. You have 5 seconds to decide if you want my comfort or not."

It doesn't even take one for her to cuddle into you. Most people wouldn't think that but Lucy is a snuggler. Especially when she's not feeling well. You pull her close and hand her one of the bags you have left, just in case before you gently rub over her belly, trying to soothe those angry muscles.

You end up stuck in traffic and thanks to your soft touch Lucy dozes off a bit. Your eyes are closed again and the music kept the other voices from disturbing your peace. "I thought Y/N is mad at Lucy?", a fairly new teammate asks. She's not been on the team for long enough to fully get Lucy's and your relationship. "Oh she is, she's pissed out of her mind", Keira chuckles softly. "But they're cuddling?!", she asked even more confused. "You must know, Y/n/n is that kind of person where she can be unbelievably mad at you, but she'll still make sure you're okay. No matter what. Lucy can mess up badly like right now but Y/N will take care of her until she feels better because she loves her. She would never in a million years let Lucy suffer on her own or not be there for her just because she's mad. They have a special kind of love", Leah explained as a few of your teammates smile at you guys softly.

You feel that you're being stared at, so you open your eyes to find several teammates quickly look away, but not Leah, Keira and LJ. You see their smile and look down to see Lucy asleep on you. You can't help the smile you crack. Your girlfriend is pretty adorable but you'd never let her see that smile right now. You press a soft kiss to her head and lean back again. Eventually, you make it to the hotel and make your way inside. LJ and you switching rooms for the night, so you can make sure Lucy is okay.

You let Leah know that neither of you will attend dinner tonight before you bring Lucy in the room. "Come on, change and then bed", you say and Lucy wants to argue but your look makes her close her mouth again before following your orders. Lucy is about to lie down as Lauren bring you your bag, before grabbing hers and making her way back to Leah. You start boiling some water in the kettle in the room before fishing the hot water bottle out of your bag. Heat often helps your muscles and Lucy too even if she doesn't want to admit it, so you usually bring it. Once you are done prepping it, you sit down at the edge of the bed, lift the blanket and place it on Lucy's stomach. She sighs softly in relief before she looks up at you with teary eyes.

You know that she hates it when you're mad at her. You sigh softly and caress her cheek, before you say "Don't cry, Luce. Everything will be okay." "Do you still love me? I'm sorry", she asks insecure and it breaks your heart. That's definitely mostly the exhaustion talking. "I will always love you. Even when I'm mad, love. Now do me a favor and get some sleep okay? I'll join you after a quick shower", you say as you kiss her forehead lovingly. She doesn't have to be told twice. Not even a minute later she's already dozing off.

You smile and shower quickly, before joining her in bed. You cuddle your sleeping girlfriend for about an hour until there is a soft knock at the door. It opens a second later and you see Leah waking in with a tray. There is some dinner on it for you and some crackers and fresh ginger for tea for Lucy. "I figured you'd be hungry. How's our Bronzey?", she asks softly to not wake Lucy.

"Thank you. She's okay, I think. I'm glad she's sleeping. She's exhausted", you say as you look concerned at your girlfriend. Leah walks up to you and squeezes your shoulder before she says "She looks a bit better already. She'll be okay. Now eat something yourself please okay?" You sigh and nod before you thank her. Leah leaves again and you eat your dinner. You're just done eating as Lucy stirs. You gently push a piece of hair out of her face and ask "How are you feeling, love?" "A bit better", she mumbles and leans into your touch.

You press a kiss to her forehead and ask "Do you think you could keep down some tea?" "I can try", she says with a small smile, so you get up and finish some tea with the fresh ginger.

Once it's done, she sits up and you hand her the mug before sitting down across from her. You can tell the fever is gone and she seems a lot clearer than earlier.

"How mad at me are you?", she asks softly as she looks up at you. "Pretty mad", you say before you sigh. "Lucy, you cannot be so irresponsible. This could've ended badly and you know that", "I know, I'm sorry", she says quietly. You know own she means it but that just isn't enough. "I know you are but you're sorry because I'm mad now. Lucy I need you to understand that I'm not mad because you acted against my wish. I was fucking worried about you. You could've gotten seriously hurt. I need you to be okay and I don't know how often I can go through such a day like today", you say seriously, close to tears. She knows your biggest fear is losing her.

She quickly puts aside the mug and opens takes your hands in hers. "Hey y/n/n, look at me and listen please. I know I messed up. I know I worried you and scared you. And I'm sorry for that. I can only imagine how anxious you must've been all day and I never wanted to be the reason you're feeling like that. We both know I have a problem to know my limits and I know I should've listened to you. I'm truly sorry and I need you to believe me. I try to listen to you next time", she says as she looks into your eyes and you just nod before she takes you in her arms, letting you calm down and let those tears and anxiety out.

"I'm still mad at you", you mumble in her shoulder. "I know, I deserve that", she chuckles softly and kisses your forehead. After a few minutes in her arms, you sut up and say "Now drink that tea." "Yes ma'am", Lucy just say causing you to roll your eyes smiling.

Grabbing the hot water bottle from her stomach she pouts dramatically and you just laugh before you tell her "Relax, I'm gonna make a fresh one for you."

Getting up you limp a step before putting the water back in the kettle and turn it on, shaking your leg out slightly. You're definitely feeling your knee and Lucy can tell immediately. "Let me look at your knee", she says but you answer "Lucy I want you to rest and drink your tea." "Yeah, well I don't want my girlfriend to be in pain either when she takes care of me", Lucy tells you seriously. She'll not back down, you know that.

You sigh, finish up the hot water bottle and make your way back to bed. Laying the hot water bottle next to her she gets up and tell you to sit down so she can check on your knee. If there is one person to know everything about knees it's Lucy. She can tell how tense the muscles are, probably overstretched a bit. She massages them a bit, which is pretty uncomfortable but ultimately helps.

"Make sure one of the physios takes a look at that tomorrow and gets you taped up", she says softly and you nod, before you thank her. "Not for that", she says and presses a kiss to your knee before getting back in bed. You cuddle up next to her and place the hot water bottle back on her stomach.

Both of you head to sleep pretty early but she does finish her tea and even eats a few crackers without throwing up again. The next morning, you wake up in her arms. You turn off the alarm and she opens her eyes to look sleepily at you. "Morning, I missed this", she mumbles before kissing your head. "Me too", you say smiling before gently rubbing over her stomach. "How's your tummy?", you ask and she answers "Sore but definitely not as queasy anymore."

You just smile satisfied and cuddle for a few more minutes before you get ready for breakfast.

Once down in the dining area you kiss her cheek and say "Sit down already, I'm gonna get us something to eat." She nods and sits down next to Leah. You come back a few minutes later with two plates only to find Lucy and Leah looking at Leah's phone watching the game from yesterday. More precisely the scene where you got a yellow.

"Why are you watching that?", you whine slightly as you place a plate of toast, some cucumber and some watermelon. "I don't remember much of the game yesterday, I wanna know why you got carded", Lucy says grinning and you just roll your eyes. "The ref has been waiting all game for that", you grumble and Leah just chuckles before she says "And thanks to her you're also on bad terms with Sarina." You just sigh and rub over your face, all of that making your head hurt slightly.

Lucy rests a hand on your thigh and makes you look at her. "Thank you for standing up for me", she says softly. "You're welcome, but you better don't do it again, Bronze", you say with a raised eyebrow. She winced slightly at being last named again. "Understood", she says before pressing a kiss to your temple

#lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #woso fic #woso x reader #woso community #lionesses #lionesses x reader #wwc 2023

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krystalcat · 3 months

Text

Keep It To Myself

ღ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x fem!Reader

ღ Genre: Smut, angst

ღ Word count: 5,4k

ღ Warnings: cheating, toxic relantionship, voyeurism, reader is Yunho's lover,fwb with Mingi, unprotected sex (big no), creampie, fingering, oral (giving and receiving), dom!Yunho, sub!reader, yunho is massive, pet names(bunny), repressed feelings, praise kink, dacryphilia, rough sex?, lots of teasing, a sprinkle of degradation?, lmk if I forgot anything

ღ Summary: It's hard to keep your hands to yourself when someone like him crossed paths with you. Too bad he wasn't yours to begin with, but it's not like he cared anyways.

ღ Notes: This is the first time I'm writing smut fanfics. It's also been a long time since I've written anything. I hope you like it and I'm very open to (constructive) criticism! Also, English is not my first language and I haven't proofread this, so it's very possible to have grammatical mistakes or sentences that don't make much sense in English. I also got inspired by Elise's Keep It To Myself, so check that out! I'm also not entirely happy with how this turned out, but I figured it was best to post it before rewriting the plot for the 3rd or 4th time lol

ღ Disclaimer: This is only fiction, by writing this I am not trying to represent the member(s) in any way.

You tried studying in peace, but it was difficult when your roommate and his girlfriend were arguing for what it felt like the fiftieth time that week. After months, you still didn’t get used to it.

Despite not being close friends, you didn't think Yunho was the problem, since there was never gossip in your group of him being a toxic person, and the more passionate fights you heard, it was confirmed.

You saw his girlfriend’s behaviour regarding their relationship and Yunho: restricting who he spoke to, deleting his girl friends’ contacts on his phone, getting angry if he doesn’t answer quickly. You’d sometimes even laugh to yourself, saying she was another roommate - the only difference between her and you being the unpaid rent - so those atitudes weren’t hard to miss.

Hell, sometimes you even wondered how she never made a fuss of him having another woman as his roommate, at least you never heard an argument about that.

What bugged you the most was why the hell he wouldn’t break up with her, because he does recognize she’s not a good girlfriend, his screams coming from the kitchen confirm that. Their arguments have just gotten more frequent and boorish over time.

But now it wasn't only their fights that made you distracted. You would be lying if you said you didn't have a slight crush on Yunho when you first became roommates, always so polite and gentle whenever you both were in your home. But that's just him being nice and a good person, and after he had gotten a girlfriend you knew your feelings had to go away, which wasn't particularly easy since you both shared a house, but you still managed to do it.

The problem now? They came back stronger than ever. You knew that if you spent more than five minutes in the same room as him, you’d leap onto his arms and his girlfriend would literally kill you. Why? For the past two weeks or so right after they fight, they have some sort of angry-make-up sex, making you unable to control your fantasies.

Hearing Yunho’s groans and moans for the past days made you start having a sexual attraction towards him, and pleasuring yourself to them has been your guilty pleasure. You knew it was wrong, no amount of problems with her would make it okay for him to cheat, but God, the things you would do to switch places with her on that bed.

In the middle of the day, you would suddenly imagine the most filthy and nasty scenarios that made you crave those hands on your cunt, those lips on your breasts and his cock pounding deep inside you. You were addicted to something you hadn’t even try before.

You put down the pencil you were holding when you heard moans coming from Yunho’s room - his moans. Quietly making your way to your bed, you took your shorts and panties off, then laying on your bed.

“F-Fuck, Jiyeon” His faint deep groans sent a shiver down your spine. You suppressed your moans as you rubbed circles on your clit, adjusting your pace to the volume of Yunho’s moans, imagining it was you who made him feel that good and all the indecent things you would let him do to you.

Despite everything, you swore to yourself you’d keep this desire to yourself, that you would never flirt or makes moves on Yunho while was on a relationship.

But that is so fucking hard when he didn’t help you to repress your yearnings at all.

«---- ღ ----»

While binge watching your favorite show, you see Yunho walking out from his room, completely dressed up: white buttoned-up shirt adorned with a black tie, black oxfords and pants that matched his dark blue suit. He checked himself out on the mirror in the living room, “I’m going out and probably won’t come back until tomorrow noon”.

“Got it” Your attention returned to the screen in front of you, hearing his shoes clicking on the floor and the front door shutting.

After maybe a episode or two, you heard the front door opening, hearing Yunho knocking his shoes on the entrance. You turned your head around to be met with a pissed Yunho.

“Didn’t realize it was tomorrow already” You snorted as he entered his room, gaining a grunt from him.

He went back to the living room, standing in front of the tv. You’d probably roll your eyes, if he wasn’t with the first four buttons unbuttoned. My God were you really malfunctioning just because of a little cleavage? You had no shame at all, “Yn I’m not in the mood for jokes right now”.

Quickly admiring his figure, you tried your best to not look affected by his looks, “Do you want to vent or need advice? If not, let me watch my show” His fingers massaged his temples, making him sigh.

“It’s nothing much, but would you really listen to me?” He sat next to you, positioning his elbows on his knees and turning his head to you, you paused you show and sat in a more comfortable position, your body facing his. Now this was unexpected, Yunho was always a reserved person who didn’t want to bother other people with his problems.

“She was supposed to meet me almost two hours ago for dinner and she’s not answering my texts or calls. We aren’t in the best terms lately and I’m scared, for us and her as well”

“Do you know were she might have gone?” He shook his head lightly, “Look, I don’t want to be rude, you don’t have to answer me, but why are you even with her?” He gazed into your eyes, opening his mouth to speak, only to close it again and divert his gaze from yours.

“I’ll have some drinks” He got up, “I’m not mad at you for asking that, I just need to clear my thoughts” He grabbed the keys he had previously left on the kitchen table, heading to his way out.

The butterflies in your stomach meant you should leave him alone, that you shouldn’t spend any sort of quality time together with him, it would melt your mind, making you bound to do something stupid. At the same time, you were worried Yunho would get himself in trouble, that he would let’s his emotions get the best of him, and you couldn’t bear something happening to him.

“Absolutely not” You got up from the couch heading towards his direction.

“I just want to be alone”

“Yeah but I’m not letting you go through that door”You crossed your arms as he stared back at you, “We don’t need to talk further, but stay here for a moment to collect your thoughts, I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret tomorrow, ok?”

He looked at you, to his feet, then getting up and going to his room. You sat back down, diverted your gaze and resumed the show, thinking he would disregard your words and go on with his life.

“What are you watching?” You jolted a little when he sat next to you - maybe a little too close for your liking, stomach doing flips and cheeks heating up - now dressed in black sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

And that’s how you two got closer, dangerously too close, because if being in the same room with him before was hard, now it was arduous. You both would now steal little glances at each other, he would flash you little smiles. When Jiyeon wasn’t there, you’d both tease each other while doing mundane tasks, which was mostly borderline flirting.

Also by some miracle the huge fights stopped, only small arguments here and there. Maybe Yunho did it out of respect for you and the conversation you both had that day, maybe Jiyeon just happened to be in a good temper, who knows. Everything seemed perfect: their relationship was great, no more angry sex, so that attraction towards Yunho disappeared and you had no more guilt looming over your head.

However, after that step forward, you took 100 steps back, because you were now having actual feelings towards Yunho. His smile brightens the room, his touch sends waves down your spine, his presence makes you feel giddy, his teases and flirts make your heart flutter. You had no idea how you got yourself in this situation, perhaps getting closer to him was the last thing you should’ve done to the greater of your sanity.

Your heart spoke louder than your mind, since you couldn’t distance from him once again, not now when you both are friends, and you know what a gentleman and nice person he is, you loved having him around.

What was your next move then? Getting someone else to replace your attraction towards Yunho, which you found quite hard, since you didn’t know many guys, let alone the ones that are both single and decent. Maybe that was a shitty move from you, but it’s still way better than playing around with someone who’s committed.

Lucky you, a few days later Yunho’s friends - who you already knew - came over to play some video games with him, and one of them ditched the hangout to make some moves on you.

“Sooo, are you single?” He asked, leaning on the wall as you made some noodles for dinner.

You laughed at his question, “You know I am Mingi” The tall guy approached you, “Just making sure, I find it hard that a beautiful woman like you is all alone”

“You sure know how to flatter someone” You giggled, turning your head to him with a smirk on your face “What do you want Mingi?” His confident attitude dropped as he widened his eyes, making you laugh lightly “Cat got your tongue? I know you want something, I just want to know what it is”

He cleared his throat, then asking “I-If I asked you if you want to go out with me, would you say yes?” without looking at you. You did not expect him to say something like that, and thought about it for a little: while you wanted to forget Yunho, you couldn’t use one of his friends as a toy, even you had limits.

“L-Look Mingi I think you’re cute, but I’m not ready for something serious and-” He interrupted you, “I thought about something more casual, if you know what I mean.” You let out a ‘oh’ “I-It’s totally okay if you don’t want, but since we’re both single and as I imagine frustrated, I thought why not...?” He clarified, still not making eye contact with you.

“Why not try?” He shot his head up at you, eyes wide and a slight smile on his face, “Really?” You nodded, “Do you want to go out tomorrow or do you think it’s too quick?” He asked. You approached him, gluing your body on his and wrapping your arms around his neck, “Tomorrow seems good”

He snaked his arms around your waist, kissing you slowly as his hands roamed your ass, sometimes tugging at it. Opening your mouth to deepen the kiss, you hands also made their way to his clothed crotch, making him separate the kiss and grunt silently. “Go back to your friends, I’ll make up for you tomorrow” You whispered, making him roll his eyes as he let go of you to go back to Yunho’s room.

Your little relationship with Mingi - if you could it even call it that - was doing you wonders, for some time your feelings for Yunho faded, specially when Mingi was balls deep into your cunt, all you could do was scream and whimper his name, brain turned into mush. Still, from time to time you would think it was Yunho instead of Mingi fucking you dumb, but you tried your best to repress those desires.

But one day you slip up, you moaned Yunho’s name out loud, and to say you were embarrassed was an understatement.

Mingi halted all movements. “I-I’m so sorry” You muttered under your breath, only loud enough for him to hear, voice cracking as tears filled your eyes. Mingi removed himself from you, “Yn look at me”

You refused to, continuing to stare at the pillow as Mingi caressed your hips, waiting for your response, “Yn I’m not mad, we’re not together, I’m just confused,” He heard your sniffs, making him turn you around and hug you.

“Do you want to stop?” You nodded, making him hold you tighter until he calmed you down enough so that he could bring your and his clothes.

After explaining the whole situation to him, he said he wouldn’t mind to keep your little ‘friends-with-benefits’ thing going on if you still wanted it and assured you he didn’t care about the slip-up. At the end, you knew he understood the mess you were in and took pity in your situation.

«---- ღ ----»

You were awaken from a loud thud coming from the living room, heart racing as your mind thought about the most far-fetched and terrifying scenarios that it could. Slowly getting out of the bed and tiptoeing towards the bedroom door, you heard some mumbles coming from the other room.

You put your ear on the door to hear better. Knock knock knock. You jolted and gasped silently, backing away from the door, “Yn?” A female voice called from the other side, making you realize who it was. Opening the door you saw Jiyeon, smeared lipstick and smokey eyes adorning her delicate face as she reeked from alcohol.

“You scared the living shit out of me!” You whisper-yelled.

“Sorry, um... Yunho and I were at the club with some friends and he is pretty wasted, can I ask a favor?”

“Go on”

“So tomorrow I will be leaving town to meet my family, and I can’t be here looking after Yunho until he falls asleep, could you do that?”

“Jiyeon, I’m sorry but-”

“Please! I know it’s late and that I should have managed my time better, but it’s just this time and I trust you more than his friends to take good care of him”

Now, that was odd. Out of all the people in his life, you were the one she trusted the most? When you literally have feelings for him, have touched yourself while thinking of him and while she was the one on his bed. But Yunho is still your friend after all, surely nothing will go wrong while you care after him and tidy him, right?

“Okay, I'll try and do my best”

“Thank you so much, he's in the couch, probably half-awake” You both went to see him, he was laying on his back, hooded eyes staring through the ceiling, “I'll go now, thank you once again”.

With the door closing, it was just you and a drunk Yunho, who seemed to have a staring contest with the white ceiling.

“Yunho, are you feeling nauseous?” He kept facing the ceiling as you called his name from afar, “Yunho?" You spoke louder this time, getting closer, the smell of cheap liquor invading your nostrils.

“Uh... Whaaat?” His slurred speech would have almost made you laugh if you weren't worried sick for him.

“Do you wanna puke?” He shook his head. “Okay, let's go to your room, can you get up?” He slowly shifted in his seat and stood up, losing his balance immediately, falling on the couch.

“Great” You massaged your temples, “How am I supposed to carry you to your room?” You sat on his side, putting one of his arms around your neck and holding it as your left arm wrapped around his torso.

With a little difficulty, you stood up. Despite managing to support him, his weight still made you bump on the hallway. Reaching his room felt like minutes.

You sat him on the bed, then unlacing and taking off his shoes as he watched you silently. Then helping him getting rid of the black leather jacket, leaving him in a white tee and black jeans.

“Look, you stink, I need to run you a shower” You explained, “This will be weird, because I need you to take off your pants”

He nodded, complying to your task slowly as you looked away to not make this any more embarrassing.

“You can turn” He said, making you turn around and trying to help him get up from the bed, avoiding looking down at his bare thighs and crotch area, cheeks burning up at the thought of it.

With a blink of an eye, Yunho's left hand was behind your head as his right propped him up, making you freeze on his hold. “Can I kiss you?” After what felt like an eternity, he asked, making you widen your eyes, no answer leaving your mouth.

You wondered if it was the booze or him talking, but his red cheeks, messy hair, somewhat slurred speech and daze gave you the answer.

“You're drunk Yunho, you don't know what you're talking about” You explained after a long staring contest, failing to cover the disappointment in your voice.

“I really want to kiss you” His grip on your neck softened a little, starting to caress it, “You look better with me, not with Mingi” Silence fell in the room, you looked away from him and bit your lip, sighing. Sure it wasn’t a secret you two were together, although it was just fun and games between you two, but it shouldn’t bother him that you’re with someone else.

“Yunho” You started with an hoarse voice, holding the tears threatening to leave your eyes, “You're speaking nonsense, let's go, I'll turn the water on for you”

The grip on your neck strengthened once again and before you knew it your lips crashed.

Different from Yunho, you kept your eyes open and wide, a million thoughts raced through your head, before finally giving into the kiss as Yunho urged you to become closer.

He bit your lower lip, taking the opportunity to insert his tongue in your mouth as you let out a silent whimper, deepening the kiss.

Getting drunk on his tongue, you threw yourself onto Yunho, both falling onto the bed without letting go of each other. Rolling on top of you, he started caressing your cheek with his thumb.

After the probably best moment of your life, you let go of him, finally allowing you both to breathe. As you stared into each other's eyes, Yunho's thumb and index fingers (hooked) into your chin, closing the small distance between you.

You don't know what it was, maybe it was the drunken state leaving your body, the guilt of taking advantage of Yunho or Jiyeon's words resurfacing your mind. But it probably was a mix of the three. You stopped Yunho, taking his hands off of you, making him frown.

“This is a mistake, you’ll regret it tomorrow, probably you won’t even remember this once you’re sober” You stood up “I’m turning on the water” You said as you walked towards the bathroom to do it, hiding the tears that threatened to leave your eyes, but for the sake of appearances and the possibility of him remembering these events tomorrow, you hid it.

You didn’t speak to each other as you gave him a bath, he sat on the shower as you shampooed his hair and rinsed it. You gave up on scrubbing his body in the middle of it due to your heartbroken state. After drying him quickly, you gave his some boxers and pajamas, waiting for him to go to bed to make sure he wouldn’t hit is head or fall down.

After putting him to bed, you crawled back to yours, crying yourself to sleep while thinking about what happened and how you fucked your friendship up, wishing all of this was just a dream.

The next few days were awkward, Yunho kept talking with you as if nothing had happened, probably because he didn’t remember, but you still couldn’t forget his kiss and his (slurred) words that night. He sometimes would ask if everything was alright, but you lied saying the last days have been tiring and you just needed to rest well.

«---- ღ ----»

You grabbed your keys, trying your best to make the least amount of silence possible since it was almost 1am. You had gone out with Mingi to a club, but before that, stopping at his house for some action.

The door opened, revealing your pitch dark apartment, just like you thought, Yunho was already asleep. You then shut it behind you and took off your heels to tiptoe towards your room. As you walked towards it, you saw the door from Yunho’s room wasn’t completely closed, a dim yellow light illuminating the hallway.

Since you didn’t hear a sound, you thought he had forgotten to turn off the light on his bedside, still trying to silently get into your room, slowly turning the door knob to open it.

“Yn...” Hearing your name coming in a low grunt from the other room made you shot your head up. You were pretty sure it was a moan coming from Yunho’s room, your cheeks flustered at the thought of him jerking off thinking of you.

Interest and curiosity took the best of you, making you silently spy Yunho through the door crack. He sat on the bed, no pants on, boxers still hanging on his feet as he slowly jerked himself off. Your mouth opened wide at the sight of his cock’s size. It was probably the biggest you have ever seen in real life.

After admiring his show for a few more moments, you realized you should leave before he catches you looking and make everything between you two even more awkward. As you made the way to your room, the wooden floor creaked, making you internally cursing yourself, hoping he didn’t notice it.

“Yn?” Yunho asked, opening his room’s door wide. Lucky for you, you were already at the front of your bedroom door.

“S-Sorry did I wake you up?” You gave him a slight smile, trying to be as convincing as possible.

“For someone who insists that kissing me was a mistake you sure were enjoying the view” Your face dropped, making you look like a deer in the headlights. Silence filled the whole apartment as Yunho waited for an answer.

“I-I’m sorry” Was all you said before looking away from him and heading to your room, but Yunho’s wasn’t accepting that so easily. He grabbed your arm and trapped you between the wall and himself.

“I can see it in your eyes, why are you lying to yourself?”

“Because you’re with someone else, that’s why. Just because she’s a poor excuse of a girlfriend that doesn’t make it right for you to cheat on her ”

“I don’t care about her”

“Liar!” Tears slowly streamed down your face “If you didn’t care you would’ve ended things a long time ago!”

“It’s complicated, and you know that! If you liked me so much you wouldn’t have started a relationship with Mingi either!” You took his hands off of you.

“We’re not together!” You tried to get away from him, only for Yunho to grab you once again and planting a kiss on your lips, making you relax on him.

He deepened the kiss, making you snake your arms behind his neck, tongue and teeth crashing together as lust and passion dominated you both. Still not letting go of each other, Yunho guided you to your room, closing the door behind him.

He let go of you, leaning a bit back to check you out “Fuck I can’t believe Mingi had all this to himself, you’re so fucking pretty” He attacked your neck with light kisses and bites, making you a whimpering mess as you got wetter.

“I love hearing your little whimpers, you’re so cute, Bunny” A shiver went down you spine “Do you like the nickname, Bunny?” He whispered in your ear, taunting you “These clothes look good on you, but I bet you look better without them” He sat in your bed as you stood in front of him.

You slowly took your clothes, Yunho’s eyes not leaving your body as he licked his lips. Only in your undergarments, you straddled his lap, his hands touching and grabbing every inch of your body. With a loud huff, he took off his t-shirt to reveal his chest and abs.

He pulled you to another kiss, this time a more passionate one, caressing your face as he unclasped your bra in one go, letting the straps fall on your arms. You pulled away from him to take it off, him grabbing and kissing them as light whimpers left your mouth.

He grabbed your hand, positioning it on his tent, “Fuck baby, I need to feel you right now”, you got on your knees, pulling his pants down to his feet, revealing his boxers already with a wet spot on his clothed tip. Touching him through his boxers made him throw his head back with a loud whimper, “Please for the love of God don’t tease me y/n”

You smirked, pulling his boxers down, revealing a leaking and angry tip. As you had already suspected, Yunho was big, you had no idea how it would fit you, but that was something to worry about later.

You started by stroking him and giving him kitty licks, his noises soon encouraged you to try and take him. “Oh fuck...” Yunho moaned and dropped himself on the bed as you sucked his tip, trying to suck more every time your head bobbed up and down.

Tears filled the corners of your eyes as his length hit the back of your throat, loving the stinging sensation it left behind. You felt a hand grabbing your hair lightly, making you look up, locking eyes with Yunho, his filled with lust, “You’re taking me so well bunny” his compliments only made you wetter and more eager to swallow more of his cock.

“Let me help you out b-bunny” He grabbed your hair in a ponytail to then force your throat down his shaft, tears streaming down your face as he wrecked your mouth. You moved your panties aside, making circles around your clit as he kept controlling your head movements.

He let out a deep chuckle, “Is my bunny horny just by sucking me off?” You let out a moan at his words, throat vibrating around his cock, making him moan as well. His movements faltered as his groans got louder and louder, soon him releasing in your mouth and his grip on your head.

You quickly moved back, coughing from the lack of air in your lungs, your throat stinging a but from the workout. Yunho grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. He kissed your tears away, loving how wrecked you looked when he had done barely anything to you.

“Are you okay?” You nodded at his answer “I’m sorry for being so harsh, if I ever do anything you don’t like please warn me” You laughed slightly at his concerns, “Use me however you want” You whispered to his ear, noticing how his lips curved in a menacing grin.

“Is that so? Lay on the bed for me then, love” Hearing Yunho calling you love made you dizzy, by this time you had forgotten he had another woman he could call ‘love’, not a single once of guilt tainting your heart and making you doubt this moment.

You laid on the bed, it was Yunho’s turn to get on his knees. He pulled you closer towards him, giving you kisses along your thighs as you begged him to stop teasing you. He dragged your panties along your legs, throwing it somewhere on the room.

“Holy fuck...” You moaned out loud when he licked your folds, burying his head on your cunt, eating you out like there’s no tomorrow. You tried your best to contain your moans, which only riled Yunho up even more.

“Y-Yunho- Fuck, calm down” You whined, feeling overstimulated from his mouth alone, without even coming once, feeling him smirk as the kept tongue-fucking you. He backed away from your dripping cunt, arousal dripping down his chin.

“I thought you said you didn’t want me to tease you”

“Fuck yes I did, but if you keep going on I’m not lasting long”

“Great that’s my intention” He pushed one finger with ease inside you, making you whimper slightly “More” He chuckled at your reaction, complying to your wishes and adding another one. He thrust his fingers in and out of you, eliciting moans from you. You loved how deep his fingers went inside your cunt, still, it wasn’t enough for you.

“Y-Yunho” You moaned out loud, incapable of forming a full sentence.

“Hmm?” He looked up to you, watching your fucked out face contort with please, “Does my bunny want more?” You nodded your head quickly, making him chuckle, “You’re such a whore for me” and how right he was, you would let him do anything to you in this moment,

He added one more, stretching your cunt out as he lowered his head to your cunt. You combination of his fingers inside you and his tongue flickering your bud turned you into a moaning mess. You quickly felt your high approaching, and Yunho knew that by the way your pussy tightened around his fingers.

“Cum for me bunny, I know you want to” His words were enough to drive you to your edge, making you cream around his fingers as he kept lapping your clit, riding out your orgasm.

He took of his fingers and put them in front of you, making you clean them up and taste yourself.

“Do you want me to grab a condom?”

“Forget that, just go raw” He widened his eyes, “A-Are you sure?” you nodded your head. He got up on the bed, positioning himself between your thighs and his length in your entrance.

“I’m going slow, tell me when it’s okay to move” He slowly inserted his head in you, making moan and wrap your legs around his waist. As he kept pushing himself inside you, your moans grew louder until he bottomed out.

“F-Fuck, you’re huge” You groaned, he stilled inside you as he caressed your face and thighs to relax you. “You can move” He started slowly, you bit your lips to suppress the moans from leaving your mouth, clawing at the sheets.

Yunho tested the waters by speeding up the pace, drawing more moans from you, which gave him the green light to fuck you dumb. He placed your legs on his shoulders and lowered down to meet your lips, giving a short peck.

“Fuck Yn, you’re driving me crazy” He moaned out loud, making you smile, to which he asked “Why are you smiling?” His pace never faltering, his tip brushing your g-spot every time.

“T-The name you’re moaning is mine” You managed to speak between moans, “My bunny is so dirty” He laughed, his thrusts getting sloppier and his moans getting louder.

“Come inside me, please” You locked gazes, he gave you a taunting smirk as he used one of his hands to draw circles around your clit. You felt like your mind was breaking apart from the amount of pleasure, soon feeling a knot on your stomach.

“Do you like being full of me? Fuck, baby I’m so close” He announced, before bursting inside you, your walls sucking him dry. You loved the feeling of being full to the brim by him. Still inside you, he kept drawing circles on your bud and sucking on your breasts. Soon, you came as well, moaning his name out loud.

He removed himself from you, feeling his cum drip down onto the sheets, making a mess, “I’m grabbing a towel, don’t move” He grabbed it quickly, you barely noticing his absence.

He cleaned you up, giving you kisses. Still, a question lingered on your mind.

“What about us Yunho?”

“I’m ending things with Jiyeon, I love you yn”

#ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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tastesousweet · 1 month

Text

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (viii) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : the triplets' birthday party is a perfect place for flirting, tension, and... well, matt and y/n's forte.

warnings : use of alcohol, weed and smut ( just a lil flithy icl ), beware that the word count on this ho is crazy - meaning i did not proofread!

mickey speaks : this took a MINUTE to get out im sawrryyyy. i tried to fit everything into one part and ended up rewriting almost the entire part last minute (which is most of the reason why this is very delayed), sooo hope you love??? bc i dont lmfao also the triplets r a couple yrs older in this (turning 23)

THIS IS PART EIGHT GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST!!!

"JESUS, matt. can you take this seriously, please?" chris scoffs, taking the dry-erase marker cap from its awkward spot between his teeth.

matt's not one to continue adding his opinion knowing it won't be listened to. he prefers to leave the impossible-to-get-a-word-in debating to nick and chris who have no problem yelling over each other to the point that they don't even know what the issue ever was.

so he's found comfort in sitting at the dining room table with his eyes firmly closed and arms used as a pillow for his head, leaving nothing but a dollop of his hair to be shown, or as he told chris "attempting to find peace for myself while living with you chaotic fucks."

"what could you possibly want from me?" matt asks without moving from his face down position, voice muffled and strained.

"i want you to fight for your opinion! don't you care about what we do for our birthday?!" chris stresses while nick rolls his eyes and falls into a bored stance, leaning against the dark marble counter.

matt finally raises his head causing his face to scrunch up and eyes to squint due to the sudden and bright change in lighting, "no? i actually don't give a shit, chris."

chris first feels the instigator within him sighing in defeat only for his pride to take center. he figures if nick has practically given up and matt cares so little, that gives him all of the creative action for birthday plans. exactly what he wanted.

his lips form a tight line to hide his satisfaction as he shakes his head slowly, unevenly wiping his hand across the magnetic white board (that he used to write the many ideas thrown around in his head, mistakenly thinking a visual would narrow things down for him and nick). “‘kay. then i’m getting nate to help plan us a house party and it'll be fucking perfect. because i care.”

౨ৎ

you've never been so grateful of your front door's placement this close to the kitchen. but carrying three cake boxes and a tote bag the size of your torso, desperately needing to put them down after traveling up three flights of stairs, will surely be the task that brings that gratitude out of you.

though when you arrive, your scrunched eyebrows and pouted lips are an apparent contrast to the enthusiastic vibe of your kitchen- with andrea moving her hips to the lines of spanish dancing in the air, waiting patiently for the sizzling indication of her fried egg's tenderness, and the use of pink lemonade-colored towels or handles on utensils (that made you and andrea way too happy during one of your first target runs as roommates) scattered around.

drea finally notices you when your metal keychain clanks against the countertop, "y/n!" her excitement slightly dulls with her widened eyes when she gets a better view of your face, turning the stove off and coming closer to hug you. "hi, good morning-ish. are you feeling okay? ...or, like, sad?" you silently accept her gesture and tuck your head in her neck while she caresses your hair with a sigh, "or both at the same time...?"

your response is a breathy sigh and pause before the words tumble out, "m'fine, i think. just overestimated myself a little with staying up so late." you remove your head from her neck and move backwards to lean against the countertop, fanning your hands to create a much needed breeze, "and i'm so hot, it's making me feel gross."

andrea peers into the clear plastic cutout on top of one of the boxes, "at least the cakes look nice."

a week ago you set your mind on gifting the triplets their own cakes for their birthday (thinking that sharing a day was already enough, no way would you want them to have to share and agree on only one cake). you easily gathered their cake preferences by sneaking it into any random conversations you'd have with each of them.

and after a week of planning and preparing, was it so bad if you wanted a fun night in with your roomie? andrea warned you several times to go to bed considering you'd be up at 5:30 the next morning, but you insisted that you'd be fine and asked her to help you clear the rest of the box-wine in the fridge.

you could tell matt was a little irritated that you chose rewatching episodes of a sitcom and "cheap ass box-wine" over sex with him (of course throwing the fact that his birthday would be arriving in only a few hours right in your face) but you pioneered and assured him that you'll make time for him the next day, while also sweetly reminding him that you too have a life outside of this exchange.

at midnight you sent the triplets a group message to congratulate. and a few minutes later you left andrea on the couch for your room, sending matt a birthday text of his own (because you did feel the tiniest bit guilty for rejecting him earlier) paired with a picture with your shirt lifted, hem tucked behind your teeth, and your boobs sat in a sheer bra with decorative white trimming and a bow in the center.

he didn't respond for almost an hour and you tried to not feel embarrassed or overthink his reaction at all.

you couldn't stand the giddiness that came over you (you'd blame it on being the slightest bit tipsy) when you finally got into bed to find his response gentle, in his own matt-kind-of-way, with your image loved and a grayed bubble text reading: "Very pretty, thank you"

"thanks, drea. they were a bitch to make." water drowns out your voice as you start to wash your hands in the deep sink. you run your soapy fingers over a small cut you got when dealing with an irritating cardboard box earlier, finding the stinging of the hot water a wonderful kind of bitter that further plays into your foul mood.

"mmm... i'm sure. but it's not like you can even tell. they almost look store-bought," she attempts to flatter you, turning her head from the packaged desserts to offer a smile.

when you're sweet you're the most ripe, juicy peach, eveyone knows this. but god, when you're feeling down you really are the most cranky, green apple that could force a pucker onto even the most undaunted. your face is dragged of any aloofness or sunshine with your dry response as she turns to resume her breakfast, "uh huh. you don't have to coddle me. i'll get over myself soon, i promise." you dry your hands.

andrea would argue she's not coddling only looking out for your well being- because she wants to and knows if she were neglecting her needs you'd be right on her ass as well, "okay...and did you eat?"

"just like, a bagel before i left," you open the fridge and let the door hang open as you walk across the kitchen to grab the cake boxes and set them inside. you make sure to mind your feet, noticing figaro nosily has his furry face lifted to sniff into the side door.

she strings some sarcasm into her sentiment, "oh yum." she pauses, letting the sizzle of the egg and (now faint) music linger in the air before she speaks again, "how about you go take a shower or do something that'll make you feel a little better?"

"you know i would but being around my favorite roommate is already making me feel sooo much better!" you deliver the dry joke with a smile and pick up figaro when you shut the fridge door with an accidental slam.

she turns to look at you over her shoulder as she grabs two glass plates for the both of you, scolding you like a mother (as she tended to transform into at times like this due to her essentially parenting her younger siblings) "y/n, you're only fighting yourself, go ahead now."

౨ৎ

matt can hear chris' voice only grow louder and pound against the hallway walls but assumes he is heading anywhere but the space that matt's in, deciding to continue brushing his teeth instead.

he'd only be so lucky on his birthday.

"but yeah-" chris interrupts himself to knock and barely wait for an answer before he walks into matt's sleek bathroom. "matt's here!" his phone is carelessly thrown in front of matt's face (with a frothing mouth and irritated eyes) before he has truly registered anything that has happened.

he truly wants to roll his eyes infinitely but when he sees his mother is the one on the phone, his grumpy front is quickly wilted and a glimmer kisses his spirit in a way only she could produce.

it's clear she hadn't expected matt to be in the middle of something as personal as brushing his teeth when she first sees him, "oh, hi matt!" she understands him well enough to know he absolutely hates this (this being chris unnecessarily close to him as he hunches over to keep matt's face in the camera) so she attempts to amuse him, "wow, you're really showing your age now, aren't you? just looking so put together and nice." she laughs to herself as matt tries to not smile whilst brushing, holding his index finger up to indicate that he would address her with words in only a moment.

"chris, honey, why'd you bring me to your brother when he's busy, anyway?! now we're just watchin' him brush his teeth and the angles you're givin' me are so awkward," she emphasizes her sentence as it goes on.

chris turns the phone back to himself, "because you told me to show him?!"

"no, i said 'where's matt?'" she corrects him in jest.

"okay, so am i incorrect in saying that there was an implication-?"

matt dries his face with a towel and grabs the phone scolding chris, "hey we get it, smartass-" he turns to look at her again with a smile, "sorry mom."

"mhm," she dismisses, "when's this party of yours starting?"

"soon i think," matt moves around chris to exit the bathroom, leaving chris (literally) in the dark.

"okay and how's your birthday been so far?" he smiles knowing how excited she's always been about these things.

"good, i don't feel any different. just doin' the same stuff, except today there's way more people sending me texts and pretending the care about me." matt places the phone against a bowl full of chips in the kitchen, waving when he notices chris followed him.

"get down here nick, mom's on the phone!" chris yells, coming into frame and leaning on the counter. "jeez, matt's masochism can't give any of us a break even on days literally made for our happiness. you hearin' this kid ma?"

matt shakes his head, pointing to chris with his handful of chips, "spell masochism."

chris' eyes pinch and before their mother or chris himself reply, nick is running over to them with a smile and yell of "im heree!!"

she's has the much-expected motherly urge to cry seeing her three sons (whom she rarely sees anymore) all in the same frame, "aw, hi nicky! just look at you boys...so sweet."

it only takes another second before she's crumbling in tears. their smiles drop as chris grabs his phone. they all begin spilling out the most comforting phrases they know to cheer her up.

౨ৎ

"okay people! cake is coming through! everyone move. move, move...precious cargo right here and your ass is in the way!" asha yells and shines her phone's flashlight into the faces in the crowded living room as she ushers the girls to the kitchen.

she earns a few glares that she happily dishes back and a few mumbles of "bitch" once she's walked past that has remi "accidentally" stepping on a certain people's shoes while following asha's lead.

the modern open kitchen hosts plenty of drinks and snacks as well as a worried nathan, who's shirt is barely on his torso from the amount of buttons he's undone since stepping foot in the wild space. "oh thank god the cake's are here," he sighs with a throw of his head before frantically moving a platter of chips and guac (that someone was actively eating from) and a few six packs from the island to the opposite counter, encouraging the girls to place them down with an awkward nod of his head and harsh blink of his eyes.

asha holds back a laugh at nate's odd vibe as she moves next to him, nudging his shoulder, "what's wrong with you?"

"nothing," his head whips to look at her, "well, i mean, think 'm just nervous." he starts slow but it seems he needed someone to finally prompt him to share such a frustrated rant, "like- chris comes to me and asks me to throw him the best party. yet he doesn't give me shit to work with besides his home to host it in-" he breathes, "and 'm feelin' all the pressure of planning a party right now but, you know, i just need things to go smooth and then i'll be fine..." he runs a hand through his hair, "you ladies don't worry about me." he fakes a smile and gives a small wave of his wrist to show just how "fine" he is.

coinciding with nate's rant, you've began to pour a hefty amount of vodka and lemon juice (you absolutely scoured the fridge for) into a large glass. you hand it off to andrea with a pleading "mix" as you lick the remaining lemon juice from your thumb and open cabinets to search for shot glasses.

you line up a multitude of shot glasses with various cities labeled on them as andrea pours the mixture in carefully. you immediately bring one up to nathan, "lemon drop?"

"yes, please. no way your a fucking bartender and baker?" nate's eyes widen as he receives the small glass.

"no, definitely not. just live with a girl whois always making her own drinks at home," you smile and grab your own glass as the rest of the girls follow suit.

"i need this right now," remi starts, "let's cheers to drea's DIY shit and nathan making it through the rest of the night!" she woops and the group all let out various chuckles.

"a-fuckin'-men!" nate leans to clink the small glasses softly before taking the shot quickly. he barely recovers from the shot before he's pouring more vodka into his glass and taking a second.

you get the best view of chris turning the corner and seeing you all (his reaction is more specifically for andrea) have arrived. his jaw hangs dramatically as he walks over but quickly turns to a big smile when the group all start to sing happy birthday to him. "stop it! stop it!" he jokes and begins to give out hugs and thank each of you for coming. he stops and squeezes you extra tight, bringing up the cakes sat nearby, "i know that bakery anywhere. thank you for my cake."

"of course, i had to," you smile.

"no seriously, you're fuckin' awesome, girl." you can tell he's already a little buzzed from the look in his eyes but you also know he's almost more truthful than ever when drunk.

you notice that when he leaves you to finally greet your roommate, it's very clear he's purposely left andrea last to ensure there would be no rush on his interaction.

the rest of the group leave them to their own world for a moment; as the two hug chris gives her a soft kiss on her forehead, whispering "hi, mi cariña (my darling)" an inside joke between the two of them as chris' struggle with speaking spanish never fails to make andrea laugh.

౨ৎ

"okay, okay, i'll do it," matt finally gives in, lifting himself off of the black couch with people piled on top of it. he hands his drink over to elijah smoothly and begins to playfully rub his hands together.

"'hold my beer' headass," elijah jokes placing the cup off on a side table next to him. matt stops any movement, turning his torso to look back at the boy and start to laugh while holding both middle fingers up.

"matt," erin taps him with the side of her arm twice to get his attention again, handing him the second wii remote in her hands. the screen appears extra bright in contrast to the dimness of the room which causes matt to wonder how the fuck anyone has managed to play just dance in this space without getting a sudden head rush or worse.

"okay, let's do timber because it's classic," she suggests.

"let's not," matt opposes, his hand covering his mouth to hide a grin before running his cursor over the other choices.

erin looks over to him with a blank expression, "i mean i don't care that much you can-"

"'m joking, we'll do timber," matt looks from her to the colorful screen to find the song once more.

when he notices she's stiil looking over at him with an unreadable expression, matt smiles big attempting to not laugh, causing his already-slim eyes to pinch a little extra as he turns to her, "hey e, the screen's right up there, you won't be getting much direction from starin' at me-" he breaks into obnoxious laughter mid-way through his sentence which earns him a small smack on the arm.

erin laughs a little now, "would you stop it? just click 'a' on your fucking remote."

he does as she says and looks to her as the screen loads, "thereee we go, you can cool down now, sweetheart."

as the two dance both matt and his friends make one-off comments and jokes about the many times matt almost fell (and would make sure to blame it on the rug or his shoes). they seem to be having such a great time that you don't know if you only being there for the final few lines of the song, watching erin ride matt's back as they spin in circles laughing, is fortunate or unfortunate.

the claps and whistles are wild when the two finish with a bow, the crowd around them only getting louder when matt teases that he's so hot he might have to take off his shirt, lifting it slightly then putting it back down and calling them pervs. you only shake your head and bite back a smile, hating how fucking charming he is when he allows himself to be completely lost in a good time.

matt would say you snuck onto the sectional couch- because a minute ago you weren't there and now here you are talking elijah's ear off and taking repeated hits of his blunt.

but you wouldn't say you snuck into his area, rather walked in a manner in which you'd be out of his and erin's way- of course not taking away from the birthday boy and his...good friend. so you're a bit surprised he slumps on the couch next to you and not in his original spot on the opposite side of eli, "sunnnyy," he huffs and leans his head back against the couch, "when'd you get here, huh?"

you turn to look at him and he smiles at you then looks up to the ceiling, "think an hour ago? maybe?" you hand him the blunt.

"cool, cool, cool..." matt repeats cutting himself off by placing it in his mouth. he's dressed so stylish and attractive you can't help but scan over him with your eyes; his jersey-style shirt showing off his armfuls of tattoos, baggy jeans, car keys hanging on a cheetah print clip attached to his belt loop, shoes that look straight out of the box, a matching hat that you honestly wish he'd take off, and his signature silver jewelry brightening his attributes in the otherwise dark room.

he makes the slightest "tsss" sound when breathing in the drug before speaking with smoke plummeting from his mouth, "you should dance next," he brings it back to his mouth for a final hit.

"mmm maybe...if lucas is up for it," you play with the metal can of a wine cooler that you hold on your bare knee as matt leans over you to hand an occupied eli his blunt back, his laugh trails smoke out of his mouth and into your face as he slouches back next to you.

"forgot you're fuckin, hilarious! holy shit." his hand makes its way up his own shirt to rest on his stomach as he giggles.

a smile grows on your face, "no seriously is he here?" you lift yourself up a little and pretend to look for the familiar face.

"stop that." matt chuckles and tugs your wrist gently. you almost get nervous this time when you look him in the eyes. when he's drunk, matt is so carefree and giggly in a way you rarely get to see. and now you’re starting to notice how the poor lighting makes his features appear arched and his face look carved into, yet the jagged becomes soft and fuzzy whenever the gumdrop-colored lights of the wii game hit his face with the beat of the song. he notices your staring and lets go of your wrist, "what's up?"

"nothing."

"excuse me everyone! i would like to give a speech! hello, i am giving a speechhh! everyone shut up, please!" nick projects his voice into the microphone- he stole from the karaoke machine -while standing on a dining room chair.

as people start to calm down nick speaks, "right, so, it's my fuckin' birthday!” he raises his arms and dances his fingers before pointing out matt, “and it's matt's fuckin' birthday, right over there! let's get some flashlights pointing over to my brother please!" matt’s face flushes as he covers his eyes from the sudden bright lights. you squint your own eyes from next to him and move closer to eli to avoid the flashes.

"and it's chris' fuckin' birthday..." nick looks around, "i couldn't tell you where exactly he is, just know that he is also here tonight!” the crowd roars, “anyway... i'm so- so happy to have you all with us tonight to celebrate. we turn twenty fucking three and... that feels so old saying it out loud. holy shit." nick cringes obnoxiously, slurring his next few words, "but i love my two best friends in the whole world: chris and matt, i wouldn’t wish to share a birthday with anyone else… and i love all of you thank you again. oh! and shout out nathan for holding this shit down! if you see nathan give him something... i don't know- money? a kiss? a drink? fuck if i know." as nick speaks cameron nudges him with a shot glass which he finally acknowledges, "and apparently this is a toast now so, you know, here's to getting older and having the most fun forever!" he raises the glass in the air and drinks it without further thought, inviting everyone to do the same while cheering and applauding him in excitement.

you raise your wine cooler and let out many cheers along with the rest, but of course matt ridicules you a little in jest, "really? you sit here and 'woo' while i'm going blind?!" he’s still wiping at his eyes, dealing with the aftermath of bright lights shining in his eyes; his vision tainted with faint blue and red splotches only for a second. you lean closer to him, attempting to see his eyes better while uncontrollably laughing.

"are you crying?!"

matt thinks you look really pretty even when you're quite literally pointing and laughing in his face. you move his hands away from his face and he widens his eyes dramatically, "look, no 'm not!” you shake your head in response, “does really it look like it?"

you notice his bottom eyelashes are slightly clumped and you move your hand closer, placing your thumb under his eye, "baby, that's damp!" you giggle and pull his hand close, using your thumb to draw a wet line across his tattooed wrist to prove your point.

he drags out his first word, "alrighttt. whatever! you got me, sweet girl. ‘cause god forbid i have the ability to cry?!” pulling away from you with a smile as he dries his eyes by rubbing them gently.

matt excuses himself with a quick "gonna go grab another drink or somethin'" before he does something irrational like kiss you in front of all these fucking people.

౨ৎ

you carefully open each of the packaged cakes, each revealing the boys' full names written in cursive with the uniquely styled and colored buttercream frosting you made that very morning. you used the same shades to make the puffed frosting border of the cakes, for an easy, soft garnish. remi follows behind you, lighting candles on the cakes as you go.

there's a chaos that comes with trying to gather this many (drunk) people in one area and capture their attention long enough to sing then cut cakes. it doesn’t help that the hosts are at their most unserious themselves; matt and nick both snickering and making jokes while holding onto each other while chris talks to one of his friends off to the side with his obnoxiously loud voice without regard for anyone around him.

“okay, people we’re singing!” nathan attempts to yell over the loudness of the crowded room. you and remi are then in the position of getting the attention of the birthday boys who can’t focus on the task at hand, leaving you both to snap your fingers and call them as if you were attempting to take photos of a stubborn baby.

you truly wish it didn’t irk you so terribly but you can’t help your annoyance when matt looks over to erin after she shouts from next to you, “matt, can you pay attention? your cake’s ready,” and he listens, moving nick off of him with a shoulder nudge and laugh as he approaches the row of cakes.

you recover quickly with a smile once both matt and nick’s eyes widen and mouths hang open in awe of your hard work, “s’perfect,” matt whispers to himself, now adjusting his hat to fit backwards.

“oh my god, the wax got in my cake! what the fuck,” nick whines and that cues drea to tug chris’ arm softly and urge him with a hushed, “chris ven aquí (come here)!”

and he's is down so terribly that he moves to where she wants him immediately.

chris is a known sap, especially when wasted, so he’s stood fighting the urge to cry when taking in the scene in front of him: his brothers and friends gathered together to celebrate their twenty three years of life together.

he tucks his lip into his mouth and looks down at the burning flame, slowly smiling when everyone around them begin to sing a rendition of happy birthday with all the charmingly bad high notes and run on “you”s but not forgetting to crunch all three names into a single line.

midway through the song, chris leans to hug matt in comfort while sneaking a reach into matt’s back pocket to grab the slim joint he just knew would be there. he grins to himself, “sweet! free j and free light,” placing it into his mouth as he leans over his cake to spark the joint hanging in his mouth with as much precision as possible. andrea shakes her head in confusion while filming on her phone beside to you.

“dude,” matt lets out a breathy laugh while waving his hand to clear the atmosphere of the potent smoke. sudden applause recognizing the end of the song and leading the three to blow out their candles.

matt gave up on birthday wishes a while into his teen years and nothing changes this year; he blows his candles out and claps along with the crowd before accepting his joint from chris for a few puffs of celebration.

you watch in amusement as nathan distracts the boys with shots to get them away from the cakes as andrea begins to cut. except no shot could beat the view of andrea bent over the counter like she is now, so chris is practically on top of drea with annoying whines of “i wanna see,” when she asks him to be careful and wait a second.

you, however, are actively searching for the spiked punch that elijah recommended when you run into erin and matt talking. they both look to you with different expressions as you squeeze yourself by them to get to the punch bowl.

you remind yourself that erin is your friend, not your enemy. nor your competition. meaning you also have to remind yourself that matt is some guy you fuck around with, not your boyfriend.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in while grabbing a plastic cup and using a small ladle to pour the peach colored liquid for yourself. instead of flat-out staring at the two, you take turns looking from them to your cup. you watch as they pose for a picture; erin taking his hat to place on her own head and matt smiling next to her. and another with her kissing his cheek as he laughs.

it’s upsetting- no, humiliating to you. and how especially humiliating that your first thought is whether he’ll dismiss you for erin when you ask him to fuck you later tonight? you blame the weed for getting you so worked up over minutiae interactions.

you’re brought out of your daze in the most humbling of ways: a sudden splash hits your bare foot and covers your black kitten heels in the sticky juice. “fuck,” you groan and place the ladle back into the punch bowl, taking a large sip of your overflowing drink as you look down at the puddle of pink you’re standing in.

you find a towel laying nearby and lower yourself to fumble and wipe your shoe.

“damn y/n, you like my punch that much?” a voice asks from next to you.

you look up and see lucas smiling down at you, “you made it?” you ask genuinely as he helps you rise to standing again.

“no,” he smiles and you roll your eyes, “but im wondering how you managed to spill any with this itty bitty fucking ladle?” he jokes, lifting the ladle and watching it pour the small bit of juice it managed to gather back into the bowl.

“i just wasn’t paying attention,” you laugh and sip your drink again.

“mhm…why’s that?” he squints his eyes down at you.

you tap two of your french tip fingernails against your skull, “so much is happening up here.”

“like what?”

“i don’t knowww,” you smirk and look away to take another sip of your drink.

“well, i know you look sexy as fuck in this dress right now. look at you,” he wets his lips and offers his hand to you with a grin, showing off a few of his shining tooth gems.

you try to maintain your composure and not smile too big but it’s a challenge when he playfully gets you to spin slowly for him and show off the tiny strapless dress you have on as he “oouu”s and whistles to hype you up.

“mm, you like that?” you look up at him, blinking slowly.

he nods and chuckles, “you know damn well-” looking off to the side then gaining your eye contact once more as he wipes over his mouth with his hand, glancing over your body, “‘course i do.”

"good. we should dance then," you guide him to the living room with his hand still in yours.

౨ৎ

you hate to be the bitch on her phone at a party but you can’t stop staring at it. you tap past the story then go back to look again. you even rewatch it in the perspective of someone who hadn’t been there to see the photo taken to see how it would be perceived. hurting your own feelings knowing they could very well assume matt to be erin’s boyfriend with how close they’re standing and her lips against his face.

it’s very dizzying and ruining your high quite a bit, especially paired with andrea who continues to look to you to celebrate after every ping pong ball she throws whether she makes it or not.

you go to rewatch the story once more, only this time a text from matt slides down on your screen to interrupt your sulking:

MATT

Hey come here

Y/N

where???

MATT

Outside youll see me

you let andrea know you’re going outside for air before walking over to a glass sliding door to let yourself out.

you see matt holding a stick while looking down at his phone, fire pit radiating next to him, a mass of people surrounding it.

your arms wrap and hold onto your shoulders as you walk closer, feeling the breeze rack through your body despite the internal heat from the many drinks you've had over the course of the night.

as you approach, asha gets up from her spot on nick's lap to give you a hug, "y/n! hiii." she pulls away and her hands remain on your shoulders, "your cake was so delicious, i tried a bite of each."

"oh good, 'm glad." you smile.

she feels your hands, "are you cold, babe? come sit." she guides you over to the group of people sat around the fire. "you can take my spot, i'll stand," she insists and nick agrees smiling kindly.

you interrupt matt's texting to figure out why he wanted you here, cupping your hands to shout, "matt!" across the lawn from your spot atop nick.

he looks over and quips his head while moving closer, "hey, was just wonderin' if you'd try my s'more? nick thinks he makes them best." he smiles but you can't help but feel that there's a catch to this.

"always gotta prove someone wrong. yeah, i'll do it." you agree as he moves to grab the snack he'd apparently already prepared.

nick mutters, "don't let him bully you into liking his, and don't forget who's acting as your chair currently!" from behind you as you giggle into the bite that matt gives you, holding the smore in his hand up to your mouth.

you chew slowly and matt watches, chatter and crinkles of the fire filling the heated space. you finally nod your head and matt smirks, "so good, right?" matt asks and brings his hand to hold your face and wipe around the corner of your mouth, looking to his right with a smile then back to you.

you feel awkwardly and unnaturally sensual, moving his hand away from your face and searching for what he's looked over to, catching the eye of lucas, standing with a group of guys lighting up near a fence. so that is the fucking catch.

you lick your lips of any remaining marshmallow and shake your head, annoyed, "i don't know, it tastes normal and graham cracker is fucking stale." you look up at him and his face is adorned with confusion on your change of heart.

you feel too fucking weird about this. you wish you couldn't believe that he'd use your feelings towards him for some weird shit like claiming you from lucas, but it's not surprising in the slightest; matt wants his cake yet he'll always want to eat it too.

"yeah, nick wins." you pat the side of nick's thigh to grab his attention and tell him the news, making him cheer and bring you into his chest for a small hug.

matt's lips form the smallest pucker as he watches you get up and walk towards the house without further conversation.

"bye, y/n!" asha yells.

౨ৎ

matt lays flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling to try and organize his many thoughts when his door creaks slightly, allowing a roar of party chatter into his space before it shuts again.

he lifts only his head up to see erin stood with a small smile before letting himself fall back into his plush comforter, "hey, i got your shit in the first drawer over there." he points to a tall dresser across the room.

he listens to her shuffle around before finding a large bag of weed, coming close to him and placing a few folded bills in his front pocket slowly. she then moves so that she hovers over his dazed face, "thank you, are you sure you don't need anything else from me? it is your birthday..." she grins and runs a hand over his chest. he mimics her smile (intended in more of a mocking way than she takes it) and laughs softly.

"no, i'm good on that, e. you enjoy your doobies and shit," he continues to softly laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides before she thanks him again and gives him a small peck.

"happy birthday, matty!" she sings before closing the door to his room and heading straight to his bathroom next door to pee.

matt would say it hasn't even been four minutes since erin left him when you're stumbling into his room. he repeats his look up, only to soften a bit when he sees you make effort to move some of his shoes out of the walkway so that you don't trip, "hi, baby" he waves you over with his fingers and welcomes you as if you'll be staying for long, "lock that door for me." he figures if you came to see him after storming away like that at the fire pit you're either gonna spit your thoughts in his face or sit on his face, there's no in between.

"i found you," you smile and twist the smaller knob to lock the door from the rowdiness. you then make your way over to sit at the end of his bed and begin to fiddle with the straps on your tiny heels, "my feet have been achin' so bad," you look at him as you complain.

"mm, i'm sure."

when your feet are finally free from your shoes you place them on the ground and adjust yourself on the bed. you silently grimace seeing matt with his shoes remaining on his feet despite being on his bed.

he giggles when you begin to unlace them, "feel like a fuckin' princess."

you roll your eyes and begin to pull them off, "with the way you act you might as well be one."

"ouch? it's my birthday," he holds his heart while looking to you playfully.

you tilt your head and drop his second shoe right on the floor as you stare back at him, "oh, i know."

"right. what's wrong now?"

you run your hands along his legs as you inch up his body and hover yourself over his crotch, "nothing. everything's fine, right?" you adjust your hair away from your face.

"sure, uh huh," matt looks up at you and bites his lower lip while moving his hands to hold and squeeze your full thighs. he silently admires the way you fill that tiny dress and look down at him from this angle.

you look away for a moment then decide to put your full weight onto matt, muffled groan leaving his mouth. your lips curve up as you pull his bottom lip from his mouth with your thumb to replace it with your mouth, sucking and kissing it. your tongue runs over his lips a few times before matt takes hold of your head and pulls you impossibly closer to capture your mouth messily with his own.

the kiss is a filthy, drunken sight: noses meshing and colliding, tongues playing and licking, and moans escaping and ringing into the air desperately.

you pull away with a wet smack and whisper into his lips, "i've got another present for you..."

"mmm?" his eyes widen and he squeezes your neck gently, kissing you once more, "for real? like, more than this?!" his hand feathers over your ass, insinuating the way you're sat on top of him right now could easily be his best gift tonight.

"yes," you breathe then begin to giggle, "you're gonna lose your shit, i think."

his mind can think of a lot of things you could do to make him lose his shit, "damn, okay. well, show me. you got my stomach dancin' and shit." he holds you so that you stay put as he lifts himself to rest on his elbows.

your smile bites over your bottom lip now as you raise yourself from his lap once more. your nail taps against your upper thigh as you look down at him, "kiss, please?"

he doesn't have to move much, as your leg is already so close to his face. he keeps heated eye contact with you when he kisses and marks the skin you'd point to, causing small mindless noises to fall from your mouth as you play with his soft hair (that you unfortunately hadn't seen much of tonight).

when he's finished he looks up to you with his red, puffy eyes and wet lips as you thank him, "now...pay attention." you gently demand as you slowly move your dress up your body.

matt studies your movement in awe, eventually catching your gift in his line of sight. he knows you must think you're so sneaky when you only show a glimmer of your lacy white panties, with a cursive red "M" embroidered near the waistband, before quickly pushing your dress back down with an uncontrollable laugh.

matt's face morphs to express a million different emotions and he doesn't realize how loud his voice is when he speaks, "what the fuck?!" he looks up at you- with your head thrown back laughing -then back to your covered lower half. "what was that? hold the fuck on," you body is so loose with laughter that he easily grabs you and flips you onto the bed so that you lay underneath him, still squirming in your own giggles (yelling a few "matt!"s or "matt wait i can't breathe!"s).

his face is full of amusement when he firmly lifts your dress to get a better look at what you've done for him. "oh my god, 'm gonna pass the fuck out. look at you, sunny!" he rubs his eyes dramatically and shakes his head. "no, you're so bad."

"you like it?" you ask, licking over your lips and reaching your hands up to trace the small hairs prickling on matt's jawline.

"course i do, the fuck type of question is that?!" he turns his face to kiss your inner palm before bending closer to kiss your lips once more.

"happy birthday, matt." you say in between kisses, "there's somethin' else if you look a little more."

"really?" he immediately splits from you and looks to your panties once more, running his hands over your lower stomach. the cherry red joint laying against your hip and tucked into your underwear catches him by surprise but the stoner in him nearly cums on the spot.

he removes it from it's place and kisses you mumbling a reminder that "you're so hot" and "the marijuana bug must've bit you real bad" before he gets up to store it in his bedside table, patting the closed drawer and joking, "for when i miss you."

he stands above you for an extra second to shake his head slowly with a tut, but when you whine "c'mereee," he's hushing you and removing his shirt before crawling back on top of you.

your hands run across every inch of his warm torso as you both sloppily kiss, and matt's own hands curiously make their way into your underwear for a proper feel of your wet core.

he allows you to desperately grind your hips against his hand until he eventually decides he needs to taste you. he lowers himself to face your clothed pussy, tracing the "M" with a finger as he places his tongue flat against you and places pressure on your most sensitive area.

his finger once tracing, now moves to pull the tiny piece of fabric off of you. he looks into your eyes as he easily stuffs the cloth in his back pocket, mumbling "mine now" while moving his fingers through your sticky folds.

you cry out when he dips two fingers into you teasingly, over and over again, and another series of moans leaves your mouth when he begins to lick over your clit eagerly.

matt continues his efforts, spitting on your clit a few times to watch it drip down to where his fingers harshly move inside of you; his movements quickening while he watches.

and just before you cum you dumbly warn him, which makes him stop entirely. "no, matt. stop, please come back. please."

"shhh. don't start that shit, you'll cum twice on your day..." he unbuttons his pants, "plus, you know it feels so much better when you wait and have to chase it a few times." he smirks and nudges your clit with his finger once more making you breathe out a moan and close your legs around his hand.

he pulls away from you to finish undressing before laying back dowm in his tight boxers, "come take care of me, sunny. i need you."

"hm...and i needed you too..." you lift yourself up and pout as you climb off the bed and get closer to where he lies, turning and moving your hair away for your back, "unzip me, please?"

he does just as you say and watches you finish removing your dress in only one movement. when you climb on top of him he now gets a view of your tits directly in his face that has him humming and immediately feeling you up.

he kisses and licks the skin while you scratch at his scalp in the most sensual way. you reach behind you to dip your hand into his boxers, immediately coming in contact with his sensitive and slightly sticky tip. he tilts his head back with a groan as soon as you begin to stroke him beneath the fabric making a sinical smile form on your face.

you push the boxers further down his thighs to fully expose him as you bring your lips down to him again. his moans flow into your mouth when you repeatedly rush your movements then slowly circle his head.

eventually matt's eyebrows pinch in terribly tight and he grabs your hand, sighing, "god damn, baby. chill or i'll be cummin' before i'm inside you."

you roll your eyes playfully, "okay?" as you adjust yourself to align over his length, before sinking down on top of him.

"mmm, fuck." he encourages when you lift yourself and slam back down on top of him. you move his hands to hold your hips then spread your hands over his chest as you continue.

matt can't help but slap your ass a few times after discovering the way your muscles flutter around him so perfectly each time. but one smack in particular aids you to practically fall onto his chest whining, "matt i can't, please just-."

he immediately lifts your face to give him a much needed kiss before reaching to realign himself and hold onto you as he thrusts rhythmically into you.

moans sneak from your mouth and interrupt you from kissing and holding onto matt's neck, which only encourage matt until he's completely flustered and drilling into you sloppily.

matt can tell you're cumming by your all too and familiar broken moans. and once you harshly kiss him and ask him to let go in return he finally stills inside of you and groans into your soft shoulder.

a silence coats the room, leaving the overpowering music and talking of the party to linger through the air in a cloudy murmur.

matt keeps his arms around you while you recover from your high, staring at the ceiling of his faintly lit room in questionable thought.

and he assumes you must be doing the same; only he mistakes the wetness of your tears for his own sweat as you turn your head away from him to dissolve your embarrassingly shaky breaths.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list is in the replies ily!!!!

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writing-mlm · 2 months

Note

Hey pookie, can I please request a Damian x male reader where they're enemies/rivals to lovers? Like both of them are the top students in their college and they tried to top the other by getting a better grade and showing it off to the other?

(can I please have soft damian too? Please 🙏)

Summa Cum shut the fuck up [D.W]

Summary: Stanford was your dream and some rich kid wasn't going to stop that, but damn those party lights make him look really nice. Pairing: Damian Wayne x Male reader WC: 5.2k a/n: ngl in the first draft the roommate died and it was so left-field field I had to rewrite the whole thing

Summa Cum Lade and Valedictorian, that was the only option.

Having been your high school valedictorian, gotten into the national honor society, and taking every single AP class you could all four years just for a chance at being at the top. Over seventy applications across the U.S. and every single one had a large accepted letter attached to it. It was your moment— Stanford was yours.

You’d taken out loans for whatever your scholarships didn’t cover, like your meal plan and housing. But it didn't matter, you were prepared for anything and everything. Nothing was about to come between you and that number-one spot.

Until you saw Damian Wayne.

He lived across from you with your roommate's best friend, Jaime Reyes. But the two were painfully different and Jaime would more often than not hang out in the common area just to get away from their suffocating dorm. As such, their dorm door was painfully barren in the hallway filled with decorated doors. Not that Jaime didn’t try, it’s just Wayne would take it down as soon as he noticed. Not to mention Wayne had a thing for glaring at anyone who dared to knock on his door. Never mind that Jaime had been making friends left and right.

You didn’t care at first, why should you? Some rich kid who doesn’t want anyone to steal his valuables. It’s whatever, not like it’s going to affect you.

Until it did.

The two of you happened to have most of the same classes, being the same major and all. And at first, you didn’t pay any mind to him, he was just another one of the kids in the sea of students until the first marking period came around.

And his name was above yours.

You remembered staring at your screen, looking at the 99.7% right below the 99.8%. It was the first time since elementary school that you had come in second. It made this feeling bubble up and you nearly had a breakdown. That feeling was pure hatred. This— this stupid rich boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth was not about to take away your goal.

“Looks like you got competition,” Jaime had laughed from his dorm. You’d only heard it because you needed some fresh air before you tried to scoop your brain out.

“The gap won’t be as small next time,” Wayne replied as Jaime opened the door. The two of you made eye contact while Jaime awkwardly tried to excuse himself to the bathroom.

You’d be damned if you let some rich kid who probably bought their way in be better than you.

You spent all of your free time at the school library or in the common area at night, studying and memorizing. Homework and projects were done in record time and you absolutely used the most out-of-office hours with your professors. All of whom were confused as to why their top student was coming in without needing any actual help.

Test after test, you saw that the top two students were you and him. Your first finals were tough though. You probably averaged an hour's worth of sleep that entire week and drowned yourself in whatever textbooks or worksheets you could to prepare yourself.

“(L/n),” Wayne greeted you as the two of you were in line at the TSA. Break officially started the next day but due to your finals being done, you got to leave earlier.

“Wayne.” It’s a little surprising seeing the son of a billionaire fly commercial, let alone with Spirit Airlines but to each their own. You didn’t care enough to give it another thought. His eyes wander over you and he quietly hums. It doesn’t look like you’ve packed anything other than clothes and toiletries. And your electronics.

He isn’t stupid. He knows you’re overworking yourself to be the best in school. He knows you obsessively check over the dean's list, that you probably have an alarm to make it a point to never drop below the number one spot for the freshmen. Overall, you rank three, which you’ll take. There are smarter people than you, just not anyone in your year.

A part of him wanted to relax a bit, and make himself get a few questions wrong to ensure you remain in that number one spot. Maybe then you’ll ease up on yourself and not look like a zombie every single day. But he can’t bring himself to. It feels like pity and Damian Wayne doesn’t do pity.

Besides, he’s never had someone to go head to head with him who wasn’t almost a decade older than him. To him, this rivalry was fun. To you, it was a means to an end. You felt that deep within you, you needed to beat him. If you weren’t willing to sacrifice your time and energy for that then what was the point in high school of isolating yourself?

As the line moves up, you cover a yawn by rolling your neck. This stupid red-eye flight is worse than any final you’ve taken.

You’re beyond tired and you’re sure your expression displayed nothing but that but you were counting on that nap in the flight to fix that.

Thankfully, there’s not much of a wait as you’re at your gate less than half an hour later, checking in.

“Oh,” The man at the desk pauses as he scans your ticket. You panic a little, did you get the dates wrong? The time? The location. Shit, maybe those hours of lost sleep had gotten to you. “You’ve been upgraded from economy to first class. Enjoy your flight.” He smiles and hands you back the ticket. You thank him and take your seat, silently happy you were going to sleep in first class.

—

Returning to Stanford from winter break, you were happy to be back. You felt wasted— almost hollow not studying at home, as if nothing else mattered except studying. But your family didn’t let you get much studying in, after four months apart they missed you. A lot. And you went back to where your family was from to visit them instead of going home so you were never given a moment of

solace unless you were asleep. Your siblings and your extended family were always around you, asking you about college, how they’d seen your grades, and how exciting it was that you were in such a huge school.

It also felt a little weird without having Wayne there. In a weird sort of way, you missed glancing at his results to see if he got higher than you. To share those smug glances as you passed each other to the showers. Like it or not, he’d become a staple in your day-to-day life on campus.

You found yourself daydreaming about him being there as your family had parties and celebrations for various reasons. The holidays, your return home, and two birthdays happened in those two months you were away from campus. And they were sad to see you go for another four months.

Of course, you returned with a bunch of gifts and mementos from your family.

Wayne noticed it first, he saw you return to your dorm actually looking human. He’d gotten so used to the eyebags and the pain medications you’d take because the headaches were getting too bad, and the early signs of hand tremors you tried to shake off. A part of him was glad you were taken care of during the break, he’d seen a lot of people break down in Gotham for less and just hoped he didn’t have to deal with that at Stanford.

Maybe he just didn’t want that to happen to you.

But he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he watches as you fall into the same pattern. And no one around you seems to give a shit that you’re basically slowly killing yourself. He resents Frankie in a way, as a roommate and a friend of yours, he has the most power in that situation to force some sense into you. Instead, he jokes and laughs at your state, unaware of how damaging it truly is.

“All that studying won’t help you much, (L/n).” Wayne says as he walks past you the second week back from break, two textbooks tucked under his arm and a cup of water in his hand. You glare at him but only for a moment before going back to reading. For some reason, you can’t really focus knowing he’s around you. Somewhere, probably watching you. Hearing him sit a table away, you check the time for the first time that night.

4:34 am

What was he doing up so late? Normally, you had the common area to yourself at this time. No one in their right mind would be awake at 4:30. Maybe he was feeling the stress of the new classes, too. Or maybe Jaime was snoring too loudly and he figured since he was awake he should study, too.

Either way, he wasn’t going to take away from your study time. He already occupied a space in your mind against your will. And that was more than enough.

Feeling a yawn crawling its way up your throat you swallow it back down and reach for your cup of energy drink mixed with coffee when you feel something hit your neck. You can’t tell what though, as the second you feel it, you’re out like a light. You do feel a hand save your head from hitting the hard table, though. But it was the last thing you remembered from that night.

—

“You’re finally awake!” Frankie, your roommate, greets you as he walks into your dorm with a slushie and cupcake in hand. You’re sitting, blinking at the floor trying to remember how you ended up in your room.

“Did I start sleepwalking?” You croak out, your mouth dry and throat tight. Frankie only grins and sits on his bed, watching as your face scrunches at the pain. “God, did you leave the window open again?” Blinking over to the window, you see it wide open and groan, throwing yourself back down to the bed.

“Wanna head down and grab lunch? It ends in like twenty,” He asks, grabbing his phone from his pocket and checking the time. “Nineteen minutes until lunch is over.” So it’s almost three. You’d slept most of the day but it was a Friday so you didn’t have any classes. You didn’t miss any classes, thank god.

Then again, you could’ve been studying.

“I’m good,” Standing up, you crack your back and sigh. Not that you’d admit it, but you needed that nap. “Gotta shower and study.” Frankie frowns, watching as you collect your stuff before leaving the dorm. As you leave, he sees Wayne exiting his room and the two of them make eye contact. He shakes his head and Wayne turns to watch as you leave before nodding to him and leaving.

Frankie frowns as he watches you leave. You’re stumbling and still trying to shake the sleep off, unaware that your left pants leg was halfway up your thigh and the right one was somehow twisted around. He grumbles and rushes to catch up to Wayne.

Half an hour later and you’re inside the library. There’s one seat you’ve always sat at and you’re glad to see it’s empty; seeing as you’d be spending most of the day there.

Setting your stuff on the table that’s pressed against the wall and diving back into where you left off the night before. It’s perfect in the library, there’s hardly anyone inside and the temperature finally isn’t bone freezing or blistering hot. Your headphones are on and there’s no one around, so you’re free of any possible distractions. Not to mention not tired after your ten-hour nap.

About twenty minutes into studying, you can feel someone behind you; staring. But it’s probably the librarian so you don’t pay it any mind and continue on with your work. The feeling stays for another minute or so, and it’s making you a little uneasy, the Liberian would’ve moved on by that point. Hell, you’ve moved on to your ten-page essay, having enough of reading from the illegal copy of the textbook you downloaded.

Maybe you should just turn around. It’s probably someone asking for the wifi password.

Another minute passed and suddenly a slight shadow was cast over your laptop. You can see the outline of the person and go to groan when Wayne sets a cup of your favorite drink and lunch down to your left. It effectively shuts you up, halting the annoyed groan you were fixing to let out.

A nice gesture from him? That’s… strangely nice.

“Thank you…?” Sliding the headphones off, you turn to see him but he’s already walking away. Weird. Looking at the food, you almost— almost smile seeing that the food had those protective films covering it. The film was covered in a thin layer of condensation, having been hot but lunch had since ended. Had he been looking for you all that time?

There’s also a note on it. Grabbing it, you flip it over to read it.

You need to eat and maintain a good sleep schedule to remain at the top.

That’s all it says, but that’s all you need. The paper can wait and you basically know all the material by heart already. A break couldn’t hurt.

—

“A hundred and two. Suck my dick, Wayne!” You grin, slapping your test down in front of him before he can pack his things up. He looks at the paper and then at you. His eyes flicker to the extra credit questions he didn’t have time to finish and it only makes you smile harder.

“(L/n),” He greets with faux enthusiasm. His eyes flicker across your body in one motion that makes it look as if he is looking down at the paper again. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He’s reluctant to show you his score but you had seen the giant red 98 from three seats behind him.

“Just let me know if you need a tutor,” Taking the paper back you wiggle it in his face one last time before leaving him alone and you hear him scoff as you walk off to your next class.

It’s mid-February now and while California doesn’t get as cold as the more Northern states, it is a little chilly especially now that it’s started to rain.

There’s not much wind, surprisingly enough, so you’re able to keep your umbrella stable as you wait for the campus bus to arrive. While you’re waiting, listening to some music and enjoying the clouds as they roll by, Wayne walks over. He doesn’t say anything, but he stands next to you.

His hood is wet and he doesn’t have an umbrella, but he’s far from affected by it. You guess Gotham is normally colder than SanFran, plus you heard it rains a lot there. Actual acid rain. But you doubt that.

“If this is you asking for me to tutor you…” He glares at you and then rolls his eyes.

“I’m the last person on this campus in need of a tutor.” He snips, his posture getting a little straighter as he speaks.

“And the only person who needs an umbrella.” You chide. He doesn’t argue that fact and you look down the road. The bus isn’t even in sight, and he’ll probably catch a cold if he doesn’t get dry soon. But if he’s sick he can’t do well— no, you need him at his best. Winning because your opponent cannot put their best foot forward isn’t winning.

That’s probably why he’d given you the food.

Internally, you sigh and step closer to him. Just enough that the both of you are covered by the umbrella.

“Thanks,” He mutters, pulling his wet hood down. The red Stanford hoodie is absolutely drenched but it’ll dry soon. Hopefully faster than the cold bus. His hair is a little wet, too. You never noticed the curl to his hair before. It looks nice. You hum and scroll on your phone with your free hand.

“By the way,” He starts after five minutes of silence between the two of you. “I got a hundred on Professor Guetta’s exam.” The two of you have that professor, but not at the same time. Gritting your teeth, you have half a mind to move your umbrella but decide against it.

“Don’t let it go to your ego, Wayne.” You’d gotten a 98, never mind the fact that you overslept and missed a good ten minutes and never got to finish the exam.

“Never, (L/n).” He hums as the bus finally pulls up.

Shutting the umbrella, you all but push past him to get inside and away from him. Never mind the fact that you can hear him snickering quietly.

—

“99.” Wayne shows you his paper before you can even stand up. You stare at the paper and sigh. The two of you had been having this feud for two years now. One might think that as juniors in college, you’d give it a rest, maybe finally relax and actually put this… academic one-upping a rest. And you almost did.

But going into junior year you learned who your roommate was. Somehow, by some stupid chance, Wayne had managed to be your roommate until senior year. And sure, you could ask to be transferred to a different room but it’s about the principal. If you ask to be moved then he won. And he wasn’t about to win against you— at anything. Which is why you always wake up at five in the morning. Thirty minutes before he does. It used to be later in the day, but he started waking up earlier just to spite you.

And you’re too prideful to let that happen.

“Same,” Showing him your paper, he grabs it and flips through both of them. You watch, trying to find the question the two of you had gotten wrong. Apparently, it was the same question. It makes you feel a little better, knowing it was probably an advanced question meant to trick students.

He hands you the test back and you stand up.

“Won’t happen again, though.” You say as you slip the paper into your bag. He watches and cringes— don’t you have a folder for fucks sake?

“Because I’ll get better marks than you, yes.” He adds and you suck your teeth, looking up at him.

“Just worry about making sure your pretty face doesn’t get wrinkles, Wayne.” You tease and catch up to Frankie and Jaime at the door. They actually still lived on the same floor as the two of you, so you hung out whenever you weren’t studying. Which, admittedly, was less these days. Sometime during finals freshman year, you’d overworked yourself to the point of almost developing hypertension.

Frankie greets you first, offering you one of the donuts he’d stolen from his job. Jaime waves, his mouth too filled with his own donut to say anything.

“Some of us are heading to that secret tunnel under the south side of campus,” Frankie explains as the three of you walk to the courtyard for your hour-long gap. Wayne has a class, though. So he doesn’t join— not that he ever would, but sometimes Jaime offers. “Caddie, that Kappa Alpha Theta girl who’s majoring in political science—“

“Your ex-girlfriend,” You add and he huffs.

“That too. She managed to get access to that tunnel and is planning a party. Booze provided. Friday night.”

“I dunno,” You frown, using your jacket as a blanket to lay your head on. “I got a pretty shit grade for the last test in Jenkins class and I gotta study.” The two sigh loudly and you roll your eyes.

“You gotta study every single day!” Frankie reminds you, holding his phone above your face so you can see Caddie’s Instagram story. “One little party won’t hurt.” Looking at Jaime, you see

him pleading and let out a grumbled “Fine.” that the boys cheered at.

“What did you get anyway?” Jaime asks once they stop cheering.

“Lemme guess,” Frankie grins. “You finally got a 60?” You’d actually kill yourself.

“No,” Rolling your eyes, you stare at a cloud that’s shaped oddly like a dog shitting. “I got a 90.”

“I fucking hate you.”

—

Friday rolls around and Frankie all but breaks your door down as you’re getting some last-minute work done. Nothing major, just some homework you’d been putting off and finally got to it with your downtime.

“Does your incessant knocking ever work?” Wayne asks when he opens the door after two minutes of the knocking. He doesn’t say anything but it reminds him of his brothers. He’d been doing the same, but you recognized his work as some work you’d completed the week prior. What a slacker.

“Not really,” He laughs, shuts your notebook, and tosses it to your bed. “Let’s go! Jaime has the car.”

“You’re going to that party in the run-down tunnel?” Wayne raises an eyebrow as you rise from your chair, twisting your back to get out any cracks. He’d noticed your outfit from your normal loungewear but didn’t think anything of it. “Yeah, wanna come?” Frankie grins and checks the time. “We got time to wait for you, if you want.” While you hope he doesn’t, you sort of want him to. Maybe it’s so you both will lose time that could’ve been spent doing work, maybe it’s so you can have someone you know won’t do anything stupid at the party there. Maybe you just enjoy being around him. But Wayne looks between the two of you before he rolls his eyes and gets off the bed.

“I’ll be ready in five.”

And he was.

The theme was Rave in a Cave, or whatever that meant. So you were inclined to wear neon clothes or something flashy. But you didn’t have anything of the sort. As such, a pair of shorts and a sweater will do. Wayne opts for a white T-shirt and black pants.

“I won’t drink,” You offer as the four of you get into Frankie’s car. “You three can.”

“I don’t partake in drinking,” Wayne adds as he puts on his seatbelt making you feel compelled to put yours on as well. “Especially in these settings.” He almost physically turns his nose up at the idea of drinking booze provided by people he doesn’t know, let alone trust.

“Respect that, totally,” Frankie pulls out of his parking spot while Jaime plays some music on the speakers. He glances at the two of you but you’re busy on your phone and Wayne is making note of where the car goes to notice. Jaime smacks his arm and makes a motion that makes Frankie laugh.

It’s not a long drive to the tunnel— but it does take a minute to find parking.

“Why don’t you drink, if I might ask?” Wayne asks as the two of you trail behind Frankie and Jaime. They’re recording some videos and taking pictures that they’ll occasionally make the two of you join in.

“I hate the taste,” You shrug. “And addiction isn’t something I’d want to fall into. You?” He moves to the side as a couple runs down the pavement wearing bright clothes and clearly already tipsy.

“I’d prefer to be sober when I’m away from home.” He returns to his spot and his eyes flicker to the entrance of the tunnel. “So my actions aren’t due to an inebriated state of mind.” Humming, the four of you are allowed inside and there are a lot of people.

Half of the student body must be inside the tunnel. It stretches for a couple of miles but gets blocked off by a wire gate. The walls are chipped and almost rotten looking with graffiti and posters messily placed along. There are color lights strung up along the walls and if they went out the place would be pitch black.

The DJ is one of the music majors, you recognize him from one of the random people who followed you when your high school posted the school you were going to. He’s playing some loud ass music with extra bass that makes you cringe.

“Here,” Wayne hands you one of the glow sticks turned into a necklace and you thank him, slipping it over your neck. He has one but it’s around his wrist instead. Frankie and Jaime went separate ways almost immediately— they asked first and you just nodded and went to a corner.

How the fuck do you even act at parties.

“Hi-hi!” A woman stands in front of you, dressed for a rave with a lot of Kandi bracelets running up her arms and those weed glasses. She’s in one of your classes.

“Hey,” You offer a smile.

“Saw you’re nervous! Rave virginity!!!” She laughs and looks along her arms. “Here, this is called a Kandi trade— but you don’t give anything.” She starts to pull off a large red and black cuff and motions for you to grab her hand. Against your better judgment, you do and she does some hand movements before she transfers the cuff to your arm.

“That’s cool! Thank you!” She laughs again and nods, leaving you in the corner to do more trades.

An hour or so passes and Wayne spots you in the sea of people. He sees you have a lot more jewelry on than when you first came and you’re enjoying yourself. Dancing and singing along to the music, jumping with others, and such. But he’s been keeping a close eye and knows you haven’t drunk anything. Not even the water bottle that was offered to you some time ago.

He feels at ease with that and his eyes linger on Jaime. He’s impressed that… bug is keeping cool at the party and he sees Frankie laughing with some of the chem majors by the DJ, requesting songs.

He’s been stuck to a wall for the entirety of the party, he didn’t even want to go in the first place. But he figured it would be best if he did, something in him told him that. And he understood why when he saw your face go from joyful to sour.

His eyes scan the people around you and he sees something yelling at you. Their face was red from the alcohol and the anger they were feeling. He pushes himself from the wall and makes his way over to you.

“Is there an issue?” He asks you, completely ignoring the loud guy. You give him a thank you look and shake your head.

“Just some drunk idiot thinking I’m trying to hit on their date,” You snicker and he raises an eyebrow, seeing the drunk person now tongue-deep with their date. He looks away, almost embarrassed for them.

“How fun,” He smiles and you laugh. He thinks that’s the first time he’s actually made you laugh from something that wasn’t you beating him.

“Wayne, you dance?” You ask as the song changes to something made to move to. He shakes his head, unable to look away from you. “Me neither! But we should!”

He agrees, forgetting his home training and dancing along with you. He’s sure at some point someone will hurt their ankle from the jumping and the very uncoordinated movements but he doesn’t care. Anything to relish in this moment.

At some point the song changes and you're out of breath, dragging him to a wall to sit against. He wants to protest but he sees you’re sitting on fabric and not the ground directly and joins you. The little area is tucked into a divet in the wall, your backs to a cold, metal service door. So no one could step on either one of you.

“Hey, Wayne.” You call and he looks over. His eyes trace over your face as you’re not smiling as hard but the excitement in your eyes hasn’t died out. Your forehead is covered in sweat and he has to stop himself from wiping it off. “I didn’t know you’d be such a nice party partner. We outta do this more often.” You look at him and admire his eyes. In truth, you’ve never given him a real look before.

Sure, you know his eyes are green. But you never noticed how green, or how in this light you can see the rings of blue in them. Or how there’s tiny little white scars on the exposed skin of his neck. Or the scar above his right eyebrow.

“We should,” He agrees and wow, you’re really close. You can feel his breath ghost over your lips. Tentatively, you look down at his lips as he licks them then back to his eyes.

“Should we?” You grin, swiping your tongue over your lips.

“Yes.” He nods and closes the gap. His hand holds your neck and you hold his collar. At that moment, as the butterflies are alive and well in your stomach, as his lips press to yours, as his grip pulls you tighter, you’re so glad he agreed to go to the party. Even happier than this action— that kissing him was a completely sober choice made by the both of you.

This will either be the best or the worst decision of your life.

—

A year after the party, Damian enters the dorm after finishing up his last class for the day. You’d been on your phone, checking up on your internship application before setting it down when he walked in.

“I got a hundred on the fake final.” You grin, reaching over to pull him down onto your bed. He lets you, stopping his fall by planting his hands on either side of your head. He shifts his legs so one is between yours and the other is locking your left leg between his. You’ll never understand his upper body strength, but you’d definitely never complain about it.

“Me too.” He smirks and kisses the corner of your mouth. You frown and grab his face, pulling him in for a proper kiss. He adjusts himself on the bed by moving one arm to slide underneath you and you love that feeling. Your hands slide from the sides of his face to his shoulders, pinching the fabric to try and get it off.

“Lock the door next time,” Jaime groans as he walks into the room. Damian pulls away and glares at him. You roll your head to see him and not very discreetly try and wave him away. “Aye, I’m just here for your charger. Mine broke and you’re rich.” He holds his hands up, showing Damian’s charger and the two of you watch him leave.

“I’m getting the higher score on the final,” You tell him once the door shuts. He looks at you, an eyebrow raised before he gets up to lock the door.

“Doubtful,” He grins, returning to his previous spot on top of you. His eyes scanned all over your face and his hand traced along your hairline. “I’m still on top.” His eyes flicker to yours and you scoff.

“Pretty sure you bottom,”

“Just this once.”

#x male reader #x reader #damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you

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