#like the amount of people I know who locked in with a college athlete freshman year

[champagnemoon]

Hot community take but I don’t understand why BW are so concerned with who D1 athletes date like if it’s the WAG lifestyle dream you’re better off going for the men with contracts signed lmaooo

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part I

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.7k Warnings: dubious consent (because of alcohol), just copious amounts of sex, oral, squirting, 69ing, college shenanigans, obnoxious frat boys, terrible fashion choices A/N: At long last, here we have the beginning. Massive thanks to @pleasantanathema and @whats-her-quirk​ who have been cheering for me since I told them I wanted to right a “little college AU” for a “little collab” June and I have been planning for a while. Also, I don’t know where I’d be without Lauren’s fraternity knowledge, so extra thanks for that, babe. I hope everyone has as much fun with this fic as I did.

God, you hate frat boys. 

Their sense of entitlement, all their fucking house pride. Brother this, brother that. It's annoying. Add in the factors of being an athlete on top of it, and they're downright insufferable. 

So it makes absolutely no sense that you're at a fucking Pi Kappa Alpha party. 

Your friend, Hitch, dragged you here (naturally), and it wasn't like you could really object considering she's the only real friend you have on campus. You study together and switch off between dorms to watch movies and bitch about classes. She's the complete opposite of you in many different ways, but you soul-bonded over biology and that was that. 

Unfortunately, Hitch decided she would leave you to your own devices almost immediately, opting to skip over to a game of beer pong and flirt with a boy in her statistics class. You have no idea why considering he has a fucking bowl cut, but she's been talking about him for weeks now. 

The party is filled with loud music and too many people with red solo cups. There's no way they're all of age, so you're already paranoid that the cops are gonna raid the place, but there's nothing you can do besides leave. It's a tempting thought. 

Before you can, though, there's an uproar in the kitchen, and curiosity gets the best of you. Moving from your place against the wall, you make your way over to peek in and see what's going on. A large group of frat boys, what you think are sorority girls, and whoever else wants to join are raising their cups to cheer. An especially loud voice rings out above the rest, "One win down, eleven more to go!" 

Claps and supportive shouts are nearly deafening. 

"I think we can do it! Do you think we can do it?" 

More cheers, more hollers. 

"Let's hear it for UC lacrosse!" 

You have to cover your ears this time. Should have known this party was to celebrate the win earlier that day. 

When the crowd parts, you see the ringleader, Erwin Smith who is very well-known on campus for three reasons: he will talk your ear off about history if given the chance, he's irritatingly gorgeous, and he will fuck any pretty girl with a pulse. 

Again—you fucking hate frat boys. 

To ease your bad mood and possibly encourage you to have some semblance of a good time, you shuffle further into the kitchen to grab a drink. You feel a little exposed, not dressed like many of the other girls who are either in rompers or the classic sorority chick outfit (giant college shirts that cover their shorts). You are in a crop top, torn shorts, and a floral cardigan. Not your best outfit, not your worst. 

There's no way you're touching any of the pre-poured cups or the jungle juice, opting for an unopened can of mediocre beer. 

You feel someone approach you from behind, glance over your shoulder to see nothing but a broad chest covered by a fucking hawaiian shirt. 

Craning your neck, you're met with another familiar face, one Mike Zacharias known as 1) Erwin's best friend, 2) one of the tallest guys on campus, and 3) the best lacrosse player on the team. 

You haven't spoken a single word to him but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, and chanting a low, "Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun!" 

"Are you god damn joking me?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

"Hell no!" 

"I have shotgunned a beer literally once in my life, and at least half of it ended up on my shirt."

"That's alright," Mike's smile shrinks to a smirk. "We're all about getting chicks wet in Pike." 

Face falling, you scoff, "Yeah, okay, I'm leaving." 

You sidestep him, cracking open the beer, but he follows close behind you. It makes a little bit of fear spike in your gut—everyone knows the horror stories that accompany many fraternities—but you're mostly just annoyed. 

"Hey, what's your name again?"

Again. As if you've actually formally met before.

"Why do you care?" 

Mike does not hesitate when he answers, "'Cause you look like you're having a shit time here, and I'd like to change that."

You roll your eyes, let your head loll over your shoulder to look at him again. If you're being honest with yourself, he's kind of extremely hot with his undercut and flippy hair, not to mention the stubble that's grown out just enough to make you think thoughts for a split second.  

"A noble cause," you quip. "Truly." 

He chuckles, watching too closely as you take a sip of your beer. 

"So? Name?"

After too big of a swallow, you answer him, and light green eyes brighten a little. 

"Oh, you're Hitch's friend, right?" 

Of course that would be your only identifier on campus. Hitch is insanely pretty and very outgoing. It makes sense that people just know you as her tag-along. 

It doesn't stop you from feeling slightly offended, though. 

"Yeah, and you're Erwin's friend, right?" 

"Among other things," he snorts. "Mike Zacharias." He holds out a massive hand that you eye before taking, figure you shouldn't be too much of a bitch and make a bad impression on the most highly regarded frat at the college.  

"I know who you are, dude. Not many people don't."

"Aw, flatterer." 

That grin is back on his face, lopsided and far too charming, and you definitely need to get away from him before you down a couple more beers. 

"Freshman?" He pries, and somehow you wind up at the staircase, leaning against the wall and praying he'll just stand beside you instead of caging you in. 

He does, and you let out a breath of relief. 

"Sophomore."

His eyebrows shoot up for a second. "Fuck, you've made it through a whole year flying under my radar?" 

You give him a wholly unimpressed look. "Wow, you really know what to say to a girl, don't you?" 

"That came off as shitty, sorry. I just mean, like, you're super cute. Feel like I would have committed you to memory if I'd seen you."

Your face heats up probably more than it ever has in your life, but you still snap, "We haven't had a single class together, I never go to your games, and this is the first Pike party I've been to."

Mike nods. "Ah, that explains it. Just haven't given anyone a chance to notice you." 

"Sure, let's go with that."

Another several sips. You hiss at the taste, and Mike laughs. 

"Can't handle beer?"

"Can't handle shitty beer."

"Ouch. Want me to grab you something else?"

He really doesn't seem to understand the warnings all girls have heard over the years. That, or he just doesn't care. You don't know him well enough to pass that kind of judgement.

"Uh, no. I always make my own drinks at parties."

"That's understandable." Except it isn't. He doesn't have a clue. 

"Well, you can go grab one, and I'll just finish this one for you. Don't want it to go to waste."

It's your turn to smirk now. "That desperate to swap spit, Zacharias?" 

"Like this?" He laughs through his nose. "Nah. But I can think of other ways."

"We've been talking for literally two minutes."

"I'm perfectly capable of making decisions in two minutes."

"Not any good ones obviously."

Tilting his head, Mike thinks out loud, "Can't tell if that's an insult aimed at me or yourself." 

"Take it however you want. I don't really care."

His eyes glint with amusement. There's no way you're escaping this any time soon. 

Long, thick fingers close around the top of your can, and he gently tugs it out of your hand then keeps those eyes locked with yours as he takes a sip. 

"Gross." You try to keep the teasing tone from your voice. 

"Just go get another drink."

You actually listen, mostly to get away from him but also because you could go for something easier to stomach. 

A game of King's Cup is going on in the kitchen, a five obviously being drawn because everyone suddenly pantomimes holding a steering wheel. It's surprisingly fun to watch, so you post up next to the counter after mixing orange and pineapple juice with rum. 

"Four's whores!"

"Categories! Different beers!"

"Seven heaven!" 

"Ayyy, waterfall!" 

You shake your head as everyone drinks for way too long. Some people are already swaying in circles where they're sitting. Others are simply red-faced. 

"Wanna play?"

"Jesus! You came outta nowhere."

Mike looks too smug for your liking, but doesn't say anything, just crushes the empty can in his hand and throws it into the trashcan next to the back door, all gooseneck and perfect arch. 

"Let me guess—you're reigning champ at beer pong."

"Nah," he waves you off. "That's Erwin and Nile. King's Cup however…"

"King's Cup isn't even a competition. It's just flipping cards and getting fucked up." 

"Well, yeah, but it's still fun."

You let out a heavy sigh, eyes still trained on the game going on, then concede, "Once this one is over, I'll play. Just to get you off my back." And because he won't have the chance to talk to you for the duration of the game. 

"Excellent."

You manage to finish your drink by the time the round ends, have to rush to make another as Mike strides over to the table and steals the two seats that have been vacated. They're right across from each other. You don't know if you'd prefer that or just sitting next to him so he can't stare at you.

Sauntering over, you plop down and place your drink in front of you. The guy to your right is quick to introduce himself with hooded eyes and a self-assured smile. You give him basically the same treatment that you've been giving Mike, making him pout and turn away as a freckled girl deals out the cards. 

It's fast paced, and you find yourself drinking more than you'd planned. Mike picks you as his buddy (of course), and the guy next to you makes everyone drink for nearly thirty seconds straight when he pulls an ace. 

Still, you find yourself laughing as people scream and curse. You catch eyes with Mike often, and as you finish your second drink, he begins looking very attractive. More attractive than before. So attractive that you allow him to pour your third cup. 

"If you roofied this, I'm gonna be real upset with you," you tell him just before taking a sip. He added more rum than you did, but that doesn't surprise you. 

"Hey, one of Pike's virtues is being a gentleman."

As soon as he says it, about seven people around the table shout, "Pi Kappa Alpha!" like some kind of sports team, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 

You're drunk after this game. And, then you make another drink and get plastered. Meandering around the rest of the party, bodies begin to blur together, the music fades in and out, and you barely know what you're saying to Mike anymore as he follows you close behind in the same state. For every drink you've had, he's had two, and now he's walking around with a cup full of jungle juice nodding at his brothers, smiling at all the girls who look at him.

His room is downstairs unlike most of the others, right at the end of the hallway. It makes it far too easy to end up inside, but as soon as the door closes and his huge hands find your hips, your world disappears entirely. 

*

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a nauseating pounding in your head. The second is a very large body behind you. 

God dammit, you think, trying to recall the events of the night before. 

Pi Kappa Alpha. Hitch left you, so you hung out with… Mike Zacharias? From the lacrosse team? 

Frowning, you try to look over your shoulder, but all you can really see is a head of hair. However, you can feel the coarseness of his beard against your bare shoulder, and that's enough to solidify that it is indeed Mike behind you. 

Shifting some brings more of your physical state to your attention—your naked chest under the blanket, the way your legs are pressed together, your pussy between your thighs… swollen? Jesus, what did he do to you last night? You can also feel something dry and crusty on your stomach which is both disgusting and relieving. At least he had enough sense to pull out. 

Luckily, his arm isn't wrapped around you which makes it much easier to sit up on your elbow. It takes you a while to locate your clothes around the room from where you are, and even then, all you can find are your shorts, shoes, and bra. You peer around, trying not to groan at the headache threatening to make you black the fuck out all over again, but that pounding as well as the nauseating churning of your stomach is making it difficult. 

You slide out of the bed, basically crawling to the little pile of discarded clothes. As you fumble with fastening your bra, you glance around one more time in search of your shirt and cardigan, but it’s no use. What you do see, however, is the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt  Mike had been wearing the night before, and well… You’d rather not leave the Pike house topless, so…

Snatching it off the floor, you slip your arms through the giant sleeves and somehow manage to button up about half of it. Then, you’re flying out the door, desperate to be in your own dorm, curled over your own toilet, in your own clothes. 

Oh, thank god his room wasn’t upstairs, you praise, trying to remember the way to the front door. There are numerous bodies and tipped over cups to navigate through, and you cringe at the various odors that assault your senses. 

You see the door from across the room, so close and getting closer as you try not to trip over anything, but as you pass the kitchen, you hear a smooth, familiar voice greet, “Good morning,” in a smug way. 

Erwin is leaning against a counter, smirking over a steaming cup of coffee. He’s wearing only sweatpants, his hair is a little mussed, and for a split second, you understand why he pulls so many girls. 

Still, you roll your eyes and continue moving—a classic DNE situation, but the frat boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead calling out, “Nice shirt!”

“Fuck off, Smith,” is the only thing you utter before leaving, slamming the door behind you. 

*

Mike easily catches the frisbee that spins directly at his face then quickly throws it back to try and catch Nile off guard. It works, and the brunet curses and has to go running after the flying disc. 

A few girls watching from the nearby fountain clap and yell his name, wriggling fingers in a wave as if he can actually see that far away. Mike gives one wave of his own hand then turns back to the grass where Nile is jogging back to his place.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole!” He spits.

Mike shrugs his shoulders, yells back, “Get better at frisbee, and you won’t have this problem!”

Nile throws the plastic so hard that it flies off toward the fountain, making all those girls scream and dive for cover. 

“Yeah, I’m not getting that,” Mike shakes his head. Nile drags his fingers down his angular face before setting off on yet another trek, apologizing profusely then standing around to flirt like usual.

Blowing hair out of his face, Mike considers joining his brother, but before he can, he sees a familiar figure turning on the sidewalk, about to pass the fountain and head toward Hartley Hall. 

His feet are moving before he really registers it, glad his long legs can carry him quickly even at a walk. Mike calls out when he’s a couple yards away, and you turn to him, eyes growing wide before you start to move faster. 

He can just barely make out the words, “Nope. Not doing this,” and chuckles, catching up the rest of the way.

“Hey, chill, I just wanna talk.”

You turn to look at him, head tilted up, squinting against the sun, and Mike has never been more thankful for his height because you look so god damn cute all small and irritated with him. 

“What is there to talk about? I don’t even remember anything.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, lacing fingers together behind his head. “Shame.”

“Whatever.”

Mike tries and fails to hide a snort, nods at Nile as you both pass him and the gaggle of girls surrounding him. Mike has no doubt his friend will get at least one phone number out of it, if not all of them. 

“Did you at least have a good time before you blacked out?” He ventures.

You shrug your shoulders, hitch your backpack up a little higher. “Maybe. But, if I was just around you the whole time, probably not.”

“Aw, come on! What did I ever do to you?”

“You need a list?”

Mike nods. “Would probably help.”

“For brevity's sake, I’ll just say that you started the night trying to get a literal stranger to shotgun a beer and ended the night fucking said stranger and… Not holding back, apparently.” Mike frowns, about to ask what you mean by that, but you elaborate before he can. Voice dropping, you question, “Do you have any idea how fucking sore I’ve been for the last few days? What the fuck do you even have hidden in those stupid shorts?”

“I’d be happy to show you again.” He grins sideways, and when you shoot him a venomous look, he figures it’s time to change the subject. “Anyway, I may have done that and more, but you’re the thief.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike tries to sound nonchalant as he accuses, “Stole my shirt and everything." Honestly, he's a little upset that he didn’t actually get to see you wearing it. 

“I—”

“That’s my favorite shirt, you know?”

You laugh. Finally. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“That shirt is fucking heinous, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t burn it.”

“Does that mean I can have it back?”

You make a little noise in your throat, something between a grumble and a growl, but you check your phone and tell him, “Fine. My next class isn’t for another couple of hours, so just…Follow me.”

It takes immense effort to not skip to your dorm like a little kid, but Mike is excited. He’s not gonna try anything weird, but just seeing your space? He’ll be able to get a better feel for you. So far, all he knows is that you live and breathe sarcasm and can’t handle your liquor well. It’s enough to get him a little more than interested, but it’s not enough to go off of.

The two of you gain a few looks as you make your way through the shared study space of the dormitory, heads turning, eyebrows raising in recognition. No one should be all that surprised; it’s not like Mike and Erwin haven’t frequented a lot of these rooms. 

You lead him down a hallway, and Mike looks at all the little dry-erase intro boards hanging outside of every door. He’s a little surprised to see that the one by yours isn’t blank. Your name is written in bubble letters, surrounded by little hearts, and when you catch him looking at it, you’re quick to tell him, “Hitch.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He follows you inside, staying by the door to not invade too much of your space, but he doesn’t even try to be subtle as he looks around the small room. Pennant for the college hung up over a cork bulletin board that’s a mess of photos and sticky notes. Cluttered desk with just enough of it cleared to fit a laptop. Tiny succulents on the window sill. Double bed covered in a quilt. And there, in the open closet, Mike catches sight of his shirt—pastel pink and littered with palm trees. 

After dropping your backpack on your bed, you step over to the hanging clothes and grab it, muttering, “Ridiculous,” as you hand it over.

Mike laughs as he slings it over his shoulder. “You know what’ll make you hate it even more?” You quirk an eyebrow, probably doubting that anything could, but your entire face falls when he informs you, “I have matching shorts to go with it.”

“No you do not.”

“Definitely do.”

“That should be a crime. You should be arrested.”

He chuckles, has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but something catches his eye—a bookshelf tucked away in the corner by your bed overflowing with novels and knick-knacks. Mike sees a particularly thick paperback, recognizing the black background and small desert picture on the spine.

“Bro!” He walks over, plants a hand in the middle of your mattress, and reaches for it. “Is this fucking Dune?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“This is, like, my favorite book, dude.”

“Seriously?” You sound just as disbelieving as you do disinterested. 

Mike begins flipping through it, scanning over highlighted passages as he nods. “I have the whole series back home, but I only brought this one and Messiah with me to college.”

He straightens up but keeps a knee on the edge of the bed, and you plop down to sit on it, watching him closely as he continues to look over the notes scribbled in the margins. 

“I had to read it in high school," you tell him. "Then my cousin gave me a lot of the books after I talked with him about it one time. I haven’t gotten around to reading them, though.”

“You really should,” Mike urges. “I mean, I know you probably have a shit ton of reading for classes, but if you ever get the chance, you should at least read the next two.”

“You some kind of closet nerd, Zacharias?”

“Kinda,” he admits, putting the book back on the shelf only to grab a worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring. “I mean, Erwin and a few others are well aware, but I don’t really broadcast it.”

“Not good for the cool guy image?” 

“Nah, people are just more interested in other things,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the tiny print.

“Mike Zacharias,” his gaze flicks to you as you laugh quietly. “Lacrosse god and big fucking geek.”

He closes the book and uses it to lightly hit you on the top of the head with it. You half-heartedly smack him right in his abs only to push against the muscle harder and ask, “Jesus Christ, what do you have under there?”

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked what I have under my clothes,” he points out, a little too satisfied. “Better watch out, or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”

You huff, but your hand is definitely still on his stomach, unmoving but warm through his shirt. Mike told himself he wouldn’t do anything weird once he got here, but you’re already on the bed and touching him, and he’d kind of really like to have this particular experience while sober, so he very slowly takes your wrist and moves it away. 

It makes you look up at him, a question dancing in your eyes as your lips part. Mike makes sure his own stare conveys everything he’s thinking, wishes he could just transplant his thoughts into your brain so that he can put you a little more at ease around him. 

You’re onto him, though, tugging your hand from his grip and blinking a few times. He figures you’re about to point to the door and tell him to take his fucking Hawaiian shirt and leave. 

Instead, you pull on the fabric covering his ribs so that he loses his balance and has to catch himself before crashing into you. It puts his face level with yours, and you take the opportunity to kiss him—hard, desperate, and a little confused judging by the way you’re frowning. 

Mike grunts, holding himself up with the arm on the side of your hips then uses the other to slide under the thigh closest to him and pull you further onto the bed. He’s straddling you in no time, up on his knees so that he doesn’t crush you. 

Hearing the sound of shoes hitting the ground, he tugs his shirt off over his head, and then he’s curling over you again. Your mouths grow slick with spit. He slides his tongue past your lips, and you arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Mike pushes you back down so that he can strip you down to your bra and panties then takes the time to rid himself of his shoes and shorts.

“Oh, fuck,” he hears you breathe, and when he glances up at you, he finds you staring at what he knows is an intimidatingly large bulge under his boxer briefs. “It makes sense now—the soreness.”

Mike chuckles, slots his forearms on either side of your head and mutters, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

You lick his lips and he bites yours, bodies clashing together as he grinds himself against your covered pussy. Eventually Mike is able to snake a hand down your body, making sure to brush over your ribs so that you squirm beneath him. Fuck, he already loves the way you squirm. And, when he moves your panties to the side and teases your little hole, already wet just from making out, Mike discovers that he loves the way you moan too. 

He’s slow as he pushes a finger in, groaning when you clench around it. Pumping it in and out, he gently works you open and wonders if he was courteous enough to do this the other night. He hopes he was. 

You spread your legs for him, start bucking into his hand, especially when he hits that special spot inside you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fu—” You grab his face, bringing it close to yours again so that you can muffle curses against his lips. 

When Mike adds a second finger, your jaw drops, and you start to tremble. 

“Too much?” He asks.

You shake your head, stutter a breathy, “N-no. Just—ah—slow. Go slow.”

He moves to suck on your neck, promising, “I will.”

Mike waits until you’re dripping into his palm and spread about as widely as you can be underneath him. Then, and only then does he shimmy out of his underwear and question, “Condom?”

“Bookshelf,” you huff. “In the jewelry box.”

When he opens it, a little ballerina spins, and Mike has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That’s twisted.”

“Shut up.”

He grabs one of the gold packages and tears it open, then rolls the latex over his cock and discards the wrapper somewhere. 

Mike only gives you his tip first, sits right inside your entrance so that you can squeeze him and get used to the feeling before he pushes in any more. You barely shift your hips back and forth, like an experiment. It’s just enough for Mike to see slick coating the end of the condom, and he nearly starts drooling.

He presses in a little more, appreciates the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, then adds one more inch.

“Jesus Christ.” Your breaths are coming in short gasps, words slurring together. He’s not even halfway in, and you’re already fucked out. 

Your cunt is spasming around him, and Mike tries to get you to relax more by lightly rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb. 

You leak around him, pussy slowly but surely opening up a little more so that he can slide in further. He gives a few shallow thrusts that make you whine, then reaches up to grab one of your pillows which only sends him deeper. 

“God dam—”

Mike lifts you and shoves the pillow under your hips, smiles in a way he’s pretty sure you hate, then jokes, “Better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“In...sufferable…” The annoyed tone is lost when you cry out. Mike buries himself as far as he can without hurting you. He isn’t quite balls deep, but you feel so fucking good that he doesn’t even mind. 

Starting a steady rhythm that has every upthrust dragging over your g-spot, Mike watches through foggy eyes as your mouth opens and closes, chest rising with stuttering breaths before you exhale and moan. He dips his thumb between your folds to gather a little bit of slick and return it to your clit. The circular motion makes you arch again, and Mike abandons the little bud for just a moment so that he can unclasp your bra and pull it off. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts almost does him in, but he holds back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.

You’re just clamping around him so perfectly, pussy drooling and creaming on his cock, and Mike is not a quickshot, but for you—

He pulls out all at once, flips you so that you’re on hands and knees, then spreads you open to lick into you from behind. 

“Holy—” 

Mike’s cock is throbbing where it bobs against his stomach, but he can ignore it for the most part, focused on eating you out, sucking at your messy lips then dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole. He moves his face back and forth, wants to leave his mark on you in the form of stubble burn between your legs. 

“Mike, Mike, fuck, please.”

He’s positive you can’t actually hear him when he teases, “Please what?” right into the crevice of your ass. 

You growl, push against him, and swallow enough pride to beg, “Please fuck me.”

Biting his lip, Mike straightens up enough to watch his fingers disappear into your pussy. One, two, then a third that makes your messy entrance stretch for him. He lowers his face again, feather light licks around your sensitive hole, and when he twists his wrist so that he can tap on your spot, you come immediately. 

A mixture of slick and squirt drips from your cunt and soaks into your quilt. Mike pushes more out as he continues to finger fuck you, humming at the way your arms give out and you fall against the mattress. 

This is the perfect position for him. He replaces his wet fingers with his cock and ruts into you quickly, chasing after his own impending orgasm. Pretty little whimpers fall from your lips, fuck drunk as you babble, “Oh, god, Mike, Mike, fuck…”

He’s gripping your hips too tightly, pulling you back against him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally comes with a shudder and a low groan. 

Mike pants for a few seconds, then leans down to press a few kisses to your spine, but instead of the usual happy sighs he gets from most girls, you just roll your shoulders and mutter, “Stop that.”

He does, then pulls out, takes a second to stare at your pussy—worked open from his size and still dripping. It would make a very pretty picture, but Mike wouldn’t dare try that with you. 

You roll onto your back, a huff of air leaving your lungs as you scrub a hand over your face then tilt your head to him. It looks like you have something to say, but you just chew on your bottom lip, eyes moving from Mike to the door.

And, he can take a hint. You don’t have to say it. 

With a self-deprecating snort, he pulls the condom off, tying it then tossing it into the trashcan by your bed. 

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “Let me just…” Mike tugs his clothes back on, kindly tosses you your top so that you can cover yourself like you obviously want to. 

He makes sure to grab the Hawaiian shirt that brought him here in the first place, tossing it over his shoulder then striding to the door. 

Chancing one more glance at you, you force a smile and try to pad his bruised ego. “Don’t worry, it was good. You were good. It’s just not gonna happen again.”

Mike fights a smirk, raises a hand in a wave, then steps out.

Not gonna happen again, he chuckles to himself. Yeah, right.

*

You don't understand how this keeps happening, how you keep ending up in bed with Mike fucking Zacharias. 

This time you had gone to the disgusting bar right off campus, got one whole drink in your system before the familiar trio walked in. They were all in khakis and pastels—Erwin in blue, Nile in yellow, Mike in pink. Again. 

You actually slammed your head down on the bartop because despite how basic he looked in his light polo, Mike was still hot. 

Is still hot. 

Back at the Pi Kappa Alpha house, you're a mess of limbs on his bed. You take immense pleasure in tugging his shirt off, and once his arms are free again, he's lifting the hem of your little skirt and mouthing over your thong. 

You're more than tipsy after a couple more drinks but nowhere near as drunk as you were the first night. It hadn't taken much convincing from Erwin for you and Hitch to play pool with them, and when Mike had come up behind you to help you line up your shot, you knew you were a goner. 

While he's busy between your legs, you take off your shirt and bra. Green eyes flick up as soon as you toss both articles on to the floor, and without any hesitation, Mike reaches up to grope your tits. 

He's clumsy and distracted as he tongues over the warmth pooling in your underwear, squeezing plump flesh and pinching your nipple so that you whine and push your hips further into his face. 

Mike groans, just as drunk if not more so. He's messy as he kisses your thighs, nearly rips your thong when he pulls it off of you. 

His tongue feels good, too fucking good as he laves over your entrance, soothing an ache that isn't quite there anymore but definitely was a few days ago. 

"Taste so fucking good," he grumbles, slurping and sucking and making you squeeze your thighs around his head. 

"Okay," you pant. "Okay, okay." You grab him by the hair and lift his head from you, stomach flipping at the sight of the bottom half of his face absolutely covered in slick. 

God dammit, why is he so sexy? 

Your mouth waters, and the thought of possibly giving him head this time crosses your mind. You're just inebriated enough to stay relaxed, didn't drink to the point of throwing up, and he has gone down on you the last two times so... 

Lizard brain taking over, you sit up, tell him to flip over, then start making your way down his body. 

Mike grabs you before you can turn to face him, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling you down to sit on his face. 

"Fucking—I'm trying to blow you, for Christ's sake."

He moves his head just enough to tell you, "So? You can do that while I do this."

And, he's not wrong. It just means that you're gonna get distracted. 

For a while, all you can really do is control your breathing and undulate on top of him, but eventually you fall to your elbows and lick up his shaft from base to tip. 

Mike really does have a nice cock—a beautiful cock—bigger than you've ever taken in terms of both length and girth, and veiny in the perfect way. Even his balls make your pussy throb, large and round, the right just slightly bigger than the left and now dripping with saliva as you lower your mouth further and further onto his cock. 

The feeling of his tongue buried in your cunt is making you delirious, eyes rolling, muscles going slack as you gurgle around the tip hitting the back of your throat. 

Mike groans into you, his legs starting to shake, and you assume in your half aware state that he's trying to not just skull fuck you into oblivion. 

You know you're making a mess, both on his face and on his cock. The fingertips that have been holding you open shift, one of them slipping into your clenching hole, and your hips begin to move on their own volition, riding what he'll give you while moving your tongue back and forth. 

You've only taken about half of him, doubt you can take any more. He's hot and heavy in your mouth, and when you pull off to breathe, you can taste pre cum on the back of your tongue. 

It triggers something in you, makes you raise up and clumsily turn around so that you can work him inside of you. 

Mike groans a long, "Fuuuck," and immediately starts thrusting upward. 

You're lucky you're as wet as you are, but the burn that comes with getting so stretched out still makes you hiss. You brace yourself on his broad chest, feeling the dampness of sweat forming a sheen on him, and your own body starts to feel too hot. 

You had wanted to ride him to feel in control of the situation for once, but you quickly realize it's not gonna happen, Mike gripping your hips and moving you how he sees fit. 

He's raw this time, a thought that should scare you, but he feels so good even through the discomfort. Every vein and ridge hits all the sweet spots inside of you, the flared head of his cock smooth as it presses just where you need it to. 

You're squirting again—he just seems to be able to fuck it out of you. It's not the high you're looking for, but the release in pressure still feels divine. 

Mike seems to enjoy it too because he looks down at where you're connected, swears at the way you gush on his cock, then starts swiping fingers over your clit so quickly it almost hurts. 

More fluid leaks from you, and Mike breathes a low, "Come on, baby, come on, 'm gonna fuck you dry tonight." 

Hearing him talk like that—his hand rubbing over your overstimulated clit, his thick cock threatening to split you in two—causes heat to travel up your legs and down your arms until it settles in your stomach and floods you. 

You cry out, stars and tears behind your eyes as Mike keeps going, taking everything he can from you until he's laying in a huge wet spot in his bed. 

He lifts you just in time to shoot cum upward on your chest, white splattering then dripping down in strands to pool on his stomach. 

You stare down at him, mouth hanging open and find him looking up at you with the same expression. 

It's hands down the best sex you've ever had, but you're not about to tell him that. Instead, you dismount him like the fucking horse he is and stand on weak legs, actually have to lean on the bed for support. 

"Just stay the night." His voice is deep and full of gravel. It's entirely too hot. 

"Absolutely not." You shake your head, grab your shirt and his boxers then ask, "Where's the nearest bathroom?" 

"Down the hall on the right, but you don't have to sneak out the window or anything. Just use the front door if you're tryin’ to run away."

You can't help but snort. Stupid. "I'm not trying to escape, dummy. I just need to pee." 

"Oh. Right."

You slip out of the room, hoping it's late enough for everyone to be asleep, but you have no such luck as the door to the bathroom opens and fucking Erwin steps out. 

He hums, looking you over for a moment as his lips lift on one side. 

"Don't say anything," you grit through your teeth. 

He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckles, acting all innocent. "Wasn't going to."

You squint, not believing him for a second, then move around him to get to the bathroom. Before you can shut the door, you hear him mutter, "Another one bites the dust," and consider running out and strangling him.

*

"Please please please come with me to this game," Hitch begs, her hands clasped together, imploring eyes wide and doe-like. 

"No. You have plenty of other friends to go with. You don't need me there."

"But, I want you to be there. It's gonna be such a good match. Rival schools and all that."

You roll your eyes. "Hitch, in all the time you've known me, have you ever seen me give a single fuck about sports?" 

"No, but you'll finally get to see Mike and Erwin and Nile play."

"All the more reason not to go."

"Do you not like them or something? Why wouldn't you like them? Everybody likes them!" 

She doesn't know, and you don't want her to. She had been too caught up with that Marlowe kid at the party, then was kept busy playing pool with Nile to see you and Mike slip out of the bar together. 

It's the only secret you've ever wanted to keep from her. You will take it to the grave. 

"I just… I just don't, okay? I get a… Sleazy vibe from all of them."

You really don't. Not exactly. You're not a big fan of the 'fuck-every-chick-on-capus' mentality, but most college boys think like that. Only difference is these three can actually achieve it. 

Hitch crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a look you've seen on your mother's face many times, usually when she has a point to prove. 

"You know I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you come to one, so why not just get it outta the way?" 

And, there's that point. 

"Ugh." You know she's right, and you really can't put up with this all semester. "Fine, but I'm gonna bitch the entire time."

Hitch squeals and claps, bouncing where she stands. "Yes! Wouldn't have it any other way."

You dress in school colors, put your hair up so that it won't be on your neck as the sun beats down, then take Hitch's little hatchback to the field. You try to talk her into sitting toward the back of the crowd that's gathered on the bleachers, but she just pulls you to the front without acknowledging your request. 

Even with the helmets, you can easily make out who's who, mostly because of their size. Mike and Erwin are doing some kind of pregame ritual where they hit their sticks together, shout something, and chest bump. It's the most alpha thing you've ever fucking seen and makes you question why you ever thought screwing one of them was a good idea. 

To be fair, you never really did think it was a good idea. It just kind of happened. Three times. 

But, it needs to stop. 

You repeat that thought to yourself as you watch Mike sprint across the field and launch the ball into the goal several times. You repeat it as he dances around his opponents with ease, quick footwork until he can throw them off. You repeat it as he stands on the sidelines and takes his helmet off to shake out sweaty hair and squirt water into his mouth. 

And, none of it really helps. Mike is pretty incredible on the field, especially with Erwin and Nile backing him up. Everyone in the stands is screaming, yelling their names and chanting. It's a little contagious, you have to admit. You get as far as clapping but refuse to actually cheer. 

At some point, Erwin jogs over to the bleachers and waves his arms for everyone to get louder, and they sure do. Even through his helmet, you can see his sparkling white smile, and your own lips curl up as you shake your head at him. Unbelievable. He has all these people at his beck and call. 

Erwin has to get back on the field, though, fueled by the crowd like the other nine players. They end up pulling ahead of the other team and finishing the game eleven to seven. 

Naturally, Erwin announces a party at the Pike house, and naturally, Hitch drags you to it. 

This one is even bigger than the last. It offends every one of your senses—too loud, alcohol permeating the air, bad drinks, worse dancing, and strangers rubbing against you as you pass them. 

You give up on your beer before you’re even halfway through with it, just set the can on one of the counters and start milling around. You’d rather be anywhere else but here. Your head hurts from the game earlier, baking in the sun and not drinking enough water. Should’ve taken an Advil… And some Benadryl. Hitch wouldn’t have been able to bring you here if you’d been unconscious. 

All of the lacrosse team is there, flanked with guys who won’t stop slapping them on their backs and girls who won’t stop batting their eyes and squeezing their biceps. It’s comical, really, the fairweather trend. There’s no way this would be happening if they’d lost their last three games. Instead, the team would be getting harassed and pestered, not so subtle comments about practicing more and replacing members. You’ve seen it all before. 

Leaning against a wall, you watch it all unfold. It’s probably the most entertaining thing at the party other than the group of sorority girls dancing on a table. Things are getting out of hand already, and you would prefer not be here for the aftermath, but just as you're about to leave, Mike breaks away from the group and strides over to you.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you.” He takes a sip from his cup, smiling around the rim.

You use your usual excuse: “Hitch,” and he nods. 

“Right. Did you watch the game today?”

Crossing your arms, you mumble a, “Yes,” that Mike can’t hear but can definitely see.

He beams then asks, “You gonna tell me I played well? ‘Cause I did.” He’s all cocksure and giddy, and it makes your body run hot in a few different ways.

“I don’t think you need anyone else fawning over you,” you say with a condescending laugh.

“You mean you don’t want me to flex for you?”

“I’m leaving. Right now." When you push past him a little too roughly, it causes him to drop his cup, and your shirt is suddenly plastered to your chest and stomach. The white isn’t discolored, which leads you to believe, “Fuck, is this just straight vodka?”

“No, Christ,” he cringes at your wet state, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s just water. Sorry.”

You scrunch your top up to wring it out, wondering what he’s doing drinking water instead of liquor, but you’re not about to pick on him for staying hydrated. 

“It’s fine. I was about to leave anyway.”

He’s quick to stop you with a, “No, don’t. Just… change into one of my shirts or something."

Narrowing your eyes, you contemplate how many ways this can go wrong, how much you should not allow this, and even go as far as accusing, "You're just trying to get me in your room again."

"You wanna stay in a wet shirt?" Not really. "Come on."

He jerks his head toward the hallway, and you end up following him, grumbling the whole time because you swear to God if you end up on your back for him again, you're going to be very upset with yourself. 

Mike beelines it for his dresser as soon as you're in the room, much quieter than the rager outside. He digs around in it, flipping all the way to the bottom then pulls out a heather gray tee. 

"It'll probably still be a little big, but it's from high school, so you shouldn't drown in it."

He tosses it to you then, to your surprise, turns back to the wall to give you the privacy to change. You eye him the whole time, peeling off your top as well as your bra since it soaked through. His shirt still covers your little shorts, and you assume you look a lot like one of those sorority girls, but it's good enough, has that super soft feeling from being worn too much. 

"Thanks. You can, uh… You can turn around now."

Mike looks over his shoulder, like he's making sure you're decent, then turns around fully. 

"I was trying to get outta there anyway. Spilling a drink on you was a good excuse."

You open your mouth, choking on a scoff, then ask, "Did you do that on purpose?" 

"No! It really was an accident. I'm glad it was just water, but I still feel bad."

You're squinting at him, but now you're curious about something else.

"Why'd you wanna get away from the party?" 

Sighing, Mike shows a tired smile. "Honestly, I'm still worn out from the game. I'm already sore and covered in these god damn bruises. I just wanna relax."

"If you're covered in bruises, I can't imagine how the other team feels. You smacked the shit outta some of 'em."

"So, you were watching."

"I may have glanced up once or twice," you lie. "Anyway, why don't you just hide out in here?" 

He shrugs his shoulders. "Erwin insisted I show my face, and I didn't want him to give me shit about being a recluse."

You can relate. It's why Hitch drags you everywhere. You wouldn't even leave your dorm for classes if you didn't have to. 

Still. "Dude. You're definitely not a recluse. You're fucking everywhere. All the time."

"So? I can get tired too."

He's got a point. 

"Can we just chill in here for a while?" He asks you. 

"Why do you need me to chill? You basically just said you needed a break from social interaction."

"Yeah, but not all social interaction," he corrects with a small grin. "Please? I've got movies and video games, Zelda and shit."

Again, the contemplation kicks in, all the pros and cons. You know very well what this can (will) lead to, but you also want to escape the party. And, if Hitch whines about you leaving, you can tell her you were there the whole time. Not like it's a lie. 

"Fine, but I have some stipulations."

"Oh, do you?" 

"I do."

Mike waves a hand for you to go on. "Let's hear 'em then."

Holding up one finger, you tell him, "You have to let me snoop around your room—" he laughs. You lift another finger, "—and we are not, under any circumstances, having sex."

"Deal." 

You tilt your head, taken aback at how quick he is to agree. "Wait, seriously?" 

"Seriously. Go ahead. I'll pull up Hulu."

You hum, still suspicious, but start making your rounds, taking in photos from what you assume to be the high school soccer team he played on, then a fishing trip with Erwin, a middle-aged couple with a dog, and some pinned up tickets to sporting events he's attended. 

He has a bookshelf against a wall, textbooks at eye level, but the top and bottom shelves are filled with sci-fi and fantasy novels that make you smile. His TV is fairly large, big enough to see the picture from his bed which is also sizable and draped with a plush comforter. The last thing that catches your eye is his closet, halfway open and full of jerseys and Polos. A few different pairs of shoes sit at the bottom, but pushed all the way in the corner are a few boxes of fucking Magic the Gathering cards. 

"Oh, man. You really are a closet nerd. Like, literally."

"Huh?" Mike looks over at where you're kneeling, realizes what you're looking at and actually sounds self-conscious when he admits, "Yeah, uh, I wasn't joking the other day." 

"I've never played—too technical for me—but my friends in high school did."

"There are baseball cards back there too if that makes me any cooler."

"It doesn't," you say bluntly before straightening up and reaching to shut the door to his room. Plopping down on the floor next to him (where he was smart enough to sit), you add, "But even I can admit it's kind of endearing."

"Oh yeah?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, that stupid lopsided grin on his too-handsome face. 

"Don't get cocky, Zacharias." 

"You wouldn't let me if I wanted to."

Both of you agree to a Batman movie, and you make yourself comfortable, kicking your sandals off and leaning against the bed behind you. You're a little too aware of Mike's body beside yours, but you're able to ignore it for the most part, keeping a few inches between your arms and legs. Of course, he still brushes against you when the movie ends and he takes the time to stretch. His shoulders roll, making his shirt strain over his back, and when he holds his arms out, linked at his fingers, you can't help but take a quick look at his bulging biceps. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna feel like garbage tomorrow," he complains. You can see the bruises littering his arms, some of them thick lines while others are almost perfectly circular from where he was hit with the end of a lacrosse stick. 

"You have any classes?" You ask. 

"Just my ten o'clock and three o'clock."

You make a noise of acknowledgement then fall silent. You're not sure how to hold a conversation with him that isn't sarcastic or snippy since you haven't actually done a lot of talking in the first place. 

"Sucks," is all you can come up with. 

"It's alright. I've probably dealt with worse."

"Probably?" 

"Well, nothing really comes to mind, but I'm sure I have."

You should get going. It's late, and you have a nine AM tomorrow. Plus, the longer you sit next to Mike, the more ideas pop up in your head. Dirty ideas. Ideas that will leave you disappointed in yourself. 

"Well, I'm gonna head back. This has been…" You're unsure of what word to use, don't want to get his hopes up by saying 'fun'. 

Mike figures you out and offers, "Tolerable?" 

"Yeah, we can go with that. I'll get your shirt back to you sometime soon."

Mike chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just whenever you can." He grabs your wet top from the ground and holds it out to you, then reaches for the door as you slip on your sandals. 

You feel him close behind you, close enough for his chest to push against your back when you straighten up. His arm is pressing into your side, hand curled around the knob and twisting it, but he's unable to open the door as you let your head fall against it. 

"God dammit." 

"Hm?" You can tell he's leaning down because his breath falls just over your ear. 

"I said we weren't—"

He cuts you off, "But, you want to."

He's too hot and too smooth, and you can’t stop yourself from turning around and breathing, "Yeah, I want to." 

It's different tonight. Mike takes his time undressing you, kissing and sucking your neck, your collarbone, your nipples that pebble against his tongue. It's unnerving even as you squirm and moan. 

He eats you out lazily, flattening his tongue against your folds then dipping into your slit so that he can slip into your twitching hole. 

When he adds a finger, you immediately grind down on it, silently begging him to work you open enough to take his cock, but he doesn't move any faster, apparently content to just drive you insane. 

You're nearly begging by the time he turns you on your side and moves to lay behind you, hiking your leg up and pushing most of his length inside of you in one faultless motion that makes you choke and sob his name. 

That stretch is back, delicious as it is painful as he splits you open. His thrusts are the same slow pace, cock dragging against gummy walls as he drapes an arm over you to toy with your swollen clit. 

It takes you both longer than usual to come, but when you do, your whole body trembles against him, and you have to suck in several deep breaths until you feel like your lungs start actually filling with air. 

Mike paints your back with warm cum, groaning right in your ear as he rubs against you, his cock sliding easily up and down your skin and making more of a mess. 

That unnerving feeling blooms in your chest again, crawls up into your throat. 

Tonight had been too casual, too natural. The way you hung out and watched a movie was already a little strange. Him fucking you from behind, holding you tight against his body, was too tender. And, now, after he leaves to grab a wet towel and uses it to clean your back, you find yourself searching for words again only to come up with passionate—intimate. 

And, words like that scare you.

[ n e x t ]

[artificialqueens]

Ungodly Hour, Chapter One (Jaida x Nicky) - Scarlet Bloo

a/n: Hi! I started this fic back when the fic challenge was announced and here it finally is, (2?) months later, 3 days from the deadline. It’s been a ride, but I’ve finally gotten it to a place where I’m happy with it, and while not every chapter will posted during the challenge I’ve at least managed to get one in!

summary: Nicky is crushing hard on a bubbly soccer playing sorority sister. It’s unusual for her to ever be into anyone like this, and all she wants is to be on her radar. Popular girl Jaida is captain of the basketball team, and while she’s usually smart, French just isn’t her forte. Lucky for her, Nicky is a native speaker, so she makes it her mission to get her as her tutor. 

Challenge notes:

A large amount of the story is told from Jaida’s point of view. 

Close friends of the main characters: Widow, Heidi and Akeria (who will become more prominent characters in future chapters.)

The title is a song by Chloe and Halle Bailey. 

Nicky snuck a look in Jan Sport’s direction, her heart tingling as she absorbed her beauty. She sighed, knowing the preppy, popular sorority girl had absolutely no idea she even existed. It was laughable that she ever entertained the idea of a relationship with her, even if it was only in the late hours of the night, a fantasy to procrastinate her studies with. But with her long blonde hair, muscular arms and smiling eyes, how couldn’t Nicky be so intrigued by her? This was a new feeling. Nicky hardly ever found herself interested in anyone, let alone a woman. It was surreal to her, but it somehow felt right.

She cast her eyes away from Jan and tried to focus on the Professor at the front of the lecture hall. Unsurprisingly, it was nothing of value to Nicky. Miss Coulee was voicing her disappointment with the class after 70% of the class had gotten less than a C in the last exam. Nicky rolled her eyes, looking down at the big red “A!” circled on her own paper. Despite this achievement, she was regretting her decision to take French. Sure, it being her first language definitely made the classes easier, but left her so unsatisfied with how little she had to push herself to pass. 

“Of course you got an A”, Gigi whispered to Nicky. 

She had a defeated look on her face and Nicky felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. Gigi and Nicky weren’t close, but seeing as they’d been sitting next to each other every French lecture since September, they’d gotten to know a fair bit about each other. Like Nicky, Gigi was a fashion major but was taking French so she could “make it big in Paris one day” and Nicky knew academics wasn’t her strong suit. 

“Yeah well,” Nicky smiled sweetly, “French is my language, fashion is yours.”

Gigi seemed content with that answer and nodded satisfactorily as Coulee dismissed the class and all that could be heard was the snapping shut of laptops and notebooks and friendly chatter.

Jan lingered by the door giggling with her friends and Nicky’s gaze locked in on her like a missile. She was beautiful, and she could help but trace each curve of her body with her eyes. She felt her hands go clammy as she found herself lost in her animated expressions. Jan was different to Nicky’s image of a popular girl, she didn’t strut around campus like she owned the place or go through millions of relationships. She radiated positive energy and it just made Nicky all the more eager to get to know her. She wasn’t usually this into people, but Jan Sport had turned her into a pile of mush.

“You’re staring again.” Gigi’s teasing voice brought a blush to Nicky’s cheeks. She had caught her staring at Jan in awe on multiple occasions and was one of the very few people she’d actually admitted the crush to. The only other person who she’d told was her roommate and best friend, Widow. But her other friends? Definitely not. They were all art majors, and while Jan was taking music, it wasn’t really the same thing. Nicky guessed it made them the artsy crowd, and therefore substantially less popular. With the exception of Gigi and Widow, who had been in an on and off relationship with a soccer player since freshman year, Nicky’s friends spent lunch breaks talking as much shit as they could about Charles College’s elite. And it was somewhat justified. Most of the popular kids were complete pieces of shit. 

Case in point - Jaida Essence Hall, Charles College’s star athlete. The girl walked around like she owned the place, and Nicky guessed she kind of did. At the snap of a finger someone would appear at her side, eager to grant any and every wish. Or jump into her lap. Or stick their tongue down her throat. She didn’t look as confident as usual right then though, sitting fists curled around the edge of her paper in the lecture hall. Everyone else, including Coulee, had left, but Jaida remained in her seat. She must have failed the test too, but Nicky didn’t feel much sympathy for the girl. Charles college was best known for its Basketball, with its best players usually ending up in the pros, and during their years at Charles, they’d get handed everything on a silver platter. Maybe it was unfair, and a tiny bit vindictive, but Nicky got a sense of triumph from knowing that Coulee was failing the captain of the women’s basketball team along with everyone else. 

“Wanna grab something to eat?” Gigi asked as she gathered her books.

“Can’t, I have to finish up all of last week’s design work.” Nicky got up, but didn’t follow her to the door, “Go on ahead. I need to check the schedule before I go, I can’t remember when my next tutorial is.”

“Okay,” Gigi said, “I’ll see you later!”

“Later!” Nicky called after her. 

At the sound of her voice, Jan paused in the doorway and turned her head. It was impossible to stop the flush that rose in Nicky’s cheeks. This was the first time they’d ever made eye contact, and she didn’t know how to respond. In the end, she settled for a small nod of greeting. There. Cool, casual yet wouldn’t come off as rude. Her heart skipped a beat when the corner of Jan’s mouth lifted into a faint grin. She waved in response, and then she was gone. Nicky stared at the empty doorway. Her pulse exploded in a gallop. After six weeks of breathing in the same air in the stuffy lecture hall, Jan Sport had finally noticed her. She wished she was brave enough to go after her. Maybe ask her to grab a coffee. Or dinner. Or brunch - hell, is brunch even a big thing in America? But her feet stayed glued in place because she was a total coward. She was terrified she’d say no, but even more terrified she’d say yes. 

Nicky was in a good place when she started college. Her issues solidly behind her, her guard lowered. She was ready to date again, and she did. She dated several guys, but other than her ex, Kayla, none of them had been female, and none of them had made her body tingle the way Jan Sport did, and that freaked her out. 

Baby steps. That was her therapist’s favourite piece of advice, and she couldn’t deny that the strategy had helped her a lot. Focus on the small victories, Sasha had always advised. So, today’s victory, she nodded at Jan and she waved at her. Next class, maybe she’d wave back. And the one after that, maybe she’d bring up the coffee, dinner or brunch idea. She took a breath as she headed down the aisle, clinging to that feeling of victory, however miniscule it may be.

Jaida had failed. She’d fucking failed. For the last 15 years before she’d joined Charles College, they had handed out A’s like tic tacs. But the year she decided to take a French class? She had gotten stuck with Shea Coulee. It was official. This woman was her archenemy. Just the sight of her flowery handwriting—which filled up every inch of available space in the margins of Jaida’s midterm—made her want to scream, rip up the page, and leave education indefinitely. Jaida had been passing all her other classes, but this (almost ironic) F in French was completely bringing her average down. Normally, she had no problem keeping her G.P.A up. Despite what she knew a lot of Charle’s population believed, she wasn’t dumb. And the worst thing about Charles? Their dean demanded excellence—academically and athletically. While other schools were lenient toward athletes, Charles has a zero-tolerance policy. When she spoke to Coulee before class, she’d bluntly told her that unless she was going to find her own private tutor, she’d have no choice but to turn up to extra tutorials which overlapped with basketball practice. It really was a lose-lose situation.

 Jaida’s frustration manifested itself in the form of an audible groan, and from the corner of her eye, she saw someone jerk in surprise. Jaida jumped too, because here she thought she was wallowing in her misery alone. However, the girl from the back row had stuck around and was headed towards Coulee’s desk. Staci? Selena? Jaida couldn’t remember her name, probably because she’d never thought to ask for it before. She was pretty, though. A lot prettier than Jaida had ever realised. Perfect features, dark hair, a petite hourglass figure. How had she never noticed her before now? Her skinny jeans clung to a round, perky ass and her round breasts peaked slightly out of her v neck. 

“Everything okay?” the girl asked with a pointed look. Jaida murmured a reply under her breath. She really wasn’t in the mood to talk right then. 

The girl raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow in Jaida’s direction, “Sorry, was that english?” 

Jaida balled up her paper and scraped her chair back, “I said everythings fine.”

“Okay, then,” The girl shrugged and continued down the steps. As she picked up the clipboard that contained the tutorial schedule, Jaida flung on her jacked, then shoved her  pathetic midterm into her  backpack and zipped it up. The dark-haired girl headed back to the aisle. Sophie? Sabrina? The S sounded right, but the rest was a mystery. She had her midterm in hand, but Jaida didn’t sneak a peek because she assumed she failed just like everyone else.

Jaida let her pass before she stepped into the aisle. She followed her up to the exit, suddenly realizing how tiny she was compared to herself—she was one step below her yet could see the top of her head. Just as they reached the door, the girl stumbled on absolutely nothing and the books in her hand clattered to the floor.

“Shit. I’m such a klutz.”

She dropped to her knees and so did Jaida, because contrary popular belief, she wasn’t heartless, and the polite thing to do was help her gather her books.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’m fine,” she insisted.

But Jaida’s hand had already connected with her midterm, and her jaw dropped when she saw her grade.

“Fucking hell. You aced it?”  Jaida demanded.

The girl gave a sweet smile. “Well, I am French. I thought you’d have been able to tell from the accent.”

“Holy shit.” Jaida felt like she’d just bumped into Coco fuckin’ Chanel and she was dangling the secrets to her  universe under her nose. “Can I read your answers?”

Her brows quirked up again. “That’s rather forward of you, don’t you think? We don’t even know each other.”

Jaida rolled her eyes. “I’m not asking you to take your clothes off, baby. I just want to peek at your midterm.”

“Baby? Goodbye forward, hello presumptuous.”

“Would you prefer miss? Ma’am maybe? I’d use your name but I don’t know it.”

“Of course you don’t.” She sighed. “It’s Nicolette. Nicky for short.” Then she paused meaningfully. “Jaida.”

Okay, she was way off on the S thing. And Jaida didn’t miss the way she emphasized her name as if to say, Ha! I know yours, bitch! Nicky collected the rest of her books and stood up, but Jaida didn’t hand over her midterm. Instead, she hopped to her feet and started flipping through it. As she skimmed her answers, her spirits plummeted even lower, because if this is what  Coulee was looking for, she was screwed. There was a reason she was a  geography major, for gods sake—she dealt in facts. Black and white. This happened at this time to this person and here was the result. Nicky’s answers focused on detailed analysis on texts Jaida couldn’t even translate in the first place. 

“Thanks.”  Jaida gave her the booklet, then cracked her knuckles. “Hey, listen. Do you…would you consider…” she  shrugged. “You know…”

Nicky’s  lips twitched as if she was  trying not to laugh. “Actually, I don’t know.”

Jaida let out a breath. “Will you tutor me?”

Her grey eyes—slightly green and surrounded by thick black eyelashes—went from surprised to skeptical in a matter of seconds.

“I’ll pay you,” Jaida added hastily.

“Oh. Um. Well, yeah, of course I’d expect you to pay me. But…” She shaked her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Jaida bit back her disappointment. “C’mon, do me a solid. If I fail this makeup, my GPA will implode. Please?” She flashed a smile, the one that made her dimples pop out and never failed to make people melt.

“Does that usually work?” she asked curiously.

“What?“

“The winning innocent pageant girl smile… Does it help you get your way?”

“Always,” the taller girl answered without hesitation.

“Almost always,” Nicky corrected. “Look, I’m sorry, but I really don’t have time. I’m already juggling school and work, and with the winter showcase coming up, I’ll have even less time.”

“Winter showcase?” Jaida said blankly.

“Right, I forgot. If it’s not about basketball or your big pageants, then it’s not on your radar.”

“Now who’s being presumptuous? You don’t even know me.”

There’s a beat, and then she sighed. “I’m a fashion major, okay? And the arts faculty puts on two major displays every year, the winter showcase and the spring one. The winner gets a five thousand dollar scholarship. It’s kind of a huge deal, actually. Important industry people fly in from all over the country to see it. Fashion houses, investors, big magazines…. So, as much as I’d love to help you—”

“You would not,” Jaida grumbled. “You look like you don’t even want to talk to me right now.”

Her little you-got-me shrug was grating. “I have to go finish up some designs. I’m sorry you’re failing this course, but if it makes you feel better, so is everyone else.”

Jaida narrowed her eyes. “Not you.”

“I can’t help that I was born into a french speaking household.”

“Well, I want your help.”

Jaida was two seconds from dropping to her knees and begging her, but she edged towards the door. “You know there’s a study group, right? I can give you the number for—”

“I’m already in it,” Jaida muttered, embarrassed.

“Oh. Well, then there’s not much else I can do for you. Good luck on the makeup test. Baby.”

She darted out the door, leaving Jaida staring after her in frustration. Unbelievable. Everyone at this college would have cut their leg off to help her out. But this girl? Ran away like she’d just asked her to give up her first born so they could give it to Rumplestiltskin. And now  Jaida was right back to where she was before Nicky-not-with-an-S gave her that faintest flicker of hope. Completely fucking screwed.

[7-wonders]

Blame It On My Youth

Summary: You’ve seen enough of Michael’s world to last you three lifetimes. Now, it’s time to show him some of your world.

Word Count: 4907

A/N: Did that sound a bit like the Little Mermaid? Yes. Do I care? No. Hope you guys enjoy, feedback is always appreciated and, if you feel so inclined, I would love if you reblogged, liked, and commented.

Read Mad Love (part one) HERE | Read Totally F***ed (part two) HERE | Read The Isle of Flightless Birds (part three) HERE | Read A Hard Day’s Night (part four) HERE | Read Pour One Out (part five) HERE | Read Where Angels Fear to Tread (part six) HERE | Read Naked & Afraid (part seven) HERE | Read Ironically Alive (part eight) HERE

Out of all of the fantasy books that you read as a child, none was more frustrating than Lewis Carroll’s classic Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland. It was a fine book, filled with whimsy and adventure, all things that a child can devour like candy, but one particular passage captured your attention and warranted your problem-solving abilities for an entire week after you first finished the book. The famous question of “why is a raven like a writing desk?,” posed by the Mad Hatter to young Alice at their tea party, drove you nearly as mad as a Hatter in trying to solve it. It’s not as if there was an answer; the protagonist, herself, declared that “I think you might do something better with the time than wasting it in asking riddles that have no answers,” but you were determined to be the first to solve this unsolvable riddle. Obviously, you didn’t solve the riddle, and the answer still eludes you to this day. You haven’t thought about that old riddle for quite some time, but your current predicament, and the amount of time spent thinking about it, gives you an odd sense of deja vu and reminds you of Lewis Carroll’s question with no answer.

It’s been two weeks since your trip to the Murder House, and your mind has spun with hundreds of questions that seem to have no answer. Michael, of course, hasn’t been any help at all. The man seems to be a walking paradox; when you don’t need him, he’s impossible to get rid of, and on the rare occasion that you do need him, he can’t be reached. You’ve been able to talk to him, your weekend visits to his mansion forcing you to make some conversation, but Michael has diverted every question you’ve shot at him. He doesn’t get mad that you’re constantly coming up with questions that, to you, have no answers, which only confuses you even more. Although you shouldn’t be pushing your luck after his show of mercy at his childhood home, you feel that you’re entitled to some answers.

Michael, the infuriating, confounding, caring husband that he is, has patiently reminded you time and time again that your finals are more important than any questions you may have. You hate it when he’s right, especially when he pulls out the contract and points out that it was you who made it a point to refuse dropping out of school. Your questions, he tells you, can be answered after you’ve finished the semester and gotten the grades you know you’re capable of. If you’re being honest, at this point you would take a year of being trapped in the Murder House over a week of finals (“Your dramatics truly never get old,” Michael commented dryly when you complained to him during a study break on Sunday). Finals week, you’ve decided, is certainly the work of Michael’s father.

Regardless of your opinions on the week of tests that largely decide your grades, the feelings of joy and relief that flood through you upon walking out of the classroom in which your last final of the semester was held. You have a high enough grade in the class to be able to keep your ‘A’ even if you flunk and, if you were brave, you would have just completely skipped the final. Worst-case scenarios, however, prevented you from doing so and made sure that you actually studied for this test. No matter how you did on the tests, you walk across campus feeling like you’re floating on air. No more school for an entire summer! The bliss that accompanies a last day of school does not, thankfully, fade with age.

Part of you wants to literally put the school in your rearview mirror and stay at least a mile away for three months straight, but you’re also a good person who promised to meet her friends for lunch and isn’t about to back out of a commitment. College dining halls, contrary to popular belief, are not nearly as clique-y as high school lunch rooms. Although there’s a few tables that everyone knows the athletes sit at, the rest of the tables are up for grabs. This can make things difficult when you’re one of the last to an already-packed dining hall and you have to awkwardly stand in the middle of the room while you search for your ‘group.’ Having friends like yours makes this move a lot easier, waving at you to get your attention once they notice that you’re looking around for them.

“You had finals today, right? How’d they go?” Kate and Brennan sit across from you, a bowl of cucumbers sitting between them. You grab at one when you take your own seat, deciding a water-based vegetable is better than nothing.

“They went okay, especially considering they were my last finals,” you reply, glancing around the table to catalogue who is and isn’t here. It’s the usual crew, but you take note of a new face. Shooting Kate a glance, she quickly picks up on your question.

“Oh yeah, you two haven’t met before! (Y/N), this is Mallory. She’s in my Russian Lit class, her other friends have already left for the summer so I invited her to come sit with us today.”

Mallory’s beautiful, her large doe-like eyes and golden leaf headband nestled in her brown locks giving her the appearance of some sort of angel. She’s wearing a black dress that’s cinched with a belt that matches the headband, her outfit looking like it costs as much as a couple of textbooks.

“Hi, I’m (Y/N),” you smile warmly, Mallory returning your smile and waving at you.

“It’s really nice to meet you, (Y/N),” she says.

“Why haven’t I seen you around campus before?” Although it’s a large and populated college, you’re sure that you would have remembered seeing someone as unique as Mallory.

“Oh, we must just run in different circles.” The buzzing of your phone draws your attention from the conversation, sending Mallory an apologetic look before checking the notification.

“How did your tests go?” You can’t help the smile when you see Michael’s message, thumbs flying across the keyboard to type a reply.

“I think they went really well, thanks!” 

Barely thirty seconds pass before Michael’s responded, and you stifle a laugh at the mental image of Michael sitting at his desk and just waiting for you to check your texts. 

“You should call me when you get a chance, maybe we can go out and celebrate?” After the Murder House escapade, you had become a lot more lenient with your “two phone calls a week” rule. Sometimes it’s actually you that calls him first, much to the shock and surprise of both of you. 

“Wow, our second date? Amazing, maybe we can even go steady after this lmao,” you can’t help the sarcasm, especially not when the opportunity is right there.

“-and--(Y/N),” Kate whines, drawing your attention back to the people in front of you.

“I was listening!” You unconvincingly insist.

“Really? What was I talking about, then?”

“Um...Brennan?”

“No, but nice try. I was talking about the end-of-year party at Colin and Noel’s.” Colin and Noel are two best friends who live together and, at least once a month, throw the type of parties that are the stuff of legends. The first, and only, time you went to one, Noel got so drunk that he body slammed himself onto the pong table, somebody tried to crowd surf, and multiple people ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. 

That was on a regular Saturday in January.

“I don’t know, Kate, I’m still trying to recover from Thirsty Thursday at the Stadium House.”

“That was almost a month ago.”

“That’s the point,” you say jokingly. “But really though, I don’t like crazy parties, and I’d rather not deal with the cops.”

“They’ve scaled their parties back so much since the last time you came to one! No hospital visits related to events at their house, even!”

“Really?” You can’t help but be skeptical at her claim. 

“Really. Listen, you don’t even have to stay for long, but I’d really like to hang with you one last time before I go back home for the summer.” Kate smiles when you sigh, knowing she has you. A good chunk of your friends are all going off to the far corners of the country for the break, and this will probably be the last time that you’re all together for three months. 

“Alright, let me talk with, uhh--yeah, I should be able to swing by for a bit,” your friends don’t know about Michael yet, and you’d prefer to keep it that way.

“Yay!” Kate squeals, drumming her hands on the table in excitement. 

“I should get going.”

“I’ll see you tonight though, right?”

“...Right.”

“Are you going to the parking lot? I’ll walk with you if you are,” Mallory says, a twinge of guilt running through you at the realization that you practically forgot about the poor girl.

It’s impossible for you to say no, and you find yourself walking side by side with Mallory towards the parking lot. It’s a bit of an awkward silence, as it usually is when two people who don’t really know each other are left alone.

“Seriously though, how have we not met before? Are you a freshman?” You ask.

“No, but this is my first semester here. I transferred from a school in New Orleans.”

“Oh, I love New Orleans! I went there for a week last year, it was amazing.”

“Yeah, I, uh,” Mallory looks down towards her heeled shoes, nodding, “I miss it a lot.” Your heart aches at the sudden look of homesickness on your new friend’s(?) face, causing you to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Well, at least the school year’s over and you can go home now.”

“Actually, I think I’m sticking around for the summer. My aunt thinks it’s good for me to get out of New Orleans and out of my comfort zone. My best friend Coco’s letting me stay with her.” Mallory’s phone starts to ring, and she laughs when she looks at the caller ID. “Speak of the devil; it’s my aunt.”

“I’ll see you at the party tonight?” Mallory nods. 

“See you tonight, (Y/N).” Mallory watches you continue towards the parking lot, only answering her phone when you’ve rounded the corner. “Hey, Cordelia...Yeah, it’s her alright.”

////////////////////////////

Michael, as per usual, is in his office when you arrive at his home. Even though he has no logical way of knowing that you’ve arrived, the opening of his office door before your hand even makes contact with the knob gives you the sneaking suspicion that his Antichrist powers give him an advantage. You stroll in, Michael looking a little too nonchalant as he reads through some papers on his desk.

“Some serious Cooperative business?” You ask, falling into a chair on the other side of his desk. 

“You could say that,” he looks up at you, smiling. “How was your last day of the semester?”

“It was fine, finals were fine, it’s all fine, fine, fine.” You spin yourself in the chair, head falling back as you watch the blur of the ceiling above you.

“That’s a mood.” Stopping suddenly, you look at Michael in surprise before laughing loudly.

“Look at you, catching up on your slang!”

“Figured I’d try and actually learn what you were talking about.”

“Speaking of ‘moods,’ I might have something that would help to raise both of ours.” Michael raises an eyebrow, urging you to continue. “Some...friends of a friend are throwing a huge party tonight for the end of the year. Would you wanna go? I know you had talked about celebrating, but maybe we could celebrate this way?”

“You want me to go to a...college party? The same type of party that you drunk-called me from and where I had to get you from?”

Your face heats up at the reminder. “I’m not even going to be drinking at this party, I learned my lesson last time. Look, I know that you didn’t have the most normal upbringing, so maybe this could be your chance to experience some of the things you missed out on. You can’t tell me that you’re perfectly fine with going from a child to running your father’s army and planning the apocalypse practically overnight.”

Michael’s thinking about what you’ve said, which you’re not sure is good or bad yet. You know that you’ve made some good points, and he knows that you’ll go to the party even if he doesn’t. Maybe this is a question with no answer, like so many that you’ve encountered lately. Michael and parties don’t seem like they’d mix, and it’s impossible for you to read his mind like you can read his.

“Will I be out of place there?”

“Michael, there’s going to be so many people there that nobody will even look at you twice.” A lie; Michael’s far too beautiful for just one look.

“What time?” You aren’t even aware that you were holding your breath until he sighs and looks at you again.

“Really?” Michael nods. “Uh, probably nine or ten?”

“Is there not a set time for these parties?”

“Not really, just whenever people show up.” You stand up, smiling widely at Michael’s sudden apprehension and choosing to leave before he can change his mind. “I’ll leave you to your work!”

The good thing about being at the home of your Antichrist husband is that your wardrobe is limitless. A red satin top and a pair of black jeans (tightened with a Gucci belt, because how are you not going to take advantage of that?) is dressy, yet casual enough to be worn at a college party. When you trek down the stairs at a quarter to nine on a quest to scrounge around the kitchen for a quick meal, you’re not at all surprised to see Michael standing at one of the counters.

“You haven’t gotten dressed yet?” You ask, hopping up on the counter next to him and tearing apart a bread roll before popping a bite in your mouth.

“I figured I could just wear this to the party.” Michael’s expression sours when you laugh.

“I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t mean to laugh! It’s just--if you don’t want to attract a bunch of attention, then I wouldn’t suggest wearing a cloak, a suit, and a pair of red bottoms.” He looks down at his outfit, as if suddenly realizing how overdressed he is.

“But...I don’t know what else to wear?”

“C’mon, I’m sure we can find something in your closet for you to wear.” Michael hesitates when you grab his hand, obviously unsure of what to do next. “Kind of need you to lead the way, since I’m assuming your closet is in your bedroom that I’ve never been to before.”

“Right! Let’s go.”

The uncertainty that you feel at the threshold of Michael’s bedroom holds you back like a tether. It’s not as if anything unscrupulous is going to be happening, but the idea of invading the sanctity of your husband’s private bedroom is a little jarring. Peeking into the room, you’re reminded of a conversation you had with Michael during your first weekend here.

“Does every room look like this?” An unspoken question dangles in the air: does your room look like this? Michael grins widely, but it’s devoid of any of the emotions that a regular smile would accompany. It’s the smile of the devil. 

“Guess you’ll have to find out for yourself, won’t you?” He chuckles at the withering glare you give him, loping back towards the door and resting a hand on the silver handle. 

“So, every room does look the same,” you comment with a smirk, finally getting over your sudden fear and following Michael into his room.

“I had to have a little mystery surrounding me.” Michael smiles. “Are you going to help me or not?”

////////////////////////////

“Everybody here is in khaki shorts and printed shirts,” Michael hisses in your ear. Your hand grips Michael’s firm bicep, and you give it a teasing squeeze.

“Yeah, and you look a thousand times better than them. You always do.” Cars were already inconspicuously-but-not-really parked up and down the block, and you have to maneuver through at least fifty people just in the entryway and the living room. “College guys don’t really have a sense of style.”

“So I won’t lose you to one of these ‘boys,’ then?” Michael’s style, in your opinion, is timeless. You managed to work with his formal wardrobe, finding a white t-shirt and pairing it with an unbuttoned black shirt. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows (although that part may be totally self-serving), and his black jeans are cuffed into a pair of boots. He still looks more formal than everyone else, but it’s way better than him showing up in a goddamned cloak.

“You never even had me in the first place,” you chuckle, shooting Michael a playful wink. “C’mon, let’s see if we can find any of my friends around here.”

There’s coolers set up in the kitchen to keep the different cans and bottles cool, as well as an array of liquor on the kitchen island. Michael looks like a fish out of water, standing around awkwardly while you start peeking into the coolers.

“I thought you said you weren’t drinking,” Michael comments.

“I’m not, I’m just trying to find some soda or water.”

“(Y/N)!” You turn around, smiling when you see Noel standing before you.

“Hey, bud.” Noel, one of two party throwers of legend, is a shorter guy who makes up for his lack of height with his absolute insane stockpile of never ending energy. His black hair is always carefully gelled and combed into place, and he dresses like a middle-aged rich dad who’s going boating for the weekend.

“Who’s your friend? If he’s a part of Sig Tau, he needs to get outta here before Colin sees him, because Colin still has a huge problem with--”

“No, don’t worry, he doesn’t go to our school.” Noel nods, drumming his hands on the table and picking up a bottle of tequila.

“In that case, can I get you two some shots?”

“I don’t know, Noel, I wasn’t really planning on drinking tonight.”

“C’mon, (Y/N), one shot’s not gonna get you fucked up. I’ve seen you drink before, you’re barely even gonna get buzzed.” He winks, already knowing that you’re going to say yes when you sigh.

“Two shots, then.”

Noel expertly pours two shots, sliding them your way with a friendly “enjoy” before leaving to continue his hosting rounds.

“What’s Sig Tau? Is that some sort of a cult?” Michael asks once Noel’s gone.

“It’s a fraternity, so close.” You slide a shot to Michael and pick up your own, downing it with a grimace. Michael just stares apprehensively at the clear liquid in the shot glass. “Are you not going to drink that?”

“What is it? It looked like you were drinking gasoline.”

“It’s tequila, which is kind of the same thing.”

“If I die, I’m holding you responsible.” Michael throws his own shot back, coughing and hacking as you cheer. “Satan, that was terrible. Why do people drink that?”

“I dunno,” you shrug, grabbing two bottles of water from a cooler and tossing one to Michael, “quick little buzz, palate cleanser, there’s a million different reasons.”

Michael grabs your hand and pulls you out of the way when a girl, clearly already drunk, nearly bumps into you on her search for another drink. She mumbles an apology, choosing to take the whole bottle of Jack Daniels with her instead of pouring it into one of the hundreds of red Solo cups stacked on the counter. His blue eyes meet yours and you both chuckle, silently agreeing to move out of the cramped kitchen and somewhere with less people. While the living room’s not any better, you do manage to run into Kate and Mallory.

“You made it!” Kate exclaims, pulling you from Michael to hug you. Her eyes are wide while also managing to droop at the same time, and you can almost guarantee that she’s crossed. 

“I told you I would be here,” you say, giggling when Kate affectionately boops your nose. Mallory’s standing awkwardly to the side, eyes flickering between you and Michael. Kate also seems to pick up on her friend’s sudden change in demeanor, and smirks when she notices the man trailing behind you.

“And just who is this, (Y/N)?”

“Oh, this is my--uh, my friend Michael.” ‘Friend’ seems like a good term to settle on; you can’t explain your true relationship, Michael is not your boyfriend, and ‘acquaintance’ would be weird to say. Kate wiggles her eyebrows at you, sticking her hand out for Michael to take.

“Helloooo, (Y/N)’s friend Michael.”

“So, do you two have the same classes?” Mallory asks politely.

“No, Michael isn’t in college. He...well, he does--”

“I work for my father,” Michael interjects, smiling down at you. “I’m learning the ropes before I take over for him.” It’s technically not a lie, and you’re impressed until you remember that this must be one of his Antichrist powers. Mallory nods, but you can see a hint of something--doubt, or maybe suspicion?--in her eyes. Kate gasps before anymore words can be exchanged, grabbing yours and Mallory’s hands excitedly.

“I love this song! Dance with me, please!” You don’t really have a choice, the small woman amazingly strong when she wants to be. You look back at Michael apologetically, but he just smiles and gestures for you to go with. 

The familiar bass that underlays all hip-hop songs thumps loudly through you, acting as some sort of an electric charge. Where you had once been bored and ready to quietly slip out of the front door, you’re now controlled by the beat of the song. The congregation of partiers who have also decided to dance grows larger with each passing second, enveloping your trio in the middle. While the dancing isn’t so much dancing as it is bouncing in time with the rhythm, it’s carefree in a way that you didn’t know you needed until now. Mallory takes your hands, both of you laughing as she spins you in a circle.

Michael leans against the wall, head tilted as he watches the dancing college students. More specifically, he intently watches you dancing with your friends. He’s intrigued, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a smile as you move in a way he’s never seen you move before. While you’re more relaxed around him now, you’re still so reserved in your mannerisms. Here, Michael sees a glimpse of who you once were before he dragged you into his life. You smile widely, singing the lyrics at the top of your lungs along with everyone else in the group of dancers. Your hair flows freely around your face, and he finds himself enraptured by the movement.

Would things have been different between you two if Michael wasn’t the Antichrist? Maybe, in another life, or another universe, you both would have attended the same college. The image pops into his head like it’s burned there; Michael sitting next to you on the first day of some nameless class, becoming friends with you first. Slowly but surely, your bond would only deepen, and from friends would spring lovers. Michael shakes his head imperceptibly: a fantasy. He can’t dwell on these silly theoretical questions that have no answers. It’s a fruitless pursuit, and nothing good will come out of fixating on the ‘what if’s.’

Michael jumps in surprise when you’re suddenly in front of him, being too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice the song ending and you making your way back over to him. You laugh, obviously delighted at finally catching him off guard. 

“I let you startle me that time,” he jokingly argues.

“Uh-huh, if that’s what makes this crushing defeat easier for you. Anyways, do you wanna get out of here? Kate and Mallory are the only ones I really came here to see, and if we’re not going to drink there’s not really any reason to be here.”

“I’m ready to go home if you are.”

“Actually, I might have a little detour for us…” you trail off, smiling conspiratorially.

“Oh?” Michael’s not sure if he should be excited or nervous for idea of yours, something that you easily pick up on. 

“I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re sitting on opposite sides of a booth in a small diner that you frequent with friends during the school year. A basket of french fries sits in the middle of the table, two tall glasses that are already beading with condensation standing guard next to the food. Amidst the fluorescent lighting, scratchy country music, loud ceiling fans, and run-down booths, you’re struck by how out of place Michael seems here, in your world.

He had stuck out like a sore thumb at the party, his uncomfortable posture and expensive clothing practically screaming that he did not belong in that small house. Here, in a restaurant with patrons ranging from a young family to an elderly couple, a middle-aged businessman to a homeless woman, he looks like some far-away traveler who landed in the wrong town. He’s a Renaissance piece of artwork, something far too beautiful and celestial for the eyes of these mere humans who couldn’t begin to comprehend the masterpiece that is Michael Langdon.

“Just what are we doing here?” Michael asks after the waitress, an older busty woman with red hair straight from the box, sets your order down and leaves. 

“We’re enjoying a late-night snack,” you say simply, grabbing at a fry and savoring the first bite into the just-fried food.

“A late-night snack consisting of french fries and--are these milkshakes?” Michael picks up one of the glasses, investigating its contents. 

“Uh, yeah? Have you never had a milkshake before?”

“(Y/N), my grandmother hid me away and refused to let me out of the house. Of course I’ve never had a milkshake before.” Your face falls, proving that you’re still not good at hiding your emotions like Michael is. Pushing the other glass towards him, you lace your fingers together and place them under your chin. 

“I’m honored that I get to be a part of your first milkshake experience, then. There’s vanilla and chocolate; try them both, and then you can have whichever one you like best.”

Michael looks uneasily between the two glasses, as if trying to decipher if one is poisoned. “Which one do you prefer?”

“I like them both,” you shrug. 

Finally, he takes a cautious sip of the chocolate. You’re mildly disappointed when he doesn’t have any sort of reaction, silently cataloguing his opinions on the flavor before taking a less-cautious drink of the vanilla. Without any fanfare, he pushes the chocolate back towards your waiting hands.

“They’re both good, you’re right, but I like this one better.” You smile, sliding the glass towards you and sipping the shake that he’s rejected.

“Um, Michael…” you trail, not sure how to phrase what you’ve been thinking of for the past week.

“Yes?”

“Would--is the offer to move in with you still on the table?” Michael smirks widely, and you rush to explain yourself. “It’s just that my rent is going up next month and it’s not worth it at this point, and your place is closer to campus. Plus, my cat likes you better than she likes me.”

You’re not sure why you’re nervous, since he’s obviously going to say yes to your request. You living with him was one of the only things he desperately wanted during the contract negotiations. When you think about it, you just don’t want him to get the wrong idea. It seems as if you’ve finally reached a comfortable relationship with Michael, a place where you tolerate him and could even see him as one of your friends. But an actual romantic relationship is so far down the list of things that you and Michael are, and you don’t want him to think that you’re finally going to be the loving wife that Satan wanted you to be. For lack of better wording, there’s no way in hell that will happen.

“Only because I like your cat better than you, and I wouldn’t want her to go homeless.” Your mouth drops and you laugh, picking up a fry and throwing it at Michael who, of course, deftly catches it in his mouth.

“You jerk!”

“You said it first, not me!”

“Fine,” you sit back against the booth and cross your arms over your chest, trying to keep your best poker face on, “but you should know that we’re a package deal.”

“Hmm, I suppose I can cope with that.”

“Do we have a deal, then?” Yet again, you’re struck by the irony of making a deal with the Devil (well, the Devil’s son, but close enough). Michael picks up his glass and waits for you to do the same, clinking your milkshakes together in agreement. 

“We, my dear, have a deal.”

////////////////////////////

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[bananashemmo]

Committed The Robbery (Part 3)

Pairing: Y/N/Gangmember!Ashton

Rating: NC-17

Request: Yes

Parts: 1 | 2 

Summary: On a scale from 1 to shit, how fucked would Ashton be if he ended up banging the other gangmember Luke’s little sister Y/N?

Read Committed The Robbery on Wattpad

“Y/N what are you waiting for, come on!”

You confusedly zoned out from your thoughts by the sound one of the girls from your behind. You had been glaring at James for the past ten minutes standing less than 25 meters away from you, his eyes boring into yours despite his attention being on the football.

“I-, I’m coming.” You managed to say and blinked twice. You didn’t like the way he was staring at you but there was no way you could avoid it.

The weather was warm and nice, a little bit cloudy. It was perfect for today’s occasion, people wouldn’t be sweating outside like inside and you didn’t have to worry about the lack of guests that would show up.

Today was, as mentioned, unlike any other.

Every year at Sydney Falls College, an annual football game would be held. The rival was always the same, you had the record of winning almost every year and today shouldn’t be any different.

There was no doubt everyone was excited. The football team had been playing until the early mornings were met by the sun rising. They had been out of their dorms and arrived back just in time to take a shower and leave for early classes.

It had become some sort of ritual. Every year they were playing to win the massive golden trophy with the title, “College Of The Year.” It had been standing on your shelves with other trophies and they barely dared to take it out on this day every year.

You had only been a part of the school for a small three months. Being a Freshman in college definitely left you a bit confused and new, but when you thought about it you had caught up with the college history.

It was all about hating the other team as much as possible. When speaking about them it had to involve some sort of insult in your sentence, even the mascots for both teams hated each other.

It was only a rumor but one time you had heard the school had kidnapped the other mascot and locked it into the librarian’s room. She hadn’t taken notice of it before seeing a giant shark costume with a little human head in the middle of it.

You didn’t understand what the luck would be, a man dressed in a costume couldn't do that much? But it was important to the footballers and definitely also important to the school and headmaster Hughes.

The footballers were running back and forth and between cones with a ball each, wanting to warm up for the big show.

You had been standing on the sideline watching for a bit. Not that you wanted to but every time you were near James you couldn’t avoid watching where he was going.

He was almost like a shadow. Always there when you least expected it. It wasn’t often you saw him around campus but when you did, you couldn’t look anywhere else. It had become a habit you couldn’t get rid of.

It wasn’t that you weren’t occupied. In fact, you were a little bit behind but you had your reasons for it.

Starting out at college with the heavy weight of being Luke Hemmings’ little sister carried on your shoulders left a few disadvantages. It was hard trying to start new friendships when everyone was somehow avoiding and almost afraid of you.

Not that they were afraid of who you were as a person. Everyone knew you were fragile and could barely kill a bug. All they feared was to somehow hurt you because they knew how it would turn out.

Luke’s reputation was quite spoken between students. It was a hard start but you were also aware of it. You could have started at any other college but you decided to take this one.

Maybe it had a bit to do with the fact that everyone knew Luke. It meant that you didn’t have to explain how complicated and messed up your life was because he had been there to show everything that was about it.

Living alone with Luke also meant that it wasn’t that many options you had when it came to college. It was one of the cheapest around and you concluded by the huge amount of slackers it would be easy to get some good grades here and there.

You could kind of say you were the complete opposite of Luke. While he was shady and dark you were caring and rightful. He was the loud one at parties while you mostly avoided it, being the quieter one.

He had been taking care of you for as long as you knew. It wasn’t that many years ago your parents had left but even before that he had been the most protective one out of them all.

Nobody should ever mess with him or his little sister.

Safe to say when you showed up at your dorm for the first time you scared the hell out of your new dorm mate.

Not that you looked any scary, you had even decided to do something out of your attire just to give the best impression possible. It was with a huge smile and nicely blushed cheeks you walked into the room but it had changed quickly.

The frightened look on her face was priceless but also a very bad start for a new beginning.

She had a welcoming smile but it also faded away once she recognized you. You barely understood how she had been able to but you could barely keep a proper secret in this.

It was with a shaky voice she could barely say, “You’re Y/N Hemmings.”

From that, you knew what the clock had timed. All those thoughts running in her mind at once per milliseconds would be completely wrong. It would all be a picture made out of who you appeared to be, not how your personality was.

Her name was Alba, Albs for short. She seemed pretty geeky the second you came inside, her cheeks were covered with cute freckles and her hair was dark and short to her shoulders.

The way she was clutching onto her books and looked at you spoiled many things. She was a frightened person already, probably a bit misplaced in society and also seemed to be more afraid to speak to people than you were.

She was a perfect character, the way she dressed and the attitude she had. She could have been the typical victim in high school and too afraid to state her opinions unless it would be at a class where she knew she would be smarter than anyone else.

Lots of her stuff was already filling the room, she did look quite like a mess. She had her glasses resting in her hair and with so many books in her tiny body you were sure she would sooner than later drop them.

It was hard to break through to her. She seemed to be a very distant person at times but when getting to know her she was hilarious as hell.

Sure she was still a bit frightened when speaking to you but as days went by she seemed to loosen up. Telling more about herself and her family, it was quick that your friendship grew.

She knew what your background was and the intentions Luke and his friends had behind their actions. Not that she understood or respected it, but she was aware without having to walk around with a question mark printed in her forehead.

While she studied biology, which wasn’t that big of a surprise, she invested most of her time in her books. That was where you always found her, sitting with her knees to her chest and her back pressed against her pillows.

You, on the other hand, had a focus on law and enforcement which was pretty ironic considering the industry your brother was in.

It didn’t take long before you had settled with being used to each other. You slept around the same time, both of you were quiet people so it wasn’t like you hated each other by sharing a dorm.

But on the other hand, you were a bit more reckless compared to Alba.

When claiming that you wanted to be a part of the cheerleading squad she had laughed at first. In fact, she was laughing for five minutes straight before realizing that you were dead serious with your idea.

Why join the cheerleading squad she questioned. It was truly a really great question, you had never been the one to be in some sort of group when it came to high school but in college, you wanted the start of something different.

You were nervous as hell and it wasn’t like you had been in a group of many girls before. They almost seemed scarier than when Luke and his friends hung around selling drugs by the back of your old apartment.

It wasn’t that you were that athletic but it was a challenge and you liked it.

It would be a good way to get to know others, you had needed that when you were in high school but too afraid to say anything. You wanted a good new start and it was fun to look at the football players run around on the field sweaty.

But what you hadn’t given a thought was the fact that James had decided to be on the football team.

No doubt it was a coincidence, you knew he was a part of the football team in high school and it wasn’t much a surprise that he continued in college. It was his way of showing that he deep inside wasn’t just a horrible person towards girls.

When seeing him for the first time your heart skipped a beat and not in a good way. He was having that cocky smile on his face but made sure not to do anything because just like you, he wanted a clean start at college.

Where nobody had to fear him and see him as the villain. Here, he had gotten a few more friends and the girls were almost shouting over him. It didn’t make any sense to you because he still managed to get humiliated when Luke was around.

You could feel the cold sweat drip down from your back when you turned around and headed back to the other cheerleaders standing in a pile of girls.

It almost looked like a giant piece of chess game. The uniforms were cute, yet simple. They weren’t as slutty as they could have been at other colleges and you were allowed to wear shorts under the skirts.

Colors were just as simple as the fabric. Black and white to show the national colors of the college and with a large S in the middle for Sydney. On the back, you had numbers just like the football team almost as if you could match a boy and a girl.

You were happy that the colors were out of the ordinary instead of looking like someone in a giant pile of candy floss or some typical colors like red or blue.

They suited you well and were perfect for the weather. The girls were currently on their way to make a pyramid but of course, they were missing the last one to complete it.

“The game starts in twenty minutes. I need you all to smile and be prepared.” Joanna, the captain of the cheerleading squad announced with a matching bell between her lips.

She could be a bitch sometimes but deep inside was a sweetheart. The cheerleading was had huge importance in her life. It had been passed by for generations and it was also the reason why she was doing everything with big passion.

“I’m here.” You announced like it wasn’t obvious and placed your foot on the waiting hands to be lifted up and do your usual pose.

From this view, you were able to see everything. Guests were slowly filling out the many black seats that crowded the whole football field. The guys in the booth above the board with points were preparing everything. Currently, it was spelling “Welcome.”

You practiced twice a week and it was nice to get away with everything. It was also a benefit because your fitness became better and you could do stuff with your body you had never believed would be possible.

The nerves were obvious on the way you were standing because you were shaking more than usual.

This was your first official show. You had been to previous games before but you had always been sitting in the audience. Not right next to the football field with a team to accompany you.

Some were also nervous which was fine but you knew that if Joanna saw weakness she would snap you out of it. It was the best power she had in her mind.

“Okay, one last try of the pyramid before you get the last break. We’re talking five minutes, drink some water and go for a pee if needed.” She yelled at the top of her lungs to drown the loud sounds of the footballers from her behind.

They were chanting their usual song, the one that seemed to motive everyone and scream the lyrics as loud as possible.

You jumped down from the pyramid and stretched your arms to get away the feeling of heavyweight being pulled from your shoulders.

You knew it had to be quick with the lack of time you had but because of the sun, you needed some water from your locker in the changing rooms.

It wasn’t many that took the chance, being late with Joanna was like being late for classes with Mr. Talinn in law. Not something to mess with in college.

You and three others entered the changing rooms after taking the short run from the football field. Luckily enough a tunnel led to the rooms and with one quick check in your locker, you would be out in no time.

The music coming from above also spoiled that it was almost time, people were starting to cheer already and there was less than minutes left.

Alba had also sent you a text saying she was there. Usually she wouldn’t do such things like this because of her anxiety but she wanted to be a part of the “Squad” and most probably also see you make a huge fool of yourself.

Opening your locker to throw in your jacket and took out your water bottle you almost counted all the second you used.

You were almost more afraid of Joanna than someone else. But maybe that was a little too quickly said for sure.

“Care to share?”

You barely got the chance to swallow the water and the bottle was quickly dropped to the ground.

“Because with everything I’ve been put through that’s the least you can owe me,” James spoke through gritted teeth. He had revenge in his eyes and he was pressing you harshly against the lockers.

“Ver-,” You didn’t get the chance to yell for Veronica standing on the other side of the lockers reversed of yours to ask for help before he placed his large hand in front of your mouth.

You were a wiggling mess trying to grab as much attention possible but it was pointless. Veronica and whoever was around had left less than a minute after and it gave James the chance to do what he pleased without witnesses.

“Look at the little stunt your puppets pulled at me? Who do you think’s gonna pay for that?” He removed his hand to let you speak and showed you the burns and redness he had.

They hadn’t been that obvious on distance but you could tell how worse they had gotten by the days passing by. He had marks around his neck and they had turned into a deep shade of purple.

“Because of them I almost didn’t make it to the game. Hell, they nearly killed me! Coach Zurich was definitely worried considering my injuries. You know I could have easily spoiled anything but what could they do about it? So much for expelling them!”

You widened your eyes trying to get away but it was nearly impossible. He had you trapped in a way against the black lockers you couldn’t get away without injuring yourself badly.

“What do you expect when you started it?” You managed to say and felt his grip around you became stronger by your question.

“I started this? You know it goes way back. You know I just follow the steps of my brother.” He smiled in delight and managed to remove a strand of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes.

“The steps of your brother are to torment mine. I don’t have anything to do with this.” You flicked your head to get his hand away from your face. The hair was the least annoying thing right now.

“That’s where you misunderstand it, Y/N.” He almost spoke softly but it was only to annoy you even more.

“We’re the new generation and we need to pass it on. Your brother and mine hate each other so I thought why not do the same with you? You shouldn’t complain you know, using the excuse that you’re a girl doesn’t work in this society we currently live in.”

He was enjoying this so much. All the power he had over you, you figured out he had been waiting on the football field until you would leave. It was why he had been staring at you with the same common smirk.

“And you know what the best part about this is?” He asked and leaned his mouth to your ear, “Both you and Luke gets the chance to suffer.”

“Suffer from what? My knuckles hurting after beating you senseless?”

It was almost too good to be true when you heard the sound of Luke. He was standing by the end of the lockers with a smirk better than James’ could ever wear and had the boys behind his back.

“I’ll survive.” He spoke and in a split second, James let you go.

You knew it wasn’t amusing at all but seeing the other boys were a bit hilarious. They had loaded their hands from the small shop upstairs, Michael was having a large bag of popcorn in his arms and ate them almost intensely.

“Now leave her before I tore out your spleen with my hands.” Luke made a small nod with his head just to prove his seriousness.

“Do it!” Michael chanted from his behind, he and Calum watching like it was some sort of great movie with their popcorn and candy.

Luke didn’t say anything but had his arms crossed and waited impatiently. He didn’t flick a muscle and kept the intense eye contact with James as he walked past the boys to get to the exit of the changing rooms.

You were still pressed against the lockers but it was with a huge sigh of relief.

“After what we did it was simple logic he would go straight for your throat once he had the opportunity,” Luke explained when you shared eye contact and you hurried towards him to be wrapped up for a hug.

“Couldn’t really let that happen, huh?” He said more quietly and smiled when you leaned your chin on the top of his shoulders.

Ashton was standing behind with a satisfied smile on his face. He wasn’t saying anything and neither had he done something but the fact that he wanted to show up made you realize how much you appreciated it.

“Thank you.” It wasn’t said out loud but you knew he would understand from your silent language, he made a wink with his eye and turned around.

“Are you staying to watch the game?” You asked and closed your locker.

“It seems like it.” Luke nodded his head towards the popcorn and candy, Michael and Calum walking in front while you stood with him and Ash.

It wasn’t often that he was a part of these things but since he was here he wanted to see what was going on. He knew they were expelled but in the massive pile of people, they most probably wouldn’t get recognized.

“Nice outfit,” Ashton commented once Luke hurried up to grab a few popcorns once you came outside. You suspected it more to be him hiding behind the popcorn to make sure nobody would recognize him.

Rolling your eyes by his words you lifted up one of your pong pongs to shake them in his face, just to be a tease like him.

“You know we have this party later.” He announced causally, you knew they had been talking about it before but this time he made it official.

“A party? Sounds like a mess already.” You smiled and squeezed your eyes by the bright sun in your face once you were out of the changing rooms and back on the field.

You could almost pre-call all the early parties they had been hosting. It always ended up in a huge mess and it was the reason why you never had parties at yours and Luke’s old apartment. But things changed since they had moved together.

“If you want you could join you know... With Luke’s permission of course.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You scratched your arm almost nervously and looked up at him apologizing.

You weren’t sure why he was asking but it definitely sounded like a bad idea. You knew it would end up in you just talking in the corner with someone throughout the hall night and it had been a long weak.

You just needed some sort of peace.

“I’ve got some studying to do. I’m sure you still know how the feeling of that is.” You were a little bit cocky but it was okay. He could handle it, almost being the worst one of the two of you.

“Indeed.” He agreed and ran a hand through his curls, stopping by the entrance to the stairs leading up to the many chairs.

“We’ll be keeping an eye on you,” Luke said as he looked over his shoulder and made a motion with his fingers.

“Please don’t.” You grinned lightly and smiled at their direction before following the group of cheerleaders screaming at the top of their lunges and heading towards their position on the field.

[sebastiansmythejoie]

Singing and Mysteries

Who: Sebastian Smythe and Topher Hummel Where: Vice Provosts' Garden When: August 23rd, Afternoon

Christopher

Topher normally didn't hang out in the Vice Provosts' garden, but it was a lovely day out and that apparently put him in the mood to switch things up. He'd settled down on a bench with his cane set at his side while his guitar case rested on the ground in front of him. It took a few moments of experimental tuning before he got it back to normal. Then it was another short period of silence before a song finally popped into his head.

"You have my heart and we'll never be worlds apart," Topher started off with a quiet voice, barely audible while he recalled the lyrics. "Maybe in magazines, but you'll still be my star. Baby, 'cause in the dark you can't see shiny cars." He continued to sing and strum along while his volume slowly increased along with his confidence. He enjoyed moments like these where he got to turn his mind off for a moment in order to just enjoy some music.

Sebastian

Sebastian had just finished another long Lacrosse practice. It was clear the team was exhausted but Bas was so determined to win this final game he would do almost anything, and that was how he found himself walking through the Vice Provosts' Garden. Sebastian wouldn't usually be see dead eating in the School cafeteria but tonight he was far to tired to think about cooking back at his apartment so here he was taking a shortcut through the gardens to the cafeteria building. Sebastian was thinking about anything that could give them an edge in the game coming up when he heard someone singing a familiar song accompanied by the sound of a guitar.

Bas looked around the garden and his eyes caught the sight of one of his recent finds; Topher Hummel. Bas grinned and changed direction towards the boy on the bench. Sebastian leaned against the wall behind the bench Topher was sat on, letting his eyes close and the music wash over him, it was a secluded spot that allowed him a moment to get out of his own head which wasn't something Bas afforded himself very often these days after losing his artistic outlets.

Bas leaned over Topher's shoulder when his song was finished, "Hey there handsome" Sebastian greeted with his most charming smile and silky voice.

Christopher

Sebastian's voice almost made Topher jump a mile high yet he only gave a small smile as he glanced up. "Hey stranger," he greeted with an easygoing smile despite the light pink blush that painted itself on his cheeks while he moved in order to place the guitar in its' case. Next, the Creative Writing major shifted on the bench in order to give Sebastian room to sit. His text conversation with Kurt flashed like a warning the back of his mind yet he turned it off for the time being. Topher would always treat people with kindness unless they gave him a reason not to which hadn't happened so far in his opinion. "Somebody should put a bell on you, you know? So you don't go startling people with heavy musical instruments."(edited)

Sebastian

Sebastian let out a short burst of laughter, he hadn't exactly been trying to scare Topher, but hadn't exactly been trying to advertise his presence either. He couldn't hid the grin on his face seeing the splash of color rise in Topher's cheeks, it was nice to still be able to make men blush like that, especially handsome men. College guys were a lot harder to make blush than boys in high school who were often visiting a gay bar for the first time and had certainly never experienced someone like Sebastian hitting on them. His conquests had been like a game to him but now he was starting to feel like he was losing Kat, his only real family, to Hunter, his only really close friend, he was spending more time with new people just to feel less alone.

Bas watched Topher lay down his guitar and hoped over the back of the bench to sit down. He wasn't afraid to show off his athletic body. "It wouldn't be any fun if you knew I was coming, I like it to be a surprise." Sebastian winked, that part of him definitely hadn't, and probably wouldn't, ever change. "Not to worry I wouldn't let a beautiful object like that be broken," Bas responded eyeing the guitar. Piano had always been his forte but he could definitely still remember a few things about guitar playing. He did miss his music.

Christopher

"What a gem," Topher responded as he gave a charming smile of his own once his cheeks had gone back to their normal color. It was amazing how easily he blushed nowadays, whenever a guy so much as smiled at him in a friendly way. "But I can understand wanting to surprise people at the very least. That's something I love to do for my family and friends. Sweep them off their feet with a cool thing or two."

He then added, "But you probably don't want to hear me waxing poetic about that." Topher leaned over for a moment in order to close up the case then moved it closer to him for easier access in case he stood up in the near future. "What brings you swinging by this little pocket of campus if you don't mind me asking? Kinda looks like you just left a practice session. You on one of the teams?"

Sebastian

"I am not just a gem, I'm a fucking delight," Seb laughed, feeling more comfortable. Bas had been slightly on edge since his encounter with Jaxon a few days ago, he had not realized how someone could take his advances so innocently and now he was being more cautious with his words and actions, he didn't want to feel that guilt ever again. Never did Bas want to become one of those people who did anything to a person they didn't want to do. "Oh so you're a Prince Charming then, ready to save a girl from her dragon guarded tower and sweep her off her feet?" He retorted, enjoying playfully chatting with Topher.

"Oh I can enjoy poetry as much as the next man," Bas shot back, finally taking his eyes from the guitar and bringing his thoughts back from his current problems to the younger man beside him, letting himself enjoy some new company. "Yeah we just finished practice. I'm Lacross Captain, Co-Captain I mean to say or 'Tana will have my balls." He chuckled, brushing his freshly washed  hair from his face. and letting the strap of his gear bag fall to the ground at his feet. "I believe I was trying to sign you up for world languages club when we met, shame you didn't see me the day I was doing the demonstration for fencing, I'm actually a coach for the team and my pants are so tight it wouldn't have taken this long for us to run into each other again." Seb winked. "How's Freshman life treating you? All the freedom and alcohol you ever dreamed?"

Christopher

That got a hearty chuckle out of Topher as he listened then gave a nod. "Or anybody who needs rescuing from a dragon guarded tower really. It's 2019, I could save a fellow prince without intensive questioning," he remarked. Funny how they were talking about dragon guarded towers when he felt like his mind and heart could serve as literal examples. But that got brushed off as he turned his attention back to listening.

He managed a playful eye roll which was soon followed by a low whistle. "Damn, but hey, if she's just as fierce on the field then imagine the team is rolling in the wins. Then yeah, sounds about right for our first face to face meeting." He lightly scrubbed his hand over his face in order to hide the returning blush until it faded just as quickly. "As for freshman life, definitely got the freedom and alcohol if so desired. You don't want to see me after four or five beers though. That's when the terrible pick up lines start getting tossed out. How're things with you?"

Sebastian

"Luckily for me they don't often lock up the princes' so that makes my life easier." Bas smiled, the conversation with Topher was easy, Bas was sad he hadn't run into Topher again before now, maybe this was his chance to have a friend not just a hookup.  "I'm not exactly locked up but I could be if that's what you were into," Bas winked and laughed, he couldn't stop his mind from wanting Topher as a hook up, even if he was wondering about the possibility of friendship. Bas had never actively sought out a friend before and he wondered if he was losing his mind; or if 'Tana really had already taken his balls.

"Save the whistle for my Fencing gear, I've got 'Tana under control. We've had a strong season but we need to win this last game. We are having a school spirit week for the lead up to the final so I hope you'll /come/ join us at some of the events." Bas responded, chuckling as Topher clearly tried to hide the returning blush. "Nothing like getting out on your own for the first time is there?" Bas nodded, he remembered heading to college for the first time and the blessing that it was to finally be making his own path, until now when he was back under his father's rule. "Oh I definitely want to see you after 4 or 5 beers, when's that happening?" He retorted with a smirk and mischievous look in his eyes.

Christopher

"Yeah, that is a pretty rare occurrence," Topher agreed then playfully rolled his eyes yet again. The conversation was definitely coming very easily and everything just seemed to fall into place, like it did with all of his loved ones. But there was definitely something gnawing at the back of his mind that he couldn't shake. All the same, he definitely would never turn down the chance for a friendship and hoped that this would help increase the amount of contact they had. He soon fired back, "That's not in my wheelhouse. Sweeping people off their feet and treating them right, whether it's platonic or romantic, then you've got the right guy."

He considered the idea of turning up to some of the spirit week events while he tried to take his mind off the other flirtatious comment. "Might be able to make some time for that. Then there something that is both amazing yet incredibly daunting about being on our own for the first time. Freedom has plenty of pros and cons to it," he rattled off then made a show of pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sometime around never. Trust me when I say that it's a disaster waiting to happen and for multiple reasons, especially now." He made a vague gesture to the cane on the other side of the bench then his right leg.

Sebastian

"Who needs a fairytale and all that love crap anyway, the real world is much more interesting anyway. Those stories are all so predictable, what would be the point in knowing exactly what's going to happen." Bas responded, just letting his thoughts roll out. He didn't care about finding love and all of the nonsense like everyone else seemed to, it only ended in ruin anyway in his experience, his parents weren't divorced but they didn't seem to love or care for him the way books and movies said kids should be loved so he was certain their marriage was a failure too. "Well if I ever find myself locked up I know who to call." Bas laughed, trying to forget all that sappy stuff.

"It will be fun, which of course you know because I will be there, and some inside knowledge for you, I'm planning an 'impromptu' winners celebration at the fraternity house on Friday, I know we are going to win so why not make sure it will be the best party?" He responded with a laugh. Sebastian had always believed he could make things happen through sheer will-power but it wasn't just will-power, it was working the team hard so nothing could ruin this for him. "Freedom is the greatest thing, you can be yourself and screw anyone who says you should hide it!" Bas retorted firmly. He had grown as a person and realized life was too short to be anything but your honest self. "Oh I'm sure it will be fun, especially if you get yourself a prince for the night to help you out." Seb laughed. "Not going to be an ass and ask what happened but you can tell me if you want," Bas shrugged, not being the best at dealing with feelings and emotions he would usually just avoid caring but after talking with Jaxon last week he was a little more confident.

Christopher

Topher nodded in agreement yet he also remarked, "Some people find comfort in things being predictable. But if you ever need bailing out of jail or some similar situation then just hit me up." He took a moment to pull his phone out then opened a new note in order to write down his phone number. He shifted the device so Sebastian could see it as he added, "Goodness knows we could all use a few more people in our corner for whatever reason."

"Well, I may have to swing by just for a little bit. I'm heading home for the holiday weekend though so I wouldn't be able to partake in celebratory drinking with everybody," Topher answered then couldn't help a bright smile when he noticed Sebastian's tone of voice. "Couldn't agree more on that. We all wear different masks and play different parts in other people's lives. Once we break away from that though and start living our truth, it's an incredible thing." It suddenly dawned on him that he hadn't exactly been the most subtle about the fact he might not be straight, but on the other hand, he couldn't bring himself to care. "Prince, princess, nonbinary royalty. Whoever is willing to keep an eye on my dumb ass for a night and prove their trustworthiness. Then as for the story, got it boiled down to a science. It was my senior year of high school, friend and I had gone to a party during winter break and were tired as hell coming home. Turns out there was another driver who was practically falling asleep behind the wheel. Rammed right into us, but the passenger side mostly which is where I was."

Sebastian

"What's the point of predictable though? Why even bother living, if I knew exactly how my life was going to end I'd just give up now." Sebastian retorted. He was more passionate about this than anyone ought to bother being but he had already been forced to change his path in life to fit his parents wishes and the idea of ending up like them made him angry to the point of tears, but he wasn't going to cry, especially not in front of a near stranger. "Is that what they say about me then? Sebastian Smythe, destined for jail. Sure I'd make a hot jail bird but I have my sights set just slightly higher." Bas laughed, though his eyes betrayed him, so many people, especially teachers, thought his attitude meant he had no work ethic and no aspirations but he surprised them all.

"Well now you've got me heartbroken Topher, I was looking forward to saving you a dance." Sebastian winked, he sure was looking forward to having some fun with the younger man sometime soon. "Yes it is, you won't ever see me hiding in a closet despite what some assholes want to say to me, and woe betide anyone who tries to mess with someone coming out around me." Bas nodded firmly. He never usually talked about his thoughts or feelings on these kinds of subjects but he felt like Topher was someone who could easily listen and not go running to tell everyone he knew.

Sebastian sat silently dumbfounded, it sounded like a horrible experience and this was definitely something he had no idea how to respond to. "But look at you now up and running," he chuckled, trying to gloss over the moment. Redirection was his usual tactic.

Christopher

Topher gave a small shrug before he responded, "Some people just like to chill out in their comfort zones and all the more power to them. But I'm personally right there with you on that note. Then I don't pay much attention to the gossip grape vine when it comes to other people. I like to base my opinion on personal experience." He lightly shook his head in mock exasperation before he added with a light chuckle, "Let me see if I can get back up to speed first then we can talk about saving each other dances. Not sound like I'm bragging, but I used to be able to tear up the dance floor in the best possible way."

He managed another chuckle before he nodded and stated, "My physical therapist told me to think of every step as a milestone. Wise words although it takes a bit longer than it used to in order to clock a mile. Totally worth it though because I got lucky and just got a slap on the wrist from lady fate. Get to keep trucking on through life, making memories, friends, whatever sappy spin somebody might want to put on it." He debated saying something else on the matter or related to a different one then instead questioned, "Do you maybe want to hang out sometime soon? Once the holiday weekend is over and all that?"

Sebastian

"Yeah I suppose they can do whatever they want...judge not lest ye be judged or something " Bas replied shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "I'm just glad to meet someone who is not as dull as everyone else the way they all follow the crowd. I know plenty of people here have opinions on me, your last name is Hummel, isn't it?" Bas chuckled, wondering what Kurt would say if he saw Sebastian talking with his brother and hitting on him.

"I'm sure you'll be running circles around the rest of the boring freshman in no time, and brag all you want, I enjoy watching a good show" Bas winked. He reached his arms out along the back of the bench and mindlessly played with the collar of Topher's shirt. Sebastian made a "hm" noise of agreement, he had distracted himself looking at Topher's neck. "Yeah fate, everything happens for a reason, something ridiculous like that.."

Sebastian grabbed Topher's phone and copied the number into his own device, "that sounds good to me,  you probably have to go home to your sappy family this weekend I expect." He responded, trying to think of all the sex he could be enjoying not the fact he didn't have a family that cared enough to ask him to come home.

Christopher

"Do unto others as you would have done unto you," Topher recited the golden rule before he rolled his eyes at his own ridiculousness. "What can I say? I'm a fan of breaking tradition then you're right on the money," he confirmed at the end then added a thumbs up in order to drive the point home. "Thank you very much for the vote of confidence. Imagine you could easily run circles around everybody here and there are so many variations of that very sappy remark, you probably hit the nail on the head with every last one you just rattled off." He definitely noticed Sebastian messing with the collar of his shirt, yet he said nothing on the subject. As long as it didn't go any further then he saw no real reason to make a fuss.

"There's nothing wrong with a little bit of sappiness, regardless of where it comes from. I enjoy some maple syrup on my pancakes from time to time," Topher attempted a joke at the end before he chuckled a hint in minor shame. "Gotta admit that I'm wondering if I'm somehow intoxicated because I rarely ever make dumb jokes like that."

Sebastian

"Oh yeah that." Sebastian smirked, "I just have to believe they were talking about fucking when they came up with that, it makes the most sense." He chuckled. Sebastian maybe more mature now but he could let an easy joke get by him. "I am glad you're breaking family tradition of hating me because that would be very upsetting. Blaine loves me but what can I say, Kurt and I just weren't meant to be." Sebastian rolled his eyes. He knew Kurt would never like him but Bas didn't care. Blaine enjoyed his company and it seemed Topher did too, and if Kurt didn't like that well that was his own problem.

"Yes I can run circles around them all, literally and metaphorically. Once you see me on that Lacrosse field you'll see." Bas smiled, he was honestly proud of his athletic accomplishments and even though he wasn't able to pursue his artistic dreams professionally he still made sure to continue it in private. Sebastian continued playing with the other mans collar and let his fingers occasionally flit across the skin at the nape of the neck.

"Don't have much experience with sap, had to find my own syrup for my pancakes as a kid" Seb laughed, enjoying the moment of shame on Topher's face at his own joke. "Don't be embarrassed, it looks good on you, clearly you don't need alcohol to have a little fun you just have to let yourself enjoy it." Bas responded, "though if you are intoxicated we will chalk it up to you being drunk on my presence," he added with an over exaggerated wink.

Christopher

"Got a case of one track mind, don't you?" Topher fired back with a laugh and gave a minor shrug as the topic changed. "Kurt's a cool guy and I'd probably say that without the bias too, yet you've honestly given me no reason to hate you. Try to base my opinion of someone off personal experience with them rather than other people's opinions. Unless of course the other people have a valid point, but that's a whole other can of worms entirely." He could only imagine the future conversation about this whole situation, yet just as easily brushed it off as future Topher's problem. He just wanted to hang out with a friend, simple as that.

"Then I'll be sure to come check out the game," he answered with a smile of his own then shivered just a hint when Sebastian's fingers grazed his neck yet the brightness never faded from his face. On the one hand, Topher should have been used to it since his exes and friends often did the same thing. On the other though, this felt different somehow and he attributed it to the returning possibility that he was being flirted with then made a note to try turning down whatever vibe he might have been giving off. "Sorry to hear that and thank you very much. Then that should be easy enough since I regularly try to keep searching for silver linings, even when it seems impossible." Topher lightly poked his tongue out at Sebastian when he noticed the wink before he aimed to carefully poke him in the side. "Watch out. You keep that up and you'll suddenly have a line of people begging for your attention."(edited)

Sebastian

"Just sharing the things I care about and nobody wants to hear about law so here we are." Seb laughed, he didn't really enjoy talking about his law classes, not that he didn't care about his major but it was a tough subject because it wasn't exactly his passion and he didn't know Topher well enough yet to talk to him about what he planned to do after graduation.

Bas listened to Topher's thoughts with interest, "I will just keep charming you and you can keep your wonderful opinions of me," he smirked just imagining Kurt's reaction to Seb flirting with his brother never mind just talking to him, but Seb wasn't just trying to get Kurt mad, he really did enjoy Topher's company.

Sebastian noticed the little shiver that ran over Topher at his touch but chose to make no comment, he didn't want to scare off the younger man so he simply continued his movements but pushed no further.

"All in the past," Seb waved off Topher's apologies. "We should make this a game; make Topher find the silver lining in whatever fucked up scenario you can think of," Bas laughed. "Wow now hey hey no violence allowed this is a school campus," Sebastian teased, swatting at Topher's hand as he tried to poke him. "The line is currently forming behind you, can't you see it? It's running all the way through the gardens and out around the main building there," he replied mock trying to point out a line of people in the distance.

Christopher

"Well, whatever you want to talk about, I'm more than happy to lend an ear." It was the truth because Topher truly did enjoy listening to his loved ones talk about their interests. There was something about the passion that made him smile up a storm as he paid attention. "And aren't you a sweetheart? Breaking out the charm for little old me?" He continued to keep his attention locked on the matter at hand although some of the words for his replies died on the tip of his tongue when he noticed that Sebastian's movements hadn't ceased. "You're making my brain short circuit, you know that? Not a bad thing. Just pointing it out."

Topher chuckled then answered, "I'd be more than happy to take up the challenge." He glanced around in the direction Sebastian pointed in and decided to keep the joke rolling just a bit longer. "Yeah, think they're making signs too, like you're a rockstar. Can't wait to see what they come up with as they start getting closer," he added before he turned back around just in time for his phone to buzz with a reminder. "Damn, forgot that I've got a study group coming to meet me in my dorm. Care to walk me back?"

Sebastian

"Even if I want to go back to telling you how fuckable you are?" Bas teased, half wanting to see that blush again and half testing if the other boy really meant what he said because Seb wasn't one to trust and believe easily and sexualization humor was his best redirection method. "Oh count yourself special, I don't bring out the charm for just anyone, only the most handsome princes' get that privilege," Bas laughed, hinting back to their previous conversation about princes' and princesses.   "I would be lying if I said that wasn't at least part of my plan," he smirked, not removing his hand but carrying on with massaging movements and letting his hand run through the hair at the nape of Topher's neck.

"Then I shall start coming up with scenarios as soon as possible." Bas laughed.

Sebastian pretended to fan himself like women in old movies "I'm just so overcome with joy at the turn out of fans today," he joked, imitating the old 'proper' accents from back in the early years of cinema.

"It would be my honor, Sir Topher," Bas replied, keeping up his act. He jumped to his feet and picked up his bag of gear from lacrosse before standing in front of Topher holding a hand out to help him stand with a half bow like a gentleman.

Christopher

As if on cue, Topher's cheeks lit up pink and he gently pinched the bridge of his nose in a joking manner yet again. "But I do mean it. Anything that is on your mind then feel free to tell me about it either in person or over the phone." The sincerity was real in his tone, it easily revealed that he was telling the truth about always being more than happy to listen to a loved one speak. "Making my brain short circuit was part of the plan all along you say? Should've know you were a movie villain all along," he returned the joke.

A minor laughter attack took over before he gave a grateful smile and accepted Sebastian's hand. "Thank you very much Sir Sebastian," he responded in the same old fashioned proper accent before he aimed to grab his cane from the other side of the bench. Once it was back in his hand, he stopped to grab his guitar case. "It's not too far a walk from here, but you can stick around if you want? It'd be just a few pretentious freshmen trading short stories and giving peer reviews, but I'm pretty great at hanging out with friends while studying."

Sebastian

"I will remember that Topher, just keep in mind I do drink most nights so you just signed yourself up to be on my drunk dial list." Sebastian laughed in a strained sort of way, unable to hide the fact he was only half joking. He didn't much like to admit to needing people to talk to, or that he drank more than he probably should but at this point in talking to Topher he knew his secrets were safe.

"Of course it was, how else am I going to get my disney prince into my bed." Seb winked. "Sure I'm the villain of the story, I'm trying to lure you to my evil lair remember." This time his laugh was jenuine, he was having actual fun with Topher.

Sebastian played with Topher's fingers for a moment, brushing his thumb over the soft back of Topher's hand but suddenly dropped it as if he had been given an electric shock. This was not the was Sebastian Smythe acted. Bas returned the playful smirk to his face and gave a small bow "Any time my prince, lead the way to your tower." He responded, giving his assent to hang out with Topher a little longer. "I need to stop at the cafeteria to get something to eat first though." He said as his stomach reminded him of the reason he was cutting through the garden today to begin with.

Christopher

Topher gave a small shrug before he answered, "That's fine by me, but I do feel obligated to at least mention the phrase drink responsibly." Then another minor laughter attack escaped at Sebastian's joke before he straightened up once more in order to get started on the journey. "You're not the villain of my story, that's for sure," he remarked with an easygoing smile as he adjusted to having the weight of his guitar case in his hands again.

But before that, when his hand had been relinquished, some odd type of feeling invaded both his mind as well as his heart. Topher managed to brush it off in time to catch what had been said next. "I will happily lead the way. There are also plenty of unhealthy along with healthy snacks to take your pick from when we get there. But if you'd rather swing by the cafeteria first then that's cool too. Could bring something back for my study group while we're at it, make up for being late."

Sebastian

"I'm very responsible Mr Hummel. I have my gallon of water and motrin ready for the morning and two packs of condoms on the nightstand so don't you worry your little head." Seb smirked, glad to steer away from exposing himself emotionally. "I can be if you want, I'm sure it's more fun that way, I'll be anyone but the lame sidekick." Bas joked, he saw Topher readjusting with his cane and Guitar case and reached over grabbing the bulky case from the young man, not that he didn't think Topher was capable of carrying it but why let him when Seb only had one bag slung over his shoulder so he had two free hands.

"Have you ever played Lacrosse Topher Hummel? I need more than a snack to replenish all the energy I have just exerted running that field. I need food." Seb replied firmly walking determinedly in the direction of the cafeteria. "If you insist we can feed your freshman friends too. I hope they aren't really lame Topher because I'll get board."

Christopher

"Then I have no complaints," Topher replied before he gave a tiny shrug in response. "Sidekicks don't always have to be lame, but that's just me. Either way though, happy to have you along for the ride." One of his eyebrows quirked up when Sebastian started to take his guitar case and he opened his mouth to protest then decided against it as a grateful smile appeared on his face once again. "Thank you very much and in the interest of being honest, I have not played lacrosse. But I did play soccer and was on the swim team in high school, plus I did archery then as well, so can only imagine what a drain that might be."

As he followed after Sebastian toward the cafeteria, Topher reassured, "My friends definitely aren't lame. We're more of a wild, ragtag bunch that just so happened to come together by some chain of events. It's even balance of light and dark humor in the group too, plus the jokes just keep coming a mile a minute. But to each their own with opinions and I'll let you be the judge of your own experience with them."

Sebastian

"Somehow I didn't think you would, I like to have fun but I don't want to die." Seb replied. He was a lot more reckless when he was younger but now he was also focused on his future. "There's a reason they are called sidekicks not partners. I will take evil genius though, I did have a cat so I fit perfectly into the role," Bas laughed. "No problem, maybe one day when you're leg is better I'll teach you, I've never done archery, you must have some great arm and back muscles for that," Seb said thoughtfully looking over the man walking beside him. "Since we are friends now you must have good taste so I'm not too worried" Bas commented with a smirk, there was always the chance he did get some of what he considered the negative Hummel traits but so far Topher seemed rather different to Kurt. "I will judge and let you know what I think, but I did get you laughing so I will take your word when you say they are amusing."  Sebastian walked a head a little eyeing the food ahead of him suddenly feeling like he hadn't eaten all day.

Christopher

"Nothing wrong with having fun, but we're all definitely too young to die," Topher agreed. He chuckled a hint at the mental picture of young Sebastian with a cat and decided to save it for a rainy day. The Creative Writing major gently cleared his throat after a few moments then remarked, "Gotta say that's a pretty funny picture to think about." When the topic got switched back to his leg, he added, "It's actually healed for the most part. The cane was just recommended because my leg is still prone to giving out at random moments. Then I'd be more than happy to teach you archery?" His bright smile turned gentle and he shook his head in a joking manner once he noticed the smirk. "Not sure if I've said this already, but I feel like this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Sebastian

"Too young and hot I think you meant Topher." Seb chuckled, he wasn't going to let their conversation get too serious, death was a strange subject for Sebastian, he didn't have much experience with it on a personal level but even his tough shell could be broken by many of the heartbreaking stories in the news. "She was a beauty and would have eaten you alive for saying that." Bas stuck out his tongue, his pet was one of the few souls he had loved unconditionally in his life. Bas listened interested as Topher explained a little more about his injury, not something you would find Sebastian Smythe do often was listening. "We should wait on the Lacrosse but learning something new is what I excel at," Bas winked, "I'd be happy to have you as my teacher." he responded in a sultry tone, ever making the inappropriate jokes. "It's something beautiful that's for damn certain." He replied running his eye over Topher's body shamelessly. "Come on Topher, let's get back to your dorm before they start making rumors of where you have been hanging out with that bad Sebastian Smythe."

Christopher

Another laugh escaped from Topher, but this one was just a hint more gentle due to the heavy subject matter. "I honestly have no doubt about that. One of my best friends from back home had a cat and I can't tell you how many times I wished for one. Same thing goes for a dog 'cause both are equally adorable." He gave a nod of approval at the current plans being set up then added, "Just let me know whenever you're free and I'll either tell you to swing by my dorm to hang out for a bit or to swing by the archery range in order to learn a little something new." A faint pink blush tinted his cheeks yet he managed to not the color deepen to tomato red like he might have earlier in the conversation. "The bad Sebastian Smythe? I highly doubt that," he fired back as they continued on their journey.

[idolimagines]

My Boyfriend’s Brother (M)

PART 1 PART 2 

Genre: college au, romance

Length: 6.3K

Warning: Contains sexual scenes and violence in some chapters 

“You may have grown up together, but you’re nothing like your brother.”

“So if you look to your right, the administration building is just down that road.” The cheery tour guide announced. Opening your pamphlet, you look at the map and see what seems like an endless amount of stops left to view on campus.

“I see a cloud, do you think it’ll rain?” Sana pouts as she stares up at the sky. With a laugh you glance over at her. “It’s a sunny day, there’s no chance of rain.”

“A girl can dream, can’t she?” She sighs as you link your arms together. “There’s not that many stops left. Besides, it says from here we get to see our dorm building.”

With that Sana’s face lights up and the two of you continue to walk with the group of Freshman who seem to all be tired of walking endlessly around campus all morning.

“Here, up the hill we are reaching the university park. Students often play sports and have gatherings here as it’s right outside our dormitories.”

Your eyes grew wide, gazing around the park as you spotted a large group of guys playing soccer in the middle of the field. It seemed like they were playing a game of shirts vs. skins as they were evenly divided with five guys on each team.

“Suddenly I’m awake,” Sana chimes in with a devilish smirk as she and a few other girls in your group gawk at the men from afar. You gripped your attention away from the soccer guys and tried to pay attention to the tour guide – noting how he was explaining important information about the dorm you all would be staying in for your first year of college.

As the tour guide was speaking, his nose crinkled as he noticed the lack of attention he was getting and spoke up a little louder. “I’ll let you know now that this is a girls only dormitory – which means absolutely no boys allowed.” He announced in a stern tone, eyes darting from your group and then to the soccer boys nearby.

With that, he knew he had gotten some of the attention back as a slew of “Aw’s” came from the group, including Sana who stomped her foot in defiance.

You clutched her arm tight and smiled at her antics until you heard some shouting from the field. “I’m open! I’m open!” One of the guys yell as he comes from behind and retrieves the ball from a teammate. You watch as he swiftly kicks the ball and moves along the others, showing off by using a few fancy tricks just before kicking it into the goal.

As soon as it hit the net, he and his shirtless friends shouted and ran around the field as the shirts team had seemingly been defeated. “Minho! Minho! Minho!” You heard amongst the cheers as they squirted a few water bottles at him.

The man you assumed to be Minho smiled widely and shook his wet hair before running a hand through it and pushing the dark locks out of his face. His skin held a beautiful tan and his body was toned as the water dripped from his hair and down the expanse of his abs.

“Y/N,” Sana called out, suddenly grabbing your attention as you snapped your head around to your friend. She was a few feet away and waving at you to catch up with the group as they were headed to the next stop. Her shout had caught the guys attention, causing them to suddenly look over at you.

Including Minho.

With the sudden attention you felt the heat rush to your cheeks and snapped your head to turn back to your friend, intent on getting back to your group as you ran over.

“I thought I was supposed to be the distracted one,” she laughed while crossing her arms. “By the way, that guy is staring at you.” She added.

“What guy-” You huffed just before turning around one last time to the field.

And that’s when you saw Minho still looking at you. He held a small smile as he gazed your way, settled on you and interested in whatever you were doing as you and Sana began to walk away.

He was handsome – far too handsome and it almost hurt to look away as you left.

But at last you had lucked out, as towards the end of your orientation you had coincidently run into Minho in the parking lot.

“Hey!” He called out to you, spotting you nearby as you walked with Sana.

You and Sana were babbling on about the new furniture you were going to buy for the dorm until you heard the call once more. “Are they calling out to us?” She asked just as she halted mid-step.

“Who knows?” You concluded without looking as you proceeded to walk. “What theme color should we go for? I’m thinking mint or baby pink?”

Following your lead, Sana decided to keep walking as well. “Baby pink sounds nice,” she answered before you heard the call again.

“Hey! Girl in the red shirt!” He shouted more specifically before you heard a vehicle coming from behind.

“Oh, someone wants your attention.” You teased your friend before she laughed.

“Dummy, I’m wearing pink – it’s you he’s calling…” Sana corrected, and your smile quickly faded as you looked down only to remember that you were in fact wearing a red shirt.

Shit.

So having enough of this cat and mouse game, you finally turned around to see the culprit when the door-less jeep he was in just so happened to stop next to you and Sana.

And to your surprise, it was Minho.

He had changed from the last time you’d seen him on the field. Dressed in a simple green tank and cargo shorts. His dark hair fell lazily against his head and his eyes were covered with black shades as he eyed you.

Now finally having your attention, he suddenly became short for words, seeing your beauty up close was better than expected and he simply feigned a cheeky smile upon your presence.

“You watched our game earlier, right?” He asked.

A sweep of heat abruptly came across your cheeks as you felt embarrassed that he caught you. “…Yeah.”

Realizing this, Sana pursed her lips as her eyes went wide with delight. “I’m going to let you two talk.” She whispered to you with a sly wiggle of her brows before rushing for the car only a few feet away.

Minho chuckled as he watched her leave, merely leaving the two of you alone as he put his jeep in park and got off to see you.

You then looked up to him as his height towered over your own, suddenly becoming a bit anxious as he came closer.

“I wanted to talk to you afterwards, but you disappeared.” He mentioned, and you nodded your head, “Yeah, um my friend and I are actually here for orientation.” You stated.

“Freshman?” He blurted in surprise and you crinkled your brows.

“I’m guessing you’re a Junior?”

“Senior.” He corrected, and you let out a knowing ah in response.  

“Well nice meeting you-” you politely started before he said, “Minho.”

“Minho.” You repeated aloud, causing him to crack a wide smile at how sweet his name sounded coming from you.

“I guess It’d only be fair to tell you my name then,” you said, and he laughed.

“Please.” Minho teased. “It’d be a lot easier than calling you, “the girl in the red shirt.”  

“Is that how you call all the girls when you first talk to them? By their shirt colors?” You asked, and he nervously ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, no. Just the one I’m interested in now.” Minho answered, and you smiled.

“It’s Y/N.”

But just as you said it, a car from behind Minho’s jeep angrily honked at the two of you as the driver threw his hand out at Minho and said, “Move your damn car!”

Minho rolled his eyes as he looked back at the driver and put his hand up as if telling him to wait. “Sorry, what was it?” He asked casually.

“It’s Y/N,” you repeated, and he grinned.

“Well, Y/N. I hate to cut things short, but our friend over here can’t wait any longer.” He sarcastically commented, eliciting a giggle from you before he took out his phone. “Do you mind if I get your number?”

Within a few seconds, you typed your number in, saving your name as well before handing it back to him. “I’ll call you later,” he declared before rushing to his jeep.

“Later,” you hummed as you walked back to Sana.

~*~

It was the first day of class and you walked in with the biggest shit eating grin on your face - unable to control it even as you attempted to press your lips hard together to cover it up.

“Uh-oh” Sana gasped as she patted the seat next to her. “What happened?”

 “You’ll never believe it,” you cheekily grinned while setting your bag down beside you and plopping into the seat.

 Sana’s eyes grew wide in response. “Believe what? Tell me!”

 You looked at her, eager to reveal all.

 But just as you were about to open your mouth to spill the story, you couldn’t help but notice a familiar face enter the room after a few other students.

 Even wearing jeans and a simple tee, he stood out from the others – standing well above 6 feet and with a prominent athletic build that some could only dream of. His hair was a mix of dark brown and honey hues while his healthy tan skin seemingly glowed under the light.

 “Y/N,” Sana called before catching the sudden distressed look on your face. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, not because he was handsome but rather because of who he was, as he was in fact Lucas.

 Lucas gazed around the room, nonchalantly searching for an open seat as the large class was nearly full. It was Public Speaking, meaning that the class was a general education requirement and that meant anyone, and everyone had to take it at some point in their college career.

So you discreetly watched as the man searched before his dark eyes suddenly found their way to you.

 Upon first sight you noticed his pupils noticeably dilated as his eyes grew wide - showing as surprise to seeing you there.  It hadn’t been long since you last seen him, but it was strange that somehow you two had ended up attending the same International University.

 Breaking the sudden gaze, he then found interest in the seat next to yours as it just so happened to be the only one left in the class.

 Noticing this, he felt his body stiffen up as he then made his way up the stairs and headed your way - waving to a few people who called out his name upon recognition.

 You groaned inwardly, shook your head and moved a little closer to Sana on your right as he asked, “Is this seat taken?”

Without another word, Lucas sat down beside you and a sigh was heard as whoever happen to be sitting in the row behind him would no longer be able to see the board.

The man didn’t seem to mind though, given as he was probably used to being the tallest one in his classes.

You sat up a little straighter in your seat and tried to mentally calm your nerves down as he could probably feel the growing amount of uneasiness that was eliciting off you.

“Y/N!” Sana called once more and nudged you from the side. “Tell me what happened!”

With a shrug you turned to her while ignoring the man beside you and smiled. “…I have a date tomorrow night.”

 “HE ASKED YOU OUT?” Sana nearly screamed in delight and you feverishly nodded as she started muttering exclamations in Japanese out of excitement.

 “I can’t believe you’re going to go out with a senior.” She gushed. “And it’s only the first day of school.”

 Lucas raised a thick brow and couldn’t help but listen in to your conversation as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone.

“I can’t believe it either, I’m still going through different phases of shock.” You giggled.

 “Tell me you have something cute planned to wear,” Sana pleaded with a heavy sigh.

 You took a second to gasp in response, “Of course. Do you think I’d show up in sweats or something?”

Sana looked at you up and down, taking the time to prove her point as she signaled to the pants you were wearing. “With you - you never know,” she admitted and you laughed.

 “Where is he taking you?”

“I don’t know yet. He said it’d be a surprise so I’m sure it’ll be something sweet and romantic.” You fantasized with a dreamy look.

Hearing this, Lucas rolled his eyes before the professor walked into the class. “Good morning,” she called out while setting her belongings onto the front desk. “This is public speaking so if you’re in the wrong class I suggest now be the time to leave.”

A few snickers were heard as a student sitting on Lucas’ other side groaned in realization while re-checking her schedule. You watched as she grabbed her things and quickly left in embarrassment.

“That sucks,” Sana whispered and you nodded before Lucas just so happened to turn to the side and look at you.

The sudden look caught you by surprise and you quickly faced forward as the professor began to go over the syllabus, not daring to even glance to your left anymore for the next hour.

 For the next few months, you hadn’t said much to each other or paid attention to him – which he made easy as he was always skipping anyways.

Lucas was never around and you found yourself becoming less concerned with him anyways as soon as you had started dating the senior soccer star Minho, who urged you to come meet his family within just two months of dating.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whined as you nervously twisted the charm on your bracelet. “Don’t say that, my parents will love you.” Your boyfriend chimed with a reassuring smile.

For a moment you stayed silent, letting only the sound of crickets chirping in the night fill your ears before asking, “How can you be so sure?”

“Y/N. I know my parents, trust me on this one will ya?” He added and with that you slowly nodded your head in response. “If you say so,” you squeaked before he laughed and cupped your cheeks with his palms. “I know so,” the handsome man assured and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

You couldn’t help but smile in relief before taking a deep breath as you then followed him inside his parent’s home. It was a beautiful place with chandeliers adorning the hall leading into the living room. You were quick to spot a woman who you presumed to be his mother as her eyes lit up. “Hun, Minho is home!” She announced while walking up to the two of you in delight.

“Hi mom,” your boyfriend grinned before wrapping his arms around in her in a tight embrace. She playfully scolded him as he lifted her off the ground just as his dad came from around the corner to greet him.

“Dad,” Minho called as he moved towards his father. “Have you been well?”

His father simply smiled as he wrapped a single arm around his son, patting his back in the process as he said, “Yes, yes. It’s been a while.” The older man answered him before looking over at you.

You had been standing there semi-awkwardly, watching the cheerful interaction between your boyfriend and his parents before Minho held your hand and introduced you. “Mom, dad – this is who’ve I’ve been blabbering about for the past few months.” He began just as you bowed to them in respect.

“Ah she’s even more beautiful than I expected,” his mother smiled as she placed a hand over her mouth. Running a hand through your hair, you shyly thanked her and his father for inviting you over before she ushered everyone to the table to eat.

Minho pulled a chair out for you next to him as his father sat at the head of the table while Minho’s mother brought out a tray holding a variety of freshly prepared meats and soups.

But while sitting there, you couldn’t help but notice the empty seat in front of you, seeing it as the only one left and standing out as Minho’s mother sat at the chair right beside it.

Noticing your stare, Minho suddenly stops pouring a glass of tea and speaks up, “Where’s he at?”

Hearing this, your eyes divert their attention to Minho’s father – who sighs as soon as Minho asks.

“…Your brother is coming.” The man informed. “He knows it’s important that he be here.”

Minho huffed and continued to pour the tea for you first. “We’ll just eat without him then,” he stated as soon as his mother sat down.

Noticing the annoyed look on your boyfriend’s face, you rubbed his arm. “Minho, maybe we should wait a little – if he said he’ll be here, then he’ll be here.”

“He’s known about this for weeks-” Minho countered and as if on cue, the front door opened – gaining everyone’s attention to the newcomer.

“Speak of the devil,” Minho’s father announced as he flattened his napkin.

There was a buildup of anticipation as a trail of loud footsteps crept down the hall. “Finally,” Minho grunted before standing out of his chair, getting up as soon as the newcomer entered the dining room.

You had a small smile adorning your face, ready to finally meet Minho’s brother, Yukhei for the first time. While dating, Minho had mentioned him numerous times – talking about their close bond despite not actually being blood related as his brother was adopted as a baby.

So, you were excited to meet the guy – being Minho’s brother must’ve meant he was just as great and kind as it seemed to run in the family. Minho had explained before that he was a freshman in college just like you, but the name didn’t ring a bell as you couldn’t recall a Yukhei being in any of your classes.

“Sorry I’m late,” you heard a deep voice announce as soon as he entered, causing your eyes to snap up.

However, as soon as they landed on the man your smile immediately faded and your lips parted in shock. “Luc-?” You nearly blurted out in shock before pressing your lips shut tight.

He was standing there, dressed in a simple black shirt and ripped jeans. Contrary to his rugged attire, his dark brown hair was parted to the side while his handsome face held a rich tan that suited perfectly against the deep red hue his full lips naturally held.

Just like Minho he was incredibly tall, and you only noticed the height comparison when he greeted his older brother with a handshake and a quick hug.

“You seem out of breath,” Minho commented to the younger.

“Track practice ran late,” he answered just as he looked ahead of Minho as you stood up.

And that’s when he saw you.

Just like you, he held the same look of obscene – quirking a thick brow and pursing his lips as he couldn’t hold in his reaction.

You winced at his look, narrowing your eyes as if daring him to say something stupid while Minho was about to introduce the two of you.

But it was too late as your boyfriend had already caught on to his brother’s estranged vibe, making him turn to you as well. “Wait - Do you two already know each other?”

“No!” you two blurted at the same time.

Hearing this, Minho paused for a second before urging Lucas to go over and greet you.

“Y/N this is my brother, Yukhei. Yukhei this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

You felt your body tense up as Lucas came forward, extending his hand to yours as you oh-so graciously shook it. “Nice to meet you, Yukhei” you said with a fake smile.

“You as well,” he mummed through gritted teeth. “But you can call me Lucas.”

“Is that what most people call you?” You asked, pretending to be oblivious and his jaw tightened.

“…It’s what everyone besides my family calls me.” He answered while staring at you and you simply feigned yet another smile.

“Good to know,” you added.

Minho and his parents simply stared at the two of you, feeling as if you could cut the tension with a knife before Minho loudly cleared his throat.

“Alright then, let’s eat shall we?”

Without another word, you stepped back and carefully sat in your seat as Lucas spotted the empty chair in front of you and slumped right in. His long legs bumped into yours from under the table and you narrowed your eyes at him from across before he took the hint and sat up a little straighter.

However, your scowl quickly faded as Minho suddenly passed a small cup of tea for you to drink, “Thank you,” you cooed beside him with a smile while Lucas watched the encounter. The younger kept a stiff expression, not giving the slightest hint to what he was thinking before grabbing a pair of chopsticks and serving himself.

“How did practice go, Yukhei?” His father asked, looking at him while placing a piece of meat in his mouth.

“Fine.” Lucas quickly answered, not bothering to look up.

Gazing up at him from across the table, you noticed his stiff posture – sitting awkwardly straight and keeping his eyes on the food while his parents and Minho began bragging of how good of a track star he was.

“I’m not that good,” Lucas bashfully interjected before Minho scoffed.

“Please, you only placed first in the whole district. Good would be an understatement.” He chimed followed by a few laughs from his parents.

Amid laughter, you caught sight of the shy smile Lucas held before he ejected the praise towards his older brother. “What about you jockhead? I heard your team is going to finals.”

“Four years in a row,” Minho grinned proudly. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to them when I graduate this year.”

“You seem so sure you’re going to win.” His mother scoffs while she sips at her wine.

“We got a pretty good team, mom…so far I’d say it’s been a pretty great senior year.” Minho chimes before looking at you beside him and flashing you one of those heart bursting smiles.

You couldn’t help but reciprocate the expression, catching his look before shyly looking away as the attention was now on you.

But while averting your gaze, you had suddenly caught another pair of eyes on you from across the table. Lucas had been watching the interaction between you and Minho, not meaning to necessarily stare but rather being unable to take his eyes off the way his brother made you blush.

In that split second you held his stare, looking into those dark orbs that held so much mystery beneath. It was an intimate slice of time, both looking but without a word to say.

“I’m sure you’re tired of all this sports talk,” Minho’s dad announced – causing both you and Lucas to abruptly break the secret stare.

“No it’s fine really,” you attempted to persuade before Minho’s mother began to speak from the other side.

“Why don’t you tell us about yourself. Are you from here?” The woman curiously asked, causing all the attention to be on you once more.

“I’m actually from a small town in the countryside.” You replied. “But my mother had me attend private school here in the city as she works as an advisor within the district.”

Suddenly the word, private school caught the attention of the parents – causing the boy’s mother to  cock a thin brow. “Oh which one? My boys attended private school as well.”

You gulped as your breath hitched in your throat, feeling a sense of nerves pinching at your skin as goosebumps rose to the surface. You could feel all eyes on you except from across the table, where Lucas was shamefully looking down instead.

You hadn’t realized how hard you had been biting on your lip before you felt the pain of the piercing of flesh succumb to your senses.

“…Kyung…” you barely muttered out.

“Really! Minho and Lucas went there too.” She screeched with a loud clap and you gave her a semi-awkward smile before Minho finally spoke up.

“Small world isn’t it? Shame, I never saw you around or else I would have asked you out sooner.” He gushed before his father laughed at his son’s adamancy.

“Well Minho tells me you’re the same age as Lucas,” his mother stated. “You’re in the same grade but this is your first-time meeting?”

“It’s a big school.” Lucas suddenly answered, and you snapped your attention to him.

“Well surely you could have met at class gatherings-” She started before Lucas slapped down his utensils and abruptly bolted out of his seat. “Where are you going?”

“I forgot something in the locker room,” he hastily replied while heading out the door.

“Yukhei can’t it wait? We have a guest!” She argued.

Upon seeing this, Minho narrowed his brows at his brother’s antics while mumbling the word “prick” before turning to his mother and telling her to just let him go.

“Mom forget him. You saw how fast he got up – he’s probably going to see a girl.” He suggested and you moved uncomfortably in your seat before watching the lights of what you assumed to be Lucas’ car light up outside.

And before you knew it, he was off – leaving everyone in a fit of annoyance and confusion as all that was left in front of you now was the unfinished meal he had left behind.

~*~

You sat down casually and brought out your notebooks, ready to start the day early as you were one of the first to arrive to class.

 Your eyes glanced at your phone screen near you, quickly reading over the text Sana had sent you.

Sana: “Missing class today. Not feeling well :’(“

 “Hope you feel better soon” you typed out just as you felt a presence beside you.

 “So my brother, huh?” Lucas blurted out as he slammed his books on the desk.

 Hearing this, you narrowed your brows. “I didn’t know…”

 “Am I supposed to believe that?” He hissed while plopping into his seat. You finally looked at him, arms crossed and all as his tone was infuriating you by the second.

 “Believe what you want. I’m telling you the truth.”

 The man shot you an annoyed look, pursing his lips as he said, “How could you have not known-”

“Gah Lucas! I think maybe if I would have known your real name that would have helped a little - and I don’t know if you remember in that little brain of yours, but I recall trying to stay the hell away from you all throughout grade school.”

 “You know it wasn’t personal.”

 “Seems personal when you rejected me in front of all your friends,” you snapped and he lowered his gaze.

 “Do you know how embarrassing that was for me,” You whimpered. “I had the biggest crush on you and instead of a simple “no” you let your friends do all the talking and laugh at me for even thinking I had a chance.” You added, “They called me every name in the book and did you ever think to say a word?”

Hearing this, Lucas was at a loss for words as the memory came to light. He remembered the devastating look on your face - flushed and filled with absolute embarrassment as his immature friends made fun of you.

 He felt bad, horrible even. But despite his friend’s cruel antics did he ever think to say a word? No - for he himself was too embarrassed to admit that he liked you as well: the studious girl who, unlike other girls your age hadn’t reached puberty yet and was a shrimp for size, who had only a few close friends and preferred having her nose stuck in a book rather than going to a party that lasted till 3am.

 Back then, Lucas was trying to fit in and his reputation at school was becoming increasingly more popular amongst the students. He was the cross-country track star, the anchor of his relay team and number one high jumper in the district.

 He was the guy that would go to fan meets and meet celebrities of his choosing and instead of fans coming to take pictures of the celebrity, they’d be taking pictures of him - the handsome pretty boy instead.

Needless to say, he enjoyed the attention and ever-growing popularity status. But since that dreadful day at school, he noticed you had stayed away from him. You used to help him with his homework every day after school but now you had avoided him completely - not even uttering a word to him when he’d still have the gall to ask if “tutoring was still on” for the evening.

 You had come to the harsh realization that maybe you were “dreaming”. Maybe you just needed a harsh reality check to come to matters that you and the oh-so popular Lucas were never compatible in the first place - despite how sweet you believed him to be whenever it was just the two of you.

 So every day since you avoided him as you never wanted to go through that type of humiliation again.

And it was with these haunting memories that clouded your minds until the professor enter the class and began her lesson.

 You shoved the past to the back of your mind and began diligently writing down notes as Lucas stared at the blank piece of notebook paper in front of him - taking a second to glance at you occasionally.

 “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

 Your lip quivered at his sudden words. “Forget it,” you countered, unable to pick your head up as you were afraid to be vulnerable as he would only see the sincere hurt in your eyes.

 Lucas studied you for a second, spotting the flushed look on your cheeks before opening his mouth to speak once more. “I mean it,” he urged, and you slapped down your pen before finally looking at him.

 And sure enough when you did, he was able to see the expression your face held as he was only inches apart from you.

 Your eyes bore into his, not breaking the stare even as your orbs were on the verge of tears while you said, “Lucas. Stop.”

 His expression softened upon seeing you - taking all that was in him to not apologize a thousand times over again as he realized it would only get him nowhere.

 What’s done is done. He thought. You can’t take the past away.

 After that the man didn’t utter a single word to you, only leaving you to your thoughts and feelings as you struggled to concentrate and write down the rest of the day’s lecture notes.

And as soon as the professor dismissed class you were the first one to run out - desperate to get away from the man you hated before he could see your tears.

 ~*~

For the next few days you and Lucas didn’t speak in class. He didn’t bother you like you initially thought he would but instead gave you the space you had basically demanded last time.

 You noticed he was scribbling in his notebook throughout class, bored out of his mind as he would doodle meaningless shapes and faces.

 Glancing back to your own notes, you couldn’t help but realize that even after all these years he hadn’t changed his habits. Even back then, Lucas hated sitting in a class and would often entertain his boredom by drawing or sleeping.

 “That’ll be it for today’s lecture. You have a quiz on Monday so make sure you study chapters 7 and 8.” Your professor concluded her lecture, suddenly catching Lucas’ attention as he snapped his head up with wide eyes.

 Feeling defeated, he mumbled a curse and looked at the useless drawings he had created rather than notes for the quiz.

 You found yourself side-eyeing the man, biting your lip as you dealt with your inner struggle. Your initial reaction was to automatically offer to share your notes and help him study. However, the other side of you figured it’d be better to just leave him on his own, given your past experiences.

 Why should I help him? It’s his fault? You kept thinking as you began packing your things.

 It was this mindset that you found yourself leaning more towards - feeling a sense of selfishness overcome you as you had too many things on your plate to help him anyways.

But you noticed Lucas was already zipping up his backpack and getting out of his seat, following the last few remaining students outside before you instinctively called out to him. “Lucas!”

 He turned around upon hearing his name and it was at that moment you had realized what you’d done.

 You don’t know what suddenly overcame you, but It was as if you simply couldn’t ignore your instincts and let him fall behind. As much as you tried, you knew you weren’t the type of person to ignore someone in need – no matter the past consequences.

 So you grabbed your things and quickly rushed down the steps before catching up to him at the doorway. He looked confused for a moment, not understanding why you were even talking to him in the first place after how well things went last time.

 “About the quiz on Monday,” you muttered. “I’m willing to help you-” You started and Lucas scrunched his nose in response. “What makes you think I need help?” He asked defensive and you sighed.

 “I know you didn’t take notes in class,” you admitted and he huffed in response, too proud to acknowledge it before you took his glare as a sign and gave up.

 “Alright fine, I tried.” You threw your hands up in the air in defeat – conscious cleared and all before heading into the busy hallway.

 Suddenly watching you leave, Lucas’ eyes grew wide and he mentally scolded himself while coming to the realization that maybe at this moment his grade was worth more than his pride. He searched amongst students in the hallway, spotting you pretty fast before heading straight over.

 However, he was blocked by a group of people crowding over half of the hall as they gathered around a single man shouting some ridiculous theory about vampires existing – and how he was put on this Earth to “save humanity” while holding a handful of garlic gloves in his hands.

 “Get a life Mark!” Some students called out to the man as Lucas swiftly passed by.

 “What the hell?” Lucas mumbled, eyeing the crowd before making his way through. You halted just as Lucas came in front of you, nearly startling your peaceful state as his tall frame blocked your own. “Can I help you?” You hissed.

 “Just this once,” he blurted. “I’ll admit I wasn’t paying attention.”

 You cocked a brow and although had something sarcastic to say in the back of your mind, held it in as you could see the look of desperation in his eyes.

 “-and I know I don’t deserve your help,” he added. “But I’d appreciate it if you did this one last time.”

 You stared at him, noticing the sincerity in his tone and the look in his eyes that had you suddenly remembering why you had fallen for him in the first place all those years ago.

 But that same look had quickly disappeared just as Lucas spotted someone coming from behind you. “Hi beautiful,” Minho called as he placed an arm around you, catching you unexpectedly off guard as you looked up to him.

 “Hey,” you smiled just as Minho looked to Lucas.

 “Hey lil bro,” he greeted. “I see you two are becoming friends.”

 “We’re in the same class, so we’re thinking of studying for the quiz together.” You informed and Minho casually acknowledged.

 “Good. Yukhei needs all the help he can get,” Minho added with a laugh and you looked down as Lucas rolled his eyes.

 “Oh, so what happened at dinner?” Minho added, signaling towards his brother.

 Lucas looked uncomfortable as he then glanced to you and then back to Minho, “I told you I left something in my locker,” he repeated and Minho nodded before stepping forward and ruffling the younger’s hair. “Liar, I know you went and met a girl.” He teased as Lucas slapped his hand away.

 “Whoever it is, tell her to be more patient and wait till after dinner,” Minho scolded, causing the younger to huff. “My girlfriend is more important.” He added while shooting a smile your way.

 Lucas attempted to hold his reaction in and instead only showed an emotionless look as he then eyed you. “When are you available?”

 “I’m free tomorrow,” you answered and he bit his lip.

 “I have a track meet, but I’m out at six if you want to study then,” he suggested and you nodded.

 “So about 6 then?” You asked and he agreed.

 “I’ll see you in the common room,” Lucas added before bidding his brother goodbye and leaving the two of you as the content look on his face quickly disappeared into one of jealousy…

[somuchtowrite]

27 for the short stories?

27. write about two twins, onewho’s a superhero and one who’s a super villain.

this one was wayyy too much fun. first of all, i love writing twins because sibling dynamics, and second of all, superheroes?? sign me up!! also, sorry if there are a bunch of combined words?? apparently when you copy and paste from microsoft word it gets all weird on mobile://

(looking back at this i definitely use italics way too muck skskksk)

words: 1367

“Ow! Jesus, watch it!” Red Lightning yelled as a piece of stray glass sliced her arm. The blood soaked into her sleeve, blending into the crimson fabric as if it wasn’t there at all. It was just a tiny cut, sure, but even if she couldn’t see it, she could certainly feel it.

“I did watch it, and as usual, I hit right on target,” her nemesis said as she pranced out of reach, narrowly missing a punch right in the gut.

Red Lightning rolled her eyes. “You weren’t even aiming! Did you even mean to break the window, or was it an accident like you?”

“What? You were the accident!”

“I’m the older twin, how could I be the accident?”

“Even if you’re not the accident, you were still the mistake.”

Red Lightning’s jaw dropped. “God, you suck. I’m telling mom.”

“’I’m telling mom,’” Aquakill mocked.

“Do you know how heartbreaking it is to see my own face making fun of me? This is insecurity personified and I can’t say I’m a fan.”

Aquakill narrowed her eyes disbelievingly before going back to wreaking havoc.

Red Lighting—Abigail Zhao, as her friends knew her—sighed. She always knew she was the better twin, but this was just too much.

“Chrissy! Stop!” she called after her, breaking into a sprint.

Christine looked over her shoulder and shot Abigail a glare. “Stop calling me that! It’s Aquakill!”

“That’s the lamest supervillain name you could have come up with and you know it! God, you’re so embarrassing.”

“Shut up! I literally watched you google cool superhero names at one in the morning, so you can’t talk.”

Abigail scowled. She held up her hands, palms crackling with scarlet electricity waiting to be unleashed. Not that Christine was paying her any mind. She was too busy causing traffic delays on her way to the park, where they were scheduled to reveal the city’s tribute to Red Lightning in less than twenty minutes.

Abigail didn’t particularly want a tribute dedicated to her. But she still wasn’t about to let her idiot sister destroy it and half the park if she could help it.

Wishing that she had signed up for cross country freshman year instead of advanced drama, Abigail pumped her legs in a struggle to keep up. Christine had always been more athletic than she was, even when they were kids, which in Abigail’s opinion was an unfair advantage. How was she supposed to know they would end up with superpowers on opposing sides?

One thing was for sure: drama nerds got winded easily. And Abigail didn’t exactly have time to catch her breath.

Christine cackled as two cars almost collided in her wake, forcing Abigail to vault over them with a quick, apologetic shrug to the drivers. Her breaths came out in short pants and her calves screamed—she wasn’t sure how long she could keep running and Christine wasn’t showing any signs of waiting up.

Remembering the electricity still crackling in her hands, she hurled them at her sister, praying they would hit their mark while at the same time knowing they wouldn’t. On top of never doing any sports with running, she also couldn’t throw a ball to save her life.

“Missed me!” she heard, the voice getting steadily farther away.

Abigail cursed under her breath and willed herself to go faster, ignoring the way her lungs screamed at her to stop. The park was in view, the soon to be unveiled statue standing right near the front gates.

By the time she made it from asphalt to grass, Christine was already causing a panic. People screamed, parents desperately trying to herd their children away from the threat. Abigail grimaced at the amount of little Red Lightning costumes there were, knowing it was partly her fault they were in danger in the first place.

After all, what was a villain without a hero?

But it wasn’t as if she could just duck out at that point. When her sister put her mind to something, she wasn’t one to let it go until she saw it done. Apparently, today she wanted to be as much of a pain in the ass as she could manage. And she was doing a splendid job at it.

Christine rose up on a pillar of water, towering over the trees lining the path and looking down at the crowd. “I’d make a run for it if I was you,” she called out to a nearby college student, who stumbled back in terror before bolting in the opposite direction.

Abigail huffed. If there were any perks to living with your mortal nemesis, it was that they knew each other inside out. So she knew that Christine was all talk.

“Come down here and face me! Or are you too scared?”

Unfortunately, that also meant Christine knew all of Abigail’s tricks. “Nice try, idiot.”

“Coward!”

“Try hard!”

“Aquaman wannabe!”

Christine gasped. “How dare you!”

Abigail snickered, the memory of watching that movie together still vivid in her mind. Christine had cried—actually cried—because it was so stupid. Just like her.

The massive wave subsided a bit, bringing Christine that much closer to the ground. Abigail tried to reign in her grin.

“You’re right. Aquaman’s way cooler than you are. At least he can breathe underwater. Remember that time you almost drowned in the kiddie pool in second grade?”

Christine’s cheeks reddened and the pillar of water lowered even further.

“Or that time you accidentally spit water on that boy in middle school? Henry, was it? He’s cute, isn’t he?” she asked, knowing full well that she had—and still had, three years later—a massive crush on him.

“Stop!” At that point, Christine was so flustered that she couldn’t keep her grip on her powers anymore. The water flowed out of her control in a mini tsunami, leaving Abigail and the rest of the crowd soaked but unharmed.

Christine stumbled as soon as she hit solid ground, trying to straighten and fight back, but Abigail was already ahead of her. She lashed her sister’s wrists and ankles together with tendrils of lightning, watching as she stumbled onto the grass in a pouty heap.

A man broke away from the crowd. Abigail recognized him as the governor from their few encounters and straightened up in shock. She hadn’t known he would be attending the tribute’s reveal; she hadn’t thought it was that big of a deal.

“Red Lightning. On the day that’s supposed to be all about you, you’ve gone and saved us once again. How can we repay you?”

Abigail rubbed the back of her neck and offered him a sheepish smile. “I wouldn’t say saved you. I don’t think she was actually going to do any—”

“You’re too humble!” the governor interrupted. A few people cheered behind him in agreement, and she blushed.

“Uh, thanks,” she said, wondering how she could be so idolized but so awkward at the same time. “And thank you for the statue. It’s, um, really cool.”

“Will you be staying for the unveiling?” he asked.

She glanced at the structure, the cloth covering now soaked all the way through and clinging to what she guessed was metal underneath.

She hesitated to make it seem like she was considering the offer before shaking her head. “I would love to, but I think I should do something about her.” She nodded at Christine, who had given up struggling and resorted to shooting seething glares at anyone who dared to look her way.

The governor nodded. “That’s a good idea. Are you sure you don’t want us to lock her away? Prison’s the best place for people like her.” he asked.

“I can handle her,” she said, a knowing smile dancing on her lips when she looked back at her sister. Christine rolled her eyes and scowled, but couldn’t do anything more.

With the snap of her fingers, the restraints keeping her sister in place dissolved. Before she could run away, Abigail grabbed her arm in an iron grip and muttered straight into her ear.

“Don’t even try it. Or family dinner tonight’s going to be even more awkward than usual.”

[yescoffeeandsoul-please]

I was 18 when I first fell in love.  I had never had a boyfriend, and ventured off to college wide-eyed and inexperienced.  My dad had warned me that high school could be tough for me.  I lived in a small town, and I was nearly 6’4″.  I was not only the tallest girl, but nearly the tallest person.  And my dad was right–I never did have a boyfriend in high school.

College, he warned me, would be far different.  It would no longer matter that I was tall.  I was athletic, had long blonde hair, and a big smile.  Guys would no longer be intimidated, he said.  They would be intrigued.  And he was right.

Five guys asked me for my number on the first day of summer school.  I didn’t know what to do or how to react.  Everything was brand new for me, and  I was used to only hearing comments from the opposite sex in relation to my height.

On the second night of summer school, I locked myself out of my dorm room.  I was stuck outside in the hall in my pajamas, and had to venture to the lobby for a lockout code.  As I ventured back to my room, I was approached by a men’s basketball player sitting at an email kiosk.  Before the days of smart phones, the internet wasn’t at your fingertips, so there were small kiosks all over campus where you could log into your web portal. There he was, sitting and browsing the internet.  I tried to scurry by, but he yelled to me, “yo–you play on the women’s team right?”

I turned around and could barely understand what he was saying through his accent.  He was 6’8″, and I knew he was a freshman on the men’s team.  He was tall, dark, and quiet compared to the rest of the guys.  And most notably, he carried a basketball around with him everywhere he went.

After that first interaction, he asked my teammate for my phone number.  Reluctantly, I agreed to go on a date with him–only because my teammates had taken my phone from me and answered his texts.  Despite my hesitancy, quickly, our relationship blossomed.  And before I knew it, I would wake up with thoughts of him on my mind.

He would send me voice notes of him singing to me during the breaks of my three hour class.  He used to walk me to my dorm room every night after we would hang out with the rest of the athletes, and honor my requests to keep his room door open when we would spend time alone. We would venture outside into the summer heat and sit on the concrete steps, and talk about life.  He would share his dreams of becoming a pro, and I would ramble about all of the plans I had.  I was an inexperienced girl from Canfield, and he was an independent young man from the Bahamas.  We were falling in love under the summer stars, and for the first time, I met a man who appreciated all of those things about me that before had seemed, odd, intimidating, or unattractive.

But as quickly as we fell in love, we fell apart.  By the beginning of our sophomore year, he had broken my heart, and I was left to pick up the pieces.  Surely, the breakup wasn’t one-sided, but he had been the one to finally call it quits and move forward, as I was desperately clinging onto the happiness that we used to share on those summer nights.  I thought he was the love my life, and I was too young and inexperienced to know that he was meant to be a lesson, not a lifetime.  My young heart was shattered, and I had no idea how to begin to mend the broken pieces back together.

I write this because I came across the quote that I chose to title this post with today, and I wish that 10 years ago, I had the wisdom that I have now. And I can only hope that the young women that I recruit and coach understand its meaning. I wouldn’t necessarily deem him insignificant, but my first love came and went.  And while I most certainly possessed self-confidence, I don’t think I quite loved myself when I was 18.  I was secure in who I was, but I relied on the affection of someone else to deem my worthiness.

I wish I had understood my dad’s words on a deeper level when I was in high school and heading to college.  He never wanted my validation to come from a man–he wanted me to learn to create that within myself. And that’s why he was always so candid with me as I grew up.

It doesn’t matter if you are male or female, from a young age, society doesn’t teach us that our worth is already something that we possess, and that have to cultivate it as we continue to grow. So often, we place our value in the hands of other people, only to feel shattered when those people choose to leave.

It’s difficult to know our self-worth, and it’s even more difficult to learn how to self-love.  One thing that I so appreciate about that boy that I loved so deeply 10 years ago was that he truly did love me for the woman that I was, and in an odd way, that taught me something about myself when I was finally able to sort through the young heartbreak.

I am enough, and unfortunately, it was years after we broke up that I learned not only to value myself, but to love myself. Those concepts are not necessarily mutually exclusive.  I had always valued who I was, but I left the love to other people.  Now, I’m wise enough to know that I need to look in the mirror and love the woman staring back at me.  And when those people come into my life that love me for who I am, and for the woman that I love, that’s truly special.  And maybe I’ll appreciate it more than I did ten years ago, because I understand not only my value, but my heart.

I hope that I’m able to raise my children the way that my parents raised me.  My parents are far more progressive than I give them credit for, because they surrounded us with love, and tried to cultivate an environment where my sisters and I could grow to learn to love ourselves.  We didn’t always see it that way, but in looking back, my parents consistently tried to make sure that we didn’t place our value in the hands of others.  Rather, they tried to instill that our value is something we already possess, and that those who appreciate it are worth investing in.

Society tries to tell just that our value is measured in the amount of love that we receive from others.  Rather, our value is measured in the amount of love that we share, and in that process, the amount of love we are able to give to ourselves.  Be brave enough to learn to love who you are, and be bold enough to know that the person who you love is worthy–and quite honestly, enough. 

Xo.

18 years young with a strong sense of self but no idea how to value it.

28 years old, and just like my sweatshirt reads, choosing to love myself every day. No matter how hard.

  “My first love was some insignificant boy when it should have been myself.” Michelle K., First Love. I was 18 when I first fell in love.  I had never had a boyfriend, and ventured off to college wide-eyed and inexperienced.  

[junker-town]

WNBA mock draft: A’ja Wilson will go No. 1. After that, anything can happen

A new crop of stars are about to enter the WNBA. We know who Las Vegas will pick first, but it’s up in the air after that.

The 2018 WNBA Draft will be held at the Nike Headquarters in New York City on Thursday, April 12. ESPN2 will begin coverage with the first round at 7 p.m. ET, while the second and third rounds will take place at 8 p.m. ET on ESPNU.

This year’s draft comes after one of the most exciting Final Fours ever, which saw two of three games go to overtime and Notre Dame’s Arike Ogunbowale hit game-winners in consecutive games to win the tournament. The women’s hoops momentum is reaching a peak.

This season’s draft is deep with potential All-Stars at every position. The No. 1 pick is a lock, but after that, this draft is wide open. No team is sitting nicer than the Chicago Sky, who hold the No. 3 and 4 pick.

Last year’s champion Minnesota Lynx do not have a first-round pick, but the runner-up Los Angeles Sparks do. They’re looking for a piece to help bring them back on top for the second time in three years, and other playoff teams are hoping to snag an undervalued star.

Below is SB Nation’s mock draft, which includes our own observations and analysis from WNBA coaches and analysts.

Mock Draft

1. Las Vegas Aces - A’ja Wilson, F/C, South Carolina

Wilson is a future All-Star whose 6’5 height and size will help make her one of the best bigs in the league in time. She can shoot in the mid-range, has tremendous post moves and protects the rim well. She’ll make the perfect co-star with Kelsey Plum, last season’s No. 1 pick, who left the NCAA as the all-time Division I women’s scoring leader.

Las Vegas’ first professional basketball team has a ways to go, but will have two franchise pieces to build off of.

Las Vegas Aces head coach Bill Laimbeer’s scouting report:

You don’t get many players that can drive like she can. She can attack the basket with one dribble and cover a tremendous amount of ground. It says something when you have a player who’s relied on to take the ball out of bounds all the time. The trust factor is there to make the right pass. She’s also the player who comes back to get the ball and is the outlet pass to start a press-break because she’s going to make the right decisions. Those are the intangibles you look at for a player.

She shoots from an elevated position above her head so you don’t have to worry about shot-blocking. Overall, those are the intangibles that may set her apart from a lot of the other big players out there. I think in our league, she’s going to scare a lot of people guarding her because she’s able to take the ball to the basket off the drive.

2. Indiana Fever - Kelsey Mitchell, PG, Ohio State

The Fever have needs across the board. They’re in full rebuild mode, having traded their best player, Briann January one year after Tamika Catching’s retirement.

They can go one of two ways with this pick: Kelsey Mitchell, one of the most dynamic scoring guards in NCAA history, or Azura Stevens, UConn’s polished big.

With Mitchell’s incredible three-point range (she shoots 40 percent from the field on nine attempts per game), handles and court awareness, she seems too good to pass up here. The Fever can build around her and whoever they select at No. 8, a pick they received in the January trade.

How ESPN analyst LaChina Robinson sees Mitchell’s fit:

I kind of feel like Indiana will go with Mitchell [at No. 2]. Remember they don’t have Briann January anymore, and from what I understand Shenise Johnson won’t be ready to start this season. In my opinion, they need a player who can play that 1-2 combo. I think Pokey’s excited to see what Kelsey Mitchell can be as a passer. She took a lot of shots and scored a lot of baskets. That was her role and what she was expected to do. But they’ve seen some other dimensions of her game as she’s been asked to move into the 1-spot in some situations. But that’s just a guess of mine.

3. Chicago Sky - Azura Stevens, F, UConn

Stevens surprised many by entering the draft a year early, but she’s clearly ready to go pro. With her talents, Stevens is in consideration at No. 2, though it’s impossible to go wrong between her and Mitchell.

Stevens played a traditional big position for Connecticut because of the Huskies’ lack of size, but she showed in her first two seasons at Duke that can stretch out to the wing and play on the perimeter, too.

She’s versatile, a talented defender, and has a long frame you can’t find anywhere else in the draft. She’s a steal at No. 3.

How ESPN analyst LaChina Robinson sees Stevens’ fit:

Obviously the conversation around the first round of the draft has changed dramatically with Azura Stevens declaring for the WNBA. She’s a unique player and it starts with her physical dimensions more than anything. Her length... her skill not only around the basket, but she’s shown the potential to make plays with her face-up game.

4. Chicago Sky - Gabby Williams, G/F, UConn

The Sky get back-to-back lottery picks, and with needs everywhere and no rush to contend for a title right away, Gabby Williams makes a lot of sense. UConn’s star struggles to shoot the ball from range and is a bit undersized, but she was the best athlete in college hoops and is an all-around contributor. She was the heart and soul of the Huskies, and controls the tempo of every game she plays in.

Williams is an elite defender who can fill the stat sheet up with points, assists, or rebounds. With the right development, she can be a star.

Las Vegas Aces head coach Bill Laimbeer’s scouting report:

All you have to do is look at Alyssa Thomas from Connecticut and how she’s improved her game over the years. I think Gabby Williams fits that mold. She’ll teach herself some perimeter shooting. You watched her in the playoffs, she made some really big foul line jump shots. She’ll get better and better especially if they get a coach and an individual to work with her. I think she’ll be a solid player for a long time in the WNBA.

Indiana Fever head coach Pokey Chatman’s scouting report:

We’ve taken into account how important heart is on the court. Half the game is also played on the defensive end. Those are two valuable assets that she brings regardless of her ability to hit a three or nail a free-throw line jumper.

5. Seattle Storm - Jordin Canada, PG, UCLA

The Storm have to start thinking about Sue Bird’s inevitable replacement, and with talented point guards left on the board, this is probably the year to find one. The Storm could go with Duke’s Lexie Brown here, but Canada feels like the right choice.

Canada can run the floor, shoot from deep, and weave around anybody off the dribble. She won’t be a team’s primary scoring option, but she’ll get her buckets in the “W” while also creating attempts for Breanna Stewart, Jewell Lloyd and others. She’s an elite passer.

How ESPN analyst LaChina Robinson sees Canada’s fit:

Is there a player more fun to watch than Canada? She can lose a defend off the bounce no problem. She’s very crafty, can penetrate the defense and find the seams. She’s just got that next-level quickness. She’s not a pure shooter, meaning I don’t think she’s thinking about shooting the three every time she touches it, which makes her different from Lexie [Brown]. But you have to respect the fact that she’s worked on that three. She has an extremely high motor. The only question mark is her durability, because she’s kind of small and you can move her around the floor, but that’s fixable.

6. Dallas Wings - Diamond DeShields, G/F, Turkey

DeShields is undoubtedly a talented athlete who can play guard or forward with great 6’1 size and length. She isn’t a true three-point threat, but she’s phenomenal off the dribble, and at changing directions. She could be a star scorer.

What’s pushing her down in the draft is the uncertainty that surrounds her. She’s moved places three times, from North Carolina her freshman season to Tennessee. She then went pro overseas after skipping her senior season of college eligibility.

That’s something coaches and analysts agreed is a huge question mark.

Chicago Sky head coach Amber Stocks’ scouting report:

Skill is a broad term we often use to just identify talent on the court. But competitive character, managing through the mental and emotional burns of the season is a skill. Some players are able to do it at a different level. Looking at the intangibles is good not just when you’re looking at the 40 minutes of a game, but everything that goes into being a talented player and having a high character team... the locker room... the practices... the intangibles there are just as important.

How ESPN analyst Rebecca Lobo sees DeShields’ stock:

Diamond is really interesting because she’s so talented, everyone knows the potential she brought at North Carolina and Tennessee. I think the positives are that she has a year of playing professionally under her belt. She’s playing in a good league, having the chance to play with good teammates against good competition can only help her.

I think a negative could just be the uncertainty with Diamond. I think because she started at one school, transferred to another and seemed like she was coming back... and then I think most people were surprised that she decided not to play... there’s an uncertainty about her. It’s not as easy to watch her play in person, although some coaches have gone overseas to do that in terms of their scouting, but I think there’s a bit of ‘What exactly are we getting with Diamond DeShields?’

7. Washington Mystics - Victoria Vivians, F, Mississippi State

Vivians is a versatile wing who makes perfect sense for Elena Delle Donne’s Mystics. A 6’1 wing, Vivians is a flamethrower from deep who can also defend multiple positions. She will fill a real role wherever she lands, but she’d be a hero in Washington, which has struggled to defend opposing backcourts.

How ESPN analyst Rebecca Lobo sees Vivians’ fit:

A lot of people really like Victoria because of her size... Big guards are at a premium in the WNBA... and her ability to score. Not only did her efficiency increase this year, but the dramatic increase in her three-point shot, shooting from 20-something to the 40s. She’s shown that she’s a player who can continue to improve, and adjust her role even if that means fewer field goal attempts. I think people really liked her a year ago, and becoming more efficient has only helped her. She’s a very appealing big guard in this draft.

8. Indiana Fever - Monique Billings, F, UCLA

Billings definitely has some muscle to build as a post player, but she has a great sense of where to be to grab boards. She led the Pac-12 in rebounds this year, and also broke her own blocks record at UCLA. Billings can score in the interior, and may be the perfect match to run the break next to Kelsey Mitchell.

This is a huge draft for the Fever.

Indiana Fever head coach Pokey Chatman’s scouting report:

When you look at Mo, you can tell she’s trying to work on her range a bit. She’s trying to shoot it from about 10-14 feet. She’s always been high motor, runs the floor like a guard. She can defend multiple positions because she can move laterally. She’s great on the boards, but you can see she’s trying to get herself a little more solid and under control offensively.

Las Vegas Aces head coach Bill Laimbeer’s scouting report:

If she had 15 to 20 more pounds on her, she’d be a better player for our league.

9. Connecticut Sun - Kia Nurse, G, UConn

The Sun need help in the backcourt to match Jonquel Jones’ and Alyssa Thomas’ production on the inside, and Kia Nurse is the perfect piece. A knockdown shooter, Nurse can serve a vital role as a scorer, and can also defend quick guards.

Nurse may not be a star, but she’s a necessary glue piece who can help tie any team together.

10. New York Liberty - Lexie Brown, PG, Duke

With no striking need, the Liberty are likely to go with the best available player regardless of position. They’d be lucky to steal Brown at No. 10. Brown is one of the best defenders in the draft who averaged four steals per game this season, and also shoots better than 38 percent from range.

Brown is destined to be a starting point guard in time.

How ESPN analyst LaChina Robinson sees Brown’s fit:

The thing that sets Brown apart is her size. She’s got a couple inches on most of the point guards. Her three-point range is something intriguing to me because you stretch the line more in the WNBA than in college.. She’s a great leader, she was the ACC Defensive Player of the Year.

Another part of her game that impressed me was her strength on the ball. She has a high basketball IQ, sees the floor well and comes from a basketball pedigree. I think what’s different about Lexie is that she can play the 1 and 2. She’s got enough size that she can move to the 2 and become a shooter as well.

11. Los Angeles Sparks - Maria Vadeeva, F/C, Russia

Vadeeva is one of the unknowns in the draft as a 19-year-old playing in Russia. She could have been a lottery pick had she played college basketball, but since she’s been difficult to scout and nobody knows for sure when (or if) she’d come to the U.S., it’s hard to take her with a top overall pick.

Since the Sparks have a championship-caliber team together, whoever they draft isn’t likely to see a whole ton of playing time. That means they can afford to wait for Vadeeva to move to America. The 6’3 low-post scorer who already plays with Nneka Ogwumike and Angel McCoughtry overseas should be worth the wait, if necessary.

How Las Vegas Aces head coach Bill Laimbeer sees Vadeeva’s stock:

I don’t think she’ll fall to 13, and I’m definitely not taking her at 1. So, it’s a crapshoot where’s she’s gonna go depending on needs and if someone makes a surprise pick. I think she’s going to be a first-round pick.

How Indiana Fever head coach Pokey Chatman sees Vadeeva’s stock:

She’s surrounded by talent abroad and is playing well. We always have to take in regard to a player with such a high pick because of the commitment, if they’ll pass from a national team commitment being a top player. It’s one of those things, there’s too many question marks there that we still have to work through.

How ESPN analyst LaChina Robinson sees Vadeeva’s fit:

I’ve seen very little of her, but from what I’ve seen, she’s 6’3... lefty... very physical... she can rebound outside of her area... nice passer... nice touch. Really, more than anything, going back to the physical aspects of her game, a lot of times when it comes to post players it takes them a while to develop that strength and physicality, so I think that’s an advantage for her.

And then the passing ability for a big as the game evolves, the ability for a post player to pass and find open teammates is a premium. She’s kind of one of the unknowns in this. Because we haven’t seen a ton of footage on her or seen her live, I’m interested to see. I’ve talked to some WNBA GMs and they feel that if she were a college player, she could be a lottery pick. That just speaks to the level of skill and versatility she has and will hopefully bring to the WNBA.

12. Phoenix Mercury - Marie Gulich, C, Oregon State

A 6’5 center who nearly doubled her points production in her senior season (from 10 to 17 per game), Gulich has been a high riser in draft projections. She’s an efficient scorer down low (66 percent), and on the defensive end, she swatted three shots per game this season. She’s a great late-first talent who could form an unstoppable frontcourt with Brittney Griner in time.

How ESPN analyst Rebeccca Lobo sees Gulich’s stock:

Just talking to coaches it seems like she’s the prospect whose stock rose more than anyone throughout the latter part of the NCAA Tournament. Coaches were aware of her, but she played so well in the tournament especially in the later matchups and in the Tennessee pulling up against Mercedes Russell.

I think before the NCAA Tournament run, the conversation was that she was mid-to-late second-round, but her play may have moved her up to late first-round or early second-round. People are really interested in how hard she works, great size, her ability to face the basket, her fadeaway on her shot and her ability to score on like-sized players.

[ourtown-rp-blog]

Welcome to the game, JACOB WESTON! Your application was successful, and we’re excited to begin writing alongside you, Hercules. Please read over our checklist before sending in your link, which you should do within 24 hours!

IT’S ALL ABOUT YOOOOU ( ooc ) ♪

MAIN ALIAS: Hercules.

PRONOUNS: She/Her.

AGE: 25+.

ACTIVITY LEVEL: 6/10.

WHO YOU PLAYIN’ ?

FULL NAME: Jacob Lee Weston.

PRONOUNS: He/him.

FACECLAIM: Dean Geyer.

AGE/BIRTHDAY: 27, August 23rd.

ORDER: Third.

TYPE: Solo.

ORIENTATION: Pansexual, Panromantic.

ALL WORK AND NO PLAY ☆

EMPLOYMENT STATUS: Part time.

WORKPLACE: Jammin’ Java.

POSITION: Bartender.

HOW LONG?: One month.

WHO WILL I BE, IT’S UP TO ME ( ic ) ♪

{TW: Death, Cancer, Suicide}

Jacob Lee Weston had a rough start in his youth. From an early age, his parents noticed that he had a problem with aggression. He’d hit people, throw things, throw temper tantrums – he wasn’t an unhappy child, he just didn’t know how to deal with his anger. It got him in trouble for the first couple years of elementary, before his teacher suggested that he either start talking to a therapist, or get involved in sports. Jacob’s parents didn’t want to subject him to therapy quite yet, so decided to see how he would do in athletics. And honestly, Jacob soared. There wasn’t one thing he wasn’t good at. He played football, soccer, baseball, basketball, and even ended up begging his parents to let him take karate. He excelled, always the star in whatever he chose to do. And it helped with his aggression, too. He finally had an appropriate outlet, and things calmed down at home for him.

When Jacob’s parents got divorced, it didn’t hit him as hard as he thought it would. Sure, he was sad, but he knew that he’d still see both of them. And he understood, even then, that love didn’t always last. He stayed with his mother, even though he loved his father dearly; he was always a momma’s boy, and deciding who to live with wasn’t even a question for him.

Jacob was always a popular guy. From elementary on, he never had a shortage of friends. He loved being the center of attention, and he loved surrounding himself with people. One of those people was Serenity Clarke. Jacob and Serenity were friends from the time they were in pre-K together and their parents were just planning playdates with them and the other children. As they grew older, they became practically inseparable. Where you found one, you were going to find the other. Serenity was his biggest cheerleader in life, always supporting Jacob through everything – and even took on that role in a literal sense once they reached their middle school years. It didn’t surprise anyone when they started dating at the young age of fourteen, when the two were freshman in high school. And it was natural to them; they weren’t meant to be with anyone else.

Jacob and Serenity were a high school power couple. She was a cheerleader, he was a jock – the perfect popular couple. So when they graduated, there wasn’t even a question about it – they were going to go to college together. The two decided on Arkansas College, with Serenity majoring in Criminal Justice and Jacob majoring in Biochemistry, with a focus on Pre-Med. Simply put, Jacob wanted to be a doctor. He had the smarts for it, he thought – and when he took the MCAT his junior year of college, at the young age of 20, he passed with flying colors. With his scores, he had his pick of the litter from medical schools. He finished up his schooling and got his bachelor’s in Biochemistry, set on attending the UAMS College of Medicine in the fall. It was in Little Rock, and he still wanted to be close to home. Unfortunately, Jacob never got the chance to start medical school.

Just after receiving his bachelor’s degree, Jacob and Serenity went out on a nice, lovely dinner to celebrate both of them getting their degrees. Jacob took her to Little Rock, and they ate out on the patio with candles lit around them, romantic music playing in the background. Jacob used that night to propose to Serenity. The love of his life, the only woman he had ever had eyes for – he couldn’t imagine living out his life with anyone else. She was his perfect match, and he was certain that they were born to love each other. His heart beat for her and her only. Of course she said yes, and the two wasted no time in telling their loved ones about their upcoming nuptials. Much like when they first started dating so long before, no one was surprised. They were soulmates, plain and simple.

That July, Serenity went to the doctor with complaints of chronic stomach pain, nausea, fatigue and loss of appetite. They both thought that maybe she just had the flu and it was being pesky and not going away. They never thought it could be anything serious. They were a golden couple with the perfect lives together – how could something bad happen to them of all people? But it did. Serenity was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Jacob was confident that they could fight it, that Serenity would be okay – until a friend said the words that would be forever burned into his mind: “Once pancreatic cancer is able to be caught, it’s typically too late.” The one year survival rate was just 20%, and the five year 7%. There wasn’t much hope for Serenity.

Jacob put off medical school, instead deciding to stay with Serenity as much as he could. She told him to forget about the engagement, that they didn’t have to get married – who wanted to marry the dying girl, anyway? Instead of listening to her, Jacob planned a last-minute wedding in Hawaii, deciding that she only deserved the very best while she was battling her illness. It was a short vacation for the two, because her doctors didn’t want her gone long, but they said their vows on a beautiful beach surrounded by close family and friends. It was perfect, and she had looked like the brightest, purest, most perfect angel that there was. Jacob was so in love with everything about her.

Serenity’s condition went downhill fast after that. It was like she was wasting away before Jacob’s eyes. Every day brought a new challenge, and it seemed like she was constantly in pain. For months, that’s what he remembered most. She was so beautiful inside, but her body was getting skinnier and skinnier, and her body was causing her tremendous turmoil. She was miserable, and she hated life, and she would spend hours crying about how she didn’t want to be part of the world anymore. It broke Jacob’s heart, and he would just lay there with her, holding her and telling her how much he loved her and how beautiful she was.

Serenity’s parents wouldn’t give up on her. They had the money to take care of their daughter. They wanted to move her away, but she refused. The couple just wouldn’t face the facts – Serenity wasn’t going to live much longer. In November of that year, Serenity had had enough. Her parents were just prolonging her pain, and she didn’t want to deal with it anymore. Jacob’s heart had been permanently scarred by watching his wife, the love of his life, his best friend since he was four go through what she was going through. So when Serenity asked Jacob to help her commit suicide, he wasn’t as conflicted as he probably should have been. In his eyes, she was hurting. She would always be hurting. Until she was finally taken from the world and granted peace. So why would he make her suffer? If he really loved her, how could he keep her around, in that state of living? No, he loved her too much for that. He couldn’t let her suffer anymore. So, after finding a dealer and buying copious amounts of heroin from them, Jacob helped Serenity OD. He helped her slip out of her pain and finally find peace.

Serenity’s parents were, of course, furious, and demanded a full investigation into the death of their daughter. It had been apparent from the beginning that it was a suicide, but her parents weren’t convinced that Jacob didn’t have a part in it. It was eventually taken to court, and Jacob was convicted of manslaughter. He was sentenced to fourteen years in prison for the death of his wife. At only twenty-two years of age, Jacob was thrown into prison. He never regretted his actions for a moment. He wasn’t angry that he was thrown in prison, and he wasn’t angry at his in-laws. They were grieving their daughter, their light; he knew that. But he knew that, if he had the chance to go back in time and do something different – he wouldn’t. He would make the same choice time after time. He had loved Serenity with all his heart and soul – loving her was like breathing. He was fully convinced that he was born to love her. She was – everything to him. And to see her in pain like that, always so miserable – it broke him. It tore at his heart and soul and he couldn’t fathom making her live like that any longer than she had to. If he had to make a choice again, he’d help her find peace each and every time. He loved her that much.

Jacob being thrown in prison caused the Weston parents to work together again for once – four years after his sentence, they hired a new lawyer. One of the best, very expensive – but they couldn’t handle their son being locked away anymore. It took a bit of time, but Jacob finally saw a judge that took pity on him. They declared his sentence time served, and he was finally released.

That was two months ago. Being apart of society again is proving quite interesting for Jacob – he’s no longer as happy as he used to be growing up, and a genuine smile is a lot harder to come by from him. He’s living with his mother while he gets back on his feet, and he’s started working as a bartender at Jammin’ Java, thanks to his brother Cameron, who manages the venue. Things are slowly falling back into place. Lately, Jacob has been getting harassing phone calls from those he suspects to be the family and close friends of his in-laws, but so far they have seemed relatively harmless, albeit threatening. He doesn’t quite feel like his life is in danger just yet, so he hasn’t said anything to anyone. For now, he’s just enjoying being free and getting his life back together.

[bananashemmo]

Committed The Robbery (Part 4)

Pairing: Y/N/Gangmember!Ashton

Rating: NC-17

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3

Summary: On a scale from 1 to shit, how fucked would Ashton be if he ended up banging the other gangmember Luke’s little sister Y/N?

Committed The Robbery on Wattpad

“Y/N what are you waiting for, come on!”

You confusedly zoned out from your thoughts by the sound one of the girls from your behind. You had been glaring at James for the past ten minutes standing less than 25 meters away from you, his eyes boring into yours despite his attention being on the football.

“I-, I’m coming.” You managed to say and blinked twice. You didn’t like the way he was staring at you but there was no way you could avoid it.

The weather was warm and nice, a little bit cloudy. It was perfect for today’s occasion, people wouldn’t be sweating outside like inside and you didn’t have to worry about the lack of guests that would show up.

Today was, as mentioned, unlike any other.

Every year at Sydney Falls College, an annual football game would be held. The rival was always the same, you had the record of winning almost every year and today shouldn’t be any different.

There was no doubt everyone was excited. The football team had been playing until the early mornings were met by the sun rising. They had been out of their dorms and arrived back just in time to take a shower and leave for early classes.

It had become some sort of ritual. Every year they were playing to win the massive golden trophy with the title, “College Of The Year.” It had been standing on your shelves with other trophies and they barely dared to take it out on this day every year.

You had only been a part of the school for a small three months. Being a Freshman in college definitely left you a bit confused and new, but when you thought about it you had caught up with the college history.

It was all about hating the other team as much as possible. When speaking about them it had to involve some sort of insult in your sentence, even the mascots for both teams hated each other.

It was only a rumor but one time you had heard the school had kidnapped the other mascot and locked it into the librarian’s room. She hadn’t taken notice of it before seeing a giant shark costume with a little human head in the middle of it.

You didn’t understand what the luck would be, a man dressed in a costume couldn't do that much? But it was important to the footballers and definitely also important to the school and headmaster Hughes.

The footballers were running back and forth and between cones with a ball each, wanting to warm up for the big show.

You had been standing on the sideline watching for a bit. Not that you wanted to but every time you were near James you couldn’t avoid watching where he was going.

He was almost like a shadow. Always there when you least expected it. It wasn’t often you saw him around campus but when you did, you couldn’t look anywhere else. It had become a habit you couldn’t get rid of.

It wasn’t that you weren’t occupied. In fact you were a little bit behind but you had your reasons for it.

Starting out at college with the heavy weight of being Luke Hemmings’ little sister carried on your shoulders left a few disadvantages. It was hard trying to start new friendships when everyone was somehow avoiding and almost afraid of you.

Not that they were afraid of who you were as a person. Everyone knew you were fragile and could barely kill a bug. All they feared was to somehow hurt you because they knew how it would turn out.

Luke’s reputation was quite spoken between students. It was a hard start but you were also aware of it. You could have started at any other college but you decided to take this one.

Maybe it had a bit to do with the fact that everyone knew Luke. It meant that you didn’t have to explain how complicated and messed up your life was because he had been there to show everything that was about it.

Being and orphan with Luke also meant that it wasn’t that many options you had when it came to college. It was one of the cheapest around and you concluded by the huge amount of slackers it would be easy to get some good grades here and there.

You could kind of say you were the complete opposite of Luke. While he was shady and dark you were caring and rightful. He was the loud one at parties while you mostly avoided it, being the quieter one.

He had been taking care of you for as long as you knew. It wasn’t that many years ago your parents had passed away but even before that he had been the most protective one out of them all.

Nobody should ever mess with him or his little sister.

Safe to say when you showed up at your dorm for the first time you scared the hell out of your new dorm mate.

Not that you looked any scary, you had even decided to do something out of your attire just to give the best impression possible. It was with a huge smile and nicely blushed cheeks you walked into the room but it had changed quickly.

The frightened look on her face was priceless but also a very bad start for a new beginning.

She had a welcoming smile but it also faded away once she recognized you. You barely understood how she had been able to but you could barely keep a proper secret in this.

It was with a shaky voice she could barely say, “You’re Y/N Hemmings.”

From that you knew what the clock had timed. All those thoughts running in her mind at once per milliseconds would be completely wrong. It would all be a picture made out of who you appeared to be, not how your personality was.

Her name was Alba, Albs for short. She seemed pretty geeky the second you came inside, her cheeks were covered with cute freckles and her hair was dark and short to her shoulders.

The way she was clutching onto her books and looked at you spoiled many things. She was a frightened person already, probably a bit misplaced in society and also seemed to be more afraid to speak to people than you were.

She was the perfect character, the way she dressed and the attitude she had. She could have been the typical bully in high school and too afraid to state her opinions unless it would be at a class where she knew she would be smarter than anyone else.

Lots of her stuff was already filling the room, she did look quite like a mess. She had her glasses resting in her hair and with so many books in her tiny body you were sure she would sooner than later drop them.

It was hard to break through to her. She seemed to be a very distant person at times but when getting to know her she was hilarious as hell.

Sure she was still a bit frightened when speaking to you but as days went by she seemed to loosen up. Telling more about herself and her family, it was quick that your friendship grew.

She knew what your background was and the intentions Luke and his friends had behind their actions. Not that she understood or respected it, but she was aware without having to walk around with a question mark printed in her forehead.

While she studied biology, which wasn’t that big of a surprise, she invested most of her time in her books. That was where you always found her, sitting with her knees to her chest and her back pressed against her pillows.

You on the other hand had focus on law and enforcement which was pretty iconic considering the industry your brother was in.

It didn’t take long before you had settled with being used to each other. You slept around the same time, both of you were quiet people so it wasn’t like you hated each other by sharing a dorm.

But on the other hand, you were a bit more reckless compared to Alba.

When claiming that you wanted to be a part of the cheerleading squad she had laughed at first. In fact, she was laughing for five minutes straight before realizing that you were dead serious with your idea.

Why join the cheerleading squad she questioned. It was truly a really great question, you had never been the one to be in some sort of group when it came to high school but in college you wanted the start of something different.

You were nervous as hell and it wasn’t like you had been in a group of many girls before. They almost seemed scarier than when Luke and his friends hung around selling drugs by the back of your apartment.

It wasn’t that you were that athletic but it was a challenge and you liked it.

It would be a good way to get to know others, you had needed that when you were in high school but too afraid to say anything. You wanted a good new start and it was fun to look at the football players run around on the field sweaty.

But what you hadn’t given a thought was the fact that James had decided to be on the football team.

No doubt it was a coincidence, you knew he was a part of the football team in high school and it wasn’t much a surprise that he continued in college. It was his way of showing that he deep inside wasn’t just a horrible person towards girls.

When seeing him for the first time your heart skipped a beat and not in the good way. He was having that cocky smile on his face but made sure not to do anything because just like you he wanted a clean start at college.

Where nobody had to fear him and see him as the villain. Here, he had gotten a few more friends and the girls were almost shouting over him. It didn’t make any sense to you because he still managed to get humiliated when Luke was around.

You could feel the cold sweat drip down from your back when you turned around and headed back to the other cheerleaders standing in a pile of girls.

It almost looked like a giant piece of chess game. The uniforms were cute, yet simple. They weren’t as slutty as they could have been at other colleges and you were allowed to wear shorts under the skirts.

Colors were just as simple as the fabric. Black and white to show the national colors of the college and with a large S in the middle for Sydney. On the back you had numbers just like the football team almost as if you could match a boy and a girl.

You were happy that the colors were out of the ordinary instead of looking like someone in a giant pile of candy floss or some typical colors like red or blue.

They suited you well and were perfect for the weather. The girls were currently on their way to make a pyramid but of course they were missing the last one to complete it.

“The game starts in twenty minutes. I need you all to smile and be prepared.” Joanna, the captain of the cheerleading squad announced with a matching bell between her lips.

She could be a bitch sometimes but deep inside was a sweetheart. The cheerleading was had huge importance in her life. It had been passed by for generations and it was also the reason why she was doing everything with big passion.

“I’m here.” You announced like it wasn’t obvious and placed your foot on the waiting hands to be lifted up and do your usual pose.

From this view you were able to see everything. Guests were slowly filling out the many black seats that crowded the whole football field. The guys in the booth above the board with points were preparing everything. Currently it was spelling “Welcome.”

You practiced twice a week and it was nice to get away with everything. It was also a benefit because your fitness became better and you could do stuff with your body you had never believed would be possible.

The nerves were obvious on the way you were standing because you were shaking more than usual.

This was your first official show. You had been to previous games before but you had always been sitting in the audience. Not right next to the football field with a team to accompany you.

Some were also nervous which was fine but you knew that if Joanna saw weakness she would snap you out of it. It was the best power she had in her mind.

“Okay one last try of the pyramid before you get the last break. We’re talking five minutes, drink some water and go for a pee if needed.” She yelled at the top of her lunges to drown the loud sounds of the footballers from her behind.

They were chanting their usual song, the one that seemed to motive everyone and scream the lyrics as loud as possible.

You jumped down from the pyramid and stretched your arms to get away the feeling of heavy weight being pulled from your shoulders.

You knew it had to be a quick with the lack of time you had but because of the sun you needed some water from your locker in the changing rooms.

It wasn’t many that took the chance, being late with Joanna was like being late for classes with Mr. Talinn in law. Not something to mess with in college.

You and three others entered the changing rooms after taking the short run from the football field. Luckily enough a tunnel lead to the rooms and with one quick check in your locker you would be out in no time.

The music coming from above also spoiled that it was almost time, people were starting to cheer already and there was less than minutes left.

Alba had also sent you a text saying she was there. Usually she wouldn’t do such things like this because of her anxiety but she wanted to be a part of the “Squad” and most probably also see you make a huge fool of yourself.

Opening your locker to throw in your jacket and took out your water bottle you almost counted all the second you used.

You were almost more afraid of Joanna than someone else. But maybe that was a little too quickly said for sure.

“Care to share?”

You barely got the chance to swallow the water and the bottle was quickly dropped to the ground.

“Because with everything I’ve been put through that’s the least you can own me.” James spoke through gritted teeth. He had revenge in his eyes and he was pressing you harshly against the lockers.

“Ver-,” You didn’t get the chance to yell for Veronica standing on the other side of the lockers reversed of yours to ask for help before he placed his large hand in front of your mouth.

You were a wiggling mess trying to grab as much attention possible but it was pointless. Veronica and whoever was around had left less than a minute after and it gave James the chance to do what he pleased without witnesses.

“Look at the little stunt your puppets pulled at me? Who do you think’s gonna pay for that?” He removed his hand to let you speak and showed you the burns and redness he had.

They hadn’t been that obvious on distance but you could tell how worse they had gotten by the days passing by. He had marks around his neck and they had turned into a deep shade of purple.

“Because of them I almost didn’t make it to the game. Hell they nearly killed me! Coach Zurich was definitely worried considering my injuries. You know I could have easily spoiled anything but what could they do about it? So much for expelling them!”

You widened your eyes trying to get away but it was nearly impossible. He had you trapped in a way against the black lockers you couldn’t get away without injuring yourself badly.

“What do you expect when you started it?” You managed to say and felt his grip around you became stronger by your question.

“I started this? You know it goes way back. You know I just follow the steps of my brother.” He smiled in delight and managed to remove a strand of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes.

“The steps of your brother are to torment mine. I don’t have anything to do with this.” You flicked your head to get his hand away from your face. The hair was the least annoying thing right now.

“That’s where you misunderstand it, Y/N.” He almost spoke softly but it was only to annoy you even more.

“We’re the new generation and we need to pass it on. Your brother and mine hate each other so I thought why not do the same with you? You shouldn’t complain you know, using the excuse that you’re a girl doesn’t work in this society we currently live in.”

He was enjoying this so much. All the power he had over you, you figured out he had been waiting on the football field until you would leave. It was why he had been staring at you with the same common smirk.

“And you know what the best part about this is?” He asked and leaned his mouth to your ear, “Both you and Luke gets the chance to suffer.”

“Suffer from what? My knuckles hurting after beating you senseless?”

It was almost too good to be true when you heard the sound of Luke. He was standing by the end of the lockers with a smirk better than James’ could ever be and had the boys behind his back.

“I’ll survive.” He spoke and in a split second James let you go.

You knew it wasn’t amusing at all but seeing the other boys were a bit hilarious. They had loaded their hands from the small shop upstairs, Michael was having a large bag of popcorn in his arms and ate them almost intensely.

“Now leave her before I tore out your spleen with my hands.” Luke made a small nod with his head just to prove his seriousness.

“Do it!” Michael chanted from his behind, he and Calum watching like it was some sort of great movie with their popcorn and candy.

Luke didn’t say anything but had his arms crossed and waited impatiently. He didn’t flick a muscle and kept the intense eye contact with James as he walked past the boys to get to the exit of the changing rooms.

You were still pressed against the lockers but it was with a huge sigh of relief.

“After what we did it was simple logic he would go straight for your throat once he had the opportunity.” Luke explained when you shared eye contact and you hurried towards him to be wrapped up for a hug.

“Couldn’t really let that happen, huh?” He said more quietly and smiled when you leaned your chin on the top of his shoulders.

Ashton was standing behind with a satisfied smile on his face. He wasn’t saying anything and neither had he done something but the fact that he wanted to show up made you realize how much you appreciated it.

“Thank you.” It wasn’t said out loud but you knew he would understand from your silent language, he made a wink with his eye and turned around.

“Are you staying to watch the game?” You asked and closed your locker.

“It seems like it.” Luke nodded his head towards the popcorn and candy, Michael and Calum walking in front while you stood with him and Ash.

It wasn’t often that he was a part of these things but since he was here he wanted to see what was going on. He knew they were expelled but in the massive pile of people they most probably wouldn’t get recognized.

“Nice outfit.” Ashton commented once Luke hurried up to grab a few popcorns once you came outside. You suspected it more to be him hiding behind it to make sure nobody would recognize him.

Rolling your eyes by his words you lifted up one of your pong pongs to shake them in his face, just to be a tease like him.

“You know we have this party later.” He announced causally, you knew they had been talking about it before but this time he made it official.

“A party? Sounds like a mess already.” You smiled and squeezed your eyes by the bright sun in your face once you were out of the changing rooms and back on the field.

You could almost pre call all the early parties they had been hosting. It always ended up in a huge mess and it was the reason why you never had parties at yours and Luke’s apartment. It was all now hosted in Ashton and the others’ new apartment.

“If you want you could join you know... With Luke’s permission of course.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You scratched your arm almost nervously and looked up at him apologizing.

You weren’t sure why he was asking but it definitely sounded like a bad idea. You knew it would end up in you just talking in the corner with someone throughout the hall night and it had been a long weak.

You just needed some sort of peace.

“I’ve got some studying to do. I’m sure you still know how the feeling of that is.” You were a little bit cocky but it was okay. He could handle it, almost being the worst one of the two of you.

“Indeed.” He agreed and ran a hand through his curls, stopping by the entrance to the stairs leading up to the many chairs.

“We’ll be keeping an eye on you.” Luke said as he looked over his shoulder and made a motion with his fingers.

“Please don’t.” You grinned lightly and smiled at their direction before following the group of cheerleaders screaming at the top of their lunges and heading towards their position on the field.

[hellstate--rp-blog]

↪ b a s i c s ;

N A M E: Noah Ashbury A G E: 26 P L A C E   O F   O R I G I N: Malibu, California G R O U P: None F C: Matthew Daddario

❝ My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops? ❞

↪ p e r s o n a l i t y ;

P O S I T I V E   T R A I T S: devout ; scrupulous N E G A T I V E   T R A I T S: enigmatic ; self-conscious

↪ b i o g r a p h y ;

L I F E   B E F O R E   T H E   O U T B R E A K:

From the very beginning, Noah Ashbury was used as a tool to bring happiness and joy to others. Everything, even from before he was born, was like a fairy tale. The couple met in high school and grew up only houses apart from one another. His father was a man of his word, loyal, intelligent, and athletic. His mother was the one who put everyone to shame when it came to school, finishing at the top of her class. Together, they became an unstoppable force, the high school sweethearts that everyone admired and loved. After high school, the two of them carried on with the rest of their lives, his father becoming a lawyer and his mother following the path of many different jobs and hobbies. Eventually, the two were married and soon enough, had a child. The family lived in a house on the side of the PCH, their backyard being the vast expanse of the ocean. As a child, his parents would take him out to the beach, setting up towels and blankets from their infant to crawl and lay down on. With the blissful sounds of waves crashing on the shore and the seagulls calling out to one another, Noah would find himself at peace and in a state of complete and utter happiness. Every year, he became more aware of his surroundings, more in tune with the ocean and nature. His parents, who had been surfing the Malibu beaches since they were kids, had always encouraged his interest in the ocean. As soon as he learned how to swim, his father began to take him out to the water and taught him how to surf. With every second that passed, he learned and grew better and better at it. Sure enough, Noah quickly became trusted to go down to the beaches alone, the hardest task for him being the tricky and difficult trip through the sand while he carried the bulky surfboard with him. But still, his parents never failed to go out with him every once in a while to watch him surf and give him pointers on how to improve his abilities. The beach had become his safe haven, the place he went to feel good and to forget about all of life’s troubles. Every day after school, it became a routine. Rush home, finish his homework, change into his wetsuit, and run out to the beach where he could be reunited with the one thing in life that made sense. Outside of this, Noah faced difficulties with other people. While many would assume that his chipper demeanor would be well-liked, Noah experienced something completely different. His inability to stand up for himself and draw the line when things got too bad had often left him in troubling situations. The other boys in his class would terrorize him at school, constantly belittling him and putting him down. However, his parents and grandparents had made things clear from the beginning. They made sure that he knew the importance of kindness and because of this, things remained the same. But as long as he had the ocean, things would be okay.

The day had gone without a hitch, his day at school seemed better than usual and his ride home being much quicker than it ever had been. For the day, things seemed to be looking up. However, when he got home, he was greeted with police cars outside of his door and officers speaking with his crying mother. There had been no sign of his father and immediately, his mind began to race with everything that could have happened, but still, he was able to self-soothe and convince himself that his worries weren’t true. They couldn’t be. But once his mother had realized that he was home, the truth quickly came out. His father, who had been on a business trip in San Diego and was not supposed to come home until later that night, had gotten into a head-on collision with a drunk driver. Everything from that point seemed to move slowly. The days grew longer, his appetite dissipated, and his mood lowered. At twelve years old, his father had passed away and he was left without any closure, without a chance to say goodbye to him. As the years passed, Noah found himself with a feeling that he couldn’t quite shake. It was an all-consuming sadness that filled his entire being and made it harder for him to function. Going to school, doing homework, and even surfing became too tiring for him. Finding happiness and the light at the end of the tunnel seemed pointless, but he continued on with life, acting as though nothing was wrong. For the most part, he was able to fool his friends and allude his mother from the truth. But as his grades began to slip and his attendance dropped, she began to worry for her son. His mother’s solution to the problem was sending him to a therapist once a week. Each session carried out the same routine: they say hello, he sits on the couch, and for the next hour, he sits in silence, refusing to answer the therapist’s questions. His behavior was worrisome, but never to the point where they even considered a higher level of treatment. This carried on for nearly three years before Noah reached his breaking point. There was no specific incident that triggered it, rather it had built up over time and finally became too much. He found a bottle of his father’s old prescriptions still sitting in the medicine cabinet and stole a bottle of vodka from the liquor store down the street. Coming home early from school, he stuffed a handful of pills into his mouth, using the vodka to wash them down. Slowly, nausea and drowsiness overcame him until he drifted off peacefully. It wasn’t beautiful, nor was it poetic. When he awoke, fluorescent lights filled his vision and his mother sat in the corner of the room, fast asleep. The next few weeks went by slowly as he was quickly swept away by an EMT and taken to the nearest hospital. There, he spent day after day going to various groups. Community, art, recreation—it all felt so trivial, so demeaning. The ever-present pressure to open up to his therapist and to his peers was overwhelming for him. Eventually, he gave in and before he knew it, he was out of the hospital and back at home.

Very little changed after that. The only differences were his mother constantly worrying over his mental state, the medications he was now being forced to take, and every sharp object, pills, and alcohol being locked away from Noah. While he didn’t like any of these things, he did learn to cope with it and just accept his mistakes for what they were. The therapy sessions continued after but were still the most difficult thing for Noah to deal with because he didn’t know how to think for himself or even feel for himself. He only knew how to be there for others and how to put on a smile. He spent that summer catching up with his credits and the following year, he graduated from high school. Noah’s life had begun to get back on track as his daily routines steadied themselves. Surfing became his passion once more and he was able to participate in competitions during the summer between high school and college. With his freshman year just around the corner, Noah’s anxiety levels raised and with it so did his intake of alcohol. Parties that he had never really enjoyed before seemed to be the answer to all of his problems and before he knew it, Noah had been sucked into the life of being a frat boy. Noah hid his mental illnesses from his peers, hoping that if he did, he would continue to be accepted as one of them. He did everything in his power to avoid being alienated as he once was and in doing so, began to get into trouble with his school and the local cops. Noise complaints, underage drinking arrests, and threats to be kicked out of his school became a reality. However, none of this was enough for him to ever get his act together. Even with his aspiration to become a marine biologist, Noah was unable to fully apply himself to the educational program. One day, he received a call from his mother requesting to have lunch with him. For the most part, he was able to hide the problems he was facing at school, but he still worried that she only wanted to meet with him to scold him. Instead, she revealed that she had been diagnosed with stage four breast cancer. This came as a shock to Noah and gave him the push he needed in order to do better. He decided to quit his fraternity and move back into his house with his mother so that he could help take care of her. He buckled down with his studies and did the work that he needed to do in order to graduate. Noah moved forward, studying to receive his master’s in biology. He managed to get an internship with a marine biologist where he was able to do more hands-on tasks. Despite his mother’s illness, Noah was happy.

L I F E   D U R I N G   T H E   O U T B R E A K:

From his time at the hospital to his success in his master’s program, Noah’s life had done a complete one-eighty. He continued to care for his mother and drove her to all of her appointments. Noah returned the love that she had shown her and dedicated himself to making her feel comfortable. While he knew her time on earth was dwindling, he also felt that if he gave her enough love, she’d be alright. One day, he sat beside her bed with a newspaper, reading to her all of the current events so she’d be updated. It was something that had become a tradition for them and reminded them of when the roles were reversed. On most days, there was nothing extraordinary to read. However, as he opened up the LA Times newspaper, he immediately focused on the headline. It was something about a virus and at first, it merely piqued his interest. He read it aloud and after, the two talked about the legitimacy. There were jokes here and there about zombie outbreaks, but in their hearts, they knew that things like that only happened in movies. Hardly even a day later, panic had taken over the city of Los Angeles while Noah and his mother were on their way home from the doctors. At first, it started out with a long line of traffic that was worse than usual. Then, crowds of people were running, scattered like ants. Noah didn’t know what to do so he had his mother jump on his back and he carried her as far as he could. Scenes of brutal violence and gore had haunted the two and Noah was forced to do whatever he needed to do in order to protect his mother. Within a day, they made it back to their house in Malibu. Quickly, they packed their bags and loaded up his father’s old car with all of the food that they could find. Together, they journeyed further into the Palisades where they unpacked their bags and found a safe place to live. Secure and isolated, they didn’t have to worry too much about the dead finding them. They did, however, have to fend off against those attempting to steal their resources and take over their house. Noah was determined to keeping his mother alive for as long as he could which enabled him to act with violence instead of kindness. Only a few months into the outbreak, Noah’s mother passed away. For the first time, he was alone and without a single person there to comfort him. He buried his mother alone and shortly after, decided to venture east.

It wasn’t long before Noah came across another survivor. It was a man who knew a lot of survival skill and luckily, was very generous. The man gave Noah a bow and arrow and helped him improve his skills while Noah agreed to teach him more things about first aid. From there, a friendship grew. They became close and though they had only known each other for a few months, felt like family. As they traveled further into the center of the country, raider groups became more common. For the most part, they were able to pass by without any problems. But their luck had to run out and when it did, a group of raiders attacked them, hunting them like animals. Noah’s partner in crime told him that he’d hold them off and urged him to continue running. Reluctantly, Noah followed orders and ran as fast as he could, for as long as he could. He waited months for his friend to find him, retracing his steps and leaving notes but nothing seemed to work. Eventually, Noah had to face the fact that he was most likely dead and it was all his fault. While the old Noah would have given up and thrown in the towel, the new Noah refused. His mother, father, and friend had died and Noah wanted to survive for them and make them proud. So he carried on, traveling town after town, city after city, state after state. Nearly a year into the outbreak, he came across a new problem. He was unable to find any more of the medication that he was taking prior to everything and now had to learn how to live without them. The feelings of depression and suicidal ideation began to resurface once more, and while he didn’t try to do anything bad, the fantasies were still there. Negative thoughts that put him in bad lighting filled his mind and the neverending train of insecurities ran amuck. There was now no one there to talk to or confide in and the overwhelming sense of helplessness filled his body. He was on a whole new level of self-hatred, one that he had not yet experienced.

L I F E   A F T E R   T H E   O U T B R E A K:

As life grew tiresome, Noah began to give up on things. Hunting for food was no longer as urgent and even making sure he had a weapon no longer crossed his mind. Every survival instinct that he had built up over the years had been knocked down. But talk of a city named Cheyenne surfaced and he heard stories of survivors being together and living as one. Noah took this as a sign and decided to go to the city to see for himself. It took months, but finally, he reached his destination. Noah was quickly taken into the Cheyenne State Capitol family where he took on the job of a carer. Out of all the challenges Noah has had to face, nothing was as difficult as it was to pull himself together in the presence of everyone else. He knew his life was hard but compared to everyone else, things for him were easy. Because of this, Noah took it upon himself to be the one to make things better. Over the course of a little over half a year, Noah had become comfortable with them. For some people, caring about so many people and being cared about in return would be a good thing. However, for Noah, this was dangerous. It opened up a door of co-dependency and before he knew it, he was unable to be happy without the help of another. Making them happy made him happy, but it also exhausted him. He grew tired and in a last minute decision, Noah packed up his bags and left the people that he had grown to love without a single word. For the first time, Noah was doing something for himself and while it was a difficult thing to do, he stuck by his actions and stayed away from the city. He ventured out into Colorado alone, quickly settling down in Fort Collins. For a couple of weeks, he was happy. Noah no longer needed to worry about anybody but himself. He didn’t have to do anything for anyone and was able to take care of himself. Sure, it was selfish, but it was also the much-needed break that Noah had subconsciously longed for. His mental health improved as the days went by but still, even with all of the stressors being gone, Noah found himself missing them. All of those people who cared for him and who he cared for were all the way in Cheyenne, probably under the impression that he was dead. Guilt began to eat away at him and before he could stop himself, Noah’s things were packed up again and he was hot-wiring a car to get back to Cheyenne. Though he had only been gone for a few weeks, Noah felt like a complete stranger again. His camp that he had come to love had lost people and gained people and because of this, Noah felt that it was pointless to return there. Instead, he decided to try life as a rogue. That way he could live close to his friends, but still, have the ability to be on his own and not constantly worry about the people he lived with.