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#DELTA NU chapter
gamma-xi-delta · 2 years
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The Kappa Delta Chi sorority at Emporia State is fundraising for a scholarship they created called the My Dream, My Future scholarship for ...
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hoshologies · 10 months
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ALL GREEK LOVE, LEE H.
synopsis — you spent the entire summer telling your family that you weren't going to join a sorority. now not only are you an initiated member of delta eta sigma, but you've been elected to the social chair position for you chapter. that's all well and good until heeseung lee, the newly elected social chairman for lambda rho and well-known in the greek community, reaches out to you to start planning runouts between your respective chapters. and now you're spending a lot more time with the cutest boy you've ever met.
genres &&. warnings — romance, fluff, meet-cute, smut, strangers to friends to lovers!au, college!au, greek life!au &&. underage drinking, afab!reader, tipsy sex, dry humping, oral (f!receiving), fingering, overstimulation.
word count — 15.7k.
from the author — not to be totally sorority girl, but the way i see greek life depicted in college au fics is CRAZY. now that i'm back hardcore into my kpop stan era, i rewatched the drunk-dazed mv and was like hmm... so the ultimate plan here was to write heeseung filth but also portray greek life a little more accurately because even if i'm not a huge fan, one thing about me is i'm gonna make sure y'all KNOW that greek life isn't just parties every weekend.
jokes aside, i really hope you enjoy this fic and my first real return to writing. likes, reblogs, and feedback are always welcome. and honestly, if you have any questions about greek life that you just have to know the answer to, i'm an open book.
if you enjoyed it, feel free to buy me a ko-fi!
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the entire summer before starting your freshman year of college, you had told your family that you weren’t going to join a sorority. in your mind, there was a specific mold that one needed to fit into to join a sorority and quite frankly, you checked none of the boxes of those stereotypes. 
yet here you sit, months later, in your sorority’s chapter meeting. and you’ve just been elected to the social chair position of the chi nu chapter of delta eta sigma. 
truthfully, you’re not quite sure how you ended up here. you hadn’t formally rushed the week before school, but a couple of drunk girls at a frat party at the beginning of the semester had told you that you should rush their sorority. maybe you’d been a little desperate to branch out or maybe you were just a little curious of what rushing looked like, but a few days later at the student organization fair, you’d found the booth for the sorority the girls had told you they belonged to, delta eta sigma, and signed up for their informal rush.
by the end of october, you had been extended a bid, assigned a big, and promptly initiated into the chapter in what you jokingly referred to as a cult ritual (how could you describe it any other way? all white outfit? candles? promises to not divulge secrets about rituals that happen behind closed doors?).
and now, just three weeks after officially joining the chapter, you’ve ended up on the programming board somehow. you’d gotten a call from the selection board while sitting in the drive-thru of mcdonalds, waiting impatiently for your order of fries and a sprite as a treat for doing well on your gen psych quiz. the girl who’d called you said you’d made “quite the impression” on the sorority since accepting the bid and that they (including the chapter advisor) thought you’d be the perfect fit for the social chair.
“it’s a solo position, so you won’t have a co-chair like community service does, but given your grades so far this semester and the impact you’ve made on the chapter already, we would really love to see what you can do in this position! would you be interested?”
so really, how could you say anything but yes? you still don’t think you fit all that perfectly into the chapter, but they were giving you an opportunity to get involved and to make yourself fit. your name is announced for the social chair, one of your senior pictures pasted up on the powerpoint, and the girls around you smile and snap their fingers. from the executive board seats up front, your big smiles at you, eyes sparkling with something akin to pride.
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a few days later, as you’re getting lunch at the student union, your phone screen lights up with a notification from groupme. a name you vaguely recognize is paired with a message that gets cut off after a few words.
heeseung lee: hey! this is heeseung from lambda rho and…
as you sit down with your salad and dr. pepper, you click the notification and read it in full. at the very top of the new message thread is heeseung’s picture and it clicks where you recognize him from. he’s friends with your big and he’s involved in a few of the bigger student organizations on campus, namely the activities board, so you’ve seen him in the student union fairly often.
[1:36 pm] heeseung lee: hey! this is heeseung from lambda rho! i’m friends with liv and she told me that you just got elected as the new social chair for your sorority. i just got slated into the same position for my frat.
[1:36 pm] heeseung lee: i know we won’t start running things until next semester, but i just wanted to reach out and touch base with you. i’m really looking forward to planning runouts with you next year :]
[1:37 pm] heeseung lee: sorry. i hope that wasn’t too weird. i guess i’m just a little too excited and want to get a bit of a headstart on things. have a good day!
you laugh to yourself, shaking your head as you set the phone down to take a bite of salad. before getting involved in greek life, you always assumed sorority girls and frat guys were airheaded and mean, people who peaked in high school, trying desperately to drag those glory days out. obviously since then, you’ve come to realize that while it is true in some occasions, most times, greek life members are the opposite.
heeseung, who you’ve never spoken to before, is proving that.
[1:42 pm] hi heeseung! not weird at all, i promise. and i’m really excited to plan events with you next semester too :]
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by the beginning of february, you haven’t done much with your position. granted, the semester has only really been in full swing for about a week and a half and you have two full semesters to do plenty of things, but you’re itching to start planning. the binder you were given after the officer transition ritual has so many good ideas, everything from runouts with frats and sororities to both formal and semiformal.
while you’re brainstorming ideas for potential social events late on a tuesday night, your phone lights up from its spot on your nightstand, the short bell sound ringing out. you reach for it absentmindedly as you finish writing down the idea you had (rent out skating rink??? check budget). since the beginning of the school year, you’ve become desensitized to the groupme icon when it appears in your notifications, so much so that you barely register heeseung’s name upon first glance. it takes a second look for you to realize who’s texted you.
[9:12 pm] heeseung lee: sorry for texting so late. i just wanted to see if you wanted to meet up some time and start on some ideas for a runout?
[9:12 pm] heeseung lee: obviously not now!! but if you’re free some time this week, we could meet somewhere and talk. i spent all of winter break brainstorming stuff, so i’d really like to run it by you if that’s ok.
[9:14 pm] hi again heeseung. i was actually planning on getting lunch tomorrow at the student union after i’m done with class at 11 if you’re free then?
the second you press send, you immediately start second guessing yourself. does it come off like you’re asking him to have lunch with you? because that wasn’t your intention. really, you just meant that you’re going to be on campus proper for a little bit and wanted to offer to meet before you got lunch. not that it would be a bad thing if he asked if you could get lunch together; liv likes heeseung well enough and you’ve seen him around, and he really does seem nothing but nice, so lunch really couldn’t hurt— okay, take a breath. it is not that serious.
you take a deep breath and then let your muscles go lax as you exhale. better. 
it feels like ages pass before he texts back. you’re worried you’ve scared him off, but it really shouldn’t be that stressful. it’s just a text and he’s the one who wanted to meet up in the first place anyways; you just offered a time and location. but finally, your phone dings again and his name lights up your screen.
[9:21 pm] heeseung lee: actually that works perfect!! i get out of class at the same time and usually grab lunch at the u before heading to the activities board office. wanna meet by the dining area next to the office?
[9:21 pm] sounds like a plan!! i’ll see you then!
heeseung, you realize as you set your phone down and put away your binder for the night, is the only social chair of any of the greek organizations who has reached out to you to start getting the ball rolling. he seems to be just as anxious as you are about doing this job well, which makes you feel at least a little validated. nervous and jittery though you may be about meeting him for the first time tomorrow after only having chatted with him over text twice, the idea of him feeling the same as you brings a strange form of comfort. with enough of it, you actually start looking forward to seeing him tomorrow as you lay down to sleep, mind running a mile a minute with what it’ll be like to meet him after all of the things you’ve heard about him from liv. by the time you slip into the embrace of sleep, anxiety has boiled down into anticipation.
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at 11:02 the next morning, heeseung nearly scares the hell out of you when he shows up at the designated meeting spot. you’re so invested in your twitter scroll that you don’t notice when he walks up. it’s not until he says a soft “hi” that you jump and almost drop your phone in the process. when you look up, there’s a worried look on his face.
“sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you!” 
after a moment to catch your breath, you shake your head and wave his worry off, though the gesture doesn’t do much to make that worried look on his (undeniably pretty) face. “it’s okay, heeseung. really.”
to really seal the deal, you shoot him a gentle smile, trying to prove that your heart isn’t about ready to give out anymore. you feel blessed when he returns it, all quirked up at the corners and smile lines and soft, plush cheeks. silence falls, the two of you smiling and staring at each other like idiots until heeseung shakes himself out of his stupor.
“anyways…” he clears his throat and moves his gaze towards the food court. “what did you want to get to eat? my treat.”
you look up at him, at the way he’s pointedly not looking at you and instead examining the restaurants just beyond the dining areas. you know, the restaurants that have been the same for the last five years probably and will be here for another five, the ones he’s grabbed food from at least a couple of times since the semester started and even more since the beginning of the school year. 
“you don’t have to buy me lunch, heeseung. it’s-”
he finally turns to look at you again, that same easy smile still pulling his features into a soft form of happiness. “it’s no problem, really. just an act of good faith. all greek love and whatnot, you know?”
you laugh a little at that, conceding but allowing him to choose where he wants to get lunch from since he’s the one paying and you don’t really have a preference. by the time you’re sat opposite each other at a table with meals from the burger stall, your stomach is rumbling. you’re about half of the way through your burger when heeseung looks up from his fries, clearing his throat to get your attention.
“so…” he starts. it’s clear he hadn’t planned what he wanted to say before catching your focus, so an awkward silence settles over him, eyes on you but focused somewhere off behind you like he’s looking through you instead. you tilt your head, lean in close, which snaps him out of the trance and he restarts. “right, ideas for events. i have a binder from the last social chair of my frat with a bunch of things he did during his time.”
“oh! i do, too!” you interject. “there’s a bunch of stuff that the last girl did and then things some of the girls before her did too.”
heeseung’s grin breaks back across his face, bright and warm; you swear, a smile from this boy alone could break up the threatening winter storm currently hanging over campus. “there’s a bunch of good ideas in mine. but i’m not quite sure how well they’d work right now because of the weather.”
“are most of the ideas outside?” you inquire, taking a sip of your soda while he confirms your suspicions. when you put the cup back down, you wave off his concern. “no worries then. almost all of mine are ones that can be inside, so we could go through those if you want!”
heeseung nods and smiles that morning sunlight smile of his, and you can’t move quick enough to pull the thin pink binder out of your tote bag. he clears away some of the trash from the table so you can lay out the binder, intro page on full display. for the next five minutes, the pair of you pore over the pages upon pages of ideas, sleek white cut through with black ink that lists the idea, the locations, how much it costs. 
you’re so invested in going over everything with him that you hardly acknowledge when heeseung stands and moves into the open seat beside you so neither one of you is craning your neck. you simply adjust the binder so you can read through the pages comfortably. it isn’t until heeseung points one out excitedly and you look up in startle that you finally notice that he isn’t a foot away but inches, noses just centimeters apart.
right now, this is the most compromising position you could possibly be in with a boy you hardly know and you find yourself praying that nobody from either of your chapters decides to walk by. of course, neither of you have anything to hide – this is a simple brainstorming session, of course, absolutely nothing more – but liv and your small group of friends would never let you live this down if they saw it.
heeseung clears his throat after seconds that stretch into years and you break your gaze from his painfully (how can you be blamed for staring? he’s that soft kind of pretty that hypnotizes). “um… so i think rollerskating could be fun…”
it is a good event that your sorority has done with the other frats and sororities in the past, one that you were playing around with as a potential plan to pitch to him. the fact that he picked it out on his own accord makes you bristle with something akin to pride, a feeling so warm and comforting it has you leaning just a little closer to him.
let the girls see me, you think as your sweater-clad shoulder brushes against his own. there are worse things they could catch me doing.
“actually… this was one of the ones i was going to suggest if you didn’t find any that you were really interested in…” you say quietly, voice nearly lost in the din of the dining area of the student union.
heeseung looks at you, blinking slow and round and soft, as if each flutter of his eyelids is a moment of his brain processing your words. “really… maybe it’s a sign…?”
his voice is just as soft, matching your energy in one swift go. you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing as you, if he’s feeling that it seems like you’ve known one another forever despite only knowing each other for fifteen minutes max; it seems like your souls themselves are in complete synergy, so why would it be so farfetched to wonder if maybe you knew each other in a different life to have caused that synchrony?
you laugh a little and shrug, shoulder brushing against his softly; the movement is short and sweet, but your heart rises in you like the high tide, washing through your veins with foam and salt and the kind of breeze only the ocean can bring, chill and warm all at once. “maybe so.”
silence settles over the table like sand stirred on the ocean floor, the both of you lost in your own worlds. heeseung has dragged his soda to this side of the table and sips absentmindedly, gaze focused miles beyond the horizon of the hallway. he’s completely checked out when your consciousness wanders back into your body and you take the moment to study him a little: the even slope of his nose, high cheekbones paired with plush skin, long eyelashes that brush the apex of his cheeks when he blinks, a flutter of dark against light. 
there are worse boys you could be caught staring at.
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you’re still thinking about your lunch with heeseung hours later, even when you’re out getting your weekly tuesday night ice cream with your big. liv is going on about how her professor for her linguistics class pissed her off during lecture today, but you’re not absorbing a single word of any of it. you remember vaguely that he openly disagreed with her during the lecture and they got into a debate in front of the whole class, but beyond that, you don’t know much else.
“god, he’s just the worst. i can’t believe– alright, you’re in the stratosphere right now. what’s going on?”
you snap back to reality, eyes wide and goosebumps prickling up under the sleeves of your sweater. you shake your head, trying to brush away the conversation she’s trying to prompt, even though it’ll be futile because liv can’t let things go for the life of her. “nothing! everything’s fine, i swear.”
liv’s eyes narrow and a single dark eyebrow quirks up. “yeah, i’m not buying it.”
you glare playfully at her, eating a spoonful of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. when you swallow, you answer with a pointed, “when do you buy anything i say? really, liv. it’s nothing.”
“did someone say something to you? i’m part of panhellenic and on the all-greek council. if someone did something, i can handle it.”
you shake your head earnestly and wave a hand for extra emphasis. “olivia. seriously. nothing happened.”
your big is silent for a few moments, studying you intently. her shady blue eyes, usually wistful and giving the impression of being miles away herself, cut right down to your very bone, as if she’ll find the answer she’s looking for written into your skin or soul, carved into your heart. eventually, she sighs and slumps back against the booth.
“alright, fine. i’ll believe you this time,” she says in a voice that hints at disappointment. “but you’d tell me if someone did say something to you, right? i’m serious about getting things taken care of if someone does something like that to you.”
you smile, reach across the table, rest your hand over her. “yes, liv. i would tell you if somebody treated me badly. you’re the only friend i have who would be willing to go to jail if needed. but i promise the situation doesn’t call for that right now.”
she perks up a little at your words and takes a deep breath, nodding. she’s back to her bubbly self, resuming her rant about her asshole linguistics professor who definitely shouldn’t have tenure. the whiplash her behavior gives you definitely just secured her an award for “most melodramatic” at formal in april (which, fuck you have to start planning that soon too).
you remain checked into liv’s rant, assenting when she asks you for your opinions on this professor who you’ve never met and never plan on meeting, and offering advice when she wants it. but you still find yourself wandering off at times, mind focused on heeseung.
you’re not sure why you don’t want to tell her about meeting with the boy earlier; she’s one of his friends and she’s always spoken so highly about him, so you shouldn’t feel embarrassed. in fact, she’s mentioned in passing a couple of times (mostly when she’s undeniably hammered) that she thinks you and heeseung would make a cute couple, even though she’s never seen the two of you interact, let alone exist in the same room.
but there’s something special about the thirty minutes you shared with heeseung. you met in a public place, sure, but something about it felt and still feels so sacred to you. it’s something you want to keep a secret for at least a little while. that soft sunshine smile and the low tide brushes of shoulders are things that, for now, belong solely to you and heeseung. it won’t kill liv to be left out of the loop for a while.
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“do you think we should have it closer to midterms?” heeseung’s voice is pure static, like he’s going through a tunnel, even though there’s only half a campus worth of distance between you.
the two of you have graduated from groupme dms to phone calls over the course of three days. heeseung is saved affectionately in your phone as sseung with the deer emoji, one that you picked out as he sat across from you after you’d exchanged numbers; he doesn’t know about it, but he reminds you often of a deer caught in headlights with the way he stares at you all wide-eyed when you try to catch his attention.
“maybe? but people have to study. i’m not sure how often your guys are in the library, but i see at least thirty girls at the library every single night, so i’m not sure how willing they’d be to give up a night of studying, even if it is only for an hour, that close to midterms.”
heeseung’s small, thoughtful hmm is audible over the speaker and you smile to yourself over a basket of clean laundry. you’ve spent maybe three hours max with him over the last couple of days and already you have a pretty decent grasp on his personality and habits. right now, you can picture the way he likely looks up from his phone or planner and stares off past the beige cinderblock wall of his dorm room, turning possibilities over in his head.
“no, you’re right about that. i didn’t even consider it.”
you shrug as though he can see you, folding a pair of sweats and setting them to the side. “i’d definitely like for it to be soonish though. it doesn’t have to be planned super far in advance, you know what i mean? we’ve still got… what? a month until midterms?”
“i think so, yeah.”
you nod to yourself, hanging up one of your shirts. “okay, so what about two weeks from now? that lands us right in between now and midterms, so it’d be a happy medium.”
he’s silent on the other end of the line and you pause in your hanging of another shirt, worried that he’s thinking you’re stupid. of course, heeseung would never think anything like that about anyone because he’s the sweetheart to end all sweethearts. still, you worry because what this boy thinks of you is ridiculously imperative to your day to day functions.
three days, you remind yourself. you’ve known him for three days. there’s no reason for his opinions to hold this much weight.
you wonder if heeseung knows just how easy it is to like him, to be around him; if he knows just how much you want to see him all the time because he’s completely taken over your every waking thought. liv’s comments about him made in passing never could have truly captured just how amazing he is, nice and caring and so so pretty. you’re almost embarrassed to be this head over heels for him, but when he laughs over the phone or focuses all of his attention on you over a table in the food court, that mortification burns away into something soft and sweet and slow.
“i think that’s a great idea. not too soon, so we can make sure our chapters know it’s happening, but not too late that it disrupts any midterm studying.”
you breathe a sigh of relief and smile to yourself, resting your hands against the lip of the laundry basket. the rational part of your brain knew he was going to agree, but the part of you that so desperately craves his approval was disgustingly terrified that you wouldn’t receive it. now that you have, though, a heat rushes through you, pride warm and bright because you offered a good solution to the minuscule obstacle.
“yeah, exactly!”
you can just imagine the grin on heeseung’s face right now, delicate like freshly fallen snow. the image fills you with the giddiness of a high school girl, glad to be the one to have caused such a beautiful sight. “okay, cool. i’ll talk about it with the executive board, get it approved and whatnot, but i think we should be set, besides who’s paying for what.”
“what do you mean?” you question, brows furrowing as you finish up the last of your laundry.
“what do you mean?” there’s a playful, teasing edge in his voice. “someone has to pay to book the rink and the shoes, and don’t you think there should be snacks?”
“oh… yeah, i guess so.”
“so i was thinking we’d cover the booking and you could cover the food… but only if you’re cool with that! obviously, it’s not a big deal or anything, but i figured we should get that in order too so we can a specific date set and everything.”
“no, no! that works fine for me! i honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead, so it’s a good thing you did.” the line falls silent for a few moments, static crackling softly between you. there’s just something about the idea that you’re so close yet so far from each other, physically distant but holding each other close like this over a quiet cellphone line. it’s comforting to have him like this, you find.
“but yeah…” you break the stillness with your voice soft so as to not completely shatter the tranquility you’ve cultivated here. “that’s… that’s good thinking, heeseung.”
“hanks…” his own words mimic the same volume, nearly lost in the haze of the phone. “so… i’ll run it by the exec board and let you know?”
you hum a quick mhmm and tell him that you’ll do the same. there should be no reason that you’ll be denied, but the fact that liv, seeing as she’s vice president of programming, is part of the exec board and will find out that you’ve been, at the very least, talking to heeseung on a semi-regular basis (see: every day this week since tuesday afternoon) is a little nerve wracking, mostly because you’re ninety-nine percent sure she’s been hinting at trying to set the two of you up.
and when you say hinting, you mean pointing him out on campus or at parties and saying something like “really, i think you two would get along so well! you should go and talk to him.”
she was right about that, but the last thing you need right now is her finding out that you are catching feelings, all without her meddling. but you’ll make peace with the fact because you have to.
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liv sidles up to you two weeks later on a thursday night, knit-clad arms crossed over her chest. you don’t even have to look at her to know she’s wearing a smug expression right now. “so…”
you don’t even physically react to her presence, instead choosing to gaze out over the rollerskating rink in your little college town. “so… what, liv?”
she nudges you with her shoulder and leans with her back against the wall separating the rink floor from the carpet of the sitting area. “you and heeseung, huh? i’ve been telling you for ages that the two of you would get along!”
you scoff playfully and roll your eyes, finally turning your head to look at her. “can you not start sentences like that?”
“like what?” she asks innocently.
“like heeseung and i have something going on. all we did was plan one runout together. we’ve only met, like, one time in person.”
you regret the words almost as soon as they leave the tip of your tongue because the second she hears the phrase “in person,” she’s already causing a scene. even though her voice is somewhat drowned out by the music blasting over the speakers, the absolute tenacity with which she gestures with her entire body draws more attention than it should. melodramatic as per usual.
“in person? when was this? and why was i not informed?” the questions liv asks a million times come out more like exclamations than anything else, too caught up in melodramatic distress to adjust the tone of her voice correctly.
you shrug absently, turning your head back towards the rink. heeseung is standing on the opposite side, talking to a few of the guys from his frat. he looks nice in his blue and green sweater and loose jeans, brown hair tousled from the winter breeze outside. “a couple weeks ago. and i didn’t tell you because it just wasn’t that important. we literally only had lunch just to talk about ideas for this.”
liv whines your name and stomps a foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “yeah, but i’m your big. i wanna know these things! and i’ve also been trying to set you two up forever! you didn’t think i’d want to know that you’d finally met him, even if it wasn’t because of anything i’d plan? my feelings are hurt.”
“first, this is exactly why one of the awards for formal this semester is going to be most over dramatic and exactly why you’re going to win,” you start, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “second, i knew you would want to know, but i also knew this is how you’d react. i didn’t think you’d want to know about us setting up an event together, like… there’s no tea to spill or whatever. it’s just boring stuff. i don’t even know him that well.”
a bold-faced lie if you’ve ever told one; you know heeseung down to the cologne he puts on every morning. and maybe there was a little more to the event planning sessions. at least five times over the past two weeks, heeseung has approached you either in the food court or at the library, and taken the seat opposite of you to chat and study a bit. not to mention, you’ve texted every single day since the two of you officially met for the first time.
but again: nothing liv needs to know. heeseung, for now, is just your little secret. the conversations you’ve shared, the little details you know about him, the sweater he’d given you a few days ago when you’d gotten cold at the library and your own sweater had gotten soaking wet due to rain and your lack of an umbrella, those are your things, special and personal and entirely yours.
“ugh. the two of you are so boring,” liv moans dramatically, tipping her head back. “i hope you hang out more after this, but only if you tell me about it.”
you shrug and glance back across the rink. heeseung has shifted positions, his arms crossed over the railing and by some stroke of luck, he’s looking at you, looking otherworldly under the shifting blue and purple lights. he smiles softly, just a quick phantom of a grin, and the only think you can do is return it with that same gentleness and warmth.
“maybe,” you say, glancing over at liv and then back at heeseung. “i guess we’ll just have to see.”
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a week later, you’re sitting in your dorm room on a friday night, finalizing edits for a midterm paper, when there’s a banging at your door fifteen minutes before ten.
“heyyy! let me innn!” liv’s voice is airy and slurred through the door, so you can already guess what she’s here for.
with a heavy sigh, you stand and make your way to the door, opening it and finding your big leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway. she’s dressed in her usual party attire: ripped jeans, black tank top, dirty shoes reserved specifically for the sticky basement floors of frat houses. she’s holding a metal water bottle in her hands; you can only guess what she’s mixed in it tonight.
“what’s up, liv?” you ask, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe, even though you don’t need an answer. you hadn’t anticipated her being here, so you’re already decked out in your comfy night clothes, prepared for a night in only. 
“lambda is throwing a party and you’re going with me,” she says peppily, practically jumping up and throwing herself into your room.
“liv-“
she whips around on her heels to face you, eyes glowing in the soft gold of your fairy lights. “no fighting me on this. you’ve been working hard and you need a break. so you’re going to dress like the hot bitch you are and then we’re going to lambda.”
liv is rooted to the spot, though she sways a little on her feet, and makes it known without words that she is not moving until you get ready for this dumb frat party. eager to get her drunken glare off of you, you sigh and nod, closing the door behind you, shutting off your desk light, and moving towards your wardrobe, rifling through the hangers to find a proper outfit.
you’ve been to lambda rho’s house before and it is nothing to write home about… unless, of course, you’re talking about how absolutely filthy the basement is; they have the best sized basement out of all of the frats on campus, but you swear they have never done anything to clean the floor. the first time you went, you’d been having a great time drinking well-mixed jungle juice and dancing to the best songs of the 2010s when you noticed that every step you took sounded like velcro. the floor was so sticky that you were literally having to put pressure behind pulling your shoes from the concrete. it totally killed the vibe.
but the jungle juice and occasional jello shots are great, so you persevere. besides, lambda throws the best parties on campus and you’re clearly the person to trust on party hot takes since you only go back to frats you have a good time at (sorry, sigma pi).
plus, heeseung is in lambda rho and he has to be there since he’s the social chair and all, so… you note that out of the maybe five parties you’ve been to there since the beginning of the school year, you’ve never once seen him. granted, he’s only required to be at any parties hosted while he’s the social chairman, so maybe he just didn’t go to any last semester. or maybe he’s a wallflower like you, choosing to stand on the outskirts instead of in the center of attention.
lost in your haze of heeseung thoughts, you don’t really register that you’ve finished dressing and that liv has sat you down at your desk to fix your hair. somehow, while very much drunk, your big has an easy time styling it. she’s focused intensely on the task at hand, but also manages to carry on a one-sided conversation, not realizing that you’re not responding to her. but when she moves her hands from your head and sets them on the back of your chair, you’re amazed; she’s always been good at styling and fashion (hence why she’s been in charge of the homecoming student org dance and cheer competition every fall for the last two years), but you weren’t expecting her skills to be up to par while buzzed to hell and back.
“there we go, ready to wow heeseung,” liv says matter-of-factly, a proud look on her face. when you glare at her through the mirror, she smiles and shrugs lazily, reaching to grab her water bottle and phone from your desk. “what? he’ll be there tonight and i’ve heard through the grape vine that he might have a little crush on you, so…”
you whip around at her words, hands braced against the back of your chair. something like liquid anxiety prickles under your skin, sending goosebumps across your arms. liv is friends with just about everyone in greek life, so “the grape vine” could quite literally mean anybody, but who did she find that out from anyways? when did heeseung say anything like that? did he even actually say that or is she just deadset on shipping the two of you together until it either happens or falls through?
“what?”
she looks back at you over her shoulder, one hand resting on the doorknob and your dorm keys in the other. there’s a mischievous glint in her dark eyes and your heart drops; how did you get such a schemer as a big? “oh, yeah. i was hanging out at the lambda house the other night with yeonjun. you know? heeseung’s big? and he maybe mentioned something about it. why do you wanna know?”
she sidles back up to you, pulling you out of the chair by your shoulders. “do you maybe… i don’t know… like him back? why are you so nervous?”
you shake your head, trying to will the goosebumps on your arms and lightning in your veins away. you’ve claimed a million times over the last few weeks that there is nothing more going on between you and that boy, no matter how pretty or sweet you might think he is. heeseung is just a friend, someone you just so happened to click really well with and just so happened to plan a really fun event with. there’s nothing else to say about it or the way you get excited when his name shows up on your phone or how your day immediately gets better when he walks up to you at the library without texting you first, your favorite snack and coffee in hand and a smile on his face.
there’s nothing there to unpack. you think.
“i’m not nervous. and i bet yeonjun just misheard heeseung. the two of us are just friends. i’ve told you that a million times and i’m sure he’s said the same thing.”
liv just laughs and ushers you towards the door. “okay, okay… sure, sweetheart. let’s get over there before they run out of alcohol.”
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jay, the self-appointed dj for every lambda rho party, is blasting year 3000 by the jonas brothers when you and liv arrive in the basement. there’s already a large group of bodies on the dance floor, but the bar area is still pretty crowded and getting worse. liv links her arm with yours so that you won’t get separated, even though there’s no chance of you getting lost or anything.
the two of you make your way towards the bar where yeonjun is “bartending,” a term he insists on using despite the fact that all he does is pour cups of vibrant red jungle juice. blonde hair hangs over his forehead and his skin is glistening with sweat already, looking weirdly ethereal under the colorful lights that fill the room. when he sets eyes on you and liv, he smiles brightly and leans against the bartop.
“hey, you two! glad you finally showed up!” he shouts over the music. “jungle juice?”
liv nods enthusiastically, mimicking his posture and crossing her arms on top of the counter. “yes please! any chances you have jello shots tonight too?”
the boy looks around before he leans in closer to answer. “don’t tell anyone else, but i made some just for you two since you’re my favorite customers.”
liv rolls her eyes and swats at his bicep, but she’s smiling anyways. “we’re not customers, jun. you’re not even getting paid to do this. when are you gonna stop acting like you’re a real bartender, huh?”
he clenches his hand over his heart and stumbles backwards, feigning pain. “you wound me so, liv. i did something nice for you and this is how you repay me. i can’t believe this!”
but in the midst of his monologue, he bends over to open a mini fridge behind the bar and returns with a couple of jello shots. he tells you to take them here while he gets your drinks and hide them the best you can so nobody gets up in arms that he’s providing something outside of the night’s menu. he’s always been especially nice to you, mostly because of liv and his undying love for her (though platonic or romantic, you’ve never been exactly sure about), so it’s all you can do to thank him and listen to his pleads for secrecy regarding the contraband jello shots. when he’s back above bar, you switch off, him discreetly tossing the small cups in the trash.
liv, finally armed with her precious red solo cup, turns to talk to some other friends, leaving you and yeonjun alone. the music is so loud you can hardly keep your thoughts straight, which is great for keeping your mind off of what liv said earlier, but doesn’t last long when yeonjun leans in ever closer, his cologne enveloping you entirely.
“you should thank heeseung for the jello shots, by the way. i honestly hadn’t even thought to make some for you and liv because i was busy with other stuff, but he asked about making some since he knows they’re your favorite.”
your heart clenches a little at the idea that heeseung wanted to make sure that you had things you liked at his frat’s party. it’s nice to have someone looking out for small things like that, even if it means breaking a rule or two. yeonjun rests his hand on top of your head and pats gently, a knowing look in his eyes.
“listen, i know that you swear up and down the wall that you and him are just friends, but for what it’s worth, he likes you a lot. he just won’t say it. you know him. he’s kinda bad with words. it’s not really my place to make his confession for him, but just… you know. give him a chance.”
you nod dumbly and give him a half-baked smile when he pulls his hand off your head. a few girls walk up, vying for their own drinks, so you take that as your cue to walk away, red solo cup cradled in your hands. any hope of not thinking about heeseung lee has been completely undone by both liv and yeonjun. 
suddenly, you are far too sober.
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two hours later, you’re five drinks in, only kept track of by the cups you have in your hand, and you’re feeling pleasantly buzzed. the lights are a little brighter, the music a little louder, liv’s arm hot and grounding around your shoulders. she’s completely gone, despite the fact that she’s only had three cups of jungle juice. she’s serenading you with dancing queen by abba, somehow getting every single word wrong. 
“fuck, i’m way too drunk for this,” she says, breaking off a line in the middle of the second verse. “i’ll sing for you next time. promise.”
you laugh and lean against her, shaking your head. “okay, livvie. sounds good.” you’re content to end your sentence there, but you have an increasing awareness of how hot it’s gotten. the amount of people packed into the basement, especially in the center of the dancefloor like this, has contributed greatly to the heat and you need some time to cool down before it makes you sick. “listen, ‘m gonna get some air. ‘t’s getting really hot.”
liv nods and hugs you to her, voice chipper but slurred heavily. “‘kay! i’ll see you in a few.” she lets you go and breaks out into the next song, somehow worse than dancing queen.
you slip out of the crowd, already feeling a little cooler now that you’ve escaped from the hot press of bodies. standing on the outskirts of the dancefloor, you consider your options. there’s the open window that a cool breeze passes through or the door by yeonjun’s bar, which you know leads directly outside with a staircase up to the back deck. while you initially planned to be within arm’s reach for liv’s sake, your ears are starting to ring from the loud music and the choice is made for you.
you wave to yeonjun as you make your way towards the door. he pauses and leans over to ask you if you’re leaving, looking a little concerned, but you shake your head and tell him what you told liv. and then you tack on the information that she’s incredibly drunk, so he should watch out for her because knowing her, she’ll be tapping out sooner rather than later. he nods in understanding and lets you go, turning back to the two frat guys, jake and chan, that are standing at the bar.
the temperature difference between the basement and outside right now is jarring, but welcomed nonetheless. you carefully traverse the stairs, not quite confident in yourself to take them confidently, seeing as your sight is currently swimming a little and your head is light. getting to the top is a feat and you feel immediately better once you’re on the back deck.
you’re so out of it that you don’t realize you aren’t alone as you lean against the railing, reveling in the way the wood digs into your forearms and the chill bites at you through the sheer long sleeves of your black shirt. you’re still very much buzzed, but you feel a little more clear-headed now that you can hear yourself think.
the sound of your name startles you and you swear you jump ten feet in the air before you whip around, hand against your heart. heeseung is halfway out the back door, a cup in his hand and that deer caught in the headlights expression you’ve come to know well over the last month or so. 
“jesus, heeseung. you scared the shit out of me!” you say, catching your breath and leaning back against the railing.
“i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to!” he finishes stepping out of the house and onto the deck with you, the door swinging shut behind him. he’s so earnest in his apology that you can’t help but smile, dropping your hand and instead taking a sip from your drink that you carried out here with you.
“you have a habit of sneaking up on me, huh?”
he joins you at the railing, leaning against it the way you are, and raises his own cup to his lips (perfect and plush and pink… enough of that). he shrugs as he drinks, wincing when it goes down rougher than he expected. the liquid that sloshes against the side is not the same color as yours, so you can only assume that one of the guys gave him something a little stronger than whatever they threw together for the jungle juice.
“i guess so,” he says through a small cough. “i don’t mean to, if that makes it any better.”
you laugh a little, nudging him with your shoulder. “it’s not a big deal, if that makes you feel better. i think it’s kinda funny.”
heeseung smiles at that and nods, keeping his eyes trained on the drink in his cup. it’s only when you’re committing his side profile to drunken memory that you realize the blush that’s crept up the back of his neck onto his cheeks and the tip of his ears. except, that sober voice inside your head argues it could just be from the cold. 
but neither of you have been out long enough for that to be the case. it’s not even that cold out here, just a little bit chilly. drunk you is having sneaking suspicions, ones that sober you would never entertain, and this is the first time you’re seeing heeseung at one of his frat’s parties, so you might as well take advantage of it all as much as you can.
“yeonjun told me what you did… the jello shots for me and liv, i mean,” you clarify the second you realize how the first sentence sounds without context. “thanks. i didn’t think you were really paying attention to that kind of stuff.”
heeseung turns his head to look at you, eyes a little wide but that soft, perfect smile offsets it nicely. he looks a little surprised that you found out about it, but not upset that yeonjun mentioned it.
“well… i mean, of course i do. that’s kinda… what i do, you know?”
he’s beating around the bush. yeonjun was right; heeseung never talks about his feelings and he sure as hell won’t offer you the words you’re waiting to hear right now. so, drunk you reasons, why is the only way to confess through words? he’s shown you how much he cares, he’s been doing it for weeks now. maybe you were suppressing your own feelings to keep liv off your back about it all, but in doing so, you’ve been diminishing heeseung’s own attempts at telling you. 
this whole thing with him has never been simply friends. love at first sight feels a little much, but you certainly have something between you and you have for weeks on end at this point. maybe it’s time to reward this beautiful boy for being so patient with you.
just as he’s beginning to turn his head away to look back towards the house, you set your cup on the railing and capture his face in your hands. there’s no moment for either of you to process what’s happening, just that one minute there’s a platonic amount of distance between you and the next, your lips are on his and it is warm and unpracticed and still unbelievably perfect. heeseung goes pliant and soft under your touch, his free hand resting gently on the small of your back. his fingers curl gently into your shirt, tethering himself to you. his other hand is still grasping his solo cup and you find yourself wishing he’d just drop the damn thing, even if it means the both of your shoes get soaked in whatever he’d been served (whiskey, you’d guess, from the smokey taste on his tongue).
he’s the first to pull away, eyes still closed for moments after. his breaths come shallow and his cheeks have gone impossibly red, his hand still against your back. you study him from this angle, closer than you’ve ever been, and somehow, you’re finding him prettier than ever before. maybe it’s the alcohol talking or the sudden lovesickness for him, but you don’t care because you finally kissed heeseung lee and left him breathless.
“what- um… what was that for?” he asks quietly, eyes fluttering open. his pupils are blown wide and awestruck (you think that’s the right word in your jungle juice induced haze).
you shrug, inching yourself a little closer towards him. he turns to meet you so your bodies run parallel to each other and finally sets his offending cup on the railing next to yours. “got tired waiting for you t’make a move.”
he makes a sound in the back of his throat and turns his head to look elsewhere, as if looking at you might make him drop dead. any doubt you had from earlier in the night that he’d told yeonjun that he liked you is swept away in a single moment; he can deny it all he wants now, but you already know the truth, so what’s the point?
“liv told me that she heard through the grape vine that you liked me…” you say softly, voice trailing off into the muffled sounds of a kesha song blasting in the basement. “is that… true?”
you watch as he draws a deep breath, squeezes his eyes closed, steels himself for whatever answer he’s about to give. with all your liquid courage now, confessing might not have been a big deal, but you know that if you’d been sober, it would be just as hard as this. but you swear you saw him drinking jungle juice down in the basement an hour and a half ago, and now he’s drinking something stronger, so he must be so naturally shy that not even alcohol can wipe it out.
finally, he lets his breath out and focuses his attention on you again, his eyes soft and pleading. don’t break my heart. please.
“yeah… yeah, i got a little drunk last weekend and told yeonjun that i thought i had feelings for you when he got me back to my dorm. i’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable or if it ruins our friendship. i j–”
you kiss him again, hot and heavy and full of longing and words you don’t dare voice because you’ve liked him for a long time too; you were just too afraid to admit it to yourself. but now he’s spilling his heart out and you’d rather walk barefoot through broken glass before you let him go on thinking for a second longer that his feelings aren’t reciprocated tenfold.
you step impossibly closer, your bodies pressed tight and heavy, the seam unbreakable. heeseung’s hands (both thank god) rest on your waist, holding you close. he bristles under your touch as you leave one hand on his shoulder and the other sneaks around to the nape of his neck, fingers curling into the fine, soft hair there. your nails scratch lightly against his scalp and his chest shudders against yours, some small, refined gasp of approval passing from his mouth to yours as he takes his turn to kiss the breath out of you.
it’s a tiny noise, barely noticeable, barely passing as a soft breathy moan. but you hear it and it’s embarrassingly enough to have your knees going a little weak. well, it’s not just that minuscule noise; it’s everything, it’s the way heeseung’s lips move against your own with an uncharacteristic amount of surety, the way his fingers have slipped under your shimmery black top (a “donation” from liv’s closet last homecoming), the way you can feel his body coming alive under your attention. if this is going where you think it’s going, the dreams you’ve been having about him at least once a week since you first met are about to come true.
heeseung is the first to break away again, but he looks less nervous than the first time. no, this time he looks flushed and tousled and so attractive it should be illegal. when he shifts his weight from his left to right foot, his body brushes against you and the heat of him is unmistakable. even if you couldn’t feel it, you can see the way his eyelids flutter and feel the way his chest shudders against yours. you can’t help yourself; you need him.
“come back to my dorm,” you whisper breathlessly, words manifesting physically in a cloud of fog. “please.”
the boy squeezes his eyes shut again, looks up towards the sky, draws that deep breath he’s so fond of right now. you almost back out, almost say it was a joke; he just confessed his feelings and you kissed twice, so maybe it’s all a little much for him. you really like him and you don’t want to scare him off; besides, what you’re feeling right now is nothing you can’t take care of on your own back in your dorm room. just as you’re about to tell him that he can say no, he’s seemingly talked himself up enough because he looks down at you, smiles, kisses you on his own accord, and then takes your hand.
“lead the way,” he says.
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you and heeseung stop at least five times on the way back to your dorm room to makeout, giggling into each other’s mouths as he presses you against a tree on the greens or as you pull him into the pools of darkness between streetlamps. every moment has him growing more confident, more certain that this isn’t just a hookup or a dream.
somewhere along the way, you text liv and tell her that you’re heading home because you’re not feeling well. it’s not farfetched, seeing as you’d broken away from her in the first place because you were feeling too hot. what happened between your departure and when the text is sent is entirely irrelevant right now. what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her and she’ll hear about it sooner rather than later anyways. 
it takes you maybe a full twenty minutes to reach your building, a feat considering how drunk you are and how obsessed you’ve been with heeseung for the last half hour. you fully expected it to take longer, but now, you stand under the golden glow of the entry to your dorm building, heeseung unlocking the door for you because you’re a little too gone right now and unwilling to take your hands off him,standing next to him, your arms hugging his free one while you lean your cheek against his shoulder. he fumbles with the key, muttering about how they should change to a keycard system instead, but he gets it eventually and you’re in.
after that, it’s practically a mad dash up to your dorm room on the third floor. your hand is twined tight around heeseung’s as you lead him up the stairs, too impatient to take the elevator right now. somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re glad that you took the time to clean your room today after class; heeseung will see a polished side of you, one that puts laundry away as soon as they’re out of the dryer, one that has glowing golden fairy lights above the window that gild your room in warmth, one that leaves books and binders stacked neatly in the shelf on your desk. not that he’ll be paying attention to any of it anyways, what with the way you can feel his cock pressing incessantly against you as you unlock your bedroom door, hot and straining.
agonizing seconds stretch into what feels like even more agonizing hours, but eventually, you get the door unlocked and guide him inside, stepping into the glow of your string lights that you’d left on before you left. you don’t even have to turn yourself around to look at him because he does it for you, turning you by your waist, pressing you fast against the back of the now-closed door.
his mouth is on yours in an instant, tongue swiping over your bottom lip, no doubt tasting the fruit punch yeonjun had added to tonight’s jungle juice recipe concoction. his hands are on your waist, curling hot into your skin, black mesh of your shirt scratching against you. it’s nice, how respectful he’s being right now, still ever the gentleman he’s been for the last month, but you don’t want nice and respectful right now. you’ve had literal dreams about this since you met him, driving your attraction to him higher with every one; you want mean and messy and rough, and that’s what you’ll get if it’s the last thing you do.
so in a bid to urge him towards where you’re really hoping this night goes, you grab at one of his wrists and drag his hand up to your chest, pressing his palm against your breast. you can feel his breath hitch against you and you smile into the kiss because how can he still be so shy when he’s kissed the breath out of you at least five times in the last forty-five minutes? either way, he gives a tentative squeeze and it feels mind blowingly good; you’ve never been one to really care much about attention focused on your tits, but heeseung makes it feel like maybe you should.
you get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, one of his hands kneading at your chest, the other slowly slipping under your top, rough fingertips drawing up and down the skin of your stomach, so far gone that you don’t notice the thigh he’s slotted between your legs until he grinds it up against you. it’s sudden and so well-earned, some much needed friction that you’ve been craving since that second kiss on the deck in lambda rho’s backyard. he does it a second time, the hard plane of his thigh coming up hard against your clit, and your knees buckle a little, dropping you further onto him. you moan sweetly into his mouth, tilting your head back against the door as the hand on your waist works your hips against him with a scary but uncharacteristic practiced certainty. he takes the absence of your mouth against his to trail kisses on your neck, his teeth dragging along the sensitive skin, nipping and leaving love bites in his wake.
a well aimed grind of your hips, guided singularly by the boy in front of you, has you falling forward against his chest, your forehead pressed into the junction between his shoulder and neck. you keen against him in frustration, the crest rising but not breaking, no matter how hard to try to get it to.
“seung,” you cry against his skin, fingers curling tight into his sweater. “need more please.”
you almost sob in relief when you feel him nod against your neck, more so when you notice his own hips are stuttering against your leg that is bracketed by his. it’s enough to make you moan, the idea of him needing it just as much as you that he’s trying to hold himself back from getting off on your thigh too.
pressing your palms flat against his chest, you guide heeseung backwards in the direction of your bed (which you’re very suddenly glad you haven’t lofted). when the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, he makes quick work of kicking his shoes off and then scrambling up so that his back rests against the wall. you follow suit, toeing off your party shoes and crawling onto his lap where he’s waiting patiently, his eyes wide and the browns of his eyes drowned out by his pupils. he’s breathing hard, chest heaving.
he looks up at you as you situate yourself, his hands coming to rest on your waist again. the expression on his face is nothing short of worshipful, like you’re a deity here to wrench your well-earned respect from his hands. and he is clearly ready to hand it over without a single fight. he guides you down onto him and you follow his hands willingly, your thighs straddling his and your clothed cunt just barely grazing against his hard-on until you settle down completely in his lap, not a centimeter of distance between you. the friction and pressure have both of you gasping wordlessly and heeseung tugs desperately at your hips. you fall into him, arms around his neck and pulling him to meet you halfway, lips locked once more. you give a tentative roll of your hips and heeseung moans into your mouth, just the reaction you were anticipating.
“fuck,” he moans the second time you do it. “you’re so good.”
you’re already hot, seared through to the bone, but you feel yourself go even warmer under heeseung’s praise. you’ve imagined this a million times over the last few weeks, but nothing could ever compare to the real thing. you kiss him harder, breathe him in deep to prove to yourself that this is real, that heeseung lee is under you right now, bucking his hips up into you and matching your movements, about to make you come just from a little bit of dry humping. it would be embarrassing if you weren’t both half-gone and ridiculously desperate.
you continue to rut against him, panting hot and heavy into his mouth as he swallows every single moan and whimper you let out just to return them tenfold, his hands working you over him with a rushed ease. every roll of your hips is met with his own presses upwards. he’s working you higher and higher with each move, closer to the precipice, and while you’ve never before thought you’d find yourself in a position like this, if heeseung makes you come without taking a single item of clothing off either of you, then so be it.
as if he’s read your thoughts, he presses you back and away from him. you open your eyes for the first time in minutes and take him in: messy hair, flushed cheeks, bruised lips. no wet dream could have ever prepared you for how beautiful he looks right now.
but no matter how pretty you think he is in this moment, the sudden absence of friction has you whining loudly, pitched high and tight. when you speak, your voice trembles out of frustration. “heeseung, why’d you stop?”
he sucks in a breath and moves to push at your shoulders some more. “don’t- fuck- don’t wanna come yet, not like this.”
if you weren’t already so fucked out, you would have giggled, but right now, you just feel exasperated. he’s right; you don’t want to come like this either, but you’d also come to terms with it because it would mean that you would at least be getting the release you’re so desperately craving. and that’s been ripped away from you, at least for the moment. but when he looks up at you again, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes still wide with need, you fold immediately.
“tell me what you want.” he’s practically begging you and it sends a thrill through you, liquid lightning straight to your heart. “please.”
and how can you deny him when he’s asked you so sweetly or when you’re just as needy as he is? at this point, whatever he’d offer, you would take gladly. he’s gazing at you now, waiting anxiously for an answer, not that you have a set one; you want him in any way he wants you, nothing else matters more than that. but you take in his swollen lips and lithe fingers and your mind is off to the races.
“i-” you start, but stumble over your words. you’d been incredibly forward when you’d kissed him first, but you’ve lost all of that fire now. you can’t bring yourself to ask for what you want, even though you’re certain he’d do anything you’d ask of him.
“c’mon,” he coaxes, fingers kneading into your shoulders to ground you. “whatever you want.”
the sound of his voice is earnest, nothing short of honest, and it makes you want to trust him more than anything. so you do. you draw in a steadying breath and curl your hands into his sweater as you work yourself up to it.
“will you-” another breath. “would you eat me ou-”
“yes,” he immediately answers. you don’t even get a chance to finish the question. “fuck. i thought you’d never ask.”
he moves his hands to cup your face and pulls you into him, kissing you sweetly, his nose bumping against yours. the minuscule break in sexual tension, while in most situations would be a mood killer, is nice because it just further cements that this isn’t some random one night stand; you want to see him every day for the rest of your life after this, if he’ll let you.
somewhere between the kiss and when he breaks away from you, he’s maneuvered you so that you’re laying back against your pillows. you’ve also managed to discard your shirt (thank god, the glitter and mesh combo was starting to irritate your skin something fierce) and he’s working to get your pants off, fingers fumbling with the button; it’s as frustrating as it is adorable and he swats your hands out of the way when you reach down to help him, deadset on doing it himself, which he does manage (eventually, after a few incredibly long moments). you help him shimmy down your jeans and panties by lifting your hips a little and then you are inarguably bare in front of him, a position you’d never imagined you would be in.
and maybe heeseung is a little wonderstruck too because for a few long seconds, he sits there and stares at you in all your naked glory (or nearly naked glory, seeing as you haven’t taken your bra off yet, but he doesn’t seem to mind). you’re starting to get a little bashful and have to nudge him with a bent knee to pull him out of his stupor. he’s impossibly red at the tips of his ears as he murmurs a sweet apology that comes accompanied by a “you’re just so pretty.”
before you can muster a reply, he’s situating himself between your legs, hands pressing softly against your inner thighs to draw them apart, set eyes on his real destination. you lift your head just a little bit, watching as his eyes widen as he takes all of you in, his breath hot against your folds. his fingers curl tight into the soft skin of your thighs and you whimper at the sting, equally painful as it is exhilarating. he makes an indistinguishable groan in the back of his throat before he’s completely devouring you.
plenty of your wet dreams about the boy between your legs right now have included this very scenario: his nose bumping carelessly against your clit, a suddenly confident tongue making a show of licking up all of your arousal, your thighs already trembling. but they never could have prepared you for the actual thing because he’s giving you what is quite possibly the best head you’ve ever had.
heeseung is eating you out like a man starved, it’s absolutely obscene. his tongue works you up fast, every little moan he lets out only contributing. somewhere in the midst, he says something that sounds like “you taste s’good,” but his words are drowned out by your own moans and the sound of his mouth working you over. every pass of his tongue over your folds is as close as you’ve ever gotten to heaven, but you’re lacking something to really shove you over that precipice; and now you know heeseung is so whipped he’ll do anything you ask him to.
“seung,” you gasp out breathlessly, untangling one hand from your comforter so you can wind your fingers into his hair. he looks up at you, doe eyes big and wide and glimmering with his eyebrows drawn together, a questioning look without pulling away to speak. you’re about to ask him when his nose bumps hard against your terribly sensitive clit and your word breaks off before the first syllable can even leave your lips. “fuck— seung, can you— can you add your fingers?”
you’re not quite used to asking for what you want, at least verbally; maybe it’s because any previous partners weren’t keen on getting you to verbalize, maybe it’s because they never particularly cared and just did what they thought was good. but heeseung is pliant and willing to please in any way he can, so you feel less embarrassed this time around because he’s made it entirely clear that your pleasure is his main priority.
he doesn’t nod, doesn’t say anything, just closes his eyes again and goes back to work. you almost think he either didn’t hear you or is straight up ignoring you before you feel it. he pulls his hand from your right thigh slowly, letting his fingertips drag lightly against your skin; the menace is teasing you, where did that come from? but you don’t even have much time to internally complain about him holding out on you because he’s suddenly slipping two fingers into you, long, deft limbs that expertly seek out that spot inside you. he presses against it once, twice, three times, each one drawing out a whine from you.
it’s just what you need, the extra friction pushing you up that incline, closer and closer to the dropoff. when your back arches off the bed and your thighs close around his head, boxing him in against your pussy, heeseung knows he’s got you right where you want to be and then he doesn’t let up. it’s an onslaught of pressure, four different points of sensation, and you’re on the verge of tears. he’s making a complete mess of you, utilizing all he can to get you over that edge. you’re whining his name like it’s the only word you know, “yes” and “fuck” and “oh my god” getting lost in your slurred speech; he’d be evil incarnate if he denied you what you’re so beautifully begging for.
he presses incessantly at that spongy place inside you, nose bumping against your little bundle of nerves, moans growing more frequent, all while his tongue tries to catch every single drop of arousal. and then there you go, ecstasy taking over like liquid heat in your veins. his name sounds like pure euphoria on your tongue, mixed with your moans and whines. he thinks he could come just from this alone, your cum in his mouth and your thighs pressed tight around him, but he holds off because there’s only one place he wants to leave his release (if you’ll let him, that is).
“shit.” 
you sound fucked out, completely gone and heeseung swears he’s never heard anything sexier. you tug at his hair a little bit, feeling completely overstimulated but still so good, a shock to your system as he pulls his fingers out of you and lets his tongue work over you just a little bit longer (to make sure you’re clean, he reasons to himself). 
eventually, he does pull away and you have to fight the urge to whine again. his eyes are unfocused and glossed over, his chin practically dripping in your arousal. hell, his tongue darts out to get the last little bit of your cum at the corner of his lips and you nearly orgasm all over again.
“was it good?” he asks softly and you barely hold yourself back from laughing. he just made you come harder than any previous partner ever has, given you the best head in the world, and he’s asking you if it was good? he’s insane for thinking it was anything short of perfect.
but you don’t say that. you reach for his sweater, fingers curling tight into the cotton and tugging him down towards you. he catches himself by his hands, his arms bracketing you easily, before he completely crashes into you. there’s a long moment where he just stares down at you, lovestruck and pretty, before he lowers himself to kiss you. you can taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, and you moan a little bit, feeling a little embarrassed, but one of his hands moves from its place on the mattress to cradle your cheek and that alone drives it away. 
one of your arms sneaks over his shoulder, your fingers tangling into the damp hair at the nape of his neck, while the other sneaks under his sweater, the shirt he wears underneath until the tips of your fingers brush the soft, pliant skin of his stomach. you can feel the gentle ridges of abs and a small piece of you shivers with giddiness. regardless, you enjoy a few seconds of running your fingers over his stomach before you push a little more incessantly at the offending pieces of material. he takes it for what it is: a plea to get rid of the clothes. after all, it’s not fair that you’re almost entirely undressed and he hasn’t taken a single article off.
you watch dazedly as heeseung sits back onto his heels, your eyes following his arms as he crosses them over himself, grasps at the hems, pulling them over his torso, his arms, his head before they land haphazardly on the floor next to your bed. every inch revealed to you makes your mouth water, his skin taut and soft and glowing in your fairy lights. you can’t help but remind yourself that dreams and an overactive imagination could never live up to the real thing because he’s very much the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.
you’re entirely prepared to continue your makeout session, but heeseung seems to have other ideas because once his tops are discarded, he begins making work of his jeans. you make a soft noise in the back of your throat when you realize what he’s doing and he looks up at you, fingers stilling at his belt, his eyes wide.
“is something wrong?”
he sounds so sincere, it kind of makes you want to cry. but you shake your head earnestly, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can look at him better. “no, no! everything is fine. i guess i just wasn’t expecting you to take your pants off so soon.”
he quirks an eyebrow at you and dons that pretty little smile of his, teasing but not really. “well, you’re almost completely undressed. figured it was only right that i do the same, y’know?”
and you laugh a little because it’s true and because he’s just so cute, he laughs too, soft and quiet. you generally think sleeping with someone is fun, but you’ve never had as much fun as you are right now. maybe it’s because it’s with heeseung and you like him so much already, so the playfulness comes easy; it doesn’t feel tense the way it has with others.
so you watch him handle his belt, the button on his jeans, the zipper. you watch, mouth watering once more, as he slips out of them, leaving his boxers, which have a dark wet patch on them. the sight alone would make you groan, but you can see the outline of his cock and you almost lose it completely. so you decide to resume the impatient act because you are still very much so; as cute as the playful routine is, you haven’t forgotten the exhilarating rush of trying to get to your dorm as fast as possible and the unpracticed fumbling that’s followed since then.
you reach for him and he doesn’t hesitate, letting you pull him on top of you by his shoulders, fitting your mouths together in a messy kiss, all teeth and tongues. your hands are in his hair again, his own slide underneath you to make work of your bra, unclasping it and then pulling the straps away from your shoulders, down your arms, making you let go of him for a quick few seconds so that he can pull it off completely and toss it god knows where in your room.
you’re distantly aware that you’re entirely bare to him now, but his mouth is working at your throat, dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin of your neck (he is strangely good at distracting you, you’re learning), so you don’t feel as shy as you did just a handful of minutes ago. either way, he’s sucking hickies into your shoulders, your collarbones, any skin that has a little bit of give to it that lets him leave love bites in his wake. so lost in the haze, you realize a little too late that he’s working his way towards your chest, but it doesn’t even matter, not when he has one hand kneading at one and his mouth at the other, tracing lines over your skin to quell the sting of each pinch, each little nip of teeth. your nipples pebble under his attention and while this never usually does much for you, you still find yourself getting antsy because it’s heeseung. everything he’s done for weeks has gotten you worked up, why would that stop now?
it doesn’t help that he’s grinding against you, his hips canting against your own for any semblance of friction. your arousal is no doubt contributing to the wet patch on his boxers and the idea of it almost has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. his cock feels hot and heavy against your folds, the head bumping against your clit, and all of it feels so delicious that you let out a crisp, high whine, twining your fingers into heeseung’s soft hair and tugging gently.
he pulls himself away from your chest and when you look at him, you almost moan. his lips are swollen, slick with spit, and his gaze has gone misty. he looks at you expectantly, blinking slow and lips pouted as he waits. you’re not even sure what you want from him right now, at least nothing specific because you want everything from him. you’re about to tell him to go back to doing what he was originally because it did feel good, but then he lands a particularly well-timed grind against you and you’re gasping.
“fuck,” you whimper, tossing your head back a little. your fingers tighten in his hair and from somewhere south of you, he laughs a little, light and easy and airy.
“that what you want from me?” he questions, pulling himself up over you, catching your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. in any other situation, it might come off as intimidating and teasing, but heeseung is all doe-eyed and halfway to heaven right now, so it comes off more desperate to please than anything. either way, you nod. “all you had to do was ask. you know that.”
you nod and pull him down to kiss you by the fingers you have twisted in his hair. he groans against you, moving his hand from your chin to your jaw, angling you just so. somewhere in the kiss, you murmur a soft, “seung, i want you,” and he groans a little, nodding against you. he pulls away and you chase after him, but he’s sitting up, moving lightning quick to get his boxers off, abandoned somewhere on the linoleum floor with everything else.
and then it hits you that you’re both completely bare. you lean back on your elbows, looking him over once more, though your focus lingers mostly on the skin newly revealed to you. his thighs are toned and sturdy, the skin plush, and while you’d love to stare at them a little bit more, your attention is quickly drawn to his dick. it’s big, the head an agitated red and leaking precum, and your mouth is watering at the thought of getting him in your position and giving him the best head of his life.
you actually start to move to do so, but heeseung anticipates it and moves quick, pressing you back into your mattress. his dark doe eyes are drowning in desire and you shudder under his gaze. he’s on you again instead, hips melded to yours in your nth kiss tonight. he’s got his weight rested on one elbow beside your head while his other arm is free to move around, his hand tracing from your shoulder, your chest, smoothing across your stomach. 
his fingers eventually land on your thigh, curling into the soft inner flesh, and he hikes it up around his waist before dropping his hand to his cock. his lips trail from your lips to your neck and shoulders, nipping at the skin as he jerks himself off. you toss your head back against your pillows, whimpering at every little graze of his teeth against your skin. 
but what’s really driving you crazy is the heat of him against you. the head of his cock bumps against your clit, this time with no fabric barrier separating them, and you’re not sure if heeseung is even meaning for the touch, but it has you feeling hot all over again, slick leaking out of you again. you’re getting impatient, heel pressing hard into his lower back and your fingernails biting into the flesh of his biceps.
“heeseung,” you whine out, canting your hips up against his; you hear him suck in a breath through clenched teeth, a hiss of air. “need you.”
he shivers against you, a teary whimper of “need you too” granted in return as he pulls his face from your neck so that he can watch you as he finally gets to what you’ve wanted since this whole thing started. on a short teasing streak, he taps the head of his cock against your clit and you whine, turning your head into your pillow and curling your fingers into his arms, which earns a laugh.
“stop playing,” you tell him, rolling your hips upwards and into him.
he hisses again and bites at his bottom lip, nodding. he slips from your clit to your entrance and even just the little shred of pressure you get has you wanting to moan out for him. but then he starts pressing in all the way, slipping into your cunt with ease and you are not prepared for just how full you feel. your back arches and he lets off a tempered moan, stifled through a lip bite. when he bottoms out, his hips flush with your own, you release a breath as you adjust to the size of him, which doesn’t take long.
“seung,” you drawl, grabbing his attention. “move please.”
and he does as you bid, pulling out before he thrusts back in. it takes a few moments for him to find a pace that works, but when he does, it’s perfect. his hips roll against yours delectably, the sounds of skin meeting skin and your shared moans filling the small dorm room. he’s shored up over you, one elbow pressed deep into the thin mattress holding him up, and when your eyes aren’t squeezed tight in ecstasy, you watch the way he bites his lip, furrows his eyebrows, shudders as you clench around him.
“god, you’re s’tight. feels so good,” he whimpers at one point, his head hanging over your own as he tries to keep a steady pace. his words are shattered, breaking off in the middle or slurred together, a verbal manifestation of how you physically feel.
one thrust hits that just right spot inside you and you can’t hold but moan loudly, back arching off the mattress and your head pressing into your pillows. heeseung inhales sharply above you as you clench tight around him and then, with you still keening, you feel him sit up, taking his warmth with him. his hands are on your hips seconds later and he’s angling you, doing everything in his power to replicate it again and again.
“fuck, i’ve wanted this for so long,” he says, one hand on your thigh and the other working deft fingers on your clit. he’s a quick learner it seems because all of it is coming together to whisk your orgasm closer, a wave of white heat washing over you. “saw you at my frat’s halloween party ‘nd thought you were so pretty. woulda come up t’you that night if i knew you felt this good.”
your breath hitches more than it has all night and you cant your hips upwards in an attempt to meet his thrusts. somewhere in the midst of your pleasure, you tell him you’re going to come and he nods fast, fingers going into overtime to get you there. that knot inside you winds up tight and then snaps like a rubber band stretched too thin, hot and fast. your pussy locks around his cock and then he’s there above you, bracing himself with his hand, to swallow the particularly sharp whine of his name you let out and any stray too-loud moans that might slip away and wake the neighbors (as if you haven’t already).
when your vision finally clears and your thighs stop trembling, his hips are still snapping into yours to seek his own release, pushing you into the territory of overstimulation, but any pain you have bleeds into pleasure until you can’t tell which is which; the only thoughts you can manage are that heeseung feels heavenly inside you that it’s almost blinding and you don’t know if you even really want him to stop. 
but his hips begin to stutter, his cock twitching against your fluttering walls, and you faintly register that he’s about to pull out of you. blindly, your hand searches for any part of him to pull him back over you, legs locking around his waist. he protests, some flurry of words about how he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable (not a single one intelligible), while you whine and pull him towards you by his shoulder.
“wanna feel you, seung,” you say, a limp arm winding around him and inching him closer until your noses are brushing and you can feel his breath fanning across you, still smelling faintly of his alcohol from earlier. “don’t worry about it, ‘kay? y’said you’d do anything, so please. i wanna feel you s’bad.”
that seems to be enough to egg him on because he nods and you catch him in a messy kiss before he groans against your lips as he finally comes. he lands a few more sharp thrusts that have you whining, fucking his cum into you, before he finally falls still. his breath is hot on your shoulder as he recovers.
usually, once you’re done, your select partner of the night pulls out, maybe cleans you up, and then leaves. it’s been a while since you’ve had someone who wants to stay (at least, you hope heeseung wants to stay) and you’re not quite sure where to go from here. there hadn’t really been much discussion about where your relationship was going to lead after this, even with all of the lingering glances on campus and your impromptu study sessions at the library, so you’re worrying a little about what comes after.
stuck in your own head, you don’t even notice that heeseung has pulled his head from your shoulder and is looking at you until his thumb works your bottom lip out from beneath your teeth and then wipes away some of the sweat at your hairline. the furrow of his eyebrows carve deep lines into the space between them as he studies you, looking like an angel with the way the fairy lights strung up above him give him a faint golden halo.
“what’re you thinking about?” he asks softly, brushing his fingers across your cheek. it’s a wholly different energy than just a few minutes ago, but the change isn’t unwelcome.
you shrug, blinking up at him and reaching to push some of his hair out of his eyes, the strands matted to his forehead with sweat. “just wondering what we do now, i guess.”
heeseung’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles a little, his shoulders shaking with a breathy little laugh. you almost punch at his shoulder for laughing at you when he cranes his head down to kiss you gently, the first that isn’t rushed in some way. he nudges your nose with his when he pulls back just a little bit.
“can we worry about all the big stuff later?” he questions; you feel the words as much as you hear them, his lips barely brushing your own as he says them. “for now, how about we clean up first and then… i’m hungry. are you?”
it’s your turn to laugh, but you nod. you’re still a little drunk, your however many cups of jungle juice compared to his measly one whiskey.
“so we clean up and then go get taco bell? it’s, like, the only fast food place still open at this hour.”
“you do know that the line is gonna be insane, right? like, half of campus goes there after getting drunk.”
heeseung lets another quiet laugh loose and sits up, pulling you up with him and then into his lap, his dick still snug inside you. the feel of it doesn’t wind you up again like you thought it might, but it’s a nice reminder that he’s here, that this all actually happened. he rests a hand on your thigh and lets his thumb trace lines into the skin there absently.
“then i guess we’ll have time to talk about what you wanna do now,” he says sincerely, the smile on his face soft.
you have so many words you want to say, a million sentences tornadoing in your head right now, all jumbled up and lacking any sense of coherency. so instead, you cup his cheeks in your hands and return the kiss from just a few moments ago. he meets you halfway, all soft and pliant and giving, everything you could have dreamed up.
“wanna shower?” you ask when you pull away, giggling when he chases after you for another kiss. “feel like it might be a little more effective than a rag.”
the boy raises an eyebrow and eyes you suspiciously. “you tryin’ to go for a round two? because that’s what it sounds like right now.”
you push at his shoulders and laugh when he catches your wrists in his hands, pulling you into a third kiss. “wasn’t my intention, but i won’t turn down the idea.”
“i’ll think about it,” he responds as he taps at your hips and lifts you off of him. his seed starts to leak out with his cock no longer there to hold it in and you feel incomplete without him, but when he stands and offers you a hand to help you out of bed, suddenly the feeling of emptiness isn’t as oppressive.
you teeter across your room, opening the wardrobe to pull out the two towels you have and your shower caddy. heeseung accepts the towel you extend to him graciously, wrapping it around his waist. when you’re done securing your own towel, he’s already waiting for you by the door, one hand on the knob and the other reaching out towards you once you get close enough to him. and then you’re two people walking down the hall hand in hand, wrapped in matching pink towels towards the unisex bathroom. it’s a little unconventional, maybe, but you don’t think you’d have it any other way.
liv probably would though, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. heeseung’s your little secret after all.
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© hoshologies 2023. do not translate, copy, or repost my work on any site.
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jupitercomet · 1 year
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The Trial Run: Chapter One
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summary - Bradley Bradshaw has one goal as he finishes his junior year of college - get Makayla Cunningham to be his girlfriend. Because Makayla Cunningham is exactly the kind of girl a guy like Bradley Bradshaw deserves. There's just one problem, Makayla is adamant that Bradley is a bad boyfriend. If he wants to win her over, Bradley has to prove he can keep a girlfriend of Makayla's choosing for the entire summer. It's just his luck that girl is his little sister's best friend.
warnings - college au, frat boy Bradley, language, underage drinking, allusions to sex, Bradley is 22 and reader is 19, I added outfit links but you can imagine whatever you’d like, no use of y/n, Bradley is 6'6" because I said so
this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact
word count - 4.4k
the trial run masterlist
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“Remind me again why I have to go to this?” Natasha eyes Giselle’s collection of waterproof mascaras wearily, her apprehension thinly disguised on her face.
Giselle sighs, setting down her mascara wand—Dior, you note—and locks eyes with Natasha through her vanity mirror. “It’s the sorority’s last party until finals. You’re going, Nat.”
You giggle when Natasha plops down on the bed next to you with a loud groan and prod her gently with your toe. “It’ll give you an excuse to wear that swimsuit you bought a few weeks ago,” you offer. “And maybe Mickey will be there.”
“As if he’d be caught dead at a Delta Nu party.”
“Reuben’s going, and Bob is too, I think. He’ll probably be there, Nat,” Giselle pipes up from her vanity stool, applying another layer of mascara. From behind her, you and Natasha lock eyes, a mischievous look mirrored in both of your expressions.
“Ooh, Reuben’s going, huh?” You roll forward on Giselle’s bed so that your face is just behind her shoulder. “Is that why we’re going? So you can suck face with Reuuubeen?” You sing out his name, dodging Giselle’s hand that tries to shove your head away as Natasha joins in your laughter.
“‘Suck face’? What are you? 12?” Giselle huffs, cheeks pinkening as you fall back on the mattress.
You let out an overdramatic, offended gasp. “That’s not nice! How would Reuben feel knowing you bully your friends?”
“Okay, that’s it,” Giselle puts down her makeup with a glare, but there’s a smile she can’t fight off her lips. She jumps on you suddenly, grabbing a decorative pillow as Natasha moves out of the way. Letting out a startled laugh, you try to wriggle out from under her when she hits you with the pillow. “How’s this for bullying?”
“Nat! Nat, help!” You laugh, flailing dramatically and knocking a few of Giselle’s Squishmallows off her bed.
Natasha shakes her head with a snort. Having moved away the moment Giselle pounced, she’s now watching the two of you from the hardwood floor. “I’m good.”
��Wow,” you gape at her, ignoring the plush hitting the side of your head as you lean up to look at her. “I see how it is. You guys hate me.”
Giselle scoffs with a laugh, stopping her pillow attack and getting off you. “And you have a victim complex.”
“I see someone’s paying attention in psych,” you quip, stretching out to pick up all the stuffed animals you knocked over. You pluck a piece of fuzz off of Mr. Pickles, a Build-A-Bear frog you’d gifted Giselle for her eighth birthday, brushing off his overalls before setting him down against her pillows.
You gnaw your lip in thought, keeping your eyes trained on Mr. Pickles, before you suck in a breath. “Will, um, will the Sigma Chi guys be there?”
“I think so,” Giselle’s back at her vanity, mouth dropped as she finishes applying the coat of mascara you interrupted. “Why?”
“No reason, just… just wanted to know. Since me and Bob are fifth wheeling.”
“If anything, Bob and Mickey are fifth wheeling. I’d ditch Mickey for you in a heartbeat.” Having moved back to sit next to you, Natasha shoves your shoulder with her own good-naturedly. 
Giselle, however, narrows her eyes slightly in faux suspicion, turning around on her vanity stool to look at you. “But what’s that gotta do with the Sigma Chi guys?”
It seems to register for Natasha too, who perks up beside you, and you grab Mr. Pickles to hide your fluster. It only spurs Giselle on though, as she narrows her eyes further. 
“No. Stop it,” you point at her warningly. “I do not have a crush. I was only asking because last time, you guys ditched me and I had to listen to Jake talk about NFTs for two hours.”
There’s a part of you that feels bad about lying to your best friend, but you soothe the guilt by insisting it was a half lie.
You know your friends didn’t purposefully mean to ditch you and, truly, you take no offense to it. They’re just getting caught up in their first college relationships, you can’t say you wouldn’t do the same. But it did mean that you occasionally found yourself alone at the frat and sorority parties Giselle could manage to drag you to.
For a while, you had Bob to keep you company. And usually, for the beginning of the night, he still does. You both catch up on classes and homework, swapping notes about professors—you’re thankful he’s also an English major because you’ve been able to register for a few classes together next year. But even he is enticed by the allure of sorority sisters so eventually you wave him off and find yourself sitting somewhat awkwardly in a corner until your friends are ready to go.
And it isn’t like you want to be the tag along—though Giselle and Natasha insist you aren’t. In the beginning, you and Bob had taken the hint of being the last two left single and went on a few dates. They were fun, and you liked hanging out with Bob, just the two of you, but it was clear to you both that you were just friends. You’re painfully and childishly in love with someone else and Bob figured that out on your very first date.
Giselle was slightly bummed that it didn’t work out between the two of you, but you assured her you were fine. Though you do get ditched occasionally, for the most part your group of friends all stick together. It’s rare that you honestly feel left out and if you do… There's always Jake and his NFTs.
Finally Giselle relents and you let out a silent breath of relief. “Well, good because, as someone who’s forced to know them, anyone associated with my brother is not worth your time.” Giselle gives her lashes one last check in the mirror before patting for you to sit down on her vanity stool. “Besides, in that suit I picked out for you? I won’t be the only one sucking face, babe.”
You wrinkle your nose. “I’m not sucking face with a stranger, Giselle, have some decorum.”
“But you could though. What about Landon? He’s pretty cute.” Giselle’s fingers glide over her mascara tubes. She had perfected a pool party makeup routine over the years and both you and Natasha indulge her by letting her help you get ready.
Again you wrinkle your nose, looking up as Giselle pumps the mascara a few times—ultimately deciding on a Pacifica one. “Bob had geography with him last semester and, apparently, he spews off some of the stupidest shit. I think I’ll pass.”
“Hmm—Blink—there’s Tanner?” Giselle holds the mascara wand to your eye. From behind you, you hear the door close as Natasha goes to change into her swimsuit. You snort when she shouts a “Good luck!” over her shoulder.
“Giselle,” you laugh, blinking again when she moves the wand to your other eye. “Please stop trying to set me up with every living, breathing man.”
“I’m not!” She protests, and you grab her hand to let her know you’re partially joking.
“I get you don’t want me to feel left out, but I promise I don’t.”
Giselle sighs, looking down guiltily until you nudge her leg with your own. “I just don’t want you to think that I’m going to ditch you now that everyone’s coming back to California with us for the summer.”
“Giselle, please, I’ve long since accepted that I’ve been replaced with Reuben—” You cut yourself off with a laugh when she whines your name.
“That’s not funny!”
Your eyes crinkle in a grin. “I’m kidding. We’re gonna have a perfect time this summer, and you’re gonna suck all the Reuben face you want, and I’m gonna be fine. Deal?” You stick your pinky out.
“Deal,” Giselle wraps her pinky around yours resolutely before picking up the Pacifica mascara again. “But I’m telling you, you’re gonna look so good tonight that even Sigma Chi won’t know what hit ‘em.”
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Bradley’s jaw ticks in annoyance when a downpour of water droplets land on his forearm and chest, the culprit being a freshman who reemerged from his cannonball with a loud holler. Bradley doesn’t understand why Delta Nu even invites freshmen, but then he recalls how they wait on the girls practically hand and foot. He scoffs. Freshman boys are so eager to please.
Still, they’re a nuisance, splashing him with water and encroaching on his time with Makayla. They’re just puppies when he thinks about it, tripping over themselves and practically drooling at the sight of any pretty, older girl in a bikini. Bradley knows he sure as hell wasn’t like that as a freshman. He didn’t need to be, not when he always had girls chasing after him.
Well, except one girl.
Makayla Cunningham had been unattainable to Bradley from the second he stepped foot into Sigma Chi. And the worst part is that she’s perfect for him. The president of Delta Nu, who comes from a wealthy, recognized family. Not once had she so much as looked at another member of Sigma Chi, hardly ever going on dates with college guys period, and, on top of all of that, she’s the hottest girl on campus. She’s successful, drop-dead gorgeous, and unattainable—it’s like the universe was handing Bradley the perfect girl. Except for the fact that she wants nothing to do with him.
Though he wants Makayla, Bradley certainly isn’t abstinent, and he’s built up a bit of a reputation. A reputation that Makayla isn’t fond of. He’s tried to convince her that she’s different, that she’s perfect for him unlike the other girls he’s slept with, but she refuses to hear it.
But, with his senior year on the horizon, Bradley is determined to have her hear it. He knows Makayla loves his attention, she wouldn’t play this game of cat and mouse if she didn’t, but even she has to admit that they’re running out of time.
It unfortunately seems Makayla’s chosen to play games tonight anyway, as she’s been entertaining freshman since Bradley got here, only shooting him sultry smirks when she can tell he’s losing interest. So now he’s sitting between Jake and Javy, getting splashed by freshman boys doing cannonballs and watching them flirt pathetically with his girl. Stupid fucking freshmen. Bradley can’t believe he’s going to have a whole flock of them staying at his house for the summer.
“I’ve had enough of this bullshit,” Bradley gets up with a growl, interrupting Javy who’s been recounting another party he went to the weekend before. He ignores the protests of his friends, making his way to the keg of beer set up in the backyard.
As if everyone can tell what kind of mood he’s in—or maybe it’s just because he’s Bradley Bradshaw—the crowds part and no one stops him for small talk. It only seems to sour his mood more though. If Makayla wants to spend her night with puny freshman Bradley’s not going to stop her, but he certainly isn’t going to sit there and watch her either. Instead, his night’s panning out the way it usually does and he’s going to wake up with a killer hangover and a random girl in his bed.
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of a couple of freshmen, Bradley.”
Bradley turns around from the keg with a flat expression. Makayla’s standing in front of him, flimsily hiding her smirk behind a red solo cup. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he rips his gaze away from her to look out at the party surrounding them. “‘M not jealous. Just thirsty.”
“Right,” Makayla teases. 
It’s quiet as Bradley takes a sip of his beer, the silence almost uncomfortable as he swallows.
“My answer’s still no, Bradley.”
He hums, his tone slightly bored when he responds. “And why’s that?”
“Because you’re not a boyfriend,” Makayla laughs. “Like, I’d hook up with you—”
“You know that’s not what I want,” Bradley cuts in.
“Well, I don’t want a boyfriend who’s gonna treat me like a hookup.”
Bradley’s jaw ticks again. “I’m not gonna treat you like a hookup.”
“Bradley, you’ve never had a girlfriend,” Makayla laughs incredulously. “You wouldn’t know how to treat me right.”
“You think that just because I don’t date means I don’t know how to treat a girl?” Bradley scoffs, taking another sip of his beer.
Makayla pauses for a moment, saying nothing for several seconds. Suddenly, she turns to him with a challenge in her voice. “Fine. You think you can be a good boyfriend? Prove it.”
“What?”
“Prove it,” Makayla sounds more resolute and, again, that smirk is on her face. “If you think you know how to treat me, prove it to me.”
“And how the fuck would I do that?” Bradley cinches his brows. 
Makayla looks around the party, her eyes mischievous as she turns back to Bradley with a sugar sweet smile. “If you can prove to me that you can keep a girlfriend the entire summer, I’ll go out with you. Think of it as a trial period.”
“You serious?” Bradley can’t help the smirk growing on his face. He hardly considers it a challenge, not when there’s a campus full of girls who do just about anything to be called his girlfriend. “I just gotta keep a girlfriend for a couple months?”
“Hold it, hotshot, I didn’t finish. I pick the girl,” Makayla grins when Bradley’s expression drops. Her eyes go back to trailing over the college students swimming and lounging in her backyard. “I know you, Bradley, and I know there’s plenty of girls that would let you treat them like shit and stay with you regardless. No, she needs to be someone desperate enough to get with you before summer, but not insecure enough to stick around.” Her eyes still suddenly, lighting up as they take in your figure smiling along with your friends but still clearly an odd one out.
Makayla smirks. “Her.”
Bradley squints at you, pursing his lips. You’re pretty at least, and there’s something about you that seems familiar even though he’s never seen you before. He watches as you speak animatedly to a girl whose back is facing him. You’re smiling brightly before you throw your head back with a laugh.
“Just the summer? And you’ll go out with me?” He checks.
“You last the summer,” Makayla nods, “and I’ll go out with you, Bradley. Deal?” She holds her hand out.
Bradley looks away from you, grabbing Makayla’s hand in his own. “Deal.”
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“Oh,” you giggle to Natasha, looking down at your empty cup. “I’m gonna get another drink.”
Despite your hesitance, you’re actually having a good time. The late spring air feels nice on your skin and the air has dropped a bit to make it the perfect temperature. Though you’ll never tell her, you think Giselle was right, you needed this party to remind you that summer was just around the corner.
You make your way around a group of sorority girls, smiling politely and nodding to the ones who recognize you. When Giselle first told you she was joining a sorority, you and Natasha hadn’t exactly been thrilled about the idea. You’ve come around to it more now—the girls aren’t nearly as mean as movies make them out to be, but you can’t lie that you’re still slightly scared of them.
Shaking off the thought to continue your quest for a drink, you pick up your pace to reach the cooler of beers and soda that’s been haphazardly set on the grassy lawn. You search through the cubes of ice, smiling delightedly when your hands find a Sprite. You grab a straw from the cup beside the cooler, opening your can and popping it in to take a much needed sip of your lemon lime soda.
Maybe there’s a part of you that’s a bit buzzed from the few sips of Mickey’s drink you tried earlier because, when you stand up from the cooler too quickly, you’re knocked completely off balance. You take a couple steps back to catch yourself—your feet trying to catch up with the rest of your body.
“Hey, now,” a low voice sends shivers down your spine, two large hands holding your hips in place and stilling your feet. Calloused skin seeps warmth around the ties of your bikini bottoms. “Careful, sunshine.”
You take a nervous sip of your drink as if that will delay the inevitable, turning around slowly as your teeth clench down and flatten your straw. The sight before you almost makes you trip again and—somehow worse—reminds you that hands are still holding you up by your hips. 
In front of you is a wet, shirtless Bradley Bradshaw, ball cap slung backwards on his head to hide the wet strands of curled caramel that are slicked against his scalp. Your eyes trail down to follow the beads of water rolling across the divots and dips of his abdomen, his relaxed muscles glistening in the setting sun. You can’t look away from the water droplets until they physically disappear, absorbing into the waistband of his swim shorts—which hang so low that his defined hips are completely on display, tan skin taut against his muscles and bones. You swallow thickly. 
When you manage to pull your gaze away, Bradley is smirking at you, fingers fiddling with the strings of your bikini, making it very apparent that he’d caught your borderline awe of his body.
“Um, nice, um, nice bathing suit,” you try to cover and, had it not been more embarrassing to have Bradley see you cringe at your own words, you would have.
Bradley lets out a light snort, shoulders jumping slightly with the air that leaves his nose. “You too.”
His hands are still on your hips, a position far too intimate considering it seems like he doesn’t even recognize you. Your heart sinks a bit at that. For a lot of her friends, growing up with Giselle Bradshaw meant inevitably having a crush on Bradley. You weren’t quite special in that regard, you’re just unlucky enough to have never grown out of it. Even almost a decade later, he still makes your cheeks hot and your knees jelly.
However, you’re still coherent enough to know that, if you let Bradley continue playing with your bikini bottoms, you’ll do something far more embarrassing than just ogle him. Subtly you take a step back, putting some much needed space in between the two of you. Part of you thinks you’re only imagining it, but Bradley almost seems disappointed that you did.
He recovers from it quickly though, taking his hat off to rake a hand through his hair before putting it back on. “Sorry.” You have to physically stop your eyebrows from raising. You don’t think you’ve ever heard Bradley apologize before. “Didn’t mean to almost knock you out.”
“No, it was— It was my fault. I should have watched where I was going...” you trail off quietly, keeping your eyes trained on your drink.
When you say nothing more, Bradley wets his lips. “You got a name, sunshine?”
“You—” That gets you to look at him and you hope you don’t come off as hurt as you feel. “You wanna know my name?”
You and Bradley had never been close, you know that and you never tried to pretend that you were. But you’ve been Giselle’s best friend since you were five years old. You spent more summers at her house than you did your own. You never expected Bradley to consider you friends, but you thought he would have at least recognized you.
You don’t know if you should be grateful that Bradley is oblivious to your inner monologue, but he is, a smirk growing on his face as he mistakes your dejectedness for humility. “That so hard to believe?”
You want to say yes. Yes, it is, given that you’ve known him for 14 years of your life. But before you can even begin to piece any words together, you hear a loud shout of your name. Giselle’s feet scamper across the concrete pool deck as she laughs out apologies to the people she’s weaving through to get to you. There’s a bright smile on her face—that quickly dissolves at the sight of her older brother.
“Is he bothering you?” Giselle glares at Bradley accusingly, but the elder Bradshaw doesn’t even seem to notice, his eyes tracing over you in genuine shock as your name falls from his lips in a soft mumble. You watch a flicker of recognition pass over his features.
“Shit.”
Taking a step closer to Giselle, you purse your lips as you realize what’s happened. Bradley’s embarrassed that he tried flirting with you now that he knows it’s you. You clear your throat softly. “Thanks for catching me, Bradley. It was, um, nice to see you again.”
With that you turn around, ignoring Giselle’s pestering questions as you let her lead you back to Natasha and the rest of your friends. Humiliation burns at your shoulders and neck and you’re far too modified to even attempt looking back at Bradley. You try to drown it all out with a long sip of your drink, letting Giselle distract you as you do your best to forget all about her older brother.
Behind you, Bradley watches the back of your white bathing suit for a moment, before he tips his head back and runs a hand over his face. Bradley groans. “I am so fucked.”
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“Sunshine!”
You almost think you're hallucinating when you see Bradley Bradshaw waiting outside the department building your class was in. But you know you’re hallucinating when it seems like he’s waiting for you. You go on as normal, not looking at him as you continue your usual route to the library. He’s certainly not talking to you and you’re not about to make a fool out of yourself for the second time. 
There’s a sound of footsteps, though there always is right after classes get let out, so you think nothing of it until there’s a blur of navy blue in your peripheral. You furrow your brows, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and the navy blue slows to a stop with you. Your head has to crane up to look at him and your eyes widen when it finally clicks in your brain that Bradley is standing in front of you in a tight fitting navy blue t-shirt.
“Bradley?”
He grins, running a hand through his hair. His biceps strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt. “Were you just planning on ignoring me?”
“I didn’t—” You open and close your mouth a couple times, having to take a step closer to Bradley when someone tries to pass you both on the sidewalk. “Is Giselle okay?”
“What?” Now it’s Bradley’s turn to look almost as confused as you.
You genuinely don’t think this could get anymore embarrassing and you look down so you don’t get flustered by Bradley’s honey brown eyes—because that’s the last thing you need right now. “Sorry, I just assumed… that’s why you’d be talking to me.”
Bradley almost seems to wince at that, but you’re sure you’re imagining it. Really you just want to get out of here and you’re trying to come up with a feasible excuse when Bradley looks somewhere over your head. You’re about to say something when his hands are suddenly on your hips and he’s yanking you into him with a force that has you tripping. You let out a yelp as you collide with his chest, your hands pressing against the firm muscles of his chest.
The answer to this sudden movement comes in the form of a group of three girls walking right where you had been moments ago. Bradley looks down at you, the corner of his lip lifting in a lopsided smile. “Sorry.” There he was apologizing again. “I got a thing for almost tripping you, huh?” He lifts one of his hands to scratch the back of his neck after a moment when you don’t respond. “So, where you headed?”
“The, um, the library.”
“Me too,” Bradley lights up slightly.
You have to physically close your mouth before you blurt out your surprise at that statement. Because Bradley doesn’t study. Most of the time Bradley doesn’t even go to his classes, Giselle is always complaining about how he just shows up for the exams and somehow always passes.
“Okay…” you trail off. You really don’t want to go to the library with him. Not when you’re still close enough to him that his cologne is dizzying and one of his hands is still on your hip and he’s looking at you with those big, brown eyes—
Yeah, you have to go.
“Oh,” you pretend to wince. “I left something I need in my dorm. I should probably go back to get it.”
Bradley deflates slightly, looking at you with an unreadable expression. He wets his lips. “Before you go, can I ask you something?”
Your grip tightens on your backpack straps and you can only manage a small nod.
“Will you go on a date with me?” 
You blink. And then again. And again. “What?”
“C’mon, sunshine,” Bradley smiles like he hasn’t just destroyed all that you believe to be true about the world in three seconds. “I’ll take you to mini golf, we'll get some food after.”
“Mini golf?”
Bradley’s smile falters. “Or— Or something else, I guess. What do you want to do?”
“No, I mean—” You try to build up some courage from the fact that Bradley appears to be losing some of his. “You want to go on a date with me?”
“That so hard to believe?” Bradley repeats his words from the weekend and, again, you find yourself wanting to tell him that yes, it is.
Your entire life, Bradley has never once paid you any attention and now he’s suddenly flirting with you at pool parties and asking you on dates. Maybe Giselle really was right about that bikini.
“Okay,” you say finally.
Bradley pauses. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod, letting out a breath to steady yourself. “I’ll go on a date with you, Bradley.”
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daisynik7 · 1 year
Text
Rush
Chapter 3: After Party
Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader
Rating: Explicit
cw: underaged drinking, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, blowjob, daddy kink, cum eating, corruption kink
Summary: Alpha Tau and Sigma Nu Kappa volunteer together at the Trost District Food Bank. After the event, the brothers invite the sisters back to Mike’s house for a kickback, where you revisit a familiar room.
Notes: Chapter title inspired by “After Party” by Don Toliver
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Rush Series Masterlist
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A week after the first exchange of the semester, Alpha Tau hosts a volunteer event at the charity of their choice: the Trost District Food Bank. That Saturday morning, the sisters of Sigma Nu Kappa meet them at the front of their fraternity house, waiting for the charter bus to arrive. 
Eren has tried all week not to think about what happened the night of the exchange. It was all just a casual hookup. Nothing major, no big deal. He even told her it would be a one-time kind of thing. He isn’t trying to get tied down by one girl, especially not one in Sigma Nu Kappa.
He won’t admit it out loud, but he cares to some degree about his reputation. Why would he hook up with a Sigma Nu Kappa when he could get an Eta Iota girl? Or a Delta Mu? They are the hottest girls on campus. Perfect for him to play around with and live out his frat boy dream.  
He has caught himself a few times this week, jerking off in the shower, thinking about the way his fingers slid in and out of her pussy. The way she sucked him in and clenched around him, so tight and wet. How she fucked herself onto his fingers without him even telling her to. How she took his whole cock into her mouth, swallowing his load without complaint. For an innocent virgin, she sure acted like a freak. And that intrigues him. But he’s sure he’ll find another girl in the other sororities that is as eager and willing to indulge in his depraved fantasies. 
No one else knows about what they did that night. Mikasa didn’t even bother searching for him or her roommate after getting caught up in a riveting game of beer pong against Hange. It seems like they both had a mutual understanding to keep their little rendezvous a secret. 
Still, it’s in his mind to try and avoid her at today’s event. Just to save themselves from any awkwardness. Knowing how embarrassed she got over a simple Truth or Dare game, he assumes she’ll be extra fragile if she were to see him today. 
Eren hangs out in the back of the crowd, next to Jean and Marco. Armin stands next to Erwin in the front, volunteering to help organize everyone into groups. Subconsciously, he gets on his tip toes to look at the SNK sisters, huddling together in their matching sorority letters. He spots her, standing beside Mikasa, arms linked together like two best friends. He wonders if she told Mikasa what happened between them, how his best friend would react knowing he’s corrupted her precious little roommate. 
Remembering not to think about her, he shakes away his current thoughts and tries to engage in conversation with Jean and Marco to distract himself. They all start loading into the bus, sisters first. He’s the last passenger and takes the open seat at the very front, next to Hange, unfortunately. 
It’s a 20-minute ride to the food bank, which feels like an hour to Eren as he desperately tries to avoid Hange’s invasive questions. “What’s your blood type?” “What’s your workout regimen?” “Have you ever broken any bones?”
When they’re finally there, they all exit the bus and gather in a warehouse, surrounded by pallets full of canned goods and prepackaged foods. The food bank coordinators greet them and explain their tasks for the day. When they’re done, Erwin and Armin go around, assigning each person to a group. 
“Eren, you’ll be in the corner over there, where Reiner is,” Armin informs him. 
He goes towards Reiner, who is already joined by Mike and eventually Erwin. They wait as the sisters of Sigma Nu Kappa get themselves organized. A few minutes later, three sisters walk towards them. Eren immediately recognizes Annie and Petra. When they get closer, he sees who their third member is.
It’s her. Mikasa’s roommate. The virgin. 
Fuck.
~~~
You decide not to tell Mikasa about your little sex-capade with her childhood best friend. Not because you think she would react in some type of way, but because you feel embarrassed for even having that experience to begin with. 
The whole week, you try your best not to think about Eren. You succeed at this, for the most part. His harsh words and blank expression are always at the forefront of your mind. But the memory of him fucking you with his fingers and calling you a good girl sneaks its way in and makes your pussy throb. Makes you want him, despite his asshole behavior.
Naturally, you feel nervous to see him at this volunteer event. No matter how much you remind yourself that Eren Jaeger is a dick, you still don’t trust yourself enough to keep your cool around him. At least you’ll be able to avoid him today. It’s just a volunteering event, there’s no way you’ll need mingle with him.
That’s what you think. Until you’re assigned to the same group.
You, Annie, and Petra are directed by Hange to join a group at one corner of the warehouse, sorting through some of the canned goods. As you make your way over, you see Eren, man bun and all, wearing the same type of joggers he wore a week ago. The same ones you shoved down his legs to suck his thick cock. 
Pull it together, you think to yourself. He probably hasn’t thought about you since. He probably doesn’t even remember your name. 
You hide behind your sisters, wanting to avoid seeing him as much as possible. Petra is her bubbly self as usual, introducing herself to a tall, blond brother who you didn’t see at last week’s party. His name is Reiner, and he wears a bored expression on his face the whole time as Petra talks animatedly to him. 
When mingling time is done, you stick close to Annie, who has since apologized to you for what she did at the Truth or Dare game. There are three different pallets, each one holding a huge box filled with canned goods. Your task is to go through each one, check the expiration dates, and separate the vegetables from the fruits. After a few minutes of sorting through cans, chatting casually with Annie, Petra comes over to your side. “You two should mingle with the Alpha Tau brothers,” she suggests.
“How can we ‘mingle’ when we’re too busy sorting through these cans,” Annie says, sarcastically.
“Well, you two are chatting away with each other just fine, I expect you to do the same with the Alpha Tau brothers! That’s the whole point of this collab!”
With a roll of her eyes, Annie relents. “Fine. Who do you want me to talk to?”
“Well, that Reiner guys seems –”
“Not him. Anyone else, besides him.”
That’s right; you remember Annie mentioning her dislike for Reiner a few weeks ago.
“Then go talk to Mike. He’s nice.”
Annie takes her time walking to another box, leaving you with Petra. She looks at you with a kind smile. “So, think you can take two guys at once?”
“Huh?” 
“Oops, didn’t mean to make that sound so dirty, ha ha! I mean, I’m going to have two of the brothers help you on this side. Eren and Reiner.” Before you can protest, Petra waves over in the distance, calling for them. You pretend to focus on two different cans of corn as they approach her.
“Okay, Eren and Reiner. This is my sorority sister.” Petra introduces you, then she skips away to join Erwin at his box. “Have fun, you three!”
You drop the cans to look at them. They both have blank expressions on their face. Eren crosses his arms over his chest, gaze on the ground. Holding your hand out to the blond, you greet, “Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, sure,” he responds, giving you a half-assed handshake. 
“Nice to see you again, Eren.” 
He turns his head to you and nods. “Yeah, sure.”
Great. There’s two of them. 
You scoot to one side of the box, trying your best focus on the task. Eren and Reiner stand beside each other, the blond closer to you, as they start sorting through the cans. It’s silent at first, until Reiner starts talking to his brother. You eavesdrop on their conversation.
“There’s another Eta Iota party tonight. Hopefully you can make it this time.”
“Yeah, I should be able to,” Eren replies.
“Dude, those chicks are wild. Hooked up with two girls last week. You’re fresh meat, so they’ll fucking love you.”
It takes all your willpower not to roll your eyes at what this creep is saying. 
“Erwin is so fucking lame. He told me and Bertolt off for not attending the exchange last week. Fucking prick. Why should I attend a party with absolutely zero girls I’d like to fuck in there?”
Either he’s totally forgotten you exist, or he really doesn’t give a shit. Either way, you keep to yourself, wishing you had brought your headphones to drown out the bullshit. From the corner of your eye, you see Eren glance at you as his brother continues to berate your sorority. “The most boring, ugliest chicks on campus, and we’re the sad fuckers paired with them. What a fucking joke.”
“Reiner,” Eren starts, but before he can get a word in, you snap.
“Well, fuck you too, Reiner. I hope for your own sake, and for the sake of those poor girls that had to fuck you last week, you at least have a big cock to compensate for your shitty personality.”
He turns to you with a cocky smirk. “Maybe I do have a big cock. Bet you’d like to see it.”
“Only if I need to induce vomiting,” you retort. 
“You wouldn’t even know what to do with it anyways. Everyone knows SNK girls are all prudes. Right, Eren?” 
He focuses on the food in the box. Without looking up, he mutters, “Yeah.” 
You should have expected this from him based on what he said to you last week. But you still can’t help yourself from feeling disappointed in his response. At least this will make it easier to forget about him and move on. 
Unsure how to react, you turn your attention back to the canned goods, hoping you can block out Reiner and Eren for the next hour. You’re tempted to ask Petra to switch to a different group, but you don’t want to give Reiner the satisfaction of thinking he got under your skin, which he did. So, you just sort through the vegetables and fruits in silence.
A couple of minutes pass, then you hear Reiner say, “I gotta take a shit. I’ll be back.” He leaves toward the bathroom, leaving you and Eren alone. 
~~~
When Reiner is out of earshot, Eren clears his throat. “Hey. Are you okay?”
She sorts through the cans, pretending not to hear him. Eren moves a little closer and repeats, “Are you okay?”
Without looking up, she responds, “Yeah, sure.”
He maintains his neutral expression, but inside, he can’t help but chuckle at her repeating the same “cool guy” response he gave to her earlier. He finds it amusing.  
“Sorry about Reiner. He’s a dick.”
She scoffs but doesn’t say anything else. Taking the hint, he decides to stop talking about his big bro and ask, “So, how have you been?”
“Do you really care?” 
He’s surprised by the venom in her voice. “Hey, I’m just trying to keep things cordial between us. Keep the peace,” he offers.
Finally, she looks up at him and says, “Well, I can’t just stand back and listen to some asshole talk shit about people I care about.”
“Yeah, I get it. I’m the same way.”
They stare at each other for a couple seconds, not speaking. Studying one another. Eren wishes he was a mind reader so he can tell what she’s thinking.
He makes small talk, asking her about her major and her hometown. He finds out she’s from Krolva District and majors in bioengineering. He reveals that he’s from Shinganshina and is doing philosophy. 
“What do you want to do with your philosophy major?” she asks.
“I’m trying to get into law school, actually. I want to be a lawyer.” 
“Oh nice. I can see you doing that.”
He smirks. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I can totally see you using some Jedi mind tricks to manipulate someone into doing something, like confessing.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“I guess it depends. You can use it to get whatever you want from people.”
For some reason, at those words, his mind goes back to last week.
Let me make you feel good.
Fuck yourself on my fingers. Just like that.
Suddenly, he blurts out, “Last week was fun, by the way.” Shit. He wasn’t planning to mention it, but he does. He rubs the back of his neck, a bit flustered by his admission.
She breaks eye contact and looks down at the ground. “Yeah, it was.”
Maybe we can do it again, he’s tempted to say. There he goes again, thinking with his dick and not his brain. He can’t help it. His mind is filled with the memory of her on top of him, a moaning mess, rubbing herself against his hand. His fingers covered in her shiny cum, so tantalizing he almost stuck it in his mouth to taste. 
Why is his mind so occupied by this girl? He barely knows her. She’s not even his type. What about her is pulling him in? And how can he stop it?
With perfect timing, Reiner returns, taking the same spot in between them. “Damn, we’ve still got a whole hour left of this shit,” he grunts.
Eren glances over and sees her focus back on the canned goods. He wonders if she’s thinking about him the same way he’s thinking about her. Probably not. Even he can admit that he acted like a dick after their encounter. 
As Reiner babbles on about stupid shit, Eren tries to avoid looking at her for the remainder of the time. Tonight, he’ll find a hot Eta Iota girl to fuck and forget about her. That’s what he needs to do to move on from the girl that has taken over his thoughts the past week. Simple and easy as that.
When the event is done, everyone gets into the bus to head back to campus. When it pulls into the front of the fraternity house, Levi stands up to speak.
“Alpha Tau brothers and Sigma Nu Kappa sisters. Thank for a successful volunteer event at the Trost District Food Bank. The coordinators are very pleased with our work and extend their gratitude. Also, Mike has another announcement he’d like to make. 
Mike gets up and announces, “I’d like to invite you all over to my place again for a little kickback tonight. BYOB. I’ll order some pizzas and we can just chill.”
Mostly everyone is excited for that news, except Reiner and Bertolt, who maintain their stoic expressions. Eren tries to match their energy, knowing he’s going to be out partying with them tonight. 
When they all exit the bus, Eren catches up with Mikasa and Armin, who he’s barely spoken to all day. 
“Eren! How did it go with your group?” Armin asks. 
“It was alright, I guess.”
Mikasa sighs. “I wish I was in either of your groups. I was stuck with Jean, and he kept trying to flirt with me.” 
Armin laughs. “That’s Jean for you. Anyways, will you be going to Mike’s tonight, Mikasa?”
“Probably. We’ll ask Petra to buy some alcohol for us so we can bring something. You guys are gonna be there, right?”
“Yeah, of course!” Armin exclaims. 
Eren doesn’t say anything until they both look at him, waiting for an answer. 
“What?” he asks, playing dumb.
“You’re going to be at Mike’s tonight, right Eren?”
Nope, not this time. Armin and Mikasa will not guilt him again. “I’m going to an Eta Iota party with Reiner.”
“Eta Iota?!”
“Reiner?!”
“Look, I just want to check it out, okay? It’s not a big deal,” he explains. 
His two friends stare at him for a few seconds. Mikasa’s eyebrows are furrowed, and a prominent frown is apparent on her face. Armin looks nervous and concerned. 
Eren shrugs. “Seriously, it’s one party. I just want to meet some of the other people.” 
After they exchange a few more concerned looks at each other, Armin relents. “Okay. Well, have fun.”
Mikasa remains silent and looks down at the ground. 
It’s not like he needs the permission of his friends to do what he wants. But he’d rather be honest with them instead of sneaking around and lying about it. Soon enough, they’ll figure out that nothing will stop him from getting what he wants. And tonight, no one will stop him from going to this party.
“Hey, Mikasa. Ready for lunch?” Mikasa’s roommate walks towards them with a smile. Eren notices how she avoids his gaze. 
“Yeah, I’m starving. Armin, want to come with us? We’re just going to the dining hall.”
“Sure.”
Eren, a little peeved, jokes, “Thanks for the invite.”
With narrowed eyes, Mikasa responds, “I thought you would be getting lunch with your big bro, Reiner.” 
“It doesn’t suit you to be childish, Mikasa,” he responds. 
“Whatever. Have fun at your Eta Iota party, I guess.”
“Maybe I’ll come by before to pre-game. We can hang out for a bit.” He looks at Mikasa’s roommate when he says this, trying to gauge her reaction. She just gazes down at the ground, avoiding eye contact. 
Mikasa links arms with her and states, “Fine. We’re going to lunch now.” They start walking away towards the dining hall. 
Before following the girls, Armin sticks around to warn, “Be careful, Eren. With Reiner.” His tone is serious.
“You worry too much. He’s my big bro. He’s cool.”
“I know you think that. But Annie has told me some stuff about him. You’re not like him, Eren. You shouldn’t try to be like him.”
“I don’t know what I’m like yet, Armin. That’s what I’m trying to figure it out. And you and Mikasa need to let me find that out on my own.” Why is everyone on his case? Why can’t they just let him be?
With one more concerned look, Armin waves goodbye and catches up with the girls, leaving Eren alone in front of the frat house.
~~~
After lunch, you and Mikasa head back to your dorm room to study and relax. Mike’s party isn’t till later in the night, so you take a much needed nap while Mikasa heads to the gym to work out. 
You take a shower and get ready, opting to wear more comfortable clothes since it’s supposed to be a more low-key party compared to last week’s exchange. As you sit at the edge of your bed, waiting for Mikasa to change into her stylish athletic wear, she brings up Eren.
“I think Reiner is a bad influence on Eren.”
Mikasa hasn’t brought him up all week. The last she spoke of him was after the exchange, when the two of you were situated in your beds, recounting the night. She teased you for thinking he was the hottest guy in the room. She even apologized on his behalf for refusing to kiss you during the game, still completely unaware of what he did to you right after. So, the sudden mention of his name startles you.
You didn’t tell her what happened earlier today at the volunteer event. How Reiner said awful things about the sorority, how Eren blindly agreed with his big brother. It doesn’t seem important enough to report to her or to anyone else. A small part of you also doesn’t want to rat out Eren for his behavior. But it seems it’s already obvious to his closest friends.
Feigning ignorance, you ask, “What do you mean?”
“Annie said Reiner is a typical frat boy. I’m nervous that Eren is going to try to be like that.”
Mikasa also doesn’t know what Eren told you, only minutes after meeting you for the first time:
Guys join frats to party and fuck, and that’s what I intend to do.
She continues. “I know Eren isn’t like that. But today, he told me and Armin he’s going to an Eta Iota party with Reiner, and I just can’t help but worry.”
“What are you worried about?” 
“That he’s going to make some bad decisions tonight, under the guidance of his big brother.” 
What can you even say to Mikasa right now? Do you agree with her, knowing fully well that Eren is on a mission to be the biggest fuck boy on campus? It’s only going to make her worry more. Trying to calm her nerves, you reassure her. “You know Eren better than anyone. If you say he isn’t like that, then I’m sure you’re right. Besides, he’s a big boy. He can make his own decisions. It’s not your responsibility to look after him.”
Before she can respond, you add, “You’ve got to live your life too. You can’t spend every waking moment worrying about your friend.”
She frowns, still anxious but contemplating your advice. Eventually, she agrees, “Yeah, you’re right.” It’s unconvincing, but it seems enough to appease her for the time being. 
Once you’re both ready, the two of you walk to the Sigma Nu Kappa house to meet the rest of your pledge class and Petra, who has kindly offered to provide the alcohol tonight for the underaged sisters. You all walk together to Mike’s off-campus house, carrying White Claws inconspicuously in tote bags. 
When Petra knocks on the door, you’re all greeted happily by Mike, who ushers you in. “Welcome, ladies. Pizzas already here, so help yourselves.”
Most of the senior sisters are already here, including Hange and Nanabe. There are several Alpha Tau brothers in attendance, like Erwin and Levi, who currently stand in the kitchen conversing with each other. All the new brothers are in attendance, except for Eren. They are gathered on the couch, playing Mario Kart on the big screen. Overall, it’s less crowded than the exchange last week, but still lively. 
You grab a box of pizza to bring to the couch and crack open a White Claw, watching Jean, Connie, Armin, and Marco race each other. Mikasa and Sasha sit beside you, grabbing a piece of pizza and sipping on their own hard seltzer. When one of the races is finished, Jean reaches over to grab a slice and say, “So, I heard Jaeger is going to an Eta Iota party tonight.”
“Who told you?” Mikasa questions.
“Armin mentioned it when I asked if he’s coming.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Jealous? I’d much rather be here with you.” He directs his smile at Mikasa, who blushes. You try to hide a grin behind your White Claw. 
Sasha adds, “Annie’s roommate is in Eta Iota. Hitch Dreyse.”
“Is she hot?” Connie asks, joining in their conversation.
“Yeah, she’s cute. She was in my group during recruitment. Want me to introduce you to her?” 
As Sasha slides next to Connie on the other side of the couch to inspect Hitch’s Instagram page, Armin takes the now empty spot next to you. “Hey Mikasa, have you heard anything from Eren? He did say he might come here to pre-game.”
In a quiet voice, Mikasa responds, “I haven’t heard anything.”
“Maybe I should text him. See where he is right now.”
In a more assertive voice, Mikasa says, “Armin, stop. We can’t keep worrying about Eren. Just…let him be.”
A few seconds pass before Armin sighs and agrees. “Yeah. Okay.”
Sensing the need to change the mood, you pat both of their hands and exclaim, “You know what will get your minds off Eren? A drinking game! Let’s go!”
You pull on their hands until they reluctantly get up, following you into the living room. A group of people, mostly the seniors, sit on the ground surrounding a ring of playing cards face down with a large beer mug in the middle.
“My little babies!” Hange exclaims. “We’re about to start King’s Cup! Come join us!”
After a brief explanation of the rules, the game starts. The oldest in the circle is elected to go first. Erwin draws a card and reveals a four of hearts. “Alright, ladies. Drink.”
“Wait, why? What does a four mean again?”
“C’mon, Erwin. You have to say it properly. Four is for whores. All you ladies drink.”
Erwin furrows his thick eyebrows. “I’m not going to say that about these lovely women.”
“It’s just for the game, idiot. Everyone knows we don’t mean it,” Levi clarifies, as he goes next. “Ahhh, a six. Drink up, dicks.” 
Copious amounts of alcohol are consumed as more cards are drawn. Mikasa pulls out an ace, meaning everyone must drink until she stops. She ends up chugging her newly opened White Claw, making everyone else finish whatever alcohol they had in hand. Armin draws an eight, prompting him to choose you as his “mate”; you have to drink every time he does. Hange has to “bust a jive” when she reveals a five, to which she performs a sad attempt at twerking, resulting in Levi throwing a few ones at her from his pockets. When Mike draws another eight a few turns later, he strategically chooses Armin as his buddy, a naughty expression on his face. Feeling a little tipsy already, you groan, “So now every time Mike drinks, I also have to drink? What the fuck!” 
Throughout the next hour, more asses are shaken, four different rounds of Never Have I Ever is played, three people pour a large amount of their liquor into the beer mug after drawing a king. And unfortunately for you, the chain of drinking buddies expands to Erwin and Levi, so whenever either of them drink, you have to as well. 
A very drunk Armin pulls the last king from the cards. His name is chanted as he guzzles down the nasty looking beer mug like a champ, ending the game. Everyone gets up to disperse, either to get more alcohol in the kitchen or to walk off the drunkenness. As they pass, the Alpha Tau brothers pat Armin’s back as he gives them a goofy grin, eyes glazed over with intoxication. 
On your way towards the kitchen, Mike walks besides you, giving you a playful nudge. “You were a trooper, having to deal with all your drinking mates.”
You poke your finger at his chest. “You’re the one who started it! I blame you for this.” 
He smirks as he brushes a few hairs away from your forehead. “Don’t worry. You’re still cute when you’re drunk.”
Is he hitting on you? A senior? The Mike Zacharias? 
For some reason, you think about Eren. What’s he doing right now? He’s probably flirting with some Eta Iota girl, maybe even fucking her at this very moment. Doing exactly what he wants to do. What’s stopping you from doing the same? Why can’t you flirt a little with someone else? It’s not like you and Eren are dating. You’re not even friends. Barely even acquaintances. 
Why can’t you shake this lingering feeling of guilt?
You give Mike a polite smile and mutter a shy, “Thank you.” 
“Do you have a boyfriend, princess?”
Your heart skips a beat when he calls you that. It’s sweet hearing him use a pet name like this. But something possesses you in this moment to lie. Not because you want to reject his advances. The reason has to do with Eren.
Eren, with his lazy man bun and bad boy attitude. Eren, who acts likes he doesn’t give a shit to impress his big brother Reiner. Eren, whose fingers have christened your body, making you feel pleasure you’ve never felt before in your life. Making you crave more of his touch. Making you wonder what other obscene things he can do to your virginal body.
There’s a twisted part of you that wants him to be the first to defile you. To ruin you.
So, you lie. “Yeah. I do,” you tell Mike.
He reacts kindly, putting his hands up in surrender with a grin. “Got it. I’m sorry.”
“I’m flattered. Really. You’re sweet.”
He keeps smiling at you when he says, “He’s a lucky guy. I hope he tells you how beautiful you are every day. I know I would.” He heads into the other room, leaving you alone in your thoughts.
God. It’s almost physically painful to watch him walk away. What the hell are you doing? Here’s this guy, older, mature, sweet, and you turn him away? Because of someone who doesn’t even try to pretend to give a shit about you. He’s already told you it was a one-time thing. You’re not interesting enough for him. Why are you still holding out hope? Where’s your self-respect?
Again, there’s that twisted part of your brain that makes excuses for him. Today at the volunteer event, when it was just the two of you, he made it a point to mention, Last week was fun, by the way. Why would he bring it up if it didn’t mean something? 
You make your way to Mikasa, who leans on the counter in the kitchen chatting with Levi. Drunk and dizzy, you rest your head on her shoulder, face hot and breathing shallow. 
“Is she okay?” You hear Levi ask her. 
“She’s drunk. Here, drink some water,” she tells you, shoving a cup to your lips. You tip it into your mouth sloppily, dribbling on yourself.
“She should rest in the guest room upstairs,” Levi advises. 
Taking his recommendation, Mikasa leads you upstairs into the bathroom to do your business and splash cold water onto your face. The two of you walk past Mike’s room and slip into the one you hid in last week. You flop onto the bed, still dizzy and antsy as she forces you to hydrate more.
She brushes a few hairs away to feel your face. “Geez, your cheeks are burning up. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, think I just need to take a quick nap.”
“You sure you’ll be okay in here? We’ll just be watching a movie a downstairs.”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you assure her. “Just come get me when you’re ready to leave.”
“Okay. Call me if you need anything. And finish the rest of that water.” 
She gives you a small smile before closing the door behind her, leaving you in the dark. Moonlight shines dimly through the window. The bed feels cool against your burning skin. You sit up to drink more water, trying your best to sober up. You can already feel the effects of the alcohol wearing off as you continue to hydrate. Resting your head on the pillow, you close your eyes for a several minutes, using the distant sound of the party below as white noise. You can’t sleep, but the least you could do is try to rest. 
After a while, you open your eyes again, suddenly aware of your current location. Being in this room makes you think about Eren. You can’t help it. This is where you had your first kiss. Your first sexual experience. You feel a sensation growing between your legs as you remember the dirty details of last week. His fingers disappearing in you, this thumb caressing your clit tenderly, his cock sliding in and out of your wet mouth, his cum shooting into the back of your throat. 
Fuck. It’s too much. Too good. You reach down, fingers past the hem of your leggings and into your panties, where you feel yourself already wet from your arousal. With your middle finger, you gather up your slick and rub small circles around your clit. You let the pleasure build up before you start moaning louder, tapping away at your swelling bud. With your free hand, you slide your leggings and panties past your ass, leaving your pussy bare as you keep touching yourself.
You don’t think about getting caught in the act until you hear the bedroom door shut and a familiar silhouette walking towards you. 
~~~
Eren arrives at the Eta Iota party already tipsy. Him, Reiner, and Bertolt pre-gamed in the Alpha Tau house before arriving to the off-campus party. When Reiner knocks on the door, a girl named Sandra greets them. “Hey Reiner, glad you could make it.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it. I brought my little bro, Eren.” 
“I should introduce him to Hitch. She’ll be excited to meet him.”
She leads them through the packed house. There are men from other fraternities gathered there, mingling with the other Eta Iota sisters. Eren doesn’t recognize anybody, making him feel out of place. They get a few curt looks from strangers as they pass by.
He’s surprised and confused to finally see a familiar face in the kitchen. Annie stands against the countertop next to girl with a light brown bob, both sipping on jungle juice. When Annie sees Eren, her eyes narrow. “What are you doing here, Jaeger?”
“I could ask you the same thing, Annie.”
“My roommate Hitch here forced me to go to this party, so I had no choice. I’m a bit disappointed to see you here with them.” She glares at Reiner and Bertolt, who are socializing with some men from another fraternity. 
Eren shrugs. “They invited me, so I didn’t really have a choice either.”
Hitch introduces herself, then says, “I heard Alpha Tau is partnered with Sigma Nu Kappa this semester. How’s that going?”
Another shrug. “It’s alright, I guess.”
“I know most of the new girls in there. We all went through recruitment together. I almost joined SNK because of how much I got along with them.”
“But you didn’t.”
Embarrassed, she looks down at her side. “No, I didn’t.”
Annie continues to study Eren carefully. “Why does it seem like you have something against Sigma Nu Kappa? Are you letting that idiot convince you that we’re not cool enough?”
“I don’t let other people influence how I think or feel,” Eren states. He clenches his fist, feeling agitated that she would even suggest something like that.
“So, what is it then?”
“Maybe I just want to meet some new people. Explore my options.”
She laughs sarcastically. “You sound like a typical fuck boy.”
Having enough of whatever this is, Eren pours liquor into a cup and hangs out on the couch. He scans the room, observing the girls of Eta Iota. He doesn’t particularly feel drawn to any of them. And no one really approaches him all night, except for a few guys who try to start conversation. He’s been told that he comes off a little intense, maybe even intimidating. But he didn’t expect to be ignored by the Eta Iotas. That’s not what was promised to him by Reiner. 
By midnight, he decides to leave. Reiner and Bertolt have been busy all night, playing beer pong and flirting with girls that don’t want anything to do with him. He doesn’t bother letting them know he’s heading out; they won’t care. 
As he makes his way back on campus, he checks his phone. No texts from either Armin or Mikasa. It’s out of character for his friends. It must have finally gotten through to them to not bother him anymore. Still, he doesn’t mind hanging out, especially after a disappointing night. 
He turns around and starts walking towards Mike’s house, where he knows they’ll be. When he knocks on the door, Connie answers, eyes bloodshot with a lazy smile plastered across his face. “Fucking finally.” He looks over his shoulder to yell out, “Eren’s here y’all!”
Stepping foot into the house, Eren sees a crowd of Alpha Tau brothers and SNK sisters gathered around the couch and floor, watching a movie. The lights are dimmed, pizza boxes stacked on one of the tables, and everyone has a drink in hand.
“Eren! You’re here!” Armin exclaims, currently cushioned between Jean and Mikasa on the couch.
“Look who decided to join us,” Mikasa remarks, with a slight smile. 
“How was the Eta Iota party?” Jean asks.
Eren shrugs and answers, “It was okay.”
Levi yells out, “Jaeger, pull up a chair. We’re watching Twilight. Every time someone does something cringey, we drink.”
“Which is apparently every two minutes,” Petra adds. 
“Yeah, sure. Let me use the bathroom first.”
Mikasa asks, “Since you’ll be up there, can you check on my roommate? She’s just upstairs in the spare bedroom, taking a nap.”
His ears perk up at this. So that’s where she is. 
He agrees and walks upstairs, heading to the bathroom first. After he washes his hands, he studies his reflection in the mirror for a good minute, fixing any loose strands from his bun and swiping away any stray baby hairs from his forehead. Satisfied with his appearance, he steps quietly across the hall and presses his ear up to the guest bedroom door, listening for any sign that she’s still sleeping. There’s soft moaning coming from the other side of the door. It’s her moaning; there’s no mistaking it. He turns the handle slowly and creaks the door open just enough to peek inside. 
Through the darkness, he sees her figure on the bed, on her back with thighs spread wide, bucking her hips against her fingers.
He doesn’t think. His body just moves. He enters the room and shuts the door behind him, sauntering towards her like a predator stalking its prey. When she finally notices him, he expects her to jump and retract her hand from her arousal, but she doesn’t. Instead, she stares at him, eyes locked on his as she continues to caress her clit. 
“Eren.”
The way she moans out his name drives him crazy. He stands at the end of the bed, watching her, feeling incredibly aroused. Her pants aren’t even pulled all the way down. As if she couldn’t waste a second to start touching herself.
He strips her leggings and panties off her body then kneels on the bed, right in front of the show she’s putting on for him. In a low voice, he demands, “Show me how you fuck yourself.”
Obeying, she slips her middle finger inside her slit, pussy squelching with each thrust. With her wet finger, she starts massaging her clit. Filthy moans pour out of her lips as she continues to pleasure herself in front of him. 
“Fuck,” he breathes out, palming his erection through his pants. He watches as her finger glistens with her own slick. Unable to deny it any longer, he grabs at her wrist and sticks it into his mouth, swirling his tongue over every inch skin. Finally tasting the alluring nectar that’s been on his mind all week. He savors how luscious it feels on his tongue. It’s immaculate. Chaste. Only for him.
Is it the alcohol? He didn’t even drink that much. He’s pretty much sober now. But he feels absolutely feral, giving in to every wicked desire he has in his fucked-up head. The one thing he wants more than anything is to dive in and devour her. To drink her up until this unbelievable thirst is quenched. He wants it. He needs it.
Positioning his face between her thighs, he teases her with the tip of his tongue. She jolts at the sensation, crying out, “Fuck!”
Smirking at her reaction, he leans in closer and coos, “Can I eat this pretty pussy out? It looks so fucking scrumptious. It’s making my mouth water.”
“Fuck, Eren. You’re so fucking nasty,” she whines.
“Yeah, I am. And so are you.” He rubs his middle finger up and down her folds, pressing against her clit each time he reaches it. “Finger fucking yourself like that in front of me. Shoving your cum coated fingers down my throat. Fucking nasty slut.” 
She squirms above him, his face dangerously close to her arousal, spraying his saliva over her pussy with every filthy word he spits out to her. “You act all innocent and shy, but when you’re with me, you’re just a dirty, little slut, huh? Tell me you want my tongue on you. I need to hear you say it.” 
“Fuck, Eren. Put your tongue on me. Eat me out.”
“That’s a good fucking girl,” he growls. He latches his lips around her clit and starts rubbing his tongue on it, side to side. Her little bud sticks out perfectly for him, puffy and swollen from stimulation as he gobbles her up. He slips his middle and index fingers into her slick entrance and fucks her, relishing the lewd sounds that she makes. She’s just as tight as she was a week ago. Still a pristine virgin for him. His cock twitches thinking about how he’ll ruin her. Not tonight. But soon.
He goes completely wild, slobbering all over her, making the nastiest noises. Her moans become whimpers as she loses herself in the intense pleasure. He reaches his free hand down to his stiff cock but uses all his strength to stop himself. If he jerks off right now, he knows he’ll come. He’s so fucking turned on from eating her out, he almost feels like he can come untouched.
He goes at it for several more minutes, not stopping even when her orgasm is palpable on his glistening fingers. He slides them out to slurp the cum flowing out of her. “Look at this. All for me,” he hums, alternating between licking her slit and sucking her clit with his wet lips. 
“Fuck, Eren. Feels so fucking good,” she moans, overstimulated and spent from her climax.  
“You’re such a good girl, just taking it like this. Coming all over my fucking mouth,” he praises.
“Fuck, daddy.”
Daddy. His fucking weakness. 
He runs his tongue over her folds one last time before he releases her, getting off the bed to quickly slide out of his pants and underwear. His hard cock springs up against his abdomen as he stands, waiting. 
“Come here. Let daddy fuck that filthy mouth of yours.” 
She gets down on her knees in front of him, spreading her legs apart on the floor. She opens up wide, so fucking eager to receive his big cock. He guides it slowly past her lips and down her mouth until it hits the back of her throat, causing her to gag. He chuckles and he pulls back a bit. “Too big for you, huh? Don’t worry, we’ll practice. You’ll be able to take it without gagging soon enough.” 
Mouth too full of his dick, she just nods obediently as he starts thrusting into her. He has both hands on the sides of her head, gently bobbing it onto his dick. Her hand reaches down between her legs, rubbing her clit as he fucks her. 
“Fuck. You like getting used like this, don’t you?” he spits out.
She responds with another nod as she starts fingering herself again, still taking his cock like a good girl. Eren’s never been so turned on. He can’t think of anything more pornographic than the sight in front of him.
“Daddy’s ready to come,” he says, pulling her off.
Wiping the drool from her chin, she pleads, “Come in my mouth, daddy. Fill me up.” She sticks her tongue out for him, staring up at him with a fucked-out look on her face.
“Fuck,” he moans as he slaps the tip of his cock onto her tongue, a bead of precum sticking to her bottom lip, creating a salacious string between the space. It’s obscene. The way she kneels in front of him, thighs spread wide on the floor as she rubs her clit. Her tongue on full display, ready to receive his load. 
Any efforts to try to forget and move on from her are washed away. He’ll never forget this. He doesn’t want to forget.
His stomach clenches as he comes for her, shooting his seed all over her tongue. He strokes himself until nothing else comes out, knees giving in slightly from his intense orgasm. 
He hears her swallow before she lays back down on the bed, probably just as drained as he is. 
Ignoring the temptation to cuddle up next to her, he puts his pants back on, remembering that his friends are waiting for him downstairs. They’re probably already wondering why he hasn’t come back yet.
She doesn’t say anything as she gets comfortable on the pillows, a blissful smile on her face. Before he makes his exit, he leans in close to her, brushing a few strands of hair away from her forehead. She opens her eyes to look at him.
“Next time we see each other, I’m going to fuck you. Gonna turn my sweet, little virgin into a slut.” He presses his lips against her ear and whispers, “You’ll be the nastiest slut on campus after I’m through with you.”
With a sloppy kiss, Eren gets up and leaves the room with a satisfied smirk on his face.
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wanderinginksplot · 9 months
Text
Refuge Chapter Five
Continued slowburn Delta Squad x fem!reader fic
You deliberate the choices the Jedi Council gave you... with a little help from Delta Squad
Word Count: 4,000 words.
Warnings: Homesickness and brotherly bickering.
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We have a fancy new fic image! Mostly because there are so few high-quality Delta Squad gifs. (Due to the original game's quality, NOT gif-makers, who are all incredible!) Enjoy!
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Deliberation
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The Jedi Temple was amazing.
No one had told you whether you were allowed to wander the halls and explore the rooms, but - given that you had first been discovered by the Jedi while you did exactly that in the GAR’s hangar - the fact that they hadn’t explicitly said not to was more telling. At least, that was what you told yourself as you wandered around the Temple.
The space was expansive, and you found yourself wondering how it all managed to fit into crowded Coruscant, but that mystery was solved when you heard someone make a comment in passing about how the Temple extended slightly into the second level. That had sent you down a different path while you learned about the way Coruscant was set up. The Jedi in charge of the Temple’s archives - Master Jocasta Nu - had been thrilled with your quest for information, and had shown you how to retrieve the necessary files to read on one of the archive’s datapads.
That had been how you spent much of your first full day on Coruscant, but you had been learning the layout of the Temple the remainder of the time and all of your second day. You had been warned by several occupants that the labyrinthine Temple could be confusing and to be sure to ask someone if you became confused. Whether they were just looking for a way to keep an eye on you or a building simply wasn’t challenging after finding your way through dense forests most of your life, you didn’t find it as confusing as they had implied.
You had already known a few places, of course. The Jedi Council chamber was at the top of the temple, positioned so the Council could see out and across the surrounding city. You avoided that area, but made your way to the cafeteria at meal times. You knew about the clothing supply and the sewing room already and didn’t feel the need to spend more time there. Even ignoring the sections you were familiar with, the Temple had so much else to see.
You explored instruction rooms and training areas, spaces that seemed to help prepare for lightsaber use and ones that were meant to simulate battlefields. There were some rooms that were perfectly empty and ready for anything at all. The Temple held more gardens than you were truly capable of understanding, each one reflecting a different climate and the plants that would grow well there. There were kitchens and kennels, rooms filled with music and areas set aside to memorialize those who had come before. 
You rushed through some areas, like the mock strategy centers and battleships, trying not to look like someone gathering information for the Separatists. Despite their warm welcome, you were sure some Jedi would be suspicious of you, and you couldn’t blame them.
And then there were places where you spent a little more time. A large creche filled with younglings kept you occupied for a while, playing with and helping care for the occupants and generally assisting the Jedi there. You found a huge space that seemed to be a farm filled with teenage Jedi and, by exploring it, you learned about the agricorps and what happened to the young Jedi who weren’t chosen to be someone’s padawan. 
There was also a large garage-like space you wandered into that was filled with pieces of droids. Diagrams on the walls showed the best ways to dismantle different droids, and a few of every kind seemed set up for practice. Those droids were well-loved, a few even bearing paint and - on one B-1 - a nametag. Its name appeared to be Clank.
Not all of the rooms were for everyone, though. You had steered clear of a few areas meant for different species. There had been signs for underwater meditation rooms and a passing Jedi had welcomed you inside, but the idea of being around a large amount of water made you uncomfortable. You hadn’t even attempted to go inside the rooms that offered varying changes to the level of oxygen. Master Plo Koon had nodded as he slipped inside, presumably preparing to remove his oxygen-filtering mask for a short amount of time.
On that note, even for a Jedi Temple, you found a truly mind-boggling number of meditation rooms. In addition to the underwater meditation chamber, there were ones specializing in warmth, coolness, silence, noise, floating, and other criteria that made no sense to you.
Eventually, you ended up in a room that was doing its best to simulate a mountainous climate. There were trees everywhere. You half-expected them to feel false, especially when you sat under one, but it seemed real enough. You settled against the trunk and listened to the sound of a nearby stream. If the room was an illusion, it was a good one. When you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine that the birdsong was familiar and that you were home on Voubos, enjoying a late afternoon walk before you needed to return home.
Your eyes stayed closed and your breathing fell into a steady rhythm. In your mind, the landscape changed from the inside of an expansive room to the forests of Voubos. You had wandered out for a little exploring, maybe foraging for part of the lunch that you had sat down to eat. When you opened your eyes, you would be there. It was only a short walk back to your home with its familiar gardens and cheerful yellow door. Maybe you would read a book before you sorted out dinner. Or maybe you would do some knitting. Your mind felt tired, and the familiar motions of yarn and needles would soothe you.
You had told Barriss that you didn’t meditate and that was still true, but if meditation was anything similar to the half-trance you put yourself into, maybe it held some merit. The back of your mind stayed firmly in place, cognizant of your real surroundings and situation, but part of you was transported to Voubos, pretending the Separatist invasion had never happened. It was relaxing and your whirring mind felt like it could relax for the first time in far too long.
Eventually, though, someone entered the room and you opened your eyes. The young Jedi walking through the door looked politely curious rather than suspicious of you, but you still decided that it would be best if you left.
As you moved down to the main floors of the Temple, you heard an odd conversation ahead. You were almost tempted to call it an argument, but neither side sounded combative. Instead, the calm voice of a Jedi could be heard countering someone else who seemed to be extremely business-like.
The not-quite-confrontation wasn’t in your direct path and it certainly wasn’t any of your business. You weren’t a Jedi and couldn’t help the situation in any meaningful way. That being said, you were a naturally curious person and you had nothing else to occupy your time in the Temple. 
Especially since, in the haze of your almost-meditation, you had come to terms with the idea that your exploration was really a way to avoid pondering the opportunities you had been offered. 
You changed directions to walk toward the discussion. Surely it wouldn’t hurt anything if you walked through the area and tried to find out what was happening. In fact, your gossip-loving Voubosian roots demanded it. 
With that decision made, you ducked slightly through a side hallway to catch a glimpse of the conversation. It was indeed a Jedi - not one of the Jedi on the Council, but one you had seen around the Temple. And she was speaking with-
“...Fixer?” you asked incredulously.
You had never seen any of the troopers caught off-guard, but Fixer turned to look at you so quickly that you were worried for his neck.
“What are you doing here?” you continued when he didn’t immediately say anything. The Jedi just watched silently.
“Trying to find you,” Fixer grumbled. “We were worried when we didn’t hear from you.”
“How would I contact you? I don’t have a comlink or your frequency.”
“Good point,” Fixer conceded reluctantly. “Come on, we need to go find the others.”
“But the-” As you spoke, you turned to look at the Jedi, ready to offer an explanation for Fixer’s presence in the Temple. However, she was gone, having tactfully faded away into another part of the Temple.
“Let’s go,” Fixer repeated, already walking away. He raised his wrist to his mouth. “Found her.”
“Rendezvous at Room 27-A,” his comlink crackled.
“You said the others are here?” you asked, walking faster in an attempt to keep up with Fixer. “Why?”
“Did you miss the part when I said we were worried about you?” Fixer said sharply. “We all decided to search the Temple. It’s faster when we split up. Especially since we had no way to contact you and no way of knowing which room was yours.”
That made sense and you followed Fixer’s broad shoulders the rest of the way in silence. 
Room 27-A was on the main floor of the Temple, but set away from the entrance. It was one of the unoccupied rooms, seemingly set aside for meetings or maybe impromptu meditation sessions. By the time you and Fixer stepped inside, the rest of Delta Squad was already waiting for you. 
“Finally!” Scorch said, grinning at you. “Didja miss us?”
“You look like you’re doing well,” Boss observed, ignoring Scorch entirely.
“Thought you might have died,” Sev added.
You smiled at the group, surprised at how pleased you were to see these commandos. “Thank you guys for coming here! Fixer said you were worried about me. Is everything okay?"
"You tell us," Boss said steadily, cutting through the disgruntled noises Sev and Scorch made toward their brother. "The Jedi made you an interesting offer. What do you think you'll decide?"
You let out a sigh. "I've been asking myself that for two days and I don't have an answer."
"Is there even a debate?" Sev demanded, voice harsh with derision. 
"Uh…" you wavered, unsure whether that lack of debate was supposed to prove that the clear choice was going with them or staying with the Jedi. Delta Squad had been welcoming, but they were also insistent that you should stay away from any action.
Fixer rolled his eyes. "Leave her alone, Oh-Seven. She's just trying to think over all of her options before she makes a choice."
"Of course you would think that's a good idea," Scorch snipped sarcastically. "You'd triple-check your decision to take a piss if you had the chance."
Fixer gave a glare so burning that you, an innocent bystander, cringed from the heat. Thankfully, Boss interrupted before anyone could continue the argument.
"Men," he said, tone stern and commanding. "This conversation ends now."
Fixer closed his mouth and gave a tight nod. Sev nodded as well, the muscles in his jaw dancing. Scorch shook his head and complained, "You never let us have any fun, Boss."
Boss, ignoring the men entirely, focused on you. "Whatever decision you make, it'll impact your life. One way or the other, it has to be your choice, not anyone else's."
You tipped your head at him, willing to obey his order. You couldn't claim to know exactly how Boss had gotten his name, but that commanding presence had to have been part of it.
“Now,” Boss continued, “you wanna show us around this place?”
You gladly led Delta Squad around the Temple for a while until Scorch had dropped several obvious hints about being hungry, then you brought them to the cafeteria where Barriss had taken you on that first day.
“Did any of the Jedi say anything about why they offered to let you work with us?” Fixer asked. Boss sent him a dirty look but didn’t berate him for asking. Scorch and Sev watched with anticipation.
“I asked, actually,” you admitted. “They sensed a bond between us. Nothing permanent or serious, but they know that we’re friends. Friendly, I mean. Well-”
“Don’t go being all flowery on our account,” Scorch told you, pressing a hand to his chest like he had been deeply wounded by your self-correction. “Of course we’re friends. We’re not in the business of rescuing people we hate.”
“Except all the times we’re ordered to,” Sev added.
“And you weren’t ordered to rescue me?” you checked.
“No, but don’t let that go to your head,” Scorch warned, wiggling his fork at you.
You hesitated, unsure of how to take that, but Scorch laughed uproariously at his own statement and you couldn’t help but smile at him.
“Did the jetiise say why they offered to train you?” Boss asked, seeming willing to discuss your situation now that Fixer had brought it up. 
You lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “They didn’t say much more than they said in the Council meeting. I’ve been through a trauma and they think I’ll need some training on controlling my Force connection so I don’t lash out in an unexpected way. And they’ll train me to work on stealth missions even if I don’t choose to be attached to your squad. Apparently, being able to sneak by most people is one of my natural Force abilities, so it wouldn’t take much training to learn that.”
“And then you would be a Jedi?” Fixer asked, frowning slightly.
“No, not at all,” you denied instantly with a chuckle. “I’m much too old for the right training. I’ll never be an actual Jedi. They would just teach me the basics of control and how to use my abilities to help me survive - whether that’s in a battle zone or in normal life - then I’ll be done. They said they would help place me somewhere I could help the Jedi Order if I want, or I can set out as a civilian. Or I can do something here that doesn’t require being a Jedi. An assistant in the kitchens or the archives, maybe.”
“And none of that stands out to you?” The oddly intense question came from Sev, who eyed you with something close to understanding.
“No, not really,” you admitted. “Let me ask you all a question, though: what do you think about the Jedi offering a civilian a place on your team? As far as I know, that isn’t typical and they didn’t consult you.”
One of the things that the Separatist propaganda had emphasized was that the Republic’s army was made up of clones. They had planted people on Voubos to speak about meeting clones and talk about how chilling it was to see the same face and mannerisms repeated so many times. That had been contradicted the first time you met Delta Squad. Yes, they looked similar, but they all acted so incredibly different that you couldn’t help but think of them as being individuals.
The look they shared at your question didn’t run counter to that observation. Instead, it just reminded you that these men had been working, training, and living together since birth. It looked more similar to a behavior you would expect to see from a group of close siblings than anything that smacked of them being clones.
It was only because you were watching so closely that you saw Scorch put on a carefree attitude. “Always nice to have someone to show off for.”
There was more he wasn’t saying, your gut told you that much, but you didn’t feel confident enough to call him on the lie. Instead, you just turned your attention to the others at the table.
“You’ve shown that you’re willing to help people,” Fixer said, a slight frown growing on his face. “Not sure how well that would translate to the battlefield, though.”
“If any civvie could keep up with us, it’s her,” Sev argued. You were so startled by the unexpected support that you didn’t even argue with the fact that he was speaking about you rather than directly to you.
“I’m more worried about how things would work,” Boss said, his gaze heavy on you. It was hard to meet those eyes, but you managed. “You’ve shown that you don’t follow orders well. If you came along as a civvie expert or some kind of Jedi apprentice, you’re still not a general. I’m in charge of this squad, and I would need to know that you can be trusted to do as you’re told.”
The urge to immediately defend yourself was strong, but you fought it back. Boss deserved more than a rote assurance. All of them did.
“I would like to tell you that I would follow orders without question or hesitation, but I won’t lie to you,” you started, keenly aware of the way they all exchanged another glance. “I’m not used to obeying anyone but myself. What I can tell you is that I’ll do my best to learn how. If there’s anything I can do to help you complete your missions, I’ll do it.”
The silence was thick and heavy, eventually broken by Fixer. “What could you do, though? You’re good with stealth, but you have no combat training, no weapons training. All due respect, but you would be a liability.”
“Maybe I would,” you admitted readily. “But I know how to move through an area quickly and silently. I know how to blend in and gather information. I know how to find trustworthy people. Those skills have to be helpful in some way, right?”
“Maybe,” Boss agreed slowly. “But if they’re not?”
“Then I’ll tell the Jedi I just want to stay here,” you offered. “If you don’t want me to come along, I won’t. Simple as that.”
“Why would you do that?” Scorch asked, leaning forward with an uncharacteristically intense expression on his handsome face. “Why would you leave an important decision about your future to four commandos you barely know?”
“You saved my life,” you told them with a shrug. “Seems like you should get some say in what I do with it. I owe you.” 
“That makes no sense,” Sev argued. “You saved us first, gave us a place to stay. We’re square.”
“Huh, true.” You pretended to think about that for a moment, fighting back a grin as you shrugged. “Kark off, then.”
The group fell deathly silent, watching you with various levels of shock and dismay until a sharp laugh from Sev broke the crackling atmosphere. Scorch fell into laughter a moment later, Fixer grinned, and even Boss cracked a smile. You laughed along with them, much harder than the joke itself had merited, but the release of tension was a relief for everyone.
“I still think you need to make your own choices about your future,” Boss said eventually when things had settled down once more. “I don’t want any of us trying to influence you one way or another… but, if it were up to me, I’d be willing to have you onboard.” 
Your eyebrows shot upward, your jaw wanting to drop with surprise, but Boss held up a hand. “It would be on a trial basis only. I need to make sure you know: one disobeyed order - a single one - and I’ll have you back here learning how to meditate with younglings before you can say, ‘sorry, Boss’.”
“Yes, sir,” you agreed with a salute.
Boss watched you with a frown. “We’d have to teach you how to do a proper salute, too.”
“Dibs,” Sev and Scorch claimed at the exact time. 
“She hasn’t made a decision yet,” Fixer reminded them.
“And we’ll leave her to it,” Boss said sharply. “Are we finished here, men?”
“Yeah, but I think she should show us her room,” Scorch tossed out. “You know, in case we can’t reach her for another two days.”
“Not a bad idea,” Boss agreed, glancing at you. “We’ll walk you back to your room and then we’ll let you make up your mind on your own.”
The last few words were pointedly directed at the rest of Delta Squad, but you felt their weight connecting with your chest like they had been stones tossed your way. Boss had been right earlier. Whatever you decided, you would have to live with it. Either you stayed here to learn from the Jedi and took a position helping them out, leaving Delta Squad to fend for themselves in the field, or you went along with them. There was a very high likelihood you would die on a mission, especially since you were admittedly a liability unless you learned several important skills very quickly. 
You stood up from the table a little too quickly, but no one commented on it. Instead, they asked questions about the Temple the entire way to your quarters, discussing each of your answers in-depth. It was a good excuse to keep your speech to a minimum, though you did your best to pay attention to their amusing comments.
In the end, Delta Squad left you alone at the door of your room. Boss reminded you to carefully think everything over, Fixer nodding behind him all the while. Sev just watched you and Scorch gave an exuberant wink. You waved as they walked away.
A moment later, a frantic tapping at your door brought you back. It was Scorch. You opened the door enough to step out, scanning the hallway behind him. The rest of Delta Squad was absent, and Scorch was alone.
“Scorch? Is everything-?”
“You should come with us,” he interrupted breathlessly, dark eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’ll be fun! And we’ll keep an eye out for you. Just think of all the places you’ll be able to see with us. I mean, most of them are war zones, but… But we’ll be there! And you like us. Just keep in mind that you’re getting all of this in the bargain-”
Scorch’s gesture to his own face was interrupted as Sev appeared behind him and smacked the back of his head. “Di’kut. Boss told us to leave her alone.”
“Yeah, so what are you doing here?” Scorch shot back.
“Bringing you back with the rest of us,” Sev explained exasperatedly. “There are only four of us. Did you really think Boss wasn’t gonna notice when you snuck off?”
“There was a chance,” Scorch told him sullenly. 
Sev rolled his eyes. “Go while I repair your damage, vod.”
Scorch glanced back at you, giving you the most pleading look you had ever seen on a grown man. “Just think about what I said!”
“Go,” Sev barked.
When Scorch had reluctantly ambled down the hallway, you bit back a smile and told Sev, “You really don’t have to repair any damage. Everything is fine.”
“I know,” Sev replied easily. “I just came back to give you these.”
He passed you a bag holding something that clacked together lightly as he moved. You must have looked as confused as you felt, because Sev relented and offered an explanation. “They’re vambraces.”
“Oh, great!” you said cheerily, trying to disguise the fact that you were still confused. “Thank you!”
“That’s armor, civvie,” Sev sighed, tapping his forearms. “These pieces here. The left one has a comlink in it and the right one has a locator. In case we need to contact you or you get lost in this temple, respectively. They’re yours no matter what you decide, but… try not to lose ‘em.”
He turned and walked away before you could say anything else. You smiled at his back as you stepped back inside your room once more.
It was just as well that you hadn’t opened the bag when Sev was still there. He probably wouldn’t have appreciated your harsh gasp or the tears that had filled your eyes as you reverently fished the vambraces out and put them on.
They had been carefully painted the exact shade that your front door had been. The brightness of the yellow against your bare, impersonal room in the Jedi Temple made you feel centered for the first time since you had seen the smoldering remains of your home.
Just like that, the weight of decision-making disappeared from your shoulders. You were going with Delta Squad.
---
Author's Note - Was this intended to be a full chapter? Absolutely not. But combining it with anything else was just a little chaotic, so this one stands as its own, rather slow chapter. On the plus side, that means the next chapter shouldn't take nearly as long to finish!
Thank you for reading! You can find other works on my masterlist or sign up for my taglist here. Have a great day!
Taglist: @theclonesdeservebetter @ladykatakuri @fordo-kixed-rex @bitchylittleredhead @itsagrimm @murderofcrows1 @quietplaceinthestars @dinsverdika @cawyden @merkitty49 @professional-yearner @xxxcertifiednerdxxx @justanothersadperson93 @brokenphoenix99 @amaliia @coruscanticoffee @archangelsunited @94pigeons @zykova @nainara5 @ladytano420 @beverlybeav @fangirl-goes-nova
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hanna-kin · 1 year
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My fics
I normally don't like to promote myself too much but now that we have a new season and new people in the fandom, why not.
I love angsty stuff so most fics are pretty angsty. Though there are a couple that are not.
Multi chapter fics
Metal - Erik doesn't die but still crashes his car four days before the new year with Wille in the passenger seat. Simon's world stops for a little bit. - angsty
Snöänglar - What is meant to be a quiet morning walk turns to a horrible event. And August saves the day. - angsty
The spare - Erik lives through his worst nightmare when Wille is horribly injured. - very angsty
The brightest star - Simon is the brightest star in the sky and Wille is a black hole that sucks out all light and tears down everyone that comes too close. Simon is Sirius and Wille is a black hole. And if Simon comes too close he’ll get sucked into the darkness. And there Wille will destroy him. - very angsty
Säg att du älskar mig - They are only trying to survive after Christmas.  Christmas is over and everyone is back at Hillerska. Simon and Wille are both sad and broken and trying to move on. While Simon tries to protect his fragile heart and keep his distance, Wille just tries to make it through his days. Without Simon it feels impossible.
One shots
Was it worth it? - The whole nation witnesses the Crown Prince’s downfall. Or after their break up Simon watches Wille slowly wilter away. - very very angsty
Make a wish - Simon never expected to run into the Crown Prince, at the hospital of all places, and he definitely did not expect him to be so charming and nice. And he most certainly didn't expect to fall in love with him. - a little angsty
Lillebror - Erik's been away for three weeks, his flight home is delayed and Wille is not replying to his texts. When Erik finally arrives home he learns why, Wille is sick. So rather than get some much needed sleep, Erik watches after his little brother. - not angsty
The room - The girls wants to redecorate Wille's room and Simon finds himself helping. - not angsty
Sam and Sion - They weren't supposed to get a cat, so why were they currently on their way to a breeder? Wille wants a cat, Simon is scared of kittens. But maybe a tiny little furball can change his mind? - not angsty
Black hole - It's Christmas and Wille feels like shit. Erik is dad and thier family in shatters. Simon hates him, his parents are disappointed and he is lonelier than ever. He fights against the darkness that surounds itself around him. He's a black hole. - very angsty
Belle - Wille teaches Simon to ride a horse. AU in which Wille has a horse named Belle. Simon is very hesitant but agrees to ride her to make Wille happy even though he's scared of horses. -not angsty
Dear Wille - But in the end their love wasn't enough. And sometimes love doesn't conquer everything. Simon writes letters to his beloved Wille. - very very angsty
På svenska
Det får fan räcka nu - Det får fan räcka nu, tänker Simon när han ser Wille stressa ihjäl sig under våren. Som att inte universitetsstudier på heltid inom internationella relationer och mänskliga rättigheter är nog så förväntas Wille också representera ett helt jävla land under tiden. Han förväntas få höga betyg, vara engagerad under alla representationsmiddagar och möten som han måste delta vid. Även under tentaperioder eller uppsatsskrivande. Även när han är utmattad eller stressad. Och ibland känns det som det bara är Simon som kan dra i handbromsen.
Vad som än händer - En fortsättning på "Det får fan räcka nu"
Eller dagarna efter Willes mentala kollaps.
Svart hål - Det är jullov och Wille mår skit. Erik är död och hela familjen är trasig. Simon hatar honom, hans föräldrar är besvikna och han är ensammare än någonsin. Han kämpar med mörkret som sluter sig om honom. Han är ett svart hål.
Sirius - Simon är den ljusaste lysande stjärnan på himlen och Wille är ett svart hål som suger ur allt ljus och förintar alla som kommer för nära. Simon är Sirius och Wille är ett svart hål. Och om Simon kommer för nära kommer han sugas in i mörkret. Och där kommer WiIlle att förgöra honom.
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lamafuntrolls · 10 months
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trolls:rainbow drop
chapter 3(i think?)
___________________________
Obvist:Giff what are you doing?!
Giff:im doing what i want!
Obvist:(in necto) euo put un i £ynqd yz sutti pnyqx i xtyma yt si en euo hutn quza £iza daka (you son of a bitch im GONNA stick a knife in ya if you dont Côme back here)
Darkness:calm down obvist,it not like your Friend could possibly-
Giff attacked using a broken speed scip and plentung is Deep knife in the dark King arm
Giff:(speaking necto)y hu vatn y vitn nu(i Do went i want to)
Darkness:(growls)you asked for it....
Hé grew to a tree size,is eyes were glowing Deep red and some spikes grew on him.
Darkness:(speaks necto)su(go)
________________
Trollex pov
I saw him grew even bigger then the tree,i didn't now what hé said but i New it might mean attack,since some of those....thing started chasing trolls.
I wish i could Do something,but the pain was just impossible,i saw m'y red disapear,and all the sudden,i couldn't feel any Anger or hate ...
I looked back Up,and m'y vision was blurry.i was getting weaker .i then saw m'y trolls get hurt stab,or getting tortures by the shadow thing.
I wanted to Do something,at least fight or protect me,but i couldn't...The only thing i could Do is cry and hope IT Will just STOP!
___________________
Delta pov
The second hé Said this weird Word i was being chaises,i useally dont run but fight,but it look on is face was yelling me to run.
I was chaises by some sort of zombie cat,well looked like one,not sure what they were.
I then grabbed a nerbie guitare and hot him whit it,i was in the temp but m'y mistake was to look at trollex suffering on the Floor,then some shadow thing surounded me and evrything was black....
I then saw a shadow coming close to me whit a whip,i looked closer and realise...
Delta:dad...
Gelt :look at you...
Hé slapped me whit is whip
gelt:same weak slug
Delta:i..im sorry
Hé slapped me again
Gelt:DONT SORRY ME MISS
hé then Started slappinh me arder,i didn't now that in real,i was crying and getting hurt...
________________________
Trollzard pov
I was running away and i finally found shelter un a tree,i then saw delta on the Ground crying and beatting herself Up,i saw some shadow smoke on her ears,i then wonder if they could make some night mares...
I saw the two young funk prince getting seperated and i didn't see them again...
I saw pour trollex suffering and i think i saw is tes fade away...
Suddenly a Monster came out of no were,but i was grabbed a Silber hand Who took me away in the forest,i manage to get off it grib and i looked into it eyes .
i saw it was a Girl,but i couldn't see her good,i looked into her Soft Blue eyes,and i blushed for some reason.
Do i wondered Who she was...
Trollzard:Who are you....
_________________
Cooper pov
Me and m'y Brother were running from four monstres,i always made chokes in moment a bit well you get it,but right now it was the Most creepy experience Ever!
I looked at m'y friends Who were taken hostage,trollzard was in a tree,delta and trollex to the Ground ,Poppy and Branch were still running,and Barb was fighting.
Suddenly prince d slipped and i went to help him,but one of them took me into the water Will the others took prince d hostage.
It Carrier me into the Deep water and i couldn't breath anymore,all i saw was a bluray figure of trolls that looked like techno,but then passes out....
__________________
No one pov
Darkness was laughing at all the chaos hé cost,hé then saw hé didn't get evryone attention,si hé took tad,a small green techno troll and speaked.
Darkness:surrender yourself,or this...baby pass away...
Hé brought a knife close to tad Who was crying.
Poppy:NONPLS LEAVE HIM ALONE
Darkness:your choise
Hé then let go off and grabbed the leaders,except trollex whit is tenticles and squished them.
Trollex saw is friends getting crushed and hé couldn't take it anymore,all of the sudden hé screamed and a light appeared.
It slapped all dark trolls and tasus and making the leaders get off,hé the. Landed on the Ground,even weeker.
The explosion gaz broke the container that had is color,so hé now had is red back.
Darkness growls and came to him whit 11 needles.
Darkness:your Time as come...
Trollex looked at him whit fear untill...
???:fight someone your OWN size ,chicken leg
(i have nothing to Say,next chapter at least 6 New characters meaning lot of drawings,also if you want to see the other part right trolls:rainbow drop or Click the tag thingymabob)
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lboogie1906 · 2 years
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Paul Waymond Caine (May 17, 1890 - April 15, 1931) the consummate entrepreneur, and chef before his time, always friendly and displaying a pleasant disposition, was born in Greencastle, Indiana. He was one of the Ten Founders of Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity. He attended Greencastle public schools and enrolled at Indiana University sometime between 1909 and 1910 as a Business major. He was a fine caterer and was in demand by the White fraternities on campus and kept many of the Founding Brothers from hunger. Because of a disastrous fire in the Phi Gamma Delta Fraternity house in which he was employed, he lost all of his personal belongings during his freshman year. He persevered but was forced to withdraw from school during his Sophomore year, the winter quarter of 1911. He set up the Caine Catering Company in his hometown and continued his catering business in various cities including Gary, Peoria, Chicago, and Evanston. He opened a restaurant and bakery while residing in Peoria. He published a catering book, Artistic Dishes. While residing in Gary, he took up work at the Gary Steel Mill as a laborer. While residing in Chicago in the early-mid 1920s, he assisted to organize and furnish the Chicago Alumni Chapter’s new ‘Kappa Kastle’. He helped the other Founders in organizing Kappa Alpha Nu. He was among the first to be initiated into the Fraternity. He was instrumental in setting up the Beta, Gamma, Delta, Zeta, and Theta Chapters. He later acquired a 2nd hand goods clothing store and dry-cleaner business in Rockford. He was burned during an explosion of gaseous materials as he worked in his dry cleaning business. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #kappaalphapsi https://www.instagram.com/p/Cdp5QgnOhMYqxuo8mSTXL5CnHr7C9uGvteOc7M0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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waitimcomingtoo · 2 years
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Wicked Game
pairing: frat!Tom Holland x Reader
chapter one: somebody like you
series masterlist
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“Strippers here!” Harry Holland, co chair of the Delta Nu fraternity house shouted over his shoulder when he opened the door. Behind him, a party was in full swing, making your throat go dry.
“Hilarious. Where’s Harrison?” Your roommate, Peyton, asked as she linked her arm through hers.
“Last I saw him he was carrying kegs to the kitchen.” Harry shrugged.
“Thanks. Move.” Peyton slipped her hand into yours and pushed past Harry. You held on tightly to her hand as she pulled you through the house. Frat parties at your college were known to be over the top, especially at Delta Nu. You normally wouldn’t be caught dead at a party, but Peyton practically dragged you away from your desk and forced you to come.
“There he is.” She spotted Harrison. “Come on.”
“Wow. Nice of you to finally show up.” Harrison said as you and Peyton walked up to him.
“Yeah well it took me a minute to get this one out of the dorm.” Peyton said without ever dropping your hand.
“Who’s this?“ Harrison nodded towards you.
“Are you kidding?” Peyton asked him.
“Dude, we’ve met like 6 times.” You said.
“We have?” Harrison looked you up and down as he scratched his head.
“This is Y/n. My roommate.” Peyton stated like it was obvious. “I swear, you don’t listen to a word I say.”
“I’m the one you’re always kicking out so you two can do that whatever is it that you do.” You reminded him.
“Ohhhh. I do know you.” Harrison remembered. “Sorry, I’ve just never seen you not hunched over a desk.”
Wow. Just how every girl wants to be described. Hunched.” You smiled tightly and gave Peyton a look.
“This is a woman in STEM.” Peyton said as she put her hands on your shoulders. “She does not hunch. She slouches.”
“She also doesn’t want to be here.” You chimed in. “Can I please go?”
“Come on. Live a little. We don’t let just anybody into this party.” Harrison said as he handed you and Peyton a red solo cup.
“I can see that. Lot of white guys in here.” You noted as you looked around.
“That’s not true.” Harrison scoffed and looked around. Harrison realized you were right and his smile fell.
“Oh shit. Sam! Get over here. Its happening again!” He called and ran off to find Sam.
“Can I go now? You found Harrison. I don’t need to be here.” You said to Peyton once you were alone again.
“Why? So you can go back to the room and study? It’s Friday night. You have been studying your ass off all week. You should stay and have some fun.” Peyton smiled encouragingly as she played with the ends of your hair.
“I have a calculus midterm on Monday and a lab due tomorrow night.” You whined. “I can’t be wasting time here. Plus, I can see like 12 health code violations in this room alone.”
“I know. We can’t have fairy lights because it’s a “safety hazard” but frat houses can have literal weapons hanging on the walls?” She rolled her eyes and nodded towards the swords mounted on the wall beside you.
“I’m back. Did you miss me?” Harrison asked as he slung an arm around Peyton.
“I did.” Peyton smiled at him.
“I didn’t.” You mumbled.
“You’re in luck Y/n. I brought a friend with me.” Harrison told you as he pushed a boy forward. The boy had a backwards cap on and smirk on your face, the kind that immediately made you roll your eyes.
“Hey. I’m Tom.” He nodded at you as he unapologetically checked you out.
“And I’m gonna head out. Thanks for the drinks.” You smiled tightly and handed your cup back to Harrison. As you were walking towards the door, you felt your phone buzz. You pulled it out and found a text from Peyton.
“Please don’t go! I’m not gonna stay long and I really don’t want to walk back to our dorm alone :((((((“ She had sent you. You let out a sigh and stopped walking. You didn’t want to stay at the party, but you couldn’t let her walk home alone.
“I’ll be downstairs. don’t get pregnant!!!!” You texted.
“I won’t!!!!!” She sent back. A few seconds later, she texted you again.
“I might!!!!” It read, making you laugh. You walked back into the house and found a somewhat quiet hallway. You pushed your way past a few people making out and nestled into a corner. You pulled your dress down to make it longer, which just made it lower up top. Party clothes made you deeply uncomfortable so you covered yourself with your arms and pulled out your phone.
“Could you look anymore miserable?” Tom asked as he leaned his arm up on the wall beside you.
“Don’t bother.” You said without looking up from your phone.
“Don’t bother with what?” Tom played dumb as he looked you up and down.
“With me. It’s not gonna happen.”
“What’s not gonna happen?” He continued to play dumb as he leaned in a little closer. You gave him a look before stepping away from him.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you’re as dumb as you look. I mean just because our roommates are off somewhere getting hepatitis c, it doesn’t mean you and I are gonna hook up.” You said as you went back to your phone.
“Who said I wanted to hook up with you?” Tom shrugged. “You’re kinda mean and kinda hurt my feelings just now.”
“Isn’t that how this thing works?” You asked him. “She brings a friend, me, to keep his friend, you, busy while they sneak off to do god knows what in this hell house?”
“For your information, love, this is a highly respected establishment.” Tom stated. “You are standing in the universities longest running and most awarded fraternity. It is not a hell house.”
As soon as Tom finished his sentence, a light fell down from the ceiling. A group of girls ran by you, the one in the middle puking on the ground. A boy started sliding down the banister and fell off halfway, landing on the ground with a hard thud.
“That almost never happens.” He told you, making you laugh. You decided to let your guard down just a little and look up at him.
“Okay. Sorry I was so rude. I just assumed you were an asshole.” You admitted.
“Aw. You did? You thought that about little old me?” He smiled and held his hand over his heart. You laughed a little as another guy in a frat shirt came up to the two of you.
“Tom we need more kegs out-“
Tom shoved him away by his face before leaning on the wall beside you.
“So do you have a name?” He smiled. “Or should I just call you rude goth girl crashing my party.”
“I’m Y/n. And I’m not goth.”
“I’m sorry. I just assumed you were goth.” Tom held you his hands in defense.
“Why?”
“Because you’re dressed like a witch.” He shrugged, making you let out a shocked laugh.
“Wearing a black dress does not automatically mean I’m dressed like a witch.” You insisted.
“In your opinion.” He said out of the corner of his mouth. His tone was playful, so you smiled a little.
“What was your name again?” You asked him.
“Tom. But my frat brothers call me T-bag.”
“Well since I’m not one of your frat brothers, I’m gonna stick with Tom. Do I want to know why they call you that?”
“No. You do not.” He smiled and shot you a wink.
“I figured.”
“Do you really think I look dumb, by the way? Because I thought turning my hat backwards would show how innovative and creative I am.” He said as he gestured to his hat.
“I don’t know.” You clicked your tongue. “Let me see the logo.“
“No logo. It’s just gray.” He said as he took the hat off to show you.
“Just gray?” You laughed. “Then why wear it?”
“So I can give it to pretty girls to mark my territory.” He smiled as he put the hat on your head.
“Mark your territory? Wow. That’ll do it. That will do it.” You blew out a breath and started to walk away.
“I didn’t mean it like that, love. No.” Tom laughed as he pulled you back towards him by the hand.
“You were doing so well too.” You told him. “Like shocking well. Then you said that.”
“I meant so that my brothers don’t flirt with the girl I’m respectfully trying to court.” Tom explained himself.
“Ohhh. You’re trying to court me?” You played along. “I thought you were trying to fuck. Damn. I have to go.”
“Don’t go, pretty girl.” He whined. “I haven’t even used all my best tricks yet.”
“I can tell. That hat thing was super cringy.”
“You’re funny. For a witch, I mean.” He said, making you look down at your phone as you laughed.
“What are you doing anyway?” Tom asked as he looked over your shoulder to see what you were doing on your phone.
“Are you serious? You’re just playing with your settings?” He laughed at you when he saw what you were doing.
“Shut up.” You laughed in embarrassment. “I don’t like parties.”
“Oh. Is it because you’re quirky and different and not like other girls?”
“Dude. Did you even look at my shoes?”
“Oh! Sneakers and a dress. How did I miss that?” Tom asked as he looked down at your choice of footwear. Peyton forced you into one of her dresses, but she could not force you into heels.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “You must’ve been too busy chugging beer through your butt or whatever it is you frat boys do.”
“You got it.” Tom nodded. “We chug beer through our butts. Like literally all the time.”
You laughed at him again and this time, put your phone away to give him your full attention. Tom noticed the way your body language went from tense to relaxed, so he felt like he was doing was working.
“So let me see if I can get this.” He began. “Standing off by herself at a a party, was dragged here by her more outgoing roomate, and showed up in converse and a dress that she was probably forced into wearing. Is it you? Are you the manic pixie dream girl who is about to change the directory of my life?”
“I don’t know. I’m not really looking to make any friends. I hate this town. I hate everyone in it. Each person is faker than the next. Nobody cares about art anymore. It’s like they’re all just zombies waiting to do what the man tells them next.” You played along as you mashed together every cliche thing you’d ever heard a female character say.
“Wow.” Tom smiled in amazement. “That was so accurate. I’m genuinely impressed.”
“I watch a lot of movies.” You smiled shyly at his compliment.
“I could tell. You missed the part where her parents want her to be their perfect little princess, though.”
“But that’s not her.” You added to his description.
“Nope.” He shook his head. “She’s different. She listens to rock music and grunge bands. Shes and outcast who just wants to see the world.”
“She wants to experience new things and new people.” You continued.
“But she’s never going to do that. Because her main purpose is to propel the boy in the right direction.”
“Her ambitions are just decorations.” You shrugged.
“But-“ Tom began and pointed his finger at you to finish his sentence.
“She’s the coolest girl you’ve ever met.” You said in unison. You both laughed as you mumbled “jinx” and shyly looked down at the ground. He was the last person you’d ever expect to be talking to you at this party. Even more surprising was the fact that he was the funniest guy you’d ever spoken to on campus.
“To be honest with you, I’m kinda surprised you knew what a manic pixie dream girl was.” You told him.
“I watch movies when I’m not not drinking alcohol through my butt.” He shrugged.
“Like rom coms?”
“Hell yeah.” He scoffed. “I love rom coms. Especially anything with Katherine Heigl or Sandra Bullock.”
“I love them too.” You laughed shyly. “Especially Sandra. I’ve seen The Proposal like a thousand times.”
“My personal favorite is Miss Congeniality. But The Proposal is a close second. I’m a big Ryan Reynolds guy.”
“I didn’t peg you for a rom com guy.“ You said as you leaned against the wall.
“Who said anything about pegging?” Tom scoffed. “At least buy me dinner first.”
You laughed at his joke, no matter how dumb it was, as you rolled your eyes to the ceiling. You laughing made him laugh and he was beginning to grow awfully fond of your smile.
“Okay.” You decided once your laughter died down.
“Okay what?”
“I like talking to you. Let me buy you dinner.” You shrugged.
“No. I’m not doing that.” Tom shook his head, making your smile fall.
“A gentleman always pays on the first date.” He continued. “Plus, my fraternity gets unlimited meal swipes.”
“That’s so elitist.” You bit your bottom lip as he propped his arm up on the wall beside you.
“I know.” He smiled as he started to lean in. Just as you were leaning in, Peyton returned to your side.
“There you are. I’ve been looking all over. I won’t torture you anymore. We can go.” She told you, making your smile fall a little.
“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” You nodded and gave Tom an apologetic look.
“Oh. Hi Tom.” Peyton smirked when she realized who you were talking to.
“Hi Peyton.” Tom waved. “How is he?”
“Knocked out right after as usual.” Peyton sighed. “Are you ready to go?“
“Actually, I think I’m gonna stay.” You said as you leaned back against the wall and nodded towards Tom. Peyton bit back a smile and you gave her a look that told her to chill out.
“Okay. I’ll stick around too then. But you’re still texting me every hour with updates.” She told you as she cupped your face in her hands.
“I know the rules.” You rolled your eyes. Peyton pulled you into a hug so she would whisper in your ear.
“Don’t let him take you to a secondary location. More importantly, have fun. And don’t get pregnant.” She whispered, but Tom heard and snorted.
“Please? Just this once?“ You sarcastically begged her.
“I’d make a hell of a dad.” Tom said as he slung an arm around you.
“All right.” Peyton smiled. “Have fun you two.”
“We will.” You rolled your eyes again but appreciated her protection over you.
“I’ll take care of her.” Tom said. “I promise.”
Peyton gave you one last look before leaving you with Tom. You watched her as she disappeared back into the party and felt your heart speed up a little bit. You’d never been in this situation before and you were staring to worry that you were in over your head.
“So where were we?” Tom asked as he leaned his arm against the wall.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged with a coy smile.
“Oh, shoot. I can’t remember either.” Tom tapped his chin. “I think we were talking about - op, nope. We were about to kiss. That was definitely it.”
“Hm. I don’t think so. I’m remembering it differently.”
“I’m pretty sure we were about to kiss. Our faces were here, remember?” Tom smiled as he leaned in closer to you. You gasped a little as your eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips.
“Well now I’m starting to remember.” You replied, trying to sound more confident then you felt.
“Let me jog your memory then.” Tom whispered in your ear before leaning in the rest of the way. He pressed you up against the wall as he kissed you and suddenly, the party went quiet. You’d never kissed a stranger before so you didn’t know where to put your hands, but Tom knew exactly where to put his. He kept one on your hip and the other on your face as he kissed you. Your could taste the beer on his tongue and smiled a little into the kiss. You slowly gained more confidence and tangled your fingers in his hair, accidentally knocking his hat off.
“Do you want to go to my room?” He asked between kisses.
“Okay.” You smiled nervously. It was a first for you to do something like this, but he made you feel safe for some reason.
“How much have you had to drink?” He asked.
“Nothing, why?”
“I just want to make sure you don’t throw up when I do this.” He smirked a little and pulled away from you.
“Do what?” You wondered. In response, Tom lifted you with ease and threw you over his shoulder.
“Tom!” You laughed in surprise as he carried you up the stairs.
“It’s quicker this way.” He shouted over the music as he made his way to his bedroom. He carried you inside and locked the door behind him before gently placing you on the bed. He was top of you in no time and continued to kiss you. You made out on his unmade bed for a while as his hands explored your body. As the kissing got more heated, you started to get a pit in your stomach. You felt like things were moving a little too fast for you and it was making you nervous.
“Do you mind if we don’t go all the way tonight?“ You pulled away to ask Tom. You looked really nervous to ask, which made Tom confused.
“Do I mind?” He laughed like it was a silly thing to ask. “Of course we don’t have to.”
You sighed in relief as he rolled next to you on the bed. He scooted closer to you and turned his head so he could admire you in the dim lighting of his room.
“Sorry.” You laughed nervously. “I’m really sorry. I’m just not a one night stand kind of person. I didn’t mean to lead you on.”
“Darling, you didn’t lead me on.” Tom assured you. “And you don’t have to explain yourself for not wanting to have sex. We can just lie here and talk if you want.”
“Okay.” You smiled shyly and snuggled into his side. You stayed there in that position and talked for hours until you fell asleep in Tom’s arms. Tom looked at you while you slept and let out a guilty sigh. He had a pit of his own growing in his stomach as he replayed the day in his head.
A few hours earlier
“Did you order the kegs for the party tonight?” Harry asked the group as they sat in the campus courtyard.
“Luke did.” Harrison responded.
“Nice. I can’t believe Luke is graduating this semester. Who’s gonna be the president of the frat once he’s gone?”
“Me, obviously.” Tom chimed in.
“Not so fast, mate.” Harry snorted. “I want to be president too. I have a lot of good ideas that could really shape up the place.”
“Your last “good idea” was to crush up Doritos and snort them.” Sam reminded him.
“And it made an otherwise Tuesday night pretty exciting, did it not?” Harry scoffed.
“I also kinda want to be president.” Harrison spoke up.
“Me too.” Sam added. “I want to take a crack at it. Plus, the president gets the biggest room.”
“I need this for my resume guys.” Tom groaned. “I have literally never been in a single club. This is my only extra curricular.”
“Show of hands, who else wants to be president?” Harrison asked the frat brothers. They all raised their hands as they looked around at each other.
“We don’t have to worry about this now. We’ll just vote when the time comes.” Harry suggested.
“We can’t do a vote if we all want to be president. Everyone would just vote for themselves.” Sam reminded him.
“Then I propose we make a bet, boys.” Harrison spoke up. “You want to be president, you need to have what it takes. You need to be charming. You need people skills. You have to do the impossible.”
“And how do you suggest we do that?” Tom asked.
“Like this.” Harrison smirked. “The first person to get a girl to fall in love with them by the end of the semester gets to be president next year.”
“That’s easy.” Harry scoffed. “I already have like 3 chicks in love with me.”
“Not so fast.” Harrison held up a hand. “We get to pick each other’s girl. You have to seduce her in anyway you can and if you can get her to tell you that she loves you, you get to be president.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, gentlemen. I got this in the bag.” Tom told the table of his frat brothers with a smug grin.
“I wouldn’t be so confident, T-Bag. Because I’ve already picked a girl for you.” Harrison smirked and clapped Tom on the back.
“I don’t care.” Tom shrugged. “Pick any girl. I’ll have her eating out of the palm of my hand by the end of the day. I don’t need a whole semester.
“Okay. Her.” Harrison pointed to you across the courtyard with a shit eating grin.
“Her?” Tom sat up in his seat to get a better look at you. You were sitting alone at a table with a pencil behind your ear and multiple notebooks laid out in front of you as you typed away at something on your laptop.
“What’s the matter?” Harrison asked. “You don’t think you can pull her?”
“Of course I can.” Tom scoffed unconvincingly. “I’ve just never seen her before. I don’t even know if she goes here.”
“She definitely goes here. I always see her talking to the schools president. She has like the highest GPA in the state.” Sam told the group, making Tom grow a little nervous.
“Then she is way too smart to go for Tom.” Harry snickered.
“Shut up.” Tom shoved his brother. “I could get her to fall in love with me. Easily.”
“Yeah?” Harrison raised an eyebrow. “How?”
“Look at her. Sitting by herself in a mountain of homework, eating -what is that? Carrots and ranch? What is she a freaking Guinea pig? She’s a total loser. All I have to do is show her the slightest bit of attention and she’ll be begging on her knees to date me.” Tom shrugged as he folded his arms. He wasn’t as confident as he sounded and hoped his frat brothers wouldn’t pick up on that.
“Damn, T-Bag.” Harrison laughed. “Already picturing her on her knees?”
“Shut up. Trust me, I got this. All I have to do is sleep with her. She’ll be telling me she loves me before can even get my pants back on.” Tom replied as he held out his hands. His brothers high fived him on either hand for his objectification of a woman.
“What makes you so sure?” Harrison wondered.
“Because lonely girls like that will tell anybody that they love them just in case they say it back. And that’s the loneliest girl I’ve ever seen.” Tom said as he pointed to you. “Trust me, by this time next semester, you guys will be singing “hail to the chief” every time you see me.”
A few hours later
“Could you look anymore miserable?” Tom asked as he leaned his arm up on the wall beside you.
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gamma-xi-delta · 4 years
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ALPHA XI DELTA - INDIANA UNIVERSITY 2020
Published by  IU PHA Recruitment
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hoshologies · 11 months
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ALL GREEK LOVE, LEE H. [TEASER]
synopsis — you spent the entire summer telling your family that you weren't going to join a sorority. now not only are you an initiated member of delta eta sigma, but you've been elected to the social chair position for you chapter. that's all well and good until heeseung lee, the newly elected social chairman for lambda rho and well-known in the greek community, reaches out to you to start planning runouts between your respective chapters. and now you're spending a lot more time with the cutest boy you've ever met.
genres &&. warnings — romance, fluff, meet-cute, smut, strangers to friends to lovers!au, college!au, greek life!au &&. underage drinking, more tbd.
teaser word count — 1.4k
expected fic word count — 10.5k+
from the author — this is my first real return to writing in a long time. i've been writing little pieces here and there, but this is the first genuine fic i've written in a while. i'm not done writing it, but what i have written i am so incredibly proud of. this fic is a passion project framed around representing a more accurate version of greek life, seeing as i'm a sorority girl. not everything i've experienced during my time in greek life is depicted in the full fic, but i tried to get a few things i think are way more interesting than just frat parties.
update — all greek love is out now!
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the entire summer before starting your freshman year of college, you had told your family that you weren’t going to join a sorority. in your mind, there was a specific mold that one needed to fit into to join a sorority and quite frankly, you checked none of the boxes on those stereotypes. 
yet here you sit, months later, in your sorority’s chapter meeting. and you’ve just been elected to the social chair position of the chi nu chapter of delta eta sigma. 
truthfully, you’re not quite sure how you ended up here. you hadn’t formally rushed the week before school, but a couple of drunk girls at a frat party at the beginning of the semester had told you that you should rush their sorority. maybe you’d been a little desperate to branch out or maybe you were just a little curious of what rushing looked like, but a few days later at the student organization fair, you’d found the booth for the sorority the girls had told you they belonged to, delta eta sigma, and signed up for their informal rush.
by the end of october, you had been extended a bid, assigned a big, and promptly initiated into the chapter in what you jokingly referred to as a cult ritual (how could you describe it any other way? all white outfit? candles? promises to not divulge secrets about rituals that happen behind closed doors?).
and now, just three weeks after officially joining the chapter, you’ve ended up on the programming board somehow. you’d gotten a call from the selection board while sitting in the drive-thru of mcdonalds, waiting impatiently for your order of fries and a sprite as a treat for doing well on your gen psych quiz. the girl who’d called you said you’d made “quite the impression” on the sorority since accepting the bid and that they (including the chapter advisor) thought you’d be the perfect fit for the social chair.
“it’s a solo position, so you won’t have a co-chair like community service does, but given your grades so far this semester and the impact you’ve made on the chapter already, we would really love to see what you can do in this position! would you be interested?”
so really, how could you say anything but yes? you still don’t think you fit all that perfectly into the chapter, but they were giving you an opportunity to get involved and to make yourself fit. your name is announced for the social chair, one of your senior pictures pasted up on the powerpoint, and the girls around you smile and snap their fingers. from the executive board seats up front, your big smiles at you, eyes sparkling with something akin to pride.
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a few days later, as you’re getting lunch at the student union, your phone screen lights up with a notification from groupme. a name you vaguely recognize is paired with a message that gets cut off after a few words.
heeseung lee: hey! this is heeseung from lambda rho and…
as you sit down with your salad and dr. pepper, you click the notification and read it in full. at the very top of the new message thread is heeseung’s picture and it clicks where you recognize him from. he’s friends with your big and he’s involved in a few of the bigger student organizations on campus, namely the activities board, so you’ve seen him in the student union fairly often.
[1:36 pm] heeseung lee: hey! this is heeseung from lambda rho! i’m friends with liv and she told me that you just got elected as the new social chair for your sorority. i just got slated into the same position for my frat.
[1:36 pm] heeseung lee: i know we won’t start running things until next semester, but i just wanted to reach out and touch base with you. i’m really looking forward to planning runouts with you next year :]
[1:37 pm] heeseung lee: sorry. i hope that wasn’t too weird. i guess i’m just a little too excited and want to get a bit of a headstart on things. have a good day!
you laugh to yourself, shaking your head as you set the phone down to take a bite of salad. before getting involved in greek life, you always assumed sorority girls and frat guys were airheaded and mean, people who peaked in high school, trying desperately to drag those glory days out. obviously since then, you’ve come to realize that while it is true in some occasions, most times, greek life members are the opposite.
heeseung, who you’ve never spoken to before, is proving that.
[1:42 pm] hi heeseung! not weird at all, i promise. and i’m really excited to plan events with you next semester too :]
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by the beginning of february, you haven’t done much with your position. granted, the semester has only really been in full swing for about a week and a half and you have two full semesters to do plenty of things, but you’re itching to start planning. the binder you were given after the officer transition ritual has so many good ideas, everything from runouts with frats and sororities to both formal and semiformal.
while you’re brainstorming ideas for potential social events late on a tuesday night, your phone lights up from its spot on your nightstand, the short bell sound ringing out. you reach for it absentmindedly as you finish writing down the idea you had (rent out skating rink??? check budget). since the beginning of the school year, you’ve become desensitized to the groupme icon when it appears in your notifications, so much so that you barely register heeseung’s name upon first glance. it takes a second look for you to realize who’s texted you.
[9:12 pm] heeseung lee: sorry for texting so late. i just wanted to see if you wanted to meet up some time and start on some ideas for a runout?
[9:12 pm] heeseung lee: obviously not now!! but if you’re free some time this week, we could meet somewhere and talk. i spent all of winter break brainstorming stuff, so i’d really like to run it by you if that’s ok.
[9:14 pm] hi again heeseung. i was actually planning on getting lunch tomorrow at the student union after i’m done with class at 11 if you’re free then?
the second you press send, you immediately start second guessing yourself. does it come off like you’re asking him to have lunch with you? because that wasn’t your intention. really, you just meant that you’re going to be on campus proper for a little bit and wanted to offer to meet before you got lunch. not that it would be a bad thing if he asked if you could get lunch together; liv likes heeseung well enough and you’ve seen him around, and he really does seem nothing but nice, so lunch really couldn’t hurt— okay, take a breath. it is not that serious.
you take a deep breath and then let your muscles go lax as you exhale. better. 
it feels like ages pass before he texts back. you’re worried you’ve scared him off, but it really shouldn’t be that stressful. it’s just a text and he’s the one who wanted to meet up in the first place anyways; you just offered a time and location. but finally, your phone dings again and his name lights up your screen.
[9:21 pm] heeseung lee: actually that works perfect!! i get out of class at the same time and usually grab lunch at the u before heading to the activities board office. wanna meet by the dining area next to the office?
[9:21 pm] sounds like a plan!! i’ll see you then!
heeseung, you realize as you set your phone down and put away your binder for the night, is the only social chair of any of the greek organizations who has reached out to you to start getting the ball rolling. he seems to be just as anxious as you are about doing this job well, which makes you feel at least a little validated. nervous and jittery though you may be about meeting him for the first time tomorrow after only having chatted with him over text twice, the idea of him feeling the same as you brings a strange form of comfort. with enough of it, you actually start looking forward to seeing him tomorrow as you lay down to sleep, mind running a mile a minute with what it’ll be like to meet him after all of the things you’ve heard about him from liv. by the time you slip into the embrace of sleep, anxiety has boiled down into anticipation.
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jupitercomet · 1 year
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The Trial Run: Chapter Two
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summary - Bradley Bradshaw has one goal as he finishes his junior year of college - get Makayla Cunningham to be his girlfriend. Because Makayla Cunningham is exactly the kind of girl a guy like Bradley Bradshaw deserves. There's just one problem, Makayla is adamant that Bradley is a bad boyfriend. If he wants to win her over, Bradley has to prove he can keep a girlfriend of Makayla's choosing for the entire summer. It's just his luck that girl is his little sister's best friend.
warnings - college au, frat boy Bradley, language, brief mentions of throwing up, brief threats of violence, underage drinking, Bradley is 22 and reader is 19, no use of y/n, Bradley is 6'6" because I said so
this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact
word count - 6.7k
the trial run masterlist
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“No.”
“Hello to you too, Giselle,” Bradley doesn’t look up from his controller, keeping his eyes trained on his God of War Ragnarök character when his little sister storms into his room. It’s almost migraine inducing how easy it is for her to get into Sigma Chi. Most of the freshmen just let her right through the front door.
“No, Bradley,” Giselle stomps over to shove his shoulder. “You’re not going on a date with my best friend.”
Bradley’s head snaps to his sister, video game suddenly forgotten. “She told you?”
“Of course she told me! You really thought she’d keep something like that from me?!” Giselle puts her hands on her hips.
Bradley blinks. “Well… yeah.”
Bradley was banking on it actually. The second he realized he had history with you, he begged Makayla to pick a different girl. Dating his little sister’s best friend presented its own list of problems that had nothing to do with how good of a boyfriend Bradley is—namely his sister herself. But Makayla was only more delighted to hear this, insisting that, if Bradley really wants to date her, he’d have to make it work.
So he started thinking of how he could use the whole thing to his advantage. Obviously his sister would hate the idea—as she is currently making very apparent—so you’d have to resort to sneaking around. As a result, you’d start feeling guilty about the whole thing and that would get you to start thinking about if your relationship with Bradley means as much to you as your relationship with Giselle. And Bradley would make sure that it does, being the perfect boyfriend to ensure that you unintentionally over magnify how you feel about him when conflating him to his sister.
But then you told Giselle.
“Fuck you, asshole!” Giselle shoves his shoulder again. “Obviously she was gonna tell me. She’d never do something like that to me and the fact that you don’t know that proves that you don’t deserve to go on a date with her.”
Giselle ends her words with a finality that chips at Bradley’s frustration. What is with everyone thinking he’s some asshole boyfriend? And, frankly, he finds it insulting that Giselle’s just decided he’s not good enough for you. From what he can tell, there’s nothing glaringly special about you—Bradley deserves you just fine.
“Well, I don’t know if she told you, but she said yes. You gonna dictate who she goes on dates with now?” Bradley scoffs.
Giselle traces her teeth with her tongue, crossing her arms as she narrows her eyes at him. “What do you want from her, Bradley? This entire year—our entire lives—you never paid any attention to her. Why do you suddenly want her now?”
“That’s a shitty way to talk about your best friend, Giselle,” Bradley turns his neck lazily to smirk at her, grabbing his controller again. “You don’t think I could just be attracted to her?”
Giselle’s fists clench and it looks like she’s about to blow a fuse before she bites her lip and takes a breath, letting her eyes flutter closed for a second. Bradley knows he’s enjoying this far more than he should, but Giselle’s been putting a wrench in his plans with Makayla since she first joined Delta Nu—her big mouth is half the reason Makalya knows what she does about his sleeping history—so it’s a bit vindicating to mess with her.
“I told her I wasn’t going to stop her from going on a date with you,” Giselle says finally—calmly.
Bradley’s eyebrows raise. That is not what he was expecting and his fingers stumble on his PS5 controller as he turns back to his sister in slight disbelief. 
“But I know you,” she continues. “And I know what you look like when you’re interested in a girl, Bradley. The second I see you’re genuinely interested in her, I’ll step aside. But—” Giselle jabs her manicured finger into Bradley’ chest. “I. Haven’t. Seen. That. Yet.” She accentuates each word with another jab.
Again Bradley scoffs, catching her finger between his own. “What are you? A fucking polygraph? You don’t know shit, Giselle.”
“I know there’s no way in frozen-over hell I’d let you date my best friend otherwise,” Giselle challenges. “And, as we’ve established, she’ll pick me over you.”
Bradley closes his eyes to stop from rolling them—that’s the last thing he needs his sister to see—and pinches the bridge of his nose. “So… what? I just have to look interested?” He has a hard time believing that Giselle isn’t just using this as an excuse to forbid you from dating him without looking like a bitch in the process.
“Look. For reasons I don’t understand, she doesn’t projectile vomit at the thought of you so—” Giselle lets out a breath of defeat, ignoring Bradley’s glare. “If you really like her, I… I guess I could get over it.”
This conversation is not at all going the way Bradley thought it would. Briefly Bradley thinks that maybe he was wrong and there is something special about you, if it’s enough for Giselle to be willing to step aside. He knows there’s not a single one of his friends who he’d do that for, if the roles were reversed.
Before he can say anything in response, Giselle’s features harden. “But, if you hurt her, I swear to God, Bradley, I will bash your knees in with your own fucking golf clubs.”
“There she is,” Bradley mutters, getting up. He feels conflicted. On the one hand, he’s getting his sister’s permission to pursue you—which he never thought would happen—but, on the other, he has to somehow convince Giselle he’s genuinely interested in you. And he has no idea how to do that.
“I’m serious, Bradley—”
“I know you are,” Bradley waves Giselle off, moving to turn off his TV. God of War Ragnarök isn’t a priority right now. “And how exactly are you planning on deciding if I like her or not?”
Giselle bites her bottom lip, rolling it between her teeth like she’s about to say something she may regret. “I’ll bring her to the football game Friday.”
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You let out a breath when your professor dismisses you, sliding your laptop into your bag before heading towards the line of students trailing out of the room. With everyone counting down the days to summer, every class seems more draining than the last and—though you know you shouldn’t—you’re planning on taking a nap as soon as you get back to your dorm.
Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you scrub at your eyes, trying to muster up some energy as you push through the building’s main doors. You don’t know why you’re so drained, maybe you just haven’t been sleeping enough. You should convince Giselle to have another sleepover with you soon, her bed at the sorority is way more comfortable than yours.
You’re so caught up in your exhaustion that you don’t notice the large body propped against the front of the science department until it pushes off the wall and makes its way over to you. “Why’re you always ignoring me, sunshine?” Bradley’s voice is teasing as you whirl around to face him.
To his credit, it does wake you up a bit—fight or flight has the tendency to do that to a person—and you look up at him with features drenched in confusion. Before you can stop yourself, you ask, “How did you know I have class here?”
Bradley almost seems to pinken at that and now you think you must really be tired because, if there’s anything Bradley Bradshaw does less than apologize, it’s blush. “I, um, Kyle told me he’s in your political science class.” He scratches at the back of his neck.
“Right…” You trail off, looking around awkwardly as though that will somehow convince Bradley to stop showing up so randomly. You don’t know what to do with all his sudden attention and—while there’s a small part of you doing cartwheels and happy dances every time Bradley talks to you—he’s not the Bradley you’re used to and you’d like to go back to not embarrassing yourself on a daily basis.
Bradley clears his throat. “Do you have another class after this?”
“No, I was heading back to my dorm.” You fiddle with the straps of your bag.
“Cool,” Bradley slides his hands in his sweatpants pockets, nodding his head. “I’ll walk you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“Are you coming to the football game Friday?” Bradley cuts you off and you decide that, at least with Bradley, you won’t have to worry about falling asleep on your way back to your dorm, so you resign yourself to the fact that he’ll be escorting you.
You bite your lip. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Bradley looks down at you with a teasing smile.
“I…” The words come out weak when you realize how pathetic they sound, “have homework.”
Weirdly, Bradley’s smile only grows and he shakes his head at you slowly. “Well, I hope you come. How else am I supposed to get my sister to agree to let me take you on a date?”
You nearly trip over a crack in the sidewalk and Bradley’s hand shoots out to steady you. “You— You still want to go on a date with me?”
Honestly—though you said yes—part of you expected the whole thing to be a joke. And when Giselle explained to you the condition she’d given him, you couldn’t help but think that, even if he was serious, Bradley would decide he was no longer interested. You’re not worth all that trouble, especially not to a guy like Bradley Bradshaw.
“Don’t tell me you changed your mind already, sunshine,” Bradley throws a hand to his heart.
“No, I—” You look down to hide your fluster. “I haven’t changed my mind.”
Your dorm building comes into view and Bradley fiddles lazily with the hat sitting backwards on his head. “Good, ‘cause neither have I.”
A comfortable silence falls over you and your exhaustion begins creeping back in. You’re sure you probably seem tired, but Bradley doesn’t mention it, simply slowing his pace to match yours wordlessly.
“You have polisci on Mondays and Wednesdays, right?” He asks suddenly when you reach the door of your dorm building. You give him a small nod. “I can walk with you after if you want?”
While every part of you is screaming to just run away from Bradley and never look at him again, you can’t help but glow under his attention. Because, sure, you make a complete fool out of yourself every time you have a conversation with him, but he’s still trying to talk to you. You’re sure Bradley could have easily grown bored of you by now, but he hasn’t. And you do like being around him.
Your cheeks heat and you glance down at your shoes to compose yourself. “I, um, I’d like that.”
“Good,” Bradley smiles, reaching forward suddenly to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’ll bring you a Red Bull next time, sleepyhead.”
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You feel a tad silly in the jean shorts Giselle picked out for you when you’re sitting on the cold metal of the bleachers. But with the amount of students filling the stands, you think you might have actually been hot in anything else. Unsurprisingly, Giselle had convinced you to come to the football game with her and Bob—Natasha and Mickey have plans which, of course, you teased them about relentlessly.
You were actually having a good time though. Bob was there to explain anything you didn’t understand about football. With Reuben playing, Giselle was very invested, which was honestly more entertaining than the game itself. Though you did your best to understand what Bob was explaining to you, you ended up just staring at Bradley most of the time.
“Come on,” Giselle stands up as soon as the whistle is blown. She picks up a bouquet of flowers she had sitting on the bleachers next to her. “I wanna get on the field before they go back to the locker room.”
You balk when your eyes land on the bouquet in Giselle’s hands, speed-walking after her as she exits the stands. “Wait, should I have gotten Bradley something?”
Giselle pauses, turning around to look between you and the flowers. You’re sure you look like a nervous wreck and that must be the reason she’s taking pity on you because she holds the bouquet out to you.
“Here. Take one, that’s all he deserves,” Giselle jokes.
You smile gratefully, looking over the flowers quickly. You’re not sure if Bradley even likes flowers, maybe he’d think the whole thing was stupid, but you didn’t want to see him completely empty-handed.
You panic slightly over which flower to pick. A rose feels like too much, but the clusters of small larkspur feels like not enough. Aware you’re holding up Giselle and the line of people looking to exit the stands behind you, you gently pull a peony from the bouquet, snapping the stem to make it shorter. You slide it into your back pocket as you, Giselle, and Bob continue to the field. 
Reuben’s already waiting for you when you get down there and you congratulate him on the win, before giving him and Giselle their privacy. Bob knows a few of the other football players and offered to introduce you while he went and said hi, but you already have one football player making you forget how to breathe, you don’t need to meet more. So you find yourself alone, waiting for your friends, and normally you’d move somewhere more private, but this time you purposefully stay visible on the field.
“Hey.”
You’re not as surprised when you turn around to see Bradley jogging over to you. He’s still panting from the game, curls of hair plastered by sweat to his forehead and grass stains smudged across his uniform. Again, it hits you how effortlessly handsome he is. He reminds you of the boys in those teen magazines you and Giselle used to gush over when you were younger. But Bradley’s much more handsome than those boyish celebrities they marketed to girls, you think—like an Abercrombie & Fitch model or something.
“You came.” Bradley slows to a stop in front of you and you try to shake off the thoughts of pubescent One Direction and shirtless guys in skinny jeans.
You look down bashfully. “You, um, played really well.”
“Yeah?” Bradley lights up, taking a step closer to you. His large frame blocks out the jealous cheerleaders that are watching the two of you. You can’t exactly blame them, you also don’t know why Bradley’s flirting with a freshman when they’re right behind him. “Well, I had a girl to impress in the stands.”
“You didn’t know I was coming,” you point out.
Bradley grins with a light shrug. “I was hoping.”
You give him a single nod, moving your hands to your back pockets in attempts to hide your nerves. Before you can shove your fingers into the denim of your shorts, something soft hits the palm of your hand.
“I, um, I didn’t know if I should bring flowers or something, so,” you hold up the pitiful peony you’d snagged from Giselle’s bouquet for Mickey and almost instantly regret it when you take in Bradley’s face.
Bradley takes the peony from you with two fingers, looking at the dusty pink petals as he spins the stem slowly between his thumb and index finger. You don’t know what he’s thinking—he’s probably asking himself what the fuck he’s supposed to do with a flower at the end of a football game—his expression unreadable as he holds the peony up to his eye line.
“You know, it’s stupid actually.” One of your hands shoots out to take the flower from him. He’s probably going to toss it away once your back is turned. You don’t know what you were thinking in the first place. “I can just—”
Bradley pulls the peony back, holding it far above where you can reach to stop you from taking it from his grasp. “You sure you know how gifts work, sunshine?” His entire face is teasing, a smirk playing on his lips, and your cheeks heat with embarrassment.
“You don’t have to pretend—”
“Is this— What the fuck is it called? Is it your favorite flower?” Bradley doesn’t seem at all concerned with your fluster nor your mortification over the peony, tucking its stem into the waistband of his football pants so that the bloom peeks out right in front of his left hip. It stands out noticeably against the navy blue and slate gray of your school colors.
You bite down harshly on your bottom lip, swallowing down your embarrassment. It’s not as hard as you thought it would be, not with all the confusion taking its place. “It’s a peony… And it’s not my favorite, no.”
“What’s your favorite flower then?”
“Um,” you shrug slowly. “I don’t have one.”
Bradley lets out a snort of disbelief. The peony ruffles lightly at his side. “You don’t have one? Doesn't every chick have a favorite flower?”
“I— I just like flowers, like, in general, I guess... Why does it even matter?” You furrow your brows.
Bradley dips his neck down to look at you, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip before he grins. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t know your favorite flower?”
The earth stills on its axis. Traffic comes to a screeching halt. Dogs stop barking. Lions pause mid-wildebeest attack. Every person in every house in every neighborhood stops speaking, lips only parted in shock. The whole world freezes because how else could it react to such shell shocking news? 
“Boy-boyfriend?!” Your eyes widen to saucers as you look at Bradley incredulously. All other thoughts have flown out of your head, including who exactly you’re currently talking to. “I’m sorry, when was that established?”
“You didn’t know? I mean, come on, you brought me flowers, sunshine. Sounds pretty ‘girlfriend’ to me,” Bradley has the audacity to shrug, a nonchalant expression on his face as he looks down at you.
“I brought you a flower! As in one, singular, flower. What is this? The 1600s? Have some standards, Bradley!” You look at him incredulously, chest heaving from the amount of air you’d pushed from your lungs in your dismay.
Bradley bites the inside of his cheek to hide his smile, though his amusement is entirely visible in the hickory brown of his irises. You may have loved Bradley since you were 10, but even love has its limits. And, right now, you’ve had enough of this entire, unexplained 180 he’s doing with outrageous things like asking you on dates and declaring he’s your boyfriend.
You cross your arms with a glare. “What?”
“Nothin’,” Bradley holds his hands up in mock surrender. “It’s just— This is the first time you’ve made a joke around me.” When you visibly don’t follow, he grins, opening his mouth again to jog your memory, “‘Have some standards, Bradley’?”
You hate this. 
You’ll never recover from it, actually. You need to schedule a meeting with your advisor and transfer schools immediately. No, you should just drop out all together. And then you’ll flee the country and change your name, dye your hair or something until you’re unrecognizable. You hate this. You hate this. You hate this.
“I didn’t— I’m sorry, I—” Every sentence dies on your tongue. Because what is there to say? You just told Bradley Bradshaw that he should have some standards.
This time, Bradley can’t hide his grin, his lips stretching across his cheeks as he watches you fumble entirely with your words. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, sunshine.”
“I’m not—” You give up on trying to argue, letting out a defeated sigh. “Just— Why are you suddenly so interested in me, Bradley?” You finally spit out the question that’s been plaguing you since Bradley stopped you on your way to the library.
For a moment, Bradley doesn’t respond. He almost looks nervous, which is a strange change of pace given how nervous he makes you on a regular basis. His thoughts are entirely apparent on his face—which would be helpful if you could actually read any of them. Instead, he runs through about five emotions you can’t pinpoint before he finally lands on some form of defeat.
“Your smile,” Bradley says finally.
“What?”
“Your smile,” he repeats, jaw clenching like spitting the words out is physically painful. “You’re always smiling and laughing when you’re with Giselle. I’ve never made you smile.” 
“You… you want to make me smile?” You don’t even know what to say, simply staring at Bradley in utter disbelief. If he hadn’t rocked your world for what feels like the millionth time, maybe you would have paid more attention to the fact that this is the longest you’ve been able to look Bradley in the eye.
Bradley almost sounds like he’s huffing and he looks to the left, prodding his tongue to his cheek. “Yeah, so…”
“I’m not your girlfriend, Bradley.” You tell him and even the words feel unbelievable on your tongue.
“What?” Bradley’s brows furrow and he snaps his head back to you. “Why not?”
Your eyes travel down the peony in his waistband and you suddenly realize that Bradley must have been very purposeful with his arm movements during your conversation because it doesn’t look the least bit crushed.
“You haven’t asked me to be.”
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Though Bradley would take it to his grave, he actually prefers the more chill kickbacks Sigma Chi throws over their ragers. Maybe it’s because he’s now club president, and watching pledges and other members doing stupid shit for the sake of it is only fun when you’re not in charge of them. It also helps that kickbacks don’t leave the house totally trashed—only mildly trashed. But the biggest reason is that Makayla is far more likely to come to a Sigma Chi kickback than a Sigma Chi rager.
With everyone still in good spirits from the football team’s win and Javy’s jungle juice making its rounds, Bradley is in an oddly good mood. Not even the fact that his sister crashed with all her friends is pissing him off and, with another sip of Javy’s jungle juice, he makes his way to Makayla.
She turns around like she’s expecting him, which, Bradley notes, is something you don’t do. You always seem somewhat surprised to see him. That’s something that had the potential to put a damper on his mood. You. You rejecting him isn’t something he had been anticipating nor is how much it’s currently vexing him.
You’re here too, with his sister. He caught sight of you closer to the beginning of the party, sipping from a red solo cup of Sprite as you sat with your friends. And, as of now, you have yet to even look at him.
“What are you doing?” Makayla questions him, pulling Bradley from his thoughts.
He turns to her with a furrowed brow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Makalya gestures towards you with her cup. “Is this how you’d treat me at one of these parties? Talking to another girl?”
“I’m literally talking to you right now,” Bradley responds flatly.
Makayla tilts her head at him condescendingly. “I’m not your girlfriend though, Bradley.”
“Yeah?” He grumbles. “Neither is she.”
That good mood he was in just minutes earlier doesn’t seem to be lasting long when Makayla starts laughing at him. “She’s not? That’s a shame. I was actually kinda looking forward to this.”
“It’s been a week,” Bradley tries to reason. It’s ridiculous how everyone’s acting like he should be in love with you. It’s not his fault you hardly seem able to carry a conversation with him.
“Yeah,” Makayla agrees. “And instead of working for it, you’re over here talking to me. I’m not easy, Bradshaw.” She sings.
Bradley bites back the fact that he’s well aware of that, pursing his lips as he glances back towards you and your friends. His brows furrow when he notices how uncoordinated you seem, stumbling and teetering on wobbly legs. You weren’t like that when you first got here.
He shakes it off, getting up. “Fine.”
Instead of heading towards you, Bradley turns to the kitchen. If he was spending the rest of the night with you and his sister, he’s going to need another drink. 
Bradley shoulders past the people lingering in the kitchen, moving to grab a beer from the fridge. Opening it against the edge of the countertop, he takes a long sip. Honestly, he doesn’t understand Makayla. How is spending the night flirting with you going to prove anything to her? It can’t be more productive than just spending the night with her instead.
He takes another sip of his beer, slowing when a worried looking Giselle steps into the kitchen and rushes over to him.
“I need your help,” she skips the pleasantries, gnawing on her bottom lip. “It’s—”
“We should go swimming— Mickey, let go!” Bradley looks over his sister at the sudden exclamation to see Mickey Garcia trying to wrangle you back down to the couch while you protest with flailing, sloppy limbs.
“She got confused and accidentally drank all of Reuben’s cup instead of hers. She’s never drank that much before,” Giselle explains.
Bradley sets his half finished beer on the countertop, sparing you another glance while his sister continues.
“She’s refusing to let any of us take her back to her dorm, Bradley.” Giselle follows her brother’s gaze back to you. “And I have no idea why.”
Bradley lets his eyes dart to Makayla. This is what she wants from him, right? Good boyfriends take their girlfriend home when she’s had too much to drink. And the fact that he’s ditching his own party to take care of you would definitely get him brownie points.
“I’ll take her home.”
Giselle looks back at him in an odd mixture of relief and disbelief. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Bradley prompts them both to start exiting the kitchen. “I know where her dorm is. It’s not a big deal.”
Giselle looks like she wants to say something, but she stops herself, letting out a breath. “Thank you.”
The two make their way over to your concerned friends who seem to still be trying to convince you that right now is not the time to be swimming. Bradley raises a finger to Giselle, signaling for her to go up to them without him while he grabs something. He moves to grab the hoodie he’d left by the front door earlier today. He has a fleeting thought that maybe he should bring you a hoodie too, but you’re already wearing a long sleeve and he knows that, if he gives one to you, he’ll probably never see it again. Throwing the hoodie over his head, Bradley makes his way back to you.
Giselle is calmly explaining to you and your friends that Bradley’s going to take you home and, to the surprise of everyone—including Bradley—you seem to find absolutely no issue with it. Bradley can tell that the rest of your friends are far less trusting of his intentions than Giselle is. Bob is quite literally glaring daggers at him. But they all know that Giselle never would have asked him if she didn’t know for a fact that you’d be fine.
Bradley wants to be offended that they think so little of him, but the fact that it appears you don’t somehow overshadows it. He watches as you talk animatedly with Mickey, a wide smile on your face, as the brunet helps you off the couch and Bradley’s jaw clenches at the sight.
Then Natasha is standing in front of him, cutting him off from the view of you, and handing him your phone while she eyes him suspiciously. “Our dorm’s on the second floor,” is all she says. “It’s the one with a whiteboard calendar on it.”
Bradley nods, pocketing your phone in his sweats. He can feel Makayla’s eyes on him as Mickey finally passes you off.
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“Stop it,” Bradley hisses, hand wrapping around your middle to stop you from racing up the stairwell.
He’s managed to wrangle you back to your dorm building—and Makayla isn’t even here to see him anymore—so your sudden spurts of drunken recklessness are wearing on his patience. You pout a little against his hoodie, before slowly relaxing all your weight on his chest.
“No,” Bradley starts, trying to hold you up when you begin sinking. “No, no, no. I am not carrying you.” If you hear him, you aren’t acting like it, continuing your descent to the ground. Bradley lets out a heavy sigh, lifting you by your armpits before the hem of your skirt can touch the dirty ground of the stairwell. “And I’m carrying you. Okay.”
Your legs wrap around his waist, ankles crossing, and you hum in content as you rest your temple on his shoulder. Bradley suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. He tries to reason with himself that this is exactly what Makayla is talking about—him needing to practice boyfriend things like this. And he knows for a fact that she gets drunk way more than you do. Securing his hands under the bottoms of your thighs, Bradley starts walking up the stairs.
To his relief, you’ve stopped moving at least. You’re staying still in his arms instead of trying to lean too far over the railing or bolt up the stairs. It’s also the first time you’ve been this close to him. Hints of your tea tree shampoo fill his inhales, the top of your head just under his chin. Bradley takes a deep breath.
“You’re gonna feel like shit tomorrow.” There’s something about the silence he doesn’t like, so Bradley says the first thing that comes to mind as he carries you to your floor.
He feels you shrug against him as he finally leaves the stairwell. 
“Oh, it’s hittin’ now, huh sunshine?” Bradley’s racking his brain to remember which room Natasha told him your dorm was, but even that can’t stop him from lightly teasing you. “Yeah, not so fun chugging a cup of Javy’s jungle juice, is it?”
His words cause you to squirm against him suddenly, fighting his hold as he walks through the hallway, and Bradley has to tighten his grip on you so you don’t fall from his arms. “Hey, would you— Stop. What is wrong with you?”
“‘S fun,” you slur angrily and, finally, Bradley finds the door with the whiteboard calendar Natasha was talking about.
Bradley transfers you to one arm as he fiddles with the door to your dorm. “Fine. Sure. It’s fun.” 
He steps inside your dorm, putting you down on what he assumes is your bed—if the polaroids of you and Giselle stuck to the wall are anything to go by. 
The room is smaller than Bradley expected. He’s been living in the Sigma Chi house since freshman year so he never really got to experience dorm life. As he turns on a lamp and plugs your phone into the charger plugged in the same outlet, Bradley notes how very you your side of the room seems—not that he would know, but it just kind of makes sense.
Your bed is littered with a handful of stuffed animals, all propped up against your lavender pillows and bed set. A stack of your textbooks sits on your desk, surrounded by small trinkets and cutely shaped erasers. Like Giselle, you have a short chain of fairy lights hanging above your bed, their soft, yellow hue shining down on you as you sit on the mattress. Almost every inch of your wall is covered in pictures, polaroids, photobooth strips, and movie tickets. Like the eggshell white is some kind of scrapbook for your favorite memories.
Bradley steps forward to the closet, awkwardly rifling through your clothes and giving a wide berth to any basket that looks remotely like it houses your undergarments. All he needed to do was grab you some pajamas—and just your pajamas—take off your makeup, and get you to sleep. Boyfriend shit. 
“Alright,” he tosses a large t-shirt and pair of shorts on your bed. “Change.” Bradley looks at you for a second before pursing his lips. “...Please.”
Then he’s turning his back to you, pulling his phone out to google what the fuck makeup remover even looks like as he moved to search through your toiletries. You seem to have brought less to college than Giselle did—Bradley doesn’t even know how she fit all her shit in a bag or the use she had for half of it—but it still takes him some time to hunt down the pink cap of your makeup remover bottle and a washcloth.
He doesn’t fully process that he first turned around because you were changing until he’s already facing you again. Fortunately, you’ve finished, your skirt and top a pile on the floor. A boyfriend would probably pick those up too, Bradley thinks, so he makes a note to toss them in your laundry hamper.
“Here,” Bradley holds out the wet washcloth when he reaches you. You just blink up at him a couple times, an innocent expression on your face. He sighs deeply. “Fine. But you can’t whine if I do it too hard.”
Bradley grabs your chin as an anchor, lifting your head up as he starts wiping the cloth over your skin. Contrary to his words, Bradley does do his best to be gentle, tracing over your features with a lighter pressure than his large hands are used to. You practically melt into his palm as he does so, sitting patiently for him while he cleans your face. Despite his frustrations with you over the night, Bradley’s mind drifts to wondering if a drunk Makalya would be as cute as you’ve been.
“There,” Bradley’s voice has lost all its bite, his thumb discreetly brushing your jaw. It’s only for a second though and then he’s pulling away, turning around to put the wash cloth back with your other amenities.
“I knew it was Mickey’s cup.”
Your words cut through the silent dorm room and Bradley freezes. “I drank it on purpose.”
He knows that you’re drunk enough that you probably won’t remember anything that happened tonight, he could leave you now and you’d have no idea. But there’s something about you that just looks so small in your twin bed, curled up against the headboard as you pick at your duvet. He reasons to himself that, if he doesn’t get you to sleep, you’ll probably blab to Natasha when she gets back, so that’s why he can’t leave. Bradley swallows.
“Why’d you do that, sunshine?” He asks quietly.
You look up at him suddenly with wide eyes and hold your pinky out, scrambling to sit straighter. “You have to promise you won’t tell Giselle. Or Natasha. Or Mickey. Or—”
“How ‘bout,” Bradley cuts you off, wrapping his pinky around your own. He doesn’t entirely know why he’s entertaining this, but he lets himself sit next to you on your mattress anyway. “I just promise to not tell anyone?”
You nod slowly, before you go back to playing with your duvet. It’s quiet for several seconds.
“Sometimes I feel like I’m no fun.”
Bradley keeps his own eyes trained on your plaid and purple blanket. There’s a sudden air of vulnerability and he knows he should stop you because this seems like something you definitely wouldn’t want him to know in the morning. But he just can’t.
“Like— Like there’s something I’m not doing right and all my friends have to put up with it,” you continue, fingers tightening on the woven fabric of your blanket. “And maybe if I didn’t suck at meeting people, or talking to people, or whatever I’m doing wrong when it comes to guys then… then maybe Reuben and Giselle wouldn’t have to include me in everything. And Natasha wouldn’t have to keep ditching Mickey for me. And Bob wouldn’t have to be my pity friend at every party—”
You pause, reaching up to wipe your face and it’s then that Bradley realizes you’ve started crying. You let out a shaky breath.
“I am just so sick of listening to Jake talk about crypto.”
Bradley can’t stop the laugh that leaves his lips suddenly. Because you sound so distraught and he knows that you mean it, but it was genuinely the last thing he was expecting you to say. He knows that Makayla—or anyone for that matter—would call him a piece of shit for that though and he really wasn’t meaning to laugh at you. You just caught him off guard. Bradley clears his throat quickly to amend.
“You ever think that maybe they just like hanging out with you?” He offers.
You sniffle, your body slumping against Bradley’s side in exhaustion. “But I’m no fun at parties.”
Bradley hums, settling back on your headboard. “Well, that can’t be true,” he starts. “Tonight you were plenty of fun.”
“I’m serious, Bradley! I’m always so nervous and awkward around people— You literally didn’t know I could make a joke,” you look up at him flatly, a grumpy expression on your face.
Bradley grins, but it falters when your own expression falls again. 
“I just don’t want all my friends to start resenting me because I suck at being in college. What if I’m never gonna stop being a perpetual third wheel?”
“Well,” Bradley licks his lips, choosing his words carefully. “You could always find me, sunshine.” He points between the two of you as if to count. “No third wheeling here.”
Your cheek falls to his chest. “Really?” You ask weakly.
“I mean, you’ll have to deal with Jake. But I already tell him to shut the fuck up about crypto, so I think you’ll be good.”
It surprises Bradley when a watery giggle spills from your lips, your body shaking against his. Bradley’s heard you giggle before—many times, he reminds himself, since you’ve been in the background of his life since he was eight—but he had never been on the receiving end of your giggles. He was always merely a bystander.
And he doesn’t know why it bothered him so much that you never laughed or smiled at him—especially over these past few days. Well, he knows why it bothered him, it was because he was being nothing but nice to you and has more than earned at least a small smile. What he doesn’t know is why he cares so much that you didn’t. Bradley doesn’t entirely know what to think now that he’s finally made you laugh.
You’re low enough on the bed to rest your head on his chest and still your feet just barely make it past his mid-calf. Something stirs in Bradley at the thought, but he doesn’t linger on it. Instead, he tries to convince himself that if he just stays still and lets you lay on him, you’ll fall asleep faster and then he can go. And that’s also the reason he has for letting you play with his fingers when you reach for them.
“Hey, Bradley?” You ask after several minutes. He hums quietly. “Ask me to be your girlfriend.”
“No, baby,” Bradley shakes his head, the endearment slipping out without thought.
You sit up suddenly, eyes wide and glossy as you look at him in betrayal. “Why?” 
Bradley doesn’t exactly make a habit out of comforting girls, especially not drunk ones, or ones who are already crying. And currently you are checking all of those boxes. But growing up with a younger sister did teach him something. Bradley is capable of comforting people when he wants to—it’s just, most of the time, he doesn’t. 
Acting on straight instinct, Bradley gently coaxes you back to his chest, petting your head soothingly before you wake yourself up further and he has to settle you down all over again. “When you’re sober,” he promises.
Bradley refuses to acknowledge how long it took him to actually peel himself away from you after you fell asleep.
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I don’t have a taglist but feel free to follow my library @jupitercometgold​​ if you want to be notified when I post
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jyvnho · 2 years
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the fraternity and the sorority on campus have always coexisted in peace with one another, however, one fateful party changes everything… when a member of the fraternity of DELTA ZETA SIGMA steals a prized position from the sorority of KAPPA NU THETA, chaos and perhaps even romance ensues !
or
the new and fresh-faced fraternity boy falls for the second in command sorority girl during the war that's been declared between the greek organizations !
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. . . update schedule : every tuesday
. . . pairing : choi soobin x fem!reader
. . . warnings : alcohol, drinking, suggestive material, swearing (more to be added)
. . . genre : university!au, frat!au, sorority!au, comedy/romance/angst/fluff, somewhat e2l
. . . characters from : txt, nct, seventeen, ateez, the boyz, weki meki, billie, dreamcatcher, itzy, ive, (g)i-dle, everglow
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. . . chapters !
I. chapter one : pouty-lipped boy
II. chapter two : (coming soon)
III. chapter three : (coming soon)
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ceescedasticity · 3 years
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Crossover Classpect #idek+1
Riordanverse.
Okay, I have a roster for a nice reasonable session taking off taking off sometime in the first couple Trials of Apollo books, the Triumvirate pushes a button they shouldn't have, with a roster featuring Seven+Nico, Reyna, Thalia, Will, and Meg. But if I do write this, I will not be writing the reasonable version. I will be writing the unreasonable version, including MC and KC.
In fact I already have a prophecy for the unreasonable version:
Timers count, machines appear / Fate new-spun is already here / Stone stars will fall from alien skies / Twelve and twelve and twelve must rise
Twelve children of the wandering gods / Twelve touch two worlds despite the odds / Twelve their mortal life have ceded / Three games to win or all's defeated
For hope to return from the quest / Solve each puzzle, pass each test / For hope that home will still be there / Smash the veils the earth to spare
But what comes of it after game's end / Will on the choices of the gods depend
That's right, three twelve-person sessions, because... reasons. --Because I kept wanting not to leave out various people and then had to keep things balanced, actually.
Whose fault is it? Interesting question. But somebody or somebodies did it on purpose. It was distributed as a fun and innocuous game on purpose. Utgard-Loki was almost certainly involved. Prometheus was almost certainly involved. But it wasn't just them.
I have quite a few notes on entry sequence, and people who were planning to play together but the game wouldn't allow them to connect because they're in different sessions, and people who were not planning to play together but ended up connected, and people who were supposed to be unavailable but weren't.
First, Session Delta, the 'children of the wandering gods' -- living mortal demigods. (Samirah just retired from the Valkyries.)
Leo Valdez: Bard of Doom, Prospit, Land of Gimbals and Drums, Denizen Viné
Samirah al-Abbas: Sylph of Heart, Derse, Land of Truth and Feathers, Denizen Astaphanos
Alabaster Torrington: Prince of Hope, Derse, Land of Vanity and Bogs, Denizen Abraxas
Annabeth Chase: Seer of Space, Prospit, Land of Skeins and Frogs, Denizen Tiamat
Percy Jackson: Knight of Breath, Prospit, Land of Smoke and Sulfur, Denizen Yaldabaoth
Hazel Levesque: Rogue of Light, Prospit, Land of Ravines and Mirrors, Denizen Adonaios
Nico di Angelo: Mage of Void, Derse, Land of Amber and Gloom, Denizen Shax
Will Solace: Heir of Life, Derse, Land of Veldt and Verse, Denizen Iachtanabas
Piper McLean: Maid of Mind, Prospit, Land of Stone and Mirrors , Denizen Ariouth
Meg McCaffrey: Witch of Rage, Derse, Land of Vines and Angles, Denizen Sabaoth
Frank Zhang: Page of Blood, Prospit, Land of Fountains and Tactics, Denizen Iao
Hylla Ramirez-Arellano: Thief of Time, Derse, Land of Wheels and Sky, Denizen Nammu
Session Lambda, people who started out completely human or completely not human but are still mixed up with both worlds now.
Sadie Kane: Witch of Time, Derse, Land of Chords and Spindles, Denizen Amdusias
Blitzen: Prince of Void, Prospit, Land of Whirlpools and Waves, Denizen Shax
Hearthstone: Mage of Light, Prospit, Land of Chimes and Omens, Denizen Adonaios
Amir Fadlan: Rogue of Hope, Prospit, Land of Cliffs and Alpenhorns, Denizen Abraxas
Rachel Elizabeth Dare: Maid of Heart, Derse, Land of Astrology and Riddles, Denizen Astaphanos
Carter Kane: Heir of Blood, Derse, Land of Glyphs and Truth, Denizen Paraplex
Grover Underwood: Bard of Space, Prospit, Land of Twilight and Roots, Denizen Tiamat
Calypso: Seer of Rage, Prospit, Land of Veins and Manganese, Denizen Sabaoth
Zia Rashid: Knight of Mind, Derse, Land of Cisterns and Runoff, Denizen Asag
Shel: Sylph of Breath, Derse, Land of Fog and Dogwood, Denizen Pazuzu
Bast: Thief of Life, Derse, Land of Hemp and Artifice, Denizen Yaldabaoth
Tyson: Page of Doom, Prospit, Land of Drains and Ritual, Denizen Viné
Session Nu, people who one way or another aren't mortal anymore:
Alex Fierro: Rogue of Breath, Prospit, Land of Spruce and Lime, Denizen Pazuzu
Magnus Chase: Heir of Hope, Prospit, Land of Fjords and Bogs, Denizen Abraxas
Thomas Jefferson Jr.: Witch of Space, Prospit, Land of Hills and Frogs, Denizen Tiamat
Halfborn Gunderson: Bard of Life, Prospit, Land of Blood and Skulls, Denizen Zariz
Thalia Grace: Maid of Rage, Derse, Land of Miasma and Stress, Denizen Sabaoth
Bianca di Angelo: Sylph of Doom, Prospit, Land of Glass and Chasms, Denizen Viné
Zoë Nightshade: Seer of Light, Derse, Land of Gold and Scandium, Denizen Horaios
Reyna Ramirez-Arellano: Mage of Mind, Derse, Land of Quests and Sleet, Denizen Ariouth
Mallory Keen: Page of Void, Propsit, Land of Cenotes and Echoes, Denizen Shax
Jason Grace: Knight of Heart, Derse, Land of Blades and Stepwells, Denizen Iao
Walt Stone: Prince of Time, Derse, Land of Sun and Cinnabar, Denizen Amdusias
Luke Castellan: Thief of Blood, Derse, Land of Foxglove and Atria, Denizen Yaldabaoth
And I have some things which would be chapter titles, if this mess were the epic it clearly wants to be:
δ: We Are Lulled Into a False Sense of Security
λ: The Heir of Blood is Unnecessarily Alarmed
ν: Our Plans Fall Through
δ: The Seer of Space Multitasks
λ: The Heir of Blood is Very Reasonably Alarmed
ν: The Heir of Hope is Worst At Computer Games
δ: The Oracle Issues a Quest to the Maid of Heart
δ: We Lose Our Security Deposit
δ: We Just Call It Cousins
λ: We Are Not Offered Bows Or Axes
ν: It Was Made For Those Who Are Dead, Plus Those Two. Three. Two and a Half?
δ: Correction: The Rogue of Light is Worst At Computer Games
λ: Update: The Thief of Life is Worst At Computer Games
δ: The Maid of Mind Returns From the DMV
ν: The Prince of Time Makes a Call
ν: Breaking News: The Thief of Blood is Worst At Computer Games
and many more. Whew. Didn't even include the entry notes. Maybe later.
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edie-k · 3 years
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Legally Ginger - Prologue (PG-13, Romione)
Now, for something totally different...
Title: Legally Ginger
Chapter 1/9
Rating: PG-13 (I use fuck more than the MPAA allows for PG-13 but that's a stupid rule - there's no explicit content)
Pairing: Romione endgame
Summary: When Ron Weasley's college girlfriend declines his proposal because he doesn't meet her standard for future husband, he decides comes up with a plan to let her see him in a new light.
Notes: This is an AU Muggle reimagination of Legally Blonde. It's very different than anything I have ever written - and my first chapter story. I intend to update each Monday.
Thank you to adnei for all of her beta feedback!
While I really enjoy Legally Blonde, it has some things that need a bit of updating or calling out in the year 2021. This fic will attempt to do those things but not lose the fun and fluffiness of the concept.
Also... I love the pop culture/time capsule references of the movie so plan to see that same vibe in this fic. If any of them are unclear to you, let me know in the comments because I love to talk pop culture!
Finally, lots of our favorites are scheduled to appear throughout the story - I eagerly anticipate all guesses as to who will be who!
Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter or Legally Blonde or any of their characters are owned by me and are not being used for profit.
Link to AO3 or click below to read more.
“Hey Tim!” Ron Weasley shouted, raising his hand to greet the guy behind the coffee cart but not breaking his stride.
“Hey Ron! Thanks for that recommendation. She loved it!”
Ron grinned and kept on running his recreational route that wove through the Los Angeles campus of California University. Even though his cross country career had come to an end with the conclusion of his senior season this fall, he didn’t intend to let his personal records slip. In fact, he was almost working harder. If everything went according to plan tonight, he planned to be competing in the iconic Boston Marathon next April.
“Ron! We still on to study tomorrow?” shouted his chem lab partner Kelsey as he strode past her.
“Yep! We’re going to rock that test out!”
“Hi Ron!” he heard a few female voices chorus together as he passed the Zeta Beta house. Several girls were doing yoga out on the front lawn.
“Great form ladies!” he yelled back, grinning as he heard the giggles.
He grabbed his shirt to wipe his forehead and glanced at his watch. 4:30. He was approaching the house and he had time to do some cool down stretches, shower, check that they had enough brothers to cover the Animal Aid fundraiser tomorrow, send his Econ professor his problem set, and dress for dinner before he had to leave for the Delta Nu house.
He slowed to a jog as his feet hit the driveway. He took the porch steps two at a time before entering the house. Immediately, he was greeted by a snort.
“Pig! Good boy,” he greeted, scratching the pug behind his ears.
“Come on boy,” he said, starting up the house stairs to his room, Pig following dutifully behind. As president, he lucked out with his own room with an en-suite bathroom but as was typical for his life, it wasn’t empty.
“Hey brother brother!” two voices said.
Ron rolled his eyes at the twins. “That joke will never be funny.” Fred and George grinned, one sprawled on his bed and one in his desk chair.
“We just have this last semester to even make the joke. Afterwards, it’ll be pathetic,” Fred said.
“That 40k is so close I can taste it,” said George.
His twin brothers were two years older than him, however, they’d dropped out after their sophomore year to open a retail shop selling joke and novelty items. They quickly realized they were more interested in conducting their own research and development; manufacturing their own products to distribute and sell. It was certainly more profitable. In order to get the seed money, they returned to college after two years. Their schooling, like Ron’s, was financed by his Aunt Muriel and upon receiving their bachelors degree, Muriel also handed over a $20,000 cash gift. The crotchety old broad put a lot of value on their schooling.
“And little Ronniekins is going to spend his on a girl,” Fred teased. It was then that he noticed Fred was fiddling with the small gray ring box that had previously been hidden in Ron’s sock drawer. He moved to snatch it back but Fred tossed it across the room to George.
Ron frowned. “First, I’m not spending it all on a girl. Part of it will be for the wedding and the rest I’ll save for a down payment on a house. Maybe not in Boston because we may not stay there after she finishes law school.”
“Oh yes, Bah-stan,” George mocked in a truly terrible accent.
“Yes. She’s sure that it’ll happen. She’s a legacy or something like that. I hope so because I think Boston Beer Company is going to make me an offer.”
“Free Sam Adams? I’ll take it,” Fred nodded.
“Secondly,” said Ron. “She’s not just a girl.”
The twins groaned. “Ugh, Ronnie, there’s no free beer yet. I can’t listen to this sober.”
Ron rolled his eyes.
“I have to ask,” started George. “Are you sure about this? You’re so young and it hasn’t been that long. You could still go to Boston with her without getting engaged.”
While it was annoying to get another “you’re too young” speech, it wasn’t often that his brothers asked him a serious question. “I’m sure. She’s the one.”
“Well then,” said George, flipping the box to him. “Go get her.”
A few hours later, he was shifting nervously in his seat at their table at Chaudron Qui Fuitfont, playing with the same gray ring box in his pocket. The dinner course had been cleared and they were now waiting for dessert to arrive as well as the bottle of champagne he’d surreptitiously requested.
“Astoria, have I told you that you look absolutely breathtaking tonight?”
“Just three or four times,” she laughed.
“Well, I might tell you a few more,” Ron said.
“It’s not everyday that you put so much effort into a date. I had to deliver on my side as well,” Astoria replied.
“It’s appreciated,” Ron smiled. “I-I appreciate everything about you. How gorgeous you are, how driven… the past 18 months with you has really made me sit down and focus on what I want for my future, you know?”
“That’s great, Ron,” Astoria said, reaching across the table to give his hand a squeeze. She glanced around him. “I want another glass of Merlot.”
“Yeah. You know I’m in the final stages for jobs at three companies,” he said.
“Mmm,” she said distractedly.
“Including Boston Beer Company,” he added.
“That’s a reputable company. Although make sure the job isn’t on the Truly brand. They’ll never get the market from White Claw. Mark my words, they’ll fizzle in two years.”
“Astoria, I see my future with you.”
She looked up at him sharply. “What?”
“Yes. I love you. I’m ready to start the next stage of our relationship. Astoria - ” Ron stood up, pulling the ring box out.
“No.”
“Will you marry me?” Ron asked, kneeling next to her.
“No, now get up.”
Ron’s blood suddenly ran cold. “Wha-what?”
“I said, no, now sit down.” He numbly followed her direction.
“Ron,” Astoria sighed. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry.”
“But… why?”
Astoria gave him a pitying look. “Look, we have had so much fun. You’re a great guy.”
“Great guy? You told me you loved me,” he hissed, trying to keep his voice low to avoid more embarrassment.
“And I do. As a college boyfriend. You are a great college boyfriend. You’re president of the second best fraternity on campus so you get all the best party invites. You’re on the cross country team so I can tell everyone I’m dating a Division I athlete, but you aren’t in one of those sports where it like, takes up all your time. You had a cool internship, everybody on campus loves you because you volunteer and help and you’re nice to everyone, even the janitors. You’re sweet and you’ve got a great body and you… you know,” she dropped her voice now “always deliver on what’s promised. You’ve been the perfect person to spend the last few semesters with.”
“I… I don’t understand what the problem is. I sound great from what you’re saying,” Ron seethed, frustration clear in his tone.
“I need a man for the next part of my life. Not a frat boy, not even if he doesn’t exactly fit the stereotype. I’m going to Harvard Law School in the fall. Do you understand how big of a deal that is?”
“Yes! That’s why I am pursuing a job in Boston. To be with you.”
“At a beer company.”
“I’m not opening a bar with my buddies. It’s a research and development role at a major corporation!”
“You have a degree in food science,” Astoria replied, rolling her eyes.
“It’s not like we spend all our time eating. It’s a real field. I got an A in Organic Chemistry.”
“Org Chem with Murphy. The serious students take it with Professor Kettle.”
Ron just gaped at her.
“If I’m going to be a federal judge by the time I’m 40, I need to stop dicking around. And I’m sorry, you’re not a Marty Ginsberg.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not an Armie Hammer either. Feels like there’s some wiggle room between those two extremes.”
“You’re a great guy. And I’m sure you’ll be a great husband to a marketing specialist or a pharmaceutical sales rep. And maybe if I was going to go to Wayne State or Northwestern, things would be different. But this is Harvard Law. There are just… expectations that any potential spouse meet a certain intellectual bar. Or at least a social bar. I mean, my sister is engaged to a Kennedy!”
At that point, the waiter approached the table with their desserts. Astoria stood up. “I’m really sorry. I’ll just call an Uber.” She paused and kissed him on the cheek before exiting the dining room.
“Uh, should I wrap these to go?” asked the waiter as Ron watched Astoria leave.
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