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retrievablememories · 8 months

Text

cherry bomb | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: “get fucked or die” becomes the motto to live by when a serial killer begins targeting virgins on your campus.

genre: smut, horror/slasher, college!au

word count: 7.1k

warnings: multiple minor character deaths, blood, gore, violence (including gun and knife use), mentions of alcohol consumption. virgin-shaming and slut-shaming, oral (fem receiving), riding, virgin!reader, first-time sex, protected sex, hair-pulling, biting, fingering, dirty talk, virgin kink/corruption kink, fuckboy JK. is JK a sub or a masochist here? answer: i don’t fucking know!

a/n: inspired by the movie cherry falls (2000). heed the warnings. remember that this is fiction, not meant to be entirely realistic, and characters' views/actions don't represent my own. if this kind of content is not up your alley just block me or make use of the wonderful filtering option in your account settings

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 2

CHERRY BOMB

don't wanna die? come out and hook up with a sexy girl or guy.

virgins get in free!

THIS FRIDAY

NOV 3, 20XX

[address here]

"very corny." you shake your head, looking at the party flyer in your hands. you'd just torn it down from the bulletin board in your dorm lobby; unauthorized advertisements aren’t allowed, and your job as RA involves these menial-ass tasks. "this is literally life or death...why are they turning it into a joke?"

"it is a joke," your friend camille says, snatching the flyer out of your hands to look it over. "think about it. 10 students get killed since we came back in august, and the semester isn't even over yet. the school administration and local police haven't done nearly enough to address it or stop any more deaths. and the common denominator is that all these people were suspected or confirmed virgins?” you haven’t seen the evidence yourself, but the daughter of one of the local policemen claimed every victim also had virgin carved into some part of their dead body. “yeah, i'd say it's a joke to pretty much everyone at this point. this is what happens when you let the students come up with a solution."

camille hands the flyer back to you, and you hold it limply. "but...it's not like you can look at someone and tell if they're a virgin. the killer must've known them all personally. it just doesn't make sense."

"some of those people had no mutual friends. nothing connecting them whatsoever. not even shared extracurriculars. it's gotta be a perverted stalker with a fetish, maybe. a scorned hacker who somehow got into their private conversations 'n' shit? or maybe he consulted the cards to know who’d fucked before and who hadn’t.”

“oh please.” you scoff. “now you’re being completely ridiculous. tarot cards aren’t gonna tell you if someone’s a virgin or not.”

“then you come up with a better explanation. either way, these folks—" camille points to the flyer "—aren't taking their chances."

"hm..." you keep staring at the flyer, looking at the shiny-red cherries, condoms, sex toys, and other sex-related objects decorating the paper. whoever designed this really wasn't playing.

"so, are you gonna go?" camille asks with a sidelong glance. "free admittance, after all."

your neck burns under the collar of your shirt. "are you?" neither of you have had sex yet, for differing reasons. camille's reason was almost complete indifference to the whole act.

she gives you a look that says i could give a shit. "...you know the answer to that one, dear. so you're not even thinking about it? as much as you have cried to me and lorelai about not being able to find a man you like enough to give it up for, our killer here probably already knows. you practically have a ‘come kill me’ bullseye on your back.”

"i don't know," you say, because you genuinely are thinking about it. “and stop trying to fucking scare me.” despite your logical brain trying to reason with you, you still feel a sense of underlying terror about being the next victim. "the virgin killer," as they'd nicknamed the freak, clearly prefers a specific type of victim, and all kills have been random and unpredictable other than that—and the fact that every victim attended your university. he also seems partial to using a knife on his victims, but even that isn’t guaranteed—3 of the 10 had been killed in ways other than stabbing. "i don’t know why you’re so nonchalant about this, though."

camille shrugs. "if he comes for me, i'll just spray him with my illegal mace and kick his nuts into his throat. then tie him up and wait for my dad to come blow his head off. there are some advantages to having a gun nut for a dad."

you chuckle at the absurdity of it. "you've got it all planned out, then."

FRIDAY, NOV 3

taking a rideshare to the party was a smart idea on lorelai's part, because the two little shots you took to pre-game already have you feeling woozy. or maybe it's just your nerves.

the cherry bomb is located at a mansion that isn’t really a mansion, but a large once-abandoned house one of the fraternities fixed up years ago for throwing off-campus parties.

the party is stacked wall to wall with people when you enter, though from what you can see, no one has actually started fucking yet—maybe they're saving that for the supposed orgy later in the night. you just hope you can get someone in one of the backrooms before that happens, because you're not really keen on having everyone in your class knowing what your tits look like.

you have one simple mission here tonight—lose your long-held virginity and get off the virgin killer's radar. once that's done, you'll make your exit.

"actually, i'm surprised anyone else showed up. other than you, who wants to willingly admit that they're still a virgin in college?" lorelai shudders. you roll your eyes and try not to feel offended, sucking your teeth.

"you were more than welcome to stay back at the dorm."

"no! i'm here for moral support, plus i don't want to be alone tonight. i don't care who this killer targets, it's getting too crazy out here to just be letting your guard down anymore."

well, you won't argue that.

you and lorelai dance to the song booming over the multiple speakers, scanning the room for potential hookups all the while. you become more alert when you recognize a familiar length of black hair coming through the front door, plus the tattoos and piercings to match.

you're not surprised jungkook came. he has his pick of untouched and easily corruptible virgins here, which has always been his thing; you've heard him brag about it to his seatmates more than once in your shared elective. not to mention the stories you've heard from the women who actually fucked him. as far as you could figure, it was the usual male ego posturing bullshit about being able to say he was someone’s first—and likely best. for that reason, alarm rises when he makes eye contact and starts making a beeline for where you and lorelai are.

"oh, here comes the campus bicycle," lorelai says, voice deadpan.

you continue watching him from the corner of your eye, trying to see if he's just approaching someone in your general vicinity, but no. once he shoves his way through the crowd of dancers, some unashamedly groping at his body as he does, he stops right in front of you two.

"so, are you here for the same reason i am?" he asks you, grinning like the devil himself. "or are you looking to get that sweet little cherry popped?"

the backs of your knees sweat. "um—latter, i guess." you hadn't meant to answer that honestly, but to say you are caught off-guard is understating it. you can count on one hand the number of times you and jungkook have talked to each other in class, and never about anything of this nature.

"you're not gonna ask me?" lorelai says.

jungkook gives a hearty laugh; you didn't think it was that funny. "everyone knows you're not a virgin, why waste my time?"

"wow, okay. fuck you. you're no saint yourself." she huffs.

"anyway…" jungkook returns his attention to you. "have you really never done anything before? not even sucked a dick? there's no way someone hasn't tried to hit that. not even some 'backdoor action only' like those weird religious girls?"

"is that any of your business? i didn't know we had to give a rundown of our lack of sexual experience before getting laid around here." you snap.

jungkook's eyelids lower a fraction. "i'm tryna decide how easy i should go on you, babe. i mean, if you wanna take this in one of the rooms. otherwise, i'll let someone else have a go if you're not interested."

unfortunately, you are interested, despite his overly blunt manner and objectifying language. even though you know you’ll just become another entry on his long list of flings—someone he’ll tell his boys about later—maybe the fear of death is making you impulsive.

but maybe his looks are playing a part in it, too.

he's imposing with his physique and his all-black attire, his shirt so tight that you can clearly see his pectoral muscles and his nipples, his unbuttoned leather jacket doing nothing to hide those details. you can easily imagine yourself running your hands across those pecs, squeezing them, rubbing your fingers against his nipples and making him moan underneath you, feeling and seeing his abs contract through this stupid-ass shirt that must've been painted on. this brief fantasy immediately dampens your panties.

"…i'm interested," you affirm, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes, and he smirks from knowing you were obviously checking him out.

knowing the direction this is going in, lorelai taps you on the back and whispers in your ear. “have fun but don’t do anything stupid, yeah? i’m not playing auntie to any offspring you and this dude pop out, sis. use protection.” then she makes her exit to go find herself a partner for the night.

“so, come on.” jungkook nods his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow him through the crowd as he leads you up the winding staircase. you squeeze past two girls kissing on the staircase railing, their motions a bit unsure as if they’ve never done it before but clearly still enjoying themselves.

jungkook pushes a few doors in until he finds an empty room, and you try not to ogle at the random couples you see along the way. not even an hour in and the two shots must be wearing off, because your body is beginning to buzz with nervousness again.

jungkook closes the door behind him when you both step into the room, which is lit by one lamp on a nightstand and the open window beside the bed. he reaches for you, and you shiver when his hand grasps the side of your face, the other snaking around your waist.

“scared?” he asks, his voice low. you shake your head, and he grins. “relax.” he leans in as if to kiss you and you part your lips, but he doesn’t do that just yet. he traces your top lip and then your bottom lip with his tongue, dipping it into your mouth as he switches. the teasing nature of his actions makes your body heat up as you watch a string of saliva spread and then break between the both of you.

he presses back in for a real kiss this time, his nose bumping yours. despite all your fears about tonight, you’re able to unwind somewhat and just focus on the full sensory experience that is this kiss—the warmth of his hands and his mouth, the sappy sound your lips make when they separate and come back together, the scent of his cologne, the taste of his spearmint-flavored tongue.

you find yourselves inching toward the bed, him walking you backwards while keeping you steady. just as the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, there's the sound of a woman's bloodcurdling scream from behind you, and you nearly shove jungkook to the ground in your haste to run to the door. your fingers are scrabbling at the doorknob when you hear a burst of laughter. a guy you don't recognize crawls out from under the bed holding his phone up, displaying a youtube video of the shower scene in the movie psycho, which is where the noise is coming from.

"that was funny as fuck." the guy laughs obnoxiously loud, holding his stomach. “don’t get too carefree or you just might die, girlie.”

jungkook grabs the guy by his jacket collar like he's a kid and throws him out the door; the guy doesn't object because he knows this is preferable to getting his ass beaten by the bigger man. "fuck outta here, you jackass." jungkook snaps.

jungkook stomps over to the closet to yank it open. "any more idiots in here wanna show themselves?" he checks a couple more areas before deciding the room is clear and closing the door again, locking it for good measure.

“okay.” he sighs, stripping off his jacket and shoes. he takes your hand and pulls you toward him as he sits on the bed. “relax, baby. forget about that fucking clown. come ‘ere. why don’t you sit on my lap?”

with a heavy exhale, you try to steady your still-shaking hands as you shuck your boots off and pull your dress up slightly to comfortably sit in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist.

he squeezes your waist. “so, where were we? i don’t really remember…”

you huff out a half-amused laugh. “really? i’m pretty sure it was this…” you lean forward with your hands on his shoulders and press your lips back onto his. jungkook follows in kind, his hands running up from your thighs to your waist and back again. the rhythm of his hands is hypnotic, distracting you as you try to keep most of your focus on the kiss, and you fear you may be getting overstimulated before anything has truly began.

as you continue kissing, jungkook’s hands creep your dress further up your thighs until your panties are revealed. still feeling up your legs, his hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear. they have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk, though it makes you roll your eyes.

jungkook whispers against your lips, “let’s try something. will you sit on my face?” you stare at him without a word, not expecting this to be the first thing he proposes. at your response, or lack of, he adds, “i want to make you feel good. do you want me to taste you?” his voice is so soft, so unassuming and cloying, that it makes you feel like a lamb clutched gently in the mouth of a wolf.

your brain is already surrendering to it. “yes.”

you get another kiss and a smile. jungkook moves you out of his lap, shuffles further up the bed, and lies down so that he’s flat on his back, his head surrounded by the pillows. he gestures for you to follow.

taking your time, you slide your panties off and crawl up the bed until you’re near his face and he’s lying below you looking like he’s struck gold. he grabs your hips to bring you closer until you’re right over his mouth. you’re embarrassed to have someone looking at you from this angle for the first time, and you’re about to get too into your head about it when he french kisses your inner thigh, blanking out your mind.

the only thing you know from then on is that his mouth is burning hot. his tongue is everywhere. he licks at you delicately to test the waters, and then more firmly when your thighs tremble around his head, in an effort to elicit the same response.

the way he fits his mouth over your entire pussy and sucks it with just the right amount of pressure so that it won’t hurt makes you feel faint. the way he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit only to suck it gently at the end of the stroke makes you cry out louder than you intended. you’re glad he moved further up the bed for this, because you’re holding onto the headboard for dear life.

the only things you’re aware of are your own out-of-control moans and the wet sounds of jungkook’s mouth working you over. all of it has you so overwrought that you’re already reaching your peak, your grip on the headboard weakening.

jungkook seems to know this without you telling him anything. he pauses and looks up at you with a fucked-out smirk and a wet mouth. you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for giving you a break. “before you come, fuck my face.”

“wh-what?”

“rub that wet fucking cunt on my face.” heat flares through your body at his frank words. “grab my hair and just ride my face.” he reaches up to take your hands off the headboard and places them in his hair. “you can do it, baby. fucking use me.”

it takes you a minute to get over the fresh wave of embarrassment and find a pace that works, because the connection between your brain and body feels like it’s frying and your coordination is off. jungkook helps guide your hips, especially with how you’re trembling from pleasure and close to falling apart. soon enough, you’re letting go of yourself and moving your hips enthusiastically, if a little clumsily, and chasing your climax. you savor the feel of your clit sliding across his wet tongue and his soft hair in between your fingers, and you push his head as close as it can get.

you come while screaming, dizzyingly immersed in the pleasure. you forget that you’re holding his hair as you yank roughly on it. the only thing that matters to you is that jungkook’s mouth is still sucking your clit through the best physical sensation you’ve ever experienced.

when he finally lets go and gives you reprieve, you collapse beside him on the pillows.

“i’m sorry,” you mumble, disoriented. “about your hair, i mean?”

jungkook laughs. it’s funny how shiny-wet his face is—and that you caused it, which is kind of hard to believe in the aftermath of it. “the pain is what gets my dick hard. don’t worry.”

you chuckle breathlessly at that, and for a few seconds you both have that funny little moment to yourselves in all the ridiculousness of the overarching situation.

then jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. “i’m not done with that pussy yet, though.” he brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. he slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance, until you’re shifting your hips closer to him to implore him for more. he grants your request by sliding his finger all the way inside.

having a finger inside you feels okay at first, though not as good as his actions a few seconds ago. jungkook decides to amplify your pleasure by placing his lips on your neck, leaving gentle and wet kisses behind, and you become all too aware of the feeling of your hardened nipples against the material of your dress. the pleasure begins to heighten when his finger finds a place inside of you that makes you throb, your walls clenching around him.

“ah…” you gasp and shift eagerly against his body as he keeps stimulating that spot, not thrusting his finger into you but simply stroking it across that area in a come here motion.

jungkook pulls away from your neck to smile at his handiwork. “that’s better, right?” he whispers, watching your reactions. your lips form around the word yes, though it’s difficult to try to speak, and you worry how unsteady your voice might sound. he waits until you’re clutching at his arm, leaving red lines on his skin from your fingernails, to carefully push another finger in beside the first. you try to breathe evenly, though his refusal to let up on that spot has your lungs stuttering for air all over again. his nose nudges your ear as he leans even closer and whispers, “there are so many different spots to find, so many different ways to make you come; i wanna go looking for them all.”

jungkook angles his hand so that his palm is also stimulating your clit, his fingers thrusting slowly now. you turn your head away from him as your body becomes ablaze, unsure what to do with yourself as your climax nears quickly.

“would you let me do that? learn your body like no one else has done?” he kisses the shell of your ear, and even that small action is enough to tip you closer to the edge with how your body is already so fired up. “who else could make you feel as good?”

this orgasm makes your eyes fill with involuntary tears, and little clear droplets bleed down the sides of your face and towards your ears as your body convulses. jungkook kisses the wet trails they make on your face, still fingering you steadily and forcing another urgent cry out of you. you feel untethered from yourself, like you’re not in control of your reactions, and you don’t know whether to be afraid of that or not.

jungkook pulls his fingers out when you have mostly calmed down, watching strands of your wetness drip between them before sliding them into his mouth.

after you come the second time, you begin to tire. the deeds have been done, and if you want, you can confidently go back out to the party now and say you’re no longer a virgin; you’re off the unofficial kill list and can live the rest of your days without having to look over your shoulder with every breath.

…but jungkook is hard against your hip, and in all honesty, you don’t want to leave without knowing what his dick looks and feels like.

“you tired?” he asks, and the casual air of it makes your stomach flip, for some reason. he says it as if this is something you two do all the time and he’s used to asking you this after wearing you out during a good session.

but now’s not the time to get delusional.

“no. i want more.”

jungkook smiles broadly, teasing his lip ring with his teeth. he sits up to peel that skin-tight shirt off, and you don’t bother to stop yourself from staring at all that skin in front of you. your eyes drop further down when he removes his belt and undoes his jeans, pushing his pants and underwear down enough for you to see his v-line but not taking them off. is that an invitation for you to do it? "you hold the reins here," he says, lying back on the bed again. "do whatever you want to me."

“whatever i want?” you repeat, already sitting up. he nods, hands behind his head, and you take the initiative to straddle him again, knowing you’re getting his jeans wet.

you reach for his pecs first, just like you’d imagined downstairs. the firm muscle of them is mesmerizing; but when you slowly circle your thumb against his nipple and his eyes flutter, a small and breathy moan escaping his lips, you’re sure you enjoy this much more.

you play with his nipples and even work up the boldness to purse your lips around one, sucking it softly, and every noise that arises from him makes your clit tingle.

you eventually move your hands to his abs, enjoying how they flex at your touch. you didn't think his navel would be pierced, not hearing that detail in any of the sex tales you've eavesdropped on about jungkook, and you wonder what else you might find out about him tonight.

“you should do your nipples to match.” you suggest it without much thought as you’re teasing his navel piercing, though you don’t regret saying it.

“would you be into that?” jungkook sounds like he’s actually considering it, watching you from below his lashes.

you grin. you don’t know if you’ll actually end up having sex with him again to see them, but you answer, “i’d love it…it’d be sexy on you.”

sliding your hands further down still, you come to the waistband of his underwear, which is peeking over the top of his lowered jeans. for a second the nervousness returns; jungkook notices how your hands twitch with hesitation. “it’s fine, i’m not gonna bite you…unless you ask me to, though. here.”

he slips a hand into his underwear and grips his dick, though he doesn’t take it out right away; he strokes the shaft a few times, observing your reaction with expectant and hazy eyes. the scene before you makes your mouth dry. jungkook quickens his pace, twisting his hand at the tip and using his own precum as lube, until you are overcome with the desire to see it and you pull his underwear out of the way.

his cock is thick and flushed and glossy with precum. you don’t have much to compare it to, but it’s a good size, and all the previous women have said that he clearly knows what to do with it. he releases it and it slaps against his abs, leaving a streak of precum behind. when you look at him in anticipation of what he’ll do next, he grasps it again and starts stroking himself quickly, like he’s trying to get off. the wet slap of his motions and his quiet groans make your walls clench.

“i could keep fucking myself and you could watch, since you seem to prefer it…” he murmurs.

“no, i—let’s go all the way.”

jungkook smirks and answers your decision by pulling a condom out of his jean pocket. you watch as he unwraps it and slips it down his cock. though you’re already straddling him, he grasps your wrist and encourages you to draw nearer to him. “come here, pretty thing.”

when you’re hovering directly over him, jungkook grips the base and teases his tip against your entrance. “ready?” he asks.

“yeah,” you say breathlessly.

it’s a little slow-going, but you eventually end up with him seated inside you. it’s uncomfortable to be taking something bigger than a couple fingers, but it isn’t terribly painful.

“now, try moving your hips like this…” with his hands on your hips, jungkook helps you grind against him so that your clit slides across his pubic bone with every move. the discomfort begins to ebb out of your mind after a little while of doing this, and you laugh quietly.

“i thought…i thought this doesn’t feel good for men,” you sigh, your eyes closing from the bliss of his firm abdomen stimulating your clit. “this grinding thing, you know. or so a friend told me…”

jungkook laughs too, but he doesn’t confirm it like you expect him to. his only answer is, “a sexy woman on my dick will always feel good.”

he seems to be more about showing than telling, anyway. his hands reach for your breasts, groping them over the fabric of your dress before sliding underneath for better access. sporadic moans escape you as he plays with your nipples, making your clit throb harder and sending more warmth pooling in your abdomen.

your breath wheezes out of you when jungkook starts pushing up into you, his hands still squeezing your breasts. “you’re okay, baby…” he tries a few different angles until he pulls a visceral reaction out of you, your walls fluttering around him and your body shivering intensely. “mmm, there it is.”

your motions start tapering off as jungkook continues thrusting up against that same spot that had you in tears earlier. noticing this, he slips one hand back down to your hip and encourages you to maintain your pace, keeping your clit stimulated while meeting his thrusts. “you’re doing good…” he murmurs. “go ahead, keep fucking me just like that.”

you’re glad lorelai makes you go to the campus gym with her every week, because otherwise you’d be about to collapse riding him for this long. it takes more of your strength and stamina than you’d expected. no wonder jungkook stays in the gym.

“oh, fuck…” the way all his muscles flex as he repeatedly pushes up into you makes you wetter; you no longer have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about the gushy noises your pussy is creating. your whole world has whittled down to this one room, and all you can think about is your next orgasm.

“pull my hair again,” he requests, his eyes dark and lost in lust when he looks up at you.

"jungkook..." you grip his sweaty hair in your hand and pull it to bare his throat, and he gives a desperate moan, his member jerking inside you. you've never felt so in control of a situation before in your life. it gives you a straight adrenaline-slash-dopamine rush.

his neck is just there and exposed, flushed from exertion, and his physical responses make you feel so primal, like you could do absolutely anything to him right now and he’d enjoy it. because of this, you decide to bite his neck, if only to give your mouth something to do. his dick twitches again when you do, another pretty moan leaving his mouth.

his voice is strained when he says, “bite me harder.” when you let go, your mouth travels the expanse of his neck to leave marks in a few other places, digging in harder just as he asked of you.

“fuck, y/n—” the pain of your teeth is pushing him close to the edge too soon, so he slips his other hand out from under your dress and brings it lower to circle his fingers over your clit. jungkook adding his experienced fingers to his constant stimulation of your g-spot is enough to cause your release. your body slumps onto his as you squeeze around him, your head falling into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and your eyes shutting so tightly that you see wobbling shapes in the darkness.

jungkook gives you a few more thrusts rougher than the rest, causing you to cry out. your climax and the aftershocks have your mind so dizzy that you only just realize that he’s reaching his own peak, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he fills the condom with his cum. you hear him groan next to your ear, the sound of it filthy and uninhibited.

jungkook lifts your head from his shoulder, his thumbs on your cheeks, and his lips meet yours in a final slow kiss, his teeth leaving their mark on your bottom lip as a parting reminder.

you're still trying to get your bearings and slide him out of you when jungkook suddenly says, "what is that noise?"

"huh?" you remain immobile for a moment so you can listen more clearly, and you recognize the sounds of screaming and feet pounding on the floors in a bid to run away—both upstairs and downstairs. these don't sound like the same screams of pleasure from earlier. "what the hell?"

you and jungkook scramble to collect your clothes and get dressed, thankful that neither of you stripped down completely, and he throws the used condom into a random corner of the room. you're still making last minute adjustments when jungkook stands up and unlocks the door.

"the fuck is—?" his voice cuts off as if he can't finish his thought.

"what? what is it?" you stand up to get a better view around his body in the doorway, and you scream when you see a lone blonde girl lying a few feet away from the door, slumped against the opposite wall with a slashed throat. her pink party dress bleeds red, and her face that catches the illumination of the string lights glints with tear tracks. you look away from her unseeing eyes before you can cry out again.

jungkook seems confused, peering down the other end of the hallway like there'll be someone there to explain. "it...didn't work?" he asks to no one in particular, as you have no answer. you walk farther back into the room as if putting more distance between you and the body will provide some protection. bumping against the window sill, you turn around to look out the window and see several cars peeling out of the makeshift grass parking lot, nearly running over other people or hitting other cars on the way. you release a stifled scream from behind your hands when someone is too disoriented to get out of the way of the speeding cars and is sent flying through the air before landing painfully, their body now unmoving. the offending car never stops to check on them.

the screaming downstairs worsens, countless voices rising to a fever pitch of shouting and wailing, and you imagine this must be what the pits of hell sound like. jungkook whips around to look at you. “we gotta get the fuck out of here.”

you two inch out of the room with him in the lead, peering into jarred-open doorways to see if anybody could be waiting in the shadows. there are a couple of other bodies in two other rooms, and you wonder—even with the loud music constantly reverberating through the house, did you really not hear the struggles that led to these deaths in your throes of passion? the thought unnerves you. the idea that maybe you were only saved by jungkook deciding to lock the door…

the stair railing you’d walked by an hour ago is now broken in the middle, splinters of wood lying scattered on the stairs, along with more bodies lying on the steps just as haphazardly. the scene looks like the remnants of a stampede; you hope most of these people are just unconscious and not dead.

the dancefloor is a swarm of people in various states of undress pushing and pulling each other as they rush for the exit. there’s not as many people heading for the back door, everyone attempting to squeeze through the main entrance in their unthinking panic, so jungkook grabs your arm and the two of you pick your way through the bodies to get down the stairs as best you can. when you enter the mass of people, you’re exceptionally glad for his strength because it’s easier to get through the opposing crowd.

to reach the back door, you must first get through the kitchen. beside the kitchen entrance in a dark corner, you see someone doubled over and grasping the person in front of them for stability.

you realize belatedly that they have a knife in their stomach; the other person standing over them is the virgin killer himself, calmly watching them suffer.

the killer’s face is hidden by the mask he always wears, which you are seeing for the first time now, up-close—a hairy werewolf head with lemon-yellow eyes and a candy-red tongue. it’s so unexpected that you would’ve found it comedic if not for the context.

a guy in a blue sweater grasps the killer from behind in an attempted surprise attack, causing him to jerk the knife out of the other person’s stomach. the sudden movement causes a spray of blood to come flying off the knife, and you have to hold back vomit when drops of the warm, stinking crimson hit your face. though it feels like time has slowed to a mere creep, all of this happens within seconds.

you don’t see much more before jungkook is forcing you to move again.

you, jungkook, and multiple others barrel out of the back patio door, nearly ripping the flimsy screen door off its hinges in your haste, while the classmate in the blue sweater fruitlessly struggles with the killer in the kitchen. your leg muscles flex harder when you hear the person's agonized shout and the mushy rip of flesh being torn seconds later. almost everyone else has taken the same idea to run for their lives rather than stay and try to fight or disarm the killer; the streets are dotted in every direction with students running for any possible safety, many not having arrived to the party in cars to escape in.

thankfully, jungkook is not one of them.

he grasps your wrist painfully hard in his panic and yanks you in the direction of his car, which is so pitch black that you almost didn't see it sitting in the shadows.

when you get inside, you've never been so grateful to be within the safe metal enclosure of a car in your whole life. hands shaking, jungkook jams the key into the ignition and presses the gas pedal so hard your head jerks against the headrest. however, in your temporary relief, you think of lorelai. your vision doubles as you scramble to open your phone and call her, your head spinning with a new spike of fear. it rings for a while with no answer, and you try two more times only to get the same result.

"maybe she got to safety somewhere else?” jungkook tries to reason with you, his eyes bouncing between your face and the road ahead so he doesn't hit any other cars or any random students still running across the streets. "i didn't see her anywhere in the house before we ran out."

"that just means she could be hiding somewhere in there!" you shriek, unable to control your terror at your friend possibly being trapped in the house with the killer.

"well—maybe just let her stick it out, he won't find her if she just—"

"oh god, but i called her like three fucking times; what if he heard the phone ringing? i'm gonna kill myself."

“y/n, you’re overreacting like shit, there’s no way he’d hear a phone ringing in all that noise—"

unlistening, you drop your phone and bang your fists on your head in frustration and anguish.

sighing deeply, jungkook forgoes any attempt to do a 3-point turn, which requires more coordination than he has at the moment, and drives straight up into someone's yard to make a U-turn back toward the house.

you hadn’t gotten too far from the party house, so in another minute or two and with a couple messy turns that cause the wheels to ride up onto the curb, you’re back on the street leading up to the house. before you can reach it, though, jungkook slams on the breaks, and you have to throw your hands out onto the dashboard to avoid flying into it due to not fastening your seatbelt. you’re not very successful; the move hurts your wrists, and you’re pretty sure some of your ribs just got bruised anyway.

“what the fuck?” jungkook shouts.

the virgin killer with his lycanthrope mask is standing in the middle of the street; he turns to face the car. he has a chokehold grip on a guy you recognize as a popular frat member, who is almost bare except for his blue-plaid boxers. you remember seeing the frat guy dancing with his girlfriend when you and lorelai initially entered the party; he was in the group of guys who put this whole party together as a way to “save” the campus’s virgins.

the virgin killer is holding a gun to the guy’s head, and you have no clue where he might’ve gotten it from. the guy’s demeanor is weak, and he’s barely able to stand, which is obviously from the profuse blood loss he’s suffering; the killer has carved sharp letters into his stomach to form two words—“FAIR GAME.”

“fair game?” you mumble, a sickly realization forming in your mind.

“fuck no—" jungkook is already throwing the car into reverse when you hear and see the first bullet go off, exploding the frat member’s head into an unrecognizable mess and making you scream at the top of your lungs. you hear more shots after you close your eyes and tuck your body down, along with the sounds of bullets splitting metal and hitting glass, and you think you might be actively dying—or maybe you’re already dead. even that would be preferable to experiencing this nightmare.

you can’t think as you feel the whole world spinning, your body tossed violently around. in reality, the only thing moving is jungkook’s car as he whips the vehicle around and speeds down the same street you just traveled up.

for a few long minutes, you only hear your own heartbeat, his murmured and frantic curses, and the strained breaths coming from both of you. you keep your body curled up with your knees tucked to your chest and arms over your face. the car’s engine roars as it races down the highway.

you’re afraid to open your eyes and find out, but you have to at some point. plus, the uncomfortable position is making your body hurt. carefully, you unfurl yourself and turn to look at him. “did you get hurt?”

“uhh—no? i don’t think…?” he takes one hand off the wheel to feel up his body as if he’s just realizing that might be a possibility. “but i’m wired off pure adrenaline right now, so give me a few more minutes to be sure…” he looks to you. “are you?”

“no.” your blood still runs cold at the thought of lorelai being stuck in the house or navigating the dark neighborhood streets at this time of night. maybe she doesn’t even have her phone; maybe it was lost in the commotion. the number of possible scenarios makes you ill.

there’s silence for a while; you assume he must not be hurt after all. you start seeing familiar roads that lead back to the campus, and the gears in your mind begin turning, powered by fear.

“do you think it’s safe to go back to the college?” you ask, your voice small.

after a pause jungkook asks, “why not?” though his face begins to look like he’s second-guessing things.

“the killer could go back to the campus…i don’t know. there was so much violence tonight. it’s like he really has a grudge against the students from our school or something. what if he wants more victims? the campus police are already incompetent, but with most of them off the grounds and on their way to the party house…” you don’t finish your thought. you’ll need to warn camille of the potential danger.

“right, yeah…” jungkook’s hands flex around the steering wheel a few times. “we should…probably go somewhere else, then.”

nowhere feels safe. still, you ask, “where?”

changing his route, jungkook glances over at you. “to a friend’s house.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fic #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #black reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #black fem reader #fem reader #female reader

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astroph1les · 7 months

Text

catching up [h.c]

summary: after you made out with hazel in the closed space of her dorm room, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it or her. at a study session, brittany invites the group along with her to a sorority party. hazel declines going as do you. this was your opportunity to get in more ‘lessons’ on what exactly you’ve been missing out on.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature language and content, smut including — fingering (r! receiving), heavy praise kink, dom and sub dymamics, aftercare, jealous!reader, brittany highkey being reader and hazel’s #1 supporter, hazel is a boob girl, more of cocky!hazel bc she’s hot as fuck, fluffy ending.

word count: 5.4K

a/n: y’all ate up falling behind so here’s part two of hazel showing you exactly what you’ve been missing out on.

You’ve always been one to zone out during your and Isabel’s study sessions. It was usually because you all of a sudden began to think of the most random questions or what your life would be like if you were rich.

Now, Hazel was overtaking every single thought that crossed your brain. That afternoon in her dorm room shouldn’t have been as mind-consuming as it was.

It’s only been two days. Two fucking days and Hazel has ruined you.

Her touch was imprinted on your waist. When you got dressed and undressed, you imagined her removing your clothes instead of you. Your body craved her touch in ways that made you feel embarrassed if there was anyone who could read your mind.

And that damn hickey.

It’s at the deepest shade of red and purple, according to Google, because you researched as soon as you left Hazel’s room that day. Isabel hadn’t seen it nor did she know about you and Hazel’s make-out session. You had thrown on the college hoodie over your plain white tee. You were lucky that every single room on campus was below freezing.

You felt bad not telling her as throughout your stay here on campus, she’d become one of your closest friends. But you know how she would’ve reacted if you told her you had made out with your crush just for ‘practice’.

Suddenly, you felt a pencil thump your forehead, causing you to pull yourself out of your crowded thoughts. You held your forehead for a moment to feel over where the eraser hit you.

“Oh my god, what was that?” You ask Isabel from across the table. The two of you were seated in the campus cafe.

“You have not blinked for two minutes and I was getting scared,” Isabel replied with a worried chuckle. “What is going on with you? You never let your iced latte sit there for so long.”

You glanced at your clear plastic cup, noticing the condensation that was forming on the outside. She’s right. Usually, there would just be ice with the tiniest bit of coffee left over for the next hour that you would be studying with Isabel.

“Nothing is up with me. Bel, I’m fine,” you assure her with a forced grin.

Her pretty green eyes narrow at you, clearly not believing a word you were saying. She flips one of her two pig-tail braids over her shoulder before folding her arms in front of her chest, squeezing against her baby pink lace cami and Josie’s gray zip-up.

“Who is it?” Her voice was accusatory as she glared in your direction.

Your eyes widened for just a moment before scoffing.

“What are you talking about?” You sigh and begin to write down notes for your history class.

“I can tell when you’re crushing.” Isabel chuckles, reaching forward to sip her hot coffee. “I’m kind of glad, honestly, because who knows how long you’ve been crushing on Hazel.”

You let out an awkward chuckle along with her. Flashes of images of Hazel’s heavy lips on yours and how she kissed and sucked on your neck came flooding in. You could feel the heat rushing up to your ears and neck. Suddenly, the hickey was becoming very itchy.

You had to tell her.

“Isabel, you’re right. It is someone. I,” you sucked in a deep breath and rubbed your hands over your bare face. “I made out with Hazel two days ago.”

Isabel’s eyebrows raised and her eyes widened at your confession.

“What? Why?” Isabel’s face held a mixture of concern and curiosity.

You open your mouth to explain to her what exactly went down but out of the corner of your eye, you see PJ, Josie, Brittany and of course, Hazel entering the barely occupied cafe. You held one hand up to your temple, muttering an ‘oh, god.’ Isabel noticed the sudden switch up in energy and slowly turned her neck to look behind her, spotting the group.

“You’re telling me about this later,” Isabel stated with a smile as she raised a hand to wave over her girlfriend.

Josie’s elated smile grew when she saw Isabel waving at her and she jogged over to the two of you. You noticed Brittany glance at Hazel before the faintest of smiles spread across her face. You knew exactly what the brunette was thinking and you wanted to disappear into the hoodie at the sight of Hazel.

She was ordering at the register; the cashier was blushing at whatever Hazel was saying. You wanted to vomit. Josie came up behind Isabel’s chair, gripping onto the back of it.

“Hey, babe. You wanna sit with us?” Isabel tilted her neck back to look up at Josie.

“Sure, yeah. I’ll go and let everyone know.” Josie smiled softly down at her girlfriend before placing a kiss on her head.

Your eyes follow Josie’s figure trailing back to the group. She mutters the question to everyone and Hazel instantly cranes her head in the direction of you and Isabel. You don’t even have time to divert your eyes and pretend you didn’t see her as she locks her gaze on you.

Hazel grabbed her cup from the counter and a cheese danish she had gotten on the side, adjusting her tote bag strap. You subtly try and fix your hair, sucking in a deep breath as you watch the group approach. Hazel wore a white crew neck with black stitching and a pair of dark gray Levi’s.

You wanted to roll your eyes at how good she looked. Of course, she had to round the table right next to you when there were a few more open seats elsewhere.

“Hey,” Hazel grinned, her tone kind and friendly.

You couldn’t even attempt to be annoyed with her as soon as she looked in your general direction.

“Hi, Haze,” you breathe out with a smile, twiddling with your pen in hand.

Way to keep your cool, dumbass.

“Holy shit, what the fuck is that on your neck?” PJ nearly shouts as she sits on the other side of you–the side where Hazel had made that hickey.

Everyone turned their heads towards you with furrowed brows. Brittany sat on the right side of Isabel while Josie sat to the left of her. Hazel glanced at Brittany who just smiled to herself, pulling out her own notebook from her bag.

Their little glances were driving you insane.

“Who is giving you hickies?” PJ taunted with a chuckle, nudging your shoulder. “I thought you were celibate.”

“None of your business and I have never once said that I was celibate.” You give PJ a warning look before going back to writing, hoping the girl would leave it alone.

“Maybe not celibate verbatim but I remember your breakdown just last week about giving up on dating forever.” Josie decided to join in, making your skin crawl.

“Guys, it's none of our business so let's just change topics, please,” Hazel spoke up before you could snap at both PJ and Josie.

Your head turned to Hazel, nodding to give her a silent ‘thank you’ for speaking up for you. She merely smiled back and patted your thigh as a reassuring gesture before lifting her coffee to her gorgeous lips. You keep your composure as you had expected her to remove her hand to not draw suspicion to you both. Instead, she kept it there.

Hazel squeezed your thigh once just for good measure.

“Oh, do you guys wanna come to a sorority house party tonight? Stephanie from my metals course invited me and said I could bring friends. It’s supposed to be, like, super fun.” Brittany spoke up, her eyes bouncing from person to person.

You look up from your paper when you hear Josie, Isabel, and PJ agree to the party. Hazel’s hand left your thigh and felt like you could breathe again, rubbing at her neck with a shrug.

“I don’t think I’ll go this time, guys.” Hazel takes a bite of her danish as everyone starts to question her. “I just don’t feel it tonight. I actually got shit to do.”

Isabel’s eyes were digging into you at what Hazel had said which caused you to frown. Hazel thrived in those types of scenarios. Who knows how many drunk sorority girls had experimented with her?

“Wha— Hazel, you’re my pass to sorority puss.” PJ huffed.

“Maybe you’ll get some if you stop calling it puss, PJ,” Hazel retorted, snorting at PJ’s words.

You zoned out of the rest of the conversation, focusing on how Hazel was going to be alone tonight. Or at least, you were hoping she was going to be alone. ‘Shit to do’ could easily be some other girl she had managed to seduce easily just by being her naturally charming self.

Maybe tonight is the night to ask Hazel for some more ‘lessons’.

Isabel had helped you pick out a cute yet comfortable outfit. Your white tube top that you brought out on rare occasions and a dark blue jean mini skirt with pockets that didn’t even work. You took a risk and left your hair in its natural state. It was rare for you to leave it down as it was hard to manage otherwise.

But you felt good, sexy even in this outfit and you had every intention to do something with Hazel tonight. You even shaved from head to toe which might’ve been overdoing it, but you felt more confident that way.

You close your eyes and suck in a deep breath as you prepare to knock on the door. You haven't heard any moaning so you assume Hazel is by herself. You knock on the door three times, bouncing on your Converse-covered feet anxiously.

The heavy door swung open to reveal Hazel in a white tank top and green sports bra, a pair of faded olive green sports shorts clinging onto her bottom half. Her eyes light up at the sight of you, leaning one of her arms against the door.

“Hi.” Hazel’s smile spreads onto her face, tilting her head to the side as her eyes follow up and down your body.

“Hey,” you reciprocate her smile, clasping your hands behind your back. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course, honey. Come in.” Hazel stepped aside to open the door more for you to walk in.

You step into the familiar environment, scanning the area to see a candle lit on her and Brittany’s shared bedside table. The way the rest of the room was only lit up by said candle illuminated an almost seductive element to the area.

“I thought you were going to the house party?” Hazel asked as she shut the door and locked it. Her eyes fell on the round of your ass in the skirt, rolling her bottom lip in between her teeth to hold back the groan that was threatening to escape from her lips.

You really were the prettiest thing she’d ever seen.

“Uh, no. Parties aren’t my thing, but they’re usually yours,” you point out, turning to face her. “Why didn’t you go tonight?”

Hoping you’d come by. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.

“I wasn’t in the mood for partying.”

You simply nod, not wanting to push any more on the subject as you lean on the end of her identical bed frame to yours. Hazel furrows her brows and folds her arms over her chest, inching in closer to you. Your confidence shrank because of her close proximity.

“Why are you here, honey? Hmm?” Her voice was low and inviting, a hint of a smirk forming on her lips.

“I wanted to see you,” you admit, hands gripping onto the wood nervously. Your gaze flickers from her eyes to her cupid’s bow. “And I wanted to see if you wanted to teach me something else.”

“Like last time?” Hazel hummed.

“Yeah but just… more.” You explained awfully, nerves getting the best of you.

Hazel nodded as she stepped in between your open legs. Her hands rest on your jean-covered waist, your hips pushing up into her touch. God, you had missed her hands.

“Do you get off often, honey?” Hazel asked, throwing you off guard for a moment. Her thumbs rub the strip of your newly exposed skin as you sit on the foot of the bed frame.

You shake your head, looking at her with a sheepish smile. “Not really, no. I try when I have time or feel like I’m in the mood. But n-no, no. I don’t.”

“Okay, do you feel like you know how?” Hazel tilted her head, squeezing your hips once before continuing the soothing rubs.

Again, you shook your head, not elaborating that time. Hazel’s sharp gaze and sweet words caused your panties to pool with your arousal.

“I can show you.” Hazel’s voice was so low, it was borderline whispering.

Your brows raised and eyes widened with hope, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth. “Really?”

Hazel’s lips curled into that signature smirk, staring directly at your lips shamelessly. You were wearing this shimmery gloss that Brittany had lent you after the group's study session.

“You look like an angel, honey.” Hazel compliments you with that look that you’ve seen Isabel give Josie numerous times.

She was horny, too. You could feel it and you wanted her now. You’re elated by her sweet words and your mind is already fogging over.

“Can I kiss you?” One of her hands leaves its spot at your waist to cup your cheek.

You nod with a soft ‘yeah’ before she leans down to capture your lips onto hers. You tilt your chin up to follow her lips, your hands releasing the wood to hold onto the back of her neck.

Both of her hands grip onto your waist, the rings covering her middle and ring fingers indenting into your skin. You gasp as her tongue swipes past your bottom lip but she doesn’t slip it in like you had hoped. You whine softly, looping your fingers under her chains to pull her in closer.

This causes Hazel to pull away with a hum, looking down at you with hooded eyes.

“Still getting too eager, huh?” Hazel teased, gripping and tugging your hips in closer to her crotch. Her roughness only made you wetter; you needed her to touch you now.

“Haze, please.” You look into her eyes, hoping she will do something soon.

Hazel pecked your lips a few more times, releasing your beautiful hips to walk around you to the bed. You turn your neck to follow her body and watch her sit on the bed, legs out like last time but more spread out.

“C’mere, baby. Sit up against me.” Hazel motioned with a small smile, her eyes trailing up and down your body as you stood up.

You blushed sheepishly and made your way to sit on the bed. Your mind echoed the way she called you ‘baby’ and how it made your desperation for her grow even more, if that was even possible.

Hazel doesn’t hesitate to take it into her own hands to tug you by your waist to sit in between her legs. Your back was against her chest, her cold chains and her mullet-rocker hair brushing up against your exposed back and shoulders.

“Are you comfortable?” Hazel’s hands were rubbing up and down your shoulders to rest at your upper thighs.

“Yeah. What are you going to do?” You question softly, your hands resting on your lap.

“Well, help you be able to make yourself cum, yeah? That’s what you want, right, honey?” Hazel’s head was next to yours, her chin resting on your shoulder.

It annoyed you not being able to see her. That is until you saw her closet that was right in front of the bed. A full-body mirror hung on the back of one of the doors. You could see the shadowy view of Hazel’s face, her cocky smirk flashing you through the reflection.

Were you into mirror sex? The sight of you up against her, chest panting and legs spread to see your best pair of panties clinging onto your wet cunt. Hazel’s palms were holding your legs open, eyes locked on your flushed face and chest.

“Is the mirror okay? I can take it down if you’re not—“

“No!” You interrupt her, your hands flying to hers that were on your mid thigh. “I like it. I like being able to see you.”

Hazel smiled at how open and honest you were being. For being as inexperienced as you were, you weren’t doing as bad as you thought you would be. Hazel made everything feel easier.

“Are you flirting with me?” Hazel teased, digging her nose into your neck where the hickey was.

You let out a soft giggle at the feeling of her lips brushing along the mark. Her lips replaced her nose within the span of five seconds. Your eyes focus on the mirror, watching as her lips gently kiss the darkening spot.

“How’s the hickey feeling, baby? Talk to me.” Hazel questioned as her hands were running up and down your sides.

“Normal. It feels fine.” You tell her truthfully, the way her tone made your pussy pulsate.

You wanted her to talk to you that way forever. The way every word was dripping in lust sent shivers down your spine and goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“We’ll talk about it another time, yeah? Let’s focus on you, baby.” Hazel’s palms trailed to the front on the ribbed tube top, her fingers right underneath your tits.

You push your chest forward into her touch, growing ‘eager’ as Hazel’s called you before. So what if you were eager? You were a virgin getting manhandled and groped by your crush who was about to teach you how to get off.

“Before you get off, honey, you have to tease yourself, okay?” Hazel’s lips grazed against the shell of your ear. “Be gentle.”

You nod to show that you were paying attention. Her hands that were brushing past your underboob creep to your nipples that were stippling through the fabric of the tube top. You inhale sharply, eyes fluttering but not closing just yet. Her fingers slip underneath the bottom of the material to tug it down ever so slightly, exposing more of your chest to the mirror.

“This is cute.” Hazel smirked against your skin, placing a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

“Thank you,” you reply, eyes locking on her hands through the mirror.

The thought of other girls going crazy over seeing Hazel in the reflection just as you did made your stomach turn with jealousy. You know it's happened and you were only hurting yourself more by pondering on it while you were with her.

She’s not yours.

“Hey,” Hazel whispered, furrowing her brows. “You with me? Kinda spaced out there for a second, honey.”

You blinked twice before nodding, letting out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, yes. I’m sorry.” You apologize, now suddenly overcome with embarrassment.

“Don’t apologize, baby. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Hazel was quick to make sure you were feeling comfortable. “You’re doing good.”

The praise made you preen and turned your mind to mush. It didn’t help that her hands were slipping underneath your tube top to lightly grope at your tits. You hum at the feeling, the cold rings adding to the sensation. Your head rolls onto her shoulder as she runs her thumb over your nipples.

“Look at the mirror for me.” Hazel instructed, removing her hands from underneath your top.

You did as you were told, gaze locked back on your reflection. Her hands were trailing up to the top of the tube top, fingers digging into the fabric to tug it completely down. Your tits are exposed now and you feel vulnerable.

A good, exciting vulnerable.

“You are just beautiful everywhere, huh?” Hazel hummed as she took both of your tits into her palms, her bottom lip rolling between her teeth.

You thought your tits were alright. Nothing seemed that special about them but Hazel made it seem like your body was crafted by Greek sculptors.

“Haze,” was all you could say, not knowing how to take such praise.

“Alright, alright,” she placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, shushing you softly.

As you sat there, your sexual frustration with her grew. You knew this was the point of the teasing, but you needed to get off immediately before you broke down into tears.

“Can I take this off?” Hazel asked softly, tugging on a belt loop on the skirt.

You nod eagerly. Your hips lifted up as she carefully shuffled the jean down your plush thighs. Her nails nicked at your skin as her hands brush down the sides of the plump skin of your outer thigh. You aid her by kicking the skirt off the foot of the bed once they reach your knees.

Hazel lets out a soft chuckle at your impatience. You were a vision laid out on her. The way your panties She couldn’t believe she was going to do this with you. She hasn’t been one to have performance anxiety but it was different with you.

You weren’t just a stranger or one-night stand; you were her friend or whatever you wanted to call what you two had now. That was something for her to worry about later.

Now, her lustful desire was the only thing on her mind.

“So, what I mean by teasing is,” Hazel trailed off to drag the tips of her fingers over the front of the damp spot in front of your white cotton panties.

You sharply inhale as her fingers brush right over your swollen clit from underneath the material. You keep your gaze on the reflection, not wanting to miss a moment of this. The sight was so deliciously obscene. A part of you wished you could take a photo.

“Make yourself want it more, okay?” Hazel instructs as her hands move to your inner thighs.

The short crescent indentation of her nails make themselves known as she lightly digs her hands into the plush and soft skin. You nod mindlessly, one of your hands gripping onto one of her arms.

“When am I supposed to…” You trail off, gasping when she casually brushes past your clothed pussy.

“Touch?” Hazel hummed, kissing at the nape of your neck.

“Haze, it hurts. Please.” You whimper, no longer feeling like yourself at the moment.

You were induced in a desperate haze, hips rutting forward into her touch. At this point, you were readily waiting for her to remove the restricting panties.

“So impatient, baby.” She tuts, shaking her head teasingly as she hooks her thumbs underneath the waistband of your panties.

You allowed a whine to leave your panting lips. You released her arm to allow her to shimmy down the embarrassingly wet underwear. The mirror revealed your glistening cunt.

“See how wet you are? Fuck me.” Hazel groans out her words as she teases her middle finger through the folds. “Such a pretty pussy, too, honey.”

Your hips follow her touch enthusiastically, needing. her to do something. Hazel removed her fingers as soon as she noticed your bucking hips, smiling to herself. She made sure to lock your gazes as she slipped the finger that was covered in your slick into her mouth.

You let out a gentle moan at the sight, tilting your head to look at her face. Hazel captured her lips to yours as soon as your eyes locked, one hand cupping the underside of your jaw. The other sneaky hand made its way in between your legs to tease your sopping cunt with her middle and ring finger.

As you were messily kissing, one of her fingers began to slip into you. You pull away to softly pant. You and Hazel’s swollen lips were just a centimeter apart as you begged for her to keep going.

“Your pussy feels so fucking perfect, baby. So wet for me, yeah?” Hazel mutters against your lips, her cocky attitude peaking through.

You nod at her words, trying to press your lips to hers. She shook her head with a condescending, chuckle and jerked her chin towards the full-body mirror.

“Watch, pretty girl. You’re supposed to learn something from this.” Hazel pecked the underside of your jaw before pulling back.

You refrained from rolling your eyes but focused on the reflection. Her finger began to pump in and out of you.

You weren’t learning jackshit.

All you could focus on was how fucking amazing her finger felt inside you. When she curled it inside, you let out a mix of a surprised and aroused moan. One of your hands grips onto her bicep tightly as you buck your hits to meet her fingers movements.

“You’re doing so good, honey,” Hazel kisses at flushed cheeks and jaw. “My perfect girl.”

You preen at the praise, only being able to audibly respond with whines and moans.

My. She said ‘my’ as if you were hers.

As pathetic as it may have seemed, you felt it in that you were. Her endless amount of praise made your skin beam. Your mind was too fucked out to even notice that she had slipped in her middle finger. The slight stretch made you clench down onto her.

“Oh my— fuck, Haze,” you whine as a hand reached down to grip onto her wrist, feeling overwhelmed with the pressure being applied to your g-spot.

“Yeah? Feel good, honey?” Hazel’s other hand cupped one of your breasts as her nose brushed against the crook of your flushed and sweaty neck.

You nod with a delicate whimper. “I wanna cum, please, Haze. Please.”

Hazel kissed at that sweet spot right underneath your ear before kissing the sensitive hickey. The sound of you begging to cum made her own underwear become slick with arousal but this was focused on you. Making you cum.

Just to give you some ‘lessons’, of course.

“C’mon, baby. You can do it, pretty girl.” Hazel’s encouraging words made you moan softly.

Her fingers picked up their pace as the other hand kept its hold on your tit. You keep your gaze locked on the reflection and let out the most raunchy sounds that you’ve ever made. You feel your lower abdomen tightening as your orgasm gets closer.

Your hips stutter as you throw your head back onto Hazel’s shoulder, legs attempting to clamp her arm. The sensations of her wet kisses, curling fingers and delicate touch were too immense.

“Hazel,” you whined, your voice becoming higher pitched as you were about to cum.

That one word alerted her to keep her same pace. The hand that was on your boob wrapped around your waist to pull your flushed body up against her as you. Your breaths had become ragged and moans were whiny and high-pitched.

You were so close. So fucking close.

“Cum for me, baby. You’re doing so good. So gorgeous like this.”

You couldn’t even comprehend your orgasm as it ripped through you so quickly. Your eyes shut and rolled into the back of your head for just a second before sitting up to trap Hazel’s hand. Your entire body was quivering, hips stuttering as you rode out of the orgasm against her fingers.

You think you could pass out in all honesty from how intense everything felt. Hazel was whispering sweet nothings into your ear, one arm still wrapped around your waist to keep you steady.

“There you go. You did perfect, honey,” she pressed gentle kisses onto your heated skin, trying to get you to calm down. Your eyes were shut, chest falling and rising rapidly.

“I did?” You pant out, a weak chuckle leaving your lips.

“Mhmm. Perfect as always.” Hazel reassured you, letting out a smitten laugh along with you.

You hum as fatigue takes over your limbs. Hazel pressed gentle kisses onto your damp hairline, holding you close to her. You immediately try to nuzzle into her touch, feeling in dire need of a nap.

“Hey, you gotta go and pee.” Hazel whispers as she notices how limp your body was getting.

“Can I pee tomorrow morning?” You attempt to get her to let you stay here in her arms.

“No,” she huffed out a laugh, “I don’t want you to get a UTI. Look, I’ll come with since I have to wash my hands.”

You suck in a deep breath, pretending to think for a moment before sighing out an ‘okay.’ Hazel reluctantly released your waist to let you make yourself more… well, not fucked out. You sit up gradually onto her bedsheets, cracking your lower back.

The rest of the night was more than you could’ve asked for. After you had gotten the strength to stand up, Hazel walked with you to the small bathroom her and Brittany’s room had. You peed and she washed her hands in the comfortable silence.

You fell asleep happily in her sleeping shirt that she had lended you: a plain white oversized tee. Hazel slept on her back as you rested your head on her chest, one leg thrown over the both of hers.

The next morning came quickly as you heard shuffling coming from the bathroom. Your eyes were squinted as you stared at the posters on the wall. You knew it wasn’t Hazel in the bathroom as you could feel her arm draped around your naked waist underneath the shirt.

You sit up slowly as you rubbed your heavy eyes with one palm, looking around the room as you were fully waking up. A soft click echoed into the room and you see Brittany emerge from the bathroom, wearing what you assumed was her outfit from the night before. A neon pink tank top with white shorts.

Her makeup was slightly smudged, neon green eyeshadow lathering her lids.

Brittany grinned weakly at you, yawning through her words. “Morning.”

“Morning.” You blush as you tug the sheets to cover your exposed lower half.

“How did you sleep?” Her tone was knowing and cheeky.

“Britt, don’t start.” Hazel speaks up causing you to jump as her eyes were still shut and body was still.

You thought she was dead asleep. Hazel merely tugged you in closer to her, adjusting herself once again as she smacked her dry lips. You lay back down onto her chest, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“Fine. Happy for you guys, though. You know how many times I had to deal with you both ogling at each other?” Brittany muttered as she laid on her side, groaning when her head hit the mattress.

You tilt your head up at Hazel’s relaxed features, watching them alter into annoyance as she opens her eyes to glare at Brittany’s figure. A small smile spread onto your lips at what you had just heard.

“You ogle at me?” You whisper, twirling a strand of her hair around your finger.

Hazel couldn’t help but allow the faintest smile to spread onto her lips.

“Yeah, I kind of…” Hazel sucks in a deep breath before huffing out. She knew this was now or never. She had to tell you the truth. “I really like you. I know you may not believe me because of… you know. But I do. I want this with you. It’s scary to me but I don’t want this with anyone else.”

Your heart grew tenfold at her confession, eyes softening with adoration. Her gaze was avoiding yours. You’d never really seen Hazel so vulnerable in the few years that you’ve known her.

“I really like you too, Haze. Ask anyone in our friend group. I thought I made it so obvious.” You confess as you trace her chains on her neck.

“Really?” Hazel asked in disbelief.

“Don’t even,” you scoff, finally locking eyes with her. “I got so fucking flustered around you.”

“Okay, yeah. I noticed.” Hazel admits softly, pressing her nose into your cheek as you groan out in embarrassment. “Stop. I thought it was because you were shy.”

“Around you. Literally no one else.” You bury your face into her neck, cuddling into her body.

“Well, regardless of that, I’m glad that this is happening now.” Hazel pressed soft kisses onto your head before accepting your embrace.

“Me too.”

You hum in content with your position, mentally, physically and with Hazel. You close your eyes once again, floating down into another deep sleep in her embrace. Classes forgotten, worries disappearing, and heart full.

Making out with your best friend was the best decision you ever made.

taglist: @imjustapearl @seethesin @matchamilkislover @beabeebrie @curiousshifter101 @uraesthete @shaddyluvs @fictionalcharacterspecialist @c4llahansgirl @maggiecc @fruitysnackysmain @emststar @crvptidgf <33

#hazel callahan #bottoms movie #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms 2023 #wlw #sapphic #ruby cruz #i need her #hazel callahan fic #hazel callahan x you #the loml tbh #cocky!hazel supremacy

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bowlofsoob · 8 months

Text

YEONJUN AS YOUR COLLEGE RA

yeonjun x gender neutral reader

strangers to friends to lovers, college setting

started out as you and yeonjun only communicating for things via dorm life but after a party breaks the ice you start to catch feelings for him after becoming friends with benefits

notes; idk if it’s different in other countries but RA means resident advisor and basically it’s the person in charge of your dorm floor and in charge of everyone

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The night was alive and the air was thick with multiple lights and smoke that you and the other students could have been underwater. It seems your roommates had gone all out with the smoke machines placed at the front of the dorm, blanketing it, as if it was a completely different world compared to the other silent dorms on the same floor.

You awkwardly nursed a cup of beer in your hands near the door as you anxiously wait for Yeonjun to arrive. It was stupid, but if you couldn’t have him you’d at least like to befriend him. Or take a body shot off of him. More so the latter.

“Hey,” you hear, a voice so low in your ear you almost jump and drench yourself in cheap beer.

“Hi,” you swallow, turning around and coming face to face with the man of your wet dreams.

You shove your drink into his hand, “Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss the first party of the year,” Yeonjun lazily smiles, downing the cup in a second, not even flinching once.

A group of boys followed behind him, immediately running in and jumping to the music as Yeonjun stayed near you.

“Show me to the drinks,” Yeonjun hums, holding up two bottles he’d brought.

As you both walked deeper into the dorm you could hear the roar of the students and music thrumming straight through your body and into your eardrums. Bodies moved around you like sweaty gnats, the dim lights strung up on the walls being the only source of light guiding you through the hall beside Yeonjun, flickering between violets and hues of blue. It fit the theme perfectly for that night.

Once in the kitchen Yeonjun went to work pouring himself a drink.

“You want one of my famous drinks?” Yeonjun asks, rolling up his sleeves as he leans back on the counter.

“Famous?” you smile, “According to whom?”

A cold glass was shoved into your hand, liquid sloshing precariously against the edge. You brought the drink to your lips, the fizzling sensation causing a nostalgic feeling to wash over you. Yeonjun immediately drank one of his own, gulping it down as you cheered him on. He raised his arm above him once he was done.

“Pretty good, right?” he laughs, already working on another drink for you both.

It was at that moment you were ready to strip right then and there. There was something so intimate about you both being the only ones in the kitchen, red lights flickering every other second and illuminating Yeonjun’s sly smirk. His eyes on you.

“I suppose,” you shrug, “Get a couple more in me and we’ll see.”

“I like your vibe, Y/n,” Yeonjun hums, this time just making one drink and walking over to you. “I call this one the Lover’s Shot,” he slurs, bringing the glass to your lips.

“You use that line on everyone?” you question, letting Yeonjun tilt up your face with his finger and pour the concoction down your throat.

“Nah, specially curated for you,” Yeonjun answers, wiping the astray alcohol that missed your lip with his thumb.

“It’s…something,” you strain, the alcohol burning your throat, but not as much as Yeonjun’s eyes boring into yours.

“Not the best review but I’ll take it,” Yeonjun murmurs, placing an experimental hand on your waist. You try not to shriek as you feel your stomach churn.

You offer no words of protest as Yeonjun’s slender fingers slide underneath your top, caressing your bare skin.

Maybe it was the alcohol filtering your senses but a part of you wanted to make-believe that the entire campus’ crush wanted you too.

“I could show you something a bit tastier,” Yeonjun says, gently pinching your waist.

You feel hot.

“Yeah?” you manage to get out.

“Is this alright?” he innocently murmurs before kissing you on the corner of your mouth.

His breath against your cheek is soft and unimaginable.

“It is,” you answer before moving your head so his lips land on yours instead. You tried not to smile as you felt his pillowy lips upon yours, his other hand on the back of your neck as he tilted it.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as Yeonjun guides you and presses you against the counter, slipping a knee in between your legs as you reach over the tug on his hair.

“My room?” you slip out in between kisses.

“How about mine?” Yeonjun smiles, breath hot on your neck, “Nobody there to bother us.”

That was enough for you.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

the next morning and few weeks;

#yeonjun smau #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x gender neutral reader #yeonjun texts #yeonjun fics #yeonjun boyfriend texts #txt smau #txt x reader

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the-ace-with-spades · 9 months

Text

When Ice and Mav actually moved in together for the first time (after dodging it for about five years) when Mav had to take in Bradley, Ice found pretty soon that Bradley and Mav had no sense of safety --- would always forget to lock the door, either while leaving the house for the day or retiring for the night.

So he installed locks that would lock automatically as soon as the door shut.

Of course, Mav and Bradley didn't remember to lock the doors because they didn't remember to take the keys with them. One can imagine this becomes a problem.

After the twentieth time Bradley biked from school only to wait three hours for Mav, and then another two to wait for Ice because Mav also forgot his keys, Bradley decides to do something about it.

He's very much Mav's kid so instead of doing the normal thing and making key copies and putting them in some secret spots/his locker room, he decides he's just going to learn to pick locks.

It's the nineties so he basically just goes to a locksmith and asks if he can buy some tools off him and the guy is so fascinated by this scrawny thirteen-year-old who wants to learn to pick locks to break into his own house, he not only teachs him basics but also gives him lock picking mags and a book.

So Bradley learns on old locks and bike chains and then one day, he forgets the keys and breaks into their own house. It happens again and again.

Mav finds out when he picks Bradley up from the principal's office one day and arrives at the house to promptly realize he didn't take his keys in the morning. He asks Bradley if he has the keys, he doesn't, and Mav just gets fed up because there's no way they're waiting six hours until Ice comes back so he has to go back to base.

Bradley makes a deal with him. "If I get us inside, you won't ground me."

Obviously, Mav agrees. And Bradley picks the lock.

And like, Mav probably shouldn't indulge this, but it also means he doesn't have to worry about carrying keys again so, yeah, he buys Bradley a new lockpicking mini tool belt. And Bradley gets even better at it.

One day, Ice is supposed to be at home the whole day, brought a suitcase full of confidential documents with himself, the type that has both a lock and a code, and tells Bradley to tell Mav he's only going to be at the office fifteen minutes tops, he'll be home the whole day, please don't blow a gasket Mav. Bradley asks why, Ice explains he forgot the goddamn key for the suitcase and Bradley is like, "If I can open it, can you buy me that keyboard before my birthday?" and for funnsies, Ice agrees.

Before he finishes saying, "This is government property, kid, no way you'll be able to open it with some funny screwdriver," Bradley is reading the top secret mission plans out loud.

He gets that keyboard. Ice is the man of his word.

One time, Slider arrives on base in his new fancy BMW, showing it off and boasting so much he locks the key in by accident.

Ice is like, "Don't call the locksmith, I got it," and calls home and asks Bradley to check if he can open it and Bradley's answer is, "Only if Uncle Slider agrees to teach me to drive in it." Slider, obviously, agrees because there's no way --- he doesn't know what Ice is playing at but Baby Goose is not going to open his car.

Bradley opens the brand new BMW with about twenty Navy guys cheering him on in the parking lot.

Now, when Bradley is all alone at college, it's very tempting to use it for bad stuff --- to steal cars or rob shops, especially when money gets tough --- but the worst he does is breaking into the cafeteria and stealing sandwiches and bags of chips. He knows having a record would kick him out of NROTC, fast, so the lockpicking becomes a bit useless --- he does charge people from his dorms (which all have the same automatic lock on the doors) ten bucks to open them and avoid calling the RA.

Next time it has any significant impact on his life, Jake Seresin just forgot his key to his locker. He's got his flight suit but his boots and a space to leave his bag is behind the closed door.

Bradley only says, "You're not going to ask questions and you're going to owe me one."

He takes out a pin he always has attached to his car keys and within minutes, Seresin's locker is open.

He doesn't know it but Jake stares at him, not because he's wondering how much shit he's stolen (that too, a little bit) but also because apparently he finds lock picking really hot.

Now, Bradley goes about his life and soon enough finds out that Seresin's definition of 'owe you one' meant taking Bradley out on a date. Which, honestly, Bradley isn't that opposed to even if he puts on a face, Seresin is nice to look at and it's hard to find a guy to fuck when you're training six days a week in flight school.

They have a little routine of Jake calling with, "Hey, I locked myself out, can you get your ass here?" and Bradley lockpicking his door and then pinning him to said door as soon as they're inside. He's pretty sure he's seen Jake's keys in his back pocket a few times it happened.

This continues but Bradley keeps on staying longer and longer at Jake's place, more of his already small collection of things makes its way there, to the point that it's more like he's living there too and just breaking in every time, like back at the house in San Diego.

Obviously, he gets spooked, badly, when Jake finally says that when they move to Lemoore after they finish training, he's giving Bradley an actual key. The last time he shared a key with someone, he's been told he isn't enough and isn't ready and had all his dreams shattered --- like hell he's letting Jake chew out his heart, again.

So he requests change of target stations and doesn't say shit until the winging ceremony.

Next time he picks a lock, it's Nat's car in the NAS Oceans parking lot. He doesn't say she owes him one but she offers him a drink at the nearby bar as a thank you. He says no, just not to risk it again.

Nat sticks but nothing like with Jake happens.

Years go on and the second time around Bradley is at Top Gun, with Mav hovering over him like a goddamn shadow, with Nat's judgemental eyes and with Jake's big pretty mouth not knowing what he's saying, he gets a text.

I locked myself out. Can you get your ass here? with a base house location pinned in the next message.

Maybe he's naive but he goes.

"I really did lock myself out," Jake tells him straight away. "Don't think this means anything."

They haven't talked since he took out Bradley's dirty laundry in front of everyone in the debriefing room. Bradley opens his front door and is about to leave when Jake asks, "You wanna step inside?"

It doesn't solve anything. He doesn't know if Jake actually locked himself out or not.

When he and Mav are discharged, waiting to leave the base again, and Mav swears and mutters, "I forgot my goddamn keys," and Bradley knows Ice is currently in Hawaii, Bradley asks, "You got some paper clips on you?"

It doesn't solve anything but he breaks into Mav and Ice's house.

It doesn't solve anything but it's a start.

#icemav #mavdad and icepops get tricked #this was a silly idea #hangster #bradley rooster bradshaw #tgm #op #charlie writes

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morewittepain · 3 months

Text

some thoughts i had while thinking about college and inevitably connecting it back to my fixations as i always do:

random tbosas college au hcs!!

lucy gray would beg whichever poor soul got forced to be her roommate to push their mattresses together to make a mega bed, but she gets so cozy the first night that she sleeps through all seven of her alarms and misses like three classes.

livia, arachne, and clemensia are all insufferable sorority girls. except arachne and clemensia are super serious about it and livia is only in it for the booze and the lols. she made one joke day 1 of freshman year about being a sorority girl and ended up committing to the bit a little too hard, and now she's too far in to back out.

there's one bar off campus that all the daddy's money students (the academy mentors) started going to to escape from the weird liberal arts kids (the tributes) until one day lucy gray ends up scoring a job playing at said bar and now everyone is significantly bummed out when anyone mentions the place.

riding off of that, we all know that lucy gray is a theatre kid, but she's the most insufferable brand. she runs through the halls singing show tunes, she tries to start flash mobs in the dining hall, and if you mention it once she will not shut up about the theatre club's latest improv show. they did wicked once and she showed up to classes in full green makeup every day throughout the entirety of tech week.

not only is she the theatre kid, she's just the weird kid in general. she shows up to every 8 am class in the most insanely tacky diy outfits. more often than not, she repurposes whatever costume pieces the theatre department was throwing out. it's all craft store gemstones, hot glue, and a metric ton of puffy paint. she's also constantly conjuring flowers out of thin air it seems and passing them out as flower crowns to whoever is within a ten mile radius. mid final she just slowly passes you a whole heap of daisies weaved together and you're left like "??????"

she sets her eyes on someone and either becomes their best friend or worst nightmare.

coryo walking through the front door covered in glitter with a **very** homemade rainbow scarf forcefully tied around his neck and a flower behind his ear: TIGRIS THE WEIRD KID GOT ME ON THE WALK HOME AGAIN AND I COULDN'T OUTRUN HER

sejanus and coryo would dorm together for a total of two months before coryo decides that if he doesn't move off campus he will literally kill himself so he ends up back with tigris and commutes. he's a coward (sejanus snores).

oh god wait no is he a frat boy? i hate that image in my head. GET IT OUT!!

mizzen is significantly younger than everyone else, like 14 or something, and hangs out on campus with coral (bc in my head they're cousins or smthn) and it is quite literally the "uhhhh want a beer?" "HE'S FOUR!!" meme. nobody knows what to do with him. he's just sitting there with an ipad and a yoohoo living his best life until coral makes him do his homework.

coryo fails a situationship twice a week and everyone clowns on him constantly for never being able to get out of the talking stage. one day he's showing up to lucy gray's shows and the next he's ducking behind cars in the parking lot so she doesn't see him. one day he's making out with livia at a party and the next he's crying on the floor while clemensia pats him on the back because nobody loves him. one day he's genuinely hooking up with sejanus and the next he's pretending he was drunk so he can act like he doesn't remember. boo you whore!!! men will do anything BUT therapy.

sejanus is that one kid whose mom is always on campus for some reason and just chilling in their dorm. they're knitting sweaters and watching friends, leave them alone!!

clemensia would be the ra that everyone hates because she would absolutely snitch on your ass to look good, meanwhile lamina is the ra that everyone loves because she's just in it for the free room and is too tired to hunt anyone down for breaking the rules. work smarter, not harder.

reaper is also a weird kid, but in the mysterious artist who just glares at people from across the dining hall and sketches angrily kinda way. he and lucy gray are besties because i said so. he's teaching her how to paint in exchange for guitar lessons, except she can only finger paint and he's left handed and can hardly play her guitar comfortably.

treech and lamina were that one couple that picked the same college during their honeymoon phase in high school and travelled together except it absolutely ruined their relationship and now they hate each other. if you're a girl's girl, though, you take lamina's side because she does no wrong (totally not because she lets you sneak pot into the dorm as long as she "can't see it" so she doesn't have to do a whole night's worth of paperwork).

coral and lucy gray have been dating for half of a semester but pretend to hate each other when they're in public simply for the bit. they're faking petty cat fights, they're glaring at each other in the hallways, but really they're smoochin behind the scenes. they just think they're funny.

it's 5 am and i need to SLEEP but please drop any other headcanons you have about this batshit au because I would love to see them. i'm sure this will make no sense when i reread it in the morning, but trust that i will revisit this subject because them just being normal teenagers is always so funny to me.

#the hunger games #thg #tbosas #tbosas headcanon #thg headcanons #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #sejanus plinth #arachne crane #clemensia dovecote #livia cardew #reaper ash #coral tbosas #mizzen tbosas #lamina tbosas #treech tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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wlfpet · 1 year

Text

ABBY ‘WAR MACHINE’ ANDERSON

—short thoughts

• A honey girl, always keeps a summer tan, usually from working out on the quad all day. Practically glowing all of the time and the girls are insane about it.

• Sorry, the braid is dead. Only ever really wears it on the rugby field, and when she’s walking around campus, her hair is usually down, or up in a bun and held back with a sweatband. Whatever mental image you’re conjuring in your mind, it’s correct. Even that one.

• Her father is the country’s premier neurosurgeon, and he’s donated a lot of money to Jackson University. A library there, a faculty building there, even refurbishing the rugby field for the season. He practically gives a blank check each year, and because of this, consequences don’t really exist for Abs and she gets away with any and everything. The reason why she has an air fryer in her dorm and the RAs pretend like they don’t see it.

• Proud community strap. Was notorious freshman year for having a rotating cycle of girlfriends and side pieces. ‘Those are not healthy coping mechanisms, Abby.’ Her therapist says, but is there really any better way to ease your mind that slipping deep into a warm body, tight and soft and wet? No, probably not.

• Has the prettiest smile, smiles with her eyes, always so charming with plump, kissable lips. Has perfect teeth, never missed a dentist appointment and gets check ups religiously. Had braces in the 10th grade and when she had her first kiss with a girl she cut her lip and it bled all down her mouth. She probably fainted idk.

• Girl himbo (I know what I said.) butch himbo? Butchbo? Actually super smart and well read, majoring in animal science to become a vet tech. Spends a lot of her time in the school library, when she’s not on the field, or at a party, or in a stranger’s bed. Or in her own bed, nursing a hangover, whatever’s more common.

• Still roommates with Manny since freshman year. Originally she got set up with Leah, who then of course wanted to room with her boyfriend, who was conveniently dorming with Manny. A little form-filling here, some schmoozing there, a little ‘my dad owns this school’ over yonder and it was a match made in heaven. Nobody has a deeper, more intimate connection than a butch lesbian and her boy best friend.

• Terribly afraid of needles. She can’t pinpoint specifically what she has against them but they inspire the same nausea in her that heights do, so when she can she steers clear of them. In a turn of drunken, reckless events, Manny convinced her to get her ears pierced, because pretty girls love stud earrings, obviously. By the time the piercer did one ear, Manny had to carry her out of the parlor because she had COMPLETELY passed out.

• Between classes and practice, she forgot to clean her piercing and her ear got infected. She had two large-scale mental breakdowns; the first when she woke up leaking and burning from her ear, which had already sucked the metal halfway into the flesh, and the second, when her dumbass roommate said, “it’s okay, man. I have pliers, I can pull it out for you and then you’re good as new.” She almost threw up.

• The great piercing debacle of ‘21 ended in her calling up her dad, bawling, because she didn’t know what to do, Manny sitting on the couch listening to her freak the fuck out in the bathroom. “This is what happens when you put foreign objects into your body, Abs.” He chided, as *another* needle was plunged into her skin —local anesthetic— before he sliced open her earlobe with a scalpel.

• The proud driver of a cherry-red enclosed Jeep Wrangler, fully paid off by her dad as a highschool graduation gift, an upgrade from the white Audi she got as a 16th birthday present. She gets it rewrapped every six months —the ice blue was real popular with the ROTC girls, the olive green got the environmental club girls out of their panties, the red and black is a pretty good catch-all— (school colours, by the way!)

• Gets her car detailed once every two weeks, the back seat has those mud mats laid down. they’re not for mud.

• Retired horse girl, ALMOST got a pony for her fourteenth birthday! Then, shit happened… and she didn’t get the pony for her fourteenth birthday.

• Loves revenge and power plays, actually! It’s her specialty at this point😚 Got into some medium-tier beef with some dickhead on campus, and somehow his mouth got ahead of him and ended with her being branded as the town’s bulldyke. Interestingly enough, the day didn’t end in Anderson-typical violence. Instead, as one does, she trailed him home one day, borrowing Nora’s black sedan for recon. Just for field research, obviously!

• In the interest of honesty, Abs was definitely planning on stealing the wheels off of his car, or putting bleach in his gas tank, —sugar is a myth, just so you know— until she saw the most beautiful creature strolling out of the house and into a white SUV. Then, her plan changed for absolute scorched-earth total destruction, to an excruciating slow-burn.

• The next week, while shopping at the grocery store which she totally didn’t drive 30 minutes out of her way to go to, she had her first meet cute, coincidentally, with a gorgeous 40-something that just so happened to be some asshole’s mom.

• Before she knew it, she was fucking her on every surface in her house, —artfully furnished, great feng-shui— the kitchen, the bathroom, her marital bed, the couch, essentially the full tour, until they got to her son’s bedroom. Kept a mental note, and when she excused herself to the bathroom she probably erased all of the little shit’s PlayStation saves, too.

• When you start fucking a guy’s mom, it changes you. Your wardrobe especially. Including an arsenal of completely coincidental, just for fun slogan tees, with hits like “I ❤️ HOT MOMS!” “PROMOTED TO DADDY” and a personal favourite, “MAN, I LOVE FISHING!”

* And of course, she comes back to campus fresh off of a 3 hour stint of eating out a woman twice her age, to greet her new best friend with a smile and a, “Hey, your mom makes a good apple fritter! Dessert was fuckin’ greaaat, too! Practically finger lickin’ :)”

* CEO of revenge, comedically evil.

#tiki writes #college!abby #au: jack!u #abby anderson blurb #abby anderson ff #Abby Anderson au

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squirrel-fund · 9 months

Text

A.U.gust 2023 • Day 9 • College

A huge thank you to @gallavichthings for hosting!! 🧡

[This started out as just a graphic of Mickey's door, and then this happened...]

•••

"Excuse me. Could you tell me where to find-"

"Do you know-"

"Would you mind help-"

Ian freezes among the sea of college students that pass by, ignoring him as if he were invisible.

Why didn't he take the advice of his older siblings and gotten here earlier? Now, he could feel anxiety pooling in his chest as fear sped up his heart rate. His first day at college and he's already fucking up. Damn, what if Frank had been right? What if he was just a mistake, a waste of space.

"Hey, you okay?"

Ian focuses on the female voice in front of him. Finally, someone willing to help him.

"I think... I'm fucking lost."

"Here on campus, in life, or both?"

He lets out a relived laugh. "Definitely both."

"Okay." The girl repositions her bookbag on her left shoulder and grins at him. "We'll tackle one thing at a time. Can't find your dorm?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"You look scared to death." She laughs before softly punching him in the shoulder. "Come on, I know someone who can help. I'm Mandy, by the way."

Ian can't help the relieved smile that blooms across his face as he follows his new savior across campus. "Nice to meet you, Mandy. I'm Ian."

<><><>

"So, Ian... you single?"

"Oh, uhm... well, kinda."

"Kinda? What the hell does that mean?"

This was the moment that Ian had obsessed about. To be out and proud on campus or be okay with hushed hookups in some random closet. To gay or not to gay was the question he desperately needed to decide an answer to. So, why not give it a shot with a helpful stranger.

"I'm single. My... my ex... we broke up after graduation. He said he didn't want to be tied down."

Mandy snorts at his answer. "Well, your ex is dumb as shit. You definitely won't be single for long, trust me."

That was it. No judgmental frown, no shocked reaction. Ian just knows, right then and there that Mandy, whatever her last name is, will officially become his favorite person on campus.

At least for now.

As they continue through the halls, Ian starts to notice that the overly cheerful bulletin boards that introduce RAs to the students around them and encourage that friendship is indeed magic, have suddenly gone barren.

No bright colors, no badly drawn, well-known characters from television and movies. Just printed notices that announce floor meetings, things for sell, and other blunt, to the point directions. Ian has to chuckle when such a notice catches his eye. It reads: "GO TO FUCKING CLASS!"

Nudging Mandy in the side, he points at the sign so she too can enjoy the ridiculous words that are trying, and probably failing, to be motivational.

But instead of laughter, all she does is roll her eyes. "I know. He's so fucking stupid. I swear if he gets kicked outta the RA program I'll kill him myself."

And Ian needs to ask the obvious question. Who the hell is 'he'? But before the question can even land on his tongue, Mandy is pounding on a door.

"Open up, dickbreath! Need your help."

She jiggles the doorknob, but it's apparently locked. Dickbreath must not be in, but Ian can see a note taped to the door that has an emergency number written on it.

"Maybe we should call the emergency number?"

Mandy pauses her assault on the door and raises an eyebrow at him. "What emergency number?"

Another glance towards the piece of paper and Ian can see that the number isn't a number at all. It's a word written middle finger to those on their side of the door.

With a shake of her head, Mandy goes right back to pissing the occupant off. She just keeps pounding on the door, making threats to whoever lives inside, while other residents start peeping their heads out into the hall, clearly interested in the disturbance but not enough to take action.

One audience member must know her, though. "Just fucking text him, Mandy, fuck! Some of us are trying to study. I mean-"

And it's during this rant that the door swings open and the hottest, angriest guy that Ian has ever fucking seen steps out into the hallway and instantly yells at the guy.

"Fuck off, James! You're a general education major. The fuck are you studying? Two plus two? Spoiler... it's fucking four."

It shuts the guy up instantly. Well, that and the laughter from his fellow peers.

But dickbreath isn't done with him.

"Why don't you go write a letter home to your mommy? Tell her you're still a virgin. Bet she'd be proud."

Ian can practically feel the anger radiating off of James when he slams the door closed. The rest of the students return to their rooms and Ian hears Mandy's brother clear his throat.

"Who the hell is this?"

"Ian. He's lost."

"No shit. He's with you."

She scoffs, crossing her arms and hitting him with a glare. "He needs help with finding his dorm room."

Dickbreath, or whoever, leans against the doorframe. "And? Take him to student services. S'not my job to play tour guide."

"Actually, it is. You're a resident advisor, Mick, so maybe you should, ya know... 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘦 him where to go."

Ian senses tension. He hates tension. So, he trys to smooth things over. "It's cool. Nick is right. I should have-"

"It's Mick." Dickbreath... uhm, Mick says, sounding out the letter M like he's talking to a toddler. "Like milk, mad, money... and call me Mickey."

Mandy giggles. "Like the m-mm-mouse."

"Shut the fuck up."

Apparently, she's used to this because she just sticks her tongue out at him and pulls her phone out.

"Oh, shit, I gotta go. I'm late for class-"

"The fuck you are."

"-and the professor is a real bitch-"

"You should love her then."

"-so, anyway, yeah. Ian, Mickey. Mickey, Ian. Have fun!"

And just like that, she's gone.

<><><>

Mickey eyes Ian. Jesus, this dude's tall. He should be in a damn centerfold, not here, outside Mickey's room, looking like a fucking wet dream. And goddammit, he's gorgeous. Red hair, green eyes, freckles fucking everywhere. He's always been a sucker for freckles. They just demand attention. Quickly, he imagines them together, talking about absolutely nothing, a storm rolls in while Mickey traces those tiny specks with his fingertips.

Shit. Mickey needs to get laid real fucking soon because, he thinks, he just might need to kick his own ass for that thought.

"What building you in?"

Ian shrugs. "I don't know."

And that's annoying, but, "alright, what's your room number?"

"I don't... I didn't get that information."

Mickey grabs his hoodie off the inside hook beside his door and shrugs it on, closing it behind him. "That's weird. They usually give you that shit in orientation."

Ian doesn't say anything and Mickey takes a minute to assess this situation. New student, lost as fuck, track pants, backwards hat, duffle bag-

"Which you didn't go to because they scheduled your practice at the same time, didn't they?"

Ian's eyes go almost comically wide. "Yes! Why do they do that?"

Mickey shrugs, pushing through the emergency exit open in a way that doesn't trip the alarm, a skill mastered after weeks of running late for class. "Because they own you now. Scholarship?"

"How did you know?"

"Ain't my first year, Red. Plus, I'm supposed to be 'friendly' and 'relatable' as a chosen RA. I know how to spot fresh meat. Plus... you're dressed like a fucking billboard for both Under Armor and this school. No one does that unless they're throwin' money at them."

"Right. Makes sense."

Mickey nods. Of course it does. It's then that he realizes they're walking without a destination, and really, that's unacceptable. "So, do you know anything about where you might be staying?"

Ian stops walking, dropping his duffle bag to the ground before taking a knee and rummaging through it. And Mickey absolutely DOES NOT think of Ian on his knees for any other reason.

"Ah! Here! It says my resident advisor is Paula? Uhm... yeah, Paula Bitterman."

"Fuck off. Paula?"

"You know her?"

Yeah, Mickey fucking knows her alright.

"Listen man, I'm supposed to make you feel comfortable in your 'transition to educational success' but that bitch is fucking nuts. One dude, last year, apparently played his music too loud for her taste and to teach him a lesson she tied him to a chair, smeared raw ground beef on his body, and threatened him with a big ass German Shepard. Guy had nightmares for weeks."

Mickey doesn't need to add that the guy in that story had been him.

Ian groans with this new information. "Great. That's all I need on top of everything else. A psycho RA!"

And he feels bad. Mickey knows how much pressure new students are under, add in being on a scholarship and then top that with Paula Bitterman? Anyone would crumble under that.

Ian shouldn't have to though.

Mickey knew as soon as Mandy showed up at his door with Ian what his matchmaking bitch of a sister was doing. And even though he didn't seem to, he does appreciate her efforts.

But, he wanted to play this slow. That's why his ass is single 𝘯𝘰𝘸. He moved too fast. Got too comfortable and went and caught feelings for someone who did not feel the same.

And ever since then, for the past six months, Mandy has paraded every gay guy she meets across Mickey's path. Yet, none of them have interested him. Just a gray blend of guys who could be mistaken for anyone else.

But there's something different about Ian. From the moment that Mickey saw him in the hallway, he can tell this motherfucker clings to the shit he cares about.

Mickey sorta wants that someday.

So, fuck it. Here goes.

"You could... I don't know... I mean, if you wanted to..."

"If I wanted to what?"

Spit it out, Milkovich!

"You should sleep with me."

That was not what Mickey's brain had wanted to say.

"I mean... not together, obviously..."

Ian scrunches up his face, sarcasm extremely evident. "Obviously? You mean, you don't want to sleep with me?"

Mickey sighs. "What I 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 is that there's an open room on my floor this semester. I could probably pull a few strings. Get you moved."

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Sure, why not? You're a better option than whatever dumbass this place chooses for me."

Mickey knows he needs to try harder.

<><><>

Three weeks into the semester and Ian is obsessed with Mickey.

How could he not be?

Not only did Mickey get Ian moved to his building but he also, somehow, got him a card for the cafeteria to get free food. He had said it was because of Ian's "fucked up schedule" making it nearly impossible to grab a bite on days he has practice.

But, Ian likes to believe it's more than that.

Because Mickey comes to his games, he texts him at night to complain about James and his "bitchy attitude", he sends him funny memes before Ian has to run across campus to the two classes he absolutely dispises, and on the rare days when Ian comes in way too late from practice, muscles aching, exhausted beyond measure, Mickey always has some type of food waiting for him.

Yet, Ian doesn't say anything. He knows Mickey is gay. That's not the problem.

The problem is that Mickey is a RA. And, technically, all these gestures that he makes for Ian fall under the umbrella of a helpful RA. Through his rough, sorry not sorry, attitude, Mickey is a great RA and he actually gives a shit about his residents, even James.

So, yeah, Ian stays quiet about his infatuation for his RA.

Or, at least he does until October, when he's interrupted from his studying by a familiar, obnoxious banging on his door.

He yells out that it's open and just who he expects steps into his room.

"Hey, Mands. What's up?"

She kicks the door shut and glares at him. Ian feels a fear he's never experienced before slide down his back. "What-"

"Are you retarded?"

"Excuse me?"

"Are. You. Retarded?"

Honestly, Ian's a bit offended. "No."

Mandy crosses her arms and nods. "Then are you blind?"

Alright. That's it.

"Okay, Mandy. I don't know what your deal is but-"

"𝘔𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭!?" She practically screeches in his face. "My 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 is 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. My brother likes you. He does all of these things for you to prove it and show he's interested, and yet I find out that you're going on a date with some meat head from my chemistry lab this Halloween? What the hell, Ian?"

"Mickey? Hold on, Mickey likes me?"

"Yes! God, you are 𝘴𝘰 dumb!"

Ian agrees, perhaps he is. "I just thought he was doing all that stuff because he's my RA."

Mandy scoffs, but her posture softens. "My brother half-asses his RA responsibilities just enough so they won't pull it from him." She sits down next to Ian on his bed. "Feelings are hard for him. Whenever he experiences them or voices them, all he gets is disappointment. His ex, his so-called best friend from high school... our father..."

Ian stays quiet. He doesn't know much about Mandy and Mickey's dad but he knows enough to shut his mouth.

It's a solid minute and a half before she continues. "He deserves to have someone be kind to him for once. To love and to be loved in return. Doesn't everyone deserve that? At least once in this shitty life?"

He nods, because, yeah, everyone does deserve that. And Ian knows that let down. He knows how it feels, he knows how it tastes. How it can stew within you and ruin every good thing you come across.

"Yeah, of course."

"You remember back when we first met? When I asked you if you were single? If you had been in a relationship or straight, I would have taken you two floors down, where my boyfriend is a RA. Instead, I took your gay, single, lost puppy looking ass to my brother."

Ian doesn't know what to say to that. Imagine if his fear from that day had won out and he had never met Mickey? That thought alone physically pains him.

His cellphone lands in his lap. "Text him. Now. And cancel your other date. Halloween is Mickey's favorite holiday."

He just grins. "Yeah, I know."

As Mandy lets herself out, mumbling about how clueless men are, Ian opens up his and Mickey's message thread. He takes a deep breath and takes a leap. Hopeful he'll land safely in solid arms attached to tattooed knuckles.

He types:

"Are you free on Halloween?"

#not beta'd we die like Sammi should have #this has no plot #but I wrote it so #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #mandy milkovich #college au #a.u.gust 2023 #auds writes #auds does canva #ficlet #less than 2500 words

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chaerybae · 3 months

Text

take a picture now – shin yuna of itzy 𓆩❤𓆪

synopsis: after you requested a room change, you were put in the last available dorm. just one problem... you can't figure out your new roommate. does she want to be close to you? or does she want to vaporize you on the spot?

cast: yuna, ryujin of itzy, haewon of nmixx, lily of nmixx

genre: roommates, enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, college au

wc: 2.9k || warnings: cursing, eating/food, yuna is just a little mean

a/n: this is my first fic here! feedback is welcome :D also might make a part 2 more about the photos later. lmk if you’d read that!

“Are you sure this is the right room?”

“I’m sure, Lily. Do you think Seungmin would mark the wrong dorm?”

“Ye-”

“Oh, just come on!”

You and Lily were bringing your belongings into a new dorm, part of your escape from Ryujin, your former roommate who just had to bring her pet spiders to college with her. Now don’t be mistaken, you love Ryujin, after all, she persuaded Yuna to let you move in with her. Although, it’s not like Yuna had much of a choice.

Yuna had been given a two-person dorm, even though she wasn’t assigned a roommate. Seungmin, the ra, had told Yuna someone might move into her dorm last minute, but she was willing to take the dorm for the luxurious possibility of solo living. After hearing about your predicament from both Ryujin and Seungmin, she had two choices: let you become her roommate or get rid of Ryujin’s tarantulas. And it’s not like the latter would happen anytime soon.

At midnight, your best friends had finally gone back to their own dorms. Only five minutes later, Yuna herself arrived, probably coming from hanging out with her own friends, it was a Friday after all. She looked perfect, like she had just come back from the salon. Although if you looked closer, you would have seen the exhaustion in her eyes.

“Hi, Yuna! I’m your new roommate. Ryujin probably told you about me alre-”

She had walked straight to her room and closed the door before you could even finish speaking.

~𓆩❤𓆪

If you’ve learned anything about Yuna in the past month and a half it’s that she’s an art major, and you don’t need to ask her to know (even though, in an effort to have a real conversation with her, you did ask about her major). With the Halloween season fast approaching, Yuna had already decked out your dorm in the latest Halloween fashions, while looking the happiest that you had ever seen her.

She even spoke to you without a scowl on her face as she started to carve mini pumpkins on the kitchen counter. You took this as a sign.

“Could I… carve one?”

“A pumpkin?”

“Yea. If you don’t mind.”

“No no! Here take this one.”

Maybe she just really liked Halloween. Yuna had rarely spoken to you like this before, with a huge smile on her face. It was probably because her pumpkin was turning out really cute, but you pretended that your roommate was smiling because you had finally made her happy enough to be around you for more than five minutes.

You and Yuna began to talk more, run errands together, and you even started to eat breakfast together before morning classes. If anybody saw you two skipping to the convenience store after late study nights, they wouldn’t be able to tell that your friendship was nonexistent a couple weeks prior. But they would be able to see the way you clung to her– with your eyes, with your hands that were trying to hold onto her arm. They would see the way she avoided your gaze, and the way you eventually just put your hands in your pockets, choosing to simply walk by her side.

~𓆩❤𓆪

Finally, the long awaited day you two had been preparing for arrived, but your roommate was nowhere to be found. Yuna had left early Halloween morning and you hadn’t seen her all day. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit disappointed. Looking at the paper bats hung in the living room made you wish that you could turn back time and carve pumpkins with her again. You had spent so long moping around your living room that Haewon and Lily almost kicked down your door before dragging you to their dorm to have a movie marathon.

When Yuna finally came back from Yeji’s place, she was surprised to find the dorm empty. She crashed onto her bed immediately, too tired to question why she correlated the emptiness of the dorm to your absence, instead of the living room's pitch-darkness.

The next morning, Yuna exited her room to find your room closed. She guessed that you had come back from your friends’ dorm after she had fallen asleep. Yuna knew her flurry of morning preparation might wake you up. Did she feel a little sorry? Maybe. But she had begun to grow used to walking to class with you, and how could she do that if you were sleeping? After ten minutes of Yuna sitting in the kitchen alone, you finally walked into the kitchen. The way Yuna’s face lit up when you appeared was a complete contrast to the cold-shoulder Yuna of early September. Surprised flashed across your face when you saw her smiling at you, only to be quickly replaced with a pink flush and a shy smile of your own.

“Do you want to get breakfast with me?”

“As in … going somewhere?”

“Well, just the vending machine.”

“Oh, well… lead the way!”

Yuna ended up following you as you skipped down the hall with your tote bag to the vending machine. To Yuna, it had begun to feel like she was actually living with you, instead of just living in the room next to yours. But to you, your friendship still felt… incomplete. As Yuna put your soon-to-be shared three packs of poptarts in her bag and pulled you into the elevator, you wondered if you were beginning to over-analyze things.

You decided that you could forget the way that you wanted to hold her hand as Yuna pulled you by the wrist, like she always did when she decided you were walking too slowly. Maybe you walked slowly on purpose, but she didn’t need to know that. It's not like you wanted to spend more time with her or anything. Now outside her department’s building, the absence of Yuna’s hand on your wrist snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Can you drive me to the museum later? Ryujin’s busy, and well…”

“You failed your driver’s test… again?”

“… I’ll buy you dinner after.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll see you after your last lecture then.”

She let out a little scream of excitement. “Thanks a million, babe,” Yuna turned to walk into the building, “what would I do without you?”

Yuna walked slowly through the building’s door, so she could turn back around at the last second to watch you walk into the library on the other side of the street. She had meant what she said, fuck the solo living shit she told herself over the summer, if you hadn’t become her roommate Yuna would have been dreadfully lonely. And, of course, she wouldn’t have gotten to know you outside of being Ryujin’s friend.

Now, she woke up earlier so you had more time to walk together. Now, she stayed home more often, so you could go out together on the weekends. At one point, Yuna had even wished she shared your major so you could have classes together.

Oh, but what could a girl do? It seemed that this girl could only survive the day's classes and wait for you to pick her up for your museum trip.

While Yuna suffered through art history lectures, you suffered, not from the increasingly boring textbook sitting in front of you, but from your own internal dilemma. The two of you were alike in thoughts and feelings.

You had long abandoned your studying in favor of overthinking. Friends always walked to school together right? Maybe some did. Roommates drove each other around town right? That’s normal friend behavior. Roommates overthink all their past interactions with their roommate before it’s even 9am right? Probably not… Friends who call each other “babe” think about it hours after the fact right? No… oh. oh.

~𓆩❤𓆪

Neither of you mentioned their thoughts to the other. And regardless of your inner turmoil, you happily drove Yuna to the museum, the latest hits blasting on the way. The museum was within walking distance. You didn’t even know why Yuna needed someone to drive her. But you’re willing to ignore that, after all you’re getting some time with Yuna outside of your now outdated Halloween dorm.

Once in the galleries, you were really questioning why Yuna asked you to come along. The only thing worth looking at, in your completely unbiased opinion, was Yuna. These strange paintings were really not your cup of tea. Your feet hurt from walking through the same few exhibits in the back of the museum. Your head hurt from all the talking children, middle-aged people muttering nonsense, and all of your own thoughts. Worst of all, Yuna didn’t even pay attention to you, only speaking to ask for your opinion on the pictures she was diligently taking. You guessed she had an assignment to do, being an art major or whatever, but–

“I can see you out of the corner of my eye, you know. Why aren’t you appreciating the art?”

“What do you mean?” you knew you had been caught staring.

“You’ve only been looking at me.”

“You're prettier than these paintings…” you whispered to yourself.

Yuna faced away from you, unsuccessfully trying to contain her blush. “You can look at me later…” Her blush must’ve been contagious, since you became quite rosy as well.

Needless to say, you two left the museum ten minutes later. You walked next to Yuna and got in your car, all while avoiding eye contact. “Do you want to get dinner now?” Yuna said, breaking the silence. You had completely forgotten about the promise of dinner, since that’s obviously not why you agreed to drive Yuna in the first place. “Yeah, where do you want to eat?”

~𓆩❤𓆪

By the time dinner was over and you and Yuna were back in the car, the awkward air had left, and been replaced by a different feeling. Dinner had consisted of both of you making small talk, that occasionally delved into deeper topics like your classmates or the strange freshmen in the dorm below yours. Not awkward, but not quite comfortable. You could feel that Yuna had something to say, and questions to ask, but neither of you said anything of importance on the trip back to your dorm.

Once the door was locked, you headed straight for the kitchen, sitting down on top of the counter. Maybe it was stress eating, but you told yourself that you just needed a little treat for being normal around your roommate today. You devoured a pack of oreos as Yuna opened her computer on the other side of the kitchen island.

“What were the pictures for?” you said, anxious to keep the somewhat meaningless conversation alive in the weird atmosphere.

“It's an assignment for Professor Hwang,” she replied, like she was asking a question, “we're doing a special unit on contemporary paintings soon, so– um– we need pictures of our favorites for the next unit.”

Flustered Yuna was cute. But Yuna getting flustered over being asked about paintings? Still cute, but strange.

“I'm going to take a shower. It's already 11, and I have an 8am tomorrow,” Yuna hastily said. She left so quickly that she forgot about her laptop, leaving it open on the counter in front of you. And upon the closing of the bathroom door, you got up to take a look.

I'm not being nosy at all! I'm just looking to see… oh.

The picture left on the screen was a beautifully photographed painting, but a different folder was also opened. And the majority of the other pictures in the folder weren't paintings. How had you never noticed? In that folder, there were more pictures of you than you could count. You lean over the kitchen counter, curled up on the couch, posing next to one of your pumpkins, in the hallway, mid-bite into a poptart. You walking to the campus library… driving your car… and you, in the museum, staring at the floor with a subtle smile on your face. You closed the computer, quickly turning around to resume stress eating your oreos. Those last couple of pictures were taken today? How had you not noticed, when you were staring at her the whole time?

Do friends take pictures of each other while they're driving? While they're absentmindedly staring at the museum floors? No. But you already knew that. All you had to do was find out if Yuna knew that too, if only you could find the courage to take that risk.

~𓆩❤𓆪

Yuna thought she understood you. So why were you acting so unlike yourself? Did you lose your taste for vending machine poptarts? Or, even worse, were you bored of her company?

No! Yuna wouldn't allow herself to think like that. You had begun to leave earlier for school, leaving her to walk to class by herself. Yuna treated the occasional dinner with you like a blessing from heaven, but, even though you two shared a dorm, she was still seeing less and less of you. But she always knew that one day you might get bored, that you'd drift away before Yuna could tell you–

“You know, I don't think they would ever want to stop being friends with you, Yuna.” Her thoughts faded as Ryujin, a totally certified relationship expert and best friend, talked away. Yuna had gone to Ryujin’s to get her dilemma out of her head and into words, so the two were having a sleepover. The beloved spiders that had triggered this whole affair were in a terrarium behind the two.

“You really think so?”

“I know so. Why don’t you just ask them why they've been spending less time with you! Or better yet, tell them about your absolutely enormous crus–”

“I do not! I only see them as a friend!!” Liar.

“Being louder doesn't make you right. Go to sleep and just talk to them tomorrow.”

Yuna fell asleep, knowing her last words of the day were a complete lie. But she would only admit Ryujin was right after she went home to you and tried to do something about it.

~𓆩❤𓆪

You were asleep, after all it was Saturday, and the fact that it was past 2pm was irrelevant. As it had been for the past several weeks, Yuna was not in the dorm. She was probably at Ryujin’s again; she never seemed to be home anymore.

But as you poured yourself a cup of orange juice in the kitchen, Yuna walked in.

“I have something to tell you.”

“You're not at Ryujin’s?”

“Well, I was yesterday, but um- I wanted to talk to you before you left…”

“We don't have school on Saturdays, Yuna.”

“Oh… right.”

Well, this was getting awkward. You put away the orange juice, all while trying to maintain eye contact with Yuna. The girl across from you desperately looked anywhere that wasn't you, finally setting her eyes on a lone pack of oreos.

Yuna moved to sit on the counter, eating oreos as she waited for something to happen, for you to say something so she wouldn't have to.

“Weren't you the one who wanted to tell me something?”

Oh right. Great job, Yuna.

“Yeah, well um- I just wanted to ask you why you've been… avoiding me. Did I do something or… do you not want to be friends anymore?”

You moved closer to her with every word, trying to come up with a response, until you were close enough to grab an oreo yourself. Yuna’s words got slower and quieter the more she said. You were motionless, stuck at what couldn't have been more than an inch away from her face.

But it's not like you just wanted to see her up close. Liar. It's not like you wanted to be this close to her all the time. Another lie. Or like you wanted to feel her lips on your forehead. Your cheeks. Your-

Lips. Yuna grabbed the front of your shirt and kissed you.

It was quick, but it was enough to make you blush profusely. But before you could even say anything, Yuna had ran out of the kitchen, with bright red ears, to sit on the sofa.

“Yuna…,” you said quietly, after walking over to Yuna and sitting on the floor so you could see her face. “Come on, babe. You can’t just run away after you do something like that.”

Her ears turned redder, if that was even possible, and she looked at you through her fingers, not moving from her place on the couch. You got up from the floor and took a seat next to her, wrapping your left arm around her shoulders to get her to face you.

“I have something to tell you too.”

“Oh… what is it?”

You smiled softly at her, cheeks still flushed from Yuna’s kiss, her lipstick could be seen on your lips. It only made her cover her face to hide her blushing cheeks more. You were definitely riding the high from finally kissing her, but this confidence boost wasn’t going to last forever. You took a deep breath and forced the words out of your throat.

“Does this mean you’ll let our next dinner date be an actual date?”

“What?”

Another deep breath. “Let me take you out on a date, Yuna.”

At this, Yuna finally took her hands off her face, putting them on yours instead, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Safe to say that’s a yes,” you said through giggles.

“That’s a yes.”

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

Note

How are dorms different? Pupils take the same lessons, so why is it so important? Maybe it was stated in the beginning but…

Oooh, thank you for the super interesting topic of discussion! 👀

To begin with, there are superficial differences such as valuing a certain trait or looking up to a specific figure in the Great Seven over the others. (For example, students of Scarabia revere the Sorcerer of the Sands, who was known for his mindfulness it seems that the students try to uphold that mindful spirit.) Let's also keep in mind that each dorm itself is a unique setting with its own vibes and history! Additionally, we know of a few traits that dorm members generally share or talents that students of a particular dorm have:

Heartslabyul has nothing of note that I can recall 😅

Savanaclaw tends to have athletic students. Because of this, they dominate in sporting events and competitions.

Octavinelle and Scarabia are said to have very intelligent students; they are often competing with each other for the top marks. Scarabia's students tend to excel in astrology.

Pomefiore produces students that are skilled in curses and potion-making; one of the requirements to become Pomefiore's dorm leader is brewing a potent poison. Generally, Pomefiore students put forth considerable effort to maintain their looks and their manners.

Ignihyde's students tend to be introverted and geeky; they also work well with technology.

Diasomnia usually receives the magical all-rounders or those particularly gifted with magic. However, their students also tend to be extremely arrogant and think of themselves as better than students of the other dorms.

Beyond the details I just listed, I don't think the dorms are honestly that different (based on the information we have right now). The short and simple (and meta) answer to your question would be that the dorms exist because "it makes the game easier to market". Breaking a large cast into smaller groups with easily identifiable traits and color coding makes the characters stick in the mind better. (The almost immediate cultural association with a certain popular magic school with dorms that are heavily centered around certain traits is also sure to draw comparisons, and thus make TWST blow up by that association and word of mouth.)

Buuut that’s not a very exciting response, now is it? 🤔 Well, here’s my take (I’m basing this on my understanding of how public and private high schools, as well as some colleges/institutions of higher learning operate):

It’s not unusual for a boarding school like Night Raven College to have several different dormitories to house their students. Dorms are usually overseen by an RA (Resident Assistants), someone who also lives in said dorm and manages issues contained within it. The purpose of a dormitory is just to house students while they study, so technically it’s just... a glorified living space. Dorms in real life often aren’t often as segmented and defined by traits as NRC’s are; they’re usually named after some rich person that offered a sizable donation to the school or some important alumnus (though there ARE some dorms specifically for students of a similar major or broad organization to live together). In NRC’s case, the dorms are based on important figures: the Great Seven. It just so happens that the Great Seven are associated with certain traits, and so those trickled down into each dorm, as each was modelled after one member of the Seven. And, of course, the RA equivalent at NRC is the title of dorm leader.

From what I understand of NRC’s history, Pomefiore is considered the oldest dorm; this would imply that NRC did not start with seven dorms, because otherwise they would all be roughly the same in age. The logical sequence of events (to me) is that NRC was originally just a single dorm (Pomefiore), but as it grew over the years and gained prestige for itself, it had to expand to new dorms just to deal with the growing student population--and since Pomefiore honored the Beautiful Queen, why not look to the other six of the Seven for the other dorms? ... Then NRC probably capped off its enrollment so it could focus on educating the students their staff could handle.

Then we need to consider that the dorms may have formed over time just because... well, have you SEEN how NRC students behave? They’ll throw fists at a moment’s notice. Grouping them up by similar traits may help to alleviate the fights that break out on campus; when you’re part of a group and living with like-minded individuals, it can minimize conflicts (but unfortunately, it has the potential side effect of isolating students from those with different views than them, which is probably why they continue to have mixed classes to up the exposure).

With the practicality of dorms sorted out, let’s now look to how the dorms may impact the students’ academic and professional lives.

I noticed that the Anon mentioned, “Pupils take the same lessons, so why [are dorms] so important?” That’s an interesting question to pose because we actually don’t know a ton about NRC’s curriculum or their tracks of study 🤔 I’m guessing that this conclusion was reached because the gameplay of TWST (Alchemy, Flying, Magic History) has mixed classes, but I believe that the gameplay is not reflective of the classes the characters actually take because it would contradict the lore given to us elsewhere. For example, in the ongoing Glorious Masquerade event, it is said that second years taking Magic History learn about the Just Judge (which explains why the first years are not familiar with him yet). It is also said (this time in the main story) that first year classes focus on theory rather than doing actual magic, which is reserved for later years. I’m sure there are a lot more examples I could think of, but these two alone effectively illustrate why it wouldn’t make sense to toss students of different grade levels into most of the same classes.

It hasn’t been confirmed whether all pupils take the exact same coursework; in fact, I’d actually argue the opposite is true. I believe that there is a set of “base” or foundational coursework (like Magic History, Alchemy, and Flying) that every student is required to take to graduate; these subjects would be like the equivalent of math, English, history, and science in the real world. These would be “on level” (ie everyone in the same year takes the same class). However, just like in the real world, I think that every student has the opportunity to customize their track via electives so they can pursue their specific interests after high school. These are the classes that would be mixed, as there are instances (irl) of accelerated younger students having already met the prerequisites for more advanced classes. A notable example of a NRC elective is Poison Making, which appears to be an upper level Potionology course; in Cater’s Lab Wear vignettes, it is revealed that Cater, Vil, and Lilia are enrolled in it. Master Chef/Culinary Crucibles is another major example, as it seems to be an elective that students can take to prepare them for making their own meals and taking care of their nutritional needs after graduation.

Typically, the way you choose electives is broken down into different priorities. Older students and students in honors programs tend to get first pick over younger students (who still need to complete prerequisite courses) and non-honors students (who usually have less rigorous coursework). Additionally (in the case of colleges and universities), priority for certain classes may be given to students of a particular major. As an example, life science courses like biology and anatomy and physiology may have more slots for premed majors and other majors directly related to the life sciences before like... a journalism major may have a chance for the same courses. This is because it’s more important for students of certain majors to get their requires coursework done other students interested in taking a course due to individual interest.

“... Okay, that’s all fine and dandy, but what does this have to do with the importance of the dorms?”

Weeell... If we consider all of the previously discussed information as a whole, isn’t it possible that the dorms could actually factor into the students’ future prospects??

Like... think about it.

Each dorm is already designed from the get-go to focus on specific traits and skills, such that is it easy to immediately identify what the strengths of a person may be based SOLELY on glancing at the armband color they have. Then add in how electives are chosen. If you’re already sorting the students into dorms that define what their strengths may be, wouldn’t it make sense to give those students... priority for classes which will further improve those strengths (ie give a Pomefiore student, already presumed to be skilled in potions-making, priority for the Poisons Making elective course)?

And what about their mandatory fourth year internships? I’m assuming the hiring companies will want the best people for the jobs, but it may be difficult for them to parse through so many resumes. They could very well use dorms to help filter through applications, as some dorms are more well-versed in some subjects over others. (I realize that this disregards individual differences and sounds unfair on paper, but this is, unfortunately, sometimes the reality of the job hunt process.) Alternatively, NRC could use the specific traits each dorm boasts to help “sell” their students to employers for internship opportunities (ie NRC to a potion making company: “Pomefiore’s students are skilled at making potions, just like the Beautiful Queen!”).

Finally, let’s talk connections. If dormitories really do play a role in future prospects as I just described, then it means each dorm has a whole network of alumni in fields of specialization which can perpetuate the cycle. Picture a Pomefiore NRC graduate that goes on to start their own Magic Pharmaceuticals company, then their alma mater contacts them to ask about sending some interns their way. The graduate is more likely to say yes, and even more so to students of their same old dorm because the Pomefiore graduate already has established loyalty to said dorm.

Anyway...! I know that was a lot to take in, but I hope I was able to explain my thoughts well enough 😅 I kind of got excited when I saw this ask, so my fingers were struggling to properly type out all the speculation and ideas I had running around in my brain.

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foxhopfics · 21 days

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Jason Todd as a Fox instead of a Bat

Request for anon! I took a little bit to turn this over in my brain because the timeline for aftg is so tight and Jason's timelines are... All over the place. So for reference purposes, I'm calling this an AU where after coming back from the Lazarus pit, he was still trained by Ra's Al Ghul and Talia, however instead of returning to Gotham to become the Red Hood, he takes a detour, quits his life of crime, and signs up for exy. (It's a bit of a stretch but I think I make it work. This also lowkey made me end up shipping Kevin and Jason) I'm putting this under a readmore because it accidentally got SUPER long

Jason was first introduced to exy as a pastime sport the trainees from the league of assassins would play. It's good for endurance training, muscle building, etc. etc. and it seemed like a good outlet, so he gave it a shot

His portfolio, much like Neil's, came in the form of a video. He copied and stole the security camera footage from the court they used.

As he gets more into exy he also starts to learn about the teams that are out there and kind of realizes he's not doomed to a life of crime. He can escape this, if he's smart.

And the Foxes are an underdog team. Not many eyes will be on them, so it will be easier to remain hidden if anyone comes looking for him.

The next week, he gets an acceptance email from the school, and a "welcome to the team, see you in a month!" message from a man named David Wymack

(Little did Jason know David would become more of a father to him than Bruce ever was.)

Things aren't exactly rough when he gets there, but he's definitely lived in more pleasant places. The dorm rooms are just fine by him, but the other members of the exy team make him jumpy

Most of them ignore him at first, and he kindly reciprocates.

They get along well enough in practice, Jason preferring to use his larger stature to play a good, solid defense. He's great at planting himself in the way of the oncoming strikers, and they always underestimate his speed because of his size.

(He was always taught to defend and protect, after all...)

It's not until about the events of TFC when Neil starts to bring the team together that Jason really starts to get to know everyone. Kind of reluctantly, since he was happy being on his own with a provided cover story.

But Neil pushes and he gives like a broken dam. There's still that little kid somewhere stuck in there that wishes someone would just care for him.

Eventually he starts to open up on his own to the others, ending up really connecting with Kevin. Kevin and him were both raised by men who wanted the best from them, expected no less, and met disappointment with hard, frozen stairs.

Jason could count on his fingers the times Bruce had smiled at him or told him "good job". Kevin couldn't even name one time the Moriyamas ever did.

And as he opens up he begins to see his family in the faces of his new friends. He sees the bubbly positivity in Nicky that reminds him of Steph. He's hearing the same logical calculations that Tim would make come from Aaron's mouth instead. He sees Dick in every move Matt makes, both of them born for teamwork and support. He sees a flicker of Renee out of the corner of his eye and for a second can swear it's Cass.

While he tells him the things that have happened to them, they're met with stunned silence. But honestly, Jason is grateful for everyone to accept it and go, considering Neil's past is still chasing him. Jason's isn't, at least, not right now

It's not until after the first time Kevin and Jason end up in bed together and they're both shirtless that it really hits them both how fucked up they are. Both their bodies are littered with scars and old injuries.

But there is love and care in healing damaged things and Kevin traces his fingers along the angry lichtenberg scars left by the Lazarus pit.

Anyway they are shortly interrupted by the mob coming after Neil and Jason is basically like "jesus i could take care of this in 0.5 seconds but im not a murderer anymore and Matt has accidentally instilled a moral compass in me"

and then Neil gets fucking KIDNAPPED? and everyone gets roughed up by the crowed and gets taken to the hospital except for Jason who actually kept track of Neil during all this madness knowing there were literal people coming for him and his Vigilante Senses turned on.

NYWAY he tracks Neil to Nathan's hideout and he's basically the one who called it in because he's used to having to do such things from his time as Robin.

Basically Jason would take the place of Neil's uncle because where the fuck did HE even come from and this works better imo.

I decided I didn't want Jason to change much in the story because with his past and ESPECIALLY his time in the league of assassins, he could very easily become an OP Deus Ex Machina instead of a character in a story with ups and downs. But this also made me want to a) rewrite the whole series but i do NOT have time to do that. but also b) i may end up writing a more in depth fic about Jason and Kevin and if that accidentally evolves into a series then WHOOPS! Anyway hope you enjoyed!

#dc #jason todd #red hood #aftg #all for the game #kevin day #tfc #the foxhole court #FT: headcanons

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sub-zeromoron · 1 month

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Tatsumayo fic: Locks (Between My Fingertips)

General audiences, fluff, mentions of Christianity (Tatsumi)

~1.3k words

Summary:

"Would you like me to dry your hair?" Tatsumi suddenly offers. He himself is surprised at the words.

"N-no, I am capable of doing it myself-! I don’t want to get my filth on you!"

Tatsumi lets out another awkward chuckle, his brow wrinkling. "Mayoi-san, I want to." He truly does, he realizes. Mayoi's hair is very silky and smooth, it's evident that he takes good care of it.

"I, um..." Mayoi fidgets with more fervor now. "I g-guess you may..."

Tatsumi stops by Mayoi's dorm to try to ease him into interacting with him.

You can it read below the cut or on ao3 !!

Tatsumi had always found Mayoi to be a gorgeous person, even when he had merely caught slight glimpses of his face. But as he got the opportunity to interact with him more, he started to notice less obvious things, such as the way his cheekbones flush a wonderfully rosy pink as he denies a compliment he thinks he doesn't deserve and the way his face lights up around his juniors.

It was endearing, really. Tatsumi had grown up being taught that every living being was fearfully and wonderfully made, and Mayoi's unfortunate inferiority complex was a chance to spread this teaching. However, it was proving difficult to get him to believe it despite the constant flow of reassurances made towards him. Mayoi remains skittish, even now.

Mayoi refuses to accept compliments and sees himself as an unholy creature. Tatsumi wants to fix this, which means that he must devote time to spend with him. Not that he minds at all. Part of him is desperate to be around Mayoi, for reasons he can't quite place.

The perfect situation has arisen, though, after the members of ALKALOID were moved to separate dorms: Mayoi's roommate, Tomoya Mashiro was out for some event that Ra*bits was performing at. This allows Tatsumi to interact with Mayoi outside of practice while not disturbing his peers (though Mayoi has mentioned a lack of interaction with his roommate, it seems to Tatsumi that the both of them are too awkward to try to work things out.)

The only problem is that Mayoi did not know that Tatsumi plans to visit. This becomes evident when he knocks on the door, earning a high-pitched yelp of surprise from inside the dorm. Tatsumi lets out a concerned laugh, then speaks. "Mayoi-san? It's just me, Tatsumi," he reassures softly, yet with enough volume to be heard. "May I come in?"

After several drawn-out seconds of fumbling on the inside, a very disheveled-looking Mayoi peeks through the crack of the door with wide, questioning eyes. His long, damp hair was hastily tied in a messy bun. The little locks of hair dripped water on his dark grey v-neck, indicating that Tatsumi had most likely walked in while Mayoi was drying off. Mayoi's sputtering draws Tatsumi out of his train of thought. "T-Tatsumi-san! I am so sorry for appearing so indecent, I-"

"No need to worry about it, you are not indecent." Tatsumi offers him a warm smile.

Mayoi opens the door, then takes a few hesitant steps back to allow Tatsumi to enter the dorm after removing his shoes. He mumbles a few incoherent things before looking back at Tatsumi, then shrinks away from the eye contact he had accidentally made.

"Would you like me to dry your hair?" Tatsumi suddenly offers. He himself is surprised at the words.

"N-no, I am capable of doing it myself-! I don’t want to get my filth on you!"

Tatsumi lets out another awkward chuckle, his brow wrinkling. "Mayoi-san, I want to." He truly does, he realizes. Mayoi's hair is very silky and smooth, it's evident that he takes good care of it.

"I, um..." Mayoi fidgets with more fervor now. "I g-guess you may..."

Tatsumi smiles, placing his hand on the small of Mayoi's back, and guides him to his bed. Mayoi's bed was made neatly, and the red and gold embroidered blanket draped smoothly over the mattress. "I know where the hair dryer is kept, please sit down." Mayoi offers him a hesitant nod before watching tatsumi walk off.

All the Seishou Hall dorms were structured similarly, and Tatsumi assumed that the hairdryer in this dorm would have been stored in the same place as it was in his own dorm that he shared with Koga Ogami. He was correct, fortunately. He pulls the hair dryer out of the drawer, the cord neatly coiled about the handle.

Tatsumi finds Mayoi still perched on the bed, perking up upon seeing Tatsumi. After plugging the cord into the outlet, he kneels on the bed behind Mayoi and unclips his bun, allowing the damp hair to cascade down his back. Tatsumi then turns the dryer on warm so that he won't burn Mayoi's scalp or ears.

Mayoi relaxes into the warm air, letting out an audible sigh of euphoria. Tatsumi gently threads his fingers through his hair, which causes a slight jolt from Mayoi accompanied by a soft whimper. "Relax, Mayoi-san, you know I don't intend to harm you."

"S-sorry."

After Mayoi's body relaxes again, Tatsumi resumes gently combing out his hair with his fingers, separating out thin layers to dry it more efficiently.

Tatsumi turns the hair dryer off after gently finishing the roots. He notices the sleek deep gray ribbon on the nightstand, prompting him to ask about it.

“I assume you would braid your hair to protect it from breaking, yes?”

“Yes, and to keep it out of my face,” Mayoi replies softly. “Is there a reason you asked?” He looks back at Tatsumi, still visibly nervous. The angle accentuates the mole under his lower lip. Tatsumi wonders how Mayoi might react to it being touched. He flushes as he realizes that he ought not to be having these kinds of thoughts.

“Well, I was curious,” Tatsumi chuckles, reaching for the ribbon. “Would you allow me to try it?”

“I think it’s fine if you do…” The hesitation in Mayoi’s voice is subtle, but Tatsumi doesn’t comment on it. He figures that Mayoi is still adjusting to the sensation of being touched. This will be good for him.

Tatsumi begins to detangle Mayoi’s hair, and now that it’s dry, he can feel just how soft and healthy it is. He separates it into 3 sections and then begins to intertwine them through his fingers. Mayoi’s eyes flutter shut as he does so, seemingly finding comfort in the sensation. Tatsumi can’t stop the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth upon noticing this.

Tatsumi then finishes the braid, which is loose but still neat. He secures it with the ribbon tied in a little bow, then pats Mayoi’s shoulders to signal that he’s done.

Mayoi turns to face him. “T-thank you, Tatsumi-san.” Mayoi’s slender fingers trace the braid, letting it fall over his right shoulder. His eyes sparkle slightly with a sense of flusteredness.

“It’s no problem, I enjoyed spending time with you.” Tatsumi rises to his feet. “Well, it’s getting late, so I ought to let you rest.” He begins to walk away.

But Mayoi grabs his hand. He pulls Tatsumi a little closer, then suddenly presses a hasty and brief peck to his lips. Upon realizing what he’s done, Mayoi nearly trips as he shuffles backward, letting out some incoherent apologies that Tatsumi isn’t processing due to his shock.

“I’m sorry! You must hate me, this goes against your religion, doesn’t it?! Aah, I’m such a horrid, filthy bug!”

“I-It’s quite alright…I’m not upset,” Tatsumi stammers. He doesn’t know what to do. He’d grown up being taught that such an act would be a sin, but he didn’t feel upset. In fact, Tatsumi quite liked it.

But this didn’t mean Mayoi was any less distraught. He takes his hands, his thumbs gently gliding over the back of them. Mayoi gives him a wide-eyed stare. “I’m not angry,” he reassures. “Listen to me, okay?” Tatsumi’s tone is soft and comforting. “While I need some time to process, I’m not outright rejecting you. I do not think God would want his followers to reject anyone because they are different.”

“Okay,” Mayoi replies breathily. He’s no longer trembling, which gladdens Tatsumi.

“And I would love to do this again. I find comfort in taking care of you.”

Mayoi blushes more than he already was. Tatsumi loves seeing this, the color brilliantly compliments Mayoi’s eye color. It makes him look delicate.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at practice.” An impulsive kiss is pressed to Mayoi’s forehead, which causes another bout of sputtering to erupt behind Tatsumi as he departs with a smile.

#enstars #ensemble stars #mayoi ayase #tatsumi kazehaya #tatsumayo #fridge writes

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versaceeevixen · 2 months

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Seven Stages of... Becoming an RA Pt 1

I was so excited I got an email saying "RA Offer." I ran from my bedroom and told my Mother. I was so excited because I tried the year prior and did not get in. I told one of my friends from the Lazer Tag Boys, I wanted to share the news. My friend's first response was...

"What dorm?"

"Skywalk." I said.

"Boo you whore." They groaned

After the news spread of me becoming an RA, my new nickname became The Opp. I was isolated from my friends because we all lived in the same dorm, and I moved to the new dorm building. My side of the hall that I was in charge of was quiet, no one interacted with each-other. It was post lockdowns, and our college had a silly rule that didn't make sense when you really think about it. We couldn't have outside visitors from other dorm buildings but you could interact with each other in your own dorm building, academic buildings, and student center.

So what did we do?

The Lazer Tag Boys were schemers, who schemed a scam of scanning IDs. They would drop an ID from an open window; then the person who wanted to get in would wear a hoodie and a mask concealing their face. The door people would let them in. The Lazer Tag Boys would let in multiple people in using two to three cards for like eight people who wanted to get in.

What I did was go in the 24 hour Science building and my friend Richie and I would look at weird Youtube videos. While I was sleep deprived, and Richie was high as a kite at 1 a.m.

youtube

** I remember when me and Richie watched this and it took him 20 minutes to figure out that it was looped and over four hours long he still never forgives me for letting him watch the ending to this lol. **

Still I was isolated, I barely knew anyone on my floor except for my old suite mates from my first semester of Freshman year. These two suite mates who fought with each other, because one person couldn't keep the bathroom clean. The bathroom was utterly filthy and an extreme biohazard, if I really described what I saw I would get reported for cyberbullying on Tumblr. And then there was Matt who lived across from me...

He was my stalker, he invited me into his dorm saying he had a whole bottle of some cheapo vodka to himself and that he wanted to share with me. Bloody Ruby Woo Dorothy's Slippers Scarlet Letter Red Flag, I declined his seedy offer. He would not stop bothering me after he invited me, I ignored him after that.

Matt would constantly get locked out! I was so scared one time he got locked out of his room, that he might push me in his room and do who knows what. Our dorm rooms had a tiny 4x4 hallway that had three doors, two leading to the actual room and one to the bathroom. He got locked out of his bedroom and I was so scared because there are no cameras in the room. They call it paranoid, I call it prepared.

He kept begging me to go out with him and I declined. I told one of my RA co-workers at the time about this. She was an art major, and lived on the lower levels of the building. She was a sister figure I was always trying to search for, a friend I was hoping to have. Her catchphrases was "You should pull your cards.! Bring your cards.!" She would always ask my tarot cards about her romantic woes. She slept with her resident(s). One of her resident's had a girlfriend who went to our rival school, the less diverse version of our school people swore was "better".

** My tarot card spread on my bed **

The same resident who had a girlfriend turned to me and asked me for my number... I declined. I told "Big Sis" that I was on Girl Code and I didn't want to talk to someone that my friend (Her) was messing around with. She laughed in my face and waved her hand dismissively.

She said that "There's no girl code."

I would always read her cards even though my ancestors did not like her and I ignored my intuition. I wanted a friend, I wanted to be liked.

End of Part 1 of Seven Stages of Becoming an RA...

youtube

** So I wanted to cut it short here. I didn't want it to be a big wall of text. Let's take small chunks of this messy burger. Anyways here's songs that I've listen to during this time frame to make it more authentic. I'm going to at least post a few stories this week. But this blog will be updated every week with one new story.**

#grief #dealing with grief #loss #fear #regret #heartbreak #grieving #college #university #new jersey #drainer #drain gang #tarot #tarot cards #tarot reading #tarot deck #tarot witch #lasagna #Youtube

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coldtoes21 · 2 years

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and they were roommates || e.m

pairing: college!eddie munson x virgin!female!reader

summary: after a dorm pairing mix-up, y/n is stuck with eddie munson, her crush since highschool. eddie overhears y/n talk about how she’s a virgin on the phone with her best friend and offers to take her virginity.

warnings: smut, fingering, p in v, raw doggin’ ( 😭 please practice safe sex everyone‼️) , overstim, squirting, insecurity, and probably more that i forgot!

a/n: hello. okay so first lets pretend gareth graduated in the class of ‘86! yes! and i also have no clue what an RA is or does so yeah! dont come for me pls.

THIS IS PART 1

part 2

-i’ve tried to proofread this, but i’ve read it too many times to catch any lingering mistakes. i did change the tense after finishing this so it’s likely it might switch around here and there.

reblogging is totally fine but pls dont steal my work!! (if its even steal worthy😭)

it was the summer before your first year at college. you decided to stay closer to your parents and Hawkins, despite what had happened over the past couple years. today was the day your mother was helping you move into your dorm that you were sharing with your best friend taylor. you thought that you guys had done a pretty good job, and turned around to admire your work. unexpectedly, the door opened startling you, and causing you to jump a little.

“eddie?!” you exclaim. “what in the world are you doing here?” god. you didn’t even know he graduated.

“what,” he replies nonchalantly, “can I not come into my own dorm?” he looks around glancing at all the band posters you had hung up, secretly admiring them.

“um.. I think you’ve gotten it mistaken munson,” you say with a chuckle. “this is my dorm that im sharing with my friend taylor,” you say, wanting him to leave as soon as possible.

“oh, thats weird then,” eddie responds, “ the RA told me this was matter of a fact my dorm that i’m sharing with my friend gareth, y/n.”

you didn’t know what to do. you wouldn’t mind sharing a dorm with eddie, except you had a massive crush on him since freshman year and you were still planning on rooming with your best friend anyways. you needed to figure out what was going on.

“y/n?” you could hear from the other end of your phone. eddie glanced over at you with a quizzical look as he was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room fidgeting with a loose thread in his jeans.

“hi tay! so um a bit of a problem on my end. i know you’re not coming to move in until tomorrow but munson just came in saying this is his dorm with his friend gareth. do you know what’s going on?” you said into the phone.

“oh shit,” you heard taylor say. “y/n, is eddie still with you?” she questioned, to which you responded with “yes.”

“put me on speaker please,” taylor said. exasperated, you sigh and click speaker, still confused about whag was happening. “ok munson, gareth was supposed to tell you this, and i’m sorry y/n i have no clue how i forgot….” taylor says with an anxious tone. “so um me and gareth are actually going to share a dorm because we’ve been dating for over two years now, and the RA already approved the switch. we didn’t know that it would mean you two would become roomates. i’m so sorry y/n,” taylor says nervously waiting for your response since she knew you had a massive crush on eddie. you look up at a shocked eddie with a gaping mouth. a couple seconds pass.

“WHAT?!” you exclaim into the phone, pacing back and forth. what would this mean? you’re stuck with the man you have had a crush on for more than four years? and sleep in the same room as him? what if he brings a girl over?

“ughh” you groan, “its okay tay. we can talk about this later, for now just let me help munson move in I guess…” eddie looked at you even more shocked. no way was y/n actually letting me move in, he thought to himself.

“ok munson. it’s official i guess. move in whenever you want, but you must keep your stuff on your side of the room,” you said while sighing. “god im going to regret this.

“okay princess , but trust me i’ll make sure you don’t.” he says with a wink and left to gather his stuff, leaving a flushed you in the room to think about what had just happened in the last 30 minutes. did you really just agree to let eddie be your roommate? you groaned. what did you just get yourself into?

it had been 3 months since eddie moved in, and well things had been going rather smoothly.

“y/n” eddie says one day after an especially long day of classes that had you both slumped in your respective beds.

“what?” you groan.

“how come you never bring any guys around?” eddie questions, his face still pressed into his pillow making his words come out muffled.

“what did you say?” you questioned, not sure if you had heard what he said right.

“how come you never bring any guys over? to you know, hookup or something?” eddie said, this time his head was lifted from the pillow and now facing you.

you suddenly felt like the room was getting a little hot and your face flushed a very bright red.

“um well you know, I’m just focused on my studies,” You said, turning away from him in embarrassment. “what about you? i thought i’d be kicked out more often so you could do your thing with girls,” you said with an strained laugh to cover up your grimace. eddie chuckled.

“nah don’t worry about that. i always go to the girl’s dorm. it’s easier either way,” he said shrugging. suddenly you felt insecure. why would eddie want to be with you? he was more experienced and you were still a virgin. no way he would want to be with someone so inexperienced. obviously you had masturbated before, and had used sex toys, but you had just never had sex with another person. at the same time, although it felt messed up, you felt yourself getting wet thinking about eddie having sex.

“something on your mind y/n?” eddie asked.

“no.” you responded and he thankfully dropped it. you quickly passed out from your fatigue, and it seemed eddie did too. it’s not long until you were woken up by the sound of your phone ringing. You groaned and picked it up to see who was calling you at this ungodly hour. the caller id read “tay💓”. you turned your lamp on and picked up, but not before you turned your volume to the lowest to not wake up eddie. she immediately started gushing to you about how she and gareth hooked up in the car. you laughed to yourself about her enthusiasm.

“guess what y/n!” taylor whisper-screamed.

“what?”

“me and gareth… we finally had sex for the first time!! i know it seems a bit late but gareth wanted to wait and i respect his wishes. it was so amazing and he was so gentle and sweet!” taylor said sounding happy. you couldn’t help but feel a bit insecure that all your friends had their fair shares of boyfriends and sexual encounters except for you.

“thats so great..” you replied more quiet now, not that taylor seemed to notice.

“but y/n, i need your help. what should I do? i want to tell gareth how much it meant to me that he decided to trust me and have sex with me, but i’m not sure how to express that.” she whispered, presumably not to awake gareth in her dorm.

you playfully rolled your eyes from your end of the phone. “taylor! you know i’ve never had sex before! god. i’ve never even had a boyfriend,” you said, realizing how pathetic that sounded.

“right...” taylor said and you grimaced. “i’m so sorry y/n, i honestly forgot!“

“no no no! its ok! anyways got to go tay. good luck!” you say while hanging up.

you sigh and fall back onto your mattress.

“you’ve never had sex before?” eddie questioned.

your eyes go wide. no. he couldn’t have. did he hear your entire conversation? you felt so embarrassed.

“no, I haven’t” you said sheepishly.

“jesus christ y/n, you’re missing out so much” eddie said, both of you staring at the ceiling from your beds.

“well maybe one day,” you responded to eddie with a sigh.

“i could show you.” eddie replied quietly, turning to look at you, as your eyes were as wide as saucers. you really did like eddie. you thought he was hot, funny, nice, and interesting to talk to. but you thought he wouldn’t want to do that with someone as inexperienced as you.

“are you sure? i mean i’m super inexperienced, i’ve only kissed guys before…” you said, instantly regretting how much you’d already shared. you didn’t want to finally ruin your chance with eddie.

“jesus y/n, that just makes you even hotter,” he said with a smirk as you walk over to his bed. “but are you sure you want to lose your virginity to me? i mean i know that it means a lot to other people, but I’m not sure about you, and we can do whate-“

“oh god Eddie just shut up and kiss me,” You said, breathily cutting him off whilst getting on his bed and straddling him. you suddenly felt really horny, and you felt a wet spot growing on your panties. you started to kiss him gently, which progressed into a more rough make out . when your lips finally disconnected, you got a good look at him. the light from your lamp shined onto him, and he looked incredibly hot under you in his plaid pajama pants and a thin white t-shirt that said Hellfire Club on it. his hair was ruffled up a little, and his lips were swollen from missing you. you could also feel his erection under you. you start to grind your hips onto his, both of you guys letting out moans and whimpers.

“are you sure you’ve never done this before?” eddie joked, moaning immediately after as his eyes rolled to the back of his head from the pleasure. eddie’s grip on your hip tightened as his hips bucked up. you chuckled but didn’t respond as the pleasure was starting to build up. you could feel your impending orgasm, so you got off of eddie to strip. eddie got the message and started to take off his clothes too, leaving you both naked. eddie brought his hand down to your thighs and starts trailing them up to your pussy.

“eddie. stop teasing-“ you whine out, but eddie caught you off guard and suddenly thrusted two of his fingers into your cunt. you moaned at the sudden contact as eddie’s fingers thrusted in and out of you.

“so wet, and all for me?” eddie said with a grin. you moan in response as you were too divulged in pleasure to form words. he slowly added another digit and soon had you shaking on top of him. the only sound in the room was your moans and the lewd sound of eddie’s fingers thrusting in and out of your wet pussy. and eddie’s occasional praises of course.

“you’re doing so good princess,” eddie groaned, admiring the mess of you that he had created. his other hand that was on your hip moved down to your clit and started rubbing it in circles. that was all you needed to push you off the edge. you started shaking and writhing while moaning profanities as your juices dripped from eddie’s fingers to his lower abdomen.

“fuck eddie,” you said trying to catch your breath, “that felt so good.”

“yeah princess? well we aren’t done,” he responded while smirking at you.

eddie quickly flipped you over so now he was on top and hovering over you. he peppered your face with kisses as you giggled. you felt the tip of his cock teasing your folds.

“c’mon eddie stop being such a tease,” You groaned.

“alright y/n,, but before we do this, I need to know that you’re totally okay with this.”

“please eddie, just do it,” you whined out, and that was all he needed before entering you.

he started off gentle, as his cock entered your pussy. even though he had already stretched you out, it still burned. you winced and eddie noticed, but you signaled that you were okay. he stayed inside you, not moving until you said you were okay with him moving. he started to thrust in and out gently, and the pain started to subside into pleasure.

“oh my god eddie this feels so good,” you moaned out.

“oh baby you feel so tight,” eddie moaned out. he thrusted in and out of you at a quicker pace letting out low groans and moans. the squelching sounds of your wet pussy as eddie penetrated you unmercifully turned you on even more. he quickly took your tit in his hand and started sucking on your nipple. he left hickeys around it, making sure to mark you as his, you let out a pornographic moan as you felt another orgasm forming. eddie took your moan as a sign of encouragement, and kept going. his moans vibrated against your sensitive nipple, leaving you in a hazy state of pleasure and ecstasy.

“oh eddie!” you moaned out when he moved his hand down to your clit.

“im gonna come sweetheart,” eddie whispered as he let out an erotic whimper.

“m-me too,” you stuttered out.

eddie started to quicken his pace, leaving you in a moaning and writhing mess under him. your reached your high fairly quickly and you came all over eddie’s cock as you squirted on his hips, legs and the bed. that was surely going to leave stains for him to clean up later. eddie came inside of you soon after as his hips stuttered and bucked up into your over sensitive cunt. you whimpered as you were shaking under eddie from all the stimulation.

“that was so amazing,” eddie said with a raspy voice as you were both coming down from your highs. before you could respond, eddie moved down and connected his lips with your pussy. he licked a stripe up to your clit as you tangled your shaky hands into his hair, as you were still sensitive from your last orgasm. eddie lapped up all your juices and his cum from your dripping and pulsing cunt.

“you taste so good darling,” eddie said while coming back up to kiss you. he smirked as he knew you could taste your own cum on his lips.

“t-thank you eds,” you said breathily.

“no problem y/n,” he responded with a cheeky smile. “so… do you still regret letting me move in?”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #joseph quinn #eddie munson is so hot #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #gareth #hawkins #hawkins high #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things 4

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minervadashwood · 1 year

Text

Daryl Dixon x NB!Reader (afab, plus-size) 🏹 Daryl x Reader x Rick 🛡️

The Cop and the Criminal - Chapter 12

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Series Masterlist |Masterlist | Taglist

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Summary: You visit Daryl for the weekend. This chapter contains: Bromance, a quickie, some angst and fluff. Word count: 3.1K Note: I promised you would meet Rick, but the plot went elsewhere. Rick next time for sure! Thanks to @green-eyedladywrites for her support and encouragement and @livingdeadblondequeen for correcting all my mistakes and knowing about whiskey.

A month went by. School and work kept you incredibly busy. It was your job at the research center to digitize found manuscripts by scanning then transcribing the words into searchable text. The work could get tedious, truly better suited to a beta than yourself, but you aspired to do just as well as a beta. There was no reason your designation would keep you from doing your part.

Every Friday afternoon, your anthropology/archeology team would meet with Ro’s science team, sharing notes and swapping theories. The aim of this project was to determine how a pandemic in Canada, hundreds of years ago, affected the social and mating dynamics of packs. Ro was especially fascinated with the alpha-omega-alpha mates. He was trying to pinpoint the biological and genetic cues that caused the phenomenon, especially since such triads only appeared when a population was on the verge of decimation.

To you, those social dynamics were intriguing, but you focused on how much more elevated omegas were at this time. Not only were omegas important for repopulation, but their caretaking skills became vital to a successful pack. Omegas would nurse the sick pack members, soothe the overworked alphas, and become beacons of hope and comfort for their packs. Although you did not dream of domesticity, you felt no small amount of pride for your omega predecessors.

Every Friday after this meeting, you would check your phone messages, and without fail, Daryl would have messaged you while you were in the meeting. These would be short messages, like “Leaving now,” or “on my way.” But those few words were enough because by the time you walked back to your dorm, Daryl would be waiting for you inside your apartment. He had his own keycard now and was well known by all the RAs and the resident hall director. He visited you every Wednesday evening and stayed with you every weekend.

However, on a Friday in late September, when your meeting ended, you unlocked your phone and did not see a message from Daryl. You had to assume he was only running late, so you did your best to be patient and not pester him with messages of your own. Daryl was the most dependable person you’d ever met, so you had no need to worry.

Rick was keeping his distance, waiting just outside the bedroom door to the master bedroom. Daryl was in the room staring down at the finished bed, biting his thumbnail.

“Daryl, I promise you, they are going to like the place. We put in so much work. It’s time, man.”

Daryl had done his best to pick out the linens that were similar to the ones you had at your place, down to the color and the type of fabric. Still, there were two wooden chests, each stuffed with pillows and blankets in case you wanted something else or something more.

“I dunno,” he murmured. “Still feels like there’s somethin’ missin’.”

“Daryl, that bed is beautiful. The only thing missing is your omega.”

Daryl studied the King-sized bed and the headboard he’d had made. It had little shelves on it: for snacks, for books, for your eyeglasses. Daryl could swear he saw nothing but flaws. Maybe you wouldn’t like the woodstain he’d chosen. Or what if he’d neglected to sand down the wood grain enough and you got a splinter? Daryl could not abide you getting hurt because of something he did.

Rick let out a long-suffering sigh, however Daryl knew Rick wasn’t short tempered like Merle. The furthest thing from it, in fact.

Rick said, “How about this: you take a few pictures of the place, and let them decide what else the place needs?”

Daryl stopped chewing his nail and nodded. Then, he took out his phone and began snapping photos. Rick showed him how to take a panoramic photo of the nest. Then Daryl went to your home office he’d furnished, mostly from found furniture. It was amazing what people would leave behind when they moved out. Daryl had found you an L-shaped desk, two bookshelves, some floor lamps and a desk lamp. He painted them all with the colors he saw most in your apartment, in effect creating a cobbled together office suite. Someday, this room might be where your pups slept, but for now, it would be a place for you to work and study.

Next, he headed to the laundry closet. To his utter surprise, Randy--his boss--had footed the bill for all new appliances, and that included a washer-dryer combo with more buttons than Daryl had seen in his life. He was hoping you could teach him how to work it. The third bedroom was where he kept all his hunting, hiking, and camping equipment, and was the place he’d been sleeping since he’d taken the job here. He didn’t need to show you a picture of that, so he moved on to the living room. Most of the furniture was used, but it at least matched. There was a barely-used sectional sofa, an easy chair, and a TV stand. The couch looked empty. He hoped you’d fill it up with your cozy knitted creations. In fact, as he stared at the photo he’d taken, he imagined himself cuddling with you on the couch, making love to you, and falling asleep with you in his arms as one of your horror movies played on the TV..

Admittedly, the couch wasn’t the only place he wanted to fuck you. Almost every room held its own potential.

The kitchen came last. It had a new stove, oven, refrigerator, dishwasher, and brand new cabinets. Daryl was about to make his own cabinets from discarded lumber when Randy told him to just buy a whole set from the home improvement store. So Daryl had, but he installed it himself.

Once Daryl finished taking the pictures, Rick looked over his shoulder as Daryl flipped through the series of pictures.

Daryl tapped a few times, trying to find the messaging button, but all that happened was the picture shrinking or enlarging, and once flipping all the way around.

Rick pinched his nose. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how to send a picture.”

“Shut up,” Daryl murmured. He handed the phone to Rick, and a few taps later the pictures were sent.

You were in the elevator up to your apartment when your phone let out a flurry of notifications from Daryl’s special ringtone (a motorcycle engine). You stepped out onto your floor and opened up the picture messages.

Each photo had you smiling more and more. The house Daryl had been working on looked so cozy and well-kept. It needed some decorating, but you’d have that done in no time. However, when you finally came to the bedroom, you nearly cried right there in the hallway.

The bed--your nest--was huge. Even in the photo it looked welcoming and cozy. Blankets and pillows were piled on it, and there were all these little shelves like cubby holes. What’s more, the floor had a lush carpet and the curtains were almost exactly like the ones you had in your apartment. Come to think of it, was that your comforter on top of the bed? Even without creating the nest yourself, it began to feel like home already.

You replied to Daryl with a string of heart eye emojis, then you typed. “Give me time to pack a bag, and I’ll be on my way.”

Rick was looking over Daryl’s shoulder again. “C’mon. What did they say?”

Daryl stared off into space, barely coherent enough to speak. “They’re uh…on their way over.”

Rick slapped Daryl on the back. “What did I tell ya, buddy?”

Daryl nodded, still processing.

Rick picked up his tool belt and slung it over his shoulder. “I’ll make myself scarce.”

Daryl took note of Rick’s toolbag, belatedly realizing Rick was mostly to thank for this turn of events. The man had been with Daryl almost every step of the way fixing up this house. And he didn’t want anything in return, a fact Daryl still had trouble understanding.

Daryl knew he couldn’t let Rick go without doing something to show his appreciation.

“How ‘bout ya come by ‘round eight. Fer a coupla drinks an’ to meet ‘em?

Rick cocked his head. “You sure about that? What about them and their fear of alphas?”

“Tha’s one reason they should meet ya, to see yer a good guy an’ all that shit.”

Rick smiled. “Alright, buddy. See you at eight.”

Using your navigation app, you made the drive to the apartment complex Daryl worked at. You were full of excitement, practically bouncing in your seat as you drove. As the miles passed by, that excitement only grew.

“Your destination is on the left,” the smooth navigation voice intoned.

The apartment complex was somewhat old. From the 1960s or 70s, you guessed from the architecture. But it looked well cared for. The parking lot was clean, the landscaping tidy and appealing, and it looked as if all the stairs and railings had fresh coats of paint. There were two tall buildings, about five storeys high, and each apartment had its own entrance. Set apart from the buildings was a two-storey house with a weathered wooden sign in its front yard that read:

The Chalets EST 1967 Main Office

Standing next to that sign was Daryl, who had a pink flower in his hand. The flower matched those you saw as you drove in.

You slammed on your brakes and put both hands over your mouth, gasping at his appearance. He was wearing a blue suit, and the sun shone down on him, so his eyes were squinting back at you. Not even bothering to pull into the parking space, you slammed the gearshift into park. Almost instantly, Daryl was at your door, pulling it open and then he reached out a hand to you. You took it, standing up and then wrapped your arms around your mate.

He let out an “oomph” of surprise, then he hugged you back, burying his nose in your neck.

“Daryl, it’s so pretty here!”

He scoffed. “Ya ain’t even seen the place yet.”

Daryl let you go enough so he could see your pretty face as you smiled up at him.

“I mean the whole campus here. The landscaping, the parking lot. It’s so well kept.” You put a finger in one of his belt loops and tugged. “And look at you, my alpha all dressed up in a suit--the same color as his eyes. So handsome.” You reached up and cupped his jaw.

He turned into your touch, kissing your palm before stepping away from you. He handed you the flower he’d cut earlier, then he took your other hand and led you inside.

“It’s a bit of a mess down here with the office an’ shit, but it’s the upstairs where I been tryin’ to make the place good ‘nough for ya.”

He ushered you inside and up the stairs to--what he hoped would be--your new home. Once you made it up to the first floor landing, he opened the door and let you inside.

“Oh, alpha,” you gasped, walking through the little entryway and into the remodeled kitchen. It’s so nice! I’ve never seen a kitchen this new or clean. Oh, does that fridge make ice? And filter the water?”

“Mmmhmm,” he mumbled, watching you flit about the place, touching everything. Your small hand ran the length of the dining table, then you turned the tap on and off, you opened the dishwasher and sniffed it. You touched the water and ice dispenser almost reverently, then you opened the fridge and freezer doors.

Rick had been right. The only thing missing from this house was you, and now that you were here, he wanted--no, needed--you to stay.

He let you lead the way deeper into the house, to the living room. Again, you kept touching everything, but as you neared the easy chair, where Rick tended to sit when they took a break from remodeling, you froze in place.

You didn’t turn to Daryl for help, yet you seemed to wobble on your feet and one hand went up to your chest. Daryl didn’t need to claim you to know you were in distress. He put his arm around you and led you to sit on the sectional sofa.

Your heart hammered in your chest, and the wave of desire brought on by the scent of summer rain made you weak in the knees. As Daryl sat you down, you were hot all over and almost pulled him on top of you to stifle this craving for the other alpha.

Holding him by the forearms, you asked him for a glass of water. By the time he’d returned, you’d managed to get a hold of yourself. You drank half the glass, then you set it down and put your pink flower in it.

Daryl sat next to you and pulled you into his arms. His scent enveloped you and filled the room, helping to mask what you’d come to know--irrevocably--as Rick’s scent.

“‘Mega?” Daryl asked, putting a finger on your chin and urging you to look at him .

“I’m alright. I just…”

“It’s jus’ Rick. He helped me fix up the place some.”

You nodded. “He’s your friend. A good guy. I’ll get better with this. Promise.” You truly hoped you would. There was no need for you get turned on every single time you smelled the other alpha. Once Daryl claimed you, these urges would surely go away. It was just that pesky omega biology. Perhaps because you’d been working and studying too much. Or perhaps you felt this way because you spent too much time away from Daryl. While your scholastic obligations weren’t likely to let up any time soon, you were more than ready to move into this house and spend every free moment with your mate.

“I wan’ ya to meet ‘im this evenin’. That way ya won’t be so afraid anymore. Tha’ alright?”

You took a few deep breaths while looking into Daryl’s eyes and knew there was one way of slaking the desire that held you in its grips. You sat up and straddled Daryl’s lap and began undoing his tie. It turned out to be a clip on, so you tossed it to the side with a flourish and then began kissing his chest and neck.

“Ya sure ya wan’ my knot now, Bubbie?”

His scent and the odor of your own arousal continued to cloud the room. “Now,” you told him, kissing him hard on the mouth. “Always.” As you tasted and smelled him, your thoughts became focused solely on Daryl, your True mate

You fumbled, unbuttoning his pants and freeing his long erection. “You want me, too? Already?”

Daryl ground up against you, impeded by your tweed slacks. “All ya gotta do is be in the same room with me an’ I gotta have ya. Now, get these damn pants off before I get rug burn.”

“Yes, alpha,” you panted, thoughts of having anyone else inside you were now obliterated.

You got out of your pants and straddled him again. Daryl kissed your gland and your neck, his tongue flicking out and licking as he sucked gently on various places on your sensitive skin. You threw your head back as you lowered yourself onto him, letting his thick, hard length stretch you open for a moment before you started moving.

“Oh, Daryl,” you sighed, sliding up and down his cock so it hit you just right.

“Fuck me, Bubbie,” Daryl groaned. He made quick work of taking off your top and freeing your breasts, then his mouth latched onto your nipple, his tongue laving it in between soft bites with his teeth. Each movement of his mouth sent shocks of pleasure to your clit, and you put your hand there to stroke your bundle of nerves in time with everything else.

“I’m getting so close, Alpha,” you moaned.

“Me, too, Bubbie. Ready for my knot, ain’t ya.”

You nodded, burying your head in his neck as he began to thrust up into you. With a grunt, he locked his knot in place and you screamed with pleasure. How could you want anyone but this man, this alpha? Daryl was the mate you’d always dreamed of having, the only mate you’d ever need. You knew this deep down as your pussy milked his cock and you both clung to each other, riding out your orgasms. You were both breathless as you came down, but you couldn’t stop smiling at Daryl.

He grinned back and started peppering your face with quick playful kisses, making you giggle in his arms.

He laughed with you, his throaty chuckle the sweetest sound in the world. He held you close and whispered in your ear, “Welcome home, Bubbie.”

At 7:30 PM Rick took two alpha blockers and downed them with a glass of water. While he should have been relaxing and watching the game on TV, all Rick had done was sit on his sofa and get a hard on every time he thought of you.

He really should start dating again. He was pretty sure he was over Lori, and he truly did want to find a fitting omega and make a go of it. Years earlier, before he’d met Lori,he dreamed of meeting his True Mate, but now that dream was dead in the water. The only omega he’d met in the past year—off the job—was you. And you were taken. It was time for him to try some of those dating apps or maybe even go out to a bar once in a while. Besides, once you moved in with Daryl, Rick couldn’t continue to spend his evenings over there.

Rick still couldn't figure out exactly how he’d become such good friends with Daryl in such a short amount of time. Once Daryl started getting less anxious around him, Daryl would crack jokes about whatever idiot had crossed Rick’s path during the day. Daryl was a good listener too, especially when Rick would tell stories about Lori and Carl. Daryl may not say much, but it was clear he was a compassionate man just by the way he would listen. His conversations with Daryl were entirely different from talking with Shane, a man who didn’t know when to shut up. Shane was convinced he had all the best advice and assumed everyone wanted to hear it. Daryl wasn’t like that. He would listen without judgement, and Rick really admired that.

Seconds on his grandfather clock ticked by, then the sonorous chimes told him it was time. He grabbed the brand new, unopened bottle of Sexton Single Malt Irish Whiskey and went to welcome you to your new home.

Next chapter

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