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blkkizzat · 3 months

Note

please write nerd geto ! i’m sure you’ll write something amazinggg

Of course doll! Sorry this took a while I was sick most of December and January whooped my ass with classes starting again but I love love the idea of Nerd!Geto especially a Nerd!Geto with glasses so had to write a whole fic. Hope you like it :3 ♡

Lessons in Anatomy

“Shall I give you a lesson, Y/N? Do you want me to teach you how to squirt?”

summary: thanks to some bad choices and party girl ways you're on academic probation and can't afford to fail another test. fortunately your longtime friend nerd!geto is there to give you lessons in both economics and anatomy.

cw: college AU. fingering, squirting, dirty talk, edging, mentions of satosugu, rich party kid shit, incestuous friendships, mentions of reader x other jjk men, mentions of casual sex/hookups, mentions of drinking/drug use, reader is a dumb (and I mean dumb) bimbo, a little bit of a brat too, slight coercion, slight dubcon, virgin!suguru, soft dom!sugu, sex ed!sugu, roleplay as sugu is pre med major, some minor fluff, pet names: slut, bunny etc. a bit of a crack fic too haha. slightly black fem coded, no descriptors. a/n: LOL how this became an 8.2k fic about squirting idk chile... but special shout out to @littlemochabunni who talked me off a ledge when I was being emo and I wanted to scrap the entire thing and start over. w/c: 8.2k

“I can’t believe I’m here and missing the biggest party of the year!”

You groaned as you scrolled through your stories to see all the pics and vids of your friends living their best drunken lives and happily binge drinking on frat row to celebrate your school’s football league championship win.

Toru just did unassisted keg stand pushups and you missed it!

You, on the other hand, were stuck studying with Suguru in his dorm room.

100% sober and being forced to learn 5 weeks of econ, that you never took a single note for, in one weekend.

Well not forced exactly.

You and Satoru had practically begged Suguru to help you study this weekend. If you failed this class you would flunk out as you were already on academic probation.

“Well I for one can’t believe you’re dumb enough to attempt to cheat off Toji and Sukuna of all people.”

Suguru quipped back while pushing up his glasses. He snatched your phone away from you and placed it on the other side of his desk, away from you.

Not that he took offense to the remark, but he too had better things to do on a Friday night than tutoring you. Keggers definitely weren't his scene though and Suguru wouldn’t be caught dead at a party celebrating with those frat monkeys. Even if said monkeys included his childhood friends.

However, as a pre-med student he’d much rather stay in to write his essay for the clinical research internship he was trying to get.

“Hey! I didn’t cheat off them for the record! Toji and Sukuna said they had the hookup for the answers!”

You pouted grumbling as you tried to reach for your phone on the other side of the table only for Suguru to take it again. This time he slid it into his pockets, keeping it away from you for good.

“Urgh, it’s not my fault they got the test for ECON 230A and 230B mixed up. I didn’t even know there was a second section!”

Suguru had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at you again. The pilfered test definitely had ‘ECON 230B’ printed in big bold letters at the top.

You all were idiots.

Unfortunately for you, you were just a cheerleader idiot.

The other idiots, Toji and Sukuna, dubbed the ‘The Boom Bros’, were the reason your team even won the championships in the first place. The best defensive backs your college or any college in your division have seen, ever. Not letting an opposing team score more than 10 points the entire season, there was no way in hell they were going down for that right before the championships.

That left you as the scapegoat, which was something Suguru noted that you happily took the fall for. Although there is a very good possibility of you being a soon-to-be college dropout, your social clout was skyrocketing.

Word spread among the popular social circles fast on how you ‘saved the big game’.

Suguru couldn’t care less about football, though he was getting annoyed at all the texts, DMs and messages you received asking where you were. They were making you completely lose the little focus you were capable of, which is what made him confiscate your phone in the first place.

Sighing, Suguru was pretty sure you would be competent enough to pass if you just applied yourself more to anything other than drinking and parties.

“Y/N, just try to focus on studying, please.”

You pouted, turning back to the textbook in front of you.

How did Suguru’s nerdy ass enjoy studying so much?

Studying, especially anything to do with math, gives you an ick. In fact, you were sure the only reason you graduated from high school and even got into this university was because you played 7-minutes-in-heaven with Choso at the start of senior year.

It had been a secret double dare from Gojo but you sucked the soul out of that boy in Gojo’s closet that night. From then on, Choso pretty much did anything you wanted that year, including all your homework. Hell, he even wrote your college admissions essays and in turn you gave him some sloppy toppy here and there.

Choso was always eager to feel your soft lips on his cock, so you’re sure he could have thought of a better way for you to cheat so you didn't have to study at all and could be out partying right now. It’s just your bad luck that he was studying abroad this semester with his little brother Yuuji.

Although, even if you did flunk out you weren’t that worried. Worst case scenario if you couldn’t find a career or a husband you could always be one of Gojo’s three mistresses he said he would keep once he was older, married and had taken over his family’s company.

He had pinky-pie-promised he would take care of you if you needed it and as one of your best friends you knew he was good for that promise. Even if he did make it while you both were partying, tripping balls off acid so hard that Satoru convinced himself your cunt could produce cotton candy. He chewed on your pussy for 2 hours straight one wild night on your group’s graduation trip where he then asked if you would be his future mistress.

But that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted that life for yourself. You liked your independence and Satoru would be alot to deal with, even with 2 other mistresses and a wife.

Therefore, unless you wanted to resign yourself to that fate, you were stuck with Suguru as your tutor.

It’s not like you didn’t get along with Suguru, he’d been one of your closest friends since you were young along with Satoru. But as you got older your interests kind of drifted apart and you saw him less and less, especially as you got to college.

You wanted to party and Suguru prioritized studying.

You had missed him. You wanted to have fun with him again.

And this was definitely not fun.

Reading the same paragraph for the fifth time and retaining shit all of whatever the passage had said about ‘demand curve fluctuations’, you were ready to climb up the walls.

You began to fidget, still in your cheer uniform from the game earlier. The material of your skirt rode up to your upper thighs when you splayed your knees out and leaned forward to lay your head on the desk face down with an exasperated yawn.

Suguru shared in your exasperation but directed his towards you with another sigh, looking you over. His weariness at you from your inability to study causes his eyes to linger on your form longer than they should.

Resting against his desk, your back had molded into a nice natural little arch as your tits pushed forward . Adjusting his glasses Suguru found it difficult to pull his eyes away once they landed on your thighs. Practically leering, Suguru is transfixed by the way the fabric bunched at your hips digs into your soft skin.

He curses your university’s school colors as the next thing that caught his eye was the bright yellow cheer panties you wore that were tight enough to show the full shape of your cunt. Your panties are so skinforming that they don’t fail to give you camel toe. The indent of the slit between your fat pussy lips is on full display.

You’ve always been attractive, Suguru muses as he feels his pants slightly tighten. But it’s no mystery why you were such a slut now if these were the positions you found yourself in when alone with guys.

“Seeing something you like, Sugu baby?”

Suguru snaps his head up at your teasing to see you looking straight at him, your head still resting on his desk but has since turned to face him. The wink along with the lazy yet knowing smile forming on your cherry stained lips lets him know you know he was staring at your cunt.

Caught red handed, Suguru rolls his eyes and scoffs as he returns back to the textbooks in front of him while you laugh. Dismissing your question entirely he changes the subject back to studying but can’t resist throwing in a little dig to take the heat off himself.

“Y/N, can’t you just focus? You’ve barely made any progress… Or is it that you want to flunk out and be reduced to Toru’s mistress or something?”

Fuck, you forgot Suguru knew about that too. (Duh, of course he did. He was the sober one who found you both, taking care of you once your come downs had hit).

Not letting him get away with that shade, the brat in you clapped back as you returned his sarcasm back at him.

“Okay, well high school was one thing but do you want to go through college without getting any play too? Or are you satisfied just from peeking up a skirt?”

Annoyance flashes in Suguru’s eyes. He thought you had some audacity seeing as you were the one who was casually flaunting your pussy for him in the first place. Nevertheless, you continued, using Suguru as a punching bag for your current academic frustrations.

“Your pocket pussy and getting head from Toru behind the bleachers at prom doesn’t count by the way!”

Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose as his tolerance of the situation had officially bubbled over. He was tired of everyone thinking he was missing out on something just because he didn’t want to kill off brain cells partying every weekend or play STD Roulette with casual hookups.

You bringing up prom was a low blow. It was the first time he’d ever had a drink and Toru had practically begged him. Satoru wanted to know if his head was just as good for guys as it was for girls (spoiler alert: it was).

Also, what you thought just because you fucked around alot it was actually any good?

“Yeah and getting railed by a bunch of banana brained monkey jocks, that counts Y/N? They wouldn’t know what to do with your clit even if it was an actual football.”

Suguru retorted and he watched as your eyes widened with shock then seethed with anger as you finally sat upright in the seat.

Ding Ding! He had hit a nerve.

“Oh and you would know what to do, cherry boy?”

Suguru knows he probably shouldn’t push it further. But like Satoru, you always knew what buttons to push to get under his skin. Suguru can’t help but to want to get under your skin as well, especially since he was never one of the ones getting under your clothes.

“Well I can actually spell clitoris, so that already puts me at an advantage over those ball chasing monkeys. Have you ever even had a real orgasm before, Y/N?”

You started to speak but Suguru cut you off before you could.

“—and I mean one that didn’t come from tripping with Satoru or a toy? I bet you’ve never even squirted before.”

Damn.

You resisted the urge to chew on your lip, not wanting him to know just how right he was but your immediate silence was telling. Racking your brain, you tried to find a way to get your lick back but found yourself at a loss.

It was mostly true to be honest.

A hot and heavy make-out session at a party would typically lead to mostly underwhelming sex and you would have to return to your dorm or wait for them to leave to finish yourself off with your rose or dildo… or both.

Okay and sure, maybe the one and only time you did really have an intense body orgasm was the time you dropped acid with Satoru but… fuck –Wait…squirting?! Wasn’t that just pee? Gross!

Satisfied with your small ammunition, after a pause you bit back again.

“Alright, so frat boys aren’t sex gods, tell me something I don’t know. It’s still sex Suguru—”

You flipped your hair and crossed your legs arrogantly as you continued.

“— sex that you aren’t having, which, duh, is obvious if you think squirting is an actual thing. Because Eww nasty, I’m so not into piss-play, Sugu!”

You waited for his reply, assuring your win but Suguru just blinked at you, dumbfounded.

The thought of you having won shatters when Suguru erupts into a fit of laughter. Hitting the table for emphasis Suguru was near howling as the glasses fell off his face and he had to clutch his sides for support, keeling over in his chair.

Suguru couldn’t actually believe that you believed squirting was the same as urinating!

On second thought, knowing you, this kind of checked out…

Watching Suguru in a fit of hysterics had your face burning with embarrassment as waves of self-consciousness came over you.

To be honest, you weren’t even sure why you were feeling insecure as this was supposed to be your victory! This was not the reaction you expected from him at all to say the least!

Just what made this so funny!? Because you didn’t want to piss yourself during sex?!

“Sugu…”

“Hey, Suguru!!!”

Frustrated with him ignoring you and still laughing after failing to get his attention, you jumped up from your seat and marched directly in front of Suguru. Angrily you yanked his head up by his man bun.

You were so ready to tell Suguru to go to hell for laughing at you. Even if you weren’t too sure exactly what he was laughing at you for, he was still being a jerk right now.

However the words caught in your throat as soon as you saw his face.

Suguru’s wide grin easily illuminated the dimly lit dorm room. Tears gathered in the crinkle around his eyes and pulled into an expression of such warmth that you were reminded of all the fun times you had together goofing off over the years. You nearly forgot what it was like to see him laugh like this.

So nostalgic you almost forgot he was still laughing at your expense — almost.

“Don’t be an asshole Sugu…”

Your voice was low, lacking any real bite as all your fire fizzled and was replaced by a pout.

Defeated, you let go of your stiff grip on his silky bun causing it to unravel and frame his face with thick black strands that flowed down past his shoulders. Although it wasn’t the first time you had seen Suguru with his hair down and no glasses, you couldn’t help but stare at him now.

He had grown much more into his features since high school.

College Suguru had sharper eyes, a slimmer face with a strong jawline and hair that flowed down to his chest. Not to mention his lanky boyish frame had filled out. The muscles underneath were prominent now even if he was wearing a baggy band tee and sweats. Suguru didn’t go to parties but from the looks of him he certainly didn’t miss going to the gym.

He didn’t look much like the nerd you knew him to be right now at all.

Granted, you were still a bit salty with Suguru but didn’t want to fight with him anymore. Especially given the way his dark eyes sparkled as he gazed up at you, your heart nearly skipping a beat as if you were really only noticing him now for the first time.

Sniffling, a cocktail of emotions swirls in you. Moisture pricks in the corners of your eyes despite yourself.

Suguru, who was also staring at you, took notice right away.

“Hey Bunny, I’m sorry...”

You relaxed a bit hearing the old nickname he and Satoru gave to you back in middle school, you couldn’t remember the last time he called you that.

Grabbing your hand in his much larger one, Suguru gave your palm a gentle rub with his thumb. His hand was surprisingly soft.

Despite his sweet gesture, your brow twitched slightly at Suguru’s soft chuckles, still continuing albeit less frequently, at your expense.

“It’s just that… I dunno, I guess I would have expected you to have experienced it at least once before Y/N, it’s definitely not pee.”

You huffed. You still weren’t convinced it wasn’t pee but now you were more curious than anything.

“And how do you know that Suguru? You’ve made a girl squirt before?”

There was no sarcasm in your tone this time, just doubt since he would have told Toru and Toru definitely would have told you if Suguru was getting play from someone.

Suguru to his credit wasn't discouraged though.

If anything, he seemed to gain confidence on the matter now that you weren’t fighting him, rather looking to him for knowledge, for the first time tonight.

“Well, no, but I did get a 4.0 out of Anatomy last semester and unlike you I actually paid attention in Sex Ed. Also, just because I’m a virgin, doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless. There is a little thing called the internet, Y/N.”

You mouthed an ‘O’— a bit ashamed that you actually thought because he was a virgin who didn’t party he was merely just sitting around clueless to everything about sex.

But what could just reading textbooks and the internet teach him over actual experience?

Then again, Suguru was practically a genius, if he was saying something was possible you could be sure it was. Still you couldn’t stop your mind racing as you considered his previous words.

You were the one with all the experience so you should have experienced it before, right?

Maybe the guys you hooked up with weren’t the problem then? Maybe you were.

“What if– w-what if I’m the problem Suguru? What if I just can’t?”

Tugging you closer, his fingers now interlacing with yours, Suguru’s other hand settled on your hip giving you a warm squeeze. You were so close to him now that his chin almost rested on your belly and Suguru was craning his head up to you with a small sly grin still on his face.

“It’s not a matter of can or can’t Bunny, you just don’t know how. Shall I give you a lesson, Y/N?”

“Do you want me to teach you how to squirt?”

You felt a bit lightheaded as you considered the words that just came out of Suguru’s mouth. You weren’t shy at all when it came to matters of sex and you had the reputation to prove it. Yet your stomach still did a little flip at Suguru propositioning you.

Sure you were a bit of a slut and had at least made out with almost every guy in your group of friends, but not Suguru. Not for lack of attraction though, you had teased Suguru in the past but he had always been the responsible one, like an older brother or protector.

Besides, Satoru was always so needy for his attention. There weren’t often times you were with Suguru alone and he never seemed all too interested in sex either, at least when directly compared to a horn dog like Satoru.

You didn’t actually know if he was serious though so you decided to make light of it, giggling.

“If you wanted me to pop your cherry Sugu, all ya had to do was ask.”

Suguru smiled back at you, he shook his head chuckling.

“I’ll only need to use my fingers, Y/N. Besides, this is about you. What I really want is for you to not flunk out, I would miss you, ya know?”

You try to keep a poker face but you couldn’t help feeling giddy at the fact you were extremely happy to hear Suguru would miss you. You had already missed him and combined with the inkling of new feelings stirring in your chest from seeing your old friend in a new light you feel adrenaline begin to pump through you as you brim with nervous energy.

“Let’s think of this as a study break from Economics. You had to miss the party but we can still have some fun. You might even learn something for once, eh?”

His hand left your hip in order to push the books and papers on his desk aside and patted the wooden surface. The hand still intertwined with yours guided you over.

“Hop on up, Bunny. It’s time for your anatomy lesson.”

You look at the desk and pause as if you are unsure, biting your lip.

Thoughts of finally hooking up with Suguru excited and the fact you were nervous whether you would disappoint him if you couldn’t actually squirt flood your mind at once. However when you meet Suguru’s eyes and feel gentle reassuring pressure on your hand your body is already moving towards the desk, making the decision for you.

Your heart is already thudding in your eardrums by the time you settle on top of Suguru’s study desk. Suguru immediately shifts into instructor mode, picking his glasses up off the floor and adjusting them back on his face.

He directs you to lean back and relax and soon your shoulders are against the wall behind the desk as you are propped up on your elbows.

You yelp as Suguru startles you by grabbing your hips with a firm squeeze and scooches you flush to his pelvis. Feet propped up to the edge as well all you needed were the stirrups and you could have been at the gyno's office, giggling now at the thought.

“Sugu, you can’t be serious. I feel like you’re about to give me a pap, not an orgasm.”

Suguru’s mouth twitches up into a smirk.

“There’s a reason they have you lie in this position, makes for easier access. If you’re going to squirt I’m going to need to find that slutty lil’ gland of yours and I don’t mean your clit, Bunny.”

You huffed but you were otherwise agreeable.

You couldn’t deny you were a slut especially not now with your legs spread open wide exposing your bright yellow cheer-panty clad cunt to Suguru. Laid out like this, the thin layer of spandex is stretched to its absolute limits causing your chubby pussy lips to poke out of the sides. This does not go unnoticed by Suguru who hadn’t taken his eyes off your lower half since you initially spread your legs.

His Adam's apple bobbed heavily as he swallowed and breathed deeply at the sight of you.

Suguru can barely believe he’s really about to do this.

If anything he is overconfident in his abilities, despite his lack of actual on-the-job experience so to speak. From all his studying as a pre-med student, books, health articles and yes even porn, Suguru could say he had an in-depth understanding of human anatomy and bodily functions.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t need to calm himself enough to stop his balmy palms from sweating further at the reality of finally being allowed to actually touch you.

“I’ll be in your care then, Doctor Geto.”

You make a lighthearted joke with a nervous laugh to ease your own anticipation. However the joke has the opposite effect for Suguru and he snaps his head up as if you had activated something in him.

Suguru’s fiery expression sends shivers down your back. Although as quickly as it appeared it was gone again, replaced by his trademark comforting grin. Even so your fingers pressed a bit deeper into the wood beneath you, steadying your frazzling nerves.

“Well aren’t you a lucky one then, being my first patient ever. You’ll be a good little pussy and listen to me, won't you?”

Suguru is looking down again, speaking directly to your cunt who is tingling in response to his voice. It’s fucking lewd. But then again so is the studious scrutiny of Suguru’s eyes so single-mindedly transfixed to your cunt you wonder if his leer alone could dissolve the cheer panties right off of you.

You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding once Suguru finally starts touching you.

But not your pussy just yet.

His long thick fingers are surprisingly cool on your skin as they press into your warmth, ghosting just above your knee on both sides.

Gentle strokes travel down along your inner thighs and up again to lightly tickle the backs of your legs. You tense and squirm beneath him when your eyes meet Suguru’s own.

“Sugu–”

“Patience, Bunny. It’s no wonder you never cum if you’re so used to diving right in. You need to relax first. This won’t happen if you aren’t relaxed, can you try to do that for me?”

You nodded back at him, yet the goosebumps left in the wake of Suguru’s soft caresses had you trembling. So used to rushed thrusts and hurried grasps, you don’t know how to just take it in the moment.

You had never been touched this delicately before.

Already oversensitive, if anything you felt like the one who was the virgin in this situation.

If Suguru notices, he says nothing. His touches are progressively firmer, the light pets morphing into soft squeezes and circular strokes of the hand once he traverses closer to your core.

“You know Bunny, the inner thigh area is an erogenous zone? Can you say that, Y/N? Ero-gen-ous?

Suguru pronounces the word out for you as his heavy muscular hands make their way to the crease of your inner thighs, his hands once more perilously close to your pussy as he pauses looking up at you again expectantly.

“Say it, Y/N.”

Your cunt clenches at his command and it leaves you stuttering. Heat blossoms across your cheeks from how needy you sound choking out the word.

“Er-Ero-gennn-ous.”

Suguru rewards you by moving his hands again but to your dismay they pass your core to dig into your hips, his thumbs swirling over your hip bones. He leans his body in closer to you and you break eye contact to turn your head away lest you really start falling apart in his hands.

“Good girl. Ya know, you’re quite bright with the right motivation, Bunny.”

Puffs of moist heat glide over the tip of your ear as his lips are only millimeters away from your skin. His words stimulate a deep in your gut reaching all the way down to your toes, trying to resist how much he’s affecting you.

Suguru chuckles at your bashfulness.

“Are you always this shy, Bunny? Or does that honor just belong to me?”

You whimpered. You aren’t sure how you got here.

How was Suguru, a nerdy virgin, making you come undone like this? You didn’t know where the darkness that crept up on the edges of his eyes was coming from either, yet you squirm in anticipation despite yourself.

You loved it.

Always a know-it-all, so you would hate to admit it outloud, but Suguru was already making you feel more excitement than any frat boy you had been with. Lack of hands-on experience be damned. You’re losing it as his lips sensually flutter against your collarbone.

“Y-you s-said only fingers, S-Sugu!”

Your voice lacks any real reprimand as you are arching up into his touches and quivering for more. Suguru obliges as he alternates between delicate nips and open mouth kisses sinfully marking you. Groaning into the crook of your neck Suguru savors the lingering taste of your perfume and the natural saltiness of your skin.

Returning his attention back to your ear Suguru’s breath trails over your skin until your lobe is once again trapped between his moist lips. He lightly tugs it between his teeth before giving it a sharp bite.

“AHH!”

The sting sends a jolt of electricity shooting straight into your cunt and a strangled noise escapes your lips. Your knees are starting to buckle but Suguru’s quick reflexes stopped your legs from clamping together all the way, bracing you.

Taking your hands and leading them to the backs of your thighs, Suguru is making you steady yourself back into a spread position for him and gives you strict instructions not to move.

“Good girl… This should be more than obvious now Bunny, but there are erogenous zones all over your body that connect to the pleasure nerve endings here.”

Suguru’s voice is silky as his index finger tows long strokes over the slit of your clothed cunt and applies pressure on your clit for emphasis. Whines fumble out of you when Suguru switches from steady swipes to idle flicks with pads of his fingers and your legs twitch again once more.

“It's important to simulate multiple areas simultaneously and I only have two hands, don’t I? You don’t mind Y/N do you?”

You still can’t bear to look Suguru in the eyes, much less respond vocally so you just shake your head.

“Feeling good, Bunny? Which do you like better, the strokes or the flicks?”

Your eyes squeeze shut from Suguru demonstrating both over your covered cunt. You try not to tear up but the amount of autonomy you had in this situation was new to you. Embarrassed and vulnerable you’re realizing that in spite of all your sexual experiences you still don’t feel comfortable expressing your needs.

“Hey, Y/N–”

Suguru clutches your face in his massive grip, squishing both your cheeks with a single hand and forcing your glassy eyes back on him. It was hard to focus on what he was saying anyway while you cooed from the feather-like circles he had been drawing on your clit.

“–you have to talk to me. This and sex in general, is just another form of communication. It won't work well and you definitely won’t squirt unless you can express to your partner what feels good and what doesn’t.”

You are sure he can feel the heat gathering in your cheeks radiating off your skin.

“Stop t-teasing S-Sugu… I-I know you can tell it’s good.”

Suguru eases his hold on you, his smirk deepening at your complaint.

“Oh I can, tell Bunny. Believe me. Your pussy, she’s so sensitive no matter how much you try to hide it from me. But I still need to hear it from your mouth regardless.”

The hand playing with your cunt splays out and Suguru fully cups you in his hands. The pulsing of your clit vibrates against his palm even through your panties.

“If you’re going to be a slut Bunny, at least be a vocal one. Be a slut for your own pleasure...this fat n’pretty cunt of yours deserves it.”

Suguru’s mouth is mere millimeters above yours, floating suspended both your lips are parted as you’re sharing the same air. The dizzying effect of breathing him in only intensifies with his words.

“Or perhaps you just get off on the idea of being free use?”

Suguru chuckles but doesn’t make you answer that question in favor of pulling back from you to inspect the large wet spot you soaked through your cheer panties from all of his taunting.

Pleased he gives your clothed pussy a smack, the moisture underneath the flimsy fabric evident in the soft squelchy sound that fills the room.

Smack, another moist sound echoes from your cunt.

“Oh, looks like she’s ready. This mouth down here is so much more talkative, Bunny.”

Hooking his fingers in the fabric Suguru peels your soaked cheer panties to the side, whistling at the thick strings of your essence that lingered between your cunt and your panties.

“So fucking wet, the prettiest most obedient lil’ pussy, aren’t you?”

A fleeting thought of sassing Suguru since yours is the first real pussy he has actually even seen up close dissipates as soon as your entrance flutters against his two thick fingers that rub over your uncovered opening.

Involuntary bucking your hips, the burning urge to feel him inside you is all you care about now, pride be damned.

You want him.

“Sugu–”

“–Shhh!”

Suguru cuts your pleas short.

“Don’t interrupt Doctor Geto when he’s speaking with his favorite patient, Bunny… Your nasty lil’ cunt is really begging for her treatment, isn’t she?”

You pout at him, quieting down while Suguru rewards your submission by slipping into your folds once more, entering fully past your entrance and into your gummy walls. It’s only a single digit inside you but your pussy is hungrily sucking him in deeper, trying to devour his middle finger whole.

Suguru murmurs intelligible obscenities from how warm and tight you are. He needs to find that spot.

Your hands struggle to keep your legs from quaking when you feel his finger, longer, thicker and far more pointed than your own, bottom out before languidly dragging delicious pressure back through you, exploring your walls in search of–

“Found her.”

Your ass jerks up and nearly off the desk entirely when his finger roughly prods into the firm spongy spot within your cunt you didn’t even know existed until now.

“FAH-FAH-FUHHCKKKKKKKKK–”

Your voice cracks and your vision blurs with tears that finally are cascading down your face smudging your mascara. Your reaction has you missing the wide-eyed look of amazement Suguru gives you utterly entranced by the way your entire body quivered from just a solid tap to the gland.

Suguru had expected an intense reaction. He’d seen and read about how temporary control of muscles and spasms were common when abusing this spot in women. But the one thing textbooks, articles, nor porn could prepare him for was how fucking sexy you’d be while he was doing it.

The ache in his pants has him groaning as he has to lean nearly his entire weight into you in order to get your lower half to settle back down on the desk. Pausing his movements inside of you, Suguru allows you to catch your breath.

Still the heavy pad of his finger is weighing down on you with enough force you still need to suck in your breaths, barely able to squeak out words.

“W-Wh-What is th-that S-Suguuu?!”

Suguru tells you not to worry about the actual name. It’s not very sexy, so you won’t remember it and it’s important that you do, so eventually he tells you to just call it the g-spot.

You groan at the loss of pressure on your g-spot when Suguru removes himself from you entirely in order to bring the finger that had been inside you to his lips. Watching him savoring the essence of your sweet cunt on his tongue, you couldn’t take any longer, finding your voice.

“Su-Surugu, N-Need–N-need more. P—please!”

Suguru obliges, slapping the fat of your ass teetering off the desk and lifts you as his knee slides under your hip. Leaning into you further, Suguru throws one of your shapely legs over his shoulder.

“Oh, you found your voice Bunny? Then tell me what my patient wants. Where does Doctor Geto need to touch you?”

“M-my pussy– fuck– p-please Sugu, wanna feel good there. She’ll be so good for you!”

Suguru’s pleased smile is your only warning before two of his large fingers plunge-in and bottom out inside your cunt, knocking against your cervix. Your jaw completely slacks as you groan at the sudden intrusion, allowing Suguru the perfect invitation to your mouth.

Wasting no time, Suguru crashes his lips into yours. The kiss is sloppy, hot and needy as any cries that attempted to leave you were drowned out in the wet cavern of Suguru’s mouth.

Fuck, you’re greedy as hell.

The kiss makes Suguru’s head spin and he loses himself in your sinful hunger as you wrap your arms around his neck and begin to dominate the kiss, sucking on his tongue. Soon Suguru finds himself groaning against your lips and slowly rocking his cock into the back of your thigh. Fuck, your body was too responsive, too eager for him to slut you out on his fingers.

Suguru couldn’t lose sight of the goal though, you needed to squirt so he needed to take back control.

Catching you off guard, he bullies a third finger– his ring finger, into your cunt as well. Breathless you break the kiss, your eyes sinking back into your head as you meet the thrusts of his fingers with the roll of your hips.

You aren’t able to control the way your body convulses as you writhe against Suguru. His massive body weighed over you as his hair fell in front of his face, hiding his crazed expression from you.

Suguru is also panting as he vigorously pumps the appendages into you. In and out, swirling them Suguru’s fingers take special care to zigzag sweet torment over your g-spot.

You’ve only felt the slight ghostings of this feeling before, nothing so pointed and focused on attacking this spot, while stretching your pussy so well in the process. You want– no need, to feel Suguru’s cock inside you next.

You could tell he must be huge. Heat was radiating off his girthy bulge as it twitched up against your ass cheek even through Suguru’s joggers. The thought causes the hot iron coil in your stomach to tense to its breaking point, begging for release.

Suguru notices.

“A-Are you gonna squirt for me, Y/N?”

For the first time his own voice is ragged, set on keeping his promise to you.

“S-Sugu, I-I– I want to but I–”

Your words catch in your throat as tears that are salty to the taste freely flow past your lips down your chin. You are unsure of what exactly to beg Suguru for even if you could do more than unintelligible babbles at the moment.

It’s coming– you panic— this feeling!

“W-w-ait! Nooo, S–Su–Sugu… I’m g-gonna pee. S-stop, p-puhleaseee!

Your hands slip against Suguru’s shoulders as you try in vain to push him away. So fearful that Suguru was wrong and you may actually piss all over him and his desk.

Suguru isn’t having it though, backhanding your clit with a harsh smack, his knuckle bullying into your bud.

The slap was followed by two more in quick succession, his other hand never slowing inside of you. Disregarding your pleas Suguru ventures even deeper into your guts while pressing down on your lower belly.

“I told you it’s not pee, Bunny. You don’t listen very well, do you?”

Suguru hiss at you, the stress of holding himself back as you fall apart on his fingers was nearly too much, he needed you to lay back, be good for him and take it.

“I-I’m s-sowy, Dr. Geto but– I– wanna–.”

You sniffle back more tears, which has Suguru calming himself in order to soothe you again.

“Shh Bunny, it’s okay– now ask your doctor nicely for what you need. Go on.”

At this point cuming, squirting, whatever Suguru you requires of you in order to release the feral sensations building within you is an essential need to live as much as taking your next breath.

“Doctor Geto, please let me cum! Sugu please! G-gonna s-squirt, gonna squirt s-so g-good for you!!”

“That’s right baby you will… Now squirt on me Bunny, make a pretty mess all over my fucking fingers.”

Timing a particularly hard jolt to your g-spot with simultaneous pressure from over your belly, has you tipping over the edge. Back arching you feel the gratifying release as you squirt hard, fluids spurting all over Suguru’s fingers and spilling down his forearms. The saccharine pleasure of it all is buzzing throughout every cell in your body as your eyes flutter back into your skull.

Your entire body feels like an extension of your pussy, pulsing in tune with your cunt and you don’t realize you are even screaming until Suguru’s mouth is on top of yours once again.

Suguru is tongue fucking your wails all the way back into the depths of your throat until they are mere raspy gurgles.

Riding out your orgasm you protest with choked cries as Suguru's hand abruptly leaves your cunt. Yet before you can process what’s happening you’re mewling loudly again once you feel his lips attacking your cunt. Sucking your clit between his lips, his own groans vibrate into your core making you all the more sensitive.

Your hands fly to him again, tangling up in his long raven locks and trying to push his head away.

Too much! You were far too sensitive right now for him to be lapping at your over stimmed cunt like a mad man.

“Stawwp–”

Your slurs fall on deaf ears as Suguru continues, only pulling back briefly to shush you.

“Haven’t got it all out. This pretty pussy is so fucking nasty she can give a little more, can’t you baby? I know she can.”

Suguru is speaking to you but he sounds a million miles away, focused only on your cunt as he returns to suckling on your clit, his teeth scraping lightly. He knows your pussy will give him the answer he is looking for soon enough.

The iron grip his arms have around your thighs holds you down allowing Suguru unimpeded access to dribble globs of his spit into your folds. His tongue flattens over your clit and his eyes smolder into yours before diving back into your pussy.

So close to cumming yet again your thick thighs clench around him as you unintentionally smother his face deeper into your core. Suguru ignores any need to take breaths, your cunt being the only sustenance needed as he rams his tongue further into your convulsing hole.

Shaking his head around sloppily, Suguru is goading your cunt into giving him more and more. His tongue is a mere worshiper in the temple between your thighs, begging your leaking pussy to give him the last morsels of your squirt.

Not having the willpower to deny him, your pussy gushes out more onto his tongue and shamelessly he swallows all of it as you cum all over again.

By the time Suguru detaches himself from your cunt he looks almost as wrecked as you: hair is matting to the sides of his face, his glasses are clouded with slick and your juices are dripping down his chin.

Although, now that Suguru has had a taste of you he is left craving more. Not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste Suguru is ferally slurping the drippings off your thighs and lowering his head to even zamboni the overflow of your essence off the desk beneath you. Ravenous with thirst for you Suguru is even using his mouth to squeeze out any droplets he could retrieve from your soaked cheer panties.

You on the other hand could only heave as you gasped for breath. Your legs are still twitching in the after shock of your intense orgasm and squirt session. Dizzy and dazed you feel yourself fading out, unsure of how much time has passed or what Suguru was still doing between your legs until the familiar ring of your phone slowly guides you back into the present.

Wiping his face with the back of his hand Suguru stands up and pulls your phone out of his pocket.

The phone is still ringing as he looks down at it and snickers.

“It’s Toru, Y/N. Answer it.”

You give Suguru a frowny pout. You were barely conscious right now, you couldn't handle a drunkenly energetic Satoru.

Seeing you making no attempts to move, Suguru answers it for you and Satoru’s voice overflows through the speakerphone.

“Y/N! Y/N! Where are ya at!? We need the beer pong queen to make her appearance, I need a partner! Nanamin is too good to beat without you!”

Suguru held the phone out to you but you could respond in labored puffs.

“Y/N is taking a study break, a bit tired after her lesson.”

“–Oh it's you Suguru!”

You end up tuning Satoru out as he’s begging Suguru to come to the party with you which you already knew wasn’t going to happen even if he didn’t just make you squirt all over him.

Willing yourself to sit up, your body is immediately revitalized when your eye is drawn to how bricked Suguru currently is in his dark gray sweats.

Suguru arches his brow in amusement as you pull him forward by the band of his joggers. You hurriedly fumble to untie them, pushing them and his boxers down to reveal his hard cock.

The sight of it nearly has you squeeing.

You practically have hearts in your eyes as you gawk at Suguru’s cock, it’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen. The way his girth swayed in front of you as pre marbles on the tip has you openly salivating. To say his length and thickness is above average, was a massive understatement.

You can’t estimate a size but you know he is huge as you eye the a large vein on the underside of his cock that seemed to weigh him down even though fully erect. You squirmed at the thought of that vein scraping inside your pussy as Suguru pounded you.

You need to feel it. Now.

Nevertheless, it isn’t until Suguru snaps his fingers in front of your face did you realize Gojo was now addressing you again through the phone.

“Y/N! You there?! I failed with Sugu! He’s lame! But you’ll be here soon right???”

A sharp contrast to just 30 mins earlier but partying was the last thing on your mind now. You needed to get Satoru off the phone and Suguru’s cock inside you expeditiously.

“Mhm-nh, Toru sorry, I–I really need to get a good grade. I need Sugu to tutor me a bit more. C-Can’t afford to flunk out!”

Although you had teased Suguru earlier about popping his cherry, you didn’t care if he was a virgin now. He had more than proved himself despite his lack of hands-on sexual experience.

You weren’t really paying attention to Satoru any longer as Suguru motions for you to lay back again. Readily, you get in position returning your legs to a stirrup pose.

Suguru rewards your obedience with his cock slapping against your clit.

“Mmmm…FUHH-CK-AH!”

You don’t care that Satoru is still on the line as Suguru is slipping his cock under your cheer panties, rubbing his fat tip along your folds. His cock sandwiched between your messy cunt and the soaked fabric has Suguru groaning at the crazy sensation, he could bust like this for sure.

“Huh? Oh.. OHHHHHH! Haha, I see, I see! Suguru’s lessons are the best, aren’t they Y/N?”

You’re openly moaning now. Barely registering Toru’s words as Suguru grunts, increasing the pace he’s bullying his cockhead across your clit.

“Y-yeah, the besssst-ahhh!”

Satoru, feeling more than a bit left out, starts pouting over the phone.

“Hey, no fair playing with Bunny without me Sugu! Let me join ne–”

Suguru abruptly cuts Satoru’s complaints short, hanging up on him while still rutting his tip over your pussy. His pre leaking out in globs and mixing with your own cum still dripping from you.

He wanted you all to himself, for now at least.

Satoru could fuck off.

“Gawwd Sugu–just fuck m–”

You abruptly stop as your face falls in realization when you feel his warm cum pour over your mound and into your cheer panties.

Suguru is spilling so much of his thick load into you it's even coming out the sides of your cheer panties and running down into the crack of your ass. A few more jerks of his cock through your folds and he is quickly pulling back to tuck his softening length back into his sweats.

“N-no,no no no S-Sugu! Suguru! I-t’s okay you came fast but please— fuck me. I’ll even let you raw me and cum inside puhleaseeee Sugu– need to squirt again all over your cock!”

You don’t know the kind of willpower it takes Suguru to refuse you.

Probably one of the hardest things he’s done in his life, especially as fresh tears trickle from your eyes and he knows you’d be crying just as adorably on his cock. You were too sexy, too perfect and he wanted to fuck you just as badly as he knew you wanted him to.

BUT– more importantly he wanted to enjoy you more than for a quick fuck and if he indulged you now, he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t be relentlessly tearing up your sweet slutty pussy all night.

If you didn’t start studying for real you were definitely going to get kicked out of school and he can’t have that, especially not now after this.

Masking his own lust with a stern instructor voice Suguru chastises you as he ties his hair back onto a bun and begins to give his glasses a proper cleaning before adjusting the books and papers on his desks around you back into their correct piles.

“Absolutely out of the question. Now be a good girl and pull up your panties, Y/N. We have a lot of ground to cover tonight.”

Sticky with Suguru’s cum, frustrated and still horny you groaned loudly but obeyed. You knew Suguru meant business.

You hoped if you listened to him well enough you’d get what you wanted by the end of the night. It would suck for you to suffer through studying but it was the best motivation you had in literal years.

Unfortunately for you, Suguru, focused on the bigger picture, had a larger goal in mind.

“Only smart sluts get dick, Bunny. You’d better get an A on that exam Monday if you really want this cock.”

a/n: I would be willing to write a part 2 (some time in the future) of y/n popping Sugu cherry or even y/n getting double teamed by 'The Boom Bros' as a 'thank you' for taking the fall for them if there was interest. I'm kind of fond of this little college AU.

Reblog for an anatomy lesson from Nerd!Geto but likes and comments are also appreciated as always!

NEXT is back to my own ficcys! Upcoming: The Nursery - Yakuza!Toji x Y/N - teaser/taglist: ╰┈➤here. Delays cause I've been without my adhd meds and getting the first part of the fic beta'd for once but I FINALLY got them today and was able to finish this fic so hopefully I can get back on track! send me good vibes y'all!

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yoon-kooks · 1 year

Text

paired & pierced | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: When your professor assigns a collaborative midterm project, you’re paired up with Jeon Jungkook, the quiet grumpy smartass who keeps to himself and doesn’t fuck with popular kids like you. If you can win him over, he might give you a taste of the tatted and pierced body he’s carefully tucked away beneath those oversized hoodies.

⛓️word count: 5.3k

⛓️warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected rough sex, daddy kink, good girl kink, she's tight, he's big, fingering, mutual masturbation, begging, edging, orgasm denial, cumshot, dick tattoo, not the soft jjk i usually write

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: this is a request from @screamertannie !💖 im not used to writing dom/sub stuff but i tried!! paired & puppy-eyed is jungkook's pov✨

It’s become somewhat of a pre-class ritual for the gals to gather around your desk to discuss anything from the latest frat party hookups to guessing the lengths of your male classmates. The gossip doesn’t particularly interest you, and you’ve never once contributed to the cock talk. But who are you to tell them to leave you alone? If people naturally gravitate toward you, you should see it as a good thing.

“I heard that hottie Tim is single again,” Blue Hair Girl says, turning to you with the curious eyes of a true gossiper. “Y/N, you were hanging out with him at that party last weekend, weren’t you? Is he as big as they say?”

“Didn’t see it.” And you’re glad you didn’t. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt when he approached you, but he kept pulling you in for PDA conveniently when his ex was in sight. He was clearly using you for something you want no part of. In the end, you let him off easy by saying you had to leave early to feed your fish (you don’t have any fucking fish).

“Aw, that’s too bad.” Blue Hair Girl and the others give you a few pouty frowns.

“Yep.” Not really.

“Well, speaking of hotties, I’ve been trying to get Hoseok’s attention for a week now,” Nose Ring Girl sighs. She suddenly grasps your hands and pleads, “Wait, Y/N, you’re friends with him, right? Think you can give me his number?”

You wouldn’t call Hoseok a “friend”—he’s more of an acquaintance you happen to be friendly with, much like everyone sitting around you. But you do have his number. You have a lot of people’s numbers on your phone even though you can’t match any of their names to their faces.

“Here.” You flash your phone screen with Hoseok’s contact info before Nose Ring Girl. Her eyes light up like fireworks.

“Thank you so much, Y/N! You’re the best!” she squeals.

Toward the end of class, your professor announces something that makes your stomach turn.

“The midterm will be a partner project where you have to debug the code I assign to you and add on to it in a creative way,” she explains. “And because I’m nice, I’ll let everyone choose their own partners. Please let me know who you’ll be working with before taking off.”

You hate this. You’re surprisingly okay about the debugging part because the masochist in you kind of enjoys it, but you’re not okay with the partner part. When it comes to choosing partners, it never ends well for you. Because despite how many people you surround yourself with, you always struggle to find someone who chooses you before anyone else.

You’re no one’s number one.

This time is no different. The girls who were so happy to be gossiping at your desk an hour ago are partnering up with one another on the other side of the room. Among them, Nose Ring Girl doesn’t appear to have coupled up yet, so she might be your only shot. Besides, you did her a favor earlier by giving her Hoseok’s number. The least she can do is partner up with you.

“Y/N, guess what?” She skips over to your desk with a big fat smile on her face. “I just texted Hoseok, and he asked to partner up with me. It’s all thanks to you, babe!”

“Oh, cool.” You try not to sound so disheartened.

She gives you a quick hug before heading back to the boy you indirectly set her up with. You’re happy for her, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t suck. Whether intentional or not, it feels like everyone who comes near you just wants something from you—love advice, a boy’s number, PDA to make their ex jealous, or even answers to the homework—which is fine to an extent. The problem is that people keep taking, and you’re tired of not even getting the bare minimum in return.

To top it all off, Big Tim is headed your way. Yes, you want a partner. No, it’s not going to be him. You’ll pick literally anyone else in the class over him. The question is: who else doesn’t have a partner yet? People are paired up left and right.

Except for maybe the boy sleeping in the seat right next to you.

“Jungkook,” you say in a half-hushed half-hurried voice. The boy doesn’t move an inch. Maybe he’s dead.

You hop out of your chair, stand in front of his desk, and tap on the wooden surface in front of his face. Still no response.

Aware that Big Tim is inching his way closer, you crouch down to hide as if that’ll buy you more time. The boy in front of you needs to wake up right now.

You reach toward his slumped-over body and peel off his hood. There’s a good chance he isn’t dead and just didn’t hear you because he had earbuds in or something. You hope.

No earbuds. But you do find something worth noting—a trail of empty piercing holes up his earlobe. You don’t know Jungkook all that well, but he’s been in a bunch of your comp sci classes and you’ve never seen any piercings on him. You’d remember something like that because you’re a huge sucker for boys covered in piercings and body art. All you remember is that he’s quiet and always gets the highest grades on exams because he’s a genius or whatever.

“Hey Jungkook,” you whisper into his ear and tap one of his fingers. A sleepy eye finally peeks at you. Thank god he isn’t dead. “Wanna be partners?”

He sits up slowly, adjusts his glasses, and looks around the classroom before turning back to your puppy eyes. “Sure, I guess.”

“Good, good,” you sing, scurrying back to your seat. Partner secured. Mission accomplished. Just in the nick of time.

“Y/N, still looking for a partner?” Big Tim asks at your desk.

“I’m actually partnered up with Jungkook, sorry.” You give an apologetic smile. You really need to stop that. If you had just been brutally honest with him the other day at the party, he wouldn’t be here bugging you now.

“That kid asked you to be his partner?” He points a finger at “that kid” who appears to have gone back to sleep.

You nod even though you were the one who technically asked Jungkook.

“And you said yes?”

You nod again. Big Tim continues to stare as if he’s waiting for you to abandon Jungkook for him. Maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole in the first place, you wouldn't be actively avoiding him like the plague. He had his chance.

After several awkward seconds, he finally backs off and Jungkook rises from the dead once more.

“Why didn’t you just partner up with that other guy? It sounded like he wanted to work with you,” Jungkook yawns as he fluffs his bedhead around. He looks so nice and toasty in that hoodie. No wonder why he falls asleep in class so easily.

“That’s not what he wanted.” He wanted to use you to hurt someone else. And you don’t want to be taken advantage of anymore.

“What about everyone else? Aren’t you friends with everyone here?” That’s just the illusion you’ve created. It feels so fake.

You shake your head. “Let’s just say, if a house were on fire and these people had a choice to save either me or one of their actual friends, I’d burn down with the house 10/10 times.”

“And who would you save?” he challenges you. That’s an easy question.

“No one.”

“Good answer.” The edge of his lips curves upward ever so slightly. “Alright, if it’s cool with you, I’ll just do the project myself and slap your name on it. Shouldn’t take me longer than an hour.”

“Wait, I wanna contribute too, you know,” you argue. He might be a smartypants, but you’re not the type of person to slack off and make him do all the work. You wouldn’t be surprised if other people take advantage of him on group projects like this. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t even bother with fake social interactions with peers the way you do. You admire him for that. “We should meet up and work on it together over the weekend.”

“I’m busy,” he says. Bullshit. You can tell when people make up excuses to get out of things because you’re guilty of it too. The difference is that Jungkook doesn’t sugarcoat it with coverup stories like needing to feed your nonexistent fish. Why do you find that so attractive?

“Busy with what?” You flutter your eyelashes and challenge him the way he challenged you. The fact that you’re fighting over the right to help with the project is both silly and refreshing. Usually, it’s the opposite where you’re forced to plead with your group to pull their own weight. But here you are, practically begging the boy to let you do some coding with him. Him pushing you away is a huge turn-on.

“My newborn.” He says it with such a straight face that you take his word for it.

“You have a child?” Your eyes sparkle. That either makes him a young single dilf or a committed family man you probably shouldn’t be batting your eyes at. For everyone’s sake, you hope it’s the former. “If it’s easier for you and the little one, we can work at your place?”

For a long while, he just blinks at you like you’ve said something horribly wrong. Oh no. Maybe he’s still with the kid’s mom and now he thinks you’re trying to invade their space and be some kind of homewrecker.

“I was just fucking with you…” he admits. Why does it feel like he has secondhand embarrassment from your gullible ass? It’s fine, though. You much prefer being gullible over the homewrecker angle. Then he inputs his number and address into your phone. “But if it makes you feel better, come babysit my kid tomorrow.”

The next day, you wake up a little earlier, dress a little cuter, and feel a little more excited than usual. You’re usually indifferent (if not stressed) about hangouts and parties, but Jungkook is different. It’s fun talking to him, and you don’t have to put on a fake smile around him. He’s even got that hot grumpy boy vibe that you’re determined to win over.

After knocking on his door, you wait for a good minute but there’s no response. Maybe he’s still asleep or butt-naked in the shower. You would’ve messaged him that you were on the way, but you were scared he might have second thoughts and cancel the meetup altogether. You’ve lost count of how many times that’s happened to you in your college career.

Just as you lift your fist to knock again, the door swings open. The boy who stands before you has a full sleeve of tattoos, too many piercings to count, a whole man bun, and a handsome face that looks exactly like Jeon Jungkook’s. You didn’t know he had an identical twin with a totally different style. If he wore glasses with a hoodie and took the man bun and piercings out, he’d literally be your quiet neighbor from coding class. It’s fascinating.

“Isn’t it common courtesy to give someone a heads-up before showing up at their door?” he says with his phone in hand. Same grouchy attitude though. You love it.

Wait. You suddenly remember all those mysterious piercing holes you discovered on Jungkook’s ear less than 24 hours ago.

“Why do you look like that?” You point a finger at him as if your question isn’t already rude enough. Maybe you should rephrase it. “I mean, if I’d given you a heads-up, would you have thrown on a hoodie and removed all your piercings before I got here?”

“Maybe.” He lets you into his home, but you’re more concerned about all the sick art on his arm. If he ever rolled up his sleeves in class, you know you’d be too distracted to focus on the lecture. Perhaps that’s why he keeps it all hidden. He’s just looking out for you and your higher education. Yeah right.

“Why do you hide all of this at school?” You’re sure everyone would be coming to you for his number if they knew what he was hiding up his sleeve.

“Tattoos and piercings give people something to talk about,” he explains. “And I’m not really a fan of compliments or small talk.”

Oh. He’s aware of the physical and emotional impact his body art would have on anyone lucky enough to see it with their own eyes. Your poor body is already aching to see more.

“Fine, I won’t talk about how pretty I think your tattoos are.” Or about how hot you find his lip piercing. You’ve always wanted to kiss someone with a lip ring. You’re feeling pouty all of a sudden so you bring out the puppy eyes again.

He studies the way you shamelessly work your charm on him, and you wonder if he picks up on the temptation in your pupils. “I’ll grant you permission to give one single compliment,” he huffs, finally giving in.

You’re quick to wrap your eager paws around his arm and examine it like it’s your most prized possession. The problem is, he has way too many tatts and piercings to fit into a single compliment. You could write a whole essay expressing your love for each piece you see, and that doesn’t even include the ones still buried beneath his clothes.

“Well? Are you gonna fangirl over my tattoos or just keep fondling my arm?” Funny how he’s acting all impatient and bothered by the “fondling” but doesn’t shrug you off of him. In fact, he was the one who lent you his arm in the first place!

“I wish I could see all of them.” That’s your compliment. Because you love the lusting implications behind it.

You flick your eyes up from his arm to his face, and sure enough, he’s got his eye on you as well. It’s almost a crime that it took this long for the two of you to come together like this. You’ve been neighbors in coding class for the past few weeks, and yet you were too busy with the popular crowd and he was too busy not giving a fuck about them. All you want to do now is make up for lost time.

The only thing that distracts you from the boy is a puffy tail minding its own business in the corner of your eye. When you look down, you’re pleasantly surprised to see the tiniest fluffball dropping a mouse toy at your feet.

“Ooh kitty,” you squeal as you squat down to play with the pink-nosed darling. It’s so tiny it fits in the palm of your hand, and its meows sound more like squeaks. “Wait, is this the newborn you were talking about?”

Jungkook nods. “I found her about a week ago and she’s been a menace ever since. Especially in the middle of the night.”

“Is that why you’ve been falling asleep in class lately?” You like the thought of him scolding the kitten for zooming around at 4AM only to fall back asleep with her on his chest. You’ll take a cat dilf any day.

“Yeah. But it also doesn’t help that the professor never says anything important.” He picks up the mouse toy and drops it off with her stash of goodies including a pink bed, a pink blanket, and a pink bunny plushie. The kitten hops into the bed, cuddles up with her bunny, and has the boy cover her up with the blanket. What a spoiled little thing. “So what’s this project about again?”

“You’d know if you were listening!” Gosh, you can’t stand smart people who sleep through every lecture and still come out on top while you’re taking notes and working your ass off. You still want to fuck him though.

“I’m just fucking with you again.” He finally cracks a whole ass smile and it’s beautiful. You’re mesmerized by it as he scoots you over to the computer in his room. “I already finished it, by the way.”

So much for fulfilling your dreams of coding with an exceptionally handsome boy. With a dramatic sigh of disappointment, you run the program on his screen.

As expected, it runs smoothly, free of any bugs. He even threw in an interactive portion with a sleeping kitty. Total cat dad vibes. It’s great, and there’s really no need for you to tamper with the work he’s done. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of being the one to carry you on this project. Besides, you have an idea of how you can spice up the program and expand on the kitty part.

You spend a good amount of time going through the code line-by-line and inserting small bits here and there. Once you get to the kitty part, you add in a function to wake up the cat and have it start dancing around to a few different songs from your favorite kpop group. When it’s all set, you run it back, earn Jungkook’s stamp of approval, and submit it for your professor to grade.

“Are you sure that Jim guy wasn’t trying to be your partner just to get a good grade? Nerd.” He leans on the chair over your shoulder. You’d correct him on Big Tim’s name, but you’re too focused on the way he looks at you with such gorgeous dark eyes.

“If that were the case, he would’ve asked for a threesome with you too, Nerd,” you fire back. This is the kind of banter that results from putting two smartasses and an immense amount of sexual tension in the same room together. You want more of it.

“Not particularly interested in a threesome with him,” he says rather casually. “Doubt you would be either, judging by that game of dodgeball you were playing yesterday.”

“Well yeah, he’s kind of an asshole.” You shudder at the thought of almost being stuck as Big Tim’s partner. It’s thanks to Jungkook that you escaped that fate.

“Why do you hang out with those people anyway?” He spins your chair around to face outward and lays himself down on his bed next to the kitten who just woke up from her nap. She’s cleaning her paws like a good girl.

“I know I have a lot of shallow connections, but I figure if I surround myself with enough people, I’ll eventually have to run into someone I genuinely like, right?” You hop out of the chair, sit your ass on the edge of the bed, and convince yourself it’s to play with the kitty. She jumps down right away to catch a fly but you don’t chase after her.

“Found anyone yet?” he asks, gazing up at the ceiling like it’s the night sky. What did you ever do to deserve seeing this handsome boy and his tattoos all laid out on the bed like this? You’d do it a million more times.

“There might be a boy I’m interested in,” you hum.

“I bet it’s Jim, isn’t it?” he laughs. Why is “Jim” the one name this guy knows from your class? “You know, like a passionate love-hate type thing?”

“Fuck no.” You shimmy your ass closer to him and block his scenic view of the ceiling with your face. Now it’s you he’s gazing up at. You’re free to admire the tempting ring around his soft lip, the glimmering piercing through his brow, and all his beautiful features that have drawn you to him. You look him in the eye and lie because you know he already knows the truth. “Never mind, it’s no one.”

“Really?” All of a sudden, he pulls your body down against the mattress and climbs on top of you. One hand holds your wrists above your head while the other caresses your cheek. He leans in close but stops half a centimeter from your lips. “I was under the impression you were kind of into me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You were begging to work on this project with me yesterday, fondling my arm as soon as you got here, practically eyefucking me a minute ago,” he pauses as his hand unzips your jeans and presses into the folds between your legs. “And you’re pretty wet for me right now.”

You want to lunge at him and devour his lips to prove how right he is, but your arms are still being held captive. He smirks at your failed attempt to bite him. For now, you have to settle for squeezing your thighs against his hand to get the tiniest bit of stimulation.

“So if it’s not me, who’s this boy you’re interested in?” he whispers into your ear as you feel his hand slipping out from your pleasure spot. “I won’t continue until I get an answer.”

It’d be kinda badass if you had the willpower to keep your lips sealed for at least a minute, but you give in after 0.3 seconds. You never had a fighting chance anyway. “It’s you, Jungkook.”

He smashes his lips against yours, his tongue practically down your throat when he says, “Good girl.”

The ring around his lower lip is cold to the touch, but you keep going in for more. You love the way he tastes—like sweet alcohol that encourages you to keep indulging in the high. He’s so addicting.

At the same time, he helps you kick off your jeans and slides his whole hand back into your panties. He swirls his fingers around, coating them in your lust before rubbing over your clit. The jolt of pleasure draws a soft moan from your mouth and gets your body nice and hot. Normally, you’d be eager to get your hands back to join in on the fun, but the boy somehow knows exactly how you like being touched and toyed with. Plus, you kinda like the idea of being so helpless beneath him.

Eventually, your panties come off, followed by your shirt and his. You get the perfect view of his full sleeve as well as the big shark tattoo on his ribs. If you weren’t so horny, you’d drop everything to analyze each piece in depth. But right now, all your weak mind can handle is admiring the shark.

As soon as he lets your wrists breathe, you run your fingers along his ribs, tracing the tattoo from head to tail. The lines are so smooth and pretty. He has great taste in art and apex predators. You’ll have to ask him for the artist later so you can get yourself a baby shark at your hip.

“Got any others I should know of?” you ask with two paws ready to tear his black jeans off of him.

“Just one.” He presses his face into the crook of your neck and sucks hard to mark you as his. You can’t wait for Big Tim to see it on Monday. “You’re gonna have to earn it, though.”

You’ll do anything to get his pants off and find that final tattoo. You need to see his bare body in full, and you have an idea of how to earn it.

“Please?” For the hundredth time, you bring out the puppy eyes because that might be his only weakness. His body twitches a tiny bit, but you realize you have to take it up a notch with the dilf angle. “Please, daddy?”

The word not only makes your face hot but also taunts the bulge ready to burst out of his pants. He watches with immense focus as you unbuckle him and free his hard cock from all the fabric standing in its way.

You assumed you would’ve had to search his skin for that last tattoo, but it’s staring you right in the face. A fat snake slithers along his cock, tempting you to stroke it with its seductive glare. You’d appreciate the design more if not for the fact that snakes eat cute little lizards like salamanders and chameleons, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t incredibly hot.

Without thinking, you wrap both of your hands around his length the same way you had with his arm. Jungkook would probably use the term “fondling” again if he wasn’t so entranced by your touch. If he’s like this with just your hands, you wonder how he’d fare with your whole mouth around him.

Just as you lick the drool from the corner of your lips, he lifts your chin up to meet his gaze. “If you do good today, I’ll let you have a taste tomorrow, yeah?”

Tomorrow is too long of a wait for a starved babe like yourself, but you nod anyway because you want to be praised again.

“Good girl,” he purrs as he removes the final piece of clothing over your breasts. Then he leans back to get your whole bare body in sight. “Can you show daddy how you want to be touched?”

You start by squeezing your breasts together and working your way down to your core. Your legs spread themselves open and your fingers glide right in. One hand pumps in and out of your hole while the other strokes your clit. You’re so wet you’d think you’d already orgasmed several times if you didn’t know any better.

With shy eyes, you glance up at the boy watching your every move. This is the first time someone has ever dropped everything to watch you touch yourself. You usually just tease your clit a little if the cock inside you isn’t enough, but never once has a boy given you his full attention like this. He might not take any notes in class, but he’s definitely jotting a few things down for the next time it’s his turn to play with you.

Your fingers speed up and your panting gets louder. How long is he going to make you suffer before he takes over? The one thing you need right now is for him to fuck you senseless.

But instead of getting handsy with you, he grabs his cock and forces you to watch—not that you’d look away anyway.

“Do you want this cock inside your tight little pussy?” he says rather calmly as he jerks off.

You nod as a gasp for more pleasure escapes you.

“Beg for it.”

“Please daddy,” you whimper, giving up the last of your dignity. “I need you inside my tight little pussy.”

“Such a good girl.” He throws your legs over his shoulders and pushes himself into you. It’s definitely a tight fit, but your body adjusts to him accordingly. You almost lose it when you hear the way he grunts your name.

As he pounds in and out of you, you feel yourself getting dangerously close. “Jungkook, I’m—”

“Don’t cum yet,” he warns. “Not until I say so.”

You wish you’d known he was the type to torture you for one single release. If you’d known sooner, you would’ve tried to pace yourself. Now you’re stuck on the edge without permission to orgasm. You love it here.

In the meantime, he gives you some more sloppy kisses. His tongue doesn’t have to fight for dominance over your docile one, but he’s certainly not holding back. That, in combination with the forceful thrusting down below, is your definition of the best rough sex.

At some point, the pleasure begins to melt altogether into a foggy haze of feral lust. Your moans have been reduced to a broken record machine, and your poor body is just waiting to hear the word to finally hit its high. You don’t even know how much time has passed.

“You poor thing,” he growls into your mouth. On pure instinct, you tighten around him and feel him tense up. “Do you enjoy it when I tease you like this?”

You nod without thinking too hard about it.

“Think you can go another hour?”

Hell no, but you nod anyway.

“I’m not that mean,” he chuckles as his hands slide up and down your limp legs. “But good to know.”

He quickens the pace to build the pleasure back up with you still so tight around him. Your obnoxious moans and whimpers give porn star vibes. He better let you get your release soon if he doesn’t want any complaints from his neighbors.

“Please, Jungkook, I can’t—” you gasp, biting back the impending wave of pleasure. Your claw marks are etched into his ribs. “Please let me cum.”

Satisfied with your begging, he nods with the cockiest smile you’ve ever seen and gives you the okay. It feels like your whole body breaks into a million pieces of pure pleasure. Your back arches, your walls tighten even more around him, and your chest heaves up and down as you ride the wave out.

Not long after, he pulls out and pumps his fat cock over your breasts until they’re covered in his lust like two glazed donuts. He admires your glossy worn-out body for a good while before tossing you a hand towel to clean up. You feel timid and small all of a sudden. What if there’s nothing left to say after the excitement of sex has come and gone? What if he shrugs you aside like everyone else does once they get what they want from you?

“Did you really call me daddy?” He throws his pants back on and joins you back on the bed. You can tell he’s trying his best to hide a smile, but you see through him. It’s adorable.

“I thought you were into it, no?” Your face is flushed with heat again as you slip back into your outfit.

“It’s cute coming from you, I guess,” he shrugs as if he’s not aware of how weak he is to your baby girl charm. “I was just going with it because you said it first.”

“Well if you don’t like it, I won’t say it next time.” You give him a hmph for extra emphasis.

“I didn’t say that,” he clarifies, almost a little too quickly. You knew it.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Your voice is soft.

“Go for it.”

“Why did you invite me over even though you finished most of the project yourself?” It’s been in the back of your mind all day, although you did shove it away during the sex.

“Well, my little demon cat kept me up all night so I thought I might as well work on it. And you were hard set on coming here, weren’t you?” he says. You nod for him to continue. “But also, I wanted you to know that there’s at least one person in our class who’d save you from that house on fire.”

He’d choose you. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you.

“Yeah, but you hate everyone else, so I’m your only option.” Your smartass can’t help but point out the flaw in his statement. If anything, it’s you challenging him one last time.

“Maybe you’re the only option that matters,” he hums to himself as if those words don’t mean a thing. Who knew a grumpy boy could say such soft things? And who knew you’d fall for it?

If a hundred shallow friendships is what it took to bring you to this moment—this boy on this bed—then you’re glad you took that route. And you’re even happier that that route ends where this new one begins.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts college au #nerd jungkook #jungkook #bts

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nightwingbb · 2 months

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What do you think Jon and Damian would pick for their college majors? Who’s more stressed out at the end of the semester?

thank you for this question, anon, because i have strong opinions on this!! strong to the point that in all of the college au's that i've written (or am writing 👀) damian and jon's majors are always the same, even if it's not mentioned and it just lives rent free in my head

damian is an animal science major with a pre-vet concentration. does it make more sense canonically that damian would probably work for and/or take over wayne enterprises and should therefore be majoring in business? yes. but he will forever be an animal science major (and eventually a veterinarian) in my head. "oh, but nightwingbb, he never shows any interest in being a vet, he just likes animals!" and to that i say one of my best friends from college hated science but loved animals, so she majored in animal science and now she loves her job as a vet tech so HA

jon is an education major. i know that in and out of canon, he's usually written as a journalism major, but i didn't want to make him a copy/paste of clark. plus, i was a journalism major in college, and i honestly couldn't see jon enjoying the major. since news is all digitized now, half of the required major courses aren't even on journalism anymore. i learned video editing, social media management, photoshop, basic web coding, etc. and i just couldn't imagine jon getting as into that as i am. after deciding he would Not be a journalism major, i actually struggled with what jon's major would be for a while when i first started writing navigating life back in 2020. i even posed the question here on tumblr asking for ideas because i was simply at a loss. then @liameowlia pointed out that jon is good with people, has a strong will to help, and radiates empathy and suggested i go from there. that, plus a fanfiction that i cannot remember ANYTHING about aside from the fact that it depicted jon as a teacher (literally don't even remember what the story was), led me to education major jon <3

apologies for the rant, anon, i know you probably didn't want a whole dissertation on WHY i chose these majors for the boys, but to answer your next question:

jon is definitely waaayy more stressed than damian come end of semester finals seasons. damian is haughty and overly confident and probably feels like if he studies for even just a few minutes, there's literally no way in hell that he won't pass his finals. not to mention that he's a classic rich kid who doesn't have that "if i have to retake this class, it'll cost me $3,000" stress hanging over his head lol

#damijon #jondami #this was a fun one to answer!#college damijon my beloveds

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ready-to-obeyme · 4 years

Text

[OM!] (American) College!AU Demon Brothers

Scenario: Headcanons on the demon brothers as college students (specifically in the US because I don’t know how college works elsewhere), their possible majors, career goals, extracurriculars, ~GPA~ and whatever else I could think of + how meet you in college

Note: I’m hoping to do a Part 2 with the Undateables but honestly… we’ll see lol. This is based off something ~A~ and I thought of for our specific university but we’ve made it broad enough to share HAHA this turned out VERY long

Lucifer

Majoring in Political Sciences with a minor in Psychology

Pre-Law-- most likely immigration law or child custody (there’s definitely a backstory here)

Initially went to community college for the first two years to save up money to take care of his younger siblings

Rejected an offer to go to an Ivy League because it was too expensive; if his siblings ever found out they’d be furious that he’d give up on that chance, but he knows he can succeed wherever he goes (and besides, family is first)

Transferred into a 4-year university his junior year

Very high GPA-- VERY

In a professional fraternity with Diavolo and Barbatos

He didn’t think he’d join one either but Diavolo was the vice chair when he transferred in and the president the year after so… ~nepotism?~ and also Lucifer is charming as heck so no surprise he’d get in

Also rooms with Diavolo and Barbatos

Goes to the gym regularly just to keep fit; gets goaded by Diavolo and Satan into joining an IM team with his frat brothers and actual brothers-- probably basketball or flag football

Probably meets you at a interclub council meeting and mutters under his breath how useless the board members are and you overhear

“Never have I met more incompetent people.”

“Lmao mood”

“!!!”

Keeps sitting next to you at every interclub meeting then after because at least there’s someone that can keep his mind stimulated (thinks you’re hot if you’re competent btw)

If you somehow meet him on campus, he’s the type of guy to put his hand up and pretend he didn’t see you (just kidding, he always ends up saying hi anyways)

Will Absolutely Lecture You if you are procrastinating on studying especially if your midterm is, like, TOMORROW

Always ends up studying with him because he’s actually focused on studying and glares at you if you get distracted (but hey you get good scores in the end)

Mammon

Majoring in Business Econ/Economics, Minoring in Statistics

(always ends up in the middle of the “is econ a humanities or a STEM major” debate that leaves him left for dead)

Planning to work in Business as Finance -- probably has been treasurer or finance director for a club; can even see him being a banker if it suits his plans better

Goes to a four-year university

Decent GPA (or Lucifer would absolutely destroy him), and does REALLY well in mathematics classes

Would room with Lucifer and his posse if they all go to the same school

Probably in a Business Frat as well because he’s pretty charismatic when it comes down to it but was an RA for some of his years for the free rooming and dining hall privileges

Is a very chill and understanding RA (as in he smokes weed with you when he’s off-duty) but is surprisingly well-versed in dealing with roommate issues

Works part-time (gasp) to buy stuff off of Amazon and go out to places

Spends a lot of time exploring places with his friends, going hiking, rock-climbing, clubbing-- which is expensive, as it turns out, so he needed to be able to afford it somehow

Meets you when you’re eating your lunch outside somewhere and he asks you if you have a dollar he could borrow for a vending machine snack

You exchange numbers with him so he can pay it back (even though you honestly don’t really need it, but why not) and turns out he’s in your GE class

“Heyyy wassup! So glad I have a friend in this class”

“Oh by the way, did you finish the homework? Haha, I forgot it.”

Mammon always repays you for your help in food though so you aren’t complaining

Leviathan

Majoring in Computer Sciences

And honestly that’s too much for me already-- the man is doing computer programming, coding-- WHEW-- and they do NOT rest

Goes to a community college but honestly has no problems cinching internships. The computer is his domain-- online applications are EASY, doing projects NOT as easy, interviews? HARD-- REALLY HARD (someone help him)

Probably intends to work with a big company like Google if only to help supply his income so he can live his life going to AX and buying merch

Most likely moved out of his house mid-college with his online friends (who are luckily compatible with him living-space wise) and visits home once a week

There’s two potential sides you can meet first:

Either you meet him at a convention and you both gush about the same character and anime and somehow find each other online (not college related)

Or his favorite Ruri-chan keychain gets broken off in the computer lab, and you’re the one running after him to give it him

He may or may not owe you his life after that (and if you enjoy anime, well that’s a bonus)

Both of these meetings can happen if he doesn’t recognize you in class because you were in cosplay-- imagine the surprise

The two of you as friends are MASTER PROCRASTINATORS at every assignment the two of you have-- so low-key not a great influence-- but you have fun together watching animes, playing games, talking about life-- anything but actual work

Always ends up scrambling to finish things-- but he keeps doing it because it’s been working for him so far

You help him prepare for interviews because he’s always nervous before each one regardless of how well his application looks

Satan

Majoring in Comparative Literature AND Anthropology (ya boy is doing the whole nine yards)

Planning to get his Master’s and then a PhD in one of his majors (whichever proves to be more engaging for him)-- visibly excited to become a Professor

College was meant for Satan-- like REALLY; the man is in LOVE with learning; most likely to go and be accepted to an Ivy-League after Lucifer but... truly believes you can get a good education anywhere so it depends on his financial standing (and how much scholarship he gets)

Does get a little disgruntled when his classes aren’t available but doesn’t mind learning something new-- if the professor bores him to death, he’ll read the book

Really good at tutoring people; someone suggests that he works as a peer-learning facilitator/writing tutor and he does-- might as well make bank doing something you always do anyways

Joins a writing/journal club as an extracurricular and a club that provides tutoring services to the underserved community-- surprisingly good with kids!

He knows friends in high places, so if he wanted to, could get into any party without batting an eye and his favorite professors love him

Spends a lot of his time going out to the city and exploring places, similarly to Mammon, rock-climbing, hiking, paragliding-- anything

He is VERY well-rounded as you can see; competes with Lucifer to see whose GPA is better though

You probably meet him during office hours, and you can only stare in awe as he asks questions that you had in mind, but better; if you’re visibly confused about something, he’ll take his time to help you too (it’s habit at this point)

Ask him for his contact info and you’ll get it, and maybe repay him in coffee? (You always see him at the cafe on campus.)

Most likely to have a specific spot in a cafe that he is always at that the workers actually save a spot for him or give him his usual order before he even arrives-- may or may not have helped them edit their essays or with their homework as a thank-you so you KNOW they’ll love him forever

The type of person to help you make flashcards and cram if you need it

Asmodeus

Majoring in Dance and Fine Arts (I HC going to NYU specifically)

Considering going for an Master of Fine Arts degree but he might just move to New York and go for being a Broadway Star

College is mainly just training for him and hoping to land gigs in local theater-- and the university theater if there is one-- and building his resume for his big break

Has SO many extracurriculars, all pertaining to his career choice, but also because he enjoys what he does: drama, competitive dance team, acapella, fashion design

Makes an unbelievable amount of friends, incredibly good at networking

The first time you saw him was when he was performing for a local theater and you were in love with his performance, and the next time you saw him in the hallway of a classroom building, you told him how much you enjoyed it

Always accepts compliments about his looks with grace, but there’s something about truly being admired for his acting and singing that has him preening

Invites you to come out to his next performance, and if not his, then to another play-- and it can be a date, but up to you ;)

The man is the KING of Multiple Talents and has big dreams to match

Always finds a way to hang out with you and drag you to every club that he can use his fake-id for (and when he’s actually 21 and above, gets a little offended that he doesn’t get ID’d)

A night in the town with you is always a good night!

Sometimes when he has practical exams coming up, he asks you to watch him perform-- and he likes your compliments but actually takes getting all the moves seriously so you better pay attention!

Most likely to move far away to reach his dreams, but he would take you with him if he could-- his little star

Beelzebub

Majoring in Physiological Sciences

Pre-Nursing or Pre-Sports Medicine

He’s a little undecided, but he’s definitely going to go into the health field because he likes the idea of being able to use his strength to help others

Gets a scholarship from the university because he’s part of the football team, which is actually pretty hard on him because Fall Semester/Quarter he has to keep skipping classes for games

Always brings a snack to eat with him during lecture-- and is not afraid to bring his entire lunch and make it right in the front row, though he tends to stick to the back because they tend to have electrical plugs

You most likely meet him during lecture: he offers you an entire sandwich (not a chip bag, not fruit snacks, an entire LUNCH) because he heard your stomach growl during class

From then on, you collect notes for him when he’s gone from games and even go to games if you aren’t usually the type to just to see how he’s doing; it’s hard trying to find you among the huge bleachers, but he always asks you where you’re sitting anyways

Really appreciate it if you help him study into late at night because it IS hard balancing sports and academics

He most likely doesn’t really have any time for anything else so he usually makes up for it during the rest of the year when training is less to volunteer in the hospital or at the gym as a personal trainer

If you ask him to teach you how to properly lift weights, he’ll definitely help out and the both of you can work out together-- though you feel bad when he has to add four extra weights to each side after you finish your reps

Belphegor

Majoring in Computer Graphics/Animation

Intending to go into making animation or game design-- is one of the brothers who doesn’t really know exactly what he wants to do yet because he’s afraid that doing what he loves as a job will ruin it for him

His family reassures him that they’ll support him whether or not he continues with his path in life, but he’s considering art school and then taking internships in places so he has a better idea on what he wants

Most likely to sell his own original work and become a full-time artist regardless

I think you already know how you meet him-- he’s sleeping in a lecture hall-- either against the wall or on the small piece of wood they call a desk when class ends and he’s still sleeping; and you wake him up

Sleepily thanks you and continues to sleep through every class that you wake him up to; when you ask him why he doesn’t just go home and sleep, he tells you he’s too lazy to walk back and forth from his dorm/apartment to campus (mood)

When you add each other on Snapchat or something, he sends you pics of ‘places to nap’ on campus

You always end up studying together because he’s actually pretty good at understanding lecture stuff despite not being awake for most of it-- apparently he’s used to teaching himself

Will make you art for your birthday and will vehemently refuse payment so he just tells you to take him out for dinner instead

If you talk about how you’re not sure on what you want to do in life too, he’ll probably say ‘mood’ but is most likely to encourage you to do whatever you want to do in life too

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me shall we date?#ngl i would date beel in this au 100%

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ningningxx · 4 years

Text

blueming - choi beomgyu

summary: pre relationship au! m/n is a tired college student that falls in love so easily. beomgyu is the cute barista that he falls for.

word count: 3k

now playing: blueming – iu & i’m so pretty - nature

notes: first in a series

m/n stumbles into his least favorite coffee shop exhausted, with a migraine, clutching an ice pack, and a gloomy disposition, wondering why everyone is so happy. it's not his fault, honestly it's not.

it's minju's.

she dragged him out last night to go shopping, which ended in disaster. he tripped over jewelry laying on the floor, got pushed into a wall and got slapped in the face, hard. not only that, but he got awoken by freaking justin bieber of all things and the starbucks across the street from his study hall is closed, and now he has to run all the way across to the other side of campus just to get a cup of freaking coffee.

wait, he also got knocked out after being hit by a trombone at orchestra practice.

he's internally yelling at minju in his mind before deciding to actually let her know how he feels via a strongly worded text message (she'll probably be fuming that he woke her from her sleep but he's too angry to care) just as he reached the front counter. still pounding away at his phone, he grunts out his order, dropping the exact amount of money for his venti-frappucino-with-three-espresso-shots. yeah, he's definitely not having the best morning.

"sorry, could you repeat that?"

m/n looks up, ready to glare viciously and direct his bad mood at the barista who obviously pays no attention... but instead gapes at him because the barista is actually really cute and damn maybe he's already got a crush. and, oh shit, he's the guy who minju tutors sometimes on weekends.

the barista (beomgyu, m/n remembers) stands there with an uncomfortable smile, awkwardly standing there behind the counter. (m/n would be lying if he said that wasn't one of the cutest things he's ever seen.) "your order?"

m/n gapes a little more before regaining his composure, a polite smile gracing his features. "yeah - right, sorry. um, a venti frappuccino with three espresso shots." he pushes the coins forward, waiting awkwardly.

beomgyu smiles again, this time an actual smile gracing his features (m/n will never admit that he swooned a little), appearing amused if anything. "right," he quickly scooped the change up before yelling behind him. "yein! large frap, three shots!" he registers m/n's change and hands m/n his drink. "thanks for coming to golden swirls! have a great day, m/n-ssi."

m/n blushes because beomgyu actually knows his name and he may or may not be screaming inside because of it. someone behind him coughs, interrupting his inner emotions and m/n is so glad that he's not in high school because he so has a schoolgirl crush.

"thanks- i'll be going-" m/n runs out of the door before he could embarrass himself further, almost dropping his coffee as he goes and accidentally knocking his laptop bag that's swung over his shoulder into the wall outside. he looks at beomgyu through the large window, watching how he serves the next customer before quickly heading off towards his next class.

not even ten seconds later, he's managed to almost break his laptop, spill his coffee over a random stranger and he just wants the ground to swallow him up. his patience has run thin and he finds himself swearing because of how awful this one morning has gone. fuck today, fuck his life, just fuck

most of the time, m/n's lucky to have minju in his life. they share an apartment together with minju running a home business as a pastry chef, she helps him with all of his assignments and they've known each other forever. but today, he really hopes that he has awoken her from her sleep (he doesn't want anything horrible to happen to her, he loves her too much) because it's her fault that he's injured. (maybe not completely her fault, not that he'll ever admit it.)

after getting back to the apartment and telling her of his god-forsaken awful day, she has the audacity to laugh.

she laughs so hard that she ends up falling off the couch, her makeup smudging which he's sure she'll be upset about. he doesn't really appreciate that she's laughing and he thinks that maybe he should take photos or a video because she laughs like a horse on crack. he chooses the third option which is attempting to make her spontaneously combust with the power of his glare.

"what the actual fuck." if anything, she laughs even harder and starts rolling around on the floor. he grabs a nearby throw pillow and launches it at her.

(she retaliates, flipping the couch over and them sitting on his back, she tries suffocating him with a surprisingly lethal fluffy cushion.)

after she stops attempting to strangle him and they put their living room back to the original state, they return to their previous conversation. but he immediately wishes that she's still attempting to murder him, because she is smirking. (he's so going to be antagonized for another week)

"so what basically happened, is that you publicly humiliated yourself in front of a cute guy and now you've turned into a weeping willow." she almost bursts out laughing again after her summary, instead pinching his cheek.

m/n immediately recoils, covering his face with another throw cushion. "yes, thank you for reminding me of the possibly most embarassing period of my life."

"you could've been worse. you could've spilled coffee on him, you could've fallen flat on your face as soon as you walked through the door." she laughed while he blushes even harder than he thought possible. (leave it to minju to bring up previous events.)

"i hate you," he manages to squeak out from underneath the pillow, curling in on himself.

"i love you too," she pats his head affectionately. "now i'll order some chinese food and we'll spend the whole night watching cheesy rom-coms while i try to cheer you up with some horrible puns and jokes."

(m/n cracks a smile because he honestly couldn't ask for a better best friend.)

after finally managing to finish his music assignment and edit another three essays as well as helping minju with baking cupcakes, m/n skypes kangmin. kangmin (the same person who chose to go in china instead of staying in seoul, the traitor) has been the third member of their group ever since the beginning of elementary as well as the exact reason for m/n's sexuality crisis. (which may or may not have included a temporary relationship and a lot of making out.)

it's not like m/n can hold it against him, but of course he still wonders why all of his friends have to be so damn good looking and adorable.

kangmin, unsurprisingly, doesn't answer the phone the first time but the second time yejin had picked up the call. yejin was the last member of their group and was the most creative and independent of the bunch. she was the first person that m/n had met that he loved within the first five minutes of meeting. of course, sometimes she was over-dramatic and hyperactive but it didn't really matter, she was still one of his best friends.

"hey m/n!" yejin smiled, flashing her pearly whites. "kangmin is currently busy working on that huge programming or digital project that he got a week ago."

yejin faces the camera towards kangmin, showing him with his head in buried in his hands. there were papers strewn all over the desk while his computer was closed. she subtly takes a picture of his distress before tapping him on the shoulder. kangmin's head snaps, a grimace present until his eyes lands on m/n's face appearing.

"m/n!" kangmin yelled, snatching his phone off yejin. ignoring her rude remark, he positions the phone in a way that both yejin and himself appear on the screen while still being close enough to hear. "sorry, i love you but this stupid piece of code is giving the biggest trouble ever and i just can't take it anymore."

he groans dramatically in his hands while yejin rolls her eyes at him, patting his head fondly.

"you'll be fine." she coos at him, rubbing his hair affectionately. "what's up m/n?"

"i may or may not have met someone..." m/n trails off, laughing at their reactions. yejin starts clapping excitedly and squealing while kangmin's head snaps up with a bright smile on his face.

"who is it? it's not that creepy guy in orchestra is it? if it is, you could do so much better.." yejin rants, not stopping even when kangmin covers her mouth with his hand.

"and i may or may not have also embarassed myself in front of him." yejin shuts up straight away, both her and kangmin starting to giggle.

"how bad was it?" kangmin inquires, a cheeky glint in his eye. "falling-flat-on-your-face-bad or peeing-your-pants-because-you're-so-nervous-bad?"

"neither,"

stares.

"maybe worse,"

more stares.

"it was clown-at-kangmin’s-eighth-birthday-bad."

long story short, kangmin’s parents had hired the wrong person and accidentally hired a drug dealer who tried to convince the kids that the cocaine he brought was sherbet.

kangmin’s parents were mortified at the time but kangmin continues to tell the story whenever he gets the chance.

m/n eventually ends the call because yejin and kangmin are laughing so hard at him and, god, why does everything with him have to be so complicated and embarassing? (he may also have rejected the next two calls, accidentally)

minju, being the absolutely amazing best friend that she is, is so much more helpful than his other two friends. meaning that since she's already laughed at him, she's moved on to the point where she decides that she's going to be a helpful friend.

(m/n shudders at the thought. last time minju decided she was going to be a 'helpful friend', he ended up in the hospital for two weeks and failed two assignments.)

unfortunately, minju turns out to be his only option to call when he sees beomgyu again at the shop.

"please, please, please, come here right now. starbucks is closed, beomgyu's on shift and i need someone here to make sure i don't embarass myself."

turns out, this is the one time that minju isn't available.

"you should've asked me before. i'm too busy. i've got to juggle six different pastry orders and they all have to be done in a couple of hours because i'm catering for a wedding."

well, fuck. m/n looks inside the coffee shop again, noticing that this time beomgyu is looking back at him. beomgyu smiles and waves, while he leans against a broom. m/n can't help but smile back, pocketing his phone and walking through the door.

as soon as he's in the door, he sees the broom that beomgyu is leaning on slips and makes him fall over. he rushes over to beomgyu quickly, helping him back up. beomgyu blushes a bright red while m/n helps him back over to the counter despite being told numerous times that he's fine.

"seriously m/n-ssi, i'm fine." beomgyu giggles. he fucking giggles and suddenly there's a hand on his arm and somehow all the oxygen has left his lungs and why is it so suddenly hot?

"are you sure?" m/n asks again, checking for any injuries. beomgyu nods again, walking awkwardly back behind the counter.

"venti frap, three shots right?" beomgyu's eyes shine, a small blush coating his cheeks. m/n nods, handing over his coins.

beomgyu scoops them up but accidentally drops a few on the ground. after all the coins are picked up, yein suddenly appears by his side with a coffee in her hand.

"smooth move, casanova," she nudges him playfully, before handing the coffee to m/n. beomgyu blushes brightly, moving over to start cleaning the counter.

"thanks, i guess." m/n says awkwardly. "i'll see you later, yeah?"

he runs out the door, waving to them as he goes. he's a few metres away from the coffee shop before he does a happy dance because he didn't embarass himself in front of beomgyu.

(this doesn't erase his bad luck however. he manages to keep his coffee intact, but someone else spilled their coffee on him, he got attacked by a rabid cat and chased by a group of dogs on the way home.)

the next time m/n sees beomgyu, it's in the comfort of his own home.

but that doesn't mean, he's ready to face his crush.

m/n's woken up by minju's banshee scream, her high pitched tone filling his entire room. he wishes his first instinct was to cover his own ears but no, his first instinct is to get up and make sure the bathroom door is closed. (every time minju screams, the large mirror in their bathroom 'mysteriously' breaks. and the money that pays for it 'mysteriously' comes out of his own wallet.)

he walks into the living room and he knows he looks like a mess.

his hair is strewn everywhere, making him look like he just got zapped with lightning. he's wearing a plain white shirt but he's only one inside while the other half is wrapped around his shoulder, exposing his lower body. he's also wearing his rainbow briefs while he's got kittens on his socks.

m/n's barely got his other arm in the shirt before he hears a cough behind, where he's met with beomgyu's blushing face.

beomgyu looks like he's trying so hard to look away, he's got his face hidden behind one of his books but his eyes are visible at the top, (it certainly has nothing to do with the way his nose starts to bleed a little) while minju doesn't look much better herself.

she hadn't bothered to brush away her bangs and instead was trying to pour herself a cup of coffee, a large yawn escaping her lips.

"we, meaning me, wants you to make us breakfast," minju speaks like she doesn't know that she just embarrassed m/n in front of his crush. (to her credit, she probably doesn't. she occasionally leaves their apartment half naked because of her tired stupor.)

"uh, r-right." m/n stutters, running back to his room, locking gazes with beomgyu before his door swings shut.

minju eyes him weirdly as he goes. (usually he'd yell at her to stop being lazy and do it herself but he seemed to be too stunned to do anything. she'd have to bring beomgyu around more often.)

"is he okay, minju?" beomgyu puts the book down.

"he'll be fine," minju yawns again, wrinkling her nose. "i've already accomplished my duty as a best friend by bringing you here." she ignored beomgyu's questioning gaze, bringing her mug to her lips.

m/n walks out of his room, looking more presentable but also looking like he was going to cut a bitch. (in every case, minju.)

"give me that," m/n swiped minju's mug from her hands, taking a deep gulp of her bitter coffee. he ignored minju's scathing remark and turned to beomgyu, unstartled. "will pancakes be okay, beomgyu-ssi?" his voice took a much softer tone than when he spoke to minju.

"yes please, and i'd rather you'd just call me beomgyu, m/n-ssi." beomgyu smiled.

"then i would insist that you'd do the same, beomgyu-ah." m/n smiled, shooing minju out of his kitchen and getting the ingredients out.

minju huffs and takes a seat next to beomgyu, crossing her arms.

"are you ready to carry on, beomgyu-ah?" minju asks, wiping her face with a wet wipe.

"gimme a sec," beomgyu rests his head on his arms as he watches m/n move around in the kitchen.

m/n's got his headphones in his ears as he hums delightfully, flipping pancakes with ease. he dances his way around the kitchen, pulling out syrup and strawberries and eating utensils, preparing breakfast with a soft smile on his face.

beomgyu can't help but watch the other male with a dumb smile on his face, not looking away even when there's a steaming hot plate of pancakes in front of him.

"i hope you like them," m/n smiles, taking out his left headphone. he fucking smiles at beomgyu, who feels his entire being heat up. (beomgyu tries to ignore the way his heart pitter-patters in his chest. that traitor.)

when beomgyu takes a bite, he moans in delight. m/n pretends to not notice, shoveling his food in his mouth. (his blush totally does not give him away.)

"so m/n-ah," minju starts, taking back her mug and refilling it. "when's your next class?"

"i'm free today. my chemistry professor called in sick so he just emailed everybody their latest assignments. i'm going to die." m/n cringed, taking a sip of his water.

"i bet physics is looking pretty good right now, huh?" minju had a triumphant look on her face.

"people who take physics usually don't have a life, or friends." m/n flicked her forehead, distracting her long enough to steal her coffee again. "no offense, beomgyu-ah."

"none taken, m/n-ah." beomgyu shrugged his shoulders. "what do you study?"

"i'm making my life hard by majoring in dance with a minor in chemistry." m/n put his two thumbs, his entire being oozing with sarcasm. "commuting to two different campuses four times a week, what fun."

"that's like me!" beomgyu's eyes were a little wider. "i'm a vocal major with a minor in physics. moving between the two campuses is such a pain."

"does that mean you know soobin-hyung? i think he's a vocal major as well?" m/n asks.

"bunny-hyung?" beomgyu's eyes glaze over in realization. "he takes care of me, you know, being one year older. does that mean you're friends with yeonjun-hyung? he still owes me twenty dollars."

"soobin-hyung owes me fifty!" m/n almost yells. "but it's okay because he buys me lunch every other day."

"oh my god, they're perfect for each other." beomgyu rolls his eyes, stabbing his pancake with his fork.

"they're disgusting. i hate seeing them meet up, like they haven't seen each in a million years when in reality it's been like four hours." m/n agrees, wrinkling his nose.

minju looks between the two males, wondering how they could be so oblivious towards one another.

"they're idiots. idiots who hopelessly crush on each other." minju complained under her breath. she held up her phone, pretending to use it as a mirror, only to snap a pic of m/n and beomgyu interacting with each other, bright smiles on both of their faces.

m/n briefly looked at her, a weird look on his face.

"you'll thank me later." she smiled innocently, tapping her phone with a wink.

#beomgyu #choi beomgyu #txt male reader #kpop male reader #txt x male reader #kpop x male reader #fluff #beomgyu x male reader #choi beomgyu x male reader #male reader scenario #txt #male reader insert

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mckinlily · 4 years

Text

Voltron Foster Care AU

That time when you get so mad about Voltron’s failed found family trope that you build an AU based entirely around the idea of the Paladins finding each other and fighting to be a family.

It starts with Anthony and Honerva Zarkon.

Anthony Zarkon--from here on out simply Zarkon--is the mayor of a major city in Arizona with political aspirations and a horde of inherited wealth.

Honvera is a surgeon with an intense interest the limitations of the human body. She has ideas for enhancement and human modification that’s she’s desperate to try out.

Problem is that Honvera’s experiments are such that no sane human being (and here “sane” means “legally able to consent”) would agree to them.

Honvera isn’t about to let something little like ethics to stop her. She starts thinking about how to get around this pesky “do no harm” rule and realizes that children present an interesting opportunity.

Now typically children run into the same problem as anyone else--absolutely no parent is going to consent to this, so that’s mostly a no go. But if the children are legally Honvera’s... Then things get interesting.

Of course, Honvera would never touch a hair on her precious baby Lotor’s head (and he’ll be reaching eighteen soon anyway). But there are other options.

And this is when Honvera hits on foster care.

It’s an ingenious idea that accomplishes two things.

First, it looks good for Zarkon’s political career, taking in these poor, underprivileged kids and giving them a home.

And second, it gives Honvera free rein as their legal guardian to completely circumvent consent and experiment as she pleases.

Enter Takashi Shirogane, a nine-year-old with a chronic muscular disease that might be able to be treated with physical therapy and the right drugs or might be indicative of something much worse. The state hasn’t had the resources to figure it out yet.

In swoops Honvera with her MD and impressive credentials, claiming that Takashi’s condition is almost certainly terminal but she has access to experimental treatments that could save his life. And the Zarkons are a good family with strong standing in the community it--it seems like the perfect match.

Honvera certainly thinks so. Takashi’s pre-existing condition gives her license to throw around any treatment or diagnosis with no questions asked.

In fact, Honvera thinks it works so well, that the Zarkons take in four more foster children.

Shiro tries to fight against any more children being placed with the Zarkons, but he’s nine and he’s not able to articulate “misdiagnosis” and “excessive invasive operations”. All he knows how to say is that procedures scare him, and his social worker tells him “it’s for your own good, honey. Dr. Honvera is helping you.”

By the time Keith, Hunk, Lance, and Pidge (aged 5-6) arrive, Shiro knows two things:

1) The social workers aren’t going to believe him.

2) If anyone is going to actually raise these kids, it’s not going to be the Zarkons.

Naturally, Shiro decides these kids are his responsibility.

For the next five years, they survive by working together and coming up with increasingly creative ways of fighting back/rebelling.

They each have a role in the “surviving the fosters” act:

Keith and Pidge both become very sneaky and very good at getting into things they shouldn’t.

Hunk keeps track food, first aid, and other essentials, making sure they have stashes the Zarkons won’t find.

Lance is a distraction extraordinaire.

And Shiro keeps track of all of them, organizes their escapes and raids on the kitchen, helps with the homework (because good grades are essential to Zarkon’s image), and does everything he can give them a glimpse at a normal childhood.

The kids know that any problem that they have from “I broke a frame and Zarkon’s going to kill me” to bullies at school, they can bring it to Shiro and he’ll fix it.

Shiro doesn't actually know how to fix any of it. Mostly he just takes the fall for it and doesn’t let them see when it hurts him.

Honvera experiments on all of them, but Shiro is still her favorite. He’s in and out of surgery a lot.

During recovery, the roles flip, and the others are the ones taking care of Shiro

Honvera is fascinated by surprisingly positive effects of this amateur caregiving.

(She is also fascinated by how the best way to guarantee compliance from the others is to threaten to hurt Shiro. And how Shiro is the same but more so with regard to the others.)

Honvera’s experiments escalate throughout the years they’re with the Zarkons, cumulating in removing Shiro’s right arm just before he turns 15 and replacing it with a prosthetic of her own design.

To Honvera’s credit, it is an incredible feat of engineering. To very much not Honvera’s credit, Shiro did not require a prosthetic until she sawed his right arm off.

Still, it’s not until Shiro suspects that Lotor has creepy intentions for Lance that he realizes his found-siblings aren’t safe in the Zarkon house anymore and he can’t protect them there.

Once again, Shiro goes to his social worker, but this time he refuses to back down until they take him seriously.

The Zarkons’ have too much social standing to face legal action, but Shiro and his now-siblings get out and the Zarkons are banned from fostering more children.

This is good, but no family is prepared for five foster kids, especially four pre-teens and one teenager, all at least a bit damaged and deeply suspicious of authority. Shiro is the first to be separated, but eventually they all end up in different homes.

It takes a year for them to find each other again, by which time they’ve all experienced their own little traumas on their own.

Shiro had actually hoped in a different home, his siblings would be looked after better than he could.

(Even if he misses being around them more than he can hardly stand).

But when Shiro finds them again--or more accurately, they find him--he’s forced to realize that, No. No one is taking care of his siblings at all.

And once again, Shiro decides if not a single freaking actual adult is going to do their job and raise his siblings, he’ll do it HIMSELF.

For two years, they keep in touch over messaging apps, library computers, and their own specifically developed code, and Shiro darts around the state rescuing them from the ridiculous to scary situations they find themselves in.

Meanwhile, Shiro is doing everything he can to establish himself as a stable, responsible party to the establishment. As soon as he turns eighteen, he starts fighting for his siblings and he doesn’t stop until he has custody of every single one of them.

So we come to the ‘now’ of the story:

Shiro and his siblings move out of state as soon as they can. They have had enough of the state of Arizona screwing them over, thank you very much.

Shiro is starting college partly because he actually wants to attend and prove he can do it. And mostly because he knows if he doesn’t, none of his sibling will be they can either and that’s unacceptable.

But, despite finally having his family all together like they’ve wanted ever since they got separated, things aren’t all rosy

They’re all traumatized, both from their time in the Zarkon household and just from growing up in the system. This manifests in a myriad of ways. From Keith starting fights and Lance’s risky behavior to Hunk’s anxiety attacks and Pidge’s massive issues with authority.

Shiro in particular is convinced that if he is ever seen as less than “perfect”, the state will take them all away again.

None of this is helped by Shiro’s definite and seemingly worsening PTSD.

In short, they’re a mess and constantly teetering on the edge of disaster.

But Shiro’s determined to keep them together. They’re family. They didn’t survive this long to fail now. Just because the rest of the world has given up on them, doesn’t mean Shiro will.

Shiro will do whatever it takes to make sure they make it.

Whatever.

It.

Takes.

#shiro #keith #lance #hunk #pidge #voltron #vld #vld headcanons #foster care au #tw child abuse #i have so many headcanons about this universe you have no idea #mckinlily writes: vld fic

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greenninjagal-blog · 4 years

Note

currently vibing in a two-week lockdown, can you share some of your favorite fics? i need some new things to read, and I've got too much time on my hands-

Aw man, same! The rest of my actual Spring Semester got turned online… Let’s see…..Fic recs for the pseudo End of the World (Courtesy of AO3, arranged by most prominent ship!) Keep in mind that my descriptions are shorter and written mostly for comedic effect than the actual fics, so if something looks interesting Click it! Get more info about it! Don’t just take my word! I tried my best to get a lot of variety of fics and topics and tropes, as well as authors that might not be as well known! Uhhh here are the links to lists I’ve already made for various other reasons check out my Fic Rec Masterlist!

I also am including various of my fav authors masterlists for funsies!

jungle321jungle’s || Max-isTired’s || TrashficParlour’s || Lefaystrent’s || Mine!

Completed Fics

A Deal in which Virgil tries to summon a familiar and gets a Circle King instead. And he’s really pretty. (Anxceit)

Love Like You in which Virgil decides to give up looking for a romantic partner and considers adopting instead. He finds more than he’s looking for with a set of twins and the man who watches over them (Anxceit)

A Dragon’s Tail in which Logan is cursed to be a Dragon by his best friends stepmother, Virgil is struggling to learn a power he can’t control, Patton who’d rather marry a servant than the Prince, and Roman has no clue what is going on but the Prince he’s supposed to be saving can probably kick his ass. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

A Game of Vice in which Remus kidnaps Roman and turns it into a game of who can come save him from his lonely tower. (Logicality, Prinxeity)

double down with the paradigms in which Logan tries to explain away his own OCD while dealing with the emotions he has for a certain Pre-Vet. Excellent depiction of OCD, made me cry, 300/10 would read again. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

It Takes Two to Tango in which Roman begs his brother, Logan, to let him go back in time to meet a famous dancer. Falling in Love was not part of the plan. (Prinxiety, Logicality)

A favorite star in the heavens in which everyone has at least one soulmate. They’re luckily enough to have three each. (LAMP)

Forgotten Forests and Magnified Myths in which Logan finds out very suddenly that he has the passive ability to talk to dragons. (DAMP, Remilie)

Sense5 in which five people in different countries are suddenly psychically linked together and uh…yeah fun times. (DLAMP)

Stray Hearts Are Subject To Change in which black cat hybrid Virgil plans to die very heroically in an alley and Roman completely messes up that plan by being a decent human being. (Prinxiety, Logicality)

Hidden In Shadows in which Virgil is the boogieman every adult warned you about but he doesn’t actually enjoy being scary. Good thing the three Sanders kids aren’t scared of anything. (Not so good for their very confused Dad who isn’t sure what to do about their new imaginary friend)

Paved with Good Intentions in which the dark sides agree to send Virgil to the light sides as a way to get Thomas to listen to them more. Now if Virgil can just get along with the Light sides enough to actually start making some progress…

Absent Gods and Silent Tyranny or: How Logan Learned to Stop Over Thinking and Love Everyone in which Logan is a morally grey scientist who just works for supervillains because they pay well. He doesn’t expect someone like Virgil to change that.

Series

Clouds and Moss AU in which the sides are gods and its very gay and very good. (Intrulogical, Roceit)

Colors in which Logan is an excellent Dad, Virgil is an amazing son, and the world is very colorful. (Logicality)

Labeled in which Logan is a famous superhero, Patton is a doctor, and they adopt the would-be super villain and everything is soft and lovely and I cry at the purity. (Logicality, Remilie)

Fbi!au in which the sides work for the fbi and I diligently reread these series of oneshots for a daily dose of serotonin! (Logince, Moxiety)

Growing Old is More Fun with You in which Patton is a PTA dad and so is Deceit and they have a “rivalry”. (Mociet)

Gilded Cage in which Roman is forced to dance for the fairy queen whenever she wants it. (Prinxiety)

Renegades! in which the sides live in a dystopia and fight the government while being completely in love with each other. (Prinxiety, Logiciality)

Love and Other Fairytales in which a couple decides to keep their changling and their actual son, a child is cursed gifted a voice that makes people do whatever he says, a boy makes a rotten deal for the sake of his friend, and centuries before any of this, a fae prince is tricked into an endless sleep by his brother.

The Vampire Hunting Vampire in which Virgil was turned into a monster and LPR slowly convince him he’s not as bad as he thinks he is. Through cuddles. (LAMP, DLAMP)

Wasteland, Baby! in which there are things in the woods and Patton gets,,, intimate with them. On purpose! (LAMP)

Destined in which Damian has successfully ignored his Soulmates for five years and he planned on doing it for much longer but on his twentieth birthday fate intervenes with a second soultrait that forces him to come face to face with all of them. (DLAMP)

Old Gods in which Gods sometimes walk the earth and Remus is pleased to hear that people are still making offerings to him– wait that is not a goat. And other fun stories!

Sit back and watch the world go by in which Virgil is a human abducted by alien smugglers, befriends Patton, breaks out, and everyone fears humans as space orcs, almost as much as Virgil is afraid of them.

Teaming the Pieces Together in which Thomas is a pokemon trainer and eevees just…click with him.

Tales from the Dark Sides in which the author provides a lovely hub of works where Virgil is abused by OC dark sides and DLMPR are there to help patch him up.

Uncle Emile and the Super Nephews in which Emile gets custody of his six nephews and tries to bond with them. They in turn try very hard not to tell him they have superpowers.

Cuffed Universe in which Remus is a cop chasing after a hacker, Logan breaks the laws and Virgil would just like tO KEEP ONE JOB WITHOUT ONE OR BOTH OF THE OTHERS DRAGGING HIM INTO THEIR SHIT. (Analomus)

Ongoing Fics

The Origin in which space travel via Thomas Sanders’s ship SS Revelation gets more complicated when the Planets themselves turn out to be entities who aren’t all on board with humanity spreading to the rest of the solar system. (Remile)

Delicato in which Logan and Patton are music professors with very different conceptions of music, and Virgil and Roman are students in both their classes who just want them to kiss already. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

Coming out of The Shadows in which a small mutant child Virgil is treated as subhuman because of his uncontrolled ability to manipulate shadows up until a scientist buys him. (Royality)

Falling Stars At My Command in which Roman wishes on a star and Patton reaps the benefits while Logan unfortunately gets dragged along for the ride. (Royality)

Sugar in which Patton has three sons and no free time to bother with a relationship while he’s trying to manage bills. At least until Roman walks into his life. Sugar Daddy anyone? (Royality)

A Man, a Snake, and a Rat in which Logan, Deceit, and Remus become college roomates (Intruloceit)

a.s.h.es, ashes (We all fall down) in which after Logan almost dies during one of his recuse missions, him and his partner start to dig into the superhero agency they’re employed by and stumble into something far bigger than they expected. (Logicality, Prinxiety, LAMP? LAMP)

Keep him safe in which Detective Logan falls for the owner of his new favorite bakery while his partner Roman falls for the gang member they’re chasing. Ft: emotions, a pet rat, dealing with delusions 101, trauma, and family so gooey it literally makes me melt whenever it updates. I love this fic so much. (Advertises as Logicality and Prinxiety but theres so much LAMP I can’t not put it down here)

Multitudes in which Virgil works at a coffeeshop, pines over the customers that come in, and wonders why they all tip him so well. (LAMP)

Songbird in which the only thing keeping Virgil’s parents alive is his voice: the moment the (new) King gets tired of listening to him its off with all their heads. And Virgil’s okay with that, he is…. Until three visiting nobles leaving him wishing for his freedom for the first time since he was ten. (LAMP)

Shatter in which Logan gets fed up with not being listened to, and takes some poor advice from Rage, which ends with the entire Mindscape being turned upside down and inside out. Now its up to Deceit fix it all. (aka the author decided it was about high time Deceit got some love and appreciation and I’m out here living for it.) (DAMP)

Incredible Cosmic Power in which Virgil awakens some genies by accident and they refuse to let him go back to living a relatively normal peaceful life. (DLAMP)

Plea for my New Self in which Vampire Virgil decides he wants to start over again, and goes back to college to work on coding. There he proceeds to do reckless good with his absurd amount of wealth and a “fuck it” attitude. Actually one of my favorite things ever okay. I love this one so much. (DLAMP)

Your Wish Is My Command in which Thomas accidentally rubs six lamps and becomes the glorified babysitter to six jinn who definitely don’t trust him. But its fineeee. (DLAMP)

6 Dads in which Deceit, Emile, Remus, Roman, Thomas, and Remy make a relationship work and their children aren’t sure how but go along with it anyway.

Rebel Rebel in which Thomas, a well respected man, visits the Imagination, for some pleasure business as a one time thing. Except that he keeps coming back. Maybe maybe falls in love with one, two, thr– all of the men who work there.

A New Kind of Experiment in which Virgil runs away from home, and ends up kidnapped by merman, and somehow he doesn’t mind that much.

Becoming His Own Hero in which everyone has to juggle their superhero lives with their regular lives and sometimes…its just hard.

don’t wanna be a tragedy in which brothers Roman and Remus get a house and subsequently find out its totally, completely, 100% haunted.

Don’t You, Forget About Me in which the author recreates Breakfast club and does it spectacularly.

Heart’s Heroes in which Patton may be a villain but that does not mean he wants to see the child heroes of the city dead.

Mortals and Fae in which Deceit barely escapes the wrath of his town when they all turn against him. Dying, he stumbles into a fairy circle hoping that with his name the fae make his death short and sweet. Big Shock for him when he wakes up with a Fairy Prince swearing to protect him.

Sanders Family in which Thomas adopts six kids and has no regrets about it.

How Not to Go About an Important Inspection in which after a devastating betrayal the crew of the USS Bifrost is docked for repairs and the crew just wants to go back to being a normal family but Command is insisting on an inspection to ensure nothing so…drastic occurs again.

Symbiotic in which certain Vampires have a vemon that leaves with victims craving getting their blood drunken. Deceit, one of these Victims, continues to burn bridges because that’s easier than admitting he might need help dealing with this.

#greengabs #fic recs #Lockdown 2020 list #god this took me like eight hours to put together #I hope this helps

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keatsblue · 4 years

Text

Want a Piece of Me?! - a Kiribaku Baking AU fic, pre-slash.

***

It was something he’d picked up from his mother, before she’d gotten too sick.

She’d let him roll out flour-dusted dough into thinned sheets, let him taste a batter mix or two on the tip of her spoon. Whenever he was tasked with packing the buttercream, he’d unerringly return to her with a dollop of icing on the end of his nose. She’d let out a laugh like windchimes as she wiped his face off with a multi-stained washcloth, would murmur, warm against the skin of his cheek as she kissed it—did my little dragon get greedy for some sugar again? Well, here’s some sugar!

Kirishima was her little dragon, and she’d made sure his early life was filled with candied nights and warm bellies, gingerbread castles with marshmallow spires.

After she passed, he kept it up to feel close to her.

He was far from an expert baker, but he knew his way around an oven. His hands were large and not the most suited to handling delicate fondant, but he managed. His arms were strong, good for hefting bags of fresh ingredients.

Pineapple upside-down. Triple-tiered, Italian wedding crème. Chocolate lavender truffles, topping his signature cherry cordial mousse. Delicate macaroons and finicky meringues, mirror glazes so seamless he could see his reflection. Kirishima baked his way through the entire grieving process, inviting his closest friends over for tastings, and he won.

I’m okay, mom.

He wasn’t certain when it had really started, this online business. Mina had actually made the first post, snapped the first photo. He hadn’t expected it to get a single comment.

It got hundreds. Then thousands.

People contacted him, wanting to know how they could make their own cakes look like that.

Kirishima obliged, of course. How could he not? He was going to bake anyway. Might as well help a few other amateur chefs while he was at it!

Mina helped him film. “I discovered you, so I’m your manager for life,” she’d say, with a wink. “Don’t forget about me when you make it big and become a world-famous baker, somewhere.”

World-famous, my ass, he always thought, whenever she’d suggest such a thing. He still made far too many mistakes, for that.

It was okay, most of the time. Many of the people who followed his little baking ‘show’ were more than understanding, and incredibly supportive. When he read their kind comments, it gave him a warm, fluttery kind of feeling—almost like one of his mother’s secure hugs.

There were always those few, though.

He was just getting off the rickety bus that stopped near his neighborhood when he saw it. He almost missed the last step on his way down, stumbling for a few paces as the telltale sound of a screen door sliding shut behind him signaled the bus’s departure.

However, Kirishima wasn’t paying attention to any of that. Instead, his eyes were glued to the screen of his phone, where he’d just called up his latest baking stream.

xxxx: ur cakes suck a**

He frowned down at the comment, checking the timestamp. So, it was just posted a few minutes ago.

Huh.

It was obviously a troll, no doubt about it. They didn’t even have a profile picture to go with the nondescript name. And usually, usually, Kirishima would just let comments like that slide right off his shoulders.

But he’d had a bad day. And it was funny, how something so small could pierce his heart sometimes, a sharp spear to the mighty dragon’s soft underbelly.

It was safe to say, making his way up the rusted-out stairwell to his college-budget apartment took a little more energy than usual. He jammed his key into the lock with punishing force, twisted.

The door swung upon under his palms, and the familiar scent of his home wafted toward him, riding along the sudden gust of warm air escaping. Kirishima was careful to shut the door quickly, before too much of the heat was let out. Breathed in the fruit-sweet smell from his kitchen, so if nothing else, the familiarity of it could ease his scattered mind.

His phone chimed, before he could get too relaxed. When he checked the message ID, though, he couldn’t help but smile.

alienqueen: ughhhhh I hate this asshole already

alienqueen: obviously, he’s never tasted 1 of kiri’s cakes

ducktapes: kiri’s cakes <3 ahhhh my heart

sparksmcgee: dude same, want me 2 get sweet vengeance?

As soon as Kirishima’s smile had appeared, it vanished. He frantically opened the chat, his thumbs too large to type with the speed he needed.

There was no way to tell if Denki was serious. And his friend could do it, too—every day, Kirishima thanked his lucky stars he was on the excitable hacker’s good side.

kiricakes: no need!! it’s just a troll, guys

kiricakes: super manly of you to think of me, though

sparksmcgee: ur too nice, fams

sparkmcgee: guess the troll lives… for now

ducktapes: TROLL IN THE DUNGEON! THERE’S A-

alienqueen: aksnfkasnof

kiricakes: lolllllll

Before long, he was able to lose himself in mindless chatter. The antics of his friends never failed to bring his spirits up. He plugged his phone into one of the few outlets in his crummy apartment, embedded into the wall just over the kitchen counter, so he could continue the conversation even as his battery started to wane.

The hours grew long, though, and time was scarce mid-week for exhausted, assignment-laden college kids. It wasn’t a surprise when Denki soon begged off on some coding or another that he had to re-run, or when Sero and Mina similarly slipped away (they were researching something together for Comparative Physiology, it was all very much over Kirishima’s head). In the end, he was left with only his thoughts, and an empty kitchen.

He locked his phone, and the screen went dark. He could see his reflection in it, baggy eyes and downturned lips. A shock of red hair, which had once been midnight-black.

Like his mother’s.

Kirishima turned his head. In the low light, his appliances gleamed from their shelves. Almost mocking, in a way.

“My cakes don’t suck,” he said, to no one. His grin stretched wide, and he could tell from the burn of it that he was showing far too many of his sharpened teeth. “I’ll prove it to you.”

He set his phone to record, and made another cake. It was triple-tiered, funfetti, because that was the batter mix he had on-hand. He watched the batter rise within his dented iron pans with all the patience of a general considering the battlements—or perhaps, a dragon considering its’ hoard.

Any spare buttercream was packed into a dispensary, silken and primed to hold his creation together. He spliced it evenly between his cakes with a practiced ease, layer after layer.

Then, the whipped frosting. It was a simple recipe, one of the first he’d learned. He worked the whipping cream within a chilled bowl, adding scoop upon scoop of powdered sugar until the mixture obediently began to rise, forming soft peaks.

He made several batches, and then added some orange food coloring to each.

Fuck it. I’m in an orange sort of mood.

His second favorite color, after red.

All that remained was assembly.

… throughout the process, he talked.

Kirishima didn’t typically make a habit of speaking while he baked. He certainly didn’t speak while he recorded, but this—this was a special occasion. Soon, he found himself opening up in front of the camera like never before. He spoke of his mother, briefly. Of his love of baking, and how much he didn’t want to lose that little piece of her he had left.

It was all he had left.

The whipped frosting went on like a dream for him, a smooth and even ombre that when he finished, reminded Kirishima just a bit of an orange sunset. It was soothing, and right, and exactly what he needed.

He didn’t think much of posting the video, largely unedited, to his public account. His was still a small corner of the internet, after all—a solitary baking channel in a sea of thousands. Maybe even millions. How many people would even see it, really?

“Oh, and by the way, can you guys stop saying my cakes look like shit?”

It was only one cake.

With great effort, Kirishima stumbled his way to his bedroom. He hadn’t realized how tired he was, how much all that time in the kitchen had taken out of him.

Before his head even hit the pillow, he was out.

He dreamed of his mother’s sweets, and orange.

***

sparksmcgee: dude wake up

sparksmcgee: wake uppppp

sparksmcgee: KIRI

sparksmcgee: KIRI U GOTTA SEE THIS

sparksmcgee: KIRIIIII

sparksmcgee: fine, ignore me, Mr. Internet Sensation

sparksmcgee: wait I was joking, I was joking!

sparksmcgee: I’ll call u! I’ll do it!!

sparksmcgee: damn it kiri

sparksmcgee: just watch the fuckin’ video

sparksmcgee: https://twitter.com/Simplemachines_/status/1297739774795509761

***

Kirishima groaned, slamming a fist down on top of the source of that incessant beeping. It was too early in the morning for such ear-splitting noise.

But what was done couldn’t be undone. He was awake now, for better or worse.

He cracked one eye open, squinting against the bright blue light of his phone screen. Still bleary-eyed, he scrolled through all of Denki’s messages (seriously, man?) and pressed a thumb over the hyperlink his friend sent. It was probably just some dumb meme—

Wait. Wait.

That was his cake video from last night. And… that wasn’t all.

Some blond guy with an angry face took up the other half of the split screen, but he wasn’t doing anything. He seemed to be waiting for something.

Kirishima blinked. A… reaction video…?

He heard himself begin to speak, to layer the buttercream. Internally, he cringed.

Well. In his defense, he had been having one of those days—

He almost dropped his phone when the blond guy yelled at the top of his lungs.

“WHO WAS MEAN TO YOU?!”

Huh? Was this guy speaking… in Kirishima’s defense?

“WHO SAID YOUR CAKES LOOK LIKE SHIT?! POINT ‘EM OUT!”

Slathering on his nice, ombre whipped frosting, now. The blond guy (who was kinda cute, actually, even with his angry face) continued to watch and listen with rapt attention, occasionally letting out another unholy screech.

The video progressed to the part where Kirishima had begun describing his day, and really, he could’ve kicked himself. It’d just been a math test. He’d been excited at the time, because he’d gotten his grade back and hadn’t completely failed it, but now, he wondered. Who would want to listen to such inane, boring—

“YES! I’M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU, SHITTY HAIR!”

Shitty hair? Inadvertently, he felt the hand that wasn’t currently occupied supporting his phone drift up toward his hairline. He knew he applied a lot of gel, spiked it up on purpose. Surely it didn’t look that bad.

But even with that last comment, the guy had said a lot of nice things. And how manly, to post such a wholesome reaction video, where all the world could see?

His phone beeped again as a message banner flashed across the top of the screen. He opened it with a flick of his finger.

It seemed this time, Denki had messaged in the group chat. He didn’t have long to wonder whether his other friends had seen the video, either, messages were fired at rapid speed.

sparksmcgee: did you see it?!?? I found the guy! Your dream man!

sparksmcgee: his name is **drumroll**

kiricakes: denki, no

ducktapes: denki, YES

sparksmcgee: BAKUGOU KATSUKI, HE’S FROM JAPAN

alienqueen: Kiri go get your mans!!

sparksmcgee: if you want I can also get his credit card

kiricakes: DENKI NO

Bakugou Katsuki. Huh.

As his friends continued to bicker amongst themselves, Kirishima stretched out his limbs. He let out a soft sigh when his shoulders popped, already considering what he would bake himself for breakfast.

Maybe he’d have a slice of orange funfetti. And perhaps as he did, his mind would drift to an angry fan.

One he hoped to meet, someday.

#bnha #mha #kiribaku #baking au #bnha fanfiction #oneshot

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charmandhex · 4 years

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Master Post Part 3

So tumblr is a massive nuisance and apparently limits the number of links you can put in a post! So this is probably going to get a little recursive; this post will just deal with

Tumblr Writing and The Bonds Between Us

So most of the ficlets I put up on tumblr do not have names, which is gonna make this more challenging, so we’ll see how it goes. The Bonds Between Us is an ao3 fic containing a number of canon compliant ficlets centered around the relationships between characters.

The aforementioned Blupjeans spinoff of Pas de Deux. You think enemies to lovers Taakitz is fun; wait until you see enemies to lovers but still very much enemies right now Blupjeans.

Snow Day. Taako-centric Taakitz fluff with bonus adopted son Ango centered around... a snow day. It should be part of The Bonds Between Us, but apparently is not. I should remedy that.

A Day Off. Blupjeans post canon, just coming off a long day of Reaper shenanigans. It’s pretty fluffy and is in The Bonds Between Us.

What is Left Unsaid. Magnulia, definitely on the angsty side, but I at least think it ends on a happy note. Basically covers first meeting and beyond. Also in The Bonds Between Us; this is going to be a recurring theme.

Sculpture of Flame. SC era Blupjeans pre-Legato. Barry (POV) and Lup go after the Light and shit goes sideways, as it is wont to do. Basically prompted by me thinking Spell Sculpting is the best thing since Fireball. Ditto on The Bonds Between Us; I need an acronym at this point.

Questions and Answers. Ango-centric post canon fun! Basically, people are nosy and ask Angus all the questions, and Taako is basically adopting Angus now. Yes, TBBU.

Fox in the Henhouse. Hurloane! Surprise! Pre-pttm, based around a post (which I linked in a reblog; I don’t want to tag people and subject them to this laundry list.) Basically, Sloane shows up to Hurley’s office. I’m mean and this ends on a fairly angsty, yell-inducing note. TBBU.

The Little Things. Lup-centric fluff, post-canon, centered around her getting her body back. Yes, TBBU.

Takeout in the Astral Plane. Taako POV, about how much Taako loves Kravitz and Taako and Kravitz’s vacation to the Astral Plane. TBBU ficlet.

Scones and Song. Kravitz POV, about how much Kravitz loves Taako. Arguably the counterpart to Takeout in the Astral Plane. TBBU ficlet; are you even surprised at this point?

Cooking Quiche Lorraine. Ren time! Yay Ren! Featuring Ren at Taako’s show and a little bit of her venturing out afterward. There are some Paloma shenanigans, and fuck I forgot how much I love Paloma with a warhammer. TBBU ficlet.

Untitled Lucretia ficlet. Second person POV, centered around the moment she fed her journals to Fisher. It’s more experimental as far as my ficlets go and definitely not TBBU for that reason.

Late Night Research. More Blupjeans pining! Lup POV this time, and Lup finds Barry up sciencing in the middle of the night. TBBU ficlet.

Untitled Taakitz ficlet. This one was inspired from some art by herbgerblin (again, no tagging here, but the art is tagged in the ficlet). Kravitz gets called in the middle of the night, and Taako is groggy but supportive. This one should probably be a TBBU chapter too but isn’t.

Untitled twins ficlet. Going way, WAY back to when the twins were applying into the IPRE mission. Not TBBU, probably will be eventually when I remember to update it again.

Dogs on the Moon. Magnus rushes in! Magnus goes up to talk to Lucretia about a certain infamous policy. Yes, TBBU.

Untitled Lup and Umbra Staff ficlet. Just about how Lup might have come up with the concept for the Umbra Staff. Not a TBBU ficlet.

Pocket pudding fluid mechanics ficlet. Yeah, you read that right. I’m gonna teach you fuckers fluid mechanics whether you like it or not. Taako-centric, majorly sciencey, mildly angsty.

Untitled canon divergent AU part one. Taako inadvertently breaks Lup out of the Umbra Staff early!

Untitled canon divergent AU part two. Lup possesses her brother to start a family reunion! I’m tempted to continue this if there’s interest.

SURPRISE! It’s my one and only Graduation ficlet. Centered around the Firbolg, and it’s nostalgic but sad. Firbolgs live long lives and Druids... Druid.

Redundant master post link.

#charm works #charm master post

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homesteak · 5 years

Text

pepsicola

sfw johndave fic my friend gave me for christmas!

mid 1900s catholic school au

word count: 3306

John’s room was on the top floor, and he had no family with him to help carry his luggage. His single suitcase was heavy, and the buckles were threatening to pop open. He dragged up the narrow, stuffy stairwell until he came to the last door.

He heaved it open and trudged down the hallway, his suitcase banging against the backs of his legs. His room was at the very end of the hallway on the right. The door was ajar, and some kind of rock music was playing from the room. John couldn’t put his finger on it. It was honest and sexy, something he knew someone’s parents would disapprove of.

The left side of the room had already been claimed. A suitcase was open in the floor, half of its contents strewn about the room. A David Bowie poster had been tacked crookedly to the wall. A raggedy pair of red Chucks that were definitely not up to the uniform standard sat at the foot of the bed.

A wispy pillar of smoke puffed from the bed. John’s alleged roommate was draped across it. His socked feet were crossed at the ankles. A cigarette dangled from his fingers. Most of it had burned away instead of being inhaled.

John scrambled into the room. He dropped his suitcase, yanked the door shut behind him, and hurried over to throw the window open. “Isn’t that against the rules?”

His roommate leisurely rose to a sitting position and flicked the ashes from his cigarette. “I can’t believe you blew your first impression in such a short amount of time.”

John blinked at his candor. Part of him was relieved--they could both skip the awkward politeness now and get it all out in the open. But upon getting a full view of his roommate, John knew it was going to be much more complicated than that.

His untucked shirt and slacks tailored his slim, fit frame just about perfectly. His hair was smooth and blond, with a few rebellious strands falling against his forehead. His lips were round and pink enough to make John jealous of the cigarette. A pair of sunglasses hid his eyes, but not the smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks.

He leaned over and turned the volume down on his record. John couldn’t see his eyes, but he got the crawling feeling his roommate was looking him up and down. He was already prickling, but now heat was blooming across his face.

“I’m Dave.” He put out his cigarette on his bed frame.

“I’m--I’m John,” John stammered. He quickly turned away and tried to busy himself with his luggage. He lugged it over and heaved it onto his naked mattress.

“Are you sure?” Dave asked. “I think you might be lying.”

“No.” John tried to focus on finding a drawer for his socks instead of the way Dave’s voice sounded or how his face was burning up. “I’m pretty sure my name is John.”

He heard Dave flop back down onto his bed. “You sure you aren’t, maybe, Steve or someone? You kinda look like a Steve.”

John peeked over his shoulder. “I do?” From this angle, he could see that Dave’s eyes were closed. He tried not to linger on them.

“Yeah.” He hummed to his music for a bit.

John turned back to his belongings just as Dave started to turn over onto his side.

“Say, what grade are you in? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

John examined his wardrobe on the opposite side of his room. “I’m a, uh, senior. This is my first year here.” He started hanging his clothes, painfully aware that Dave was eyeing him.

“What’s your problem, man?”

He figured he better not look at Dave. “Nothing’s my problem.”

He listened to Dave take the record off and flip through his collection for another. “You worried about having a delinquent roommate? Think I might run you off?” He could hear the smirk in his voice. It was an edge, a slight chuckle. If it had fingers it would have been tickling up John’s spine.

John wracked his brain for a way to get the upper hand in this conversation. He made the strategic decision not to pay Dave a glance as he spoke, but it was mostly just to hide the red in his cheeks. “You’ve got a reputation here, don’t you?”

He shifted around on his bed. “Guilty.”

John straightened his posture and folded a shirt neatly against his chest. From the corner of his eye, he peered at the various garments lying around Dave’s side of the floor. “I don’t care, man. Just as long as whatever you’re doing doesn’t get me in trouble.”

“Okay, I think I can respect that.”

John unpacked his bed sheets and turned back around to dress his mattress. Dave was lying with his feet propped up against the wall and his head hanging off the edge of his bed. His half cigarette was between his lips, but it wasn’t lit. He wasn’t saying anything, but John knew his eyes were following him.

John decided he was going to allow himself one evening of homosexual thoughts, and then he was never going to look at Dave in that way again.

“Dinner starts in a few minutes,” Dave announced. He rolled out of his bed and took his record off. He grabbed his tie from his chair and tucked it lazily under his collar, letting the ends just hang loose. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times and then turned to John, who quickly attempted to pretend he hadn’t been watching his every move. “Why don’t you come with me, Steve?”

---

Dave didn’t say much outside of pointing out certain buildings and good places to smoke on the way to the cafeteria. John kept looking at him and trying to piece together what kind of reputation exactly he could have. Everything in John’s good nature told him to keep away from this boy, but his defiant aloofness made him want to chisel as deep as he could go.

He followed Dave through the line and sat across from him at a far table next to a window. The evening sunlight made the outline of his hair glow white. He watched John cut apart his chicken delicately and methodically. Dave picked at his green beans one by one.

“So why are you here for just your senior year?”

John could tell he wasn’t the type for small talk, so he must have been genuinely interested. “I got a scholarship. I thought this school would look good on college applications.”

Dave stopped chewing and swallowed. “A scholarship?”

“What?” John couldn’t tell if he was impressed or alarmed.

He went back to stabbing at his food. “You know what kinds of kids are here, right? Not ones who get scholarships.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Oho, man.” Dave laughed and shook his head. “You’re too cute, John.”

John stuttered for a moment, that annoyingly familiar heat rising back to his cheeks. “What?”

Dave chewed his food, which was clearly more important to him than this conversation. “This isn’t where good, hard-working boys from middle-class families who wear clean specs and ironed shirts and get scholarships go.” He pointed at John with his fork. “This is the kind of school where filthy rich parents dump their snot-nosed sons for nine months out of the year because they have better things to do than raise them.”

John’s chest felt tight. He was fully aware of all he was saying. He just figured if he kept his head down, they wouldn’t be able to sniff him out. But Dave had barely known him for an hour. “Oh.”

“Hey, don’t you worry.” He picked a few green beans from John’s plate. “You’re lucky you got me as a roommate.”

“I thought you had a reputation?”

“That’s right.” Dave bit the beans from his fork, never breaking eye contact with him. He smirked and licked his lips. “‘Cause I’m at the top of the food chain.”

---

For the next few days, Dave did as he said he would and took John under his wing. He was right. Out of all the filthy rich kids, he was the filthiest. The underclassman dove out of his way when he walked around the campus. If he held out a cigarette, someone would light it for him.

John couldn’t figure out why Dave let him hang around. He couldn’t figure out why he actually asked him about himself and listened when he talked about the movies he liked. He couldn't figure out how he still knew so little about him.

Monday morning, John arrived early to his first-period pre-calculus class. He tried to look busy with his books as more students trickled into the classroom. It was a plain, uncomfortable kind of room. The desk rows were too tight together, and the walls were bare of any diagrams or posters. The blinds were drawn, and the room was bathed in harsh electric light.

Once the teacher entered, the atmosphere seemed to get sucked out of the room. She was tall and rail-thin, with a rigid posture and an expression that seemed even more strict and unmoving. She unloaded a thick math book and started writing her name on the chalkboard in her tight, jagged handwriting: Ms. Richter.

About a second before the tardy bell rang, none other than Dave glided into the classroom. If he noticed the razor-sharp glare Ms. Richter shot him, he wasn’t fazed by it. He spotted John and squeezed into the open seat beside him. He had no books, no paper, just a stubby pencil and his sunglasses.

Richter quieted the class with just a pointed look. She cleared her throat and gave her speech about how she had no tolerance for tomfoolery, and a vague--but still effective, John thought--about what would happen if anyone were to disrespect her policy. She had her eyes fixed on Dave the entire time, but his expression remained neutral and undaunted.

“Mr. Strider,” she said, stinging enough that John saw Dave’s fingers tighten around the edge of his desk. All the boys looked in his direction.

“If you think I’m like any of your previous instructors and will allow any of your notorious nonsense, you are sorely mistaken.”

She marched down the row so swiftly she fluttered the papers on students’ desks. In a flash, she swiped her talons and snatched the sunglasses off of his face.

John felt his throat squeeze. In a swirl of fabric, she marched back up to her desk and stuffed the glasses in her bag.

“Sunglasses are a violation of the dress code, Mr. Strider.”

John dared a look at Dave. He sat completely still, his hands clamped around the edges of his desk. His eyes were shut, and breaths came hard and slow in and out of his nose.

The class was achingly silent for the rest of the period. As soon as the bell rang, Dave disappeared. He was no longer at the top of the food chain.

---

John didn’t see Dave for the rest of the day. He thought about going back to their room between classes to check on him, but he figured it probably wasn’t his place. He didn’t want to be seen and wanted to stay that way.

After classes, he reluctantly decided to head back to their room. When he got to his floor, he could hear music blaring from down the hallway. The door was cracked, and he carefully pushed it open. The air was smoky. Dave had lit four cigarettes and just let them burn.

John closed the door behind him and went to open the window. Dave was hanging upside down from his bed, his eyes still shut. He wanted to say something, but he decided he’d wait and let Dave speak first.

John slipped out of his shoes and settled on his bed with the book he’d been assigned for his literature class. Dave reached over blindly and turned the music down.

John was several pages in when he finally spoke.

“I’m going to get my shades back.”

John froze, his thumb resting on the corner of his page. He placed his glasses back on his nose. Dave hadn’t moved from his position. He still wasn’t showing the other boy his eyes, but his flat expression had shifted slightly. His thumb drummed eagerly against his chest.

“What?”

He chewed on his lip. “Tonight at six. We’re going to break into her office.”

“We?”

“Yeah?”

John swallowed as he tried to process what was happening. “Can I ask why?”

“A heist is better with company.” Dave climbed off his bed and went to choose another record. He kept his eyes away from John. “Don’t question it, Egbert, just be flattered I asked.”

“No, I meant--” He knew he was stepping into risky territory. “Why do you have to steal them back?”

He could almost see the wall coming up in front of Dave. It was a real one, too, not just a pretty translucent one he kept up for mystery. “I’m not sure what kind of answer you’re looking for.”

As much as he wanted to press, John decided that for some reason he didn’t want to ruin whatever little thing they had going here even more. “I’m not looking for one at all. I was just making sure you knew why.”

Dave snickered. “Okay. Are you gonna come with me or not?”

John frowned. He flicked at the corner of his book and bit the inside of his cheek. “I can’t tonight, Dave. The practice room is only open at six, and I’ve got to go.”

He shrugged. “Heist at seven, then.”

---

John hadn’t been expecting Dave to accompany him to practice, so naturally, he was completely unprepared. He kept himself always just out of his plain field of vision somehow, and stayed in his peripherals.

He followed John into the music room and flipped on the lights behind them. John felt his eyes on him as he pushed the bench up to the piano and tested a few chords. He sat down and waited for Dave to say something, but he stayed quiet.

John ran through a few pieces, maybe concentrating too hard on not missing notes instead of actually playing them. Why did he feel he needed to impress Dave? Maybe because he’d chosen him to join him on his heist. Maybe it was because he’d taken the time to watch him practice. Maybe it was because he wanted to be the reason for moving that indifferent expression of his. Maybe because he wanted to see him smile outside of his daydreams.

He attempted a more ambitious piece he’d been working on. He stumbled through the chords and disentangled his way through the notes. He stopped about halfway through before he made a complete fool of himself.

“Why’d you stop?” Dave asked, causing John to jump.

“It--It needs a lot of work.” Warmth seeped back into his cheeks.

“So keep working.”

Dave had pushed three chairs together and was lying across them like a cat in a windowsill. John smiled.

“Why’d you come with me?”

“Why��d you let me?”

John couldn’t tell him why. He couldn’t even tell himself why. He couldn’t tell him he thought about crawling into his bed with him at night. He couldn’t tell him he looked at the freckles on his back when he came back from the showers. He couldn’t tell him he was hooked on the impossible mystery Dave Strider was.

“I think you’re swell, I guess.”

Dave laughed. “Don’t tell me you write poetry, too.”

He got up and squeezed himself next to John on the bench. John reflexively pinned his elbows to his sides. Dave’s thigh pressed against his. “Teach me a song.”

If John wasn’t already on fire, he was now. Sweat beaded at the back of his neck. He tried not to shake as he lifted his hands back to the piano. “Do you know where C is?”

“Do I look like I know where C is?”

John reached over and hit C down low and instructed him to copy him at the middle. He slowly demonstrated the melody for “Heart and Soul”. Dave clumsily mimicked him.

As he kept repeating the notes to get a feel for the melody, he said, “Thanks for not prying about my shades.”

John tentatively began on the chords. “Why are you thanking me?”

“You seem like the kind of guy who always likes to ask if you’re okay.” He hit the wrong key and frowned. “Like the kind of guy who cares. I’m glad you figured out not to do that shit to me.”

No matter how badly John wanted his hand to accidentally bump into Dave’s, he avoided it. “You don’t want me to care?”

He finally looked at him, full in the face. His eyebrows were scrunched, and his eyelids sat low. His eyelashes were light and curly, nearly close enough to dust against the other boy’s nose. John couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, and he kind of liked it.

“I think I do want you to care. I just don’t want you to talk about it.”

Dave turned back to the piano and started practicing the melody again. John matched the chords with his choppy rhythm the best he could.

“Dave, I don’t think we should steal your sunglasses back.”

He didn’t stop playing. He must have expected John to say that. “Why not?”

“I--I think that’s what Richter is expecting. I think she’s trying to get something out of you so you can be punished.”

Dave was quiet for a long moment. John took it he realized what he was saying was right. “Hey, John?”

John’s heartbeat lurched as the side of Dave’s hand bumped ungracefully into his. “Yeah?”

“How about I take you out to see a movie tonight?”

---

Dave took their excursion as an opportunity to teach John where he could go to sneak in after curfew. He jimmied open the fire exit and pushed John inside. They clambered up the stairs and slipped into their room. Dave was smiling.

He put on a record and flopped down on his bed. He said nothing, only bobbed his head a little and grinned at John.

He turned to his dresser so he could maybe stifle that stubborn heat. He changed out of his uniform and into his pajamas. “You know, I almost forgot, Dave.”

“Forgot what?”

John picked up his pants and turned out one of the pockets. “I grabbed these at the gas station while you were filling your car up.” He fastened the top button on his pajama shirt and presented Dave with a pair of aviator sunglasses.

Dave got up and approached John. He took the shades from his open palm and examined them, his expression still as usual.

“I--I know it’s silly, but--”

“John.” He put on the sunglasses. The price tag was still hanging off of them. He barely had any time to admire how they looked on him. “Just this once, stop being cute.”

“What?”

Dave grabbed the front of his pajamas and kissed John on the mouth. He felt him lift onto the balls of his feet to reach him. He couldn’t move. He could only stare as his glasses bumped into Dave’s.

He pulled away, still gripping John’s collar. It looked like his lips were trying their damnedest not to pull into a grin. “I warned you.”

“Dave, I--” John’s lips still buzzed with Dave. His nose was nearly touching his. He could taste the Pepsicola and popcorn. He swallowed. “I won’t talk about it.”

He wrapped Dave in his arms and kissed that stubborn grin.

#homestuck #johndave #hs #john egbert #dave strider #homestuck fic #fanfic #johndave fic #pepsicola #hammertime #obviously i had permission to post this

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james-bucky-barnackle · 6 years

Text

Two Night Stand (Part 6)

Synopsis: (AU) You found yourself at a club drinking away to forget about the stress of your shitty job as the assistant of the biggest Editor in New York, you end up hooking up with the man of your dreams only to wake up to a nightmare when you find out he’s the son of your boss.

PART 5 | 2NS Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4,075

A/N: I still have trouble with my wifi so I’m posting this part early!!!

Monday, the first level of hell. And I’m not an idiot to be late, despite getting home at 12 AM. I woke up at six and put effort into applying concealer on my Walmart eyebags. I wore a white loose halter top which I’ve tucked in my beige high waisted skirt and put a gray blazer on top. I twirled my hair into a bun, securing it with a pen which I’ll pull off when I get to the building. As much as I’d love to look nice on the streets, these curls are not gonna take the pollution. I fill Pogo’s bowl and rub his belly, leaving a chew toy next to him, Bruce will be here later to pick him up. I grab my bag and I walk out of the apartment. Wanda’s already left for work, she teaches at one of the private pre-schools, and I can’t trace one single wrinkle on her face. I guess working with kids is easier than working for Winnie. I start walking and go into my boss’ most favored cafés—my order already out front. I make my way to the counter and give the barista a wink, handing him a few dollar bills. The woman in line frowns at me, sorry honey but until you’re not Winnie, you’ll have to wait in line. I’m in an awfully good mood today, considering that it’s another day at the office, but there’s no use in being a fuzzball, I’m not in the building yet. I pull one of the cups from the tray and take a sip, mmm coffee is like my heroin. I used to get a regular latte but ever since I’ve started working for the View, I invested a little more coin into it and started ordering Winnie’s too. It’s amazing, I have no idea what they put in this, but it’s an investment I’m willing to continue cashing myself to. I put it immediately back just before I bump into a cyclist, I hear an audible apology and I immediately forgive him, just as long as no one ruins my clothes, you are all forgiven.

I’m half an hour early when I arrive at the building, which is neat. I get to warm up, because yes working for the view is sort of like training for a sport, with very fast economic risks, the risk of me not getting to pay my rent this month if I don’t get myself right. When the lift arrives at my floor, half of the employees are already there, per usual. I walk to my desk and put my things down. Okay, where’s Maria’s cubicle? I need that article before Winnie arrives. I walk gingerly amongst the sea of busy people procrastinating anything they can get their hands on. What are these people doing all day? I get to her table and it’s empty. Even when I’m thirty minutes early, this desk isn’t supposed to be empty. I pull my phone out and text her where she is.

[Home] I wiggle my eyebrows, what? I have no time for this, I hit call on her number.

“What do you mean you’re home? Are you sick?”

“Home, as in I’m at home.” She replies deadpan, as if it’s normal to be at this time of day. “I’m not sick.” What the hell is going on?

“Then why aren’t you here? Where’s the article Winnie asked you to write?” I’m itching, I’m starting to get very annoyed, I try lowering my voice when people start to glance my way.

“I haven’t written it,” holy. Shit. WHAT? A dramatic pause ensues before a loud cry breaks through my phone. “HE BROKE UP WITH ME Y/N. He. Broke. Up. With. Me.” What’s this have to do with me? “And he told me I wasn’t like anybody else, but he hasn’t been calling me in a week, so I went to his apartment then- aaaah!!!” I hear her sneeze on the other end of the line. That’s her excuse? I could get hit by a truck and I’d for sure still show up at the front desk.

“Okay,” I say like I’m trying to ease a five-year-old child. “can’t you write anything? Anything! Is there anything old on your computer I could give to Winnie?”

“And he had the audacity to tell me it wasn’t me! It was him!” Okay, she is not hearing me out. I start panicking myself, and I drop the call. What the hell am I gonna do? Maria’s gonna get me fired. I doubt Winnie’s gonna let me slide on this one. The weather guy could mess up and give her the wrong information on TV and she’d still find a way to put the blame on me. I dash to my desk almost tripping and hitting the hot coffee sitting graciously on top of it. Not today, mister.

I open a new document and then google on the side. I have no idea what to do, but I’m for sure not letting Winnie come into the office with an empty desk. I’m going to write this article and putting Maria’s name on it, even if it’s the shittiest article ever written. She’s already risked her job not coming in today, could I really make things worse? Milan fashion week, Milan – fashion – week, Milan… Nothing is coming to my head. How am I supposed to know how describe anything? I attended the event sure, but mostly I was just trying to keep my snarky remarks to myself, sitting behind Winnie on the front row of the runway. I can’t think of anything, apart from my feeling queasy when I saw Thor walking the runway looking all fresh and snazzy. I made him, I gave him that career. Focus! I start googling for photos taken by the View’s photographers and I type furiously. I’ve got twenty more minutes; I haven’t written anything in so long. Isn’t this supposed to come naturally? Like riding a bike? It doesn’t go away? All my brain contents are Winnie’s schedule and coffee orders, come on! I spent big bucks on college, work for me, brain! While I’m questioning my own competence, my phone notifies me of a text, “Good morning, doll.” As much as I’d love to respond and giggle to myself, I need to focus. I flip it face down, and face the monitor. How does Maria even talk in her articles? I haven’t read anything she’s written, screw it!

Everyone who’s asking me anything about other things unrelated to my boss and this article has been shooed away and given the hand, by my hunched over self. At this rate, the computer should be releasing smoke.

Most people don’t even have the least bit knowledge on the things they wear, others know more about the brand more than they know themselves. Fashion has turned worlds reeling into first glances, wear the wrong shade of pink and you’re out. |

I continue typing Maria’s article not even knowing which direction it’s heading. Oh god, is this even an article? It sounds, so—stupid, that’s the word. Best case scenario, Winnie reads this and thinks it’s a draft and Maria will be here tomorrow to rewrite an entirely new one; worst case scenario, she burns this paper and Maria will be unemployed, which I never thought I’d not mind until she’s made me incredibly haggard looking like Quasimodo in front of my computer instead of the Esmeralda I longed to be when I came out of the apartment.

Milan’s fashion week gives us a peek of not just the trends you think will be rocked by the young and wealthy of this generation, but of how pattern, shape and form is a huge mark of character when wanting your presence known in the world. Your clothes are your brand, it’s their job to make them look and your voice to make them listen.

Okay cheeseball, we’re printing you. I click the icon and it’s started inking the paper. I want to puke at how cheesy that last paragraph is, but come to think of it, the entire article was destined to be a failure the moment I’ve started writing it. It’s obvious that an ignorant on cashmere wrote it. I hear the printer stop buzzing and I pull it out the tray, raising it up and twirling in my office chair. I did it, or should I say, Maria did it. We did it! And I’ve got three more minutes to go. I pull the pen off my hair, and salvage what’s left of my curls. This looks… decent. I pat my forehead with a napkin, that article was a workout.

The floor grows silent, and there’s only one explanation for that. I stand up, reach for her cup and stand by the door. It’s the perfect temperature, bordering on still hot and are you sure this is still hot? Just the way she likes it. I see her, walking on the aisle and everyone looking and walking elsewhere, not wanting to be in the same lane as her, you don’t want to be in the same lane as her. She’s got her shades and her fur white coat on, and those gorgeous red heels. Her gray hair miraculously curled, framing her face, and even with all that beauty, you know beyond those dark lenses that she’s an evil woman. You can’t have everything, I guess. She gets to the door and I open for her, show time.

“Good morning, I have Maria’s article here and your coffee.” I run behind her and she opens her palm, I gently place the cup. She pauses and bring her shades down her nose to look at the Louis Vuitton handbag sitting where it’s always been, clean and perfectly, seemingly untouched. I see her grin, yes Winnie, no one’s going to jail today. “You have a meeting in 2 hours, and then Clint asked if you could check the creative department this afternoon to review the clothes for the editorial.” I place the paper on her desk, she removes her shades and looks at it. She glances at me from her chair, and my eyes grow wide.

“Right, yes I’m leaving.” I run to the doors and flop on my chair spinning it in a direction where she’s on my peripheral vision. I pretend to type something, please don’t fire me. Please don’t fire me. Please don’t fire me. I repeat it in my head like a mantra.

“What are you typing?” I jump in my chair, it’s Sam. “AHwufuef hswuqodb udnidnl---”

“What are you doing here?”

“Is that a new language? The new Morse code?” I bite my cheek, and spin my chair in his direction. I need this chair in my house. I raise my eyebrow and cross my arms. “Nothing, I work here too you know? Why shouldn’t I be on this floor?” he says as a matter of fact. I shrug and spin back to the angle I was gazing at Winnie on.

“Is that a letter from the president?” he says pointing through the glass partition.

“What? No.” I wrinkle my nose.

“That’s odd, she’s still reading.” Holy shit what does that mean? Is that good or bad? Every time any of the writers would submit an article I don’t give enough care to look at Winnie reading, but I’m pretty sure she reads them, I mean that’s her job. And my mornings consist of putting things on her desk and leaving, I don’t know what she does in there.

“Your point is?”

“I’ve been here for more than a year, she doesn’t read articles that long. She reads the first paragraph and the last sentence, then puts it down.” Holy crap, I might’ve just written the worst article known to mankind and she can’t take her eyes off it in disgust. She’s probably getting sore eyes from reading my words. Think positive, maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe she likes it? I move my head forward and stare at her, her eyes squinting on the paper. It’s disgust. Holy shit, sorry Maria, you’ve killed your career the moment you didn’t go to work, that was me trying to salvage whatever brownie points you had.

“D’you write it?” Sam’s voice scares me off again. I shake my head violently. “If you say so.” He crouches down and whispers in my ear before laughing and spinning my chair in the direction of my computer. I’ve been pretending to type on the same document I’ve written the article in. I blow air into my cheeks, great James Bond-ing Y/N. I exit the document and open my phone, oh shoot, Bucky! I text him back “Good morning to you too.”

A few seconds later, my phone buzzes, he sent me a photo of him in his office with his eyes closed and his tongue out, with the caption “meeting later, I’m sleepy.”

I look up my desk and when no one’s looking I snap a quick selfie of my fingers looking like they’re holding Sam who’s standing far enough just to look like a toy. I think of a funny caption and hit send. “Maybe I can send Sam in to proxy you.”

He replies with another photo of him, his eyes staring into the camera, giving me puppy dog eyes. He looks so cute, I’m literally pouting. His brown hair looking luscious, oh how I’d love to run my hands through his hair. “Can you send yourself instead?”

I flush, I reply with three laugh emojis, not really knowing what to reply. I gotta play hard to get sometimes, what happened to miss workaholic and focused? Bucky Barnes has quite a way with me alright. “I guess I was shipped to the wrong Barnes,” I type in, sneakily taking a photo of me mid shrug with Winnie in the background.

“Ugh! Damn delivery service, always getting my address wrong!” I giggle. Before I could type in another reply, I hear my phone ring. Right, I’ve almost forgotten I’m at work.

“Hi! This is Y/N from the View how may I help you?”

“I’d like to talk to Winifred Barnes,”

“Who’s calling?”

“Sandra Wang,” I gasp, the Sandra Wang? I skim through Winifred’s list of people I am not to connect the phone to… and she’s on it.

“I’m sorry, but she’s currently unavailable. You’re going to have to set an appointment for a formal meeting.” I scramble across my desk in search for my planner, “she’s free on-“

“No need, I’m already in the building.” My jaw drops, what did she just say? Did I hear that right?

“I’m afraid, I’m going to have to-“ she hangs up on me. I dial her number on the telephone, and of course she’s not going to take it. Oh, no. I start biting my nail, flustered. Surprise visits? For Winnie? That’s a very hard no. And it’s Sandra Wang, one of the designers lined up for the fashion ball, her coming here uninvited doesn’t sound like good news to me.

I call Sam real quick, who’s flirting with one of the girls in the office, waving my hands frantically and begging him to hurry up. He arrives at my desk and I tell him what’s happening, or should I say, what’s about to happen. And he’s now biting his nails too. The two of us start pacing around my table, we look like the Hardy boys.

What does she have to say that can’t be over the phone? Is she pulling her collection off the ball? Is she dying? Somehow, in some twisted way, Sandra, dying sounded better that having to look for another designer to replace her slot at the ball. Winnie’s influence is overwhelming. The sole reason why we’re both panicking over what other people might think is ridiculously so little of an issue is because 1) as I’ve mentioned multiple times, uninvited guests are unwelcome, count family off the list. 2) Winnie hates her daily routine rearranged, anything that disrupts the schedule. Anything that happens wrong on a Monday, reflects through Friday, and I’m not about to have a target on my ass. The last time this happened, she fired 14 people in the floor. One of them were fired just because Winnie heard her breathe too loud when they were in a meeting. By golly I was scared, it was just my first month on the job, and that’s when I knew I was in deep.

“Did she say where in the building?” Sam asked, momentarily taking a break from his nail biting.

“No?!”

“I’ll stall Sandra, tell her she’s not in the office, and you block Winnie, ask her to do something else or tell her to pee!” Sam whispers, his hands doing wild gestures.

“Ask her to pee?!”

“You know what I mean!” we both run on opposite directions. He pulls out his phone and calls someone. I enter Winnie’s office not even knowing what to do.

“There you are, submit this for proof reading, I want it printed on this month’s issue.” Winifred tells me the moment I enter then hands me the article I just wrote. Holy cow! I can’t believe this is happening, what?! I bite my lips trying to hide the ginormous smile my lips can’t seem to shy away from. Maria owes me big time.

“You got it!” she whips her head, raising her eyebrows at me. Whoops, too much enthusiasm. “Uh- yes of course…”

“What are you still doing in my office?” Oh right, Sandra Wang! What could I say that’ll make her leave the office? I can’t think of anything, anything that’s plausible. A tarantula got in your desk! Or fire drill! I mentally smack my head, fire drill my ass. I know! I’ll tell her Bucky’s outside, I’m sure he’ll back me up, right? Then I can just tell her he suddenly got called for work. Okay that sounded pretty stupid, but it’s better than the first two things I’ve thought of… I think.

“Uhm, there’s someone in the building—”

“Bucky is the perfect cover for Dolores,” hold up what? I walk a little to the back as two women walk into the office with Sam outside the glass walls giving me an apologetic shrug that spells “y-i-k-e-s”, to which I replied a look that spells “r-e-a-l-l-y-?-!”. I guess 14 people on the building might need to start packing now, or more. The woman who’s just spoken looks like she’s in her mid-forties, black hair pushed back, and snaking straight on her back. She has olive skin and small almond eyes, a sharp black liner on her lash line, I bet it could kill. A red head was behind her, she has legs that can go for days, she has beautiful freckles on her cheeks, and her teeth gapped in the middle. She looked like a cover girl.

“Sandra, nice to see you too.” Winnie replies, but gives me a killer look, I give her one of my signature apologetic smiles. And I’m glad she doesn’t reply with my unemployment.

“The girl in the orange camisole, the mystery girl- I have her right here.” Sandra pulls Dolores from her back. I don’t know if I should leave, but I for sure don’t want to and so I figured to leave when Winnie asks me to. Until then I’m getting front row on this devious plan. The girl in the orange camisole? I’m sorry Sandra, but that’s not her, I would know.

“I didn’t think you for being color blind, Sandra, but I’ve seen the photos. The girl caught snogging my son had ____ hair.” My eyes grow wide, she has seen the photos! I shake my head, of course she has, Y/N. But it’s been two days, and I’m still pouncing in this office. She didn’t recognize me? I don’t know if her not acknowledging anything is a good thing.

“As if you haven’t been involved in rumors, Winnie. We could say she dyed her hair.” Sandra smiles, wickedly. What is going on? Who is this Dolores anyway? And what’s this cover for? “This is buzz! This could give my niece her spotlight back,” spot light? I try to recall where I’ve seen her face, but nothing comes to mind. “and Bucky and Dolores have been linked in the past before, it would be the topic of the century.”

“If I wanted to make a rumor to be the topic of the century, I would’ve asked my assistant to pretend to be the woman in the photo. Don’t you think that would be more scandalous?” I choke, an audible one, which makes the three of them look at me. I laugh, hysterically and when no one joins me, I shut the hell up. I smile, funny Winnie. Funny, funny, Winnie. I start fanning myself with the article I’ve written.

“What have you to lose Winnie? In my side of things, I think it’s a fair trade. A good one too.” She puts her hands on Winnie’s glass table. She hates that, she really hates it when people touch her desk. “All your son needs to do is take Dolores as his date to the ball, they’ll wear my designs… Unless you want me to pull my collection out your ball.”

“You do know it’s more of a loss for you than it is a loss for me, right?” I want to laugh because it’s true. Every designer longs for the exposure on that ball, no matter how old or big your brand is, a slot at the View’s ball is to die for. But still, its half a bluff, since we wouldn’t be able to replace Sandra under a week’s notice. And the press will be all over us, which is something Winnie is not a fan of when things are still being prepared. “But fine, if this is your way of getting your niece a date.” WHAT?

Sandra looks insulted, but she still managed a smirk to spite her colleague. She removes one of her leather gloves and offers it to Winnie to shake. I already know what’s going on my boss’ face, she hates handshakes, if there’s a bill on it she’d be the first to sign it. She waits until Sandra gets impatient, and she doesn’t, so Winnie sighs and shakes it anyway. And right after she does, Sandra flashes her million-dollar smile and leaves the room, but not before looking me up and down. And I can say the same for Dolores, who’s made it a point to look at me during Sandra and Winnie’s conversation the way they both looked at each other. Like we’re their mini-mes and I cringe, but not as much as I’d cringe if I was Sandra’s mini me.

“How desperate.” Winnie scoffed as soon as the two have made their exit. I pull a small bottle of alcohol out of my blazer’s left pocket and spray some on Winnie’s already waiting hand. She gestures on the place where her two unexpected visitors have just stood and I spray that as well.

“Next time you let anyone here without an appointment, you’re fired, Y/L/N. I don’t care if you can write a good article, I don’t want unnecessary people taking up oxygen in my office.” Fear rushes through my body, how did she know? I didn’t even realize she’d given me a compliment.

“But I didn’t- It was Maria—"

“Maria already called in sick today,” that bitch. She didn’t even get me a heads up. I worked my ass off for that paper, and here she is calling in sick? I worked my ass for nothing. Well, maybe not nothing. Did Winnie just say I write good stuff?! My inner goddess is beaming, my lips start to curl up. I can’t wait to tell Wanda.

She then turns to me, waving a finger, “Get back to work, and call Dolce and Gabbana, tell them to cancel James’ fitting. Guess we’re settling with Sandra Wang.” I spoke too soon.

I’m dumbfounded, so many things have happened under one conversation and I haven’t processed a single thing. What the hell just happened? Not a second later, I feel my phone vibrate. Nat just texted me a photo of the dress I’m wearing to the fashion ball. Great, I can’t wait.

PART 7

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oaktoont · 5 years

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Abandoned Rivals AU

The second fan fic I ever started was an AU where Miyuki went to Inashiro instead. It takes place during Miyuki’s third year. After High School, Chris listened to his dad and moved to America to go to college.

I’m officially stealing bits and pieces from it for a totally different Rivals AU, but since I’ve always loved this little bit I figured I could post it here. I don’t think it’s really Ao3 worthy mostly because it’s just a set up with absolutely no follow through. Sorry to torture you here instead. Haha.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Takigawa Chris Yuu, Miyuki Kazuya, Narumiya Mei, Mine Fujio Notes: The NCAA playoff tournament and Koshien are like a month apart, but let’s just pretend they happen at the same time...

“I still don’t get it.”

Mei had been saying the same thing for the past three years and like every time before Miyuki can’t explain it to him. He didn’t even bother trying now. He just squinted in concentration as he attempted to read the article that he had loaded up on Mei’s phone. It was in English and it took everything he had learned in school to make sense of half of it.

Chris Takigawa.

The name needed no translation.

Mei let out an overly dramatic sigh. “Give me my phone back when you’re done. And Kazuya, we just won Koshien. At least be a little bit happy.”

“I am happy,” replied Miyuki in a tone that admittedly didn’t sound all that happy.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Mei left him alone in the locker room even though his phone was blowing up with friends and family congratulating the Ace on his win. Miyuki swiped them all away. Mei could get to them later.

Takigawa was a freshman at Cal State Fullerton now. Miyuki had read that he had made the team as a walk on. Currently he had four hits in four pinch hitter appearances during the NCAA playoff tournament. Which, if Miyuki was reading this article correctly, included the walk off home run he hit today.

For a powerhouse school in America during the American national college playoffs.

Miyuki locked Mei’s phone and leaned his forehead against the cool metal of the lockers.

He just won Koshien.

This should be the best day of his life.

Instead, he felt like he was eleven years old striking out on a slow curve low and inside.

Mei didn’t say anything when Miyuki returned his phone.

He didn’t need to. They’d had this conversation more times than either of them were happy with.

“You were what? Eleven? Twelve? Let it go already.”

Miyuki had rolled his eyes. “Great advice. I hadn’t thought of that.”

There was something...unfinished between him and Takigawa.

High School was where he was supposed to finally settle the score. It was why he had chosen Inashiro in the first place. Except Takigawa, the bastard, hurt his shoulder ending his High School baseball career before it even really got off the ground.

“Good. Maybe with him out of the picture you can finally focus on Nationals.”

Miyuki had grabbed Mei by his shirt and slammed him against the wall.

They hadn’t really talked about it since.

It wasn’t Mei’s fault really. He never had a rival. He had cruised through his High School baseball career unchallenged. He didn’t know what it was like to be utterly crushed by someone again and again and again.

Miyuki had heard all of his teammates not so subtle remarks about his obsession with a washed up has-been. Even Shirakawa, who had played on the same Middle School team as Takigawa, had written him off as just another promising kid who couldn’t hack it in High School baseball.

At powerhouse schools like theirs it happened all the time--kids got cut, kids quit, kids got hurt. The ever demanding cycle of High School baseball never stopped to mourn their loss. There were always other kids eager and hungry to take their place. The team was a machine that would always relentlessly moved on.

Miyuki understood all this...and yet he still couldn’t let it go.

It hadn’t helped matters that during his first year Mine Fujio from Monthly Baseball Kingdom had asked the question, “In your opinion, who’s the best catcher in High School baseball right now?”

And Miyuki had answered without hesitating, “Takigawa Chris Yuu.”

The reporter had looked at him with justifiable confusion. “From Seido. You do know he’s injured, right?”

Miyuki had crossed his arms and shrugged. “And?”

His answer had been seen as a insult to Inashiro and Harada Masatoshi, the team’s current starting catcher.

Miyuki didn’t care.

As team Captain, Miyuki was forced into rounds and rounds of post game interviews.

Thankfully Mei did most of the talking in the TV interviews. Though he pulled this cherub like personality out of his ass for them. Miyuki found it equally amusing and disturbing how easily Mei had fooled the nation into thinking he was a sweet kid.

For his own part, Miyuki tried to find new and exciting ways to use the words: ‘grateful’ and ‘team’. It got old fast. So he smiled a lot. He knew he had a great smile and he knew he could hold it even though this gauntlet of hell.

A stocky figure wearing his trademark newsboy cap approached him and Miyuki shook his hand, dare he say grateful, for Mine Fujio’s familiarity.

Mine smiled at him in his own reserved way. “Congratulations on the win, Miyuki. Do you have time to answer some questions?”

“Sure. I’ve got some time left.”

Miyuki was glad that he was wrapping up these interviews with Mine who had always been both fair and insightful. He even felt a little bad about his bland, stereotypical answers.

After his interview debacle during his first year, Miyuki had been made to answer questions with only pre-approved statements that he had to memorize. There were color coded flashcards and surprise pop quizzes involved. It was stupid.

“I don’t know what my plans are for the future yet.”

That was at least the truth.

“I would like to focus on my studies before I graduate.”

That was bullshit.

Miyuki rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “Right now, I’m just grateful to have helped bring the championship home to Inashiro. I’m so proud of this team and what we have managed to accomplish together.”

Mine nodded as he made notes in his notebook. If he was disappointed with Miyuki’s stock answers he gave no outward indication. “I’m sure we’ll be hearing more from you soon. You have a bright future.”

Miyuki sighed before he could stop himself and the reporter looked up. “You disagree? If you have anything less than ten offers I’d be surprised.”

It was 14, but only Miyuki and Coach Kunitomo knew that.

Mine closed his notebook in favor of studying him. “You’re being called the best catcher of your generation, you know.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Miyuki replied distracted. Coach Kunitomo was finally giving the signal to wrap it up. “I’ve got to get going, but it was nice talking to you.”

He was already walking away when Mine asked, “Who is the best catcher in your generation then?”

Miyuki flashed a smirk as he looked back over his shoulder. He did just win Koshien, so fuck it.

“Takigawa Chris Yuu, of course.”

#oaktoontwrites #oaktoontupdates

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miss-ingno · 2 years

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Hi!!!! How are you???

Can I ask question n 12, n 27 and n 35???

Hey! :D I'm good (and totally procastinating on writing by playing askbox games lmao) How are you, nonnie?

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

Just answered this here, but no worries I HAVE MORE *rubs and cackles*

Weilan Time Travel Fix-It: one of the first fics I started writing, the first scene is still something from before I started reading Guardian fanfic and that influenced my take on Weilan. I'm preserving it as is with only minor edits (fixing typoes and phrasing where necessary). I was still figuring out how to write Weilan, so idk if it holds up? But it's such a precious little artifact in my Guardian journey. Anyway, the fic is about Weilan starting over from post-canon to pre-canon and messing with Zhao Xinci and the old SID. That's it. Like, I'm sure there'll be some fixing of things before they go wrong, but I'm not gonna cover all of it lmao I just. Really want Zhao Yunlan, SID member und Zhao Xinci, having a boyfriend from college who totally is not a Dixingren, thanks Dad.

Imperial Murder Mystery: this one's far off from being written, too, but I have an outline for this casefic. AU in which Kunlun is Emperor and Shen Wei is Empress. Haven't decided yet if Haixing/Dixing still exists or if this is just a random Ancient China AU. Central PoV character is Guo Changcheng, who only barely and very recently passed his Imperial Examination. He's tasked with finding out who murdered some Important Person, and manages to do so fairly quickly. Except the Suspect pleads his innocence, that he's been framed... and GCC doubts himself, so he looks more into it even after the case is closed and finds evidence of framing—by none other than the Empress himself. Kunwei, Chuguo, with Chu Shuzhi being asigned to keep an eye on GCC during the investigation.

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

Also answered in the last one. Other things that really stick with me is whenever someone tells me they've been looking forward to reading a fic/spent all night/woke up the next day to an update and it was worth it :D

Plus every single comment ever gushing about my kid OCs Ruiying and Yujin is very, very dear to my heart <3 (because I love the girls okay and I'm glad my readers gave them a chance, especially knowing that OCs are often meh and I needed to sell everyone on these kids first)

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I love love love how experimental you can get with fanfic?

Like, I'm a slut for Outsider PoV, something that works because we, the writer and the readers, are all in on the joke already thanks to canon. Same goes for canon divergence fics and time travel shenanigans! We have the same source code, and we get to enjoy variants together. And isn't that just the neatest thing?

But also like. Epistolary. Excerpts from fake history books, fake academia wars, fake essays. Like, who of us enjoys writing essays in school? But it's so much more fun making shit up and researching it to make it sound legit when it's about our characters getting into an academic slapfight with some anonymous asshole.

E-Mail chains? Comment sections? Rate My Teacher or similar fake sites? There's as many possibilities as you can dream up, and sometimes they're cracky and sometimes they're deep and sometimes they're both and I absolutely enjoy the shit out of them.

Questions for Fic Writers

(answers to 6, 7, 33; 8, 9, 29; 12, 19, 27)

#ask games #anonymous #thanks for playing!#honestly cannot get enough asks for 12 lmao I still haven't run out

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yehet-me-up · 6 years

Text

The Science of Attraction

Pairing: Hansol/Vernon x Reader (female)

Word Count: 3,669

Genre: Camp Counselor AU, Christmas fic

Rating: (F) - fluff/SFW

Summary: The 3rd Annual Jasper College Winter Camp Christmas Competition is off to a heated start. The middle schoolers you’re in charge of at your college’s winter break camp are a mess of hormones and crushes. But no one is more affected by the season than the counselors.

“You like him, don’t you?” says the sassy thirteen year old next to you for the third time.

Your jaw drops and you pause in your decorating to look at her. Bethany came to camp last year, as a twelve year old, and has only become more forthright and nosy in the year since. You snap your jaw shut and re-focus on stringing lights around the tree in the common room, ignoring her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say in a desperate attempt to stop her loud, incessant questions.

“I think you do, and like, he’s soooo cute. And funny. And sweet. Why wouldn’t you?” she demands and you can feel her intent stare as she untangles more lights for you.

You give in and look across the large space to where to boys group is working on their tree. Although, you think with a laugh, it’s more resembling a trash heap at this point. One of their counselors, Vernon, is sitting on a couch, drinking a hot chocolate and directing his horde of middle schoolers around like basketball coach.

You allow yourself a moment of weakness, three seconds to take in the casual way his hair falls over his forehead. The twist of his lips, the amusement in his eyes, as he lords over the space, his arm slung over the back of the couch. He’s like the big brother every camper wishes they had; all of the boys at camp look up to him with awe.

His head turns, as if drawn by your attention, and you snap back to face the tree so quickly your hair whacks you in the face. A flush rises in your cheeks and you fumble with the lights, desperate to not be caught staring. After a minute you look over at Bethany, who is handing you more lights with a look that so clearly says ‘told you so’ you want to burst out laughing.

“I’ll tell Adam Rockford you like him if you say anything,” you tease and her eyes go wide. She opens her mouth to say something frantically but you cut her off. “How about we keep this between ourselves, hmm?” you offer, holding out your hand in a truce.

She closes her jaw with a hmph and sighs, holding out her hand with resignation and shakes yours. She narrows her eyes with renewed focus at the tree. “Now, let’s get a move on. We’ve got to kick their asses. You know what’s at stake.”

You laugh - she looks like a mini general, your right hand in the battle for the victory. The dorm is relatively quiet for a Saturday afternoon. When school’s in session it’s a crush of bodies coming and going. Students off to late night study sessions, returning from sports practice, holing up in their dorms with movies and friends, or off to parties large and small.

You smirk, thinking about how if this were any other Saturday night you’d be with your best friend, Claire. Either you drag her to the arcade in the basement of Miller Hall with your Astronomy major friends or she drags you to her sorority, forcing you into a dress and making you hang out at yet another get together in some fraternity’s basement.

You’re definitely the odd couple – her the fashion merchandising major with the Louis Vuitton scarves and designer handbags, you the with the beat up Converse sneakers, permanent pen marks on your hands from doodling too much, and endless supply of space pun sweatshirts. Today’s reads Why didn’t the Dog Star laugh at the joke? It was too Sirius.

But you’d bonded over stapling reams of paper in the counseling during your work study placements freshman year and had only grown closer the last two years. She was off in Paris with her family, but she was obsessively teasing you about Vernon, asking how good he was looking this year and making you want to toss your phone into the nearest body of water.

Now that it’s winter break the dorms are almost empty of students. Your school is near a wealthy community, filled with parents wanting to get out of town for the holidays; off to islands and tropical resorts. Desperate for some time away, without kids. So two years ago your school offered free room and board for two weeks over the holidays to anyone who wanted to be a counselor at the ‘camp.’

You agreed of course. Your family isn’t big on holiday celebrations, and the break gave you plenty of time to get a head start on your reading for next quarter, and to use the showers without anyone else around.

The only ones staying in the building aside from the security guard were the fifty or so students, seven counselors, and the faculty member who agreed to oversee this; Angie Callaghan, an English professor who was way more excited about the idea of a competition than any of the counselors or the students.

The first year it was simple – the team with the best floor decorations got to pick what movie everyone watched on Christmas Eve. The second year, things escalated. There was a cookie baking competition and a contest to see which team could wrap the most presents in ten minutes.

This year, Angie’s gone all out. Tree decorating. Caroling. An Elf movie quoting challenge. Her right hand woman, a senior Architecture student named Sydney, has a permanent clipboard tucked under her arm, recording points. It was cute, you thought, how into it the kids got. They threw out taunts left and right to each other, tried to sabotage the other team’s efforts.

And this year you’d heard that the teams had made a side bet under the table. The losing group has to run outside barefoot on New Year’s Eve in only their pajamas. Hence, Bethany’s steely focus as she critiques your light placement. A squad of pre-teen girls swarm around you, laying out ornaments and discussing strategy with an intensity usually reserved for disarming bombs.

A loud laugh comes from the other side of the room and your attention is once again drawn to Vernon. He’s bent over laughing at a boy who’s making a very inappropriate gesture with two ornaments. His eyes crinkle in the corners and you feel out of breath all of a sudden, struck again by how good looking he is, how magnetic his energy is.

When he showed up to the meeting for counselors freshman year with you, you were shocked. Two years ago he was the stereotypical frat guy. Black baseball cap on backwards, looking for everything in the world like he was trying to act as if he was too cool to be there.

But over those first two weeks you saw the crack in his mask. The genuine smile that came to his face when he watched Blake Anderson get up his nerves and talk to his crush. How he stayed up late at night cleaning up the dishes and cups from the common room.

The way he swelled with pride when several of the students asked him what he wanted to major in over breakfast one day. He rambled on about business and majoring in something practical for a minute before he’d stopped short. Realized who he was talking to, realized he didn’t have to pretend to give a crap about ‘practical careers.’

He promptly started talking at the speed of light about his passion for video games and his desire to code the next Halo or Call of Duty. You were at the next table, grinning into your orange juice as the façade of the ‘too cool’ boy melted away to reveal someone who was just as big of a nerd as you were.

The next year was even worse for you and the crush you were so intent on denying. You found him in the common room one night, consoling Bethany while she cried about how her parents had gone on vacation without her. And how she didn’t think they cared about her. He’d taken a deep breath, looked at her with her head in her hands, tears streaming down her cheek, looking like he wanted to cry himself at her distress. He’d turned and seen you in the doorway.

You motioned to her to ask if he needed help and he happily scooted over to let you join them. The three of you had stayed up half the night, listening to her talk, offering words of comfort, stories, laughter and jokes to make her feel better. After she went to bed the two of you had sat there in a bubble of silence, regarding one another as if you’d each seen a new side of the other that you hadn’t noticed before.

You didn’t run into each other too much on campus, large that it was. Your departments, astronomy and computer science were only vaguely in the same sphere. But with your best friend’s involvement in the Greek life on campus, you saw him every now and again at parties. You gave each other friendly waves, nods of acknowledgement, as you passed in hallways, coming out of classrooms, in various living room parties.

But now here you both are, yet again. Together in this in-between place, once more. Halfway between fall and winter quarters. Halfway between real life and this magical, dreamy holiday place. It’s getting harder and harder to stop yourself from wanting him.

He’s never said anything about it, but you’ve felt his eyes on you. Seen the way that his attention lingers on you in counselor meetings. Noticed that he always tries to stand next to you in line for breakfast, giving you a wry smile when inevitably some hyper twelve year old cuts between.

For someone who belongs to the largest fraternity on campus, he’s much more subtle than you would have expected. Wise beyond his years. Not that it doesn’t frustrate you to no end that he’s never made a move, but you can appreciate those qualities about him – his patience, the way his keen eyes seem to take in every detail of a person. The knowing smile he’d given you two days ago the night before camp began when you walked into the dorm together.

If the Christmas Competition is for the students, the unspoken challenge between you and Vernon is a game just for the two of you. Neither of you acknowledging this… thing between the two of you for the last few years. But this year feels different, the normal holiday magic feels charged with electricity.

Last night, the first of camp, everyone had participated in the annual decorating of the dorm floor you were all staying on. Being the tallest of the group, he was chosen to hang the ceremonial mistletoe. You were pouring apple cider for everyone in the kitchen, but you’d come out just in time for him to step off the ladder. His eyes had caught yours, looking back between the mistletoe and you before giving you a knowing grin and walking off to put the ladder away.

Frozen to the spot, you’d looked after him with a mix of longing and frustration, thinking he’ll be the death of you. Now he’s sitting on the couch with his legs wide, an easy grin on his face, and you can’t decide if you want to kiss him or dump water on him. A mix of both, if you’re honest.

Finally finished with the lights, you move onto the ornaments, staunchly ignoring the way that you can feel his eyes on you as you stretch up to reach the top branches. Your team finishes first, of course. You pack up the supplies and head off to the store room with a smug look at him, giving the boy’s disaster of a tree a raise of your brow.

The dorm being used for storage is a dangerous mix of boxes, packages, and wrapping paper. You do your best to organize the chaos for a few minutes, but suddenly you feel a presence behind you. Turning, you see Vernon in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms folded.

“Can I help you?” you ask, feigning ignorance that there’s anything in the air between you two.

“Would you like a hand?” he offers innocently, motioning to the leaning tower of bags and boxes.

“Oh, fine,” you huff out, edgy at the thought of being with him in such an enclosed space.

He gives you a grin that nearly stops your heart before dramatically rolling up the sleeves of his sweater and diving in.

“So, how were your fall classes?” he asks as he tries to balance an armload of wrapping paper.

“Fantastic,” you start, intending to give a one-word answer, but your excitement keeps you talking. “I’m finally in the advanced courses so we’re actually getting to work on real projects. We’re helping out the local lab with charting the beginnings of a comprehensive Oort cloud diagram,” you say, your voice raising several octaves in your excitement.

When you look over at him he’s watching you with a soft smile, paused in his movements. You impulsively bring your hand to your face, worried that there’s something wrong. “What is it?” you ask, and he blinks and shakes his head.

“Nothing. It’s just - you’re so cute when you talk science,” he says and turns to set down the paper on the desk, completely missing the way your jaw drops.

Without a coherent response to that you busy yourself with organizing the boxes of granola bars on the dresser. “What about you, I think I heard you got an internship at Bethesda?” you ask, trying to keep your curiosity to a normal level.

He turns around, eyes wide and excited. “Yes, it’s been incredible. The new RPG they’re designing – well, I cant give you any details, but it’s going to be huge. I can’t believe they accepted me,” he says and rubs his hand on his neck in a nervous gesture.

“I’m not surprised,” you start. “Jeff Calkins in my advanced database management course says you’re wildly talented. A direct quote.”

He looks stunned for a moment, then his lips pull back into a proud grin, making him too like a little boy who just won a first prize. You spend the next half an hour discussing your majors, your internships, both reveling in the fact that someone in your life understands your obsessions and passions.

His hands make quick work of the mess, his body coming into your orbit as you move around each other; bouncing around each other like atoms in the small dorm room. The connection you feel to him only escalates as you watch his mouth form words with care, every syllable sincere and passionate.

Your gaze lingers too long on him, unable to tear yourself away. The curiosity that’s been building in you for the last two years seems to simmer to the surface on this night, in this room. Your hands fumble with an extra string of lights as the fantasies you’ve had come rushing through your mind.

His lips on yours, his hands on your hips, pressing you against the closet door of your dorm.

His hand holding yours at parties, the sun you orbit around, no longer adrift on your own.

His front pressed to your back, his hands next to yours as you play Space Invaders at the arcade.

Someone who can understand the need you have to make order of the universe, to create art out of data and numbers. Someone who exists between worlds, between cliques, with you.

“Y/N?” he asks from behind you, startling you from your thoughts.

You turn around to find him watching you, hands in his pockets, hip resting against the desk. “Sorry, I spaced out for a sec, what did you say?” you ask in a rush, your eyes unable to stop from wandering to his lips.

His own gaze is distracted, taking in your flushed cheeks, the way you hold the string of lights as though it’s the only thing grounding you to reality. He leans off the desk, walking a step closer to you.

“I asked if you were seeing anyone,” he says in a low voice, laced with hope. His warm eyes find yours, taking a deep breath in just as you feel all the air leave your lungs.

Your brow furrows, your brain seemingly unable to form these words into a concept you can understand. You tell yourself you’re hallucinating, suddenly worried that your logical, fact based mind has slipped into insanity and started merging your dreams with reality.

“Huh?” is all you can say, your shoulders slumping, lips pouting in confusion.

He laughs, delighted by your disbelief. Closing the distance between you in two strides, his hands pull the string of lights from you and set them on the bed. Gently he steps up to you, sliding his fingers between your own and staring down at where your hands have become interlocked.

“Are you seeing anyone? I’ve always felt like we’d be good together. We somehow kept missing each other, passing each other. But I came to camp this year determined to find out if you want me too,” he says, slow and steady, as if knowing how surprising this must be for you. This sudden declaration of feeling.

“I just – no? I’m not seeing anyone,” you manage, your sanity returning. “Wait. You and me? Really?” you ask, wanting to reaffirm that these are actual, real words he said. That he means what you think he does.

He nods, his eyes alight with laugher. “Yes, Y/N. You. Me. Together,” he says like he would explain to a child and you purse your lips at him.

“You know how I feel about you,” you say plainly, wondering if he could somehow have missed the way you’ve been drawn to him these past two years.

“I have no idea,” he says with a grin. “Why don’t you tell me about it.”

You let out a laugh, lips twisting into a wry smile. “Well, first there’s the science thing. God, I love when you talk nerdy to me, too-” you start. Your words trail off on a sigh as he bends forward to place a chaste kiss to your cheek. A noise leaves you as his lips move lower, trailing down your neck, something between a whine and a moan.

“No, no, keep going, I’m enjoying this,” he says, teasing, his hot breath brushing your ear. His lips find the sensitive skin of your neck and you let out a surprised sound. You smother it with your hand, not wanting to draw anyone’s attention to the room.

Your eyes drift close as he continues to press warm, open-mouthed kisses there. You lick your lips and do your best to continue. “And you are so good with the campers, they love you. You show them that it’s okay to belong to lots of different groups, to be many different things at once.”

Finally he pulls back, the lightness in his eyes turning into something deeper. “I want to kiss you. So tell me right now if you don’t like me,” he laughs, releasing your hands and bringing his up to hold your face.

“I like you,” you say in a rush. A second later he bends down to press his lips against yours, the moment stretching out as you try to wrap your mind around the fact that he’s actually here, in front of you, wanting you too.

You bring your hands to his waist, folding yourself into his warmth as you remove any remaining space between your bodies. He moves against you, slanting his lips against yours and capturing them fully. You sigh against him, disbelief turning to passion as you catch up and pull back, needing to look him in the eye.

“So, wait. You like me too?” you ask with a grin.

He laughs quietly, brushing your hair behind your ear with one hand. He nods, looking down at you with a cute smile.

“Tell me all about it,” you say in a light voice, leaning over to press a kiss to his jaw, making him swallow dramatically.

“Okay, let’s start with the fact that you have the current high score on Space Invaders, because that is incredibly hot…” he starts and you smile against his skin.

You emerge back into the main common room together, much later that night - hair ruffled, lips red and swollen, hands clasped together. The space is blissfully absent of middle schoolers or any other adults. The two trees stand at opposite ends, direct contrasts in skill level and aesthetic appeal. You stare at the mess that is the boys tree and smother a giddy laugh that he immediately notices.

“Don’t say it,” he groans, his hands tickling your waist until you laugh and have to slap his hands away.

“But-” your start, holding your hand out indignantly to the monstrosity in the corner.

“I swear I will break up with you if you say it,” he says, a lopsided grin coming to his mouth.

“Okay, fine,” your say with a huff, dropping your hand. A beat later, his words hit you. “Wait a minute… break up with me? Are we together now?” you ask, a wave of hope rising in you.

“It took me two years to catch you. I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon,” he says warmly, leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose.

“Okay, but that really is the saddest Christmas tree I’ve ever seen,” you laugh when he pulls back.

“Oh boy, you’ve insulted Clarence. You’re going to get it now, babe,” he says with a devilish smile, grabbing your hand to pull you against him. His eyes glance up to the mistletoe above your head before leaning down to kiss you again.

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