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wonderlustlucas · 4 years

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jack pot ; part 3 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 6.4k ⇢ genre fluff & angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way) ⇢ warnings (18+) drug use, a suggestive make out & the mention of a boner twice maybe ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n AAAAAAAA omg im so excited to post this, this by far is my fav part of jack pot & i cant wait to hear what u all think!!! sorry its a bit shorter than the other parts, & technically this is the *last* part, but there will be an epilogue where you will see how everything comes to be!!!! have fun reading!!! <3

⇠ part 2

five.

“Oh, fuck, he’s good,” Yeji gasps, shoving her phone into Maddie’s hands before faceplanting into the table.

“Are you H-T-T-P because I’m colon-slash-slash without you,” Maddie reads with a chuckle, thumbs hesitating over the keyboard. “Quick, YN, look up some pick-up lines.”

Closing the tab on the article you should be reading but has been long forgotten, you promptly do as you are told and open the first link from your search, Minho and Jisung leaning in to help. “There,” Jisung stops you, pointing to one, “’Are you a parking ticket? Because you have fine written all over you.’”

The table can’t help but burst into laughter at such a sentence. It’s stupid, but ever since Yeji and Kim Sunwoo began texting, their conversations have been full of tacky puns and emoji-filled compliments.

“Damn,” Maddie whistles, setting the phone back into Yeji’s limp hand, “he’s already typing back.”

“Gross,” Ryujin teases, busy typing away on her laptop. How she manages to multitask so well is a skill you certainly lack. “Why don’t you just like, I don’t know, ask him out?” Jisung asks and when you glance up, he’s looking at you. “Because that’s the guy’s job,” Maddie quickly saves the day, winking to you when you send her a grateful smile.

“Bullshit,” Jeongin scoffs. Everyone, even Ryujin, stops to look at him.

Did he just curse?

“I mean, like,” he stammers, cheeks turning rosy at all the attention, “it’s 2020. Guys have insecurities, too.”

“I agree,” Minho hums, looking to Maddie with hearts in his eyes, “that kind of confidence is enough to make any boy fall in love.”

“Yeah, but—”

Lia rebuts, but your attention quickly falls elsewhere when a text message first appears on your laptop, then your phone.

hwang hyunjin🦔🕺🏻💞🧻 [now] Where r u rn?

Unable to fight your smile, you quickly type back.

[3:39 PM] YN: outside hollin st café [3:39 PM] YN: why? :)

“Have you seen their new house, YN?” Minho asks, prompting you to click your phone off and set it back on the table. “Whose house?”

“Changbin’s parents.”

“Oh,” shaking your head, you distantly curse Chan for keeping your friend busy today. Unlike Jisung, Changbin likes to write lyrics and do whatever other music stuff during the day at a normal time instead of the middle of the fucking night while stoned and trying to finish his computer science assignments at the same time. “No, he forgot to send me pictures.”

“Dude,” Jisung sighs dreamily, “it’s huge. So nice. I think the front door alone could cover tuition.”

“Is it really that nice?” Maddie asks in awe.

“He started to show me pics the other day but couldn’t finish but the kitchen… unnecessary,” Ryujin quips, pausing her work to check her phone. “Yeah, it’s insane. The whole place is unnecessary but the kitchen is like, a house in itself,” Jeongin hums, head shaking in disbelief.

“Damn, now I really want to see it,” you sigh, making a mental note to hunt Changbin down so he can show you. “It’s like Hyunjin and his rings,” Minho snickers, “he has so many. Whenever we’re out, if he sees a ring, boom. It’s his.”

Well, he’s not wrong but… You bite your tongue no matter how badly you wish to defend Hyunjin and his affinity for rings and jewelry in general. The boy has taste, what can you say? You certainly are not complaining about Hyunjin’s long fingers and the way he chooses to decorate them.

“I never thought I’d hear Changbin’s parent’s kitchen be analogous to Hyunjin’s jewelry collection, yet here we are,” Maddie chuckles, leaning over Yeji to peek at her conversation with Sunwoo.

“Wow, speak of the devil,” Jisung pipes up of course as soon as you have reopened the tab to your assignment. Changbin or Hyunjin, you don’t know, head whipping up to find out and a peculiar mix of relief and panic settling over you once you spot the latter. “Uh oh, YN’s gonna go into cardiac arrest.”

As subtly as you can, you elbow Jisung in the stomach and smile at Hyunjin as he nears. “Hey,” keeping his eyes on you, Hyunjin approaches your table and stops behind Maddie opposite from you, “I’m sorry, I should have asked if you were busy.” His cheeks, already flushed, burn pinker once he looks away to smile weakly at everyone else.

“I’m not busy!” You squeak, scrambling to close your laptop and shove it in your bag. “Are you sure? I can come back later?” He offers, tilting his head and this is when you realize he is holding a bubble tea in each hand. And from the looks of it, one seems to be your usual order. “No, she’s not,” Jeongin answers for you, recognizing your stupefied expression.

“I was just – yeah. No,” rushing to stand and swing your legs out around the bench, you nearly fall flat on your face, “I wasn’t doing anything, actually.” Steadying yourself with a hand on Minho’s shoulder, you heave a labored breath before carefully walking to meet Hyunjin.

“Okay,” he beams, either oblivious to how flustered you are or simply choosing to ignore it. Turning to wave to your friends, he hands you one of the cups and you realize it is, in fact, your favorite boba. Oh boy. “See ya later,” you wave to them as well, nose wrinkling when both Jisung and Maddie wink in return.

Following after Hyunjin, you finally allow yourself to take notice of his attire and can’t help but feel confused. He looks good. And not in the good attractive way—he always looks good. But good as in formal. It’s four o’clock on a Tuesday in October and he’s out here looking as if he just got out of a business meeting. White button-down tucked into fitted black slacks, dress shoes, black tie, and he even has a black suit jacket draped over his arm. His hair is styled, too; ever since he dyed it back to black, he’s been growing it out long enough for his bangs to cover his eyes. Now, however, it’s parted down the middle and seems as if he’s ever so slightly curled it away from his face.

Suddenly, you feel ridiculous walking beside him in mom jeans and a baggy sweatshirt from high school.

“Thanks for the boba,” you mumble around your straw, brain still preoccupied trying to get over how utterly handsome he is. “Why do you look so fancy?”

The side of his mouth twitches up at your words, but his eyes stay glued to the sidewalk as you continue to your unknown destination. “I had an audition,” Hyunjin admits, voice devoid of emotion as if it’s not important at all. “An audition?” You echo. “Why do you sound so not super mega excited? How did it go? What was it for?”

“Well—”

“Wait!” You interrupt, stopping your walk once you realize he had an audition and you didn’t know. “You had an audition? What – why didn’t you tell me?”

Hyunjin frowns, avoiding your gaze and dragging his bottom teeth over his top lip. “I didn’t tell anyone,” he finally says before reaching for your hand and tugging you away from the walkway and into your campus’ main courtyard. “Why? Is it some sort of secret or something, Hyunjin?” You scoff, sounding way more annoyed than you intended. But you are annoyed; why didn’t he want to tell anyone?

“No,” he sighs, finding an empty area in the grass and lowering himself to sit, “I just… didn’t want anyone to know. Didn’t want to make it a big deal.”

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, visibly softening for him and settling down next to him, crisscrossing your legs, “it is a big deal. I don’t know what it’s for, but if it’s important enough for you to audition, then it’s important to us, too. You don’t need to be humble twenty-four-seven, you know. I’m sure you could have used our support.”

“I didn’t get it, though,” Hyunjin whispers, “they just – I didn’t get in. I wasn’t good enough.” Sensing the sadness in his voice, you find a lump forming in your throat when you notice the way his bottom lip trembles. “Hey,” panicking, you set your boba down and sit up on your knees to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head into your chest once tears start falling, “no. Don’t ever say you’re not good enough, Hyunjin.”

“But if I did better, practiced more, than I would—"

“Stop,” you hush, combing your fingers through his hair and brushing strands away from his eyes, “I’ve never met someone who works as hard as you do. You can’t beat yourself up over this. Everything happens for a reason. You don’t know what could have happened if you got in. You could have hurt yourself eventually, or maybe met someone who’s a real asshole.”

“Yeah,” is all he says, quiet and muffled when he turns to press his forehead into your sternum, body still trembling as he lets out all his tears. You stay like that for a while, holding him against you and soothing a hand up and down his back until his sniffling falls quiet. “Listen,” you finally sigh, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him back. Your heart sinks once you take in the wet trails down his cheeks and the puffiness of his eyes. “Forget about it. Was it something for dance?”

When he nods subtly, you cup his face in your hands and swipe his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are an amazing dancer, Hyunjin. You can’t let this get to your head. And I don’t want you working your ass off more than you do already. Practice makes perfect, sure, but you need to rest. What about the idea Changbin came up with?”

“The YouTube thing?”

“Yes! Filming dance tutorials or just posting your routines is a really good idea,” you remind him, wiping your hands on your jeans once he falls back onto the grass with a gentle thud, hair flaying around him like a halo. Your limbs twitch with the urge to lie beside him, maybe throw an arm around him and rest your cheek on his chest, fingers tracing the soft features of his face, stroking through his hair and reminding him just how innately perfect he is, inside and out. You, of course, resist such a temptation, flopping down beside him and staring up at the clouds with a heavy heart.

“I could do that. Maybe,” Hyunjin huffs. Tilting your head to look at him, you find yourself knee-deep in that familiar longing feeling, pausing simply to appreciate how pretty he is in the evening sun, cheeks rosy from crying and hair begging to be touched. Shaking your head to rid such daydreams, you remind yourself how fragile his emotions are right now. Now is no time to get caught up on a fantasy. Reaching for your tea, you lean up on an elbow and redirect your gaze to the trees, the promise of winter having turned what was green burnt sienna and butterscotch, leaving trees barren and branches swaying gently in the crisp breeze that leaves you curling into yourself. “You should,” you hum, distant, mind clawing to come up with the words you want to say.

“Come here,” Hyunjin says now, voice stronger than before and when his hand wraps gently around your wrist, you can’t find it in yourself to resist. Allowing him to pull you back down beside him, you curl into his side, resting your head a safe distance away from his own and onto the curve of his arm. “Thank you for being so good to me,” he expresses. You squeeze your eyes shut when the arm you lie on wraps around your shoulders and pulls you substantially closer. “I need to tell you something.”

A long stretch of silence falls upon you and for a moment, you are unsure the words even left your mouth. What are you thinking?

“Wait! I have something first,” Hyunjin sighs, missing the way your breath hitches. “Okay,” you whisper, fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt and focusing all your attention there.

“I just – I think… I owe you an apology,” he finally says, “I need to apologize for something that I did a while ago that I know probably hurt.” Your chest tightens. There’s a lot that has hurt you when it comes to Hyunjin, but none that he’s done purposely. None that are his fault. None that he should be apologizing for.

“I feel like we came to some mutual understanding to not mention what happened when we were freshmen, but it kills me to know that – that something happened, and we never talked about it,” Hyunjin starts, grip tightening on your shoulder and suddenly, you think you are dreaming. This cannot possibly be real. “I know it was awkward but, I also know me and Yiren dating was… ah. I don’t know.”

When he falls silent, you are unsure of what to say or do. You have no idea what the end goal of this conversation is. Hardly a minute ago, your heart and your brain decided it was time to tell him. Now, you’re not so sure you can do that until he finishes, and you are not about to give him your two cents if his reasoning for bringing it up is not the same as yours.

“I just want to apologize for not being brave enough to talk to you about it. I know I was confused, but I’m sure it was worse for you when they told you about her,” Hyunjin continues, sensing your rendered silence, “and it’s been so long since that happened, and now, you’re one of my closest friends.” Ouch.

“But I’ve been thinking,” when he picks up again, your eyes fly open in a panic. He’s been thinking. Hyunjinhas been thinking. You think you are going to pass out. “And I just feel like we… me and you, I mean—"

The standard iPhone alarm blares from beside you, promptly cutting him off and you think it is the biggest cockblock known to man. “Shit,” he hisses, leaning up to tug his phone from his pocket and in the process nudging you from your comfortable position. Sitting back up, nerves aflame and heart racing, your brows shoot up in confusion when all he does is stare at the number calling him. “What are you doing?”

“It’s the studio I was just at,” he scoffs in disbelief, barely glancing at you before looking back to his phone. You have never wanted to shrivel up and die as much as you want to right now. “Well? Aren’t you going to answer?”

Hyunjin makes a noise of acknowledgement before tapping the green icon and bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Sitting quietly beside him, you watch with a forced smile as his hummed responses and subtle nods morph into enthusiastic laughs and wide, beaming smiles. Hyunjin notices your confusion when you tilt your head, mouthing a ‘What?’ to him.

“They made a mistake,” he whispers, covering the speaker of his phone, “read off the wrong Hwang. I’m in.” When he grins excitedly at you, your response isn’t as cheerful as it could be. As it should be. “Yay!” You whisper, clapping gently but quickly turning to your boba when the other line begins speaking again. Looking away, you take a hefty sip, nearly choke on a tapioca ball, and build the walls around your heart up all over again in a matter of seconds.

“I’ve gotta go,” whispering, you manage one more pained smile before getting to your feet and wiping your butt of any possible grass stains, “good luck!” When he shines you one more breathtaking smile and waves excitedly, you hastily head in the other direction, wrapping your arms around yourself and swallowing past the lump that threatens to form the farther you walk.

It must be nice, you think, frantically wiping at your waterline. Must be nice to put yourself out there and have things work out the way you want them to. Must be nice being told you’re ‘in,’ you’re wanted, you’re desired.

It must be nice.

six.

Pick up food, you said. Ask Jisung, you said.

Your conscience is a big fat oompa loompa ass bitch. You would have never called Jisung to ask him if he wanted anything from Taco Bell if you knew he was with Changbin. And not just Changbin, you realized four minutes into your call; Seungmin and Hyunjin, too. Apparently he went over their place to record, or something, and didn’t care to let you know. Not that you’re his mom and he has too—but it would have been nice, and would have saved you from spending almost fifty dollars at Taco Bell.

“I tried calling Jisung but he didn’t answer,” you snap once Seungmin answers your call with a muffled hello. “Can one of you please come out and help me carry this in?” You glance at the five large sodas and two bags full of food in your passenger seat with a grimace. “Sure,” he agrees and you make a mental note for the umpteenth time just how much you love Seungmin, “I’ll be out in a sec.”

True to his word, you spot him making his way out of their apartment and across the small courtyard to meet you by your car not even a minute later, hauling each bag under his arms. “Thank you,” left only with the cupholder, you hurriedly lock your car and follow after him. “No problem. Thanks for being our Uber Eats,” then, pursing his lips, “how much was this?”

“Forty-seven something,” you grumble unhappily, knowing this was a big hit to your debit. “We’ll pay you back, don’t worry,” Seungmin smiles, leading you up the final flight of stairs and kicking open the ajar door.

Immediately, you’re hit with the smell.

“Dear, fucking hell,” making a face, you rub your nose to keep from sneezing, “it reeks in here. How have you guys not been kicked out yet?”

The stench of weed generally does not bother you anymore, but still—they could light a candle, or something. Seungmin shrugs, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter. “Luck, I guess.”

“IS THAT YN?” From another room, you hear Changbin shout, followed by an excited shriek from Jisung. “They’re high. Very high. You’ve been warned,” Seungmin whispers just as tweedle dee and tweedle dum themselves come flying around the corner. “YN!” Jisung grins, engulfing you in a dramatic hug. “Watch,” you hiss, regarding the blunt held between his fingers that comes dangerously close to your hair.

“Sorry,” he smiles, then, without warning, sticks the thing right between your lips. “I didn’t even offer.” Well, when life gives you lemons…

You hesitantly take the hit and blow the smoke away from him. You weren’t planning on getting high today, but here you are. “Thanks,” shaking your head as if that will clear it, you turn to Changbin and snugly wrap your arms around him. Every day you thank the heavens that he is a chill, calm high, unlike your maniac of a roommate.

“Thanks for the food,” fishing into his pockets and pulling out a crumpled ten-dollar bill, he slaps it into your palm. You only hum in reply, shoving it into your own pocket and praying you don’t lose it before you remember to put it in your wallet. “Where’s Hyunjin?” You ask, no longer caring about being slick.

“In his room,” Seungmin answers, rummaging through the bags to find what he ordered. Then, “HYUNJIN!” You jump, reaching for your soda and standing away from the other three until they have claimed whatever belongs to them. No sooner than Seungmin calls for him, you hear a door being cracked open and out comes Hyunjin.

He looks extremely disheveled. Like, just woke up from a two-month hibernation, disheveled. In the blink of an eye, however, he rakes a hand through long blonde hair and promptly sets a baseball cap backwards to keep the strands away and suddenly, he doesn’t look so disheveled anymore. You force yourself to look away, cursing the way your gut twists.

“Gimme my crunchwrap,” you say around your straw, snatching the blunt from Jisung’s fingers and moving around him to fetch your dinner. He doesn’t even protest.

He knows you need it more than he does.

“That’s a lot of food,” Hyunjin says once he has finally entered the kitchen, voice groggy and eyes puffy from sleep. Or from being high, you can’t tell. Pressing his chest to your back, he wraps one arm around you to keep you against him while the other reaches into a bag to take what’s his. Swallowing past the desert dryness of your throat, you manage a thick inhale from the blunt before tilting your head to look at him and mentally thanking the other three for taking it as their cue to head out.

“Not my fault you guys eat like animals,” you chuckle shakily, trying to ignore the firmness of his body against yours, veins prominent on the arm that holds you against him and the ripple of muscle along his abdomen noticeable even through his shirt and yours. Dear god, it is too early for this. Not even seven o’clock and you are already drooling in more places than one.

Hyunjin pouts as if it is not true. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, finally moving away to grab his drink and you can’t help your disappointment, quickly finishing the blunt before tapping it out into one of the many ashtrays. “Don’t worry about it,” you wave off, digging through their drawers for a paper plate.

“YN,” Hyunjin deadpans, regarding you with a raised brow once you come up and begin unwrapping your food. You refuse to look him in the eye. “What do I owe you?” He repeats, firmer this time and it sends a chill down your spine when it most certainly should not. Sighing, you retrieve the receipt from your pocket and count everything he got. “Thirteen.”

Humming in content, Hyunjin reaches for his wallet on the counter and pulls a ten and five out. “There,” he beams, tucking the bills into your pocket himself. Rolling your eyes, you pray he does not notice how you flush and hurry out of the kitchen to join Seungmin on the sofa.

“House Hunters?” You ask with a laugh, looking at the TV once you have settled next to him. “I told you HGTV is the best.”

Seungmin hums in agreement. “I thought it was stupid at first, but Hyunjin was watching Fixer Upper and I got addicted,” he says, nodding to the older boy doing a little dance in the kitchen as he eats one of his tacos. Your heart does somersaults at the sight. “They’re all so good,” you agree after taking a few bites of your own food, eyes trained on the television, “House Hunters is a classic, though.”

“I like the international one,” Hyunjin adds on his way over, crashing unceremoniously next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Seungmin wrinkle his nose when Hyunjin sets his free hand casually on your thigh. “Shh,” he grumbles, vaguely gesturing to the screen and chewing a mouthful of food, “I wanna hear what the house has.”

One episode turns to two, which turns to three, which turns to four, and suddenly you have been watching House Hunters with Seungmin and Hyunjin for almost three hours. It definitely is the weed, always making time perpetually slower, and it did not help when Jisung and Changbin reappeared sometime during your binge with one of Felix’s bongs. Not necessarily how you intended to spend your precious Friday night, but there is no sense in complaining when you are with your buddies and Hyunjin, of course.

Taco Bell long gone, you watch with blurry eyes when Hyunjin gets up from his slumped position against you to head into the kitchen and open the freezer. This, as well as the realization that House Hunters has ended and gone to some other, not-as-cool show, brings both you and Seungmin somewhat back to reality.

“It’s almost ten,” Seungmin announces, staring dazedly at the time on his phone. You hum in acknowledgment, certainly sober enough to reply but simply too lazy to. “I think I’m going to bed. Or play something. Don’t wreck the place,” he sighs, dragging a hand down his face before standing up. “G’night, Minnie,” you smile, watching with a furrowed brow as he continues down the hall and into his room. It isn’t until you hear his door click shut does the weight of being alone with Hyunjin settle on your chest.

It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone with Hyunjin before. In fact, that usually is the way it’s been in the past three years; whether the two of you decided to do your own thing or the rest of your friends eventually left or went to bed, you are used to this feeling. Used to ignoring the butterflies in your gut when he does something particularly cute and used to tampering down the mental images you conjure up knowing it’s just you and him.

But that doesn’t make things any easier. No matter how hard you try, you simply can’t help but feel this way around Hyunjin, especially when you’re alone. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles.

“Whatcha wanna watch?” Hyunjin asks around one last spoonful of ice cream before setting the pint back into the freezer. “Uhh…” You drone, blinking heavily at the TV and back to him as he makes his way back over. “I dunno, I’m sure you’ve been watching some drama. You can put that on.”

“You sure?” He asks with a raised brow, collapsing next to you and slumping dramatically halfway down the cushions. “Yes,” laughing, you find yourself reaching out to tuck messy strands of hair back behind his ear without hesitation, “also, why are you wearing a hat inside?”

Hyunjin pauses, straining to look up as if he will be able to see the back of his cap against his forehead. “I’m wearing a hat?”

“Yes, you idiot,” in comes the endless weed giggles and you find yourself unable to stop laughing, watching with teary eyes as he sits up and takes his hat off. “I don’t remember putting this on,” he chuckles airily, flipping the cap back and forth in his hands before tossing it onto the coffee table. “Should I cut it?”

“No!” You shout a little too quickly and a little too loudly. Shrinking against the arm of the couch, you ignore his amused smile and look to his long hair, freshly bleached strands falling down to his neck and shorter pieces brushing against his cheeks. Fuck, it should be illegal to look this good. “I like it long. It really suits you.”

“It’s annoying,” Hyunjin grins despite his complaint, lifting his legs onto the couch and flopping onto his side, head now resting on your lap. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

Now that he’s offered playing with his hair on a silver platter, you don’t hesitate combing your fingers through it, tugging out pieces stuck under his head and brushing it out completely. “You could pull the sides back,” you hum distantly, separating a section of hair near his temple to pull back, “or make a bun with what you can. You just have to play around with it.”

Humming in agreement, Hyunjin resituates himself after reaching for the remote and switching to Netflix. When you go back to simply raking your fingers from root to tip in irregular directions, you don’t miss the way his eyelids flutter at the motion and make sure to pay extra attention to his scalp. When this turned into a head massage, you’re not entirely sure.

The drama Hyunjin puts on is unbearable. You stopped paying attention a while ago, focusing more on him and how he seems to enjoy it, fingers busy braiding random sections of hair, taking them out, and then braiding them again. With two finally done the way you want them to, you are midway through the third when your fingers begin to cramp up.

“Why’d you stop?” Hyunjin asks seconds after you drop the braid and stretch your fingers out. “Fingers are cramping,” chuckling at the disappointed pout of his lips, you crack what knuckles you can before going back and undoing the unfinished braid. “Oh,” he mutters, cheek still pressed against your leg, “feels good.”

Humming in response, you ignore the way his words make your heart swell and begin gathering all his hair into a ponytail, pressing the braids to lay flat and finally tying it with a hair tie once you have combed up all that you can. Immediately, his bangs and hairs closer to the nape of his neck fall out, leaving the ponytail spikey and messy. At least the braids look good. You can’t help but giggle.

“What?” Hyunjin asks, pausing his show and leaning up. “What’d you do?”

“Go see for yourself,” pointing to the bathroom, you comb out a looped piece of hair before he stands to do just that. His ponytail bobs the entire walk there.

When he reaches the door and flips the light on, you watch from your position as he checks himself out, brushing away his bangs and flicking the pony. You frown when he accidentally yanks at a braid.

“Come here,” you say, sitting up, “you messed up the braid.”

“Honestly,” Hyunjin considers his reflection one last time before skipping his way over, “it doesn’t look half bad.” Expecting him to sit back next to you, your pulse quickens when he anchors a hand to the armrest and leans in front you, only inches away from your face. “No, definitely,” you say once you have gotten over the shock of him being so close so suddenly, “I like it in the ponytail. You’d really impress the girls if you braided your hair yourself.” Reaching up to tuck hair back into the braid and press it down flat once more, you don’t miss the way his brows draw together and lips twitch down. “What?”

Time ceases to exist as Hyunjin begins to come closer. In reality, you know it simply is a matter of seconds, but all of space and time seems to still once he leans forward. It feels as if an eternity goes by, allowing you to count each individual eyelash, memorize the details of his skin, take note of the smoothed lines on his plump lips. The way time slows is cruel; it allows panic to set in, the realization that he most certainly is looming over you with his eyes on your lips sending a spark of excitement and anxiety through your veins.

And then, just as this realization and this panic has set your nerves aflame, a gentle hand comes to cradle your jaw before Hyunjin’s lips press against yours.

It is so easy to surrender to the taste and touch of him. Instantly, an eruption of emotions and thoughts spiraling out of control fills you, yet your brain focuses only on Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. This is not the first time you have kissed him, nor the first time simply having him so close, but the feeling that radiates from your heart outward is unlike anything you have felt before. This is uncalled for. This is not like two years ago. You were not expecting this.

Hyunjin sighs into the kiss when you lean up to loop your arms around his neck. No sooner have you done this, he breaks away to sit beside you once more, hands reaching for your waist and guiding you to sit over his lap.

You could kiss him all day, you think, palms lying flat by his collarbones before fisting the material of his shirt when his tongue prods at the seam of your lips. Blood seemingly coming to a boil and nerves sparking dangerously, you find yourself quickly sobering up as the minutes tick by, completely and utterly addicted to him and this feeling, this feeling you have craved but never crossed the line for. And now, it’s yours to keep.

Forgetting the braids, you seize the opportunity to rake your fingers through his hair. Different, than how you did earlier. Desperate. Combing it away from his face once, twice, swallowing his groans when you tug at the roots, you realize with a whine that his hands have left your face in favor of dragging down your sides, circling back to squeeze at your breasts, rubbing at your thighs and finally sliding back to your ass, situating you more comfortably on his thighs.

When Hyunjin finally breaks the kiss to journey elsewhere, littering chaste kisses across your jaw, below your ear, down your neck, the weight of your actions finally hits you. It is overwhelming, the way you come spiraling back to reality, and you are not sure if the quiet moan that leaves you is due to the press of something else against your thigh or simply the realization that you are making out with Hyunjin.

You have to stop before you get hurt again.

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, shuddering when his soft lips brush against your jaw, “wait. We need to talk.”

He pauses at this, fingers digging into your sides and you feel his frown against your neck. “What’s there to talk about?” He murmurs, arms sliding around you and tugging you closer, prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him close and pretend like his boner isn’t digging into you.

It’s your turn to frown. “About us,” whispering, you lift one hand to stroke through his hair, “we need to talk about us.”

“I thought my feelings were very clear,” Hyunjin scoffs, all tenderness in his voice gone. Instinctively, you lean back, blinking at him in surprise. “Unless this is just another one of your games? Does this not mean anything to you, YN? I don’t think I could stomach you running off to Changbin or fucking Chan again.”

His words pierce your heart before you have even fully processed them, hurt flashing across your features and your body goes numb. “What?” Is all you can manage, scrambling to get away from him, chest heaving and eyes suddenly burning with the brine of tears. “What are you talking about, Hyunjin?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” He shouts. You flinch, not from the way he raises his voice, but from the genuine sadness in his eyes. “The past three years have been a constant battle with you. We’re best friends, for fucks sake, I figured out a long time ago that you have feelings for me. Feelings more than best friends. Yet every fucking time we started moving in the right direction, you turned your back on me.”

You can do nothing but stand there and let the tears fall. All the words and bottled emotions you wish to say are right there on the tip of your tongue, but you simply cannot bring yourself to voice them. Not when he’s right. Not when you have turned your back on him time and time again.

And then, he hisses more to himself than you, “Is this just sloppy seconds? You never once thought about my feelings in all of this?”

The anger brewing within you suddenly bursts from the dam and hisses through your body like deadly poison. “Sloppy seconds?” You snarl, fists clenching. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Your feelings? You just said you know how I feel about you, so why didn’t you ever do anything about it? How was I supposed to know you felt the same?”

“I thought it was pretty fucking obvious,” Hyunjin spits back, gaze narrowing, “didn’t think I had to spell out the fact that I like you, YN. You’re a smart girl.”

“Do not treat me like a child,” clenching your jaw, you have to look away for a moment, pacing one, two, three steps, hands raking through your hair and wiping away the stream of tears from your cheeks. You have never been filled with such rage. Having finally reached its boiling point, it now consumes you whole, sweeping off in waves and destroying all boundaries. “Confessing is not an easy thing, as you apparentlyknow, so don’t make me seem like the only idiot here. But maybe I was wrong about you if you think of me as just sloppy seconds.”

“I never said that!” Hyunjin barks, standing up to grasp your wrist when you turn away to grab your keys. “Don’t put words in my mouth! I would never, never think of you that way. I just don’t understand why you never spoke up after all this time. I’ve been dying, YN, you have no clue how badly I have been—”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” you snap, yanking your arm away from him, “I told you, Hyunjin. Telling someone you love them isn’t as easy as learning to ride a bike. You’re right, I have turned my back on you. But not intentionally. I’ve been scared, I’m a pussy, whatever.” Biting your top lip as if it will stop the tears that continue to fall freely, you avoid looking at him and glance back to find not only Seungmin, but Jisung and Changbin, too, peeking out from their doors with eyes blown wide with shock. Once you have noticed them, however, they panic and scramble to get out of sight.

Sighing shakily, you look back to Hyunjin and cannot ignore the way your heart sinks at the sight of him. Even upset, he is beautiful. You wonder how much you will see him after this.

“You don’t have to tell me you like me back to make me feel better, Hyunjin,” bouncing on your heels, you suddenly feel exhausted, body and soul heavy with the words you not only spoke, but heard, too. “We can figure this out another day, but for now, I need to go home. I’ll see you.”

Turning away once more, you do not make it very close to the front door before he stops you once more. “Wait, YN,” Hyunjin huffs, smiling softly when he reaches for your hand and you do not pull away. Running his tongue over his lip, he seems to hesitate for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Did you mean it when you said you love me?”

⇢ epilogue

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starkzam · 4 years

Note

I have a prompt ~ No one in the League knows Billy's identity, and since he's been in so many bad homes, whenever one of them raises their voice or goes to pat his back after a job well done he flinches. Everyone on the League think it's cause he's not used to human interaction. But when the Young Justice notice it they take to protecting him in small ways, like putting themselves in-between him and the League. Even though they think he's this immortal God, they have an urge to protect him.

Ooh... I’ve gotten similar prompts before, but I like the twist of them thinking it’s cause he’s not human...

Here’s a first try— might do something bigger on Ao3, who knows—

• • • • •

Billy Batson— or, in this form, Captain Marvel— found himself staring off into space in the middle of a meeting. It wasn’t something he did often, but sometimes his thoughts wandered when a meeting was particularly lengthy or boring.

He must have been doing so for a long time and was in there pretty deep, as the sudden hand on his shoulder was like a (literal) shock to his system. Lightning arched outward from his muscular build on instinct, his eyes widening as he flinched hard and curled away from the touch.

The meeting room was gone, replaced with a dark closet full of boxes and clothes, and the raven wasn’t Cap anymore— he was little Billy Batson, bruises on his face and collarbone, scratches and cuts on the palms of his hands and forearms. His hair was a ruffled mess, his cheeks tinted red and tear-stained.

His thin frame trembled as loud, harsh voices rang out just outside the door, yelling, crying out and bashing against his skull. He wanted them to stop, wanted them to go away, wanted it all to just—

“CAPTAIN!”

The demigod gasped, eyes wide as he came back to himself. He was staring at Flash, who sat directly across from him, and visibly shaking. He couldn’t control the tremors running through him— he hadn’t had an episode like that in so long, what had brought this on—

He glanced at his shoulder, finding the hand that had been there previously hovering in the air. He followed the hand upward and found it belonged to Superman of all people— the Kryptonian was watching him with wide eyes as the demigod suddenly stood.

“I have to go.”

• • • • •

Cap hummed you himself softly as he worked on making sandwiches, getting lost in his own head as he spread various ingredients on bread.

“Hey, Cap— nice job today,” a voice said from behind him, causing the man to glance back and find Green Arrow of all people grinning at him.

“Didn’t know you could eat so much— you could almost put the Flash to shame,” Oliver said with a chuckle, bringing a hand up to clap it on the demigod’s back.

Captain Marvel flinched hard, the man’s hand feeling like fire against his skin. He lurched forward closer to the food he was making, causing the archer to furrow his brow and drop his hand.

“You okay there buddy?” The blonde asked, tilting his head in question as Marvel’s grip tightened around his butter knife. “You not like bein’ touched or something?”

Marvel stayed quiet, swallowing thickly and nodding shakily. “Not uh— not- not used to it,” he replied, setting down his knife. “Sorry.”

Oliver grinned, setting his hands on his hips. “Oh, don’t worry about it Cap— I’m sure an ancient god dude like you isn’t used to being around us common folk. It’ll just take some getting used to,” he said with a chuckle.

Captain Marvel stayed quiet, picking up his butter knife again. “R-right...”

• • • • •

“Mission report— from everyone,” Batman said, his tone more harsh and demanding than usual. A few of the League members shared a look, some rolling their eyes and others staring warily at one another.

Captain Marvel wrung his wrists together anxiously— he’d majorly messed up during this mission, and because of him someone had nearly gotten hurt. He wasn’t looking forward to highlighting that again— especially when it was something Batman had witnessed first-hand.

Flash was first to give his report, babbling about damage and civilians and goons, Batman listening with a grim expression. When he was done, he was dismissed. “Marvel,” Batman said, looking towards the demigod.

“Report.”

Captain Marvel swallowed thickly, nodding at the Dark Knight and taking a step forward. The man already knew what had happened, he didn’t want to recap. “I worked on minimizing damge, for the most part. Kept a skyscraper from collapsing, as well as put out a fire before it could do too much damage.” He said before dropping his gaze.

“I experienced a momuntary lapse in judgment, and—“ he let out a shaky breath in an attempt to calm himself. “And put civilians in danger.”

Batman stared him down, silently.

“You actively put civilians in the line of fire,” Batman growled out lowly, his hands clasped together as he stared at the taller raven. “You nearly killed an entire family, Captain.” He said, raising his voice.

“Your arrogance nearly murdered innocents!” Batman yelled, standing up and slamming his hands down on the table. Captain Marvel stiffened, his back straightening as he flinched and eyes took on a sudden sheen.

Some of the other heroes furrowed their brows at his reaction. Marvel’s posture was stiff and straight, his muscles tense and fists tight at his sides. If they looked closely, they’d see his breathing sharp and short, verging on panicking.

“I’m- im sorry, sir.”

“You damn well should be,” Batman growled, glaring the demigod down.

Marvel stayed still as the Dark Knight dropped his gaze, sitting back down with a huff. “Lantern. Your turn.”

• • • • •

Captain Marvel ran a hand through his hair as he stepped out of the Zeta Beam, trailing after the Young Justice team as they came into the Watchtower. He’s been assigned to help them on their latest mission, and overall it had gone fine— apart from the fact that he’d sort of been captured and the teenagers hadn’t stopped arguing the entire mission.

Something he should have been able to stop— he was supposed to be the peacemaker, and he’s more than failed at that aspect. Sure, he’d given Aqualad advice on how to keep his team a cohesive unit, but he still never should have allowed them to split in the first place.

And now he was going to have to pay for it.

Captain Marvel followed the group towards the main meeting room, the metallic doors sliding open and revealing the rest of the League. The demigod glanced at his spot at the table longingly— oh to not have to give this report— before shaking the thought away and straightening.

“Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman,” he greeted as he and the teenagers came in, making his way to the front of the group and holding his hands firmly behind his back. He was sure that the kids behind him could see how tensely he was holding himself, he could feel his forearms trembling and his nails digging into his skin, but he couldn’t focus on that right now.

“The mission overall was a success— the team was able to figure out the source of the animal attacks as well as get rid of the collars being used to cause the animals to attack people,” he said, taking a steadying breath in and letting it out.

“Thought we did have complications.”

He didn’t see the teenagers sharing looks behind him, or see them shuffling uncomfortably as Batman’s eyes narrowed on the hero. Captain Marvel took a slight step forward, making sure the man’s hard gaze stayed on him, rather than the others— something the team took notice of.

“What complications.”

Marvel’s nails dug further into his skin, hard enough that, had he not been bullet-proof, he would have broken skin. “I allowed myself to be captured,” he said, flinching slightly when Batman’s glare grew slightly harder. “And I allowed the team to split up.”

The teenagers behind him furrowed their brows— Cap hadn’t ‘allowed’ them to split up— they’d done it on their own, out of their own arrogance and misguidance. They didn’t understand why he’d take the fall for them like this. “I know that I was sent along with the team to make sure the mission went smoothly, and I failed in that. It was successful, but it wasn’t smooth.”

Batman stayed quiet as Superman sighed. “Was anyone hurt?”

Captain Marvel shook his head, causing some of the teenagers eyes to widen slightly— Marvel himself had bearly had his head carved into; the PTSD that could come from that should have more than counted. Why- why was he doing this?

Batman pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh. “You’re benched for the foreseeable future, Captain.”

Anyone in the room could tell the demigod was hurt by this, if his flinch was anything go by, but his expression remained neutral. “Y-Yes sir,” he said, nails finally breaking skin and causing blood to trail down the base of his palm and drip to the floor.

“You’re dismissed.”

The teenagers behind him stared at the demigod shocked, watching as the man nodded and turned to leave, maneuvering around them and leaving the room hastily. He left a trail of blood behind him, dark red spots on the bright white tiles.

Conner was the first to take off after him— the others were quick to follow. Someone needed to check on Captain Marvel.

#shazam #starkvenger #billy batson #captain marvel #batman #billybatson #dc #dc comics #fanfiction #justice league #young justice #writing prompt #fanfic prompt #prompt fill #Starkvenger Prompts

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cs-discourse · 5 years

Text

here we go

https://cs-discourse.tumblr.com/post/179953845684/uuuuwuu-every1-whos-concerned-abt-biased-judging

ok this attitude has been pissing me off long enough that it's time for one of my Big Ole Posts (tm) about how shitty this is! thanks.

uuuuwuu every1 whos concerned abt biased judging in comps is just soooow entitled !!!1 i cant bewieve ppl wouldnt want some1 whos literally explicitly stating at this point that they trust their friends more to "demonstrate dedication to the character" they assign to a design to b an influence in judging comps !!!!!11 bc artists Never weigh in on other artist's comps, so obviously thes ppl just want fwee merc designs !!!1!!1 also my last braincell just died pleas h

so here's the og post in question for quick reference

i honestly have no idea why people keep bringing up this idea of bias in judging competitions because, while i do think there is a type of bias that certainly exists, i think a lot of so-called "bias" that people have is ... not whatsoever like what people think it is lol. artists are people and there's always going to be SOME kind of bias no matter what you do, because it's literally fuckin impossible to NOT be biased. by that i mean:

your taste in plots/types of characters/medias influence your judging

quality of writing or art can influence your judging

the person who's applying for the adopt you may have previous judgement about

even if you say you aren't biased, you STILL have preferences and tastes in things that you prefer more than others, which in of itself is a kind of bias

people who know you (friends for example) will naturally know what your taste is.

a competition is judged based on what form the artist thinks is best, right?

NEWSFLASH EVERYONE'S IDEA OF "WHAT'S BEST" IS DIFFERENT FROM PERSON TO PERSON ..... "BEST" is literally the most subjective thing there is, and while i agree that there are certain aspects of art and writing that you can use as objective measurements of tangible skill, it's... still subjective. what people think is "best" will vary from person to person because we all have different tastes. so, essentially, this boils down to the idea that the winner of an adopt competition will ALWAYS be the form the artist liked best, because that is what the artist perceives as best. so like. when people appear biased in adopt competitions towards friends or certain circles, it's probably because they're literally friends because they have similar tastes in things, and therefore the form the artist likes best is naturally going to be from someone who shares similar tastes.

so whenever i hear about """bias""" in competitions i just kind of roll my eyes tbqh because it's usually followed by complaints of "BUT I PUT IN SO MUCH EFFORT" or "I WROTE SO MUCH MORE THAN THE WINNER" uhhhh. if adopt contests were won by effort alone it wouldn't be a contest, it'd be an endurance test lol. literally just "who has the most time to waste writing out 60000k words of absolute meaningless fluff"... because, i hate to break it to you, but ANYONE can write 5000 words of mindless drivel that has literally no substance to it.

now in caps for emphasis. takes a deep breath

THERE IS NO SKILL NEEDED TO BLOAT YOUR WORD COUNT.

YOU DO NOT NEED TO KNOW HOW TO WRITE WELL TO WRITE 5000 WORDS.

YOU JUST NEED TO KNOW HOW TO TYPE AND PUT SENTENCES TOGETHER.

quality > quantity, always. like, i'm sorry you put in so many hours of effort but, those people who win with MUCH smaller wordcounts... did they not work to get as good as they did with writing? you put in 5 hours into one tryout. but others, take me for example: i have been writing for over 10 bloody years. i've worked hard to improve my writing, so you can't tell me i "didn't put in as much effort" as you because i did. i put in YEARS of work to get better so doing simple things would take me LESS time now. inb4 IT'S UNFAIR! dude, the literal definition of a contest is for the best to win. it wouldn't be a contest if it wasn't like that lol. it'd just be charity. what you should be doing instead of complaining about it is ASKING FOR CRIT and WORKING TO IMPROVE like a good sport? i get that it's discouraging but you should be prepared to lose when you join a contest. it's valid to be upset about but the moment you say you deserve it more than others JUST because of your effort, then i have a problem.

and you know, there's gonna be times where i think a comp winner is objectively less skilled than other tryouts. honestly i just kind of shrug that off on account of different taste lol. sometimes that's just how it be, bc of those predetermined biases i mentioned before, and maybe a judge and i are just in completely stages of life so what i call quality might not appeal to the judge. that's also fine. anyway this really got off on a tangent but i'm leaving it in bc i think it needs saying. back to the og post

> i cant bewieve ppl wouldnt want some1 whos literally explicitly stating at this point that they trust their friends more to "demonstrate dedication to the character" they assign to a design to b an influence in judging comps !!!!!11

wtf didn't i address this in a different post

here let me link it for you

https://cs-discourse.tumblr.com/post/179841459154/post179838988303-the-difference-is-that-you-have

which was replying to this: https://cs-discourse.tumblr.com/post/179838988303/179837734509-idk-anon-i-kinda-agree-with-the

i said it once but i'll say it again: artist entries aren't main adopts lol. people don't work for artist entries. all you fucking do is post on one like "can i have this pls" .. there is... no effort put into that lol. main adopts you WORK for. it's a CONTEST. claiming an artist entry is NOT a contest. if a bunch of little nasty gremlins come running up to me like a hungry horde trying to be the first one to claim my design, i think giving friends first pick is COMPLETELY FINE, BECAUSE WHAT DID ANYONE ELSE DO TO "DESERVE" THAT DESIGN? nothing. you did. nothing. you're literally coming here with this attitude that NOT GIVING THINGS AWAY TO STRANGERS FOR FREE SOMEHOW EQUALS BIAS? i literally do not understand your logic whatsoever. like. i'm trying really fucking hard. at least with main adopts the "payment" is the effort you put in trying to answer the artist's prompt. i know i sound super dumb repeating myself but i don't know how much simpler i can make this concept tbh

and this is EXACTLY why i say ya'll are fucking entitled because merc and any of the kal artists could be making REAL $$$$ selling their own designs and adoptables and art and NOT deal with all the bs ya'll throw at them. they're literally here because the ENJOY MAKING ((( FREE ))) CONTENT for you, and they're not obligated to do this. they can stop whenever they want. if you had to pay per hour for the length of time collectively worked by ANY species artist staff, the lot of you would be fucking broke. i'm actually constantly shocked that species artists work like, 8 hours or more on some of these gorgeous designs just to give them away for free in a contest.

so, yeah, as someone who hasn't spent my entire life on CS (i've only been here for a year and a half), ya'll seem pretty fucking entitled to me lol. the world outside CS rarely gives out such gorgeous designs in write-to-adopt contests so i'm honestly baffled at the amount of bloody entitlement i see

>bc artists Never weigh in on other artist's comps, so obviously thes ppl just want fwee merc designs !!!1!!1

this part i don't actually understand what you mean. do you mean they... help judge other comps? or like, enter them? i don't get what you mean by "weigh in" but listen, lol. just because something DOES happen doesn't mean it gives you a good reason to assume the worst. i mean... of course it happens. it's statistically impossible for skewed contests and bias to NOT happen, because there's always going to be cases of it happening. but like, what proof do you have that merc will be biased lol? like, real proof? because your main point i've basically debunked and don't believe in at all. do better than "i cant bewieve ppl wouldnt want some1 whos literally explicitly stating at this point that they trust their friends more to "demonstrate dedication to the character" they assign to a design to b an influence in judging comps !!!!!11" because this doesn't make any sense to me for the reasons i already listed above lmao. if artist entries were supposed to be contests they'd be contests. what the hell makes you important enough to get first dibs on a stranger's work. ARTIST ENTRIES AREN'T EVEN MADE TO BE GIVEN AWAY, THEY'RE MADE AS ARTIST ENTRIES.... LIKE.... JESUS i struggle to understand ya'll

anyway im done here, if you wanna actually talk and debate this hmu on discord at lysander#9229 bc if you actually talk to me instead of spew this hot mess on the blog i might actually listen to you and change my mind and be nice about it instead of being a condescending bitch.

wait one more thing

>also my last braincell just died pleas h

yea clearly

p.s., why do you ppl keep going to the blog to give critique on merc's designs when on literally every other design merc makes there's this:

https://www.chickensmoothie.com/Forum/viewtopic.php?f=38&t=3950980

here i even linked it for you. idk why it's so hard for yall to give constructive crit like decent human beings

#cs discourse #submission

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weirdfetishes123 · 3 years

Text

Can You Handle the Load? - deviantart

This is a story about a young man named Brad. He is 5'10, 165lbs, athletic, has a decent body, and all around is pretty cute. His life was a normal conservative one until he came to college and was cut off the leash of society. Brad thought he was straight for a long time, he had always gotten it up when looking at girls and he even had a girlfriend in high school, but he found that while other guys enjoyed the hunt for girls at the frats, he liked the brothers and fellow guys he hung out with. Pledge term with other guys was what really affirmed this for him though and this is where the story begins.

The basement was dark, there was no light, no hint of anything. Brad began wondering to himself, "what had he gotten into by pledging here". He was blind folded well. He could sense other guys around him, he could hear them breathing. Secretly he hoped this night was going to be like one of those stories he read on the internet, that he had recently and secretly begun masturbating to, where the brothers of the frat would make them do sexual stuff with the other pledges and themselves. Brad may have been bi, but he knew that if it ever came to sex with another man he would want to be the one getting fucked up the ass. Ah, that thought of his sexual orientation gave him a slight hard on at that very moment. What he would give to have some hot college bro stick his young, lively cock up his still virgin asshole. Suddenly, the blindfold was ripped off of him and the lights turned on. He was standing in the middle of ornate room where all the brothers were wearing face paint and all had a handle of vodka in their hands. It was at that moment that he realized his sexual pledge term fantasies would most likely not come true. It was also at that moment that he realized whom else was in his pledge class. His friend Tom was there as was Bill, he had a secret crush on the both of them because they were his closest friends. They had okay bodies, but Brad wasn't picky, he would enjoy whatever he could get as long as it was safe and discrete. He looked down the line and saw some other okay guys until his eyes fell against Chris. He had never met him, but he knew him just because of how hot his body is and how all his girlfriends would gossip about him. Chris was a swimmer; he had a tan lean body, perfect abs, perfect chiseled chest, and the most beautiful boyish face ever. As he sat there eye fucking Chris, a brother suddenly came before him and said, "This is going to be a long night." Then he shoved the bottle of Jack Daniels in front of his face and said, "Drink."

Long story short, Brad got extremely drunk and was completely out of his mind. He kept telling himself to keep his cool no matter what urges came over him with his feeling towards his other brothers. God, though, how he would love to get fucked tonight. Brad wasn't the only one fucked up either; all the other pledges were in the same exact state as he. Brad knew he was messed up and would come out tonight unintentionally, if he stayed out at the frat house. He decided to head back to his dorm which unfortunately the farthest dorm on campus; the "outskirt" as his building had been nicknamed. It would take him a good 20 minutes to get back to his room and that is if he didn't get picked up by the police because he was still underage being only 19. While his room assignment was unfortunate, it seems that something good came out of it, for at that moment when Brad was about to leave, a very happy, drunk Chris stood up on a table and announced his departure from the house. Chris announced, " I'm going home, I love this house. Fuck, anyone headed in the direction of the outskirts? I fucking hate my room. Anyone, someone please keep me company." It was like a miracle. Brad stood right up and the two of them walked into the night.

This was his chance. Brad looked over at Chris and introduced himself. "Hey, Chris, right? Yo, I'm Brad." Chris looked over at him and responded, "Brad it is nice to meet you. So you live in the middle of no where as well." The two of them talked for awhile about how sucky their living situation was, then the situation took a turn in a much different direction prompted by Brad asking Chris about his swimming. God Chris looked radiantly like a god, Brad knew he must just look gorgeous naked or in his speedo for swimming. "So you swim, right." Chris replied, "Yeah man, you do any sports?" Brad laughed and said told him he didn't. "Dude look at my body, do I look like I'm an athlete? My body's nothing anyways compared to your sexy beauty." Wait! Did Brad just say that, oh how he wished he could take back that moment. Chris looked at him baffled and looked away almost as if he was offended and creeped out. All Brad could do was continue walking next to him, nervous of what might come next. Brad then muttered embarrassed, "Im so sorry, I don't know what to say?" Then Chris interrupted, "Don't apologize man. Now that you said something I can say that I find you attractive as well." What?! Did Chris just say those words. Chris continued, "Dude, I have never told anyone this but seeing that we are frat bros and you have come out to me, in a sense, I wanted to tell you that I'm bi as well." Brad just stared blankly. They had just reached their dorm. Brad then said, "Wel…Do you wanna….?" Chris then grabbed Brad and said, "Fuck yes!, I have a roommate though." Brad then came to the rescue, " I have a single, let's go."

Was this really happening? How did things work out this perfectl? When Brad got to his room he opened the door and then they both entered shutting the door behind them. Besides shutting the door, they shut out all of society's nosy eyes and rules. This was there night to give into their desires. To Brads surprise, Chris pushed him on the bed and then began kissing him using an amazing amount of tongue. Chri's mouth tasted so good. As Chris lay on top of him, he already felt the bulge in Chris' jeans giving rise into his stiffening groin. Brad was literally in heaven, fighting his orgasm. He was very inexperienced. He then removed Chris' shirt and began sucking and licking all over his perfect chest and abs. This lasted a good 5 minutes, when Brad sudden;y made the bold decision to undo Chris' jeans which were actually slightly damp with precum. As soon as the jeans opened, Chris' 8inch member popped out like a jack in the box. He wasn't wearing boxers, god that turned brad on. Brad took the massive thick, beautiful cock and shoved it in his mouth. He sucked like there was no tomorrow, tasting all the precum he could want as he fondled Chris balls. He noticed Chris was very well endowed for not only was his cock massive and beautiful but also his balls be large and very full. With every downward motion of Brad's head, Chris' cock was shoved deeper and depper until Brad found himself gagging himself. This even eventually lead to Chris beginning to throat fuck Brad. Oh the abuse, it was fantastic to Brad. It was then that Chris pulled his cock out of Brad mouth and sat up on the bed concerned. Brad asked, "What's wrong, did I do something wrong?" Chris then said quickly, "No man, no, its just…. I want to warn you I have an abnormally large load. Like it will come like there is not tomorrow, and I don't want to hurt you." Chris then replied, "I can take it, I don't care. In fact I want you to fuck me up my ass and unload in me." Chris then smiled and began the process. He completely removed Brad's pants revealing his 6inch average cock. To Brad's surprise he actually sucked it for a while and then moved behind him. Luckily Chris had brought lube that he got for free through some sex ed thing the school did for athletes. He lubed up and inserted his member, with difficulty. At first, the pain was intense for Brad as Chris forced his throbbing cock deep into Brad. Once he got it in though, the feeling was insane. Brad couldn't help but moan so loud, he was sure his neighbors could hear. Chris then began pumping away; his perfect abs gave him the best most sensual thrusting power. After 5 minutes Chris exclaimed, "I can't hold it anymore, here I come get ready." Chris yelled, "I'm ready." What came next shocked Brad, he felt a surging rush of liquid shoot up into him. It was weird though, it was continuous. It was warm and pushing the walls of his anus. Chris wasn't kidding at all. Chris was cumming like a fire hose. There was no end. Brad then nervously yelled, "What's going on, I feel so full pull out!" But Chris wasn't listening he was in an orgasmic trance. Brad felt so full, the cum filling him up. It felt like he was constipated but could relieve himself, the pressure just kept building. Then Brad started to freak out, his stomach started to fill out into a round pregnant like belly. What was happening? And why did it feel so good? He was filling with cum, the cum had traveled up his intestines and into his stomach, he was filling up and out. Suddenly Chris moaned extremely load and Brad felt and extreme rush like no other. As if to defy all physics his belly was the size of a beach ball and getting bigger. Then Chris stopped. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry! I tried to tell you. I didn't know if would be like that!" Chris now looked pregnant and said, "are you kidding me this feels amazing. Now lets get it out me." Chris had an idea, but would Brad think he was gross? Chris asked, "Could you possibly push it back out into my mouth and all over me?" Brad nodded and moved his new mass over to Chris began sucking on Brad's asshole

as Brad pushed. Soon all the cum began emptying out into Chris. Chris' perfect abs began to lose definition as his belly expanded. It was sexy though. Brad then stopped when he was half as big. Chris asked, "Why did you stop, your right that's amazing." Brad turned to him and said, "Let's fuck like this." And they did with there new bellies until each of them cummed all over each other and returned to normal size. From then on out Brad always got a nightly serving of Chris cum. College was going to be a blast.

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starlillies · 7 years

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lucaya fic where maya goes missing and lucas is a mess

so this prompt is really old so im very sorry about that. this monster of a drabble is a gm triangle au, bc we all know the whole maya identity crises arc was handled terribly, so this is my attempt to fix it, it takes place a few hours after maya said “you want me to go home? i’ll go home.”

“Dude, you need to decide.”

“Look, I,” he hesitated. “I think I know who I choose. I just need to talk to them.”

The boys approached the Matthew’s front door, not the window, upon Zay’s insistence. Lucas was once again baffled by the fact that they kept their front door unlocked. They walked in to see Cory and Topanga … and Katy?

“Uh, hi,” Lucas said, rubbing the back of his neck. He really didn’t need all of the parents to be here for this. “I need to talk to the girls.”

“They’re in Riley’s room,” Katy said, raising an eyebrow.

As Lucas made his way up the stairs he could hear Cory sputtering.

“You just sent him to my daughter’s room!”

“Don’t worry sir, he’s in there all the time.”

Zay needed to learn how to keep his big mouth shut. Lucas shook his head and knocked on Riley’s door.

“Come in.”

Riley had changed into her pajamas and was sprawled out on her bed reading their English assignment. She lit up when she saw him.

“Lucas!”

“Hi,” he said, glancing around the room in confusion. “Is Maya in the bathroom?”

Riley’s face fell and she looked down at her nails. “No, we had a bit of a disagreement. She went home.”

“But, her mom is still in your kitchen.” Riley’s head popped up.

“She is?”

“Yeah, and she thought Maya was up here. How long ago did she leave?”

Riley shrugged. “A few hours ago I guess.”

Lucas’ heart skipped a beat. “No one’s heard from her for hours? And no one was concerned?”

He was texting Maya before he finished his sentence. Riley’s mouth opened and shut and then she texted her too. Lucas was halfway down the stairs before she had gotten off of her bed, his phone pressed to his ear.

“C’mon, pick up pick up pick up.”

The chatter at the table died down as they heard the pair coming down.

“What’s going on?” Katy asked. “Where’s Maya?”

Riley looked at her sheepishly as Lucas cursed and redialed Maya’s number.

“We don’t know.”

“Lucas, dude you gotta calm down.”

“How can I calm down? Maya is missing. It’s been hours since anyone heard from her and her phone is going straight to voicemail and Riley said when she left she was upset and—”

“Lucas.” Farkle grabbed him by his shoulders. “Katy went to check their apartment and she’s calling Shawn and Kermit. Riley went with Cory to check all of Maya’s favorite places and Topanga is talking to the police. We’re gonna find her.”

Lucas ran a hand through his hair and paced around Riley’s room. He hadn’t sat down or even really breathed since they realized Maya was gone.

“But what if something happened to her? What if someone took her? Oh my—someone actually could have kidnapped her. What if we never see her again? What if I never see her and get to—”

He froze. Zay raised an eyebrow. “Never get to what?”

“Nothing,” he sighed. He covered his face with his hands. “I’m just worried about her.”

“I know man. We all are.” Zay stood and put a hand on Lucas’ shoulder comfortingly.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna work. I’m getting him a Xanax.”

Zay pointed after Farkle. “That is a great idea. Try not to,” he motioned widely with his arms, “damage anything.”

Just like that Lucas was alone. He took a deep breath and dropped onto the edge of Riley’s bed. He shut his eyes to try and calm himself down, but all it did was bring up the image of Maya—her hair and her smile and the way her eyes shone when she called him Ranger Rick and—

“Huckleberry?”

Lucas’ head snapped up to see Maya kneeling, half inside the window. Her feet barely hit the ground before he had swept her up into a hug so tight that she had to turn her head to the side just to breathe.

Maya’s heart began to race as soon as he touched her—she hoped he couldn’t tell. She had taken off her jacket and he had taken off his button up and there was more skin-to-skin contact than she had ever experienced with him. It made her feel warm all over. She had never been this close to him, and the last time she was even near this close to him was—

Thinking of Texas would not do her any good right now.

“What are you doing here? Where’s Riley?”

“Looking for you,” he said, finally releasing her. She looked up at him, her mind fuzzy.

“Looking for me?”

“Maya, no one knew where you were. Your mom thought you were still here and Riley thought you were at home and you weren’t answering your phone and I—we were all worried about you.”

Maya felt her face flush and she looked away. “I turned my phone off. I didn’t really want to talk to anybody.” Then, almost imperceptibly, “To Riley.”

Lucas’ face softened. “Riley mentioned you guys had a disagreement. What happened? You guys never fight.”

She took a deep breath. “Today in art class Mr. Jackson said some things about my art, about me not having a voice or whatever. And it—it didn’t sit well with Riley I guess. We came back here and she started saying how I wasn’t me anymore because I was behaving and getting good grades and that kind of stuff, and then she told her parents and they brought my mom into it and,” she paused. She had grown quieter with every word she spoke. “They all agreed with her. They said I was … broken.”

“Maya—”

Maya waved a hand dismissively. “And then Riley got it in her head that not only was I not me anymore, but that I had turned into her. Because of our outfits and our hair and you.”

His face fell. Had he caused this? Had his inability to choose driven the girls apart? He tried to meet her eyes but she kept them directed at her hands as she picked at her nails.

“Well, I thought it was stupid and I was angry. So I left and I turned my phone off and I went back to school.”

“You were at school?” He asked incredulously. Of course she would have gone to the one place no one would ever expect to find her. She chuckled.

“Yeah. I knew that Mr. Jackson kept the art room open after hours and I wanted to see if Riley was right, if I had really lost myself. So I tried painting for a bit, and then Mr. Jackson came in. We talked and he said he had taken another look at my painting and that he loved it.”

“That’s great!” Maya made a face. “Not great?”

“Not really. He said it just had to be looked at from farther away and,” she took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. “It was a purple cat. I painted a purple cat, Lucas. Riley’s right—I turned into her.”

Maya looked so small and so hurt and so defeated and it broke Lucas’ heart. He grabbed one of her hands and made sure she was looking at him.

“Maya, look at me. Riley was not right. You didn’t lose yourself and you definitely did not turn into her. First of all, it’s impossible to actually become someone else. Second of all, what was that lesson Mr. Matthews taught us, the one about the secret of life?”

“People change people,” she said softly. Lucas smiled.

“Right. People change people. You saw it with me, didn’t you? I used to be angry and violent, but meeting you guys changed that. You guys changed me for the better. You didn’t become Riley, you’ve just been influenced by her. You haven’t gotten detention in a while because you matured and you realized what was appropriate and what was crossing the line. You started getting good grades because we’re in high school and grades are important and because it feels good. Maya, we all saw how happy you were when you got that A in Spanish.”

There were tears in Maya’s eyes but she laughed.

“Just because you’ve changed doesn’t mean you’re not you. Everybody changes, especially when their teenagers. But you are still you. You still make fun of Mr. Matthews and you still make jokes in class and you still pretend to hate school. You still defend your friends no matter what and help them no matter what. You still talk to the homeless man in the subway station near your apartment and give him a dollar or leftovers whenever you can.”

The tears in her eyes began to fall and Lucas brought his other hand up to wipe them away, lingering on her cheek.

“You are still you because you are still sassy and funny and selfless and kind, and I know that because those are all only some of the things I like about you. You’re Maya, and Maya is amazing.”

Maya looked at him like he was the only other person in the world—in that moment, he was. They both knew that in the past few minutes something big had changed between the two of them.

“Do you feel a little better now?”

She nodded and smiled. “Yeah. Thank you.”

Lucas wouldn’t stop looking at her in a way that made her feel something and she knew if she didn’t do something to stop him he might do something she wasn’t ready for. She wiped at her eyes.

“Now we can figure out this stupid triangle thing.”

Lucas shook his head. “What is there to figure out?”

“What do you mean?” Maya asked. Had he seriously forgotten about the disaster that had been the past few months?

“Maya, do you really think, after all of that, that I’m not gonna choose you?”

Her eyes widened and she blinked owlishly. He laughed and tugged on her hand.

“Come on, let’s go let everyone know you’re ok.”

Riley backed away from the door quickly, hurrying into her bathroom and shutting the door. She was ok. Well, she would be, and when Lucas picked Maya, she would be ready.

#i like this one hopefully it makes up for the crap the others have been #i barely went over this there might be mistakes #maya hart #lucas friar #riley matthews #lucaya #lucaya fanfiction #girl meets world #fic #my stuff #ask #request

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