#sorority!reader

And now, you were given a golden opportunity to spend more time with her. You were planning on having a chill and uneventful night during your break, you were texing Ellie when she had told you about how she was grounded in the city because of the weather and couldn't fly home to see her father before Christmas as planned. You could detect the loneliness in her tone even though text, so on a whim you had invited her to come up to your sorority house to spend the night together.

While a part of you felt bummed that she wouldn't get to spend Christmas with her dad like you could tell she wanted, a bigger part of you was ecstatic. Pretty much all of your sorority sisters had left the house to go spend their winter breaks back at their sprawling multi-acre homes or at scattered snowy resorts in Aspen or the Swiss Alps, leaving you all alone save for only two freshmen girls and your house mother who frequently left once it got dark.

Which left you plenty of time to get up to... solitary activities. Well, solitary until Ellie came over to join you.

In the few times you've slept together in your bedroom, Ellie always made the time to get a few minutes to admire your personal space, messing with the trinkets that littered your shelves and walls. Tracing a finger along your PinkPantheress poster, twiddling with your miniature Bratz charms, commenting on how cute she found your little family of calico critters. You wouldn't admit it yet, still unsure of exactly what this was besides two people hooking up and becoming friendlier after each passionate tryst, but you liked how interested she was in the small things that made you who you were.

You didn’t like it when her curiosity led her to the box carefully hidden under your bed. To be fair she wasn't really looking for it, ending her short few minutes of exploration before the both got up to your usual activities and starting her usual trek to your bed. She had dropped her hands to lift up her sweatshirt, your eyes eager to catch that first glimpse of her freckled skin that led to her boxers when you both stilled at the sound of a thump, the sound coming from beneath your bed.

Ellie looked down, confused about why her foot had just banged into a box covered by spare blankets beneath your bed when it was unlike you to leave anything so unorganized in your room.

"What's in the box?"

"Nothing." Damn, you answered too quickly. You could tell by the quirk in her lip at your nervousness.

"Really? You, Mrs. Perfect Sorority Princess, have an empty box just sitting beneath your bed? I don't believe it. You hate mess."

"It's not a mess, it's just one box, Ellie!" You whine, feeble in your attempt to grab at her arm to try and stop her from looking inside.

"C'mon, I'm sure it can't be that bad-"

Well, it wasn't bad, per se. Ellie knew that you were, in more inappropriate terms, a little freak. She had a hunch ever since the first time you both slept together that you were hiding more under the surface when it came to your desires, and you made those desires abundantly clear with each ensuing hookup. Asking her to be rougher, to be a little more dominant, to be a little more submissive; if you asked for it, she gave it to you. Maybe it said something about her that she often caught herself waiting by the phone in anticipation for you to send her a text begging for her to do whatever dirty thing you could conjure in that pretty little brain of yours, but over these past few weeks she was starting to care less and less about dignity when it came to you.

So it more than shocked her that you seemed so flushed at her finding your box of hidden sex toys. She would've guessed that you would be eager to show this to her the first time she slept over in your room, even more eager to use them on yourself with her. Or use them on her. Jeez, she has to remind herself to focus.

"Wow."

"Ellie..." You whine, hoping that the sound of her name in your mouth would distract her enough that you could snatch the box back from her hands. Yet as soon as you reach to take it from her she jerks it back, chuckling at your feeble attempt.

"C'mon, babe, let me see what we're working with here."

She carefully observed the contents of the box, gleefully ignoring your pleads and whines as she looks over your collection of paraphernalia- a bullet vibrator, a light pink rose toy, a dildo so thick it makes her brows raise, hell, you even have one of those scissoring vibrators she spotted on twitter late one lonely night.

"Babe, this is...wow."

You groaned, dramatically tossing back and burying your head into your fluffy pillows to try and avoid humiliation. You don't look back up until you feel the familar texture of Ellie's rough hand glide up the skin on the back of your exposed thighs, the red-head sighing when you still insist on ignoring her and using her hands to flip you over by the hips until you're looking at her. Jeez, you almost forgot how strong Ellie could be when she wanted. Seriously, you needed to focus.

"Why are you so embarrassed, huh? Not like I'm surprised you have sex, think im one of the few people who know how much that you do-"

"Ugh, Els-"

"I'm serious!" She insists, pushing back a stray curl that escaped from your hair wrap. Like usual the gentle contact only adds to your nervousness, mixing with the doubt and worry about the real reason of why you were so nervous to let Ellie see your collection of toys.

Because really, Ellie was right. After your first amazing night spent together you were more than eager to show her every sexual fantasy you could come up with in your head, including some of your more indulgent dreams about Ellie watching you use your vibe on yourself while begging and pleading for just the chance to touch you, or even sharing it between the two of you while you writhed in overstimulation together.

But then, like the universe could see how badly you wanted something, it decided to immediately put doubt into your head. A random article about distaste in sex toys between couples before overhearing some of your sorority sisters whisper about how their boyfriends were turned off by the thought of their girlfriends using sex toys, insisting that their pleasure should be in 'their own hands' was enough to sow the doubt growing inside of you.

And yes, while Ellie wasn't your boyfriend, let alone someone as suspect as a traditionally masculine frat guy, she was still a sexual partner that you liked, and had made no mention of wanting to bring toys into the bedroom so far. Your mind quickly came up with multiple scenarios of Ellie dismissing your suggestion, or even worse, calling you weird and leaving you behind with only your vibrators for comfort. And yes, while those vibrators did their job incredibly well, you weren't too proud to admit that Ellie's fingers alone did a far better job than any of your toys could.

"I just... I didn't want you to...Ugh!" You groan, plopping back into your pillow and settling for covering your face with your hands to hide yourself. You sounded so silly, you thought. Now your inability to communicate a simple worry will be what drives her away instead of the toys. Who wants to have a situationshio with someone who has a tantrum every time they have a problem?

But you should've known Ellie was smarter than that. She can quickly tell that whatever your reason is for not telling her about the toys is genuinely distressing you, and she drops her teasing facade and switches into caring mode, gently rubbing her hands over your exposed thighs, trying her best not to get distracted by the smell of your sweet vanilla lotion.

"Hey, c'mon, you know you can talk to me about it, right? I'm not gonna like, make fun of you or anything."

You let your eye peek through the gap of your fingers, watching her and finding the obvious sincerity in her eyes, drifting down to her firm and lithe fingers etching invisible markings into your skin. It makes you nervous instead of embarrassed at how easy this feels with her, how you already believe her with just one sentence and want to tell her everything going on inside her head.

She notices the anxious look on your face and reaches up gently to take your hands off of your face, already able to hear how you'll complain about ruining your nightly skincare routine in the morning. Ever so gently she nudges your head up with her finger, smiling to herself once she sees your expression turn bashful at her closeness.

“You can tell me if I made you uncomfortable, y'know? I don't want to push you to do something you don't want to do.”

You feel a warmth flush throughout your body at her gentle assurance, a feeling you've grown accustomed to since you started sleeping together. It still made you dizzy just how sweet she could be to you, how her dominance and teasing could quickly turn into nurturing and patience. You wouldn't dare listen to that part of your subconscious that wanted more of it, wanted more of her.

“I'm just… I heard that some people don't like that stuff, and I got embarrassed…” You whisper, slightly cringing at how dumb the words sound once they leave your mouth. God, this was so unlike you. Embarrassed and insecure at what a girl you hadn't even known a month would think about your collection of vibrators.

Her expression is blank for the longest ten seconds of your life, your stomach dropping with every passing moment until she bends over your lap in laughter, genuinely having a fit as you hurry to try and shush her so she doesn't give away her presence in the house. You push her back and sit on her lap while one of your hands covers her mouth, her giggles still wracking her body and the vibrations traveling into yours.

“It wasn't that funny, I'm sure.”

“’M sorry, I'm sorry it's just -” She gasps under your palm, hand coming up to weakly pull at your wrist so she can speak. Once her laughs have died down you relent, taking a second to gaze at her flushed and freckled face before she explains.

“Who exactly did you hear from that most lesbians don't like vibrators?”

“Well, it wasnt from other lesbians, per se…”

She follows your gaze as your eyes drift over to the door, and it takes every last bit of strength she has to quell thr laughter building up again.

“Please don't tel me you took advice from the Princesses of Pilates.”

“Not just them! I saw an article online about-”

Your explanation is cut off when Ellie rises up on her hands to kiss you, the words dying out in your throat as you let yourself sink into the gentle press of her lips on yours. Your arms raise to wrap around her shoulders, a soft groan leaving both of you at the feel of your chests pressing into each others.

All too soon she's pulling away, a gentle trail of spit still connecting you to each other as you both watch it with lustful eyes. Her lips quirk up at the sight before ducking down to press a series of quick kisses to your lips until you're stuck giggling in her mouth.

“You can be so silly sometimes, y'know?”

You scrunch your eyebrows and squint at her before she leans down to kiss your cheeks, before moving down to your neck, your lashes fluttering at the feeling of her teeth gently nipping at your skin.

“Are you… Are you making fun of me or trying to sleep with me?”

“Don't see why I can't do both.” She laughs.

You let out a mix between a groan and a whimper as she continues her ministrations across your neck, forgoing her usual care not to leave any marks now that you can cover them up with a scarf and not be side-eyed. Her rough hands come up to palm at your chest over your frilly pajama top, cheering internally at finally getting to feel your boobs after nonchalantly looking at the imprints of your nipples through the shirt. She suddenly pinches one, eyes looking up at you as you whine at the painful sensation.

“Now, be a good girl and pick which toy you want me to use first.”

“Don't know why you were so nervous, angel,” She mumbles, her green eyes intense as she looks down at your bare body writhing beneath her touch. “Still think I'm like those douchey frat guys your sisters see?”

You whined, one of your legs jutting out and your back bending into an arch as the overwhelming pleasure grows in intensity. Your manicured fingers dig into the freckled skin of her thighs as she moves the buzzing pink vibrator higher so the vibrations are right on your clit, the stimulation making your eyes cross and letting out a high-pitched gasp that makes Ellie bite her lip to stop her own pathetic sounds from coming out.

Her lips kiss and bite at the skin of your covered shoulder, always eager to show you affection while she watches you fall apart beneath her. Her free hand trails over the soft fabric of your pajama top before reaching up and pinching your nippleq, a slight chuckle leaving her lips when she feels you arch into her hand and beg under your breath for more.

“How many times have you used this thing, huh?” She whispers, the heat of her breath tickling your ear while the vibrator continues to buzz away on your cunt, “Can see it in my head now, you biting your hand while you fuck yourself stupid on your pretty little sheets.”

“Ellie, fuck, more, need more-”

“Yeah? You want it higher? Think you can keep quiet?” She asks, smiling when you nod your head before she can even finish the question. Never the one to deny your begs, she presses the button on the device to turn the vibrations up even higher then before, immediately able to see the difference when your body starts to writhe from the overwhelming stimulation and a series of whiny moans leave your parted lips, her hand quickly coming up to your mouth to muffle them, lest the last few of your sisters still in the house hear you and come to investigate the problem.

She mourns the sound of your moans for a few seconds, letting herself briefly dream of a day when she can indulge in your body and hear every pleasured sound that leaves those pretty lips of yours. For a second, she even wishes that your sorority would find out about your… ‘relationship’, and leave you two to your own devices, giving her the freedom to sneak into your window and make you scream as often as she pleased without the fear of being thrown out and spritzed in the face with expensive perfumes.

But for now, she’ll enjoy seeing you like this - the tiny beads of sweat dripping down your panting cleavage, your legs shaking and struggling not to close, and every so often she gets the slightest glimpse of your trembling cunt beneath, able to see your slick covering the toy when it hits the light at just the right angle.

She feels her own cunt clench down as you fall apart in her arms, your body thrashing as your orgasm wrecks you completely. Indulgently she leaves the toy on you for an extra few seconds, taking pride in the way your hips twitch away from the stimulation and your hands claw at her wrist. Eventually, she relents, tossing the toy to the side to be cleaned later, before she guides your body to fall back into hers, gently adjusting your askew bonnet as you recollect yourself.

“Thank you, fuck, I needed that.” You laugh, breathless and smiling, when you look up at her over your shoulder.

Ellie smiles in return, placing a gentle kiss on your lips that you melt into. For just a few seconds, you let yourself be consumed by the overwhelming presence of just her, how it feels to be in her arms, and to have your lips on yours. You almost wish you could both stay like this forever, uncaring about the thoughts of your sorority sisters and the other students who would probably side-eye your relationship and are only worried about when you could be in her arms again.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Ellie's lithe fingers travel under your top to palm at your breasts, a hoarse moan passing through your lips as her rough fingers pinch at the sensitive peak of your nipples, her own mouth grazing over your neck and teasingly biting at the skin.

“You ‘needed’ that, huh? Bet you've been so pent up waiting for me with only your toys to get you off, yeah?” She whispers, eyes lidded while she feels nearly drunk off the pleasure of pleasing you. It only stokes that fire inside you when she gets like this, so dominant and sure of her control over you once she's dragged an orgasm out of you.

You dazedly nod at her question, eager to please and even more eager to have another orgasm. She quietly laughs at your reaction, her hand drifting back over to your toy box, previously tossed haphazardly to the side, and pulling out one of the objects that first caught her attention earlier in the night.

Your dildo - translucent pink, girthy, and a solid 7 inches that feels heavy in Ellie's hand. She holds it in her grip for a moment, gazing at the object as her brain conjures up the vision of all the past times you must have used this on yourself; how the folds of your cunt would open up to accept the pink intrusion, the push and pull of the cock showing up under the brown skin of your stomach, how your slick would drip down to the base after you had worn yourself out. She could already tell she was going to be keeping these mental images close to her for a while.

“Ellie…” Your needy whine reminds her of where she is, your hand coming up to her wrist to bring her hand holding the dildo lower until it’s hovering just over your cunt, the mushroomed tip grazing your clit and causing you to bite your lip.

“You gonna take it all for me? Huh?” She asks, dragging the toy up and down over the lips of your cunt until you really start to beg and whine for it, looking up at her with teary big brown eyes that always make her promise to herself that she'll give you whatever you want, that she'll happily do whatever you beg her for because she truly doesn't think she wants to do anything else for the rest of her life.

In one swift moment, she plunges the cock inside of you, her other hand rushing to cover your mouth when you let out a deep and satisfied moan. Your head falls back onto her shoulder, your body pliant as she starts to thrust the toy in and out of your wet heat, nearly sighing in relief when she hears the familiar sounds of your pussy stretching around the dildo.

Your muffled cries only encourage her to go faster, her wrist starting to strain with the rapid movements of her hand still tightly gripping the base of the toy while she fucks you like a woman on a mission. Her hand held over your mouth adjusts so she can stick two of her fingers inside your mouth, her own clit twitching when you bite down on her knuckles to mute yourself further.

“Els, fuck, Ellie-”

“You close?” She mumbles, able to tell what your muted moans around her fingers are trying to convey. She notices how your chest is heaving yet again, your legs struggling to stay open, before she uses her legs to lock yours apart. The increased access allows her to thrust the fake dick even deeper inside of you, bringing you even closer to the edge than you were before.

“That’s it, give it to me, baby, show me how pretty you look cumming around your pretty toy.”

And like her words commanded it you do, back arching and eyes rollingn into the back of your head as you twitch and gush around the dildo just like she wanted, her green eyes widening in delight when she sees your cum steadily coat the pink toy until it forms a milky white sheen over the plastic. She keeps thrusting it inside of you until your hand wraps around her wrist, too tired from overstimulation to bring her to a complete halt.

“Yeah? Sure you dont want another?” She teases, giving a few extra rough thrusts that make you yelp in surprise, your hand coming up to slap over your mouth. She bites her lip to stop her own laugh from escaping, carefully pulling the soaked cock from your folds, looking over the wet sheen and debating her next choice.

It was her turn to be nervous, now, as she subtly bring the tip of the dildo closer to your face; it was a frequent fantasy of hers when she strapped you for you to wrap your pretty glossed lips around the head of her dick, your big eyes looking up at her as you choked around the object, eager to please her before she did the same for you. But she knew some girls didn't enjoy going that far, so she had hesitated to ask you to do it.

But without even thinking about it you part your lips, pink tongue rolling out so the tip can rest on the wet muscle. She's sure there must be stars in her eyes as she starts to fuck your mouth with the toy, her free hand gripping your thigh to try and calm herself down. Once she's decided you've hadenpugh she stops, pulling the dildo out of your mouth and tossing it into the toy box before yanking your head around to press her lips onto yours, her own tongue bullying into your mouth to lick up any last remnants of your cum she can find.

She kisses you like that for a while, sucking on your tongue until you feel dizzy off of the feel of her before she drags her lips down and away, deciding to kiss and suck at your neck to make a few more marks.

“Y’know, I've been thinking about this - ah, fuck - this…double ended…dildo…” Your voice trails off into an airy moan as she continues to bite at your skin.

And when Ellie pulls back to look at you, her green eyes twinkling and a smile stretching over her kiss bruised lips, you dont know why you were even nervous to begin with.

monday — 11:32 p.m.

being in a sorority was your favorite thing in the world. the sisterhood, the living arrangements, the benefits. it was everything you could wish for and more. you even loved your president and rush chair despite their sometimes strict-ish rules. it wasn't too bad; good grades, good behaviour, mandatory attendace at all chapter meetings, events, and rituals, dress a certain way, talk a certain way. blahblahblah. those were all things that had been ingrained in you long before you came to university but the no boys after seven o'clock rule? that one was a little tougher to swallow. a girl has needs.

you weren't sure how quiet you were being, you never could really focus when rafe had you like this, ass arched up, face roughly stuffed into your frilly off-white anthropologie pillow. you could vaguely hear the moans coming out of your drooling mouth but most, if not all of your focus was on rafe pounding his thick cock into your gummy walls, abusing your aching pussy, "quiet, baby..emily will rip me a new one if she hears us," rafe's voice barely broke through the sex haze you were in as you rutted into your sheets.

how could he ask you to be more quiet but fuck you even harder? "rafe..! mm, p-please.." you blubbered, tears in your eyes as his hands gripped your waist still and kept you from sinking into the bed from sheer lack of strength. he let out a low groan when you pushed back into him at every thrust, "that's it, that's my girl."

“oh god, oh god, rafey..!” you whimpered when rafe’s tip hit your cervix and slammed against it over and over driving you completely silly. he buried himself deep inside of you whilst holding your hips and relentlessly pounded into your sweet cunt. “doin’ so good, baby.” he grunted against your neck as your cunt sucked him in eagerly. “look at that pussy suckin’ me in..”

his hips drove against you, fucking into your hole and hitting that fuzzy spot that made you delirious every time. rafe had to shove your head into the pillow to muffle your whines that were only getting louder as he drilled into you.

just then, a quiet knock on your door. "hey, you okay in there?"

your eyes widened, panic taking over your body when you recognised the rush chair, aaliyah's voice. fuck, fuck, you were screwed. even more screwed considering rafe was still pounding your pussy relentlessly. "rafe.." you whispered with the hope that it would sound like a warning but it just sounded like the most pathetic, quiet whine.

"mm..mhm..y-yes!" you cried, your eyes fluttering from the pleasure and you arched your back even more, gripping your pillows for support.

"you sure, girl? you don't need a medic, right? because steffi was vomitting yesterday so we had a medic for that and i just don't want the board to think we're milking all their resources for—"

"yes!" you screamed out, the feeling of pure ectascy taking over your body and your vision went all white. you could hear rafe quietly groaning as he pumped his load into you only a second after you came.

"yes, you do need a medic?"

tuesday — 9:08 p.m.

it wasn't usually every day. the sneaking in. this week was just going to be a stressful one, for the both of you. you had a midterm in the morning, class from 8 to 6 on thursday and you had to squeeze a manicure inbetween one of those classes so you wouldn't even get to eat lunch with rafe (tragic), friday morning rafe was going away until saturday morning which you truly saw as a crime against you, saturday you had a mandatory sorority event that would take the whole day but atleast rafe was coming as your date and then sunday rafe had a frat thing where you could unfortunately not be his date because it was members only. so, basically, everyone hates you and the world is against you.

"rafe, i have to study..!" you gripped the edges of your desk and planted your feet to the ground as rafe tried to tug you away from your notes and laptop. "you've been studying all day, it's time for a break." he said firmly and his arms came around your waist, lifting you from your chair. you almost screamed but closed your mouth upon realising emily would come running and see rafe here two hours past curfew.

rafe threw you onto your bed in the least graceful way he could and you bounced into the pillows with a gasp. "it's clear you've never studied for a statistics exam. breaks don't exist in the land of statistics." you say and roll your eyes when he sits on your bed with this stupid smile on his face that made it impossible not to love him.

"i had statistics in my first year. pretty sure the prof had a thing for me." he laid his head down on princess peach's head. not her actual head. a plushie of her head which he was crushing with his even more massive head. "mm." you hummed and gave him a nasty once-over. he laughed so hard you had to smash the nearest pillow on his face with wide eyes. "rafe, quiet!" you hissed, with your body almost toppled over him with how quick you jumped to silence him.

he was still smiling when you removed the pillow 10 seconds later. "you enjoyed that." he said and he was absolutely right, you did enjoy that. "it felt very liberating to shut a white man up, yes." you smiled like you had just done something to be truly proud of. "well, that was my break—" you were halfway across the bed when rafe grabbed your ankle and tugged you right back where you were. luckily the sheets muffled your shriek. "you're going to break your brain, doll." he sat up and pulled you between his legs.

"i'm going to break your bones if i fail my exam tomorrow." the threat was empty, hollow, transparent even. on a bad day, you couldn't even open a jar of peanut butter and you knew the two-ish hours you still wanted to study probably wouldn't make much of a difference BUT what if? what if maybe? just maybe it did? then you'd blame rafe and you'd be forced to bring harm to this beautiful boy you loved so dearly. just because he wanted you to rest instead of working yourself to death.

"in that case, my bones are fine." he murmured pulling you against his chest, his warm hands slowly travelling up your blue loveshackfancy pyjamas. your head dropped onto his chest as his hand gently cupped your tits, the calluses on his palm brushung against your sensitive, hardened nipple. he kissed along your ear, the tip of his nose grazes your earlobe before quietly asking, "you just need some rest, don't you?" your hand rested lightly on his arm as he fondled your tit in his hand and you sighed with a subtle nod, body melting like putty in his hands.

his other hand travelled down to your pyjama shorts, his fingers teasing your clothed slit, pushing gently against that warmth yet making sure to not push all the way in just yet. your back arched, a whimper escaping your lips at the fleeting feeling. "rafe.." you whined, eyes fluttering, bracing your neck and he hummed leaving kisses along your exposed skin. "n-need you." you murmured, your hand still on his forearm, praying he'd just slip it down your shorts already.

"yeah? you need me? my sweet girl needs my fingers?" your eyes close and the fluttering that takes over your body makes you wonder if you didn't just cum at just his words. it wouldn't surprise you.

"help me out, sweetheart." he says and you were confused for a moment until your eyes opened to his fingers inches away from your lips. you didn't hesitate, eased his digits into your mouth in desperate need to just empty your brain, stop the overflow of thoughts and this was the perfect solution.

your tongue coated his fingers in spit and held onto his wrist to slowly push his fingers deeper down your throat. you whined around his fingers, pupils dilated, completely lost in the motion and rafe's hand comes up to wrap around your throat, pushing up just slightly so your head was tilted up giving him the perfect view of you greedily sucking his fingers. "shit, baby, that's perfect.." he sighs and you can feel him hardening against your ass, you have this burning desire to push back, to grind slowly and drive him insane but you feel too weak to do anything, focus on anything with his fingers inches deep in your mouth.

the moment ended entirely too soon but you had no time to utter out a whiny complain because his hand was down your shorts and fingers between your folds, grazing your slit and thumbing your clit. you gasped and arched away from him the moment his thumb made contact with your slit. "c'mere." he pulled you right back in, flesh against his chest. he made sure your legs were nicely spread apart before he started circling your clit, "rafe..rafe!" you moaned, head dropping on his shoulder as your hips bucked against his fingers.

he focused his attention on your clit, thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive nub that absolutely drove you. you writhe in his arms, his hand covering your mouth so you didn't alert anyone with the whines coming out of your mouth.

you were constantly trying to close your legs and then spread them wide again, unsure of what you really wanted. rafe made sure to keep them open. "oh, god, rafe, god!" you cried and a gasp escaped your lips when you felt his fingers push inside of you. your toes curled on the pink bedsheets, fist tightened around the princess peach plushie rafe was resting on earlier.

rafe kissed down your neck, sucking on your skin and the pleasure from both his lips and his fingers made it impossible for you to think straight at all, you whined, writhing against his fingers, broken moans coming from you. "f-fu.." you stammered and gripped rafe's wrist, "f-fu..dge." you cried, eyes rolling back and you vaguely heard rafe's quiet chuckle at your inability to curse even in these moments due to years of sorority drilling. "m' close.." you whined feeling his fingers thrust into the deepest parts of you, digits angling just perfectly whilst his fingers gave your clit all the attention. "gonna cum for me, princess?" he rasped and you moaned, nodding furiously and pushing your hips against his fingers, "please, p-please..!" you felt that overwhelming sensation, the stars in your vision, the arch of your back and then your pussy was creaming all over his fingers.

you went limp in his arms, exhaustion taking over completely as rafe slowly pulled his fingers out. he slowly hoisted you up, arms under your thighs and on your back. "where r we goin'.." you mumbled sleepily, "the bathroom for a shower, baby." he says and you were shaking your head knowing very well that there was no way you were going to stand on your two legs right now. "ah, so you'd rather sleep all sticky in a dirty bed?" he asked and you stiffened, immediately shaking your head.

shower it is.

 thursday — 7:09 p.m.

he was here again but today was seriously, totally justifiable. yesterday after your midterm, he had class and then he had to pack so you didn't see him at all. then today had been a marathon of misery: classes from 8 to 6, a meltdown in the middle of the day over your botched nail set—because you’d been too timid to correct your nail tech—and now you were stuck with these nails for weeks. you’d cried, teary-eyed and embarrassed, brushing off questions about your distress because admitting to crying over a nail set seemed absurd.

on top of that, the awful weather wrecked your hair just two days before an event and three days before wash day, leaving you utterly defeated. you’d called rafe in tears, your voice breaking for barely two minutes before he was on his way, determined to make his girl feel better.

now, you’ve claimed your rightful spot on rafe's lap, straddling him with your arms wrapped securely around his neck. it started innocently enough—soft kisses and tender words murmured into your ear—but quickly escalated. his hands settled on your hips, guiding them in a slow, languid figure-eight motion.

his lips moved against yours, soft and deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world. it didn’t take long for him to coax your lips apart, drawing him closer. you focused on the sensations grounding you: the feel of his hair between your fingers, shorter at the back, and the way he groaned when you tugged. the fresh, clean scent of lemons and lavender lingered on his skin, a sign that he’d showered after the gym—he’d never ever come to your room without making sure he was clean.

when you finally pulled back for air, your breaths mingled, and his forehead rested against yours, his patience infinite as he waited for you to catch your breath. “you’re tired,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. and he was right. you were exhausted—up since 8 a.m., crying once already without the reprieve of a nap (criminal), and now it was 7 p.m. but you didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to let today end because tomorrow, rafe would be gone.

“m’not,” you whispered, stubbornly shaking your head. his eyes narrowed knowingly, and he began to trace slow, calming patterns along your spine. you peppered his lips with soft kisses, each one met with gentle reciprocation, but your resolve didn’t last long. your eyelids grew heavy, and eventually, your head dropped onto his chest, his warmth lulling you into much-needed rest.

sunday — 10:11 p.m.

apart from sex with rafe, wash day was probably the most intensive part of your whole week. it was not only hard on your arms but also very, very time-consuming. you enjoyed it—most of the time. it could feel therapeutic and you did love getting clean but then other times it was frustrating and tiring and you just wanted to give up and shave your head. you didn't though.

it was in the middle of rinsing your hair that rafe invited himself into the bathroom. you could see him through the foggy shower glass closing the toilet lid and sitting down. "you're taking too long."

you rolled your eyes and slid open the shower door, "i should just shave my head, right? i could totally pull off the britney look." your hand reached for your towel and you wrapped it around your body tightly before getting out of the shower and slipping into your fuzzy slippers. "or jada pinkett smith." you stared at yourself in the mirror trying to imagine yourself bald and rafe scoffed, "you'd have a mental breakdown within ten minutes of doing something like that."

you couldn't dispute that. "you would still love me, right? if i was bald like britney and jada?" you looked at rafe, brows raised and he hesitated for just a second, not even—a millisecond. you gasped at him and violently threw three rolls of toilet paper at his head. he held his hands out, "woah, no, no! i was just imaginging it, baby, fuck." he stood up, pulling you into his chest even though it was getting him all wet. "of course, i'd still love you."

you watched him through the mirror, arms crossed over your chest, completely unconvinced by his confession. naturally, he started leaving kisses along your shoulders and neck, making sure to not leave a single spot unkissed. "i'd choose you every time, over and over." he quietly says, those blue eyes boring into yours and you’re really not sure how it happened. it just..kind of did.

10:19 p.m.

"you're so goddamn tight, fuck," rafe grunted as he thrusted his cock inside of you, pounding into your tight cunt over and over. "p-please! h-harder.." your voice was high and breathless, head resting against the cool sink, holding onto the edges tightly. rafe could hardly believe how much you were clenching around him.

“rafe! rafey!” you whined, hoping your voice didn’t carry despite how loud you were being. your head rested against the damp sink, fingers curled around the sink as rafe pounded into your cunt, snapping his hips relentlessly. “my needy girl..”

“y-your girl..” you repeated with misty eyes as rafe’s thick cock slowly brought you closer and closer to that fuzzy place. “come on, doll. cum for me, sweetheart..” rafe fucked you until you creamed all over his cock, legs trembling and barely conscious.

He’s pretty sure you can hear his heart pounding against his chest, his face burns, and he wants to melt into the mattress, his affection for you overflowing. “Yeah, no problem, you know you can stay as long as you like.”

You hum in response and place your hand on his chest, right over his heart.

“How about this movie? I’ve heard it’s good.” He suggests, trying to calm his frantic heartbeat.

“Whatever you think is best, I trust you.” You say sleepily, curling further into him.

I trust you. Is he dead? Is this heaven?

He clicks the movie and settles in, pulling a blanket up from the end of the bed and draping it over the both of you.

You and Miguel chat back and forth for a while pointing out inaccuracies in the movies, laughing at the jokes, cringing at the cheesy acting then fall silent, absorbed in the movie playing on the screen mounted to the wall.

Miguel gently trails his fingers up and down your back, the TV casting a soft glow across the floor, rain tapping against the window, the fuzzy blanket arranged haphazardly, your head still resting on his chest, flooding his senses with the scent of your perfume.

“As if you could splice DNA that quickly.” He snorts, eyes still locked on the screen.

When you don’t respond, he glances down. Your eyes are closed, your face half-buried in his sweatshirt, your fingers gently curled around the fabric keeping hold of him, your breathing soft and even.

Miguel smiles, warmth flooding through him, his heart skipping a beat as he takes in the sight. He never thought he would be here, with you, the pretty popular girl from his lab, the one every guy wanted, every guy fantasied about. But here you are, in his room, wearing his t-shirt, curled up and sound asleep on his chest.

How did he get this lucky? You could have anyone you wanted, he’s seen the way guys on campus look at you, but you never seem to notice. You say it’s because you’re always looking at him, and maybe you’re right. It’s intoxicating, the way you look at him. All pretty and perfect, looking up at him through your lashes, a smile toying at your lips. Or when you’re concerned, the emotion brimming in your eyes, the way you latch onto him, cling to him.

He bites the inside of his cheek as images from earlier make their way center stage. The feeling of your nails digging into his skin, the warmth of your walls desperately trying to coax him deeper, the hunger in your eyes as they met his. Of course, you’re tired, he did everything he could to pull climax after climax from you until you begged him to stop.

He pushes the memories away, wanting to soak in this peaceful moment. The sound of your breathing, the way you sigh softly and bury more of your face in his chest.

You’re so beautiful, so perfect, he wants to freeze time, wants to never let you go, wants to live in this moment forever.

An explosion lights up the TV screen, the sound rousing you from your slumber, and you lift your head blinking at him blearily. “What’s going on?”

He brushes his lips across your forehead, already missing the comforting weight of your body resting on his. “It’s just the movie, I can turn it down.”

“Oh no, the movie, Miguel, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You tell him, smoothing your hair down with your fingers, now wide awake.

Miguel shakes his head, his voice dipping low. “Don’t worry about it, you obviously needed the sleep.” A catlike smile spread across his face at your flustered expression.

You smack his shoulder playfully. “Perv.”

“You like it.” He teases, slipping his hands under your bare thighs and pulling you closer.

You yelp at the sudden movement, but soon relax into him, tracing his facial features with the tip of your finger. “I guess I do.”

He marvels at you, at the beauty of you. Even with smudged makeup, and your hair a bit tangled, you’re still breathtaking.

“What?” You ask, smiling down at him, radiant as the sun.

“You’re just so…beautiful.”

“Miguel.” You drag out his name, smiling embarrassedly, turning your face from his.

“Y/N.” He mimics, turning your face back towards his, and kissing you.

You melt into him, like you always do, as if he’s the only one who knows how to kiss you, the only one who should ever kiss you.

“You’re really handsome, you know? Insanely so.” You say between kisses, wanting to return his compliment, unable to just accept his praise.

“Oh really?” He asks. He can feel himself blushing, so he presses his lips to the corner of your lips.

You nod the best you can, eyes fluttering shut when Miguel’s lips drift lower, tilting your head instinctually, allowing him more access to your already marked skin. “Yeah, it’s not fair.”

“Dulzura, dulzura, dulzura, have you not heard the saying all is fair in love and war?” He presses the words into your skin, preening at the sight of his earlier marks. Later you’ll chide him for leaving such obvious hickeys, but right now he knows you don’t care.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just kiss me.” You say, cupping his cheek and bringing his lips back to yours.

He does so happily, humming against you, endorphins and dopamine blooming, traveling across his synapses with unparalleled speed. “As you wish.”

• This is the last time (it’ not) ** you "hate" one another, but someone you always end up in his bed come the weekend

• That’s usually how public works pillow talk with Ben isn't exactly a new concept, but this kind of topic certainly is

• Making a scene ** formal goes about as well as one would expect (you get fucked in the bathroom)

• Frat!Ben Headcanons (meeting thru graduation)

Rafe checks his watch and its 11:30 at night, its almost time for the game. He strolls down the street passing the wreck, with fellow classmates walking around them too waiting for the game. Most of them with energy drinks and coffee, anything to get through the impending game. Ahead of him, theres a bookstore lit up, the warm glow shining onto the cold, wet pavement and inviting passesby into its warmth. As he nears, its empty unlike the surrounding cafe’s and restaurants. He spares it a single glace before moving on. His feet slow until they’re glued to the cement sidewalk. Someone bumps into him from beind, their smaller stature barely knocking him forward, but it does manage to jolt him out of the weird trance he fell into. Rafe turns to glare at the enraged guy behind him, their mouth opening and gearing up to cuss him out, yet the second he get one look, realising who he bumped into he takes off into a half-walk. Rafe would have laughed if he weren’t so distracted. Before stands his old childhood friend, y/n y/l/n. Her eyes draw him in, her doe eyes display her innocence. Her lips are pouty and pink, stretched into a radiant smile with straight white teeth. Something about her captivates him. It feels like a hurricane is at his back, pushing him towards her and leaving no room for resistance. His feet are carrying him into the bookstore, his boots soaking the welcome mat at the entrance. Rafe had wandered in almost absentmindedly, the scent of aged paper and leather bindings invoking a sense of nostalgia. It was there, amid the bookshelves filled with tales of adventure and romance, that he spotted her.

Y/N stood near the poetry section, engrossed in the pages of a worn-out book. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a profile that Rafe remembered well from their childhood. She looked different, more mature, but the spark in her eyes was unmistakable.

Not wanting to startle her, Rafe kept his distance, pretending to browse a nearby shelf. As he idly flipped through a book, he overheard her conversation with a friend, Cleo. Cleo was animatedly discussing the upcoming annual hide and seek game, a topic that had been buzzing throughout the town.

"Ugh, I wish Pope could play with me," Cleo lamented to Y/N. "But you know the rules, pledges can't chase other pledges."

Y/N nodded in agreement, her expression thoughtful. "Yeah, it's a bummer.."

Just as they were talking, Cleo's phone chimed with a text notification. She pulled it out and read the message, her eyes widening with surprise.

"You won't believe this," she exclaimed. "JJ Maybank, you know, from Delta Chi? The hot blonde?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "What about him?"

Cleo leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Rumor has it he wants to chase you in the hide and seek game. Like, he's dead set on it."

Rafe's heart clenched at the mention of JJ's name. He knew JJ well, Maybank was a scholarship kid, good at baseball, even better at surfing and he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the idea of someone else pursuing Y/N. Unconsciously, he tightened his grip on the book he was holding, causing the pages to crinkle. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "JJ? Why would he want to chase me? We barely know each other."

Cleo shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Who knows? Maybe he just has a crush on you. But it's gonna be interesting, that's for sure."

As Rafe listened to the conversation unfold, his jealousy and possessiveness grew. He couldn't bear the thought of someone else catching Y/N in the game, especially someone like JJ, who had a reputation for being a daredevil. He kicks off the wall as he watches her, furious of what hes over hearing but absolutely enthralled with her innocence. Something inexplicably dark arises in his chest, the fact that someone like JJ Maybank noticed a little flower like her builds. Its black and evil with need of corrupting her, so much that a trouble maker such as JJ would refuse to touch her. All he wants to do is break her. Shatter her into pieces. And then arrange those pieces to fit it against his own. He doesnt care if they dont fit - he’ll fucking make them. She was his first, and no one, especially a pogue like Maybank can have her. This new rivalry between him and maybank just brought something new in Rafe, and he knows he’s going to cross lines that he’ll never be able to come back from, but there not an ounce of him that gives a fuck. He feels the need to prove this to the dirty pogue, he will gladly cross every single line if it means making this girl his. If it means forcing her to be his then so be it. Rafe’s mind has already been made up, the decision fortifying like granate in his brain. At that moment, y/ns wandering eyes slide onto his, clashing with a force that nearly sends his knees to the ground. Her eyes round in the corners ever-so-slightly, as if she’s just as enraptured by him as he is by her. He knows that he needs to leave, leave before he does something stupid like kidnap her infront of her best friend. No matter. She won’t be able to escape him now. He just reunited with his little mouse, and he won’t stop until he’s trapped her like he did when they were kids.

With newfound determination, Rafe left the bookshop, his mind set on the upcoming game.

He had heard the whispers and rumors, and he was ready to make his move.

It was a coveted event, not only for the exhilarating chase but for the prestige it carried. The winning pledge still standing at the end seniors would gain recognition and popularity of their peers and when they, too, ascended to their final year gain a special position in leadership.

Rafe Cameron had fond memories of his own game a couple years ago. He had relished every moment of it.

He still remembered the thrill of the chase, the laughter echoing through the woods, and the look of defeat and admiration on the face of the senior when the timer went off and he hadn’t been caught.

Now, years later, he stood with his friends on a makeshift stage, ready to hand over the mantle to the next generation. It was a ceremony of sorts, as the current seniors would announce who they had chosen to chase in front of the entire campus, setting the stage for the upcoming game.

As Rafe scanned the eager faces of the junior class, his eyes locked onto a familiar figure. It was his little mouse, Y/N Y/L/N a legacy pledge for Phi Mu who had caught his attention earlier. Isn't she lucky to be apart of his sister sorority. He spots his younger sister on the other side, staring at his best friend Topper with a smirk. He forgot Sarah started college this year, she's pledging too. Its pretty obvious that his younger sibling will get in, considering they're both legacies. His father was co-president of Beta Theta Pi, just like him, and won his few games of hide and go seek, just like him. Like father and son. Same with their mother, who on this very game met their father Ward Cameron, the hook up culture of this game was the same. and there you have it he was born. another full circle moment. Rafe smirks at his younger sister, as she nods acknowledging him. He had to be honest the only time he'd ever interacted with her was when he talked about this game. He told her the best places to hide, and who to have as your partner.

This year, he turns to his best friend Topper, her eyes follow his and she winks. So she chose the president, interesting. Rafes attention goes back onto Y/N. He focuses back on her doe eyes, the innocence in them: god he can’t wait to taint them. Memories of their childhood days playing hide and seek flashed before him, and a mischievous smile tugged at his lips. He always loved a chase, how things have come full circle again.

With a flourish, Frat President of Rafes frat Beta Theta Pi, Topper Thornton, stepped forward, the anticipation of the crowd palpable. "Ladies and gentlemen, we, brothers and sisters, have the privilege of passing on the legacy of our annual hide and seek game to the pledges of Beta Theta Pi, Phi Mu, Delta Chi and Sigma Gama Ro . It is a tradition we hold dear, one that not only signifies the passage of time but also celebrates the spirit of our school." Rafe just rolls his eyes, everyone knows it's a chance for members hook up, but sure it's for the spirit of their school.

The crowd listened intently, hanging on to his every word. Topper continued, "The choice of who we will chase is a decision we do not take lightly. It is not about seniority or popularity, but about the spirit of the game and the thrill of the chase." Kelce passes the mic to Rafe, whispers rippled through the audience. Thank fuck, the list of seniors choosing their prey is in alphabetical order by surname. Rafe would have killed JJ if he got to choose you first. The rumors of JJ Maybank wanting to chase her had stoked the flames of jealousy within him, and now he was determined to make her his prize. Displaying to everyone his usual impulsive, violent behavior.

However, because he is Cameron, he always gets what he wants, which is obviously her. And he will receive it as usual. They all wondered who Rafe would choose, especially since Sophia, another junior, had been rumored to have caught his eye.

"Since I won last year, I need a good chase. Someone I know would be a worthy opponent," Rafe declared, his voice clear and unwavering, he locks eyes with y/n, her eyes widen when his gaze doesn’t waver and his declaration surprises everyone, especially her "I choose Y/N."

Gasps of surprise and murmurs of confusion filled the air. Sophia, who had expected to be chosen, looked taken aback, her friends sharing her disbelief.

Rafe descended from the stage and approached Y/N with a grin. He extended his hand, and she took it, a mix of curiosity and excitement in her eyes. "Little mouse," he said giving her his old nickname making her blush, his voice low, "I choose you."

Y/N frozen, not used to all the attention. "Are-are you sure?."

Rafe chuckled, his eyes holding a spark of mischief. "Of course, it will be just like old times."

As the stage was cleared and the announcement made, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. The two miss the look of a disappointed blonde in the far back, “You’ll get your chance buddy”  John B gives his best friend a comforting slap on the back. And JJ just shakes his head watching Y/N and Rafe, jealousy fills his stomach watching you laugh at something he said. There is now open competition between the two blondes. Rafe steps towards Y/N with a confident smirk, he couldn't resist teasing her, his voice laced with nostalgia, "I hope you're ready to be caught."

Y/N rolled her eyes, a familiar response to Rafe's playful taunts. "Oh, Rafe, you're still as cocky as ever. You might catch me, but you'll have to work for it."

Rafe leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, as he proposed a bet. "How about this, Y/N? If I catch you, I win a prize."

Y/N dramatically huffed, but a mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes. "And hypothetically, if I get away? What do I get?"

He took a step closer, their faces inches apart. "Let's say... 500 bucks? Does that sound good to you?"

Y/N nodded, her smile playful. "Deal."

With a smirk, Rafe walked off, leaving Y/N with a parting shot. "Wait, you didn't tell me what you would get if you win."

He winked at her, leaving it a mystery, and she couldn't help but wonder what Rafe had in store for her. Topper sets off some fireworks. The annual hide and seek game had officially begun.

The game unfolded with all the intensity and excitement befitting a high school tradition. Students scattered across the sprawling woods behind their school, finding creative hiding spots and using the darkness to their advantage.

The seniors gave their pledges a good head start, allowing them to hide while they counted. Rafe couldn't help but think about Y/N as he stood there, ready to begin the chase.

As they set off into the woods, Rafe couldn't help but be impressed by Y/N's skills. She was elusive, darting from tree to tree and blending seamlessly with her surroundings. Rafe and his friends split up, each taking a different direction to maximize their chances of catching their pledge.

Hours passed, and the woods echoed with laughter and whispers as students plotted their strategies. Rafe had been in pursuit of several pledges, but Y/N continued to elude him. It was as if she knew every secret hiding spot, every hidden nook and cranny. He moved through the darkness like a predator, his senses heightened, every sound and rustle of leaves underfoot amplified. Rafe had only one goal in mind: to find Y/N. The seconds ticked by as Rafe hunted for her, his heart pounding with anticipation. He knew Y/N was a worthy opponent, clever and elusive, but he was equally determined to outsmart her.

As he prowled through the woods, Rafe's eyes darted from shadow to shadow, his senses on high alert. He couldn't shake the image of Y/N from his mind, and it fueled his determination. He was like a hunter closing in on his prey.

Minutes turned into an eternity as he searched, his footsteps silent, and his breath held in anticipation. It was as if the world had fallen away, leaving only him and the pursuit.

And then, in the distance, he saw a flicker of movement. It was subtle, but it was enough to draw him closer. Rafe moved with a predatory grace, his steps calculated and stealthy. He couldn't afford to let Y/N slip away now.

Rafe approached her slowly, trying not to alert her to his presence. He couldn't help but be impressed by her dedication to the game. In the darkness, her silhouette was captivating, and he found himself mesmerized.

Y/N found herself behind a tall guy from the party, her heart pounding with the thrill of the chase. He approached her slowly, a wicked smile playing on his lips. Rafe relished the moment, savoring the thrill of the chase. As he approached the tall guy, he locked eyes with Y/N and mouthed, "Come out." His intense gaze intimidated both Y/N and the guy, and reluctantly, she emerged from her hiding spot. This was his opportunity to claim her as his prize, to make her his.

With a sudden, swift movement, Rafe lunged forward and tagged Y/N. He felt a rush of triumph as he declared, "Gotcha."

Y/N gasped, her eyes wide with surprise as Rafe's hands touched her. She knew she had been caught, and she couldn't help but feel a shiver of excitement. But Rafe's next words sent a thrill down her spine. Y/N couldn't help but laugh as Rafe lifted her off the ground and spun her around, just like he used to when they were kids. "You win, Rafe."

"Darling," he whispered, his voice low and possessive, "you're my prize."

She looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. The darkness seemed to close in around them, and the tension between them was electric. Rafe's eyes bore into hers, and in that moment, she realized that she was at his mercy.

As Rafe pulled her close, their bodies pressed together in the darkness, they both knew that this game had taken on a whole new dimension.

Rafe and Y/N stood close, their breaths coming fast and shallow.

The thrill of the game still pulsed through their veins, but now it was overshadowed by a different kind of tension, one that crackled with desire.

Rafe's eyes bore into Y/N's, his gaze filled with an intensity that left her breathless.

The air between them seemed charged with electricity, and she couldn't deny the attraction that had always lingered beneath the surface.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Rafe leaned in, closing the distance between them.

His lips brushed against Y/N's in a gentle, tentative kiss. It was a soft, lingering touch, as if he was savoring the moment, savoring her.

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers finding their way to the nape of Rafe's neck, her hands tangling in his hair.

Their kiss deepened, their mouths moving together in a dance of longing and need. It was a kiss that spoke of years of pent-up desire, of a connection that had been waiting to ignite.

Rafe's hands slipped around Y/N's waist, pulling her closer, and she melted into his embrace.

The world around them faded away, and all that mattered was the taste of each other's lips, the feel of each other's bodies pressed together.

As they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested against each other's, their breaths mingling in the cool night air.

Rafe's voice was low and husky as he whispered, "Y/N."

Y/N smiled, her heart full of emotion. "Rafe."

In that moment, surrounded by the darkness and the secrets of the night, they knew that this was just the beginning of something incredible.

It wasn't just about winning or losing; it was about the undeniable connection between them, the sparks of attraction that had been smoldering since their childhood.

In the darkness of the woods, Rafe claimed Y/N as his own, and she couldn't deny the magnetic pull between them. The game of hide and seek had brought them together in the most unexpected way, and now, they were bound by a desire that burned hotter than the darkest night.

You look so pretty, your hair tied up, a few strands falling perfectly, framing your face, the sun on your skin, the flowers blooming on the trees and bushes behind you.

You give him a shy smile, looking up at him through your mascara adorned lashes. “You’re so sweet.”

It’s his turn to be shy, and he ducks his head. “It’s easy to be sweet to you, you deserve it.”

You smack his arm playfully, full on beaming at him now. “Shut up, I adore you.”

I love you. The words sit on the tip of his tongue, poised, ready for action, but he chokes them down. “Now who’s being too sweet?”

You giggle, and it’s like music, like bells, like everything he’s ever wanted to hear. He loves to hear you laugh.

Miguel wants to kiss you, but he knows once he starts, he won’t be able to stop, and you both have classes to get to.

“Yeah, yeah, but anyways, so Dr. Wrinkler is like young man she is the very reason we’re reading this book. And dumbass just says I thought we were reading Hamlet because of Hamlet. Literally starts arguing with the professor! And I’m just sitting there dumbfounded, but also happy because I didn’t actually read the chapter before class, so I don’t mind him wasting class time.” You admit, giving Miguel an impish smile.

“My girlfriend, the ever-diligent student, is secretly a rule breaker, who would’ve known?” He jokes, glancing over at you when you stop dead in your tracks. “What’s wrong?”

You smile and go up on your toes, pressing your lips against his cheek. “I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you call me your girlfriend before; I like it.”

His cheeks warm and he ducks his head. “I…I like it too.”

You coo at him and smother his face with quick kisses, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down to your height, angling your lips against his in a way that feels both romantic and wildly inappropriate. His head spins and he can’t stop a whimper from escaping when your nails graze against the nape of his neck, and your tongue traces the seam of his lips.

You smile against him, tangling your hands in his hair, manicured nails massaging his scalp, his glasses digging into the bridge of his nose a bit. He doesn’t care, you could devour him, break him into tiny pieces, melt him down, mold him into something new, whatever you want as long as you keep kissing him.

His hands go to your waist, pulling you closer, instinct taking over as he explores every inch of your mouth, the tip of his tongue running across yours, his grip tightening when he feels your breathing speed up.

You break away, breathing harshly, leaning into him like your knees are weak. “You’re um—you’re really good at that.”

“Only with you, mi dulce.” He says, and it’s not a lie, it’s the truest thing he knows. He likes kissing you, it comes naturally, everything he does you like and vice versa, there’s no wrong moves with you. “You inspire greatness in me.”

“Who knew you had such a silver tongue?” You tease, looking up at him with your pupils blown wide, your hands trailing lower, caressing his broad back.

Maybe he could convince you to skip class?

“If you would let me, I could show you more of it.” The words are honeyed, far smoother than he thought they would be, and Miguel holds his breath as he waits for your response.

Your breath catches in your throat and blink at him, stunned, flustered, lips parted in shock, or maybe anticipation? It’s an intoxicating expression, one that fuels him, fills him with courage.

“Déjame mostrarte cómo me has inspirado, mi musa, déjame arrodillarme ante ti, pintarte, tocarte, adorarte.” He whispers, drunk on your reaction, on the feeling of all your attention focused solely on him. Trsl: Let me show you how you have inspired me, my muse, let me kneel before you, paint you, touch you, worship you.

“Oh…” You breathe out, as you tilt your head subconsciously, your eyes flickering down to his lips.

He doesn’t need any other instruction, and he closes the distance, humming at the way you melt into him. He could do this forever, just you and him in the quiet of the day, sheltered by the shadow of the trees.

A sharp wolf whistle breaks you two apart.

“Damn, y/n, is that Honor Council approved?” Kelsy, one of your sisters’ calls, making you turn on your heel.

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me, Ms. Honor Council Chairman?” You call back, rolling your eyes playfully.

“It’s not, but we’re going to be late for class, so I’ll excuse it.” Kelsy says, linking her arm with yours and pulling you towards the direction of your class, casting a sympathetic look over her shoulder towards Miguel. “Sorry lover boy, gotta steal your girl, good grades and all that.”

He just nods, feeling back in that daze from before. It’s only the sight of you blowing him a kiss that breaks the trance, and he forces himself to head to his own class, the feeling of your lips on his still lingering.

I KNOW THIS ONE IS SHORT BUT I'M TRAINING THE NEW GIRL AT WORK SO I'VE HAD ZERO TIME TO WRITE + EDIT, SO THIS IS ALL I'VE GOT TILL SHE CAN STAND ON HER OWN SO SORRYYYY

Your stomach rumbles and a wave of fatigue washes over you as you lift your head to look at him. “Got dragged to the bar last night.”

He’s wearing a soft looking, long sleeve dark blue shirt, the sleeves pushed up exposing his forearms, his glasses flecked with raindrops, his hair is tousled and slightly damp curling slightly at the ends.

“On a Thursday night?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing as he unpacks the lab equipment.

“It’s the night everyone goes out, I don’t know why, and I hate it.” You whine, massaging your temples.

Miguel’s large warm hand presses against your forehead, and you startle for a moment, causing him to jolt back, stuttering apologies.

“I—I just wanted to make sure you weren’t sick.” He says, a light dusting of pink across his tanned cheekbones.

He’s got great cheekbones, really, he’s got great everything. Maybe it’s just the hangover talking, but you really want to kiss him. Well, you’ve wanted to kiss him since he sat next to you on the first day of class. And when he slid his notes over to you the month after when he saw you struggling to keep up with the professor’s supersonic lecturing speed.

“I mean, a hangover is a kind of sickness, I’m pretty sure.” You say, your own face burning, but you can’t tell if it from his touch or the hangover.

“Don’t they say to drink something for a hangover? A Bloody Mary or a mimosa? I heard the café off campus sells them until noon.” He suggests, nerves coloring his tone.

Is he trying to ask you out? No, he can’t be. He’s Miguel, the genius, shy and sweet, and definitely not interested in you, and your hectic, dramatic life with sisters you both love and hate depending on what week it is.

“Can’t drink in letters.” You tell him, fumbling for your water bottle and taking a long drink, your eyes fluttering closed as the cool water soothes your sore throat.

“Really?” He asks, and his eyes are on you when you open yours, lingering on your lips, then darting away.

“Yep, it’s like the number one rule for all sororities all across the U.S. movies always get it wrong, really pisses me off.” You grumble, putting your water bottle back in your bag and trying to muster the energy to focus on the assignment in front of you.

“Interesting.” Miguel says, taking his glasses off and cleaning them with the hem of his shirt.

Like an absolute pervert, your eyes shoot down to the exposed sliver of skin. Tanned and toned, you swallow hard as you rip your eyes away.

“Yep, Hollywood, they always try to make us look like drunk sluts. And look, I may be drunk occasionally, but I’m not a slut.”

Miguel’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “I would never call you that—never think you were one, ever.”

You smile and pat his shoulder. “I know, Miguel, you’re too sweet for that.” You can’t help but let your hand drag down to his bicep, his stupidly firm bicep. “My sweet boy.”

His glasses clatter onto the lab table and Miguel scrambles to pick them up, slipping them back on. “Did you get to finish your assignment yet?”

You screw your eyes closed, swearing under your breath. “That’s what I forgot.”

“It’s due tomorrow.” He reminds you.

You nod and press the back of your hand to your forehead, willing your headache to recede. “Yes, yes, I know, I just shit, I totally forgot, and I’ve been so busy, we have this major philanthropy event coming up, and I’ve been up till two am all week helping paint the banner and I really don’t get anything we’re doing in here.”

You pause, sniffling, your eyes welling with tears, as you bite the inside of your cheek trying to keep from crying in the back of the lab.

“I could help you?” Miguel offers tentatively, fidgeting with his pen, his eyes darting between you and the table.

“Really? Miguel, that would be amazing.” You say, unable to resist the urge to lean over and wrap your arms around him.

He smells good, like expensive cologne, and old books.

You take a moment longer than necessary to pull back, basking in his warmth, in the way his strong arms wrap loosely around you before he gains the courage and crushes you to his chest.

“It’s no problem, why don’t we meet in the library around four? It looks like you’re almost done with it, so we shouldn’t be there for too long.” His voice low, calm, and warm vibrates in his chest, and you relax into his hold before pulling back and nodding.

“That would be perfect, thank you.” You beam at him, headache receding, the knot in your stomach unraveling, there’s something about him that’s so comforting, makes you feel safe.

He nods and focuses in on the PowerPoint the professor is going over. He looks so handsome, warm brown eyes flickering over the typed words, his broad shoulders still half turned towards you, his full lips parted ever so slightly as he mumbles to himself.

You rest your chin in your hand and watch him out of the corner of your eye, unable to keep from daydreaming about what it might be like to be his.

Miguel is going places, you know it. And you? You’ve always thought it might be fun to be a trophy wife, maybe Miguel needed a trophy wife?

You can see it now, standing next to him in a gorgeous red dress, your hand around his bicep as he accepts some award for genetics. You can almost feel his lips against yours as he thanks you for your support and dips you old movie style.

“Y/N I’ll see you at four, yeah?” Miguel’s voice pulls you from your daydreams. Class is over, you’ve taken zero notes, and he definitely caught you zoning out.

You nod, and quickly gather your things. “Yeah, yeah four, I’ll meet you there!”

(Also ummm I was in a sorority my entire time at college, so I am actually the expert and Hollywood gets everything soooo wrong it makes me legit angry😭)