#i’m going to try and grind the final two chapters over the next week or so and hopefully have the first draft done soon

[cynicalmusings]

can’t wait to get down this wormhole for that eventual chiori fic!

[webslingingslasher]

banner made by: @thursdaygxrls

because of the character count (145,091) and tumblrs format skills (it's shit) i had to adjust some sizing but i wanted all of this in one part.

CHAPTER ONE: BRUJA

PETER PARKER’S FIRST WEEK.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6TH 

Steve Jobs is lucky he’s dead. 

Because if he wasn’t, he’d have to deal with a pissed off Peter Parker woken up with a brooding hangover by the screeches of marimba. 

Peter wasn’t sure whose idea it was to throw a goodbye summer bash the night before classes started but he wishes them death. A ‘goodbye summer' party, what a dumb fucking idea. It’s college, every day is summer. If he’s picked up anything from being with the frat for two years it’s that they’ll make up any excuse to party. 

International Women’s Day? Guys can only get in if they’re half naked. 

Valentine’s Day? Singles dress as cupid, couples in red and pink. 

Friday the 13th? Horror movie character costumes only. 

St. Patrick's Day? That’s what those guys lived for. 

It didn’t matter what it was, if there was cause for celebration and drinking, it was going to be a party. Trying to ease a headache he rubbed his temples, it did nothing and proved useless when someone banging a spoon and pot in the kitchen made his ears ring. 

“Chapter meeting! Chapter meeting! Chapter-” Peter yelled as loud as he could, “shut the fuck up!” His head throbbed.

God, he fucking hated the start of the year, all the new people coming in sucking up to him and everyone else in the frat. The secondary members used it to their advantage, most of the officers didn’t impress easily, only using them when they felt like laughing at someone desperately trying to please. 

He had to redo the entire budget, and had to run through the same health and safety meeting that would get ignored, and then he’d have to get physical when someone pushed the rules a little too far. 

Peter had a hangover from hell and almost gagged getting up from bed, shuffling towards his bedroom door in just sweatpants. Yawning and scratching at his scalp as he walked down the stairs, he made the routine walk to the meeting room door that was open, a hidden room behind a bookcase, only chapter officers allowed. 

The room was dark, a gigantic oak table took up the center of the room, black leather chairs surrounded. The frats name and logo grinded into the middle. A pool table in one corner, a bar in the back and several leather couches. Peter took his seat and nodded at his friend next to him, the chapter president paced the front of the room with notes, when the last guy entered the door was shut behind him. 

“Welcome to the hunt boys, we waited all year for this.” 

Trent Simpson, chapter president. Deep alumni, the fraternity in his family for generations. 

“Before we start the meeting, please state who you are and your role on the board. Obviously, I’m Trent Simpson, your president.”

“Matt Paul, chapter vice president.” 

“Nick Aaron, secretary.” 

“Ethan Keznek, sergeant-at-arms.” 

“Peter Parker, treasurer and health and safety officer.” 

“Tarrent Bakner, recruitment chairman.” 

“James Hasco, housing officer.” 

“Booker Thomas, membership development.” 

Trent clapped his hands and motioned to the black folder everyone had. “Welcome to the first meeting of our rushing season for Sigma Nu. In each of your folders you’ll see our potential new members, if you don’t see anyone you like, time to tell me is now.” 

Peter eyed the page, only one thing set him off. Ted and Harry Linus, twins. He hated twins, last year he had gotten put in the middle of so many fights he swore he’d never let twins back in his house. 

Peter’s hand jotted up, clicking his pen quickly. “Nix the twins.” Trent crossed out the names with a sharpie, “nixed.” 

“Next are the outline of our weeks with the rush, and hazing schedules. Parker, I want you and Keznek to print up the chapter handbooks.” Ethan held his fist up towards Peter, he tapped his knuckles on his and looked over the schedule. 

“Finally, and this is a new one. I acquired a friend that can get some hard to get info really easily, so what you see in front of you is every fraternity's event.” 

Interesting, that’s a pretty hard thing to get your hands on, let alone fifteen. Fraternity events were highly competitive, and if they had every event in their back pocket they could be number one. 

Peter fought back a yawn, he wanted nothing more than another two hours of sleep. But his day began here, in a chapter officer meeting, on a Tuesday, with a hangover and only time to prepare for class. God, he really didn’t want to go to class today. He can barely remember what he signed up for. 

“... again, that’ll be next Tuesday, and like usual, freshman welcome on Friday. Any more questions before we close?” 

Booker’s hand goes up, “what about the sororities?” 

“Great question, we’ll only be circling with Zeta and Omega.” 

Peter nods approvingly, that’s nice to hear. Last year they partnered with four sororities and even the party guys were getting a little overwhelmed. It sucked they had to use the frat houses for parties but they chipped in and bought way better alcohol, not to mention all the fucking girls, it was truly pick of the litter. 

Matt Paul shoots out, “can we please promise each other right now we won’t have another Sara situation?” 

There was a reason Peter had two positions, Logan Leeman freaked out when Sara Niks dumped him. Actually went full blown nuts and had to be carted off in an ambulance, no one’s heard from him since. 

“God that was awful, I mean, he knew the chick for what, four months?” 

Peter nodded absentmindedly at Nick’s comment, disconnecting from the conversation and running numbers through his head. His attention was brought back when Trent smacked his gavel on the soundblock. 

“We’re back baby, and it’s open fucking season. One, two, three,” 

The brotherhood chanted, “Sig Nu!” 

—------------

Peter’s rinsing shampoo out of his hair when someone bangs on his bathroom door, he calls out over the rushing water, “yeah?” 

“Hey, some of the guys and I are gonna hit up the food hall before we gotta split, you down?” 

He can’t lie, the dining hall is damn good. He’s missed the breakfast burritos, and Linda. She’s been working in the kitchen at the university for over twenty years, he got to talking to her one day and now goes out of his way to give her a hello. He can’t wait to catch up and tell her all about his summer, and fuck, he’d kill for an orange juice. Oh god, he has to do so much grocery shopping. 

“Yeah, give me ten minutes!” As if on command his stomach growls, he’s reminded of his hangover and he has physics in two hours. At least the shower’s warm. It’s his saving grace. 

University has been good on Peter, he looks like he belongs; top dog on campus feels good. He fills out his frat tee better this year, spidey working double time this summer to make up for the slow six months he’s about to have. Heather gray and red detailing, his pants black, and a signature white snapback. He should’ve gotten a haircut, but he chose to drink like an idiot. The night was fun though, it was worth it in the moment. 

Taking a final glance, Peter tucks the chain around his neck into his shirt, and takes a deep breath before his first day of his junior year starts. 

He’s ready.

—----------------

“Did anyone see Trevor slam his head against the wall last night or was that just me?” 

“You mean Lopes?” Peter really wishes he was around to see that. 

Hasco is on level ten, Peter’s convinced he’s off a bump or two of coke, he’s just a tad too twitchy for his liking. “Bro, he just bounced that fucker off the wall. Stared at me and did it. No fucking reason. He’s fucking crazy.” 

Peter snorts, “why, was he off the powder?” He bites down on his bottom lip when his friends toss him around by his shoulders giving soft ‘oo’s’ at his jab. Hasco flips him the bird, “even if he was, that’s fucked up, right?” 

Keznek follows up, “you think he’d do it again if i asked?” 

Nick pipes up, “ten down on yes,” Tarrent raises a finger, “coked up or sober?” 

“Does it matter?” 

Tarrent nods, “fair enough.” 

Peter cuts through the bullshit, “can we please talk about Simpson and the fucking list this year? Thirty two people is such bullshit, at this point it’s just a dick measuring contest with Alpha Delta.” 

Hasco sniffs as he nods his head, “yeah, not to mention all the fucking shuffling. Too many people for no reason, especially because we’re cutting twelve almost immediately.” Nick scoffs, “you’re telling me, I have to keep track of every motherfucker going in and out.” 

Peter’s best friend lets out a refreshing sigh, “I got the best job, I just make sure Tarrent does his job.” Hasco barks back, “shut the fuck up, Keznek.” 

“If I may, I have the worst out of all of you combined. I have to keep track of every fucking receipt, everyone’s dues, every god damn bill. Then I get to sit around and try to teach consent to a bunch of brain dead eighteen year olds.” 

“And safety! Don’t forget all the fights you had to break up last year.” 

It’s just so fucking tiring sometimes, but he’s the reason he and the entire frat have a place to sleep. “Thanks for the reminder, Nick.” Nick claps his shoulder, “anytime, bud.” Tarrent starts humming, “I’m getting so much food, you have no idea.” 

“I’m doubling down on burritos.” 

Ethan sucks in a breath, “me too.” 

Tarrent opens the doors to the dining hall and voices explode, overlapping chatter from every corner. It pierced through his ears and stabbed at his headache, Hasco sniffs and nods his head impressively, “fuck yeah,” bumping Peter’s shoulder when he walked in. 

“Jesus fucking christ.”

 Ethan holds back a chuckle at Peter’s audible mumble, choosing to mock Hasco instead, nodding at Peter walking by, “fuck yeah, man.” 

Peter nods towards Paul, sitting at a table with his girlfriend and who he assumes are her friends, he doesn’t care enough to actually look. Paul barely gives him a wave between inhaling his burrito, he’s gotten three, meaning he has to do an impressive four, unless Tarrents goes for four, then he’s maxing out at five. 

Things you learn in a frat, it’s the little things that mean the most dominance wise. 

He hangs at the back of the line so he can catch up with his favorite lunch lady on campus, until the closer he gets he can’t see her. Moving his head back and forth but coming up short he assumes she’s in the kitchen. She usually worked the register in the morning and afternoon, but he supposes new year, a new schedule.

Peter slides through the line with six breakfast burritos and a fruit cup, because it’s all about balance. Giving that deathly smile to his second favorite lunch lady, “hey, Mrs. Zoe. How was your summer?” 

Sweat dots her forehead, “hot and long, how about yours, honey?” He can’t complain much, he actually took it slow. “Pretty good, hey, um, is Linda around?” Peter doesn’t know what it is but he knows it’s bad by the way Zoe’s face drops, she looked younger than she was, until she was full frowning, then she looked every bit of sixty. 

“You didn’t hear?” Peter’s scared to say no but still shakes his head. 

“Oh, shit. She dropped a pot on her foot just the right way and shattered the whole thing. She ran out of time off and was let go.” 

Peter feels everything in him shake with rage. 

Linda took care of him for the past two years of his life, and worked harder than he ever has in his entire life. She dedicated decades of her life to this place, an institution built on community, until one got hurt. Linda made sure that even if he was away from home, he was still fed with love. She talked to him, they formed a bond, he asked about her granddaughter all the time, her husband was sick, she was supporting the house, now what? 

“They fired her?” He’s full of pain and anger but his voice comes out timid. 

Mrs. Zoe nods her head solemnly, Peter looks at his tray, he’s not so hungry anymore knowing Linda didn’t make a thing on it. Suddenly six burritos seem daunting. 

“Is she okay?” That’s all that mattered. He had to fix this, he wasn’t sure how yet but it’s his personal mission to get her back where she belonged. 

“She’s still healing up but I guess the university gave her a nice severance package, so she’ll be okay for a while.” 

The line’s starting to back up, “do you think I could get her number? I’ll come back for lunch and get it, if you think that’s okay.” 

A beaming smile, she looks young again, her eyes crinkle and it shows her joy. “I think she’d love that. I’ll get it for you.” Even if he’s mad, he gives her a polite smile, “thanks, Mrs. Zoe.” 

Peter’s heart races as he walks away, the situation swirling in his mind, how fucked it all was. He doesn’t care if they gave her a severance package, she got hurt at work. They should’ve held her job, they should’ve given her a break for the first time in over twenty years. 

How could he fix this? Maybe he could get the frat to do a petition, if they sign it then most of the school would get on board. Or shit, what if they go on protest? Do they sit in strike until they give in to the demand? What if he gets- 

“So sorry!” 

Peter stopped himself from stumbling any further, caught off guard and in the midst of a breakdown he took it out on the assaulter. He doesn’t care if it was an accident, he’s not hard to miss, they just weren’t looking, or paying attention. 

And he can see why, big doe eyes blinking at him. Like they’ve never seen an adult man, as if his presence alone was enough to send them into fight or flight. There’s one reason and one reason only, and it’s written all over their face. 

“Fucking freshman,” he hates them like no other, last year was enough to paint them in a negative light forever. They were babies, new to drinking, new to being on their own, new to parting. And the entitlement was off a new chart level, they thought they were the big dogs because they finally reached adulthood. 

The kind of entitlement that sent them running into people three times their size. 

The girl's face changed, she went from frightened to pissed in under three seconds. It almost impressed him, her eyes narrowed as she looked him directly in the eye. For a second he felt challenged, like someone he had to nearly look down on had equal footing against him. All from a freshman no less. 

Her words hit directly, she packed a punch behind them and meant each word as they spewed. 

“I hope you fucking choke.” 

Peter was left speechless, watching her stomp off, while slowly approaching the table his friends occupied. Hasco and Keznek bickering back and forth, which was pointless, Hasco always has to have the last word. 

“Explain this one to me,” he immediately caught attention. 

“Some freshman knocked into me, almost made me drop everything, then told me she hoped I’d choke. I mean, what the fuck?” 

Peter has to look away when Tarrent spews his idea, egg dropping from his mouth. 

“She wants to fuck you bro.” Sometimes his stupidity hurts, “what? It was a twenty second interaction and she told me to die.” 

“Yeah, that’s how it always starts.” 

The table goes quiet, Ethan’s the first to speak. “Tarrent, I think you should sit in on Parker’s health and safety course for a refresher.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

—------------------------

Peter thinks he’s a little too hungover and it’s a little too early for him to focus on mechanics and math, so he chooses to look over his syllabus and yawn. 

His year was littered with hard classes, approaching the end of his major and now everything counted. The pressure was on, he was prepared to make this his year. He was done with the little kid shit, it was time he got serious and put his future first.

 How boring of him, he was going to need Ethan to help bounce him back. 

Peter’s first and only class of the day was intro to quantum mechanics, having to sit through that much math and theory made his already pounding headache increase tenfold. Taking a harsh inhale he pulled out his phone for the brother’s group chat, hiding his phone in his lap while his new professor droned on.

‘Who’s fucking idea was this party? I’m dying rn.’ 

‘Blame Paul.’

‘that’d be pauly.’ 

‘Keznek emphasized ‘blame paul.’ 

‘blame me!’ 

‘Fuck you, paul.” 

Peter would be lying if it didn’t make him feel a little bit better. Still, blinking under the fluorescent lighting he wished he could wish his hangover away, he’s never felt this shitty in his life, he’s sure of it. He only had forty minutes left, all he had to do was make it through the lesson, buy his books and spend the rest of the day in bed hiding from every and all light and sound. 

It wouldn’t be a terrible year, his professor was the textbook definition of MILF. Blonde bob with streaks of gray, an hourglass figure and oval glasses. Her pantsuit hugged her curves and for a moment he thinks her husband is a lucky guy. 

Plus he was pocketed between the hottest chick on campus and some mega genius, so smart Peter was put to shame. It wouldn’t be a bad week either, after he got this girl's number and invited her over to a party. Peter politely sat through the lecture, going over the syllabus with his professor's powerpoint and writing down anything he deemed important. 

Then the hour was over and he deserved a treat. He worked hard, so now he can play hard.

Fighting through his looming hangover and using every ounce of charm, he turns his head and smiles at the girl. She had long, slick black hair and he wanted to wrap every bit of it around his fist. 

“Hey, I’m Parker.” 

She has a nice smile, and a nose ring, he wonders what else is pierced. 

“Hey, I’m Rose.” 

He’s not sure if it’s a nickname or her real name, it doesn’t matter to him, it suits her well. Peter can see a peek of a tattoo that blossomed from her chest. He wanted to unwrap her like a present and figure her out. 

“Nice to meet you, Rose. I just had to let you know I think I have the best seat partner in the whole room.” 

“I know, right? Teddy is hella smart.” Her grin tells him she knows what he meant by his comment. 

“You seem pretty smart too, maybe we should exchange numbers in case I need any help?” 

God, her smile is fucking raident. 

“Not sure my girlfriend would like that too much, Parker.” 

He exhales a breath, “oh you were waiting to say that.” 

Rose nods, “it’s always a fun bomb to drop. Nobody thinks I’m a lesbian until I say it, then I get the-” 

“I can see it.” 

Her hand raises, “point in case.” She’s still cool. And he has four months with her. 

“Let me try again. Hey, Rose, would you and your girlfriend like to come to our party on friday?” 

There’s that fucking smile. “We’d love to.” 

Peter nods his head, okay with the turn of events. “Alright, Rose, I’ll see you and…” 

“Lily,” she fills in for him. 

“Lily, how perfect. I’ll see both friday.”

Peter gathers his things and stands, his first try of the year was a swing and a miss, unless… 

“Hey, if you were straight would-” 

“My girlfriend will kill you, tread carefully, new friend.” 

Peter can’t wait to meet her, he already likes her. 

—-------------

Peter’s day just got longer or more miserable, because as he should’ve assumed, the bookstore line was wrapped around the building. If only he had given himself a head start, he could’ve done this days ago but there were other things in his personal life he had to wrap up first. 

Just so he could sit in line, under the sun, with a hangover, to buy hundreds of dollars worth of textbooks he’d never use again. 

Ray Bans rested on his nose, blocking the glare of the sun. He kept refreshing his twitter feed but was quickly bored, switching to instagram and endlessly scrolling. Liking a few pictures, his brother’s party posts, an old classmate’s ‘moving back in!’ post, a summer throwback bikini picture from a girl he’d hooked up with a few times the year prior.   

Jostling forward, Peter had to stabilize his stance. Caught off guard and his back ran into, he had to admit it just wasn’t his day. 

He scoffs as the assaulter mutters out apologies. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you and I’m sorry!” 

Turning sideways to look at the girl he gave a bitter laugh, “Jesus Christ, freshman. Want a tip? Look where you’re walking.” 

The girl in front of him looked pissed, “I said sorry, you don’t have to be so mean.” 

Peter pulled his head back and turned to face her full on. “You’re telling me about mean? You knocked into me twice and said you’d hope I fucking choke, if we’re tallying scores I’d think you’re the bully, sweetheart.” 

She huffs, “does the misogynistic shtik always work for you?” 

He holds his hand to his chest, “misogynistic, because I called you sweetheart? I’d say that’s irony, or sarcasm, because you’ve been anything but sweet.” 

“Well… maybe I’d be nicer if you were.” 

Peter’s having fun with this, she’s just shittalking him to do it, and he kinda respects that. His hands move as he speaks, emphasizing his point. “You hit me! Why do I have to be nice?” 

The girl rolls her eyes, crossing her arms in defense.  “I bumped you, I hope you’re majoring in acting because you could win an oscar for your dramatics.” 

His tongue pokes at his cheek, a cocky grin spreads. “Babe, I’m the best at what I do. You think I’d be here and not at Juilliard?” 

Peter won, she scoffs and opens her mouth before shutting it and spinning on her heel, turning her back on him.

“Realized you couldn’t win?” 

He turns back around, hiding a grin, fumbling for his phone in his back pocket. He opens up the ‘Captain Nu’ group chat and sends out a message. 

‘The entitlement from these freshmen gets worse every year.’ 

‘true dat. this freshie charles just got coffee all over me, i can’t wait to ruin his year.’ 

‘rip charles. never had a chance.’ 

‘@trent ally just said her friend is gonna do the ski trip after all.’ 

‘@paul, Ally’s got a friend? 👀’

‘@parker, lol, yea.’ 

‘paul is the world's worst wingman, lmaoooo.’ 

‘Of course he is, he met the girl he’s gonna marry at 16.’ 

‘@parker maybe u would too if you bothered to know their name after.’ 

‘@parker if anyone has dibs on ally’s friend it’s me. we’ve already been in talks. 🤔’ 

‘@trent, yo, tf? We’re gatekeeping now?’ 

‘@paul, invite her to the party friday. We’ll see who she wants, @trent’ 

‘🫡’ 

‘Hold on, Parker’s betting on a chick? I’m getting a lawn chair & a 12 pack rn.’ 

‘Good thing your name isn’t in the mix, isn’t it? @keznek’ 

‘ally said she’s coming, my money’s on trent, sorry parker.’ 

‘Hmmm, I dunno, Paul. Parker’s got that underdog in him.’ 

‘At least E believes in me.’

Glancing up, and noticing a gap in the line he moves up. Putting his phone back in his pocket he glances over his shoulder and peers at the girl with her gaze locked in on her phone screen. He’s learned several things while at the frat, one of the most important, you can never have too many options. 

She’d probably show up anyways, but if she was invited by him to his frat for their freshman welcome party, she’d definitely show up and if Trent wins, he’d have his bases covered. Clearing his throat and turning one eighty, Peter walked backwards to keep up in line, she followed with small steps. Smirking, he stopped quickly, her shoe toe hitting his own. 

She looked up quickly, “this one’s on me, sweetheart.” 

Her mouth opened, but he talked before she could. Before he could regret inviting her. Worst comes to worse, she’d be a good hate fuck. 

“Has anyone shown you frat row yet?” 

“I’m not-” she gives a frustrated sigh, “yes, I know where frat row is.” 

“Cool, so I’m Parker. I’m in Sigma Nu,” he gestures to the emblem on his corner pocket. “And on the first Friday of the school year we throw a freshman welcome party, you should come.” 

Peter can tell she’s trying to figure out his motive, it’s kind of cute, the way she's analyzing him. He immediately throws that idea from his head, he doesn’t find girls cute, he finds them attractive. Cute implies you want them to hang around and she’s nothing but infuriating.

“Uh huh. Sure.” Keeping watch of the line he backs up further, he’s three away from being saved from the sun.

“That’s a personal invite, babe.” 

She gasps, it smells of sarcasm. “My goodness, in that case I must show! How else will I know my worth when I watch you make out with another girl across the house?” 

That stumbles him a bit, not used to his game being called outright. Even if that was something that might happen, being told it would happen made him feel a little shitty. 

“That’s not at all what I-” 

Her hand stops him, “you have backup plan written all over your face, I think the summer made you lose some of that frat boy edge.” 

He just met this chick, after she threw herself into him twice, and now she’s telling him who he is? God damn, the entitlement is reeking from every orifice. 

“You-” 

“Line.”

He had to accept the loss and enter the store, but the second he saw her at his party, he’d throw in a few choice words. Remind the freshman who was on top. 

He was Peter Parker and he was the treasure and health and safety officer, and this was his fucking year. Hangovers and all.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH. 

Peter’s looking at a house across from him, it’s a faded yellow with maroon shutters. A plethora of flowers covered the base foundation, the grass was a little long, definitely a few weeks since the last cut. 

It looked like a home. 

He could picture a series of generations passing in and out the front door, it was a small house but the love he felt looking at it felt big. Peter felt just as much love for the woman inside the house, stepping over cracks in the concrete he knocked on the door and looked down at his feet while he ran lines through his head. 

A growing smile took over when the door cracked open, frizzy gray hair poked through. When Linda caught sight of him the door swung open, her arms went right around him, squeezing him with all her might. 

“Peter! Oh my goodness, I thought I wouldn’t see you again! I was going to send you a letter but you beat me to it!” Joy filled his heart, Peter wrapped his arms around her shoulders and laughed. “Mrs. Zoe helped me, I thought she’d call you. Guess not.” 

Linda gave him a parting squash before cupping his cheeks, “she knew I’d love the surprise.” She looks behind her, “wanna come in for some tea?” He took her up on the offer, he needed to let her know that he and the school needed her and he was willing to do whatever he could to get her back where she belonged. 

A blue oriental rug ran from the front door into the kitchen. Peter dropped his backpack by an entrance table and kicked his shoes off. While he looked around at the family pictures stretched across the walls he felt something rub against his legs, a scratchy meow followed. 

Peter looked down at an orange crusty cat, his heart melted. He wasted no time in picking them up and curling them to his chest, “is this Nelly?” Linda turned and smiled at her cat butting her head against Peter’s hand, “yes, she’s an attention grabber. Now you’ve held her, she'll expect it every visit.” 

As he followed Linda he looked deeper into the home, his stomach tugged when he looked into a bedroom off from the living room, an old man lying still in a hospital bed, three full IV bags hanging off a medical pole. 

The sun was coming through the kitchen window creating a sunspot, a sleeping chihuahua was soaking it up. 

“Teeny?” He already knew the answer.

 Linda bent down to pet the old dog, she mumbles while Teeny licks at her nose. “Yes, tú eres mi cariño, isn’t that right?” The cat in Peter’s hold pushed at his chest, a guttural meow while she looked at her food bowl. 

Setting her down, he looked back up to a young female standing by a cabinet, she seemed vaguely familiar. She looked a little flustered, and brushed down her shirt to prove it could fit better. 

“Hi.” Peter took a shot in the dark, “Hey, Kat. Nice braids.” 

Her face exploded in a smile, a faint blush crossed her cheeks. “You remember me?” 

“Yeah, I think we met my first year, you went…” 

“...to work with my grandma after I got in trouble that summer!” She finished for him. 

Linda moved around the small area, setting a bright red kettle on the stove. 

“You were what, fifteen?” Kat’s face went neutral, “I’m eighteen now, Peter.” Kat crossed her arms, subtly pushing her cleavage up. She’s pretty, but she’s too young for him, she can try to make it happen all she wants but he respects Linda too much. 

“Kathrine, go let Teeny out.” It seems like Linda doesn’t want it to happen either. 

“But-” Kat flinches when Linda points a wooden spoon at her, “you dare question me in my own home? Desagradecida!” Her granddaughter hangs her head and slowly passes Peter, going out of her way to brush against his shoulder, he lets her have it. 

The second the porch door slides shut Linda points the spoon at him, “not gonna happen, frat boy. Comprende?” Peter holds his hands up, “comprendido, comprendido!” A smile forms, crinkles by her eyes shows Peter she’s no real threat. 

“Green or herbal?” 

Peter glances at a pouty Kat in the backyard, it brings him back to his early teens. It makes him slightly chuckle, she’d be fine, the first rejection always hurts the most. 

“Green, please.” 

Peter’s been on a roll, spewing everything he thinks she needs to hear about his summer and upcoming school year. She’s nodding along and asking questions when an alarm starts beeping, she jumps from her seat and holds out an arm. “Be right back.” When she tucks herself into the bedroom her husband’s in, Peter feels a little sick. 

It’s the elephant in the room when she returns, she sits back in the teal chair across from him and tosses hair behind her shoulder. Linda’s hands wrap around her mug, steam billows when she blows on the rim. She gives him a knowing smirk, “you want to ask about Ronaldo, don’t you?” 

Peter feels shy, he does want to make sure she’s okay, but also knows it’s not something to really bring up. “Is he okay?” It’s a dumb question, he has to hold back on wincing when she shakes her head. “No. He’s comfortable for now, and he’s home. That’s all he ever wanted while he was in the hospital.” 

He swallows thickly, “is he in hospice?” Linda grabs his hand, “he is. It’s been hard, but we’ve made every decision together. He gave me and our family his best years, I think it’s time I take the brunt.” 

She wears a sad smile, but Peter can still see how strong she is underneath. Patting his hand she follows up like she knows where he’s going. 

“And I am very thankful I get to spend our last moments together by his side. I know it seems like bad luck, but that damn pot put me where I needed to be.” Peter’s smile is faulty, “so, you can’t be swayed into coming back?” 

“No, cariño. I can’t.” 

“But it feels so unfair! They should’ve given you something.” 

Linda clicks her tongue at him, “trust me, mi amor, I know what unfair is. And what happened was a grace of God. I get to watch my husband peacefully pass, and I get to spend the rest of my life watching my family grow. I can finally go see my great grandchildren in Mexico, my life is anything but unfair. ” 

If there’s anyone he wants the best for it’s Linda, and if she sees it as a blessing he could too. He takes a moment, “so, the severance package was good?” 

Linda scoffs, “if you call twenty five years pay at once good, then it’s good.” 

It was everything Peter needed to hear.

Peter finishes off his tea, “I’m still gonna miss you, Linda. No one can make a breakfast burrito like you. Or cut fruit! You should’ve seen the slices of cantaloupe, not one uniform cut!” 

A warm hand is cupped around his cheek, “you come by anytime for a meal. I know you’re local, but if you ever need a mom, a place to lay low, or an open door with no questions asked, you know where I am.” 

It brings tears to his eyes, he blinks fast, chuckling when a tear drops. Peter wipes at it with his sleeve, “I’m really, really, gonna miss you.” 

“You won’t miss me too much, you’ll be coming by every Wednesday for breakfast. Comprende?” 

Peter blows a sharp breath before laughing, “comprendido.” 

—--------------------

Spider-Man pats his tummy looking over the skyline. 

Linda made him a full cast iron of Huevos Rancheros, and when his eyes widened at the size she laughed and said, “What? You suddenly lost your appetite over the summer?” He had not, and ate the entire thing. 

Peter wishes he took up her offer to sleep on the couch while she watches reruns of ‘La Patrona.’ He politely declined, but tortillas and spicy eggs mixing in his stomach made him wish he was taking a nap.

He feels lead in his gut as he swings across the street, too sluggish to fight; he holds out a hand to stop a runaway bike thief. He went flying over the handlebars at an extreme speed, Spider-Man just watched and shrugged. 

An eight year old appeared, throwing his arms around Spider-Man and squeezing. Peter lets out a squeak, “alright, Spidey had a little too many eggs for breakfast-” the kid backs away and stares in amazement. 

“No way! I had eggs for breakfast too!” 

“Look at us, coupla egg eating guys.” 

The kid hugs him again, a panicked mother catches up. “Jacob! You can’t run away from me like-” Jacob bounces as he screams, “Mom! Mom! Spider-Man saved my bike! And, and, and guess what! He had eggs for breakfast too!” 

Sometimes the pure excitement of who he was made the shitty parts of his job manageable. 

“That’s awesome, honey! But you really can’t run away from mom like that.” 

Spider-Man crouches to Jacob’s height, and nods at his mom. “You know what I did when I was eight?” Jacob’s eyes grow wide, “no, what?!” 

“I listened to my mom. And I ate all my vegetables.” 

“Woah.” The child turns to his mom, she gives a knowing look to Spider-Man. “Mom! We have to go get broccoli!” She smiles at her son, “sure thing, buddy.” Holding his bike steady he takes mount, she mouths a thank you and Spider-Man waves her off. 

Jacob gives a parting salute, “bye, Spider-Man!” 

Peter feels like he’s going to puke when he takes flight, he thinks for a second, then starts heading east.

May doesn’t mind that he stopped by for a mid-morning nap. 

—---------------------------

After running through the budget four times, Peter’s positive he’s got the first two weeks handled.

Then, he’d have to rework the entire thing weekly until the final placements were made. And he still has that powerpoint to re-touch, after last year he had quite a few things to add to his health and safety presentation. 

Oh, and the chapter handbooks. That only took up an entire afternoon, even with two people working it. And grocery shopping tonight, he might be able to strong arm Ethan into going with him. 

Not to mention how he doubled up on physics this year, just because he’s gotten used to self-atonement.  

Everything was fine, it wasn’t like he was stressed already. 

Peter waited until the last minute, but he burned more time than necessary and finally pushed himself from his desk chair to go to the chapter’s private quarters, a meeting with Trent mandatory. 

It’s nothing too personal on Trent, but he just doesn’t like him. There wasn’t a real reason, just a general dislike. He was a bit too frat boy for him, although it makes sense, he’s the president, he’s had to make it his entire personality. But still, his subtle misogyny and hint of alpha male made Peter keep his distance. 

Checking for the fifth time, Peter opens the hidden door and slides in. 

“Parker!” 

“What’s up, Simpson?” 

Trent looks up grinning, his eyes clocking the folder in Peter’s hand. “Got my reports?” Peter hands over the folder, Trent opens it immediately and looks it over, nodding impressively at the number. 

“Thirty two recruits and you did this magic? I think I’ll keep you around, Parker. Speaking of, where are we on the shopping?” 

Peter wants to grit his teeth, when Trent said he was treasurer and everything money related would be run through him, he wasn’t exaggerating. “I have late classes tomorrow, so I’ll go tonight. I’m gonna get together with Tarrent and see what’s on the menu, plan around that.” 

Trent nods approvingly, “he’s on strict recruitment duty the next two days, so keep it short. We’ve doubled PNM's.” 

Peter keeps a straight face, “yeah, I know.” 

Trent picks up a tilt, “got a problem with it, Parker?” 

There’s that alpha, the subtle shift of dominance that runs rapidly in a house full of testosterone. 

“Not one, Simpson. It’s like you said, it’s open fucking season.” That makes him proud, “you’re damn right, baby. Now go fill up my fridge.” 

Peter nods, “I’ll check with Bakner and get Keznek to come with me. Anything else?” 

“Yes! I forgot, I’m thinking this year you do the health and safety for everyone. Not just the new recruits. I think some of these newer guys need to be reminded of what this campus and frat really stands for.” 

And Peter thinks that’s a really good idea. Maybe Trent wouldn’t be that awful this year. 

“Oh, Parker, one more thing?” One more thing, that’s fine, he doesn’t have enough on his plate. 

“Yeah?” 

“Harvey’s coming back on Friday, make sure he’s got a spot set up in here.” 

“I’ll make Hasco do it, he’s the housing officer.” Trent must not like his tone, “I know who Hasco is, Parker. Just do what I fucking say.” 

Okay, he might be awful this year. 

“Sure, yeah, you got it. Anything else,” your highness? He added in his head. 

“Tell Paul I need to meet with him, this Ally shit is annoying. He needs to know what he’s committed to.” 

His girlfriend, he’s committed to his girlfriend. And since she’s a human being, she takes priority over a frat house but Trent can’t wrap his thick skull around the idea of it. 

“Got it.” 

God bless the woman that ever puts up with that.

—--------------------

Three sheets of notebook paper, that’s how long the shopping list was. 

Tarrent was prepared and that was appreciated. Instead of having to sit around while he scrambled to prepare something, when Peter knocked on his door and asked about the groceries all he was granted was a grunt and an arm shoving out crumpled printer paper. 

Peter and Ethan walked down the cereal aisle side by side, each had a half full cart. 

“So, I was thinking about the Salander sisters. You think they’d hate me if I went after both and took the one that chooses me?”

Peter grabs six cereal boxes off the shelf, tossing the stack in his cart, he crosses off another item on the list, He’s only got two and a quarter pages left, next time, he’s bringing the pledges. 

“Aren’t they twins?” 

Ethan corrects him, “Irish twins, there’s a difference.” His attention drifted to where his best friend’s pointing, “fruit roll ups, twelve of ‘em. Which one are you trying first?” Ethan shakes his head piling cardboard and throwing it in his cart. “As if it’s a question, obviously it’s Sara.”

“I thought you were more into Sam,” cause he swore he was, “oatmeal, four of each flavor.” 

Ethan speaks over his shoulder, quaker oats sailing, Peter catching each one. “Until she picked you to kiss during that stupid card game.” 

Peter remembers, he apologized to Ethan after too. Ethan wouldn’t hear it, it wasn’t Peter’s fault he was picked, and Ethan made sure he knew it. Sam kissed him, Sam chose him, and he wasn’t owed any real loyalty, they’d only chatted a few times at a few different parties. 

Still, that night had left a bad taste in Ethan’s mouth and she shot to the bottom of his list real fast. Peter had never spoken to her before that night, but Ethan had. And she still chose Peter. 

‘I wanted to tell her no but then I'm the asshole.’ 

‘Dude, forget about it. It’s not like you stepped on any toes, if anything, you got a hookup tonight.’ 

It was tempting, but it was an unspoken agreement that any girl the other one liked, was off limits. So, he never even tried. 

“If it helps, she was a bad kisser. It was wet.”

Ethan shudders, “not sloppy?” 

Peter doubles down, “wet.”

“Do you think Sara’s the same way? Cause I can’t do sloppy kisses.” Raising a finger, Peter corrects him, making his way to the dairy section. “Wet, Keznek, it was wet.” 

“If you think a kiss was wet, what are the chances she also-” 

Peter cuts him off, “no, we’re not going there.” 

“Boo, no fun, how much milk do we need?” 

“A gallon of literally everything.” 

“We’re going to be here forever, I have moves to make, Parker.” 

A snort, “oh yeah? What’s on the radar for tonight?” 

“I don’t know yet, I’m stuck in a grocery store. 

Ethan is such a whiner, he’d do anything you asked but was a martyr through and through. 

Peter’s got it the worst and he’s not complaining, he could, but it wouldn't do anything. He’s got triple the load Ethan has, all he had to do was sit back and make sure the chapter officers were doing their job. 

At least he helps pass the time, and cuts the job in half. 

“So, I hit on a lesbian today.” 

Ethan almost stops breathing, “no way, where at? You think I could get a copy of the security footage?” 

—-----------------

At his current point in time, Peter had no idea what time it was, and he was only sure of three things. 

He had late classes tomorrow and could sleep in, Hasco put on the weirdest movie known to man, he still can’t tell if it’s in english, and he was absolutely baked. It was a new level of toasted, his arms were like noodles on his sides, limp and lifeless. Peter swears he can hear his eyelids blink, or it was Tarrent eating sunflower seeds. 

Peter’s slump against the back of the couch between Ethan and Tarrent, on Tarrent’s right was Hasco. The first, and only, sign of life from Ethan was him slowly slouching more and more until he was leaning on Peter’s shoulder, he assumes it’s to ground him because he’s allowing it for the same reason. 

Hasco’s giggling madly, slapping on his knee while the other three are locked on the screen. 

“We are so fucking high, you know how I know?” 

Peter looks to Tarrent to answer for the crowd, he supplies a ‘hmph,’ between spitting kernels. 

“I just remembered this movie is in portuguese.” 

“Oh.” It’s all Peter could get out, somehow, he understands it more than before. Tarrent is impressively loud, “even if it was in ASL shit would suck. This is like The Fast and The Furious meets Twilight.” 

“Bro, I know! Isn’t it fucking sick?” 

Peter blinks, he can look but can’t see, zoned out in a world of blank space. Ethan wheezes on Peter’s left, even out of his mind he can’t miss a shot at Hasco, “fucking sick.” 

In two days it would be the real start of the year, once the first party of the year commenced, they would never stop. It always felt like there were a million people in the house when the year started, it goes from pledges to recruits and back to members. Then you have friends and girlfriends and sororities, every night there would be at least twenty people downstairs drinking. 

It was a rare moment for the frat house to be so quiet and everyone was enjoying it, the calm before the storm. Peter thinks he’s enjoying it, but he’s also surfing the ozone layer. 

“You guys wanna get pizza?” 

Tarrent is a fucking tank, it’s seriously impressive. 

“Do you know how much money we spent at the grocery store today? Fuck no, make a sandwich.” Ethan smacks his arm, “make it two, no, three, I want one too.” Peter’s so glad Tarrent’s playing nice tonight, he actually stands and nods at the couch crew, “my boys want a BLT?” 

Not that he needs to say it, but it was the best fucking BLT of his life. 

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH

It was always a good day when you wake up before your alarm and realize you have a few more hours to sleep. Mornings like that make Peter feel more energized than eating a bag of chocolate covered espresso beans, a habit he has far too often. 

At ten thirty he couldn’t sleep anymore, throwing his sheets off him and standing with a yawn, scratching his thigh while his eyes watered. He would take a shower, hit up the dining hall with whoever lingered in the house still, then think about thermodynamics. 

His schedule, made while he was in the thick of a concussion from his spidey summer, made him sick. The classes alone made him want to eat a brick, but the days and times he chose fucked him up. His entire week was up and down. Monday he had two classes, Tuesday he had one, Wednesday he had none, Thursday he had one class and for god knows what reason, blocked his lab and lecture back to back on Friday. 

At least it was every other week, two Fridays out of the month he had nothing to do, which was pretty nice. With a big stretch and another yawn, Peter walked to his bathroom and started the shower, his boxers flying to the sink. 

The hot water felt good, his mind raced about the party the next night, how he’d be up most of the night moving things around, and how he had a lab-lecture combo. 

All he knew was that he had some fine opportunities coming up and he’d be dumb to have his bed empty tomorrow night. 

—-------------------

Belgian waffles were the only thing on Peter’s mind, the rest of his day could melt into whatever bullshit that needed to happen so he could carry on to another day. But first, he needed waffles. 

It was a whole bar, a set up of freshly made waffles and toppings galore. Strawberries, blueberries, bananas, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, maple syrup, sprinkles, butter, chopped pecans, and that was just what was on his. 

Peter was double plating, two hands, two plates. Each one had two waffles dressed to the nines, Tarrent following behind with his own. 

“Wanna sit with Paul?” 

Yuck, he was at his girlfriend's table. Ally was nice and pretty cool, but everything he’s learned about her has been against his will. Sometimes she pulls the girlfriend card a little too much, and it really only annoys him when Paul has to drop everything for her. But, for the past two years he’s known her, he can say that Ally was a perfect fit for Paul. 

“Fuck no, that freshman is over there.” She was, when he looked back to confirm, their eyes locked. Peter wasn’t backing down, not after that last interaction. Her eyes focused in on him, he doesn’t know why but his knees felt weak, suddenly he thinks she’s a witch. It wouldn’t be far-fetched, she’s evil, hates men, and makes him feel weird things. Plus, he’s Spider-Man, so they could exist, right? 

It was a staring contest, until Ally caught on to her friend looking at something, when she turned her head to look back the girl stopped her. Reaching out and breaking eye contact, she played like she was in a daze, laughing at something Paul said. 

It was weird, she was weird. Peter couldn’t choose between staying away and getting closer. 

“-Are you even listening to me? God, bro, it’s chill if you like the freshman. You can talk to her, no one will care.” Peter was snapped back to life, “she’s weird and keeps showing up.” Plastic plates click against the table top, the chairs screeching to life. Tarrent flops down, scraping his teeth across his fork when he takes a bite. He’s got a terrible habit of talking while eating, “does she keep showing up or are you just noticing her?”

“I just met the girl, Bakner. I don’t even know her name, how could I notice her?” 

“Maybe cause you want to know her name, Parker.” 

Tarrent doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Sure, she may have caught his attention a little and sure, he might have invited her to the party with the intention of possibly getting into her pants. But that has nothing to do with wanting to know her name or anything. He doesn’t care about girls like that.  

Peter still misses his favorite lunch lady but the waffles were really good this morning. 

He pulls a Tarrent and talks while cheeking his bite, “she bumped into me, several times. And was mean about it, why would I want to know her?” 

“Maybe she likes you, ever think about that, dingus?” 

Well, not really. She doesn’t even know him, how could she like him? The school year just started, unless he’s got a stalker walking around… or a witch.

“Someone taught you the word maybe once and you haven’t stopped using it since.” 

A grin full of bacon, “maybe.” 

Peter can’t stop himself from asking, “why do you think she likes me?” Tarrent’s fork clatters to his plate, “knew it.” 

“Knew what?” 

“I knew you liked her.” 

“I don’t know her! She’s the one that- we’re talking in circles, Bakner!” 

Tarrent pats Peter’s shoulder, which he shakes off and mumbles insults about Tarrent’s IQ level. “You know what, Parker? I think this is the year you get a girlfriend.” 

Peter stares his friend in the eye while he chews and swallows, “eat shit, Bakner.” 

—---------------------

“Welcome to thermodynamics. This is a fast paced, no frills, no bullshit class. If you cannot handle that, you will be left behind. This is a hands-on class, and I have high standards for everyone in here. If you do not follow my rules, you’ll be excluded and shunned from the rest of us. I’m Dr. Octavius, I’ll be your professor for the next fifteen weeks and it is my honor to teach you the fun in thermodynamics.”

This guy was absolutely not fucking around, he was all business and execution. Or as Peter likes to call these people, too smart for their own good. He earns his respect immediately, he’s the type of teacher that would get under his skin and push him to his extreme limits. Those are his favorite kinds. 

“I want each of you to look at the person on your left and right,” the class pauses, but he encourages them to do so. Peter looks at the guys next to him, one looks like a deer in headlights, the other looks more like Peter, excited to be challenged. 

For a second he imagines what his reaction would be if he saw the freshman sitting next to him. It wouldn’t be possible, but he imagines how shocked he would be. And the annoyance, god, he’d be so annoyed. But a small, tiny, itty bitty, microscopic part of him would be glad to be entertained. 

She’s not even around and he’s annoyed thinking about her. 

Why was he thinking about her? Why is she in his mind? Why is he imagining his reaction to her? 

She’s a witch. No other explanation. 

Peter shakes her from his mind and refocuses. 

Dr. Octavius nods at the group, “yes, good, good commit them to memory,” A few people start chatting, and he seems all for it, until his hand raises and everyone silences. “Now, immediately forget them.” 

Even if it wasn’t audible, he could hear everyone choke.

“Because, thirty percent of you will not be here by the sixteenth. If you want to drop my class, do it by then, if not, you’ll be charged for the semester and I won’t hear your sob story.” 

Ice cold. This is the best professor he’s ever had, he has a few more to meet but no way they would compare. This guy could tell Peter to go lay in a bath of acid because he’s not worth the surface matter he’s wasting to exist and he’d lay down for him. 

“I hope everyone here knows what thermodynamics are, if not, you’ve been failed by everyone around you.” He studies the room, reading each face for a moment before smiling. Pressing a button in his hand, the projector turns on, the syllabus on the screen. 

“Any questions?” 

No one raises their hand.

—-----------------

If Peter was a rich man, and he really wished he was, he'd buy himself a nap today. Not that naps are something you can buy, but if he could pay someone to do his work for him then he could take a nap. Normally, that just means employing a pledge to the task, but he won’t have one for a few days. 

The frat pays him, which is pretty nice because it pays him more than he could make in any part time job. It’s hard to become a chapter officer, but when you make it, it’s so worth it. He’s a top dog on campus and in the house, it’s nice having power outside the suit.  

But, he couldn’t buy a nap and he had thirty two chapter handbooks to make, hopefully getting to skip out on the set up for the party the next night. He’d have to go out for booze tomorrow, but he was praying he wouldn’t have to shove furniture around. 

When Peter walked in the house door he could hear something happening in the kitchen and it wasn’t sounding good. Suddenly, Peter felt wide awake. Hasco was yelling at Booker, who was holding back his anger but the wall was faltering. 

Ethan was absolutely useless, holding a bowl of cornflakes to his chest while he watched the brewing flight. He nodded at Peter, then to Hasco spitting insults at a million miles an hour. “Fuckin sick,” the mocking never got old. 

Before he intervened he needed to know if he should, something he’s learned as a man and as someone in a frat, sometimes you just need to fight it out. 

Peter shook his backpack off and watched them bicker back and forth. It was more like a coked up Hasco on a tangent and a way too calm exterior but built with inner rage Booker listening and tightening his fist with each insult. Booker played hockey, he was an athlete on and off the field, meaning, he took all he could before exploding. 

“What’s happening?” Ethan’s in no rush to respond, drinking milk from the bowl. 

“Something that needs to happen.”  

Hasco’s about to get the absolute shit beat out of him, “he’s been screaming for five minutes, I think Booker’s gonna knock him out.” 

That’s fine with him but his blender’s right there. 

“Booker, don’t get his blood on my blender please.” It stops Hasco, but seals his fate. 

“Who-” raging bloodshot eyes on him, “who the fuck’s gonna get blood on the blender? Me? You think this fuckin guy can put his hands on me? You think he can fight me? You think any of you motherfuckers can take me down?” 

Hasco slaps the side of his face, “fuckin do it, pussy. I know you won’t, you’re a bitch just like your mom-” 

Peter and Ethan pull their head back in a hiss, the collison sounded like a crack. It was enough to send Hasco’s head spinning before he dropped, he was real silent real fast. 

Booker stood over him and pulled him up by his shirt, a raised hand in the air. “Don’t fucking talk about my mom, you don’t know shit about her and what she’s done for me.” 

Ethan points his spoon towards him, defending his point. “Facts, the mom card was too far, Hasco.” 

“I should beat your ass, but Parker said no blood on his blender.” 

“Thank you!” 

“Thank your white friend and apologize on my moms behalf,” when Hasco stays silent Booker lifts his hand a little, Peter moves around to see him wince in fear. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it, I was just heated man, you know how it is, it’s all crazy this time of year, cause all these new guys come in and my mind is all scrambled-” 

Ethan’s spoon points again, “that’s the coke.” 

“Hey! Fuck you man! If you wanna fucking go then we can go, motherfucker.” 

“You’re being held down by another man talking about beating my ass.” 

“Fuck all you! The only real one here is Parker, he’s a real friend, he has my back, he’s the only one here protecting me.” 

“I was protecting my blender,” Ethan shoves his elbow into his and mumbles, “health and safety officer,” he corrects himself, “and you, Hasco. It’s my job to protect everyone in the house. Do we need to settle this with a gulag or can it end here?” 

Booker’s over it, and Hasco needs a bump. 

“Let me up and we can hug it out,” and they do. Awkwardly slapping at each other’s back, Hasco giving him a “we all good brotha,” causing Peter and Ethan to wince again. 

“Don’t ever fucking say that to me.” 

“Parker! He’s still threat-” 

“Anything Booker deems racist is gonna get your ass beat, that’s a rule we signed in.” Ethan nods, “can confirm, I was there as witness.” 

“Simpson agreed? Of course he did, Polish motherfucker.” 

Ethan lost it, his shoulders shaking with his laugh. Hasco had something to say about everyone, last year after they butted heads, Hasco called him ‘plant fucker’ for six weeks and it never got old. Ethan laughing made Peter smirk, but he had to kill it before Hasco could catch him. 

“You know I love you, man! No more disrespect on your mom, you slapped the shit outta me. I feel like a bitch, I would’ve rather you punched me.” 

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” 

Hasco made a motion of his mind exploding, “wild man, you’re a wild man.” He jumps at the idea of something and looks around the kitchen rubbing his nose, “hey, uh, we all good here guys? I got some shit to do in my room.” 

Eyes are on Peter, he’s the one that makes the call. He assumes everything’s fine, Booker looks bored and Hasco’s running his tongue over his gums, eyes twitching to the staircase. 

“Cleared.” 

Hasco nods, “fuckin sick,” and slithers between Peter and Ethan, slowly walking to the staircase before running up them. Peter’s stating the obvious, but it needs to be said. 

“Oh, he needs a fucking rehab.” 

Booker shrugs, “I dunno, dude. I slapped him sober.” 

Ethan cleans his bowl in the sink, “slapped him into next week, that shit ricocheted off the cabinets.” Booker eyed Peter as he said, “I mean, he deserved it?” Peter raised his hands up, “I said it was cleared, you don’t have to explain or excuse shit.” 

He snapped his fingers and pointed at him, “Parker, you’re my fuckin guy. I gotta get to practice, but you’re my fuckin guy.” Peter waved him off, “you protected my blender, bro. Tarrent loves that thing.” 

Booker jogged away pointing at him, “my guy! Still my guy!” 

Ethan raised his eyebrows at Peter when they were left alone, “you’re gonna love me.” 

“What’d you do?” 

Ethan shrugs, “made use of my day off and printed those handbooks.” Peter feels like he could cry, his best friend really was one, he took one for the team and dedicated himself to hours in the library to do the brunt of the work. 

“God,” A finger stops him, “not done, I also got the folders and brackets from the supply store. All we need to do is staple, stamp and book em’.” 

“You’re the best person to ever exist and I don’t say it enough.” 

“Wanna sit on my balcony and smoke a backwood while we do it?” He can’t imagine a better scenario. 

Then wonders if the freshman smoked, and finds himself aggravated at the thought. Why was he still thinking about her? 

She’s a witch, she has to be. He pushes her away, and focuses on his friend. 

“I’ll cry right now, Keznek.” 

—-------------------

It was nice outside, Peter was comfortable in a hoodie and sweatpants, and so was Ethan. They slowly talked while they worked back and forth. Peter would staple the pages, Ethan would bracket them into the booklets, then Peter would stamp them. 

"You remember those info sheets Trent's 'new friend' got him?"

"Yeah, do you know who it is?"

Ethan hisses when he pinches his finger, “nah, I did find out it's a chick though." Even though they’re alone Ethan leans in and talks low, “and apparently it’s top, top secret. Like, no one can find out, ever. She has something on him.” Those pages are held too tightly to their chests, every fraternity in competition with each other no one dares share or spill. 

“How’d you find out?” 

“Simpson left his computer open, he had it on his notes app.” Peter blows a harsh breath, “how do you think she got it?”

“No idea, but that shit comes at a price. She wants something, and it’s gonna be something Trent can control.” 

There’s a lot he can control, everyone can think they’re the most manly in the house, but Trent owned the title. Peter doesn’t know why, but it makes him itch to find out. Normally, he wouldn’t care, but he has a weird tug that demands to be discovered. 

It was that same tug he felt when that witch looked at him today, and why is he thinking about her? Why is he still thinking about her, he doesn’t even know her name, and she’s mean. Was Tarrent right, was he just noticing her instead of her showing up? Has he been looking out for her? And why in the hell is he still thinking about her? 

He’s right, he has to be. She’s a fucking witch. 

Peter snaps out of it and stamps three books. “What if she’s just bullshitting? Is there any way to prove it’s real?” 

“She’s not and she has. She hacked their computers.” 

It’s blackmail, she needs something over the frat. It’s his job to protect the frat, from the personnel to the building. His guess is money, but the why is lost on him. If it’s frat money he’d find out, Trent would have to run it through him, and if not, he’d find it the next time he went through the books. 

“That’s so weird, and speaking of weird, you remember that chick that bumped into me?” 

Why was he talking about her? Why was he still thinking about her? It just came out, he didn’t even have anything to say. She’s a fucking witch.

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t know, nevermind.” 

Ethan shrugs, “alright. Wanna guess what Tarrent’s doing for hazing?” Peter reloads the stapler, it’s automatic and he feels like a king. “You know it’s my job to prevent hazing, right?” 

“No, it’s your job to prevent poor or dangerous hazing, and guess who makes that call?” 

“Are you saying the definition of poor and dangerous hazing is at my discretion?” 

Ethan teeter totters, “technically mine too, I have to make sure you’re doing your job.” Peter fills in the blank, “by letting hazing happen?” 

“Alright, look. It’s a right of passage, you did it, I did it, everyone in that house and the other fifteen did it. Generations of fraternities have done it dating back to three hundred and eighty seven B.C. Everyone does it, that’s all I'm saying.” 

Ethan looks up at him from the gold brackets he’s thumbing flat on the book, “I know you have…” he tries to find the right words, “higher morals than most of us, and I know you’ll know when to shut it down.” 

“I never said I wanted to stop it, I just meant we’re not gonna be the frat that kills a kid.” 

“Jesus, of course we aren’t, I just didn’t want you killing the vibe.” 

Peter scoffs, “oh, well that’s just insulting.” He can see the end of the tunnel, only eighteen books left. “So, tell me what he’s doing. Please say it’s something better than the drunk soccer match.” 

Ethan cackles, “fuck you, that’s gold. It’s happening for sure.” 

Peter can think of one better, “imagine a drunk obstacle course, like, one of those bounce house ones? But we can make it all manly, so they think it’s something easy but on the other side it’s like a fucking bootcamp.” 

“Railing sixteen beers and rope climbing a six foot wall,” the idea made him laugh just as hard as the soccer match. “That’s so sick, you’re sick for that.” 

Peter stamps three more and finishes for him, “so obviously we’re gonna do it, right?” Ethan nods, “absolutely we are.” 

It falls silent, both of them working together but enjoying the quiet. Peter likes that most about Ethan, since day one he’s felt comfortable around him. He can be himself around him and it’s never once been awkward, they just agree on everything. 

It’s weird, sometimes it feels like Ethan doesn’t care about him but that also makes him a better friend to Peter. He acts like he’s less involved than he is, like he knows that Peter pushes people away when they get too close. The only person closer to Peter than Ethan is his aunt. 

But Ethan pretends he doesn’t know that, and it makes their bond stronger. Ethan’s opinion means the world to him, anything he says is taken with a mountain of salt. And no judgment, never, ever judgment. It takes a lot for him to say it, but he’d trust him with his life. 

When they’re down to the last ten Peter clears his throat, “have you gotten anywhere with the Salander sisters?” Ethan shrugs, “I’ve been feeling this girl in my bio class, she’s pretty cool. I invited her to the party, she seemed into me, I think.” 

“Woah, the Ethan Keznek catching feelings?” 

“Easy, I had two classes with her. She seems like she’d be fun to hang with, I’m not trying to date her.” 

Peter spits it out before he can stop it, “Tarrent thinks freshman and I will end up together.” 

Why the fuck does he keep thinking about her? 

She’s a fucking witch, she has to be. 

“The entitled one?” Ethan knows he can’t get his mind off her, he brought her up twice. And each time he looked like he regretted it, but he doesn’t care enough to push it. 

“Yeah. But he’s kinda dumb, right?” Peter doesn’t even know her, he hates how she’s been popping up in his mind throughout the day.

“He could be, or he may be a clairvoyant genius that sees the future. Personally, I vote for the latter.” 

Proof he’s a best friend, giving Peter an out through a joke. 

“He’s majoring in physical therapy but he should be a conspiracy theorist.” 

Final five, Peter’s ready for dinner. “Wanna hit up the dining hall after this?” 

“God yes, I need lo-mein noodles so bad right now.” 

—------------

The table was rowdy, everyone yelling over each other. If women thought men interrupting them was bad, they should see five men hanging out together. 

“Remember when Booker slapped me?” 

Paul dropped his fork, “no, what, when?”

Tarrent’s holding the edge of his plate to his mouth as he shovels rice in. “That’s hilarious.” 

Ethan sighs dreamily, “yeah, it was awesome.”

“Yes, Hasco. It happened like, three hours ago.” 

“Ah, fuck! I always miss the best shit, this is about to be Ally’s problem.” 

“I was stretching a cheerleader's hamstrings, I didn’t miss out on anything.” 

Ethan drops his fork to point at Tarrent, making sure Peter was paying attention. “He’s bragging, make him stop.” 

“Bakner, stop bragging, some of us are more lonely than others.” His words focused more on Paul, the guy that’s been with the same girl for six years. Like, everyone feels so bad he’s missing out on fights because he’s too busy being in love. 

It’s actually disgusting to Peter. 

“Don’t blame me, you guys are the ones against church girls.” 

Hasco sneers, “cause they try to convert us, I refuse to willingly be beneath another man.” 

Ethan loves riling him up, “hey, you never know, God may be a woman.” Hasco gives him a pathetic look, “c’mon man, not even you believe that.” Ethan nods his head like he’s got a point, Paul looks like he’s sick. 

“That is our lord you’re talking about, he died for us.” Paul’s a devoted christian… only when he felt the need to be. 

Peter taps his chin, “isn’t premarital sex one of the things he died for?” 

“What my girlfriend and I do behind closed doors is not the lord's business. Or yours.” 

The table ooed, Peter nods impressively, Ally’s given him a backbone. He pushes away from the table, he’s stuffed and needs to put his plates away. He also needs to piss. 

No one notices his descent, Peter looks over the dining hall, it’s always empty for dinner. Breakfast and lunch seemed impossible with seating, but for whatever reason dinner was always empty. 

Dropping his plates in a bin he politely nodded at a group of ladies before turning back for the bathroom, mumbling a song under his breath that was stuck in his head. “... Another bottle in the brain. Another girl, another fight,” Peter hit the door open with his shoulder, finishing his mumbling. “Another drive all night.” 

Peter had that weird feeling again, the one he felt when he saw that freshman. And fuck, he’s thinking about her again. 

She’s a witch, a real fucking witch. 

Peter moved his shoulders while he washed his hands, the song replaying over and over. Swinging the door open with this foot, he mumbled to himself again. “.. another bottle in the brain,” 

A voice speaks up, “another girl, another fight.” He jumps, his eyes fall to the left, perched at a high top was the witch. Her mouth wrapped around a spoon, a cup of fro-yo in her hand. Tarrent was wrong, he wasn’t noticing her. She kept showing up. 

“Hey,” he doesn’t like how winded he sounded. Who the fuck was she? 

“Hello, Peter.” 

His heart stopped, no one calls him Peter, no one. Since day one it’s been Parker, when he was recruited he was only addressed as Parker and it stuck. It’s weird she knew what his first name was, his suspicions are adding up. 

He wants to ask how she knew his name, but it’s cliche, and he really doesn’t care. If he guessed, it was probably Ally. It’s still a bold choice that she used it, it definitely separated her from the crowd. 

“And you are…” Waiting for her to fill in the blanks, if he could find out her name he can banish all traces of her in his mind, like a demon. 

A smirk wrapped around her plastic spoon, it scraped against her teeth as she removed it. 

“Happy to have a civil conversation with you?” She thinks she’s clever, she’s not. 

“I’m sure you planned it, considering how you keep showing up around me.” That seems to tick her off, “no, you keep showing up where I already am.” 

“Now you’re just lying.” 

She raised three fingers, “scouts honor.” Peter looks around, “where are your friends?” 

Why is he still talking to her? She must have him under her spell. 

The witch hums, “can’t a girl get fro-yo alone?” 

“It’s a free country, babe. Do you, girl power, smash the patriarchy, all that stuff.” 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re slightly misogynistic?” 

Peter looks up at his brothers, it still seems like his absence hasn’t been noticed. Her eye contact is insane, it makes his knees weak like this morning. It’s gross, her powers have taken over his cerebrum. 

“Just one, I think she doesn’t know what misogyny is.” 

Her eyebrows shoot up, “you’re mansplaining now?” Peter’s eyes look at her mouth when she takes another spoonful. “Has anyone ever told you you’re slightly difficult?” It’s like his words egg her on, “just one, I don’t think he knows what difficult is yet.” 

“Yet? For a person with no name you’re bold.” Normally flirting doesn’t feel like this, he feels like he has to keep up with her. Peter hates that it feels like she always has the upper hand. 

She makes him feel like he could go all night.

The witch proves she’s difficult, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have an early class.” She jumps out of her seat, for the fourth time she’s left him thinking about her. 

“Have a goodnight, Peter.” 

“Yeah, you too.” He’s weary and doesn’t trust her. 

Her back turned on him as she walked away, his eyes dropped to her ass and tilted his head impressively. He can’t deny a nice sight. 

Too bad she’s a witch. 

When he makes it back to the table it’s unnoticed, except for Tarrent, he gives Peter the smallest hint of a smile.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 9TH

It was the day he’s been preparing for all week. The official start of the year, he wouldn’t be able to get too loose tonight, he’d be too busy kicking out anyone puking, fighting or excessively crying. 

He also had a lecture and a lab today. He hates himself. If he plans it right, he’d have time to take a nap, not that he would, but the idea of one made him feel better. Speaking of naps, he still needs to set up a bed for Harvey in the chapter room. 

Rolling over, Peter picked up his phone and went straight for twitter. It was his morning news, scrolling for a little until a headline caught his eye. 

‘Spider-Menace’s scheduled slump.’ He clicks the link, it opens and he rolls his eyes, he should’ve expected it. 

‘Spider-Menace is no longer patrolling the streets nightly, don’t worry criminals, you won’t be out of a job anymore. To the real heroes of the city, the citizens, we bid ado to the masked vigilante. For the second year, Spider-Menace picked up activity during the summer months, and has plans to become a rare sight during the months that follow. 

It’s unsure what our ‘friendly’ city destroyer is up to, but we do know the ones trained for their job, the NYPD, are prepared for any threat. For more on Spider-Menace, download our app to be the first to know exclusive news updates.’ 

Just like usual, the Daily Bugle was dumb as shit. 

Peter Parker had shit to do, a life to build. Spider-Man didn’t pay the bills, Peter did. It doesn’t mean choosing himself over a daunting responsibility was easy, the first year he stressed himself so thin he lost his abilities. 

No strength, no healing, no heightened listening. He needed glasses for the first time in years, and for a second he swore his asthma came back. 

Needless to say, it freaked him the fuck out. He’s always viewed Spider-Man as a thing he had to do, the great responsibility his uncle Ben reminded him of. And when he lost it, he realized how much he wrapped himself into his alter ego. 

When Peter lost Spider-Man, he lost himself. And he swore if he got his powers back, he’d build a life for Peter outside them. 

And he did. He has been. And no matter what his uncle told him, he knows he’d be damn proud of him for doing it.

Peter pulls at the chain around his neck and looks at the ring on it, it was Ben’s wedding ring. May gave it to him when he turned eighteen, she said he had a dream and needed him to have it. He’s worn it every day since then. 

Bored of twitter he makes the switch to instagram, opening his messages and responding to the videos he’s been sent. For whatever reason he thinks about the witch, he wonders if he could find her from Ally’s page. He probably could, but it feels like cheating. 

Starting his day the same way, he walks to his bathroom yawning and pulling his boxers off. Starting the shower and wasting the time waiting for it to heat up by brushing his teeth, tugging at the front of his hair with a grunt. 

He needs a haircut. 

He should get one before the party. 

He also needs to buy booze. 

And two fucking classes, that fucking guy really was a Spider-Menace. 

‘Half lab, Peter. Half lecture.’ He thanks his own mind for the gentle reminder. The shower feels nice, it always does. On his bad days, the days where everything is too much it’s his safe place. He could stay in the shower for hours, the rushing water calms him, even when it turns ice cold. 

They don’t happen often, but it’s debilitating when they do. He spends his day hiding, on one really bad day he was curled up on the floor of the shower with his hands pressing into his ears as hard as they could, trying his best to block everything out and it wasn’t working, nothing was working. He remembers sobbing, praying to any God that would listen to help him. No one heard him. 

But that was last year. He had an episode over the summer, and as much as she didn’t want to leave him alone, he begged May to leave. Her walking around, or even sitting on the couch was too much. He could hear the fabric move underneath her, he could even hear her breathe. 

It took hours, but when he was defeated and went from hearing the city to a low, constant ring he was ready to sleep. He’d be okay in the morning, sometimes that’s the only thing that gets him through it. He called May and apologized, and told her she could come back to her own home. She laughed at him and said ‘it’s your home too,’ and that made him feel better than a shower ever could. 

But today wasn’t one of those days. Today, he was making it a good day. 

—--------------

Peter’s good day took a small dip when he had to skip breakfast. And by skipping breakfast, he means all he had was a fat spoonful of peanut butter and an apple to go. He forgot to refill his water before leaving and nearly choked to death on the glue in his mouth. 

Every dog in the world had gained his sympathy. 

But, today was a good day. Especially when he was seated next to a smoking hot chick, he wasted no time in casually looking her over, committing details to think of rather than stare. A black skater skirt exposed a tattoo of Medusa that took up her entire thigh, a white shirt with a Vans logo in the center, it was obvious she cut the sleeves herself. 

She was wearing a black bralette underneath, she was flat chested and he didn’t mind one bit. They suited her, she seemed too cool for him. She looked like she would ruin his life and he’d love every minute of it. 

He wasn’t wasting any time, “first time here?” 

The girl winced, he did too the second he said it. 

“That’s your opening line, really? Are you proud of that?” 

Peter shook his head, “I regretted it the second I said it. Usually I’m way cooler, but pretty girls make me nervous.” 

The girl smiles, she has teeth to envy. “Smooth, did you plan that whole thing?” He didn’t, but if she believes it he’s not one to ruin dreams. 

“Maybe things are working out in my favor, like sitting next to you.” 

There’s a gleam in her eye, “you’re a flirter, and that makes you dangerous.” Peter might be laying it on thick here, but she may like it. “Hm, do you like danger?” Her eyebrow quirks, “do you?” 

Oh, he wants her. 

Peter extends his hand out, “Parker, nice to meet you.” The girl shakes his hand, it’s ultra soft. “Nice to meet you, Parker.” 

What the fuck is up with girls not sharing their names? What’s he supposed to do, call them babydoll? 

“Any plans tonight?” 

“Your party, what else would I be doing?” 

Peter’s celebrating on the inside, she’s just been booted to the top of the list. 

“Glad to hear it, if you’re okay with it I’d love to play a game of pong with you.” 

The girl holds a hand to her chest, jewelry covering her fingers and wrist. 

“I’d be okay with it, not sure my girlfriend would be.” 

Peter’s entire world collapses, he meets the girl of his dreams and he’s the furthest thing away from her type. She seems overjoyed to share the news, the defeat on his face is the highlight of her day. When he takes a good look at her he’s reminded of someone else. 

“Is your name…” They say at the same time, “Lily?” 

“I was waiting on that one, handsome. Rose told me all about you, I had to get two for oh.” 

He has to take that one on the chin, “you live up to the hype, Lily.” She’s happy with his words, “same to you, Parker.” 

Peter plays it cool when the lecture starts, he’s trying to make it a good day. But all he can think about are the witches' words. Maybe he really has lost his frat boy edge, so far his only prospects have been two lesbians and a freshman. 

And just like that he has a burnt taste in his mouth, because he somehow rounded his thoughts back to her. 

She’s fucking evil, and she’s a witch.

—--------------

Peter’s standing at the edge of the kitchen looking over the liquor on the counter. It’s an impressive haul, he doesn’t think they have enough coolers and fridges for all the beer. The island would be spread out with all the bottles, mixers, cups, and as tradition calls, jungle juice. 

Tarrent is running around like a mad man, screaming at everyone but Peter to ‘fucking do something!’ Hasco’s preparing in his room and no doubt Trent’s joined him. Paul’s coming late due to Ally, no one’s shocked. Leaving Booker and Nick to follow every command from Tarrent. 

Peter should help out, and he will later, but he’s got to take a shower. He got the haircut he needed and he can feel little hairs poking into his neck, plus, he’s not sure what the night could bring. 

“Give me ten minutes to shower and I’ll help you guys, where’s E?” Booker shrugs, Nick’s sweating like a whore in church and Tarrent pauses to point and laugh. 

“Ha! Parker’s about to go wash his balls.” 

Peter squints at him, “yeah, girls tend to like that.” 

“Yeah- sure, whatever you say, buddy.” Nick looks between everyone’s face while he slowly asks, like everyone is scared of the answer. 

“Do you… Do you not wash your balls?” 

“Showering is a scam made up by Dove soap. People say you only need to shower like, once a week.” 

Peter shakes his head, “no, that’s not… Tarrent you work out all the time, I can’t believe I need to tell you, but you gotta wash your sack. In general and especially before you hook up, imagine a cheerleader after four days of practice and no shower asking you to munch down on her.” 

Tarrent is a different breed, “that’s the difference between us, Parker. I enjoy the musk.” 

Peter gags, Booker says, “man, that’s nasty.” Nick’s actually gagging, he’s got the weakest stomach to exist. 

“That’s what separates you boys from us men.” 

Nick whines through another gag, “I don’t wanna be a man, Parker, don’t let him make me a man.”

—-------------

Peter’s quiet as he gets ready. 

His frat shirt looks good, he’s not one to fawn over his body, but he can’t help but nod impressively at his build. His shirts tighter this year, evidence of hard work. His haircut is nice, it’s a little shorter than he normally goes but he’s not sure when he’d get time to go again, so he wanted some wiggle room. 

Even if it was bad no one would see it, at this point he feels naked without his snapback. Peter tucked his necklace into his shirt, he hates when girls ask him about it. He understands they need an ice breaker but it’s the worst one to bring up. 

Brushing down his jeans and making sure his Nike’s were clean, he was ready for the night to start. He doesn’t know how he did it, but Tarrent had set up the entire kitchen by himself, snapping his fingers at Peter the second he saw him, requesting help for moving the couch. 

Peter’s hands gripped at the edge of the couch, nodding at Tarrent, “ready?” They lift it in one go, moving to set it against the wall, then do the same to the other one, and the chairs. All that was left was a giant open space, couches and chairs were free game, but it made more space for more bodies. 

“Make sure the keg fridge is working, I’m gonna go wash my balls.” 

At least he took the advice.

Peter heads to the garage with a plastic cup and pulls at the keg tap, it takes a second and foam rushes out, then ice cold miller light. It was a small gimmick Peter made when he was pledging and he swears to this day that’s what got him sworn in. 

He bought an old fridge off a grad student and emptied it out, threw a keg in and sawed a hole in the front to feed a tube and the tap. It was genius, everyone loved it. Peter chugs the beer and tosses the foam, they’ve got an hour until people start showing. 

Peter wonders when the witch will show up, will he be able to feel her presence before he sees her? It’d be a nice warning but he doesn’t have the best control at gaging people he doesn’t know that well yet. 

He needs to stop thinking about her, and fuck, he needs to make that bed for Harvey before Trent snaps his neck. Racing around for sheets and pillows, Peter opens the chapter door and sets up the pull out couch, he’s not a homemaker by any means but he’d be fine to sleep here. 

“Oh good, I was making sure you were doing your job.” 

Peter jumps, turning to look back at Trent. “I mean, not really my job, but sure.” 

“You’re testy this year, don’t challenge me in front of Harvey, I need his respect.” Wow, the first time Trent ever admitted he needed something. Even if Peter doesn’t like him, he can respect his dedication to proving he could truly run the frat. 

“Sir, yes, sir.” Peter salutes to his president, it makes him break his rough exterior, he’s nervous. 

“That’s more like it, Parker.” 

—----------------

“I think Harvey’s here.” 

Peter moved to stand next to Ethan on his balcony, looking down at a Mercedes pulling into the driveway. “Yeah, that’s him.” His best friend scoffs, “isn’t it shit how the richest kids don’t appreciate what they have the most?” 

“The fuck are you talking about, Kez? Don’t you have CFO daddy money?” 

Ethan’s sharp, “don’t you have dead parents money?” 

It went silent, both shocked he said it. Until they start laughing, if anyone else had said it, it would be in poor taste. When Ethan says it, he’s laughing with Peter, it’s like he shares the massive trauma with him. 

“And dead uncle, check cleared the second after I turned twenty one.” 

“That life insurance pays out, doesn’t it?” 

Peter nods, breaking from the joke for a second. At the time when Ben had created it and fed into it, it was rare to have such a good plan. 

“Oh yeah, he had awesome fucking benefits. My aunt still gets pension checks, he’s been dead for eight years.” 

“No shit? That’s pretty fucking sick.” 

“And not that they had any obligation to, but his company paid for the entire funeral.” 

Peter doesn’t open up much, but it’s casual with Ethan. Even so, he doesn’t like showing his cards, it was minor, but he’s said more than enough. 

“Hey! You, um…” Peter trails off when he relights the joint, the flame expanding before shrinking back down. His voice goes deep when he talks through an exhale, “got any plans with bio chick?” 

“Nah, I’m just gonna play it cool. We have the semester together, too much too fast and it’s a dumpster fire.” 

True fucking that. Obsessed Olivia ruined the first half of his second year, after that, he swore he wouldn’t hook up with a classmate before a two week period. (Unless he counts the lesbians, and he does not, because it’s not happening.) 

“That’s so real, you’re so real for that.” 

“I’ve been enlightened, I went to a sweat lodge retreat this summer and my third eye has been opened.” 

Peter feels sick, “that’s the most rich kid shit I’ve ever heard.” Ethan smacks his arm, “I know how busy you are in the summer, otherwise I would’ve invited you.” Sometimes he feels like Ethan gives him a wink, wink, nudge, nudge look, but he’s also slightly paranoid and Ethan’s usually high. 

“Oh. Damn. So sad I missed that.” It was monotone, and Ethan waves him off. “Sure, make fun of me now, but next year you’re coming and you’ll love it.” 

“No, I need water. I’ll die.” 

“I mean, you get water, dude. They just suck all of it out of you first and push you to the brink of death and delusion until you give into your ego and admit defeat because you’d do anything for a drop of water.” 

Peter stares at him in horror. 

“It’s awesome, dude.” 

The boys turn their heads at a footstep on the deck, Harvey Gyun in his Burberry glory. He pushes aviators up to his hair, arms open wide in greeting, like he was about to tackle them. 

“What’s up, you short dicks?” 

Harvey’s a cool guy. It’s pretty surface level with him, he’s a rich asshole, only because he doesn’t know any better. But he still treats you well. 

Peter could put up with him snapping at a waitress if it meant he was getting a free two hundred dollar meal, and he has. Several times. 

Peter shouts out, “the king is back!” Harvey nods to the clapping, “that he is, that he is. How about you princesses bow for me?” 

He's an alum. You do what they say, kidding or not. 

The chapter officers bow at his request, Harvey giggles and rubs his hands together. “I forgot I have that power now, I’m gonna fuck with Simpson so hard. Be honest, how freaked out was he about me coming?” 

As much as he didn’t like Trent he promised him he’d make him look good. 

“Not bad, he was actually pretty chill.” Ethan doesn’t need to understand the bluff to back it, it’s his job as best friend. 

“More excited to show you he’s ready for this, you did good at preparing him last year.” 

Harvey can smell bullshit a mile away, but knowing the officers were dedicated to their president speaks volumes. The frat will be just fine without him. 

“Good backing, boys. Daddy taught you well. Finish that,” he points at the joint, “and meet me downstairs. We need a toast before the year starts.” 

Harvey Gyun has a kind of energy Peter’s never seen before. “Yes, sir.” Harvey kisses his teeth, rubbing at his lawline, Peter clocks his watch. It’s sixty grand. 

“Such good boys.” 

When the coast is clear, Ethan turns to Peter with a bit lip and a whimper. “I hate how much I loved that.” It’s not Peter’s preferred voice, but he can’t pretend he doesn’t know what he means. 

“Yeah, good boy makes a man feral.” Peter passes the joint Ethan’s way, “kill it.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good boy.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

—--------------------

Peter looks around the room at his small group of brothers. When everyone else joined in, it’d be a blended family. But no one could ever be as close as these six guys, they’ve been through it all together. 

He’s proud of himself and everybody in the room. 

Three years. They’ve made it three years and as dumb as he’s always thought it was, even with all their minor grievances, he’s made friends for life. Even if they fall out of touch for a few years, he'll be at the wedding and the funeral. 

“I won’t lie, it feels weird not hosting freshman Friday this year. But you fuckers have made it three years in and I couldn’t be prouder in my choice of men to recruit. Tonight, we party, we mistake, we regret and we have fun. And- I think Simpson’s the best president you could have.” 

Trent visibly relaxes, everything he’s been praying for came to fruition. Harvey must have known he wouldn’t be able to do any of those things if he was paranoid of being watched all night. Harvey raised his shot glass and everyone did the same, taking a second to clap Trent’s shoulder before addressing the group.

The group chanted as one, “Sig Nu!” 

Shot glasses double tapped on the counter, tequila was a bold choice. It was just the thing he needed for the night to start. Ethan’s eyes on the clock, he nudges Tarrent. 

“Booker, Nick, collectors fee.” 

They leave to stand guard outside the door, nodding at a forming line. Trent leaves with Harvey, Tarrent goes to set up the music that Hasco will take over once he’s done getting a fix. Ethan’s yelling at Hasco through the bathroom door about ‘not getting too coked up’ and Hasco biting back with a ‘fuck you!’ 

Peter shakes his shoulders and takes a step, Tarrent stops him with a hand on his chest. His voice lowered, looking around so no one would hear. 

“Talk to the freshman. I mean it, Parker.” 

It always circles back to her.

Witch, witch, witch, witch. 

“You’re delusional.” 

“Maybe I am, or maybe you trust me and talk to the girl.” 

Peter wants to correct him, inform him she’s a witch because he can’t get her out of his mind. But the real reason she was a witch was because she made Peter want to talk to her more. 

And that’s not who he is. 

So, she has to be a witch. 

Right?

YOUR FIRST WEEK.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6TH

It may have been the first day of the year, but the cafeteria was buzzing. 

Breakfast in the food hall didn’t feel this busy on a normal school week. It seemed like everyone was sitting with their friends sharing a breakfast burrito or an orange, catching up from summer break. You were entertaining your friend group talking about a summer vacation and part time job you took up to save up spending cash for the school year. 

(And leaving out the real source of cash- it’s cheating and you have to hide your eyes from Noa.)

Five people were at your table. 

Ally Storm, dating Matt Paul of Sig Nu, second and third year roommate. 

Sarah Adams, nursing student and never around.

Prince Otto, three years in and major undeclared. 

Natalie Fieldman, roommate your freshman year, art major. 

And Noa Carter, computer science superfreak. 

The group talked over each other, then quieted down when nine hit. Everyone except you, Ally and Prince went to class. Leaning in when she spoke, you and Prince strained to hear, unaware she’d be spilling secrets.

“All that talk about this summer and you don’t even bring up Harvey?” 

Harvey was the best well kept secret you had, he graduated last year and was an official alumni of Sigma Nu. You’d kept hooking up all summer, before parting ways when you moved back for college, keeping the door open so when he visited there was always an option. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Harvey Gyun? I need when, where, why and what, right now.” 

Holding up a hand you raise a finger at each point, “like three weeks before he graduated, my dorm or his room at a party, to have fun with zero commitment, and Ally would’ve never known if Matt didn’t see me sneaking out of his room at like, five am.” 

Prince sucked his teeth, “he’s a prick, he said he was only sleeping with me.” 

“Oh, what the fuck.” 

Prince was seeing him too? Ally slammed her hand over her mouth, it’s how you felt. 

“Double dipping bitch.” 

You shrug, “you gotta respect a man’s hustle sometimes, Prince.” 

Ally reached a hand out on the table, silently demanding attention. “You know who’s hustling will earn my respect?” A hand patted your shoulder, “our friend here, and it’s currently recruiting season at the frat house, thirty two new boys introduced.” 

Your eyes bug out, “thirty two, what the fuck? How are they keeping count this year?” You could be an actress if you tried.

“Apparently, twelve will be cut by the second week. Then hazing starts, so we’ll scope it out next week and make our bets.” 

“Prince, please pick a winner this year.” 

Green hair swayed when he shook his head, arms crossed. “Nope, I got a thing for the underdog.” 

Ally grinned up at her boyfriend when he took a seat next to her, three breakfast burritos on a plate. Your eyes flashed up for the rest of the frat, scanning the food lines you counted heads. Aaron, Keznek, Hasco, Bakner. Trying not to let the disappointment show you looked back at Ally, talking quicker than lightning to her boyfriend, who definitely wasn’t listening as he scarfed burritos down. 

Looking at the time you frown, you had an appointment with your class advisor and a shitload of books to rent and buy. Standing, you look over to the coffee bar, having enough time you grab another cup and go. 

You rattle your paper cup as show and hitch a near empty bag over your shoulder. “Meeting with my advisor, have a lovely first day my friends.”  Matt gave an extra loud goodbye as you walked off, sending him a middle finger behind your back. Saying quick ‘excuse me’s’ as you passed through the crowd, doing your best to avoid shoulders. 

Approaching the small, self-serve coffee cart you open your cup, then see a ‘please use a new cup each time!’ sign and followed instructions, grabbing a piping hot pot of coffee, full of caffeine and loaded up.

Steam billowed over your fingers as you filled the cup up, peering over the assortment of milk and sugar you grin at your pick of the litter. 

Looking over to your left when someone stands next to you, you feel your heart race. Swiping his card at checkout and sharing conversation with the line worker, you’ve never seen anything more attractive. You allow yourself to imagine him handing his card to a waiter at dinner, a dinner he asked you out to. 

Even more handsome than the last time you saw him, a secret crush. 

Last year he had broken up a fight between some twins that were later kicked out the frat, watching him tear them apart and slam the bigger one to the ground as the other was held back by Keznek, made something click in your brain and suddenly you had your eye out for Peter Parker everywhere you went. 

The comedic irony being you’ve never spoken to him, fairly sure he doesn’t even know you exist. Flying under his radar for two years, last year boosting you with confidence with your hookup partners, you promised this was the year of going after what you want. 

And you wanted Peter Parker. 

Snapping the lid you turn to leave, sliding sideways between two tables. About to cross by the table you were just sitting at, you look down at your shoe, losing balance and shoulder checking the person next to you, quickly apologizing. 

“So sorry!” 

The universe had your back, who else did you bump into other than your crush himself? 

Brown hair hidden under a snapback, a heather gray t-shirt with red details, his fraternity logo on the corner of his chest and a full piece on the back. Brown eyes with a honey ring looked at you, for a moment you felt your chest tighten. Peter Parker was about to talk to you, it felt like your tongue went thick, until his eyes hardened and looked at you with disgust. 

A sneer, “fucking freshman.” 

What a prick, it was a tap and you apologized. He wasn’t the person you’d hoped he’d be, it was a shame he was too cute.  “I hope you fucking choke.” You bark at him, words spilling before you could think, then bolting.

Peter’s eyes go wide at your statement, whizzing by a table and up the steps you leave the dining hall. Stomping away, like your harsh steps could be proof for the discontent you felt. It felt somewhat satisfying, because you felt him watching you all the way out. 

It may have not been what you liked, but there was no way Peter Parker wouldn’t know who you are after today. 

—-----------------------

Shaking your leg and tapping the heel of your foot on the linoleum you look around, arms crossed as you rope over your future. The easy years are over, it’s all about focusing on your major now. 

Your advisor is nowhere to be seen, you can’t imagine how many people she’s seeing this week. Eyes catching the inspirational posters in her office, they’re cheesy at best, but damn if they don’t make you feel slightly proud of yourself for getting this far. 

Gripping your coffee cup, you look at the cafeteria logo and grimace. 

Your meet cute was more like a meet ugly, but maybe he was having a bad day? It’s not like you were all sunshine and roses, the start of the school year sucked, and if you knew anything about last night, he was probably hungover. Unlike you, because you knew the consequences of your actions, you chose to stay in no matter how hard Ally had begged. 

‘C’mon, please?’ she dragged out her ‘e’ and gave you puppy dog eyes. 

‘Tempting, but no.’ your bed was extremely comfortable underneath you. 

‘Please? I don’t wanna go alone.’ if you didn’t know Ally as well as you do you might have given in, but you knew she was full of bullshit. 

‘I’m not getting out of bed, dressing, and going to sit in a loud ass frat house while you practice making babies with your boyfriend.’ 

Argument proved right the next day when she arrived back at the dorm at six in the morning, makeup smeared and a memory of a wild night. The only thing shared before she fell into her bed and passed out for the next two hours was, ‘why did you let me do that? You suck.’ 

Blinking out of the fog when the door opens, you’re greeted by the same advisor you’ve had for the last two years. “Halfway there, kiddo.” Grinning at her words, scared, but prepared for the next step. Mrs. Caliban swayed her hips as she walked to her desk, sitting in her chair and pushing her glasses to her hair. 

“Let’s figure out what books you really need, hm?” 

Settling into your seat and crossing your legs, holding your knee in place with your palms. 

“I’m ready for some of that Mrs. Caliban magic.” 

Watching her look over your classes you appreciate how hard she’s working, crunching numbers and using her knowledge as proof of purchase she tsks as she looks over your requirements log. 

“Half of these you won’t use, my advice? Friend up with a sucker who buys one and use theirs on the rare or off chance you actually need it.” 

Your heart soaring when she gives you your new sheet, initialing on her copy and stopping yourself from bouncing in your seat. You’re getting her a care package, you don’t care what she says. She’s your guardian angel that just saved you six hundred bucks and secured your ski tip this December. 

“Mrs. Caliban, you just did wonders for me, you have no idea.” 

You can’t tell if she’s blushing but her response makes you think she is. 

“The miracles are why I do it, kiddo. Now, if you don’t mind, I have thirty seven others to make today.” 

You caught the hint, scrambling from your seat and hooking an empty bag around your shoulder, prepared to be filled with less books than you were prepared for. How crazy. 

Mrs. Caliban’s voice called out your last name before you could open the door, “I have a good feeling about you, I think it’ll be your year. I’m proud of you.”

And damn if that doesn’t make your eyes water. 

“I’m counting on it now, Mrs. Caliban. Don’t be wrong.” 

Her face tells you you have nothing to worry about, it’s an unamused expression. 

“Tell me, baby. When have I ever been wrong?” 

You can’t think of one. 

—--------------

You couldn’t keep the grin off your face, thumbs moving as quickly as possible across your keyboard. It was already planned for, and it was going to happen no matter what, but what your advisor just did for you tied the bow. And gave you some fun money.

‘Guess who just saved $600 and is DEFINITELY going on the ski trip?’ 

Ally’s response was immediate.

‘telling matt rn so he can secure the spot. SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS!!!!’ 

Butting your hip against the bar doorknob, you swung the door outwards and stepped outside, your eyes adjusting to the light. Blinking quickly, you peered up and took a wide step towards the right, heading to the bookstore. 

‘Dude, you have no idea. Mrs. Caliban is a fucking hero.’ 

‘i will give her my life for making it possible for this to happen.’ 

‘you have no idea, i was about to be so miserable with no other girls there.’ 

‘Prince is close enough.’ 

Suddenly, he has something to say. The group chat was his idea but it’s really just you and Ally talking to each other while Prince reads it and randomly jumps in. Peeking up and approaching the line for the bookstore, which wrapped around the building you looked back down at your messages. 

‘Hey, popping in to say a few choice words.’ 

‘Fuck you.’ 

You heart reacted his message, biting your lip in a silent giggle. Ally laugh reacted, which made Prince follow up with a middle finger emoji. Forgetting how close you were to the line, and lost in the excitement of saving money and going on a ski trip you lose focus and crash into the person in front of you. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you and I’m sorry!” 

And, oh fuck, you recognize that shirt. It was ingrained in your mind that morning. If you thought he wasn’t going to forget you earlier then you’ve just signed it into law, he’d never forget you now. 

It’s proven when he hits you with the same insult from earlier, you don’t know why it annoys you so much, maybe it’s the assumption. Or maybe it’s because it should be obvious that you weren’t a freshman. 

“Want a tip? Look where you’re walking.” He says it with a bitter laugh, like he’s just so funny. 

Peter Parker seemed like a nice guy. You didn’t know him, sure, but when you watched him at parties he seemed nice and respectful. And sure, you get his discomfort but only to a certain level. You did break his personal space twice, but him berating you and making you feel like shit just because you weren’t paying attention was a dick move.

It was an accident, both times. And you apologized profusely, at this point it’s on him to not accept the apology and be bitter. It says nothing about you and everything about him. So, it’s only fair if you call him out on his bullshit and state the obvious, he was a dick that spewed too many pet names. 

It reeked of condescending and you didn’t have time for it. Maturely, you spun your back on him and redirected your attention on your phone. 

Immaturely, Peter asked if you backed down, thinking you couldn’t win in a pissing contest with him. 

You kept reminding yourself it spoke more about him than yourself, until you really didn’t understand the anger so you just have to ask. 

This message was sent privately. 

‘What the fuck is Parker’s problem and who hurt him?’

‘sig nu parker? i dunno, why?’ 

‘He’s a dick. Is he normally a dick or has he singled me out to be his hate train?’ 

‘why is parker picking on you?? no, he’s very nice. what did u do?’ 

‘I bumped into him twice and he keeps calling me freshman :(‘ 

‘well… u better kiss and makeup cause you guys are airplane buddies on the trip.’ 

You stare at your screen with an open jaw, Mrs. Caliban was wrong, it was a terrible year and it literally just started. 

‘Oh you’re fucking with me, right?’ 

‘... right, Ally?’ 

‘😶 ummmm i would lie, but there’s no point.’ 

‘Oh my god, take one for the team and just sit with me. You’ll survive without Matt for four hours.’ 

‘i would. i swear i would, but we already bought the seats, speaking of… i was praying for a miracle and pre-bought your seat soooo. 😬’ 

‘And Prince wasn’t a good enough option????????????????????’ 

‘ok, princess. to be FAIR we didn’t know you hated each other so…’ 

‘plenty of time to kiss and makeup tho!!!’ 

Feeling safe enough to turn around, you ease when he’s got his focus on his own phone. Safely avoiding each other, you can breathe better. 

‘Just so you know my current situation, he’s actively hating me so you kiss and makeup that.’ 

Until your shoes hit his, and he hits you with a cocky grin that sends your heart skipping. It’s unfair he’s so attractive, he can’t be mean and hot, they cancel out. Unless it’s on him, because then it’s down right tempting and frustrating. 

“This one’s on me, sweetheart.” 

Knowing you’ll have to keep the peace for at least three months makes it doable, and if you can keep it cool, then you could avoid each other peacefully. Until a five hour flight; with him, you’re rounding up. 

Peter’s offer makes you question his character. He went from hating you in a second to.. dare you say flirt? Yet again insinuating you’re a freshman, you were about to correct him but stopped. No use, he’d figure it out soon enough. He’d also find out his flight partner soon enough, and if you thought you were unhappy with the news, you couldn’t wait to see him blow up. 

You could see a backup plan written on his face. His attitude flipped in a second, he went from displeased to charming quicker than you’ve ever seen. 

It’s not right how much you wanted to give in, but you wouldn’t be so easy, especially after he’s been so mean. 

Calling him out on his bullshit, you could see he was humbled a bit. Not expecting his play to be announced step by step. What made it better was gaining the upper hand on him, this time you sent him away second guessing himself. 

Smirking, you pull your phone back out. 

‘Nvm, thought it over, Parker seems fun.’ 

‘oh. so he flirted with you.’ 

‘Now, why would you even say that?’ 

‘cause i know you, lol. also, he’s a tough guy to hate. it’s something about him.’ 

Well, you’ll just have to figure that out yourself. 

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH

The science building smelt like chemicals, a faint mixture of formaldehyde and bleach. It was oddly comforting and felt homey. Even if you felt like everyone around you was smarter than you, it didn’t feel intimidating. Everyone supported everyone in this hall. 

Your feet subconsciously match to the beat of the music flowing through your earphones, smiling at a person sharing the hallway when you curve around the corner. You liked biology just fine, so much so you’re minoring in it. 

But you could also admit that this particular semester was going to drag on. Field botany just wasn’t your thing. Plants were incredibly boring to you, they always have been. Save the planet, produce more trees, stop cutting them down, produce more oxygen, all those things. 

At the end of the day, learning about plants sucked the life out of you and you were feeling very neutral about the class. You followed a classmate through the door, grazing over the mostly empty room. It was smaller than you expected, you had the pick of the litter. 

Middle, middle row was the superior spot. Close enough to pay attention, but far enough to not gain it. Sitting in the center left you throw your bag in the seat next to you and start to set things up, pulling out your laptop, the class syllabus and a pen. 

Putting your headphones away and sitting straighter, you focus on the whiteboard, in rainbow bubble letters is your professor's name, ‘Dr. Thatcher.’ It’s cute, you grin at the small hint of personality. Watching students slowly fill in the back rows you sit straighter knowing your row would be next, hopeful your neighbors would be friendly. 

Your head turns when the seat next to you is filled, it’s a frat boy. 

“God, I am so fucking excited for this term, how about you?”

It’s Ethan Keznek. You never studied him, you knew who he was but you never actually noticed him, but looking into his eyes all you could think of was how long his eyelashes were. It seems like he’s noticing you too, he’s sly with it but he’s looking you up and down. 

“Plants aren’t my thing, but I’m assuming they’re yours?” 

A toothy smile, you can immediately tell he’s had braces before. He releases a breath before exploding, “god, they’re amazing, aren’t they? Self sustaining, self producing, they literally give us the air we breathe. How could you not find plants extraordinary?” 

Ethan’s eyes have a twinkle, it shows passion. You tilt your chin at him, “please tell me you’re majoring in botany, the world needs a lorax.” He breaks into a laugh, it’s charming and contagious, you smile with him. 

“Lucky guess, what’s yours?” 

You shift in your seat to face him better, “biology’s actually my minor, I’m majoring in english.” Ethan whistles, “big reader?” You nod, “if you ever need some recommendations, I’m your girl.” 

Ethan tilts his head and sticks his hand out, “Ethan Keznek, nice to meet you.” You stick your hand in his and shake it, it’s strikingly soft. You introduce yourself and his smile grows, “well,” he says your name and pauses, both of your eyes looking to the front when your new professor enters. 

He talks softly, “I will make it my personal mission to make you enjoy plants this semester.” You turn to focus on the front but talk out the corner of your mouth, “unless someone like you cares a whole lot…” 

You bite back a grin when you catch him laughing silently, both of you sitting in quiet when your teacher starts to introduce herself. She’s young and a redhead, everything about her seems symmetrical. Something tells you the semester wouldn’t be so bad. 

The class was an hour, followed by an hour lab. Class wasn’t bad, the first day was always easy, mostly introductions to the class, the work and the expectations. You stood and stretched before slowly repacking your belongings, Ethan working at the same speed, you assume to keep up with you. 

As he zipped his backpack, Ethan cleared his throat and looked at you. You raised your eyebrows and waited, “I know it’s the first day, but would you want to be my lab partner?” It’s the first time you’ve truly met him, but you feel nothing but comfortable around him, he’s kind. 

“It would be my honor.” 

—---------

Peter Parker was handsome, and pretty, and captivating and slightly mean. You couldn’t stay away from him, but his attitude was enough to make you question if he’s worth the frustration. 

You swore to yourself you’d go after him this year, you promised you’d get him into bed. But you can’t deny how good Ethan looked in a lab coat; even safety goggles couldn’t dim those green-brown eyes. 

“God I missed this, I was separated from test tubes and pipettes all summer.” 

You breathe out your nose as a laugh, “you’re one of those kids that lost his shit over getting a chemistry set for christmas, aren’t you?” He shakes his head, mouthing numbers as he counts his drops, looking at you and the sheet in front of you, bouncing back and forth until you catch the hint. 

“Oh!” You scribble the reaction, smiling when he corrects you. “It was a botany kit.” 

Looking over at him you can feel a tiny tug on your stomach, it felt like you were losing the plot from Peter. You wanted it to work with Peter, you didn’t really know him outside of surface value, but it felt like you did, and you know that sounds weird, but when he’s around you feel a bit more like yourself. 

But Ethan’s easy. “Of course it was.” Ethan’s back to measurements, “you doing anything Friday?” You nibble at your cheek, you know what he’s about to ask. “Nope, you?” He nods, “the frat’s doing freshman Friday,” Ethan looks over his shoulder to ask you, “planning on coming?” 

Peter may have asked you first, and you promised you’d be committed to the task, but if he viewed you as a backup plan, you should have one too. Not that Ethan was a second choice, he was just another option at this point. 

“Are you kidding? The Sig Nu freshman welcome is famous for a reason, you think I’d miss it?” Ethan diverted his attention to the PH chart on the page resting between you. 

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He cleared his throat and nodded at a test tube, “that’s a solid four, don’t you think?” You hold your hands up in surrender, “you’re the plant expert, lorax.” 

Your pencil is plucked from your hand, he writes his fours odd. He can’t stop making you smile, “well, unless someone like me cares a whole lot…” 

—---------------

The entire group was at your dorm. By the entire group you mean Ally, Matt, Prince, and Natalie. A pack of forgotten cards scattered on the floor, everyone focused on their red cups and speaking over each other. Sarah was unable to join in person, but she’s on a facetime call and jumping in when she can.

“On god, I’m gonna fuck my atonamy professor this year.”  You choked at Sarah’s comment, Natalie immediately cheering, “who is it?” Sarah bit her lip explaining, “just the hottest hunk of ass to exist. Dr. Youge, and trust me, I wanna go rogue, if you know what I mean.”

“Can confirm, he’s sexy.” 

Matt breaks from his twelve minute makeout with Ally, “Prince, you think everyone’s sexy.” He’s nodding accordingly, “because they are.” 

“Is this a good time to say Nate and I made it official?” The group overlaps in exclaims, Natalie in the hot seat for a second, her cheeks on fire. 

“When?!” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” 

“What?!” 

Natalie pushes her hair behind her ears, gold jewelry on display. “Um, well, basically he said he didn’t picture himself settling down but the idea of someone being able to swoop me up made him sick.” 

You and Ally form a chorus, Prince joins in halfway through while Matt claps his hands over his ears, “awwww.” He can’t stand the squealing, “yeah, yeah, yeah…” Matt kicks your knee, “did you know Harvey's coming on friday?” 

Interest piqued, you hadn’t known, but the promise of the night ending in sex was in your cards and it makes everything about the first week of school better. A reward, if you will. 

In two days you have three prospects, Mrs. Caliban was right, this was your year. “I didn’t but…” your eyes shoot to Prince’s, you’d claim dibs because he was yours first, but you didn’t want a hookup to cause a friendship to rift.

“Oh please, I was sloppy seconds. He’s yours.” You stick out your tongue, “why else would he come?” 

“The frat. To help the frat kick off the start of the year, because he's an alum. Of the frat.” 

Natalie scoffs, “Ally, tell your boyfriend he’s stupid. Harvey’s obviously coming for girly and girly alone. Your frat is just a cover up.” It wasn’t, but Matt was gullible and hell bent on proving you wrong. 

“No, it’s tradition. All the old chapter presidents come back after their first graduation. It’s a hello and goodbye thing, like a, um… what am I thinking of, babe?” Ally fixes a piece of his hair sticking straight up, “passing of the torch?” Matt’s thick hand squeezed her bum sending Prince gagging and Natalie blushing. “So fuckin’ smart, I love when you know what I’m thinking.” 

Natalie jumps up after looking at her cracked phone screen, “and I’m thinking Nate’s wondering where I am cause I forgot we had a date tonight.” Ally hissed in through her teeth, “play the ‘helped a crying friend’ card, say Matt and I got in a fight.” 

Matt stage whispers, “we didn’t have a fight, right?” His girlfriend shakes her head, patting at the tuft of hair sticking up from his scalp, “no, honey.” A grin cracks, “good-” Ally interrupts, “unless Nate asks, then we got in a fight and you made me cry.” 

“A total mess, she was weeping all over the floor. Natalie had to help me get her into bed.” Prince jumps in, “I was also there, and crying in support of the Matt strike.” 

“So, call you guys if I need to bury a body? Got it.” You speak over the group laugh, “yeah, right. Call Noa, she’d have that shit taken care of in an hour.” 

“No, but that’s actually so true.” 

“She’s scary but in a sexy way.” Matt groans, “again with the sexy, Prince, good lord.” 

“Everyone’s sexy! We’ve been over this!” 

Natalie slowly gathers her things, giving you and Ally a silent salute at the door, Prince and Matt bickering back and forth. Looking back at your laptop you shrug, Sarah’s made another silent escape. You wave to your friend watching the door creak open, Natalie doesn’t feel bad for missing out. Neither does Sarah, apparently. “Okay, have fun, byeee.” The door slamming made the boys stop, blinking aware and immediately forgetting why they were debating. 

The main squad together at last, you bring the real topics to the table. Clearing your throat and pouring a new drink, you look at the group. “So, Paul, what’s the inside scoop with the pledges and how do I make money out of this?” (As if you didn’t already know.)

Ally and Prince start speaking over each other. “Nope!” 

“Not happening!” 

“There’s a reason Matt doesn’t vote! He’s biased!” Matt plows right through, “thou shall not steal, it’s a commandment, babe.” You snort, “and what would I be stealing?” 

The blonde shrugs, “my knowledge.” 

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH

Sleep was tasting good today, you planned on sleeping in as long as you could. The type of sleeping where you get tired of sleeping and open your eyes wide awake and well rested. 

The keyword was planned, it’s been a nice summer off from Ally and Matt, because you forgot how they were early risers and were dependent on you for their enjoyment. 

“Hey, get up.” You politely ignore the request, it’s already too bright, Ally ripped the curtains apart so you’re hidden under your pillow. 

“Oh roomie, please rise.” Even when a pillow slams down on your butt you don’t move, you even attempt to hold your breath, hopeful they’d think you were dead and let your body decompose into your mattress. You wheeze for air and try to scramble from the bed when Matt throws himself on top of you, bouncing and pushing all his weight into you, rattling your name off like an impatient toddler. 

“I miss the days when Ally slept at the house,” you try and yell it out, it comes out in squeaks when Ally mounts Matt, “it’s my day off and I’m getting dogpiled!” 

“Get up! There’s belgian waffles at the dining hall!” You had the entire day to nap, there were waffles to be eaten. You wriggle around until the bodies on you disappear and you’re heaving for air. Throwing the blanket off and standing you give your friends a staredown before ripping your shirt off. Matt throws his hands over his eyes and screams, “thou shall not commit adultery, thou shall not commit adultery!”

“If you sleep here you see my boobs, Ally knows the rules!” Matt’s screaming at his girlfriend, “it’s a sin! Adultery is a sin!” Ally pushes his side, “you screamed sin before you saw nipple!” You’re changing clothes as fast as you can, if anything Matt would be scarred and keep Ally with him at his place, then you might be able to get some real sleep. 

“Sorry, Matt, but, uh… maybe if you sleep at your house you won’t see my boobs?” Ally gives you a glare from God himself, “Matty, this is what she wants. Next time, you better stare right at them.” Her boyfriend cries out, “no!” You roll your eyes, “all covered, you sinner. I’m ready for waffles.” 

Matt can’t even look at you in the eyes, a weary finger is pointed at your chest. “Temptation lives in you.”

—----------------

 If there wasn’t butter coating each small square in your waffle, there wasn’t enough butter. Noa Carter slides into a seat next to you, wiping syrup from your chin, you smile and take another bite. 

“Pledge secured?” Your eyes shoot around, looking for Ally and Matt, it eases your racing heart when they’re still in line loading up. 

“I’m meeting with Trent tomorrow night.” You feel gross, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do. “Do you think anyone’s gonna find out?” Noa chews on the straw from her ice coffee, “if Trent lets it slip to anyone else then Matt finds out, if he finds out Ally does, and once she knows, everyone knows.” 

“Fuck, I know. He can’t say anything, we- I mean, I have leverage.” 

“You think he can’t buy his way into school again?” You shake your head, speaking while you chew, “not without everyone knowing.” Noa tilts her head, she’s saying ‘fair point,’ with her motion. You grab her hand, “hey, thanks again. For the help, and keeping it between us.” 

Noa was nice, but not kind. She was a valuable resource for the group but made it clear she was into friendships for the transactional side. Noa could keep a secret, and she knew people in places you didn’t know existed, but if you used those talents she’d need yours in return. A deal with the devil each time you talk to her. 

“You’re indebted to me, you know that, right?” She was serious too, not fucking around while trying to get the last bit of coffee through the ice. You nod stiffly, it could be today or twenty years, but when she calls in that favor you have to abide. 

“Hey, Noa!” Ally’s always nice, Matt barely looks at her before shoving the corner of a waffle in his mouth. Noa looks at him in disgust and taps her knuckles on the table, “I'm out, see you later.” Ally pouts, “bye, Noa!” She smiles politely, “goodbye, Ally.” 

You thank her again with your eyes, “you coming to the party tomorrow?” Noa rotates her hand back and forth, giving you a so-so response. “We’ll see.” Watching Noa walk off you can understand how people find her both mesmerizing and scary, she carries herself in a way that screams she’s the smartest in the room and you believe it. 

“What are you wearing tomorrow?” You face Ally and watch her chew on a strawberry, “dunno yet, wanna dress me?” Her face lights up, nodding quickly she swallows, “I got this top over the summer and it’s gonna look so good on you!” Matt speaks staring at his phone, a gameplay blasting through his speakers. “Will Harvey Guyn find it hot?” 

If you could reach across the table you’d smack him, instead you finish your waffle. “Does he even have a room there, cause fucking on a twin is torture,” you look at your roommate, “unless we put the beds together…” 

Ally raises her hand to cover her mouth while she eats, “I’ll be sleeping with Matty at the house, when I come back Saturday afternoon, and the room is how it was when I left and my sheets are clean… I’ll be none the wiser to what happened.” 

You slide your plate away and reach your fork over the table to steal a banana slice, “I was joking but it’s nice to know you’re so-” you chew and stare at Matt while he rubs at his nose and wipes it on his pants; you look back at Ally and grimace. “-kind.”

“Harvey’s crashing in the chapter room, so unless you like a pull-out couch I recommend staying at yours.” You look at Ally, “what’s the chapter room?” You’ve never heard of it, or seen it. And you’re positive that besides the top floor where the members slept, you’ve been in every room of the house. 

“A secret room that no one but chapter officers are allowed to be in. I’ve seen it but I’ve never been inside. I tried one time and Matt told me to leave.” Eesh, if Matt kicked Ally out that means it’s a cardinal rule. “So even if I wanted to, I couldn’t sleep in there?” 

Matt nods, “correct.” Ally leans into her boyfriend and grabs his elbow, he keeps his focus on his phone while she whispers in his ear. Taking some time to look around the dining hall you recognized a few faces, waving at a girl you shared a few classes with last year. 

When you looked up to the upper level, you locked eyes with Peter. You were being sucked in and couldn’t stop. It was like he was telling you to come closer, come talk to him, like he’s inviting you to his table. The chatter in the room fizzled away, time stood still. It felt like your hearts were in sync, it felt like he was looking into you, it felt like you had a crush. 

It felt stupid to think anyone could come close to him. 

Peter wasn’t looking away, instead analyzing you the same way. He wasn’t sneering, he was curious. You never knew brown eyes could be so captivating, you wonder if he knew how dangerous he was. 

Forced to break away when Ally noticed, “who are we looking at?” You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want anyone to know. You stop her from turning, “I thought I saw someone I went to high school with,” you look back up, Peter disappeared. 

“False alarm.” 

-----

It was just you and Spider-Man in your room. 

His plush body laid across your chest, your arms wrapped tight around had flattened him. You spent your day watching Netflix, but after hours it became boring and you switched to scrolling through your phone, hopping between apps before you ended on instagram. 

You clutched Spider-Man tighter when you hit the search tab, his name popping up first. He never used his main account, three posts from the past two years. You found his burner account, it was set to private. You wanted nothing more than to push that request to follow, but he didn’t know you like that just yet. 

The second you were allowed to follow Peter Parker’s finsta, you’d plow through all one hundred and twelve posts, analyzing each one. You chew your lip for a moment and go to Ally’s page, searching through her followers you see his account, you debate on getting her phone and stalk that way, but it feels like cheating. 

It’s eight pm and you think nothing other than frozen yogurt would stop your obsession, so you grabbed your keycard and left Spider-Man to keep your spot warm. 

You had an early class the next day and a party with three people you could talk to, one of them being someone that would forsure be in your bed. If only Peter would have you in his bed first. If you were being honest, you’d love to see Peter fight for you. 

It’s only slightly exhausting being delusional. 

The food hall was dead and you went from mildly hungry to starving the second you smelled food, detoring for a quick sandwich you stuffed it in your bag before crossing the floor for your sweet treat. A prickle on the back of your neck told you to look to your left, at a table with his brothers, was Peter Parker. 

It felt like a gravitational pull, you manifested him being in your life since last year and it’s finally happening. The next time you and Prince go out you’re pulling him into a psychic’s shop for a reading. You were caught by who you think was Tarrent, if you remember correctly, he hooked up with Natalie your freshman year. 

Blue eyes met yours, just the smallest hint of a smile. It sent you turning your head and stepping behind the bathroom wall for a breather, hiding in embarrassment. You counted to thirty before peeking your head from around the corner, Tarrent kept your secret, no one was looking at you. 

This time, watching yourself, you don’t bump into anyone in line for frozen yogurt. You’d hate for another lesson in spatial awareness, unless it’s coming from Peter, in that case you’d take any kind of conversation. 

Even when he’s berating you he’s pretty. 

Leaving with your cup of dessert you watch Peter walk right by you, hearing his mumbles of a Beastie Boys song. You couldn’t help yourself, a chance at hello. It was an opportunity to have a normal conversation, maybe more of his shining character would come through. Taking a seat at a hightop near the bathrooms you wait until your target comes out. 

Humming at the taste of sugar hitting your tongue you look over to his table, you notice Ethan and you hope he doesn’t notice you too. To put it bluntly, you didn’t want Peter thinking he had competition. You don’t even consider Harvey Guyn as competition, he was just a good fuck. He didn’t get dinner with you or take you on dates, and you didn’t want that. At least not from him. 

Harvey’s conversations were dry and always built around impressing the people around him. He had great successes for someone his age, but daddy’s money didn’t impress you much.

You sit straighter when you hear the bathroom door open, listening to Peter mumble rap a chorus you jumped in, “another girl, another fight.” He jumped slightly, surprised to see you sitting right next to him. Taking another bite you stare in his eyes while you wrap your tongue around the spoon, Peter sounds breathless when he speaks. 

“Hey.” 

“Hello, Peter.” 

The look on his face told you if he didn’t notice you before, he did now. Did you just stand out from the crowd with one word? You think so. Peter clears his throat lightly, “and you are…” he wants you to fill in the blank, you find some joy in being mysterious, even if it’s just for another night. You pluck your spoon from your mouth, a wide smirk paints on your lips. 

“Happy to have a civil conversation with you?” It mildly annoyed him and it made your stomach tug, something about his expression made you happy to bother him. Until he called your bluff, you might have planned this one interaction but everywhere else he just seems to notice you. You’ve always had a wandering eye for him but he’s just now catching on. 

Giving him a scouts honor, you promise you haven’t been following him, because you haven’t. It’s that universal pull, each time you’re around him it’s like you’re tasting air while also being breathless. He’s pretty, too pretty for his own good. 

Peter’s tempting even when he’s slightly misogynistic, you think he likes your attitude. If there’s one thing you learned, it’s that a man likes it when he has to do a little chasing. You have an early class and Spider-Man at home. 

Sliding from your seat, your shoes squeak on the linoleum. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have an early class.” Dare you boldly claim he looked a little disappointed? It seemed like he was. You wish him a goodnight and he returns it, you can’t stop your satisfied smile when you feel him watching you leave. 

Quickly stomping up the stairs you look back at Peter’s table, you escaped with only one person looking back at you. Tarrent shoots you a wink, it wasn’t one that was directed at you, but directed at your actions. He knows nothing of you but you have his support, it makes you curious at best, cautious at worst. You stare at the floor until you reach the door, pushing out and taking in the fresh air. 

It didn’t feel as refreshing as when you were with Peter. You shrug it off, you already had someone waiting back at home. 

Spider-Man’s just as dependent on you as you are him.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 9TH

Morning classes sucked because they were in the morning. Morning classes were awesome because you felt like you focused better, and there was a better student to teacher ratio. Ally whined when your alarm went off, you stood with her in solidarity, because fuck waking up to a slow steady build of music. 

“Sorry, roomie.” 

Her hand poked from a blanket, waving you off from across the room. You weren’t sure if it was in annoyance or understanding. She had another hour before her class and she was planning to crush thirty of those minutes by hitting snooze. 

You moved quickly and quietly, only packing what was needed, and opting for an oversized university hoodie sans your bra. You believed in one thing, casual friday; and you honor it every week. Silently shutting your dorm door you cruise down the hallway, taking in the deep silence and empty scene. 

You weren’t a morning person at all, you preferred to wake up slowly and on your own terms, most times hitting snooze way too many times. But you loved the slow calm of the morning, watching the sun fully rise, hearing birds scream the earth awake, feeling empathy for every person with tired, puffy eyes. 

Morning’s were gentle, and sometimes you really enjoyed gentle. Friday was your creative writing class and you think it’ll be your favorite for the next year. 

Your hypothesis proved true because your professor was the hottest silver fox you’ve ever seen. Every fantasy of being bent over your teachers desk was racing through your mind, you didn’t know how you could ever pay attention. 

When he talks, his words curl around your ears, a stubble buzz in your stomach makes you focus in on his lips, watching them pout around ‘S’s. “Hey,” she was late, but Noa was there. “Hey,” you whisper back. 

Her smirk is devilish, “talk to Trent yet?” It’d be a punishment until you finished your plan, then she’d let it die. It’s something to do with making her efforts worth it, and making you owe her a favor. You almost regret asking her, but the payoff is worth the narcissism. 

Since freshman year, you, Ally, Prince and Natalie made a bet on one person rushing to make it into full recruitment. Sarah joined last year but backed out this year, she’d be too busy in her nursing classes, she made it pretty clear she’d be absent this year. 

When it started everyone pitched in a hundred bucks, Natalie won. Last year everyone pitched in five hundred, Ally won. You love your friends, but it left a sour taste in your mouth that people who didn’t need the extra pocket money won. 

You weren’t lying when you had a summer job, but it was quickly drained with class and book payments. None of your friends had to worry about that. So, when you found out that your high school friend's ex-boyfriend's little brother was rushing for Sigma Nu, a plan formed. 

You upped the stakes this year, big time. Tripling the honey pot by three, fifteen hundred each. That was half of your summer job money, but the payoff was worth the temporary loss. You had an in at the frat and you knew how much the competition games meant, being number one fraternity was the most important thing for Sig Nu, especially after losing it last year to Alpha Delta. 

Next step was getting someone to secure the information, enter Noa. She had cracked into every frat on campus and gotten the files, printed them out and completed the job with a pretty folder. It was Noa’s idea to get dirt on Trent, you commended her for her smarts, she claimed she just really hated him. 

The real plan was making sure your pledge made it in and no other friends won so you wouldn’t have to share the honey pot. It was skeevy and made you feel slightly dirty, but sometimes you have to play in the mud so you can eat dinner for the year. 

As long as no one found out, you’d be okay. Although, deep in your heart you know that while your friends would feel betrayed at first, they’d understand and come around. Mostly because Matt would use some christian wisdom on them and smite them into forgiveness. 

“Tonight.” Noa nods, “you impress me, friend. You really, really do.” You give a nervous smile at your new professor when he calls you out for talking, with his wise smirk, you believe Peter Parker may have some competition. 

—----------------

At fifteen past four, you got the message you’ve been waiting on, you bit your lip and opened the text, the contact saved as Harvey G. 

‘You’re coming to the party tonight, right?’ 

‘Just for you 😊’ 

‘I love when you lie to me, it really gets me going.’ 

‘You know what gets me going? Fucking you on a twin XL.’ 

‘Dirty talk, that’s my girl.’ 

‘Wear something pretty for me and I’ll let you call me daddy tonight.’ 

‘You wish.’ 

You’d be wearing something pretty tonight, but not for Harvey. You were dressing up for the pure intention of catching Peter Parker’s eye. It was a personal mission to turn you from a backup plan to number one, worse comes to worse, you’d pull out the best friend card and use Ethan as a pawn. Harvey was a set hookup, you didn’t need to impress him with anything. You’ve never even slept in the same bed, and you didn’t care to. He looked like a snorer. 

Sending a quick text to Ally to try and figure out the game plan, she responds with a very general answer, so you text Prince to come over and entertain you. He responded with a salute emoji, ‘prepare to be entertained.’ 

—--------

You and Prince are tilting your head at the same angle, you’re trying to make sense of what you were seeing but the proportions weren’t adding up. It didn’t seem natural, you block out the exaggerated moaning and follow in tilting your head the opposite way when the camera switches positions. 

“I mean… that couldn’t… feel good… right?” Prince is looking for your opinion, you nod with him. “Yeah, I don’t… this can’t be real, right?” It’s like you've been heard, the camera angle changes and you’re staring at a man’s asshole as he piledrives into his female co-star. Prince gasps with you, “oh my god! How is she doing that?!” You whistle low, “drugs, Prince. Lots and lots of drugs.” Suddenly, Prince becomes interested. 

“You know, sometimes I forget how much the female body amazes me.” You narrow your eyes, “call me a female again, I dare you.” Prince’s voice squeaks, “no thank you, you powerful, beautiful woman.” You pat his green hair, “good boy.” 

For once, Ally entered into your dorm without Matt following behind. Prince clapped and told her he was proud she could walk inside all by herself. Her response was, “aw, you’re so cute when you’re lonely.” Prince pretended to bite her.

“So,” Ally opened her tote bag and pulled out a paper bag filled with Sammi’s Sandwiches. “Wanna eat and get ready?” Prince starts bowing, you follow suit.

 “All hail queen Ally.” 

“Damn right, bitches.” 

The second you took your last bite Ally had you in front of your closet mirror while she stood behind you with two shirts on hangers, alternating to hold up each one over your torso. 

“Ugh, I wanted you in the green but I think the black would be better.” “Yeah, I think if I hang around Prince it’ll be too much green, ya know?” Prince coughed and breadcrumbs spewed. “I’m sorry, you think you’ll be hanging out with me instead of Harvey?” 

“I can’t exactly go in there, grab him, and get out, can I?” Your roommate nods while she fixes your hair, “you absolutely can, I do it with Matty all the time.” You roll your eyes at her in the mirror, “that’s different, you guys are like… common law married at this point.” 

Prince is sitting sideways in a chair letting the blood rush to his head, he sits up slightly and slips out a possibility while you adjust your bra strap. “What are the chances Harvey gets so plastered tonight you won’t hookup?” 

The elastic snaps on your shoulder when you give him a cold glare, “don’t even try to be funny.” He grins wickedly and presses his thumbs to his middle fingers, “not funny, babe. Manifesting.” 

Ally has to hold you back when you lurch at him. 

—--------------

You’re lucky you have Prince to keep Ally occupied, you’re a little too lost in your thoughts as you all walk towards frat row. Keeping your arms to your chest you conserve heat, it’s starting to get chilly at night. The first thing you wanted to do was get Trent out of the way, then you’d chat with Ethan while you scope the scene for Peter. Oh god, Harvey. You had too many men to entertain tonight, it would be near impossible to keep them from bumping into each other outside your revolving door. 

You just had to play calm and make a game plan. Number one would be Trent, number two would be Harvey, so you could make plans for after the party, number three would be Ethan and certainly not least, you’d be keeping an eye on Peter Parker. Your palms feel clammy thinking about your secret with Trent, you push each plan back by one. The first step would be getting some liquid courage. Brought back to life by gentle bantering, your opinion is needed. 

“I could totally ice Matt out, right?” 

“Bro, I have two hundred on it right now.” 

“You think I can’t live without him?” You butt in, “no, but you can’t let him think you’re mad at him. Even when you’re fighting you tell him you’re not mad at him. It’s gross.” Prince nods while Ally gasps in offense, “I’d love to see it, I think he’d have a mental breakdown.” 

“Is it so terrible of me that I don’t like making my boyfriend sad?” 

You hang an arm around Ally’s neck and pull her in, “it makes you a better girlfriend than I could ever be.” She giggles and hangs onto you, “I think frat boys like that, maybe it’s time you start sleeping with a member and not alumni.” 

You’re not hiding anything out of spite, but because you felt like you wanted to figure it out on your own. And she’s a little pushy, if you were to spill on Peter before ready she’d try everything possible to get Matt involved. Sometimes Ally’s wingmanning ruined potential hookups, and by sometimes, it’s every time. “Ha. Good one.” 

Prince steps in to hand his arm around your neck, you three of you stumbling in unison. “Don’t worry, friend. You’ll have your pick on the ski trip.” You flashed a smile, following a crowd of bodies across the crosswalk.

Letting each other go when you hit the first frat house you fix your shirt. Ally was right, it looked really good on you.

There were at least forty kids waiting to get in, only two members on door duty. Following freshmen up the steps you smile at a brother, Prince pays his entrance fee while you hold hands with Ally. 

You take a deep breath, and release it when you step in the house.

Welcome to the start of the year.

[justsayuluvmetn]

haechan needy boyfriend

pairings → bf!haechan x afab!reader

warnings  →  18+, masturbation, oral (f receiving), use of mommy, slight dirty talk, mentions of somnophilia

word count  → 1.3k

--------------------------------------------------------

The bedroom you and Haechan shared was dim. You were snuggled into your blankets, sound asleep, as Haechan flipped through the pages of his book.

After finishing his last chapter for the night, he put the book to the side and propped himself up on his elbow as he watched you sleep. He doesn't realize it, but he does this often. Looking at you sleeping peacefully next to him makes him feel at ease. While keeping his gaze on you, Haechan flickers the lamp off and lies next to you.

"You’re so pretty. Even when you sleep." Haechan whispers as he plants a soft kiss on your forehead.

Turning over to scroll through his phone one last time before he goes to sleep, he notices a post from a friend of yours. It was a throwback post from the beach trip the group took last summer. When Haechan's eyes found you wearing the bikini you wore that day, he instantly bit his lip. He remembers exactly how he felt. You looked stunning. Haechan found himself hiding in the water most of the day to hide his erection from you. Sadly, it was before the two of you were dating, so he obviously couldn’t tell you how sexy he found you in the bikini you had on.

Haechan stared at the photo a little longer, feeling his cock harden as the dirty thoughts clouded his mind. The more he thought about it, he realized that it had been two weeks since you two had sex. Haechan didn't let that affect him until this very moment. Suddenly, he needs your attention. He desperately misses your touch.

Rolling over onto his stomach, Haechan turns his head towards you as he slowly starts rocking his hips into the mattress. Biting his lip to suppress the soft whimpers trying to leave his mouth. Grinding into the mattress, pretending it was you. Soon these thoughts become difficult, causing him to turn on his back. Using his finger to draw circles around his tip, he teased himself. Haechan's whimpers become less suppressed.

"Does that feel good, baby?" You asked as you shifted to rub your eyes. Surprising him in the process.

"Oh- Y/N. I’m Sorry. It feels too good. I’m going to cum soon." Haechan moans back to you. You reach out your hand to stop him. Groaning, he looks deep into your eyes while sticking out his lip.

"You woke me up." You began. "Babyyy, I’m sorry. I just got so turned on by a photo of you, and it made me miss you so so so much." Cutting off a whining Haechan, you looked him in the eye sincerely.

"Ohhh, I see. Do you need my attention? Do you miss me or the way I touch you?" You ask mockingly. "I-I miss both, but I need to touch you." He tells you.

"Is that what you were thinking about when you were touching yourself?" cocking an eyebrow at him, he shook his head in return. "I was thinking about teasing you while you were... sleeping." He got quieter as he reached the end of his sentence. Despite that, you heard him loud and clear. You loved when Haechan took control, which is why you haven’t had sex. As much as you love dominating him, you miss being touched by him. The two-week break was your silent protest to get Haechan to make a move on you. It felt like forever to you, but it finally worked.

"Hyuck.. Baby, we talked about this before. You always have my consent. There's a reason we have a safe word, and I’ll use it if need be." You took his face in your hands when he gave you a look of embarrassment. "Don’t be embarrassed now." Your thumbs glide over his cheeks as you lean in to kiss his soft lips.

Haechan pulls you onto his lap, causing you to deepen the kiss. Tugging at his hair, you begin to roll your hips, and Haechan lets out a loud groan. Pulling away, Haechan looks deep into your eyes. "I want to touch you so bad. Please let me play with you." He pleads.

Biting your lip, you pretend to consider his proposal. Of course you want him to touch you, but deep down, you still want control over him. "Only if you beg for it. I don’t know if you deserve it considering you woke me up at 2am to your pathetic moans." While it’s true that his moans were pathetic, they were also so pretty.

"Please let me touch you. Please." His begging was almost as pathetic as his moans. "You’re going to have to do better than that Hyuckie."

"Please, I promise to make you feel good, baby; please let me touch you." You roll your eyes, but really all you want is to rip your clothes off and let him get to work. "Are you even trying?" Haechan looks at you with hunger. Pulling you into a deep kiss, using one hand to keep your head still and the other to play with your already hard nipples. A small whimper leaves your lips.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he said, "See? I know how to make Mommy feel good. Don’t I?" You gulp at the name. He’s never called you that before. Haechan chuckles at you. "It looks like I was right."

Snaking your arms around his neck as you pull him back into another deep, lustful kiss, you say, "So make Mommy feel good, baby." Grinning widely, Haechan flips you onto your back.

Moving to the bottom of the mattress, Haechan pushes your legs apart. "You look so good waiting like this, Mommy. I could cum just from looking at your pretty pussy." Your stomach churned as Haechan bent down to press kisses along your stomach. "H-hyuckie, why are you teasing me?" You pout. He looks up at you but only smiles and continues on his way down to your heat. You let out a quiet groan when his lips leave your body. Taking his index finger lightly to your clit, you jerk forward at the new sensation. "What a slut. Making me beg, but you react like that to the slightest touch. Maybe you should beg." Haechan suggests.

Your eyes grow wide, not expecting him to say that. He’s full of surprises tonight, but so are you. "Hyuck, please touch me. Please, only you can make me feel this good. I need you to touch my pussy. I’m so wet for you, Hyuck. Don’t you want a taste?" You pout at a taken-back Haechan.

You were soaking. Haechan knew you were right when you said you were wet for him. You threw your head back as Haechan easily caved into your begging. He lightly blew on your wet clit leading you to sharply inhale, but you let out a breathy moan as he connected his tongue to your clit. While his tongue laps at your clit he looks up at you with big eyes through his eyelashes.

"You look so pretty like this, Hyuck." You praise him, using your hand to push his head down. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, but you can see his cheeks begin to flush pink. Throwing your head back with closed eyes, you moan. "F-fuck Hyuckie, that feels so good, I’m going to cum." Taking fistfuls of his hair as he sucks tightly on your clit. "Cum on my tongue, Y/N. Please, baby, let me taste you, remember?"

Even in this moment, he’ll still beg you.

His tongue may be making you moan, but his words are what caused the tight knot in your stomach to explode all over Haechan's pretty face. Breathing heavily, you sit up to kiss him tasting yourself. "That felt so good, Hyuckie." You smiled softly.

[slrsunfire]

Here's a little snippet for the upcoming chapter of The Springtime of Lovers! Having a lot of fun with this...I promise that it's not going to be as bad for Tobirama as this little blurb makes it seem ❤️

This is not formally edited, so please be merciful.

Warnings: sexist/genderist ideals, allusions to future forced intimacy, a/b/o dynamics, discussions of pregnancy

Snippet Below:

“Came out to enjoy the leaves while you read?” Hashirama lightly asks, trying for nonchalant but failing spectacularly in his efforts. 

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Tobirama tersely states in return, his words edging on biting. “Someone needs to look over the talking points the Uchiha have requested we address during our meeting next week and it might as well be me.” 

Hashirama has enough common sense to pick up on his ire over the fact it is Tobirama, and not Hashirama, that has chosen to do so. His older brother nervously clears his throat in response, clearly taking care with his choice of words, and Tobirama has to restrain the impolite urge to grind his teeth in frustration. 

“Ah…” Hashirama nervously laughs a little. “I forgot I need to look those over.”

His brother at least has the decency to sound suitably embarrassed by his lapse, but it is paltry compensation for Tobirama’s ongoing troubles. 

“Anija—” Tobirama starts and then trails off in favor of tilting his eyes heavenward, exasperated by his brother’s distracted state. He understands it to an extent, but as an alpha and the leader of their clan, Hashirama needs to do better. Tobirama will not be around to keep Hashirama on track any longer in just a year’s time, and his brother needs to be prepared. At the very least, Mito-san seems to be a competent shinobi in her own right and is likely to act as a more than capable advisor for Hashirama in Tobirama’s stead once she finally departs from Uzushio to wed his brother two months hence.

Despite his irritation he finds himself relaxing ever so slightly as his alpha brother’s pine scent begins to naturally fill the air around them, and he glances askance when Hashirama releases a soft but guttural sound of true remorse. 

“I’m sorry, Tobirama,” Hashirama apologizes, looking suitably repentant. “I’ll look them over once you’re done, I promise.” 

“That one is already finished.” Tobriama quickly gestures to the scroll farthest from him. “I’ve left comments, so you can see if you have any yourself to add.” He is gratified to watch Hashirama reach for it almost immediately, though he can tell his brother is disquieted by its contents when the alpha’s brown eyes flicker over the scroll’s telling title and Hashirama’s fingers tighten around it ever so slightly.

Tobirama had experienced similar trouble reading through it as well. The scroll is one of two the Uchiha had sent regarding their proposed conditions regarding Tobirama’s eventual role within the clan, particularly his duties to the main house and the allowances he would be given. 

His older brother releases a low, gusty sigh a moment later that only heightens Tobirama’s unease with how markedly restrained it is. “Thank you, Tobirama. Are the terms fair?”

The question makes Tobirama immediately still in surprise. He genuinely does not know what to say, he realizes. 

He does not think it fair in the slightest that he is expected to honor a contract that by all rights should have been invalidated the very moment the Uchiha and Senju broke faith with one another following its drafting. There are strict terms that have been suggested, most of which Tobirama suspects are elements put forth by the Uchiha elders who hold no love for him. None of it is exactly unexpected, nor unwarranted considering the history their two clans share. Until no longer deemed necessary, the Uchiha want him followed from sunrise to sunset if he decides to depart from the main house at any point in time. To add insult to injury, all of his correspondence to the Senju or other outside parties is to be reviewed first by Madara, or in his husband’s stead, Izuna. If his rival is not available to do so, then the responsibility will fall to one of the elders. None of these options is particularly palatable to him considering how private an individual he naturally is. And as for his marital duties…

“I suppose,” Tobirama reluctantly concedes, trying not to sound too bitter. “They intend to provide me with my own rooms. But I am to decorate and outfit them with whatever finery my eventual trousseau contains. The Uchiha also request that my dowry consists of additional cloth bolts or coinage to cover future clothing purchases in addition to whatever pre-made clothing I bring. I am, unsurprisingly, to furnish suitable sets of quality maki-e tableware, among other frivolous items for entertaining and the like.” 

Hashirama nods, losing a bit of the tension that had lined his shoulders. “That all sounds rather run of the mill. Well, aside from the coinage aspect. Madara really should be the one tending to your future clothing. We will argue against that, I think. But you know I will make sure your trousseau is well outfitted and you want for nothing, little brother.” 

“I know Anija,” Tobirama murmurs, secretly touched by the alpha’s determination to look after him despite Tobirama’s own continuing protestations that he does not need much. His brother’s tender words are still not quite enough to keep his lips from pursing ever so slightly in frustration as he considers the more humiliating conditions that have been proposed for his person. “Except—” 

Hashirama’s gaze is unnaturally serious as he cocks a brow at him, the alpha clearly picking up on his unease. “Yes?” 

“They are demanding I provide Madara with no less than six children—more if any of the pups die in their infancy,” Tobirama admits, forcing his voice to remain even, though he knows his eyes have narrowed in such a fashion that his agitation will be made clear to his brother all the same. “They want me to carry one child a year until the quota is met, barring illness or other mitigating circumstances.” 

He knows it’s meant to keep him on his back long enough that his sharp edges might dull some. As long as Tobirama is kept gravid and barefoot within Madara’s home, he is far from being a full threat to the Uchiha. Perhaps they believe it will also serve as a means of humiliation, which is not entirely untrue. Though the Uchiha and Senju are like most shinobi clans in that they allow omega members to fight on the field and hold certain positions of power, they are not entirely devoid of genderist discrimination. Omega shinobi are still seen as being weaker and expected to act properly deferential to alpha clanmates who naturally hold more sway by nature of their secondary designation. As an outclan omega, Tobirama suspects he will be seen as lesser than the Uchiha’s own omega members, even though in title he will hold the respected position as clan matriarch and Madara’s wife. 

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 594, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character, injured baby, kidnapped child

WORDS: 1050

“There are the Ratajczyk babies now!”

Peter and I were both watching grainy security footage as police officers crawled all over the Chuck E Cheeses location. We watched as Governor Paul Thomas Grantsville came into frame, picking up Baby Noah before turning to walk off. Little girl latched onto his leg and wouldn’t let go until he reached down to pull her off, rewarding him with a strong bite on his hand. Baby Tommy zipped of, probably to go find his daddy as the governor shook his hand, gritting his teeth as he finally threw off the child, hurling her into a wall. He then turned on his heel and disappeared around the corner. Little girl picked herself up, clearly dazed as she wobbled about on her two feet before promptly breaking down into messy tears.

“That’s my girl!” Peter chuckled, fond pride on his face.

“Peter,” I grounded him with a stern voice before turning to the chuckling police officer in the room. “What happens now?”

“We’re looking for the governor’s properties and we will dispatch officers to go pay him a visit.”

“Oh,” I whimpered out from my place on Peter’s lap, tucking my face into his manly chest. “My love, do you think we can try for a restraining order?”

“If I may interject myself here, any judge would be a fool to turn away your request for legal protection.”

“Thanks,” Peter grunted, pressing a whiskery kiss to my temple before standing and exiting the cramped back room with me cradled lovingly in his muscular arms. “I’m taking you and the kids home now- it’s best to allow the professionals to work now.”

The only thing that left my lips was a choked cry before tears began to freely flow down my face as I pressed myself in deeper into his chest.

After we all had been tucked away in the car, I thought to call James- he and his husband had both been whisked away to Mercy Memorial in an ambulance, Ryley having been called and on standby to tend to her uncle’s goddaughter.

“Yeah, she suffered a concussion, and she’s been ordered to take it easy for the next six weeks,” James told me, his voice a mixture of worry and pride. “A police officer swabbed her month- she bit the sonofabitch so hard that she drew blood. The DNA evidence will be used to help identify the perpetrator.”

“We’re bringing little girl’s presents with us to our house,” I told him as Peter began to approach the car with his arms full of presents. Little Christopher trotted off at his side, helping with packing the gifts into the back of the Doom Buggy 3.0. “You or Aaron can come by and grab them whenever is best.”

“Thank you, Mary Claire.” I could only picture him slumping in a chair in an exam room with Ryley working her doctor witchcraft on little girl. “What would I ever do without you?”

“You’d be single and childless,” I told him bluntly, barking out a laugh at the look I felt him shooting me. “Well, you did ask me!”

“Mommy, is liddle gurl okay?” Baby Tommy meeped out, chewing on his little baby fist.

“Little girl’s head suffered a booboo,” I told him as Peter climbed into the driver’s seat and strapped on his seatbelt. “Hihi my love.”

“Hihi sweetheart,” he greeted me in a gentle rumble. “Are you on the phone with Aaron?”

“I’m actually on the phone with James,” I gently corrected him.

“Daddy, liddle girl got a booboo on her head!” Baby Tommy spilled the tea as Peter pulled out from his parking spot, being careful not to run over any of the kids.

“A booboo?” Peter gasped, coming to a halt at a red light. “Poor little girl.”

“She’ll be alright, my love,” I told him, retucking my cell phone back into my bra and reaching across to settle my hand onto his tense knee. “Kids always bounce back- they’re resilient that way.”

“I know they are sweetheart,” he chuckled, taking off when the light turned from red to green. “Bitty when she suffered that knot on the side of her head, Katie after CPS stepped in and took her away from her parents, little girl after that despicable excuse of a human being broke in and threatened to harm her, little girl after that racoon attacked her, little girl after she was born on the toilet…”

“Alright my love, I get it, I get it!” I told him, wrinkling my nose up at him as he turned onto the freeway to take his family home once more.

My babies are so strong and loving, I thought as I glanced behind me, seeing Baby Tommy sandwiched between Baby Mattie and Baby Teddy and Elizabeth and Elle, Baby Jojo and Katie and Jing in the very back. Please don’t grow up so quickly. Can you please remain as mommy’s sweet babies for just a little bit longer?

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[sharperthewriter]

Chapter 16 of the 16th Annual KP Fannies Awards

Chapter 16 – A Change in the Winds

(March 13, 2021, the Caribbean, 12:45pm)

Drew Lipsky stared at the massive, gift-wrapped package on his residential lair's doorstep, his teeth grinding as he observed the telltale red and black ribbon. He finally dropped his gaze to the accompanying postcard in his hand and read the messy scrawls on the back.

"Thought I'd share some of my supply, as I know you don't have the connections to acquire any once the stores run out. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything, neighbor!"

He flipped the card to the front and stared briefly at the custom-printed photo of the late middle-aged man wearing maroon swim trunks and an extremely out of place military helmet, his graying chest hair on full display while his arm was around a much younger woman clad in a hologram-silver crisscross halter bikini that was rather revealing at the lower part of the top. Both of the pair wore sunglasses and smug grins as they lounged on a beach.

"Drew? What's this?"

The former super-villain crumpled the card from Dementor and tossed it to the ground as his wife looked from the package to his face seething in anger. Sheila Lipsky stepped over to the doorstep and tore open the wrapping on the package, and the both of them blinked at what their arch-rival had sent them.

"Toilet paper," Drew said.

"Stop grinding your teeth!" Sheila said in annoyance, rolling her eyes and leaving the package to later be collected by a henchman, taking Drew's hand and dragging him back inside with her.

"Why didn't he stay in Greece!? He's never used his lair out here. He only bought it in the first place to irritate me!"

"Then stop letting it get to you, and maybe he'll leave," she countered as they returned to the living room.

A brief command given to an employee on the intercom saw that the toilet paper would be safely tucked away, and Sheila forced her husband down to the sofa where she soothed him first by running her hands through his hair, her fingernails gently raking his scalp, before she grabbed the TV remote and turned on the news for distraction.

"…And we repeat this urgent broadcast, that the Governor-General has ordered all citizens to stay in their homes unless conducting necessary or emergency affairs. A list of what constitutes 'necessary' and 'emergency' can be found on the government website, in addition to a list of businesses required to close for the next two weeks…"

Sheila looked at Drew, whose brow had risen in surprise. She snuggled into his side and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Guess we're not going to work for a while," she said, her tone suggestive.

Drew felt the heat under his collar and leaned his head against hers in response. But when she glanced up at his face, she could tell his mind was elsewhere.

"Cat got your tongue?" she teased, shifting to slide her knee over his so she sat across his lap, facing him. She set her hands on his shoulders. "Do I need to loosen it up for you?"

"Sheila," he interrupted, just before she could kiss him, "this is pretty serious."

She glanced over her shoulder at the TV and then shrugged, smirking as she moved toward his face again.

"If I were to run the numbers…this could be potentially the deadliest plague since the Spanish flu."

"Suddenly you're a microbiologist?" she teased again.

"It could wipe out millions of people!"

Sheila sat back and looked at him as he continued.

"And, haven't you found it strange that this has been worsening for months, and yet the organization we work for, Global Justice, seems to be trying to downplay it as nothing? All we've been called for lately are menial assignments!"

"They are boring, I'll admit," Sheila began, but Drew interrupted her.

"I'm going to call Director," he said decisively, stretching his arm across the sofa to grab the landline. "This is absurd."

Sheila waited as the phone rang, considering the facts. Until this past week, there hadn't seemed to be too much attention on the supposedly deadly virus. As for Global Justice, they had determined where the virus had originated and then seemingly dropped the case. Dementor had been shown to be innocent in terms of the accidental release of the plague, though he had clearly aided VILE in developing it. And the Bavarian lair's new owner, some chump going by Game Controller, had vanished not too long after the initial knowledge of the disease.

"I'm being transferred," Drew said impatiently, and Sheila raised a curious brow. A moment later Drew spoke into the phone. "Hello? Who is this? …Why can't I speak with Dr. Director? What, do you…don't you know who I am? Never-mind."

Drew hung up the phone with a scowl and pulled out his cell.

"What happened?"

"I got transferred to some no-name plebe who said Director is unavailable indefinitely," he said as he pressed the speed-dial to the boss's home number. It rang twice and then was answered. "Hello, Dr. Director? Yes… Oh."

Drew's brow furrowed and he met Sheila's eyes in a way that caused her to sit up straighter in attention. Especially when the pinch of his uni-brow rose upward as his forehead crinkled in worry.

"Yes…I understand…" he said into the phone, fixing wide eyes on Sheila. She gestured to him to put the call on speaker and he grimaced slightly. "Dr. Director— Sorry, can my wife listen in? Thank you."

"Shego," the voice through the phone greeted her with the now rarely-used name. "I was just explaining to your husband that I've contracted TEVID-20."

Sheila's eyes widened. "Oh."

"I feel like a knife is driving deeper into my back with each breath, and like an elephant is sitting on my chest."

Dr. Director's voice broke off into a devastating cough, and with a sinking feeling Sheila realized that her teasing of Drew mere minutes before seemed in poor taste. To her knowledge, their boss was the first person they actually knew to be ill with the disease. But that didn't mean that perhaps millions of people, as he had said, weren't suffering similarly.

"Are you receiving treatment?" she asked after a moment of pause.

"Some drugs that are showing to be effective, depending on who you talk to. But you know the political game is already being played around this."

Sheila rolled her eyes as Drew shook his head. One benefit of having been villains was they never had to bother with taking a side in anything above-board. As Global Justice agents, there was an implied rhetoric they were supposed to vomit out in regards to this sort of thing. It was one of many aspects of the legitimate lifestyle that Sheila disliked.

"Is this why you've not been pursuing that kid and trying to lock down VILE's virus lab?" Drew asked point blank of their boss.

Another series of coughs was the response through the phone, and then, "Drakken… Shego… I can't look into it."

"What are you talking about?" Sheila asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Global Justice can't get too involved. Like I said, the political game is being played…worldwide."

Sheila scoffed and leaned back from where she'd been embracing Drew's neck and crossed her arms. She didn't see the problem in tossing a dozen or more VILE and Henchco goons into prison for what Drew said could be devastating to the entire world. Surely agreement could be found in that. But before she could spew her frustrations, her husband was continuing.

"The medical labs aren't even studying it or working on treatments?"

"They are, but we're law-bound to the World Health Organization. There's only so much we'll be allowed to share, one way or the other."

It was Drew's turn to scowl, his teeth bared in frustration as on the TV beyond them graphs showing the count of cases and deaths reported was rotating for each country, the thick red line climbing almost exponentially for each day that had passed.

"Off the record...I'm as frustrated as you are Dr. Drakken."

"Why are you calling us that? We haven't gone by those names in years," Drew replied quizzically.

There was silence on the other end of the phone line, broken by a few coughs and then a painful inhale of breath.

"I wish I could do more in this pandemic. But in my…position…my hands are tied," Betty replied.

Sheila and Drew exchanged a look.

"I'm sure you have plenty to do in your enforced quarantine," she continued a moment later. "I hope we'll speak again. Goodbye Drew, Sheila."

The line went dead on another cough, and the colorful couple blinked at each other for a long moment, the only sound in the room the grave voice of the newscaster on the TV behind them.

"I know I'm not good on picking up subtleties…" Drew began, "but was she implying what I think she was?"

Sheila swallowed slowly and then set her hands back on her husband's shoulders, her fingers kneading the flesh while her expression became serious.

"Dr. D…."

"Bedroom nicknames on the sofa? Oh, goody!"

Sheila smirked at his teasing but continued. "Have you ever…missed the freedom of villainy?"

Drew's impish grin faded into thoughtfulness as he regarded her.

"It would be horribly ironic to shirk our good names only to save the world…again."

Sheila glanced at the TV behind them, and then looked back into his eyes. "It's gonna be that serious?"

He nodded gravely, and this time she didn't tease him.

"And you really think you can do it? Find a cure?" she continued.

He was silent a long moment, and then he sighed. "I couldn't live with myself thinking it was possible, and I didn't try."

Sheila nestled against him again, smiling when this time his arms encircled her. She tilted her head to the side and kissed his jaw. And then familiar, dark look flitted through Drew's eyes.

"No one and nothing takes over this world but me."

Sheila's smile grew and her heart thudded within her chest.

"It might drive Dementor out of retirement in jealousy."

Drew gave a brief chuckle and stroked his chin thoughtfully. Sheila inhaled and spoke bravely.

"So what do you say...Dr. Drakken?"

He kissed her soundly before giving her a devilish grin.

"I think it's time we give our 'employees' their henchmen uniforms back, Shego."

A/N: Note for future chapters: the name of character 'Glame Dover' has been changed to 'Graeme Dover.' Past chapters have been adjusted accordingly.

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

half past five high - chapter 2 (lies upon lies)

Mingyu x fem!reader, Joshua x fem!reader

Genre: smut, a bit of fluff 

Warnings: rough sex, unprotected sex (stay safe), creampies, overstimulation, hair pulling, manhandling, degradation, cheating, lying (again)

Word count: ~2.5k (I think)

Summary: The little secret affair of Mingyu and reader continues...in her house, right under Joshua’s nose.

Author’s note: Chapter 2 is here and it’s even smuttier than the first one - enjoy ;)

Taglist: @delicatewerewolfsoul @aliceu @husbandhoshi @wonwoosthetic @berrryshortcake @boowanie @mangogyu @billboard-singer @gaebestie @jaeyux @aurumness  @chwebychew

It’s been two weeks since you came back to Korea and you’ve barely seen Joshua in these fourteen days - again.

It felt as if these days had passed in a blur, but at the same time, excruciatingly slowly. Even the last minute flight you had taken from Paris was like a distant memory stored in the back of your brain.

He has been insanely busy, trying to set up his first ever exhibition and the preparations have been time and energy consuming before comprehension. Of course, you were happy for him, because all of his hard work has finally paid off, but shopping around Seoul and socializing is still not enough to cover the sentimental void of his absence - although ‘socializing’ isn’t exactly the correct word to put it.

Fucking around with Mingyu has definitely taken your mind away from your worries. That is, if you have any sanity left after getting railed into next week every time you meet up with him. Ever since your little sexcapade on the plane home, his Mustang parked in the gate of your penthouse in Seongbuk-dong has become a frequent occurrence and you gotta thank for choosing the specific spot, hidden in the mountains - mainly for the view, but nowadays, privacy has never been more important.

Part of you felt guilty for cheating on Joshua and acting lovey-dovey whenever you are with him, all while you’re sleeping with Mingyu, sometimes in fancy hotel rooms, sometimes in the same bed you share with your boyfriend. 

But fuck, you would be lying if you said that Mingyu wasn’t sex on legs, proving it every single time you met.

It’s like he had memorized your sweet spots the first time he fucked you on that damned last minute flight and he never misses a chance to abuse them in every way possible. His tongue greedily tasting your skin, lips mapping out your body, his fingers leaving a symphony of red and purple blotches on your skin. Your brain simply cannot comprehend how effortlessly Mingyu can make you cum with his mouth, hands and cock alike, satisfying all of your carnal needs. 

But that’s as far as he can go. 

You’re lying on the bed, the pristine silk sheets soiled from your juices and Mingyu’s cum running down freely from your puffy, spent hole again. You have half of a sane mind to get up on your elbows and see your lover talking on the phone, presumably with his manager. He spots you and puts his finger over his lips in a shushing motion, making you frown. Ever the workaholic, you roll your eyes.

“When is the opening?...Next week, huh? That’s pretty convenient. Okay, I’ll call you back once I check my schedule again. Congrats again, bro. See ya”, he ends the call and puts his phone over his discarded t-shirt, turning his attention to you. 

“Are you done now?”, you sigh and Mingyu scoffs lightly, approaching the edge of the bed with slow steps in all of his naked glory. He climbs on top of you, caging you between his muscular frame and the mattress, hungrily licking his lips. “Sweetheart… don’t get greedy when I’m working”, he says with a sweet voice, but you can recognize the stern undertone. “Attending another opening, Gyu? What is it this time?”, you ask him and your voice wavers a bit as you feel his cock resting on your still drenched slit. “A friend of mine is opening his own club next week in Gangnam and he wants me to attend the event”, Mingyu replies, grinding his hips on you slowly and chuckling at your neediness, “You know…For exposure and stuff”, he adds and attaches his lips on the base of your neck, sloppily sucking on the spot. “A-As if you don’t like going to c-clubs”, you whine, “Gossip magazines are all about your club escapades -fuck!”, you’re cut off mid-sentence as Mingyu slides his cock in your cunt again, knocking the air out of your lungs. “You’re one to talk, princess - sipping on high end champagne at luxury lounges isn’t quite far off from my way of entertainment”, he retorts and wraps his large hand around your throat, pressing the sides softly. He laughs once he feels your cunt tighten around his shaft and notices how your eyes flutter from the incoming pleasure you’re experiencing. 

“We’re similar in more ways than one, my dear Y/N”, he trails wet kisses from your neck to your jawline, his cock completely still inside you. “I just happen to be a lil’ bit more fucked up than you”, he whispers in your ear and bucks his hips into you, a loud gasp escaping your lips. He props himself on his hands and starts ramming his cock in your cunt again, just like he did ten minutes ago, still hard from watching his own cum dripping from you. 

“F-Fuck! F-Feels so good, Gyu!”, you whine underneath him, your tits bouncing with every thrust he delivers. “First on the plane back home and now on the bed you share with your pretty little photographer? Talk about an upgrade, princess”, Mingyu sneers and the sound of your phone ringing on your nightstand cuts through the sexual atmosphere. He stretches his arm and picks the device in his hand, an impish grin on his lips. “Speak of the devil”, he shows you the screen and your eyes widen with horror when you see Joshua’s name on it.

“Mingyu, pull out-”, “Answer it, Y/N”, “But-”, “I said. Answer the fucking phone”, he lowers his tone and you pick it up, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

“H-Hey Shua”, “Put it on speaker”, Mingyu mouths and you press the speaker option on your screen. “Hey babe, what’s up?”, the sweet voice of your boyfriend echoes in the room, “A-All good, baby. W-What about you? Is everything r-ready for the exhibition?”, you ask with the most normal tone you can muster. “Yes, finally, thank God - hey, are you okay? You sound like you’re panting”, he asks with a worried tone and you bite your bottom lip hard from guilt and embarrassment. “Answer his question, baby”, Mingyu leans down to whisper in your ear teasingly. “I’m okay, Joshie! I’m w-watching a new workout routine video!”, you blatantly lie and your lips are parted in a silent scream as Mingyu changes his pace to painstakingly slow yet full thrusts, your mind spinning from the curves and ridges of his cock rubbing deliciously against your tight walls.

“Take it easy, champion. I don’t want you to be tired later”, Joshua chuckles from the other end of the call. “Y-You got something planned for us?”, “Can’t tell you much, but you should dress up nicely, sweetheart~”, “When will you be h-home?”, you suppress a moan while keeping up with the conversation, Mingyu getting more pissed with each passing second. “I’ll be home in an hour. Better be ready by then, baby”, “Okay, baby. See you then”, you end the call in a haste and you let out a ragged breath, hoping you were persuasive enough to deceive your boyfriend. 

“I’m sorry - ah!”, you whine pathetically as Mingyu pulls out and manhandles you into all fours, pressing your head in the mattress as he slams his cock back in your cunt, ramming it at a rather brutal pace. “You really are a greedy little bitch, huh? Arranging a stupid date with your stupid little boyfriend all while your slutty cunt is filled with my cock”, he grits his teeth, nails digging in the skin of your waist, “Maybe I should dump all of my cum in your hole again, make you keep it inside your cunt as you get ready for your little date. How does that sound, sweetheart?”, he grips your hair and pulls your head back. “Please cum in me, Gyu, please!”, you sob loudly, thighs visibly trembling. “Cumming already, babygirl? Go on then, cum on my cock like the whore you are, make us both cum”, he growls and you scream his name when your orgasm hits you, squirting unstoppably with each of his thrust. “That’s it, baby, show how much of a cockdrunk whore you are, squirt more for me”, he chuckles darkly as he keeps thrusting his cock inside you, spurting his cum and painting your walls white once more. “T-Too much, Gyu, it’s t-too much!”, you sob from overstimulation and Mingyu pulls out, making you gasp from the loss between your legs. 

“W-What the fuck!”, you curse at him, feeling too weak to turn around and get up from the bed. “Don’t curse at me, sweetheart, you know you don’t have much time left either way”, Mingyu scoffs as he gets dressed, “Besides, you don’t really want your little prince to see us together, right?”, “You have a point there”, you huff and try to get up, but your legs are still too wobbly. “Easy now, princess”, Mingyu strides towards you and wraps his arms around your midriff to keep you from falling on the floor. “Here you go again…”, you mutter through gritted teeth, but Mingyu cuts you off with a searing kiss that lasts merely a few seconds and he pulls away once he makes sure you can stand on your own two feet. “I’d love to stay more, but you need to get ready for your date”, he punctuates the last word with a rather bitter tone and puts on his sunglasses, his hand on the door. “Oh and you better change those sheets, baby. We don’t want to show dear Joshie the mess you made, right?”, he adds and bids you farewell with his lips puckered in the shape of a flying kiss, closing the door behind him. 

“So much for acting like a gentleman….”, you roll your eyes and the roaring engine of Mingyu’s Mustang catches your attention, watching as the sleek black vehicle disappears from the gate of the penthouse, hoping he’ll make it in Seoul before crossing paths with Joshua. Speaking of which, you now have approximately forty minutes to change the ruined sheets, clean yourself up and get ready before your boyfriend is home to pick you up.

You decide to hop into the shower and get cleaned up, the mess between your legs proving too much to handle. The water cascading on your naked body soothes you immediately and you bring your hand between your legs, gasping at the amount of cum that dribbles on the tiled floor. “Gosh, that man..”, you half moan and slip two fingers inside, pumping them steadily to push all of his cum out and clean yourself good, but you can’t help but moan even louder, your digits gaining speed and Mingyu’s name slipping past your lips like a mantra as you cum for the fourth time today, your body slumping against the wet wall. 

It takes you a few seconds to realize that you need to get out of the shower as soon as possible and you hastily pour some shower gel on your body, rubbing it all over to remove your sweat (and cum), washing your hair afterwards and turning off the water as soon as the foam from your head and body is washed away. You check the time on your phone and you have approximately twenty five minutes left to dress up and cover up any trace of Mingyu left behind. You completely remove the soiled bed sheets and toss them into the hamper, hastily putting new ones on the mattress, not caring about the forming wrinkles of the fabric.

“Closet, closet…”, you anxiously mutter and run towards your closet, opening it to search through the myriad of clothes. You take a peek at the built-in mirror and your eyes wander on your reflection, red and purple blotches littered across your skin. Thank God they can be covered, you think and opt for a black, long sleeve turtleneck dress that rests a bit above your knees. You put on a fresh set of underwear and slip into your dress, checking the time again - 6:45. Joshua was merely a few minutes away from home and your hair was still wet, no makeup, shoes or any other accessory on. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”, you squeal in a state of panic as you rummage through your drawers to find a bag and a few jewelry to put on, along with a pair of strappy stiletto heels.

You run back and forth in the bedroom and bathroom, your mind turned into that cartoonish, black scribble, completely missing Joshua parking his car right outside the entrance of your penthouse (blame it on the soundless engine). You’re hurriedly blow-drying your hair and the sound of the hairdryer is completely cancelling any other sound around you, including the door clicking shut. 

“Still not ready?”, Joshua stands on the doorframe of the bathroom and you yelp, the hairdryer almost falling from your hands. “Fuck- you scared me!”, you whine and unplug the device, picking up the hairbrush, in an attempt to tidy up your hair. “I didn’t mean to, but I thought I told you to be ready when I get home”, he raises an eyebrow playfully and you gulp from embarrassment, the gears in our brain turning rapidly in order to find a believable lie. 

“I got carried away with that work out program and got into the bathroom kinda late...”, you explain with the most stable voice you can muster, all while smoothing down your hair and working on your makeup. “You do realize you look perfect, don’t you?”, Joshua chuckles. “I just wanna be fit, okay?”, you retort while applying foundation. “I know, angel, I know. I just want you to... not lose yourself”, “What do you mean, Josh?”, “I mean that working 24/7 as an influencer could have a... not so positive impact on your mental state, since there’s a lot of toxicity going around social media”,  he chooses his words carefully. “Awww Joshie”, you feel your heart melt at his heartfelt words and you can’t help but give him a tight hug, “I know how much you care about me, but you really don’t have to worry, okay?”, you pull away and press a soft kiss on his lips.

“I hope you’re done with your makeup, because we’re really going to miss that reservation”, Joshua laughs, “Just let me put some mascara and lipstick on at least!”, you whine and slap the aformentioned makeup products on and take your purse with you, looping your arm around Joshua’s, his hand resting on the small of your back as you exit your house, making your way towards the car.

You had missed these moments with your boyfriend - playful banter, sharing a nice meal, exchanging kisses and encouraging, honest words of love.

You missed those moments.

Yet why were you still lying to him about your secret affair with Mingyu?

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Shield

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 5595

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, John Walker, Emotions, Character Death, Mentions of Blood, I know people had a hard time with that last scene so please take caution because it is in this part! GIF at end is the ending scene, so be careful when you get towards the bottom! I feel like I’m forgetting some, so just know this one’s a bit more than the others.

A/N: Here it is, folks! The Part we’ve all been waiting for! It’s the longest one I’ve written so far but so much happened and I couldn’t find a better spot to end it than where the episode ended. Thank you all for being patient with me today. I know I didn’t get this out as quickly as I would’ve the past few weeks, but you guys are so awesome! Seriously! I love that you understand I do have a life and work comes first! Thank you, thank you!

This Part is a doozy, guys, and…I’m sorry? But not really. I’m SUPER excited to see where this is gonna go, especially considering Episode 5 is supposed to be the real tear jerker. I can’t believe there’s only two more episodes! I’ve grown so attached to these characters just in the past month! I’m so glad I’m able to share some of my thoughts and feelings with you guys, too! You’re honestly the best!

I’ll be doing more One Shots this week, so look for those on the Masterlist. I’m still taking requests for them, so if there’s anything you want explored about the reader and her relationships that you don’t think will be explored in this Series, just ask and I’ll try to add it to the One Shot list.

As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

(I couldn’t decide on which GIF to use because there are so many good ones! Thank you Tumblr Creators!)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“Doll…hey. Doll. C’mon, sweetheart. We gotta get moving.”

You cracked your eyes open begrudgingly, squinting up to see Bucky’s amused grin, head tilted and eyes soft. “Huh?”

He chuckled as you rubbed your eyes, confusion lifting an eyebrow. “The funeral. Zemo said we’ve gotta go if we’re gonna make it in time.”

“Wait, but…huh?”

Sniggering again at your reaction, he held up your phone. “You passed out in the middle of a chapter, sleepyhead.” He teased lightly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you to sit upright. “It’s almost been an hour.”

You huffed tiredly, stretching and placing your feet on the floor, taking back the phone he held out to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You haven’t been sleeping well.” He stated, like it should’ve been obvious. “How’s your arm feeling?”

“Better than earlier. It’s just sore. That’s all.”

He studied your features for any hint of a lie. Not finding one, he nodded, holding out his hand. “Okay. But tell me if it starts bothering you.”

You placed your hand in his, marveling for a split second at how big his hands were compared to yours - something you noticed every time but still it never ceased to astound you. He tugged you up, and you looked up to meet his worried eyes, remembering his question.

“I will, Buck. Promise.”

He nodded, tilting his head towards the door. “C’mon, cuddle bug. We don’t wanna miss this.”

A groan passed your lips, but you nodded and followed Bucky out into the main room, where Sam chuckled at you from his spot at the table. “Sleeping beauty has finally awoken.”

You flipped Sam off groggily. “Are we going or not?”

“Do you wanna wake up s’more first?”

“No.” You answered the one armed brunette. “I’ll just splash some water on my face or something. I’ll be fine by the time we get there. Where’s-”

“Looking for me?”

Zemo strolled out, now dressed in that coat of his, that smug smirk on his lips. You scowled. “I wish I wasn’t.”

Sam stood up, standing subconsciously between you and Zemo. “Let’s head out.”

You nodded in agreement, shooting the Baron one more glare, before following him out the door and into the city, Bucky right besides you, shoulders brushing as if you weren’t ignoring him just hours prior.

The walk was mostly silent, a few jests between Bucky and Sam plus a couple comments from Zemo here and there. You talked about strategy, with Sam bringing up the fact that he wanted to try convincing Karli to step down. Zemo didn’t look pleased with the arrangement, but both you and Bucky relented, agreeing to let Sam at least try.

It wasn’t until you were close to your destination according to Zemo that anything exciting happened.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!”

Hell. No. 

The moment the voice registered in your brain, your jaw tightened, your teeth starting to grind together as you held back the very not nice things you wanted to say. 

“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called out, tucking you into his side protectively, and a little possessively you noted, as Walker and Hoskins came down the steps, the two groups nearing each other.

You were relieved when the subject of Zemo escaping jail went by relatively quickly, Walker latching onto the fact that you were going to talk to Karli instead of focusing on the escaped fugitive in front of him.

You very nearly punched him when he ran in front of you after Sam told him the plan, making the four of you stop in your tracks, but Bucky’s arm tightened around your shoulders, holding you in place next to him.

“You’re gonna let him do this?” Walker questioned Bucky in disbelief, self righteous judgement practically dripping from your tone. “You’re gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super soldier alone?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. “He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.”

“And you?” Walker narrowed his eyes towards you. “I expected more from you; the last original Avenger.”

You snorted, shaking your head. He obviously didn’t know how chaotic the Avengers were. What Sam was proposing? You’d seen it a million times with Steve alone. Not considering Nat, Clint, Thor, even Bruce and Tony. All of them willing to try to negotiate before running in, bullets raining and hell rising. “First, I’m not the last original. I’m technically not even an original. Second, I trust Sam with my life and I’m standing by his decision. He’s my brother. As a soldier, I would’ve thought you understood that.”

Before he could respond, Sam stepped around Bucky. You saw the reluctance in Walker’s eyes as he admitted a temporary defeat once Hoskins agreed with Sam. The fact that he was so unwilling to try to save more lives - including Karli’s - made the truth that he wasn’t, and would never, be your Captain harden deeper into your heart.

Ignoring Walker’s confusion as you followed the little girl Zemo befriended - which was weird, you’d admit, but it was getting you closer to Karli - Bucky’s arm slipped from your shoulders, hand sliding across your back and skimming down your arm to grip your hand. Even through your jacket, you felt goosebumps erupt along his fingers’ trail.

You finally came to your destination and you let out a small breath. If everything went smoothly, this mission could finally be over and you could go home and take a bath, get take out, get out a bottle of wine, watch TV, and just relax.

What a dream.

“Hey.” You stopped Sam before he could go through the entrance of where the girl said Karli was, holding his forearm. “You want me to come with you?”

He shook his head. “I think it’ll be better if I go alone.”

You nodded, letting go without any hesitance. “Okay. Be careful.”

“Always.” And despite all you’ve been through, no matter how many times he’s followed Steve’s lead in doing something stupid, you knew he meant it. You nodded again, before he disappeared around the corner.

You leaned back against the wall, Bucky once again wrapping an arm around your shoulder now that you weren’t walking - he liked having mobility on the move, hence the reason he held your hand instead - leaning besides you and pulling you against his chest.

Ten minutes. You tried looking at Bucky’s watch, which was on the wrist of the arm around you. He noticed and turned his wrist slightly, bending his elbow more, which brought you even closer to him, showing you the time.

Giving a small sigh, you nodded slightly and dropped your head back against his bicep, your hands shoving in your pockets, one of your feet coming up to rest against the wall. Bucky shifted to your other side so he could stand in front of the doors to where Karli and Sam were, pulling you against his back, arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly.

It was a long ten minutes. You kept eyeing Walker, and you couldn’t help the anger burning through you as he held the shield in his hands. That damn shield. It wasn’t his. It would never be his. And he would never understand it. The fact that the shield didn’t make Captain America. The shield isn’t what made Steve a good man. Not even the Serum did. He already was one. Steve made the shield what it was, not the other way around.

But then you remembered a conversation you had, years ago, and your eyes flitted up to Bucky’s hardened face, the brunette staring intensely at the ground.

~

You didn’t get it. You were confused. You knew how important Barnes - Bucky - was to Steve. But apparently you didn’t understand it quite yet.

You watched from the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall, as Bucky went under once more.

Steve stood there for a moment longer, before turning and walking towards you. “Why’d you do it?”

He raised an eyebrow at you while you turned to walk with him down the hall. “Do what?”

“Give up the shield. And don’t say it doesn’t belong to you. It does. Howard gave it to you. You’re the reason it’s…a symbol.”

He hummed. “And what exactly is it a symbol for, honey?”

You scoffed. “Uh, freedom? Justice? Resilience? The defense of the whole life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness thing?”

He stopped, facing you with a strange expression on his face, thoughtful. “I dropped it because I can’t be that anymore. Not right now. People don’t have the same beliefs they used to have. How can I stand up for freedom and let the Sokovia Accords track every person they deem a threat, just like HYDRA tried doing? How can I be a symbol for justice and let Bucky take the fall for something that he wasn’t in control of? I can’t. And until the world is ready to change…I can’t be Captain America.”

~

And suddenly, it seemed to click. Steve gave up the shield for Bucky because the world wasn’t ready to admit it was wrong. Just like Sam gave up the shield for himself and his family because the world wasn’t ready for the truth that would come with him becoming Captain America.

God…when did a metal circle become so complicated?

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ head’a yours?” His whisper in your ear startled you out of your thoughts, his nose brushing against your temple tenderly as he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You looked up at him and shook your head. Of all the things Steve gave up, he never gave up Bucky. And it used to confuse you, but you understood then. His blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and slight concern, his fingers tracing patterns along your collarbone with a barely-there touch that was so light it didn’t seem to exist. You finally understood. Not just Steve’s decision, but Sam’s too. And maybe you didn’t understand it fully, and that was okay, because you weren’t them, so you never would, but you understood a little bit.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, keeping your voice down so the others couldn’t hear, the conversation being a private one, “I’m just waiting for this to be over.”

He hummed, nodding in agreement, setting his chin on your head. “Me too.”

Walker started pacing the room about half way through, getting too antsy for your liking. “Shhh.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, feeling you tense as Walker started talking. “It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky stated confidently, straightening slightly from his leaning position, arms falling from your form. The two of you exchanged glances as Walker checked the clock over on the far wall, blocked from your view.

“I’m going in.” Walker strode across the room, heading for the entrance, no doubt willing to steam roll anything - anyone - in his way.

Bucky stopped him with a hand on his chest. You glanced back and forth between the two as Walker spoke, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Buck…we promised him ten minutes.” You reminded him, seeing his resolve crumble a bit. You could guess he was thinking of the nightmares. The people he couldn’t save. The blood he already considered on his hands.

Walker used his moment of hesitation, shoving past him roughly. “I’m not waiting.”

“John!”

“Walker!”

You followed after him, you and Bucky arguing with him and Hoskins about giving Sam more time, but it was too late.

“Karli Morgenthau! You’re under arrest!”

“Fuck.” You hissed out when you saw Sam’s panicked expression, looking at you confused. Walker was flown across the room when Karli punched him, Bucky shoving Hoskins out of the way to run after her.

“Y/N-”

You threw your hands up. “I tried, Sam! C’mon!”

You and Sam ran over to some stairs, turning corners and trying to remember what the building looked like from outside to cut her off, but you only ran into Bucky again. 

“I wish we had the layout or something.” You grumbled. “We were that close-”

“We’re not done yet, doll.” Nodding, you followed the boys out, Bucky pausing every so often to try to hear anything. “I’ve got gunshots.” At that, the three of you took off towards the sound, Bucky leading the way.

Just around the corner from where Bucky heard the gunshots, you thought you saw a couple people slip around another bend. Noticing you had stopped, Bucky backtracked. “You okay?’

“Yeah.” Deciding it wasn’t worth the pursuit, you turned to him and nodded towards the doorway Sam already went through. He gave you a look, but nodded and the two of you jogged into the room.

You sighed heavily, seeing Zemo knocked out on the floor, Walker standing over him and broken vials that were previously full of, what you assumed was, the Serum. Hoskins ran in right after you, meaning no one but Walker and Zemo knew what happened. Meaning you would probably never get the full, true story.

What fun it is to work with manipulators and liars.

********************

“I don’t like him.” Bucky grumbled, the two of you walking up to the place you were staying in, Bucky holding the door open for you.

“I know you don’t, Buck. I don’t either.” You had asked Bucky to go with you to get some fresh air once you got back, Zemo having woken up a few minutes after and Walker and Hoskins had to make a call or something official like the good soldiers they were. “He’s hiding something.”

“You think?” Bucky scoffed, giving you a look.

You rolled your eyes. “I mean…I don’t know. When we found him and Zemo…my gut twisted.”

He nodded in understanding, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah. Mine did too.”

You stopped him before you could walk through the door to the main room. “Do me a favor?” He nodded again with a little hum. Catching his chin between your fingers, your free hand moved to smooth out the creases between his brow. “Stop brooding so much. It makes me worried.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, features softening slightly. “Are you really gonna leave in the morning? I know you’ve had a lot of people telling you to take a break, and it’s selfish for me to ask you to stay, but…I dunno if I can finish this without you.”

“I-” You sighed, ducking your head as you thought of a response, before looking up in his wide eyes, begging for you to stick around longer. “Let’s just finish the day and see what happens next. Okay?”

He bit his lip, nodding slightly. You gave him a smile, before tugging on his hand. “I need a drink.”

He chuckled at that. “That I can fix, doll.” He, again, opened the door for you, and the two of you walked in.

“What a gentleman. Straight outta the 40’s.” You joked, making him roll his eyes.

He took off his jacket, heading to the kitchen, while you sat on the opposite side of the island. “Somethin’s not right about Walker.”

Sam gave you two an amused look. “You don’t say.”

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one.” He opened the lid of the bottle he grabbed, starting to pour two glasses of whiskey for the both of you. “Because I am crazy.”

You rolled your eyes as Sam responded, “can’t argue with that.”

“You shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

Giving Bucky a disapproving look over the rim of your glass, you sipped your drink, narrowing your eyes when he ignored you. “I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”

Your glass slammed down on the counter. Why did he have to bring this up right now? Seriously? You were just having a nice conversation about places you wanted to visit while taking a walk outside. Why was he suddenly snapping?

Before you could scold him, the doors burst open, making your head whip over as Walker stormed in, “ordering” you to hand over Zemo.

You stayed sitting, leaning on the counter and facing the opposite wall as Sam told him off, giving an amused snicker as you sipped your drink. Bucky sat besides you, facing Walker, and you recognized from the angle he was positioning himself that he was blocking you from Walker’s view, whether intentional or not.

You raised an eyebrow, turning in interest when Walker put down the shield, knowing Sam wasn’t about to fight the man. What an ego the blonde had.

Before anything could happen, however, a spear pierced through the air, lodging in the pillar next to Walker’s head.

Your frustration with Bucky’s comment flew out of your head as Ayo and a few other Dora Milaje walked in. Bucky sat up straighter and you stood up, leaning ever so slightly against his arm.

You nearly facepalmed, a sound of complete disbelief leaving you as Walker introduced himself. Sam looked over at you two, an entertained, slightly incredulous smile on his face.

Sam tried warning him. He really did. But Walker, you’ve come to find, was an arrogant, egotistical narcissist who only wanted to win and would do whatever it takes to do so. Even when there wasn’t really a winner. At least, not in that situation. It seemed that Walker liked ignoring the gray area in the world, which wasn’t good. Not in the least.

Which is why you couldn’t really feel sorry for the man. You saw it coming as soon as he told them they didn’t have jurisdiction. And the moment he touched Ayo?

You put your chin on Bucky’s shoulder - who had stood up from his spot - watching the Dora Milaje kick Walker’s ass, wincing and cringing mockingly at the right moments, making Bucky smirk at you.

“We should do something.” Sam said, although he didn’t look thrilled about the prospect.

Bucky crossed his arms. “Looking strong, John!”

You gave a slight snort, not wanting to encourage anything, but unable to hold in your amusement. Bucky winked at you, clinking his cup of whiskey with your own, before taking a gulp.

“Bucky.” 

You huffed and stepped back at Sam’s tone. “C’mon, Buck.”

“Fine.” Bucky grunted. “But ‘M not happy about it.”

Soon, the three of you, plus Walker and Hoskins, were all occupied with a member of the Dora Milaje. You knew you couldn’t take them; they were on a higher level that Natasha, and you could barely beat her. But you weren’t necessarily trying to win.

It was a strange fight, knowing that no one - except Walker, probably - actually wanted to hurt anyone. Of course, that didn’t stop one of them from exploiting your injured shoulder that she spotted rather quickly. The hits were quick and precise, the tip of her spear cutting along the graze, hitting the spot just perfect enough to reopen it. The stitches that had been placed only a couple days ago ripped, making you wince and clutch your now bleeding shoulder.

“Oh fuck.” You groaned. “You were always good with those things.”

She gave you an almost apologetic look, before she looked over to Ayo, who stepped through the room towards the bathroom where Zemo had locked himself in during the chaos.

When you caught sight of the shoulder thing she did to Bucky, his metallic arm now laying on the floor, his eyes wide and his stance stunned, your jaw nearly dropped. You guessed it made sense that they had a way to do that, but, still. None of you were expecting it.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked once they started leaving, Bucky picking up his arm and connecting it to his shoulder.

“No.” The arm whirred as he swung it, getting it back to normal.

You couldn’t help the little giggle that left you, making Bucky raise an eyebrow at you. You tried holding in more laughs, but they just kept coming. “She-she...she disarmed you!”

Bucky rolled his eyes as you chortled, holding your stomach and bending over. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Oh come on!” You straightened and wiped your eyes. “That was good! Wasn’t it, Sammy?”

Sammy chuckled and nodded. “I’ll admit, it was pretty good. This, however, is not.”

Your laughter died as Sam made his way over to the bathroom, the light air that came with your cackles dissipating as quickly as it came.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.”

You stared at the drain that was uncovered - large enough for Zemo to slip inside and escape. He did it. The son of a bitch finally did it. It took him long enough. You would’ve betted against him days ago.

“I can.” Bucky turned and grabbed your hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

*********************

“I thought you told them.”

Bucky looked up from wrapping your shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “What?”

“I thought you told them. The Dora Milaje. Wakanda. T’Challa. I thought you told them about Zemo.”

He leaned back with a sigh. “It was kinda a last minute decision. You know that. You were there.”

You nodded. “I do. But I also know what they’ve done for you. Shuri and Ayo. I was there for that, too. And you know what he did to them. To their country. Their king.”

“I know, I know. I almost died several times because of it.”

Your eyebrows pinched in confusion. “So why-”

“I thought it’d be quick. I thought, maybe, I could do it without them finding out and then we could get to Karli and they wouldn’t be disappointed. Win win.”

Your cheek caught between your teeth as you thought. “You could’ve just asked-”

He shook his head. “They would’ve said no. You know that.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. I know that. But…but giving them a warning would’ve been better than this.” He hung his head, closing his eyes. “Bucky. Hey,” hooking a finger under his chin, you tilted his head back up to look at you. “I know it’s been hard for you. Everything has. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have let you come along. You should be healing, and it’s my fault you’re not.” He opened his mouth, face scrunching up in disagreement, but you shook your head. “It’s true. I just…I didn’t know it would come this far.” You gnawed on your bottom lip studying those captivating eyes, before sighing. “Which is why I’m not leaving.”

He perked up, those pretty eyes going wide, jaw slackening. “You-you’re not?!”

You shook your head. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. “It wouldn’t be fair to you or Sam. I promised to help, and I brought you into it. So I’m gonna stay.

“Are you, uh…are you sure? You don’t hafta if you don’t wanna, doll. I know I kinda pushed you earlier, but-”

“I’m sure Buck.” You nodded firmly. “Just…do something for me?”

“I dunno if I can promise not brooding, sweetheart.”

You giggled at his words. “Not that. Just…stop giving Sam a hard time. About the shield. Please.”

His soft features hardened and he scowled. “If he didn’t give it up-”

“He thought it was going to the museum. I told you about that, remember? I told you we’d go when I got back.”

Giving a slight nod, he sighed. “We never did.”

“We will. But, I’m serious, Buck. Please. It’s not his fault. He did exactly what Steve did.” At Bucky’s confused look, you pursed your lips, looking down at his hands, starting to play with his fingers. “Remember how I was thinking during those ten minutes we had?” He nodded. “I was thinking about how Steve gave the shield back to Tony. After saving you. In Siberia. You remember that?” Another nod was given, so you continued. “It was for you, James. Because you made him realize that he didn’t want to be the face of a country that preached one thing, but did another. And that’s what Sam did. He did it for his family. For himself. Because no one wants to fight for a country that goes against your personal beliefs, no matter what they say.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Bucky’s eyes squinted, his brow creasing as he tried processing what you were telling him.

“That’s okay. Not everyone will. Really only they can understand their own reasoning. But you have to try to understand that he did what he thought was best for himself. For Steve. For the shield. And I know - dammit do I know - that it’s the last thing left of him. But it is just metal. Isn’t it? Steve’s the reason it is what it is. No one else. And no one is going to change that.”

Bucky took a breath, glossy, worried eyes meeting yours. “Walker’s going to ruin it. I know he is. I can feel it. Everything Steve worked for. I don’t care about Captain America. I care about the kid from Brooklyn who wanted to make a difference, no matter how little he was. I trusted him. I followed him through bullets and blood, with only that shield between us and them. He was home on a battlefield in Italy across the ocean from New York. And that shield was the welcome mat. It doesn’t matter what it says, what it looks like…but it protected my home when I couldn’t. But now? I feel like it’s tearing my home down. Pulling out the bricks. And it hurts. It was never about the shield, Y/N. It was always about the man it protected when I couldn’t be there for him. And now?”

Gathering him in your arms as he trailed off, you gave a couple little sniffles, pressing your face in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck lightly. “I’ll be your welcome mat, Buckaroo.” You offered.

He shook his head, pulling away to hold your face between his hands. “No, sweetheart. You’re not the welcome mat. You’re the new bricks replacing the old. You’re…you’re my home, now, doll.”

You swallowed thickly, unable to handle the rush of emotions that just poured through you, the sudden change in topic making you feel more vulnerable than you’d like. You leaned forwards, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling him go lax in your arms. “And you’re mine.” You murmured softly, before getting up and heading out for the room, unable to stay any longer. You still had a mission to do. One that became even more desperate with Zemo loose, Walker unhinged, and Karli being so close.

******************

There was a silent agreement to not bring up your conversation. Not yet, at least. Sam had eyed you both when you came out of the room, saying you were ready to get moving, but he didn’t say anything either.

None of you really knew where you were going, only what you had to do. Find Zemo and get to Karli before Walker could. Both of which were a lot easier said than done.

Until Sam got a call from Sarah, who told him Karli contacted her personally and threatened her and her sons. She left a contact number for Sam, evidently wanting to meet. His phone dinged not a minute after he texted the number.

“She said come alone.”

“Well that’s not happening.” You opposed, crossing your arms.

Bucky nodded with your sentence. “We’re coming with you.”

Sam didn’t say anything against it, the three of you exchanging glances, before heading out to the location, changing into your tactical suits along the way.

Karli didn’t seem to mind you and Bucky tagging along, and you understood why the moment she mentioned not killing Sam because he wasn’t hiding behind a shield. It was a distraction. They were going after Walker.

It was confirmed only moments later when Sharon contacted Sam. “Looks like he found them, or maybe they found him.”

As soon as Sam announced that it was Walker, you jumped into action, Sam disabling Karli for just the right amount of time for you to get a head start. “I’ll send you the location. Go.” He told Bucky, who nodded and took off in his super soldier sprint. “You hitching a ride?”

You rolled your eyes at his slight tease. “I hate this so much.” You grumbled, catching his hand as he took off in the air with his bird costume. He held onto you tightly, like the millions of times you’d done this before, although it didn’t make you any less dizzy, traveling that fast, that high, with only his hold keeping you from dropping. “You’re lucky I trust you so much!”

He gave a small chuckle at your shout over the wind. “We’re landing! Brace yourself!” You followed his order, just in time for him to break through the glass ceiling of the building Walker was in. The both of you landed on a platform on the staircase just as a Flag Smasher was thrown through double glass doors, down the stairs, and into a power box. Your eyes went wide as Walker strolled down the steps, oozing a confidence that made you nervous. The moment Walker stopped the Flag Smasher - the Super Soldier - from hitting him with the pipe, you knew even before he twisted it like a pretzel.

“Sam.” You breathed out. You couldn’t even do anything, only watching as the Flag Smasher got up from being thrown again, and running down a hall.

“What’d you do?”

“They got Lemar.” Was the only reply he gave, brushing past you and Sam. You gave Sam a look, but he just jerked his head down the hall, in the direction the Flag Smasher went and the way Walker started heading. You nodded, willing to drop it for now to save someone’s life, but you were so bringing it up once this was done.

Jogging into the room, you should’ve expected the ambush in the room, but, to be honest, they didn’t take as much advantage as they could’ve, so it wasn’t too difficult of a fight. You had trained with Steve millions of times before, so you knew how to go against a Super Soldier. Granted, your Cap wasn’t trying to kill you while training, but it was better than nothing.

You protected your shoulder, knowing that was your weak point, while trying to disguise it so whoever you were fighting wouldn’t realize your Achilles’ Heel. Something you often found while dealing with Steve, and even Bucky, was that Super Soldiers, as quick as they were, tended to favor the super strength side of their enhancements. This made it easier for you to dodge the attacks, knowing most of your blows wouldn’t do much.

Knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay on the defensive for long, you decided to try to get an advantage over them. Disarming them and taking their knife was easy enough. A small advantage, yeah, but now you had a weapon, and you could work with that.

You weren’t exactly sure when Bucky joined the fight, but he did, immediately coming over to you when you body kicked your opponent, helping you up. “That was a Steve move.” Your eyes caught sight of the Flag Smasher behind him and you shoved his shoulder down, throwing your knife, making it land solidly in the man’s shoulder. Bucky looked up at you from his crouch, impressed. “And that was a me move.”

You shrugged. “I’m a visual learner.”

You, Sam, and Bucky were about to go for another round with the guys when a sickening crack sounded behind you, and you whipped around. 

Hoskins was against a split pillar, a crimson streak running down his forehead, head lolling to the side, lips red and cracked. The fight stopped as Walker rushed over to his friend, but you knew there was no way he survived. A punch from a Super Soldier? That hard?

Eyeing the Flag Smashers, you turned to Sam and Bucky when they started dispersing, Karli running out as well. They nodded towards you and the three of you took off after her, not wanting to let her get away again and, for you, at least, wanting to give Walker some time.

You weren’t expecting his grief to turn into such raw hatred. 

Running up to the city square, you didn’t actually see it happen. Just the aftermath. Which was good, considering you nearly threw up just seeing that.

You heard the change in Bucky’s breathing, barely recognizing the way he stepped in front of you, only realizing you stepped closer when you felt his sleeve against your palms, fingers tightly wrapped around his forearm. A choked sound came from somewhere, but you didn’t know it was you, even as Bucky reached his arm around to hold your waist, keeping you behind his shoulder. 

Tears leaked down your face silently, eyes unable to look away as Walker straightened, sliding the shield on his arm, too nonchalantly for someone who just murdered another in front of a crowd full of people, cameras pointed towards him.

The shield. That piece of metal you had been wondering so deeply about the past couple of weeks. The link to the first person you’d ever loved. Ruined. Tarnished. Stained.

You could barely breathe, your throat clenching so tightly it was a wonder you were able to get anything out at all.

“James…”

[thirsty-flygirl]

Touch Me

A Javier Peña x f!Reader Romance

Rating: Explicit - language, canon violence, sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll. You know the drill, no one under 18 allowed.

Word Count: 1688

Tags: let me know if you want to be! @katareyoudrilling here is the next part if you want to read!!

A/N: I do not speak Spanish so I have to thank the beautiful and talented @flightlessangelwings for helping me with the one line in this chapter!!

Part V: Kevlar

“Absolutely not.”

All eyes swiveled to Javier, eyebrows collectively raised at his refusal. You grit your teeth, trying to swallow your rage at the authoritative finality in his tone.

“I’m sorry?” You replied quietly, your words laced with fury despite your best attempts otherwise.

Javi propped his hands on his hips and offered you a level glare before responding.

“There’s no way you’re going out there.”

Steve gave a low whistle, looking down at the scarred surface of the conference table. Carrillo crossed his strong arms, turning to stare out the window.

Well, shit. So much for back-up.

“Where the fuck do you get off telling me what I can and can’t do, Peña?” Forget professionalism, you were out for blood.

“I know you think you run the show here, but Murph and I have just as much invested as you do.” You couldn’t believe that this was the same man who, less than two weeks ago, had effectively dumped you before you were even together. Since then he had said maybe seven words to you, without the balls to look you in the eye for a single one of them.

And now he wanted to dictate your involvement on missions?

Hell fucking no.

“Listen, this is my intel and my operation,” you seethed, clenching your fists and swallowing the raging desire to punch him in his smug face, “so you can cut the macho bullshit, Javi.” You pointed a shaking finger in his direction.

“I. Am. Going.”

He rounded the table, infuriated, and stopped just shy of where you stood before continuing.

“I’m not gonna let you go out there on a shitty tip and get yourself fucking killed! What if your guy is working for Escobar?”

“Not all of us have to fuck our informants to get good intel, Peña,” you hissed scathingly, watching with a twisted feeling of victory as his eyes flashed with anger. “Although,” you continued, letting a suggestive smirk slide across your face, “maybe if I did I could get to Escobar himself.”

Bingo.

Javier’s expression grew thunderous, eyebrows pulling together. He thrust his hand out, catching your wrist in a loose grip and pulling you toward him.

“If one of those bastards ever lays a hand on you, I’ll—”

“Enough.”

Three sets of eyes snapped to Carrillo, still standing by the window. He stared Javi down, the tension in the room palpable like an approaching thunderstorm, air heavy and electric with the heightened emotions pouring from each of you. Javi glared back, nostrils flaring and jaw grinding, still holding you close like he was afraid you would disappear.

Only seconds passed until, but it felt like an eternity until the fingers wrapped around your wrist fell away. You rubbed the skin there absently, not hurt so much as trying to shake the effect his simple touch had on you. You cleared your throat and continued, quietly but firmly.

“I’m going, Javier. You and Steve stay on the radio.”

You walked from the room, trying to calm your racing heart as you made your way outside. Crossing to where Carrillo's men were gathered, you offered them a nod as you reached into the truck, pulling the vest from the front seat and situating it over your head.

It wasn’t like you didn’t know what you were up against, didn’t know the risks involved. You had gotten word from one of your informants that a drop was happening tonight and one of Escobar’s inner circle would be there. Capturing another well-known sicario was one step closer to getting Escobar himself, and you would be damned if you stayed behind while your partners took the lead.

For Javier to try and pull rank on you just showed how little he thought of you as an agent. His meaning tonight was clear: don't send a woman out to do a man's job.

The thought infuriated you, but you couldn't deny it fucking hurt, too. You'd thought he saw you as true partners, equals, that you were in this together. Now, it was like every facet of your complicated relationship was in question; did he only see you as a distraction, a roadblock to getting what he really wanted?

You pulled the velcro straps to tighten the vest around your ribcage, the renewed force of your anger propelling your movements. “Fuck,” you muttered, quickly unfastening the hook-and-eye fabric that you’d secured so tightly you could barely breathe. Focusing on the task at hand, you didn’t realize that Steve had joined you.

“Hey,” he called out softly, approaching you like you might turn your anger on him next. Your head snapped up at his voice, pausing in your movements to discern whether or not he was there to convince you to stay behind.

Steve held up his hands as he approached in a sign of peace. “I’m not here to argue, honey.” His blue eyes shone with such affection that you didn’t even give him shit for the pet name. Resting his hands on your shoulders, Steve ducked his head to catch your eye.

“Don’t leave without talking to him.”

You huffed and shrugged Steve’s hands off you, going back to tightening your kevlar.

“Why, so he can try to keep me off the op again?”

Tears stung your eyes and you pulled your lips together tightly, willing the sudden influx of emotion away; you couldn't let the men surrounding you see you in a moment of weakness.

Your vision blurred and you fumbled with the straps of the vest, unable to get them situated properly around your body. After a moment Steve reached out and gently covered your hands, moving them away so he could help.

“He’s scared out of his mind that this could go ass-up,” Murphy replied calmly, easily fastening the vest snugly around your torso. “I know you say your guy's legit, but if he flips and this turns on you, then we're handing you directly to Escobar. Javi's just trying to watch out for you." He regarded you silently for a moment.

"He only wants to keep you safe."

A watery laugh escaped you and you swiped at your eyes with the back of your hand. "Why? So that the two of you can rush out like heroes?" You shook your head. "Do you think I haven't thought of what could happen, Steve? If this mission does go south, I want it to be my ass on the line." Reaching out, you grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

"I need to make sure you're safe, too."

Steve smiled and pulled you in for a one-armed hug, landing a kiss on the top of your head. "We'll be on the radio. First sign of trouble, we're heading out to you."

"Deal." You looked over at Carrillo finishing up with the Bloc then giving you a nod to signal it was time. “We gotta go.”

You moved toward the truck, switching your brain into gear and letting the complications of your personal life settle into the recesses of your mind for the time being.

“We good?” you asked Carrillo, sliding onto the bench seat next to him. He replied in the affirmative, his deep, gravelly voice matching the rumble of the engine. Situating yourself, thoughts focused on the mission, you almost didn’t hear your name being called. Somehow filtering through the literal and figurative noise, Javier’s voice broke your concentration.

“Wait!”

Frowning, you watched as he jogged up to the side of the truck, his eyes wild with panic. “Don’t leave yet, I have to talk to you.” His words rushed out as he met your gaze. He swallowed thickly before continuing.

“Please.”

You swiveled your head toward Carrillo, who pounded a fist against the steering wheel and replied in short, clipped Spanish.

"Qué carajo, Peña?"

Javier ignored the colonel's outburst, instead keeping his wide brown eyes on yours.

"Please, just give me a minute."

Dropping your head you sighed loudly, throwing an apologetic glance at Carrillo before opening the door.

“You have exactly one minute, Javi.”

He walked a few feet away from the truck and you followed behind, wondering what had shifted his mood so drastically. Inside, his dark eyes had been alight with frustration, impatience, even anger. Now, he radiated a frantic energy that exacerbated your anxiety. You watched silently as he raked his hand through his dark hair and braced his hands against his hips.

“Javi, talk,” you insisted, crossing your arms protectively against your chest. He blinked at you, ran a hand roughly over his face, and exhaled deeply.

“Don’t go.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you exploded, foregoing your defensive stance in favor of throwing your hands up in the air. “Are you that much of an asshole that you really don’t trust me to handle this on my own?”

You turned to leave, furious, making it only a step before Javier’s warm hand wrapped around your bicep, pulling you back to face him.

“It’s not about the goddamn mission,” he growled through gritted teeth, his face inches from yours. He paused, eyes locked on yours, before continuing in a low, fierce voice.

“I can’t risk something happening to you."

You shook your head, blood rushing in your ears. What was he trying to say? Was this some perverse way to get you to abandon the mission, by using your feelings for him to manipulate you?

“No,” you pushed at his broad shoulders, forcing him to release you. “You can't do this...I won’t let you do this, not now. I have to go, Javier.”

You turned away, jogging back to the truck and throwing yourself in the passenger seat. Carrillo swung out into the street quickly, the small caravan containing the rest of the Search Bloc following close behind.

Left standing on the concrete as daylight turned to dusk, Javier watched you go with a sinking heart, dread and sheer terror churning in his gut at the idea that he might have missed his last chance to tell you how much you meant to him, how much he needed you. . .

. . . That he was in love with you.

[you-are-my-joy]

The Return of an Empress | 08

Title: The Return of an Empress

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Isekai, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Smut (Later on), Slow burn

Characters: Empress!Reader, Advisor!Jin, Advisor!Yoongi, General!Hoseok, Advisor!Namjoon, Assassin!Jimin, Knight!Taehyung, Knight!Jungkook

Word count: ~9.2k

Summary: After one fateful night, you find yourself transmigrated into your favorite novel as the Empress that shares the same name as you. As a bookworm, most would think you’d be happy, but how could you be happy when the Empress you’ve become is expected to be killed in three months. The only thing on your mind now is to learn how to survive.

Warning: May contain depictions of violence and mentions of abuse throughout the story.

Masterlist

<< previous chapter  | ♡ |  next chapter >>

“Here you go, your majesty,” Joy offers you a glass of water before preparing your bed for you to sleep in.

Your eyes soften at the girl, “Thank you Joy,” you gratefully take the water and nearly drink it in one gulp. Absolutely exhausted after everything that has happened.

“Long day?” Joy teases as she takes the now empty glass from your hand. 

You let out a long sigh, stretching your arms above your head, “don’t even get me started.” Joy purses her lips, giving you a sad expression as she can see how tired you were, both mentally and physically. She wishes she could help further, but the most she could do is attend to your needs, but honestly, that’s all you really need at the moment. 

To say it was a long day would be an absolute understatement as you recall the events that occurred. From the morning of the beheadings, to dealing with reporters, and finally to consoling a crying Yoongi, yup, it was most definitely a very long day. 

You close your eyes as you think about your time with Yoongi just a few hours ago. 

Yoongi sniffs before pulling away, his red puffy eyes looking at your now damp shoulder, suddenly feeling embarrassed for breaking down right in front of you. But that doesn’t stop him from grabbing hold of your hands, “I’m so sorry for everything, for not being there for you when you need me the most,” his tearful gaze staring straight at you, glossy eyes on the verge of producing more tears. 

He continues as he lets out a shaky breath, “I’m sorry for giving up on you,” his voice cracks as a fresh batch of tears begin to form in his eyes. 

You give him a soft smile as you reach a hand to wipe away at his tears, “I forgive you,” you whisper softly. 

Yoongi closes his eyes, savoring this moment as you caress his cheek gently. “You shouldn’t,” he whispers as he tearfully looks at you with a downcasted look.

However, you two didn’t stay in that position for long as your presence was urgently needed elsewhere when Joy called for you. You remember looking back regretfully towards Yoongi, but he only nods, understanding that you’d be busy with the whole scandal. He ushered you out of the room, gingerly placing his palm to your back. Promising to speak to you privately when the whole ordeal dies down. 

And so despite having such a long day, you can’t help but feel like things worked out in the end. You no longer have to deal with Lee Joong-Gu nor do you have to worry about Yoongi. You had always planned to reconcile with Yoongi at some point in the future, but you never imagined it would transpire like that, with the usual cold advisor breaking down his walls and sobbing in your arms. But you can't help but feel like a weight is off your shoulder.

The only thing on your mind now is what’s going to happen when you’re attending the meeting tomorrow. Because for the first time since you’ve arrived in this world, all eight of you would be present in the same room. You’re not sure how that would turn out considering how tense it was when only five men were in the same room. You can only imagine what would occur with all seven, but you try to remain positive, only hoping that the meeting would run as smoothly as possible. 

This was probably one of the most awkward things you’ve ever had to sit through.

Here you are, all eight of you sitting around in a circular table in complete silence as you eye the men wearily. Initially it was only just going to be you, Hoseok, and the three advisors, but the three youngest insisted that they attend this meeting as well. And yet, no one has the courage to speak up in front of each other. The only sounds coming from Taehyung’s fingers tapping against the hardwood in a steady beat. Meanwhile the rest of the men fidget in their seats impatiently, avoiding eye contact with one another. 

You let out a sigh, unable to handle this any further. Here goes nothing. You clear your throat, immediately gaining everyone’s attention, “Thank you for being here everyone, we have a lot to talk about.” 

Hoseok nods his head, crossing his arms, “indeed we do.”

You turn your attention to Namjoon sitting in front of you, “I’m sure you have a list of things to discuss about,” you wave your hand, “take it away,” you lean back in your chair crossing your legs, ready for whatever's about to come. 

Namjoon looks down at the countless documents in front of him as he skims through its contents, “we need to first discuss what we plan to do with former Grand Duke Lee Joong-Gu.” Offering you a tentative glance before looking through the documents once more. 

You hum, leaning against the arms of your chair, “Who will be inheriting the late grand duke's wealth?” you ask curiously. 

“His eldest daughter, Lee Yuri, is the heir,” Namjoon answers without raising his head to look at you. 

Suddenly, Jin speaks up, “We should thoroughly investigate her and the rest of the family,” he glares down at the documents as if they were cursed, “his butler turned himself in for knowing about the drugs, who’s to say more people don't know about it either. We should take them away and put them in the dungeons before that happens.” You hear many of the men murmur their agreement to his statement. 

You, however, try to avoid eye contact, pretending to busy yourself with looking over the documents, trying not to act suspicious because you know she’s innocent. Despite being a god awful human being, the grand duke truly did love his family and made sure that they never knew about the drugs in hopes of protecting them. If he ever got caught, he didn’t want to bring them down with him. His only decision in life that you agreed on.

You nod, “we will go through with investigating his family.” You didn’t want to, knowing they were innocent, but how could you explain yourself without them thinking you’ve gone crazy.

You raise your head to look around the room, “however, the investigation will commence a week after today.”

Hoseok furrows his eyebrows, “I’m sorry but I have to disagree,” he butts in, “we need to take them into custody just to play safe. What if they hide every evidence of their involvement during that time frame?”

There are none. Is what you want to say. But you know without any proof to back up your claim, they would never believe you.

“They just witnessed the beheading of their father, that’s not something that’s easy to get over. We should give them time to grieve,” you suggest. You watch the rest of the men eye each other wearily, clearly opposed to your idea. 

“Their father is a criminal,” Yoongi grinds out with clenched teeth.

“Does that automatically mean they’re criminals as well?” you question with a raised brow. 

He crosses his arms as he leans back against his chair, lips pursed with displeasure, “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Just because he was their father doesn’t mean they share the same morals,” you defend.

Jin only sighs, “I understand where you’re coming from, but chances are, they probably knew about it too. We shouldn’t risk anything and take them in,” his tone cold and disapproving. 

“Let’s put it this way,” you start, “they’re automatically being labelled as criminals just because they’re his family without any solid evidence,” you furrow your eyes, waving your hand around, “does that sound fair to you?”

The men remain silent, urging you to continue, “You have to also think about what they’re going through. Because not only has their father betrayed the empire, he betrayed them, surely that’s not a good feeling to have. Their family reputation is in shambles because of him all because he chose his greed over his own family,” your voice rising with each passing second.

Hoseok cocks a brow, both surprised and confused over your sudden behavior, “why are you so persistent with this?” 

“Because I don’t want to be responsible for-“ their death. 

You stop yourself. You got too emotional and nearly almost blurted out something you shouldn’t. 

In the sequel to the story, where the Grand Duke finally gets exposed, it’s revealed that not only does he have to pay the price for his crimes, but his family does too. The boys were far too emotional to make any rational decisions due to the scandal. In their fit of anger and need for revenge, they investigated and apprehended every family member of the criminals associated with the drugs, starting with Lee Joong-Gu’s. 

They didn’t care that the family was still in the early stages of grief, because to them, they were just the family of the man that ruined their lives.

And for that reason, they didn’t care when they got ridiculed publicly or when their name was absolutely stomped on in the tabloids. Even when they were proven to be innocent, they didn’t do anything to stop the harsh treatment they received from society.

His family never had time to grieve, their emotions bottled up due to all the attention they were receiving. Where the eldest daughter was essentially known as the daughter that killed the late empress, despite her efforts in trying to rebuild their reputation that title followed her everywhere she went. 

And when the entire family took their own lives, unable to handle the bankruptcy and excessive bullying, the empire rejoiced. They were innocent, yet their lives were ruined all because they trusted someone who promised to protect them. It wasn’t fair. 

“Your majesty?”

You blink, “huh?”

Jimin eyes you in concern, “You didn’t want to be responsible for what?”

You clear your throat, an attempt to compose yourself as you try to to avoid their prying eyes, “I didn’t want to be responsible for ruining people’s lives if they turned out to be innocent.” 

Yoongi scowls, clearly against your decision, “You’re being too lenient,” he points at the document angrily, “they could retaliate and avenge their father!”

You suck in a deep breath, calming down as you stare deep into his eyes, “Yoongi do you trust me?” 

He stills for a moment, before his eyes soften at this. He hesitates before nodding his head reluctantly, “yes, I do.”

You offer him a weak smile, thankful and surprised he admitted to that so easily, “then please trust in me on this as well,” your pleading eyes boring into his.

Yoongi sighs, before slumping down in his chair in defeat, wanting to avoid conflict after somewhat reconciling with you the day before. He didn’t want to risk causing more tension when you two have a lot more to talk about. So for now, he’ll just have to suck it up and deal with it.

You look around the room, immediately taking note of their displeased expressions, “any objections?” 

Suddenly the sound of a chuckle echoes around the room as Hoseok shakes his head, “seeing as how Yoongi hyung wasn’t able to get through you, neither of us have a chance,” he leans on the table with a smirk, “let’s hope her majesty’s judgment is correct.”

You turn your head back to Namjoon, “alright, what’s next on the list.” But before he could utter a word, Jimin suddenly rises to his feet.

“Wait!” he calls out, causing you and many of the other men to jump in surprise, he sends you all a sheepish smile before continuing, “there’s something important I need to say,” you watch as he chews on his bottom lip, lost in deep thought wondering how to explain himself, his expression tight and strained. 

You nod your head, giving him permission to speak. He runs his fingers through his hair with shaking hands as he lets out a low chuckle, “I believe now is the time to break my fingers.” He stares at you, shoulders slumped while doing so. 

You frown, “Why would I do that?”

“Because I broke our promise,” his head hangs low, unable to look you in the eye, “I wasn’t able to protect you.”

You thought for a moment, tilting your head, “I’m sorry Jimin but can you explain more?”

He nods, straightening his posture, “The night of the ball, after the criminals were apprehended,” he starts before carefully thinking of his next words, “there were spies in the area,” his voice low and tense.

Everyone freezes, as they process what he said. Spies? 

“There were spies in the area?” Jin asked, rephrasing the statement into a question as though it were a surprise as he leans on the table.

Just when you thought you had nothing else to worry about, here comes Jimin dropping a huge bomb on all of you. You begin to feel immensely anxious, as this has never occurred in the novel, but seeing how much you've managed to change the story from the original plot, you’re not entirely surprised. 

You clear your throat, stomach contracting into a tight ball, “can you please describe what happened?” you know this would only stress you out more, but you needed to know all the details.

Jimin bites his bottom lip, “I was watching the scene from above the dome ceiling, when I saw movement from the corner of my eyes,” he hangs his head low, feeling ashamed over his actions, “I was so immersed in the scene from below that I didn’t do my job correctly and only saw the spy at the last minute.”

He lets out a shaky breath before turning to you, his eyes brimming with tears, “They managed to escape, I’m sorry,” his voice cracking and tight. You want to go and soothe him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move at the sudden stab of anxiety in your gut.

The men stiffen at the sudden revelation, fidgeting in their seat as their eyes dart between everyone’s shocked faces around the circular table. 

“It gets worse,” Jimin adds in a low voice causing everyone to snap in his direction.

Jin lets out an exasperated sigh as he rubs his temples, “How could it get any worse than this?”

Jimin gives you all a weak smile, “There was more than one,” he confesses, voice edged with tension.

Taehyung chokes on his own spit, “What do you mean there were more than one?” His voice rose an octave in disbelief. 

Jimin’s lip grows thin and firm, he explains to the group how when he was chasing after the person, an onslaught of arrows flew past his head before he could even grab hold of the person’s cloak. Too many arrows at a time to be just one person. 

Namjoon groans, already feeling the uncomfortable ache in his head developing beneath his temples as he buries his head in his hands, “I thought once the drugs were dealt with, we’d have nothing major to worry about,” he raises his head, his tired expression showing, “now you’re telling me we have to deal with spies too?”

Taeheyung sighs tiredly, “took the words right out of my mouth,” he turns his head to you, “seems like her majesty has a lot of enemies.”

Truthfully, you knew many people opposed the empress, most of them were nobles who lost their power and authority when she began her reign. And for that reason, you’re unable to deduce the list to one person. You groan, slumping lazily on your seat as you lean against the chair. 

Hoseok’s mouth quirk upward, slightly amused at your posture, “could it be an old fling enacting their revenge? How many people have you been with again?” he teases as he leans on the table, an attempt to lighten the mood seeing how stressed you’ve become.  

You glare in his direction, not at all in the mood to laugh at any jokes, “mind your own business,” you grumble.

But the man only laughs as he grins back at you, “I’m not sure you’re aware of this, but you are my business, Y/n.”

This especially doesn’t go past Yoongi as his eyes widen by his statement, “Y/n?” he questions in disbelief. 

Jin looks up at Yoongi, eyeing his reaction, “her majesty gave Taehyung and Jungkook permission to address her by her name,” he explains, careful not to set the advisor off with his words, but he cocks a brow in Hoseok's direction, “although I was unaware she extended this to Hoseok.” But the said man only shrugs. 

You flinch when Yoongi and Jimin whirls their head in your direction, face unreadable as their hardened eyes stare you down. You clear your throat, straightening your posture as you stare at everyone, “well, I was actually planning on extending this to all of you at some point during this meeting,” you send them an uncertain smile, “guess now is as good a time as any.”

Jin raises a brow, “Really?” his disbelief evident in his expression. Though you give him a small smile, nodding your head in confirmation. 

Jimin’s breath hitches, “You’ll allow me to call you by your name, despite failing you?”

Your eyes soften in his direction, “Jimin you didn’t fail me, you saw the spies despite how dark it was outside and informed all of us. That’s more than I could ask for from you,” you reach your hand to wrap around his, squeezing it gently, “you did well, thank you,” you send him a reassuring smile.

You see his eyes becoming glossy as he looks away from your stare, sucking in a breath to compose himself before turning back to you. He squeezes your hand in return as the corners of his lips curve upward, more than grateful for your words.

Jungkook, who has been silently listening and observing this entire time, looks up hesitantly, “what do we do now?” 

Everyone in the room looks around, unsure of how to answer his question before you clear your throat, “we don’t know if there are more spies in the palace, I think all we can do is keep this to ourselves for now and just observe our surroundings more closely,” you suggest, watching as the rest of the men nod in agreement. 

“This is why you’re the empress,” Taehyung yawns as he stretches his arms above his head, feeling a lot more relaxed as compared to how he was just moments before.

Just then, Jimin stands up, gently pulling on your joined hands for you to rise on your feet as well. “I think that’ll be enough for today.” You watch as Jungkook and Taehyung stand up as well, preparing to leave.

Namjoon shifts in his seat as he stares at them incredulously, “We’re not done!” waving frantically at the countless documents on the table.

“I understand but there was a lot to process during this meeting,” Taehyung states, then points at you, “I personally believe her majesty should let off some steam.”

Instead of giving a snarky reply, Namjoon only groans as he waves you all off. Taehyung quirks a brow, “You surprisingly gave up a lot sooner than I expected.”

But the advisor just lets out a sigh as he gives him a bored expression, “it’s not like you’re going to listen to me no matter what I say, and frankly, I don’t have the energy left in me to make you all stay.” You can tell he was being serious as he stares at you all in a tired manner. Surprisingly, the rest of the men had similar expressions, you had thought Yoongi or Jin would put in their two cents, but contrary to what you expected, they remained silent.  

Taehyung winks, “glad we’re on the same page,” he salutes goodbye to the older males, “if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be taking our leave,” he moves to grab hold of your other hand as he begins to lead you three out the door. 

You tilt your head, you let them lead you out the room despite being confused over the situation, “What are we doing?”

Taehyung doesn’t turn around, but you can tell he’s smirking, “I was thinking we should do some training,” he starts, “seeing as how there’s spies we gotta worry about now.”

Your eyes widen as you stare at the back of his head, “We?”

You hear Jungkook snicker from beside you as he throws an arm around your shoulder lazily, “Yes, we are going to train.” His grin grew wider at the sight of your horrified expression.

Please have mercy on my soul.

You didn’t realize Taehyung was actually being serious about the whole training session, not until he ushered you into your bedroom calling for Joy to gather a change of lighter clothes that allows you to move more freely. And now here you are in the palace courtyard, absolutely dreading what was about to come. 

“Alright, who's going up against our dear empress,” Jimin claps his hands excitedly. 

In the next second, Jungkook raises his hand in the air, as Taehyung laughs and pats his shoulder, “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a volunteer.” Jungkook winks at you and you do your best to smile back at him, but if anything it came out more of a grimace. 

“I’m betting on Y/n,” Jimin suddenly calls out before pointing at Taehyung, “you’re stuck with supporting Jungkook.”

Taehyung stops walking as he furrows his eyes, “No fair! I had my bets set on Y/n from the beginning!” He whines loudly. 

Jungkok scoffs from beside you, carrying two wooden swords in his hands, “Should I be offended that none of you believe in me?”

But Taehyung just shrugs his shoulders, “You’re going up against the empress herself, can you really blame us?” 

“Fair enough,” Jungkook grumbles, almost as if he was already admitting defeat as he hands you your sword. 

You chuckle nervously, your palms beginning to sweat as you grip on the handle of the sword tightly, “I’m afraid you’re giving me far too much credit,” you joke to hide the fact that you were absolutely terrified when the sparring began. In any other situation, you would be drooling over Jungkook’s biceps, but at the moment, you can’t help but shiver in fear knowing he was strong enough to crush you in a second. At this point you’re desperately praying for muscle memory to finally come to your rescue.

Taehyung huffs, “fine, I’ll place my bets on Jungkook,” he grumbles at last, clearly upset over his current situation.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Gee thanks,” he replies sarcastically. “I wasn’t aware we were even betting money on this.”

Jimin smirks as he shrugs, “makes things more interesting, y’know.” 

Taehyung whips his head, staring at him incredulously, “Yeah for you! You’re betting on Y/n. You practically win by default!” Taehyung snaps before raising his palm in Jungkook’s direction, “No offense Jungkookie.”

“None taken.”

You shake your head, no longer fazed by their childish banters at this point, “How much are you even betting on,” raising a container, similar to a water bottle, up to your lips.

“50 gold coins.”

You spit out your drink, “50 gold coins?” you cough. During your first few days, you were curious to know the value of those gold coins, so you did a little research in the library. Apparently 1 gold coin was enough to feed an entire village for a month. Now they’re betting 50? “Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive for a measly bet?” your eyes widen as you switch between Jimin and Taehyung.

Taehyung nods as he takes your side immediately, “I agree 100% with Y/n.”

Jimin only rolls his eyes, “You’re only saying that because you’re betting on Jungkook,” he points accusingly.

“And you’re only happy about that cause you’re betting on Y/n!” He snaps right back at him.

Jimin pauses, “Well… I can’t argue with that.”

“See!”

Just then, Jungkook turns to you with a mischievous smile.

Oh no.

“Why don’t we make this even more interesting,” he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows in your direction. 

You raise a brow, “I’m listening.” You know nothing good could come out of this, especially at the way he was looking at you.

He smirks, “why don’t we have a bet of our own. Loser fulfils one wish from the winner.”

You hum, before turning your attention to Jimin. “Team meeting,” you call out, gesturing to him to come to you.

Jimin raises a brow before laughing, jogging up to you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you huddle in your own ‘private’ space. 

“This bet seems kinda risky. You think I should accept it?”

Jimin nods his head seriously, “Of course. I wouldn’t have made a bet on you if I didn’t believe in you completely,” he scoffs before pointing behind him, “I mean look at the kid, does he really look like a hard person to beat?”

You nod, turning your head to eye him down, playing along with him, “You’re right, looking closer he’s really not all that.” 

“Guys I can still hear you.”

Jimin waves him off, “Ignore him, anyway I think you should take him up on this offer.”

“Got it. Alright, good discussion.” You two break apart as you look at the now glaring knight. “We’ve come to a conclusion, Jeon Jungkook, I accept this bet.” You stick your hand out, he smirks before you’re both shaking hands in agreement. 

You turn to look at Jimin as he gives you a thumbs up with a wide reassuring smile - your very own cheerleader. 

You turn your attention back to Jungkook, only for your eyes to widen into saucers when his abs make a sudden appearance. You were definitely not mentally prepared for this as the author never mentioned anything about articles of clothing being removed during training. Jungkook, having noticed your ogling winks at you, “try not to drool too much.”

You only roll your eyes, turning away, embarrassed you were caught staring, “not much to drool over.” Oh who were you kidding, his body was practically sculpted by the gods. And you're sure he knows this too, based on his reaction.

Instead of getting snarky or offended at your words, he only shakes his head with a low chuckle before smirking back at you.

Alright. You admit. That was kinda hot. 

You gulp nervously as he begins to stretch, his muscles flexing with every movement. At this point you just hope you make it out alive.

“Showoff,” Jimin exclaims loudly, now sitting on a nearby bench on the side. 

Jungkook smirks, “no need to be jealous hyung.” Making a show to flex his muscles even more in ridiculous poses.

Jimin only rolls his eyes before turning his attention back to you, “Y/n, do me a favor and beat his ass.”

You let out a chuckle, “I’ll do my best.” 

At this point, you four caught the attention of many passing knights and maids who were initially confused and curious about what was going on. But once they caught on to what was happening, many are now conveniently standing at a distance, pretending to do work when in reality they were anticipating this match just as much as Jimin and Taehyung.

Jungkook smirks up at you, “Ready to feel defeat?” A glint in his eyes screaming trouble.

You let out a huff of air as you stretch your arms and legs, “I’d like to see you try.” 

“What should we do regarding the rebellion?”

After the meeting, the three advisors stayed behind after you were seemingly dragged out by the younger boys out the room. Hoseok had to leave soon after as he needed to go do his daily routine of checking up on the knights training. And so that only left the three advisors to their own thoughts. 

“Well isn’t it obvious, we step down,” Namjoon states confidently. The three men grow silent as they take in the immense weight that statement holds. The realization that the rebellion that they’ve all planned meticulously for almost a year now, is about to come to an end. They knew stepping down meant finally admitting that the empress has returned and was no longer the tyrant they all detested. 

Jin looks around the room wearily, “let’s not speak here, we can talk about it another time,” he whispers. Although the room was quiet and desolate, he didn’t want to take any chances of anyone eavesdropping on their conversation. Especially if it was in regards to the rebellion now that spies were suddenly a problem, “And besides, Hoseok’s not here, we need to know where he stands in all this as well.” 

Namjoon nods his head understandingly, “I agree, I think all we can do now, is be careful of our surroundings and wait until we’re in a safe private area to discuss further.” All three men rise to their feet, collecting the documents before heading out the door. 

“You know hyung,” Namjoon starts, eyeing Yoongi as they walk down the halls, “I’m glad to hear that you reconciled with Y/n yesterday.” 

“Hoseok told us everything this morning,” Jin clarifies.

Yoongi hums, not looking at either men in the eye, “I wouldn’t necessarily say we reconciled completely as there’s still a lot to talk about.”

“Let’s hope that once all this get settled, we’ll all have time to properly speak to each other, I believe we all owe her that much,” Jin clutches the documents in his hands as his eyes narrow down at them, a painful reminder of their mistreatment towards the empress when she was being taken advantage of. Namjoon and Yoongi nod sadly, too ashamed of their past actions to look each other in the eye as a wave of guilt washes over all three of them. 

But they don’t dwell on that feeling for long when suddenly a small group of maids and knights shuffles quickly right past them, many buzzing with excitement as they make their way to what seemed like the direction of the courtyard.

All three men turn to face one another, immensely confused over the situation especially when they see more palace staff rushing past them. Curiosity got the best of them before they too began to follow the crowd. 

They could almost hear distant cheering as they followed the small group. The closer they got the louder the cheers became. When they rounded the corner, they were surprised to find a crowd of maids and knights huddled around the many windows that were now opened.

And they were especially surprised to find Hoseok being among the bunch. He notices the advisors immediately and waves them over, “C’mon you’re gonna miss the show!” Using his General privileges, he managed to snag his own window to himself to watch the show.

Namjoon raises a brow as he approaches the general, “Thought you had to go observe the knights?”

Hoseok chuckles, “I am,” he states as a matter of factly as he points around the area, “they’re all here.” Well they couldn’t deny that as it almost did seem as though every person present in the palace was at attendance. They wouldn’t be surprised if that actually was the case.

Yoongi winces at the loud cheers around him, “What’s going on?” They were even more confused than ever before as the palace has never been this active in all their years of staying there. 

Instead of responding, Hoseok only smiles and nods his head at the window. They all turn and simultaneously widen their eyes at the sight before them.

Jin lurches forward against the open window, “Is that her majesty?!” his eyes bulging out from their sockets at the way you and Jungkook fought, flinching at an especially hard blow that Jungkook gives you, only for you to retaliate with your foot against his face, “They’re going too hard on each other!” he then snaps his head to Hoseok, “Whose idea was-” 

“HIT HIM WITH THE OLD ONE TWO, Y/N!” Jimin cheers loudly, standing on the bench, throwing punches in the air.

“C’MON JUNGKOOK DON’T FUCKING EMBARRASS ME! I’M RISKING A LOT OF MONEY FOR SUPPORTING YOU!” Taehyung yells on the side, standing on the bench as well.

Jin deadpans, “Why do I get this feeling like I already know the answer to this question.”

Hoseok bellows loudly, “Because you probably do,” he pats his shoulder, “just enjoy the show hyung, Jungkook and Y/n aren’t going nearly as hard on each other as they would normally do in a real fight.” 

Namjoon nods as he leans against the window frame, “He’s right, believe it or not, they’re actually holding themselves back at the moment.” Jin sighs in defeat as he relents and faces the window, desperately hoping this whole thing would end soon.

A shaky breath escapes your lips, as Jungkook breathes heavily from across you. You were surprisingly holding yourself really well against the significantly larger knight, extremely thankful to see muscle memory coming into play as it almost seemed like your body moved on its own. And as a result, it was an exhilarating match between the empress and one of the strongest knights in the empire.

Loud cheers catch your attention as there is now a large group of guards and maids crowding around the area to watch the spectacle, while some maids and knights had a nice view from above through the open windows in the palace. It wasn’t every day they got to see the empress fighting, so they were definitely not going to waste this opportunity.

Jungkook wipes sweat off his forehead, the action catching your eye immediately, “Seems like her majesty is a crowd favorite.”

You chuckle back at him, “Probably cause they know I’m gonna win,” you tease with a wink. You know you’re probably an equally sweaty mess as well but neither one of you seem to mind in the slightest. 

Jungkook doesn’t back down as you see a slight smirk forming on his lips, “Don’t get too cocky now Y/n, I was going easy on you earlier,” he readies his stance, “Now, it’s the real deal.” As if proving his statement, he suddenly lunges forward with his wooden sword.

Miraculously, you managed to dodge his attack as you swiftly duck down and move to the side. This catches Jungkook off guard as he had expected you to block his attack at hand, not move away. You take advantage of this as you swing your legs against the back of his knees, causing the knight to stumble forward as he attempts to regain his posture. But you don’t allow him a second to breathe as you continue your attack by kicking his back, causing him to completely lose his balance and fall onto the ground. 

You hear multiple people squeal in delight over the move, especially the two loudest in the vicinity.

“OH YEAH THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKIN’ ABOUT!” Jimin cheers with his fists in the air. High-fiving a random knight who was equally as thrilled as him. 

Meanwhile Taehyung was pulling at his hairs in frustration, “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT JUNGKOOK? A COMPLETE DISAPPOINTMENT THAT’S WHAT!”

Jungkook rolls on his back and impressively kicks his feet in the air until he’s back standing. He whirls around to face Taehyung angrily, “You call that supporting?!”

“Kinda hard to support you when she’s clearly kicking your ass!” Taehyung snaps back at him. 

Jungkook turns his head around to face you when he hears you giggle, a faint smile on your face as your eyes lock onto one another. He raises a brow, “Her majesty thinks this is funny?” 

“Hilarious actually,” you smirk.

This time, it was you who made the first move, you lunged with your wooden sword, swinging it in the air aiming for his chest. Jungkook blocked this with ease, grunting as he roughly pushes you off him, only to give a swing of his own in your direction. 

Sucking in a breath, you quickly take a step further behind you, arching your back slightly, just barely dodging the tip of his sword before ducking down and swinging your sword from below.

But this practically does nothing either as Jungkook dodges your attack as well.

The two of you go at it for some time, neither one of you submitting to the other. There was no denying that Jungkook was an extremely talented knight. With the way his calculating eyes analyze your every move, almost predicting what your next attack would be, made it easy for him to defend himself. 

But the same could be said about you. You managed to defend yourself surprisingly well. Even having the strength to counter his attacks. A testimony to how the empress gained her position. 

Jungkook had long since lost his smirk as his narrowed eyes bore into you, now giving his full concentration in the fight. And with that he steps forward, you get ready to counter his attack, but instead of going for you, he aims his attack at your sword. And before you know it, your sword is thrusted into the air as Jungkook uses all his force for you to lose your grip. 

You widen your eyes as you look at the now smug knight before you. You raise a brow. So that’s how you wanna be? You smirk, two can play at that game.

In the next second, Jungkook swings his sword with precision, but you weren’t going to let him take advantage of you, so instead of dodging his attack, you eye the sword's movement and as if everything moved in slow motion, you somehow catch the wooden object right in between your hands.

Jungkook widens his eyes in disbelief. You take advantage of his momentary shock when you twist and throw his own sword to the side with ease.  

“If I can’t have my sword then neither can you.”

Jungkook chuckles as he clenches his fist, “fair enough.” He rolls his head, “I always did prefer hand-to-hand combat anyway,” and with that he takes a step back, before bringing his foot in the air aiming for your side. You dodge his attack, and retaliate with your own. 

The crowd watches with bated breaths as you two were a perfect match. Where Jungkook excelled in strength, you excelled in skill and swiftness. With his muscles, Jungkook could easily overpower you, but your nimble feet somehow managed to move before he could lay his hands on you, much to his annoyance.

“Stay still,” he says with gritted teeth, a drop of sweat falling down his face.

You let out a tired breath, “never,” you wheeze out, weaving your way out of his reach, successfully dodging his attack once more. 

You take a step forward, and with clenched fists you throw a punch aimed towards his stomach, but Jungkook catches your wrist and pulls you forward before turning your body around, wrapping his arms around your shoulder. His biceps successfully caging you in, rendering you motionless. 

“BOO HISS,” Jimin exclaims loudly, clearly not a fan of your current predicament. 

Taehyung only swats him away, suddenly feeling a surge of confidence over his friend, “C’MON JUNGKOOKIE!”

You feel his bare body pressed against your back as he tightens his hold. His head lowering until you feel his ragged breathing by your ear, “Ready to admit defeat my dear empress?” he whispers lowly causing shivers down your spine. You suck in a breath. Focus Y/n, now is not the time to fangirl.

You look down before smirking, “That would imply that you’ve beaten me, so no,” as disgusting as it sounds, your bodies covered in sweat allowed you to escape his viper-like grip by seemingly sliding out of his grasp. And in one swift movement, you turn your body to face him. He attempts to bring you back by grabbing your forearm, jerking you forward, but you use that momentum to your advantage by raising your knee towards his abdomen. 

Jungkook grunts upon impact as he stumbles backwards, you move to kick at his chest, but he catches your ankle mid-air and twists it, careful enough as to not sprain your ankle, but enough force to cause you to lose your balance. 

Your breath hitches as you suddenly find yourself laying flat on the ground. Jungkook, having composed himself after your hard blow, lunges forward, you roll away, successfully dodging his feet. But from your position on the ground, you widen your eyes as you notice something laying right beside your head. 

Though you don’t have much time to think when suddenly you feel a weight over you as Jungkook roughly turns you around and is now practically on top of you. His legs caging you in like an animal. Looking up, you find that he’s grabbed hold of his fallen sword and is now swinging it in circles calmly from above you. 

He smirks triumphantly, “Not going to lie, this is a very nice view,” he snickers as you glare up at him, “any last words before I win?” However, he stops short when he notices a smile forming on your lips. “What?”

You giggle mockingly, “you talk too much,” this time it’s your turn to smirk.

He furrows his brows until he feels something sharp poking him. Looking down, he’s shocked to find that you had managed to retrieve your wooden sword. Which, by sheer luck, was laying right beside your head on the ground and is now pointed directly at his stomach. In a real life scenario Jungkook would’ve died. 

And for that reason, you won.

Jimin is seen laughing his ass off as he too realized that the winner in this intense match was indeed you. While Taehyung looks absolutely miserable right beside him as he slumps down in defeat. The two friends expressing a wave of emotions, contrasting one another.

The crowd around you cheers loudly, the sound deafening as if the entire empire were present to watch the spectacle. 

Jungkook lets out a low chuckle as he finally admits defeat, “I should’ve known better than to think it would be that easy to beat you,” he states before looking down at you, “but no matter what it seems I can never outsmart her majesty.” 

You wink up at him, “better luck next time Jungkookie.” He only smiles softly down at you. 

But it’s only now do you realize the position you both were in. His body straddling yours, with his abs on full display right in front of you. You feel blood rush up to your cheeks at his almost predatory gaze, that you can’t handle it and turn your head away from the man on top of you. 

You swear you could see him smirk from the corner of your eyes before he shakes head and stands up. He offers you his hand, to which you gratefully reach for before he pulls you up to your feet. 

“I can’t believe you lost,” Taehyung whines as both he and Jimin begin to approach the two of you. You giggle at how disheveled Taehyung looked, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was the one fighting instead of Jungkook. You can only imagine the thoughts going through his mind with his stress level rising with each passing second. 

Though Jimin grins widely as he runs up to you with open arms. You widen your eyes, raising your arms in front of you, “W-Wait Jimin I’m sweaty,” but the boy doesn’t mind as he wraps his arms around your waist and twirls you around.

Jimin laughs, “I knew you could do it!” 

You giggle, the sound causing his heart to skip a beat. He widens his grin, finally putting you back down on the ground as he stares at you feeling proud. 

You beam back at him, “Thank you for believing in me,” you say sincerely.

His eyes soften as he smiles at you adoringly, “Always.”

“I would just like to clarify I believed in you as well,” Taehyung suddenly butts in, but Jimin pays him no mind as he waves him off.

Just then you suddenly hear clapping, turning around and you find Yoongi slowly approaching you four along with Namjoon, Jin and Hoseok trailing not too far behind him. Despite his calm demeanor, you can tell at closer inspection that he was fighting off a proud smile.

“Good job,” he finally speaks up when he reaches you. Your eyes widen, stunned before looking at his face, trying to confirm if what you heard was right. His cheeks glowing a tint of red when you don’t say anything. 

You grin at his sudden timidness, “thank you.” He nods before turning his head, suddenly feeling too shy to look you in the eye. But you don’t comment any more, more than grateful to see him making an effort to act nice.

The three older men finally join the rest of you. Jin lets out a sigh as he eyes both of your bodies being littered with bruises, “now did you two have to go that hard for you to get harmed like this?”

Yoongi scoffs just then, rolling his eyes, “oh quit your nagging old man, they look fine to me.” 

Jin lets out an offended noise as he snaps his head to look at him in disbelief, “old man?! Now you listen here-“

Hoseok shoves his way between the older males, successfully silencing the both of them as he grins at you, “that was an amazing show your majesty!” he grins, “when you’re up for it, I want a turn next,” he winks.

You let out a tired chuckle, “It would be an honor to go up against the great Jung Hoseok.” You two smile at each other, you know he was joking, but you can tell there was some truth to his statement. 

“Drinks on Taehyung!” Jimin suddenly announces with a wide grin. 

The said knight whirls around with comical wide eyes, “That wasn’t part of the deal!”

Jimin laughs tauntingly, “No, the bet was you give me 50 gold coins. And I’m going to use that amount to give everyone here a drink. Let’s party!” he pumps his fist in the air excitedly.

“Shouldn’t you ask Y/n for permission to hold a celebration,” you stifle a giggle at the way Taehyung’s pleading eyes meet yours. You can practically see his body language begging you to listen to his pleas. 

But if you’re going to be honest, with everything that’s happened, a moment to let loose and have fun was exactly what you needed. And you’re sure this is something everyone else would appreciate as well. And not to mention, your body being all bruised up was thanks to Taehyung’s brilliant idea to spar. So with that in mind, you give Taehyung a playful wink, turning to the crowd, “Drinks on Sir Taehyung tonight!”

Suddenly a second wave of cheers surround the area that you begin to think even the neighboring kingdoms could hear you. 

Taehyung’s jaw drops as the cheers around you seemingly grow louder. The rest of the boys were amused by the whole situation in front of them, reveling in seeing the usual cocky knight get beaten in seconds by one sentence coming out your mouth. 

“50 gold coins is nothing,” Yoongi hums, crossing his arms. 

Taehyung presses his lips together, narrowing his eyes into thin slits, “A knight's salary is drastically different to the empress’s advisors.”

But the older male shrugs his shoulders with a slight closed-lipped smile, “You’ll be fine. Thanks for the drinks,” he teases, his grin growing even wider at the young knight's apparent annoyed expression.

Namjoon eyes the bruises on your skin in concern, “I believe you should go off to the royal physician before anything else. I can’t have our empress showing up in bruises for everyone to see.”

Jungkook scoffs, “And what about me?”

“What about you?” Namjoon questions with a bored expression.

“I got all bruised up as well! Her majesty isn’t an easy opponent, you know?” as if to prove his point, he makes a show to dramatically point at every bruise, big or small, that you inflicted on him, “Am I not a priority either?”

Namjoon clicks his tongue in displeasure, “you are, but the empress’s health is more important than anything else, don’t you agree?” he asks with a raised brow, as if daring him to challenge his statement.

But Jungkook relents, not having it in him to deny his claim as he agreed to it wholeheartedly. Because to him, you were more important than anything in the world. But Jungkook, being as petty as he is, refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting he was right. So instead he grumbles incoherently under his breath, but you swear you heard him mutter “dickhead” at some point in his rambling. 

You laugh loudly, immediately catching the attention of the men around you, their mood instantly brightening as they smile widely staring at you in adoration. 

This interaction surely doesn’t go unnoticed by the multiple pairs of eyes around you, as many maids swoon over the scene before them. The empress was surrounded by the seven men who were closest to her. They didn’t think it was possible to see them all together again but here you eight are, laughing and teasing as you’re all in your own little world, proving them all wrong. 

“For the record, I let you win,” Jungkook grumbles, pointing a finger towards you as you walk down the halls. After the crowd had dispersed, Namjoon and especially Jin had insisted you both visit the royal physician, neither man was going to take no for an answer, that much you could tell based on their stern expressions and posture. 

So here you are, standing beside Jungkook on your way to get your bruises treated. You can only imagine the look on the poor physician’s face when you two enter with sheepish grins. 

You giggle, “sure, just keep telling yourself that,” you tease as you nudge his arm.

“It’s true,” he pouts childishly.

“Then how do you explain all the other times you’ve been beaten by the empress, hmm?” You can’t help but tease him, especially when he was acting all high and mighty moments before the fight. 

Jungkook only rolls his eyes, “That’s cause i was being a gentleman who just wanted to make you happy.”

You scoff at his lame excuse, playfully pointing at a bruise slowly turning purple on your arm, “you call this being a gentleman?” But you regret saying that statement immediately at the crestfallen look on his face.

His eyes droop as he slowly reaches a hand and gingerly holds your arm in front of him, inspecting the bruises gently, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he utters softly, feeling immensely apologetic, “I just got way too competitive back there.”

You shake your head, smiling it off, “Jungkook I was joking please don’t worry. I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to this. If anything I think I should apologize to you for giving you this monstrosity.” You reach your hand out to gently soothe a rather large bruise on his abdomen in the area you kneed him. Jungkook freezes at your touch, gulping nervously when you caress the bruise absentmindedly.

Jungkook turns away in hopes of hiding his growing blush, “It’s really fine Y/n. I’ve been inflicted with far worse bruises before, this is nothing.” He insists calmly, a stark contrast to his racing thoughts. 

You let out a sigh of relief, “that’s reassuring.” You take your hand away much to Jungkook’s disappointment. 

He clears his throat, “Well since you won,” he playfully gags before laughing when you nudge at his shoulder, “what do you wish for?” 

You hum, only now recalling your small little bet from earlier, “Not sure,” you turn to him, “If you had won, what would have been your wish?” You were curious, he seemed to have been fighting with all his might that you were wondering what his wish was for him to exert so much effort. 

Jungkook stills, as if contemplating whether he should reveal his desires to you or not. You stop walking at the same time he did, now looking at him curiously. And after a few moments of thinking he made up his mind and turned to you. You suddenly feel anxious at his intense gaze. He still hasn’t said anything so you tilt your head, “Jungkook?” He blinks, “what was your wish?”

“I would’ve asked if I could kiss you.”

...

...What?

In an instant your eyes widen into saucers, in complete disbelief that he would actually confess to that. Neither one of you having the courage to speak as you just silently stare at one another.

He held your gaze, but he was slowly losing his confidence the longer you maintained eye contact. His ears turning a bright red as he’s slowly coming to the realization that yes, he indeed just blurted out his feelings like that. 

He hastily turns away, “I-I’m sorry I don’t know what came over me.” And he wasn’t lying, because he too wasn’t sure why he said what he said. In all his years of knowing the empress, never once did he harbor such romantic feelings for her as he looked up to her as one would to a sister. But for some strange reason, this past month he’s been looking at her in a different light. And he honestly has no idea why. Why was he feeling this way after knowing the empress for so long. What changed in the past month for this to happen?

“Do you want to hear my wish?” You finally speak up softly. 

Jungkook, though still blushing, nods his head, unable to meet your eyes. 

You give him a small smile, “My wish was to make you happy,” you turn to look away when he snaps his head in your direction, suddenly feeling embarrassed, “I know how you get when you lose, so I figured I could use my wish to make you happy. Because your happiness is also my happiness, Jungkook.”

You fidget with your hands as you continue, “So if you want me to fulfill your wish then I will.” At this point, you just wanted to dig yourself a hole and swan dive right into it. You can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth but it’s too late. You said it and now you can’t take it back. 

When he remains silent, face unreadable, you begin to stammer nervously, “b-but you don’t have to of course. There’s plenty of other things you could wish for if you-”

But you don’t get to finish your sentence as in the next second, you hear fast footsteps approaching, you raise your head only to suddenly feel a strong grip on your arms pulling you forward until soft pairs of lips land on yours.

You freeze at the sudden realization. 

Jungkook just kissed you.

A/N: Hey! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I feel like we had a lot of drama in the past few chapters. I wanted to have a slightly more light-hearted chapter so here it is!

Haha were you guys expecting Jungkook to be the first one to be kissed? Cause I initially had another member in mind, but ideas always change with me lol

Feel free to let me know what you guys think! 

And as always, thanks so much for reading and hope you all have a wonderful day! 🥰

Tagslist:  (those in bold, I’m not sure if it worked for you, I’m really sorry, I’m not sure how to fix it) (I also apologize if I forgot to add someone, just comment again and I promise to add you in the next one!!)

@reallysparklychaos, @unknownsageking, @casspirit0705, @fangirl125reader, @silscintilla, @serefara29, @chimtaesty-main, @xxqueenwxtchxx, @diamonddia-mond, @vishakhas-world, @purelyecstacy, @resticou, @woopetals, @magicsweetener, @splaterparty0-0, @daydreambrliever, @strangeobjectmaker, @luna-xial, @m0chilattae, @celaenaelentiyavox, @lindsayjoy444, @layzfeelit, @kimsaerom, @songtiddies, @untamedgrape, @sonnymii, @moonssuga, @kassandravictoria, @galaxyflab​, @blank-et-noir,  @nynhope , @midnight1199​, @yessii-i​, @protontippens​, @gguktings, @borahebangtan​, @katkrusade, @handsupanddropthepotato​, @missseoulite​, @cellula-staminale, @red-bow-tie3​, @whateveritis616​, @ggukkieland​, @sbroces​, @nnessworls​, @yoonieebear, @ssols, @totallynoanalien, @kaithezaftig, @seok-jinnies, @just-me-and-myselfs, @writingdust

[boldlyvoid]

Million Dollar Man | Chapter Four

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, discussion of previous sexual relationships with older men (big age gaps), kink talks, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), fingering, 69ing... its really dirty i hope i got it all

word count: 3.8k

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and Saturdays

Chapter Four | Masterlist

Waking up beside Spencer is an absolute blessing, he is the most tender and loving man in the whole world and she’s never going to get enough of him. He snuggles so tight, he holds her just right and he’s just big enough that she fits against him like she’s always supposed to have been there.

Her alarm goes off at 10:30 and he doesn’t even budge, she struggles to get out of his grasp to turn it off before he just pulls her right back in.

“I could get used to this,” she coo’s as she relaxes back into his embrace.

He kisses the back of her neck and one of his hands cups her breast. He runs his nose along her skin as he takes it all in, “I can come back every night.”

“Okay,” she smiles at the thought. “Are you coming with me to Brookfield today?”

He hums, “I have something to pick up first but I’ll be back to pick you up.”

“Do you want to meet Craig?” She asks nervously, knowing he knows.

“I’m not sure,” he’s honest. “It’s weird thinking he’s slept with you and he has a thing for my mother.”

“As weird as it was, I don’t regret it, he was really lonely after Patsy died and hadn’t slept with anyone in years,” she explains it again to him, it’s easier than the first time.

“I’m not judging you,” he whispers before kissing her again.

“I know,” she rolls over while still in his grip, pressing her chest against his and kissing him quickly before remembering her own rule, “pretend it’s still dark out.”

He laughs, “was he at least good to you?”

“Are you really asking me if the old man I fucked was good in bed?” She rolls her eyes with a laugh, “it was fine, I was used to just laying there and taking it back then.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes for her past experiences knowing he can change them and that she's content with them, “can I make it up to you?”

“It's not my birthday,” she teases him once more.

“Then why are you in your birthday suit?” He kisses her neck as her back arches, giving him the access to do whatever he pleased.

This was her favourite part of sleeping with him, he was handsy and he kissed everywhere. He was so tentative, he was gentile and sensual and she loved him. The way he kissed her body, his hands on her back as she arched, grinding against him as his leg slipped between hers.

“Daddy?” She’s already breathless as she anticipates whatever he’s going to do to her.

He hums, “what baby?”

“Can we try something?” She looks at him with puppy dog eyes, wanting more of him and knowing exactly how to get it.

“What?” He looks from her eyes to her lips and back.

She smirks, “lay back?”

He does as she asks and she makes a quick move to straddle him, reverse cowgirl, and it makes him gasp. He hooks his arms under her legs and pulls her hips towards his face as she grips his cock at the base.

She’s never done this before, excited to finally experience her two favourite things at once, with her favourite person. Taking him in one go down her throat as far as she can, he moans against her thigh as he works his way towards her dripping core.

He pulls her in closer, burying his tongue inside of her as she swirls her tongue around the head of his cock, stroking what doesn’t fit in her mouth. She moans around him as he sucks her clit into his mouth. When he slides a finger into her, she gasps as she runs her tongue along the shaft, “more please, daddy?”

He adds a second finger and curls it with each thrust, she strokes him in time with his fingers rubbing her tongue on the slit, pushing him closer and closer and closer until he’s moaning into her cunt as he finger fucks her relentlessly.

She cums on his face with a quake, her whole body shaking as she sucks one of his balls into her mouth and keeps jerking him. He cums over her hand then, finally releasing her clit from his mouth, they both sigh as they come down from their highs.

She rolls off him, feet on her pillow and hand cupping her own breast as she tries to catch her breath, “yeah, I can get used to waking up next to you.”

—

“Bullshit!”

Y/N reaches for the apparent 3 4’s that Craig dropped in the pile, filling them to see he was indeed truthful and handing them to Diana. “You’re slacking today.”

“I do so much better when I don’t know who he is,” Diana smirks as she takes the cards.

“Speaking of,” she smiles to herself as she looks through her own cards, “your son, Spencer, is coming to see you today.”

“How do you know that?”

“I might be dating Spencer,” she scrunches her face in anticipation of her reaction.

“Really?”

She nods, a smile building on her face as she starts to feel a bit flustered, “yeah, I met him last year and we’ve been friends for a while but it’s getting serious, so I thought I’d tell you.”

She’s quiet as she thinks about it and Y/N’s anxiety goes to full blast, “I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” Diana asks.

“For not telling you and pretending I don’t know him,” she's quick with her response. “He knows we know each other from your notes but we didn’t talk about it until last night, I feel so bad keeping that from you but I've known him the whole time.”

“I was going to introduce you to each other in the hopes you would take care of him, you’re wonderful and he needs someone who he doesn’t have to look after. I’ve thought you would be good for him for quite a while actually,” Diana compliments her with a smile. “Try calling bullshit on that.”

It makes her laugh, leaning over into Diana’s space as she wrapped her arms around Y/N, “well as good as I am to him, he’s even better to me.”

Holding Diana was nice, she missed her moms so much that it was a good substitute until she saw her own again.

“How did you meet?”

Y/N pulls back with a stutter, “uh, well we met online actually and he took me to dinner and we got to talking and we’ve been really good friends for a while, he uh, he’s the reason I’m getting my book published.”

“Really?” She blinks a few times the way Spencer does when he tries to absorb information.

She wasn’t dumb, she knew her son had money and he was a lot older than her and that meeting on the internet isn’t as innocent as it sounds.

“He’s my best friend.”

She smiles again, “that’s the key to a successful relationship.”

Craig was quiet the whole time, staring at his cards and drinking his water while they talked. “For what it’s worth,” he adds, “I think he’s lucky to have you, you’re a good woman.”

Y/N’s so busy looking at Craig with a smile that she doesn’t notice Spencer walk-in or the way Diana gleams at him. He walks up behind her and rests his chin on her shoulder, “Hey, pretty woman.”

She jumps slightly before laughing, he wraps his arms around her and kisses her cheek quickly, “hey mom,” he makes his way from Y/N to Diana.

Hugging her quickly before coming to sit beside Y/N again, he notices Craig too and waves, “nice to meet you as well, sir.”

She analyzes his face as he looks at Craig, worried that he’s going to go full alpha male and start a fight or something crazy like her old boyfriends would. But he smiles and he’s calm, he holds her hand and they play another few rounds of cards and it's like they’ve all been friends for years.

Visiting hours are about to come to an end when Spencer finally brings it up, “how would you feel if I moved to LA for a little while?”

She’s really confused, “are you getting a transfer at work?”

“No, Y/N has a job offer and I’d like to go with her,” he’s honest with his mom, it’s easier than with anyone else. “I’ll travel here whenever you need me, and once a week just to say hello.”

“Or I can finally go back to Vegas,” she says it like she’s been thinking about it for a while. “I miss my friends and my sister, Spencer.”

“And I’m thinking about moving there as well so my pneumonia isn’t as bad this winter,” Craig adds, sitting closer to Diana than before and taking her hand.

Spencer looks very uncomfortable and Y/N can feel it radiating off him, “my moms are also in Vegas, it would be nice for all of you to be close.”

“I think that would be nice,” Spencer agrees, “and then we can just take a short trip to Vegas once a week to visit with you.”

“That would be lovely,” Diana smiles, “even on my bad days I don’t forget who Craig is to me, I know he’s my best friend in here and I’m really glad you’re comfortable with this.”

Spencer smiles, it’s awkward for him to know everything that he knows, and by the way Craig looks at him, he knows Spencer knows.

“Please, just take care of her,” is all Spencer has to say to him. “I’ve already been to prison once.”

“Spencer,” Diana scolds him while trying not to laugh at the absurdity.

“I’m kidding,” he smiles, “I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“It’s only taken us 30 years,” she reaches out a hand for Spencers, “but we did it.”

It’s a beautiful moment that Y/N gets to witness, she holds a hand to her heart as Spencer wraps his arms around his mom. She was doing amazing, she was happy and even happier that Spencer was happy.

“We did it,” Spencer agrees, holding her close, always a mama’s boy at heart.

—

They stop at his apartment on the way home, he needed some things for the next 2 days and his suitcase for this weekend. His apartment was always so dark and cold, the green was beautiful but it was far too sad. It didn’t feel like Spencer, it didn’t have his energy or personality, it was just a few walls and a bunch of books.

She sits on his couch and touches her necklace, remembering when he gave it to her and how she thanked him. He was rummaging around in his room without her, leaving her with time to just think about sucking him off on this couch, being between his legs, the feeling of him in her mouth, knowing she already had him this morning but she still wants him again.

She gets up from her seat and walks into his bedroom, pushing him up against the wall, he’s a little startled but he smirks, “what?”

“Is there a word for ravenous for dick?” She teases.

“Horny,” he responds with a giggle, “ovulating? Frustrated, deprived, desperate... slut.”

“I like the last 2 together.”

“What else do you like?” He whispers as she leans in to brush their noses together, “we’ve never discussed your needs, you’ve always just asked about mine, but this isn’t all about me.”

“It was when you were paying me,” she rationalizes, “I’m pretty basic, I’ll try anything once.”

“But what do you like the most?”

“You,” she’s honest. “How big you are for one, the fact you can just throw me around like a rag doll if you wanted… I like your hands, and your mouth and I like how you talk, I like how sweet you are, I like how we could do the dirtiest fucking things in the whole world with each other. I like that we could do the roughest, kinkiest and most intense scenes and yet I’m completely safe with you.”

He swallows and his Adam's apple bobs right in her view, she can’t help herself from kissing his neck, licking along the pulse point before sucking a deep purple mark into his skin, “what do you like besides me?”

“Praise,” she whispers.

“Good girl.”

“Mild degradation,” she kisses his neck again and starts to unbutton his shirt. “Spanking, raw missionary and messy kisses,” every new thing comes with a kiss as her hands reach down to palm him through his slacks, “pleasing my partner, knowing you get off to me, watching, being watched, belonging to you.”

He takes her chin in his hands and makes her look up at him, “in what sense?”

“Mark me, claim me, breed me,” she whispers and his eyes darken, she swears there is a growl that leaves his throat.

“I want everyone to know I’m yours, show everyone who I belong to, let everyone know only you can please me and show them that no one is better for me than my daddy.”

“You’re evil saying all this knowing I'm not going to fuck you yet,” his voice has never been this low, his eyes are black and the grip he has on her is so tight it makes her gasp.

“You asked,” she smirks, “and if you expect me to be an obedient little submissive, you’re very wrong. "

He gulps and the mood changes very quickly.

"I’m a brat and I’m a switch, and I have more control here than you do.” She tightens her grip around his cock and he whimpers, “that’s what I thought.”

She undoes his button and takes him out, licking her palm while making eye contact with him, she then wraps her hand around him and pumps up and down his shaft. Gathering his precum that’s collected from simply listening to her, his hand on her chin had made its way into her hair and his other grips her hip tighter than ever before.

“I want to fuck all day long,” she whispers, leaning in more and brushing her bottom lip against his, “I want you to come and find me when you’re bored and just bend me over and take me, I want to just sit on your lap while to read and ride you, I want to fall asleep with you deep inside me and wake up full of your cum.”

He tosses his head back against the wall, groaning as she slows her movements. She drags her hand up, squeezing at the head as he thrusts back into her hand, all she can think about is how good it’s going to be when he’s pushing inside of her, not just in her fist.

“Does it feel good, daddy?” She teases him again, “are you thinking about my tight little pussy? Hmm?”

“Gonna cum,” he whispers.

“I don’t think that's how you ask.”

His hips sputter as he fucks her hand, “please, mommy?”

It’s so unexpectedly hot she clenches around nothing, aching for him with how horny she is, she drops to the floor, wrapping her mouth around the head, he cums within seconds. She pumps every last drop onto her tongue before standing and connecting their mouths once more, swapping his cum back into his own mouth, but he doesn’t swallow.

He simply picks her up and tosses her onto the bed, pulling her jeans and panties down and off one leg to expose her dripping pussy. He lifts her hips and spreads her open, running a finger over her clit before spitting his own cum into her.

It’s such a sight, she gasps at the feeling. It’s so hot and wet and then he’s pushing it in with two fingers and fucking them into her. Rubbing her clit at the same time, she cums by surprise, it’s so intense all she can do is grip her breasts and wrap her legs around him for support. She trembles, moaning and whining as he keeps going, curling his fingers just right to rub her g-spot and keep the sensation roaring as long as she lets him.

She lives in the feeling as long as possible before it starts to get to be too much, “okay,” she’s breathless and exhausted, lying there with her eyes closed when he pulls his fingers out of her, falling asleep from how relaxed her whole body is.

—

Spencer was in her bathroom brushing his teeth for the night while she slipped into her PJs.

She felt giddy, like a kid on Christmas Eve, thinking about how exciting tomorrow would be that the prospect of sleeping seemed almost impossible. She couldn’t wait to hold him and snuggle him and feel the way he kisses her shoulder when he rolls over. She loves him so much that sleeping beside him is almost more important to her than anything else they do together.

Because when he sleeps, his guard is down. When he sleeps beside someone, it’s because he’s truly and fully safe with them. He’s told her about all the people he’s slept with, how many of them didn’t stay the night and how many he’s walked out on. She knows he’s not a fan of sleepovers from his childhood and he’s never been in a long-term relationship to even consider sharing a bed with someone before her.

In the beginning, he didn’t want to sleep beside her because he knew he’d catch feelings, she understood and so they bought a pull-out couch for her apartment. He would sleep in her living room and she would lay awake in her bed thinking about how much better it would be if she could cuddle with him until she drifted off to sleep.

She crawls into her bed and watches the bathroom door as she rubs hand lotion into her skin, hoping he actually comes back to her like he promised and doesn’t retreat to the living room. She smiles at him when the door opens and his sight goes right to her wrists as she smoothes the lotion over her skin.

“I forgot to give you your present today,” he gasps and rushes to his suit jacket in the closet.

He comes back to bed with another box, “how much jewellery are you going to buy me?”

“Two more of the gifts are jewellery,” he smiles as he opens the box for her.

It’s a silver bracelet with diamonds and Rubys in a heart shape, like the necklace in pretty woman turned into a bracelet. It’s so pretty she doesn’t know how to react, “you’re crazy, you know that?”

He nods with a smile, “crazy for you.”

“Don’t,” she raises her brows with her pointer finger raised, shushing him. “You know what being all lovey-dovey does to me, and I'm tired.”

It makes him laugh, “I’m just going to leave this on the dresser.”

She takes it from him and stops him from getting up, “no, I’ll just leave it on here, just get into bed, please?” She moves it to her night table and pulls the sheets back so he can get into bed with her. She turns off the lamp on her night table and watches him lay back on his side of the bed.

She snuggles into his chest and places her face in the crook of his neck. Holding him as close as humanly possible, he smells like home and safety.

“I love you so much, Spencer,” she whispers it, feeling very needy and emotional and she has no idea why.

He simply kisses the top of her head while soothing his hand over her back, “I love you just as much, Y/N.”

It was rare for them to use each other's real names, so much of their time together was spent in silence but when it wasn’t, they referred to each other with a long list of different pet names. It made it less personal, it kept their real lives separate and created a world where they just existed with each other.

A world where he wasn’t Spencer Reid with 3 PH.D.s, a drug problem and a sick mother. When he was with her he was just a guy who liked to explore. He was her buddy who took her to museums and concerts, he was her daddy who held her hand when they walked to the park together to play chess, he was her sweetheart on nights when he cried and needed some love.

Tonight he’s just Spencer.

He’s everything he’s been before and nothing like his old self all at the same time. He’s constantly having a breakthrough, he’s broken through ceilings of grief and trauma, grown past the names he’s been called and adjusted to the fact this is how his life is and he's not as evil as he thinks he is.

He’s happy and content. He’s so much different now than how he was when she met him and while he likes to thank her for that, he always had the power to get here. It was a long road to recovery, he just happened upon her on the path and brought her along for the journey and now she’s never going to leave him.

“Are you crying?” He asks, bringing her back to reality to notice that yes, she is indeed crying.

She nods and sniffles, wiping her tears with his t-shirt. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired.”

“Hey,” he pets her hair and waits for her to look up at him. “What do you say when I apologize for crying?”

“Don’t apologize, your feelings are important to feel so you can move past them,” she whispers the mantra her parents raised her on, something that really helped him.

“I'm not crying because I’m hurting,” she whispers. “I’m crying because you’re not anymore.”

“What?”

She realizes it comes out weird, “I’m proud of you, and I’m happy that I get to love you now.”

“How long have you loved me?” There’s a small sadness in his voice like he wishes he could have moved faster for her.

“Since you told me you’d help me get my book published just for going to museums with you,” she whispers, “because you saw me as talented and worthy of greatness and you wanted to help me succeed instead of wanting to pay me to suck your dick in a more legal way.”

“I was in it for a friend,” he’s said it before, “it was easier to pay someone to hang out with me than stumble across someone who would understand me this well.”

“I can’t imagine you just going to a park and striking up conversations with someone,” she laughs, “I think it was just meant to happen like this.”

He sighs, “I’d do it again.”

“What?” She’s too tired and sad to follow his train of thought.

“I’d go through all the pain and trauma again, exactly the same way if it brings me right back here. Right to you.”

She pulls back from his neck and connects her lips to his faster than ever before, kissing him deeply as she cries again.

“I love you,” she whispers against his lips between kisses, he whispers it right back.

Permanent tag list:

@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @blanchardsbk @idonotexiste @measure-in-pain @dreams-in-blxck @doc-padfoot @nomajdetective @xoxospencerreid @mggswhorificlover @dinonuggets1967 @meganskane @encyclo-reid-ia @kya-li @reidsbookclub @muffin-cup @sassymoon @shirleyrose @reidsacademia @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @spooky-goob @anaagraceeberr @idonotexiste

Sugar daddy fic

@mggs-sidehoe @bakugouswh0r3 @mggskneescrews @moonlight-2-6 @spencerreidscumwhore @my-thoughts-are-weird @violetclifford @youabitchhhh @bunny-script @baby-i-am-fireproof @moondustmemories @rexorangecouny @minervaonmars @onlyhereforthefanfics @anonymous-reading @go2sleepducky @beepbooptoop @emma-is-a-nerd

@ne--yo-pets @valerieweasley @coldlilheart @andiebeaword @bingereid

some just wont tag no matter what I do, idk why tho

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Six)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 18.3k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mention of drugs, mention of threesomes, mention of erection, grinding in sleep, car sex, riding, heated make out, hickeys, light hair pulling, light spanking

Notes: Not entirely sure how I feel about this chapter to be honest but here it is regardless! I hope you guys enjoy it:) ALSO those teaser pics from today!!! Anyway feel free to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:)

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous---Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week drags on slowly and horribly, Monday you had a raging migraine that just wouldn’t go away. Tuesday you were late for your job and were scolded for it. Wednesday you spilled your black coffee all over your white blouse. And today, Thursday, you started your period. This week could not get any worse. Oh wait, yes it can—you just remembered you promised Jungkook you would attend his get together.

You hope things won’t be awkward with Nick…Jungkook has assured you that things are cool and Nick isn’t mad about what happened.

Jungkook 5:15pm

Hey :) so, I was thinking you could bring that 16% wine we always drink?

Jungkook 5:50pm

It starts at 7 but you can come earlier if you want

Jungkook 6:00pm

Or you don’t have to,..it was just a suggestion.

Y/N 6:02pm

I’ll be there at 7.

Jungkook 6:02pm

Ok cool :) I can’t wait to hang out.

You click your phone off, groaning into your pillow. Your cramps are fucking killer and you want to die. You look to your nightstand to see your water and pain killers, you reach for them and swallow them down. Hopefully this helps.

You decide to start getting ready, you settle on some jeans and your favorite striped sweater. Like, who are you trying to impress?

You hear your phone buzzing from your bed and you hurry to answer it.

“Hello?”

“I’m outside whore.”

“Kay be out in a sec.”

You hang up your phone, stuffing it in your back pocket. You gather your things and do one last look in the mirror—casual but cute.

“Holly! They’re here!”

You two rush down to the parking lot where Jimin is parked, Trina and Holly sit in the backseat while you occupy the passenger seat.

“You ready?” Jimin smirks.

~~~~~~

Before you know it, Jimin is knocking on Jungkook and Nick’s front door.

“By the way, I still can’t believe you didn’t who nick was…”

“I never come over here! Jungkook usually comes to mine…” Jimin answers in pout.

The door swings open and there stands Nick, in all his hot glory.

“Hey Nick…” you say, avoiding eye contact but Nick is chipper as can be as he nods at you and everyone else.

“Hey Jungkook! y/n is here!” he calls behind him.

“I mean, we’re here too but go off I guess.” Jimin’s mutters from beside you.

The four of you walk into the apartment, Jungkook still nowhere to be seen.

The small place is filled with maybe 5 other people, you are quick to nod at everyone in greeting. You catch Jungkook leaving his bedroom with Vanessa following closely behind him, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Jungkook finds you staring at him and he grins, walking closer to you and your friends.

“y/n!” he goes in for a quick, unexpected hug.

“Hi.”

“Jimin!” he hugs Jimin too, “and Hey Tr—”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Yup, nice to see you too Trina.” Jungkook smiles anyway, “And you must be Holly?” he extends his hand out for her to shake. She takes it while smiling awkwardly.

“I’m glad you guys came!” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, “This is uh, this is Vanessa.” He introduces the girl standing beside him.

Vanessa is pretty…really pretty actually. She has short black hair, it looks soft and sleek. She is taller than you, her height almost rivaling Jungkook’s. But she is still smaller than him.

“Hi everyone.” She says flatly.

She doesn’t look interested in meeting any of you, or interested in any of the people here. She grabs her phone from her bag and starts scrolling through it as Jimin introduces everyone.

“And this is y/n.” he finally finishes, gesturing towards you.

At this, Vanessa looks up from her phone to eye you up and down, “Right.” Is all she says, then her eyes are back on her screen.

Wow, quite the charmer. You look at Jungkook whose eyes are already on you, and he chuckles nervously.

“Well, did you bring that wine?” he asks you.

You pull it from the bag you are holding and hand it to him, “Here…” his hand goes to reach it and his fingers brush against yours and you shudder.

“Umm, I’ll pour us all a glass.” He takes the bottle, faces Vanessa and heads toward the kitchen while Vanessa follows him. You watch as they disappear into the other room and you release a breath.

“That’s the bitch he’s fucking?” Trina asks bluntly, one eyebrow raised in question. “She didn’t even look at us!”

“Let’s be nice,” Holly says.

“Fucking fine.” Trina rolls her eyes. Hard.

You can’t help but agree though, Vanessa seems…you don’t know, but why would Jungkook like her? She seems rude, and uninterested in literally everything.

“You’re never going to get over her like this, you know?” Vanessa continues to look at her screen as she speaks to Jungkook. “You’re just hurting yourself.” Her eyes dart towards her glass being poured, “I don’t even like this wine, I told you I wanted the other one.”

“It’s y/n’s favorite.” He exhales deeply as he pours more glasses.

“Oh right, so is this how it’s going to be?” Vanessa clicks her phone off and slides it in her purse, “Now that she’s back in your life everything is going to be about her?”

“No, Vanessa…” he looks up from the bottle, “We’re still…” he gestures between their bodies.

“Right.” She says, tapping her fingers against the counter, “Totally.”

“So what game shall we play?” Jungkook sits down between you and Vanessa, his body vibrating in excitement. (How you and Vanessa ended up sitting next to each other in the first place? You don’t know. But thankfully Jungkook saves the day.)

“How bout never have I ever!” Jimin winks at everyone, “It’s always a good way to get to know new people.”

“Fine.” Trina says with a smirk

“Yeah, I’m down!” Nick says, high fiving his same bro who believes in aliens.

Various ‘yes’s are heard around the room and you nod your head too.

“If you’ve done it, you drink, that’s the rule.” Jimin states “I’ll go first. Never have I ever done coke.”

A few people you aren’t well acquainted with groan and take a sip of their drinks, Jimin looks at you as he passes his turn.

“Uh,” you look up at the ceiling, “Never have I ever had a threesome.”

You notice every single one of your friends taking a drink, Jungkook included. Well, you shouldn’t be surprised. Damn, even Holly? Are you just lame?

Jungkook goes next, “Never have I ever ate ass!” Jimin raises his glass and he take a gulp.

Everyone’s laughing and having a good time, the game continues on for several rounds, everyone drinking at different times but everyone collectively getting drunker.

The turn is back on you…”Never have I ever cheated on a college exam.”

“Fucking liar!” Jungkook snickers beside you, “You copied like half my answers in bio!”

“Oh true.” You say nonchalantly, “Never mind. Jungkook your turn.”

Jungkook thinks for a few moments, “Never have I ever not made a girl come.” He smirks.

“Okay ladies man, we get it, fucking whore.” Jimin sticks his tongue out.

Next is Vanessa’s turn, she tilts her head side to side thinking on what she wants to say.

“Never have I ever had sex with my best friend.” She says, her voice smooth and silky.

You choke on your spit when you process her words, your head snaps to Jungkook’s. He’s already looking at you, debating if he should drink—especially in front of all your friends.

He watches in horror as you begin to raise the glass to your lips, your eyes never leaving his. He raises his own glass to his mouth and takes a sip as you do the same and the room goes quiet.

Jimin watches the two of you, his eyes widening in shock as he puts two and two together.

“Wait wait wait.” Trina speaks up, “Did you two…?” she looks between you two before her eyes settle on you, “When?”

“Yeah, when?” Jimin asks quietly, sounding betrayed.

“Can we not do this right now?” you plead.

Jungkook is nodding his head in agreeance, “Yeah guys….this is a bit…” he glances over at Vanessa who is quietly sipping her wine, she blinks at Jungkook a few times before taking another sip.

“So you two have fucked!” Nick says, totally oblivious. Fucking Nick.

“It was a really long time ago, it meant nothing…” you save while striking a chord in Jungkook, he clenches his jaw. “Well, it meant nothing for only some of us,” he grits out. You feel a pang in your chest. What does he mean by that?

“Okay, would if we all take a moment to relax…” Holly intervenes. She stands up, taking her glass and Trina’s glass to the kitchen.

“It’s getting late anyway.” You stand too, you look at Trina and Jimin with apologetic eyes and nod towards the door, “Let’s get going.”

“Wait y/n,” Jungkook stands up as well, grabbing on to your arm. “Can we talk for a moment?” he motions towards the balcony. “Please.”

You roll your eyes but go along with it, you follow him out the back on to the balcony. It’s a small space, forcing you to stand somewhat close to Jungkook.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that last thing…” he begins, “You were just trying to save the conversation….right?”

“Right.” You agree. You fold your arms over your chest, you want this day to be over with.

“Other than this last bit…I had a lot of fun…you know…everyone hanging out. It was nice,” Jungkook shakes his head a bit, his hair falling all over his face, covering his big doe eyes. You can’t help but reach up and tuck some wild strands away so you could see him properly.

He freezes when you do that.

“Oh sorry…habit.”

“No no its okay, I was just surprised is all.” He smiles, and you feel your heart glow.

“Vanessa seems…” you don’t know why you bring her up right now but you do.

“Nice.”

Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip, looking at you with serious eyes,

“You don’t like her.”

He chuckles lightly, “I still know when you’re lying.”

“Sorry,” you laugh into your palm, “She just doesn’t seem all that interested in anyone.”

“Including me?”

“Kind of…sorry.” You look up at him, “It’s none of my business.”

“Well, you’re my friend so I value your opinion.”

“Okay then…I just can’t seem to find what you might like about her…” Your honest nature isn’t something Jungkook isn’t use to, but he still feels defensive.

“Well, you don’t know her.”

“Do you?”

He opens his mouth to answer but falls short of a response. He stuffs his hands into his front pockets of his jeans and lets out a small groan.

“Can we go one day without fighting?” he whispers.

“Sorry.” You offer a half ass apology. “Jimin and the rest are probably waiting for me so—”

“Wait…” he grabs your wrist and pulls you closer to him, “Can I hug you? Since I have to ask now.”

“If I say no?”

“Then I will probably cry myself to sleep.”

“Well, we can’t have that can we?”

“So that’s a yes?”

You look up into Jungkook’s endearing eyes and nod your head yes, he doesn’t waste another second before he’s wrapping his arms around you and engulfing you in a sweet embrace. He smells like his laundry detergent and his natural scent, the combo making you dizzy—as usual. You finally return the hug, your own arms circling around his waist. You feel him inhale you and you can’t help but do the same…you missed this. You missed his touch—his warmth. You missed him.

“I missed you too.”

Oh, did you say that out loud?

“Yes you did.” He chuckles into your neck. his hot breath hitting your skin making you shudder.

“I missed you so much.” He whispers into your hair, his words almost getting lost in your locks.

“Then why did you replace me so quickly?” you whisper into his chest, you feel his heart beat faster than before.

“I don’t like her, Jungkook.” You admit.

“Please just give her a chance…for me, please.” He exhales into your neck before nuzzling further.

“Do you like her?” you brace yourself for the answer, you grip on to his shirt, bunching up the material in your hands.

“Yes.” He tightens his hold on you, “but, it’s complicated.”

You pull back from him, “Wait…you really do like her? Oh…” you drop your arms from his body.

“y/n…This is hard for me. She’s the only thing distracting me from…” he gulps, “Things.”

You take a step back, confused.

“Things?” you scoff, “What aren’t you telling me Jungkook?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He whispers, his hands still rest on your waist. He pulls you closer again, “I’m working on it.” He looks into your eyes and you can’t help but stare at his lips as he licks them.

“How hard are you working on it?” you wrap your hands around his middle again, stepping closer to him.

“I don’t…know…” he breathes out erratically. His eye becoming half lidded as he stares down at you, “I….dont …know….” He repeats in a daze.

Your hands travel up his back until your grabbing on to his hair, using this to tilt his head down gently.

“You’ll tell me eventually, won’t you?” you angle your head upwards, he slowly begins to lean down, his eyes shutting as he leans in closer and closer. You part your lips slightly waiting in anticipation for his lips to find yours.

“You’re so fucking unfair…” You feel Jungkook’s whisper hit your lips as he begins closing the distance.

Then the door fucking opens, you and Jungkook jumping apart at the sudden intrusion.

“y/n are you ready?” Jimin looks between you two, he eyes you suspiciously before looking at you expectantly.

“Right, yeah.” You look at Jungkook who is as red as a fucking cherry. He scratches his head with one hand and uses to the other to usher you inside. Were you and Jungkook about to…? Holy shit. What has gotten into you?

Before you go inside you turn around to face him, “Maybe we can talk about this later?”

“Uh, maybe.” Jungkook looks at the floor as you speak to him, he sways from one foot to another. “See you later y/n.”

~~~~

“Fucking spill it.” Trina spits out once you four are in the car. She aggressively puts on her seatbelt as Jimin turns on the car but refuses to drive anywhere until you talk.

“Can this wait til we’re home?” you whine, putting on your own seatbelt.

“I agree with y/n, Trina. Let’s wait…” Holly’s troubled smile begs Jimin to drive you all home back to your place.

Jimin is silent as he puts the car in reverse and begins driving. Just complete silence coming from him, which is more worrisome than him yelling at you.

The drive is mostly quiet, you can tell Trina is really forcing herself to keep it down while Holly has a death grip on her thigh. You want to laugh at their dynamic but you don’t think anyone is in the mood to laugh right now.

Once home, you drag out one of the chairs at the breakfast table and plop down, taking a seat. Your three friends follow your lead, each taking a seat at the table.

“Guys…do we really have to do this…?” you fold your hands out in front of you on top of the table.

“If it’s really that hard to talk about, no. But I would like it if we did…” Trina tries to say calmly.

You chew on your lips—your usual bad habit as you think. Do you tell them everything? About that night? Your true intentions? It’s silent for a while until Jimin quietly clears his throat.

“Neither of you told me…my best friends…” he stares down at the table top.

“When?” he whispers.

You stare at Jimin, who sits across from you and you feel your heart break just a bit. He looks and sounds so betrayed.

“Freshmen year. New Year’s Eve party.” You finally say.

Trina’s eyes expand, realization hitting her.

“Wait wait wait.” She throws her hands up, “New Year’s Eve party? The night you were going to….?”

You only nod your head yes, feeling fucking embarrassed.

“Going to what?” Jimin asks.

“Nothing!” You and Trina say at the same time.

“Really guys?” Jimin looks down at his hands, a frown taking over his face. “Is that how we’re going to be?”

You do feel bad but are you ready for Jimin to know? One look at his sad face and you guess the answer is yes.

“That night I was going to…” you begin, the memory of that night coming back to you.

Tonight is the night. It’s New Year’s Eve and you’re going to do it. Maybe it’s this glass of wine that’s giving you courage—liquid courage—but you feel like tonight is a good as any.

Jungkook promised you no girls tonight…that tonight is between two best friends with no interruptions. And you believe him, of course. In the months you have known Jungkook he has always kept his word to you.

You lean back in your rolling chair, bringing the glass of wine to your lips and you take a generous sip…yes, tonight you are going to do it. You are going to confess to Jungkook.

“What’s got you so nervous tonight?” Trina asks as she applies her dark lipstick to her thick lips. Trina and you are getting ready in your dorm for the long awaited New Year’s Eve party and she can tell something is weird about you. You keep rubbing your sweaty hands down your black skirt, you keep patting your sweaty forehead dry with one of your t shirts, you keep looking in the mirror and taking much needed deep breaths. You are obvious. So fucking obvious.

“I could be wrong but it looks like you’re worried about a dead body you’re trying to hide…” Trina’s hand stops mid lipstick application as she glances at you, “bitch, you know I will help you.”

You can’t help but laugh, easing some of the nerves.

“No, nothing like that…” you know Trina knows. She’s had her assumptions but she never lets the subject linger…she basically is a bad bitch who minds her business…unlike someone you know—Jimin. Who ALWAYS has some shit to say about you and Jungkook, he on the other hand is a messy bitch who does NOT mind his business.

“It’s about…” you struggle to complete your sentence as you gulp down more wine.

“You don’t have to say…I know. Just know that no matter what, I am on your side.” Trina goes back to applying another layer of lipstick, “Especially if you have to hide a body.”

“Sometimes I wonder about you.” You say flatly.

Trina only laughs that loud ass laugh you love so much. “You wonder about me?” she winks.

It’s your turn to apply your own lipstick to your lips, a nice soothing red when you receive a text from Jimin that he and Jungkook are on their way to the party.

“I hope Stephanie is going to be there tonight…” Trina mumbles underneath her breath, “if not, this outfit is a complete waste” You giggle as you continue to apply your lipstick. You check your phone again to see another text that they’re there,

“Shit, we gotta get going!” You drop your lipstick in your bag and a few other essentials.

Trina raises a brow at you, “Are you trying to rush me?” she looks amused. “You can’t rush perfection.” she threads her fingers through her bouncy hair, “Lucky for you, I am done! And also, always perfect.”

“Yes yes miss perfect, we get it. Let’s go!”

The party is without a doubt: booming. The amount of decorations and alcohol and people is impressive. This is surely about to be a party worth remembering—and you hope you do. You decide to only sip a few beers—wanting to stay at least a little bit sober when you confess and you hope Jungkook isn’t completely shit faced either. Speaking of, where is he? Your eyes scan the crowd, you see Jimin surrounded by a group of people, laughing his head off. You see Trina grinding on some girl…maybe Stephanie? And you see Jungkook on the other side of the living room, sipping on his drink while some girl talks to him. But his eyes are on you. You crack an awkward smile and he turns to face the girl that is trying so hard to talk to him. He says a few words to her and is quickly leaving her side, he is now walking towards you. You can’t help but feel nervous as he approaches you…tonight’s the night, you keep reminding yourself.

You never not liked Jungkook…If you weren’t so shy maybe you would have slept with him the first night you met him… but instead you became friends and that was without a doubt the best thing that could of happened for you two. But in the back of your mind you always wanted more. Something always tugged at your hands, begging you and pulling you in the direction of more with Jungkook. But he seems fine with the friendship…so much so that you thought that maybe pursuing him would be best if you pushed it to the side.

Unfortunately for you, you just couldn’t take it anymore. Your feelings so overwhelming that you got pushed the edge. You’re about to fall off the Jungkook cliff so you decide instead of falling against your will, you will control the situation—parachute and all, you are ready the fall. You’re going to confess.

“What’s with your face?” Jungkook finally stands in front of you, his hands pushed into the front pocket of his jeans.

You take a moment to take in Jungkook’s appearance…his tight jeans, his black combat boots and a white t shirt, with his coat draped over his left arm. He looks good. Really good. You crumble at the sight.

“Who’s the girl?” you catch yourself asking. It isn’t odd for you to pry into his life like this so the words don’t taste weird leaving your mouth…but, only you know you’re only asking because the tinge of jealousy you feel.

“Dunno.” He shrugs his shoulders, “I think I have a class with her.”

“Oh nice.” You also shrug, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “Shall we dance?” you nod your head towards the center of the living room where bodies shamelessly dry hump other bodies. You think you’ve seen Jimin grind on at least 10 different people tonight.

“Sure.” He smiles, his arm extends out for you to lead the way.

Somehow you went from sipping on a couple beers to taking shots with none other than your best friend. The two of you go from the living rooms dance floor to the kitchen for hours. The world becomes friendlier and a little blurrier but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You remind yourself to slow down, because you want to at least remember telling Jungkook your feelings for him and you want to remember his response. But wait—would if he rejects you? The thought lingers in your mind, so what do you do? You take another shot.

The air that surrounds the dance floor is different than the rest of the house…its hot, sweaty and downright dangerous. You and Jungkook find yourself dancing along with Trina and Jimin at some point, the 4 of you spinning around, jumping and hugging one another. Laughter filling the air, everything is perfect.

You feel Jungkook’s tatted fingers grip your waist as you dance on him, his fingers never find themselves going lower. And you wish they did.

“Guys! Guys!” You hear Jimin’s voice from a distance, but quickly growing closer.

Jimin stands next to the two of you as you guys are in your own world, the alcohol running through your veins, the music thumping loudly in your ears, Jungkook’s hands holding on to you tightly. Your bodies move together to the beat of the music, Jungkook’s head innocently falling into the crook of your neck. You innocently grinding your ass into his crotch.

All very innocent.

“Wow, just fuck already.” Jimin rolls his eyes playfully, “GUYS!”

“What?!” you and Jungkook yell back in unison, not having liked being interrupted.

An evil smirk makes its way on Jimin’s face, “Upstairs. Let’s go! Truth or dare, come on!”

Truth or dare? What are you guys, 12? You giggle into your hand, nodding your head approvingly. It should be fun. You follow Jimin’s lead up the stairs, you turn around to see Jungkook right after you. You reach for his hand, you two interlocking fingers as you stumble up the stairs trying to keep each other stable. The two of you giggle for no apparent reason as you make your way up, making Jimin roll his eyes again.

You’re about to enter the room when Jungkook stops just outside the door.

“Wait…Jimin?” Jungkook nibbles on his lips, “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

You and Jimin share a concerned look before you announce your departure.

“I’ll see you guys inside.” You smile, letting go of Jungkook’s hand.

“What’s up man?”

“Dare me to kiss y/n.” Jungkook states confidently. Jimin tilts his head in confusion then amusement.

“Why don’t you just kiss her without my help, hm?” Jimin teases, ruffling the younger ones hair. “But sure, why not?”

“Thanks, I owe you.”

“Oh you sure do.” Jimin winks, “Now come on.”

You’re sitting in a circle in the room with about 8 other people, some you’ve barely talked to, others you would consider friends. Jungkook and Jimin walk into the room and you notice Jungkook’s face is a soft pink…probably from the alcohol. Jungkook finds a spot on the floor next to you and he smiles gently in your direction, giving you the heads up that everything is okay. You just nod your head and smile back. The room is loud with chatter and laughter until Jimin stands up and clanks a wine glass with a spoon—ever the dramatic.

“Okay guys, we all know why we are here—truth or dare time!” He sits down in his spot, crossing his legs in front of him, “First, let’s start with Trina.”

“Of course.” Trina says flatly.

“Truth or dare?” Jimin smirks.

“Dare, obviously” she looks around the room, winking at several people.

“Okay,” Jimin pretends to think for a few moments, like he doesn’t already know what he’s going to say. “Dare you to flash your tits to everyone.”

“Oh? Is that all?” Trina quickly lifts her shirt up, revealing her bare breasts to the room. You and Jungkook cackle as you watch the scene unfold.

“Okay Hobi…” Trina nods towards to the bright smiling boy, “Truth or dare?”

“Dare!” he grins with all his teeth, no doubt excited “Okay, I dare you to take 3 shots in a row.”

The truths and dares continue on like this for quite a while. You being lame chose truth at first and had to admit when the last time you masturbated—which was 10 minutes before Trina arrived to your dorm. Jungkook had to spank some guys ass and Jimin had to make out with like, 3 different people. Which he wasn’t complaining. All was well…until it was Jimin’s turn again.

“Okay, Jungkook. Truth or dare?” Jimin smiles knowingly with an evil glint in his eye.

“Dare.” Jungkook says with a cocky smile.

“I dare you to kiss y/n.”

You immediately choke on your drink as you process his words. Jungkook? Kiss YOU? In front of everyone?

Everyone in the room starts whooping and hollering at the idea, but you shake your hands in front of you in denial.

“No, no. We can’t do that!” you slur, your eyes squeezing shut. This isn’t how things are supposed to happen! You need to confess first!

You miss the way Jungkook’s face falls as he looks between you and Jimin. Jimin looks at Jungkook with pity and mouths a ‘sorry’.

“Yeah, no way in hell am I kissing her.” Okay, maybe he didn’t have to sound so harsh. But he feels a bit rejected at the moment and needs to be on your same page.

“Uh, yeah.” You feel a pang in your chest. Oh. Jungkook doesn’t want to kiss you, not even as a dare.

“That’s literally the last thing I want to do!” You hear him cackle from beside you, “Someone else can do the honors!” he continues to bark loudly, laughter filling the room.

Jimin frowns, looking at Jungkook with knowing eyes as he clasps his hands together. “Fine. Kiss Amber instead.”

“That I can do.” Jungkook smirks, looking across the room to a blushing Amber.

Things are starting to feel like they are crumbling…you shouldn’t even confess anymore, right? Jungkook will clearly reject you. The thought makes you want to cry like a stupid ass baby.

“I’m gonna get something more to drink.” You say to no one in particular as you stand to your feet. Jimin watches you leave the room with sad eyes, then his eyes go to Jungkook who looks panicked.

You open the door and go to close it behind you when you feel it being pushed open again. Jungkook.

You ignore him the whole way down the stairs but he continues to silently follow you.

The party is still going hard when you make your way downstairs again, you weave through the crowd to get to the kitchen to fetch yourself another beer.

“y/n! Wait up!” you hear Jungkook call from behind you but you decide to ignore him.

You find the cooler of beers and grab yourself one, the chilling beer freezing against your fingertips. You crack it open and begin chugging it back, enjoying the carbonation that sizzled down your throat.

“Slow down Lightning McQueen.” Jungkook chuckles next to you.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you don’t mean to snap, but you do. You feel tired, just tired.

“What’s with you?” he quirks a brow, looking adorable while doing so.

“What are you doing here?” you snap again, “Shouldn’t you be like, making out with Selena or whatever her name is.”

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, his doe eyes big and bright, “Selena? Oh! You mean Amber? Nah, I saw you leaving so I came with you.” He smiles, “I told you no girls tonight. I am spending new year with you.”

You blink at him in surprise, but you shouldn’t be surprised. Jungkook always keeps his word to you.

It makes the world crumble a little more, he said no girls. And you guess that includes you. Tonight was supposed to be the night, but you got your answers. Jungkook doesn’t feel the same.

“Want to go outside?” he asks, head nodding towards the back door.

“It’s cold, Jungkook!”

“I’ll keep you warm.” He winks then transitions into a soft smile, “Promise.”

You feel your heart begin to race but you order yourself to calm down…you aren’t confessing tonight, and that’s final.

The two of you walk outside, it was pretty damn cold, your skirt and crop top barely doing enough to keep you warm.

“Here.” Jungkook is shrugging off his jacket and handing it you.

“Thanks” you shiver, slipping on the warm, fuzzy coat. “Will you be fine?” you question.

“Only if you come snuggle with me.”

“Do these lines work on most girls?”

“Usually all of them.” He smirks, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

You giggle and move closer to him, wrapping your arms around his middle. Even though it’s like 20 degrees outside, Jungkook is unbelievably warm. You have to remain normal, like your heart isn’t breaking with every word or soft touch he offers you.

Jungkook pulls his phone out to check the time, huffing when he sees there’s still a few more minutes until midnight

“So how many girls did you have to reject tonight?” You ask with a snicker. Jungkook raises a brow in question, “Like, ‘oohh Jungkook please be my new year’s kiss??’ ya know, shit like that.” You mock. It’s not like you actually want to know the answer but you can’t help but be curious.

“Oh that? No girls lining up tonight.”

“Why’s that? You shut em all down early?”

Jungkook sways back and forth, your body clinging on to his, “I think they all see me with you tonight and are laying off.”

You scoff at his words, “Right, because I have stopped them before.” You roll your eyes.

“Ha, you never know.” Jungkook takes another look at his phone, “Oh less than a minute.” He says with the shrug of his broad shoulders.

“Wanna be my kiss Jeon?” the words slip out of your mouth almost killing you in the process. You can’t believe you just asked that! You literally just decided you’re giving up so why the hell would you offer him your lips

“Just kidding, you would rather have someone else kiss me, right?” you huff, saving yourself but god, what you wouldn’t give to feel his lips on yours just one time. For him to be yours…just one time.

Jungkook chokes on his spit as he tries to swallow down your words, “W-What?”

“Nothing.”

Jungkook obviously heard you loud and clear. Did you actually want to be kissed by him, he thinks.

5

4

3

2

1

Cheers of your classmates erupt besides you and you cannot help but smile at everyone’s happiness. You see many of them sharing hugs and kisses and you feel a pang of jealousy but you are mostly feeling joy.

“It’s nice right? Every—”

You didn’t get to finish what you were saying before Jungkook’s chapped lips are on yours. His mouth is warm and inviting but you don’t make yourself at home. Instead, you stand absolutely still as Jungkook innocently moves his lips over yours. Before you can really react, Jungkook is pulling away: absolutely horrified.

“y/n…I shouldn’t have done that…I’m sorry,” Jungkook is quick to stutter out.

You are frozen. You wish you could blame something…anything, wish you could blame the flurries that floated down to the earths ground, wish you could blame the below freezing weather and your short mini skirt, wish you could blame anything for why you are standing absolutely frozen.

You wish you could move, but the universe just won’t allow it.

“Oh my god, y/n…I really am sorry…fuck…” Jungkook’s wide eyes are focused on his feet as he threads his fingers through his thick, black hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Please forget about th—”

And your lips are back on his again. Jungkook’s lips may be a bit chapped but they are as soft and fluffy as you have once imagined. With your lips back on his, you take charge. You quickly move them over his, he hums in satisfaction. Your fingers find themselves in his dark locks, pushing up into his soft hair as his hand moves to cup your jaw.

You gasp when you feel his teeth nibble at your bottom lip, and moan into his mouth when you feel him jerk his hips into yours.

“Let’s go to your place.” You heavily breathe out, your fingers dragging down the side of his face.

Jungkook disconnects himself from you, stepping back a good foot, inspecting your face,

“You sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure.”

Because he may not feel the same, and he may not be yours but maybe just for one night he can be.

“Wait, you were…” Jimin’s eyebrows rise to the top of his forehead, “you were going to confess to Jungkook…?”

“Yeah…I know this might be shocking to hear—”

Jimin bursts out into laughter, his hand goes over to cover his mouth as he mutters out apologies.

“Shocking?! You think this is shocking to hear?!” he continues to chuckle, “But wow…on New Year’s eve…oh my god…” Realization hits Jimin. “Oh my god…you both are so unbelievably stupid. Oh my god.”

You share a look of confusion with Trina and Holly as Jimin continues to connects dots in his head.

“Please promise me one of these days you will actually sit down with Jungkook and have an honest conversation with him…because this is just cruel and hilarious to listen to. Your timing…wow. So fucking stupid, you idiots.”

“Okay, you don’t have to be so harsh Jimin.” Holly says sweetly, her awkward smile easing everyone.

“What do you mean?” you finally ask.

“Do you still like him…even now? I mean, I know the answer honestly but go ahead.” Jimin gestures his hand for you to answer him.

“I…”

“She doesn’t need to answer that.” Trina cuts in, “No matter what, we’re on her side. Right?”

“Oh honey,” Jimin tilts his head towards Trina, “There are no sides for me. They’re both my friends and they’re both idiots.”

You can’t help but laugh at Jimin’s words. Because he knows better than anyone how true that is, so you’ll believe him.

“But really y/n…if you didn’t tell me or Trina…did you tell anyone?”

You begin chewing on your lips again,

“I don’t even talk about it with Jungkook.”

“Why?” Holly decides to pry.

“We…after we slept together…I could tell Jungkook was freaking out. He kind of tried brushing off the whole situation and I…I just had sex with the guy I had feelings for. So I put a little bit of space between us—”

“Wait, this is when you guys weren’t really hanging out for a couple months?!”

��It was only a month.” You deadpan. “But yeah…”

“I was wondering what the fuck was going on…Jungkook wouldn’t tell me anything.”

Guilt begins making a new home with you as you sit here. You wonder if you made a poor choice back then.

“Then we agreed to never talk about it to save our friendship.” You finish.

Jimin gives you a blank stare, his eyes probably going dry from lack of blinking.

“To…save your…y/n please, I am literally begging you. Talk to him. Fucking tell him the truth…” Jimin begs, he finally screws his eyes shut and shakes his head, “I can’t help you any more than that.”

~~~~~~

It’s Monday morning and you woke up with a raging headache and a snotty nose. You better not be getting sick, you think to yourself. You have a full shift ahead of you!

You slowly put on your work uniform and apply some light makeup for the day. Did you always lack color in your face or are you actually getting sick? Fuckity fuck, you think.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Jade asks from beside you, you notice she dyed her hair black instead of the light brown she was previously sporting.

“Nice hair.” You go to compliment.

“Nice try but don’t change the subject.” She pats you on the back, “Me and the guys can take care of customers, you just bake, okay?”

“Kay.”

“You know who is so beautiful even when she’s sick?” Adam butts in, “Hazel.” He answers for you both with a dopey smile.

“Now’s not the time, loser.” Jade bobs her head around, “Where’s Lenny?”

“Probably eating fucking cookies.” You say with a grin.

“Wow, guys. I’ve been here the whole time and I am not eating cookies.” Lenny says from behind Jade. “But speaking of, don’t throw away the rejects I am taking them home.”

“Quick everyone,” Jade says flatly, “act surprised.”

The sound of the bell going off catches your attention, you notice a head full of sandy hair and you groan. It’s him. You feel like all the energy is being drained from your body, now is not the time for Mister Oatmeal Raisin.

“I’ll take care of him, don’t worry!” Lenny gives you a wide smile but you raise your hand up to stop him.

“It’s okay, he’s my usual. He’s going to ask for me anyway.”

You make it the front of the store to the register and give Mister Oatmeal Raisin a weak smile.

“Are we going to be a brat today?” he greets you warmly. You scoff and try smiling again but fall a bit short.

“Hey everything okay, y/n?”

“I’m fine Mister Oatmeal Raisin.”

“You don’t look…” he lets the words die on his tongue, not wanting to actually offend you.

“The usual?” you ask, already pushing the buttons on the screen for his order.

“Yeah.” He gives you a small smile and you smile back. You aren’t use to being so nice with him, usually you two have a lot more fun, shit, you really must not be feeling well.

You must turn around too quickly because you become very dizzy, your body wobbling and shaking from the sudden chill you feel. You hurry to lean against the counter, your hand going up to feel your throbbing forehead.

“Hey you good?” Mister Oatmeal Raisin peeks over.

“Fine, I—” you try to take a few steps but wobble too much that you almost fall. The world turning dark as your vision goes blurry but before you can hit the ground you feel yourself fall into two arms.

“Woah woah, y/n? y/n?” you hear your name from a distance, but the world is so dark and so cold that you can hardly focus on it.

“I got you.” You hear the same voice again.

You slowly open your eyes to see your most faithful customers face mere inches from your own as he holds your body up.

“You okay?”

You steady yourself and slowly get out of his hold and nod your head.

“Yeah, thanks Mister Oatmeal Raisin.” You weakly smile, saluting towards him.

“Min Yoongi.”

You can’t help but blush at your situation,

“Yoo…Yoongi.” You repeat back, your face returning some of its color. Mostly just shades of red.

“Yeah.” He smiles a real smile, you notice how cute and gummy it is and it makes you feel nice. Min Yoongi, huh?

~~~~~

It’s a lazy Tuesday afternoon, the sun creating a blanket of warmth outside while being accompanied by a fresh breeze. You want to enjoy the day…you really do but…

“Just let me die a miserable death.” You sniffle into your sleeve. It’s the 2nd day of the flu and you are well, like you said, miserable.

“You need to take the rest of your meds babe,” Jimin’s hand is full of various pills, he tries handing them to you but you deny him.

“No, I’m gonna overdose.”

“You’re not gonna fucking overdose you dramatic ass bitch.” Jimin rolls his eyes, setting the medicine down on your nightstand next to a full glass of water.

“Listen, I have to go to work but maybe call Trina to come take care of you? I know Holly is at school for the day—”

“Trina is home visiting her parents…” you sound disgusting as you speak, your voice all gross and nasaly.

“Oh. Maybe you could call—”

“No. Anyone but him,” you cut in, waving your hands in front of your face.

Anyone but Jungkook, you don’t need him to take care of you…you guys are hardly starting to become friends again and its only in group settings. So him taking care of you one on one sounds…intimate.

“No offense babe, but you literally don’t have any other friends.”

“I can take care of my—” you’re cut off by a string of sneezes, one after the fucking other. “Fuck, I am dying.” You shiver.

Jimin places his hand over your forehead, getting a feel for your temperature.

“Shit…I’m going to call him.”

“Noooo Jimin….” You lay back on your bed, your head beginning it’s pounding again. “Don’t need him…” you lazily grab the NyQuil bottle from your nightstand, “Only need this.” You smile while taking a few gulps.

“Jesus, what is wrong with you?”

Jimin takes out his phone and taps away on his screen, you assume he is sending a million texts to Jungkook begging him to come babysit you, that or he is texting Trina what a stubborn, whiny bitch you are to which she probably just replies with “True.”

“Wanna watch Howl’s Moving Castle.” You slur in your drowsy state, all the meds and NyQuil kicking in.

“Jungkook will be here in 30. Have him put it on for you when he gets here…I really gotta go…”

“Jungkook?” you try to open your eyes as you speak but they threaten to close every few seconds.

“Yeah. He will take care of you y/n.”

You wrap yourself further into your duvet, but the shivers don’t let up. You’re shaking from how freaking cold you are. Yet you are sweating like the disgusting human being you are.

Jimin eyes you over once more, his eyes full of pity as he closes your bedroom door and whispers a ‘see you later’ under his breath.

“y/n?” You hear his voice in the distance, like he’s a mile from you at least. His voice is fuzzy and far away. And you want it closer.

“y/n???” your body is being shaken awake, gently though. Like, he doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Hey…you need to take your medicine…” you begin to slowly open your eyes, the world is blurry and the sound of his angelic voice echoes. Jungkook.

“No…” you manage to breathe out.

“y/n you know I will force these pills down your throat.”

“mmmmm, leave me alone.” You lazily turn your body over to face the window. Your body shivering as you nuzzle further into the duvet.

“Not happening,” He walks to the other side of the bed and sits on the edge, just staring down at you. “Please take your meds, for me?”

“Mm mm”” you shake your head, your hair sticking to your forehead as more sweat builds up.

Jungkook looks at you with a soft smile, his hand reaching out to feel your forehead. His eyes widen as he feels how much you are burning up.

“Fuck…you’re hot.”

You crack open your eyes to look at Jungkook, “Thanks, you’re hot too.” You wink. Like a fucking sleaze. Your drowsy state feeling intoxicating as you lay here in your bed.

Jungkook chuckles to himself before turning serious again, “If you take some fever reducer I will do whatever you want today.”

You let his words marinate as you lay here, lifeless. “Anything?” you say, peering up at him.

His soft smile grows as his fingers find their way in your messy, sweaty hair.

“Anything.”

“Go buy me chicken noodle soup.” You whisper. “The kind you use to always buy me.”

Jungkook’s brows climb up his forehead as he looks at you amused.

“You think I came empty handed? Like, I didn’t already bring it?” he smirks, standing to his feet. “I’ll go warm it up, and you promise you will take your meds?”

“Pinky promise.” You weakly lift up your hand to bring your pinky to his and he gladly accepts it.

Of course Jungkook brought the soup. He’s Jungkook and you’re y/n. He is always taking care of you and you want to melt. Well, with how high this fever is you actually might.

“Hey Jungkook?” you struggle to turn over to face the bedroom door, “Thanks for coming.” Your dopey smile doing things to his heart. He looks at you with a soft, almost sad smile before he’s making his way to the kitchen.

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit how fast he rushed here to your place, but it was fucking fast. All Jimin sent was a simple “y/n’s sick.” text and he was already calling the deli where he got the soup from, placing a quick order for 2 and gathering his stuff to make his way over.

He is used to being in charge of you when you’re sick because you are stubborn as hell and he actually has the patience. But he has barely talked to you since the night of the get together, aka the night he became weak and almost kissed you—and if it weren’t for Jimin, he is sure he would have.

Jungkook stands at the stove as he heats up a portion of the chicken soup, he stares off into space as the surface begins to bubble. He exhales deeply, taking the pot off the stove and pouring the contents into a bowl for you. The soup is hot, but you probably need the heat to help ease the congestion.

Jungkook walks back into your room, the bowl in his hands with a towel wrapped around it. You wish you could smell the soup but you’re so blocked up that you don’t even notice it.

“Here, try to sit up.” He sets the bowl down on your nightstand. He goes to help you sit up from your spot in bed, his strong arms pulling you up and you gasp when you’re finally upright. Fuck. You become so lightheaded and dizzy that you hold on to his forearm for support and he lets you. He gives you a moment to adjust to your new position before he’s reaching for the soup.

“It’s hot, so be careful.” He warns softly.

He waits for you to grab the bowl but you just continue to stare at him with tired eyes.

“Wow, do I have to do everything?” he jokes, “Even feed you?”

You nod your head slowly in approval, “Yes, feed me.”

“Such a brat. You’re definitely taking all your meds after this, okay?”

“Sure.”

Jungkook sets the bowl on the edge of the bed, holding it with one hand carefully and his other hand scoops up the broth with a spoon. He brings the spoon to your mouth and nudges it between your lips.

“Open.” He demands.

Your half lidded eyes stare up at his large ones, your chest slightly heaving from trying to breathe. You never break contact as you part your lips for him, letting him pour the spoons contents down your throat.

“Good girl.” He whispers, setting the spoon back down in the bowl. “Taste good?”

You swallow the liquid and open your mouth to speak ,”Can’t taste anything…” you murmur.

Jungkook smiles down at you, “That’s a shame because,” he takes a mouthful of soup in his mouth, “It’s fucking delicious.”

“Hey! You’ll get sick!”

“I never get sick from you, remember?”

You lay your head back on your headboard, closing your eyes as the NyQuil begins to make its second attempt with you.

“So sleepy but so cold.”

“You need to eat more baby.” Jungkook gathers vegetables and a piece of chicken this time in the spoon, he brings the spoon to your lips and you open wide for him, eating what he feeds you gratefully.

This goes on for several minutes until you can’t stomach anymore food, you slide back down into your sheets, feeling miserable all over again.

“Hey, time for yours meds.” Jungkook says sternly, he shakes the pill bottle to remind you of your deal.

“Fine,” you reply weakly, you try to sit back up enough to swallow down some pills and water.

Once you gulp it down, Jungkook stares at you with a satisfied smile.

“Cold?” he asks.

“Freezing.”

You feel the bed dip beside you and before you can react you feel two strong, warm arms engulf you in a hug.

“Jungkook, what are you doing?” you slur into his chest, sleep trying its hardest to take you away.

“Just rest, y/n.” he hugs you tighter. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Jungkook feels his heart crack when you doubt his promises now, he feels himself sink into depression as he recalls what he did to you.

The past 3 months have been crazy and weird without you. He’s missed you every day. The first few weeks he spent it in isolation. He felt like he was lost and lonely and like he didn’t deserve anyone’s love or affection. Then he decided in order for him to move on he needs to put some serious distance between the two of you…hence, why he moved out.

He knows it was sudden and fucked up but he had to…Or else he would be stuck in his lonely unrequited love forever.

Your last night with him before he disappeared he even got his hopes up…that maybe you could feel the same, but he had to be realistic. You were in such a weird state, you just needed comfort. And he hates that he was second choice.

He thought on this for a couple months, his mind overflowing with thoughts and cruel ideas. He was beginning to spiral until he met…Vanessa.

Vanessa was just looking to get laid, just like him. They met through tinder, hooking up after matching the first night. But the sex was so good they both agreed to do it again.

One night, they got so shit faced they both ended up venting about the one who makes life better yet harder. For her, it was her ex of 4 years and for him, it was you.

They confided in one another, feeling free telling someone their deepest romantic desires and they just clicked. Forming a solid friendship while also fucking.

Jungkook is grateful for Vanessa because for the first time in 3 years he connected with someone who isn’t you. Vanessa is a smart, sexy girl. And Jungkook isn’t blind to see that, so they made a deal. They would use each other to get over the ones they really love. And he thinks it could of almost worked until he saw you at that party. You were wearing the same black mini skirt that he fucked you in for the first (and only) time. You looked better than he’s ever seen you.

Somehow this made Jungkook feel even more depressed. So you are better off without him, he thinks.

Jungkook is lost in his thoughts when he feels you stir…you briefly open your eyes and tilt your head to look up at him, you blink lazily with a dopey smile.

“love you.” You yawn out, closing your eyes once again, drifting back off into dream world.

Jungkook’s heart stops. Your words ringing in his ears as he tries to stay calm.

He knows you mean it platonically but he still can’t help what it does to his weak heart. He is crazy for you, even with everything that’s happened he still loves you. You and you only. It’s always you.

Jungkook plays with your hair and chuckles lightly as he hears you struggling to breathe properly due to your nose being plugged up. How can he continue to see Vanessa when he has you? Jungkook’s smile drops all together when he realizes that would put him back at square 1.

It’s almost midnight when you wake, your body feels stiff from how much shivering you endured. You try to get up when you realize Jungkook’s body is wrapped strongly around your own, his light snores filling up the room.

You look at him carefully, his hair falling into his eyes as he moans lightly every time he moves around slightly. He’s so cute, you think. You’ve always thought Jungkook was cute but right now there’s something so endearing about him it makes you want to peck his lips softly.

Wait, what? You want to what? That’s not allowed!

The next morning comes quickly, you lay awake in Jungkook’s arms wondering if it’s okay to stay like this all day. You admittingly feel much better compared to yesterday, breathing is much easier and your head isn’t throbbing. You feel a fondness swell in your chest as you stare at Jungkook’s soft, sleeping face and it makes you feel weird all of the sudden.

You’ve always felt this way about Jungkook, right? Wait, what way? What are you saying? Or at least, trying to say? You know though, you know what you are trying to say…it’s the same thing you’ve been trying to say since freshmen year. But saying it out loud is just different.

Confusion on how to feel clouds your mind as you stare at him, his breaths are light and airy and you feel so warm and safe in his embrace. He slightly shifts, his hips bumping into yours, lightly grinding into you. Your eyes widen as you feel his hard member bumping into your thigh and it’s not like you haven’t felt it before while the two of you slept but still, it surprises you each time.

Feeling his length twitching on your thigh is creating trouble for you, you hate that such a small act is getting you all hot. You try to scoot away but he only pulls you closer on instinct. He brings you so close that his warm breath fans over your right cheek and you want to force yourself to sleep more so you aren’t hyper aware of his dick.

“Jungkook…” you mumble, trying to free yourself from his grasp but you fail miserably.

His arms are circled around your hips and he digs his fingers into your exposed flesh from how your shirt is riding up.

“Baby…” he groans out, his hips grinding into your thigh again. His eyes are screwed shut, like he is still stuck in his dreams.

You lay here frozen, he’s called you baby a million times but this is different. He’s only ever called you baby in that tone when you two…you slam your eyes shut, trying to rid yourself of the memories.

“Jungkook, time to wake up.” You wiggle in his arms but your thigh only rubs on his dick more. He releases quiet whimpers against your ear, his lips parting in pleasure.

“Mmm…” he pants out, his hips thrusts against your thigh again.

Jungkook…dreaming?

Was it bad luck to interrupt someone’s dream? Or is this just an excuse to have him rutting against you?

“Jungkook…” your voice comes out shaky as you turn your body to face him, he groans in his sleep once more.

You’re afraid he’s going to say it. Her name. Vanessa. That’s the last thing you would want to hear…it would probably ruin your whole day so you need to wake him up.

“Jungkook….” You sound more breathy than intended. You need him to wake up so you can stop thinking about his length rubbing up on you. You flush as you feel your panties start to dampen, this cannot be happening. Why did Jungkook have to have this sort of reaction out of you?

“Mmm…” Jungkook whines quietly as he ruts himself harder onto you. His cock up against your lower belly, you start to imagine him without his black sweats on, you start to imagine him without his shirt. You hesitate to reach your hand against his hard chest, you breathe out heavily as you begin to drag your fingers down until you reach just the top of his waistband. Your eyes follow your fingers until you spot his hard erection through his sweats and you breathe erratically.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook’s husky voice interrupts your horny daze. Your eyes expand in size as you realize your position. Your eyes trail up his chest until you meet his gaze, his pupils blown out.

“Where do your hands think they’re going?”

“No—nowhere.” You stare up at him, gulping. You can’t do this with him, you are finally getting your friendship back but what is with all this tension?

Jungkook releases his hold on you, moving to his back. His arms fold underneath his head as he stares up at the ceiling.

“What were you—were you dreaming about?” your hand innocently finds its way back on his chest, resting over his beating heart.

“Uh…” Jungkook turns 3 shades of red, “I don’t remember.” His blush deepens.

“I feel like you’re lying.”

“Why would I ever lie to you?” Jungkook chuckles.

Your eyes trail down his body and you see his length still struggling with a probably painful erection.

“You have a problem?” you gesture towards his crotch.

Jungkook exhales a heavy breath, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Jesus Christ, y/n.”

“what?” you feign innocence.

“Do you really have to point out everything?”

“Only things that are super obvious.”

“Fuck.”

“You can go take care of it in the bathroom?” you kindly offer, causing him to scoff.

“I’m good.”

“I guess Vanessa usually takes care of these things, huh?”

“Seriously?”

Jungkook groans out, frustration written all over his face. He hates the mention of Vanessa especially when he was just dreaming about you. He feels wrong. They aren’t officially in a relationship but somehow it feels like cheating.

“Can we not talk about her?” Jungkook doesn’t want to be reminded of the shitty situations he’s in.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Are you feeling better?” he asks softly, he moves his body to lay on his side to face you.

“Much.” You smile, “Thanks again.”

“Ready for some more chicken soup?”

A few hours pass, you figured Jungkook would have left by now but he sits on your couch next to you while the two of you watch some new anime. He laughs every now and then at the ridiculous characters and you feel warm inside. It almost feels like how things were before, when he still lived with you.

“Yeah, it does.” He says, still facing the screen.

“Huh?”

“You said it feels like we still live together.” He points out.

Shit, you said that out loud.

Jungkook bows his head, “I am…sorry that I moved out.”

“Move back in.”

“You know I can’t do that…plus, you have Holly now.” Jungkook sits back against the sofa, “Can’t just kick her out.” He snickers.

“Just move in my room with me.” You say half joking. But also, you know, half serious.

“Ha ha y/n.”

“What? You don’t like sleeping with me?” you tease. “Speaking of…you can stay as long as you want…”

“I…I have plans tonight, actually.” Jungkook stiffens in his spot. He pulls his phone out from his pocket, “actually, I should get going soon.” He regrets saying.

“Oh, okay.”

~~~~~

It’s almost 7pm and Jungkook looks himself over in the mirror. He’s got tight, ripped jeans and a dark blue shirt tucked in, his hair is wavy against his forehead. He knows he looks good but he can’t find himself to be happy about it.

He has a date with Vanessa tonight…

Vanessa 7:04pm

Hey babe, I’m ready when you are<3

Jungkook 7:05pm

Okay, I am on my way :)

The ride over to Vanessa’s place takes about 20 minutes, he uses this time to listen to the radio and think. He asked Vanessa earlier this week on a date for both of their days off.

When he arrives to her apartment, he sends her a text that he’s here.

Vanessa walks out wearing a cute, yellow sundress. Her hair freshly trimmed and sporting bangs.

“Hi handsome.” She says as she steps inside Jungkook’s car. She leans over to place a kiss on Jungkook’s lips and as she begins to pull away he pulls her back in, his lips chasing hers for a more heated kiss.

“Hi.” He finally says, out of breath.

“What was that for?” she smirks, her skinny fingers digging into her purse to pull out her phone.

“Let me guess,” she begins scrolling through it mindlessly, “You’re desperate to get y/n out of your head?” She stops scrolling to glance his way, “Need me?”

“It’s not like that…” Jungkook groans.

“Oh? Isn’t it though?” her coy smile spreads across her face. “But you need me to forget, right?” she tilts her head to the side, “That’s what we’re here for, Jungkook. We use each other.”

Jungkook drags a hand down his face, “But we are trying aren’t we? To make this work?” he sounds and looks tired, that Vanessa almost feels bad.

“We can make it work later, right now you need me.” She crawls on to Jungkook’s lap, she hikes up her dress around her waist and swivels her hips over his crotch, “Don’t you?”

“Vanessa…” he chokes out. Men are so weak, she thinks.

Her hands go to unbutton his jeans and pull out his half hard cock, she gently strokes it over and over until he is fully hard in her hand.

“Fuck,” he exhales deeply, the feeling of her tiny cold hand doing incredible things to his dick.

Vanessa slides her panties to the side and rubs his dick against her wet folds, covering his dick with her juices until she lines it up with her entrance. She releases a smooth breath as she begins to sink down on his hard cock, Jungkook gasps out of the warm feeling her tight cunt provides.

“You need me, don’t you?” her voice is smooth as silk. “But you won’t ever love me.” Vanessa rises from his cock and slams back down, repeating the motion over and over until Jungkook is panting out sweet words that mean nothing.

“You wish it was her, don’t you?” her sinister smile growing on her face, “Wish this perfect pussy was y/n’s.”

At the mention of you, Jungkook loses all composure while his dick throbs, begging for release.

“Fuck...” he whines out, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure, “y/n.”

“That’s right….” Vanessa’s wicked grin takes up her whole face now, “Fuck me like I am her.”

Jungkook shamelessly moans out your name over and over, his hips meeting hers in desperate thrusts. His eyes remain closed as he fucks into Vanessa’s cunt, only wishing and imagining it was you.

“Fuuuuck” he groans out, his fingers finding Vanessa’s clit and he rubs tight, focused circles.

Vanessa whines out, loving the feeling of his cock, his fingers and the mention of your name. it was all fucked up and nothing turned her on more.

She quickly comes undone as Jungkook continues to thrust from below, his precision becoming sloppy.

“y/n…” he grunts out with one final thrust as he comes inside Vanessa.

He keeps his eyes shut as he comes down from his high, the feeling insane.

Vanessa smirks down at him, slipping his softening cock out of her. She crawls back over to the passenger side of the car and buckles her seatbelt.

“Ready for our date.” She smiles, she digs through her purse to fetch her phone and it tapping away on it.

“Fuck…” Jungkook finally opens his eyes, realizing what the fuck he’s just done. “Vanessa…”

“It’s okay.” She says nonchalantly. “I was into it.”

“How?”

“Because I think of him every time you’ve made me come.” She peeks over her phone, her eyes shining. “So we’re even.”

~~~~~

“She lives!” You hear Adam sing as you walk into the bakery.

You look and feel much better! Totally revived from the fucking dead. You smile at your coworker and do a twirl and a curtsey just for show.

“I live!” you copy while smiling as you continue to do a few more curtseys.

Jade and Lenny walk out from the back and applaud you, you laugh at their action.

“Your oatmeal raisin guy has been in every day since you’ve been out to see if you’re okay.” Lenny brings up with a knowing smile, “Or should I call him your hero? Your savior?” he grins, stuffing his face with a sugar cookie.

“Oh shush, let’s just call him…” you begin to blush, “Yoongi.”

“Yoongi, huh?” Jade playfully elbows Adam’s side, “We’re calling him ‘Yoongi’ now!” she and Adam laugh, their teasing going straight to your head.

Yoongi is your usual customer—yes. But he’s also your…what did Lenny say? Your hero? Your savior? You cringe just thinking about it! But you cannot help but grin.

The work day goes on, you have your usual easy customers, your usual stubborn customers but no sign of Yoongi yet. He usually comes on what you are assuming is his lunch break, he must work nearby but it’s already almost closing time and he hasn’t made an appearance…not that you were looking forward to it or anything…it’s just you want to say thank you, you know, for catching you when you almost fucking fainted. A simple thank you!

You’re chillin in the back, swiping through your phone when the bell goes off at the front. Jade is the first to head towards the counter when after a moment or two she’s calling out your name. He must be here, you think. You smooth out your apron and look at your reflection from your phone screen—wait, why does it even matter? You begin walking towards the front to see Yoongi standing there with a worried expression on his face but once he sees you he smiles softly.

“You’re here.” He says.

You raise a hand, “Yup, I’m here.” You laugh, “Listen, I wanted to—”

“Are you feeling better?” he looks between you and Jade and she nods her head and walks back to the back.

“Much.”

Yoongi sighs in relief, then smirks at you.

“Then I’ll have my usual.”

You stare at him before your smile is growing on your face, you can’t believe the nerve of this guy. You like it though, you have to admit.

“Sure…Yoongi.”

Yoongi looks pleasantly surprised as he nods his head in satisfaction. You walk to the back and get him his two cookies, you bring them to him as he takes the bag from you, you put it in his order on the screen.

“Also…” you say, looking up from the screen “I really want to say thanks.”

“For?” Yoongi stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“For helping me that day…I wanted to like, uh…”

“Wanted to like, uh…what?”

“I was wondering if I could treat you to like an ice cream or something…” you sway side to side, feeling a bit awkward.

“Are you asking me out?” Yoongi blurts out and you feel flustered as fuck, all the heat rushing to your cheeks.

“W-What? N-No—”

“Because if you are,” Yoongi takes one hand out of his pocket with his phone in his grasp, “Then I would say yes.” He slides his phone over the counter. “Number.”

You must be red as a cherry, or a tomato, or like a fire truck or whatever the fuck else is super red. You look at him and gasp, your hand coming to your mouth and you can’t help but lightly chuckle.

“Fine, I’ll give you my number…but this is just a thank you outing.” You wink, taking the phone and putting your number in.

“Sure, whatever you want to tell yourself darling.” Yoongi takes his phone from you and puts it back into his jacket pocket.

“I’m free this weekend.” He sways back and forth on his heels and he laughs a bit before saying ‘Ah’ and taking out $4 and hands it to you.

“For the cookies.”

“You’re not going to inspect them?” you put the money in the register.

“I’m deciding to trust you today.”

You smile again, a real smile. Yoongi smiles back and he’s about to say something when the chime of the bell goes off and a woman and her kids make their way inside the store.

“I’ll text you.” He says before he’s turning around and heading out the door.

~~~~~

“A DATE?!” Trina and Holly yell in unison. You just told them about ice cream with Yoongi and their excitement is very evident.

“It’s not a date guys. God, how many times do I have to tell you?” you whine into the cookie you’re eating.

“It’s a thank you outing!”

“Thank you outing my ass.” Jimin frowns, “Why are you going on a date? What about Jungkook?”

You scoff, “What about him? We’re just friends, Jimin.” You defend.

“If you just come clean about every—”

“No. What good would that do?” you bite on your bottom lip, “So I can feel the lovely pain of getting rejected? He literally has a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, don’t even get me started on that shit.” Jimin complains, he takes one of the cookies from the box on the middle of the table and starts nibbling on the treat.

“But who even is this Min Yoongi guy? Is he cute?”

“Super…” you admit through a soft breath.

What? He is. He may have started out as your annoying customer but you kind of always thought he was cute.

“It’s just ice cream, you know?”

“Is it just ice cream though?” Holly intervenes, stuffing her own face with a cookie, totally ignoring the new fad diet she’s on.

“Yeah, this sounds like a good opportunity y/n.” Trina grins.

“A good opportunity?”

Jimin looks at Trina incredulously, “A good opportunity? Really Trina? Just say you hate Jungkook and move on.”

“Okay, I hate Jungkook.” She states without a problem and you frown…you don’t want her to hate him. Yeah, he hurt you but he’s…he’s not a bad guy.

“Stop guys…” you finally say, putting your half eaten cookie down. You…this isn’t a date! This isn’t a date! This isn’t a date! But…would if it is?

“Aren’t you ready to move on y/n?” Trina looks at you seriously, her hard expression almost scaring you.

“I—”

“She doesn’t have to answer that,” Jimin cuts in, “Because whatever she decides we’re on her side…right, Trina?” Jimin gives Trina a cold stare, a bite in his voice.

“Okay guys, yes let’s all just support y/n…” Holly tries saving the tension in the room.

You…tried this before already. You tried using someone to distract yourself from Jungkook, you don’t plan on using innocent Yoongi to do that again.

“It’s just a thank you outing…” you mumble, the words hard to understand by your friends. “Just saying thank you…” you bow your head, feeling sad all of the sudden.

This won’t be a repeat, will it? Taehyung number 2? You don’t think Yoongi has any ulterior motives, no not that. But do you?

“Yeah. It’s not a date.”

Jimin clasps his hands together, “Then it’s settled! Let’s change the subject.” He looks between you and Trina and Holly.

“Agreed.” Trina and Holly say at the same time, you only nod your head.

~~~~

It’s a nice Saturday evening, the breeze blows through you just right making you feel so alive. The sun is setting, giving the sky a gorgeous orange glow and you fall in love with the sight.

“How many more pictures are you going to take of the sky?” Yoongi chuckles, he walks close beside you making sure you don’t run into to like, any poles as you distractedly take photos of the beautiful sky.

“One more, one more!” you snap one last photo on your phone and slide it in your back pocket, “I have a collection of sky pictures!” you say with pride.

“I believe you.” He takes out his own phone and captures a picture of the sky too. “So we can look at the same sky.” He mumbles somewhat timidly.

You tilt your head and smile at him. You two met outside the bakery this evening so you could walk to the ice cream shop just a block away, he walks on the side next to the street while you occupy the spot walking next to all the shops.

“You know I work right around here but never been to this ice cream place you mention before.”

“Really? Where do you work?”

“The record store.”

“Ah, really? I’ve never been in.” you slow down to admire the plants outside the floral shop.

“You should come by, I think the owner would be cool with it.” He smirks.

You observe his sly smile and you wonder…

“If you say some shit like ‘It’s because I’m the owner’….” You begin, you see his sly smile grow even wider. “Oh my god, you are!”

Yoongi laughs out loud, nodding his head.

“It’s a pretty small store, but all mine.” He smiles fondly thinking over his store. “I’m serious, come check it out sometime. I mean, you like music right?”

“Am I a human being? Of course I like music!”

You both laugh while approaching the shop. Once inside, you notice how busy it is and you become afraid you two won’t find a spot to sit.

“Here, tell me what you want and I’ll go order while you find us a spot to sit, hm?” Yoongi offers, as if reading your mind.

“Oh. Okay, yeah. Sounds good.”

After circling the place for several minutes you notice a couple that was sitting at a table by the window leave so you rush to occupy the spot. You grab a napkin and wipe down the table before sitting down, you pull out your phone and scroll through social media while waiting for Yoongi to come with your ice creams.

After waiting for quite some time, Yoongi finally shows up with two ice cream cones of different flavors.

“Here.” He gives you a small smile while handing you your cone as he takes a seat across from you.

“Long line.” He gestures towards the line and smiles again.

You really like his smile, he looks genuinely happy when he does.

“You know, you kind of intimidated me at first…” you admit softly, your own smiling joining the club.

“But you seem quite soft.” You laugh, licking your ice cream.

“I get that a lot…” Yoongi groans, he looks down at the table before looking back up at you,

“I’m just kind of shy at first.”

“Shy my ass!” you lick more of your treat, “You weren’t shy complaining about the cookies I choose for you!”

Yoongi blushes at this, his laughter timid.

“The cookies you choose are fine.” He finally says, “Just had a lot of fun messing with you.” He looks up and smirks. “So,” Yoongi begins licking his ice cream again, “What do you do? Or is the bakery it?”

You internally groan. You hate this question. You have a marketing degree yet you work selling cookies.

“Uh, for now, yeah.”

“Why just for now?”

“I have a degree in marketing but…”

“Oh? Your passion lies in marketing then?” he continues to kitten lick his ice cream.

You don’t mean to scoff, but you do. You fucking do.

“Ha, passion.” You chuckle bitterly, “I hate that word.”

Yoongi raises his brows in curiosity, “Why’s that?”

“I don’t think I…” you struggle to find your words, the topic making you antsy.

“You don’t think you have a passion? Is that it?” Yoongi hits bulls fucking eye. You sigh out, finishing up your ice cream and take a bite of your cone.

“I know, that seems impossible right? Everyone has—”

“It’s okay.” He states plainly, finishing up his own ice cream. “Having a passion…a dream…you don’t have to have something like that to live a good life. Even just surviving the day is the dream.” He looks into your eyes and he shows that gummy smile you are learning to enjoy so much.

His words…you don’t really realize the impact they are leaving on you, his beautiful and wise words are exactly what you need to hear.

Yoongi continues,

“I thought I had big dreams but in the end my dream was small, it was simple. I just want to live happily. Maybe it’s the same for you, I don’t know though. I’m only now getting to know you.” His shy tone makes you feel weak.

“No, no. I think you’re right.” You admit between soft breaths. “I only pursued marketing because I knew I could find a job in the field not because I like it…I am failing miserably in interviews. All my friends are going on doing what they love and I’m just…here.”

Yoongi looks amused for a second before his soft smile returns,

“Isn’t being here enough?” he asks.

Is it? You think to yourself, is it really?

“Are you happy y/n?”

Woah, that’s a loaded question. You chew on your lips instinctively, deciding how you should answer this—if you should answer this.

“Life is a bit complicated right now.” You laugh awkwardly.

Yoongi laughs too, he nods his head in understanding.

“Even with complications, you can still find moments where you’re happy, right?”

You feel yourself becoming drawn to Yoongi’s wise and understanding nature, his words creating a warmth in you. You feel like you’re actually making a friend.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“You just gotta find the small things in life to be grateful for and eventually each small moment will add up and create big moments of happiness for you.” Yoongi smiles then stands to his feet and heads towards the trashcan to throw your trash away. While he’s gone for the few seconds he’s away, you sit back in your chair and think.

What’s complicated in your life right now? Well, you can’t find a fucking job to save your life, you’re afraid you wasted four years of college on the wrong degree—but what’s the right degree? You and Jungkook are the definition of the word ‘complicated’ and you’re afraid you’ll be stuck in unrequited love forever. But you have good friends, you like your coworkers and your job for the most part, you live in a good apartment, your parents call you regularly, you found a lady bug on a flower this morning, the list goes on!

Yoongi sits back down and folds his hands in front of him, he looks up at you with expectant eyes.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Tell me more about you.”

You’re about to say something when realization hits you,

“How much were the ice creams?! They’re my treat, remember?” you quickly unzip your purse and pull out your wallet, fully ready to hand him some cash when he’s shaking his hands in front of him, denying you.

“No no, it’s okay, really.” Yoongi ushers you to put your wallet away, his smile brightens and you find yourself slumping in your chair in defeat.

“Fine.” You huff out dramatically.

“You can pay next time.” He looks down at his hands as he smiles to himself.

“Oh? There’s a next time?”

“Yeah, hanging out with you is fun y/n. I don’t want to just see you when I buy cookies...coming to see you is getting expensive.” He laughs into his shoulder.

“I just think you really have a cookie addiction.”

“Something like that.” He looks into your eyes for a moment before tearing them away to look back down at his hands. “Do you have any siblings?”

“Nope. But I have a lot of cousins, so it almost feels like I didn’t grow up lonely.”

“Your parents didn’t want to have any more kids?” Yoongi pries further.

“Actually, they weren’t supposed to have kids at all. I was there miracle baby, as they call it.” You laugh into your hands, “It feels ridiculous saying that out loud myself.” You laugh some more.

“Miracle baby, huh?” Yoongi teases. “Are your parents still together?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, they are.”

You parents are in a great, functioning relationship so why is it so hard for you to get into one?! “Are yours?”

“Nah, divorced.” Yoongi says with no bitter tone in his voice.

“Oh. I’m so—”

“Nah, it was for the best. Nothing dramatic happened they just weren’t meant to be.” He smiles at you and you nod your head.

You’re about to speak up again when you feel someone’s hand grip your shoulder and your name being called out. You know this voice. No, it can’t be. Jungkook.

“y/n?” He looks at you with confused eyes as he looks between you and Yoongi.

Jungkook is standing here next to your fucking table with his fucking girlfriend who is not his girlfriend, fucking Vanessa. She looks at you with a bored expression and tilts her head to the side.

“Hey.” He smiles at you but then looks at Yoongi again, “Uh, hey man. I’m Jungkook.”

Yoongi watches as you sit here with your mouth wide open, but he’s quick to shake his head and look up at Jungkook and introduce himself.

“Yoongi.”

Vanessa doesn’t waste her time in greeting anyone, she just taps her skinny little fingers on the table and whines into Jungkook’s ear about hurrying up.

“You guys wanna sit with us? There’s like no other tables.” You cannot believe your own ears as you offer that to them. Vanessa visibly frowns and rolls her to the side as Jungkook reacts just the opposite.

“Really?” his bunny grin taking over his whole face. You nod your head and gesture for him to go order his ice cream. He takes Vanessa’s hand and they head towards the line.

“Sorry for inviting them…I didn’t think.” You admit softly to Yoongi but he doesn’t seem mad. Not at all.

“A close friend of yours, I’m assuming?”

“Very.” You place some loose strands of hair behind your ear, you awkwardly laugh and begin pulling at the ends of your hairs. A nervous tick of yours, for sure.

“I see.” Yoongi smiles that fucking smile, like everything is okay. But is it? You don’t want to be in the same fucking room as Vanessa. But you’re giving her a chance for Jungkook’s sake.

“We aren’t really going to sit with them are we?” Vanessa’s smooth voice fills Jungkook’s ears as they wait in line.

“Why not? Plus she’s right, there’s like, no other tables.” Jungkook tries to reason.

“Why not? You cannot be ser—” she tilts her head, blinking at him, “Oh? You are? Also, you’re not worried about who this guy is? My Jungkookie isn’t feeling jealous is he?”

“Vanessa stop. It’s probably a friend from work or something.” He says nonchalantly.

“Maybe it’s a date.” Her silky voice annoying him.

“If it was a date why would she invite us?” he tries to reason again.

Vanessa tilts her head again and puts a finger to her lip, “Maybe she wants a foursome?”

“Stop.” Jungkook warns.

“I’m just trying to help you.”

You move to the other side of the table and sit next to Yoongi, you two bumping shoulders and you feel like a third grader with how giddy the action is making you.

“We’re here!” Jungkook announces excitedly. He lets Vanessa sit first and then he’s pulling out his own chair to sit in, right across from you.

“So Yoongi, how do you know our y/n?” Jungkook grins with all his teeth.

“I—”

“He’s a customer at work—”

“Yeah, I like to go to her bakery.”

Jungkook raises a brow, “Yeah the treats are good I guess.”

“Well, I don’t just go for the cookies.” Yoongi says, looking in your direction.

“Oh?” Jungkook sets his cup of ice cream down, “Oh.” He says again once realization hits him.

Vanessa glances up from her phone and smiles a smile that is void of all emotion at you and Yoongi, she sets the phone down and claps her hands softly a few times.

“So this is a date.”

“No—”

“Yes.”

You snap your head towards Yoongi with a shocked eyes. Did he just say this is a date? Then he’s smiling at you with apologetic eyes.

“I mean, I would like it to be.”

Your head immediately faces forward to see Jungkook’s reaction. He looks as shocked and confused as you, you begin shaking your head.

“Uh…um…” you say, your eyes still on Jungkook. He looks between you and Yoongi then he frowns. Fucking frowns!

“We can discuss that later.” You finally say, laughing awkwardly. Jungkook turns towards Vanessa and glares at her, fucking glares.

“What?” She mouths innocently, going back to her phone.

“Anyway,” you try to break the awkward tension, “I think me and Yoongi are going to head out actually.”

“We just sat down?” Jungkook looks at you with his big, stupid doe eyes and you almost want to stay but you know what’s for the best.

“I’ll walk you back to the store?” Yoongi asks from beside you.

You nod your head in agreeance, standing to your feet while Yoongi follows. Jungkook stands up too, not ready for you to leave.

“I’ll see you later?” Jungkook asks with pleading eyes.

You hesitate for a moment but end up nodding your head in approval.

“Uh, bye Vanessa.” You force out, your voice a little loud as you bid your farewells to her.

Vanessa continues tapping on her phone but uses one hand to wave you off.

This fucking bitch. What does Jungkook see in her? You just don’t see the appeal? Yeah, she’s gorgeous. But is that all I takes for Jungkook?

“Yeah, okay.” You roll your eyes and Jungkook looks at you sympathetically. He will scold Vanessa later.

You and Yoongi take it slow walking back to the bakery. You two walking idly, and stopping by other shops just for the fun of it.

“About what I said earlier…I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” Yoongi is messing with a scarf on the mannequin inside this little boutique.

“You didn’t. I was just…surprised is all.”

“Is Jungkook like, your ex-boyfriend or something?” Yoongi doesn’t waste any time apparently. “Because you guys seem to have some history.” How can he tell you have history?!

“Sorry, I’m just a really observant person.” He chuckles.

“Um, no but we were best friends but some things happened and…” you hesitate to continue, “And…”

“It’s okay. Life has complications remember? But there’s still happy moments. So, tell me what’s not complicated about you two?”

“I love him.” you blurt out. “Wait, wait. I mean. Fuck. I mean—”

“That’s normal. He was your best friend, right?”

You sigh out in relief, your deep exhale heard throughout the whole shop.

“Exactly.”

“Are you still best friends?”

“That’s the complicated part.” You breathe out, “But does he still mean the most to me? Yeah.”

“I see.” Yoongi takes the scarf and wraps it around your neck, “I had someone like that too.” He smiles. “But I was in love with them.”

You choke on your spit, what is Yoongi…is he…does he know?

“Oh.” You decide to laugh, “But that’s not the case with me and Jungkook.”

“Never said it was.” He inspects the scarf around your neck, “You should get this,” he motions towards the scarf, “It looks good on you.”

“It’s summer time!” you laugh, “But thanks.” Your phone starts buzzing, you pull it from your back pocket to get a look at it.

Jungkook 7:42pm

Hey

Jungkook 7:42pm

Wanna come over later? Nick isn’t home

Jungkook 7:42pm

I know you said no solo hang outs but I thought I would give it a shot

Does this mean he’s ending his night early with Vanessa? If so, you may throw the whole rule away about no solo hang outs. You just cannot stand her. You don’t want to say you hate her but you do hate her attitude and honestly, overall personality.

You look over to Yoongi who is messing with the material of some cardigan, and you almost feel bad if you decide to ditch him. But your night was ending anyway, right?

y/n 7:45pm

hmm, sure. I’ll be over at 9, does that work?

Jungkook 7:45pm

Yes.

You slide your phone back into your pocket and head towards Yoongi and his new cardigan that you are assuming he is buying consider how smitten he looks with it.

“It’s nice, right?” he says holding up the piece of clothing.

“Try it on!”

“Don’t forget to come by the record store sometime y/n, since you’re a human being who loves music.” Yoongi chuckles, he leans forward and you share a cute yet awkward hug.

“Bye Yoongi. I’ll def be by.”

You unlock your car and step inside, sitting down. Yoongi shuts the car door for you and smiles and waves you goodbye as he starts heading towards his own car.

Tonight was nice, weird, then nice again. You definitely won’t use Yoongi to distract yourself from Jungkook but you definitely feel like you made a friend. He gave you some words of wisdom and comfort, that you really needed to hear. You feel like Yoongi could become someone important in your life.

~~~~~

Jungkook 9:14pm

When will you be here?

y/n 9:15pm

be there in 15.

Jungkook steps out of the shower, his towel hanging dangerously low around his hips as he takes a look in his fogged up mirror.

“You can do this.” He tells himself, his teeth catching his bottom lip.

He can hang out with you like things are back to normal. He can hang out with you like you guys are still just best fucking friends. But he hasn’t seen you since you were sick, since you had your hand in a dangerous place. Since he dreamed of you while in bed with you.

He can be normal. Like he didn’t fuck Vanessa and moan out your name the entire time. He groans and cringes just remembering that. Vanessa assured him it was fine but that just makes him feel worse. He feels guilt ridden while she remains coy and sickingly sweet.

Apparently, Jungkook got lucky. But will it be this way with every girl he’s with from now on? That’s unacceptable.

Soft knocking can be heard from the front door and a chime from his phone goes off. You must be here, he thinks.

He doesn’t have time to dress so he decided to say fuck it and open the door this way, it’s not like you haven’t seen this view before…you lived together.

He approaches the door, taking a long, deep breath before he’s swinging it open and letting you in.

You’re wearing leggings and one of his t shirts, his chest tightens at the sight. Jungkook quickly apologizes for not being dressed and you nod your head slowly, taking in his more than half naked appearance.

You flush at the sight, his towel doing barely anything to cover the outline of his length, and shit, the towel is short on him…his monstrous thighs flexing underneath. Your mouth waters as you shamelessly eye him up and down.

“Yeah…” you choke out, “Probably should get dressed…”

You make yourself comfortable on the sofa in the living room, some random movie is on TV and you mindlessly watch.

“Sorry about that” Jungkook laughs. He walks to the sofa, sitting beside you but with enough space. “You got here sooner than I thought.”

“Well, I live pretty close.” You point out, your face angled towards him. “So what’s up?” “Nothing, I just wanted to see you.” Jungkook eyes light up, “Oh! I have wine!”

You nod approvingly, “Now we’re talkin’ baby.”

Jungkook rushes to the kitchen to find two wine glasses and fills them to the brim, he walks back to the sofa and hands you a glass.

“I know you said no one on one hang outs but thanks for coming.”

“I’ll make an exception this time” you wink, bringing the glass to your lips. You nod at one another as each of you take a generous gulp.

“Aaahhh, alcohol.” You say in unison. Then you look at one another and burst into a giggle.

“How were your plans?” you pry. You set the glass down between your thighs as you move your body to face him, giving him your full attention.

“Uh…” Jungkook doesn’t know what to say.

“It’s just…” the words die on his tongue. He sends them to the graveyard as he sits back on the sofa and shuts his pretty mouth.

“You guys didn’t have fun?” you pry further. You want to know, for some reason you want to know what him and Vanessa were up to.

“Did you guys like, hang out after the ice cream place?”

“Not really…we…kind of hung out but it was quick.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“A quickie, huh?” you joke, but you wonder if that’s what it really was.

“y/n.” he warns, his hands go to massage his exposed thighs, his shorts doing little to cover all his muscles.

“I’d kill myself for a quickie, it’s been so long.” You decide to be honest, you’re trying to be like normal friends again.

Jungkook’s brows crease as he looks at you, “Don’t say stuff like that.”

“Right, sorry.” You pat his shoulder, “But really, it’s been forever.” You say again.

“Um, when was the last—”

“Taehyung.”

Jungkook’s frown deepens, “When’s the last time you spoke to him?”

“Maybe a week ago? He sends me texts occasionally.”

“You talk to him?!” Jungkook howls out, his hands gripping his shorts.

“It’s more like he talks to me.” You chuckle. “What about you? When is the last time you talked to him?”

“Umm…”

“What?”

“About a day after you told me everything.” Jungkook’s eyes slide to the side, a look of guilt plastered on his face.

“You went and talked to him after?” the shock is evident in your voice.

“Something like that…” Jungkook scratches the top of his head, deciding if he should tell you the truth. He decides to be honest.

“I went over there to kick his ass.”

“Jungkook!” you blink at him repeatedly, until you’re snorting. “And how did that go?”

“Gave him a black eye.”

“And you?”

“Got a busted lip from it.” He admits, even though you can tell he didn’t want to say that last part.

“Fighting is never the answer.”

“He deserved it, y/n.”

“And did you deserve the busted lip?”

“Yeah.”

You weren’t expecting him to agree with that so quickly, you were just joking around. You realize Jungkook is probably still trying to forgive himself, like he once told you.

“Well, everything’s okay now right?”

“Is it y/n?” he doesn’t look at you. He only stares straight ahead.

“Jung—”

“I am still so sorry…” Jungkook exhales deeply, his hand finds its way to yours.

You tangle your fingers through his, until they’re interlocked.

“I know, Jungkook.”

“I’m trying so hard to…” Jungkook faces you, his frown making you wince. “…make this right.”

“I know, Jungkook.”

“I’m trying to…” he chokes on his words, his breathing becoming slightly unsteady, “…work this out.”

“Jungkook—”

“I’m trying.”

His palm in your hand becomes so sweaty and you almost want to detangle so you can wipe your hand on your yoga pants. But you keep holding on to his hand, his guilt very apparent to you right now.

You scoot closer to him until your knees are touching, you place yours and Jungkook’s hands in your lap.

“And we’re making it work, we’re taking it slow.”

“It almost feels like our friendship has started over y/n.” Jungkook’s voice cracks, “Like, I don’t remember how to be like we use to be…”

“I told you Jungkook, things probably wouldn’t be the same.” You squeeze his hand in yours, “But that’s okay. We…”

Jungkook looks at you with his doe eyes and you want to melt. You want to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“It may not be the same but could it be better this time around?” Jungkook asks with pleading eyes.

“I hope so baby.” Your other hand reaches forward and caresses Jungkook’s cheek and he leans into your touch, he breathes out, his breaths hitting your palm and you feel yourself getting hotter.

“You rarely call me baby.” Jungkook whispers. “Only time you really did is when we—”

“When we what, Jungkook?” you challenge, your hard stare making him shiver.

“I don’t have to say it.” He says. “Look, wanna get fucking wasted?”

You look at him for a few moments, just staring into his eyes before you crack a smile.

“I dare you to chug your entire glass of wine.” You point at the wine glass with your chin.

“Only if you chug yours.” Jungkook winks.

“Wow, aren’t we some classy bitches?” you joke.

You both clink your glasses together and begin chugging the wine back, the bitter flavor making you wanna puke but you handle it just fine.

“Phew, that was something” you say, trying not to throw up. “wow I am not young anymore, or what?”

“Yup, you’re an old lady. I chugged it like a champ.” Jungkook grins, setting his glass on the table in front of the couch.

“If we aren’t tipsy within the next 5 minutes I am punching someone.”

“I’m starting to wish Nick was home now, I don’t want to fall victim to your fists of fury.”

After several more glasses of wine has been drank, you find yourself snuggling close to Jungkook on the sofa.

“I thought you said no affection.” Jungkook slurs out, teasing you.

“Oh? Should I move away?”

Jungkook pulls you by the arm, making your body fall forward into his side. Closer and closer.

“Never.” Jungkook lays his head on top of yours. “Wanna go lay in bed? More comfortable.”

“Yes yes, sleep over.” You cheer drunkenly. Jungkook stands up and helps you to your feet as well. You fall forward into his arms and he has to half carry you to his room.

Jungkook has the same blue comforter on his bed and it brings you back to a million memories. You wonder how many times Vanessa has been tangled up in this blanket? You don’t even want to ask Jungkook if the sheets are clean…you don’t want to think about him with her.

“Come lay with me.” You slur out as you slip between the sheets. “I want to cuddle.”

“Coming, just gonna grab some water for us.”

“Kay” you respond lazily.

You look around Jungkook’s room, it looks exactly as his last room in the apartment you two shared. Somehow that makes you happy, like not much has changed.

“Okay, drink this.” Jungkook is nudging a glass of water between your lips but you refuse.

“Mm mm.” you shake your head.

“Be a good girl for me.” Jungkook says in a low voice, you blink up at him, opening your mouth to drink the water.

“Good.”

He sets the water down on the nightstand and sinks into bed with you, leaving the lamp on so there’s a nice, warm glow lighting up the room. You immediately snuggle close, your head nuzzling his chest.

“So…was that a date tonight?” Jungkook finds the drunken balls to ask you, finally.

“No.” you answer honestly. “But it could turn out that way.”

You don’t know why you say that. Maybe in hopes to make Jungkook jealous? But why would he be jealous?

“How so?”

“He’s a nice guy.”

“Pshh, I’ll be the judge of that.”

“He is, Jungkook.”

“So you give any nice guy a chance?” Jungkook slurs out. “I can be nice…” he says, barely above a whisper.

“Tell me 3 nice things then.” Your hand lays rest over his stomach, you rub circles on it and he sighs out.

“You’re…” Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip as he thinks, “Really beautiful.” He turns to lay on his side to face you. “Really smart.” His breaths are mingling with your own. “And really funny.”

“What generic answers.” You laugh. “But I’ll take them” you look up into his eyes, they’re dark and beautiful. “Should I compliment you too?” you ask, your drunk mind giving you confidence.

“Yes please.”

“You’re really, like really fun to be with.” Your fingers brush some of his hair out of his eyes, “You make me laugh a lot. And I think you’re really sexy.” You chuckle.

“Sexy?” he slurs out, licking his lips over and over as he watches you nod your head.

“Yeah.” Your hand goes back to his stomach, your fingers go under his shirt, brushing your fingers over his sensitive skin and he releases a long breath as he slowly closes his eyes.

“y/n…” Jungkook whines out quietly, his erratic breaths not going unnoticed by you.

“You like being touched by me?” you whisper.

“Yes.”

You know you are both too drunk right now but you cannot help but continue.

Your fingers dip lower, caressing his lower belly, your touch so light he almost doesn’t feel it. But he does feel it. He feels it.

That same hand crawls up his chest and goes behind his head, gripping a handful of hair and slightly tugging his locks, Jungkook whimpers at the feeling.

Jungkook’s hips rut forward and you feel yourself getting hotter. Jungkook has his eyes screwed shut when you tug his hair again, this time pulling his head back to expose his throat.

Your other hand reaches up and with your pointer finger you drag it from his lips down his throat until you reach his collar bones then you slowly, very slowy drag that same finger down his chest and his toned stomach.

Jungkook tries to steady his breathing but he can’t. Your own breathing not much better. You decide to retreat both hands back to your sides when Jungkook’s eyes shoot open.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark and dreamy.

“You think you can just tease me like that?” Jungkook’s voice is the lowest you’ve heard it. “Huh, y/n?”

Your name slips past his lips in a low, seductive tone and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together. You’re drunk, you keep reminding yourself. You should stop this. But—

“What are you going to do about it Jeon?”

Jungkook glares at you before he’s smirking, his hands circle around your waist and he pulls you into his body, your chest flush against his. You feel his hard length against your stomach and you swear right then and there you become undeniably wet.

Jungkook just stares at you, stares into your eyes, stares at your lips until he’s breathing so erratically. Your harsh breaths hit his skin and he leans forward until his forehead is touching yours. Your lips so close yet so far.

��We’re drunk.” He slurs out, but there is amusement in his voice.

“Drunk people do things they’re not supposed to all the time.” You tease.

Jungkook’s go from your waist to your hips real quick, he pulls them closer to his crotch. You feel how hard he is at your center and you want to moan out right then and there. The clothed contact feels so fucking good.

“Jung—”

Jungkook desperately brings you in close, his lips connecting with yours. His mouth is warm and moving against yours messily and aggressively. You pause the kiss to moan but then dive right back in. He ruts his hips forward, you feel how desperate he is and you find yourself grinding your hips into his. The pleasure on a whole other level, his clothed cock rubbing against you so deliciously.

His tongue finds its way into your mouth, he plays with your tongue, tangling them together. You continue to moan out, your hands exploring the front of his body until you hand finds its way back into his hair. You know he loves to have his hair pulled, you do. You tug it gently at first, he disconnects his mouth from yours to groan out. Then you’re pulling it a little harder and he’s rutting against you faster. He guides your head to expose your neck to him and he begins sucking bruises, leaving his pretty art work behind.

“y/n.” your name gets dragged out between his teeth and you swear you become even wetter. You yank his head forward until his lips are on yours again, you kiss him over and over until he’s begging to be touched.

But you don’t touch him, no. You just continue to kiss him, like your life depends on it. Your lips move from his mouth to his neck, you suck on his skin as he whimpers out.

Jungkook’s hands grab a hold of your ass, grinding you closer into his crotch and you moan at the feeling. You never knew this much action with clothes on could feel so fucking good.

“Love this ass.” He massages your cheeks and gives them a light spank. You whisper his name over and over, your lips attacking his neck again. You two move desperately against one another, he finds your lips again and kisses you wet and sloppy and you couldn’t be more turned on.

And next thing you know the sun is making its way through his blinds and it’s morning. You’re dead asleep in Jungkook’s arms. The boy snoozing away as well. You two completely oblivious to last night’s adventures.

You begin to open your eyes, taking in your surroundings. That’s right, you’re in Jungkook’s room. You look all around the room until your eyes land on him. You smile softly until you see it. A purple bruise blooming on his neck…several in fact. And last night’s events hit you like a fucking train.

You quickly sit up in bed, panic filling your body when Jungkook begins to stir in his sleep, your action waking him up. He opens his own eyes and sees you staring down at him.

He notices his own evidence of his attack on your neck and goes pale. Then he says the words you’ve been thinking.

“Oh fuck.”

[comfortwriting]

Keep Me Warm - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist, Taglist

Fred Weasley X Fem Reader

Requested/About: Fred and Y/N move into their new flat, Fred soon realises that his neighbours are crushing on his girlfriend, Y/N. One evening, he's tired of having to explain that you're his, so he makes it clear in another way.

Warnings: 18+ smut, mention of eating, smoking, breeding kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, jealous Fred, swearing.

Prompt 106: "Be careful" he warned you, fucking you faster "you know how bad I want to knock you up."

Prompt 117: "That's it, baby! Moan my name, tell me how good it feels as I fuck you!"

"That's the last box!" you beamed up at Fred, standing at the bottom of the stairs, excited to finally get settled into your flat.

Fred peered over the stairs and smiled at you, looking proud and accomplished; finally able to start a new chapter as a husband and wife.

"Shall we get everything unboxed?" he asked, his smile widening - turning into a grin.

"As long as we start with the bed first." You smirked.

The front door behind you opened, two young men walked through, they looked like brothers, they closed the door behind them and you could smell the tobacco on their clothes.

"Sorry!" you went bright red "I hope I'm not being too loud."

Fred walked down the stairs slowly, staring at the two brothers who were eyeing you up and down.

"Not at all" the man held out his hand "I'm Stewart."

"I'm Y/N" you smiled back, shaking hands with him "This is my husband, Fred."

Stewart raised his eyebrows, but still shook hands with his new neighbour.

"Husband? You look a little too young to be married."

Fred bit his tongue, he didn't judge them - yet they were already judging you. What did it matter to them if you were married or your age? It's none of their business.

"We've been together since high school" Fred interrupted "Been together ten years now."

Stewart nodded, then introduced his brother Steven who couldn't take his eyes off you, staring at your breasts and behind.

"It's lovely to meet you" he smiled, he then turned to face Fred "it's nice to meet you, Fred."

Fred quickly ushered you upstairs, refusing the offered help from the brothers who were eager to help you unpack. He carried the last box up the stairs, slammed the door with his foot and set the box on the floor, he looked slightly ticked off.

"You okay Freddie?" you asked softly, pulling out a vase from the box, placing it on the kitchen counter.

Fred grumbled and pulled out his wand, waving it, your furniture sliding across the room, the bed pulling together, the plates and dishes flying into the cabinets and your books speeding across the room, landing, and sitting comfortably on the bookshelf.

"Hey!" you frowned "you promised me no magic."

Fred walked towards you and planted a soft kiss on your head "sorry, love." he said softly "I'm just a bit pissed off, that's all."

You placed your hand against his face, stroking his cheek with his thumb "ignore them" you sighed "it's not like they're next door."

If only you knew, unfortunately, the brothers did live next door - and they couldn't help but spend the entire afternoon making a dessert pie for you - of course, they would express it being for both you and Fred, but that was bullshit, they didn't care about your husband.

"Ten years with the same guy, how miserable," Stewart said, pulling the pie out of the oven.

"Fred!" they heard you giggle through the walls "Give me that back!"

Steven looked at his brother and shrugged "I don't know, she sounds pretty happy to me."

"Well, she could do much better." Stewart grabbed a postcard with sunflowers standing up tall in the sun, he scribbled a note on the back.

"That I agree with." Steven laughed, he pulled out a cigarette "going out for a smoke, you coming?"

Stewart shook his head "I'm good, going to take this round."

Steven nodded, your laughter and Fred's broke through the walls, "I'll see you afterwards then."

Fred chased you around the room with the feather duster, trying to tickle you, you were starting to get out of breath and stopped in your tracks forming a 'T' with your two hands.

"Time out!" you wheezed "Time out!"

Fred lifted you into his arms, pecking kisses all over your neck "Time out? We were just getting started."

Before Fred could continue, a knock rapped at the door, Fred put you down and walked over to the door, looking through the peephole.

"Fuck sake" he mouthed.

You walked over and looked through the hole, Stewart stood there with the pie in the glass tray.

"Oh Freddie" you whispered "he's just being nice."

You pushed in front of Fred and opened the door, Stewart looked up and smiled at you, Fred stood behind you and didn't bother to hide his sour expression or glares.

"Hope you don't mind me bringing this for you both tonight" he smiled "Apple pie, hope you like it."

"I prefer my mums" Fred interrupted.

You rolled your eyes and took the pie from Stewart, inviting him inside and putting the kettle on, remembering to keep your wand inside your pocket. Cutting the pie into slices, you plated them up and set the three plates down on the table, sitting with your annoyed husband and eager neighbour.

"So how did you know which number?" you asked, taking a bit out of the delicious pie.

"We're next door actually!" Stewart beamed, this flat has been empty for months, seeing you move in made us realise someone finally decided to rent the place."

Fred gritted his teeth, he hated Stewart, he hated the pie, the fact that he was next door - he couldn't bring himself to engage in conversation, he couldn't anyway - Stewart was only interested in you.

The rest week didn't turn out how you expected since moving into your own place, Fred spent more time at work, and would be in the foulest mood when he came home, he couldn't stand being next door to a man who became infatuated with you, who was pushing his luck and went too far one evening which kickstarted the worst argument between you and your husband.

"Why does it matter?!" you yelled back, draining the bath of its water.

"Can't you understand?" Fred hissed "He's in love with you!"

"He's just being nice!" you picked up your towel, drying yourself before wrapping it around your body "You're never here anymore! You're always at work and when you come home you treat me like shit!"

"He's trying to fuck you!" Fred shut the bathroom door so you couldn't leave "I'm away from home because I can't stand him, I can't stand you getting close to him."

"Fred-"

"No, Y/N, I've tried and he just doesn't get it. He wants us to argue, he wants you all to himself!"

You rested against the tile wall, staring up at your husband as his soft hand pushed the stray hairs out of your face.

You realised that Fred was right - there was a reason Stewart only came to visit when Fred was working, why he showered you with kind desserts and sweet notes, and how his obsession with you had caused Fred to become so distant within the past few weeks.

You placed your index finger against your lips, shushing your husband "he'll be able to hear us" you whispered.

Fred nuzzled his nose into yours, kissing your neck softly, looking at you with a smirk on his face.

"And I know he's listening," Fred whispered back.

You dropped the towel to the floor, exposing your naked body, Fred lifted you up into his arms, you wrapped your legs around him and giggled as he carried you into the bedroom, he sucked on your nipple softly, circling his tongue around it. You moaned out softly, he slowly lowered you onto the bed.

Fred pulled his mouth from your nipple, slowly planting wet kisses down your warm body, reaching your navel, he spread your legs and planted a soft kiss on your clit, causing you to moan out a little louder than you meant - Fred looked up at you and smirked.

"Don't be quiet now" he growled "I want them to hear you."

Fred slowly dragged his tongue over your clit teasingly, you looked down at his hard dick poking through his trousers.

"I want you, Freddie." you breathed staring at his hard-on "Please."

Fred licked his lips, pulling off his shirt, then unbuttoning his trousers and pulling down his zipper. You tried to sit up but Fred pushed you back down, shaking his head, you stared at his cock poking through his boxers, he finally pulled them down and his erection slapped against his lower stomach.

Pulling in to kiss you passionately, Fred stroked his cock and pulled out the lube from the bedside table, pulling away to lather it on his cock, which he stroked against your pussy teasingly.

Fred sat on the end of the bed and summoned you over to him with his index and middle finger, you crawled over to him and sat down on him slowly, facing away from him, reverse cowgirl, but your feet were on the floor - you stared at your husband through the mirror.

His hands gripped onto your waist, his hard cock now pushing inside of you, your eyes closing shut and your jaw hanging open for a moment as you adjusted to his length and the feeling of him stretching you out.

Fred's left hand let go of your waist and gripped your hair, pulling you down as you leant forward. Grinding on your husband, his soft moans filled the bedroom - but he stopped you - he didn't want Stewart to hear how good you made him feel, he wanted to fuck you so hard that your moans had Fred's name all over it.

Your husband started to buck his hips faster, pounding into you, your moans and the slapping noises filling the bedroom and spilling into next door.

The feeling of him reaching deeper inside of you, his right hand on your waist and his left in your hair sent shivers down your spine, biting your lip you remembered what he said, and didn't stop yourself from moaning out loud.

"Fuck!" you panted heavily, watching Fred through the mirror "You feel so good, Freddie!"

Fred grunted, pushing you onto the floor, the palms of your hands resting against the wooden floor, now in doggy style, your husband pushed his cock deeper inside you, this position bringing you more pleasure.

"Fred!" you wailed "Fred!"

"That's it, baby! Moan my name, tell me how good it feels as I fuck you!" Fred panted, your walls tightening around him, his cock throbbing at the thought of Stewart knowing that you belonged to no one else but him.

"It feels so fucking good!" you wailed "You're so deep inside me!"

Your husband picked up speed, your palms and knees pressing deeper into the wooden floor, your juices coated Fred's cock, as did the lube, making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.

Fred continued to pant, his forehead and body covered in beads of sweat, the sight of your body and the sound of your moans, the feeling of your walls strangling his length pushed him closer to the edge; both of you were having the time of your life, and Stewart knew it.

Stewart sat in the kitchen, his face red, an expression flashed like he had been slapped in the face, he hated Fred, he hated that he was fucking you - owning your pussy - making you feel better than anyone else ever could.

Sensing that Fred was close, his cock throbbing inside of you, you pushed your arse out and spread your legs further so Fred could watch his juice throated cock fill you up. You could feel your climax reaching closer, the pressure in your tummy building up.

"Y/N" Fred groaned "You're so fucking tight-"

"I-I'm cumming!" You wailed, the pressure in your stomach bursting.

"Cum for me baby!" Fred yelled, so next door could hear.

Your cum flowed down Fred's length, he couldn't keep up much longer, and the sight of your pussy in this state was sending him over the edge.

"Be careful" he warned you, fucking you faster "you know how bad I want to knock you up."

You chewed on your lip, the pleasure increasing, your moans getting louder.

"Cum inside me" you begged "Please!"

Your begging pushed Fred to the edge, before he could pull out he released himself deep inside of you, filling you up.

“Don’t move” you breathed “keep me warm.”

Whilst you and your husband climbed down from your climax, Stewart had his head in his hands, feeling frustrated that his plan didn't work out. Luckily for you, this was enough to send him packing.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @horrorxweasley @lucymfer @onlyfreds @sebby-staan @xmalfoyweasleyx @freddiemylovelg @pandaxnienke 

[scuttling]

Head Over Feet - Chapter 4

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Spencer Reid/Female Reader (Unrequited) Word Count: 5,180 Chapters: 4/4 Complete Tags: 18+, NSFW, Unrequited love, Protected sex, Oral sex, Vaginal fingering, Rough sex, Friends with benefits, Praise kink, Daddy kink, TW Fire, TW Burns Summary: Falling in love with one of your two closest friends was never something you planned; it only makes sense that falling in love with the other would also come as a complete surprise. *Inspired by/in collaboration with @ssamorganhotchner. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Link to AO3 or read chapter 4 below! You pat Spencer on the back, rub your hand soothingly over his shoulders. He’s not crying, but he’s clinging to you like a child, and your heart aches for him a little.

“I’m sorry, Spence. I know it’s hard when you care about someone and things don’t work out, especially because of what we do. It’s complicated; sometimes people just don’t understand.”

He shifts out of your embrace, stands up, runs a hand over his face.

“I’ve spent most of my life not being understood. I thought maybe I found someone who finally got me.”

You get him, you muse; you’ve always been the one to translate his info dumps into useful commentary, to sense when he’s overwhelmed, anxious, to pull him back before his emotions get the better of him. You may only be his friend, but dismissing that fact hurts more than it should.

You sigh, step into the kitchen, fill your electric kettle with water and turn it on, pull a box of chamomile tea out of the cupboard.

“I’ll be right back. Watch the kettle,” you say, patting his arm, and you head for the bedroom.

Aaron has his undershirt on, and he sits on the edge of the bed staring at the tv—he’s not so much watching it as just looking at it, and when he catches sight of you in the doorway, he turns it off.

“What’s going on?”

“Chelsea broke up with him,” you explain, wrapping your robe tighter around your body. “He missed a function because of work, and she wasn’t able to see past that. It’s been a point of contention.” You know it’s a bit of a sore subject, even after all this time, because of his divorce; you try to tread lightly.

“I should go,” he says, standing, and instantly your heartbeat races. You step toward him, put your hands on his arms.

“No, don’t go. Aaron,” you say when he pulls back, looking around the room as if forgetting that all of the rest of his clothes are piled by your front door. “Please, I don’t want you to go.”

“He needs you.” His voice doesn’t sound particularly kind or unkind, just flat, and you sigh, reach up and take his face in your hands.

“Hey. I’m making him a cup of tea—to go.” He wets his lips, and you pull him down for a slow, soft kiss, drag it out, breathe against his mouth. “Please stay with me.”

“You want me to stay, and you want him to go,” he murmurs, clarifying, and you nod, kiss him again.

“Yes. Give me ten minutes?” He agrees, and you turn to head back to the kitchen, but he stops you, pulls you close for a kiss so full of hunger it makes your head spin. You wouldn’t have thought you’d have another round in you after all that, but it may not be completely out of the question.

Back in the kitchen, Spencer leans against the counter, waiting for the water to boil. His eyes roam over you, and then the mess on the floor—clothes, shoes… condom wrapper.

“I didn’t realize he was here,” he rasps. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have come.”

“It’s alright. I understand.” You walk around him, pull a travel mug down from the cupboard, an unspoken sign that a warmer welcome is not being extended tonight. “You’ll go home and get some sleep. In the morning, call her and apologize for the things you said. The situation may not be as hopeless in the light of day.”

“It feels pretty hopeless,” he counters, and you stand next to him, look up at him.

“There have been times I’ve felt pretty hopeless. You’ll get through it, with or without her.” He rests his elbows on the counter, his head in his hands, frowns exaggeratedly.

“I wouldn’t blame her if she doesn’t take me back. I was a jerk.”

“Love makes us brave and dumb; it’s an unfortunate combination—and you, Doctor, are not used to feeling dumb.” You tap him lightly on the arm, smile softly. “If she gets you as well as you think, she just might understand your reasons for saying what you said.”

“How did you get through it? When we… When I…” He trails off, but you don’t need him to finish; you both know what he means to say. “Because it feels like my heart is literally breaking, even though I know that’s biologically impossible.”

“It wasn’t without effort, or… help.” You think of Aaron in your bedroom, who has been nothing but patient and kind and caring, who has been there through sleepless nights and self-doubt and you being, honestly, a little insufferable; the thought makes you smile. You loop an arm around his, lean against his shoulder. “Or the knowledge that what is meant to be will be. I was meant to love you, Spencer Reid—but only like this: friends, partners, bad movie buddies.”

“I like this,” he agrees, and you stand close until the kettle beeps. You prepare his tea, snap the lid on the cup, hand it over, and he leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Okay, I’m taking your advice. Wish me luck?”

“All the luck,” you say with a smile, and then you see him out, close and lock the door behind him. You make a second cup of tea—in an FBI mug, this time—and head back to your bedroom, press the cup into Aaron’s hand where he sits propped up against the pillows.

“Is everything alright?” he asks as you climb onto the bed, curl up against his side.

“I think so; I gave him some advice, he left in better spirits. Whether or not they can work it out is another story. He can take it from here, though.” Aaron takes a sip of tea, hands you the mug, and you take a sip and then set it on your bedside table. “I’m glad you didn’t leave,” you say softly when you turn back to him; you just look up at him for a moment, then wrap your fingers in his t-shirt, pull him close for a slow kiss. “I don’t ever want you to leave, you know?” You brush your nose along his, and he brings a hand to your cheek, kisses you back—it starts as something tender, but becomes steamier as it goes on, until you’re panting, breathless against each other’s lips.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he whispers, and you kiss again, a bit rougher, more desperate, pull his shirt over his head. You sweep your hands over his shoulders, his arms, brush one through his hair.

“Good. Don’t leave me.” You rise to your knees, untie your robe, and he gets his hands inside it, runs them over your body, pushes the robe off and onto the bed. He presses up to pull his boxers off, and you swing a leg over his, straddle his thighs, curl in to kiss him deeply, wet and messy. “Don’t leave me, Aaron,” you breathe, beg against his lips, and you lean forward to slip him inside.

You grip his shoulders, moan as you sink down, and work your hips, pressing kisses to his face and hair. His hands caress you, running up your back, gripping your hair where it falls over the back of your neck. “Oh, baby. Fuck,” he groans as you move up and down, and the hand on your back slides down to press against your ass, to encourage your quick, eager movements. “You’re so good; you feel so good. I’m here, I won’t leave you.”

“Hmm. And I’m yours, right daddy?” You look up at him, chest heaving, grip his hair at the back of his head, and he nods, moves his other hand to your ass as well and squeezes hard; you whimper, tip your head back, slam down roughly.

“You’re mine, kitten, all mine; you belong to daddy.”

“Oh, fuck yes. Yes.” You moan, lean back in his lap, press your hands against his legs, and ride him hard; nothing has ever sounded better than his groans, looked better than his face while you fuck like you haven’t already gotten off twice by his perfect body tonight.

You let your hair fall back, bring a hand up to rest on his flexing stomach, and he surprises you by running his hands over your thighs, then your legs, pushing you up so you have to plant your feet against the bed. He wraps his big hands around your hips, takes control and moves your body up and down on his cock, your ass meeting his thighs with each of his thrusts. The new position means you’re leaned back further than before, and that he can see everything—your blissed out face, bouncing breasts, your pussy as it hugs him, enveloping him in tight, wet heat.

“Daddy’s good girl, fucking so pretty,” he grinds out, and you just hold onto his legs, moan while he works to bring you both off. “Come on my cock, baby, all over it. Give it to me.”

“Oh, god. Yes, daddy. I will, I will.” Your head drops back, exposing your throat, and you swallow hard, whine your impatience. You want to please him and find release, and it’s frustrating but so fucking sexy, the position he’s put you in. “Harder, please, please.”

“Harder? Are you sure you can take it?” He slams you down roughly, thrusts up faster, and you tremble both with effort and pleasure, press your nails against his thighs.

“I can take it, I can take you. Feels so good.” You’re breaking a sweat, can feel it prickling at the nape of your neck, behind your knees, and you bounce in his hands, clamp tight, nearly sigh in relief when your orgasm is just out of reach. “I’m gonna come, daddy, gonna come on your cock—oh, fuck. Fuck.”

“Yes, baby, just like that.”

Your climax is powerful, lengthy, and Aaron is loving it if the tightened grip on your hips, the low groans of pleasure are any indication. You don’t have it in you to help anymore, too worn out, but he continues to move your body until he comes, and you stare down at him, satisfied and out of breath and ridiculously—surprisingly—in love.

Oh, fuck. Three weeks go by, and you don’t talk about it—with anyone. It eats at you, and you simultaneously want to scream it from the rooftops and hide it in the dark and hope that the feelings pass.

You love Aaron. You’re in love with Aaron. Your best friend, friend with benefits, the man you suddenly on a whim decided to call daddy because you just can’t get enough of him: of his strong hands, soft hair, lips and voice and just… everything.

You’re not sure when exactly your feelings for Spencer went away, but it’s like they drifted off silently into the night, only to be gradually replaced by sharing big breakfasts and a hot coffee on your desk and wearing his flannel pajama pants just because they’re comfy and lazy morning sex on the weekends—

—are you dating Aaron? Because friends with benefits doesn’t feel like coming home to just the right person at the end of the day, like you missed him even though you work together. It doesn’t feel like desperation, like a need to know you belong in his arms, like a confirmation that he’s here because he wants to be, not just because you asked him to be.

Things haven’t really changed since that night—you still go to one of your apartments after work, have dinner, have sex some evenings or just relax others, sleep together every night—but you’re so nervous you’re going to slip up and say or do something to clue him in that you’re almost always on edge now. He notices, because he notices things, and because he notices you.

“What’s got you acting so odd lately?” he asks softly in your ear while you cuddle on the couch, reading, your back against his arm, legs stretched out in front of you. You’d like to crawl into his lap, wrap his arms around you, breathe against his neck, but you settle for this because it’s a little more manageable.

“Odd? Me?” He curls his arm around your chest, rests a hand gently on your throat. There’s no pressure, it’s just a soft claim, but it makes your heart beat fast.

“Yes, baby. You’ve been quiet. You haven’t flipped a page in a while. Is something on your mind?”

“Not really,” you murmur, and he taps a few fingers against the side of your neck.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” It’s soft, not a line your daddy expects parroted back to him, but a question Aaron feels the need to ask. You bring a hand up to rest on his arm, something of a hug.

“I’m just thinking. Enjoying sitting here with you.” You tip your head back to look at him, and he leans down to kiss your mouth, slowly, deeply, squeezing your throat just a little. It makes you feel warm and fuzzy, cared for, and a little turned on. “Are you enjoying me?”

“I always enjoy you,” he says quietly, brings his other hand to your cheek to cradle your face. “Just making sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you whisper, looking up at him, into his deep, curious eyes—he seems to know there’s something more, but he also seems to know now’s not the time. “Do you want to go to bed?”

He nods, and you both get up, tidy up the living room, turn off the lights. When you climb into bed, you just kiss, for what feels like hours, curled up around him, skin on skin. Your next case takes you to Portland, where you are tasked with building a profile for a serial arsonist. It’s not going well.

“We’ve been over this,” Derek says, running a hand over his head. “The motives for arson are simple: vandalism, crime concealment, political statement, profit, and revenge.” You stand in front of a whiteboard with your arms crossed; the words he just said are already scrawled across it in your handwriting, in green dry erase marker.

“Well we’re missing something, so let’s go over it again. There have been no signatures, no hits on social media, nothing sent to the news outlets, so we’re not thinking ‘political statement.’” You draw a line through the words.

“No connection between the buildings, so we’ve all but removed ‘revenge’ from the list,” Emily adds, and you draw a line through that one too.

“Second building had no insurance, was taken over by the city—no one profited from that,” Penelope adds from the speakerphone. You strike it out, sigh.

“That leaves vandalism and crime concealment.”

“Nothing was found at any of the scenes to indicate crime concealment, but it is possible,” Derek reminds you; that one stays on the board. Emily taps her pen against her notepad, looks up at you with a cocked brow and points to the board.

“We’re forgetting one. Hero syndrome: when a firefighter or other first responder sets the fires with the intent of returning to help put them out.” You quickly scribble it on the board.

“So we know that in most instances, those who engage in acts of arson due to hero syndrome have had some type of failed attempt at heroism in the past, be it a botched detective exam, dishonorable military discharge…”

“What about someone who failed out of the arson investigator program?” Penelope asks, keys clacking in the background. “I have an Alexander Carter who works for the Portland Fire Department who has failed out of the program—wow, a whopping six times.”

“Could be he’s trying to prove what an asset he’d be,” Emily proposes, and you turn to jot it down, then freeze.

“Did you say Carter? Alex Carter,” you repeat, and she hums.

“Yes, Alexander Carter, age 30, 5’11”, 200 lbs, brown hair, brown eyes.” You cross the room in a hurry, search your jacket pockets for your cell phone, and Derek stands almost immediately.

“What is it?” he asks, and Emily and Penelope echo his question.

“Hotch and Spencer are with Alex Carter right now. They’re checking out the last scene, the one where the fire went out on its own and didn’t spread. The one that failed.” You look up at him, hold your phone up to your ear, dialing Aaron. It rings and then goes to voicemail three times before going straight to voicemail the fourth. Derek tries Spencer, but his goes to voicemail right away. “We have to go there. Fuck. Garcia, what’s the address again?”

The three of you rush out of the conference room, passing JJ, who gets a brief rundown from Emily and offers to stay back to keep an ear out in case they call. You, Emily, and Derek strap on your vests, and Derek drives—Speed Racer may be useful right now, but your hands are trembling. You sit on them so no one sees.

The building is up in flames when you arrive, and there are firefighters on scene as well as police, EMS… and the coroner.

“Where are they?” you all but scream at the detective. He stands, hands on his hips, shakes his head, and your throat goes dry. “God damn it. Say something. Where are our men?”

“Where do you think they are?” He gestures to the smoldering storefront, and you take a calm, measured breath and step away from him; nothing you say will do you any good, only serve to get you in trouble, and it’s not his fault anyway, not really. You try the fire chief, hope you don’t sound like you’re pleading when you ask him for news.

“My people are working hard to put the fire out; we don’t know the extent of it. We can’t say for sure,” he says, and it’s kind, but firm. Not a guarantee. Derek finds you, puts a hand on your arm, and you look up at him like he’s going to have the answers to this. Someone has to, right?

“We just have to wait,” he says, soothing, and even though you know he’s just trying to help, you could punch him in the face; it’s an unfamiliar feeling, not something you’ve ever felt when faced with Derek Morgan. You shake your head.

“Wait? Wait for what, for—for them to be pulled out in body bags? I can’t wait, I won’t wait. I’ve waited long enough as it is,” you mutter under your breath, turning away. You stare at the flaming storefront, trying to formulate a plan that doesn’t end with Derek tackling you before you can get close enough to call for them, but you can’t come up with anything, and it’s not necessary anyway: less than ninety seconds later, Aaron and Spencer come around from the back of the building, looking a little worse for wear, but not as bad as Alex Carter, who is badly burned on the left side of his face.

You are so relieved you could pass out, and it’s an honest to goodness miracle that you don’t. They get Carter to the ambulance, where the EMTs begin to treat him, and then they walk toward you.

You can’t help it, your feet move without you, bridging the distance, and you crash into Aaron, nearly knocking him over; you cling to his shirt and inhale the scent of smoke and cologne, listen to his heartbeat, think the words you’ve been so afraid to say out loud.

He holds you tightly, one hand on the back of your neck, murmurs words in your ear that you can’t make out; when Derek and Emily come over, you snap out of it, grab Spencer by the shoulder and pull him in too, and the five of you form a group hug and you are not the only one to cry.

You go back to the hotel so everyone can shower, wash away the soot; you would have preferred being able to shower with Aaron, to move your hands over his body and see for yourself that he is unharmed, to wash the stale scent of smoke from his hair, but that’s just not possible. You settle for a text that tells you he’s okay, he’s just tired and ready to go home with you—home, which is apparently wherever you are, whichever apartment you are making noise in, taking up space in, wherever you are leaving half empty cups of tea.

You’ve never wanted to kiss him so badly in your life, but the flight from Portland to Virginia is five hours long and almost torture. He sits next to you on the plane, which doesn’t usually happen, and he does paperwork, brushes his free hand against yours occasionally. You drift in and out of consciousness, so tired from the emotions of the day, and before you know it Aaron is smoothing his hand over your head to wake you up.

He drives you to his apartment, stopping only to pick up takeout from your favorite Indian place—the bags are abandoned on the kitchen counter, though, because the moment you are behind closed doors, everything changes.

You kiss him like it will be the last time—and maybe it will be, considering what you plan to say—your hands in his hair, breath on his lips, the taste of him on your tongue. This could be like Spencer all over again; you hadn’t realized then just how not on the same page the two of you had been, not even on the same chapter, maybe in a whole different book, so what makes this any different? What you have come to realize is love could just be comfortable, guaranteed sex to Aaron, and if he turns you down too, you’ll probably give up on all of it.

You move to the bedroom with the practiced motions of a couple who has walked this walk many times before, but this time it feels different. It feels like matching energies, like emotions that have been tamped down and are now allowed to be fully expressed, fully exposed.

Aaron gets you out of your clothes first, with sure, gentle hands, and then you strip him slowly, look him over the way you wish you could have earlier. You touch his arms, his chest, his stomach, then bend to run your hands over his legs, his feet.

“You’re whole. You’re here,” you murmur when you stand, and he takes your face in his hands, presses his lips to yours again and again.

“I told you I wouldn’t leave you; I meant it.” You wet your lips, look up at him, exhale softly. After a sentence like that, what the hell are you waiting for?

“I love you.” His eyes search your face, and you release one soft sob before he pushes you back onto the bed, covers you with his body, kisses you deeply, wet and passionate.

“I love you—fuck, I love you,” he breathes, his hands in your hair, on your face, and then he reaches down to grab your wrists and hold them above your head. You gasp, shudder, spread your legs for him, and he weaves a hand between your bodies, roughly rubs your clit. “Going to fuck you so good. So good.”

He stares down at you, wrists clasped in one hand, the other working to bring you close, or off, you’re not sure; you ache to touch him, but since you can’t you just breathe a little harder, hitch your knees up higher, give yourself to him.

“Please, daddy,” you sigh, and he knows what you want, guides his cock inside you and then slams it all the way in, so deep that you’re overcome by the feeling of fullness and your eyes water. It’s not pain, or even really pleasure, though it does feel good, but more like… completeness. Like you were made for each other in all the ways that count.

He thrusts into you hard, his knees digging into the bed, and you take kisses when he offers them, moan when he doesn’t, struggle against his grip on your wrists just to feel him tighten it. He pounds his hips roughly against you, uses his free hand to squeeze your ass, then your breast, and then finally, eventually, your throat.

He hovers over you, panting, staring down like he’s viewing a masterpiece and not looking at your sweaty, overheated face. “Can I have you? All of you?” He glides the hand from your throat down to your chest, rests it just over your heart, and you nod, surge up to meet him for a kiss.

“All of me—all of me.” He releases your arms, plants his hands against the bed and fucks you hard, and you slide your hands up his back, pull him down so he’s fully on top of you, heavy and solid and strong. “Take me, Aaron, I’m yours. Take me.” You lift your legs, knees almost up to his armpits, and he holds your hips, kisses you deeply, messy, pumps inside and then comes murmuring your name into your hair. You clutch him, buck desperately against him, mouth at his shoulder, and he shushes you softly, brushes his palm over your hot cheek.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he says with a kiss, and then he slides an arm around your lower back, tilts your hips up, grinds inside until you come digging your fingertips into his sides.

He rests your body against the bed, drapes himself over you, moves his mouth slowly up and down the side of your throat; you wrap your arms around his shoulders, and he presses a hand to the back of your neck, holds you close to him. After a few minutes, he speaks, low, into your ear.

“So this is why you’ve been so…”

“Odd?” you say with a smile, and he tilts his head so he can see you, smiles too, kisses you on the lips.

“Yes. Odd. Because you love me?” You shift slightly, pull back so you can see him better, card your fingers through his hair.

“Not because I love you, because I was afraid to tell you I love you.” He makes a face like that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard, and you brush your thumb over the ridge of his ear. “I’m not sure if you remember this,” you begin, softly sarcastic, “but I recently told Spencer that I loved him, and it didn’t go over very well. I was scared that could happen with you, too. It was easier to just enjoy what we had.”

He looks over your features, sighs lightly.

“Do you remember the night you stayed late at the office to help me with the records retention? We ordered pizza and you raided Rossi’s office for liquor.”

“Yes, and it was very expensive Scotch and it went very well with my veggie pizza. You smiled more that night than I’d ever seen,” you say, almost dreamily; you’re such a goner for him, now—it’s like letting yourself tell him was the last straw, and now the floodgates are open and your affection pours out of you, thick and sweet and sappy. You press a palm to his cheek, and he covers it with his hand.

“That was the night I realized I was in love with you.” You look up, think back, try to place that night on the calendar.

“That was six months ago. Right?” He nods, slow and steady.

“Yes, six months ago. Two months after that, I… miscalculated. I got it in my head that you and Reid were in a relationship. I tried to pull back, give you space, but you never seemed to want that, so I selfishly continued to spend time with you.” You curl around him, press close for several soft, slow kisses, lightly tug at his hair.

“Well, that explains why you were so confused when I told you what happened with Spencer. Why you thought you couldn’t talk to me. Silly.”

“I just wanted to do the right thing. You were happy, and I thought it was because of him.” That makes you frown, and you think of what happened that night after Spencer’s, how you came here, broken down about being rejected by another man, and Aaron, who was in love with you, was so kind and gracious and sweet, put your pieces back together. You don’t deserve him, or any of it.

“I was happy. I’m happier now,” you whisper, because any louder and you wouldn’t be able to get the words out over the lump in your throat. “And I am so in love with you.”

“I’m happier now, too,” he says, hovering over your lips, “and so in love with you.” Saturday morning is for sleeping in as long as your bodies will allow—that only ends up being 8:30, but it still feels indulgent—and puttering around Aaron’s apartment, stealing kisses because you can’t so much as brush past him without his arms winding around your waist, without wanting to push your hands up the back of his shirt and hug him.

You both get a text at noon, from Penelope, stating under no uncertain terms that the team will be meeting at a bar you frequent, at 9 PM, and that everyone is expected to attend—significant others are not only welcomed, but encouraged.

“So. If you’re alright with it,” Aaron says when he’s driving to your place—he’s dressed and ready, looks handsome in a navy shirt with his sleeves rolled up, top button undone, but you didn’t have anything appropriate to wear, so you’re heading home to change your clothes. “This could be an easy way to tell the team we’re in a relationship.”

You don’t think it will be particularly easy, especially not for you, because you’ll be hounded for information all night, but the timing is convenient, and you just love to hear him say that you’re in a relationship, so you agree. You change, head to the bar, and when you meet up, Penelope and Emily are already there.

“Hey, guys,” you say as you hug Emily, and then Penelope. “Just the two of you so far?”

“Just us single ladies,” Emily says with a sip of her drink. “You didn’t bring the boyfriend? I thought we were finally going to meet the man who’s been putting a smile on your face,” she says with a grin of her own, and you shrug your shoulders, wrap your arm around Aaron’s.

“Actually, I did.” They both look at you, at Aaron, between you, then at each other, and then they aww in unison. You turn to him, smile, and he offers to go for drinks, excuses himself with a soft look and a brush of his hand.

“Holy shit,” Penelope says, and you can’t help the smile that takes over your face.

“Yeah, I know.” Well, that was a wild ride! Thanks again @ssamorganhotchner for the prompt—I know I changed a lot of it, omitted some things, but this is what happened when my fingers hit the keys! 🤣 Taglist 🤍: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream @unicornprancing @uchihasteph @mugi-chwan95 @madamsnape921

[foli-vora]

more than words, pt.4

A/N: Hello, angels! I hope you’re all safe and healthy! Next instalment is here, and I’m very excited for what’s coming. I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you enjoy, too! Love to you all! (I hope I haven’t forgotten to tag anyone but if I did, I’m really sorry!)

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x f!reader, best friend!Benny Miller x f!reader

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF, swearing, brief alcohol mention, bit of spice (reminder: this fic is 18+), Frankie being the tease he is

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.5 / pt.6

+

Your lips were still tingling when you woke the next morning, eyes fluttering open and a smile creeping onto your face as the events from last night replay through your mind for the millionth time. Frankie had been on your mind the entire drive home, the tenderness of his first kiss kicking your heart into double time, and the pure unrestrained passion of the kiss that followed hitting a far lot lower.

Was it possible for a first date to go as well as it did? There wasn’t a single moment in your time spent with Frankie that had you unsure about his character or intentions.

Benny had actually done it. He had found you a guy you really liked. Is Hell freezing over?

You reach for your phone as you slip from bed, stretching leisurely as you make your way to the kitchen, and finding Benny’s contact before pressing ‘call’. It takes a few rings, until his drawl finally greets you through the phone.

“Did you puke?” is his immediate answer and you roll your eyes, tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder as you putter around your kitchen putting some breakfast together.

“No, you asshole.”

He laughs. “He’s that whipped, he’d probably thank you.”

What? What does that mean? Has Frankie spoken to Benny? Did he talk about last night? What did he say? Did he think it went as well as you did? Shit. Calm down. You try to steady your suddenly quickening pulse, a pleasant flutter consuming your stomach as you attempt to sound casual.

“Oh? Has he said something?”

Benny’s voice is sly, teasing – he knows you far too well. “Maybe.”

“What do you mean ‘maybe’?”

“Maybe I’m sitting next to him right now. And maybe he’s sitting here blushin’ like a little –” Benny grunts suddenly, seemingly in pain, and the phone crackles as he shifts on the other end, “don’t fuckin’ kick me. Anyway, Fish wants to know what you’re wearing.”

You hear him then, raspy voice piping up in the background with an aghast ‘What?! No–’ and then there’s more scuffling, more grunts of pain, and Benny’s snort of laughter.

“What are you even doing up?” Benny redirects his attention to you after a few minutes of bickering with Frankie, words muffled as he talks around whatever food he has rolling around his mouth. He had noted the early time when your face had flashed over his screen, wondering what could’ve possibly gotten you up and out of bed so early on a day off.

You shrug lightly, even though he couldn’t see it, and prepare your pancake batter. “Just couldn’t sleep in.”

He’s quiet, chewing thoughtfully and then asking softly, “You okay?”

“Yeah – I’m fine, just bored sitting at home. For some reason, I wanted to see what you were up to and if you wanted to hang out, but you’re busy so never mind.”

Benny laughs, “Aw, you missin’ me, angel?” he teases.

“Ugh, I take it back. I’d rather sit here in silence and stare at my wall.”

You can hear him laughing even as you pull your phone away and press the red button, shaking your head and smiling to yourself.

-

A week passes by before you even know it, work taking over much of your week, and much to your delight, Frankie had eagerly organised another night to meet up. You had talked all week of course – a phone call every evening once Mena had been put down for the night, texts here and there throughout the day, and when he had asked if you were free at all over the weekend, you had agreed without a second thought.

Eagerness buzzes through your system the entire day of the date and the drive to the restaurant, a much welcome change from the anxiety riddled one before. It was a breath of fresh air.

Frankie was waiting for you, as he said he would, leaning against the wall of the restaurant and a smile immediately widening his features when his eyes find you.

This time there was no hesitation, no voice in the back of your mind wondering how to tackle the situation. As soon as you saw him – you couldn’t help yourself – you were in his arms and giving him a soft kiss in greeting. Pleasantly surprised, he smiles against your lips, arms winding around your waist, and the electric tingles that rocket up from your palm when his rough hand gently takes yours has your heart going wild in your chest.

It’s dinner instead of drinks this time, and the two of you squeeze yourselves into one side of the leather booths, instead of sitting opposite each other. You order quickly, and sip at your beer while you listen to Frankie talk about his week, the conversation soon moving in all sorts of directions as you wait for your food.

“How could you not?” You cry at one point, slapping a hand on the table and watching his shoulders shake as he laughs, stomach twisting at the pleasant sound of it.  “The universe is huge – like, huge. We are not alone.” You say ominously, and he laughs harder, head hitting the back of the booth.

“Where’s the proof?”

“What?”

“The proof! If it’s so big and we’re not the only ones here, where is everyone?”

“It’s a cover up.” You sniff indifferently, sipping your drink and fighting the twitches threatening to turn your pursed lips into a smile. “Oh my god, you were in the military – are you in on it?”

He’s struggling to breathe, cheeks aching under the grin stretching his features and stomach starting to cramp. “In on what?”

“That’s it! You’re part of the cover up!”

“Yeah, you’ve got me. I was actually a part of a crew chasing away UFO’s.”

No longer able to keep it in, you erupt into a fit of violent giggles, melting over the table top and letting the laughter shake your frame. Frankie watches you fondly, affection flooding his system and causing his insides to warm pleasantly.

He was still trying to work out how he was here, with a beautiful woman, having great conversations, fun conversations, and laughing more than he had in… shit… a long time. It was refreshing and, if he were completely honest with himself, slightly nerve-wracking. Nothing ever stays so perfect, and that thought had him ensuring he was enjoying every second he could with you before you inevitably realised you were incredibly out of his league and went looking elsewhere.

But… how could you ever? When you peak up at him, you can’t help but study the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way his dimples deepen in his cheek, and you honestly couldn’t imagine anywhere else in the world you’d rather be. It was… scary. You’d only known him a couple of weeks, and you were feeling like this?

The night melts away before you both even know it happens and soon, you’re snatching up the bill before he can move, and walking out onto the street, Frankie’s arm slung around your shoulders and keeping you pressed close up to his side as a sharp late evening breeze sweeps through you both.

“You’re not serious.”

“I am.”

“Chickens?”

“I’m sorry, but have you ever been chased by a rooster? Those things are fucking vicious, Frankie.”

He grins, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay, well what about you?”

“Heights.”

What?

You frown, “But you’re a pilot?”

“I can handle heights if I can control the situation. Flying is easy – I know what to do when I need to do it. It’s when something’s out of my control – falling off a cliff and shit. It’s just… a long way down.” He’s quiet, obviously dwelling on something before he’s shaking his head and smiling, “Do you have a favourite book?”

The short walk to your car takes longer with the leisurely pace you both had unconsciously set, wanting to milk the remaining minutes of the date as much as you could before having to part ways.

“Thank you for dinner.” He spins you into his arms and you laugh quietly, smiling.

“You’re welcome.”

Silence falls over you both as you regard the other.

Frankie… your voice is so quiet, the soft whisper of it dances in his ears, igniting a fire through his veins. He unconsciously presses himself closer, lost in the way your lashes flutter when you look at him. You raise a hand, fingers trailing softly against his jaw and he turns his face into your touch, chasing the feeling of your warm fingertips as they glide up and around his neck.

“Kiss me?”

He smiles, enjoying the way your face scrunches slightly as he nuzzles his nose against yours, “Say please,” he mutters playfully, grin widening when you breathe a quiet giggle.

“Please kiss me, Francisco.”

Oh shit.

You don’t miss the way his face slackens for a brief moment, eyes widening and breath seemingly getting caught in his throat. He swallows, the flicker of a flame that had been burning lowly in his stomach suddenly blazes red hot and then he’s moving, hands cupping your cheeks and claiming your mouth with an intensity that had your knees buckling the second his lips touched yours.

You melt instantly, unable to stop the small whimper that bubbles from your mouth as his tongue traces teasingly along your lip. You open your mouth automatically, tongue immediately sliding greedily along his. His mouth was hot, rough against yours, and the grunt he lets out when your fingers dig into the dark curls at the nape of his neck has a delicious heat shooting to your core, your hips rolling against his.

Fuck. Did you just grind on him?

The sudden stab of panic at potentially going too far is quickly extinguished when his hands fly to your hips, pulling you impossibly closer and keeping you tight up against him while his fingers dig hungrily into your flesh.

The sudden blaring of a car alarm has you both jumping apart and a mile high, Frankie’s hands tightening on you instinctively, and it’s not until you look around that you discover it’s your car making that God awful noise that is ripping your ear drums apart.

“Shit,” you fumble for your keys, quickly pressing the button while Frankie chuckles into the skin of your throat, hands softly rubbing up and down along your waist to calm you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault.” He grins, not at all remorseful for causing such a big disturbance. “It was probably for the best – any longer and we might’ve been arrested for indecent exposure.” The words are growled playfully against your skin, but you can’t help thinking he wasn’t far from the truth. You laugh, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso and placing a final kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Drive safe,” you say as he begins to pull back, and he smiles warmly at you.

“You too.”

You slip into your car, watch him disappear down the street and sigh dreamily, body working on auto-pilot for the drive home while your head remains firmly in the clouds. You could only hope you had actually somewhat paid attention to the road and didn’t miss any stop signs or red lights.

Your phone goes off in your hand when you eventually walk through the door to your apartment, and you read the text as you shrug off your jacket. Your eyes have to read it back and forth a few times before the words actually sink in, and then you’re holding it to your chest, delicately cradling the device while you rest heavily on your door, heat flushing along your cheeks.

I’ve thought about whether or not I should say this the entire drive home, but fuck it... miss you already.

Well, fuck.

-

Delivering a sharp little karate chop to the remaining flat cushion on your couch to fluff it, you place it with the others and then neaten the edges of the blanket hanging over the back, casting one final glance around your apartment and trying to imagine seeing it through a visitor’s eyes.

Clean.

Really clean.

Frankie was picking you up for a ‘mystery date’, which meant – naturally – you had spent the entire day scrubbing every surface in your apartment until it looked like you semi-had your life together. Did you inhale more bleach than what is probably considered healthy? Most definitely. Do you regret it? No. Will your apartment ever be this clean again? Also probably a no.

Checking the time, you’re startled to see how long you had spent fluffing fucking pillows and chant curses as you run to your room, kicking the clothes you rip off under your bed to deal with later and quickly pulling on the outfit it had definitely not taken you two hours to decide on. Your eyes dart to the alarm clock next to your bed when a knock on the door echoes throughout your small home.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, he’s on time –

God, why can’t he just show up half an hour late like the others? You immediately regret giving him the code to your building… that could’ve bought you an extra few minutes.

Stupid perfect face with his stupid perfect punctuality –

You open the door with a grin, hoping your forehead doesn’t look as sweaty as it feels, face softening when you find Frankie standing on the other side with a little potted houseplant cradled in his palms. He sees your eyes fall to it curiously and holds it out to you, your fingers brushing his when you carefully take it from his hands.

“You said flowers make you sad when they die, so…” he shrugs lightly, a gentle smile curling his lips.

Oh.

Emotion claws at your throat as your fingers trace the patterned leaves softly. Not only had he paid attention and actually listened to you during your many conversations, he had gone out of his way to find you a gift you could nurture, one that wouldn’t inevitably end up in the trash after a week or two of blossoming.

You swallow the sudden lump in your throat, clearing your throat quietly before glancing up at him, shy and overwhelmed by the wave of adoration that inundates you.

“Thank you, Frankie. I love it.”

And he knows you really do. He can hear it in your voice, sees the gratitude shining in your eyes. He follows you as you turn back into your apartment, eyes following you fondly as you walk around, eyeing potential places to situate your new addition.

“I think he looks good there.” You say, turning to confirm his approval over your shoulder after you situate it in the middle of your small dining table. He smiles, nodding his support and watching you turn back to look at the plant, taking his own little minute to admire you and the way you look bathed in the bright afternoon sun shining through your windows.

Fuck. He was captivated, completely infatuated by someone he had only known, what – three weeks? He should be nervous, should be alarmed that such strong feelings had developed so quickly, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than joy – hope. Maybe this could be it, you and him. Endgame.

Fuck. Don’t get ahead of yourself.

His arms open automatically when you saunter up to him, enveloping you into a warm embrace while you press an appreciative kiss to his cheek.

“So, this mystery date,” you say, pulling back to gaze up at him while your hands wrap loosely around his neck, “will I need a jacket?”

“Yes,” he nods, grinning when your brows pinch in contemplation. “You’ll never guess so don’t hurt you head trying.” Lips press against your forehead and you press back into the soft touch, heart jumping at the tender gesture.

-

“Minigolf?” You question, looking up at the colourful entrance.

“Is that okay? If not, we can go somewhere else –”

He’s nervous – you can hear it in his voice.

Easing his anxiety, you shake your head and grin, “It’s perfect.”

You watch him relax, a pleased smile curling his lips, and then your hand is in his as he leads you through the gate and to the reception area to pay. The both of you meander outside once collecting your clubs and balls, and you feel childishly giddy at all the bright colours and fun obstacles set throughout, bouncing slightly in excitement as you walk to the first hole.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” He asks around a grin, head tilting as he watches you set up and take your position.

“This isn’t my first time,” you hum, shifting on your feet and lining up your shot. Swinging the golf club gently, you watch the neon orange ball bounce along the walls and finish up teeteringly on the edge of the cup before falling in with a satisfying clunk.

“Oh, by the way,” you spin, smirking, “I kick ass at minigolf.”

“Good,” he returns your smirk, gently nudging you out the way, “I don’t have to take it easy on you, then.”

What had started out as fun, quickly becomes competitive, and with competition comes foul play. Frankie had pinched your sides when you went to hit your ball, your body jolting with a yelp of surprise as he exploited your ticklish spots. In return, you knocked his golf club when he swung, and giggled wildly when he immediately turned on you, wrapping you in a tight hold and raining scratchy kisses along your throat in punishment.

The afternoon melts into evening with mix of steady conversation, laughter and hidden kisses behind obstacles – Frankie stealing the breath right from your lungs when he crowds you against the side of the colourfully decorated windmill and claims your mouth, the crowds of other couples and families wandering around the course oblivious to the two of you hidden in the shadows.

If he was trying to work you up, it was working. He had to know what he was doing to you, had to know how all-consuming his presence was when he swept you up into kiss after kiss. You were so wrapped up in the touches he would caress you with, so focused on the feel of his moustache as it tickled the skin above your lip, that you were completely unaware you were losing… until you peaked at the card Frankie kept sticking out of his back pocket (totally not because you were checking out his ass) and the wave of vicious competitiveness shadows the overwhelming desire to jump him right in the middle of the course on the artificial turf.

Payback.

The next course, you took your short as normal, squirming as you feel Frankie come to stand right behind you. Focus –

Breathe, he’s not there. Breathe, he’s not there. Breathe –

Goosebumps rise along your arms in waves, the skin on the back of your neck prickling as he ghosts his curved nose down the column of your throat, your head tilting ever so slightly to allow him more access.

Fuck. No, breathe –

You swing the club, satisfaction rolling through you when the ball ends up in the cup perfectly in one shot. He’s slightly shocked, incredibly impressed, and presses a soft kiss of praise just below your ear. You watch as he takes your place, dropping his ball on the ground and readying his posture.

God, you need to stop looking at him like that.

The golf club feels loose in his grip, palms clammy from the fiery gaze locked onto the back of his neck as he hunches over for his turn. He feels a presence behind him but doesn’t pay any mind to it, and instead pays all of his attention to lining up the ball, mentally calculating what sort of angle he’d need to get it through the tunnel and around the winding corners to the cup a short dip below.

The cool puff of air suddenly blowing past and tickling his ear makes him fumble, the ball missing the tunnel and bouncing off of the sides and rolling back to his feet. He sighs, eyeing you over his shoulder with a playful frown as you blink innocently back at him.

He lines up again, tensing when warm hands work their way under his jacket, resting softly on his hips. He could feel the heat of your palms through his t-shirt and clears his throat, shifting on his feet and trying to focus back on the ball. You nuzzle your nose into his neck, teeth nipping lightly at his skin when he swings the golf club softly. Another miss. Frankie watches the ball return again, stopping at his feet with a light knock to his shoe.

“Yeah, that’s right, Morales – I’m onto you.” Your soft voice rings in his ear and he grins, knocking the ball into position with his club. “You may play dirty… but I do, too – try again.”

The words settle hotly in his stomach.

“You think you can win?”

“I know I can.” You all but purr into his ear.

He blocks you out then, focusing everything he has on getting that stupid fucking pink ball through the tunnel. He’s got it this time. This time –

Fingers dive under his shirt and his stomach jumps as they trace along his hot skin, slowly following along the waistband of his jeans teasingly. Fire shoots through his veins, muscles clenching under the feather light touches, your nails softly dragging along his skin.

Fucking Christ –

“Are you just going to stand here all day, Francisco?” You question slyly, voice soft and mocking. At your teasing, both verbal and physical, he hits the ball a little harder than intended and it bounces off the turf entirely and into the bushes lining the course.

You’re smug as you watch it disappear into the shrubs, “I’d say that’s forfeit.”

You go to step away when he starts to turn, but a hand grabs your wrist and keeps you flush against him, your insides somersaulting as his dark eyes burn through you.

“You’re trouble.” He accuses gruffly, heart still hammering in his chest while his skin burns from the ghost of your touches.

“You love it.”

He does.

Fuck, he does. Too much.

“Come on, loser,” you murmur, lips leaving a whisper of a kiss against his. “I’m hungry.” And with that, you turn, winking cheekily at him from over your shoulder, and he watches you walk away with a dumbfounded expression before he follows along behind you, jeans feeling a little tighter than what they did before.

-

The tension is stifling in the truck on the drive home. You feel your heart beating in your ears, the anticipation bubbling in your chest growing with every mile Frankie travels closer to your apartment. You were aching. Physically in fucking pain, and rubbing your thighs together was doing nothing to soothe the insistent throbbing from your core.

All that playful teasing, the touches and the rough kisses during the day, had caught up, and it was destroying you.

Frankie had briefly mentioned Mena staying with his parents for the night, and it had kickstarted your thoughts into overdrive. Was that a hint? Was he giving you a green light to potentially take this further? Was he saying he would be open to staying over? Was he asking to?

You were worried you were thinking on it too much, maybe getting the wrong idea and he was just expressing how nice it would be to have a night all to himself, but then his hand landed on your thigh and squeezed, and any inklings of doubt all but vanished.

He watches you from the corner of his eye, trying to focus on the road and not the way you keep shifting in your seat. He feels every time you squeeze your thighs together, feels the muscles move under his hand, and he physically has to stop himself from making a noise every time you do. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to him?

Your building comes into view and then he’s pulling up outside, removing his hand from your thigh and throwing the truck into park, letting it idle while you study the structure and get your thoughts together. Swallowing the sudden spike of nerves that settle in your stomach, you look to Frankie and find him already watching you quietly.

For a moment, you say nothing, and he doesn’t bother filling the silence. He lets you have all the time you need while you decide on your next move. Not that you need much time – you know exactly what you want.

“Do you want to come up?” You ask quietly, watching his eyes darken as they flicker to your building before returning to you. You watch his Adams apple bob as he swallows, and then he’s nodding, turning the keys in the ignition and the truck cuts out beneath you.

+

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed @emilykjh @peterhollandkait @sara-alonso @starlightsearches @bookishofalder @empress-palpat1ne @shadowolf993 @rosiefridayrogersunday @canyonmirrors @eoz-stuff @blackonemasie​ @layniapetrovnaaa​ @alberta-sunrise​ @betterthanbucky​ @linkpk88​ @afootnoteinyourhappiness​ @livilottie​ @hailmaryyramliah​ @kesskirata​ @blueeyesatnight​ @a-perfct-stranger​

[marvelhero-fics]

Snowman

Series - Chapter One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re a HYDRA assassin that’s worked closely with the Winter Soldier, to each of your dismay you’re reunited with Bucky after the blip. 

A/N: I haven’t posted in like 300 years, but I hope you guys enjoy this new series! This follows parts of TFATWS so expect spoilers! (Also I’m sure all the Russian is absolutely wrong, if you’d like to correct it please send me a message!)

Word Count: 1,815 (future chapters will be wayyy longer)

Snowman Masterlist || Full Masterlist

New York

2023

“So tell me about this-” the therapist looked down at her notes briefly, “(Y/N).” She finished.

Bucky paused momentarily, “No.”

“James, for these therapy sessions to be effective, you need to open up to me. I can’t help you if I don't know what’s wrong.” His therapist responded, laying her pen carefully on her small notebook.

Bucky thought for a moment, taking in the ambience of the room. What would he even say about (Y/N)? He hadn’t seen her in years. Bucky was kicking himself for accidentally bringing her up in his session last week. “I- uh-” he stammered, shifting his weight on the couch, “I met her in 2011. At least I think it was 2011. Date’s get kinda fuzzy sometimes, with all the cryo.” Bucky’s hand pressed against his head, feeling dazed as he tried to think back. “It was at the big HYDRA base outside of Moscow. We had to go on a mission together-” he was cut off,

“Did she work for HYDRA?” Dr Raynor interjected.

“Yea. She was an assassin too. She went by the alias the Viper.” Bucky pretended not to notice his therapist tense up. Anyone who knew anything about HYDRA knew who the Viper was. She was one of the most prolific assassins after the Winter Soldier.

“Tell me more about when you met her.”

“We were instructed to take out a terrorist organisation forming against SHIELD. Which was ironic because we were working for a terrorist organisation. But at this point SHIELD was being run by HYDRA and they couldn’t risk any slip ups, so they put 6 assassins on the job. HYDRA usually didn’t have their assassins working together, we were all too volatile. But we had to take out over 70 people in one night. It was (Y/N), a few assassins from the Red Room, and a few agents that HYDRA had trained personally, and me.” Bucky stopped.

“Where was (Y/N) trained?”

“At a secondary facility run by HYDRA. She was trained from a really young age. It’s all she’s known.” Bucky seemed somber. But his therapist continued,

“What happened on the mission?”

“Nothing. It went exactly to plan. The targets were taken out and we all left without a trace. But (Y/N), she- she kept trying to talk to me, or get to know me. I was the Winter Soldier. No one in their right mind ever tried to ‘get to know me’.”

“Why do you think (Y/N) did that?”

“She told me she was bored.” He replied bluntly.

Moscow

2011

The poorly lit conference room was filled with a myriad of assassins and officials. The only illumination came from old LED lights hanging from the concrete ceiling. The mossy green paint on the walls looked as if it hadn’t been patched up in years. The only new-ish part of the room was the large, oak conference table, surrounded by black, leather seating. It was difficult not to notice the red HYDRA symbol holding a spot on almost every piece of clothing in the area.

“TITAN terroristicheskaya organizatsiya, formiruyushchayasya protiv nas. (TITAN is a terrorist organisation forming against us.)” Kuznetsov spoke, “Izbrannyye budut otpravleny segodnya vecherom v Ukrainu dlya vypolneniya postavlennoy zadachi. Uberi ikh. (The chosen ones will be sent to Ukraine tonight to complete their given tasks. Take them out.)”

That was all it took. You stared at the file in front of you. You had read through it multiple times, going over every single name, every single skill set your targets had. You were more than certain you could complete this job on your own. But you had no choice on the matter.

Your eyes darted around, taking in the faces of the assassins that were to accompany you on your mission. Two youthful females, dressed in black leather sat next to each other. The older, grimacing woman behind them was Madame B., the head supervisor of the Red Room. You moved your gaze to the two agents in dark green uniforms and red, soviet berets. Neither looked particularly menacing.

You finally landed on the last assassin. His dark hair fell like curtains around his face. Gloomy blue eyes searched their way through the room. His sharp jaw seemed tense through his stubbled cheeks. He was large, extremely built. Covering his frame was an amplitude of black clothing and gear.

“Play nice.” Your mentor spoke softly over your shoulder, breaking you from your train of thought.  

“I always do.”

~

Your padded snow boots ripped through the thick snow covering the ground. The six of you had hiked your way to the set point on your GPS systems, the clouds of snowfall covering your vision held the illusion that there were absolutely no structures nearby. A large helicopter had dropped the group a few miles out from the hideout to ensure nothing was compromised. The trek was in utter silence, fighting against the harsh temperature in mid February.

The waypoint became closer on your map, a tiny building slowly appeared in your vision against the foggy downfall. It was a small, wooden cabin. Everyone hustled their way through the unlocked door. It was barren, it held no furniture, no blankets, no means of any life. There appeared to be a few doors that led to small, empty rooms. The entrance only held a small fireplace, filled with old cut down logs that had been eaten by bugs.

The group quickly dispersed, you headed to one of the rooms alone, throwing down your belongings onto the floor. The bag you carried was mainly filled with weapons and ammunition, along with a very warm sleeping bag. You knew too well you wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, but you would need the extra heat for now.

There was no chatter anywhere in the house. Your mission would begin in 6 hours. Everyone was likely putting together their artillery. You decided to cozy up in your navy sleeping bag for a moment of comfort.

Someone had lit the fire in the lounge. A warm, orange light crept through the cracks in your door. The ambiance was strangely calming for a shitty cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Snow continued to fall against the tiny glass pane of your room. You weren’t a fan of assassinating in the snow. It was low vision, harsher climates, and it lessened the ability to move. Snakes weren’t creatures of the cold. Conveniently you’d been grouped with someone who called himself ‘The Winter Soldier’. I’m sure he loves the cold, you thought.

You’d heard a lot about him. Everyone had. He was the perfect assassin. He never failed a mission, his body didn’t reject cryo, every form of enhancement HYDRA had used on him had been a success. He was what every assassin had aspired to be.

Without thought, you grabbed the glass bottle laying next to you and walked off to the room the Winter Soldier had claimed for the night.

“Privet (Hello)”. You announced, pushing his door open with a creak. His head didn’t turn towards you. He sat on the floor, the sound coming from him indicated he was sharpening knives.

“Khochesh' vypit'? (Want a drink?)” You asked, motioning the bottle towards him.

He stayed silent for a moment. Finally he turned, looking up at you from his position on the floor. “What is it?” His dark tone asked back. The amber light from the fire crashed against his features. His strong jaw was covered with a dark stubble, his brunette hair tucked behind his ears. His most obvious feature was the hauntingly blue eyes that sat in sunken sockets, he looked drained.

“It’s vodka.” You stated, honestly. You were surprised to hear he wasn’t Russian, he sounded… American?

“You’re drinking before a mission?” He queried.

You shrugged. “Alcohol doesn’t freeze.” You sat down next to him. “Plus it takes the edge off.” A faint clinking noise announced as you placed the bottle on the floor between you two. He stared at you for a moment, before quietly going back to his knives.

“Wanna play 20 questions?” You interrupted the silence.

“No.”

“What about truth or dare?”

“I’m not 14.” the soldier replied, his eyes not leaving his handy work.

“How old are you?” You shot back,

“Why are you trying to get to know me?” He dodged your question.

“I’m bored.” You shrugged, taking a deep swig of the vodka. “And by my calculations,” you peered down at your watch, “we still have 3 hours and 27 minutes until the mission starts.”

He gave a shallow sigh, “93.”

“What?”

“I’m 93. How old are you.”

“93?! You were born in 1917?”

“Mhm. How old are you.”

“25. You look great for 93.” You chuckled.

“You look old for 25.” He jabbed back. His knife sharpener still grinding across a 6 inch blade.

“You flatter me.” You replied sarcastically. “So what’s your story? How’d you make it to 93?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Why would I ask if I didn’t want to know?”

Bucky looked over at you. “I’m telling you, you don’t want to know.”

“C’mon old man,  I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” You smirked. He once again, went back to his knives. It almost seemed as if he was trying to threaten you, pulling out larger knife after larger knife.

You huffed, opening your mouth to speak, “I was born in Hungary to a drug abusing mother, and an absent father. I was kidnapped and sold to HYDRA when I was 6. I was placed under the care of the Kraken. Not sure if you’ve met him, he’s this large guy-”

“I’ve met him.” Bucky stated, interrupting your spiel.

“Right, well, he trained me for years. Eventually HYDRA got involved again and I was tested on, experimented on, messed with, ya’ know, all that fun stuff.” You explained.

“Are you enhanced?” Bucky asked, almost as if he was actually interested.

“Yea. I have this whole snake venom trick. It’s great for up close combat. The experiments really should’ve killed me though. But maybe that’s what makes us so good-” Bucky looked over at the woman next to him, her bright eyes stared back at him as she spoke “ya’ know, the best assassins are the ones living off borrowed time. Because we’ve met death before, so we’re not afraid to do it again.”

Bucky quickly grabbed the Barrett M82 rifle next to him, his metal arm making faint whirring noises. “I’m going to scope out the base.” He stated bluntly. And with that, his large black boots walked him out the bedroom, and out the door.

You let out a faint sigh, creeping back to your room to sort out your weapons. You were sure it was something you said that scared him off. I guess at 93 you have to be living off too much borrowed time, you speculated. You absentmindedly set up your pistols, your mind not being able to wander from the Winter Soldier. Maybe annoying the Red Room girls would get your mind off it.