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junkissed · 2 months

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bad neighbor

member — neighbor!dino x f reader genre — smut, college au word count— 6.3k synopsis — pros of living next door to a frat house: your neighbor is really really hot. cons of living next door to a frat house: probably everything else. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, fingering, lots of making out, facial (cum on face), semi public sex (hooking up at a party) content warnings — slightly introverted!reader, chan is in college but reader isn't: can be interpreted as older!reader but that's up to you tbh, mentions of weed & alcohol (chan & reader are both sober), cameos from cheol & hoshi hehe notes — thanks again to @onlymingyus for helping me get my brain in order <3 please reblog or send an ask if you enjoyed reading!! it means a lot to me and it helps me continue writing :) i hope you like this fic!

it's still early in the evening when the music starts.

the sound of voices and cars honking outside your house draws your attention away from the latest episode of your favorite new show. you get up and walk over to the window, peeking out through the curtain at the bright headlights beaming at you.

with a sigh you push the curtain closed again, heading into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. if tonight is like any of the other nights, then it'll be a long time before you fall asleep. hopefully the chamomile will help—is what you tell yourself every time. and every time, it doesn't help.

living in the same neighborhood as the frat houses from the nearby state university was certainly a choice, but the rent in the area was the cheapest in town and you didn't have many options left. with the fall semester coming up fast, every other apartment complex and condo in the city was already rented out. after moving in, you'd quickly discovered why the rent was so cheap: not because the house was in bad condition or because the location was inconvenient, but because of the parties. nearly every fucking night.

you might actually be impressed at how these college kids find the energy to party so often, if you weren’t so fed up with them. every friday and saturday night, and even sometimes during the week, at least one house on your block was throwing some kind of wild party.

by now you'd seen it all: drunk girls throwing up on your lawn, shirtless guys doing keg stands in the middle of the cul-de-sac, people making out literally everywhere. and yes, including that one time on halloween when you found two playboy bunnies having sex with spider-man in your backyard. how they got back there was anybody's guess, but from then on you’d started double and triple checking that your back gate was locked every night.

tonight, it seemed that the festivities were being hosted at the house across the street. and the man behind it all? none other than lee chan, president of the fraternity and owner of the house.

you'd only officially met him twice, once on the day you'd moved in and once the day after. his red honda had pulled into his driveway at the same time you were unloading your boxes from the u-haul, and he'd jumped out and offered to help carry your furniture inside.

at the time it had felt like this was finally your meet-cute moment, the friendly and unfairly attractive boy-next-door that sweeps you off your feet with love at first sight. but once the final box had been moved, he'd simply given you a smile and a wave and went back inside his house. no cute bonding, no exchanging phone numbers, no asking to see each other again. he just left.

of course, that had been before you found out about the parties, and the shock you were in for that same night when people had started showing up in droves had nearly led you to call the cops. so the next morning you'd put on a nice outfit and went to knock on his door, and it was then that you found out more about the neighborhood you'd found yourself living in.

with the same polite tone he'd used yesterday, he'd been friendly and apologetic for the noise, promising that he'd make sure everyone stayed on his side of the lawn and that no one disturbed you or your house. he'd explained that it wasn't a quiet neighborhood, no matter the time of year, but repeated that if anything happened he would take full responsibility for it. he said that you were welcome to come over any time, whether you needed something or you just wanted in on the fun.

you'd taken his word for it, sheepishly waving goodbye as you crossed the sidewalk between your houses, though you figured you would probably never set foot inside his house while there was a party going on. and as you’d walked away, you had tried to ignore the feeling of your heart fluttering with the beginnings of a crush on your neighbor.

tonight, however, your heart was doing anything but fluttering. music blasted outside, definitely a lot louder than usual, and the sound of car engines revving was already getting on your nerves.

you dunk your tea bag into the boiling water at the same time a loud banging on your door makes you jump, and you narrowly avoid spilling it all over yourself and the counter.

quietly you rush over to the door, looking out the peephole to see a group of people carrying cases of beer, looking around at your front porch.

before you can figure out how to react, you hear someone yell something distantly and the group turns around in the direction of the sound.

"shit, wrong house," one of the guys says loudly. "sorry, whoever lives here! have a good night!" he calls as they walk away, the others laughing over a joke you can't hear.

with the crisis averted, you head back into the kitchen and pull the tea bag out of your mug, chucking it into the trash with a huff. full responsibility, your ass.

and then… you have an idea.

chan had been so insistent that you could come over if you ever needed anything, so you might as well take advantage of his offer. because tonight you did, in fact, need something. you needed the party to not be so goddamn loud that you can literally feel your living room floor vibrating beneath your feet.

you stick your mug in the microwave to reheat later and quickly change out of your pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. presentable enough that you don’t embarrass yourself, yet comfortable enough that you don’t feel so awkward.

with a deep breath, you pull open your front door, keys tightly in hand as you lock it behind you and start making your way across the street.

you're almost at chan’s front door when a man steps in front of you out of nowhere, stopping you short. "hey, here for the party?" he asks, holding up his hand for a high-five.

"um… kinda," you say, lightly tapping his hand. you figure he must be the bouncer of some sort, from his friendly yet confident no-nonsense attitude and the way his thick biceps strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt. "i'm looking for lee chan, he owns the house?"

"gotcha," he nods. "gotta check your age before i let you in, though."

you pause, his words sinking in as you realize why he's asking. "oh, sorry, i didn't think i'd need my id," you apologize. "but i live next door, my driver's license is just in my wallet, i can go grab—"

"are you over 21?" he interrupts, and you frown at the question.

"uh, yes?"

"cool. head on in, then," he says.

you look at him suspiciously. "you're sure you don't need to see my id? what if i was lying?"

"dino will probably be downstairs, his room is the door at the end of the hallway on the left," he says, pointedly ignoring your questions. "and while you're down there, tell him cheol sent you. ask him to grab another beer for me."

he waves towards the open front door, and hesitantly you make your way inside. you have no idea who the hell dino is, and you can only hope it's just a nickname of some kind and the man you're about to go find isn't some stranger.

the second you set foot inside the doorway, it's like entering a completely different world. the air is stale and humid, clinging to your skin as you push through a crowd of what must be hundreds of people packed like sardines into every corner of the room.

the music gets louder the further inside the house you go, and you have to focus on repeating cheol's instructions in your head so you don’t get lost in the maze of hallways and doors. downstairs, end of the hallway, left.

you soon find out where the music is coming from. unlike the normal house lights on the first floor, downstairs everything is dark except for colorful flashing led lights around the room. a man stands on top of a table between two huge speakers as people crowd around him, jumping and shouting lyrics to the song that’s playing.

there’s so many people that you have to push your way through the crowd, but most of the people around you either don’t notice or are too drunk to care. but finally, you make it to what looks like the hallway that the man outside—what was his name, cheol?—told you about.

you open the first door on your left and find four people sat quietly on the floor passing around a bong, a thick cloud of smoke hanging over the room. all four of them look over at you at the same time, glazed eyes silently asking who the hell are you?.

"sorry, wrong room," you squeak, slamming the door and retreating back into the hallway as you try your best not to step on anyone's feet.

with a deep breath you crack open the door directly beside the one you'd just opened and poke your head inside, and relief washes over you when you see chan inside.

he's sitting on a couch with a couple girls sitting next to him and a guy slumped against his shoulder, eyes closed and brows furrowed.

he looks up when the door opens, and a look of shock spreads over his face when he recognizes you. he calls your name and you step inside tentatively, saying his name in response. "chan?"

"close the door behind you," he says, and you jump to turn around and shut it with a click. he must notice you standing like a deer in headlights, because he motions you closer to him with a friendly smile. "sorry," he explains. "people will think it's an open room if you leave the door open. i don't want anybody in here without a reason to be."

you nod, but your eyes dart over at the girls sitting beside chan. he makes eye contact with them and clears his throat, and without a word they stand up, understanding the message.

he helps the man laying against him sit up, then helps him stand up and hands him off to the others. "don't let hoshi drink anything else tonight except water, okay? keep an eye on him until your driver shows up."

they nod and slip their arms around their friend, helping him stumble out of the room as he grumbles about something incoherent. "thanks, dino," one of them says with a little wave. "see you monday for that bio test."

the girls open and shut the door quickly, suddenly leaving you alone with him in the room.

"hi," you start, not knowing what else to say. it's been such an ordeal just trying to find him that you've almost forgotten why you came searching for him in the first place.

"hi," he repeats with a laugh. "honestly, i never thought i'd see you here. you don't seem like the type. so, what brings you over tonight?"

"you've only met me twice, how would you know what i seem like?" you reply defensively, thought he's spot on. this is not your usual scene at all, and you’re sure that anyone at this party who’s even a smidge sober must be able to tell how out of place you look.

he shrugs, patting the couch seat next to him. "alright, fair point. come sit down."

you carefully take a seat, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the collection of ambiguous stains on the couch cushions.

"oh, before i forget. somebody named cheol told me to tell you he wants a beer?" you say awkwardly, relaying the message.

"bastard," chan mutters, but he's smiling, and you assume the guy you met earlier is a friend of his. "fine, i'll grab him something when i go back outside." pausing, he turns his attention back to you. "but really, why are you here? i don't wanna make any assumptions, but i doubt it's for the free alcohol."

"if i was, you'd have to tell me where to find it," you say with a shrug, and he laughs but stays quiet for you to finish.

you fold your hands together nervously. "anyway, i just came over to ask—could you maybe turn the music down, like, just a tiny bit? and also… can you tell people to stop having sex in my yard?"

he winces and gives an apologetic smile. "yeah, of course. sorry about that. i told vernon to keep it down, but you know how he gets when he's…" he stops as if he’s just realized something. "nevermind. i'll go let him know right now. do you wanna come with, or you wanna stay here?"

"no offense, but i'd rather not go back out there," you laugh awkwardly. “it was bad enough just trying to find you in the first place.”

"all good," he replies with that friendly smile of his. "it's not for everyone, that's for sure. just make sure the door stays closed, and you'll be fine in here by yourself. shouldn't take too long."

he opens the door and slips out, slamming it closed behind him. you sit unmoving on the couch, finally glancing at your surroundings.

unlike the first room, the air here is fairly clean, other than the faint smell of alcohol and weed wafting in from under the door. you realize this must be chan's actual bedroom, when you see the posters that cover the walls and the bookshelf full of knick-knacks and textbooks.

you start to wonder who else lives in this house, but soon the door opens again and chan returns, the sound of voices and music flooding in while the door is open but quickly falling quieter once the door is shut again.

"alright, he'll keep it down. i'm sorry about the noise," he apologizes again, but you wave him off, suddenly feeling shy around him. with him still standing and you still sitting, he towers over you in a way that makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter back to life.

"no, it's fine. really, it's not that big of a deal," you rush, trying to ignore the growing feeling in your chest. was he always this hot? for the first time tonight you notice how his blonde hair falls in waves around his face, perfectly framing his soft features.

he shakes his head. "really, i mean it. vernon will make sure it doesn't get out of hand, he’s good at that. i can't exactly give you a quiet evening, but i can give you the best i've got."

you take a deep breath and stand up. you're already way outside of your comfort zone even just coming to this party, but maybe this experience hasn't been all that bad. after all, you got to see chan again, and you got to exchange more than a handful of words with him like you did all the other times you’d met him.

"well… what is the best you've got?" you ask him, and you almost see him raise an eyebrow.

he puts his hands in his back pockets, pausing for a second as he looks at you. "mm, best i've got? probably this room. my room. quietest in the house, and nobody will come in to bother us."

your heart races as you take a small step towards him, standing close to him but still keeping some distance between you.

"so does this mean you're not leaving?" he asks when you don’t say anything, just barely loud enough for you to hear him.

"do you want me to stay?"

he takes a step closer to you. "only if you stay with me."

"do you say that to all the people you bring in here?" your question is joking, but a part of you still worries that he thinks you're just another girl at the party looking for a one night stand. though honestly, you wouldn't even really mind if that's all this was. hell, maybe all the secondhand smoke is getting to your head and clouding your judgement, because hooking up with your neighbor seems like a pretty fantastic idea right now.

"the only time i let people in my room is to let them use my bathroom and to make sure they don't die of alcohol poisoning," he says in a low tone, a little laugh escaping him. "and now, i guess i let my hot neighbor in here, too."

"you think i'm hot?" you ask, taking another small step forward.

he matches your stride, taking one last step towards you so that you're finally standing toe to toe with him. "i'd be an idiot not to."

"but how would you know, if we've only met twice?"

he laughs. "well, you had just moved in. i wasn't gonna hit on you when you hadn't even finished unpacking your furniture yet."

"so you did want to hit on me, then," you say confidently, straightening up a little.

“did i ever say i didn't?” he rests his hands on your hips and gently pulls you towards him, closing the last of the distance between you. his eyes never leave your face, gauging your reaction and looking for any hesitation.

you wrap your arms around him and lean forward, a smile on your lips. "good to know."

he leans in the rest of the way and presses his mouth against yours, and everything else just falls into place. your hands reach up to find his hair, threading your fingers through his blond waves and tugging experimentally, and when he lets out a little noise of pleasure you kiss him harder.

the noise of the party fades into the background as his hands slide down your body to grip your ass, and you can’t help the little moan that escapes as he starts to back you up against the wall. his hands stay put, kneading your ass as you try to keep your legs from giving out already. it’s painfully obvious how bad you want him, but it’s equally obvious how he feels the same way.

“fuck, been dreaming about this since the day you moved in,” chan says, pulling away from you with a shaky breath as your fingers tug at the hem of his t-shirt.

he pulls it off over his head before leaning over to kiss you again, his tongue tracing over your lips. he’s good at this; not like you’re surprised by it or anything, but it still catches you off guard.

he seems to be able to sense the tiny bit of lingering hesitancy, so he breaks apart from you but still keeps his arms firmly around you, loosening his grip just a little. “is this okay?” he asks in a low voice, but you can hear the concern laced in it.

you nod quickly, tugging your shirt off quickly and letting his hands settle at your hips before you pull him back closer. you never do this. maybe you really had inhaled too much secondhand smoke on the way in and you aren’t thinking straight. but deep down, you know that’s not the case.

as much as you hate to admit it, your harmless crush on your neighbor has grown into something much, much more. you can’t say you’ve never been a little jealous when you see girls leaving his house on sunday mornings after parties. you can’t say you’ve never let your eyes linger a few seconds too long when he goes out to check the mail and he’s wearing that tight black tank and thin silver chain he never takes off.

or the fact that he works out in his garage with the door open, and you aren’t really purposefully trying to look but it’s not your fault that your window just happened to be open. and it wasn’t your fault that you just happened to look outside and see him shirtless and bench lifting a very large amount and if you were really really quiet you could almost hear him groaning—

he slides his hands down your bare skin, hesitating again at the waistband of your jeans, but you arch your back a little to push yourself closer and he takes the hint. he easily undoes the button with one hand, and you try not to think about how many times he must’ve practiced that in order to get that skilled at it. but that thought is quickly pushed out of your mind when his hand makes its way into your pants, his fingers experimentally sliding down past your underwear and brushing through your folds.

you let out a groan, rolling your hips into his hand encouragingly. you’re already hot and sweaty, standing with your back against the door in just your bra and jeans, but it’s hard to tell if the heat is from the crowded, stuffy house or from something else.

“god, you’re so wet,” he murmurs under his breath almost incredulously as he presses his fingertip against your clit, circling the swollen bud before dipping back down to collect your arousal on his fingers.

you squeeze your thighs together out of instinct, trapping his hand between your legs, and he looks up at you for confirmation. “more,” you whimper, just loud enough to be heard over the music and the noise on the other side of the door. “chan, please.”

he groans and puts more pressure on your clit, starting to rub a little faster and a little messier. he slides his middle and index fingers inside and you let out an involuntary yelp, clenching and bucking your hips in search of more friction. he starts out slow, curling his fingers in a beckoning motion as his other hand massages the bare skin of your waist.

after more of your pleading he finally concedes, sliding his fingers out and wiping them on his stomach, leaving a glistening trail of wetness on his tan skin. he glances back up at you in questioning, but he finds no hesitation in your expression as his hands start to push your pants down your legs and you kick them away, leaving you bare in front of him.

“you sure you're ready?” he pauses to ask one more time, but your quick nod has him jumping back into action in seconds.

he follows hurriedly, stripping out of his pants and shoving his boxers down to free his cock. his length springs up and slaps against his stomach, the tip looking flushed and heavy, and your mind goes blank, replaced only with the thought of him inside you. he holds himself in one hand, lining his cock up at your entrance as you adjust your position in preparation.

you groan as he finally ushes into you, your fingernails digging into the back of his shoulder blades as you struggle to balance.

“feels good?” he mumbles as he lifts your thigh, wrapping your leg securely around his hip. he doesn't move yet, his hips still as he lets you move however you need.

you barely manage to nod in return, keeping your hands firmly planted on his shoulders, slowly but surely adjusting to his size. “god, yes,” you manage, trying to keep your breathing steady. “if i'd have known you felt this good i would've come over way sooner.”

“mm, well. you're welcome over here any time.” he grins at you. his dark eyes get hazier with desire as he holds you firmly against his pelvis. “for any reason you'd like.”

the best response you can come up with is “sure”, barely listening as you start to roll your hips, but you can tell the sincerity in his statement. your attempt at movement doesn't work very well in this position, but chan quickly takes the hint, pulling back and letting his cock slip halfway out before he drives back into you.

the first thrust has you seeing stars already, and you let out a broken moan as he starts to build up his pace. your back slides against the wall as you feel the bass reverberating through your bones, and it only enhances the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls.

“if there weren’t so many people in this house, i’d have you screaming my name right now,” chan huffs against your lips, pulling your body closer and wrapping his arms around you tighter.

“mm, but the music is so loud they probably wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway,” you bite back with a brazen smile. you're feeling bold, the party atmosphere filling you with a cockiness that you don't usually possess. but something about the environment, the fact that you're fucking the hottest person here while hundreds of people rave obliviously outside the door, is a thrill you've never felt before.

he rolls his head back with a groan, and you feel his thrusts suddenly getting harder and deeper. you have to fight to stay standing, using all your energy to keep yourself upright and leaning most of your weight on him, but if he notices it he doesn't let it show. all those push-ups and bench presses that you ogle him doing in his garage must be good for something, from the way he hoists you against the wall and drives his cock into you without even barely breaking a sweat.

“say it, then,” he goads, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh as he holds your leg up. “you want to, don't you? you wouldn't have come over here tonight if you didn't.”

the worst part is that you know he's right. your own curiosity is what brought you here tonight, masked by the claims of noise complaints. the noise isn't even really that much of a bother: you could've gone to bed, turned on your fan and played some white noise, and you would've been perfectly fine. but some part of you longs to know what goes on at these parties, to see your devastatingly sexy neighbor in this setting you've never witnessed him in yet. so now that your curiosity has been satisfied, you really have nothing to lose.

“chan! fuck— mmph, yes—” you whine loudly, unintentionally clenching around him as the words fall from your lips. there's no way anyone would hear over the music, and even if they did, there's a high chance they wouldn't care either way. it's just what happens at parties.

his eyes light up at the sound, a moan of his own leaving his mouth as he thrusts into you over and over again, burying his cock as deep as he can go with every stroke. a familiar heat burns in the pit of your stomach at his movements, winding tighter and tighter with each passing second. your walls throb around his length, filling every inch of you until you can't take it anymore.

“chan…” you groan again, pulling him towards you with your leg around his waist. “please, keep going… c-close, i'm close—”

he leans in and presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth. “god, please cum for me,” he says breathlessly, pulling away but leaving just enough room for your lips to stay connected by a thin string of spit. “need to feel it, need to feel you. please, baby, fuck…”

he slams into you even harder, driving his cock right up into the spot that makes your knees nearly buckle. you manage to whimper out his name one last time before your lips go slack against his mouth, your eyes squeezing shut as you crash into your climax. the force of his steady, constant thrusts combined with the force of your orgasm leaves your body tingling, every nerve alight from the waves of pleasure pulsing through you.

his movements don't ever slow, but you can see the emotion twisting in his face in reaction as he watches you cum, squeezing around him so warm and wet and perfect that it takes every ounce of his self control not to immediately follow you over the edge.

his eyes bore into yours, watching your face until he's sure you've recovered enough to handle him. he pulls out and keeps his hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock, jerking himself with tiny flicks of his wrist to keep the momentum going.

immediately you drop to your knees in front of him, tilting your head back to stare up at him between his thighs, your eyes wordlessly pleading with him as your tongue nearly rolls out of your mouth.

“fuck, you're so…,” he groans, keeping his fist tight around his cock with a few final motions. “you're so fucking hot, god, i'm gonna—”

he whines and his hips buck as he spills across your face, thick white ropes landing on your tongue and your cheeks. your smaller hand reaches up to replace his and you take him into your mouth, gagging only slightly as the salty taste fills your mouth. you wrap your lips around him and swallow, letting your tongue swirl around his sensitive head to collect it all until he's finished.

he pulls back and his cock slips from your mouth, leaving you gasping and licking your lips to catch the stray drops of his cum. his voice is low and strained as he reaches out his hand to help you up, his thick biceps flexing as he pulls you to your feet. despite the blissed-out look on his face you can see the guilt in eyes and it makes you pause, wondering if he didn't enjoy it the same way you just did. but it's only another moment before he speaks again, and your short-lived worries are put to rest.

“i'm sorry it was so fast,” he says almost shyly, pulling you over to sit at the edge of his bed. “i can go again if you aren't done yet. or we can do something else… or i could walk you back home. whatever you want, i'm happy to do.”

you expression softens into a grin, still a little hazy but definitely not finished. “oh, i can go again, for sure. i've got all night if you'll let me.”

his eyes crinkle with an eager smile, and you're already spreading your legs to give him space as he falls down onto the bed between them, landing on top of you. his hand cups your chin ans he pulls you into him, his lips finding yours and melting into you with a satisfied hum. his tongue finds its place once again in your mouth, prodding inside as he kisses you with a level of passion and desperation you haven't felt in a long time.

he groans into the kiss as he tastes himself on your lips, exploring your mouth and the bitter taste he left inside. you feel the vibrations from it in your jaw and down your neck, and it only makes you kiss him harder in an effort to draw out more of those pretty sounds.

"hey, dino, didn't you say you'd bring me a beer? it's so boring standing out there—"

the door opens and you jerk away with a scream, hiding yourself under chan and using the nearest piece of clothing to cover up as someone barges into the room.

"cheol, get the fuck out!" chan shouts, wrapping his arm around you and keeping you pressed tightly against his chest, using his back to shield you from view. "fucking knock next time, dude, you know better!"

"jeez! how should i have known? i thought you said you didn't hook up at parties," cheol mutters as he turns around, slamming the door shut behind him. "i'll get the damn beer myself."

the door slams shut once again, and chan sighs and hangs his head, his forehead leaning against your chest before he reluctantly crawls off of you and crosses the room to lock the door.

“you don’t hook up at parties, huh?”

he turns around to look at you, and you pause to take him in. his hair is messier than it was when you got here, glued to his forehead with sweat and sticking up at odd angles from you tugging on it. his broad chest is tinged red with tiny scratches from your nails, and it makes you want to bite him all over, but you contain yourself for now.

your voice is teasing, but cheol’s words have honestly made you feel a million times lighter. you hadn’t expected to be anything special to chan after tonight; at the very least, you hoped that it wouldn’t be awkward when you see each other, but you’d figured you were just the next in a long line of girls waiting to have their turn with him. for once, you’d never been so happy to be proven wrong.

“i’ll make an exception for the pretty neighbor girl. just this once.”

“oh, so now i'm just pretty. i thought i remembered you saying that i was the hot neighbor girl,” you giggle, watching as he hops on one leg to put his boxers back on.

“two things can be true at once,” he says with a grin as he walks back over to you still lying on his bed. “besides, i still haven't taken you out on a date yet. would be kinda forward of me to call you hot when i haven't even bought you dinner yet.”

you smile at him, trying to fight the warmth burning in your cheeks as you reach up to ruffle your fingers through his soft hair. he lets out a satisfied groan at the feeling, and it gives you an idea.

“do…” you trail off, suddenly unsure, until you see the warmth in chan’s eyes as he lays on top of you and it fills you with confidence again. “do you wanna continue this at my house? i’ve got the quietest room, and nobody will bother us.”

“mm.” he grins at the way you repeat his words from earlier, enamored with your shy yet playful tone. “if we’re at your place, does that mean i get to give you the noise complaint this time?”

“i’ll allow it.” you roll your eyes and pull yourself to sit up. “i need a shower, and i’m sure you would like one, too. plus i have food that hasn't been spilled on the floor or soaked in alcohol.”

he picks your shirt up off the floor and hands it to you with a smile, moving around his room with a quiet confidence you find unbearably hot. “does this mean anything to you, or is this just a tonight thing?” he asks.

you bite at your lip as you shimmy back into your jeans, shaky fingers sliding the button into place as you sit back down on the bed. “it does,” you reply simply. “you did tell me you'd buy me dinner, after all. i'm gonna hold you to that.”

he leans over you, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips. “and i plan on keeping that promise.”

you stumble your way through the house, squeezing chan’s hand tightly as he pulls you up the stairs, following him towards the door. you're not worried about anyone noticing you anymore: everyone's too wrapped up in their own business to care, including you. the party seems dulled now, the music fading and the people around you becoming blank faces. all you care about is chan, your eyes roving over his broad back muscles that peek through his shirt as you trail behind him. you must look no different than every other drunk college kid here with the giddy smile on your face, but you haven't had a drop of alcohol. it's just the effect he had on you.

finally you make it outside, and the cool night air feels sharp compared to the humidity inside the house. already it seems quieter as you start to walk the distance across the street, moving away from the party and towards the comfort of your own home. chan moves up beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist while you lead the way, but you're stopped once again by the same man from earlier.

“hey,” he greets chan, only sparing half a smirk in your direction but otherwise not bothering you, despite the heat that instantly rises in your cheeks at the fact that you were caught. “did you get my beer?”

“no. you said you were getting it yourself.” he rolls his eyes, and cheol whines and gives him a look that you swear almost looks like a pout. “if anyone asks about me, tell them i'm not home. tell them i had to…” he looks over at you with a cocky grin. “…had to go take care of something. noise complaint.”

cheol groans, making a face. “god, whatever. i don't want the details. but just don't make me stand outside next time. i'm doing you a favor here. i'm supposed to be working on my thesis.”

“sure,” chan replies, but he's still stuck staring at you, barely processing his friend's complaints. “yeah. anyway, i'll catch you tomorrow.”

he tugs gently on your waist and you start walking again, leaving cheol without so much as a goodbye or even a proper introduction. you'll deal with that later, you guess. there’s a lot of things you'll have to deal with, but at least the wild parties your neighbor boyfriend throws won't be one of them anymore.

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ahundredtimesover · 8 months

Text

I Want You to Stay (05) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.8k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: I deeply appreciate all the love and messages (and anticipation for uh, stuff) but again, it's a slow burn! Thank you so much! 🥰

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

Jungkook sits cross-legged on the couch in his office, his iPad in hand as he goes through the Board report for the nth time these past five days.

Manager Lee and Chin-sun have put together the logistics, construction, and design departments’ reports with the VP’s and Jungkook is supposed to sign these off for submission to the CEO today, who then approves it for submission to the Board members. They have until Friday to review it in time for the meeting happening that same day.

This consolidated report was finalized last Wednesday and Jungkook has been reviewing it everyday since then, including his presentation, making minimal comments and then taking notes on things he’s unfamiliar with. Granted, he’s reporting about the quarter when he’s only been Vice President for a month, which makes you incredibly instrumental in his preparations. As the executive assistant, you have the information that Jungkook needs from Hoseok’s time, and so you’ve also been spending everyday since Wednesday answering all of Jungkook’s questions.

You don’t mind, really, as they’re details you know by heart. It also allows you to show him how involved and meticulous you were under Hoseok’s leadership, and Jungkook’s hums and mumbles of appreciation have helped you gain back the confidence that you lost.

Even if your self-esteem decreased this past month because of the very person sitting in front of you, the fact that Jungkook’s been showing - in his own ways - his trust in you is enough to lift your spirits. He did admit last week that he needs you - something you hadn’t expected him to say - and you could tell it took so much from him to be able to verbalize it. But you suppose you needed that honesty, too; you needed to know that after all that frustration and anger during the first few weeks, there was that realization on his end that you have his back, and you’re just as capable as what everyone has been saying you are.

“What information do you need from me, Mr. Jeon?” You finally ask.

It’s been a good five minutes since Jungkook had asked for you and you’ve just been standing in front of him while he scrolls through the screen, perhaps giving another final look before he finally sends the document to his father.

“Nothing,” he sighs, rolling his head back and closing his eyes. “I just… I just need someone to tell me to stop reviewing this report. I need this out of my sight but I can’t stop checking to make sure everything is okay.”

You look at him intently while he speaks. The tension in his entire face and body is visible, you can even feel it in the room. You feel for him, as he tries to hide the anxiety and desperation. You can tell that he just wants to do well so badly. With the amount of time he’s been spending just going through this, his perfectionist tendency surfaces, and you’re at least thankful that it hasn’t turned him back into an asshole. At least not yet.

“You need to stop reviewing the report, Mr. Jeon, and let it go,” you say as instructed but with sincerity in your words. “You’ve been on this for days. Manager Lee and Chin-sun have reviewed it, and so have I. CEO Jeon could still suggest changes and we won’t know them until he’s reviewed it, but we at least have the details ironed out. If I may suggest, you can send the file to him in the next hour so you can now focus on practicing for your presentation. That may be a better use of your time.”

Jungkook opens his eyes and turns to you. There’s assurance in your words and your voice and like what he told himself he’d do, he’ll trust you and the team. He’s seen how hard everyone has been working for this - Manager Lee and Chin-sun have done so well in consolidating and cross-checking everything; Do-hyun’s presentation is simple yet effective, and Yohan, who’s back from the hospital, has been adding in all the needed details. And there’s you, making sure that everything and everyone is on track, even as you prepare for Jungkook’s upcoming events.

“Okay, then,” he exhales deeply. “I’ll send it in the next half hour.”

Knowing he has a meeting set at 2PM, you ask him if you should order him lunch.

“Yes please,” he answers, saying he wants some braised beef from the restaurant on the next block. “Order for yourself as well, and the rest of the team. You can all get anything you want.”

The silence prompts Jungkook to look at you, and he’s met with a questioning gaze.

“Is there a problem?” He asks.

“N—no,” you answer. “I’d like to confirm again that I’ll be ordering lunch for you and all five of us.”

“Yes, Ms. Cho. That’s what I said.”

You remain unmoving as you wait for him to correct himself. This is the first time that Jungkook has offered to treat the team to a meal. Not that you’ve been waiting for it, but Hoseok took you all out to dinner on his first day as a welcome and a thanks in advance, and once you picked up that Jungkook wasn’t the type to engage with his staff much, you just didn’t expect anything. So takeaway lunch from a nice restaurant is definitely surprising.

“Okay, sir,” you say. “I will do that. I’m sure the team will appreciate it.”

Jungkook merely hums, his eyes focused on the screen now as you bow and head out.

You go meet the team and as you expected, everyone looks at you in shock.

“Did the real Mr. Jeon get abducted?” Do-hyun asks. “Because treating us is something he wouldn’t do.”

“Yah! It may be a month late but let’s just be thankful, okay?” You frown at her. “He can see that everyone’s been working hard and I’m sure he appreciates that, and he may not be able to say it but he can at least show us.”

“While he’s at it, he can maybe at least say thank you or you know, smile every once in a while,” Chin-sun sighs.

“We’ll get there. He knows he needs to do better and he will, I’ll make sure of that,” you assure them, thinking about the conversation from last week.

Jungkook wants you to help him and for his sake and everyone else’s, you’ll make sure that you do.

“Well, is he better to you?” Do-hyun asks, her face in a pout because she’s seen you skip meals several times and even cry, and she’d wanted so many times to just hug you, but she knows it’s not something you openly receive.

“Yes,” you say, knowing it will drive your point. “I’d like to think that the worst is over and I can just focus on doing better and helping him. It would be great if the rest of us could do the same.”

“She’s right,” Manager Lee chimes in. “We grow when we adapt, and much more when we’re able to move on and learn from our experiences. It hasn’t been the best month but it’s also just been a month. So let’s be grateful for the meal and just continue with the good work we’ve been doing, okay?”

You give them the warmest smile you can muster, hoping this would be enough.

It seems to be, as they all excitedly give their orders, which you and Yohan pick up from the restaurant. You return and after giving Jungkook his food, you head to the other room to eat as well.

The team enjoys the meal, with Do-hyun dramatically stating that it’s the best beef brisket she’s ever had. And you agree; there’s a reason why Jungkook gets this every week.

Jungkook can hear laughter and satisfied hums from the support team office, with Do-hyun, he supposes, claiming that it feels like Christmas. Yohan says it’s a much-needed post-recovery treat, and even Manager Lee - who’s often serious - cracks a few jokes. Jungkook can pick out your sound, too, noting the joy that emanates from it. He allows himself a small smile, knowing that given how he’s been to everyone this past month, he at least could give his team this highlight of their day.

He stands by the door, initially going unnoticed, until Chin-sun catches sight of him and alerts everyone that he’s there. The room goes silent, and Jungkook looks on as his staff quietly munch their food and bow to him in greeting. The teasing and laughter have gone; worried eyes are what he sees instead.

Your initial surprise at seeing him melts away. He rarely drops by for anything, even for a greeting or to just check up on the team, unlike Hoseok who liked to come here often to de-stress after long meetings. But you sense Jungkook’s awkwardness at the silence, with his hands in his pockets and his blank gaze, so you smile at him and hope that eases the tension a bit.

“Lunch was great, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “Thank you.”

“It was,” Manager Lee pipes in. “The roast pork was so delicious. The potato salad was very good, too.”

You look at the others and encourage them to say something as well, and they hum in agreement and say their thanks.

“The beef brisket was heavenly,” Do-hyun raves. “Thank you! I hope it’s not the last time.”

She awkwardly chuckles, realizing that her boss isn’t one she should be joking with, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to take offense, as he purses his lips - perhaps to hide a smile, revealing a tiny dimple that catches you off guard.

“It won’t be. And uh, it was a month late, so I’m glad you all enjoyed it,” he replies, a tinge of disappointment now painting his face.

There’s another moment of silence and you observe him, hands still in his pockets, looking around awkwardly, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

“It’s greatly appreciated, sir,” you assure him once more. “We hope you had a good lunch as well.”

“I’m just about to have it, actually,” he says. “I sent the report to the CEO and he must’ve been waiting for it because he read it right away and called to give feedback.”

“Oh? How did CEO Jeon find it?” Manager Lee asks.

“He said it was good. There are just minor things he asked me to change but I can do them on my own,” Jungkook answers. “I appreciate everyone’s hard work. Now, we can focus on our upcoming events and the Arts Center.”

The team immediately starts packing and swallowing their food, and Jungkook has to stop them.

“Not right now,” he clarifies. “Continue with your meal. And don’t stay too late. We’ve got another busy week ahead.”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” everyone says in unison.

Jungkook nods and starts walking away, leaving all five of you with confused looks, as Jungkook has never spoken to the team in such a calm and friendly manner. It was always firm and professional, low and stoic.

You scurry out the room and follow him. Jungkook gives you a questioning look when you enter his office shortly after he does, and you pick up his untouched lunch from the table and inform him that you’ll heat it up, knowing he doesn’t like to eat his food cold.

You go back to the pantry then return to Jungkook’s room, his beef brisket dish now properly placed in a bowl. He gives you a nod, his form of acknowledgment and thanks, you suppose, and you ask the question you’ve had since his earlier stop at the team’s office.

“Are the edits really just minor?” You wonder, knowing that CEO Jeon is meticulous and quite particular with these board reports.

Jungkook takes a moment to respond. He should know that you’ve done this a few times and are probably used to how his father is already, which means you’d see right through him as well.

“Well, they’re not major,” Jungkook says. “I mean, they’re not trivial corrections. The details are all good but I need to change some terminologies and framing and some construction of the sections based on the Board’s current concerns, especially about the Arts Center. They’re not that substantial but it’ll still take me an hour or so.”

“Why did you tell the team that they were minor, then?”

“So they won’t offer to help.”

“But they would. I would,” you tell him. “It’s our job.”

“I was going to ask, but it’s your break time. Everyone was enjoying their meals and each other. First time I’ve seen that, actually. I know it doesn’t happen when I’m around.”

“It’s just that you’re not—”

“Hoseok,” he finishes for you.

“Not someone they’re comfortable being themselves around,” you correct him.

“Yes, not like Hoseok,” he pushes.

“You said it the first day, Mr. Jeon. You do things very differently from your cousin. Your personalities are very different, too. We had him for three years and for Yohan and Do-hyun, he was their first boss,” you explain. “They’re just not used to you yet.”

“What about you? Are you used to me by now?”

There’s sudden tension in the room as he looks at you with the desire for honesty, and it’s what you give.

“I’m not quite sure.”

Jungkook doesn’t really know what he expected, as the question just slipped past his mouth before he could pull it back, so he just nods and proceeds to take his late lunch, wanting to forget that he’d asked at all.

You take this as a signal to head out, which you do, before reminding him that he can ask you for help if he needs another pair of eyes before he submits his part again. Jungkook just nods once more, and it’s later in the day, after the third cup of coffee that you take to his room, that he says his father’s already approved the version he sent after you went through it upon his request. You know that’s just half of what he needs to do though, as he’ll still need to present it to the Board this coming Friday.

“You may go home, Ms. Cho,” he says after he signs some documents for you.

“How about you, Mr. Jeon?” You ask.

It’s been a long day, an extension of an even longer weekend because he’d been at a work event and then reviewed the report as well.

“I’ll probably stay back and go over the presentation. Maybe practice a little.”

You purse your lips, holding something back.

“Should I not?” He wonders.

“Just thinking that it might be better for you to take a proper rest tonight,” you advise.

“I’ll think about it. It’s gonna be a tough one on Friday and I want to be prepared.”

“I understand,” you smile. “I’ll go ahead, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook holds your gaze for a while before he nods and returns to his screen, going through the presentation slides and the notes he scribbled on his iPad. But try as he might, the graphs and the words just go over his head.

He does need to rest, he thinks. He hasn’t really taken a break all weekend. His hookup from last night was the only relief he got, but that was to expend all the negative energy from the anxiety and stress, and he realizes that he probably doesn’t know what proper rest is, like what you suggested he have. He wonders if you’ve ever had one, or if it’s something you stopped having ever since you started working for him.

Taking your advice, he heads out. It’s only been 30 minutes and he assumes you’re already on the bus and on the way home. He sits in the passenger seat, letting Mr. Ri’s choice of music fill the car as Jungkook’s mind wanders to you - how you laughed at the team’s antics, how you got them to assure him, how you read him well, how you were patient and helpful, and how you seemed concerned about how tired he’s been.

He’ll chalk it up to you doing your job and helping him as he asked you to do; he always will. He can’t ever think that any of your actions mean more even if deep down, he wishes they do, only so he knows that you don’t hate him, that you’ve forgiven him for things he never apologized for, that you’ll stay for as long as possible. There’s something about your honesty and calm presence that stabilizes him, that makes him take a pause.

Jungkook’s worked hard on his career for the past decade and it’s all he focuses on; it’s all he thinks about. But when you’re there, he’s forced to stop and think about you. He’s noticed that just this past week - when you’re around, he listens; when you’re close to him, he breathes. Ironic, really, considering that every time you close the distance - when you fix his tie or look at his screen over his shoulder or help him retrieve portfolios - he remains still, his heart stopping and his throat drying up, afraid to take in your scent or to know just how fast his pulse would race or what words he’d say that he won’t be able to contain.

He’s afraid to know you, only because what he’ll learn might make him want you. And Jungkook knows that he can’t let himself feel that about you in any way.

He sighs as he looks out the window - cars in line to cross the intersection, people walking to their destination. He thinks he’s hallucinating as he sees your smile, but a bus blocks his view and Mr. Ri steps on the gas.

Outside, you smile to yourself as you wait in line. You were held up at the lobby because Bitna caught you in the elevator and didn’t want to let you go just yet, so you left the office just minutes ago and were waiting at the bus stop when a familiar car showed up and you saw Jungkook looking out the window. He opted to leave early, too; you can only hope he’ll take your advice and rest tonight.

But the thought that what you said prompted him to take a pause from work stirs something within. Maybe it’s because he’s finally listening to you, or that it seems like he trusts you now. Whatever it is, for as long as it makes your job bearable, you’re all for it.

It doesn’t take away from the moments you’ve shared where it seems like the world stops for a bit as you hold each other’s gazes for the shortest of seconds. There’s tension where there shouldn’t be, and there’s something different in his eyes when there used to be disdain, one which you can’t read nor identify. It leaves you still for the briefest of moments, unguarded and a little bare, as he seems to tell you something with just a look and you just don’t know what it is.

As you find a rare seat in the bus, you let the musings go. Jungkook is a man who holds in him a million thoughts a day and those moments with you seem to be his only reprieve; perhaps they’re also just instances of temporary lags or the rare silence and stoppage of everything. In some odd way, it allows you to see him as the human that he is - exhausted, unsure at times, but seemingly yearning for something.

There’s always an emotion or a thought or a word that he holds in, and you can only wish - as your relationship with him improves - that whatever it is he’s holding back, he’ll find a way to express it.

“Do you have any advice for the Board meeting?”

Jungkook slides the question in before Hoseok heads to the elevator and off to an event. They’ve just finished having a check-in with CEO Jeon, who wanted to make sure that the two of them are well-prepared for this Friday, given that presenting during these meetings and contributing to policy and strategy are crucial in their roles as President and Vice President. Jungkook won’t admit that it caused him a bit of anxiety, but he’ll surely take the chance to ask his cousin for tips on how to make sure that he doesn’t screw up.

“I do,” Hoseok answers as he holds off on pressing the button. “Ask your assistant. And then listen to what she says.”

Jungkook visibly sighs. “Hoseok, I mean it.”

“I mean it, too,” the older man replies. “If it’s anything about our strategic plan or policies, just take my lead. And it’s your very first so you’re expected to still be adjusting. If it’s about the presentation, let ___ brief you about it. She’s been with me every single time I had to present. When I was focused on what I had to say, she was focused on how the Board was reacting and how those translated to the questions they eventually asked. She’d know what you’ll need to emphasize on or who you need to be wary of.”

There’s an unsure look in Jungkook’s eyes, and Hoseok knows it isn’t about trusting you. It’s about him.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” Hoseok asks. “What are you afraid of, Kook?”

“You know what they think of me,” Jungkook sighs. “I don’t want to screw up and give them more reasons to doubt me because they already do. And they’re definitely gonna ask about the Arts Center. What if they bring up my disappointing social skills? I don’t wanna end up feeling inadequate and embarrassing father.”

“Keep thinking that way and you will,” Hoseok huffs. “Look. Our family owns the company. You and I were trained to run it after my sister and your brother decided they didn’t want to. The Board knows this. They’ll either stay in our good graces or plot against us. Your father knows that, too, and that’s why he’s being hard on both of us because he knows what we’ll have to face. That also just means he’ll always be on your side. He’ll always be on ours. The Board could be intimidating but we still hold the power. They’ll impose or question or cast doubt because they want to feel that sense of control. It’ll only affect you if you let them.”

“Okay” is all that Jungkook manages to say, a tinge of resignation on his face as he takes in his cousin’s words.

“You’ve managed worse people than them,” Hoseok assured him. “Just focus, stand by your project, and engage them. Simple as that.”

“Yes, it’s very simple,” Jungkook chuckles with a shake of his head.

“Like I said, your assistant’s there for a reason, Kook. This is when I get to tell you that it’s her job. We would prepare together and debrief right after, and it always helped because she fills in gaps and informs me of things I missed. Trust me. Trust her.”

The thing is, Jungkook does; he doesn’t need to be reminded that he should trust you because he’s learned to do that, despite it seemingly impossible given that you both started off on the wrong foot. It’s the thought of spending more time with you, during a time when he’s still trying to get used to you and how you affect him, that makes him worried about this. But it’s not something he can talk about with Hoseok. It’s not something he can talk about with anyone.

“Fine,” Jungkook finally says. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Good. I’ll go now. Have dinner at home tomorrow, okay? And I’ll see you when I get back.”

Jungkook waves the older man goodbye and then returns to his office, where he finds you dropping some files off for signing.

“Payment requests for the event,” you explain, earning you a nod from him as he walks to his seat. “How did the meeting with your father go, Mr. Jeon?”

“As I expected,” he huffs. “A bit of encouragement, more of the pressure. He’d slide in reminders of what the Board thinks of me and how I should present myself.”

“Is the pressure helping?” You ask.

“A little,” he sighs, sinking into his chair and exhaling deeply. He rolls his head back and closes his eyes, allowing himself a few seconds of peace. “But I still need help. Hoseok said I can get it from you.”

“You know, he oversells me sometimes,” you manage to laugh, prompting Jungkook to look at you now. “I know I’m competent. But I don’t know about being your source of help for a Board meeting any more than providing you with data.” Jungkook likes to do things on his own after all, you think to yourself.

“But you’ve been to as many Board meetings as he has.”

“Yes, but only for his presentation.”

“And that’s what I need help with,” he says. “I just need direction, I guess. Or affirmation that how I’m doing it is the right way. Or tips on who to woo or who to not take seriously.”

Jungkook has been to a few Board meetings but he’s never had to present anything. He’s also never had to engage with the members so he didn’t pay much attention to them because he didn’t feel the need to. These appointments were all a few years too early, and while he’d had a critical position in the Southeast Asian headquarters, everything had gone through his uncle who headed the office then.

This is the first time that Jungkook feels the magnitude of all his decisions, and that every move he makes is being assessed. And even with his father and Hoseok giving him guidance, they have their own teams to manage and an entire company to run, just like him. Somehow, with all the people around him, Jungkook still feels alone.

You, with your perpetual presence and surprising warmth, are the only one who makes him feel otherwise. And it terrifies him more than anything.

“Well, I’ve picked up a few things along the way,” you hum. “I can maybe go through my notes and share them with you.”

“Good. I’d like to do that over lunch, since I’ll have you and Manager Lee watch me practice the presentation around 2.”

Jungkook picks up the slight fall of your face. “Is that a problem?” He asks. “Did you have lunch plans?”

“Nothing more important than assisting you, Mr. Jeon,” you say, a change of expression indicating that you indeed had prior commitments that you’re putting off because of him. “I’ll inform Manager Lee about meeting with him after.”

You head out and return to your desk to work on your remaining tasks for the morning until lunch time rolls by and you accompany Jungkook to a nearby restaurant as he’d asked. You try not to get too excited about the meal in front of you and then control yourself from letting out orgasmic sounds from the succulent piece of salmon that’s melting in your mouth. This check-in seems too important for Jungkook and you want to support him in any way you can.

“How was Hoseok during his first Board meeting?” Jungkook starts.

“Nervous, a little rattled. His sister left him behind with a lot of work and she was abroad for most of the time so they weren’t able to meet up,” you share. “But he got up there and presented all the office’s gains for the past months and then explained his plans moving forward. He had all these good ideas on policy and strategy and he articulated them well. He had to take over multiple small projects and he showed how he planned to manage all of them. His charms sort of hid away the anxiety he was feeling and I guess that eventually helped him get rid of it.”

“Well, that’s one thing I can’t claim that I have,” Jungkook sighs.

He looks at you to see your reaction, and the awkwardness on your face makes him internally laugh.

“I can lie to you if you want me to,” you say, and he chuckles, surprising you both, though he acts like he doesn’t mind.

“I’d actually want you to be as honest with me as possible, Ms. Cho. I don’t want you, of all people, to suck up to me to get on my good graces.”

“Great, since I wasn’t on it in the first place,” you trail, earning you another laugh, and you wish this could at least lessen the pressure he’s putting himself under.

“That’s true,” he says, holding your gaze. He turns to his food before he gets sucked in your gorgeous eyes even more. “But I mean it. I don’t exactly know how to charm people, much less the Board. I don’t want to add to the narrative they already have of me having terrible social skills. But I also don’t want them to think I’m being fake or pretentious.”

“If I may, you’ll botch that aspect if you keep thinking about it,” you advise. “Perhaps you can just focus on what you’re good at. Delivering a presentation, regardless of what it’s about, is a skill. You have all the information and I can add some more if you’re not confident with them. You also tweaked some existing processes and you can build on it. But also, the Arts Center will definitely be their focus, so talk about it the way you would with your father and the team… and me. You let us envision it with your words and your visuals and those are all you need.”

“Okay then. I’ll just imagine they’re all vegetables or something so I can focus.”

“Mrs. Doi likes making eye contact because she wants to feel like you’re conversing with her,” you say. “Mrs. Seo asks a lot of irrelevant questions but you have to answer as if they’re important. Mr. Ong likes being acknowledged every time he says something or even nods. So I don’t recommend acting as if they’re inanimate. Maybe just with Mr. Wang because he falls asleep in everything, but don’t take it personally. I think it’s a medical condition.”

Jungkook’s amused look encourages you to continue.

“Mr. Mun doesn’t really get design and building terms so you’d have to explain them at least twice. Mr. Bong tends to act all mighty but he doesn’t really know much. Same with Mr. Im and Ms. Hwa. The rest are fine,” you say. “Mr. Saito is very thoughtful. He’s a designer so his insights would be good. Ms. Cheng is unproblematic and overall just supportive. Mr. Yeon is just… there. They’re quite intense when it comes to profits and the company’s image but if you stand by what you know, they won’t really say much.”

“Wow, that’s… that’s a lot to take in. And also very informative,” Jungkook states. “I never noticed any of those.”

“Well, you had your reasons to be in those meetings and maybe you didn’t have a reason to pay attention to them,” you shrug. “I do. I thought it was an added way that I could help Mr. Jung. Assistants are asked to sit on the side of the room so we can be easily signaled for anything and I thought I could use that position to observe the Board members and see how they respond to the presentation. It helped for the succeeding ones and it took the pressure off him in terms of needing to appease them.”

“Makes sense,” Jungkook hums. “Worrying about how they’ll react or what they’ll say is half of the pressure.”

“It is. I couldn’t help Mr. Jung for his first time because it was mine, too, but he picked things up quite easily. He knew who to pay attention to.”

“Well, considering that I don’t seem to be ideal for this relationship-heavy position, I’ll have to pay attention and appease all of them, it seems.”

“If I may, Mr. Jeon, you can take it as a challenge,” you advise, feeling more comfortable in being honest now. “I may be just a humble assistant but I’ve seen things. With all the praises for Mr. Jung - which are deserved, of course - I’ve witnessed his moments of distress, which is perfectly normal for anyone. A-yeong had to remind him of how good he was everyday because he needed that push and it helped him. It also helped that he was trying to prove something and that he was always told that he had all the qualities to do that.”

“Not everyone has a supportive wife like him though. Or like my father,” Jungkook laughs dryly.

“They had supportive assistants,” you offer, trying to be optimistic. “I had to fill-in as Mr. Jung’s sounding board and I was always in awe at his approach to things.”

“Which is very different from mine, I know,” Jungkook says unintentionally, the sigh making you feel like he’s tired of the comparison, and you feel a bit bad at having to seemingly remind him of that.

“And which isn’t bad at all,” you try to assure him. “Just because it’s different, doesn’t mean it’s not right.”

Well, it wasn’t right to treat you the way I did, he wants to say, but the words stay in his head and at the tip of his tongue.

“That’s… comforting,” he says instead.

“I was trying to be assuring but comforting is fine, too,” you chuckle. “But I mean it, sir. I know there are all these expectations and I won’t be able to truly understand what the pressure is like but if you allow it to challenge you, you might even surprise yourself. And then you’ll end up surprising them, too. But do it for you. At the end of the day, they’re just the Board but you’re the Vice President. And you’re you. You’re all you can control.”

There’s a beat of silence as Jungkook takes in everything you’d said. You have this persistence about you that’s reflected in the way you carry yourself and in the way you relate with others, especially towards him despite how he’d treated you not long ago. Regardless of what you said, he thinks you know exactly what he feels when it comes to dealing with pressure. He supposes that working for his family can do that to someone, especially when it’s him.

“Such moving words, Ms. Cho,” he finally says.

“I didn’t mean to give unwanted advice,” you shake your head in disappointment.

“I needed it though,” he surprises you. “Other than Hoseok or even Yoongi, who are both busy themselves, I only have you as a sounding board. And as support. So, uh, thanks.”

He says his gratitude with a soft tone, almost embarrassingly. You can tell it’s something he doesn’t say that often, but you take it, as you think it’s another step towards him trusting you even more. And you need that trust for now; it’s this peaceful and honest dynamic with him that’s making your job bearable.

Lunch continues with Jungkook asking more questions about some of the Board members and you dishing some dirt on some of them as what you’ve heard in the office washrooms, perhaps the only gossip you don’t take with a grain of salt. He’s amused, and you think this is the most expressive you’ve seen him.

You proceed to meet with Manager Lee in the conference room where Jungkook goes through each slide presentation, asking both of you for more information he thinks he needs and about how he’s carrying himself, his tone, his pace, and his engagement. It’s good enough for a first run-through, Manager Lee says, and Jungkook decides to dry-run it again on Thursday.

The rest of your day goes by a little stressfully. There are multiple events that you have to organize and coordinate with other offices, and those are what you work on until you clock out on time.

Jungkook stays behind for only half an hour before deciding he’s had enough of looking through his notes and will return to them tomorrow. He takes the elevator and nods when Yoongi enters.

“Hey,” Jungkook greets. “How are the designs for the Changwon mid-rise?”

“It’s 6:00. I don’t wanna talk about work,” Yoongi whines.

Jungkook knows this. It’s also why he likes to tease his friend about it.

“Fine. We can just stand next to each other awkwardly until we have to get off,” Jungkook says.

“Hmm,” Yoongi hums. “Or, we can talk about how my lunch plans changed because someone asked my lunch partner for a meeting.”

The tension immediately rises and Jungkook hates how affected he is by Yoongi’s teasing.

“Ah, so it was you. Well, she did say it wasn’t as important as what we were meeting about,” Jungkook hits back.

“True. It’s about the Board meeting after all. It’s a pretty big deal.”

Jungkook starts to feel hot all over, as the thought of you and Yoongi conversing about your thwarted lunch plans because of him plays in his head. It’s a mix of frustration and disappointment. While the meeting was in no way confidential, he just hates the idea that it was something you shared with Yoongi. Perhaps it’s just after the fact, considering that Jungkook thinks it was a good lunch. You clearly enjoyed the dish - he could see how you tried to control your reactions to it - and your conversations went by smoothly. You were honest and supportive; he was open and all the more surprised with how well you were able to calm him down. It’s as if someone else was privy to that moment you both shared, even if Yoongi wasn’t there.

“Huh, I thought you were over her,” Jungkook says, the bitterness slicing through. If his friend picks it up, he doesn’t say anything.

“I am. We were just gonna have lunch at this noodle house because she was craving it,” Yoongi clarifies. “I told you, I’m her only friend here. It’s nice to share a meal with someone who cares about you every once in a while, you know? It’s hard being a working adult and we all need a bit of a break and a companion sometimes. It didn’t mean anything more than that.”

Jungkook chooses not to respond and Yoongi could tell why. There’s this look of annoyance painting the younger man’s face, which makes him a lot more transparent than he wishes he was.

But Yoongi can see right through his friend. It’s not something he raises though, but he won’t be surprised if Jungkook dwells on this. He just hopes it isn’t to your detriment again.

The ride home wasn’t as terrible last night, and after your elder neighbor gave you some stew because she cooked too much, you had a satisfying dinner and an even more satisfying slumber.

You feel like the end of the week isn’t too far ahead - although there really isn’t anything exciting for you except for a date with your bed - and you just want to get through all your tasks for the day and get that jjajangmyeon that Yoongi said he’ll get for you today so you can eat it for dinner. You were initially upset at having to pass up on him for yesterday’s lunch, but you’d be the first to admit that sharing that meal with Jungkook was still worthwhile.

Not only was the dish you ordered one of the best things you’ve ever eaten, it was also nice to see Jungkook loosen up a bit after feeling tense all morning because of his presentation. You liked that he’s being open to getting support from you, as it seems that he sees you now as more than just the assistant who’s there to serve him. He seems to appreciate your thoughts and didn’t even act bitterly when you gave him unsolicited advice. You feel even more that your relationship improves daily.

That is, until you enter his penthouse this Wednesday morning with barely a look of acknowledgement from him. Going through your routine, he doesn’t say much; he stays silent the entire ride to the office as well.

When you enter his room to serve his coffee, his furrowed brows have returned and his jaws are clenched as he types away on his desktop.

“Ms. Cho,” he calls out, his voice stern once again.

You turn around to face him, wondering what has happened since you left the office yesterday.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

“I just wanted to raise that while I understand you have personal relationships with other employees, I do not appreciate you divulging the topics of our meetings with them. Even if they’re my friend as well.”

His last sentence gives away who he’s talking about, and the conversation with Yoongi after you canceled your lunch plans with him rings in your head.

It was a harmless statement, you want to say; you didn’t share any more than it being a meeting about his presentation. There was no ill-intent in you telling Yoongi why you couldn’t see him for lunch. But you choose to pass up on reasoning with Jungkook. He builds his wall up even more when you do, and you don’t want things to be that way again, not when they seemed to be going okay already these past few days.

So you nod and concede. “I understand, Mr. Jeon, and I apologize. I won’t do it again.”

Jungkook can’t help but just look at you, internally smacking himself as your face falls further and as you, once again, feel far away because of his own stupidity.

“Is there anything else you need, sir?”

He shakes his head no, and you bow in response, heading out, with the sadness in your eyes as the last thing he sees.

Jungkook is unable to focus on his emails and the conference call he takes part in. The words and thoughts are all jumbled when he practices his presentation, as his gaze constantly flits to your spot just outside where you sit, doing your tasks while looking detached and dejected.

He assumes you didn’t come to work expecting to be called out the way he did with you, which in hindsight, didn’t seem necessary, especially knowing how it’s affecting you right now. Things were going well between both of you after all - he’s being more open and you’re being more comfortable. Information was flowing smoothly, and communication has improved. And he just went ahead and screwed all that up.

Jungkook starts to feel stuffy. He’s been in his office working on things for the Arts Center and practicing most of the day, with you only coming in to bring the lunch he’d asked Mr. Ri to buy and his cups of coffee. You’ve avoided his gaze and haven't said much to him, too.

He decides to take a walk outside. The outdoor space on this floor has nice benches and a small garden that overlooks the Han River. He’s seen the team eat there sometimes, and while the weather may be a little too hot for it, he’d much rather breathe in the air than his humidifier.

But as he takes his time to open the door, he hears a familiar voice from outside.

“Fine, if you won’t take the sandwich, at least take the noodles,” Yoongi says. “You’ve been craving that all weekend.”

“Not anymore,” you huff, seemingly annoyed.

“Hey, did I do something wrong?” Yoongi asks, calm and understanding in tone, traits that Jungkook could only hope to have.

“No… I don’t know,” you sigh. “Just that, whatever I talk to you about or mention, other people don’t need to know them, okay? No matter how harmless they are. Let’s just… not talk about work stuff. Especially in the office. That’s it.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.”

“What do you—”

“Mr. Min,” Jungkook calls out, fully opening the door now. “I have design guidelines I need you to go over. I need them by tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, Jungkook,” Yoongi bitterly replies, knowing what’s happened. “Just send them over to me.”

“Ms. Cho will do that right now.”

You nod in acknowledgement of Jungkook’s instruction and remain focused on your desktop. There’s silence in the air and tension that you can’t deal with right now.

“Can I help you with anything else, Mr. Min?”

“Nah. If I do, I’ll check with your boss first if I can ask you for it. Don’t want you getting in trouble because of me.”

You finally look up at him, a tinge of annoyance painting his face, a rarity since Yoongi doesn’t seem to ever be irate about anything.

“And I’ll just take this jjajangmyeon if you don’t want it,” he adds, taking the container that’s on the ledge of your desk with him, before walking out of your area.

You can’t help the pout that forms on your lips. You really love that noodle house’s version and you’ve been craving it for days. It’s where you and Yoongi were both supposed to have lunch yesterday but Jungkook spoiled it, and it wouldn’t have mattered as much, until it became a reason for him to be upset with you again. You’re not exactly sure why, but much as you want to question your boss this time, you don’t have the energy for it. It doesn’t seem worth it, but it also doesn’t change the fact that Yoongi might have said something to Jungkook, and that’s a dynamic you’re still unsure how to read or deal with.

Your gaze shifts to the man himself, who looks less annoyed than he did at the start of the day. You don’t know how his practice has been going, since he hasn’t asked you to run it with him, but you suppose he’s doing alright. He’s been in his room all day doing that and taking calls in between.

Jungkook looks away and heads out. He lets the summer air clear his mind a little before he goes back inside. It’s 6PM by the time he emerges from his room, surprised at seeing your face still buried in piles of papers.

“Ms. Cho, I’ll be heading to Hoseok’s for dinner,” he says, getting your attention. “Anything that needs my signature or approval can wait tomorrow.”

He hopes you’ll read through his words, as he wishes you’d take a rest yourself, like you advise him to do.

“Finance needs your expense reports first thing tomorrow morning, Mr. Jeon,” you say, a little too stoic than he’s used to. “These can be signed tomorrow when you arrive.”

Jungkook just nods, knowing there’s not much he can do if you don’t want to go home yet. But he does leave you with a reminder.

“Ms. Cho,” he says before leaving. He’s met with curious eyes that he tries not to fall into. “Make sure to eat a proper dinner.”

He walks out too quickly, not wanting to see your reaction.

You’re too tired to react, but that just pushes you to finish all your work and head to the pantry for some biscuits. It’s then that you see the paper bag with a note on it.

For ___. Do not touch!

At the back, Yoongi writes, I’m sorry. Here’s a man who knows how to apologize, you think to yourself.

The bowl of jjajangmyeon is inside, as well as a container of gimari. The scent reminds you of how hungry you are, so you heat up the noodles and inhale your dinner as you stand by the table. The empty office and the faint sounds of the air conditioning make you think of how alone you really are - working past your hours on a Wednesday evening, a takeaway meal from a friend you’re pushing away, and a stressful trip back to your empty studio apartment.

You rarely ever feel lonely. You don’t equate being alone with that specific emotion or state. There’s certainty and clarity you get from being on your own. But on certain days, you let yourself crack a little and be vulnerable. On certain days, you let yourself admit that being alone makes you feel lonely, and that at this precise moment, it’s exactly what you feel.

You send Yoongi a message of thanks but don’t extend the conversation after he replies. You know it isn’t his fault, and knowing him, he wouldn’t have deliberately said anything that would’ve put you in this position. It could just be Jungkook misconstruing things, but you’ve been caught off guard and you don’t feel like dealing with anyone right now.

Resuming your work, you do your last review of the expense report and leave it on his desk for his signature in the morning - a struggle considering how messy it is, which is also a rarity, as he always likes to keep things organized. You can tell how stressed he is just by this, and the thought hits you again that it’s the Board meeting in two days, and he needs you to be your best for him; he needs you to be calm and stable for him.

Whatever you’re feeling can be pushed to the side until next week. You’ll talk to Yoongi after all this is over, you tell yourself; it’s more important that you focus on your tasks and just act as professionally and as unbothered as possible.

That proves to be easy early the next morning. You go about preparing Jungkook’s day in his penthouse, going over your coordination and organization of the upcoming events and acting as if what happened yesterday doesn’t bother you, with him not acting out of the ordinary, too. It’s easy when you get to the office as well. He signs off on the expense reports and you go to finance with only minimal clarifications needed.

But when you return to your desk and Jungkook calls you to his room, you feel the tension start to build as you find Yoongi seated on the chair, his face turning sullen at the sight of you.

You nod at him but look away immediately, shifting your gaze towards Jungkook.

“What can I help you with, Mr. Jeon?”

“Deciding on the pieces to be displayed in the event halls of the Arts Center,” he replies. “Artist Lee Jaemin gave us her portfolio for us to choose from. And I’d like you and Yoongi to work on it together before lunch.”

This prompts you to look at Jungkook in surprise. He just told you off about the things you told Yoongi - which, to your defense, wasn’t even anything substantial - and now he’s making you work with the man.

“What about the run through of your presentation, sir?” You ask.

“I’ll do it with Manager Lee. His feedback will be adequate,” Jungkook replies. “I need your options because I’ll be speaking with her tonight about the chosen pieces.”

“I…, uh,” you stutter. “In what way can I be of help, Mr. Jeon? Wouldn’t Mr. Min be enough to make those decisions?”

“You hold the budget, Ms. Cho,” he reminds you. “We need to make sure we follow it. And you and Mr. Min understand my vision more than anyone and I need both of you to bring that to life with those artworks. I’m packed with meetings today so I don’t have time to sort through all of them. I trust that you’ll make the best decisions.”

“Of course we will, Jungkook,” Yoongi says, a bit of bitterness laced in it. “___ and I work well together. It isn’t the first time.”

Jungkook merely nods, and you feel the tension build up even more as both men share hardened looks that you can’t particularly decipher.

“I… I’ll go ahead and prepare the conference room. I shall see you there shortly, Mr. Min.”

You exit the office and breathe a sigh of relief from being out of there. You don’t know what their friendship is like, so you’re unsure if the tension is a sign of something serious or if it’s just a normal thing for them. You choose to brush it off for now and prepare for the meeting, walking to the pantry for a cup of tea before you do.

Back inside, both men remain unmoving, their gazes not faltering away from each other. Yoongi’s look of displeasure is a contrast to Jungkook’s somber, almost guilty face.

“Driving a wedge between us is kind of an asshole move, you know?” Yoongi finally says. “I don’t know what your deal is but this isn’t how you make it up to her. You don’t get to be nice one day then just decide you’ll be jealous and irrational the next without her even knowing what she did.”

“That’s… that’s not what I was trying to do,” Jungkook reasons.

“Then what were you trying to do?” Yoongi scoffs. “I was the one she turned down to have lunch with you. Actually, it was her plan, because she’s been spending so much time alone and she just wanted to hang out with a friend. And not only did you hinder that, you also made her feel like she did something wrong when all she said was that you had to talk about the Board meeting. No one would even bat an eye. Now she can’t even talk to me properly without fearing it’ll hurt your fragile ego.”

The truth is a huge slap on Jungkook’s face, and he feels it sting. He’s seen your comfort around his friend a few times. He also knows that Yoongi has been looking out for you when you fail to take care of yourself. And because of that jealousy and his fragile ego, you might just end up pushing Yoongi away, and isolating you is the last thing Jungkook wants to do.

He tries to say something but his throat dries up, knowing that verbalizing anything would prompt him to face feelings he’s trying so hard to suppress. He hopes Yoongi sees right through him, and the sullen look of the older man says he might.

“You’re not a bad person, Jungkook,” Yoongi says. “I don’t know what about her makes you like this. But if all you’ll do is find fault in everything she does, you’re gonna lose all the progress in your relationship. And you've got to know that’s not fair to her. You know she doesn’t deserve that.”

“She doesn’t.”

It’s the way Jungkook says the words that Yoongi knows his friend regrets what he’d done, perhaps not just yesterday but the other times as well. There’s this emptiness in Jungkook’s eyes that Yoongi hasn’t seen before; he doesn’t want the younger man to drown and lose himself in it.

“I’m… I’m, uh—”

“I know,” Yoongi interjects, knowing how hard it is for Jungkook to verbalize what he feels. “And I forgive you. I suggest you find the words and say them to her. Yeah?”

Jungkook merely nods, knowing that would be difficult for him, not because he won’t mean it but because they mean so much more. With you, it always does.

“I’ll head to meet with her now.”

“Please fix it,” Jungkook almost pleads. “I think she needs you.”

Yoongi gives a look of understanding then heads out to the conference room where he finds you seated already. The lights are dim, allowing him to see Lee Jaemin’s art pieces projected on the wall. You’re focused on your laptop screen, not budging even as he opens the door and sits next to you.

“Are you still mad at me?” Yoongi asks, urging you to look at him.

“No,” you say softly.

“Then why do you act like you still are?” He asks sullenly. “You know I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault though,” you reply, finally turning to him, your own soft eyes mirroring his. “You shouldn’t be apologizing.”

“But I want to. Because I know it matters that you hear the words even if they’re not from the person who needs to be saying them.”

“You know he doesn’t do that,” you sigh, knowing exactly who he means.

“He’ll have to learn how to. Or just stop having a reason to apologize in the first place.”

“We’ll see about that,” you shrug. “But I’m sorry, too. I just didn’t know how to act yesterday and earlier. I just didn’t want any more drama.”

“I know, and it’s okay. It’s not your fault either. I had to call him out for it.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I called him an asshole.”

“You–what?”

“Well, sort of. He had to hear it, and it seemed like he knew it, too. That's why he wanted me to fix things. Not that anything was broken, as far as I know.”

“Is that why he made me meet with you?”

“Yes, about something that he and I could easily do over coffee or a meal,” Yoongi chuckles. “But like I told you before - he tries. It’s usually just a misstep or something more complicated than actually saying sorry.”

“It’s hard for him to say, I guess. Maybe he just has his own ways of saying them.”

“It’s still not an excuse to be an asshole though.”

“At least you’re there to call him out for it,” you chuckle.

Yoongi laughs along, knowing it’s a role in Jungkook’s life that he wouldn’t mind taking. And just like that, the tension between the two of you is gone. He throws in a few jokes in there that take seconds for you to process, and it’s his crinkled smile that makes you smile and feel comfortable as well. It’s the icebreaker you need before getting to work, and it takes you both until lunchtime to decide on which of Lee Jaemin’s pieces you think would fit well in the event halls that Jungkook wants to put them in.

It’s a different experience for you, as you’ve never made decisions like this before. You wouldn’t say you’re artistic in any sense, but Yoongi’s approval of your choices and agreement with your reasoning make you feel that you aren’t as design-blind as you think. And while Jungkook has the final say - you’re not even sure if your choices would make the final cut - it’s still satisfying to see the empty spaces come to life on your screen with artworks that you chose with Yoongi, while still being within budget.

You both walk back to your work area where you see Manager Lee, and he tells you that Jungkook seems ready for tomorrow’s Board meeting. You enter his office with Yoongi, presenting what you’ve come up with - the greens and pinks common in her pieces give the room so much life, and the imperfections of her subjects leave viewers with much to admire. From the tropics to intimacy, the bright yet muted palette of the images elicits both joy and loneliness.

Jungkook goes through them while you and Yoongi look on.

“I’ll check each piece again later,” Jungkook says. “But these look good; I’d choose these myself.”

“___ chose most of them,” Yoongi says, earning him a glare from you.

“Is that so, Ms. Cho?” Jungkook asks.

“Mr. Min helped. And those pieces just spoke to me, I guess,” you answer shyly. “They’re beautiful pieces, Mr. Jeon. But I don’t have any arts or design background so please feel free to change them.”

“We’ll see,” he says, looking at you with a kind of affirmation that you’re not used to.

You nod in response and check the time. He’s got another meeting in an hour and he should be having lunch soon.

“What would you like to eat, Mr. Jeon? I can get it for you,” you say.

“No need. I asked Mr. Ri to get me something. I figured you might have lunch plans,” Jungkook responds, glancing at you and then Yoongi.

You look at the man next to you, who motions towards the door and you get what he means immediately.

“Okay, Mr. Jeon. I’ll go take my break now.”

You walk out with Yoongi who asks you what you’re craving, and sweet and sour pork comes to mind. He chuckles at your excited face, and you grab your purse and head out, turning back once to catch Jungkook watching you walk away.

Maybe this is his apology. In whatever form it is, you’ll take it. You find sometimes that the silence in place of words means a lot more, in ways that feel more.

The rest of your afternoon again feels like a blur, as you meet with the support team about the upcoming events and make sure everyone is on the same page. You spend an hour on the phone with Lucas about some Singapore and Malaysia-based Korean artists who are flying for the project launch in a few weeks while Jungkook goes from one virtual meeting to another.

It’s 5:30 before you know it, and you’re working on your spreadsheets when Jungkook walks out of his office, saying that he’s meeting with Lee Jaemin later in the evening and that he’ll just update you about the final pieces.

You acknowledge him and wish him goodbye, but he stops on the way, at the entrance towards the hallway, making sure he remains present while unable to see you.

“Ms. Cho,” he calls out, surprising you.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

“About what I said yesterday, I apologize,” he says, almost stuttering. “Especially if it caused a rift between you and Yoongi. I didn’t intend that.”

You’re too shocked to say anything, much more process the words that you can’t believe he’s saying. But he really is apologizing; he really is trying.

“It… it’s okay, Mr. Jeon. I understand.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you’re left to observe him from this angle - jaws clenched, head bowed down.

He deeply exhales. “I’ll go now. No need to stay late; you can go home when you’re able.”

“Okay, sir. Have a good night.”

He finally leaves, and the silence engulfs you. Sometimes, words in any form truly matter. You could only hope that Jungkook knows that.

The suit that you choose for Jungkook for today’s big day is a dark gray textured piece. He looks immaculate as he stands before you, and you try your best to even your breathing as you fix his tie like you do every morning. There’s something about him today that makes him more handsome than usual - a quality that you’ve found yourself admitting and accepting more easily as the days go by. He exudes a certain kind of confidence and power with his attire and his parted hair. There’s determination in his eyes as he stands tall, ready to face the day.

And you’re there, admiring the way he carries himself just inches away.

You fix the collar of his suit and make sure that all creases are flattened. You meet his eyes and the confidence melts away a little.

“Do I look respectable enough?” He asks, a little less serious than you expected. It’s when you see the nervousness in his eyes that you know how important today is for him.

“Yes,” you assure him. “You also look ready to impress the Board members with your presentation and get them on your side. I’m sure your vision about the Arts Center will make them believers.”

“Ah, well, that’s asking for too much, I guess,” he laughs dryly. “But I was on the call with Lee Jaemin last night and she was so excited for the launch. It would get her to visit Seoul often, she said, and that made me realize that artists like her and the consumers, the ordinary people, the ones who the Center is for - they’re the ones who matter. It’s their interest and appreciation that I value, not the Board’s.”

“That’s a good realization to come to, then, Mr. Jeon,” you smile, suddenly feeling like you’re seeing a different man - someone who cares about meaning and the power of art. “I suppose if that’s your mindset coming into the meeting, then you’ll definitely do well.”

“I think if there’s at least one other person who ends up believing in the value of the Center, that would be enough for me,” he says, holding your gaze for a while before turning away. “But uh, today is more than that. You and I both know they’re there to assess my capabilities - social and otherwise - and definitely point out what I lack, or probably tell me I’m not cut out for this job or that I’m terrible or something. I mean, you would know, right?”

His eyes, focused downward, slowly shift to you. You know what he means, and given that he isn’t the type to admit to things, this is probably the only other time that he comes close to acknowledging how he was to you.

“Mr. Jeon, if you’re indeed terrible, I would have quit after a week. Or… well, after the second day,” you admit.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, I couldn’t afford to,” you chuckle to ease the tension. “But also I… I saw the change. And that’s always a good thing. Lacking something is normal. We all have things we need to work on but that doesn’t make us terrible people. That just means we need a bit of understanding from others. And that also means we just have to keep trying to be better.”

There’s a sullenness in Jungkook’s eyes but there’s acceptance and understanding, too. Perhaps it’s the most sincere you’ve seen him look, and of all the days that he needs assurance about how he’s been, today is when he needs it the most. Sure, there are still things about him that you wish he’d work on. He’s still not the best person in the world. He could still be a bit impulsive with you and can sometimes be irrational in your eyes and definitely needs work on dealing with his emotions. But he’s trying. That always counts for something.

“We do,” he nods.

“Your father believes in you. Hoseok believes in you, so does Yoongi.” Holding his gaze, you add, “so do I. So trust in yourself. If you can’t do it for you, you can do it for us.”

“Is giving pep talks part of the job description?”

“It should,” you giggle. “But I’ve given several of them to Mr. Jung. I’ve learned that during stressful moments or just when we’re a little overwhelmed, it makes a difference to hear the things we already know from someone else.”

“I’m a little stubborn, but I hope you continue doing that for me. For as long as you think I deserve it.”

Jungkook doesn’t know where the honesty and vulnerability are coming from. But he’s found that with you, it’s natural - difficult because they’re things he rarely is around other people, but natural. He doesn’t want to question it anymore for fear of learning what else is instinctive for him when it comes to you. But with the way his insides melt with how you sweetly and assuringly smile at him, he realizes that his defenses against you are not that strong to begin with.

“Well, we don’t have time to pass by a cafe for a nice breakfast so I asked Mr. Ri to get some instead,” you announce, changing the subject now.

You walk towards the dining room where he follows, and you present a spread of pastries, walnut tarts, and sausage rolls alongside a large cup of coffee.

“I don’t really eat before a big meeting,” he says, frowning a little. “I’m sure Lucas told you that.”

“He did, but I’m a little stubborn, too,” you counter. “Breakfast is important before a big meeting, Mr. Jeon. It’ll help you focus, even if that’s just one tart or half a danish or a quarter of a roll. Eating will improve your energy levels and lift your mood. It might help ease your nerves somehow.”

“Fine, but I’ll just have half a roll.”

“No worries. You can always eat some more throughout the day,” you say.

Jungkook ends up finishing the entire roll and a walnut tart, while you finish a danish and settle for tea. You pack up what’s left, and he instructs you to give the rest to the team.

The car ride is quiet, save for the gentle sound of his pencil gliding through the pages of his leather notebook. He seems to be channeling his energy in a way that allows him to be calm, you think, and that’s a good thing.

You arrive at the building and Jungkook goes straight to his office while you excuse yourself to go to the conference room to help the other assistants prepare it. You don’t see Jungkook until an hour later when he enters, and you lead him to his seat then serve his coffee afterwards. It gets busy quickly as the Board members arrive, and you help in ushering them to their seats and catering to their needs. Before you know it, the assistants are heading out, leaving them and the executives to discuss confidential matters that none of you are required to know.

It’s another two hours before the presentations start, but Jungkook won’t go until after lunch. So you settle in your desk and work on various things, unable to fully focus because your mind constantly goes to him.

This is normal, you convince yourself; you had the same nervous energy for Hoseok the first time he did this. But then again, it was your first time, too. Perhaps it’s knowing how much it means to Jungkook and his own worries that makes you feel uneasy.

You understand the feeling of wanting to prove oneself, and not always being able to fully express that desire to others. He’s been honest with you recently, and sometimes it can feel quite isolating when no one is there to share the burden, which is why you’ve been trying to cheer him up and encourage him, in hopes that he’ll feel supported, that whatever happens today, he knows he has you on his side.

You proceed to the function hall for the catered lunch where you meet Jungkook. He shares the table with Hoseok and Bitna, as well as Ji-woo and her assistant, and you engage in conversation with them like old times.

Jungkook watches you speak to his cousins casually but respectfully, and he doesn’t miss the inside jokes and personal details that you all share. You still look a little reserved, but there’s this comfort in the way you express yourself around people who trust and care for and respect you.

He’s always known Hoseok and Ji-woo to be great with the employees, and a part of Jungkook envies that they’re able to just share parts of themselves with others, that they’re able to expend their time and energy being around them, something that’s always been difficult for him. He likes his privacy, likes his own space; he revels in the silence to battle the noise in his head. He’s protective of his thoughts and his feelings; he’s particular with who uses his time and energy on; he keeps his distance because it’s always easier - to not be involved, to not be invested, to not be known at all rather than be judged because of what people know.

He also thinks it’s quite isolating. Outside of his family - whom he keeps his distance from as well - the only person who knows him enough is Lucas, but it’s as shallow as just knowing his preferences and his technical opinion on things, not his dreams or fears or everyday thoughts and emotions.

Jungkook isn’t someone that people go to for advice or for encouraging words; he’s not someone that people ask about how he’s doing; he’s not a person that others seek for comfort or warmth. He’s just a man who does his work, that people serve, that people want approval from for their own gains. He’s not someone they’d go through lengths for. He just takes up space that others orbit around but he’s not the center of their world; he isn’t anybody’s.

“Is everything okay, Mr. Jeon?” You disrupt his thoughts. “Is there anything you want?”

“Chocolate milk,” he says too quickly. “Uh, only if there is.”

“Hot?”

“Yes.”

You call the server and ask if they have any, but the man says they don’t, so you decide to head to one of the stalls at the food hall downstairs.

“You don’t have to,” Jungkook says, pulling your wrist in reflex as you stand up.

You’re caught off guard and so is he, and he immediately lets go and apologizes for it. The guilt in his eyes is similar to the one you saw at the restaurant when you’d admitted that he made you feel uncomfortable, and something about it makes you feel moved.

“I mean, uh, it’s okay. It’s not urgent,” he adds, looking away.

“If it’ll help, then I should get it for you, Mr. Jeon,” you insist. “It won’t take long. I’ll be back before lunch ends.”

You don’t wait for a response and head out, leaving Jungkook with curious looks from his cousins.

“So, I see you’ve warmed up to her already,” Ji-woo hums, smiling.

“You could say that,” Jungkook shrugs, acting nonchalant.

“Well, it’s about time you did,” Ji-woo shakes her head. “She works incredibly hard and she’s very reliable.” At the younger man’s nod in agreement, she adds, “you just had to give her a chance. There’s a reason why uncle and Hoseok wanted her around for you.”

“I guess,” Jungkook hums. “She’s… she’s a good person. I don’t really know if I deserve that but she is to me. She’s required to be, I suppose.”

“Or she sees you as a human being who needs a bit of warmth and joy in his life,” Ji-woo suggests. “Kindness goes a long way, you know? She’s said before that there are people who have extended it to her and maybe she’s just doing that, too.”

“Or maybe she sees something in you,” Hoseok says now.

“Like what?” Jungkook scoffs, knowing himself that after he’s treated you, there’s no way you’d see something in him, whatever that is.

“Like an emptiness, or yearning. Something she feels, too,” Hoseok responds. “Maybe she’s unknowingly making you feel something that she wants to feel herself, you know? I had A-yeong, my sister, my parents, my friends... Seeing her now with you, she didn’t pay attention to my every need the way she’s doing now, and that’s not a criticism of her. Perhaps she just knew that I had other people to do that.”

“And I’m the lonely, single, friendless man that she’s stuck with,” Jungkook laughs dryly, although he’s not offended. Deep down, he knows it’s true.

“Sort of,” Hoseok chuckles. “But what I really mean is that she knows what it’s like to not have someone to look after her like that. You may think it’s just her job but I think it’s her not wanting you to feel like there’s no one there for you. Maybe if you see it that way, you wouldn’t think you don’t deserve it. Then you can accept it and maybe you can do the same.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jungkook counters, given that keeping his distance is exactly what he plans to do because any closer would just lead him down a path that he won’t be able to escape from.

“It’s not that deep,” Ji-woo says. “I think what my brother is saying is that it’s okay to be friends, you know? Or just allow her to be nice to you and then return the favor. It’s a much better dynamic. I mean, I’m sure he’s told you but things are just gonna be more challenging down the road, once you’re past the adjusting phase. You’ll need her like you’ve never needed anyone before. I do mean that professionally, but that also requires a kind of relationship where you know and trust and respect each other. It goes both ways.”

Jungkook takes in his cousins’ words, knowing that they speak from experience, and they’ve been doing this longer than he has. He already knows he needs you. That itself terrifies him. He also knows he has to rely on you, and maybe that entails allowing you to care for him in ways that no one - not since Chaerin, at least - has ever done before. That means letting you come close, allowing you to know him, letting you be there for him. Doing the same for you isn’t a question of whether he wants to or not - he’ll probably be denying it to his grave, but it’s about whether he can remain within the boundaries he set for himself, knowing already how you affect him without even doing much.

The thought gives Jungkook a headache, but it’s not something he can give attention to right now. He’s got a presentation to do in less than an hour. He’ll be scrutinized and questioned and probably judged and then he realizes it again - he needs you through all that. He already knows you’ll be encouraging and supportive; you’ve shown that in the past week especially, and he’s appreciated and hated every single moment of it.

The hurried footsteps signal that you’re back, and you take your seat next to him.

You’re panting as you place the cup on the table. “Here you go, Mr. Jeon. I’m not sure if it’s as milky as you want it but the really good cafe downstairs said it should be good. Oh and uh, wrap your hands around it,” you instruct, earning you a curious look. “Your hands are very cold.”

Jungkook does as you say, feeling the warmth of the drink through his skin, even more when he takes a sip and finds that it tastes just as he wanted.

“This is good. Thank you,” he utters, not wanting to meet your eyes.

You exhale a sigh of relief. You know how he has particular tastes and you just went with a hot chocolate even if he specifically said he wanted chocolate milk. There’s a brand he likes from Lucas’ list and you didn’t have time to actually get it or even store the office pantry with it - which you realize now you should do, and you make a mental note of doing an inventory so you could request for more of the things he likes later on.

“You’re welcome,” you reply. “I… I hope it helps for the presentation. Or the nerves. Or just in general.”

“It has,” he confirms, humming with every sip.

Not long after, everyone is instructed to head back to the conference room so the meeting can resume. You take your seat with the other assistants at the side after you’ve ensured that the presentation is ready while Jungkook heads to the front. You watch him go through his notes a final time, and when he sets them aside and looks up, his eyes find yours.

They’re still tainted with worry, you can tell even from several feet away. So you give him a comforting smile, knowing it’s what he needs. You gently nod and give him a double thumbs up as if to say that he can do it, and he nods back, as if to say that he’ll do his best.

And that’s exactly what he does.

The presentation goes for a quarter of an hour, and while he does give a good rundown of the achievements of the past three months, it’s his pitch of the Arts Center that really makes him shine. The visuals are good to begin with. He did those blueprints himself and the designs give life to his vision, but he explains every aspect of the project with just enough detail to enable the audience to imagine how it looks and what it makes them feel. He took into consideration earlier worries about profits and brand reputation, as well as anticipated questions and points of attack, so he goes ahead and addresses them to the point that he can’t be scrutinized for anything that’s lacking. He keeps in mind the qualities of each Board member, so he makes eye contact if he needs to and acknowledges side comments and builds on them.

He’s definitely added more - and improved - since that first runthrough you did with him, and he looks very confident and very respectable. You can tell that he values not just profits but art itself - its creation, its appreciation, and the various ways it can be experienced. As someone who yearns for that kind of passion for something, seeing him like this is quite moving.

It doesn’t help that he looks as good as he does standing up there, and it’s a thought you let yourself have before dispelling it quickly.

He gets approving nods from most of the Board members. The rest still look a bit doubtful, but you suppose they wouldn’t directly criticize Jungkook and his plans in front of everyone after a presentation like that. You also take a peak at CEO Jeon who’s unable to hide how proud he is of his son. Hoseok and Ji-woo exchange smiles as well. But Jungkook remains focused, ready to answer any questions or comments from the Board.

Mr. Mun is the first to commend him and doesn’t ask much. Mr. Im surprisingly praises Jungkook after admitting his reservations, and Mr. Saito, as you expected, asks clarificatory questions that just builds on what was earlier presented. Jungkook’s readiness and creativity are highlighted as well, and you can tell that the older man is extremely excited for this project.

The hour is up before you know it, with only minimal questions and a few comments from the attendees. Ji-woo and Hoseok raise points to help with marketing and earning profit, and you take note of all those for discussion and debriefing next week.

Jungkook thanks everyone before returning to his seat, and you see the breath he lets out after, seemingly glad that that’s at least over. You catch his attention again, and you can’t help your smile. He acknowledges you with a nod, and he turns his focus towards Hoseok as the next presenter. The afternoon goes by like this, with Ji-woo going last and CEO Jeon closing out the meeting.

There’s some time before the fellowship dinner, which is spent with side conversations and check-ins. Mr. Saito goes to Jungkook right away and you see the latter’s face light up a little, although you don’t miss the sniffing and the throat clearing that he does. You think that his cold hands earlier weren’t due to his nervousness; perhaps the last month has finally caught up to him because you truly believe that this man does not rest.

You head out to return to your desk, knowing you’ve got several things to do before the dinner that assistants are invited to. You fly through your notes from earlier and some administrative tasks before heading back to the event hall where you find Jungkook talking to Mrs. Seo and Mr. Ong this time, two people who’d most likely be critical of him so you’re glad that he’s at least forging some relations, if their animated way of speaking is any indication.

You see him excuse himself to head to the washroom, and you take this time to order a cup of ginseng tea for him. It arrives just as he returns to his seat, and when it registers why you’d ordered it, he nods and mumbles his thanks.

“If I may, perhaps you shouldn’t stay long, Mr. Jeon,” you suggest. “It’s been a tiring week and you need to rest.”

Jungkook hates being told what to do, but he’s also never had someone tell him to rest because he needs it, much less even know that he’s not feeling alright.

“I need to engage with the Board,” he reasons. “I’m sure that’s what father would like. I can rest during the weekend.”

“Okay, sir,” you sigh, knowing he’s also right. Perhaps he’s accepted that this is a critical part of his new role as Vice President. “Just let me know if there’s anything more that I can help you with.”

“I will.”

You sit at the table where the other assistants are, engaging in hushed conversations as you talk about the Board members and how tired you all are. It’s nice being around them, as you all share the experience of stress and isolation, of knowing too much sometimes, of security and stagnancy. They know what you’re going through, partially at least - unlike you, they have people to go home to and proper hobbies that excite them. They have loved ones close by and things they look forward to during the weekends. So while they do make you feel understood, you also can’t help but be a bit jealous.

Your thoughts are suspended when Bitna offers to take you home. It’s well past 9 and you’re not keen on staying longer to drink with the rest of the big bosses here. You glance at Jungkook who has a wine in hand, clearly trying his best to keep up with the conversations he’s a part of. He looks incredibly tired - much more than usual - and you feel bad that this isn’t something you can help him with.

You take Bitna’s offer and you both head to your respective bosses to bid your goodbyes. Jungkook nods and mentions his meeting with the artist last night that he says he’ll discuss with you on Monday. There’s more you want to say, but you worry he’ll think you’re nagging about his health - which, you remind yourself, is also part of your job - and you don’t want to end the week on a sour note.

Jungkook watches you leave the event hall and he immediately feels your absence. Even when you spent much of your time apart, he could feel you there, partly because of the ginseng tea that you ordered for him twice at your insistence and partly because the knowledge that you’re around is enough. And now you aren’t, and he suddenly can’t stand any more of the socializing he has to do.

But he powers through it for another hour. When he bids his father goodbye, the older man commends him for his presentation earlier and the way he handled himself throughout the fellowship dinner. It’s assuring, but he knows there’s so much more work to be done so he doesn’t revel in it any longer than a few seconds.

The drive home is quiet. His soft groans as he massages his temples are the only sounds in the car. When he arrives at his empty penthouse, he grabs a bottle of whiskey from the counter and sits on the couch - a glass in hand, necktie and buttons undone, feet on the coffee table, and head rolled back as he reminds himself that he survived the day, that he did a good job, and that he changed some of the Board members’ minds about him.

And much as he tries to keep away the image of you, he’s unable to - there you were in the room, on his side, cheering him on. He didn’t miss the satisfied smile on your face once he finished his presentation, nor your look of worry after the ginseng tea was placed on the table.

You’re just good at that - making him feel like someone looks out for him, that someone else minds that he succeeds, that someone cares that he’s not well and that he should rest.

The smile on his face fades once he’s reminded that you’re supposed to do all that, and that he isn’t anyone special, nor should he be. It’s the thought that keeps him behind the lines - you’re unattainable in so many ways, yet he’s also glad that you are. It’s easier to be mindful of his place like that; it’s easier to accept that you’re you and he’s him, and it’s easier to do his job when he knows you’re just doing yours.

At least, that’s what he hopes.

But when he gets a call from reception the next morning about a package that you dropped off, all that wishful thinking seems pointless. And as he stares at the bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of him, all his thoughts from the night before come crashing down.

Why is everything so hard when it comes to you?

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flamingoofeathers · 2 months

Text

𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗖𝗥𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗡' || 𝗕𝗥𝗜𝗗𝗚𝗘𝗧

pairings: bridget x fem!reader

summary: tired out of your mind, you confessed to Bridget.

genre: fluff

one-shot; wc: 1.2k

main masterlist bridget masterlist

a/n: i apologise for not posting yesterday but i did not feel well bc of the heat, like what the fuck, why is it so hot, but here i am with a one shot for the lovely Bridget, because i am down bad for this girl both the character and the actress, Ruby Rose Turner…the woman that you are.

It had been a long day or rather, a long week for you. Midterms were coming and you were panicking, studying never came easy for you, so you have to study twice as hard than everyone else to receive a passing grade, which caused you to cram all night long, with no sleep, while during the day, as student body president, you were required to patrol the halls and then di extra curricular activities, you didn’t have time to study at all during daylight.

By the end of the week, you were like a walking corpse, eye bag clinging to your under eyes, slouching not caring whether you were about to bump into something or someone.

Friday afternoon, walking to your after school club, dragging your feet with your eyes barely staying open, to others you look like zombie, some students looked at you with worry but none cared enough to actually help you that is until you bumped into a certain bubbly pink haired girl.

The sound of a falling metal tray startled you, watching the seen in front of you, you panicked when you saw a bunch of pink cupcakes on the floor, looking back at the girl, she just looked at at you horrified.

“Bridget! Oh my god, i am SO SO SORRY!” You said apologetically as you were about to lean down to grab the fallen tray and cupcake a hand grab at your forearms stopping you, you look up to see Bridget’s worried eyes.

“Y/n? Are you ok?” Bridget asked, you were confused as to what she was talking about.

“Yeah? Why?”

“Your eyes..” realising what she was talking about, you immediately pulled your arm away from her hand, grabbed the cupcakes and the tray before handing it back to her hurriedly.

“Im sorry again” you said before rushing away from, sudden burst of adrenaline from embarrassing yourself in front of your crush.

How can you forget about the eyebags surrounding your eyes, you almost look like Hook with his eyeliner from how dark your eyebags are.

After basically running to the fashion club, you were even more exhausted than before, causing you to poke yourself self while sewing a shirt, it would’ve been fine if it happened once or twice, but as the hour passed, the other members couldn’t help but look at you everytime you say “ow”.

“Y/n? You good, girl?” The club president asked, but you didnt hear her.

“Y/n? Y/n!” The president shook you wake when she noticed you actually had your eyes closed while using the machine.

“Wa-what?” You said blinking your eyes back open.

“Y/n, i think you should go get some sleep”

You fake chuckled “whaaat? Im fine, im totally awake” you said activating the machine again but your eyes began to close once more.

“Nope, you’re not, c’mon” the president said before grabbing you and dragging you out of the room with you mumbling protests, it was clear very very crystal clear that you were exhausted.

The president was silently scolding for not taking care of yourself but once you reached the courtyard, you felt as if you were handed to another pair of arms, much softer arms and mmmm they smell good too.

The only part you heard of their conversation was “i’ll take care of her” before you were once again dragged away.

You looked drunk from how much you were stumbling and babbling about being “super awake and super energised” you heard the person carrying you chuckle and you recognised it as Bridget’s laugh, but you didnt have the energy to even blush around her.

As she guided you back to your dorm, she scolded you about needing to manage your time better and taking better care of yourself which made you sulk a bit.

When you arrived in front of your dorm, you were already passed out in her arms, making it hard for her to ask you for the keys of your dorm so she checked your pockets and that made you giggle in your sleep.

"𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴" you said murmuring.

Bridget chuckled opening your door. She guided you to your bed, making sure to lay you down carefully but what you said made her drop you to your bed but you didn’t even realise as you close your eyes snuggling into your blanket.

"𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩?" 𝘯𝘰. 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵.

The next day you woke up more active and aware of your surroundings, but what made you confused is why Bridget is talking to you and blush-y around you, not that you minded of course, you just don’t know why.

It went on for the rest of the day, she was happily talking to her, so she confronted her about it.

“Bridget, im sorry, why are you talking to me?” You said, and the girl suddenly looked confused and hurt.

“Not that i mind, of course, in fact i enjoy it a-lot, its just…you never really talked to me this much before, did something happen?” You defended immediately.

“Well, yesterday you said-“ she hesitated noticing the confused look on your face “ you know what, nevermind” she said smiling but you can see that it wasn’t a genuine one.

“Im just gonna go” she said attempting to leave but you grabbed her wrist.

“No, please tell me what i said yesterday” you were dreading to know what you said.

“Um, well….you said you liked me, but you were totally buzzed out yesterday so i understand that you didn’t really mean it, so no worries” she hurried say with nervousness in her voice.

“Oh. My. God. Bridget, i am so sorry, i didn’t want to confess that way.” You said blushing, embarrassed about your actions from yesterday “you know, you can totally reject me immediately, you don’t have to let me down slowly or whatnot, i don’t want to force you to hang out with me, just because you know i like you” you said apologetically.

“No, y/n, i li-“ Bridget said.

“You’re too kind that you cant even say it, oh my goddd, i totally get it, no hard feelings, you dont have to say it, im gonna go now so- yeah” you said turning around to leave.

The next thing you knew, lips were pressed against yours. Your eyes widen at the sudden situation, you saw Bridget with her eyes closed ACTUALLY kissing you.

'𝘰𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘥. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬' you thought and when the situation finally registered in your brain you kissed back and you felt her smile against your lips.

When you pulled away, you looked at her shocked “𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙪𝙪𝙘𝙘𝙠..." you whispered while touching your lips making her chuckle.

She grabbed both of your hands as she stepped closer to you.

“I like you too, silly” she said bashfully.

“Oh my god, you’re so cute” you said dazed making her blush.

“Aren’t you going to ask me?” Bridget said fidgeting with her hands.

“Ask you?” Youre brain was NOT working at all.

“To be your girlfriend?” She smiled shyful.

“Oh-“ you were short circuiting “oh!” you cleared your throat.

“Bridget, would you do me the honor of going on a date with me and becoming my girlfriend?” You smiled.

“YES! YES! YES!” She squealed hugging you “i’ve been dreaming of that question for so long”

"𝙞 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪"

#descendants: the rise of red #descendants #rise of red #bridget #bridget x reader #wlw #x reader #ruby rose turner #descendants x reader #queen of hearts x reader #ruby #ruby rose #flamingoofeathers #bridget descendants #queen of hearts descendants #queen of hearts

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drabblesandimagines · 6 months

Text

Pink Gingham

Leon Kennedy x reader Established relationship, all fluff

It had been a long week at work. A number of your colleagues calling in sick and multiple projects in the pipeline, you’d tried to take up some of the slack with ill-advised early starts and late finishes...

Truthfully, if Leon hadn’t been away on assignment, you wouldn’t have volunteered for so much overtime.

The house still felt too big compared to the apartment you’d once shared, so the more time out of it at the moment the better, in your opinion. You’d started to feel a little off Friday morning, cast it aside as nothing that a lie-in Saturday would sort, but still found yourself awake at sunrise.

You’d got up, checked your phone to see if there were any messages – zero – showered and dressed, and taken the early wake-up call as a sign that you shouldn’t lie in today, but instead head downstairs to start on the long list of housework that had been neglected with good intentions.

You fill the kitchen sink with hot, soapy water and begin to wash the numerous glasses and cups that have built up. It must be the steam from the sink because there’s sweat on your brow by the second cup. You reason you should wait for the water cool down and take a bottle of water out the fridge, greedily gulping down half the thing before you change tact to loading the dishwasher.

After loading up the racks, you still feel too hot for what should for such a menial task. You’re feeling more akin to that time you tried to join Leon in one of his ridiculous work outs in the garage. To top it off, the beginning of a headache is now beginning to pound at your temples. You try and rub it half-heartedly away with your fingers, finally fighting back a yawn.

You check your phone again – still nothing.

It wouldn’t hurt to go back to bed, would it?

Your phone buzzes almost violently on the bedside table, startling you awake. The headache you had before you’d laid down for what might turn out to be an ill-advised nap doesn’t seem to have shifted, even with the painkillers you’d taken. In fact, it feels worse than it did, graduating into a horrible, constant throb around your temples.

You weakly kick the duvet off of you, feeling flush – should have got changed into your pjyamas rather than getting in bed fully dressed - and reach out blindly for your phone, holding it above your face to squint at the screen, trying to decipher what it was determined to tell you.

Two new messages from Leon.

Finally on my way home, sweetheart. Wrapped up yesterday but they wouldn’t discharge me till this morning. ETA 210 minutes.

You would’ve rolled your eyes at the acronym if it wasn’t already hard enough to focus.

And before you ask – bit bruised. Don’t recommend a prison tour…! All good otherwise x

Leon had set out on an assignment the previous weekend and you hadn’t heard much from him besides one text message a day, a sentence of more than three words if you were particularly lucky, often sweet words...

"All good."

"Miss you, sweetheart."

"I love you."

"Recycling out tomorrow!"

..or reminders about something you'd forget to do completely if he wasn't around. In fact, that’s the way it had always been if he was on what you’d call 'active duty', not just him in a stuffy suit up DC way, trailing behind the President. It's not like you’d got used to not hearing much from him, just that it was expected.

There was always that little lump in your throat when he was away, of course there was, that this would be the time you wouldn't hear from him at all and there'd just be a knock on the door, agents dressed in mourning suits.

Besides, you’d rather his focus was on coming back to you in one piece than trying to compose an update whilst shielding from bullets or something horrifying.

You haul yourself out of bed, immediately regretting it when your vision swims and you fall back down heavily on the mattress, balance somewhat abandoning you.

Probably just got up too fast, you reason, try and shrug it off. There’s there niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach that you’re not well, but you’re going to remain in denial about it. You hate being sick, will never acknowledge you’re feeling under the weather to your grave and just muster on. It’s all psychological – it’s just a headache, you haven’t drunk enough water, not after you’ve sweated the last one out, didn’t have a proper breakfast either.

You’re fine. There’s too much to do, anyway. Every single time Leon had arrived home from an assignment it had been to a clean house and a home-cooked meal keeping warm in the oven, his favourite sweatpants fresh out of the dryer after you’d convinced him to soak in the tub – worked wonders for tense and bruised muscles – and you’ll be damned if he didn’t have the same today. It’s what he deserves.

He'd beam as soon as he walked in, wrapping you up tight in his arms, pressing a kiss against your temple and you’d run him said bath, finishing off dinner to be served for when he returned downstairs. What would follow would be an early retreat to bed, sometimes for devouring kisses and more, or just embraced in each other’s arms.

Leon’s text was from a while ago, so he couldn’t be too far away. Probably be hungry as well – often running off pure adrenaline when he was fighting for his life, then had an insatiable appetite on his return – so you really should try and see what you could combine from whatever’s in the refrigerator.

Ugh – you hadn’t done a grocery run in a few days. That had been on your agenda for today, though you’re not sure you’ll have time for that now. The laundry hamper is close to overflowing, the dishwasher definitely needs running after you crammed it full after dinner last night, some rogue plates and glasses piled up besides the sink and definitely a few rooms would benefit from the vacuum being run around.

You don’t even what to think about the garbage and recycling situation.

So much for his usual welcome home deal, then.

You get up a little slower this time, rewarded for your efforts by no spots of black in your vision and carefully head out the bedroom and towards the stairs, perhaps gripping the banister a little too firm on your descent than usual.

The easiest task by far is to pop the tablet in the dishwasher and set that to run, so you do that first, though making sure to bend down slowly after the previous bouts of head rush. After it whirs into action, you grab an apron off the hook – a pink frilly gingham one, a gift from a friend – and turn your attention to the fridge and proceed to stare forlornly at the contents, hoping for inspiration to strike.

You close the door in defeat and lean up against the counter. Maybe there’s some pasta and sauce in the cupboard…? Your thought is cut off as you hear the front door unlock.

“Sweetheart, you home?” You want to think it’s the sound of his voice that makes you weak at the knees, but you’d be a liar.

“In the kitchen!” You call back, keeping yourself propped up against the counter. Usually you’d be rushing towards him, colliding into his chest for a hug but everything feels impossible.

“Hey.” He smiles, creases at the corner of those blue eyes you could stare into for hours. Though he wasn’t lying in his text about the bruises – there’s a black eye blooming, currently a rather pleasing shade of purple, and plenty of other marks and scrapes littering his arms.

“Hey. Sorry, I haven’t started dinner yet.” Leon raises his eyebrow at that, and you feel awful, but it’s not for the reason you think. “No, sorry. I mean, welcome home! I’ll just star-” You stand upright, intending to head over to the cupboard in search of something, but your step is a bit too heavy, too quick to move and your vision swims again.

“Whoa.” Leon catches you by your shoulders, holding you up. “You feeling all right there, sweetpea?”

“I’m great.” You try and shrug him off, but his heavy palms stay in place. “Are you okay?”

His brows furrow, eyes scanning over your face. “You look hot.” The concern gives way to a grin as he realizes what he’s said. “I mean, not the usual hot. Warm.”

A hand remains on your shoulder while he moves the other to your forehead, gauging your temperature, but you’ll be damned to admit it feels soothingly cool. “I’ll turn the AC on. Let me-”

“Shit, no. You’re burning up.” Leon’s eyes widen, a worried crease appearing on his brow. “How long have you been like this?”

“No, it’s just…” You pull your head back from his hand, reluctantly. “It’s just hot in here.”

He gives you a skeptical look as you try and step around him – a look that would usually be accompanied with his hands on his hips if he didn’t still have one keeping you in place.

“How long?” He repeats, his mind racing, heart pounding. It was protocol to be decontaminated after any interaction with a BOW – he’d showered and changed clothes since Alcatraz. Hell, he’d bagged up his old ones to be incinerated, just to be sure. He knows it’s not logical, he can’t have brought something back with him and it affect you this fast, but the worry still surfaces. “From before I got home or just now? Did you feel a sting or anything?”

“Sting? No.” You shake your head, scrambling for excuses. “I’ve had a headache all morning but I probably haven’t drunk enough water. And… And I didn’t have the AC on or the windows open today, it’s probably that.”

“Mm-hm.” He relaxes a little, he’d already began calculating the distance between here and the lab. “Have I told you before that you’re a terrible liar?”

“Honestly, I’m fine,” you protest, taking advantage. “I can get dinner started at least. You go relax and I’ll…!”

Your vision swims again from sudden movement, but this time it’s from Leon sweeping you up into his arms. He doesn’t even let out a grunt, even though you know he must be aching from the amount of bruises he has.

“Sweetheart, we’re barely into the afternoon. You don’t need to worry about dinner - you’re going back to bed.”

“No, I’ve got so much to do.” You lament, though you don’t fight as he adjusts his hold on you, wrapping your arms around his neck as he heads towards the stairs.

“So? I can handle it.”

“But you just got back, I should be looking after you.”

That’s the way it had always been. Leon comes home and you’re there for him, however he needs you to be. Sometimes he’ll tell you about what happened as he cuddles into your chest – likes to hear your heartbeat, reminds him of some good in the world – but you’ve failed miserably this time, not even remotely prepared.

“Sweetpea, I know you hate being sick but you aren’t going to feel any better pushing yourself, okay? Let me fuss over my favourite girl for once.”

You don’t say anything as he places you gently down on the bed, sitting up against the headrest. He goes over to the dresser and pulls out one of his t-shirts, tugging the knot of the apron strings loose before softly asking you to put your arms up above your head. It’s all gentle touches, removing the apron, coercing you out of your top and into his, shuffling you out of your jeans and pulling back the covers for you to get in.

“These the painkillers you took?” He lifts up the box from the bedside table, eyes skimming the instructions and dosage.

“Yeah.” You mumble back, nuzzling your cheek into the pillow. “I don’t remember when though.”

“We’ll hold off a couple more hours, then, before another dose.”

He grabs the glass that was sat beside the pills and retreats into the bathroom, where you hear the tap run for a moment before he’s back at your side, placing down the glass of water. He crouches down besides you and gently brushes some of your hair behind your ear.

“Can I get you anything?”

You open an eye. “You.”

He grins, gets to his feet and carefully clambers over you to lie down at your back, draping a heavy arm around your waist.

“Only for a bit, though. Don’t want you overheating from me.”

“Mm-hm…” You mumble into the pillow, feeling your body relax. The weight of his arm feels nice – reassuring. “Love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

It isn’t long before Leon can hear your breathing change, assuring him that you’ve drifted off to sleep. He could stay there easily, just close his eyes and nod off and though he knows you would never oppose that, the way you’d be so determined to get the house in order... A flash of pink gingham on the floor makes up his mind.

---

You wake up alone in the bed, a little confused, but clear of the awful headache. Looking for the glass of water you know that Leon left there earlier, you notice that the bedside table now holds your phone, plugged into charge. You sit up slowly – still wary of dizzy spells - greedily drink from the glass of water, feeling it slip down your throat into a particularly empty stomach. Seems like your appetite had decided to reappear.

The digital alarm clock over on the dresser shows that it’s gone 8pm and, most intriguingly, the laundry basket is now empty. Huh.

You don’t bother to dress as you head downstairs, still clad in Leon’s t-shirt. The TV’s playing on a low volume, a candle burning on the coffee table. You can hear the thrum of the washing machine from the utility and when you head through to the kitchen, you find Leon hunched over the sink, apron strings tied around his waist as he dips a glass into the soapy water. The dishwasher is slightly ajar and you can see it’s been emptied, and he’s washing everything left in the sink – by hand.

He looks over his shoulder with a hesitant smile at the sound of your footsteps and then turns, drying his hands off on the apron – the pink frilly gingham number seems to suit him a little too well.

“Hey. Not sure you should be up yet, sweetheart. You were a bit unsteady on your feet earlier. Go sit down for me?”

“Okay.” You nod, and he’s pleased that you don’t protest – putting it down to the fact that you still must be feeling somewhat lousy. He traces your footsteps as you plod over to sit on the sofa though, just in case, and watches you curl up against the armrest.

“You feel up to eating something? I ordered in some soup earlier. Can warm it up on the stove now if you like – it’s your favourite.”

You nod. “That sounds nice.”

“Coming right up.” He pulls the blanket from off the armchair – the one that’s usually reserved for movie nights – and tucks it around you, pressing a kiss on your forehead as he does.

He turns to head back to the kitchen when he feels your fingers curl around his wrist, causing him to pause.

“I’m sorry I’m an awful patient.”

“You’re not, just stubborn,” Leon corrects with a cocky grin, but it doesn’t have the desired effect as the pout remains in place on your lips, thoughts spiraling. “But so am I.”

“No, I should be looking after you. You should be coming back to everything in order. Whatever this is won’t be anywhere near as bad as what you’ve been through - those bruises look so sore an-“

“Hey, it’s not a competition, sweetpea.” He says, softly, crouching down in front of you, rubbing your thigh with his right hand. “We’re a team, aren’t we?”

“It feels like I’ve let you down.”

“Never.” He says, firmly, giving you thigh a squeeze. “Actually impossible. I’m just glad I got back in time to keep an eye on you, I just hate the idea of you feeling lousy on your own.”

The washing machine beeps from the utility and he gets to his feet, passing you the remote from the coffee table. “Why don’t you find us something to watch, and I’ll move the laundry to the dryer and get that soup warmed up?”

“If you’re sure.”

He bends down, presses a kiss against your crown.

“Positive.”

He only makes it a few steps back towards the kitchen when you call out, looking bashful.

“Leon?”

“Mm?” He twists slightly to look back in curiosity.

“You look cute in that apron.”

He gives you a twirl, ending with a beaming grin. “I know.”

---

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff

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cameronspecial · 4 months

Note

Could you write an enemies to lovers fanfic with Rafe Cameron x middle class sassy sarcastic chubby reader where reader and JJ are super close which pisses Rafe off but he completely loses it when JJ starts flirting, touching reader somehow, and ask her out. When JJ runs off somewhere to probably get a drink, a few minutes later, Rafe tells reader to come with him because it concerns her “boy” which is just an excuse to get her alone. She sees that JJ has a hand print on his wrist which causes reader to confront him and yell at him for hurting JJ and Rafe confess his love for reader which leads to praise and breeding kink sex. In this story, Rafe and Reader have known each other since she was 16 and he was 18 because she was his classmate at the kook’s academy

Everything Was Blue

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SMUT and Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.9K

Masterlist

Ever since he stole her spot as class President in their senior year at Kildare Academy, Y/N has had it out for Rafe. She would’ve been fine if he won the vote because he wanted the position, except he didn’t. He only campaigned for the title once he saw how much she wanted it. He was lucky that being VP was enough for her to get into Harvard because she would’ve killed him on the spot if it had.

The year spent as his Vice President was torture and she made it her life mission to return the favour to him. He would provoke her by sending her out as an errand girl. He would solely focus on the aspects of the job that made him popular with their peers, so when it came to the background work or the less favourable policies, she was left to tend to them. Rafe promised the students to make every Friday casual dress day and Y/N spent a whole weekend by herself working to make that happen while he and the other Student Council Members partied at the Boneyard. She got back at him though by anonymously telling Ward where his bottle of expensive whiskey went.

To add to her distaste for the Kook, he always antagonizes her Pogue friends and her relationship with them. She may be rich enough to afford Kook Academy, but the number in her parents' bank account was not satisfactory for the Kooks so the Pogues took her under their wing. They didn’t care what she had financially; they cared that she had whipcrack remarks against Rafe and would stand up for them against any Kook who tried to mess with them. She was an honour Pogue and proud of it, especially since hating Rafe was one of the requirements.

———

The sand gives way to her shoes as she hops out of her jeep. Music coming in front of her tells her the party is already in full swing and she curses Mr. Robinson for being late coming home from his meeting. She reaches into the car to pick up her phone and keys from the passenger seat, closing the door behind her. She spins around to find Rafe leaning against the car beside hers. “For someone who put time-management skills on her resume, you sure are late to the party,” he teases and then brings the red solo cup to his lips. She glares at him. “Well, for someone who claims to be good in bed, you would assume you could make a girl cum. But, at last, I’ve heard otherwise.” She smirks at the way his eyes narrow and continues her journey toward the gathering of people on the beach. He pushes off the car to follow her. “So you’ve been asking how I am in bed. Why? You want to take me out for a ride?” She laughs at the idea, “More like enough girls have been dissatisfied with the service you provide that they felt the need to complain.”

His mouth gapes and he can’t think of a comeback before she spots JJ in the crowd and makes her way to the Pogue.

“Hi,” she greets, running her hand along the top of his back to drop it on his opposite shoulder. He turns to her with a smile, “Hey, Beautiful. Where have you been?” “Oh, you know how Mr. Robinson is. He tells you he’ll be home by six and he comes home at nine. C’est la vie,” she complains. He laughs and guides her toward the keg near the bonfire. “Ahh, yes. The things you can do as a Kook. Don’t worry, we can get you caught up.” She nods, “I can only have one though. I’m DD tonight.”

After they get her drink, the two of them approach the speaker and begin to dance. His hands are on her hips, swaying with her movement and her head moves from side to side with her eyes closed. They are both caught up in the moment, so they don’t notice the pair of eyes trailing their every move.

Rafe can’t stop staring at her. He never can. He pretends it’s because he is scrutinizing her; his heart disagrees—the blue flowers on her catch his eye first. The corset-like top deliciously hugs her curves and he wants to untie the little bow that rests between her bosom. His sight trails down her body to the skirt of her dress. Its flowing design stops him from being able to imagine what his head would look like between her thighs. The high slit does give him a small glimpse that makes him want more. He finds JJ’s hands on her hips and something grows in his heart. A green spot of envy. What is he doing? He shouldn’t care that Pogue is touching her. He hates her. He has to focus on something else.

Luckily, Hailey sees him in the crowd and wanders over to him. She takes the hand that isn’t holding a cup and places it on her hips, dangerously close to her upper bum. He plays along with her, lowering his face to her neck. His lips ghost her skin. His gaze chances a look at Y/N. His envy flourishes and his grip on Hailey tightens. JJ’s mouth skims the shell of Y/N’s ear and she throws her head back with laughter.

“I’m going to go take a wiz,” JJ informs the girl after making a joke about the Kooks beside them. She bobs her head and steps back. Kiara slips into the spot occupied by their friend and the girls dance together.

A plan starts to form at the sight of the blonde’s departure. He keeps his distance while the Pogue dips into the wooded era of the beach. As soon as his enemy makes a reappearance, he rushes forward. “Dude, come quick. Something happened to Y/N,” Rafe advises. The boy is too drunk to question the older man and his concern overweights his suspicion. He follows Rafe, thinking nothing that he is being led back into the woods.

———

It’s been a while since JJ has returned from going to the bathroom and Y/N begins to worry that he passed out somewhere. She navigates through the sea of people towards where she knows he likes to go to the bathroom when they are at the Boneyard. Her eyes scan every blond, yet she doesn’t detect the one she wants. At the edge of the crowd, she finally locates the man she wants; however, he isn’t in the same condition as he left her in. A purple bruise blooms around his eyes and a red cut on his lower lip drips down his chin. His unaffected knuckles mean he didn’t even get a punch in. “J-jay, what the fuck happened? Who did this?” she worries, taking his chin in her hands. She examines his injuries. “I thought falling face-first into a tree trunk would be fun,” he jokes. “Who do you think did this, Y/N/N? The only person who wants to do this on a fun night out instead of partying.”

She isn’t surprised. Anger seeps into the back of her throat and she searches for the person she wants to let it out on. He is around the fire with Kelce and Topper. She storms over to him. Her finger digs into his chest and he backs him up against the rocks behind him. “Where do you get off?” she screams at him. He chuckles down at her, “Normally in my bedroom, but I’m not opposed to doing it in public if that’s what gets you going.” She scoffs. “Please, I’d rather do it with a cactus before I let you anywhere near you.” He fakes a pout, “Aww, you want a partner with an exterior as prickly as your personality.”

Her hand goes up to grip the collar of his button-up. “I’m not fucking joking around, Rafe. Why the fuck did you beat JJ?” she interrogates. His frown turns irritated and he steps forward. “He is a Pogue. What other reason do I need?” he instigates. She shakes her head and lets go of him. “You know what. I don’t have time for your bullshit.” With her attention no longer on him, disappointment replaces his envy. He can’t let her leave. “Wait.” His hand wraps around her wrist and she stumbles backwards. “What?” she questions. She pivots in his direction with rage in her eyes. He lets go of her and steps back with his arms up. His mouth drops open. He stutters, “Uhh.” His brain panics and forgets all the words. She shakes her head and returns to her leaving. He goes into overdrive, taking her hand and dragging her to the parking lot. Out here, the music is muted here. She rips her hand out of his hold and uses it to slap him. “What the fuck are you doing?” she yells. He rubs the cheek she hit. All the words in the English language, yet he can’t seem to string enough of them together to tell her how he feels.

“I love you?” The declaration sounds more like a question with Y/N spinning her eyes in their sockets. “You can’t be serious. If this is your new attempt at torture, then you have to work on the technique,” she quips, trying again to distance herself from her enemy.

The breath he lets out doesn’t match the length of his others. “August 12th, 2020. At two thirty-four pm, you walked into Bell’s Cafe with Kiara. Your tank top was a blue spaghetti strap tied at the back and your jeans were black with white embroidered flowers. You ordered a blueberry scone and blueberry mint iced tea. You and Kie sat at the booth by the window closest to the door.”

She interrupts him, “What does this have to do with anything?” He doesn’t acknowledge her inference. “She asked you how you felt about entering your senior year and you told her that you felt confident you would get into Harvard, especially if you spent most of your time doing Student Council work. She thinks she pieces together where he is going. “So you decide you would make my life hard to mess with my chances,” she assumes. His head swings, “No. No. Will you let me finish, please?” He waits for a response and she motions with her hand to continue.

“You like the colour blue and anything to do with it. You bite the back of your pen whenever you are in thought. A habit you are trying to stop. You like to listen to audiobooks in the car. I know those things because everything you do catches my attention and everything I do is to get yours.”

She finally hits the bullseyes, “You took the Presidency so that I would notice you?” Hearing her say it out loud makes him feel childish. His hand cups the back of his neck. “Yeah. It’s stupid, I know. You were out of my league and my horny ass brain could only think of idiotic ways to be seen by you. You can’t say it didn’t work though,” he admits. She chuckles, “You really think I want to be in a relationship with you after you jeopardized my chances at getting into Harvard and have made my friends’ lives a living hell.” He steps closer to her, boxing her in against the car behind her. His head lowers to mimic the placement of JJ’s. “I think you like that I light a fire in your heart. I think every hateful stare we exchange is to mask our desire. I think that if I put my hand up your dress and under your panties, my fingers are going to come back soaking,” he says while his hand goes dangerously close to her entrance. “Shall I test the theory?”

His gaze bores into hers, anticipating an answer. He catches the small dip in her head and fulfills his requests. As expected, his fingers come in contact with a wet substance. He brings it up to his lips and sucks it into his mouth. His mouth drops back close to her ear, “Look at that, you are as wet as I thought you’d be. As sweet too. Reminds me of blueberry scones, except better.” His hand falls behind her near her rests and cups the doorhandle. He pulls it open, taking her back off the vehicle to shove her in.

A thud resonates in her ears and she crawls back to lie down on the car seat. “Can I have another taste, Pretty Lady?” he begs, his eyes flicking down to her crotch. She exhales, “Yes.” He tuts and places his hand on her soft stomach. “That’s not how you ask politely.” She sneers at him, closing her legs and sitting up. “If you want to be that way, then I’ll find someone else to take care of me. Maybe someone with a better track record,” she postulates. She reaches for the handle. He grabs her wrist and spins her to face him again. He growls, “You are going to regret that.” He pushes her back against the seat, throwing her legs over his shoulders. The hem of her dress pools at her waist and her blue lacy thong is revealed. He groans at the wet spot forming. He drags it down his legs and throws it to his back seat. His eyes peek to where it lands. He grins when he sees they are wrapped around his gear shift. Those aren’t going anywhere.

Her bare pussy shines up at him; he licks his lips in apprehension of his meal. His head dives in, making contact with the sweet substance. She jerks forward in a moan and her fingers attempt to grip his shaved head. The smirk he wears presses against her. The slurping that fills the car is pornographic. She whines at the release of pressure. His chin glistens as he looks up at her, “See, Pretty Lady. You can’t listen to what random people say. You have to get the facts from the source yourself.” Her plump pout has him chuckling and he squeezes her thick thighs.

He focuses on her bud, sucking and nipping like his life depends on it. His saliva pools at the edge of his lip and it drops at the edge of her entrance. He places his tongue inside of her, curling towards him. Her walls start to coil around him. His fingers pass through his mouth and jam them into her hole at a fast pace. This unravels her and she constricts around him, making it hard for him to pull out. His hand rests on the mound above her clit. He messages the skin and she releases a bit to make it easier for him to remove his fingers. He rises from between her legs. His lips press against hers and she tastes herself on him, causing a need to regrow against her. He grinds his closed hard-on against her. “You did so good, Pretty Lady. You make such pretty sounds,” he murmurs to her. “I’m going to fuck you so dumb that everyone knows who you belong to now. Whether that be from how loud you scream tonight or you start singing my praise or your belly rounds with my baby. You are mine.”

One hand is used to take off his belt and he yanks down his underwear with his pants. “You ready, Pretty Lady?” he confirms with his eyes on her. She circles her arms around his neck to bring him near her face and connect their lips. “Fuck me right now, or I’m going to go tell everyone that you can’t even find the hole.” A snicker passes his lips and he lines himself with her entrance. He doesn’t give a warning this time as his hips slam forward, causing their pelvic bones to be flushed. He sits up and raises her hips. The new angle mixed with the pace of his pistoning gets his tip where it needs to be to cause her the maximum amount of pleasure. “You are doing so well, Pretty Lady. You are going to make the best mama for our baby. Can’t wait to see you get all round,” he praises.

His thumb reaches her bud and rubs it clockwise. “Harder,” she orders him, bucking her hips up to meet his motion. He grabs the headrest to anchor himself and drags his cock out so that his tip rests inside of her. His re-entrance is swift and with a harder force than before. “You feel so good, Pretty Lady,” he moans. “I’m not going to last.” She feels the warning jerk that confirms the truth of his words. She clenches around him, helping him to the edge. He spasms inside of her and rides out his high. His limp dick comes out and he is about to lean forward to help her to her second release when she stops him. She uses her hand to bring him up with a shake of her head. “What’s wrong? You didn’t finish, so I was gonna help you out. Can’t have you running around telling people I can’t make you come,” he jokes, trying to get back to work. She kisses him. “It’s okay. I don’t need that right now. All I want is for you to hold me.” He grins at her words and flips them over so she is on top of him. Her head is on his chest. The car is silent and the windows are fogged over from the activities that were happening inside. She decides to get one last word in, “And for you to apologize to JJ.” His grumble has her laughing into the night.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron smut

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sukunas-wife · 7 months

Text

Valentines Special

A little something for the masses 🤍💌 Happy Valentines Day everyone 🤍🤍🤍

“Two of whatever just came out.” Sukuna knew what came out, it was Friday on Friday they made snickerdoodles fresh. The smell always filled the school entrance and shoe locker room pulling students in to buy. He was always there just in time for the old to sell out and the fresh to come out. The same amount every day 143 yen, he kept the exact change daily in the stupid little coin pocket of his wallet. The jingle of his wallet while he took out the coins was always accompanied by the whispers and giggles of girls when Gojo Satoru would make his daily appearance gracing everyone with his cheeky smile, hands stuffed into his pockets, crude remarks being passed off as flirting.

“Thanks for that.” Gojo slid the pack of cookies Sukuna was about to pay for toward himself, “Fuck of Satoru don’t touch my shit unless your looking to lose the hand you jack off with.” Sukuna slammed the coins on the counter, snatching the pack away from him before walking away. He didn’t care to listen to whatever Gojo was screaming back at him, he had his own stuff to worry about, that stuff being finding you before you started running late to your class. Sure he was late to his classes but a teacher wouldn’t say a damn thing once they saw his face. But you, you were a mess. He didn’t understand what you saw in being Student Body President. You show up early to school, skip breakfast because your sense of time is shitty, stay late after school and always look so tired after dealing with incompetent fools. At lunch it’d be a miracle for you to eat on your own, more often than not he’s dragging you to the school's garden and feeding you whatever you packed him for lunch. And when it’s the right season, whatever fruit he can steal from the garden.

Perfect timing as always, he caught you running up the stairs. You stopped smiling up at him, he was at the top staring down at you, eyebrow raised at why you were holding your skirt down like you could flash anyone. Why were you wearing one of those slutty mini skirts anyways, usually only Gojo’s fan girl wore those to catch his eye. He usually saw you in those skirts that were knee length, sometimes ankle length. He liked it like that, you looked different from everyone else, it amused him when you’d grab the front of your skirt hitching it up to run up the stairs, his eyes would always long in your stocking covered squished thighs when you’d raise your skirt too high in a hurry. But this mini skirt, you didn’t miss the change in his face, and you looked down, “My skirt got torn by my desk and this is all the nurse had in the and found.. i don’t know how you lose a skirt really but…”

He sighed, “damnit Y/n you really are a mess ya know.” You watched as he untied the black sweater from his waist. He moved to stand behind you, one step down, “Ya know how many fucking perverts are in this damn school just waiting to get an up shot of some girls underwear.” You felt his arms come around your waist and you moved your hands away watching as he tied a knot with the sleeves, “It’s disgusting.” He didn’t move away, your hands rested on his around your waist, you felt him rest his chin on your shoulder, “What happens if one day I’m not here to take care of you huh?” You turned your face to look at him, his red eyes were staring down at you. You did your best to kiss his cheek, “I’ll just have to suffer alone Kuna.” He scoffed at you, “whatever.”

You couldn’t help the smile when you pressed your lips to his cheek again, your lips lingering and he hummed before moving to face you, catching your lips. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, smiling up at him, his eyes were lidded with a lazy smile. The warning bell pulled you out of your little lovey staring contest, “Change that skirt when you get the chance or I’m killing the first pervert to look up your skirt.” You rushed up the stairs and he leisurely followed behind til you made it to your class. He never failed to eye your class out of judgement, more specifically looking for that dumbass Gojo that was in your class. He was always ready to get into a fight with that prissy twink. You watched him make a face and looked into your class, there was Gojo Satoru, staring right at your boyfriend with a frown of his own. Between the two it was like watching an adolescent Snow Leopard and Tiger getting ready to fight for a fresh meal. What would you expect from two of the most well known families in your city? Satoru’s family was well into being wealthy, their lineage producing world class Models and successful doctors, it was no surprise when on show and tell in elementary school Satoru brought in magazine’s of a white haired blue eyed child saying he was a baby/toddler model. As for Sukuna’s family, they have a much longer history in this city then Satoru’s. Trumping Satoru’s family in wealth, but what would you expect from a family who had long been dedicated to beating the head of a successful and thriving branch of the Yakuza.

You remember the first time you met Sukuna’s father. Sukuna had taken you out to buy a traditional kimono, get your hair done with jade combs and pins. Telling you about how his father was a very traditional man with values such as, respect your elders and those above you, never steal or wrong the everyday man or woman, never disrupt the harmony of your family or those around you, never become involved with drugs and always act chivalrously. You admired the way he talked about his dad, he looked up to him with respect, admiration so you agreed to do the best you could.

His house was not just a house, it was a Shinden Zukuri, it was massive, and glorious. It was exactly what you would have expected from his father from just hearing of him. “It’s…amazing Sukuna.” You turned to look at him and he was smirking down at you, “I know it is.” He led you along the path to one of the entrances and to the Genkan, you slid your shoes off and held onto your bag. Following sukuna further into the house, and out onto the engawa of the home until he stops at another room, he slid the shoji door open telling you to enter. He took your bag, placing it on a shelf against the wall, and you looked around the room. It was almost empty except for the white men's kimono on the kimono rack. You looked at Sukuna. His school shirt was open and he pulled it off, throwing it over your head, “Leave that on.”

you heard the rustle of fabric, all you could see was the white fabric in front of you until we pulled it off of you and you looked up at him, his brow was furrowed as he tried to fix a hair comb that came loose. You could see a part of his chest showing through his Kimono, he leaned closer mumbling something about the comb being difficult. He smelt good, it was masculine but clean, he smelt like a candle he once bought you, Bergamot, Lavender and Cedar. You couldn’t help the little sniff you took and he let out a single laugh pulling away from you, “weirdo.”

You just smiled up at him and he led you further into the “home.” Stopping right outside double sliding doors, “alright, if you’re not ready by now, you’ll never be. So if you're not ready and you fail, sorry to break it to you now you’ll probably never see me again.” He gave you a cheeky smile when he saw your scared and worried expression, “Su-alright no backing out now.” He slid the doors open bowing and greeting his father, and there he was, frozen for a second the man was massive in size and he was only sitting. He was shirtless and covered in tattoos, you swallowed before dropping into a deep bow greeting him and introducing yourself in a calm but confident way. You didn’t look back up until you heard him let out a low chuckle and tell you to stand at ease. Your face was still looking down, if that’s what Sukuna was going to look like when he was older, there was already no doubt in your mind you wanted to marry him but if there was even a smidge or shadow it was gone. Sukuna’s father cleared his throat, “Sit, I want to learn more about the little lady who managed to leash my boy.” Sukuna groaned as he put a hand on your lower back, ushering you forward to sit with him across from his dad…. The rest was history.

The Late bell pulled you from your memory, “I’ll see you-at Lunch yeah yeah go before that teacher Yaga comes in and marks you absent.” He nodded with his head finally looking at you, you smiled. You saw the small twitch in the corner of his lips before he stepped back and started walking to his own class with no haste.

——————

It had been a week since that day but more importantly it was the weekend before valentines. Here you were in your kitchen doing everything to make the perfect gift. You’d gone to the store that morning spending a decent amount of your savings on things to make sweets and bake little things for him. There was no doubt in your mind that just like last year, your boyfriend's locker would be filled with love notes and chocolates that he’d either let you have your choice of or throw away. The love letters, you’d read and go though all the candy bullying him about his little secret admirers before he’d crumple them up throwing them into the trash.

But right now! You were focused on making homemade chocolate filled with red velvet cream, smooth white chocolate, or almonds. You had taste tested so many you finally got the right flavour. They weren’t bitter, but not overly sweet like the store chocolate you watched him make a face at, one time. On the other hand, you had little chocolate heart shaped cookies you’d decorated with royal icing trying to make cute valentines designs. The lines weren’t the cleanest or fanciest but you liked them enough to pack them into a little treat bag with a red bow and a name tag. The Chocolate you packed into a gold box with a bright red satin ribbon. And the little cake tin you chose was a gold tin with a clear top. You wanted to make a milky cake with whipped cream and strawberries. You even bought a bigger bento box to make a special lunch for him, you had it all planned out. It was a three layer bento. Your plan was to stuff him and push him into a food coma for his final class. The first was beef and vegetables with white rice with pickled plum and pickled ginger he always ate like it was nothing. The second layer was tempura shrimp, a pickled cucumber salad and fried rice. The final layer was two egg salad onigiri with sesame snap pea salad. On the side was going to be your cake and a little egg pudding. There was no way he’d be cranky in his last class if he was stuffed to the brim.

——————

“no more…” You watched Sukuna as he dramatically fell over into your lap breathing heavily as he huffed. One arm thrown over his eyes, the other hanging down still holding the onigiri he had yet to bite into. Your hand scratching his head gently, “Happy Valentine's Kuna.” You did your best to angle yourself and lean over to kiss his forehead. You didn't miss the smile on his lips when you pulled away, he held the onigiri up blocking the sun when he uncovered his eyes, the little face you worked so diligently on for him. “Maybe one more.” You watched wide eyes when he stuffed half of it in his mouth before holding it up to your lips, his cheeks puffed out while chewing, it was cute for someone who without a doubt could snap your neck or make anyone cry and want to die with just words without having to raise his voice. He hummed offering to feed you some of the onigiri again and you took a small bite. Before your finger came to pick a grain of rice off his cheek, it was cliche and even worse when he eyed your finger and pulled it to his lips licking the grain off. “Happy Valentine’s Day to me.” His cheeky smile made you break out into a smile when he shoved the last of his rice ball into his mouth struggling to sit up, “damnit, I can’t.” He gave up and laid back in your lap, “I live here now.”

“Wait there’s one mo-no I can't I’m full, look at me.” He patted his stomach with his hands, you didn't see a difference in his fit form, that was until he saw the reflective gold and his eyes widened, “wait!” You watched him wiggling and struggling to sit up, putting a hand on his back to push him up, he made grabby hands at the tin when you pulled it away, “I thought you couldn’t- I can! I lied, I do that sometimes.” He tried to lean over you to grab it but you leaned further, so he did what he would never do publicly. He grabbed you and hauled you over into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist holding you there, “Now feed me y/n.” He rested his chin on your shoulder looking at the cake. Whipped cream and a heart made of strawberry purée and strawberries, “heh, you do all this for me, pretty girl?” Your smile was big and ungraceful when you laughed at his nose grazing your jaw and neck. “Yes, it’s all for you Sukuna, I wouldn’t do this much for anyone else.” You turned and kissed the side of his temple and he smiled, “cmon open it.” You fed him and he hummed, his chin resting on your shoulder tilting it so it rested against yours.

You sat like this for while feeding him and yourself until the bell rang, he squeezed you holding you against him, “C‘mom even little miss perfect can take a break, let’s stay out here a little longer.” You reluctantly agreed and kept feeding him what was left of the box cake. Eventually he just held you there, smiling and laughing at how you told him your story of how you messed up and your poor parents who had to be taste testers.

Soon the last school bell rang, he opened his eyes just barely glaring at the intercom that played the obnoxious chime. One arm was tucked behind his head, the other around your shoulders holding you against him. He was sitting back leaning against the plum tree the school planted. Your head on his chest, eyes closed with soft breaths, arm draped over his chest. His school coat was over you, he almost didn’t want to wake you, but his back and butt were aching from being in this slouched angle for so long. So slowly he started to sit up, trying to gently wake you, your eyes opening to look up at him. He was so beautiful in the setting sun in your eyes, “What time is it?” Your question went almost unanswered until he pulled out his phone, “it’s time to go home is all that matters.” You didn’t look away from his face and he looked back at you, holding eye contact. “Happy Valentine’s Day Kuna.” Your small tires smile and sleepy eyes squeezed his heart. He leaned in nuzzling his head to yours, “it’s not your day yet but Happy Valentine’s Day Brat.” You closed your eyes smiling until you felt his lips, you were delighted to kiss him back before he sat up pulling away, “we gotta get up my ass is starting to hurt.” You laughed getting up with the help of his outstretched hand, “I guess you’ll just have to take these home with you.” You didn’t miss the flash of excitement in his eyes when you pulled out the gold box of Chocolates and red ribbon tied cookies. You smiled and he grinned like a mad man carefully stuffing them into his bag.

“Ya know brat, I never celebrated Valentines before…” he trailed off and you didn’t miss the hint of pink on his cheeks, it made you smile and take his hand. “Guess I’ll just have to spoil you next year too.” He scoffed looking away but you didn’t miss the way he held on tighter to your hand, “Good because if you think you can just leave your dead wrong.”

It was the full bloom of red on his shocked face when you kissed his cheek so innocently and said “If I leave anything it’ll be my last name,” that assured you in a way he wouldn’t fight you on that subject.

Tag: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

@cyder-puff @bofadeezs

@sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira

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sonotkari · 23 days

Text

Gaeguri

Kang Haerin x Fem Reader

[ Synopsis ]

Frogs. Frogs. Frogs. Everywhere in Kang Haerin's gym bag. You find it cute, and you can't help but point it out to the girl.

Fluff

[ Word Count ]

3.3k yes, it's surprisingly long. I'm surprised as well.

[ a/n ]

Mainly focused on Readers point of veiw! This is based on one of my friends when I pointed out how cute their duck key chain was and she started yapping at rapid speed about it lol Everyone knows how Haerin's fond of frogs so /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\

If you have cute keychains, dis for u bae <3

"Do I really have to go?" I protest with a slight whine as I look at the Aussie girl standing with her arms holding a firm grip on her waist as she huffs. "Yes Y/n, you have to be there" I groaned a bit, sighing in defeat, knowing there was not much I could do to change her mind. "But Hanni, I'll be all alone there" I crossed my arms, sighing again for the millionth time of the day. "I don't wanna awkwardly watch you guys like some loner- no offense to the people out there but- oh you get what I mean!" Hanni rolls her eyes off with a chuckle. "You'll be fine. Danielle will be there. With the others too!" Sighing again, pinching my nose as I grumble out. "Yeah, Dani will be there but for cheer practice! And the others as well"

I felt a pair of hands grabbing my shoulder and the next thing I knew, I was shaking. "C'mon Y/n, you're rarely free after school because of stuco duties... It's a miracle the meeting got canceled today!" Hanni stops shaking me as she lets go of my shoulders. "You have to come see me play for once" "But I always watch you play-" "Not when I'm practicing" She cut me off and looked at the clock hanging on the wall of the classroom. "Shoot, if I get late this time, Ryujin will definitely kill me" Hurriedly packing her things as she took her gym bag, Hanni looked back at me once more before leaving. "And I'll be killing you if I don't see your ass there Y/n. Bye!" I was about to say something but Hanni was already sprinting her way to the gym, saving her life from the basketball captain who hates people getting late for practice.

It was an unusual day today since, for first starters, Minji apparently, had a fever last night so she couldn't come to attend school today. And since the student council couldn't do a meeting without the school president, it had to be canceled. Hanni's off to basketball practice like always. Danielle has cheer practice on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and that happens to be today. Hyein's grounded for some reason, so she has to go home straight or she'll be grounded long enough till her graduation. So that means I'm alone for today and now I have to watch Hanni's practice or else I'll be buried 6 feet underground. I opened my bag and stuffed the notes and textbooks I needed and once I was finished, I started walking my way to the gym.

The last time I came to the gym was last season's game so it had been a while since. I quietly walked at the sides, glancing at the basketball team from time to time, where they were fully focused on their practice while finding a good spot to sit and watch in silence. My attention snapped when I heard a familiar cheerful voice call out my name. "Y/n!! You came!!" Danielle came rushing from the opposite direction, already opening her arms for a big hug like she always does with any friend she meets. And at her back following the cheery girl, was the cheer captain herself, waving her hand at me gracefully like always as she smiled with her usual soft gaze. "Hey Dani, hey Wonnie" I outed a chuckle as I felt Danielle's warm embrace along with a giggle. "Hey Y/n, isn't it pretty unusual that you're here? Aren't you busy with stuco?" Wonyoung had hugged me as well after Danielle pulled out, scooting to the side. "Yeah, you're usually really busy... What's the occasion??" The other Aussie girl had also asked me with a slightly confused tone.

"Stuco can't do a meeting without Kim Minji so it got cancelled today" Danielle and Wonyoung both nod their heads understanding the situation with their mouths shaped like the letter O. "Minji did tell me she got a fever... I hope she's doing okay right now..." Danielle says in a worried state, Wonyoung gently rubbing the Aussie's back reassuring her. "She'll be fine in no time Danielle" I nod, agreeing with Wonyoung as I smile at Danielle. "Yeah, she'll give us a text when she's all better for sure" Wonyoung opened her phone, looking at the time on her screen as she looked at Danielle again. "Break's ending soon, we have to go back to practice" Danielle nodded and looked at me with her usual bright smile. "Well, that's our cue, Y/n... We'll see you soon?" I returned the smile at both girls. "Mhm, I'll see you guys soon... Good luck with practice!"

After I bid my goodbyes to the girls and parted ways, I looked down at the benches and saw some towels and water bottles scattered all over. That must be where they take their breaks. I walked down, one step higher than the bench, and sat there to watch them play. A few minutes had passed and the timer rang, signing that it was time for their break. The basketball team slowly walked their way to the bench, casually greeting me before taking a sip of water from their water bottles. I soon spotted Hanni hurrying her way to me with a smile. "You're actually here!" I rolled my eyes with a chuckle at her statement. "Of course, I'd be here. I don't wanna die yet" Hanni comes up my way and jokingly punches my shoulder with a scoff. She drinks water for a while before turning her attention to me. "Thanks for coming tho. I'm glad I get to see you off from being busy once in a while" I couldn't help but get soft at her words.

I really loved these tiny moments where Hanni would word it out how she cared deeply for her friends. I know she cares a lot more than anyone could ever imagine but the girl rarely puts it to words, making these moments extra special for me. "I should thank Minji for it" I expressed an unbelief-shocking face as it was my turn to punch the girl's shoulder. "Stop assaulting the poor sick girl, Hanni!" After chuckling out an apology, the Aussie girl went back to practice with the others as well, leaving me alone again to watch them in silence at the sides.

I was dazing off for a while after watching the basketball game for some time when I felt a presence coming this way. I shifted my gaze to see the girl with the familiar basketball jersey, her gym bag slinging from her shoulder as she quietly walked her way to the benches. Kang Haerin. She's one of Danielle's close friends, beside us Hanni, Minji, and Hyein. But, I never got to get close to her since every time I see her with Danielle and I interact with the Aussie girl, she suddenly disappears like thin air without Dani and I noticing. She's usually quiet and never talks unless you're close to her. And that one valid person is Danielle Marsh and Danielle Marsh only. She noticed me and we locked gaze for a moment before she shifted hers away, sitting on the bench as she plopped her gym bag on the side as well.

My eyes noticed a certain thing on her gym bag. Well, it was hard not to actually. Frogs. Frogs. Frogs. Some were patched on the side, and some were hanging from the strap. But they were all frogs. I locked my gaze at two crocheted frog keychains that somehow looked like it was looking my way. Does Kang Haerin like frogs? No- it looks more like she loves frogs. In all of the animals she could like, it's frogs? Kang Haerin loves frogs?

I couldn't stop myself from chuckling at this newly known fact of the girl. Kang Haerin loves frogs. How cute is that??? The girl had heard me apparently, as she turned to her shoulders, our eyes meeting again doing so. She stared at me for seconds with her big black cat eyes, probably confused, even tho she didn't look like it at all, on why I was suddenly laughing out of nowhere without anyone near me to cause it, laughing like that which totally does not sound like a creep at all. Before I left a weird impression on the girl, I slowly pointed out the crocheted frogs hanging from her gym bag. "Those little ones are cute... Do you like frogs?" I felt like I saw the girl's eyes widen a bit but then she looked down at her gym bag, to where I was pointing, and looked back at me. After some seconds, Haerin slowly nodded at me, parting her lips to say something. "They're supposed to be species called Banded Bullfrogs"

I was surprised that she'd talk to me in the first place, but she was kind enough to tell me what species the crocheted pair was. Banded Bullfrogs. "Aren't those the ones native to southeast Asia?" I blurted out of curiosity as I was thinking about it. I'm sure I heard our biology teacher talk about it once in class. I don't remember when but I'm pretty sure... I looked back at Haerin and jolted a bit as she was now staring at me intensely. Did I say something wrong? Was my frog facts wrong? I remembered it wrong...!? I felt myself panicking inside more as I saw the girl's lips parting again, scared that she might scold me for getting the wrong facts about her beloved frogs. But instead, I was met with a light gentle tone.

"Yeah, they are native to southeast Asia..." Relief washed all over my body as I quietly let out a breath I didn't know I was holding until now. But I couldn't help jolting again as I heard her speak up. "It's common in India and Nepal as well. It walks and digs compared to other frogs which jump mostly. They bury themselves in the dirt until it rains so they can avoid getting dry and also avoid getting eaten. Did you know, they eat small insects like ants but they can also eat beetles too? Not in the wild tho, it's kinda difficult for them to eat big things in the wild. And when they get threatened by predators like snakes, their body inflates larger than their actual size to scare them off. That's why they're called fat frogs as well" She took a quick breath before staring at me again, probably a signal that she finished what she wanted to say. I never heard Haerin speak this much before, especially when I'm not as close as she is with Danielle. I slowly nod at the facts she just rambled at me right now while shifting my gaze at the two frogs.

"But, aren't they supposed to be more... brown?" I tilted my head slightly as I stared at the green-colored frog's eyes, somewhat staring back at me. I heard a soft sigh escaping from Haerins and fixed my gaze back on her. "Well, my mom doesn't know about frogs that much so she probably thought every frog was colored green. And I couldn't say no to using the yarn she bought for me to crochet these so..." I hummed in response as I nodded again, understanding the little frog crisis she had. The timer rang again and Shin Ryujin walked to Haerin's way while she was steadying her breaths from running around court. "Kang, you're up next..." The basketball captain says breathlessly as she puts her hands on her waist, catching her breath more properly. Haerin looked back at me for a while lastly, before standing up and walking her way to the other members.

Sometime after, the practice had finally come to an end. Everyone started packing their gym bags and some were already heading out to go home. I stood up from my seat, about to leave the place and wait for Hanni by the school gates instead, when I felt a familiar pair of eyes gazing at me intensely, again. I glanced at the side to see Haerin staring at my soul for who knows how long and how many times now. "Are you coming again tomorrow?" The girl asked with her usual big black cat eyes piercing on me. I didn't get the question quite well, looking at her with a confused expression. "To practice. Are you here tomorrow too?" "Ahhh... No, I don't think so..." I mumbled as I pondered about tomorrow. The stuco meeting can't be postponed any longer so I think I'll be back with my duties again starting from tomorrow. "I have student council duties after school tomorrow, I think" Haerin slowly nodded, finally averting her gaze down as she did so. "I'm ready! Let's go I'm starving already..." Hanni whined with a sigh as she walked her way to me with her gym bag slung on her shoulder. "Haerin-ah!! Are you finished?" Danielle came from the other way, calling Haerin like always for them to go home as well. I locked eyes with Haerin one more time before giving her a small smile and I started heading out towards the exit with Hanni following from the back. "Since when were you close with Kang Haerin??" "Since we talked about frogs" "Huh???"

Minji's recovery speed was rapid. She came to school the next day like she wasn't piping hot the day before. The stuco meeting was held, and after 2 long hours of duties and other work, I finally got to leave the school building. I was walking my way to the gates when I saw someone standing by, seeming to be waiting for someone. The rest had almost already gone home at this time so it's kind of unexpected for someone to wait till this hour. But then my eyes went wide, noticing who this person was, standing by the gates. "Haerin?" She noticed me and looked up from gazing down at her feet. "Who are you waiting for this hour? Almost everyone's home..." She looked at me for a while, blinking a couple of times before she spoke up. "You. I was waiting for you" "Huh? Me? Didn't basketball practice finish like an hour ago??" She slowly nodded to what I just said. "You waited for me for an entire hour?? Why? Did you need anything...?" After a few seconds of silence, she finally took something out of her bag. It was one of the crocheted frogs from yesterday. She silently handed it out to me with a nonchalant expression. "You're... giving this to me?" She silently nods again. "But isn't this important to you? You worked hard for it..." "And I want you to have it"

I gently took the little frog from her hand and looked down at it. It was neatly crocheted with big black eyes and cute pink-tinted cheeks. A big smile was plastered on my face as I looked up at Haerin, flashing her my big smile with gratitude. "Thanks Haerin... I appreciate it..." The girl didn't utter a word and just stared at me, like usual. "But you didn't have to wait an hour for me... I feel kinda bad" Haerin shook her head to the side this time. "I chose to wait on my own. And I didn't have your number anyways" I quickly took out my phone from the pocket of my jacket and opened my contacts, handing it out to Haerin after. "If you don't mind typing yours here, I can text you later" The girl's eyes shifted on my phone and after a while, she gently took it from my hands and started typing. A few seconds later, she handed me back my phone, and I smiled back at her with a 'thank you. "So, which way do you go home?" Haerin pointed out the way and I smiled widely at her for the second time of the day. "We go the same way! Let's walk home together then"

Haerin taught me a whole lot about frogs and how she had grown to like them. Back when she was in grade school, her friend suddenly blurted out that Haerin looked like a frog character and ever since then, she'd become a big frog lover. After we parted ways, I got home and texted Haerin. Even in texts, she would casually bring up frog facts, changing subjects from here to there in seconds. It was fun to see how the girl who was usually quiet, just piercing her gaze at people, would change into this mini biologist, teaching you that frogs aren't so good with catching prey who don't move much. Knowing her love for the cute small animal, I had an idea in mind.

I rushed my way to the gym, panting as I looked around for one particular girl. "Oh Y/n, what are you doing here...? Aren't you supposed to be with Minji?" I looked at my side to see Wonyoung coming down towards me as she drank some from her water bottle. "I kinda ran away and now I have a span 10 minutes before she notices and gets full president mode on me..." I breathlessly say so, gaining a small chuckle from the cheer captain, crossing her arms as we speak. "So, why's the secretary of the student council running away from duties? This isn't like you Y/n..." Wonyoung chuckles again, looking at me with full of curiosity in her eyes. "I'm here for Haerin. Kang Haerin, have you seen her?" She looked around and pointed to the sides where one familiar girl was standing, finding something from her gym bag. "Thanks Wonnie! You're a lifesaver!" I quickly say so as I rushed my way to Haerin.

"Haerin!!" I called her name out and saw her jolt a bit before looking back at me. "Y/n...?" "Hey, hi, sorry for interrupting whatever you're doing... It's just I don't have much time and Minji would kill me if she knew I neglected stucco duties-" I say all in one go and take some breaths before I'd officially pass out. Haerin didn't utter a word and just stood there, probably waiting for me to get to the point. I huffed one more time before I fixed my gaze back to the girl. "I wanted to give this to you..." I say so as I pull it out from my pocket. It was a small crocheted frog, much smaller than the one Haerin gave me. But this was in color brown. Like the Banded Bullfrogs. "It's small, and I figured out I'm bad at crocheting in a hard way so it's a lot messy but..." I chuckled softly at Haerin as I took her hand and placed it in her palms. "I got the color right... Now you actually have a Banded Bullfrog!" I was getting more nervous as seconds passed and she still hadn't uttered a thing, just staring at the small brown frog in her hands.

But it all faded away, replacing a warm feeling on my chest, when I saw her smiling. For the first time since we've talked and became close. Kang Haerin had smiled. Over my crappy frog crochet. What's happening? "Thanks, Y/n... it's adorable" She said with full affection as she gawked the frog with a big smile plastered on her face. "You're... welcome..." My heart was a beating mess, if she wasn't so focused on the frog, I know she'd be able to hear it. The timer rang and the basketball captain had called out Haerin to come. She looked back at me with a smile smaller than earlier as she quickly blurted out words before going her member's way. "I'll take good care of it, I promise"

I silently watch her jog off to Ryujin, hearing my heartbeat still pounding loudly, knowing someone would definitely hear if they were close. I took deep breaths as I averted my gaze, landing on the green crocheted frog hanging on Haerin's gym bag which Haerin and I were matching. It's probably just me but, it felt like the frog was looking at me with a knowing expression. It's a damn crocheted frog.

"Don't look at me like that"

no, i didn't spend an hour googling about frogs. what are u talking about?

#kari writes! 🦦#kang haerin #newjeans #newjeans x reader #newjeans haerin #haerin #haerin x reader #kpop x reader

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kick-a-long · 19 days

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Jewish Columbia students were chased out of dorms, spat on, and pinned against walls: damning report

By Matthew Sedacca

Published Aug. 31, 2024, 3:44 p.m. ET

Jewish students at Columbia University were chased out of their dorms, received death threats, spat upon, stalked and pinned against walls, as the Ivy League school devolved into a cesspool of antisemitic hate in the wake of Hamas’ Oct. 7 murderous raid on Israel.

The new and disturbing details emerged from the lengthy, 91-page document released Friday by the school’s faculty-led antisemitism task force, which revealed the extent to which the hate permeated the institution.

“Students described being shoved, pushed to the ground, berated for showing support for Zionist causes, and watching Israeli flags burned,” the task force’s authors wrote.

Jewish and Israeli students at Columbia University endured a months-long nightmare of harassment, violent threats and assaults after Oct. 7.

Getty Images

“They recounted seeing drawings of swastikas in their dorms, students yelling pro-Hamas chants, and being denied access to public spaces and opportunities simply because they were Jewish or Israeli.”

Testimony from nearly five hundred Columbia students informed the report, which found visibly observant Jews had been pinned to the wall and had their jewelry ripped off while coming and going from synagogue. Others recounted being spat on and having been called ethnic slurs on campus.

One student, who had installed a mezuzah on her dorm’s doorway prior to the Israel-Hamas war, was forced to move out after people were pounding her door throughout the night beginning in October, demanding she explain the Jewish state’s war in Gaza.

“If I walk on campus right now with my star out or kippah or say ‘am Yisrael chai,’ I could start World War III,” one anonymous student’s testimony read.

Instructors tasked with guiding and mentoring students instead contributed to the sense of isolation and unease among Jews and Israelis on campus, according to the report.

Students recalled being pushed to the ground and watching Israeli flags being burned.

One faculty member leading a class that delved into the Israel-Hamas conflict called a student who previously served in the IDF a murderer. Another professor extensively said a pair of Jewish donors to the university had “laundered” “dirty money” and “blood money.”

During the spring, as protests and encampments roiled the school’s Morningside Heights campus, protesters, including outsiders and members of the university community, bellowed death threats at Jewish students. Demonstrators who held Israeli flags, meanwhile, recalled being assaulted.

“There is a sense of personal threat, and we keep looking over our shoulders,” master’s student Omer Lubaton Granot, an Israeli veteran and father of a toddler, told an Israeli radio station in the wake of protesters seizing the academic building Hamilton Hall in April.

Councilman Eric Dinowitz (D-Bronx) described the students’ testimonies as “horrifying — and not surprising.”

“These are stories we’ve been hearing about, as the report says, even before the encampments,” he told The Post, adding that antisemitism had been on the rise at college campuses even before Oct. 7

“Without any sort of consequence [for students and faculty] this sort of behavior will continue

The task force offered several recommendations to address the issues detailed in the voluminous report, including improved anti-bias training for students and staff along with a new system for reporting complaints about antisemitism.

The report was issued just days before Columbia’s fall semester begins and less then three weeks after embattled university president Minouhce Shafik suddenly resigned, citing the “period of turmoil” that marred her brief tenure at the school.

Interim President Katrina Armstrong called the disturbing incidents “completely unacceptable” before rattling off new initiatives at the university aligning with the panel’s recommendations.

“This is an opportunity to acknowledge the harm that has been done and to pledge to make the changes necessary to do better and to rededicate ourselves, as university leaders, as individuals, and as a community, to our core mission of teaching and research,” she said

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coolprettyleo · 3 months

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so high school - jack hughes ☆

first meeting!

jack hughes x original character

wc: 436

tw: cheesy? overworking. awkwardness? etc.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

marley was speeding down the streets of Plymouth. She had managed to score herself an internship at the US hockey arena and was running late, on her first day.

she didn't mean to be so careless. usually, she was a promising student. she was at the top of her class, a student-athlete, and president of the student council.

so when she chose to add an internship to her schedule, she knew she was going to have to sacrifice; although, practice had other plans as it ended up running late.

she was captain of the cheer squad, and there was a rally on friday, so of course, marley was left to choreograph a dance that the girls were having trouble keeping up with. she ended practice and sprinted to her car, speeding to the arena.

she parked and ran off seeing as she was three minutes late.

usually, the girl would be embarrassed to wear her practice clothing in public, but that was at the bottom of her mind as she worried she was going to get fired on her first day.

if she wanted to get into her dream school, there were things she needed to do to get there, and having an internship with a national team was for sure to impress the admissions office.

she swung open the door, only to walk straight into a body.

"oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," she let out, realizing as she spilled the coffee in his hand, all over him.

the boy, who marley recognized as a boy who went to plymouth high, seemed annoyed as he rubbed off the liquid spilled on him, opening his mouth to say something but ultimately stopping when he realized who it was. it was a girl. a pretty girl at that. a girl who jack had called 'dibs' on since he spotted her in the hallway on his first day.

marley could see his eyes soften as he innocently smirked

"if I didn't know any better, I would say that this is the beginning of our rom-com"

that was the last thing she thought was going to come out of his mouth. she blushed pink before nervously letting out a laugh. the girl had never met a guy so... sure of himself. it was honestly so attractive.

she shook off the thought as she remembered she was late,

"I'm so sorry about your coffee, but I really have to go," she said, rushing past him.

not realizing the boy's blue eyes didn't leave her figure as it disappeared into the hallway. mad at himself for not introducing himself to her.

#jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey fic #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #hughes brothers #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes fic

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decolonize-the-everything · 7 months

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Full article under the cut

"The United Nations’ top court on Monday heard a final day of arguments on the legality of Israel’s decades-long occupation of Palestinian territories, proceedings that have added pressure to Israel at a time when attention focuses on the war in Gaza. The hearings, which began last Monday, were the first time that the court, the International Court of Justice, had been asked to detail the legal consequences of Israel’s “prolonged occupation, settlement and annexation” of the territories, including the West Bank and East Jerusalem, since 1967 — issues that have been the subject of years of debate and resolutions at the United Nations. The U.N. General Assembly asked the court to give an advisory opinion. Judge Nawab Salam, the president of the court, ended the hearings saying that the judges’ conclusions would be announced at a public hearing. The conclusions were expected to take at least six months, lawyers at the court said." The sessions, held at the Peace Palace in The Hague, heard from representatives of more than 50 countries, an unusually high number for the court. Most sided with the Palestinian representatives, who argued that Israel had long abused Palestinian rights with impunity and denied their right to self-determination.

“Israel has arrogated to itself the right to decide who owns land, who may live on it, how it is used,” Philippe Sands, a member of the Palestinian delegation’s legal team, argued last week. “It has confined Palestinians to enclaves,” he added, and broken up its territory with hundreds of settlements “regarded as a permanent part of Israel.” Israel did not appear at the hearings, but, in a written submission, it rejected the questions raised by the proceedings as biased.

The proceedings have been given urgency by Israel’s war against Hamas in the Gaza Strip. Health authorities in Gaza say that Israel’s military campaign has killed more than 29,000 people, the majority civilians, and provoked what the United Nations says is a humanitarian disaster. Since the war began, Israeli forces have also detained hundreds of Palestinians in West Bank raids. Deadly violence against Palestinians by Israeli settlers has increased and Palestinian attacks on Israelis have also risen.

A few speakers at the court, including those from the United States, Britain and Hungary, have sided with Israel. On Wednesday, a State Department official argued before the court that Israel’s policies toward the Palestinians were determined by its “very real security needs.” But Israel’s campaign in Gaza has presented a dilemma to President Biden’s administration, which has continued to supply Israel with military aid while expressing growing concern over the treatment of Palestinians. Mr. Biden has said that Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government has been “over the top” in its conduct of the war in Gaza. And on Friday, Secretary of State Antony J. Blinken said that the American government was reversing a Trump administration policy and would now consider new Israeli settlements in Palestinian territories to be “inconsistent with international law.”

#icj hearing #palestine #6 months is bs wtf #....so theyre complicit and every institution we have is worthless and needs to be overthrown. cool.

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sharkiethrts · 3 months

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hi! speaking of ur modern sunday…i’d like to request sunday x reader, where reader is absent because they’re sick and sunday just spends the entire day trying not to mope before he visits them. just smth rlly silly where he’s on student council etc having to try to subtly text his s/o.

robin is kind of over him but who cares‼️

prompt: highschool!au reader is sick and responsibility ridden Sunday must ensure that the assembly goes on without a hitch, despite his worries for her.

warning: none.

relationships: modern!sunday x gender neutral!reader (highschool!au)

author’s note: so sorry for the late response! I was eagerly awaiting for the day when I can finally work on this! :) (Two more exams to go, exams should end by Friday. Wish me luck!)

This is also not reread and is posted late at night, so do forgive me for any type of grammatical or spelling mistakes or if the pacing of the story is too rushed!

- Highschool au! Sunday is so obviously the president of the student council

- He is popular among everyone and when it was announced that he was running for president, everyone accepted defeat and simply resorted for vice presidents and secretaries roles instead (the surplus of people that signed up for vice presidents that year were daunting, hoping for a chance to work closely alongside him)

- Prior to his appointment as president (which he was rightfully confident in winning), he had always made sure to spend time with you after school (even going as far as to not sign up to any clubs for the michaelmas term after you jokingly chastised him for ‘prioritising Mrs Burns, TA of the reading club’ instead of you)

- However, post appointment Sunday found it difficult to make compromises like so, much to his chagrin- with the added rewards, the necessary expectations would naturally accompany and hence his dilemma:

- Oh, how the thought of you ailed with a cold squeezes his heart so, his hand itching towards his phone every second

- He’s sure that his composure will fall soon and that it’d only be a matter of time

“Please ensure that the seventh up until the twentieth seats are marked, it’s reserved for the parents visiting today,” Sunday reminds the flushed boy, clearly not used to the responsibility he is expected to conform to and although Sunday attempts to maintain a composed facade throughout, it’d be a lie to say that he isn’t positively frustrated by how incredibly slow he is. Seriously, the drink aisle should clearly be placed inside the auditorium, not outside. It’s summer for goodness sake, by the time the guests arrive, the drinks will be diluted with ice and the honey would have been completely dissipated.

Speaking of honey, perhaps he should consider saving some for you. The Manuka honey booked specially for this occasion is known for doing wonders for your throat. Perhaps he should ask kitchen staff to pack a bottle or two for him? They quite adore him so, it shouldn’t be difficult for him to ask for a favour or two of this size. Interrupting his train of thought, it seems that the incompetent boy couldn’t stand having a supervising eye off him for even a second. Sunday watched in controlled horror as he dropped a tray or two, effectively denting the sides of the perfect sliver.

“Miss Amelie,” Sunday calls, his hand reaching for the back of the boy’s waist, helping him up, “Help him with relocating the treats, we can’t have dented sliver wares front and centre in the room.”

The said girl quickly arrives, her head down and stressed, “I’ll tell him what to do, don’t worry-“

“-I should hope that this predicament ends soon, I do have quite a few appointments to attend to,” Sunday cuts her off coldly, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. It’s not uncommon for Sunday to become cold at times, if not outright off putting. With uneducated rumours of his OCD and what not. However, it seems that this doesn’t seem to be one of his tangents, rather, he seems… occupied.

Sunday mulls over the thought of your upset face, further dampening his mood. How incredibly horrible of him, despite his previous talks of marriage with you during your late night calls- he only feels more incompetent and ineligible for the title of husband. He’s not only inattentive but outright unsupportive. What type of boyfriend who asks for your hand in marriage would leave you all alone in your bed fighting a cold alone? His frown deepens and he catches a few of the volunteers flinch due to it, clearly worried that they may have triggered him somehow.

He flashes them a friendly smile, to which he sees them relax slightly to before tending to their duties quickly.

While making haste with the decorations and reading over the script he had prepared for the following speech (god forbid he reads off a script, it’s one his many pet peeves and he is not willing to entertain the thought of slacking off in his chase for perfection), he thinks of your voice when you had greeted him this morning via phone call. Despite your obviously tired disposition, you had taken the initiative to call him to motivate him for the following day, you seem to know him well enough to realise his unending infatuation with your voice (how embarrassing for him but he’s far too touched to care for it for now).

Despite your well wishes and intentions, the phone call left him with more guilt and worries than assurance.

‘I’m fine’, you had insisted, saying that you had managed to snack on cut apples for breakfast.

By the moment Sunday snaps out of his thoughts, he notices a crinkle at the side of the paper where his thumb laid.

He’s not composed at all.

“ Sunday?”

By the time the clock struck ten and the assembly had concluded, Sunday took it upon himself to rent a bike at a nearby bus stop rather than waiting for his driver, hoping to make a quick detour to your house instead (his adoptive father would never have allowed him to do so). He had recognised your address from your first date, where he dropped you off by your neighbour’s house to prevent you from getting teased by your parents (you had insisted and he obliged). Your mother was there to greet him by the door, clearly whiplashed by the sight of a disconcerted, red faced handsome boy standing at her front door. She quickly flashes him a look of familiarity, to which he feels happy at (you must have shown your mother pictures of him, his ears redden at the thought).

He could only hope that you showed her the good ones and that despite your mischievous peculiarity, you’d care enough to help him make a good impression.

“You look much handsome in real life,” Your mother comments when he enters.

Never-mind. You definitely took it upon yourself to show her the worst ones. He could only pray that they don’t include his baby features, where his bangs were chopped short, “I apologise for coming so late, I came as soon as the assembly had finished-“

“- I understand,” Your mother chuckles, “I’m more impressed that a teenage boy would make so much effort to care for a partner with a flu when it’s so close to midnight,” She hands him a glass of warm water, urging him to walk up the stairs to your room, “They’d heal in no time after all.”

He shakes his head decisively, “That’d be an unfitting behaviour for a husband.”

The once vibrant mood turned quiet in no time and realising what he had said, his cheeks flushed a vibrant red and his ears burned incessantly.

Your mother watches him with shell shocked expression, thankfully the glass had been on Sunday’s hand at this point, judging by how her hand had loosened immediately he had blurted the words out, the glass would have been on the floor otherwise. Which would have been unsightly for a first impression.

“SUNDAY!”

He hears your familiar yell, clearly happening upon his arrival and his words.

He had planned to scold you for your misdemeanours (showing your mother terrible pictures of him) but it seems that he had committed a far graver crime than you did: an impromptu proposal at hours so close to midnight.

“… I sincerely apologise. Please pretend you didn’t hear anything.”

Sunday wishes for the concrete floors to eat him alive.

#honkai star rail #sunday hsr #sunday x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #sunday headcanons #modern au! sunday #modern soft! sunday #soft!sunday

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webslingingslasher · 1 year

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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.

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #mcu!peter x reader #frat!peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker blurb #tasm!peter x you #my writing

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peachenle · 2 years

Text

captain’s log

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: college!au | fratboy!au | sexual themes (minors DNI)

word count: 8.7k

warnings: lots of drinking, profanity, a tiny bit of sexual content, suggestive language, sunghoon biceps, y/n is a serial party-goer, fake frats, lots of semi-unhumorous banter, ft le sserafim bc i needed more characters

༄࿔˚✧ synopsis: “If you’re trying to be subtle about checking me out, it’s really not working.” You were too drunk to care, and met his eyes, “Yeah, yeah you caught me. Life’s more fun without subtlety.”

The captain's log is a form of record-keeping used by sailors to keep track of incidents, such as weather, ship sightings, and any other information about the vessel and her passengers.

CAPTAIN’S LOG ENTRY 11:30 pm please I beg of a crumb of pussy

read the continuation of captain’s log here.

It took you approximately 46 seconds to sober up after the first whoop of the sirens outside the house. Red and blue lights peeked through the cardboard panels that were haphazardly stuck in between the blinds of the windows. From the continuing booming music, the thundering steps of the dance floor, and the bumping bodies, you realized you were one of very few to realize that the party was getting rolled. And you did not want to be caught in the mess of policemen shining flashlights into mascara stained faces.

You dragged your friend Yunjin out from the middle of the dance floor, much to her disappointment as she was swaying with one of the execs in the fraternity, and snuck onto the back porch. You two stumbled into a few couples who also had their fun interrupted by the sirens. Yunjin peeked around the side of the house and groaned, “It’s always the NKT parties that get shut down so early. Heeseung and I were finally dancing!”

Seeing her pouty face, you laughed, “And he’s literally the only reason we keep coming back. Their good music cannot justify the sins that occur in that household.” While NKT had some of the wildest hazing stories, their alumni donated well to your university, so it was easy to overlook.

You and Yunjin were crouched by a bush in the house’s side yard. She whispered, “Liar, you were so into President Jeno before…”

You snickered and responded, “Okay, and I still am, but he never comes to parties anymore. Plus, you did not just call him president.”

She laughed. “That’s who he is!”

The music shut off abruptly and you rolled your eyes after hearing screams from the partygoers. That meant most of the officers were likely already in the house yelling at kids to leave, so you and Yunjin quietly went through the side fence of the house to make it into the street.

Frat row wasn’t too far from your shared dorm with Yunjin, so you two opted to trudge through the neighborhood in your short skirts rather than call a taxi. It wasn’t until your head hit the pillow that you realized you were still very drunk. The you of tomorrow morning would not be happy.

Parties weren’t your thing until Yunjin joined a sorority this year and dragged you to come to a few, and you realized just how fun it was to be the messy one for once. You thought this was her way of trying to lull you into her sisterhood, and whether it actually was or not, you didn’t mind. It was funny to watch the unknowing first year frat pledges hit you with all sorts of philanthropy collab ideas at parties after you lied and introduced yourself as the president or outreach chair of some random sorority.

The next day, a Friday, you woke up with a throbbing migraine and with leftover eyeliner smudged on your pillow. You definitely missed your 10 am tutorial. Much to your surprise, you found Yunjin already awake, typing away at her desk, equipped with a sheet mask. She, too, missed her morning class.

After you returned from a shower, you called out to your roommate, “Wanna hit the dining hall for-” you looked at the clock, showing a valid 12:11pm at this point “-for lunch?”

Yunjin did not bother to look away from her laptop, “Can’t! But can you get me a sandwich or something? I have this killer paper due and I need to finish it before we go out tomorrow.”

You stared at her blankly, not that she would be able to see it, “What do you mean go out? Again?”

She stopped, “Why are you acting surprised?”

“I just assumed you’d want to go out with your sisters or something.”

“You know I prefer you,” she pointed a finger gun at you dramatically, “and you can’t admit that to anyone or else we’d both die. Also, this is a homecoming party of a frat house neither of us have been to yet! I don’t want to miss out.”

You thought about the long week ahead of you as you shoveled food onto your plate. You forgot to ask where Yunjin was planning on taking you, but it mattered less in comparison to the assignments you wanted to get ahead on before the weekend’s festivities took you completely. While you were wrapping up a sandwich and some food for Yunjin, as if on cue, she texted you.

you remember that Heeseung is in the hockey club right? he just invited us to a party at their house tonight … come thru?

“I think you have a problem, another weekend like this and you’re going to have to pay for my liver transplant,” you said to Yunjin when you returned.

She stuck her tongue at you and threw a crop top your way, “Take this as a gift in return for the food! And you’ll be wearing it tonight, thank you very much.”

---

Midterm season was upon you and with the addition of a frat-not-frat sanctioned event courtesy of Yunjin, you needed to get as much work done as possible. You made a deal with yourself that you’d complete at least one of two of your pending report papers, otherwise, no new frat homecoming party tomorrow.

You managed to find a table by the south side windows of the science library, and laid out your necessary notebook and textbook for the treacherous anthropology report you were about to bullshit the hell out of. Two hours into your frantic typing and at least 30 Google tabs later, you realized that one of the sources you wanted to use was locked online, and all the “legal” databases to surpass the paywall didn't have it available. Upon closer inspection, the source’s website indicated that it was available at certain universities, including yours.

You decided to take a break from typing. Your lingering hangover and the eye strain from your laptop screen were begging for a rest. So you cleaned your table and went to find someone to help you find the book you needed.

There was a crowd of 4 boys around the circulation desk, cackling over things unknown to you, and definitely distracting the boy working at the counter. They were exuding mischief, one of them trying to reach over to clack on a computer, and you recognized the one of them, Jake, jumping to sit on top of the counter. You stood in line, scrolling through your phone as you waited to be called to get help.

The areas of the library where the IT and circ desk were not necessarily meant to be quiet places, but you were surprised the group of boys didn’t get scolded considering how they were holding up the line.

A student walked by and shushed the group, interrupting them as they were doing their best to ruffle the boy’s hair over the counter. They scoffed at the passerby, but lowered their voices. You took this as an opportunity to clear your throat, finally grabbing the attention of the circ desk worker. He offered you a sheepish smile and shooed away his friends. The boy was about a head taller than you, sporting a black distressed long sleeve and now haphazardly messy hair.

“Oh, sorry babe - didn’t see you there,” snickered one of the boys. He had sharp features and a confident smirk. The group stepped backward to let you through to the counter.

The boy behind the counter shot the other guy a glare after that comment and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry about my friends; how can I help you?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes and shoot a glare yourself, choosing to ignore the group. “Seems like you're new here or something. They seem to be excited to visit you.” You glanced pointedly, as two of the guys had their phones out, likely taking a picture of their friend.

The boy extended a hand out to try to cover his exasperated face from their photos.

You continued, holding up your phone to reveal a screenshot from the library website, “Wondering if this book was still available?” The boy squinted and nodded silently, typing away on his computer to look it up.

“Yeah, it is. We have one copy on the 4th floor. Are you familiar with how the books are sorted here?”

“Honestly no, I usually use stuff online, so this would be the first time I check out something from the library.”

The boy smiled in understanding, then glanced between you, his friends - now distracted by a couple girls you recognized from Yunjin’s sorority, and the empty line behind you. “I can help you find it, if you’d like?”

You gave him a small smile, “Yes, that’d be really helpful.”

“Sunghoon, by the way. And you were right, it's technically my first day off of training,” he said as he met you on the other side of the counter, by the elevators. Seeing him up close, there was no point in denying that he was cute, especially with the furrow in his brow he wore due to the thought of his friends. His friend group were still talking to the girls, one of them with an arm shamelessly around one of their waists. Sunghoon looked exhausted, but amused, just looking at them.

You laughed as you introduced yourself too. “Don’t worry, I get it. My roommate ate at my old part-time job every day I was working for the first month. Just try not to let them get you fired,” you advised jokingly.

The conversation between Sunghoon and you flowed smoothly. Over hushed whispers through the library shelves, you learned he transferred to your university that semester, and was studying Kinesiology.

“It’s kind of a jock major, I was surprised,” he muttered as he ran his fingers over the spines of some books, turning his head sideways to read the titles.

You frowned, “Why? You don’t play sports?”

“It’s not that, I just wasn’t expecting to have to take activity classes. It’s like high school P.E. all over again.”

Even though he was matching the library volume, Sunghoon was soft spoken, and he was funny without trying. You explained how you were studying Human Biology with a minor in anthropology, and he picked at your brain about the paper you were writing.

“No, Sunghoon, sociology and anthro are not the same.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Wait really? I took a socio class before and it’s literally what you’re describing.”

“I think you should stick to your kines classes.”

Sunghoon hummed. “We’d probably take some physio classes together, I reckon?” He suggested, realizing the science similarities in your degrees.

“Oh! Yeah, you’re right.” Judging on how well you two were talking even in this short amount of time, you added, “Maybe we can study together or something.”

A pause.

Sunghoon was distracted, squinted behind you at something. You bit your lip to try to ignore the disappointed pang in your chest and your internal facepalm for trying to make a pass at the cute boy from the circ desk. Following his gaze, you realized that he had found the book you two were looking for.

Your mild small talk continued during the walk back to the circ desk, and you exchanged goodbyes after he assisted in checking out the book for you, his group of friends no longer in sight.

“Hope I’ll see you around,” Sunghoon waved.

You spent the rest of the afternoon holed up at your desk in your dorm room, typing, flipping through pages, and blasting audible adderall playlists out loud. And from the corner of your eye, you could see that Yunjin was doing the exact same.

The two of you finished around the same time, and decided to bring food from the dining hall into your dorm to eat while you and a couple of Yunjin’s sisters pregamed for the night. You decided to omit your encounter with a cute boy in the library while you guys were discussing your afternoons.

Yunjin was laughing, “We were literally so crazy, rapid fire typing next to each other while Y/N’s stupid Mario Kart songs were playing.”

Mouth full with pizza, you argued, “Don’t act like that music didn’t help us finish our papers. This could’ve been avoided, but you want to drink at every opportunity possible.”

She mocked your tone, “Don’t act like you don’t feel the same!”

The other girls, Chaewon and Kazuha, giggled at your dynamic, and poured everyone another round of shots.

---

The hockey club was basically a fraternity of its own, Chaewon explained to you as you all arrived, just less exclusive. It was a place for brothers in different frats to have their own camaraderie between each other, and their parties were open to anyone. You could feel the vibrations of the music’s bass in your ribcage.

As you three pushed through the crowd into the kitchen, Yunjin off to find Heeseung, Kazuha pitched in, “I heard one of the players that just graduated agreed to supply all the alc tonight.” You stared at the tubs of jungle juice and the tens of lingering bottles on the back counter. Even the sink was filled with beers and seltzers.

“He must be fucking rich,” Chaewon yelled over the music.

“Mark definitely comes from a wealthy family,” shouted a voice next to you. You turned and realized it was a boy from the library, one of Sunghoon’s friends. He smiled, and leaned in closer to make sure you heard each other, “Library, right?”

You did your best to ignore the two piercing stares behind your head from your girl friends, and nodded. He was dressed in a sailors outfit, white yacht cap and all. You could smell the whiskey from his breath.

“Jay,” he extended a hand to each of your friends and flashed Chaewon the same confident smirk you saw at the library. “Would you all like a drink?”

“Y/N.” You shook his hand and despite the alcohol flowing in your veins, you replied, “I think we know better to not accept drinks from strangers.”

He teasingly frowned, “Hey, we’re on a first name basis; I’d think we’re at least friends now. Right?”

Chaewon gently nudged you with her elbow, sending you a hint. “Surprise us,” she said.

You took a deep breath before downing the cocktail Jay put together, a mix of coke and Hennessey. Mark, whoever he was, really was rich.

Safe to say it was just you and Kazuha left for this part of the night; you didn’t mind when your friends found boys to dance with, there was plenty of alcohol and music for you to have fun yourself. At some point in the night, Chaewon wove herself back through the crowd to find you two, her hair a little displaced and more intoxicated than you last saw her. She brushed it off as “It’s hot in here!” even though you caught a glimpse of her following a boy in a yacht cap. You left the dance floor to find the bathroom, heading to the front of the house where you saw a line of people before.

The music was quieter here, though the front of the house was still crowded with people cheering and laughing, at least you felt like you could hear your own thoughts again.

You cringed seeing the line of people all waiting for the bathroom. Desperately, you looked around a couple hallways for another open bathroom, but all other doors and staircases in the house sectioned off with caution tape. There were too many drinks in your body, you had to go.

“Now it looks like you’re the one new here.”

You turned around to meet eyes with Sunghoon’s neck, he was awfully close. He took a half step back upon seeing your surprised eyes, but gave you a smile.

“I didn’t know you were in the hockey club?”

“I know the guys - a bunch of jocks in my classes, remember?” Sunghoon looked more relaxed. His outfit looked identical to Jay’s, also sporting the yacht hat. You could see that his hair was now styled and less messy than what you had seen in the library earlier. And considering the heat of the house and your own sweat that clung to your forehead, you were surprised to still catch a whiff of his cologne. His white shirt was loosely buttoned, revealing several inches of his chest, his skin smooth. Sunghoon leaned down to whisper, “If you’re trying to be subtle about checking me out, it’s really not working.” He smelled strongly of coconut rum, explaining his boldness.

You were too drunk to care, and looked him right in his eyes, “Yeah, yeah you caught me. Life’s more fun without subtlety.” You grinned, “So what’s with the outfits?”

“The boys wanted to match, Naughty Nautical was their wording,” he shook his head with a smile. He noticed the quirk of your eyebrow, “and no, I’m still not on the team.” Sunghoon motioned to a long strip of poster paper hanging on a wall by a clock near the stairs. He pulled you towards it to get a better look at what was written. “You didn’t see the ship decor?”

---

CAPTAIN’S LOG

10:05 pm - You must refer to each player as Captain or Sailor tonight, or you will be kicked out.

10:06 pm - HOUSE SHOT

10:07 - TEAM SHOT

10:10 - LADIES SHOT HAHA

10:32 - Tri Delt is here!! <3 :)

10:33p who asked -Heeseung BRUH LMAO -jake

10:46 - HOUSE SHOT NUMBER IDK :D

10:52PM - ur gonna regret letting the freshman riki in >:)

10:58 pm - Riki just ate shit on the stairs -JW

11:12 pm - FUCK I MISSED 11:11, but I still wish for pu$$y

11:20pm - LOL Same.

11:23 pm- i a m drunk ..

11:30 pm please I beg of a crumb of puss for my boy Jay please add him on snap here: jjongseong420

You reach over to scribble something on the log too.

12:34 AM - where is the bathroom

Sunghoon laughed and offered a hand for you to take. You were surprised that his fingers intertwined with yours, Am I about to get laid tonight? you drunkenly thought to yourself.

Sunghoon lifted a strip of caution tape for you to duck your head under first, before following suit himself. You let go of his hand to grip the stairs’ side rail and heard him stifle a laugh or two behind you as you stumbled up. The first bathroom you two encountered was unlocked and you quickly shut it as soon as you opened it. You clenched your eyes and paused for a second to convince yourself that you did not just witness your best friend’s naked limbs woven between those of the frat boy she’s been talking about for the past couple of days.

Sunghoon didn’t take the hint and laughed out loud, “Holy shit, was that Heeseung?”

“I think I’ll need another drink after that. Maybe a whole bottle.” Sunghoon kept laughing at that.

After finding an actual available bathroom, you found Sunghoon waiting for you, typing on his phone with one hand, and carrying an unopened bottle of Malibu in the other.

“Ask and you shall receive,” he smiled, raising the bottle when he noticed you stepped out.

Your eyes widened, “Jesus, I didn’t mean I wanted to actually drink a whole bottle.”

“No, stupid,” Sunghoon chuckled. He was certainly more playful when he was drunk. “I was going to share this with you, and offer you to take the rest home.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. “Well, at least you chose my favorite.” Your hearing was a bit muffled after making it somewhere where the beats of the songs didn’t ring your eardrums. “This house is nice enough to have a balcony somewhere, right?”

Sunghoon nodded, “Follow me.”

The balcony was accessed through one of the bedrooms down the hall, you stared at the width of Sunghoon’s shoulders as you walked behind him. You didn’t say much as you two sat on the bench outside, overlooking the front yard. There were other patrons loitering outside, a beer pong table set up, and a couple or two making out by the fences. The midnight breeze lightly shook the branches within your reach.

Sunghoon was pretty much a stranger for all you knew, yet you didn’t mind letting him take you through the house. At least he was a very cute stranger, he seemed different from the other boys you’ve met at parties so far. By now, considering you two had been alone for a while, any other boy would probably have tried to stick his tongue in your mouth. And yet, the conversation continued as smoothly as before, or well as smoothly as a pair of intoxicated students could manage. Sunghoon talked about a story or two about some of his friends, and you told him about why you chose to pursue your minor in addition to medicine.

“It’s just fun to get away from the quantitative stuff, and learn more about the human experience,” you babbled. “I want to apply to this abroad program in Prague, where you spend 2 weeks on an archeology site.”

Sunghoon stared at you, amused, “It’s kind of ironic that you wanna dig up dead bodies, while learning how to treat live ones.”

You bumped his shoulder with yours, and watched as Sunghoon took a couple more swigs right from the bottle before offering it to you, letting his fingers graze yours for a couple seconds too long. You could still feel the rage of the party downstairs, and you found it nice to be away from the center of it.

“So, do you at least play hockey with them? Or is your friendship with the team solely professional and from class?”

Sunghoon smiled, “No, not a hockey person. We’re solely transactional, I do well on our group projects, and they give me free alc.”

You nodded, seemed reasonable to you.

He made a face at how you accepted that so quickly, “But no, yeah, I also help them train. I’m an assistant coach on the side? At the rink downtown?”

“I know our hockey team is mostly composed of skinny boys, which is already unusual… But you?” Your eyes traced down his slim figure, “A coach?”

He poked your forehead, “Hey, I know my way around a puck better than half those guys. But nah, I figure skate. Help kids break into their first set of skates. But with the team, it’s usually to help with movement, speed training.”

“Damn, I didn’t think you could get any hotter,” you blurted out, honestly surprised. Usually you’d feel at least some regret admitting that, but the way Sunghoon’s ears burned red? Priceless.

“It’s not something I really admit; I got teased a bit before I got close to the guys. Had to score a couple goals against those bastards before I got them to admit a triple axel was cooler than any dekes they’ve learned.” He smiled faintly.

“You finished your paper, yeah?” You let him change the subject a couple beats later.

“Yup, that book really helped.” Sunghoon lulled his head around with the faint music, “I was just cruising right after we found it.”

“Hmm, I feel like I deserve a reward for helping you.” You know what, maybe you were a bit wrong about Sunghoon. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he didn’t seem that soft spoken as when you met him earlier that day. You were suddenly aware of how much his leg burned against yours.

“I mean, I can think of some ways,” you slurred, the liquid confidence drawing out each syllable, the words leaving your mouth before you could think of the cringe it would cause you the next morning. Sunghoon was unabashedly staring at your lips and you couldn’t resist yourself from smiling. Maybe he wasn’t so different, but you didn’t mind.

It was he who made the first move, his hand pressing lightly on your thigh as he leaned towards you. You fluttered your eyes shut, fully anticipating his lips against yours, only to open your eyes in confusion a few seconds later after nothing. He was biting his lip to not burst out laughing, his hand now stroking the top of your thigh. “Sorry, I just- it’s fun to tease.”

You squinted your eyes at him, and pulled his hand off your thigh. His eyes widened as you moved to straddle him, the poor bottle of Malibu tipping over to flavor the balcony with coconut. “Try to tease me again and you’ll see.”

Any ounce of his playfulness was erased, one hand rushing to grab your hip and the other reaching for the side of your face. He sealed his lips over yours and you eagerly tangled your fingers in his hair, knocking over his stupid boat captain hat.

You felt his tongue press into your mouth and you let him in, your lips moving messily against his. You let out a groan as his hips grinded underneath you and you felt him smile.

You held onto a shoulder and one of his biceps, feeling it tense as he pushed your ass further down onto him. His other hand moved from your jaw to the front of your neck and you let out a loud whine; this time Sunghoon pulled away with a short chuckle, cocky as hell, whispering, “Be careful. The people under the balcony might hear you.”

“Jeez, Sunghoon, are you an exhibitionist or something?” You teased.

His fingers, now brushing the front of your throat. Under the dim light of the moonlight you could see the swell of Sunghoon’s parted lips. He playfully rolled his eyes and scoffed, but said nothing.

You smirked and continued, “I only want you to hear.” And you swore you felt Sunghoon throb under you.

He picked you up, which seemed easy for him, given his arms, and carried you back into the bedroom - whose ever it was. He reconnected your lips, a hand sliding underneath your skirt as soon as your back hit the sheets of the bed. You pushed him off for a second, your hands clumsily reaching for the buttons of his shirt, eager to feel what was underneath. He watched as you traced your hands up his now bare chest, and you pulled him back in. He pulled the strap of your tank down, exposing more of you as he traced his lips, then his tongue, down your skin. You felt the graze of his teeth and you drew in a sharp breath.

Though you had to help him with the clasp of your bra with a giggle from you and a shut up from him, his tongue moved expertly over your chest. Sunghoon’s other hand pressing into you over your panties, and as he began to tug on them to free you, you couldn’t help but push your hips up to rush him, eager for his touch.

And as you felt his fingers slip inside of you, the door swung open, another busy pair of bodies stumbling towards the bed. And, obviously in the darkness, you screamed, but so did Sunghoon. And so did the other couple. “Wait… Sunghoon?” The guy said, his voice sounding surprised and almost proud?

Surely you couldn’t show your face at the hockey house anymore after this, you thought to yourself as you hurriedly clothed yourself, thankful you were only topless.

It was your first time getting walked in on, and considering what you witnessed earlier that night, at least you and Yunjin had a common story to laugh about tomorrow morn- err afternoon. After pushing out of the bedroom, Sunghoon, however, was still burning red, maybe from the alcohol, but also the embarrassment. You laughed as you poked his cheeks.

“Well, I guess you should be out there with your friends, doing keg stands or something?” You asked.

He chuckled too, thankful you were nonchalant about everything, and leaned down to kiss you again. His lips were gentle this time, and still sweet from the liquor. He held your hand as you headed down the stairs together. Your activities sobered you up so you two headed to the kitchen for more fuel, finding Yunjin and the other girls. After a couple more drinks with your girls, you didn’t even notice that Sunghoon had left your side at some point. Craning your neck over the still plenty of dancing bodies, you frowned, unable to see his tall self.

Yunjin noticed your disappointment, side eyeing the crowd as well. “Who was that guy you came down with?”

“Just met him today, he’s no one I guess.”

---

CAPTAIN’S LOG

1:32a WHO TOOK MY FUCKING LEFT SHOE -yangyang :(

1:40am - I have a small peen -jisung (Delta Rho Pledge Class)

2:02a - LOL YO SUNGHOON VIRGINITY IS NO MORE! VIRGIN

2:20am - ^ NO FUCKIN WAY HOON???

2:33 am - ^ IT WAS ME I TOOK IT LOL -JAKE

WAIT THE SHOE NOT THE VIRGINITY

---

And again, you and Yunjin opted for stumbling through the dark neighborhood back to the dorms instead of calling a cab, the other girls begrudgingly joining you.

Yunjin slurred, “I can’t wait for the morning recap later,” her body landing on her bed with a soft thud.

You giggled at the thought of it too, although you frowned at the memory of Sunghoon leaving you in the middle of the night. It wasn’t wrong of you to be disappointed that he didn't want to continue what you had started, right? You thought of your conversations throughout the night, and even in the morning when you had first met him, wondering if you said something wrong. You grumbled in bed, bothered by how he made you question yourself, even though he knew you for less than a day. Just another night at a party, you convinced yourself, before drifting to sleep.

You woke up nauseous, your instincts kicking you out of bed to run to the toilet. After seemingly endless minutes of gagging and thoughts of regret, you lifted your face out of the toilet to see Yunjin in the doorway, looking at you pointedly.

“Damn, you had fun,” you muttered, letting out a pained giggle after seeing the marks on her neck.

She scoffed, helping you up from the floor to stand behind you in the mirror. “Look at yourself.” While not as dark or as many as hers, you traced a finger where some red bruises were trailing your collar.

After a hot shower and plenty of water, you met up with the other girls at the dining hall for breakfast. Yunjin and Chaewon were obnoxiously laughing, recounting the story about some freshman tumbling down the stairs in a Sailor Moon costume.

Chaewon laughed, and paused to think. “I learned that I might not be into roleplay as much as I thought.”

“No…” You glanced around, looking out for any eavesdroppers.

“He kept the hat on and referred to himself as Captain before he went down on me.”

Yunjin gagged. “My biggest takeaway from last night? I guess, him… the biggest…”

It was your turn to gag.

The other girls continued to pry for more detail, and you got up to get some more water before they could pounce on you for your story. Your headache was pretty much gone at this point, but the nauseous feeling lingered. You spotted a boy with dark hair by the drink station and felt your nausea take a turn.

“Hey,” you gave Jake a small smile. He was in your major, so you had chatted with him a few times in some shared classes. “Was wondering if you knew how that freshman was doing?”

Jake turned and looked at you, and snorted as he tapped on his phone to bring up an image of the poor child, Riki, he told you was his name, tumbling down the stairs in a skirt. “The attention he’s getting from that is distracting him from his concussion.” He tapped again to show a Snapchat story of the boy himself, the tools of a hospital examination room behind him, with the caption i’m ok. “See you at the HYB house tonight? I’ll make sure there's enough Malibu,” he flashed you a vague smile and walked off.

You frowned as you made your way back to your table, eager stares from the girls. “My night was uneventful! My takeaway is that it is far more fun to dance with you guys, than to be off in the corner with some guy,” you stated as you sat down. It was true - hookups weren’t ever on your party itineraries. Kazuha and Chaewon cheered you for that, but you met your best friend’s eyes and knew she was going to spare you just this time.

Jake’s comment bugged you the rest of the meal and continued through the rest of the afternoon, as you tidied your room and finished a bit of schoolwork. Give it up for frat boys to talk about you as soon as you part ways.

Since there was always room for school work to be completed, you decided to squeeze in some time at your usual library spot. As you passed the circulation desk, you half-heartedly snuck a peek to check who was working. For better or for worse, not who you were looking for.

The rest of the afternoon was less eventful, no need for Mario Party music to help you get through the last bits of a paper. Tonight’s pregame squad was larger than last time’s, with the inclusion of Kazuha’s classmate Sunoo and his best friend, the villain of the other night, Riki.

Yunjin groaned, “Are you sure they’ll even let you in?” She gave you a look that screamed, can you believe this kid? And you just laughed because forcing beef with a freshman was not something you were expecting to see from her tonight.

Riki squinted at her, “I know you. And I’m closer to Heeseung-hyung than you think, so you better watch it.”

Yunjin cleared her throat, “Alright, fine, but if they close the door on your face? I’m not gonna turn back.” Riki faked a smile and continued to sip from his solo cup.

The rest of your friends were finishing their makeup, taking shots, and obnoxiously laughing. “You know,” Yunjin pulled you to the side, “You never explained who you were really with last night.”

“You know it’s a peeve of mine to share everything I do with boys.”

“Hey! I’m just wondering if I need to keep an eye out for someone, in a good or a bad way.”

“Park Sunghoon, another kines major and groupie of the hockey team.”

Yunjin nodded slowly, obvious she was wracking her brain through all her social circles to determine what she knew of him. “Newest HYB pledge. Transfer. Ridiculously good looking and a rare attendee of HYB events - he barely rushed but he got a bid because everyone liked him so much anyway.” She paused, “I’ll err on the side of red flag since he’s too incognito in Greek, but he’s hot so just have fun?”

“Not sure if I’m going to try to indulge in that again. Didn’t even know he was in the frat. He seemed… like he thought he was above that mentality.” Yunjin gave you a side-squeeze, and a couple more glugs of her vodka concoction into your cup.

“He sure as hell looks the part though. That’s what makes ‘em fun.”

The HYB house was larger than any frat home you’d stumbled your way into. It included a nice, curved driveway - now crowded with shivering bodies - and a stairway entrance. Several signs, - in the chic-est of spray paint on bedsheet - cursing out your university rival, lined the top floor’s windows. And much to your chagrin, considering the run-in you had today, you saw that Jake was one of the door guys.

Your friends were going over the plan on how to get Riki in, “They’ve been begging Sunoo to rush HYB, so if they come in a pair, surely they couldn’t turn him down,” Kazuha rationalized.

Chaewon was doubtful, “Boy doesn’t know his tolerance, they might see him as a liability.”

“Can’t you just pass the door guy a couple bills and call it a night?”

“Bitch, I’m literally broke. If they say no, I’ll just sneak in from the side.”

“Well, well, well.” Jake looked your group up and down with a smirk. “Now y’all look like a bunch of troublemakers. Wait,” his eyes locked onto Riki, who was (mind you, 6 ft tall) subtly hiding behind Sunoo. “You ladies can go in, but I’m gonna have to ask about the boys.”

Sunoo rolled his eyes, “Look, we brought three girls, surely the ratio will be fine.”

“Hey Sunoo, I’m jus-”

Yunjin pulled you into the house, and hissed “I said I would not look back and I meant it.”

You were astonished by the glory of the inside. The historic style of the outside contrasted with the dark and sleek minimalism of the inside. They had invested in Real Quality strobe lights and a dedicated raised platform for the DJ set. The girls reflected your awe just the same.

HAPPY HOMECOMING was spelled out in much nicer fashion, on poster paper rather than bedsheet, along the second floor ledge.

Due to the nature of the event, the kitchen - just as pristine and sleek as the front of the house - was filled to the brim with bottles and fiending students. Frat boys were behind the island dishing out drinks.

“Heeseung’s not coming?” You asked Yunjin.

She shook her head, “His frat’s having a party at their house too, but this house is far nicer so naturally I chose HYB.” And judging by the line you saw outside and the amount of bodies pressing against you, so did everyone else.

An older looking boy even introduced himself to your group, a sober safety bro as he said, and offered a hit of his vape.

You’d be lying if you said that the possibility of Sunghoon being here (which was at least 90%) didn’t kind of bother you. Even amidst the dance floor, your eyes did an occasional scan of the perimeter. If it was paranoia or hope, you couldn’t tell the difference. You saw your genetics TA, some girls from your dorm suite, and, wait, is that Riki helping out the DJ?

Even Chaewon noticed your scanning and shoved her cup in your face, a universal signal to chill out, and enjoy the night.

It was a good time for a refill. The crowd to get drinks was less packed, but still full enough to block your vision of who was pouring.

You were using your front camera to fix an eyelash before realizing you had made your way to the front. Your vision of your reflection was immediately replaced with the embarassed? expression of Sunghoon as soon as you put your phone down.

“What can I get for you?” He slightly yelled over the music.

“Rum and Coke,” You heard yourself stammer, and hoped it would be mistaken for a drunk stumble.

Sunghoon nodded. “Yes, mommy,” he visibly cringed as you blinked at him. “Ugh, sorry, the pledges have to call the girls that tonight.” He turned around to pour your drink. You, too, turned to look the other way.

If it was any other guy, you’d be laughing, but seeing him again made you feel awkward enough already. The addition of frat pledge hazing was NOT helping.

“Here you go,” Sunghoon passed you the cup. And you stared at the clear liquid inside.

“This isn’t-“

“It’s Malibu,” he said with a smile and turned to help the next person in line.

Your many drinks later helped soothe you to your normal self, enjoying the moment with closed eyes, swaying your body next to your friends’.

At some point you and Yunjin decided to take a break from the dance floor and explore the house. “Some of Heeseung’s bros are banned from this house so they asked for pictures,” she whispered, ungracefully taking pictures of semi-occupied hallways and rooms with flash. You were so embarrassed for her.

She snickered going through the ones she just took. “This photo is so creepy; there’s a guy just sitting in this room alone, like a stalker.” The irony zipped above her head.

You two began to make your way back to the action. The DJ was hyping up the house, the music stopped - getting everyone to chant profanities about your rival school. Yunjin quickly rejoined the crowds, leaving you to stroll in through the kitchen without her.

You watched the back of Sunghoon’s figure as he poured a drink for himself, then raised his cup with the rest of the party in a cheer. He was so good-looking, even from behind.

Your mind reeled, you two hooked up and surely anyone would be willing to continue what… (rather, who) didn’t finish, right? Maybe it was self indulging, maybe it was the alcohol, but you didn’t want to stop your gravitation towards him. It was past 2am, surely you waited long enough.

“Hey again,” you said simply, tapping him on the shoulder.

“Hello, mo- Oh. Hey, Y/N.” He sighed.

You withheld your cringe. “Didn’t know you were a pledge,” you half lied (You knew.. you just learned a few hours prior!).

You were thankful that the people coming into the kitchen for refills were grabbing beers, rather than asking for mixed drinks. Sunghoon’s avoiding eyes told you he felt differently.

“It’s still a new development to me.” He was being so awkward, unlike the ramble-y, giggling Sunghoon you were with less than 24 hours ago.

“Am I speaking to Park Sunghoon, or did I meet someone entirely different last night?” You blurted out.

He offered you a polite smile, “Sorry, I just don’t really know how to go about this.”

Oh god. He was going to give you a rejection speech - a babble about how one night is one night, and how he isn’t interested in anything more. Your heart panged, were you getting desperate? Sure, you met him only yesterday, but getting ghosted already - he barely gave you any time to even recover.

He took your hand to pull you to a quieter side of the room. “Alright, if you’re not interested anymore I get it, I’m an adult, you can be straight up.”

“No! It’s not that,” Sunghoon stared at your sleeve. “It’s just that I wasn’t sure how to act… hooking up with someone at a party isn’t at all my type of thing.”

You resisted to quirk your brow at Sunghoon-the-alleged-not-frat-bro, frat bro. He noticed you were waiting for him to continue.

“And you… seemed like the opposite. I thought that you’d probably just leave me behind, so I decided it best to leave first.”

“I go for the music, the chaos, not the boys,” you shook your head. “But, I was kind of confused that you didn’t want to… continue?”

“Sorry for abruptly leaving, I didn’t really know what to say. Plus we were already walked in on, the guys are like helicopters over pledges - they’ll figure out everything so I - I don’t know - wasn’t sure I wanted to involve you.” He scratched his head, “I wasn’t expecting you’d come try to talk to me again.”

“Wow, Park Sunghoon, woman respecter, protecting me from the frat boy gossip.” You quipped. “You failed by the way, Jake made a comment to me earlier.”

He rolled his eyes and groaned - “It’s because of that stupid captain’s log. You should see the rest of it - Jungwon documented everything I swear.” Sunghoon stopped to look at your blank face, “I’m not giving a good explanation, am I?”

You shrugged.

“Fine. Let me make it up to you.”

You thought to yourself, now am I getting laid?

Sunghoon intertwined his fingers with yours again and you followed behind him this time up the staircase. The HYB stairs were tile, far smoother than your unsteady walk could handle. Sunghoon laughed at you, “If you’re like this walking on land, I wonder how you’d be on figure skates.”

“Are you suggesting you’d want to see me in public and on skates? And not in the haze of a dingy frat party?” You feigned surprise.

Sunghoon snickered, “Hey, our house is the least dingy in all of Greek.” He smiled again, “And yeah, I’d be down to see you without an absurd amount of coconut rum.”

You ignored the sirens going off in your brain about getting more involved with someone unpredictable like him, Yunjin’s just have fun, echoing in your head.

He unlocked a room’s door, revealing a typical single, dark bed sheets matching dark curtains. You noticed a few trophies on a shelf. Sunghoon frantically picked up stray clothes, “Sorry I don’t really, bring people back.” He looked at you as you leaned against the door frame for support, “Wait. You’ve had way more drinks than I have. I think we should just watch a movie? I set up pretty good speakers, my surround sound is elite.”

You snorted, “Woman respecter, certified.” You removed your shoes and climbed into his bed. The soft sheets felt good against your skin, the spinning of the room felt more obvious with your new position. The bed dipped as Sunghoon joined next to you, equipped with his laptop. The sirens in your head went off again as he slid an arm under you, pulling your heavy head against his chest. He still smelled of cologne - a tinge of spilled orange juice and fruity smoke, clinging gently on his shirt. You were more conscious of how you smelled to him, of coconut and pure sweat, most likely. Sunghoon gently rested his head atop yours. Oh god, there was no way he wasn’t breathing you in now.

Sunghoon mumbled, “You okay? Need water?” He was aimlessly scrolling through his front page of Netflix. You shook your head, then laughed pointing out Megamind under his Watch It Again list. He sat up, trying to cover his other recommendations that were all along the line of family movies. “It was for nostalgia, okay!”

You wrestled with his arm, revealing more of his lists. “Monster House I can get behind, but Boss Baby? Really?” He wrestled back, before he closed his laptop, suppressing his own embarrassed laughter with fake seriousness. Sunghoon climbed on top of you, lightly pinning your wrists against his sheets.

“You talk mad shit for someone who told me they listen to Mario Party music unironically.” You gasped.

“I did not tell you that! Plus, I’d rather be caught listening to Mario KART music, than watching a movie about a baby in a suit.”

Judging by Sunghoon’s expression, you knew you won that argument. He continued, “I might have asked around about you.”

You smirked, “Stalker, are we?” Then you realized, how did other people know that about you?

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, and decided against a comeback. He dipped his head to seal his lips over yours. He let go of your wrists, opting to grasp your chin with one of his hands, as his other supported his weight above you. You eagerly moved your lips against his, sighing.

Shamelessly, you mumbled against his mouth, “Couldn’t stop thinking about this.” Your arms wrapped behind his neck, tugging him closer to you.

You felt Sunghoon’s shoulders stiffen, as your lips trailed downwards, eager to trace lines against his jaw again.

“Hey,” he whispered. Your hand followed down the front of his chest, prying at the edge of his collar. “Hey-,” Sunghoon repeated, louder. He let out a soft groan, before you pulled away, satisfied.

“What?” you whispered, exasperated.

“If this is all you want from me, I can’t do that.” He said seriously. “I don’t want to just hook up with you, plus you drank too much.”

You cleared your throat. He was right, though he was just as playful, he seemed quite sober. Sunghoon resumed, “I’d like to just spend time with you, but if you’re seeking something else - no hard feelings.” You saw a gentle pout along his lips. You heard him, but you couldn’t resist placing a kiss against that pout.

“No! I don’t just want to sleep with you…” You looked at him, maybe the sirens going off in your head were just a false alarm. “Just promise you won’t ditch me?”

You felt his neck burn up, if it wasn’t for the room barely being illuminated by his digital clock on the wall, you knew his face would be flushed red. “It’d be hard to leave, considering we’re literally in my room,” he joked. He placed a kiss on the side of your mouth before lying back next to you, his arm sliding back under your head.

You giggled as you watched him quickly scroll past his Netflix recommendations, instead pulling up the anime genre page.

Eventually agreeing on watching Saiki K, Sunghoon’s gentle shaking from his quiet laughter began to lull you to sleep. Your last thoughts before sleep consumed you was how sweaty you felt with Sunghoon’s body heating you up, how you forgot to text Yunjin back about your whereabouts, and how criminal it was for someone to still smell so damn good.

Those thoughts were also the first ones that came to you as morning struck.

Much to your surprise, your head didn’t hurt, probably thanks to the water Sunghoon basically force fed you during the second episode. His arm was still under you, but he was now turned to face you, his other arm lightly draped over your frame - effectively trapping you in his arms.

You weren’t complaining.

Slowly, and quietly, you slid your hand to grab your phone in your back pocket. The most recent text from Yunjin, wear protection xx, with a selfie of her and RIki making kissing faces at the camera. Looks like their beef was relieved, you couldn’t help but to laugh out loud.

Sunghoon dipped his face deeper into your hair and neck, with a soft groan as if to shut you up.

Panic set in. You had to get out of there and shower. It would be an absolute disservice to this gorgeous man to keep allowing him to breathe you in.

You tried to shake him awake, Sunghoon pulled you tighter. You blinked at the intimacy of it all, sure he almost had his fingers inside you the other night but this felt far closer. It was pulling at your heart strings.

“Hoon, wake up, I’m stinky.”

Sunghoon mumbled, “I don’t mind.”

“Gross… I have to get to class.”

“Liar, Yunjin told me you have afternoon classes today.”

“Yunjin?” That woke him up.

He slightly pulled away, “I might have… inquired.”

You couldn’t hold back a satisfied smile. “Wow, I’ve known you for a weekend. This has to be a new record for me.”

Sunghoon brushed a few hairs out of your face. “You know, we actually met at the club fair last month.”

You tilted your head in confusion, “No, there’s no way - I definitely would have remembered you.” It was his turn to grin.

He bit his lip, “Well, it was more like I signed your friend’s petition, but you were at the table too. I was with Jake, you two were going over a lecture. You were too engrossed in genes or whatever, so I guess you didn’t notice.”

You hummed, “That lecture was so bad… Jake and I shared notes that night.” You watched Sunghoon’s now shy expression. “So a month, huh?” Maybe Sunghoon was a green flag.

Sunghoon covered his face with a hand, then teased, “Don’t forget you were all over me last night, practically begging for me.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“No, I think you just can’t remember with all that alcohol you drank.”

You squinted at his smug face, “Shall we call a truce?”

“Only if you let me take you out tonight.”

Tracing a finger along his jaw, you whispered, “That sounds reasonable.”

He grinned, placing a kiss on your cheek before getting up out of bed.

“Alright, I’ll take you home. Lord knows someone needs a shower.”

You pulled him back in bed to try to smother him with a pillow. He escaped quickly, laughing at your attempt and opting to practically pick you up. Sunghoon held your hand, leading you out of the remnants of the HYB house, only letting go for a moment to open the car door for you.

His hand found its way a top your thigh as he drove towards your dorm.

When he parked, you grabbed his phone from the cupholder, holding it out so he could punch in his passcode. Sunghoon grinned as you sent yourself a text.

“I’ll pick you up at 6?” He offered.

You returned his smile with a chaste kiss, “See you then.”

#enhypen fanfic #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon #sunghoon imagines #peachenle fic #based on actual events by me except not park sunghoon unfortunately #4:50 am user peachenle writes a story when she should be asleep #these frats are fake dont come for me #also i know nothing of hockey #fic: cl

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