#the pizza came from roommates! they surprised me with a little party in the middle of my online lecture and i am so thankful

[starot]

late nights. flea markets. eclipse watching. turning 69 (22). dying my roommate's hair. looking up at the stars.

long time no post, so here's a little dump of what i've been up to! life's been coming fast, and i'm barely keeping up, but i'm 22 now can you believe it?

[luxekook]

prologue.

⇥ pairing: taehyung x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 1.8k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, kissing, deception, taehyung with blue hair (aka LETHAL)

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

PROLOGUE

Spring of Sophomore Year - 11:52pm

"If it gets any hotter in here, we'd need jackets to enter the fucking gates of Hades."

My stellar observation goes by unappreciated, but I'm not shocked. The music thumps heavily through the house at a deafening decibel and the only methods of communication are screaming or sign language - I had done neither.

Earlier, when my roommate Luna told me about this particular party, I had hesitations for several reasons:

This party is being held at the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) house - a house known for its wild parties, excessive drinking, and dangerously attractive brothers.

I am not a huge fan of the aforementioned features or the trouble that always seems to accompany them.

It's Harry Potter Weekend and I am going to miss the fucking Goblet of Fire for this.

Long story short, Luna convinced me to go with her with promises of pizza and our own Harry Potter marathon tomorrow. Her promises in mind, I square my shoulders and motion for Luna to follow me to the slightly quieter kitchen on the other side of the living room.

As we cross the crowded room, Luna tugs on my wrist and tilts her head subtly towards the corner where four very large, very attractive guys are playing a rowdy game of beer pong, while three (equally attractive) others lounge against the wall watching. Taking a closer look, I notice that the two at the far end of the table seem to be winning. The one with light pink hair takes his shot and curses loudly when he misses. Annoyed, the other shoves him out of the way, lines up to shoot, and pauses. Our eyes meet.

A shiver runs down my spine as his dark gaze rests on me. His jaw is clenched and chiseled, his lips are set firmly but wickedly full. His black t-shirt stretches over wide, solid shoulders and I can almost make out the muscles that ripple beneath. His right arm is still poised to take his shot, and I can't help but notice how his bicep strains the fabric of his sleeve and how his large, tanned hand completely dwarfs the pong ball.

I barely remember to breathe as I realize his gaze is making his own assessment of me. I can feel his dark eyes rake over me, and it makes my skin buzz. His eyes trail over my black crop top down to my ripped black jeans, and blatantly checks out my legs.

Suddenly, his pink-haired partner elbows him, shattering our little moment. Shakily taking a breath, I turn to Luna who has an eyebrow raised at me. She grabs my hand and practically drags me into the kitchen. I sip my drink and fight the urge to look back.

The minute we enter the mostly empty kitchen, Luna whips around to face me, "Were you just openly eye-fucking Kim Taehyung, (y/n)?" I choke on my beer.

"Who?" I croak, still coughing to clear my windpipe of what I'm certain is shitty Natty Light. Rolling her eyes, Luna shakes her head at me like a disappointed parent, "Kim Taehyung. You know, the pledge master for BTS? Was just with his frat brother Park Jimin?"

She pauses dramatically, seeming to be waiting for some kind of response. I stare at her blankly.

Scoffing, Luna continues, "They were the ones playing pong just now, dumbass. The blue-haired one is Taehyung. You know, the one you were mentally undressing-"

"Okay," I cut her off, "I'm sorry to say that I haven't paid much attention to the members of our 'legendary' fraternities."

Pretending like I never interrupted, she resumes, "-with your eyes. Everyone knows who they are. You just live under a rock that you call the library..."

I close my eyes and pray for deliverance as Luna trails off.

"Can I get you another drink?" A deep voice definitely not belonging to Luna breaks the short silence. Opening my eyes, my vision focuses on the voice's source – a cute BTS pledge. His eyes are focused entirely on Luna, who suddenly seems unnaturally shy. She sends me a searching look, and I nod in response. Smiling, she turns back to the boy, "Yeah, I'm Luna by the way, and this is (y/n)."

“Jaehyun," he answers, giving me a head tilt while placing a palm on Luna's back. He slowly guides her from the kitchen towards where the keg was in the living room. Sending a glance over her shoulder, Luna meets my eyes and I wave my phone at her as a silent reminder to update me. She winks and disappears into the living room.

Sighing, I lift myself onto the kitchen counter to give my feet some reprieve from these heeled boots and reapply my blood red lipstick using my phone camera. Satisfied, I check the time.

12:01am. Not nearly late enough for Luna to want to leave - especially now...

Suddenly, a now-familiar buzz sizzles across my skin. Drawing my gaze up from my phone, two unopened cans of beer held by long, strong fingers meet my vision. I drag my eyes up past thick wrists and corded arms. Up goes my gaze past flexed biceps, across a broad chest, and finally my eyes meet his.

He looms over me, all broad and imposing.

"Hey," his husky voice - just slightly deeper, raspier than Jaehyun's - murmurs, "I'm Taehyung. I brought this for you."

Taehyung's intimidating; his stare is direct and unwavering. Heat rolls off him in waves, and if this party was hotter than hell, that must make him the devil.

Our fingers brush as I accept his slightly outstretched offering, and I swear I would feel the reoccurring zings for the next week. "Hey, thank you. I'm, uh..." I trail off, Taehyung's dark eyes staring at me from this close make me seem to lose all power of speech. God, do eyes that color really exist? Apparently, they do – deep brown mixed with flecks of amber, hypnotizing.

I clear my throat and try to force my last two brain cells to work together, "I'm (y/n)."

He's smirking slightly now, the gesture pulling forth the cutest flush of pink in his cheeks, "Nice to meet you, (y/n)." And I swear he says my name like he's caressing it, tasting it for the first time.

Damn, he's unholy. Where is my snarky, inner bad bitch when I need her?

"Did you win your game? Seems like you might have been a little... distracted," I smirk, there she is. I crack open my beer and revel in the emitting hiss.

A flicker of heat bursts through those brown eyes as he leans closer still, enveloping me with his intoxicating cologne. He smells like autumn woods with a hint of fresh lemon; he smells like trouble.

Taehyung sets his beer down and places his arms on either side of me - caging me in. "Things were going just fine 'til this girl came strutting through the room in some tight fucking jeans," his tongue flicks over his lower lip, "So, yeah, you could say I got a little distracted."

"I do not strut," I object, narrowing my eyes at him - daring him to contradict me.

He's undeterred, "Yeah, you do, jagi." His eyes are full of mirth and he's clearly enjoying getting a reaction from me, "It's hot."

I bristle, unsure if I should accept that 'compliment' at face value, "Does this work on most girls? You know, the whole cornering her while you give her lame compliments thing?"

He looks surprised for a second, but then his head tilts back and he lets out one of the most endearing laughs I've ever heard - all unrestrained and unabashed pleasure.

Still chuckling, he tilts his head, eyes darting all over my face - lingering on my lips, "Where did you come from, (y/n)?"

Within seconds we're making out like unsupervised high school students, right in the middle of the damn kitchen. I let out an embarrassing moan when he bites my bottom lip then sucks on it. Expertly coaxing my lips apart, his tongue meets mine in a feverish tangle while his hands grip my waist - pulling me into him.

The way that Kim Taehyung kisses is unlike anything I've ever experienced. It's hot and demandingly deliberate with a possessiveness that sends a ripple of electricity through me. I'm playing with fire, making out with him, but at this moment I can't find it in me to give a single fuck.

Blazing lips suck and bite at the side of my neck and –

"(y/n)?"

The franticly questioning voice draws nearer as I open my eyes and tear myself away from Taehyung's wicked mouth. Luna's there, peering around Taehyung's shoulder, and I can immediately tell that something is seriously wrong.

Shoving Taehyung away from me, I jump down from the counter and stumble - completely forgetting I was in three-inch heeled boots. Taehyung’s hands shoot out around my waist to stabilize me, "Whoa, easy there, (y/n)."

"Get your lecherous paws off her, Kim," my eyes dart to Luna, shocked at her tone but proud of her vocabulary, "(y/n), we have to go."

"What's going on?" I'm at a loss, and I hate it, "Are you okay? Where's Jaehyun? Do I need to chop his dick off?"

Taehyung lets out a choking sound beside me, but I pay him no mind - chicks before dicks, hoes before bros, besties before testes, etc. etc.

"What I'm planning is much worse," Luna mutters with a strange glint in here eye as she pulls me away from Taehyung and levels him with an icy stare, "Listen, Kim, I know all about your little task for the pledges. Seriously, forcing them to get with as many girls as possible before they get their letters? Are you that much of a chauvinistic asshole?"

I whip around to face Taehyung, who seems to have become intensely interested in his beer, "Is this true?" He says nothing. I stalk up to him, shoving a finger in his chest, "Is. It. True."

His beautiful, guilty eyes flicker up to meet mine, and my heart sinks.

"Fuck. You." My words come out as a whisper but are still vicious enough to make Taehyung stagger back.

With that, Luna and I stalk out of the party - heads held high and arms linked.

Returning to our dorm, we make a pact to avoid all frat boys and christen it with pizza. She never tells me how she found out about the stupid pledge task; I'm smart enough to know that she must have had her reasons.

But I wasn't smart enough to stop thinking about Kim Taehyung.

I played with fire.

I should have known I'd get burned.

[imaginesmai]

Tom Holland - This two-seat couch

I don’t know how I did it but I managed to post twice in a week and stop being dead to Tumblr. Don’t misundertand this with me being a funtional human being, I’m a still a piece of GaRBaGe💕

Plot: college!Tom has some feelings for you, and you have some feelings for you. Maybe, ‘some’ isn’t the way to describe it, more like ‘madly in love with my best friend’. Thank God though for those two-seat couch where knees brush.

Tom was no stranger to see the hours pass by in the clock at night. Whether it was because he had an important test he couldn’t understand or a party that ended when the sun came up, he was used to staying up to ungodly times at night. He already knew what every channel emitted when the moon appeared, and what were the few things that were worthy to see. What surprised him, though, was that you were still fighting to keep your eyes open for a little longer. He knew you too well, and you usually knocked out when the clock stroke twelve at the latest.

Always good on tests and getting up early rather than staying late, you were the good example he didn’t follow. Tom went to parties while you watched your favourite show before falling asleep, and you memorized things with just reading them once while he spent hours with no results. Still, years of college and friendship, of weird conversations between two polar opposites had brought you to that place together.

You were crammed onto Tom’s tiny two-seat couch, limbs tangled in positions that shouldn’t have been comfortable. Tom was side awake, hyper aware of every point where your bodies touch, but he was slack against the back of the couch, arm resting on the leg you had thrown over his pal. You’re leaning on the arm of the couch, other foot planted on the floor between his. Both of you watching TV, thinking about different things.

Still, you were paying far more attention to the show than Tom was, even if he proposed it. It was a terrible movie, but he knew you liked to laugh with them. As if you could read him, you cracked up laughing, and the sound brought a smile to the football player’s face.

“It’s the worst film I’ve ever seen for sure” your eyes shone with the TV lights. “You’re outstanding yourself lately”

“I’m trying my best to satisfy your horrific love for this movies, considering you’ve seen most of them already” Tom bit back, comfortable and, at the same time, on cloud nine. “Besides, it seems I finally found the perfect way of keeping you from falling asleep in the middle of our movie night”

“I don’t always fall asleep”

“Tell that to the permanent drool stain on my couch”

It didn’t matter if you laughed and punched his shoulder friendly, he knew you would be dropping soon. The movie night was a tradition already he didn’t even want to miss; every Sunday, when your parents dropped you off in the dorms, Tom would pick you up and you would spend the night with him, watching a crappy film. Then, next morning he would take you to your class. As he had his own apartment, you had more space there than in your small room.

Since you had met two years ago – first day of collage by getting paired up in a weird meeting game – you had formed a weird relationship that no one could really understand. To most, you weren’t the prettiest girl in the campus. To Tom, you were the best.

Fifteen minutes passed, and Tom was so immersed in his own head that he hardly registered your yawning. Another leg was thrown on his lap, and you moved so that you could rest your head on his shoulder. Tom gave the clock another glance, knowing you were minutes away from falling asleep. And damn if it wasn’t his favourite part of the day, watching you sleep against his shoulder.

“So that you don’t complain about the drool stain on your couch” you said, trying to keep your eyes open. Your hot breath hit Tom’s neck like a thousand needles, making him shiver. “Aren’t you tired?”

“I’m fine, but you can go to sleep” he assured you, lowering the TV volume. He brought you closer to him with his left arm, until you were nested against him. “Your bedtime was like five hours ago, darling”

“I don’t fall asleep that early” you scoffed, making yourself comfortable against him. “It’s you who fall asleep too late. That’s gonna bite you in the ass when you’re older”

From any other person, he would have taken it as an insult. While most of the people thought he spent the nights awake playing games or drinking, the majority of nights were spend trying to understand what the books he was studying were saying. Tom wasn’t ashamed of his dyslexia, but accepting it didn’t make it any easier. His roommates and friends tried not to talk about how Tom spent nights awake studying, or how most of his breakdowns involved not understanding what he had to study.

He was used to people ignoring he had dyslexia, so he had tried to ignore it too; until you found him one night in the library with misty eyes and head in hands, and you had helped him. Together, you discovered that he just needed someone to explain or read the things to him, and Tom had a boost on his grades.

So he just tickled your side at the comment, enjoying the soft whine that left your lips.

“You should go to bed” Tom smiled, ignoring completely the screams of the movie. “Tomorrow you’re gonna be complaining about neck ache”

“That’s just an excuse to have you massaging my shoulders”

“That’s what I am now? A massager prostitute?”

“You’re not that good, don’t get your hopes up” you said with your eyes closed. “But I have to agree with the second part”

“What – you think I’m a prostitute?”

“Well, kind of?” you opened one eye to look at him. “Come on, Tommy. You have slept with half of the girls in my dorm. Probably I’m the only one who hasn’t slept with you, actually”

That was the worst part about Tom’s college life. He was the football team’s captain, he lived with his best mate Harrison and could get the privilege to hold you while you two sat on the couch and you fell asleep on him. Then, as you walked out of your own paradise of Tom’s two pieces couch, you went to the mattress Tom had taken out for you and you slept besides him, on the floor. To him, it was the moment his little moment of happiness broke.

He could pretend all he wanted when you two sat together, watched a bad film and teased each other like friends did. But he wanted so desperately for it to be true; and it had a simple solution, telling you what he felt like and embracing his feelings like the man he was.

“I haven’t slept with everyone” he answered instead. “Your roommate – what was her name? Clare? Betty?”

“Lydia”

“Yeah, I haven’t slept with her” he swallowed down his annoyance. “And I can’t believe you think like that, you of all people! After inviting you to my own house to have a sleepover and let you eat pineapple pizza on my couch”

“God, don’t call it a sleepover like we’re teenage girls painting our nails with purpurin” you said laughing.

Tom really wanted to let it go, because he knew you hadn’t said it with bad intentions. The same way he teased you for going to bed early and reading too much, you could tease him for his way of living. It wasn’t as if it was a lie; he had slept with a few girls, he didn’t count, and he knew he was well liked among the dorms. If it had been any of his friends telling him that, he would have shoved them out of his way playfully and the problem had been solved.

But that you said it made him mad, because he didn’t want that image of himself for you. He wanted something better, something that, on his worst insecure nights, he thought he couldn’t achieve.

“And what’s wrong if I want to paint my nails? Will you stereotype me too for it, like you’re doing for sleeping with some girls?”

“Do you want to paint your nails?” you moved away from Tom, sleep slowly disappearing. “It was just a joke, if you want to paint your nails that’s fine. I can teach you”

“This is not about the nails!”

“Then what’s it about? Actually, what’s this?” you moved back to the other place in the couch, frowning at him.

“You telling me that I’m a prostitute?”

Since the moment you met Tom in that get to know each other activity, there hadn’t been any argument or disagreement. You were both total opposites, but you liked to think that way you compenetrated each other. Tom helped you to be more open and friendly, and was always there for you when your little dorm became too tiny. And when he had an test, he didn’t have to panic anymore because he wasn’t alone.

You weren’t even sure if it was an argument. You just knew that Tom was getting mad for something you had said and you didn’t know how to fix it. And if you were annoyed because you had had to move from your favourite place because of it, you didn’t say anything.

“I didn’t mean it, it was a joke”

“Yeah, it wasn’t” he scoffed. “It’s like – I can’t joke about you not going out or being a nerd, but you can joke about me being a prostitute?”

“I didn’t mean it, Tom!” you argued, louder than him. “Besides, it’s a lie? You’ve been with almost every girl I know”

“Could you stop repeating it?”

“Why, does the truth bother you?” the thought of him not denying it anymore led to you thinking about him with girls, and pretty girls with him, and you just being his friend. “Then stop doing it”

“Oh, of course!” he chuckled sarcastically. “I’ll stop just because you say so, because Y/N asked me to stay fucking virgin like her!”

Tom’s face was hit with the cushion so hard that his nose throbbed, at the same time someone in the movie died. A little ‘off’ left him as he threw the cushion away, rubbing the sore spot. That you were a virgin wasn’t something you shared with everyone, only with a few – and with Tom, after explaining that you weren’t comfortable hearing about what he did with some girls when he went out. It was low, and probably Tom shouldn’t have said it, but there was no turning back and now you were fully on your first argument as friends.

Friends, that should be more than that. Everyone saw how Tom was trailing behind you like a lost puppy when you walked through the corridors, and how you made time out of nothing to help him with his assignments. You were always the first one in the rows for his games, even if you hated loud places and crowds, and he always tried to keep up with the things you liked so he could make you happy. You were too blind to see it, the same way you were too blind to see you were arguing over a different feeling.

The two seat couch felt much longer now that Tom and you were angry, and your legs didn’t brush anymore.

“You’re an asshole”

“And a prostitute, it seems” Tom mumbled. “Something else you want to tell me?”

“It was a joke, Tom! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to hurt you – but yeah, you sleep with a lot of girls, I was stating that. Why do you have to be like this?”

“Be like what?”

“Ugh, a prick! You’re acting like the rest of college-players-boys”

“Oh my – yeah, of course Y/N! The queen of stereotypes! Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Fuck you, Tom. But – that’s probably offensive too, right?”

Tom didn’t answer, just went back to looking at the TV. Neither of you meant what you were saying, and truth was, it didn’t have any sense. He was mad because it had been months since he had been with a girl, because he preferred to spend his nights with you, texting or watching a bad film. He was angry because he hated the reminder of you just being friends, since it only made him think about how you could never be with a boy like him. You got outstanding in your tests, he barely passed if you didn’t help him. You were soft, nice and caring, and he was just an idiot.

You were mad because Tom had slept with girls that were you, and even if you got to hug in him the two seats couch on Sunday’s night, you didn’t wake up by his side in the morning. You were angry because he just couldn’t see how much you loved him and how much it hurt you to be just his friend for two years. He celebrated games, parties and small gatherings, and you barely celebrated your birthday anymore. He was popular, gorgeous and had a million dollars smile, and you were what the football team would call just an average girl.

It was silent for a while, all track of sleep having gone away. You pretended to look at the movie from different ends of the couch, pretended not wanting to go back to each other. Another ten minutes ran by and the clock hit one thirty in the morning. The next day, you would have to wake up soon to go to class, physically fighting Tom into going with you and not missing the first period. Part of your anger flew away when you thought about him waking up early just to take you to class even if he didn’t have to.

Eventually, you relaxed in your part of the two seats couch and you gave Tom a side glance; who was already looking at you. When you faced him, he talked.

“I’m sorry” he croaked out. “I didn’t mean any of that – I just… I’m sorry”

“I don’t think you’re a prostitute” you admitted, and Tom cracked into a smile. “Sorry, too. I don’t have any right to –“

“I really like you” he blurted out, before he could chicken out; already happening. “Like, really, really like you. More than a friend. And I’m sorry that I slept with so many girls, but I’m not longer that person. Because now I-I like you a lot, and I just want to be with you. So, yeah. I really like you”

When your mother told you that you had to go to bed early because nothing good could happen after midnight, you didn’t think she was talking about hallucinations. It took you a while to realize that Tom had really said that he really liked you. You had imagined something like ‘yeah, you didn’t have the right to call me that so go back to your room and we’ll talk in the morning’. If only you had known, you would have stayed past midnight the first time you met him.

“It’s okay if you don’t… like me back” Tom turned around and looked at the film, although you could see the glassy reflection of the lights on his eyes. “Just, thought you should know”

“No, I – just, I didn’t think you could like me” you too went back to looking at the TV, to make your own contribution to make the night even weirder. “I just, you know. You’re you, and I’m… me”

“I have the feeling that you’re not talking about you being a wonderful and brilliant person and me being kind of dumb, as I was thinking about” Tom muttered. “But that’s the only true that I know”

“You’re not dumb” you said. As if your body could move on it’s own, you were no longer on your end of the couch, but your ass was in the middle of the two seats. “You’re – you. And I really like you”

“We’re sounding like teenagers in a sleepover right now”

Tom had moved too, and you were again in your original positions; ignoring the free space in the small couch in favour of sitting together in the middle of it. Someone else died on the movie. It was, indeed, the worst one you had ever seen; about a group of friend who go into a trip to the mountains and find some killer sheep, that when kill someone they turn into another sheep. It was so, so ridiculous that you didn’t mind missing the ending for Tom.

His hand, that was big enough to cover your face, pulled you closer. He moved his face and your noses didn’t touch. You didn’t want to close your eyes, didn’t want to let the anxiety of giving your first kiss and doing it wrong. But it was Tom – who had a lucky pair of underwear, wore sock over his sweaters and had a blue teddy from his family that always slept with him.

You let him pull you closer as the last scream tow through the screen, making the moment even better. It was nothing like what you had imagined, and at the same time, it was. Tom was careful, not pushing you, just pressing his lips against yours and letting them dance on their own. His lips trapped your bottom one without any force, and he moved away after the shortest seconds of your life.

When you opened your eyes, the world wasn’t brighter and you didn’t feel any prettier than before; the only thing you felt was happy, and liked. And they were the best feelings you had ever felt.

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want” Tom tried to assure you, his hand still on your cheeks and his breath on your lips. “We don’t – if you want your time, we can still be friends. I’ll wait, and –“

You moved once more to kiss him, that time crossing the line of the two seat couch of Tom’s apartment. His chuckle was swallowed as the credits rolled down the screen, and he finally grabbed and dragged you to his lap, where you were finally comfortable. Instead of going to your own mattress or sleeping in Tom’s bed, you fell asleep right there, in his two seat couch and wrapped around him.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists​, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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[toomanyrobins]

October

Summary: Clint Barton, college football star, has a new interest: Y/N Y/L/N. But with her father gone all of the time, a younger brother, and going to college, Y/N has no time for dating. Will Clint get the yes, or will life get in the way?

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Content warning: nothing really yet, occasional cursing, mentions of drinking and sex later

Word Count: 1.9k

Y/N Y/L/N was sitting outside in the quad with her best friend and roommate, Nat, between classes when her phone rang. She dug it out of her bag and answered. Her brother’s school was calling to tell her that Asher was sick. Y/N cursed, she knew the stomach bug was going around and it was going to be a crappy next few days. She asked Nat to send her the notes for the lectures before rushing to her car. In the parking lot, she was digging around trying to find her keys in her purse. She heard her name called and saw Clint Barton and his friends standing around by their cars. He jogged up to her and she could see over his shoulder that they were all watching them. “Where you going?”

Y/N was confused why Clint was talking to her. She rolled her eyes internally at the invasive question. The football team was notorious at their college and she didn’t have time to be one of their flavors of the month. “Places.”

He leaned against the car door, “Are purposefully secretive or does it come naturally?”

“Oh, I’m all natural, Barton,” Y/N jerked on the door handle, knocking him off balance. “Now I have to go. My brother is sick and I have to pick her up.”

“But it’s the middle of the day. Don’t you have class?”

She took a deep breath to keep herself calm. It wasn’t Clint’s fault she felt this way, she was just stressed about Asher, “Look I’m sorry. I wish I had the time to make idle conversation while you decide whether I'm worth sleeping with. But, I don’t. I have a sick kid to get to.” Y/N threw her stuff in the car and peeled out of the school.

Clint walked back over to his friends who had watched the exchange take place. “She looks like your number one fan,” Sam said, laughing at him.

“Oh fuck off. She’s just busy.”

“Looked like she couldn’t wait to get away from you.

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

In the three days since she’d got the call, Y/N’s life had been sniffles, cuddles, and soup. Just as she had predicted, a sickly five year old was exhausting for any parent, but for a 20-year-old it was beyond overwhelming. Y/N had just planted him in front of the TV when she heard a knock at the door. She swung it open and was greeted by a familiar face, “Mrs. Barnes! What are you doing here?”

“I’ve told you before, call me Winnie!” She held up a dish, “Anyway, I heard about Asher and thought I’d bring dinner by. This stomach bug has been going around and Rebecca had it last week.”

“Oh, that’s so nice of you. It’s been a hectic three days.”

“Have you called your father, dear?”

Y/N nodded, “I left a message with his assistant, but by the time he got back here they’d be on the mend. I’m almost certain I’ll send them back to school tomorrow.”

“Well, I have to get going anyway and pick up Becca. I’ll see you at the Halloween parade next week?” Y/N nodded and closed the door.

Winnie Barnes was her savior. A single mother who had taken pity on Y/N over a year ago. Three years ago, after another nanny had quit, Y/N had started taking care of her two younger siblings. Her father was rarely home and the women he had impregnated had no interest in raising children. This combination led to a 17-year-old raising a three and four year old all on her own. Last year, Winnie had befriended Y/N and since then she tried her best to offer support. Y/N refused to talk about her father’s absence, but they both knew her father was rarely home. Thankfully, Winnie’s magic had worked again and the next day, both kids were feeling much better and life could return to normal.

Y/N was sitting outside of a coffee shop on campus, the autumn sun warming her. She was transcribing all of the notes she had missed last week, when the chair opposite her became occupied by Clint Barton. He smiled at her, “There’s a party tonight. You should come.”

Y/N barely spared him a glance, keeping her eyes on the paper, “Thanks, but I can’t. I have plans.”

“Plans? What kind of plans?”

She weighed her options and decided that there was only one way to get him to leave her alone, “A date.”

“You have a date?”

Y/N sighed and shut her notebook. “Don’t sound so surprised, Barton, or I’ll think I should be insulted.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. You just don’t seem like the type to casually date is all.” Y/N sighed and closed her notebook. She crossed her arms and just stared at him. “Is there something on my face.”

“No, I’m just trying to figure out what it is about you. You’re so annoying and yet, I don’t have the urge to throw my coffee in your lap.”

“Let’s call that my charm,” the boyish grin that he gave her made her laugh. “Now, why did you reject me last week? I'm obviously not repulsive to you.”

“Reject you? What was there to reject? I don’t remember anything being asked.”

Clint glared playfully at her, “Don’t play stupid, it doesn’t work for you. You know what I was trying to do.”

“Look, Clint, you’re right. I did know what you were trying to do. You’re cute, but I have two young siblings and I’m the only parent they know of.”

“You think I’m cute?”

Y/N laughed, “Of course, that’s what you get out of it.”

Clint smiled at her again, “I hear you, though. I’ll back off, but just know I’m not giving up.” He pushed his chair back and started to walk away, but turned back around, “By the way, you didn’t actually say no.”

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

Clint was in the kitchen with Bucky talking about the party that night. Becca, Bucky’s younger sister, came running into the room, “You can’t go to a party! My Halloween Parade is tonight! You guys promised you would come!”

He crouched down, “How about we go to your show and then the party after. Deal?” He held out his pinky. Becca surveyed him for a second and then held out her finger in agreement. That night, when they got to the school, Winnie was immediately pulled in by friends. Parents chatted away, occasionally asking him and Bucky how their second year of college was going and how working at Stark Industries was. He noticed the woman next to him kept looking around and leaned over, “What are you looking for Mama Win?”

“This lovely girl, Y/N.” Clint perked up at the name, “She’s around your age and usually is at these things. I saw her younger brother, but not her. Oh wait, there she is!” Winnie waved over to the teenager.

Y/N smiled and greeted her, “Sorry, I’m late. The joys of costume emergencies and five-year-olds. It’s a lethal combination.”

Winnie waved away her apologies, “Is your father here?” Y/N was quick to make excuses for her father. She had been doing it for years. The older woman nodded sympathetically, “Oh, well that’s too bad.”

“Yes, he was very disappointed to miss this.” Clint could tell that she was hiding something, but before anything also could be said, they were interrupted by a young boy running up.

“Y/N! Y/N! Carter spilled juice on my dress!”

His classmate plastered a smile on her face, even though Winnie and Clint knew that she was overwhelmed by the chaos, “It’ll be okay. I’ve got a change of clothes for you in my car.”

“Why don’t I take him to the bathroom and get him cleaned up while you run and grab the clothes,” Winnie offered.

Y/N looked relieved, “That would be great. Thank you,” she quickly started to leave the gym.

Clint jogged after her, “I thought you said you had a date tonight.”

“I do. At Pizza Charlie’s. It’s a tradition to take the kids after school events. Plus with trick-or-treating tomorrow, I just don’t have time for frat parties or hangovers.” They stopped in front of the car and Clint looked into the trunk. He saw that her car was made for kids. She had changes of clothes, toys, and snacks.

“This is your car?”

“Yeah,” Y/N was confused, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it just looks like Winnie’s. You weren’t kidding when you told me that stuff earlier.”

“My dad’s pretty busy. So I spend a lot of time with my brother. You learn to be prepared. On another note, what are you doing at a kindergarten spring concert?”

Clint rubbed his neck and blushed, “Winnie’s like a mom to me and Becca is like a little sister. A very persuasive sister who has made it clear to Bucky and I that we are needed at every school event.”

Y/N laughed, “Oh yes, I am very familiar with the persuasiveness of five-year-olds. There is a reason we keep going to Pizza Charlie’s and it is not because I think the food is good.” The duo headed back inside and Y/N headed off to the bathroom, while Clint went back to Bucky.

“Dude, I can not wait to get out of here. People are sending videos of the party set-up and it looks awesome.”

“Yeah, I’m actually thinking of bailing tonight. Practice killed me.”

Bucky stared at the blonde. His blue eyes were like lazors, searching for the truth, “You’re going to Pizza Charlie’s with that Y/N girl aren’t you.”

Clint was so confused, “What the hell, man?”

“I’m psychic,” Bucky laughed at his friend’s face, “No, I’m messing with you. Mom told me she and Becca are going with them after. Figured you had hopped on in hopes of more time with Y/N.”

“You are a truly terrifying person sometimes.”

Winnie and Y/N came back with her sister and sat down with Bucky and Clint. After the concert had ended, Asher sat down on Y/N’s lap while everyone spoke. He looked up at Clint, “Are you Y/N’s boyfriend?”

Y/N choked on the candy she was eating as Bucky roared in laughter, “Ash, what the fuck?”

The little boy pointed at his sister, “That’s a dollar in the jar. And what, he kept staring at you!”

“You can’t just ask people that without some warning.”

“Okay, how do I warn them?”

Y/N was stammering for an answer and Clint decided to help her, “I’m not your sister’s boyfriend. I go to school with her.”

“Do you want to be her boyfriend?”

“Asher Y/L/N, what has gotten into you? Enough.”

The boy was pouting, “I heard Aunt Nat telling you that you needed a boyfriend and that you need to lie down or something. I don't know what laying down has to do with the boyfriend thing, but I thought I’d ask.

The situation was like something out of Y/N’s nightmares. Bucky was in tears from laughing, Clint was trying his best not to laugh, Winnie was trying to get Bucky under control and Y/N just stared at the ceiling, willing the universe to give her strength. Finally, she turned to Asher, “I will give you $5 to end this conversation and never bring it up again.”

“Deal!” Y/N slapped the bill into her brother’s hand and rubbed her temples.

[monaownsmyass]

And They Were Roommates

Requested fic by anon (if you have any fic ideas or requests you'd like me to write, you can leave me an ask!)

Book: Queen B, (after) Chapter 13

Pairing: Zoey Wade x MC (Bea Hughes)

Genre: Fluff

Rating: G, none

Word count: 3,140

A/N: Zoey and MC have a impromptu sleepover after making up from their fight a few weeks ago. Took shorter than expected cuz I wanted to get it done today so here it is! I think this might be my fav fic of mine so far :)

Tag list: @ineedskyecrandall @kamilahsayeet2063 @avalawrencefl @lovekamilahsayeed @thequeenkamilahsayeed @heygmicheelle (lmk if anyone would like to be included or removed in my next fics.)

"Have you gotten the chips yet?"

"Yeah, do you have the chocolate?"

"First thing I grabbed!"

Zoey wrapped her arms around my waist from the back and rested her chin on my shoulder. Together we peered into our shopping cart, almost overflowing with snacks. Underneath was our weekly grocery but it was entirely hidden.

"Babe, this is a ridiculous amount junk food," Zoey laughs.

"I mean, it's not like we're gonna finish it in one night. We could always keep it for some other time or even throw a party or something," I protested with a smile.

"This is basically an invitation for diabetes and an aneurysm."

"I don't see you making any effort to put some back though," I challenged.

She just laughs and lets go of me as we continued making our way down the aisle.

It was past sundown and we came to the grocery store with the only intention of stocking up our fridge with groceries. However, on the way, Zoey suggested we have a 'sleepover night' since we made up even though we live together and it's been weeks since the fallout. I'm not complaining though, I thought it'd be really fun especially if it means spending more time her.

And of course I suggested on getting some snacks 'cuz what's a sleepover without 'em? But we may have went a little overboard.

We headed towards the checkout and unloaded all the items onto the conveyor belt. My phone kept going off so I pulled it out to check it. Poppy was spamming my notifications again. The bitch just won’t leave me alone.

I scrolled through the 52 messages and rolled my eyes. I turned my phone on silent then looked back to Zoey who was already paying. I helped her place all the foodstuff back into the cart. Before leaving, I caught Zoey place the tips of her outstretched fingers to her chin and then bring it forward in the direction of the cashier. The cashier returned the gesture.

Wait, did Zoey know sign language?

As we made our way out of the grocery store, I turned to Zoey. "Were you communicating in sign language to the cashier?"

"Yeah, they had hearing impairment. You know ASL too?"

I shook my head. "I mean, I only know the basics like 'yes' and 'no'. I didn't know you knew sign language."

I loved finding out new things about her. It was a pleasant surprise every time.

Zoey let out a small chuckle. "You still have lots to learn about me, babe." She gave me a mischievous look. "Which is exactly why this sleepover is vital!"

I laughed at her as we reached our car and transferred the grocery bags once again. We drove back to campus, blasting music and jamming out to it on the way. I looked over to see her singing her heart out and making exaggerated facial features while bouncing up and down. Moments like these with Zoey made me so glad I was dating my best friend. I smiled at her and joined in.

When we arrived, Zoey and I piled the groceries onto our arms, refusing to make a second trip to the car and back.

We almost made it to our dorm room when Zoey stopped dead in her tracks. I bumped into her, causing me to almost loose my balance and drop everything I was carrying. Fortunately, I managed to prevent myself from falling.

"What the hell, Zo?"

"It's here!"

"What's here?"

She was looking down so I tried to peak over her shoulder to see what she was staring at. Being taller than me, it was no use.

Finally, she stepped aside to unlock the door and I saw what she was talking about. It was a package right at our doorstep.

"What's that?"

"You'll see." She entered and placed all the food on the kitchen counter before going out to retrieve the box.

I put the bags I were carrying beside hers and followed her to the dining table where she took a knife to cut open the tape sealing the box.

"Voilà!" she exclaimed and flip the lids open in a flourish.

The object inside was still wrapped up in plastic but I could make out some fabric through the clear wrapping.

"Here, this is for you! Catch!" She tossed me a plastic bag with the fabric in it and took one for herself.

I held it up and finally figured out what it was.

"Zoey Wade, you did not!"

"But yes! I did!"

I ripped open the plastic the same time she did and we unfolded the material to show it off to the other.

"You got us matching onesies?!"

She nodded enthusiastically with the biggest, cutest grin ever.

"I got us penguins 'cuz I remember you saying you like them. Also, they're so cute! Just like us!" she said with a laugh.

I didn't even bother with a reply, I was too excited. I pulled her by the face into a kiss. Her soft lips met mine, kissing me back. It was brief but if I wasn't already giddy with excitement, I definitely was now. "Thank you, Zo!"

We quickly changed into our respective onesies and modelled for the other.

"Aww, you're the cutest penguin ever," Zoey spoke in a soft and gentle voice that made me blush.

"No, you are!" I rushed to her to embrace her in a hug. "You're so soft," I giggled into her shoulder.

"Now we know our cuddle game is gonna be strong later," she laughed along with me. "Come, we have to set up the pillow fort."

I nodded but refused to let go off her. Human Zoey was a fantastic hugger but Penguin Zoey only made it better.

"Maybe I should've gotten you a monkey onesie instead," she teased and turned her head to kiss my temple. Then, she gently pried me away. "I promise we'll continue this later."

I finally let go and we got to work, building our pillow fort in the middle of the living room. It took us longer than we'd like to admit to set up the blanket as the tent. Whenever we'd secure one side, the other would come undone. It only made us crack up harder the more often it happened.

"Okay, okay, I got this side, you go grab the other!"

I rushed to the other side and made sure it would stay in place. We cautiously let go of the blanket and backed away. To our surprise, it didn't fall.

"Yes!"

We tossed a bunch of pillows into the blanket fort and hung fairy lights all over, including inside. We switched off the main lights a took a step back to admire our handiwork. We snaked an arm around each other to side hug.

"Good job, babe," Zoey smiled, squeezing me into her.

"You too, beautiful." I gave her a peck on the cheek in reply.

"Alright, time to call for pizza now!"

"Can you do it on your phone? Poppy has been blowing up mine so I'm avoiding it at all cost."

Her eyes widen. "Still? It's been so long!"

"I know," I sighed. "I'll probably block her tomorrow or something. Tonight, it's all about you and me."

"You got that right," Zoey murmured and gave me a small kiss on the lips.

She grabs her phone and dials up the pizza place. Once she was done, she went into her room and came out holding a folded picnic blanket.

"C'mon," she said and stretched out her other hand for me to hold.

I accepted her warm hand in mine instinctively, loving the way it fits perfectly. "Where are we going? What's up with the mat?"

"The delivery guy said he couldn't come up to the dorm to deliver it. The best he can do is meet us at the courtyard. So I thought we could maybe stargaze while we wait."

My heart skipped and my breath hitched. Stargazing with Zoey? How could I say no? Who in their right mind would say no?

“In our onesies?”

“Only if you want to.”

"Of course I want to!" I blurted and immediately dragged her out the door with her chuckling at me.

At the courtyard, Zoey spread open the picnic blanket and laid it on the ground. She sat on it and reached up to grab my hand, pulling me down to sit beside her. We laid down on our backs and looked up at the sky. It was clear and the stars seemed to twinkle extra bright tonight.

Zoey's hand moved around in search of mine and interlaced our fingers together when she found it. I gave it a squeeze and smiled into the night, never felt so contented before. Just two people in penguin onesies under the night sky, holding hands.

"Do you recognise any constellations?" I asked her.

"I can't say I do, are you some kind of astronomy expert that I didn't know?"

I laughed. "No, but my dad used to point some out to me when I was a kid. He'd take me outside and we'd just sit and watch the stars."

I glanced at her and saw a small smile play on her lips. That in turn made me smile. I was sharing a meaningful, nostalgic moment with her and that sent a thrill through me. I couldn't express how grateful I was that I could share this with her.

"Tell me about them." She looked at me and then back at the starry sky.

"That one is the Ursa Major, or the Great Bear," I said softly, just loud enough for her to hear. I pointed to the sky and traced the stars with my finger. She moved in closer to me to see where I traced.

"And that’s the Big Dipper. It consists of the seven brightest stars of the Ursa Major." I continued to move my finger in the air.

It was really cute that her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she was listening but the she squinted. "That doesn't look like a bear."

I laughed again and said, "Almost every constellation doesn't look like their names, darling. You should see Corvus."

"That's a little weird."

"Why don't you go ahead and name one then," I insisted.

"Okay," she replied and pointed to the brightest star in the sky I could see. "I'm calling that Bea Hughes."

I started giggling and I could feel the butterflies in my stomach flutter furiously.

"Then that one should be called Zoey Wade." I indicated to the star that was directly beside the one she chose.

She grinned at me and I squeezed her hand once more. "Perfect."

She rolled into her side and I followed suit. Facing each other, we stared at the other for a while with our hands still interlocked. I brought my other hand up to brush the stray strands that fell in her face. I rested my hand against her cheek and gently stroked her smooth skin. She closed her eyes.

I looked at her in unabashed adoration. It wasn't the first time I was blown away by her and I was certain it wouldn't be the last time. My eyes trailed over the features of her face. She was perfection.

She opened her eyes and I gasped as a wave of emotion flooded me. My heart was beating a million miles an hour as realisation dawn on me when I gazed into her brilliant eyes.

I loved Zoey Wade.

I loved the way she tossed her head back when she laughed. I loved how her eyes lit up when she was talking about something she was passionate about. I loved the way she looked at me. I loved that she remembers the smallest things about me even when I don't recall mentioning it to her myself. I loved getting to know new things about her. I loved the way she brightens my day just by seeing her

I was in love with her.

I reacted the only way I knew how to; I pulled her into me to hug her and immediately buried my face in her neck.

"I adore you, Zo." I kissed the skin where her neck and shoulder meets.

"I adore you too."

We stayed like that in comfortable silence until we heard someone shout 'oh my god!' and footsteps coming closer.

I felt her turn her head to the source and sigh. Me with my face still in her neck whispered, "Is that the demon I hear?"

"Unfortunately."

Poppy stopped right over us and crossed her arms. I looked straight up at her and Zoey shifted to look at her too.

"This is why you've been ignoring me?!" she practically screeched. "You've been ignoring me to lie around in the middle of the lawn in stupid animal suits? With her?"

"Why? Jealous?"

She scoffed. "As if, Farmsville!"

"Shoo shoo, we're in the middle of something," Zoey said unamused while waving her hand at Poppy.

Poppy started shouting at us but we weren't paying attention any longer.

"Ughh! Fine! You will regret this!" she huffed and finally stomped away.

"Oh, just in time," I said as I saw the pizza delivery person.

We paid for our pizza and headed back up to our dorm.

Once we stepped passed the door, I heard Zoey's phone buzz and then laugh.

"What's up?"

"Check your phone."

Still on silent, I whipped out my phone and saw the notifications. My eyes widen when I saw both Zoey and I's ranking on The T increase. I scrolled through the feed and saw a picture of us from just now at the courtyard, cuddling.

"Poppy thought she could submit this and ruin us!" Zoey said between giggles. "Obviously it backfired 'cuz now everyone at Belvoire thinks we're the cutest couple on campus."

I went through the comments.

'Omg, they're so cute!' 'I didn't know they were together but they look good.' 'They're perfect for each other!' 'And they were roommates...'

I snorted and glanced over at Zoey who looked beyond ecstatic. "Suck it, Poppy!"

I laughed at her and wrapped my arms around her waist.

"Y'know, we do make a pretty cute couple."

"Only 'pretty cute'?" Zoey teased and returned my hug. "We're fricken' adorable!"

I brought her in for a kiss and she grabbed onto me a little tighter. One hand was on the back of my neck and the other went around my waist, gripping it. The way she kissed me was electric. Surges of energy ran through my veins, making me come alive. The passion and yearning poured into the kiss made me breathless. Being in love with her only amplified the feeling.

Zoey broke the kiss, panting but mostly laughing.

"Sorry, babe," she said, trying to catch her breath. "I just remembered we're both in penguin onesies."

I broke into a fit of giggles. God, I loved this girl.

"Damn right we are," I confirmed, beaming. "Must look pretty ridiculous but it's sure as hell comfy."

Zoey grinned back at me and grabbed my hand to lead me into the pillow fort. We took the pizza with us along with a bottle of wine.

"Cheers!" We clinked glasses and took a swig after she poured some out.

Even though we had a TV in the living room, Zoey brought out her laptop 'cuz our pillow fort was blocking it. She set it up and started playing 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'.

I turned to Zoey. "How did you know this was my favourite classic?"

"Who doesn't love a good Hepburn movie once in a while?"

We dug into the pizza while enjoying our wine. After we were done, we got into a comfortable position. She laid back, propping her head up using the pillows as I laid my head on her chest, arms wrapped around each other as well as our legs. Some of the snacks we got earlier surrounded us for easy access. She was right, cuddling with the onesies was on a whole other level.

"Can we just stay like this, forever?"

"I'd love to but I think we have other obligations," she joked.

"Can we at least do this every weekend then? Penguin onesies, pillow forts and all?"

"Sounds good to me."

The movie continued and eventually, Holly Golightly started singing 'Moon River'. I heard Zoey singing along softly.

'Moon river, wider than a mile, I'm crossing you in style someday.'

I gazed up at her and she looked back at me, still singing.

'Oh dream maker, you heartbreaker, Wherever you're going, I'm going your way.'

Mesmerised by the beautiful sound of her voice, I just stared at her in wonderment while she sang the rest of the song.

"You're unreal," I spoke in amazement when she was done.

She giggled and kissed my forehead. "That's you, darling."

I laid her head back onto her chest and listened to the gentle thump in her chest as the movie carried on. A while later, I looked up to peer at Zoey only to find her eyes closed.

She must have fallen asleep. Thinking back to my recent revelation when we were stargazing, I started speaking quietly, just above a whisper. I couldn't hold it in.

"You probably can't hear me, but I have to get something off of my chest," I said. "Kinda funny that were in penguin onesies. 'Cuz penguins mate for life. Not that I'm saying we'll be together for the rest of our lives even though I really hope we do."

I exhaled slowly and continued, "What I mean is that, after the whole situation at the Zeta's, I thought I lost you for good. I can't tell you how lucky I am that you're giving me a second chance. We're in this together and I mean it. I'll always be by your side no matter what."

I closed me eyes. She may not hear this part in person but I hope she hears it in her dreams. "What I'm trying to say... what I'm saying is that, I love you, Zo."

Instantly, I could hear her heart begin to pound rapidly. My eyes shot open as butterflies invaded my stomach. Did she hear me?

I felt her hand that was resting my my thigh twitch. I look down to see the barest movement of her fingers. Her ring and middle finger down while the rest were stretched out.

My own heart started racing in recognition. One of the only signs I knew.

I love you.

I squeezed her, hugging her tighter to let her know I saw it. I felt her tighten her hold on me in response.

We drifted off to sleep in each other's embrace with me being lulled by her heartbeat, knowing that my love loved me back.

(More fics!)

[writingforyourpleasure]

Sharing Is Caring

Warning : A lot of fluff ahead NSFW / smut but like fluffy

« Gee are you home ? » You shouted in your lobby getting off your shoes .

 The dark haired men peeked his head at the end of your hallway glancing at you without saying any words , like a shy child, you laughed. Once your boots off your feet you walked over to the living room, where you guessed Gerard was sitting  since he was still watching you as you walked over. As you entered the room you were greeted by the sight of Mikey and Ray slumped on your couch facing you, while Gerard and Frank were in two armchairs with their backs just in front of you.

 « Ho hey guys, What’s up ? »

 You weren’t surprised to see them here since it was Saturday night and they usually hang out in your loft the weekend when you were off to work, and sometimes stayed over . It was already 3am30 and judging from all the empty beer bottles and pizzas box on the coffee table between the two duos they’ll probably all were gonna stay over for a sleepover . But you were used to it from now . Plus they were always fun to be around since you became friends with them pretty soon after you guys first meet.

You kissed them hello, starting by Ray and Mikey and finishing with Frank and getting up going in the kitchen . A bottle of beer in your hand you went back to the living room where you sat on the carpet , listening to what Frank explained to Ray while as Mikey did the same as you. You suddenly heard a whisper on your left trying to catch your attention.

 « Why am i the only one not allowed to have a kiss on the cheek ? » pouted Gerard.

You rolled your eyes , taking one of the last slices of pizza on the coffee table.

« Because You already get to see me everyday Way. »

 As if he agreed he returned his attention on the discussion soon after that. You and Gerard known each other during a party where neither of the two of you really knew someone. Both of you stayed all night next to the alcohol table, so you decided at some point to talk to the guy, the two of you talked for a while it was nice. You both got along really well and as the party flowed you approached the subject that you were trying to move out from your parents house and already made some visits, then Gerard’s face brightened and told you he was too. The night moved fast as you changed topics along it and around five in the am during a very drunken state of mind you both made this crazy plan to visit apartments together and split the month rent. After that the owner of the house kicked you out, and Gerard accompanied you to your parents house on walk. You , then, asked if he wanted to crash at your place , being already six am and being still slightly drunk even if the walk helped. He accepted and you both got into your 1 place bed , both of you just in your t-shirts and underwear.

After that night you and Gerard saw each other pretty often and soon he became one of your closest friends. You didn’t talk about the drunken idea to move in together before six months after that night. You found an apartment within a month and moved in together in a old red bricks lot on the third floor. That was a little over one year ago .

You got up joining Frank who went in the kitchen at the research of more beer bottle for all of you. You saw him looking lost in the middle of your kitchen.

« Here. Take one , I’ll take the other. » You said grinning at him, pointing at the two beer pack of six behind the bin. He gently smiled and nodded in agreement giving you one of the two and taking the other one under his left arm and followed you back to the living room where Gerard was the first to grab a bottle from his pack. You sat yours on your right, near the armrest of the couch on Mikey’s side. The night went along nicely, Frank, Mikey and Gerard were discussing music while you and Ray were at one of the two windows of your living room smocking while talking about the little birthday party he was having at your place since he still lived at his parents house . Gerard and you told him immediately that he could make it at your place when he started talking about his birthday. You weren’t the kind to often go to parties, but you knew it would only be a small thing and you trusted Ray more than any of the guys.

Later, around five in the morning, you all agreed to go to bed being all pretty smashed . Since you only got two bedrooms on opposite sides of the apartment, your bedroom being close to the entrance and the kitchen, Gerard’s room was close to the office and the kitchen. One of the boys, when it wasn’t you or Gerard turn, had to crash on the couch, while two duos would be sleeping in the bedrooms. Tonight, was Frank’s turn to sleep on the couch, you end up sharing a bed with Gerard this time, while Mikey and Ray would share one.

 « Your bed or mine ? » You said glancing at your roommate as the rest of your friends were gathering up in the kitchen and Frank already was asleep on your couch snoring a little bit.

« Huh does it bother you if we take mine this once ? It’s just, whenever one of us is not sleeping with them , I always told the guys to sleep in mine not to have them destroying your room so… »  He said pursing his lips questioningly.

« No it’s completely fine ! And they can use my room whenever they need , it doesn’t bother me the slightest you know ? They’re my friends too after all. » You smiled.

 You went to your room to grab a faded gray large T-shirt with the Tarot’s signs on it, plus a basic yellow panties and your toothbrush. You went to Gerard’s room to change, while he was explaining to Ray and Mikey that they were going to sleep in my room. You got out of the room, after brushing your teeth, heading to the living room and hugging your friends goodnight . Gerard got into his room to change, as Mikey and Ray went to theirs and after that you turned off the rooms lights. You kissed Frank’s forehead before adjusting his plaid and joining Gerard to his room.

 Once the door of Gerard’s room closed the dark ate the room, you couldn’t see shit, and were seriously struggling to find the bed. You could hear Gerard’s chuckle and helped yourself by the sound of it, you made it alive to the bed . You were starting to discern forms into darkness of the room, like Gerard’s body frame which was facing you in the large bed.

You felt his breath on your lashes. Wash he really this close ?

« Hey ? » you whispered ,as if inhaling was forbidden, to your friend looking into oblivion .

« Ya … ? » Breathed out Gerard with a dry throat.

« Do you remember how small my teenage bed was ? »

He chuckled at the memory of it. « I sure do ! Every time we were laying on it , I wandered when one of us will fall off of it. » You both chuckled quietly trying not to make too much noises for the others.

« We did fall in the end, remember ? » he quickly added.

« How could I forget ? » you laughed smiling at the memory

« It’s freezing cold… » shivered Gerard. You knew he was right because you were in January and you and Gee never turned up the heater because it costed too much and you nearly arrived to pay rent every month so this luxury was clearly out of reach for both of you.

« Is it ? »You said with a mischievous smile on your lips before landing both of your freezing feet on Gerard’s legs.

He hissed at your attack squirming beneath your touch while you chuckled devilishly . You stopped yourself realizing something.

« You only are in your boxers ? » you breathed out thinking out loud. Your throat was dry.

« And you, in your panties , so ? » He brushed off amusement clear in his sooth voice never above a whisper since you started talking.

« Yeah but I always did ! You never slept without your Pj’s pants before , unless you didn’t bring them with you ! » You huffed, still not moving away your feet off his skin.

« Really ? … Never paid attention »

Suddenly, as you and Gee were confined in silence, you started to be more than aware of the situation. You both were kinda drunk, not much dressed and very close, chest almost touching. Something started playing with the hem of your shirt tugging slightly on it, so you started playing with the hem of his shirt too , not really knowing what to expect . Then your hand brushed slightly against his hipbone, skin meeting skin, his breath came to a stop. You got scared.

« I’m sorry I shouldn’t had-« 

« It’s okay … » he reassured you , shifting closer to you, both of your chests colliding together and your nooses bumping against one another.

Your fingers started tracing little stars on his abdomen and you were furiously blushing, thankfully it was too dark for him to see. His long fingers slipped under your shirt to settled under your breast drawing the limitation of it. You moved one of your hands to his right nipple playing with it between your thumbs as his breathing grew heavier. He copied your movements and your breath hitched in you throat.

« Can I ? » You whispered ,tugging on his shirt, the odor of alcohol floating between the two of you . He slowly nod, giving you the green light you needed to. His shirt was thrown somewhere on the ground as he did the same with  yours. Once both bare chest, you showed both of your arms around him sighting happily as you felt each other skin. Soon a pair of hands came up to your jaw stroking it sweetly , an awkward silence of hesitation hanged between the two of you , until his lips landed on yours and it felt right, your mind was peaceful and you couldn’t get enough of it . Then you slide your tongue inside his mouth tasting nicotine and cheap alcohol, not that you minded. You had to admit it, Gerard was a pretty good kisser. Once his tongue slides against yours, everything seemed to get more passionate and want was radiating from both of you, you straddle him , pressing both of your hands against his naked chest to maintain him against the mattress telling him not to move. You grind against hip a little unsure of your movements, his hands came to your hips accenting your action as both of you yelped at the friction. You were quite taken aback by the feeling that washed you over,  feeling his bulge against your core  , but you came back to your sense pretty quickly , giving him a chaste kiss , descending to his neck and starting to suck his pale skin giving a few tongue strokes against it. He grunted against your ear , sending shivers through your whole body. You moved to his right nipple biting it sweetly, you felt him tense beneath you , his grip on your hips much more tight . You started to grind on him once again much more confident now, your breath grew heavier, each seconds that was passing by, as did Gerard’s . You looked at his face , he had his eyes closed and his bottom lip between his teeth as his hips meet yours. His hands started to touch your chest caressing it gently , you grinded even more against him, his hands weren’t so gentle after that. His eyes flew open looking at you with dilated pupils and glassy eyes and an expression on his face that you hadn’t had the chance to ever see before. Gentle yet, full of want. You kissed him once again , wrapping him in your arms . You both continued to make out a little dizzy coz’ of the alcohol and the sensation of him just inhibiting all your senses. Gerard was now sitting with you still straddling him . Here you were making out at 5am30 with your best friend on his Stars Wars bedsheets with 3 of your friends sleeping not far from you. But you didn’t really needed a reminder of that , you just needed to remain silent. Hard to do when someone very hot is panting slightly against your right ear and licking slightly your neck. Your own breathing was becoming more pronounced and faster. His hands were all over the place. You kissed him once more biting into his lips and soon both of your tongues were moving in sync, his hands moved from your belly to your hair pulling it shyly, earning a groan out of you. You copied him pulling slightly at his hair , earning a yelp from his side. You broke the kiss to take a breath , and both of you just looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds still loudly panting . Your right hand traveled from his dark locks, to his belly ,then resting calmly against his hip , to finally brush over his length above his underwear . His forehead felled against your right shoulder, hiding his expression of pleasure from you , he bite back a moan , panting even louder instead. You gave a few hesitant strokes before going for it entirely, sliding your hand under the cloth . You started your movements at a slow pace, his mouth landed on yours sharing a needy kiss as you pleased him . You slowly opened your eyes to admire his face , his eyes were closed , his mouth hanged open his cheeks were colored by a soft shade of pink . It was mesmerizing. suddenly his finger found their way to your core sliding under your panties . You yelped surprised by the cold finger sliding in ,at a slow pace matching yours, against your clit . His eyes opened and for the first time you saw his pupils glassy and blown with lust , surely matching yours . He rested his cheek against yours whispering to your ear.

“Jeez , Y/N , What are you doing to me ?”

Your moaned in response , concentering on your task. His breath was itching and tickling against your ear.

“ You’re , so hot Gee…You’re doing so w-well … I …. I -I want you to cum for me lo-love.” Your breathed just above a whisper , having difficulties to think clearly your mind racing with sinful thoughts.

Gerard moaned loudly catching himself a little too late to be quiet . Your movements were much faster now and his moan maked you moaned but quieter in response. Your panting , breathing and moans were like a song to your ears, you felt so intimate and connected with Gerard at this very moment. His digits were circling around your clit making you lean into his touch . He flashed you a cocky grin. You pleased him teasing him too ,by spreading his pre-cum all over his length and playing with his head moving at a very slow and torturous pace, at the same time your left hand find it way to his hair locking itself into his dark locks petting his hair gently before pulling it earning a low moan from him. You were now the one having a cocky grin on your lips as you pulled his head out of the side of your cheek admiring him for a few seconds before pulling his hair, yet again. His eyes looked really glassy now as if he was on the edge of crying from pleasure , his mouth forming a perfect “o”. It suited him, you thinked. Your strokes became sloppy and his were faster . You felt the orgasm building into your stomach , the heat of it was such a pleasant thing . You know it would be a strong one at the sensation of it in your lower half and the delicious buzzing running through your ears .

 “G-Ge-Gee I….I’m clo-close” You whispered closing your eyes feeling it building up .

“No, No babe look at me . W-w-want to se-see you” He stuttered out .

You shut your eyes open , your lips parted as his fingers were pushing you over the edge , finally you came hard , still trying to be quiet but not sure it worked , Gerard’s name on your lips as he caught you with his lips . You strokes were faster and even more sloppier than before and Gerard came a few minutes after you biting your shoulder to mute his strong moan . You loved it and kinda hoped it would leave a mark on you . Love bites were your favorite thing even if you didn’t tell a living soul about it .

You both took several minutes to find your breath again and riding off your orgasm . You gently stroked his hair. His arms were still warped around you. He placed a lazy kiss against your neck, still not letting you have a proper look to his face. Before you knew it , he sunk down into his mattress bringing you along in his fall . You were now cuddling against his chest, you blushed furiously at this . You knew it was probably stupid given the situation, but it was somewhat almost as much intimate than what the two of you just did . Yet it wasn’t like You and Gee never cuddled up like this , but usually it was with more clothes between the two of you.

“Shit , it’s f’king cold in here …” Gerard’s voice seemed to wake you up from you thoughts , because as soon as he said it , you shivered, well it could have been because of him too but you could feel the cold air of the room dancing on your skin . Gerard showed you off his chest to get up , looking for your clothes . Somewhat the room seemed ten times colder without the feeling of his chest rising up and down against your ear. You were now just laying on the right side of his bed looking up at the celling and the dozens of neon stars glued to it . You heard him shuffling around the room looking for something much warmer than what you dressed yourselves in to sleep.

“Find it ! “ He said victoriously showing off two grey sweaters and one black jogging .

The mattress sunken once he was back in bed . You quickly dressed yourself up taking the grey sweater and the black jogging , leaving him the second sweater and only his boxer but he didn’t seemed to mind much. As he went to finally lay down again , a shy knock made itself know coming from Gee’s bedroom door. You and Gee shared a look of terror , praying for it not to be the guys telling them that they heard everything …. Mikey mostly .

“Guys I know you’re up , I heard you walking around the room earlier .”

It was Frank.

You gave a questioning look to Gerard .

“Huh.Yeah dude ? C’mon in?”

“Finally! “Frank opened the door loudly not caring all that much if he were to wake up Ray and Mikey and walked up to the bed before laying between the two of you without even asking . As always Frank . Nothing surprised you coming from him anymore, and you didn’t even meant it in a wrong way.

“What’s up Frank? “ You said playing the nonchalant card hoping he hadn’t heard anything from earlier.

“Well I just woke up to a freezing to death room , Here is what’s up Y/N!” He said afflicted. ”Sooo….. I was hoping to stay in here for the night if that’s okay with you? “ You gave a curious look to Gee nodding slightly not minding all that much.

“Yeah sure dude …” Said Gerard quietly smiling weakly at Frank then giving you a long stare while Frank was shuffling up in a curious position .

“Goodnight guys” You said sticking up to one side of Frank , giving a small smile to your best friend .

Frank was already falling asleep by now .

“Sleep tight Y/N…” Smiled Gerard before closing his eyes.

[bodyswapmischief]

Tales of the Sculptor II: A  Hero’s Call

Like, I said before. I never wanted to be special. I was okay being average. It was safe, in the middle. So, after Bruce, I didn't use my powers again, for along time. Although it ended well for Bruce, I felt it was wrong to interfere with someone else's life. In addition, the personality change I witnessed on Bruce scared me. It seemed unpredictable. If the wrong aspect of a person's personality changed, it could be dangerous. And, all these were factors for why I didn't even consider using my powers on myself.

I know it sounds strange to have these powers, and not even use them. Especially to try and better my own life. But, the truth is I didn't want to. I liked being average. I liked being normal. So, it was easy to bury these powers deep inside me. I reached a points where I didn't even know if I had them anymore, and I didn't care. The incident with Bruce, became just that. A one time fluke of the laws of physics.

And, I continued to live my life. After taking a whole year to work, I realized I was going to be stuck living a life I hated. So going to college was my next step. I still didn't know what I wanted in life, but I was hoping that the college atmosphere could give me some perspective. Luckily, I got in to my top pick. It was far from home and offered freedom to find myself. It is also where I met Brandon.

I remember my parents leaving after helping me get settled in to my dorm. They stayed for most of the day, but it started getting late. So, I sat there all alone and confused, the bed next to me was empty. (Wasn't I supposed to have a roommate)

The next morning, I woke up and decided to explore around school. I partook in some welcoming events and looked at some clubs that set up tables. It was some time in the afternoon, when I decided I should go back to my dorm. I was surprised to see the door slightly opened and even more surprised to see a shirtless man.

And, boy what a man he was. I would later find out he was a year younger than me, but his body screamed maturity with his packed on muscles and physically powerful development. I walked in as his toned back was facing me. He was busy unpacking things onto his bed. I closed the door and the sound it made caught his attention. "Oh, shit you scared me." He said with a friendly tone. I just stood there. I began to notice he was wet. His hair was soaked and his body glistened as light hit the beads of water on his body. He had wash board abs, strong pecs, and powerful arms. He came closer to me. His moist body making this moment even more erotic.

"So ... you must be my roommate." He said as he extended his hand to me. I shook it in response " Yeah, I guess I am." I awkwardly replied. He recoils his hand and dries it on his pants. "Sorry, I just got back from the shower ... I was in the middle of drying off and getting dressed. Luckily you didn't see me bare ass naked." He laughed. I sympathetically laughed. ( I wish I did see you naked.) I thought.

He put on a shirt and it hugged his muscular body, as our conversation continued. I learned he arrived a day late, because of car trouble. He had an old hand-me-down car. He came from a poor family and had to drive himself up here, by himself, because his parents couldn't afford to take time off from work. Although it was painfully obvious, I also learned he was a jock at his high school.

I became worried, because my past experience with jocks wasn't so great. But, the more we talked; the more I saw how different he was. He wasn't an asshole like jocks I met before. He was a good, kind, and humble guy. Although he was a jock in high school, Brandon knew that sports wouldn't be his future. Instead he went to college for a business. The more we talked; the more we realized we clicked with each other. And, our conversation moved to more personal matters.

I talked about how I was bullied. He told me stories about how he protected people from being bullied. It stemmed from being bullied about being poor, at young age. As he aged, he was blessed with good looks and a strong body. He used what he got to join his football team, freshman year, and from there he gained popularity and respect from his peers. But, he never forgot about the little guy, and stood up for those in need.

At our college, he quickly became Mr. Popular. He got invited to parties and always invited me. I got to see him in action. He liked including everyone, no matter who they were or how they looked. He stood up to assholes at the parties. People loved him and respected him. In my eyes he was my ideal version of a super hero. I was developing a bad crush on him. What made it worst was that he was straight and quickly got a girlfriend, in his first year at college.

Our first year of college went by and it was great. Thanks to Brandon, my life was more social. I made friends and started coming out of my shell. For Brandon, it was going great. He was still the top man on campus and his grades were great. But, he was hit hard by the freshman 15, or more like the freshman 30, in his case. The partying, studying, beer and jockish eating habits started adding fat on his body. His belly started sticking out. His muscle became less defined. Don't get me wrong he was still hot. He had an average beefy frat bro build going on. He was still the life of the party. His relationship with his girlfriend was going strong. But, his stomach didn’t stop expanding.

Moving into our third year of college, nothing changed. Nothing, except ... Brandon's weight. By this point he stopped working out and all his muscle was gone. Only fat remained. Brandon didn't come from a wealthy family, so he couldn't just afford a new wardrobe. So, he just bought a few bigger pairs of pants. Now without his muscles, his chest and arms were smaller. This allowed his shirts to still fit comfortably on his expanding body. He quickly got the nickname "keg" because of how big he was getting and how much he could drink. He was starting to lose the respect of those around him. Before no one would dare make fun of him, but now fat jokes were becoming a common occurrence for him. But, he played and laughed along.

It was our last year off college and Brandon was completely unrecognizable. I learned he gained 130 pounds, since the start of college. And it showed. His new size 46 pants barely were able to button. His old size 2xl shirts were now skin tight. They hugged his ball belly and perfectly outlined his pair of fat tits. You could tell he should had moved to 3xl shirts by now, as his shirts constantly rode up his stomach. In order to help prevent this he started tucking in his shirts, which made his already hard to miss stomach even more noticeable. He was too stubborn to buy new clothes. He had the mind set that if it still fit he would wear it. He also always said he was planning on losing weight, so buying bigger clothes would just be a waste.

Now he was the main attraction at parties. People would always come to him and dare him to eat or drink something. People liked bringing up how fit and hot he used to be. They'd make fun of how out of shape he was. They'd warn each other  to watch out or they would get as fat as the Hog, which was Brandon's new nick name. Everyone loved teasing him by slapping his belly, scoping his boobs and watching his rolls jiggle. A  lot of guys would even stuff beach balls in their shirt and pretend to be him. You could tell Brandon was becoming bothered by all the jokes. But, now there was no stopping it.

One day, I hear him yell "Fuck!" I rushed to see what's up. Brandon was stuffed into a too small suit. The buttons on his dress shirt were straining. His dress pants weren't even close to getting over his thick thighs. He turned to face me and the buttons on his shirt popped off. Releasing his caged stomach in a tidal wave of jiggling flesh. His checks turn red. "I was hoping to wear this for my 3 year anniversary with Becca. This fit me last year for that business internship."

"Why don't you ask Tom for some clothes to borrow." I said trying to help. Tom was a 5th year college student. He lived in the same dorm complex, as us. He was the fattest guy we knew and had always been that way. He was nerdy and hung out with a different crowd, and he always seemed nice. "No, I can't just ask Tom, that's weird. And his clothes are probably to big. I don't want to look baggy and sloppy on this important night." Alex complained"Well it doesn't hurt to try." I said.

Brandon sighed and agreed. He got dressed and we went to see Tom. We explained the situation and he agreed. Tom pulled out a suit and Brandon put it on. To both mine and Brandon's surprise, it was a struggle to get it on. It fit, but was still tight. "Do you have anything bigger maybe something newer." Brandon asked. "No ... sorry. I just bought that yesterday for my new job." He explained. I could see Brandon's face, as his heart sank.

"Oh ... okay. Well this will have to do." Brandon said quickly. Tom nodded allowing us to take the suit and we left. On the way back Brandon said "What the fuck! I'm fatter than Tom. Have I been that blind to how big I have gotten." He let out, as I remained silent. He was to busy battling his thoughts to care. I know, I'm not one to talk, but it was true. (Brandon got really fat) I thought to myself. (It probably hasn't been since sophomore year since I have found him attractive.) Once we got back, I quickly left, because time was getting close for Becca to arrive.

I spent my time at a party and decided to head back at 2 am. I walked back to our apartment and saw Brandon shirtless, on the couch, looking at T.V. His boobs out in full display and his fat belly extended to it's full size. It took me some time to realize he was wearing some underwear. He was also surrounded by empty boxes of pizza, beer cans, and a melting tubs of ice cream. He turned to me. His eyes were red with beer and tears.

"She broke up with me, man. She said I was getting too fat. I am not attractive to her anymore. Apparently we haven't been having sex, because my fat ass was crushing her. I told her I would change. I told her I would lose weight. I kept begging her. That's when she told me she been fucking Mike. She has been cheating on me with that asshole. Why him out of anyone?" He let out in burst of rage, sadness and desperation.

Mike was the person who picked on Brandon the most. He gave Brandon the nickname Hog. And, liked making sure Brandon knew how fat and disgusting he was. He also like rubbing his fit athletic body in Brandon's face, trying to remind Brandon about how hot he use to be and how much he let himself go. I moved closer to sit next to Brandon.

"I'm a fat fucking hog. I'm fucking bigger than fat-ass John. I'm the laughing stock of my friends. They probably all knew Mike was fuckin’ my girl. I can't run, anymore. I struggle getting my shoes on. I get out of breathe just by walking out of this building, let alone going up and down the stairs. Apparently, I been crushing my girlfriend trying to get my deeply buried penis in her, to have sex." He yelled and tossed empty pizza boxes across the room."I didn't know you felt like this ... you never said anything thing. You seemed happy." I let out.

"Yeah, I was ... Or maybe I was lying to myself. Maybe I always knew what I know now ... I was such a fool. But, being with Becca helped blind me to the truth. But now that's gone. My life is over. I damaged my body beyond repair. People will always see this before getting to know me." He said pick up his big belly and shaking it. Sending waves of fat throughout his.body. " I will always be the fat disgusting joke. The fat slob that did this to himself. And, I did. I did it to myself. Your lucky. You have stayed the same throughout these years. I would literally kill if it meant I could be skinny like you."

Everything he was saying was hitting me right in the heart. I felt sad for him. The hot jock I once knew sat defeated, now in a body he saw as a prison of fat. When we met I was the fat one and now he called me skinny. He was always good to me and others. Before he was the butt of the joke, he would help the voiceless. But, nobody was there to help him when he was getting mocked. Hesitantly I said, "I have something that could help."

"What are you talking about?" Brandon asked. I was worried because I never tried it again after the first experience."I can make you skinny, right now." I said "Fuck you" he said, "I opened up to you and now you are making fun of me. I never thought you would be like the rest. I'm fat not a fucking idiot." "No ... I'm serious. I can help. But you have to agree. I want you to be okay with it" I pleaded

He looked at me with drunk eyes and sighed "okay ..okay I got nothing to lose. Either you actually do it or I find out your an asshole like the rest.""Okay but before I do it ... I should tell you..." I try to explain. "No just stop and do it. I don't care. If you can make me fit again, I can deal with the consequences. I DON'T want to hear it." He said aggressively and with a little hope starting to form in his voice.

We both became quite. And I just examined his body. Trying to get the feel for my powers again. Trying to find a good place to start. I moved my hand to his fat filled boobs. He shook a little. I started messaging them. I could tell he felt awkward. His face started to become red in embarrassment. Tears formed in his eyes as he felt betrayed. But, he doesn't stop me.

I started to feel bad for putting him in this situation. (He must think I’m an asshole/creep for putting him into this situation. Maybe I didn’t have my powers anymore.) I could feel him starting to pull away, from me. In that moment I wanted nothing more but to help him and apologize.  And, with that, my hands started to warm-up. I could feel energy rushing out of my body and he started to moan. His breast felt like clay in my hands. His moans become more intense, as the fat started dissolving. I kept rubbing his chest down. Once his breast got small enough, I began to form them into pecs. They started becoming rock hard, as if chiseled by a Greek god. I worked on rubbing the rest of his body. Each new body part filled Brandon with Ecstasy. I shrunk his belly and give him rock hard abs. I pumped up his arms and legs with muscle. I gave him a nice juicy ass and tone back. Like a sculpture, I begin to chisel fine details into his body. Getting as close to the first time I met him.

I saw his body pulsating and growing more muscular by the second. He continued to moan in pleasure, as he reaches for my hand. He slowly guided it over his muscular chest and rock hard abs. Finally he stopped at his crotch. And, I could feel what he wanted me to see. His fat pad was still there, drowning his dick in lard. I was hesitant to remove his underwear. But, between the moans and flexing he nodded. I removed his underwear and pushed his fat-pad back. Shrinking it, I revealed his hard 6 inch dick. I start messaging his dick and start stretching it. Slowly I extended it to 7 ... 8 ... stopping at 9 inches. I also rubbed his balls making sure they stayed proportionate to his now larger dick. Finally everything stopped changing as Brandon let loose in one big orgasm, Jizz fountain-ed out of his dick and on to his body, bed, and my hands. With that I was finished, and began to worry what changed inside Brandon's mind.

He reclined on the bed and put his arms behind his head. "Are you okay?" I asked. "Damn your good." He said. "Fuck I can't believe you did it. This fucking got me in the mood for some action." "Well the party might still be going on ... get some chicks ... show off your body." I replied. Still concerned. Did I turn him into a sex addict or is this a normal response?

"Why would I want to fuck a chick. Your the one that gave me this body. And, since I like guys ... I thought you'd deserve the first test drive." He said flirtatiously. My heart raced fast "Oh no! I turned you gay." I let out. Brandon laughed "what's wrong with that. I know you always wanted some of this. Since the first day, I met you, I knew you were gay and had a crush on me. I’m actually surprised you never came out to me. I want to pay you back for what you just did. I mean this will be a one time thing, because we are friends and I don't want to ruin that. But, come on and get it while the offer still stands"

I stood there motionless, as he began making out with me. He didn't seem disturbed by turning gay. And, he is happy. So, I let up and started feeling his rock hard body. He started pushing my head lower. I licked his neck. Then his chest. I made my way through his abs. He stopped at his dick and I began sucking. We fell onto the bed as he moaned. I started rubbing my own cock and I sucked his. He turned me over and shoved his 9 inch cock into me. I scream out in pain. But, it quickly turned into pleasure, as he skillfully moved his now larger cock inside my ass.  As I braced myself on the bed, Brandon moved his hand along my body. He reached for my cock and started to jack me off, as he pumped my ass with his seed.

We both released, as his cum shot-up my ass. And my cum shot onto the bed. We both collapse on the bed, breathing heavy. "Damn, it's actually been a couple months since I had sex." Brandon said in between breaths. "Well this was my second time having sex, and first time as a bottom." I replied. And we both laughed.

The rest of our college lives were fun, but afterwards we naturally went our own ways. I heard he did started up a successful business and began helping his family. But he did teach me a lesson. I had these powers for a reason. Just like Brandon, I was a hero. I could help those who were struggling and give them a chance at a better life. I have heard my Hero’s Call and decided to answer my destiny. So, after getting somethings together, I left my old life. I cut ties to my parents and friends.  If I was going to do this, I had to be completely free. i never stayed anywhere to long.and left soon after helping someone. I never asked for award, but some of these people donated to the cause. I never took more than what I needed.

My first few years were great, but eventually I would learn how magical and complicated the world really was. 

[bbyboybrock--archived]

Serendipity (C.B) | Chapter 3

Summary: Serendipity: (n) the chance occurrence of events in a beneficial way

Popular youtuber Isabella Hart, known as Bella to her audience, bends over backwards to separate her youtube life from her private life. Known for her overall clean content and her bubbly attitude, Isabella has a wild side to her that only those inside the youtube community know about. When Bella meets Colby during one of the trap house parties she finally meets someone she can be her genuine self with. When trouble arises after their meeting, will Bella be able to hand the pressure or will she destroy her relationship with Colby as well as herself in the process. [This starts in 2018]

Written: 2019

Word Count: 3,077

Warnings: swearing

Serendipity Masterlist

"I'm about to leave right now. Bye!" I tell Colby before hanging up my phone.

Today was Colby's turn to plan a date. We've got on 4 dates total if you don't count today. So far we've gone to the beach, the aquarium, drive-in movie, and mini golfing. We've gone a date about once a week for the past few weeks. Because we're both busy doing our own things, him exploring and me working on my channel, we spend more time texting or face-timing. I have no idea what we're doing for this date, Colby refuses to tell me. Whatever he has planned requires me to wait with him at his house. He decided to take this time to introduce me to his roommates.

I'm nervous about meeting them and I don't even know why. Maybe it's because they're like his family. From what Colby told me and what I've seen from videos, they're all really close. I'm nervous to the point where I've changed my outfit four times. I finally decided on wearing ripped black jeans and a grey tank top. The only think Colby told me about tonight is that I can dress comfortably. I slip on a pair of black converse and I grab my jean jacket before walking out.

****

When I get to their house I recheck my makeup and make sure my hair is fine. I decided against straightening my hair and just left it in its natural curly state. When I got to the front door and knocked I only waited a few seconds before Colby opened the door. He engulfs me in a hug and lets me in. I've never seen the inside of the house in the day or without it filled with people. It looks better than the night of the party when I first met Colby. We pass by the infamous kitchen and walk into a room with seven people sitting on the couch. I can vaguely recognize all of them but my eyes lock on Brennen. I know that he's friends with Colby but I didn't know that they were close enough to introduce the girl he's talking with to him.

"Hey guys, this is Isabella. Isabella, these are my roommates Corey, Devyn, Jake, Aaron, and Sam. Then there's Sam's girlfriend Kat who doesn't live here and neither does Brennen." Colby introduces me to everyone who was sitting down. I plaster on a fake smile and avoid looking at Brennen.

"Hi, nice to meet all of you. I've heard so much."

"Actually, I need to finish something. I'll leave you guys alone to get to know each other. I promise I'll be back." Colby says before kissing my forehead. He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze before disappearing upstairs.

I find an empty seat near Kat and sit next to her. I watch as Aaron, Corey, and Jake play a game on the tv.

"So Isabella, how did you and Colby meet?" Kat asks. Her body is fully turned towards me. I can feel Brennen's eyes on me.

"We met here actually. I ran into Colby at the party you guys had six weeks ago. I needed a break from dancing and a refill so I made my way to the kitchen and the rest was history."

"Wow, I can't believe Colby got a girlfriend without actually having to leave the house." Jake retorts.

"Oh no, I'm not— We're not dating. We're just hanging out."

"Well, I can tell you that it's a big deal for Colby to bring any girl over to meet us. I can tell you that as his best friend, he keeps his private life very private. I know that there are a few girls that he's talked to in the past that he wouldn't even mention their names." Sam says. I watch as Kat nudges him and gives him a warning sign.

"He did bring some girls over that we couldn't tell if they were dating or not," Corey says without looking away from the screen.

"Okay, that's enough of that. Isabella, you're coming with us. You boys are allowed to join us when you're ready to not say anything that could scare her away." Devyn gets up and leads Kat and me away from this living room to the next.

"So, tell us something that we can't find out about you on the internet?" Kat asks as we sit down on another couch.

"Um... Oh! I'm currently finishing my third year in university right now."

"Really? Wait, how old are you?"

"I'm 18 but I'm turning 19 next month. I was a scholarship kid at a really fancy private high school that had a deal with the university where we could start taking courses when we were freshmen. I also did AP classes during my last two years so I was doing a dual enrollment thing all of high school."

"I feel like that should be on the internet, like you could be a studytuber or something." Devyn states.

"Trust me, there is a lot of things I can do aren't on the internet for the sole reason being that I don't want to seem like I'm bragging or showing off. I also don't want people treating me like this perfect, multitalented person because I'm flawed. We all are, so why should I be elevated above the rest?"

"I get it. But at the same time, you shouldn't hide because you're afraid of the attention or whatever." Kat reasons.

The three of us talk and I feel more comfortable. While we talk and joke around, the boys slowly come in to join us. First Sam and Brennen came in. Luckily for me, I was sat between both of the girls so Brennen couldn't sit next to me. Jake walked in about 5 minutes later and joined us. Corey and Aaron finally join us about 10 minutes after that. Devyn and Kat divert to the conversation and make sure it moves in a way where I'm still in the loop. All my worries about meeting them are gone. I still feel strange with Brennen near me. I'm surprised he hasn't said anything to anyone.

"Hey, Corey, we got to going to make it in time for the movie," Sam says after checking his phone. Devyn, Corey, Sam, and Kat get up and get ready to go.

"It was nice meeting you, Isabella. I hope you stick around." Devyn says before giving me a quick hug.

"Yeah, we need another girl in the group. These idiots are getting out of hand." Kat gives me a hug and then loops hands with Sam.

The four of them leave and I'm left alone with Jake, Aaron, and Brennen. We all talk some more and get to know each other. Jake crack stupid jokes that make Aaron and I die of laughter. I can tell that Brennen wants to talk to me in private but I'm betting on the chance that Jake and Aaron don't leave and Colby comes back before that happens. A few more minutes pass and I see Colby come down the stairs.

"Sorry about that, I didn't think it would take that long. Are you ready?" Colby places his hand out for me to take. I grab his hand and follow him upstairs. He leads me down a familiar hallway. This time there is a ladder in the middle of it.

"Colbs, is the date in your room?"

"We're not doing that again. Trust me." I watch as Colby climbs up the ladder. I slowly start to climb up too. Colby reaches down when I'm almost at the top and helps me up.

I look around the roof and see a picnic set up with a blanket and food. Surrounding the blanket are fairy lights and fake candles. He must have been setting this up while I was downstairs. I can't help but smile at the effort of this date.

"Wow." I look at Colby and see a stupid grin on his face as he admires his work.

"Come on, sit. On the menu, we have pizza, hot wings, and breadsticks. And before you ask, yes, your half is Hawaiian and my half is normal. We got lemonade and we got a mini cookie pie. We also have a mini arts and crafts project because I know you love art. For entertainment, there is a special playlist that I made specifically for tonight."

"I hate to repeat myself but wow. Someone really paid attention during our first four dates. How long did this take you to do?"

"Too long. Anyway, let's eat before the food gets cold."

Colby and I ate nearly all of the food. We spent more time talking than eating. Colby's playlist kept a calming mood for the whole night. Colby pulls out a bag and starts emptying its contents in front of us. He pulls out two canvases, some paint brushes, and paint. He also brings out some water cups and paper towels and plates.

"So I thought it would be fun for us to paint each other's portraits," Colby says as he passes me supplies.

"Colby, not to judge your artistic ability but I feel like I should warn you that I may take offense to how to paint me." I joke.

"Trust me, I'm a great artist Izzy."

"We'll see. How long do we have? I need to know how to approach this."

"Uh... an hour?"

"Perfect."

I start putting paint onto my plate and taking peeks at Colby's face. I pretty much stare at Colby every time we're together. But now I'm taking in his features. The lighting out here doesn't do justice for Colby's eyes. That's where I spend most of my time looking. I can get lost in his eyes. They calm me and make me feel safe.

I paint slowly and fast at the same time. Every time I look over at Colby I see that he has a stupid smirk on his face but his eyes are concentrated. He looks up every few seconds and then goes back to his painting. The timer goes off and Colby and I both drop our brushes at the same time.

"Okay, maybe you should show yours first. Since this little activity was my idea."

"Here goes nothing I guess," I say as I flip over my canvas. Colby doesn't respond at first, which scares me.

"It's amazing, but I think I have you beat." Colby flips over his canvas and I'm confused at first of what is on his canvas.

Instead of the horribly painted version of me that I was expecting there are words. It takes me a few seconds to register that it reads: "Will you be my girlfriend?" I read the painting over and over again to make sure I read it correctly.

"I-I...uh... Colby, before I can answer I feel like we need to talk." I put down my canvas and fiddle with my fingers.

"Go ahead." He pauses the music and places his canvas down.

"I know that we're both social media people and our lives are pretty much out there. But there is still a part of my life that I like to keep private. So if we do this, then I'd want to keep it a secret. Not forever, just for a little while. Maybe for the first year?"

"Isabella, look, I'm asking you to be my girlfriend because over the past five weeks I genuinely like spending time with you. You make me want to be a better version of myself. I learned a lot from you when you took me to the aquarium. When we talk you try to make me see earlier so that I don't feel as bad about waking up so late and missing a lot of the day. Look, I'm asking you to be my girlfriend because I actually want to be with you, not use you for clickbait. I was going to ask if we could keep our relationship private anyway. Not just because I like my privacy, but mostly because I know that some fans are going to be upset and I don't want those negative individuals hurt you."

"Then yes, I'll be your girlfriend. To be honest, I've been feeling the same way but I didn't know how to go about it."

"Glad to know that we were on the same page. I was actually so scared. Everyone really likes you so I was trying not to screw up."

"So that's why the ambush; it all makes sense. It's kind of like when they throw babies in pools and have them hope for the best. Anyway, I have one question."

"Shoot."

"How do we relationship? Like how does this all work?" Colby knows that I've never dated anyone before so being in this situation leaves me so many questions. Colby chuckles at my question.

"Well for starters, we can spend more time together. You know, instead of one a week maybe two to three times? The rest we figure out as we go along."

"I can do that. Sorry for being such a dork. This is all new to me."

"Don't worry, I'm used to dorks. I live with a lot of them."

"Is this why you had me spend time with your roommates and Brennen? To see if I'm like friend compatible?" I lie down on the blanket and look at the dark sky. The downside of living in the city is the inability to see the stars. You're lucky is you can see a few dots.

"Yeah. I have a lot of friends but that group I know for sure that they're actually my friends. I'm not sure about everyone else. You get it, right?" Colby joins me in laying down. He laced our hands together.

"Oh definitely. I just found it easier to keep my circle very small. You know, only me. Well, you're in my circle too now." I turn my head and see that Colby is looking at me already.

"Well, I'm honored to be in that circle."

For the rest of the night, Colby and I spend time talking more about our relationship. Rules on what types of pranks we can't do on each other and how we are going to navigate in public if we encounter fans. We also talk about how if we hang out here at the house we have to be careful in case someone is doing some sort of social media thing. We figured out how to work around our busy schedules. We decided on one big date every week, a day where we work on either editing our videos or I do homework while Colby edits his videos, and a random day to do whatever.

Colby also added me to a group chat that has his friends in it so we can all get to know each other more. We explained that we're dating and the whole privacy thing. My fans probably won't care if they knew that I was dating someone. That probably has to do with the fact that I don't even mention anything about crushes on my platform. However, if someone even mentions Colby and the word girlfriend in the same context some of his fans will start digging and may figure it out. I think Colby is more scared than I am about the negative fans finding out than I am. I'm petrified because I know I'll get hate comments but I've never gotten hate comments like the ones I've seen posted under anything where Colby is with another girl. The hate comments seem like nothing compared to the one on his stuff. I know Colby's mention either not being friends with some of those girls or having to keep their friendship a secret because of some comments. I can't imagine how scared he is.

****

I went home maybe an hour after our date had ended. I helped Colby take down everything on the roof that way he could go to sleep sooner. When I got home I participated in the group chat a bit. Before hopping into the shower I sent a message asking for everyone to comment their names so I could add them to my contact list. When I got out I made sure that my backpack was ready for class the next day. I flop into bed and check my messages and see that everyone is talking about going to the beach on Saturday. I text them back telling them that I could go. I go up further and add everyone one to my contacts. While going through everyone in the group chat I realized that Brennen was also in it. I never wanted Brennen to have my number but now its too late. After adding the contacts I text Colby good night and that he should go to sleep too. When I'm about to close the messages app I see that I have a text from Brennen.

Brennen: So... that's why you've been avoiding me? I don't get it, u been involved with other guys while we still did our thing.

Me: I've been avoiding you because you have a girlfriend and you didn't tell me after months of us hooking up prior. I'm not going to ruin someone's relationship. And you shouldn't compare me talking to Colby, a guy I actually like, with guys I would hook up with while drunk at parties. Plus, you and I never were never a thing. You wanted to get laid and I wanted to get drunk without the risk of my fake id being inspected.

Brennen: What if I broke up with Kyra? I don't even like her that much. It's not the same anyway, you're way better than she is.

Me: You idiot. You know that Colby and I are dating, you're in the group chat.

Brennen: What Colby doesn't know won't hurt him. Same goes for Kyra, but if you need her to be out of the picture to be comfortable than she's gone.

Me: You're disgusting

Brennen: C'mon Jizzy, I need you right now. Just come over for old time's sake

Brennen sent an unsolicited dick pic with his last text. I quickly delete it not wanting to have it on my phone.

Me: Send me another dick pic and I swear I'll block you AND tell Colby. Fuck off Brennen and leave me alone.

[searchingwardrobes]

Natural Opposite 8/16

* Before writing this fic, I did some -not a ton, but some - research on Dancing With the Stars. Every source I looked at said that the pro dancers on the show are forbidden in their contracts from getting romantically involved with their partners. That's why relationships are only ever "rumored" until after the season is over. While many hook ups have happened - even marriages - nothing is ever official while filming is happening. That doesn't stop the hosts from asking questions, of course, but the dancers and celebs are usually coy about it. Until this season!!! I don't know how many of you watch DWTS, but Alexis Ren told her partner Alan that she was developing feelings for him - on camera. The following week, Alan told her he had feelings for her to, and kissed her! On camera! Believe me, this has NEVER happened before! Derek Hough even got in trouble ages ago when compromising paparazzi pictures came out of him and his partner. I based my fic on what I knew of the show in the past as a fan and through my research. So thanks a lot DWTS for making me seem like I don't know what I'm talking about!

* Once again, many thanks to my artist @optomisticgirl. There isn't chapter art this week, but some AMAZING stuff is coming that I can't wait for ya'll to see!

* And my beta, @distant-rose, was incredible. Her insights on Henry's character especially influenced this chapter. So thanks, Ro!

Also on Ao3

Tagging @bethacaciakay @teamhook @kmomof4 @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kday426 @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @followbatb @onceuponaprincessworld @hollyethecurious @ohmakemeahercules

Chapter Eight: See the Light

Emma snuggled into the corner of the couch with a mug of hot chocolate in her hands. A box of pizza lay open on the coffee table. She honestly couldn’t believe she agreed to this. The rules on how much time partners on the show could spend together was hazy. Romantic relationships were expressly forbidden in everyone’s contracts. However, there were no strict guidelines to prevent them. And honestly, since rumors of romance helped ratings, the producers typically looked the other way.

So the fact that Killian Jones was currently sitting on her living room floor playing video games with her son wasn’t a shock because of contractual agreements. No, it was a shock because Emma Swan didn’t do things like this. She didn’t invite men over to hang out and eat pizza with her and Henry. She enjoyed hanging out with her fellow pros on set, but that was as deep as things ever went. One night stands were also common in Emma’s social life, but she had strict rules for those. It was never anyone she knew (even a first name was more than she needed or asked for), and she never brought them home. Most of her one night stands happened on tour while Henry was spending the summer with Ingrid; a way to release pent up frustrations with her social life.

Killian groaned as he dropped the video game controller in his lap, and Henry fist pumped in victory.

“Hey,” Killian protested, gesturing at the screen, “in my defense, it’s been awhile since I played one of these. They’ve gotten way more complicated. Am I right, Swan?”

Emma shrugged when he turned to her for back up. “I don’t know, or maybe you’ve never had game.”

“Oooh, good one mom!” Henry laughed.

“Ouch,” Killian said, pretending to grimace with genuine hurt, “how quickly my partner turns on me!”

“That’s because I’m her kid, right Mom?” Henry replied with a grin.

Emma smiled back. “True. And because you’re my kid, I also have to tell you it’s bedtime.”

“Aw, Mom!” Henry groaned. “I thought we were gonna watch some Star Wars.”

Killian slapped his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Maybe next time, lad.”

His words caused Emma’s throat to constrict, and she felt a sudden, familiar urge to flee. Killian had talked her into doing this because he said they had to celebrate their great scores. She never expected him to bond with Henry or expect a “next time.”

Henry, however, had no such qualms. “Sweet,” he said, giving Killian a fist pump. Then he brushed a kiss to Emma’s cheek and whispered in her ear, “Thank you, Mom! The kids at school are gonna die!”

Once Henry’s door shut behind him, a slight awkwardness descended on the room. Killian glanced her way, ducking his head when she turned her gaze intently into her mug of cocoa. She took a sip as he grabbed some of the pizza boxes and took them to the fridge.

“I wonder why Elsa’s not home yet,” she muttered. The words fell flat. Why should he care where her roommate was?

“You want these boxes taking up your fridge, or should I get some aluminum foil or something?” Killian asked, pausing in front of the open refrigerator.

Emma waved her hand. “Oh, just shove the boxes in. Henry will scarf the rest down in no time.”

Killian nodded and did as she asked. Then he shuffled awkwardly in the middle of her kitchen. “He’s a good kid, Henry.”

Emma smiled wistfully. “The best.”

Killian eyed her a bit warily as he came closer and eased down next to her on the couch. He was treating her as if she were a skittish animal who might bite him. She rolled her eyes. This was ridiculous! They were in each other’s personal space constantly rehearsing and dancing. Why was it awkward now? Emma shifted away from the corner of the couch and offered Killian half her blanket. He shook his head that he was fine, but the gesture had its intended effect. He relaxed and settled back against the couch, flinging his arm across the back of it, his hand resting just behind her shoulder.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked.

Emma hesitated, biting her lip.

“I think I’ve earned it, don’t you?” he asked her softly.

She set her mug down on the coffee table. “I thought my life was an open book. With everything reality TV has dug up.”

Killian nodded. “Aye, but you managed to keep some things private.”

Emma held her breath, clutching the blanket in her fists. Henry’s dad. That was the only thing he could be referring to.

“Why is your name Swan and David’s isn’t?”

Emma let out a long, relieved breath. If Killian picked up on her emotional reaction, he didn’t let on. “That’s simple, really. He’s an optimist. I’m not.”

Killian tilted his head. “Meaning?”

“He still clings to the hope that our parents had a good reason for doing what they did. I just can’t. Who leaves their babies on the side of the highway? We could have been killed!” Emma toyed with a frayed edge of the blanket. “Our names were stitched into our baby blankets. We both still have them, actually. David thinks it’s a sign,that they loved us.” Emma shrugged.

Killian nodded thoughtfully. “Has he tried to find them? I mean, I’m guessing it’s possible if you know their last name was Nolan.”

“Yeah,” Emma answered as she picked up her mug again, “social workers found records at a local hospital of twins named David and Emma Nolan being born a week before we were found. To a Ruth and Robert Nolan. But they must have changed their names or something, because after that, they completely fell off the grid.”

“So they don’t want to be found.”

“Exactly.” Emma agreed, sitting up and clutching her mug tighter. “I’ve tried to tell him a million times to drop it, but . . . every once and awhile, he starts digging again. Ingrid’s the one who loved us and accepted us. She’s the one who gave us a home.”

Emma stared off in the distance, thinking back to the dance class she and David took at the Boy’s and Girl’s club. They were eleven years old and in a group home. Ingrid volunteered her time teaching the dance lessons. Emma always loved how patient she was, so calm. Her gentle smile when she told Emma that she had raw talent was like someone offering a cup of water in a desert.

“I hated how people judged Ingrid,” Emma said aloud. “They tried to make it seem like she only cared about grooming David and I for stardom. Elsa too. But it wasn’t like that. She wasn’t some crazy stage mom. We all just love to dance.”

“What about your other sister, Anna?”

Emma chuckled. “I’m surprised you even know about her.” Emma cut her eyes to look at Killian. “Did you cyber stalk me?”

He shrugged and gave her that disarming smile of his. “I had to learn a little bit about my partner. And actually, I have a confession.” He took a deep breath, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I was a fan. When you were on So You Think You Can Dance. When I said I was hoping it would be you, I meant it.”

Emma blinked, her throat suddenly going dry. “You . . . were a fan?” she finally squeaked.

Killian raised his hands quickly. “I’m not saying I had some celebrity crush.”

Emma exhaled loudly and they both laughed. “Good, I was starting to worry you were a stalker.”

“No, I always liked that show. The performances are so incredible.”

Emma’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Thank you. But you said before you never watched Dancing with the Stars. So why do it?”

“I know Regina told you. This is Neverland’s final season. Do you know how many TV stars have one hit show and little to no career afterwards?”

Emma abandoned her mug for good and leaned against the back of the couch, shifting to face him, “A lot, now that I think about it.”

“Exactly. And a lot of times it’s because people see them only as that character they played. Captain Hook is a larger-than-life role. I wanted people to see that there’s more to me.” Killian shrugged. “And I know the tabloid stories haven’t helped. I won’t lie – I got caught up in the sudden fame at first. Partying almost every night, keeping my romantic entanglements . . . casual.” He blushed as he glanced her way. “So you were right about me, Emma. But Rose and other friends helped snap me out of it. And I’ve left that all behind. I’m trying to be a better man.”

Emma tapped the arm of the couch. “You don’t have to defend your past to me. I get it.”

Killian seemed to visibly relax at that. “Good. So . . . your other sister?”

Emma nodded. “Anna. Well, poor thing was the clutz of the family. Tried dance classes when she was little, but it just wasn’t her cup of tea. Anyone who claims Ingrid was just adopting kids with dance talent should see her with Anna. She’s the reason Ingrid moved out to Colorado.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Anna and her husband Kristoff run a ski lodge out there. They’ve got four rambunctious boys who are seven, five, three, and eight months.”

Killian whistled, his eyebrows raising to his hairline. “She’s got her hands full!”

“Which is exactly why Ingrid’s out there. She needed the help desperately.”

Silence fell between them, but not an awkward one. Emma rose and took her mug to the sink, pouring the last bit of hot chocolate down the drain. Once she’d rinsed it and set it in the dishwasher, she turned to find Killian up and collecting his jacket.

“I should probably get home,” he told her, “we have to start a whole new dance first thing in the morning, right?”

“Right,” Emma agreed with a nod and followed him to the door. She was genuinely surprised that he hadn’t pried about Henry’s dad. It also made her like him a bit more. As a friend, anyway.

He opened the door, then turned to her with a light in his eyes and mischief in his smile. “It was a lovely evening, Swan,” he told her, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips. His eyes never left hers as they lingered there for half a beat.

Emma scowled and snatched her hand away. “Why do you have to go and do that?”

Killian’s eyes widened. “Do what?”

“Get flirty like that. We were talking, and having a nice evening, and then you have to go and ruin it.”

Killian arched a brow at her. “And how did I ruin it, exactly? I merely thanked you for the nice time we spent together.”

“This wasn’t a date,” Emma hissed through her teeth.

He sauntered closer to her, leaning down to whisper in her ear, his breath fanning hot across her cheek. “And yet, you’re the one who brought up the subject. You sure it didn’t feel like a date?” Killian pulled back, grinning at her scandalously, his tongue darting out of the corner of his mouth. “Or were you waiting for a goodnight kiss?”

“You’re full of it Killian Jones,” she snapped, giving him a firm push out the door. “I’m not so sure you’ve changed at all.” Then she slammed the door in his handsome, cocky face.

Emma jumped when she turned to find Henry standing in the hallway behind her.

“Why were you so mean to him?” Henry accused. “I like him!”

Emma sagged against the door, rubbing her forehead wearily. “He’s an actor, Henry. You can’t trust him.”

Henry stood there, regarding her silently for a moment. “I think he likes you, Mom. And not every guy is like my dad. Not every guy’s gonna leave you.”

Henry didn’t wait for her to respond. He just turned and went back to his room, shutting the door gently behind him. Emma turned and pressed her forehead to the door with a groan. She couldn’t figure out Killian Jones. There were times he was full of swagger, then other times he was sweet and even a bit nerdy. Sometimes he seemed he wanted to be her friend, then other times it felt he wanted more. Then there were times he flirted outrageously and it seemed all he wanted was to get in her pants.

Emma pushed away from the door, resolute. It didn’t matter. They had a show to win. And after that, they would go their separate ways. She loved Henry, but he was too young to understand what men like Killian Jones were really like.

************************************************************

Emma dashed up and down the corridors backstage, swearing under her breath. This was the last thing she needed right now – a missing partner. She was already having to deal with a thick blonde Rapunzel wig that weighed a ton and a gimmick for their routine which hadn’t worked at all in dress rehearsals.

It was Disney week, and Killian had been both relieved and excited when they had been assigned a waltz to “I See the Light” from Tangled.

“I was worried they would make me Captain Hook – the cartoon version,” he had told her honestly.

“What?” she had teased. “Waxed mustaches and perms aren’t your thing?”

Despite the door slam to his face at her apartment, Killian had gone right back to their usual friendly, sometimes snarky banter. The only stress, honestly, this past week was the pressure they felt to deliver another high scoring routine. It may have been why Emma decided to open their number with Emma in a tower. Literally. It involved wires and the two of them actually rappelling down the side of a fake tower. Seriously. What had she been thinking?

And now it was only ten minutes till show time, and Killian had disappeared. Suddenly, Belle crashed right into Emma. She wore a blue dress identical to the one her namesake wore in the opening scene of Beauty and the Beast. She and Jefferson were doing a quickstep to “Bonjour,” with Jefferson as Gaston. They really had cast everyone perfectly, including Killian, who made an excellent Flynn Ryder.

But suddenly, Emma realized that Belle was trembling and crying. “Belle? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I – I didn’t mean to cause any trouble . . . I was looking for Jefferson . . . “

Emma hurried past Belle when she saw Killian behind the brunette, shoving Robert Gold into a wall. Killian held the other man, who was dressed like Facilier from The Princess and the Frog, by the front of his shirt.

“Killian!” Emma called out. “What the hell?”

The snarl that had marred Killian’s face melted when he saw Emma. Belle ran past her then with Jefferson at her heels. She ran forward and pulled gently on Killian’s arm. He allowed her to pry him free of Gold.

“He’s not worth it, Killian, please,” Belle spoke to him gently, “you’ll only get yourself in trouble.”

Killian deflated and nodded, giving Belle a tremulous smile. Then he turned to Gold and got right in the man’s face.

“I’m honoring the ladies’ wishes. A quality of a gentleman that I suggest you learn.”

Killian turned away, jaw clenching even as Gold laughed sarcastically. Jefferson shoved the older man in the shoulder and told him to shut the hell up before escorting Belle towards the dance floor. As she and Killian fell in step behind them, she elbowed him in the ribs.

“So, you, uh . . . want to explain what that was all about?”

Killian rubbed his jaw and continued scowling. “It just angers me when a man won’t take no for an answer.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “If Mr. Gold has hurt Belle, the producers won’t stand for it. I mean she needs to –“

“No,” Killian assured her quickly, “it isn’t that. He just keeps pestering her to go out with him. She tried to be nice at first, but it’s gotten to where he just won’t leave her alone. I caught him taking her by the arm just now, and when she tried to pull away . . . “

Emma squeezed his bicep, as they neared the wings. The introduction was already playing, and they had to make their appearance in less than five minutes. “Hey, I get it. The man’s a jerk, but you’ve got to calm down. Think of it as acting. Okay, Flynn Ryder?”

Killian grinned down at her, slipping easily into character, his hair falling rakishly over his eyes. “Are you ready for the smolder?” he teased.

Emma rolled her eyes, but was secretly relieved to have such an utter professional as a partner. They came out on stage doing the little bit they had practiced. A stagehand gave Emma her prop: a frying pan, and she made a big show of threatening Killian with it while he waggled his eyebrows charmingly. The rest of the cast was announced to roaring applause. Disney week was always popular.

Luckily, their dance came early in the show. Emma wanted to get their risky stunt out of the way so they could enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Killian came to the tower and made a show of calling up for “Rapunzel” to let down her hair, then grasped onto the vines snaking around it to climb up to her. They embraced at the window, then repelled down the tower together on the system of wires. Once at the bottom, they unsnapped the harnesses and started the waltz.

Once the opening stunt was out of the way, Emma fully enjoyed their waltz. It had been the easiest dance style for Killian to pick up, having done it on episodes of Neverland. Emma felt like a true Disney princess in her lavender gown, and the lanterns dangling from the ceiling washed the entire dance floor in a romantic glow.

“All at once, everything is different,” sang the studio band as Killian sank to one knee. Emma sat on the knee he offered, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her forehead to his. “Now that I see you,” the singers crooned the final line of the song.

Emma cheered, shaking Killian’s shoulders excitedly, knowing it was the best they had danced it. The studio audience agreed, cheering and surging to their feet. The cheers soon turned to boos, however, when Blue complained about the elaborate opening, telling them they should just stick to the waltz. Tiana and Teach weren’t all that thrilled with the stunt either, and in the end, they got two 8s and one 9 (from Tiana, of course). Emma was more frustrated this time than Killian, and as soon as they suffered through a short interview with Ashley, she stalked backstage in irritation.

Killian found her leaning against a wall backstage, her arms crossed tight around her. She knew the cameras couldn’t be far behind. It didn’t stop Killian from putting his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“I think we killed it,” he told her.

Emma sighed and rolled her eyes.

“You know I can actually feel it when you roll your eyes at me?”

That managed to get a chuckle out of her. He eased her around to face him, gently lifting her chin so their eyes met.

“I just feel like I cost us a better score with my stupid tower idea,” Emma said, gesturing with her arms in irritation.

Killian shrugged. “The scores were still pretty good.”

“But we’re favorites now! The judges are going to keep nitpicking us, and I let the pressure get to me this week.”

He pulled her into a hug, and even though she knew this would probably end up in the recap footage next week, she let him.

************************************************************

The studio audience and the celebrities were shocked when it was announced that no one would be going home this week. The pros, on the other hand, pretended to be shocked. There was always a “non-elimination” week, and nine times out of ten, it was Disney week. Killian turned to her with a grin and a hug once the taping was over, but Emma was less enthusiastic.

“That means there will be a double elimination next week, so don’t get cocky, Jones.”

Liam came out on the dance floor to join them, giving them both hearty hugs. “Great job, little brother!”

Killian opened his mouth as if to correct him, then seemed to decide it wasn’t worth his breath. “Thanks,” he said instead.

Liam’s eyes suddenly lit up as he glanced over Killian’s shoulder. “Belle! Lovely to see you again! You were perfectly cast, of course.”

“Thank you,” Belle replied, grasping her skirt and making a little exaggerated bow. “With my name and a vlog called Beauty and Brains I was sort of asking for it.”

“Have you two watched Belle’s youtube channel?” Liam asked Emma and Killian. “It’s incredible! She gives young women fashion and makeup tips but also recommends classic literature for them to read.”

Killian glanced at Emma, his eyes alight as he quirked a brow. “And my brother is watching a fashion vlog . . . why? Need eyeliner tips, Liam?”

Liam turned a bright shade of red and started gaping like a fish. Belle, meanwhile, smiled up at him beneath her batting lashes. “I think it’s sweet,” was all she said as she took his hand and gave it a squeeze. Jefferson called for her then, and she dashed off, leaving a bewildered Liam behind.

“Liam,” Emma said, clearing her throat, “I thought you’d be heading back home by now.”

“Umm . . . I’ve . . . decided to stay a bit longer,” he murmured distractedly, his eyes still fixed on Belle’s retreating form.

Killian gave his brother a little shove. “Then go talk to her, you git.”

Emma and Killian both laughed as he nervously approached the petite brunette. Emma turned her head from studying the elder Jones brother to study the younger one. His face was relaxed, his eyes filled with delight as he watched his brother smile and laugh with Belle. As if he felt her eyes on him, Killian turned to her suddenly. She blushed and glanced quickly away.

“It was the smolder again, wasn’t it?” he teased. “I really can’t control it, you know.”

Emma rolled her eyes and punched him lightly in the gut. “And what I wouldn’t give for a frying pan right now,” she quipped.

[my-one-love-is-music]

The Proposal Proposition

Summary: Tim knew getting involved with a scheme that required him to be in any form of pretend romantic relationship with Jason Todd was a terrible idea. He'd had a crush on him since they'd met during his first year of college and now they were going to get married to win more financial aid. Tim was an idiot for doing this and he knew the fallout would kill him when it came but he was finding it hard to care when it meant he got to have Jason pressed against his side as they walked across campus and matching rings decorating their fingers.

A/N: My prompt fill for day four of jaytimweek: vegas wedding/college. I had a lot of fun smashing these prompts together and have wanted to write a fic with this premise for a long time so I'm happy to finally share it with all of you!

Also on AO3!

Jason: Okay, so I know this may seem kind of weird and I know you don’t exactly need the money, but have you ever considered those schemes where people get married to get extra help with their financial aid?

Tim stared at his phone, eyes wide and trying to make sense of the text that he’d woken up to. The text that was timestamped at 3:45 that morning.

He didn’t even bother typing out a response and called Jason instead. He didn’t know if he would be up, but he didn’t have a class, so any loss of sleep was his own fault because you didn’t just text people talking about getting married for financial aid and in the middle of the night no less.

He tapped his finger against the back of his phone as he walked across campus, mug of coffee held tightly in his hand. The air had a bit of a chill to it. The cooler fall weather would be coming soon. He’d need to remember to unbox his countless hoodies that he’d managed to collect over the years to keep warm on his way to class.

“Hello?” Jason finally answered, sounding groggy. “Is this…? Tim? Why are you calling so early?”

“Maybe because you decided to text me in the middle of the night asking about people who get married to get additional financial aid benefits for college,” he answered, taking a sip of his coffee. “And I have one question in response to that: what the fuck?”

“Oh that,” Jason said, sounding more awake and Tim could almost imagine him flopping onto his back in bed, one hand resting on his stomach as he stared at the ceiling with his phone pressed against his ear. “Yeah, I found out that you can get added financial aid if you’re married and I know you don’t really need it, but I’ve kind of been struggling with finances and figured that the less debt I have to pay, the better.”

Tim froze, coffee halfway to his mouth. “Jason,” he asked slowly, “are you asking me to marry you for financial aid?”

“Kind of?” he said. “I mean, I guess, yeah. There’s no one else I can really ask, and I know it’s kind of stupid, but I thought…I mean if you don’t want to that’s fine…”

“Okay here’s what we’re going to do,” Tim said, fighting down the butterflies in his stomach. “I’m going to go to class and you’re going to go to class. And then tonight when we’re both done with class, we’re going to order a pizza and sit in your dorm room and talk about this because I’m still really confused.”

“Oh, sure,” he agreed. “We can do that. You want pepperoni and mushroom?”

“Duh,” Tim said with a grin as he rolled his eyes. “And don’t forget the breadsticks.”

“What kind of monster do you take me for?” he scoffed. “We can’t order pizza and not get breadsticks.”

“Is five good?”

“Not today. I have to meet with my advisor after my afternoon class. Make it six?”

“Sure, works for me,” Tim said, finally getting his feet to move again.

“Cool. See you later.”

“Later,” Tim said, ending the call. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and adjusted the straps of his backpack on his shoulders. Today was going to prove to be an interesting day and he knew that his curiosity over what Jason was proposing was going to make his classes nearly insufferable to sit through.

~~

“So, what you’re saying is that you want me and you to get married so that you can get more financial aid benefits for college?” Tim asked around a mouthful of pizza.

“Yeah, basically,” Jason said, finally getting over his initial embarrassment at having to explain the whole situation.

Tim nodded and continued to chew. He was a little amazed at how much work Jason had put into the whole idea and the research that had gone into it. It also explained why he’d gotten the text in the middle of the night and not a more reasonable hour.

The idea wasn’t terrible, and they could get a divorce once college was taken care of. They’d been friends for years so getting along wouldn’t be a problem, even if Jason kind of deplored Tim’s living habits when he didn’t clean for a few weeks.

The only hiccup that could happen would be Tim’s problem. Which could prove to be difficult if he was in close proximity to Jason for a long time.

“You do realize we’re going to have to live together to make this work, right?” Tim asked, trying to make Jason reject the idea instead of him since he liked the thought of them being married a little too much.

Jason shrugged, and Tim squinted when he thought his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “Yeah, I thought about that. But I don’t have a roommate right now, so you could always move into my dorm with me. I’m sure it won’t be too difficult to work around with housing, especially when we show them our marriage certificate and all that,” he explained, reaching over to swipe a breadstick from the box.

Tim nodded. “Our friends are going to lose their shit.”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, I assumed as much.”

“The media probably will, too. Are you prepared to deal with what comes with being with a Drake?”

Jason shrugged. “I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t deal with.”

Tim nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Jason asked. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “You’ll do it?”

He nodded again, trying to push down the sour feeling that none of this would mean anything to Jason, but it would mean the world to him. “Why not? It’ll help you and I’ll get some benefits, too. And I think it could be fun. We just have to figure out who’s doing holidays.”

“We’ll probably have to do Christmas with your parents since they throw that big party every year,” Jason said, finally sitting back to munch on his breadstick.

“Yeah,” Tim sighed, rolling his eyes. “Plus, all of the socialites are going to want to see my new husband.”

“Am I allowed to scandalize them?” Jason asked with a grin.

Tim grinned. “Stumble out of the coat closet with our clothes rumpled to make them think we were doing things?” he asked.

“That’s not a bad idea,” he mused. “I was thinking more of sticking my tongue down you throat under the mistletoe.”

“That would give them the chance to take more pictures, but the closet would really get them talking. So, if you want to be the hot topic of all the gossip circles, that’s how it’s going to be done.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jason said, snagging another breadstick. “And for Thanksgiving we can chill here and watch ridiculous movies while we eat takeout in our pajamas.”

Tim groaned. “That sounds so much better than the four-course meal my family usually sets up for the holiday. I have to wear a suit. There’s three of us and I’m expected to wear a suit. It’s ridiculous.”

Jason made a face. “Ew. I’m surprised your parents don’t host a whole charity gala since it’s the perfect time to be thankful and help others be thankful too or some shit.”

“That’s Bruce Wayne’s thing,” Tim said, waving his hand. “And my mother and father don’t want to seem like they’re copying or trying to compete with him. Even though everyone who’s rich is actually competing with each other to hold the best parties and have the best houses and belongings, there’s this unspoken rule that it can’t look like they’re competing. Although we might win Christmas this year thanks to you.”

“We could probably win Thanksgiving too if the media scandal doesn’t die down enough.”

“Speaking of,” Tim said, straightening. “When are we doing this?”

Jason hummed and twisted around, grabbing his planner from his bed. He flipped open to the current month. “We’ve got fall break coming up. We could fly out then and make this happen if you’re good with that.”

“That’s just a couple weeks away, right?” Tim asked, pulling his laptop from his backpack.

“Yeah,” Jason said with a nod.

“Let me pull up flights to Vegas to see what we can do…”

Jason chewed on another slice of pizza while Tim skimmed the flight times and prices to get out there.

“Hey Jay?” Tim asked, looking up with a smirk pulling at his lips.

Jason raised an eyebrow in silent question.

“How do you feel about flying first class?”

Jason grinned. “I think it’s only appropriate for a pair of newlyweds.”

“And the honeymoon suite?” he asked, pulling out the credit cards his parents had given him to keep him occupied and out of their hair.

“Could we really stay in anything less?” Jason scoffed.

Tim snickered. “We can fly out there on a Tuesday morning and fly back on Saturday so we have time to settle in. We’ll have to start working out the legal stuff as soon as we’re back though.”

“Sounds like a great vacation,” Jason agreed. “Do we have to make reservations at Vegas chapels?” He opened the lid of his laptop and started on a quick search of Vegas wedding chapels. He grinned when he clicked on the first service that popped up. “Hey Tim, how do you feel about getting married in a Gazebo at sunset?”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Fancy.”

“We can get the cheapest package since we’re not going to have any guests. What are we going to wear?”

“Tuxes, duh,” Tim mumbled, reading over something on his computer. “We have to make it look good.”

“Oh my god,” Jason breathed, feeling glee fill him.

“What?” Tim asked.

“You can live stream other people’s weddings,” Jason said, mirth shining in his eyes.

Tim frowned and set his laptop to the side, crawling over to him so he could look at his screen. “You mean you can just watch a complete stranger get married?”

“Yes,” Jason said, laughing. “We should totally do this! The media would go crazy!”

Tim grinned. “I can tweet out the video link before our wedding.”

“We even get roundtrip limo service to the venue from our hotel through this package,” Jason continued.

“What do they have open?”

Jason hummed and clicked on the dates for when they’d be in. We could do that Wednesday at 8?” he asked, looking at Tim who nodded.

“Sounds good. Let me get my wallet and we can reserve it.” Tim grabbed his wallet from where he’d been sitting and leaned against the bed next to Jason, their thighs pressing together as Tim took Jason’s laptop and continued to the booking page.

He typed in his personal information and paused when it asked for a phone number. “Do you want this under your name or mine?”

“Do you know anything about wedding decorations?” Jason asked.

“No. Do you?”

“Nope,” Jason said, crossing his arms. “But you do have more experience with fancy parties and shit.”

“Okay,” Tim sighed and shrugged, putting in his phone number. He waited as the screen refreshed and their package page was brought up. “Do you want to change any of these details or are you fine with the default?” Tim asked, scrolling down the page.

“How do you feel about red roses?” Jason murmured.

Tim shrugged, changing the color scheme and the rose petal choice to red. “Works for me. Anything else? We aren’t exactly going to have any guests unless a sudden influx of reporters show up.”

“What about a cake or reception?” Jason asked. “We can’t not have wedding cake. You only get married so many times.”

Tim chuckled. “We can order champagne and dessert from the hotel. I’m sure they’ll have lots of options that are ten times better than whatever grocery store cake these people buy.”

“Fair enough,” Jason agreed.

“We don’t need their tuxedo rental either,” Tim said. “I have my own and I know a place here in Gotham we can get you fitted at.” He clicked through the rest of the options, confirming the details before he was brought to a payment page. He selected to pay in full and pulled his credit card out of his wallet, filling in his information.

The mouse hovered over the ‘Pay’ button and he looked up at Jason.

“Last chance to back out,” he said.

“Do it,” Jason agreed.

Tim hit the button and the screen changed, wedding bells and confetti floating down over the screen as a large ‘Congratulations!’ flashed.

“You are the one who’s going to carry the bouquet, right?” Jason asked.

Tim rolled his eyes and shoved at Jason’s shoulder as he laughed. “I’m so going to be the one who proposes the divorce,” Tim muttered.

“Damn, we haven’t even gotten married yet and you’re already planning on pulling the plug.”

“I would say I’m marrying you for your money, but you don’t have any,” Tim said, sticking his tongue out at Jason.

“Why you little…” he grabbed Tim around the waist as Tim screeched, kicking out his legs to try and get away from the merciless dig of Jason’s fingers into his sides.

He dissolved into giggles, bucking and squirming in Jason’s arms during the relentless attack.

“Jason noooo,” he cried around gasps for air. “Let me go!”

“Haven’t you realized it yet, Tim?” Jason said, voice low and dangerous in his ear. “We’re about to be married. You can’t get rid of me that easily anymore.”

Tim hoped his shiver was hidden while he continued to try and extricate himself from Jason’s grasp. He didn’t need the lick of heat in his stomach to get the better of him and make him do something stupid.

But he was already doing something stupid. Because he’d agreed to marry his best friend for financial aid when he was already practically in love with him.

~~

School helped to keep Tim’s mind off the countdown to the wedding. What sent him spiraling back into horrified acceptance as he tried to deal with his little problem was the phone calls from the wedding chapel.

“Hello?” he asked, picking up his phone that was vibrating for attention in his pocket.

“Hello is this Tim Drake?” a woman asked.

“Yes,” he hedged.

“Hi Tim, this is Debbie with Chapel of the Flowers. I’m going to be your complimentary wedding planner as we approach you and your fiancé’s big day,” she explained brightly.

Tim’s steps faltered. “I thought that everything was already taken care of through the booking on the website.”

“Oh most of it is,” she reassured. “But in case you want to change any arrangements we can take care of that over the phone. And we’ll also confirm your hotel details to make sure the limousine picks you up at the correct place and time. Now, I noticed that you didn’t include a wedding cake or reception in your service. Is that correct? Because I can assure you the cakes we supply are absolutely to die for.”

Tim smiled wryly at the statement. “We’ll keep that in mind, but at this point we weren’t planning on a reception. This…ceremony,” he said carefully, “is more of a private matter between my fiancé and I. We don’t have any other guests who will be attending the wedding.”

“I see,” Debbie said, sounding unhappy. “Well, if you do change your mind, we have a staff that can come and act as guests for your wedding if you do decide you would like other people present.”

Tim practically gaped, trying to find something to say. “Um, thanks,” he said slowly. “I’ll let you know if that’s an offer we’d like to take you up on.”

“Of course the pricing for that arrangement is dependent on how many guests you would like, but we can work out the details of that later.”

Tim nodded even though he couldn’t see her and rubbed his finger against his temple, wondering what the hell he’d gotten involved in. “Well, if that’s all…” he hedged.

“Right, of course!” she said. “I will mark down that you would like everything as you’ve already specified. I’ll give you another call when we get closer to the date of the wedding and if there’s anything you’d like changed before then or if you’re anxious about the big day you’re more than welcome to call me back at this number.”

“What do you mean anxious?” Tim couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Oh you know, we have some couples who’ve had anxiety with something that’s such a big commitment and they might have a little bit of doubt after making the deposit. Small cases of cold feet and things like that. I help counsel couples through it.”

“Okay, well if I need to talk to you about any of that I will certainly let you know,” Tim said, starting to feel a little uncomfortable.

“Certainly! Have a good day, Tim!”

“You too,” he mumbled before hanging up the phone. He shook his head and shoved it into his pocket, hurrying up the steps to the dining hall where he was meeting Jason for dinner.

He swiped his student ID as he walked in and slipped around the corner to get to the back corner of the dining hall. The table he usually occupied with Jason was empty. He dropped off his bag and made for one of the food stations, grabbing a burger and fries for dinner.

Tim sat sideways in the chair closest to the wall so he could lean against it and prop his foot up on the chair next to him. He swiped a fry through his ketchup and looked up to find Jason stomping over towards him, fists clenched at his sides and scowl gracing his face like he was on the verge of murdering someone.

“You okay?” Tim asked.

Jason dropped his backpack in the free chair across from him and held up a finger. “I need food first. Maybe dessert before anything else.”

“Grab me a brownie if you’re going over there,” Tim called as he spun around and made his way to the meal lines.

Tim managed to finish his burger and was almost done with his fries before Jason made it back with his own bowl of stir-fry and a generous plate of desserts in tow. He set the plate in the middle of the table and angrily scooped up a bite of stir-fry with a spoon, shoving it into his mouth.

“What happened?” Tim finally asked.

Jason glanced up at him and sagged against his chair. “My fucking science professor has a paper due next week and we were supposed to get the assignment for it two weeks ago and he expects all of us to write this eight-page paper with graphs and an appendix by Monday even though he just gave us the assignment. And that doesn’t even count the fact that he hasn’t returned our last papers so none of us have any idea if we’re on the right track with what he wants as far as writing style goes.”

He huffed and stirred the food in his bowl. “I wouldn’t even be in this class if it wasn’t required. I don’t know anything about science,” he mumbled, finally losing steam.

Tim frowned. “So, he’s making this paper, that he just gave you, due right before Fall break?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

“I know.”

“Good luck.”

Jason smiled ruefully. “I’m going to die.”

“I’ll mourn you.”

“You’re going to be a widow.”

Tim smirked and swiped a brownie from the plate. “Can’t be a widow if we’re not even married yet.”

“Hopefully the police won’t come after you.”

“If they do, I’ll just tell them what happened: you had a heart attack from the stress of having to write a paper.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “So, you already know how I’m going to die? That’s not suspicious at all.”

Tim grinned, his teeth glinting dangerously underneath the dining hall lights despite the flecks of brownie stuck between his teeth. “I know how to make things look like an accident.”

“You’re evil.”

Tim shrugged. “Maybe a little bit. But I can’t be that evil if I agreed to marry you for a scam to get more federal loan money.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jason said, some of his good cheer returning. “It’s not a scam. We’re actually getting married. We’re not lying about anything.”

“Except our undying love for each other,” he muttered, even though it wasn’t exactly a lie for him.

Jason waved his hand. “That’s what marriages of convenience are all about. By the time senior year rolls around, the stress will have become too much for us and made our marriage fall apart.”

“Now who’s being suspicious and planning things ahead of time?” Tim asked.

Jason scoffed. “You love it.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He swiped another brownie from the plate just to make a point.

~~

Tim carefully cradled one of the two coffee cups in his elbow to free his other hand to knock on the door. He heard a muffled groan come from inside before something creaked. A shout sounded and a loud thump.

Tim stared at the door when the lock and handle started to rattle. It was pulled open to reveal an exhausted and messy Jason in the doorway. He fought to keep his gaze off how Jason’s hair stuck up in four different directions, wondering how it would feel to run his fingers through it and comb it back into place.

“Oh my god, is that coffee?” he asked, staring at the drinks in Tim’s arms. “I fucking love you if one of those is mine.”

“One of them is,” Tim said, holding out the right cup. “I didn’t buy two coffees for myself.”

“You have before,” Jason mumbled against the lid as he proceeded to chug half the cup. He stepped to the side and let Tim inside. He walked over to the beanbag in the corner of the room and sat down while Jason closed the door behind him.

The coffee table was covered with books and papers, Jason’s laptop sitting open in the middle of it all. Jason sat down in front of it, legs splaying out over the carpet.

“What was that thump earlier?” Tim finally asked when Jason was slowing his coffee intake.

Jason coughed and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, cheeks turning pink. “I um…I tripped and fell.”

Tim stared at him for a minute before he broke out into hysterical giggles, hand clutching his side as he fought to keep from spilling his coffee.

“Oh my god,” he gasped when they finally started to subside. “How tired are you that you tripped in the middle of your own dorm room?”

“I’m exhausted okay?” Jason snapped, setting his cup down on the coffee table. “I’ve been working on this paper all weekend and haven’t even touched the reading I have to do for my three literature classes.”

“How much do you have left?” Tim asked, taking a sip from his cup.

“I just told you I hadn’t started on it! It’s 600 pages of-“

“Not the literature reading,” Tim said with a roll of his eyes. “How much of the paper do you have left.”

“Oh,” Jason said. He grinned, and it looked as manic as he was probably feeling after foregoing sleep and busting his ass to write a paper over the weekend. “I just have the conclusion left to write and then I need to slap together a works cited page.”

“Then don’t let me stop you,” Tim said, waving his hand. “Get it done.”

Jason looked at his computer and grimaced. “I think I’ll finish my coffee first.”

“Yeah, but the sooner you get done, the sooner you can nap,” Tim pointed out.

“This thing isn’t going to get edited.”

Tim snorted. “Do college papers ever?”

He grinned. “Nope.”

Tim kicked off his shoes as Jason bent over his computer and started typing. It wasn’t long before the last paragraph was done and he was flipping through the articles he’d borrowed from the library to take down his source information.

“There,” Jason said, clicking something on his computer before he sat back. “I’m finally done.”

“Time for a nap?” Tim asked.

“I think I might be too wired from sleep deprivation and caffeine to sleep. Movie?”

He shrugged. “Sure. I don’t have anywhere else I need to be.”

Jason pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his computer. He climbed onto his bed, pushing all the pillows against his headboard as he pulled up Netflix on his computer. Tim didn’t hesitate, climbing into bed next to him and fluffing the pillow behind his head as Jason rested the computer on both of their thighs.

Tim sighed, relaxing into the unforgiving university-distributed mattress as best he could as they settled in for what was probably going to be a t.v. show binge or mini movie marathon as Jason fought to forget the horrors of the past few days.

~~

Jason pushed through the door to Tim’s dorm room, stomping angrily across the floor. Tim raised an eyebrow where he was seated on his bed, shoving a handful of cheeseballs into his mouth while sitting around in one of Jason’s hoodies that he’d stolen and his boxer briefs.

“What’s up?” he asked, setting his business ethics textbook to the side.

“So you know how my professor assigned that stupid paper that he made be due today and I busted my ass all weekend to get done?”

Tim felt his stomach sink. “Oh no.”

“Oh no is fucking right,” Jason snarled, staring down at the floor. “He decided to postpone the deadline until after fall break so now I’ve got this monster paper done and haven’t done any of my literature reading for my classes today or tomorrow.”

“On the bright side…at least it’s done?” Tim offered, knowing nothing he could say would be enough to cool the fury that was consuming Jason. And which had every right to consume him when it was caused by shitty professors and a stupid educational system.

Jason deflated and walked over to his bed, leaning against the edge next to him. “Yeah,” he sighed. “You’re right, but it’s still so frustrating.”

“Cheeseball for your sorrows?” Tim asked, holding out the bag.

Jason gave him a soft smile and reached into the back, pulling out a handful.

“And on the other bright side,” Tim continued. “Tomorrow night you get to leave on an awesome fall break vacation with me that’s going to let us fool the student loan system so we can get more money.”

Jason laughed as he chewed on his snack. “Yeah, you’re right. And at least I don’t have to worry about interrupting our vacation with stupid homework troubles.”

Tim’s stomach twisted at the word ‘our.’ “See?” he asked, trying for a smile that didn’t feel like it was concealing his rolling emotions. “Now you’re thinking!”

“What are you doing anyway?” Jason asked, finally changing the topic.

“Some class reading for business ethics for tomorrow,” he said with a shrug. “It’ll be my last class of the day and I know it’s going to drag, especially with the topic.”

“Which is?”

Tim smiled, knowing it was as ugly as it felt. “Ethical management systems of course.”

Jason made a fake gagging noise and Tim nodded, completely in agreement.

~~

Tim took a shaky breath and held up his phone, his camera open.

“You ready to do this?” he asked, glancing around at the few people in the seats around them at their departure gate.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Jason said, scooting closer despite the armrest separating them. He threw an arm around Tim’s shoulders and pulled him against his side.

“Smile,” Tim said, holding up the camera. He tilted his head towards Jason and snapped a picture of them leaning close, obviously in the middle of the airport.

“Is that going on Instagram or Twitter?” Jason asked as Tim lowered the phone to inspect the picture.

“Both,” he answered, opening Instagram first. “Might as well cover all the bases.”

He typed out a quick caption. “At the airport with the fiancé! Can’t believe we’re finally headed to Vegas to tie the knot. Been waiting for this for so long.”

He swallowed and added a bunch of heart eye emojis.

“Seems kind of cheesy,” Jason commented over his shoulder.

“Then it’s perfect for you,” he shot back.

“Hey…” Jason said, pulling Tim against his side.

Tim chuckled and switched to Twitter, posting the same photo and message. It had barely been posted before his notifications started to climb.

“What the hell?” Jason asked, looking at the bottom of his screen.

Tim bit his lip, thumb hovering uncertainly over the icon before he opened them. A string of likes and frantic comments appeared. There was a mixture of incredible excitement and shock. More than one person was desperate to know if it was true or not.

“You’re going to have so much damage control to run,” Jason muttered.

Tim smirked, trying to feign more confidence than he actually felt. “Don’t speak too soon. You’re going to have to deal with as much of this as I do. Be glad I didn’t tag your accounts or your stuff would be blowing up. Although they’re probably going to track you down anyway.”

“You can’t be serious?” Jason asked. “That’s kind of creepy.”

Tim shrugged. “Check your phone.”

“I swear to god, I’ll never forgive you if you basically ruin my social media experience.”

Tim laughed. “What experience?” he asked. “You barely post and even when you do it’s pictures on Instagram. You hardly use Twitter.”

“Shut it,” Jason grumbled. He sighed after checking both of his accounts. “Okay, I’m safe for now,” he said, sagging back in relief against his chair.”

“Now boarding for flight 2335 for Las Vegas, Nevada.”

“Well, that’s us,” Tim said, standing up. “Time to get hitched.”

“Don’t sound like you’re dreading it,” Jason said, pulling him over to the gate.

“Are you kidding?” Tim scoffed. “Being married to you is probably going to be a nightmare,” he said, the statement going soft because of the grin pulling at his lips.

Jason laughed and pulled out their tickets, both of them completely unaware of the pictures some of the other travelers were sneaking of them as they passed.

~~

The heat of Las Vegas smothered them when they stepped through the door to the line of taxis waiting outside the airport. The air was cleaner than what they were subjected to in Gotham, but the humidity pressed down on Tim’s chest.

“Are we sure an outdoor wedding was a good idea?” Tim asked as Jason helped the driver load their suitcases into the trunk of the taxi.

“We’ll make do,” Jason said. “If anything, it’ll prove to be a very interesting ceremony.”

“Ah, you two are getting married, how splendid!” the driver interrupted with a grin. “I’ve had many, many couples ride in my car and all of them have stayed together many years! My taxi is very good luck.”

Tim and Jason shared a skeptical look as they climbed into the back of the car, both knowing there was no way he could know the people who’d come here to get married were still together.

“Now, where am I taking the beautiful couple?” he asked, looking in the rearview mirror.

Tim rattled off the name of their hotel, glad it was immediately recognized. He squinted against the bright sunlight when they pulled out from underneath the overhang. He took a deep breath, his heart gaining speed in his chest now that the wedding was on the horizon.

He hoped he wasn’t about to destroy his life with a colossal mistake.

~~

Tim fell back heavily on the mattress of the resplendent bed of the honeymoon suite. The air conditioning was a sweet relief from the few seconds of oppressive heat they had to walk through to get through the sliding doors of the hotel. He could feel the beads of sweat pressing into his back, making a face at the ceiling.

“So,” Jason said, falling onto the covers next to him. “What are we going to do until tomorrow?”

“Hell if I know,” Tim said, rolling his head to the side to look at Jason.

Jason grinned. “Think we can fuck with the concierge?”

“Isn’t there a pool here too?”

Jason nodded. “Think so. Did you bring swim trunks?”

“Nope,” Tim said. “Shopping?”

“Meh,” Jason said.

“Yeah,” Tim agreed.

~~

Tim tugged at Jason’s tie, securing it around his neck as he shifted in front of him. “Stay still,” he admonished.

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “I feel like I’m being suffocated.”

“Well get used to it,” Tim said. “You’re going to have to wear ties at least every other month from now on.”

“Only if you promise to take them off for me,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Tim rolled his eyes. “Keep that up and you’re sleeping on the couch over there.”

“Not even married yet and you’re kicking me out of our bed.”

Tim felt himself flush and didn’t say anything. “Let’s just…get going,” he muttered. “The limo is going to be waiting downstairs for us and we don’t want to be late for our own ceremony.”

Jason chuckled and slipped the hotel key into his pocket. Tim stalked past him, valiantly trying to keep his mind off what was coming. And that his first kiss with Jason was going to happen because they were getting married for financial aid and not because Jason harbored any sort of feelings for him.

“Hey, you need to tweet out the link to the livestream, right?” Jason asked as they stepped into the elevator.

“Oh shit, yeah,” Tim said. He pulled out his phone and pulled up the wedding chapel website on his phone, scrolling through the weddings from that day until he got to his own. He copied the link and opened Twitter, typing out a quick message for all his followers before hitting send.

He let out a shaky breath before he shoved the phone into his pocket, knowing he’d have a million notifications before the ceremony even started.

They stepped out of the elevator when it reached the first floor and strode through the lobby. A white limo was waiting in front of the steps of the hotel. A man in a suit holding a sign with Tim’s last name on it smiled at them.

“Welcome,” he said, pulling open the rear door. “Are you excited for the big day?”

“You have no idea,” Jason said genially, placing a hand on Tim’s lower back to guide him into the backseat.

“There is champagne and snacks in the fridge and you’re welcome to help yourself, although I would recommend waiting until after the ceremony in case your nerves get the best of you,” he said with a lowly chuckle.

The statement left Tim knowing that he’d probably witnessed more than one couple spew chunks before or during the ceremony.

Tim took a shaky breath as the driver climbed into the front seat and pulled away from the curb. Jason’s hand found his on the seat and gave it a squeeze. He looked over at him and Jason offered a small smile that Tim returned.

“We can still back out if you want to,” he whispered.

Tim shook his head. “No, we…we already agreed to do this, and I wouldn’t want you missing the chance to get more financial aid. Besides, it’ll be fun. An adventure of sorts.”

Jason chuckled and squeezed his hand again. As they drove through the streets, Tim belatedly realized that Jason didn’t pull his hand away.

~~

Tim was valiantly trying to keep his breathing under control and stave off a panic attack as the officiant made it to the vows. Jason was holding his hands in a death grip as they stood under the wooden canopy of the gazebo. White string lights wrapped around the rafters and the sky was pink and purple above their heads because of the sunset.

He hoped the camera that was carefully sweeping around them to capture the video from all the right angles wasn’t picking up on his inner turmoil because he didn’t need hundreds if not thousands of people picking up on his panic and questioning what he was doing getting married to Jason if his heart wasn’t really in it.

Jason met his eyes, gaze soft and supportive and Tim knew if they were anywhere else, he would’ve been asking Tim if he rally wanted to go through with this. Tim gave him a small nod, hoping the reassurance would be enough to counter the panic in his own eyes.

Jason squeezed his hands tighter as he began to repeat the words the officiant said to him. He released one of Tim’s hands to reach for the silver band resting on a velvet pillow on the pedestal beside them.

Tim swallowed, straining to hear over the blood rushing through his ears and discern the words being said aloud.

The kiss of metal that slid over his finger was shocking and Tim looked down, hoping it didn’t look as jerky as it felt. He wiggled his finger, catching the movement of the light from the string lights as it wiggled and waved over the curved top of the band.

“Tim?” the officiant prompted.

Tim swallowed and nodded, slowly repeating the words that Jason had just said. He picked up the other ring, holding it tightly between his shaky fingers. Jason’s hand was warm under his touch and he slid the band on his ring finger, leaving it to settle into its new home.

As soon as his hand fell away, Jason gripped his hand, linking their fingers together.

The officiant smiled at them both, closing the book in front of him.

“I now pronounce you, husband and husband. You may kiss the bridegroom.”

Tim tried to smile but knew it was shaky. Jason lifted his hand and cupped Tim’s cheek, stroking the soft skin with his thumb. He stepped forward and ducked his head, pausing long enough that Tim’s thoughts started to run in a panic. This was his first kiss with Jason and it was because they were getting married, not because they were actually in love.

It made his heart ache.

The ache didn’t last long when Jason’s lips pressed against his. His eyes slid shut, but they broke apart quickly, Tim mourning the loss of contact. Their first kiss was their wedding kiss. Their first kiss was their wedding kiss that had just been livestreamed over the internet to an unbelievable number of people.

“Congratulations Tim and Jason. I wish you the best in your marriage.”

Tim smiled. “Thank you.”

Jason squeezed his hand and the man held out his hand, directing them back into the main building. Tim was glad to see the camera had been lowered and they were given their privacy once again.

“We can take a few wedding photos inside now that the ceremony is complete,” he continued, walking behind them.

“Sounds great,” Jason said, and Tim wondered if he was imagining the tightness in his voice.

Tim swallowed then the photographer arranged them in front of a tasteful backdrop, directing Jason to keep an arm around Tim’s waist which he apparently had no trouble doing. They were arranged in five different poses, subjected to the click of the camera as they smiled, trying to seem as relaxed as possible.

“Now kiss for me,” he said with a grin.

They both froze.

“Just one little kiss,” he prodded.

Jason was the first to move. He turned to face Tim, placing a warm and comforting hand on his hip. He cupped Tim’s cheek with his other hand, giving the camera an open view of their profiles. Jason’s eyes searched Tim’s and Tim rested a hand on his chest.

Jason ducked his head and then they were kissing again. It was different from the first kiss and he knew in the back of his mind he’d have to get used to this if they were going to make everyone believe they were ridiculously in love.

Jason’s lips were soft, and the kiss lasted longer than the one during the ceremony, the shutter clicking several times as the photographer took their pictures.

Jason pulled away and it took a minute for Tim’s eyes to flutter open. He met Jason’s sharp gaze watching him intently, searching his face for…something.

“That looked wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. If you’d like to head to the front of the building, your limo should be waiting to take you back to your hotel. I can have these developed tomorrow and delivered to your hotel before the day is over.”

“Thank you,” Jason managed since the words stuck in Tim’s throat. He was still watching the side of Jason’s head, trying to capture every moment and movement and feature of him.

He knew they’d be stuck together for three years at least. They had to get through the rest of college and he wasn’t sure how long they had to stay married after they graduated to make sure it stayed legit, but once that day came and they were no longer tied together, Tim was sure he wasn’t going to be the same.

He’d break, coming apart at the seams. He just hoped that Jason could stand to be around him and stay friends once it was done. Because torturing himself for three years was one thing, but torturing himself and then losing one of the few good people in his life would drive him insane.

“Tim, you okay?” Jason asked, meeting his gaze when Tim hadn’t made a move.

Tim forced a smile on his face, aware the photographer was still standing close by, listening to their conversation with intense interest.

“Of course,” he said, making his voice light and airy. “I was just wondering how I managed to snag the best man in the world for a husband.”

He saw the photographer grin out of the corner of his eye and Jason’s expression softened but he could still see the question lurking behind his eyes.

“Come on,” Jason said. “We should get back to the hotel and start celebrating.”

Tim grinned, his stomach tightening as he wished that he was actually going to get a true wedding celebration.

~~

“So,” Jason said as he clacked away on his computer while Tim sat next to him and fiddled with his phone since his Twitter notifications hadn’t slowed down at all. “I’ve already emailed housing to let them know what happened. Once they get back to me you’ll probably be moving in with me in the dorm. Unless they decide to make special arrangements. Now we just need to take care of the financial aid paperwork to get this finished.”

“Do you know what we need to fill out?” Tim asked absentmindedly as he scrolled through several tweets that featured screenshots of the wedding ceremony. Most of them included their kiss.

“Yeah, I’ve got all that pulled up. We just need to change our marital status and submit the forms for review to get more aid. It shouldn’t take too long and if they need proof, we can scan our marriage certificate and send them a copy when we get back on campus and can access a printer.”

Tim nodded. “Okay. You want to get your stuff done first and then I can do mine?” he asked.

“Sure,” Jason said, clicking and typing in the silence between them.

Tim glanced up at him and found all his attention on the computer where he was reclined on the bed of the honeymoon suite that was eagerly provided for them. Although knowing Vegas and this hotel, there were probably a hundred more just like it so everyone could experience their honeymoons at once.

He pursed his lips and looked back at his phone, clicking the link to one of Gotham’s online tabloids that was constantly posting stories about him. They had several screenshots of the wedding video and were making their own suspicions as to the purpose of the wedding, but no one had tried to get in touch with him for a comment and he was more than a little grateful.

He’d already been put through a major emotional step the night before and he wasn’t ready to play the part of the newly married husband yet. He’d get enough of that when they returned to school. The isolation that came with their hotel room was the biggest comfort he had.

Tim’s phone vibrated in his hand and he swallowed when his dad’s name flashed across the screen. He winced and slid his thumb across the screen.

“Hello?” he croaked.

“Timothy, we need to have a talk,” his father said, voice low and stern.

“Yeah, sure Dad. What’s up?”

The sounds of Jason’s typing stopped, and Tim glanced at him. His eyebrows were drawn down in concern and Tim grimaced, catching his thumbnail between his teeth to chew on it lightly. Jason sat up, setting the computer to the side so his focus was on Tim.

“I’m…concerned,” he started.

“Oh?” Tim asked, hoping he sounded innocent.

“Is there a reason that the tabloids are covered with pictures of you getting married and that I’ve gotten calls from more than one socialite asking why you haven’t introduced your now husband at any of the social functions you’ve attended in the past year?”

Tim swallowed. “He’s not exactly partial to social functions and we were aiming to keep things discreet,” he lied easily.

Tim wasn’t sure where his ability to lie was coming from. Maybe from the years of distance he already had with his father. He could say anything, and it would probably sound believable. Most of his antics were overlooked because his father failed to pry into his life, they never came because he needed to make up an excuse for what he was doing.

“And it never occurred to you, or him, to share the little bit of information that you were engaged? He never thought to ask for my blessing or I don’t know, meet me in person before you decided to fly off to Vegas to tie the knot?” his father asked, voice filled with disappointment and what Tim was sure was anger for the trouble their recent nuptials were sure to cause.

Tim winced, trying to pick his next words very carefully. Jason’s long fingers wrapped around his free hand, pulling it from his mouth so he wouldn’t do even more damage to his nails.

“Look, Dad. I’m sorry that this seems sort of backwards and confused. This wasn’t a spur of the moment decision as much as it seems to be. We didn’t want to make a big deal out of it and getting married in Vegas seemed like the best option,” Tim explained, his fingers wrapped tightly around Jason’s hand to try and ground him.

“And you didn’t think that I might want to be there for this? You only get married once if you’re lucky.”

Tim blinked. His relationship with his dad hadn’t always been the best one. There had been times when they’d gone days without talking simply because his dad hadn’t taken an interest in his life. It had never occurred to him that his dad might feel hurt over not being included on such an important day.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” he admitted, a potent sense of guilt weighing down his stomach. “I’ll introduce you as soon as we get back to Gotham. We can go out for dinner and you can sufficiently question and threaten Jason since you missed out on all those opportunities in the past.”

Jason huffed a snort and Tim glanced up at him, offering him a small smile.

There was a pause on the line. “I’d like that. When are you set to get back?”

“We’re flying back on Saturday. Does Sunday dinner work for you?”

“I’ll make the reservations,” he agreed.

Tim nodded even though he couldn’t see him. “Okay. See you then.”

“Bye, Tim.”

“Bye, Dad,” he said, ending the call. He sighed and dropped his hand to his lap.

“You okay?” Jason asked.

“Yeah,” Tim sighed. “Yeah,” he said again, voice stronger. “Dad wants to have dinner with us when we get back. Sunday dinner. He wants to meet with you since we kind of bypassed all of that.”

“Meeting my father-in-law already. We’re moving fast, aren’t we?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve been married less than a day.”

Tim huffed a laugh, feeling himself relax. Things were going to be fine. Jason was his friend and they were going to work through all of this together. Tim might struggle with his feelings and Jason was completely oblivious to it all, but they had each other.

“Moving’s going to be a bitch when we get back,” Tim mused.

Jason squeezed his hand where he was still holding it. “You’re the one who has to move, but I guess I can help you to make it more bearable.”

“People might question it if you didn’t. We wouldn’t want to seem distant in our relationship,” he drawled, rolling his eyes. “You done with that paperwork yet.”

“Oh,” Jason said, pulling his hand away to turn back to his computer. Tim missed the warmth of their hands together. “Almost,” he said, typing a few more things on the computer. “There. Now it’s your turn.”

Tim took the computer and set it in his lap, logging into his account. Jason waited patiently next to him as he went through the necessary forms, getting everything filled out.

“You haven’t heard back yet from housing, have you?” Tim asked as he skimmed over his information to recheck the necessary changes. He’d never get used to being listed as married. And certainly not being listed as married to Jason.

Jason leaned to the side and pulled out his phone, checking his email while Tim was using the computer.

“Nope,” he sighed. “I just emailed them a few hours ago so should hopefully be hearing back soon. It’s break so I would think they wouldn’t have too much on their plate. Unless they’re making special arrangements for us,” he muttered.

“I don’t know why they’d need to. I’m perfectly fine moving into your dorm room. It’s not like we need our own apartment or anything.”

Jason shrugged. “Who knows? We’ll find out soon, so no use worrying about it.”

Tim nodded and saved the changes in his information as he submitted the new forms for financial aid. “There,” he said, passing the computer back to Jason. “Now, we wait.”

Jason grinned and closed the lid of his computer. “What do you say we have some fun?”

“Might as well. We have the rest of the week.”

Jason slipped off the bed and held out a hand to Tim. He swallowed, trying not to focus on the silver band wrapped around Jason’s fingers as he let himself get pulled to his feet.

~~

“Oh hey, I got a response from residence life,” Jason said as they lounged on the deck chairs next to the pool.

A large umbrella was keeping the sun off Tim and despite the layer of sunscreen he put on earlier, he was glad to have the added protection.

“Really?” Tim asked. “What did they say?”

“They said that they can put us in one of the on-campus apartments if we’d like that, but you can also move into my room. Normally they wouldn’t allow a room change in the middle of the semester but considering we have pretty specific circumstances, they’re allowing it with no added charge. We can get you moved within the next week. I’m sure it’s going to take more than one day to get everything packed up and moved over,” Jason said, typing out a reply email on his phone.

Tim sighed, thinking about everything that would have to get packed up and then he’d have to unpack it again. “I’m not looking forward to this.”

“Don’t worry,” Jason said before locking his phone and tucking it away. “I’ll help you out and it won’t be that bad. At least you’re only moving from one room to another.”

Tim groaned. “That almost makes it seem worse. I won’t even get to ignore the boxes for a few days because I’ll need everything that’s packed up.”

Jason hummed. “You could always put the essentials in a duffle bag to make it easier to live out of and get the rest unpacked as you go.” He smile turned into a smirk that immediately put Tim on the defensive.

“What’s that look for?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“You could always share my bed if you don’t want to make your own.”

Tim huffed even as his chest tightened at the thought of getting to be wrapped around Jason as they slept. They were kind of already doing that, but this would mean it wouldn’t have to end.

“I doubt the two of us could fit in one of the twin beds we get blessed with by the university,” Tim muttered instead.

Jason shrugged. “People do it all the time.”

Tim swallowed, trying not to think about all the implications that statement held.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Tim looked up, blinking in surprise at the hotel waiter that stood in front of him, holding a tray.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I have a bottle of champagne and two glasses for you and your companion. They were purchased as a gift from the pair across the pool.”

He set down the drinks without another word and Tim looked across the pool to see two men with their chairs pushed together. They had their own bottle of champagne and one of the men raised a glass towards them, his other hand twined together with the man next to him.

Tim caught the glint of gold on their fingers. He cleared his throat and tried to ignore the flush that flooded his face as Jason had no issue pouring them each a glass.

“Cheers,” Jason said, handing Tim one of the glasses.

Tim clinked their glasses together before taking a large gulp of the champagne.

~~

“I don’t know how I’m going to get this all packed,” Tim groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. He was surrounded by piles of clothes. His bed had already been stripped of its bedding and Jason was nice enough to take that back to his room and make Tim’s bed for him.

“You’ll get through it. You have a couple of days to get everything moved over so just worry about the most important things first,” Jason said, rubbing Tim’s shoulders where he was standing over his kneeling form.

Tim swallowed and glanced over at his roommate who was studiously working at his desk and ignoring them. He hadn’t had much of a reaction when Tim had told him he was moving out and Tim didn’t know if it was because of the photo of his wedding that was plastered everywhere on the internet that kept him from being surprised, or because he was never the type of guy to put up much of a fuss.

Tim’s gaze dropped to the piles of clothes in front of him and the suitcase he was valiantly working to stuff them with. He knew that some of his added stress was because he’d be going to dinner with Jason the next night, but nothing could make packing up his life much better.

Especially when it was because he was getting ready to fool the federal loan system with Jason for the next few years to make college expenses easier on them.

He grabbed a stack of clothes and shoved them into the last available space in his suitcase before he let the lid fall shut and yanked the zipper around the edge.

“I’ll take this over,” Jason said, reaching over him for the handle.

“Do you mind taking my backpack too?” he asked, looking up at him and trying not to jerk back at their proximity.

“Sure. Is it ready to go?” Jason said, straightening and navigating the suitcase around where Tim was sitting on the floor.

Tim nodded. “Yeah. It’s got my computer and my schoolwork and books inside. Well, most of my books. I’ll have to shove the other ones that don’t fit into another box.”

Jason slung Tim’s backpack over his shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few. Try to have some more stuff packed by then. We might be able to get this done tonight if you keep going like you have been.”

Tim pursed his lips as they twisted into a smile. “If I do get this done, don’t expect me to have all of this unpacked by tonight.”

Jason chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’d have to seriously bribe you with something and since we’re having dinner with your dad tomorrow, I don’t think there’s anything I could use.”

Tim watched as the door shut behind him. He checked the heavy sigh he wanted to heave when he glanced over at his roommate. He went back to studiously packing and was glad when the piles started to shrink and his side of the room looked less like a warzone.

~~

Tim tried not to pace across the floor of Jason’s dorm, but he knew it was futile. Having moved to a new dorm in the span of a day and now being faced with dinner with his father was wearing him down. His nerves were on edge and he’d seen more than one man with a camera hiding out in the bushes on campus.

“Tim, it’s going to be fine,” Jason huffed from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed, tracking Tim’s movement across the floor.

Tim sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready for anything even remotely close to this.

Jason stood from his bed with a squeak and stepped in front of Tim. He wrapped his hands around Tim’s wrists and kept him in place. “Look, I know you’re worried about how your dad is going to react, but it’s going to be fine. He’s met me before and liked me well enough. This isn’t going to be the end of the world.”

“I know, but we’re going to meet him and have dinner as a married couple and he’s already hurt enough that he didn’t know about the wedding let alone that we had to supposedly date before this and I just…I don’t know how this is going to go.”

Jason sighed and threw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. “It’s going to fine, alright? I promise. And if it all blows up then we don’t have to worry about having dinner again and we can just come back here and goof off and watch movies before we have to go back to class tomorrow.”

Tim slumped against him, his head coming to rest on Jason’s shoulder. “Okay,” he muttered. “I hope you’re right about this.”

“Just trust me on this. What could possibly go wrong?”

Tim made a noise in the back of his throat and Jason chuckled. “I could list about ten different things that could go wrong,” he muttered.

“Think positive, Timbo. Think positive.”

~~

Tim bit his lip as they stepped out of his car in front of his father’s house. He shut the door and Jason walked around to meet him and grabbed his hand, linking their fingers together. Tim jolted and stared down at his hand.

“Married couples hold hands,” Jason murmured next to him.

Tim swallowed. “Right,” he agreed, squeezing Jason’s hand as he took a steadying breath.

Jason took the lead while Tim reluctantly followed and knocked on the door.

It was pulled open moments later to reveal one of the manor staff in all black.

“Welcome home, Tim. Your father is waiting for you in the dining room,” she said, standing to the side as they stepped in.

“Thank you,” Tim said as she shut the door and walked away. He led Jason through the hall to the dining room, surprised to the find the door had been propped open.

His father was sitting at the head of the table with the two adjacent spots having waiting place settings for them both.

“Welcome home, Tim,” his dad said, standing. “I’m eager to hear all about your trip. And Jason,” he said holding out a hand. “Nice to see you again.”

“Mr. Drake,” Jason said, shaking his hand politely.

“Let’s have a seat and we can get our evening started,” Jack said, taking his seat again.

Tim and Jason slipped into their chairs and Tim took a sip of water to steady him as the first appetizer was brought in and set before them.

“So,” Jack started. “How long were the two of you dating before you decided to run off and get married?”

Tim checked a sigh and picked at the vegetables on his plate with his fork.

“We’d been dating for about a year,” Jason supplied smoothly, punctuating the sentence with a bite. He watched Jack as he chewed, and Jack did the same.

“And why didn’t you think to tell me about this little arrangement? The fact that you were dating or that you’d decided to get married?” Jack asked, gaze sliding to Tim.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d take it,” Tim hedged. The statement wasn’t a complete lie but would give them something to work with.

“Were you afraid I’d react badly? Because of how soon it’s been or were you worried because Jason’s a boy?” Jack asked.

Tim hesitated, it was the perfect opportunity. The only opening that would make sense in the grand scheme of things.

“We never really talked about my sexuality or the other politics surrounding the queer community,” Tim said slowly, keeping a careful eye on his father. “And I always thought there was a part of you that would prefer me to marry a socialite who was prominent in Gotham’s business venues.”

Jack sighed and when Tim looked at him he was startled to see he looked older than he’d ever seen him before.

“Tim,” he started, sounding exhausted and hurt. “I know that my views on business have always been intense. But I never wanted you to feel forced to have to comply with my life in who you married. Sure, I had dreams of you marrying someone prominent who attended our fundraisers and that you’d take over the family business one day, but I never would’ve wanted that at your own expense.

“Now I see that I probably should’ve talked to you about other options, but I’d hoped that you never would’ve felt the need to hide something like this because you were afraid of how I might react.”

Tim swallowed, losing his appetite as guilt coiled in his stomach. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t realize how important this was to you.”

A little bit of sadness cleared from Jack’s eyes as he looked between Tim and Jason.

“Thank you, Tim. But I’d like to see you both more often. We should have dinner once in a while,” Jack said.

“I wouldn’t mind having dinner once a week,” Jason broke in. “I know that I’d like to get to know you better now that you’re my father-in-law.”

Jack smiled softly. “Then I’ll expect you here next week at the same time.”

“Sure thing, Dad,” Tim said, meeting Jason’s gentle gaze across the table. He couldn’t help but smile and ducked his head to stare at his food.

~~

“Tim! Wait up!”

Tim looked up from his phone and glanced over his shoulder, finding Jason running after him. He grinned and turned to face him.

“What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t have class until later.”

“I have to get to a meeting with my advisor. I have a few questions about the courses being offered next semester and want to make sure I can take what I want,” he said, falling into step beside Tim.

Tim opened his mouth to reply when he saw a couple of people watching him on the other side of the quad, looking inquisitive. Before he could second guess himself, he shoved his phone into his pocket and moved his coffee cup to his left hand. He grabbed Jason’s hand and linked their fingers together.

Thankfully, Jason kept from looking down at their hands and gave him a curious look instead.

“A group of people are watching us,” Tim whispered. “We have to keep up appearances.”

Jason chuckled and squeezed his hand. The warmth of his palm and the slide of Jason’s callouses across his skin made his stomach swoop and Tim quickly took a drink of his coffee to hide the smile that pulled at his lips.

He was in deep shit with their idea to get married, but he couldn’t find it in himself to really complain while he was walking across the quad to class.

“Are we still on for lunch later?” Jason asked as they reached the main cluster of academic buildings.

Tim nodded. “Yeah. Meet in our usual spot after class?”

“You know it.”

“Cool. Since I get out an hour before you, I’ll probably head to the library to get some work done on my research paper.”

“Don’t work too hard,” Jason muttered. “I don’t need to come and drag you out of the library because you forget to eat.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s only October, there’s no reason for me to fall down that hole yet.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t be so sure. You’re always on the verge of pushing your boundaries even when you don’t need to.”

Tim huffed and tried to pull his hand back, but Jason tightened his grip. “Are you going to let me get to class?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jason hesitated, looking a little uncertain as he glanced to the side. Before Tim could follow his gaze, Jason ducked his head and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“There are a couple people staring at us,” Jason murmured.

“Oh,” Tim said, hoping it didn’t sound as forced or strangled as it felt.

“See you later?” Jason asked, looking like he was about to be drop-kicked across the quad for offending Tim.

Tim let his expression relax and smiled. “Yeah. Meet you at lunch.” He squeezed Jason’s hand and let it go, turning towards his academic building. His eyes did a sweep of the quad and he saw the people who were watching them, clearly interested in their relationship.

He didn’t look back as he hurried up the steps and pushed through the double doors to the building. Several gazes followed him through the hall and Tim was really starting to regret the huge media spectacle he’d made of their marriage.

Tim slipped into his classroom and made his way to one of the tables in the back. He set up his computer in front of him and curled up in his chair, eyes flicking around the room to gauge the reaction to his presence.

People kept glancing in his direction while talking to their friends and Tim ran a hand down his face, feeling the cool metal of his wedding band. He just had to trudge his way through class and in a couple weeks, no one would even remember that he was married to Jason. And if they did, they would probably stop caring.

He hoped they would, anyway. He really hoped they would.

~~

The door to his private study room burst open and it still took Tim another five seconds before he was able to tear his gaze away from his computer screen.

“Jason?” he asked, brow furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Jason huffed and crossed his arms. “We’re supposed to be meeting for lunch remember?”

“Yeah, but don’t you still have class?” Tim asked, gaze flicking down to the time in the corner of his computer screen. “Oh,” he said softly.

“Yeah, oh. I knew you wouldn’t be able to pull yourself away from your work once you got started.”

“Sorry,” Tim said, rubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Guess I lost track of time.”

“What am I going to do with you,” Jason muttered. “Let’s go. I’m sure you’re starving and just haven’t realized it yet.”

Tim nodded and packed up his things, tossing them into his backpack with less grace than he normally would. He slipped his arms through the straps and Jason pulled him through the door, keeping an arm around his shoulders as they walked.

Tim fought down a shiver, wanting to lean into Jason’s warmth and plaster himself to his side. Anyone looking at them wouldn’t question it, but he wasn’t willing to have that conversation later when Jason inevitably called him out on it.

“Are you cold?” Jason asked as they crossed the quad from the library towards the dining hall.

“Not really,” he mumbled, burrowing further into his hoodie. The temps had only dropped slightly so it wasn’t bad enough that Tim was at the point he couldn’t get warm no matter what he did.

“You get cold when the temps drop though, don’t you?” Jason asked, tugging him up the steps to the dining hall.

Tim ignored the warmth that spread through his chest that Jason knew that. It was from their years of friendship and not because he cared enough to remember that.

“Yeah…” he muttered.

Jason directed him inside and he relaxed at the warm air that surrounded them. He pulled out his student ID and handed it to the woman working the sign in for the dining hall. Jason did the same and they slipped through the lines of students towards the back where they usually sat.

He caught sight of a few glances that were shot in their direction but ignored them. They would go away soon enough and he didn’t have the energy to worry about it.

“Grab me a soda?” Jason asked once they set their backpacks down in the extra chairs.

“As long as you get me dessert,” Tim countered with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason said, throwing an arm around Tim’s shoulders as they moved back towards the lines of food. They split off, going to their favorite food stations. Tim grabbed his food quickly, glad to have missed the lunch rush because of his focus on his homework.

He gripped his plate tightly in his hand and stopped by the soda fountain, filling a cup for him and Jason. He pressed one into the crook of his arm and carried the other one. He made it back to the table before Jason did and set the second drink in front of Jason’s seat.

Tim tucked into his burger, glad for the warm food. Jason offered him a smile when he set the dessert plate between them both and started in on his own food.

~~

“Follow my lead,” Jason hissed next to his ear.

“What-“ he started when Jason pressed a quick kiss to his lips. He kept the shock off his face when Jason pulled back, keeping his head tilted up towards Jason, letting the question seep into his eyes.

“Paparazzi,” Jason explained.

“Where?”

Jason put on a small smile despite their conversation and let his features soften. “Behind you,” he said, the geniality from his expression not seeping into his voice. “They can’t see your face, but other people are watching too since it’s not a small group of people toting cameras around.”

Tim nodded, snaking his arm around Jason’s waist. “Are they following?”

“Not right now. I think it helps that it’s late. Although we are headed back to our dorm so that’ll get them talking.”

Tim sighed, ducking his head against any possible scrutiny. Jason’s arm tightened around his shoulders and pulled him tighter against his side.

“Almost there,” Jason whispered.

Tim nodded and smiled. “You know, you’d think from your attitude, you’re the one with experience dealing with the cameras instead of me.”

Jason chuckled. “Yeah, but I’ve been around you long enough that I know how to handle it without making it into a big deal. We just have to put on a show for them.”

Tim nodded even though his stomach sank at Jason’s words. He didn’t need another reminder that for Jason this was still just pretend and something he was only doing to make sure he didn’t suffer crushing debt for years to come.

Jason trotted up the steps to their building quickly, pulling Tim along until they were safely inside the doors of their building.

“You okay?” he whispered, pulling him into the stairwell.

“Fine,” Tim said, feeling more exhausted then he had in a while. “Just tired.”

“Sounds to me like a night of Netflix in bed is just the thing you need.”

“You know what? I think you might be right,” Tim said.

Jason grinned and pulled his arm from around Tim’s shoulders to unlock their shared room door. He pushed inside, and Tim shut the door behind them. Jason pushed Tim’s backpack from his shoulders much to Tim’s amusement and dropped his own on his chair.

He pulled out his laptop and shoved Tim onto his bed, grabbing his own pillow before he settled down on top of the covers with him.

Tim watched as Jason pulled up Netflix and pulled up a show they’d both been watching, loading the next episode.

Tim wiggled around on the bed as it started, getting comfortable. After a moment of hesitation, he rested his head on Jason’s shoulder, curling into his side slightly. Jason pulled his arm out from in between them and shoved it under Tim’s head, giving him another pillow to lean against.

Tim smiled and lost himself in the show, ready to enjoy an hour or two of relaxation time before he’d be forced to return to the realities of his life and school.

~~

“Tim. Hey, Tim.”

Tim groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, curling into the warmth against him.

A chuckle washed over his head, warm breath ruffling his hair.

“You have to get up Tim. You’re going to miss your class if you don’t get out of bed.”

“No,” he grunted. “Fuck class.”

“You’ll miss breakfast. You won’t get any coffee once breakfast is over.”

“Lies. The dining hall always serves coffee and if they didn’t I could just go to the campus Starbucks.”

Jason heaved a sigh, causing Tim to be jostled where he was suddenly very aware he was leaning against him.

“You can’t stay in bed and avoid class all day, Tim. If I have to go to class, you do too.”

“Noooo,” he whined.

“You can stay if you want to, but I’m getting out of bed.”

Tim made a strangled sound in the back of his throat as Jason pushed him off his shoulder. The bed shifted as Jason swung his legs over the side and stood up.

Tim tried to find a comfortable position and settle back in for a longer bout of rest, but he tossed and turned, rearranging the blanket over him and the pillow under his head, unable to relax now that the warmth against his side was gone.

He huffed a sigh and stared at the ceiling for a moment, listening to Jason in the bathroom brushing his teeth before he shoved off the covers and climbed out of bed.

“So, you’ve finally decided to join the land of the living?” Jason asked behind him.

“Shut up,” he grumbled. “I couldn’t get comfortable.”

He pulled out a change of clothes and was about to push into the bathroom when Jason stopped him with a hand.

“You going to the library later?”

Tim nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to get some work done on my paper later this afternoon after lunch.”

“Mind if I join you when I get out of class?”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you need to ask? You usually just come and sit down and tell me to deal with it.”

Jason shrugged, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “Sorry, just thought I’d ask.”

Tim cleared his throat and slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He took several breaths to calm down his heartbeat as it hopped and skipped joyfully.

This was bad. This was so very bad.

~~

Tim didn’t look up when the chair across from him was pulled out and someone took the seat across from him. He assumed it was Jason but when no books were set on the table he paused his own work to look up.

He blinked at the strange, smiling woman sitting across from him.

“Uh…can I help you?” he asked eloquently.

Her smile widened into a grin. “How’s married life treating you?”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “And why would I tell you that?” he asked. “I don’t even know you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t blame someone for being curious. You’re the talk of all the tabloids. Everyone’s dying to know all about your new husband and the things you do together.”

Tim narrowed his eyes and shut his laptop. “None of that is any of your or anyone else’s business,” he said, grinding his teeth as he shoved his computer into his backpack.

“Look, you really don’t need to leave,” she stared, putting up her hands.

“No, I really think I do,” he growled, shouldering his backpack.

Her gaze slid past him, face lighting up with delight. She slapped her hands on the table and stood up.

“Just the person I was hoping to see.”

Tim turned and found Jason standing behind him, eyes narrowed at the woman.

“I really think I’m not who you want to see,” he said. “It looks to me like you’re bothering my husband.”

“I wouldn’t really say I was bothering him,” the woman said, raising a hand.

Jason rolled his eyes and wrapped his arm around Tim’s shoulders. He guided him away from the table even as the woman called for them to wait.

Tim glanced up and saw Jason’s face set in a scowl. They were out of the library before Tim worked up the courage to say something.

“Are you okay?” Tim whispered.

Jason stiffened before he let out slow breath, the tension seeping from his shoulders. “I think I should be asking you that. She wasn’t too much of a nuisance, right?”

“She was just searching for information about us. Wanted to know more about you and our relationship. I’m thinking she was probably a reporter posing as a college student,” Tim explained.

“Sorry,” Jason muttered.

Tim shook his head. “How about we just go back to our room? We can worry about this later.”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“At this point I’d rather order in than deal with all of the stares we’ll get otherwise. Not to mention the paparazzi that are going to be hanging around campus. Especially after that last encounter.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jason agreed, dropping a kiss onto the top of Tim’s head.

Tim’s heart stuttered, and he forced himself to keep walking and stay calm. Jason was relaxed beside him and Tim glanced around trying to find any paparazzi or students that might have been watching them but couldn’t find any overt gazes staring at them.

He swallowed and forced his feet to keep moving.

~~

Tim’s stomach grumbled as Jason unpacked the bag of Indian food that had been delivered minutes ago. The floor was covered with books and papers and both of their laptops sat open with half-written papers on the screen.

Tim pulled up Netflix and scrolled through the list of movies he had saved that he hadn’t gotten to watch yet.

“Does this look good?” he asked, turning the computer to face Jason.

He glanced up and nodded.

Tim left it to play and took a spoon and the container of curry he’d ordered. Jason pulled two sodas from the mini fridge next to his bed and crawled around to sit next to Tim, their sides pressed together as they leaned against Tim’s bed.

After a moment, Tim let himself relax against Jason, soaking up his warmth and the comfort that came with being together.

Jason stared into his food, stirring it around.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Tim froze and looked over at him. “What?”

“This is all my fault. People are bugging you because of my stupid idea.”

Tim shook his head before Jason even finished talking. “I didn’t have to go along with it. I chose to do this with you. It’s not your fault that people can’t keep their business to themselves.”

“Are you sure?” Jason asked. “I’d understand if you wanted to call it quits and stop.”

The thought made his stomach turn. “Do you want to?” he asked instead.

Silence fell between them. It stretched on, the only sound was the soft dialogue from the film.

“No,” Jason finally admitted.

“Then I’m okay with keeping this going,” Tim agreed, looking down at his food. “Besides,” he said trying for a smile as his tone lifted, “my dad already approves of you.”

Jason grinned. “He hasn’t seen me at any of his fancy parties yet, though.”

“I might never forgive you depending on what you’re planning,” Tim said.

“So what would you forgive me for then?”

“I don’t know. It depends on what you’re planning and how much entertainment I get from it.”

“I will start plotting with gusto.”

Tim chuckled and scooped up a spoonful of his curry, shoving it into his mouth. His earlier anxiety was gone. He was happy. As happy as he could be while trying to pretend his feelings weren’t so real.

“What do you think about a rainbow tuxedo?”

Tim choked and coughed, trying to clear the food from his throat he’d just inhaled. Jason thumped him on the back and offered him his soda.

“What?” Tim asked.

Jason chuckled. “A rainbow tux. It would make any black-tie event I go to with you more fitting for the two of us.”

Tim grinned. “Only if I get to wear one that’s hot pink.”

“I knew there was a reason I married you.”

Tim kept his grin steady even as his heart skipped a beat. The words felt too true to be meaningless, but beyond that Tim knew Jason couldn’t mean he held anything more for him than friendship. Life didn’t work out for him like that.

~~

Tim skirted around the refreshments table. He’d been pulled away from Jason twenty minutes ago and although both of them were wearing black, they’d still been stared at by Gotham’s elite because of their newfound reputation.

He had no idea where Jason had gone and was hoping that being around him would offer a reprieve from the questions being directed at him and the sadness that the parents had exuded over him not being able to marry their daughters. Not that that was ever an option anyway.

He jumped when an arm wrapped around his waist and a low voice chuckled in his ear.

“Looking for someone?”

Tim sighed, relaxing into Jason’s hold. “Just you, you ass,” he grumbled.

He grabbed Jason’s hand that was around him and tugged him towards an array of potted plants, hiding behind the leaves. He glanced back over his shoulder to make sure no one had followed them.

“I swear I need a break from being paraded around this ballroom.”

Jason hummed. “I think I could offer a pretty ample distraction.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he turned to face Jason. “By doing what?”

Jason grinned, and Tim blinked, his heart jumpstarting from a mixture of arousal at the heady look in Jason’s eyes and slight fear at what he was about to do.

Jason looked around before walking him backwards. Tim swallowed, feeling heat lick underneath his skin when his back hit the wall. He sucked in a breath and Jason cupped his face. He tilted his head back and covered Tim’s mouth with his own.

Tim grabbed Jason’s shoulders, nails digging into the soft fabric of his suit jacket. Jason bit down on Tim’s bottom lip before he swiped his tongue over the soft skin.

Tim unconsciously parted his lips, letting Jason’s tongue into his mouth. Tim’s eyes closed in bliss and he sucked greedily on Jason’s tongue, earning a low groan from Jason.

Jason pressed closer, covering Tim’s body with his. Their proximity made him squirm as he tested the boundaries and learned how little room he was given to move.

A throat cleared, and Jason pulled back harshly. Tim’s eyes flew open and he tightened his grip on Jason to keep him from moving away. His father was standing a few feet from them.

“Sorry to interrupt but you were drawing quite the audience from your antics Timothy,” he explained.

Tim’s face flamed, and he saw several older women behind his father’s shoulder who were watching them curiously and one camera that had snuck into the mix.

“Sorry, Dad,” he mumbled.

He smiled. “Socialize for a bit longer and I’ll let you leave early if you’re that impatient.”

“Thanks.”

Tim slowly dragged his gaze up to meet Jason’s eyes. Jason grinned at him.

“Care to dance?” he asked.

“You know how to dance?” Tim asked, quirking an eyebrow as the heat in his veins started to dissipate.

Jason chuckled and tugged Tim away from the wall and towards the couples dancing along to the string ensemble.

~~

Tim sighed and opened his eyes when his alarm went off. He stretched his arms over his head and groaned as his muscles tensed and relaxed. Something heavy was draped over his waist and Tim reached down to shove it away.

He froze when his hand touched skin and became aware of the warmth pressed against his back.

“Jason?” Tim asked, voice soft.

“Go back to sleep,” he groaned, burying his face in the back of Tim’s neck.

Tim forced himself not to shudder at the feeling. This early in the morning, Jason had stubble prickling his chin and cheeks, giving Tim beard burn on the back of his neck.

“Jason, I have to get up for class.”

“Since when do you care about going to class. Sleep. Sleep is good.”

Tim couldn’t help himself, he giggled. The change was so different compared to the other morning they’d woken up together. Jason’s grip tightened around his waist.

“Come on,” Tim said, patting his arm. “Let me up and we can go have breakfast before my class.”

“Fine,” he huffed, pulling his arm back.

Tim pushed himself up but Jason didn’t make any move to get out of bed. Tim rolled his eyes and made to climb over Jason, but an arm snaked around his back and pulled him down. He sprawled against Jason’s chest, arms splayed out to the side.

“What are you doing?” Tim grumbled, his face smashed against Jason’s chest and muffling his voice.

Jason heaved a sigh and pulled his arm back, releasing the pressure on Tim’s back.

Tim felt his face heat up and climbed off the bed. He kept his gaze away from Jason and dug around in his dresser, pulling out a fresh pair of jeans and a tee. He slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him, shivering as the warmth in his limbs started to dissipate.

He stripped out of his pajamas and shoved his legs into his jeans, jumping in place to tug them up his thighs until he could button the front. He threw his shirt on and quickly brushed his teeth.

Tim stared at his reflection and met his own gaze. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself when all he really wanted to do was throw himself back in bed with Jason. The pull to him never waned and one of these days it would become too much and he’d crash.

He nodded and forced himself towards the door. He pulled it open and blinked when his eyes met Jason’s chest.

“Aren’t you-“

Jason made a noise in the back of his throat and shuffled around him.

“Give me a minute and I’ll go with you to breakfast,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

Tim blinked and shook himself. He stuffed his books and laptop in his backpack and tugged a hoodie over his head.

The toilet flushed in the bathroom before the door was pulled open.

Jason sighed as he stepped out. “Much better,” he said, sounding more awake than he’d been a minute ago.

“Ready to go?” Tim asked, shouldering his backpack.

“Yup,” Jason said, shoving his feet into his shoes. He plucked his leather jacket from the back of his desk chair and grabbed his backpack, following Tim out of their room. They’d barely made it a step before Jason’s arm settled around his shoulders and pressed him close to his side.

Tim smiled and settled into his warmth.

~~

Tim groaned and buried his head in his crossed arms on the table in the study room he’d snagged. The research paper he was working on was killing him even with the head start he’d gotten.

The door opened to his room and he expected someone to splutter out an apology for walking in on an occupied room.

He huffed and raised his head, finding Jason standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.

“Time for a break?” Jason asked.

“Only if I get to take a break from the rest of this semester. This research paper is killing me,” he sighed, letting his eyes slide shut.

“Come on,” Jason said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Pack up your stuff and let’s head back to the room. You’re going to feel like shit if you fall asleep at this table.”

Tim grumbled but did as Jason suggested. He shoved his things into his backpack and lethargically pushed his chair back, getting to his feet.

Jason grabbed his hand and linked their fingers together, pulling him from the room.

Tim felt heat flood his cheeks and ducked his head, hoping to hide it. Jason squeezed his hand, looking perfectly content as they walked through the main doors of the library.

Tim shivered at the sudden chill of the late autumn air. He stepped closer to Jason, hoping to steal some of his warmth. Almost as though Jason was on the same wavelength as him, he pulled his hand from Tim’s and draped his arm around Tim’s shoulders, pulling him tight against his side.

Tim smiled, finding comfort in the silence between them. Whatever was going on between them, Tim was finding it less heart-wrenching then he had when they’d first gotten married. He was starting to think that maybe he could make it through the next couple years of their marriage regardless of the paparazzi and the other people who made their relationship into a spectacle.

Tim hesitantly slipped his arm behind Jason’s back. Jason tightened his hold on Tim’s shoulders and he slipped his fingers gently into Jason’s back pocket.

He let Jason direct him towards their dorm. He caught sight of a few people giving them curious looks, but he was starting to think their attention was beginning to wane.

They climbed the stairs sluggishly and Jason unlocked their door before manhandling him inside. Tim pulled away from Jason once they were inside and let his backpack drop to the floor next to his bed. He stared at his rumpled sheets, wanting to toss himself onto it, but a hand on his hip stopped him.

He furrowed his brow and turned to look up at Jason who stood over him.

“Jason?” he asked.

Jason pressed their chests together, fingers tangling in the strands of hair at the back of Tim’s neck. He ducked his head and covered Tim’s lips with his own.

Tim gasped, eyes going wide as Jason kissed him. Jason’s tongue slipped between his lips and a high noise sounded in the back of his throat. Jason groaned and wrapped his other arm around Tim’s back and Tim clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his hoodie.

Jason broke the kiss with a sigh, pressing their foreheads together as Tim sucked in desperate breaths, trying to calm his pounding heart.

“Jason?” Tim asked, feeling more raw and vulnerable than he thought he’d ever be with him.

“Sorry,” Jason apologized. He stepped back, releasing Tim from his hold and Tim felt cold.

He turned on his heel and stalked towards the door.

“Jason, what-“

Before he could finish the question, Jason pushed through the door to their room and disappeared. Tim stood frozen next to his bed as he tried to figure out what had just happened.

The door slammed shut with a finality that chilled Tim to his core.

It took him too long to snap out of it before he was crossing the floor of their room. He threw the door open and looked up and down the hallway, but Jason was nowhere in sight.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath.

He slipped back inside and the let the door shut behind him, pulling his phone from his pocket. He dialed Jason’s number, pacing back and forth across the small floor space they had around their furniture.

It rang five times before going to voicemail. Tim growled and ended the call before he redialed. The same thing happened and he huffed, waiting for the beep to come.

“Jason, I don’t know why you decided to kiss me like that and walk out but you need to get your ass back here right now.”

He hung up and tried calling him again. It didn’t even make it to the second ring before he was sent to voicemail.

“You fucking idiot,” he hissed under his breath.

Tim opened their text message thread and angrily tapped against his screen.

Tim: Jason get the fuck back here.

Tim: Jason I know you’ve got your phone and you’re seeing this.

Tim: We need to talk about what just happened so don’t fucking ignore me.

Tim: Jason I need to talk to you.

Tim: Answer me you asshole!

He stared at his phone, waiting for a reply even as the read receipts kept coming back to him. But Jason never started typing.

“He has to come back sometime,” Tim fumed, gripping his phone so tightly that if he was thinking clearly he almost would’ve worried about breaking it. “And I’m going to be ready for him.”

Tim made sure his ringer was on so he wouldn’t miss any text or call, as unlikely as they were. He tried to find a comfortable spot on the floor and pulled out his homework, determined to get something done while he waited for Jason to get back.

He managed to last through five frustrating minutes of homework before he gave up and pushed it away, too distracted by what had happened and the lack of response from Jason. He pulled up Netflix and left something to play, not really focusing on what happened on the screen, mind still too preoccupied with thoughts of Jason but needing the background noise.

Tim stared at the door, eyes locked on it as he waited. He crossed his arms. He’d outwait Jason. He could do it. He would do it. And when he did, he was going to get to the bottom of whatever the fuck was happening.

~~

Tim groaned when he woke up. He blinked his eyes open and found his face smashed against the floor. He’d fallen to the side after passing out. He straightened and stretched his arms over his head, feeling his muscles and neck pop from sleeping in such an awkward position. He rubbed the back of his neck, wincing at the kink and the soreness.

He didn’t feel rested at all and going to class was the last thing he wanted to do, both because of how awful he felt and being away from the dorm would give Jason a chance to sneak in and out without him knowing about it.

He sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He grabbed a change of clothes and slipped into the bathroom, turning the water on as hot as it would go in the hopes of washing away the gross feeling that was overwhelming him.

Tim stared at his reflection before the steam eclipsed the mirror. He had bags under his eyes and looked exhausted, face and hair rumpled. He sighed and stripped out of yesterday’s clothes, leaving them in a pile next to the door.

He stepped into the shower and braced his hands against the wall, letting his eyes shut as the hot water beat against his back. He could get lucky if he went to breakfast and Jason ended up being there too. It wasn’t a guarantee that he would catch him, but there were so many places on campus that Jason frequented that there was no telling where he’d be hiding out.

Tim reached for his shampoo and lazily popped the cap, squeezing some into his palm to wash his hair. He didn’t come back during the night which meant Jason had no intention of coming back to the room while he was here.

But most of the time Jason was a stickler when it came to class. There had been more than one day when Jason had dragged Tim from his room to make sure he got his ass to class and got his homework done.

Tim tilted his head back and let the water run through his hair, washing the soap down his back until it swirled down the drain. He was going to fix this. He was going to make it better even if Jason decided to be an idiot about it.

~~

Tim felt like his skin was too tight. He was seated in the middle of the dining hall for once, giving him a view of both entrances. He did a walkthrough of the hall when he got there to make sure that Jason wasn’t already there and found their usual spot empty. His eyes kept shifting, waiting for Jason’s familiar figure to walk through the door but he hadn’t shown up yet.

It was getting close to the start of Tim’s class and breakfast continued for another hour after he’d have to leave. Jason would have plenty of time to sneak in after he was gone to get something to eat and the knowledge that Jason was avoiding him made his stomach twist.

“Hey, aren’t you Tim Drake?”

He stopped chewing and glanced away from the door he’d been watching to find a boy standing in front of his table.

“Yeah?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and fighting not to let his eyes flit to the entrances of the dining hall again.

“Didn’t you just get married or something? Where’s your husband?” he asked, bracing a hand on the table across from Tim.

“He’s got class,” Tim lied, pushing his chair back. “Which is where I need to be in five minutes.”

He slipped his backpack on and grabbed his dirty dishes, heading for the return line as the boy spluttered behind him and tried to call after him.

Tim tossed his dishes onto the belt with little care what happened to them. His stomach was twisting in on itself and his heart felt tight. He swallowed, trying to clear his throat but something was stuck, lodged there and making it difficult to breath.

He glanced behind him and when he didn’t find anyone giving him much attention he slipped around the corner from the doors and into the blessedly convenient single stall bathroom. He locked the door shut behind him and pressed back against it before sliding down to the floor.

Tim tried to even out his breathing, but everything hurt. He wanted it fixed. He wanted Jason.

He hugged his knees close to his chest and tried to let his breath out, but it hitched and stuck, sounding on the verge of a sob.

Tim’s eyes burned, and his vision became blurry. He buried his face in his knees, heart clenching with every hitch in his breath and the first few tears that slid down his cheeks.

“I hate you so much, Jason,” he whispered into the tile around him. “I hate that I love you so much.”

~~

Tim stayed in the bathroom until someone came knocking on the door asking if it was free.

“Just a minute,” he croaked, voice sounding raw.

He pushed himself onto shaky feet and stumbled over to the sink. His eyes looked red and sunken, irises dull in the low light of the bathroom and his cheeks adorned with a splotchy flush. He turned on the tap as cold as it would go and cupped the water in his palms, wiping it over his face to cool his overheated skin.

Tim patted his skin dry with a paper towel and tossed that into the trash. He was steadier on his feet when he moved to open the door.

“Sorry I took so long,” he apologized, unable to meet the next person’s eyes.

“No worries,” she said, voice bright as Tim moved out of her way.

The door snapped shut behind him and Tim wrapped his arms around his stomach. He felt drained and was already late for class. He didn’t have the energy to show up late to his first class and couldn’t even contemplate going to his second one.

What he needed was Jason. Jason, who’d consumed his every waking thought for months. They’d laughed over movies and eaten takeout together and worked to fight off the stress that came with school. And now he was going to lose him.

Tim bit his lip, twisting his wedding band around his finger.

He took a shaky breath before finally forcing his feet to move. He was sluggish at first as he made his way down the stairs to leave the dining hall, but his desperation made itself known when he hit the sidewalk and started sprinting towards the academic building Jason had his morning class in.

Tim checked his watch. He had ten minutes before Jason’s class started and if he was lucky, he could catch him before he went inside. If he wasn’t lucky, maybe he could convince Jason to step out of class to talk to him.

Unless he was done pretending, they still needed to look convincing in front of other people and Tim knew Jason wouldn’t want to jeopardize that my ignoring his supposed husband when he came to talk to him.

Tim took the stairs two at a time and reached the second floor in seconds, bearing a sharp right and barely managing to avoid a couple of tired college students on their way out of their early morning classes. He caught a few looks of pity from them and they were most likely thinking that he was incredibly late for class.

Tim turned the corner, his breath catching in his throat when he spotted Jason stepping onto the second-floor landing. He looked exhausted, hair disheveled and bags under his eyes, movements sluggish as he shuffled along.

He glanced up and froze and Tim took that as his chance, barreling down the last distance between them until he skidded to a stop in front of Jason, chest heaving. Jason’s hands instinctively reached for him to keep him from crashing into something or tripping over himself.

They retracted a moment later as Jason’s eyes became guarded and he stepped back.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice cold and accusatory.

“Looking for you, you dumbass,” Tim huffed.

“I…what?” Jason asked, his defense falling away.

“You’re a dumbass,” Tim said. He stepped into Jason’s space and wrapped his fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him down, smashing their lips together.

Jason made a sound in the back of his throat, arms snaking around Tim’s waist to pull him close.

Tim broke the kiss and Jason made a low sound in the back of his throat, trying to follow him.

“Why did you run off last night?” he asked.

Jason blinked his eyes open, processing Tim’s words before he sighed, looking tired. “I thought you wouldn’t want me like this,” he admitted, voice low.

Tim huffed, feeling the anxiety that had lingered in his frame since the night before finally disappear. “Jason, I’ve had a ridiculous crush on you that’s probably bordered on love for at least two years now. I’ve been dying to kiss you since I first saw you. I agreed to marry you. Of course I wouldn’t be against this.”

Jason’s eyes widened, and his lips parted as he struggled to find something to say. Tim laughed and pressed closer, wrapping his arms around Jason’s shoulders.

“So, does this mean you’ll finally come back to our room tonight?” he asked.

“Why wait until tonight when we could go back now?” Jason asked instead, grip tightening around Tim’s waist.

“Aren’t you concerned with missing your class?” Tim asked.

“Nope,” Jason said. “I’d much rather be with you.”

Tim chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to Jason’s lips, stepping back and forcing Jason to release his hold on him before he could get any ideas.

“Go to class,” he said, keeping a hand pressed against Jason’s chest when he tried to close the distance between them. “I’ll be in our room when you’re done. You made me stress since last night. It’s your turn to agonize over being separated and you only have to struggle through an hour.”

“An hour and fifteen minutes,” Jason grumbled.

“Well too bad,” Tim said, smirking at him. “Time for you to learn some self-control.”

“I have plenty of self-control,” Jason argued, trying to get closer even as Tim took a step back for every step forward he made. “I’ve kept myself from kissing you senseless for months. And then from ravishing you in bed these past few weeks.”

Tim grinned. “Go to class. And you can ravish me all you want when you get back.”

He turned on his heel and walked away as Jason groaned behind him. Tim glanced over his shoulder and shot a wink at Jason where he pouted after him.

He felt so much lighter than he had since the night before. He was happy. And he could finally enjoy himself and everything he was going to be lucky enough to have.

Tim bit his lip as he started down the stairs to the first floor. He was giddy and couldn’t wait for Jason to get out of class. There were so many things he could do now. So many things he could do with Jason that he’d wanted to do for so long. And now he finally had the chance.

~~

Tim scowled at his computer when he heard the room door open. He clicked several times, trying to get the program for one of his classes to work properly instead of what it was currently doing shitting all over his efforts to get his homework done.

His laptop disappeared from under his hands and he opened his mouth to shout something accusatory at the culprit when Jason’s smiling mouth pressed against his.

Tim made a happy noise in the back of his throat, arms automatically going around Jason’s shoulders as Jason crawled onto the bed, forcing him backwards.

Jason swiped his tongue along Tim’s lower lip and he parted his lips eagerly, letting his tongue slide inside to brush against his own.

“And to think we could’ve been doing this for years,” Tim grumbled when Jason pulled back to kiss across his cheek and down under his chin.

“Well we’re doing it now,” he mumbled into Tim’s skin, dragging his teeth along his pulse.

Tim shuddered, tightening his hold on Jason’s shoulders.

“You better not try and leave again,” he said, voice low and serious despite the arousal that was starting to flood his veins and cloud his mind.

Jason pulled back, meeting his eyes and Tim wanted to mourn the loss of contact but Jason’s gaze held him in place.

“I agreed to stay by your side in sickness and in health, Tim,” he said, reminding him of the vows they’d shared in Vegas mere weeks ago. “I meant those words with every fiber of my being even if you didn’t think I was serious. I’m not going to leave you again. Not now that I know you feel the same. You’re stuck with me the rest of your life so you better get used to it.”

Tim beamed, smile nearly painful as his eyes crinkled in happiness. “I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he whispered before he pulled Jason’s lips back to his.

If you enjoy my work, please reblog or consider buying me a ko-fi!

[luxekook]

kings of campus compilation

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 31.k+

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, chaotic energy, poly relationship, switch!reader, dom!joon, switch!jin, switch!hobi, sub!yoongi, sub!jk, sub!tae, sub!jimin, PUNS, pick up lines, arguments, nerd tingz, smut [thigh kink, noona kink, marking, oral (m + f receiving), dom/sub themes, spanking, breast worship, etc. etc.]

⇥ banner: heathy uwu @shadowsremedy​

[this will be a reposting/working document for those of you that cannot access my KOC chapter links right now uwu] [hope this works] [you can also read on ao3]

PROLOGUE

Spring of Sophomore Year - 11:52pm

“If it gets any hotter in here, we’d need jackets to enter the fucking gates of Hades.”

My stellar observation goes by unappreciated, but I’m not shocked. The music thumps heavily through the house at a deafening decibel and the only methods of communication are screaming or sign language - I had done neither.

Earlier, when my roommate Luna told me about this particular party, I had hesitations for several reasons:

This party is being held at the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) house - a house known for its wild parties, excessive drinking, and dangerously attractive brothers.

I am not a huge fan of the aforementioned features or the trouble that always seems to accompany them.

It’s Harry Potter Weekend and I am going to miss the fucking Goblet of Fire for this.

Long story short, Luna convinced me to go with her with promises of pizza and our own Harry Potter marathon tomorrow. Her promises in mind, I square my shoulders and motion for Luna to follow me to the slightly quieter kitchen on the other side of the living room.

As we cross the crowded room, Luna tugs on my wrist and tilts her head subtly towards the corner where four very large, very attractive guys are playing a rowdy game of beer pong, while three (equally attractive) others lounge against the wall watching. Taking a closer look, I notice that the two at the far end of the table seem to be winning. The one with light pink hair takes his shot and curses loudly when he misses. Annoyed, the other shoves him out of the way, lines up to shoot, and pauses. Our eyes meet.

A shiver runs down my spine as his dark gaze rests on me. His jaw is clenched and chiseled, his lips are set firmly but wickedly full. His black t-shirt stretches over wide, solid shoulders and I can almost make out the muscles that ripple beneath. His right arm is still poised to take his shot, and I can’t help but notice how his bicep strains the fabric of his sleeve and how his large, tanned hand completely dwarfs the pong ball.

I barely remember to breathe as I realize his gaze is making his own assessment of me. I can feel his dark eyes rake over me, and it makes my skin buzz. His eyes trail over my black crop top down to my ripped black jeans, and blatantly checks out my legs.

Suddenly, his pink-haired partner elbows him, shattering our little moment. Shakily taking a breath, I turn to Luna who has an eyebrow raised at me. She grabs my hand and practically drags me into the kitchen. I sip my drink and fight the urge to look back.

The minute we enter the mostly empty kitchen, Luna whips around to face me, “Were you just openly eye-fucking Kim Taehyung, (y/n)?” I choke on my beer.

“Who?” I croak, still coughing to clear my windpipe of what I’m certain is shitty Natty Light. Rolling her eyes, Luna shakes her head at me like a disappointed parent, “Kim Taehyung. You know, the pledge master for BTS? Was just with his frat brother Park Jimin?”

She pauses dramatically, seeming to be waiting for some kind of response. I stare at her blankly.

Scoffing, Luna continues, “They were the ones playing pong just now, dumbass. The blue-haired one is Taehyung. You know, the one you were mentally undressing-”

“Okay,” I cut her off, “I’m sorry to say that I haven’t paid much attention to the members of our ‘legendary’ fraternities.”

Pretending like I never interrupted, she resumes, “-with your eyes. Everyone knows who they are. You just live under a rock that you call the library…”

I close my eyes and pray for deliverance as Luna trails off.

“Can I get you another drink?” A deep voice definitely not belonging to Luna breaks the short silence. Opening my eyes, my vision focuses on the voice’s source – a cute BTS pledge. His eyes are focused entirely on Luna, who suddenly seems unnaturally shy. She sends me a searching look, and I nod in response. Smiling, she turns back to the boy, “Yeah, I’m Luna by the way, and this is (y/n).”

“Jaehyun,“ he answers, giving me a head tilt while placing a palm on Luna’s back. He slowly guides her from the kitchen towards where the keg was in the living room. Sending a glance over her shoulder, Luna meets my eyes and I wave my phone at her as a silent reminder to update me. She winks and disappears into the living room.

Sighing, I lift myself onto the kitchen counter to give my feet some reprieve from these heeled boots and reapply my blood red lipstick using my phone camera. Satisfied, I check the time.

12:01am. Not nearly late enough for Luna to want to leave - especially now…

Suddenly, a now-familiar buzz sizzles across my skin. Drawing my gaze up from my phone, two unopened cans of beer held by long, strong fingers meet my vision. I drag my eyes up past thick wrists and corded arms. Up goes my gaze past flexed biceps, across a broad chest, and finally my eyes meet his.

He looms over me, all broad and imposing.

"Hey,” his husky voice - just slightly deeper, raspier than Jaehyun’s - murmurs, “I’m Taehyung. I brought this for you.”

Taehyung’s intimidating; his stare is direct and unwavering. Heat rolls off him in waves, and if this party was hotter than hell, that must make him the devil.

Our fingers brush as I accept his slightly outstretched offering, and I swear I would feel the reoccurring zings for the next week. “Hey, thank you. I’m, uh…” I trail off, Taehyung’s dark eyes staring at me from this close make me seem to lose all power of speech. God, do eyes that color really exist? Apparently, they do – deep brown mixed with flecks of amber, hypnotizing.

I clear my throat and try to force my last two brain cells to work together, “I’m (y/n).”

He’s smirking slightly now, the gesture pulling forth the cutest flush of pink in his cheeks, “Nice to meet you, (y/n).” And I swear he says my name like he’s caressing it, tasting it for the first time.

Damn, he’s unholy. Where is my snarky, inner bad bitch when I need her?

“Did you win your game? Seems like you might have been a little… distracted,” I smirk, there she is. I crack open my beer and revel in the emitting hiss.

A flicker of heat bursts through those brown eyes as he leans closer still, enveloping me with his intoxicating cologne. He smells like autumn woods with a hint of fresh lemon; he smells like trouble.

Taehyung sets his beer down and places his arms on either side of me - caging me in. “Things were going just fine 'til this girl came strutting through the room in some tight fucking jeans,” his tongue flicks over his lower lip, “So, yeah, you could say I got a little distracted.”

“I do not strut,” I object, narrowing my eyes at him - daring him to contradict me.

He’s undeterred, “Yeah, you do, jagi.” His eyes are full of mirth and he’s clearly enjoying getting a reaction from me, “It’s hot.”

I bristle, unsure if I should accept that 'compliment’ at face value, “Does this work on most girls? You know, the whole cornering her while you give her lame compliments thing?”

He looks surprised for a second, but then his head tilts back and he lets out one of the most endearing laughs I’ve ever heard - all unrestrained and unabashed pleasure.

Still chuckling, he tilts his head, eyes darting all over my face - lingering on my lips, “Where did you come from, (y/n)?”

Within seconds we’re making out like unsupervised high school students, right in the middle of the damn kitchen. I let out an embarrassing moan when he bites my bottom lip then sucks on it. Expertly coaxing my lips apart, his tongue meets mine in a feverish tangle while his hands grip my waist - pulling me into him.

The way that Kim Taehyung kisses is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s hot and demandingly deliberate with a possessiveness that sends a ripple of electricity through me. I’m playing with fire, making out with him, but at this moment I can’t find it in me to give a single fuck.

Blazing lips suck and bite at the side of my neck and –

“(y/n)?”

The franticly questioning voice draws nearer as I open my eyes and tear myself away from Taehyung’s wicked mouth. Luna’s there, peering around Taehyung’s shoulder, and I can immediately tell that something is seriously wrong.

Shoving Taehyung away from me, I jump down from the counter and stumble - completely forgetting I was in three-inch heeled boots. Taehyung’s hands shoot out around my waist to stabilize me, “Whoa, easy there, (y/n).”

“Get your lecherous paws off her, Kim,” my eyes dart to Luna, shocked at her tone but proud of her vocabulary, “(y/n), we have to go.”

“What’s going on?” I’m at a loss, and I hate it, “Are you okay? Where’s Jaehyun? Do I need to chop his dick off?”

Taehyung lets out a choking sound beside me, but I pay him no mind - chicks before dicks, hoes before bros, besties before testes, etc. etc.

“What I’m planning is much worse,” Luna mutters with a strange glint in here eye as she pulls me away from Taehyung and levels him with an icy stare, “Listen, Kim, I know all about your little task for the pledges. Seriously, forcing them to get with as many girls as possible before they get their letters? Are you that much of a chauvinistic asshole?”

I whip around to face Taehyung, who seems to have become intensely interested in his beer, “Is this true?” He says nothing. I stalk up to him, shoving a finger in his chest, “Is. It. True.”

His beautiful, guilty eyes flicker up to meet mine, and my heart sinks.

“Fuck. You.” My words come out as a whisper but are still vicious enough to make Taehyung stagger back.

With that, Luna and I stalk out of the party - heads held high and arms linked.

Returning to our dorm, we make a pact to avoid all frat boys and christen it with pizza. She never tells me how she found out about the stupid pledge task; I’m smart enough to know that she must have had her reasons.

But I wasn’t smart enough to stop thinking about Kim Taehyung.

I played with fire.

I should have known I’d get burned.

Chapter One

Fall of Junior Year – 8:57am

I curse every single decision that has brought me to this very moment as I power-walk across campus, sweating under the already blistering sun. Campus in August could easily be compared to a swamp given the amount of unearthly humidity, and I’m pretty sure I currently qualified as the local swamp thing.

The only positive feature in my morning has been the table of free coffee and doughnuts staffed by Student Government. The first day of the fall semester always seems to be accompanied by frantically wide-eyed freshmen and celebratory freebies. However, air conditioning is the only thing I would be celebrating today as I finally reach Tyson Hall – the destination of my 9:00am class.

As I rush to my classroom with one minute to spare, I slump into a seat in the far corner – my preferred location for people-watching out of the large windows and for getting away with doing homework for other classes.

Familiar faces surround me, an unsurprising observation given that this is our mandatory research seminar as psychology majors. I notice my friend Jenni sitting in the opposite corner, eyes glued to her phone screen.

Opening my laptop, I shoot her a text to come sit with me. Her head whips up, black braids moving every which way as she immediately piles up her things and hustles over, “(y/n), I forgot you were in this seminar! I just switched over from quantitative research because I couldn’t take any more statistics – or Dr. Harding.”

Dr. Harding is the dean of the psychology department and has been teaching here for ages. Feared by most psychology students for his tough grading and intimidating persona, he’s actually a huge softie – something I discovered by going to his office hours and seeing all 85 pictures of his grandchildren hanging throughout the room.

“He’s not that bad, Jen.”

She scoffs, “You would say that because you got an A in statistics like some sort of wizard. Besides, Dr. Newman is so much nicer.”

Jenni has an excellent point. Dr. Newman is the main reason I chose this seminar. As one of the most respected researchers at our university, she’s known for her qualitative studies on gender across cultures. I consider Dr. Newman to be a real badass woman and I lowkey stan her.

I turn to reply, but Dr. Newman begins taking attendance and class begins.

Fifty minutes later, Jenni practically drags me out of the classroom, “I cannot believe she kept us the whole 50 minutes. Is she aware that it’s syllabus week? It’s practically law to just read over the syllabus and then dismiss class. This is outrageous– (y/n), are you even listening?”

“Hmm?” I totally had tuned her out, focusing on the number of students flooding the quad. I had missed this – the rush of students heading to class, the yells of people greeting each other from entirely too far away, the buzz of excitement over potential parties…

“Unbelievable. How did I forget you have this whole weird-ass feminist crush on her?” Jenni forges forth, “It doesn’t matter. What are you doing tonight? You’re going out with us, right? Luna and I want to go to Hannigan’s.”

Since the three of us had all turned 21 over the summer, we finally could legally go to the bars in town. Hannigan’s currently holds the top spot on the list of bars that most of the upperclassman frequent. It’s a popular Irish pub downtown known for its cheap beer and mixed drinks.

It’s also BTS’s unofficial hangout – a fact that makes me slightly uneasy. After learning who the higher-ups are in BTS, I have taken to avoiding them like the plague. It was a relatively easy thing to do since the spring semester tended to be less focused on rushing and recruiting for fraternities and sororities.

But now it’s rush season, and I’m pretty much fucked. There will be no avoiding seeing BTS’s president Kim Namjoon out recruiting with his vice president Min Yoongi and his social chair Jung Hoseok. There will also be no avoiding pledge master Taehyung leading around new BTS pledges like a mother duckling. And don’t even get me started on how Kim Seokjin, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook will be popping up everywhere to advertise the latest BTS bash.

Sighing, I figure that the chances of actually bumping into them at the bar will be slim, given that it will most likely be super crowded and I can easily blend in.

I turn to Jenni as we keep walking towards our next classes, “Yeah, I’ll go to Hannigan’s. Are you going to come over to get ready at our place?”

Luna and I had moved into a cute little off-campus apartment over the summer. As it turned out, it’s cheaper to live off-campus than on-campus if you look hard enough. We also had it pretty good location-wise being just a few short blocks from both campus and downtown.

“Yes!” Jenni replies, slowing to a stop out front of the science building, “I’ll be over around 8 with tequila. I’ll text you later. I’ve got to go to neuro-psych lab now,” she rolls her eyes, “Hopefully we won’t be kept the whole time.”

Waving, we part ways, and I shake my head.

Tequila never leads to anything good.

Hannigan’s – 10:54pm

Fate seems to be on my side for once in my life. As soon as Luna, Jenni and I walk into Hannigan’s, my eyes are drawn to the back table where the BTS usually sits. It’s empty.

It’s practically an unspoken rule that no one else can sit there, and even though the bar is packed with all other tables accounted for, that one remains vacant – and for good reason.

Greek life essentially has a cult following around here. The Greeks provide status for those who are into that whole exclusivity thing. They also provide the best parties because of the size of their houses and because the university will never complain about one of their best sources of revenue.

I didn’t to rush a sorority way back in freshman year because I couldn’t feasibly afford it. The dues were way out of my price range, considering I was already paying for my education on my own. Luna, on the other hand, is in Epsilon Xi Delta (EXID) and consistently makes me and Jenni tag along to different Greek parties with her.

“Come on, bitches! Let’s get some drinks,” Jenni drags me and Luna through the packed room towards the bar that is already encircled by a crowd of thirsty students.

Tonight’s plan is simple – stick together, have fun, scope out cute seniors. Having already taken some shots before we left (saving that coin), we’re definitely feeling ourselves, flaunting our outfits like we didn’t spend a good hour picking them out earlier.

I had settled on a black t-shirt dress with a checkered flannel tied around the waist and some black Doc Martens. Luna and Jenni had tried to convince me to wear heels with them, but I knew syllabus week was a marathon – not a sprint. My feet would thank me later, and theirs would be crying.

As the bartender slides us our beers, the opening beats of Cocky AF by our badass queen Megan Thee Stallion blast through the speakers dispersed throughout the bar. Turning immediately to each other, we clink our beers together, take a sip, and head to the makeshift dance floor.

We squeeze and push our way through the masses until we reach a spot towards the back where the crowd has thinned out a little more. Within seconds, we’re in motion, hips swaying in time to Megan saying ‘bitch, I look good and you know that’.

Shaking out my hair, I get in the zone and lose count of how many songs we dance to. Eventually, our beers empty and Luna turns to me, “Another?“ She accompanies her shouted question with an unnecessary charade of shot-gunning a beer in case I couldn’t hear her. I roll my eyes, laughing while I nod in response.

“Save our spot!” Jenni yells and disappears into the crowd of dancers with Luna towards the bar.

I continue dancing on my own. Swaying my hips, I decide to put my hair up to try to cool off a little in the sweltering bar. The music shifts into a new song, this one slower, more seductive, a favorite of mine – Lost in the Fire featuring The Weeknd.

As Abel’s angelic voice flows over me, a pair of hands slide over my hips from behind me. I start to pull away, but then I notice – the hands are tattooed. And for some reason, that hot little fact makes me relax into the large body behind me.

Those tattooed hands tug me back even more, bringing me flush against him as he falls into time with my movements. God, this guy can dance – a rarity these days.

His body is all hard muscle and heated skin. His mouth is hot against my neck, alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting. My skin buzzes. Fuck, I haven’t felt this way since–

Turning my head slightly, I can make out the vague outline him and it confirms my sinking suspicion… He’s a BTS boy.

"Hey, noona,” he murmurs in my ear, his lips brushing over it as he speaks.

Fuck my life, I think as I shiver involuntarily in response. Spinning to face one of Satan’s henchmen, I toss my ponytail over my shoulder and jut a hip out in both defiance and defense. But really nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Jeon fucking Jungkook, the golden boy of BTS.

He somehow looks like he’s gotten even bigger since the last I saw him playing pong against Taehyung at that party – information that I cannot even comprehend. His left arm is completely tattooed, along with a few smaller ones dotting his hands. I glare at them, blaming those hands for throwing me off.

“Like them?” Jungkook waves his fingers in front of my narrowed eyes, “I got them this summer.” Smirking lazily, Jungkook makes his own perusal of me – taking extra time along the way.

His jaw flexes as his eyes turn molten, “You’re killing me, noona. Tae didn’t mention…” He trails off, swallowing hard.

I follow his gaze. Oh fuck. I had forgotten I decided to forego a regular bra tonight because I wanted to show off my piercings. Just having a thin bralette under my dress, my pierced nipples are definitely noticeable under Jungkook’s heavy stare.

Refusing to give into him, I square my shoulders, “Yeah, I got them this summer, too. But, I don’t see how that’s either your or Taehyung’s business.”

At my words, Jungkook rips his eyes away from my tits to finally meet my own eyes again, “Oh, but it really is our business. Tae said we’d like you and I agree.”

His voice is low and rough, and I swear I can feel it washing over my body, making all of my synapses fire in response.

“We?” I choked out. In full panic mode, I spin and try to leave, but I barely make it a foot away before getting stopped by a now-familiar tattooed hand wrapped around my wrist.

Luckily, a crashing sound echoes from the back table where the other BTS boys must be, and Jungkook lets out a string of curses, “Fucking hell, listen I have to go make sure no one’s hurt, or Joon will kill me. Stay here, okay? I’m not done with you, (y/n).”

His hand rushes up to the nape of my neck, pulling me into him. Our lips fuse together in a brutally hot kiss, his tongue slipping against my bottom lip for a fraction of a second.

And then he’s gone – disappearing rapidly through the fray to manage whatever trouble his frat has gotten into.

I stand there, shaking fingers on my lips wondering what the actual fuck just happened.

“Hey, sorry we took so long! This bitch cut in front of us and I swear she ordered for the entire fucking population of North America—”

Luna smacks Jenni’s arm, cutting her off, “You okay, (y/n)?” Luna peers closer at me, “Holy shit, is that a hickey?  We were only gone for 10 minutes!”

My hand flies to my neck as both Jenni and Luna grab me, dragging me to the slightly quieter back alley of the bar. As they conduct the second Spanish Inquisition, I spill the details on what happened.

After a moment of silence following my explanation, they both start talking at once:

→ Jenni: “Hell yes, girl, go off! Jeon Jungkook is fine as fuck…” → Luna: “(y/f/n) (y/m/n) (y/l/n), have you lost your damn mind…”

→ Jenni: “…I’d hit that in a heartbeat. I’m so proud!” → Luna: “…Do you not remember last semester? Are you high? Oh my GOD, did he drug you?!”

“Stop!” I slap a hand over each of their mouths, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you guys are impossible. I am not ‘hitting’ anything, and, no, he did not fucking drug me.”

Sighing, I continue, “It was a lapse in judgement, okay? I remember last semester more than anyone, but he’s just so powerful and I don’t seem to have any common sense around BTS.”

I take my hands away from their mouths and immediately Jenni asks, “Wait, what happened last semester?”

Luna slings an arm around my shoulder, “Come on, let’s go get pizza and a six-pack from Ralph’s. We can go out another night this week.”

“Take-out from Ralph’s?” Jenni’s eyes widen comically, “This must be major tea. Let’s go.”

Instinctively, we clink our beers together for the second time that night and chug the remainder of our bottles in true broke bitch fashion (never leave paid-for beer behind).

With that, we trek back through the door and out of the bar. We finish our night filling in Jenni with our less than savory experience with the infamous BTS fraternity last semester.

But, as I lay in bed for the night, I can’t help but wonder if Jungkook had looked for me that night after I left… Or if he told Taehyung…

Chapter Two

Habitat for Humanity Worksite – 9:26am

When I signed up to volunteer Saturday morning of syllabus week, I should have known I would end up regretting it. I almost punted my alarm clock out of the apartment window this morning, but instead settled a slightly more civil action – punching the shit out of the ‘off’ button.

Don’t get me wrong: I love volunteering. It’s been part of my routine since sophomore year when I was recruited for the all-women’s service society on campus – the Alphites. As a society, us Alphites volunteer around campus and in our local community each week. There’s something about doing service together that really creates bonds, and the girls in the society have quickly become some of my closest friends.

We sign up to volunteer for a variety of different service projects each week, and Habitat is my current favorite project to sign up for. As a nonprofit organization, Habitat for Humanity helps families build and improve places to call home. Currently, our regional Habitat is working on building a house from the ground up for a local family in need.

Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form a very ‘handy’ person. Luckily for me, there are always a couple volunteers with construction or engineering backgrounds who are willing to teach other volunteers with less experience – or none, like me.

Since beginning to volunteer at the site last year, I have learned how to use a power saw, how to fasten siding, and how to mix, pour and level cement. It’s definitely empowering to learn new skills and also to see how my handiwork contributes to someone’s future home. I also feel lowkey badass when I get to use the power drill for anything.

Pulling up to the worksite, I clutch my cherished 24oz. Wawa coffee. I finally feel somewhat human as I park my beat-up Jeep Wrangler and hop out to meet the other volunteers for our task assignments.

The site leader Eddie – a burly retiree with a background in construction management – greets me with a huge grin, “(y/n)-doll, we missed you this summer! I can’t believe you abandoned us during the hottest months of the year.”

I roll my eyes, smiling at his teasing. Eddie’s like a teddy bear disguised as a grizzly – all rough edges and a heart of gold. “Missed you, too, Eddie.”

“Look at our progress now,” he continues, “Pretty impressive, yeah?” Nodding, I greet some regular volunteers I recognize as Eddie leads me around the house. He proceeds to show me what they had done over the summer in my absence – and they had done a lot. The house now had its full foundation and wooden framing with most of the doors and windows installed.

As we walk back to the front of the house to the main area, I sip my coffee and turn to Eddie, “So, what can I work on today, fearless leader?”

Letting out a patented ‘Eddie belly-laugh’, he replies, “I know you worked on the siding at our last site so I’m gonna have you work on where we started the siding on the right side of the house.”

Sweet, I could work with that. “Aye, aye, captain,” I respond with a lazy salute of my coffee cup. Before I can turn to start towards the scaffolding to begin, Eddie stops me.

“Oh, one more thing. I’m gonna need you to orient our new volunteer and let him shadow you today. Kid’s from the same school as you, I think… Mandatory service. Anyway, he should be here any minute.”

Shit, I know what ‘mandatory service’ means. It’s the first form of disciplinary action that the college issues and is usually the only form of disciplinary action for our athletes or for Greek life – a fact I actively resent. During my time in the Alphites, I have had to deal with some of these ‘mandatory service’ characters and they’ve never been much fun to be around.

“Ah, that’s probably him now,” Eddie startles me out of my thoughts of dread and doom as a black gleaming Tesla practically purrs down the block, swinging into the spot next to my Wrangler. Scowling, I cross my arms as I survey the stark contrast between this person’s shiny-ass luxury car and my dirty-ass well-loved Jeep.

The Tesla door opens. A Timberland booted foot emerges followed by a thick leg encased in light jeans, a tanned well-muscled arm…

No. Nope, it couldn’t be— Please, not today, Satan.

He stands with his back to us now, stretching out his large body. In only a cutoff t-shirt, his rippling back muscles might be enough to send me into an early grave.

I sigh in bitter defeat of the inevitable. Seriously, the fucking universe must have it out for me because I can’t seem to shake this stupid fucking fraternity.

As if the boy feels my eyes on him, he turns. His eyes immediately clash with mine as he slams his car door, clicking the lock over his shoulder. Those eyes – golden brown beneath dark brows and a wave of bleached blonde hair. Their focus is absolute – hard – as he strolls towards us. It’s almost as if he knows the maddening effect that he has on me.

I think Eddie is speaking, but my senses are on lockdown, his words muted. My thighs tighten as my pulse picks up. Get a fucking grip, (y/n). I can’t let him know that just one look from him has me thirsty and oxygen-deprived. I can’t look away – that would be succumbing to weakness.

Instead, I hold his heated gaze as best I can as his confident gait brings him closer. God, he’s got to be at least 6 foot…

The goddamn president of BTS Kim Namjoon is getting closer and I can’t help running my eyes over him.

His thighs flex and shift beneath his jeans with every calculated step. His abs are apparent under his tight cutoff shirt emblazoned with his fraternity letters.

Namjoon stops in front of us, hands stuffed into his back pockets, biceps flexing. “Nice to finally meet you, Eddie,” Namjoon takes his eyes off me long enough to greet Eddie and shake his hand, but then they’re right back on me, “Hi, (y/n).”

He drags out my name in a such a sinful way that even old Eddie does a slight doubletake. Clearing his throat unnecessarily loudly, Eddie booms, “You two know each other?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Our differing replies sound at the same time.

“Yes,” Namjoon repeats, lips turning up in an infuriating smile, “We have several mutual friends that she’s met a couple times now. Want me to jog your memory? I’d be more than happy to do so.”

Eddie takes one look at my face and hustles off, mumbling something about support beams. I guess my inner thoughts of ‘kill, maim, slaughter’ could easily be read from my facial expression.

Namjoon opens his mouth to speak again, but I’m faster, “Listen, Kim, I don’t know who you think you are, and, quite frankly, I don’t care. What I do care about is this house and these people working on it. Don’t fuck this up for me, okay? Let’s just get through today and then you can go back to ordering around your brothers and causing general mayhem.”

I’m feeling pretty proud of my little soliloquy until I realize he’s still smiling with those blasted dimples out in full display. No, his smile has grown even wider now as he simply answers, “The semester.”

My nose crinkles in confusion, “What?”

“The semester,” he repeats, “I’m assigned here every Saturday for the rest of the semester.”

I stare at him.

He smirks back.

I stare.

His smirk begins to fade, “Uh, did you hear me?”

I stare.

“Okay, you’re creeping me out now, (y/n),” Namjoon waves his giant paw of a hand in front of my face, “How many fingers?”

I break out of my trance of denial and hiss, “What did you do? Double homicide? Serial arson? Oh my god, you were the one who blew up the science lab!”

His hand covers my mouth – it’s rough and warm and entirely disarming.

“You have quite the imagination, jagi. I’ll keep that in mind,” Namjoon chuckles, “To answer your question, I did none of the above. Now, answer a couple questions of mine: what did you do to get here and – more importantly – why did you distract Jungkook from doing his fucking job on Monday?”

I glare in response, waiting for him to remove his hand from my mouth. He takes too long, and I lick his palm. It works. He removes his hand, but from the look on his face it seems like he liked my tongue on his skin entirely too much.

Thankfully, Eddie chooses the perfect moment to yell across the site, “What are you doing just standing there, (y/n)-doll? I don’t pay you to just loiter around all day!”

“You don’t pay me at all!” I yell back, already moving towards the trailer with all the supplies to get started. Namjoon follows.

“(y/n)-doll?” his eyebrows are raised as I hand him a pair of the biggest gloves I could find, “What’s up with that?”

Taking a pair of smaller gloves for myself, I turn to look for some hammers and nails as I respond, “I’ve been here a while. He’s like my honorary grandfather at this point.”

I spot the hammers and nails tucked away on the highest corner shelf and I huff. Namjoon follows my gaze, “Need a strong, intelligent, tall young man to grab those for you?”

He’s impossible, but for some reason it draws a small smile to my face, “Yes, that’d be great.”

The smile I receive in response is so bright I wonder if it could make flowers grow, “Okay, but only if answer my questions, (y/n).”

I shrug, trying not to notice how his cutoff shirt rises as he stretches to reach the upper shelf. I catch a sudden glimpse of his abs, and I praise every god out there that hot weather can be blamed for my sudden onset of sweat.

Clearing my throat, I laugh lightly, “Fine, first of all, I didn’t ‘distract’ Jeon. I just had a temporary lapse in judgement. Besides, he came to me all on his own.” His back muscles tense up at my words, but I continue, “And second of all, there’s no juicy story of how I got here. I just volunteer here every Saturday for the Alphites.”

The sound of a hammer hitting the floor startles me as he whirls around, “You’re an Alphite?”

Namjoon’s tone is one of disbelief and it’s a tone I do not appreciate, “Yes, why is that so hard to believe?” My arms cross defensively, “I’ve been a sister since my sophomore year…”

I trail off. He’s still gawking at me ridiculously. Narrowing my eyes, I stride across the trailer and grab his chin, closing his mouth for him, “Watch out, Kim, you’re gonna catch flies.”

Spinning on my heels, I sashay out of the trailer, nose held high in the air and satisfaction held even higher. He’ll catch up. After all, he’s basically supposed to be my bitch today.

I climb up the scaffolding next to the house’s right side and assess the siding work that has already been started. It looks pretty solid and level. I should have no issue with continuing without having to make any initial corrections.

The sound of a bucket of nails hitting the top platform I’m sitting on alerts me of Namjoon’s impending presence. Saving the bucket from teetering over the edge – a safety hazard for sure – I watch amusedly as Namjoon struggles stay upright and climb up to where I am on the scaffolding. Finally, he plops down next to me – entirely too close. I can feel his stare on my skin as I steadfastly ignore him.

“Hey, jagi,” he pokes my arm, “(y/n), listen, you just caught me off guard. I mean, you don’t seem like the type to be an Alphite – that’s all.”

Fury curls up inside me for the umpteenth time that morning, as I turn to face Namjoon with a sickly-sweet smile that has him flinching back, “Then do tell, Namjoon, what type I seem to be?”

I pick up the hammer closest to me and dip a hand into the nail bucket. The sooner this siding got done, the sooner I could haul ass out of here.

“I feel like that’s a trick question,” Namjoon sighs, rubbing a hand over his chin, “I didn’t mean anything bad by it, okay? I guess I just have always thought that your society was a bunch of mom-types—”

I cut him off with a swing of my hammer in the air, “What’s wrong with mom-types, you uncultured swine? And is serving your community really such a ‘mom’ thing to do? I’m sorry. I must have missed that memo. Here I was thinking that it was public service but go off I guess.”

He blinks, “Did you just call me an ‘uncultured swine’?”

I sniff in indignation, “Get with the times, Kim. I just roasted your ass. Now hand me that piece of siding and make yourself useful.”

“You’re so weird,” Namjoon mutters, sliding my request over to me.

“So what?” I shrug, “All the best people are weird. Now, do me a solid and explain to me why you and your ‘brothers’ keep suspiciously popping up everywhere I go.”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he grins, “We’re interested.”

“What does that even mean? That you’re interested?” I wrack my brain, “As in all seven of you fuckers?”

“It means, jagi,” Namjoon pauses, leaning closer, “It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”

Chapter Three

“It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”

We’re going to date the shit out of you.

We’re. Going. To. Date. The. Shit. Out. Of. You.

Those words play on a constant loop in my head for the rest of the week. After Namjoon had dropped that bombshell on me, I’d kind of freaked the fuck out, faked an immediate illness, and ran at full speed.

When I had told Luna about it later that night, she had been just as shook as me. Surprisingly enough, she had also given her full support of whatever I decided to do but “would have her banana slicer on standby and would order six more if need be”.

It appears that she had drunk-ordered a banana slicer off Amazon when the last boy she talked to pissed her off. I had apparently drunk-approved the decision. Rad.

Jenni’s reaction had been even better. We’d been in the library on Monday and her screech of “he said what!?” had led to multiple events:

An abundance of shushes from every student within a 50-yard radius

Her continued rant: “Your own personal harem! Can you say goals? Maybe I should infiltrate EXO and collect my own…”

Us getting kicked out by our ancient librarian

For the rest of the week, I had Luna and Jenni both giving me shit about the BTS boys. It had helped that I hadn’t run into them at all on campus between classes. But I had known it wouldn’t be long before my luck would run out…

Quinn Library – 2:31pm

Typically, I don’t spend my Friday afternoons deep within the stacks of the library’s quiet floor. Yet, here I sit typing frantically due to my incapability to stop procrastinating. My fingers fly over the keys of my aging MacBook in hopes that whatever spur of productivity I had going on is captured in its fullest.

General education classes could burn in the pits of hell as far as I’m concerned. If I wanted to be a psychiatrist, why did I have to take – and pay for – an art elective that I would likely never utilize in the workforce? Plus, the only class within the category that fit my schedule ended up being “Writing About Dance”.

Yeah, I’m still a tad bitter, but in all honesty the class isn’t that bad so far. It mainly consists of watching different dance performances and learning how to write about them in different styles.

Today’s assignment is to write critical commentary on videos of the university’s dance team that the professor provided for us. Sighing, I finish my review of the second to last dance video provided by the professor, take a quick second to stretch, and then open the link to the last video on the assignment page.

“Park Jimin – Final Performance Solo, Spring 2019”

Slack-jawed, I fall into wonder as Jimin moves through his routine flawlessly. He dances like it’s easier than walking to him. His movements are somehow precise and fluid all at once. I barely realize a few tears have run down my cheeks until the video cuts off, signaling the end of Jimin’s performance.

Jesus, (y/n), get it together. I laugh lightly as I dig in my backpack for a tissue. How could I possibly capture the ethereal beauty that Jimin exuded into words? Am I even worthy of commenting on such exquisiteness?

Definitely fucking not. And before I can second guess myself, I type: “Park Jimin is art in its purest form. Watching him dance is like watching the sun rise over the ocean – raw beauty accompanied by the hopes brought with a new day. His performance left me wanting for nothing except an encore.”

Boom. Submit Assignment.

As my email pings with the confirmation that my assignment is turned in, my eyes widen in realization. Park Jimin of BTS is a dance god, and he – allegedly – wants to date me? That is just ridiculously unfathomable.

Namjoon must be off his rocker.

Closing my laptop, my phone suddenly vibrates with an incoming notification from snapchat…

President_RM has added you!

Before I can even comprehend the absurdity of Namjoon adding me, my phone bursts into a series of buzzes. Cursing, I switch my phone to silent and check my screen.

minsuga93 has added you!

jhopeworld_ has added you!

handsomeJIN has added you!

JKookie97 has added you!

vantae_BTS has added you!

95jiminie has added you!

Are they serious? How did they even get my SnapChat username?

vantae_BTS has added you to a chat!

Curiosity wins out over aggravation as I swipe to open the chat.

Heart pounding, I fight the urge to chuck my phone into the depths of the bookcases winding around the room. What did those idiots want with me?

(y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 9:45pm

“What do those idiots want with me?” the decibel my voice has risen to is shocking even to my ears.

Luna cringes, accordingly, “I can’t tell if that’s a rhetorical question…”

I steamroll onwards, “And don’t even get me started on how they could have even gotten my snapchat. It’s a complete invasion of privacy!”

“You could just ask them,” Jenni’s voice cuts through my rambling tirade.

I pause, “No, I couldn’t—”

…Or could I?

Turning on my heel, I rush into my room and head straight for my closet. Grabbing the nearest sweatshirt and pair of leggings, I tug them on and then grab my keys from my nightstand.

Whirling back into the living room, I storm past a dumbfounded Luna and Jenni, “Be right back.”

Opening the apartment door, Luna shouts, “Wait! Where are you going? You’re not even wearing shoes!”

Whoops. I glance at my feet and note that she is, in fact, correct.

Jenni bounds over to me holding my Doc Martens, “Here, babe. You’re going to the BTS house, aren’t you?”

I nod grimly and salute my two best friends as if I’m going into battle. “I won’t be long. I just have a small errand to run.”

“Well, you’re not going alone,” Luna declares, pulling on her sneakers.

Jenni snorts and shoves her feet into her beat-up Converse, “No way am I missing out on this action.”

As we head out the door, I link arms with Luna and Jenni, “Have I mentioned I love you both recently?”

“Right back at you, bitch,” Luna laughs.

Greek Row – 10:17pm

Ten minutes later, we reach Greek Row. Fraternity and sorority houses dot the street on both sides. Personally, I think of this street as home to the chaotic rich, and I tend to avoid it at all costs – except tonight.

The line to get into BTS is so long it wraps around the block. Students dressed in the latest fashions converse as they wait, huddling together in their groups. I glance down at my outfit of a worn university hoodie and leggings.

“Well, shit. We’re underdressed, huh,” Jenni deadpans, causing all three of us to burst into laughter, “Do you think they put you on the list, (y/n)?”

Pondering that thought, I shrug, “Maybe,” and begin marching past the line of waiting students towards the front door of BTS, “But I sure as fuck am not waiting in that line.”

“Hey, there’s a line here!”

“Yo, bitches! What are you doing?”

“What the fuck?”

Paying the hecklers no mind, I saunter right up to the BTS pledges guarding the door, “Hi, I need to talk to Kim Namjoon.”

The pledge on the right rakes his gaze over me incredulously and then makes the same assessment of Luna and Jenni, “You know this is a party, right?”

I don’t deem that comment worthy of a response and instead cross my arms over my chest. He shrinks under the collective glare of me, Luna and Jenni.

The pledge on the left awkwardly clears his throat, “Names, please?”

My answer barely escapes my lips before the pledges visibly straighten, looking at me with new eyes, “You’re (y/n)? Why didn’t you just say so?”

And before I can answer, the front door swings open for us.

People are everywhere. A haze of smoke looms in the air, and rap music blares from the speakers. The bass is turned up so loud that the beat seems to take over the rhythm of my pulse. That cannot be healthy.

Turning to my friends, I do my best to communicate, shouting, “I’m going to find them! Are you going to be here?”

Luna and Jenni exchange a look and nod. Jenni shouts back, “We’re going to get some drinks. Might as well capitalize on free booze! Text us when you’re ready to go.”

And with that, we part ways.

Maneuvering around the sea of gyrating bodies in the main living room area, I scan around for any signs of my seven menaces.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Or is that my future wife?” The deep voice booms from behind me.

I sigh, recognizing the voice, and turn around.

Kim Taehyung is striding towards me with his arms outstretched, smiling like the damned fool he is and looking like he just stepped off the runway for Gucci. “Come to daddy.”

An idea forms. I smile sweetly and walk to meet Taehyung halfway. His boxy grin widens and just as he thinks I’m going to let him wrap his arms around me, I grab him by the ear.

“Ouch!” He cries, “Devil-woman!”

Ignoring him, I drag him behind me towards the stairs.

“If you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked—OW!”

My hold on his ear tightens as we arrive on the second-floor landing, “Where are your brothers?”

“I don’t know, n-noona!” Somehow the honorific coming from Tae sounds divine, but I file that thought away for another time.

Removing my hold, I corner him against the wall of the hallway, “Okay, Kim, here’s what is going to happen. You’re going to point me in the direction of your room, go find your six idiot brothers, and then report back here so I can finally understand what the fuck is going on. Got it?”

My chest heaves as my directions conclude and I realize how close together we are. Taehyung stares at me with an indecipherable expression before breaking into a slow smile, “Noona is bossy.”

“Noona is going to shove her foot up your ass if you don’t get moving,” I growl.

“Kinky,” he laughs, backing away from me and my brewing anger, “Last door on the left is my room. I’ll be back with the six idiots.”

As he thumps back down the steps, I close my eyes and count to ten, trying to steel my nerves and rein in my anger. When I open them, my eyes are met with the amused gaze of Min Yoongi.

Slapping a hand to my heart, I wait for my pulse to settle from being scared out of my wits, “Motherfuck—how did you even move that silently?”

“It’s a skill,” Yoongi drawls, nodding towards to end of the hall, “So, group meeting in Tae’s room?”

Shooting him the best side-eye I can muster, I stalk past him, steadfastly ignoring the chuckles and light footfalls that follow behind me.

Throwing open the door which Taehyung indicated was to his room, I pause, taking in the horde of photos and art taped to the four walls. The light blue wallpaper barely peeks through the absolute massive amount of artwork.

“It’s overwhelming at first, isn’t it?” An angelic voice shyly breaks through my reverie, “Tae likes to collect pictures and things he finds beautiful.”

“Ah, so that’s why we’re friends.” The joke is followed by a laugh that can only be compared to the sound of a windshield wiper squeakily moving back and forth.

I shift my eyes from Taehyung’s walls and onto the two newcomers – Park Jimin and Kim Seokjin.

Meeting Seokjin’s gaze first, I cannot help but agree that he is a very, very beautiful man. With pushed back dark hair, mischievous brown eyes and impossibly broad shoulders, Seokjin can easily be mistaken for an idol. And, oh fuck, I’m still staring.

Shooting my eyes back up to his, I crinkle my nose at his shit-eating grin. Before he can even comment, I turn and lock eyes with Jimin.

“Your dancing is gorgeous,” I blurt out and immediately want to crawl under a rock and live out the rest of my life as Patrick Star.

Yoongi and Seokjin are cackling as Jimin’s face lights up at my embarrassing compliment, “You really think so?”

“There’s no shutting him up now,” Yoongi is in tears, “Watch out, (y/n). Jimin loves his fans.”

“Shut up, Yoongi-hyung!”

Jimin looks ready to swing, but luckily Taehyung chooses the right moment to return, “What have we missed? Why is Jiminie about to fight Yoongi? I’ll put $10 on hyung.”

Gasping in betrayal, Jimin sits on the edge of Tae’s bed and pouts.

The rest of the boys file in behind Taehyung as he flops down onto his bed and reclines like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Hi, (y/n). Good to see you again. I’m glad you’re here,” Namjoon greets me with a slight bow, a crooked smile and wicked eyes.

He’s followed closely by Jung Hoseok, the only BTS boy I hadn’t met thus far, “(y/n)! It’s so nice to meet you in person! Wow, you look so pretty tonight!”

“Noona always looks pretty,” Jungkook cuts in, throwing an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder, “She’s bae.”

A collective groan arises from the rest of the boys. “Sit your ass down, JK,” Yoongi grumbles, “(y/n)’s going to break up with us before we even start dating.”

“Dating—!” I break off that train of thought. Other matters need to be attended to first, “No, I didn’t come here tonight to say ‘hi’ or to be your ‘bae’. I came here to get answers.”

I take my time making eye contact with each boy.

Taehyung is still spread out on his bed and Jimin has now joined him. Seokjin, Hoseok and Jungkook are sprawled out on the floor at the foot of the bed, while Namjoon and Yoongi slouch against the opposite wall of the bedroom facing me.

“Alright,” Namjoon lifts his chin, meeting my stare head on, “What do you want to know?”

Chapter Four

Taehyung’s Room, BTS House – 10:49pm

“Alright. What do you want to know?”

Namjoon’s question fills the room. The boys all stare at me with anticipation, leaning forward with furrowed brows.

I ponder my course of action for all of two seconds before launching into my well-practiced rant, “I want to know what sort of sick prank you think you’re playing, because I am not falling for it. I mean – all of you wanting to date one person? Date me? Seems fake, but okay.”

Some of the boys move to interrupt me, but I thrust up a palm, “No, please let me finish. I know I don’t really have the right to make judgements about you guys, but I have seen some misogynistic behavior from your frat. So, I feel like it’s not that far-fetched for me to think that you’re probably playing me.”

“Messy gymnast behavior? What’s that?” Jungkook whispers to Hoseok who just shrugs, looking equally as baffled.

“Misogynistic, Kook, not messy gymnast,” Namjoon pinches his nose in frustration, “It means prejudiced against women.”

Seokjin and Jimin descend into fits of laughter. Hoseok still looks mildly perplexed, and Yoongi takes a large sip of soju from a bottle he procured from god knows where within the last few minutes.

Covering his face, Jungkook dives behind Jin in hopes of further hiding his embarrassment.

“I think I know what she’s talking about.”

The room quiets at Taehyung’s interjection. He reluctantly sits up from his relaxed position on his bed and explains, “When we met at our party last semester, she found out about our old pledge tradition.”

“Oh, damn,” Jimin sighs, “So that’s why you motioned to remove it from the chapter’s history at the last meeting.”

“Yeah,” Tae looks me in the eyes, “We voted removed it, (y/n) … A little too late though, it seems.”

Jungkook peeks his head out from behind Jin’s shoulder, “We’re sorry, noona.”

Trying not to internally melt in response at the youngest’s display of classic puppy-dog eyes, I slump against the wall and slide into a sitting position on the floor. “Look, I’m not going to say that ‘it’s okay’ because it’s not. But I do appreciate that you removed it.”

The boys hang their heads, looking properly chastised.

“That’s fair,” Namjoon finally says quietly, “We know as a frat we fucked up. We’re not perfect. We make a lot of mistakes. But we’re trying to get back to being respectable and move on from here.”

“We’re trying to get back your respect,” Yoongi rubs the back of his neck, looking at me with wide eyes and more attentiveness than I’ve ever seen from him.

“But that’s the other thing,” I look away, pulling at a random thread fraying off of the sleeve of my sweatshirt, “Why does it matter so much that I respect you? Why are you all so invested in me all of a sudden? In all honesty, I haven’t said more than two words in conversation to half of you.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t really matter,” Namjoon shrugs, shifting to lean casually against the wall.

My eyes narrow, “How can it not matter?”

“Because we date as a group, (y/n)-noona,” Jimin smiles down at me from his perch on Taehyung’s bed, all squishy cheeks and crinkled eyes, “Tae thought we’d all like you, and then Jungkookie and Joon-hyung agreed and—”

Hoseok excitedly chimes in, arms swinging wildly, “And finding someone who we all like hasn’t happened in so long, and I’m so happy!”

“Yah, Hobi!” Jin reaches over Jungkook to shove the bouncing boy, “We’re supposed to be playing it cool. We have to woo her.” He winks and blows me a kiss.

Instinctively, I swat it away and then giggle at Seokjin’s indignant gasp.

“I take it back! She’s mean!” Launching into a passionate rant complete with head shaking and wild eyes, Jin continues, “Consider that kiss null and void. I have never been so insulted in my entire life, you know!”

Tears stream down my cheeks as I collapse from laughing alongside the rest of the boys. Namjoon’s dimples are out in full force as he drawls, “Hyung, that’s what you said yesterday when I beat you in Overwatch.”

Seokjin splutters over the now-renewed laughter of his younger brothers, “I thought I told you to never speak of that again!”

Trailing off in mumbles of how he needs new friends and how disrespected he is as an elder, Jin resorts to pouting in the corner.

“You’ll have to excuse Seokjin-hyung, (y/n),” Taehyung smirks at me with raised eyebrows, “He’s skated by solely on his looks up until now.”

Seokjin’s pouting intensifies.

“He is handsome,” I instinctively respond, fully focused on the beauty of Jin’s pouty lips. And when those lips break into a huge grin, I cringe at my lapse in judgement for the thousandth time that night.

“My faith in humanity has been restored!” Jin ambles back to his original spot next to Jungkook and thrusts a paper heart that he apparently had been carrying on his person for quite some time in my direction.

“Hyung,” Hoseok eyes Seokjin with a concerned frown, “Where did you even get that from?”

“That’s one secret I’ll never tell.” Jin barely finishes that sentence before a flurry of pillows, water bottles, and other miscellaneous items are thrown at him from all angles.

“I thought we agreed no more quoting Gossip Girl, Jin-hyung!” Jimin cries as he continues to hit Jin with a pillow from Tae’s bed.

Miraculously still even able to speak under the assault from the other boys, Jin replies with complete sincerity, “XOXO.”

Chaos reigns.

Watching all seven of them in - presumably - their most natural state, I sigh in amusement, “Y’all are too much.”

Somehow the boys hear me, because they all turn to face me once more with various expressions of playfulness and mirth. Jin still lies under the pile of them laughing slightly as they slowly shift off of him.

“Nah, I think we might be just enough for you, noona,” Jungkook pipes up as he plops down on the edge of Taehyung’s bed.

“Yeah? And how do you know that?” A sudden thought occurs to me, “Wait, why do you all even date one person anyway? Don’t you realize like half the campus is in love with each of you?”

“You’re included in that half, right?” Taehyung grins and then shrinks under my withering glare, “I mean, it’s a long story?”

“Oh, hold on,” I check my wrist, which noticeably has no watch, “Mhm, that’s right. It’s story time.”

Jimin snorts and then burrows under the covers in mortification.

“Cute,” Hoseok sighs, staring at me, “I want to keep you.”

And there’s something about having Jung Hoseok’s full attention and adoration that brings me to peak devastation. I pull my hood up over my head and burrow into my sweatshirt.

“Aw!” Various yells rebound around the room. I flip them all off.

“Hobi,” Yoongi teases, “I think she likes you.”

I peek out of the safety of my sweatshirt to eviscerate him with my eyes, but Yoongi just raises one brow coolly and calls me out, “Well, am I wrong, jagi?”

All eyes are on me, and the room is suddenly so quiet that all I can hear is the muffled party downstairs and the beating of my heart.

“… I want my lawyer,” I finally declare, re-emerging from the depths of my sweatshirt and crossing my arms.

“Oh, come on, noona!” Jimin shuffles across the room and kneels in front of me, causing me to descend into a panic, “You like Hoseok-hyung, right? Well, what about me? Do you like me?”

Jimin peers down at me, pink hair tussled and eyes shining. How could I ever say no to that beautiful face? That angelic human?

Must.

Deflect.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine. Why do you all date the same person when each of you could have anyone you want?”

Jimin deflates and sits back on his heels, frowning at my non-answer.

“But we do already date everyone we want,” Hoseok cuts in, giggling, “Well, almost.”

They’re already dating people? My mind wracks through all my knowledge of the seven boys sitting before me, but no evidence of them dating anyone pops up. “Wait, I’m confused. Who are you all dating then?”

I can’t help but feel like I’m on the outside of an inside joke as the boys all exchange looks that are all too smug for my liking.

“Seems like we did a good job, boys,” Namjoon chuckles, “People on this campus are pretty oblivious.”

“Nah,” Yoongi shakes his head, “They just choose not to see it. They want us all to be fully available.”

The lightbulb finally flickers on in my mind.

“Oh my sweet baby Jesus,” I whisper, “You’re all dating each other, aren’t you?”

Various nods answer that question. Jin, of course, being Jin, wipes an imaginary tear from his eye as he dramatically laments, “And she’s smart, too? How did we get so lucky, boys?”

“Yoongi,” I say calmly, “Please pass me that soju before I commit murder in this very room.”

Without a word, Yoongi hands me the bottle before settling down in the space next to me against the wall.

Suddenly hyperaware of my positioning, I realize I’m sitting in between Jimin and Yoongi. Jungkook, Taehyung and Hobi now sit together on Tae’s bed, while Jin remains on the floor surrounded by various pillows and debris.

Namjoon is still leaning against the opposite wall, looking way too intimidating and perfect that I’m forced to look away.

That is, until he starts to speak. “(y/n), the seven of us have always been close. We grew up together; and, somehow, we just work as a unit. We work together. It may seem odd or untraditional. Maybe it is. But, it’s who we are. And it’s how we love.”

Namjoon continues, “We don’t want to lose what we have together, this dynamic we’ve spent so long building. But, we’ve been feeling like something has been missing from our relationship lately. We’ve been looking for someone to help complete us.”

“And you think that person is me?” I suck in a jagged breath, “You really want to share me? Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

“There are crazier things,” Yoongi shrugs, taking back the bottle of soju from my grasp, “Like how Namjoon has an IQ of 148 but can’t seem to live one day without breaking something.”

Namjoon, looking affronted, opens and closes his mouth, but ultimately settles on just smiling bashfully. My heart almost explodes at such a display of cuteness.

“It’s really not that crazy, (y/n),” Taehyung interrupts my internal fawning, “You seem like a girl who’s intimidated by no one and nothing. We really, really like that. And we figured since you kissed me and Jungkook that you might be interested.”

Embarrassment washes over me. I steal back the soju from Yoongi, who just smirks knowingly.

“Besides, polyamory is actually more common than you think,” Hobi smiles in that pretty heart-shaped way of his.

He has a valid point. Who am I to be the judge of what love looks like? Who am I to criticize these boys who clearly love each other and just want one more person to love? Who am I to deny myself the opportunity to be loved by seven people?

“Can I think about it?” I ask, still fighting the inevitable for whatever reason, “I’m not saying ‘no’. I just need a bit of time to think it over.”

“Take all the time you need, baby,” Namjoon murmurs, looking like I just handed him the keys to the entire world.

“No,” Jimin groans, burrowing his head in the crook of my shoulder, “Please, please, please don’t take all the time you need, (y/n)-noona! I can’t wait that long!”

I reach up to stroke my fingers through his pink hair in an attempt to soothe the poor angel.

“Do we have permission to continue to woo you during this ‘thinking’ period?” Jin inquires, casting a look of jealousy at Jimin who is now nestled even further into me.

“Continue?” I ask, “When did you start?”

“Yah!” Seokjin exclaims, “Why does she keep roasting me?”

“I think it’s hot,” Jungkook grins at me with stars in his eyes.

“That’s because you’re a masochist, Kook,” Taehyung cackles from his perch on the bed.

“Ah, hyung!” Jungkook jumps on Taehyung in an effort to silence him, “She doesn’t need to know that yet!”

“I mean, it is pretty obvious,” I pause dramatically, dropping the pitch of my voice, “Baby boy.”

Jungkook yelps and takes off out of the room.

“Shit, was that too much?” I ask, staring at the door thrown open in Jungkook’s wake.

“No,” Tae replies, still laughing, “I think he just needs a second to calm down. I’ll go see where he went.”

Taehyung gets up from the bed and shuffles out the door in search of Jungkook. The open door allows for more sounds from the party to seep into the room.

Namjoon sighs, “I should probably check on what’s happening down there, shouldn’t I?”

“Good luck, man,” Yoongi tears the soju back out of my hand and lifts it up in cheers to Namjoon. Chuckling, Namjoon ambles over to where Yoongi, Jimin and I are crowded together and grabs the soju.

After taking a long sip, he crouches down in front of me and grasps the hand that remains unoccupied by Jimin. Bringing it to his lips, Namjoon places the lightest kiss on my knuckles. “I’m so happy you showed up tonight, baby. I can only hope that my future holds more of you in any way you choose to give me.”

Pressing his lips to my palm this time, Namjoon smiles in that completely devastating way of his and then saunters out of the room. Still gaping, I realize I never even got to say a word to him in response.

“You are so whipped for him already, jagi,” Yoongi says lowly, lips brushing my ear.

I blink. My senses are on overload. Jimin is still curled into my side, with my hand stroking his hair and his lips accidentally grazing the skin of my collarbone every so often. Now, Yoongi is closer than ever. I can feel his breath against my neck and his stare focused on my lips. Meanwhile, Hobi and Jin are slowly but surely shuffling closer to where the three of us are bunched together.

“So what if I am?” I finally answer, “Aren’t you all whipped for him, too?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Jimin mumbles into my shoulder.

My mind explodes.

“She’s not ready for that yet, Jiminie,” Jin giggles, “I’m pretty sure she’s still half convinced I worship Satan in the basement.”

“Well, I wasn’t before, but now I am,” I jokingly eye Seokjin up and down with an amused smile.

He grins back at me. I melt. And he knows it.

“Can I kiss you?” Jin asks, the slightest smirk curving his lips, a look of hunger burning in his gaze, like he could just eat me up, “Please?”

I swallow and his eyes latch onto the movement of my throat.

Before I can reconsider, I remove myself from my sitting position against the wall, much to Jimin and Yoongi’s dismay, and straddle Jin’s lap, immediately capturing his lips with my own.

The effect is instantaneous. Various groans echo around me as Jin smiles against my mouth. His hands find their way under my sweatshirt and squeeze my hips, dragging my body even closer against his.

The way Jin kisses is life-ruining in its unhurried, yet passionate deliberateness. He kisses me like he’s claiming me, and the possessiveness of his actions send a ripple of excitement through my body. Releasing my mouth, he works his way down the length of my exposed neck, and I gasp in response.

Suddenly, I feel another pair of hands twine around my body from behind as Hobi pleads into my ear, “Can I kiss you, too, (y/n)?”

I nod wordlessly, wondering what I did in my past life to deserve such affection in this one.

“No fair,” I vaguely hear Jimin pouting, “I want to kiss noona.”

“We’ll have our turn, Jiminie,” Yoongi’s voice causes a shudder of anticipation to race down my spine.

“Oh, she likes that idea,” Jin laughs, obviously having felt the tremor that shot though me in response to Yoongi’s suggestion, “Come get a taste.”

“Only if that’s what she really wants,” Yoongi says, meeting my eyes, “Don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with, kitten.”

“Kitten?” I growl, eyes narrowed sharply in his direction.

“Yep,” Yoongi’s answering smirk is slow and antagonizing, “All cute and cuddly with a hint of claws.”

“I’ll show you claws,” I say darkly, getting up, “Stand up.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “Why?”

“I won’t ask again,” I move closer to him and Jimin.

Yoongi pulls himself to his feet, acting like it was the most physical activity he’d ever done.

When he’s finally done with the dramatics, I move closer until he’s backed right up against the wall, “Min Yoongi, I’m going to shut you up now.”

His breath stutters as I slowly move my mouth closer to his. “Please do—” I cut him off.

Kissing Yoongi is just as intoxicating as kissing Jin, but in a different way. Yoongi tastes like soju and spearmint. His body melts under my touch, completely fine with letting me lead. An idea springs to mind and I slide my hand into his hair and tug lightly. He jolts with a moan.

Bingo. I smirk before kissing him deeper. My other hand winds around him to scratch my nails down his back. This time, I’m awarded with a small whine.

The fact that I’m wrecking this boy is simultaneously wrecking me. That impact doubles when I feel a small hand begin to wind its way up my calf towards my thigh. Tearing my mouth away from Yoongi, I open my eyes to see Jimin smiling up at me, “Can you kiss me like that, too, (y/n)-noona?”

“Why couldn’t you wait your turn, Jiminie,” Yoongi sulks adorably, sensing that my resolve against any request from Jimin was nonexistent.

“Well, aren’t you supposed to be showing me the perks of dating multiple people?” I joke, “Jin and Hobi just shared. Can’t you two?”

Jimin springs up off the floor faster than anyone I’ve ever seen, “Yes! We can share!”

“Good,” I reply, turning in Yoongi’s arms so that my back is pressed against him. He hisses in a breath. “Come here, Jiminie,” I open my arms to the eager boy who all but leaps into them.

“You’re so beautiful, noona,” Jimin sighs, pupils dilated, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

“So are you, baby,” I sigh, bringing a hand up to brush his cheek fondly, “So are you.”

I kiss Jimin gently, treasuring the feel of his plump lips against my own. I trace the tip of my tongue over his bottom lip and his mouth opens in a silent gasp. I use the chance to slip my tongue inside to twine with his.

Through my thoroughly fucked-out haze, I feel Yoongi’s hands settle onto my hips, grinding me slowly against his crotch. I moan into Jimin as Yoongi’s mouth sucks on the side of my neck, surely for the sole reason of marking me.

“Well, shit, JK,” Taehyung’s voice shatters the bubble of pleasure I had been residing within in the middle of four beautiful men. My eyes flutter open to take in the sight of Taehyung holding a box of pizza and a case of beer, with Jungkook right behind him. “Looks like the party started without us.”

Chapter Five

Taehyung’s Room, BTS House - 11:57pm

“Well, shit, JK. Looks like the party started without us.”

An hour ago, I would have shoved Jimin off of me and shimmied out of Yoongi’s hold. But, now? I definitely am in too deep to back down from Taehyung.

“Hmm,” I make a show of pushing my hips slightly against Yoongi’s as I turn to face Taehyung and Jungkook more fully, “Yes, it did. And you know why? Because you weren’t invited.”

Yoongi chuckles into my neck as my words detonate and land on Taehyung, who gapes in disbelief. “Don’t piss her off, Tae,“ I feel Yoongi’s grin against my neck before he places a quick kiss behind my ear.

“Yeah, Tae,” I taunt, “Don’t piss me off.”

“We leave for ten minutes. Ten! And she’s already got you like this?” Taehyung stomps over to his bed and sits in a huff, "Can I at least get a kiss, too?”

"Oh, I don’t think so,” I purr, “You see, only good boys get kisses.” Turning to Jungkook, I smile wickedly when I’m met with the cutest wide-eyed stare complete with bottom lip sucked behind his two front teeth.

“Jungkookie,” I shake Jimin and Yoongi off me and slowly turn to face the youngest, “Have you been a good boy?”

He nods frantically and gulps when my hand slips up his black t-shirt. “I’m so happy to hear that.”

“D-do I get a kiss, noona?” He asks in the tiniest voice imaginable.

“Oh, this is ridiculous!” Kim Taehyung rages from his four-poster bed, “Jungkook was just thirsting over you in the hallway!”

“Shut the fuck up, Kim,” Jungkook growls, muscles bunching under my touch. I bite back a grin over how the boy’s duality really jumps out when he’s provoked.

“Hmm, is that so, Kookie?” My hand glides into his hair at the nape of his neck to pull his gaze back to mine, “Tell me what you said, and I might still let you have a kiss.”

“What?” Taehyung cries.

“At this rate, she’s not going to touch Taehyungie for 84 years.” I hear Hoseok say, snickering. Seokjin’s squeaky laughter and Jimin’s high-pitched giggles ensue. I’m also almost certain I hear Yoongi let out a low chuckle.

“Tell me,” I order Jungkook, who immediately caves like a house of cards during an earthquake.

“I j-just said that you were cute-”

"Bullshit!”

Jungkook shoots a livid glare over my shoulder at the blue-haired boy, “And, I said that I wanted to p-play with your nipple piercings… That I bet they make you look even prettier, noona. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, baby,” I say, stroking his reddened cheeks, “You know what? I think I just might let you.”

“Really?” Jungkook looks like his birthday had arrived early.

“Really!?” Taehyung sounds like his birthday had been cancelled indefinitely.

“Really,” I confirm, whipping off my hoodie. The various curses and groans reach my ears as I toss the hoodie right at Taehyung’s slack-jawed face.

“Fuck, baby,” Seokjin hisses a breath through his teeth, "You weren’t wearing a bra this whole time?”

“Huh?” I glance down only to be greeted by my bare skin, “Oh, shit.”

“You came here. To this house. Without a bra?” A commanding voice sounds from the doorway, “Oh, babygirl, that’s a dangerous move.”

I face Namjoon, with my hands on my hips, nipples shamelessly pointed straight at him, “Dangerous? For me or for you?”

He cracks a slow smile, “Both.” God, he looks to die for tonight - black cargo-pants, tight black t-shirt, black boots. My eyes latch onto the silver chain clasped around his neck and wonder if he’d let me pull him closer with it.

An impatient hand tugs on mine. “N-noona, will you still let me touch you?” Jungkook diverts my attention from the depths of Namjoon’s dark eyes.

“Of course, Kookie,” I link my fingers through his and turn to address the problematic king on the bed, “Taehyung, move over.”

A flicker of hope sparks in Tae’s eyes as he immediately shifts to make room. I make my way over to the bed, dragging Jungkook with me.

“Jungkook, sit with your back against the headboard,” I turn to Taehyung, “You, no touching.”

“But-!”

“You’re lucky I’m even letting you stay,” I shoot him a glance, inwardly cursing at how tempting he looks sprawled out and gazing hungrily at me. Why did he have to be so insufferable?

Shifting to look at the boy practically bouncing on the bed with anticipation, I smile, “Can I sit on your lap, Jungkook?”

"Fuck yes,” he breathes out, tongue darting to wet his lower lip.

A completely diabolical and sadistic idea pops into my brain. I slowly walk to the foot of the bed. The room quiets as I lean forward and climb on the bed. On all fours, I slowly crawl towards Jungkook, holding eye-contact.

He swallows hard, eyes darting every so often to my chest. Finally, I settle onto his lap and smile victoriously at the thick bulge I feel there.

“So unfair,“ Jungkook sighs, tilting his head back with his eyes squeezed shut, "You make me so hard, (y/n)-noona.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” the corners of my mouth quirk into a small smile, “Now, do you want to play with me? Or should I ask someone else?”

Jungkook’s mouth latches onto my left nipple and sucks. His hand moves up my back and then eases around my body to cup my other breast in his hold. I jolt as he pinches my nipple without warning, a surge of pleasure swells from deep within me.

“Mmm, Jungkook,” I hum and grind my hips down onto his, craving more friction. His tongue swirls around my piercing, and my breath catches.

“Fuck,” I hear one of the boys choke out.

My eyes shoot open in search of the source and widen once I find it. Namjoon’s head is thrown back as Jimin kisses and sucks on his neck. Namjoon’s eyes remain heatedly on me as he murmurs, “Such a good boy.” Jimin and I both shiver as Namjoon’s words drip like honey off his tongue.

“Now, Jiminie,” Namjoon latches a hand through Jimin’s pink hair and tugs him away from his neck. The younger boy pouts. Namjoon ignores him, continuing, “Why don’t we show (y/n) how Kook likes to be kissed?”

At the mention of his name, Jungkook ceases his worshipping and whines, “Hyung, that’s not fair!”

“Not fair?” Taehyung’s indignant cry is immediate, “You just had (y/n)’s nipple in your mouth,  and you think this is unfair?” I look over at the irate boy, who looks thoroughly wrecked despite not having even been touched. His light blue hair is a mess, red bandana long since removed. One ring-adorned hand is pressed solidly over the bulge in his jeans. The other is thrashing wildly in the air as he articulates his point.

“Taehyung,” Namjoon growls, “Enough.”

Taehyung wisely shuts up.

A timid knock breaks the tense silence. “Hey, Pres?” A hesitant voice calls through the solid wood, “We have a situation downstairs.”

“God-fucking-damnit,” Namjoon curses and turns to me, “(y/n), baby, I have to go deal with this.”

I shrug and reach for my discarded sweatshirt next to Taehyung, “I should get going anyway. My friends are probably waiting for me.”

“But Noona!” Jungkook’s grip tightens on my hips as I tug on my top, “When will we get to see you again?”

“Jungkook, honey, this campus is only so big. Besides, you all have my SnapChat.” I cock my head, “How did you get that by the way?”

“Well, would you look at the time!” Jin lurches to his feet, “I need to go get ready for bed.”

“Kim Seokjin, I swear to god,“ I shimmy off of a pouting Jungkook, "If you step one toe out that door, I will burn your plushie collection.”

“Yah,” he exclaims, “How do you know that I even have plushies?”

I shoot him a deadpan expression and point to one of the many pictures of Seokjin on Tae’s walls. This particular Polaroid displays a sleeping Jin amongst a plethora of plushies that all seem to be the same alpaca of some sort.

“Taehyungie, you little shit!” Jin sprints to the photo and tears it from the wall. Shoving the picture in the culprit’s face, Jin rants, "When did you take this? Why did you take this?”

“Last week,” Tae answers and shrugs, looking thoroughly unapologetic, “I thought you looked cute.”

Jin huffs, “Well, that’s a given.” He turns to me, “Please leave my babies out of this.”

“Don’t worry, big boy,” I grin up at his handsome face, “I’ll just think of something else… something much, much worse.”

He purses his full lips in a mock-pout. I melt. “Aw, you’re so cute.” I reach up and squish his cheeks together.

“Don’t fall for it, (y/n)!” Hoseok yells, spurring yet another argument amongst the boys.

“Honestly,” I shake my head in bewilderment, “How do y’all even successfully date?”

“I ask myself that every damn day,” Min Yoongi smiles up at me from the floor.

Before I can respond, another knock sounds at the door. “Come on, baby,” Namjoon reaches a hand out towards me, “I’ll walk you down.”

I accept his hand and stare as it completely envelops my own. Namjoon sees my attention and gives my hand a quick squeeze.

“Alright,” I call over my shoulder to the rest of the group, “I’ll see y’all around, I guess?”

I’m faced with six grown-ass babies with varying degrees of puppy-dog eyes.

“Remember to think about what we said, noona!” Jimin begs, “Consider going out with us, okay?”

“I’m not likely going to forget that seven dudes asked me to date them,” I smile wickedly, “That only happens to me occasionally.”

With that, I walk out the door with Namjoon and revel in the chaos I left behind me.

“Occasionally?” Hoseok cries.

“I’m going to do some recon. These rivals must be eliminated.” Yoongi seethes.

“Noona wouldn’t pick another group over us, right?” Jungkook pauses, “Oh my god, she would.”

Namjoon slams the door behind us and laughs, “You’re such an instigator.”

“You right,” I nod.

Namjoon and I trail down the hallway after the jittery pledge who had interrupted us. Descending the staircase, I survey the crowd below and fail to notice anything that would qualify as a ‘situation’.

Namjoon seems to agree. “Eric, if you dragged me down here for no reason, getting an infraction will be the least of your worries…”

Eric the pledge gulps, “Pres, I swear, they’re outside.” His gaze shifts to me for a split second before returning to Namjoon, “They said they aren’t leaving until they speak to one of you. Alone.”

I huff, “I can take a hint, Eric. This is obviously ‘frat business’ or whatever.” Namjoon hides a smile behind his hand at my use of air quotes, and I do not appreciate him finding my annoyance humorous. I shoot him a murderous stare before locating Luna and Jenni from across the room.

“Bye, Joon,” I salute him and turn to head towards my friends. I barely make it one step before his hand catches my wrist.

His mouth brushes my ear as he says softly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.” He gives my hand a squeeze and then disappears into the crowd with Eric.

Goddamnit. I had forgotten about volunteering. These boys are slowly but surely infiltrating my life, and I’m not at all sure on how I feel about it. My feet drag across the room until I reach my friends.

“Ready to go?” Luna questions, linking her arm through mine.

“Ready to be interrogated?” Jenni smiles evilly, assessing the mess that I am.

“Yes and no,” I groan, pulling them both outside. Starting our trek home, I field questions from both my friends. Somewhere far behind us, a girl shrieks something about being lettered, and I thank the stars that someone else has drama besides me…

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 8:45am

The infuriating sound of my phone vibrating with a number of incoming texts jolts me awake. Who the fuck dares to wake me up before my alarm? I grab my phone from its resting position on my nearby nightstand and almost fall out of my bed in the process.

“I’ll kill him,” I mutter darkly as I read the name displayed across my screen. It radiates an offensive mix of terrible grammar and narcissism.  

Worldwide Handsome 3 New Messages

“This better be fucking good.” My fingers angrily swipe at the notification, opening the messages. I knew exactly who these messages were from. When did that bastard even get to my phone and add his contact information? How did he bypass my password? What kind of sorcery?

Worldwide Handsome 8:45am: “You up, beautiful?” 8:45am: “We’re picking you up in 20!!” 8:46am: “Wear something cute!!!! ;)”

(Y/N) 8:46am: “…Did you say WE???” 8:46am: Also, when and how the fuckity fuck did you get into my phone?” 8:47am: “ACTUALLY, NO – HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET MY ADDRESS?”

Worldwide Handsome 8:47am: “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

(Y/N) 8:48am: “You are NOT a magician, you dweeb.”

Worldwide Handsome 8:48am: “Abracadabra, bish.”

(Y/N) 8:49am: “I can’t stand you.”

Worldwide Handsome 8:50am: “15 minutes!!!”

(Y/N) 8:50am: “15 minutes until I strangle you with my bare hands!!!”

Worldwide Handsome 8:53am: “Strangle? Sounds kinky… I’m into it.” 8:55am: “I’m bringing you coffee. What kind do you want?”

(Y/N) 8:55am: “Did I say strangle? I meant *hug you tightly and shower you with praise*!!!” 8:56am: “The largest size possible, please! Black.” 8:56am: “I’ll pay you back.”

Worldwide Handsome 8:56am: “That’s more like it!!” 8:56am: “And don’t even think about it… Papa Seokjin provides all.” 8:57am: “See you in 10.”

Egad! I spring out of bed and get dressed at the speed of light, grabbing the nearest t-shirt and pair of jeans. Shoving my feet into my trusty work-boots, I stumble into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

‘Man, I look rough today’ is the first thought that pops into my brain as I look in the mirror; but I quickly correct that bad thought with: ‘Bitch, you look fine. Stop hating.’

Ever since I learned about cognitive restructuring in my Behavioral Psychology class, I have been attempting to practice it in my own life. The process of challenging my negative thoughts has been so fucking hard, but it’s definitely helped my self-esteem and stress.

Throwing my hair into a messy bun, I hear my phone buzz. Shit, that must be Seokjin. Who even knew why that fucker had decided to come along to volunteering with Namjoon and me. I wasn’t going to turn down an extra set of hands though… For volunteering purposes, of course.

Six subsequent buzzes demand my attention.

Worldwide Handsome 9:08am: “We’re here.” 9:09am: “Get your sweet ass out here.” 9:09am: “You better not have fallen back asleep…” 9:09am: “Don’t make me come in there!” 9:10am: “If you aren’t down here in 30 seconds, I’m drinking your coffee.” 9:10am: “(Y/N).” 9:10am: “THAT’S IT. SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR COFFEE.”

That last text has my ass in high gear as I book it down the steps and out the front door. Barely remembering to lock it behind me, I come to an abrupt halt as I come face to face with an all-too-put-together-for-9am Seokjin.

He leans against Namjoon’s infuriatingly gorgeous black Tesla looking like he’s about to shoot a cover for Men’s Health – Construction Edition. My eyes narrow in on the large coffee cup in his hand and narrow further when he slowly brings it up to his full lips.

“I wouldn’t do that,” I warn.

He sips it.

“You’ve just declared war,” I announce and stride over to him. Attempting to pull the coffee out of his palm and failing, I decide to take drastic measures.

Slowly rising to my toes, I act as if I’m going to kiss his cheek; but at the last second, I turn and bite his earlobe.

“What the fuck!” Seokjin yells way too loudly for the peaceful early morning. Victoriously, I grab my coffee, back away from him, and take a giant sip.

Yes, that sweet, sweet caffeine…

Seokjin rubs his ear and laughs slightly, “Babe, you’re really fucking scary before coffee.”

I nod in affirmation.

“Come on,” he gestures to his car and opens the passenger door for me, “Namjoon will have my ass on a platter if I take too much of your attention, and I know you’ll be heartbroken by the loss of such perfection.”

“You’re insufferable,” I reply, fighting a smile and losing.

“I know,” he grins and leans over the open car-door between us to kiss me. “Morning,” he murmurs in greeting against my lips.

I smile and kiss him again in reply. And then I remember my coffee.

Seokjin pouts at the loss of my lips as I take a cherished sip of the best part of my morning.

As I slide into the front seat, I hear him muttering about how he never should have bought that coffee. Grinning to myself, I buckle my seatbelt and look around the Tesla. Namjoon smiles at me from the driver’s seat, and I automatically swoon under the power of his dimples.

“Buckled?” he asks, as he adjusts the mirrors and flicks on the Bluetooth radio. The distinct sound of Kendrick Lamar fills the air. I nod and watch as he puts the car in drive, his muscles flexing.

His right hand extends across the console to rest on my left thigh and gives it a quick squeeze. I’m thoroughly distracted as I fixate on the hand that has now taken up residence on my leg.

“Hi, noona!” A chorus of two cries from the backseat. My body jolts.

“Ah! Stop, I could’ve dropped my coffee!” I steady my drink before turning to investigate the backseat that I had mistakenly (READ: tragically) thought would be empty. Taehyung and Jimin grin back at me from the seats beside Jin.

“Well, why didn’t you just bring everyone,” I drawl, raising an eyebrow at Namjoon, who just sighs in defeat.

“I mean… I kind of did,” he aims a glare through the rearview mirror, “I’m taking these losers, and Jungkook, Hobi and Yoongi are meeting us there. They refused to miss spending ‘quality time’ with you.”

“I’m going to kill someone,” I mutter under my breath, “Probably Taehyung.”

“At least wait until we exit the vehicle, please,” Namjoon chuckles, “I just got new seats.”

Habitat Worksite – 9:25am

When we finally arrive at the worksite, we step out of the car and head over to where Eddie is currently handing out tasks to different volunteers. I smile at a few familiar faces I see as we draw closer.

“(Y/n)-doll!” Eddie booms and walks over to greet us, “Came here with this one, did ya? And who are these boys?” He gestures towards my harem.

“Yes, sir,” Namjoon grins, quite unbothered by Eddie’s papa bear act, “A couple that carpools together stays together. Go green!”

I shake my head at his idiocy as Eddie splutters to come up with a response. “Don’t listen to him, Eddie. He’s full of shit. We are all just friends. Now, what can we help with today?”

“Yes,” Eddie clears his throat, shooting Namjoon dark look, “(y/n), I need you out front to help me orient a group of volunteers scheduled for one of those work retreat days…”

Fuck. The last group that I helped orient was a nightmare. They were supposedly here for a day of service and team-building, but all they did was fuck around and fuck up the siding. The men in the group refused to listen to my instructions on how to properly do things.

According to their mouthy ringleader, the fact that I had a pair of tits and a vagina made me incapable of knowing the tiniest bit of information about construction, whereas their dicks apparently came with an encyclopedia of knowledge on the subject.

I had almost decked him in the face, but I settled for placing a nice call to his place of employment later that day with an unsavory report on his behavior.

Eddie notices my glowering face and quickly looks away, “Namjoon, I need you to help out Matt and Paul inside to mix and pour some cement. The rest of you can follow me.”

The boys all give varying answers of agreement.

“Grab some gloves and glasses, you two. (Y/n), meet me back out front. Namjoon, Matt and Paul are already inside. They’ll show you the ropes.”

With that, Eddie beelines away from us before I can protest my assigned role. Seokjin, Jimin and Taehyung trail sadly behind him, shooting jealous glances over their shoulders at Namjoon.

Namjoon ignores them and eyes my homicidal expression. He cautiously asks, “What’s wrong?”

“The goddamn patriarchy is what’s wrong, Kim,” I grit out through my clenched teeth and stalk towards the supply trailer.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he trails after me, “My mom says that toxic masculinity always ruins the party.”

“God, I love her,” My mood elevates instantly, “Please marry me so I can be her daughter-in-law.”

He laughs, looking through the bin of gloves for a pair large enough for him while handing me a smaller pair. “Where’s my ring?”

“You already have like seven rings. Pull an Ariana and give some away,” I hand him a pair of protective glasses, keeping one for myself. “Anyway, please don’t forget that you’re my ride and leave without me.”

“Forget? Babe, you’ve taken up permanent residence in my mind since Tae pointed you out last semester.”

“Oh, stop,” I dismiss him, waving the pair of gloves in his direction.

He suddenly steps into me. The my small of my back hits the edge of the makeshift work desk latched to the trailer wall. “You know, I’ve noticed you really don’t take some of our compliments seriously…” He looms over me, lips pressed to my throat, “I guess I’m gonna have to change that.”

Namjoon scoops me off the floor by my waist and balances my ass on the edge of the desk. My arms circle his shoulders on instinct and his grip tightens on my hips. When he glances down at me, he lets out a rough breath which sounds like I’m torturing him.

He kisses me, his tongue playing with mine, twining around it, enticing mine to follow. Gravity tries to drag me down off the desk and our mouths separate. Namjoon hoists me up higher with a firm hand on the back of my thigh.

His mouth slams back over mine, and I swear the way he kisses can be felt all the way down to my bones. His wide palm curves around my waist, pulling me further into him. “Damn,“ he pants, resting his forehead on mine.

BANG. A knock sounds from outside the trailer, “You better not be up to no good in there, you two!” Eddie’s rumbling voice jolts us apart and my head snaps against the wall of the trailer.

A series of obscenities pours from my mouth as I grasp the back of my head. “You good?” Namjoon asks as he lifts me off the desk and back onto the floor.

“I’ll live… barely,” I lament.

He just shakes his head in amusement, “So dramatic, babe. Come on, let’s go do some service.”

Chapter Six

Habitat Worksite – 11:25am

The rest of the morning goes by pretty smoothly much to my surprise. The group that I help Eddie orient is from a pub in the neighboring town. They’re so much nicer than the last scarring group I had to deal with, and they’re actually listening to my directions.

I’m pretty sure I have tears in my eyes as I supervise them cutting plywood like professionals – but that could just be the sawdust.

When I become confident that no one is going to injure themselves with the power saw, I recruit some other volunteers to help me transfer the cut wood inside.

As we walk into the house, I almost drop the plywood onto my foot. Jungkook is shirtless, mixing cement together. When had he even arrived? I stare unabashedly at him – The height. The build. The broad shoulders. The veined forearms. The ridged stomach. The tattoos…

Tay, the middle-aged mother of two helping me, follows my line of vision, “Oh my… please tell me you’re hitting that, darling.”

“Tay!” I hiss, my eyes darting around to see if anyone heard her. Sure enough, Jungkook is looking at us and smirking like he was just crowned king of the fucking universe. “I am not hitting anything, thank you very much.”

She makes a derisive noise, “I might be old, but I’m not blind. He’s looking at you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread.”

Jungkook hands off his mixing duties to Matt and saunters over to us, “Hey, noona. You look nice today. Do you need any help?”

“Not hitting that, my ass,” Tay mutters and shoots me a triumphant look as she walks back outside.

I roll my eyes at her antics and turn to Jungkook, “Hi, Kookie. What happened to your shirt?”

Jungkook blushes, “I may have taken it off, and then it may have fallen into the cement.”

My eyes wander around the room until they fall on a sad lump of fabric and semi-dried cement in the corner. My lips twitch.

“Noona-a,” Jungkook whines, “Don’t laugh!”

My body doubles over, shaking with laughter. Tears stream down my face as I try in vain to catch my breath.

“Is she okay?” I vaguely hear Hobi ask before I feel his hand run soothing circles on my back, “(y/n), are you crying?”

I straighten, wiping my tears, “H-he… cemen-nt… sh-shirt…” My cackles resume.

“She’s lost it, hasn’t she?” Yoongi enters the house with eyebrows raised, “It was only a matter of time. Jungkook has that effect on people.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook punches Yoongi in the arm.

“Am I wrong, Hobi?” Yoongi turns to the other boy, who’s hand is still firmly on my back.

Hoseok shoots Yoongi a dirty look, “Don’t drag me into this. The last time I tried to argue with the two of you I almost got a concussion.”

Jungkook smirks, looking way too pleased to receive such an accusation, “I seem to recall you liking it, Hobi-hyung. What was it you were screaming?”

Yoongi snickers as he leans into Jungkook, effectively teaming up on poor Hobi, “I believe the phrase was ‘harder, oh my god, harder!’” He and Jungkook collapse onto each other in fits of laughter as Hoseok turns an amusing shade of magenta.

I turn to face Hobi. “Is that how you like it?” I murmur, tilting my head to stare up at him, “You like it hard? Rough?”

Hobi swallows as his pupils dilate. His hand on my lower back suddenly clenches, crumpling my shirt within his fist. “Yes,” his voice comes out deeper than I had ever heard it.

Vaguely, I notice the other two boys have stopped laughing. Good. No one would tease my sweet Hobi in front of me and get away with it.

My decision solidifies. “Well,” I say, “Then that’s how I’ll give it to you.”

“No one will be giving anything to anyone until we finish this project,” Namjoon’s voice booms, breaking up your little moment with Hoseok.

The four of you swing to face him, blinking owlishly.

Namjoon’s eyes are shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, “Jeon Jungkook, for the love of god, where is your shirt?”

An hour later, I found myself stuck in the backseat of Jungkook’s black Range Rover. After Hobi, Yoongi, and Jungkook had loudly voiced their opinion in front of the entire worksite that it was their turn to drive me, I had quickly jumped into the car to avoid further humiliation.

Now, I sat wedged in between Hobi and Yoongi who both refused to sit in the front next to Jungkook and also forbade me from doing so. I only agreed because I was not one to miss an opportunity to be pressed up between two hot guys. Sue me.

Glancing down at my thighs, I marvel at the way both of the boys have placed possessive hands on them. “This is so lame,” Jungkook complains for the hundredth time as he glances at the three of us in the rearview mirror. “I want to touch noona, too!”

We ignore him.

Yoongi’s slim fingers dig in slightly into the softness of my inner thigh, “(y/n),” his hushed words ghost over my neck, “Come home with us?”

“Please,” Hobi echoes from my other side. His hand is more brazen in its placement. His pinky just a fraction away from the apex of my thighs.

Perhaps I could close my legs like the proper lady my grandma wanted me to be… but fuck that. I would woman-spread however I damn well please. “Hmm,” I pretend to think about it, “No.”

“But why?” Hobi pouts, making puppy-dog eyes in my direction, “You said you were going to give it to me.”

I shrug, noncommittally, “I never said when.”

Jungkook sighs from the driver’s seat, “Ah, I love it when noona is evil.”

“We fucking know, Jungkook,” Yoongi groans, “You only bring it up a thousand times a day.”

“Hey!” Jungkook whirls around in his seat, “Stop exposing me, hyung!”

“Eyes on the damn road, JK!” Hobi grips the 'oh shit’ bar as the car begins to veer into the bike lane. Jungkook whips back around and quickly rights the car. Meanwhile, Yoongi smirks like the little shit starter he is.

“Looks like I’m not the only evil one here,” I roll my eyes, “You’re a menace, Min Yoongi.”

“Yes, I am,” the boy puffs up his chest and grins that gummy smile that he knows makes me melt, “But I’m your menace.”

“Ah, gross!”

“Ew!”

Jungkook and Hobi yell as I try not to smile at Yoongi’s rare display of cuteness and fail miserably.

“Stop trying to butter me up so that I’ll come home with you, Yoongs,” I smile and thread my fingers through his.

“Why?” He leans into me, “Is it working?”

“Not at all,” I breathe, eyes darting to his lips as his tongue slips out to wet them.

“Liar,” Yoongi moves in closer. My eyelids lower in anticipation.

Jungkook slams on the breaks and jolts the three of us forward, “We’re here!” Grumbling, I pull my seatbelt away from its death grip on my body.

“Well played, Jungkook, well played,” Yoongi comments from beside me.

“Tell that to my fucking neck,” Hobi moans as he massages the front of his neck where his seatbelt must have dug in.

“Aw,” I take pity on the poor boy and offer half-jokingly, “Want me to kiss it better?”

“YES!” Hobi’s hand flies off his neck at the speed of light and thrusts his neck out in my direction.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, he is adorable.

I place the lightest of kisses against the growing pink mark on his skin and revel in the shudder his body emits.

“Bye, Hobi,” I place one last kiss on him and slide out of the car, using the door that Yoongi vacated from.

“Bye, angel!” Hobi cries out after me, waving furiously. So damn adorable.

Once I exit the car fully, I am faced with a pouting Jungkook and an annoyed-looking Yoongi.

“What now?” I eye them warily.

Yoongi gives Jungkook a dark look, and the younger boy backs off slightly. Turning back to me, Yoongi steps forward. “Bye, (y/n),” he says lowly, brushing a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. A light dusting of pink floods his cheeks at his own soft actions. I bite the inside of my cheek to contain my innate reaction to shower him with affection.

That time would come later, I’m sure.

“Bye, Yoongi,” I press my mouth his cheek, “Keep your menacing ways to a minimum while I’m not around, would you?”

“No promises,” Yoongi drawls, before hopping back into the car.

And just like that I’m left with one tall bashful boy.

“Oh, Jungkook…” I walk towards where he is propped up against the front of his car. His lean body slouches against the hood as his left leg props itself up on front tire. He still has yet to put another shirt on.

“I’m sorry, noona,” he speaks to the pavement in the tiniest voice, “I got jealous that I wasn’t getting to be that close to you.”

I lift his chin up with my finger, “Baby, you were the only one who had my nipples in your mouth last night, and you’re jealous of them?”

He swallows hard before grinning, “Well, when you put it like that…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I give into the urge to trace the muscles of his stomach. They bunch up under my touch and I smile at his responsiveness. “You know,” I continue, “You’re going to have to get over this jealousy thing if I do decide to date you all.”

“I know, noona,” the pout returns, and this time it’s paired with a devastating pair of imploring doe eyes. “I just like you. A lot.”

"Well,” I smile, “It’s a good thing that I also happen to like you. A lot.”

“Really?” Jungkook’s neck snaps up at an alarming rate, “You do?���

“Yes, you giant idiot,” I grip the back of his neck, “Now, kiss me goodbye.”

He kisses me. His teeth pull at my bottom lip in a faint bite, and goosebumps spread across my body. I bite him harder in retaliation, but it only seems to urge him closer against me, body hard, warming me everywhere we connect. His fingertips drag down my skin until they reach my waist. His hands slide up under my shirt, and he rests his palms against my skin, fingers splayed down over my hips.

His hold is undeniably possessive. And that would not do.

I lean up and kiss him harder, digging my nails into his back as I tug him against me, feeling every inch of his body respond to my touch. A groan rumbles deep from within his chest.

“Do you think they’re going to come up for air soon?” An amused voice cuts through our make-out session.

Jungkook rips his mouth from mine, “Fuck off, Hobi.”

I open my eyes and blink a couple times before focusing on the smirking faces of Hobi and Yoongi. Their heads are sticking out of the open back window of the Range Rover as they cackle in amusement.

“Hobi,” I say sweetly, “Do you need another mark on your neck today?” My hand flexes tauntingly in his direction.

Hoseok’s eyes widen, “N-no! Bye again, (y/n)!” He retreats back into the car as Yoongi continues to chuckle before rolling up the window once more.

“You can mark my neck, (y/n)-noona.”  Jungkook’s voice jolts me from my second thoughts on not going home with them.

This boy really is shameless, I think to myself as I shake my head.

“Maybe next time, Kook,” I grin at him, “It’ll give you something to look forward to.”

“For as long as there are next times with you, noona, I will look forward to them.”

My heart swells. “You’re such a sweetheart, baby boy.” The nickname has its desired effect as Jungkook’s cheeks blush and his smile widens.

“I’m baby,” he nods.

“Yes, you dork, you are,” I place a swift peck to his cheek and head into my apartment before I get any more tempted to jump back in his car and initiate a foursome.

God, what were these boys doing to me?

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 4:15pm

A few hours later, I am deep in an argument with Luna over who the best Queer Eye guy is when my phone buzzes.

[Unsaved Number] 2 New Messages

Luna notices my confusion. “Who is it?” she asks, leaning over to look at my screen.

“No fucking clue,” I reply, swiping open the messages.

[Unsaved Number] 4:15pm: “Hey, babe! It’s me! Namjoon!” 4:15pm: “Want to meet at Hannigan’s tonight? Just the two of us!?”

“What the everliving fuck?” My eyebrows rise at the completely obvious way that someone was poorly attempting to impersonate Namjoon.

“That’s how Namjoon texts?” Luna sits back, “What a letdown.”

“I don’t think this is even Namjoon,” I mutter and save the contact before swiping over to SnapChat. “Let’s see if I have this person’s Snap.”

“Oh, your mind!” Luna exclaims, running to go grab a bag of pretzels from our tiny kitchen adjacent to our also tiny living room, “That is some top sleuthing right there.”

“Why thank you, my good sir,” I nod at her playfully before focusing back on my screen. Opening the 'Add Friends’ tab, my eyes immediately hone in on the imposter.

“Oh, that little shit,” I cry, chucking my phone onto the other end of the couch.

“What? Who is it?” Pretzel crumbs spew out of Luna’s mouth as she ambles over to where I had just thrown my phone. She picks it up, turns it over, and lets out a long whistle. “Oh, fuck. What are you going to do?”

Luna hands my phone back to me, and I reopen the messages to respond.

Me 4:21pm: “Hi, Namjoon. I’ll meet you there.” 4:21pm: “9pm.”

It’S mE! nAmJoOn! 4:22pm: “Yay! It’s a date!” 4:22pm: “See you at 9!!!”

“Well,” I lock my phone and set it down on the coffee table, “It looks I’ll finally get the chance to teach Kim Taehyung a lesson.”

Luna springs up from the couch, “I’m calling Jenni. Let’s do this.”

Hannigan’s - 9:09pm

I’m nervous with anticipation.

Why?

Oh, that’s right – motherfucking Kim Taehyung thought he could pull one over me by impersonating Namjoon, and, so far, he’s nowhere to be found.

I grasp my beer tightly as I slouch lower on my barstool. Since arriving about twenty minutes ago, I had set up camp in the corner of the bar. Luna and Jenni had immediately ditched me upon arrival, claiming that they were meeting friends.

I would have believed them if I hadn’t noticed that they just relocated to a table within vision of me and were scouring the room for any signs of Taehyung. I pull out my phone and once again debate texting him.

Fuck it. I’m just about to construct a text when my phone pings with messages from the group chat:

Bee Gang 9:10pm, Luna: “HE’S HERE” 9:10pm, Jenni: “HE LOOKS SOOOO GOOD KSKSKS” 9:11pm, Luna: “HOLY SHIT I THINK HE JUST SAW YOU” 9:11pm, Jenni: “TAEHYUNG IS LOOKING AT YOU LIKE YOU’RE THE HOTTEST THING HE’S EVER SEEN. HE’S GONNA FUCK YOUR SHIT UP I’D BET GOOD MONEY!!!” 9:11pm, Luna: “NAH DUDE *SHE* IS GONNA FUCK UP *HIS* SHIT” 9:12pm, Jenni: “OMG U RIGHT” 9:12pm, (y/n): “1) YOU BOTH SUCK AT HIDING, 2) NO ONE IS FUCKING ANYONE UP, 3) MAYBE THE SECOND THING IS A LIE”

I lock my phone and place it face down on the bar.

Looking up to see where Taehyung is, I immediately lock eyes on him. He’s slowly making his way towards me with people constantly pausing him to chat. Taehyung’s all smiles, but I can tell he is a bit annoyed. That strikes me as odd – I thought he loved the attention?

The boy emerges free from the crowd, and I finally get to take him in.

Damn, he does look so good. His tight white t-shirt emphasizes his toned stomach while his overlying black leather jacket makes his shoulders look a mile wide. My gaze drops lower and take in his black pants with a black belt cinching the waist. I have to fight the urge to grab it and use it to pull him into me.

He’s almost to me when he turns his gaze to the bartender and flicks up two fingers. And just like that two beers and an annoying but hot-as-sin man appear in front of me.

“You don’t look surprised to see me,” he says as his greeting, sliding me one of the new beers. He shoots a look at the group of boys occupying the stools next to me and they immediately make themselves scarce.

I arch an eyebrow, “You do realize I had all of your SnapChats to double check the number with, right?”

“God-fucking-damn,” Taehyung plops down in the barstool next to mine, “No wonder it was so easy to convince Joon to let me do this.” He shakes his head and glances up at me beneath his blue fringe, “You still came? Even though you knew it was me?”

I roll my eyes at his cute actions, “Yes, I figured you had something important to say if you went through all that to get me here.”

He blinks, clearly still caught off guard that I wasn’t surprised to see him. “I do,” His voice cracks and he flushes deliciously, “I mean, yes, I have something to say.”

“Okay,” I nod and sip from my beer, “So, tell me.”

His fingers fiddle with the label on his beer bottle as he begins, “I know I’m not your favorite person… I’m loud. I’m bratty. I know that. But I just have to know if you felt anything that night last semester; because, I did, and I can’t stop thinking about it. I know that you probably haven’t. It’s been killing me to see you with everyone else that I love, and I just need to know if there’s a chance you might want to be with me like that, too, and-”

I clamp a hand over his mouth. His eyes snap to mine.

“Baby,” I sigh, “Is this what’s been making you act out?”

Taehyung’s head bobs as he nods swiftly.

“Now, that just won’t do,” I murmur, my mind whirring as I think of all the times I had thought he wanted to annoy me when all he really wanted was my attention.

“Listen,” I continue, pulling my hand from his mouth, “I don’t know where you got those ideas stuck in your head from, but they’re wrong. I do think about that night last semester. All the fucking time, Tae. And, yes, you’re loud, and you have a tendency to be a brat… But, it only makes me more interested.”

Taehyung’s eyes burn into mine as I lean closer, “It only makes me want to teach you some discipline.”

I watch as Taehyung’s knuckles go white as he clenches his beer. Concerned that the glass might shatter in his grip and hurt him, I slowly place my hand over his, “Relax, baby.”

“You can’t just say things like that, noona!” Taehyung moans, shifting in his seat.

“And why not?” I tease as he takes a long sip of his beer with his head tilted back and his throat muscles moving in a way that made me want to do bad things.

I blink, “You know what? Forget it. Let’s just start over, okay?”

Taehyung bites his lip, “Okay, sure.” He gestures to the bartender for another round, “Let’s play a game.”

My response is automatic. “Alright, Jigsaw. What kind of game?”

“Just a nice harmless game of ‘Never Have I Ever’, (y/n). Nothing untoward, I promise.”

My eyes narrow at his way-too-innocent smile and his archaic use of ‘untoward’. “Fine,” I arch an eyebrow, “But I have a few stipulations.”

“I would be disappointed if you didn’t, noona,” he scoots his stool closer to me, “Lay ‘em on me.”

Oh, I will, my inner hoe responds.

Out loud, I reply, “The game can be stopped at any time, and you have to explain your answers if the other person asks.”

“Done,” he grins, “Never have I ever gotten my nipples pierced.”

“That’s targeting!” I exclaim indignantly, “You’ve seen them, you prick.”

“I haven’t tasted them. At least, not yet,” his eyes squint at my boobs which are currently well-covered by a jean jacket. “Jungkook has… That fucker,” he mumbles under his breath.

These boys and their jealousy… I shake my head. How had they managed to stay in a relationship with all of this possessiveness they clearly had going on? It’s truly a mystery.

“My turn,” I grin, “Never have I ever dyed my hair blue.”

“This is really more of a teal-ish green, noona!” Taehyung tries to argue, and I scoff.

“Fine,” he relents and mumbles under his breath, “Should have brought my paint swatches.” After taking a sip of his drink, he switches gears, “Never have I ever wanted to date a frat boy?”

I sip my drink. He immediately demands clarification. I grin, “Those EXO boys are fine.”

His jaw clenches. Ooh, he does not like that answer.

“EXO?” he snarls, “Over my dead body.”

My eyebrow quirks up, “Well, that’s a bit dramatic. They seem like nice boys.”

“Nice boys?” Taehyung cocks his head, “Noona, those aren’t your type.”

He’s right. I push him further, “And what is my type then, Tae?”

“Boys that challenge you.”

He’s right again, but I’d rather not give him the satisfaction of knowing it. His ego is already inflated enough. I smile inwardly and say, “You think you have me all figured out, Kim.”

Taehyung surprises me as he breaks into a loud laugh, “No, not even close. But I’m a persistent boy so maybe I’ll get there one day.”

Just then I realize how close to one another we’ve gotten. Our sides are touching, and his hand has apparently been gripping my thigh for who knows how long. I stare at it, examining the adorning rings on his pointer and index fingers.

Are those fucking Gucci?

He must notice my gaze on his hand because he squeezes my thigh, and I smily at him. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

Taehyung looks at me like I’m something precious, something divine. I want to shatter that image. I want to ruin it. I want to ruin him.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes, noona?”

“Kiss me.” And he does.

Taehyung kisses me over and over. I’m honestly a bit overwhelmed it. His mouth is tender on mine, and with every exhale, he lets out the slightest moan, which almost seems like a plea for more.

He’s gentler than I remember. His mouth is warm and soft; his caresses are leisurely and unhurried.

I pull back slightly to look him in his eyes. They are dazed, unfocused.

My lips brush his ear as I whisper, “Be a good boy and meet me in the bathroom in two minutes.”

With that, I saunter away towards the back bathroom which usually tends to be cleaner due to its slightly hidden nature.

Knocking on the door, I strain my ears for any sign of a reply. Nothing. I enter the dim room and immediately catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

My hair is everywhere, and I immediately grab the hair-tie around my wrist.

I pause, a sinful idea coming to mind.

A knock sounds. “Noona?” A deep voice calls, and I open the door, grab Tae by the collar, and tug him inside.

“Noona, you’re feisty tonight I-” I cut him off with my mouth.

I don’t hesitate as my mouth consumes his and my body presses him against the wall. My tongue finds his as my hips grind into him. He whimpers, and it’s such a beautiful sound.

After feeling him throb through his clothes, the thought I had earlier returns.

Stepping back, I grab my hair-tie and tug my hair up into a ponytail. Taehyung whines as I slowly sink to my knees before him, “Jesus, fuck.”

“Is this okay?” I question, gazing up at the beautiful boy above me, “Do you want my mouth, baby?”

“Shit, yeah,” Taehyung wraps my ponytail in his hand and lightly pulls me closer.

Does he think he’s suddenly in charge?

I flick open his belt before tugging his pants down. His cock strains against his silky black boxers and I give into the temptation to suck on it through the fabric.

“F-fuck, please, noona,” the stuttered curse comes from above, and I smile.

I pull his boxers down, grasping his cock and stroking lightly.

And, without warning, I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck. “Goddamn,” Tae hisses, fingers sliding into my hair. He pulls my hair-tie out and replaces its hold with his fist.

I take him as far as I can, blowing him and stroking the parts of his cock I can’t get to with my mouth.

“Shit, fuck, please,” he begs, looking down at me with wild eyes and a fucked out expression, “Don’t stop, (y/n).”

Stop? Never. The power trip is too delicious.

My mouth bobs on his cock as he bucks, trying to fuck my mouth. My hands grab his ass to control his movements as I slide my mouth off of him.

“Do you want to come in my mouth, baby?” I tilt my head to the side as one of my hands resumes its ministrations.

“Y-yes,” The boy gasps above me, his breath coming in pants, “Please, I’m so close, noona.”

“Hmm, are you going to be my good boy, Taehyung-ie?” My hand halts, and he whines, his hips straining to keep moving in my hand. I squeeze him, “Well?”

“Yes!” He moans, repeating, “I’m your good boy. I’m noona’s good boy.”

“That’s what I thought.” My mouth closes around his cock again and sucks him hard.

“Fuck.” I watch enraptured as Taehyung’s head falls back against the wall, and then he’s coming.

His body convulses above me as I swallow ever last bit of him. After he finishes, I pull my mouth away to kiss the underside of his cock, his balls, the insides of his thighs. Above me, he’s muttering my name like a prayer.

“You can let go of my hair now, Tae,” I laugh, my voice slightly hoarse. Reaching up, I lightly tug his hold from me and slide my discarded hair-tie off of his wrist. Standing, I pull my hair up into a messy bun and turn to face him.

He’s tugging his pants up and staring at me with a darkening expression, his nostrils flared. “Let me taste you, noona. Ride my face.” The tenor of his voice washes over me, tempting me with its rough words.

“You haven’t earned that yet.” I start towards the door, but Taehyung darts in front of it, effectively cutting me off.

“I just want to please you, babe. Come on,” his begging only solidifies my resolve.

“You already have pleased me, Tae,” I swipe a thumb across his cheek as he pouts.

“But I could please you even more with my mouth!”

This boy. I grab his neck lightly, “Listen, baby, I’m going to say this once. When I ride your face, you’ll be tied up across my bed at my mercy. Got it?”

His body becomes pliant under my words and my light grip. I gently shift him out of the way of the exit. “Now, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon, my good boy.”

The parting smile I send him is absolutely lethal, and it only grows bigger when I hear him blurt out a grumbled “holy fuck” as I strut away from him.

Chapter Seven

Quinn Library – 3:54pm

The end of September passes in a blur of studying, partying, volunteering, and spending time with friends. The month’s conclusion also includes the increasing presence of seven boys in my everyday routine.

Since giving Taehyung the suck of his life in the bathroom of Hannigan’s, I have been basically fighting off the seven of them for a moment to breathe. But, sometimes breathing is overrated when being smothered by affection.

Going from being single to essentially dating seven people is quite the adjustment. I found myself growing attached to them – something that both excited and scared the shit out of me. We haven’t discussed labels or anything, but I figure it’s only a matter of time. The boys have apparently been planning an elaborate first date for this upcoming weekend, and I feel like they’ll probably ask to make it official then.

My stomach erupts in butterflies at the thought, and I take a calming breath. No need to overthink such things.

While it might be unconventional by some societal standards, polyamory is simply a way to love. Why should love come with confines? With binary expectations? The saying ‘love is love’ gets thrown around a lot, but I believe it bears repeating.

Jenni and Luna have been nothing but supportive to me over the past two weeks. They even came with me to volunteer this past weekend because they - and I quote - wanted to ‘check out our vibe’. But, I wholeheartedly expect that the real reason had actually been for them to feel out the boys’ intentions.

Why did I suspect this? Well, because Jungkook had come up to me within the first fifteen minutes at the worksite quivering in fear over how ‘scary my friends were’ and how ‘Jenni had cornered him to interrogate him while Luna hovered behind her, menacingly holding a nail-gun’.

I had never felt more loved and supported by my friends.

My phone dings, and I quickly hasten to put it on silent, shooting an embarrassed and apologetic look around the library. It seems like most people have headphones in, and I let out a sigh of relief. No one wants to be that one loud person in the library.

Checking my notifications, I smile when I see it’s a SnapChat from Hobi in the group chat the boys created a few weeks ago. My thumb swipes it open, and I barely contain myself from announcing to the whole library how vibrantly handsome one of my potential boyfriends is.

I quickly send a SnapChat back of me and my stack of books in the library with the caption ‘send help in the form of coffee’.

Immediately, Taehyung sends a flurry of heart eyes emojis in the chat, Jungkook sends a ‘noona is so cute’, and Yoongi sends back a picture of a black screen with the caption ‘come nap with me’.

God, I would love to nap with Yoongi right now… Alone time with the older boy is so elusively precious. One day last week at their house, I had mentioned wanting to learn piano. Yoongi had just grabbed my hand and tugged me to his room. We had spent a couple hours together in the small corner of his room playing on his keyboard.

Well, he had been playing; I had been fumbling around like a buffoon - half uncoordinated in general and half flustered by how good Yoongi looked playing. His hands had been so nimble as they flew over the keys, crafting melodies I could only assume he had composed. His focus had been so fucking hot as he nodded slightly along to the tempo in his head, his eyes shooting over to look at me every once in a while.

My hand kink? Activated.

My willpower to not kiss the shit out of Yoongi? Nonexistent.

When Yoongi had paused in between songs, I may or may not have grabbed him by his shirt collar and kissed him. His blushing attempt to dodge me had been so cute; and when I had stopped trying to kiss him, he had pouted and then kissed me instead.

What a cutie…

A giggle draws my attention from my reminiscing. At first, I pay it no mind, taking it as a directive to dive back into my studies. But then, the whispering starts.

“I heard she’s fucking her way through the whole house.”

“Isn’t there a term for that?”

“Yeah, a frat rat.”

I slam my 500-page textbook closed and stand, leveling the duo of gossiping girls with a glare that could make grown men cry. It had before when I had to properly eviscerate my uncle in defense of feminism at our last family gathering. What a time that had been.

“Is there a problem?” I force the question through gritted teeth, stalking over towards their nearby table. I relish in the way they gape at me, eyes wide and pupils quivering, “I’m sorry. I’m afraid my complaint jar is at capacity. Please don’t try again later.”

The girl on the right gulps, “No-nope, there’s no problem! We were just leaving. Right, Janika?”

“No,” The girl who had called me a ‘frat rat’ just moments before crosses her arms and stands, “I do, like, have a problem.”

“Janika,” The other girl tugs on the sleeve of the one standing, “Don’t.”

“Yeah, Janika,” I smile, “Don’t.”

I can see the moment she snaps.

“You’re, like, such a fucking bitch! I don’t know what they all see in you. Oh wait, yes I do. You’re fucking easy.”

I consider myself to be a patient person, but having to endure this type of rant against my character - and against women’s sexual freedom in general - has pushed me well past my limits.

“Now, listen here, Janika,” I take another step forward, “You can keep talking your shit. I really don’t give a flying fuck what you think about me. But I really advise you to google ‘how to stop slut-shaming for dummies’ because it seems like you need a crash course.”

Janika’s face darkens, “Whatever. They’ll get tired of you anyway.”

“Yeah,” I let out an amused laugh, “I’m sure they’ll get real tired of me choking on their dicks every night.”

Letting out a gasp, Janika whirls back around to face her silent friend, “Let’s go. I don’t want to, like, be around her any longer.”

“Buh-bye now,”I wiggle my fingers in their direction as they shuffle out of the library.

Smiling in satisfaction, I head back towards my table. Without hesitation, I gather my books and belongings and head upstairs to the quiet floor. Any more distractions or confrontations would probably make my blood pressure pop off the charts.

The quiet floor, as one of my safe havens, is home to several small private study rooms. Peering into each, I start to lose hope that any would be available. Finally, the very last room proves me wrong, and I swing open the door and almost in tears over the sweet, sweet solitude.

This particular study room is tucked away in the very far corner of the library’s second floor. Not many people are aware of its location, and it seems that paid off for me today. Plopping my things down across the table in the center of the tiny room, I follow suit and drop down into one of the two chairs adjoining the table.

What a clusterfuck of an afternoon… This sadly isn’t the first time I’ve heard some comments being made about my association with the BTS boys, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. Yet, part of me knew all along that this would be the trade-off.

After all, what are a few irrelevant opinions to seven gorgeous and loyal partners? Inconsequential - in my opinion. That is the reason why I haven’t breathed a word of the backlash to anyone.

Sighing, I flip open my textbook to where I had been before being rudely interrupted.

The amygdala plays a key role in emotion and behavior…

“Noona?”

I jump a half-mile out of my chair, slapping a hand over my pounding heart. Jimin had somehow managed to enter the room without my knowledge. Had he fucking teleported?

Holding a giant iced coffee in one hand and a cinnamon bun in the other, Jimin beams at me and ignores the fact he just scared the living shit out of me. “Hi, noona! I saw your SnapChat while I was in class, and I came here as soon as I could.”

I stare dumbfounded at the angel before me. Jimin is slightly out of breath with reddened cheeks and a sweaty brow. His black track-pants are slung low on his hips, his long-sleeve white t-shirt clings to his torso, his black duffle bag thrown carelessly over one shoulder. He must have run over straight from dance class.

Standing abruptly, I stalk over to where Jimin is still posted up by the doorway to the study room. Toe to toe with him, I blurt out while still half in a daze, “You really brought me coffee and food?”

He eyes me warily like I might suddenly jump on him at any moment. Shifting his weight back and forth, Jimin hesitantly replies, “Um, yes?“

I take the coffee and cinnamon bun from his hands, place them on the table, and then tackle him with the biggest hug. "You absolute sweetheart!” I murmur into the crook of his neck, “This made my day. Thank you, Jimin-ie.”

His hands tentatively wrap around me, pulling me closer. “You’re welcome, noona. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Well, I really appreciate it, baby,” My lips brush over the crevice of his collarbone and relish in his shudder. Bringing my head up to face his, I smile widely at him, “Can I kiss you, Jimin-ie?”

“Yes,” He sighs out, eyes already closing in anticipation. I press my lips to his, still smiling softly against his mouth. His lips are plush under mine, velvety soft. My tongue swipes across his bottom lip and— Is that coffee I taste?

I pull back, “Jimin, did you sip my coffee on your way here?”

The boy looks rightfully alarmed, “I– y-yes. But only a little, noona!”

Cute.

“Hmm,” I trail my fingers down his chest, “I guess I’ll make an exception for you this time since you were the one to bring it for me.”

Jimin relaxes slightly, but his expression is strangely disappointed. I stare at him quizzically, and he blushes.

“What is it?” I lean against the table, facing him.

He clears his throat, staring intensely at the ground, “You can still punish me if you want, (y/n)-noona.”

My eyebrows shoot upwards at his offer, and then I let out a slight chuckle, “Oh, Jimin… That would be a favor to you, wouldn’t it? My baby boy wants to be punished, hm? Did dance practice make you all hot and bothered? Jungkook tells me that has been happening to you lately.”

Jimin’s face explodes in color as he mutters, “That little bitch will pay for this.”

Suddenly, the door swings open with a resounding thud, nearly clipping Jimin in the shoulder.

“Your savior has arrived!” Kim Seokjin announces loudly in spite of the studiously silent atmosphere of the quiet floor. His hands hold two steaming hot travel mugs, which I can only guess are filled with the elixir of the gods (aka coffee).

Seokjin’s eyes glance around the room as he takes in the fact that I’m not alone as he obviously had expected. “Wait, Jimin-ie? What are you doing here?” Jin’s eyes flick down to the coffee and cinnamon roll that lay on the table. “Goddamn it!”

“You were too slow, hyung,” Jimin smirks happily as he takes a seat in the chair I had previously vacated. He slouches smugly as he stares up at the fuming older boy.

“Too slow?!” Jin roars.

“Jin,” I chastise, circumventing around him to shut the door.

“Sorry, babe,” Seokjin says while still glaring daggers at the all-too-pleased Jimin. Suddenly, his expression changes into a sneaky look that makes me both want to run and jump his bones. “Well,” He waves the two coffee mugs around in the air, “I made these myself - with love. I didn’t buy that generic shit; I brewed it, baby.”

It’s Jimin’s turn again to look disgruntled, and I can’t help but laugh at their antics.

“Any and all coffee is appreciated and loved by me – the more the merrier. So, thank you both,” You say, taking one of the travel mugs from Seokjin. Kissing his cheek, you turn back to sit opposite Jimin at the table.

“She kissed me on the lips!” Jimin bursts.

“Park Jimin!” I cry as Jin splutters some sort of incoherent rant about fairness and equality.

Jimin holds eye contact with me, still leaning back in his chair like he’s the king of the fucking universe. But, he’s not; I am.

My chair hits the wall behind me with a bang as I stand, planting my hands on the table to loom over Jimin. “Do you think it’s fun to push your hyung, Jimin? Does it amuse you to be a little shit?”

I can see the moment that Jimin decides to be a brat. His eyes heat up in a challenge, and he firmly answers, “Yes, noona.”

“Get up.” The change in my tone is apparent. Jimin gulps. Getting to his feet, he stares back at me expectantly.

“Jin,” I address the older boy while still maintaining eye contact with Jimin, “What kind of punishment do you think I should give our Jimin here?”

Seokjin rounds my other side, grinning, “Well, (y/n) darling, I believe he should get spanked.”

“Interesting choice,” I murmur, turning to face Jin, “That’s what you’re going to get then.”

“What?” Jin squawks, arms waving rapidly around in the air, “But I didn’t do anything!”

“Nothing is what you should have done, Jin,” I push him against the wall, “You know better than to let Jimin rile you up like this.”

Those plump lips of his pout dramatically as he whines, “But, (y/n)…”

“But nothing,” I say and then whirl around to face the other boy. He’s still standing where I left him with his eyes glued to the pair of us. “Jimin,” I hold his gaze, “You’re going to watch. You’re not going to touch yourself, your hyung isn’t going to touch you, and I’m not going to touch you.”

His eyes widen comically, “No! That’s not fair!”

“Do you want to be gagged, too, baby boy?” I ask, cocking my head slightly. Seeing his emphatic head shakes, I grin. “That’s what I thought. Now, stay.”

Turning back to Jin, I smirk slightly as I ask, “Punishment now or later?”

Seokjin’s eyes scrunch cutely in confusion, “What?”

“You see,” I move closer to him, my body brushes his, “I think you earned a punishment, but I think you also earned helping me punish Jimin.”

A wide grin crosses Jin’s face as he glances back at the corner Jimin is stewing in. “I would be honored to help you punish him, babe.”

“That’s what I figured,” I smile briefly at him before slowly sliding my hands up his chest to rest on the nape of his neck. Holding them there, I press the lightest of kisses to the corner of his lips.

Jin’s breath hitches in his throat.

I run my tongue against the seam of his mouth, taking my time and savoring the sweet taste of him. His lips part to let me in, my tongue sliding across his. I grind against him as we kiss, moving my hips in such a way that makes him groan and lean back harder against the wall.

“What the fuck is going on in here?”

Ripping my mouth from Jin’s, I turn to face the newcomer.

Namjoon stands in the doorway holding yet another cup of coffee, his face thunderous. "What do the three of you think you’re doing? This is the goddamn library, you heathens!”

Seokjin jumps out of his skin in fright, pushing me away faster than I can anticipate. Stumbling back, I crash into Jimin – who apparently had ventured out of his assigned corner. Brat.

“The shades were open!” Namjoon continues to rant as he flicks the aforementioned item down to cover the door’s window, “Did you want people to see you?”

He reads the expression on my face correctly, “Oh, but you did, didn’t you, (y/n)?” Namjoon approaches where I’m still captured in Jimin’s embrace. Glaring down at me, he taunts, “So quick to stake your claim; but, make no mistake, they were mine first.”

Shaking out of Jimin’s hold, I straighten, raising my chin to meet Namjoon’s gaze full-on, “That’s interesting. I didn’t realize you were so lenient with your partners.”

Jimin makes a choking noise behind me. Jin stands behind Namjoon, waving a hand in front of his throat to clearly tell me to stop talking. I keep going, “Perhaps I need to teach you how to discipline.”

Namjoon flips me around, shoves Jimin out of the way, and bends me facedown across the table.

“Jin,” He says, his voice growly, “Stand in the hall and let me know if you can hear us.”

The sound of the door opening and closing alerts me that Jin followed Namjoon’s instructions without a word.

“Jimin,” He continues, “Hold (y/n)’s hands out in front of her.” Jimin ascquieces, staring apologetically down at me as he tugs my hands towards him.

“This is cute,” I say, “I always love holding Jimin-ie’s hands.”

Thwack. The stinging imprint of Namjoon’s palm on my ass burns deliciously. I arch my back, looking over my shoulder at him with a half-smile. “Do it harder, daddy.”

A breath sucks in between his lips as I utter the word I know will get him feeling as hot as me. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby girl,” Namjoon grits out, his jaw clenched tightly.

“Oh, daddy,” I say, “Don’t you remember? I’m the fucking Queen.”

“Was that a chess pun? Nice.” A muffled voice followed by a squeaky laugh sounds through the door.

“Seokjin,” Namjoon seethes, flying over to open the door and drag the older boy back inside, “I thought I told you to let me know if you could hear us.”

I tug out of Jimin’s gentle hold, straighten back up, and then situate myself into a sitting position on the table.

I watch amusedly as Jin shimmies his way out of Joon’s grasp, “Yah! It’s not my fault I get intense FOMO. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. Besides, I only heard you because I had my ear pressed to the door.”

Jimin stifles a giggle. I let out a full-on laugh. Namjoon mumbles what sounds like a plea to some higher power under his breath.

“See what I have to deal with?” Namjoon turns to me, shaking his head. “Are you sure you want to sign up for this?”

“That depends,” I swing my legs back and forth as I stay perched on the table, “Are you going to keep spanking me?”

The boy who had just unhesitatingly bent me over to punish me now blushes and rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, probably? You have quite a mouth on you, baby.”

Hopping off the table, I laugh, “Good answer. Ten points to Gryffindor.”

“Woo!” Jin cheers, “Nice job on the House Points, Joon-ie!”

“I am in love with idiots,” Jimin sighs.

Grabbing my phone from my backpack, I let out a slight yell as I read the time. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!” I scramble to shove all of my textbooks back into my bag.

“What is it, noona?” Jimin worries, appearing next to me. “Are you late for class?”

“No,” I cry, “It’s so much worse. I’m late for my weekly Animal Crossing discord chat! Heath is gonna kill me…”

“Heath?” Jin scowls, “Who is this Heath you speak of?”

“Chill, fam,” I shrug my backpack onto my shoulders and stare contemplatively down at the three different coffees. “You can’t get jealous every time I mention a new person. What’s next? You’re gonna come for Tom Nook?”

Namjoon - who must play Animal Crossing - stifles a laugh as Jin pouts. “She has a point, Jin.”

“And so does a pencil. Big whoop,” Jin scowls with his arms folded.

“Aw, Seokjin-ie,” I coo, reaching over to pinch his cheek, “Don’t be mad. You’ll get to spend all day with me on Saturday after volunteering! What are we doing, anyways?” I level Joon with my best side-eye as I ask that question, knowing he is more likely than not the mastermind behind our planned date.

“It’s going to be great, noona!” Jimin pipes up, hugging me from the side, “You’re going to love it…You’re going to love us.” He murmurs the last part, probably not meaning for me to hear; but, I do.

God, I do.

“We’ll pick you up before volunteering,” Joon says, “Just bring yourself and a change of clothes.”

“What?” I decide - fuck it - and attempt to grab all three coffees, “No overnight bag?”

Jin, who had just taken a sip of his own coffee, spews it everywhere. “Pack one,” He gasps out in between coughs.

Laughing, I walk to the door, which Jimin kindly opens for me. “Okay, I’ll think about it. Ah, I’m so late. Jimin and Jin, I’ll punish you at a later time. Joon, you can try to punish me at a later time.” Living for their astonished expressions, I wave as best I can with three coffees in hand, “Bye, babes! Text me-e-e.”

As I make my way out of the library, it hits me that I only have one more day to prepare for this date. Fucking hell…

Chapter Eight

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 8:38am

I wake to the sound of thunder and groan as my eyes strain to focus on the rain pouring down outside my window. Hastily, I grab for my phone and scroll through my notifications. Yup, my friend Brianna - the president of the Alphites - had emailed to say that Habitat is cancelled for the morning.

What did this mean for my date? Swiping over to the group chat, I quickly type a message to the boys.

Queen (y/n), Worldwide Handsome, and 6 Peasants

8:40am, (y/n): “Yo, dweebs. No volunteering today because of the rain. Looks like our date is cancelled, too…”

I laugh evilly as my phone consequentially blows up with a series of question marks and exclamations. Just as I’m about to put a stop to the madness I’d caused, my phone screen darkens with the telltale chimes of an incoming FaceTime.

Not even bothering to shift out of bed, I swipe to answer. “Hi, Hobi,” I grin at my sunshine who looks a little pouty this morning. The metaphorical rain cloud over his head lessens marginally at my smile.

The puffy, bare-faced boy sighs and runs a hand through his wild hair. Obviously, Hoseok had just woken up, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to wake up next to him.

“(Y/n)? Did you hear me?” Hobi chuckles, bringing my attention back to my phone. “You weren’t serious, right? Our date is still on? We have the whole thing planned! The rain doesn’t even affect it! And—”

“Is that (y/n)?” A cry of uproar sounds from the background on Hobi’s end of the line. A thundering of footsteps commences; and, suddenly, I am faced with seven slivers of faces all crowded together.

“(Y/n)!” Jungkook rips the phone from Hoseok’s grasp and takes off out of the room. The background blurs as he runs. Faintly, I can make out blurry figures giving chase behind him. “(Y/n)! Please still come over. We have everything set up! Saturdays are always full of noona, and I don’t want to break the tradition.”

Letting out a laugh at the fluffy haired boy, I smirk, “First of all, let me just say that I’m glad you don’t subscribe to the whole ‘SaTuRdAyS aRe FoR tHe BoYs’ toxicity. And second of all, you do realize you just gave away the date plans, right?”

“Jungkook!” The shout from what could only be an enraged Seokjin echoes across the connection.

I watch in amusement as the background once again blurs. As the feed refocuses, Jimin’s beaming face greets me, and I roll my eyes at the realization that Jungkook must have tossed him the phone. Probably playing a game of ‘Monkey in the Middle’ with their eldest brother, I assume.

Deciding enough is enough, I retake control of the situation with the tried and true method of the shock factor™. “Hey, I’m naked.”

Silence falls.

Then comes the seven pairs of eyes crowding the screen that I had hoped for.

Disappointed huffs resound from the collective as I cackle, trying my best to ignore their indignant cries.

“Noona’s not even naked!”

“Why, there’s not even a boob to be seen!”

“She’s got us lookin’ like boo-boo the fool, boys…SMH!”

“Jin, did you just say ‘SMH’?” The boy opens his mouth to respond, but I decide there’s no time to discuss acronyms right now. Shaking my own head swiftly, I clear my throat, “No, never mind. Now that I have your attention, I need someone to tell me what the plan is. Am I getting out of bed today? Are we still doing the thing?”

“You can get out of your bed and into mine,” Taehyung’s words barely escape his mouth before he is pushed out of frame by at least four of the others.

“Tae, are you trying to get your name added to my punishment list?” I smirk as two boys in particular gulp, “Jimin and Jin already have the distinct honor. Isn’t that right, boys?”

“You can add my name, noona!” Jungkook gasps out, lunging once again for control of the phone. He is shoved out of the way by Namjoon.

“Oh, my little Kookie,” I laugh, “That would practically be a reward for you.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your own punishment, (y/n),” Namjoon stares me down from the other end of the phone.

“I mean, you can try it,” I shrug, “But I’ll probably either like it or turn it around on you at some point. Just saying…”

“Sounds good to me,” Joon grins, his dimples popping out, “Now get your sweet ass over here so I can spank it.”

“Right now?” I double check the time, “It’s still not even nine fucking AM. What is this going to be? Some sort of all day extravaganza? Y’all better be feeding me.”

“Yah, do you know who I am?” Jin butts in from his small corner of the screen, ”You are in the presence of Worldwide Handsome Chef Extraordinaire Kim Seokjin! Of course you’re going to be well fed - both with my visuals and with food!”

“I have no words,” I say.

Jin forges on, “Speechless, eh? I’m used to it.”

“Could the two of you stop your gross flirting for one second so that we can actually convince (y/n) to come over?”

Yoongi’s scowl appears on screen as he takes control of the phone. Jin can be heard squawking indignantly in the background.

“Gross?” I raise an eyebrow, “That’s not what you were saying when you were teaching me piano.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Taehyung yelps.

“I think so,” Jimin answers darkly.

“Wait, what’s a ‘you feminism’ again?” Jungkook mumbles from somewhere in the room.

“Oh my god,” Namjoon moans, sounding completely done, “(y/n), I am begging you to hang up and call my phone so that I can actually let you in on the plan.”

“Bet,” I say, “I’ll call you in an hour. I’m going back to sleep.”

I hang up, abruptly cutting off their whiny protests. Boys can always wait. Extra sleep, however, must seized at every opportunity.

Sinking back into the bliss of my comfy bed, I smile as I flip my phone over and promptly fall back asleep.

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 11:57am

“(Y/n).”

“(Y/n)!”

“(Y/n), for the love of Jared Padalecki, get your ass up!”

Groaning, I wave Luna off with a limp arm, still half asleep. “Go away,” my garbled words prove to be futile as she pulls the covers right off of me.

“Your entourage is here,” Luna hisses, grabbing my ankle and attempting to tug me off the bed.

“My what?” I kick at her hold, “Stop going all horror movie on me!”

“You haven’t seen horror! Horror is waking up to the furious sound of fists pounding at the front door and thinking your dark past of downloading music off of sketchy websites has finally caught up with you! Horror is pulling open the door in just your Harry Potter onesie only to be faced with seven hot and all-too-put-together dudes!”

My brain slowly wraps its away around the meaning of her words. “Oh, fuck.” I launch out of bed, flailing around for my phone.

111 Messages

34 Missed Calls

14 Voicemails

“Good god,” I toss my phone back on my bed and stalk past Luna into the living room where my ‘entourage’ is gathered.

“Okay, what the fuck,” I cross my arms over my chest as I stare down at the seven boys spread out across our second-hand sectional.

“Noona, you’re here!” Jungkook springs up from his seat and tackles me in a hug.

“Where else would I be? I fucking live here,” I mumble into his chest, annoyance slipping away with each breath.

“I told you she just overslept,” Yoongi mutters from the couch, sounding very much like he was dragged here against his will.

“Finally,” I say, pulling away from Jungkook to beam down at Yoongi, “An intellectual. Now, what about the rest of you overreactive imbeciles? Did you just come over so that you could snoop around where I live?”

As I say this, my eyes narrow on Namjoon. The boy is inspecting the teacup I had forgotten to put away last night like it’s a new archaeological find. My words fluster him, and he fumbles with the cup before it falls from his grasp to shatter on the floor.

“I am so sorry!” Namjoon yelps. The rest of the boys look on with disappointment but not surprise.

“That was my great grandmother’s teacup,” I whisper, falling to my knees dramatically.

“Namjoon, your destructive nature has gone too far!” Seokjin yells, scrambling over to me. My face is buried in my hands as my shoulders shake. I can’t hold it any longer.

I burst out laughing. “Oh my god, it’s fine, Joon. I’m kidding. It was just a cup from Target’s clearance section.”

“So evil!” Namjoon whines, “I was so worried!” Shuffling over to the hallway closet, I pull out our dustpan and broom. Walking back, I hand it off to Namjoon before he can attempt to pick up a fragment of the shattered cup.

“Don’t even think about using your bare hands, Joon,” I narrow my eyes at him, “A trip to Urgent Care does not count as a date.”

“Noona,” Taehyung pipes up, “You should join the Acting Club! Did I mention I’m the president?”

“Oh, here we go,” Yoongi scowls, flicking his eyes over to where Seokjin is rapidly turning a concerning shade of red.

Mount Seokjin erupts, “You’re only president on a bullshit technicality! Fifth years can’t be on Exec boards, you swine!”

“Yo, Seokjin, I’m really bummed about that policy, and Imma let you finish. But, let me just say that if y’all don’t leave so I can get ready, I will avoid you for the rest of time.”

Seconds tick by. I frown, “I don’t see movement. Why don’t I see movement?”

“Well,” Jimin hedges, shrinking under my gaze, “We figured you could just come back with us? It would save you a trip?”

The disobedience in this crew would drive me off a cliff. “I guess I was not clear the first time. I am going to drive myself because: 1) I can leave on my own terms and 2) I can leave an overnight bag in the car just in case. Although, that possibility is slipping away by the millisecond.”

“Alright! Time to go!” Jungkook barks, herding the boys towards the door.

As they practically run out the door, Namjoon turns back to me with an arched brow, “No going back to sleep.”

I salute him, “Scout’s honor. I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, I’m finally left in peace and quiet.

“Want to explain what that was all about?!” Luna stalks out of her room, “I need the tea!”

A full hour and a half later, I find myself in an eerily empty frat house.

“Y’all really kicked everyone out, huh?” I comment as I peer around each corner of the house. There is not a soul - besides these seven fools - to be seen.

“I mean, there are only three other people that actually live here permanently,” Namjoon counters, ever the diplomatic president, “The rest of the rooms are mainly for guests or if a member needs temporary housing.”

Humming noncommittally, I come to an abrupt halt when the dining room comes into view. All the furniture has been pushed to one side to make room for eight easels and an excessive amount of paint.

“It looks like a Michael’s threw up in here,” I marvel.

“Who is Michael?” Jimin pops up next to me with narrowed eyes. The rest of the boys file in behind him.

“My sugar daddy,” I deadpan, “He’s an artist.”

Namjoon cracks up, while Jimin pouts adorably. “I guess you know what we’re going to do now, baby,” Namjoon says, still chuckling lightly.

“We’re doing DIY Painting with a Twist!” Taehyung yells, “The twist is that there’s no wine. Namjoon said it could get ‘too out of hand’ - whatever that means.”

“What is everyone going to paint?” Hobi asks the room after a brief pause, “I’m going to make something for (y/n)! It’s a surprise.”

“That’s so sweet, Hobi,” I smile at the boy, “Thank you!”

Not a group to be outdone, the boys quickly affirm that they too had been planning to make something for me all along.

Rolling my eyes, I sigh, “Careful, I’m going to get used to y’all spoiling me.”

“Good,” Namjoon nods, “You’re learning.”

“Yes, daddy,” I tease, “Are you going to keep spoiling your good girl?”

“You’re not a good girl,” Yoongi laughs, “You’re a fucking force of nature.”

“Thank you,” I wipe a nonexistent tear from under my eye, “This is why you are currently my favorite.”

“What!”

“Wait, you have a running favorite?”

“How can I get to be your favorite?”

Five minutes later, the room is empty aside from Jungkook and I. The rest of the boys dispersed the moment they decided to make painting a competition for my favor.

“Aren’t you going to hide away, too?” I address the younger boy next to me.

“Why would I go anywhere else when you’re right here?” Jungkook shuffles closer to me, “Besides, I wanted to use a different canvas.”

“Ah, I see,” I nod sagely before pulling my long-sleeved shirt up and over my head.

“Noona!” Jungkook chokes as he takes in my slightly sheer tank top and the black bra that peeks out from underneath, “I meant your wrist!”

“Calm down, Kook,” I laugh, “I can put it back on if you want. I just don’t want to get paint on it.”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously.

He then grabs my arm gently, flipping it over so that the inside of my wrist faces up. His thumb brushes over my erratic pulse and pauses. “Are you nervous, noona?” His wide eyes stare up at me, “You don’t have to let me paint on you.”

“It’s okay, Kookie,” I say, brushing his fallen hair out of his eyes,  “Paint me like one of your French girls.”

The boy’s cheeks bloom a bright red as he flashes me a small smile, “That’s one of my favorite movies.”

My heart swells as the cuteness that is Jeon Jungkook, and I can’t resist teasing him further. “Jungkook,” I whisper, leaning forward, “I would gladly share my door with you to keep you warm.”

“Noona,” He whines, trying to pretend like he wants to get away from me. I would rate his efforts a 1/10 considering his hand is still firmly wrapped around my wrist.

“The iceberg would melt because of how hot you are…” I keep going, arching closer to murmur in his ear, “Just like the Titanic, I would go down on you for hours.”

“Noona!” Jungkook yelps, “Stop playing with me!”

“Fine,” I pout, “But the offer stands.”

“You’re going to kill me…” He mumbles. Dipping his paintbrush into his nearby palette, Jungkook begins to etch the outline of what looks like some sort of flower onto my wrist. The strokes of the brush across my skin make me shiver - something that does not go unnoticed by Jungkook.

His eyes dart to mine, and I feel like crumbling under the weight of the adoration I find within them.

“Kookie,” I glance down, breaking the intensity before it consumed me whole, “What kind of flower is this?”

He mumbles something inaudible.

“What?” My ears strain to pick up the boy who for some reason decided to answer in the language of tiny.

“A tiger flower,” Jungkook turns away to grab a new brush, his hair failing to hide his flushed cheeks. I watch enraptured as he mixes the orange and white shades to get the end result he wants.

Returning to my wrist, he leans down and lightly blows across the drying paint.

“This is unfair,” I mumble as the boy continues to unknowingly seduce me. Or did he know? My eyes narrow as his gaze flicks to mine. Arching a brow, I decide to press him, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the matching tattoo on your forearm, right?”

“N-no,” Jungkook panics, eyes darting this way and that, “That would be Ludacris.”

Did he just— Not the time.

“Mhm,” I hum, ever the skeptic.

Jungkook swallows before once again resorting to tiny speak, “Okay, yes, it does. I’m asking you to love me, noona. Please.”

My breath escapes me in a whoosh as I stare dumbfounded at the pleading boy who once again starts to paint my wrist. Why is such a beautiful human lacking in adoration? Why does he need my affection when he has six other lovers?

“Why?” The question slips past my lips before I can catch it.

“Because,” He continues to paint, “I can see myself loving you for a very long time, and I just want to be loved back for just as long.”

The silence that falls after Jungkook’s admission feels safe and comfortable. His words swirl around my mind. And as he finishes the flower now adorning my wrist, I give him an answer I’m not even sure he had been waiting for. “Jungkook,” I wait until he meets my eyes, “I don’t think I’m in love with you yet. I’m not even sure I know what love is or what it feels like. But I can see myself falling for you. And I do know that there is a place in my heart labeled ‘Jeon Jungkook’, just like there are six other places for the rest of you… Y’all really do take up a lot of space.”

I let out a little laugh as Jungkook’s lips twitch in amusement. I continue, “It scares me sometimes. How I might fall for all of you and get heartbroken seven times over. But, I might also fall for all of you and get seven times the amount of love in return. And so I’m willing to fight for that chance. Besides, what’s life without a little risk?”

Jungkook is quiet for a moment, and then he whispers, “I really like you, (y/n)-noona.”

I lean closer to him. Our noses brush as I whisper back, “I really like you, too, Jungkookie.”

The smile I get in response is blinding, and I can’t resist pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m done!” Taehyung hurtles through the doorway, lugging a giant canvas that definitely had not been in the room earlier, “I call this masterpiece: ‘My Boo’.”

Gaping, I take in the massive canvas full of swirling colors and abstract shapes. It’s honestly overwhelming and a bit dramatic, but that is Taehyung. And I love it.

“It’s so pretty!” I coo, shuffling over to side-hug Tae.

He shyly hangs his head on my shoulder, “You really think so?”

“Yes, baby,” I nod, “Of course I do.”

One by one the other boys return to present me with their art. Seokjin presents a sea of rainbow colored hearts (“Get it? I see hearts when you’re around!”). Hobi shows off his technicolored sunset (“It’s how I feel when I look at you, (y/n)! Hopeful, but at peace.”). Jimin bashfully hands over a painting of two silhouettes dancing (“It’s us.” *blushes profusely*). Yoongi gives me a black canvas with a portion of lighter blue mixed in (“You make my world brighter.”). Finally, Namjoon shuffles over with a succulent plant in a painted flower pot (“I accidentally elbowed a hole through my canvas… This is my favorite plant, for you.”).

The boys also marvel over the flower that Jungkook painted on my wrist while the younger boy beams with pride. One of them mentions ordering pizza for dinner, and the room clears within seconds as the majority flees in search of a menu.

Namjoon is the last to remain, admiring the art etched on my skin. “You know what it means, right?” He murmurs, thumb tentatively brushing across the dried paint.

“He told me,” I nod, focused on the gentle caress of his fingers.

Namjoon lifts my hand to his mouth and places a light kiss. The motion takes me back to the memory of a few weeks ago where he first had performed the action. “I hope you know the sentiment extends to all of us as well.”

“Oh, does it?” I smile, “You might have to mark me to make it believable.”

“Consider it done,” Namjoon says before pulling me closer to him and placing his lips on my neck. What an opportunist, I muse as he bites down gently. His tongue flicks before his lips once again press down on my neck. Namjoon litters my neck with small kisses. I gasp as he suddenly returns to the initial spot and bites down slightly harder, sucking and licking at my neck afterwards.

“Joon,” I breathe out as he pulls back, looking all smug and proud of himself, “I will get you back for this.”

“I look forward to it, baby.” With that, Namjoon laces his fingers through my own and tugs me out of the room towards the ruckus being caused in the kitchen.

One hour later, the eight of us are piled on the massive living room sofa.

“I think I’m pregnant,” Seokjin moans, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “The father is Papa John.”

“I told you not to race to beat Kook to the last slice,” Hobi shakes his head, “No one ever listens in this house.”

“You get me, bro, you get me,” Namjoon extends his fist to Hoseok who fist bumps him.

I survey the room from where I’m perched on Taehyung and Jimin, one leg hitched over one of theirs. “I thought we were going to watch a movie?” I furrow my brows, “Or was that just a ploy to get me to stay longer?”

Jungkook scrambles to his feet, “I’ll go get Titanic!”

“No!”

“Please, god, no!”

“Noooo!”

The crestfallen expression that crosses Jungkook’s face tugs at my heartstrings. “Aw, Kook, I really inspired you with my words earlier, huh?” His pouting intensifies as he stalks back over to his end of the couch.

“Never let me watch what I want,” He mumbles. Sensing that this is an often fought battle, I shimmy off of Tae and Jimin and head over towards the youngest.

“How about this,” I reason, “Let the group decide what movie to watch, and I’ll sit with you during it.”

“Promise?” Large brown eyes peer up at me. At my nod, his expression brightens, and he pats his legs excitedly.

Settling down on his thighs, I realize I have made a grave miscalculation.

My thigh-riding kink + Jungkook’s muscular thighs = chaos

As the rest of the boys argue between watching Die Hard or The Hangover, I shift my hips slowly to try to get more comfortable. Jungkook’s swift inhale tells me that my move wasn’t as low-key as I had hoped.

“Noona, stop moving,” He mumbles into my hair, his arms firmly circling my waist.

“Sorry, baby,” I mutter back to him, trying hard to reign in my thirst.

The boys finally decide to watch Die Hard. Minutes tick by as the movie I’ve seen multiple times before plays on the screen. I’m only half paying attention, and I’m pretty sure Jungkook isn’t paying attention at all.

His fingers have shifted under my tank top and are drawing patterns onto the skin of my stomach. “So soft,” He marvels, his words ghosting across the skin of my neck.

The effect the boy has on me is deadly, and I retaliate with one of the only ways I can. I grind my hips slowly down onto his. The heat of his body warms my own, the hardness of his cock becoming more and more apparent underneath me.

“Noona,” Jungkook moans, “You’re so unfair.”

I whisper back, “You started it.”

He scoffs, moving my hair to one side of my neck, and pauses. “Oh, what’s this?”

“Don’t even think—”

His lips descend onto my neck, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Insolent child,” I breathe out, trying to keep my shit together despite finding it so fucking hot that Jungkook’s mouth is where Joon’s had been just over an hour ago.

Keeping my eyes firmly on the screen where John McClane is steadily taking down a whole crime organization singlehandedly, I try in vain not to imagine getting double teamed by Jungkook and Namjoon. By the time the credits roll, my panties are a mess. I can feel Jungkook practically throbbing underneath me from being so hard, and I’m pretty sure my nipples could cut through glass.

“What’d you think, (y/n)?” Hobi beams over at me from the other end of the couch.

I plaster a smile on my face like I hadn’t just been imagining the whole room naked and engaged in NSFW activities. “It was iconic as always!”

The boys seem to happily accept my answer. Well, most of them do. Yoongi is staring at me with a suspicious expression. Damn, that boy is too observant for his own good.

“Well,” I decide to try to regain some semblance of self-control, “Where did I put my keys?”

“WHAT!”

“You can’t leave! It’s only 9pm!”

“You said you would would stay overnight!”

I roll my eyes upwards, at least this provided Jungkook an opportunity to tug a pillow onto his lap. “I’m going to get my bag from the car, you fools.”

The boys let out a collectively sheepish “Ah”.

“I’ll walk you, noona,” Jimin stands, making his way over to my side.

“Trying to butter me up, baby?” I can’t help but ruffle his hair, “Okay, come on.”

Jimin and I make our way to the front door where my keys lie on the entryway table. Grabbing them, I head out into the darkness of the front yard with Jimin trailing after me.

“Will you sit with me for the next movie, noona?” Jimin asks, running a hand through his hair as we trek towards my parked Jeep.

“What’s in it for me?” I joke, unlocking the passenger side door and grabbing my bag. Turning back towards the house, I shut and lock my car behind me.

“Cuddles?” Jimin answers, eyes wide and bottom lip poked out.

“Stop that,” I moan, moving swiftly past him, “Puppy-Dog eyes? That’s so unfair!”

“Is it working?” He races to keep up with me, “I think its working.”

“You’re still on my shit list, Park Jimin,” I whirl around, drop my bag to the ground, and grab the front of his shirt. Moving to a standstill with his lips an inch from mine, I say, “Or did you forget?”

Jimin gulps, his eyes dark, “I didn’t forget. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

I place the lightest kiss to his lips, “Good answer.” With that, I pick my bag back up and waltz back into the house. “Are you coming?” I call at the boy still standing in the middle of the front yard.

“Now I know why Kook says you’re mean,” Jimin shakes his head at me as he regains the will to move.

“You’re a fast learner,” I comment, placing my keys back onto the entryway table. “I’ll sit with you.”

“Yay!” Jimin cheers, “I’ll go tell Taehyungie!”

“What?” I screech after the boy’s departing form, “I didn’t know this was some sort of package deal! Lord give me strength…”

Rifling through my bag to double check I have everything, I notice that I seem to be lacking a sleep shirt. How is it that I could pack three different pairs of socks for one night over but forget a fucking shirt?

“SOS,” I call out, zipping my bag back up. Once again, the sound of stampeding steps is heard before the seven of them appear above me.

“Someone needs to give me their biggest and comfiest t-shirt.”

A brief pause permeates the room before all seven boys dart into action. Left all alone in the entryway, I let out an incredulous laugh at how completely whipped I’m becoming for them.

After a few minutes, I hear them congregating in the hall just up the stairs. Just as I’m about to go investigate, they shuffle down. Namjoon presents me with a pile of what must be a selection of t-shirts from the bunch.

“We all want you to wear our clothes, so we decided to make it fair and just let you pick one without knowing who’s it is,” Seokjin explains.

Looking around the room, I can tell they all think this is a magnificent idea. Meanwhile, I’m baffled why they think I wouldn’t know who’s shirt is who’s just from the style, size, and smell. However, I decide to be a nice girl and play along.

“Okay,” I grab the entire pile along with my bag, “I’ll go change.”

“I’m so excited!” Taehyung bounces up and down, “She’s going to pick mine. I know it!”

“That’s because you gave her your Ce—” As Taehyung tackles Jimin to the floor, I take that as my cue to leave.

Speeding up the steps, I make a beeline for Yoongi’s room, entering and locking the door behind me. My bag is tossed on the bed first followed by the sea of mostly black and white clothing. They know me so well already.

I examine my options:

A white Balenciaga t-shirt with “Europe 2018” embroidered in red over the heart,

A soft pink hoodie by Marques’ Almeida with long black silky drawstrings,

A red and black striped Raf Simons long-sleeved shirt with sewn-on patches,

A Fear of God white t-shirt with the iconic “FG” on the front,

A black Mastermind t-shirt with the brandname and a skull and crossbones emblazoned on it,

A black Celine t-shirt also with the brandname on the front, and

A grey long-sleeved t-shirt by Carhartt with the name in blue along the sleeve.

Making my selection, I shake my head over the careless nature these boys handle their extremely expensive clothing. I am almost certain that Jungkook had given me the only shirt of the bunch that was under $100.

Regardless, I fold the rest of the shirts before stuffing them into my duffle bag. If they all want me to wear their clothes, I will - eventually. Quickly, I change into my sleep shorts, tug on what I assume is Hobi’s shirt, and head out of Yoongi’s room.

Opening the door, I blink as seven expectant faces shine back at me. Six expressions fall as one lights up even more. “You chose mine!” Hoseok cheers, running to engulf me in a hug that sweeps me off my feet, “Oh, you look so cute!”

“Can’t. Breathe.”

“Why’d you leave your stuff in Yoongi-hyung’s room, noona?” Taehyung pouts as the rest of the boys try to pretend like they also aren’t miffed.

“Because I’m going to sleep with him?” I march over to Yoongi and hug him from behind, pressing my lips to his cheek. “Is that okay with you, Yoongs?”

The boy grumbles under my show of affection, but his hands come up to clasp over mine as they circle his waist. “I can live with that, I guess.” The eye roll accompanying his words is so evident even when standing behind him.

“You’ll pay for that, baby boy,” I whisper in his ear before biting gently down on his earlobe, reveling in the cute little squeak that emits from him in response.

“She’s still sitting with me and Tae during the next movie, though!” Jimin - ever the instigator - interjects as the group makes their way back downstairs. Yoongi and I shuffle behind them.

The eight of us decide to watch The Hangover next since that had been the runner-up before. Once again, I’m draped between Jimin and Taehyung. This time, I’m fully placed on Jimin’s lap while my legs are sprawled out across Tae’s thighs.

My legs had barely even settled onto his lap before his hands were on them. This time I don’t even pretend like I’m paying attention to the movie. I’m more entranced by the way Taehyung kneads his way up my legs from my ankles to my calves to the insides of my thighs.

Meanwhile, Jimin is snuggled into me tightly. His face is shoved into the crook of my neck, and I honestly think he might be sound asleep. With each breath, Jimin’s pillowy lips brush my collarbone. I couldn’t tell if this is my own personal heaven or hell.

Looking up, I meet the dark gaze of Min Yoongi once again. Neither of us break eye contact as I try to read the look on his face and his body language.

He is either: 1) pissed off by something I did, 2) turned on by something I did, or 3) all of the above.

My hunch is the third. Testing that theory, I slide my tongue across my bottom lip. Sure enough, his eyes track the motion instantly before returning to mine. Bing-pot.

The movies seems to take way longer than it’s hour and forty-something minutes. I blame the combination of my sexual frustration and the varying degrees of awareness of it from the boys.

As soon as the credits roll, I extract myself from the holds that Jimin and Tae had on me. “I’m tired,” I lie.

“Aw,” Seokjin hurries over to me and sweeps me into a tight hug, “Get some beauty sleep, darling. Because, in the morning, I’m making pancakes!”

I place a swift kiss to his cheek, “Sounds perfect.”

I bid the rest of the boys goodnight with similar affections. Slowly, I make my way over to the stairs, knowing that Yoongi is trailing after me closely.

Making sure to put an extra swing in my hips, I climb up the staircase like I was getting paid to do it. Finally, I enter Yoongi’s room, turn to face the boy it belonged to, and tug him inside.

“What the fuck, Min Yoongi,” I hiss before closing the door behind him and shoving him against it.

“What?”

He has the audacity— I take a calming breath.

“You eye-fuck me throughout the entire movie and ask me ‘what’?” My hands curl into the fabric of his shirt.

A small smile makes its way across Yoongi’s face as my glower intensifies, “You can’t expect me not to think about that after you announce to everyone that you’re sleeping with me.”

“I didn’t mean literally, you buffoon,” I groan, turning away to head towards the bed.

Yoongi grabs my hips, halting me in place. “I know. But that didn’t stop me from thinking about what it would be like with you. What it would be like to be selfish with you.”

“You want to be selfish with me?” I ask softly, “What does that mean?”

“It means that I know that Tae was the first to get your mouth, but I want to be the first to give you mine.”

Yoongi’s words steal the breath from my lungs and the chill from my very soul. I gasp out, “You want to taste me, baby? That’s what you want?”

“More than anything,” Yoongi groans, pushing his hips into mine. “Please, (y/n), I’ll do anything to put my mouth on you.”

I pull away from Yoongi so that I can face him. His pupils are blown out, his hair is messy, and his expression is devastating with its pleading look. After being teased by so many of the others for the whole evening, he looks like my salvation.

“Okay,” I nod, lying down with my legs hanging off the edge of the bed. “Do your worst. No, not the time for that expression. Do your best. Please.”

Chuckling, Yoongi sinks to his knees before me, running his hands up my legs and resting on the hem of my shorts. He sends me an asking look, and I nod. His fingers shake slightly as he pulls off my shorts.

Left in nothing but pair of lacy red boy-briefs, I shiver in anticipation as I feel Yoongi slip a tentative finger underneath the remaining material.

“Fuck,” He groans, sliding his finger up and down my folds, “You’re so fucking wet, baby.”

“Well, do something about it,” I command, moving my hips up so that he might get the hint to take of my underwear. His finger slides out from underneath them and he doesn’t even hesitate before sucking it into his mouth.

“Yoongi,” I hiss, getting more and more impatient.

Yoongi pulls his finger out of his mouth, “Sorry, (y/n), I just want to savor this moment.”

“You can savor my pussy with your mouth,” I say, “Or are you all talk, Min Yo—”

Quicker than I can comprehend, Yoongi slides my panties to the side and licks a stripe up my folds. I moan as he sucks and licks at my pussy like a man possessed.

“Fuck,” I grab his hair and tug him closer, feeling him moan into me.

The build up of tension and frustration from being surrounded by these boys for the entire day has me on the brink of orgasm already.

Yoongi’s mouth closes over my clit, circling it with his tongue and flicking it slowly.

“More, Yoongi,” I demand.

He listens. Still worshipping my clit, Yoongi slips a finger inside me, curling it in such a practiced way I could scream.

He adds a second. Yoongi’s fingers thrust in and out of me as his tongue continues to taste and tease my pussy.

When he hits a certain spot in me, I moan his name, and I swear he growls. Repeatedly, his fingers hit that same spot inside me and I’m panting, trying my hardest not to come. Not yet.

“Harder!” I moan. Again, Yoongi follows like a good boy, his fingers and tongue picking up the pace.

Pausing to pull my legs over his shoulders, Yoongi meets my eyes. The pinkness of his lips glisten with my juices as he sighs, “I think you might be my new favorite meal.”

Before I can even respond, his resumes wrecking me. He fucks me with his fingers, grabbing at my ass with his free hand.

His mouth devours my pussy, wreaking havoc on my clit with every flick of his tongue.

My thighs quake as my battle to hold off coming becomes too much to endure. My back arches as the pleasure builds up with each quick stroke of his tongue and every movement of his fingers.

As if he knows exactly how to ruin me forever, Yoongi sucks on my clit harshly, and I come, my thighs trapping him between them. Despite it all, Yoongi continues to fuck me, lapping up everything like a starving man.

Soon, the overstimulation hits and I relax my thighs. Pulling his hair, I murmur, “Stop.”

Yoongi obeys.

“Come here,” I sit up, extending an arm out to him. He shuffles forward and when he is within reach I launch myself at him. Kissing him fiercely, I taste myself on his tongue.

“That was so good, baby,” I reach my hand up to stroke his flushed cheek. “Do you want me to help you out?”

“No,” Yoongi shakes his head, “I would rather eat you out again.”

“You’re insatiable!” I cry, tugging out of his hold. “We’ll see…”

TO BE CONTINUED...

[theycallmebeccawrites]

Chris & Ellie Series: Episode 16

With Tumblr holding my original writing blog @beccaheartschrisevans captive (aka flagged as explicit), I have made a secondary writing blog and may end up closing the other all together. In the meantime, I am reposting all of my stories on my new blog.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Ellie Spencer (OFC)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: language, suggestive

Episode Summary: This episode takes place in February 2014 and is Chris making good on his bet for the Super Bowl between the Seattle Seahawks and Denver Broncos.

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

This episode can also be read on AO3.

The Chris and Ellie series is primarily chronological.  It begins with a flash forward to 2016 and has a few other scenes in the future.  However, the majority of their story is told in chronological order starting in 2013 and going through 2017. Each episode starts with a date to help you place it within the story.

The Chris & Ellie Series Masterlist | Chris & Ellie Masterlist

Episode 15

Episode 16: Super Bowl XLVIII

February 2, 2014

The sun was already up and making its presence known around the edges of the curtains, when Ellie woke up. Not ready to get out of bed, she rolled over with the thought of trying to fall back asleep, but the idea left her when she saw that Chris was still in bed with her. He was lying on his back and had kicked away most of the covers during the night, leaving just the sheet covering the lower half of his body.

Ellie bit down on her lower lip as she fought the temptation to reach out and touch him. Looking back at the clock on her nightstand, she saw that it was already 9:30 and she knew they had a full day ahead of them, not to mention the fact that they'd been up late the night before. It was only the knowledge that her cousin would be there in an hour to pick her up for brunch and she still had to take a shower that forced Ellie from her bed and into the bathroom.

Last night, prior to them retiring to her bedroom for the night, she and Chris had worked with Scott to clean the big house for the Super Bowl party they were throwing. Not wanting a repeat of the football kick off party, Ellie had created a to do list on the way home from the bed and breakfast last weekend. Getting all of the cleaning done on Saturday, had been the first time on said list.

Unbeknownst to her, however, Chris had his own list and getting her out of the house was on the top of it. It hadn't been until last night that he had let her know that he had other plans for how Super Bowl Sunday would go. He'd lured her from the big house for a date night of pizza, beer and a movie in the guesthouse.

It wasn't until after the movie had ended that he had informed her that while he was putting the finishing touches on the party, she would be having brunch with her cousin. She'd hammered him with questions, after that, but he had refused to give her any more information. Not even after she'd given him a mind-blowing blow job. In the end, he had distracted her from the plans for Super Bowl Sunday by giving her a couple fantastic orgasms that had left her legs feeling like jelly and her body beautifully sore.

Even now, as she washed in the shower, she came across tender bits of flesh where he'd dug his fingers into her a little too hard while in the throes of passion. She didn't mind though, especially not after she'd played doctor when they'd gotten home last Sunday and had tended to all the scratches she'd left on his back from their various rounds of lovemaking.

Last night had been the first time they'd slept together since they'd left the bed and breakfast. Between work, hanging with Scott and everything else, there just hadn't been time for more than a few minutes here or other together and neither of them had wanted to rush anything so they'd waited.

Shutting the water off, Ellie squeezed as much water out of her hair as she could with her hands then reached out and grabbed her towel. She dried off and then used the towel to get more water out of her hair. Since she didn't have time to dry it completely, she opted for a side braid that made it easier to deal with.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, a few minutes later, Chris was gone, but he'd left a note sitting on the end of her bed.

Morning. We'll talk when you get up to the big house.

She quickly got dressed, opting for a pair of jeans and a nice shirt, knowing she'd change into her Seahawks shirt later. When she got to the kitchen in the big house, she found Scott and Chris eating donuts. Shaking her head, she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and opened it.

"Don't judge us," Scott said his mouth full of jelly donut. "We need the sugar to get everything done this morning."

"I know and I appreciate your hard work," Ellie said with a smile. "I'll make sure we don't take too long at brunch."

"Don't hurry yourselves," Chris replied. "I already told your cousin that you can't be back here until after one o'clock."

Ellie froze with the water bottle almost to her lips. Lowering it, she looked at Chris and said, "But it's my party."

"Yes, it's your party, but I'm the host," Chris argued. "You're the guest of honor. Which means, all you do is show up."

"But the food -"

"It's being catered."

"The decorations -"

"Scott showed me where you've been stashing your Seahawks decorations and we have plenty of help to put it up and it's not just Scott and myself doing the decorating."

"So what am I supposed to do after brunch?" Ellie asked him as the buzzer for the front gate went off.

"I'll go let Phoenix in," Scott offered as he got up and all but ran from the room.

"Knowing who you'll be with, maybe manicure and pedicure? Or shopping?" Chris suggested. "You have your credit card, you can use that."

"What will your accountant think of that?" Ellie asked. "It's not exactly a household expense."

"It's making good on a bet," Chris replied with a shrug. "And I trust you not to go too crazy."

"I still don't like this," Ellie told him as they heard Scott greet someone. "Why can't I -"

"Hi Izzy," Chris said, looking at something over Ellie's shoulder.

"Don't try and dis -" Ellie started, but spun around when she heard her sister say, "Hey Chris."

Upon seeing her sister, Ellie squealed and ran over to her. She wrapped her arms around Izzy and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I'll explain in the car," Izzy replied. "Come on, we're going to be late."

Speechless, Ellie took her purse that Chris held out to her and followed Izzy out to the car where Phoenix was waiting for them.

"Surprise!" Phoenix sang when they got in and closed the doors.

It was over brunch that Ellie learned that Izzy's boss had given her the day after the Super Bowl off after discovering that she was from the Northwest and had grown up a Seattle Seahawks fan. With football as popular as it was in Texas, her boss had made the offer in case she'd wanted to go home to watch the game with her family and friends. She'd taken him up on the offer, obviously, and had come to LA to be with Ellie upon discovering, from Scott, what Chris was planning.

Despite both her sister and cousin seemingly in on Chris's plan, Ellie couldn't get either of them to tell her what he else he had up his sleeves. Thankfully, they'd both kept her distracted after brunch; first, dragging her to a walk-in nail salon to get manicures and pedicures and then dragging her to an outlet mall to shop. They even managed to talk her into buying a couple nice dresses and new undies to wear under them.

By the time they got back to the house, it was nearly two o'clock and Izzy offered to take Ellie's stuff to the guest house as they got out of the car. Ellie accepted the offer and followed her sister in the house, freezing in the doorway when she saw that Chris had found more Seahawks and Super Bowl decorations than she had. He and Scott had hung decorations in the entry hall with arrows pointing towards the kitchen.

Following the signs, Ellie went into the kitchen and found the wives of Chris's former roommates hard at work on the food for the party. She vaguely recalled that one of the women owned a catering company, but couldn't remember which one it was. She greeted the women with a hello and got a chorus of greetings in returned.

"He's downstairs," Kady told her.

"Thanks," Ellie replied. She went down the basement stairs and smiled when she reached the bottom. Chris had gotten a little carried away with the decorations, covering nearly every open space on the walls with something Seattle Seahawks or their colors, but she loved it. He'd even gotten Daisy a pink Seahawks jersey and put her in it for the reveal. (Later, upon looking closer, she would spot a few hidden Patriots items in the room.)

"What do you think?" Chris asked, appearing at her side.

"I love it," Ellie replied, turning to look at him. "Thank you, Chris."

"You're welcome," he said, pulling her into a hug. Taking advantage of the fact that they were alone for a few seconds, he dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers.

Ellie leaned her body into his and fisted his shirt with her hands, losing herself in the kiss until they were rudely interrupted by their siblings.

"And welcome to my life," Scott said in an exaggerated stage whisper to Izzy.

"Shut up, they're cute," Izzy replied, winking at Ellie, who was blushing as she and Chris parted.

"Just wait, it gets old quickly," Scott told her as he pretended to gag.

Chris rolled his eyes and pointed to the stairs. "Go find something to do other than harassing us," he told his brother.

Scott saluted Chris with his middle finger and then raced up the stairs.

"The others will be here soon," Chris told Ellie. He nodded his head towards the stairs and added, "I'm going to go make sure Scott is helping and not sampling."

"I heard that," Scott yelled from upstairs, his words muffled in a way that suggested his mouth was full.

Chris rolled his eyes and went upstairs.

"You go get ready," Izzy told her sister as they heard the brothers picking on each other. "I'll go supervise."

It took Ellie less than twenty minutes to change into her favorite Seahawks shirt, pull her hair into a messy bun and cleanup after Daisy in the backyard. By the time she returned to the big house, Chris's friends had arrived as had Phoenix's husband, Kurt, and their one-year-old son, Isaiah.

Most of the guests had chosen to wear something in a Seahawks color, a nod to Ellie winning the bet that she and Chris had made on the first day of the season. Even Scott had changed into a bright green polo shirt.

Then Ellie spotted Chris, who was talking to one of his friends. He had changed, too, from a black shirt into a navy blue Patriots shirt. She made her way towards him and his friend saw her before Chris did. The friend muttered something to Chris before winking at Ellie and moving away.

"Nice shirt," she told Chris, sarcastically.

"It's got a 12 on it," Chris said with a shoulder shrug.

"Not the right kind of 12," Ellie replied, crossing her arms. "And definitely not the right team."

"There was nothing in our bet that required me to wear a Seahawks shirt," Chris reminded her with a big grin.

Ellie narrowed her eyes at him and let out of a huff. "We'll add it next time," she told him. "You'll look really good in Action Green."

Turning on her heel, she made her way over to baby Isaiah, who launched himself into her arms as soon as she was close enough.

With so many people, it didn't take them long to get the food downstairs and setup on the folding tables that Chris had rented for the day. Coolers were brought in from outside with ice cold beer and soda in them.

They all visited during the pre-show, quieting in respect as the national anthem was sung, and had mostly found their seats by the time the coin toss ceremony began. They all chuckled as the special guest, Joe Namath, flipped the coin early and the head referee snatched the coin out of the air so he could finish explaining the rules. A minute later, the real toss happened and Ellie pumped her first when the Seahawks won it.

As the Denver Broncos lined up for their first play, following the kick off, Ellie found herself practically shoved into Chris's lap as Scott wedged himself in between her and Izzy on the couch. She was in the process of righting herself when the ball was snapped. Almost immediately, the commentators announced it was a bad snap and the pro-Seahawks crowd roared. She got her eyes on the screen just in time to see a Denver player pounce on the ball in the end zone, giving the Seahawks a 2-point safety.

"And that's how you start the Super Bowl!" Ellie exclaimed as she shared high fives with those around her. She had to nudge Chris to get him to high five her, but he did so, happy to see her happy. Turning to Scott, she punched him in the shoulder and said, "I almost missed that because of you."

"And almost took out my family jewels," Chris added from over her shoulder.

"Sorry?" Scott offered, unapologetically, his eyes focused on the Doritos commercial that was playing.

When the game came back, they watched as the Broncos kicked the ball to the Seahawks. The Broncos defensive line managed to keep the Seahawks from scoring a touchdown on the drive that followed, but gave up a field goal making the score 5 to 0.

As the first quarter continued, Denver's offense stalemated against the Seahawks and their defense gave up a second field goal, making the score 8 to 0. With another chance to score, the Broncos offense came onto the field, but gave up an interception with less than a minute left in the quarter.

The second quarter started with the Seahawks getting a touchdown and extra point off the drive that had started with the interception the quarter before. Then they picked off another pass from Peyton Manning and scored a second touchdown and extra point, making the score 22 to 0.

"How ya doing?" Chris asked Ellie as the game went to yet another commercial. "Feeling light headed yet?"

"I feel amazing," she replied, dramatically resting her head on his shoulder. "My team is kicking ass."

When the game started up again, Denver nearly coughed up at ball on the kick off, but the officials ruled that the player was down, ending the play before he lost control of the ball. (Not that Ellie agreed with the call as she cursed under her breath.) Ultimately, the Broncos were unable to score on their last drive of the first half and the Seahawks took over and killed the final minutes on the clock.

While waiting for the halftime show to start, everyone got more food or took a turn in one of the bathrooms. As Bruno Mars and the Red Hot Chili Peppers performed, they all sang along and danced, some in their seats and others where they weren't blocking anyone's view of the TV.

The third quarter started off with a bang, literally, as the Seahawks' Percy Harvin caught the ball on the kick off from the Broncos and ran it 87 yards to score another touchdown. (A play that had Ellie leaping off the couch and nearly knocking over Chris's beer in the process.) A successful extra point attempt made the score 29 to 0, Seahawks.

A failed drive for each team followed that touchdown, but Seattle got the ball back off a fumble. They scored a touchdown and extra point, several plays later, making the score 36 to 0. Denver managed to score their own touchdown, a few minutes later, and got a two-point conversion, making the score 36 to 8.

"How ya doin, champ?" Chris asked with a grin as the third quarter ended. He'd seen Ellie get excited about football, but she was ecstatic and riding an emotional high with the way the game was unfolding. Even he had to admit that the Seahawks were playing amazing, but only to himself.

"They're going to do this," Ellie said, stating the obvious. "They're going to win this mother-"

"ELLIE!" Her cousin cut her off before she could finish the rest of the word.

"Oops," Ellie said with a giggle. Leaning closer to Chris, she whispered, "They're going to win this motherfucking game."

"Yes they are," Chris agreed with a laugh.

And so they did. Denver attempted an onside kick, but Seattle recovered the ball. They scored on that drive, making the game 43 to 8. What followed were several unsuccessful drives by both teams, a fumble recovery for the Seahawks and then the final whistle.

"WE WON!" Ellie shouted as the players and coaches celebrated their Super Bowl victory on the TV. She threw herself into Chris's arms, as he stood up, and kissed him, not caring that everyone could see them. Not that he seemed to care as he kissed her back.

"Again with the kissing?" Scott asked sarcastically. He was happy that Chris had found someone like Ellie, but he couldn't help but tease his brother a bit and he knew Ellie would just roll her eyes.

Ellie was still floating on cloud nine as they all worked together to put away leftovers, making sure that everyone took something home with them to munch on later. She got lots of 'congrats' hugs as everyone began to leave, including Izzy, who was catching a flight home that night.

"Have fun tonight," her sister whispered as they hugged goodbye. "Enjoy him, I mean, yourself."

"You're awful," Ellie said with a laugh as she poked her sister in the side. "But I will."

Eventually, it was just her, Chris and Scott left in the house. She and Chris were in the kitchen doing the last of the dishes when Scott came in with a bag.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," he announced. "I'm house sitting for a friend tonight. Thought I'd take Daisy with to keep me company?"

"Uh, sure," Ellie replied, glancing at her dog who was still rocking her Seahawks jersey. "If you're sure it's ok with your friend."

"It is," Scott assured her. "We'll be back in the morning." He grabbed Daisy's leash and opened his mouth to ask if she wanted to go on a drive, but shut it when the dog bounded towards him at the sound of her leash jangling. "I guess that's a yes from Daisy, too." He clipped the leash onto Daisy's collar.

"What about food?" Ellie asked. "And -"

"Already packed her stuff," Scott assured her. "See ya." He led Daisy out the door to the garage and Chris closed it behind them.

"Did you have something to do with that?" Ellie asked him as he turned back towards her.

"With my brother leaving? Yes. With him taking Daisy? No," Chris replied as he took the towel from Ellie's hands and tossed it onto the counter. "Let's let these air dry and go upstairs."

"What's upstairs?" she asked coyly as he pressed her back against the counter. She was reminded suddenly of a similar position she and Chris had found themselves in at the beginning of the season. At that time, he'd been picking a piece of fuzz out of her hair. This time, she knew, he was plotting how to get her out of her clothes and into his bed.

"Your private Super Bowl celebration awaits upstairs," Chris told her, his voice low and rough.

"Tell me more about this celebration," Ellie encouraged as she looked up at him.

"Well, there will be kissing, lots of kissing," Chris teased. "And a shower, but the actual shower kind, not the champagne kind -"

"Well that's disappointing," Ellie interrupted. "I've always wanted to be sprayed with champagne." Chris quirked an eyebrow at her words. "What? Haven't you?"

"I've had it done," he replied. "It's not as cool as it looks when you get it in your eyes. Or if someone takes a cork to the balls." Ellie snickered. "Ask Chucky about it next time you see him, we got a bit wild at Brock's bachelor party."

"Oh, I will," Ellie promised, making a mental note to ask. She loved hearing the stories that Chris and his friends shared, especially after they'd all had a drink or two and had loosened up a bit. They constantly tried to one up each other with their stories, which led to a lot of revelations.

"Now back to our private celebration," Chris said, taking back control of the situation. "I'm sorry to say your Seahawks shirt will not be allowed." Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "It's a clothing free party."

"I've never been to a clothing free party," Ellie confessed. She made to reach for the hem of her shirt, to get the party started, but paused and looked at the door. "Are you sure Scott is gone?"

"Let's move the party upstairs, just in case," Chris suggested. "You head up, I'll lock up the house."

Ellie nodded and headed upstairs to Chris's room. She considered taking her clothes off before he got there, but decided to wait and see what he had in mind.

When he arrived a couple minutes later, he was carrying a small cooler and a picnic basket.

"What's that for?" Ellie asked with a laugh.

"It's only 8:30 and I don't plan on us leaving this room until morning," he said as he set the cooler and picnic basket on the floor by his reading chair. "I've got everything we need to keep us going tonight. Food, water and gatorade."

"Well if I'm going to be stuck with you for at least the next twelve hours, at least you brought brownies," Ellie teased, after sneaking a peek into the basket to see what he'd brought up.

"Stuck, ha," Chris replied, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You can't wait to get with all of this." He gyrated his hips in a lewd fashion against her. "Shall we get this party started then?"

"I was waiting for you, party boy," Ellie told him in silky smooth voice. She placed her hand over his heart and then slid it down his torso to the hem of his shirt. "Why don't you go first?"

"No, no," he said, shaking his head. "My mom always taught me that gentlemen let ladies go first and I'm a gentleman."

Ellie rolled her eyes, but took a step back and pulled her Seahawks shirt off, tossing it onto the floor. "Your turn."

Chris grinned and pulled his shirt over his head before adding it to the pile. He pointed at Ellie's jeans and then made an 'out of here' gesture with his right hand before he crossed his arms over his chest.

Having taken her shoes and socks off earlier, Ellie smiled as she popped the button on her jeans and drew the zipper down. She added an extra sway to her hips as she shimmed her jeans down her body. She was bent to remove her jeans when she heard the unmistakable sound of jeans falling down. Looking up, she saw that Chris was standing with his jeans pooled at his feet and wearing a pair of bright green boxer briefs.

"So, do I look as good in Action Green as you thought I would?" he asked, his hands on his hips.

Finally free of her jeans, Ellie kicked them aside and nodded her head. It was true it wasn't exactly Action Green, but it was close and she knew he'd worn them just for this moment.

"Think I'll get some action?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Did the Seahawks just win the Super Bowl?" Ellie answered in the form of another question with an obvious answer of yes. "Maybe a bath first?"

"A bath?" Chris asked, his hands falling from his hips. "Why would we take a bath?"

"Because it's romantic?"

"A shower is faster. Not to mention part of the party plan."

Ellie rolled her eyes as she sighed. "I just washed my hair this morning, Chris. If we take a shower, I have to wear a shower cap."

"So?" he asked.

The 'so' was that her heavy duty shower cap was not attractive at all. She went into the bathroom and opened the drawer that Chris had designated for his mom and sisters bath stuff. He had given her permission, months ago, to use his soaking tub when he was gone and she had, several times. Because of that, she had put her own bath things in the drawer, including the 1970s patterned, heavy duty shower cap that she wore to keep her hair dry. It was one of the many she'd tried, over the years, that could hold all of her hair up without leaving angry red marks on her forehead.

"What in the hell is that?" Chris asked as she turned around with the hideous thing in her hands.

"My shower cap," Ellie replied with a small frown. She took a second to put it on and then looked up at him, expecting to find him looking at her with disgust, but there was a funny look on his face. "What?"

"Take off your bra and panties," he told her in a husky voice.

She eyed him as she reached behind her and unclasped her bra, rolling her shoulders forward so the straps would fall down. She pulled the fabric away from her body and dropped it onto the bathroom rug. Then she slipped her hands under the waistband of her panties and pulled them down, kicking them away. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her shoulders back and then looked up to meet Chris's eyes.

Chris sucked in an audible breath of air as he took in the voluptuous curves of her body bared before him: her full breasts, the softness of her narrow waist that flared out at her hips and her amazing ass that he could see if he looked into the mirror behind her. Two steps was all it took for him to reach her and he pulled her against him before planting a passionate kiss on her lips.

Rising to her tiptoes, Ellie weaved her hand into Chris's hair as she kissed him back, her embarrassment over her shower cap forgotten completely. Breathless, a moment later, she pulled away and lowered herself so she was standing flat footed again. "I thought we were going to take a shower first," she whispered.

"We are," Chris said, a little confused himself. It took every ounce of his willpower to step away from her and turn towards the shower. Even more to actually walk to the shower and turn it on. He was so focused on achieving the shower objective that he started to get into the shower, but was stopped when Ellie grabbed his arm.

"You're still wearing your boxers," she said with an amused giggle.

Blinking, Chris looked down and saw that, sure enough, he was still wearing his underwear. He smacked Ellie's bum lightly as she stepped into the shower still giggling over his moment. After shucking his boxer briefs, Chris joined her and enjoyed the squeal that escaped her mouth when he pressed her against the still cool tile wall. Then he made it up to her.

Once in the shower and then again in his bed.

Episode 16.5

Want to find me off tumblr? I’m @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

My tag list is always open, just let me know if you’d like to be added!

[psychnerd47]

Monster College Part 2

Rating: G, warnings none. 

Characters: Jackson Jekyll/ Holt Hyde, Invisi-Billy, Deuce Gorgon,  Frankie Stein, and Operetta

Invisi-Billy pulled out his phone, and started to call Abbey.

“Um, hey Abbey, it’s Billy.”

“Why are you calling so early in the morning?” the abominable snowwoman asked abruptly.

“Heath, has an 8:00 class, but he is still asleep, I was wondering if I should awaken him?”

  “You are not his mother, but if you think it’s a good idea?” Abbey added.

 The disappearing boy walked over to Heath’s bed and gave him a slight shove. But Invisi-Billy soon realized that really didn’t think this through, as all of a sudden Heath jolted awake with a head full of fire, triggering the sprinkler in their bedroom. Billy pushed his now soaked, blue-black hair out of his face, he didn’t have time to change he was now going to have to meet Scarah all soaked. Heath sat up, totally unfazed by the large amount of water in the room.

“Oh, look at the time,” Heath said as he jumped out of bed, “I need to get to class”.

 In the meanwhile Holt ran down the hall towards Jackson and Deuce’s room. “I just need to grab my swimsuit, Holt’s headed to the pool!” the blue skinned monster announced. But since subtlety was not one of Holt’s greater talents, as he crashed the door open he awoke Deuce. Deuce who was actually a morning monster, immediately knew what to do after he saw Holt’s presence.   “Hold it there dude,” Deuce called out, “Jackson, has to get to class.” The gorgon boy grabbed Jackson’s headphones and put them on the head of the blue-skinned monster. Instantly turning him back into, nerdy human boy Jackson.

Jackson started to freak out, “Why am I only in a towel? Where are my clothes? I need to get to class.”

 “It’s ok dude, Holt showed up, probably while you were showering.” Deuce said calmly, “I’ll go get your stuff for you and then you can go to class, might save you some embarrassment,” Deuce said in a supportive voice.

“Thanks,” said Jackson sheepishly.

    Invisi-Billy made finally made it to the dying-hall, to meet Scarah. The Banshee girl was sitting at a table waiting for her disappearing boyfriend. “Are you alright?” she asked when she saw how soaked Billy was.

 “Heath had an accident this morning, and he set off the fire sprinkler,” Billy explained.

 “You poor dear,” Scarah said. Since Scarah was telepathic Billy always had to tell the truth, even if it was embarrassing.

       After Jackson got his backpack and clothes back, he started to run to get to class. He didn’t have time to grab breakfast so he just grabbed a Zombie Energy drink, since he didn’t want to fall asleep in class. When Jackson made it to Coding 101 he spotted Ghoulia Yelps. She was a zombie, who also had a prefect GPA in high school and was even valedictorian for their class, so it was not surprising to see that she also bypassed Introduction to Coding. Jackson grabbed a seat next to her.

The coding teacher was a middle age cyborg who looked like he had been working with computers since they first came out. The class was going well until Mr. Cybernik decided to share his favorite music video about coding with the class. Jackson spent that time hiding under his desk with his hands over his ears. The coding class ended with Mr. Cybernik assigning a whole caskets worth of homework.

 Billy went to find his Monster Anatomy and Physiology class, he had written that it was in room 235 of the Stoker Building of Natural History and Science. The disappearing boy spotted room 235. When he walked in he spied some fellow students he recognized from high school: Jinafire Long, Skelita Calaveras, Rochelle Goyle, and Deuce’s mummy girlfriend Cleo de Nile. Invisi-Billy was so glad he would be in a class with people he knew. He found a seat next to Jinafire. “I didn’t realize you were all taking this class,” the invisible boy started, “but I’m greatful.”

The Chinese dragon girl just smiled awkwardly. A pompous looking gargoyle walked into the class room. She was large and wore an expensive looking pink dress. Billy was confused, she didn’t look like the teacher on the My Campus page for his class. He had been expecting a skinny, mad scientist with a long beard.

The gargoyle teacher had a list she was starting to call off for attendance, when she got to Billy she asked him who he was in a voice that sounded like she did not have time for any nonsense. “Um, Invisi-Billy Mann,” the disappearing boy answered.

 “You are not on my list, you are taking Introduction to Monstropolgy aren’t you?” the instructor asked.

 “No,” Billy answered, “I’m supposed to be taking Monster Anatomy and Physiology.”

The gargoyle instructor rolled her eyes, “You supposed to be in room 235 ‘B’, this is room 235 ‘A’”.

Billy blushed, and then started to turn invisible from the embarrassment. The rest of the class watched as what appeared to be a hoodie, jeans, beanie and back pack walked out of the classroom.

Invisi-Billy quietly sneaked into the correct classroom. Luckily for him the professor Dr. Choppenguts had not begun to call attendance yet. The dark-blue haired boy spied Lagoona Blue and Gil Webber, and grabbed a chair next to the beautiful Australian sea monster girl. “Crikey, Billy. You were almost late for class, that is not like you at all,” Lagoona said.

Insvisi-Billy blushed again, “ I accidently went to the wrong class room,”

Gil laughed, “It’s ok, Billy that could happen to anyone. Yesterday I showed up to the wrong dormroom and I thought I was going to have to be roommates with Kieron Valentine instead of Clawd,” the river monster laughed.

Billy smiled, “I would never want to be roommates with Valentine, with his extra Southern Accent, and he’s so uptight you would think his underwear is three sizes too small.”

“That’s really funny,” Gil whisper laughed, “but you know who won’t be laughing? Johnny Spirit. Operetta says that he and Valentine were assigned to be roommates.”

 Johnny Spirit was a Rockabilly Greaser ghost, who played the fiddle and was Operetta’s boyfriend. Operetta was the sassy, high octane Rockabilly daughter of the Phantom of the Opera’s daughter.

Billy laughed again, but then turned to face Doctor Choppenguts who started his lecture about how even though how all monsters are very different, their bodies all function very similarly. Billy started to mentally drift off, he doodled in his notebook, maybe he shouldn’t have followed Mr. Rotter’s advice about being a doctor and followed his dream of being a stage tech.

Frankie Stien, the beautiful and sweet daughter of Frankenstein’s monster and his bride, invited Jackson to an early lunch with her at the campus Ick-Fil-A. Jackson still felt a little awkward with his relationship with Frankie because she had previously broken up with him, when his going back and forth between Jekyll and Hyde had gotten out of control, but he still harbored a crush on her, even if she just saw him as her best friend. “I actually kinda miss having my mom around,” Jackson admitted to Frankie, “she kept me company and helped me to remember the silliest little things I always forget such as clean underwear,” Jackson sighed.

Frankie put her hand on his shoulder, “It will be ok, at least you get to be roommates with two of your best friends. I’m sorry you are feeling discouraged by the ‘Holt’ episode this morning, but don’t give up yet.” The stitched together girl encouraged.  Jackson didn’t say anything a quietly sipped his soda, but the quietness was not going to last.

A lilac-colored skinned girl, with a bright red Victory Roll hair style waltzed over to the two of them, it was Operetta Phantom. “Hey, y’all,” she called out with her smooth, charming Southern accent, “Johnny and I are hosting a big ‘ol  rockin’ shindig tonight, we got permission to use the student union hall, which is just a floor above this here dying hall. So be there or be square,” she laughed.

“That sounds amazing,” Frankie said in awe, “what is going to happen at the party?”

 “Well,” the Rockabilly phantom answered,“ Johnny and I are going to play rockin’ live music for us all to dance too. I’ve even gotten Deuce to help me cook up some of my family’s dang famous gumbo recipe,” she turned to Jackson who looked super uncomfortable about going to a party with hot music, “you are going to come right?”

Jackson grew even more awkward, he jumped to his feet clumsily, “I just remembered,” he started awkwardly, “I really have to go to the bathroom.” suddenly the human boy shot out of the room.

*                       *                                   *

 Jackson sat on the floor of a bathroom stall crying and hoping no one would notice him. Why did people have to keep inviting him to parties, didn’t they understand that he couldn’t come.

From his hiding place Jackson heard someone else walk in, “Hey Jackson dude,”

Jackson recognized the voice to belong to Deuce, “are you alright? Frankie sent me to check on you. She’s concerned.” The Gorgon boy explained, “you need to come out. I know you have been having some setbacks with Holt. But you can’t keep avoiding everything,” Deuce continued, “you really need to get out more often. Frankie and I will look after you, even if you turn to Holt, we won’t let you get out of control,” the snake-haired boy assured his friend.

“Ok,” Jackson answered quietly as he started to leave the bathroom, he hoped that Deuce wouldn’t notice he had been crying.

 Meanwhile, Invisi-Billy sat alone in the dying hall with a very pathetic piece of cafeteria pizza, as he sat in his misery, a certain red-haired Rockabilly phantom waltzed up to him. “Why so glum sugar-plum? I bet ya haven’t heard about my party?”

Tags @queenofworry

[sikhyes]

bitchcraft ━ yeri

a/n: i’ve been wanting to write this for so long (esp since i feel really proud of the title lmao) but i hope you guys enjoy!! genre: supernatural!au , witch!au , college!au , fluff pairing: yeri x reader (red velvet) word count: 2,023 summary: they said that every pizza boy that walks in never comes out. that’s why they sent you, a pizza girl. warnings: none

bitchcraft (n.) - a specialty of witchcraft only perfected and practiced by a supreme ‘bitch’

It was particularly rare finding a decently priced house only a few blocks away from campus (not counting the glorified suburban homes that housed the frats and sororities) so you knew that there had to be a catch to the entire ordeal. Whether it be a creepy landlord or inescapably loud parties, you and your friends braced yourself for the worst once all of you had signed the lease.

However, one month in and the only weird thing about the entire block had to be the eerily decorated house across the street. It was the biggest one compared to the rows of the picket-fences, two tall trees bordering the left and right corner of the front yard with three sets of stairs leading up to the mahogany double doors. While the rest of the houses were painted a fresh spring color, the house across was a dark shadow amongst its sisters on the block. With only grey tiles that covered the roof, everything else was accented with darker wood and ledger stone tiles as pillars that held up the porch.

No one really spoke much about it at first. Your next door neighbors situated on the right was a sweet couple, living the longest on the block compared to the rest of the street. When you and the other three people living with you now (Chaeyoung, Taehyung, and Jimin) went to drop off french macarons (instead of the usual rice cakes) out of courtesy, mostly everyone gave silent warnings to not approach the dark house. It wasn’t until Taehyung’s curiosity got the best of him and finally asked the other college students that inhabited the apartment complex a couple houses down yours.

“Is it like a ‘Boo Radley’ situation?” Jimin asked as he handed the delicately wrapped boxes over to the guy named Hoseok.

Namjoon, the taller one, shook his head as Hoseok retreated in their home to set the gift aside. “No, not necessarily. At least, the rumors haven’t reached to murder yet.” At the sight of yours and Chaeyoung’s expression, the boy quickly hurried on to explain. “The most popular one is that anyone that enters that house never comes out.”

Taehyung’s laugh bellowed, carefree as he flicked a few loose strands of his bangs aside. “I call bullshit. This is LA, dude, not some shitty town in the middle of nowhere.”

“It’s your choice to believe it or not,” Hoseok shrugged. “But there’s one piece of evidence that can actually support that rumor.”

“What is it?” You found yourself asking.

“Any pizza boy that comes by that house goes missing.”

“So there’s five of them?”

You didn’t bother rolling your eyes - the world seemed to spin with how often you’ve done it in the past ten minutes - and kept your attention on your notes. With your frame curled up on the left side of the couch and Chaeyoung’s slender legs stretched out on the rest of the piece of furniture, Taehyung occupied the armchair closest to you with his gangly stature sprawled all over it. His head dangled off the edge of the armrest, his hair comically standing on end as though he was electrocuted, as he tossed a baseball only to catch with precision a few seconds later.

“Yes. There’s five,” Chaeyoung answered kindly, her voice never betraying the hidden frustration that was growing beneath her expression. That had to be the tenth time Taehyung had asked to reiterate what Namjoon told them only moments prior. “And before you ask, we don’t know their names. All we know is that they attend our university, appears to be filthy rich, and likes to order pizza.”

“Which is how they lure in their prey,” Jimin cut in as he padded from the bathroom with only a loose towel tied haphazardly around his lean waist. The sight of the shirtless male would’ve made you blush but you’ve lived with him (as well as the other two) too long to feel any surprise at any state of his undress. “They’re like black widows, hot and dangerous.”

You couldn’t bite back the snort that escaped you. “How do you know they’re hot?”

“I just do. It’s a vibe thing.”

At this point, you were sure that your eyes would’ve fallen out with how much you’ve rolled them.

Two months in and still no sign of the mysterious five that lived in the house across the street. Every morning, you stuck to a serious and sharp routine that you followed religiously. Wake up at 6:30 AM, jog a couple laps around the street, return back by 7:00 AM to start on breakfast with Jimin and be ready by your first class (regardless if it was a nine am class or a two pm class). With how often you’re actually out and about, you were positive that you’d have at least bumped into them once.

But you were just as unsuccessful (you were ashamed to admit that you even took an extra lap one morning in hopes of catching a glimpse of any one of them) as the rest of your housemates, despite being placated that you weren’t the only one obsessed with finding more about your secretive neighbors.

“Y/N?” Chaeyoung came bounding into your shared room, her orange hair askew beneath a large tacky trucker’s cap that advertised ‘Pizza Palace’ in a fading red font across the yellowing white fabric. You tore your attention away from the bright screen of your laptop, a little disoriented from writing an essay, and took in your roommate’s appearance in completely. With her cheeks flushed and her chest rising and dropping in unsteady intervals, you immediately jumped off the bed and led her to her own.

“Hey, you alright? What happened?” Your mind instantly jumped to the worst-case scenarios, kickstarting your anxious heart as you waited for Chaeyoung to fill you in.

“I’m fine,” she wheezed, trying her best to catch her breathe as she removed her cap to place on your head. “I need you to do me a favor. Can you fill in the rest of my hours for tonight at the pizza place a few streets away? I got an email from my TA reminding me of my paper that’s due tonight, which I completely forgot about so I-”

“Hold on, slow down, Chae… slow down. Don’t tell me you just ditched your shift! Did you tell your boss at least?”

“I did, but I need you to cover for me.”

You scooted backwards to shoot her the most incredulous look. “Chae, I don’t even work there! How am I supposed to cover your shift?”

“You’re not making any pizza,” she hurriedly answered. “Just deliveries! Please, please, please!”

No matter how long you’ve lived with Chaeyoung, you just didn’t seem to have the kind of immunity against her pitiful expressions you thought you might’ve acquired by now. “Oh, fine. Give me the stupid hat.”

It must’ve been a regular occurrence for random strangers in employee gear to show up at the pizza parlor because Chaeyoung’s supervisor didn’t bat an eye when you arrived behind the counter in her uniform. Your own hair was pulled into a messy knot at the nape of your neck, loose strands of hair framing your face as you pushed up the large cap up to properly keep eye contact.

“Here are the orders, here are the addresses, and here’s the keys to the pizza car. Not a scratch,” she ordered firmly before sending you on your way. Once you found the designated vehicle, you scoffed as you remembered her last piece of instruction.

A scratch would’ve actually been an improvement with how shitty the car’s state was.

The first few addresses were simple enough; the entire area was mostly separate houses rather than confusing apartment complexes, making your temporary job much more easier. The list of orders began to decrease and the monstrous amount of boxes in the backseat disappeared one by one with each stop. Reaching the end of the list, your heart nearly dropped to your chest once you recognized the address.

It was the house across the street.

“When’s the pizza coming?” Yeri’s whining echoed throughout the spacious house as she lounged on one of the chaises in the sitting room, a picture of relaxation as she fiddled with a pistol crossbow. Irene wrinkled her nose at the mess she caused when she passed by. Stray arrows scattered the area around the youngest as grease-stained rags laid upon her mahogany tables where the tools were placed on.

“Soon.” It was Wendy who answered from her position by the window seat at the east side of the house once she noticed the displeased look on the eldest’s features. It’s been a couple months since their last ‘order’ and whenever Irene hasn’t had her appetite filled, she became cranky enough that Seulgi and Joy would retreat to their room until her ‘hangry’ phase subsides. “Be patient. It should be here any moment.”

Although they barely entertained any guests, the five women were dressed in their finest. It was a bland Thursday evening but with the high-end cocktail dresses that adorned their ideal figures, you’d think they’d be off to attend some VVIP, private gala in the city. Irene was dressed in a sequined long sleeve dress with bloody red heels. Yeri kept things simple with a crochet dress and flats while Seulgi chose a lace blouse and leather pants. Joy loved her little black dresses that accentuated her curves. Wendy opted for a vintage velvet blouse and leather skirt.

Despite their oddly fancy attire, it blended well with the artistic pieces carefully placed around their home. Irene had picked up art curating as a new hobby, a way to pass the time as they juggled their unorthodox lives.

Right when Seulgi finally slid down the tall flight of stairs by the banister, the doorbell chimed around their house. “Dinner time,” she hummed as a devilish grin crossed her scarlet lips. She stepped aside and retreated to the living room with Joy at her tail when Yeri bounded up to open the door with a grotesque teddy bear tucked in the crook of her arm. As her hand reached for the doorknob, an adorable expression settled upon her visage as she prepared herself to come face to face with another pizza boy.

The door swung open and her practiced smile was what greeted you… only for it to fall in surprise only seconds later when Yeri realized you weren’t a pizza boy.

“For… Yeri?” You read the post-it note on the top of the box as you stretched your arms out to hand the pizza over. “That’ll be fifteen-”

“Excuse me,” the pretty girl cut you off before she slammed the door in your face.

“Wait… repeat that again. They just took the pizza and paid you…?”

Your swung your legs as you sat on the counter, munching on a leftover pizza as you nodded. The closing crew had asked you to retell the story for the tenth time now but you didn’t really mind repeating it, not when you had a slice of pizza in your hand. Although it was a good half hour since you’ve finished the rest of Chae’s shift, you’ve befriended her coworkers when they realized you made a stop at Hell House (a funny little nickname they dubbed the creepy place). While you sat on the counter, the four others had grabbed chairs to circle around you with their own late dinners in hand.

“Yeah, they seemed a little confused but that’s it,” you answered patiently, nibbling at the crust as the youngest coworker tentatively raised his hand.

“Really?” Mark asked, dropping his hand with a little bashful chuckle. “That’s it?”

You nodded and they all finally dispersed, somewhat content with the first witness story of the odd happenings in hell house. “Really. That’s it.

Yes, that was it… and the slip of paper that held the pretty girl’s number in your pocket.

[sittingoverheredreaming]

Part three of HaruMichi BatB! See the masterpost for previous installments. And as always, comments are the best! 

The sun was Haruka’s only hint at the time. The room she’d been given had two small windows, facing south, just large enough to stick her head out of. They bore heavy red velvet curtains that cast her into eternal night when closed. Open, though… she managed to pin one side to the wall with an understuffed armchair that had been in the corner.

It was morning, now. The sunlight glittered on the dew-wet tree tops. Haruka tried to see her truck through the leaves, but she could not even find the road. It wouldn’t matter if she could find her way to it, though. There was nothing but trees as far as she could see, and without gas she did not trust she’d make it back to civilization.

“It’s a bit too small if you’re trying to escape.”

Haruka jumped, banging her head on the top of the window. She bit her lip to keep from swearing. Behind her was… at first she saw nothing, but then it moved. A little ripple in the light, the faintest shadow of a human form… two human forms. The ghosts the mon- the ghosts Michiru had mentioned.

“Oh dear!” the shorter one said, scurrying to Haruka’s side, arms posed like she held up voluminous unseen skirts. “We didn’t mean to startle you! Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just a little bump.”

The little ghost stretched to reach Haruka’s head. Her fingers ruffled through her hair like a winter breeze. Haruka shivered, but the pain receded.

“I’m Usagi.” The ghost dipped into something like a curtsy. “And this is Makoto. Do you by chance know my daughter?”

The ghost did not have any discernible facial features, but Haruka could feel the eagerness radiate from her. She felt a tug of deep sadness. If the mansion was as old as it seemed, the ghost’s daughter was probably long gone.

“I’m not from around here, sorry.”

“That’s a pity, my daughter has probably grown into a wonderful lady you’d be lucky to know. Or…” the ghost spun excitedly. “It’s a good thing, because if my daughter is your age, you’d surely fall in love with her instead of--”

“Usagi.”

The small ghost made herself smaller. “Sorry.”

Makoto came forward, gliding rather than walking. “Our Lady Michiru believed you may need company.”

“Oh, no, I’m alright, you guys don’t need to—“

“But we want to!” Usagi butted in again. “We haven’t had a visitor in… in…” She froze, fading in and out of full color and clarity. She was round and blonde, with blue eyes wide in horror. “It’s been…” She rose a transparent hand to her opaque face. “We are…”

Makoto flashed into clarity and put a solid hand on Usagi’s shoulder. They both calmed back to shadows.

“Well,” Usagi said, as though nothing had happened, “it’s been several years, at least. So we could use the company as much as you could!”

Haruka forced a smile. “Alright then.” If she stayed here, would she face the same fate? Had the creature trapped these two women years ago, and now that they had died or done whatever had put them in this limbo, she’d decided she needed another?

“Do not be afraid,” Makoto said gently, as though sensing Haruka’s thoughts. “We are Michiru’s handmaidens, while she is trapped here so are we.” She turned to the door. “Would you allow us to give you a tour?”

“Um, sure.”

They took her through various sitting rooms, the kitchen, a library and even a wine cellar. Usagi advised her on the many nooks and crannies where you might— not that she had, that would be irresponsible as a lady’s maid, but still, you might— sneak a suitor in to have a moment alone. Makoto was more practical, she told Haruka where the entrance to the walled gardens was, if she would like to go outside, and all the staircases that led to the floor her bedroom was on.

They came upon a staircase that neither of them said a word about. Haruka stopped. “Is that where she told me not to go?”

Both ghosts froze. “Yes,” Makoto said. “And you’d best keep to that.”

“Why?”

“Haruka! Michiru is a lady.” Haruka had the keen sense that Usagi had her hands on her hips. “She can’t have someone like you in her chambers. It would be improper.”

Makoto hurried them both along. Haruka wondered if that was the whole story, or if it was true at all.

“What else can you tell me about her?”

“Generally,” Makoto said sternly, “if you want to know about someone, you should ask them directly.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

She softened. “You’re afraid.”

“No!” Haruka’s stubbornness got the better of her. “I would never, I just—“

“She was made to be frightening,” Usagi said quietly. “I was scared for a while, too.” Her shadow shrunk down smaller than ever. “It hurts our Lady. She could always be scary, but she got to choose when.”

“She was not nice, but nor was she cruel. Her family took care of the town, and employed many of its people, and she had no need to extend more kindness than that.”

“What happened, then?”

“Oh Haruka,” Usagi said. “You can’t expect us to spill all her secrets for her.”

Haruka could not help but smile a little. “I’m beginning to think you’re plotting something.”

“It would do Michiru good to have company aside from us.” Makoto sighed. “She does not like to admit to loneliness, but it’s clear she’s suffering.”

Part of Haruka wanted to shout that she, too, would suffer when kept as a prisoner, especially with something that, while they spoke highly of her, was still clearly a monster, but she thought better of it. “She did seem… sad, last night.”

Usagi nodded her shadowy head. “She wanted so badly to impress you!”

That, perhaps more than anything else, rang true to Haruka. The creature had tried so had to grasp the silverware, and Haruka had pretended not to see but all she could wonder was why she did not simply eat with her claws, if it was what she was accustomed to. She felt bad, now, for how she’d reacted. Michiru had been, it seemed, a person. Still was, probably, despite how she looked. Haruka’s cheeks flushed with shame. She knew what it was like, to be treated as less than you were.

She thought for a long moment. “Could the two of you convince her to come to dinner again?”

“We can try.”

“And the kitchens will make anything I want? Even if it’s not a food that you guys would know?”

“It should, yes.”

“Haruka, are you plotting too?”

She laughed. “I think I just might be.”

****

Haruka made her way to the dining room that evening and was pleased to find exactly what she’d wanted. The table bore a large plate of hamburgers and a practical troph of fries. She deeply wished she could send a pic of it to Mina, it was a party dream come true.

She took a seat towards the middle, so that wherever Michiru sat there would not be so much distance between them.

The shadows from the windows grew longer. The food stayed magically warm, but Haruka still worried. Her misgivings about trying to befriend a monster, her captor, began to rise in her stomach again.

There was a rustle outside the door. Haruka caught a glimpse of a scaly tail in the crack it was open. Michiru was pacing outside. Haruka surprised herself by thinking there was something almost endearing in it.

“Please come in,” she said as steadily as she could.

Michiru came to the door, half hiding behind it. “What is this?”

“They’re hamburgers.” Haruka took one. “They’re good. You eat them like this.” She rose it to her mouth and took a bite.

“If all you seek is to poke fun—“

“No, no! I like them.” She took some fries, hoping to drive the point home. “I thought you might too.”

Michiru hesitated, but then slowly approached the table. She took a seat again at the end of the table and took a burger as gingerly as she might handle porcelain. Her claws strained the bun but did not pierce it.

She looked at it with suspicion, then glanced to Haruka. “What is the year?”

Haruka swallowed her bite quickly. “2018.”

“Ah.” She turned back to the food. “And people… eat with their hands now?”

“Sometimes, yeah. For burgers and pizza, and stuff. We don’t eat steak or whatever by picking it up like this.”

“Oh.” She looked at the meat. “Is this not a steak?”

“It’s beef, yeah, but if there’s bread like this, we use our hands.”

“Like with hors de’ouvers.”

“Sure.”

Haruka watched, hopefully not in ant way that was weird, as Michiru chanced a bite. Her gaunt face twisted the moment it was in her mouth. “Oh dear, it’s quite… well, I should hope I’m not being rude, but it’s absolutely disgusting.”

Haruka laughed. “Yeah, we probably have way worse taste than people did in your day.”

“I would say so.”

They made eye contact, smiling at each other for the first time.

“We’ll try something else tomorrow, I’ll try and figure out—“

“Tomorrow?”

“Well, yeah, you said it was proper to have dinner together every day. Or do you mean you want something else now?”

“Oh no, you don’t need to worry on my behalf.” She looked down at her plate, limp hair falling over her shoulder. For a moment, Haruka could see how the motion would look on a person, on a woman who might be called beautiful. “You have been very kind to me, and I have not repaid you as such.”

“You don’t gotta…”

“Do you wish to leave?”

Haruka shut her mouth, suspicious of a trick.

“I can’t keep you here, I know. I acted selfishly, and I want you to go freely.”

“Well, I can’t get far without gas for my truck, and I know you can’t give me any.”

“I apologize.”

“Don’t worry about it. Can we make a deal?” Michiru nodded. “My roommate will come looking for me. Can I stay here until she finds me? She’s tenacious, she’ll make it eventually.”

“That sounds fair.”

“And until then, we can always have dinner together. And maybe…” Haruka wracked her brains for a good gesture of faith. “Makoto told me about the gardens, but didn’t take me. Maybe tomorrow you could show me around?”

Michiru pushed her burger around her plate, a small smile breaking across her face. “I would like that, Haruka.”

Haruka stopped just short of saying “It’s a date.” Life had gotten very strange very fast.

[4birds-of-a-feather]

Chapter 26 - Man, it doesn’t show signs of stoppin’ [part 6]

Birds Of a Feather

(In the previous chapters: Stone and Mike join the happy brigade, Sara at first treats ‘em like shit but, as the beer grows, she becomes more and more friendly; Mike helps Ed and Layla with the dinner that successfully takes place, until Jeff suddenly appears, not so happy about the gang’s decision of throwing a party without letting him now)

“Slides?” Mike asked incredulous. “Yup” Jeff confirmed as he was having his plate filled by Layla for a second pasta round. “Is that what all the entertainment consisted of?” Stone remarked while his bandmate stuffed his face with food. “It consisted in them showing slides of their Hawaii vacation to a bunch of college jerks” “Hawaii is amazing, I definitely have to go there someday. And catch some waves. The pictures must have been beautiful, nature is so wild” a dreamy eyed Eddie said, ocean waves rolling in his mind. “It wasn’t exactly National Geographic style, Ed. From what you could see, those pictures may as well have been shot in West Seattle.” Jeff immediately killed his friend’s enthusiasm “And even the greatest photo shoot starts to get boring after half an hour” “C’mon, I’m sure the subjects weren’t bad at all” Stone retorted, earning nasty looks from the two girls sitting at the table. “... And the subjects of the pictures were the only subjects of the whole party actually, they were the only girls, which I found kinda weird...” “Uh yes, very weird!” Layla simply rolled her eyes. “Cough cough attention cough seeker” Sara whispered not so low between fake coughs. “Well, you’re the only female subjects here too, ladies. You often are” Stone pointed out ignoring the danger. <If looks could kill, I'd be dead already> the guitarist thought right when Layla opened her mouth. “Well, this is not a party, we literally live here-” “Temporarily” Jeff chimed in while chewing. “... Temporarily” Layla repeated. “We live here temporarily and you fuckers casually dropped by to eat for free, it’s not like we invited you” Sara blurted out with a straight face. Stone was about to answer back, but the bass player interrupted them to go on with his story. “Anyway, it was two girls and like twenty guys and there was something like a slice of pizza and half a can of beer for each person” “That’s the worse shit” Mike finally commented. “... And they were cranking New Kids on the Block's Christmas album on the stereo” “Now that is the worse shit” Eddie noted with a disgusted face. “And that’s why I came back here, I didn’t expect a secret party was being thrown at my apartment” Jeff said not even trying to hide some resentment. “It’s not a party! And we weren’t even supposed to be here” Layla replied, looking at the others alternatively. <But I'm glad we are> she thought and smiled to herself. “And what about all this?” Jeff asked, pointing at the table. “We were hungry, I had to cook something” the girl defended herself. “And what about that?” he then pointed at the decorated Christmas tree. “You can’t have Christmas without a Christmas tree!” “And I bet you were about to exchange presents without me” the bass player went on. “Hey, just chill, Jeffrey, we don’t do presents” Stone shrugged and poured himself more wine. “Well, you don’t but someone does” Sara remarked, looking at Layla. “Hahaha! What do you think they are, then? Those boxes under the tree? Decorations?” Jeff pointed out, laughing at his bandmate’s face. “You got us presents?” Mike asked with a confused look on his face, while Eddie pretended to be surprised too. “Well, I’d have given them to you once I had got back from my... family vacation” Layla explained, still struggling a little not to let out her secret. “Buuuut, since we’re all here... UNWRAPPING TIME!” Jeff rubbed his hands and yelled all of a sudden making everyone in the room yelp.

Ament went first for the packages under the small Christmas tree followed by his band mates, and each one of them immediately found their own present. The bass player literally tore the wrapping paper in pieces to reveal a wooden box containing a professional set of paint brushes. “Wow, these are cool! How did you know I needed them?” Jeff asked, probing the different brushes with his fingers. “Where do you think I live? Temporarily, that is.” Layla beamed “You always leave your brushes around in the house when you paint and I noticed they were mostly dry and mangy, so...” “Thank you, Four Eyes, I owe you” he gave the girl a small pat on her back and went back to examine the new brushes. “THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ‘I OWE YOU‘? WHERE’S YOUR PRESENT?!” Sara unexpectedly yelled at the bass player. “Are you crazy? What's wrong with you, you made me deaf!” her roommate complained, painfully covering one of her ears with her hand. “We should explain to our gentle host the meaning of the word exchanging when you talk about gifts” the girl went on, folding her arms in a threatening way. “How would I know she’d been here! I though she was leaving” Jeff justified himself, strangely without attacking Sara, but apparently showing a genuine remorse. “It doesn’t matter, Jeff, really! It’s fine, I didn’t expect a present” Layla tried to calm her friend down but it looked like there was no point in trying. “It’s not fine at all!” Sara exclaimed, before being interrupted by someone else. “Ehm ehm...” Mike cleared his throat catching the girl’s attention as he was holding his still unwrapped gift in his hands “Actually... we don’t have presents either” “WHAT?” “That’s not true, we brought the wine” Stone retorted. “The wine you stole at your parents’ house doesn’t count as present” Sara smirked and the quarrel was extended to the other two musicians, while another figure was secretly walking away into another room very quickly. “I’ve let you live in my fucking apartment for months, isn’t that enough for a present?” Jeff flailed his arms around in sudden exasperation and Sara was about to stand up when a voice behind stopped her. “No, it’s not!” the girls turned around to see two huge boxes held out by someone who must have been Eddie, given from the voice who spoke, but was completely covered by the packages. “TA-DA!” Mike shouted and everybody but the two girls started cheering and laughing. “... The fuck?” Sara craned her neck to give a better look at the boxes. “Merry Christmas from all of us!” Ed said from behind the packages. “You must have a really shitty opinion of us if for a moment you really thought we hadn’t got you a fuckin’ gift” Stone remarked, almost offended. “Well, considering you have a caveman in your band, that didn’t sound totally unlikely” Sara answered and the bass player immediately flashed her a smile together with his middle finger, mouthing a Merry Christmas that was supposed to be playful but left the girl confused for a minute. “Here, this is yours, Layla” Eddie handed the green box to the girl who hadn’t spoken a word until then. “Thank you... you shouldn’t have, I wasn’t expecting this” she took the package and looked at the smiling guys one by one as she spoke. “Wait until we see what it is, before thanking them” Sara joked as she collected herself and tore the blue box away from the singer’s hands, wasting no time. “They’re survival kits” Stone revealed and, in doing so, immediately earned a slap from Jeff on his shoulder. “Shut up! You’ll ruin the surprise” Mike protested. “They’re literally opening the packages now, they’ll know in a couple of seconds” “So keep your mouth shut for two secs, can you?” Ament urged him while Layla started to squeal. “AAAAAAAAWWWWWW! This is so cute!” the girl held out a green throw pillow with a message written on it, which Mike promptly read aloud. “Thank you for feeding all us fuckers” “Thank you for putting up with our crap” Sara chimed in, reading what was written on her turquoise throw pillow and hardly hid a smile. “You’re always whining that we steal all the pillows and-” Jeff started but was interrupted by Eddie. “Actually, it’s just you, you take all the pillows when you’re on the couch... Actually, you take up the whole couch and the pillows” his roommate corrected him. “Huh, whatever... Now you'’e got your own!” “Oh, there’s something else!” Layla rummaged into the box and found a white memo board, whereas Sara found a small box with markers, notes and magnets. “You, well, we all can leave each other notes and write messages so we won’t live in total chaos anymore” Eddie explained and Stone chimed in, blatantly winked at him. “Yeah yeah, you can leave each other any kind of message, now” “This also counts as a present for your newly restored apartment, when it’ll be finished. I think it’ll take a little longer than the building of the Great Wall of China” Jeff snorted but he, and Eddie and the girls at the same time, kind of stopped for a second to think that it’d soon be over, that Sara and Layla would eventually go back to their place and this adventure together would end. Jeff was always complaining about having his place invaded, Sara couldn’t stand not having privacy, Layla and Eddie mocked their friends, but all of them almost forgot that it was actually temporary and that it’d soon be only a memory, a footnote of their own history. Jeff’s words made them all realize that for a moment, and one moment later they all preferred to put the thought in the back of their minds once again and just forget it. “Thank you so much, these are the best presents...” Layla held the pillow tight and almost got teared up. “Oh no, please, don’t. C’mon, just open your presents, you fuckers! Before the waterworks come” Sara urged the rest of the gang to unwrap their gifts as she put the box on the floor and picked up Layla’s present for her. “A FUZZ PEDAL! YOU GOT ME A FUCKIN’ FUZZ PEDAL!” when he opened the small box and spotted its content, Mike literally jumped up and let it fall back on the table. “Wasn’t that the one you wanted?” Layla asked, not sure how to interpret his reaction. “IT FUCKIN’ IS!” “Oh well, I’m ha-” “MARRY ME” McCready run up to the girl and threw his arms around her neck. “Hehe! It’s not new, it’s second-hand” Layla giggled. “I DON’T CARE, MARRY ME TOMORROW” “Cough cough, my turn now” Stone called as he stood in line behind Mike, holding his sets of band-themed guitar picks. “Ok, there you go” the other guitarist went back to his place, while Gossard took over in the hug. “The Beatles ones are my favorites” he admitted, playfully rubbing Layla’s back until he casually made eye contact with a not amused Eddie. “Your turn now!” Stone sat back and pointed at the singer, who hadn’t unwrapped his gift yet. “Huh? Oh yeah, sure...” he smiled at Layla and as he found out what was in the box his smile turned into a huge grin. “I know that you basically consume a composition book a day so I thought I’d buy you a stock” Layla explained as Eddie was examining the notebooks, which were all either music or sea themed. “Thank you, this is... Oh there are pens too!” “If you take a better look, you’ll find something else” Layla added and Eddie knitted his brows, removing all the composition books and placing them on the table, only to find a mini cassette recorder. “You got me a tape recorder?” “Do you remember when you said you have the best ideas when you don’t have a pen or during your sleep and then when you wake up you’re too groggy for written words and once you recover and wake up it’s all gone? Well, I thought that you could keep this with you and record ideas as they come to you and you could as well keep it on your nightstand and pushing a button is surely easier than holding a pen and writing in a comprehensible language, don’t you think?” Layla illlustrated the reason behind her choice and Eddie listened to her intently, his mouth open and his eyes looking alternatively at the recorder in his hands and at Layla’s face. “You’re... you’re a genius, this is the smartest present I’ve ever got” “So why don’t you hug her? C’mon! Husband number three!” Stone jokingly pushed him towards Layla and he obliged with a quick hug. “I’m happy you liked it.” Layla cheered, then turned towards her roommate “Anyway, all the presents were from me and Sara, so you should queue up for her too” “Over my dead body” Sara warned scornfully as she saw the two guitarists stand up at the same time. “And what about your present? What are you waiting for?” Layla ignored her reaction and asked her about the gift that was still untouched in her hands. “I was waiting for these four jokers to stop being assholes but I guess I’d have to wait forever” her friend shrugged and finally ripped up the wrap paper as she’d wanted to do since the dinner started. “I hope you’ll like it” the other girl added nervously. <I really hope I didn't fuck up with this Christmas gift or I'll be the worst friend ever> Sara opened the box and produced a small glass bottle with a black cap. “HOLY VITTORIO DE SICA!” she basically yelled at the top of her lungs and the guys came closer to see what had caused such a reaction. “Are you insane??? Neighbours are gonna call the police!” Jeff protested. “Coffee!” the girl said enthusiastically, ignoring him. “... You got her coffee?” Mike asked incredulous. “Maybe you should have given her chamomile tea” Stone joked. “Pear!” Sara went on. “You got her coffee and a pear?” Mike asked again. “... Pink pepper, vanilla and patchouli?! This is my favorite perfume ever!” “... Guess you like it” Layla smiled and breathed a sigh of relief as Sara sprayed a little perfume on her wrist and smelled it ecstatic. “I don’t like it, I ADORE IT! I didn’t have it in my collection yet, I love you” she answered and tackled Layla in a bear hug. “You love her but didn’t buy her a present?” Jeff insinuated with a smirk. “Sure I bought her a present, you brain-dead party boy” Sara stuck her tongue out at the bass player and retrieved her gift for Layla, the last one left, from under the Christmas tree. Layla clapped her hands and then proceeded to unwrap the small envelope. “Putain de merde!” she yelled and threw herself over her friend. “What did she say?” Jeff asked Eddie. “I don’t know” “... I thought you knew French” “Well, I don’t know everything... I think she likes the present” “Well, wow, thanks a lot Monsieur Veddèr, we totally wouldn’t understand that without you” Stone sarcastically remarked. “You’re coming with me, right?” Layla asked, waving two tickets around under Sara’s nose. “Of course I’m coming with you, who else would hold you back on your seat while you sing all Valjean's parts?” her friend confirmed, while Layla started dancing around the room murmuring tunes to herself. “Are they concert tickets?” Eddie asked as he happily followed Layla’s moves with his eye. “No, they’re tickets for a musical: Les Misérables” “J'avais rêvé d'une autre viiiiiieeeeeeeeee” Layla started singing loud. “... God, I forgot Fantine” Sara covered her face with her palm. “Mais la vie a tué mes rêêêêêêves” Layla opened the window and started singing at the people passing by down the street. “El, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I have to remind you that we’re actually going to see the English version” The other girl stopped and slowly turned around with a cold expression, walked up to Sara, as everyone was holding their breath, pointed at her and added “Comme on étouffe les derniers criiiiiiiiiiis, d'un animal que l'on achèveeeeeeeeee” The whole gang bursted out laughing and Sara shook her head, while Layla kept on singing and twirling around. “Shit, we lost her”

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When Eddie found her, Sara was intent on chewing the edge of her paper cup – her gaze fixed upon the wall that divided the living room from the kitchen. “Penny for your thoughts?” he approached her, grabbing a beer from the table where the rest of the refreshments had been arranged. She blinked a couple of times, slowly, then shook her head. “Nothin’ at all” “You seemed pretty interested in that crack” he pointed at a large breach above the kitchen’s entry “You plannin’ on switchin’ to Architecture?” The girl didn’t give him an answer, keeping on gnawing her paper cup, but Ed was still able to see the smile that tugged at her lips. “Man, did I really fail? I thought I got this one right, c’mon!” he theatrically put a hand right above his heart, clutching at his t-shirt’s fabric. “Yeah, yeah, whatever” she grabbed his arm to stop him, but released him almost immediately. “Is something wrong?” “No, it’s just a stupid thing” “You sure? I can promise you I won’t laugh” Sara finally turned and looked at him: “I’m dead serious” “That makes two of us” “Jesus Harold Christ on a fucking rubber crutch… Fine, I’ll spill the beans” she pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a couple of deep breaths “I wanna do something unethical and I’m restrainin’ myself from doing it” “Unethical like what?” “Ugh, Eddie… I can’t even pronounce it” “Should I worry?” “… IwannaseeTheGodfatherIIIevenifitsucks” she finally conceded, talking a mile a minute. “Think you could rewind the tape and play it again, but this time at the right speed?” “I said that I wanna see The Godfather III, even if it’s an unbelievable shit!” “… and that’s the problem?” “I told ya it was a stupid thing – I wanna go because I love the first two movies and I’d like to have some closure to this saga, but that would mean destroying my reputation of movie snob, fuck” “… I could go with you” Ed blurted out, while the girl looked at him as if he had just grown another head “You could go with me: if we meet somebody that knows you, we’ll just say that you’re the expert and I begged you to come with me because I can’t remember all the characters – which technically it’s true, we wouldn’t be lying” “You’d do this?!” “Why not? I mean, it’s Francis Ford Coppola” “Yeah, but-” “We should decide when to do this, so before that we can organize a proper re-watch of the first two films…” “… Why?” The guy looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Why are you doin’ this for me? I’ve been nothing but a mean bitch to you ever since we met, I just… I just can’t-” Sara stopped talking, lowering her gaze and finally crushing the paper cup she was still holding. “You’ve been nothing but a nice bitch; you helped me to heal things with Layla, and the others told me that you even took my side more than once” he gave her a genuine smile “You’re a bit rough, but that’s just how you cope with things: I get it, sometimes I can be like that” “You? An asshole like me? I don’t think so” “Oh, believe me: there have been times when I have been – and a glorious one, if I may say so” “You may, you may” she finally chuckled and he smiled again, relieved. “So yeah, you’re not a shitty person at all” Eddie gave her a flick on a cheek “Now let’s rejoin the others, there’s still time to think about when to go to the movies” The two of them started to make their way to the kitchen, when the girl suddenly stopped and spoke again. “… Ed?” “Yeah?” “Thank you – I might be a nice bitch, but you’re pretty decent yourself” They shared a smirk and finally rejoined the rest of their friends.

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“Ok so we ate all the food, we did the presents thing, we hugged, we kissed-” “Who kissed? I didn’t kiss anyone” Mike, sitting beside Jeff, sprang to attention. “I was just saying... We cheered, we sang” the bass player was slouching on the couch and went on listing the things they had done, counting on his fingers. “In French” Mike pointed out. “In French. We threw water balloons at those fuckin’ kids in the street who dared to criticize Layla’s singing skills” Jeff went on counting, nudging at Layla, who was sprawled on the other side. “Water bags” McCready corrected him. “What?” “Technically they weren’t balloons, they were plastic bags filled with water” “They were just two bags, then we started simply throwing water at them, with no containers” Layla added. “Ok ok, so we did that. And now? What do we do?” Jeff asked himself and the others as Sara and Eddie were coming back from the kitchen into the living room. “Hey, you two, any ideas?” Layla asked them cheerfully, pretending not to eye them suspiciously. “Huh... I don’t know... Truth or dare?” Eddie shrugged and the teenager inside him was considering the different possibilities he could ask to or be asked by Layla in that kind of game. “How old are you? 12?” Stone gave him a side look from the armchair he was sitting on. “Strip poker!” Mike suggested. “I’m gonna strip the rather small amount of flesh off your bones if you say that again” Sara threatened him, grabbing one of the markers the guys gave to her and Layla and pointing it at the guitarist. “... With that thing?” Jeff tiredly raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, so it’s more painful!” “Ok, guys, shut up, I think I’ve got the thing” Stone stated then stood up and walked out somewhere through the hallway, only to appear a few secs later with an immediately recognizable box in his hands. “Jesus, are you fuckin’ kidding me?!” Mike exclaimed. “Twister! I almost forgot you had left it here after the last party! Good choice, it’s gonna be fun” Jeff suddenly stood up from the couch, clapping his hands. “It’s gonna be fun for you, not for the poor souls who are gonna be crashed by your whole self while also having their bones broken in the process” McCready complained and almost shivered as he remembered their last drunk Twister game. “Oh, Jeff’s gonna be careful this time... ain’t that right, Jeffrey?” Stone addressed the bass player with a devilish grin. “It’s not my fault if you don’t know how to play and don’t know the rules” Ament shrugged and took the box from the guitarist’s hands. “Stone’s rules are cruel” Mike sulked. “Stop it, Mikey, Sara's playing too” Stone blatanly winked at the guitarist who turned his pout into a smile. “In this case, I’m in. When do we start?” “I’m not gonna play your stupid game, Gossard” Sara tried to keep it cool and shook her head. “She can't play, she’s wearing a skirt” Layla explained, stating the obvious. <Oh my god, really??? Sorry Layla, we didn't notice! Haha> Stone laughed internally while he was pretending to be taken aback from the revelation. “Wha... oh, right! I wasn’t thinking about it, sorry” “What if we promise not to look?” Mike suggested. “What if I promise to claw your eyes out with the same marker?” Sara retorted with a huge smile on her face that frightened the guitarist. “... Ok, Sara’s gonna be the ref” he said as Jeff and Eddie were unboxing the game.