#the only thing i could think of apart from what i remember from chem class is that D is a lot like this iteration of Sherlock

[little-red-fool]

Guess who watched Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes and now has another insufferable OC AU idea.

[xpeachesncream]

lowkey (jjk) | 14.

⦿ boo’d up in the daytime

⦿ mackin’ & hangin’ in the nighttime

↳ series masterlist

summary: in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

pairing: popular!reader x nerd!jjk

genre: college au, fake dating au, friends (with benefits?) to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 4.6k

warnings: cussing, implied sexual content/mature language, alcohol consumption and intoxication, club scene, marijuana use (not oc or any of the boys), still some overthinking but peanut is doing her best to just take the days as they come, physical/verbal altercation, wounds (small cuts), mentions of bleeding (only slightly, nothing too gory), disrespectful toxic seokjin, first aid and caring for wounds, some awkward tension?

It was almost like the universe was trying to keep you two apart, or so you thought. You had seen less of Jungkook during the weeks, unsure if he was intentionally hiding away for personal reasons or just to be away from the crowd, not be the talk on campus. Even when you did catch sight of him, he'd give you a small smile, tug on his backpack strap and walk off with his head hung low.

You had no idea what it meant, had no idea if he still wanted to keep his word about being there for you, if he still even wanted you around— even as a friend.

But, you tried not to dwell on it, even post-accidental phone call that happened 2-3 weeks ago [you aren't even sure anymore, time flies]. You tried to remember that things were happening for a reason, things were playing out this way for a reason. If you and Jungkook were meant to be around each other, it would happen at the right time. It still didn't change the fact that you missed him, though. That you wished things didn't get so deeply complicated for no reason.

Besides, you had to worry about getting your O Chem test back today being that it was the last test before finals. Although you felt quite confident, you were still scared that you could have done terribly and this would ruin your rising grade. A grade that you worked so hard to raise.

Walking into class, Jungkook sat two tables away, the brim of his hat covering majority of his face as he looked down at his notebook in front of him. You kept your gaze on him, hoping he'd catch the eye contact and return it in your favor. But he didn't— never looked up once, even as people piled in loudly and slammed their things onto the table he was sitting at.

"Y/N!" Jimin taps the space next to him happily, another figurine poking through the open part of his bag.

"Where do you get these?" You tap the head of the figurine. He smiles as he brings it out of his bag.

"My dad. He trades and all this stuff." He rubs the side of the figurine, getting rid of any marks his fingers might have left.

"Who is it though?"

"It's from World of Warcraft, he's this villain named Arthas and he's super sick! He has sick ass armor, does all this cool shit—" He gets excited, but his cheeks become rose-tinted when he sees you smiling at him with a puzzled look on your face. He adjusts his position in his chair and shrugs it off, trying to be cool and smug about his explanation. "He's just a cool guy, you know? I had been looking for this for awhile and my dad finally got his hands on one."

"Well, I'm glad you finally got it." You give him a look of approval.

"Yeah, same." He looks at his figurine all smitten before placing it back in his bag. "So, the club tonight?"

"Depends on if this test will either make or break my weekend."

"Ah, I think you did well Y/N, have some faith! You worked hard." Jimin does a couple of light taps against your arm. "If you do get a good grade, club to have fun?"

"Yeah, I'm game if you guys are game."

"Always." Jimin nods and sits back confidently.

"We could always just hang out and play board games."

"We could, but me and the guys haven't been to a club yet."

"Touché." You look at him. "Must warn you, it can get a little hectic now that it's not just people on campus and their friends. People get sloppier, fights can break out."

"A thrill, I like it." He wiggles his eyebrows, making you snort. "I think I can handle."

"Hoseok and Taehyung, too?"

"Yeah, well. We'll see." He shrugs before opening his notebook. Dr. K starts class with his usual greeting, even though he's pacing around with all the tests resting on his arm. He talks about the class average being a little higher this time, and that he has better hopes for the final coming around the corner. He begins making his way around the room, finally making it back to you with a smile before placing your test face down.

"Shit." You let out a breath.

"Come on, let's see it." Jimin nudges you.

"Jimin, I'm scared."

"Of what? You're not afraid of anything. You've been doing so well, don't doubt yourself." You nod.

"Okay." You flip the paper over, eyes glowing at the big, fat A- circled at the top of your test. You quietly squeal, Jimin shaking his fists excitedly.

"See!"

"Ah god, that's a relief." You place your hand against your chest before biting onto your bottom lip.

"I told you." Jimin smiles. "So, after class, wanna hear my outfit ideas for the club tonight?" You nod with a tiny giggle.

"Sure. Let me text Sunmi to see if she can grab tickets for us now."

"How exciiiiting." Jimin sings as he flips his test over to a big A- circled on the top of the page as well.

"Hey." You call for him as you continue to keep your eye on your phone while you shoot a quick text to Sunmi. "How has your roommate been?"

"Quiet."

"Yeah?"

"Ya. We really don't talk unless we absolutely need to. Like 'hey, can u venmo me for utilities? thanks' kinda stuff. I feel pretty bad now, but I'm trying to tell myself that he deserved to get called out, you know?"

"It's okay, Jimin. He needed to hear it."

"You haven't talked to him since your accidental call?"

"No. I've barely seen him on campus."

"Just give him time."

"Do you—" You pause to look up at Jimin. "Do you think he'll go tonight?"

"Probably not. Sorry peanut, he's just been locking himself away in the room. Maybe he should anyway, get some time to reflect on himself." You nod silently, taking the tip of your pen to the blank sheet of paper to write the date as Dr. K begins his review for the day. Yeah, you were pretty bummed about it. You wanted to look good in front of Jungkook, get some kind of interaction going.

God, you felt so.. ugh.

It was one of those things where you knew what you needed to do, but you were too shy to do it. You would rather rely on small, coincidental interactions as a build up instead of going for it head on.

Oh well, tonight should be fun. You're pretty much smooth sailing from here on out, being that the final was just going to be a mix of all 4 tests and their questions. The boys were gonna experience their first club event in the city, and you just hoped to god nothing would go down for their first time.

Again, should have known better that tonight would be calm.

Sunmi is joining you and the boys at Hoseok's, dressed in your mini skirts, graphic tees and sock boots. You fluff your hair around a bit before turning to Sunmi, who is filling up the shot glasses.

"Oh gosh, you both look so pretty." Taehyung says in a starstruck manner as he comes in after getting dressed in the bathroom. "Jungkook is such a dummy." He mutters under his breath as he tucks his clothes away into his duffle bag, but Sunmi catches it.

"Yeah, well, let him be a dummy." Sunmi breathily responds. "Anyways, shots? We should get going so the line doesn't get too long for us." And so the pre-gaming shoots off quick, back to back shots are milked out until the uber arrives to take you all deep into downtown for the club. There's already a good amount of people lined up at the door, but luckily, there's a separate entrance for pre-paid tickets.

"Fuck, it's so dark, I can't see shit." Hoseok squints, his hands placed on your shoulders.

"Just follow me, we'll make our way deeper into the club where there's a little more breathing room." The five of you pile in in a single file line, marching through the crowd until you find some familiar faces and a little breathing room.

"Hey! The music!" Sunmi yells as she finally finds some room to dance around. "I like this DJ so far!"

"This is insane, there's so many people here!" Taehyung looks around while doing a little two step.

"It's stuffy." Jimin laughs, fanning away the smoke from vape pens people snuck in.

"Let's dance!" You tug on his arms as all of you start feeling the music, dancing and reciting along to lyrics. Some familiar faces from school join along around you, creating a more comfortable fun atmosphere for the boys. They start loosening up one by one, snatching a few dances from pretty ladies nearby before following you and Sunmi to the bar for more shots.

"You guys okay?" The boys yell and respond happily. "Good, let's take this shit and go!" Sunmi says, handing you a shot glass. Quite frankly, you could go without this shot of tequila. You're good. You're tipsy. You're having fun.

You don't need the extra tequila shot to make you extra turnt.

That's why you take it anyway. Fuck it.

As you're following the group back to your original spot, you get a little lost in the crowd, getting pushed left and right, causing you to fall behind a bit. When you're almost in the clear, another person accidentally bumps into you pretty harshly, causing you to whip your head around to see who the culprit is.

"Ouch—"

"Shoot, I'm sorry."

"Jungkook?"

"Peanut." He softly smiles, hands instantly wrapping around your wrists when he feels the crowd get a little rowdy again. "Hey."

"What are you doing here? I didn't think you'd come."

"Had nothing else to do."

"Did you come here alone?" But he watches as someone gets shoved into you, causing you to lose your balance and stumble. He gets in between and pushes you towards a less congested area near the group.

"Sorry, didn't want you to get hurt." You give him a small smile. "And yeah, I did." The both of you are having to yell over the music, even being inches away from each other.

"You drove?"

"Yeah, I didn't plan to stay long or drink."

"Oh." Is all you can say as you fiddle with your fingers.

"Y-You look pretty tonight." He scratches at his temple.

"Thank you." You blush. "I haven't seen you around campus as much."

"I've just been trying to work on some things—personal things." Someone still manages to brush behind you, making you stumble forward, hands landing on Jungkook's chest.

"Shoot, sorry. This is probably the worst spot to do this." You nervously chuckle.

"It's okay." He keeps you close by pulling at your elbows. "D-do you, maybe, wanna dance?"

"I, um—" You swallow the lump your throat, mouth suddenly feeling dry from the alcohol and how insanely close Jungkook's face is to yours. "I should probably go to the bathroom and find the group." You stutter on your own words.

"Yeah, right." He says, still keeping his eyes on you, thumbs gently and subtly caressing your elbows. God, he missed you being this close to him. He misses your face, your lips, your touch— everything about you. He's literally melting feeling your body against his. "I'll let you go." The way his words come out make you wanna stay in his hold forever; you don't wanna leave, you don't want him to let you go.

But, you step away anyway.

You step away and take one last look at him before you start navigating through the crowd to head to the bathroom. Your heart is damn near beating out of your chest, making you feel a little more woozy than you initially were before bumping into Jungkook. You quickly relieve yourself before dabbing your neck and your forehead with a wet, cold paper towel. You dust yourself down in the full length mirror amongst the chaos that's starting to ensue in the bathroom and walk out with your head held high.

Even though right at this moment, you could probably lose your shit.

You can see Hoseok looking out into the crowd with Sunmi hugged up onto Namjoon. Absolutely fucking fantastic to know he made it because now that means—

"Babygirl." Seokjin says coming in front of you and blocking your view. His eyes are droopy and glazed, hands immediately resting around your waist to pull you close [rather aggressively, shall I say].

"What the fuck, Seokjin?"

"Hey, we were dancing and being all close at Delta Chi, what's the problem now?" You try to push him off, but his grip gets tight. He looks completely cross-faded, the weed still lingering on his clothes. You wonder how he even got in like this.

"Are you crossed?"

"Hell yeah." He laughs. "Come here, baby. Want you to myself tonight." He pulls you close and instantly tries to latch onto your neck.

"Seokjin, stop— what are you doing—" You push him off and he stumbles back, anger boiling in his veins, clear on his facial expression. He scares you, especially when he gets like this. Seokjin was known to get pretty emotional under the influence, but cross-faded? He was a mess. You don't even know why you're surprised seeing him like this because it has came out before. It has contributed to one of your big arguments with Seokjin. It's just been a long time, and you weren't his girlfriend anymore. You didn't know how to handle this.

"Dude, you and Jungkook are over. That wasn't even shit to you, you said it yourself— it wasn't even real. Stop acting like a fucking brat Y/N, I know you don't care about that little nerd. We can make this—" He tries to grab for you again, but someone comes from behind you and shoves him away.

"Hey, get off of her." Jimin says, pushing him back. But Seokjin being taller, and much stronger, ends up shoving Jimin back and to the floor.

"The hell is wrong with you, Seokjin?! Don't touch him!" You smack his arm away from you before helping Jimin up.

"Who the fuck is he? Aren't you Jungkook's ex-friend or whatever?" Seokjin laughs, assuming Jimin was starting to make moves on you. Clearly, the boy has never been just a friend to any girl without slipping his dick inside of her. "Bold. This is fucking dumb, Y/N. What the hell were you thinking becoming their friend and shit? It's below you."

"Don't." Is all you can say.

"Or what? Jungkook's over you, baby. Move on. He's clearly hung up on Jen—" You don't know why, but that shit stings. Reopens wounds you were patching up. You feel the tears slowly welling up, even quicker this time around, as your body temperature rises. Jimin holds you close, unsure of how to even handle the situation at hand right now. Why the fuck was Seokjin crazy like that? Why was he so hung up on Jungkook himself? No one talks about his bestfriend like that.

"Pretty fucking tired of hearing my name come out of your mouth." Jungkook says coming out of the blue, jaw clenched. You reach for his wrist and tug on it gently while the crowd is already making a small circle around you four.

"Jungkook, no. Stop. It's okay—"

"It's okay that he keeps disrespecting you like this? Keeps trying to manipulate you like a psycho?" Jungkook turns to look at you. "No, it's not okay, Y/N."

"Disrespect?" He scoffs. "Manipulate? I know her better than you do—"

"Bullshit, Seokjin. Leave her alone, the hell is wrong with you? She already told you this was over. Look at yourself, you're pathetic."

"You really wanna start this with me, right here? Right now?" Seokjin gives him a push as he walks towards him, Jungkook pushing back with much more force. You back off to the side with Jimin when you realize the two are starting to swing, yelling for them to quit. Jimin tries to do his best to pull Jungkook back, but he truly can't, not with how rowdy they're getting [and you're afraid he'll get hurt]. Seokjin lands a couple of punches on Jungkook's cheek and upper brow area while Jungkook lands a couple of his own before pushing him back into the railing behind.

"Y/N!" Hoseok and Taehyung come towards you, while Sunmi is trying to get Namjoon to get the two to stop. "Where have you been?"

"I got lost and I bumped into Jungkook and Seokjin, and—" Suddenly, the crowd starts joining into the madness and you're being pushed yet once again.

"Crap!" Jimin tries to shield you.

"Break this shit up right now!" The bouncers come over and try to settle the crowd, grabbing Seokjin and Jungkook by their shirts. "Get the fuck out of the club! The hell do you two think you are starting this shit inside? Stay out!" They spit as they toss the two out onto the curb.

"Shit, we should go."

"God fucking dammit, Seokjin." Namjoon clicks this teeth. "We just got here!"

"You're dealing with his ass, not me." Yoongi says as he follows Namjoon and Sunmi out.

"Hey, hey, hey!" You say, getting in the middle when you see Seokjin and Jungkook ready to go at it again out on the street. "Stop!"

"Don't make me call the cops! Get them out of here, now!" One of the bouncers yells.

"Let's go! The fuck, Seokjin! What are you doing?" Namjoon pushes him away from the scene and has him keep walking. "You fucking idiot. I told you so many times to leave her alone, you're borderline crazy now!"

"Hey, you okay?! Are you gonna be okay? Do you want me to stay with you?" You shake your head at Sunmi.

"Go with Joon, I'll take care of Jungkook and the boys." Sunmi nods as she quickly brushes the hair out of your face and pulls you into a hug.

"Okay, get home safe. All of you. Text me as soon as you touch base."

"You too." You smile at her before she runs off to meet up with Namjoon, Yoongi and Seokjin— her curses at Seokjin and yelling heard from a distance.

"Kook." You run towards the boys who have pulled Jungkook down the street and away from the club. "Hey." You get in front and cup his face. "Let me see."

"It's nothing." He clicks his teeth and tries to move out of your grip, but you prevent him from doing so.

"Stop. You're hurt. Let's get you home, okay?"

"Hey, I'll drive your car." Jimin says, completely sobered up from all this random, sudden drama. No lie, he was still feeling a bit awkward being around Jungkook, but moreso felt bad for seeing him like this. For letting shit get wild like this, resulting in Jungkook getting hurt.

"Fine." Jungkook sighs and hands over the keys, pointing in the direction his car is parked in. Jungkook has a cut along his cheek, some blood pooling at the corner of his brow. The boys pile in quietly— Hoseok in the front with Jimin while you sat in between Jungkook and Taehyung. Everyone's quiet and unsure of how to handle this, suddenly being thrown for a loop. They hadn't said much to Jungkook since the night at Delta Chi and now they were all in a car with him? It's crazy how life works.

You keep your hand on your thigh, taking glances every now and then at Jungkook, who was staring outside the window. His hand rested on his own thigh, your pinkies almost touching. You feel bad for getting him in this mess, but he always stood by you, always believed you deserved the best.

No one has really stood up for you like that [special shoutout to Jimin, too]. You even had a hard time standing up for yourself at one point, so you understand the courage it takes— especially for a dick like Seokjin who's stubborn and selfish and fails to see beyond it.

You slide your pinky over his, biting onto your bottom lip as you keep your gaze towards the front. Taehyung is asleep next to you, head slumped onto your shoulder, while Hoseok is also asleep in the front seat with his mouth slacked open. Jimin checks on you through the rear view, offering a tiny smile before continuing to look out at the road in front of him. You catch Jungkook look over at you when your pinky touches his and you instantly become stiff.

Fuck, this is probably so dumb. This is so, so dumb. You won't forget the events that have unfolded between you and Jungkook, but god.

He wasn't anything but your fake-boyfriend-with-the-fucking-benefits, yet he took hits for you and you offer him your pinky?!

Your breathing almost hitches when he puts his pinky on top of yours and curls it. He keeps his eyes out the window while he manages to continue moving his hand over yours, softly, barely, intertwining his fingers with yours. But you keep him there, you want to keep him there for the rest of the ride home.

Hoseok and Taehyung get dropped off at the dorm so Jimin can grab his things and take you guys back to the apartment. When the three of you finally touch base at the building, he parks Jungkook's car in their spot before opening the car door for you and Jungkook.

"I'm good."

"You sure?" Jimin asks.

"Yeah." Jungkook winces as he rubs his forehead. "Honestly, just wanna lay down."

"Okay. Almost." Jimin says, getting the front door open. You quietly follow behind, kicking your shoes off to the side before tending to Jungkook in their bathroom. You take the towel he has in his hand, dampening it with some warm water and some antibacterial soap. You press it lightly against his cheek before moving to his brow, gently cleaning up the area of any dried blood.

"Gonna put a bit of alcohol before I use the ointment, okay?" You say, chest almost touching Jungkook's.

"Thank you." He responds, breath hissing when you press the cotton round with alcohol against his scratches. Your hand rests on his wrist to steady yourself as you dab some ointment and press small bandages against his wounds for the meantime.

"There. Better."

"Here." Jimin says, coming from behind you to hand Jungkook and ice pack. "So you don't swell or bruise too much."

"Thanks to both of you, really. I appreciate it." You and Jimin give him a small smile, Jimin digging his hands into his pockets before doing a small nod.

"Hey, uh, I can take the couch if you need a room—"

"No, I can do it. She can take mine." Jungkook says, washing up his hands.

"Um, okay. That's cool. Thanks though, Chim. For everything, really." He gives you a toothless smile before walking off to his room.

"Let me know if you need anything." He says before shutting the door. Jungkook quietly leaves you to your peace in the bathroom, giving you some time to freshen up before you meet him in his room. You catch him in the middle of stripping off his shirt and tossing it into his hamper, causing you to nibble onto your bottom lip.

Gulp.

You try to look away, but you can't help it. He's fine as fuck. You need to glance from time to time, looking through your peripherals so it's not that obvious.

"You can take any of my clothes, you know that." He says, rubbing his arm as he watches you stand near his door, breaking you out of your daze.

"Right."

"I'm gonna get ready for bed and head out to the couch. Let me know if you need me, okay?"

"Okay." You quietly say as he grabs his pajama pants and heads to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. You shut the door and grab one of his crewnecks, slipping it over your body once you have stripped out of your club attire and tossed them [neatly] aside. You slip under his covers, taking in his scent that envelopes the covers and his pillows.

His bed was comfy. It always made you comfortable.

But you turn to the right and see the empty spot, causing your stomach to sink a bit. This didn't feel comfortable, didn't feel right. It didn't feel right to the point where you felt yourself tossing and turning, even though you had shut your eyes in hopes of falling into a deep sleep.

You turn to the right to check the time on your phone sitting on his nightstand. It was nearing 3:30AM, and you still couldn't get one ounce of shut-eye. You sat up, rubbed your face and let out a breath before hopping out of Jungkook's empty bed. You slowly opened the door, taking a peak to see whether or not you were in the clear since you were still just in Jungkook's large crewneck before tippy-toeing over to the living room. The TV was still on, and Jungkook was sprawled out on the couch, shirtless with a blanket covering his waist down. One leg was up on the arm of the couch, while the other was bent against the cushions.

"Kook." You gently shake him when you bend at eye level. He looks at you, confused while stretching a bit.

"Peanut, what's wrong?" He says groggily, voice deep and husky.

"I can't sleep."

"Do you need my iPad—" He says, back to being afraid of overstepping boundaries.

"No, I just.." You point to the space next to him. "Can I?"

"Of course you can." He scoots towards the edge of the couch, raising the blanket for you to slip into. "Inside so the monsters don't get you." You smile and gently climb over from the edge of the couch and make yourself comfortable against Jungkook's body, his warmth. "This okay?" He says, draping the blanket over you and pulling you close. His arm is underneath your neck while the other is over your waist, your head near his chest.

"Yes."

"Okay." He lets out a breath before he closes his eyes again, thumb gently caressing circles against your hip.

"Jungkook."

"Ya?" His eyes are still shut.

"Thank you for earlier. You know? For sticking up for me like that. I wish you didn't get hurt, though." You fix his hair, brushing it back to gently caress his brow.

"I'm always going to be there for you, princess. Told you that." You smile, even though he can't see you.

"Do you think.. we'll be okay? I know we still need to talk but, I have to say it's been tough, even though you were quite the idiot." He chuckles a bit.

"Ya, I was an idiot."

"At least you acknowledge it." You gently pinch his side.

"I'm sorry, peanut. For putting you through that. Quite frankly, I don't deserve you, but I also want us to be okay." He says.

"Hm."

"It's not gonna stop me from making things better, though." His hand rubs your back. "I know it's all words and they probably don't carry much weight, but you mean a lot to me. More than you know, really." You don't respond, simply eyeing his features before nuzzling back against his chest. "Go to sleep, princess. It's getting late. We can do this later, okay? I'll work to make this right."

"Okay." He adjusts his position before holding you a little closer, still giving you room to breathe, but enough to know that he was there, keeping you safe.

You were love. You had always been love.

tags [CLOSED]: @taegularities @jimidol @miinoongi @bluesharksandfish @ggukkieland @unicornbabylover @thebeebi @preciouschimine @ladyartemesia @moonchild1 @jikookiekosmos @marcoazz2 @kootaes @wearenot7withu @codeinebelle @bigbootyjoonie @thisartemisnevermisses @maichiverse @ppeachyttae @fairysunooo @secretlycrazyhummingbird @yukiehyukie @shesoldbutcute @knjeuphoria @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @awhnamjoon @yoobikook @hobiade @h-hopeless @dianaxnyc @fiantomartell @cupidskth @jungcrookthecookbook @tae165 @ahgasearmyfan @eektaetae @itz-ally

@thesnowinrome @lepetitvegetarien @joondala @bunnybearrj @seagulljk @bts-junseagull​ @gukssunshine @vantaescupid @lonleycoffee @safi4x @plotolonlye​ @kooyanami​ @pjmcth​ @hisunshiine​ @yiyi4657​ @minstradamusdwife​ @iwanttohitmyself​ @jeonstheticcc​ @hoseokstrashcan​ @libra04​ @vantezza​ @rageyoudamnednerd​ @jinsearth​ @fan-ati--c​ @mercurygguk​ @clovergirl88​ @xiaokoo​ @yoongiofmine​ @jeoniscool​ @afiaaa19 @steffiiirose​ @sintaethick​ @pb-n-juju​ @maknaechu​ @hannah2291​

[kythed]

“almost funny”

synopsis: suna rintarou thinks you’re out of his league, and you think he’s out of yours.

tagged: general dumbassery, fwb-to-lovers, some profanity, sexual references but nothing explicit.

commitment level: 5.6k words.

It’s almost funny, really. It’s funny how what started out as a purely physical transaction has now transformed into a one way ticket to Simpville with the name Suna Rintarou stamped on it in big red letters. Suna runs a hand through his hair in frustration as he stares down at your sleeping form, curled up in his SF Giants tee that fits you like an oversized nightgown. He loves how you look there, wearing his clothes, bed head resting on his pillows. It’s almost embarrassing how much he loves it. How much he might love you. 

He doesn’t really remember when he started seeing you as more than a good fuck. Maybe it was that time you told him he looked pretty with your lipgloss smeared across his mouth. 

“That’s a nice shade on you,” you’d laughed as he wiped his lips on the back of his hand. “You should wear it more often.” 

Then, before he could respond, you’d yanked him back in by the collar, licking into his mouth, deep and dirty. He shivers now even just thinking about it, recalling the taste of that lipgloss. Strawberry lemonade, the sort that comes in little bottles at the dollar store. However “pretty” he might’ve looked in that moment, he’s sure you looked a hundred times better. You always do, and you don’t even have to try. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, even in your worst moments. 

Or maybe it was the time you remembered his birthday when no one else did. January 25th; all his friends had taken off on their ski trips or tropical vacations, but you showed up to his apartment toting a cupcake and a single candle, belting a loud, out of tune rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ until he shut you up with an impulsive kiss on the lips. You’d been surprised, but not so surprised you couldn’t kiss him back. Suna’s pretty sure most friends-with-benefits don’t do that sort of thing. They don’t sit across from each other at the kitchen table, splitting a vanilla cupcake and laughing over matching frosting mustaches. They don’t hug each other goodbye after two hours of scrolling through YouTube and nothing else, content to linger in that air of tentative familiarity and pseudo-friendship. 

Whatever the reason, whenever it happened, all Suna knows now is you’re more than just a fuck buddy. He doesn’t even want to associate the term with you — it feels disrespectful. He wishes he could just stop pretending. Stop pretending he doesn’t want you to be his. 

“Hey.” 

Suna grins at your low, throaty morning voice. It’s cute. 

“Hey,” he responds, reaching forward to flick your shoulder. “You slept in.” 

“Did I?” You blink the sleep from your eyes and squint at Suna’s bedside clock. 9:06. “Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.” 

You fly out of bed, wiggling into your jeans and tossing your hair into a careless ponytail before frantically scanning the room. “Have you seen my sweater anywhere?”

Suna exhales through his nose before getting up and walking over to his closet. “I hung it up last night so it wouldn’t be wrinkled.”

You freeze in your tracks, slowly turning with a teasing grin plastered on your face. “Oh? How considerate of you.”

Suna shrugs, avoiding your gaze. He feels a flush rise to cheeks and desperately hopes it doesn’t show. “Just being polite.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had a little crush on me,” you crow before taking the sweater from the hanger and slipping it over your head. 

“You wish,” he snorts, but all he can think is you’re absolutely right. 

You ignore him and begin shoveling all your things into your purse: a compact mirror, lipstick, house keys. You glance at the clock again. “I’m gonna be so late to this lecture. Damn. Maybe I can text Aiko and ask her to record the first part for me.”

Suna raises an eyebrow. He remembers your friend Aiko from a party last year, before you and he began your… arrangement. She’s outgoing, friendly, and probably the flakiest person he’s ever met. “She’s not gonna do that. Just let me drive.”

“No, it’s fine,” you automatically brush him off, heading into the bathroom to splash your face with lukewarm water. “You probably have your own shit to take care of.”

Yeah, you, he thinks, but instead he says, “Not really. Plus, you’ll probably miss the whole thing if you try to bike to campus. Let me take you in the car. I’ll strap the bike onto the back.” 

You give him a look. “Are you sure, Rin?”

“It’s really not a big deal,” he says, throwing on a shirt. “Outside in five, and I’ll have you there by 9:30, easy.” 

After a few more weak protestations, you finally agree, and as he drives you to your university, he lets himself pretend you’re his girlfriend sitting there in the passenger seat. He turns on your favorite artist’s Spotify mix on the aux and smiles to himself when you hum along, watching the city fly past out the window. What he wouldn’t give for that reality, one where he can love you without all these restrictions, these tricky boundaries between friends and lovers. When you jump out of the car, calling a cheeky “I’ll text you!” over your shoulder, he pretends it’s an affectionate “I’ll see you for dinner tonight!” instead. He pretends that instead of rushing to get away from him and into the lecture hall, you kiss him on the forehead and squeeze his shoulder, reluctant to leave.

“Fuck me,” Suna says angrily before slamming his palm into the horn, scaring a few freshman walking to class. “And fuck you too!” 

He’s not sure who “you” is. Maybe the universe. 

No, Suna Rintarou doesn’t know why or how it happened, but he’s in too deep now. And he’s pretty damn sure you’ll never feel the same way. 

+

You slide into your seat beside Aiko just as the guest lecturer pulls up his power point, breathing out a sigh of relief. Aiko shoots you a grin, waggling her eyebrows. Suna? she mouths, and you roll your eyes, nodding nonetheless. Aiko can hardly wait until after the lecture to start pestering you about it. 

“So,” she says as you leave the auditorium together. “Did you tell him yet?” 

“Tell him what?” You dig in your bag for your water bottle, groaning when you remember leaving it on the edge of Suna’s sink last night. 

“Tell him that you’re in loooooove,” Aiko sings, nudging your shoulder. 

You scoff. “Okay, first of all, I don’t love him.”

“But you like him,” Aiko persists, and you hold up a finger. 

“And second of all, even if I did, I would never tell him.” You yawn, rubbing your eyes before realizing you hadn’t taken your makeup off and thus probably have awful raccoon eye bags. “He’s so out of my league it’s not even funny. It’s kind of pathetic for me to think he’d ever like me back.” 

Aiko scoffs. “If anything, you’re out of his league. You could pull any guy you wanted to. And when I say any, I mean any. Like, I bet you could even get Jake Gyllenhaal.” 

You laugh. “Why specifically Jake Gyllenhaal?”

Aiko shrugs. “Dunno. Just the first hot guy that came to mind. But forget him. My point is, Suna Rintarou is definitely yours for the taking. All you have to do is —”

“I know, I know,” you interrupt. “All I have to do is confess.” 

“Exactly,” says Aiko. Before she can open her mouth again, you cut in. 

“Okay, but listen, Aiko,” you say. “Suna’s the kind of guy who doesn’t let himself get attached. He fully admitted to me when we first hooked up that he’d never had a girlfriend. And that’s obviously not from lack of female interest. It’s because he doesn’t want one.”

“Or maybe it’s because he hasn’t found the right person yet.” Aiko starts heading towards the campus coffee shop, and you follow her. 

“Sure,” you say, getting in line. The cafe is crowded with students getting in their daily caffeination, inhaling sugary lattes and bitter espressos just to stay awake through their next class. Ah… college. “Or maybe he just. Doesn’t. Want. One.” 

Aiko keeps arguing all the way up until you reach the cash register, where you realize you haven’t even decided on what to order yet. 

“Hey there,” says the cashier, smiling sunnily. “What can I get for ya?” 

You blink. He’s attractive. Very attractive, actually. Bleach blonde, a crooked grin that screams trouble in the best sort of way. Miya, says the little name plate pinned to his shirt. “I, uhh…”

“Take your time,” he says leaning forward like he’s about to tell you a secret. “Between you and me, we have an excellent mocha latte. Not too sweet, y’know?”

You find your manners. “Oh, um, yeah. That sounds great, actually.” 

“One mocha latte, then?” he asks, picking up a cup, and you nod. “And to whom do I owe the pleasure of serving today?” 

When you tell him your name, he smiles to himself and scrawls it on the cup. “Pretty.”

You flush and pay, hands shaking a little when you slide your card down the side of the machine. The cashier notices and shoots you a knowing look. Five minutes later, when you pick up your drink from the other side of the counter, you see not only your name written on the lid, but a phone number, too, along with a tiny winking face. 

“What’d I tell you?” exclaims Aiko shrily when you leave the shop. “Any. Guy. Period.” 

You shake your head in exasperation, but you can’t help but throw a final glance over your shoulder, meeting the eyes of the cute cashier one more time. Maybe Aiko does have a point. 

+

That weekend, Suna’s stretched out on his couch, dangling his feet over the armrest and staring up at the ceiling. It’s one of those lazy Saturday afternoons, and usually he’d be enjoying his alone time. Not today, though. Today there’s something — someone — on his mind, and that someone is spelled y-o-u. His phone pings, and he snatches it up with embarrassing speed, groaning when he sees it’s just Atsumu. 

“Bastard,” he mutters, not even bothering to open the message. Probably just asking for the O-chem lab answers. 

Suna rolls over onto his stomach, pulling up your contact name. What he really wants to do is see you, but how is he supposed to do that without sounding weirdly desperate? Hey, he types out. Wanna come over and watch a movie? He pauses for a moment before adding, Pizza’s on me. 

He buries his face in his hands and deletes the text. That makes it sound like he’s asking you out. Well, that’s what he does want to do, but you can’t know that. He’s fairly certain if you knew how he felt about you, you’d freak out. Girls don’t like to be tied down, he reminds himself. Suna groans again, grabbing two fistfuls of hair in irritation. 

“Why are women so complicated?” he says aloud, letting the words echo in his empty apartment. He takes a couple seconds to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and unlock his phone again, this time settling on a simple Come over. Short, sweet, and to the point. Well, not exactly. That makes it sound like all he wants to do is sleep together, when he’d really rather just… talk. Spend time with you. 

“Oh, God,” he mutters. “I’m so done for.” 

It takes what seems like forever for you to arrive, breathless from biking, hair slightly mussed. Suna grins, biting his lip. You’re so beautiful, he thinks, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. Even if all he can get is the sex, then he’s sure as hell going to appreciate it. You smell like lavender laundry detergent, he notices when you press yourself into him, fumbling to close the door behind you without breaking the kiss. 

“Well, hello there,” you laugh when he finally breaks away and draws in a shaking breath. “Somebody’s eager.”

Suna rolls his eyes. “As if. You just took so long to get here.” 

You cock an eyebrow. “You texted me like half an hour ago.”

“Yeah, and you’re half an hour too late.”

You snort and hurl a pillow from the sofa at him. He catches it and smiles, taking your wrist and drawing you in for another messy, open-mouthed kiss.

“Sorry that I don’t have the power of teleportation,” you quip, laughing when he pulls you into the bedroom. Suna resolves to take his time with you today, undressing you carefully, trailing his lips down your sternum and collarbones, grinning to himself whenever you gasp. He almost catches himself saying “I love you” at one point as you cling to him, mumbling his name, but he placates himself with kissing you extra hard at the end instead, pulling you into his chest and falling back into the pillows. 

Usually, you’d take a few minutes to lay in silence, tracing shapes in his skin, and he’d lean back with closed eyes, imagining what it would be like to be loved by you. Slow early morning kisses, skin on skin, whispering and giggling and everything cheesy he used to hate but now wishes he could experience with you. Today, though, you peel yourself off of him and grab your phone as soon as it buzzes, fingers flying in response to whoever had texted you.

“New boy toy?” he jokes, almost choking when you don’t immediately say no. Oh, shit. “You’re kidding.”

“Just a guy I met the other day,” you say casually. Suna stares, slack jawed. “Works at the coffee shop near the quad.” 

“Coffee shop?” He furrows his brow. Doesn’t he know someone who works there? He internally scowls, digging into the back of his brain. Aran? Osamu? 

“Mm,” you say, suppressing a smile as the nameless suitor sends another text. “His name’s Atsumu Miya.”

Suna’s heart nearly falls right out of his chest and cracks at his feet. “No.”

You look up, raising an eyebrow. “No?”

“Not him,” Suna says, forgetting himself, forgetting the nature of your relationship. 

“I didn’t realize you were in charge of who I can and cannot be interested in,” you say bitingly. 

Suna sits up. “I’m not. It’s just, Atsumu… he’s not your type.” 

“You know him?”

“Yeah,” Suna says, thinking back on his days observing the Miya twins’ antics. “He’s not your kind of guy, trust me.”

“Pray tell then,” you say. Oh, fuck. You’re irritated. “Who exactly is my kind of guy?” 

Me, he thinks. I’m your kind of guy. “I don’t know. Just trust me though, okay? Atsumu… he’s difficult.” 

“Thanks, Suna,” you say, tone tinged with sarcasm. Suna cringes. You only ever call him by his surname when you’re upset with him. “But I think I can go out with whoever I want to go out with.” 

“Fine.” The word tumbles out more harshly than he’d meant it to. 

You stare at him in disbelief. “What, are you mad at me or something?” 

Suna exhales heavily. “No, I’m not mad. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. I just wanted to give you a little guidance. As your friend.” 

“As my friend?” you repeat. “My friend?”

Now it’s Suna's turn to be confused. “Are we not friends?”

“I don’t know, Suna,” you say, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, pulling your clothes on. “You tell me.” 

“I’m not sure what you want me to say here,” he says, watching as you struggle to pull your shorts back on. He knows what he wants to say. No, we’re not friends. We should be together. Isn’t it obvious? 

You huff, grabbing your bag and the water bottle you’d left behind the other day. “You know, I don’t really know either. Forget I ever said anything. I guess I just thought…” 

You trail off and shake your head, heading towards the door. Suna scrambles out of bed to follow you, pulling on his pants as he hops down the hall on one leg. “What’s that?” 

“I said forget it,” you call over your shoulder, trying to slam the door, but Suna catches your wrist. As you stare up at him, he thinks he sees your lip quivering, eyes shining with half-formed tears. “Let me go.” 

“I’m serious,” Suna says. “What did you think?” 

You draw in a deep breath, and for a second, Suna thinks you’re about to say the words he’s always wanted you to say. Then you look away. “Let. Me. Go.” 

Slowly, Suna releases you from his grasp, and you stumble backwards, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. 

“Don’t call me.”

“Wait, no —”

“Don’t call me, Suna!” you say loudly, before turning on your heel and speed walking down the stairs. 

Oh. Oh. Suna stares in shock at the place you were just standing on his doorstep. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

When he heads back inside, head empty but for the single thought, I’ve just lost the best thing that ever happened to me, he glances at his phone on the counter. In an instant, he’s opening up his messages, pulling up Atsumu’s. 

Met a cute girl LOL. Gonna bring her to that party on Friday. 

Then, in a separate bubble — Btw: chem answers? 

+

“And then he called me his friend,” you say angrily, handing Aiko the box of Oreos. The two of you are sprawled on the floor of her dorm room. “Just like we were two bros who got together to play XBox every once in a while, instead of two people who had literally just banged.” 

Aiko takes a cookie before handing them back to you. “Asshole.”

“I mean, I know technically we were ‘friends with benefits,’” you say, stuffing an Oreo in your mouth. “But I guess I thought we could be something more. I thought there was no way he could kiss me like that, look at me like that without feeling something. Guess I was wrong.” 

“Screw him,” Aiko says. “You’ve got boys lined up around the block, and he thinks he can treat you like rubbish? Absolute bullshit.”

“I don’t have boys ‘lined up around the block,’” you remind her, smiling regardless. “Just one.”

“And that one is hella cute!” Aiko says. “You’re way too cool to pine over some guy who thinks you’ll just answer his every beck and call without even committing to a relationship.” 

You sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s just… ack. I don’t know. Am I jumping to conclusions? He seemed like he wanted to talk to me more, but I kind of stormed off without saying anything.” 

“Seems like he was pretty clear,” Aiko says with a shrug. “Your call, though. If I were you, I’d forget about him. Plus, you have Atsumu now. That’s a promising route.” 

You smile down at the Oreos, thinking about the cheery bottle blonde. “Yeah… he invited me to a party this coming Friday.” 

Aiko gives you a look and nudges your knee with her own. “You’d better wear that black dress.”

“You think?” you laugh, momentarily forgetting about Suna. 

“Oh, definitely. Gotta look your best on the first date.” 

“Right, and then after that I can just dress like a bum,” you joke. You purse your lips. “Rin might be there. Apparently he and Atsumu are pretty close.” 

“Even better,” insists Aiko. “Make him suffer a little bit. He won’t like seeing you all dolled up on Atsumu Miya’s arm.” 

“I’m not gonna try to make him jealous, Aiko,” you say, and Aiko shakes her head.

“No, I just think he needs to understand what he lost,” she says. “You don’t even have to pay attention to him at all, though. You should try and get to know Atsumu a little better.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, before reaching down for another cookie. “Oh. We’re out.”

“Gas station run?”

“Gas station run.” 

+

When Friday rolls around, you’ve successfully managed to avoid thinking about Suna the entire day. You have a calculus exam in the morning, and then a club meeting in the afternoon, and by the time you get done with everything it’s already time to get ready to leave for the party. It’s across town at someone’s loft apartment, so Atsumu offers to give you a ride, rolling up in a shiny Lexus, a sharp contrast from Suna’s old Chevy. 

“Hey,” he says, getting out to open the door for you. “You look great.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you say. “Although, I might prefer the work uniform.”

“Oh, please,” Atsumu says with a grin. “That apron does nothing to flatter my figure.” 

“Mhm.” The ride there is a slightly awkward one, but that’s normal, you tell yourself. You’ve gotten so used to the easy, teasing camaraderie you and Suna have that you’re rusty in regards to flirting. Atsumu has a different sense of humor, too, nothing like the dry sarcasm Suna’s such an expert in. You shake your head. Stop thinking about him. 

Even sitting next to a new guy, you can’t help but run last weekend’s drama over in your head. The past few months have been a jumble of mixed signals, and last Saturday was no different. How he tenderly brushed your hair from your face as he hovered over you, how he pulled you into his arms afterwards … how he seemed almost jealous when you mentioned Atsumu. Was it really jealousy? Exactly how much does Suna Rintarou care for you? You roll the numbers inside your head, trying to quantify the soft touches and lingering stares. He’s not easy to read; trying to understand Suna is like trying to decipher Greek without ever taking a single class. 

Even trying to get a measure on how much you care for him is difficult. You definitely like him as more than a friend. The only reason you agreed to the whole friends-with-benefits thing in the first place was because of a little crush that grew, that fed on that intimacy… but you’re not so sure now. 

“Here we are,” says Atsumu, jolting you from your contemplation as he pulls up alongside the curb. When you climb out of the car, he takes you by the hand, flashing you a quick smile. Your heart trips over itself, and you smile back. “Let’s do this.” 

+

Suna doesn’t show up to the party. He spends most of Friday busying himself at home, paying off a couple electricity bills, cleaning out the fridge. He even does a load of laundry. That’s how bored he is. By the time the clock strikes eight, he feels as though he’s Swiffered every single kitchen tile, folded every shirt, and wiped down every counter in the entire apartment, all to avoid stewing over you and him and all the ways he keeps messing up. But after doing everything on his to-do list and watching a movie and cooking his own dinner (unheard of!) he finds himself pacing around the living room, biting at his nails and thinking about you. More specifically, you and Atsumu. He hopes you’re not wearing that little dress you wore to the club with him a couple months ago. Not that you don’t look great in it — you do, and that’s the issue. The better you look, the more likely Suna will never get a chance to be with you again. 

To be fair, he’s not entirely sure how much of a chance he’s ever had with you. You’re incredible, plain and simple. Gorgeous, intelligent, the best player two on every video game he’s ever played with you. You’re not especially adept at the games themselves; no, there’s just something about you. There’s always just been something about you he can’t seem to find anywhere else. 

“Damn it,” Suna grunts aloud, flopping down on the couch. It’s nearing half past eleven now. He wonders what you’re doing. Dancing to some shitty music in some crowded living room. Sipping a can of cheap liquor. Letting Atsumu touch your waist, his hand dipping lower and lower until — 

Suna buries his face in the couch cushion. He’s usually not one to let his imagination run away with him, but tonight seems to be one of many recent exceptions. If only there was a way to know where he stands with you, or at least where you stand with Atsumu…

Well, there is a way, actually. Almost of its own accord, his hand inches towards his phone, sliding it open and somehow finding its way into his Snapchat. Fingers shaking, Suna clicks on Osamu’s story. It’s dimly lit, a mass of bodies, loud, drunk guys and scantily clad girls. The music is too loud, even through the phone. Suna squints at the screen — there’s Aran, even Kita’s there, quietly sitting in the corner, but no sight of — Suna’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. Because there you are, and you’re not alone. You’re sitting on Atsumu’s lap, but he can’t see your expression because Atsumu is kissing you sloppily, and — oh, God — it looks like you’re kissing him back. 

And you’re wearing the fucking dress. 

“Damn,” Osamu says in the background. “Looks like he’s getting some tonight.”

Suna throws his phone across the room like it’s a grenade, staring down at his empty hands in disbelief. This can’t be happening. Not to him. Not to you. 

For the first time, Suna Rintarou thinks he understands what it really means to want someone. Not in a sexual way, but in the deepest sense of the word. Want. He wants you, and he’s pretty sure he’s never wanted anyone or anything quite so much in his life. 

All of a sudden, before his brain even has a chance to catch up, Suna finds himself shrugging on a jacket and snatching his keys from the table, dashing out the door like he’s being chased. If he leaves now, he thinks, starting the car and nearly slamming the door on his foot, he can get to the party before you leave. And then, well, then he’s not quite sure what he’ll do, but he’ll do something. 

Again, though, it seems as if the universe might be against him, because there’s an accident on the highway and it takes twice as long to get across town as it should. Suna cusses loudly over the incessant honking and chews on the inside of his cheek until it bleeds. When the traffic lets up and he finally pulls up to the apartment complex, parallel parking in a spot that’s probably illegal, he races up the stairs and into the loft, grabbing the first partygoer he sees. The poor kid’s plastered beyond belief and stares at Suna like he’s an extraterrestrial, eyes glassy.

“You see a girl leave here? ‘Bout this tall, probably left with some douchey looking blonde dude?” 

The kid blinks, hard and slow, before nodding. “Yeah, man, you just missed her. That your chick or somethin’? Because she was sucking face with —” 

Suna spins on his heel before the kid gets a chance to finish his sentence. He’s lucky Suna doesn’t deck him the head, he’s so irritated. 

“Sucking face,” he mumbles, climbing back into the car. He has the route to your house memorized (although he’s not sure how), and he’s pretty sure he breaks about twenty traffic laws trying to get there, so it takes significantly less time to arrive, but to Suna, it feels like an eternity. How did he ever sleep soundly at night knowing other guys had a shot at you before this? He doesn’t know, and he hopes he never has to worry about it again. Not after tonight. 

He gets there just as Atsumu’s pulling out of the driveway. Suna flashes him a mental middle finger and resolves to kick his ass later. No time for that right now. You’re still standing on the front porch, and when Suna stumbles out of the car, you turn towards him, mouth agape. 

“Rin? What are you—”

“Give me a chance.” He’s breathless, eyes wide and hair whipping around his face in the cool breeze. His heartbeat pounds in his ears like it’s about to burst blood vessels.

“Huh?”

“Give me a chance,” he repeats, reaching forward to take your hand. Your palm is cold against his. “I can do so much better, I promise.” 

You furrow your brows. “What in the world are you talking about, Rin?”

The dam breaks. The dam breaks, and everything — the longing, the frustration, everything — comes pouring out in a waterfall of rushing words he doesn’t even have time to think over before they splash at your feet.

“I can do so much better than Atsumu. He doesn’t know you. I know you, and I, well, I’ve liked you since forever, okay? I know your favorite color and your birthday and which Chinese place you like to get takeout from on Saturday nights.” Suna clears his throat. “I know that you like to be hugged from behind and that you hate it when people see you cry. I know so many things about you, and I want to know more.” 

“Rin—”

He holds up a hand. “Just listen. I know we’re just fuck buddies, or friends with benefits, or whatever the hell you want to call it, but I want to change that. You mean so much more to me than the sex. God, even if we never slept together again, I would still love you.” 

You stare at him. “Love?”

Suna swallows hard. “Yeah, fuck it. Love. I love you. Whatever that means to you, it means to me. I love your stupid jokes and your stupid laugh. To be honest, I’m so in love it feels like I’ll never love anyone else.”

He stops to take a deep breath and a shaky laugh. “Pathetic, right? I know it is. I can’t help it. I’m well aware that Atsumu is way more charming and outgoing, and I was probably wrong when I said he wasn’t your type… but I just need to know if I have even the smallest chance of winning you over.” 

There’s a beat of silence. Then another one. You’re gazing at him, head cocked, and the seconds tick by. He still has your hand in his, growing warmer via body heat. Suna feels himself grow increasingly nervous at your expression, curious and almost apathetic — until a wide smile breaks across your face. You laugh, and he thinks it must be the best sound he’s ever heard. 

“You weren’t wrong.”

“What?”

“He’s not my type,” you say. “We didn’t click.” 

“But — I saw, uh — Osamu’s story,” Suna stammers. “Sucking face.”

“Sucking face?” You squint in confusion before chuckling again. “Ah. Yeah, I kissed him. It was part of some stupid game. He’s kind of bad at it.” 

“Atsumu’s a bad kisser?” 

“Well,” you say, drawing the word out. “I wouldn’t say bad. It’s just… you’re better.” 

Suna’s silent for a second, letting the words ricochet around his brain. He’s better. He’s a better kisser. It was just a game. You’re not into Atsumu. “So… does that mean…?” 

“I love you, too.” You smile, and it’s not like your usual cocky grin. It’s sweet and almost… shy. 

“You love me, too?” Suna repeats in utter shock. He hadn’t expected to get this far.

“That’s what I just said,” you say. “What are you, a parrot? Speaking of which, though, I think that whole speech was the most I’ve ever heard you talk.” 

Suna doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes a step closer and pulls you in for a hug. A real hug, not like the hesitant embrace you’d given him on his birthday, or the side hug he gave you after running into you at the grocery market a few weeks ago. No, this is a true, bona fide hug, and he translates everything he’s ever wanted to tell you but couldn’t into his arms wrapping around your waist. 

“So… wanna come in and watch a movie?” 

+

A little while later, Suna’s stretched out on your mattress with you between his legs, chin resting on the top of your head. You’ve changed out of your dress and wiped the makeup from your face, and Suna catches you yawning in the corner of his eye. There’s a trashy romcom droning on your laptop at the foot of the bed. To any outside onlooker, the scene is mundane, just a typical couple enjoying each other’s company. To Suna, though, this is paradise. 

It’s almost funny. It’s funny how, a week ago, Suna was a boy pining for a girl he thought he had no chance with. He looked at you and saw something unattainable, someone who would only ever want him temporarily. (And, unbeknownst to him, you felt the same way.) He experienced an overwhelming amount of want, heart knotting in on itself and twisting and turning until it pushed him over the edge, forcing him to confront his own desires. His own inadequacies. 

It’s funny how love is what everyone longs for, but it’s also the hardest reward to earn. It’s the most uncomfortable, heart-wrenching, nerve-wracking, anxiety-inducing pathway to happiness Suna’s ever seen. But still… he’d do it all over again if he had to. The months of headaches, the overthinking. It’s worth it. You’re worth it. 

Oh, well. What can he say? Suna leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to your temples, and you tilt your head up to smile at him. Love’s a funny thing. 

Fortunately, Suna’s always down for a good joke.

[ddosie]

# 2 and soobin for the prompt please!

you wouldn't say you were the sentimental type.

things came and went. kids grew into adults. that was just how life was. people grew apart, sometimes closer, and it was all expected.

you just never thought you would have to face it yourself.

it was a problem that you had only read about in story books. the handmaiden watches the price she fell in love with get married. she moves on. the king lets go of the memories of his favorite knight. he moves on. the queen loses her son, her only son. she moved on.

they all moved on. so why couldn't you?

"class! class! let's start this school year by introducing ourselves! i'll go first. my name is ms. hilton, and i'm your english teacher for this year! i've worked at this school for a long time now, and i can't wait to teach all of you kids!

okay, now that i've done my introduction, shall we go along the classroom and introduce ourselves? starting from you sir, yes you with the white and black sneakers. please start by telling us your name and a fun fact about yourself."

you watched as the said boy stood up, pushing his hair back with his hand.

"uh... hi everyone, i'm soobin, and one fun fact about me is i went to Europe this year."

as the next person got up to introduce themselves, you found yourself staring at him.

jeez, he was tall for a middle schooler.

the sun is filtering through the blinds in your room, and rays of light are being painted across the walls. everything is a golden color, from the desk to the bedside.

"so... what topic are we choosing for this project?" you watched through the lens of your glasses as soobin furrowed his brow.

"do you think, maybe aristotle?" you nodded your head eagerly, so soobin stood up and walked over to the teachers desk. a second later he sent you a thumbs up.

"aristotle it is."

you twirled your pen in your fingers as soobin took a seat. "hey do you want to work on the project with me over the weekend? i know a really good café...?"

there was a small smile on your face, and you nodded.

"yeah sure, what time?"

you got up from your chair, grabbing a camera. in this lighting, the room was just too pretty to not take a picture of.

"y/n, for someone of that height, there is no reason you should be walking that fast."

you sent a small smile to the long-legged boy trying to catch up with you in the hallway.

"if you don't want to be late to class bin, you're going to have to put those legs to work."

you let soobin catch up with you, and you slowed down your pace from thereon so the two of you could walk side by side. soobin pointed at the trophy shelf.

"do you think we'll win this year too? i hope we do, yeonjun promised a party at his house if we get placed first."

you gave soobin a reassuring pat on his arm.

"you'll be finneee... if you win, i'll take you out to icecream after."

the boy turned to look at you, a smile creeping into his eyes.

"really?"

"really."

fiddling around with the camera, you brushed the light dust that had collected on the top off. you watched as the particles were swept away, dancing in the dying sunlight.

"we should do this every year."

you turned to look at soobin lying next to you, ice-cream sandwhich in one hand, while the other was tucked behind him, supporting his head. he was looking above, admiring the night sky.

"you mean climb some random apartment stairs to get to rooftops? and risk our lives every season game to see a different view of the city at night?"

soobin let out a small laugh. "yeah, well when you put it that way, it does sound bad." you smiled, lying down with your own ice-cream sandwich, propping an arm under your head.

"...i meant the icecream tradition. you'll be there for my next season game, right?"

now it was your turn to admire the night sky.

"of course. i wouldn't miss it for the world"

grabbing a tissue, you went to work at the camera, cleaning dust from all crevices and corners of the lenses. you were surprised. when was the last time you had even taken a photo on this thing?

"hey bin, what's up?"

grabbing your phone and placing it on your desk, you made yourself comfortable, ready for any facetime tea he would spill.

"ah, y/n..." you watched as he ran a hand through his hair from the other side of the screen. "i don't think... i don't think i'll be able to make it to your birthday this year."

there was a quiet silence. you felt like you'd been punched in the gut.

"if i can ask, um, why?" you fiddled with the hem of your hoodie, waiting for an answer.

"the schedules for the basketball game lineups just came out, and the final season game is happening on your birthday. i just wanted to tell you in case we do win that far and i won't be able to come."

you decided to smile at the way soobin had said just in case they win. the two of you were in your sophomore year, and he hadn't lost a game since middle school.

"yeah, don't worry about it soob. we can still get icecream after."

you felt a turn in your stomach when the boy gave you a relived smile, running a hand through his hair again.

"that's all i wanted to say, i've got to go now"

"hm? why?"

"chem tutoring. these freshman are horrible at science."

adjusting the camera, you zoomed in on random objects in your room. the bookshelf. your water bottle. the lamp. click. click. click.

“did you hear? that senior yeonjun will be throwing a bigger party than last year! are you going y/n?”

you shrugged. “when is it?”

“I think it‘ll be this saturday.”

"can’t. I’ll be out of town”

"for what?

“college. I sent an early application, and one of them reached out and wants me to tour the campus. if i go, I’ll have a guaranteed spot next year, and I probably won’t have to apply to any others.”

your friend let out a low whistle and patted your head.

"well when you put it like that, I guess you really can’t go… but maybe we could get something after the game? i heard the ice cream place was still open”

just like that, a mere sentence felt like a silent punch to the gut.

you looked away from your friends face, scanning the cafeteria unknowingly. you were met with the view of a senior tussling soobin's hair, an arm slung across his neck. you could hear their loud conversation even from where you were sitting.

"you coming to my house after the game? me and the guys we're planning to get some icecream and stay over at my house for the night."

you thought you saw something flash in soobins eye's before he smiled, nodding in agreement.

abruptly standing up, you tossed an apology to your friend about how you wouldn't be able to make it and you had just remembered you had some important emails to send. you didn't want to be around when the words of confirmation came out of his mouth itself.

so much for a flash. the last time you had icecream with him was two years ago.

adjusting the lens once more, you caught your eye on a ticket stuck between two books on your desk. you slowly pulled it out. it was blue and grey, your school colors. there was a hole punched on the bottom, indicating it was used.

"and it's the last two minutes of the game, and hybe high is in the lead! if they can make this basket, it will guarantee a regional win for the school. oh! there goes hyunjin... passing to donghyuck who... also just passed to eric who, jeez, passed to soobin...! look at that! look at that!! we are in the last minute everyone, and if captain of hybe high makes this basket, like i said they will be the regional winners!!"

you let the sound of the announcer wash over you, leaning forward in your seat to watch the game.

for some reason you kept coming back. to this gym. to the basketball games.

to soobin.

it had been over a year since the two of you had really talked, the last icecream run being well over three years ago (a promise to go before your birthday was conveniently broken), and the last facetime was to ask for calculus answers.

you knew that you had faded out of the life of the star basketball player.

you just couldn't accept it.

"and soobin gets closer to the rim... oh! it looks like taehyun from bighit acadmy is a pretty good blocker... anyways look at him go! we have twenty second left, and even if he doesn't score hybe is still in for a win... okay, okAY?? WAIT WHAT!! WHAT!!"

there's a loud screech of the intercom that mixes with the cheers of the crowd. you found yourself on your feet, fists pumping in the air in celebration alongside the students in the bleachers despite yourself.

"AND CHOI SOOBIN SECURES THE PLACE OF HYBE HIGH IN DISTRICT REGIONALS!! ONCE AGAIN THE ACE HAS TOPPED EVERYONE AND BRANG HIS TEAM TO VICTORY!!"

you held the ticket tenderly. on the backside was stamped senior, a marker that counted as a discount for the upperclassmen that wanted to watch the game. flipping it over again, you felt a wave of something hit your stomach as you took in the grey and blue.

"hey y/n, wait up!"

you whipped around at the sound of an all too familiar voice.

there, stood soobin, in all his six foot and one inch glory.

"you.." he panted, hands on his knees as if he had run a million miles. "you walk too fast. what's the rush? you were cheering for me so loudly."

there was that feeling again. of being punched in the gut. by that invisible hand that seemed to favor your stomach whenever soobin was around.

"ah, you know... just getting home."

you tried not to stare too long. soobin had grown, matured. the baby face he donned as a middle schooler was gone, only his dimples a reminder of the childhood smiles you shared together.

"you're not... going anywhere? going straight home?"

you gave him a small smile. "...yeah. i'm going soon, so i really need to pack. good game though! you really did good this time around."

"going soon... to where y/n? are you taking a road trip without me?" you sensed a wary tone under his teasing words. three years apart, and this was the news you would have to tell him. curse the fates.

"yup! im, ah... moving cross country. i got accepted a while back."

you could already see the question in his eyes. how far? which major? on campus or near?

why didn't you tell me?

there was a moment of silence while you rocked back and forth on your heels. soobin pushed his hair back, looking into your eyes.

the heaviness of a thousand unanswered questions weighed in the air.

"so... want to catch up over icecream?"

as you held the basketball ticket from senior year, you realized three things.

one: you were the sentimental type. you clung onto old memories and good times like they were life jackets, keeping you afloat in the mundanity of your new life.

two: you didn't really like the idea of always moving on. it seemed so easy in the story books, that after a couple years the queen goes back to her ordinary life, the king appoints a new knight, and the princess finds someone she truly loved. but was there a time where you would just stop caring? was there a day you would wake up and didn’t think about what could have happened, the if only’s and what if’s?

three: you couldn't move on. you prided yourself on being able to move faster, walking a pace before everyone else. life was a journey, and you were going places. quite literally. you were floating when everyone was sinking.

but you were only floating because you had your life jacket.

...

things came and went. kids grew into adults. that was just how life was. people grew apart, sometimes closer, and it was all expected.

you clutched the ticket in your hand, the end slightly wrinkled by your fingers.

you just never thought you would have to face it yourself.

[eternally-writing]

chain reaction 02 | jjk

genre: fluff and angst 

rating: PG 

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: college!au , enemies to lovers, series 

word count: 4.6k

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: A semester with your mortal enemy, Jeon Jungkook, as your lab partner was bound to be an experience to remember. 

banner by me!

read part 1 here! 

 If you want to be tagged in future parts, send me an ask! 

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

When you had imagined what Jeon Jungkook’s apartment would look like, you had definitely thought it would look something like an evil lair (except messy, because Jungkook definitely struck you as the messy type). 

However, upon stepping into his surprisingly well-finished apartment, you found the exact opposite case. Before this, you had planned to make a ton of jokes based on whatever you would find in Jungkook’s apartment. And the truth was, you still could. 

Jeon Jungkook was an absolute neat freak. You watched the way he subtly shuddered as a fleck of dirt from your shoes travelled off of his doormat and you took note of how his kitchen counter was so clean you could probably eat directly off of it (which was especially rare from someone in college). If he had a roommate, there was no trace of him right now, as the apartment pretty much looked like a showhome.

“I didn’t know you were such a clean freak, Jeon,” you said with a smirk.

For the first time, you saw Jeon Jungkook look the slightest bit timid. 

“I like to keep things tidy, I guess,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. 

He gestured for you to enter his quaint but somehow spacious living room as he sped to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water (he may not like you, but he’d be damned by his mother if she found out he let a guest into his place without giving them a beverage).

You had a very clear game plan when it came to entering Jeon Jungkook’s apartment: Enter. Talk about the project (and nothing else). Grab the chemistry notes from the class you missed on Monday. Leave. 

It definitely seemed like an easy peasy 4 step plan  -  except that all seemed to flow out the window once you saw the photo Jungkook kept on his coffee table. From what you could decipher, it looked like a high school aged Jungkook in a music studio, right in front of the mic, with some of his friends around him. You had never seen Jungkook smile as big as he was in that picture, and it even managed to pull at your heartstrings.

Before you could open your mouth to ask about it, Jungkook had already come over to you and slammed the picture to be face down on the table, leaving smiley high school Jungkook out of sight. 

“An invitation into my apartment isn’t an invitation into my private life, Y/N. Don’t get it twisted.” he said coldly, dropping the glass of water hashly onto a coaster by the picture frame. 

To be fair, you kind of deserved that (and looking into Jungkook’s personal life definitely wasn’t part of your 4 step plan to seeing him today), but he didn’t have to be that mean.  As a peace offering you moved as far away from the photo frame as you could.

“Let’s just get this over with, Jeon. I have a pilates class in an hour on the other side of campus.”

Now Jungkook couldn't pass up that opportunity to make a joke. 

“Pilates, mmm.”  He let out an overexaggerated moan to make his point. 

“ Think you can slip my number to the hot girls there Y/N,” said Jungkook with a smirk. 

“In your dreams Jeon. You’re lucky if any girls will still want your number if you fail organic chemistry, which is what you’re going to do if we don’t work on this project.”

“I think you’re forgetting Y/N.” he said as he bent down, bringing his lips to your ear - “if I go down I’m taking you with me sunshine”. 

Ignoring how his close proximity to you was making your heart race (it was probably due to anger, right??), you jumped away from him and pulled out your macbook.

“Our group contract is due tomorrow so let’s just finish that up and then I’ll be out of your hair okay?” you said with an air of desperation and potentially sexual frustration.

For the most part, you and Jungkook worked in silence besides the occasional sound of you typing or clearing your throat. Looking at the live google doc in front of you and the progress you both were making, you were starting to think that working with Jungkook might not be the worst thing in the world. 

Jeon Jungkook and Y/N L/N : CHEM 251 LAB PRESENTATION CONTRACT

Topic - Green Chemistry 

1. Answer all communication from your partner (emails, messages) within 24 hours

2. Complete all portions of assignments at least 1 day before it is due. 

3. Any changes to your availability should be communicated to your partner. 

4. Y/N will handle the background literature and introduction of the presentation. 

5. Jungkook will look for future applications of Green Chemistry and direct applications of course material in the field of Green Chemistry. 

6. Don’t fall in love with your partner. 

As soon as you saw Jungkook type the last point on the document, you glared at him beside you on the couch. 

“Seriously Jeon? I forgot you have the mindset of a 13 year old boy,” you muttered as he looked at you cockily. 

You took a deep breath as your internal monologue started to run: 

Okay, Y/N. you’re not here to let Jeon Jungkook mess with you. 3 strikes and you’re out of here - there’s no reason to need to keep up with his bullshit (especially since at least the first part of your project was over).

Jungkook had then had to add more rules to your group contract. 

7. Y/N will give out Jungkook’s number to any hot girl at her pilates class. 

You groaned and hastily deleted off the document. 

That was strike 1 for Jungkook. 3 strikes and he’s out. 

Jungkook was still relentless in his attacks. 

“Seriously though Y/N, do you really not think I’m attractive at all? You really don’t want a piece of this?,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows and gestured to his body all too suggestively. 

“Cut it out Jeon, I’m not dealing with your shit today,” you hissed, your eyes shooting metaphorical lasers into Jungkook. 

Strike 2: He’s getting close. 

“C’mon Y/N, what’s the chance that you’ll ever be able to bag someone as hot as me. I mean, look at me and look at you!”

Strike 3: you were DONE  with Jeon Jungkook today.

Not even stopping to put on your shoes fully, you took one last glance back at him before you walked out the door. 

“Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook.”

The glass of water he got you sat untouched on his coffee table, drops of water spilling onto the photo frame beside it due to his apartment shaking from you slamming his door.

Mirroring the new droplets on his coffee table, you found tears starting to drop across your face as well. 

--♡--

Even though you loved your chemistry lecture, you’re not sure why chemistry labs had such a bad vibe to you. The most obvious explanation for this would be having Jeon Jungkook as a lab partner (especially after your last meeting, the situation speaks for itself). But what could be is probably at least part of the reason is because of what happened in your first year 8AM chem lab. After getting through a grueling 3 hour titration (that you messed up and got no results for in the end), you walked back to your dorm to find your (now ex) boyfriend Jimin in bed with your roommate, Soomi. 

Needless to stay you left that day with one less friend, no boyfriend (and you had also gotten 16/30 on that lab… yikes), so chemistry labs did leave a little bit of a bad taste in your mouth. 

It had been months since that incident, but even after getting a new lease and cutting any ties you remotely had to Jimin, you still carried the insecurity that Jimin instilled in you by cheating on you with someone who you thought of as a sister. 

You had yet to run into Jimin against post-breakup, and had managed to successfully avoid him, until now.

“Y/N?” 

You knew that voice all too well. Turning around, you were met with the sight of your ex, Jimin. As if that wasn’t bad enough, as you looked him over you noticed your old roommate, Soomi, hanging off of his arm. You had no clue that they were still together (you had lost all contact with anyone remotely related to Jimin), and somehow seeing them together hurt you even more. 

Jimin looked even prettier than you had last remembered him; his prince-like hair shone in the afternoon sun, his charming smile seemed even brighter. Knowing Jimin was still with Soomi made you feel that he didn’t even feel a pang of regret for cheating on you, like he didn’t need to take some time by himself to reflect (like you definitely did) or stop to grieve your relationship. From your point of view, it seemed like you never even mattered to Jimin. 

You suddenly felt self conscious of everything under the judgmental gazes of Jimin and Soomi. Those baby hairs that you didn’t bother to pin down with a bobby pin this morning now felt like they were sticking straight out of your head and the pimple that was poking through your concealer on your forehead suddenly felt like a volcano. In your mind, compared to Soomi, you looked like a hot mess.

Your brain was on autopilot for all the small-talk you made with the two of them, and you didn’t snap out of your trance until you heard these words from Jimin. 

“I only wish the best for you Y/N”

You internally scoffed at this statement. Who the fuck was Park Jimin to say that he “wishes the best for you”. You took months to get over him and the hurtful words he said to you. Every mean comment and snarky comparisons he made to you felt like it was tattooed onto your skin and stuck with you forever. But now he was standing in front of you like nothing was wrong?

In a different world, you probably would’ve slapped Jimin across the face. But instead you rose above like your mom taught you to. 

“You as well Jimin.” you said courtly with a nod, trying to stop the tears that were pricking at your eyes from escaping your tear ducts. 

After receiving a small nod from Jimin as a response, you turned around as if you had somewhere to be (in reality, you didn’t have class for another 2 hours).

Getting as far away from Jimin was all you could think about at the moment, and you moved as far as your legs could take you in whatever direction you thought would take you out of your college’s quad, even as the tears falling from your eyes blurred your vision.

You didn’t know how to feel. You had imagined what seeing Jimin for the first time after the break up would look like; maybe he would grovel at his knees and beg to have you back (it’s not that you wanted to date him again or that you had feelings for him, but it would feel nice to feel wanted), maybe you would just throw a drink in his face and walk away like a bad bitch, maybe you could’ve flashed a new boyfriend in front of his face. 

All of a sudden your phone started to ring.  Your first fear (and somewhat hope) was that it would be Jimin calling you, but little did you know that it was something so much worse.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

“as if this day couldn’t get any worse,” you thought to yourself as you pressed decline. You had yet to talk to Jungkook since that day at his apartment (you didn’t even call to congratulate him on his 

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

You groaned and hit the decline but at the speed of lightning again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

Seriously, could this guy not take a hint? You were tempted to turn your phone off all together, but settled for hitting the decline button again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

You realized that for whatever reason, Jungkook was not giving up, so you either had to answer him or listen to your ringtone of “Love Killa” by Monday X play every 10 seconds. Praying that your voice wouldn’t betray you, you took a deep (albeit shaky) breath and tried your best to wipe your tears before clicking “answer”.

“Look Jeon, I’m - uh - sorry but I really can’t do this right now okay? I’ll call you later.” you choked out, your voice obviously wavering as you tried to be as professional as possible. 

Before you could press the “end call button” you heard Jungkook’s concerned voice through the speakers.

“Y/N, wait, you don’t sound too good. Are you okay?”

Ah yes, “are you okay” - probably the most loaded question a person could ever ask. 

You probably could’ve kept it together if he had asked any other question, but his “are you ok” truly pulled at your heartstrings.

You felt your chest tightening but you tried your best to help the feeling subside. You had yet to show weakness about how Jimin had affected you to anyone, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start with Jeon Jungkook. Clutching at your chest and taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm your racing heart, you continued on. 

“Is that genuine concern I’m hearing from you Jeon? Be careful, you’re losing your bad boy persona,” you said as you tried to make a joke to distract him. 

“Y/N, no. I’m serious. are. you. okay.”

You couldn’t handle it anymore. Sobs broke free from your chest and you heaved into the phone, your whimpers and whines striking Jungkook on the other side of the phone. 

“I, I can’t- I just-“

The words barely broke through your sobs. Your chest was tightening and you could barely hear Jungkook through the ringing in your ears. 

“Y/N where are you, I’m coming’” said Jungkook. You could hear the jingling of his car keys and the rustling of him putting on shoes. 

As if mother nature felt your pain, the rain started pouring down on you at the same time.

You barely got out any more words to Jungkook,  but he didn’t hang up on you. He just kept whispering comforting phrases, trying to calm you down from afar as you could hear his car engine roaring in the background (in another world, you definitely would’ve yelled at him for using his phone while driving). You barely even registered that Jungkook was there at all. Every memory of you and Jimin seemed to reopen like a fresh wound, and you couldn’t feel anything except the pain. All you could do was sit on a random curb by the edge of campus, your wails probably reaching the sorority houses nearby. 

You felt broken. The sound of the thunder overhead mixed with your cries as the rain pelted you, soaking your thin sweatshirt. You don’t know how much time passed there. In your head, it felt like time was frozen, while for Jungkook it felt like he was wasting hours zooming through campus (he truly was zooming - a month later he found out that he had accumulated 3 speeding tickets trying to find you, but he would never tell you that).

“Oh, sunshine,” he murmured, voice laced with pity and concern as he pulled over his car on the curb in front of you. 

You and Jungkook hadn’t even said a word to each other since the feud at his apartment, and you had absolutely zero clue how he even managed to figure out where you were through your jumbled phone call. But all you knew is that right now you needed him. You needed someone to give you a bit of comfort, and Jungkook was somehow here to do that for you. Despite everything between you twom you couldn’t hide the feeling of relief that ran through your body as you looked up and saw Jungkook in front of you.

Coming to your side, Jungkook crouched beside you. 

“Jungkook”, you wept as he pulled you into his chest. It was probably one of the first times you had actually addressed him by his first name, which came as a surprise to him. 

Holding you closer, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel protective over you. He couldn’t help but hurt with you as he saw your fragile figure shaking in his arms. 

“You’re gonna be okay now Y/N, okay? I’m here. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”  

And in that moment, on a dirty curbside off campus, you weren’t Jeon boy and little miss sunshine,  mortal enemies and chemistry lab partners. Instead, you were just Jeon Jungkook and Y/N., and nothing else seemed to matter at the moment.

--♡--

To your surprise (and the surprise of anyone else who knows you), you and Jungkook had not been stepping on each other’s toes as much. What had started out as extreme, extreme dislike had turned into a mild dislike (maybe even a very slight enjoyment of his presence, although you weren't about to admit that anytime soon). And of course, you both refuse to acknowledge the “Jimin incident” that had occurred a week ago and you both refuse to believe that it may have had something to do with you and Jungkook not hating each other. Your emails stopped being signed off with “do your part Jeon, or else” and instead now usually started with “Hey Jeon!” and “Thanks, Y/N”

That brought you here, in your apartment on a Friday night, eating old pizza in an old sweatshirt, no bra, and some comfy shorts that had definitely been through the wash one too many times. Researching for your chemistry project, you chuckled at how much of a londer you would look to an outsider. Sending off the articles you found on Green Chemistry to Jungkook, you closed out the email with some casual pleasantries and then turned to continue rewatching episodes of your favourite kdrama. You definitely weren’t expecting a response from Jungkook until Monday. You were sure that someone like him was at a frat party (was he even in a frat? You had no idea). Either way, Jungkook probably was lounging around in some party house with like 6 girls on his arms, while you were doing quite the opposite. 

Surprisingly, Jungkook was actually doing quite a similar thing to you. Instead of watching kdramas, he was watching Iron Man (for what was probably the 50th time), and was huddled under a makeship blanket fort like a child and scrolling through reddit. Don’t be mistaken though, Jeon Jungkook was definitely a partier, but he also knew when he needed to give his head (and liver) a break.

He saw his phone chime with a gmail notification. He took a brief scroll through the articles you had sent over to him (those were definitely work for another day since there was no way he could digest academic jargon without at least 3 cups of coffee in him), but he was pleasantly surprised with what you had come up with. 

At the same time, the Facebook tab he had open on his Macbook also lit up. 

It’s Y/N L/N’s birthday today! Leave a message on her wall to celebrate!

Jungkook’s jaw dropped. 

It was your birthday and you were sending him chemistry research papers?? Jungkook chuckled because he could already think of 1000 bad jokes to make fun of you, but he also felt some other feeling that he couldn’t quite place.  

Jungkook’s mother had always taught him that it was important to celebrate birthdays, and that is was bad luck that it was  He wasn’t sure if it was just a farce that his mother had come up with to make sure that he still attended those family-wide facetime birthday celebrations once he went to college, but either way, he still believed it to some extent. 

He had no clue why he was doing this, or how he even got here, but somehow Jungkook found himself in sweatpants and a hoodie in front of your apartment door at 10pm on a Friday night, cake in tow in one hand, his other hand out ready to knock on your door. 

On the other side of the door, you were equally astonished. It almost felt like you were seeing a hallucination, as if your email to Jungkook had somehow summoned him to your door. You couldn’t help but rub your eyes in disbelief, just to make sure he was actually there. 

“Jungkook?”

Bashful Jungkook seemed to make an appearance again as he tapped his feet in anxiety. And before he could stop himself, words were already tumbling from his mouth”

“Happy birthday?” he said as a question , posing it as if he didn’t know whether facebook was just playing a prank on him (which he honestly didn’t know). “Can I come in?”

You didn’t even really know how to process this situation, but all you could mutter was a “uh, thank you?” in a similar inquirable tone and gesture for him to step into your apartment. If Jeon Jungkook showed up at your door at 10pm on a Friday night, he probably deserved to be heard out.

“You can make yourself comfortable on the couch. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company otherwise I would have cleaned up a bit.”  You were sure that Jungkook’s neat freak brain was probably frying itself into overdrive based on the empty now-empty pizza box sitting on your coffee table and stray utensils and crumbs on your kitchen counter. You felt a little embarrassed that he had to see this.

Mirroring Jungkook’s hospitality last time you were at his place, you brought him a glass of water and hoped that this evening would go a LOT better than the last time you and Jungkook were alone together in an apartment. 

Jungkook’s cake was still held in his hands. It was a little cake from the 24/7 cafe on campus; he could only find one that said “happy” with little sunflowers and smiles, so hopefully the “birthday” part of it was implied. 

“I, um, I brought cake - for you. I mean your birthday.”

You sat down across from him. 

“Oh you didn’t have to Jungkook, uh that’s really nice but you didn’t have to do that,” you said as you leaned further away from the cake, as if it was an item that scared you. “I’m not big on birthdays anyways, just usually me chilling in my apartment!” 

However, Jungkook was not planning on taking no as an answer. He tried his best to plead with you, but was still getting nowhere. 

“you… you have to do it for my mom!” he said as he thrust the cake even closer to your face. 

You tilted your head in confusion at his statement. 

“I mean uh-, my mom says that it’s bad luck if you don’t blow out candles on cake on your birthday and that if you don’t do it then you won’t live to your next birthday. And um- i know we’re not friends Y/N but I’d rather see you alive next year”.

 Jungkook tried to look as nonchalant and cool as possible, and when he realized his statement was a little too thoughtful he followed it up with a “i mean you could do whatever you want i don’t care it doesn’t matter to me”. 

You were beginning to like this side of Jungkook, the one that was more thoughtful than he was a selfish, inconsiderate dude.

Taking the cake softly from his hands, you muttered a soft “thank you”. At this point Jungkook didn’t know whether you took it from his hands to throw it on the ground or actually use it for its intended purpose. As you leaned over to grab the lighter by your candles on your coffee table, Jungkook let out a breath of relief. 

Throwing open the cake box, you lit the candle in the cake and stared patiently in front of it. 

“Well Jungkook, I believe if I am going to be blowing out candles there should be singing too, no?” You joked with a silly smile on your face. 

Knowing he had no way out of this (and to be honest, he secretly wanted to anyways), he began to sing. 

You had never heard a more beautiful rendition of happy birthday in your life. Jungkook turned the most mundane song, one that you didn’t have many happy memories with, into a tune that made your heart start to swell with joy. You wished the song was longer, because as he stopped to sing you wanted nothing more than for him to keep going. 

“Make a wish, Y/N” , he whispered. 

You didn’t know what to wish for. There were a lot of things that needed to be fixed in the world, and lots of things that you needed too (like a new toothbrush, or the experience of true love). It seemed fitting that since you were only blowing out these candles because of Jungkook, you should at least dedicate the wish to him. So all you wished for was for you and Jungkook to get along just like you were in this moment. 

You looked up at Jungkook from the cake, and from there all you could say was a sincere “thank you”.

The moment was all too sincere, and you and Jungkook could feel the atmosphere shift to one that was all too intimate and friendly for your relationship. As moving away from a hot flame, you both picked up your phones and mumbled excuses to move away from the situation. 

Jungkook was the first to break the ice again. 

“I don’t know how good this cake is going to be, the expiry date was at least a week and a half ago”

“Well Jeon Jungkook, if you brought an expired cake into my apartment, it feels like a right of passage that you have to try this cake with me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from picking up a piece of cake on a fork and shoving it into his mouth. Immediately, his face scrounged up in disgust, and you could pretty much see him gag. 

“That cream is… very creamy to stay the least,” he said as he thickly swallowed it down, grimacing the whole time. 

His expression made you chuckle. There was something about the way his naturally fluffy hair seemed to move as he swayed like a piece of seaweed on your couch (a mannerism that you had picked up on quite quickly), that made you feel warm inside.

“Considering me sacrificing myself to this cake as a birthday present to you, Y/N” 

The laugh that bubbled out of your chest almost made that gross cake worth it to Jungkook. And some words of sincerity slipped out before you could hold them in. 

“Best birthday present ever, Jungkook, thank you.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

Taglist: @apollukee , @mrcleanheichou , @monvieesdaebak 

If you want to be tagged, please send me an ask! 

 If you liked what you read, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

[cno-inbminor]

a/n: drabble dump for our boy kuroo -- i love him loads and think about him endlessly. i also apologize beforehand for the awkward ending bc i’m terrible at ending things. hope you all enjoy! gonna go knock back a melatonin and sleep my wooziness away

w/c: ~2.4k; some angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol

you’re avoiding tetsurou, and he’s keen on figuring out why. college!au, friends to lovers.

“you’re not as slick as you think, y’know.”

instantly, a shiver creeps up your spine, electrifying you in quick, tiny bursts. those eight, nine words were more than enough to let you know who was standing behind you, peering over your shoulder in an effort to catch your gaze. his voice made your heart clench and lungs fight for oxygen – you begin to curse the high, intellectual level of tetsurou’s observational skills. you just wanted to make it another day without seeing his face outside of class, opting more for longer walks and just looking back to see the back of his stylishly mussed hair in the far distance. it frustrates you how much you’ve used the word ‘infuriating’ when it comes to him, but there’s no other better word you can think of without having to consult the thesaurus.

you have a few seconds to dart your eyes around, desperately searching for a way to escape. your productivity typically thrives within the library, but he’s always there, so with lots of pleading and promises of baked goods and decent coffee, you were able to borrow a close friend’s ID, a graduate student, and access the graduate resource room in a less traveled hallway. and in the expanse of that area, you’ve tucked yourself away into the back corner behind some shelves where almost no one visits. but it leaves you cornered and vulnerable – no matter which direction, in combination with his long legs, tetsurou would catch up to you in a heartbeat. you thought you had finally found a way to permanently escape his grasp, but apparently not.

much like you, he’s not supposed to be able to access this area. after all, you’re both senior undergrads so –

“how did you get in here?” you quietly hiss. you’re pretty sure you’d be booted out if you made any sound above 15 decibels, and you’re not about to let tetsurou ruin this haven for you.

there’s a rustle of clothing, a hand that rests on the back of your seat, and the hairs on the nape of your neck spike, before a delicate whisper informs, “you’re not the only one with grad student friends, love.”

if you weren’t so focused on keeping yourself rigid, body absolutely understanding of the effect that this man has on you, you definitely would’ve shivered from the proximity. but the gentleness in his tone sends you back to three weeks ago – you’re no longer under a fluorescent light tucked between cream-colored walls, but rather basked in a somewhat garish hue of crimson. your veins were tinged with alcohol, the substance leaving you feeling like you were on clouds, a silly smile breaking across your face uncontrollably. other bodies surrounded you but the only one you were focused on was the one in front of you, following your swaying movements to the beat of the music coming through someone’s speakers. even in the warmth of the house, tetsurou’s hands on your waist seared your skin, branding the feeling on you for eternity. his eyes twinkled with apparent affection, unbridled and screaming at you for you to understand the line he wanted to so desperately cross, that the alcohol pushed it behind his efforts to deny himself the one thing he’s been searching for in all these years.  

“i’m a little drunk, but fuck, you have no idea how bad i wanna kiss you,” he had murmured just loud enough into your ear, then ghosting his lips over the shell of it. everything around you dissolved into a blur as you could only focus on his breaths and the tightening of his grasp on you. his confession wasn’t completely unwarranted – not at all.

tetsurou and you had met in the quantitative analysis lab freshman year, having been assigned as partners for the semester just by how the ta’s drew the seating chart. he was a friendly, kind soul – had saved your ass multiple times from overshooting your titrations, prevented multiple beakers and graduated cylinders from falling over, always down to compare numbers to help ensure that neither of you were fucking up too hard.

coincidentally, the two of you were registered to the same ochem lab the next year and immediately gravitated towards each other, grateful to find some familiarity in all the anxiety. he witnessed your breakdown mid-lab, did his best to comfort you and salvage your sample so there was enough for recrystallization because you somehow got landed with a shitty, leaking separatory funnel, and stayed back with you when you had fallen behind in the cleanup process. from then on, it was a weekly habit to study together and work on your lab journals and reports together, not taking long to become close friends.

tetsurou did his best to keep his growing feelings at bay, knowing that you had explicitly mentioned swearing off relationships as you tried to figure out your future first. he wasn’t oblivious enough to think that you didn’t feel anything for him whatsoever – you were stubborn and tenacious at best. the house party at miya atsumu’s was simply a suggestion for the both of you to relax after a brutal midterm in your inorganic chemistry course, to let loose and treat yourself. he really hadn’t meant to say what he said, but just looked so good, so lovely and beautiful and enthralling, and you were looking at him like he hung the stars and moon in the sky – he knows he’s sent that same look to you multiple times when you weren’t looking, completely sober and unfazed.

he couldn’t stop himself from leaning close into you that night and you hadn’t stopped in – he knows he should’ve resisted, but feeling your soft lips against his was easily one of the top ten highlights of his college career, and his love for you only surged beyond his hold, overwhelming him to the point where all he could think about was nothing but holding your cheek in the palm of his hand so he could get a better angle and let himself indulge just this once.

that’s all it was – kissing and kissing in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor until there was no more oxygen left in either of your lungs. like a decent human being, he dropped you off at your apartment and bid you goodnight, hoping that you wouldn’t forget all the events that had transpired. and maybe, just maybe, he wished that you would let it happen again, that you could make him the exception in your plans.

evidently, you did remember it, because suddenly your responses to his texts were delayed and dry. you were picking up extra shifts, showing up to class at the very last minute, and leaving as soon as the professor dismissed you, allowing practically no room for him to make small talk. and while he would usually pass you in the halls of the chem building at some point, you were always too far from him and scurrying away in a different direction. tetsurou did his best to give you your space, but the less he saw of you, the more nervous and frustrated he grew. there was a wrench thrown into his daily routine, and your presence had always managed to bring some peace to him. so when he realized that you had truly abandoned your usual study spot in the library a week and a half later, he set himself on a mission to find out exactly where you were hiding.

it honestly had been sheer luck that he saw your figure ducking around into a hallway he’s never bothered to go down, and by the time he caught up, the door to the graduate resource room had just closed on your and there was no way he could get in without some help. luckily, his mentor who had stayed at the university for their phd was pretty nonchalant about letting him borrow it for a few days, preferring to study at home or in a coffee shop off-campus themselves.

he knew that since you were hiding, you were probably going to be in the most inconspicuous spot possible. so while there was some time dedicated to navigating the new maze of an area, he immediately felt a sense of relief when he saw your back hunched over your notes, hair tied up into a messy bun, and your laptop open with a spotify playlist.

after you’re done reminiscing, you begin to pack your stuff up, opting to just nor respond to tetsurou and ignoring the pleasant sensation that his term of endearment for you brought. he pulls back and stands straight to give you some room, but the tapping of his foot against the tile floor speaks to his blooming agitation at your silence. you’re still wordless as you weave between the shelves to the exit, knowing that the man plaguing your dreams is not far behind. the game of ‘follow the leader’ (or is it ‘cat and mouse’?) continues until you both have exited the main door, and right before you can walk down the granite steps, tetsurou seizes the opportunity to run ahead of you and stand in your way.

“tetsu, please,” you sigh, avoiding his piercing stare by fiddling with the sleeves of your jacket. “is there something you need?”

“you can’t play coy with me,” he chastises, bending down slightly in hopes that you’ll finally look at him. “you know why i’m here.”

it’s a bad habit of yours to nibble on the inside of your lips when you’re searching for the right things to say. tetsurou only picked up on it just last year – the action itself is very subtle to the outside viewer, and he hadn’t been paying close enough attention back then. “don’t bullshit me right now.”

“do we have to do this now?” you whine a bit.

“yes, or else i’m never gonna get you to talk to me. come on, you don’t do this, love.”

“what do you mean?”

“you’re running away. that’s pretty cowardly, don’t you think? you’ve had 3 weeks—”

you start to walk forward and around his tall, lanky figure. “i’m not humoring you with this—”

“with what—”

“—you’re doing that provoking thing, you’re trying to get me to think that i’m wrong in avoiding you—”

“so you have been avoiding me—”

“i said not now!” you protest in a raised voice, path once again blocked. tears of frustration are beginning to build in the corners of your eyes, and you’re cursing yourself for feeling so weak in this moment. part of you wants nothing more than to run into his arms.

it’s dead quiet for a few seconds – the ambient noise of the wind and the occasional passing car this late at night fail to make themselves known over the pounding of blood in your ears. only tetsurou’s first knuckle underneath your chin to raise you up grounds you, and you can no longer avoid his gaze. small crests of guilt wash over you as you recognize the uncharacteristic brokenness in his eyes – the last three weeks must’ve been much harder on him than you thought.

“just hear me out for a few minutes, okay? you can make your decision then.”

he takes your nod as a signal to continue, but also softening a bit at how nervous you look.

“i’m in love with you,” he softly confesses, a smile of defeat gracing his complexion. “and i have been for a while. i don’t think i’m bullshitting when i say i think you feel something for me, too, but i knew it wasn’t in your plans. didn’t wanna push or force you into making a decision when you weren’t ready. so i held back – but i couldn’t help it at the party, and…i’m sorry, love. i really am.”

tetsurou doesn’t miss the flash of hurt that crosses your eyes. “so does that mean you regret it?” you bite out, nails clenching and digging into the fabric of your jacket sleeves. he shakes his head.

“i don’t regret kissing you at all – it’s all i’ve wanted to do for the last two and a half years. but i’m just sorry that i did it without your explicit, sober permission. i went against your wishes in a time of vulnerability, and that’s pretty shitty of me – i’m not gonna excuse myself either just because i was a little drunk, so i hope you’re able to forgive me.”

he watches you sniffle and fight the grin that’s trying to creep across your face. “someone had their shot of respect women juice this morning, didn’t they?” you chokingly tease.

“five shots directly injected into my veins, every morning,” he jokes back, thumb sweeping over to catch your falling tears. “but i mean it though – i’m really sorry.”

“you’re forgiven, and i appreciate that more than you know. but if i’m being honest…it was something i’ve wanted to do for a while, too. i was just really scared because it was so unexpected and i wasn’t sure if i was ready for our relationship to change, or like if i would be emotionally available enough for you, y’know?” you blubber, hand reaching up to rest against his on your cheek.

“hey—”

“i really want this to work out.” tetsurou can hear your voice shake, and he’s sure you’re almost trembling. “you’re one of my best friends – i can’t lose you, tetsu. and what about grad school? what if we end up too far away from each other and video calls aren’t enough? what if you get tired of me or—”

“i know you hate it when i interrupt, but honestly (y/n), you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. i’m gonna do everything i can to make this work, too, mmk?”

“okay,” you whisper. “okay.”

his thumb gently sweeps back and forth against your cheek for a little bit before speaking up again. “not to ruin the moment, but do i have permission to kiss you now?” his eyes shine despite the midnight sky, and you can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your chest.

tetsurou swears up and down that your kiss in response is much, much sweeter than the one at the party, and he can’t wait to see what the future holds for you two.

[aesthbaby]

Ghost

Summary: Do you remember the episode Demonology where we learned of Emily’s past? What if I told you, you were apart of it. After years of silence on her end, you end up meeting her again.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Prompt: here

Warnings: Cursing | Sadness | Typos

Word Count:

Masterlist

An: Dedicated to my hundredth follower. Ahhhh I'm too hype about this! I also made a slight change to the prompt but everything else is the same :)  Anon, I hope you enjoy.

Indignation

The screaming crawls up the walls of her oversized, child hood home to shake her ear drums. The thunder only adds fuel to the fire that is the rage possessed by both Prentiss’ as they continue their screaming match.

“Don’t you dare walk away when I’m talking to you!” Elizabeth’s voice matches the rain. The way she stomps behind her daughter looks almost comical.

“Back off mother.” She mumbles this more to herself than her mother.

She stops walking, planting her feet firmly on the Brazilian Chestnut flooring. “I will not ask you again.” She comes to a stop, takes a breath, and slowly turns to her mother. Not meeting her eyes, of course, because it’d hurt too much to see the hate in her eyes. “Look at me.” The mother growls. She slowly moves to meet her mothers eyes and finds nothing but rage there; energy matched to the thunder and rain outside. “You will not see that-” The derogatory term gets caught up in her throat.

Taking a step towards the elder, “What?” Daring to ask the question to which she already knows the answer. “What do you want to say mother?” Her jaw tightens, a sign that Emily knows all too well. “Spit it out.” Its taking everything in her not to raise her voice again and spew the word out for her mother.

Elizabeth takes a breath of her own before replying. “You are not to see that girl again or so help me, I will make sure she goes back to where she came from.” Before Emily could object, she speaks again. “That is final Emily.” Her voice holds strong, and suddenly the storm ceases its assault. 

All is quiet in the Prentiss house yet the tension remains; so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

Disregard

The next morning you arrive to school earlier than usual, but for good reason. Some random college hoodie wrapped loosely around your torso and a dainty neck tucked under it. Your school uniform has never fit you quite right because of how late in the year you transferred, you know...left overs. Phone is going absolutely crazy in your shirt pocket but now isn't the time, you’re looking for somebody. You’re looking for her. Mr. Ricci’s voice can be heard on your left, telling a group of guys its time for class. Emily...where the hell are you?

As the day progresses you still see no sign of the brunette until now. “Emily!” Running up to her you deliver a swift punch to her shoulder. “Where the hell have you been?” When her eyes meet yours they puffy, like she’s been crying. “Em- I-”

“First of all, ouch. Secondly, I can’t right now.” She turns to walk off with her lunch in hand, but you quickly pull her back by her elbow.

“You ‘can’t’ right now? What the hell is wrong with you?” Its taking everything in you not to become overtly emotional. “And where have you been?”

“Y/n I’m sorry but I really can’t right now.” She pulls away from your grip. Leaving you more confused than before.

You scuff at her wording. “You never calls me by my first name...” Its always been her thing, starting with a joke about how she has another friend by the same name as you so she had to call you something else. The next day was the same, avoiding you at all costs.

But it didn’t stop there.

It felt as though you were left on a physical manifestation of ‘read.’ Her name with the red heart emoji attached, did not pop up on your phone for what seemed to be months but in reality it had only been a few weeks. If she were to simply pick up the phone you would have been able to tell her about your unforeseen departure time. Due to sudden changes in international studies, you had to leave and the academy needed their student back. The one of which you exchange places with in January. Tears spring to your eyes at the thought of leaving. Not only are you leaving her, but also leaving this city you got to call home.

Sunny days always seem to appear at the wrong time, your departure day. She’s not here to see you off, hasn’t been around for a while. Can you really blame her? She doesn’t even know you’re leaving because she wont pick up the fucking phone. It doesn’t matter anymore, your time is up and so is her’s. A line of black and white kittens sprint across the cobblestone streets and that right there is what makes you break down in tears. Seeing the delicate kittens run after a mouse while tripping over their own feet. Random yellow flowers peaking through the stone which you’ve never known the actual name of. That one girl in Chem that would bake cookies for the class on Fridays. Your host dad taking you to his favorite café that served an increasing number of Cuban smokers. Going to eat gelato after homeroom with that one guy who would always make Golden Girls references. Then there was Emily, the girl that gave you a dainty gold necklace for valentines day. The girl that got a random jock to stop harassing you. The person whose lap you’d lay in on Saturday mornings at the park, is the same person who randomly started to ignore you. Maybe you could have fixed things with her if you had more time. You were supposed  to have until June but suddenly everything shifted and all you were told is that you needed to come home, promptly. You couldn’t wait for her any longer, not even sure why you thought she’d come in the first place. Casting one last glance over your shoulder before stepping into the buzzing airport.

At least meet me half way.

Hereafter

"I don’t think so.” You laugh at your friend’s proposition to set you up on a blind date. “I am absolutely content with the way I choose to live my life.” Shifting a bit on the new couch that hasn’t been broken in, resulting in the stiff cushions.

He lets out this weird scuffing noise. “No you’re not. Remember last weekend when we tried to pull an all-nighter but your sleep deprived brain betrayed you?” At your nonchalant shrug, he continues. “You started rambling about just wanting to find some well educated, fun loving, female in this world full of bureaucratic straight men. Your words, not mine.” You throw a pillow at him but he swiftly doges it. “But you couldn’t have said it better.” These recent years have been a series of unfortunate dates that have ended in you lying about having to leave early for something.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend you should be getting home to?”

“Not tonight, I’m all yours. Apparently she has her knitting circle tonight.”

“That's what you get for dating an older woman.” 

“Its a five year age difference! What is wrong with you people?”

You hold your hands up in defense. “Nothing, as long as you’re both legal and she’s good to you, its fine by me.”

“Shut up!” He screeches. “Oh shit, don’t you have a meeting in the morning?”

“Yes sir.” He stands to take your glasses and plates in the kitchen but you object. “Leave it,” At his confused expression, you continue. “Cleaning helps me relax so I figured I’ll wake up early so I can do that and reduce my stress levels by at least ten percent.”

“Dude, you’re seriously weird.”

“Say another bad thing about me and I'm sending you home.”

Throwing him a few pillows from the hallway closet and a comforter just for him to scream, “Its too hot in this cottage core apartment!”

Its not even cottage core themed?? Its just cozy with a plant or two. Am I expected to live in an ice cold home? I feel like he’s just saying this because I’m gay.

Your prepared outfit hands on the back of your bedroom door, mocking you. Making you reconsider the entire thing and simply not go but it feels as though you’d regret it if you didn’t. Maybe not, who knows?

And with that as your final though, you drift off to sleep.

You wake at the amazing time of 6 A.M to see your guest gone with a note on the couch:

I cleaned up the mess from last night and I also did the dishes in your sink. Not sure how u slept through all of that...I made a fruit salad for ur breakfast and a normal one for lunch.

Good luck with your meeting!

And one of those old fashioned emoticons at the bottom corner. Idiot.

You eat the food he left from the fridge, brush your teeth with the news playing in the background, and continue on with the normal morning routine.

Gathering your lunch and the little items you feel like you’d need, phone, charger, paper work, and keys; you know, the works. Finally heading out to your destination with nothing but ambition, you run into a slight problem. 

Overlapping breakfast with an old friend of yours. “Hey, babe, I am so sorr-”

“Absolutely not, I don’t want to hear your excuses.” The positive voice rings through the phone like velvet sheets after a cold shower. “You missed our reservation!” Have to admit hearing them whine is pretty entertaining. “You had one job. One!” You guys met some years ago over some random online forum, arguing over some random movie. You don’t talk as much as you’d like but breakfast is always on the menu--mostly in February.

“Quick question, am I allowed to apologize?”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end, “Yes you may, but only in fruit baskets and coffee.”

“I got you, next time though. I’m on my way to something right now.”

“Something...” In comes the teasing undertone. “Does this ‘something’ have a name?”

Bursting into a fit of laughter at what is implied and replying, “Definitely not, its a work thing.”

“Speaking of work, I have to go. Ciao!”

Just in time to end the call, you pull into the designated parking deck from the email. Going through all of the security procedures was hell but blatantly necessary; the rest was gravy. Floating through the rest of the building gave you a slightly stressful feel because of all the men walking around with perfect suits and casting no glances your direction. When the glass doors labeled BAU appear, you take a deep breath and walk in with confidence. Taking in the buzzing sound of agents at work all around you. Agent Hotcher’s office is glaringly obvious: higher up than the rest, perfect overview of the hive, and in direct eye sight of the entryway doors.

Delivering a swift knock to the office door you hear a faint invitation from the inside. Walking in with a smile and straight back you are greeted with a man in a dark navy blue suit and a stoic look to attached to him. It first starts with the small talk of your experience, early life, skill sets, and what not.

“Agent Hotchner, might I speak out of line for a moment.” He gives you a skeptical look before nodding. “I understand the nature of this meeting but I am not completely sure why it was conducted.” His furrowed brown is not a good sign, making you correct your structure a bit. “Right, well,” God his stare is fucking intense. “What I mean to ask is, why am I here?”

That was bold.

“Agent, are you not aware that this is a Career Analysis Assessment?” As it slowly sinks in an O-shape forms with your mouth. Now you feel like a complete idiot in front of this prestigious, tight suited, man. “You were unaware? Its fine if you were,” You let out a sigh at the confirmation. “I have a tendency to write my emails with an excessive amount of four syllable words so one could see where the confusion originated.” You let out a nervous laugh at the realization that this is basically a job interview.

“I see that you’ve spent time studying abroad.” Indicated by the recommendations from your Italian Psychology teacher. “Why not join the CIA?”

“Dare I say, they make me nervous?” He cracks a small, very subtle, smile at the admission.

“What made you want to leave Human Resources?”

“I got tired of analyzing decisions with nothing but dead bodies and messy crimes and having my primal focus be the agents and not the victims or perpetrators. Using what I’ve learned as material for agents in training when I could have prevented it from happening.”

“Well said, but I need to be completely transparent with you.” This can’t be good. “I will admit that I have serious reservations about adding a Human Resources officer to my team.”

Shit let me stop him before this spirals. He thinks I’m a spy. “Sir, with all do respect, I have no intentions of being a bureaucratic spy. I’d also like to point out that I wasn’t that high on the HR totem pole to the point where I had an explicit say on what happens to agents, who is hire, fired, or how they’re trained. I analyzed and compromised while expressing my findings to an unbiased extent. If I wanted to be a spy I would have joined the CIA.” Besides, Head Quarter’s is the one that does all of that internal investigation stuff, not HR.

He doesn’t say anything or make any sudden movements for a good minute. I fucked up. That spy line was too far. “I’d like to offer you a position on this team, so long as you can start immediately.”

“Yes, of course I can! I don’t have much office supplies besides a pen or two and-”

“Its fine,” He stands from his seat and straightens the dark blazer. “I’ll have one of my agents show you around.”

From across the bullpen you spot a familiar blonde. “Oh my god!” The file in her hand falls to the floor. “Its you!” She practically squeals.

“Penelope, I didn’t know you work here.” You give your old friend a tight, unapologetic hug. She said she worked as a tech analysis but you always assumed it was for an activism group or a tech firm, not the FBI out of all things. Despite having such interesting jobs, you never talk about work with each other. She knows you work for the government but not which. Although knowing how good she is at uncovering people’s secrets, there’s a good chance she already knew you work for the FBI too.

“What are you doing here? Like physically here. I thought you were in Florida.”

“I have to get back, can you take care of Agent Y/L/N for me?” Hotchner says before rushing off without an answer.

And there she goes with the snooping. “Actually, I left the Florida office and went to California.”

“Oh.” Her face twists a bit. “And now you’re here?”

“I thought you were the woman behind the curtains, the all knowing.”

“And wonderful!” She points with her perfectly painted finger.

In comes a slim man with a messenger back, making a click in your mind. “Now where have I seen him before...” Turning slightly to follow his trail.

“That’s our resident genius Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Unbelievable. “He’s twelve.” The young agent’s head snaps toward you and Penelope, “Does he have super human hearing too?” She introduces you to the Doctor who is, as expected, socially awkward in many ways. A man named David Rossi of whom you’ve met at least once during a few Bureau seminars; last you heard he had rejoined the BAU after retirement. Jennifer Jareau is gorgeous with a nurturing nature about her, she immediately recognizes your name from exchanged paperwork but that’s about it. The introductions are brief, everyone seems to be busy with their own things. “Penelope your team is kind of small.” You quietly mention to her.

“Oh!” Guess the realization that two people are missing, finally clicks in her head. She starts walking in the direction of a staircase so you automatically follow her. “This is Derek Morgan.” Standing in front of a round table is a tall man with a really toned body. “Derek, this is Agent Y/n L/n from Human Resources.” His eyebrow arches up in suspicion.

“Oh no I’m not here for anything bad, I’ve actual been transferred into the BAU. Working behind a desk and watching as others do the work I can’t, wasn’t working out for me.” Definitely won’t trust me until I save his life or something. “I’ve heard of you, one of the Academy trainers has shown a few videos of you.” He smirks at the implied compliment and finally holds his hand out for you to shake.

“Where’s...” Pen trails while looking around.

“Oh she’s getting coffee.” The darker man points behind himself.

“Who’s getting coffee?”

Reconciliation

Maybe we wouldn’t be so short handed if they sprung for better coffee. Emily thought to herself while stirring the flavorless, dark liquid. What if they attach a coffee shop to the building? Imagine how much money the shop would make off of overworked agents. But then I feel like we’d start developing a true addiction to this stuff. Her thoughts are interrupted by the approach of foot steps. She meets Derek’s figure and smiles at the resident goofball of the BAU. Followed by Penelope’s pink centralized outfit with feathers. Then there’s you, just as beautiful as the last time you saw each other. If not more. Your hair shines amongst the florescent lights, paired with the perfectly tailored outfit and jewelry. The same eyes that would brighten her day as they met. An almost unnoticeable bounce in you walk, same as it were years ago. As you step towards her there is a flash of gold on your wrist that sends a ping to Emily’s heart, its the necklace I gave you in high school.

Intersect

You would have know about Emily’s transfer here from a few years ago, had her paperwork gone through the HR department but apparently it went straight to the top because this is definitely a surprise. Once you realize its actually her you stop dead in your tracks. Can’t be.

“Y/n,” She stutters out your name in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“Emily, I work here.” Ripping the band-aid off like this is an every day encounter; seeing your unofficial ex who you were never actually with in the first place but had the same characteristics as a high school couple. Yeah...that.

She also blurted out a ‘no you don’t’ before Garcia interrupted. “How do you two know each other?”

You both snapped your heads to her simultaneously. “We don’t.” Also said that part at the same time.

“Right.” She drags. “I’m sensing some unresolved tension...”

“What are-” Em tries to object.

“So we’re going to go.” The tech analysis grabs the sleeve of the darker man and practically sprints off in the opposite direction. Morgan having a dumbfounded look on his face.

It feels like you’re at a stalemate, who will make the first move. What will the emotions be? Are they going to fly? Because I’d like to throw a few verbal punches her way. Who does that to someone? I thought I was over it but clearly the wound is still open. Great now watch her blame me for X, Y, and Z,

“I’ve missed you.” She barely whispers, sounding a bit broken yet insincere. Its like she’s detaching herself from the narrative. So unexpected that you almost think you’re imagining this. Why would she say that? This is not the Emily you remember.

Anger bubbles up in your throat ready to unleash upon her entirety. Instead of bursting into flames right on the spot, in the middle of your new place of employment you take a deep breath. Words of disbelief  dance on your lips before speaking. “You did not.” She tilts her head like a curious puppy. Who am I even talking to?

“What do you mean?” And just like that she’s whisked away by a guy in a suit of whom you do not recognize. Your jaw clinches in a desperate attempt to keep your cool, wondering what the hell is going on.

Realization

Besides the surprise of seeing Emily, your first day went great. Everyone kept checking up on you and you couldn’t tell if it was because they were trying to be friendly, excited to have a new teammate, or nervous of your background. “She used to work for the FBI Human Resources Branch.” You heard the skinny one tell Morgan when they thought you weren’t listening.

JJ and Penelope invited you out for drinks but all you really wanted to do was lay in your bed with a face mask and a bag of chips. Waving a farewell to the blonde women and head to your car, but a few feet away you feel a presence. You quickly loop around in search of the energy with your hand on the top of your gun. “Woah woah.” Emily holds her hands up in surrender.

At the realization of who it is you take a breath and clip your gun back in place. You give her a “what the hell look” before straightening your outfit.

“Were you going to shoot me?”

She’s met with wide eyes from your end. “Maybe?! Who sneaks up on someone with a gun?”

“I didn’t ‘sneak’ up on you.”

“Emily, you wear all black and walk like a feather. What were you expecting?” The buried anger is starting showing through.

“Okay,” She does a weird hand movement that kind of looks like she’s trying to calm you down. “I’m sorry. I just thought we could talk.”

“Talk...” You’re not really following.

“Yes, I’d like to talk.”

“Emily what are you asking? I’m lost.”

She take a moment to figure it out before answering. “For a second chance, I’m asking for another shot.”

You uncross your arms at the admission, letting them lazily fall beside you. “Em- I-” She can’t be asking what I think she is. “Its been years. More than a decade has passed since-” The words suddenly die on your lips

“I know,” And it looks like there’s a slight glimmer in her eyes, implying the presence of suppressed tears. “I’d just like to explain.”

“Explain?” You bite, tasting the bitter flavor of annoyance.

“Yes, I at least owe you that.”

And that’s how you ended up here, with her. In a cozy, minimalistic loft at nine in the afternoon with a coffee table separating the two of you.

“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing to break the silence, and this time it actually sounded sincere. “If I could have explained everything to you back then, I would have.”

You lean forward, closer to her and push the rather large vase off to the side so she has to be vulnerable with you. Nothing to help her hide from herself. At her confused face you lean back in your seat and nod for her to continue.

“My mother was always a difficult woman and although she has gotten better over the years, things were at their worst when she found out how much time I had been spending with you.” The brunette takes a minute before admitting the next part. “She was responsible for your early departure. I tried to stop her, give you more time but she’s relentless.” She waits for your reaction but when met with nothing, she continues. “She threatened me by putting our connection on the line, which in retrospect I now realize was impossible to save. She had already made calls to get you out of the country by the time I could sever what we had. I never wanted to hurt you or end what we shared.”

“And what did we share, Emily?”

Her tongue darts from between her lips, doing that weird little biting thing she’s always done since we’ve known each other. It sparks something in you that you haven't felt in a while. “I think you know. The fact that you still wear the necklace I gave you, bracelet, means you never really forgot.”

“I liked it where I could see it, but Em you could have called, texted even.” 

“I couldn’t I was scared. Then after you left I started to distance myself from everyone and everything was really going downhill.”

“How so?”

“I got mixed up with peer pressure and boys.” This doesn’t sound good. “At one point I did anything I could to fit in.”

“What does that mean?” There’s a moment when a tear wells up on one of her eyes, but not dropping. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I-” She tries to speak but nothing comes out. “I couldn’t tell my mother and the church wasn’t happy with my actions.” It suddenly dawns on you, like a smack in the face. You want to make her stop and just hold her but this needs to come out. “I couldn’t call you because it would hurt too much. I hated myself at that moment more than I ever have.”

“And you haven’t dated since?”

She sniffles and lets out a little laugh at that. “God no, I’ve dated people but I haven't dated another female since. It felt wrong, like I was replacing you or something.”

“You owe me nothing. You were just trying to protect me and I see that now.”

“I knew better, its been so long and when I heard you joined the academy I-”

“Wait, you knew and didn’t say anything?”

“Y/n I couldn’t bring myself to do anything other that attempt to move on.” Silence fills the room and its not the comforting kind. Its the tense, I need to do something, kind.

“Do you feel anything?” You dare to ask.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Were your feelings lost in transit?”

“They froze the day you left, and thawed the day I saw you again. Today.”

“So its not over.”

She appears to contemplate your statement. “No, its not over. We have a chance to start over.”

What now?

.｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*★*･ ･*･'･*:..:*･゜ﾟ･*☆*:. .｡.:*☆

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[babyflossy]

i promise | m.l

gif credits to owner

pairing: mark x reader

requested: yes! my requests are open!

summary: you and mark had been inseparable since birth, you had done everything together. that is, until he starts ignoring you in your senior year.

genre: highschool au, angst, fluff, best friends to enemies(?) to friends to lovers au i guess

warnings: underage drinking

word count: 3.1k (i got carried away)

mark lee had been a constant in your life since your first memory. in fact, your very first was of him; you were in preschool and you had laughed as he was told off by the teacher for breaking a toy plane. it was hard for you to remember anything big in your life that hadn't included mark. your first day of elementary, middle, and high school started by the two of you catching the bus together, talking excitedly about how this was going to be the best school year yet.

he was always there. until he wasn't.

at first it didn't bother you; it was well known that friends naturally drifted apart as they grew up. but when he started avoiding you in the hallways, gaze shooting away when you met eyes, you couldn't deny it hurt you. it hurt that the one person you thought would be with you through everything, the person that had been with you through everything, seemed to be growing tired of you.

it was the first time mark lee didn't sit with you on the bus on the first day of school. instead, he slumped in the seat next to donghyuck, a tanned boy with a fiery personality who had adopted the name haechan throughout highschool. he was rowdy and disruptive and everything you weren't. it may have been the first time mark sat with someone else, but it wasn't the first time you found your thoughts clouded with him the whole day.

as the year progressed, your relationship with mark deteriorated into nothing. the only word to describe him now was a stranger. whenever he wasn't avoiding you, he was laughing loudly with his new friends, a group of six others from varying year groups. you wondered what about them was special enough for him to basically exile you. you decided you didn't want to know.

the only link you now had to your ex-best friend was a boy named jaemin who you partnered with in chemistry, and who flirted incessantly without fail. you were used to it now, avoiding burning cheeks and shy smiles unlike the start of the year. it wasn't that jaemin was a bad person, you just couldn't help but notice how completely and utterly different he was to mark. then again, you guessed time changed people in ways you wouldn't understand.

the school buzzed, as per usual, with the news of hwang hyunjin's upcoming party. the only difference about this particular one however, was you being invited due to your friendship with his friend minho. you had never been one for parties, finding the obnoxious mix of loud teenagers and bass-heavy music unenjoyable at the best of times.

but that was then, and this is now. this is now and as you pulled up your black jeans and looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. the dark brown you had smoked around your eyes made you look far more confident than you felt, eyeing the skin-tight outfit with slight apprehension. it wasn't over the top, but it showed your figure in the most flattering way and you made a mental note to thank yeri later for helping you pick it out.

the first thing you remember thinking when you first entered the house was that your eardrums were gonna burst. the second thing you remember thinking was that mark lee looked really good leaning against the wall opposite, even if his eyes were focused on his drink. your eyes followed his gaze to a blonde stood next to him, and you looked away immediately once you realised she was trying to get his attention. her giggling fell on deaf ears as he watched you head straight to the drinks table, stopping to talk with hyunjin on the way. a dark leather jacket clung to his arms as he slung one around your shoulders, smiling down at you and handing you an empty red solo cup. you surveyed the options on the table, equal parts impressed and concerned at the wide array of spirits and beers. deciding now was as good a time as ever to find out what your favourite alcohol was, you picked up an unnatural blue bottle, filling your cup to halfway. it was sweet and slipped down your throat with surprising warmth, enticing you to finish the cup.

you should have known there was no coming back after the first drink.

time had lost meaning to you hours ago, your head swimming as you swayed with yeri on the dancefloor. you had lost count of how many drinks you had consumed quickly after you entered, finding it much more enjoyable to just try everything. from across the room, a blue-haired boy slinked his way through the crowds of people, a devilish smirk on his face. jaemin slid behind you, resting his hands on your waist to stop you moving so he could lean down the whisper in your ear.

"we're doing shots in the kitchen, wanna join?" under any other circumstance, you would deny straight away, but something about his hands on your waist and the loud music made you forget your worries, grinning at him and letting him lead you away.

the kitchen was the only room in the house with sufficient lighting to see people properly. it was white and blinking and it hurt your eyes momentarily, your vision swimming. it was only when he let you go that you realised jaemin's hands had remained around your waist the whole journey to the kitchen. after your eyesight had recovered, your gaze swept across the other people jaemin had deemed worthy to do shots with. donghyuck stood whispering something to a boy you knew as lee jeno, the school's star quarterback. on his left was huang renjun, the person who had tutored through your chinese class in freshman year. at the end of the countertop was the only pair of juniors deemed worthy enough to be invited to senior parties. park jisung and zhong chenle.

the last person in the small gathering stopped talking to renjun when he saw you and jaemin enter. mark lee stared at you wide-eyed, a shot glass halfway to his mouth. he shot jaemin an exasperated look over your head, rolling his eyes in a way that made you feel somewhat undeserving to be stood with his group. donghyuck's smile when he saw you was teetering on diabolical and you watched him cautiously as you reached over the cool marble to grasp the clear shot glass he offered.

"this is y/n, she's my chem partner," jaemin's voice was accompanied by the loud clink of glass bottles bumping together. jeno nodded in recognition, smiling at you as he pulled two clear bottles from the centre of the table, reading both labels before choosing the bigger one. as if instructed, everyone placed their shot glasses into the middle of the counter and you followed suit. some of the liquid spilled over the edge of the glasses as jeno filled them all.

right before you lifted it to your lips, haechan spoke up, "well, y/n, i hope you're not a lightweight." you shot him a fearless grin before downing the liquor, allowing yourself to revel in the way it burned the back of your throat.

despite the fact you were halfway to wasted, you found yourself regretting judging mark's new friends so early on. they were all so welcoming to you and you fit into their dynamic easily realising over many shots and glasses of cheap alcopops they were all actually really cool people. haechan matched your humour and made you laugh so hard you thought you were going to throw up; renjun relived all the memories you had shared from tutoring lessons, telling you through near tears how bad your pronunciation had been; jeno had indulged you with embarrassing stories of the whole group, jaemin hitting him on the back of the head when he spilled jaemin's crush on your spanish teacher. even jisung and chenle had joked around with you, mainly make fun of you for being so much shorter than them.

it felt like you had known them all for years, except the only one you actually had known for years. mark had expertly avoided every attempt from the others to prompt the two of you to so much as acknowledge each other. you couldn't help but think there was something they all knew that you didn't, but the dizzying mix of laughter and the alcohol in your system distracted you swiftly.

the first time he outwardly mentioned you was to stop jeno from filling your shot glass again. you pouted in response and mark nearly froze, the unpleasant skipping of his heart making him feel ill. "guys stop, she's already wasted." it wasn't untrue, but the blatant concern in his voice swirled up a bewildering mix of emotions. joy that he obviously still cared about you deep down but anger that he thinks he can ignore you for the better half of a year, pretending you don't deserve the time of day, and suddenly control your actions. you would have fought back if your vision would stop betraying you and leaving you with an inability to focus on much.

when donghyuck had joked about you being a lightweight, he hadn't taken into account the fact that you were much smaller than all of them. it was stupid of them to think you would be able to drink as much as jeno, the football star for christ's sake. when you tried to walk to the sink for a glass of water, you had swayed so much on your feet jaemin's hands returned to their earlier position on your waist, steadying you with a chuckle.

you listened to them chat back and forth as you focused on the pleasant coldness of the water. it soothed the growing ache in your head but did little to clear the haze over your eyes. "you wanna dip? we could go get mcdonald's?" you think it was jisung who spoke. but maybe it was chenle. their voices blended to one as you refilled your glass.

unaware of their silent debate, you looked up in surprise to see them all staring at you. it was donghyuck who voiced their question. "do you wanna come with, y/n? we're gonna get food and then probably go back to mark's house." the first sensible thought in a while enters your head. do you really want to leave all of your friends here and leave with a group of boys you barely know while intoxicated? maybe it wouldn't be a very good idea–

"guys, i don't think it's a good idea, she should stay here." there mark goes again with his concern, his attempt to exile you again. it was pathetic really, but this was the first time in so long you had been able to see him, and you didn't want it to end.

"yeah i wanna come." as you followed jisung out the party to the front door, you missed the icy glare mark shot haechan, and the amused quirk of the younger boy's eyebrow in response.

mcdonald's is deserted at nearly three am on a saturday. the walk from hyunjin’s house had involved haechan pushing you on his skateboard to stop you falling over every fifth step. he laughed loudly at your screams when he pushes you too fast, his strong grip on you not letting you fall. jeno and jisung skated in front of you, their balance much more impressive than yours. inside, you all crowd around one of the touchscreen machines and add more and more food to the order, playing rock-paper-scissors to decide who has to pay and cheering in triumph when hyuck is the loser. he grumbles about how he shouldn't have lost when it was his idea to play as he pushes his card into the reader.

it takes fifteen minutes of you all giggling like toddlers for your food to be ready, trying to all fit into one booth. you end up balanced on jaemin's left thigh and mark's right and you can almost feel the differences in their personalities from the way they sit. jaemin's free hand is rested on top of your black jeans, his chin coming down periodically onto your shoulder so you can feed him fries. mark is stiff, sitting in any position that means he doesn't have to touch you. you're unaware of his heart hammering in his chest.

the food helps sober you up enough for you to be able to walk unattended, still sipping on your strawberry milkshake – you had nearly coughed it over the table when renjun playfully choked chenle over a joke he made. the remaining alcohol in your system helped a warm feeling of belonging settle in your chest, your words still slurring together slightly.

the group decided to take you to one of their favourite "hang out places" as jeno had so ominously put it. you were curious to see where you ended up, but seeing as you had had more fun in the past six hours than in the past six months, you didn't really care. a skate park happened to be the mysterious location they were taking you to and you shouldn't have been so surprised considering it seemed to be their main mode of transport.

jisung shot in front, still on his board, flying down one of the ramps and hooting in glee at the feeling of the warm night breeze through his hair. jeno and haechan followed close behind, leaving the rest of you to sit on the edge of one of the ramps, dangling your legs over the edge. chenle and renjun sat on your left talking light-heartedly in rushed chinese. they snickered at your confused face, chenle telling renjun he must have been a terrible tutor, receiving a swift slap to the back of his head in return. you simply laughed at their playful arguing and turned to face jaemin and mark.

jaemin sat separating you two, his eyes watching the others skate around at insane speed, heckling them every now and then. at some point, a speaker had been turned on and a lazy beat echoed through the deserted the park. you let yourself fall back, spine resting against the grass. it was a clear night, not a single cloud obstructing your view as you stared in awe at the sky. your eyes sparkled and the stars twinkled back at you, spreading a calmness through your veins.

eventually, jaemin had stood up and run quickly down the slope to avoiding falling, meeting the others and laughing as he nearly toppled into jisung. with chenle and renjun engrossed in their own conversation, it left you and mark unaccompanied. you hadn't expected him to say anything, to even notice you. shock filled you when you saw him shimmy next to you, lying back so you were sharing the same view.

"i'm sorry, y/n, i really am," his voice was quiet and heavy, choked up. when you said nothing in return, he leaned up on his elbow, looking down at you so he could read the expression on his face. it made him hard to ignore and as you met eyes, you couldn't help but think he looked breathtakingly beautiful from this angle.

"why'd you do it? what did i do wrong?" the vulnerability in your voice made him drop his eyes, scared to look at you. you returned your gaze to the stars and he returned to his position lying next to you.

"i was scared," a sniffle follows his words and your eyebrows furrow slightly. scared? scared of what, exactly? you thought, scoffing in your head. "i was scared that i would ruin our friendship by thinking of you as more than that." oh, is all you think. "i know it's been a long time, but seeing you tonight made me realise i would rather have you as a friend even if i can't have you as more, even if i still love you."

it was overwhelming. maybe because of how pretty the stars looked tonight, grounding you and making everything seem slightly more in perspective, or maybe because of the alcohol still pumping around your system, or maybe just because mark lee is finally sat next to you again and he's describing the feelings you've had since sixth grade but before you know it you're facing him again.

"promise you won't do it again?" there's a childlike innocence in your voice, and he's taken back to the time you made him promise not to steal your candy anymore. as if to punctuate, you bring your pinkie finger up between you, grinning when he wraps his around it and shakes.

"i promise."

you wait until he's facing away from you to speak again, "you know i've loved you since we were, like, ten, right?" he whips his head back to face you so fast you think he'll get whiplash, the stunned expression on his face causing a soft smile to spread on your lips. his eyes are lit up like this and you have a fleeting thought that they're way prettier than the stars above you.

the others melt away into the background, their shouts and laughter going unheard by the both of you and it strikes you suddenly how close your faces are, and you're unable to stop your eyes dropping to his lips where a sad smile rests. it feels as if you're the only people in the skate park, the only people in the city, in the world as your eyes meet once again, an unspoken agreement passing between them. you think your heart is gonna stop as he leans in slowly at first, then more desperately when you don't move away. his lips are warm and safe and more than you had ever imagined. you're so close together now that his cologne invades your senses in an intoxicating mix of familiarity and yearning. the hand that comes to rest on your waist instils a dizzying effect much different and stronger than the shots had earlier and you lean further into his touch.

when you separate, the air is different. your friends are still shouting and joking, you and mark going unnoticed by them. mark looks at you like you hold the answers to the universe. "maybe we could start over as more than friends then?"

"i'd like that."

[13-reasons-ideas]

Marry Me - Monty’s Perspective

A/N: Here it is. I’m so sorry this took so long to put out. I was having a really hard time getting into the right headspace to write this. I hope you guys like it! I recommend listening to Thomas Rhett’s Marry Me when you read this. As usual, feedback is appreciated and much love! -Em

Ellie was coming back into town for her engagement party this weekend. I was the first person she called when Evan proposed. She damn near gave me a heart attack when I answered, and she was scream-crying.

Flashback

I was watching the Chargers game when Ellie called. “Hey Elliebear.”

“Heaskedmetomarryhim.” She screeched on the other line. I had no idea what she said. It sounded like she was crying. And that I would be deaf in one ear. I pulled the phone away from my head until she stopped freaking out.

“What was that?”

“Evan proposed.” What?

“Oh?”

“And I said yes. I’m getting married Montgomery.” Oh.

“That’s great Ellie. Congratulations. I’m happy for you.” I cleared my throat, trying to get rid of the pit that was forming.

“Thank you. I wanted you to be the first one to know, so I just wanted to call you quick. I can hear the game in the background, and we have more people to call so I’ll let you go now.”

“Okay, tell Evan I said hi and congratulations.”

“I will. Bye Monty.”

“Bye Ellie.” I hung up and sat back on the couch. She’s getting married.

End flashback

I was on break at work when I got a text from Ellie.

Hey you. I just got into town with Evan for the weekend. Are you free tonight?

I texted her back a few minutes later, yeah I’m free. What’s up?

She replied right away. Drinks or coffee? Just you and me. My parents are going over some details for tomorrow with Evan that they don’t want me around for.

Sure. Meet you at Monet’s at six?

I’ll save you a seat. Usual order?

You know I don’t change things Elliebear.

I stopped at home to change after work into something more comfortable. I grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a random t-shirt before grabbing an old flannel and running out the door, so I wasn’t late.Ellie barely beat me to the café. It wasn’t surprising really, since she was always the early one.

“Hey, what can I get you this evening?” the barista asked her.

“Can I get a-”

“She’ll get a skinny vanilla bean latte with only one pump of vanilla, a dash of cinnamon, and extra foam in a for here cup. I’ll get a regular black coffee. And she’ll also have the chicken and spinach sandwich.” I said behind her. The barista looked at her, unsure if she should ring it in or not. Ellie nodded and turned around to face me. Before I had a chance to say anything, she jumped into my arms for a hug.

“Hey Elliebear.” I grunted.  

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Our orders were finished quickly as it was surprisingly slow for a Friday night. Luckily, that meant our table was free. We sat down and conversation flowed easily. It was almost like we had never been apart.

“The ring is nice. It suits you. Bigger than I thought you would like but it’s nice.”

“It is nice, yeah. That reminds me, Evan said he’s looking forward to meeting you tomorrow.”

“So am I. See who finally caught your interest.”

“I was interested in other people before Evan.” She told me, scandalously. Sure, you did El. I didn’t let myself think about the possibility of her liking me that way when we were younger.

“Ellie. That guy from drama class doesn’t count. And neither does your chemistry partner.”

“I was not interested in Adam. And Zach was my chemistry partner. I can assure you I was not into him.”

“Please, enlighten me as to these people you were interested in before Evan.”

“There was,” she paused. “Dylan from sophomore English was cute. Ian. Couple other guys in high school. Peter from my first year anthropology class was… very attractive, and smart.”

“One guy aside from Evan? University of Georgia is a big school. There’s no way you only had eyes for two people.”

“I was busy. I practically lived in the library when I wasn’t in class or my dorm. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Is there a girl I should be hearing about? Or should have heard about?”

“Nah. Nothing important or anything to write home about. I was busy.” I wouldn’t call what I did, dating. The point wasn’t to find someone to bring home. Who I wanted to bring home was over 900 miles away.

“Oh please Monty, you played ball at OSU. You honestly expect me to believe there was no girl in your life?”

“No, no. There were girls. Just nothing really serious.”

“Uh, huh.” She replied, sarcastically. We reached for our cups at the same time and our hands brushed. I was immediately transported back to the day of homecoming in senior year.

Flashback

“Remember students. The homecoming game is tonight at 6:30. You’ll want to be there early as our Liberty Tigers take on the Hildebrandt Mustangs if you want good seats. It’s sure to be a nail biter.” Principal Bolan’s voice boomed from the intercom during the morning announcements.

“Don’t know why he’s hyping it up to be a nail biter.” Scott laughed.

“We are playing Hildebrandt. We could literally not show up and still win.” I joked. “Have any of you seen Ellie? She’s usually here to force me to English by now.”

“Nah man.” Scott replied.

“Need lover girl to make sure you do what you’re supposed to?” Bryce teased.

“Fuck off. It’s not like that with us.” Unfortunately.

“Sure it’s not Monty. I refuse to believe you never hit it.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.” I threatened, lowly. Don’t push it man. Bryce shut up at my tone. “I’m going to go try and find her. I’ll see you guys at lunch.”

She was arranging her books when I found her at her locker. She was trailed by Clay and Alex. I pulled her into my arms and lifted off the ground. “Montgomery, put me down!” she laughed.

“Never.” I laughed, evilly.

“I have to grab my chem book. And go to chemistry.”

“I’ve got it.” Zach said as he grabbed her book, “you carrying her to class today?”

“Nah, I thought about it but since I had to come find her this morning, I figure she can make it there on her own.”

“I was running late. My alarm didn’t go off when it was supposed to.”

“Excuses, excuses.” I replied, putting her down and shaking my head.

“I’ll see you guys later? Zach and I are running late.”

“Sure. Justin said if I don’t go to the game tonight, he’d tell mom and dad about Ani. And I don’t want to deal with that.”

“Someone has to keep Clay company, so I have to go too.” Alex said, pushing clay lightly.

“Great. I’ll see you then. See you at lunch Monty.”

I sat through just about the driest English class of my life, counting the minutes on my watch. Math was no better. We were reviewing for a test that almost the whole

class failed. Somehow that was our fault for not studying enough. I let out a sigh of relief when the lunch bell rang.

The table was already mostly full when Ellie came and sat next to me. “Ellie, think you could pray for us to not lose this game tonight?” Bryce sniggered from the end of the table.

“Hey, quit being a dick.” I stated. Bryce responded by chucking a grape at me. I threw it back at him. I knew how important her faith was to her. Some things just weren’t okay to be joked about or questioned. When it came to Ellie, faith was one of them.

“It’s fine Monty. Not like he hasn’t done it before.” I know he has. I don’t like it. “It’s going to take a lot more than God to help you win if you don’t learn to throw better than that in the next six hours. But sure.” I watched her from the corner of my eye as she smirked to herself before beginning. I’d seen her pray for real before. This wasn’t that. “Lord, please help the guys win tonight. Give them the ability to not trip over themselves when they make plays. And God, please show Bryce how to make the ball go where it’s supposed to and not hit some poor kid in the head again. Maybe, just maybe, then he will get laid tonight and we all know that’s really why he asked me to pray.” She smirked at Bryce. I choked on my juice. She probably isn’t wrong. Was pretty funny when that kid got hit though.

“You need to quit hanging out with Monty, he’s rubbing off on you too much. And I was serious.”

“I know. I’ll do it for real after lunch. You can sit with me if you want.” She was true to her word. I was late for Geography because I was watching her sit in an empty alcove praying. Bryce didn’t sit with her.

The locker room was abuzz with excitement. It was the homecoming game. Not to mention our season opener. If we wanted to start the season off right, we had to win. Sure, we joked around about Hildebrandt being an easy team to beat-they came in second to last in the league last year-but there was still a chance they would pull off a miracle. Especially if Bryce threw like he did at lunch. “Yo Monty, is Ellie coming to Monet’s tonight?”

“She said she would. Not that she’ll give you the time of day.” I waved off Matt’s question. She’s not interested. Trust me. Find someone else to have your eyes on. Several ‘oooo’s were voiced around us.

“How do you know?”

“Just do, man.”

“I could treat her real nice. She’d beg me for more.” Are you fucking kidding me?

“Oh shit.” Someone muttered, seriously. I didn’t really hear who it was. The sound of my blood rushing in my ears was too loud. Coach Kerba wasn’t in the room. He was talking to Banes about plays. No one in here will snitch. Not when it’s about Ellie.

I immediately turned towards him and cornered him against his locker. The rest of the team stood silently, watching us. I got real close to his face so only he would hear me. “You even think about her like that again and I will bury you so deep they’ll need ground penetrating radar to find you. Not that they’d recognize you if anyone found your body. If you so much as brush against her too hard in the halls, I’ll break your jaw. You understand Carraway?”

“Y-yeah. I got you. Never said a word.” He breathed in response. I had scared the living shit out of him. Good. I stepped away from him and after a few beats the incident was forgotten and the mood was light again.

The game wasn’t that exciting. Had it not been homecoming, most people probably wouldn’t have shown up. As expected, it was in our favour most of the first half. Ellie waved at me between plays. She was practically beaming. During the second half Hildebrandt seemed to find their groove and the game was at least interesting to play. It wasn’t the nail biter Principal Bolan had promised this morning. Everyone knew that regardless of how we played, we would end up winning. The game ended and the team and the crowd were excited. Matt and Garrison were so excited by the win, they tripped over their own feet and faceplanted on the sidelines. The excitement died down for a moment until they shot up and went on celebrating.

I waited for Ellie outside the locker room, as per our tradition. “Good game.” She called.

“Of course, it was. I was on the field.” I smirked.

“Modest as ever I see.”

“Do you expect anything else at this point Elliebear?” “Not really. But I can hope, maybe one day.”

“Maybe, but not likely.”

“Oh hey, while I’m thinking about it, Clay asked me to keep an eye on Justin tonight.”

“Is everything okay?” My brow furrowed.

“I think so. Clay said something about him having issues adjusting and stuff. Do you think you can play nice with him for a while?”

“I suppose, since he is your friend, I can try and be nice for a while. But not all night. I want some Ellie time.” Only because it’s you asking.

“And you’ll get your Ellie time. After you make nice with Justin.”

I sighed, making it seem like a hassle just to get a rise out of her. I was about to respond when Bryce called us, “are you two going to stand there and chit chat all night or are we going to celebrate?”

“We’re coming. Give us a minute asshole.” I called back to him. Bryce didn’t respond.

I turned around so I could give her a piggyback out to the car. “Hop on”. Once she felt secure, I walked us out to the parking lot. I pretended to not pay attention when she stole my baseball hat. She couldn’t see the way my smirk turned into a smile when she did.

“That’s my hat El.”

“I know. I happen to like it though, so I’m wearing it.”

“I’m not getting it back tonight, am I?”

“Nope. It is now mine. Might even write my name in it.”

“You do that Ellie. I won’t care when I steal it back who’s name it has in it.” Already has my name in it. Yours would just complete it.

“Fine. Then I’ll readjust it.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would.”

I set her down at her car. “No, you wouldn’t.” I called her bluff. You’re too sweet to do it. Or you’d fix it right away if you did. She rolled her eyes at me.

“Whatever. I’ll see you at Monet’s in a few with your precious hat.” I waited until she got in her car and drove off, before starting my own engine and following her.

Ellie beat me to Monet’s as usual. I nodded at and stopped to chat with some of my teammates when I came in. Matt nodded awkwardly at me as I passed. I glared in return. My coffee was set across from her when I got to our table. “I see you told the truth. Can I have it back now?”

“No. I think it looks quite fetching on me, if I do say so myself.”

“Fetching?”

“Yes. Do you disagree?”

“No, I think it looks good on you.” Not that anything would look bad on you. Suits her. She’s wearing my shirt.

“That’s what I thought.”

We chatted quietly before Justin showed up. “Hey guys.” He waved.

“Justin! You made it.” She exclaimed, too excitedly. Making him think you were forced to babysit him by being overly happy isn’t going to help Elliebear. I shot her a tone it down look. Justin smiled uncomfortably as she offered up her seat. “Make room.”

“Can do sweetheart.” I flirted, patting the chair next to me. The smile and blush she tried to mask didn’t go unnoticed.

“Thanks for the coffee Ellie.” Justin said, taking a sip.

“No problem.” The three of us chatted idly for a while. I was on my best behaviour with Justin and even laughed a few times at couple things he said. There was no mention of what he witnessed in the locker room.

My hand found Ellie’s under the table and I grasped it carefully. I had to make it look like I hadn’t done it intentionally. I could see the pink flare of her cheeks and my lip twitched upwards.

“Hey Justin, come over here and look at this.” Charlie called. He was looking at something on Garrisons’ phone. Justin left us to go investigate. I caught the quick glance at our hands, even if Ellie didn’t. Thank you, Foley.

“And then there were two.” I muttered, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Then there were two.” She repeated.

“That shirt looks good on you. It’s pretty familiar too.”

“Oh, yeah. There may be a reason for that.” She seemed nervous.

“Need to go talk to Mike?”

“Not if you don’t have a problem with it. I think he would agree it was simply borrowing, rather than stealing. No need to involve Jesus.”

“I am. So now you’ve got my shirt and my hat. Anything else you intend on taking of mine?” I slowly inched closer to her. We have never gone here. But there’s no way she doesn’t feel this pull.

“Possibly. Depends what else you’re willing to offer.” She said, coyly. My fingers itched to brush the hair from her face. She beat me to it.

“I think there’s a thing or two I could offer you Ellie.” I replied, leaning in a little more. What am I doing? What if she doesn’t feel the same way. Am I about to ruin our friendship? Do I even care? Before I could kiss her, fucking Bryce Walker beckoned from across the room. Son of a bitch. You couldn’t wait two god damn seconds, could you? This better be important.

I stopped just short of kissing her. “What?” I answered, curtly.

“My place, half an hour.” He called back. That is what was so important you had to interrupt this moment? That could have waited. Fucker. I nodded in response and turned back to Ellie, hoping the moment wasn’t gone. I knew it was though. I sighed internally. She was smiling at me, but it didn’t reach her eyes like it normally did. She’s upset. I didn’t know what to say to try and salvage our moment. Instead, I watched her take a sip of her latte and check her watch.

“Shoot. Is that really the time? I have plans with my mom in the morning. I should get going.” I’ll take bullshit for 200, Alex. She never was a good liar.

“Oh, okay. Are we still on for waffles Sunday afternoon?” I tried to hide my disappointment.

“Yeah. Be at my place around one? I need to talk to Pastor Mike about a few things after service.”

“I’ll be there. Text me when you get home.”

“I will.” She hurried out of the café so fast, someone might think there was a fire.

I threw my head back in my chair and ran my hands down my face. Bryce and Matt were watching me when I looked out at the room again. I mimicked Ellie’s actions and took my half empty cup to the counter. “You couldn’t have waited one minute, could you Walker?” I grumbled as I passed him.

“Sorry dude.” He called after me. “My place-.”

“Half an hour. Yeah. I got that.” I shook my head as I left the café.

End flashback

I turned to watch her take a sip of her latte. She still savoured the taste and licked her bottom lip the same way. “What about the blonde girl you told me about briefly?”

Blonde girl… Lip piercing? No. Was a red head. The sorority girl? That was the brunette with the Adderall. Blonde… oh! Chirpy. “Sara?”

“Yeah.”

“She was nice. Very peppy and chipper though.”

“Ah yes. Need to keep up that stoic exterior. Can’t have someone too chipper, lest people think you have a soul or something.” You always thought I did.

“Exactly.” I laughed. He took a long sip from his cooled coffee. “Can you imagine if I brought her home?”

“Well, knowing your mother, I would probably be attending your engagement party tomorrow instead of the other way around.”

“Oh probably.”

“How is your mom doing, by the way?” “She’s doing okay. After dad died, she was pretty out of it for a few months. She’s gotten better with time though. Really started to come into her own and forge her own path.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Not going to ask how I’m doing Ellie?”

“No. I know how you’re doing.”

“Oh really?”

“Montgomery. I am your best friend. Your dad was never a parent. DNA doesn’t make someone your family. You’re doing the same as you did the day you left and vowed to never speak to him again.”

Her easy explanation surprised me. “Sometimes I forget how well you know me.”

“I know. That’s why I have to remind you all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah. How did Evan react to Scott on the way from the airport?”

“I’m not totally sure. I don’t think he realized how things worked at Liberty and exactly what you and I being friends meant. Scott told him about the treehouse.” Oh God.

“Oh no. Ellie. I need to look the guy in the eye tomorrow.”

“I know you do. Don’t worry. He didn’t seem upset or anything. I think he found it amusing actually.”

“Did he tell him anything else?”

“About you?”

“Yeah.”

“No, mentioned how you guys fucked up and didn’t study for midterms and I singlehandedly kept you all on the team. And how Matt and Garrison managed to keep themselves above their feet until after homecoming senior year.”

“Of course, he did.”

“Don’t worry. Evan will like you.”

“How do you know?” Why do I care? Because you love her you dolt.

“Because I like you. And even though you think you are, you really aren’t a bad guy.” We talked for about another hour or so, just catching up, before we decided to call it a night.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Three o’clock sharp.”

“Good.” She squeezed me tightly. When we pulled apart, I looked down and saw she was wearing my shirt. She kept it all these years.

“Is that my shirt?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I thought I lost that years ago.”

“You never asked for it back. We agreed that I technically borrowed it, remember?”

“Yeah, but I also thought you would have given it back by now.”

“I mean, I can give it back to you tomorrow if you want it.” She offered.

“No, no. You keep it. You seem comfortable in it.” She smiled and hugged me again before leaving.

No matter how much I tried to talk myself into cancelling at the last minute or just not showing up to the party, I couldn’t do it. As much as I wanted to let her finally think that I was an ass, I couldn’t. I couldn’t hurt her like that. So, I manned up and went to Ellie’s engagement party. I showed up right at three, as promised. “Hey you.” She beamed. Her whole face lit up when she saw me.

“Hey Elliebear.” I said as I hugged her. Evan stood to the side, giving us a moment. He looked so uncomfortable with our interaction. Maybe he noticed how much brighter her face got when she saw me. She pulled away first and turned towards her fiancé.

“Evan, this is Monty. Monty, this is Evan.” She motioned between us. I shook his hand awkwardly.

“So, you found the way to Ellie’s heart, huh?”

“Yeah. She is something special. I thank God every day that she decided to give me a chance.”

“Don’t I know it?” I replied, trying to hide the wistfulness and ignore the pang of jealously in my chest.

Jill called her over for something and she pointed Scott out to me. Trying to avoid a pissing match El? “Coming Mom. Scott is over there by the cupcakes. Try to keep him from eating himself to a sugar high?”

I laughed, “can do Ellie. It was nice meeting you Evan. Congratulations.”

“You too Monty. Enjoy the party.” He doesn’t like me.

“Hey Scotty.”

“I didn’t think you’d show up. Justin and I had a bet going. I owe him fifty bucks.”

“Well, you know. It’s Ellie.” I grabbed a cupcake from the stand and took a bite. Not bad. I see why she wants me to monitor Scott.

“That’s why I didn’t think you’d come.”

“You came.” Justin said, patting me on the back in lieu of greeting.

“Yup. Where’s Sasha?”

“Girl talk with Ellie and Jess and some other girls.”

“Riveting. What choice did I have? My options were come, watch her with Evan, and hate every second of it for an hour or two, or, not come and have her hate me for the rest of our lives.”

“I guess. Are you going to go to the wedding?” Justin asked.

“See if Evan lets her invite me first. He doesn’t seem too impressed so far. Thanks for that by the way Scott.”

“I’m sure he’ll warm up to you.”

“If you’re invited? Which you will be, because you’re her best friend.”

“Then what kind of best friend would I be, if I didn’t go to her wedding? I’d just hate myself for a few more hours then. That’s better than a lifetime of her hating me.”

“Fair. Look, if you want to leave, just say the word. We can go back to my place and drink.” Scott offered.

“Thanks. I need to stick it out. It’s Ellie.” The rest of the party was fine. I talked to Jill and Rob for a while. I even talked to Evan for a bit. It was awkward but we didn’t fight each other. If he suspected anything about my feelings for her, he didn’t say anything. I left that evening, wondering if he noticed Ellie looking for me and not him all afternoon and letting my brain go somewhere it hadn’t gone in years. At least, not willingly gone in years.

I held out some sick hope that maybe, just maybe, the engagement wouldn’t last. I knew it was wrong of me, but I couldn’t help it. This was the girl that I had been in love with since the eighth grade. That’s when she stopped being like one of the guys. When she became something more. Even though I knew it wasn’t an attainable thing, even back then, there was always this little spark of hope. She was the reason I didn’t really date in college. She was the reason no girl was worth bringing home to meet my mom. They were all compared to her. They would always be compared to her. I always hoped that she felt the same way about me as I felt about her. That hope vanished when I checked my mail after work that Wednesday. The fancy envelope and familiar script were enough of a giveaway. I didn’t need to open the card to know what it was. The invitation. I sighed as I went in the house and opened the card. I merely skimmed for the important dates and time. I knew in that moment that I had finally lost her. I also knew that I would go anyway as I signed, sealed, and mailed the RSVP that night. I had to go. It’s Ellie.

**

The day had finally arrived. I had been dreading this day for the better part of a year. It was the morning of Ellie’s wedding. I woke up, forced myself to get out of bed, made coffee, and showered. I stared at the black suit hanging on my bedroom door for fifteen minutes. Arguing with myself about if I was really going to do this was getting me nowhere closer to a decision. If I go, I’ll hate myself. If I don’t go, she’ll hate me. If I go, I’m losing her. If I don’t go, I’m losing her. If I go, then I’ll get to see her. If I don’t go, I won’t see her. If I go, I’ll have to hold my feelings in forever. If I don’t go, I’ll have to hold my feelings in forever. Finally, I came to a decision. I wasn’t willing to risk losing her because I couldn’t show up for her. If I wasn’t going to be able to be with her, at least I could still be in her life. Maybe. But I’d cross that bridge when I got to it. I put the suit on and fixed my hair. Then I went to the liquor cabinet and filled a flask with whiskey. I couldn’t drink it in church because if Ellie found out, she would kill me, Ten Commandments be damned.

I arrived at the church forty-five minutes before the ceremony was scheduled to start. I took a sip from the flask in my pocket on the city sidewalk. Spotting Bryce, I walked over to him. “Hey.”

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

“It’s going, you?”

“Same old, same old.” We chatted mindlessly for a few minutes until Justin showed up with Clay and Sasha. I’m shocked we haven’t gotten a happy announcement from them yet. She looks thrilled.

“Justin, Clay. Hey Sasha.” The trio greeted me, and Clay took Sasha inside. He seemed to pick up on the displeasure radiating off of her.

“Holding up okay?” Justin asked.

“Sure.”

“He’s at his best friend’s wedding.”

“I know. Just trying to be nice Bryce.” Zach showed up and broke some of the tension brewing between Bryce and Justin. Never thought I’d be happy to see Zach freaking Dempsey.

“So, I heard from one of the groomsmen that she looks beautiful.”

“Of course, she does. It’s Ellie. And it’s her wedding day.” I said. Scott found us milling in the back of the chapel and came over. He didn’t bother greeting us.

“Have you talked to her?” he asked.

“No. I wanted to give her space. In case I decided not to come.”

“Oh. You could go talk to her now.”

“And say what Scott?”

“Tell her.”

“Tell her what? It’s her wedding.”

“I know that.” I looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to our little group. They weren’t.

“Tell her what exactly Scott? How do you propose I go about telling her that I think she’s making a mistake and that I’ve been in love with her since we were thirteen? I’m not going to do that. Not today. Not ever. I’m not messing this up for her.” I whisper-yelled.

“He has a point Scott.” Zach pointed out.

“If I say something, I’ll lose her forever. So, to avoid losing my best friend, I’m going to sit here, watch her marry the man she loves, and wish her the best. And then I will go home, get very drunk, and sleep the hangover off for the next two days.”

Scott raised his hands in defeat. “Okay. I get your point. I’m not going to push you into doing something you don’t want to do.” Even though I made a good little speech, the closer we got to the ceremony, the more uncomfortable I became. I couldn’t stop the thoughts of wanting to do exactly what Scott suggested. I wanted nothing more than to go find her and tell her how I felt. But then I looked around the room and saw all of these people waiting excitedly to see Ellie and Evan get married and live happily ever after. I wasn’t going to be the reason that didn’t happen. But the closer we got to ceremony time, the closer I also got to losing my resolve to sit here and watch this happen. I couldn’t watch her marry someone else.

“I can’t do this.” I said suddenly.

“What?” Zach asked.

“I can’t watch her marry him. I can’t sit here and watch them get married. I can’t give her up like this.”

“What are you doing Monty?” Scott asked. I stood up from my seat.

“Tell Ellie that I’m sorry.” With nothing more to say, I turned around and walked out of the church. My friends didn’t try to follow me, too stunned to process what was happening. I got in my car and drove. I wasn’t sure where I was driving until I pulled into the lot.

I opened the door to the quaint café and saw that our table was available. Though, I suppose now it was more my table than our table. I lost her today. There was no way I was getting her back after what I did. I slipped my jacket off and hung it over a chair to save the spot, before going to the counter and ordering.

“Can I get a tall bourbon neat. Make it a double.” Monet’s had been licensed a few years ago.

“Sure thing. Rough day?” The barista asked.

“You have no idea.” I shook my head and took the drink she set in front of me. Back at what was now only my table, I pulled out my phone and scrolled though some old photos. A lot of them were of Ellie. She used to like to steal my phone and leave me with some selfies to surprise me when I opened the app. I scrolled through the seemingly endless stream of photos and ordered another bourbon when I finished the first one. My trip down memory lane was interrupted when I got a text from Bryce.

I need you to tell me where you are.

Why?

Because I do. Now tell me where you are.

Why?

Montgomery. You want to tell me where you are.

Fine. If you must know. I’m at Monet’s. Now why do you need to know?

I’m sorry about homecoming night. I hope this can make it up to you at least a little. I stared at the screen in confusion. Shaking my head, I put my phone down and went back to sipping the amber liquor. What the hell is he talking about? Fucking Bryce. I didn’t look up when I heard the bell chime above the door. Nor did I look up when I heard the click of high heels against the wood floors.

“Is this seat taken?” I heard a familiar voice, softly.

I looked up at her then, my eyes widening in surprise. What is she doing here? She is supposed to be getting married to Evan. What does this mean? Why is she here?

“I couldn’t do it if you weren’t there. You’re my best friend Monty.”

I scoffed quietly before replying, “it’s not taken, no. Sit if you want,” and taking another drink from my glass, not looking at her for fear of letting my guard down again, only to be crushed again.

“Hey,” she started, reaching for my hand. I looked at her hand and paused before letting her take it, “I mean it. I couldn’t marry him.”

“Why not?”

She was quiet for a moment. Noticing I had about fingers width of bourbon left in my glass, she grabbed it, downing the rest of it.

“Hey. I was drinking that.” I protested.

“I couldn’t marry Evan because he wasn’t you. And you weren’t there to say anything by the time I walked down the aisle. You were just going to give me away and live the rest of our lives wondering what if.” She told me while she stared into the bottom of the now empty glass.

“You- really?” Wait, how did she know I was there? “How did you know…?”

“Zach told me.” Of course, he did. I sighed internally.

“I know I wasn’t there Ellie. I just. I couldn’t sit there in that church and watch you marry him. And I knew I was and would be too much of a coward to stand up and say something when I saw you standing up there with him. I had to let you be happy.” I told her, trying to make her understand that I couldn’t be the reason she spent her life unhappy.

“Don’t you get it Montgomery? I wouldn’t have been happy. Not really. Or at least not for long. Not with Evan.”

“So why did you agree to marry him?”

“Because I thought it would be easier? My friends liked him, my family liked him, I liked him. I just thought that it would be easier to ignore my feelings. I could marry him, officially move to Atlanta, come home a couple of times a year, have a couple of kids. It all seemed easier than admitting to myself that I was in love with my best friend and if I really, truly wanted to be happy, I would need to be with him instead. And that admitting that would change everything. But I’ve learned over the past year that easy doesn’t always mean happy. And sometimes what we think is easy in the short term, isn’t always easy in the long term.”

Easier. Sure. She finally admitted it. She’s in love with me. I chuckled lowly, “took you long enough.”

She furrowed her brow at me, “what is that supposed to mean? I just confessed my love for you, and that’s all you have to say?”

“Yeah. It took you long enough to come to that conclusion. You were what? Half-way through the ceremony before you put a stop to it?” I asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of my tone.

“Not exactly. I knew a while ago. I spent the whole morning shaking and waiting for you to come and tell me that I was making a mistake. When you didn’t come, I thought… that you either didn’t feel the same way, or that you were going to do the kind thing for once and not say anything, but I thought at least you would be there. When I saw that you weren’t, I knew I couldn’t marry him. Even if it was the easy choice.” When I didn’t say anything she added, “you picked a great time to do the kind thing.”

“Yeah, well. You knew it would happen sometime. You owe me another shot by the way.” I muttered.

“Oh please. There was barely a fingers width in your glass.” she told me, sighing dramatically.

I looked at her through my eyelashes, “they won’t serve you that small an amount.” she rolled her eyes and stood up to go order me another shot. Before I could chicken out again, I surprised her when I grabbed her wrist to stop her, before pulling her down into my lap, she fell rather gracefully given the fit of her dress and kissing her deeply. I pulled away first and turned to look out the window. Our friends had gotten out of the car and were clapping and high fiving each other.

“How about that shot now?” I smirked.

[crazy4myself]

No Harm List Pt.2

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Violence or threats of violence, explicit language, charicter death, implications of murder, mentions of blood, mentions of nudity, blow job jokes, 

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy’s life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list. 

a/n: sorry for the tragic backstory I didn’t mean for Hobi to get that dark, but whoop here we aree

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To both your relife and dismay, your life immediately returned to normal after receiving the shoes. While you were a bit wearier about walking home from work, you found no reason to hang on to the adventures of that night or the three charming men you encountered, so you told yourself to forget about it and put it behind you. And you did.

Until a few days later, when you met your best friend Hoseok for lunch. 

"What the hell happened to your face" he demanded in the way of greeting. 

You sighed, knowing you were going to have to tell him sooner or later, but in defense of your face, it was only peppered with a few scratches and a small yellowing bruise from when you fell. It was otherwise fine. 

"You should have seen the other guy," you teased as you set your backpack down in the spare seat. Hoseok already ordered your usual for you like the angel he was, and you immediately shoved a bite of the sandwich in your mouth.

"No," he snapped, swiping the plate from you, "explain first, eat second." 

"Hobi, please, I've been in class all day I'm starving," You whined in protest, reaching for your plate, but he set his lip in a firm pout, his dimples framing his upper lip and you lost the battle before it began. With a sigh, you caved, giving him a thorough retelling of the night with all the details you dare give him without, in turn, giving him a heart attack. 

"He called you Cinderella and bought you new shoes," he asked with a smile brighter than the sun stretching across his face. 

You groaned, "Please don't romanticize this. I'm never going to see him again, and can we mourn the fact that I have to find a new dealer. Mid Terms are around the corner, and Organic Chem is kicking my ass." 

"I'm not mourning any of your bad habits."

"Oh my gosh, you're the one who told me about it," you defended in disbelief.

"At the time, I didn't think your ass was dumb enough to go for it. I had a high opinion of you back then," he huffed before handing you back your plate. 

Your argument died on your lips as you stuffed your lunch in your mouth and ravaged it. Hobi watched you eat an expression of disgust and mild fascination on his face as you near deep throated a 6-inch sub.

"Stop acting like a hoe in Subway. I think the cashier is about to pop a boner," he chastised. 

You looked up to see the man was, in fact, staring at you as you ate. You shot him a flirtatious wink as spinach fell out your mouth. "Let him."

"Why do I hang out with you?" 

"Because I make a great company and have hot friends," you responded cooly as you licked your fingers clean.

Both were very true, but not the reason for your friendship. You were roommates with Hoseok's little sister, your freshman year of college. She took you under her wing since you were an international student, and you met Hobi that way. 

Your weekends were often filled with the smiles of the Jung siblings and mischief that always came with it. You and Dawon grew incredibly close, she even offered to let you stay with her and Hobi over the summer while you were still apartment hunting come the end of the spring term. 

Dawon's friendship was that one in a lifetime bond you can only get from enduring college together. The two of you were going to watch each other grow into badass boss bitches after graduation, stand in each other's weddings, be the godmother to each other's children. It was a friendship written in the stars, so you were devastated when she passed before the spring semester even ended. 

The authorities claimed that Dawon was shot in a robbery gone wrong. A loss of life over something as petty as a chunk of change in her wallet. The murder wasn't caught the night of the attack, and for a time, the lack of closure ripped you apart.  

You didn't even know the first day after it happened. She was shot during finals week, you were nearly camped out in the library the whole week. When she stopped responding to your texts, you just assumed she was buckling down on studying like you were. You were so caught up in your own life that you didn't get worried enough to reach out to Hobi until 18 hours after her death.   

You don't remember what happened after ending the phone call or what you did, you went into shock and next thing you knew you RA was letting Hoseok into your dorm room after she received the news.

What you didn’t know what that the call never ended. 

Hoseok never hung up. 

Hobi stayed on the phone with you the whole time, murmuring gentle reassurances, not knowing if you could hear him or not, but knowing he could only hear your shallow breaths. He stayed on the phone with you even as he arrived on campus and entered your dorm, asking for the person on duty to find someone to let him in. 

He stayed on the phone with you as he explained to your RA what happened, and watched her shed tears over his sister and struggled to give her condolences. He didn't hang up until he was in your room and wrapping his arms around you. Gently removing the phone from your ear as you stood frozen in place, before he sat you on the carpet. 

The dam of emotions had burst at his touch, the feeling of comfort confirming the reality that your best friend was gone. He rocked you like a child until you nearly exhausted yourself and stayed with you through that night.

 You don't remember much about the days following. You were a ghost of yourself as you finished your last two finals and packed up your belongings along with Dawon's to move out of your dorm. 

There was a small service you attended that was filled with mostly strangers. Which only reminded you that you were only in her life for 10 months, a small fraction of the time she blessed this world. It only took a week for her to become one of the most important people to you, but to everyone else that ever knew her, you were just her roommate. 

You do remember that summer, though. Hoseok honored his sister's wish and allowed you to stay with him while you looked for a place to live. You were a comfort to each other. The first two weeks you spent most nights sitting out on his balcony and letting him tell stories of him to his sister. On occasion, you exchanged one of your own; each seemed to paint the picture and make it seem like she might have been there sitting with the two of you. 

Then something changed in Hoseok, the authorities got a lead on the identity of the murderer, a member of the notorious gang the Razor Gulls. After that, Hobi started going out at night and not coming back until early in the morning. You didn't know what he was up to, you never asked. 

You got worried when his boss reached out to you because he stopped going to work for a week, you covered for him and told him that Hobi needed some time off to mourn. After that, you started to insist you eat dinner together each night before he went out. You prepared a decent meal and sat at the table and talked about mundane things. He smiled for you, but you could see the light dimming in his eyes. You could see the mask he put on for his family and friends who came to mourn her weeks ago, who still called on the occasion to check in on him, start to crack. 

You began to put off your apartment hunting to prolong your time with him simply so he wouldn't be alone. Simply, to make sure someone knew he came home safe each night. What you should have done for Dawon. The only thing you could do for her now. 

You don't know what happened that night on June 13th, you never asked, but you had a good idea. It was a hot and humid night, like most summer nights in the port town, but this one was especially miserable. 

You couldn't keep the sticky feeling of the sweat off your palms, no matter how many times you wiped them dry. You were sitting in the living room watching shitty TV, hoping maybe this would be one of the nights that Hobi would come home early when he stumbled through the front door. At first, you thought he was drunk, but as you got closer, as you saw the blood on his clothes, you knew it was something different. 

You called his name repeatedly before you got any kind of response. When he looked up at you, his eyes were vacant. There was no joy, no smiles. It made your chest tight how he seemed to look past you. It stirred up memories of the night he came to the dorm to check on you. 

"Hobi, wha-" you took a look at the blood on his clothing to make sure it wasn't his own before leading him to the bathroom. You started the shower for him and stripped him of his shirt and pants leaving him in his boxers with small but firm orders to get cleaned up. You put the soiled clothing in a full trash bag shuffling around the take out containers and to shift it closer to the middle of the bag before taking the trash out to the apartment complex's dumpster. 

When you got back inside, you went to his room and grabbed some boxers, sweats, and the first t-shirt you could find before heading back in the bathroom. 

Through the marbled glass door of the shower, you could see that he somewhat followed your directions. He was standing under the running water of the shower, still dazed. The drained water was still tinged a slight rust color from the filth on his hands. 

With a sigh, you pushed back the door and crawled in the shower with him, your shirt immediately sticking to your back as it went under the jets stream. If Hoseok was aware of his company, he remained unphased as you soaped up a loofa and began scrubbing down his back and arms and squatting down to get his legs. This was not the first time seeing the man naked, you skinny-dipped with him in the hot springs outside of town more than a few times this past winter. 

Still, you kept your eyes high as you turned him to get his chest and neck as well as gently rub at the flecks of blood dried on his cheek. The toned muscle of his body showed that dancing used to be more than just a hobby for him. And you admired the careful strength wrapped in his unblemished golden skin. 

It wasn't until you lathered your hands with shampoo and reached your arms up to wash his hair that a broken sob escaped his chest. 

"I know," you murmured to him as you massaged his scalp with your fingers, his entire body rocking with his tears. You didn't know, you didn't have a clue, but Hoseok felt himself clinging to confidence in your words. You weren't dismissing his cries you saw and felt each one. 

He tilted his head back at your gentle guidance and focused on breathing as the warm water washed through his hair. 

He nearly composed himself as you conditioned his hair, quickly only letting out soft whimpers by the time you turned off the water. You toweled the two of you off quickly, dressing him in his sweats before deciding you needed the shirt more than him and traded your soaked tee for his. It fell just above your knee, and you wore shorter things in the club, so you deemed it an appropriate nightgown for the night before leading Hoseok to his room where you joined him in bed. 

The silence was only broken by small sniffles as he hugged you before you finally asked in the darkness, "Do you want to talk about it?" 

His body shuttered with another sob as he let out a broken no in response. You didn't push after that; you only began stroking your fingers in his hair, pushing it back from his face, like he once said his mother used to. 

"Do you want me to go?" you asked softly, he shook his head buried in your shoulder, and that was that. You stayed with him, letting him mourn and process and slowly reel himself back together again as he desperately tried to fill the void in his chest. You held him as his sobs became sniffles and slowly drifted into soft snores, and even when your own eyes drooped, you held him through the night.

The next morning you woke up alone in Hobi's empty bed to the smell of bacon. When you wandered out of the room, you saw him dressed and smiling as he placed a plate of food on the table. 

"I thought we could eat breakfast before I head into work," he offered as an explanation pulling the juice out of the fridge. 

You tried not to be too thrown by his sudden change in mood and instead basked in the glow of his smile, as you joined him for the quiet meal. You insisted on doing the dishes so he wouldn't be late, and he thanked you before hurrying out the door. 

You turned on the TV as you scraped the grease from the pan and into the trash, hearing the morning news drone on until something caught your attention. The reporter went on explaining how Kim Martin, the robber responsible for Jung Dawon's murder, was found dead in an alley in the 7th ward last night. 

---

"So when is your next day off?" Hoseok asked as he stole a kettle chip from your bag, pursing his lips at the salt and vinegar. It was his least favorite flavor, but the fucker insisted on eating your food. 

"Umm today might be the only day for a while, I'm scheduled for like every day this week, why?" 

"You didn't take off for a while to lie low?" he questioned in disbelief.

"No, why would I? They aren't after me or anything they're after Bambie," you said, choosing to stick with the code name you gave Jungkook. 

If he wasn't going to reveal your identity to his friends, you wouldn't tell yours, besides you were fairly certain Hoseok was involved in some gang shit and you were not about to give him the motive to dig into anything deep. Especially when people were getting assaulted for it. 

"Y/N, you don't know how guys like this work they hold grudges," he warned. 

"Look, this was nearly 5 days ago, I technically did lie low. And besides, I'm trying to take off for Mid Terms next month, I need to be able to pay my rent to do so," 

His face fell immediately "Y/N, you know if you ever need help you could always-"

"Hobi, what is rule number one of living in Alcor?"

"Don't eat the chili fries at Dax's." 

You gave him a knowing look, and he slumped in his chair with a sigh, "Don't borrow money from anyone."

"Exactly, those were the exact orders you gave me my first week of living here, and I intend to stick to it,"

"Yeah, but I would like to think I'm different, that you could trust me to not hold that against you," 

You turned away from the hurt in his eyes with a sigh, "Look, I'll be extra careful, and besides, I should be done with the night shifts by the end of the month if the scholarship for med school goes through," you said with a smile. At the reminder, Hoseok immediately lit up. 

"We need to plan your graduation party."

"Hobi, I don't want a-"

"I was thinking I could maybe rent a private room at the new club in BP" he continued ignoring your protest.

You graduate undergrad in 56 days. Then the two weeks later, you immediately start summer classes for Medical School. Alcor University's medical program was intensive, and one of the best in the world. And while the tuition for your bachelors was covered entirely by scholarship, you were still scrambling to afford the cost of living in the city.  

Medical School was a whole different story, you just got your acceptance letter for the fast-tracked program last month. This program took your four years of schooling before residency and shoved it in about two and a half years of non-stop classes, no summer or winter breaks the only school. 

You can't imagine having to work while going through such intensive studies, so you have been applying for scholarships and grants non-stop since your acceptance. Hoping you can scramble enough money to meet your living needs, so you only have to work weekends at 929. You even debated on moving into an apartment with a few more roommates just to lower your rent a little more. 

Hobi continued to lay out his plans for your graduation party, it started sounding like a 3-day event. Still, maybe you were in need of a little fun before you entered your academic hell. 

---

Min Yoongi parked his bike on a side road, securing the helmet to its lock before making his way down one of the main streets in the 6th ward. After reviewing some of the footage on the few surveillance cameras in the area, he found that the two thugs who snuck up on Jungkook that night were members of the Black Tips, a gritty gang from the 6th ward itching to expand their territory. 

It was likely the thugs just saw Jungkook and decided to act out on their own to help pull them up the ranks, but to be safe, Yoongi has Jin, their best spider after Taehyung, keeping an ear out to make sure it wasn't a direct order from their higher-ups.

 The city of Alcor was the large and filthy port city that served as the capital of Kros, a small merchant nation that was ruled by capitalism. In Kros, the market was more powerful than any politics making the two interchangeable when it came to state affairs. 

Alcor is formally split into 11 wards, but most would say the city is clearly divided in two, the East and the West. The scumball that is the West was made up of Wards 4-9. The 4th and 5th warehouse districts make for a slow gradient through the ghettos and underdeveloped, impoverished areas, until you reach the 9th ward. The Pleasure Ward. A place of gambling halls, raunchy street vendors, and brothels. 

No single gang owns the massive tumor that is the 9th ward, but neighborhoods and territories could be claimed. While BTS's stronghold lay firmly in the 7th ward, they had a handful of investments in the 9th, the most prominent being The Bulletproof Casino, the largest and most successful gambling hall in the Westside. 

Bulletproof had undergone three expansions since its opening seven years ago. And thanks to the smart guidance of the founder and the gang's leader RM, it has quickly put a handful of half-assed lesser halls out of business. One of them being the Golden Drop, the Black Tips old club. Things have been tense since they sold their business to a Mr.Kim Namjoon two years ago, only to find the businessman had turned around and immediately sold the plot of land to BTS. The poor bastards didn't have a clue that the whole transaction was done by RM the entire time. He's done well to keep up his alias in his upcoming years. 

Suga wished that Jungkook would do the same. 

It sure would keep him out of a hell of a lot more trouble, incidents like the other night wouldn't have happened if the runt knew how to keep his head down, but the younger generations were not fond of street names. 

Only Taehyung, who went by V, kept his because RM required that dealers have them to make it harder to get busted by cops in case some doped up idiot ever gets caught. But Taehyung has nearly grown out of the name as he's proved himself to be much more than a dealer. 

The boy was cut from the same cloth as his cousin Jin and proved himself to be an excellent spider. A position not too far from being a spy, a collector of secrets and information from any person around the city. Possibly an even better one as Jin continues to slowly become the public face of The Bulletproof Casino, dealing with investors and stockbrokers of higher society has made it harder for him to blend in with the lowlifes of the West Side. Taehyung, however, has found himself able to worm his way in and out of the upper and lower class seamlessly and always dug up the dirt BTS needed. 

What sets RM apart from the other scum of the lower West was he had an eye for all the currencies in life and invested in each of them; coin, knowledge, talent, and secrets. It was the secrets he held on nearly every big name in the city that slowly made BTS untouchable. Helping them live to their claim of being bulletproof. 

Maintaining the dignity of the gang was how they ensured they lived up to that claim. That was why Suga was here to track down the two punks that tried to take out one of their own. 

A member of their inner circle no less. BTS's civilian network was massive, every employee at every business they owned or invested in was loyal to BTS either willingly or out of obligation. 

RM was known for helping relieve people from their debts, give them a second chance at life and allow them to pay him back at a much reasonable pace than any collector would allow. And they could do it financially, through their labor, or their services. Taking small jobs offered by a darker clientele. Slipping poison in a cup, being a lockpick in a heist, cutting the breaks in someone's car. These risks helped clear a large portion of the debt they may owe. 

BTS also had members, their Army, people who would take the tattoo on their arm knowing it acted as both a shield and a target, but it gave them a place and a family to belong to when they lacked either. Being an Army of BTS ensured you a job, shelter, and a full stomach all luxuries on the west side. 

Finally, within the members was their inner circle, people with titles who sat at RM's round table, because the corny bastard actually had a round dining table for family dinner which was scheduled to take place once a week, but happened most nights organically because his brothers liked to stay together.

Suga has been part of the inner circle since BTS was born from a gang raid gone wrong. He and Namjoon were just two bastards who came out of the rubble fighting and built the empire they had now over the past 7 years. He served as Namjoon's second before there was even an option for a third.

 And if the day ever comes when Namjoon is ready to step down and hand JK the reigns, a thought he entertains with Yoongi and Jin on quiet nights at the Den, Yoongi supposes he will serve as Jungkook’s second too. If the little brat would have him. He can't imagine himself walking away from the life he lives now. 

He holds nothing against Jin and Namjoon for wanting to leave. Holds nothing against them for wanting to live a quiet life with their partner, where they don't have to put their life, or someone else's on the line. Yoongi just can't imagine himself doing the same. BTS has always been his purpose; he loves his brothers and the world he's built for himself. He even likes it on days he has to clean up after snotty-nosed bunny teethed brats. 

Jon Waters was such a mundane name. Suga had to believe that the man covered himself in tattoo's to compensate for it. Especially as he entered the rundown pawnshop with bars on its windows and door to see how tacky they were in person. 

"You got a lotta nerve comin' into my shop," Jon growled the moment the bell alerted him of Suga's presence. 

"You have a lot of nerve coming after my kid in the middle of the night. Tell me did you cry when you got your ass handed to you by some college girl," he mocked 

Jon's eyes narrowed as his hand reached under the cabinet for his gun, "I'll kill you."

"1421 Lilac Drive" was his Dull response. Jon's eyes widened in shock. 

"That's your sister's address, right? I gotta say you did well when your mom ditched you guys, joining a gang to provide for her. Quite noble. Sending her off to university, she didn't graduate, though," he sent a taunting smile. "Who needs your masters when you can get your Mrs. I'm sure it was easy for her to marry rich with an ass like that."

"Watch it," he snapped. 

"Oh, it's hard not to. But not for long I hear she is carrying, things tend to sag after having a baby." Suga mused lazily. 

"What's your point, you think knowing who my sister is, is going to scare me?" 

"It should. Especially since I have someone stationed outside her house right now, and if I don't walk out of here. Hell, if I come out with my hair a little ruffled, they have orders to shoot."

"You're fucking bluffing."

"Do you really want to test me?" Jon's lips became a thin line as he made a point to take the magazine out of his gun and set them both on the counter between them. 

"Goodman," Suga taunted as he locked the door of the shop and flipped the sign to close. "Now let's talk,"

---

Your day was much less interesting after your lunch with Hobi, you had one more lab before you dragged yourself to the library to get some studying done. 

You were returning to your mundane struggling college student mindset as you stepped onto the elevator to take you to the fifth floor, the quietest and therefore, your favorite floor, in the library. 

You were so caught up in responding to a friend about going to see her art exhibit in a few weeks that you almost didn't notice someone standing in front of the elevator doors as it stopped on the third floor. 

You glanced up mindlessly and locked eyes with a familiar set of brown, doe eyes. 

Which was fitting since Jungkook very much looked like a deer caught in headlights. He stood in front of you, wearing all black, which led you to think that was his usual attire. His backpack was slung over one shoulder, and you noticed the hand that gripped it was bound in a black brace. 

You were his mirror as you both gaped at each other, for an unreasonably long amount of time, not knowing what to do. 

You opened your mouth to break the silence when the doors began to slide shut, seeming to break Jungkook from his trance as he backed away from the elevators and sped towards the stairs deciding he could use the cardio anyways. 

Jungkook felt a myriad of confusing emotions as he descended the stairs to the library. But he knew he sure did feel stupid. 

He felt stupid for trying to board an elevator with the up arrow lit up when he wanted to go down to the first floor. He figured his lazy ass would ride it up and back down a few minutes and save himself the effort. 

He also felt stupid for walking away. Getting in the elevator with you would have been awkward, but now that he walked away, he probably made himself seem like a creep. You seemed a little suspicious of him the night you met, but now you were definitely going to think he was in some sketchy gang shit. 

And of course, he was, but he didn't want you to know that. 

Jungkook also felt stupid for being worried about what you might think of him. While he was now charged with making sure your life was never at risk in the 7th ward, he wasn't supposed to ever really see you or talk to you again. 

On a campus of 15,000+ students, he was certain he has never seen you in his life, but of course, he sees you now. In the library of all places. 

But most of all, Jungkook felt stupid for being excited to see you. To see that the bruise on your cheek had faded to a healthy yellow and that your leggings were tucked comfortably in the black boots, he got you.

Either you didn't have a lot of shoes, or you actually liked his gift. He smiled to himself at the second thought. 

Jungkook's thoughts were filled with you as he made his way back to the Den. He wondered if he might happen upon seeing you on campus regularly, or if he blew his one time chance. 

He would like to think that he would say hi next time he stumbled across you. He wondered if you were graduating soon and leaving town or if you would be in the city for a while longer. The part of Alcor you were in wasn't the nicest, but he liked the thought of you getting to move uptown some after you graduate and maybe seeing you in your favorite coffee shop. 

You were kind and funny and didn't completely freak out at the fact that Jungkook was mugged, and that they tried to chase you and possibly kill you for helping him escape. He liked the thought of having a friend outside of BTS who didn't care about what he did like you might. 

Jungkook was thinking about you even as his phone buzzed with a text from RM with orders for a family dinner tonight.  

a/n: So this isn’t quite what I wanted to be, but I really wanted to get something out for you guys to read. I already started pt.3 and have BIG plans. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Please comment and let me know if you want to see more. and what you liked, loved, or hated about it. I can only learn from feedback :)

-> pt. 3

[samwrights]

Pining After You pt. 3 [hc]

Thank you @parkersvibes for the request! Hope you enjoy!

Also, I’m so sorry Tsukki’s is so long 🙃

Kageyama;

Accurate GIF 💀

He doesn’t even remember how, where, when, or why he met you.

No, that wasn’t quite right—he remembers why, but he wishes he didn’t.

Both of you had gone to Kitagawa Daiichi, with you being one year his senior, and your best friends—Oikawa and Iwaizumi—being one grade ahead of you.

Back then, you were the volleyball club manager, continuing to do so when you went to Aoba Johsai.

Your enrollment in the private school was almost, almost, enough for Kageyama to consider accepting his recommendation there. Too bad his hatred for Oikawa, in addition to the rumor that coach Ukai coming out of retirement, was enough to outweigh his desire for you.

Every practice match or tournament in which both of your schools were participating created a need for Kageyama to make sure he remained focus. If he didn’t, he would end up focusing on you too much.

Like he was right now, as he watched you stretch out Oikawa’s leg in unsavory ways. You weren’t doing anything dirty, just trying to make sure he didn’t injure himself again.

Or the way you’d clap your hands on Iwaizumi’s shoulders as you gave a pep talk, telling him how Seijoh was going to crush it as they always did. That made him almost want to forfeit, just so that you wouldn’t comfort your team in the throes of defeat. Maybe, you’d comfort him instead, if Seijoh ended up winning.

Seeing you talk with Kunimi made his blood boil. The boy who practically gave no shits about anything, yet he was smiling and laughing with you with ease.

Watching you give all of the first years a hug made him want to boil his own teeth—that could have been him.

Both teams lined up with you at the tail end of the Aoba Johsai side before bowing and thanking each other for the game. Kageyama shook his head; he needed to focus on the court and not the way you took your seat beside coach Irihata, crossing your legs at the knees as you took notes.

While Kageyama doesn’t really do romantic emotions, he’s grateful he’s able to channel this energy into his game, his serves rivaling the power of Oikawa’s in the moment.

“Look what you did, [name]-chan, you got little Tobio all riled up!” Oikawa called out from the opposite end of the court when waiting for another serve, completely unfazed by the service ace that Kageyama had just landed.

Sometimes you really wish that Oikawa wasn’t as observant as he was. For years, all he did was tease you about how Kageyama would stare at you during practice or ask you to throw him a few balls because it was the only way he knew how to talk to you.

Kageyama was angry now, his emotions successfully consuming him as he aggressively played, setting balls just a little too high or a little too far. It lead to their loss of the practice game, only causing him to fuel the fire in his gut.

As Seijoh begins clean up, you felt the need to apologize to the poor, slightly spiteful boy. “Uh, hey I don’t really know what happened, but—“

“It’s fine!” Kageyama snapped, though realizing he was taking out his embarrassment on you, he quickly tried to recover. “I’m sorry, I just, uh...”

He wanted to die.

“Don’t apologize. Oikawa was the one baiting you. He thinks you like me or—“

“I do.”

bishwhat.

Tsukishima;

This bro don’t believe in love.

He goes all throughout high school without ever dating or even having a crush on anyone and he expected the same to carry on through college.

He expected to, but what was life without a little surprise?

The first time Tsukki met you was when you were working at a coffee shop on campus where he had decided to study for the evening. At first, it was nothing. You were polite, fast, and just doing your job. You smiled and handed him his coffee, thanking him and hoping to see him again soon.

Why did those words send tingles down his spine.

He starts coming by the cafe every night, to the point where you remembered his order.

“Got your toffee nut latte, Tsukishima!” Why tf did you know his name? Oh, right. He gave it to you the first time he ordered...like he was supposed to.

It wasn’t that he thought you were going out of the way to get to know him or anything. He was hoping for it but he knew you were doing your job.

Tsukki noticed little things like the way you would whistle or sing along to stereo, or come up with awful coffee puns that somehow made him smile. “How have you bean?” And “thanks a latte!” Wow he hated you so much.

He started coming even when he didn’t have to study for anything, opting to instead just enjoy his drink and listen to some music on his phone, all the while just observing you.

One day, you decided to join him on your lunch break while he was studying. “So, what class is this for?” You gestured towards the gargantuan text book sprawled out on the table.

“Organic chem.” He’s a little confused by your presence, but it was the first time Tsukki got to see you without your boxy apron swallowing your frame. Immediately, he noticed tiny details like the bits of hair that had fallen from your up-do, or the bags that came with the territory of being a university student that also worked full-time.

“Oof, if you have professor Ayanase, I’m sorry.” He learned from that comment alone that you were older, having already taken a second-year course. “I, uh, see you in here all the time so I figured I’d informally introduce myself. I’m [name].”

“I know, I read your name tag.” 💀 despite the awkward moment, he asks you about your major, what your experience was in the aforementioned professors class, how long you had been working at the shop, etc. It was pleasant on both ends, but really Tsukki learned that he really just enjoyed listening to your voice.

It wasn’t high pitched or squeaky, but full of knowledge and wisdom that came with maturity and age. You reminded him of fine wine.

Hereafter, you join him on all of your breaks, to which he doesn’t discourage—he gets to hear your voice more. Tsukki also gets to learn more subtle details, like the way you would stifle your laughter behind your left hand; the way you would sit there and doodle on the margins of his notes with little encouraging messages and pictures.

Sometimes during lecture, he would open his notebook to see your messages, allowing them to fill his heart with motivation to get through the day.

The days had turned to months, and the months turned into a full year that Tsukki had been coming into your coffee shop for his toffee nut latte, to sit with you on your breaks whether he had work to do or not. Today had been a full year he had been coming just to see you.

No longer was he in Organic Chem and, while he had originally thought it would be daunting for the two of you to lose a topic of conversation, your talks had become more intimate.

Like the way you and your boyfriend at the time were going through a break up but, unfortunately, both of your names were on the lease of your apartment.

Or the way you spent time here to be away from the mess that was your life. Tsukki had to swallow the notion that maybe you came to work even in your days off just to see him. That would be ridiculous.

He didn’t believe in love, or so he thought. But maybe, just maybe, this was the closest he would ever get.

There’s a particular day you come in despite being off. No backpack to study, no work attire or apron. Not even your hair was up—a look Tsukki decided suits you. Without a word, you sit beside him, head buried in your hands.

“I just can’t be home right now.” Was all you offered.

“Okay...” Tsukki begins packing up his belongings before standing at his full height, offering his hand to you. “Let’s get out of here.”

Wanna see a specific character? Or a different head cannon? Want to see a whole story?

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Selfish - Peter Parker

//Absolutely not requested. This idea came to me SO randomly but I really liked it so. first two anons are what i sent her, and the last one is what someone else sent her regarding my concept.//

//Tags: @stuckonspidey // Warnings: Language, violence //

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader; Spiderman x Villain!Reader)

Word Count: 9,935

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N never cared for her father, Tony Stark. After growing up without him in her life, she grew to despise him and the Avengers. She finds solace in causing chaos, including (but not limited to) constantly ruining a certain webbed-hero’s night. The thing is Y/N and Peter are dating, and neither of them know each other’s secret.

You never liked the sound of Y/N Stark. It felt fabricated, like a person you were never meant to be. If you had been raised by the billionaire, your life would be exceptionally different. You wouldn’t be enrolled at Midtown with your friends. You wouldn’t have met Peter the way you had, wouldn’t have fallen in love with him. You didn’t feel bad about not liking the sound of your father’s last name paired with yours. And from what you could tell, Tony Stark didn’t like the sound of it either.

Your mom was the one who made the decision to raise you away from Tony. She explained it to you when you were still in elementary school, when Iron Man first started gaining traction with the public. You had thought she was kidding. There was no way your absentee father was Iron Man. It seemed too convenient, but she even showed you your birth certificate. Sure enough, his name was on it where the father’s name usually goes.

So, you grew up knowing you were Tony Stark’s daughter. It always made you wonder how many other estranged Stark children were there. But you also knew Tony Stark didn’t care about you or your mother. He sent birthday cards, a credit card with the note “Go nuts. -TS” was included when you turned fifteen. Your mom said he paid a year’s rent for you at the beginning of every year. She swore your father was a good person, but all you saw was a joke.

Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. But never known to the public as a father. He was everyone’s hero, everyone’s savior. Where would New York be without Iron Man? You always thought it’d be about the same. You grew up great without Tony Stark. New York would be fine.

You thought it was ironic that he could put himself on the line time after time to protect the world, a place full of people he’d never meet, from threats, but he couldn’t meet his own child. It made you feel unwanted, ignored, rejected, and forgotten. Spiteful even as you grew older and understood things for what they really were. You had even started to wonder if his secretary was sending the cards and he was just signing them. But that feeling, that gnawing bitterness that lived in your chest, it grew into actions. But being Stark’s kid had one upside. You were a genius.

You were able to develop multiple pieces of tech, ones that were just dangerous enough that you could make some trouble. You created a vocal manipulator, able to manipulate your voice across different frequencies and toy with people’s sense of hearing. You were able to create a neurotransmitter that you could embed in a knife’s handle so you could direct it once it left your hand. You were also able to use some of those deep Stark pockets to get professional level martial arts, knife-throwing, and singing classes.

You found a way to develop highly responsive shoe inserts, able to add 18 inches to your vertical jump and absorb most if not all of the sound of you walking. You were able to create a number of highly potent, easily absorbed solutions with a variety of functions. A paralyzing agent. A temporary bronchiole restrictor. Another that forces one to tell the truth. Five variations of sensory deprivation, one for each human sense. And your newest, a neurotoxin that activates pain receptors across the body. All of your concoctions were temporary, that much you made sure of. You didn’t want to kill anyone or cause any long term damage. More often than not, you just wanted to ruin their night.

Since your dad was a hero, you wondered if it was your path in life to be a hero as well. A local hero, like Spiderman. You had thought about it when you first started toying with chemicals, using your new solutions for good. Maybe even help people. But the thought of being in the same column as your father, being part of the superhero world, it made you sick to your stomach.

You were disgusted with the whole concept of heros. A group of people with martyr complexes who wanted glitz, glam, and glory in exchange for “risking their lives” to save the world. It was ridiculous. No sane person would stand against aliens, high tech monsters, and god knew what else because it was the “right thing to do”. You didn’t even believe Captain America really meant that.

So, you decided to be a troublemaker. Use your brain and your anger to wreak havoc. You never had any intent of keeping it up long term, more of a temporary deal to blow off steam when you were especially pent up. But that was before you met Spiderman.

“Little late to be out, isn’t it?” He said casually, leaning on the wall in front of you.

“Piss off, dude.” You smiled sweetly. Your mask hid your eyes, the reflective fabric showing only a gray screen. “Don’t you have an old lady to help across the street?”

“You know, you seem a little young to be out right now.” He countered. “Don’t kids have a curfew?”

“Coming from the boy who sounds like he hasn’t even hit puberty?” You laughed. Your hand subtly slid to the high collar of your suit, adjusting the sewn in meter to the deeper end of the vocal scale. “Mind your business.” Your voice came out deeper, more threatening and with an added bass that wasn’t auditorily picked up.

“Woah.” Spiderman said in amazement. “Your voice changed!”

“What?” You said after sliding the meter to normal, shock obvious in your voice. “You heard the difference?”

“Well, yeah.” He shrugged, his voice cracking. “I kind of have, like, super senses.”

“Huh.” You nodded slowly, formulating a new plan. You carefully crossed your arms over your chest and activated one of your neuro-linked blades. “Are all of your senses heightened?”

“Yeah.” He began explaining. “Even my brain works different.”

“Your brain was changed?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda like- I don’t know. It's hard to explain.”

“Hmm.. Tell me, how does this feel?”

Before Spiderman could say another word, you sent a knife, soaked in your new pain serum, into his side. You smiled wickedly as he fell against the wall, obviously in pain all over but not knowing why. You called your blade back as you walked away, proud of the outcome.

You texted your boyfriend as you walked home. You figured he’d be asleep or working on his stupid Stark Industries internship so you didn’t expect an answer right away.

Peter’s phone went off as he was left leaning against the bricks for support. He felt like he had been slammed against a building, worse than when he left the airport in Germany. Whatever was on that blade had his entire body in pain, as if every place where he could feel pain, he did.

It didn’t wear off for what felt like hours. Peter couldn’t even focus to swing home. He had to walk the 12 blocks and clumsily climb the fire escape to get to his bedroom. Once there, he was able to slide out of the suit and lay curled in a ball on his own bed. He finally was able to check his phone, and a message from his girlfriend was there to make him smile.

pretty girl🤩💛: hey petey. heading to bed. that chem work had me physically in pain lmaoo. meet in the morning to go over it? 

pretty girl🤩💛: i love youuuu. good night bby xx 🥰🤍💓

He managed to send his replies before giving in to the now dulling pain and falling asleep.

As you were tucking your own suit and weapons away, you received a text from Peter.

lover boy🥵❤️: okay same :( come over when youre ready and we’ll walk to school.

lover boy🥵❤️: i love you more

lover boy🥵❤️: 😘😘🖤🖤

The next morning he stood in front of his mirror, examining his side. There was no scar from the blade, only a deep purple bruise from the healing. Peter couldn’t stop thinking about the girl from last night. He was amazed that she could manipulate her voice the way that she did and he didn't even remember seeing her hand move to throw the knife. The biggest thing that stuck out to him was how familiar she seemed. He could almost swear that he knew her, that he knew her voice. He felt it in his bones, in his sixth sense.

You got ready quickly for school, greeting your mom on the way out of the apartment.

“There’s mail for you.” Your mom nodded to the two envelopes on your kitchen counter. When you stopped to examine them, she slid a plate of food towards you. “Since I know you didn’t eat much last night.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You smiled, picking up a pancake in one hand and an envelope in the other. “It’s a Stark Industries letter. Throw this one out.” You tossed it to the side.

“Sweetheart, maybe Tony is trying to be in your life.” She said softly. “You should give him a chance. I think you’d like him.”

“I don’t think I would.” You shook your head with a mouth full of pancake. “He can’t go around trying to save the world and then try to do things for us in the shadows. I’m not gonna be here as a piece to his redemption.”

“Y/N-”

“I’m sorry.” You said honestly, knowing you shouldn’t have cut her off. “If you still have love for him, that’s great. Hold on to that. But I just can’t feel love for someone who hasn’t interacted with me through more than a birthday card.”

“Just open the letter, please.” She said sweetly, pushing the Stark Industries letter towards you. “Maybe it’s not about Tony.”

You sighed gently, putting down your breakfast to open the letter. You dropped the torn envelope on the table and unfolded the paper. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N, we hope this letter finds you well.” You began reading out loud. You offered your mom a look that said you didn’t want to continue reading, that you didn’t feel like it would mean anything. She nodded eagerly, telling you to continue. “Everyone at Stark Industries is highly impressed with the grades that you received from Midtown School of Science and Technology. Mr. Tony Stark would like to personally offer you a summer opp-” You laughed and threw the letter in the trash, heading to your room for your backpack.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you get back here.” Your mother said firmly.

“Mom, that letter is a joke.” You replied, throwing your backpack over your shoulder. “Tony wants to ‘personally offer me a summer opportunity’? That’s bullshit.”

“Don’t cuss at me.”

“Sorry!”

“Tony and I just thought-”

“You knew about this!?” You said loudly. “Why would you do that? You know how I feel about him and Stark Industries and the Avengers. It’s bad enough that Peter has that stupid Stark Industries internship. Why would I want one?”

“Will you at least talk to him?” She tried. You could see the sadness in her eyes, the pain from the broken family. She still loved Tony, that much was clear. And you knew it was valid for her to still love him. You just couldn’t forgive a man who didn’t want to be forgiven. But it was for your mother, the woman who raised you. The woman who left the man she loved so you could grow up normal. You knew it wasn’t fair to put her in the middle of your one-sided feud with your father, so you gave in.

“Yeah.” You sighed in defeat. “I guess I can have one conversation with the man. But I won’t go to him… If he wants to talk, he can come to us. And I won’t talk to him through a phone call.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m only doing this for you.” You added, holding your arms out for a hug. “I’m heading out a little early. Peter’s gonna go over the chem work from last night with me.”

“You finished it, right?” She asked as you headed towards the door.

“Yes, ma’am.” You nodded, offering a salute as your goodbye. “Love ya.”

“Are you coming home or going to Peter’s?” She called as the door was shutting behind you.

“I’ll call you and let you know.” You answered quickly before heading to Peter’s apartment.

You reached his apartment with about fifteen minutes left before you two would have to start heading to school. You knocked twice before May ushered you in. She gestured to Peter’s room, saying he was still getting dressed. You smiled, hugged her quickly, and headed into his room.

“Petey?” You knocked quickly before entering. “You decent?” You covered your eyes until the door was shut behind you.

“Y/N! Hi!” He said quickly. When you put your hand down, you saw him shirtless. You had only caught a glimpse of the deep purple bruise on his side but that was enough to draw your attention. He noticed your eyes on his tender injury but quickly tried to brush it off. “I went to help May with dinner last night and I fell into the edge of the counter.”

“You fell? In the kitchen?” You asked carefully, watching his face for his reaction.

“Yeah!” His voice cracked. “Yeah, I slipped in my socks.” He laughed nervously.

“Hmm.” You nodded slowly, not believing his story but not thinking of any other way he’d get a bruise that deep. Unless he took up a contact sport without telling you. “Want me to kiss it better?” You teased.

“Well, if you’re offering.” He smirked.

You skipped over to him and went up on your toes to kiss him quickly. When you pulled away, he pouted. “That’s it?” He whined.

“Aw. Does it still hurt, baby?” You joked.

“Mhmm.” He nodded, hitting you with his big puppy dog eyes and pursed bottom lip.

You chuckled lightly as he kissed you again, one of his hands finding your hair to hold you in place for a few moments longer.

“Anyways…” You smiled when you pulled away. “Can I see the chem work from last night?”

“It’s on the desk.” He nodded towards his cluttered workspace before rummaging through his closet for a shirt.

Everything else that day was normal. School went quick and you went to Peter’s afterwards. You two got food from Delmar’s on the way to his place. You struggled through your calculus work as Peter breezed through his. He talked you through some of the problems and you helped him with his English writing assignment. You two laughed and joked and teased each other until it was time for you to go home.

That night, you suited up and wandered the streets. You had no real intentions as you walked the familiar streets you grew up on. You simply wanted to be alone with your thoughts for the night. Sure, it was easy to lock yourself in your room and muddle in your messy thoughts, but you weren’t truly alone. Your mom would be home, checking on you or coming in to show you something funny she found on Facebook. So once she was asleep, you took off.

You wanted to do something big that night, something that could distract your mind until the next morning. You had ended up in front of Peter’s apartment building when you looked around to make up a plan. With no ideas, you climbed the fire escape until you reached the top of the building. You kicked your feet over the edge, flicking a knife into the distance and calling it back.

“This is an oddly specific spot for you to be.” Spiderman’s voice came from behind you. You dropped your hand, letting the knife fly past you towards the spandex-clad figure behind you. You stopped it about an inch in front of his face. You stood slowly, taking a deep breath to gather your composure before turning to face him.

“Are you stalking me?” You teased, walking slow circles around the bug-themed hero. “I’m a little creeped out, not gonna lie.”

“I- I wasn’t- I just-” Spiderman stammered.

“Doesn’t matter.” You shrugged, bringing your knife back to your hand. You tucked it away and looked back to Spiderman. “I’ve had a rough day and I’m gonna take it out on you.”

“What? Why-” He began, but before he could finish his sentence, your fist had connected with his jaw.

“Why?” You laughed, aiming another punch that he ducked. “Because all you heroes are the same. You think-” Another well-aimed punch. “-you can swoop in-” A swift kick to the ribs. “-uninvited-” He swung a fist back but you ducked under, twisting his arm over your shoulder and flipping him onto his back. “-and expect everyone to thank you.”

He jumped up quickly before speaking again. “What did I do to you?” He exclaimed, yelping as you aimed a kick for his head that he barely ducked.

Peter didn’t understand why he was taking so long to react. Usually his mind could process and guess where his opponent would strike before they made a move. But when he was fighting this new girl, he had no idea how to fight back. All he could do was defend. “I don’t even know you.”

“No, but I know you.” You laughed, pushing your gloved fingers through your hair. The sentence sent a wave of panic through Peter’s body, bracing for you to expose him but it never came.You hadn’t planned on any fighting, so you didn���t make a point to put it up before you left the house. You now regretted that choice, a thin layer of sweat making your baby hairs stick to your face. “You’re all the same. You think you’re doing your part to make the world better but all you do is abandon your family.”

“Abandon…” Spiderman repeated, his mind racing to put it all together. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You shrugged. “I’ll come face to face with him soon enough. For now, you need to worry about who’s hurting you.” You quickly flicked a knife at him, one dipped in a sensory deprivator. You were pretty sure it was the sight, but you couldn’t quite remember.

“What the-” He exclaimed, reaching his hands out in front of him. “How did- What did you do?”

“Sensory deprivation.” You said smoothly, walking to pull the knife out. “It was hard to perfect these ones without testing them on myself, if I’m being honest… It’d be too obvious to the people around me what I was up to.”

“I can’t- I can’t see! I can’t see.” He repeated, panic rising in his voice. You almost felt bad for him, like you had taken it too far. Something about the octave of his voice, the speech pattern, it felt familiar and that made the regret that much worse. Not only that, but it made you realize something. He was young, maybe as young as you were. “H- How- How long- How long is this gonna last?”

“About an hour.” You said slowly. You sighed gently, adjusting the pitch of your voice a bit higher. You knelt beside him, carefully putting your hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna be alright.” You said with a slight tune to your voice.

You had picked up the singing lessons as a hobby, but you had quickly learned how easy a man would fall for a song. Using your tech and skills, you were like a modern day siren, manipulating men with a simple tune. Only when you used it on Spiderman, you didn’t use it to hurt him.

Peter was in a state of pure panic. He had never been without his sight before, and being on top of his apartment building, with an expert knife thrower that had a vendetta against heroes only made his nerves worse. He had no idea what her plans for him were. He wasn’t even completely sure of what she was capable of. Everytime he encountered her, she had something new to throw at him. As far as he could tell, she wanted him dead. She could throw him off the roof right now and he’d be as good as dead.

He was already on his knees, having collapsed from the knife landing in his thigh. He felt her hand on his shoulder and he flinched, raising his hands in a quick defense. But instead, a soft tune found his ears, a gentle promise that he’d be okay. He didn’t know why it made him feel a bit calmer, but it seemed to slow his mind. It reminded him that it was only temporary.

So, he gave in to the loss of sight. He gave in to the new nothing and allowed his sixth sense to take over. He wasn’t sure if she wanted to fight anymore, but he was ready for it.

“You’re young, aren’t you?” You asked when you saw some of the tension leave his body. “Everyone says you could be any age, but I don’t think you’re that much older than I am.”

“Now you care?” Spiderman scoffed.

“Wow, sorry.” You rolled your eyes.

“You literally just blinded me and I’m supposed to be nice to you?”

“Just forget I asked, damn.” You pushed yourself up and turned to face him. “It’d be so easy to end all of this right now. You’re blind, defenseless really. You’d never see my attacks coming… And maybe it’d make me feel better to take one hero out of this world.”

“Take your best shot.” Spiderman challenged.

You lifted an eyebrow, wondering if it had worn off already. But there was a slight falter in his movements, confirming that he was still blinded. So, you went for it. You threw punches and kicks, some connecting while some were dodged. He had landed a few good shots on you, one causing you to bite your own cheek. You spit the blood out, nodding in respect to him, before attacking again.

You used one blade, gripped tightly in reverse so your swings had a bit of an edge to them. You opted against any puncturing or any coated blades, deciding to hurt him by brute force this time around. He was able to block a decent amount of swipes, hitting your forearm with his. Spiderman was a tough opponent, eventually pinning you near the edge of the building.

“Go on then.” You breathed heavily. Spiderman had the hand with the blade pinned under one knee while he had his foot against your chest. He was careful not to put too much on his weight against you, but he made sure you couldn’t escape. “Throw me over and be done with it.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He exclaimed breathlessly in shock. “I’m not gonna throw you off a building!”

Despite the slices, throbbing bruises, and fuzzy vision, Peter still didn’t want to hurt whoever she was. She obviously wasn’t grown, had no real intent on hurting people. She was just… troubled. 

“That’s where you and I-” You managed to get your knees between your bodies. “-are not the same.” You shoved roughly, flipping him over and off the building.

His scream echoed through the alley, until a harsh thud against the fire escape silenced it. You waited, catching your breath and steadying your racing heart and mind. You soon realized that you just threw Spiderman off the roof of an apartment complex… You rolled over quickly, sliding off the building and down a few of the fire escapes until you saw where he had landed, on his back but moving.

“I’m okay.” He groaned, trying to push himself up but failing. “I’m just gonna lay here for a while. Do you- Ah. Do you have a name?”

“Yeah, uh.” She said carefully as she got closer. “They call me Heretic.”

Peter laid on the cold metal in pain. Pain all over. His vision had returned thanks to his advanced healing, but was made blurry by the hit to his head. His spine ached, his lungs trying to refill after having everything knocked out of them. He watched as the girl’s figure slid down the side of the building via the fire escapes until she had past him. She was careful not to step on him, and he was grateful for that. Glancing over, he realized that he was outside his apartment so he rolled inside and laid on the floor.

“Heretic.” He repeated her name. “Cool.”

You made your way home quickly, practically running from your latest mistake. You had almost killed Spiderman. Throwing him off the roof was one thing. You knew he had the reflexes to save himself, but throwing him off while he was blinded was too dangerous. You had taken things too far, and that kid almost paid for it.

“Heretic, what the hell was I thinking?” You mumbled as you walked. “Fucking Heretic. I mean, it’s not terrible but giving yourself a name commits you to this character.” You nagged yourself. “Now, you have to keep this up. At least till Spiderman gets bored and leaves you alone.”

The next day, you woke for school and found yourself greeted with a black eye. You sighed, knowing you’d need to explain it to your mom and Peter. You covered it up as best you could but the deep purple leaked through your best cover up.

“What happened to your eye?” Peter asked when he saw you that morning.

He had noticed more than that. He just didn’t want to say anything about it, not yet at least. He noticed you looked tired, progressively getting worse as the week played out. He had started to wonder if you had been sleeping. Maybe you had too much on your plate and it was catching up to you. He was hoping it was nothing too bad, maybe a few nights of sleep and a date night could fix.

“I had softball practice last night” You began explaining the lie you thought of on your way to school. The team wasn’t a lie, Peter had been to plenty of your games. Only the practice last night would be the lie. “Well, I was pitching last night and Missa hit a liner right back at me. I barely got my glove up in time so it didn’t break my nose.”

“Nice black eye.” Flash mocked as he passed.

“You want one to match?” You threatened with a smile.

Peter took you by your hand, pulling you down the hall. He led you around the corner to a less crowded hall and looked at you in concern. You crossed your arms once his grip on you was gone, chewing the inside of your cheek. His eyes were soft, eyebrows furrowed. He scanned your face for some hint as to what was wrong, but he came up empty.

“Alright, what’s up with you?” He asked carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You snapped.

“Y/N.” He tried.

“Peter.” You replied in the same tone.

“I’m serious!” He urged, his hands tugging his backpack straps. “You usually ignore Flash or just flip him off. You look like you haven’t slept in days. What’s going on?”

“My dad.” You gave in, offering half of a truth. “He reached out the other day. Him and my mom got together and thought it’d be good for me to get to know him. He offered me a summer job.”

“Is that what has you freaked out?” He sighed in relief. “Jeez, Y/N. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Cause I don’t wanna do it.” You shrugged. “I’m only doing it for my mom. She still loves the jerk.”

“You’ve never told me anything about your dad.” He tried, seeing if he could get you to talk through it. As you opened your mouth to speak, the bell rang.

“That’s our cue to go.” You gestured to the intercoms above you. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Promise you won’t dodge it?” Peter said accusingly, pointing a finger at you. 

“I do not dodge.” You defended, but Peter’s stare convinced you otherwise. “Okay, maybe I dodge a little.”

“Pinky promise.” He held out his pinky. “Pinky promise me right now that you’re not gonna avoid this and we’re gonna talk about it?”

“Seriously?” You smiled.

“Yes, seriously.” He chuckled. “Pinky promises are sacred!”

“I pinky promise.” You hooked your pinky around his. “You know, if you don’t kiss to seal a pinky promise, it doesn’t count.”

“Really?” He furrowed his brows, releasing your pinky to tug you forward by your belt loops. “Never heard that one before.”

“Mhmm.” You nodded, wrapping your fingers around his backpack straps and gently pulling his lips to yours. “It’s a new thing that started like five seconds ago.” You smiled before placing your lips against his.

“I love you.” He mumbled against your lips.

“I love you too.” You replied gently when he pulled away.

“Parker! Y/L/N!” You heard Mr. Dell yelling from down the hall. “If you two don’t get to class right now, I swear you will be in detention for a month!”

You screamed softly, grabbing Peter’s hand and running off to class. The first half of your day was easy enough. Your classes were simply going over projects or introducing new topics. You took easy notes, trying to ignore Peter’s concerned stares. You noticed bruises along your knuckles as you wrote, feeling pain every time you gripped your pen. You hoped Peter didn’t see the flex of your hand, but you had a feeling he did. Peter seemed to notice everything.

During lunch, Peter pulled you to the bleachers by the football field. You resisted, telling him you didn’t want to talk about it at the time. He ignored you. Peter refused to allow you to avoid it, gripping your wrist tight enough so you couldn’t slip out but not tight enough to hurt you.

“Peter, will you stop?” You sighed, uselessly trying to tug your arm out his grip.

“No, cause you’re gonna bail!” He countered, leading you to the top of the bleachers. “Sit down.”

You glared at him as you crossed your arms defiantly.

“Please.” He said softly, his eyes pleading.

You sighed slightly, caving to his soft expression. You dropped into a seat beside him, dramatically dropping your hands into your lap. You tilted your head to look at him as you waited for his questions.

“What happened to your hands?” He started with.

“What about them?” You asked, lifting your now makeup covered hands. You used a bathroom break during the only class between morning and lunch you had without Peter to quickly cover the bruises.

“In Physics when you were taking notes, you kept making a noise when you held your pen. Like it hurt.” He pressed.

“I shut my finger in my window last night…” You said quietly, as if you were embarrassed. 

Peter was growing more and more suspicious of your sudden injuries. He knew you had been playing softball for years and wore a facemask when you pitched. He knew you didn’t open your window at night because you didn’t like moths getting into your room. He was starting to wonder if something else was going on, something you couldn’t tell him.

“What about your dad?” He changed the subject, deciding he’d hang around your apartment later that night on patrol.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you who he was.” You laughed in annoyance. “Everybody knows my dad.”

“Your dad is a celebrity?” Peter teased with half a smile.

“Oh, ha ha.” You mocked with a smile. “I’m serious!”

“I know, I know.” He chuckled. “Okay. Who is he?”

“See, you know him.” You argued, trying to find a way to tell Peter without telling Peter. “I mean, I never made it obvious that you knew him but you do… You met him kinda recently…”

“The only celebrity I’ve met recently is Mr. Stark.” Peter answered in confusion. You cringed slightly, covering your eyes and shaking your head. “Mr. Stark is you d-”

“Shut up!” You hurried to cover his mouth. “Why do you think I never told anyone!? Tony never cared about me before so I don’t acknowledge that we’re family.”

“Y/N, that is awesome!” He geeked.

“No, it fucking sucks.” You countered. “Pete, my mom left him when I was born because she didn’t want to be part of what Stark Industries does. Did. And then he went and made the Iron Man suit and became a hero.” You rolled your eyes. “He was the biggest weapons supplier in the country and suddenly he’s the good guy? It’s bullshit.”

“Mr. Stark is a good guy.” Peter defended gently, a slight shrug in his shoulders.

“I’m glad you like him.” You said honestly. “My mom still likes him too… I just can’t. You know how I feel about that whole superhero stuff.”

“I mean..” Peter casually shrugged. “Not all superheros are bad… Y’know, like Spiderman.”

“Yeah, Spiderman.” You scoffed, remembering the reason behind your lingering black eye and bruised knuckles. “I’m sure he’s great.”

“You don’t like Spiderman either?” Peter asked sadly.

“It’s nothing personal!” You argued quickly. “I mean, he’s probably some random guy pushing his mid-20’s that thought he could make it big time with Captain America and Iron Man. But from someone who has seen it, Tony Stark doesn’t care about the little guy.” You covered.

“I- I wouldn’t say Mr. Stark doesn’t care.”

“I would.” You confirmed. “Peter, you and I obviously know two different Tony Starks. And that’s fine. You met one who actually wants to mentor and care about a kid. I’ve never even met the one I know so... I guess we’ll see how it goes when he comes to town in a few days.”

“Right…” Peter trailed off, turning his attention to his food.

Pete had always known how you felt about heroes. He knew you were never their biggest fan, but you never really explained why. Peter never pressed the issue because he figured that you would tell him when you wanted, and he didn’t want to risk exposing his alter ego. But knowing that you hated heroes because your dad was Iron Man only made things more complicated. He started to wonder if Mr. Stark knew he was dating you. He wondered if Mr. Stark was purposefully absent in your life. Peter felt like he was in the middle of a war, being urged to pick a side. Peter wanted to be Switzerland, to remain neutral.

Later that night, you left your apartment building in your costume. You wandered aimlessly, not knowing what you were even doing on the streets anymore. You felt like your alter ego was a chore now, something you had to keep up for Spiderman’s sake and less of your own. You blew out a defeated sigh, realizing another idealized figure in a mask had swallowed an aspect of your life.

With no other outlets, you turned and slammed your fist through the glass of a nearby bus stop. The remaining fragments showed an etched image of Spiderman. The shards dripped, the yellow glow of a nearby streetlight giving the blood an unnatural hue. You shook your hand, a stinging sensation shooting through.

“Son of a bitch.” You mumbled, knocking out the rest of the glass. You held your hand close to your chest, pressing hard with the other to slow the bleeding.

“We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this.” A familiar voice came from above you. Looking up, you saw Spiderman perched on the roof of the bus stop. “Did you break that picture of me?”

“A well deserved breaking, I think.” You smiled tightly. Sliding your meter to a higher pitch, you softened your expression to mimic a plea. “Please Spiderman, I need help. My hand is bleeding and it- it hurts.” You feigned fear, sniffling to add effect.

Spiderman jumped off and landed softly in front of you. He cautiously held his hand out for you to take so he could examine the injury. Once he was close enough, you reached out to grab him by the forearm. You twisted his arm outward, driving your knee up into his ribs. When he doubled over, you slammed an elbow against his spine to lay him out.

Peter groaned slightly, rolling onto his back. All he wanted was to go to your apartment building and see what you were up to. He just wanted to check on his girlfriend, but no. Nothing was ever simple for Spiderman. He didn’t even know if Heretic had a goal when she started fights with him. He was starting to think she just wanted to annoy him.

“Y’know, Heretic.” Spiderman mumbled from the ground, causing you to freeze. “It’s not nice to trick people.”

With an eye roll, you reset your vocal meter and turned to face the spandex suited boy. “You think I care what you have to say?” You laughed. “I couldn’t care less what you think about me, Spiderman. Did you ever stop to think that people like me pop up because of people like you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Spiderman asked, carefully pushing himself up to a crouching position. You stood fully, gesturing to yourself as you spoke again.

“Everything I can do is because of tech I developed.” You explained. “My mask has a neurotransmitter that’s linked to my knives that are coated in different chemical compounds that trigger different bodily responses. My vocal range is due to a soundwave manipulator that can change my pitch. My shoes are completely sound-proof. Nothing about what I do is natural.”

“But what does that have to do with me?”

“Villains arise to challenge heros.” You clarified. “If this wasn’t a world of superheros, I wouldn’t be doing this. I’d be a different person.”

“What if you could still be a different person?” Spiderman offered, standing to be eye level with you.

You scoffed slightly, crossing your arms. “How? Pulling a Tony Stark and suddenly deciding I’m going to be the good guy? Suddenly realizing that what I do hurts people so I need to make amends? Oh, but I won’t make amends to the people I’ve hurt. No, I’ll hide behind a suit and be a vigilante. That’ll be my redemption, right?”

Peter stood there in shock, dumbfounded for a moment. He was starting to connect the dots, but he was hoping he was wrong. He was praying that he was wrong. Peter was starting to wonder if Y/N and Heretic were the same person. He realized how many things were lining up. Every night he fought Heretic, Y/N came to school with an injury. Every night that he talked to Heretic, she brought up superheros and how she hated the thought. But something about the Tony Stark speech, the deep rooted pain that was conveyed in her words, it was painfully familiar. But Peter knew better than to speak on it.

In a split second decision, Peter bailed.

“Gotta go!” He said quickly before swinging away.

You watched Spiderman leave in surprise. Spiderman never ran from fights between you two. It was seemingly out of character for him, but you shrugged it off. You didn’t care enough to follow him nor did you care enough to really think about it. You simply headed home, trying to figure out how you’d explain your busted knuckles to your mom and Peter.

What you didn’t see was where Spiderman went. Peter decided to test his theory, to do a little investigating of his own. He swung to the building across from yours. He could see the fire escape outside your window. He always knew which one was yours because you kept Christmas lights shaped like snowflakes around the bars. You had explained your reasoning for keeping them up to him one night, saying you kept them up so you would have cute lighting for night pictures and so you would have light when you two sat on the fire escape at night.

Peter waited for what felt like forever. He had almost given up his suspicions when he saw Heretic climbing the ladders. He was pleading for her to keep climbing, to keep going past your window and he could put the whole idea to bed.

His heart dropped when he saw you enter your window.

“She’s Heretic…” He said sadly, defeated almost. “I can’t tell her now… Maybe I can’t tell her at all.” He reasoned with himself as he headed home. “She hates Spiderman. She’ll hate me. What she finds out and breaks up with me? Oh my god.”

The next day was Saturday. You woke up to a throbbing pain in your hand. Looking over, you saw your knuckles swollen and red, covered in dried blood. Sighing in annoyance mixed with regret, you dipped a nearby shirt in a glass of water on your nightstand. You gently scrubbed some of the dried blood, wincing when you pressed too hard.

“Honey!” Your mom called from down the hall.

“Yeah, Ma?” You yelled in response, quickly dropping the shirt before her head popped in.

“Get ready.” She said simply. “Tony is coming today.”

“He’s actually coming?”

“Yes!” She said happily. “God, I haven’t seen him in years.” She sighed dreamily.

“Can Peter come over too?” You asked, leaning to the other end of your bed where your phone was charging.

“You want Peter to know?”

“He already knows.” You shrugged in defeat. “He pried it out of me at lunch yesterday.”

“If you’d be more comfortable, sure.” She smiled softly. “Now at least shower and put on real clothes.”

“Alright, alright.” You laughed, pushing yourself out of bed.

“What happened to your hand?”

“I was on the fire escape last night and one of the-” You tried to explain.

“Stop.” Your mom cut you off. “I don’t want you to keep lying to me, Y/N. Are you doing this to yourself?”

“What?” You asked in shock. “No! No, Mom. I’m not doing this to myself. I’ve just been distracted lately with this whole Tony thing that I haven’t been paying attention that much. The truth is I spilled some chemicals on my hand yesterday in Chemistry and I was embarrassed about it so I didn’t say anything…”

“Oh, honey.” She sighed, coming into your room to sit next to you on your bed. “I know this is a lot to process, but I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“I’m only doing this cause you asked me to. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. Thank you, by the way.”

“Thank me when it’s over.” You smiled slightly.

While you got ready, you messaged Peter that you wanted him to come over. He told you he had to do some paperwork for his Stark internship first and then he’d come over. Instead, Peter had called Mr. Stark who was stopping at Peter’s apartment before he made his way to your home.

“What do you need, Kid?” Tony asked Peter. “I have somewhere else to be today.”

“Yeah, Y/N’s place.” Peter filled in, keeping his eyes on his busy fingers.

“She told you?”

“Yeah…” Peter nodded carefully. “But there’s something else I need your advice on.”

“Spit it out then.” Tony said, waving his hand to coax Peter. “Her mom is gonna kill me if I’m late.”

“Well, you know how I’ve been fighting this new villain…”

“Heretic, yeah. What about her?”

“I know who she is… And the problem is that I know her.” Peter explained. He didn’t want to say Y/N’s name when he was talking to Mr. Stark because he didn’t know how Mr. Stark would react. After all, he still loved Y/N. That much didn’t change.

Peter was only bringing it up because he was scared. He knew from the start that telling Y/N he was Spiderman was going to be hard since she didn’t like heroes to begin with. But now that he knew she was Heretic, knew that she was doing what she was doing because of him, it scared him. He was scared of how his relationship with her would change. He didn’t want to lose her. He couldn’t lose her. She meant so much to him, more than he could ever put into words, but now there was an even bigger elephant in the room.

“What do you mean, you know her?” Tony asked carefully.

“I go to school with her. I have classes with her. I hang out with her!” Peter’s voice began rising, panic lifting the octaves in his voice. “Me and her get along! But she hates superheroes. A- and she doesn’t know that I’m Spiderman. But if I told her now, what if she stops talking to me? She’s already thrown me off a building so if she knows, I don’t know what it’s gonna do to-”

“Back up.” Tony interjected. “She threw you off a building?”

“Yeah, but I was fine.” Peter shrugged it off. “The point is, Mr. Stark, I don’t know what to do.”

Tony paused, thinking about what he wanted to say next. He could tell that Peter was upset and scared. Tony was wondering how important could this girl be to him, especially if he’s already dating Y/N. Tony shrugged it off as being a childhood friend, but he still chose his next words carefully.

“You got two options.” Tony said, holding out both hands. He lifted his right slightly higher. “First option, call her out on it. It’d probably expose you since she interacts mostly with Spiderman.” He leveled his right and lifted his left. “Second option, you tell her who you are and see if she exposes herself. Either way, you have to tell her who you are.”

“What if she hates me for it?” Peter asked softly.

“Doesn’t seem like you have a lot of faith in her.” Tony questioned.

“I do!” Peter corrected quickly. “But… I can’t lose her, Mr. Stark.”

“Who is she to you anyway?” Tony pressed. “You break up with Y/N or something?”

“No, no, we’re still together. She’s just someone I’ve known for a long time.”

“You’re not cheating on my daughter, are you, Parker?”

“It’s so weird hearing you call her your daughter.” Peter laughed nervously. “But I’m not cheating on her. I would never.”

With a satisfied nod, Tony motioned for Peter to follow him. Together they went to your place. You sat in the living room with your mom. You had covered up the lingering black eye and bruises along your knuckles. You couldn’t do anything about the cuts so those were left in the open. You were dressed decently, a simple white t-shirt with a blue flannel and jeans. Your mom was a bit more dressed up, and while normally you’d tease her, you knew why she was doing that. So you let it be.

Peter entered first, knocking three quick taps before letting himself in. He placed himself next to you, saying he finished his internship stuff sooner than he thought so he headed over. You leaned against him, his arm wrapping around you. A few minutes later, someone else knocked on the door. Your mom jumped up, hurrying to open the door.

“I’m gonna throw up.” You muttered, rolling your eyes.

“You’ll be fine.” Peter chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead. “If it goes well, want to go get ice cream after?”

“What if you spend the night instead?” You countered, turning to look at him with a gentle pout. “Please, Pete. We can make sundaes and binge Star Wars.”

“Don’t give me that look.” He groaned, pushing your face away with a laugh. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

“Love you.” You said in triumph.

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.”

“Y/N, I’d like you to meet your father.” Your mom said as she came back into the living room with Tony Stark following behind her.

Suddenly, you were at a loss for words.You never thought the man would actually show, but there he was in your living room. He was dressed nice, as expected. A sharp suit with slightly tinted glasses. He smiled softly, and it seemed to be real. All of the snarky comments you had planned to use were suddenly forgotten. You were just a lonely kid again, wondering why her dad was gone.

“Hmm.” You managed through closed lips, nodding in acknowledgment. You saw the look your mother flashed you, one reminding you that you had promised to try. Peter nudged you slightly, urging you to say something more. “Glad I got to actually meet you before I turned eighteen. Here I was thinking you forgot I existed.”

You had intended for it to come out sharp, to inflict damage to his ego if nothing else. But hearing your own voice, it felt strange. Your words had no edge, no venom. Only pain. Loneliness. But your resentment wouldn’t show in your voice, no matter how badly you wanted it to.

“Peter and your mom have told me a lot about you.” Tony opened with, sitting on the loveseat with your mom. “Did you get the letter I sent?”

“The Stark Industries letter?” You laughed. “Yeah, trashed it.”

“What letter?” Peter asked carefully. “Y/N…”

“It was a joke.” You said flatly, not looking at Peter.

“I offered her a summer job.” Tony explained. “With the opportunity for something more permanent if she wanted it after summer.”

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me?” Peter asked you.

“Can we talk about this later?” You urged quietly.

Peter nodded slightly, muttering a response before losing himself in his own thoughts. He knew you’d rant to him about how the conversation went anyways, so he wasn’t missing anything by zoning out. He was more concerned with how to explain that he knew you were Heretic. He didn’t want to lose you because he was Spiderman, but he couldn’t keep fighting you.

“You never called.” You said to Tony, trying to maintain the level in your voice. “You sent a birthday card and that was it…”

“I thought it’d be best if-”

“If you pretended I didn’t exist.” You cut in. “I get it.”

“It’s not like that, kid.” Tony sighed.

“Then what is it like? You ran the most successful weapons corporation in the country but stopped production because you saw the pain you were causing. So you changed Stark Industries to something that was better. You created your Iron Man suit to be a vigilante that protected the nation. Until your old coworker got ideas. Then it was the son of one of Grandpa’s old friends, one that helped create your Arc Reactor. Oh, and then the Mandarin, right? Fast forward a bit and now you’re running the Avengers. You can do all of this to try to make the world a better place but you can’t be a family man?” You pressed. Once you started speaking your mind, the words wouldn’t stop. The words flowed like water from a broken faucet, unable to be stopped. “How you gonna fix this? You can’t even fix yourself!”

“Y/N, honey, let’s calm down a bit.” Your mom tried to settle you.

Your hands were now trembling, your eyes were burning with tears that wanted to be released. You wanted to cry out of sadness, out of anger. You were finally getting the chance to take the weight off your chest, to stop blaming yourself for why Tony was never in your life. You were able to get the answers you wanted since you were a child. But something about that chance was scarier than when you took up your alter ego.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” You shook your head. “But I can’t. It’s not fair for him to put the world as a priority when he can’t even put his family in the top ten. You still love him even though you know he doesn’t care about us. He cares about you, if that.”

“What do you want me to say?” Tony tried calmly. “You want me to ask to move in with me at the Tower? Cause you’re both more than welcome to. Your boy Peter is there all the time for internship stuff. You can still go to Midtown.”

“You think trying to be in my life now is going to fix what you did?” You laughed as you shook your head. “Tony, I don’t want your money! I don’t want you to suddenly pretend like you want to be a father to me. What I want is the truth.”

“You want the truth?” Tony pressed.

“Yes.”

“Because it’s what your mom wanted!” Tony answered quickly. “When she left, she asked for me to keep my lifestyle away from you guys… She just wanted you to have a normal childhood, Y/N.”

“What?” You asked carefully, turning your attention to your mom. “You asked him to stay out of my life?”

“I didn’t want you to be in danger.” She said softly, sadly almost. “I know I made a mistake, but I’m trying to fix it. Why do you think I reached out after all these years?”

“Don’t try to make it sound like you did this for me, Mom.” You stood suddenly. “I’m not responsible for your self-made obstacles.”

With that final line, you went to your room and shut the door. You couldn’t control your tears anymore, covering your face with your hands to muffle your sobs. Your heart felt heavy, shattered deep in your chest. The pain felt like you couldn’t breathe. You grew up hating your father, superheroes, and everything they stood for. You created an alter ego to let out that hatred, to focus all of your pain on one source. On Spiderman. But now, now it all felt misplaced.

A light tap at your door sounded before it opened. You were on your floor, arms crossed over your bed under your head. Your chest was rising and falling heavily, your breaths shallow and broken. The bed dipped with the weight of a body and a different hand landed on your back.

Peaking up, you saw Tony sitting on the edge of your bed. Glancing to the side, you saw Peter on the floor next to you. You sat up with a sigh, wiping your face with your blanket. You laughed nervously, casually using your foot to kick your duffle full of Heretic gear deeper under your bed.

“I guess I owe you an apology, Tony.” You said, your voice raspy and sad. “I guess I just needed someone to blame...”

“You didn’t know.” Tony reassured you. “You were right to be angry, Y/N. I should’ve done more, even if your mom asked me not to. See, I was always worried that I was going to end up like my old man so I used that as an excuse to stay away. But! I was wrong. My offer still stands for you to come stay at the Tower.”

“I can’t leave my mom.” You shook your head. “She’s all I’ve ever had… Other than Peter.”

“Y/N, I- I kinda have to tell you something.” Peter said carefully.

“This is the girl!?” Tony cut in suddenly. “Now might not be the best time.” Tony said with a quick shake of his head.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, since people are being honest, I um- I have a secret… A pretty big secret.” Peter continued.

“Peter.” Tony said. “Don’t do it.”

“Wait, Dad. Hold on.” You waved Tony off, focusing on Peter. “What kind of secret?”

“Aw, you called him Dad.” Peter smiled before focusing back on his reveal. “Okay, so you know my internship? Well, it’s not qui-”

“Quite an internship anymore.” Tony cut in, throwing his hands to the side in a grand reveal. “Congrats, kid. You’re officially part of the team.”

“Wait, what?” Peter questioned. “No, that’s not-”

“That’s really great, Peter.” You hugged him tightly. “Although, I wish you didn’t make it sound so bad. I thought you were going to say you had a secret life or something.”

“Yeah… Sorry.” Peter chuckled nervously. “Guess I could’ve worded it better, huh?”

“I’m happy for you, baby.” You smiled as you pulled away, kissing his cheek quickly. You stood, turning your attention to Tony. “As for you, we can’t change the past… And I get that you were just doing what my mom asked, but there’s a lot of built up resentment towards you and superheroes.”

“Well, you have a superhero family whenever you want it.” Tony offered you his hand to shake. “Go on. Shake my hand.”

“Why?”

“Shake it first.”

“No, tell me first. I’m not going to agree to something without knowing the facts.”

“Fair enough.” Tony nodded. “We agree to spend time with each other once a week, alternating in who picks the activities. You’re my daughter, Y/N. And contrary to what you may think of me, I do want you in my life.”

“I can agree to that.” You smiled slightly, shaking his hand.

“And we tell each other something new everytime we meet up.” Tony added. “I’ll go first. I know you use the credit card I gave you for knife-throwing lessons, martial arts, throwing knives, and a lot of biochemicals. Now you go.”

“What?”

You were dumbstruck. You hadn’t even thought about the fact that all of your purchases were on the bill that was sent to Tony. You felt like an idiot, not even thinking about whether or not Tony would read the bill. Let alone that he would call you out on it in front of Peter.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tried.

“Yes, you do.” Peter sighed. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about… We know that you’re Heretic.”

“How do you know about Heretic?” You turned on Peter, eyes squinting in suspicion.

“The black eye. The busted and bruised knuckles. The fact that you come to school more and more tired every day. Y/N, I know something is up. The other night I saw Heretic climbing through your window and-”

“Your apartment is five blocks away, Peter.” You cut in. “There’s no way you could’ve seen anything from your apartment. Were you spying on me?”

“No, I-”

“Did you have someone else spy on me?”

“No, I just-”

“Then how did you see anything?”

“Because he’s Spiderman.” Tony said plainly. “Sorry, Peter, but you weren’t getting anywhere.”

“You’re…” You spoke carefully, processing the sentence. “You both need to leave. Now.”

“Y/N, baby, please don’t do this.” Peter tried.

“Leave!”

In silence, both of the boys walked out of your room and out of your apartment. You locked your door, ignoring your mother’s knocks and conversation attempts. You laid in bed until the next morning, simply staring at the ceiling. Your mind was racing, looping back to the conversation in your bedroom. You wanted to scream, to cry, to curse the universe. But all you could do was stare numbly at your popcorned ceiling. You felt empty, like you had truly lost everything. You had nothing. You were nothing, a hollow shell of who you had been mere hours ago.

[imagine-docx]

the cute barista and his crisis.

Summary: You spent the night at home, while your roommates were out partying. Suddenly, a random number called you ranting to you about how much he hates life. [college!barista!]

Warnings: hella sexual jokes and references, swearing, and hating post-secondary, as per usual.

A/N:  hope you guys are still doing well and i hope you guys are staying safe! 💛 - Amanda

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Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday consisted of either early morning classes, midday classes, and the occasional class that ran past 8 pm. Fridays were the only day you can claim as yours, but of course, you had to work.

It was Thursday and the cool New York air was engulfing you and your roommates as the three of you made your way to the usual coffee shop that was a little bit off campus. “Gonna ogle the cute barista again?” Wanda nudged.

“Ah yes, young love,” Nat snickered. 

“Shut up,” you felt the heat rise up to your cheeks, “I think he’s cute, but he probably has so many girls fawning over him.”

“Remember, we are the one cute girls in the coffee shop,” Nat said, opening the door, “After you, m’lady.”

That resulted in you and Wanda letting out a laugh, “Okay incel,” Wanda responded. The three of you glanced up at the menu, “I’m feeling tea today, but what kind?” Wanda said.

“After that comment, poison flavoured,” Nat muttered.

You let out a laugh, “You’re quite spicy today, go for a spiced tea.”

Wanda stuck her tongue out at Nat, “That’s why she’s my favourite roommate,” Glancing back at the menu, “Is Russian spiced tea good?” 

“I don’t know, ask your favourite roommate,” Nat said.

“Bitch.” 

The cute blond barista came up to the register, “You ready? Or do you need another minute?”

You felt Nat pinch your left ass cheek, and you nudge your elbow into her ribcage, “Yeah. Can I get a caramel iced coffee?” 

“Of course, what else?” He asked.

“Can I get a cinnamon dolce latte?” Nat spoke keeping her hand near your ass cheeks.

“Of course, and for you?” He indirectly asked Wanda.

“Russian spiced tea please.” She spoke.

“That’s $17.60, here or to go?” He asked.

“Here,” Wanda said, while digging in her backpack for her wallet, “Credit please?”

“Aww, we love it when our sugar daddy treats us,” You snickered, resulting in a laugh from Nat and the barista.

“It’s only because she bought dinner and you bought dessert last night,” she grumbled.

“Go take a seat, and I’ll bring the drinks over when they’re done.” He spoke, which resulted in a hums of thank you from the three of you and you guys walked over to the usual booth you guys inhabited when you were here.

“Is there a reason that my poor ass cheek got abused?” You asked.

“He was checking you out,” Nat bluntly stated.

“No he wasn’t, he was doing his job.” You stated. 

“And I am a natural redhead,” she sarcastically said.

“Wait, it's dye?” Wanda practically cried out.

The three of you laughed, and went over your plans for the next weekend. Nat had work and was doing rehearsal for the Russian dance competition that was happening in a few weeks. Wanda had to work and was also seeing her brother Pietro on Sunday. You on the other hand had to work, and had to have a comparative essay done by Monday. 

“You’re so lucky you’re done your midterms,” Wanda said, “I’m still struggling trying to wrap my head around platyhelminths.”

“But see, you watched me and laughed at me for only surviving off of coffee and fruit snacks for three weeks straight. Now I am prospering and living my life and you have a midterm on Monday,” you said.

“You looked like death around the apartment,” Nat laughed, and the cute barista brought over your drinks.

“Russian spiced tea, cinnamon dolce latte, and caramel iced coffee,” he said, passing around the drinks, “And a tiramisu square.”

“Uh, we didn’t order this?” Nat asked. 

“The table over there sent it,” he responded, pointing his head over to where a group of boys were sitting.

“Thank you,” the three of you hummed and there went the barista.

“You know,” Nat leaned into you, “He has a nice ass.”

“Nat,” You hissed.

“America is proud of that ass,” Wanda snickered.

Suddenly the group of boys that sent the dessert got louder, trying to get your attention. You rolled your eyes, “God, I hate men.”

“Except for the pretty blond one with a nice ass,” Nat said, digging into the tiramisu. 

“I second that,” Wanda said, taking a bite of the piece on her spoon.

Suddenly the frat boy cult got even louder, Nat rolled her eyes, and moved your hair from the base of your neck, “What are you-” Then came a long lick from the base of your neck to your jawline. Suddenly the frat boy cult shut up, “Jesus Christ, warn a girl.”

“Why are you acting all shy now? You weren’t this shy last weekend when I was doing body shots off of you at the back of the apartment,” Nat said, nonchalantly.

“You may have shut up the frat boy cult, but the cute barista is so red you can confuse him for a bottle of ketchup.” Wanda stated.

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

Two weeks have passed, and you would go into the coffee shop whenever you had over an hour worth of a gap, or before work. Today is one of those days. It was Friday, and you were due to start your shift in forty-five minutes. 

Walking into the shop, there was the cute barista working the front. You didn’t catch the way his eyes practically lit up upon seeing you. “Just you today?” He asked.

“Yes sir,” you said, giving him a smile.

“Caramel iced coffee?” He asked.

“Of course,” you said, digging in your bag for your wallet. 

“Don’t worry, it's on the house.” He said, “Here or to go?”

“To go, please.”

“You got it doll,” and with that you stood off to the side and waited for him to make your drink. 

“Caramel iced coffee,” he called out.

“Thank you, have a good day,” you called out before making your way to your shift.

“You know you look like a lovesick puppy,” Bucky said to Steve.

“That obvious?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah. Also, remember, Happy is gonna take that coffee out of your paycheque,” Bucky said patting Steve’s back.

“If it’s for her, Happy can have my entire paycheque.” Steve responded, going to clean up.

“Ugh, teenagers and their hormones,” Bucky spoke.

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

You, Wanda, and Nat sat on your shared living room floor eating the steamed dumplings and sushi that you ordered for dinner. “So you saw the cute barista boy today,” Wanda said, “Soy sauce please.”

Nat handed her the sauce before taking a california roll for herself, “His ass still thick?”

You nearly choked on the dumpling you were eating, “Fucking Christ, Nat.”

“You can’t miss that ass!” Nat tried justifying, “He walks in, and his ass walks in five minutes later.”

Wanda choked on her iced tea, “He wore this white shirt that was way too tight for him, God that left nothing to the imagination,” you said recalling the way his muscles moved when making your coffee.

“Someone’s having a wet dream tonight,” Wanda said.

You threw a soy sauce packet at her head, “No! I don’t even know his name.”

“See that’s a problem, she can’t moan his name if she doesn’t know his name.” Nat laughed.

You threw a soy sauce packet at her head, “The both of you need to get laid.”

“So do you sweetheart, and by the big muscular blond with the thick ass who works at The Petite Bean.” Wanda said, nearly dodging another soy sauce packet.

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

The next Friday night you were at home by yourself eating a sandwich from the bodega that was next to your building. Wanda and Nat went to this party, you wanted to go, but after your shift, you were exhausted and just decided to call it a night. 

Taking the last bite of your turkey sandwich, you got up and threw everything out, and decided to go and take a long hot shower. You stood at the tv debating whether or not you should turn off the documentary on whales, but you decided not to as it helps serve as background noise.

You showered and threw on a massive NYU hoodie and some pyjama shorts. Getting out of the shower, you headed back to the kitchen, dug around in the cabinets for a snack of a sort, and headed back to your position on the couch. 

You were scrolling through your Instagram, when a random number called you. You answered because you never know it could be Nat or Wanda in trouble. “Hello?”

You heard a shaky breath from the other side, “Oh sorry, I have the wrong number.”

“Hey, before you hang up, are you okay?” You asked.

“Not really-”

You cut him off, “Did you want to talk about it? I have the time.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna bother you,” the man from the other side of the line said.

“Of course, shoot,” you said.

“Midterms got the worst of me. I’m practically failing chemistry, why did I take chem? Like I’m an art major, the fuck am I doing in science? Then the girl I dated for a little keeps coming by the place I work at with the man she cheated on me with, and that shit still stings. Then, there’s this cute girl who keeps coming by the place I work, and I can’t seem to talk to her. She’s like this ball of sunshine, and I don’t think I can talk to her. Do you have anything fucked up happening in your life? Or is the lord hating on me?” 

You laughed, “Unfortunately, no. With the chem thing, don’t be so hard on yourself. Courses get to the best of us, we are so reliant on a GPA, when it doesn’t even guarantee a job after practically killing ourselves for this degree. Failing one course isn’t so bad, just don’t fail more than three, that might result in academic probation. Honestly, if she cheated on you, fuck her. She doesn’t deserve any of your attention, if she was the one who gave you up. And with the other girl, just slowly ease her into it, ask her how her day has been, ask her about the weather, if she’s holding a book or something, try to bond with her about that.”

“You sound like a psych major,” he joked.

“Psych minor,” you corrected, “Socio major. From what I know you can’t be a science major. So what do you major in?” 

“Art history, and minor in regular history.”

“Oh, we got a huge history fan don’t we?” You joked.

“Biggest nerd in Brooklyn.”

That same night the two of you stayed talking until 4:30 am, before he heard you yawning and telling you to get some sleep. You both bidded your goodnights and the moment your head hit the pillow, you knocked out.

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

The following morning, or afternoon at that point. You stumbled into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, and heard Wanda and Nat groaning about how they need Advil. You opened the door to Nat’s room and saw the two of them practically cuddling. You threw two bottles of water, and the bottle of Advil at them before heading to the washroom to brush your teeth. 

Once you were done, you sat on the counter of the kitchen drinking your coffee, you heard stumbling from the hallway. Suddenly, a disheveled Nat appeared, she was sporting bedhead, smeared makeup, a black lace bra and some random sleeping shorts that looked like they belonged to Wanda. “Good morning sweetheart,” you cooed.

She flipped you off before making herself a cup of coffee, “Never drinking again.”

“Nat,” Wanda whined, “Please I need a cuddle buddy.”

“You have another roommate,” Nat reminded her.

Wanda nudged your legs open and curled up into your frame, “My favourite.”

You laughed while patting her head, “What happened?”

“So much booze, free booze.” Nat stated.

Free booze to university kids was like feeding candy to a toddler. “Alright cuddlebug. I have errands to do, I gotta go shower.” You said trying to push away Wanda.

“No, please don’t.” Wanda latching onto you harder.

“She’s gonna make her way down to Manhattan to see the cute barista,” Nat joked.

“Harhar, I’m going to the bank and I need to mail out this return. The green dress was too big, had to order a size down.” You said, finishing off your coffee, finally pushing off Wanda, “Also why the fuck would I go to Manhattan to see the barista.”

“Dick makes you do crazy things baby girl.” Nat said.

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

While you were getting dressed your mind ran onto the man who called you last night and ranted to you about his life. You decided to call him back and check up on him. After three rings he picked up, “Hello?”

“Hey, you called me last night and we talked for an hour and a half about some super deep stuff, you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks for checking up on me.” He spoke.

“Not a problem, if you ever need to rant, you can always text me.” You said shoving your wallet into your bag.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna burden.” He asked.

“If you need a friend, I am here for you.” You said.

You two exchanged names, before both of you had to go. And that started your texting relationship with a man named Steve Rogers.

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

You came back home from your errands trip and brought bagels for the two hungover disasters you call your roommates. You walked back in and saw Wanda and Nat under the pink fur blanket watching the whale documentary you were watching last night. “My baby is back,” Wanda said excitedly.

“I bring bagels, because bagels make us happy when we are hungover.” You said placing the bag on the table, “Two rainbow bagels with strawberry cream cheese. Two poppy seed bagels with tuna salad on both.” You said handing each of them their own bagels. 

You grabbed your own two before plopping next to them, “If barista boy doesn’t domesticate you, I will.” Nat said.

You laughed before you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you got a message from Steve asking about the bagel place you usually get your stuff from. “Who’s Steve?” Wanda asked.

“New mans?” Nat exclaimed.

“You’re replacing barista boy before you could even dick him down?” Wanda cried out.

“No, Jesus. I haven’t even met Steve-” Wrong phrasing you used there.

“You’re back on tinder?” Wanda asked, “I thought we were doing it together.”

“No, he accidentally called me last night and we talked for an hour.” You said nonchalantly taking a bite out of your bagel.

“A threesome with barista boy and Steve? Wow someone’s getting some,” Nat said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Jesus Christ Nat.”

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

As per usual, you made your way into the cafe getting coffee before your shift. Noticing the barista, you again missed the gleam in his eyes when he saw you. He mustered up the courage, “Hey, how are you?”

“I’m good, how are you?”

“I’m doing good,” You smiled.

Steve felt his knees weaken at your smile, “The usual?”

“The usual,” you said, paying and going to message the roommate group chat about the tight light blue shirt barista boy was wearing today.

“Alright, here you go.” He said sliding you the coffee and a straw.

“Thank you, have a good day,” you said before slipping out of the shop and heading to work.

“So you took the girls advice and asked her about her day, look at you making big moves.” Bucky nudged Steve.

“One step at a time Buck,” he said, going to clean up his station.

“Hey, you better have not given her another free coffee,” Bucky called out.

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

After several weeks of messaging Steve, you learned he also attended NYU and both of you worked around your schedules, trying to meet up. The two of you finally decided to meet on campus. You picked a morning where you, Nat and Wanda had a two hour gap just in case something happened and he was in fact a 50 year old pervert with a thing for third year students.

You: hey i’m in the student centre

Steve: Hey, I’m sitting, I’m wearing a black jacket and a white t-shirt

You looked up and almost screamed, as if the gods were playing a joke on you. It was your cute barista boy. Okay, being rational, he could happen to be here at the same time, wearing the same out- nope, no way. “Steve?” You asked, approaching the table.

Looking up from his phone, he was shocked as well, “H-hi,” he stuttered out.

“Can I sit?” You asked.

“Of course.”

“So I guess you were helping me, try and talk to you,” he finally spoke out.

“Wait, what?” You asked, confused.

“The girl I was messaging you about, was you,” he sheepishly said.

You didn’t know how to respond, “Really?”

“Yeah, if you don’t feel the same that’s okay.” Steve said looking down at his fingers.

You took his hand in yours, “No, I like you too.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, Nat keeps trying to get me to ask you out. But I kept talking myself out of it.” You said.

“How about I treat you to the finest thing this campus has to offer and we can talk about how we both are idiots,” he offered.

“It better be the Wendy’s,” you joked.

“Only the finest for the finest,” he winked at you, resulting in the blush staining your cheeks. He stood up and put his hand out, upon standing up you took his hand and was about to exit the student centre. 

You heard Nat speak loudly to Wanda, “She’s getting dick, I’m so proud of her.” You wanted the ground to create a blackhole and swallow you whole. 

Until you heard another voice, “BuckBuck! Our baby Steve is all grown up and getting pussy.”

You looked to see Steve blushing, turning back and flipping him off, “Fuck off Sam.”

Of course, both of your roommates were the worst.

[winzenni]

i like u (jung jaehyun)

Summary: Having caught feelings for your friend with benefits, you decide to cut him off for good. However, as expected, things don't turn out according to plan.

Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: fwb!jaehyun, college!au

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: inspired by the lyrics of “i like u” by Niki! Also tw!very slight smut

“Y/n, can you come over today?” his honey-like voice echoes over the phone.

“U-um, sorry, I don’t think I can, Jaehyun,” you half-heartedly force yourself to say. “I-I’m really busy with the upcoming chem final. I can’t fail this one.”

“Maybe a little stress relief is what you need. We can... study together.” You can literally hear the smirk on his face, dripping with lust.

“Sorry, Jaehyun, I can’t.”

You should’ve known Jung Jaehyun would be a troublemaker in your life. From the moment you first met in high school, when all the girls swarmed around him but he only wanted to talk to you, to when he took you to the senior prom (as friends), to when he proposed becoming friends with benefits in college.

The two of you had always gotten along well and balanced on the line between friends and lovers; that’s just how well you two got along. When he proposed friends with benefits, you thought nothing could go wrong. You guys liked each other enough to be friends and you already knew each other like the back of your hand; from favorite colors to hidden kinks. You should’ve known that like in the cliché movies, romantic feelings would arise.

You can’t do this anymore. This friends-with-benefits thing. He treated you better than anyone else could; he caressed you with care and gentle touches. At the end, he always made sure to take care of you. Sex with him was always more than enough, but at the same time, never enough. Because at the end of the day, he was off without a second thought for you. You were just his comfort and stress relief, his toy when he was bored. But these days, he felt like more than that to you. Lying in bed beside him, you couldn’t help but notice: his beautiful, peachy skin that you couldn’t help but stare at. The way he held you in bed like he cared about you as a lover rather than just a sex partner. In the past few weeks, as your feelings for Jaehyun grew, you decided you needed to distance yourself from him. Resist him just a little longer, and soon, he would get bored of you and leave, and you would never have to worry about him again.

Every day, Jaehyun asked you to come over, but you rejected him with a lame excuse each time, either about studying, not feeling in the mood, or being busy some other way. You just needed to last the weekend, just two more days. Then take your final on Monday, then worry about completely forgetting about Jaehyun later.

You couldn’t even focus in your lecture without thoughts of Jaehyun clouding your mind. Everywhere you looked, your mind turned to Jaehyun and recalled the sound of his golden, honey voice, the way his fingers wrapped around you like they were made to caress your body, the image of his soft, light brown hair matted against his sweaty forehead during sex. You decided you needed something to clear your mind this weekend before the rest -- and infamous frat boy Yuta Nakamoto’s party this Saturday sounded like the perfect answer. He was a bit of an airheaded fuckboy, but everyone knew his parties were god-tier.

--

Entering the frat house an hour late.(since you were unable to decide which of your mediocre dresses you should wear), you passed the door to be engulfed in waves of already drunk college students. Some talked in clumps with their friends, others sat passed out on couches, and some were just wobbling around the hallways, already wasted. Flashes of glitter on bodycon dresses sparkled under the dim house lights, creating a disco-like effect on the walls.

Everyone was with a friend, or boyfriend/girlfriend, or hookup, but you were alone. It was a little awkward to enter alone, but then again, you were just here to get drunk, dance a little, and go home, all without thinking about Jaehyun and how conflicted you had felt rejecting him for the past week nonstop.

You instantly headed towards the drinks table, grabbing a red cup and pouring whatever was in the bottle closest to you, then chugging it. The fruity but bitter taste burned your throat, but you just kept going, If this mysterious liquid was what would make you stop thinking about Jaehyun, so be it.

Ten (or was it twenty? Whatever) drinks later, you felt a buzzing in your stomach and in your brain. You barely remembered what you had even drunk. You needed to pee so bad, so you climbed the stairs and searched for an open bathroom.

After relieving yourself, you opened the door and headed back downstairs towards the kitchen, but bumped into a boy with bright red hair tied into a ponytail as you were crossing the hallway. Yuta.

“Oh, hey there, y/n,” He greeted. “I didn't know you came to my parties.”

You and Yuta were never the closest of friends. He was some friend of some friend of Jaehyun, and you had seen him in classes and parties occasionally but never talked to him. In fact, you were surprised that he knew your name at all.

You slurred out some response, but none of it made any sense. Taking another step towards the stairs but stumbling over the carpet, you fell forward into his chest as he caught you with his arms.

“Oh y/n! Looks like you had a good time with the drinks,” he laughed.

You felt him guiding you onto your feet, and then something else, but your intoxicated mind blurred it all together. Next thing you knew, you were pressed against the wall, Yuta’s arms caging you into a sloppy, tongue-filled kiss.

You had had a lot to drink, but your mind still had your purpose in mind: forget Jaehyun. You kissed Yuta harder, tightening your grip on his back, and pulling him closer. You needed this. Someone to help you forget. As your bodies came closer to continue the kiss, his crotch brushed in between your thighs.

Come to think of it, you hadn't had sex in so long. It had been a week since you avoided Jaehyun but before that, the two of you hadn't met up to fuck for another week or two. Not only were you trying to forget Jaehyun, but you were sexually deprived.

“Baby, we can’t do this here,” Yuta pulled away from the kiss for a moment to let out a soft laugh under his breath.

You realized the two of you were still in the hallway, with others around talking and drinking, uncaring of whatever the two of you were doing.

“No, one more second,” you whisper. “Kiss me a little bit more.”

He presses his lips onto yours for another second before you feel his body being ripped away from you, the sudden loss of heat and change of light making your eyes fly open to see: Jaehyun.

Jaehyun launching himself in between you and Yuta, throwing him almost to the ground.

You see a dark and hungry look in his eyes, but for a second, it seems like an expression of pain and betrayal. But you're so drunk, what's the difference at this point? He grabs your wrist, leading you into the next empty bedroom and sitting you down atop the covers. At this point, you just want to be kissed, even if it's by the boy you were trying to forget about. Hopefully, you think, the action itself can distract you from the person. You lunge forward, smashing your lips onto his, expecting him to do the same like he's always done before, but for the first time, he pushes you off.

“Jaehyun, what's wrong? Just kiss me,” you say.

“No, y/n, I can't, I-”

“Come on Jaehyun, you wanted it so bad literally two fucking days ago. Now you're getting it,” you argue drunkenly.

“Y/n, you're so drunk. You're going to regret this in the morning.”

His words echoed in your head. He was right. You guys had fucked countless times before and done all sorts of different things, and he knew that drunken sex was not your thing. You didn't even like drinking in the first place. And drunken sex was something you hated. You hated waking up the morning after and realizing that last night’s actions weren't a genuine version of you, and regretted letting intoxication control you. But now more than ever, you wanted something to regret, something to pine about to overpower the constant thinking about Jaehyun.

You leaned forward to attempt another kiss, but again, he pushed you away.

“Y/n, you're really drunk. I think you need to get home.” He gripped your shoulders to keep you a steady distance away from him. “Y/n, please. I know you better than you know yourself.”

There. Those stupid fucking words. Those words that a true friend, or a lover, would say. Not a fuck buddy. There he went again with those conflicting words. Reminding you that he was someone, so considerate, who knew you better than you did, and cared for you more than you ever could. And reminding you that this perfect man was just your fuck buddy and could never be your boyfriend.

With all the strength left in you, you pulled his hands off of you and shoved him backward into the bed. Anger and frustration boiled up inside you, built up from months of suppressed romantic feelings and conflicting regrets.

“You’re so -- fuck you, Jaehyun,” you yell, getting up to leave. Before you could turn the doorknob to exit the room, you blacked out.

The alcohol had gotten to your brain. You didn't remember passing out, or the part where Jaehyun ran to your side to check if you were okay. You didn't remember him picking you up, carrying you to his car, and driving you straight home to your apartment and tucking you into bed. All he could think about was you. What had happened to you that you suddenly got so drunk despite your upcoming final? What had been going on in your life that had made you like this? Without words, simply by looking at your face as he removed your shoes and changed you into more comfortable clothes (since it's not like he's never seen you naked before), he could tell all the emotions you had been through in the past week. Anger, frustration, stress, regret, sadness. But why? For now, he just wanted to make sure you were safe and well. Later, he would worry about the words you'd said.

You were always such a bright person, someone that he wanted to know more about and become close with. From the first day of high school, you radiated a smart yet humble aura that differed from the rest of the talkative and arrogant kids. At senior prom, you went with him as friends, but little did you know he had wanted to go as a couple. Seeing you in your red dress, your eyes sparkling under the disco ball, your body softly swaying to the music, that's when he knew.

He liked you. For who you were. You could be doubtful in your talents and abilities, but he always saw you for the kind, devoted person that you were. You were a genuinely good person in his life that he looked up to and he sincerely wanted to see you succeed in life, because you deserved it. More than he cared about himself, he cared about you. He loved you.

But life gets weird in college, and so do hormones. When he first suggested being friends with benefits, he thinks it's that chill thing that friends do, like in the movies, but he’s clearly never watched them closely enough to realize that friends with benefits means no romantic feelings ever. So he thinks he can be your friend with benefits until he moves past his horny college boy phase and wants to confess his romantic feelings to you. But he's wrong, because you've been shutting him out for the past week, and you've gone from friends to strangers.

--

The next morning, you wake up groggily in a loose oversized t-shirt, stretching your arms and blinking your eyes to feel a sharp pain from the exposure to light. Recalling last night’s events, up to shoving Jaehyun, you sit up in bed, your head pounding and mind running a mile a minute. What had you said to him? Did you confess? Or agree to keep being his fuck buddy? You needed to sort this out. Grabbing your phone, you put on some pants and head out of your apartment, heading for Jaehyun’s a few streets down. On the walk there, you couldn't tell if your head was pounding due to the glaring 12pm sun, or however many shots you had had last night.

Finally in front of his door, you pressed the doorbell and regretted it immediately. What were you even going to say to defend yourself if you couldn't remember what you said last night? The options run through your mind before the door opens to Jaehyun, whose eyes widen upon seeing your very hungover condition on his doorstep.

“Y/n! What are you doing he-”

“What am I to you?” You blurt out. Maybe that wasn't such a good start.

“Huh?” He says.

“Tell me what I mean to you.” You rephrase. You need the answer to your romantic feelings now, and if it's not the right answer, you're going to walk home and never see him again. And if it's the right answer, god knows what you're going to do. You take a deep breath before revealing everything. “I know we’re supposed to just be friends with benefits, but I started liking you, and I know I'm not supposed to. I don't remember what I did or said last night but I know that you were being more caring than a friend with benefits is supposed to be. You're always like that and it's giving me mixed signals. Tell me what I mean to you. I like you. And if you don't feel the same, that.. that's okay. But I'm not going to do this anymore.”

Jaehyun’s heart pounds at your sudden confession. He’s been waiting years to be able to tell you the same thing. But all of a sudden, he’s unable to get any words out. All he can do is grab you and pull you into a hug and hold you, closer and harder than he’s ever before. The more he compresses you, his years’ worth of pent up feelings and words he’s wanted to say are released. Through his warmth, you feel your feelings being reciprocated.

He doesn't know how to tell you that he feels the same. And he's felt that way for years. He loosens his grip on you to look into your eyes and check that this isn't some emotional outburst or random prank; as expected, it's none of the above.

“Y/n, I've felt the same. Since high school.” He pulls you in for a kiss, but it's not like the past lustful kisses you've had with deep romantic feelings embedded under layers and layers. This one is a real kiss -- pulled up from under its masks of sex and physical gratification. This is your first kiss in love.

[junietc]

car rides with you - peter parker

peter parker x reader

pairing: peter parker/spiderman x reader

word count: 6567

warning: swearing, some asshole who doesn’t know how to respect women, and fluffffff

a/n: i’ve had this in my drafts for way too long so i decided to finish it before i forgot it ever existed. its really long but i hope you’ll enjoy a one shot with our favourite little peter benjamin parker :)

send in requests and share your love ~

If you were being honest, it wasn’t like you needed Peter to drive you to and from school each day. You had options. You could take the bus or ask your dad to pick you up or even walk. But having a personal chauffeur didn’t hurt, and if he was so nice as to offer it, then how could you say no? 

Plus, it was on his way. Sort of. It was only a detour of about a block; maybe less a detour and more an alternate route? Either way, his apartment complex was hardly two minutes away. Five minutes to walk, three with your bike, six if you hobble over with a tweaked ankle. 

This was a route you’ve been intimately familiar with since you became best friends in the seventh grade. Back when your hair was barely past your ears after a platinum blonde mishap (you still immediately dyed it green after lobbing off half of it) and Peter was wearing the same hideous Star Wars sweater every day. Somehow, both of you believed these fashion choices would help improve your social status.

Both of you were delusional. 

Luckily, by ages sixteen (you) and seventeen (Peter, by default), you’d come to your senses. Sure, Peter’s penchant for sweaters persisted – why would any one person need five of what was basically the same sweater? – but you grew your hair back out and kept its inoffensive natural colour. And neither of you wore shirts with puns on them. Not anymore.

Earlier this year, back when you were still sophomores, Peter passed his driver’s test. Now with a full license and his aunt’s old sedan, he’s taken the habit of waking up the whole neighbourhood with his obnoxious honking.

Okay, maybe not the entire neighbourhood. Really, just you. 

Still, today was no different.

“Hey, Peter,” you yelled out as you swung the door open, “How about shutting the fuck up?”

You shoved your feet into your shoes and scrambled out, backpack dangling off the crook of your elbow and burnt toast between your teeth as you try to shut the door. Peter leaned across to push open the passenger door so that you could throw your things into the backseat. Papers flew out of the half-zipped bag and spilled onto the floor. 

“For the expletives, I’m afraid I’ll have to only give you a three-star passenger rating,” Peter quipped.

You frowned deeply, pulling the seatbelt. The mechanism got stuck, and you had to pull it out a few more times again. Peter just grinned at you, clearly taking joy in your glares.

“So, ready for the chem test?” he asked, shifting the gears. 

You rolled your eyes, knowing very well that you had sent him a distressed voice message at four in the morning of you crying, saying how you were going to fail, but decided to respond as nicely as possible. “Fuck off.”

He chuckled. He pulled up to the intersection, slowing down but not stopping at the sign. 

You mock gasped. “Wow, illegal. Imagine if there were cops. I’m going to have to give you two stars. I can’t have my Uber driver potentially getting arrested.”

He sighed, shoving you with his free hand. You almost scolded him for not keeping both hands on the wheel (one star!), but he began talking before you could. “You should know, that if I ever was sent to jail, it would never be for something as lame as not stopping at a stop sign”

You snorted before rolling your eyes. “Oh? What would it be for then? Pirating video games?”

“Exactly.” He winked exaggeratedly; you shoved his face to focus back on the road. You looked down at the charred toast, which had been sprinkling crumbs all over your lap. It was far from appetizing, but your stomach growled, and you decided to scarf it down – it was that or no breakfast at all.

Peter laughed at the wince you tried to stomach what was basically a brick of carbon. (Honestly, he laughed at your expense a lot. Some friend.) “I really don’t know why you haven’t just started waking up earlier. I mean, I pick you up at the same time every day and-”

“Okay dad. I’ll start waking up earlier,” you lied.

“I hope you know that I know, you’re lying.”

You flipped him off. 

-----

Lunch seemed to be the only time that you and MJ ever got to hang out at school, so you took pride in making the most of your conversations. 

The two of you shared a laugh and through your peripheral vision, you saw Ned and Peter waving at you before coming to sit down. “So, what are we talking about?” Ned asked as you turned to face them with a smile. 

“Where MJ is going to hide my body after she kills me,” you notice her crack a smile as Ned and Peter both give you strange looks. “I was thinking maybe throw me in a river, but she thinks that burying me twenty feet underground would make it harder for the cops to find.”

The two boys looked at you apprehensively as MJ chuckled as you grinned cheerfully. “Should I be concerned?” Peter asked before you all laughed. 

“Anyways. I was thinking of finally taking my driver’s test. I decided might as well get it over with no?” MJ and Ned both nodded at your suggestion, MJ even mumbling something among the lines of “finally”. Peter on the hand looked, well, skeptical. 

“You want to take it now? Out of the blue? Why? I thought you wanted to wait until you had a job,” he questioned.

After taking another sip of the juice box you managed to steal from Ned, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I might as well get it over with. I mean, it’s been well over six months since my written test and I’ve been practicing enough with you and my dad, so I should be fine.”

Peter nodded, though a slight frown still prominent on his face. The conversation steered over to a completely different topic when Ned brought up the chemistry test causing you to pretend to bawl and everyone to laugh.

After lunch had ended, you said your goodbyes to Ned and MJ as you and Peter stopped at your locker. You were in the midst of grabbing your book when he sighed heavily, causing you to stare at him. “You know if you really wanted me to stop driving you, you could have just said so,” his voice was offended as you scoffed.

“What? Where would you get that idea from idiot?”

Huffing slightly, he shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe when you said you wanted to finally get your license.” 

“Are you serious? I’ve been meaning to get my license for the past few months you dummy. Plus, I can’t count on you to drive me everywhere. You’re busy with your own life, you know with that Stark internship and everything. Not to mention, you’re still going to have to drive me to school, since I don’t even have a car,” you roll your eyes at the boy. 

A light smile started to tug on his lips. “Alright. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t trying to get rid of me,” he joked as you snorted in response.

“Oh trust me, I’ve been trying since the day I met you,” Peter pouts as you flicked him in the forehead. “Stop with that face. You know I suck up to how cute each time,” his cheeks tinged a pinkish hue as you ruffled his hair and laughed. 

“O-Oh. Yeah, haha. Sorry,” he murmured as you started to walk in the opposite direction. He caught up with you before heading over to English – which truly was your worst subject – and sitting next to each other. 

Peter fiddled with his pencil for the most of class while you aggressively took notes, wishing that Mr. Petersons would slow down and breathe.

“Alright class. That’s it for today but if everyone could just pick their partners for the project and try and get started over the weekend, that would be great,” as he dismissed everyone, you and Peter turned to each other, giving a silent acknowledgement that you were each other’s partner. 

Heading out of the classroom, you and Peter both went your separate ways. “See you after school!” you waved before heading to History.

History was blur of numbers, years and dead people that you were going to have to remember for an upcoming test, so you were thankful that the clock had finally read 3:00. Your teacher finally dismissed you, causin you to rush to the parking lot, seeing Peter already sitting in the front seat. “Hey there Parker,” you knocked on the window as he smiled and unlocked the door. 

“Hey, how was history?” rolling your eyes, you told him about the dumb test you were going to have to study for. He laughed as he buckled his seatbelt, “well at least you have the weekend to study for it. Speaking of which. When do you want to meet to work on the English project?”

Sighing slightly at the reminder that you had other things you also had to work on, you bit your lip. “Are you cool with Saturday? I’ll just walk over, maybe at like three or four,” Peter nodded as he started the car. 

“Sounds good to me.”

------

Swinging around Queens was always a nice break for Peter, seeing all of the buildings and feeling almost weightless was a nice distraction from all of his studies and duties but he always seemed to forget the time when he was doing so. 

Cue Peter – well Spiderman I guess – hurriedly swinging back to his apartment when he received a text from you saying you were at his door. “Shit, shit, shit!” he swore, finally reaching his window and climbing in. 

As he changed to some regular clothing, May’s voice echoed throughout the little apartment, talking to you as footsteps approached. “He’s been in his room for quite a while. I’m not sure what he’s been up to,” Peter was frantically trying to search for a shirt in his mess of a room when the footsteps got closer. “I have some muffins I baked earlier on the counter, feel free to have one if you get hungry. I’ll be off for a bit so just call if you –” May’s voice seems to be getting closer when she suddenly opened the door, revealing you staring at him, neck immediately snapping to turn the other direction. Peter tried covering himself with a pillow as May immediately said she had to go and left you both alone, very uncomfortable. 

You stood there, unsure of what to do and more so, where to look. Though obviously you looked away and allowed Peter to have his privacy finding a shirt, you couldn’t help but think of his shirtless figure. Since when did he start working out? ‘When did he get those abs? Is this the same Peter that literally dropped me during a drama performance last year?’ you thought to yourself, cheeks tinging pink as Peter finally put on a shirt.

“Hey, um – sorry about that. I was just –”

“Nope! It’s alright. We can just forget this ever happened,” you rushed to say, shaking your head.

Peter blushed before nodding. “Right. Let’s just erase the last two minutes from our brain.” 

You swung your legs as you sat on his bed. “You weren’t doing anything weird right? Because I know that guys - “

“That’s not what I was doing! I was just changing,” he shook his head as you laughed. “Asides from that. Do you want to start working on the project?” You nodded as the two of you got to work. 

– a few hours later –

  You were both hard at work, basically finished the first two parts of the project, leaving only the last section left when you flopped onto Peter’s bed dramatically. “I’m so exhausted,” you whined, as Peter chuckled. 

“We only have one more part to do and we’re practically done the project, so do you want to finish it now?” Peter asked, still typing in his laptop. 

You pursed your lips, pondering on the idea of that but shook your head ultimately. “Nah. I’m tired. Plus, we’ve been working our asses off the past three hours. I just need to breathe.” 

Peter laughed at your dramatics before he asking question. “Do you wanna watch a movie?”

Obviously agreeing to a break in any form, you nodded eagerly and headed over to the living room. You managed to steal a blanket from his bed and bundled yourself up as Peter turned on the television. “So, what are we watching?” he asked, flipped through the collection of old DVD’s. 

“Can we watch Star Wars?” he pleaded as you rolled your eyes, this was probably the third time this month he wanted to watch Star Wars, but you agreed to it anyways. 

“Fine, just don’t be annoying about it again.” 

------

The weekend seemed to breeze by with you desperately trying to study for the history test, and with only a few mental breakdowns and a couple thousand replays of your favourite song, you were ready.

Obviously, you severely underestimated how cruel Ms. Gail could have possibly been and left the classroom wanting to punch yourself, or her, in the face.

Luckily you didn’t have to endure another class seeing as the day was over and you could get home to your bed to cry in private. But before that of course, you were forced to see Peter’s face.

A light smile was etched on his face as you settled in the car. “So how was the –”

“Don’t bring it up. I am already debating whether or not I should throw myself off a building,” you groaned, leaning your head back on the seat. Peter laughed before trying to reassure you that it really couldn’t have been that bad, but you responded with, “no it really was. I honestly think I only got one or two answers right.”

Trying to raise your spirits, an idea popped in his head. “Do you want to get sandwiches at Mr. Delmar’s? Maybe that’ll lighten up your mood,” he suggested as a bright grin formed on your face. As devastated as you were, you were sure that a full stomach would make everything better. “Alright let’s go.”

Obviously, parking was a nightmare in central Queens, so, you decided it would be easier to walk there instead. The two of you headed to the small corner shop, making light conversation. After opening the door to the store, the two greeted Mr. Delmar, Peter snatching a packet of gummies worms and you going directly to pet Murph, Mr. Delmar’s cat. 

“Hey Murph! How’s my cutie doing?” he purred in response before you walked over to the cash with Peter. “Hey Mr. Delmar! Business running smoothly?”

He smiled at you before answering. “Of course. I’ve got my two most frequent costumers keeping me in business,” you and Peter laughed before ordering your sandwiches, paying and heading off. 

You walked back to the school and got back in Peter’s car, eating your sandwiches in the school parking lot. The two of you conversed, making up dumb scenarios and silly topics for a while. Peter nearly choked of laughter as you tried to defend Tik-Tok.

“Not all of Tik-Tok is thirst traps okay! Maybe yeah there’s a weird subsection of it, but it really depends on the algorithm! Most of the users are sane – ish,” you argued as Peter shook his head. 

“I really don’t get it. And somehow you stay up until morning watching them! Didn’t you do that when Vine was still around?” he took a pause, a dramatic gasp escaping from his lips. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying are you?”

You placed on a hand on your chest in slight offence. “No! What? Listen, I’m not saying that Tik-Tok is better than Vine, don’t get me wrong but –”

“But what? Tell me?” he raised a brow at you, suspicious as to which team your truly were on. 

You shook your head laughing before punching him on the side of his arm. “You’re such a piss off Parker. Hey, should we get going? It’s getting late,” Peter looked at the time on his phone before nodding, taking a final bite of his sandwich before starting the car. 

“Oh, shoot you’re right,” you smugly flipped your hair, as he rolled his eyes. 

“Aren’t I always?”

----

“You said yes?” Peter demanded, trying to keep up with you as you walked to your locker. 

Sighing as you rummage through your locker you answer, “Yeah I said yes. Noah is a good guy and quite frankly, I don’t see why it would even matter to you?” 

“You said that you would think about it!”

Turning to face him as you shut your locker closed, you rolled your eyes. “That was nearly a week ago and I’ve thought about it since then. Besides, it’s not like it’s that big of a deal. It’s just one date.”

“You see that’s where it starts!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. “It’s just a first date but then it’s a second and a third and soon he’s your boyfriend and he’s the one driving you to school and everywhere and then, where am I?”

You shook your head laughing slightly at the brunette. “Would you calm down Peter? You’re getting way too ahead of yourself for the first part. And yeah, maybe it’ll be more than one date but trust me you can keep driving me to school. Also we’ve been best friends since middle school, I wouldn’t just ditch you when I got boyfriend,” he seemed to calm down, nodding slowly at the words you were saying but he knew it was more than just being allowed to drive you to school. “I’ll see you around okay?” you smiled before heading off to meet up with Noah, who was standing with a group of his friends. 

Peter’s smile faded away shortly as he watched Noah wrap his arm around your shoulder. He was too busy thinking of different scenarios to notice Ned had come up beside him or the fact that you had slapped Noah’s arm away. “Hey Peter. What are you looking – oh. Sorry man,” Ned tried to console Peter, but the words seemed to pass his mind. Sighing, Ned tried to pat his shoulder. “I mean, it is kind of your fault.” 

“Excuse me?” the words seemed to catch his attention as he turned around to face his best friend. 

Ned shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “Hey not trying to be rude but maybe if you hadn’t chickened out into asking her out, you could’ve been the one dating her,” Peter stared at his friend, slightly hurt but also aware that everything he was saying was right. 

“Yeah, maybe if I had.” 

He couldn’t help but look at you wistfully, his heart almost aching at the idea of you going out with anyone else but him but at this point, what could he really do?

Waving bye to Ned, Peter headed off into his car and drove home since you were already going with Noah on your date. Once he got into his apartment, he saw May and smiled.  “Hey Pete, how was your day?” tucking his hands in his sweater pocket he sighed slightly. 

“It was okay, I guess. Erm – I’m gonna work on my assignment in the library. I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, heading off to his room to grab a few things. 

May shouted from in the kitchen, “alright! I’ll be heading off to grab a few things. Just be back before dinner!” he grabbed his suit and tried to get some fresh air to distract himself.

----

A month had passed, and you and Noah were happily dating, much to the dismay of Peter, who constantly tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his heart every time you two would display physical affection, but it was whatever. 

You got in his car and buckled your seat belt without a word to Peter. You were tired of schoolwork as you always were, so you weren’t as talkative as you usually were. Slumping into the chair and sighing heavily Peter stared at you.

“Everything okay?”

You looked at him surprised, nodding. “Of course! I’m just really exhausted. Got a lot of work, that’s all.” You sighed, looking at the text on your phone. “Hey, we should get going. May’s probably wondering where you are, and I have a date with Noah so I can’t be late.” 

The moment that Noah’s name was mentioned, Peter mentally rolled his eyes but nodded and started to drive again. 

He dropped you off at your place before texting his aunt May that he would be heading over to the library to work. He drove over and got to the library, trying to find a place to sit.

After finding a seat, he pulled out his laptop and worked for a while, maybe a few hours or so before heading back home. May still wasn’t back and Peter really needed some air, so he put on the suit before leaving through his window and swinging around. It was a nice distraction as he watched the sun slowly start to set, dealing with a few petty crimes around the neighbourhood. He was about to call it a day when he heard a shout coming from someone. 

“Hey! Get off me!” the voice sounded awfully familiar and as soon as he realized who it was, Peter’s stomach dropped. “I said get off!” you were shouting from about a block away, trying to keep a man away from you. 

“Oh, come on, you look all nice and dolled up. Why won’t you just –” the man started before you started to attack him with your bag. Sure, you weren’t scared of him, but you were really hoping he would catch a clue and leave you alone for the rest of the night. You were tired and your feet hurt, and the sun was setting so you really didn’t want to be walking alone back to your place in the dark. You’d forgotten your phone like a dumbass in your room, so there really weren’t that many options. “You bitch! I can understand why you’re walking all alone! I wouldn’t want to be near such a whore either!” the words sank into your skin as you made a disgusted face at the man. 

“Listen if you could please just leave me alone it would be –” as you placed your hands up trying to be defensive, the man grabbed onto your wrists and started to pull on you. “Stop! What are you –?”

“She said stop.”

Your head whipped around, and you saw Spiderman hanging from a web. You watched the man smirk and laugh for a minute, his hands still holding onto your wrists. “And what are you gonna do? From what I’ve heard about you Spiderman is that you’re just a kid. Don’t think that I’d fear a –”

Before he could finish his sentence, Spiderman had knocked him cold with a single blow to the face. He turned to you and tried to make sure you were alright. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting him to get knocked out. Are you alright miss?” you nodded, trying to massage your wrists, damn that guy had a firm grip. You glared at his lying figure, still holding onto your wrists. Spiderman’s eyes, or well, you couldn’t really see his eyes through his mask but whatever, moved to your wrists. “Are you sure? Here, let me see.” 

He took your wrists gently, examining the potential bruises and making sure you were okay. You smiled before taking back your wrists. “I’m alright, honestly. Thank you for your help, even though I didn’t really need it,” you stated, causing him to scoff.

“Um what? From what I saw, he was holding you and you couldn’t move,” he crossed his arms making you snort.

“That’s because I was trying to reason with him before kicking him in the balls,” you mentioned, causing Spiderman to choke in response. “Kind of stupid that guy. I mean my legs weren’t restrained. But whatever. Thank you though. I do actually appreciate it,” you smiled and was about to walk off before he kept talking. 

“Why are you walking alone? I mean it’s getting late, no? Why not call someone to drive you home?” he asked making you stop and turn around. 

You placed your hand on your hip and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought it would be nice to get some fresh air so I just decided to walk. But I’m starting to think I should just take the bus for the rest of the way back.”

“I could swing you back?” Spiderman’s offer was a surprising one, considering how this was your first time encountering the hero. Though it was a bit skeptical, you agreed to it, wanting to go home. “Just hold on tight alright?” he asked as you nodded, latching yourself to him, arms wrapped around his neck. You heard his breath hitch slightly as you wrapped your legs around his waist but ignored it as he shot a web up and started to swing. 

You screamed loudly, the adrenaline of being so high up and swing fast soon kicking in. “Do you even know where we’re going?” you shouted, the wind smacking you in the face. You rolled your eyes before giving your address to him and soon landing safely at your windowsill. Thankfully, your widow was still unlocked so you lifted it up and slid in. Before he left you tapped his shoulder. “Thanks Spiderman.” 

“Not a problem. Just being your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman.” 

He left soon, leaving you in your room, bored. You walked over to your desk and saw your phone there, a bunch of texts from MJ asking you how your date went so you went and responded. After binging a bit on Netflix, you decided to get ready for bed, knowing Peter was going to come honking at the door the next morning. 

----

“Wow, you’re early for once,” Peter joked as you sat in his car. You rolled your eyes at him, before turning on the radio. “How was your, umm, date yesterday?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable. 

You raised an eyebrow, confused as to why he had suddenly taken interest into your date with Noah. “It was the same as usual I guess,” you shrug. “Why?” 

“You walked home last night?” he huffed, causing you to readjust your position. You awkwardly nodded, because you knew he was going to go into his “you shouldn’t be walking home alone late at night” speech. 

“Yeah,” you admitted, as he stopped at the red light. “How did you know –”

He kept his eyes on the road before speaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you pursed your lips, shrugging once more. “I went to bed pretty early for once. I just forgot about it, I guess. Sorry,” you tried to apologize yet Peter’s face stayed stern. 

“Why didn’t Noah drop you off?”

You were shocked at his tone but answered him, trying to keep your own temper. “He said he had to go somewhere once we were done the movie. He apologized for your information. He’s got more in his life then just me.”

“No one goes on a date with someone and just leaves because they were ‘busy’,” he argued. You rolled your eyes at his behaviour. 

“Would you cut it out? It really wasn’t that big of a deal,” you snapped, crossing your arms and turning to look outside of the window. 

Peter turned to you and glared. “Not that big of a deal? I heard some guy tried to attack you,” he retorted, causing you to turn back and face him, confused as to how he knew. 

“Who told you?” 

“That doesn’t matter!” his tone was harsher, making you wince at the volume. He took a breath and regained his composure. “I just can’t believe Noah let you go home alone. Why didn’t you take the bus?” 

You were getting tired of his protective behavior, sighing. “Oh my god Peter. I’m not a helpless child, I can walk home on my own! For your information I didn’t have my bus pass. Besides it was hardly dark!” your attempts to reason with him fell on deaf ears. 

“There were so many other things you could have done though!”

“Like what?” 

“You could have called me!” 

“You were busy! You have a life that’s not taking care of me twenty-four seven! I don’t want to have to rely on you for every fucking moment of my life!” you retaliated, breathing heavily. “Besides, I didn’t even have my phone.”

“You could have –”

“Could have what Parker?” you were sick of him treating you as if you were incapable of doing anything. “I get that you’re just trying to look after me, but I can handle things on my own!” 

“Can you? Because it seems like the one time you are on your own you get yourself in situations like yesterdays!” 

“You think that it was my fault? You think that some guy trying to assault me is my fault? Are you fucking serious right now? You know what, I’ll just get Noah to drive me home tonight seeing as you clearly don’t trust me walk home on my own, because I don’t want you to drive me anymore. Don’t wait for me after school,” and with those words, the car had come to a stop and you slammed his car door, leaving Peter to slap himself across the forehead at his stupid mistake. Groaning to himself, he placed his head on the steering wheel. 

“What the fuck did I just do?”

------

It had been two weeks since you and Peter’s argument and neither of you had spoken to each other since. There had been awkward moments where you two would cross paths, like if you were hanging out with MJ and Ned, but you made it seems as if it were your sworn duty to ignore the boy. You sat with Noah and his friends at lunch and either walked home or had your dad pick you up. 

That was all until one fateful night.

It was maybe eleven, possibly even midnight, and Peter had just gotten back from patrol. It was boring that night. Nothing happened, maybe a guy flashing people down the street but asides from that, the city was calm.

He had climbed back into his room and sat down on his bed, laying up at the ceiling. He hadn’t done much the past few weeks since he didn’t have you to bother him with, so his life was boring. He laid there for a few more minutes before his phone buzzed.

He was quick to get up and grab his phone, wow addicted much, and his eyes squinted when reading the name, making sure they weren’t deceiving him.

you: hey

you: do you think you could come over?

Peter: ofc! On my way right now

you: thanks :)

The ride to your house was short and before he knew it, you were sitting beside him, awkwardly staring forewords. “Can we drive? Anywhere is fine,” you mumbled under your breath, latching on your seatbelt.

Peter nodded and started to drive off. He glanced to look at you a couple times, watching as you anxiously played with the sleeves of your sweater. Maybe ten minutes had passed, and you motioned for Peter to park the car on the side of a quiet street.

“Me and Noah broke up.”

Peter looked at her surprised. “Oh. Do you want to talk about – “

“Do you still have those movies you downloaded on your phone?” you asked quickly, avoiding his previous question. He nodded as you smiled. “Can we watch one of them in the back? I really just don’t want to think about anything.”

Peter smiled at the girl. “Anything for you.”

So, the two of you sat in the backseats of Peter’s old sedan, wrapped up in an old blanket and watching trashy romcoms together.

And it was perfect.

-----

The two of you had finally made amends after the incident and nearly a month had passed until the two of you were working on a project in Peter’s apartment.

While Peter was vigour sly typing up the document, you laid on his bed, playing with various Knick knacks he had scattered around his room.

“Peter?” He hummed his response before you continued. “What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you think about me?” 

“Sorry?” He paused his writing, confused at why you had suddenly decided to go into such a deep question.

You sat up for a second, repeating the same question. “What do you think of when you think of me?” you collapsed back down onto your back and laid your head on your arms. “Go on. Answer it?” 

He took a second to think about it before answering: “Annoying.”

“You think I’m annoying?” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes at his childish answer. 

“Undoubtedly. Every day I wonder how far I can shoot you into space,” he joked as you threw one of his pillows at his head. He caught it with ease, turning on his chair to face you. “Why are you asking? Did someone say something?” he asked defensively. 

You shook your head, playing with some strands of hair, braiding them carelessly. “No. I was just kind of sitting in my room earlier today and stumbled over a Tik Tok where a girl asked people what they thought of when they thought of her, so I just wondered about it. I asked MJ and she said that I reminded her of comfort and that one time we plotted to kill Ms. Gail,” Peter looked at you with a cocked brow as you shrugged. “I mean, at least her answer wasn’t as rude as yours.”

“Oh, come on. It was just a joke,” he tried to reason with you as you laughed. He left his desk and sat at the bottom of his bed beside you, taking a second to think about it. “I guess the first thing I think about, when I think about you, is cars.”

“Like the Pixar movie?”

Smacking you with the pillow he was holding, he rolled his eyes, “and you wonder why I said annoying?” 

“You love me,” you stated, as Peter sighed.

“No, but like cars. More so car rides,” he stopped himself, thinking of all the memories you have made in the car rides you had been on. “Like, I guess car rides with you are what I think of. Like how I pick you up and drop you every day. And all the stupid conversations we have, or watching you trying to put yourself together in the mornings when I pick you up. I think about the arguments we have gotten into, the tears that we shed, the terrible jokes you made, the movies we watched in the back of the car on your phone late at night,” a smile tugged at his lips as he thought: ‘It’s where I fell in love with you.’ He leaned his head back on the mattress of the bed. “I guess it’s just, our special thing.” 

You smiled to yourself at his answer, as you laid on your back staring at the ceiling. “That was a solid answer Parker,” you teased him. You slid down the bed, so that half of you was lying upside down and turned to face him. 

“Yeah well my real answer is just annoying,” he laughed before turning to face you. You both hadn’t realized how close you were to each other’s faces. Your nose was almost touching his as you stared into his soft brown eyes.

Neither of you moved. 

Just the sound of silence and your heartbeat going haywire.

“Do you want to know what comes to my mind when I think of you?” you asked smiling. “I think of how many times you’ve been there for me, showing up at midnight with your old sedan and your hair a mess. I think of how you always seem to be there no matter how pissed off I am at you or the world. I think of your cute face and how you always manage to make me smile. I think of how much I really love you Peter Parker. How your dorky face manages to be my entire world.”

Peter’s mind seemed to unravel as the words left your mouth. “You, love me?”

A light scoff seemed to escape your lips before you responded. “I do. Have been since sophomore year, but if you don’t feel the same, don’t feel obligated to answer. I know it’s really-“

His lips sealed over yours before another word could have been spoken. His hair tickled your eyes as you two got closer together, his hand placed on the back of your neck. The two of you parted, your eyes staring longingly into his. The two of you shared a pair of love sick smiles. 

“I guess that means you love me too?”

“You have no idea.”

[toddtakefive]

Can I Have a Ride Home? I’m at a Party and I Don’t Know Any1

fandom(s): Gravity Falls, Over The Garden Wall

pairing(s): Pinescone , Mabcifica (mentioned)

words: 5314

rating: M (reasons listed in trigger warnings + swearing)

work type: One-shot , AU

tw(s): homophobia , use of slurs , violence and references to past violence

Also on AO3!!

Wirt wasn’t entirely sure how Sara had managed to drag him along with her to Senior Prom, hell he wasn’t even sure how she had managed to get a suit for him when he’d refused to go in for a fitting, but now he was standing in a crowded gym full of high-schoolers and he already wanted to leave. In his defense, they’d already been there an hour and that was an hour longer than he was at most parties.

If he was going to be completely honest, the party wasn’t that bad. Sure the music would cut off whenever there was a swear - everyone would still sing it anyways -, and sure the punch tasted weird, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad party as most parties go. The reason it was a bad party is because it was a party full of nothing but high-schoolers, and high-schoolers are scary. At least to Wirt.

He lost Sara twenty minutes ago -he’s honestly starting to think she’s underneath the bleachers flirting with the girl from her Chem class- and he’s getting bored so he pulls out his phone and starts typing a quick text to Dipper.

‘Bored. Wish you were here :/’.

The reply is immediate, 

‘Lol r u a postcard??’ ‘Wish I wre ther too <3 drving rigt now txt you lter′. 

The next text he receives is a picture taken by the person in the passenger seat, likely Mabel, with a peace sign while Dipper attempts to get his phone back without taking his eyes off the road. The caption for the photo is ‘road safety laws are bogus B)’. He laughs to himself. Yup, definitely Mabel.

He looks up at the sound of steps approaching, expecting it to be Sara but instead seeing evil incarnate. He takes in a deep breath before plastering on a fake smile.

“Hello, Trevor.” he says. 

Trevor Martin. No offense to the British actor Trevor Martin, of course, but Wirt fucking hates this guy. He’s book smart, Wirt’ll give him that, but that’s his only redeeming quality. Not only is he a totally fuckwad, but he has the audacity to say he’s not and try to date Sara, a very loud and proud lesbian. Like, dude, at least Jason Funderberker had the decency to back off when she came out. Plus, never trust a guy with a first name for a last name.

Trevor, wearing his slimy little smirk like he always does, doesn’t even meet Wirt’s eyes. “So, where’s Sara? I figured she’d be with you, you know, since you’re like her fucking boyfriend or whatever.”

Wirt scrunches his nose just slightly, he doesn’t want this situation to escalate more than it has to. “I’ve told you this a thousand times, Trevor. She is not my girlfriend.”

Trevor rolls his eyes, “Sure. You get pissed off that I’m trying to date her because you aren’t her boyfriend. Got it.”

Wirt shakes his head, “I get pissed off that you’re trying to date her because she’s a lesbian. Which is literally common knowledge, by the way.” he throws away his plastic cup and walks out into the hallway. Trevor, being an idiot in everything but school subjects, follows him into the hallway.

“She’s not a lesbian, she’s just saying that to get me to leave her alone.” Trevor explains, causing Wirt to roll his eyes as he walks.

“That’s not how that fucking works, Trevor. Besides, if a girl is literally resorting to faking being a lesbian to get you to leave her alone, maybe you just don’t know how to take a hint.”

He hears Trevor scoff, “Well she’s dating you, so she isn’t a lesbian.”

“She isn’t dating me! And you do know people can be bi, right?”

“If she isn’t dating you then why are you always talking about your relationship in World Civ?”

Wirt, just wanting this idiot to leave him alone already, stops walking abruptly and turns around. Trevor runs into him and falls back a little bit, he has a look on his face that Wirt thinks is his ‘gotcha’ face, but he’s really had enough of the whole ‘Wirt and Sara are dating in secret’ thing when they’re both very out homosexuals.

“Because I have a boyfriend, Trevor.” he deadpans, and sees that smug look fall off of Trevor’s face. God he loves the look of confusion that floods his features, it’s pure poetry.

“What?” Trevor asks, with all of his genius.

“The reason you hear me talking about my relationship -in conversations that didn’t involve you, by the way- is because I have a boyfriend. He lives in California.”

Trevor looks as though his entire world view just got re-shaped. He’s between wanting to believe and wanting to think it’s a prank, but, to Trevor, Wirt isn’t cool enough to pull a prank like this with a straight face.

The long minutes of silence is starting to get awkward, but just as Wirt is about to walk away Trevor speaks up again, “Wait so,” he pauses, “you’re a faggot?”

Wirt tenses immediately. That word. God he hates that word. The first time he heard it was when he came out to his biological dad when he and Dipper started dating back in Sophomore year. It wasn’t a great conversation, and Wirt vividly remembers the bloody nose he got out of it.

“I- uhm. Y-yeah. I- yeah.” Wirt stammers out. Trevor’s entire demeanor changes.

“Wait, what the fuck?” he says, distancing himself from Wirt by a couple inches. This causes Wirt to snap out of whatever funk he was in. He raises an eyebrow.

“Me having a boyfriend isn’t new information, Trevor. You’ve heard me get teased for talking about him before.”

“Yeah, but I thought they were joking! I didn’t think you were actually. You know.” he makes a wild hand gesture in Wirt’s direction.

“Gay?” Wirt asks with a furrowed brow.

“That! That. I didn’t think you were that.” Okay, now Wirt’s getting pissed. Obviously the use of the slur pissed him off, but not even being able to say the word gay? Come on, dude.

“Is there a problem with that?” He asks, crossing his arms. He’s not entirely sure where this newfound courage is coming from, but he can think about it later.

“No it’s just, dude have you been checking me out in the locker rooms and shit this whole time!” Trevor asks, his stance becoming defensive.

Wirt flinches back a bit at the question. “No. Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re.” Another wild hand gesture. Dude, just say the word.

Wirt sighs, “Gay. Right, yeah. We’ve established that. But I don’t go around creeping on the guys in the locker room. That would be fucking weird. And, again, I have a boyfriend, and you also aren’t my type so we’re covering all the bases of ‘I’d never do that’.”

Trevor takes a step forward that causes Wirt to take a step back, “I don’t believe you.” he says, voice lined with anger.

Wirt, quickly realizing he should have just walked away while Trevor was confused, holds his hands up in defense, “Good for you, but I don’t really care.” he glances over Trevor’s shoulder to see if he could make a break for the door. That idea is quickly thrown out the window when Trevor grabs Wirt by the collar. Wirt laughs a bit to himself, “You know, this looks kinda gay.”

Trevor’s hold on the front of his shirt tightens, he brings his hands up higher to make sure he isn’t touching the other boy anywhere, “Okay! Okay, okay, okay! Okay. Look, honestly man, never watched you while you were changing! I don’t think we’ve ever even had a P.E class together, if I’m being honest. And besides, I don’t think watching sweaty teenage boys change is that appealing. Especially not you, cause no offense you’re not really anyone’s type. At least not any gay persons type I mean! I’m sure some girl at the college you attend will think you’re hot, she’ll probably have kinda low standards but a girlfriend’s a girlfriend, right? And she’ll marry you right outta college, and you’ll become a fucking accountant or something else just as soul sucking, and you’ll have two kids, and a dog, and feel free to cut me off whenever you like.”

There’s a crunch and a massive amount of pain that makes Wirt stop talking. His head is spinning faster than a tornado, but he knows the feeling of hitting the school floor well enough to know it happens somewhere within the time he gets punched in the face a second time and kicked in the stomach the first.

He’s not entirely sure how long he’s on the floor, but he does know that when he finally opens his eyes Trevor is standing above him, heaving, staring at his own hands like they’re covered in blood- oh they are. That is blood. That is definitely blood. That’s a lot of blood. Wow.

Wirt pushes himself off of the ground, there’s an ache in every fiber of his being but the floor is cold and dirty and he’d rather not be down there right now. As he rises, slowly, he can see a steady drip of blood coming down from his face. That’s not good.

By the time he’s fully standing, Trevor looks ready to burst. “Wirt! Oh my god, dude. I am so fucking sorry, I didn’t. I don’t know why I. I never. Fuck I didn’t, I just, shit are you fucking okay?” the questions are rapid fire. Wirt’s a little too out of it to be able to tell if they’re genuine or not, and he doesn’t really care if they are at this point. This guy eats paste.

“Trevor.” Wirt finally says, “Shut the fuck up.” his words are slurred, and it’s obvious he’s still scared if the tremor in his voice is anything to go by, but he really just needs it to be quiet right now. To his credit, Trevor does shut up, but he just stands there.

There they are, two guys standing in a hallway, five feet apart cause one just beat the shit out of the other for being gay. Prom night is great. In his delirious state, Wirt can faintly hear ‘Lover Is a Day’ by Cuco playing from the gym. The beats pulse under his feet, and it’s just adding onto the pain right now.

After maybe five minutes, Trevor speaks up again. “Wirt I really am sorry, dude. I don’t know why I did that. I was pissed and you wouldn’t shut up and I didn’t what else to do! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Trevor hits the locker to his right with the side of his fist. The sound rings through the otherwise empty hall, and Wirt just stares at the first still on metal.

Wirt runs a hand through his hair, “That’s great and everything, but was the getting on top of me and repeatedly punching me in the nose necessary? Or, you know, any of it? You just fucking committed a hate crime dude, do you even realize that?” he’s talking slowly, his voice is tired and he would rather be anywhere else.

“I know! I know it was! But it honestly didn’t have anything to do with you being,” he pauses, and Wirt is about to finish for him before he continues on his own, “Gay. It didn’t have to do with you being gay, okay. I just. I have like severe anger issues. It’s some fucking long ass name, but the shortened thing is IED. It’s not really something I have any control over, and it’s been a while since I’ve had an episode that bad, and I promise it has nothing to do with you being gay or anything! That fucking chill, man! This stuff literally just happens, I swear on my motherfucking yeezys!” Wirt, who is finally coming back down to Earth and is able to process English language again, raises his brow, “ Okay, I don’t own yeezys, but you know what I mean.” He looks down to the floor, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Wirt sighs, wiping under his nose with his suit sleeve. It doesn’t help, the blood keeps flowing and now his suit is ruined. Fuck Prom night, dude. “Look, Trevor. If you actually have a genuine mental illness that does that, you get a fucking pass on the beating the shit out of me part.” Trevor flinches at that, “But you’re still kinda homophobic dude.”

Trevor looks up from the ground, “What? How?”

Wirt shrugs, crossing his arms again. “Assuming someone isn’t a lesbian when they say they are is pretty high on the list. Actually, assuming a gay guy is checking people out while they’re changing is also pretty high on the list. Both of the things you said are pretty high on the list, actually.”

This time it’s Trevor who furrows his brow, “But she isn’t a lesbian. I asked her why she thought she was a lesbian a couple weeks ago and she said it’s because she thinks girls are hot and that she wouldn’t mind kissing them, but that’s normal. Like, I know a couple guys in my classes that I wouldn’t mind kissing or like fucking or something and I’m not gay or whatever. Everyone thinks like that.”

Wirt’s mind just fucking imploded on itself. He’s joking. He has to be joking. Oh fuck he is not joking. Oh dear. Wirt cringes to himself, “Oh Jesus.” he whispers, “Trevor, you do know that isn’t a universal thing, right? Like, you know not every guy would be fine with fucking another guy, right?”

“Wait, really?” Trevor asks, his voice quiet. Wirt simply nods and watches as Trevor seems to contemplate his whole existence in front of him. “But I’m not. My mom told me that I couldn’t be gay, I just needed to find the right girl and it would be fine. I don’t like guys like that, I’m not.”

Fuck, why does Wirt have empathy. If he was a dick he could just walk away from this situation and not feel a thing, but he can’t leave this guy in a crisis. Even if he did just beat his ass.

“Trevor, why do you like Sara?”

“She’s funny, and kinda cool, I guess. I just want to hang out with her more, plus my friends kept saying I should go for it, so I figured why not.”

“Dude, you just want to be her fucking friend. That’s, what you want is a friendship. Jesus dude, you don’t even actually like her do you?”

Trevor shrugs, “I don’t know. I mean, she’s cool and everything.”

“Would you kiss her.” Wirt asks.

“What?” 

“Would you kiss Sara. Or any girl for that matter.” He asks again, slower this time.

Trevor rolls his eyes, giving Wirt a look that suggest the answer should be obvious, but when he opens his mouth, no words come out. It stays open for about ten seconds before he frowns. “No I. I wouldn’t” he lets out a dry laugh void of humor. “Holy shit, I fucking wouldn’t. What the fuck.”

Wirt sighs taking a few steps over to Trevor, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Go home, Trevor. You have had more than enough action tonight.” his hand slides off and he turns around to find the nearest bathroom, he about to round a corner when he remembers something and looks over at Trevor, who hasn’t moved an inch, “Try to refrain from using the f-slur before you figure out your whole mess, maybe?” He gives the other boy a quick smile before walking away.

The nearest bathroom is way too fucking far away, in Wirt’s humble opinion. And why are half of the lights off in these hallways? God, he feels like the character about to die in a horror movie. Thankfully, the light switch in the bathroom was easy to find so he isn’t completely in the dark.

He grabs some paper towels and wets them, and then he finally looks in the mirror. Jesus fucking Christ.

Trevor did a number on him, and if it were any other situation that required less brain power he would be kinda impressed. His nose is definitely broken, if the aching and gushing blood are any indicator, he’s got a black eye, a busted lip, bruises across his face and collarbone -and if the amount of times he was kicked in the stomach is as many as it felt, he’s got them there too- and, the cherry on fucking top, his suit jacket ripped a little bit.

His phone buzzes in his pocket as he finishes wiping the blood from his face, but his nose is still bleeding. Pulling his phone out of his back pocket he finds two new messages. One from Sara, saying she scored with the girl from her chem class and that she has a date next Saturday, and one from Dipper saying they’ve finally stopped driving.

Wirt texts Sara back congratulating her on her suaveness that she most definitely didn’t have (see: nearly puked on a cute girl for complimenting her shoes once) before opening up his texts with Dipper and taking a picture in the mirror holding up a peace sign. He masterfully captions the photo: ‘babys first hate crime <3′. 

His phone rings immediately.

He picks up right away, and is greeted with a very frantic, “Where are you?” there’s faint music in the background, they must be at their dance right now.

“Uhm. The bathroom in hallway E, I think. Why?” Wirt asks, throwing away the bloody paper towels.

“We’re on our way.” Is all he gets in response.

“What? You’re in California how are you supposed to. Did he fucking hang up on me?” Wirt pulls his phone away from his ear, “Wow, okay.” He pockets his phone and stares at himself in the mirror for a few seconds. It’s gonna suck having to explain this to anybody, and he knows his mom will go full Godzilla mode on the school board if he tells the truth, but he can’t just out someone. Fuck, man.

The door to the bathroom swings open and two rapid sets of footsteps approach him, he’s almost expecting to be beaten up again until he’s turned around and hugged tightly. His confusion only lasts for a second when his land on Mabel, but then it flares up again because what the fuck that’s Mabel.

He pushes away from the person hugging him and is met with a person he both did and did not expect to see.

“Dipper.” He not shocked that Dipper did actually find hallway E, they broke in last summer to investigate if the place is actually haunted (it is), so he learned the layout pretty well in that instance, but he’s shocked that he’s even in the room. “Wait. Am I concussed? Is this a hallucination?”

“Er, wrong!” Mabel says, pushing Dipper out of the way and hugging Wirt tighter than a strait jacket. He lets out a sound of pain and she lets him go immediately. “Sorry! I forgot you’re like, dying right now.”

“Not dying, per se, but getting there if my nose doesn’t stop bleeding soon. I didn’t even know I had this much blood, if I’m being honest.” Mabel laughs a bit and wow did he miss that sound. He missed them, really. It’s always better when they’re around.

“What happened?” Dipper’s voice finally enters the conversation, and it makes his heart flutter but also reminds him the situation in which they’ve been reunited. Especially if the pissed off tone is anything to go by.

Wirt shrugs, “I got into a fight?”

Dipper gives him a look, “You called it a hate crime, before.”

Wirt laughs, “Yeah, I know. But it wasn’t, technically? I don’t know I’m still having trouble processing the whole ordeal. But I just got into an argument with Trevor, you know who I’m talking about, and he got really mad so he fucking beat the shit out of me and,” Dipper turns to walk out the door but Wirt pulls him back by the arm, “don’t walk away, I’m not done yet. He has a thing called IED, or something? He didn’t know the full medical name for it, but he said it had to do with like uncontrollable anger? Like it just happens or something.”

Dipper nods, “Intermittent Explosive Disorder.”

“Yeah, probably. But he felt really bad after, and I can’t blame him for having something he can’t control, dude. That would be a dick move. But yeah, we talked it out I guess. I think I just made him question the entire universe.”

Dipper sighs, still tense but loosening now, “So you called it a hate crime, because?”

“Well, I mean, okay. At first I thought he did it because I was gay, but from our little conversation we had after, it was definitely not that.” 

Both twins raise eyebrow, “Are you gonna give us any more info, or?” Mabel asks and Wirt just shrugs. Dipper lets out another, deeper sigh. He’s known Wirt long enough to know that little shrug means ‘never in a million years ever’. 

“What are you guys doing here, anyways? I mean, I’m happy you’re here, but I live in Arizona? It’s like an eleven hour drive.”

Dipper shrugs, taking Wirt’s hand. “Guess I missed the ‘Team Roping Capital of the World’.” he teases and Wirt groans.

“Shut up! You know I think that’s stupid as shit.” He says, and as the twins laugh at him he takes a second to admire his boyfriends face. Dipper always laughs freely, and Wirt thinks that’s one of the reasons he fell in love with the younger (”by two days!”) boy at summer camp. His hair isn’t in his usual baseball cap with a pine tree on it, and is styled just the right way to cover his birthmark. He looks happy, if not still tense about the fact that Wirt got his ass beat. An easy smile finds it’s way onto Wirt’s face as Dipper calms down.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Dipper says, leading him towards the door. Mabel follows quickly behind, flicking off the light. She runs ahead of them, twirling around the hallway and nearly falling over herself in the process.

“So, I know Wirt is gonna wanna bounce because he’s covered in human juice.”

“Stop calling blood human juice.”

“Don’t interrupt me, Dipper. But what are we gonna do when we skedaddle out of here?”

Both twins look to the brunette for an answer, he huffs as he tries to think of something. “We could get burgers and shakes at McDonald's? And then head home, probably. Greg’s gonna be super excited to see you guys.”

“Oh! I can’t wait to see him! We’re here for the next four days, by the way, god I can’t wait!” She pushes open the doors to the gym and the music floods over them. Jesus, was it always that loud? How long had Wirt been away from the party?”

“What time is it?” He asks Dipper, trying to ignore all of the strange looks that are being sent his way. He can’t blame them, it looks like he got mauled by a pack of wild dogs.

“It is, nine forty-eight.” The other boy responds, Wirt nods as they exit the gym into the parking lot. Dipper’s car is still as messy as it was the year before, if not more, but Wirt thinks that just adds to the charm.

Sara, who had apparently been in front of the gym the whole night, drops her punch at the sight of Wirt. “Oh my god! Wirt!” she rushes over.

“I’m fine, Sare. Really. It’s all good.” He gives her a smile, but she doesn’t stop giving him a look.

“Trevor did this, didn’t he? You know he came out here like thirty minutes ago fucking covered in blood and looked like he pissed himself when he saw me. So don’t cover for him.”

“I’m not covering for Trevor! There were circumstances that I don’t know if I’m allowed to share.” Wirt says, gesturing wildly with his hands, thankfully Dipper doesn’t seem to mind.

“Wirt, if he’s blackmailing you just tell me. I can fix it!”

“Sare, I appreciate the thought, but this is really something that should be left alone, alright? I might tell you on a different day, but right now it is confidential. No I’m not being blackmailed, if anything the information I got out of him after everything could be considered blackmail, just. Not tonight, okay?” He can tell she doesn’t want to give up but he really can’t explain all of this right now, “Please?”

She sighs, “Alright. Fine. But I expect a detailed report of what happened tomorrow morning.” Wirt nods and it’s then Sara finally notices the twins, “Oh. You found him. Cool, see you guys.” The twins giver he simultaneous ‘later’s’ and she walks back to the girl from her chem class.

Mabel moves to get in the front seat before she’s stopped by Dipper, “Ah ah ah!” he says, gaining her attention. He passes her the keys and she whines but moves to the other side anyways.

“You fucking suck, Dip-stick.”

“Sorry that I want to be able to comfort my boyfriend in the backseat of my own car and can’t do that when I’m driving.” he opens the back door and motions for Wirt to get in, and once they’re all set they drive to the nearest McDonald's.

Ordering food had thus been the easier part of Wirt’s night, but he’s hoping things will start going up from here.

The food sits in the passengers seat in the quiet car before Mabel presses play on the car stereo. Wirt immediately looks up from where his head was buried in Dipper’s shoulder, a smile crossing his face.

“Isn’t this the mixtape I made you?” He turns back to Dipper, absolutely beaming.

Dipper’s face is red, but he nods. “Yeah. I listen to it sometimes.”

“Liar! He listens to it all the fucking time. I have it memorized by now.” Mabel calls from the front. Dipper kicks the back of her seat, “Shut up! At least I don’t have an entire folder dedicated to pictures of him on my phone!”

“My Pacifica picture collection is none of your business! And you have like eight hundred Polaroids on him on your wall, don’t even try that shit with me!” 

Dipper’s rebuttal is cut off when Wirt presses a kiss to his cheek. The younger boy turns and immediately presses their lips together in a kiss. It’s soft because of Wirt’s busted lip, but it’s still incredible. It’s never not incredible when it’s the two of them.

Mabel makes fake barfing noises, causing Dipper to flip her off, causing Wirt to laugh. They pull up to the drive way, walk through the front door, and are immediately greeted by Greg. He rushes into Wirt, giving him a tight hug. Even at ten years old, Greg still has as much energy as he did at six.

“Welcome home, brother o’ mine. How was, whoa what happened to your face?”

Wirt ruffles his little brothers hair, “I got into a fight with a dragon, dude. I won, obviously, but my jacket didn’t make it out alive.”

“I can fix that for you.” Mabel says taking his suit jacket, she’s almost knocked over when Greg charges into her next which makes her laugh. “Hey there, space cowboy. I missed you too!” She pulls him into a tight hug twirling him around the foyer before setting him back down. Dipper gives him a hug as well, just as tight but without all the spinning, and then Greg’s attention is back on Wirt.

“Okay. Why was this dragon mad at you?” He asks. This had become their thing ever since The Unknown. They would talk as if they were still there, or at least like they were in a fantasy world, and explain things to each other that way. Wirt thinks it helps them cope, but it’s probably just a result of being some weird kids.

“Anger issues.” Wirt says. That’s way too simple a phrase for it, and he knows that, but Greg is nine. He can explain it another day, but this is now and it’s ten o’clock.

Greg gives him a goofy grin, “Alright!” he says, skipping into the kitchen. The three teenagers follow him, Dipper once again takes Wirt’s hand.

“What were you doing in here little man?” Dipper asks, noticing that all of the chairs at the edge of the kitchen.

Greg picks up Jason Funderburker, the frog, and smiles again. “Well, Wirt was at his dance, and I wasn’t allowed to go with, so I made my own! Mom and dad are out tonight, too so I can play is as loud as I want!”

Greg being allowed to stay home alone tonight was a big decision. Not because no one trusted him but... okay yeah no one trusted him. Plus, it was dangerous! But, tonight was their mom and Johnathan's ten year anniversary and his mom didn’t want him to miss out on his Senior prom -no matter how much he assured her he could live without having gone- so it was the only option. No one was available to babysit, again prom night, and they couldn’t exactly take their nine year old to a bar. It doesn’t look like anything is on fire or broken yet, so Wirt can say it’s been a success so far.

“Alright then,space cowboy, lets get this party started!” Mabel says as she turns up the music. The song is ‘You Really Got Me’ by The Kinks, how Greg knows this song Wirt has no clue, and it bounces off the walls echoing up the stairs.

Greg does his weird jump step thing that he’s been doing since he could walk. It’s literally just jumping side to side to music, with the occasional dangerously fast spin, but it’s not a bad move. Jason Funderburker looks sick from all of the motion and Greg stops his movement just to let the frog go.

Mabel has always been a crazy dancer, just jumping around, arms flailing, hair going everywhere from her shaking her head. She’s probably going to poke someone’s eye out one of these days, but at least she’s having fun. Or, maybe she’s trying to poke someone’s eye out. Either way, she’s having a good time.

Dipper makes sure his arm movements hit every beat, spinning around for the parts where there are no hard beats to hit but smiling nonetheless. He looks like an idiot, and he knows he looks like an idiot, but what’s the point in being around all of your favorite people if you can’t look like an idiot in front of them?

Wirt, not much a dancer in normal circumstances, is going all out right now. He’s much more graceful than Mabel is being, but other than that they’ve got practically the same vibe. Except that Wirt actually did hit Dipper in the eye on accident earlier, but that’s in the past now.

The song ends and another begins and that cycle repeats for an hour until they’re all too tired for it anymore. Wirt sits down in one of the chairs, looking out over the kitchen. Greg is sitting on the floor with Jason Funderburker while the twins argue over what terrible movie to watch simply to make fun of it.

They both turn, “Wirt,” Dipper says, “What do you think?”

Wirt smiles. Maybe Prom night isn’t so bad after all.