#but then in college it actually slides more than it ever did in high school

[sunsoak]

I’m starting to think that nothing is as serious as people try to scare you into thinking it is

[broodybuck]

Title: The Boy Next Door

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Rating: E

Tags: 18+ explicit smut, childhood friends, neighbors, pining, confessions, friends to lovers, first crush

Summary: Growing up, you always had a crush on the boy next door. Now, twelve years later, you might unexpectedly get your chance with Bucky Barnes.

[ao3 link]

Your parents just handed over the house you grew up in. It was that easy, now it's yours.

They want to be those typical, retired parents and move to Florida — boring! And since you've been renting a studio in Brooklyn for the past four years, you jumped at the chance to have a three-bedroom house in upstate New York. It's already paid off and your parents are wealthy enough, they don't need the earnings for their Florida condo.

You've only been back to your childhood home for holidays in the past few years. Everything has stayed the same, your parents were actually one of the few who didn't turn their daughter's bedroom into a home office or gym. They left the pink wallpaper, the twin bed with the floral comforter, and the tower of stuffed animals on the dresser.

When you arrive with your two suitcases and some extra cash in your pocket since you sold all your studio furniture, you stare up at the house. You smile from the warm memories before you glance over at the house next door.

An older boy named James lived there, but he always went by Bucky. Bucky Barnes is the name that lived in your diary for most of your adolescence. He was four years older than you which meant you had an embarrassing crush on him since you were twelve. He was nice, he always teased you when you saw each other, he even acknowledged your existence for the one year you were both in high school together — you as a freshman and him a senior.

That did wonders for your reputation, you became pretty popular even after he graduated. Still, you would've thrown away all the friends and parties for just one night with Bucky if that was a possibility.

You're not sure you ever got over your crush, more just accepted that it was never going to happen and moved on with your life. It was easy once he went away from college and three years later so did you. You never ran into him again even when you were visiting home for the holidays. It seems the Barnes' residence spent their holidays elsewhere as the house was always dark on those occasions.

Currently, it's two in the afternoon and the sun is beating down so strongly, you start to take off your jean jacket. You're sliding your arms out of the sleeves when a familiar voice makes you jump.

"Hey, y/n."

Your arms flap uncoordinatedly, still half in the jacket, pausing in an awkward position as you turn to see your childhood crush standing a few feet away from you. Bucky Barnes, looking sexier than ever.

"Oh, hi,” you splutter.

This man still has the ability to make you blush like a schoolgirl. You do some quick mental math and realize if you’re 27 now then he must be 31. And why do men age so spectacularly? He has somehow managed to become even more attractive in the last twelve years.

"What're you doing here?" you ask as you finally free your arms from the jacket.

"I'm house-sitting," Bucky explains. "What're you doing here?"

"Um, well, the house is sorta mine now."

"Parents gave you the whole thing?"

"Yep, the whole thing," you nod.

"Wow, congrats on the house," Bucky says.

"Thank you," you reply and you both stare at each other in a beat of silence.

"Um actually, since you're around, do you think I could pay you for some manual labor?" you ask suddenly.

"What kind?" Bucky grins fast. It truly takes your breath away, jesus this man should not be allowed to smile.

"I have a dumpster coming tomorrow morning," you explain. "I'm getting rid of my childhood bedroom furniture."

"Yeah, I can help."

"That would be so great, I'll pay you—"

"Don't sweat it. Just treat me to dinner sometime," Bucky shrugs, and your stomach drops. What in the world does he mean by that... like a dinner date?

"Oh, dinner... yeah, okay. You got it," you play it cool and awkward.

He smiles at you, amused.

"Anyway..." you mumble unsure how to retract yourself from this conversation, unsure if you even want to.

"You really grew up, huh?" Bucky says, and he scans you up and down.

"I guess so," you shrug, your face burning. "You too."

"Yeah, guess we haven't seen each other in..."

He appears to be trying to calculate the years but you unabashedly jump in with an exact answer.

"Twelve years."

"Has it been that long?" he asks.

"I... think so," you feign uncertainty.

"So, what time do you need me tomorrow?" he asks.

"Oh, anytime that works for you."

"How about noon?"

"Perfect."

Asking for Bucky's help might've been the worst idea you ever had. When he comes over, he's wearing a cotton-white t-shirt and jeans. His hair is damp and slicked back from a shower. He looks so comfy, it makes you imagine waking up with him. You yearn to know how warm his skin feels fresh from the steam.

You ignore your inappropriate desires and lead him up the stairs to your old room. It's then you realize how many years of your life you desperately wanted to show him your room. Have your crush see these walls, sit on your bed, and make out with you next to your teddy bear.

It's embarrassing but probably every teenage girl wanted the same thing. Unfortunately, the thought slips out of you with a laugh.

"I always wanted to show you my room."

You freeze in the doorway, realizing what you've just said out loud.

"What?" Bucky asks from behind you.

"When I was younger, I meant. I didn't mean... I don't know why I said that, actually."

You turn around and see the look of amused confusion on his face, a small smirk inching from the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, fuck it. I had a major crush on you," you confess.

Bucky's eyebrows lift high.

"Yeah?"

"You couldn't tell?"

"I thought you were just awkward with everyone," he shrugs.

"Great, so you thought I was a total loser," you sigh.

"No..." he says quickly but takes a second to elaborate. "If it helps, I didn't think about you that way 'cause you were too young for me."

"Of course, you never thought about me," you brush off, trying not to let your younger self die too much inside.

You step into the room to create any amount of space from this conversation. But you instantly remember the countless hours you spent in here thinking about him. Staring out the window at his family's house hoping the catch a glimpse of him.

"Hey," Bucky says. His hand gently touches your shoulder.

You turn around to meet his eyes which oddly look darker, more intense now.

"I could see myself thinking about you now," he admits low.

You blink, your mouth is suddenly too dry to respond.

"I mean... look at you," he says so fondly that your heart could burst. And he looks you over again, his pupils dilating even more.

Is this really happening, you think.

His right hand hasn't moved from your shoulder. Boldly, you place a hand on his left forearm and you're right, his skin is still warm from the shower.

You breathe in sharply because just touching him, just standing this close for this long is something you were never lucky enough to get back then.

His eyes are still locked with yours and it's honestly so intense you can't look away even as you see him dip his head, lowering slowly to your lips. He waits, an inch from them, to see if this is okay. Of course, it's fucking okay.

You surge the last inch forward and kiss him harder than you anticipate. He stumbles a step back, in consequence grabbing onto your waist, and pushing forward. He walks you back toward the twin bed up against the wall.

When you fall back onto the mattress, it creaks from old age, but you couldn't care less. Because Bucky Barnes, your childhood crush, the extremely attractive neighbor next door, is crawling over you. And it's glorious, it's enough to make you arch up into him and moan.

He lets out a breathy laugh and then kisses you, his knee slides between your legs and presses down. You moan even louder. You're completely shameless, you are, but this is Bucky Barnes. You're not staying quiet for a second of this.

His mouth moves to your ear and he's kissing down your neck while his fingers slip under your shirt, rolling it up.

Your shirt is off and then you're pants are coming off too. You want to get him out of his clothes but his mouth finds the front of your panties and he's teasing you, mouthing at the fabric.

"Please," you whine.

He grins against your underwear and then slides the thin fabric off and sucks his thumb into his mouth.

When he touches you, he's not gentle. He goes right in and rubs your clit roughly but you're so turned on that it's like a jolt of electricity to your body, you leap up from the mattress.

He licks two fingers then and sinks them right inside you. Oh god, it's so easy because you're so wet.

"Fuck," he mutters, realizing this. He stares down, watching his fingers work inside you. Your skin boils endlessly.

He doesn't need to spend much time working you open and he must know that because it's not long before he pulls his fingers out and hurriedly works the button of his jeans open. He pulls open the fly and pushes them down when you sit up to get his shirt. You're not letting this happen without seeing that gorgeous chest again.

You remember so many summer nights when you got a glimpse of Bucky shirtless. Running through the sprinkles or coming home from a neighbor's pool. He was stunning, even back then, but now... oh lord, now he's filled out. He has a firm, thick chest and a set of perfect abs lining his torso. Because of course, he has a six-pack, you always fall for the most unattainable guys.

But somehow you have him, right here, in your very old, tiny twin bed.

You want to lick a long strip from his navel up to his neck but he doesn't give you the chance. Once his clothes are off, he pulls your legs over his waist and pushes inside you so fast you barely have time to prepare. You cling to him with your whole body, legs and arms. And you moan low.

"Oh god, you're so tight," he husks.

You tighten your hold around his neck, he looks up at you and kisses you. You're basically on his lap so start rolling your hips slowly, getting used to how big he feels inside you.

You push him back until he lies down. And then you're riding him. You're riding Bucky Barnes in your childhood bedroom on top of your pink comforter with yellow flowers.

This is your teenage dream come true and that realization plows through you, making you ride him even harder, snapping your hips as fast as you can over his cock. And it's enough that you get a moan out of him, a low gravelly groan that you immediately fawn over.

His fingertips dig into your skin as you keep riding him fast and hard. You know you're nearing the edge, your head falls with a whimper, you grip his shoulders tighter.

"Fuck, y/n. Come for me," he breathes.

And you lose all control the moment you hear that. Fuck, you come so hard.

"Oohhh, fuckkk," you wail and stop moving to let the orgasm crash through you.

Then his hands lift your ass, just enough so he can raise his hips and start fucking into you.

"Jesus," you hiss and scramble to hold onto him again.

He keeps fucking you, gaining speed and making your eyes roll back from the fact that your orgasm can't wane with his cock repeatedly slamming right into you.

He groans, squeezing the flesh on your ass now and you can tell he's close.

He curses under his breath and then he's coming and still fucking you so hard your vision's blurring.

When he finally slows down, he blows out a long breath. He releases his grip on your ass and closes his eyes, basking in the aftermath of his orgasm.

You can feel his cock twitch one last time inside you. You carefully try to pull off him. He winces as you do, still sensitive. You lean down and kiss him, you can't help yourself.

He smiles when you break to let him catch his breath. Okay, he's totally allowed to smile when he's naked in your bed, you decide. You admire the sight for as long as he lets you.

"Well, fuck," he laughs.

"Yeah, fuck," you agree, smiling. "Not sure if I should thank you for your help yet."

He laughs. "I haven't done anything yet."

"Oh, you've done plenty," you tease and plant another kiss on his lips.

He smirks at you and runs his hands up your sides, gentle and light.

"I'll help you move the furniture," he says. "Just give me a few minutes."

"Yeah, I need a few too," you say. "At least this bed is going out with a bang."

And you both laugh. Then you look at him and already remember what he said to you yesterday. You remember almost every word he's ever uttered to you.

"So, about that dinner," you say.

He smiles wide and just kisses you.

[general--winter]

May I please request headcanons for Naoto, Yu, and Kanji reacting to their S/O having anger issues and snapping when a bully goes too far?

author's note: So, hi y'all! i've had quite a year, i'll make a post later. I wanted to clear out the one or two things I had already finished in my WIP folder, though, so this is my return for now.

rating: teen

fandom: persona 4

pairing: shirogane naoto x gn!reader, narukami yu x gn!reader, tatsumi kanji x gn!reader

word count: 1336

summary: you stand up to your bullies! wish i was this brave when i was in high school and college LOL

Naoto Shirogane

For months, Naoto has heard story upon story about how you have been putting up with crap from a group of people in your club. It’s all endless, from how they give you backhanded compliments about your skills to them “accidentally” giving you the broken equipment and watching you fail over and over again for their amusement.

Honestly, you weren’t even aware of half of the incidents being their fault, Naoto had to be the one to sneak into your club room to investigate and find that your stuff was being tampered with in the first place. She absolutely hated breaking the news to you, but she knew she had to tell you the truth. What wasn’t expected, however, was the pure rage that shot through your eyes. Naoto thought there might be sadness, maybe even tears if you were particularly emotionally vulnerable at that moment, but this was so unlike you. “Let me handle it,” is what you told her. She kept her eyes on you from then on.

Which is exactly why she caught the beginning of the incident the next day over lunch. A leader of your club struck up a conversation with you at your desk, and Naoto immediately noticed you were snippy with them. It wasn’t until they dealt a snide comment, however, that you slammed your hands on your desk, sending your empty bento flying to the floor and catching the attention of every student in the room.

What came out of your mouth next could be described by Naoto as… needlessly vulgar. You tore into the leader, listing off bullying incident after incident in cruel detail, as well as what it said about the leader and their deepest insecurities that they actually did those things. It wasn’t for a few moments until Naoto realized that she had helped you put that list together (...sans emotional damage, of course) herself if you ever decided you wanted to go to the principal with the information. Oh, dear, she would think. I really should put a stop to this.

While you were in the process of tearing the club member down with a snide smirk, talking about how “their efforts will only set their own club performance and university admissions back” and “if they wanted attention so badly, well now they’ve got it undivided from the entire room”, Naoto took a hold of your wrist and dragged you out of the room, gently sliding the door shut.

Your breathing haggard from anxiety, she would drag you to a barren corner and tentatively hug you for a long time before pulling back and placing her hands on your shoulders, suggesting with a sigh: “I’m proud of you for sticking up for yourself, but next time do not use my data for your vigilante justice? Please?”

Yu Narukami

The last week of school was rough for everyone, but particularly you. On top of winter semester finals, you had to deal with a… let’s say, cast of characters that leeched on to whatever insecurity you radiated and made it as much of their problem as it was yours. Underhanded compliments, disguising random rude gifts as acts of kindness… Yu especially hated it when they played you into thinking they were your close friends. Couldn’t you see that the Investigation Team was more supportive of you than they could ever be? Couldn’t you see that he was trying his best to lift you up when all they wanted to do was bring you down?

But Yu isn’t about forcing people into their decisions. As much as he has a soft spot for you, he’s going to let you figure this one out yourself, of course with his own support. More times than he could count, Yu listened to your suspicions with an open ear and a sympathetic face, always reminding you of your positive traits. It was the only thing he could think of that would help, but your sorrow turned to anger slowly. Almost too slow for him to notice.

He’ll be clued in real quickly, though, when he sees you flinging a tray of “food” at a group of people crowded around you on the school roof. He’ll be shocked - Yu’s never seen you get violent with anything but Shadows. He seriously thought you didn’t have a mean bone in your body. However, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride for his partner standing up for themselves. Maybe, you could hold back on the string of curses that flow from your mouth, though!

After this event, when the bullies run off covered in whatever mystery substance they had placed in your lunch box, Yu is there to sit beside you as the weight of your actions hit you.

“I… I just threw that shit at them,” you murmured to yourself, barely registering Yu’s presence beside you.

“You stood up for yourself, he clarified, just sitting down to wrap an arm around your shoulders. “I’m proud of you.”

Kanji Tatsumi

Kanji has always wanted to handle the problem himself. Every time he finds you upset or you have yet another problem with a bully, he’s ready to throw his weight around to close their mouths for you. You always refuse though, with a level of grace that sends Kanji into a fit that he has to tamper down. He wished he could take away every single problem in your life, but he trusted you to do it in the way that was best for you. However, that smile on your face was always there when everyone shit on you. Gleaming, wide, mistakenly joyous. But it never reached your eyes. It wasn’t even like Kanji’s own situation. He chose to look and dress and act the way he does. But you were being bullied for something you couldn’t control. It drove him, for lack of a better term, damn crazy. Which is why he was giddy when he caught the scene in front of Yasogami after school that day.

A circle of students were gasping and egging on some sort of event happening in the middle. With his shoulder, Kanji easily wedged into the inner ring, though he seriously couldn’t believe what he was looking at when he got there. You were hammering your knee into the stomach of the ringleader of the group of bullies, propping up their body with a fist in their uniform collar to take more blows. In between the crowd's noises, you cried out, "This is what you get for every. Single. Terrible. Hurtful. Word!" Before he could think anything, he was pulling you off of the bully, arms hooked under your shoulders, feet dragging against the concrete and asphalt as Kanji once again split the crowd. This time, it was his mere presence that had people parting easier than Yaso-Inaba's fields of wild grass in a storm's wind.

You didn't struggle against him at all, your limbs just went limp while Kanji carry-dragged you down the pathway to the Samegawa Floodplain. Kanji was proud of you for standing up for yourself. That was the first thing he told you after he sat you on top of his jacket on one of the walkway's benches, misted from the afternoon rain sputter.

Despite his words, your thoughts swirled. What had you just done? You never thought of yourself as the type of person to just… snap in public like that, but it happened. The lid on your ugly thoughts and feelings came undone, and you'd let them loose. Kanji settled next to you, placing an incredibly stiff arm across your shoulders as you shoved your face into your hands. "I know I'm not—shit… the best person to be lecturin' on this, but," he started, his voice gruff and unsteady, "you stood up for yourself, right? Maybe starting a walloping like that in the school yard might not have been your best moment, but, what I'm trying to say is, y-you did good. In my book, at least." 

[okkotsuus]

# ROSE ANGEL: an overview 🪽

features: michael kaiser x grace (selfship)

contents: relationship overview, dynamics, etc.

notes: requested by my lovely alice, i'm still sorry for that yukki angst so this is my apology, also this is way longer than i intended it to be sorry i like to yap about my blorbos.

HOW THEY MET

as i have stated before, my blue lock persona is a team manager who is trained in sports medicine (this is because i want to be a doctor irl and will pursue that in college after i graduate high school).

so, naturally, michael and i met through bastard munchen.

at first, i actually hated him because of when he first joined and ended up sending damn near half the team into my clinic when they tried to eat with him. unfortunately, he is a bastard who grows on you like a weed.

when he first started trying to use is psychological tactics (as he did with ness) on me, i called him out on how obvious his manipulation was. as a nerd who very proudly got a 5 on her AP psych exam: he should have known better than thank that bullshit would work on me.

that interaction is really what got me interested in him, like the blip that put him on my radar.

obviously i knew he existed before that, but i didn't really gaf until then. it's what really got me paying attention to him, what made me actually see him.

from then on, i began to see the little things about him: the way he eats every part of his meal (even the things that others normally pick over). the way that he never picks up anything other than wine, how he avoids the drunks when walking through the streets. the way that he subconsciously shields himself from the world, like it would hurt him if ever given the chance.

it wasn't necessarily the healthiest thing, but my interest in him started purely out of curiosity: the desire to break him open just to see what lied beneath his walls. it was an innate need to see what he was hiding.

that all led to a tense relationship between us for a long while. i would push, he would push back. it was a game of tug, to see who would break first. and it ended up being me.

michael had come into the infirmary for a band-aid, just to get ness to stop flipping his shit about the small cut on his shin from another player's cleats accidentally scraping his porcelain skin. he finds me hunched over my desk, files scattered over the mahogany as i scribble down various words. so intensely focused that i do not even perceive his entry nor his advance. in a small journal, he sees me writing a list of what appears to be attributes, before his cerulean gaze slides to the top of the page. 'michael observation logs'. a chuckle slips past his lips, almost incredulous. that sound is what shakes me from my trance as i jolt and whip my head around to stare at him in something akin to how a child looks when they've been caught doing something they shouldn't have been. "you've got that one wrong, it wasn't the old man that left, it was ma."

after that night, something just... changed between us. like a wall was let down.

kaiser clearly didn't trust me as far as he could throw me (which is probably farther than i'd like to admit), but when i pushed, he didn't snap back, there was more of a silent boundary than the loud one that was before.

he took more, like if i were to insult his hair: he'd just hum and quietly run his fingers through the tousled strands to tame it. before, he'd scoff and rush to find something meaner to berate me for.

it was like he had started to care.

HOW THEY LOVE

the time between the softening of kaiser's walls and our relationship was longer than one would think it is. it took a year of that weird dynamic before anything even remotely romantic had happened.

it started with little things: a single blue rose being anonymously delivered to the club house for me every week. wordlessly, kaiser memorized my orders for just about any setting the team went to together and he'd just occasionally show up with food or coffee and leave it on my desk.

i really began to notice it when he'd play. because for the briefest, most imperceptible moment after scoring a goal: his eyes would find mine. as if making sure i was watching.

he doesn't make a real move for a long while, simply because he doesn't think he has to: there was no risk for him. there was no rival lion in his pride.

it wasn't until one day, after a tough game against a rival team that ended up with bastard munchen facing a draw, that something actually pushed him to act.

michael was angry, understandably so. their defensive line had shut down ness in the last fifteen minutes of the game: effectively shutting down the gateway for him to score. in that time, their forward had managed to score a point to tie the game. and after all that, when he looks over as the whistle blows: he's forced to see the opposing team's coach chatting with me like it was nothing. it was his final straw. he ignores ness' words as his lips curl back into a snarl, shoulders squaring as he debates it in his head. but his body moves before his mind finishes. in seconds, his palm is splayed over the small of my back: looming over me from behind with a tight-lipped smile. "our manager is needed by our team, speak to our coach if you have something to say, ja?"

ngl i was giggling and kicking my feet while writing that <3

but it was after that michael actually realized there were other people in the world with eyes. eyes that could be looking at me when he wasn't around. and he knew he had to do something about it.

he doesn't actually ask me out, which kind of pissed me off: but then i realized he probably didn't know how these things go (given his past...)

it was short, an address scribbled in his horrendous penmanship shoved into my hand with just "be ready at seven, dress nice."

how he knew where my apartment was, to this day i still do not know. probably had ness stalk me for him or something... that freak.

after that, we were locked in.

he doesn't truly open up to me for a long time, likely many months later.

it's sudden, all of it comes out in one go, like he was a dam that just finally cracked. he tells me about everything: his father's abuse, his mother's absence, his imprisonment; all without shedding a single tear.

lowkey while he was talking, internally i was that 'i'm cooked' dog meme because lord this man has so much baggage i cannot possible fix all of this.

and that's just it: i cannot fix him, so i will not try to.

for a while, that's enough.

we tiptoe around the big problems in our relationship and indulge in what is good. michael simply does not want to open the pandora's box that is his past to anyone else: which takes therapy out of the equation.

it's good and it's simple for the time i am allowed to have him. he doesn't know how to love or how to be loved, but he does it like breathing.

because when michael kaiser cares about someone, he does it with every fibre of his broken being.

but caring wasn't enough, because any love he has is fated to inevitably end.

HOW THEY END

woohoo big shocker, we do eventually break up. this is written in mainly because i want to see how he plays out in the nel to see how and if we are brought back together.

it all happens in one big blowout fight, where i finally see what his father's anger looks like. he doesn't put his hands on me: i don't believe kaiser is capable of doing what was done to him to someone he truly loves.

but his mouth is venomous, he picks at insecurities i had confided in him so foolishly, some that i didn't even know i had.

it's screaming and things we regret saying on both sides.

and it all ends with me slamming the door of his penthouse with a promise that he will never see me again.

he doesn't take me seriously, he thinks i'll crawl back and beg for his forgivness. he thinks he'll walk into practice and i'll be there waiting with his favorite water bottle.

but it doesn't happen. my office is empty and my name plaque no longer exists on the desk: nor do any of the various trinkets that used to litter the space.

it was like i was never there.

and it sends a panic through him, because this is the second time in his life a woman has up and left him; but, this time, it was actually his fault.

AESTHETICS/VISUALS

jd x veronica from heathers lowkey feels like our trope... guys we were doomed from the start let's be honest.

kaiser and i's relationship is late nights, long drives, and silent care.

if we had a song it would be: matilda (harry styles)

⚜️ ㅤ okkotsuus ㅤ 25

[boqvistsbabe]

Update Time

Alrighttttttyyyyyy

Hi everyone, I hope y’all are doing great. I just wanted to make a little update about a couple of things. I’m going to try and organize my thoughts as much as I possibly can so bear with me, please.

Refresh:

For starters, I am going to be doing a blog refresh. Not just like changing my theme and whatnot but more like updating linked posts and things like that to make my blog easier to navigate for everyone including myself lol. So over the next couple of weeks when I have time I will be trying to go through and change/update little things. Just doing little things to make it more functional and aesthetic. I was planning on doing it this summer, but things like work got in the way so it’s happening a little later than planned, but at this point, I’m just glad things are happening lol. 

Writing/Other Content:

Okay so like the refresh I was planning on doing a lot of writing/drawing/etc this summer. Once again, did not happen for various reasons. I still am planning on continuing to put out all sorts of content. I have so much planned that I want to get out because I’m really happy with it. While I still do have plans, for things I am always open for requests for anything (fics, playlists, etc.). I am trying to get a plan together for writing and things to make it easier on myself. To get a little deep for a second, part of the reason I always have so little motivation for writing is because I didn’t ever really think I was good enough/people didn’t actually like what I was writing. That’s a long story short, but either way, I am trying to not think like that anymore and instead just write for my enjoyment, and if others like it then that’s cool too. For my Gabe lovers... there's stuff planned don't you worry

Another blog?! 

I will at some point be “launching” another sideblog. Once again I am trying to organize things and I feel like that would help especially with me bringing theme days back and other things like that. I don’t know when exactly I will like actually “launch” it, but it will be some time/during the refresh of the main blog.

Life Update:

Okay we are going to end things off with an actual life update. For starters, I’m in college now! I def like it more than high school. I feel like I can breathe a little more if that makes sense? Like my workload is a lot lighter almost and my schedule is a little more forgiving. Also with my schedule being more forgiving I will have more time for writing and such so I am def happy about that. I’ve also been having a lot of friend drama going on lately (since October last year) which is not the best but at the moment I am just rolling with it (any of my closer moots feel free to ask if you want lol, I think some of y’all know part of it). My mental health has been like happening lately. Not too bad not too good, better than during high school but there’s things ya know? We are going to end on my favorite update of all… drumroll please….. I’M GOING TO MY FIRST NHL GAME THIS SATURDAY!!!!!!!!!! I am so excited. It is technically a preseason game but still. I am going with a friend (one that is a big part of the friend drama lol) and we are going to make a day of it. I can’t wait for this weekend and I’ll def let y’all know how it goes. Anyway, thank you all for sticking with me and I appreciate y’all so much.

Also if you are newer, I love talking to people so if you wanna slide into the inbox or into my messages feel free! 

Also I’m totally stealing the update idea from @kolsmikaelson so sorry about that but it was a good idea  💀 

I am going to tag some moots, I am totally forgetting some people so I am sorry for that (if y'all could reblog that would be amazing)

@2manytabsopen @krugstrash @jimmystrudel @andreburakozy @sidneycrosbyhoe @fallinallincurls @timstuetzle @typical-simplelove

[pmatga]

Just found your blog and I really like it ❤️ so if it's not too much trouble more head cannons about your OC please

you didn't specify which oc you meant so fuck it. you get Multiple

blair spellman

idk if i've ever mentioned it before (i probably have and i just forgot lol) but she has fire powers like her dad! they aren't as strong as his are though bc she's still alive and fleshy and made up of water. she really doesn't use her powers for anything more than lighting a cigarette when she can't find her lighter, however; that's bc she can't control them all that well. like she's not accidentally setting shit on fire left and right (not since puberty at least), but if she has a great emotional outburst (especially an angry outburst), Bad Shit might happen. thankfully blair didn't really inherit their father's temper so Bad Shit doesn't really happen all that often. don't get me wrong, they Do have issues with anger but that's more due to trauma than anything related to bets (plus she deals with her anger issues in a different, yet still unhealthy way)

is the type to wear axe body spray in lieu of Actually showering because "it’s basically the same thing, right?"

prefers nightclubs to house parties.

another thing that i don't remember if i've ever mentioned before: they were on the track team back in high school. their coach once told them that if they worked hard enough, they could really go places (funny how that worked out). she's not nearly as good of a runner than she used to be, but she can still, say, outrun a swarm of ghosts if she tries hard enough (adrenaline is crazy man)

their last name, spellman, is a surname they decided for themself. and even after reconnecting with their mom's side of their bio family, they still keep their last name as spellman. it's Important to them.

has little to no social media presence. like they have accounts but they never post, they mostly just lurk

she accidentally burned down the last place she worked at (a 7/11). an argument between her and a coworker got heated (pun only slightly intended) and…well. i'm sure you can guess. thankfully no else aside from blair & her coworker were there and they got out more or less fine, so she didn't kill or seriously injure anyone (and she's lucky she didn't). and bc they could never really prove it was her---everything pointed to an electrical fire, even if they could never figure out how the fire got started so quickly nor why it didn't spread beyond the store---she never got in trouble for it nor did she have to pay for it. it scared the shit out of her though, and ever since she tends to stay away from the vicinity.

robert jadeite

if he were in the show, there'd be a running joke abt him having Just So Many shitty jobs. does he just quit/get fired a lot, or does he actually have 15+ jobs? we will never know. for example: waiter, late night gas station attendant, cashier at pacmart (walmart), working the drive-thru at pacdonalds (mcdonalds), pacbucks barista (or maybe starpacs? idk), the guy at a water park who tells you when you can go down the slide, etc. he has so many jobs and he hates every single one of them.

has a semi-popular youtube (pactube?) channel. all his videos are either "sitting in my car or on my kitchen/bathroom floor" style rant vids or 1-3 hour long vids on a hyperfixation-induced rabbit hole he'd gone down.

prefers house parties to nightclubs.

has pretty bad insomnia. he's lucky if he gets 4-5 hours of sleep a night.

he's a college dropout (mental health reasons + mid-semester identity crisis) and was majoring in marketing prior to that. he currently doesn't know what he wants to do with his life and doesn't like thinking abt it bc thinking abt the future scares him.

orbitalia spheros

she’s betrayus & stratos’ half-sister and her bio dad is japanese (or pac-japanese? since tokyo is called pac-tokyo). she didn't meet her bio dad until later in life, as rotunda never told him abt orbitalia's existence. things were shaky between the two of them at first (orbie & her dad i mean) but they're more or less alright now

sunny and orbitalia were best friends back in high school. they drifted apart some in college but they were still very close. orbie & zac were Also friends but weren't As close as she and sunny were.

she Does Not have a good relationship with either of her brothers; she's never really been close with either of them tbh. it's mostly why she almost never comes down to pacopolis except to pick up elliptica whenever she visits.

has made a few attempts to get back into the dating scene over the years, but each and every time these relationships end up dissolving bc her heart's just...not into it (and also bc well. never receiving closure on whatever happened to her husband kinda makes it hard for her to properly grieve which makes it hard to Actually move on). she's still friends with most of her exes though.

akahiro murasaki

was Not A Fan of his in-laws. this is mostly for two reasons: 1.) if there is one thing that both of the spheros brothers are equally good at, it’s at testing the patience of everyone forced by social convention to interact with them, and 2.) orbitalia told akahiro Some Really Concerning Shit abt growing up with rotunda as a mother and stratos & betrayus as brothers. y'know that thing where you're telling someone what you think is a funny story only for them to look at you in horror bc it was actually traumatic? yeah. so while he was willing to be civil for orbitalia's (and later elliptica's) sake, he didn't really go out of his way to be overly friendly to them.

is a transhet man (he/him), he & orbitalia were t4t

liked wearing boots with slight heels (much like his brother-in-laws ironically enough). not really so he'd seem taller (he was 5'9" and was perfectly content with that) but bc they looked good and that's it

was quietly self-confident. he looked good, he was good at what he did, he knew it, and he didn't necessarily feel the need to flaunt it (those kind of ppl annoyed the hell out of him tbh).

that being said he Did have some insecurities, mostly abt whether or not he was actually a good husband and (later on) a good father. as i've said before, he wasn't the most emotionally demonstrative person in the world and he worried abt whether or not orbitalia & elliptica knew that he loved them. orbitalia did (even if she did occasionally have her doubts bc anxiety be like that) and elliptica did too (at the time, at least. nowadays elli's not entirely sure)

gwendolyn hollow

her voiceclaim is sally from the nightmare before christmas

you know how i once mentioned that she uses secret tape recorders to record things? yeah. she does that so 1.) she doesn't have to just rely on her poor memory, 2.) she can decipher anything she doesn't understand later, and 3.) as a sort of audio diary.

is an appreciator of small things, like buttons and strings of ribbon, rocks, animal bones, and such. sometimes she will stare at little things that interest her for so long that griffin or even the good doctor pacenstein himself have to tell her to “move along, girl.”

slightly related to the above hc: pacenstein & griffin call her "girl" a lot. keep in mind she's at least 20 years old.

her middle name, elizabeth, is derived from pacenstein's ex-fiancée elizabeth from way back in the 1800s. and yes it's fucking weird that a.) griffin let his great+ uncle name his first and only child and b.) pacenstein named his grand niece after his ex. like sure it's just her middle name but still. weird shit.

isn't allowed to interact or even show her face to any visitors to pacenstein manor. this is bc the last time she interacted with a visitor (it was literally just to take their coat), they took one look at her, got freaked out, and made an excuse to leave. she was never really told Why but was led to believe it was bc she resembles her great-uncle. it's not.

genuinely doesn't know Jack Shit abt almost anything that's happened outside the castle and what little she Has learned has been history from like...200 years ago, so nothing recent. a whole fucking WAR happened within her lifetime and she's completely unaware of any of it.

griffin hollow

as the caretaker of pacenstein manor and the only one who can/is allowed to leave the castle, he’s usually the one who takes care of dr. pacenstein’s personal affairs---gathering supplies and equipment for them both (yes sometimes this includes Literal Graverobbing), arranging meetings with potential clients, and finding out any recent developments in pacworld (never hurts to keep informed!).

is really fucking cowardly and tends to bend towards dr. pacenstein's will, especially where gwen is concerned. he is Far Too Willing to throw her under the bus if it means getting his great+ uncle's approval.

much like his great-uncle (and much like most of his contemporaries tbh), he believes that his intelligence is far superior to most people’s and that others should be grateful to bask in his presence. unlike his great-uncle (and most of his contemporaries), however, he also knows that this isn’t a stance that endears him to others, so he usually shuts up abt it.

he doesn't express anger in the traditional sense. like he won’t yell (most of the time), get physically violent (again most of the time), or even directly tell someone he’s angry. instead, he chooses to express anger by doing this…passive-aggressive, just downright weird shit whenever he's mad abt something. like "accidentally" locking someone in a room/out of the house, hiding things (usually sentimental possessions or necessary items like keys), turning off the heating/air conditioner with no warning, etc..

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Leighton Meester

full name: Ella Marie Peters

nickname(s) / goes by: Els 

pronouns & gender: cis woman, she/her

sexuality: heterosexual

birth date: 02/12/1986

birth place: Chicago

arrival to merrock: 16 years ago, 

housing: historical downtown

occupation: hotel manager

work place: brownstone inne

family: her mum and dad and younger brother live in Chicago, she isn't really close with them anymore.

relationship status: single

PERSONALITY

Ella was a girl whose mood changed a lot but she always tried to have a good heart, an open mind and a smile on her face. She liked to keep everything that happened before in the past and only think about it occasionally and those were her down moments but she tends to keep that to herself. Ella was a determined girl who always worked hard and was committed to everything she got herself into. She would never let someone down, once she agreed to do something then she would stick to it unless she really had to let someone down.  Although she always tried to be nice and keep a smile on her face and be optimistic there were times that she could be a bitch and she tended not too show that side of her as she didn’t want people to see that side of her. Ella loved making friends and having friends was something she couldn’t help but feel privileged and overwhelmed with the fact that she had new friends and she could make new friends.

WRITTEN BY: Amelia (she/her), gmt.

BACKGROUND / BIO

triggering / sensitive content: miscarriage, pregnancy, depression

Ella was a girl who had a great life, growing up in Chicago, Illionis, she loved it there and loved everything that was interesting about the city, growing up there always something she enjoyed and privileged. Ella was always the happy go lucky kid that everyone on her street used to love because she always had a smile on her face.  No one would be able to mistake the girl, she was always the one singing around the street and smiling and easily making friends. Ella was very close to her dad, actually she saw herself being a daddy’s girl and she always wanted to do everything her dad was doing which led to her learning to cook from a very young age and she loved cooking and when she was old enough she tried to start cooking for her family which turned out to be very successful. She always believed that if she had a smile on her face people would want to hang out with her and for a young age that worked.

Ella joined High School thinking she could stick to that smile being on her face but that was less likely to be the case and she worked that out after walking in the for the first time. She was always trying to be enthusiastic at school and it helped her in some ways. During High School certain people judged her and called her names that she didn’t care about she usually let them slide, but with all that she did manage to make it as part of the popular crowd of the school and going to all the popular peoples parties and that was great, she loved being part of the popular crowd where she could meet the guys, flirt with the boys and make friends with near enough everyone but she could also make people fear her and a lot of girls wanted to be like her.

With Ella being a part of the so called popular crowd at high school and college, she found herself making a connection with a guy in the year above her in her Junior year of college, they hit it off straight away and Ella was smitten with the guy, she always found herself happier than she ever was with him. As the summer came, she spent more and more time with him and as summer was over she entered her Senior year and she had big plans. Before she could start applying for colleges a big bombshell fell on her, she found out she was pregnant and she was freaking out it wasn't something she wanted and she had no clue what to do apart from tell her boyfriend which she did. After a few weeks of finding out and only telling her boyfriend, they started making plans of what was going to happen. After crying and freaking out, they had decided to keep it. However as she came to peace she was going to be a mother, she suffered with a miscarriage and lost their baby. Most people that age would be relieved but she found herself going into a stage of shock, she pushed herself away from everyone she cared about and she even broke up with her boyfriend. Nothing felt the same anymore and for a long time she spent her time feeling very depressed to a point that she didn't think she would ever get out of it.  

  As all this happened, Ella fell behind at college for a couple of months and she thought her future was doomed but this was soon changed when she picked herself back up started focusing on her work and putting everything to the back of her mind. She spent a while moping around but she had to find a way back and find her friends again, luckily her best friend loved her and was there even when she had been the worst to her. Once college had come to an end she had decided it was time for her to get out of Chicago, doing high school and college there was enough for her especially after everything that happened, she needed a fresh start. As soon as college came to an end she found a town where her best friend from college was moving too and decided to follow her to Merrock in Maine and applied for jobs there. She fell in love with the town within the first 4 months of living there and now 16 years later, she has been living there, gone through her fair share of heart break there but also her fair share of happiness.

[missywritesfor7]

🌺 Promise Flower | PJM 🌺

Synopsis: Jimin is a popular dance student and the best one at his university. Mina is a photography student and has known Jimin since high school. An idea for a photo project finds Mina getting closer to him than she ever has before. She learns how big his heart is, but also learns how closely he guards it. Every time she thinks he'll let her in, he pulls away again. Is it even worth the trouble?

Pairing: college student!Jimin x fem!oc

Warnings: depression, anxiety, panic attacks, alcoholism

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

|| Ch. 3: Phoenix ||

Thanks to Namjoon being an amazing reporter and writer, his story about Jimin got picked up by a few local publications, which gave Jimin a big boost in fan base. With that and the great feedback he’s received, he’s been feeling more empowered and confident in himself.

He’s still hard on himself though. He felt the dance he was working on needed some changes so he spent the entire weekend revamping his routine. He let me know he would be working on it in the practice studio on Wednesday if I wanted to come by for more pictures.

I love that’s he’s gotten much more comfortable when I’m around. He was a bit embarrassed and a little stiff at first, but he’s finally loosened up and it shows in the photos. He used to shy away from looking at the photos of himself but now he gets excited to see what I captured. He claimed that I just take really good pictures, but I don’t really have to do much when he looks as amazing as he does, whether he’s dancing or just standing there.

Wednesday after class I head over to the dance studio where he’s already begun practicing. I can tell that he’s made changes to his routine. It actually looks like an entirely new routine, but what do I know.

“Hey,” I say pulling out my camera. “Did you change the entire routine?”

“Not the entire thing,” he says taking a sip of water. “Just…a lot of it.”

“Park Jimin,” I laugh. “Never satisfied.”

“Is that a problem?” He jokes sassily.

“Of course it’s not, your highness.” We both look at each other and laugh. I love teasing him this way. It makes him cringe a bit but then he’ll either play along or bless me with his contagious laughter.

He steps back out on the floor and begins practicing his routine some more. I position myself in the front corner of the room and begin snapping away.

Something about getting action shots always excites me. When I catch him doing a quick spin, or graceful leap it always comes out so perfectly. He looks like he’s flying being carried by invisible wings.

I try catching every movement he makes as he slides across the floor. My camera lens follows every jump as he flies up and comes down to make his landing.

And something pops.

And he’s on the ground.

“Arrgghhh!!”

“Oh my God!” I yell putting my camera down and running over to Jimin in a heap on the floor. “Are you ok??”

“I don’t know I don’t know,” he says clutching his knee in pain. “Something popped and it hurts so bad.” That can’t be good.

“Let me call an ambulance.” I grab my phone out of my pocket and make the call while trying to keep a soothing hand on Jimin’s arm.

He’s in tears and the amount of pain he’s in is written all over his face. I try my best to keep him calm by giving him water and rubbing his shoulder, reminding him to breathe until the paramedics arrive.

I grab his bag and make sure I don’t leave anything behind and follow him out as he’s taken away on a stretcher. It’s a scary sight and I can’t imagine what may be going through his head as all eyes are on him while he’s loaded into the ambulance.

I feel like I’m waiting in the emergency room for hours for someone to come tell me how he is. In reality it’s only been 30 minutes, but it seems like it’s been an eternity.

I sent Hoseok a text when I arrived at the hospital letting him know what happened. He’s usually good about responding but he hasn’t yet so I assume he’s out practicing his own routine. I just hope he checks his phone soon.

Another half hour passes and I’m finally able to see Jimin. He looks so distraught it breaks my heart. His eyes are red and I can tell he’s been crying.

“How are you feeling?“ I softly ask stepping up to the side of his bed.

“They gave me some pain medicine,” he whispers not taking his gaze off of his fidgeting hands in his lap.

“How bad is it?”

He takes a moment to answer and that lets me know it’s definitely not good. His eyes well with tears as he tried to choke out a response.

“I tore my acl.” He closes his eyes trying to keep the tears inside. “I’ll need surgery. And I won’t be able to dance. For a while.”

Those words bring the tears out again. He’s probably hurting more about not being able to dance than any physical pain he’s in. My heart is shattering and I’m not even sure what I can do to comfort him. Without thinking I reach out and hold his hand. Rather than pull away like I thought he would, he actually squeezes my hand tighter.

“I’ll have surgery in two weeks,” he continues. “Then it could be 6-9 months or more before I can dance again.” He looks up at me with his big glassy eyes. “What am I supposed to do if I can’t dance?”

“I’m so sorry, Jimin. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” he assures me. “Thanks for being here.”

Just then Hoseok comes into the room looking out of breath as if he ran all the way here. His lips are pulled into a worried frown.

“Jiminie are you ok? What happened?” He asks.

Jimin tells him about his injury and once again tries his best to hold back his tears. If anyone can understand the level of heartbreak this causes it would be Hoseok.

I can tell Hoseok also doesn’t know how to console his friend, but he tries telling him about someone else he knew that was able to recover from a torn acl. I know he’s just trying to show Jimin that it’s not a career ending injury and he can very well bounce back, but it doesn’t seem like much of that is registering right now. The only thing he’s stuck on is not being able to dance for 6-9 months. For someone that lives and breathes dance, that’s a very long time.

A nurse comes in to give Jimin his discharge papers. He’s given a list of light stretches and exercises to do leading up to his surgery. He’ll still be able to walk on it but they advise him to keep it to a minimum as to not make the injury worse. In two weeks he’ll have surgery and that’s when the hard part of his recovery will begin.

Hoseok takes him home in his car and for some reason I feel the need to follow behind. I don’t know why, but my heart won’t feel at ease until I see him all the way home. They don’t mind me sticking around a bit to help Jimin get settled.

I get him tucked into his bed and give him back all of his things that I took with me from the dance room.

“Thanks again,” Jimin says. “I’m sorry I ruined your project.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” I assure him. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

“But what are you going to do? If I can’t dance what will happen to your project?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll think of something. I’m more worried about you right now.”

“You are?” He asks in disbelief.

“Well…yeah, and you should be worried about yourself too and not my project.”

“Right,” he nods. “Just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

“Right now I just want you to rest. That’s what you can do for me.”

I leave him to get some sleep and head back home where I learn that news travels fast across campus. Jin and Namjoon are hanging out in the living room and as soon as I close the door behind me the questions begin.

“What happened?” Jin asks.

“Is he ok?” Namjoon adds.

“Are we talking on the record or off?” I ask Namjoon. I don’t mind telling him what’s going on, I just want to make sure that if anything about Jimin is put in the paper that it’s something he’s ok with. If he wants the whole campus to know then that’s for him to decide, not me.

“Off the record of course. I just want to know if he’s ok.”

“People are saying he passed out,” Jin says with concern. “I heard someone else say he might have a heart problem? He didn’t have a heart attack did he?”

“A heart attack?” I ask shaking my head. It’s crazy the things people come up with. “No, he was practicing and I guess he went down wrong. He’s ok. He will be ok. But he tore his acl.”

Both guys let out an audible gasp. They look at me a moment then at each other.

“He won’t be able to dance?” Namjoon asks. “What about his recital?”

“How long will he be out?” Jin follows up.

“Does Yoongi know yet?”

“Will he need surgery?”

“You were there and saw the whole thing? How did it happen?”

“What will he do if he can’t dance?”

“Will he have to drop out of school?”

“Guys!” I yell overwhelmed with their questioning. “Most of these things you can ask him yourself. But yes, he’ll need surgery and recovery could take 6-9 months. I don’t know what he’s going to do and I don’t think he knows himself right now. He’s home resting now.”

“Sorry,” Jin says. “It’s just things were crazy once word got out that it was Jimin being taken away in the ambulance. We didn’t know what to believe.”

“Yeah, the rumors were getting crazy,” Namjoon added. “I wasn’t going to write anything until I spoke to him first, but as a friend I just wanted to make sure it was nothing serious.”

“Thankfully it’s not,” I sigh. “But you know how he is. He’s going to have a hard time coming to terms with not dancing for a while. Everything he’s been working for is getting put on hold. Poor thing.”

I pull out my camera remembering that I may actually have a picture of how he went down. I scroll to the last shots I took and just as I figured, I have a sequence of about 10 photos taken in quick succession from the moment he lifted up for his jump right to the moment his entire body went down to the floor in pain.

“Did you get something?” Namjoon asks.

“Yeah,” I say unsure if I want to share. There’s nothing graphic since it’s not like a broken bone or anything, but the last photo of him on the floor in pain has my stomach in knots.

Both guys continue looking at me expectantly so I hand my camera to Jin to let them scroll through the photos. Both look just as pained as I did when they see the sequence of photos.

“So,” Jin asks breaking the solemn silence. “Is this how your project ends?”

“I’m not really sure,” I sigh. “I’ll figure something out.”

It’s hard to have to change my entire project when we’re already over a month into the semester. I can stick with what I have but it would seem unfinished since the main focus was Jimin’s performance. If he’s not able to perform then my project no longer has much of a point.

I think hard the rest of the evening and into the next day on how I can salvage this and not completely fail this assignment. Taehyung comes home with me to hangout and work on his own project and I use him to bounce ideas off of.

“What if you just follow a different dancer? Or multiple dancers. Then you can say your subject is all of them and as long as at least one of them are able to perform in the end then you should be fine?” Taehyung suggest sitting at the table on his laptop and snacking on chips.

“That means I would have to befriend more dancers when Hoseok is the only other dancer I know. I don’t know if that would even make sense to have all of this footage of Jimin in the beginning but no one else until later. It doesn’t really flow well.” Just thinking about this has been exhausting.

What’s worse is Jimin has been texting me more apologies for “ruining” my project. The last thing I want is for him to feel like he’s responsible for what happens with my assignment. It’s not his fault, it’s no one’s fault. Accidents happen, I just don’t know how I’m going to adjust at the moment, but I’m sure he’s thinking the same thing about his dancing.

“How’s your project going anyway?” I ask.

“Great! I found a dog and two cats roaming around, and I think soon I may be able to become leader of the campus squirrels.”

“What?” I ask laughing.

“Tutu is their leader now, but I think a lot of the squirrels are starting to trust me more. If I can get them all on my side then I’ll be the new leader,” he says with a straight face.

“Tutu?”

“I named him.”

“Tae,” I say laughing hysterically. “You know you’re only supposed to take pictures of them, right?”

“Really?” He throws a few chips in his mouth and smiles.

“You’re a mess.” I give him a playful nudge still laughing at his silliness.

While he’s showing me his pictures, I get another text from Jimin. Aside from apologizing way too much, he’s been watching a drama I recommended and texting me his live reactions and it’s so entertaining.

[Jimin]: OMG!

[Jimin]: WHY WONT THEY JUST KISS ALREADY!! 😫

[Me]: Lol just be patient

[Jimin]: I’ve been patient for five episodes! 😭

[Me]: I can’t wait until you get to episode 8

[Jimin]: WHAT HAPPENS IN EPISODE 8?!

[Me]: You’ll see 😏

“I got it!” Taehyung shouts.

“Huh?” I say a little startled. “You got what?”

“You and Jimin are already friends and known each other a while, just keep him as the subject of your project. Then you won’t have to start all over.”

“How? He’s not able to dance.”

“Follow his recovery. Maybe he won’t mind since you two are friends, he won’t feel like some stranger is following him around while he’s trying to rest and get better.”

“You think it could work?”

“Of course! You already have photos before he got hurt and photos from when he got hurt.”

It seems odd but the more I think about it the more it makes sense.

“So I could change it from following him to his performance to following him to return to his former self.” I stroke my chin in an exaggerated way thinking that he may be on to something.

“Exactly! It could be like the story of a phoenix rising from the ashes!”

“Ok calm down,” I laugh. “I guess I could ask him and see if he’d be ok with it.”

[Me]: Hey, could I maybe keep taking pictures of you for my project?

[Jimin]: Why? The semester will be over before I’m even close to being able to dance again.

[Me]: I know, but I thought I could just change the angle of my project and document your recovery instead.

[Me]: Only if it’s ok with you. If it would make you uncomfortable you don’t have to.

[Jimin]: Would you go with me to the hospital when I have my surgery?

[Me]: Only if you want me to.

[Jimin]: I’m asking you to.

[Me]: Of course I’ll go with you.

[Jimin]: Then you can keep taking pictures of me 😊

[Jimin]: Thank you, Mina. For everything.

What exactly is everything?

[thatlovinfeelin]

Flightless Bird | seven | Bradley Rooster Bradshaw

Synopsis: Josephine Wilson Miller is alone for the first time in her life. She got married after her first year of college and became a housewife, but that life is gone now. So she runs to San Diego, to her childhood best friend Jake, where she meets the man who could very well be her salvation.

series warnings: unplanned pregnancy, just pregnancy in general, talks of infertility. past mental and emotional abuse. anxiety. talks of women's reproductive systems (idk)

“Michael told me I had to choose between him or the baby,” Jose’s voice was so flat, so void of emotion. 

Truth be told, it scared Bradley. She went from sobbing in his arms to being deadly calm as she stared straight ahead. He would be more than worried if he thought he had the right to be. He wouldn’t be surprised if she told him to get lost and never come back again. 

He felt horrible, he wasn’t even sure why he reacted so angrily. He swore he never reacted to anything like that in his life. He wanted to be angry after his mother’s diagnosis, all those years ago, but he remembered how he just felt empty. So empty. 

“When I told him I would choose the baby every time, he told me to leave. Well, he yelled at me actually.”

“Jose-”

“I thought you’d be better than him. I never thought you’d yell at me for being pregnant, for choosing a life I never thought I could have. I was wrong.”

Bradley felt his heart sink. He wished his parents were still alive so he could talk to them. Sure, he was in his mid thirties, but he never felt more like a child. He let Jose down, and he let himself down. 

“Jake is on his way to get you,” He said softly, sliding his phone back into his pocket. 

She wouldn’t look over at him, didn’t even want to acknowledge he was still there. He couldn’t blame her. If he had the choice, he wouldn’t want to see or talk to him either after the way he acted. But still, he got up and knelt on the ground in front of her, he had to at least try to say he was sorry. Even if it was too late for that. 

“I don’t know why I acted that way, I don’t-” He shook his head, no excuse would ever make up for it, nothing would ever seem to make this better. He fucked up in more ways than one, “Jose I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I’m not Michael, I promise you that. I’ll spend the next twenty or so weeks trying to prove that to you, if you’ll let me. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I had no right to.”

She just continued looking over him. Jake’s truck pulled up a few minutes later. Bradley wasn’t even sure if Jake had time to put it in park before he launched out of the driver seat. By the time Bradley was on his feet, Jake was already to Jose with Phoenix just behind him.

“Hey, you okay Darlin?” The first thing Bradley noticed was the southern accent. 

He only ever heard Jake’s real accent when he was mad enough to let it slip, but never did he sound so tender. Jake talked about how she was like family to him, but Bradley never had the chance to see it until now. 

Jake carefully put an arm around Jose and helped her up, Phoenix was there in an instant to help the other woman to the truck while Jake turned to Bradley. His eyes were like fire, but Bradley wouldn’t put up a fight. If Jake wanted to beat him up, Bradley would let him. Because he knew he deserved it. He deserved anything Hangman wanted to do to him. 

“You are god damned lucky she’s in that car right now, Bradshaw,” Hangman warned, “You aren’t going to even look at her until she says it’s alright, do you hear me? And you sure as hell better stay out of my way on base.”

“Seresin-”

“No, you’ve done enough. Now Nat and I get to pick up the pieces.”

Jose was curled up in the backseat when Jake got back to the truck. Phoenix, without Jake even having to say anything, seemed to understand that she was driving the short distance back to the house while Jake sat in the back with Jose. He held onto her as they drove in silence. 

The last time he saw her shut down like this, they were in high school and it was after a massive fight with her mother. She stayed at his house for nearly a week, his mother doted on her along with his sisters. It was his turn to look after her now. 

“I’ve got you,” He whispered to her, kissing the top of her head. 

“He wasn’t different.”

Jake felt his heart break in a strange way. Because he knew Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was different. He wasn’t like Michael at all. Hell, some days Jake swore Bradshaw was a better man than him. Sure, Bradshaw had his demons and his fair share of family issues, but he was good. Bradshaw actually cared about people, Jake didn’t even have to really like the guy to know his heart was nearly as big as the state of Texas. 

Bradshaw loved kids too, Jake knew that because of all of the cookouts and events they had to attend since being permanently stationed in San Diego. There was never any shortage of kids at those, and he was always playing with them. Jake knew, in another life, or maybe even this one by some miracle, Bradley would love her baby. 

“I just want to go to bed,” Jose mumbled as they walked into the house. 

“Jo, you need to eat something first,” Jake said gently. 

Phoenix stood near the door, watching silently as Jose seemed to sink further and further. She felt helpless, she didn’t know Josephine well enough to know how to help her. But the female pilot almost had it in her to march over to Rooster’s house and give him a piece of her mind, but she wouldn’t leave Jake and Jose until she was asked. 

“Jose, please,” Jake’s voice seemed to break as he took a small step towards her. 

She wrapped her arms around her stomach, “It’s going to be a girl…I just know it is. The cycle won’t end with me. I’m going to be just like her.”

She shut and locked her door before Jake could even react. He felt like she just shoved a knife straight into his chest. For years Josephine fought to be nothing like her mother, she went to college, albeit she never finished her degree, but she got married. She made a life for herself and existed outside of the small Texas town she once called home. Josephine was nothing like her mother, and it broke his heart to even consider the fact that Jose felt like she was.

“I’ll start cleaning up,” Phoenix said softly, “I’ll put it all on the fridge, in case you can convince her to eat.” 

“Nat.”

She shook her head, turning towards the kitchen. She felt the sudden urge to cry. Natasha didn’t do well with overwhelming emotions, she was trained not to give into them. But seeing both Jose and Jake look so broken…she didn’t know how to feel. She just felt the need to protect. 

Jake sighed and made his way over to Natasha. She was collecting the pots and pans to drop into the sink when he wrapped his arms around her middle, resting his chin on her shoulder. She tensed for a moment before melting into his arms.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“She’ll be okay,” Jake said, although he wasn’t sure if he was convincing her or himself, “All we can do is wait for her to come to us.”

Less than five miles away, Bradley paced out on the street in front of Penny Benjamin’s house. Pete “Maverick” Mitchell spent more time here than he did his own house these days, after rekindling his relationship with Penny a few months prior. Bradley didn’t think twice about walking, or maybe even running, to the house, but now that he was here he wasn’t sure how he was going to explain himself. 

“You could just do that in the backyard with Mav,” A younger voice called from the front door. 

Bradley spun around to see Amelia, Penny’s daughter, leaning against the door frame with her brows raised. After the mission, Bradley started spending a lot more time with Mav, and Penny and Amelia by association. The young girl became like a little sister to Bradley. 

For a second he imagined that someone treated her the way he treated Jose and it made him feel even worse. He really would let Hangman kill him if he wanted to. 

“He’s in the back?” Bradley questioned, trying to keep his voice even. 

“Yep, he’s supposed to make dinner since mom is working tonight, but I have a feeling he’ll order takeout.”

He nodded and made his way to the back. Mav seemed to be fighting with the grill by the time Bradley closed the gate. The man could take apart and rebuild airplanes in his sleep if he wanted, but it seemed that cooking wasn’t something he ever learned. Which didn't surprise Bradley all that much. The only memories he had of Mav making any sort of meal for him usually involved cereal.

“Need any help?” Bradley asked the other man. 

Mav nearly jumped before turning around, “Didn’t expect to see you tonight. Not after your little fight with Hangman.”

Bradley sighed and ran a hand over his face, “I fucked up, and uh… I need help.”

Mav nodded and closed the grill, turning all of his attention towards Bradley. Maverick helped raise the man, he was there on his first day of school, watched as he scored his first home run, and even helped him learn how to ride a bike. He did his best to be the father figure Bradley deserved, even if it meant ruining his relationship with Bradley to do so. To have him coming for advice now made Mav’s chest tighten a bit, just like it did when a teenage Bradley would call him all of the time for help. 

“What happened?”

“I hurt someone I think I really care about. I mean, I really hurt her,” Even Bradley could hear the pain in his voice, “I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me.”

Mav nodded and opened a cooler by the grill to pull out two bottles of beer. He handed one to Bradley before sitting down in one of the patio chairs. Bradley didn’t sit though, instead he started pacing again. 

“I take it this is about that girl that’s staying with Seresin?”

Bradley nodded slowly, “She’s pregnant.”

Mav watched the young man carefully for a moment, “Okay….”

“I didn’t react well.”

“Bradley I-”

“It’s not mine, or Jake's,” Bradley clarified, “She’s married…separated, because he didn’t want a baby and tried to make her choose…but still technically married. She’s more than four months along, and I found out because Hangman dropped a damn ultrasound photo after training.”

Mav sat back and let out a deep breath, “So that’s why you blew up on him?”

Bradley winced, “I wish it was just him. I was awful to her. She doesn’t owe me a thing, I know that Mav I really do. But once I opened my fucking mouth I couldn’t stop. I just saw red and, fuck Mav, I made her cry. I fucking broke her.”

“So, you got angry at her for being pregnant?” Mav asked slowly, trying not to judge his godson too harshly.

“Fuck, no not at her,” Bradley pulled at his hair, trying to get his thoughts together, “I- he threw her out on the street in the middle of the night in Manhattan, who the fuck does that? All because she decided she wanted to have the life she gave up on a long time ago. The second that sunk in I wanted to fucking murder him. I’m not mad at her, I could never be mad at her. I’m mad for her, but I lost control. I haven’t done that in years.”

Bradley was pacing faster now, clutching the beer bottle hard enough to make his knuckles turn white. He was breathing heavily. Truly, Mav hadn’t seen Bradley like this before. For a moment he just saw Goose after his first really bad fight with Carole. The thought alone threatened to break the older pilot’s heart.

“Your dad had a temper,” Mav said softly, “You wouldn’t think it, but damn he had one. He just kept a very tight leash on it, and learned to be a little more lighthearted. But there was this one time he lost it during a fight with your mom. I remember him telling me he was like a runaway train, he couldn't do anything to stop it. And Carole, oh that woman, she just stood toe to toe with him, until eventually she slapped him so he would stop.”

Bradley stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn’t imagine his dad losing his temper on anyone. Every story he ever heard always seemed to paint his dad as such a docile loving, level headed man. He always thought his mom was the only one that had the fire. 

“Dad?”

Mav only nodded, “He gave me a black eye once in our early days, before your mom came into the picture and fixed him up.”

Bradley shook his head, “You don’t understand, Mav. She said I was like him. She thought I was better, but I’m not. I- she’s pregnant and…the way she was crying. I-”

“You really care about her,” Mav added, “But believe me, if you were still a kid, I’d have your ass. Hell, I’d call Seresin and bring him over here to beat the shit out of it. But I think you’re doing a damn good job of beating yourself up.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Bradley admitted, finally sitting down. 

He hadn’t so much as taken a sip of his beer. He slowly started to turn the bottle in his hands. He felt like he was at war with himself. Never in his life had Bradley treated a woman like that. He was raised to respect women, not do whatever the fuck he just did.

“I don’t know how to fix this.”

“You just try to be there,” Mav shrugged, “I don’t think there’s anything else you could do. Penny might be able to shed some light, but only after she rips into you.”

“I deserve it.”

Back at Jake’s, Jose was still in her room, curled up on her bed while clutching her stomach. She felt like she failed her little baby already. She caught herself wondering if her mother felt this way when she was pregnant. Did she ever worry that she was already ruining her unborn child’s life, or did Janice Wilson even care? 

There was a gentle knock at her door, it had to be Jake. She cried harder when she felt his hand gently rest on her shoulder. She knew this was bad for the baby. All of the stress was something she was supposed to avoid at all costs.

Jake didn’t think twice about crawling into the bed and wrapping his arms around her. She clutched onto his arms like she would drift away without him. He just held her tightly and let her cry, because at least she wasn’t alone now. 

He thought about Phoenix, who after two hours said she was going to get in bed, but he needed to go be with Jose. Somehow she understood the relationship Jake had with his childhood best friend. He never had to explain that he loved her, or how, because Natasha just seemed to already know. 

“I don’t want to be her,” Jose cried softly. 

“Darlin, that fact alone proves that you aren’t,” He whispered, giving her another little squeeze, “Even if it is a girl, you’re nothing like your mother, because you already care more about this baby than your mother ever could.”

“I let myself think I could fall in love with him.”

Jake kissed the top of her head, but didn’t say anything else. How could he tell her that he saw the truth that even Bradley wasn’t ready to admit. He saw the way Rooster seemed to break as she walked away from him. Watching that made Jake realize a very painful truth, Bradley let himself fall in love with Jose. Only, he didn’t know what to do with it. 

Bradshaw always made a point of keeping people at a distance. He swore it made the job easier, because had less to fear. He could remember the night, less than a week after they got back from the Uranium mission, where Bradley confided in him. He told Jake that he never had real plans to have a family or fall in love, because he would rather be alone than have someone go through what his mom did after Goose’s death. 

But Jake saw it in Bradley’s eyes as the realization finally sunk in. It was too late, Bradley was already in too deep. Jake wouldn’t say anything, because despite everything, it wasn’t his place. He would sit back and wait. He would watch Bradshaw and make sure he didn’t so much as dare to toe the line that was now drawn in the sand. 

Because tonight, Bradley was worse than Michael, even if he couldn’t see it for himself yet. Because Michael stopped really loving Jose a long time ago, he just loved the idea of her and what she stood for, what she could do for him. But Bradley….well, Bradley loved Jose in a way that seemed almost pure, which only made all of this even worse.

[of-foolish-and-wise]

a uni survival guide: tips from a phd

if there's one thing i know about, it's college. i've done it, i've taught it, i've lived and breathed it. these tips are for first years in particular, but honestly for everybody. i think it's so important for people to have balanced lives in these years -- academics are not everything. you know what didn't help me in the real world when i was afraid i wouldn't live through it? my fancy college note-taking format. you know what did help me? the friends i made there who i knew would get on a plane and fly across the country in a matter of hours if i told them i needed them.

academic

- figure out where class is held ahead of time: don't be that kid who's late on day one, i beg of you

- use the writing center: especially for basic grammatical editing, which a lot of professors don't have time to mark on papers

- speak up in class: talking through ideas helps you work through them, and asking questions about something you don't understand can open up great lines of conversation

- find a regular schedule that works for you and stick to it: my college schedule was morning free time, class, lunch, class, practice, homework. that consistency was a life-saver

- keep a planner: it's so important to have a central place to track deadlines, assignments, and engagements

- annotate your reading: when you're stressing about a paper topic, being able to go back to what you've highlighted and written in the margins is a life-saver

- color-code your coursework: i use the same color highlighter, pen, and notebook for any given class. it's super helpful

- if you can't focus while studying with friends, don't: i reserved group studying for days when i didn't have important work because i can't be in a room with other people without talking to them. if your school has one, the quiet floor of the library is your best friend

- treat yourself to a "fun" class: art was always my place to just sit back and chill, a way to end the night all zen in the darkroom instead of conjugating russian verbs in a fluorescent-lit cinderblock prison. for you, it could be gym, it could be pottery, it could be some random course about, like, the history of cooking or something -- explore!

- profs are people too: don't be too nervous around them. also, know that if you're struggling -- even b/c of something in your personal life -- you can admit it, and they'll almost always understand why you missed a deadline or bombed a test

- go to office hours: it's the only way to get to know professors in big courses, and it's so helpful for both your grades and learning how to navigate relationships with authority figures

social

- don't let academia keep you from your friends: it's a case-by-case basis, but sometimes it's okay to let the reading slide and spend time with friends. i graduated seven years ago and my college group text still talks every day. that's so much more important to me than the fact that i never finished brideshead revisited

- joining a club is one of the best ways to make friends: i played ultimate frisbee through college and it was the source of so many lasting relationships, as well as the way i met all my local friends when i was abroad

- say yes to things you don't know if you'll like: you'll surprise yourself. me? turns out i love drinking games. and theme parties. and skinny dipping. and rock climbing

- don't be that person who looks down on their peers for partying: honestly? that person kind of sucks. you don't have to party if you don't want to, but actually, a lot of those people are super nice and also good at school -- don't just write them off!

- show up for your friends: go to their games, their concerts, their art shows, their standup nights. show them that what matters to them matters to you, too

- set aside a night to do a group activity with others: whether your vibe is wednesday night trivia, a weekly "terrible movie" showing, or a get-high-and-watch-nature-documentaries-type thing, these are great ways to liven up the week and de-stress

- this is a great time to figure out who from high school really matters to you: you don't have to force relationships that were built mostly on convenience if there are friends at uni with whom you click more. people you became friends with purely based on the coincidence of where your parents lived do not have to be your forever friends. they can be! but they don't have to be

personal

- don't expect too much of yourself: a 4.0 is not the end-all, be-all. if your family or somebody tells you it is, tell them to call me, and i will personally talk some sense into them

- take advantage of university support services: mental health counseling, free yoga classes, multi-cultural societies, etc

- drink water: please, please don't get kidney stones in the middle of the semester, says the girl who got kidney stones in the middle of the semester

- let yourself take breaks: if you need to lie to a professor and say you're sick when really you're just feeling down and you need to sit in bed and watch a movie, that's totally valid

- don't freak about individual assignments: my students come to me freaking over a B+ and i tell them, honey, no job interviewer is ever going to ask you about your second paper from communications 101. i wish i'd known that

- go see speakers if there's someone interesting coming to campus: these talks are always cooler than you expect. i'll never get over the fact that i didn't go see anita hill when she came to my undergrad

- do your laundry on the same night every week: i can't explain why this is so helpful but it really is

- keep up on the news and the memes: read the school paper, the school blog, the memes page -- college politics and inside jokes are fun and convoluted and fascinating

- set the groundwork for long-term self-care: all of the above is really just to say -- university isn't just for learning about the french revolution, it's also about learning how to balance, how to handle failure, how to ask for help, how to make a salad that doesn't totally suck, etc

[calebxia]

only you || part vi the final

Stepdad Osamu x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: breeding, oral (f receiving), biting, panties as a gag, pussyjob, teasing, female masturbation, dacryphilia (m+f), daddy kink, femdom, choking, wombfucking, light dumbification, spit, overstimulation, squirting

8.4k words

part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v | part vi || extras || only you, too

“She’s going to be here soon,” you yawned as Osamu reached around you to press his fingers against your clit.

“It’s only six,” Osamu mumbled against the back of your neck. You moaned softly as he slowly slid into you from behind. Osamu grunted as he bottomed out.

“Osamu,” you moaned. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against him. His thrusts were slow and deep and his fingers never stuttered as they rubbed over your clit.

“Feel good, baby?” Osamu asked. You nodded and turned your head, puckering your lips for Osamu to kiss you. He eagerly complied, slotting his lips against yours immediately.

He swallowed your moans as your stomach tightened and your thighs shook.

“Fill me up?” You asked softly, lips brushing against his.

“Gonna cum already?” He asked.

“Can’t help it,” you said. “You feel so good inside me.” You moaned loudly as he rolled his hips.

“Gonna make ya gush around my cock,” he said. You nodded as his fingers rubbed your clit faster.

“Samu,” you moaned. He lifted your leg to get a better angle.

“Gonna fill ya up, sweet girl,” he said. “Make ya a mommy, yeah?”

You nodded again, unable to speak as his cock repeatedly slammed against your cervix. The metal barbell that decorated the head of his cock dragged against your gummy walls deliciously.

“You-you ever thought of more piercings?” You asked as he kissed your neck and groped your breasts.

“Mmm, why?” Osamu asked. His hips slapped against your ass with a particularly strong thrust.

“Jus’ think a jacob’s ladder would be interesting,” you said, thinking of the way the row of piercings would constantly be dragging against that spongy spot inside you.

“Takes too long to heal,” Osamu said. “Can’t be away from this tight cunt that long.”

Osamu grunted as your walls clamped around him. You let out a high pitched moan.

“Samu, Samu! Gonna cum,” you moaned. Your walls fluttered as Osamu thrusted harder.

“Hold on, princess,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Cum with me.”

“Can’t wait,” you whined, pressing your ass against him to feel him deeper.

“Jus’-jus’ a lil more,” he said. Your eyes burned with tears as you struggled not to cum.

“Samu,” you whined, dragging his name out.

“Fuck, now, cum now, princess,” he swore. You cried out as his teeth sank into the soft flesh of your shoulder. His cock twitched as your walls clenched around him.

Your juices gushed around his cock as your walls fluttered, pulling more and more cum from him.

“Gonna milk me dry,” he moaned. His tongue ran over the tender bite mark he left.

You relaxed into his hold as your orgasms finally ended. You could feel his cock twitching, trying vainly to stay hard in your warm, wet cunt.

“Whatta ‘bout you?” Osamu asked.

“What?” You asked, resting your hand on top of his. You slotted your fingers between his.

“Ever thought about getting any piercings?” He asked.

“Why, you have any suggestions?”

“Well, these cute, lil nipples are just begging for attention,” he said, playfully pinching your nipple.

“Maybe,” you said, smiling as his free hand rubbed up and down your stomach.

“Wasn’t kiddin’ when I said I’d make ya a mommy,” he said. “Wanna see you big and round with my babies.”

“One day,” you said, cuddling into him.

“Wanna start trying in the shower?” He asked.

You laughed. “I think we’ve been trying all week.”

“Okay, wanna try, again, in the shower?”

“Samu, she really will be here soon this time,” you said as Osamu wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“I can’t just hug my love?” He asked, resting his chin on your shoulder as you washed dishes.

“That would be so much sweeter if I couldn’t feel your erection digging into my back,” you said. You flicked water from your fingertips into his face.

“I can’t help it,” he whined. “Ya look hot when yer being all domestic.”

“That’s your misogyny kicking in,” you teased, rinsing the last of the dishes.

“So what if I think ya would make my perfect housewife? Isn’t a man entitled to his thoughts?” Osamu asked.

“Nope,” you popped. You smiled widely and twisted around to face him. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’d be your little housewife. But only for you. Don’t let my friends know, I’m supposed to be a big, bad feminist.”

“You can be a big, bad feminist and a housewife,” Osamu said. “‘S’long as ya chose to be one.”

“Oh-ho, when did you get so knowledgeable?” You joked.

“I was in an all-girl feminists club in college,” he said, cockily.

“Mhm, how many of them did you sleep with?” You asked.

“None!” Osamu exclaimed. You just looked at him. “They were all lesbians.”

“Sounds like a club I’m interested in,” you said.

Osamu smiled. “Oh?”

“Wait, baby!” Osamu whined. You laughed as he pouted.

“I’m joking, joking!” You laughed. “Partially.”

“Oh? Really now?” Osamu asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“If you make even one threesome joke, I will leave you for Atsumu,” you said.

“I would never joke about a threesome,” Osamu said. “I’d be completely serious.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Calling Atsumu as we speak,” you said, pulling your phone out of your pocket. You held the phone up to your ear. “Hello, the hotter Miya twin?”

“Ouch,” Osamu winced. “Ya really got me where it hurts.”

You pocketed your phone and cupped Osamu’s face with your hands.

“I love you,” you said, smiling.

“I love ya more,” he said. He leaned down, pecking your lips. You giggled as he peppered your face with kisses.

“I love ya, I love ya, I love ya,” he said in between kisses. “I love ya.” He kissed you deeply.

“Cute.”

The two of you jumped apart as your mom’s voice cut through the kitchen.

“You’re home!” You exclaimed.

“We all need to talk,” she said, placing a stack of papers on the table and sitting down.

You and Osamu sat across from her.

“Divorce papers,” she said, sliding them across the table to Osamu.

“That was quick,” Osamu said, reading over the first page. “No fault?”

“I figured that was the quickest and easiest route,” she said.

You nodded as you read the papers over Osamu’s shoulder.

“We each get to keep what we came with,” she said. “I get the house, you get the restaurant. I’m willing to buy out your half of the car.”

“That sounds fair,” Osamu said. He flipped through the pages, reading each one carefully.

“More than,” your mom said.

“What about me?” You asked. The entire time she’d been here, your mom hadn’t once even glanced your way.

“Frankly, I have nothing to say to you,” she said, finally looking at you. “In my eyes, you’re nothing but the other woman.”

A pang of hurt shot through your heart. You’d known you’d hurt her, you just hadn’t expected her to write you off completely.

“He’ll get tired of you, too, sooner or later,” she said, sourly. “You’ll be ready to grovel at my feet for forgiveness once he gets rid of you.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. You glanced at Osamu, who was gripping a pen tightly.

“You have no right to say that to her,” Osamu said. “I didn’t get tired of you. If anything, you got tired of me. Always flirting with other men, going home with them, pretending like I didn’t know.”

Your mom gaped at him, speechless. “I-I…”

“Yeah, I knew about the other men. I know you tried Atsumu and the rest of his team,” Osamu said. “And I know that this is what you did in your first marriage. So don’t talk about Y/n being the other woman.”

“You cheated on Dad?” You asked, tearfully.

“She did, with me,” Osamu said. You looked at him. “I didn’t know she was married when we met, much less that her husband was dying.”

“Don’t turn this on me,” your mom said. “This is about your infidelity!”

“This is all around fucked up,” you said, wiping a stray tear away. “Just sign the papers and let’s go.”

You stood up abruptly, storming to your room where your bags were already packed, along with a few of Osamu’s bags.

You sat on your bed, head in your hands. You’d known she’d been a bad wife, but you’d never thought she’d cheated, much less while your own father had been on his deathbed.

“Baby?”

You looked up at Osamu in the doorway.

“Are you ready?” He asked. You nodded. You slung your backpack on your back and pulled your suitcase behind you.

“I just want to leave this house,” you mumbled. Osamu kissed your forehead as he grabbed his own bags.

“Let’s go,” he said. You followed him down the hallway.

You didn’t say anything to your mom as you slipped on your shoes at the front door.

“I’ll be back for the rest of my things later this week,” Osamu said.

“My apartment should be ready tomorrow,” Osamu said as you dropped your bags in the hotel room.

“The one in Osaka?” You asked. “Near my school?”

“The very one,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. “Now, tell me how ya actually feel, baby.”

You broke down. You buried your face in his chest and sobbed. Osamu rubbed your back as you cried.

“I can’t believe she cheated on my dad,” you cried. “She was- she was the love of his life!”

“I know, baby, I know,” he said, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Let it out.”

“He was on his deathbed, and she was out with some kid,” you sobbed. “He loved her so much and she just doesn’t deserve it! I wish she’d died instead!”

“I’m glad she didn’t,” Osamu said. “Never would’ve gotten to meet ya if she had.”

You nodded. “That’s probably the only good thing she’s ever done for me. Bring me to you.”

“I love ya,” Osamu said. “No matter how it happened, I’m here and I love ya so I can’t be too mad.”

“I love you, too, Samu,” you said.

“Are ya finished crying?” He asked, wiping away your tears. You nodded as he cupped your face. “Good, yer too pretty to cry. Now, I paid extra for a room with a jacuzzi, just for ya.”

“Just for me?” You asked. He nodded. “So you won’t be joining me?”

“Okay, maybe it’s for both of us,” Osamu said, smiling down at you.

“Good,” you said, resting your head against his chest. He hugged you tightly, kissing your forehead.

“Let me start the jacuzzi, yeah?” Osamu said, pulling away from you.

“Hurry up,” you said as he walked towards the bathroom. He turned and smiled at you.

“Almost sounds like yer gonna miss me,” he said.

“I’ll miss you terribly,” you said, dramatically clutching your heart. “Be careful with my heart, you’ve taken it with you.”

“As long as you’re careful with mine,” he said. You smiled as he disappeared into the bathroom and fell back onto the large bed.

Your phone rang from your pocket. You pulled it out and saw that Atsumu was video calling you.

You smiled widely as you answered.

“Uncle Tsumu!” You exclaimed as Atsumu came into focus. “What’s up?”

“The boys and I are on our way to the Olympics!” Atsumu exclaimed. You heard Bokuto and Hinata whoop in the background.

“That’s great!” You said. “Wait, does that mean you’re with the Ushijima Wakatoshi?”

“He’s sitting right across from me,” Atsumu said, turning the phone so that Ushijima was on the screen.

“Introduce me!” You screeched, sitting up excitedly. “Please, please, please!”

“What do I get in return?” Atsumu asked.

“I’ll convince Samu to let you join again,” you said quickly. Osamu poked his head out of the bathroom.

“Who’s joining what?” He asked.

“Atsumu if he introduces me to Ushiwaka,” you said.

“Ushijima-san, can you come here?” Atsumu asked, looking offscreen.

“The jacuzzi is ready, by the way,” Osamu said. You glanced at him.

“Just a minute,” you said.

“This is L/n Y/n, the number two setter in the nation right now,” Atsumu said.

You smiled and waved at the camera.

“I’ve heard of you,” Ushijima said. “You play very well. I can see why you are so highly ranked.”

“Oh, thank you!” You said, beaming. “I just wanted you to know I’m a big fan. You’re basically the reason I kept playing volleyball in high school.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Continue to play well.”

Ushijima disappeared offscreen.

“You’re the best uncle ever,” you said as Atsumu appeared back on screen.

“Of course, anything for my favourite niece,” he said.

“Baby, that water’s going to get cold,” Osamu said.

“I have to go, I’ll talk to you later,” you said. “Good luck at the Olympics!”

“Bye, doll,” Atsumu said. You ended the call and tossed your phone on the bed.

“I’m coming, baby,” you called, stripping from your clothes as you walked towards the bathroom. Osamu was slowly sinking into the steaming water. You climbed over the side and made yourself comfortable in Osamu’s arms.

“What’s this about Atsumu joining us again?” Osamu asked, wrapping his arms around you.

“He introduced me to the Ushijima Wakatoshi,” you said. “He deserves it.”

“I introduced you to four professional volleyball players,” Osamu complained.

“Have I not more than paid you back for that?” You asked. “I mean, I’ve barely spent more than an hour away from your cock this week.”

“Still not enough,” Osamu said, leaning down to kiss your neck. His hands drifted to your waist, holding you as his hips ground up. You moaned as his cock slid through your folds.

“Samu, wanna feel you,” you said, grabbing onto his arms. You bit your lip as he grabbed his cock, lining it up with your entrance.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he said, slowly pulling you down on his cock. You moaned softly as your walls molded around him. He pulled you back against his chest and held you closely.

“Love you,” you said, relaxing into his hold.

“I love ya more,” Osamu said, coiling his arms around your waist.

You leaned your head against his chest, closing your eyes as Osamu gently bounced you on his cock.

“Doin’ so good,” Osamu said. He moaned lightly in your ear. “Yer lil pussy is clenchin’ me so tight.” You reached down to rub your clit in slow circles. Osamu pulled you flush against his chest, rutting his hips up, forcing his cock deeper.

“Oh, Samu,” you moaned as your thighs trembled. You rubbed your clit faster, matching the pace of Osamu’s thrusts. “‘m gonna-“

“I know, baby, g’head and cum around my cock,” Osamu said. “Feel ya flutterin’ and clenchin’ ‘round me. Cum on my cock, sweet girl.”

You threw your head back as you gushed around Osamu’s cock. Your fingers slowly came to a stop, unable to move anymore. He knocked your useless fingers out of the way and placed his own fingers on your clit. You squealed as his fingers moved wildly over your clit.

“Samu!” You yelped, grabbing his forearm. He leaned down and kissed your neck sweetly.

“Ya got more in ya, sweet girl,” he murmured against your skin. “Gonna make ya squirt on my cock.”

You moaned as he lightly pinched your clit. Osamu smiled against your skin as your back arched against him.

“Gonna cum again,” you moaned, fingernails biting into Osamu’s forearm.

“Good girl,” Osamu said, kissing your neck. You cried out as Osamu’s fingers sped up.

“Samu, Samu, Samu!” You cried. Your eyes burned with tears as your walls clamped around him and you came for the second time.

“Still didn’t squirt around my cock,” Osamu said, disapprovingly. You frowned as he pulled his hand away from your clit.

“No, no, no-“

“Come on, baby,” Osamu said, lifting you up. You whimpered as his cock slid out of you. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make you cum again.”

He carried you into the bedroom and tossed you on the bed. Water droplets dripped onto the blanket below you.

You whined and reached towards Osamu. He looked at you from where he was kneeling on the foot of the bed. He seemed downright predatory as he eyed your wet, naked body. His grey eyes darkened as you spread your legs.

“Samu,” you whimpered, rubbing your swollen, sensitive clit. You whined. Your fingers weren’t enough. Weren’t big and calloused and long like Osamu’s. “Samu, I need you. Please.”

“Can’t make yerself cum, baby?” He asked, crawling towards you. “Need me to do it for ya?”

“Yes!” You cried. Your fingers moved faster as Osamu pressed his lips against the inside of your ankle.

“Maybe try fingering yerself,” Osamu said. He kissed up your leg slowly, lips never leaving your skin.

You desperately shoved three fingers in your wet heat. It still wasn’t enough. You needed Osamu. His fingers, his tongue, his cock.

You pumped your fingers in and out of yourself, crying in frustration. You just couldn’t reach that spot in you. Even when your fingertips did brush against it, they just didn’t feel right. You’d become accustomed to rough, calloused fingers and cool, smooth metal.

You whined in frustration as your thighs shook. Osamu’s lips were pressed to the bend of your knee.

“Samu,” you whined.

“What is it, sweet girl? What’s the matter?” He asked, softly.

“‘S’not enough,” you said, frustrated. “Need you, now.”

“Keep tryin’, baby,” he mumbled, kissing the inside of your thigh. He was so close to where you needed him, you could feel his body heat on your sensitive skin.

He pressed a kiss to your pubic area, and you nearly sobbed in relief.

“Samu,” you said, reaching down to touch his hair when he moved and pressed his lips to your other ankle. You couldn’t help it. You burst into tears.

“Baby, don’t cry,” Samu said, immediately abandoning your leg to cup your face in his hands.

“I-I-I need you!” You sobbed. “Need you in me, Samu, please!”

“I’m sorry, baby, let me make ya feel better, okay?” He asked. You nodded. “Now, don’t cry, my sweet girl. Okay? Let daddy take care of ya.”

Osamu lined his cock up with your entrance. He braced his arms on either side of your head and in one, swift motion, his cock hit your cervix.

You moaned loudly, wrapping your arms and legs around him. Your eyes rolled back as he pounded into you, his hips slapping against yours almost painfully.

“Feel better, my sweet girl?” Osamu grunted. You nodded, unable to find the right words. “Ya were made for my cock, takin’ it so well. When yer my lil housewife, ya’ll be takin’ like this whenever I want, isn’t that right, princess?”

“Yes, daddy,” you moaned, digging your nails into his back. His muscles flexed under your touch. “Gonna take your cock whenever you want. Always want your cock in me.”

“Gonna be my sweet, lil housewife?” Osamu asked. You nodded. “Move in with me.”

“Samu,” you gasped. He threw one of your legs over his shoulder, thrusting into you even deeper.

“Tell me ya will,” he said. He bit his bottom lip as your walls clenched around him. “Can’t- can’t live without ya.”

“Yes, yes!” You exclaimed as he reached between your bodies and rubbed over your clit with two skillful fingers. Your back arched as he pushed your other leg up, knee knocking against your chest.

“Fuck, I love ya,” he moaned, rubbing your clit furiously.

“L-love you,” you stuttered as your stomach tightened. “Gonna, gonna cum!”

Osamu’s hips sped up.

“Come on, squirt all over my cock, sweet girl,” Osamu said. “And I’ll fill ya up, just how ya like.”

You pulled him down, kissing him roughly. Your teeth clicked together painfully, but Osamu’s tongue pressed against yours made it easy to ignore the pain.

Your walls fluttered around him and he groaned into your mouth.

“Fuck,” you hissed as Osamu pulled away.

“Come on,” Osamu said, gritting his teeth as he pushed your legs against your chest. He slapped your clit.

“Samu!” You moaned. His eyes lit up as he slapped your clit again.

“Squirt. On. My. Cock.” Each word was accented with a brutal slap against your clit that had you screaming. Your thighs shook as your back arched. Your hands balled into fists in the wet blanket below you as your orgasm exploded out of you.

“Fuck, Samu!” You shouted, throwing your head back. Osamu moaned as your juices covered his stomach, dripping down to his heavy balls. His balls slapped wetly against your skin as he chased his own orgasm.

“Gonna fill ya up,” he groaned. It took all of your energy to stay conscious as he rutted into you.

Osamu moaned loudly and buried his cock deep as it twitched and spurted out his cum.

“Fuck,” he breathed, collapsing next to you. He cuddled into your side, nuzzling your neck as he wrapped his arms around you.

You smiled weakly as cum leaked out of you and down onto the blanket.

“I love ya,” Osamu murmured, pressing his lips against your neck.

“I love you,” you said. You twisted around to face him. “You really want me to live with you?”

“Of course,” Osamu said. “Can’t imagine it any other way.” He pecked your lips and pulled you closer. “I wanna wake up next to ya every mornin’ and fall asleep next to ya every night.”

Tears burned at your eyes. You rubbed them furiously, trying not to cry.

“Aw, baby, why are ya cryin’?” He asked, smiling at you. He wiped away your tears with his thumbs.

“I just- I really, really love you,” you said, sniffling. Osamu smiled and pulled you into his chest, kissing your head.

“I really, really love ya, too, baby.”

“I just think the bed should go a little more to the right,” you said, watching as Osamu and his friend, Suna, moved the heavy frame. “Hmm, does that seem centered to you?”

“It fucking better be,” Suna said, standing next to you. “Actually, a little to the right.”

“Fuck ya,” Osamu said, pushing the frame. You bit your lip as his arms flexed.

“Stop being horny,” Suna said, pushing you gently.

“I’m not!” You denied, smiling. “I’m just appreciating the view.”

“I’m not moving this damn thing another inch, I don’t care if it’s centered or not,” Osamu said, standing up. He pushed his shirt up as he placed his hand on his side.

“It’s good, baby,” you said. Osamu wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Let’s take a break,” Osamu said. Suna whipped out his phone.

“Let me show you all the embarrassing photos I have of Osamu and Atsumu,” he said with a grin.

“Ooo, yes, please,” you said. You leaned over to look at his phone.

“Baby, no,” Osamu groaned, grabbing your hand and tugging you away. “Don’t look at those. Why do ya even still have those?”

“Because I like to show Atsumu’s fans him getting his ass kicked,” Suna said, following the two of you to the living room.

“He did get his ass kicked a lot, didn’t he?” Osamu said, smiling.

“So you won?” You asked, sitting on the couch.

Osamu scoffed as he sat next to you. “Of course I did.”

“Atsumu is a pussy,” Suna said, handing you his phone. You giggled as you watched high school Osamu and Atsumu roll around on the gym floor.

“Can you send me that?” You asked. “I need it for when Atsumu gets on my nerves.”

“Give me your number,” Suna said. You typed in your number, saving it under your name.

“Come here,” you said, pulling Suna closer to you. “Smile.” You snapped a selfie and saved it as your contact photo.

“Come on, let’s finish the bedroom before ya two bond anymore,” Osamu said, standing up. He stretched his arms out, shirt riding up and showing just a sliver of his tanned stomach. You licked your lips.

“Shouldn’t you be happy that your girlfriend and best friend are getting along?” You asked, standing up.

“Yeah, we could hate each other,” Suna said.

“I knew ya two would get along,” Osamu said. “I almost didn’t want to introduce ya because of it.”

“What? Scared we might replace you?” You teased.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just finish the bedroom.”

“All that’s left is the bookshelf and the bedside tables,” Suna said.

“The bookshelf is oak, so it’s pretty heavy,” you said. “I want it facing the bed.”

“Come on,” Osamu said, bracing himself on one side of the large bookshelf. Suna grabbed the other side and grunted as they lifted it.

“Careful,” you said, following them to the bedroom.

They carefully sat it down in front of the bed and pushed it back and forth until it was centered.

“There,” Osamu said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “Now you can start unpacking your books while we get the bedside tables in here.”

You nodded as he leaned down to kiss you.

“Ew,” Suna said, wrinkling his nose.

“You wanna kiss, Sunarin?” Osamu asked, puckering his lips. You giggled.

“Shut up and let’s get these bedside tables in here so I can leave you two to your domesticity,” Suna said.

“Can you help me move the books in here first?” You asked. “It’s the three boxes by the front door.

Suna and Osamu nodded.

“Thank you,” you said.

Suna and Osamu lifted the boxes with a huff as you pushed yours across the hardwood floor.

“Work smarter, not harder,” you said, smirking as they struggled to carry the boxes.

“Why do you read so much?” Suna asked, carefully dropping the box in front of the bookshelf.

“Yeah, why can’t ya read on yer phone like everyone else?” Osamu asked, dropping his box next to Suna’s. You pushed yours across the bedroom and shrugged.

“I like real books,” you said, opening the first box. You grabbed an armful of books and carefully arranged them on the bookshelf.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people,” Suna groaned.

Your face burned. “I like to have a system,” you said, defensively.

“I think it’s cute, baby,” Osamu said. “Do ya want me to help?”

“Thanks, but I’ll do it myself, you two finish up the bedroom,” you said. Osamu nodded and gestured for Suna to follow him into the living room.

You quickly organised the bookshelf, adding in Osamu’s few books alongside your own as you went.

“I think we’re done,” Osamu said as you stood up, stretching out. You looked around the finished bedroom. “All that’s left is unpacking our clothes and whatever.”

“We can do that tomorrow,” you said, standing in between Osamu and Suna. Osamu wrapped his arm around your waist.

“We’ll have it really looking like home tomorrow,” Osamu said.

“I’m excited,” you said, smiling widely. “It’s our first night in our apartment.”

“We’ll have to break it in,” Osamu said, winking at you.

Suna gagged. “I’m taking that as my cue to leave. Call me if you need my help tomorrow, I’ll be in town for the next week.”

“Thanks for your help, Suna,” you said as the three of you walked to the front door.

“It’s no problem,” he said.

“I’ll make dinner one night this week, you should come by,” Osamu said. “Just as a thank you.”

“Let me know when and I’ll be here,” Suna said. He slipped his shoes on before saying goodbye.

“Bye!” You called after him. You shut the door behind you and immediately, Osamu was pulling you into him, kissing you and running his hands down your sides and up your shirt.

“Wanted to do this all day,” he mumbled, not pulling away from you for even a second.

“S-Samu, we should shower first,” you said as he kissed down your neck. “We’re all dirty and sweaty from moving.”

“Who cares?” He asked, pushing you against the door. “Jus’ gonna make ya dirtier and sweatier.”

“Sa- ohh.” You moaned as he bit and sucked at a spot on your neck. “Samu.”

“Come on, I wanna break in that new bed we got,” he said. You wrapped your arms and legs around him as he lifted you.

“Careful,” you mumbled, licking and sucking on his neck.

“Need ya,” he groaned, dropping you on the unmade bed. You pulled him down on top of you as you leaned back.

“Samu,” you moaned against his lips.

“Jus’-Jus’ let me take care o’ ya,” he breathed, pulling away and taking your shirt with him. You bit your lip as he took off his own shirt, revealing his lightly toned stomach and the faint happy trail that disappeared into his shorts.

“You’re so…” you said, running your hands along his stomach and up to his chest. “Fucking hot.”

“Baby,” he moaned as you pinched his pebbled nipple.

“I can’t keep my hands off of you,” you said, pushing him onto his back. You straddled him and pulled your bra off. Your hands went back to his chest as you groped and kneaded his pecs. You pinched and teased his nipples before leaning down and kissing his jawline.

“Stop- ah- teasing,” Osamu moaned as you rolled your hips. Even through four layers, you could feel his fat cock throbbing.

“No,” you said, kissing down his neck, leaving red bruises in random spots leading all the way down to his pecs. You rolled your hips again and groaned as his cock twitched under you.

“At least let me feel ya,” he said. His hands fisted the sheets as you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh of his right pec.

You rolled off of him and shimmied out of your shorts, leaving you in just a pair of white, cotton panties. You unbuttoned Osamu’s shorts and pulled them off before straddling him again. You leaned back down and sucked one of his nipples into your mouth while one of your hands groped his chest and the other played with the elastic of his boxers.

“Fuck,” he swore, throwing his head back as you ground yourself against his cock. “More, more, I wan’ more, please, baby.”

You pulled back, admiring the masterpiece that was Osamu’s chest, painted with bite marks and bruises. He was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling.

“Open,” you said, grabbing his jaw lightly. His mouth fell open, tongue poking out. You leaned over him and shoved three fingers in his mouth. “Suck.”

He drooled as he sucked on your fingers, gagging as your fingers hit the back of his throat. You moaned as you rolled your hips.

“Good boy,” you said, pulling your fingers away. Osamu leaned up, following them before leaning back. “Now watch me.”

You leaned back on one arm as Osamu propped his head up on a pillow. You shoved your spit covered hand down your panties, rubbing your clit slowly. You moaned softly.

“Samu,” you breathed. You felt his cock jump under you. “Samu, feels so good.”

“Wanna see,” Osamu groaned, grabbing your hips. “Please.”

You shook your head as you moaned again. A wet spot formed in the crotch of your panties, turning the thin fabric translucent. Osamu groaned and bucked his hips, looking for anything that would give him the friction he wanted.

“Gonna cum,” you gasped, rubbing your clit faster.

Osamu whined as the wet spot on your panties grew. “Samu, Samu, Samu!”

You sucked in a sharp breath as your walls clenched around nothing and your juices gushed out, coating your panties and fingers. You rubbed your clit slowly, moaning as you milked your orgasm. Cum dripped down, wetting Osamu’s boxers as you leaned up. You struggled not to just collapse in Osamu’s chest as you braved your hands on his stomach. You could feel his cock throbbing against your wet cunt.

“Wanna taste,” Osamu pleaded. You rolled off of him, breathing heavily as you pulled your ruined panties off.

“You really want a taste?” You asked. He nodded. “Open up.”

Again, his mouth fell open without a second thought. You shoved your panties in his mouth, gagging him. He let out a muffled moan.

You slowly inched his boxers down, releasing his heavy cock. It bobbed before laying against his stomach. You straddled him again, slotting his cock between your wet folds. You dragged your hips against him. The head of his cock teased your abused clit as you whimpered from the sensitivity. You tensed as cool metal shocked your hot skin. You relaxed as Osamu grabbed you hips, guiding you as you ground against him. You reached down and guided the tip of his cock into your entrance. You whined as you teased yourself with just the tip.

“Mm-mff,” Osamu said, his words muffled by cotton. You reached up and pulled your panties out of his mouth. “More, take more. Please, can’t take it anymore.”

You shook your head, rotating your hips. His neglected cock throbbed.

“Please, please,” Osamu begged. His fingernails dug into your hips. “Let me be in ya.”

“You teased me until I cried last week in the hotel,” you said, letting the tip of his cock fall out of you. He whined. “So until you cry, I’m not stopping.”

You rolled your hips. His cock dragged against your clit deliciously as you used his body.

“Con-consider yourself lucky I’m not riding your thighs,” you stuttered, moaning as his piercing teased your clit. “I thought about it.”

“Baby, please,” Osamu begged, eyes wide and lower lip poking out in a pout. “Wanna be in ya, wanna cum.”

“I’m not stopping you,” you said.

“Wanna cum in ya,” he said, frustrated. He’s eyes were glossy and you knew it was only a matter of time before tears started rolling down his cheeks.

“I want you to cum inside me, baby,” you cooed, rubbing your hands over his tense stomach. “But you know what I want.”

“I-I can’t,” he stuttered. You tutted and rolled your hips. The tip of his cock snagged your hole and Osamu let out a whimper.

“Come on, baby, I want you in me so bad,” you said, arching your back. “Want you to breed me, want you to knock me up with your babies, please daddy.”

“Baby,” Osamu whimpered as you took the tip inside your tight walls.

“Gonna cum again,” you moaned, rotating your hips. You moaned loudly, reaching down to rub your clit. Your walls clamped around the head of Osamu’s cock, milking it as you came.

“Baby, fuck, no, I’m gonna cum,” Osamu cried. His lashes were filled with unshed tears as you pulled away from him. His cock twitched as he came. You ran your fingers through the pool of cum that was on his stomach and licked them clean.

You hummed. “Baby, what‘s the matter? I thought you wanted to cum inside me.” You pouted as his lower lip wobbled. He blinked slowly and a tear ran down his face.

“Oh, baby, don’t cry,” you cooed, cupping his face. You kissed his tears away. “Gonna make you feel better.”

You pumped his cock a few times, bringing it back to hardness.

“Baby, please,” he whimpered as you thumbed his slit. You glanced up at him. Tears were still falling down his cheeks. “Please, I wanna be in ya.”

You smiled at him and straddled him once again. You both moaned as you sank down his length.

“Thank ya, thank ya, thank ya, I love ya so much, wanna fill ya up, fuck, please,” Osamu babbled. You wiped his tears away then grabbed his hands as you bounced on his cock. He intertwined your fingers, bringing both of your hands up to his lips. “I love ya.”

“I love you, Samu,” you said as his cock nudged your cervix. “Fuck, ‘m sorry for making you cry, baby.”

“Liked it,” he mumbled. He threw his head back with a moan as you swivelled your hips. “Liked it so much. Feels so good.”

“Oh?” You said. You moaned as Osamu rolled his hips. “You like when I take control?”

“Yes, yes!” He gasped as you sped up. You let out a choked moan as his hips lifted to meet yours.

“Let me choke you,” you moaned, running one of your hands up to his throat. He nodded as his eyes closed. You squeezed lightly. Osamu groaned loudly, his throat rumbling under your hand.

“More, more,” he said, reaching up to grab your wrist. You squeezed harder and his eyes rolled back with a moan.

“Fuck, so pretty,” you said. You moaned loudly as he bucked his hips up.

“Fuck,” Osamu choked out as his cock twitched. You loosened your grip on his throat, letting oxygen flood his lungs. “Gonna cum, gonna cum!”

“Fill me up, Osamu, please,” you moaned as his cock nudged your cervix. “Please, wanna be full.”

Osamu moaned loudly, pulling your hips down to bury his cock in your cunt as he painted your walls white. You reached down to rub your clit as he filled you up, clenching around him as you came. You both breathed heavily as you collapsed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you.

“So, I thought Atsumu was the sub,” you breathed.

“I can still flip ya over and bend ya in half,” Osamu said. He chuckled as you snorted.

“I doubt either of us could move that much right now,” you said.

“I think yer wrong,” Osamu said. “I plan on fucking ya in every room of the apartment before the sun comes up.”

“I say we continue this in the kitchen then,” you said as your stomach grumbled. “I’m starving.”

“We only have rice,” Osamu said. You groaned and rolled off of him.

“Pizza or sushi?” You asked, grabbing your phone from the bedside table.

“Sushi,” Osamu said. “Ya think we can christen the living room before they get here?”

“Only one way to find out,” you said, dialling the number to the sushi place. You winked at Osamu as the phone rang.

He molded his body against yours, nuzzling your neck as you ordered the food.

“We have twenty-five minutes,” you said, placing your phone back on the bedside table.

“More than enough time,” Osamu said. He scooped you up from the bed and carried you to the living room.

“No, no, absolutely not!” You exclaimed, laughing loudly.

“Come on, let me try it!” Osamu said.

“You are not eating sushi off my body, sorry, but no,” you said, shaking your head.

“I’ll feed ya, too,” he said. You laughed as he pouted.

“Okay, fine,” you said. “But not tonight.”

“I’ll plan it,” Osamu said. “Maybe I’ll even invite our friends.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” you said. “Atsumu is not eating sushi off of my naked body.”

“What about Rin?” Osamu asked.

“I thought you didn’t like to share,” you said. “Food or otherwise.”

“Is it a crime to want to show off my beautiful, amazing, sexy girlfriend?” Osamu asked. Your face burned.

“Shut up,” you said, stealing a piece of sushi from his plate. “We can discuss details later.”

“I love ya,” Osamu said, smiling widely.

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled. “Love you, too.”

Osamu smiled again, and held out a piece of sushi for you. You smiled before copying him.

“Suna’s not allowed to take pictures,” you said. “In fact, I don’t want him to have his phone at all.”

“Fair enough,” Osamu said, shrugging and finishing off his roll. “Wanna help me wash dishes?”

“Yes,” you said, chewing the last piece of sushi as Osamu gathered the trash and dishes he’d insisted you’d used.

You followed after him, wearing only his t-shirt. Osamu dropped the dishes in the sink then immediately caged you against the counter.

“Ya look cute in my shirt,” he mumbled, nosing at your neck. He kissed your skin softly before leaning up to kiss your lips.

“Why, thank you,” you said, putting your arms around his neck. He lifted you and sat you down on the edge of the counter, pushing the too long shirt up to reveal your leaking cunt. His loads from earlier were coating your thighs as they slowly leaked out of your used cunt.

“Aw, baby, yer leaking my cum everywhere,” Osamu cooed, gathering his cum on his fingers and pushing it back into your hole. “Ya want more?”

“Please,” you begged as his fingers pumped in and out of you. He held his cum covered fingers up to your lips. You grabbed his wrist as you took them in your mouth, sucking and licking them clean. You looked up at him through your lashes. His eyes were dark and dilated as he watched your tongue move up and down his fingers.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. He pulled his hand away and shoved his shorts down around his ankles. His cock bobbed heavily.

“Gonna breed me again, Samu?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his chest and pulling him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Gonna put your babies in me?”

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, lining his cock up with your entrance. “Gonna make ya a mommy, fuck.” He moaned as his cock slowly filled you up, still stretching you out even after filling you up twice before this.

“Osamu, wanna have your babies,” you moaned as he thrusted into you at a nice, normal pace. You let your head drop onto his shoulder as he thrusted deeper, cock pressing painfully against your cervix.

“You will, baby,” he said, thrusting harder. You whimpered as his cock head broke past your cervix.

“S’too deep,” you moaned. Your fingernails dug into his back as he pushed deeper and deeper.

“Shh, shh, you can take it, baby,” Osamu said as you whined and whimpered. “Takin’ my cock so well, yer so good for me, princess.”

You moaned into his shoulder as he pushed your shirt up, squeezing and groping your breasts. He rocked into you at a steady pace, focusing more on thrusting deeper and deeper than harder.

“So deep in me,” you moaned against his warm skin. “Can feel you in my throat.”

“What was that, baby?” Osamu asked. “Want me in yer throat?”

“Can feel you in my throat,” you said, louder. “You’re so deep in me.”

Osamu snapped his hips against yours, punching past your cervix again, and stilling. You let out a long, low moan.

“Ya can feel me here, baby?” Osamu asked, pressing his hand against the small bulge at the bottom of your stomach. You whined and nodded. “What about here?” He pushed you back to face him and wrapped his hand around your throat.

“Samu,” you moaned as he gently squeezed the sides of your throat. Your walls clenched around him. He slowly started to thrust into you again.

“If ya wanted me t’ choke ya, ya jus’ had t’ ask,” he said. You breathed shallowly as he squeezed harder.

“More, more,” you breathed, holding on to his wrist as your lungs started to burn. “Fuck me.”

“Ya want more?” Osamu asked. His hips sped up, slapping against your noisily as he pressed down on your throat.

You couldn’t speak as he pounded into you, fucking past your cervix with every thrust. Your lungs burned and your head spun from lack of oxygen.

“Sa-mu,” you choked, holding onto his forearm loosely. He grunted and thrusted into you harder.

“Gonna cum around my cock, baby?” He asked, grunting as your walls clenched around him. You couldn’t answer, not even able to nod your head in response.

“Can’t answer? Aw, is my baby fucked dumb?” He cooed. You could barely comprehend his words as your head swam.

“My dumb, lil baby,” Osamu cooed, letting his hand loosen. You gasped as oxygen flooded your lungs. Your head spun and you moaned as your walls fluttered around Osamu’s cock. “Cum around my cock.”

“Cumming,” you gasped as Osamu’s hand tightened around your throat again. Your eyes rolled back as you gushed around him. Osamu fucked you through your orgasm, each thrust accompanied by the sound of Osamu’s skin against yours and a loud squelch as your juices dripped down your skin.

“Feels so good to be in control,” Osamu said, smiling wickedly as he choked you. “I control everything you do. When you cum, when you breathe. I love that you let me use you like a lil doll.”

You smiled as Osamu kissed you roughly. He released your throat and pulled back.

“Samu,” you whined.

“Open.” He didn’t give you a choice as he squeezed your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. You stuck your tongue out as he gathered spit in his mouth.

“My good, sweet girl,” he cooed. He spat in your mouth before kissing you messily. A mix of yours and his spit ran down your chins as he devoured you.

“Gonna cum in you,” he groaned as he pulled back, strands of saliva still connecting you two.

“Please, please,” you begged, wrapping your arms around his chest and digging your nails into the back of his shoulders. You pulled him in deeper with your legs wrapping around him tighter. “Knock me up, Samu, please.”

“Ya gonna cum with me?” He asked, rolling his hips. You nodded as he reached down to rub your clit. You moaned loudly.

“Gonna fill ya up, sweet girl,” Osamu moaned. You nodded and let your head fall against his shoulder. He moaned as you licked and sucked at his neck.

“Fuck,” you hissed as his cock twitched inside you. “Cum in me.”

Osamu grunted as he slapped your clit.

“Wan’ ya to cum ‘round my cock,” he said, slapping your clit again. Your thighs trembled as he rubbed your clit in fast circles.

“Samu, Samu,” you cried. “Gonna cum.”

You moaned, long and high pitched as your walls clamped down around him. He groaned as you gushed around him. His cock throbbed and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his cum.

You whimpered as he pulled out, clenching around nothing and pushing his cum out. He tutted and used his fingers to push it back in.

“Be a good girl and keep my cum in you,” he said.

You nodded and leaned back against the cabinets as he pulled his shorts up and started washing the dishes.

“Samu,” you murmured, carefully climbing off the counter. Your legs wobbled and you quickly wrapped your arms around Osamu, trying to keep yourself upright.

“Be careful, baby,” he said, drying the dishes. “You should’ve stayed on the counter until I was done. Come ‘ere.”

He gently twisted around in your arms and scooped you up, holding you closely to his chest.

“I love you,” you mumbled as he carried you through your bedroom and into the connected bathroom.

“I love ya, too, baby,” he said, kissing your forehead as he set you down on the marble countertop.

He started the bath and turned back towards you. “Now, stay there until I get back. Okay?”

You nodded and leaned back against the mirror. You could feel Osamu’s cum leaking out of you, so you leaned down and pushed it back in. You moaned softly as you thrusted your finger in and out, coating them in Osamu’s cum. You licked your fingers clean and pushed them back into you.

“What’s this?” Osamu asked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe.

“D-Didn’t wanna lose your cum,” you moaned, using your other hand to rub your clit. “Kept leaking out.”

“Want me to get ya a plug, baby?” Osamu asked, watching hungrily as you fingered yourself. You nodded.

“Don’t wanna lose any,” you said. You moaned as your walls fluttered around your fingers. “Wanna cum.”

“G’head, baby,” he said, stepping closer to you. He kneeled in front of you, spreading your legs as your thighs shook. “Come on, cum fer me.”

“Daddy,” you keened, back arching. You moaned loudly as you pulled your fingers out of your heat and focused on your clit. You cried out as Osamu spread your legs further. “Fuck, gonna-gonna—“ You cut off with a loud moan as you squirted into Osamu’s face. Your thighs rested on his shoulders as your juices dripped down his face.

He closed his eyes slowly. “Fuck me,” he groaned, palming himself through his shorts. “Yer so hot, baby.”

You slouched down as he turned the bathtub water off and then returned to his spot between your thighs.

“Samu, no, no more,” you moaned as he buried his face in your cunt. You tangled your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him away as he licked up your slit.

“Ya got more in ya,” he said, pulling back. He kissed the inside of your thigh gently before licking into your wet, hot heat. You squirmed as his tongue pushed into your hole, his nose bumping your clit as he slurped up a mixture of both of your cum.

“Samu,” you whined, tugging his hair. He groaned, sending vibrations straight to your cunt. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked roughly, desperately wanting you to cum in his face again.

“Come on, want ya t’ cum in my face,” he said, pulling back to breathe.

“Samu, it hurts,” you cried as he shoved three fingers in your abused hole. He ignored you as he flicked his tongue against your clit. Your eyes burned as your legs shook from overstimulation.

Osamu added a fourth finger as he thrusted in and out of you. His other hand palmed at his half hard cock through his shorts.

“Samu!” You squealed, thighs clamping around his head as he curled his fingers in you, dragging against that spongy spot. He curled his fingers again and again, sucking at your clit harshly.

“Fuck, fuck! Gonna cum! Samu!” Tears rolled down your cheeks as he pulled his fingers out of you and shoved his tongue in your stretched out hole as you came. Your juices gushed around his tongue as he moaned.

“That’s my girl,” he said, smiling as he leaned back on his feet. You breathed heavily as you leaned against the mirror, chest heaving. “Ya wanna get in the bath, now?”

You nodded. He carefully pulled his shirt off of you and pushed his shorts down before gently picking you up. He eased into the bathtub, rearranging you once he was comfortably leaning back in the hot water. You leaned against his chest. You crossed your arms and intertwined your fingers with his as you closed your eyes.

“Hey, baby?” Osamu asked.

“Hmm?” You hummed. He nosed your neck, pressing a few kisses against your skin before speaking again.

“Ya know I love ya,” he said, lips brushing against your ear. “Right?”

“I love you, too, Samu,” you said, leaning your head back on his shoulder.

“Only me?” He asked, kissing your shoulder.

“Only you.”

[v-hope]

Tiger Lily

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk x Reader

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, smut, established relationship, College!AU

Word Count: 11.3k

Summary: After finding out your boyfriend was the one to secretly leave flowers in your seat every week back in high school, you have many questions he’s willing to answer. And after finding out the reason the two of you had not gotten together back then was because of your ex best friend, the two of you decided that, first, you were never letting anyone else get in between you, and, second, you were making the most out of your time together from now on.

—Alternarively, the one in which you and your boyfriend finally get your place all to your own and he decides he’s not letting his nonexistent sexual experience stop him from having his way with you anymore.

Warnings: Virgin!JK (a.k.a. male virginity loss), fingering, cunnilingus, handjob (kinda), penetrative sex, protected sex, very slight (male) overstimulation, shy and confident guk keep switching places (when do they not), just very lovey dovey, very intimate.

A/N: Helloo, this is part 33 of my Social Media AU Tiger Flower, but you can still read it if you don’t follow the story. I’m actually shocked by how long this turned out to be but wbk I’m soft as hell for this couple 🥺 so please give it lots of love because I put a lot of effort in this ksñaks. I hope you guys enjoy! Oh, and also, I’m bolding the first and last sentence of the smut part, so if you don’t wanna read it just skip what’s in between the bolded words lol.

“I’ll get it” Yoongi announced when someone called on the door, leaving you and Jimin alone on the sofa as he rushed up to get it.

As soon as he opened it and Jeongguk stepped inside your shared place, bowing politely to your friends before his stare fell on you, you felt your heart race. Saying nothing, you gave him a closed mouth smile, having him do the same at the sight of yours. Although it hadn’t been longer than a week, it had been the longest you had gone without seeing each other ever since you became friends, and, even though you weren’t really showing it right then —as for some reason you were nervous as hell to see each other again—, it was unbelievable how happy you were at the mere sight of one another.

“We were just leaving” Yoongi informed, catching up on what was going on. After all, you had told both him and Jimin that your boyfriend would be coming over to talk things out.

“We were?” Jimin asked with furrowed eyebrows. “I just got home”.

“Let’s give them some privacy” he tilted his head towards the opened door so Jimin would tag along.

“I can go to my room for that”.

“Yah! We all know your nosy ass will eavesdrop everything that way” Yoongi called him out, and you didn’t miss the way Jeongguk had to lower his head not to show his amused smile, being already used to your roommates’ endless bickering antics by now. “Come on, let’s go see Jin hyung at his pub”.

Simple as that, Jimin left your side in a heartbeat to go to the door. “Well, I won’t say no to drinking” he admitted, stopping right in front of Jeongguk and pointing an accusing finger at him. “Take care of my baby”.

“My baby” Guk corrected him, mumbling his words low enough for you not to hear.

Although, unlike you, Jimin did hear —for that had been your boyfriend’s intention—, he said nothing, instead glaring at him the way he always did whenever that discussion over you took place at least twice a week, and walking out of the apartment for once and for all. Yoongi, on the other hand, gave the two of you a small thumbs up before following behind his friend.

And just like that, with the sound of the door closing, silence was quick to take over the room.

This was probably the first time ever since you met that neither of you knew what to say. Fuck, this was probably the first time in your life you didn’t know how to start a conversation. And it wasn’t like you could go over there and kiss him like you were dying to, could you? You had not completely made up yet. That’s what he was here for after all. To talk, not to make out. Although you weren’t really against that idea, and he most definitely was not either — the way his eyes fixed on your lips even all the way over from the door was enough to tell you so.

It had been a good couple of days since you had last seen each other after all.

“You, uh…” your voice came out quite unsteady as you stood up, fixing the plain t-shirt and cotton pyjama pants you were wearing. “Are you hungry?” you asked, walking towards the kitchen and having him quietly follow right behind as you entered it. “Wanna eat something? Drink something?”

He shook his head no when you turned around to look at him, resting your hands on the counter as you leaned against it. “Just wanna clear up your questions”.

You nodded, for that was what he was here for after all, to clear everything up so the two of you could go back to normal. So you could go back to being the happy couple you both loved so much.

“So what are they?” he pushed it when you stood there with no signs of wanting to speak any time soon.

“I just…” you shrugged, making yourself comfortable by sitting at the edge of the counter. “Why didn’t you tell me before that you were the one sending me flowers back then?”

He pouted in confusion as he came closer to you. “When?”

“When we were friends…”

“It would’ve been out of place back then, petal” he explained. “We were just friends and you were into someone else. It would’ve been awkward for us and I really didn’t wanna lose you as my friend” his voice couldn’t help but come out rather bitterly at that, remembering all the thoughts that had invaded his mind when he first saw his chance to let you know it had been him all along, all the thoughts that kept him back from telling you.

“And when we started dating?” you tilted your head. “You had so many chances to tell me, Guk…”

“When we started dating I just didn’t think it mattered anymore” he confessed, unconsciously resting his hands on your knees. “I had you, I really didn’t care about it anymore”.

“You could’ve still told me…”

“And how was I supposed to bring it up? It’s not something I can just say out of nowhere” he pointed out, having you nodding understandingly. “And what was I supposed to say anyway? Hey there, I’m your flower boy?”

A light laugh escaped his mouth when you playfully shoved him away at his words, mocking what you had once told him was the confession you had been expecting from your secret admirer. Holding your hands, he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, and hence, closer to him. Taking advantage of that, you intertwined your fingers, enjoying the familiar warmth of his hands as you admired the way he softly swayed them together.

“This is so surreal” you sighed.

“In a good or a bad way?”

You shook your head, not being able to give him a proper answer. “I just… I always wanted it to be you so bad, and for a good while I was sure it was you, but it made sense that you were into Sooyeon instead”.

Jeongguk furrowed his eyebrows, the mere thought of ever feeling something for her making him want to gawk. “How could that have ever made sense?”

“She was more like you” you pointed out, rushing to make your point before he could snap at you for comparing the two of them. “Like, yes, she was popular and had lots of friends, but she was the most quiet out of all of us. Believe it or not, she was really shy back then, an—”

“And why would I have wanted more of the same?”

“Huh?” you were taken aback by his question.

“You’re saying she was like me, then I don’t understand why would I have wanted to be with her” he said as if it was obvious.  “If I barely ever speak and so did she… I mean, how would that have even worked out?”

You shrugged, not being able to help the small smile that had started curving up your lips. “Is that why you fall for loud asses like me? So someone else will make up for your lack of talking?”

He chuckled at the teasing tone in your voice, allowing his hands to travel up to your thighs and tenderly drawing circles on them with his thumbs. “Not really” your eyebrows knitted together at his words. “There were a lot of loud girls who would not shut up to save their lives in our class and I didn’t really like them. If anything, they annoyed the hell out of me”.

“Why’d you even want to be with me then?” you wondered, being genuinely curious as to what about your loud, chatty antics, made you different to the rest of your loud classmates.

“You really don’t know why I’ve always liked you?”

You shook your head no. “Why is it?”

Taking in a deep breath, he took a step back so he could collect his thoughts before answering your question. “I don’t think you even remember when I just transferred to our high school in the second year, let alone my first day there. Mrs. Kang made me sit on the empty table next to yours and then proceeded to pass around a surprise test, and me being me, of course I forgot my pencil case at home that day,” he huffed, causing you to chuckle under your breath. “So I just sat there internally freaking out because I couldn’t bring myself to ask anyone for a pen, like I couldn’t move and my voice literally wouldn’t come out no matter how hard I tried” a breathy laugh abandoned his lips. “And I was accepting the idea of turning in a blank paper when suddenly a pen was placed on my table. So my eyes followed your hand back to your table and there you were with your eyes stuck to the test, solving the math problems like you had not just saved me from failing on my very first day as the new kid,” you laughed at his dramatism, however, you managed to remember about that moment. “And then as soon as the class ended you were surrounded by people and you were all talking nonstop and I didn’t know how to give you your pen back, so I tried to slide it into your table but you caught me and told me I could keep it, that it was a ‘welcome present’, and then you smiled at me and honestly that was it for me, Y/N”.

“It was?” you wondered in awe, eyes shining when he nodded.

“I didn’t like loud and popular people up until then, which is kinda weird considering Tae’s my best friend” a throaty laugh escaped your lips at his remark. “But although you were those things, you always got me. You just… understood, in a way. Like, you didn’t pressure me to talk or made me feel bad for not doing so, like the rest of the popular kids did. If anything, you would try to make me feel like I wasn’t all on my own whilst leaving me alone like I wanted” he tilted his head, wondering if what he just said had made any sense, knowing you understood his point when you smiled ever so sweetly. “Like when you added me to your group project one time and let me send my part instead of having to go hang out with you and your friends for an entire afternoon, or when you would invite me to your birthdays along with the rest of the class and then proceeded to tell me not to feel pressured to go if I didn’t feel like it. And even now, ever since the beginning you made me feel good about not really being into partying and barely ever talking”.

“You’ve been more talkative with me lately, though” you pointed out as you mindlessly played with the hair at the back of his head. “Although this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk”.

He chuckled, playfully pinching your thighs. “Don’t get used to it”.

“I won’t, I won’t” you chuckled, planting a chaste kiss to his chest. “Anyway, you said I get you but I didn’t let you do your part of the project on your own this year, though” you reminded him with a feigned pout that he couldn’t help but find the cutest. “And I force you to spend time with me pretty much everyday now. Will you forgive me?”

Jeongguk let out a throaty laugh, leaning in just enough for his lips to press to your cheek. “I got to date you now thanks to that, so you’re forgiven” he planted another kiss to the curved up corner of your smiling mouth. “And funny how you think you’re forcing me when half the time it’s me asking to hang out”.

You giggled. “We love a 50/50 relationship”.

Tilting your head ever so slightly to take a better look at him after hearing him chuckle, you were greatly surprised by his lips pressing down on yours.

Although you had jokingly said that last sentence, it was not far from the truth at all. It wasn’t just you chasing after him and wanting to be with him all the time, but him wanting the exact same all the same. So you could tell by the way he was kissing you right then. It was slow, painfully slow, yet the way his hands were firmly cupping your face to keep you from moving away as he deepened the kiss, could not fail to tell you just how much he had missed you, needed you, those past few days you were apart.

Pressing one small peck to his mouth, you tugged at the fabric of his sweatshirt to pull him closer to your body, later wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and resting your face on his chest — a content sigh escaping your mouth when his arms did the same with you and his lips kissed the crown of your head.

“It really never would’ve crossed my mind that you liked me way before the whole flowers thing...”

“Not even when that one summer we would keep running into each other at the park and you would catch me staring from time to time?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

The heat didn’t wait to reach your cheeks at that. You remembered that very well, for it was the summer you caught feelings for him as well, the one right before you entered your last year of high school. You would go out for walks on your own just for the sake of doing something other than staying in texting your friends all day long, and would run into him most of the time while he walked his dog, the one you now knew was named Gold.

Although you had talked in class more than once —or well, you had talked to him more than once—, you were not friends, and hence, neither of you got the guts to come close to one another to try and start small talk. However, that didn’t stop either of you from staring at each other when you were not looking. Sometimes you would catch each other staring, though, and you couldn’t stop an amused smile from curving up your lips when you remembered one particular time he had choked on air when you smiled at him after catching his eyes being fixed on you, just like he had choked earlier this year when you had asked him if you could sit next to him in class. It seemed to be a habit of his by now, at least when it came to you.

“I thought you were just judging me over the way I was always sniffing the flowers and taking pictures of them…” you admitted, for although a part of you did want to believe he was into you back then, you couldn’t really bring yourself to fully believe it.

He pulled you back by your shoulders so he could give you a questioning look. “Judging you with heart eyes?”

“Yah!” you called him out, feeling your cheeks burn.

Jeongguk laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “I really just couldn’t take my eyes away from you, you looked so hypnotized by them and it was the cutest to me”.

“Is that why you thought about secretly giving me flowers?” you couldn’t help but ask.

He nodded, lowering his head. “I know it would’ve been easier to just talk to you, but I really couldn’t bring myself to do it. Fuck, I even was a nervous wreck this year when you first talked to me,” a breathy laugh escaped his mouth. “So I just… thought I could do that for a while until I got the guts to confess. Although I guess a part of me really wanted you to find out, because whilst looking for different kinds flowers I came across tiger lilies and, apart from finding out they were my birth flower, their meaning just fit so well with what I wanted to do and I just—”

“What do they mean?” you asked.

“It’s cheesy” he let you know with pleading eyes, silently asking you not to make him say it out loud. “Like, really cheesy”.

“Come on,” you begged with pouty lips, getting a hold of his hands. “I’ll look it up on the internet either way if you don’t tell me”.

He shook his head in both amusement and embarrassment altogether, knowing well enough you would do just that if he did not comply right then. So, biting down on his bottom lip, he said: “Please, love me”.

Your eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. “Huh?”

“They mean ‘please, love me’” he clarified at the sight of your puzzled face, and your heart skipped a beat as you froze in your place. “I told you it was cheesy”.

“No, no, it’s not that. I just… is that what…” you pressed your lips together as you tried to compose yourself. “Did you… do you mean that?” it was now his turn to look confused, tilting his head to the side because of it. “You want me to love you?”

And although to you it seemed like a complicated question to answer, to him, on the other hand, it wasn’t. So, nodding his head immediately, he let you know that was exactly what he wanted.

“Back then, even when we were teenagers and barely ever talked, and I knew nothing about love, I was convinced I was in love with you… even if I knew it was one sided. And now that I got to be your friend and then your boyfriend, I…” he took in a deep breath, staring down to your hands in his before his eyes went back to yours. “I know more than ever that I love you. I love you so much, Y/N. And I know loving someone takes time, and I don’t want to push you or rush you at all, but if you could just try and find it in you to love me back someday, I—”

The small chuckle that abandoned your lips caused his mouth to shut close in an instant, not understanding what was so funny about his words and for a split second there feeling uneasy. However, all his worries went away when you cupped his face in your hands, staring at his lips for a brief second before your eyes went up to fix on his.

“I already love you, you dummy”.

Not giving him time to process your truthful words, if anything, knowing it would take him a while to do so, you leaned in to steal a small kiss from his lips, pecking them ever so tenderly a couple of times until he smiled, finally understanding the meaning of your words and placing his hands on the back of your neck to keep you from pulling away as he sucked on your bottom lip.

“Say it again?” he pleaded in between kisses, not being able to erase the huge smile on his face.

You chuckled teasingly. “Nope”.

“Yah,” he let go fully of your mouth. “You’re always speaking nonstop and now that I for once ask you to say something, you won’t?”

“Exactly” you smiled brightly, giggling when he squinted his eyes at you and leaning in to peck his mouth a couple more times. “I love you, bun” you cooed, being done with your teasing way earlier than you had planned to.

And it was the way you loved him back, along with the way you had gone back to call him that pet name he was the softest about, what had him giving you one of those bunny smiles of his that made you come up with that name to begin with.

“You won’t say it back?” you wondered, batting your lashes for him to take a hint.

Nevertheless, he shook his head no. “I already said it twice, we’re even”.

“Yah!” you lightly shoved him off, only to have him standing right back in between your legs like he had been during your entire conversation. “Jeongguk-ah~”

“Yes, baby?” he played innocent.

“Tell me you love me” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest.

Letting out a light laugh, he cupped your face and gave your mouth a chaste kiss. “I love you, petal”.

You smiled sweetly, allowing him to plant a few more kisses on your mouth before you pressed your lips to the spot under his jawline, resting your face on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you once more.

“You should’ve confessed back then” you lamented, looking up to his face yet only being met by the sight of his chin. “Why didn’t you?”

He sighed, resting his chin on the top of your head and tightening the hold of his arms around your waist.

There it was, the most important question out of them all. The one he had came here to talk about, yet he had completely forgotten about as he had gotten caught up on making up with you instead. And now that things were finally good between you two, he couldn’t help but fear bringing up said person and what she had done would make things worse all over again.

“I was going to” he let you know. “That was the plan all along”.

Your eyebrows knitted together, sitting up so you could fix your questioning eyes on his troubled expression. “Then why didn’t you?” you repeated your previous question.

He sighed heavily, causing your body to tense up, as you knew right then you wouldn’t like what he was about to tell you. “Sooyeon…”

“What?” you pushed it when he stopped right after mentioning her name. “What did she do?!”

He bit the inside of his cheek. Although he had found out about everything a few days ago and had gotten some time to come to terms with it, it still hurt just as much. All the lost time and what it could have been, all the possibilities that could’ve come with having been with you as a couple ever since your last year of high school, still made his blood boil.

“She found out I was your flower boy one morning and she told me I was wasting my time…”

“What?!” your loud tone was a mix of both worry and anger. “Jeongguk, what did she tell you?”

He shrugged, a weak smile curving up his lips. “Does it matter anymore?”

“Of course it does” you argued. “It does to me”.

Letting out another sigh, knowing well enough he could not avoid this anymore, as you deserved to know the whole story just like he did, he grabbed your hands and gently held them in his — partially wanting to let you know it was alright, partially wanting to feel like it was alright. “She said you had told her you hoped it wasn’t me because you would have to give me a chance out of pity,” the look in your eyes right then made his heart hurt. “Because I was not popular, and I barely ever talked, so you would always be bored around me yet would have to pretend like you were not…”

“Bun, I never said that. I neve—”

“I know” he cut you off before you could freak out completely. “Petal, I know that now”.

“No, but she lied!” you raised your voice for him to hear you out. “I’m never bored around you, you know that, right? And the few times we got to talk back then I was never bored either, I…”

“Baby, I know…” he soothed you, cupping your face and pressing his forehead on yours. “I know. It’s okay”.

“Guk, I had feelings for you back then” you confessed, feeling your voice break.

He took in a shaky breath. Somehow, hearing that coming from you had hurt more than finding out from someone else like he had a few days ago. “It’s okay”.

And it was. It really was. You were together now. Somehow, you had managed to find your way back to each other years later and didn’t have to know what your lives were like without each other. However, the fact that it was alright, it didn’t mean it did not hurt. Because it did hurt. Thinking you could’ve been together ever since three years ago. How you wouldn’t have dated that asshole who broke your heart, and how he wouldn’t have gone three years of his life believing he was not enough. All of that, was not something the two of you could easily let go of.

“So all this time... you really believed I had said that about you? Even when we were friends, when we became a couple…” your voice sounded more broken by the second. “You let me back into your life even when I had supposedly said all those things back then?”

“Call me delusional, but I still really wanted to be close to you” he sheepishly admitted. That’s how he knew he would always have a soft spot for you, no matter what. “And anyway, baby, in my mind that was the high school you. You didn’t seem like the person who said those things back then at all when I got to actually meet you” he reassured you, then bitterly adding: “Now I can see why”.

You breathed uneasily. “You’re too good to me…”

“Yah, Y/N” he called you out immediately. “I told you, we’re not doing this”.

“But I really don’t deserve y—”

Your words were cut off by his lips softly pressing down on yours. Just like you would always call him out whenever he thought less of himself, hating it when he did that, he, too, hated hearing you say stuff like that about yourself.

“It doesn’t matter anymore” he whispered against your lips.

“Yes, it does…” you pouted. “She lied to both of us and we believed her. We could’ve been together ever since...”

“I know…”

“Three years, Guk. We lost three fucking years” you reminded him. “What if I hadn’t asked you to be my partner in the project this year, I mean, I wouldn’t even have you in my life and all because of her”.

“I know” he couldn’t hide the bitterness in his words this time. Because he knew very well what you were feeling, for he had felt the exact same a few days ago. “But can we just… forget about it?”  

“No, I want to beat the shit out of her” your determined, poisonous tone, could do no other than earn a loud giggle from him.

“Do that later?” he pressed his lips to the crook of your neck. “She already took enough time away from us, let’s not let her get in between us anymore. We’re making up now, it’s just us two...”

It was now your turn to giggle, relaxing under his loving touch and nodding your head in agreement before you leaned in to briefly press your mouth to his jaw. “We’ll just have to catch up on all those lost years then”.

He laughed under his breath, cupping your face once more as he leaned in just enough for his lips to faintly brush yours. “I guess we’ll just have to do that”.

Enjoying the sound of that, you puckered your lips up right as his soft ones came in contact with them, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck so you could deepen the kiss. Humming contentedly when his tongue made its way inside your mouth, you felt his hands let go of your face and wander down your back, holding onto your hips to bring you even closer to the edge of the kitchen counter, at which you reacted by wrapping your legs around his hips to help him create the friction between your bodies he was asking for.

You found yourself letting go of his neck to dig your hands inside his sweatshirt instead, smiling coyly at the way you felt goosebumps form on his skin. You had discovered not long ago he was quite ticklish on his sides, and you absolutely loved faintly running your hands along them just to get that reaction out of him.

He breathed heavily when your fingertips made their way up his abs, letting his hands go down lower from their current spot on your back and placing them on your ass instead, giving it a light squeeze as he took advantage on said action to grind his hips against your center.

“Mm…” you let out quietly, finding out just then how much you had missed feeling him close like that.

“You think they’ll be home soon?” he asked, referring to your two chaotic friends, as he peppered a trail of kisses down to your neck.

“They must be just getting started on drinking” you let him know, a smile curving up your lips at the sensation of his wet ones sucking on your skin. “Why? You got something in mind?”

The chuckle that left his mouth tickled your skin, feeling one last kiss being placed on it before his lips were briefly back on yours. “Only if you’re up for it”.

Your lips parted in a bright smile, without another word, shoving him lightly out of the way so you could place your feet on the ground — gently taking his hand in yours and having his adoring eyes stuck to you as you guided him over to your room.

Once inside, and as you let go of his hold so you could turn around to lock the door just in case your friends decided to come home earlier than expected, his eyes fell on the multiple tiger lilies he had left on your seat over the last two days, along with the bouquet of flowers he had sent over to your place earlier that day, all of them carefully lying on your desk by one side of the bed. Smiling at the fact that you had kept them all —as he had been worried you would’ve thrown them away when he first sent them—, he turned around towards you right as you were done with the door, cupping your face immediately and bringing his lips to meet yours in a quite needy kiss.

Walking you backwards towards the bed as he refused to break the hot contact between your mouths, he helped you lie down on it as he crawled over your figure, parting your legs open with his knee so he could lie in between them — a light laugh of his resonating against your mouth when your hands were back into his sweatshirt and the trace of your fingertips tickled his sides.

Wanting more of you as well, he found himself digging his hands inside your t-shirt just like he had grown fond of ever since that one time in his room, letting them make their way up to your breasts so he could tease them a little bit. Only, this time, he was met not by the thin fabric of your bra, but with your soft skin instead — feeling your nipples instantly harden at his sudden touch as a small hum abandoned your lips.

Not being able to hide his —very pleasant— surprise, he withdrew his lips from yours; wide eyes staring at you before they travelled down to your still covered breasts.

At his quite cute reaction, you couldn’t help but let out a giggle. “I’m wearing pyjamas, is it really that surprising?”

It shouldn’t be. He knew that very well, considering you had not once worn a bra whenever you slept over at each other’s. However, being so caught up in the moment, he had seemed to forget about that altogether.

Deciding to say nothing, he leaned down instead to trap your bottom lip in between his again, sucking lightly on it as his hands squeezed your breasts in such a way that left you wanting more in a heartbeat.

“Mm… fuck” you moaned ever so quietly when one of his thumbs teased your nipple.

Smiling at your reaction, he moved his kisses all the way down from your mouth to your collarbone, feeling your chest heavily move up and down when his mouth came close to it. Firmly placing his hands on the curve under your breasts, he lifted your body up with ease to adjust you up enough on the mattress so that your still covered breasts were now right under his face.

Not giving you a second to process what had just happened, he lowered his face to your chest, pressing open mouth kisses on the fabric that was still covering it, and getting another moan out of you when his hand went back to teasing one of your breasts under your t-shirt, while his hot mouth sucked on your other one over it.

“Guk, fuck” you gasped, feeling goosebumps form on your skin when his lips travelled down to your bellybutton and his hands abandoned your chest to tug at the end of your top instead.

Biting down on his lip, he glanced up to you before doing anything else. “Is it okay if I?”

Although his question had been left incomplete, you answered him with an eager nod of your head, wanting nothing but to feel his wet mouth on your sensitive buds already.

Tongue wetting his lips in anticipation, he lifted your t-shirt over your chest — leaving it still on yet completely exposing you to his eyes. And it was the way his eyes fixed on your naked chest like the world had just stopped, what managed to make you nervous enough to bring your arms up to cover them.

“I would’ve worn something hotter for you to look at if I had known this was going to happen” you couldn’t help but joke your way out of it.

Jeongguk laughed lightly, leaning down to peck your neck a couple of times, trying to ease your sudden nervousness. “I don’t think anything could ever top this”.

Because although he was sure getting to see you in lingerie would be one hell of a sight, he loved this view the most. He loved looking at you, with absolutely nothing on the way of your body and his eyes.

And just like that, his teasing yet genuine words were the last push you needed to relax under both his touch and stare, allowing him to gently grab your wrists and remove your arms from off your chest. Receiving a small nod from you when his questioning eyes fixed on yours for a second, he planted two short kisses to your mouth before they were back on your chest.

Your back curved up with the first lap of his tongue on one of your nipples, feeling your breathing become heavier when his lips wrapped around it without any kind of warning.

“Jeongguk…” you moaned in what sounded like a plea.

Wanting to hear more of his name coming out as one of your pretty moans, he swirled his tongue harder around your bud, right as his thumb teased the one he had left unattended until then - not many seconds going by before he moved his mouth over to it so he could tease it as well.

“Fuck,” you gasped when his mouth sucked on your skin. “Jeongguk”.

Catching on the way you had pushed your hips slightly up to try and get some friction out of his already hardened length, he found himself giving you one slow thrust that had you both moaning whilst wanting more. Instead of grinding on you again, however, he let go of your breast and let his hand wander down to your pants instead, palming your already wet core through them before he fidgeted with their waistband.

“Please,” you begged.

“Hm?” he hummed against your jaw, as he placed a sweet kiss to it before going to your lips.

“Your fingers” you managed to blurt out, feeling like you were losing your mind over the way his long fingers were now teasingly digging inside your pants. “Jeongguk, please”.

Although he found out right then that he  loved hearing you beg, he wanted the most to make you feel good, which is why he was quick to comply with your wishes. Palming you now over your damp panties, he felt your body shake at the contact — a gasp escaping your mouth when his fingers made the fabric aside and they started rubbing circle motions on your folds.

You felt warmer and way more wet than he had expected, and he felt the sudden urge to run his tongue along your folds to get a taste of your arousal. However, right then, he knew what you wanted, what you needed, were his fingers inside of you. So, he did just that.

“Ah, fuck” you threw your head harder against the mattress when one of his fingers made its way into you.

“You’re so tight...” he breathed out in amazement, feeling himself get harder at the thought of what it would be like to feel your walls tightening around his cock instead.

Slowly shifting his finger inside your responsive walls, he focused on taking in your facial expressions to try and figure out what pace you liked the most — sticking with a faster one after one particular moan had escaped your lips right after he speeded up his pistoning motions.

“Like that?” he asked nevertheless, planting a lingering kiss to your chest.

“Yes” you managed to blurt out, grinding your hips against his finger, being desperate for more.

Catching up on that, he added another digit, hissing at the way your walls had seemed to tighten even more around them. Opening and closing his fingers in scissoring motions as he tried to stretch you out so he could move around with ease, he felt your breathing become heavier by the second, letting out a choked moan when he experimented by curling his digits against your walls.

“Oh, fuck” you whimpered when he curled them once more, managing to hit with them that one spot that could make you come undone in a matter of minutes.

“Feels good?” he asked, admiring your factions as you were too immersed in your own pleasure to remember how to speak.

“Mhm…” you answered with a simple sound instead, mewling when his motions sped up their pace. “So good”.

“Fuck,” he blurted when he felt your juices running down your slit. “Baby, you’re dripping”.

“Jeongguk, don’t stop” you begged when you felt his fingers no longer moving inside of you, desperately grabbing his wrist when you felt them start to pull out. “Don’t stop”.

He reassured you with an intoxicating kiss that made you dizzy. “I wanna eat you out”.

Your breath hitched at his low words, feeling your walls tighten when you opened your eyes to meet his hungry ones. And you didn’t have to even think before you were nodding your head. You needed him, that was all you knew. No matter if it were his fingers, his mouth or his cock, you were desperate for him right then, and would let him have you however he wanted.

Kissing your lips one more time, he felt you whimper against his mouth when his fingers pulled out of you, causing you to close your legs as you tried to replace the way they felt with the friction your thighs could provide you with. It didn’t last long, though, for Jeongguk was quick to pull them open once more so he could remove your pyjama pants along with your panties, licking his lips in anticipation at the perfect sight he got of your dripping folds.

“Fuck, you’re so hot” he rasped, causing your cheeks to burn and another whimper escape your mouth when his thumb brushed faintly over your clit.

“Jeongguk, please” begging seemed to be your only way of communication that night, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the hell out of it.

Pulling you closer to him, he placed your thighs over his shoulders before he finally brought his face up to your heat. Worrying for a split second there, as he was not entirely sure as to what was the right way to do this, he decided to go with his instinct —just like he had done seconds ago when his fingers were inside of you— and begin by slowly sliding his tongue through your folds. The way your body had trembled and a moan of yours had reached his ears as soon as he did, let him know he was doing well.

Delving his tongue in your slit, you instinctively reacted by pulling your hips slightly away from him at the pleasure his ministrations were giving you, and Jeongguk didn’t hesitate before grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to his mouth once more, sucking on your wet heat before he pushed his tongue inside.

“Oh, God” you whimpered when he started fucking you with his tongue. “J-Jeongguk, yes”.

Moaning loudly when he pushed a finger back into you, you grabbed onto one of your breasts with one hand, as your other one travelled down to entangle your fingers in his already messy hair, earning a muffled moan from him when you pulled lightly at it.

Curling his finger inside you the way he had found out drove you crazy, his mouth let go of your heat, planting a small kiss on it before he licked his way up your folds and stopped by your clit. Although he was not experienced in all this at all, he did know stimulating that small button of yours could work wonders, and he was willing to give it a try. The second he swirled his tongue around it and you cried out in pleasure, he knew it wouldn’t take much longer before you reached your climax if he kept applying pressure on that particular spot.

Tightening his hold on one of your thighs to keep you from moving away as your body writhed beneath him, he added a second finger inside you, sucking on your clit before his tongue came in contact with it again.

“Mm—ah, Jeongguk. Fuck” you cried incoherently, curling your toes as you felt your climax getting closer. “Fuck, d-don’t stop”.

Feeling your walls tighten around his fingers, he could tell as well that you were close. Pushing his digits deeper into you, he managed to hit once more that one spot you needed him the most.

“Right there” you let him know, curving your back when he followed your words and his fingers brushed over it once more. “Oh, righ—fuck!” you whimpered.

“Let go, baby” he rasped, replacing his mouth on your clit with his thumb and pressing down on it in circle motions. “Cum for me”.

The mere sound of that, along with the way his mouth had came in contact with your folds as his fingers kept fucking into you, were all you needed to finally come undone under his touch, crying out his name one last time as his fingers helped you ride out your orgasm.

Closing your eyes and letting the aftershocks take over your body, you moaned lightly at the feel of your boyfriend’s tongue running along your slit, tasting the juices that were dripping down on it and licking you clean before he made his way back next to you, hovering over your figure and kissing you hungrily yet somehow gently. One of his thumbs caressed your hip as his other one came in contact with your chin, drawing circular motions on your skin as you kissed him back — eyes still closed as you felt your body finally steadying.

“Was that alright?” he asked, planting a lingering kiss to your mouth.

Opening your eyes, you looked at him with disbelief written all over them. “It was amazing” you reassured him with a smile nevertheless, allowing his mouth to come in contact with yours once more.

Pulling him closer by wrapping one arm around his neck, you felt something hard poke one of your sides, causing you to undo the kiss and stare down to the outline of his hardened member against the loose fabric of his pants.

“Want me to help you with that again?” you teasingly raised one of your eyebrows, earning a small lip bite from him at the memories of how good you had made him feel not too long ago.

Although it took him a second, he nodded his head. A smile curved up the corners of your lips at that, only for it to be replaced with a frown when his hand stopped you from reaching for his cock.

“Not like that” he shook his head.

You pouted in confusion. “Then how…”

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he leaned down to brush his mouth with yours. “I want to fuck you”.

You felt a wave of heat hit your body at his words, for although he had just seen and touched pretty much all of you, and you had just offered to suck him off, you had thought that would be as far as you’d get, just like that one time in his room when it had led to nothing else.

“W-What?” your voice betrayed you by stuttering a bit.

“I want to fuck you” he repeated, sounding just as determined as he had before. “You don’t want to?”

“No, I want to!” you were quick to clarify. Fuck, you wanted to. “It’s just… You sure you want this? With me?”

“I’ve wanted to have you like this for so long, Y/N. I could not be any more sure” his words sent shivers up your spine. “Besides, sorry to remind you, petal, but you are my girlfriend, so…”

“That I am, huh?” you played along, pulling him down by the neck of his sweatshirt so your lips could meet his. “Then I guess I’ll be good to you tonight and let you have your way with me”.

Smiling contentedly at your words, he wasted no time in crashing his mouth on yours, burying one of his hands under your t-shirt to give one of your breasts a tight squeeze before he tugged at the end of the fabric — eyebrows furrowing slightly and puzzled eyes opening when you held your top down by pressing your arms to your sides, not allowing him to pull it up so he could take it off.

“Wha—”

“It’s unfair you’re about to leave me naked while you’re still fully dressed, don’t you think?” you pointed out with pouty lips.

Rolling his eyes in amusement, he sat up on the mattress so he could take his sweatshirt off, being followed by you right after, as you helped him get rid of it with a smile on your face. Now, you had seen him shirtless once, when you were having food in his room one evening and he stained his t-shirt with soda, proceeding to change into another one right in front of you, but you had seen little to nothing of his torso, as he had turned almost fully around as he did so. And hence now, you could not hide the hungry look on your face as you stared at his toned chest.

“My eyes are up here” he teased you with an amused smile, causing you to send a playful glare his way.

“You didn’t exactly look into my eyes either when you pulled my t-shirt up, so…”

He chuckled at your snarky remark, leaning in to connect his mouth with yours and then tugging once more at the end of your top, just like he had done a minute before. This time, however, you pulled your arms up, letting go of his mouth so he could get rid of that one last piece of clothing of yours that was bothering him so much.

Not wasting any more time, you helped him out of the rest of his clothes as well, giggling against his lips when they needingly crashed on yours once more, with one swift movement lying you down on the mattress as your curious, wandering hands became familiar with each other’s bodies.

A raspy moan escaped Jeongguk’s throat when your hand stroked his member, being followed by a choked one when you tightly wrapped your hand around it, gently moving it up and down his length.

“Fuck, Y/N” he breathed heavily, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he unconsciously thrusted into your hand. “I need you”.

You smiled at the sound of his begging words, leaving a small kiss on his naked shoulder before you released his member from your hold and pushed him on his back, letting him adjust into a more comfortable position as he rested his back against the headboard, before you sunk your knees down on the mattress on each side of his lap — his hands immediately resting on the curve of your waist and a shaky breath coming out of his mouth at the feel of your wet core rubbing ever so faintly against his cock.

“You sure you want this?” you asked.

He eagerly nodded his head, pulling you back to meet his swollen lips. “I want you so bad”.

Feeling a wave of heat rushing through your body at that, you nodded your head, pecking his lips one more time before you reached for your nightstand, opening its small drawer and taking a condom out of it. Going back to your boyfriend, you were met with his rather taken aback expression.

“You knew this was going to happen or…” he questioned with a raised brow and a teasing smile.

You shook your head as a shy smile curved up your lips. “The two idiots I live with filled my drawer with them when we started staying over at each other’s regularly” you explained with a roll of eyes. “They also left a box full of them in my closet”.

Jeongguk laughed wholeheartedly at that. “Well, that’s good to hear. They will come in handy”.

Laughing along with him at his joyful remark, you opened the small envelope in your hands, pulling slightly back so you were no longer hovering over his member and could slide the condom on it with ease — feeling Jeongguk’s breath hitch at both the unfamiliar feel of the thin latex around his length, and the familiar one of your hands on it. Staring back at him once you were done, you stole a sweet kiss from his lips, hearing him moan against your mouth when your hand was once more wrapped around his cock, pumping it a couple more times as you aligned it with your entrance.

And then, locking eyes with him for a second, you kissed him slowly. As slowly as you had started to sink down on him.

Letting go of the kiss as he involuntarily tilted his head back, Jeongguk let out a loud moan, immediately getting lost into what was without a doubt the most pleasure he had ever felt. And he knew right away that your warm, wet walls wrapping tightly around his member, was something he could easily become addicted to.

Staring lovingly at the way his eyes remained closed and his mouth slightly open, you couldn’t help but moan as well as you pushed down lower on him, feeling your walls stretching as you tried to take his entire length.

“Fuck” he rasped when he was completely inside of you.

Tightening his hold on your hips, he pulled you slightly closer to him on his lap, not being able to hold back a blissful chuckle at the way the friction he had just created made him feel.

“What is it?” you wondered with a smile of your own when he leaned in to rest his forehead on your shoulder.

“It feels so good” he let you know with another chuckle.

Joining him on his sudden outburst of joy, you let out a light laugh just as he pressed an open mouth kiss to your shoulder, loving to be the one who got to share this moment with him — to be the one he wanted to share this moment with. Pressing a small kiss to the top of his head, you placed two fingers under his chin to push it up and have him look at you. Once he did, you leaned in to steal a lingering kiss.

“I love you” you said for the third time that night.

He smiled brightly, bringing his lips up to yours and locking them in a slow kiss. “I love you more”.

Opening your mouth to fight him on that, what came out of it instead was a choked moan after he pulled your hips down on his cock.

“Jeongguk, fuck” you let your forehead fall to his shoulder when he pushed his hips up to yours.

Slowly rolling your hips, you met him right as he thrusted up on you once more, causing a small moan to make its way out of his mouth. “Mm… baby…”

With his hands firmly grabbing your hips, you let him guide the pace as you rode him, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your forehead on his as the two of you grew used to the rhythm he was leading. Closing your eyes, you let your heavy breathings mix as they were now, along with a few moans here and there, the only sound filling your silent bedroom.

“O-Oh, fuck” you gasped when he pulled you down harder on him, somehow managing to push deeper inside of you.

You leaned slightly back when he repeated said action, tilting your head back as well and then humming quietly when you felt his warm lips wrap around one of your breasts, slowly sucking on your nipple, as you had just given him the perfect opportunity to do just that, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and pulling you closer to him as you kept rolling your hips at the same pace he had created for you before.

“Mh—ah! Fuck” he moaned when you pushed your legs up, enough for only half of his cock to be inside of you, to later take it all in again. “Y/N…”

Doing it again, you couldn’t stop the whimper that had just abandoned your mouth as his length had managed to reach that soft spot of yours. Needing more of him, you sped up the pace of your grinding against his hips, feeling him finally let go of your sensitive bud to let his sweaty forehead rest in the crook of your neck as his moans became louder by the second.

“Wait, wait” he demanded breathily, placing his hands on your hips and firmly holding them down so you would stop moving. “Stop”.

“What’s wrong?” you worried, doing as told in a heartbeat.

He shook his head no, quietly letting you know nothing was really wrong, as he buried his face deeper in the crook of your neck and closed his eyes while he tried his best to catch his breath. “Feels too good” he admitted in a raspy voice. “Don’t wanna cum yet”.

You giggled under your breath, finding silent joy on the fact that he hadn’t asked you to stop because he wasn’t enjoying what you were doing, but because he was liking it too much.

Lowering your head to his shoulder, you planted a small kiss on it. “You can cum if you want” you let him know, pressing another soothing kiss to the crook of his neck. “I understand”.

He shook his head no, letting out a heavy sigh as his thumbs drew tender circles on your skin. Maybe it was his ego, or just the fact that he really wanted to make you feel good too, maybe both, what made him refuse to let himself go right then, no matter how bad he wanted to. No matter how hard it was not to.

Smiling sweetly at him, you brought one of your hands up to his damp hair while your other one caressed his back, entangling your fingers in his dark locks as you waited for him to come down from the high he had been about to reach. Letting out a sigh when he felt like he could finally breathe again, he placed his hands on your back to pull you closer — lips looking for yours when your naked chest pressed on his.

Kissing him hard, you opened your mouth for his tongue to meet yours after it had traced your bottom lip, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and trying your best not to roll your hips like you were dying to. Although you didn’t have to hold back for much longer, for with one last kiss and with his warm hands still holding you down on his cock, he pushed it deeper inside of you.

“Fuck” you gasped at the sudden stimulation, taking it as your cue to start moving as well.

“F—Y/N” he moaned when your hips met his in the middle, as they pushed into you once more.

Helping you lead the pace once again, he held you by the waist, digging his fingers into your hot skin and deciding right there, as you moaned his name and your walls tightened around his cock, that he wanted to take over from then on. So, with a swift movement, you were now under him as he laid your back on the mattress — a light moan escaping your lips when he pulled out of you to make you more comfortable on the bed, immediately becoming whiny as you missed his whole length inside of you.

“No, don’t stop fucking me” you pouted, breath hitching when he grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to where he was sitting down on the mattress. “Jeongguk, please”.

He smiled at both the sound and sight of you right then, really enjoying them one hell of a lot. It was your messy hair, swollen lips and naked chest that moved up and down as you breathed heavily, along with the neediness in your voice as you were begging for him once more, what made it easy for him to decide he liked being in control.

Catching your bottom lip in his mouth as he adjusted himself in between your legs, he heard you beg one more time against his lips. However, just as you did, he felt one of your hands desperately go down to your center so you could feel something inside of you. Only you didn’t get to, for his hand grabbed your wrist right before your fingers could find their way inside, managing to grab your other one as well and pin them over your head as he pushed his hips down enough for the head of his cock to align with your wet center.

“I’m the one fucking you tonight, petal”.

You moaned at the sound of his words being murmured against your neck — the way such sweet pet name had been said with such a lustful tone right then, making you somehow even more needy for him.

“Please,” you breathed out, overwhelmed by the way his mouth teased the sensitive skin of your neck and he rubbed his cock against your core, not quite pushing into you yet. “Jeongguk, please. I need you”.

“What was that?” he wondered teasingly.

“I need you” you repeated. “Jeongguk, please. Please fuck m—ah!” your head was thrown back in pleasure when he slammed his entire length into you, just the way you were so badly begging for.

Hungrily kissing your mouth, he muffled the moans that came out of it with each thrust of his hips — letting go of your lips as a low groan made its way out of his throat when your walls wrapped tighter than he had felt them do that evening, as you were getting closer to reach your high.

Letting his forehead fall to your shoulder, he muffled a cry against your skin as you wrapped your legs around his waist and your walls tightened once more against his cock, knowing right then he wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

“Harder” you pleaded breathily, arching your back as he wasted no time in complying. “F-Fuck, Jeongguk. Ah!”

“Y/N” he rasped your name, feeling his inevitable release about to hit. “Fuck, I’m g-gonna cum”.

Not being able to form any kind of coherent sentence right then, you settled for an eager nod of your head to let him know it was okay. Digging your nails on the wet skin of his back, you scratched your way down on it when he once again managed to find that one soft spot of yours that had you crying out in a second.

“Right there,” you desperately let him know, feeling your legs start to give up when he kept hitting it with each of his thrusts. “Fuck, right there”.

“A-Ah, Y/N, I’m—” he stumbled upon his own words, not being able to hold on anymore given how much tighter you were getting now around him. “Mm… I’m gon—ah!”

Groaning one last time, he let himself go like he had fought so hard not to — your pulsating walls around his cock finally driving him over the edge.

Although overwhelmed by the intense wave of pleasure running through his body, beginning to feel dizzy even, he did not slump down on you to catch his breath like he so badly needed to. Instead, he kept riding his own orgasm — his thrusts becoming sloppier yet rougher as he greedily tried to drive you over the edge, too.

And it was only a matter of seconds before you did.

“J-Jeongguk, I’m—ahh!” you cried out one last time, feeling your shaky legs give up as you came undone beneath him.

Helping you ride out your orgasm as well, Jeongguk whimpered at the overstimulation, finally letting his body slump down on yours and burying his face on your neck, as he felt his body tremble with each spasm of your walls around him. Feeling his hot, heavy breath hit your sweaty neck as the two of you desperately tried to catch your breath, you entangled once more your fingers on the hair at the back of his head — fingertips ever so tenderly moving in circular motions in a soothing way.

Closing your eyes for a couple of seconds, you felt his thumb caress one of your sides, later having you opening your eyes when he pressed two brief kisses to the crook of your neck and a breathy laugh of his was soon to follow right after.

“What’s so amusing?” you wondered, feeling the corners of your mouth curve up when another chuckle of his reached your ears.

“That was amazing” he confessed, causing your face to burn as your smile grew wider. Pressing one of his arms down on the mattress, he held his body up so he could lock his eyes with yours. “Was it okay for you?”

You bit your bottom lip, shyly looking away for a split second before your eyes focused back on his. “Jeon Jeongguk,” you called his name in a serious tone.

“Hm?”

“You made me cum twice” you reminded him, loving the sight of his already flushed cheeks turning even more pink than they already were. “I think that speaks for itself”.

He let out a shy laugh, tilting your chin up as he brought his lips down to yours and kissing you sweetly for a good couple of seconds, later moving his lips over to press an open mouth kiss to your cheek before he finally pulled out of you. Removing the condom from his member, he crawled to the edge of the bed and reached for the small bin you kept under your desk next to your bed, bringing it closer to him and throwing the used latex into it before he went back to lie on his stomach next to you — blissfully letting you kiss his lips once more like you had just reached up to.

“I’ll get better at it” he promised, earning a quiet giggle from you.

“Well, we do have three years to make up for, so I guess we’ll both get a lot of practice” you pointed out coyly.

“And we don’t have to worry about running out of condoms anytime soon” he reminded you, amusement clear in his voice.

Throwing your head back on the mattress, you allowed a throaty laugh to escape your mouth, later looking back at him and bringing your hand up to cup one of his cheeks. Gently caressing it a couple of times, you puckered your lips up for him to come closer and cut the space between your mouth — smiling softly when he complied in a heartbeat, slowly sucking on your bottom lip.

“I love you” he mumbled on your lips, loving the way he was finally able to say it freely, knowing you felt the same, like he had been aching you to all along.

“I love you more” you repeated his previous answer with a smile.

Kissing your lips chastely, he shook his head no, tilting his head towards the flowers that were taking over your desk. “Those are proof that I love you more”.

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Those are proof that you’ve loved me for longer, it’s got nothing to do with the amount of it”.

“Mhm…” he nodded his head, letting you know with both the tone of his voice and the look on his eyes that you were not convincing him. “Whatever works for you, petal” his lips turned into a smile as he let his back slump down on the bed.

“Yah,” you gently shoved him off, feeling your heart skip a beat when you heard him laugh.

Pulling you to his chest by wrapping an arm around you, he planted a kiss to your forehead. Although you had sighed contentedly after resting your face on his chest, he didn’t miss the way your mind was quite absent right then.

“What’s wrong?” his eyebrows knitted together, growing somewhat more confused after following with his eyes to where yours were staring at and having them fall on the flowers.

“Nothing” you smiled, unconsciously running your fingers along his chest. “I just wish these particular ones would last forever”.

Smiling as he adoringly stared at you, he hugged you closer to his body. “I can get you all the flowers you want”.

At that, your head snapped up so you could lock eyes with him. The mischievous smile that had just formed on your mouth as you cockily raised one of your eyebrows, letting him know right away he was about to regret what he had just said. “You’ll be like my flower daddy then?”

Yup, there it was, the regret.

“Anddd, you ruined it” he lamented.

Letting his head fall back down on the mattress, he closed his eyes as he tried his best to fight the smile that was threatening with taking over his face, knowing he would fail miserably at it when he heard you chuckle next to him — finally giving in to it and laughing as well as you peppered open mouth kisses around his face.

Although popular, loud, chaotic, bubbly, impulsive as hell, and just the complete opposite to what he was, he could not be any happier it was you the one his heart had chosen to fall irretrievably in love with.

[gukyi]

the love project | jjk

summary: from running to mcdonald’s at 3am after a halloween party where the two of you dressed up as the teletubbies to timing how long it takes for him to drink a cup of monster mixed with mountain dew and iced coffee and then do fifty push-ups, you’re used to your best friend jungkook asking you to do all sorts of crazy things. but, of all the shit the two of you do, letting him follow you around for a week with a camera and take candid photos of you for a photography assignment might just be the craziest of them all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 12k warnings: college antics, hopeless pining, slow burn a/n: me: this fic will be 10k max! also me: actually nevermind on par for the course of this blog, i hope you enjoy this fic! it was so much fun to write and it definitely got me back into the ~writing mood~. more fics coming soon!

These days, the weeks pass you by like trains on a platform. They whiz past you, the only discernible features being the beginning and the end of them, with the middle nothing but a blur. 

At least, that’s how it feels when you’re in college, and the days bleed into weeks bleed into months, and suddenly you’re one year closer to graduating, one year closer to figuring out what next to do with your life, even if you’re still missing that one general education requirement you forgot to take in your first year so now you’re trying to cram it into your schedule at the last minute.

Okay, you’ll admit it. Introduction to Astronomy is kicking your ass. That’s what you get for putting it off until junior year, when you’re supposed to have reached the point in your History major career where you don’t have to look at numbers anymore and the idea of doing basic math is absolutely unfathomable. History majors don’t do math. They just don’t. It vanished from your academic arsenal long before now, alongside your ability to interpret word problems and understand science textbooks. 

Perhaps in another universe, you would have actually retained those skills past high school, but that universe is not this one, and so your problem sets can solve themselves or not be solved at all. 

Your best friend would have to disagree.

“It’s not even calculus!” Jungkook exclaims over a mouthful of a Starbucks tomato and pesto panini, pointing to your laptop in exasperation, as if the answer has been staring you in the face for the past fifteen minutes. “It’s just algebra! All you’re doing is plugging the numbers into the formula and finding the missing variable!”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff, furiously erasing at the notebook in front of you as you get yet another incorrect answer. Who knew math could be so difficult? Oh, that’s right. You did. “You took that advanced differential equations class for fun last year. It’s not even required for your major. You’re just a masochist.”

“Says the person who convinced their advisor to let them take seven classes because they, and I quote, ‘all seemed so interesting’ and you ‘didn’t want to miss out.’” Jungkook rebukes pointedly. “Because your life would be so terrible if you didn’t take Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe.”

He’s got you there. Seven classes is a lot. In your defense, Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe was very interesting and you got a 4.0 that semester. So who is he to judge? Jungkook’s favorite pastime is pretending that taking three different computer science classes in a single semester isn’t going to single-handedly kill him.

Jungkook watches you struggle for a few moments more before he sighs, like he can’t take looking at someone so mathematically incompetent any longer. He stuffs the remaining third of his Starbucks panini into his mouth all at once like the ravenous beast he is before he reaches over the tiny table you’re sat at to look at your problem set himself. He turns your laptop towards him and grabs hold of your notebook, furrowing his eyebrows as he enters Work Jungkook Mode. 

Work Jungkook Mode is the mode of him you see most often during finals week or the rare occasions where you meet up to actually try and get work done. Work Jungkook has tunnel vision for whatever assignment is currently in front of him, which he will do either in one sitting or die trying. Work Jungkook lets his coffee get cold and forgets to answer your text messages, even when you’re sat right across from him and you know that he can see the notification on his laptop. Work Jungkook refuses to turn in anything that he hasn’t devoted his entire being to, even if it’s something as simple as a discussion board post. Some of his other friends say that when Jungkook is in Work Jungkook Mode, they won’t even try to contact him, lest their messages get lost in the flurry of his coding assignments. 

But you are not “some of his other friends.” You are his best friend. So rules do not apply to you. And Jungkook has long accepted that fact.

“Hey, don’t mess up my work—” You exclaim defensively, grabby hands reaching over the table to retrieve your notebook. “Wait, how did you do that?”

Jungkook scribbles something down in nearly-illegible font, determined to solve the problem in front of him. He thinks for a few more seconds before eventually jotting down an answer, circling it with his pencil. Holding the notebook out so both of you can see, he scoots his chair over to your side of the table, your shoulders pressed together in this tiny corner of the Starbucks, right by the bathroom, and explains, step by step, what he did. 

He does that for the following two problems in your set, walking you through the kind of math he was doing in freshman year of high school like it’s nothing, answering all of your stupid questions and giving you tips on how to finesse the system by taking as many shortcuts as possible. Teaching you things you never learned, or possibly had just forgotten. Things that a professor would think is idiotic to re-teach to a junior in university. Things that Jungkook wants you to know because he just wants you to have a little more faith in yourself. 

“Does that help?” He asks when he’s finished, still doubting his fantastic teaching abilities despite the fact that he just taught you more in the last thirty minutes than your professor has managed in a month and a half. 

“It actually does,” you tell him, pleasantly surprised. Looking back down at your notebook, what was once a shapeless blur of numbers, letters, and formulas is suddenly a clear and organized outline of each and every step to follow. “I didn’t know it was that easy.”

“Anything can be easy if you just commit yourself to learning how to do it,” Jungkook says, one of those random sentences that are too wise for a college student surviving off of RedBull and Starbucks food, the ones that always make you think Jungkook is secretly an immortal sage with life experiences far beyond your own. “Except coding. Which is hard no matter how good you are at it.”

“Aw, you can do it,” you rally, reaching up to pinch his chin in between your fingers and squeeze it tight. “It’s also too late to change your major now, so you’re stuck.”

“Wow, thanks for the encouragement,” Jungkook chides, hand coming up to rub at where you held his jaw, rolling his eyes. “You should let me help you with your Astronomy work more often. Gives me a break from Python.”

“I would have made you help me whether you liked it or not,” you tell him pointedly, because he is your best friend and he doesn’t get out of things as easily as he thinks he can. “But thanks. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

“Of course,” Jungkook says with a good-natured grin, always so selfless and kind and giving. He practically signed himself up for a semester’s worth of TA-ing for Introduction to Astronomy despite the constant mountain of work he has himself. Just because it’s you. 

“My very own personal genius,” you muse, wrapping your hands around his arm and snuggling into his body, a whisper of a language only the two of you share. It’s something the two of you have long gotten used to, pressing your fingers all over each other’s bodies like it’s second nature. One of the things that makes you feel so certain about having Jungkook in your life. About wanting him to stay with you for the rest of time. “I’m never letting you go.”

Jungkook smiles, a warm hand coming to rest atop of your own. He breathes, in and out, chest rising beneath your touch. “Like I’d ever let you,” he says.

There is no question about it. Jungkook is one hundred percent, absolutely, undoubtedly, positively, indisputably smarter than you are. It’s something that the two of you used to jokingly fight about (because Jungkook claims that he’s a bad essay writer, even though he’s not), but at this point it’s cemented in stone—he’s a damn genius. A genius who is inexplicably good at everything. A double threat. Triple, if you count the fact that he’s built beyond belief and could probably chuck you into next week if you really, really ticked him off. 

The truth is that, ninety percent of the time it is you who is going to Jungkook for help. Whether it be an assignment you need assistance on (namely Astronomy, because Jungkook probably couldn’t help you on your Mesopotamian artifact and primary source analyses despite his best intentions), a date that was a lot worse than you were hoping it would be, or even just the right coffee to order from that expensive place on the corner. Jungkook knows how to fix everything. 

So when Jungkook slides into the seat across from you in the food court after his Mastering Photography class with that I’m in trouble look on his face, you know something is horribly wrong. 

“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned as you watch him devour the sushi takeout in front of him, stuffing the spicy tuna rolls into his mouth like they’re Skittles. His camera hangs haphazardly out of his open backpack, like he barely had enough time to stuff it into the pocket while he was making his way here. There’s a worried expression written all over his face as he fumbles with the chopsticks in his hand, losing his grip on them every ten seconds. 

It’s not until Jungkook has finished the container of spicy tuna rolls in front of them that he finally seems to work up the courage to answer you. 

“My Photography class is gonna be the death of me,” Jungkook exclaims, exasperated. 

“I thought you liked it,” you comment unhelpfully. Jungkook had been so excited to be enrolled in it, because you needed a recommendation from a different professor and you had to submit a portfolio in order to join the class, making it one of those exclusive (and thus, much better) courses. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook is basically already a professional photographer if his Instagram is anything to go by. He’s going to walk out of university with a Photography minor whether he realizes it or not.

“I do,” Jungkook insists, even if right now it sounds like the two of you both need convincing of that fact. “But this project is ridiculous. I don’t even know how my professor expects us to have the time to finish it.”

“What do you have to do?”

Jungkook sighs. Just thinking about it seems to stress him out. “I mean, it’s only really a week long. So I guess it’s not too bad. But we’re supposed to compile a portfolio of the same subject, taken over the course of the week, with them in all sorts of different poses and lighting and locations, to express a personal theme.”

You scrunch your nose up in confusion. “I might be wrong, but isn’t that what photography… is?” You ask cluelessly. 

“Yes,” Jungkook argues, “but also no. Photography is taking pictures of things just for the hell of it. Not because they necessarily speak to a part of your soul. You just like the look of it. You want to capture the scene. That’s it.”

“Oh,” You say dumbly. 

“And our subject can be whoever or whatever we want, but he recommended choosing a person because taking pictures of our water bottles in different places is boring,” Jungkook huffs, though his professor does have a point there. Modern history wasn’t made out of photographs of store windows and miscellaneous items. It was made out of people, out of events in their lives that shaped the rest of the world, out of personal experiences that changed their point of view. “But I don’t even know anybody who would be willing to let me photograph them for a whole week! I’d basically have to follow them around like paparazzi!”

“I’ll do it,” you suggest casually, because it seems like the most obvious choice to you. There’s no one Jungkook spends as much time with as you. 

Jungkook’s eyes pop out of his head. “What?”

“I’m serious,” you insist. “Think about it. You need a subject for your project that you can photograph in a wide variety of places and over the course of a week. Who else do you spend that much time with, other than me?”

“Well..” Jungkook begins, trying to fight your reasons with his own. “Would you even be comfortable with something like that? I mean, I’m literally going to constantly be taking photos of you.”

“Like we don’t already do that on our phones,” you tease, having amassed quite the album of terrible Jungkook pictures over the years. 

“A camera is different from a phone,” Jungkook protests weakly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m just saying. It won’t bother me,” you say with a shrug. Why is Jungkook being so… weird about your suggestion? You thought he would be jumping at the offer, especially considering it means he won’t have to go out of his way to find and photograph someone else for this assignment. But he’s being rather hesitant. You watch as he glares down at his empty sushi takeout box, eyebrows furrowed in that thick, nervous way. “But you don’t have to,” you backtrack. “It was just a suggestion.”

He breathes in and breathes out, expression solid. Even from here you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, placing each and every potential result into a pro and con list inside his mind, trying to work out whether the benefits will be greater than the cost. 

Quite frankly, you don’t know what all the holdup is about. 

“You’re… sure about this?” He asks, looking up at you, determined to ensure your comfort. As if that’s even an issue. “You’re cool with being photographed and everything?”

“Only because it’s you,” you tease lightheartedly, expecting some sort of equally cheesy response. Instead, it makes Jungkook do something weird. He freezes in place, darting his eyes away from your gaze for a split second, collecting thoughts you can’t see. “Yeah,” you say loudly, trying to bring him back. “I’m fine with it.”

He inhales, exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them. “Okay then. I guess it’s settled. You’ll be my subject,” he declares, an almost unnoticeable wobble to his voice. It’s probably nothing, so you don’t think too hard about it.

“Can you at least pretend to be a little more excited about this?” You ask, jabbing him in the chest with a wooden chopstick. “It’s the first time we’ve ever gotten to be part of a project together!”

“Yay,” Jungkook says, lifeless. 

“How about a photo to commemorate it?” You suggest, reaching over to pull the camera out of his backpack, pushing it into his hands. “This can be the start of your portfolio.”

“Fine,” he eventually caves, bringing it up to his eye as he turns it on, twisting the lens to perfect the focus. Even caught off guard like this, he looks like a professional, like someone who was born to be behind the camera. He’s a computer science major but you know that photography will always be something special to him.

You strike a dramatic pose, holding your chopsticks out, one in each hand, with a wide, excited smile on your face. “How do I look?” You ask, scrunching your eyes together. 

Jungkook’s finger hovers over the silver button. “Perfect,” he tells you, voice soft and honest. 

Click.

“So, how many photos are you supposed to take for this portfolio?” You ask as you flop around on Jungkook’s bed, pretending that the open tab on your laptop with your fifty-page reading doesn’t exist. You don’t even know why professors assign readings that long. Do they really expect you to read all of it?

From across his room, you can make out the top of Jungkook’s fluffy brown hair over his sleek gaming chair, one of the ones that look like high-tech airplane seats. “I don’t know,” he says. “He said at least twenty. And no more than fifty. Which really makes me wonder if someone once submitted like, one hundred photos for this project that he had to grade them on. But yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say. When you’re around a cute animal, you can easily take twenty photographs. Granted, they aren’t exactly award-worthy photographs, but it’s not a physically demanding task. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “Hypothetically you could finish it in a day. But it looks really obvious.”

“Well, how many do you have now?”

It’s been a day and a half since Jungkook agreed to let you be his so-called muse, but already you’ve lost track of how many photos he’s taken of you. He loves his camera, you know that, but you didn’t realize exactly how much he loves his camera. And with you as the sole subject for his project, he’s practically letting it hang from his neck all day long, just waiting for the right time to snap a photo of you standing in line at the food court, frowning at your textbook, or waiting to meet up with him. Every time he sees you he snaps a picture, even if the lighting’s bad, even if you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, even if it’s midnight and you look like a zombie. In his mind, there are no bad pictures. Just memories.

You wonder what the hell he sees in you. 

“A lot,” Jungkook answers unhelpfully, making no effort to elaborate on that statement. 

“Have you counted?” You ask, getting off of his bed to join him at his desk. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize what you’re doing until you’re standing right next to him, placing a hand over his shoulders as you lean down next to him. He fumbles around for a second, the mouse slipping through his grip, and you catch a glimpse of one of the photos he’s taken of you, a sliver of your pursed lips, the wrinkles between your eyebrows. 

It’s from the library yesterday. You didn’t even know Jungkook had taken a picture of you there. You had a stupid reading to complete last night, one that made no sense and was terribly-written, and you spent an hour just trying to figure out what the damn argument was, and Jungkook captured it. You were there for an hour and Jungkook was there too, watching you like it was nothing, waiting for the perfect moment. He was there, sitting across from you, camera at the ready. You didn’t even hear it click. 

He closes it before you get a closer look at the photo, frantically hitting the little red dot at the top corner of the window before you have a chance to ask why. 

“What, I’m not allowed to see?” You chide, a little bit hurt but more confused than anything else. Why is Jungkook being so secretive?

“No,” Jungkook spits quickly. making you raise an eyebrow in alarm. “I mean, it’s a surprise. You get to see when it’s finished. I still have to… uh, edit. And stuff.”

“Edit? You think I’m that ugly?” You tease, knowing that he probably means color correction but enjoying the way that he gets all flustered when he hears your voice.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at that, like he just realized he made a wrong turn and is desperately backtracking. “What, no! I don’t—I don’t think you’re ugly.”

You laugh, letting the sound of your voice ease the tension in his shoulders, reveling in the way his big doe eyes seem to soften when he realizes you were just teasing. He looks like a kid caught stealing a candy bar from a gas station, looks like one of those boyfriends in the viral videos where the girl reveals that she got him a present or something instead, all nervous and full of explanations. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure him, rubbing up and down his arm to soothe him, calm his heart down. “You don’t have to show me. I’m just excited. No one’s ever taken photos of me like this before.”

“I would,” Jungkook speaks up softly. “If you asked. I would.”

“I know,” You say. You’re not sure if there’s a thing in this world Jungkook wouldn’t do for you, and you, him. If he asked, you would pluck the stars from the sky for him. Bring him back a piece of the moon. Stop time. Anything. Everything. Just for him. “I know.”

 “What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, changing the topic as he whirls around in his gaming chair. 

“Just another reading, like always,” you dismiss, because you’re positive the last thing Jungkook wants to hear about right now is your primary source reading on irrigation techniques in agrarian Europe. You don’t even want to hear about it. “But I could use some help on Astronomy.”

Without another word, Jungkook gets up from his desk and the two of you head over to his bed, where an untouched problem set waits on your computer. He grabs a notebook from his backpack along the way before sitting down next to you on the edge of his bed, bodies pressed together. Slowly, he begins to coach you through each problem, step by step, drawing pictures and diagrams if he has to, until you finish all ten problems. 

The truth is, you didn’t really need help with this unit. Astronomy’s gotten a lot easier now that Jungkook has taught you the strategies to tackle it. But Jungkook sometimes feels like a ghost when he works, especially when he’s sitting at his desk, quiet and focused and almost invisible. And call you clingy, but you like it when you can look up and see his face instead of the back of a chair, a little tuft of wavy brown hair. You like it when he’s right beside you, in a place where you know you won’t lose him, where you can hold on if things get rough. Where you can see his stupid brown eyes and his goofy smile and know that he’ll always be there for you. 

When he’s finished, Jungkook doesn’t get back up to sit at his desk. He flops down on his back, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, eyes tracing the cracks. You join him, side by side, pretending that there’s something there. Looking up at the sky would be nicer, but it doesn’t really matter, so long as you’re with him.

“I didn’t know you took so many photos,” you say.

“I never want to miss anything.”

“You should give me more warnings, next time. I feel like I look so ugly in some of them.”

“No, you don’t. Don’t say stuff like that.”

“You don’t think I’m ugly?” You ask him, for real this time. It’s not that you think he’s going to say that he does, it’s that you want to know what he really thinks. How he really sees you. You turn your head to him, back pressed against his comforter, barely a foot apart. And he turns back to you, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, big brown eyes wide and blinking. He’s right there, how could you miss him?

“No,” Jungkook says, honest and true. He looks at you, looks right at you, right into you, and he muses to himself, chuckling. “Why would I ever think that?”

At the end of the day, you can’t really be bothered to put on real pants in anticipation of Jungkook’s trigger-happy camera-taking tendencies. He’s seen you spill a boiling hot bowl of tomato soup all over yourself in the dining hall. He’s seen you at four in the morning in the library the night before finals begin, eyebags down to your knees and mismatched shoes on your feet. He’s seen you in the middle of a frat house, sweat dripping down your forehead and smelling of nothing but straight alcohol. Getting dressed up just for him would be antithetical to the very foundation of your friendship. 

You have, however, become keenly more cognizant in the last few days of when Jungkook is about to take a photo of you. Mostly because you glance up at your surroundings every three seconds to make sure you aren’t getting sniped from across the food court. Nobody else needs to see a picture of you picking up three pieces of sushi with your chopsticks and stuffing them all into your mouth at once. And, from what you can tell, you’ve been pretty successful, which either means you’ve gotten better at telling when Jungkook might be taking a photo of you, or Jungkook’s gotten better at hiding it. 

Either way, he’s got a lot more pictures of you reflexively flashing a peace-sign in his direction when you hear the telltale sound of his camera lens focusing, so you’re not really sure what that means for the fate of his portfolio. 

Besides your newfound hyper-awareness of the sound of a camera lens adjusting, the strangest part of you and Jungkook’s little project is how quickly the rest of your friends adjusted to this brand new dynamic. 

This is not to say this assignment is the weirdest thing you and Jungkook have done together, because there was once one week where you and Jungkook challenged each other to only eat bananas for every meal to see if anything would happen to either of you. Nothing did, but after that week you swore off bananas for the rest of your life and have had little appetite for them since. 

It’s more that your other friends have just accepted the fact that ridiculous, extravagant shenanigans are a necessary part of you and Jungkook’s relationship and have simply chosen not to question them anymore. At least, most of them have. 

“So, how’s you and Jungkook’s little photography fling going?” Maisie asks, and even through the phone you can hear the way she’s wiggling her eyebrows. 

“It’s not a fling, and it’s fine,” you hiss back, trying to keep your voice down as you pack up your belongings, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder. “Stop speaking so loudly, everyone else in the library can probably hear you.”

“Good, because they’ve all probably noticed the way Jungkook’s been following you around like an unrestrained fanboy for the past four days taking pictures of you,” Maisie says pointedly, voice so sharp it causes you to look around at the other tables to make sure no one’s listening in. 

You frown, hoping your deadpan expression is audible through the phone. “It’s not like that and you know it.”

“Don’t you think it’s even a little strange that you’ve given Jungkook full permission to take photos of you like you’re a model and he’s some sort of weird, professional paparazzi?” You can practically see Maisie’s face in front of you, all wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she makes her point.

“No, it’s what we agreed on,” you remind her for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing weird about this. You’re helping him with a project, what more could it be? “Jungkook needed someone to take pictures of for his photography project and I thought it would be a good idea if I was that someone.”

“Hmm… wonder why…” Maisie trails off, deliberately vague and suggestive all at once. 

“You’ve been going on about this ever since Jungkook and I met, Maise,” you say with a roll of your eyes, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “You know that Jungkook and I are just friends. Like we have always been.”

“Friends that take candid photos of each other under the guise of a project,” Maisie adds, and you can see the air quotes around the word “project” right in front of you.

“Friends that help each other out because that’s what friends do,” you correct. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that Jungkook and I are always going to be just friends and nothing more. No matter how much money you’ve bet on us getting together.”

Maisie gasps. “I have not bet money on such a thing! This is slander!”

“Don’t think I don’t see you and Jimin’s damn Venmo history.” You pull up to the front desk of the library to check out a primary source book needed for one of your classes. It’s the first edition, and it’s battered beyond belief, but it’s better than paying for it. “Just this, thanks.”

“The only way you could convince me that you and Jungkook are just friends is if you go on a date or something,” Maisie comments snidely. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you romantically interested in someone else the entire time you’ve known each other. Isn’t that proof enough?”

“You want me to go on a date with someone?” You demand, determined to get Maisie to hop off your ass about this. 

You and Jungkook are just friends. If swiping right with someone on Tinder and getting dinner and a movie with them is what will convince Maisie of that, then that is what you will do. It’s not as if being friends with Jungkook is mutually exclusive with you going out with other people. Should be easy, right? 

The boy behind the counter tells you your book is due back at the end of the semester, and you nod your thanks before heading out of the library.

“Fine, I’ll go on a date with someone. If it’ll get you to stop trying to convince me that Jungkook and I are gonna get married and have babies,” you declare, pushing your body against the door handles as you leave, five minutes to spare before your next class begins. 

“You guys would have really cute babies, I’m just saying,” Maisie points out like it’s nothing. 

You roll your eyes, taking the phone away from your ear as your finger hovers over the red button. “See you, Maise.”

You’re barely three steps out of the library, still rolling your eyes at the Call Ended screen on your phone when a voice catches your attention. 

“Y/N!”

You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook’s devilish grin disappear behind his camera, and you don’t even have time to blink before he begins snapping away, finger mashing the silver button at the top as your expression morphs from surprise to defeat, unable to counter his sniping abilities with a signature peace sign. Even from twenty feet away, you can hear Jungkook laughing as you take the opportunity to pose for a few moments, like you really are a model and he really is your personal photographer. The sound of his giggles fills the air, music to your ears, lingering between you like dandelion wisps, blown by the wind. 

Another voice breaks you from your trance. 

“And here we have our resident celebrity and her paparazzi,” Jimin says, motioning to the two of you as he speaks to an enormous tour group of potential applicants and their parents. Caught in front of them, the heat suddenly rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively cover your face, embarrassed to have been pointed out by Jimin, whose amicable, lovable personality is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to his part-time job as a tour guide. 

The worst part is how some of the parents and students seem to believe him for a second, that you really are famous and that Jungkook really is your photographer, looking at the two of you inquisitively as you shrink beneath their gazes. 

“I’m kidding,” Jimin quickly continues as Jungkook joins you where you stand, laughing at the way you look like a deer caught in headlights. “They’re just some friends of mine who we happened to catch outside the library, which is our next stop. But don’t they look so cute together?”

“Are you guys dating?” One of the students pipes up, asking what no one else dared to. 

Your eyes widen at the notion, wondering if you and Jungkook really are cursed to always be mistaken for a couple when you two have never been, and most likely will never be one. Shaking your head, you force out a laugh, “No, we’re just friends.” Beside you, Jungkook is noticeably silent. You suppose he’s gotten just as sick of explaining as you. 

“Bummer, right?” Jimin asks his group, earning a couple of disappointed nods from innocent high-schoolers that still believe in love. “But I’m working on that, so don’t worry. Anyway, this library will be your main destination for studying, book-reading, and everything in between, and is conveniently located two minutes away from the freshman dorms…”

The conversation finally drawn away from you and Jungkook, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in. “Weird, right? Even high-schoolers think we’re together.”

Jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the settings on his camera just to keep his hands busy. The quiet makes you wonder what is going on up inside his head, makes you wonder what it is he’s thinking about, what it is you’re not seeing. Lately, it’s felt like there’s something on Jungkook’s mind you wish he felt comfortable telling you. 

“Hey, you alright?” You ask, giving him a little nudge with your side. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Jungkook says, voice soft, barely audible. It doesn’t make you feel any better. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Don’t you have class soon?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right, fuck,” you say, checking your phone only to find you have barely a minute to get to your next class. Guess you’ll be using one of your allotted absences today. “Thanks for reminding me. Dinner tonight?”

“I’ll text you,” Jungkook promises, and you nod your agreement as you dash off, determined to turn a five-minute walk into a one-minute one with the power of exercise. As you leave, you watch as Jungkook flounders outside the library, staring down at his camera and scrolling through his photos, and you still find yourself feeling like you’re missing something. What is Jungkook not telling you? 

What do you not know?

By the time you reach your class, two minutes late and completely out of breath, tardiness is the last thing on your mind.

This project was just meant to be a friend helping out a friend. So why does it feel like you and Jungkook are losing each other?

Using Tinder is easy. Dangerously so.

You’re no expert in app design, but its simplified “yes or no” mechanic has you swiping through people like it’s an extreme sport, barely giving some of them a second glance if their Tinder profile description doesn’t make you laugh within the first sentence. 

Tinder was, admittedly, not your first choice of potential date-finding methods. Call you old-fashioned, but whatever happened to asking someone in person if they wanted to get a meal with you? To showing up at their doorstep with a rose bouquet and a toothy white grin? Perhaps all of those old-timey movies you and Jungkook always watched have given you unrealistic expectations. But can you blame them? 

Even if Tinder wasn’t your first choice, it was certainly the fastest. It takes a second to look at someone’s designated Tinder thumbnail, two to read their description, and three to decide if they’re worth a swipe right. Compare that to actively meeting up with someone, getting their contact information, and then continuing to dance around each other until you finally decide to get dinner together. That’s the sort of thing that could take weeks. Maybe months. And in some cases, years.

Besides, it’s not like you had very many options at your disposal. You don’t trust Maisie to set you up with someone because she’ll probably just choose one of the many boys from her management class and call it a day. Asking someone yourself is absolutely out of the question. And, for some strange, unknown reason, the idea of getting Jungkook to hook you up with one of his friends just doesn’t sit right with you.

So, Tinder it is. And as it turns out, chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just archaic.

An hour into your mindless swiping, you get a message notification. Two hours after that, you’ve got plans with a nice senior boy whom you’ve never met. 

And for the first time in a very long time, there’s something to mark on your calendar for Saturday night.

The little blue block on your Google Calendar tab stares back at you from where your open laptop sits on your desk, the red line that signifies your current time slowly inching towards it as you fumble around in front of your mirror, more dressed up than you have been in weeks. Maisie was right. It’s been so long since you’ve gone out with someone that you’ve completely forgotten what the dress code is for something like this. A dress? Heels? Makeup?

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you will anyway. What if he’s wearing a hoodie and sweats while you look like you’re about to attend the goddamn Academy Awards? Maybe the eyeshadow was a little too much.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks it’s inevitable that you do. The door to your apartment swings open, and you can hear heavy footsteps making their way to your bedroom, that easy gait of his familiar as always.

“Hey, do you think we can just get some take-out and watch a stupid old noir movie, or something? I’ve had a day,” he shouts out, the sigh audible in his voice.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you definitely have when you turn around to see Jungkook standing right outside your bedroom in the floppiest sweater you’ve ever seen and jeans with holes in the knees, mouth agape as he stares straight at you. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes are blown wide at the sight of you, at the way they rake up and down your figure, like he can’t even believe what he’s seeing. It’s impossible not to notice how he seems to flounder at the sight of you.

The only thing that breaks the both of you out of your stupors, frozen in place like two criminals caught red-handed, is the sound of his hulking black backpack thudding to the floor. 

“Whoa.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” You ask, voice wobbly. God, why are you so nervous? It’s just Jungkook. 

“Too much for what?” Jungkook blinks, deliberate and slow, as if he’s determined to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “Where are you going?”

“I think we’ll have to do a raincheck for the noir movie and takeout,” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips together in fright as you force out a small, tense smile. “I’m… going out. With someone.”

“Like,” Jungkook begins, and even from here you can hear the way he stops himself, hear him breathe out every word, thick on his tongue. “On a date?”

“Yeah.”

It’s a one-syllable word and yet it takes nearly all of your willpower just to say it. Just to confirm what Jungkook’s already thinking. Just to tell him, your best friend, your ride or die, your number one, that you’re going out on a date. 

“Oh.” Jungkook’s voice is lifeless. “Do I know them?”

“No, uh, it’s just some guy I met on Tinder. I don’t know, I just wanted to see what all the hype was about, I guess. And I haven’t really been on a date in a while, so I figured I might just take up the opportunity, so we’re probably just going to go out to a restaurant and maybe go to a club afterwards if we’re still in the mood, and—” You cut yourself off, so nervous that you’ve resorted to your terrible habit of rambling to try and ease the tension. “Why? Do you think it’s too much?”

“You use Tinder?” Jungkook asks instead. It sounds like he’s shocked to hear this. 

“Yeah…” you trail off. “Why?”

Jungkook freezes at the question, but it’s not because it seems like he doesn’t have an answer. It’s because it seems like he does. Only it’s an answer he doesn’t want to share. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he eventually settles on, shaking his head. “You, uh, you look good.”

“You think? I feel like it’s a lot. I don’t know how to dress appropriately for stuff like this anymore,” you ask, palms sweaty as you furiously straighten out the skirt of your dress. “Should I change into pants, or anything?”

“No, no, I think that’s fine,” Jungkook says with an honest smile. “You look nice like this.”

“It’s probably been like, a year since you last saw me in a dress,” you comment mindlessly, turning back to face the mirror as you fiddle with your makeup, finger wiping away a bit of smudged lipstick or a stray bit of mascara. “I miss my sweats. Hey, whoa, wait, what are you doing—?”

You whip around to find Jungkook slowly fishing out the camera from his backpack, hand gripping it tightly as he brandishes it in front of you. 

“I, um, I just wanted to see if I could maybe take a photo of you,” Jungkook says, a small, little grin decorating his features. “Since you’re all dressed up.”

“Seriously?” You ask in disbelief. 

Jungkook nods, holding the camera out in front of him. “Just one.”

He looks so small, standing across your bedroom. He looks so small and delicate and intimate, body curled in on itself ever so slightly as he looks at you, the yellow glow of your ceiling light reflected in his hazelnut eyes, drowning beneath his clothes. He looks like he has never seen a moment more perfect, never seen an opportunity as clear, looks like he thinks that if he blinks he’ll miss it. 

Looks as if a photo will be the only way to remember it. 

And you nod. Because he is your best friend, and who are you to deny him of something so simple? Of a press of a button? It doesn’t feel like a project anymore. It just feels like a memory. 

Jungkook brings the camera to his eye, and you smile at him, soft and gentle and warm. He grins back, focusing the camera lens before snapping away. 

You wonder what he sees. 

(You wonder if it’s as beautiful as what you see.)

“Have fun tonight, okay?” Jungkook asks of you as your Google Calendar notification sounds, letting you know you have approximately two minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up outside your apartment.

You nod. “I will. And if I don’t, then I’ll come over afterwards. And we can watch that stupid noir film.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, a shrug of his shoulders. 

“But I want to. So I will. Okay? I’ll text you,” you promise. “Don’t think I’ll forget about you.”

Jungkook smiles at your little tease, at the way you cup the side of his jaw with your hand as you head towards your front door. 

“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook sputters out, running after you. He reaches you right as you get to the door, hand grasping the doorknob. You turn to look at him, blinking. “I hope tonight is everything you dreamed of.”

There is something so distinctly sad in his voice. It makes you wonder who has broken his heart. Makes you wonder what you can do to fix it.

“Even if it’s not,” you say to him, taking his hand in your own and squeezing it tight, reminding him that, no matter what, you’re still here. “I know you’ll always be there to take care of me afterwards.”

Your phone buzzes with a message from your date, and you scurry out the door. 

For some reason, there’s a part of you that wishes you never even left. 

The date is okay. Not bad, but nothing to write home about. By the time you finished eating, it was obvious neither of you had any interest in continuing the night elsewhere, whether it be a club or a karaoke bar. He pays for your meal despite your insistence that you can handle the check perfectly fine on your own, thanks you for a nice night, and drops you right back at your apartment. And so goes your one and only Tinder experience, blowing away like a leaf in the wind. 

You look down at your phone. It isn’t even nine o’clock yet. 

[November 7th, 8:48PM]

You: you still game for that movie?

[November 7th, 8:50PM]

Jungkook: you finished your date already?

You: is that a yes or a no

Jungkook: my door is always open, you know that

You: you’re gonna get robbed one day and it’s gonna be by me You: i’m coming over

The walk from your apartment to Jungkook’s is six minutes and thirty seconds on a good day, and seven minutes and fifteen seconds on a bad day, which is usually dependent on if the traffic light over the main road has decided to be extra slow or not. You could walk the damn route in your sleep if you really wanted, having done it so many times in the last year and a half, ever since he moved out of on-campus housing and into his own place.

Tonight, it takes you nearly eight minutes to get to his apartment, but you mostly chalk that up to the heels you’re wearing. If you cared any less about your dignity, you’d probably take them off and walk barefoot like a defeated heroine in a romance movie, shoes dangling from your fingers as they hang low by your side. 

But you aren’t defeated. You didn’t have the world’s most spectacular date, but the night isn’t over just yet. 

Jungkook’s waiting at his front door by the time you arrive. 

“Eight minutes, huh? You’re getting old,” he asks snidely, looking down at the invisible watch on his wrist. 

“Your counting is just off,” you retort easily, falling into that same friendly rhythm, that familiar little beat that the two of you share. You push past him and into his apartment, instantly feeling more at home, shoulders sinking and heartbeat soothing as you soak in the scent of his room, of his home, of him. 

“How’d it go?” Jungkook asks, eyes hopeful as they watch you tug off your heels. They were hardly three inches tall and yet you still want nothing to do with them. 

You shrug. “Eh. It was okay.”

“Just okay?” Jungkook asks, sounding seriously upset for you. Upset that you didn’t have a good night even after you promised him that you would. Upset that it didn’t turn out to be everything you wanted. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, looking over at him, dejected. “It just—I just had this feeling that it wasn’t going to work out.”

Jungkook scowls to himself, eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to figure out what exactly you mean by that. And the truth is, you’re not sure either. The date was fine, and he was nice, but even when you first met it felt like you weren’t going to get what you wanted from him. Like you were just going on the date to go on the date. Like you already knew that it would mean nothing. 

Jungkook was going to be waiting for you at the end of the night whether it went amazingly well or terribly bad. And knowing that, strangely enough, almost made you want the date to be horrible. Like it would make seeing Jungkook afterwards that much sweeter. 

“Oh,” Jungkook says lamely. “Well, I’m sorry. It seemed like you were really looking forward to it.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him. “Can we just watch this movie now and make fun of how sexist it is? Please?”

To that, Jungkook easily agrees. As he’s queueing up the movie, you raid his closet for a hoodie and sweatpants, desperate to strip yourself of your dress and tights and cozy up in clothes that are much more appropriate for your comfort level. At this point in your friendship, Jungkook doesn’t even question it when he sees you march into his room, fishing through his closet and drawers for your favorite matching set of his, this grey pair that he’s worn so much it still smells like him even after it’s come right out of the wash. 

He only stares back in awe when he sees you emerge from his bedroom wearing them. 

“Ready?” You ask, breaking him from his resolve.

Jungkook blinks wildly from where he’s seated on his dinky old couch, as if to clear his vision. “What? Oh, yeah, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Then hurry it up, Mister,” you demand, sitting down next to him and curling into his body. It’s instinctual, at this point, wanting to be close to him. To feel the warmth of his body radiate upon your own. To feel his chest beneath the palm of your hands, his arm wrapped around your side. “All good?” You ask, looking up at him. 

Jungkook looks down at you, and you swear, you’ve never seen him more at home. “Always, when I’m with you.”

The movie is predictably good and predictably sexist, but your favorite part by far is when Jungkook reaches around on the coffee table in front of you for his camera, holding it up to his eye and snatching a picture of the television, the film grainy like an old polaroid, faded like an antique photograph. He clicks away at the scene in front of him before turning on you, the lens so close to your face you’re almost certain all he’ll manage to capture is your nose. You laugh, pushing yourself away from him as he snaps, and snaps, and snaps, image after image after image, until his camera battery has died and there’s no more room left on his card. 

“Guess I’ll have to charge this thing, then,” Jungkook sighs as he declares his camera dead, screen black. 

“You aren’t going to include any of those, are you?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 

Jungkook shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you have enough?” You deadpan, thinking back to the hundreds of photos Jungkook must have taken of you over the past week, and even more that you don’t know about. There’s certainly no shortage of them in his current camera inventory. That’s for sure. 

“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. He stretches out an open arm, and you don’t have to think twice about falling into it, letting him wrap you up in his hold, curling into his body. 

The black television screen crackles before you, DVD player waiting for Jungkook to turn it off. There’s no need for either of you to look up at each other. Not when you’re strung together like this. Not when you already know exactly where he is. 

“It’s due on Monday, right?” You inquire softly, fatigue slowly overtaking you. 

“Yeah. I’m almost finished, just have to do some curating and editing.”

“I want to see it.”

“What? My project?”

“What else?”

“It’s just a project, it’s not that exciting.”

You pull away from him at that, looking up at him with furrowed brows and scrunched-up nose. “What do you mean ‘it’s not that exciting’? It’s your photography project. You’ve spent a whole week working on it.”

“Yeah, but it’s just you, you know?” Jungkook objects. “Like, you know what you look like. It’s just going to be a bunch of photos of you, like I said it’d be.”

“That’s exactly why I want to see it,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You took pictures of me for a whole week. Don’t you want to share them with me?”

“If you really want some of the photos, I’ll send you some, but you don’t need to see the whole portfolio, you know? It’s just for my professor,” Jungkook says stiffly, surprisingly resistant. What’s the big deal? It’s not like there will suddenly be new information about you that you didn’t know before. You want to see what Jungkook has been working tirelessly on this entire week. Where’s the harm in that?

“Why are you getting so hung up on this? It’s just photos,” you say with a frown. 

“Why are you getting so hung up on this?” Jungkook challenges back. 

You sigh, sinking back into him, defeated. Even a little disagreement like that is enough to knock the wind out of the both of you, so you decide not to push it much further. 

“Do you promise to show me eventually?” You ask, hopeful.

Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you almost expect him to say no, considering how protective of his work he’s being. “One day,” he declares. “One day, I will.”

And that’s good enough for you. 

You lose track of how much time passes after that, feeling your eyelids getting heavy as the warmth of his body envelopes you, drowsiness settling in. There’s just something about this moment, right here, right now, that makes you want to fall asleep.

You’re on the verge of slumber when Jungkook’s voice breaks through.

“Why didn’t you think your date would work out?”

“I don’t know,” you respond sleepily, barely even opening your eyes. “It just felt wrong.”

“How do you know what feels right?”

Good question. Perhaps if you had the energy, you’d answer it. But right now, all you can think about is how cozy you feel in Jungkook’s hoodie and sweatpants, how the scent of him surrounds you, that indescribable, boyish aroma that can’t be replicated. Right now, all you can think about is how easily your body molds into his, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together. Right now, all you can think about is him. 

The worst part about each and every week is when it ends. Because the end of one week signifies the beginning of the next, and when you’re in university, the beginning of the next week means a whole new batch of assignments that you have to complete and a whole new batch of due dates to meet. 

So, yeah. The weeks have been blurring together for you lately. But what else could you expect?

Sunday evening, as per usual, finds you right back where you always are: Jungkook’s apartment. 

The two of you have been regularly getting together on Sundays to study, ever since you both realized you work significantly harder when motivated by the other, determined to finish all of your work on time so you can spend the rest of the night fooling around by mixing Monster with as many unhealthy drinks that you can possibly think of. And it’s been working out well for the both of you so far. Jungkook powers through his coding assignments and you whiz through your readings, intent on keeping up to date with your tasks so they don’t all come crashing down on you at the end of the semester. 

Studying with Jungkook has always been easy, largely due to the fact that it’s the one allotted time during your friendship where the both of you deem it best to not speak to each other for the sake of your work. The moment one of you opens your mouth it’s over, so you sit on opposite ends of the room and pretend that the other person isn’t even there. 

Jungkook told you earlier today that he had already finished his photography portfolio, so there would unfortunately be no sneaky glances over his shoulder to see if you can catch a glimpse of one of the pictures. Which is fine by you, you’re just a little embarrassed that Jungkook had told you this outright. Not that you were planning to do exactly that, but you were planning to do exactly that. 

Part of you. more than anything, wants to know why Jungkook won’t just show you himself. Why he’s being so secretive, so protective of his photography project when you both know already exactly what’s in it. For God’s sake, he just spent the entire week taking photos of you non-stop. It’s like not as if any part of this is a mystery to either of you. What more could he have done?

Whatever. You aren’t going to force it if he doesn’t want you to. You suppose that maybe one day, far into the future, he’ll finally decide that the time is right. 

“I’m so fucking tired,” Jungkook declares lifelessly as he gets up from where he’s sitting on your bed, dead inside. “I need a break.”

“Are you going to the kitchen? Can you make me some tea, please?” You ask him, looking up from the laptop on your desk. 

Jungkook nods wordlessly before disappearing out of the room. 

You and Jungkook’s best study practice to maximize productivity is the taking of each other’s cell phones so that the other cannot be tempted to look at it. It’s worked plenty of times before and will probably work plenty of times again, because as they say, out of sight, out of mind. 

Unfortunately, it’s hard to pretend that your phone is out of sight when it’s been buzzing on your bedside table for the past five minutes, and your fingers have been itching to get over there and answer your damn notifications. So, while Jungkook is out of the room, you decide to cheat a little by dashing over there just to see what the heck is going on in the rest of the world. 

As it turns out, nothing much. Just Maisie texting you as she binges yet another television show, giving spoiler-free updates anytime anything remotely dramatic happens. You have a couple of new emails as well. 

The thing that actually catches your attention the most, is Jungkook’s laptop screen. 

There’s just a Word document open on it, but a Word document is a far cry from his usual coding program or Photoshop. Because you can’t help yourself, you peer over to see what he’s written. 

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Hard to say that I have. I don’t think I learned something about myself so much as I confirmed what I already knew, cementing it as a real thought in my brain, rather than just a daydream. Nothing changed in the way that my best friend and I interacted, and I can almost confirm that nothing changed in the way that she feels about me, just as nothing changed in the way I feel about her. I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her. 

What?

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Not as a reference but to remind myself of this very moment in my life—a single week over the course of my life that I felt was worth saving. I imagine that there will come a time, far in the future, where my best friend and I have separated a little bit, found our own lives and created our own families with our own people. And when that happens, I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

This feels personal. Maybe you should stop reading. But there’s just one more question left on the page… 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. If it meant getting to spend more time with her, take more photos of her, see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

“Y/N?”

You hadn’t even heard the kettle whistling. 

“Jungkook,” you say, breathless, caught red-handed. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, placing your steaming cup of tea down on the desk as he stares back at you in horror, in surprise, in worry, in something. Something that gives you this imminent sense of impending doom. 

“Uh—”

“Were you reading my computer screen?”

It’s not like you could say you were doing anything else. 

“I couldn’t help myself, I came over here to check my phone since it’s been buzzing like crazy and your computer was right there and I just…” you sputter out, thoughts swirling inside your head. 

(I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

If it meant getting to see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.)

“What do you mean, how you feel about me?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. Because the sound of his voices echoes in your head like the beat of a drum, over and over and over. Because you’re staring back at him and even if he just caught you snooping through his computer you can never be worried when it comes to him. Because everything he has ever done puts you at ease. 

“Y/N, that is private, why would you read something like that?” He asks, each word a sucker punch into your heart. 

“Because I just had to know, okay?” You shout back. “I had to know what you were hiding from me.”

“So you decided to snoop through my computer to see if you could figure it out yourself?” He demands, storming over to you. 

“So you are hiding something?”

“That’s not the point, the point is that—”

“What are you not telling me, Jungkook?” You cry out, watching as he approaches you, dark eyes piercing your gaze. “Why won’t you show me your goddamn portfolio? If there’s really nothing to be afraid of, why are you keeping it from me? I’m your best friend, I’m the fucking subject of your project? Don’t I deserve to see it? Why won’t you show me?”

“Because then you’d know!” Jungkook shouts back, leaving deafening silence in his wake. You look up at him, blinking. In front of you, Jungkook is out of breath, chest heaving. 

He looks so strained. So tired. Like he’s been carrying around this secret for months now, maybe even years, and this is the final straw. This is what has sent the both of you crashing down upon each other. This stupid fucking project. You’ve known Jungkook ever since the beginning of your freshman year, and never before have you seen him so hopeless. 

“Jungkook—?”

“You’d know, goddamnit,” Jungkook says, hand coming up to rub at his forehead, dragging down his cheek. “And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.”

“Know what? What would I know?” 

Jungkook closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Opens them again. “That I’m in love with you.”

The words drift in between the two of you, hovering in the air like feathers. You see them, clear as day, in front of you, hear them echoing in your head, over and over and over again. Feel the way your blood is pumping, the way your heart is beating. 

“You’re in love with me?” You ask him. 

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Jungkook admits. “Or at all, really. But I have been, for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid that I’d lose you.”

You chuckle, a small, little thing from the back of your throat. “You must have known I’d never let that happen, hmm?”

Jungkook smiles softly. “I was scared. Can you blame me? You’re my best friend.”

“And you are mine,” you remind him. 

“It’s just—” Jungkook begins, like the gates of a dam are opening up. “We’d known each other for so long, and we have such a good thing going as is, always texting and calling and hanging out together, studying together on Sunday nights and seeing each other during the week, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. And then my professor assigned this project, and the only person I could think of to take photos was you, but I didn’t want to ask that of you in case you thought it was weird, but you suggested it anyway so I said yes, but I knew. I knew then that the moment I took one goddamn photo of you it would be obvious, and that if you ever saw you would just know. Stuff like that is easy to pick up in pictures, because a camera is like, tunnel vision for whatever it is you want to focus on most, and that’s you, that’s always been you, so I—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, reaching out to him, pressing a soft hand to his cheek. “Just, shut up, okay?”

And then you cup his head in both of your hands, and press a kiss to his lips. A small one, if nothing else, but a kiss nonetheless. You press your lips against his own and immediately you feel the sparks rush through you, this flash of heat that settles into something softer, something sweeter. It ignites and soothes you all at once, like a stray lightning bolt out on the open ocean. Like a single clap of thunder and the pitter patter of rain. 

You press a kiss to his lips and when you pull away, Jungkook’s eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly. And for a moment there, you almost think you did the wrong thing. 

But barely a second more passes before he’s scooping you up in his arms and pulling you in close to him, his lips finding yours like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He holds you tight, hands pressed against the small of your back as he kisses you, warm and fiery and full, as if he can’t get enough, as if this is his only chance. You gasp into it before relaxing in his hold, cold hands on his warm cheeks, body melting at the feeling of him, of him all over you, of his hands and his mouth and his chest, this perfect, solid figure. 

He kisses you and it sends heat shooting through your body, filling you up from the inside out, like your heart has burst and filled your bloodstream with fire, with sparks of warmth that tingle all over. He kisses you, and everywhere his hands press is another sizzle to your skin, an electric shock that makes you giggle into his mouth. 

He kisses you and it feels like a storm has settled, feels like gentle rain after a hurricane, feels like waves crashing against the shore. He kisses you and it is the only thing you can think about. 

By the time you part once more, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so blissed out. 

“See?” You point out softly. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

Jungkook looks positively dazed. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Ooh, was I that good?” You tease.

“I’m dreaming.” He shakes his head. “I’m definitely fucking dreaming.”

Jungkook sinks onto your bed, hitting the mattress with a thud. He stares mindlessly in front of him, like his brain needs time to process. 

You smile to yourself. He can have all the time in the world. 

“Is this real?” He mumbles when you sit down next to him, press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Are you real?”

“Just like you,” you promise him. “I didn’t know this is what we had been missing, all this time.”

“It wasn’t missing,” Jungkook assures you. “It was just hidden.”

“I love you,” you whisper, watching him swallow the words like a glass of wine. “I think I always have. You just needed to say it first.”

“Oblivious as always.” Jungkook grins, smiling against your lips. “But I’m glad. If this is what it would take, then I’m glad.”

“You wouldn’t change anything?” You ask him, eyes wide and curious. 

It’s hard to know how long you and Jungkook have been secretly pining over each other. Hard to know how long Jungkook has known that he’s loved you, how long it’s been since you started to feel the same, even if subconsciously. It’s hard to know how long you would have kept going if not for this project. It might have been months. Years. Years that Jungkook was willing to spend holding back, if only it meant keeping you by his side. 

“No,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “I have you now. Why would I?”

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Previously, I had responded to this question by saying that I hadn’t learned anything, and felt that nothing changed in my life. Then, some things happened. And after those things, I learned that I am the luckiest man alive. To know my best friend is one thing. To love her is a privilege. To have her love me back is nothing less than a miracle.

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Every day for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been as thankful to receive a homework assignment as I am, right now. I owe everything to this project. It is the reason I have her. 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. I want to take photos of her for the rest of my life. I want to save every memory we ever share together. So that far into the future, we can look back on them together and say, “Remember that?”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[cherienymphe]

Crave (Peter Parker x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, NON-CON, vampire!Peter, bloodplay, mentions of animal cruelty, mentions of murder, mentions of X-Men characters

DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

divider provided by @/k1tty4rk

summary: when Peter goes missing while on a mission, he’s not exactly himself when he returns. His appetite is a little different now, and you soon find out that he’s hungry for more than just blood

~

You should’ve known that something was wrong when your phone went off at nearly 3 in the morning. No one ever called you that late, not even Peter. Your best friend was more likely to slip through your window if he needed something. Groggy with fatigue, it took you a moment to realize that you had not plugged your phone up before going to sleep like you thought, and that it was instead in your sheets somewhere. 

“Hello?” you finally grumbled, eyes still closed as you wondered just who in the world was calling you.

“Kid, it’s Tony. Is Peter with you?”

You were suddenly wide awake, blinking your eyes open as you forced yourself to sit up.

“No…? I thought… Isn’t he on a mission?”

Worry began to bleed into your heart, and it only increased at Tony’s words.

“He was, yeah.”

You threw the covers off of you, hurriedly sliding out of bed as you searched for some shoes.

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

The older man sighed, and you noted that his voice shook a little bit. You froze, heart dropping into your stomach as the severity of whatever was going on registered. Tony Stark was worried.

“He was supposed to check in 2 days ago. He was supposed to be back today. Neither of those things have happened.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Your pitch had risen, and you didn’t bother to mask your fear. 

“I don’t have much time to explain. Capsicle and Robocop are coming with me to see if we can find him. We’re leaving shortly, but my coordinates show that he’s still in Bulgaria. That’s where we sent him. We just haven’t heard a word from him and can’t seem to get in touch with him.”

You could hear things going on in the background, and you figured that they were only moments away from leaving. Your stomach churned, and you felt like you might be sick. If Tony Stark with all of his gadgets and resources couldn’t get ahold of Peter, then something was really wrong.

“Look, I have to go. If he shows up there, let us know immediately.”

He hung up before you had the chance to tell him that you were coming straight to the compound. You stared at your phone for a bit, brows drawn together as you processed this news. You hadn’t thought anything of it when you hadn’t heard from Peter in a few days. He wasn’t a kid anymore, had graduated college alongside you only last year, so his presence on the team was needed a lot more. His missions were less juvenile, so losing touch for a week at a time was nothing new.

As you threw on a coat to combat the biting New York air, you tried not to dwell on the worst. It couldn’t be helped though, and as soon as you stepped into your apartment hallway, shoulder grazing your door, tears filled your eyes. If Tony could see where Peter currently was...and he wasn’t able to get in touch with him...then that meant he was dead right? You shook your head, locking your door and tightening your fingers around your purse. There could be so many reasons for that. It didn’t mean he was dead.

The entire drive to upstate New York was a quiet one. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to fill the car with mind-numbing music to distract you. Your fingers were tight on the wheel, legs so tense that when you finally arrived at the compound, they actually hurt when you stepped out of the car. You leaned your back against the vehicle, the warmth seeping through your coat, and you released an unsteady breath.

You had known Peter since high school, easily finding a place with him and Ned, and eventually, MJ too. When Ned and MJ took their college education elsewhere, you had remained. You told yourself it was to save money, a partial truth, but you never wanted to admit that it was also to stay by Peter’s side. You couldn’t imagine being away from him. It was pathetic really, but Peter was more than some guy you loved. He was your best friend.

“I had a feeling you’d show up here.”

The familiar voice reached your ears, and you looked up at Wanda just as she floated down next to you. Her auburn hair was ruffled with a gentle breeze, her eyes sympathetic as she reached out to pull you into her side.

“They will find him,” she assured you.

You could hear Sam on the phone as soon as she guided you inside of the compound, and he sent you a tense smile and wave, which you returned. You could faintly hear other voices as well, and you figured that everyone who stayed back was wrapped up in doing whatever they could to get in contact with Peter. You felt helpless.

“What can I do?” you asked Wanda, already knowing the answer.

“Just be here,” she told you, making you sigh.

“Wanda…”

You gave her a reproachful look, and she smiled at you.

“We know you’re worried just like the rest of us, probably even more than the rest of us,” you swallowed at her knowing look. “...but everything will be okay. The last thing we need is you putting yourself in harm’s way or bursting a blood vessel.”

You nodded, heeding her words. You made your way to your room with a heavy heart. You were far from being a member of the team, you could barely throw a proper punch, but seeing as you came over so often with Peter, sometimes in the dead of night, Tony decided to have you a room put in. Right next to Peter’s.

One of his old college sweatshirts was on your desk, still there from the last time you borrowed it, and without thinking, you got undressed and put it on. It still smelled like him, and with the scent of your best friend filling your nose, you laid down and sought out sleep.

The next day brought bad news. They had found Peter’s suit, but no Peter. It explained his stationary location and their lack of success with getting in touch with him. You had just stepped into the door of the room when Tony told them, his virtual face wracked with fear and worry, something you weren’t used to seeing.

You could tell that you weren’t meant to hear the news just yet by the way Nat’s eyes widened when she finally noticed you. The rest of the team turned as she hurriedly rose, making her way to you just as your face crumbled.

“Y/N-.”

“Wh-what does that mean? What does he mean?”

Tony’s voice faded as she pulled you from the room, and you almost tripped over your feet as your legs shook.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s going to be okay,” she said, attempting to calm you.

“What does he mean by that? Why doesn’t he have his suit- where is he?”

You were in your room now, and she shushed you as she guided you to your bed. You sat down, staring at your feet as your brain whirled. You hadn’t realized how fast your heart was beating, and your whole body shook as you fought to process this news.

“I don’t understand,” you mumbled, more to yourself than the spy before you.

She came into your vision as she knelt before you, her hands taking yours.

“Me neither,” she mumbled.

You fingered Peter’s shirt. You were still wearing it, just with some jeans, and Nat observed the movement.

“How long?” she quietly asked.

She didn’t need to elaborate. You knew what she was asking.

“Since…” you shrugged, releasing a heavy breath. “...practically since forever.”

“Does he know?”

You sadly shook your head. She pursed her lips, red hair framing her face as she studied you.

“We’re going to find him, and when we do, you can tell him. Okay?”

You nodded.

“Okay,” you quietly replied.

Nat didn’t stay for long, and you guessed that she needed to get back to the team to plan the best course of action. You barely left your room for the rest of the day, not having much of an appetite nor energy for anything. It was late in the evening when you found yourself making your way to Peter’s room. You lost count of how many times you slept in here, but Peter was usually with you, and if not, he at least showed up at some point. You liked waking up to the sound of his soft snores.

It felt weird with him gone, even weirder when you accounted for the fact that you didn’t know when he’d be back. If he’d be back. Your face almost crumbled at the thought, and you laid down, grabbing one of his pillows and hugging it to your chest, unable to stop the tears that spilled over, no matter how much you tried.

You slept in his room for days, and for days there was still no sign of him. The team was beyond worried now. You knew it, no matter how much they tried to portray otherwise. They were getting restless and scared. You couldn’t exactly say that you were any different though.

Sleep was hard to find, and even when you did, you found yourself tossing and turning throughout the night. Every time you woke up, you kept hoping that he’d be there, that you’d hear his voice. You were met with a dark empty room each time though, and it always broke your heart. After Peter had been missing for 8 days, Wanda finally came to you.

“I think you should go home,” she told you.

You were sitting cross legged on Peter’s bed, and she sat before you, hands in her lap with her feet on the floor. You frowned at her, wondering if you had overstayed your welcome, but she continued.

“It’s not that we don’t want you here, because you know we love having you around, but… You do not look good, Y/N.”

You squirmed under her concerned stare, clearing your throat.

“I’m fine,” you quietly argued.

“You’re not, and that’s okay. You just...you look exhausted and worried, and you’ve lost weight. A considerable amount in such a short time. What would Peter think if he came back right now and saw that you weren’t properly taking care of yourself?” she wondered.

Guilt flooded you, and you reluctantly nodded.

“I know that being here brings you some comfort, but I don’t think it’s worth the toll it’s taking on you.”

Your shoulders sagged, and you reluctantly admitted that she was right. You wanted to be near Peter in any way you could, but constantly waiting and listening out for any news was stressing you out.

“Go home. Sleep in your own bed. Get some rest. You can always come back,” she said.

“Okay.”

So, you did. You took a shower as soon as you made it back to your apartment, finding another one of Peter’s shirts he’d left. You forced yourself to at least eat something of substance, and when you had all you could take, you made a cup of tea. You had tried to watch tv, but funnily enough, the news was reporting on a crime that Spider-Man’s had helped solve months ago. Unable to stomach it, you turned the tv off and opted for bed.

Strangely enough, you were able to sleep better in your own bed. It happened quickly, and you didn’t toss or turn much. The first time you floated back to consciousness, it must have been around 3 in the morning. It was the longest you’d slept in days, and you knew that you’d be drifting back soon. However, you faintly noted that goosebumps had erupted over your skin, like you were cold.

Considering it was cold outside, you kept your heater blasting.

You blinked, staring at your window. It was closed, but the curtains were parted, and you could see that it was snowing outside. For the first time in days, a small smile tugged at your lips, and with a sigh, you rolled over. A dark figure was standing beside your bed, and the scream that you let out echoed through the apartment, filled with terror.

You fought back against them as they reached for you, struggling to get away and move further back on the bed. Their hands were cool, like they’d been outside for a while with no gloves. You were sitting up, pushing against them when they reached over and flicked on your lamp. When light flooded the room, your eyes widened.

Peter stood before you, dressed casually in dark clothes and looking completely unharmed. You sharply inhaled, all of your breath leaving you as your lips parted, eyes welling with tears. You blinked a few times, feeling like you might have been dreaming, but Peter remained. You reached out to him with shaking hands, and your vision had started to blur.

“Hey, breathe. Breathe, Y/N,” he softly ordered, brows furrowed.

You did as he said, and your chest burned as you moved closer. You slid off of the bed, moving to stand up, but your legs were unsteady. Peter caught you just as you fell into his arms, wrapping your own around him. You buried your face into his chest, your tears wetting his shirt, and he enveloped you in his arms as he shushed you.

You were shaking so much, and you just couldn’t stop. You couldn’t believe that he was here, and he looked perfectly fine. You sobbed into his chest, and you felt him tighten his arms around you. You clung to him, maneuvering to bury your face into the crook of his neck, feeling guilty about his shirt. You could feel him do the same, his nose brushing against your skin, and he took a long inhale, breathing you in.

“You’re okay,” you blubbered.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m okay,” he whispered.

You pulled away from him, roaming your eyes over him before meeting his own eyes.

“Where...where have you been? Everyone is looking for you,” you softly told him.

“I know,” he replied, looking sheepish.

“We have to call Tony,” you said, reaching for your phone.

Peter stopped you before you could, his hand tight on your wrist, and you found yourself wincing at his harsh grip. You looked at him with a frown, heart skipping a beat at his sudden dark countenance. He swallowed, and your eyes were briefly drawn to the subtle movement in his throat before he eventually let you go.

“I can’t...I can’t go back,” he told you, shaking his head.

Your eyes widened at him, and confusion filled you. What?

“What are...what are you talking about? Everyone is worried sick, more worried than I’ve ever seen them. Peter, they have no idea where you are or if you’re even okay! We should at least tell them-.”

You swallowed the rest of your words as you noticed that he made to leave.

“I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come here-.”

“Wait, wait!”

You grabbed onto the back of his shirt. You weren’t any match for him, but you were thankful that he halted. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, your lips brushing his shoulder as you spoke.

“Stay. Please stay,” you whispered.

His shoulders heaved as he sighed, and you continued.

“I’m sorry, okay? We don’t...we don’t have to tell them anything. If you don’t want to go back that’s fine, but… I’ve been so worried.”

That last part was said so softly, it was a wonder he even heard you. He didn’t say anything, nor did he move for a while, but eventually he turned around, and you let your arms fall. When your eyes met his again, you watched the way they narrowed, forehead creasing just a bit. You didn’t understand why until he reached up to press his fingers to the skin beneath your eyes. You could see the disapproval in his eyes, and all you could offer was a shrug.

“I was so worried.”

Peter blinked, face falling before he pulled you into his arms again. You returned the hug and let your eyes fall closed, just basking in the feel of him. You could hear his heartbeat, so slow...and so faint, something that seemed impossible. You told yourself you were imagining it.

“You’ll stay, right?”

He threw you a small smile when you pulled back to look at him, and you watched the way his dark eyes ran over you, lingering on your neck a tad longer than the rest of you before his eyes met yours again.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

You smiled at him, pulling him towards your bed. You settled in, only just realizing how cold you had gotten, while Peter got in behind you. Your head hit the pillow just as he turned the light out, and you frowned when you noticed that he wasn’t completely laying down. He was on his side, facing you with his head propped up onto his hand.

“You’re not tired?”

His eyes trailed to your window, staring out into the night for a moment before he shook his head.

“No...not really.”

You chuckled.

“So you’re just going to watch me sleep?” you wondered.

He reached towards you with his other hand, brushing his fingers along your neck and collarbone, fingers cool against your warm skin. A shudder passed through you.

“I missed you,” was his only answer, and it made your heart soar.

You knew that he didn’t miss you like you missed him, but it made you happy to hear that nonetheless.

“I missed you too.”

He didn’t respond, and you closed your eyes, the feel of his fingers on your skin oddly soothing. He always made you nervous, but not tonight. You wondered if it was because you had gone without him for so long, unsure if he would ever return. Sleep was just within your reach, but something weighed on your mind that prevented you from grabbing hold of it.

“Why don’t you want to go back?”

Your voice was small in the otherwise quiet room, and when Peter didn’t answer right away, you peeled your eyes open. He had stopped touching you, fingers curling into the covers as his jaw clenched.

“They won’t want me back.”

You frowned, forcing yourself to sit up. You blinked at him a few times, lips parting as you processed what that meant. Why wouldn’t they want him back? Peter was part of the team, one of the most loved members of the team. Said team was practically sick with worry, had been for over a week. Despite the fact that Peter was right in front of you and seemingly safe and sound, worry began to take hold again.

“Why wouldn’t they want you back?”

Your best friend didn’t answer you, and your worry grew, heartbeat picking up. Peter’s eyes were on you now as he sat up too, so focused and intense.

“What happened on your mission, Peter? What happened in Bulgaria?”

Again, Peter didn’t respond, but the minute you moved closer to him, he snatched your arm. Startled, you almost fell over, but his fingers curled around your wrist and pulled you closer, guiding the palm of your hand right to his chest.

Where his heart was.

Again, like before, you noted that his heartbeat was so slow. And even fainter. It was almost nonexistent, and your brows crinkled. You had felt and heard his heartbeat many times before since he’d become Spider-Man, and you knew that this was no effect of the spider bite. You had a hard time wrapping your mind around what you were feeling, and you looked at him again.

“I have...I have to tell you something…”

You fought to keep your worry at bay, noting the way Peter’s voice shook.

“I may even have to show you...but you have to promise me…”

His hand tightened on your wrist, and he released a shaky breath.

“...promise me that you won’t be scared.”

Scared of Peter? He was your best friend, and you couldn’t ever imagine being afraid of him. Still, you felt like he needed this so you nodded.

“Okay.”

Peter’s side of the bed was empty when you woke up, and your heart lurched in a mild panic before you realized why. The sun shone through your window, bathing your room in the warm rays, and you swallowed as you wondered where he could’ve gone.

“I’m right here.”

You snapped your head up to find him standing in the hall, just outside of your doorway. He was out of the sun’s reach, and you slid out of bed to join him. He was watching you like he couldn’t anticipate your next move, and you sent him a smile to reassure him.

“Do you...need anything…?”

You didn’t come right out and say it, but you both knew what you were asking. He studied you for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. I...ate before I came here last night,” he told you.

You nodded and folded your arms over your chest with a long sigh. You could feel his eyes on you as you looked away.

“Look, Peter...I know you're not going to like what I have to say, but…”

You chanced a glance at him and found his dark eyes narrowed at you.

“I think you need to tell Tony.”

He briefly closed his eyes before letting them fall to the ground, hands shoved in his pockets.

“If anyone can help you, he can.”

Peter scoffed, a humorless sound.

“Help me with what? It’s not like he can fix this, Y/N. This goes past Tony Stark and all of his intellect,” he practically spat, frustration coloring his tone. “This is what I am now.”

You grabbed his hands, squeezing them as you moved closer.

“I know, I know. I just meant...maybe he can help you safely get what you need.”

His eyes met yours, albeit reluctantly.

“...and maybe he can help you control your appetite better. That way...that way you won’t hurt anyone else,” you quietly finished, recalling everything he’d told you.

Guilt passed through Peter’s features at the reminder of what he’d done. He closed his eyes, practically squeezing them shut as his shoulders heaved, a small sigh escaping him.

“Maybe...you’re right,” he hesitantly admitted.

You could see the war going on within him when he opened his eyes, conflict and guilt and self-loathing all passing over his face.

“Hey.”

He looked at you.

“You’re still you. You just...your diet’s a little different now, that’s all.”

He cracked a smile, a small chuckle leaving him, and you joined him.

“When the sun goes down, we’ll go to the compound, and...and everything will be okay,” you promised him.

He nodded, and hours later, when the sun was safely behind the horizon, that was what you did. You drove. Peter was still wary of his new strength, strength that far surpassed what he had before. Your wrist was still sore from when he’d grabbed you last night, but you didn’t want him to feel any worse than he already did.

Having called Tony on the way, he was waiting outside when you arrived. As per requested, he was the only one. You didn’t want Peter to get overwhelmed. You weren’t exactly sure of what he was capable of now, neither one of you really were, and you didn’t want to stress him out.

Tony had pulled him into a hug the minute he reached him, and your heart clenched for many reasons. You hoped that you’d made the right decision. Tony loved Peter. He’d help him, right? When he pulled away, the bearded man’s eyes flickered between the two of you with a frown.

“So you’re going to tell me what the hell this is all about?”

Before you could respond, Peter moved to pull him inside.

“It’s a long story, Mr. Stark…”

His voice trailed off as they went inside, and with a small sigh, you eventually followed. Neither one of them were present, and you figured that they went to the lab. You had a feeling that everyone else was there too, or at least not far off. They’d been worried sick and now Peter was back, seemingly unharmed. Of course they’d be concerned and curious.

Wanda was the only one who greeted you, and her eyes were wide as they met yours. They were a bit accusatory, even fearful, and you pursed your lips. She probably didn’t mean to, but it was easy to guess that she’d been inside of Peter’s head. She knew, and there was no telling what she saw. 

“Y/N…?”

You shook your head.

“He’s still him, Wanda. Okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue as you moved past her to go to your room. You didn’t see anyone else the rest of the night, and you knew that they were all caught up with Peter. Figuring out how this happened, running tests, coming up with the best course of action. You were in and out of sleep when you heard Peter come into your room in the early hours of the morning.

He wrapped his arms around you as he slid in behind you, and even though he wasn’t as warm as he used to be, the familiarity of it all immediately relaxed you. You felt him bury his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath as he breathed you in, fingers brushing over the skin of your arms.

“Everything okay?” you mumbled, referring to Tony and the rest of the team.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “He wants me to drink pig’s blood, but yeah. Everything’s okay.”

You chuckled at that, sleep finding you once more as you smiled at Peter’s joke. However, it was the next day when you discovered that he hadn’t been joking at all.

“You’re serious?”

Peter nodded with a frown, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the counter.

“He wants to start weaning me off of human blood and start transitioning to animal blood,” he grumbled.

You noted that he wasn’t happy about that, and your curiosity got the better of you.

“Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily, no,” he sighed. “He thinks it’ll help me. That maybe I’ll...crave human blood less and it’ll lower my chances of losing control around someone.”

You blinked, wondering if you agreed with that.

“I mean, he doesn’t exactly know. This is all just trial and error, right now, because probably for the first time in Mr. Stark’s life, he’s stumped,” Peter said with a shrug. “...but it’s worth a shot.”

You felt like there was more to it, like he wanted to say something else.

“He doesn’t know that I already tried that,” he whispered.

You leaned against the opposite counter, watching as his frown deepened, eyes troubled.

“When I woke up...I felt like I had swallowed fire,” he murmured. “My teeth hurt, my throat burned, and my mind was going a mile a minute. I felt like I was losing it.”

He sounded angry as he glared at the floor.

“The only thing that even smelled slightly appealing was…”

He trailed off, shaking his head, a light chuckle leaving him.

“I must have killed at least 100 animals. Anything I could get my hands on… It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch, only 1,000 times worse. It wasn’t until...it wasn’t until I came across those hikers…”

He swallowed his words, letting his face fall into his hands. You neared him, resting your hand on his arm.

“It was the first time I’d felt okay in days. I could finally freaking think,” he said through clenched teeth, letting his hands fall. “There I was...covered in blood...surrounded by bodies of innocent people...and I was finally at peace.”

You pulled him into a hug as he recounted what he’d already told you. You knew that Peter wouldn’t ever forget that moment, but God, you wanted him to. That wasn’t who he was, you knew it, and you wanted him to know it too. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, nose brushing over the skin, and his hands rested on your waist.

Your conversation with Nat weighed on your heart. Like she’d said, Peter was back, and you could finally tell him, but it didn’t seem appropriate. The man had been attacked and turned into something you thought only existed in books. This was a hard time for him, and it seemed silly to drop one more thing onto him, one more thing that could definitely wait.

“I wouldn’t get too close to him if I were you, Y/N. He might mistake you for a quarter pounder.”

You pulled away just as Bucky’s deep chuckle reached your ears, and you turned to see both him and Sam enter the kitchen. Sam seemed pleased with his little joke.

“You’re not funny,” you told him, completely unamused.

“It’s a little funny,” Bucky disagreed, and you huffed.

You felt Peter pull away, and by the time you looked over your shoulder, he was gone.

“Seriously?”

You threw them an incredulous look, and Sam shrugged.

“Look, we’ve got to find some humor in this okay? The kid’s got fangs and he lives off of blood now,” Sam said like it was the most absurd thing in the world.

Considering that you all were friends with literal Gods and even a woman who controlled the weather, you were inclined to disagree.

“This is hard for him, okay?”

You weren’t sure if they knew the full extent of what he’d done, but you heard Sam sigh, and Bucky at least looked a little sheepish.

“I’m sure he’ll joke about it when he’s ready, but please let him do it in his own time. His whole life has changed...again.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the club,” Bucky sighed.

You rolled your eyes and turned away with a scoff.

“What’d I say?” you heard Bucky ask, but you were already making your way to Peter’s room.

You were surprised that he told you to come in when you knocked, and you slowly stepped inside. He was on his bed, hand behind his head as he scrolled through his phone.

“You okay?”

He let his hand fall, greeting you with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m good. They don’t mean any harm, so I’m not going to let it get to me,” he replied, reaching for you.

You joined him on the bed, laying your head on his shoulder as he told F.R.I.D.A.Y to turn on the tv.

“Want to watch a movie with me? As silly as it seems, all I could think about was curling up with you and watching a movie the whole time I was away,” he confessed.

Your heart fluttered, sure he could hear it, but he didn’t comment on it. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

His hand tightened on your hip as you figured out what movie to put on.

Every day, Peter went to the lab with Tony and Bruce, and every time he returned, he always seemed irritated. You tried not to comment on the harshness of his eyes and tautness of his jaw, but eventually, you had to express your concern.

“It’s nothing,” he told you one day. “They just keep treating me like some science experiment gone wrong.”

He played it off like no big deal, but you could tell that he was genuinely bothered.

“...and its this stupid diet or whatever you can even call it! It’s not working. It’s not satisfying or fulfilling, at all. I can’t taste a damn thing, I’m just drinking to get full? If that’s what you can even call it. It does absolutely nothing to satisfy me or quell this desire…”

He trailed off at your light chuckle. 

“Alright, Edward Cullen.”

He threw you a hard look, and you swallowed your laughs. While he was finally making jokes about the situation himself now, you realized that now was not the time.

“Sorry…”

He heaved a long sigh, turning to stare out of the window.

“You wanna get out of here?” he suddenly asked.

You blinked at him.

“Now?”

He glanced at the clock, and so did you. It was almost 2 in the morning.

“I can’t think of a better time,” he replied.

You chewed on your lip.

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged. “Just for a little bit…”

He hadn’t left the compound in weeks, Tony far too paranoid, and you could see how much he needed this.

“Okay.”

That was how 40 minutes later, you found your car parked near a small pond while you and Peter leaned against it, staring at the full moon. Neither one of you had said anything since you left, and you guessed that Peter was in his thoughts. You couldn’t blame him.

“You know, if I’d been bitten by a werewolf, we’d be having a totally different night, right now.”

You barked a laugh, and he joined you.

“If you were bitten by a werewolf, I’d be trying to play fetch with you,” you replied.

He chuckled again, and the two of you fell into another easy silence. Your eyes narrowed a bit as something weighed on your mind, and you suddenly crossed your arms over your chest.

“Why won’t Tony let you have any human blood? I mean, blood banks exist…”

Peter sighed, a frustrated sound, and you turned to look at him. The cool nightly breeze blew his dark hair around his face, and his jaw clenched.

“He thinks it’ll make me crave it more. Kind of like an addict, you know?”

You shook your head, disagreeing with that.

“...but...it’s not. This is part of your DNA, now, is it not? He shouldn’t be looking at it like a drug but instead like...food. It’s what you need to survive, now,” you explained.

“You’re right...but that’s blood I’d be taking away from people who need it. Besides, it’d be pretty messed up of me to…‘convince’ some stranger to let me drink from them and then alter their memory of the whole thing,” he mumbled.

“That’s right. You did tell me you can do that, now,” you mused.

“I’m pretty sure it’ll come in handy during missions. You know, if I ever go on one again,” he complained.

Your heart hurt for Peter. His entire life had been turned on its head again. He couldn’t go on missions, couldn’t even see his aunt, and on top of it all, he couldn’t even satisfy the craving his body had for what it actually needed. You pursed your lips and glanced at him again. You were positive he noticed before, but this time he commented on it.

“What?”

You glanced away from him, heart speeding up a bit as you wrung your hands together.

“What about me?”

He didn’t respond right away, and when you looked at him again, his eyes were on you. They were narrowed, hard, but you could see the spark of something in them that gave you hope that maybe this wasn’t such a horrible idea after all. Peter’s lips parted, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight before he snapped his mouth shut. He cleared his throat.

“You...you would do that?”

“Of course,” you said with a frown, turning your body completely to face him. “This is what you need, and you’re my best friend, and I’m willing. So you don’t have to let your morals get in the way.”

Peter stared at you for what seemed like a long time, eyes roaming over every inch of you. You watched as he swallowed, the conflict written all over his face. You could see that he was scared, afraid that he’d hurt you, but you could also see the fire in his eyes, the desire to take you up on your offer.

“Worst case scenario-.”

“You die?”

You rolled your eyes at him, stepping closer.

“You won’t let me die, Peter. We both know it,” you whispered, pushing your sleeve up and holding your arm out.

Peter’s dark eyes snapped to the bared skin, no doubt tracing the veins that you couldn’t see. Hesitantly, he grabbed your wrist, taking a deep breath before slowly lifting your arm as he bent his head. His breath, like everything else about him now, was cool against your skin. You watched as he closed his eyes, dark lashes contrasting against his fair skin, before opening his mouth. You barely got a glimpse of his sharp canines in all of their glory before they were sinking into your arm.

The reaction from you both was instantaneous. 

A loud gasp escaped you, but not from pain. No. Your body heated up like never before, blood on fire as Peter let out an equally loud groan. An addicting sense of euphoria descended over you, and you felt your legs shaking, lashes fluttering as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Sensing this, Peter reached out with his free hand and tangled it within your hair, pulling you closer until your head leaned against his shoulder.

You could feel him moving forward, and he didn’t stop until your back was against your car. His hand tightened in your hair, almost painfully, but all you let out was a moan, your breath choppy and lips trembling as he pressed his leg in between yours. Your free hand clutched his jacket, attempting to pull him closer, and a low moan escaped his own throat as he pushed his thigh more firmly against your now heated core.

You faintly noted that this was a lot more erotic than you anticipated, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. He was still pressing your head to his shoulder, and your lips brushed the fabric of his jacket as you murmured his name.

“Peter...Peter…”

You couldn’t tell if you were asking him to stop or not, but considering this was the best high you’d ever been on, you concluded that you were not. Suddenly, all too soon, Peter practically ripped himself away from you, and you would’ve fallen to the ground if he hadn’t caught you. Your chest was heaving, so was his, and when you peeled your eyes open, his own wide ones were focused on you.

“Shit,” he cursed, looking like he was seconds away from getting in trouble. “Shit, shit, shit. I shouldn’t have done that. Mr. Stark is going to kill me…”

“Hey...it’s okay,” you panted, weakly reaching up to brush a dark strand out of his face. “I’m okay. How do you feel?”

He seemed stumped by the question, and he suddenly blinked, brows drawn together as he stared down at you. His lips were stained with your blood.

“I...haven’t felt this satisfied in weeks,” he whispered, looking at you strangely.

You weakly chuckled, eyes fluttering closed.

“Good.”

You had only been seconds away from falling when he caught you, and he finally straightened as he lifted you into his arms. You could feel yourself on the verge of sleep...or was it the verge of death? Either way, you were happy that Peter was happy. He gently deposited you into the passenger’s seat, strapping you into place. Your head lolled as he shut the door, facing him as he settled behind the wheel.

You could feel his eyes on you, and with difficulty, you opened yours again. He was staring at you with that look again, and you were sure he thought you crazy for putting your life in danger like that. The car was quiet, just the sound of your shallow breathing could be heard, and you thought to yourself that you kind of wanted to tell him you loved him. However, before you could, Peter leaned over and pressed his blood-stained lips to yours.

It was quick and soft, just the barest of touches, but it made your eyes widen nonetheless. You stared at him as he sat back and started the car, and you wanted to keep staring at him, wanted to ask him what the hell was that, but sleep finally got to you before you could.

It was days before you finally discussed what had happened, and that was only because it was days before Peter needed to “feed” again.

“I think I can go longer without when it’s human blood...because it’s what actually satisfies me. What my body needs,” he murmured one night while you were watching a movie you’d both seen a million times.

“That’s a good thing. Surely Tony will see that this is the best thing to do. This is what will keep you in control and allow you to go on missions again...see your aunt May…”

You had decided to keep what happened between the two of you, but you didn’t exactly feel right about it. Peter sighed and shook his head.

“No. I think he’d send me away,” he quietly told you.

You quickly moved your head to look up at him, your cheek on his chest as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s been doing research, trying to find others like me. I think he has. I overheard him talking to the captain and Sam one day. He’s thinking about sending me somewhere I can learn to control my thirst and utilize my new…abilities or whatever,” he grumbled.

You fully sat up now, looking down at him with a stricken expression. His eyes finally moved away from the screen, and he smiled at you, rubbing your back in a soothing manner. 

“I’m not going to let him send me away, Y/N, but he’ll definitely try if we tell him what happened.”

You nodded, forcing your heart to slow before you laid back down. Peter’s hand was still on your back, tracing patterns into your, well, his shirt. You listened to his slow heartbeat, the organ pumping what was left of your blood through his body. Your lashes fluttered when he dragged his fingers up to your neck, the appendages playing with the hair there. You found yourself humming when he tightened his hold there, and you looked up in confusion, prepared to ask him what he was doing when his other hand gripped your arm, and he pulled you up.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was nothing like the first one. You gasped against his mouth, and he wasted no time before taking the opportunity to taste the inside of yours. Peter moaned into the kiss, circling both arms around you now as he rolled the both of you over. He settled himself between your parted legs, and you sharply inhaled at the bulge you felt there.

Peter’s hand traveled to your neck again, grasping the hair at the nape, holding you in place as he dragged his mouth down. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he bit you, throwing your hands out to grasp anything you could. Your right hand hit the lamp on the nightstand, and it fell to the floor with a soft crash. Peter’s other hand pressed into your back, forcing you to arch your chest into his.

His hips were rolling into yours, his clothed member pressing against the most sensitive part of you so deliciously. You let out a soft moan, one hand clawing at his shirt, pushing the fabric up to drag your nails along his back. Peter had you completely pinned in between him and the mattress, every curve of his hips sending pleasure through you.

“Peter,” you moaned, reaching up to drag your hand along the headboard. “Fuck, Peter.”

You could feel your blood crawling past your neck, staining his sheets, but he didn’t seem to care. The bed shook a bit from his movements, and you hooked one leg on his waist as he continued to grind into you. You could feel yourself fading, and you welcomed it, and before you could, one particularly slow roll of his hips sent you over the edge.

You were a moaning mess as you came beneath him, his teeth still embedded in your neck. Your whole body shook, legs practically vibrating as they fell around him, chest heaving as he finally pulled away. He licked at your neck, and your arms fell to the bed, soft murmurs leaving your lips to which Peter chuckled at. He brushed his thumb over your lip before leaning back down, lips grazing your ear.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You did, he was, and he greeted you with a kiss, further filling you with confusion as you wondered just what you were. You didn’t want to ruin it, didn’t want to break the spell by trying to make him define this. You simply wanted to enjoy whatever this was, and enjoy it you did.

Every few days or so, you found yourself squirming beneath Peter one way or another. Sometimes he simply pressed kisses along your neck as he rolled his hips into yours, sometimes his teeth were in you, and sometimes his fingers were in you, the sound of it so loud as he thrust them in and out of your fluttering core. The rest of the team was none the wiser as you both satisfied each other in more ways than one. It was usually in the dead of night when everyone else was asleep, and Peter was wide awake.

“Ngh, Peter,” you panted, fingers twisted into his dark locks.

You were completely naked before him, a first, as he swiped his tongue over your wet folds, another first. His own fingers were pressed into your thighs, holding them down in a way that hurt so good. The cool air hit the bite mark on the inside of your left thigh, and you hissed as Peter slid his tongue past your slick walls, tasting every inch of you that he could.

A thin layer of sweat covered your frame, and you realized that you lost track of how long Peter had been alternating between tasting your blood and tasting your lips. His mouth completely covered you, and you shuddered when he sucked on your little bundle of nerves, sharp teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

You could feel your...3rd? 4th? Or was it the 5th climax of the night that you felt approaching? You were so tired, but Peter didn’t seem to have gotten his fill of you, and his lips kissed along your mound before traveling to the space in the crease of your thigh before he swiped his tongue over your thigh itself, the unmarked one. It was dark in the room, and when Peter glanced up at you, dark promises in his eyes, you noted that they almost seemed to glow in the dark, like that of a feline.

He wasted no time before sinking his teeth into your skin again, and you pressed your hand to your mouth to keep from making too much noise. You knew that he’d ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y to soundproof the room, but it was a force of habit by now. Your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, and that was how you fell asleep that night, with Peter’s face in between your legs, drinking from you in any way he saw fit.

“Look who decided to grace us with her presence,” Bucky sarcastically greeted as you walked into the kitchen the next morning.

Steve threw you a sheepish smile, visibly sorry on Bucky’s behalf for his behavior.

“Cut it out, Buck.”

“I’m just acknowledging that the princess has been holed up in her room more often than not as of late. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you went home, but I noticed that you’re still eating my cereal, the only other person who eats the kind I like, so…”

You rolled your eyes as he trailed off, and he reached out to pull on your shirt as you neared.

“What’s with the turtleneck, squirt? I know it’s freezing outside, but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s 77 degrees in here.”

You tensed at his words, and you ignored the way Steve eyed you over his mug.

“I just think I’m coming down with something is all. I’m a little chillier than usual today,” you lied.

He simply hummed, and that was when you finally noticed his attire. Steve too.

“Are you guys going on a mission?”

“You’d know the answer to that if you actually left your room once in a while,” Bucky grumbled, and Steve lightly shoved his shoulder.

“Yeah, the whole team’s heading out. Well...except…” Steve trailed off, and you nodded. “...but Nat and Sam are supposed to be returning from their assignment today, so they’ll be back later.”

You nodded at Steve’s words, not quite liking the way that he was studying you. You hurriedly poured your own cup of coffee, quietly telling them to “be safe” before moving to get out of Steve’s watchful eye.

Hours later found you and Peter on the couch, hardly paying any attention to the movie before you. You had the compound to yourselves, something you looked forward to, but Peter had other ideas than that of what you were thinking.

“You want to...leave?”

You frowned at him, unsure that you heard him right. Peter was facing you with his elbow on the back of the couch, propping his head up as his other hand traced your collarbone.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Mr. Stark...I think he’s getting serious about sending me away for a while. I think he suspects us, but I’m not sure.”

You mulled over his suggestion, unsure of how you felt about it.

“They couldn’t even find me last time. I’d make sure they’d never find us,” he told you.

“I...I don’t know. I mean, I love you, but I’d miss everyone else,” you replied.

When you looked to him, he looked surprised, and his lips parted as he blinked at you.

“...what?”

Your brows drew together.

“What?”

He scooted closer, a slow grin forming on his pink lips.

“You love me?”

You scoffed at him.

“Of course. Peter, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember,” you finally confessed.

You thought that it would’ve been obvious by now, but Peter just looked as if you told him he’d won a million dollars. Before you could register it, he reached out to pull you into a kiss. It was passionate and full of yearning...and hungry. You wrapped your arms around his neck and moved closer, Peter’s hand pressing into the small of your back. His lips trailed from your own down to your jaw, pressing kisses there and to your neck. You’d changed shirts as soon as everyone had left.

You knew what he wanted, what he needed, and you welcomed it as he pressed his teeth into your skin. A breathy moan climbed out of your throat as he laid you down. Your heart was going haywire in your chest, the realization that Peter returned your feelings finally hitting you. His hands ran over you, brushing over your breasts and down your sides before he hooked them underneath your thighs.

He pressed his bloody lips to your décolletage, nipping at the skin there before they grazed the swell of your breasts. He bit into the flesh that spilled over the top of your shirt, and you trembled beneath him, a loud moan escaping you. He growled into your skin, fingers pressing into your thighs almost painfully. You weren’t sure how long you remained beneath him, lashes fluttering and lips parted as ecstasy clouded your mind, but eventually, you felt yourself fading in a way you had never felt before.

Your vision blurred, and you could feel your heart starting to slow.

“Peter,” you worriedly murmured.

He seemed preoccupied with releasing himself from his jeans, fingers brushing over you as he reached underneath your skirt. You opened your mouth to protest, but all that came out was a choked sound, the sound transforming into a breathy gasp when he thrust into you.

“Peter,” you weakly called.

You could feel yourself fading fast, and Peter’s own breath was harsh as he drank from you, snapping his hips into yours with every thrust. You could faintly hear a door opening, and you wanted to warn him, but you could hardly move, let alone speak. Darkness creeped along the edge of your vision, and the last thing you heard before going under was a feminine scream.

You knew that you were in the infirmary before you even opened your eyes. The steady beep of the monitor next to you told you that whatever condition you had been in was pretty serious. You struggled to open them, but when your eyes finally peeled open, you noticed that the room was empty.

“Ms. Y/L/N, you’re awake,” F.R.I.D.A.Y noted. “I will inform Mr. Stark immediately.”

You cringed, squeezing your eyes shut at the mention of the last superhero you wanted to see. You just knew that you were going to get an earful, and you didn’t really care to hear it. You just wanted to know where Peter was and if he was okay.

Tony burst through the doors a lot sooner than you would have liked, and you avoided his eye. He didn’t say anything, and you knew that he was angry, because when did Tony Stark ever have absolutely nothing to say?

“Are you insane?” he finally wondered, and you sighed.

“Where’s Peter?”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he snapped, and you finally looked at him as he stomped towards your bed. “You could’ve died.”

You shrank underneath his cold stare and harsh words, glancing away.

“Do you get that, Y/N? When Nat and Sam got here…”

He trailed off, face reddening as he was no doubt recalling what he’d been told, probably what he’d even seen thanks to F.R.I.D.A.Y. You watched as he swallowed, releasing a breath.

“Any later, and you would’ve been dead,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” you quietly told him. “I just wanted to help him.”

He heaved a long sigh, a tired and exasperated sound.

“I know you love him…”

You frowned at that, wondering if the whole damn team knew.

“...but he needs help from people who can help him. Help him to control himself, hone his new skills, help him so that he doesn’t kill you,” Tony finished, and you blinked back tears. “Go home and let us handle Peter. When the time is right, he’ll be able to see you again.”

The tears finally spilled over, and with a shake of his head, Tony left you. After a few more days in the infirmary, and several blood transfusions later, you did as Tony instructed. It felt strange to be back home after spending nearly 2 months at the compound with Peter. As you entered your room, sitting on your bed, you felt silly.

Tony had been right. You had almost died. You recalled the feel of your life literally slipping away as Peter drank from you, too lost in the taste and feel of you to notice that he was losing control. You had only wanted to help him, and you had ended up making things worse. Was Tony right to treat it like an addiction? Had you hindered Peter more than you helped him? You didn’t know. All you knew was that your actions almost led to your death at Peter’s hand, and that Tony’s actions had not.

You didn’t know where Peter was, but you had faith that he was alright. You hoped that Tony didn’t give him too hard of a time for what he’d done, but you knew that was unlikely. Nat, poor Nat, had literally walked in on him feeding from you and fucking you. There was no telling what the poor woman thought, and you hated the idea of them treating Peter like some wild animal that needed to be caged.

It was 3 nights later when you woke up to the feel of fingers ghosting over the side of your face as you slept. It took you a moment to register what was happening, but when you blinked your eyes open, you were surprised to come face to face with Peter as he stood over you.

“P-Peter?” 

You struggled to sit up, and you rubbed your eyes, noting the way his own dark ones lingered on your neck. 

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re getting out of here. C’mon,” he said, reaching for you.

You frowned at him, and you watched his own face fall.

“I don’t...I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you honestly told him.

He frowned at you, and guilt tore through you for more reasons than one.

“Don’t listen to Mr. Stark-.”

“Maybe I should’ve. Maybe...maybe he knew what he was talking about,” you said, cutting him off.

His hand fell to his side, and his dark eyes narrowed on you.

“You’re afraid of me,” he murmured.

“No! No...not really-.”

He cut you off with an angry sigh, and you folded your arms over your chest.

“I almost died, Peter!”

You watched the conflict on his features, brows furrowing ever so slightly.

“...and you would’ve never forgiven yourself...and I feel like it’s my fault…”

Peter stood over you, dressed plainly but darkly, chocolate locks kissing his forehead as he stared at you. He didn’t look happy.

“So you’re taking his side,” he surmised. 

“I just think you should hear him out,” you whispered. “We tried it our way...and look what happened.”

He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. You sat there, and he stood there, both of you just staring at each other. You watched the way Peter’s jaw clenched, and he suddenly reached out to tangle his fingers in your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he neared. You pressed your hands against his chest, but Peter forced his way onto your bed, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of you as he moved his mouth against yours.

“Mm, Peter,” you protested, turning your head away.

“They think I raped you, you know,” he quietly said, the loud sound of tearing fabric filling the room as he ripped your t-shirt straight down the middle.

Your eyes went wide at his words, and he chuckled, the corner of his lips quirking upwards into a smirk.

“Oh, yeah. They think I coerced you with my new abilities or even just flat out bit you and took you anyway I saw fit,” he whispered.

The irony of the situation was not lost on you, and you desperately fought against him. Your underwear was next, and you were no match against Peter’s newfound strength as he batted your hands away, moving to remove his own clothes.

“They don’t know that I had you squirming beneath me, purring and mewling like a desperate kitten.”

His voice was husky, thick with the desire to sink both his teeth and cock into you. He gripped your legs, separating them like it was nothing despite your efforts to keep them closed.

“They think that you’re bad for me…”

It was embarrassingly easy for him to slide into you, your velvet walls giving him a wet welcome. He sighed out as he pressed into you, dark eyes somehow darker.

“...they think I’ve formed some supernatural bond with you, some kind of blood tie…”

A choked moan slipped past your lips as he started to thrust into you, and Peter leaned down to press kisses to the corner of your mouth.

“...and they might be right, but it only cements what we both know.”

His hands pressed into the sheets beside your head, his labored breathing reaching your ears as he pulled back and snapped his hips into yours again and again. Your head was spinning from the way he dragged his cock through your clenching walls, completely unrelenting in his pace. While this technically wasn’t the first time he fucked you, it was the first time you were coherent enough to truly feel what was happening.

“Peter,” you murmured.

His nose brushed against yours with every thrust, and he released a shaky breath.

“...and what do we both know?”

There was a desperation in his eyes that took you by surprise, and your heart clenched.

“Say it...for me…”

You swallowed, lashes fluttering as he slowed down his thrusts.

“I’m yours.”

His own eyes fell closed at the admission, slowly sinking himself into you, basking in the feel of you wrapped around him.

“You gave me your blood...your body…”

He leaned down to trail kisses along your neck, rolling his hips against yours.

“...and you’ll give me your soul. You’re mine in every way a woman possibly can be. In every way a human can be,” he purred, sharp teeth grazing over your warm flesh.

His words made your stomach flutter, walls clenching around him, and just then, your phone buzzed. Like that first night, it was in your sheets somewhere, and the continuous buzzing told you that it was a phone call. You had a guess as to who it could be and what they wanted.

They were looking for Peter.

You looked to him when he paused, watching as his face darkened. He wrapped his hand around your noisy phone before throwing it at the wall, the device shattering upon impact. His dark eyes met yours again, and he kissed you, stealing your breath away as he moved within you again.

“They want to know if I’m with you...if you’re safe…”

You could feel him smiling against your lips, and your nails pressed into his sides, hanging on as he pushed his knees beneath your thighs, widening your legs and forcing a guttural moan from you.

“They think you’re in danger around me...and they’re probably right, but not the kind of danger they’re thinking of.”

One of his hands fisted itself into your hair, pulling your head back, baring your throat to him, and you knew what was coming.

“You don’t know how much I fought with myself that first night...how badly I wanted to tear into you anyway I could,” he whispered, voice strained. “You were all I thought about when I was attacked...when I changed…”

His hips sped up, the sound of slapping skin filling the room as he pistoned into you.

“For your sake, I’m glad you gave yourself to me, because I planned to take you from the very moment I stepped into your bedroom.”

His teeth pressed into your neck, breaking the skin, and your climax washed over you, euphoria clouding your mind and senses as Peter drank from you. His thrusts didn’t stop, and one hand pressed into the headboard above you, blood staining your pillow as the bed shook from the movement of his thrusts. You knew that Peter was far from done for the night, finally claiming what he felt was rightfully his.

~

tags:  @darkficreposter​ @xoxabs88xox​​​​​​ @harryspet​​​​​​ @readermia​​​​​​ @opheliadawnwalker3​​​​​ @nickyl316h​​​​​​ @captainchrisstan​​​​​​ @sebabestianstan101​​​​​​ @villanellevi​​​​​​ @lokislastlove​​​​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​​​​ @coconutqueen21​​​​​​ @hurricanerin​​​​​ ​​​ @hyoyeoniie​​​​​ @kellyn1604​​​​​ @sherrybaby14​​​​​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​​​​ @mandiiblanche​​​​ @gotnofucks​​​​ @oneoftheprettynerds​​​​ @doozywoozy​​​​ @sapphirescrolls​​​​ @threeminutesoflife​​​​ @searchforanotherway​​​​ @mcudarklibrary​​​ @ksjksjkv​ @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing xiv.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 690

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello!!!! we’re here at fourteen chapters omg ✨✨when i first started this series it was mostly self-indulgent and now there are people who actually enjoy reading it??🥺 it almost doesn’t seem real T.T 

thank you so much for the love and support!!! just so I don't give too much spoilers for this chap - I apologise to my fellow geminis for the potential slander 🤣 this is more of a self-drag lmaooo 

anyway, I hope you enjoy this chap!!!

“Ah. I’m getting allergies.” Yena sniffs, scrunching her nose.

You furrow your brows in concern, “Are you okay? Do you need any medicine?”

“It’s just the seasonal changes,” She brushes you off.

You nod in understanding, “I get it. My mom has horrible reactions towards pollen so—”

“I’m not allergic to flowers.” She blinks.

“Then what—?”

“It’s Gemini season. It’s like—literally the worst time of the year.” She blinks.

You gawk at her, taking a whole ten seconds to process her serious tone when she doesn’t waver under your scrutiny.

“I’m a Gemini,” You inform her slowly.

“I mean …” She shrugs all as you scowl at her, opting to throw the closest object you had, which was your favourite pen so you decide against it; simply shooting her the meanest glare you could possibly muster.

“Look, it’s not you,” She sighs, and you’re half-expecting her to finish with an it’s me to make you scoff, “It’s me.” And there you go. “I mean, it’s Gemini’s in general because they’re two-faced bitches who have the worst emotional attachment issues. Like they’re literally what the opposite of glue is. And they’re so over-analytical. How is it like psychoanalysing every person you meet only to hurt your own feelings and sulk about it?”

You blink.

“I mean it’s not you but if the shoe fits.” She says casually, plopping a grape into her mouth that you’re tempted to slap away.

“You’re so mean!” You pout indignantly.

She cackles, throwing her head back as you continue to sulk. You weren’t that bad. You just … you were risk-averse! You liked having the freedom to observe everyone and anyone and package them into tiny compartments in your head so you could understand them better. You weren’t … that Gemini.

“You’re so cute,” She coos pinching your cheeks. “No wonder Beef One and Beef Two like you so much.” She teases.

Your first reaction is to blush because you know who exactly she’s talking about, but you have more pressing matters, like—

“You have nicknames for them?” You ask, baffled.

“Hey, I wasn’t friends with many girls in high school. Don’t girls usually have nicknames for their crushes?” She says through a pout.

You stay expressionless as you try to gauge the level of seriousness you can extract from her tone.

You realise she’s dead serious.

“Yeah, but we’re in college,” You argue, scrunching your nose, “And sides’, it’s not like they’re strangers. We know them.”

She rolls her eyes, waving you off like you were the inconvenience here. Then she leans forward, her eyes twinkling as she takes a complete one-eighty that you try to adjust to.

“So … you Gemini hoe, what’s your plans?” She nudges you.

You raise a brow, “Did you just call me a—?”

“Plans, ___. Stay on track.” She scolds.

You sigh, still fond but you pretend to be annoyed. You really couldn’t get annoyed with Yena. After all, the more time you spend with her the more you realise how much life sucked before you had her in your life. You spent each moment learning more about her quirks and habits, her choice of words that made you giggle or laugh until you were crying.

And you realise that this is how she loves, a little rough but welcomed nonetheless.

“If you’re talking about my birthday then … not much. I’m probably stuck doing admin work for the college’s charity programme.” You shrug, stabbing a fork into your soiled salad.

Yena gapes at you, “Not much—excuse me? It’s your birthday! You’re turning twenty-five!” 

You look at her dryly, “I’ve been twenty-five since the year—”

She groans, “That’s not the same! You’re like—officially twenty-five. You’re literally hitting the mark for a quarter-life crisis. Isn’t that something to celebrate?” 

“Me going through an existential crisis at the end of my degree is not how I want to celebrate my birthday but okay,” You blink.

She rolls her eyes at your realism.

“That’s not the point. Point is, this is our first birthday together and I want it to be special.” She points out.

You snort, “What? Are we doubling my birthday as our monthsary or something?”

She shoves you with a brute force that has you snickering but she continues to pester you anyway.

“You’re so dumb. So smart, but so dumb,” She shakes her head, “You’re always studying or doing some form of work that requires the use of more than one brain cell. You deserve a break. Besides, you have two dudes to pick from on how you’d like to be wined and dined and—”

“Yena!” You whine.

“—it’ll be like an episode of the Bachelorette! But just with a super cool and smart best friend that’ll make the decision for you. It’s not your birthday. It’s ours.” She emphasises towards the end.

You stare at her for a long second, before the two of you are bursting into laughter at the absurdity of her statement. 

It was nice, just to laugh about things without having your heart feel so heavy. Even if it was a mild distraction, it was still wholly pleasant to be able to just talk about mindless things that didn’t require much mental gymnastics to navigate the conversation with.

“What are the two of you laughing about?” Taehyung and Jimin arrive at impeccable timing, sliding into the booth with their own packaged food. It’s very college-student-esque, a cute paper (because no plastic) container filled with an array of assortments.

“None of your XY chromosomes business.” Yena retorts.

Jimin blinks, “You are literally so hostile.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to be.” She sticks her tongue out petulantly.

You laugh, nudging her with your shoulder, “Be nice.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes but manages to keep a civil smile on his face. Always the more rational one between the two. 

“Anyway, Yena definitely isn’t going to answer me so, what’s up?” He turns to look at you.

You roll your eyes but it’s half-hearted, “She wants to celebrate my birthday like we’re on the Bachelorette.”

“Like you’re on the Bachelorette.” She corrects.

“Oh my God, our baby’s turning twenty-five!” Jimin coos at the reminder, pinching your cheeks as he coddles you. You scowl and weakly shove him away, even if you preen under the attention.

“I’m literally older than the both of you.” You huff.

Yena blinks, “There’s no way I’m the oldest person at this table.”

Taehyung furrows his brows, “Wait—how old are you?”

She sends him a scathing glare that has his arms raised up in defence.

“Jeez, okay. Don’t answer.”

“I’m going to answer because you told me not to.” She clips. “I’m twenty-seven.”

Jimin blinks, “No wonder you and Yoongi hyung are so alike.”

You almost miss it, but as Yena so eloquently pointed out, you were a sucker for psychoanalysing people (even if you didn’t want to admit it yet) that you notice the way she flushes ever so slightly as she scoffs.

“Him? How dare you compare me to that sorry excuse of a—!”

“Okay, everyone is beneath you. I’m sorry your highness.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

You make a note to ask her about it because you know for a fact that Yoongi ‘complains’ about Yena every hour he can. It’s almost as if he can’t go long enough without mentioning her.

You smile to yourself as you duck your head.

“Exactly,” She flips her hair over her shoulders before turning to face you. “Anyway, back to you—our baby.”

Taehyung nods, “Exactly, the baby.”

You scrunch your nose, “Don’t coddle me.”

He pats your head before cooing at you like he would to an actual baby, “But you’re just so cute. You’re too good for this shitty world. Too good for the likes of mere mortals like us.”

“Not me.” Yena blinks before gesturing to their bodies, “You.”

Jimin sticks his tongue out in retaliation as you sigh at their never-ending bickering.

Somehow … it felt right. You think it most of the times but you don’t know any other way to describe how it feels to be back with your friends, laughing, bickering and just appreciating their presence.

When you and Jungkook had your issues, it was like you made the conscious choice to avoid everyone and anyone as much as you could, and any interaction you had during that period was purely out of coincidences and not the intention. You remember actively avoiding Jimin and Taehyung because it felt too draining to pretend like you didn’t have a battle in your head. Even studying or spending time with Namjoon made you feel guilty, the thought of Jungkook lingering in your mind. Yena was there through it all, but even then you saw her as much as you did with any of your classmates you so happened to share a class with.

In fact, if it weren’t for Yena you’d probably have zero social interactions as a whole because she just knew. She somehow picked up on your internal conflicts but never outwardly shamed you or confronted you about it. All she did was be there for you, offering you her presence and you were grateful.

So, yeah. Things were better, but your heart was still at its core—confused. Your feelings for Jungkook didn’t disappear overnight and you knew that you were the one that asked for space.

You forgave him … you did, honestly. But there are things you can’t forget, and those are the things that you wished you could. The words he said in principle, was outright shitty. But the fact that it came from him only poked at every single one of your insecurities that you developed over the years.

You knew it wasn’t healthy to compare yourself to other women when they were living vastly different lives than you were, but it’s proven difficult when you’re forced to see these type of women every day, at college, in your community work or on the media. 

Believing Jungkook’s apparent feelings for you was harder because, well. Jungkook was Jungkook. He wasn’t just another guy, and despite his shortcomings, he had more merits than he’d let on and you knew that people saw that. It was also the fact that Jungkook had a charm that drew all types of people in. He was soft-spoken but passionate, and people loved a quiet achiever.

You … knew about the women. Way before Jennie and way before the thing between the two of you happened. Jimin and Taehyung would always update you about the new fling or girl he had tied to his hip just as he was in his final year in high school. You had to force a smile every single time they’d snicker and joke about how your Jungkook suddenly became a man overnight.

And you noticed the trend with the women he liked. They were … captivating. Beautiful wasn’t even enough to describe them because they looked like they could carry the world on their shoulders and spark immense change with just the movement of their lips. They were confident and charismatic, outgoing and just the right amount of flirty. You were anything but.

It sucked, majorly, because you spent years agonising over the fact that you were already coined with the older sister title in the group because of the way you acted—just a little more uptight than the average woman your age. You were quiet but loud in the right company; you didn’t like crowds, socialising or mingling around with people you didn’t know and based on your observations it seemed like that was the only thing that Jungkook’s been doing ever since he made it to senior year in high school, and even in the first years of college.

You don’t resent him, you think. You couldn’t blame him because you weren’t honest either. You consented, to all of the kisses and touches even if he hadn’t officially had sex with you. You wanted to, but you were terrified. Not at the prospect of penetration but at the prospect of not being enough and the fact that Jungkook was the only person you wanted to have sex with while he had options that were far more attractive and experienced than you were.

That’s why you needed time because at least you could get your shit together even if it was an uphill battle.

“Earth to ____?” Taehyung waves a hand in front of your face with a concerned expression.

You blink, snapping out of your daze as you offer a meek smile and an apology.

“We just asked you if you wanted a small get together at Tae’s and I’s place for your birthday?” Jimin asks.

“Really?” You beam. That was exactly what you preferred.

“Yeah, we know you don’t like clubs and stuff. Just a small and intimate gathering with all your best buds.” He grins.

You nod your head, but Yena beats you to a response.

“By best buds you mean the three friends she has, which is us and the two meatheads duelling for her affection.” She snorts.

You flush, “Y-Yena!”

Taehyung snickers at your embarrassment.

“It doesn’t help that both of them are literally the biggest dudes on the football team. It’s literally like watching King Kong and Godzilla getting into a fight for world domination.”

Jimin throws his back in laughter as you fold your arms across your chest at post at the way your friends are practically crying in laughter at the image. Jimin was clutching onto Taehyung for his dear life because if he didn’t then he’d fall off the chair.

“Stop,” You whine, “you guys are being mean.”

“Oh my God, you’re literally the only person on this earth that would take two people fighting for your attention as an offence.” Taehyung groans.

“I-It’s not that!” You deny exasperatedly, “I-It’s just … awkward …”

Jimin sighs with a small smile, patting your head.

“If it’s any consolation I think it’s offensive that Jungkook thinks he even has the right to breathe in—”

“Jimin!”

“Wow. It really is like King Kong and Godzilla.” Jimin whistles lowly, eyeing the scene before him with amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Do you think they’re gonna start slamming their chests soon or …?” Taehyung trails off in a whisper, leaning into Jimin so that the two other men wouldn’t notice.

“I can literally hear you.” You say dryly.

Jimin offers you a plastic smile, “You’re meant to hear us, babe. How about you try to tame them like Jane did with Tarzan?”

Jimin nearly shrieks when you shove him so fiercely that he topples over into Taehyung’s grasp as the second part of the duo only catches him in the process. 

You sigh, completely ignoring the way that Jimin’s muttering curses that were directed to you under his breath. Instead, you were transfixed on the scene before you—which specifically is Jungkook and Namjoon staring each other down through the mirror of the gym. You were lucky that it was just the five of you since Namjoon was able to use his captain privileges to book the gym because you had no idea how to explain the fact that two big-sized men were attempting to outdo each other in their circuit reps as if they were on a suicide mission.

“Listen, when I agreed to help you out with your sets I thought I was meant to help log it in for a report.” You exasperate, but the two men continue their manly lift-off as they huff and puff their exertion away.

“Trust me, you are helping. Being the motivation is more than—”

This time it’s Taehyung who faces your wrath as you thwack him upside the head. 

From where Jungkook and Namjoon were, Jungkook can only deliver death stares into the direction of his captain who returns it tenfold. He wasn’t even sure why they were doing this but something a flicked definitely switched in Jungkook when Namjoon (purposefully) revealed that you were helping out with something. At the gym. Supposedly alone.

Jungkook’s primitive side came out because the next thing Namjoon knew was that Jungkook managed to drag himself, and Jimin and Taehyung as a diversion. He still feels his chest swell with pride when recalling the scowl on Namjoon’s face when he entered the gym, all fake smiles and a pep in his step.

“____, could you help me spot?” Namjoon breathes, sitting up from whatever the hell he was doing with the barbell. You weren’t fixated with gym language and you weren’t even sure why he was asking you when there was an entire Jimin and Taehyung right next to you.

“Uh, okay sure—“

“Noona,” Jungkook calls.

You freeze.

“Jungkook … I thought we established that you don’t need to call me that anymore.” You raise an eyebrow.

You miss the obvious glare that Namjoon shoots his bitchass friend, as well as the snorts that leave Jimin and Taehyung’s mouth.

“Pay attention to me,” Jungkook pouts. Like, actually pouts. You somehow flush because he seemed so much like the younger version of Jungkook who used to always coddle you for attention.

“Okay but after I help—”

“Yeah. After she helps me.” Namjoon interjects, and you nearly jump at the way he’s suddenly behind you, more so—pressed against your back with his hands on your hips as he moves you aside to get to another piece of equipment.

Your breath hitches because while you weren’t exactly invested in Namjoon in the romantic sense, he was undeniably attractive and … big. You could salivate in private.

“Oh my God, do you see that?” Taehyung hisses in a hushed whisper.

“Hyung is petty,” Jimin gawks.

“This is Namjoon we’re talking about. Didn’t he steal all the umbrellas from your dorm because you ratted him out to the librarian when he broke a bookshelf?” Taehyung recalls.

Jimin pauses to retract his mind to that moment.

“He’s so petty and I’m living for it. Look at Kook’s face,” He snickers, nudging Taehyung with his shoulder.

Jungkook only can clench his jaw in return because he knew that you wouldn’t be a fan of him reaching out to strangle the shit out of Namjoon. But the older boy seems fine, if not pleased with how Jungkook’s fuming in his own spot.

“Let me just …” You cock a thumb to Namjoon, before releasing a breath of your own and going to help him with whatever he needed in the first place.

“Jimin can help him. I have a more pressing problem.” He complains.

You stop in your tracks before turning around, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook who finally sits up, still staring at you like you held all the solutions in the world.

“Literally wait for your turn,” Namjoon scowls.

“My arm hurts,” Jungkook says, raising his arm to show you. 

“I don’t … see anything?” You furrow your brows.

“Because my muscles hurt, Noona,” Jungkook emphasises with a flex of his bicep and you can feel yourself get hot in the way your eyes can’t stray away.

You’re momentarily distracted by the blatant display of muscle by Jungkook that you completely miss the way that Jimin and Taehyung are struggling to breathe because of how hard they’re stifling their laughter or the way that Namjoon is contemplating on throwing the nearest dumbbell into Jungkook’s direction.

You flush, “Okay, you know what? Wait here. Let me get the first aid kit.” You mumble, quickly scampering off to alleviate yourself from the situation.

The moment you leave the room, Namjoon takes two long strides until he reaches where Jungkook’s sat, before wrapping a hand around the arm that was supposedly hurt—and squeezes.

“Ow! What the fuck hyung?!” Jungkook shrieks.

“Don’t hyung me, you brat.” Namjoon seethes, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jungkook gapes, while Jimin and Taehyung watch in amusement.

“Me?! What’s wrong with you?” Jungkook retorts, equally as agitated, “Oh, _____, help spot me! Woe is me! Like she wouldn’t get crushed under you, you meathead!” 

“Like you’re any better,” Namjoon snaps, “Oh, Noona, pay attention to me. My arm hurts. You might as well have asked her to change your fucking diapers at the rate you’re acting like a damn child.”

“You’re the one that started all of this!” Jungkook exasperates, “With all due respect hyung, I love you and you’re my captain but I really feel like smashing your head into the wall right now.”

“That’s it?” Namjoon scoffs, “Well I’ll do you one better and let you know that every time you breathe in my direction I feel like—”

“Oh my God will you two idiots shut the fuck up?” Taehyung interjects, snapping at the two boys who pause, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Even Jimin is surprised at Taehyung’s intervention, purely because he was the type that usually let shit slide or let other people put problematic individuals into place. He was the mediator, the diplomat—not usually the aggressor.

“Wha—”

“Another peep and I’m going to smother your body under the dumbbells and leave you here to rot and die.” Taehyung seethes, staring straight into Jungkook’s soul.

That shuts him up.

“Both of you are acting like goddamn children, and for what? To battle out your masculinity to see who gets ____’s attention first?” Taehyung exasperates.

Namjoon clears his throat, “We were just—”

“—acting like a bunch of barbarians who’s never seen civilisation?” Taehyung retorts dryly, “Yeah. Because that’s exactly what this looks like. The two of you are so petty and for what? You two are literally rubbing the last remaining brain cells you have with each other but nothing is coming out from it. Like—nothing. Do you think she’d give a shit which one of you can lift more reps? That means absolutely nothing! She’s already freaked the fuck out at the prospect of her childhood best friend being in love with her and now we have Big Tit Number One and Two battling it out like you’re in the Greek Olympics.”

Jungkook blinks, and Jimin is mildly impressed.

“So before she comes back and tends to Jungkook’s hurt muscle,” Taehyung sneers, eyes narrowing at a guilty-looking Jungkook, “Both of you better sort your shit out.”

Namjoon flushes, embarrassed at the prospect of being called out, all while Jungkook is avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Oh my God, do you have a crush on each other or something? Apologise!” Taehyung gestures towards the two boys who awkwardly blink at each other, feeling much like reprimanded children.

It’s Namjoon who breaks the silence first, clearly the more mature one in the situation.

“Look … Jungkook,” He sighs, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … drag it out like this. I don’t mean it maliciously and you’re my friend and teammate, so I’d really hate if a girl got in the way.”

Jungkook nibbles on his lips, eyebrows still scrunched; and the irrational part of him tells him to ignore the apology. But with the way that Taehyung is glaring him down, with Jimin’s expectant gaze, he knows that he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“I’m sorry … too,” he winces at his own voice, “But just to let you know … I really …” He shuts his eyes, feeling his chest tighten when he tries to force the words out, “She isn’t just … a girl to me, hyung. I really, really like her. And—I know you like her too but … I fucked up and I really want to make things right and seeing you—”

Jungkook is flushing while he rambles on, fully aware that the rest of his friends are listening intently to him speaking his heart. But a hand rests itself on his shoulder, and when Jungkook opens his eyes he sees Namjoon offering him a gentle smile.

“I know,” He says, “I know I said I wouldn’t back off …” He trails off and Jungkook recalls the conversation he had with him in the very same gym just a few weeks back, “But I don’t think I can compete with a decade long love story.” 

Jungkook scoffs, though his ears are flushed.

“It’s really not—”

Namjoon waves him off, clasping a tight hand onto his back that tells him it’s okay, and whatever that was going on would get better. And Jungkook feels marginally better and allows himself to let out a sigh of release.

“So are the two of you gonna kiss or what?” Jimin asks in the midst of the silence.

Namjoon glares at the boy, “Don’t make me give you an extra ten laps.”

He backs down immediately, raising his hands up in defence. And at that moment, you return, all smiles and with a pant as you raise the first aid kit up.

“Your arm?” You smile sweetly, and Jungkook can only offer a weak on in return.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Depends. Will I have to run from the government if I answer you honestly?” Yena ponders out loud.

You roll your eyes but shake your head anyway. The two of you were meant to be cooking dinner but you’ve surrendered yourself to Netflix and Yena’s witty live commentary on horrible films you were scrolling through an hour earlier. Though, your head wasn’t quite in it, to begin with; your thoughts drifting to other aspects, ones that you thought too hard for and didn’t necessarily know the answer to.

It was frustrating, the way that you wanted to have a solution for everything but overthought every single case that happens to pass by your mind. 

“No one’s hunting anyone down, your anarchist,” You say, “This is a little … personal.” 

You didn’t have any girl friends prior to Yena, and that was your first mistake. You weren’t the person that actively avoided having girl friends because you thought they were dramatic or overly emotional but purely because you never knew how to befriend women. It was weird—being a woman yet being muddled with your own sense of femininity that suppressed your ability to form meaningful friendships with your women peers.

Throughout most of your childhood and teenaged life, you only had Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook. While they were more than enough to keep your memories cheerful and filled with laughter, there were more personal things that you couldn’t quite approach them with. They had each other to confide in their ‘manly’ discussions, small talk that you’d often flush at—but you couldn’t ask them the same things you wanted to.

You knew, that on a fundamental level that your personal things were just … things. It wasn’t that deep, nor did it require a PhD in Gender Studies to fully understand the nuance of periods or apparent ‘girl’ problems; you just needed to listen. But you were timid, and you got embarrassed super easily—so that never boded well whenever you’d want to approach them with a question of your own.

But now, you had Yena—debatably the most open and understanding person you’ve met in your life; and you owed it to yourself, and her—to be honest, to live yourself vicariously in your girl best friends eyes—and ask:

“How do you have sex?”

Granted, there was definitely a smoother way of peeling off the bandaid, but you supposed if you were going to be discussing this one way or another, you’d go big or go home.

“I’m sorry,” She coughs, “What?”

You blink.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you were a virgin first …” You mumble.

Yena stares at you with a stupefied expression as she gapes at you.

“Hey, repeat after me: candy, tree and cat.” She grabs you by your shoulders.

“I’m not cerebrally compromised, Yena,” you say dryly.

“Repeat,” She glares.

You huff, shoving her hand off your shoulder.

“Candy, tree and cat. There, happy?” You huff.

She eyes you weirdly as you sigh. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes!” You exasperate, “So like … how? Do you just? Penetrate?”

Yena blinks one more time, her eyes trailing to the ceiling as she asks for a higher being to give her strength before she returns her gaze onto your figure.

“Babe, that is literally the unsexiest way to approach sex.” 

“Penetration?” You furrow your brows.

She scrunches her brows, “No.” She gestures to you, “That.”

You scowl.

“I don’t know how to approach sex! That’s why I’m asking you. I literally don’t know who else to approach. If I went to Jimin or Taehyung I’m pretty sure they’d just stare at me and cry. Namjoon is out of the picture because he’d likely approach sex textbook style and I don’t need that level of detail right now. I definitely can’t ask Jungkook because he’s the guy I wanna have sex with. So yeah. I’m here because you’re a woman and the only person I can have a full conversation with without losing my will to live.”

Yena gawks at you, jaw slack as you finish your ramble; ears flushed.

“… you …” She begins, wracking her brain for the words that seem to fail her, “… okay. You know what, the fact that you’re here and putting your big girl pants on and asking me this is a feat in itself so I’m going to just ignore the fact that you said you wanted to have sex with Jungkook.”

You flush, “I was word vomiting—”

“Ah,” She holds her hands up, levelling you with a knowing glare, “If you want honest, you be honest too.”

You slump in your seat, sighing as you nod your head defeatedly.

“Firstly, I’m not a virgin. I could never be a virgin.” Yena declares, “Granted, I’ve slept with three people and two of them were women. But the idiot I lost my virginity to was, unfortunately, of XY chromosomes so … I guess I can answer your questions.”

“I mean … I know how sex works but … approaching it …” You mutter.

“And sex isn’t this groundbreaking act that requires Einstein’s IQ to partake in. It’s both intimate and not, and that’s definitely a personal preference. You can know the semantics of how people have sex, for hets in this case, which is just the classic ol’ penetration method where the penis enters the—”

“Your point?” You exasperate.

“—okay, I got a little carried away. But really, sex isn’t … difficult. It’s scary, I’ll give you that. But you don’t go into your first time thinking you’ll be great at it. Hell, you won’t even like sex that much your first few times unless your partner is a sex demon or something.”

“I mean when Jungkook …” You shudder, “When he … I … you know, did things … it felt …” You fiddle with your fingers. Your ears were undoubtedly on fire, and you were so embarrassed saying these things out loud because it was just so awkward!

“Good? You know I’m not going to judge you for it,” she says pointedly, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

You flush, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment. You knew that Yena would never judge you for something as trivial and as unimportant as your sexual endeavours, but this was still a road you’ve yet to properly navigate yourself.

“I … came,” you wince at your breathy voice, “It felt good. And … he’s experienced, you know? I just don’t want to …”

Yena looks at you inquisitively.

“You don’t want to …?”

You sigh deeply, considering your next words with a soft murmur, “I don’t want to not live up to his expectations, you know?”

She frowns at you, “Jungkook’s made some mistakes but you said it yourself. He’s in love with you,” she says softly, “There’s no pressure to have sex with him just because it’s out in the open now, you know?”

You nibble on your lips.

“It’s … more than just that,” you tell her, “I told him I needed time, and really, I do. But it isn’t because I’m confused. I mean, kind of—but really it’s because I don’t want to walk into something and disappoint him … I’m just … scared.”

Yena holds your hand in hers while offering you a gentle smile.

“It’s valid that you’re scared. But there really isn’t anything that can come out of being scared right now. The two of you worked through an obstacle, and here you are creating another one that doesn’t quite exist yet. Trust me, when the time feels right, it does. And you’ll feel ready. Will you still be scared? Maybe. But it’ll feel like it’s meant to fit within your timeline.”

You nibble on your lips, “Is it bad that I’m overthinking this?” You wince.

Yena shrugs her shoulders, “Like everything else in your life?” She teases.

You whine, shoving at her shoulder playfully where all Yena does is snicker in response. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting out of the conversation, even if it was vaguely about the ins and outs of sexual exploration. And she was right, you’ll always be afraid of something, whether it’ll benefit you or harm you because that’s what change does. It shifts your comfort zone into a space that may be unfamiliar but necessary.

You lean into Yena’s shoulder, and a wave of overwhelming emotion washes upon you when you look at her. You really didn’t know how you survived a time without Yena in your life. And as if she’s noticed your glassy gaze, she raises an eyebrow at you.

“What are you looking at?”

You grin at her, all teeth and gums on display as you hug onto her arm like a koala.

“I’m just really happy you’re in my life.” You sigh wistfully.

She pauses for one whole second before she snorts.

“Wow, talk about sex once and suddenly you’re in love with me?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, “Tell Jeon and Kim that you’re mine now.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes.

“They’re not even competing in the same league as you are,” you assure her.

She smiles.

“So … does that mean I don’t need to get you a birthday gift?”

That earns a thwack on her shoulder.

[katsu28]

just like old times

pairing: mcu!Peter Parker x reader

summary: Y/N runs into an old friend when returning home after a long time

warnings: none I think? I could be wrong tho so lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited yet so concerned for a movie than I am for Spider-Man: No Way Home—like I’m genuinely terrified but so pumped for it

(gif found on google, credits to owner)

also yay i finally figured out how to do more than just write things on tumblr :D

Being back in New York after three, almost four years was weird. You hadn’t been home in such a long time, you almost missed being shoved around on the subway on your way back to Queens.

Your first order of business, even before visiting your parents, was to swing by Delmar’s, because holy shit, did you miss those sandwiches. Delmar’s Deli-Grocery was your go-to afterschool snack place with your then best friend Peter Parker. You and Peter went there so often, Mr. Delmar knew both your orders by heart. Sadly, you’d fallen out of touch with Peter after you graduated high school, but Delmar’s brought back good memories of splitting sandwiches and gummy worms with an old friend.

The bell above the door rang as you walked into the corner bodega, and you beelined straight for the counter. Murph the cat was curled up where he always was, rubbing his head against your hand when you scratched him behind the ears like you used to.

“Hi there, what can I—ay Dios mío!” Mr. Delmar emerged from the back, eyes widening when they landed on you. “Little Y/N L/N? Is that you?”

“Hi, Mr. Delmar!” You laughed. He rounded the counter, gathering you in a warm hug. Mr. Delmar might’ve looked a little older—as you were sure you did too—but his hugs were just like you remembered.

“It’s been so long, kid! How’ve you been? How’s college?” Mr. Delmered peppered you with question after question as he made your sandwich, and it was good that nobody else was waiting, because you ended up telling him all about your college experience so far. “Hey, do you still talk to Peter?”

“I actually haven’t kept in touch with him for a while.” You said awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot.

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that. You two were quite the pair.” Mr. Delmar frowned, sliding your sandwich across the counter. “Between you and me, the guys and I had a bet on when you and Peter would get together.”

Your cheeks grew hot at his words, but honestly it wasn’t the first time someone had brought up the topic of you and Peter dating. Back in high school, the two of you spent so much time together, even your parents thought the two of you were a thing. You weren’t, but there was a period of time where you did have a tiny crush on Peter. It never really panned out though, and then you just fell out of contact with him.

“I hope you didn’t lose too much money, Mr. Delmar.” You chuckled, tossing a bag of gummy worms on the counter before handing him a twenty and telling him to keep the change.

“Well, you never know. Maybe you’ll bump into him while you’re here and fall in love like in those cheesy romance movies my wife loves.” Mr. Delmar shrugged, wiggling his eyebrows. “If that happens, be sure to give ol’ Delmar a visit, sí? Help me get my money back, eh?”

“You got it, sir.” You humored the old man, grabbing your food and reaching over the counter to give him another hug. “It was nice seeing you again!”

“While you’re here, don’t be a stranger, kiddo. I miss my favorite customer!”

After assuring Mr. Delmar you’d come back at least once before you left town, you exited the market. You were probably just going to eat on the way to your parents’ place, and you were really looking forward to it.

You pulled your phone out of your bag to shoot your mom a text that you were coming, rounding the corner only to run right into someone heading the other way. Your phone clattered to the ground, causing you to swear.

“Oh man, I’m so sorry—” A hand reached down to pick up your phone, and when you looked up to thank them, you were met with a familiar pair of brown eyes. “Y/N?”

“Peter!” You blurted, eyes widening. What were the odds that right after you’d been talking about him with Mr. Delmar, you’d run into him on the street?

He looked pretty much the same as he did when you saw him last, just a little taller and hair a little longer, but still the same Peter you remembered.

“Hey!” He beamed at you, handing your phone back to you. “Wow, it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other! How are you?”

“Good, good, yeah! I’m just visiting my folks for a little bit.” You nodded, feeling his ever present cheeriness already rubbing off on you. “How are you? How’s May?”

“We’re good too, yeah.” Peter bobbed his head. “You look great, by the way. I see you finally got over your hate of wearing your glasses.” He observed, gesturing to your face. You laughed, pushing your glasses up on your nose. “They’re cute.”

“Thank you, Peter. You look great too.” His eyes flicked down to the sandwich and gummy worms tucked under your arm, smiling a bit sadly as he remembered your usual after school routine from years ago.

You don’t know what possessed you to speak next—maybe it was the nostalgia of seeing Peter again—but words that came out of your mouth next surprised even you. “Hey, do you wanna split these like old times? If you’re not busy, I mean. We could catch up a little bit.”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’d like that.” A big grin split Peter’s face as he nodded a tad too enthusiastically. Your smile mirrored his as you fell into step with each other, your old route pretty much burned into the backs of your brains. Your heart even gave a little jump when Peter looped his arm through yours like he always used to do.

Crumpled wrappers and a few hours later, you and Peter had been sprawled out on the grass in Central Park catching up and trading stories about the past few years, your stomach hurting from how much Peter had made you laugh.

Unfortunately, it was starting to get dark, and you were due at your parents’ house for dinner. Peter, being the gentleman that he was, had insisted he walk you there. So now here you were, listening to Peter rave about how good the newest Star Wars movie was as you walked through the streets of Queens, and it felt like you were back in high school again.

“Hey, you okay?” Peter’s voice drew you out of your nostalgic thoughts, and you turned your head to see him peering at you with concern in his warm brown eyes. “Am I talking too much? I’m so sorry, I—”

“No, no! I was just...thinking.” You assured him.

“Oh. Okay. Penny for your thoughts?”

“I...I had a lot of fun today, Peter. With you.” You admitted, to which his lips quirked up into a smile. “But it made me wonder, why did we stop talking in the first place?”

Peter’s smile faltered a bit, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I don’t know, honestly.” He sighed after a little while, shoulders sagging. “I guess we just grew apart.”

“Well, let’s not do that again, yeah? I missed having that annoying Peter Parker optimism in my life.”

“I so didn’t miss your cynicism.” Peter snorted, rolling his eyes. “But I did miss you, Y/N.”

“Do you wanna come over for dinner? My parents would love to see you.” You offered, tilting your head at him. “And mom’s making your favorite.”

“Pad thai???” He gasped, eyes going wide. You nodded. “Oh my god, yes!”

You’d never expected to run into Peter Parker ever again, but you were really glad that you did, because now you were on your way to having your best friend back.