#why do i have three assignments due this monday

[juuuulez]

Okay I have a request..

With any character you want! What about it's summer and very hot (not me projecting) and their girl just had a popsicle (water ice cream?) and she complains that she can't feel her lips now and they share a sweet kiss. To tease her or something idk... do what you like with this!!

Also I hope it makes sense, English isn't my first language.

stooppppp this is so richie coded

like your lips are all numb from the popsicle (we call them icy poles in australia), raspberry syrup sticking to your tongue and teeth.

“i can’t feel my mouf." you mumble, whilst licking a stray droplet of lolly from your wrist, tongue numb and tingly.

and richie is watching you like a hawk, even though he should probably be keeping an eye on eva, who's zipping around the playground, all hyped up on sugar from the nearby icecream truck.

“y’want some help with that?” he asks, only prompting a low hum in return, as you’re too busy cleaning the red sticky liquid from your skin.

his fingers pinch your cheek, bringing your face back up to face him. you make a faint noise of protest before his mouth is over yours, his tongue invading your space. it’s warm and slick, melting away that numb feeling, and replacing it with a buzzing sensation.

you get lost in the feeling before someone clears their throat, a flush of embarrassment tinting your cheeks as a nearby mother casts a disapproving glance.

richie can’t help but grin in accomplishment, adoring the flustered look you get over being caught out in public like that. he slings his hand around your shoulders, tucking you into his side. the taste of raspberry lingers in his mouth.

[eugeniedanglars]

maybe it’s the neurodivergence maybe it’s the unhealthy academic environment i grew up in but man i fucking hate when professors set harsh deadlines/punishments “just to get students to take the assignment seriously” without actually intending to follow through. i feel like the students who ignore rules and deadlines just continue to ignore the rules and deadlines while the students like me who always take instructions seriously get put through so much unnecessary stress bc you made it sound like our entire future was on the line if we slipped up in any way and we believed you (see above re: always taking instructions seriously)

[hueseok]

it was always you.

for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.

so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.

or at least, that’s what you think.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 13.2k

rating: 18+

content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts

warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken

opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗

“Any questions?”

A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”

You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.

You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”

More than half of the class raises their hands.

“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”

A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.

“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”

“I love you, Ms. ____!”

“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.

“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”

The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.

There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.

Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.

“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.

“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”

He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”

You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.

“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”

“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”

“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”

“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”

“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”

“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”

“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”

“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”

He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”

“You didn’t?”

He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.

“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”

“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.

Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.

It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.

It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.

At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.

“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”

“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”

“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”

Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.

“He meant well, ____.”

You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.

“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.

He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”

You wince.

“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”

“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”

“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”

“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”

“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”

“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”

“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”

“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.

“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.

“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.

He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”

“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”

“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”

“An apology?”

“For being the last person to know about your condition.”

“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”

“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”

Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.

“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”

“I can make space for you.”

Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?

You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”

“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”

“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”

“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.

“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”

Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.

“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.

“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”

“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Fine.” You deadpan.

This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”

“Okay.”

****

When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.

He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.

And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment. 

He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.

Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.

“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.

Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”

“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“You’ll do it then?”

He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”

“Even as crazy as marrying her?”

“Sure.”

Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”

“I don’t like her.” 

“You’re in love with her.”

“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”

Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”

“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”

“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”

“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”

“That can work.”

“What?” Jungkook laughed.

Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”

He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”

“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”

“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.

Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, and then I’ll do everything I can to fuck you up.”

Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.

“Noted.”

****

It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.

You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world. 

“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.

You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.

“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.

Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”

He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.

“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”

The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”

“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”

“Precisely.”

“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”

“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”

 You bob. “Does it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”

“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”

“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”

You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”

“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.

He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”

“Hell no.”

“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.

“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”

He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”

“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”

The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.

You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.

When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.

After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.

He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.

“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt. 

“That’s no need, Kook.”

“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”

So, you allow him.

It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.

“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”

“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”

Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”

“Agreed.”

You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”

Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.

“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.

“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”

“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“That’s not convincing at all.”

“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”

You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.

You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”

There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”

“I can’t promise that either.”

“You have to.”

“Why do I have to?”

“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”

You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”

“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what?”

“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”

“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”

“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”

“You should be.” You grumble.

Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.

“What?” You hiss.

He swallows hard.

“I want you to marry me, ____.”

You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.

****

Jungkook was your first kiss.

It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 

He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”

You blushed.

Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.

5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.

“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”

You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”

“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”

Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“So, it’s not true?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.

It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”

You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”

“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.

He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.

“Okay,” you told him.

“Huh?”

“You can kiss me.”

“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”

You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”

“It is?” Hope sparked within you.

“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”

You cackled. “Deal.”

56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours. 

****

You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.

“What’s up?”

“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.

A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”

The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.

“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”

“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”

“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”

“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”

“Why not?”

“It just won’t!”

“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”

You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”

“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”

“It’s a sham marriage!”

“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”

“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”

Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”

“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”

“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”

“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”

“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”

Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”

“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”

“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”

“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”

There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.

“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.

“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”

“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”

“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.

You hang up and glance at the door.

You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.

He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.

As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect. 

Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.

Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack

You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.

You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw

Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first

You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you

Jungkook: oof that’s harsh

You: sorry not sorry?

He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.

However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.

Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind

You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.

You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey

Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣

****

It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.

He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.

Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.

“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.

“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.

You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”

“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”

“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”

“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding.

You two continue walking forward.

This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.

“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.

You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”

“Busy day?”

“Yep.”

“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”

He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”

“Why not?”

“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”

“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”

“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”

“The assurance you’re taken care of.”

“That’s cheesy.”

You share a laugh and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”

He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.

Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.

“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”

You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.

“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.

“Glucometer.”

He halts. “What does that look like?”

“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.

He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.

“Apple juice,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.

You grab the juice pouch from his grasp, prying the straw attached on the back, pushing its end for it to pop out of its plastic cover—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing and punching in the straw properly.

“Let me do it,” he says.

You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he does the job and guides the straw to your awaiting lips, a long exhale through your nose escapes you.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.

Another sigh. “Better.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”

“____—”

“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”

Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”

Before you can protest, he closes the door.

****

Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.

In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.

“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.

“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”

“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”

“It’s not.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.

Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?

“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.

“Four months, I think.”

“Four months? And you already brought him home?”

You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”

“You must really like him then.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”

“Does he treat you well?”

You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”

“What’s with it?”

“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”

Fuck, thank God, he thought.

“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.

“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”

“But I’m not your brother.”

“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”

“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”

“Oh, so you don’t?”

He pressed his lips into a tight line.

“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Instead you implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You kinda did.”

He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”

“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.

He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.

“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.

“He might not like it. You’ll see.”

That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.

You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.

****

“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.

Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in feeding yourself with apple juice, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.

“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.

“Jungkook—”

“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.

You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”

“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated. 

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not willing to see you die.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”

“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”

“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”

“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”

“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”

“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”

“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”

“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”

“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”

Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”

“That won’t make me feel better.”

“Then what will?”

You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.

Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.

Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.

You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”

He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”

“For one, I grew up.”

“Ouch.”

You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”

That piques his interest. “Anything.”

“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”

You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.

“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.

It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.

You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”

His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!

He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.

“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”

That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.

“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.

“What?”

“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”

Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.

“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.

“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”

“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”

And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.

It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.

However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.

“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.

You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.

“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.

It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.

“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.

You grin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”

You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.

“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”

You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.

He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.

He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”

You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.

It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.

Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.

“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.

You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m going to take you up on that.”

“Please do.”

After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you are. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.

“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.

You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”

A boyish grin erupts on his features.

Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.

“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.

You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”

He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”

“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”

“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”

****

“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.

The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.

“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh. 

He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.

Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.

“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”

You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.

“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.

“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”

“Of course.” You kiss him too.

His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.

“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.

The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.

Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.

Jungkook unwillingly places you down.

“I think I need to go,” you say.

He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss. 

He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”

“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.

“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.

“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”

“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”

“You,” he answers without missing a beat.

You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”

“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”

You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”

Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.

You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.

“What?” you ask.

“Please never do that in front of me again.”

His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”

“Want what?”

“Me and Jungkook to be together.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”

A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”

“We’re not—”

“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”

“Wait, so the two of you have?”

Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”

He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”

You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.

You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”

You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.

A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”

You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”

When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”

You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.

You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.

“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.

You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.

Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.

You: look how cute we look 🥹

You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.

If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[longroadstonowhere]

you know, sometimes i stress out during the week because i should really be trying to do more of my schoolwork over time, not just leave it all for the weekend, why am i ignoring it

and then i do all my assignments on saturday (in between going fully insane about rwby) and it’s like oh right i just.... work insanely well once i get going, and saturdays are the first day of the week where i can just sit down and do homework without worrying about any outside stuff

[mewhenimanangel]

everywhere ʚɞ miles morales x reader

pairing: 42!miles morales x reader

synopsis: you beg miles to help you write your extra credit paper so he invites you over.

wc: 3.2k

warnings!: swearing, harassment, creepy men, n word use, making out, google translate spanish

prev ʚɞ fin

why are you everywhere, fuck. miles couldn't get you out of his head it's like you were taking over his life. you became the center of his drawings, spending like three hours perfecting the small details on your face, your wispy eyelashes, the brown and pink in your lips, everything. and that kiss didn't make it any easier, it wasn't his first kiss but god it made him obsessed.

it was becoming a problem for his prowler work, his uncle told him to get his head in the game.

you were sitting in physics and he wouldn't stop trying to touch you. he kept his knee pressed on yours the whole class and kept crossing the imaginary line on the table to touch your elbow with his. you looked through the side of your eye and saw that he was staring at you. "the way i can feel your stare right now is insane" you giggled, whispering. "i literally don't know what you're talking about" he pressed his lips together and shook his head.

neither of you have spoken about the kiss you'd shared three nights ago. things weren't awkward it just kind of went back to the way it was before. at least that's what you thought.

it was the end of class and your teacher assigned a partner paper that was due on monday for extra credit points, miles didn't need the points however you did. "can you pleasee just work with me?" you begged, following behind him down the hall. "i don't even need it? i have a 98" he told you. "alright well unlike you my grade sucks, pleaseee i wanna make honor roll, and right now i have a 79" you pleaded, hooking his arm. he let you keep your hand there, secretly enjoying the contact. "why don't you ask somebody else who needs it?"

"cause you're the only one i talk to there, everyone else seems boringgg. plus you're smart" you tried to inflate his ego to work in your favor. he didn't say anything he just looked down at your pleading eyes. "milessss" was all you said until he rolled his eyes. "relájate maldita sea, i'll do it with you. can you come to my house tomorrow night or your dad still hate me?" he joked and you laughed a bit. "if i tell him it's for school he might relax a lil" you said "so does that mean you'll help??" you asked again with a smile on your face.

he loved that on you, definitely going back in his sketchbook. "ain't that what i just said chiquita"he scoffed. you squealed "thank youuu, okay i'll see you later" you pulled off his arm and turned down the hallway to your locker.

ʚɞ

you walked out of the grocery store with bags and a small baguette in hand that you were chewing on. god you adored the bakery in that store. you turned down the street in the direction of your building when you heard someone "ay pretty lady what you doing out here this late" you turned to your side and saw some random guy talking to you. "ha, don't worry bout me." you nervously said back, deciding to just keep walking. "ah mami, don't be so cold~" now you could hear the slurring in his words, obviously drunk. you still kept it pushing and he just followed behind. "that ass is looking tight though" he reached a hand out and squeezed at your butt.

"what the fuck?!" you shouted, reaching into your pocket for your mace to spray him. you turned around but paused when you saw the familiar mask you knew from the news, the prowler. he was staring at you with a finger over where his mouth would be and reached his claws around the guys neck and pulled him into the alleyway nearby. you heard the guy scream, and some thuds before ultimately what you thought was blood splatter and a body dropping to the ground.

that was when you decided to make a run for it, and when the grocery store was out of sight, you walked as fast as you could back to your building. even though he'd just helped you, you did not want to get caught up with the prowler at all. he would be on the news for various crimes - theft, arson, aggravated assault, murder, etc. again, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. you ran into your building and up the stairs unaware of that mask staring at you from the building across.

♱

miles was on his way home jumping from the rooftop to rooftop when he heard some voices on the street. he looked over and saw you being followed by some guy who looked drunk out of his mind. he followed on the roofs before jumping down, as silently as he could, behind the guy. he looked at the fright on your face and put a finger up to his mouth.

he grabbed the guy by the throat and pulled him into the alley behind him. he threw him down on the ground sending a kick to his face. he sent a punch to his face with his clawed gloved before throwing him up against the wall, sending another harsh blow to his face. it enraged him knowing that guy was tryna hurt you..or worse. he used the sharp claw to slice against his neck, the pressure sending his blood on the walls. he went limp and dropped to the ground. "one less fucking weirdo." he spat. he peeked out from the alley to see you were gone and practically sprinting back to your building, smart girl.

he followed behind you on the rooftops, something he's grown quite fond of doing when he would see you out on his patrols, to make sure you got home safe. he'd figured out which window was your bedroom a few weeks ago and didn't leave until he saw the lights turn on and your shadow illuminating against your curtains.

ʚɞ

it was friday afternoon and you got dressed to go over to miles' house. you got dressed in a pair of track pants with a baby tee and sneakers. you still wanted to look cute but you didn't want to feel like you were doing too much. you threw on your sweater and put your things in your bookbag and left.

you felt your palms getting sweatier the closer you got to the door. you knocked on it when you heard a muffled shout from behind the door. a few seconds later, you were met with miles - hair out and curly afro falling at the sides of his fade, black wife beater   on that exposed his gold chain and well defined muscles. he had a pair of black joggers on that showed the waistband of his boxers, god he looked good.

"you gonna keep standing there or do you want to come in" he joked with you. you rolled your eyes fondly before taking your shoes off by the door "you took your braids out" you pointed out. "getting em redone tomorrow" he told you. "by the way, my mom's here and she insisted on making you dinner" he told you, you nod your head before following him to the kitchen. "ahh cariño, you must be y/n" a woman greeted you with a smile and a hug. "i'm miles' mom, rio. when he told me he was bringing his little girlfriend over i had to meet you. and i made dinner, hope you don't mind" she told you. "momm" miles groaned making you giggle.

"not at all ms morales" you smiled at her. "miles baby be a gentleman, take her bag and her sweater for her" she told her son. he went up behind you and gently pulled them off your back before going to his room. "you want a plate baby? i made pollo guisado y arroz" she asked you. "that sounds really yummy, thank you" you answered. miles came back from his room and shared his own plate along with you guys' and you all sat at their dining table. you sat in the chair that you figured was his dad's and you found yourself growing a little sorry.

you took a bite of your food and your face twisted in delight. "oh this is so good, been too long since i had good home food" you admitted, taking another bite. "thank you sweetie" her face softened with a sorrowful look. she'd heard about your mom after miles explained why he ditched school and why she got a call from some man telling her he was kissing his daughter.

"your house is really nice by the way, i love the feel of it it's so pretty" you told her. "ahhh you're gonna give me a big head, thank you bonita" she smiled at you. you looked up and saw a picture of miles sitting on the wall ledge when he was a toddler, mean mug on his face. "awww is that you?" you asked him, pointing to the picture. he looked at where you were pointing and smiled a little before nodding his head. "ahhh you're so adorablee" you said in a baby voice. he looked at you and you continued "and you still got that same mug" you joked, poking his cheek.

rio began sharing stories of miles when he was a kid and how stubborn he was. how he would test his parents' patience even though he knew they didn't play like that. she pulled out her phone and opened an album she had dedicated to miles and gave you to scroll through. you giggled at how cute and silly he was, but he did not seem amused. a video popped up of rio recording jeff throwing a small miles in the air and telling him how much he loved him. the air grew a little somber and rio cleared her throat "um don't you guys have a project or something, i don't wanna keep you waiting all night" she said picking up the plates.

"uh i can help wash up" you offered. "no, está bien. go hang out and do your work." she smiled. you followed miles to his room and looked around at his choice of decor. his bed sheets were a plain black, not much decorations on his wall except for a few rappers and album covers. he had a desk by his window and a mirror on the side of it. on his desk sat a laptop, notebooks, a lamp, pictures of his mom and dad and a sketchbook off to the side. it was open to you decided to be nosy and move closer to take a peek.

your eyes jumped a little bit when you saw what was an unfinished drawing of your face mid smile. "is this meee?" you picked it up and turned the page back one. this time it was multiple sketches of you from different angles. he moved to pull the book out of your hand and you gave him an awkward smile. "someone's obsessed. am i your muse?" you teased him. he closed the notebook and hid a smile shaking his head, "you are mad nosy" he told you. "draw me like one of your french girls, miles" you teased him some more.

you looked at his posters "frank, tupac, okay tasteee" you said. you continued looking around the room but he didn't seem too bothered by it considering he was sat on his bed just watching you. you looked a little through his shelves, checking out his book collection "i didn't know you read, scholar" you said, taking one down to read it. when you did that, something fell to the floor. miles jumped up to stop you from picking it up when he realized what it was. your smile dropped when you saw the mask you'd just encountered the night before.

"wait what is this?" you asked, tone a little more serious. "listen" was all he got out before you kept going. "don't tell me you're..." you looked at the mask and then back at him, mouth dropping as you made the connection. "ohh don't tell me you're the prowler!" you got a little louder and he slapped a hand over your mouth. "would you hush?! my mom doesn't need to know" he whisper yelled. you stuck your tongue out to lick his hand and he pulled it off you wiping your spit in his sweats. "well that's a really fucking dumb hiding spot!" you yelled back in a whisper.

"miles, you are the prowler??" you asked holding the mask in your. he looked away from your eyes before letting out a sigh and nodding his head "you cannot tell anybody" he pointed a finger to you . "aren't you literally killing people and stuff?? how could you do all of that?!" you argued in a hushed tone. "listen, you don't get it alright? im doing this to help my situation out so don't be coming up in here and judging me!" he argued back.

you sympathized with him a bit before biting back "but you're killing people, oh my fucking god you killed that man last night!" "i was doing that for you! stop fucking walking by yourself at night by the way" he said back to you.

"when did i ask you to do that for me?" you pointed a finger to your chest. "y/n don't you get it. i would do anything for you" he was getting desperate, moving closer to you. "what?" you furrowed your eyebrows. "there's not a line in the world that i wouldn't cross for you." he grabbed your hands. you didn't know what to say next. the tension was so high and you two just looked at each other.

he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, the force pushing you back into his shelf. his hands moved to your waist and your arms crossed behind his neck, deepening the kiss. he pushed his knee between your legs and your breath hitched in your throat. rio opened the door coming into the room "miles gonzalo morales, no hanky panky! you have work to do. ¡puerta abierta!" she shouted before leaving. your heart sank in your chest and you took a deep breath before looking back into his eyes.

"right that's why i came here. didn't come here to argue with you, think i'm gonna leave now" you said moving past him to your bookbag. "don't. i can still help you, i could write it for you if you want" he tried to stop you. you pushed your feelings down, you do still need his help, you could be mad at him later.

you spent the next thirty minutes searching through your textbook for information and typed it while miles looked up formulas and concepts.  you groaned and threw your head back on his pillows. "ey i told you i coulda just wrote it for you, you wanted to be stubborn. ahora haz el trabajo" he told you. you only whined in response before staying silent with your thoughts.

"why are you doing it?" you spoke up. "what?" he furrowed his eyebrows. "the whole prowler thing" "i told you. to help my situation out" he shrugged. you got up on your elbows "no but like why?" he sighed and rolled his eyes

"i do it to help my mom out. she keeps taking mad shifts at the hospital and no matter how much she tells me not to worry, i do. i don't wanna see her stressing herself out like that, it's not fair. so me and my uncle help her out, he was the one who had told me he was the prowler and then i took over but now he just helps me out. and listen i'm not killing people like that. i know what the news says about me and i've only really touched like three people, plus that guy last night. and if i do kill someone it's never innocent people." he explained.

"so like a vigilante typa thing?" you asked him. "i don't know maybe. probably not the good kind though. " he chuckled, feeling a little sorry. you sat and listened to everything he had to say "i know i'm not innocent either, not anymore. but i'm not gonna stop till things are right for us again. i really hope you can understand?" he asked you. you thought for a second before nodding your head. "i don't even know why i'm telling you all that, you not an opp right?" he raised an eyebrow at you. "no, please i could never" you giggled.

he leaned so his face was close enough that you could feel each other's soft breathing while you looked into each other's eyes. he pressed his lips against yours, loving the way your soft lips felt against his. the kiss was softer this time, different from the one before. he put his hands on each side of your jaw.

he moved to line kisses down your neck and you reveled in the feeling it gave you. you bit your bottom lip and put your fingers in his hair before you caught yourself. "wait" you pushed him back a little "your mom said no hanky panky" you mimicked her with a giggle. "so?" he said moving back to your lips. "so..your door is literally open and she's in the room next door" you told him. he moved back to your lips "i can close it" you kissed back for another minute before pulling away again.

"i have a paper to finish" you licked your lips and you could still taste him on you. he helped you finish your writing and after about an hour and a half you clapped, glad to be done. his mom poked her head through the door "mijo, it's getting late. think it's time y/n head home?" she asked the two of you. you both frowned a little bit but you figured it was pretty late and nod your head "yeah okay, we finished up anyways" you smiled at her. you packed your stuff in your bag and miles shoved his feet in his uggs.

"you're coming?" you furrowed your eyebrows. "duh. don't think i'm letting you walk by yourself" there was so much sass in his voice you had to laugh. "alright nigga relax" you giggled.

"have a good night sweetie" rio called out to you from the couch. "you too, mrs morales" you smiled and waved. miles opened the door and followed behind you.

the two of you walked down the few blocks in comfortable silence side by side. miles copied the speed you walked and made his feet match yours in sync. "thanks for helping me by the way. i deadass wouldn't have finished this until probably second period on monday" you told him. "and that's why your ass was pushing a D" he joked with you.

you got to the outside of your apartment building and said your goodbyes, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and entered the building, heading up to your apartment. you showered and went to lay down with a lot to think about.

taglist ౨ৎ

@prettypink-princesss @itsnotino @r3d0n33 @iluvprowlermiles @jmsanchoo @stevenknightmarc @melllinaa @

[luvvyouforever]

rhys and john keats - modern au!rhysand x college student!reader ❥

↳ reader can barely handle the weight of college but rhysand is there to pick her up and help the pain.

↳ so self indulgent it hurts. set in a modern age where reader is a college student but rhysand is still high lord? idk honestly. mentions of stress, self doubt, comfort, crying. my day-to-day life essentially.

↳ requests are open! check characters in pinned post and link for requests is in my bio :)

the living room of your shared apartment with rhysand is a sight to behold. papers, printed copies of poems, books, pens, highlighters, and three energy drinks enclose you in a circular shape. it's horrifying and the sight is not eased by your messy hair, dark circles, and tear-stained cheeks. the semester was getting to you, clearly.

three papers were due for one class in the next two weeks. six quizzes were on the agenda and you had easily ten multiple page texts to read before class at 9am the following monday.

it had never been this stressful before but your time in college was coming to an end and that only ramped up the amount of work you had to complete. your final few semesters were certain to end you and you'd never get to walk across that stage to receive a blank page of paper which would eventually be replaced with your actual diploma. that's how it felt, at least.

minutes full of agony passed until you heard the familiar flapping of strong wings on the balcony. you didn't move from your sitting position as rhysand sauntered into the room, smile so wide it reached his violet eyes.

"my dear y/n," he whispered. his voice was so sweet that another tear forced its way out of your eye and down your cheek again. he must have sensed it, the stress pouring down your bond, or maybe he could somehow smell the salt of the tear as it dripped onto the page in your lap. he knelt down to meet your face and he pouted. "what's going on, darling?"

for the first time that night, you tore your gaze away from your work and met his eyes. "there's too much," you mumbled with a watery voice. "i can't do this."

he made a click with his tongue while examining the piles of work on the floor. his fingers lifted the assignment prompts and poems and syllabus requirements. more tears fell and you silently cursed each and every one of them.

"why can't you do it? what's challenging you?" he asked gently. it was not meant to condescend but he was trying to figure out how to help you in the best way possible.

"i feel like the analyses i'm coming up with are dumb, i don't understand the lines, the rhyme scheme is stupid, and i don't know what my thesis is for a moronic paper on keats should be. it's stupid and dumb and i'm stupid and dumb."

rhysand moved his hands to your cheeks before you could even react and pulled your face to meet his strong eye contact. his purple eyes bore into yours and he poured liters of reassurance down the bond. that mental claw in his head brushed against your mind in a calming manner. "do not say words like that, my love. you are so intelligent. and you're fully capable of managing everything on your plate."

you sniffed, feeling pathetic in his strong gaze. "i don't feel that way, though. i don't know how to deal with this stress, rhys. it's impossible. it's like this huge tower looming before me and i'm being asked to climb every single step in the best possible way or else i'll be pushed off of the top."

rhysand breathed out a sigh and his hand found your own. "i'm gonna help you climb that tower, okay?" he grabbed a brightly annotated copy of a keats poem and read over it.

"have you even read keats? or dickinson? do you know what a thesis statement is?" you asked. there was a bite to your words but it didn't faze rhysand in the slightest.

"of course i do, love. what do you think i do in my spare time when i'm not being an expert ruler? there's a small section i had put in the library, down on one of the lower floors, and it's full of human books. there's anthologies of authors, textbooks on writing, math theory, whatever you want, it's there. and i've perused it all. this poem-" he held up the printed keats "-is one of my favorites.

"so, the way i interpret this poem is that in order to withstand and stay strong in the face of suffering, we should indulge in poetry, beauty, and art. don't you think so?" he began to recite some lines which resembled this theme and suddenly, it all made sense.

he did that two more times with the other texts you had to write about. everything connected when he taught it and read it. you now had three outlines completed with well-developed thesis statements, annotated stories and poems for discussion, and three out of six quizzes were completed.

"thank you," you said, pouring as much love through your bond as you could. "really, thank you. this means so much to me."

"of course, my dear. shall i put on a sweater vest and glasses and replace your professor from here on out?"

you giggled and finally stood from the floor. the two of you walked into the kitchen to begin making a nutritious, filling dinner with your favorite velaris-sourced wine. "i would absolutely take you up on that offer if it didn't mean everyone in the class would be vying for your attention."

rhysand's arms wrapped around your midsection while you prepared food for dinner. his head leaned forward so that his mouth was by your ear. "i only have eyes for the smartest person in class."

can you tell i'm an english major? this is all very self-insert, i read the keats poem i talked about like two weeks ago :p

[panda-writes-kpop]

the homosexual underground ~ kim lip

a/n: so.... i had taken a break from writing since I got a few new video games, and I may or may not have developed a small obsession with Disco Elysium. ○_○ anyways, the brain went brrrrr and now we have a pride month fic!!! a win is a win for the girls, gays, and theys 😌 also this would've went up sooner but I did two rewrites of a fic I'm probably going to scrap 🫠 but enough about my writing struggles and onto the gayness :D

tw: implied fem! reader but it can be read as she/they or they/them instead, brief descriptions of a hanging and a dead body, mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, slightly ooc! kim lip, some dialogue was taken directly from Disco Elysium because it was too funny not to use, I use Jungeun instead of Kim Lip because it feels more fitting for this universe

summary: with time running out, you and your partner, kim jungeun, have to find a witness to a hanging. your partner-in-solving-crime gets a little too distracted by the potential witness, which leads to some revelations for both of you.

♡ Masterlist ♡

"Watch out!" 

You grab Jungeun's arm as she stumbles up the staircase.

"I'm alright." She flashes you a quick smile. "I’m still recovering from that hangover."

You frown before letting her arm go. When Jungeun turns away from you, you lightly cough to hide your growing embarrassment. 

You don't know why you've become so overprotective of your partner-in-solving-crime - perhaps it's pure pity for the girl? 

No, You think as your heart stirs in your chest, it's something else.

~

The two of you were assigned to this case from different police districts, due to poorly drawn district boundaries. You were supposed to meet your partner on Friday, but that was quickly pushed to Saturday, then Sunday... and it was Monday morning when you first met Jungeun.

You already had your expectations dropped to the floor, there was a dead body to be taken care of and your current partner, who was on the scene three days earlier, had not done anything to further your investigation. 

Even with all of this considered, you were still disappointed when Jungeun stumbled down the stairs of the local hostel - your agreed meeting point.

Wearing the most atrocious disco outfit known to man (seriously, who puts that many sequins on a blazer), Jungeun, in all of her unkempt glory, put out a shaky hand for you to grab.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that she had spent the last three days drinking booze and consuming substances of all kinds - you were surprised that her heart didn't give out before her mind did.

You weren't sure if it was the booze, drugs, the stress of policing, or some other stressor, but Jungeun had no recollection of anything to do with the case or her personal affairs. She didn't even remember her name when you first met.

Despite all of this, Jungeun did good police work. Albeit very unconventional, her methods did squeeze some answers out of the locals. Answers to her past, the current political situation in the local area, and crucial details to the case.

The case - a man was hanged in the back of a hostel cafeteria, the Whirling-in-Rags. Due to some brilliant detecting, you and Jungeun had managed to figure out that eight people were involved with the lynching.

The current suspects? A group of workers who were striking against their employer. Seven of them sat in a booth in the Whirling-in-Rags, with shoes that matched the ones at the crime scene. 

Where was the eighth person?

It was impossible to squeeze answers out of the workers - they were a tight-knit group, and you needed more than frozen footprints to convince them to talk.

So, it was time to explore the city and find out what secrets the workers were hiding from you and Jungeun.

By poking around, you had found a smoker in the apartment building behind the Whirling-in-Rags who was present for the crime. Jungeun confronted the smoker, who easily dazed your partner with her sunset-colored hair and honey-suckle voice. 

Despite this, Jungeun managed to find a key that the smoker pointed out. This key let you into the apartment building, and a quick conversation with the cleaner told you exactly which apartment the smoker could be found in.

You had climbed a set of stairs, when Jungeun had stumbled... which led you back to the present moment.

...Why her? Why did you feel so strongly about her?

~

You and Jungeun had made your way to the smoker's apartment, who was waiting outside for you with a cigarette in her hand.

"Gendarmerie! You found me." She smoothly takes a drag of her cigarette before offering you a brilliant smile.

You've worked in homicide long enough to know when someone is trying to win you over with charms, but your partner is completely oblivious to her act.

"We got your hint. Found the key right under that stone." Jungeun explains as the smoker chuckles.

"Beautiful." She comments before taking another puff of her cigarette.

A sparkle appears in her eye as she looks at Jungeun.

"So, tell me, are you here to make things right again?" The smoker asks.

"Honestly, I'm just trying to not screw anything up." Jungeun shrugs and relaxes her shoulders for a moment.

The glare that you send her immediately has her back at attention.

"Beautiful." The mysterious smoker repeats to herself.

A streetlight nearby illuminates her features, showing off her slender frame and picture-perfect face.

"I have some good news for you. My Sunday Friend is visiting me tonight. I told her about you, and she'd like to say hello. Step in, she's already waiting." The woman nods toward the door behind her before stepping aside to let you enter.

"Very well, I'll talk to her, but first I want to talk to you. I have so many questions." Jungeun tilts her head at the woman, who simply takes another drag of her cigarette.

"That's nice, but I don't have anything to tell you. It's my friend you're looking for, not me." The smoker looks around at the other apartments, which have lit windows to help combat the oncoming darkness of nighttime. "Besides, I've got to run."

A visible frown appears on Jungeun's face, and you can tell that she's disappointed that the smoker is leaving her again.

It takes every muscle in your body to repress a smile from appearing on your lips.

"But I just found you again!" She softly whines as you cough and cover your mouth.

The shit-eating grin that you're trying to repress is bubbling to the surface, but you won't let your guard down in front of the smoker.

"Just look at it..." The woman gestures to the various roads and buildings in the distance. "It's a beautiful night. Who's going to stay in on a night like this?"

"Only if you'll promise that we'll talk again. It's important." Jungeun stresses the last word as laughter starts to bubble over from your lips.

She's whipped and she has no idea. 

"We'll talk," The smoker reassures your partner, "But just not tonight. Take care, alright?"

With that, the woman disappears into the night, leaving you and your partner to investigate the person in the apartment.

When Jungeun turns to you, you have to bite down on your lip to prevent any more laughter from escaping.

"There's something so different about her that I just can't put my finger on..." Jungeun trails off as you let a small smile appear on your face.

"Different, of course." You fold your arms and wait for your partner's response.

"She smells good. Why on Earth does she smell so good?"

"She smells good..." The shit-eating grin just appears on your face, despite your efforts to stop it.

You have to squint your eyes and take a deep breath so you don't explode with laughter.

"That's weird, right?" Jungeun innocently asks.

"She smells good and that's weird." Your mouth tightens to hold back the laughter.

You're barely holding it together - how can she not know?

"Come on, detective. Let's go - we've got a potential witness to interview - her 'Sunday Friend', remember?" You nod at the door before Jungeun takes the hint and enters it.

~

After a good night's rest in the Whirling-in-Rags (which was rare, given your occupation), you walked downstairs to greet your partner for the day. 

You found her talking to the smoker, which intrigued you until you heard the phrase "the homosexual underground" being thrown around.

I don't know what that means, and I don't think I want to know what it means.

Once you realized that she was teasing Jungeun, you had to put your poker face back on for the day.

"Ready, detective?" You ask as you approach the two women.

"Yeah, I'm... ready." She pauses for a moment before looking at the smoker. "Thanks for giving me something to think about!"

Okay, now you really don't want to know what they were talking about.

~

"Hey, Lieutenant!" Jungeun lightly grabs your shoulder as you walk by the bookstore on your way to the canal.

"Yes?" You put your notebook back into your coat pocket to look at her.

"I want to ask you something..." She combs a piece of hair behind her head as she awaits your answer.

You hum lightly - you're not usually one to entertain her silly antics or random questions, but you've made some good progress on the case, which has put you in a good mood.

"Are you a part of the homosexual underground?"

You blink rapidly for a few moments before deeply sighing. 

So this is what the smoker and Jungeun were discussing earlier.

"Don't you have better things to think about, detective - like the case?" Your words have a biting edge to them that cause Jungeun to verbally back track.

"Yeah, but-"

"-But am I?" A smile briefly appears on your face before you regain your composure. "I'll spare you another 20-hour mind project - yes, I am. Now, let's get back to work." 

"You are?" Jungeun stares in amazement as you nod.

"Sometimes girls like girls." You shrug to yourself.

"I didn't mean to offend, I was just asking-"

"-for yourself?" You raise an eyebrow at Jungeun, who nods. "I figured it out yesterday when you were talking to the smoker. I didn't want to spoil the moment for you."

"What if there was a specific girl that I liked?" She asks as you pause before responding.

She's probably referring to the smoker - maybe they were talking for longer than I thought?

"What is she like?"

"Well, she has oceans of patience with me. She's kind but firm when she needs to be. Comforting yet composed and ready for action." Jungeun says as your eyes widen.

She's talking about you.

"Well," You cough to cover your embarrassment at the revelation occurring in your head, "you could always tell this girl how you feel. Maybe after the case is solved, the two of you could really get to know each other?"

Jungeun nods at your suggestion.

"You're right, I'll have to ask-" She blushes and bites her lip, "her after we solve the case. Let's go, Lieutenant!"

Jungeun charges ahead as you fall into a comfortable jog behind her. Maybe you can blame the wind and exercise for your flushed face instead of the woman in front of you.

[mystic-writings]

remember the nights | chapter eight — saturday

WORD COUNT — 1,967

WARNINGS — none

NOTES — GUYS THIS IS IT!! THE KICKOFF FOR THE ARC

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Your thoughts have been entirely scrambled since your trip to New York city. Even though it’s been an entire week, the ecstasy of seeing your friends again, of sharing your favorite parts of the city with Newt, still lingered. 

Despite it, you were happy to return to your normal life again. The Monday after the trip, a two week long group assignment was assigned in your photography class. It wasn’t anything too difficult, just a portfolio of three types of photography containing a small explanatory paragraph and two pictures for each photography type, all taken and edited by yourself and a partner — who had been chosen for everyone by Ms. Porter. Almost coincidentally, your assigned partner was Sonya. 

This particular assignment led you to today. For a while, you’d been working with Sonya on the assignment; taking the photos you wanted after school and working on them the next day during class. You’d agreed to go to her house today in order to compile whatever else you needed to finish off the assignment before its Tuesday due date. 

You stood on the porch of Newt and Sonya’s barn-style home, admiring it as you knocked on the door and awaited a response. 

Within seconds, Sonya pulled the door open with a bright smile and beckoned you inside. 

Stepping inside the quiet home, you noticed its similar layout to Brenda’s house, though it was much smaller. The nook that held Brenda's bookcase had been knocked down and was a pseudo art studio, with an easel and canvases and floating shelves to hold art supplies, not to mention the newspapers covering the floor to protect the hardwood. 

“We have the whole house to ourselves,” Sonya told you as you took in the home, walking over to the living room. “Mom’s on shift until 7, and Newt probably won’t be awake for a few hours, either.” 

You nodded, admiring the artwork covering the lovely blue walls. You almost forgot that their mother was a nurse at the hospital on the other side of town, but neither of the siblings talked about it much. But you weren’t surprised that Newt was still asleep — Thomas had mentioned several times that Newt’s sleeping habits were anything but regular, and were the main reason he didn’t hang out with people until late afternoon on weekends and holidays. 

As you sat down on the comfortable, worn couch and placed your bag by your feet, you glanced back at the art studio, before looking at Sonya as she came to stand to your left. “Is that yours?”

She glanced over at the area and laughed. “God, I wish. I’m more of a sketch and photography person. That’s my moms art.” 

“That’s nice,” you said, “it runs in the family, then? The art stuff,”

“Yeah, she usually paints there after work if she feels up to it, sometimes she takes a commission or two to make extra cash. Pretty much everything hung up in the house is hers, or it’s something her friends overseas have sent her.”

You nodded, taking in everything again. “Is she why you’re so into art?”

“Yeah, actually, she is,” Sonya nodded, sitting on the arm of the couch. “I always wanted to paint with her when I was young, and she got me a sketchbook one year for Christmas and that was it. Another year, not long after we moved here, I got a camera for my birthday. It’s nice to share that with her, y’know?”

You looked up at the girl and smiled, “Yeah, I do. My mom tried to teach me ballet as a kid, but I didn’t quite inherit her grace or balance, so…”

Sonya chuckled, standing as she told you she’d grab her backpack and a few snacks for you both to eat while you worked. While she was gone, you slipped your laptop from your bag, cracking it open and loading up the assignment document. Sonya came back in as you slid the laptop onto the coffee table, juggling two bowls of fruit, laptop tucked under one arm and two water bottles cradled in the other. 

Noticing her visible struggle, you stood and took the bottles and a bowl of fruit from her grasp, allowing her to grab her laptop and take her place to your right, the second bowl of fruit landing on the coffee table. 

Sonya snagged a piece as she opened her own laptop, and you opened and sipped on one of the water bottles before you decided to dive into what was left of the project. “I was thinking that you’d do the paragraphs and I’d go through and choose what photos we should use, and then we’ll edit everything together to make sure it sounds good enough?”

You nodded, opening the Google Drive that you’d put all the photos in. “Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll add you to the document so you can put the photos there when you’ve got them figured out.”

Since you’d also required a bit of extra research for the paragraph part of the assignment, you and Sonya spent the better part of an hour on just that section of the assignment. The nature photography paragraph was a breeze; but the other two seemed to be the worst types of photography you could have ever chosen. 

As you compiled the final bullet points for the third paragraph, heavy footsteps echoed from the stairs, catching yours and Sonya’s attention as you both leaned against the back of the couch.

Newt thumped down the stairs with little care, wearing a plain white shirt that was so worn and faded that it barely counted as white anymore, and slightly oversized blue plaid pajama pants that pooled at his feet. You could see indents on his arm and cheek from the way he’d slept, and his hair was entirely untamed, sticking up every which way, as though gravity had no effect on it. His face was scrunched up, eyes still adjusting to daylight, and he scratched lazily at his scalp as he reached the first floor, shuffling into the kitchen, where he grabbed a cereal box from the counter and began pulling out small handfuls, shoving them into his mouth without care. 

You bit back a laugh as he carried the box outside the kitchen, likely wanting to make his way back upstairs. There was no denying that, even though you were sure there was absolutely no way anyone could look cute after waking up, Newt somehow managed to. The thought caught you off guard, and you did your best to calm the burning that stung your cheeks and neck. 

Sonya, with an entire mischievous look on her face, called out, “Nice to see you’ve woken from your coma, prince charming.” 

Newt jumped, the cereal rattling in the box as it almost got sent flying from his palm across the hardwood. He scowled, “Bloody hell, Sonya! What that hell is wrong—” Newt’s eyes locked onto yours, his face falling as you smiled at him. 

Lifting a hand, you waved at the boy. “Hey,”

He blinked. “Sorry, uh— what are you doing here, exactly?”

“Group project,” Sonya responded. “I told you about it yesterday on the way home?”

“Yeah but I thought that wasn’t until later,”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up in your throat. “Newt, it’s like, 1 o’clock.”

“Oh,” the boy nodded simply before turning and heading up the stairs. 

You turned back to your computer, as did Sonya, your original train of thought completely lost. Newt’s departure seemed to only make things worse, because without his presence, your mind was invaded with thoughts about his appearance, about how you’d thought how cute he was — about how you still thought he was cute. It ran in circles, bouncing from what had just happened to the conversation you’d had with your friends the week before. 

“Y/n?” Sonya snapped you back to the present. 

“Sorry, what?”

The blonde girl laughed. “I said, we’re basically done. I can edit everything from here. You can go home if you want, I’ll text you when it’s done, so we can submit it together on Classroom.”

“Oh,” you said, nodding. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds good to me.”

As you packed up your laptop, Sonya furrowed her eyebrows at you. “Are you okay? You zoned out for the last little bit, there.”

You nodded, slipping your laptop into your bag. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking. Lotta stuff to do when I get home, y’know?”

You couldn’t help but feel bad about lying to Sonya, even if it was practically minuscule. You’d been getting quite close to her over the weeks, and you knew how much she cared about her friends, but there was just no way you were going to tell her that you’d been thinking about how cute you thought her brother was for who knows long, let alone what your friends had told you in New York. 

You helped the girl put the bowls of fruit back in the fridge, grabbed the water bottle she’d given you, and slung your bag over your shoulder. She led you back to the door, and you said your goodbyes, heading down the driveway and putting your headphones in. 

The walk home wasn’t too long, but it was filled with welcome distractions. The sounds of your favorite songs playing through your headphones, the beauty of the small town, and the slight chill of the cooling air that came with New York Octobers. 

Upon your arrival home, you found the house unsurprisingly empty. Maggie and your dad went to the city for the weekend to finalize wedding plans while your dad had a meeting in town, and Thomas was with Minho and Gally, who would likely later be joined by Newt. After a quick check in on Chuck, you found him immersed in a video game and decided not to interrupt him until you were deciding on what to make for dinner. 

Since you were in the clear to do virtually nothing for the next few hours, you rushed upstairs and into your room, dropping your bag by your desk and closing your bedroom door, releasing a heavy sigh as you rested your forehead on the wood. All your mind could focus on were the thoughts of Newt, and it was beginning to overwhelm you. It recalled every single detail you had committed to memory about the blond since you’d met in the parking lot — every word spoken, every inflection in his voice, every gesture he’s made, big or small. 

You wondered why he would go through such trouble to arrange just an afternoon of time with your friends, taking you to see them, spending time with them, when you knew that he much preferred sleeping until noon on the weekends. 

You thought about his hair, about how perfect you always thought it looked, even in the state you’d seen it in earlier. 

You thought about his voice, about the cadence and how it had a sort of gruffness to it; how it always soothed you. 

You thought about his eyes, how dark they were, but how beautiful they were under the sunlight. About how much he seemed to care about everyone, about how much he did for everyone. 

You thought about everything you knew about him, physical or emotional. How he could be so open and honest with you despite not knowing you for very long. About everything he’d gone through with his father and still came through it stronger. 

You thought about how he managed to make you feel as happy as you were before your mom died without thinking, without trying. How you felt as close to him as you used to feel with your mom, about how he was just so — oh. 

Oh.

series masterlist: @heliads @ghostofscarley @badbatch-simp24 @virginia-peters @third-broparcelicito @lamolaine @yes-fangirl-things (open!)

[copperbadge]

Hi, I have started a new office job! It's good, I like the people I work with and the work itself but it's sooo different from what I'm used to? I don't always feel I have enough to do, which is partly b/c of the time of year and cause I'm still new, only 30 days, but is this normal-ish? I am trying to be self directed and going thru my responsibilities but somedays, there's just not a lot? Have you ever found that in any of your jobs?

Yeah, a lot of office jobs are like this -- mine have almost all had a great deal of empty space in them. It's not universal for sure, but it's not at all unusual. The only time I've had an office job where I really didn't have any time free during the average week was right at the end of my last job when we were heavily downstaffed and I was doing about three peoples' worth of jobs. Even then, my schedule had some flex to it.

Especially as a newbie you're going to have a lot of downtime because people are giving you time to settle in, or they're trying to work out what they can assign to you, or they're waiting until you're fully trained to start assigning you more responsibility. And you may have less work at this time of year because a lot of people are out of office or for other reasons (this is actually a busy time for me and my crew, because we get a lot of end-of-year donations, but a ton of nonprofit work is backwards to the rhythms of normal for-profit office work).

I recommend never, ever telling anyone at work that you are not busy, however. For one, most people in any given office know that we aren't working at 100% for 100% of the time, because if we were we'd all be exhausted. Two, it means you'll be given more work. :D Which, okay, some of that is "Why work when you don't have to" but some of it is also that it is GOOD to have slack built into your schedule. It means you can ramp up when needed, and also that you get periods of brain rest, and also that you have time to work on independent projects should you wish, whether those are for work or, say, fanfic. I actually at this point tend to lower expectations by waiting to submit work -- I'll finish a project a day early and submit it the day it's due regardless.

In one job, I had to process documents being converted from PDF to Word, then pass them on to our proofer; he could only proof about four documents a day, but I could process about 20. So on Monday I'd process all 20 documents, and send him four of them -- and the rest of the week I'd send him four a day, and write fanfic for hours on end. Occasionally they gave me other jobs to do, but at that job I was essentially paid full time to work one day a week and show up to do nothing the other four.

The average office worker only works four hours a day. In some jobs I've literally booked out those four hours and fucked around the rest of the time. When I needed to, I'd break into Fuck Around Time in order to do more work, but otherwise -- they're paying me for results, not for sweat. As a front-desk receptionist it was baked in, actually; they said to me "There's going to be long periods of time where you are doing nothing. Your job at those times is to entertain yourself in ways that don't make it look like you're goofing off if someone important walks in." I wrote a lot of fanfic and novels, read a lot of books, did a shitload of origami. I loved that job; if it paid better I probably never would have left it.

Eventually, too, you will learn the rhythms of your job and workplace, and figure out when you're most likely to have empty time, so that you can build around it. For instance, on Fridays I get a data document that I have to evaluate and present to my colleagues the following Wednesday. Friday and Monday are therefore my busy days; Tuesday and Wednesday are for work I might have put off during the busy days. Thursday is generally just an open day; I can do long-term work projects, or I can spend the whole day dicking around. If a rush job comes in, I can push work into Thursday to get the rush job done, regardless of when it arrives.

In any case, you have a couple of options for continuing to look busy even when you aren't. If you can read on a computer screen, queue up some books or fanfic (be careful what you access on company internet, of course; I have more free range than most and am not monitored because my job is researched-based and I have to go to some weird shit places). Read newspapers you might have access to, or work on your own writing/creative endeavors on cloud-based apps. A couple of times a year I'd dedicate the empty space in a week to going through old files and organizing them, or cleaning out my email inboxes.

You can also, if you desire, work on independent projects for your actual employer. In my spare time I've built several tools to make my life easier, some of which I've shown to my bosses to impress them. Some just make my work go faster and my bosses don't know that, and don't have to. Again: they are paying for results, not for me to sit there like a booby doing work I don't have to do. If there are ways to streamline processes, you can use the time to think about implementing them (although ask other people they may impact, first). The other day I was giving a mailing list one last scroll-through before sending it to my boss, and idly realized there was a fantastic opportunity to do a little data visualization, so I whipped that up and added it to the email I was sending, like "Hey I also noticed this, see what you think."

For a while, in my last job, I had enough lee time in my schedule that most days I could work my second job as a transcriptionist while at my primary job. That can get perilous and I don't recommend it, but it can be done...

Anyway, be at ease, this is supposed to be the case and it's a great bonus when it actually does happen :D Do your work competently and efficiently and don't worry too much about the empty spots, just take breaks and keep yourself entertained.

[doodlenovaa]

MKAY

I GOTTA RANT ABT SMTH THAT HAPPENED AT SCHOOL WITHIN THE LAST 2-ISH HOURS

Story under the cut:

BIT OF BACKGROUND INFORMATION BEFORE WE START

So, This is my biology teacher, We’re gonna just call her Mrs. Bio

Well, last week I came to school, Monday, Mrs. Bio wasn’t there, my friend Eevee (she loves Pokémon) had told me and my friends in the gc we had, we were thrilled because the thing about her is that,

That’s not a joke either! She will get upset if we get out of our seats 5 seconds before the bell rings, not exaggerating. And our teacher assistant, she’s chill, for the most part,

But, last week on Monday, when she wasn’t there, we were given a 2-paged packet, no biggie I get it done before class ends, I turn it in,

The very next day when I get in there and Mrs. Bio handed packets back, she didn’t give me mine back, I wasn’t that bothered about it because oh I already did the assignment

BUT NO

She gave me a new one when she seen me drawing and listening to music, because she asked me why I wasn’t ’doing my work’

It was already done

I did it the day before

Now, I didn’t re-do it- nuh uh I refused to

Same thing with the next because we spent three days on it, (we have a few days per assignment unless it’s like,, a YouTube video we need to watch, then it’s due at the end of class)

So, yesterday we were given study guides (our assignments we did all stapled together) and that one 2-Paged assignment? Wasn’t there, so I finished an assignment that’s due tomorrow, then I watched YouTube

Now, note, Eevee wasn’t here today because they had Girl Scout stuff to do, but when the Mrs. Bio said we can go to the lounge if we had all our work done, she told me I couldn’t go

It was the fucking packet

I argued that I had it done, and she refused to believe me, like she didn’t even look through the papers on her desk, she said I didn’t do it and tried to make me do it again. I once more refused and I verbally said I’m not going to do it,

Oh- and she then proceeded to say, that for the 3-day length that this assignment was given she watched me mess around and draw

All three days

.

SHE WAS ONLY THERE FOR TWO DAYS.

Best part about this? I have 4 people as witnesses for all of this, 3 watched me get my work done, Eevee, my friend (fuck it we call him robo) Robo, and my friend (his initials (middle and first)) EP,

The fourth person was in front of me, and my friend Robo was nearby, when she said this wonderful line

‘I will videotape you doing nothing the next time this happens’

For those of you unaware, without mine or my parents/guardians consent? That was illegal.

So, me and Robo then reported this to an admin that we ran into the hall,

This all happened in roughly 20 minutes. And this isn’t the first time Mrs. Bio was reported, this is the second time from my class specially that she’s been reported,

—

thank you for reading this,

I SWEAR ILL UPDATE YALL ON WHAT HAPPENS

[houseofbrat]

I have a theory. Bear with me.

What if - what if - the whole kate being ill is just a lie and a distraction ? And really, Kate's been put on notice and she's with her family,  who are suspiciously dead silent through all this, and the sickness story is just cover for William to debut as a single man. Something is very, very odd and off about this whole thing.

He just allowed pics of him and a woman getting cozy at the last event he did and he announced eartshot I'm Capetown without saying if he or kate would be able to attend. I have a feeling he'll be attending solo.

Doesn't it make sense? They could have all made a deal behind closed door on how to roll out the divorce narrative in a way that makes it gradual and let's the public get used to seeing the single dad with other women? 😮

And in return Kate gets a lot of control over the kids (other than the boarding school issue), lots of money to keep her comfortable and of course, bailing out her parents!

And this explains why kate wasn't at last year's earth shot (the story about George having exams is ridiculous) because they need to separate her from earthshot, it needs to be associated with william alone and lead us to the sexy (barf) single young (not) dad phase of his life, complete with lots of news stories about new romances to keep the press happy.

I could be out to lunch, but I don't think I am. 🤔

Here's what I agree with you on:

Kensington Palace isn't being honest about Kate and is engaging in deception. A deception that will harm both Will & Kate but will unquestionably hurt Kate more. And Kate didn't attend Earthshot in Singapore due to George's exams.

Here's what I don't agree with you on:

1. William having an affair. Having affairs is always a risky thing to do when you're married, regardless of fame, wealth, or royalty. William is not a huge risk taker, and certainly not in his personal life. He is a boring dude, who got the reputation for being a "catch" because he was good looking and a royal. That's it. 2. I haven't seen any pictures of William being "cozy" at the Air Ambulance Charity banquet, but I doubt they're that exciting. Also, if William was actually having an affair, Fleet Street would have posted some anecdote to support that insinuation by now. They haven't. Because he's not having one and isn't likely to in the near future. 3. I'm not sure whether or not William (or William along with Kate) will be going to Capetown for Earthshot. Earthshot has usually been held in November, which is eight to nine months away. What I do know is that it was the most lackluster location announcement I have seen regarding the Earthshot Prize to date. It literally looks like a slapdash announcement made to fit a deadline. You know, a situation where a homework assignment is due, but you aren't going to be turning in your best work, yet you turn something in anyway because it's better than getting a zero. That's what this announcement looked like. And the real question is: Why? Why make this kind of announcement on a Friday, which is pr dumping ground? Why did they not make this announcement next week on Monday or Tuesday, where they could also release more information, such as the dates of Earthshot Week? And also drum up more interest and excitement? Last year Singapore wasn't announced until 14 May, after the coronation. Why announce so early this year? It makes no sense.

So, yes, I have no doubt there are weird shenanigans going on at the Kensington Palace communication office and Adelaide Cottage. Kate is allegedly still so ill that William could only do a whopping two engagements this week, yet she is well enough to travel to Anmer Hall at Sandringham, whether it is by car or helicopter. Priorities.

However, William cannot even have his press office confirm that he can do his regularly scheduled engagements this month or in the future after he gets back from another vacation to Sandringham. He has done a whopping three engagements for the year. Meanwhile, King Charles--who has cancer and is receiving cancer treatments--will be back in London next week for some face-to-face meetings.

But we're not supposed to side-eye The Prince & Princess of Wales because if we do then we're just jelly haterz.

Even though all of the UK press knows that the way Will & Kate are conducting themselves is completely abnormal.

But, hey, if Will & Kate want a war with the UK press, then they'll get one. Never pick a fight with the press because the press lives for them, particularly in the UK.

Will & Kate shouldn't have violated certain agreements, but they did. And breaking an agreement with the UK press is like violating an armistice agreement, i.e. a declaration of war.

"They've broken the armistice."

And there isn't going to be a special place for Kate to jump to in order to get out of this one. No trip to Mustique will fix this.

Can't wait to watch it from the US of A.

[endofyourdecadence]

i have some news that i'm very excited about yet simultaneously terrified of sharing, but i really want to share it, so i am begging you to keep your opinions to yourself if you are going to invalidate my identity upon reading the post.

so, i had an (unrelated to gender) endocrinologist appointment today (basically it's the doctor i see for my diabetes but since she's an endo i figured i'd shoot my shot on this), and i worked up the courage to ask my doctor about going on estrogen, as i had my ovaries yeeted five years ago and stopped testosterone three years ago since it was making my dysphoria worse after a certain point. and she agreed to start me on a mid-level dose of estrogen!

i have had a hell of a journey to get to this point, trying to figure out how i'm comfy presenting and what my goals are with regard to transition, with some regrets and missteps along the way. for clarity, i'm cafab intersex and nonbinary. i identified as a binary trans man for years because i didn't know that dysphoric nonbinary people were a thing, and by the time i figured out i wasn't a dude, i had already legally changed my name and gender marker. the gender marker has been changed back to female to match my birth certificate since i'm no longer on testosterone so when i moved to a different state they had to go by my assigned sex at birth, and if they ever legalize marriage for people on the type of disability i'm on, i'll probably just change my first name and middle name when i change my last name to my fiance's. hopefully someday ohio gets an X marker for gender so i don't have to misgender myself on official paperwork.

i was on testosterone for seven years and while a lot of the changes were affirming, the big thing that bothered me was the body shape changes. i have never really wanted an inverted triangle body shape (not a judgment on anyone with that body shape, i just feel as if it's too overtly masculine for me to be comfortable having on myself), and seeing it in the mirror, watching my hips and ass seemingly disappear, made me incredibly uncomfortable. i wouldn't exactly describe it as dysphoria at first, but after a while, it did get to a point where i was dysphoric about it. i have always felt somewhat uneasy around men with broad shoulders and the inverted triangle body shape due to trauma (it makes me feel like they're going to hurt me since they look so strong), and seeing it in the mirror was extremely upsetting.

now, if i'm cafab, why do i need estrogen? well, first of all, by the time i was in my twenties, my ovaries were essentially non-functional due to the whole intersex thing. so at age twenty-two, i had a total hysterectomy where they took my entire internal reproductive system, including the ovaries, tubes, uterus, and cervix. i'm essentially a cafab eunuch. my body has basically no sex hormones in it anymore, because it is incapable of producing them in an amount that would have any effect on me.

anyway, i'll probably pick up my prescription on monday if my insurance doesn't pitch a fit over my chart still saying my sex is male since they changed it after i got my plumbing yeeted.

[partnersincrimesuau]

Another Few Updates ☆ﾟ･:*:･｡★

Yes I am aware it's Sunday. Yes I am aware I haven't posted Chapter 2 Page 43 yet. Yes I am aware my Information Centre says "Pages posted every Friday at 8pm Central Australian Time". Yes I am aware I haven't posted a page on a Friday since, like, January.

I'm getting off track LOL

UPDATE NUMBER ONE - Where's Page 43?

I have one week left of school before a two-week holidays, and I'm SWAMPED with homework for now. For clarity; I have three assignments due on Monday, two more I finished today, and one I finished last week. I hope this clears some things up... and explains why I'm so behind on Partners In Crime.

Page 43 IS finished, and IS ready to upload. However, I am still working on Page 48; and for those who don't know, I like to always be ten pages ahead of my posting page. Therefore I SHOULD be working on Page 53. Once the holidays start and my assignments are finished, I can catch up on these pages. Some of them shouldn't be as long as others so hopefully it won't take ages to finish them.

I plan on posting Page 43 next week. So sorry for the delays, I know there's been a few this chapter. I'm not doing this on purpose.

UPDATE NUMBER TWO - A brief solution

It's currently 12:03am as I'm writing this sentence and I'm about to jump into bed, so yes I won't be posting anything after this post tonight. HOWEVER! I've decided that tomorrow, instead of posting Page 43, I'll post some concept art!!! I feel like that'll be a good placeholder for now. There are plenty of concepts for earlier pages that I plan on posting, and I might throw some early drawings of Condor in as well!!! ^^

UPDATE NUMBER THREE - Maintenance

I finally went through every "infected" page and fixed the 'next' and 'previous' links. For anyone who didn't know, there were a ton of early Chapter 2 pages that were "infected" somehow, by something I can hardly begin to explain. The "Chapter Start" links, as well as the "FAQ" and Discord links were completely untouched. They worked fine. But EVERY SINGLE 'NEXT' OR 'PREVIOUS' LINK, FOR SOME REASON, JUMPED TO THE MOST RECENT PAGE!!! There were pages from December that sent you to the page I posted eight days ago - it made NO sense.

Thankfully, I've gone back and fixed every one of them. HOPEFULLY, it won't happen again. (If it persists, PLEASE tell me. Don't hesitate to comment saying "Jinxy this page has a disease, it's doing the link thing again" - that's actually really helpful. Shoutout to the readers who did tell me btw, you guys are legends!)

UPDATE NUMBER FOUR - IT'S THE BEST MONTH OF THE YEAR!!!

IT'S JULY!!! That means... NINETEEN DAYS UNTIL MY BIRTHDAY!!! (It's on the 21st of July for those in other timezones, lolll). I'll probably be partying with my besties then so you won't find me online, but I'll probably do a little picture of myself like I did last year. Just thought I'd mention it here, haha.

Anyways I think that's about it... it's now 12:14am and I might go to bed. Or I might catch up on Miraculous Ladybug because I heard the finale for Season 5 is out...? We'll see ^^

Thanks for your patience everyone!!!! See you tomorrow ^^

[joshscurlyhair]

☽ 𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕔 - 𝕛𝕠𝕤𝕙 ☽

Summary: Meet Willow, she likes to spend her time in cafes and read. She likes to be her own person and is mainly introverted, what happens when she unexpectedly meets Josh in a cafe. Josh can’t seem to take his eyes off of her, there’s just something about her that’s incredibly intriguing. Will he go up and talk to her?

Warnings: language

☾Join the Taglist!☽ : @jordierama @fangirl-problems-blog

Word count: 500

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“For Willow?!”, the barista yells in the air as I subtly jolt going up to the counter where he set it on. I gave a nod and a smile then sat down next to the window.

I got out my laptop doing some assignments typing away on a APA paper I needed to finish writing. I took a sip of my iced drink and began to notice that the cafe was getting a bit packed for a Wednesday.

Hmm interesting

I shrugged it off and continue to type away on my paper. I took another sip of my iced macchiato but couldn’t shake my gut feeling of someone staring at me. I looked up and locked eyes with a guy who had curly locks, facial hair that was placed above his lips and below his chin. He was wearing light brown khakis, white shirt with a couple of layered necklaces over a brown winter coat.

He’s definitely attractive

He smirked at me and I gave a shy smile and looked down due to nerves and began typing once again.

“For Josh?!”, the barista yelled out

Josh, that’s his name

You saw he took his hot coffee and turned around searching for where to sit. He began making his way towards me, I looked down.

Oh shit he’s coming towards me

I could hear footsteps come closer to me until I saw white converse on the floor. I looked up and saw him give a cheeky smile. “Hi! Is this seat taken?”, he asked pointing to the empty chair that was in front of me. “U-uh no go ahead” I said giving a smile and adjusting myself in my seat.

Holy shit holy shit

He took a seat and placed his coffee directly in front of him. He adjusted himself in the seat then gave another smile. “I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you-“, “Oh no not at all! I was just finishing up” I say lying through my teeth. I closed my computer and placed it in my bag then adjusted myself in my seat once more. He clears his throat, “What’s your name?” He asks as he sipped his hot coffee. “Willow, I’m guessing yours is Josh?”, “Ah stalker huh?” He raised an eyebrow that I found attractive as hell. I gave a chuckle, “No I just heard the barista shout your name”

He gives a chuckle, “I’m just teasing ya” he says giving a wink. I began to instantly blush as I looked down. “You come here often?” I looked back up trying to keep the conversation open ended. “Yeah, I come here maybe like three times a week”, “Hmm how come I never seen you around then?” I raised an eyebrow as he chuckled noticing I was mimicking his movements. “Well, when you usually come here?”, “Only Friday through Sunday”.

“Ahhh that’s why. I come Monday through Wednesday.. maybe I need to start coming Friday through Sunday then” He says giving another wink. I chuckled and bit my lip nervously. “Well, Willow what are your hobbies?”. There was a slight pause to me thinking and gathering my thoughts. “Well, u-uh I like to read, write and maybe draw sometimes” I say giving a shy smile. “Mmm your very enigmatic”, you chuckle “I suppose I get called that a lot”.

He stared at my lips then up to my face analyzing me. “Yeah but, you’re very intriguing. Like something is pulling me to you”. You couldn’t help but start to blush again. He kept the consistent eye contact and smirked

This man has GAME!

There was a ringing in the air

“Ughh one sec”, he grabbed his phone out. “What? I’m busy”, “Seriously? Okay I’m on my way”

He hung up and looked at me. “I’m sorry I’m gonna have to go, my brother somehow lost our music sheet that we need for our next practice”

He’s in a band??

“Look I do find you very intriguing and I think I would like to get to know you. Would you like that?” He asks placing his phone in front of me with the new contact screen showed up. I began to type my phone number then my name in the blanks. I pushed the phone to him, “Yes I would Josh”

[ctrsara]

200 Park Avenue

Read on AO3 (this one got way too long to just put on Tumblr!)

@Comfortember 2022 Alt #2 Frozen and #25 Lost

Peter Parker knew this was a bad idea, but what was he supposed to do? He’d gotten off on the wrong train stop, his phone was dead, and he actually wasn’t that sure where he was compared to where he needed to be. He definitely had no idea how to get to the Morgan Library & Museum OR back home at the moment, and the extremely cold rain that had just started falling had him wet and nearly frozen in his inadequate winter gear. Why hadn’t he checked the weather before he made plans this evening? Why hadn’t he listened to Ned, who said he should have done this sometime last week?

As he ducked into the lobby of Stark Tower, he hoped he could fly under the radar and just warm up for a few minutes. Maybe if he took his soaking jacket off he could actually stop shivering. He really had no idea what his next step was, but he was sure he’d be able to think better if he got out of the freak winter storm.

His art history teacher was offering a pretty substantial chunk of extra credit if he spent an hour at any kind of art exhibit and wrote an essay on his experience with three pieces. And Peter desperately needed extra credit in that class. 

He had also procrastinated though, with all that had been going on with uh, Spiderman , and Homecoming, and all the insanity that had been, and now this extra assignment was due Monday. The Morgan Museum had free Fridays from 5-7, so he had taken the train there after AcaDec today. After several delays he had managed to misread which stop he needed to get off at, and then when he’d thought he could probably walk the last half mile to the museum, he’d gotten hopelessly turned around. Even though he didn’t have his Spiderman suit with him (he and Aunt May, and Mr. Stark and Aunt May were still hammering out the details of the circumstances wanted before she would be willing to let him continue that) he was about ready to climb a building so he could figure out where he was compared to where he needed to be. And just hope no one saw him.

That was all before the clouds had decided to let loose. He just happened to be less than a block from Stark Tower (which was impossible to miss) when it started raining, and without even thinking, he instinctively headed straight for what he hoped was a safe place.

So now he stood inside, dripping and shivering, and unfortunately both security and the employees at the reception desk had all noticed him. It was “after hours,” so there wasn’t a lot going on there. He knew Mr. Stark had said the sale of the building was on hold after all the chaos the Vulture had wreaked, but Peter suddenly realized just because he knew the owner of the building didn’t mean anyone else knew him, or that he’d be welcomed here.

An intimidating security guard casually approached him. Peter wanted to bolt, but he just couldn’t make his feet move to return to the frigid downpour outside. 

“Evening, son. Can I help you?”

“Um, I was just coming in out of the rain for a few minutes?” Peter managed to get out.

“Well, I can understand that, but the problem is we’re technically closed, and we especially can’t have unaccompanied minors in here. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Peter cursed inwardly. He was still actively shivering, and probably making a puddle on the floor. The guard looked sympathetic, but also serious about his directions. Peter had just turned to go take his chances outside again, when a light Irish lilt interrupted them.

“Mr. Parker, you’re expected in the penthouse. Hurry along and don’t keep them waiting.”

Finish Reading on AO3

[voxtism]

I'm having a crisis instead of doing my final project which is due the day after tomorrow 👍 we’re one minor inconvenience away from a full panic attack tonight boys ‼️ why the fuck do my teachers assign big final projects three days before finals week ⁉️ theyre due on Monday and I am losing my mind- we also have an inspection of our apartment on Monday so I spent part of today desperately cleaning my room which I haven’t cleaned in .... uhhhh ... 4? 5? 6 months?????? idk man it was Awful.... it took two hours of cleaning and picking up clothes and trash and dishes to reach the FLOOR 😭 except for the pathway I kick through every day to get to my bed and back, my room was impossible to walk through. um please do not call me gross/weird for it though I have been incredibly mentally ill and cleaning my room takes so much time and energy :(( anyway I am going to scream my fucking head off I hate my teachers ‼️