#i missed this monday because I haven’t been feeling well at all lately

[ra-vio]

I thought doing this meme would help me draw and that visually seeing how my style changed would make me feel good.

[outsideratheart]

A Return Worth Celebrating (Fridolina Rolfo x reader)

A/N: Here’s a little something to celebrate Frido’s return to team training!

Monday’s had the reputation of being terrible but not this Monday. No, today was a good day. Today was the day that Fridolina Rolfö, your girlfriend, returned to team training. 

“You ready?” You ask as you walk out onto the field together. 

“As I’ll ever be” the blonde wore a smile on her face but you knew deep down that she was nervous. The two of you had spent the night previous cuddled in bed discussing what the blonde was feeling and why she was feeling it. 

Before you reach the group you wrap your arm around her waist, pulling her close as you place a gentle kiss on her hairline. 

“You’ve got this. You are strong and you are powerful” 

“What? I’m not beautiful today?” Fridolina knows the mantra well, you had made her say it to herself whenever she was having a bad day. 

“You, Miss Rolfö, will always be beautiful in my eyes. Now let’s get going. I’ve haven’t been late once this season and I won’t have you tarnishing my impeccable record” you jog off towards your team mates. 

“Right because I’m the bad influence out the two of us” the swede says sarcastically. Everyone knew it was you who corrupted her. 

The session goes better than Frido expected. Her passes were accurate, her movement fluid and much to her surprise her fitness wasn’t far off from where it was before. It did come as a shock to find your cubby empty as she entered the locker room. She assumed you had gone for a shower until she saw a note sitting in her locker. 

I had to go. See you at home. 

I love you, always. 

Y/N. 

“What no celebrations for your return?” Ingrid asks. 

“Looks like she had a meeting or something. We discussed our schedules on Friday and she didn’t mention anything. It must be something last minute” Frido defended your actions even if they had hurt her. 

She had been so excited to be back on the pitch for numerous reasons but being able to play with you again was top of that list. You seemed so happy for her this morning and she automatically assumed you would do something together to celebrate. 

Little did she know you did have plans to celebrate. Your celebrations were a little bit more intimate than what was planned with the team. 

As on queue, Frido walks into your shared apartment just as you finish setting the table. 

When the blonde walked through the hallway she smelt home, more specifically a home cooked meal. Then, as she turned the corner, she saw you standing next to the candle light table. 

“Baby, i’m so proud of you” 

She was rendered speechless. 

“Say something, please” you ask politely. 

She says nothing. She lets her actions do the talking and you don’t complain at all. You loved moments like this when it was just the two of you. When you could express your love with kisses and other displays of affection. 

“Is that my —“

“Kött” you pull away from her hold to read the name of the meal of your hand “Köttbullar” 

Frido pulled your hand towards her to see if you had really written down the name of the meal. Lo and behold, you had. 

“I think I did it right. I was this close” you pinch your thumb and index thumb very close together “to going to Ikea and buying some” 

You follow to the take and pull the chair out for her. 

“For you, m’lady” 

“Why thank you” she kisses your cheek as a show of appreciation. 

You watch nervously as she takes a bite of the meatball. It mimicked the nervous energy you feel as you watch a team mate take a penalty. She takes her time and it feels like she chews it 100 times before giving any indication of whether it’s good or not. 

“5 stars” Frido does a little happy dance in her seat “who knew this is what you were preparing for when you ate my Mamma’s Köttbullar by the bucket full” 

“It was all apart of my master plan” you raise your eyebrows playfully. 

“Is that right? What else does this master plan entail?” Frido asks curiously. 

“Stick around and you’ll find out” 

You had a lot planned for you and Fridolina. Some things had been ticked off, some were in motion and others were due in the future. 

[illiterateaffairs]

DISTRACTIONS SCENE BETWEEN | STAY LIKE THIS FOREVER

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 1,190

summary: the first time you spend the night at jamie’s place. this takes place between chapters three and four of distractions. 

A/N: here is the first missing scene from distractions! sorry this is posted so late but it’s still monday for me! i plan on doing a few of these here and there, and will be posting another for ted day tomorrow. please let me know if there are any other moments, either mentioned or implied, you’d like to see from distractions! because i had a busy memorial day weekend, i haven’t had the chance to get chapter seven of distractions in a perfect place, so want to make sure you guys have some small things to hold you over. chapter seven should be out friday!

distractions masterlist 

There were a lot of things that brought you to Jamie’s door that night. 

One was homesickness. You had made the mistake of going on Facebook - a mistake in and of itself - and happened upon pictures of your extended family at a get-together for God knows what. It really didn’t matter. It was just a reminder of what you were missing, even before moving to another continent. You could count on one hand the number of times you got to go home to see your dads in the last few years, and lately it's been hitting you harder how much you missed them.

The second was also Facebook's fault. As you continued scrolling through the app in a depressed haze, you’d happened upon a post from Mason’s mom. God you really needed to unfriend him and his whole family. She had posted pictures of their family; Mason and Chloe included. Without even thinking, you’d clicked on Mason’s profile and saw his updated status.

In a relationship.

He and Chloe were Facebook official. 

While this didn’t surprise you, it still didn’t make you feel good. It was embarrassing the hold he still had on you, even though you’ve long since realized you deserved better than him. It just wasn’t fair that he got to flaunt his perfect, new relationship even though he fucked up and cheated. Eventually, you knew you’d stop caring, but right now all you needed was to get your mind off of your ex and his new girlfriend immediately. 

The third reason you came to see Jamie was a bit more complicated, and you didn’t even fully understand it. The reason being that you just really wanted to see him. You chalked it up to being lonely and horny, and didn’t dwell on the swirling feelings any longer than you should’ve. 

You knocked on his door around 10PM. You were worried he might already be asleep, or out training with Roy. You felt more relieved than you should when you heard the pads of his feet approach the front door. When he opened it, his first reaction was one of surprise, before his expression became pleased. He barely had time to formulate a greeting when your lips were on his. Jamie didn’t need instructions. He immediately hoisted you into his arms and carried you to his room. 

While you were used to Jamie’s generosity in bed, he was extra giving that night. You’d quickly learned it was because he’d sensed your tension. After round three or four - you couldn’t keep track - you and Jamie were laying side by side. He’d slowly turned to face you, and pulled his sheets up to cover you both. He gently thumbed your chin, coaxing you to face him as well. 

“Are you alright?” he’d asked softly. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Jamie shrugged, “You’re quieter than usual.”

You chuckled, “What? I wasn’t loud enough for you before?”

He rolled his eyes, but smirked slightly, “No, I mean, you’re usually more talkative.”

“Are you saying I talk too much?”

You realized his hand was still making contact with your face when he reached down to lightly pinch your shoulder, “Stop it. I like when you talk, but you’ve barely said a word since you’ve been here. And while I definitely do not mind the surprise visit, you’ve never come to my place before. Just wondering if something happened.”

You sighed, no longer able to meet his eye. “It’s really nothing. Was just feeling off today.”

Jamie hummed, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head, “Not right now.” 

“Okay. Do you want to talk about anything?”

“Hmm,” you basked in his attention and the way he was playing with your hair for a second, “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

“What?” Jamie let out a confused laugh. 

“You know, like when you were a kid, did you always want to be a football player, or did you want to be something else?”

“Huh,” Jamie thought for a beat, “I feel like I don’t remember a time when I didn’t want to be a footballer. After my mom got me into it, I never looked back.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” you mused.

“What about you?” he asked after a few seconds. 

“I think in kindergarten I wanted to be a ballerina because I watched Barbie Swan Lake.”

“Of course.”

“And then when I was 9 or 10 I wanted to be a meteorologist. Or no, a storm chaser!” 

Jamie laughed loudly, “What? Why?”

“I don’t know. I watched the Wizard of Oz and thought tornadoes were cool as hell.”

“I think that’s the opposite of what you’re supposed to think.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not like other girls,” you both laughed. “But then in middle school, I took my first creative writing class and I was hooked. I felt like I could write forever.” 

“Is that what you did before you came here?” he questioned.

“Sort of. I wrote for an advertising agency, but I wasn’t passionate about it. What I really want to do is be an author,” you admitted quietly.

“Yeah? That’d be so cool.” Jamie whispered, still twisting your hair between his fingers. 

“I think so, too,” you smiled a bit, “But I just haven’t had any inspiration lately.”

Jamie nodded, “Well I bet when you do start writing again, it’ll be great.”

“How would you know? You’ve never read my writing.”

“I just know.” After another few beats of silence, he continues even quieter, “Would you ever let me read something of yours, when you do?”

You studied him through your lashes, before giving him a tiny smile of your own. “Maybe,” you respond coyly. “You have to promise to lie to me and tell me you love it even if you hate it, though.”

Jamie huffs, “I doubt that’ll happen, but I promise.” 

“Thank you.”

You and Jamie kept chatting for a few more minutes before your eyelids grew heavy. As you drifted off, you note how comfortable and at ease you feel with Jamie. Whether it's when you’re hooking up, or just enjoying each other’s company, you feel nice and safe. It was a new feeling, and you didn’t know what it meant, especially when you were half asleep, but you liked it. 

The two of you slept soundly, wrapped up in one another, until around 4AM when you heard pounding coming from the front door. Without opening your eyes, you groan as you feel Jamie pull himself out of bed and out of your arms. 

“I’m sorry, it’s Roy,” he whispered, “I’ve got to get to training.” 

You let out another noise of protest and Jamie chuckled quietly. 

“Next time we stay at my place where Roy can’t find us,” you mumbled tiredly.

“Sounds good to me.”

You barely registered what must have been Jamie kissing your cheek before you’re falling back asleep. 

You were fully out again as Jamie quickly and quietly got ready. Before he jogged downstairs to meet Roy, he indulged himself with one last lingering look at your sleeping form. 

God, you were cute.

A/N: once again, please let me know what you think!! and if there are any other missing scenes you’d like to see! <3 p.s. anyone who asked to be on the taglist today/yesterday I will make sure you’re included in my post tomorrow!

Taglist: @atabigail @boundtomyfate @sammysgirl1997 @lil-tracys @shephard17895 @alaspice @itsbarbraann @redpool @drmeghanjones @straightforwardly @alex-sulli @aiyaiy @artemismaximoff @roadtoself-love @theloud-yet-quietone @forcesofgrief @kirisimpster @geek-and-proud @grippleback-galaxy @lalla-04p @gabbycoady13 @royalestrellas @qardasngan @creationcitystreet-em @percysaidnever @emily-b @mrfitzsimmons @k-n-e @agentstarkid @legobatmans9thab @mrsprongs25 @escapismqueen @sokkigarden @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @dollfaceyourfear @dicgohargreeves @heyitz-julia @vampirodelascajas @grxcesmind @lizziel1410 @bcon24 @looooooooomis @queen-of-dumbasses @moseyluvs @alipap3 @amachira @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @daphneblakeswife​ @chelseamount​ @k0z3me​ @lickitandsendit3​ @miakreid​ @shimmeringfrenchie​  @meg-ro​ ​@spookysins @a-sweet-little-fangirl @optimisticsandwichgladiator @marveltg365 @ringpopdust @gcidrvsh @beardsplitter @scaramou   @ibong-adarnaaa @piper570 @eviemae263782 it wouldn’t let me tag the last few of you, let me know if its something with your settings, otherwise i can keep trying in future updates! <3  ​

[99zurins]

summary: wonwoo knows a lot, especially how your thoughts get into your head. when he knows you had a bad week, he wants to shower you with the gentle love you always give him when his thoughts get into his head.

note: god its been ages since i posted but alas!! this was a request for a friend of mine, and it helped me get out of my writing slump. enjoy <3

pair: f!reader x jeon wonwoo

tags: soft bf!wonwoo, SMUT (minors dni), communication during sex, kink exploration, spit, slight choking, dirty talk, slight degradation, multiple positions (sorta), safe sex, oral (both m. and f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), orgasm denial, edging, pet names (wonwoo calls reader baby, sweetheart, good girl, princess), soft dom!wonwoo, reader goes into subspace, wonwoo takes care of reader, reader works at a clinic

word count: 6.9k

[ wonu : babe

wonu: how are you feeling? ]

like shit, you want to text him. i’m not ok. so much, too much, is happening all at once your brain doesn’t know what to process first. it’s been like this from monday morning: you were short-staffed because three co-workers got sick, people kept complaining about the wait times, what could you do, you just work here. tuesday to thursday was absolute hell: how does someone mess up inventory TWICE? your co-worker doesn’t know shit. how did she get hired anyway! you don’t want to even think about friday’s disaster. you called in sick today, because fuck the clinic, and made sure you swapped your closing shift at the bookstore with someone else. your head is in chaos, all while managing a terrible migraine.

from the tylenol, the long naps, to the drops of essential oil on your pillow– none of it isn’t even helping.

you haven’t spoken to your boyfriend for a few days, there’s the i love yous, occasional memes or cat pics he sends, but it’s been quiet. he’s been busy too, he got hired by a better design company, meaning better schedules and much well-deserved salary, and has been finishing up his last few shifts on his secondary job at a milk tea shop. but since he’s one of the long time workers at the shop, he’s been busy training newbies to replace him, hence why he’s been awake earlier than you, and comes home so late. you know he’s home when he quietly slips into bed after a shower, snuggling you from behind, holding your small frame. but you miss the cuddles when you play games together, the shared silence with him, looking at dumb cat videos. everything about him, really, you miss. even though you live with him now.

[wonu: are you at your bookstore job tonight?]

you first tell a truth: you called in sick for both of your jobs. then, you lie, saying your friend-slash-coworker is coming over to talk about stuff.

[wonu: don’t lie to me

wonu: babe

wonu: i know you had a bad week]

it was just busy, you respond. you’re busy, baby. you’re probably tired too. we can talk about this later.

[wonu: i’m not ever tired when it comes to you

wonu: i’m gonna leave work right now

wonu: idc]

you feel tears well up. you not replying back is all he needs to know.

wonwoo shows up in twenty minutes, holding a bag of takeout, bubbletea, and a cute stuffed animal. you wondered how on earth did he get here so fast, considering it takes him about thirty-five minutes to get to back home, but you’re too tired to say anything. all he does is give you a hug, plant a soft kiss on your head, and you try really hard not to cry. he does the thing where he scratches softly under your chin, like how he usually would greet a cat, while your head leans into his chest.

“hi baby,” wonwoo finally speaks, giving you a soft smile. it fades when his cold fingertips linger around your cheekbones, and stops below your dark circles. “long week?”

“mm.” you try to pretend everything is okay. he knows you aren’t. he places more gentle kisses between your eyes and on the bridge of your nose.

“was hoping you would tell me, actually.” wonwoo quietly locks the front door, takes off his shoes, and you quickly scramble to find him some house sandals that would fit him. “baby, it’s okay, I don’t need slippers. none of them fit me, remember?”

wonwoo doesn’t wear the house slippers because the five house pairs are all yours. you insist on getting him a pair, he always refuses. you cough out a laugh, and you hear wonwoo giggle.

“right, i forgot, sorry,” you mumble. “what food did you get?”

“i got you your favourite,” pho from the restaurant where you had your first date with him in. it’s his favourite, too, “i got us a matcha cake slice and a strawberry one to share, too.” cakes from the cafe on the third date.

you nod quietly, and you watch him leave the takeout on the table. he pulls out a container (which is most likely the cakes), and grabs the two plastic forks.

“wonwoo, i’m not…” hungry, you trail off, you weren’t in the mood to eat, but wonwoo looks over at you, with such tenderness. his black turtleneck hugs his torso nicely, square glasses makes him look like a nerd, when did he get a haircut? and he looks over at you, attentive and with endearment. sometimes you wonder how you deserved him. “i’m…”

wonwoo finishes putting the takeout on the table, and approaches you with quiet steps. he cocks his head to the side, a motion to tell you come here, love, and you take a few steps closer, fiddling with the sleeves of the navy oversized sweatshirt (which belongs to wonwoo).

“how can i be here for you, baby?” he pulls you closer, rubbing small circles on your scalp with his thumb. you don’t really respond, but all you do is plant your face straight to his chest, wrapping your arms around his frame. you feel a low chuckle erupt from his chest. “baby, i’m not sure how my chest is… supportive enough.”

“well, they’re bigger than mine! it’s comfy!” you whine quietly, and wonwoo laughs at your answer. he embraces you, slightly moving side to side.

“i do want an answer, if you’re able to tell me.”

“um,” you hum, looking up to him, while he still scratches your head. “i kind of just want to cuddle… tell me about your new hires, or show me dumb videos of mingyu and seungkwan being stupid again, i really don’t wanna think about what this shitty week has done to me.”

“okay, we can do that.” he hums, and scoops you up, holding you like a sack of rice.

“why are you holding me like this.”

“i wanna open the door.”

“i…” you suddenly remember the bowl of pho sitting on the table. “wait, wonwoo, the pho–”

“we have a microwave.”

“i can walk to put it away first!”

“i wanna spoil you, princess. you deserve something good. no need to think about anything.”

you feel your brain go sideways.

“… okay.” you mumble, kissing the side of his head, ignoring the heat flushing in your cheeks, and the faded pink tint in wonwoo’s ears.

wonwoo puts you on the bed, and wraps you in a blanket burrito after a little cute protest and some kisses, telling you to wait while he quickly freshens up. you feel like you’re gonna fall off the bed, why did your boyfriend put you by the edge of the bed? idiot. after showering, he changes to a comfortable black muscle tee (gifted by soonyoung) and gray sweatpants. when he returns to the bedroom, he turns on the lampshade before shutting off the main light in the bedroom. he goes back by the bed, and unrolls you out from the blanket burrito, giggling as you find yourself rolling towards the middle of the bed.

“wonwoo, what the fuck,” you find it so silly, you’re trying to contain your laughter but it’s not working. you feel wonwoo climb up on the bed, and wonwoo seems like he’s having fun removing (more like unrolling) you out of the blanket. wonwoo starts pressing a few of your pressure points gently, making you giggle even more. “what are you, FUCK, that tickles, STOP THAT!”

“noooo,” wonwoo sounds like a child, and pushes off the final part of the blanket off your body. you’re laughing loudly on the bed, as wonwoo carefully pulls you up but you feel limp from laughing. he helps you sit up in front of him, and you think he’s finished with his confusing act, but he grabs the blanket, wraps you both in it, proceeds to embrace you close, and accidentally manhandles you, him hitting the bed while you’re on top of him. “oh, this wasn’t what i planned to do.”

“what?” you ask him. “manhandle me?”

“yeah, i got too excited, i’m sorry, baby.”

“well, if it makes you feel better,” you trace shapes on his cheekbones with your finger. “i liked it. had no thought in my head, just vibes.”

“mm,” wonwoo just hums, lightly patting your butt. a hand rests behind his own head, inadvertently flexing, and you mindlessly trace the healed floral ink that wraps around his bicep. “one of the new hires likes fruits basket, it reminded me of you.”

“WHAAAAAT?” you look at him with excitement gleaming in your eyes. you slap his chest lightly. “tell me more, tell me more!”

“well, she has a tattoo of kyo’s bracelet and named her pet hamster after yuki.” wonwoo says, playing with your hair. wonwoo started watching the series for you, although he hasn’t finished yet. “although she likes kuroo?”

“oh! kureno.”

“is he a bad person?” he likes to know what’s he in for at times, so some spoilers are okay.

“he falls in love with a minor.”

“oh.”

“yeah, it’s gross,” you sigh as you feel wonwoo massage your scalp. “oh that’s nice, by the way, did your manager allow you to take the cat apron?”

“i can’t. jihoon sucks.”

“boooo! he sucks.”

“my baby can always embroider me one, right?”

“i crochet, not embroider!”

“same idea!”

“no its not!” you pinch his nose. his nose scrunches up, and he tries to playfully bite your fingers. you pinch him even harder, and you giggle over his over exaggerated expression of pain. “i should really finish making that cat hat for you.”

“take your time, baby,” he kisses the tip of your fingers. “don’t stress on it. oh, speaking of which, jihoon sent me footage of seungkwan and mingyu tripping during close yesterday. i don’t know why you find it amusing to see them struggle.”

“because they’re so funny together,” you laugh, as wonwoo uses a free hand to grab his phone on the nightstand. he opens it and scrolls, looking for the video. you turn your head, listening to his steady heartbeat. the scent of his lavender bodywash is faint. it lingers. “besides, mingyu complains about his antics with seungkwan to me at the clinic sometimes.”

“ah, not surprised.”

wonwoo opens the video, and since it is security footage, it’s muted. the quality is grainy. it’s a bit blurry. as wonwoo lightly taps a tune on the small of your back, you watch with curious eyes. seungkwan is mopping, while mingyu is seen refilling the containers with straws and wooden utensils. it doesn’t look much, but you see seungkwan tell mingyu something, but his footing is awkward, causing him to slip on the wet floor. seungkwan doesn’t fall on the ground, and mingyu is laughing at him, throwing his head back in amusement. mingyu suddenly slips backwards, falling on his side, and a bunch of straws fall on the floor. seungkwan looks like he’s gonna cry so much from laughing too hard. someone else (it looks like vernon) appears from the corner and stares at mingyu, whose still on the floor. he leaves. you and wonwoo snort loudly, you shutting your eyes hard because it’s too funny. he locks his phone and puts it back on the nightstand, stroking your head while you continue to laugh.

“god, they’re so stupid,” you shake your head. “how does jihoon deal with them?”

“he tries not to.” wonwoo halfly jokes, scrunching up his nose. you snicker. “at least they get the job done, and jihoon will be less stressed.”

“hopefully the new hires don’t fuck up.”

“i made sure they won’t.” wonwoo says, looking at you with endearment. you can’t help but move up, and kiss him. he smiles into the kiss, even taking a hold of your face as you pepper him with soft kisses. “you’re being more adorable today.”

“well, i feel like i miss you a lot more lately,” you lightly push his glasses up. “even though i see you everyday, i don’t know, it’s different this time.”

“how so?”

you still don’t want to think about the disaster the week has been. but you want your heart to be open. steady.

“sometimes, i forget i’m not alone,” you tell him. his attentive gaze never leaves your face. “and that i don’t have to… i don’t have to burden everything all at once. and i’m sorry if i feel like i’m not relying on you.”

“baby,” wonwoo cups your face and squishes your cheeks. you inadvertently let out a laugh. “don’t be sorry. please don’t ever be.”

“i know, but i…”

“you’re very important to me.” he strokes your cheekbone. “i am always here. i’m sorry if i appeared… distant lately. you don’t deserve that.”

“it’s okay, woo. i’m just overthinking.”

“it’s not…” he whispers, face softening. “you had a bad week, and me being busy isn’t an excuse to make sure my baby is okay. like i said, you’re very important to me, and the love you give me makes me so happy. i love you so much.”

“i love you so much too, wonwoo… how did i deserve you?” you feel your heart swell, and the urge to cry comes. “sometimes i wonder about that.”

“you deserve everything. and i’ll make sure i can give everything to you.”

“then…” you trail off, going quiet for a moment. wonwoo watches you, and you raise yourself up, adjusting yourself to almost straddle his lap. “can you…”

“hm?”

“can you take care of me?” you whisper, tugging the hem of his shirt. you swallow the embarrassment down, reminding yourself that it’s okay. “please?”

it seems like a desperation from you, but wonwoo knows you best. you know that he’ll always and will take care of you with utmost tenderness and gentle love. but sometimes, just barely, or just too often, you question yourself how (and why) you deserve him. you already thought the shared kiss under the stars a few years ago was something he’d forget easily. but the nerd he is, he’ll plant constellations upon constellations of kisses across your body, (as if you’re the universe herself), and ask you to guess which constellation it is. on your anniversary, he’ll always kiss the libra constellation on you because that’s the one you both saw under that fated starry night. (although, he loves kissing the pisces constellation on your body. a lot).

wonwoo gazes upon you, eyes brimming with gentleness, and he carefully sits up, motioning you to move closer to him. his hands rest on your hips, his right thumb stroking your hip. your arms reach out to him, as they wrap slowly around his neck.

“how would like me to take care of you?” he whispers so low, leaning in close, his lips brushing against yours, his right hand going up to play with your sweatshirt, sending a chill down your spine.

“however you want.”

wonwoo pulls you in for a kiss, holding the back of your neck, while his left hand slips under your shorts, lightly caressing the back of your thigh. his tongue teases the roof of your mouth, causing you to let out a small whine, as his left hand takes a hold of your ass, occasionally squishing it.

“do you want me to continue?” wonwoo breathlessly says in between wet kisses. while he fiddles with the hem of your sweatshirt, you nod in response. “words, baby.”

“yes, please.”

“what do you want?”

you and wonwoo are no stranger to sex, but compared to your friends, you and him are considerably on the more… calmer side of things. and thats okay, it’s normal! everyone is different. tonight, however, feels different. even with his constant reassurance, little kisses of i’m here for you, and delicate whispers, you want wonwoo to…

“if you could help me not overthink, that’ll be great,” you feel yourself flush red, looking down at the end of his shirt, fiddling with it. “if you, uh, know what i mean.”

“oh.” wonwoo sighs when your fingers slip under his shirt and ghost over his chest. he’s figured what you meant. “are you sure?”

“as long as you fuck me, make me feel good,” you mumble, feeling yourself grind against him, kissing him wetly. “i could care less how you do it.”

wonwoo hisses at the pressure, and stares at you, a glint of lust and admiration starting to shine through, all while playing with the band of your shorts. he brings up a hand near your face, and pulls you in for another kiss, tongue toying with yours, and when you whine, he sucks the tip of your tongue.

“remember our safe word, baby?”

“kohyangi,” you breathe out, thinking about the cute cat cafe you both went to last year, while wonwoo kisses red blooms on your neck.

“how far do you want me to…”

“how we usually are, but i wanna see you try,” you stop wonwoo from kissing your neck, and you bring him to your face, letting him kiss you more. “you can be a little rougher tonight.”

“fuck, you’re gonna be the end of me.” he gently flips you over, carefully laying you down on the bed, lips never leaving yours until he briefly parts to remove his glasses. putting them on the nightstand clumsily, he comes back for your lips, and you melt against him. through his relentless teasing and his tender touches against you make your head spin. he kisses a little harder, a little more desperate, hands starting to roam around your frame, arms caging you– an underlying message that he isn’t going anywhere, and that he belongs to you, you are his, and that you are deserving of everything. a curious hand slips under your shirt, feeling your bare chest. his other hand toys with the band of your shorts, mumbling if it’s okay to take them off, and he swiftly removes them when you give him a ‘yes’.

“oh, this is pretty,” wonwoo compliments your underwear. it’s a baby blue thong. he takes off his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room. “they new?”

“um, uh, yes? they were on sale… good deal, too…” you suddenly feel yourself shrink, turning red. you stare at his toned muscles, and you see a satisfied smirk on wonwoo’s face, eyes turning lustful. he pushes the sweatshirt high enough for your chest to be exposed to the air, never breaking eye contact until he swoops down, and starts planting kisses, tongue teasing your nipple, and occasionally biting at some places. “i bought a bunch since… kinda wanted to try wearing these… for you.”

you see wonwoo’s ears turn pink, and feel yourself crawling into a hole.

“aw, cute, my princess wants to treat me.” your brain screams. wonwoo kisses over the healed ink near your hip.“they look great on you, makes your tattoo here even sexier.”

“are.. are you doing the andromeda constellation?” you breathe out, trying to divert his (horny) attention somewhere else. “or is it something else?”

“mmhmm, correct, that’s my good girl,” wonwoo teases and you feel yourself choke on your own spit. he starts toying with the band of your underwear, and bites a mark on the hip bone. you didn’t even realize he’s already settled in between your legs until you feel him breathe. he tongues over the bite mark, soothing it. damn, ain’t this one nice way to go out. “you’re learning so well.”

“shit,” you shyly say between your teeth.

“keep the sweatshirt on, i wanna fuck you in it.”

“good, that was the intention.” you try to counter wonwoo, and you feel yourself twitch when wonwoo presses his thumb over your clothed clit. “does it make you possessive?”

“baby, you have no idea.” he responds, hooking a finger in the band of your thong.“may i?”

you nod at him, and he slowly peels off your underwear. as you slightly raise your hips so he can easily pull them off, he’s awkward with it, making you remove it instead. wonwoo clicks his tongue in slight annoyance. all you do is just smile at him, slipping them off with ease. you sit up (just a bit) to toss them somewhere on the bed or floor, and you don’t realize wonwoo is incredibly close to your pussy until you adjust your positioning. your breath hitches when he breathes.

“hm?” he starts to tease, kissing around the area and the lower stomach, but doesn’t do anything. “you’re pretty down here.”

“babe, please,” you try to sound exasperated but he plants the softest kiss on your clit and you almost collapse your arms. “just nervous, that’s all, even though we’ve done this a lot…”

“it’s okay, baby, i don’t blame you, i get nervous too,”wonwoo murmurs, and he can’t help it but he finds himself licking his lips. “may i eat you out?”

“yes, please.”

he first lightly swipes his tongue from the entrance to the clit, and he does it again, and again, and again, as you let out a soft noise the more he does it. he kisses your clit, and licks it, tongue flicking it a few times, doing a circular motion, and you sigh out a moan, hand resting on the crown of his head. he briefly pauses to use his thumbs to spread you out a little more, and opens his mouth, letting drool drip down on your pussy, watching it drip down, and he goes back in with his tongue. he increases the pressure, and you whine, almost hitting your head against the headboard. he keeps up the pace, moaning against your folds whenever you do, tongue slipping inside you occasionally. he starts to get even more sloppy, messy– making wet noises the more he eats you out.

“my princess is being so so good, so wet,” he mumbles lowly against your folds, hearing how wet he made you, briefly pulling away to kiss your inner thighs. you whine how his finger is teasing your hole, and his lips come back to suck on your clit again. “so needy, all for me.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine breathlessly, feeling wonwoo’s hand grip your thigh a little harder. he looks up, eyes never breaking away from yours, while his tongue slowly licks up from the entrance to your clit. he closes his eyes, relishing in the taste of you. you are sure your thigh is going to bruise, but his head is in between your legs, so it’ll be worth the bruising. “wonwoo, fuck, oh my god,”

“mm, fuck, so sweet,” he mumbles against your pussy. a finger slips inside you, slowly moving back and forth. the bed slightly shakes, and you see that he’s lightly grinding against the sheets, in desperation for some relief. you sigh at the sight, trying to stifle a moan as he puts more pressure with his tongue. “baby, go ahead, be louder.”

“its, fuck, embarrassing! holy shit,” you respond back a little louder, body arching when wonwoo adds another finger and grazes that sweet spot inside. you feel wonwoo pin down your hips with his other hand. “so, fuck, so, so good.”

“good,” wonwoo coos. “how bad do you wanna come?”

“so bad, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” your brain feels dizzy. “please wonwoo, please.”

wonwoo hums, continuing to suck your clit with wet noises and fingering you good. you find yourself mumbling incoherent sentences, and you find yourself feeling a wave of relief and pleasure overtake your body, trying to breathe. you clench around his fingers, hearing wonwoo coax you through your orgasm, leaving little kisses on you of you’re doing so well for me, and my baby, baby, all mine.

“can i spit in your mouth?” wonwoo removes his mouth from you, but his fingers have slowed their movement.

“yes.” you whine at the brief loss.

“open up.” he demands softly, a wet thumb pressing against your bottom lip. you oblige, and he leans in, letting drool drip down from his mouth into yours, his fingers busy with your hole, and uses his tongue to push it in your mouth. you shut your eyes, moaning while wonwoo’s tongue meets with yours.“good girl. was that okay?”

“y-yes,” you say in between wet kisses. another finger slips inside you, making it three, while you both make out, tasting yourself against his tongue. “it was good.”

“do you want me to do it again tonight?” wonwoo slightly rolls on his side, all while fingering you and peppering your neck with more kisses.

“it was really hot but,” you moan, trying to reach the band of his sweatpants. you can see how hard he is, and how much relief he desperately needs. “i don’t know if i wanna do it again. not again tonight, if that’s okay.”

“it’s always okay, baby, thank you,” wonwoo smiles against your neck, and you really wonder how you feel horny and soft all at once. he feels your fingers tease the band of his sweatpants, almost tracing the dent against it.“oh, baby, no need to worry about me.”

“but i want to make you feel good, too,” you say softly, breaths staggering while he fingers you long and slow. “don’t want—fuck— to be the only one.”

“well,” wonwoo gazes at you, eyes half-lidded with a slight fucked out look on his face. “does my girl want to make me feel good? words, baby, i need to hear them.”

“i want to make you feel good, please.”

“how badly?”

“s-so bad,” you whine when wonwoo removes his fingers from you. rolling on top of him, you press your body against his, your fingers holding the band of his sweats. “i want to suck you off.”

“wanna show me how with my fingers?” he brings up his fingers covered in your wetness close to your lips. “how will my baby suck me off?”

“only if you let me jerk you off, too.”

“i’d love that, fuuck,” wonwoo groans when you pull down his sweats and your hand wraps over his hard dick. he’s so fucking hard. your thumb teases the tip, playing with the precum and letting your hand coat itself in it. wonwoo’s fingers slowly go in your mouth, and you swirl your tongue around them. “baby, fuck, you’re such a slut.”

“y-you’re the bigger slut,” you shyly whisper against his fingers. you help wonwoo get out from his sweatpants, leaving him naked, and you start grinding your cunt against his bare thigh. he hisses, feeling how wet you are down there, and his free hand grabs a hold of your hip. “you made me like this.”

“you’re so wet, baby,” wonwoo sighs, pulling you in for a kiss, sighing when you jerk him off slowly. as you slightly pick up the pace, thumbing the slit, wonwoo’s hand reaches from behind to play with your hole. you quickly pull away to let a trail of spit go down his cock for some lubrication, and wonwoo throws his head back, groaning, when you jerk him off faster. “fuck, that’s my girl, go ahead, suck me off.”

“and you’re calling me the slut,” you mumble. you hear wonwoo laugh against your lips, until you feel his hand lightly slap your ass. you sigh at the pain, wonwoo rubbing the reddenning spot. “wow, kinky, are we?”

“you’re cute.”

“you like it.”

“you’re so– oh, fuck,” wonwoo feels his breathing stagger when you slide down, your tongue teasing the tip. you look up, trying hard to maintain eye contact, all while holding his thick cock with your hand (you forget how thick he is, you can barely wrap your hand around it completely) and giving it kittenish licks, before wrapping your lip around the tip. you make a few wet sucking noises, before spitting down on his cock for more lubrication. “fuck, baby, can you take all of me?”

“i haven’t even done anything yet,” you continue to trail your tongue along the veins and stroke him at the girth, and he moans— you feel yourself clench around nothing, wanting to hear more of it. “wanna tell me what should i do?”

“d-do as you please.” he groans out your name, cursing under his breath, and strokes your head as you continue to suck him off. not only does he love it when he ensures you’re vocal about what you want, he loves it when you ask him what he wants. being communicative is something he prioritizes so much (in general, obviously). and during times like these, communication is so so sexy.

you look at him, eyes signaling am i doing good for you?, and wonwoo bites his lip, enthralled by the sight. he really, really, can’t wait to ravish you.

“oh, holy fuck,” his thoughts get slightly interrupted when he feels his cock almost hit the back of your throat. feelings mixed with surprise and arousal that overwhelm him, he bites his lip to avoid a moan slipping out, wrapping his own hand around the base and presses it, edging himself. “oh, fuck, baby, you don’t have to take everything in.”

“b-but,” you remove your mouth from him, a slick pop sound coming out, as a trail of spit and come stick on your mouth. you still use your hands to jerk him off, looking at him with glossed eyes. “i wanna make you feel good.”

“you already are, baby,” wonwoo hitches his breath when you put your mouth back on his cock, a finger trailing your jaw. “but i’m the one who was suppose to fuck you til you can’t think, right? do you still want that, sweetheart?”

“uh-huh,” you mumble. “i-i do.”

“come here, then,” wonwoo encourages you to come up, licking your mouth. he runs a tongue on the roof of your mouth, as you moan while his hand plays with your hole again. “i taste good, don’t i?”

“mmhmm,” you reply against his lips, and wonwoo easily slips two fingers inside you again. he sucks on your bottom lip, fingering you faster, and you find yourself instinctively riding his fingers, moans getting more desperate as his other hand takes a hold of your hip and helps you ride his fingers. “fuck, fuck, fuck, i’m gonna cum again, oh my god, your fingers are so good, woo.”

“that’s it, baby,” wonwoo says, adding in a third finger. you feel his thumb press again your clit. “come for me again, sweetheart.”

you ride out your second orgasm of the night. although it’s not as intense as the first, it feels more of like a softer wave holding you close. wonwoo kisses your neck and collarbones, whispering you praises and love notes as he helps you finish.

“please fuck me already,” you whine into the kiss, and wonwoo starts playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. “wonwoo, please, i want you…”

“patience, baby,” wonwoo whisper in your ear, and you feel his hand go up and down your back. “i’ll take care of you as long as you like me to. can you go on your hands and knees for me, baby?”

“can we kiss first?”

“of course, baby.”

you’ll never get sick of kissing wonwoo, ever. you find how you melt into each other’s warmth, comfort, and love— and how he feels like home, the hugs on rainy days, the shared smiles— you adore how his kisses are reminders of i’m always here and love letters, how much he loves you- all of you—

wonwoo shifts when you move onto the position, him moving his hand down your back. he asks if its okay if he can lift up your hips a little higher, and says good girl when you follow his instruction.

“can i…?” wonwoo asks, raising your hips up, so your ass is sticking up in the air. “can i fuck you holding one of your arms behind your back?”

“holy fuck,” you whisper, looking at him, a part of your face squished by the pillow. you and wonwoo aren’t that experimental, but this… is something. “if that will help you fuck me so hard til i can’t think, then okay.”

wonwoo slows his movements, and stares at you.

oh.

oh.

oh, fuck, that’s hot.

“well, if you say so,” he leans over, tilts your head to give you a kiss, before opening the drawer to grab a condom. “you’re gonna kill me.”

“at least fuck me first.” you joke, and wonwoo chuckles at that, pushing up your sweatshirt to expose your back. he kisses down your spine, and you hear the rustle of the condom wrapper. wonwoo adjusts your body, and you almost feel like a cramp coming on, but it’s okay—

“ready, baby?” wonwoo asks lowly. you nod against the pillow. “words, sweetheart. may i have your hand?”

“mm, yeah, i’m ready, are you?” you put your hand around your back, and you feel wonwoo’s hand wrap around your wrist.

“yeah, i’m putting it in,” wonwoo says, and you feel the tip prod against your entrance, and you bite back a moan before he slowly inserts himself in. you squeeze your eyes shut, gasping against the pillow, remembering to take deep breaths. you need a moment to adjust, but the stretch alone feels wonderful. “you okay?”

“y-yes,” you exhale. “fuck, i feel all of you, so, so much.”

“fuck, you’re so tight.” wonwoo groans, slowly bottoming out. “need a moment?”

“yeah.” you let yourself adjust to his cock, as wonwoo rubs your back (his way of helping you relax). a minute passes, and you start to feel good, inadvertently moving your hips back to his. wonwoo moans, and it encourages you to move faster against him. “f-fuck, oh my god, please fuck me, you’re so big—”

wonwoo finds himself moving his hips fast, a hand gripping your hip, the other pinning your wrist behind your back, as you gasp on how loud, wet, and hard he��s going. as hard and fast-paced his thrusts are, it remains concise and controlled. you hear him groan the more he thrusts into you, and you briefly look back at him, seeing him fling his head back in pleasure. god, it feels so good, the sounds of skin slapping grow louder, breathing out of sync, you feel so full, so fucking full, your head is starting to get dizzy—

your senses come back when wonwoo slows his pace, and you whine, tightening around him as a means to get him to move.

“nuh-uh, don’t come just yet,” wonwoo tuts, shallowly thrusting in you. “i’m not done with you.”

“w-what, fuck! oh my god, please go harder,” you tell him, feeling drool come out from your mouth, and wonwoo lets go of your hand, gently placing it above your head.

“so, so, impatient,” wonwoo slaps your ass, watching you fuck yourself on him. he continues to let you fuck yourself on him, his frame swooping down so he can whisper. “so needy for my cock, hm? didn’t know my baby is such a needy, little slut. look at you fucking yourself on me. i haven’t even fucked you stupid yet, and look at you being so needy for me. my baby is such a cute little whore.”

“wonwoo, please move,” you breathe, looking at him with glossy eyes. wonwoo continues to stare at you with lust and endearment, all while shallowly fucking into you. “i want you so much, ahhhh fuck, please, please.”

“hm? what was that?” wonwoo coos, and you whine even more. you feel like crying. wonwoo rubs his hands down your side. “oh, baby, it’s okay, i’ll give you want you want. wanna tell me what you want?”

“y-you, please.”

“just me?”

“want you to fuck me til i can’t think.”

“that’s it?”

“wanna be y-your cute little whore for you.”

and that’s all it takes for wonwoo to remove himself out from you. you wince at the loss of him, as you feel tears in your eyes, but he steadily grabs you, flipping you on your back. he pumps himself, spitting on his fingers and they go down to your pussy, playing with your clit with his thumb and wraps your legs around his waist.

“keep your legs wrapped for me, okay?” he says, using his long fingers to play with you. “can you do that for me?”

“yes,” you nod, and wonwoo peppers soft kisses around your neck and face. “wonwoo?”

“mm, baby?”

“can you spit in my mouth again?”

“oh, fuck, yes,” it catches wonwoo off guard and you find it cute how flustered he got. “i can, yeah.”

“good,” you nudge his back with your leg, telling him to start moving.

“ready?”

“mmhm- ah, fuck!” you nod, but wonwoo slips inside easily, holding onto your hips hard, fucking you at a hard, controlled pace. “oh my god, fuuuck, fuck!”

wonwoo smiles, watching your expressions change accordingly. he takes in all of your noises, expressions, all of you, how you ask to go faster, how you’re trying to fuck back too, how you’re willing to make it good for both of you. wonwoo takes a hold of your hand, putting it above your head. he gets caught off guard when you put your other hand up, and wraps his hand around your wrists, pinning them against the sheets.

“fuck, baby, you’re so tight, your pretty pussy loves taking me in, hm?” wonwoo whispers, and his free hand creeps up on your neck, but doesn’t add pressure on it. “open up.”

you oblige, and you feel him twitch. you tighten in instinct, as he lets spit drip down from his mouth to yours, and sticks his tongue in your mouth to push it in again. you moan at that, eyes going shut, all while wonwoo fucks harder and harder and harder. you feel nothing running in your brain, it feels numbing, feels exhilarating, you just feel yourself get lost into the pleasure and the praise wonwoo kisses on your skin. you numbingly hear him say words and words of i love you, can’t believe you are all mine, fuck you’re too good for me, come for me, your senses get blurred out, like your feeling everything all at once, and you don’t know when but you feel yourself unravel, coming undone as wonwoo finishes too, hips stuttering.

“baby…” wonwoo sighs against your lips, hands cautiously rubbing your sides, while putting his body weight against yours. “come back to me.”

“mmrgh?” you make a weird noise, feeling warm and a little light-headed. you hear wonwoo telling you to take deep breaths, and you use your hands to hold onto his shoulders. kisses and kisses and kisses of you did so well scatter across your skin like a cluster of stars, as wonwoo strokes your head with a comforting touch. “wonwoo?”

“m’ here baby, i’m right here,” he says, carefully slipping out from inside you after he softens. “i’m here, are you here?”

“yeah, sorry,” you finally collect yourself together, staring at the ceiling. wonwoo shifts on the bed, rolling over next to you to discard the condom, and plops next to you, an arm wrapping around your waist. you look over at him, lost in his bright eyes, and fucked out glow. “you did it.”

“wha?”

“you fucked me stupid, i don’t remember thinking at all.” you laugh. wonwoo’s face turns more pink, and he grumbles into your neck, kissing a spot or two.

“was that all okay?” he asks, stroking your head with one hand, playing with your hands with the other. “we did a little experimenting tonight.”

“it was good, yes, thank you,” you tell him, stroking his cheek fondly. “kinda wanna do more of it, you know.”

“oh.”

“oh my god, don’t act like a shy boy when you fucked me with your big dick.”

“i’m…” wonwoo get even more shy, and you laugh, kissing his nose and his cheeks. “just wasn’t expecting that, that’s all.”

“is it a lot for you?”

“no, i’m glad you trust me, and that i’m able to trust you.” wonwoo says, rubbing your stomach. “we should clean up.”

“eh, i kinda wanna lay here.” you say, sort of sprawling out on the bed. you stretch your arm a little weird so it ends up across wonwoo’s body. “too tired.”

“baby, you work in healthcare. didn’t they teach you to pee after sex?”

“i work in an eye clinic!”

“well yeah! same idea! it’s still healthcare! i’m getting you to clean up.” wonwoo says, slipping out of bed and grab his sweatpants. he slips it on, and goes over to your side, but you start rolling away, not wanting to get out of bed. “baby, don’t do that.”

“i want to cuddle first,” you say, not bothering to fight back when wonwoo grabs your body to carry you to the bathroom. “i feel like jelly.”

“good, that’s what i intended,” wonwoo kisses your face when you wrap your arms around his neck. “we can cuddle after. what do you want for breakfast?”

“eggs. toast, if we have bread. do we have bread?” wonwoo shrugs . “uh, coffee? oh! and maybe fried rice.”

“you work tomorrow?” he asks. you shake your head. “good, we’ll sleep in, eat breakfast, you wanna go play stardew valley together?”

you grin, giving him a kiss.

god, you love him so fucking much.

[tojiscumdumpster]

CHAPTER THREE - TOJI

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

 “How’s school going, kid?” 

 Dinners with Megumi are always tense. Awkward. Silence most of the time until one of us says something, which is usually never. There’s a few things we don’t do together anymore, but eating at the table remains. And it looks like he still likes it when I make shogayaki based on how he cleared his plate. 

 I didn’t have the best childhood or teenage years growing up. Actually, it was traumatic as shit. The scars scattered across my body remind me everyday. So it’s hard for me to give love, be a father to a boy when I wasn’t given that myself—especially without the help of my wife. 

 But that doesn’t mean I can’t try. 

 Whether Megumi wants to admit it or not, we’re alike in many ways. I mean, he has my fucking face for fuck’s sake. He’s stubborn as shit like me. Smart mouth. Slightly tempered. Not talkative. The list can go on and on. 

 And in other ways, he’s a lot like his mom. Caring. Full of life (when he wants to be). Optimistic. Selfless. Earnest. 

 Lately, I’ve been getting the side of Megumi where he took after me. 

 I get it. I haven’t been the best father to him these past seven years. I practically had him fending for himself or dropping him with Kong when I didn’t feel like taking care of him. My wife’s death fucked me up bad and I took it out on Megumi. 

 He didn’t and doesn’t deserve that shit. He didn’t ask to be in this shitty ass world. We’re in another country. I’m his sole guardian. His only parent, and it’s about time I start acting like it.

 So if that starts by me making small talk at the dinner table, then so be it. 

 “School’s fine,” he answers, flatly. 

 I take a sip of my ginger ale.  “Made some friends?”

 He gives me an annoyed look. “It’s only been a week.”

 “Some people make friends fast.” 

 “I’m not looking to make friends.”

 Yep. Definitely my kid.

 “Okay. Well, what about your teachers?” I take our empty plates to put in the sink.

 “They’re alright. One of them is pretty nice. My reading teacher.”

 “Yeah? What’s her name?” Megumi tries to do the dishes, but I push him away. “I got it.”

 “Miss L /N. She wants to set up a parent-teacher conference.”

 “She said when?”

 “Monday at three.”

  Shit. I start work at four. 

 “I know that’s near your work time, so I can tell her you can’t-”

 “Nah, it’s fine. I can make it. If anything, I’ll call in late.” He nods and gives me a tight smile. 

 A shitty expression, but I’m taking whatever that’s given to me. I’m honestly surprised he’s even talking to me this long. 

 “I have a kid from school coming over tonight. He wants to watch a movie,” he announces.

 “I thought you said you didn’t make any friends?”

 “I didn’t.” Is all he says before he goes to his room and shuts the door.

 Progress was made, I guess. 

  I wouldn’t automatically assume Megumi hates you… He’s adjusting just like you are . 

 Words of Y/N replays in my mind. I’ve been thinking about her all fucking week. I didn’t even bother to meet up with one of my on-call flings after I met Y/N because I knew no one would compare. 

 Not after when I felt those sweet full lips and perfect ass of hers. My fist has been meeting with my cock too many times to my liking at the thought of Y/N.  

 In the shower. Before and after work. When I wake up. When I go to sleep. I kept fucking my hand imagining it was her pussy wrapped around me. 

 I know Y/N would take me well. She’s just so damn thick. Perfect height and body. A sexy, smooth and soft yet raspy voice. How she whimpered in my mouth. 

 Fuck, she’d be a good girl.

 I’m never one to be desperate to have sex with a woman, but I’m beyond desperate. I need to fuck Y/N badly. Hard. Deeply. Have all of my cock fit inside of her pussy until she’s screaming that she can’t take it.  

 Everything about her is just so damn sexy. And I’m not only talking about her looks.

 I’m usually the type to fuck and go, but something tells me I would want to lay down next to Y/N and hear her talk forever. 

  Forever?

 What the fuck is wrong with me right now? Do I hear how I sound? Like a goddamn lover boy. I just wanted to fuck her. Not spend forever with her. 

 I know her pussy would be good, but forever good?

  Yes . 

 That’s a question I know never will be fucking no. 

 It’s been days. I went back to the bar everyday this week hoping that I would see her.

 I guess I’ll try again tomorrow. 

 Enough thinking. Time for work.

 “Fushiguro, you’re working third floor tonight with Gojo. Bachelorette party.”

 Fucking great. Not only am I pairing up with the annoying motherfucker, but also having to babysit drunk women. 

 Working at a VIP luxury club isn’t the worst, only if I’m able to do my normal shit like walk the floors. However, nights like these, especially Fridays where we usually have multiple events booked, it annoys me. 

 Because who gets stuck with the shit? Me.

 The club owner better be fucking lucky he pays me generously. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be doing most of the things he asks. 

 Bachelorette parties are not my favorites because most of the time women think I’m the sexy and mysterious security guard stripper . In their fucking dreams. I don’t crave that kind of attention. Hence why I took a job as security so I don’t have to talk as much.

 “Fushiguro, aren’t you glad we’re working together tonight?” The white haired fucker, Gojo, asks me.

 “Are you trying to fuck with me?”

 He smirks. “Depends. Is it working?”

 “Dude-”

 “Satoru, if Fushiguro punches you in the face again, don’t come complaining to me.” Another one of the securities joined the banter. Geto Suguru. 

 Usually, they pair those two together, but tonight they want to leave the babysitting to me with Gojo while he’s walking the floors. 

 Not looking forward to tonight. 

 At all. 

 “Fushiguro acts like he hates me but he doesn’t. Not when little Megumi loves me,” Gojo says. 

 I snort. “Is that you think?”

 “I’m practically his big brother.”

 Some of the men here are acquainted with my kid since I brought him to work with me in the beginning. Not an ideal environment for a kid, but didn’t have enough money to afford a babysitter. And despite him being twelve at the time, I had enough sense to not leave him alone in a foreign country. 

 “Yeah, whatever. Let’s just get this night over with.” 

 I head out the changing room to go to our post on the third floor. The club is damn near already packed and it’s not even eleven o’clock yet. People are drunk and dancing, bumping into me and shit. 

 Another thing I don’t like about nightlife.

 Rather than take the elevator, I use the stairs because it seems like the ladies for the bachelorette party are using it to bring up their set up. Looks like some of them are already up here.

 The moment I step on the third floor, I attract eyes from the women. They ogle me like I’m their dinner for the night. And believe it or not, having the attention on me is not my favorite. Like I said earlier, I’ve been dealing with women almost half my life. I offered my sexual advances for money to fend for myself after I was disowned by the Zen’in Family. 

 I’m single and forty-two. I still have my sexual needs, and it’s not often I’ll deny a woman that offers herself if I’m attracted to her. But that doesn’t mean I want to be stared at all night. 

 “Ouh, are you one of the male strippers? Sexy bad boy security guard? ” one of the women asked. Brunette. Grey eyes. Average height. Not too bad on the eyes either. 

 “No. I’m actual the security guards to babysit you, and make sure you don’t fucking puke everywhere.”

 She giggles, twirling her hair around her finger. “Well, I’ll try to be on my best behavior, Mr. Security.”

 Definitely not my type. 

 I give her a tight nod and walk to the back of the section out of eyesight.

 Eventually the rest of the ladies join to begin their party. Gojo comes up the stairs late, per usual, and the attention turns to him. Unlike me, he likes when women stroke his fucking ego. All better for me while we’re up here for the night. 

 My assumption is that the bride-to-be just entered because of all the screams and her dressing in white. Am I still allowed to be fucking annoyed by unnecessary loud noise while working in a night club? Yes. 

 I solely chose this job because it requires less talking and gives me more money. 

 And I don’t play when it comes to that. 

 For the most part, time is going by fast. Thirty minutes turns to an hour, and an hour turns to two. Full house club and drunken bachelorette party. Gojo, of course, entertains them, but I stand in the same spot. 

 “Aren’t we missing someone? I hear the bride ask.

 “Yeah, Y/-”

 “I’m here! I’m here!”

 That voice sounds familiar. No, I know that voice. When I look over to the section, deep skin that glows under the colorful lights, coils pulled in an updo, stilettos with a tiny fucking dress that’s cut out around the waist. 

 Y/N. 

 And fuck, she looks damn good.

 “Y/N, you’re late,” the bride-to-be pouts. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

 She kisses her on the cheek. “I know. I’m sorry. I had like three thousand tests to grade, then I had to go pick up your gift. Then, freaking Nanami. It was just a lot,” she explains. “But I’m here! And you have me for the rest of the night.”

 “Okay, sounds hectic. So, you’re forgiven.” The bride-to-be pours a shot of tequila in a glass to hand to Y/N. “Here. You have a lot of catching up to do. As you can see��we’re drunk.”

 Y/N giggles. “Oh, gosh.” But takes the shot and downs it anyways. 

 She makes her rounds to greet the rest of the party and it’s like they all gravitate to her. Like the true life of the party has arrived. 

 I study every interaction. I watch how those pretty lips move and spread a smile across her gorgeous face. It’s only been a few days and it feels like she’s gotten prettier since I last saw her. 

 My cock hardens at the thought of having Y/N’s ass in my hands and her full lips on mine again, maybe this time while she’s naked and riding me. Or preferably in that dress. It’s so damn short and tight. Her love handles shows, and again, she’s not wearing a fucking bra. 

 It’s like she’s begging for me to suck her pretty tits. I will if she wants me to. 

 “Shit, Fushiguro,” Gojo says, coming near me to interrupt my thoughts. “Being up here isn’t bad after all. All these beautiful women, especially the one that just came in. The thick one? She’s beyond gorgeous.”

 I let out a territorial growl and shot daggers through his skull. Y/N isn’t mine, but she’s mine. 

 “Off limits.”

 He laughs. “What? That’s your girlfriend? I doubt she wants a geezer like you.”

 “I’ll fuck-” And before I could respond, it’s like Y/N felt someone staring at her because when she turned around, we made eye contact. 

 She smiled a few times since she got here, but none of the smiles compares to the one she’s giving me right now. It shows her excitement. Her attraction. Her amazement of seeing me, like she never would me again, the same way I thought about her. 

 Y/N says something to one of the other women before making her way to me. Her walk, how her legs look, especially while wearing those heels. How those full fucking hips sways—it’s sexy. She’s sexy, and I’d be damned if she doesn’t know it. 

 “Toji Fushiguro.” Her voice is calm and relaxing. “We meet again.”

 “We do.”

 She closes the space between us but still keeps a respectful distance, just enough to have her vanilla and warm berries scent invade my senses.  

 “Hi, big guy,” she breathes, sexually. 

 Y/N calling me big guy causes my dick to twitch in my pants. I really need to readjust myself right now, but it would make it real obvious how hard I am. 

 “You look beautiful,” I tell her like it’s a fact because it is. 

 “Thank you. You clean up well, too.”

 “Just work uniform.”

 She shrugs. “Then maybe I need to start coming here more often.”

 This time I don’t need to ask if she’s flirting with me like last time. I know she is. Her body language is telling me that she wants me to fuck her. 

 There’s just something so organic about our chemistry. Our barely started chemistry, which makes me feel like we’ve been at this our entire lives. I refuse to believe we’re just strangers. 

 “You’re too pretty to be talking to him,” Gojo snorts. 

 Y/N gives him an annoyed expression, arching her brow. “And you’re too much of an asshole to be talking to me.”

 The balance between Y/N being sweet and spicy makes a pervert out of me. Fuck. 

 Although I didn’t need the defending, it’s funny knowing not every woman is willing to stroke that motherfucker’s ego. 

 He doesn’t say a word. Just walks back to his side of the section while smirking at Y/N. But of course, she pays him no mind. 

 “I hope all your coworkers aren’t like that to you.”

 “I don’t really care if they are or aren’t. I’m here to make my money and leave,” I said.

 “I suppose. I still don’t like that, though.”

 “Come here, Y/N.”

 She completely closed any bit of space that kept us apart and pushed her breasts against my chest. I look down at her, dragging my eyes to her tits to see how full and swollen they are. Perfect size to put my cock between. 

 “Are you going to touch me?” she questions, invitingly. 

 “I can’t. Club rules. Unless we’re not seen on the floor.”

 She raises her brows, smiling. “So… behind closed doors, you can?”

 “I can.”

 All she does is smile and go in the direction of the stairs, but first stops at the section. 

 “Ladies, I’ll be back. The security guard is going to show me where the bathroom is. I’ve never been here before.”

 “Let us know how the dick is!” someone yells, leaving Y/N laughing while walking away. 

 I can neither confirm or deny that Y/N and I are going to fuck, but how she’s looking tonight, I’m willing to take whatever she gives me. 

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

[kiarakarlisse]

It’s been about two weeks since I’ve talked to Noelle. I’ve texted, and called her but no answer. I even went to her apartment to check in on her. I know what we did was wrong and her ending her engagement to Carter has affected her. I didn’t think it would this much, but I have to look at her perspective. She did love him even if she loved me too. So she’s grieving her relationship and needs time. I’m willing to give her that but I hate that she’s not communicating with me. This was one of our issues the first time around. She holds all her feelings in.

But as the CEO of Hayes Magazine, I can’t just be in my feelings and not go to work. So I headed in to work Monday morning. I ended up working late. It seems like it’s the only thing I can do to keep my mind off her. The later it got the more I got in my head. So I decided to have a drink, but I couldn’t drink alone. So I called my assistant in. I know it’s not a good idea but…

Nick: Hey Sarai can you come in my office for a moment?

Sarai: Yes, sir.

Nick: Hey I know it’s getting late. I want to thank you for staying. I really appreciate it.

Sarai: No Problem sir

The way she keeps addressing me as sir is doing something to me. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a bit inebriated or if I just miss Elle. But damn she looks good.

Nick: Hey why so formal? Rai it’s just us left in the office. Would you like a drink?

Sarai: Well I don’t want to cross anymore lines. We’ve been off for a while now after what happened last time.

Nick: We’re adults here. We don’t have to do anything at all. I just wanted some company while I finish up some work.

Nick: I’ll ask again. Would you like a drink?

Sarai: No I’m okay, we can just talk.

Fast forward a couple of hours and a few more drinks. We needed up at her apartment. I had just wanted to make sure she got home. But then she invited me in and I’m not in the right mind. We leaned in for a kiss we knew would just be a kiss. We’ve been here before. More than just kissing. For some reason Sarai knows how to get me out of my head. No one else has ever done that but my Elle. I guess she resembles her a bit and kind of has her beautiful laugh. God I miss her.

We stumble into her bedroom where she starts to get all shy. Like we’ve never done this before. She was the only casual ongoing relationship I’ve had since Noelle and Penny.

Nick: Rai why so shy all of a sudden? (teasing)

Sarai: We ended this because of her. I don’t want this to be like last time. It’s more than just sex for me.

Nick: Babe, we’re not talking about her right now. It’s just you and me.

Sarai: That’s not really reassuring (sighs)

Nick: Look at me. It’s you and me tonight. No one else. Okay.

Sarai: Okay

What am I talking about??? Why did I just say that? Everything is about her. It’s always about her. Am I drunk? Have a reached my limit? I just miss her so much but I also want this right now just for a moment to feel something. Anything. And she’s here. Sarai is always here.

Her body on mine feels so right yet so wrong. She’s perfect in every way, beautiful, intelligent, talented. She speaks her mind, knows what she wants and gets it. That’s why I hired her. She’s always on top of things but something is off. Maybe in another life I could love Sarai like I love my Elle. It would be so much easier.

Nick: Fuck Rai!! I can never get enough of you.

Sarai: Nick… Don’t stop!!

Nick: God I wish you were here!! (Growls)

Sarai: I am here. Right here with you. (Tears roll down her cheeks)

Knowing he means her. Noelle. His one and only. Why can’t I be enough for him? Why must I live a man that will never love me back

The next morning I had a pounding headache. How did I get home? Thats the only thing I couldn’t remember. Everything else I wish I could forget. How could I do that to Noelle? Shit how could I do that to Sarai, knowing her feelings for me haven’t changed. God!!! I’m such a fucking dick. I need to talk to Rai. Apologize to her. She doesn’t deserve this. I crossed a line once again and can’t go back. I really fucked up this time. Elle and I aren’t technically together but she won’t see it that way.

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[invisible-storyteller]

Home is a person

For @kirayukimuraappreciation. Day 1: You Came Back. Pairing: Malia Tate/Kira Yukimura Rating: General Words: 1628 Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Teen Wolf: The Movie (2023), Kira-centric, Kira Yukimura Returns, Derek Hale & Kira Yukimura Friendship, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:  Kira returns to Beacon Hills just in time to save Derek. With everyone alive and the Nogitsune gone, happy end is due, right? Well, Kira needs a bit more convincing to realize why she's come back at all. (Read it on AO3).

It doesn’t take long to understand the situation. It takes even less time to tackle Derek off the Nemeton.

She makes sure to stand guard around the tree stump with another, younger kitsune as Parrish’s arms wrap around the mutant evil spirit and they both go up in flames. The only thing left in the Nogitsune’s wake is silence and bad memories.

Then the illusion is gone and Kira can breathe again. They are all standing on a stadium field, safe, shaken and once again victorious, surrounded by friends she hasn’t seen in over a decade. It just figures that another life-and-death scenario would bring them back together.

“Dad!”

A werewolf boy barely in his teens rushes towards Derek and buries himself into his arms, and as Kira does a 360-degree turn, she notices that everyone's celebrating in varying forms of an embrace while she’s standing on the side. Alone.

A lean body sags onto hers suddenly and she startles by the unexpectedly tight hug. “You saved my dad,” The boy says against her shoulder, relief heavy in his voice. “Thank you.”

From a short distance, Derek smiles at her and walks closer to the pair. “Amazing timing,” He compliments.

Kira smiles but can’t help looking around and thinking: “Actually, I might be too late.”

Derek invites her to dinner as an expression of his gratitude and then follows up with a dozen ‘thanks yous’ throughout the evening. His son, Eli, has a million questions about the Skinwalkers and her powers and he breaks down crying halfway through. It’s a lot, but Kira still feels better on the drive home.

It’s definitely nicer than the nothing that follows.

For every single thing that hasn’t changed in Beacon Hills, there are at least three more that have. Derek, apparently, doesn’t know much about the others since most of them haven’t kept in touch after an allegedly glorious defeat against an army of hunters. Kira hasn’t been there for the war, but she supposes that the pack would have sought her out if she was truly needed.

Reuniting with Scott is awkward, seeing him hold hands with Allison is even more so. It’s not like Kira had much hope for her and Scott, but it still hurts. It doesn’t sting like a heartache but more like another proof that life went on without her.

She talks with Hikari and Liam before they leave for Japan because that’s their home now, not Beacon Hills. Kira has no idea where her home is anymore.

Half of her life has been dedicated to fighting for control with the Skinwalkers, so readjusting to the changes and modern life should be easy, and yet, Kira finds herself debating on a daily basis the idea of simply going back. What is keeping me here? - it’s a question that echoes too often in her head.

Derek is attentive, but more than that, he understands. He invites her over for more dinners and movie marathons (to help her “catch up on what she’s missed”, and he cringes right after saying it), and talks about his travels proceeding the events in Mexico. She realizes by the second-hour mark that the similarities of their experiences are overshadowed by their unbridgeable differences.

Because Derek returned when his friends were in need, but Kira didn’t.

He shows her the garage, the preserve and the school. Coach doesn’t recognize her but asks whether she’s good at lacrosse and if she would like to join, anyway. This leads to Kira practising with Eli on Mondays, since Derek claims he’s always been more gifted in basketball.

Kira knows what Derek’s doing, really, and she appreciates it. She just doesn’t know how to tell him that the issue isn’t with the place. It’s with her.

It’s 12:14 pm on a Friday when Kira walks into the auto shop. It’s been five weeks since her return and as she enters the shop (instead of waiting outside like usual), the realization hits her of how weird it is that she hasn’t talked to Malia in all that time.

“Hey,” Malia greets, like they've just spoken yesterday (they didn't, not in 14 years), kicking her feet off the counter and plucking the earbuds out of her ear.

Kira is ashamed that she can’t come up with a better reply than “Hi”, accompanied by a not-quite smile to make up for the lack of contact. Not that Malia couldn’t have reached out, Kira reminds herself, and feels a dull pang in her heart. It’s an everyday occurrence.

“What are you doing here?” Malia asks as she stands up, soft sweater bunching up at one of her sides. Derek’s been either rubbing off on her or pestering the woman into warmer clothes as the season turned chilly. It’s an adorable sight, nevertheless.

Kira looks behind herself, wondering for a moment if she should wait outside after all. Then she remembers Malia has always been confrontational and feels her nerves settle at the small glimpse of familiarity.

“Derek promised to buy me lunch,” Kira finally says, glancing around for good measure. Derek’s most likely in the back, though, immersed in grease and work.

Malia nods, looks away, pats down her jeans.

“What if I buy you lunch?”

The question catches Kira off guard and her wide eyes are probably telling since Malia immediately shoves her hands into her jeans and plunges into an explanation.

“Derek’s busy with a demanding asshole’s car and sitting here is getting seriously boring. So please? Put me out of my misery?”

Oh. Well. Kira can roll with that.

“Yeah, sure, if Derek doesn’t mind.”

“Wait here,” Malia instructs before disappearing through the backdoor. Three minutes later, Malia is back with car keys dangling from her fingers and a familiar-looking credit card in her hand. “He doesn’t mind. Now, let’s go. I’m fucking starving.”

The lunch is better than Kira expects. Malia's questions are straightforward but her answers to Kira’s inquires are equally frank. It’s refreshing to finally pour out all the feelings Kira's had bottled up for over a month now. It's also the first time she laughs honestly.

“We should meet up again,” Malia suggests while they're pulling up to Kira's home. Or, well, to her parents’ house.

“Yeah,” Kira agrees readily.

Then, she promptly forgets about wanting to leave for a full week.

“Don’t you want to have your own apartment?” Malia asks with her bare feet trudging in the shallow part of the lake.

Kira pulls her knees up to hug them closer as well as to support her chin as she shrugs noncommittally. “I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“Seriously?" Malia looks flummoxed. "Didn’t you make a comment about the absurdity of sleeping in your old bedroom? Right below your One Direction poster?"

Yeah, Kira spent an entire day mourning over that particular change.

“I know, I just never thought I would need a permanent place here.”

Malia freezes in the water at once and aimes her eyes at her submerged feet. Kira can't parse the emotion on her friend's face, and it makes the anxiety that she hasn't felt around Malia yet emerge with frightening intensity.

“You want to leave.”

There's no accusation behind the words but they aren't exactly warm in nature. Kira doesn't want to lie, not to Malia, so she settles on a shrug.

“But you just got back." And now the hurt is audible in Malia's voice.

“Why should I stay here?" Kira asks, pleading for her friend to understand. "Our friends aren’t here anymore, the pack isn’t here anymore, my life isn’t here-“

Kira bites her tongue. When she got back two months ago, she was filled with exhilaration to reunite with her family. Her mother made occasional visits to the Skinwalkers, but it was nothing compared to the almost forgotten scent of his father's cooking or the sound of her mother's singing as it floated through the house. There was no happier moment in Kira's life than when her mother had called about the Nogitsune's return and the Skinwalkers bid her farewell for good. Her training was over.

But Kira didn't live in Beacon Hills for long and she didn't have childhood memories to anchor her to the town. The only thing that was ever valuable in Beacon Hills were her friends and even they had left a long time ago. Kira has no reason to stay.

“I’m here,” Malia's words break through her thoughts, and Kira meets her eyes curiously.

“Why? What holds you back?”

Malia doesn't answer. She simply walks out of the lake and sits beside her in the grass. It's an unusually sunny day.

“Parrish?” Kira chances, and her heart soars when Malia shakes her head lightly.

“I guess... I was waiting for everyone to come back.”

Kira hasn't considered it yet - what it must have felt like to be left behind by all their friends. The worst is, though, that she doesn't remember if she ever said goodbye to Malia.

They listen to the forest while soaking in the pale light of the Sun, and at one point, Malia decides to lie down on her back and just watch the vagrant clouds as they swim past the treetops. Kira hasn't known this kind of peace in... 14 years.

“I guess..." Malia suddenly speaks, quieter but somehow braver, "I was waiting for you to come back.”

Kira looks at the other woman, at the challenge and hope in her eyes. At the evident fear that she bares open for only Kira to see.

She leans onto her side until she hovers above Malia, and slowly, tentatively, takes hold of her hand.

“Will you help me look for an apartment?”

Malia beams, and just like that, Kira no longer regrets coming back.

[kskbli]

(￣ ;￣)

5.05.2024 (1)

i started school last monday and had my masters exam in german last thursday

i was hoping for my stress to go away the moment i gave my teacher my german exam but i couldn’t stop shaking

i haven’t been feeling well since thursday . . . i don’t know what this feeling inside of me is T_T it reminds me of summer 2021 and i can’t even put it into words

maybe i can though, and i just don’t want to

i really need a therapist, but i’m only free on weekends since im at school from 7 till 5pm .. . as far as i know no therapists are open on weekends, the ones i looked up aren’t

so it looks like i’ll start therapy after im done with school, in 2 months . . . but that’s too late for me TT my medication alone isn’t helping me at all

my mom and my siblings and dad visited me last week and helped me clean my whole apartment so i could focus on school but it doesn’t feel clean anymore

maybe it’s because the dishes are dirty again and just sitting in the kitchensink, or because my laundry is in the living room (where it doesn’t belong), or because i haven’t vacuumed in days, or because the blanket ive hung up to dry outside is still outside after 4 days, or because my bed isn’t made or simply because i myself am not clean . . .

i haven’t showered in 3 days and i reek of sweat (￣ﾊ￣*) i miss putting on loads of perfume and people telling me i smell like flowers fufufu… i don’t have the money for perfume these days . . .

i always wanted to do so much but didn’t have the motivation for it, now i don’t want to do anything at all

i woke up a couple of hours ago and the only thing i managed to do was go to the toilet, take my medication and give my cat her food

i honestly don’t know what to do anymore

12:47

[eureka-its-zico]

”I’ll do you the honour of killing you with Yuri” Mihawk holds up a picture of women in love, embracing, laughing, enjoying their time together. Zoro, a man who rejects romance and all affection with every fibre of his body, faints. Doc gives him an ice pack for the bruise he’ll wake up to as he just went splat on the floor. Mihawk, bidding his new best friend Usopp goodbye before he leaves. The end. No bad injuries. (Yuri, from my quick google, is about romance between women, I think) (idk I thought this was funny)

Okay on to my serious attempt at reviewing your work, Jenna. Loved it!!!!!! My goodness I was just all warm and fuzzy despite the angst of Zoro trying to fulfil his dream and his vow. I read you haven’t really been feeling your writing lately and whilst of course your feelings are valid, and no one can be full of confidence in their creations at all times, I must dispute. You are just soooo good at writing the interactions between people who care about each other, especially in non verbal methods. Like in last chapter how Sanji displays his care for Zeff despite his words, and in this, how everyone was clasping elbows etc in worry for Zoro.

“I’m always going to be in every one of your corners because you guys are in mine”

wow, i love that line, it is so accurate to live action Luffy (haven’t read enough of the manga to verify how in line it is with that version). What an amazing person, he’s just always so kind. I’m sometimes close to tearing up at how he just always treats his friends earnestly, just as he’s incredibly silly, his lack of filter applies to being unabashedly kind. You did great with his character.

and I’m happy to see Sanji and the drink owed! And Ussop kept on mentioning Zoro, which was definitely what a teasing friend would do, it depicted childhood friends well. About their childhood, more specifically Doc’s, I was definitely surprised and happy to see some development there too.

Anyways, or I’ll go on forever,

have an absolutely fantastic week!

(also, what does Osiyo mean for you? I could google it, but it always impersonal getting a machine translation, like I’m just getting a word translation and not what situations people would use it in, etc)

Osiyo, Chilly!!

I have been unhinged laughing in the corner of my room for the last three minutes after reading your first part. I was like, Yuri? Forgot my ass WROTE YORU AS YURI and immediately lost all brain function and have gone into an endless sea of cackles. I have wondered how the hell I missed it while going and fixing it. I am officially deceased. Good fucking bye lol.

Osiyo (ᎣᏏᏲ) is Cherokee for Hello. I am Native American and that is my tribes language.

Thank you for being so sweet. I try really hard to make the interactions between them feel real and well-thought-out. I'm happy it is something that you can see while reading it, and I appreciate you saying such nice things. I am trying to be kinder to myself the way that you, and others have shown me kindness.

Luffy in the OPLA seems to be incredibly kind. I've just started reading the manga but have been watching the anime for a while. I NEED DOC TO MEET BROOKS OK. Even in there, he is a softie, but I feel like OPLA Luffy is even softer than that??

Thank you for stopping by and leaving me this sweet review. It is always a pleasure to hear from you! I hope your Monday is a good one and your week even better. Much love.

[amstories]

Newsletter #15: January 2024

Dear RNAs,

Is it too late for me to wish you a happy new year? 2023 has been a wild ride for (you and) me because a lot of things happened. Here’s a quick recap before we totally move on to the next year!

2023 RECAP

I don’t even know where to begin. All I know is that 2023 was a fruitful year for me as a creative. I was able to share with you six new stories of love, friendships, and life.

Last year, it was finally time for me to share some secrets with you through the story of Erica and Trey in Secrets We Can’t Keep. After finding out their big secret, we continued to solve some problems that Lara and Alvin we’re having in Problems We Can’t Solve. Later on, we joined Margaux and Cash in finding out whether they were able to reach their dreams in Dreams We Can’t Reach.

This was also the year wherein we slowed down and enjoyed the mundane things in life like commuting. We enjoyed the ride as we commuted to Project Fate with Tanya and Tep. We also learned the basics of commuting in Commuting for Dummies with Isaac and Clara. Lastly, we enjoyed every Crush Hour despite the heavy traffic with George and Bridgit.

Aside from these, I attempted to write a ficlet per week this 2023 but I wasn’t able to finish this challenge. However, it produced 24 ficlets. I’ve written additional two ficlets for Inkspired Inktober, which is another writing challenge that I haven’t finished.

My goal last year was to be consistent in my story updates, which I was able to accomplish since I have updated every Monday last 2023. It became a routine for me to post something new in Wattpad.

I was given the opportunity to be a part of Miss Yennie’s (halfbakedwriter) Writer Tell-All Space as a guest writer. It was a joy for me to share my thoughts and journey as a writer with my fellow creatives. At the same time, it’s a privilege for me to receive some wisdom they have acquired through the years of writing experience they had.

But 2023 does not stop there. This was also the year where new opportunities opened for me. I never imagined myself to be able to publish a book last year but KPub PH allowed that dream I once had when I was a child to come true in the form of Ardor, a collection of short stories about love. Unbelievable! I cannot believe I had my first book signing event last year. What a miracle it has been!

This 2023, our family has grown to 669 followers in Wattpad. And finally, here’s a quick recap to show the growth of my stories. Thank you to everyone who has read (and read again) and supported my stories in many ways. I don’t think I say this enough but know that I read every comment and message you send.

2024 WRITING GOALS

As I have promised since the beginning, I will continue to share stories to the world as long as I have stories to tell. This 2024, my desire is to continue to write stories that would bring life to those who would consume it. Content all over the Internet may not always be good, but as a creative, I want to put out content that would inspire you, make you think critically, educate you about things you may not know yet, or simply just make you feel things.

As a creative, I admit that I also have comfort zones. There may be themes that I simply am afraid to explore because I doubt my audience would enjoy such things. This year, I’m looking forward to stepping out of my comfort zones by exploring new themes to write, expanding my creative platforms outside of Wattpad, and making myself a little bit more vulnerable to my readers to show that I am a human as well.

Last year was all about consistency because I wanted to prove to myself (and maybe to my readers) that I could post regularly. I may have been successful in one way but I also had to learn the rhythm of creating and resting. If I hustled every single time, I’m afraid I would end up in a creative burnout and it’s the last thing that I want to happen to me. That’s why I’m hoping to find the right rhythm for me between creating and resting. I hope that you do the same. Rest is a precious gift. Please find time for it.

Lastly, I know that I wouldn’t be where I am right now without the readers who kept on supporting every little thing that I put out there online. I believe that there’s a human behind every user that I interact with. You, guys, have a story to tell too! And if you’ll let me, I want to know your stories as well. Aside from the group chat and channels I have in Telegram, I really want to have conversations with you.

WRITING PROJECTS

Before I end this newsletter, let me update you about my writing projects this year. Currently, I’m writing five works-in-progress: 1) License to Lab, 2) Ana & Tomi Part One, 3) Pitik Mata, 4) Bad for the Heart, and 5) NLEX: Ang Huling Biyahe.

License to Lab is the fifth installment of MedTech on Duty. It features a medical laboratory technician who has failed his board exams thrice and tries to take it once again. I’ve been writing this since 2022 and I’m working to finish this already because I want to share this story already. But yes, I’m taking my sweet, sweet time to write this one because I don’t really want to compromise the message that I want to tell for the sake of publishing it immediately. Instead, here’s a little quote that I’m offering for now:

“Is it even possible for hope to be transmitted by just staring into the eyes of the person who believes in you the most?”

Ana & Tomi Part One is the first installment of MedTech on Duty. It narrates the college misadventures of the titular characters—Ana and Tomi. I’m exploring themes of platonic soulmates and found family here, so this should be exciting! This story also allows me to reminisce about my undergraduate years in Medical Technology.

“But what if during the bad times, I don’t even have a single person I can run to? Can’t I really survive college alone?”

For my love of novelette trilogies, I started writing Pitik Mata, which is a three-part series that features a trio of friends who go on a venture of rediscovering their passion in photography. I will be pouring a lot of the things I love in this WIP, such as photography, creatives, and trio friendships.

“Ano kaya ang nakikita niya sa lente ng camera niya? Nakikita niya kaya kung paano ko siya tingnan?”

For those who loved You Make Me Sick, I’m sure this WIP will excite you. Bad for the Heart is written in the same universe as YMMS, focusing on the things that may be dangerous for the heart. We’re going to talk about the heart a lot here.

“It’s fascinating how the heart may be the strongest yet the most fragile organ of the body. From the moment you are formed in your mother’s womb up to your final breath, your heart beats so you would live. It never takes a break. For if it does, you will die.”

Lastly, we’re going on a road trip to NLEX: Ang Huling Biyahe with my new beloved quad! This focuses on four friends who love a good road trip away from the busy city but need to part ways at the end.

“And that was her little assurance. That despite every change and transition that is happening in their lives, they will always have NLEX. They will always come back to the place where it all began.”

That’s a total of five WIPs, but please understand that I won’t be able to publish immediately since I’m currently studying for my board exams. Writing stories will forever be precious in my heart but it is also a part of my dream to work in the laboratory. I may not be as active as before, but I will try to come back every now and then to check up on everyone. Until then, I’m going to write offline for a while. If you want to be updated about my progress, you may join my Telegram channel and check my WIP threads.

Here’s a question for you: Among my WIPs, which of these are you looking forward to reading?

Hanggang sa susunod na kwento.

nagkukwento, AM

[egcarlos]

The past several times I had to travel, I was with a baby, so I didn’t really have time to think about things. But, after a 14-hour flight from Seattle to Doha, a 7 hour layover before my 6-hour flight to Kigali and another 6 hour drive to my final destination, Bukavu, one can’t help but reflect on life in general.

I arrived to Bukavu late Friday afternoon dead-tired. From what I was told in the email a week before, I was supposed to have a night to spend in Kigali to get some much-needed rest, but once I arrived to the guesthouse, the driver asked if I wanted to leave that very moment. I said yes without hesitation although I wish I hadn’t. I almost threw up on the ride. The route was beautiful; the weather was mild, everything was so green, and it was such a warm and welcoming sight back to the continent of Africa, but the route was also twisty and turny. My already empty stomach wouldn’t stop churning throughout the 6-hour drive. I was surprised I fell asleep at some parts of the ride which helped make things go by faster. When we finally got to the border crossing between Rwanda and the DRC, I thought I had to put my French skills to the test to get the necessary stamps and visas to cross, but luckily I traveled with another ex-patriate from Mali, Ali, who spoke perfect French, so he got us through quite easily. As we arrived to the office, we quickly got some of introductory formalities taken cared of and off we both went to the house. I’ve been so looking forward to working with MSF again. Ever since I left my first project in South Sudan in 2019, I knew I would be making plans to work my way back to another post. I luckily arrived on a Friday, so I have absolutely nothing to do over the weekend. There are about 8 other people in the house, I only got to speak to 2 other ex-pats. Ali was assigned to the other house unfortunately and this is not his first project here in the DRC so he knows a lot of the locals in the area, so I haven’t seen him since Friday. One of the ex-pats invited me to go out with the other workers to catch a drink, but I was dead-exhausted and I almost vomited just thinking about alcohol. The first thing I did Saturday morning, I went out for a walk. It rained the night before, so I was sloshing my way around in the mud. I walked about 5 miles in total. I bought myself a local ‘croissant’ which was more of a heavier, thicker version of pain au chocolat. My pants and shoes were a mess when I got back, but it didn’t matter to me; I used the same pants and shoes for my Sunday walk too. My Sunday walk was a lot better than yesterday’s because it hadn’t rained overnight. As I was welcomed back into the compound, the lady who opened the door already knew my name. I felt bad because I didn’t ask her for her name, but I will when I see her next time and ask her.

And now, I am here. Sitting down in front of a gorgeous lake front view of Lake Kivu. It’s a shame though because there is absolutely no access to the water literally 30 feet away from me. There’s a locked latch that I guess we are not supposed to try to open; there may have been some accidents in the past with ex-pats falling into the water? Ha, I don’t know. But here I am, thinking about life; missing my family, missing my parents, missing Yamini, and missing Rio. I was comforted this morning because after a video call with Yamini, Rio was doing his thing; active and mumbling as usual. He is well-loved at home, and I know deep in my heart that I should feel at ease. Once the work starts, I know that I will be immersed in it. I may not have this time to just sit and think for a while. I am still not totally clear on what exactly I am doing in these projects. I have yet to meet the person that I am replacing; all I know is that she is a female and that is that. She is away in one of the projects over the weekend, so I hope to meet her tomorrow, Monday. From what I read, MSF- Spain is in charge of 3 other projects here in the DRC; Kalehe, Samamabila and Kalole. As their ‘Flying’ specialist, I will be called to these projects on an as needed basis when there are patients to see and to evaluate the needs of these projects. Based on my reading, it sounds like getting to some of these patients can be a challenge and some are very remote. I was reading that I may have to not only go on foot, but also ride on the back of a motorcycle to reach some of these health centers. Safety and security will be on the back of my mind and will be one of the first questions I will have for the person that I am replacing. But anyways, that’s all I know. I can just focus on being here, in front of this beautiful lake for now. I can enjoy this time to think about life. All my other roommates are still asleep; it is about 8 AM this Sunday morning.

I read this beautiful line last night in Victor Frankl’s book, Man’s Search for Meaning, The Truth- that love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which man can aspire… The salvation of man is through love and in love. I understood how a man who has nothing left in this world still may know bliss, be it only for a brief moment, in the contemplation of his beloved. When I think about my family, when I think about Yamini and when I think about Rio, I am complete. I have all that I want in this world. God, the universe, fate, love has given me all that I have ever wanted and more. This is why I am here. This is why I am thousands of miles away from home, hoping to give whatever little I can offer to make this world just a little bit better- because I am complete and this universe has given me so much. I know that the next 6 months will fly by and at the end will seem just a drop in time. I have no idea what to expect and where I am going, but all I know is that this is where I am meant to be.

[kinetic-elaboration]

July 17: Monday's Feelings

Feeling a little overwhelmed today with just…thoughts and plans and things I want and need to do. I feel disorganized with a strong desire to be organized. But I did go grocery shopping after work, which was a big and important task that I got out of the way at the beginning of the week. Should feel proud about that. I am really hoping that tomorrow I can spend some time writing my Troped fic because I’m getting a bit worried that I’ll forget the intro if I don’t get it down soon. I don’t want to do it today because I want to get into a real proper writing mode, and to do that today would require waking myself up, and also staying up late. Also my stomach feels a little iffy and I am very tired. I just want to actually get to writing the fic so I can prove it’s a viable idea and not just an outline and a few vague images and wouldn’t-it-be-cool-if ideas in my head. I haven’t done much work on imagining the style yet… and to be honest, what I have done worries me a little, because it reminds me some of the Troped Halloween fic I abandoned last year. But I know it’s objectively way too early (zero words written) to say or to make literally any judgments at all.

I’ve been thinking today about how I just want to IMMERSE myself in something. But of course immersion is very difficult. It takes a lot of energy, at least if you want to immerse yourself in something worthwhile. I hide myself so often in multi-tasking, though I am slowly trying to get better at devoting my attention to one thing at a time. But I just feel like, damn, I sort of miss the intensity of real and unavoidable focus. I want to crack my knuckles, sit down, and write for a whole day, no excuses. Or really get into a cleaning or re-decorating project. I want to feel like something is wholly and totally complete. I don’t know. One of those feelings that it doesn’t really help to capture because well, so what, I guess.

I have high hopes for this weekend so I just gotta make it to the end of the week—do stuff, but also go to sleep at good hours and push myself the appropriate amount. It’s all very plausible. I can do this.

[sanders623-blog]

Happy days

ive been extremely happy lately. I think its mostly the zyprexa increase but also the weather. its been 70′s and sunny. I haven't felt this way in a while. I had some mania in March. I wanted a puppy. and I got a pitbull at the shelter but because of all the shit about pitbulls I decided I didn't want her. Then I spent $3,000. on a pom/shitzu mix puppy. Jonathan was goin to divorce me. He was dead serious. I ended up giving my aunt the puppy and swore never again I would bring an animal home. which is hard for me because I love animals so much and I always obsess when I'm in mania. but Jonathan means more to me, I Neve want a divorce. my live would end. esp now that we have kids. miss Della is officially 1 year old!! she's standing on her own too but not walking quite yet. Joseph is  causing trouble at school. Hitting, spitting, pushing, flooding the bathroom, pouring juice on some kids head etc. he's so independent lately, and so incredibly smart. but we are trying so hard to correct his behavior. I refuse to accept that he's a bully. Jonathan is already sayin that. I love my little boy. I did everything I could to raise him right. I keep thinking ascher was so much worse at this age. Mom even says that. they had a ton of conferences and calls from teachers. my mom says it'll get better he jus needs to grow out of it. hope so. 

I have dr. Neil today. But nothing really to report other than feeling so great. Its boring when I'm doing well. but maybe I can go down on Depakote because I am just soooo overweight at this point. I weigh 258lb right now. ive never been this big and omg I HATE it. I have no idea why Jonathan still wants to have sex with me. I still get him going. not me though. since having two kids  come out, my V has said fuck off leave me be! 

I also see my therapist next Monday. I like him. He's not a Mary Raymer but he listens and asks a lot of questions. I see him every two weeks but sometimes we run out of things to say. So that's why I decided to blog again . 

[cigarettesaftersexualabstinence]

Sleeping analysis

I’ve had troubles sleeping lately. 

I don’t know why. I’ve always been a great sleeper. As soon as I’d got into bed I would simply lie down and fall asleep and that since I was a young boy. I remember my mother being on the side of the bed and telling me stories she used to make up just for me. One day I was a singer—a very famous one—the other I was a footballer—a very good one. I remember my favorite story being about me becoming an actor and shooting movies with my idols of the time. My mom was good at making up stories. She knew me well and she also knew what I wanted to hear. My childhood was a troubled time. I was a weird kid with no friends and lots of hobbies I was bad at. I tried sports and music but couldn’t quite hang on to it but that didn’t matter cause I knew I’d be doing those things in my mother’s stories. I’d be doing those things so well that people would be interested by me—looking up to me. I would lie if I said that I wasn’t looking up to the guy in those stories. I mean, he had it all. He was famous, rich, handsome and he was good at something. 

It feels nostalgic to say that but I miss those times. I wish I could sleep like I used to when I was a child.

Growing up, I started making up stories in my mind as my mom stopped sitting on the side of my bed waiting for me to go to sleep. I started making up stories about me going out with the prettiest girl in high school. I even thought that if I believed it strongly it would become a reality. It never did. Despite this I kept on telling myself stories to go to sleep. On Mondays I was the richest man on earth and on Tuesdays I was the funniest man on earth. It worked so well that I would wake up with the memory of dreaming about the story I made up. The stories I used to make up to put me to sleep were pretty different from my mom’s. I wasn’t a famous person anymore I was just a dude who does silly jokes and make all the pretty girls laugh—the exact opposite of the shy kid I was. The guy in my story was confident and charming and I kept on looking up to him and wish I was him so bad. It wasn’t hard getting to sleep during those times but it was hard waking up. 

I kept on growing up and fantasizing on the guy I wish I was until I went to college. 

When I was younger I used to make up stories to put me to sleep; growing up, I started thinking about it all day long. Daytime was becoming a long hypnagogic state for me. I didn’t know who I was and more than that I didn’t know who I wanted to be. Rather than imagining what my life could look like through different prisms I was wondering about what my life was really about. In college I was confronted with gifted people whom I feared. I feared them more than they will ever know. I was not the unique and special kid my mom portrayed. I had friends. I wasn’t the shy kid I used to be. I wasn’t special anymore. To this day I still don’t know what made me think I was special. The fact that I had no friends and thought that it was because they couldn’t understand me or the fact that I wanted to become an adult so much because my mom’s stories made me think it was cool to be one.

I recently tried to go back to making up stories to get me to sleep. It didn’t work. I tried going back to old classics such as the footy one or the late funniest guy in the room one. Both failed miserably. All it did I think was keeping me awake more than anything. The questions came back with the fears, the anxiety, the feeling that I’ll never be enough for anybody. That moment between getting to bed and falling asleep feels like sleep paralysis now. The damn questions they keep my eyes wide open. They soar above the bed waiting for me to get in the sheets and when I do they hang on to me and they never leave. Never. The darkness of the room reminds me that another day passed and I still haven’t achieved any of the things my mom predicted for me when I was a child. I may not be a disappointment but will I ever be enough? Will she ever be proud? She may but will I feel the same way? The questions, they keep me up at night. 

I wish my mom could tell me stories again and I wish I could still believe in them—no questions asked.

Illustrated by drn_jessica_

[waitimcomingtoo]

Trial Run

Part one and three 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers!

Synopsis: last week you hated each other, this week you’re making out in his bed.

Masterlist

Since you and Peter weren’t exactly friends before, you didn’t have each other’s numbers. You had no way of communicating with him once you went home. Meaning, you had no idea what you’d be walking in to on Monday. All you knew was you made out with your former rival. You didn’t know what it meant to him; you barely knew what it meant to you. So when you saw him at the lockers upon entering school, you had to brace yourself.

You walked up to your locker and kept your head straight as you unlocked it. You could feel Peter’s eyes on you, just as you could feel him fumbling for words to say.

“Hey.” You said casually without looking over at him. You were doing your best to play it cool, when you were internally freaking out around him.

“Hey.” Peter said immediately, overly excited that you were the first to speak. “How are you? Um, how was your weekend?”

“Good.” You said simply. “How was yours?”

“Good.” Peter nodded. He stared at you for a minute as he worked up the courage to say something better.

“I thought about you a lot.” He said quietly, adverting his eyes so he wouldn’t lose his nerve. You sucked in a sharp breath, hating how easily he could fluster you.

“Did you now?” You asked without looking at him.

“Yeah.” He smiled shyly. “I really liked it when you kissed me.”

You couldn’t help smiling at his words, despite you trying to fight it. You looked at him, saw his signature shit eating grin, and rolled your eyes.

“I liked it too.” You said quietly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Okay, good.” He nodded happily. “We’re on the same page.”

“I guess we are.” You looked at him as you shut your locker.

“In that case, do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asked hopefully as he twisted his shirt around his fingers. For once, you found his nervous behavior to be cute. You wanted to say yes, but you had to make sure he was all in first.

“Not yet.” You decided. “I said I’d be willing to give this a try. I can’t commit to anything until I know what kind of boyfriend you’d make.”

“How can I prove to you that I’d be a good boyfriend?” Peter wondered. You pursed your lips as you thought about it, not having thought that far ahead. You looked down at the books in your arms and held them out to him.

“Carry my books.” You instructed.

“Okay.” Peter took your books from you and walked with you when you moved.

“I like old fashioned romantic gestures.” You explained as you walked together. “Carrying books, opening the door, asking the father for permission to date, things like that. I want a gentleman. I wouldn’t date anything less.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded as he made a metal note. “I can be a gentleman.”

“Walk faster.” You commanded, and he picked up his pace. “I don’t just want you to be a gentleman though. You have to be rough with me sometimes. Tell me when I’m being ridiculous and shut me up with a kiss every now and then.”

“Nice. I finally know a way to shut you up.” Peter joked.

“Cute.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m telling you all of this now because I think communication is the most important thing in a relationship. This is what I want in a relationship. If you can’t give it to me, then we’ll just be friends. No harm done.”

“Okay. Gentleman, kisses, books. I can do this.” Peter hyped himself up.

“Good.” You smiled and stopped walking. “So what are your conditions for a relationship?”

“I don’t know if I have any.” Peter realized. “I’ve never been in a a relationship before.”

“Well what do you want from me?” You asked him. Peter thought about it for a minute before making a decision.

“Can I hold your hand?” He asked, and you fought back a smile at his innocence. You looked down at his free hand and frowned suddenly as something dawned on you.

“Are you still gonna like me if I start being nice to you?” You asked without looking at him.

“What?” He asked. “Of course I will.”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head. “What if you had some underlying degradation kink that I was fueling? And if I stop being mean to you, you’ll stop liking me.”

“I liked you before you were mean to me.” Peter assured. “And I don’t have that kink. At least, I don’t think I do.”

You looked at him for a minute, unsure of what you wanted.

“I don’t want to start this if you’re gonna break my heart.” You said quietly.

“Hey.” He said comfortingly. “I won’t do that. I’ve never broken a girls heart before.”

“Didn’t you say you’ve never been in a relationship before?”

“Yes.” He realized. “But even if I had, I wouldn’t have broken anyones heart. Not on purpose, at least. You have just as much of a chance of breaking mine.”

“I’ll try not to.” You smiled a little.

“I would appreciate that.” He told you. Your smile widened as you fell just a little bit more for Peter. You let out a dramatic sigh and looked up at the ceiling.

“You can hold my hand.” You said like it was inconvenient for you.

“I appreciate that even more.” Peter grinned as he took your hand. You continued walking to class, hand in hand.

You reached your classroom and stood outside of it, hesitant to go inside. You’d only ever sat in that class as Peter’s rival, and now you guys were almost dating. You looked at him holding your books and squeezed his hand gently.

“Just so you know, I want this to work.” You told him honestly. Peter’s cheeks turned pink as he gave you a small nod.

“I do too.”

“Good.” You smiled. “Now get inside. I don’t like being late.”

You and Peter walked into the classroom hand and hand with his books still in his arms. Before you could take a seat, your teacher stopped you.

“Wow.” She folded her arms and smirked. “It looks like my plan worked.”

“I’m sorry?” You asked.

“Making you guys partners seems to have paid off.” She pointed to your books in Peter’s arms.

“Peter was just taking a break from his usually monkey brained self to do something polite.” You stammered.

“And Y/n couldn’t carry her books because she’s too busy carrying the weight of being the most obnoxious person in this part of New York.” Peter followed up.

“Mhm.” She nodded. “And the hand holding?”

“It was his idea.” You said at the same time as Peter said, “She let me.”

“Right.” She clicked her tongue. “Take a seat you two.”

You and Peter took your usual seats and kept quiet the entire class. The rest of the class was quick to notice the absence of the typical taunting banter that usually occurred between you and Peter. In its place, much to everyone’s surprise, was your dangling hands holding each other’s under the desks. His left hand was reaching forward while yours was reaching back, meeting in the middle and staying that way throughout the period. You didn’t know why you let him hold you hand the entire time. He didn’t know either. All you knew was you liked the feeling of his hand in yours.

At lunch time, you found yourself walking towards Peter’s table instead of sitting with your other friends. You had no idea why you wanted to sit with him, but you felt yourself missing him throughout your classes. You silently put your lunch down next to him and began to eat. Peter and Ned exchanged a look and Peter nearly choked on his food.

“You’re sitting here?” Peter asked with a mouth full of food.

“Is there a problem?” You asked as you looked between him and Ned.

“No.” Peter shook his head. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m happy to see you.”

“Shut up, loser.” You snickered as you leaned into him. He leaned back before wrapping an arms around your shoulders. Ned stared at the two of you in shock, usually accustomed to you going at each other’s throats. When Peter told him you’d kissed, he thought he was kidding.

“So are you guys like a couple now?” Ned asked, interrupting the moment. Peter didn’t know how to answer, so he looked to you.

“We’re giving it a test run.” You shrugged. “For now, we’re just casually dating.”

“When will you know if you want to be a couple?” Ned continued.

“I kinda had the same question.” Peter said sheepishly. You thought about it for minute, not exactly sure of your answer.

“Tell you what.” You decided. “If I ever look at you and feel an overwhelming need to kiss you, thats when I’ll know.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded. “I can work with that.”

“So how’s your project going Ned?” You asked as you changed the subject.

“Well, Gwen and I haven’t started dating, so not as good as yours.” He joked.

“Yeah, well. She’s missing out.” You winked at him.

“Not really.” Ned shrugged. “I’m exactly like Peter, just without the abs.”

“And I’m like Ned without the beautiful Hawaiian complexion.” Peter complimented back.

“Woah. Didn’t realize sitting here meant I’d be third wheeling on your date.” You joked.

“You’re not.” Peter didn’t get the joke. “You can sit here whenever you want.”

“Not that I care”, you prefaced ‘“but did you say Peter had abs? As in defined abdominal muscles?”

“Yeah.” Ned nodded as Peter’s face went red. You looked at him with a knowing smile and he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Don’t.” He warned you.

“I knew you were on steroids!” You said excitedly. “I called it and I was right.”

“I am not on steroids.” Peter whined.

“I knew it.” You insisted. “Your arms got bigger practically overnight and now you have abs?”

“I work out.” Peter lied.

“No you don’t.” You snorted.

“I’m Spider-Man.” He tried again.

“I’d believe you work out before I’d believe that.” You told him, much to his relief.

“Then I guess we’ll never know.” He shrugged, sneaking a knowing glance at Ned. “Do you want to come over later? We can continue working on the project.”

“Sure.” You shrugged, feeling nervous butterflies in your tummy. “I’ll meet you by the lockers after the last bell.”

“Don’t be late.” He smiled.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You deadpanned, making his smile fall.

“I’m just kidding.” You smiled. “God, you’re so gullible.”

“You don’t like to make things easy, do you?” Peter joked as he leaned on his hand to stare at you. The way he was looking at you sent a wave of butterflies into your tummy, causing you to look away.

“Hm.” You grinned. “No I do not.”

~

“Hey May.” Peter called as he set his keys down by the door. Your heart rate quickened when you heard footsteps coming into the room.

“Hey, Peter. How was your -oh! Hello.” May stopped short when she noticed you standing behind him.

“Hi, Miss Parker. I’m Y/n.” You introduced yourself since you didn’t meet her last time you were over.

“You’re Y/n?” May asked. “The one from your physics class?”

“Yeah. Peter and I have a few classes together actually.”

“Is this the one you called a b-“

“Beautiful, sweet Angel.” Peter cut her off and smiled at you. “Yes, this is her.”

“Oh.” She was surprised. “Hi. You can call me May.”

“It’s nice to meet you, May.” You smiled as you shook her hand.

“You too. Wow.” She laughed. “You’re nothing like I pictured.”

“May.” Peter said warningly.

“What?” She asked. “The way you described her, I figured she had horns and a little tail.”

“Oh, I do.” You nodded. “I just hide them well.”

“Peter.” May said pointedly. “She’s not nearly as bad as you told me. What are you guys doing here anyway?”

“We have a group project.” He said.

“We’re also dating.” You followed up. Peter looked at you in pleasant surprised, feeling very happy that you said that.

“Finally.” May scoffed. “I knew you liked her. No one whines that much about a girl he doesn’t like.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys to it.” May said. “Do you guys need anything before I go? Snacks? Drinks? Condoms?”

“We’ll take some condoms.” You said casually. May raised her eyebrows as Peter choked on his saliva.

“Kidding.” You said through an awkward smile. “That was a joke. Thank you, though.”

“We’re gonna go to my room now.” Peter quickly ushered you out of the room. “Bye May!”

“It was nice meeting you!” You called as he pushed you into his room. As soon as his door was closed, you put your hands on your hips.

“You told you aunt I was a bitch.” You pointed at him accusingly.

“No.” Peter pointed back at you. “I told her you were a brat.”

“Oh.” You relaxed. “Well that’s not that bad.”

“Is that a deal breaker?” Peter worried. “I kinda told her we hate each other.”

“Peter, you have to stop being so worried about messing this up.” You said as you rubbed his arms. “I told you, I want this to work. You have to relax a little.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just having a hard time believing you like me back.”

“I like you some of the time.” You shrugged before cracking a smile.

“Hey.” He whined.

“I’m teasing.” You told him. “I’m just getting used to being nice to you. If it makes you feel better, I’m starting to like you a lot more.”

“I guess that does make me feel better.” He mumbled.

“Good.” You smiled and patted his cheek. “Now stop whining about it, brat.”

“You’re the brat.” He scoffed playfully as he put his hand over yours. You sucked in a breath at how close you were, hearing your heartbeat in your ears. Peter’s eyes fell to your lips before going back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly.

“Shut the fuck up.” You matched his soft tone with a harsh one.

“Okay.” He backed up. “Sorry.”

“I’m kidding.” You assured him as you pulled him back to you. “You can kiss me.”

He rolled his eyes at you before cracking a smile.

“You’re mean.” He mumbled as he put his hands on your face.

“Yeah, but you like that.” You whispered as you leaned up to kiss him. He pulled your closer by your face as you slid your hands under his shirt. He was a surprisingly good kisser for someone who had never been in a relationship before, and you wanted to test his limits. You dragged your fingernails down his stomach and just as Ned told you, he had abs. He groaned at the unfamiliar feeling and began to move backwards. You followed him until you both fell on the bed. Peter rolled on top of you and continued kissing you, slipping his fingers through yours to hold your hands. You licked his bottom lip and he took the hint to open his mouth. His kisses were clumsy and awkward, but you absolutely loved them. You made out on his bed just like last time, your project long forgotten. Neither of you had any idea how much time had passed before you both collapsed on his bed to catch your breath. You rolled over and rested your head on Peter’s chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath you. You rested your hand on his stomach, mindlessly playing with the soft material of his sweater.

“Hm.” You pouted as Peter wrapped an arm around you and rubbed your shoulder with his thumb.

“What’s wrong?” He wondered.

“I really like you.” You realized as you made a disgusted face.

“Is that a bad thing?” He chuckled.

“Yes!” You exclaimed. “I don’t want to have feelings. Especially not for you. We’re supposed to be enemies but…”

“But what?” Peter asked when you trailed off.

“But I never want to leave this bed.” You mumbled as you you held him closer. Peter laughed again and kissed the top of your head.

“It’s okay.” He insisted. “I really like you too.”

“Gross.”

“If I have to stop worrying about messing this up, you have to stop worrying about letting this happen.” He reasoned. “It’s okay that we like each other. I didn’t see it coming either.”

You let out a sigh and gazed up at him.

“I hate when you’re right.” You mumbled.

“You’re gonna have to get used to that.” He told you as he stroked your face.

“Why would I get used to something that only happens once a month?” You asked. He gave you a look so you smiled.

“Kidding.” You told him. “We can still bully each other, right? Or does that have to stop if we’re dating.”

“It depends. You said you need communication, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “I don’t like it when you make jokes about me being on steroids. I’m scared people are going to believe you and then I’m gonna have to pee in a cup in front of the principle. I’m very pee shy.”

“Thank you for letting me know.” You laughed. “I won’t make those jokes anymore.”

“What about me?” He asked. “What’s off limits?”

“Well unlike you, I can take a joke, so nothing is off limits for me.” You shrugged, always taking the opportunity to tease him.

“Hardy har.” He said sarcastically.

“Actually, wait.” You thought of something. “Don’t call me a bitch. Brat is fine but bitch crosses the line.”

“That’s easy.” He said. “I only ever called you that in my head anyway.”

You gave him a look and he laughed.

“Kidding.” He mimicked your voice. “You have my word. I won’t ever call you that.”

“All right.” You sighed in content. “I feel better now.”

“Does this mean I can start calling you my girlfriend?” Peter asked.

“Not yet.” You decided. “I haven’t decided if I want to do this for real yet. I’m still weighing my options.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Take your time. No pressure.”

“Well that makes it sound like you don’t care either way.” You whined as you sat up.

“I do. I do care.” He assured you as he sat up. “But I don’t want to rush you. I really want to give this a try, but only if you do too.”

You looked at him for a while as you processed what he said.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He wondered.

“You’re making it really hard to justify not liking you all these years.” You told him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Good.” He shrugged. “I want you to like me.”

“I got my heart broken pretty badly in the past.” You whispered. “Because I liked someone a little too much.”

“I already told you, I’m not gonna break your heart. I’m not like that.”

Your lips tweaked into a smile before you leaned in to kiss him.

“You better not be.”

~

You continued casually dating Peter throughout the week, getting closer to telling him you wanted to be his girlfriend every day. He carried your books for you, opened your door, and shut you up with kisses, just like you asked. By Friday, you were ready to make it official. You found him in the hallway between classes but before you could tell him what you decided on, he started to speak.

“What are you doing after school today?” He asked as he bounced on his heels.

“Volunteer Club was cancelled so nothing.” You answered. “Why?”

“I want to take you somewhere.” He explained. “But it’s a surprise.”

“I knew it.” You shook your head. “I knew you and your cult were gonna kill me.”

“There is no cult.” He huffed. “Just meet me here after school, okay?”

“Okay.” You looked at him skeptically as he broke out into a grin. “But what-“

Peter cut you off with a kiss before telling you, “It’s a surprise! No more questions.”

He quickly scurried away before you could ask him anything else, leaving you a blushing mess in the hallway.

~

After school, you walked with Peter’s hands over your eyes to an unknown location. The walk was pretty far and his hands we’re starting to get sweaty on your face. If you didn’t like him so much, you would have complained.

“Okay.” Peter announced. “We’re here. You can look.”

Peter uncovered your eyes and let you look around. When you realized he had brought you to a cemetery, you looked at him for answers.

“I was doing a little research, I hope you don’t mind.” He prefaced. “This lot is closest to the Grey Sloan Memorial hospital, so it’s where they put most of their car crash victims.”

“Yeah.” You nodded as you kept your eyes ahead. “I know.”

“This is where they buried your parents, right?” He asked quietly. You looked at him, impressed that he was able to find out where they were, and nodded.

“Yeah.” You said softly. “It is.”

“Can you take me to them?” He asked politely. You opened your mouth to speak, but found no words. Instead, you took Peter’s hand and lead him to your parents graves.

There was a pile of roses laid in front of the headstones, all in different stages of decomposition. Peter took his backpack off his shoulders and pulled out two roses. He handed one to you and kept the other in his hand. Before you could say anything, Peter got down on one knee in front of the headstone.

“Mr. and Mrs. L/n, it’s an honor to meet you.” He began. “My name is Peter Parker. I’m sure Y/n has complained about me a few times to you guys. I’ve definitely given her a lot to complain about.”

You chuckled at his words as tears came to your eyes. You thought what he was doing was sweet, if a little morbid. You knew his intentions were pure and that’s what mattered.

“I came here today for two reasons. The first was to meet the parents of the most unpredictable, intelligent, and beautiful person I have ever met. She’s also super annoying. Like, you would not believe how annoying this girl is.” He joked. “Or I guess, maybe you would. In my opinion, she gets a little easier to endure everyday.”

Peter looked back at you to see if you were still listening, and you gave him a thumbs up.

“My other reason for coming here was to formally ask you for permission to date your daughter.” He continued. “I know it’s ultimately her decision, but she likes old fashioned romantic gestures. So here I am, asking for your blessing.”

You covered your mouth with your hand as happy tears fell from your eyes. Not only had Peter remembered what you listed off to him, he followed through with the most thoughtful romantic gesture you’d been given. He turned around again to look at you, shielding his eyes from the setting sun.

“They’re kinda quiet.” Peter joked. “Do you think they said yes?”

“Peter?” You said weakly.

“Yes?”

“I’m feeling that overwhelming need to kiss you right about now.” You told him with a tearful smile.

“I bet you are, loser. Can you give me a minute? I’m in the middle of a conversation.” He rolled his eyes before turning back to the headstone. “So, you guys enjoying the weather?”

You let out a laugh and wiped your face free of tears.

“Peter. Stand up right now.”

Peter obliged and stood up to face you.

“You said you liked romantic gestures.” He began to apologize. “It was either this or I pull out a ouija board and-“

You cut Peter off by throwing your arms around him and kissing him. He kissed you back immediately, stabilizing you as you stumbled into him. Something inexplicable made this kiss feel different from the last ones. This time, you were letting yourself feel everything you wanted to feel for Peter.

“Wait.” You pulled away suddenly and held him back from you.

“What’s wrong?” He worried.

“I don’t want to get caught making out with my boyfriend in a graveyard.” You told him. “That’s too weird. Even for you.”

“You called me your boyfriend.” Peter smiled happily, ignoring everything you said except that.

“Did I?” You played dumb. “I didn’t even notice.”

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[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 06

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7.4k [6/6]

notes: we’ve reached the end at last!!! thanks for sticking around through all the sporadic updates, and i hope you enjoy this final chapter!

warnings: some soft, soft smut.

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

The day before your scheduled return to Seoul, your parents decide to throw a joint party with the Jeons. From your bedroom window, you can see the plastic tables and chairs scattered across your adjoining lawns, the tarps and poles that will soon become makeshift pavilions lying in the grass. Though a row of low bushes divides your property, a small stone footpath weaves between the green leaves. You watch Mr. Jeon make his way into your yard, joining your father to unfurl a sign that’s emblazoned with Bon Voyage, {Name}! in bright blue print.

“Noona!” Jimin bursts into your bedroom with zero preamble, the door slamming into the wall behind it. You jump at the sudden intrusion, and flinch when he bounds across the room in two steps and grabs you by the shoulders.

“Ow, Chim,” you grumble, trying and failing to push him away. “Knock much?”

“Help,” he whines, trying to pull you to your feet. “I put too much salt in the marinade, and I just spilled Coke all over the counter. Please come help me.”

You sigh as he casts you the most pathetic look he’s capable of mustering, complete with a quivering bottom lip. Wiggling out of his iron grip at last, you grab him by the wrist and drag him out of your room. “Fine,” you tell him as you pull him downstairs. “You’re lucky I like you sometimes.”

“Love you too!” Jimin singsongs. He swoops in to plant a too-wet kiss on your cheek, and when you squirm in disgust he just giggles and blows you another.

The kitchen, upon your arrival, is empty. “Where’s Mom?” you ask as you grab a rag, tossing it over to your brother so he can clean up the spilled soda.

“She left a few minutes ago,” he replies, sopping up the mess and flinching when some splashes down from the counter onto the linoleum floor. “I think she went to the store to pick up a few things.”

“Food things?” you ask dubiously, eyeing the sizable pile of vegetables and meat on the counter. “Is this not enough? Is the entire neighborhood invited to this thing?”

“You know Mom,” he replies, shrugging. “Just let her have this. She misses having another girl in the house when you’re away. Says Dad and I gang up on her.”

You chuckle. “That sounds about right. On the bright side, though, she only has to deal with you for a few more months.”

“Jeez, that’s weird to think about.” Jimin sidles up behind you and settles his chin on your shoulder. “We’re going to be at the same university soon.”

“Yeah, because you’re a little copycat,” you tease, reaching back to flick him on the forehead. “What’s next? Are you going to start following me around the sandbox again? Come crying to me when someone’s mean to you?”

“Yeah, right.” Jimin steps back and puffs his chest out dramatically. “I’m going to protect you from all those weird college guys, remember? Who else is gonna do it if not me?”

In an instant, your mind goes to Jungkook. Your throat goes dry, and thankfully the jingle of keys in the front door saves you from needing to respond. Jimin’s attention is diverted when your mother steps through with an armful of shopping bags, and you take a moment to shove away all thoughts of your neighbor before following after your brother to help her unpack.

You haven’t seen much of Jungkook since your impromptu sleepover in his room. As your time at home winds to a close, your parents have been increasingly adamant to spend as much time together as possible. Family game nights became routine, and although Jungkook has joined you on a couple occasions, Jimin has seemingly made it his personal goal to ensure that you don’t spend a single second alone with your dark-haired neighbor. Certainly, you’ve texted a bit, but Jungkook’s been picking up more shifts at the restaurant lately and you often see him through your bedroom window returning home after a long dinner shift.

Jimin’s voice draws you out of your thoughts. “Huh?” you ask, blinking, and your brother shoots you an unimpressed look.

“I said, I’m going out back to help Dad with the grill,” he repeats. “Can you bring the cooler out?”

“Oh!” You glance over at the cooler on the ground, filled to the brim with beer and soda. Jimin has a bag of ice in his arms, and you quickly follow him out into the backyard, wheeling the cooler behind you. Together, the two of you push it into an unobtrusive corner of the back porch, and Jimin curses when he upends the bag of ice into it and spills nearly a third in the process.

“Smooth,” you remark.

“Like you could do any better,” is his reply.

It’s just after one o’clock, the sun beaming bright in the cloudless blue sky, when people begin trickling into the backyard where your father and Mr. Jeon have started grilling. You spot Taemin and Minho from where you’re perched on the porch steps, and grin when they wave and begin heading in your direction.

“Heading back to the big city so soon?” Minho asks as he comes to a stop, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “We’re gonna miss you around here.”

“You know you’re always welcome to visit,” you tell him with a smile. “Besides, I’ll be back. I do like to see my family every now and then, you know.”

“When exactly are you leaving tomorrow? Taemin asks curiously.

“Bright and early in the morning,” you reply. “I want to have plenty of time to get settled before I start interning on Monday.”

Minho gives you a squeeze. “You’ll kill it. I know you will.”

“Thanks,” you tell him. You’re about to say more—ask about the rest of their summer plans, maybe—when you spot a familiar dark head of hair exiting the back door of the Jeons’ house. Jungkook is wearing a collared shirt the color of sunshine, the sleeves rolled to his elbows to expose vascular forearms and the silver watch on his wrist. His faded jeans have a rip in the left knee, and you swallow when your gaze automatically trails down to the defined muscle of his thigh, a peek of skin visible through the denim.

Across the yard, your eyes meet. He raises a hand in greeting, his watch glinting in the sun, and you wave back. Everything else seems to fade into the background—Taemin and Minho, the hubbub of the partygoers, even the sizzle of the grill. Jungkook is walking in your direction now, and your throat goes oddly dry at the thought of talking to him face-to-face after nearly a week of intermittent texts and occasional glimpses. Your fingers itch to run through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and your body craves the feeling of his skin against your own. You’d even settle for a simple kiss—the press of his mouth and the slick of his tongue, his palms settling on your hips or looping around to the small of your back to pull you in close.

Needless to say, it’s been far too long since you and Jungkook last slept together. You wonder, vaguely, if there’s any way the two of you might be able to sneak away from the party and head somewhere a little quieter. One last handsy makeout session in his backseat, and one last chance for him to breach your walls with his cock. One last fix of the drug called Jungkook, before you return to your life in Seoul and try to forget the boundaries you’ve crossed in the last few weeks.

Because at the end of the day, Jungkook is your brother’s best friend, and therefore is off-limits. And as if Jimin himself is listening in on your thoughts, your little brother comes bounding out of nowhere, intercepting Jungkook on his path to you and dragging him away to help make more meat skewers for the grill.

The party continues. More people arrive, and you do your best to converse with everyone between bites of food. Many family friends have come out to wish you well, most of whom you haven’t seen in several years, so you put on your best smile and weather the innumerable comments about how much you’ve grown up since you last met. Off in the distance, you spot Jungkook chatting with Junghyun, who has driven in from downtown Busan. The elder Jeon brother has already wished you good luck with your internship, pulling you into a friendly hug when he first arrived, and you would’ve had to be blind to miss Jungkook’s penetrating stare as you hugged him back.

You’re returning from a bathroom break, easing the back door shut, when you are assailed by a tangle of limbs and excited cries. You end up with a faceful of strawberry blonde hair, and laughingly groan as you extricate yourself from the hug, offering a beaming Chaeyoung, Jisoo, and Lisa a grin. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Lisa grabs you by the shoulders and gives you a little shake. “You’re leaving tomorrow! When will you be back again?”

“Winter, definitely,” you promise. “Maybe the summer too, if I don’t have anything else going on.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Jungkook again. He’s looking in your direction, his gaze flitting between the half-eaten burger in his hand and where you’re standing on the back porch with the girls, as if he doesn’t want to get caught staring. The party has been underway for nearly two hours now, and you haven’t even come close to having a conversation with your dark-haired neighbor. It seems as though anytime Jungkook comes within speaking distance, he’s interrupted by friends, family, and at one point, even his family’s dog. Gureum has been a part of Jungkook’s family for as long as you can remember, and though he’s getting rather old, he’s still happily meandering around the yard today. You’ve already given in to his pleading face twice and offered him a bit of food from your plate, and you’ve watched plenty of others do the same. A quick scan of the yard reveals that the little white dog is now fast asleep in a sunny patch of grass, and you chuckle to yourself before your gaze finds Jungkook again. Your eyes meet, just for a second.

“{Name}, honey, can you come here for a second?”

You turn at the sound of your mother’s voice. “Sure,” you tell her, excusing yourself from the group of girls to follow her inside to the kitchen. “What is it?”

Your mom hands you a pile of small paper plates and plastic cutlery. “I’m bringing out the cake,” she says. “Can you put those out for me?”

You nod, watching as she picks up the cake. It’s an impressive two-tiered confection, frosted pale purple and decorated with pink cherry blossoms and the words Bon Voyage! in flowing white script. You make sure to hold the door open for your mother as she exits the house on your heels, and duck your head in embarrassment when a few of your neighbors start clapping at your arrival.

The cake is cut and distributed, and you take your piece over to a shady spot beneath the awning of one of the pavilions your father has assembled. Jimin joins you, wiping a frosting-covered finger on your nose, and you squeal and wipe at it furiously with a napkin before taking revenge. Slowly, the afternoon progresses into early evening, and the party begins to wind to a close. Friends and neighbors begin to trickle out, wishing you well before taking their leave. At the far end of the yard, you see Jungkook talking to Chaeyoung, and wonder what the two could possibly have to say to each other before Taemin and Minho draw your attention away.

“We gotta head out,” Minho says, coming to a stop before you and pulling you into a hug.

Taemin nods, tugging you into an embrace as well. “We’ll see you again soon though, yeah? We’re definitely going to come up to visit you guys at some point.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you tell him. “You’re crashing at Jimin and Jungkook’s though. I’m not taking you in.”

“Cruel, but fair,” Minho says with a laugh. “See ya then, Noona.”

“See you.”

The two depart, and you begin gathering up your used utensils and plates, seeking about for a trash can. You smile at your dad as he walks by, and scratch a sleepy Gureum behind the ears as you pass him. Just as you’ve finally found a trash can and dropped your garbage inside, however, a voice stops you in your tracks.

“Hey, Noona.”

Your heartbeat quickens. Slowly, you turn around, coming face to face with none other than Jungkook himself. His dark hair is ruffled by the breeze, and his silver hoop earrings glint in the late afternoon sun. Tentatively, you offer him a small smile, and he hesitates for a moment before smiling back.

“Hey.”

“You said that already,” you point out, trying to quell the sudden nervousness in your belly and swallowing down whatever moisture is left in your mouth. “Fun party, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook nods. “Really fun. And the food was great.”

You chuckle. “Yeah. We have our dads to thank for that.”

“Definitely.”

A beat of silence passes, and then two. Jungkook is scuffing his heel against the grass, one hand darting up to scratch his ear, and you are just beginning to wonder at his uncharacteristic awkwardness when he suddenly pulls a bag from behind his back.

“Here,” he says, practically shoving it into your hands. “I—I mean, we—got you a gift. From my family. And me.”

Blinking, you peer down at the green tissue paper peeking out of the top of the bag. “Oh, wow. You… you guys really shouldn’t have.”

“It was my mom’s idea,” Jungkook mumbles, looking anywhere but at you. “You can open it now if you want, though.”

You do. Peeling back the tissue paper reveals two items inside—one of which is a lovely leather-bound planner, complete with a calendar and to-do lists and pages for notes. The other is a small canvas, and your mouth falls open when you see what’s painted across the surface.

It’s the lake house. Behind it, you can see lush green hills and trees, all bordering the rippling expanse of blue water. Jungkook has captured the scene at high noon when the sun is at its peak in the sky, glinting off the lake like diamonds. Off to one side, you spot the canoe roped to the dock.

“Wow,” you breathe, awestruck. “Jungkook, this is beautiful. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s no big deal,” he says, shrugging and scratching the back of his neck. “I had to rush it a little, between work and all. It could’ve been better.”

“It’s perfect,” you tell him, running a fingertip across the canvas. You’ve always known that Jungkook has a talent for drawing, but you’ve never seen him use paint as his medium of choice until now. “Really. I love it, Jungkook. I’m going to hang it up in my dorm as soon as I get back.”

“Back,” Jungkook echoes. “Right.”

And before you can reply—before you can even inhale to speak—he’s pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms looping around your waist and settling there.

“Good luck with everything,” he says once he’s pulled back. And then he’s turning on his heel and walking away, and you’re left to wonder whether these past few weeks were simply a passing tryst after all.

///

As it turns out, your internship is more than enough to keep your mind from straying toward a certain dark-haired young man. Two months after Jungkook left you high and dry, you’re working harder than you ever have in your life. Your mornings are early and your afternoons run into evenings more often than not. “At least you’re getting paid, though,” Namjoon points out, glancing up from where he’s sitting on the couch when you stumble into your shared dorm one particularly late night. “You could’ve been one of the unlucky bastards who got stuck doing unpaid labor at their internships.”

“Oh, good. At least they’re working me to the bone ethically,” you snort, accepting the wine he hands over. Trust Namjoon to have an extra glass at the ready. Your suitemate, despite his flaws, always seems to know when you need a pick-me-up, and you suppose you can forgive his clumsiness and messiness for that. If he keeps it up, you may even start looking past the heart attacks he causes you every time he enters the kitchen and so much as looks at a knife.

Namjoon chuckles and tops off his own wineglass. “So now what? You hungry?”

“Starving,” you admit. “What are you thinking tonight? Pizza? Chinese?”

“Thai? I’ve been craving it lately.”

“I can do Thai.” You lean in closer as he pulls up the delivery menu on his laptop, pointing to what you want before sitting back and letting him place the order. “Can you get me an iced tea, too?

“Two iced teas, coming right up,” he replies. “You wanna start thinking about tonight’s feature presentation?”

Flopping onto your side, you reach into the bag you dropped on the floor and fish out your own laptop. You select a film from Netflix as Namjoon fetches his wallet to pay for your food, and the two of you settle in to wait as the opening credits of Disney’s Hercules roll.

“I’m not a good singer,” Namjoon cautions as the Muses begin their introductory monologue. “I just want you to know that beforehand. But out of all the Disney films? This soundtrack is unmatched.”

“Damn right,” you reply, clinking your glass against his. “Best soundtrack ever. We’ll both sound like dying cats, and I for one can’t wait.”

Namjoon laughs and leans over to flick off the lights. The room goes dark and the music begins, and you’re both singing along before you even hit the chorus. Spending time with Namjoon is comfortable, and though you’ve already lived together through the entirety of your first year of school, these past two summer months have strengthened your friendship tenfold. He’s almost like a brother by this point, and you wonder, vaguely, whether Jimin would get along with him anywhere near as well as you do.

As if summoned, your phone goes off. Jimin’s name lights up your screen, and you frown curiously at it before unlocking the device and swiping open the message.

[7:56pm] Chimchim: miss me yet? 😚

[7:56pm] You: no way, weirdo

[7:57pm] You: what do you even want anyway? sure you’re not the one missing me?

Immediately, your phone buzzes with a response.

[7:57pm] Chimchim: seriously? offensive

[7:57pm} Chimchim: orientation’s in less than a week or have u forgotten already?? good thing i’m reminding u

Your heart skips a beat in your chest when you realize that you had, in fact, forgotten. You remember your own college orientation vividly—a jam-packed weekend filled with building tours and ample opportunities to talk to current students. Several of your friends, you’d first met that weekend as you all tried to navigate a new chapter of your lives—Namjoon included. It’s how the two of you ended up living together—jammed into a suite with two others who thankfully meshed perfectly with the both of you. Neither Hoseok nor Jennie are here for the summer, but you’ve kept in touch while apart. Both of them poke relentless fun at Namjoon for opting to take summer classes, and you never hesitate to join in on the lighthearted teasing.

[7:58pm] You: oh yeah lol

Your response is casual and calm, but your heart rate is anything but. Jimin coming to orientation means Jungkook is coming too, and the thought of seeing him sends an anxious flurry of butterflies aflight in your stomach. You remember texting him the day after you came back—just a simple photo of his painting, hung proudly on the wall above your desk. He responded with a string of thumbs-up emojis, and that had been that. You’ve barely heard a word from him since, and Jimin’s occasional texts and social media posts are the only reason you know he’s still alive. Hesitantly, you type out another message, thumb hovering briefly over the send button before hitting it.

[7:58pm] You: you and jungkook are driving up, right?

[7:59pm] Chimchim: yep! road trip

[7:59pm] Chimchim: still not convinced jk’s car will make it all the way tho lmao

You think back to Jungkook’s beat-up sedan with its sputtering engine and scratchy seats, and the ominous way the passenger side window sometimes rattled if you slammed the door too hard. Can’t blame you for having doubts, you write back, earning yourself a hearty LMAOOO in response. And then:

[8:01pm] Chimchim: i’ll probably have to do most of the driving anyway

You frown, brows furrowing. Why’s that?

[8:02pm] Chimchim: just a hunch. jk’s been weird lately

[8:02pm] You: …weird how?

[8:02pm] Chimchim: just weird. a little distracted, maybe? he doesn’t answer me when i ask him whats wrong

[8:03pm] You: how long has he been weird?

[8:03pm} Chimchim: idk 🤷‍♂️

[8:03pm] Chimchim: 2 days, maybe 3? i think he might be worried about orientation or college or something. either way i don’t trust him to operate a motor vehicle rn

Your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth as you consider your brother’s revelation. It’s perfectly natural to be nervous about something new, but you still can’t help but wonder if Jungkook’s strange behavior might have anything to do with seeing you again. But before you can dwell on it more, your phone buzzes again in your palm.

[8:04pm] Chimchim: i mean srsly he didn’t even hit on mina when we ran into her at jin’s the other day. do u remember her? the girl from the bbq place we went to for grad dinner??

[8:04pm] Chimchim: but on the bright side, it looks like he and chae made up. about time, tbh. things were really awkward for a while

[8:05pm] Chimchim: wait u knew about them, right? they dated for a while?

You take a deep breath before responding, the gears of your brain whirring as you fight to process all of the information he’s dumped on you. Yeah, you write back. Chae told me. They’re okay now?

[8:06pm] Chimchim: yeah. i think they talked at your going away thing

The memory of them chatting in your parents’ backyard resurfaces, and a rush of relief follows it. Even though your conversation with Chaeyoung at the mall confirmed that she was no longer angry with Jungkook, the guilt of sneaking around with him continued to linger in the back of your mind. You’re definitely going to buy her a box of cookies from Kim’s Kitchen as an apology the next time you see her. Maybe even two.

After a few more texts, your conversation with Jimin peters out. He signs off, citing a house party he has to start getting ready for, and you settle back in to watch the rest of the movie with Namjoon, smiling reassuringly when he shoots you a curious look and mouths, everything okay?

Everything is okay, you decide. Jungkook’s weird behavior isn’t your problem, and there’s not a whole lot you could do even if you wanted to, considering how little you’ve spoken in the last eight weeks. That doesn’t stop you from opening up your messages and scrolling down to Jungkook’s name, though. It doesn’t stop you from opening up the last conversation you had—something about a particularly annoying customer at Jin’s restaurant—and scrutinizing every word.

Later that night, just as you’re brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed, your phone buzzes again. The name attached to the text immediately sends your heart into your throat, and you shakily towel off your hands before swiping it open.

[12:25am] Jungkook: i mis s yuo.

Drunk, the little voice in your brain whispers. He’s drunk. Belatedly, you remember the party Jimin had mentioned, and realize that Jungkook must be there as well. Alcohol has clearly loosened him up, enough to instigate this unexpected sentiment, but you are painfully sober. At a loss, you stare at his message until your screen goes dark. Irritably, you wake it up again, unlocking the phone so you can stare some more, and after what feels like an eternity, you type out a response.

[12: 28am] You: drink some water, jungkook

He doesn’t respond. You wait for five minutes, and then ten, but your phone screen remains obstinately dark and devoid of new notifications. Climbing into bed, you check one last time, but there’s still no response from him.

A resigned sigh leaves your lips as you turn off your bedside lamp and plug in your phone to charge. Sinking down into the mattress, you push away all thoughts of Jeon Jungkook as you close your eyes and wait for sleep to come.

///

On Friday night, you once again find yourself working late. Thankfully, Jimin and Jungkook aren’t due to arrive until later in the evening, so you still have plenty of time to change into comfier clothes and eat something before you have to play host.

Or at least, that’s what you thought. When you swing open the front door of your home, however, you’re greeted by two extra pairs of shoes—one of which is a certain individual’s signature black Timberlands, scuffed and worn from years of use. “Joonie?” you call cautiously, toeing off your loafers and skirting around the corner to poke your head into the kitchen. “Are you home?”

No reply. You wander a little further, entering the living room, and that’s where you’re greeted by the sight of your suitemate, his sheepish grin flanked on either side by two very familiar faces.

“Noona!” Jimin is grinning from ear to ear, and immediately skips forward to smoosh your cheeks between his palms. “We got here early!”

You slap his hands away and poke your fingertips into his ribs. “I can see that,” you retort. “What I don’t get is why you didn't bother to tell me.”

Jimin shrugs. “Surprise?”

You sigh and turn instead to Namjoon, who’s watching your exchange with an amused smile. “Thanks for getting them settled in,” you tell him gratefully. “You should’ve called me, though. I would’ve tried to get off work early if I’d known.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Namjoon waves you off. “They got here about half an hour ago, so it wouldn’t have made much difference, anyway.”

“Still, let me thank you,” you insist. “Dinner’s on me tonight, since I have to feed these heathens anyway. Do you want to order something in? Go out?”

“I’m okay either way,” Namjoon says, shrugging, and you turn to Jimin and Jungkook questioningly.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Jimin says. “I think we’re both pretty tired from the drive, so staying in might be nice.”

“Anything’s fine.” Jungkook is staring down at his right hand as if he’s trying to crack a secret code etched in his fingerprints, and when he speaks, his voice is soft. “Whatever you want, Noona.”

You haven’t forgotten about his text from a few days ago, and judging by the way he can’t even look you in the eye, neither has he. It’s strange seeing him here now—wearing ripped jeans and a black t-shirt like he so often does, his feet encapsulated in plain white socks. His hair has grown out since you last saw him, leaving only the barest glimpse of his silver earrings visible beneath the dark, shaggy locks. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like to run your fingers through it, but quickly quash that train of thought before it can progress any further.

The group eventually settles on ordering pizza, which you order and pay for on your phone. Conversation flows easily as Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon get to know each other, and when the food arrives, Namjoon pulls out his collection of board games. The remainder of the evening passes in a haze of pizza and game tournaments, and it’s only when midnight has come and gone that you decide to call it a night. Jungkook and Jimin settle into the two empty bedrooms—Jungkook in Hoseok’s and Jimin in Jennie’s—and you bid everyone goodnight before retiring to your own bed.

You don’t miss the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on your retreating figure, but he doesn’t say anything and neither do you. He’ll be busy with all the orientation events scheduled tomorrow, and you’re planning to spend a good chunk of the day running errands that you don’t have time for on weekdays. The question of why he’d texted you that night remains on your mind, but you don’t want to ask. And you especially don’t want to ask why he’d never responded after that first message. Confrontation has never been your style, and with any luck, you’ll be able to avoid spending extended periods of time with him altogether.

With any luck, this weekend will pass with no further incident, and you’ll be able to spend the remaining few weeks of your summer in peace.

///

It’s just after two o’clock in the afternoon when you return to your dormitory, a grocery bag clutched in each hand and a tote bag draped over one shoulder. You’ve finished up with all your errands for the day, and even managed to get some reading done for one of your upcoming fall classes. Dropping your bags in the kitchen, you stretch your arms overhead lazily before starting to unpack your groceries. Namjoon is holed up in the library working on an essay, and Jimin and Jungkook don’t appear to be around either. A moment of rare quiet is welcome in your normally hectic life, and you take the opportunity to put some music on and change into your comfiest shorts and a tank top.

You’ve just finished popping some popcorn and are settling onto your bed to watch some Netflix when someone clears their throat from your doorway. Startled, you look up, your eyes locking on Jungkook standing there. He’s wearing a loose gray sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, and you swallow when you see the way he’s rolled up the sleeves to expose vascular forearms and the silver watch on his wrist. Jungkook blinks at you silently from behind his dark fringe of hair, and a beat passes before he clears his throat and speaks.

“Hey.”

You straighten up into a seated position, crossing your legs and plopping the bowl of popcorn in your lap. “Hi.”

Jungkook hesitates, then shoves both hands into his pockets. “Can… can we talk?”

“Sure.” You incline your head. “Talk.”

Your curt tone doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Awkwardly, he shuffles his feet for a moment before scratching behind his neck and ruffling his already tousled hair further. “My phone died,” he says, and you blink confusedly at him, twice, before responding.

“What?”

Jungkook winces but presses on nonetheless. “My phone,” he explains. “It died the other night. I was going to charge it before the party, but I forgot to plug it in and then it was too late. I didn’t—” He sighs. “I would’ve texted you back, otherwise.”

Belatedly, you realize he’s talking about his text from a few nights ago and why he never responded. His reasoning is relatively sound, at least, but you still have an unanswered question. “Why?” you ask, your voice soft. “Why did you text me that night? I don’t hear from you for weeks, and then you message me that out of the blue? Why?”

“Fuck, I know.” Jungkook takes two steps into your bedroom, before he seemingly thinks better of it and takes a step back. “I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve texted you more, or earlier, but—” Another sigh, and this time he rakes his hands through his hair and sends his dangling earrings tinkling. “I’m sorry. I really am. I was being a coward, and…”

Jungkook trails off, and you see that his attention has flitted elsewhere. He’s staring at the painting of the lake house, still displayed prominently above your desk, and you see the gears in his head whirring before he speaks again.

“You… you still have that hanging up there?”

You glance at the painting before looking back at him. “Well, yeah. Of course I do. It reminds me of home.”

It reminds you of him, too, but you don’t voice that particular thought aloud. Instead you turn your attention back to your increasingly fidgety companion, leaning back on your hands and regarding him with your head tilted curiously.

“What were you saying about being a coward? What are you afraid of, Jungkook?”

Jungkook rubs his jaw and sucks in a deep breath. “You,” he finally answers, after several beats that feel like several lifetimes. “I’m afraid of losing you. And I feel like I already might have, especially since we left things so weird at the party. I should’ve…” He shakes his head. ”I should’ve said something sooner. I should’ve told you how I really feel, but I was stupid and scared and I just couldn’t find the right time to do it.”

Your breath catches. Your mouth goes dry and your chest feels tight, and when you try to speak, your tongue feels like sandpaper. “I—” you begin, and it’s all you manage to get out. Jungkook is murmuring your name in a voice so gentle that your heart skips two whole beats, and when you look at him again he is much, much closer than before.

“But I guess late is better than never, right?” Jungkook breathes. Stopping at the edge of your bed, he drops to his knees, and you don’t protest when he takes your hands and cups them protectively between his own. “It’s you, {Name}. It’s always been you. I tried to forget about my feelings when you left for Seoul—tried to convince myself that it was just a stupid crush—but nothing I did worked. I couldn’t forget about you. And then you came back, and I just knew.” Gently, he traces a fingertip across your knuckles before looking up and meeting your gaze in earnest. “I’m in love with you, {Name}. I’ve been in love with you for years, and I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. And… and I really hope that I haven’t fucked everything up by telling you this now.”

“You—” Your voice sticks in your throat, and you swallow thickly before trying again. “You haven’t. I… I like you, Jungkook. I like you so, so much, and I think I owe you an apology for trying to push you away so much. It’s just that these feelings… they’re so new. And I—well, I don’t know if I love you yet, but I think that I definitely could.”

“Then that’s good enough for me,” he replies, his face stretching into a wide, crinkly eyed grin. “As long as you agree to be my girlfriend, and let me have the chance to make you fall for me.” And when you nod, giggling, Jungkook leans in and presses his mouth to yours.

The kiss is soft and sweet, and lasts several moments before a sobering thought enters your head. You break away, frowning, and Jungkook’s brow furrows as he takes in your expression.

“What’s wrong?”

You bite your lip, worrying at the delicate skin. “This… thing. This relationship—what if it doesn’t work? I mean, god, you’re Jimin’s best friend in the entire world. What if we have an argument? What if—what if we break up?”

“We won’t,” Jungkook replies confidently, lacing his fingers with yours before leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against yours affectionately. Instinct has you leaning into him, seeking out proper contact, and you feel his lips curl into a smile as he indulges you with yet another kiss.

“You can’t know that for sure,” you murmur when you break apart, but your voice is readily lost in the huff of laughter that escapes your companion.

“Maybe not for sure,” he says. “But I’ve loved you since I was about eight, and I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon.”

This time, when your lips meet, there’s a bit more heat behind it. Jungkook curls a hand around your nape to draw you in close, and licks sweetly into your mouth when you part for him. He’s quick to press you down onto your mattress, and you sigh as he trails down your body and takes the straps of your tank top with him. The material falls off your shoulders, leaving just enough room to tug the rest of the shirt down to your waist, and he groans when your bare breasts are freed.

“No bra? Fuck, you’re killing me.”

You arch beneath him, huffing out a breathless little laugh when he seizes the opportunity to envelop a nipple into his mouth. His fingers find the other—squeezing and rubbing and tweaking until you’re quivering in his grasp. “Jungkook,” you breathe, waiting until he lets out a soft hum of acknowledgment. “Jimin—he could come back any minute. Maybe we shouldn’t do this right now.”

Jungkook glances up from where he’s exploring the underside of your breasts, tracing the soft swell of delicate skin with his lips and tongue. “Jimin,” he says, “is at a special session for his major. He won’t be back for hours, so why don’t you relax and let me make you feel good, hmm?”

And, without even waiting for an answer, he drops down to his knees and digs his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts. Your legs are dangling off the edge of the bed, and Jungkook easily tugs the material off them, taking your panties right along with it. Tossing them aside, he doesn’t hesitate to spread your legs and slot himself into the newly created space. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips, and your breath hitches when you glance down the length of your body and see the ravenous glint in his eyes.

There’s no doubt in your mind that you’re wet enough to take his cock right now. You can feel the slick gathering between your legs, and the smirk on Jungkook’s face tells you that he’s noticed it too. Teasingly, he presses an experimental fingertip to your clit, watching in satisfaction as your hips buck off the mattress at the flare of pleasure. Then he’s sliding down, sinking a lone finger into your entrance and curling upward to find the soft spot that he knows will unravel you in a matter of minutes. A gasp escapes you when he finds it, your hips rising again, and he soothes you with a warm palm on your thigh and a sweet kiss to your hipbone.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly Jungkook is able to build up your orgasm, but then again, you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised. He’s always been a quick study, and you’ve never been sure whether it’s stubbornness or determination that drives him to excel at his passions. Here and now, with two of his fingers buried inside your cunt and a third teasing its way in, you don’t even care which it is. All that matters is the pressure building in the pit of your belly, and the way Jungkook keeps murmuring your name and encouraging you to cum for me, princess. It’s enough to push you over the edge, your back arching off the bed and your lips parting in a moan as you ride out your high.

“So pretty.” Jungkook circles your clit with his thumb, his fingers still sheathed within your walls. “You always take my fingers so well.”

“Think I’d rather take your cock instead,” you reply breathlessly, sagging back against the mattress and reaching for him. Jungkook takes the hint, gritting out a hoarse curse before crawling up your mostly bare body and crushing his mouth to yours in a searing kiss. You grab the hem of his gray sweatshirt, pulling it up and over his head, and are more than pleased to discover he’s not wearing anything underneath. His sweatpants soon follow, Jungkook impatiently kicking the material off his ankles, and you sigh out his name when he wraps you in his arms, skin against skin.

“I’m not going to last very long,” he warns you, his breath a puff of hot air against the shell of your ear. “Promise I’ll make it up to you later. Just wanna feel you right now.”

“Go on, then,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “How do you want me?”

Jungkook groans, no doubt having a furious internal debate with himself, before reaching down and taking his cock in one hand. “Just like this,” he decides, gazing down at the way you’re spread out on your back for him. Deliberately, he settles between your thighs, giving himself a few pumps before positioning himself at your entrance. “Wanna kiss you while I fuck you. Wanna kiss you for the rest of my life.”

He’s pushing forward then, stealing the breath from your lungs along with any thoughts that may have crossed your mind at his last sentiment. Jungkook sinks into you until you’re gasping at the fullness, his hands grabbing at the meat of your hips and pulling you against him with every thrust. He fucks into you with reckless abandon, hoarse praise and gritted curses falling freely from his lips as he uses your body to seek out his own high. Every now and then, his mouth seeks out yours in a sloppy kiss, which you happily indulge as his rhythm falters and becomes increasingly erratic.

Jungkook floods you with his warmth, his arms gathering you up tightly as his cock slowly softens within you. His lips find yours, and this kiss is a simple, tender one—an affectionate press and a crinkly eyed smile that has you automatically smiling back.

“I don’t know why you’re so happy,” you tease, poking him in his slightly sweaty chest. “Jimin’s going to throttle you for this, you know.”

“Worth it,” he replies cheekily. “Anything’s worth it as long as you kiss me better afterward.”

“Gross,” you tell him, laughing. “You’re so lame.”

“But you still like me,” he says with a shrug. Then he grins. “The real question, though, is whether you like me enough to help me move in the fall.”

You hum, hiding your smile. “Depends. What’s in it for me?”

A positively wicked grin spreads across his face and settles there. “Why don’t I give you a preview?”

///

A few weeks later -

Jimin hums softly under his breath as he strolls into his new dorm, a cardboard box cradled in his arms. There’s a growing pile of boxes in the middle of the living area already, and he’s only just found an empty spot to drop the latest when he hears an odd noise coming from the bathroom. A wet, smacking sound, kind of like—

“Jungkook, you dog,” he snorts, throwing the cracked door open. “Get your ass out here and help me unpa—“ He stops in his tracks.

The scene before him doesn’t make sense. Jungkook is standing in front of him with wide eyes and fear in his expression, but that doesn’t make sense. At least it doesn’t until he sees you in the reflection of the mirror over the sink, your clothes disheveled and your lips swollen.

“Wait, we can explain,” Jungkook begins, following the trajectory of Jimin’s gaze and waving his hands in a fluttery panic. “I swear, Jimin, it’s not what you think—“

“That’s my sister,” Jimin says, his voice dangerously calm.

“Yeah, but—”

“You put your hands on my sister,” Jimin continues matter-of-factly, as if Jungkook hadn’t spoken at all. “I’m going to fillet your dick with a dull knife and serve it over rice.”

And before you can catch your breath and open your mouth to stop him, Jimin leaps forward, his fingers aimed directly for Jungkook’s throat.