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dokoni-mo · 3 years

Text

She Truly Was || Muzan Kibustsuji x F!Reader

Summary: Enmu helps Muzan remember you.

SFW // Fluff with small amounts of Angst

Word Count: 4626

WARNINGS: *slight Mugen Train spoilers*, slight mentions of implied sexual activity, obsessive(?) behavior, Muzan is soft for one person only, some angst, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, I also barely proofread this lol

A/N: I've had this in my head for a while and decided to write it down. This is largely just a compilation of scenarios I made in my head to fall asleep at night when I was stressing over exams and stuff, all loosely thrown together with a plot. This is my first time writing for demon slayer, so please be patient! I also am basing a lot of my info about the characters on s1 of the anime, some of the manga, and the wiki. I apologize if something isn't accurate. tldr; I just think he's neat.

Despite having lived through thousands of years with hundreds of stormy nights in the midst, Muzan Kibutsuji never learned to appreciate them.

Something about nights like those in Japan just never sat right with the demon. It wasn't that they were too dreary, not at all. Life as a demon was plenty dreary. On the other hand, it wasn't that they were to lively either. No one ever went out on stormy nights; demon or not. Perhaps it was just because the rain was another reminder of the singularity that was being a demon. The poignant pitter patter just seemed to have a way of whispering to whoever heard it, telling them the most unpleasant yet quiet truths of their lives.

After Muzan's bloody meeting with the lower moons, he had told Enmu his task Muzan had planned for the pitiful, weaker demon. Although he had doubts that Enmu could hear him over the sound of the weaker demon's screams of pain from the blood he gave, Muzan was pleasantly surprised when Enmu understood the orders the first time around. Seeing as though it would cause trouble if the lower moon started to go around bragging about his newfound power and job, Muzan decided it would be best to keep a crimson eye on the demon.

This is what led to the scene before Muzan now.

Muzan had taken Enmu back to one of his many properties scattered across Japan, this one being tucked away in a lush, quiet forest in the middle of seemingly nowhere. The lower moon had not said a word throughout the entire journey there, and still refused to say anything now. Most likely out of fear.

Although it had been a long day of wrangling the lesser worms he called pawns (or "moons" if he was generous), Muzan did not want to show any weakness towards Enmu by resting. To busy himself, Muzan decided to do the tedious work the humans have him do in the job he took to please his human wife.

That insufferable woman.

With his bowler hat placed on his desk, Muzan had taken a seat in his large, leather chair, ordering Enmu to stand at the edge of the desk and face the opposite way. And, for extra edge, he was not to say or do anything.

It had been about two hours since then. The room was filled with only the sounds of Muzan's writing and the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Although he ordered it to be that way, Muzan was already sick of it.

Peering his red eyes up from the papers scrawled below him, Muzan fixated his bone-chilling gaze upon the back of Enmu's head. Muzan could see the corners of the lower moon's mouth turned upwards as he faced the wall, presenting himself with an expression of dumb content.

Freak.

Enmu was definately a curious specimen. So eager to die, yet so eager to please Muzan. The demon lord would have been confused if he were not who he was.

Perhaps it was his own boredom setting in, perhaps it was because he wanted to feed his already gargantuan ego, or perhaps it was just because he was tired, Muzan decided to speak up.

"Tell me," Muzan said, his deep, smooth voice making Enmu perk up slightly, "Why is it that are you so loyal to me?"

Enmu took this as an opportunity to finally move, but not without some caution. The lower demon only turned his neck towards Muzan, along with a tilt of his shoulder. Muzan noted the disobedience of orders, but decided to let it slide this time.

The rain must have told him to be generous that night.

"Why, Master Kibustsuji," Enmu said, a faint blush adorning his cheeks, "It is because I am so delighted to be in your presence, and have my power be of service to you."

The demon lord felt his jaw clench at this, his red eyes peering up at the lower moon from under his abyssal lashes. Although Enmu had an... odd, way of putting things, Muzan always did like it when someone stroked his ego, even if all they ever said was the same banter over and over again. He was nearly perfection, afterall.

Muzan sat quietly and pondered Enmu's response for a second, before formulating his own.

"Your power, as you put it," Muzan said, his voice firm, "What is it?"

Enmu's grin widened, "Dream Manipulation, Master. I can enter, manipulate, or control anyone's dreams however I want to. I can use it to kill from the inside, eating a person spirit first and body second. I can also put people to sleep."

Muzan wasn't necessarily impressed by this, but he wasn't disappointed either. An ordinary power, really. Nothing that could ever rival his own.

However...

Muzan's gaze flickered down to the surface of his desk. A flicker of a long lost yet not forgotten feeling bubbled deep inside of his being. A mere spark of light, really, a piece of warmth he felt from long ago, lost to the wayside by the vestiges of time.

It was something Muzan thought he would never experience again.

Dream manipulation, huh?

It might be worth a try.

Muzan looked back up to Enmu, sharpening his gaze, "Tell me, are you able to give... pleasant dreams?"

Enmu was surprised to hear this come from Muzan to say the absolute least. He took this as another opportunity to disobey orders and turn to Muzan again, this time fully and whole-heartedly. The lower moon looked right into those blood red eyes, looking for any sign of a rare flicker of humor or joking.

Muzan's gaze was serious, poised as ever.

Muzan was being for real.

Taking a pause to swallow, Enmu allowed his soft smirk to return to his gray, pale face.

"Why," the lower moon retorted, "I can, Master, yes."

Muzan eyed the lesser demon for a good second at his response.

This move was risky. It could damage his image. Yet, if he was to do this with any of his pawns, he would do it with Enmu. Enmu seemed to have no intent on harming Muzan or his image in any way; he was far too loyal for that.

Besides, if someone were to question the might of Muzan, he could just prove them wrong.

Muzan leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and lacing his fingers together, wrapping them around his knee. His icy gaze still on Enmu, he spoke again.

"I wish to see a pleasant dream."

Muzan nearly rolled his eyes when he saw just how wide Enmu's grin had gotten and just how flushed his face got.

It was repulsive.

But, if it meant what Muzan thought it would mean...

It was worth stomaching.

After a breif moment used to compose himself, Enmu's smile faded to normal again. He pulled up the sleeves to his coat.

"I will give you a dream where you will experience the happiest days of your life over again, Master Kibutsuji," the lower moon stated, "Is this to your liking or would you prefer something else?"

"No," Muzan stated flatly, "That is fine."

Perfect, even.

Enmu smiled widely one last time, holding out his arm and pointing it at the demon lord.

"Sweet dreams, my lord." Was the last thing Muzan heard before falling into a deep, deep sleep.

"Muzan..."

Despite his blood demon art being so much weaker than his, Muzan wasn't quite ready for just how Enmu put him into a dream like that. Muzan's headache had grown ten-fold now, and he could feel that his face was scrunched.

"Muzan..."

Slowly but surely regaining his full consciousness, Muzan could first feel that he was in different clothes than what he had been wearing before. These ones were lighter, softer, and much more airy than his normal suit. Squinting open his crimson eyes, he saw that he was in what appeared to be a long, dark, flowing kimono.

The second thing Muzan could feel was that it was rather cool where he was, and that he appeared to be lying on the ground. Sifting his weight slowly, he could then feel that his head was lain upon what felt like two soft, plush pillows firmly squished together.

The third thing, however, took him a little longer to discern quite that it was. At first, he thought it was a pair of chopsticks running across his scalp over and over again. Upon, further thought, however, Muzan was further snapped back into awareness.

Those were not chopsticks.

Those were fingers.

All too familiar fingers.

"Muzan..!"

Muzan felt a stir deep down inside of him. He recognized this feeling, this touch, this warmth. It had been so, so long since he had felt like this. How long was it again? It had to be an eternity ago. An eternity wrapped within all time time in the world.

Muzan was speechless. Muzan couldn't move. Muzan was struck from deep within, and nothing in the world could ever compare to its blow.

"Muzan!"

Although the calling of the demon's lord name had been going on for some time now, he was just now able to respond.

Tilting his chin upwards towards the voice's source, Muzan nearly fell to bits right then and there. If he was someone else, he would have wept deep, earnest tears at the very sight of the being above him. For everything and nothing surrounded him as he studied the bright, radiant face above him, and nothing else seemed to exist other than that smile.

Other than her.

Her.

Oh, her, her, her.

His beloved. His sun, moon and stars. The ground beneath his feet and the air around him. His joy and love, his woes and sorrow. His fears and excitement. His warmth and his cold.

You.

You were really here.

"I was wondering if you were ever gonna wake up," you said, a faint laugh behind your voice, "You were out for so long!"

This scene was all too familiar to Muzan. He had replayed it in his head countless times, as if it were the only record left in the world.

He knew what this day was, and he knew all of your lines.

How could he ever forget?

Every moment he had ever spent with you had been a blessing.

Right now, his head was cradled in your lap, your soft, delicate fingers combing through his hair oh so gently as he had slept. It was deep into the night, and ordinarily Muzan would not be sleeping at this time. However, your touch was just so relaxing to him.

Everything about you was.

Today, you and him had spent the night wandering through the garden of your home together, chatting about anything and everything. It was only about two months into your relationship with Muzan. Muzan had first come to your home with the intention of eating everyone within the residence, but once he saw your face, watched you, saw your heart, your spirit, your you, he just couldn't.

He just...

couldn't.

You were human, yes.

But Muzan didn't care.

He was in love with you.

Muzan had yet to tell you the truth about him, however.

But that could come later.

"Muzan, are you alright?" He heard your voice echo again, snapping him out of his trance. He saw your face painted with worry, making his own features soften.

His darling angel. If only you knew just how much it pained him to see you with anything other than a smile.

Muzan reached his hand upwards, steadily maneuvering his fingers to brush your hair behind your ear and cup your warm cheek. He was shocked at how real you felt, shocked at just how similar it felt to all those years ago.

Perhaps Muzan had to give Enmu a reward.

The demon lord caressed your cheek gingerly with his cold, calloused thumb, savoring in just how warm your flesh was compared to his. For the first time in what felt like eons, Muzan felt a smile adorn his handsome features. Not one put on just to appease the humans around him, but genuine. The type of smile only you got to see.

Only you.

"I'm more than alright, my darling." He responded, his voice soft and warm, without the normal venom he gives to his subordinates. A voice reserved restrictively for you.

Finally, you let a soft grin come over your heavenly face again, making all seven of Muzan's hearts swell.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up," you said, "But it's about to be dawn soon. I don't want you to get a burn, so let's go in the house again, okay?"

Ah yes, the lie Muzan told you. He, of course, couldn't be with you in the sunlight (as much as he wanted to). So he had told you that he had a rare disorder that made him extra prone to sunburns and heatstroke.

Just something to keep you safe from the truth.

His soft smile still adorning his features, Muzan gave you a nod as he slid his head off of your lap. Since you were on your knees, you were quicker to stand than him. Brushing off your kimono quickly, you offered one of your hands to Muzan to help him stand, of which he gladly took. He had long since forgotted just how perfectly your hand fit into his, along with how radiant your kimono made you look.

Once he was back on his feet, Muzan couldn't help but to hold your arms, holding you a few feet away from him to simply admire you for a moment, his crimson eyes doing laps around your face and body.

You were perfect to him.

Every single thing about you was without flaw in his eyes. Not one curve of your body was too shallow or too wide. Not one strand of your hair was misplaced or without poise. Not one feature on your face took away from your radiant beauty. And you had not one bad bone inside of your body.

Muzan was never one to believe in angels.

However, if anyone in any part of the world were to tell him that you were one of them, straight from the heavens themselves,

He would believe them.

As soon as Muzan stepped through the door, his hand in your own, the scene before him changed in one giant, peaceful flash of white light.

Before him now was no longer the house that he had shared with you all those years ago. Now, in its place, was a beautiful, lush springtime garden, all dredged under the cover of the night. It was not devoid of light, however. There were a few lanterns afloat in the water of the stream, as well as some within the structure of the small bridge that went over top of it. Flowers adorned every nook and cranny of the space, and the occasional insect or bird would make a brief appearance.

A small slice of paradise, just for you and Muzan Kibutsuji.

Fearing that you were no longer by his side, Muzan turned his head. His fears were quickly subsided when he saw you there next to him. Your delicate hands were placed on the railing of the bridge, and your eyes were fixated on the calm water below, almost as if it were a window into the heavens above. There was a small smile plastered on your face, and the delicate lights illuminated each of your features so perfectly.

Muzan knew this night.

This was the night he told you the truth.

The truth about him, about his "condition", about where he went for days on end, about why he couldn't walk with you in the sun, about everything.

This was the one night Muzan had ever felt fear.

"Is it really true, Muzan?" You asked, your gaze still fixated on the water below, "Are you really a demon?"

Muzan felt his lips part in small surprise. Even though he had replayed this night time and time again in his mind, it felt as if this were all happening for the first time over again.

Enmu really was good at this.

Muzan wet his lips before responding, setting his gaze on your precious, beautiful face and refusing to move it, "Yes, my love. It is true. I would not lie to you about this, I..."

A pause to collect this thoughts, before he could continue, "I kept it from you to protect you, (Y/N). I did not want any harm to come to you. My darling, I... I love you. My love for you knows no bounds. You are the stars that shine at night, and you are the shining moon above. Each time I look upon you, all I can stand to think of is how deep my love for you runs. I... I need you, (Y/N). I do not wish for you to be frightened of me, my angel. I would never, not ever harm you, nor let any harm come to you."

You still weren't looking at Muzan, yet your smile had yet to falter. Muzan felt a bubble of nervousness in his gut. Although he knew your response to his words already, even thinking of this moment never failed to make his stomach churn. He hoped his words to you were enough. He doubted that he had ever said anything more truthful in his entire life.

After a long pause of silence between the two of you, you closed your eyes and widened your smile. Then, you opened your eyes again, finally turning to face your lover. You looked Muzan right in the eyes, seemingly unfazed that you were standing so dangerously close to the most powerful being alive.

You were so brave.

Your heart was so big.

Muzan felt so overwhelmed.

"Muzan," you said, your cheeks dusting a light pink.

What you said next to him, Muzan could never get out of his head, never forget. No matter how much he tried, he would never not ever forget your words in that moment.

Within that one short, simple phrase, the king of demons fell in love all over again.

"I've always known."

Another flash within his crimson eyes, and the scene had changed again. Nighttime again, of course, but this time within the confines of the bedroom you and Muzan shared. Both you and Muzan were nude, sans the blanket that covered the lower half of your forms. Muzan was on his back, one strong arm wrapped around you, the other cradling the back of his head. Your legs were intertwined with his, and your hair and hands were sprawled out on top of his lean, muscular chest.

Muzan knew this night as well.

It was his most loved night with you, but also his most dreaded.

How cruel fate was.

Stroking your back with the tips of his fingers, Muzan stared up at the ceiling above the two of you. Your body was flush against his, and as warm as ever. He wondered to himself if he was making you cold. If he was, you didn't seem to mind.

After a long period of savoring the silence between you and him, you softly snorted out a cute, soft giggle. This made Muzan angle his chin downward to look at the top of your head.

"What is it?" He questioned.

You giggled again, tilting your head up to look at him. Smiling, you turned your body to lay on top of the demon king, your breasts smushing against his own. Instinctively, Muzan laid his hands on your hips, rubbing small circles into them as he held you in place.

"I just find it funny that even though you profess to have so much stamina, you get tired after only two rounds." You explained to him, a playful mischievousness in your tone and eyes.

Muzan breathed out a smile, reaching up a clawed hand to brush your hair out of your face.

"As I recall it, you were the one complaining it was too much." He quipped back.

You snorted, "As if that ever stopped you before."

The demon let out a soft chuckle, leaning forward to give you a kiss on the forehead. Muzan couldn't remember ever laughing so genuinely before you came along. You truly were the light of his life. You filled his days with the sunlight he had long since forgotten, as well with the warmth no other demon could ever have.

He loved you.

He loved you he loved you he loved you.

And he still did.

He watched as you dropped your gaze to his chest, running your fingers along the flesh.

"Muzan..." you said, your voice more serious than before, "I've been thinking a lot lately..."

The demon king hummed, brushing more hair from your face.

"What has been on your mind, my love?" He asked.

You paused for a second before continuing on. Muzan could practically see the gears turning in your head.

"Well, I... I'm not getting any younger, you know, and I've been thinking. I... I really love you, Muzan. You're the only person I can imagine myself being with for the rest of my life. The other day, I was in town, and I saw the cutest family ever with a husband and a wife and two adorable little children, and it made me think..."

You looked up at him again, giving him a soft smile.

"What if we were to have a family of our own?"

Muzan could feel the same sense of joy, love, and pride in his chest as he did this same moment all those years ago. In this moment, he had never felt closer to you before, nor could you recall ever looking more beautiful.

He wanted nothing more than to be a family with you for the rest of eternity.

"Darling, you know what that would mean, correct?" He questioned you. He had told you long before that demons could only have offspring with other demons, for a demon baby would eat its human mother from the inside and kill her. It was gruesome, and had originally made you cringe at the thought. Muzan had thought your reaction was quite cute.

"Yes, yes, I know," you answered, "and I'd be ready for it. Even if I'm a demon, and even if I can never go out in the sun again or live normally ever again, I'd be happy knowing I got to be with you and our baby for the rest of time."

Muzan gave you a smile in return, his long, white fangs flashing in the light of the night. Leaning forward, he kissed you upon your soft, warms lips, gently pulling you closer to him.

This was one of the thousands of reasons why he loved you.

You were always so sweet, so kind and optimistic. He would admit, he did have a soft spot for you and you alone. But he didn't care. You were worth it. You were worth every single piece of money on planet earth. You were worth the sun the moon and the stars, and all the planets here and beyond. You were worth any injury, any heartache, and any trial or tribulation in the world.

The king of the demons unquestionably, unfathomably, undeniably, adored you.

Pulling gently away from the kiss, Muzan looked deep into your eyes, right past your pupils and looked right into your soul, your very being.

"I would want nothing more, my sunlight."

If Muzan could turn back the hands of time, he would have kept you here with him for the rest of everything and beyond.

For he did not know then that was the last kiss you and him would share.

Another flash, and Muzan was no longer greeted with a visage of the past. Much to his dismay, the demon was now greeted with the sight of his office, with a smiling Enmu creepily watching him from across his desk.

What a fucking freakshow.

Taking in a breath of air through his nose, Muzan sat up tall in his chair again, rubbing the bridge of his nose with this thumb and pointer finger.

You were gone again. You were again nothing up a memory, a whisper of a time from the past.

Muzan could hardly bare it.

He had felt you, held you near him.

And just as fast as you came back, you were gone again.

This was a pain almost too hard to bear.

How long was he asleep for? Muzan really didn't care how long it was.

No amount of time with you was enough.

"Did you have the pleasant dream you wished for, Master?" Enmu asked the demon king. The lesser moon was lucky Muzan was in a somewhat good mood that day.

"Yes." Muzan replied simply, closing his eyes to rub them with his thumb, "Excellent work."

Enmu's smile widened at this, his cheeks turning pink again.

"Why, thank you, Master." He responded, his excitement prevalent in his voice.

Enmu really was a special one.

After composing himself again, Muzan scooted his chair forward up to his desk, fixing his gaze back onto his work sprawled out below.

Muzan just wanted to be alone again after that. He had been alone for years now, but he wanted Enmu out of the room. Although he could have easily ordered it to be so, he again did not want to show any weakness to the lower moon.

Christ on a bike. Muzan was so fucking stubborn.

He remembered all the times you nagged him for it.

Oh, what he would give to have you nag him one last time.

After a long bout of silence, the lesser demon decided to speak up again. He turned his head over his shoulder again to Muzan, trying to sound as naieve and innocent as possible.

"Master," Enmu said, "Where is she now?"

Muzan stopped his movements and glared up at Enmu with a venomous glare. How dare he even refer to you. You were so far above him, how dare Enmu even think to invoke your name.

Though Muzan wanted to kill the other demon right on the spot, he decided against it. He still wanted to see how Enmu would do on his mission. Also, Muzan had to admit that he did feel lighter and more generous after his dream with you. And he supposed it was fair that Enmu had his questions.

Feeling nice, Muzan decided to entertain Enmu's question.

Shifting his gaze back to the papers below, Muzan replied.

"Gone." he said, "The night she asked about a family was the last night I saw her alive. The next day, a group of slayers found her and our house. They knew who she was and that she was human, but killed her anyway. All in attempt to get to me. I found her in a pool of her own blood, limp and cold. The slayers died that same night."

Enmu's smile faded at this, his face taking on a look of shock. Closing his lips into a tight line, Enmu looked away, out of a quiet unconscious respect. Everything made so much more sense to Enmu now. Why the demon king was the way he was, his hatred for slayers, his cold-hearted, murderous nature.

It all clicked into place.

"I... I am sorry for your loss, Master." He said, his voice quieter than normal, "She seemed like a lovely woman."

Muzan peered up at the back of Enmu's head. Through his thick, black lashes.

"Yes..." Muzan said.

"She truly was."

#demon slayer #kny fanfic #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #kimestsu no yaiba #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x reader #muzan kibutsuji #muzan kibutsuji x reader

479 notes · View notes

jungshookz · 3 years

Note

omg cee for a holiday drabble request can we get some shy!jungkook who’s had yn in his class all semester and is partnered up with her for a final project and he’s like !!!!!!!! AAAA!!!!!!!!!

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre; sfw!! university!au!! fluff!! jungkook is shy!! y/n is friendly!! pocky sticks and goldfish crackers are exchanged!!

➺ wordcount; 4.9k

➺ what to expect; if he thought the back of your head was pretty... did that mean that he thought the rest of you was pretty as well?

»»————-　❅　————-««

jungkook doesn’t like to say that he hates people because saying that makes him sound obnoxious and a little overdramatic, but if given the choice, he would 100% choose to be alone

and he doesn’t think that it’s a problem that he prefers his own company over the company of other people

it’s literally just a personal preference!

he likes to keep to himself mainly because he.,.,

well

to be honest, he just doesn’t like talking to people?? which he thinks is a pretty valid reason to roam campus as a lone wolf

it just takes so much effort maintaining a conversation and at the end of the day, he’s just here to learn and get his degree, you know?

and it’s not like he flat-out refuses to talk to people like a weirdo

he can talk to people, he just chooses not to initiate or engage in any type of conversation whatsoever unless he really has to

and don’t even get him started on those damn ice breakers that professors make everyone do at the beginning of every semester

it’s why he always sits in the very back of the auditorium where all the quiet people are

because quiet people understand each other and quiet people will nevER turn to start talking to each other when the professor tells the class to share two truths and a lie about yourself to the person sitting next to you!

there’s just a mutual understanding that everyone in the back of the room will sit in silence and keep to themselves all semester long which is very pleasant

not to mention, he hates having to deal with ‘semester friends’ aka the one friend that you make for the sake and convenience of having someone you know in the same class as you

you guys really don’t have that much in common and you can tell that they’re in a completely different social circle than you are (aka when you inevitably do a social media handle exchange you see that they have more than a thousand followers and you can immediately tell they were super popular in high school which intimidates you and your puny 250 follower count but you can’t back out of this friendship now without looking like a jerk) but the person is friendly enough that you can get along and kind of keep a conversation going

and then once the semester ends the two of you promise to keep in touch next semester even though both parties are fully intending to not stay in touch at all

and then when next semester rolls around no one makes any effort to reach out and be like hey, should we get coffee this week?? because you have conflicting schedules that would take so much reshuffling just to accommodate this acquaintance that you really don’t care that much about so then you end up hitting them with an ooh, i can’t make it this week! what about next week??

and then it just turns into a cycle of ugh, i’m swamped this week! next week? and can’t, sorry! next week?

and then you’ll see each other at the library one day and it’ll be a little bit awkward because you’ll do that awkward half-hug and your voice will go up like ten octaves when you greet them with that overly polite heyyyyyy!

and more promises will be made to get coffee and hang out soon even though everyone knows absolutely no coffee will be gotten

the point is: in the four years that jungkook’s been a university student, not onCe has he made a steady friend and not once has he been remotely interested in making a steady friend

and he doesn’t think that’s sad or anything - again, he prefers it that way!

...but you just had to come along and completely throw his plans out of whack, didn’t you??

unsurprisingly, you were the one who spoke to him at the beginning of the semester but he didn’t think too much of it because it wasn’t like the conversation the two of you had was very riveting

“hi, i’m sorry-” jungkook looks up from his notebook when you twist around in your seat to face him, “this is psychology 400, right? i lost a copy of my schedule and i think this is the lecture hall i’m supposed to be in but i can’t remember if it said auditorium 200 or 201-”

“yeah, you’re in the right place.” jungkook interrupts, offering you a stiff smile before looking back down at his planner

he was in the middle of compiling a grocery list for himself and now he doesn’t remember what that one thing he needed was…

…

ah!

chocolate pocky sticks

there we go

jungkook clicks his pen before tucking it back into his pencil case and shutting his planner

and… yeah!

that was the first conversation the two of you ever had

he doesn’t think he can really count it as a conversation because it lasted less than three seconds

the first exchange the two of you ever had?

the second exchange he had with you was actually the next class that same week

he was genuinely surprised that you sat in the same spot again because usually when someone realises that he isn’t willing to be their semester-friend, they move to another section of the auditorium the next time

but no

there you were in all your glory

“when’s the first assignment due?”

jungkook’s eyes flicker up from his laptop first before he looks up at you

“uh, in two weeks...?” he trails off, pulling up the calendar app on his screen before nodding affirmatively, “yeah, in two weeks. september sixteenth at midnight.”

“okay, sweet! and that’s a... thursday?”

“wednesday.”

“ah, okay. got it. thanks!

“mhm.”

the weird thing was the fact that you never pulled out the “i don’t think i ever got your name! i’m ___” card because you just seemed like a very ‘i wanna be your friend!!!!!’ person

and he doesn’t know how you made him do it but one day he found himself asking for your name which he didn’t think he’d ever do

(admittedly, he was a little klutzy in doing so because he’d never willingly introduced himself to someone and asked for their name all in one go before)

“are you eating goldfish crackers and... chocolate chips?” jungkook blurts out, leaning forward a little to peer into the little snack box you’re holding in your hand

you pause and look down into the container before twisting around to look at him, “mhm! you know, you wouldn’t think the combination would work, but it totally does,” you smile, holding your box up, “wanna try?”

jungkook immediately shakes his head, “oh, no, that’s oka-”

“no, c’mon-” you pluck out a cracker and a chocolate chip and set your box down on your lap, “hold your hand out!”

jungkook hesitates for a second before holding his hand out and letting you plop the treats in his palm, “and you... eat them together?”

“uh-huh!” you nod, popping a cracker into your mouth before gesturing for him to eat, “don’t worry - if you don’t like it, i promise i won’t cry.”

jungkook brings his palm up and tosses them back into his mouth

...

huh

that’s actually... not half-bad?

“see? what’d i tell you?” you beam, giving your box a little shake, “good, right?”

“yeah, i mean, i would never think to put the two together...” jungkook trails off, dusting the crumbs off his hands, “oh, um, by the way-” he clears his throat before swallowing nervously, “i, uh, i’m jungkook. by the way. yeah.”

“jungkook?” you say out loud, jungkook nodding in confirmation, “i will try to remember that. i’m pretty bad with names, so if i end up calling you, like, robert next week, don’t hate me.”

“i will try not to hold it against you if you call me robert next week,” jungkook laughs lightly before reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, “and you... um, your name is...?”

“i’m y/n! by the way.” you tease lightly, the apples of jungkook’s cheeks turning a little pink, “it’s nice to meet you! ...even though we met, like, a month ago.”

“touché.”

“jungkook, you dog-” you gasp lightly, and for a second jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach because he thinks he’s said something wrong- “at least take me out to dinner first before touchéing me.”

jungkook immediately snorts and shakes his head lightly as you giggle to yourself

with that being said, even after that exchange he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to stay friends with you or not

yeah, you were nice and kind of charming in your own way, but...

(he couldn’t come up with a reason as to why he shouldn’t be friends with you, so that train of thought is still chug-chug-chugging along.)

»»————-　❅　————-««

“are those pocky sticks?”

jungkook stops typing, his eyes flickering up from his screen to see you looking at him with a soft little smile, your arms folded over the top of your seat and your chin propped up on them

he looks down at the open package of pocky sticks sitting on top of his backpack next to him before looking over at you and nodding, “uh, yeah. do you... want one?”

“are they the chocolate ones?”

“obviously.” jungkook snorts, pulling one out of the plastic bag before holding it out for you, “nothing beats the original flavour.”

you pluck it from his fingers, inspecting it for a second before biting into it with a crisp snap!, “i personally like the strawberry ones better-”

“what??” jungkook gawks, “i mean, yeah, the strawberry ones are fine, but the chocolate ones-”

“the strawberry ones have a thicker coating! the chocolate coating is so thin and barely-there!” you hold the bottom half of your pocky out so that jungkook can look at the cross-section of it, “see?? barely any chocolate-”

“you don’t know what you’re talking about!” jungkook scoffs playfully, slapping his laptop shut before crossing his arms on his desk and leaning forward, “chocolate pocky sticks are clearly superior to the strawberry ones-”

“alright, robert, whatever helps you sleep at night-”

“wha-” jungkook gawks in mock offence, too distracted by the fact that you like the strawberry pocky sticks over the classic chocolate ones to notice the feeling of his heart skipping a beat at the sound of your laugh

strawberry over chocolate

...

ridiculous!

»»————-　❅　————-««

now, jungkook isn’t particularly sure when it was that he started to notice how twinkly your eyes were or how sweet your voice sounded or how pretty your smile was or how nice your hair smelled

it kind of just dawned on him one morning??

he was just staring at the back of your head and found himself wondering how it was possible for the back of one’s head to be so pretty (you had your hair down that day and it just looked so soft and clean)

and then he thought to himself how weird it was that he just called the back of your head pretty

and then he thought to himself that if he thought the back of your head was pretty... did that mean that he thought the rest of you was pretty as well?

and then he thought to himself that yes, i suppose i would consider y/n to be pretty if i was ever asked for a list of people i considered to be pretty

and then he realized that oh, god. do i think that y/n’s pretty because i like y/n?!

and now it’s december meaning that it’s almost the end of the semester and he still hasn’t done anything about his crush on you because he?? literally has no idea how to handle it

his plan was to just ask you for your instagram and if you wanted to keep hanging out next semester and hope that it didn’t turn into a can’t what about next week can’t what about next week situation

and the fact that you guys are working together for the final project certainly doesn’t help with him suppressing his feelings at all

because you two have gone from spending time like three times a week in class to five or six times a week in and out of class

it was at the beginning of november that he discovered that you both had an hour and a half break after this class

so you guys usually go for lunch together (obviously, you were the one who asked first) and then go your separate ways

and then it was the second week of november that jungkook started walking you to your next class even though hiS next class is located at the opposite end of campus

he just????

literally has no idea how any of this happened

one minute he’s perfectly fine with being alone and the next minute he finds himself glancing towards the door every three seconds waiting for you to walk in because the best part of his morning is seeing you

because every time you walk in and see him in his usual spot your entire face lights up and your pace quickens and he just thinks it’s really cute how excited you are to see him even though you guys literally see each other so often

he always looks forward to hearing about what you did over the weekend even though he usually doesn’t care less about what anyone did over their weekend

he always looks forward to you bringing out your little snack box and offering him a couple pieces of whatever you have (you brought these sesame-glazed cashews the other day and they were really good)

he always looks forward to sharing his pocky sticks with you even though he’s usually very greedy with his pocky sticks

last week he let you eat like half the box and he wasn’t even mad

and yeah, he finds himself tossing a couple of the strawberry pocky sticks into his basket whenever he goes grocery shopping, but that doesn’t mean anything!

...

right???

»»————-　❅　————-««

jungkook glances back towards the door as he taps his foot against the ground anxiously before checking his phone for the time or any texts from you

where are you??

he booked one of the conference rooms in the library so that you guys could work on your project in peace

it’s much more quiet working here than in the general studying area because there’s always that one person who’s sniffling and coughing like a maniac

and you can speak at a normal volume in here which is good

you guys agreed to work on the project together at the end of the day and then you’d grab dinner together

and jungkook hasn’t been classifying these hangout working sessions as dates or anything but for some reason, this feels like a study date AND a dinner date rolled into one which is why his hands are so clammy right now

and on top of thAT he actually has a christmas present that he’s planning to give you but now he’s wondering if it’s too late to back out

you’re already like twenty minutes late

did you forget about him??

did you purposely bail on him??

is this your way of telling him that this friendship is over???

maybe he can text you and tell you that he had to go home because he has food poisoning or something

...but the image of him hunched over the toilet probably isn’t a very attractive one

is there like a.,., like a sexy way to talk about food poisoning?

jungkook paces back and forth as he looks down at his phone, typing a message to you and then immediately deleting it and retyping

hey! i’m gonna have to reschedule. i had a funky ass burrito for lu-

okay so there’s definitely no way to make food poisoning sound sexy

maybe he can come up with a... cool excuse of some kind?

hey! can we reschedule? i have to save a baby from a burning building because i’m also a firefigh-

nope

he’s terrified of heights and also he hates babies so that excuse would never work

hey! let’s reschedule! i have feelings for you and it’s overwhelming me and also i feel like maybe you kind of bailed on m-

“hey!”

jungkook jumps in his seat before whipping around to look at the door, feeling a sense of relief washing over him when he sees that it’s you

okay

well noW he knows that you didn’t forget about him and that you definitely didn’t bail on him

“he-” his voice gives out halfway and he clears his throat quickly, “hey! i was, uh, i was wondering when you’d show up.”

“i know, sorry i’m late-” you smile sheepishly, shutting the door behind you with a gentle click, “it’s for a good reason, though! i got us hot chocolates!”

you raise the takeout tray in your hand before setting it down on the table, “i was going to get you a peppermint mocha because ‘tis the season and all of that, but i didn’t know if you would like it or not so hot chocolate was the safer option.”

“i like hot chocolate!” jungkook coughs, “peppermint mochas- i mean, i would’ve been fine with a peppermint mocha too, but i- i still appreciate the hot chocolate-” he rambles, nervously flipping his pen back and forth in between his fingers, “i mean, i, like, what i’m trying to say is that i would like anything you brought for me, you know?”

okay

he’s spiralling

whY is this happening to him??

jungkook doesn’t know if he’s ever been this nervous for anything before

he wasn’t even this nervous when he had to do a solo presentation in front of two hundred people in his history course last semester and thaT was terrifying

“alright, well, i’ll definitely keep that in mind for next time!” you chirp, pulling out one of the wheely chairs before plopping down and turning to face him, “what else do we have to do for our report?”

jungkook feels his heart skip a beat when your knee bumps against his

oh god

okay

he has to get it together

just relax!

“oh, uh-” he turns to look through the checklist on his notebook, “we have to write up the conclusion... and also the annotated bibliography.”

“annotated bibliography?” you huff, scrolling through yours guys’ twenty page report, “oh, god... that’s going to take forever- we used, like, thirty different sources...”

“i told you not to go crazy with the scholarly articles...” jungkook teases lightly before taking a sip of his hot chocolate

ooH

there’s whipped cream on this as well!

“i just thought that it would make us look smarter if we used more sources-” you grumble, pushing your bottom lip out in a pathetic little pout, “and now we have to go through and annotate every single one...”

“hey, if it motivates you to work faster, i’ll get you an extra order of onion rings for dinner tonight.” jungkook hums, smiling fondly when you gasp excitedly and turn to face him

one thing that he’s learned about you is the fact that you are verY food motivated

one time you told him that you would be willing to rob a bank for a pack of oreos

...and he wholeheartedly believes that.

»»————-　❅　————-««

you try your hardest to hold back a grin when you notice that jungkook still hasn’t moved his leg from yours

the side of your thigh has been pressed right up against his for a good twenty minutes now and it seems like he doesn’t mind it at all

if anything, it’s safe to say that he’s comfortable being this close to you

that must mean that he likes you back, right?

because you know for a fact that he isn’t normally a touchy-feely person and you were fully expecting him to pull back the moment your leg touched his

this is!!!!

exciting!!!!

you don’t know when you started liking jungkook but the details really aren’t that important

you just know that you like him now and you’re like 80% sure that maybe he might?? like you back??

if he didn’t like you, why would he be willing to get coffee with you during your breaks and walk you to class?

you were actually a little put off by him the first time you spoke to him mainly because he seemed like he didn’t really want to talk to you

and usually you don’t do well with people who don’t want to talk to you because.,., you personally think you’re a greaT person to talk to and if the same vibes aren’t reciprocated then you immediately hightail it out of there

and you were actually going to switch seats the next class but it was pretty cozy in the back of the auditorium and you liked that your seat was near the exit so that you could be the first one out without getting trampled over by everyone else

so you figured you’d just swallow your pride and try to work it out with mr. pretty boy (yes, part of the reason as to why you stayed was because of how handsome he is.,., you’re only human!!!)

and it looks like it worked out in your favour because here you are!! hanging out with him outside of class!!

with that being said, you haven’t really thought about what your next move is going to be because you’re..., not entirely sure how to ask him out without potentially freaking him out or something

because if on the off-chance that he tells you that he actually doesn’t like you back after you ask him out with full confidence,,..,

ugh

you don’t even want to think about how awkward that’s going to be

and you don’t even knoW how you’d play it off casually without letting your disappointment show (“oh! well, that’s- pft- that’s totally fine, it’s whatever- like, i’m so... like, i’m so cool. it’s totally fine! dates are- dates are so overrated, anyway- romance is so lame-”)

you were thinking of maybe asking him out after the final project because if he says no then you’ll never have to see him again!

that’s the beautiful part of being on such a big campus

it’s fine

you’ll figure something out

just focus on this damn bibliography and try not to think about how good jungkook smells and how pretty his hands look when he’s typing

»»————-　❅　————-««

it’s about an hour and a half into the session that jungkook suddenly remembers that he has a present for you

he turns his head slightly to look at you

there’s a divot in between your brows as your fingers practically fly across your keyboard

wow

you must really want those onion rings

jungkook glances down at his backpack before pressing his lips together tightly

when would be a good time to give it to you without it being like.,,. awkward?

maybe after you guys are done?

or during dinner?

or after dinner?

or after he drives you hom-

“i have a present for you, by the way-!” jungkook blurts out a little louder than intended, shattering the serene silence of the atmosphere

okay never mind

“you do??” you ask, jungkook nodding quickly

“i... yeah. a christmas present! for you.” he clears his throat, leaning down to pull the neatly wrapped package out of his backpack, “it’s just a little something, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

“aw, that’s so nice of you... i didn’t know we were doing presents otherwise i totally would’ve gotten something for you...” you trail off, pursing your lips in disappointment

damnit

you weRE going to get jungkook something but you didn’t know if he’d find it weird or anything

and now you must look like a complete jerk!

“oh my god, don’t even worry about it-” jungkook flicks his wrist to dismiss your concerns, “you can count the hot chocolate as your gift to me! plus, you splurged on a venti just for me-”

“i did splurge on a venti just for you...” you joke along, instantly feeling a little better about the situation, “and i usually only treat people to tiny little talls!”

(for the record, you’re definitely going to get him a proper present over the weekend)

“also, it’s totally fine if you don’t like it-” jungkook swallows thickly when you start to rip open the packaging, “i can return it and get you something else-”

!!!!!!!!

“oH MY GOD i love it!” you exclaim, feeling your serotonin levels shoot straight through the ceiling when you pull out a heart shaped snack box, “i don’t even know what to say, this is literally the greatest present i’ve ever received in my entire life-”

“oh, thank god-” jungkook flops back in his seat before placing his hand on his chest, “i was worried that maybe you wouldn’t like it because you already have a pretty extensive collection of snack boxes- oh, and!” he perks up, spinning around to pull something else out of his bag, “i also got you a box of strawberry pocky sticks even though i still think your opinion about them being better than the chocolate flavour is very wrong.”

wow

he really knows the way to your heart :’)

“i don’t even know what to say, kook...” you smile, “thank you so much...”

jungkook beams, giving himself a mental pat on the back for a job well done, “ah, don’t worry about it. i’m just glad that you like your gifts...”

...

okay, you don’t have a gift for him so this is the next best thing

“can i-” you pause, trying to think of how to handle this, “can i- sorry, can you just close your eyes for a second?” you clear your throat

you’re suddenly feeling a lot more confident about jungkook’s feelings towards you than you were half an hour ago

(aka you are now 98% sure that he likes you back and if you’re wrong about this assumption then you’re definitely going to regret the thing that you’re about to do)

“close my eyes?” jungkook snorts, “why?”

“it’ll make sense in a second. just close them!”

“this is the part of our friendship where you kill me, isn’t it?” he jokes, setting his laptop aside before turning his chair so he can fully face you

ha hA

very funny

“if i was planning to kill you, i would’ve poisoned your precious pocky sticks a long time ago-” you laugh lightly, wiping your clammy hands on your jeans before turning to face him as well

“speaking of pocky sticks, have you ever tried the cookies and creme flavoured ones?” jungkook hums, jolting in surprise when he feels you place your hands on his knees, “because i was thinking we could just buy a bunch of flavours and try them toge-”

smak!

jungkook’s eyes immediately pop open the moment he feels you kiss his cheek, his entire face going beet red and his mouth going dry

you smile innocently as you pull back, jungkook trying his best to noT melt into a giant puddle of goo

you-

you just...

you kissed his cheek?

you kissed him?

maybe it was an accident??

maybe there was a bug on his cheek and you were just trying to kill it with your mouth

“you- i- heh-” he reaches up to scratch the back of his head, quickly averting his gaze when he notices you looking directly at him, “um, why... uh, what did you do that for?”

“to say thank you...” you shrug, biting back a smile, “and i guess it’s me trying to tell you that i... i like you too, by the way.”

jungkook feels his heart stop beating in his chest and his fingers dig into his thigh

too?

you like him?

too????

jungkook blinks owlishly at you, “you like me... too? r-really?”

“of course i do.” you hum, admiring your brand new snack box before looking back at him, “how could i not?”

(judging by his reaction, you are now 100% sure that jungkook likes you back so you now have nothing to worry about.)

“but how’d you know that i even liked you in the first place?” jungkook asks dumbly, still a little dazed from that kiss on the cheek

he can’t even think about how his body is going to react when he eventually gets to kiss you properly

“i mean...” you let out a little laugh before tilting your head slightly, “if the in-between class coffee runs and the walking me to class even though we both know it’d make you late for your class didn’t give it away, the fact that you let me eat half a box of pocky sticks without slicing my hands off certainly did.”

yeah

that’s fair

“you make a good point.” jungkook nods slowly, “touché-”

“-”

“-!” jungkook holds a finger out before the corners of his mouth tug up in a wide grin, “and i will definitely be taking you out to dinner first before even thinking about touchéing you. don’t worry.”

christmas with cee 2020 masterlist

🎁what would you like from ceenta this year? 🎁

948 notes · View notes

chubmins · 3 years

Text

candy bear, sweetie pie (i wanna be adored)

cw: feederism, belly kink, weight gain, burping, brief mention of body image regarding jimin’s family, streamer!jimin.

“hello there... it’s manggae.”

jimin’s voice was low, almost a whisper, as he laid back on one of his hands and appraised the rapidly growing influx of messages on his live’s chat. they weren’t quick enough that jimin would lose track, but nowadays he would have to scroll back up to catch something he missed a few times. his audience had been growing.

“you missed me? cute. it’s only been a week.” his full lips stretched in a smile his viewers would be able to see and fawn over. jimin always positioned himself carefully, camera catching him perfectly from the lips down — not because he didn’t want the audience to see his face, they had seen him a handful of times now, but because he wanted his body to be the main focus.

and his body explained why his nickname on the streaming website was manggaetteok.

jimin had always liked to eat. growing up in an extremely rich family, food had never been an issue — until it started being taken away from him by parents and nutritionists who believed his chubby cheeks were something to be ashamed of. jimin spent his teenage years on diets, pills and stinky gym bathrooms. he almost started hating his body as much as his parents did.

until he moved out. was moved out, to be more precise — an apartment bought for him in the heart of gangnam, too big for just one person, way under-decorated to look like a homel. jimin was twenty and out of his parents' claws for the first time in his life.

it didn’t take him more than a year to figure out the most crucial things about himself: he prefered boys over girls, silk robes and lace over black pressed suits, and he very much prefered to stay home and order food to going out to a new bar every friday night.

jimin turned into the perfect definition of a homebody; and, soon enough, of a foodie.

he didn’t hold back when it came to food, and the results of his indulgence after years of restriction showed on his body rather quickly. at least his parents were right about one thing — he really was prone to gaining weight, and a lot of it.

sitting now on the floor of one of the three bedroom’s in his apartment, the one he had slowly decorated to be his streaming studio, jimin weight gain is nothing if not noticeable. nicely placed down on his fluffy baby pink carpet with thighs spread as wide as they would go, his belly hanged almost touching the floor. it looks so soft and pudgy now, bulging forward in an almost perfect round dome even when it’s empty. he has pink stretch marks from the top of his jiggly thighs to right under his belly button, which has gotten deep enough for jimin to fit and poke his entire pinky finger inside. his flabby tits rest nicely on top of his swollen gut, round puffy nipples a pretty light brown on display.

“remember when i’d dress up all cute and pretty for these lives?” jimin practically purred at the camera, both hands heading to his breasts so he could squeeze and jiggle them while chuckling. “my bras don’t fit me anymore… i need to buy new ones.”

as if on cue, the silent notification bar that signaled new donations started popping up repeatedly, each time with a different amount of the website’s currency he’d get to convert to real money later. jimin chuckled again, he knew how to play this game too well. he had indeed grown out of most of his fancy silk and lace lingerie, but he also didn’t want to repeat the same ones he’d still fit into. that being said, he had decided on his fit for today as being a pair of baby blue silk shorts that barely covered his ass when he stood up, and a matching silk choker with a small emerald pendant.

“well, well, look at that! seems like i’ll have some new lingerie to show you guys soon.” His hands moved away from his body before he could get too excited, and moved towards the tray he had off camera.

with a little bit of maneuvering, he pulled the traw towards himself until it was in between his massive thighs and the camera, positioned just so that his body wouldn’t be too covered up and his belly would still be on display.

“as you can see” jimin praticaly purred, “i followed your requests and got a full american breakfast. there are pancakes,” he pointed at each and every item as he spoke, mouth watering just thinking about how he was finally going to eat “eggs, sausages, muffins, bagels and a berry smoothie.”

that was probably enough food to feed a family of four — the chat flooded with excited messages of how they couldn’t wait to see jimin eating it all. at first his viewers’ excitement would startle jimin a bit, but now? now he lived for it.

after all, he’d always get as excited as them.

“should i start with the pancakes? they’re still warm.” he asked, reading all the messages he could, all of which were encouraging him to start eating.

jimin reached for the pancakes. there were six of them in total, fluffy and golden brown with melted butter running down on all sides. jimin’s fork was quick to make work through the first three layers as he balanced the plate on top of his belly, and once the big bite was inside his lips he moaned unashamedly.

“fuck… so good.” he barely finished chewing before he pushed more inside his mouth, closing his eyes in bliss. “i could eat this everyday. imagine how much bigger i’d get.”

his viewers got off on that, as he came to learn very quickly after starting to stream himself eating. jimin’s primary goal certainly wasn’t to gain weight, but it did keep the cash coming and he didn’t mind the plushness one bit. just a small price to pay for all the food he shoved inside himself, and he did look hot with all the extra pounds. jimin continued to shove the pancakes inside his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing, moaning almost obscenely throughout the whole process. it didn’t take more than five minutes for him to polish the whole stack.

“kinda wish i had ordered more” he pouted, putting the plate away and lightly slapping his still very empty gut. the donations started popping up again, messages telling him to order more right at that instant, to order ten times more next week. “don’t worry everyone, i still have a lot more to eat!”

jimin reached for the bagels next — there were 9 of them in a box alongside 4 muffins of various flavours, and jimin had started alternating between them while answering some of his viewers questions.

“last time i went on a date? that was a couple months ago, actually” he answered between bites of a blueberry muffin. “made him take me to an all you can eat buffet, ate like a pig. had to unzip my pants for dessert and all...” jimin licked his fingers clean, making a little show out of it before reaching for the last bagel and all but eating half of it in one big bite before continuing in a lighthearted tone, cheeks full. “probably freaked him out, he never called again.”

the story was only partially true — taehyung had taken him to an all you can eat buffet for their first date, but he also had called again. they were dating, in fact, but had made an arrangement to keep it from jimin’s subscribers. as much as jimin didn’t mind showing his body and face online for thousands to see, his private life remained private, and he was a firm believer that nobody needed to know his real name, the city he lived in or his relationship status.

“i need something savory, now. those muffins were really sweet.” jimin sighed, taking a big sip from his berry smoothie. one of his chubby hands played with his belly, caressing around the belly button before lifting the fat mass and letting it fall, sighing at the way it jiggled back into place. the movement dislodged a gas bubble, and he could hear the gurgling noise coming up his throat and feel the pressure on his chest right before letting out a loud belch.

“oh, yeah… that felt good.” another burp made its way out right then, shorter and deeper than the first one. jimin bit his lip and smiled, playing coy. “excuse me!”

he reached for the eggs, three full plates with enough spicy sauce on top that it dripped down Jimin’s chin at his first bite. he didn’t clean it at first, too preoccupied with stuffing his face until he could barely chew with his mouth closed. jimin still had a few steps to take before he felt actually full, but his stomach definitely felt a little bit harder at the top, now. he ate the first two plates mostly in silence aside from the casual moans and loud slurps from the berry smoothie, lips feeling tingly and swollen from the spice.

“you guys remember last time i ate this spicy sauce, right?” jimin smiled, going for the third and last plate. “that day with the ten hamburguers. i downed almost the entire bottle with them, got so gassy afterwards. couldn’t stop burping.” the memory makes his comment session go crazy, talking about how hot it was, how he should do it again. jimin chuckles, happy his viewers don’t mind how much of a pig he can be sometimes.

he continues eating, barely stopping to breathe — there’s still two dishes to get done with, and his stomach is starting to protest about the eggs he just ate.

“hmm… tummy is talking, you guys hear that?” jimin all but shoves a finger inside his belly button, moving the digit around in a movement that could almost be considered obscene. he feels so good, exposed like this, stomach gurgling away the fullness.

the donations keep coming at a fast rate as jimin keeps eating, pace much slower than when he first started with the pancakes, lips greasy and adorned with crumbles. his hands find his belly a plethora of times, caressing the stretched out skin, pressing against the swelled up gut as he unashamedly lets out moans and sighs of pleasure. that’s how jimin, sooner rather than later, finds himself out of food to eat, only half of his smoothie left.

“so full…” he groans, leaning back to expose his full, rounded out fat belly. it gurgles audibly then, jumping out in an abrupt movement as jimin’s lips fall open and he belches again, a long and wavering deep noise that sounds both disgusting and relieving. only then he reaches off camera for a tissue box, cleaning his fingers and then his lips and double chin, laughing as he spots some muffin crumbles on his chest and wipes them away carelessly.

“that was so—” jimin is interrupted by a small burp, cheeks puffing up cutely. “so good. but i can’t help but feel like i could pack more in here.” he pats his belly kinda harshly, the slapping sound loud inside his room. “should i go for 10 pancakes next time? or maybe only have pancakes, a huge stack of them… ah, bet i could eat 20.”

the chat is, as always, extremely encouraging. the donations start coming at a surprising speed again, some messages attached about how the money is for his future grocery trip and for him to buy double of everything. jimin bathes on the attention for a little longer, answering some questions while trying to soothe his ful, oversized belly, chuckling every now and then and pointing out the gurgling noises it makes as it tries to process all the food he just ate.

he was not lying, though — it does feel like he could pack more if he tried. but that’s a thought for next time, and jimin stores it for next week’s stream as he bids goodbye and claims it’s time for him to get into his food coma and digest so he can come back even fatter.

“this has been manggae… until next time, guys!”

#i'm literally shaking i'm so flustered about posting this fic #it's been a while since i've written anything #please note english isn't my first language #am trying my best #as always idk how to tag #chubby bt5 #chubmins

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myhockeyworld87 · 3 years

Text

What Happens In Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There - Jacob Markstrom - Part 3

Word Count: 4,050

POV: Reader

Warning: Language

Notes: Well I’m finally at home for a night and I definitely owe you guys a story. So since I had the next part of this one ready, I dediced to post it. When last we saw these two, they had decided to divorce, and our reader had signed the papers and sent them back to Jacob. Who had forgotten to sign them. Let’s see what happens now, though I think some of you have an idea. As always feedback is welcome. Happy Reading!

What Happens In Vegas…Doesn’t Always Stay There Masterlist

It had been almost seven weeks since Jacob met you. For six of those, he’d talked to you every day, sometimes two and three times. It was just these last few days that you wouldn’t answer his calls or texts. Jacob was confused, to put it mildly. He wracked his brain trying to recall the last couple of conversations that you’d had, wondering if he’d said or did something to anger you, but nothing came to mind. In Jacob’s mind, he thought the two of you were actually starting something. Sure, it had been one of the most peculiar beginnings to a relationship ever, but the last several weeks' things had been nice, better than nice actually. He thought the two of you might have a chance at a real relationship. Of course, the distance between you played a part, but he thought the two of you could work that out; apparently, he was wrong.

Jacob knew the moment he stepped poolside, that you were something special. The longer he talked to you the more he knew he’d been right. If he was being honest, it was probably one of the reasons he suggested marrying you, even though that marriage would be over soon. Just like lightning striking in the middle of a storm, it hit Jacob then why you were pissed. He’d forgotten to sign the divorce papers. He’d had them for well over two weeks now. Rushing into the office, he started rifling through all the crap on his desk looking for the manila envelope that you’d mailed it to him in. He was just in the process of opening it when the front doorbell rang, so back on the desk it went, as he headed to the door to answer it.

Jacob was shocked to see you standing there. “(Y/N), what are you doing here?” He didn’t mean for that to come out the way it did. It took him a moment to recover before taking you in. There were dark circles under your eyes that made it look like you hadn’t slept in days, not to mention how puffy they looked as if you’d been crying. Jacob wanted nothing more than to take you in his arms and make whatever seemed to be causing you this much pain go away.

“Hey,” you mumbled out weakly. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” He stepped aside, letting you into his home. It was your typical bachelor pad. Walls stark and devoid of any real character that you knew Jacob possessed. He led you over to the couch in the living room, an enormous piece of furniture designed for his large frame. It almost seemed to swallow you whole. “(Y/N) is everything ok?” There was concern in his eyes and you knew he was probably questioning your presence there after you’d been radio silent the last few days.

“No.” The one-word answer was hard to push out without tears falling down your eyes. You could see how Jacob’s fingers itched to touch you and honestly that’s all you wanted right now, for him to just take you in his arms and somehow have all the answers, but he had to know the problem first. You took a deep breath trying to steel yourself for what you needed to tell him. “Jacob, I don’t know how to tell you this.” At that moment Jacob grabbed your hands and engulfed them in his giving you his support in just that simple touch. It gave you enough courage to blurt out the last part. “I’m pregnant.”

You felt his hands slip a bit on yours at the shock of the news; his mouth working trying to form a sentence yet nothing coming out. It took a minute but he finally found his words. “Wow, um…ok…I hate to ask this…”

This was the part you knew was coming, expected it really and you didn’t blame him at all. So, to spare him, you found yourself answering the unspoken question. “It’s yours.” He nodded but you felt the need to explain more. “I haven’t been with anyone since Vegas, and even before that, well, work was really busy, and…well let’s just say it had been over a month or longer.”

“You don’t have to say anymore, (Y/N). I believe you.” His hands tightened on yours, the shock of everything starting to wear off. “Plus, we didn’t use protection.” It was something you didn’t give much thought to when you were with Jacob, which was odd because you’d always been extra cautious with hookups, but then everything with Jacob was different than anyone else. “Do you…do you know what you want to do?”

This time you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. “I tried, Jacob. I really did.” He looked confused, unsure of what you meant by that. “I went to get an abortion yesterday.” He blinked hard but other than that showed no expression. “I was sitting there on the damn table in a gown just waiting for the doctor to come in and then I looked around. There was this damn chart that showed what the size of your baby is every week compared to fruit of all things. It’s a blueberry by the way. A damn cute little blueberry, like the kind they put in muffins and stuff.” Why it had to be an adorable little fruit like that you didn’t know. Why couldn’t it be honeydew? You hated that fruit. Well maybe not hate, but it wasn’t your favorite that’s for sure. “Anyhow, I was just staring at that poster and looking at each week and I don’t know. I couldn’t breathe.” Kind of like now, even telling him brought back all those feelings. “I started thinking about the doctor telling me that I could hear the heartbeat next week when she did the ultrasound, and I’m not sure what happened, but I couldn’t go through with it; so, I left. I’m so sorry.”

You weren’t quite sure if you were apologizing to him or yourself. This was something you didn’t want, at least not right now, or at least that’s what you always thought. Now, you didn’t know what you wanted anymore. You took a deep breath, composing yourself. “I booked a flight once I got home. I couldn’t tell you this over the phone or text. You deserved to hear it in person.”

“Thank you for that.”

You slipped your hands out of his, distancing yourself from him for this next part, but also pulling out the envelope you brought. “I’m going to keep the baby.” As if that part wasn’t obvious, but you somehow felt it needed to be said. “I had Aaron draw up some papers. They absolve you from any obligations to the child both financially and emotionally. All you have to do is sign them. You won’t even have to be listed on the birth certificate.” He took the envelope from your hands, glancing briefly at the contents inside. “I’m sure you’ll want to have your lawyer look it over.”

Jacob didn’t know what to think. Ten minutes ago, he was wondering if you were ever going to speak to him again and now you were telling him you were having his child. A child you apparently didn’t want him to be a part of. But did he even want a baby? He certainly hadn’t wanted a wife, yet here he was still married to you. He should come clean right now and tell you that he hadn’t signed the papers yet. That some indescribable feeling had taken over him, and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to sign them anymore. And now, well, now he felt like he shouldn’t sign them. Maybe this was all some force in the universe steering his life in a different direction; a route he hadn’t planned on taking until later, yet here he was on it. “And what if I don’t want to sign them?”

Well, that certainly wasn’t what you thought he’d say. You didn’t think this was something either of you wanted, but you couldn’t be certain. It wasn’t like the two of you had had this long talk about where you saw your life in five years. Hell, this wasn’t where you saw your life in five months, but here you were, on the verge of being divorced with a baby on the way. “Well, I guess we’ll need to figure things out then.”

Jacob got up and started to wander around the living room. You weren’t sure if he was trying to decide whether or not he wanted to sign the papers or how he was going to be part of his child’s life. “Do you want a drink or something? I need a drink. Oh shit, you can’t drink, can you?”

“It’s not advised, but please don’t let that stop you. Though if you have a water that would be great.” He headed towards the kitchen, which gave you a chance to just breathe. The hardest part was telling him, all the rest you’d figure out. He was back quicker than you expected, a bottle of water in each hand. He handed one over to you and sat back down beside you. “You know, you can think about this if you want. You don’t have to sign or not sign them right now.”

He nodded and pursued his lips before answering, though not how you expected. “How long are you here for?”

“A few days. There��s a movie being filmed not far from here. I offered to drop off some of the specs for the campaign, as long as I was here, but it also gives you some time to make a decision.”

“I already have. I want to be in our baby’s life.” You don’t know why but it felt like a thousand pounds had been lifted off your chest. It was nice to know that you weren’t in this alone. “But there’s a lot to figure out.”

“Yes, there is.”

“(Y/N), this is going to sound crazy, but I want you to move here.”

Pregnancy did weird things to the body and maybe your hearing things was one of them because you were pretty sure Jacob had just said he wanted you to move to Vancouver. “I’m sorry, you want me to move here, as in Vancouver?”

“Well, yeah but I want you to move in here, like in my house.”

He seemed dead serious and you weren’t sure how to take his suggestion or him at the moment. “But my life and my home are in LA. That’s where my job is.” Couldn’t he see that?

“I know, but moving here just makes sense. I’ll be able to help you then, not just after the baby is born but before as well. I have plenty of room in this house. There are three spare bedrooms; we can turn one into a nursery for the baby.”

How could go from finding out you were pregnant to a full out plan of attack in less than a half-hour? God, it took you a day to wrap your head around it when you found out and then another to make the decision about the abortion, and even then you still didn’t figure out you wanted to keep the baby until you were sitting in the doctor’s office. Jacob seemed to be processing everything much better than you were.

“I don’t know Jacob, just because we’re having this baby together doesn’t mean we have to live together.” Everything with Jacob was still in this weird transition phase like you went from being wildly attracted to each other, to being married, to getting a divorce, to now having a baby, and now he wanted you to live together under the same roof. You didn’t even know if the two of you would get along that great. Sure, the sex was amazing, well really better than amazing if that was even a thing, and you seemed to get along if your conversations over the last several weeks were any indication, but to live together; that could just be a whole other problem altogether.

“Look I know it’s a lot to ask and believe me if I could, I’d be willing to move to LA. It’s not like I can just ask to be traded there though. But I don’t want you to have to do this on your own.” It was awfully sweet of him to want to be there for you, and not just the baby. You’d just assumed that he’d want to see the baby on some weekends and maybe an extended time during the summer when he was off. “You don’t realize this yet, but there’s going to be a whole hockey family here for you. That’s just the way it is in this sport.” He grasped your hands then, the gesture one pleading in and of itself for you to see his side of things. “We can do this (Y/N), together.”

Together, it sounded so nice. You knew that if he had decided to sign the papers that being a single mom was going to be tough, but now knowing that he wanted to be there every step of the way eased some of the burden you felt. It was just hard to think about giving up the life you’d built for yourself in LA. You were already giving up so much as it was. “I get what you’re asking, I really do. I just…it’s a lot.” His thumb started to run back and forth across your knuckles, softly urging you to his side without him even knowing it. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course.”

“I mean we don’t have to decide everything tonight.”

“No, we don’t.” He smiled at you. The same one he gave you when you’d been in Vegas. It gave you butterflies in your stomach back then as it did now. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty good, I get a little queasy now and then; mostly when I’m hungry. I’ve learned to carry crackers with me everywhere.”

“Well, I could make you something or we could order.” The fact that he even offered scored points in your book and was definitely a check on his side of the box for moving to Vancouver, and you were kind of hungry.

“I mean, I haven’t really eaten.” He gave you a disapproving stare and you felt the need to justify why you hadn’t. “I was too nervous before.”

“Well, then let’s get you something to eat.” Jacob led you out to the kitchen, where he took out some chicken along with some vegetables to stick in the oven. The two of you worked side by side getting dinner ready. You were midway chopping up some zucchini when Jacob brought the baby back up again. “You mentioned something about the heartbeat. Were you able to hear it?”

“I have to schedule an ultrasound when I get back but they said that I should be able to.”

“Mmm.” You weren’t exactly sure what that little hum meant. Was that a good hum, or a bad one? You stayed silent waiting for him to say more. “Do you think you could record it for me?”

Why did your heart just flutter when he asked that? Was it because he wanted to hear the baby or was it because you were realizing how much he would be missing when you went back to LA? “I will,” you finally told him, but then had an even better idea. “Though you know, I’m here for four more days. Maybe we could find a doctor that would be able to do it while I’m here.”

His face lit up, like a little boy on Christmas morning. “You would do that?”

“Yeah. If we can find a doctor to squeeze us in.”

“I’ll take care of it.” He pulled out his phone, you weren’t sure if he was searching for gynecologists or texting someone, either way, it was adorable how he just jumped in at the first mention of being a part of this whole pregnancy. Again, he was showing you just how nice it would be to share this with him. Ten minutes later he had an appointment all set for you in two days.

During dinner you talked about how you had found out you were pregnant, telling him the story of how Kennedy was the one to point out your nausea wasn’t normal and that you should take a pregnancy test. She was the only one that knew you were pregnant. You swore her to secrecy, hoping that she wouldn’t spill the beans this time like she had about a certain movie star. Surprisingly, he wanted to know everything, though there wasn’t too much to tell. By the time you got the mess cleaned up from dinner, you were starting to feel the weariness of the day.

“I think I’m going to head over to the hotel. I still need to check in. Hopefully, I’ll be able to sleep better tonight, now that you finally know.”

“Stay.” The word fell out of Jacob’s mouth in almost an authoritative manner, which belied the puppy dog look on his face. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean you could stay here if you wanted. Sort of like a tryout or something.”

“You mean trial run?” Leave it to his athletic side to call it a tryout. It made you laugh.

“Yeah. We could just take the next few days and see how we do together.” It wasn’t a bad idea. “You call and cancel the hotel and I’ll go grab your bag from the car.” He was halfway to the door before you actually agreed.

As Jacob went outside, he contemplated with himself as to where he should put your things. Did he just bring your luggage to his room or should he give you one of the spare rooms? Despite the fact you were carrying his child, his body still wanted you as much, if not more, than when you were in Vegas. He just wasn’t sure where you saw things going.

You were just hanging up the phone when he walked back into the house and unbeknownst to him, you were wondering the same thing. However, your head kept telling you that if the two of you were going to make this work, you needed to keep things out of the bedroom, at least for now. Jacob must have had the same thought as you, for when he came in, he said, “Here, I’ll show you where the spare bedroom is.” The room was spacious but again, it wasn’t that homey, and occurred to you that if you decided to live here, you’d definitely need to make some changes. “Did you maybe wanna watch a movie or something, or are you tired?”

You could see he was struggling in this unchartered territory as much as you were, and while you were exhausted; you still wanted to spend time with him, to see if moving to Vancouver was even an option. “I’d love to watch a movie. Do you mind if I change first?”

“No, not at all.” He fidgeted with the back of his neck a bit, before turning to leave. “I’ll meet you back downstairs.”

You really wanted to take a hot shower and crawl into bed, but instead, you opted for just washing up quickly and slipping on a pair of pajamas you’d brought. It was still warm in LA, though the nights were a bit cooler. All you brought to sleep in were a couple pairs of shorts and some comfy t-shirts, thinking that you’d be in a hotel room by yourself. Now, you were wishing that you’d thought about it a little more and packed something a little warmer, if not more modest. Why you cared, you weren’t sure, considering this man had seen you completely naked several times.

Jacob had changed into some sweats by the time you got downstairs. He had bottles of water for you both along with a pack of crackers laying on the coffee table, and you had to admit your heart melted a little bit when you saw that. “So, what kind of movies do you like? I remember you saying no horror.”

“We don’t have to watch a movie. I know the Bruins are playing tonight and that you play them tomorrow. Why don’t you just turn the game on?” He looked surprised that you knew his schedule, but you did a deep dive finding out as much information as you could once you found out you were pregnant. He was going to be the baby's father, even if he would've decided not to be in your child's life, though now that he decided he wanted to be, the information was even more useful.

“Are you sure?” You nodded giving him the go-ahead to watch his opponents’ play. “Speaking of that, would you be interested in going to the game? I mean I know someone who could get you a ticket on short notice?” He looked so adorable when he asked you couldn’t tell him no.

“I’d love to.” You’d watched very few hockey games live, though ever since Las Vegas, you’d been following the Canucks, well, more like Jacob. It would be fun to see him in action.

“Great, I can leave you a ticket or have Erik’s fiancé come and take you. You’ll love her.”

Jacob really wanted you to jump in with both feet, didn’t he? You weren’t quite sure if you were ready to meet all his friends and teammates, but you supposed that if you moved here this would be a part of your life. “If she wouldn’t mind that would be great.”

“I’ll text him now.”

“Jacob,” you stopped him, just by saying his name. “Can we keep the baby our secret for now? I know Kennedy knows and I don’t expect you to keep it to yourself, but I don’t want to broadcast it either. At least until we know what we’re doing.”

He took your hand in his, the gesture reassuring. “Yeah (Y/N), we can do that.”

It wasn’t long before your attire got the best of you and you found yourself tucking your feet underneath you on the couch trying to keep them warm. You thought that Jacob was fully absorbed in the game, but he caught the subtle movement. “Are you cold?”

“A little.”

He scooted your closer to him, his large frame wrapping around yours. You weren’t sure if it was his body heat or him just holding you, but it was definitely warmer in seconds, though Jacob still covered you with a throw blanket that was on the couch. “Better?”

“Much.” It wasn’t long before you found yourself dozing off. The stress of the day and travel wearing on you. Your head fell softly against his shoulder and you sighed in contentment.

Jacob felt your body relax against him and he savored the feel of it. He’d honestly missed this closeness to another person in a completely non-sexual way and having you in his arms just felt right. He should’ve been paying attention to the game, scouting out his opponents but instead all he could do was watch you, even before you fell asleep. His fingers were idly stroking your bare arm under the blanket, slowly inching their way down to your wrist. He didn’t realize they’d made their way to your midsection until they were there; just lightly caressing you, scared he would wake you, but he had to touch you there. He’d been dying to all night but been afraid to ask as if it was almost an invasion of your privacy even though you were carrying his child. His child. The thought both terrified him and thrilled him. Jacob always wanted kids; knew that someday he would have them. He just didn’t think it would be this soon. He always assumed that he’d start his family after hockey was over, but here he was with a wife and child on the way. It was something he hadn’t bargained for and never saw coming. Apparently, what happened in Vegas was a lot more than he gambled on.

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#What Happens in vegas series #whivdast #jacob markstrom #jacob markstrom imagine #jacob markstrom imagines #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #hockey imagines

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

to the touch | pjm

pairing: park jimin x oc (ft. brother yoongi)

genre: mutual pining, fluff, cute crushes, brothers best friend

warnings: JIMIN that's it

words: 5, 216

summary: he's back

“You’re … you’re here?” You squeak and it’s not one of your best moments even if you were sure Yoongi would argue otherwise and that you rarely had average moments, to begin with. But there was something about spontaneity and surprise that threw you off in the worst way possible and made your brain short-circuit to the point where you’re unable to throw coherent thoughts together. And this was definitely a surprise, one that you’d never expected to happen because—

“I am,” Jimin says curtly, tossing you a firm nod of his head when he pushes you aside and steps into your apartment like he’s been year a thousand times. But in reality, it’s his first time standing at your doorstep, first time knocking on your door, and definitely the first step he’s ever had the chance to get a glimpse of how your living room looks like.

You’re still gaping at the entrance with the door open and you’re sure if any of your neighbors were to step out of their homes, they’d just see a lone girl outside that looked a little too unnerved to bother. When you snap out of it and turn your body to face your visitor, he’s already made himself comfortable on your couch and it’s hard to piece together the fact that Jimin was quite in fact in your living room, and lounging on your couch, staring at your television like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“W-What—how?” You croak because there are about ten million different thoughts running through your head but the most pressing one is how Jimin looked … different.

A good difference, for sure. He’s always been handsome and unreasonably so. Especially with the way that he’s dyed his hair back to black and the gentle fluff of how it lays atop his head. You note that he still kept his style despite him going MIA for three years and wore slacks that shaped his legs (and butt) beautifully with a casual shirt tucked into the waistband of his pants. It was unfair how effortlessly good-looking he was on a spontaneous occasion while you looked anything but, especially with your sweats and old tank top.

But Jimin had always been a little hard to read. Terrifying and brassy all at once but never obstructive—although you’d argue that his presence was the obstruction as it is of how distracted you feel whenever he was around you years ago. It’s like you never learned how to accommodate his presence because he happened to fill every space with just his body even if he wasn’t that tall.

“I thought I’d pay a visit. Your brother gave me your address.” He says, finally turning his head to face you, and its still blank like every expression you remember made towards you. You expected nothing more or nothing less than the way he stares you over and makes you feel like the outsider in your own home.

“Yoongi …” You grit, cursing your brother mentally and hoping he’d make use of that stupid sibling telepathy power he claims he has to receive your gripe.

You clear your throat as you awkwardly shuffle closer towards the couch and hover awkwardly by the arm of the sofa to keep your distance. It’s been years and it’s still a little unfamiliar to see Jimin right in front of you, and not someone you kept at the back of your mind.

“You could’ve called …” You say softly while fiddling with your thumbs. Jimin just raises an eyebrow at you and you feel stupid for saying that already.

Some things don’t change and it’s proven when your heart still beats the same when he’s around you. You cursed at yourself for being weak-willed because you thought time would help you get over your silly crush on Jimin but you also long acknowledged the fact that it wasn’t just a crush. It was more.

You hated falling for the cliches of crushing on your brother’s best friend, especially one that was just emotionally reserved and detached ninety percent of the time. The only conversations you remember having with Jimin were the ones that you were blushing at him when he looked at you a little longer than usual, or when he drove you to and from school when Yoongi left for university.

But then he disappeared, without saying goodbye and you only found out from his parents that he got into a dance program abroad and packed his things and left. Obviously, twenty-year-old you was devastated because you somehow convinced yourself that he enjoyed your presence even if he was huffing and puffing every five minutes when you’d fall into a ramble of your own.

He changed his number and he wasn’t a social media person so you had no idea what he was doing or how he was, besides the occasional mention of his name in conversations you had with your brother. It sucked. Majorly. Because you really liked him even if he was cold because you knew that Jimin was a good person. A cold and shitty person wouldn’t pat you on your head before your wisdom teeth extraction and mumble it’s okay if he wasn’t kind.

“The place is nice.” He ignores your statement and glances around your apartment and you feel smaller. You do feel a little relieved that he approved of the place, and you did spend hours browsing through catalogues and going through roommates until you decided that this was perfect. Granted, it was a little pricey but you valued comfort and a decent workplace to really get you motivated.

“Thank you.” You mumble, still shifting on the balls of your feet and Jimin just raises an eyebrow at your impersonal stance. You know he wouldn’t point it out because he wasn’t that kind of guy, but his face often spoke for him so you swallowed all the concerns you had and took a seat at the edge of the sofa, as far away from him as possible.

“Do you live alone?” He asks. You’re about to respond but he doesn’t let you.

“It’s dangerous if you do. Do you really just answer the door for anyone without checking who it is? You’ll get yourself into some serious trouble if you aren’t careful.” He chides you.

You want to scoff at him because you were an adult and you’ve learnt a few things along the road to adulthood. Jimin was always a little on edge most of the time and you knew he was just bad at expressing his emotions so you never faulted him for it. But now, you were a little older and not as naive—but unfortunately still very much into him.

“God Jimin, it’s fine—”

The door opens and both your heads immediately turn to the source, and Jimin is sharp with his movements and you try to not allow your heart to flutter when he tugs you closer to him and hides your body with his own as if he thought it was an intruder. But you knew better, so you knew it was—

“Tae. You’re back early.” You greet your roommate who only eyes the man on the couch who has you situated behind him like he was your personal shield. His bag is tugged over his shoulder and you see a few of his art supplies threatening to fall out so you hop off the couch to help him with his belongings, and Jimin’s gaze just burns harder onto the back of your skull.

When you’re close enough, Taehyung leans in and gives a brief glance over at Jimin who is still piercing him with a fierce gaze.

“Why is your booty call staring at me like I’ve murdered ten kittens?” Taehyung whisper yells and you glare at him, pinching his hip because just because he thought he was being quiet didn’t mean that he could easily get rid of his naturally loud voice.

“That is not my booty call!” You respond equally as agitated, “That’s … Jimin.”

Taehyung’s eyes bulge out of his socket when he looks over your shoulder once more to still see Jimin glaring at the two of you.

“Why is he so fucking scary? You said he was nice!” Taehyung hisses.

“He is nice!” You weakly defend, “He’s just … scary looking?”

You know it doesn’t convince Taehyung because he’s sighing and dropping his belongings to the floor, offering Jimin as sincere of a smile as he can muster even though you’re fully aware that he’s terrified of the man on your living room couch.

“Hi! I didn’t know _____ was having guests over. I’m Taehyung.” He smiles brightly at said guest but Jimin just blinks at his cordiality and then looks over to you.

“Is he your boyfriend?” The question throws you off guard and you can tell that Taehyung even more terrified when Jimin completely ignores his presence even though he was the tallest person in the room.

You splutter for a response even if the answer to that was obvious. But Jimin had a shitty way of interrogating people, even if it probably would work in legal settings because he was just terrifying enough for you to stumble over your words and make you look guiltier than you were.

“Unfortunately not.” Taehyung thinks he’s saving you when he lightly jokes with Jimin. And you want to facepalm because Jimin was aloof and impartial to everything, and had horrible skills of reading the room because you were sure that Jimin thought that Taehyung wanted to get in your pants.

“Tae, would you excuse us for a second?” You smile stiffly at Taehyung who is quick to oblige as he darts into his room.

Jimin now has his arms folded across his chest in a manner that makes him look more hostile, but you knew him well enough that you suppose he just had a lot of questions.

“Did you really have to be like that?” You ask irritably as Jimin scoffs at you.

“Please, do enlighten me. All I did was ask you a simple question, which you couldn’t even answer. What was that about?” Jimin responds equally as displeased but you had so many questions and you didn’t need to deal with his mini tantrum right now, especially between the walls of your own home.

“Don’t turn this on me! You turned up to my house unannounced after three years of no contact and you expect me to bend at your will? What do you take me for? A puppet?” You retaliate with petulancy and you can tell Jimin is slowly getting more annoyed by the second but won’t blow up just yet. Or probably because you had another person in the house.

“Am I not allowed to visit?” Jimin raises an eyebrow.

You scoff at his audacity because Jimin was seriously so bad at reading emotions. You weren’t even sure why you liked him but your heart never made reasonable decisions for you.

“We haven’t spoken in years, Jimin!” You throw your hands in the air, “I didn’t even know where you were or what you were doing because you disappeared like you were running away from a crime!”

“Did I need to update you on my whereabouts?” You know his question is genuine even though it was posed a little rough and you want to pull at your hair because obviously, you wanted to know! Jimin was the person you spent the most time with, outside of school, and one day he wasn’t anymore.

“Of course! I thought we were—I thought … why did you just disappear?” For some reason, it was hard to say that you and Jimin were friends either because the only reason why he’d ever tolerate you in the first place was that he was a good friend to Yoongi and you were just someone that came with it by association. He never outwardly said that he hated spending time with you but he never said he enjoyed it either.

Jimin raises an eyebrow and stands up, and you notice that he still towers over you. He walks towards you slowly, and you feel all the hotter under his intense scrutiny that you just want to retreat to your bedroom and forget this ever happened.

“You don’t need to know.” He says and you feel yourself deflate, “I wanted to visit because your brother’s worried about you.”

The confession just annoys you because you knew to a certain extent that Jimin wouldn’t be here from … wherever he was … if it was only for your brother. He had to give a shit somewhere deep down in him enough to make an effort to get your address from your brother, then turn up on your doorstep unannounced with his usual impassioned stare.

“Oh fuck off, will you? I’m not a little girl anymore. I can take care of myself.” You bite back.

Jimin shoots you an unimpressed stare at your snappishness and he won't lie and say that he was pleasantly surprised to see you after a long time. You were always pretty, in an unconventional way, he supposes. You never made an effort to look nice but just did with the way you approached life, even when you were younger. But now that you were standing in front of him with a bite that you didn't have when he left, he's intrigued.

"You weren't so rude before I left." He smirks at you.

His gaze also makes you burn and you avoid his eyes when it searches for yours. You hate that his tone makes you feel funny and that you wanted him to be a little mean.

"Yeah, well—that's what happens when you don't see someone after three years with no contact or notice. They change. They get a little annoyed because someone is just too emotionally constipated to ever make any effort to keep in touch." You narrow your eyes at him.

"Why are you throwing a hissy fit? Needed me to keep you company?" He prompts.

You flush but still glare at him.

"Whatever, Jimin. I just would've appreciated it if you called. Or at least have done something to let me know that you were alive." You mutter.

Somehow, he's managed to cage you in with his body against the back of the sofa, and your breath hitches when you feel his broad chest pressed on yours. You didn't realise it happened until he places his arms by your side, effectively leaving you with no room to leave. You gulp because this is the closest you've ever been to Jimin and you feel dizzy. He smells fresh like laundry and flowers. It's a huge juxtaposition to his demeanour, but he smells good and you want to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

"Why would I? You're Yoongi's sister. Not my girlfriend." He smirks.

You huff and roll your eyes. The reminder stings a little and you know he's baiting you.

"So? Were we not at least friends?" You snap.

He wants to laugh because you're obviously annoyed at the casual way he referred to you as Yoongi's little sister. You're frowning but attempting to pretend that it didn't bother you.

Jimin would be lying if he said he was never interested. Because he was, undoubtedly so. But back then when you were still navigating your way at the beginning of adulthood with Yoongi constantly breathing down his neck, he would have never done anything to compromise his friendship with your brother; or lead you on. But now you were standing in front of him, soft and sweet with a little edge to you that draws him in.

"Do you usually have crushes on your friends?" He pushes.

Your eyes widen and snap up to look at his teasing expression. His smirk is apparent against the rest of his face and you feel absolutely mortified that he's so close to you when he called you out.

"W-What? A crush? I didn't have a crush on you!" You rebuff him with a stuttery voice and you weakly try to push him away.

But he locks you in position with his hands around your wrist as he leans down and crowds you further with his presence.

"You didn't?" He feigns hurt, then he pulls away abruptly and you're immediately chasing his warmth, "Shame. I would've liked that a lot."

You gape at him when he shuffles away, putting some distance between the two of you as he dusts his hands on his slacks, giving you a curt smile; one that never reached his eyes but that was still Jimin being friendly.

"Y-You what ...?" You squeak.

Jimin shrugs and walks towards your door and you're half-terrified and half-relieved at the prospect of him leaving. But you're more terrified because you don't know if you'll ever see him again and with your current interaction you don't think you'll ever get over him.

"Usually a cute girl crushing on me would be a huge ego boost ... but you didn't, so ..." He trails off.

You bite your lips as you play with your hands. You know he's teasing you and you didn't know when he's gotten so forward, or good at this game. But you suppose Jimin has always been charming too, even if he was bad at emotions. He was good at playing them. And the way he rakes his eyes over your body only to bite his lip makes you burn in want.

He's about to turn the knob of your door but you reach out to grab his wrist before your mind can tell you it's a bad idea.

"W-What if I ... what if I ..." You mumble, hands wrapped loosely around his wrist as he turns around, leaning against the door the way boys do that was super hot for no reason.

"Speak up, bunny."

The nickname only makes you blush harder because it reminded you of all the times he's ever called you that stupid childhood nickname that somehow followed you up until adulthood. But you had to admit the way that Jimin uses it makes you feel ...warm. Like you want him to call you bunny for whatever reason he does so.

"WhatifIdid ...?" You mutter quickly and softly that Jimin leans in to get a better listen, also prompting you to speak louder.

"Couldn't hear you." He sing-songs.

You grit your teeth and swallow your pride because even after three years, you were soft and pliant for Park Jimin even if he was hot to the touch. You just wanted to please him.

"What if I did?" You say a little louder, braver, with determined eyes, "What if I did have a crush on you?"

He grins at you in Jimin fashion that was still a little reserved but warm because you knew him. You knew that was what he wanted to hear. So, he rests his body against the door and gestures his finger in a come-hither motion to get you to step closer, which you oblige. It should've been offensive that he could summon you so easily, but Jimin was a lot of things but he would never take advantage of your passiveness.

"I don't know. What would you have done if I hadn't left? Play friends? Family maybe?" He teases.

You scrunch your nose at the prospect of playing family with him because you've heard that phrase way too many times. Your parents at one point kept on saying how you had two older brothers instead of one because Jimin was always there, but they were blissfully unaware of your crush and the way you'd frown at the suggestion.

"We would've hung out more ..." You mumble.

Jimin snorts but cocks his head for you to continue.

"What's the point of this?" You huff, shutting your eyes when you can feel his gaze on you.

"You tell me. You were the one with the crush."

You want to correct him and say am the one with the crush, but you bite your tongue.

"You're the one who wants to know." You respond with indignation.

He chuckles, low and deep before he tilts your chin upwards with his index finger.

"You're still a little girl, aren't you ______?" You think it's the first time Jimin has called your name the entire time he's been here and you almost whine with the sultry look he's giving you.

Jimin applauds his self-control because you were a sight to behold. Even if you were in sweats and a tank, with your glasses drooping slightly down your nose and tangled hair, you still were so appealing even if you didn't know. You looked comfortable, homey and it did make Jimin burn with an ugly monster to know that 'Tae' could see you like this daily.

"Am not." You growl, but he only thinks you look like an angry bunny.

"You are. You don't know how to ask for things, hm?" He hums, tracing a finger up your jaw to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I so do know how to ask for things that I want. I do it all the time." You retort petulantly like you had a point to prove but Jimin only chuckles darkly.

"Then what do you want right now?"

Jimin's question is expected but it also throws you off-guard.

"R-Right n-now?" You stutter.

He tuts as if he expected your bewildered and shocked expression.

"When else but now, bunny?" He whispers as his gaze has you locked in a trance when your eyes dart to his lips when he drags his tongue over it. You're entrapped in him because his mouth suddenly looked really inviting.

"I really wanna ..." You mumble, ears flushing a pretty shade of red and you lean into Jimin's hand when he cradles your cheek gently.

Jimin was capable of being gentle, even though he chose not to. But he never was, though there was something about you that made his territorial, made him want to fight. He didn't know when he started feeling this way but he supposed it was a flurry of emotions and the accumulation of the times he's spent with you throughout the years. Three years didn't do him justice and only made him think of you more. He knew he was hard to read, and frankly even harder to understand. Jimin also knew that you were fully aware of this fact. But that didn't deter you in trying to get to know him, to prick yourself against all his edges that were harder to accept.

You were sweet and naive, a type of person that Jimin would usually scoff at. But your one-dimensional and idealistic view of the world was fresh to him, even if that meant you were living in your head most of the time. It never took away from the fact that you were kind and understanding. The type of person that cracked all of Jimin's harshness made him want to try.

But it didn't mean he wasn't going to have his fun. He liked seeing you like this, gentle and warm, close to him as you look at him with a hazy expression.

"Wanna do what?" He prods, reaching his hand to the back of your hair to tug your face closer to his, but maintaining enough distance to prompt you to make the first move.

Jimin would do it. But he wanted to be sure that you wanted this, and not the idea of him. Sure, he was giving you hints and nudging you, but he also was aware of the fact that you'd never say or do anything that you didn't want. You were always clear-cut about this type of thing.

"You know ... that ... thing ..." You mumble, shifting on your feet as he glances down to your face.

You still looked unsure, but you leaned into his hold regardless, and Jimin took that as a good sign. You just need a little push.

"You know I'm not that bright. You need to tell me, bunny." He says gently.

You can't stop the small whimper in the back of your throat at the nickname and it's taking everything in Jimin's willpower to not take you against this wall. He would, but you deserved sweet things and he wanted to try be that for you.

"I ... I wanna ..." You whisper, "Wanna ... kiss you."

You clutch his t-shirt in his hands and when you glance up he's grinning widely as if he's won the lottery.

He nods his head ever so softly, and you take that as a cue to lean in.

When you do kiss him, you already feel your knees buckling because it's like everything you dreamed and more. Jimin was the right amount of assertive and gentle that makes you chase his mouth even if you were pressed up against him. He takes the lead eventually when his hand cups your jaw to angle your mouth deeper into his, and your body flush against his.

You feel like a teenager again having your first kiss, but it may as well be because you've always wondered what it was like to share your first kiss with Jimin back in high school.

"Is that all?" He whispers against your lips, but before you can respond—

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry!" You hear Taehyung squeak and that makes you pull away from Jimin, highly embarrassed to be caught making out with him against your door like a horny teenager.

You want to curse at Taehyung but he's already ducking into the kitchen before you can get any words out.

Jimin doesn't look affected, if anything, he looks pleased. The moment you shared a clear testament of who you belonged to and Jimin loved the fact of people knowing it was him.

When you look at Jimin, you're equally parts flushed from the kiss but giddy too. You give him a shy smile, and Jimin just chuckles lowly at your bashfulness.

"I'll see you around, ______," Jimin smirks at you when he reaches for the doorknob to leave. You follow him out, wanting a little more privacy even if it was in the hallway of your apartment complex.

When Jimin steps out and with you behind him, you swing on your feet as he observes your next actions. You clear your throat, even though you were confused and glad—because that was the closest thing you could get from Jimin that was affection so you'd take it.

"So ... what does this ..." You mumble, before shaking your head.

Jimin raises an eyebrow.

"What did I say about asking for what you want?" He berates you as if he was speaking to a child, but his tone is still curt and a little detached, but very like Jimin. You know that it's him and you like that anyways.

"Don't make me say it ... it's already embarrassing as it is ..." You whine, burying your head into his t-shirt.

Jimin welcomes the sudden closeness and pats you softly on the head. It's a little stiff because he still isn't used to physical affection that wasn't 'intimate', but he did say he would try for you.

"Again: I'm not that bright." He teases.

You roll your eyes, but then bite your lips when you see he's waiting for a response.

"... what does this mean for us?" You ask softly.

Jimin smiles at you and decides to grant you a gentle kiss to your forehead. A kiss that was so domestic and soft that you feel your heart soar.

"Check your phone." Is all he says when he waves you goodbye, as you stare at him dumbly, heart still fluttering and cheeks burning.

When you return back into your home, you lean against your door as you press a hand to your chest to feel the way your heart beats rapidly against it. You feel weak in the knees but so blissful that you let out a squeal into the palm of your hands.

Once you've calmed down, and offered Taehyung a look that said you'll explain later—you rush to check your phone, only to smile at what lies on the screen.

Unknown Number [17:21]: hi bunny

Unknown Number [17:21]: save my contact

Unknown Number [17:21]: make sure that when people see it they'll know you're mine

Unknown Number [17:22]: see you soon

Unknown Number [17:22]: if you're still a little slow ... it's jimin

Unknown Number [17:25]: ❤️

You notice the heart emoji was sent a few minutes after the rest of his texts, which showed you that he may have contemplated whether or not to send it. You feel your heart flutter, as you plop back onto your bed, a wide grin splaying on your face.

extra scene

"I'm sorry ... what?" Yoongi chokes on the piece of meat he just shoved into his mouth as he stares at his best friend in the face as if he'd grown another head. But as usual, he seemed to only attract people that were vastly similar to him, and Jimin's face is unreadable as ever. But Yoongi knows he's serious and not fucking around because he's looking intently at the older boy for a response.

"So?" Jimin says casually, leaning into his seat and Yoongi needs to chug down a glass of water to ensure that the food goes down all the way before he can say anything to the question Jimin just posed him with.

"You want my sister's address ... to ... I'm sorry, correct me if I'm wrong but I had a fall and I may have a concussion so I don't know if I'm hearing things right," Yoongi deadpans but Jimin just rolls his eyes at the older one's dramatics before nodding his head for him to continue.

"You want her address to ... confess to her?" Yoongi says hesitantly and Jimin nods his head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

But it wasn't. Because as long as Yoongi's known Jimin, he's been all detached and broody, uninterested in everything and everyone. He's never shown the slightest interest in anyone and usually opted for casual hookups than actual relationships so clearly, Yoongi is a little skeptical.

"Are you okay?" Yoongi asks baffled.

Jimin nods, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yes. I went for a medical check-up that day and my doctor said he's never seen results as impeccable as mine." Jimin says blandly.

Yoongi scoffs.

"You're just not ... the dating type, you know? Much less ... with my sister?" It sounds weird to even Yoongi's ears. He grew out of his childish mindset and had no problem with Jimin dating you, but it was still weird to see his best friend showing interest in you.

"I like her. And I respect you. Which is why I came to you before I did anything."

Yoongi gapes at his best friend, who looks much softer than he usually does.

"Wow ... I just ..." Yoongi exhales, "Damn."

Jimin offers a small smile before gesturing to their food.

"At least we can really be brothers now." Yoongi jokes, sliding a piece of paper with your address on it to Jimin.

Jimin smiles fondly at the paper before tucking it into his shirt jacket.

The image of you in white, smiling and looking only at him drives him to see you the next day.

#bts fic #bts imagine #bts fics #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts jimin #jimin imagine #jimin fluff #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #park jimin fluff #park jimin fic #fluff #mutual pining #cute

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skylarmoon71 · 3 years

Text

Nick Jakoby x Reader Oneshot- (Bright)

“Oink, oink over here piggy!”

The group of men standing in the doorway made you grimace. Damn they pissed you off. Nick walked pass them with his head lowered, trying his best to ignore the rude remarks. You’d just clocked in, and this had become a regular. Their tauntings. You really wanted to body slam all four of them. But you restrained yourself. “Don’t bother with them Nick, their dick heads. “ It was no secret that they hated the male Orc. Nick was by far the sweetest man on the force, and he wasn’t even a man. Which really said something for the unit.

“I’m used to it, it’s fine.” you frowned. He shouldn’t have to get used to it. He was just as hardworking and diligent as any other cop. You nudged his shoulder with a smile as you walked with him. “Cheer up, in a couple of hours we have that awful dinner to attend. You have worse things ahead." Nick shook his head with a shy smile. “Is that supposed to make me feel better.”

“Not really.” with a small giggle, you met your partner. Nick headed over to Ward, and your eyes wandered, just admiring him. You had no idea why people gave him such a hard time. It’s true that Orcs sided with the enemy in the past, but that was thousands of years ago. The world had changed so much since then, apparently not in the ways you hoped.

Nick was so misunderstood and underappreciated. He had so much to offer if he was just given a chance. Not to mention he was a total sweetheart. Pretty handsome too. The final thought erupts a blush to your cheek, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by your partner.

“What’s got you all red in the face?” Jacob, your partner raises an eyebrow, and your face gets darker. “Nothing let’s get going.” he doesn’t quite believe you, and you try to steal one last look at Nick before you have to get going, but Jacob catches the action, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Shit I knew it!!” His yell catches the attention of everyone in a five mile radius and as the officers stare, you feel Nick’s stare follow. You cower, smacking Jacob who just waves everyone off. When their gazes have diverted, you glare at the man before you. He raises his hands defensively. “Sorry, sorry didn’t mean to cause a scene. Not everyday you discover your partner has a crush. Damn Victoria owes me twenty bucks!”

“Y-You betted on my love life with your wife!!”

“Umm, hell yeah I did. Why are you even surprised?” he was right, you shouldn’t have been. You just roll your eyes, and soon the both of you are headed to the squad car. Jacob is still wearing that smug grin as you jump into the vehicle. “So when are you gonna ask him out?”

“I-I’m not!”

“You’re kidding, you have to (Y/N)!” Jacob has always been majorly supportive, but you’re still a little anxious. Your head lowers. “Y-You don’t think it’s weird that I..I mean I don’t care if anyone says anything but I just..I..” The way you're struggling with your words, it’s not hard for Jacob to understand. “Listen, I’d never judge you for something like that. We’re partners (Y/N), practically family now. And honestly Nick is awesome, dude brings me scones every Tuesday cause he passes at my favorite shop on his way to work. He’s a hero in my book.” He lets out a few fake sobs to get his point across and you just groan at his childishness.

“Seriously though, Nick’s a really good guy. Everyone treats him like shit, yet he comes back and tells them to be safe. If it were me, I don’t think I’d be able to handle it that well. He could easily quit, probably just become the monster everyone keeps accusing him of being. But he wakes up and he does the job, all because he loves it, he generally cares about protecting people who don’t give a shit about him. It’s inspiring to watch. There aren’t many people like left in this world (Y/N), if you find someone like that, you should do what you can to hold onto them.” His finger ran over his wedding band, a smile playing on his lips. “That’s what I did.” His smile makes your face brighten, and you nod.

“I’ll do my best. “

So maybe your partner wasn’t a complete idiot.

That afternoon when you get home, you’re on a mission. Jacob’s advice is ringing in your head. He’s right. So you’ve decided this annual police will be your best yet. You were gonna go all out. You rarely ever get dressed up, too accustomed to dark suit pants and uncomfortable belts. You wanted something to catch Nick’s attention, then maybe it would give you the confidence to finally own up to your feelings and ask the guy out. You jump into the shower.

“Time to knock them dead. “

~Three hours later~

“Quit fidgeting, you look fine.” Ward smacks Nick’s hands away from the tie. He’s been messing with it for the last ten minutes, mostly out of nervousness. This is his first time he’s worn a tux. He feels a bit ridiculous, but with Ward’s assurance, he can only hope he’s pulling it off. They stand at a table making small talk, mostly Ward.

Nick offers a word here and there. By the looks he keeps getting, he can tell that his opinion isn’t really wanted by the people there. So he busies himself with watching the other people mingling around him. Everyone looks relaxed, sipping wine, helpling themselves to food. He’s never been a fan of this. Every year they hold these little banquets to treat the new recruits and commend exemplary performances throughout the unit. It’s a fun event for the most part. But his fellow coworkers never rest with their harsh opinions. It isn’t even verbal, just by the looks he knows.

The sound of a few whistles catches his attention. There’s a small commotion at the doorway. He vaguely makes out the edge of purple, and that’s when he notices the man that walks in. But that isn’t what captures his eyes, it’s the woman he’s escorting on his arm.

Golden orbs widen, and his ears twitch a bit too quickly. He wants to control it, but it’s hard, because the smile that lands in his direction knocks the wind right out of him. “Wow, your girlfriend cleans up nice.” Ward whispers.

“S-She’s not my girlfriend.” he grumbles back. Now that you’re clear in his view, he can fully admire your dress. It’s a velvet luxe maxi dress. The color is a beautiful lavender. Thin straps at the shoulder, low cut displaying just enough cleavage. And a slit that stops mid thigh, with matching heels to complete the whole look. Your hair is loose, and a very light amount of makeup, highlighting your features. Nick thought you were gorgeous before, but somehow you’ve outdone yourself. He can’t look away, and he really should before you take notice.You settle at a table not too far from him, pulling the focus of a few males present there. With polite smiles and little words, Nick feels a bit envious.

“Now’s your chance hotshot. Ask her out before one of those hyenas beat you to it.” Nick wants to convince Ward that it’s useless, there’s no way you’d go for someone like him. You’re completely different in every sense of the word. He doesn’t have a chance. As he opens his mouth he’s about to lay out his case, but a sweet lavender scent fills his nostrils, and he wants to question the origin, just then he feels a light tap on his shoulder. He turns, and the heavenly aroma hits him tenfold. Somehow you’ve walked over without him realizing. He’s supposed to be more aware, he’s a cop after all. Your glossed lips turn into a smile as you bat your eyes.

“Nick..do you wanna maybe dance?”

The slow sound filling the room, doubled with the couples now filling up the floor catches his eyes. He’s tongue tied, because you can’t really be asking him. Out of all the guys there, why him? Yes, the both of you have been friends for months now, but he’s sort of assumed your kindness was due to pity more than anything else.

You're still watching him hopefully, and Ward gives an encouraging push. He stumbles, grabbing your shoulders lightly. When he’s steadied himself, he pulls back. “He’d love to.” Ward says. Nick doesn’t get a chance to put in a word for himself, because you smile, taking his hand and pulling him to the center of the dance floor. Nick is staggering behind, trying not to knock into anyone. When you get to your desired area, you turn back to him. Nick is stiff, the both of you are just standing there, a number of eyes on you. “I-I should probably just go, everyone is staring and I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” His eyes lift, and the way you look at him, it makes his heart hammer. What has he done to deserve your kindness, he has no idea.

Deciding that you need to be the one to make a move, you take his hands and place them around your waist as you step closer. You can feel the slight tremble in his palms that are pressed to your body now. It’s so adorable. He’s still stiff as a board, but you know he’s trying. He’s probably so touch starved. It hurts to just think about it. Your hands are resting on his chest lightly, and you sigh, swaying with the music. Nick swallows, he’s a bit taller than you, and he’s trying his best not to look down directly at you. With you so close it’s hard for him not to pass out at how amazing you smell. Your hands slide up, going around his neck. His eyes finally meet yours, and the meaning in your eyes, it triggers something in him. “Nick..” you’re whispering, and it breaks his train of thought. “Yeah.” you lick your lips, and he wishes he could just kiss those plump lips. They are begging to be touched.

“Do you possibly want to-” a hand pulling you from the Orc in your arms makes you jerk. Nick looks just as surprised. The officer standing between the both of you, suddenly it makes sense, and you're pissed. “Run along pig face, she’s tired of you.” Pollard rests a hand on your waist, pulling you into his side, and you shove him back. “You’re the one who’s interrupting, what the hell we were dancing!!” you're enraged. Not only has he messed up your plan to finally ask Nick out, but he’s also insulted him. Nick can see the displeasure on your face, and he’s about to suggest that maybe you leave. The last thing he wants is for you to get caught in the middle of this. He could take Pollard’s insults any day. But he doesn’t want any negative attention drawn to you.

“Come on you don’t have to give anymore charity, we all know why you do this. You feel bad for little piggy here. Don’t waste your evening on him, how about you come with me. Have some real fun.” It’s almost laughable that he thinks you’ll drop everything and just run off with him. Nick now looks less sure of himself, a bit defeated. It’s then you realize that he must have assumed the same. You’re being nice out of some foolish obligation. You open your mouth to assure him, but stop. This time, words may not be enough. It’s time to take action. So with two swift strides you grab Nick by the lapels of his shirt and pull him in for a kiss. Pollard gapes, and Nick is tense and wide eyed.

“I’m dreaming…” He has to be. You couldn’t be..kissing him. Your eyes are closed, and you still have a firm hold on his clothing. A few more seconds pass and you pull back slowly. Your eyes move from Nick’s soft lips, to his topaz eyes. The bewildered expression is highly anticipated.

“If you’ll excuse us, we have business to attend to.” you take Nick’s hand, leaving a stunned Pollard, and a few surprised officers. You don’t even look back, you do however pass Jacob on your way out of the building. He’s grinning probably wider than you. When the door snaps shut behind you and you're free of the intrusive stares, you look at Nick. He’s still in a mid state of shock. “I’m sorry..” you mutter.

Now that the events play back, you’re bashful. You didn’t even get to ask him out. Nick collects himself slowly, shaking his head. “N-No it’s fine.” An awkward silence follows. You want to say something to cut the tension, but Nick interrupts. “I should take you home.” He doesn't look at you when he says that, and now you're a bit scared that you’ve crossed a line and misread all the signs. Self conscious and mortified, you just nod. Nick’s car is parked close, as he opens the door, you jump inside. He does the same, pulling off.

The ride is anything but pleasant. It’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop. Nick is staring ahead, and the look he wears is unreadable.

“I ruined everything.” You should have never done that, especially since you weren’t even sure of any feelings. He must be completely disgusted with you. You're thankful that the ride isn’t long, because in a few minutes he pulls up. You don’t make any kind of eye contact, just whisper a thanks, opening the door and stepping out.

You want to cry, how did the night turn so horrible that quickly. As you close the vehicle door, you all but sprint to your house, taking out your keys and opening your front door. You don’t even bid him goodbye, you just focus on getting inside. You do, stepping in and leaning back as you shut the door. “Idiot!” you scold yourself. “I’m an idiot..” you bite your lip. How would you ever face him again.

The knock at your door makes you jump, and you turn, opening the door hesitantly. You peek outside, a bit surprised. “N-Nick..” He’s staring at you, maybe wanting answers for all that happened. You step back, letting him inside. He’s the one that closes the door this time.

“Why did you kiss me?” Blunt, to the point. From the look, you know he’s just as conflicted by all of this as you. Now might be your last chance. You’ve already kissed him, what was the harm in telling him the truth. It might help you both.

“Because I..It’s what I’ve wanted to do for months now. “ you confess. His forehead creases in astonishment. “Nick I’ve..I’ve had it bad for you for so long and it makes my blood boil every time I hear the way they talk to you! You’re so caring and selfless and goddamn hot to me and I wish everyone could see how amazing you are if they’d just give you an opportunity.” you’re rambling, but you don’t care. “That jackass Pollard ruined everything I had this whole night planned out, I was gonna wow you with this dress and then finally ask you out but then he came with his false macho bullshit and it just pissed me off and that’s why I grabbed you like that to show him that this isn’t some charity I actually am crazy about you and I..” you heave, for a minute there you forgot you should breathe. “I’m so crazy about you Nick.”

He’s still just standing there, and now you’ve given him a chance to speak. From his expression, he doesn’t know what to say. You were so out of his league.

“I don’t understand why you would..why..” that self conscious look, you’ve seen it many times.

“Nick, I want you.” he stops, eyes opening a bit wider now. “I’m tired of you being so hard on yourself. You have nothing to be ashamed of. “ you take a step forward, and he doesn’t move a muscle. “Truthfully, when I saw you earlier in this tux, I almost passed out. “ your hands reach out, going back to where they had been before Pollard stepped in. Resting right on his broad shoulders. Another thing about him that made you swoon was his build. He was nicely muscular. It just messed you up. He needs a moment to gather his breath. “Nick do you..want me?”

“Of course!” his shout, as unexpected as it is, it makes you smile. He looks away at how desperate it sounded. “That’s good..” you don’t clarify, just lean in, and this time when your lips meet, he still doesn’t really prepare. It’s so tender, almost tentative. When he finally convinces his mind that it’s real, his hands wrap around your body, pulling you in. You sigh, and Nick responds, returning the kiss. Your head is in the clouds, You feel like you’re dreaming, if that’s the case you want to stay forever. You open your mouth, urging him to do the same, he does, taking control.

You moan when he pushes you up against the door, now kissing you hungrily. One of his hands drift down to your bare thigh, and another needy sound releases. You can’t stop it and you don’t want to. His free hand presses to the door, and your hands grip at the clothes on his back. You’re trying to pull him forward, and he complies, pressing into you. It feels so great, his firm body trapping you there. There’s a low growl that comes from Nick, and somehow you’re even more turned on. Your hands have ventured back to the front of his tux, unbuttoning it quickly. It falls open and your fingers slip under the jacket, reveling in the taunt muscles.

Gosh does he feel amazing. Nick feels you start to pull at the shirt, he forces himself to part. When you’ve separated, you’re both flushed and panting. Nick still believes maybe he’s at home sleeping somehow. The new scent that fills the air nearly makes his knees buckle. Your lust is so prominent, he can almost taste it. Your chest is still heaving, but you're slowly coming down from your high, so is Nick. It’s then you realize what was about to happen if not for Nick’s pause. You feel a bit embarrassed now. You hug yourself, blushing a deep red.

“S-Sorry, guess I kind of got a bit crazy..” Nick smiles. “You don’t have to apologize.” He’d be stupid to make you feel bad about such a thing. He was just as equally responsible. Fact is, it took everything in him to stop himself. As much as he wants this to progress, he also wants more than just a heated night with you. He wants so much more.

“(Y/N), I’d..really like to take you out sometime..” he mumbles it, still fairly insecure about it all. The way your eyes light up though, his fears are all gone. You don’t respond, and he doesn’t need one because you jump into his arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek, grinning like a child on Christmas.

“You don’t even have to ask, it’s a yes.” you whisper in his ear. He holds you close, breathing in your scent. He wants to lock that away forever. He wants this to last forever. For now though, just being with you now, it’s enough.

#nick jakoby #bright #ward #love #orcs #fairies #elves #magic #acceptance #friends to lovers #insecure #cops #LAPD #parties #confessions #nick jakoby x reader #friendship #dorks in love

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monicashipsnickyjoe · 3 years

Text

(part 4 of my advertising agency office au. check out part 1/2/3)

At the end of the day, Nicky tries to think of ways to more properly thank Joe for saving his bank account and, probably, his job. A handshake, perhaps? No, that’s not enough, and after the jacket incident, it would feel too formal. Perhaps an email? A curt nod?

Ug! He buries his fingers in his hair. Why is he so bad at this?

On a poster on the wall of his cubicle, the kitten clings to that tree branch. Hang in there! If the kitten can do it, then surely he can -

A card! Decided, he turns back to his computer. He could try to make one by hand, but he lacks any artistic talent. The best he can do is adjust the word processor to print out a few clip-art designs in a way he can fold into a card. Nicky has to buy his own ink for the printer beneath his desk, but he doesn’t mind using it for this. He only wishes he splurged and bought color ink instead of only black.

After carefully folding the thin computer paper into a slightly lopsided, card-like shape, he fills in the boxy THANK YOU on the front with pink, yellow, and blue highlighters. Inside, beneath a smiley face, he writes his name: Nicolò.

Around him, his co-workers begin to leave. The clock on his monitor tells him it’s already ten after 5. Nicky grabs his card and his jacket and leaves his cubicle. Like wading upstream, he dodges his exiting co-workers, all headed the opposite way, as he makes his way past the water cooler and toward the offices.

He glares at the copier as he steps around it, and knocks his knuckles on the door frame to Joe’s office.

Joe’s three monitors are on, two paused on different sections of what appears to be a commercial-in-progress. The third shows his email inbox. Joe is looking at none of them. Instead, he’s swiveled in his desk chair to the barren section of his L-shaped desk. He sketches something in a notebook. Under his desk, he’s kicked off his shoes.

At Nicky’s knock, he looks up, and those heavy bags under his eyes have only darkened since this morning, he visibly brightens when Nicky steps into the room.

“Have you been home since yesterday?” Nicky asks.

Joe glances to the side, like he’s thinking of a lie, but he quickly sighs and says, “I went home for a shower about 4 this morning.”

“Have you eaten?”

Joe waves to the take-out containers Nicky now sees wedged behind his monitors. There’s several days worth.

“You should go home,” Nicky says. “You’ll get sick like this.”

Joe shrugs. “It’s only until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” That doesn’t make sense. Nicky has seen the forecasted earnings for the next month, coupled with the designer-client meeting schedules. He knows Joe’s meeting with the Pharmaceutical company isn’t until next week. And even if Merrick convinced Joe to move it forward, tomorrow is impossibly soon.

“Honestly, I thought I’d get far enough ahead last night to give me a break tonight but... things change.” He smiles up at Nicky, but it doesn’t hold.

Things change. What could have changed from yesterday to today?

Oh.

Oh, no.

“Joe,” Nicky storms further into the room, coming right up to the edge of Joe’s desk. “Tell me you didn’t move up the schedule because of me.”

“It’s not your fault,” Joe says, but his eyes are soft and sad. He’s lying.

“Joe.” Nicky clutches his pathetic card in both hands. It’s not enough. Not near enough.

“What Merrick wanted to do to you was wrong. If I could fix it by putting in another all-nighter, what does it matter?” He holds Nicky’s gaze, and that at least, is earnest. Which only makes Nicky feel worse.

“But, Joe -”

“I did what I had to do, Nicky, and I’d do it again.”

“But you didn’t have to.”

Joe laughs a little, under his breath. “I will always stay true to my heart.”

Nicky’s not sure what he means, so he doesn’t know how to argue. He looks down at his card. At the very least, he could have more carefully colored the letters inside the lines. Yet somehow, he knows Joe will still love it.

It’s not enough.

“What are you having to eat tonight?” Nicky asks.

Frowning, Joe waves to take-out containers again.

Nicky’s stomach flips. “No,” he says, before he even realizes he’s spoken. When Joe blinks at him, Nicky trudges onward. “Do not eat that. I will bring you dinner.”

Joe leans back in his chair. Those dark bags are barely visible now, with how bright his eyes are, like he just woke up to Christmas morning.

“Wait for me,” Nicky says, and all but throws his silly card at Joe.

Joe catches it with both hands. Nicky turns and leaves before he can see him read it.

Nicky, fortunately, has stew cooking in a crock pot since before work. He woke up early, restless from having heard Joe call his name in his sleep. To distract himself, he sliced carrots and potatoes and beef. He paced the length of his small kitchen, worrying over spices, trying not to think of Joe.

So, after rushing back to his apartment, he doesn’t have to worry about making anything new. He cooked enough for several days of leftovers, but he packs it all up now into five different containers, and puts them into an insulated thermal bag. He also throws in some napkins, two forks and a spoon, not knowing Joe’s preference. He grabs some waters from the fridge, a bag of fresh rolls from his pantry, and hurries out the door.

Back at the office, Joe has tacked Nicky’s ridiculous card onto the wall. He’s smiling at it when Nicky steps through the doorway.

“You’re back.” Joe turns that smile on Nicky, and Nicky trips a little on the carpet.

“I hope you like stew,” Nicky says, dropping his gaze to his feet so he can make it safety across the room.

“I love it.”

“Good. I brought you enough for several days.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Joe says.

Nicky opens the thermal bag. He pulls out one container and places it before Joe. He sets a second one beside it, for himself. He removes the napkins and the silverware, and sets the rest aside.

“Take my chair,” Joe tells him, standing. He slides it over before Nicky can refuse, then goes to retrieve a metal fold-out from against the wall.

“Joe -”

“Just sit, Nicky. You went to all this trouble.” Joe arranges the fold-out and sits. “I’ll be in that chair all night. It’s good to spice things up.”

Nicky could hardly see how sitting in a metal chair would ‘spice things up’ but he decides not to argue.

They remove the lids and dig into the food. At the first bite, Nicky’s pleased the stew is still hot. All thoughts fizzle, however, at the sound of Joe moaning delightedly.

Joe’s eyes flutter closed. After he swallows, he laughs. “Nicky, you have spoiled me. This is delicious! You must tell me which restaurant you bought this from. I will never eat anywhere else.”

Nicky’s face burns so hot, he might catch fire. “I made it.”

Joe’s gaze snaps to him. “You...?“ Surprise makes way to something else, something warmer, and for a moment, Nicky suspects Joe might hug him. Or maybe he just wants him to.

“Nicky,” Joe says. “I am convinced you are an angel.”

Nicky shakes his head. “If I was an angel, I wouldn’t have broken the copier.”

Joe grunts, like he doesn’t agree, but rather than argue, he returns to the stew.

They eat for a time, before Nicky wonders aloud.

“You surprised me, the other day,” Nicky says. “When you knew my name.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Joe lowers his spoon. “You were introduced on your first day.”

Nicky remembers Merrick waving toward him unceremoniously as he stood by the water cooler on his first day. People stood in their cubicles and sat down immediately after. He hadn’t noticed anyone step out of the offices.

“That was a year ago,” Nicky says.

“I would never forget you.” Joe scoops fresh stew onto his spoon and brings it to his mouth.

“But you never...” Nicky has no idea how to handle this new information. “We never...” He motions his fork between the two of them.

Joe lowers his chin, sheepish. “I thought of how to approach you a thousand times. But you are so...”

Oh. Nicky frowns. “Quiet.”

“No!” Joe leans forward. “Beautiful! That’s what I was going to say.”

Nicky blinks, too stunned to speak.

“I wanted to impress you, but I didn’t know how. I even tried to learn Italian, though work has been so... it’s been difficult to find time to do anything else.” Shaking his head, he sits back in the chair again. He lifts his spoon. “I’ve only learned a few words so far, but I will learn more. I’m determined.” Joe speaks with such confidence, Nicky believes him.

“Joe.” Nicky tries to find his voice. It feels important, to reply.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No,” Nicky says. “The opposite.”

“Oh?”

Nicky swallows his nerves, takes a breath. “Joe, you are the most beautiful person I have ever met.”

Joe’s cheeks tint red. His eyes sparkle, or maybe it’s the overhead light reflecting just right. What does it matter, with how lovely he looks when his lips part and he whispers, “Nicolò.“

If Nicky stays, he will kiss him, and if he kisses him, he will not stop. “I should leave you to your work.” Before hurt can settle on Joe’s face, Nicky reaches out and places his hand on Joe’s arm near the wrist. His thumb circles the fragile bones there. “The sooner you are finished, the sooner you can leave.”

Joe’s smile returns, a touch more devilish than before. “And then?”

Joe’s skin is warm under Nicky’s hand. All Nicky would have to do is lean a little closer and he could... They could...

He starts to. So does Joe.

But then Nicky snaps back, remembering, and makes himself pull away. He stands and moves around the chair, placing it between them. Yet even with the distance, the air sparks between them.

Nicky gives Joe a look. “And then.”

Whatever Joe sees in his face has Joe popping out of his chair. “Nicky, stay.”

“You’ll never finish your work.”

“To hell with it.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do, and I...” He stops himself and sighs. “No. When my lips touch yours for the first time, it will not be in this place.”

The thrill of a kiss rushes up Nicky’s spine, and he shivers. “When this is done...” He sucks in a breath, steadying himself. “When this is done, we will meet, and then...”

Joe licks his lips. “And then.”

#i wrote something nickyjoe #nicky x joe #joe x nicky #joenicky #kaysonova #welp that's where it went haha #advertising agency au #hey how about an office au lol idk man #no powers au #au #this is part 4 please read other parts first they all reference each other #food cw #ty discord for food help i am hopeless haha #i might have to raise the rating oops lol #we'll see haha

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marshmallow-phd · 3 years

Text

Book of the Dead

Genre: The Mummy AU

Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader

Summary: After traveling to the fabled city of Hamunaptra, you read from the Book of the Dead and accidentally resurrect an ancient mummy with extraordinary powers and quest for revenge. The only thing to do now is try and convince your less-than-traditional guide to help you save the world.

Part 1 I Part 2

“I just said a few sentences!”

“What did you do that for!”

“Well, I didn’t know that that would happen!”

You stared at the aggravating, self-absorbed, cocky Korean soldier and wondered why on earth you had decided to negotiate for this man’s life.

Alright, you did know why. You needed him to show you to Hamunuptra - the fabled City of the Dead.

Too many times you had stood in front of the museum curator with pages and pages of references and evidence that the place existed and just needed a small team of archeologists in order to track it down. He’d shot you down every time. And each time he took the liberty of reminding you that while your father was an exceptional explorer who had many successes under his belt, you were a woman whose life had been spent between the shelves, cataloging. Your adventures consisted of the fictional kind, devouring any novel you could when you weren’t archiving the latest crate of artifacts and texts.

Then your cousin showed up. Your normally useless, hare-brained, erratic, drunkard cousin showed up at your apartment with a “fun new artifact” he found on his latest trip. And suddenly your luck had completely turned around.

Or so you thought.

Now you were standing in the middle of Hamunaptra, feet sinking into the unstable sand, with an empty sarcophagus and everyone blaming you because you did what you did best - read.

It was only a book. Albeit, a very heavy, possibly-made-of-painted-solid-gold book that was written in the dead language of ancient Egypt, but still. What harm had ever come from reading a book?

Kim Junmyeon stared at you as if you were the one who had risen from the dead. You were still stunned at how different he looked from when you had first met him in that smelly prison, minutes away from being hanged. His hair had been long and stringy, clumps of dirt clinging to the dark brown strands that brushed his shoulders. Now it was shorter, cut above his ears and gelled back in the current style that almost made him look like a gentleman. The several days’ stubble was long gone to reveal smooth skin and a sharp jawline. He was actually very handsome - when he was cleaned up.

Stupid, you hissed at yourself. Now was not the time for this. Because right now there seemed to be a reanimated mummy running around here. And by the looks of Barney’s husk of a body lying deep within the temple underground, it was hungry.

As it should be, given the three thousand years it spent locked up under piles of sand.

“Really, you should have been more careful!” your cousin, Baekhyun, scolded.

You scoffed. “You’re one to talk. You were the one who snatched the key off of Mr. Kim here at one of your seedy bars and then proceeded to lie to me and say that you found it on a dig in Thebes which in turn brought us here!”

Baekhyun opened and closed his mouth as he searched for a possible retort.

“I think this is more your fault,” Kim Junmyeon’s own cousin and traveling partner, Oh Sehun, said. “You told us to go down a level and dig under the statue, which in turn,” he mocked your tone almost precisely, “caused the mummy to be able to get out of his sarcophagus. If we had dug somewhere else entirely, then he’d still be trapped under the statue of Anubis.”

“Despite the fact that it was two layers deep, nothing would have been able to hold a victim of the Hom-Dai.”

“Would have given poor Barney a chance,” Kim Junmyeon muttered under his breath. You shot him a glare that he hardly noticed.

“I say that we get out of here and to the safety of the city before the mummy finds us.” Oh Sehun swallowed thickly. “Or worse. The beetles find us.” The supposedly brave soldier who had two pistols hanging under each arm was more terrified of the flesh eating bugs than he was the living mummy that was bringing about the ten plagues of Egypt. You’d already lived through the locust infestation, but that was always the most minor of the plagues. In your opinion.

“We told you to leave,” Ardeth said in that low, monotone voice that made him seem centuries old. You had only known him for a few hours, but you already feared and respected him. Despite the fact that he had attacked your campsite the night before. “Now you have condemned the whole world to the very monster that we have spent three thousand years keeping hidden.”

Kim Junmyeon finally tore his face away from yours. “I told you. I shot him. He went down.”

“Mortal weapons are useless against this creature. None can kill him.” Stepping up, he stood toe to toe with the soldier who led you here. “A gun is nothing more than a fly to him. He will never eat. He will never sleep. And he will never stop. Not until this world is only sand.”

Though still not completely backing down, Kim Junmyeon took hold of your arm. “Come on. We’re going back to Cairo.”

The camel ride back to the city was long, tiring, and a bit painful, if you were honest. The inside of your thighs were sore from keeping you up right on the animal’s back for hours on end under the blazing heat. You were used to the comfortable back seat of a car, even if the roads here tended to be on the bumpier side. Kim Junmyeon stayed at your side the entire time, up until you were back in your hotel room. All your things were still in there. That was nice, even if it was to be expected. The desk clerk had sworn he would keep the room reserved for you until you made it back. And now that you had, you were on to the next fight.

“We’re not going anywhere!”

Kim Junmyeon pretended not to hear you as he started emptying the dresser drawers of your clothes and stuffing them in your suitcases lying open on the bed.

“Excuse me! I said we’re not going anywhere!” As soon as he stepped away again, you slammed the suitcase shut. A stray white cat that you didn’t have the heart to remove from your room took advantage of the newly available space and laid down on the surface of the luggage. Unbothered by the argument taking place in its presences, it purred as it curled into a ball and closed its eyes.

“You keep using the word ‘we’ and I’m not sure why,” he said. “I believe you were the one who woke him up in the first place.”

“Yes, I get it!” you shouted. “Everyone can blame me because I read the damn book, but that is why we need to stop him.”

He closed the empty drawer and turned back around to face you. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that? You heard Ardeth. No mortal weapon can kill this guy.”

“That’s why we’re going to find some immortal ones.”

He pulled a pair of rounded glasses from his pocket, wiped the lenses with his shirt, and stuck them on the bridge of his nose. “There goes that ‘we’ business again.”

You huffed, trying not to focus on the newest version of the soldier now being presented in front of you. “Yes, we. Because this curse will continue to get worse until the whole world is destroyed.”

“And that’s my problem?”

“It is everybody’s problem! You live here, too!”

Kim Junmyeon stepped up until he was mere inches away. “Listen. I appreciate you saving my life and all, but when I agreed to this idiotic mission my objective was to show you the way and then bring you back here. I have done that. End of job. End of story. Contract terminated.”

You tried not to show how his last few words affected you. Though you had been a little intoxicated two nights ago, you still very much remembered how sweet he had been, how he had listened to you go on and on about your parents and how much you wanted to be a famous adventurer like your father. And how you almost kissed him. And how he was going to kiss you back. Stupidly, you had thought that there was something growing between you. Apparently, you had been wrong.

“Is that all I am to you?” you whispered. “A contract?”

Kim Junmyeon blew out haughtily from his nose. His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed. He opened his mouth and then closed it. You waited in hopes that he would contradict you. That he would say, no that was not all you were to him. And it really seemed like he would be saying something along those lines. But other words came out instead.

“Look. You can either come with me or you can try and stay here and save the world. So. What’s it going to be?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “I’m staying.”

“Fine.” He headed for the door.

“Fine,” you bit back, following him.

“Fine,” he threw at you again as he barely glanced over his shoulder.

“Fine!”

He got the last word in before slamming the door to your room shut.

You huffed as you crossed your arms. Yet, as angry as you were, you still hoped that he would come back. That he wouldn’t let you take this on alone. But the footsteps on the other faded away and you were alone.

Looking around your room, you didn’t think there was much you could do. So, you did what you were best at. You grabbed all the books you thought could help you and got to reading.

While sitting in the wicker chair in the corner, you skipped around the books and pages, clinging on to any small word that you thought could lead you to a possible solution. There wasn’t much to be found, unfortunately. Most works spoke of how to perform the Hom-Dai and how it should never be performed due to the curse that awaits should the victim ever be awakened. You already knew that. You needed specifics on what to do after the victim came back.

“(Y/n)!”

Kim Junmyeon came bursting back into your room. You slammed the book in your hands closed, feeling very high and mighty indeed.

“Ah. Mr. Kim. Have you changed your mind?”

“Doesn’t matter now, he’s here!”

“What!”

He didn’t clarify as he hoisted you up out of the chair and pulled you out of the room, and into the hall. Through the windows, you watched in horror as fire fell from the heavens. The balls of flame engulfed anything it touched when it landed, whether it be plant or human life. Turning a corner, Kim Junmyeon ran into a room you knew was occupied by another one of the Americans that you had ran into on your way to Hamunaptra. You gasped.

In the chair, now nothing more than dried, husky skin and hollow bones was… oh, dear you couldn’t remember his name. You hadn’t bothered to learn them. You and Baekhyun had simply referred to them as the “Bloody Americans”. You were feeling a bit awful about that at the moment.

But you didn’t have much time to dwell on that. Standing in front of the fireplace was a new version of the mummy. His skin was starting to come together, though patches were still missing, allowing you to see the gray bone and lack of organs underneath. Kim Junmyeon pulled out both of his guns as the mummy stalked forward.

“We are in deep trouble,” he murmured before opening fire. The loud pops banged on your poor eardrums. You stumbled back a few steps to try and soften their blows. It didn’t work.

The bullets passed through the mummy as if they didn’t exist at all. Even when Oh Sehun and the other Americans came running into the room and firing off their own guns, the mummy still kept going. He shoved Kim Junmyeon back into the others as if he were nothing more than old wrappings. Then he turned on you.

Completely unarmed, you stumbled back until you were betrayed by the bookshelf behind you. There was nowhere to run. Instead of sucking out your liver, however, he spoke.

“You were the one who saved me from the afterlife.” His words were haunting, echoing as if he was speaking in a cavern. And the language he spoke… ancient Egyptian. You weren’t sure why you expected to speak anything else. Coming in closer, he lowered his voice. “I thank you.”

He leaned in his head, those very human eyes lowering to your lips. You turned your head away to try and avoid the kiss, confused as to why he was trying to seduce you.

Sharp, unpleasing notes from the piano pierced through the air. The mummy turned and gasped when he saw the white cat from your room walking across the keys. In a whirl of sand, he fled from the room.

“Oh, thank god,” you said with a heavy breath.

“No kidding,” Kim Junmyeon groaned as he sat up.

You ran to his side, fearful that he might have been injured. “Are you alright, Mr. Kim?”

“Yes,” he huffed. With a very odd expression, he added, “And I told you to call me Junmyeon.”

To be honest, after your fight, you didn’t think you would be allowed to anymore. A strange silence settled between you. He was trying to say something with his gaze, but you couldn’t interpret it. So, instead, you helped him to his feet. “Come on. I know who we need to talk to about all of this.”

It took a while to get back to the museum that had employed you for the past year or so. Every street was full of panicking people. Flames no longer fell from the heavens, but little fires still raged on homes and carts. The Americans had declared that they were coming along, so your group was slower in moving. Although you didn’t really want the mummy bait to be anywhere near you, Junmyeon and Sehun decided that it would be better to keep an eye on them and - hopefully - keep them out of the mummy’s grasp.

“Dr. Bey!” You ran into the museum’s main storage room, happy when you saw the curator. But then you skidded to a stop at the sight that he wasn’t alone.

Ardeth was talking with him in hushed tones that stopped the second you appeared. Both men turned towards you, the curator wearing a very readable expression. It was one that stunk of “I told you so”. The others were only a few steps behind. As soon they, too, saw the unexpected visitor, Junmyeon, Sehun, and the Americans pulled out their guns while Baekhyun simply squeaked in surprise.

“Gentlemen,” Dr. Bey greeted as if this were any old meeting on a Tuesday.

“What is he doing here?” Junmyeon demanded. Even with the black tattoos etched under Ardeth’s eyes, you could tell that he was tired, dark circles from lack of sleep bruising his skin.

Dr. Bey raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to know? Or perhaps you would prefer to just shoot us?”

“Either sounds good.” Junmyeon cocked back the hammer of one of his guns for emphasis.

“Stop it,” you hissed. “Bullets won’t do any good here. Besides, you might damage some of the artifacts.”

Junmyeon failed to suppress a laugh over your concern. Despite the present danger, you still didn’t want to see the carriages or sacred jars damaged because someone got trigger happy. So, Junmyeon holstered his guns and the others soon followed suit. “All right. I’ll give a little faith.”

Dr. Bey motioned for the group to follow him in deeper. “We’re part of a secret society-”

“Aren’t they all?” Baekhyun muttered. Both you and Dr. Bey shot him glares that made him snap his mouth shut.

“For over three thousand years, we have guarded the City of the Dead. Once we reach manhood, we swear an oath to do anything and everything in our power to stop the high priest Imhotep from rising from the grave.”

“And now we have failed. Thanks to you.” Ardeth gave you a particularly pointed look.

By now, you were getting very irritated with the constant finger pointing. What was done was done. You were not going to show him any cowardice. “And that justifies the murder of innocent people?”

“Hm. To stop this creature?” Dr. Bey pretended to think for a moment. “Yes.”

Junmyeon, untroubled by that, raised his hand from the golden seat of a dead royal that he had taken over. “I have a question. Why doesn’t he seem to like cats?”

“Cats are the guardians of the underworld. He will fear them until he reaches full regeneration.”

“Then there will be nothing that he fears.” Worry was very much apparent in the soldier’s voice.

“And you know how he gets regenerated?” one of the Americans asked rhetorically.

The other one finished. “By tracking those of us down who opened the chest and sucking us dry like a nomad in the desert, that’s how!”

It was completely pointless to go over the things that were already known. Now was the time to try and piece the unused parts together. Two particular moments were sticking out in your head.

“Back in Hamunaptra, the priest - Imhotep - he called me Ack-Su-Namun. And then just now at the hotel, he….” You cringed at the memory, thankful that you didn’t have to feel the decomposed skin against your own. “He tried to kiss me.”

“It’s because of Anck-Su-Namun and his love for her that he was cursed,” Dr. Bey explained, exchanging a look with Ardeth. “Even after all this time….”

“He’s still in love with her?” Sehun finished with a scoff.

You appreciated the backstory, however - “As romantic as that is, what does that have to do with me?”

“Perhaps he will try to raise her from the dead once again?” Ardeth guessed.

“Yes,” Dr. Bey agreed solemnly. “And it would seem that he has already chosen his human sacrifice.”

All eyes in the room turned to you. Wonderful.

Not only were you the one who read from the book and raised him, but you would also be responsible for the return of his beloved, who was the reason he was cursed in the first place. Absolutely beautiful.

Baekhuyn came up behind you and patted your shoulder. “That is some rotten luck, dear cousin.”

“Actually, this could work in our favor,” Dr. Bey countered. “It could give us time that we desperately need to kill the creature.”

“We’ll need every second, I think,” Sehun said. He pointed towards the ceiling. “I think he’s getting stronger.”

Through the large window high up on the wall, the sun was in clear view. You all watched in horror as the moon moved too quickly across the sky and blocked the light from reaching Earth.

“I’m guessing this is the plague of darkness?” Baekhyun said ominously. You nodded slowly.

“Let’s go,” Junmyeon said softly beside you, his hand coming up protectively behind your back. “We’ve got to get back to the hotel and come up with a plan.”

“I’m just saying, it seems very stupid to comdem someone to a curse when the result of that would be for them to come back a supernatural creature who is practically unkillable.”

“The ancient Egyptians believed in balance,” you explained to Baekhyun for the hundredth time in your life. “To curse someone so badly in both this life and the next, there has to be a consequence to balance out the scales. If not, then the whole world could still fall apart, in even worse ways!”

“All of this is kind of pointless now, isn’t it?” Sehun sighed from the small table in the antechamber to your room. His feet were up on the polished surface as he leaned back in his seat. A look of irritation was etched on his face as he stared at your cousin. “What’s done is done. Right now, we need to focus on our next step.”

“Well, I know you two,” you pointed to the Americans, “opened the chest. As well as Barney. Was there anyone else?”

“The Egyptologist that was with us,” the shaggier one answered. “Professor Chamberlain. He has a temporary residence a few blocks over.”

“What about my best friend Beni?” Junmyeon asked. You nearly snorted. You knew the two of them were anything but friends.

“No. He ran out before we took the lid off. Ended up saving his own skin.”

“Sounds like Beni,” Junmyeon said dryly. “Okay. We’re going to go get the Professor. You four,” he pointed to all the men, “come with me. You, stay here.”

Oh, no you weren’t. “Excuse me! I am just as capable as any of them are. I will not- What do you think you’re doing!”

Junmyeon marched over to you, picked you up, and carried you over his shoulder until you were in your room. Then he dropped you on the floor, closed the door, and locked it tight. “This door doesn’t open.”

You didn’t know who he said it to, who he left in charge of watching you like an infant. It didn’t matter. You pounded your fist against the solid wood door. “Baekhyun! Junmyeon! Let me out! Baekhyun, you coward! Help me out here!”

“Sorry, cousin!” Baekhyun yelled on the other side of the door. “But… he’s got a gun.”

“Smart choice,” you heard Junmyeon say. Oh, you were going to kill him. Which “him” was yet to be decided. Perhaps both would be most satisfactory.

Well, now you were stuck here.

Crossing your arms, you sat on the edge of the bed and contemplated your choices. Not that you had many.

A yawn forced its way out. You were tired. Over the past few days, you had hardly been able to get any real sleep. And, well, now seemed to be a time. So, you changed into your nightgown and slipped under the covers. The mattress was soft, like a cloud. The pillows were stuffed into freshly cleaned cotton cases. It was barely a few minutes before you drifted off…

And then abruptly woke up to something moving against your mouth. It started out soft but quickly turned ashen and tough. Your eyes flew open and you screamed, the sound muffled by the kiss of Imhotep!

You tried to shove him off, but he didn’t budge. Your touch meant nothing to him as he continued the unwanted kiss.

The door to your room burst open, finally taking his attention and allowing your scream to be heard at full volume. Imhotep’s face was half rotten away, his lips completely gone, the cheeks held together by thin strips of jerky-like skin. You scrambled out of reach, to try and get as far away as the tiny room would allow. The movement caused you to fall out of the bed and land hard on the wood floor.

Standing up, Imhotep said something in ancient Egyptian, but your jumbled, still half-asleep brain couldn’t translate it.

“Oh, really?” Junmyeon mocked. “Here’s my answer.” He held up the poor cat who had saved you earlier, the animal hissing threateningly at the mummy. Just like last time, Imhotep fled in a tornado of sand out the window, terrified of the innocent creature.

“Are you alright?” Junmyeon asked as he let the cat fall from his hands. The cat landed gracefully on its feet and walked over to the bed with more dignity than you’d ever seen a human radiate.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Baekhyun answered. After a glare from Junmyeon, he cleared his throat. “Oh. You weren’t- that’s fine. Go… check on her.” Junmyeon did just that.

Kneeling in front of you, he pushed away a few stray hairs that had fallen in your face. Warm, soft brown eyes searched for any sign of harm. The tips of his fingers brushed against your cheek, setting the skin on fire. Or perhaps that was just the blood rushing up to your face in slight embarrassment. This man made you… nervous in a way. He could be dastardly at times, but… also very sweet.

Clearing your throat, you pushed yourself up to your feet. “I’m fine. A little disgusted, but I’m fine.”

A smirk and knowing gleam flashed on Junmyeon’s face as he rose. “I’m sure mine was better.”

He was referring to the lip-smash he desperately pulled before he was to be dragged to the hangman’s noose. Not exactly the best first impression.

You snorted. “No. I wouldn’t say that.” His jaw went slack. Sehun and Baekhyun snickered behind him. “Did you find the professor?” you asked in order to change the subject.

“Yeah. He stayed out in the sun for a little long by the time we found him.”

“What are you-” Oh. Oh. That was why Imhotep was so far along in his regeneration. He’d found another victim to suck dry.

“And he has the Book of the Dead,” Sehun added. “According to Beni, that’s what he’s going to use to raise Anacsunmum.”

“Anck-Su-Namun,” you corrected.

“Yeah, her.”

You rolled your eyes. Why did you even bother?

You started pacing the room, trying to figure out what would be the best next move. You couldn’t keep playing hide and seek with the cat for all eternity. There needed to be a way to end this. Before he read from the book and raised-

The book…

The book!

You whirled back to the others. “I have an idea!”

“Care to share?”

“The Black book has always been rumored among scholars to be able to bring people back from the dead. Something I had always thought was nonsense,” you added to yourself. “But since that part is true, that means other rumors must be as well. Such as the Gold Book being able to send a soul back to the afterlife.”

“A balance.” Baekhyun looked awfully proud of himself. At least something finally stuck.

“Exactly. Now all we have to do is find out where it's hidden.”

Junmyeon frowned. “But I thought it was supposed to be hidden with Anubis?”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “It comes from a translation of an ancient text. A stone that’s at the museum here, actually. It also says where the Black book was supposed to be hidden. I think they got their translations mixed up. So, where the scholars who originally translated it said that the golden Book of Amun-Ra was in the statue of Anubis, it's actually wherever they said the black Book of the Dead was supposed to be.”

“And where is that?”

You swallowed. “I don’t remember. We’ll have to go to the museum so I can read it again.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Junmyeon checked the barrels of his guns, reloaded the revolvers with bullets from his belt. “Then I guess we’re headed back to the museum. Hopefully we don’t run into Ugly Face before we get to the rock.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” you said with the utmost confidence.

Sehun, who did not share that sentiment, looked up towards the ceiling. “Oh joy. Another book hunt.”

#exo #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo fantasy au #exo fantasy!au #junmyeon x reader #junmyeon x fem!reader #kim junmyeon #kim joonmyeon #suho #exo mummy au #exo egypt au #exo 1920s au #byun baekhyun #oh sehun #exo adventure au #Book of the Dead

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spideytingle616 · 3 years

Text

Five Months [5]

Part 4 / Masterlist

*based on the five stages of grief*

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, death, mentions of anxiety/panic, possible implications of sexual activity, blood/injury, swearing

Summary: The first time you touch your soulmate, you’re able to see a glimpse into your future. What happens if your future is also your end?

Word Count: 12.7k wow wow (bold and italics are thoughts, scenes following a +++ are a flashback)

A/N: Thank you all who have read this story! I have had this planed for almost a year, and I’m so happy it actually became a thing, though I apologize for taking so damn long with this part. I hope you enjoy. This chapter features a lot of flashbacks, so buckle up.

Chapter Description: Maybe the universe isn’t so bad…

Month Five, Acceptance: Love, and Never Forget

A new day. A new month. A new semester.

The subway ride feels extra bumpy today, most likely due to the large pit in your stomach. Going to school is never something you looked forward to, but when you got there, someone was usually waiting for you.

Someone that made the grueling day a little easier.

You sigh and slump into your seat. How does a train full of people make you feel so alone?

A completely different person could be seen in your window reflection. Or maybe you were just so numb at this point, your body was nothing but luggage you were simply dragging along.

Fuck, you were exhausted. Beyond the undereye bags and the dry hair, your frame looked like it was ready to buckle down and rest. It was already curling in, prepared to do so when given the chance. Your eyes shut tight as you clenched your fists, trying your best to quiet the anxiety that flowed through your body.

When you open your eyes, you look at your reflection one more time, ignoring the cold stare that met your own. The world keeps going, and so should you.

Everything was more or less the same at Midtown. People were alert after their long break, but they still dreaded the upcoming classes. Friends were reuniting with one another and chatting, and everything seemed normal.

But it wasn’t, at least not for you.

You close your locker, and as you turned away from the wall you were met with familiar faces coming your way. The two friends kept looking at one another as they walked toward you, and it was clear that they felt unsure about approaching.

It wasn’t like you were purposely avoiding them, so to speak. But their worried texts were plentiful, and with everything that has happened, you pushed away from their coddling. Your responses were short, usually, something along the lines of “I’m fine” and “doing good”. Whether or not they trusted that you weren’t sure, but it kept them off your tail long enough for the time being.

Fake it till you make it, right?

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” you joke, opening your arms wide. “Come here.”

MJ and Ned smile at the gesture, quickly accepting the hug. It was definitely something all of you needed. You buried your face into their shoulders, happy to be with them again. Guilt pooled in your chest.

“I missed you guys… and I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting” you sigh.

MJ tightens her grip on you, snuggling her face closer to yours. “It’s okay. We get it. We were just worried is all.”

“Still, it was selfish of me to do.” You pull away, looking between the two. “This whole thing is not just about me. I should have been there for you guys too instead of pushing myself away.”

“Well, we’re here now. Whenever you’re ready, to talk or hang out, we’ll be there.” Ned offers, and a smile reaches your face.

God, your friends were amazing. You couldn’t bear to hurt them even more with your doom and gloom. They deserved someone that would be there for them and listen to their concerns, instead of hiding in their own pool of guilt.

You quickly shake your head before speaking. “Thanks, I think I’m gonna be okay, though. If you guys need more time that’s totally fine, but I’m good. Nothing has to be weird between all of us, we can just hang out like old times, you know?”

Your friends glance at one another, their eyebrows pulled slightly tighter.

“Well, if that’s how you feel, then I’m glad,” Ned says, looking back at MJ for reassurance. “But you know, it’s totally cool if you still need time. After all, it’s been a rough month.”

You bite your tongue back from replying, your jaw suddenly tense.

Yeah, no shit…

+++

He’s gone.

Oh my god he’s gone.

He’s actually dead.

If someone came and ripped your heart out of your chest, it would be painless compared to how you felt now. You continued to stare at Peter even after his eyes closed. If you continued to look at him, maybe you could still pretend that he was alive.

When the police showed, everything was a daze. The flashes of red and blue sirens drew a queasiness deep in your stomach. As the officers forced you to let go of the boy, their voices muddled into the air. You felt completely disassociated from the scene in front of you, and all you wanted to be held in Peter’s arms. There, you could pretend that everything was okay.

“They’re still breathing!”

The shout draws you back into current time, their words shooting a current throughout your body. It couldn’t be…

“Airways are clear, but his respiratory rate is dropping. Get him on the stretcher now. Don’t let him go into shock.”

Were you hearing all this right? Too many things were happening right now, and no one bothered to tell you anything. The police were pushing you away from the scene as if you were a random pedestrian, and you were ready to grab them by the throat and scream at them. When you see Peter getting lifted into the ambulance, his suit now more red than blue, that was the last straw.

You push your way through toward the paramedics. If they were taking him, you were going too. You were right behind the red and white doors before a hard shove comes to your chest, stopping you from coming any closer.

“Excuse me miss, this is private business,” what looked like an EMT said. “Stark Industries does not want anyone seeing this. I’m going to have to ask you to go back with the crowd.”

You stare dumbfounded; at least Ned was able to get a hold of him, but the fact that they were acting as if you weren’t a witness and Peter’s friend angered you even more. “No, you don’t get it, that’s my friend in there. I- I need to be with him if he’s still alive. Please I-“

“Look, as much as I’d like to believe that we were not told anything about other parties being involved. So, to keep this under wraps, we cannot let you ride with us. If you actually do know the patient, you can follow us and figure out your clearance there,” they finalize before walking away and jumping into the vehicle. You don’t even get a chance to breathe before they’re gone, and the only remnant of Peter was the stain on the street.

The EMT did have a point. If you wanted to keep Spider-Man’s identity a secret, you couldn’t draw attention to yourself. Slipping under the newly posted yellow tape, you’re swallowed into the shadows before the police even notice.

Now here you were, in a dirty subway car at ten in the evening. Being a teenage girl, this situation would normally terrify you (Seriously guys, no means no. Why are you even near us to begin with?), but luckily the murder scene on your dress and the hollow glare in your eyes drove most passengers away from you.

Staring into space, your brain tries to process everything that just happened in the past hour. You sprinted across the city to find your dying soulmate, only to find out he isn’t dead? Or at least, not yet. Based on his current state, it could still go either way.

Shouldn’t you be feeling hopeful? Or at least some sort of relief knowing that Peter has a chance? Your body internally cringes at the idea. Getting your hopes up wasn’t great; part of you always hoped for a happy ending with Peter and look where that got you.

All you could feel was dread, and it wasn’t much better than the heartbreak prior.

The car slows down as the rest of the passengers stand and walk toward the doors, but not without giving you a worrisome stare. You ignore their eyes as they pass by; you couldn’t care less about what they thought.

You look down at your hands and focus on blood caked under your nails, trying to rub the residue away. Some looked like it came off, but the red-brown still pigmented your skin. Chest tightening, you lean back in your seat and let your head knock back.

Peter’s blood was on your hands, both figuratively and literally.

---

A chill travels through your spine, bile working its way upward.

Was that really only a month ago?

The bell sounds, its ringing bringing you more despair than usual. Your conversation was brought to an end, MJ and Ned giving you a nod to signal their departure. They forced a smile your way, and you keep your calm composure even after they turn away.

Pulling the straps of your backpack closer, you take a deep breath before walking to class.

---

“First order of business: team captain. Miss Allan’s parting was unfortunate, but both she and I believe this team will do amazing at the international competition this summer. We just need a new captain.”

“Mr. Harrington, I’m honored-“

“Not you, Flash.”

You and Ned snicker under your breaths, earning your partner an elbow from Betty. MJ rolls her eyes at the two of you, but her smile gave away her amusement.

Decathlon was supposed to be done for the school year, but your team’s win at D.C. earned Midtown a spot at its international competition in Paris. You didn’t expect the school board to approve the trip, especially with the large expenses it ensued. But apparently, they found an anonymous donor.

Though no one could figure out who would willingly spend tens of thousands of dollars for a kids’ trip to Europe, no one was complaining either, especially when they were paying to include an actual vacation with it. As ecstatic as everyone was about the opportunity, it also meant that you would soon be back to frequent practices. And as much as you enjoy this club, more work is never fun.

“After careful consideration of each of your prior performances, I’m happy to announce that our new captain will be none other than Michelle Jones.”

Harrington continued his announcements, but you already stopped paying attention. You nudge MJ after the scattered applause, mouth still agape.

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna be captain. Congrats!” you whispered.

“Well, to be honest, I didn’t know until just now. But I would have been pissed if I wasn’t.”

“And I would’ve had to listen to you complain about it, so it’s a win-win… can your first order be to rearrange the seating? I love Cindy, but sometimes she smells after gym.”

MJ scoffs. “Done, but it’s your fault if this all goes to my head.”

“Oh, I think it already has,”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Just be quiet so I can listen.”

You roll your eyes as you let her turn away from you, grabbing your phone in the process.

You: Guess who the new captain is…

Liz: It better be MJ, I put in a good word for her and everything

You: It is lol. Good choice by the way, she’ll probably be a better captain than you

Liz: whatever 🙄

In the past month since she moved, the two of you found comfort in one another. Both of you fell in the direct line of fire, and as brutal as that was, it also meant that you weren’t alone.

+++

Lately, it seemed that your timing was nothing if not impeccable.

You speed walk to the cafeteria, breath getting heavier with each step. You’re usually one of the first in there, trying your best to beat the rush of students, but you just had to go to the bathroom beforehand. Amateur move, honestly…

Once you turn the corner, you stop in your tracks. Just ahead was Liz and her mom, both with boxes in hand. Her mom takes a right, most likely heading toward the office. All that was left was you and her, and the ten feet of tile in between.

“Hey,” you call out, gaining her attention. A tint of regret coats the air around you as you walk closer.

Where do you start, after everything that has happened?

“Liz, hey. What’s up?”

“Oh, hey. Nothing much, I’m just packing things from my locker and whatnot. My mom’s grabbing my file from the office, and after that we should be good, or whatever.” She sighs, looking down at her things.

“Wait, packing? Are you… are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, my dad doesn’t want us to see him in trial. We’re moving all the way to Oregon tomorrow. My mom has family there… nice area apparently, or whatever,” She purses her lips. “New York allows prisoners to call as often as they want, so no worries there, plus I’m all set for college so I can more or less breeze through senior year.”

You nod. Though you suppose the situation could have been worse, it was evident that Liz was hiding all the struggles she just got handed. Maybe if you were closer, you’d be able to comfort her, or tell her what she needed to hear.

“Liz, you’ve probably gotten this a lot, but I’m really sorry about what went down. I can’t even imagine what that’s like.”

There’s a pause before she finds your face again. “I think you do though. Maybe not exactly the same as me, but you were part of this too.”

You tilt your head, confused at her words. Setting her things down, she slings her backpack around to her front, unzipping it to find what she was looking for. “Peter left this in my dad’s car, but something tells me it was meant for someone else. It’s a little wilted now, but I still think it looks nice.”

In her hand was the rose that Peter had the night of the homecoming dance. You were so annoyed when you saw it. However, this time was different. You were not sure what you felt, but you were grateful nonetheless.

You take the flower from her, admiring the purple-red petals. Underneath, a card was tied around:

A rose for a rose.

You might not be my date, but can I SWING BY for a dance?

You let out a quiet scoff. If the pun didn’t give it away, the web doodles might have.

“You think I would’ve figured it out sooner,” Liz shrugged.

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t realize until it was right in front of my face," you joked back, earning a smile.

“I won’t tell anyone, by the way. He was just trying to do the right thing, and it’s not my secret to tell anyways.”

You nod at the gesture, relieved that things were not getting any messier. Not as much as they could, at least.

“I’m sorry too by the way…” she starts. “if I got in the way of you and Peter.”

You shake your head. “No no, it’s fine. Really. That was Peter’s choice to do that. I even told you we weren’t soulmates, so…“

“Yeah, well, I could tell that wasn’t the whole truth. Or at least, I couldn’t believe that it was the truth.” When you don’t reply, she continues on. “Obviously, I don’t know the whole story, or maybe even half of it, but almost everyone thought you two were soulmates before you even said anything. That’s gotta mean something, right?”

You pause for a moment. For someone who was only two years older, she was a lot wiser than you imagined. “Yeah, maybe it does… I don’t know, it’s just so complicated, you know?”

“I can only imagine.” She offers a smile. “But assuming he’s okay, wherever he is, I think it’d be a lot less complicated if you were in it together.”

With that, the conversation seemed to be over. You both knew that you weren’t really friends, but there was still a connection there. What happened homecoming night created a bond between you, a burning ember in a pile of ash. Everything died down, but there are still remnants that continued to burn.

If you guys chose to, you could let that memory die with the rest of the fire. But you could also choose to keep it alive and learn something from it.

Liz clears her throat, breaking the silence. “Looks like my mom’s ready, so I should go catch up. Thanks for saying goodbye.”

“Well, thanks for the mini therapy session. Hopefully, Oregon treats you better. If you wanna, you can text me once you’re all settled. We can talk, or whatever you want, really. Doesn’t even have to be about this.”

Her eyes light up at the offer, surprised at the generosity. “Yeah. I’d really like that. Thanks.”

You watch as she grabs her stuff from the floor and walk down the hall. The two of you send each other one last wave before parting ways, but you don’t move from your spot. Not until she was fully out of sight.

When she’s completely gone, you think about her words again. Maybe it would be easier.

Or maybe it’s just a faster route to trouble.

---

“You, me, Catacombs of Paris. It’s been on my list for years, and we are not missing out on that.” MJ declares, interrupting your daze. You didn’t even realize the meeting was over, most of the group already filing out of the library. “Jeez, how deep was your conversation with your pen pal? You look like you just woke up.”

You huff as you stood up from your seat. “How do you even know it’s her? Could’ve been my mom checking up on me.”

“Well, whenever you and Liz text, which is pretty regularly now, you get that weird crease between your eyebrows, and something tells me you’re not thinking that hard when you’re answering, ‘how are you’ from your parents.”

“You know, I think someone’s a little jealous that I have other girl friends to talk to.” You joke, checking her shoulder. “Any other creepy spots you’re forcing me to go to?”

Your friend’s face lights up, relishing at the opportunity to talk about her interests. You knew she had hours' worth of knowledge on the subject, and it gave you the chance to avoid talking about yourself. It wasn’t easy to distract MJ, but you had your ways.

It was easy to distract yourself from your current situation with Liz. After all, she was more or less doing the same thing. Your relationship was symbiotic; One of you would talk about your problems so the other could take their focus away from theirs, and vice versa. Mutual therapy, as you both called it.

The bonding made you feel safe. You made a friend and found someone that would need time to heal too.

At least, that’s what you thought.

For the last few conversations or so, the tone has taken a rather lighthearted turn. Liz started her new semester at Oregon a week earlier than Midtown, and she was already coming for the title of Ms. Popular. Though, with her being a hot, new senior, you shouldn’t have been surprised.

She was using her mom’s name for more privacy and was basically starting fresh. Liz even said she could still go to NYU if things died down after the trial. You were ecstatic for her, of course. She was incredibly strong for taking her life into her own hands and making the best of what happened, yet deep down you still couldn’t help but feel frustrated. In the end, even the people that have it worse still find ways to turn it around.

Your stomach turns. Maybe it wasn’t time that was the issue.

Maybe it was you.

---

Life’s kind of funny. Less than a year ago, you thought meeting the Avengers would be impossible. The only time you ever saw them was on the news or some badly edited PSA. For you, they seemed more fictional rather than real.

Now here you were, in the same car that Tony freaking Stark uses, being driven to the one and only Avengers Facility.

Despite the news about the Sokovia Accords, and the infamous “Civil War”, as they coined it, the building continued to stand tall and proud. The squeaky-clean windows and trimmed hedges were simply another reminder of how this lifestyle was beyond you.

Peter has been staying here for the past few weeks so the doctors could track his progress in private. With his mutated DNA and dangerous alien technology, they wanted to make sure there was not any permanent damage to his systems. Though this caused him to miss the rest of the semester, he knew it was for the best.

Despite taking a nasty hit, his super healing got him back on his feet, more or less. Just a few hours of physical therapy and some tests were enough to get Peter back to full mobility. However, he was still advised by the doctors to take things slow. Just because he could move doesn’t mean he should so soon.

This was the fourth or so trip here, yet every visit still felt like the first. All of this was so overwhelming, but you try not to let it show as you walk through the glass door. When you couldn’t find Peter in his room, your panic started to become visible.

Finding one guy in a 300,000 square foot building? How hard could it be?

Answer: not impossible, but still rather embarrassing.

After a few wrong turns here and there, you eventually made it to what seemed to be your destination. You wound up in a gym twice the size of your school’s. It had every piece of equipment one could need to train for a life-or-death mission, and you were struck with awe once again.

Your attention quickly focuses on the sounds of leather on leather. Across the gym was a boxing ring, holding none other than Tony Stark and your best friend.

The two didn’t notice you yet, so you took your time heading closer. Peter was in deep focus, his grey shirt tightening around him every time he threw a punch. Sweat covered the top half of the fabric as his curls brushed his forehead, and you could feel your throat drying up at his appearance.

You would have shown up earlier all those other times if you meant you got to see this…

“Y/N! Hey!” Peter greets when he finally sees you. “Sorry, I should’ve texted you that I was still in here. Guess I lost track of time.”

You wave it off. “Don’t worry about it. Looked like you were doing some good work.”

“Yeah, I sure hope so. Did you know the only fighting knowledge he had before this was from movies?” Tony interrupted, pointing a glove at the guilty party.

“Hey c’mon, Rocky is a solid resource,” He defended. “You ever seen it?”

The billionaire paused, mentally going through the five stages of grief. “Yeah kid, I think we’re done here. He’s all yours.”

“Sounds good,” You respond, turning back to Peter. “Something tells me you might need to freshen up before we start studying, so I’ll just meet you in your room. If I can find it, that is…”

The boy nods, feeling extra gross and sticky now that you brought it up. You send the two a small wave before walking out of the gym, trying your best to retrace your steps. Peter watches you until you vanish, to which Tony raises an eyebrow.

Maybe it was just him, but the spiderling was rather obvious with his emotions.

“Normally I’d say, ‘don’t do anything I wouldn’t do’, but clearly you don’t listen to that,” He says, snapping Peter back into reality. “Just keep it in your room, alright? Last thing I need is to spray this whole place with disinfectant.”

Peter’s mouth parts, slightly uncomfortable at his mentor’s words. “What? No, it’s not like that at all. She’s just helping me with all the schoolwork I’ve missed.”

Tony immediately stops, punching pads half on. “That- that’s it? You get a second chance at life, and all you’re doing is studying?”

He shrugs. “Well, you know, I haven’t taken my finals yet-“

“Finals that you can pass if you just study the night before like a normal kid.” He walks closer to Peter. “You escape the jaws of death and the one thing you want to do is study? What happened to you teenagers and wanting to ‘live a little’?” He mumbles the last part, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t use this experience as an excuse to shy away. I’m not saying go off and be reckless, but at least have a little fun, yeah? Do what you want.”

From one man who had a near-death experience (or several) to another, maybe he had a point. But then again, if you try to sacrifice yourself multiple times, you must be more than okay with the thought of leaving this world and the people you care about.

Tony finally finishes packing up, while Peter was still in the ring, contemplating.

“She’s a good one,” he shouts to the boy, getting his attention. “Might even like her more than you.” He pauses, realizing how that sounded. “No offense, of course.”

The boy’s face sours as Tony keeps walking. “Some taken… oh and hey! I know it was you that paid for the Europe trip!”

“Nope! Wrong billionaire!” He swings the door open, turning around to look at Peter. “But uh, I think there’s a light festival the same weekend you’re in Prague. You should check it out.”

“Uh-huh…” he grins, playing along.

+++

Thanks to his powers, Peter’s hands always got extra sticky when he was nervous. So, when Mr. Stark called him to come to his office a week or so after the incident, he tried his best to keep his hands to himself.

“Hey, Mr. Stark. You wanted to see me or something?” he asked, awkwardly shuffling through the door.

Tony looks up from his phone and nods at Peter. “Kid, hey. How you feelin’?”

“Oh, well I’m actually doing pretty goo-“

“That’s great,” Tony interrupts. “Anyways, here you go.”

He slides a paper bag toward the boy, to which Peter responds by checking his surroundings. Was this a test? Because there are some major drug deal vibes happening right now.

“What the heck are you doing, kid? Just take the damn bag.”

Peter snaps back to the man and quickly snatches it off the desk. He peeks inside and is shocked when he sees the bright red and blue suit. He clutches the bag closer, afraid it would be stripped away from him a second time.

“You- you’re giving it back to me?” Peter grins.

“Well, it didn’t really teach you anything when I took it away, so I might as well just give it back. Plus, your other one looks ridiculous compared to this.”

His smile falls a little, and Tony quickly backtracks for clarification.

“What I mean is that you did good work. I didn’t believe in you after the ferry incident, but you were determined. You followed your heart and ended up catching the guy. However, you also ended up getting shish kabobbed and almost died, which isn’t as good.” Stark mumbles the last part, getting a little off track. “I told you before that if something happened to you, that it would be on me. But if you won’t listen to me then… I guess I have to mentor you, and make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Peter’s eyes widen. “As in…”

“Training every morning. We can practice using all your suit’s abilities along with combat in case you’re stuck without it. We’ll track your health and progress to make sure you’re not pushing it. Last thing we need is you showing off and hurting yourself.”

“Yeah, got it.” He replies, mouth agape. “I- thank you, Mr. Stark.”

He couldn’t believe it. This was all happening so fast. A few days ago, he thought he was supposed to be dead on the sidewalk. Now, everything seemed to be going well. Maybe too well? How was Mr. Stark so calm about it?

“Well, to be honest, you shouldn’t be thanking me. It was your girlfriend that pretty much convinced me to do this. Y/N or something?”

He cocks his head. “Wait, Y/N? What do you mean?”

“We met at the hospital when you were under surgery.” He shrugs. “Kept telling me how you were a good kid who was going to help the city at all costs, that you were soulmates and this was doomed to happen, you should get another chance, etcetera etcetera,” He dismisses with his hands. “It was pretty moving, really. She really believes in you, so I thought I should do the same.”

Peter tries to keep a neutral face, but this information made his mind go even faster than before. You never mentioned that you met Mr. Stark, much less had an actual conversation with him. With all the crap he’s pulled on you, you still said all that. And to an Avenger, no less.

He doesn’t comment about Mr. Stark’s confession, only giving him another thanks followed with a goodbye. From the looks of it, Tony was rather done with the conversation anyways. He leaves as awkwardly as he came in.

As Peter walks back to his room, he notices the air around him feels lighter. Fresher, even. He smiles at the thought.

For the first time, in a very long time, Peter was optimistic for the future.

---

Never mind, maybe he should have died that night.

Studying was a far worse punishment.

Peter groans and buries his face deeper into his pillow, a string of obscenities following shortly after. You turn and frown at the sight. Sure, you weren’t any better during finals week, but this was just sad.

“C’mon dude,” you said as you shook his shoulder. “Get up. We’re almost done with this.”

He groans louder at your comment. “Too much work. Math isn’t even real.”

You shake your head in amusement. “Yeah okay. Tell that to Gonzales, I’m sure you’ll keep your number two spot after that.” You snort, not registering Peter’s shock as he propped himself up.

“Two? Don’t you mean one?”

Shit. “I mean, not exactly. Finals week happened a little bit ago. Grades change, you know?”

“Okay…” He gives you a look. “Well, then who scored high enough to beat me?”

Your lips tighten, but your silence, in turn, answers his question.

“No…” Peter realizes. “You- no��.”

“Pete-“

“You’re first now? You took my freaking spot?”

Your mouth hangs open trying to think of a proper response and your friend scoffs. “Wow,” he says, shaking his head. “After all this time, I didn’t realize my best friend would become my enemy. Now I actually have to try.”

“Ouch. A nice congrats or something would have been nice, you know,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “Whatever, at least I’m being nice and trying to help.”

“Help? Or sabotage?” Peter smirks, sitting up. Stiff from his previous meltdown position, he clasps his hands together and stretches his arms upward. He doesn’t get very far before he flinches back down, hands now gripping his side as he quietly whimpers.

You immediately assume the worst as you turn closer to Peter, but he shakes his head, a sign telling you it’s nothing serious. He takes a few more deep breaths before looking at you, now sheepish.

“Sorry bout that. I think I overdid today,” he explained, gently rubbing his abdomen.

“Peter…” you pout. “Thought the whole point of you being here was so that you wouldn’t overdo it.”

“Yeah yeah, I know. I didn’t think a late-night workout would cause too much trouble,” he says, and your eyebrows furrow, disappointment evident. Peter slumps further down, throwing his hands up. “I won’t do it again, okay? It’s my last weekend here, anyways. I’ll take it easy for the next few days. Promise.” He then offers his pinkie to you, and you accept it with a sigh.

Your eyes wander down his chest, stopping at the top of his waist. You’ve never actually seen it, the wound and the scar that it left. At least, not since the incident. Your chest tightens at the thought. It was so bloody, and dirty, and just plain gross.

It was supposed to be the end of him, the end of everything you had. And now here he was, studying for a calculus test.

How was all that a month ago?

“Does it always hurt?” you ask before you could stop yourself. Peter follows your stare before looking at you again.

“Nah, just sometimes,” he starts with a small shrug. “It’s usually a dull ache every now and then, but it hurts more right now, cause, you know…” He looks away in shame. “Speaking of, I need to put this cream stuff on before I forget, supposed to keep it clean and help with the healing. I forgot to put it on after training.” He leans forward to grab the tube off his desk, and you could tell the easy motion was rather painful.

“I could do it if you want,” you offer, eyes widening immediately afterward. The two of you have been keeping physical distance between one another, and now here you were, basically asking to caress him. “I mean- if you think it would be easier.”

He takes a moment to think before giving a small nod, not saying anything as he hands you the cream. You both seem unsure of this, but you slowly grab the tube anyways. You take your time unscrewing the cap, giving Peter a chance to change his mind. When you look back up, he’s already staring at you, waiting for your next move.

You scooch closer toward Peter, and the air starts to get thicker. Tense. One wrong move could ruin this whole thing. You cringe at the thought. It’s not that deep, you tried to rationalize.

But this was Peter. Every small action meant something more.

Fisting the bottom of his t-shirt, you bring it to his chest to reveal the scar. You let out a shaky breath, looking at the newly exposed skin. It was the same as the last time you saw it: You could still see the tinges of pink under the lights, and his chest was still firm. But now all that was blemished with a horrid red line on his right.

That fucking scar. If looks could kill, your stare could probably reopen the wound that was once there. It makes you so frustrated to know the memory still stains his body. Peter once mentioned that his powers speed up his healing process, but marks like these last a lifetime for normal people, so you imagined that if it were to go away, it wouldn’t be for years.

You shake the thoughts from your head as you squeeze the cream onto your fingers, using your thumb to warm it up. Shifting your weight forward, you lean in even closer to him and gently touch Peter’s skin. The contact causes him to tense at first, but he eventually softens under your touch as you massage in the substance.

Peter doesn’t take his eyes off you. He watches how softly your fingers graze his scar, and how his skin was burning at the contact. It reminds him of that weekend: The hungry kisses, the skin on skin after you took your shirts off. Even when you were pulling him for more, you were never rough. You let him dip his toes first, making sure he was doing what he wanted.

Mr. Stark’s words come back to him. Live a little… have some fun… do what you want…

And right now, Peter thinks he wants more.

He sits up straighter (or at least as much as he could) and brings his hand up toward you, tracing your jaw with his fingertips. His thumb rubs the center of your cheek, bringing your focus away from his scar. You don’t realize how close the two of you are until you face him again. Peter’s stare flickers between your eyes and mouth, and you swallow hard. Though his touch was warm, your mind was frozen.

Were you supposed to do something? What did Peter want? Your questions were soon answered as he started to close the distance between you, ever so slowly. And though a part of you wanted to meet him halfway, memories cloud your head.

Blood.

Rubble.

Tears.

Peter holding on for dear life.

Fear shooting through your veins.

With a sharp inhale, you put your weight on your palms and back away. Peter stays where he is, his body a few seconds behind. After a few seconds, he lowers his hand down as concern floods his eyes.

“I- I should go,” you announce. Pushing yourself off the bed, you quickly pack your stuff away, not bothering to check if you got everything.

“I thought we were going to study more-“

“Just look up some practice problems online and you should be good. The curve helps a lot too.” You zip your backpack. “You’ll be fine without me.”

Peter fumbles for an excuse. “Well, it’s getting late, though. Wouldn’t you rather spend the night like last weekend?”

“No, it’s cool. Happy said they always have a driver on call just in case. Might as well put use them,” you shrug. “Anyways, bye!”

You quickly slam the door behind you, and Peter cringes at the sound. What the hell just happened? He brings his palms to his eyes with a heavy sigh. The last thing he wanted was for things to be awkward, yet he still managed to drive you out of his room and onto a two-hour car ride instead. Did he misread the situation that bad?

Meanwhile, you were still on the other side of the door, eyes wide. Did you really just do that? You were always so upset when Peter didn’t communicate with you, but now you were no better. You turn back to face the door, hand on the doorknob, yet the turn never came. Eventually, you let go and back away, and pull out your phone before turning the corner and out of the hallway.

At that same moment, Peter decided to stand up and follow you. Even if you wanted to leave, he didn’t want all his feelings to go unsaid. He pushes through the soreness and reaches the door, yanking it open.

He sticks his head out into the hall, but he doesn’t see you. Peter’s frame shrinks. A big part of him wanted to chase you, to see if he could catch up before you had the chance to go, but if you were already so far gone, it must be for a reason. With a frown, he slowly shuts his door, hoping that maybe you’ll come back before the click.

You never do.

Sleep never comes to you that night, thoughts about a brown-haired superhero circling your head. You knew that leaving was not the best idea. And not turning back when you had the chance was also not the greatest call. But at that moment, the idea of confronting your fears and worries seemed so much worse.

Grabbing your pillow, you smother yourself as you let out a quiet scream. By the time you uncover your face, you can already see the sun.

---

Neither of you mentions that night. Not that you were purposely avoiding the topic. In fact, you wanted to apologize for your abrupt exit, and maybe talk about what was going on between you two, but there was never a good time to do so.

Peter’s reappearance was not going as smooth as you thought it would. No offense to the boy, but you didn’t think many people would notice he was gone. But with the lack of Spider-Man sightings, and all the chaos surrounding homecoming weekend, people were chatty.

The first day he came back to school, Flash kept asking what happened to the friendly neighborhood hero. Poor Peter tried his best to blubber an excuse about him having a mission out of the country, but that just confused his classmates even more.

Others were asking why he missed all those weeks of school, which caused him to create an elaborate lie about having an extended family in Europe. It took everything for MJ not to outright laugh at the scene, which you later scolded her about.

Combine that and all the work he needs to catch up on, you thought it would be best to wait a little longer.

Eventually, Friday rolls around and all of you have survived another week. You, Peter, Ned, and MJ were talking around your locker before school when Ned claps his hands together, a lightbulb turning on in his head.

“Oh, dude! Now that we’re all here, we should all play some D&D!” He grins, getting giddier by the second. “We finally have a good amount of people, plus it’ll be a good way to have Betty get to know you all better as a group. I got this new book for Christmas and I’ve been planning a campaign for weeks. Spoiler alert: it’s awesome!” He quickly spits out, looking toward the group for a response.

Turns out Betty and Ned were soulmates, though no one knew until recently. Except for MJ, of course. When she gossiped about it homecoming night, Ned spilled all the beans.

They found out a few weeks after D.C., but though the two of them were pleased with the pairing, Betty didn’t feel ready to go into a relationship. Ned was accepting of this, being the sweetie he is, and the two of them are slowly building a friendship, though they are quite affectionate with one another. It was adorable, and slightly jealousy-inducing all at once.

MJ crinkles her nose. “I suppose I could try it. No promises that I’ll enjoy it, though.”

Ned, Peter, and you all stare at one another before bursting into laughter. Your amusement confuses MJ, but she doesn’t interrupt the moment.

“Oh Michelle,” you begin, grabbing her by the shoulder. “You are in for a world of fun.”

“Does that mean you’re in?” Ned points to you.

“Of course, dude! You’re the best Dungeon Master around. That, and your mom always has tons of snacks for us whenever we play.”

“I’ll take what I can get, I guess,” he scoffs. “Should we plan for tomorrow or something? I need to add a few more details and Betty should be free then too.”

“I’m good.”

“Same here.”

“Actually, I can’t. I’m busy.”

The three of you turn to Peter, who shrinks down in size and offers a shy smile.

“C’mon Pete. I get you have a lot of catching up to do but I’m sure a small game break wouldn’t kill you,” you said.

“No no, I get that.” He shakes his head. “It’s just that I was gonna start patrolling this weekend… “ he explains, and your blood runs cold. “But you guys go on and play without me, I promise to join next time.”

Ned nods, the three of them continuing to talk like normal, but you stay silent, keeping your eyes in Peter’s direction. Patrolling? How come he never told you about this?

It’s five minutes before class when MJ and Ned decide to leave, heading to their first period history together. Peter decides to go to class too, but you grab his arm before he gets the chance to turn away.

“Are you seriously going out? What happened to taking it easy?” you hissed. Though your tone was rather snippy, deep down you were terrified for Peter. Sure, he was fine now, maybe even better with all his training, but was he ready to go back out?

Were you ready for him to go back out?

“I’ve been taking it easy for a week, and people are starting to get suspicious. I don’t know if I can make it through another one of Flash’s confrontations without getting caught,” he sighs. “Look, can we just talk about this later? Class is about to start.”

You scoff. “You’re just trying to avoid the subject.”

“No, I’m not. I just don’t want to hear you lecture me when I’m already heading to one. And besides, I already know what you’re gonna say so what does it matter?”

“You literally just described ‘avoiding the subject’,” you bite back, concern turning into frustration. “Nothing good happens when we don’t talk, Pete.”

“Oh really? Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah dude, I’m pretty sure. That’s kinda how a friendship works.”

“Right. Friendship…” A pause. Peter’s face hardens as he looks at you. “Fine, let’s talk: why didn’t you kiss me?” he asks, jaw clenched.

Your hand lets go of his arm and falls slack. When you said you wanted to bring up the almost-kiss, you didn’t mean now. Why was he turning this on you?

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, if I can’t avoid the subject, then you can’t either.”

You shake your head. This was not the time to talk about this. He takes your silence as an answer and moves a step back.

“I’m going out. Tonight,” he announces. “I’m not waiting around.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply before he turns around and walks away. The action surprises you; Peter was never the one to walk away. If he was, it was because there was a danger that he needed to tend to.

This time, he willingly chose to.

You mull over what he said before he left. I’m not waiting around. He said it with such conviction. It almost sounded like he wasn’t talking about Spider-Man.

He was talking about you.

+++

You didn’t realize the Avengers had their own private hospital section, but considering their job description, you shouldn’t be surprised.

The stale, air-conditioned air of the hospital welcomed you the minute you entered. Goosebumps prickled your exposed arms as the atmosphere around you shifted.

Yeah, you really didn’t like hospitals. Especially now.

The nurses didn’t know anything of you or your involvement either, so they couldn’t let you go past the designated waiting room, leaving you all alone in a stuffy room. You’ve been staring at the fish tank for the last five minutes, waiting for someone to at least come in and talk to you.

Ugh, fuck this.

You texted MJ and Ned the news about Peter, which was a rather chaotic conversation. You promised you would let them know the whole story soon, but now didn’t feel like the time. Not when your other half may or may not be alive.

When you left the school, Ned spammed Stark Industries with emergency messages, which finally got Tony Stark’s attention. You overheard some nurses at the desk talking, and apparently, he was somewhere in the building, talking down a woman. You had no doubt that it was May.

God, if you thought you’ve been through it, you couldn’t imagine how she felt. To find out your nephew, who was basically your son, is a crime-fighting superhero is one thing. To find out he was almost killed and is currently fighting for his life all in one night is another. You were surprised her head didn’t explode right then and there.

Another ten minutes pass by before May comes out from the patient area, eyes red and completely distraught. Tony Stark was close behind her, holding the door open as May’s crouched figure passes through.

You stare at the two of them and accidentally make eye contact with the billionaire. He sends you a nod before heading back to the hospital rooms, like it was the only safe thing to do. The anger from before quickly disappeared; at least you weren’t the only one in shock.

“Oh, Y/N,” May says when she spots you. “I didn’t know you’d be here. It’s super late, I think it’s safer if you went back home. I don’t want your parents to worry. Do you need me to call and talk to them? I can take you home if you need me to.”

“May, you don’t-“

“I mean it’s probably best if I go do something. I don’t think I can sit here for very long without pulling my hair out.”

“May-“

“This is all just hitting me so hard. I mean, how did I not even realize this? I feel so stupid. God, the nerve of Tony to pull this. I should have never trusted him-“

“It’s my fault, May.” You snap, ceasing her rambles. “I did this… I fucking caused all of this. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do and one thing led to another and… I killed him. I killed Peter. I am so sorry, May. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

May doesn’t respond right away, still processing everything you said. Her shoulders slump down slightly as she cocks her head. Out of all the news she got tonight, this one confused her the most. But as she focused on you and your shivering body, she realized she wasn’t the only one that had a rough night.

She takes your hands. “Let’s talk, alright?”

The next fifteen minutes were spent by you blubbering about everything. The soulmate memory, his Spider-Man secret, how you tried to keep apart, and how you found him downtown. You skip over the rather intimate parts, knowing it was probably not going to help May. Your face is red and splotchy by the end of it, and a handful of tissues covered the small table next to you.

May doesn’t say a word until you’re done. Though a nice gesture, her silence was more due to her complete shock.

“I am so fucking sorry, May,” you whisper at the end. “I should have told you, or someone, at least. It’s just that, it was Peter’s life on the line. I didn’t want to do anything and hurt him. I thought it was best if he made the call, but look where that got us.” You wipe your eyes and look away. The guilt was unbearable. May was nothing but caring to you, and you repay her by killing her nephew.

“God... I knew Peter was having a rough time, I always heard him at weird hours of the night, but I thought it was just school or something. I’ve always checked on him, but he would always say he’s busy.” She shakes her head. “I don’t blame you, though. I mean, I’m not exactly happy this all went down the way it did, but I can’t be mad at you for at least trying to save him, even when it hurt to.”

You sniffle at her words, trying to suppress any more tears. “He still got hurt, though. Peter being my soulmate cost him his life…” you whisper the last word.

May offers a sympathetic smile as she smooths your hair. “You know, people say the reason for soulmates is to be with someone you love forever, but it never takes into account some people’s forever is shorter than others,” she explains. “When Ben died… I was so angry at the world. Why give me this amazing person if I only got them for a short time? Sure, the world can give me another soulmate or something, but it almost defeats the purpose… makes it seem that I had to have this one soulmate before I had to a ‘real’ soulmate. Even after all this time, part of me will always want him…

“But even if Ben isn’t with me forever, I was with him for his forever, and I found a way to be okay with that. I gave him all the love I possibly could have, and I have no doubt in my head that it was worth it.”

You smile and nod at her words, but she could tell you weren’t completely getting the point. “You and Peter are great together, friendship or more. There’s no way he regrets spending his time with you, and I don’t think you do either. The two of you always had something special. Don’t push away from that, even if it might seem easier.”

You find May’s hands and give a firm squeeze, a silent way of saying thanks. For months, you have been trying to go for easy: less drama, fewer risks… but it was still a whole lot of pain. And for what? Never getting to be with your best friend in the way you truly wanted? May made it seem like the choice was obvious, and you wondered if it actually was.

A few quiet minutes pass until Tony Stark steps into the waiting room and approaches the two of you. You and May quickly stand up, waiting for the worst. You already experienced Peter’s “death”, you didn’t need to go through it again, especially if it’s real this time.

“Is he going to be okay?” May quickly asks, hands close to her chest, protecting herself from any hidden blows.

Tony’s mouth tightens before answering. “More or less…” he starts, looking down before continuing. “The wound was deep, and if he couldn’t heal as fast as he could, this would be a different story. However, it was still caused by dangerous, alien hybrid technology and he was already in a rough state prior to the… stab.” He cringes at the word. “Scrapes and bruises, a broken rib, some significant brain injury… Dr. Cho is doing the best she can, but as of right now, he’s in a comatose state.”

You gulp at the news. “So, what does that mean? When will he wake up?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“But- but he will wake up, right?” you clarify.

A pause. Tony’s jaw ticks. His eyes quickly leave you before blinking and meeting yours again, but you notice it. The doubt behind them.

“I don’t know…”

---

It’s almost midnight, which means you’ve spent the whole night worrying.

You were out on the fire escape freezing your ass off. It would only take ten steps maximum to grab something warm, but the bite of the wind kept you alert.

You weren’t going to leave until you knew Peter was safe.

He barely talked to you since this morning. He sat near Ned at lunch instead of you and took different routes to class. You texted him a few times throughout the day, but he never replied.

So, when you sent a message checking in on him with no response back, you weren’t sure if it was him ignoring you or that he was in danger. You let out a sigh of worry as your breath dissolved into the night.

You never realized how nice your view was. The most use your window got was when Peter came in, but that hasn’t happened for months. It’s crazy that you consider that a simpler time in your relationship.

Your ears focus on the sounds of the city. The bustling noises often brought you comfort, knowing that there were thousands of people going through the motions of life. Tonight, however, it sent a feeling of loneliness to your veins. New York kept going on while you were wallowing and worrying. It didn’t need you, even though you needed them.

A sudden urge to cry makes your throat tightens. You really hope that Peter was alright.

When you check the time again, you saw that a new day began. You decide to shove your phone back in your pocket. Watching the clock every ten seconds wasn’t going to help.

You sigh, maybe you’ll feel different today. Maybe you’ll feel warmer because holy shit is it cold outside. At what temperature does hypothermia kick in? That seems like a question to Google, not experiment.

You’re about to turn back when you hear a soft thwip, and a Peter hanging outside down on the stairs. You weren’t too sure how he was feeling at the moment, his covered eyes not giving any hints, but you send a soft smile nonetheless.

“I’m not a damsel in distress if that’s what you’re thinking,” you break the ice.

Peter turns himself right side up, taking a seat on the railing next to you. He pulls his mask off and drops it in his lap, and you can see his face isn’t as icy as this morning. But his mouth was pulled tight, unsure how to go about this.

“I’d consider frostbite to be a crime,” he shrugs. Luckily, you had your window open this whole time. With a quick webshot, Peter sticks and catches the sweater hanging on your chair before offering it to you. “Especially if Spider-Man can stop it.”

You bite your cheek. Part of you didn’t want to give in, but there was no way you could last another minute out here. Slowly, you grabbed your sweater, your fingers grazing the fabric of his suit. A way of saying thank you.

“Slow day?” you ask, pulling the sweater over your head. The extra layer was already warming you up, and your body relaxes a little.

“Well, considering the biggest thing I did today was helping tourists find their way to the subway, I’ll let you figure that out,” he laughs. “Though I suppose some good work is better than no work at all. At least the city knows I’m back.”

Peter realizes that the last sentence wasn’t a good idea, your face slightly dropping at his words. He tries to keep talking in hopes of distracting you. “So uh, any reason why you’re out here tonight?”

“I was waiting for you. Couldn’t sleep until I knew you were safe, I guess.” you sigh, looking back at the skyline. “I also wanted to apologize, for how I reacted. Even if I didn’t agree with you, I could have at least listened to you.”

Peter awkwardly nods, guilt surfacing at your confession. “I mean, I could have done the same thing too. I was so focused on the dumb rumors I let Flash get into my head. That was my first mistake,” he jokes, causing you to snort. “I’m not trying to get into myself into any death matches anytime soon, but I still want to help out, you know?”

“Always the hero… I learned that back in D.C.,” you sigh. “I guess I’m still trying to figure things out. Everything just feels weird right now, and I don’t think I’m making it any easier.”

He doesn’t say anything and faces back toward the city. He takes a breath of the city, smelling the mix of laundry detergent from your apartment basement and the exhaust from the streets.

For all his life, Peter was dedicated to New York. He loved going to the museums with May and Ben; he always tried to pay street performers with whatever spare change he had in his pocket; he rolled his eyes every time someone brought up New Jersey; most importantly, he wouldn’t take off the suit until he knew his home was safe, even if it was almost morning.

He’s done everything he could to protect his neighborhood and the people who need it most, yet he feels… almost distant from it all. As if Peter was trying to find something more to it. A faint memory passes through his head- what did Ben use to say all those years ago? Something like, “home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling”?

Peter’s brain sticks to the thought.

Suddenly, the last month hits him.

“I thought of you,” he starts, still looking out into the night. “When it happened, all I could think about was you.”

Your face softens as the beating of your heart becomes audible.

“I was so… angry about it all. I was so pissed off at myself. Even if I knew that was gonna happen, even if I knew or thought I guess, that that was the end, I was an idiot for not spending my time with you. I should’ve used whatever time I had trying to be something more to you, instead of pushing away what we already had. At least if I did die, I would be at peace with everything,” he chokes up a little at the end. “You’re my best friend, and one that somehow gets me. This place is my home and I’d do anything for it.” He turns his head closer. “But it’s nothing without you. Life feels complicated, it’s always been complicated… but I think it’d be easier if we were in it together.”

You bite your lip and pick at the skin. They’ve been chapped since you came out, but it didn’t stop you from using it to cope with your nerves. Peter was laying it all out on the table, and you were the one left silent.

“You don’t have to tell me why we didn’t kiss, it’s completely understandable if you rather just let it go. I’ve pushed you away too many times, it’s only fair you get to do the same at least once. But I want you to know this.” His eyes were bright under the moonlight.

The last hurrah.

“I would keep you in any possible way I could. I told myself that I need to be able to do what I want, and I want you, for however long I can get you,” he sighs. “If you’re not ready for that, okay. If you never want that- fuck – that’s okay too. I love you. I will always love you,” he says, passion dripping from his words and into your heart. “If you could wait for me, I can wait for you too. Whenever you’re ready, just say when. I don’t care what I’m doing, or where I am, I’m always going to be here with you. Even if you don’t want me, I’ll be here.”

I’ll be here…

+++

It took five days for Peter to wake up.

Five days of nonstop worrying and utter stress. Five days of you traveling to the hospital first thing after school until your parents texted you to come home. Five days of you not sleeping because you were waiting for the call, and you had no idea what to expect when it did.

The first day was somewhat bearable. May and you slept in the waiting room that night, and when you woke up, which was about four hours later, she took you home. Sitting in a sticky, vinyl chair was not helping you, and if May had to wait there for another minute, she was afraid she’d have another meltdown.

You were still a little numb from it all by the time you got back. It wasn’t until almost midnight that you started to realize, oh shit, you don’t know when Peter will wake up. If… he’ll ever wake up.

That first night you cried in your bed until the morning. Your face was swollen for the rest of the day, and when your parents came back on the second day, they were panicking that you had an allergic reaction.

You told May not to tell them. They didn’t need to know, and they didn’t need to coddle and worry about you. May, who didn’t exactly think it was a good idea, reluctantly agreed anyways. So, when your parents were fussing about your appearance, you laughed it off and told them you watched The Notebook the night before with some friends.

It was just easier that way.

The second day was spent with you wallowing in your room, waiting by your phone for something. May told you she would keep you updated and that you shouldn’t worry, which both of you knew was just empty advice. Hearing nothing was just as bad as hearing something.

Later that day, MJ sent a few news articles about the Vulture and his arrest. Apparently, his suit gave out not too long after he left the scene, causing him to suffer some internal injuries and harsh burns. He got caught by Stark Industries and was arrested quickly after, and is currently awaiting trial. It was likely that Adrian Toomes would be under bars for a while, and that brought you both relief and guilt as you tried to sleep.

The third day sent you to school, and at least gave you something to focus on. The tension between you and your friends was palpable, but no one bothered to address it, not sure where to even go. The only mention of that night was with Liz in the hallway before she left, and that was enough for you.

You went back to the hospital on the third day (after telling your parents you were staying at school for newspaper), and though there was nothing new about Peter’s condition, you still wanted to be there just in case. May was too busy with work to come in unless there was an emergency, and you hope that brought her more relief than stress.

You spent your visiting hours watching Peter sleep, or whatever people did when they were in a coma. You at least liked to pretend he was just sleeping, it made you feel better about his chances of waking up.

His face was so pale and frail under the fluorescents, and you wished he could wake up just long enough to get some actual food in him. You hoped he was at least somewhat at peace right now and resting away all of the stress he’s put himself under. The stress that you were also a cause of.

“I’m sorry, Peter. For everything,” you whisper. Even if he could hear you right now, you’re not sure you want him to. You slowly stand up from your chair and step closer to the boy, brushing his curls back. Gently, you lean forward and press a kiss to the top of his head, brushing the area with your thumb afterward. “I hope you’re doing okay…”

The fourth day is mostly the same. After school, you lied to your parents and went straight to the hospital. You quietly worked on homework while sitting next to Peter, glancing at him from time to time and sending his hand a reassuring squeeze every now and then. He looks the same as yesterday, and you’re not too sure if that’s good or not.

“You know he’s not going anywhere,” you hear from the doorway. Their voice was instantly recognizable. “Dr. Cho says he’s doing alright, though. Still don’t know when he’ll wake up, but he’s alright for now.” Tony Stark says.

You scoff. “No offense, but that ‘for now’ part doesn’t seem so reassuring.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, taking a seat next to you. “But considering this is probably my fault, I’ll take that over nothing.”

You shake your head. “It’s not your fault. It was bound to happen either way, no matter what you did, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone says, isn’t it?” he mumbles.

“Trust me, I actually mean it. If we’re going to put blame on anyone it should be on me… or the universe or whatever.”

Tony tilts his head. “Universe as in…”

“-soulmates, yeah,” you answer. “In our future, we saw each other after the incident, and I thought he died… now here we are.”

“Right, here we are…” he repeats. “They told me someone else was there at the scene when I got to the hospital, but I wasn’t sure who they were referring to until I saw you afterward. Nice to meet officially meet you…”

“Y/N,” you introduce yourself.

Tony nods. “I’m sorry about how all that went down though. I knew the kid wants his identity to be a secret so I tried to keep everything under wraps as much I could.”

“No hard feelings,” you smile. “I was definitely upset at the time, but I could tell you were just as worried as I was. You wanted to protect him… I do too.” You turn and look at Peter, watching his chest go up and down with his breath. “I’d do anything for him.”

You don’t notice Tony’s faint smile as he watches you and Peter. Young love was beyond him, and watching it happen right in front of his eyes was both sweet and nauseating.

“I should be heading back, I only came here for a quick check-in. Still have some loose ends to tie up regarding press, but nothing to worry about.” He stands up, straightening his jacket. “Glad we got a chance to chat.”

“Me too.” You watch as he walks away, words still at the tip of your tongue. “For what it’s worth Mr. Stark,” you begin, gaining his attention again. “Peter is the type of person who would do anything to save people. He looks out for his family, his friends, me… I can’t imagine someone who’s more of a hero than him, and that includes the Avengers. No offense,” you half-joke. “Whatever you decide to do with him, I hope you give him another chance. He’s really amazing- powers or not.”

He nods, impressed at your words. Tony doesn’t say anything, choosing to offer you a smile before turning away, leaving you and Peter alone. You don’t stay much longer after he leaves, and you follow yesterday’s routine of kissing Peter’s head before heading out.

The fifth day is rainy, perfect to match your somber mood. School decided that today would be a great day to kick your ass and give you tons of homework, even though finals week was already fast approaching. You also forgot an umbrella this morning, and your clothes were still damp from your walk from the subway station. For the cherry on top, no one has had any updates on Peter since he went under, and your hope was starting to falter.

Without thinking, you took Peter’s hands in yours and started to fidget around with his fingers. The cuts on his knuckles were turning pink and gradually healing, while the calluses on his palms were still evident. Much of the skin around his joints were rough, but it meshed so well with the smoothness around it. You were never touchy with other people, but you desperately wanted Peter to squeeze your hands back. At least show some indication that everything was going to be okay.

When you actually felt a squeeze, you almost couldn’t believe it.

You straighten in your chair and turn your head up. A slow flutter of the eyes and a twitch of the lips make your body tense in anticipation. Is he…?

“Peter?” you whisper.

A quiet groan escapes his mouth as Peter’s eyes gently open, taking in the bright lights. You sigh in relief and blink away at the tears trying to come. This better not be a dream.

“Y/N?” he asks, voice dry and scratchy.

“Oh jeez, maybe don’t talk yet. I’ll go grab you some water and tell the nurses you’re up, okay?” you loosen your grip on Peter’s hands, but he squeezes again.

His head does the tiniest shake as he stares down, watching where your fingers touch his. “Stay. They’ll figure it out.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Fine,” you give in. You’ll be out of here soon enough when they find out, and you wanted to spend time with the boy who came back from the dead. “If I get in trouble though, you cannot play the ‘sick patient’ card.”

Peter lets out a gravelly laugh, his body still trying to figure out how to be awake. “I’ll try my best…” he mumbles.

“You’ll try your best? Seriously?” you scoff. “You finally wake up and your first words are some half-ass promise?”

He takes a deep inhale, both humored and annoyed at your teasing. “Fine. I promise I won’t… as long as you promise to be here.”

You smile at his quiet words, taking his knuckle and forcing his pinkie finger up. You gently wrap yours around it, looking him dead in his tired eyes. “I promise I’ll be here,” you whisper.

”I’ll always be here…”

---

A month ago, you promised Peter that exact same thing, and it feels like you already broke that promise. The world has offered you a second chance, and you were doing the same thing Peter did the first time: pushing away out of fear. Could you really waste another five months doing that again?

Could your heart handle that?

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable or something,” Peter stammers. “If you need some time alone, that’s cool,” he offers, fumbling to put his mask back on.

“-Peter, wait.”

He immediately freezes, looking at you with wide eyes. The wind was starting to pick up, and his curls gently blew in the breeze. The dry air irritates his lips as he picks at it, waiting for your next response.

You move closer to him, inch by inch on the railing; your hands are almost touching, your pinkie desperately wanting to link with his gloved one. You take a deep breath and let it trap in your chest as you stare at the boy in front of you.

Peter Parker.

Spider-Man.

Your soulmate.

But most importantly, your best friend.

The wind moves through your hair and chills your body, yet it jumpstarts every nerve in your system. Peter was alive; you were alive; and fuck, was it a good feeling.

You wanted more, so you leaned in. Your nose touched Peter’s and your mouths closed the gap. A small, innocent kiss to tell him you want more, and that it was his call to keep going. When you stop, and Peter realizes that yes, you did just kiss him, he comes back for more. And he’s not looking to stop anytime soon.

His hand lets go of the railing and wraps around the small of your back, keeping you close and balanced. He keeps the other one gripped tight to the metal; he doesn’t trust himself to not get dizzy from you.

You cradle Peter’s face and deepen yourself into his presence. Your heart is hammering against your chest and you love it. It makes your body heat up and radiates the air around you. You hum against his mouth as you suck on his bottom lip, making Peter whine at the feeling. Your sweater rides up as you press yourself closer, and his thumb draws circles on the exposed skin. The small action makes you smile; you were only half-sure you weren’t crying at the amount of love that was running through your veins.

It seems like forever until you two are pulling away, absolutely blissed out and breathless. Neither of you go that far, faces still just a space or two away.

You look into Peter’s glassy eyes. If something were to happen to him, if you had to say goodbye to him in the worst way possible, if you had to grieve for a lifetime in order to move on, if you had to spend every day thinking of him and crying until your face was red and dry…

It was worth it. You were grateful to be loved by Peter Parker.

You catch your breath and take a slow inhale. It smells like cedarwood. Home.

You lean forward again and Peter meets you halfway. Your lips are just touching when you whisper into his mouth his new favorite word.

“When.”

Part 4 / Masterlist

Taglist: @eridanuswave @spideylovin @mktravelbuggie @bintfalastin8 @runway-to-my-aid @selfcarecap @peterbenjiparker

#tom holland #peter parker #peter parker x reader #Peter Parker fluff #peter parker fanfiction #Peter Parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #Peter Parker fanfiction #five months #Peter Parker imagine #spider man fanfic #marvel imagine #marvel #Tom holland x reader #Peter Parker series

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ah-ga-seven · 4 years

Text

Till’ The End of Summer - Chapter 1

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 3.2K

Genre: Angst, Fluff,

Warnings: Mentions of sex, alcohol, overall pretty tame.

A/N: English isn’t my first language, pls don’t come for me ;) Also the first chapter sucks and is more of an introduction so pls give ch 2 a chance lmaoo, it’s juicy, i promise.

You were exhausted.

Your second year of college had passed like a whirlwind and you didn’t even have the time to realise.

Deadline after deadline after deadline had passed and you finally handed in your last paper of the year.

You sigh in relief. The pent up tension leaves ur body and the stress seems to fade more and more as the seconds pass. You stare blankly at your laptop screen. Still not quite realising how you managed to write ten thousand words of scientific research just 3 days before the deadline.

You feel two firm hands on your shoulders, massaging you as a way to show comfort “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry.”

The voice and sudden skinship startled you a little but as soon as you realise who it is, you relax in his touch.

You remove your Airpods and look up at your best friend, Soobin, who sat down next to you at your favourite secluded table in the school’s cafeteria. It’s where your friends could always find you if you had work to do.

“I just might” you sigh throwing your head back. And suddenly a huge grin crept up your face. Which worked contagiously as Soobin instantly started to smile back at you.

“I did it. I finished all of the work.” You say putting your hand on your forehead dramatically.

Soobin chuckled nudging your shoulder. “I told you, you’d be fine. You always manage to pull through even though you procrastinate so much.” He says as he high-fives you.

You pout at his statement. Yes. It’s a serious problem. “I just-”

You stop your sentence midway as that god walks into the cafeteria. His confident stride to the soda machine dressed in simple athletic wear made your jaw drop slightly. He was sweaty, probably from basketball practice. His chestnut hair damp, cascading his forehead and prickling his eyes. He blinked a few times before blowing the hair out of his face with his pouty lips.

You swallow harshly at the sight and Soobin follows your gaze. You hear him chuckle, right before he flicks your forehead.

“Maybe if you stopped drooling over my roommate, you would’ve been able to focus.”

You send him a glare, kicking his knee under the table, making him yelp out in pain, which caught someone’s attention.

Yeonjun takes out his soda from the machine as his head snaps in your direction. He smiles and approaches your table. Your heart decided to do martial arts in your chest with every step he took towards your table.

You look away from his gaze quickly pretending to be busy with your laptop.

“Hey, what’s up?” Yeonjun said ‘bro-fiving’ Soobin.

“Nothing much, just the usual abuse from miss thing here,” Soobin says sending you a look as he rubs his knee.

“Abuse? I didn’t know you were into that.” Yeonjun says giving you a coy smile, and you nearly choked at his words, looking at him wide-eyed.

You try your best to keep your cool, but Yeonjun was leaning against your chair, inching dangerously close, looking over your shoulder.

“Watchu working on?” he asks cutting the tension.

Oh Yeonjun, always so friendly and interested. If only he knew the effect he had on you. Or the effect he had on at least half of the female and male population of your elite college.

“N-nothing. I mean I just finished it. It’s the paper for Mr. Davis’s class. The last one, so summer can finally start.” You ramble, not sure why you’re telling him all of these details. It’s not like he cares.

You take a mental note to shut up, stealing a quick glance from Soobin who was awkwardly shifting in his seat.

Yeonjun let out a chuckle, patting your back. “Good job, I knew you could do it. This paper will give you an advantage next year right?”

You look up in confusion. “How’d you know?”

“Soobinnie here told me that this paper was the reason you bailed on the party two days ago. Such a shame, would’ve been nice to have you there you know…” Yeonjun says a little lost in thought absentmindedly moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Was he? Flirting?

“I have all the time in the world now, so if you want to see me so badly, just give me a call.” You say confidently crossing your arms. You were testing him, and he seemed amused by your sudden confidence.

Soobin rolled his eyes at the two of you. Yeonjun is a notorious fuckboy. A star player of the basketball team, rich, handsome, charming but also his best friend and teammate. You were also his best friend that he had known since childhood, which means that the two of you were a recipe for disaster in his books.

The two of you planned to go to the same college since your parents pushed you to do so, but also because you two are joined at the hip since birth. Oh and did you mention that Soobin was the one with the full basketball scholarship, while you had to rely on your actual brain to get one?

Ever since you started college and were introduced to Choi Yeonjun, you had a meaningless crush on him. But since time passed and you got close to Soobin’s friends and vice versa, your feelings towards him seemed to escalate and you could tell that Yeonjun was into you too. You just didn’t know in what way.

Soobin always tried his best to keep you two apart because he didn’t want you to get hurt. Soobin knew Yeonjun was just going to be in it for the sex and is not ready for a relationship in any way or form.

But Soobin also knows that if you have set your mind to something, there’s absolutely no way that he can talk you out of it. You have always had a fascination for bad boys, wanting to fix them and then crying to Soobin about it when it didn’t work out. It might be the quality he hates about you the most.

But this time it was different. This time it was between two people that Soobin genuinely cared for. So he was against the two of you having any type of relationship other than friendship.

Soobin cleared his throat, diverting the attention back to him. “That sounds nice and all, but I think y/n will be going back home for summer. Right?”

You’re confused by Soobin’s sudden cock blocking and raise your eyebrow at him.

“No, actually. I’m not. Not this year. My parents are traveling through Europe so there’s nothing for me to go home to.” You say. Soobin knows about this. So why would he mention you going back home?

“Well. That’s great. Then we can finally hang out with the whole squad without any of us bailing because of school work.” Yeonjun says smiling.

“Anyways, I’ve got to go. I guess I’ll…see you around?” Yeonjun asks staring at you intently. You just nod in response giving him a smile, which he returned to you immediately. It was more of a smirk than a smile though and you could swear his eyes wandered to your chest, but you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

“See you back home bro” Yeonjun said patting the younger one on his shoulder before walking off.

As Yeonjun was out of sight, your head snaps back to Soobin, who was glaring at you.

“What was that about,” you say crossing your arms, fire spitting from your pupils.

“That’s so NOT happening” Soobin states taking a sip out of his water bottle while keeping eye contact.

“Excuse you?” you say lost for words.

Soobin just shrugs, he’s visibly annoyed and you know not to push his buttons right now but you decide to do so anyway.

“Listen, I know you’re practically my brother and all. But you’re not. So I don’t see why you need to act like you are, I like him Soobin. Let me explore my feelings for him a little.” You say in a hushed tone trying not to sound too bitchy, but Soobin just scoffs in response, rolling his eyes at you.

“It’s your feelings that I’m worried about y/n, cause he certainly doesn’t care. He just wants to fuck. If he actually liked you, he wouldn’t look at you like you’re a meal. He’d look at you with affection.”

You’re taken aback by his statement and you’re not so sure if you should bite back at him. Instead, you let him explain some more as you wave your hand at him as a sign for him to continue.

“I care about both of you. I just don’t want this y/n, because when worse comes to worst I will have to choose, and then I will choose you and everything will go to shit. I am his captain, we have the same group of friends, we share multiple classes, hell, we share a whole apartment” Soobin sighs massaging his temples.

“Ok…Ok…Jesus” you give in.

“I promise; I won’t engage” you pout.

“Good,” Soobin says. “Please for once just…listen to me. Trust me, he’s not the type of guy to want a relationship right now.”

“Ok.” You sigh. “But this means you and your girlfriend will be stuck with me all summer then.”

Soobin looks up, confused at how easy it was to talk you out of it. He smiles at you sweetly and his eyes disappear into crescent moons as he does so. “I can’t wait to get mani-pedi’s.” He laughs sarcastically clapping his massive hands together cutely while visibly relaxing in his seat.

Suddenly your heart gets all soft at the sight of the giant baby in front of you. In a way he is right. He’s telling you all the things that you already knew. And the last thing you wanted was to hurt Soobin for some dumb crush you had on a college boy.

“Soobin is just the captain cause he’s the tallest” Yeonjun argues.

You giggle at his childish statement. You were at the park off-campus with some of your friends. Soobin had his arm draped around his girlfriend Mia’s shoulder while she leaned into him. They were disgustingly adorable. And every time they displayed a little too much PDA all of your friends would throw snacks at them.

Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai had also joined you on the picnic. You were sitting with your legs draped over Beomgyu’s so there would be enough space for everyone on the blanket you brought.

All of you munched on different types of snacks. And you tried your hardest to keep your distance from Yeonjun without making it obvious.

“Soobin hyung is the captain because he’s not as full of himself as you are” Taehyun said, making everyone but Yeonjun laugh.

He gave Taehyun the glare of death and pouted afterward to show playfulness. “I get no respect in this household” Yeonjun sighs as he throws an M&M at Tae’s head, which he dodged just in time.

Your heart did a jump at the sight of his pout and as if he could sense it, Yeonjun made eye contact with you.

He smirked, looking away when you did.

Mia looked at you, narrowing her eyes as she saw the way you two were stealing glances from each other like high school kids.

Mia was one of your closest friends whom you had introduced to Soobin in the first year. They started dating not long after they met. And from time to time you still remind them of the fact that if it weren’t for you, they’d be sad and lonely.

Mia knew you like the back of her hand, just like Soobin did. So keeping a secret from either of them was basically impossible. The two of them tend to gang up on you a lot. Even though you know It’s out of love and concern, it’s still really fucking annoying sometimes. Especially when it comes to your love life.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you say getting up. Beomgyu reluctantly removed his arm from your leg and uses it as a supporting rod for you to get up.

You smile and thank him, which made Yeonjun narrow his eyes at the two of you, which Mia also noticed.

Soobin however was lost in deep conversation with Hueningkai about some Math problems he had.

Huening was a freshman, just like Tae, but since they were on the basketball team as well, they were all pretty close. And they helped each other out whenever they could.

You admired their friendship and were happy to call them your friends as well.

“I’ll come with you,” Mia says untangling her man's arms from her waist as she tries to get up, earning a sad pout from Soobin in return. “Come back soon,” he said sighing.

“Don’t be disgusting” Yeonjun and you say at the exact same time. Earning chuckles from everyone.

You look at each other surprised and laugh like the two of you were in your own world.

This time, Soobin noticed, and you try your best to avoid his gaze.

“You two are just bitter cause you’re single” Taehyun stated throwing his head back in evil laughter.

“Well so are you, so are all of you except for them so what’s your point exactly” Yeonjun bites back giving Taehyun a beaming smile while stuffing his face with a handful of the chocolates.

“Ehm, shall we?” Mia nudged you and you nodded as the boys’ bickering became background noise while you walked off together.

“Why do chicks always go to the bathroom together” Hueningkai questioned with genuine curiosity.

“So they can talk shit in private,” Beomgyu said wiggling his eyebrows.

As Mia and you walked further and further from your spot, Mia looks over her shoulder to determine if it’s a safe enough distance to start gossiping.

“Dude” she nudges you while speaking in a hushed tone.

“Why were you and Yeonjun literally eye-fucking each other in front of everyone.”

Your eyes grow wide and you turn around facing her. “Eye-fucking” you repeat her, suppressing a chuckle while trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

“I think you’re seeing things.” You say shrugging.

“Am I y/n?” she looks at you with a stern expression, and this time you’ve had about enough.

You sigh in frustration as you open the door to the public bathroom entrance.

“Look, Soobin already gave me the ‘Yeonjun is a fuckboy so stay away’ lecture, I really don’t need to hear it again.”

“Soobin lectured you about not engaging with Yeonjun?” Mia says surprised.

You raise your eyebrows. “You didn’t know? I thought he told you everything.”

Mia sighs. “If you like him, who’s Soobin to tell you what to do with those feelings?”

Your jaw drops, in awe of the fact that she’s siding with you on this one. “But if he hurts you, I’ll break his ankles.” She says determined, with her psycho protective smile. Ah, there it is.

“Well. Soobin really gave me an ultimatum. He basically says that if things end badly, he would have to choose between us and that it’d ruin not only his friendship but the team’s teamwork and everything. I don’t want to have that on my conscience just because I’m lusting over Yeonjun.”

Mia nearly busted a lung laughing and you cocked your eyebrow at her in surprise. “What are you laughing about” you try to suppress a smile, amused by her sudden outburst.

“He. Is. So. Dramatic” she says still recovering from her laughing fit.

“He is?” you ask genuinely interested in her point of view.

“Yes, he is. Look I don’t want to be the one to push you into toxicity or anything but we know Yeonjun. He is sweet? And nice. And he has never given me an off vibe. I can tell he has eyes for you, the only problem is that a lot of girls have eyes for him too and that can become a problem. The issue is if YOU can handle that.” Mia fixes your hair while she speaks and you sigh.

She’s right. “But Soobin”

“Oh fuck Soobin, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Just live a little. What’s the worst that could happen.”

“Did you pee out the whole lake? That took forever.” Soobin states yanking Mia back into his lap.

“I missed you,” he says nuzzling his face in her neck.

“Ok, gross.” Beomgyu rolled his eyes.

“There was a line” you lie walking over to Yeonjun’s side, sitting down between him and Hueningkai this time. This action earned a look from Soobin, who was basically cursing at you with his eyes, all while Mia smiled at you knowingly. It also earned a look from Yeonjun, he looked at you surprised but content, and he gave you a sweet smile, his facial expression softened immediately when you nudged him playfully as you sat down next to him.

The whole afternoon was spent laughing and bickering. Listening to the boys’ none sense and Taehyun making snacks disappear and appear with his never-ending magic tricks. All while the six of you were busting your brains trying to solve Hueningkai’s mathematical equations for his engineering class.

Yeonjun inched closer to you from time to time. The both of you were in charge of the music that was blasting from your portable speaker. You compared your Spotify playlists and noticed how much you have in common with him music-wise. It was fun seeing Yeonjun becoming all passionate about his favourite artists, it certainly didn’t help the fact that you were trying to keep a distance from him. Cause his cute little mannerisms and the way he gets so engrossed in his storytelling made you fall for him even more. Face first to be exact.

From time to time you would feel Yeonjun’s gaze linger on you. He’d ‘accidentally’ brush his arm against yours or he would touch your thigh, asking you to pass him another can of soda.

It was a lot, but you couldn’t say you hated it.

“It’s getting late” Taehyun says getting up. “We need to prepare for the party tonight”

his statement earned hums, moans, and groans from everyone.

“Whose party?” you asked.

“Johnny. That senior from the photography major” Yeonjun answered, looking at you with a hopeful expression. “You’re coming right?”

You smiled at him, nodding your head. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Dude this is a disaster,” you say rummaging through your clothes while you were on Facetime with Mia. “I don’t have anything to wear”

Mia rolled her eyes at you. “You trying to impress someone?” she said stuffing her face with seaweed chips.

You stare at her through the screen “Listen, you little shit. Just because you’re in a happy marriage doesn’t mean you get to be all sarcastic and judgy”

She snorted “Marriage!? Oh please. You’re just trying to impress Yeonjun and that’s fine. Just wear something that covers the least amount of skin, he’ll like it.”

“You’re a menace to society” you state, Mia shrugs at your choice of words and laughs. “But you’re right.” You give in grabbing a strappy lilac mini dress. “Then I guess this is contestant number one”

“Ooh, yes! Love that, wear that.” Mia enthusiastically exclaims giving you a thumbs up.

“Okay, that was a lot easier than I thought this was going to be, I’m gonna finish getting ready. You and Soobin are picking me up, right?”

“Yes, we are. Be ready at 11.”

“Alright, see you, bye”

“Bye.”

You throw your phone on your bed and hold the dress in front of your figure, looking at yourself in the mirror. You sigh, getting a rush of anxiety and butterflies in your stomach as you think of seeing Yeonjun again tonight.

Let’s see where this goes.

Chapter 2

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