#Like ten different people spoke to me today at different times about stuff

[luveline]

guys I know I cried cos everyone was mean to me on my first day but I’ve met more coworkers since then and EVERYONE is so nice to me I love it I can’t beleive how kind everyone is

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

Chapter 21 of Chained: To Wield The Blade We Have Forged

A/N: This chapter is stephcass focused enough that I think people might enjoy this as a standalone thing, so I'll be posting the chapter both on AO3 as usual, and right here in this post! This also connects to the reblog I wrote up the other night gushing about Batgirl (2000) #19 and the potential in a Cass vs Jason confrontation!

For this chapter only, NOT the whole fic: Rated T for Teen Ships are Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain and vaguely hinted at Jason Todd/Tim Drake There's gonna be a LOT of plot points that don't seem to go anywhere, cause they're parts of much bigger arcs, but there's some really sweet talk about deep stuff towards the end and the start is Steph handling a deescalation scenario Hope you enjoy ^w^ !

Dear War Diary,

You know, some days I don't even think Ivy should be in Arkham. Logging, pollution, hair spray tearing a hole in the ozone layer, pesticides - if I could feel plants' pain as they were broken apart, I'd want to feed people to ambulatory venus fly traps too. Heck, back in high school I was sure tempted to let her have at some of my more obnoxious classmates.

Unfortunately, today was not one of those days.

We knew something was weird this time around when the docs at Arkham called warning us that she woke up screaming and her powers went out of control. Usually when this sort of thing happens she goes towards a clear goal. Like, there'll be a construction site or a factory or something damaging the land and drawing her out.

Thing is though, the more we chased her, the clearer it became that she wasn't running towards anything.

She was fleeing, and seemingly had no clear place to bolt to. First she fled to the meat packing district. Then she ran down to the water, and like, we expected her to follow the coast? But she just swam right in! Left huge algal blooms in her wake too; like the lacy train of a queen's dress. She even left Gotham altogether for a hot minute only to turn back again for no reason. She was very obviously out of her mind frightened of something, but we had no idea what it was, and frankly, we still don't.

Tonight had real big 'predator running from the wildfire' energy, is what I'm saying.

It took several days, but eventually she gave up on running and bunkered down in one of the parks. The concrete storage shed she picked as her new home was so overgrown by the time we got to it that it was impossible to see a single square inch of the structure. The hardwood and thorn vines covering it had to have been at least a meter thick.

And that little backstory finally brings us to tonight's patrol.

I tapped my earpiece, "We getting anything on the seismic, O?"

"Nope. If she's digging she's doing it slow enough we're not gonna get any warning. Good news though, I finally got an answer back from Waller. Harley Quinn can be on the line within ten minutes notice."

"Awesome. Speedy, you good to cover me?"

"Yup! Got a whole quiver full of tranquilizers and frog crotch arrows ready for her."

I snort-laughed, "God, what a name!"

"I know right?! But yeah, you're good to go. I'll be aiming from the East, so gimmie a sign if you think you'll need me at a different angle."

"Got it. Alright O, give that ten minute notice and I'll start the approach."

Step one: Get the cops to back up the perimeter by at least ten feet all around. Frankly they were gonna be useless in a fight if it came to that, and the whole goal here was to get this done without bloodshed.

This part was pretty damn easy. I knew one of the cops there by name and she was more than happy to back her fellow officers out of the negotiation zone.

Step two: Establish a desire for peaceful communication.

I spoke through a megaphone into the general direction of the tree-bunker, "Doctor Isley? Would you be willing to come out and talk?"

The woods creaked and groaned, shifting minutely. My heart pounded in my chest, waiting, watching, every leaf bud an acid spitting behemoth in the making.

Nothing came out.

I called out to her again, "Okay. Doctor Isley, you seem really upset, and we don't understand why, but you haven't hurt anyone yet so we're not going to hurt you."

I glanced around surreptitiously at the cops. Lucky for me they all seem to be on their best behavior tonight. No one was grumbling about wanting to hurt her loud enough for me to hear, and I just had to trust that meant the grass couldn't hear them either.

"If you don't want to talk to me, that's okay. We want to get you some help, so we're going to try and get Harley on the phone so you can talk to her."

Against my ear, the phone crackled to life.

Time for step three: Get negotiation partner on board.

"Which bat-brat do I have the displeasure of speakin to today!?"

"It's Batgirl; we need your help getting through to Ivy."

"HAH! Well fat fuckin chance, asshole! I ain't talkin her inta anythin she don't wanna do!"

"And we're not asking you to! She hasn't even hurt anybody, and she's not making any threats, but she is clearly terrified. We think there's something or someone after her, and it's not us."

I gave her a moment to think it over. She's got to know we wouldn't let Ivy die, but there's always the chance we're just lying.

"Fine. Alright, what's the plan here?"

"Thank you! I'm gonna hold the speaker up to the megaphone, and you let her know you want to talk, then I'll slowly approach and once in speaking range I'll take the megaphone off of the phone to give the two of you some privacy."

"An you'll still be listinen the whole damn time of course."

"Yeah, sorry about that, but at least the cops won't be."

Harley sighs, "Turn the lights down in the house and start the music then. Lets get this show rollin an' over with."

Step four: Negotiate and deescalate.

Through the phone megaphone combo she said, "Hey Sweetpea, mind lettin me hear yer pretty voice again?"

The protective wall started growing again, getting thicker. I chance a few slow steps forwards anyway, since nothing offensive starts growing either. Or at least I hoped there wasn't something offensive in there.

"I've missed ya. Not the same kickin ass with these bozos in here, ya'know?"

As I got closer, the smell of ozone got stronger, breathing started to feel weird, and every drop of sweat evaporated off of me, leaving me parched. Her hypergrowth vegetation was stripping the carbon dioxide and water out of the air so fast that the atmosphere around it was going haywire.

Just as I thought she was waiting for me to get close enough for her tree's roots to just use me as a nutrient bag, an opening formed over the doorway to the storage unit, and she shakily poked her head out, calling for Harleen.

She was messed up. She clearly hadn't been able to take care of herself and

I'm not writing the next part down verbatim. Just seems too... invasive. They said a lot of sweet an

I don't feel great about this, but just in case I need it, I am going to record what I remember of how Harley talked her down.

Harley said, "Pumpkin, I'm so sorr

Okay. Third time's the charm?

This was not a criminal wrecking havok for profit. This was not a terrorist making demands. This was someone having a breakdown due to forces outside her control and her girlfriend comforting her as best she could. I shouldn't even have been hearing it, really, so yeah I think I'd feel too skeezy to keep dinner down if I wrote it all out 'just in case'.

Informationally speaking, hopefully the only part of their conversation I'll ever need to know again is that Ivy said "The green is dying" and "She's made the world barren; the flowers will never bloom again" and basically made it really clear that the damage was already done and no one was after her.

If you're reading this Future Me and you desperately need to know exactly what happened, sorry not sorry, get a time machine or something.

Anyways, after it became clear that there was nothing we could do for her other than get her back to mental help, I gave Speedy the signal to take the shot. The tranqs hit her before she realized anything was up, and there were only a few seconds of scuffle, then she was down for the count.

I picked up the phone again to cut the line and Harley said, "So that's it, huh? I talk her into openin' the treeline, you drug her up, and that's curtains?"

"There clearly wasn't anything else we could do for-"

"Fuck off you insufferable, controlling, shitty, furry knock off cops! I shoulda told her ta mulch ya!"

There were the muffled sounds of the phone being taken out of her hand, and then a voice I didn't recognize, "Well, I hope that clown to plant heart to heart was worth the favor."

"Zero injuries, zero deaths, zero horrifying poison scares: I'd say it was."

She, whoever she was (I assume it was Waller) chuckled, "Well you aren't the one picking up the tab. Tell Oracle it was a pleasure doing business again."

The line went dead.

"You get that O?"

"Loud and clear. And hey, don't let what Quinn said get to you. You did great."

"Thanks," I kinda didn't feel it, but the sentiment was nice.

The rest of patrol was a long and boring ride on the top of a police van, making sure that no one ambushed her on her way back to Arkham, and then a short conversation about what they're going to do to keep her there this time.

They've had a couple different ways to cut her off from whatever The Green is for a while now. Every method has nasty side effects, and half her breakout attempts were in direct opposition to using them. At this point their policy is to just help her manage being connected. Considering what I saw that connection putting her through tonight? The docs rubber stamped cutting her off from The Green again, at least temporarily, and I'm pretty okay that.

So yeah. We won. Yippee. And all it took was arm twisting a woman held prisoner by a shadowy government agency in order to trick the love of her life into making herself vulnerable to us...

God this job sucks sometimes.

And the suck was not over yet, not by a long shot! And the suck was not only reserved for me either. Uh, okay obviously since Harley and Ivy, but also!

Oracle called to tell me this: "I need to give you a heads up before you return to base, and Speedy needs some time to handle a private phone call so I'm telling you this now. Black Bat got into a fight that upset her pretty bad. She's been on the training sims and dummies for over three hours, and I'm kinda worried she's not gonna sleep unless someone helps her untangle her head."

"I thought everything went smooth on her end, what the heck happened?"

"Easier if I just show you," Oracle said and fed a video taken by one of the Bat-House's internal cameras into my HUD.

It showed Ca (gah trying not to write anyone's names is a mess) Black Bat in civilian clothes, standing in a doorway. She's staring at the Red Hood from across the room with an expression of frustrated determination.

He ignores her for a while, continuing to read, curled up on the couch in a posture so terrible I have to wonder if he's trying to give himself back problems.

She just... kept staring. And staring.

Finally he asked, sounding very snarky and annoyed, "Can I help you?"

"Why did you pull the trigger again? You were better. You did better for so long. Why?"

"I don't owe you that shit," He narrowed his eyes at her, "And you don't get to decide I was better just cause you liked it more when I was docile."

She marches over to him, "I know how it hurts. I see it hurt you! I want to help. I want to know why."

"No," He said, standing up to loom over her, as though she couldn't kick his ass five ways from Sunday with a hand tied behind her back, "You want me to get on my knees and sob and beg for forgiveness. As though any of you shitheads ever even deserved my forgiveness!"

"No! I want to see you get better! I wanted another little brother!"

"Well congratu-fucking-lations, you got one! Don't worry, Dickie hates it just as much. I'm sure he can give you some pointers on how to go fuck yourself about it."

My jaw started hurting from how tight I had my teeth clenched as I watched her face twist in open rage-hurt-sorrow, "Why won't you stop burning our house down!? You're in it!"

"I. Don't. Owe. You. That."

She glared up at him defiantly, "You owe someone."

"No. I don't."

"Sheezus!" Black Canary said as she entered the room, "I leave you alone for five minutes and you're already picking a fight with her? Seriously?"

Black Bat's anger simmered below the boiling point again, "Not a fight."

"That sure looked like-"

"Not a fight." She declared bitterly, storming out of the room.

BC raised an eyebrow at Hood.

He smiled all teeth and irritation, "Not a fight!"

She rolled her eyes and took her post back up as the video ended.

I sighed, "Well. That'd do it. Thanks for the warning, I'll see if I can talk to her, take her mind off it."

"Appreciated. I tried but... I dunno. You'll probably have more luck."

"We'll see I guess! So, am I good to check in with Speedy, or is she still on her phone call?"

"You're good."

When I grappled up to the roof she was on, Speedy looked pretty damn unhappy. So, like, clearly tonight was sucking complete ass for everyone. Mercury in retrograde or some shit, idk.

"You got news I take it?" I asked.

"Mhm, great news! By which I mean totally shit news. Apparently the lab I get my bloodwork done at broke, as in everything is giving false negatives. So yeah, all my bloodwork for the past who knows how long might have been wrong!"

"Oh shit. You want us to test you in the Batcave? Guarantee the lab down there could handle whatever you need!"

"I appreciate the offer, but I'll need to fast for twelve hours beforehand no matter what, so it wouldn't really be any quicker. Also my civilian GP would be pretty leery of a Bat-Diagnostic, especially since they already got me an appointment with the closest available people."

O cut in over comms, "That is suspiciously fast..."

Speedy shrugged, "I've got a feeling Green Arrow might have pushed me up the list somehow. He might not be (secret identity stuff I can't write down here :P ) anymore, but he's still got some pull."

"Hmm, well, both of you get back to base and we can figure out the logistics once you're here."

"Roger."

"Aye Aye Captain."

Once she cut off I offered, "Grapple line tag on the way there to take your mind off it?"

"You know what? I could use something to stretch my legs out after all that sniper crouching. Fuck it, let's do this."

Swingy swingy swingy over the buildings, across the bridge, to grandmother's imposing, minefield-surrounded cave we went!

We got into the cave, changed out of our gear, and sure enough, Black Bat was still in the training section, running herself ragged. Speedy went up to get some sleep since she couldn't eat dinner now anyways (do NOT envy that). So I went straight into an attempt to pry Black Bat off the training mats.

"Heads up!" I called out and tossed a bottle of water at her head.

She caught it without even looking, swapping to kicks and using her other hand to demolish her sandbag opponents, "Been drinking enough just fine."

"Sure. What'll it take to convince you to take a break and drink it with me anyways?"

She paused, leg still raised to kick, perfectly poised like gravity wasn't even a factor. It always makes my legs hurt looking her like that. Makes the rest of me swoon too.

"Would um..." She frowned, like she expected me to think less of her for making the request, "You bring dinner down here? For us both?"

I gave her a smile, "Yeah, of course. Mind saying how come?"

"Because Hood's up there and I want to fight him more. If I fight him, have to look at him. Have to watch him feeling and thinking and..." She finally put her leg down, and fidgeted with the cap of her water, "And I just don't want to."

"Didn't realize you hated him that bad."

"Not sure I do? Messy."

"Yeah, messy for me too."

Translation: I still don't know how to feel about him taking grisly revenge against Black Mask 'in my honor'. Still also super don't know how to feel about his welcome home gifts of a gun and an offer to come murder criminals with him.

Then I add, "But I'll have you know I'm a first class mess messer with-er! So if you want to talk about it, I'd be happy to."

She very briefly smiled, then her face feel again and somber moment passed before she said quietly, "Yeah, okay. Bring food down and... we can talk."

"On it."

"Um, wait!"

"Huh?"

She caught my arm and reeled me in for a kiss on the cheek, "There."

I laughed and gave her a proper kiss, "There! Love you."

Diary, have I ever told you about how she looks when she blushes? Because I seriously think I'll need to pull out the old poetry textbooks in order to do it justice.

Upstairs took me passed the dining room, where Red Hood and Red Robin were talking.

"The fuck is that?" Hood asked, leaning over his shoulder.

"Blueprints. I'm having a section of my house renovated while I'm stuck here."

"Wwwwhy?"

"I am swiftly being driven mad by boredom and saw a really neat indoor garden set-up on pinterest."

"An indoor garden? In Gotham? Do you fuckin want to get strangled to death in your sleep by vines?"

RR does the little 'tch' thing he picked up from Robin, "Whatever, it'll be fine, these are tiny little arboreals and I'll have reinforced airlocks leading in and out."

"That does fucking nothing for attacks in your sleep."

"Which is why I'll have the whole lockdown system automated. I was already going to do automation for the plant care stuff anyways, cause lets be honest here, there was no way I was ever going to keep them alive on my own."

"...The speed and ease with which you oscillate between self depreciating paranoia and megalomaniacal hubris is fascinating."

And even as pissed off as I am with both of them, that still almost made me friggin lose it laughing, RR seemed so offended too, it was great!

And speaking of pissed off? Yeah, seeing RR acting so chummy with Hood was kinda making my blood boil! Like, maybe he didn't even know they fought. But he's supposed to be her friend too, and it's still sticking in my craw, and I'm busy with the whole damn city needing patroled, and so bottom line: I didn't talk to him tonight, and I'm probably not gonna talk to him tomorrow night either!!

Agent A had several plates set to the side already when I got into the kitchen. I think he assumed at least a few of us were gonna go off in our separate corners after the argument. Made it nice and easy to snag two and bring it down.

She had clearly been pacing, waiting for me, back down in the cave.

We sat together and she held my hand while we ate - pretty awkward, but super worth it. We stayed quiet, me cause I wanted to give her the space to start talking, and her probably because she wasn't sure where to start.

Once all the peas and mash were gone and she was pushing her drumstick around the plate she asked, "Ready?"

"Go for it. All ears."

"It's a guilt thing I think? Least a little?"

"Kinda always figured you were uh, how to put it, I guess invested in him, cause of that sort of parallel between you two?"

She nodded, "Not all of it's that, though. Different guilt," She gives me a rueful smile, "I'm layered in it, huh?"

"Like a lasagna of angst," I told her solemnly.

She huffed a quiet laugh, fidgeting with my hand, "Am I um. A tasty lasagna?"

"Oh yeah, you're delicious," I said with a cheesy wink.

"Terrible," She laughed a bit more, running her thumb over the back of my hand, and the nervous sad crept right back in, "You know about um... One day, I rescued a man? Murderer. From the gas chamber?"

"Yeah. Not well, you've never said much, but I've read a bit about it. Was kind of a big news thing."

"On the way out I met the mother of his victim. She demanded justice. She demanded his death. I didn't know how to- to reconcile her grief. Still don't. But back then... I put him back in the gas chamber. I look at Hood. Wonder if he's the murderer or the mother or the executioner. Wonder what the mother was. Wonder what I was. Wonder if the distinction matters at all."

"Hood's trying to cut all the bad people out, trying to bleed the world better. You're trying to keep it all alive, trying to keep everyone growing. Maybe the other distinctions don't matter, but I think this one has to."

She squeezed my hand tight and kissed every one of my knuckles delicately, "I hope so. Trying to believe so."

"I kinda think you already do. You may be an angst lasagna, but you don't do what you do just out of guilt, yeah?"

"Guess so... I wanted so bad to find out that they'd been replaced by aliens or something. Find out that wasn't him. Not now and um. Not on TV all those months ago. At the very least I was hoping to find regret."

"I really wish I had something better to say than, you know, his determination to be an asshole isn't something we can fix. Just gotta keep growing our garden and hope he decides to join us for real sometime."

"Yeah..." Another round of knuckle kisses, "Yeah, you're right," She wrinkles her nose, "Sucks you're right."

"Yup."

She pressed her forehead against our intertwined hands for a while.

Then she asked, "Tell me about one of your shows?"

"Sure."

So I chattered about some light stuff she nodded along to until we were both ready for bed. It was honestly really nice, and I think I needed it too, a lot more than I realized.

So yeah, here's hoping tomorrow is less of a complete shit show from start to finish.

- Batgirl IV

[marvelmaniac715]

This is part 11 of my Chucky transferring his soul into a human at the end of Seed au! I never thought I’d write so many of these fics, but I love this au so much, and I have so many different ideas for this. This fic is pretty much 2 fics in 1, and they’re both about the twins getting in trouble at school. As always with this au, up until the age of fourteen, Glen and Glenda go by he/him and she/her respectively, and in this fic, the twins are eleven (in honour of this being the 11th part of this au) :). I hope you enjoy this fic :).

————————————————————-

Glenda:

Glenda was so nervous. She’d been so careful, but finally, after so many years, teachers had caught her misbehaving and had irrefutable proof. Just to rub it in, they’d called her Daddy in to finally prove him wrong, and he’d been weirdly silent for most of this drive. He hadn’t been mad, exactly, just quiet. Usually when they came out of the principal’s office, he’d be ranting about the stupidity of the education system, but not today. It was ten minutes until they’d get home. Suddenly, he turned his head to face her, keeping one eye on the road and one eye on her.

“So, do you understand why I was called in today?”

Uh oh, it was starting. Glenda didn’t know what would expect, she’d seen her Daddy lose his temper at people a lot of times, but he’d never been mad at her before. Would he start off quiet then start yelling? All she could do was nod. But this wasn’t a satisfactory answer apparently, because he sighed.

“I need you to say it out loud so that I know that you know.”

Glenda swallowed, lowered her head in shame and spoke nervously.

“I got in trouble.”

That apparently, was the right answer.

“That’s right, you did, but what did you specifically do?”

A moment of silence. Then:

“I drowned the class turtle.”

Strangely, her father began to snort, as if holding in laughter. But as soon as Glenda looked at him, he stopped immediately.

“No, this isn’t funny, I shouldn’t be laughing-‘

Then he laughed again, but this time, he wasn’t even trying to hide it, he was loudly cackling. This was weird. He eventually stopped, but he still looked like he could burst out laughing at any moment.

“I’m sorry for laughing, it’s just because of the sheer irony of it all. I mean, the stuff your mom and I did before you and Glen were born, and the fact that my offspring drowned a turtle. It’s just such a contrast, but it’s hilarious!”

This was borderline insulting, Glenda had thought that the turtle drowning was a stroke of genius, what could her Daddy have done that topped that? But then she realised, why wasn’t he mad at her?

“Why aren’t you mad at me? I took a life, I committed an act of animal cruelty! You should be furious, checking me into a mental hospital!”

More silence, both father and daughter were lost in thought. Then, Chucky spoke again.

“Put it this way, do you regret what you did?”

Glenda contemplated this for a moment. She had taken an innocent life, she should be wracked with guilt. But she wasn’t. So her answer had to be…

“No. It was a lot of fun, it was exhilarating. When I did it, my body buzzed with this sort of glowing energy, it sort of tickled. Then I started laughing, and didn’t stop until I was hauled away from the classroom. If I could go back, I’d do it again.”

Chucky’s smile turned proud. A few tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he wrapped his head around the fact that his daughter was like him.

“Then I don’t need to be mad. Of course, I am a little disappointed.”

Glenda bowed her head, believing that he was disappointed that she killed a tortoise. It was slightly strange how lightly he was taking this, but she wouldn’t complain.

“I understand. I shouldn’t have killed that tortoise-‘

“No, I’m not talking about the kill itself. I’m disappointed because you chose a simple strangulation when there’s so many options out there. Even if that’s your only choice, give it a little pizazz. Dress it in some swimming goggles and a tiny pair of trunks, set it swimming in a younger year’s sink, linger in the doorway to hear them howl in terror. That’s what I would have done, but there’s nothing to be done now I guess…”

Glenda stared at her father with a newfound awe, slack jawed. How had she never known that her Daddy had so many good ideas? She’d always known that he was smart, and talented, because he was an amazing artist. But she’d never realised that he could understand how she felt and offer advice that’d actually help her. She was a little disappointed in herself for not having this sort of initiative herself.

“I feel kinda bad that I didn’t think of any of these things when I was doing it…”

Her father’s smile was now encouraging, and slightly excited.

“It’s okay, because I wanna help you. Now that I know that you’re someone like me, there’s so much that I can’t wait to teach you. We’re gonna have so much fun, Glenda, we’ll progress far beyond a simple tortoise. By the time you’re twenty, you’ll be infamous, mark my words.”

His words made Glenda feel giddy. There was a newfound understanding between them, an acknowledgment of a common interest and a mutual desire to hone her skills. She couldn’t wait. Wait a second. Glen. How would he take this? She’d never done anything without her twin.

“This all sounds great, Daddy, but what about Glen? Can he get involved?”

His smile dropped, morphing into a concerned frown.

“Oh no, the stuff I want to teach you would absolutely break the poor kid. And your mom wouldn’t like it, she’d think you’re too young. She doesn’t see your potential like I do. This is just gonna be a secret between us, got it?”

Glenda nodded solemnly.

“Got it.”

————————————————————-

Glen:

This was a day that Glen had never seen coming. The day he’d gotten in trouble. He’d never been bad in his life,  but Glenda had baited him into stealing the teacher’s wallet, and he’d been helpless to her manipulations. Now his dad was sitting in the principal’s office, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Look, are you sure that you aren’t thinking of Glenda? I know that one of my kids did it, they’re the only redheads in their class, despite how much I hate admitting that they were naughty. But this seems more like a Glenda thing to do, Glen’s the good one. Don’t worry, we confuse the twins at home all the time, this isn’t the first time this sort of thing has happened.”

There wasn’t any point covering this up. So Glen tapped his father on the shoulder and gave him a guilty look.

“No dad, it was me. I did it.”

The man looked genuinely shocked. He remained shocked up until they got into the car. Then the questioning started.

“Why, Glen? I mean, I expect this sort of stunt from Glenda, but you? You’re the good one, you’re the one I’ve got all my hopes pinned on!”

This made Glen feel very upset. This wasn’t his fault! Glenda had threatened to punch him if he told on her, but this was the one time that being a tattletale would work in his favour.

“Glenda made me do it!”

Silence. 

“Why would she do that?”

Glenda was glaring at him now, but he couldn’t stop.

“The principal was gonna suspend her if she did another bad thing. So she made me do it and take the punishment so it won’t go on her record. I felt really guilty about it.”

His father grinned, looking at Glenda.

“So let me get this straight. You knew that if you got in trouble again you’d get suspended, so you framed your brother who’s never done a thing wrong so you wouldn’t get punished?”

Glenda nodded, smirking slightly. People for miles around were then able to hear Charles Lee Ray yell at the top of his lungs:

“My baby’s a criminal genius!”

[cyoc49]

Model Student

The clock was at 9:55 as I walked into my World History lecture. There were several students around me who had arrived early and were already set up. I made my way to one of the seats, got my stuff out, and at 10 AM sharp Prof. Elwyn began to lecture. I’ll admit, for a gen ed history professor, he had made these first few weeks of class pretty enjoyable. He was the type of guy who knew a lot of stuff about the history of the world, and was eager to share his accumulated knowledge with us. The type of professor who almost seemed on another level with his smarts. At the very least, he made taking history as a college junior bearable.

“Today, class, we’ll be talking about the earliest days of civilization,” he began, “the time known as ‘Before the Current Era’. What’s interesting about this period is that due to the relative lack of artefacts and documents, historians have to be creative in how they construct understandings of what the people of these times were like. This is why studying history is so important: those who truly understand history can control the narrative of how humans lived. It’s almost as if-”

Prof. Elwyn’s lecture was then interrupted, as it had been the last few weeks, as Manny strolled in ten minutes late and dropped into the back of the classroom, playing music on his phone and slurping on the end of a Big Gulp soda.

Manny and I were in the same grade, and throughout my time here he had always been a pretty bad student. He was always late to class (on those days when he attended), and I don’t think I had ever seen him do homework. He preferred to hang out with his group of friends, usually going out to the bar rather than doing any kind of studying.

He didn’t bother me too much (it wasn’t my tuition he was wasting, after all), but when he got in the way of professors doing their job like today, it was hard to ignore how much of a jackass he was.

Prof. Elwyn sighed as Manny came in, and simply stared at him while he caused this scene. After a few moments, Prof. Elwyn calmly but firmly asked “Manny, please turn off that music.” Manny obliged, but took his sweet time to hit pause.

Prof. Elwyn continued “This is the third time this week you’ve arrived late and caused a scene. You’re interfering with your fellow students’ ability to learn, and that’s not fair to them. If you’re going to remain in this class, I’m going to need to see improvement in your behavior.”

Manny scoffed, putting his feet up on the desk. “Dude, you really think this class is important enough for you to be demanding shit from me? This is a fucking gen ed, nobody wants to be here. Let me sit back, get my C, and go on with my day.”

One of the students closer to the front spoke up “He’s always been like this, Professor, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, shut up!” Manny angrily retorted.

Prof. Elywn let out another sigh at Manny’s reaction “I really do see the makings of a great student in you, if you actually tried. If only your history had been different.”

And without saying another word, Prof Elwyn raised his right hand and snapped.

  The clock was at 9:55 as I walked into my World History lecture. There were several students around me who had arrived early and were already set up. One of them, currently at the front of the class turning in his homework, was Manuel. As I settled into my seat, I noticed he seemed to be having a good-natured conversation with the professor about something relating to Ancient Egypt. That didn’t surprise me; Manuel and I had been going to school together for 3 years, and he had to be one of the smartest and hardest working guys on campus. You pretty much had to in order to be an International Business and Finance double major like he was. It was clear he took college a lot more seriously than half the people here. To be fair, you could probably guess that just by looking at him: he dressed nicely for class every single day. I don’t think I had ever seen him without a collared shirt and dress pants. His hair was always combed nicely and he almost always had a textbook or two in hand.

We weren’t close friends, but we were friendly. He was nice to pretty much everyone, always willing to share answers and help people learn the material. He did seem like he had a bit of a stick up his ass sometimes, but that was just to do with how seriously he took school. Every time we were paired up for a group project, I knew we would get an A. That was reason enough to like him.

“I finished that book you recommended about the pharaohs of the Fourth Dynasty. I had never learned about Menkaure like that before!” I heard Manuel say to Prof. Elwyn.

“Well I’m glad you enjoyed it! If you’re interested in the rest of the series, stop by my office. I have a few of the books and you’re more than welcome to borrow them.” Prof. Elwyn responded.

“Will do!” Manuel beamed. He noticed the clock had hit 10:00, and he returned to his seat in the front row with his notebook set up, including no fewer than five different colored highlighters.

“Today, class,  we’ll be talking about the earliest days of civilization,” Prof. Elwyn began his lecture, “the time known as ‘Before the Current Era’. And studying this period is one of my favorite things to do, because historians use such creative methods to tell the story ancient civilizations. Those who truly understand history can control the narrative of how these people lived.”

He gave us all a knowing smile “And believe me, that’s quite the power to have.”

He opened a PowerPoint and continued on with the lecture. I intermittently took notes, trying to keep up as best I could. If nothing else, I knew I could ask Manuel for his notes after class. I had seen that guy’s notebook before, and Jesus. It could probably qualify as an encyclopedia. It was nice having at least one good student in the classroom.

[starshapedkookie]

Southpaw

pairing: jungkook x female reader (ft. a little sprinkle of namjoon)

genre: childhood friends to lovers, boxer jungkook, college/frat au

includes: swearing, angst, mentions of blood and violence, pining, smut (public/private, unprotected sex, hair pulling, jungkook is big guys, duh), alcohol, smoking weed, jungkook seems like an asshole but he’s really not, OC having a crisis every two seconds, some fluff here and there as well, also this takes place over many months just saying if time gets confusing

premise: Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each other’s lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.

word count: 30k (she’s a monster sorry guys) 

quick note: this is my first story back in a year(?) give or take some weeks!! kind of nervous to post & not sure if my writing has declined in anyway but nonetheless here is the beast that has been sitting on my computer since April 2019!! quick disclaimer I don’t know much about boxing so if I get stuff wrong - I apologize!! please enjoy & let me know what you think ❤️happy 7 years BTS!

recommended songs for reading: pray (JRY, RuthAnne), mushroom chocolate (6lack, quin), hallucinate (dua lipa), wus good/curious (partynextdoor)

_____

The evening was slow—after all, it was only a Wednesday. You had just finished serving a table of two—a young man and young woman—presumably on a midweek date. You didn’t recognize either of them which wasn’t surprising considering the campus grossed about 20,000 people. You began to wipe down tables out of boredom, glancing at the clock every two minutes hoping it would jump to when your shift was over in forty-five minutes. Thankfully, you didn’t have much work to do when you got home, but you are wishing to get in bed before 10:30 to get a full eight hours of sleep for your lectures tomorrow—something you had not had in about two months. Most days, like today, you were running on five hours of sleep and five cups of coffee. It wasn’t healthy, you knew that much, but it’s how you had to live your life. Your schedule was too demanding to hit the snooze button multiple times. You had shit to do—and getting your degree was the top priority.

“Y/N,” your coworker, Mark, called your name from behind of the counter.

“Yeah?” You respond.

“Will you come help me clean this out?” He asks you and you nod diligently.

“Of course,” you say, dropping your current task of wiping already clean tables. Mark was the one student that worked here you could stand to be around. He was very much like you in the sense that school came before anything—he too was on a full academic scholarship. He worked here before you, but he made you feel the most comfortable out of everyone. You would consider him a close friend at this point.

The espresso machine was a pain in the ass to clean and did call for two people most of the time. Besides, you would rather smell the remnants of coffee beans than the harsh chemicals of bleach gliding across a table.

“You have much work to do after your shift?” He asks you.

“No, thank god,” you shake your head, “I got most of my shit done between my classes today. You?”

“I have to write a ten page paper by midnight,” he sighs, “And guess how many pages I have started.”

You give him a short glance, “I’m gonna take a wild guess and say zero.”

“Damn right,” he smiles. A short silence between you two ensues before he speaks again, “Oh! Did I tell you I’m graduating early?”

“What? Really?” You look at him and an excited grin plays on his face. “When?”

“Yeah, I spoke to my advisor this afternoon and turns out, the classes I’m taking this semester is all I need for my degree,” he speaks with a relieved tone.

“Wow, that’s awesome,” you say genuinely, “I wish that was me,” you give out a small chuckle.

“I’m just glad I don’t have to keep stressing over this hell-hole,” he laughs, “The sooner I get out of here, the better.”

“I feel you on that,” you say, “I’m proud of you nonetheless, you’ve worked your ass off dealing with this scholarship.”

He gives you a small smile in return but it’s broken by the bell ringing from the door, signaling a new customer has decided to come in. Your eyes break from Mark’s and glance over to the door, your head doing a double take.

Your mouth goes dry when you see them—more specifically—him. 

No, it wasn’t the first time you’ve seen him, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had seen him outside of a frat party on the weekends. And truly, it was your first time getting a good look at him in awhile. You felt nervous—though you had no reason to be nervous. You had known him since long before your days as university students, but since you weren’t plastered in this scenario, looking at him seemed more like a chore than ever.

“You want me to get their table?” Mark asks you and you look back at him.

“No, I got it,” you say, throwing down the cleaning cloth, wiping your hands on your apron.

The small group of boys are too busy in their own conversation to see you approaching them. You clear your throat before grabbing some menus off of the podium.

“Hey guys, welcome,” your voice breaks their conversation. The three men your age turn to you all at once and a small smile erupts from one of them.

“Y/N? I didn’t know you worked here?” Taehyung—another person you knew all too well—smiles and speaks brightly

“Yup,” you say simply, “Just been here a little over a month,” you explain pressing the best smile you can muster up. “C’mon, I’ll get you seated and get your order in.”

You lead them towards the back of the small restaurant, seating them in a booth. As they follow you from behind, you can feel their eyes burning into your back and you feel like screaming at the top of your lungs. They sit down and you pass out the menus.

“What would you guys like to drink?” You ask, putting a hand on your hip.

“I’ll take a coke,” Hobi—you remember his name easily as you see him around in a few of your classes.

“Coke as well,” Taehyung says.

“Jungkook?” His name rolls off your tongue and it sounds foreign. You couldn’t remember the last time you had said it, let alone to his face. His brown eyes meet yours and he clears his throat.

“I’ll just take a water,” he finally speaks, his gaze breaking just as fast as it met yours.

“I’ll get those right out,” a grimace spreads on your face and you turn on your heels to fulfill their drink orders. You hadn’t expected the encounter to be so awkward and have so much tension—but what did you expect?

Your relationship with Jeon Jungkook was a strange one to say the least. You had known him longer than anyone you associated with—you meet each other at the tender age of eight in elementary school. You remember that day so vividly.

You had been assigned a seat right beside of him the first day of school. He kept his eyes away from you. Being the energetic child you were, you were expecting him to introduce himself but—he never did. It actually took being in school a whole week to get him to talk to you. You nudged his arm with your elbow and his eyes meet yours for the first time. You smiled at him, “I like your shirt,” to which he responded a small, “Thank you.” He picked at his nails and you smiled at him again, “I’m Y/N,” though he would already know that sitting beside of you. “I’m Jungkook,” he spoke again with a shy smile. That day would change both of your lives—all thanks to you and your mouth that couldn’t shut the hell up.

Four years later, at the age of twelve, Jungkook was your best friend. For four years, he was the one person you had came to all about your problems—he as well. The two of you would complain equally about school, he would complain about his older brother picking on him, you would complain about your younger sister bothering you nonstop—the two of you were more alike in more ways than you could imagine. Despite getting older and more different, you and Jungkook shared the same friend group. You had met a girl named Kim Jennie during a pre-algebra class and Jungkook had met a lively kid named Kim Taehyung—no they weren’t related but you often joked about it. It was nice having another close friend instead of just having Jungkook—especially a girl. You and Jennie had more in common than you and Jungkook and Jungkook and Taehyung and more in common than you two. But—the four of you clicked and you spent nearly everyday with each other.

At sixteen, a lot of stuff had changed. Yes, you, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jennie had all remained best friends, but high school was definitely not the same as middle school. You and Jennie joined the tennis team, Jungkook and Taehyung joined the soccer team—Jungkook also joining the baseball team—which kept the four of you more separated than you would have liked. The four of you all sat together at lunch each day, but as each day passed, something felt different with Jungkook. And then, halfway through your second year of high school, the news broke that Jungkook had a girlfriend—a cute girl named Yuna—who was actually older than him by a year. You felt indifferent about it. He didn’t speak to you as much as he used to and he would ditch you, Jennie and Taehyung to hang out with her. It didn’t bother Jennie or Taehyung as much as it bothered you—but then again—you had known him since you were eight and it felt weird not being Jungkook’s number one girl. You hated to say it—but you were jealous and you had no idea why.

Two years had passed, the four of you all eighteen and fully legal now. It was the end of your last year of high school and you could not be more ready to leave. Growing up through high school together, the thought of all of you going to the same university was a dream. The four of you were excited to move on to new things. Jungkook and Yuna had broken up a few months prior, not being able to work through the distance of her being away at college. Jungkook soon started molding back to how he was before—texting you throughout the day, complaining, just being Jungkook—you were happy, happier than when he was with Yuna. It was May when you had received the news that you had been offered a full ride academic scholarship. You cried and cried tears of joy—finally busting your ass for so long had paid off. Jungkook was so proud of you, though he didn’t outwardly show it, the way he looked at you when you had told him was all you needed. Taehyung suggested it—a small celebration of sorts for you—a.k.a. the four of you getting absolutely plastered in his basement. Taehyung had managed to steal some alcohol from his parents and before the four of you knew it, beers had been downed and half a bottle of tequila had been drank. You were laying on the floor, giggling at everything Jennie did, dancing around the room with a bottle of vodka in hand. Jungkook had laid down beside of you, his eyes boring deep onto you. You crane your neck and give him a small smile, not realizing how little space was between the two of you. Jungkook supports himself on an elbow and it was then you had realized how handsome Jungkook had actually become. He spent so long away from you when he was dating Yuna, you didn’t realize how much he had grown into his features. That night—was singlehandedly the best and worst night of your life.

You had no idea what came over you, but you stood up throwing out your hand for Jungkook to take. He grabbed it with no hesitation, him towering over you as your chests touched and it was the closest the two of you had ever been. Jungkook had looked over to Jennie and Taehyung, still drinking and acting stupid, before grabbing your hand and pulling you into the closest bathroom and shutting the door. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you grip his shirt tightly. The next few moments are a blur—Jungkook kisses you—actually kisses you. He gripped your waist tightly, pushing you against the door. A small whine emitted from your lips as he pulled away and you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He kissed you again, pulling your thigh up to rest in his hand. This was wrong—so wrong in so many ways. But neither of you stopped until a bang from the other side of the door broke the steamy makeup session.

That night changed everything between you two. Neither of you talked about it ever again. Despite being so drunk to the point of blacking out—you remember every detail—and so did he. That summer, you and Jungkook grew apart. And it was the worst thing to ever happen to you.

Now, at twenty-one, almost through university, you had interacted with Jungkook only a handful of times. You had studied together a few times your freshman year, but after your first year, you could count on your hands how many times you had seen each other. Most of the time, only seeing him at parties with other girls hanging off of him. It was painful to see. Even after 3 years of a drunken kiss in Taehyung’s bathroom, it hurt more than ever to see Jungkook with other girls—but at the same time you didn’t care. You had moved on and so did he. You two were now strangers but your life was good—you didn’t need him like you used to think. And he seemingly didn’t either.

“Y/N? Earth to Y/N?” Mark nudged you out of your obnoxiously long reverie and you jumped out of your skin. “Are you okay?” He asks.

You look down and realize that you haven’t taken the three of them their drinks, the ice now watering them down to shit.

“Y-yeah, I’m just tired is all,” you begin to pour out the drinks to get new ones before Mark stops you.

“Here, I’ll handle them,” he says, “You can go home early, it’s fine,” he smiles.

“A-are you sure?” You ask him, not wanting to leave him by himself.

“Yeah, it’s about closing time anyways. Just head out, I’ll close,” he nods with a smile and you can’t help but to throw you arms around him.

“Jesus, thank you. I promise I’ll make it up to you one day,” you tell him pulling away. You wash your hands quickly and throw off your apron.

“Get home safe,” he says and you tell him the same before grabbing your bag. You glance one last time to the table in the back and unexpectedly, Jungkook is staring at you. It makes your breathing hitch and you turn around on your heel quickly, not wanting to linger on his gaze longer than you need to.

_____

The weekend comes slower than you would like, but it’s Friday which means one thing—time to go out and get a much needed dose of social life. You and Jennie had found yourself at the Beta Tau Sigma crush party at their fraternity house that evening.

“Here you go, m’lady,” Namjoon comes into your peripheral vision, handing you a drink he specially made just for you.

“Thanks,” you give him a small smile. You take a huge gulp without hesitation—you trusted Namjoon with your life. Not only was he on academic scholarship too, he was also the president of this fraternity which meant if he didn’t act straight—he would face serious consequences. The mix of brains, being ridiculously handsome, and being in a fraternity was a recipe for disaster—he was your type—bonafide. You were his type too which is maybe why the two of you clicked so well, particularly in bed.

“My feet are fucking killing me,” you groan glancing down at your heels, rolling your eyes in the back of your head. Namjoon throws an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

“At least you look hot as fuck,” he lips brush against your ear and you give him a glare.

“Isn’t hot kind of a degrading term in today’s world?” You press.

He narrows his eyes at you, “Fine—you look beautiful, cute, sexy—is that better?”

“Much better,” you nod playfully and Namjoon gets bold—pulling you even closer to him for a small peck on your lips. Eyes linger on the two of you but you couldn’t care. So many girls would love to be in your position and you feel lucky to have captivated Namjoon at least for now. Besides, he was good at fucking and you needed stress relief, as did he.

Unsuspecting, Jungkook waltzed his way into the room and he immediately stops when he sees the sight of you and his older brother Namjoon. He had heard rumors about the two of you, which he brushed off—you would never go after someone like Namjoon—oh who is he kidding? You and Namjoon are the same person and it kills Jungkook inwardly. The way Namjoon is nuzzled into your neck and the way you're smiling, giggling to every word he says, makes him feel uncomfortable. You looked so different at parties than how he saw you a few days ago at your work. Your legs looked sexy as fuck in your short black dress, your hair flowed down beautifully as opposed to being thrown up, the way red lipstick painted your mouth made him semi hard. Jesus, how after all this time, does he still think about you like this?

Your eyes break away from Namjoon and your smile falls when they meet a familiar set of doe eyes from across the room. Your breath hitches and Jungkook looks so handsome you want to die. His dark hair is slightly parted, his button up is undone at the top, and his legs fulfill his pants better than any guy here. He downs two shots, not breaking his gaze from you. You feel intimidated by his gaze and presence, despite having seen him at these things multiple times. The only difference is that now—he’s giving you some attention that you weren’t ready for.

Your gaze breaks away from each other when a group of loud boys—including Taehyung as well as Kai, another brother within the fraternity—come rushing into the room, hauling a keg in tow.

“Hyung! Come on,” Taehyung teases drunkenly as they set down the keg. There are many hyung’s for Taehyung in the room to not have specified which one he was talking about, until he deadpans on Namjoon. “Namjoon-hyung, come on!”

Namjoon begins to shake his head in protest, “I’d rather not,” he puts his hands up, keeping his distance from Taehyung, “Gotta keep an eye on this one tonight,” he nudges you and Taehyung’s eyes widen when her realizes it’s actually you, standing beside of his older brother.

“Y/N! Hey! What’s up! Didn’t expect to see you here, especially with this one again,” he narrows his eyes to Namjoon.

“Hi Taehyung,” you give him a small smile.

“Do a keg stand with me?” His eyes bulge out like a puppy dog and your own widens in shock at the question.

“Oh no,” you protest, looking up at Namjoon, “Last time I did a keg stand was freshman year and I said never again,” you explain to him. He gives you a pout.

“Fuck,” Taehyung says, “Well who is gonna do this shit with me then?” He sounds impatient and frustrated.

“Get Jungkook too—he’s been looking over in this direction for too long, give ‘em something to do,” Namjoon says and you look up at him. Did he notice Jungkook looking at you? Shit.

“Hell yeah, that little shit will definitely do it,” Taheyung smirks and yells for Jungkook to come over. Jungkook is preoccupied with a girl before Taehyung breaks his mojo from across the room. Jungkook sees Taehyung and you standing together and he furrows his eyebrows. He excuses himself from his pussy date for the night and saunters his way over towards your direction. You keep your eyes anywhere but Jungkook as he approaches you.

“Hey hyung,” Jungkook greets Namjoon, “Y/N,” he says slowly and you tense up. “What do you want Taehyung?” He spits out. He’s clearly buzzed as the attitude coming off of his tongue is stronger than usual.

“Do this fucking keg stand with me pussy,” Taehyung presses and Jungkook scrunches his nose.

“Fuck no,” Jungkook responds and Taehyung rolls his eyes.

“Come onnnn,” he drags out, begging his life long best friend to do it.

“Absolutely not, I’ve done it once and I said never again,” Jungkook says and your eyes nearly pop out of your head. Taehyung looks at you and Jungkook and shakes his head.

“I swear you two are the same person in a different body, it’s weird,” Taehyung says, “Your loss,” and Taehyung is soon leaving your side to find someone else to do his proposition.

Jungkook is left standing in front of you and Namjoon in an awkward silence.

“Don’t forget, you’re on clean up duty Jeon,” Namjoon raises an eyebrow at the younger man.

Jungkook groans, “Fine, whatever hyung,” his words run together as he gives you a final glance, “See you later Y/N,” is the last thing he says before he walks away to find the girl he was smooching up prior.

Namjoon gives you a weird look before you are furrowing eyebrows at him, “What?” You ask.

“What’s up with you two?” He asks motioning over to Jungkook.

“What do you mean?” You gulp down your drink hoping to hide the nervousness in your tone.

“Didn’t you two use to be like, best friends or some shit?” He asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “Yeah, when we were kids,” you chuckle.

Namjoon doesn’t seemed convinced, “I remember you two hanging out a lot during Jungkook's freshman year here, what happened?”

You shrug once again, “People grow apart,” you answer simply, not wanting to go in detail how one kiss basically ruined whatever your friendship was with him. Namjoon suddenly smiles, a dimple showing in his left cheek.

“You know he talks about how hot you are? Not all of the time, but I’ve heard it before,” he laughs and you freeze in your spot.

“What are you trying to prove by interrogating me Joon?” You say with some attitude. That was the least thing you expected to come out of his mouth.

“Hey, I’m just asking questions!” He defends himself, “I just didn’t know if something happened between you two—like you dated or something and shit got weird, I don’t know… just curious,” he chuckles a bit.

You eyes widen and you feel yourself getting warm, “Oh no, we never dated or…anything like that…” you trail off. “We’ve just grown apart, we’re too different now.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow at you, “According to Taehyung you two are the same person.”

You glare at him, “Get me another drink,” you shove your cup into his hand and see laughs at you before sauntering away for a few seconds. He comes back with a full glass and you down half of it in a few seconds.

“Ew,” you scrunch up your nose. Nice, you think to yourself.

“Maybe you should talk to him? I’m sure having an old friend is nice every once in awhile,” Namjoon continues, clearly interested in your history with Jungkook.

“I have Jennie,” you answer, “Besides, conversation goes both ways. If he really wanted to be friends again, he could talk to me.” You knew that answer was stupid. Jungkook didn’t even speak to you when you were younger. You were the one that initiated the friendship, not him, and you knew that.

“Whatever you say space cowboy,” Namjoon draws out and you give him a glare.

“Did you just quote Kacey Musgraves?” You ask with a small smile on your face.

“Fuck yeah I did,” he smirks, “She’s a gay icon are you kidding me, I’m obsessed with her.”

“Joonie, you’re not even gay,” you laugh.

“So? I love anyone who supports gay rights! Don’t discriminate my quotes!” He defends himself and you cannot help but laugh at him.

“Let’s go dance,” you grab his hand and pull him out of the kitchen onto the main dance floor. Namjoon was perhaps one of the more attractive people you’ve met here in your four years. He oozed sex appeal and charisma, which is why anytime he wanted to hang out or take you to a party—you obliged. If it meant getting in his bed at the end of the night, wearing the heels was worth it.

Namjoon puts his hands on your waist and the two of you dance to music in the crowded dance floor. Namjoon grabs a bottle of liquor from one of his other brothers who you have never met before and the two of you share a nice gulp of the cheap—but very strong—vodka.

You haven’t had too much to drink but you know if you drink anymore, you will not make it back to your apartment. You push the bottle away from you and turn to face Namjoon. His brown eyes stare into yours with a glassy, tipsy appearance, and he smirks at you.

“What?” You question him as his grip gets tighter on you.

“I wasn’t lying when I said you looked hot,” he says smoothly and you roll your eyes yet again.

“How sweet,” you grumble, biting down on your bottom lip. Without a warning, he leans in and pecks your lips gently. The alcohol in your veins surges through you as you lean back in and close the gap. Even in your heels, you still have to crane your neck some to fully reach his stature. His hands grip your waist tightly and you tug at his light brown locks, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

He presses himself into you a little bit harder and you can tell he wants you, his hands gripping one at your waist and the other one in your hair. Everything around you goes blank was it only feels like the two of you in the room together. Unfortunately, your moment is ruined when someone bumps into the two of you, knocking you apart. Namjoon steadies you and he glares at the two girls that ran into you.

“You want to get out of here?” Namjoon says into your ear, his breath fanning over your neck sending chills down you body.

“Yeah,” you nod a little too excitedly and he grabs your hand pulling you away from everyone. Namjoon is taking you up the stairs before someone calls out your name.

“Y/N!” You turn around in Namjoon’s grip to find Jennie holding onto the railing of the stairs, swaying back and forth drunkenly.

“Oh god,” you mutter.

“Is she okay?” Namjoon asks as he follows behind you back down the stairs. No, in fact, she looks terrible.

“Jennie, what’s up? I thought you were with Suzy?” You ask her and her face scowls.

“I was, but then… he showed up,” Jennie says, knowing exactly who she is talking about, “And he brought another girl with him! Y/N, what’s wrong with me? Am I not good enough for him?” Jennie is rambling as tears began to flow down her face. You look at Namjoon as he assesses the situation.

“I-I can get an Uber for her, if you’d like?” Namjoon offers and you nod.

“Please?” You beg and Namjoon grabs your hand squeezing it reassuringly before walking away to get the car.

“Jennie, come on, snap out of it,” you tell her and she continues to sob in your arms.

“Y/N, I don’t get it, I love him and he says he loves me but he does this shit all of the time,” she rambles.

“I know, I know,” you try to calm her down, “Jennie your drunk right now, but you’re so much better than him. I know you don’t realize it, but you are—“

“He makes me feel like shit,” Jennie sighs and you cradle your friend. Unfortunately, Jennie doesn’t have the best taste in men and she finds herself stuck in toxic situations she can’t get out of. You wish you could help more then you do but when Jennie is drunk, it’s hard to get anything through to her.

“Come on, let’s go to the bathroom,” you pull her up before she starts fighting you.

“I don’t need to use the bathroom though,” she pouts.

“Well, you might, let’s go,” you manage to hold her up and get to a bathroom in a hallway that isn’t too crowded. You reach for the handle only to be disappointed that it’s locked. Great.

You beat on the door with your free hand, “Hurry up in there! I have a crisis hanging off of my arm!”

“Hey, don’t call me that you bitch,” Jennie frowns and you roll your eyes, knowing she won’t remember any of this in the morning. You beat on the door again and again and again and finally, someone unlocks it and opens it fully.

The sight makes your eyes widen and your body heat up on fire. In front of you stands Jungkook against the counter zipping up his pants and the girl he was with earlier standing from her knees, wiping her mouth with a smirk. She leaves the bathroom, leaving you standing there with Jennie alone. When his eyes meet yours, his face goes ghostly pale. His mouth parts open and he feels like crawling into a hole to die.

“Y/N, Jennie?” Is all that comes from his mouth.

“Move Jungkook,” you say sternly and he moves to make room for you two in the bathroom.

“Uh, do you need any—“

“Leave Jungkook, I don’t need any help,” you say frustrated at the sight you just witnessed. You don’t know why you felt angry at him. You knew that he slept around like most fraternity boys—but to see him after getting sucked off in a bathroom—was new territory. Not only did it bring up the memory of you and him back in Taehyung’s bathroom all those years ago, it made you physically sick to know that you were just a pawn for him then. Who are you trying to kid? You were nothing to him. Once he figured out what his dick was used for, that’s all he cared about. Christ, you say to yourself, fuck him.

Jungkook leaves the two of you alone and within seconds, Jennie is over the toilet hurling her entire stomach up. You hold her hair back as she heaves into the toilet, trying not to gag yourself.

“Y/N,” she mumbles, “I don’t feel good.”

“I know, just keep it in the toilet please,” you say looking away at the sight.

Thankfully, Namjoon appears at the door. “The Uber is here,” he announces.

“Come on, we’re going to get you home,” you tell her, wiping her mouth with some toilet paper.

“Home?” She asks, “Thank god.”

Namjoon grabs her other side as the two of you carry her outside into the fresh air. You have to admit, the fresh air as sobered you up slightly. You spot the car waiting up front and Namjoon opens the door for Jennie.

“Thank you so much,” you tell Namjoon as he helps Jennie into the car.

“It’s seriously not a problem,” he smiles, “You should go with her,” he suggests and you feel your heart drop.

“A-are you sure?” You ask, subtle disappointment in your tone.

“Yeah, it’s fine—we’ll pick up another time,” he gives you a wink and you smile back.

“Okay, thanks again.”

You load into the back of the Uber with Jennie and you just pray that she doesn’t hurl in the car, for the sake of you and the Uber driver’s car. You were not about to pay the $200 fee for puke in the backseat. 

_____

The next morning comes all too quickly in your deep sleep. When you wake up, you are not expecting Jennie to be in your bed with you. You had nearly forgotten she refused to sleep in her own bed last night, therefore you having to give in to her wishes of sleeping with you. Thankfully, you don’t feel like you have too bad of a hangover. For Jennie though, you know she will probably be in bed all day with a bottle of Tylenol at her bedside.

You check your phone and your eyes nearly burst from your head. It’s 1:07 PM.

“Fuck,” you groan to yourself. You did not need to sleep this late considering you absolutely needed to study for your exams on Monday. Not only was it an exam—it was your midterm exams in your human sciences and financial analytics classes, two classes that were kicking your ass. The longer you laid in your bed, meant the longer you were losing time to cram in your studying. You swig the sheets and blankets off of you to find yourself still in your party dress from last night. You grab a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt from your wardrobe before heading to the bathroom.

Your appearance makes you shudder when you seeing yourself in the mirror. You didn’t even take off your makeup, mascara and lipstick stains spread out on your face. Now it was time to really pray that you wouldn’t breakout from the old layer of foundation on your face. You grab a makeup wipe to get the gunk off of yourself before you step into an insanely hot shower.

You manage to shower quickly, scrubbing your body and face off of any stench left of you from last night. You step out, moisturizing each crevice that you can reach before you throw on your clothes. You feel 200% better now that you have showered and you can hear footsteps coming down from the hallway. Jennie appears at the bathroom door rubbing her eyes harshly.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” you comment and she stretches out her limbs, her dress hiked up far up her legs where her underwear is showing.

“Ugh!” She groans loudly, “My head is pounding. What the fuck happened last night?”

“There’s some medicine out in the kitchen,” you say as you follow her out into your living room and kitchen area. She goes immediately to the medicine cabinet and downs two pills with ease.

“Where are you going?” She asks as you began to gather up your school work into your book-bag.

“I have to study,” you tell her and she closes her eyes again, the sun being too harsh for the light.

“It’s Saturday Y/N,” she says obviously.

“I know,” you zip up your bag, throwing it over your shoulder, “But I have two midterms Monday—I can’t make below a B or I can get in trouble with the dean,” you explain and she nods, her sleepy gaze staring at you.

“Well, have fun. I’ll be here—dying,” she grins and you salute her off, leaving your shared apartment to go to the campus library.

The library is only about a ten minute walk and thankfully, not many students are flocking to the location on a Saturday afternoon. You assume that everyone is either hungover like Jennie or just don’t give a shit enough to come out and study.

You grab a coffee from the small coffee shop outside the library before you go in, sit down, and get to work on your studying. You turn on your classical music radio as you take out out your printed slides, notes, and textbooks. As strange as it is to say, as much as you hated studying—it’s where you felt the most comfortable. You knew you were smart and you knew school was your strongest trait—everyone knew that about you.

You go through each chapter of your human sciences class, writing and rewriting notes on new sheets of a paper. You make flashcards as you go along. You answer the obnoxiously long quiz questions at the end of your textbook as you go along. 

Thankfully, you haven’t had any distractions and before you know it, it’s been nearly two hours since you first sat down. Your coffee is now cold but you don’t care as you need the caffeine to keep you going. You are about to pull out all of your analytics material before suddenly, a coffee cup in placed on the table in front of you. You look at the source and look back down until you look up again. 

“Jungkook?” You ask pulling out one of your earbuds. His face is tired, the bags underneath his eyes prominent. He’s wearing a gray tracksuit, his hair messy underneath his somewhat contained beanie.

“H-hi,” he says simply, “Can I sit?” He asks referring to the chair across from you. You nod as he slings his backpack off and into the floor as he plops down in the chair.

“Hi,” you speak lowly. There’s tension between the two of you. It’s uncomfortable. You hate it, almost as much as you hate the sight you saw last night. “What’s up?” The question is simple, but forced.

He shrugs, “I dragged myself out to study despite my busting headache,” he says scratching the back of his neck.

“Jungkook in the library? To study? Did I hear that right?” You ask and he laughs slightly.

“Yup, unfortunately you did,” he answers before letting out a sigh. “I uh, got you this,” he slides the coffee cup over to you and you furrow your brows. You face heats up. Why would he buy you a coffee? The time Jungkook bought you something was a card and flowers the evening of your high school graduation, why the hell would he buy you a coffee?

“Thanks,” you laugh awkwardly grabbing the cup from him. You take a sip from the cup and realize it’s exactly how you like it. Three creams, an espresso shot, and a dash of vanilla flavoring. “How’d you know this is what I like?” You ask.

“Uh, you told me a few years back,” he says shy, his gaze ripping away from you. “I assumed it was the same, thank god,” he laughs trying to lighten up the mood.

“Thanks,” you repeat, unsure of what to say.

“Uh, how’s Jennie this morning?” He asks you with a genuine concern. You look from him, not being able to hold his gaze without burning up.

“She’s fine,” you say, keeping your eyes on your notes and hands in front of you.

“That’s good,” he says awkwardly. His leg is bouncing uncontrollably underneath the table and he feels like he needs to throw up.

“Why did you buy me this?” You ask him. He wants something, you can feel it.

“Um, no reason, I-I just saw you h-here and I know how much you love coffee,” he stumbles over his words and you meet his gaze again, before giving him a glare.

“Hm,” you mumble.

“Listen Y/N,” he starts, sounding more clear of his words, “I know we don’t really have a relationship anymore but, I-I just wanted to apologize to you about… the bathroom… last night,” he sighs and he hangs his head down for a second.

Your expression is blank and you shrug your shoulders with a small head shake, “Don’t worry about it.”

He nods slowly before a silence falls between you two.

“Listen, um I really have to get back to studying for my midterm tomorrow. Thank you again for the coffee,” you say with a small smile, trying your best to be cordial with him.

He nods getting ready to stand up but he stops abruptly, “What are you doing this week?”

The question catches you off guard.

“Oh, um,” your mouth is dry and it’s hard to find the words, “Probably studying, working, I don’t know,” you shrug again.

“Well uh, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up?” He bits his lip nervously, “We haven’t hung out in awhile, I thought maybe we could catch up?”

Awhile would be an understatement. The boy and you exchange another glance before you begin to nod hesitantly.

“Sure,” you answer simply.

“Cool,” he responds, “You still have the same number?” He asks. The question is weird. How is it that your best friend of so many years has to ask if your number is the same?

“Yeah,” you nod. He nods too, saying a quick goodbye before you watch as his built frame disappears into another corridor of the library, your eyes lingering a little too long on his built frame. What the hell was that?

_____

On Monday, both of your exams go a lot better than you were expecting them to. Your human sciences exam had already been graded and you made a 94 which in turn meant you were over the moon. Now you could only hope for that in analytics.

You know sat across from Jennie at one of your campus’s sandwich shops eating a late lunch.

“I don’t even know why you stress so much about your grades Y/N,” Jennie says, “You always end up with an A.”

“Jennie, I worry because if I don’t get A’s I can get kicked out of the honors program, you know this,” you say with pointed eyes, “Besides, I made a B in that business statistics class I had my freshman year, I’m still pissed about that!”

“Boohoo, I got a C minus in that class,” Jennie rolls her eyes, “All I’m saying is, you just need to loosen up. I know school is stressful but I know that you have to be going crazy.”

“I am going crazy Jennie,” you whine, “I’m just glad we don’t have much longer,” you sigh heavily.

“You and me both,” she adds, “I’m sorry I interrupted your stress relief the other night,” she says.

“What?”

She laughs, “You almost got dicked down by Namjoon and I ruined it,” she pouts and you giggle at her.

“It’s fine,” you shake your head, “He said we could pick it up another time.”

“Good, his fine piece of ass is something you gotta keep,” she smirks. Suddenly, your phone makes a ding on the table and you grab it quickly. Your eyes widen slightly when you see the text message.

[3:32 PM Jeon Jungkook] hey do you still want to do something this week?

“Who is that?” Jennie asks you.

“Uh, nobody,” you shake your head putting the phone back down.

“It most definitely is not nobody—your eyes are huge,” she points out. Dammit.

“Um,” you start, “Well last week at work, Jungkook, Taehyung, and their friend Hobi came in later at night,” you tell her, “And it was awkward and then I saw Jungkook at the party on Saturday.”

“We see him all the time at the parties we go,” she shrugs.

“I know, but then he came up to me in the library the other day…and bought me a coffee,” you finish.

Jennie’s eyes widen. “What?”

“I know right,” you say.

“Wonder what he wants from you?” She purses her lips.

“He asked if he wanted to go out this week,” you shrug, “He said we haven’t in awhile and he wanted to ‘catch up’,” you say.

Jennie’s eyebrows furrow. “Hm,” she mumbles, “Well are you going to?”

“I don’t know,” you tell her honestly, “I think I’ve seen enough of him to last me awhile.”

Jennie grimaces at you, “Come on Y/N,” she says, “You and Jungkook used to be inseparable, I don’t even know what the fuck happened to you two.”

“We just grew apart Jennie,” you tell her.

“Friendships like you and Jungkook don’t just ‘grow apart’,” she uses air quotes.

“Believe what you want,” you mutter, picking at your food suddenly not feeling too hungry.

“Why wouldn’t you go? There’s nothing stopping you is there?” She presses.

“Not exactly, but… I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” you mumble.

“Y/N, he’s your oldest friend,” she says, “You’ve known him longer than anyone else here, I know that you miss him as your friend,” she goes on.

“I don’t know Jennie, we’re not the same people we used to be. We’re not compatible as friends anymore, it’s weird.”

“How can it already be weirder than it is now? It’s weird as fuck that you two grew up together and don’t speak to each other anymore. I’d say go, just hangout, who knows what might happen,” she reasons and you cannot help but agree with her.

You don’t say anything else as you pull your phone back out.

[3:38 PM Me] Yeah I’m free tonight if you want to do something!

_____

Jungkook picks you up at seven on the dot. You feel nervousness settling in your stomach and you suddenly care about your appearance. When you open the door of your apartment and welcome him in, you have to tell yourself to keep your mouth closed.

He’s dressed in a sweatshirt and ripped jeans but he looks…so good? You hope you aren’t overdressed in your dress and denim jacket and he smiles when he meets your gaze.

“Hey,” he greets you and you welcome him into your apartment—a place he has never been.

“Hi,” you say grabbing your keys from the kitchen. “Jennie!” You shout and she emerges from the laundry room

“Yeah?” She stops dead in her tracks when she sees Jungkook. “Oh, hey Jungkook.”

“Hi,” he smiles.

“I’ll be back later,” you tell her, “What are you doing tonight?”

“I have to write a report and I guess I’m going to do your laundry since you’re lazier than shit,” she presses. You throw up your middle finger and turn to Jungkook.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

_____

“Where are we going?” You ask him as you make your way outside, keeping a relative distance between you and him.

“You hungry?” Jungkook proposes, almost with a playful tone.

“Mhm,” you mumble, looking down at the ground as you walk. This was weird… so fucking weird. The last time you and Jungkook had hung out was around two and a half years ago—not even shitting. You wonder if he still liked the same things, had the same hobbies, ate the same food, but you were completely unsure of yourself in this circumstance. The nervousness hasn’t settled in your stomach and your mind wonders if he’s nervous too.

“Alright, c’mon,” he says and you meet his gaze before he changes direction with you in tow.

It’s not even a five minute walk—mind you, in silence—until we reach the place Jungkook had led you to.

“Really Jungkook?” You raise an eyebrow at him as you step into your all too familiar work place.

“What?” He laughs, “The food is good,” he continues.

“I’m starting to think you brought me here for my employee discount,” you press to him and he tilts his head.

“You have an employee discount?” He repeats, “Good to know,” he chuckles and in turn, you return a small laugh, feeling a little more comfortable.

Mark isn’t working tonight, but unfortunately, a girl named Kyla is and you absolutely despise her. Her biggest personality trait is just being a bitch—a bitch for no reason! Sure, you can have your bitchy moments but you’re not going to be a bitch to someone unless they deserve it.

“Y/N… Jungkook,” Kyla says slowly, looking between the two of you. “Just sit wherever you like,” she says. The restaurant is free real estate as you two are the only ones here.

You choose a booth, sliding in on one side, Jungkook on the other.

“Do you know her?” You ask Jungkook once she walks away from your table.

Jungkook looks pale, “I’ve met her, once or twice,” he says and it’s all the confirmation you need to understand that means he’s fucked her once or twice.

You don’t say anything else as you look through the menu, already knowing exactly what you want.

“When did you start working here?” Jungkook asks you.

“Oh, about a month ago,” you say. He already knows that. I guess you and Jungkook are really too that point, huh? Small, dull, repetitive conversation?

“How did your exams go?” He asks, chewing on his bottom lip. He’s nervous—you can sense it.

“Better than I thought,” you answer honestly.

“Hm, let me guess—you thought you did terrible but ended up getting an A,” he reads you perfectly.

“Hey! I don’t think like that,” you say even thought you know that is a fat lie.

“Come on Y/N, you’ve been that way since we were fourteen. Lying sends you to hell you know,” he raises an eyebrow at you and you look away from him to suppress your laugh.

“Fine. I got a 94 on one of them, I don’t know about the other one yet,” you tell him.

“See, you’re a genius,” he says and you shake your head.

“Most definitely not,” you say.

“I was always so envious of you growing up, you just sat there in school and you just… got it,” he says remembering back to your younger days, “All of us were jealous of you,” he adds.

“I can guarantee nobody was jealous of me Jungkook,” you give him a grimace, “We all were stupid in our own ways, maybe you more than anyone else,” you decide to pick on him since you’re feeling more relaxed as the conversation keeps going.

“Hey, no need to shit on me like that,” he gives you a pout.

Your phone suddenly vibrates against the table. It’s probably Jennie, you think to yourself as you flip the phone over. To your surprise, it’s not Jennie—It’s Namjoon.

[7:28 PM Kim Namjoon] hope you had a good day

[7:29 PM Kim Namjoon] mine would be a lot better if you were sitting on my cock right now

Your eyes widen and you flip the phone back over with a slam to the table. Jungkook looks at you curiously.

“Whose that?” He asks.

You want to lie, but Jungkook can tell when you’re lying. “Just Namjoon,” you tell him, “He was asking about some homework.”

Jungkook nods slowly before chewing on his bottom lip again, “You and hyung are good friends?”

Your face drops and you don’t say anything.

“I’m just asking since I’ve seen you guys together at our parties,” he adds while clearing his throat.

“Yeah, we’re friends,” is all that comes from your mouth. Jungkook’s eyes are hard to read but you can tell he knows you’re not saying what you’re actually thinking. What he wants you to do is be honest with him and tell him that yeah, you and Namjoon fuck from time to time, but of course, he doesn’t get that answer.

About twenty minutes later, Kyla is bringing your food.Your stomach growls as the scent of the food comes into your nostrils. The two of you begin eating, keeping some small talk between the two of you.

“Are you still a business major?” You ask him as you chow down on your French fries loaded with ketchup.

Jungkook scrunches his face up, “Hell no,” he shakes his head.

You stop your chewing momentarily, “Oh,” is all you can muster. “I’m sure that went over well with your father.”

Jungkook gives you a short glance, a smirk across his face, “It went as well as you can imagine.”

Growing up, Jungkook was expected to go to college, get a business degree of some kind and him and his older brother were to takeover his father’s company by the time he was 30—you would know, Jungkook would secretly complain to you about nonstop as teenagers.

“What are majoring in now?”

“Photography and film,” he answers boldly.

��Oh, wow,” you tell him, “That’s a big move.”

“I’d rather die than being forced to do something I don’t want to do, that’s no way to live life,” he munches on his burger, his eyes looking straight into yours.

“How’s Taehyung?” You ask him.

“He’s good,” he laughs a little bit, “Would you believe it if I told you he has a girlfriend?” He cocks his head slightly.

“Taehyung? And a girlfriend?” You say in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” he chuckles, “It’s weird though, he won’t introduce me to her, hell he won’t even tell me her name.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “That is weird,” you pause, “Maybe he thinks you’ll steal her,” you smirk jokingly. 

Jungkook shakes his head, “Taehyung’s got more game than I do, trust me,” he says with a laugh. 

“I’m assuming you don’t have a girlfriend?” You ask him nervously, biting down on your bottom lip.

Jungkook stops eating and rolls his tongue on the inside of his cheek, “No, I haven’t dated anyone since Yuna really.”

The confession surprises you and you somewhat don’t believe him.

“Why not?” You press.

He shrugs, “Just haven’t found anyone I like I guess, like, really like, you know?”

You nod understandingly. Before Namjoon (whom you aren’t even dating) you had dated this guy for awhile and he was nice but you were bored as fuck in that relationship. Thankfully, you moved on from that onto better things.

Once the two of you finish your meals, Jungkook pays before you can protest and you leave the restaurant around 8:30 PM. You shove your hands into your jacket and walk along beside of Jungkook, lazily kicking rocks when you come across them.

“So, what did I do to deserve a free meal and a coffee from Jeon Jungkook in the span of two days?” You look up at him and he glances down to you quickly.

“I said I wanted to catch up, how else was I supposed to do that?” He smirks and you hit his arm playfully.

You don’t say anything so he continues.

“I don’t know, it’s just when I saw you last week working, I hadn’t seen you in so long… let alone speak to you,” he pauses, “It made me realize that I miss our friendship, I missed us…” he trails off, looking straight ahead.

“Why didn’t you reach out sooner?” You ask him seriously.

Jungkook hesitates some, “You could have reached out too, the phone works both ways” his words are unexpected, harsh. And they somewhat hurt.

You don’t say anything again, feeling a sting in your chest.

“I didn’t mean it like that Y/N,” Jungkook say, stopping his path to stand in front of you, “It’s just… we haven’t spoken in so long. I feel like you’re a completely different person ever since we got here to university. I don’t know what happened—“

“You don’t know what happened?” Your tone is sharp. “Are you stupid Jungkook?”

He looks taken aback, “W-what?”

“When we were eighteen and you fucking kissed me that’s what happened and that’s when shit changed Jungkook, don’t act like you don’t know,” you sound angry to which, you are. Talking about this gets you riled up.

Jungkook lowers his head, “We should have talked about that, I know but—“

“But what Jungkook? It ruined our friendship and you know it.”

“I ruined it?” He now sounds pissed off. “What ruined our friendship was you acting like I didn’t exist once we got here to college. You blew me off and blew me off time and time again,” he runs a hand through his hair, “I tried to maintain this friendship and you know it. If that stupid, fucking, drunken kiss bothered you that bad, you should have been a big girl and told me.”

You feel frustrated and you feel tears are threatening to spill out of you. You want to comeback with something, but you know he’s right. He did try and you were the one to put distance between you both.

“I-I,” you start but no words come out. “I’m sorry Jungkook. It’s just when we got here, things got more complicated and more stressful, and I couldn’t afford distractions—“

“So I’m a distraction now?”

“What? No, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” you shake your head in protest.

“So, hanging out at fraternity houses every weekend, getting hammered with Jennie every weekend, smoking pot once in awhile, and fucking Namjoon isn’t a distraction? But your best friend of fourteen years is a distraction?” Jungkook’s words come out in a frenzy and you feel slightly attacked.

“Excuse me what? Jungkook no—“ you stop yourself from speaking. You know he’s right but that doesn’t give him a right to attack you like that. “So, what’s your excuse then for not being the bigger person than, huh? Getting sucked off too many times in a bathroom and you realized you don’t need my attention anymore? Huh?”

Jungkook’s eyes darken and you can tell he’s pissed off.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He asks you.

“Jungkook, you’re my oldest friend—“

“You don’t treat me like it—“

“Well neither do you,” you back go back and forth with each other. You’re frustrated. Angry. Sad.

Jungkook is fighting a battle in his head. “I’m sorry okay,” he says, “I think we both can admit we’ve acted shitty to each other.”

You look away from him staring aimlessly at your lap, “I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Neither should have I,” he says. “I just wish you had told me about that stupid kiss, we could have talked through it Y/N. I wasn’t thinking back then.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

Jungkook’s eyes look panicked and he scratches the back of his neck.

“I had a stupid little crush on you at the time okay? And alcohol doesn’t help, it only intensified my feelings.”

“What?” Your mouth drops agape at the confession.

“I know, stupid right,” he shakes his head, “Fuck I wished we had discussed this sooner because this is so embarrassing,” he laughs while shaking his head.

You’re in disbelief. Jungkook liked you? How did you not know? It makes your insides tingle at the thought, but you know you shouldn’t get excited so you drown out the feeling deep within you. 

“Well, that was years ago,” you tell him, “All we can do now is look ahead,” your breath is uneven and shaky.

“You’re right,” he mutters, “I really am sorry Y/N, I-I just want you as a friend again—“

“I forgive you Jungkook. And I’m sorry too.”

What Jungkook does next is unexpected but all too familiar. He grabs your chin and squeezes it in his hand. You swat him away with a laugh as he pulls you in by an arm. You oblige his movements and rest your head on his shoulder as the two of you keep walking. There’s something oddly intimate about this gesture. And the whole atmosphere has changed but you like it—it feels… like home.

“Can I ask you something?” You mumble.

“You just did,” he laughs and his chest rumbles underneath you.

“Shut the fuck up,” you lean up from him with a smile, “Namjoon said you talk about me a lot…?” You trail off your question. You could be sneaky if you really wanted to be.

“He did?” Jungkook panics. Fucking Namjoon, he thinks to himself. “W-what did he say?” He stumbles on his words.

“Just stuff,” you respond hesitantly, “He may or may not have said that you called me hot.” Jungkook freezes beside of you.

“Fucking hell, I’m gonna kill hyung,” he mutters underneath his breath, “Look I’m sorry okay—I was really drunk and I saw you at one of our parties in this short ass dress and fuck, yeah I said you were hot—I’m sorry okay? I know that’s so fucking weird jeez, I’m sorry—“

“Jungkook it’s fine,” you laugh interrupting his rambling. “It’s not weird, I just wanted to know whether or not Namjoon was feeding me shit.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” He asks and you can sense that he is very embarrassed. “I told you, I’m not good with my alcohol.”

You shake your head, “I mean, you’re pretty hot too if I say so myself,” the words tumble from your mouth and you actually want to crawl in a hole and die. Did you just say that?! Jungkook looks at you as you turn your face away from him. Fuck, he thinks to himself. He glances down your body and notices the cleavage coming through your dress and the way you hair is pulled to one side. Fuck, he thinks again, yeah, stupid little crush three years ago my ass.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice his quiet, serious.

“Of course,” you look up at him with a concern face.

“You can’t tell anyone—not even Jennie,” he says, his voice low. You give him a confused look, but nod anyways.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him. He bits at his lip, feeling uneasy.

He takes in a deep breath before exhaling, “When I changed my major a few months back, my parents threatened to cut me off—“

“Whoa, what?”

“And they’re still threatening to if I don’t get my shit straight.”

“Jungkook, I don’t get what you’re saying? Have you done something?” You ask him, feeling already too uneasy about where this conversation is going.

“No, I haven’t done anything—that’s the problem. I haven’t proved to them that I’m worthy for them to keep paying for my school. I haven’t proved to them that I can get a job somewhere. My grades aren’t proving anything to them.”

“What are you gonna do if they cut you off? You can’t pay for this shit-hole by yourself—they know that.” You notice the way his jaw is grinding and his breathing is shaking.

“Please don’t get mad at me,” he mumbles quietly. Oh god. “Recently I started taking up, um… boxing,” he says, unsure of his words.

“…Okay?” You say slowly.

“I’ve been fighting, like underground fighting,” you almost don’t hear him, but then you do, and you want to laugh in his face—but he’s being serious.

“Fighting? Jungkook what the fuck?!” You push yourself away from the comfort of his side, “Are you crazy?!”

“I’m getting paid for the fights—if I win at least,” he tries to sound reasonable but to you, you want to scream at him in anger.

“Jungkook, are you fucking kidding me? You’re fighting? Instead of finding a real job?”

“Y/N you don’t understand—I make thousands of dollars for one fight—it’s my best chance right now.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you shake your head, pulling your hands through your hair in frustration, you cannot believe this man right now.

“What are you going to do about school then? Huh?” You press him.

“I-I was hoping you would help me, at least try to tutor me,” he says hesitantly and your stomach drops. You don’t say anything for a moment, unsure if you want to scream or cry at him.

“So this is the reason why you wanted to rekindle our friendship, so I could be your fucking tutor?”

“What no—“

“Are you fucking kidding me Jungkook? I cannot believe you right now,” your voice is getting louder by the minute. You start to walk away from him back to your apartment by yourself, unable to even look at him right now.

“Wait—no, please Y/N,” Jungkook runs to you, grabbing your hand and pulls you back to him, “I know this is all bad timing but I really did miss having you as a friend and you’re the only person, I could tell this to, at least for now,” he quickly explains.

“What, so you want me to help you through school while you get the shit knocked out of you for money?” You ask him, “Jungkook I don’t want to see you go through that, you have to find another option,” your eyes are pleading with him. His grip moves from your hand to your waist which causes your heart to race irregularly.

“Y/N, please I know it’s not the best but it really is my best option. I need someone there for me and I need that person to be you,” his face is too close for comfort and you back away from him a few inches.

“Jungkook, I don’t know,” you shake your head.

“Please, Y/N, I’m begging you,” he says again.

“Have you told anyone?” You ask him.

“Aside from you, only Taehyung knows—and Yoongi, he was the one to introduce me to it.” Yoongi—a name you’re not familiar with.

“Fucking hell Jungkook,” you lean your head back, trying to contain your emotions.

“Please you can’t tell anyone Y/N, I can get in serious trouble by obtaining money this way.”

“Yeah because it’s fucking illegal,” you spit at him. You find his hand to grip a little too tightly and you want to scream at Jungkook. How could he be so stupid? And how were you going to let him be so stupid?

“I’ll help you with school Jungkook, but the fighting… I don’t know,” you tell him, “You know I’m not going to be okay with that.”

“If you makes you feel any better, I haven’t lost. The most I’ve walked away with is a few scraps and bruises on my arms,” he tries to lighten up your mood but it doesn’t work. “I promise I won’t get hurt, I know what I’m doing,” he nudges you trying to loosen you up some. He hands end up grabbing yours, intertwining them tightly.

“Don’t make me promises you can’t keep Jungkook,” you tell him and his face falls again. Both of you look at your intertwined hands. “At least promise me you’ll be careful,” you plead him.

“Of course. I promise,” he says giving your hand a squeeze. Without warning, he pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly. Your hands snake up against his neck and pull him close to you as well.

His scent is all too familiar and it scares you that you’ve missed out on him growing into the handsome adult he is now. And now, you have to fear for his wellbeing. Fuck. Jungkook pulls away from you and your faces meet a little too close for comfort. His nose brushes against yours, his eyes burning holes into you.

“I’d trust you with my life Y/N,” he speaks again, “And I’m trusting you with this.”

Your breath hitches as his nose brushes yours again. Fuck, you think to yourself. You bite your lip, knowing that you wold absolutely die for this boy and it takes all of you to grip his shirt and push him away from you. You feel less suffocated once your space is empty and Jungkook’s hand stays in yours as he walks you home. It’s a good thing, you think, that you’ve had a stupid little crush on him too or you would most definitely not do this shit for him.

_____

“So,” Jennie says slowly, “How was it?”

You hadn’t even walked into your apartment five feet before Jennie is rushing questions onto you.

“Um,” you pause, taking the time to take off your shoes, “It went... well,” you say, unsure of your words. Did it go well? You weren’t sure considering the two of you were in an argument nearly the whole way home.

“Well?” Jennie asks, curiosity dripping in her tone, “I need more details than that. What’d you do? What did you guys talk about?”

“Um, we just kind of caught up on things,” you knew you had to tread your words lightly. “It felt pretty normal.” You add at the last second, giving her a weak smile. She narrows her eyes at you.

“That’s it?” She somewhat frowned.

“What did you want me to say?” You give her a laugh as you begin to walk back towards your room and undress into your sleepwear. She follows your footsteps closely.

“I don’t know! I was just expecting more, more from you! You seem awfully quiet,” she says plopping down on your bed that she is oh-so accustomed to.

You look through your drawers and pull out a big t-shirt and slip it over your head. You turn to Jennie and give her another pathetic attempt of a smile.

“It’s just weird okay,” you tell her, climbing onto your bed with her, “This was the first time we’ve actually hung out by ourselves in years and I don’t know, it was good, like we picked up where we left off you know?” You knew that was a complete lie but you needed to get Jennie off your case or you were afraid you would let your worries slip.

She lets out a sigh, “I guess so. I do think about high school sometimes and we really had it good… the four of us,” she smiles fondly thinking back to simpler times.

“Yeah… we did,” you agree staring up at your ceiling.

“How’s Taehyung by the way? Did Jungkook mention him?”

You give a glance at Jennie and she’s looking at her overgrown nails. “He’s good, Jungkook said he had a girlfriend which surprised me.”

“Hm,” Jennie shrugged, “Interesting.”

You furrowed your eyebrows while looking at her. “Interesting?” You found her answer odd but she brushes it off.

“Yeah, well I have homework to do that isn’t gonna do itself unfortunately,” she stands up from your bed, “See you in the morning, goodnight.” She throws you a quick wink before she leaves, shutting your bedroom door behind of her.

You let out a sigh of relief when she leaves. As happy as you were that you and Jungkook reconnected some tonight, the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach was keeping you from focusing on the good. You couldn’t believe what Jungkook had gotten himself into. Boxing? For money? You knew Jungkook never had much common sense but this takes it to another level. You now knew one of his deepest secrets and not only could that seriously backfire on you if something went wrong. He said he trusted you with his fucking life for Christ’s sake. Who says that to someone they’ve barely spoken to in two years? Someone who is desperate, you think.

You grab a book from your nightstand for one of your classes and flip to your last read page, trying to rid your mind of Jungkook getting the shit beat out of him. And as much as you read your book and your eyelids fall sleepy, you manage to barely sleep that night, as images of your old friend are burned into your brain.

_____

It wasn’t long after your first meetup with Jungkook that he started asking for tutoring help. Jungkook knew your schedule was busy and he didn’t want to pressure you into anything, but the more you were around Jungkook, the more desperate you were to help him. You have known him for so long and despite all your differences, he truly was and will always be one of your best friends. And best friends helped each other. Right?

“Hey—sorry I’m late,” you meet Jungkook in the back of the fourth floor of the library after your last class of the day. “I had a question about my lecture—“

“Y/N it’s fine,” Jungkook says softly, not looking up from his paper, “Don’t worry about it.”

You set down beside of him and begin to take your belongings out of your backpack and you notice Jungkook has already begun some work himself.

“How was classes today?” You ask him opening up your laptop. You give him a glance and he’s focused on the problem in front of him.

“It was alright, I slept through my first one at ten—“

“What’s that?” You ask as you let your eyes focus a little too close on his face. A cut lined across his jaw and up towards his left ear and you felt yourself begin to panic.  “Jungkook what—“

“Don’t worry about it,” he’s being cold and distant and you don’t like it. You look down his arms and onto his hands and notice some cuts and bruises there too. That’s when it hits you.

“Jungkook did you have a fight recently?” You keep your voice low so no one else could hear. He visibly tenses up beside of you and he adjusts his beanie on his to try and cover his ear area.

“Yeah,” he says simply, his eyes not looking at you one time, still focusing on the paper ahead.

“Jungkook,” your tone is deep and not happy, but you suppose there isn’t much you can do in this situation. Curiosity got the best of you and you ask, “What happened?”

“Let’s not talk about that okay?” He turns to you fully and you inwardly gasp, seeing that his right eye is half blacked behind his glasses. You feel sick to your stomach and your mouth parts. Again, you don’t say anything and just give him a nod.

The rest of the tutoring session with him goes smoothly and Jungkook has significantly picked up his understanding of his classes in a short amount of time, but in the back of your mind you wanted to scream. Scream at him. How could he be doing this to himself? He first told you he was fine. He sure doesn’t look fine. It’s getting close to 7 o’clock when you tell him you have to go get ready for your shift at the diner in an hour.

“We can pick up again whenever you need to,” you tell, “And text me if you have any questions.”

“What are you doing this weekend?” Jungkook completely ignores your sentences and you turn to him, trying not to stare at the faint of blue under his eye.

“Um, I have another shift tomorrow that starts at 7,” you tell him.

“Can you get off?” He asks almost nervously as the two of you begin to leave the library.

You chuckle, “Probably not, why?”

“Well, Taehyung and I are having a small get together at our apartment and I wanted to know if you and Jennie wanted to come?”

He sounds genuine and you know it could be fun and a little different from the chaotic frat scene that you’re used to.

“Sure, I’m sure Jennie will be down,” you give him a smile to which he returns one for the first time tonight. “If I can’t get off work I’ll just come after my shift.”

“Sounds good,” he says and you are about to part ways before he grabs your arm to stop you, “Thanks again Y/N, for helping me out,” there’s a glimmer in his eyes.

“No problem, it’s what a friend would do right?” You give him your best smile although it feels weird saying that. His face drops in the slightest way.

“Yeah…” he trails off, his hand trailing down your arm before letting go, “See you soon?”

You give him a nod, “See you soon.”

_____

Your shift at the diner tonight was being particularly slow for a Tuesday and you found yourself aimlessly making lattes for yourself every thirty minutes. You were slightly jacked from the caffeine but you knew you would need it once you went home to finish off the load of your homework for the night. Bedtime as of right now was looking to be 3 AM, possibly 4. Mark is once again working with you tonight which makes it all the more bearable, but the more you stand behind the counter, sipping your coffee, the more you realize you do not want to waste tomorrow night working.

“Hey, Mark,” you say and he looks up from his book.

“What’s up?” He asks, his eyes focussing on you.

“Would you care…. to possibly… take my shifts this weekend?” You ask slowly, dancing around the topic. His eyebrows furrow and you could tell that is not what he wanted to hear from you.

“I mean… I don’t care to, but can I ask why?”

Shit. You couldn’t say it was to go to a small party. That would be an automatic no.

“Well, I’ve been tutoring someone recently and it's taken away from my own study time, so I really need all weekend to catch up on all my shit,” you say smoothly. Not a complete lie, but he didn’t need to know you would be catching up on your “shit” tonight and not this weekend.

“Yeah, sure whatever,” he waves his hand off, “Just be sure to tell our manager before you leave.”

“Right… thanks Mark.”

“That means you owe me a shift in the future,” he says pointedly.

“Yeah, yeah, read your fucking book.”

_____

Friday was a blur. You went to sleep around 3:45 AM. Had to wake up at 7 AM for your 8 AM lecture, dragged your feet to your other classes, barely had time to eat anything, only consuming coffee to suppress your appetite in the afternoon, and now that you were home you couldn’t wait to lay in your bed for a few hours.

Jennie didn’t have classes on Friday’s—fuck her—so she had been chilling all day when you burst through the door exhausted.

“You look horrible,” she said as soon as you flopped down on the couch beside of her.

“You don’t have to tell me that,” you groan covering your eyes.

“Well you better get rested up before tonight,” she says.

“What’s tonight?” You mumble, nearly drifting off to sleep right then and there.

“Jungkook invited us to his apartment, that’s what you said last night,” she gave you a funny look before shaking her head.

Shit. You had forgotten about that throughout your drowsy state all day.

“Yeah, right,” you pause, looking at her through the crack of your arm, “Wake me up at 7 to get ready.” You stand up planning on taking the fattest nap of your life.

“I-I captain!” Jennie says sarcastically and it’s the last thing you hear before passing out on your bed, not even bothering to put a blanket over you.

_____

Jungkook and Taehyung’s apartment isn’t far from yours. You wouldn’t say the exterior is nicer than yours, but the abundance of buildings shows that their community is much larger than the one you and Jennie share.

“This is right?” Jennie asks as you knock on the door heavily.

“Yeah,” you say, faintly hearing music from the other side of the door.

The door swings open and to your surprise, it’s Taehyung.

“Jennie, Y/N!” He smiles widely at the two of you before ushering you in. “It’s been wayyyy too long! You guys want a drink?”

You take a second to look around their apartment, not seeing Jungkook anywhere. There’s about two dozen people here, some playing pong, others sitting around the living area. You knew Taehyung was feeling a little drunk despite it being only 9 from the way he grabs a couple cups, the entire tower of them falling over.

“How have you guys been?!” Taehyung pours some cheap tequila into your red solo cups and hands them over.

“Good, what about you?” Jennie smiles to him and Taehyung pours another shot for himself.

“Fucking great,” he says before putting his cup out. The three of you bump cups and down the tequila, a familiar burn hitting you instantly. It’s oddly reminiscent, the three of you drinking alcohol like there are no problems with the world.

“Where’s Jungkook?” You ask, giving another glance around the apartment, only recognizing some of his frat brothers, but him still not to be found.

“He went to get more alcohol and some other things,” Taehyung says, pouring another shot for the two of you. “I heard the two of you finally got over your bullshit?”

You furrow your eyebrows and Jennie laughs. “W-what?” You have to laugh too, “Bullshit?”

“You know, how the two of you acted like neither of you existed? God it was so annoying hearing that little bitch talk about you constantly,” he rolls his eyes dramatically and Jennie eyes you suspiciously.

“Uh, yeah—“ you were unsure of what to say, “Heard you have a girlfriend now?” You change the subject quickly and Jennie raises her eyebrows at Taehyung.

“Really?” Jennie says almost passively. Taehyung doesn’t glance at you, only looking to Jennie.

“Yeah,” he says, “C’mon, drink your shit. The night is young and you guys need to catch up!”

“Or you need to slow down?” You offer and only giggles again. You down another shot and at this pace, you’ll be passed out by 11, Jennie by 10. You’ve always handle your alcohol better than her, but a shot every two minutes will do anyone in.

The three of you talk aimlessly, somewhat of an unresolved tension between Jennie and Taehyung that is impossible to avoid until you get some more alcohol in you. You’re about four shots of Jose Cuervo in and sipping on some type of seltzer when your phone buzzes in your hand.

[9:46 PM Namjoon] hey, wrud tonight

[9:46 PM You] at a friend’s place tonight, wbu

Your eyes are having trouble to focus as the alcohol begins to settle in your system. You remember vividly how you barely had any food today and you know you should stop drinking otherwise you might puke everywhere.

[9:48 PM Namjoon] damn, missing you. I believe you still owe me a rain check

You laugh at your phone.

[9:48 PM You] soon, I promise lol

“Jungkook! Fuck yes my brother!”

You instantly look up from your phone and see Jungkook walking through the front door, a case of beer in one hand and a brown bag in the other. He smiles as he sets down the case and bag of liquor as his brothers crowd around him to grab a can.

Do you go up to him? Yes, are you, stupid? But shouldn’t he look for you? What are you twelve?

Your internal monologue is interrupted when Taehyung pulls you over to Jungkook with a small push.  

“Hey Y/N,” Jungkook smiles, grabbing a beer for himself. He’s wearing a hat to cover his forehead.

“Hi,” you smile and he gives you a small, somewhat awkward hug.

“Glad you could make it,” he says, the bruises on his face from the other day already looking a lot better.

“I was not going to spend my Friday night at the restaurant,” you laugh, trying intensely to focus on his face and not zone in and out as you tend to do drunkenly.

“Jennie here?” He asks.

“Yeah, she’s uh,” you pause, actually not knowing where she went. “Oh, she’s playing pong with Taehyung.”

“Come on then,” he reaches out his hand, “Let’s play with them.”

“Jungkook I’m terrible, you know that—“

“I never said you were good, but for old times sake?” His brown eyes bore into yours and you give in, nodding your head and settling your hand into his. His hands are warm—always have been. Slightly rough and calloused but smooth—what the fuck, stop it!

The four of you, girls verses boys, start a new game of pong and you’re sure Jennie is just as bad as you. That’s evident when Jungkook and Taehyung lob four in, one after another. You’re lucky you get one in their cups. Jennie, too drunk at this point, can’t even throw straight. The whole sight is very funny as the four of you laugh like you’re the only ones in the room.

“Come on Y/N!” Taehyung yells, “I knew you were ass but really?!”

“Me! What about her!” You defend yourself as Jennie throws a ball at Jungkook’s head.

“At least Y/N can aim!” Jungkook laughs, defending you as well, rubbing his head from the plastic impact.

The game ends with Jungkook calling island and you don’t even care at this point. Pong was and never will be your favorite. Flip cup was your speciality and even Taehyung knew that. You find yourself sitting with Jungkook on their couch, legs tucked underneath you, watching at Taehyung and Jennie take on another round of pong with Jackson—a fraternity brother—and his long time girlfriend—Mina, maybe?

“Are you even drunk right now?” You deadpan Jungkook with your eyes and he gives you a small smile.

“Nah,” he says, “You are though,” he says pointedly drinking from his beer.

“Hey—“ you point, “Only a little,” you whisper close to his ear and he laughs at you again. “You sir, need to drink.”

Jungkook shakes his head before standing up, your eyes following up his jeans to his t-shirt clad chest. Has he always looked like this? You grab onto his extended hand and he leads you away from everyone and your heart rate quickens. Where are you going? What’s he doing?

To your relief, he takes to the small outside balcony, sliding the door nearly closed as you step out. There’s two other people out here smoking cigarettes that greet you and Jungkook curiously. You have seen these boys before, but you know they don’t recognize you. They obviously think you’re some random girl Jungkook has invited but—if they only knew.

The fresh air feels nice, but you can feel a chill running down your spine and you watch Jungkook’s frame go to a dark corner of the balcony, bending down to pick something off the ground.

“What are you doing?” You ask him and he turns back to you and you send some interesting paraphernalia in his hands.

“Not in a drinking mood tonight,” he says, his eyes leaving yours before focusing on the small glass bowl in his hands. He starts to pack it and you’re watching his every move closely. You never knew Jungkook to be a stoner, but the way he packs it quickly and begins to light it, tells you otherwise. He inhales through the end of the bowl deeply, exhaling once, before quickly taking another hit.

“Goddamn,” you laugh and he starts to cough a little bit, a small laugh coming from him.

Jungkook begins to walk back to the corner before you grab his shirt to pull him back.

“You heard of sharing is caring?” You say and he shakes his head.

“No, you’re drunk, you don’t need—“

“I want too,” you say. You hadn’t smoked in awhile, but you knew you could trust Jungkook. “Come on, I’m fine.”

Jungkook hesitates a little before he holds out the bowl. You take it and hold is securely between your lips. He lights the underside and you inhale deeply. The balcony begins to smell like weed, but it doesn’t bother you, it never has. You exhale and give him a small smile. He puts the illegal substances away and stands beside of you on the balcony.

“Alright, that will be five dollars,” he says and you turn to him, your mouth agape.

“Five dollars a hit? Kiss my ass,” you say and you suddenly begin to feel the effects of the marijuana, which makes you giggle a little too long.

“How was your day?” Jungkook asks you and you nearly feel like you could fall asleep.

“Exhausting,” you mumble, “I got like four hours of sleep last night and one of my professors had the audacity to tell me that my answer was wrong on my homework when literally five other people had the same answer and got it right. And then I had coffee as my meals and had a busting headache until I took the longest nap of my fucking life—“

“Slow down,” Jungkook interjects with a laugh, “Too much information that I’m not processing right now.”

You let out an “ugh” before saying, “I’ve had better days for sure.” You leave it at that. “What about you?”

He smiles before turning to you completely, “I’ve had better days, better weeks for sure.” He almost sounds annoyed now, like something is deeply bothering him.

You let a pause presume between the two of you, unsure of what to say. You know you shouldn’t bring it up, but you can’t help it. The bruises on his face, the cuts on his hands—you needed to know what happened to him. Despite your intoxicated state, you could form sentences and think pretty clearly and you weren’t letting Jungkook out of your sight without explaining himself.

“Jungkook,” you say in a whisper, looking around to see if the other guys had left. They had. “Are you gonna tell me what happened to your face?”

He looks down, almost embarrassed. “There was a fight on Tuesday,” he stops when you furrow your eyebrows at him.

“Tuesday?!” You half whisper, “What the hell are you doing fighting on a Tuesday? Jungkook you said—“

“It wasn’t an official fight Y/N,” he interrupts you, “I was fucking jumped with one of my friends,” he says and your eyes widen. You feel your head spinning and your mouth goes dry. From the weed, alcohol, or the conversation? You’re not sure.

“What?” You ask, worry filling your tone, “Jungkook what the fuck! You said you had this under control.”

“Keep your voice down!” He scolds, “I do have it under control, although you can’t really control when you get jumped.”

“W-why? Who would want—“

“His name is Eric. I beat him at the last real fight and I guess he’s a sore fucking loser. He wants a rematch and everything, said he was injured before the fight, so he sent some pussies to jump my friend Jimin and I.”

The information being taken in wasn’t something you wanted to hear. Was this stupid underground boxing that serious? And how stupid could Jungkook be to continue to do this?

“Well you’re not gonna fight him again,” you pause. He doesn’t look at you. “Are you?”

“There’s a lot of money on the line,” he says.

“Jungkook you’ve got to be joking.”

“I’m not Y/N,” he turns to you again, his body now closer than before. His knuckles gripping the railing are pale and cracked. “If I win this fight, I won’t need anymore money before the end of the year. Hell, I’ll probably even have some left over.”

“Okay? And?”

“Then I can be done with fighting,” he sounds genuine but insincere  at the same time. This greatly improves your posture and you feel your heartbeat calming down.

“B-but I figured you would need more money? Your parents Jungkook?” You stumble over some of your words.

“Y/N you don’t understand the money within these things, it’s insane. Trust me, I’ll be set with money for awhile. I just have to win that fight…”

You want to protest him. Tell him he shouldn’t do it, that he should find a normal job, get away from that stuff—but you stay silent. Jungkook always will be as stubborn as you and he seems to have made up his mind about this fighting stuff awhile ago. At the end of the day, whatever happens to him, isn’t necessarily your business.

“You know I’ll never agree with this,” you shake your head, looking down at Jungkook’s hands. They’ve relaxed against the railing and time has slowed down significantly. Every blink of your eyes seem to last 5 seconds and Jungkook could say the same thing.

“I know,” Jungkook steps towards you, overlapping one of his hands with yours, “But like I said, I trust you and you should trust me,” he almost sounds desperate. “Look at me,” he whispers and you slowly turn your head up. Your noses are nearly touching and you can smell him, your vision clouding in the dark.

“Do you trust me?” He asks quietly, licking his lips and you swallow, trying to find your breath.

You nod your head slowly, “Yes.”

You don’t know who leans in first, but when your lips meet, it’s like a siren goes off. The scene feels all too familiar. His lips are soft and they feel just like you remember. He’s gentle with you, his left hand holding your waist to pull you towards him, your bodies flush together. One of your hands finds their way to his hair and you pull him down closer to you. This feels good, really good—but isn’t this wrong? You two have just rekindled your relationship and you two didn’t even last four weeks before you two are snogging—the very reason your friendship became weird in the first place all those years ago.

You try to pull away, “Jungkook—“ he closes the gap once again and it’s like a drug—touch is like heroin in your veins. Both of you are hungry—hungry for each other. You’re not sure when, but you find yourself backed into the wall of the dark-side of the balcony. The door isn’t in view so anyone inside couldn’t see what was going on right now thank god.

“Y/N,” the groan sends your body into overdrive and he begins to trail his lips down your neck and you’ve pulled him so close to you there is barely room to breathe. It’s gotta be the alcohol—or the weed—or just Jungkook—but you’ve never wanted anyone more in your life. You squeeze your thighs together to find some unrelieved friction and Jungkook senses what you’re doing. He stops you, forcing is own leg between your crotch and you subtly moan.

“Fuck, shh,” Jungkook scolds and it makes you laugh as you check if anyone is coming to the door.

“Jungkook,” you whisper and he closes the gap between you again, covering your mouth gently and you genuinely feel butterflies in your stomach. Jungkook’s hand trails from your waist down to the front of you jeans and you pull away suddenly, “Jungkook w-what are you doing?!”

“Do you want me to do this?” He sounds mischievous as he pops open the button to your pants and you can safely say you never thought you would be in this situation with Jeon Jungkook of all people, but you are not about to stop him.

You kiss him this time, pulling on his hair, eliciting another delicious groan from him. His hand makes it way to your center and you shiver in the cold, his hands warm against your underwear. He rubs you through the material, once, twice, three times before he moves aside the fabric—the wetness covering his fingers instantly. You look towards the door again nervous that someone might walk out here and see the two of you compromised—you would die. Especially if it was Taehyung or Jennie.

“Quiet, alright?” Jungkook whispers and you nod biting your lip as he enters a finger into you. You close your eyes, mouth falling open. Your breathing picks up as he enters a second digit. His fingers are long and calloused as you noticed before but it feels so good. He brings one of your legs around his waist so he can get deeper into your center and a small, squeaky moan escapes from your mouth. Jungkook shuts you up by kissing you again and he begins to move his fingers in and out, curling them in all the right places, sending you into a silent mess.

You and Jungkook shouldn’t be doing this—not here, not right now, not ever. But you’re not doing anything to stop it. Neither is he. Is this suppose to be happening then? No—definitely yes. Wait, what? Your brain is so foggy you can’t even think straight.

Jungkook has added a third finger and it’s becoming harder and harder to stay quiet. Jungkook’s face in the crook of your neck, your neck in his—it’s all a little too intimate but it’s hot and heavy and it feels so good. Jungkook begins to use his thumb to find your clit, which he does with no problem—rubbing there and still moving in and out of you. Goddamn, he knows what he is doing.

“Jungkook, I’m gonna—“

“Shh,” he says, “Bite me, anywhere,” he says and you do as he says, your teeth clamping down onto his shoulder as you feel yourself falling off the edge. Your orgasm comes in a huge wave and it’s one of the best you’ve had in a long time—your body is shaking and you whimper into his shoulder, trying to keep as quiet as possible. Jungkook lets you finish before he pulls his hand out of your pants, letting your leg drop. You two stare at each other for a couple seconds, unsure of what to do now. You knew that Jungkook was hard in his pants but you weren’t sure if he wanted you to do anything about it. Should you ask? No that’s fucking weird. Well it’s fucking weird you just let your best friend of a billion years to give you one of the best orgasms of your life.

“Um,” he speaks first, “We should go back inside,” he says.

You nod, “Yeah, we should.”

You follow closely behind him as he slides the door open and you step back into the much warmer apartment.

“Y/N! Jungkook! What were you guys doing?!” Jennie pops out of nowhere until she steps back, “Fuck never mind, I can smell it,” she laughs, her eyes looking between the two of you. “What’s wrong with you two? Are you fighting again? Jesus fucking—“

“No, we’re fine, just high,” Jungkook gives her a reassuring smile and she nods absentmindedly. She is very drunk and then two of you might have to go home sooner than later.

“I need to call an Uber,” you say grabbing your phone from your pocket.

“I can drive you guys if you want,” Jungkook offers and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Absolutely not, you’re high.” You say pulling up the app on your phone.

“I’ve driven high before it’s not—“

“Jungkook, no,” you somewhat snap at him. This kid really knows how to grind your gears. “Thanks for inviting us, I just don’t want Jennie to do something she regrets tomorrow morning.” You try your best to lighten to mood but it’s not helping. As much progress as you and Jungkook had made the past few weeks, that all feels gone now. There’s heaviness with you and him and you hate it.

“Just let me know when you make it home?” Jungkook’s eyes are hard to read. He looks worried, anxious, high obviously, and other potential obscurities.

“I will, I promise,” you give him a smile and he returns one weakly. You look over your shoulder to find Jennie practically draping herself all over Taehyung. Fuck. “Jennie! Come on! We’re leaving,” you stomp over to the two of them and Taehyung doesn’t seemed bothered by Jennie throwing herself at him at all. If anything, they both seem to like it. “Jennie, quit, he has a girlfriend. Taehyung, you have a girlfriend,” you narrow at the both of them.

Taehyung laughs very drunkenly, “You’re right, come on Jen,” Taehyung pushes her away slightly and she stumbles over her feet.

“Our Uber is almost here,” you tell her and she nods.

“Sounds good,” she gives you a thumbs up. 

“Help me walk her Tae?” You ask and he nods.

As you and Taehyung have Jennie up around your shoulders, you look around the apartment to find Jungkook to tell him bye, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

_____

It had been exactly one week since you’ve seen Jungkook. Since he was fist deep into your vagina, pleasuring you with at least 20 people in the room next to you. It has also been the last time you spoke to him. He didn’t reach out for any tutoring this week which was odd—as the two of you set a schedule for it a few weeks back. You were worried. You knew you should reach out to him and talk about what happened—but something was holding you back. You didn’t want to talk over the phone. It had to be done in person and it just had to be done. You didn’t want to lose Jungkook a second time to another drunken mistake.

Mistake? Since when was it a mistake? Was it a mistake?

You had no idea.

It’s why you’ve found yourself at Jungkook’s apartment a week later, waiting for someone to open the door. You wait patiently and no one answers the door. You’re about to give up when a voice startles you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

Taehyung appears to your left and you jump.

“Shit Taehyung,” you hold a hand over your chest, “I’m sorry, I-I was just wondering if Jungkook was home?”

Taehyung adjusts his backpack. He must be getting back from class. “He’s probably at the gym.”

You nod slowly, “Alright, thank you.”

“No problem,” he says and you’re about to walk away and he stops you again, “Everything okay?”

You open your mouth and close it again, “Not sure,” you tell him honestly. He nods without another word, seeming to understand where you’re coming from.

If your assumptions were right, Jungkook would be at a gym about ten minutes from campus, one he frequented as a freshman all that time ago. You wanted everything to be okay, but now, you were sure you have done fucked it up once again.

The gym isn’t crowded and you don’t recognize any cars to be Jungkook’s so your mood begins to dampen as you walk towards the front door. The bell rings and you probably look like an idiot walking in with jeans and sandals, but your eyes ignore the stares as you try to find Jungkook. You walk through the gym towards the back, your neck craning each direction to find him. It smells of sweat and grit, something you haven’t done too much of lately. You’re about to give up until you reach the back, where a cracked door leads into another section of the gym. You open the crack slowly and the sounds of grunting and hard hits fill the room. You stop in your place as your eyes land on Jungkook, downing boxing gloves, a pair of shorts, and nothing else. You gulp.

He’s hitting a heavy bag hard and fast, his movements halting only for a split second before he strikes again. He’s dripping in sweat and you gulp again. Should you interrupt? He’s definitely not expecting you therefore you probably shouldn’t barge in but you’re already here, so what are you supposed to do?

“Come on Jungkook,” another man’s voice comes into play. You’ve never seen this guy with mint colored hair. “Throw a southpaw, let’s go!” 

Jungkook’s stance quickly changes and he’s throwing his right arm and then uppercutting his left arm with all of his weight. 

“Nice Jungkook,” the voice says again. Jungkook steps back with a smile on his face, looking behind him. 

“Hey,” a different voice yells over and you stop to see who it is. A guy slightly shorter than Jungkook appears in the crack of the door, a wide smile across his face.

“Good news, fight is set,” the guy smiles, although his smile reads less than enthusiastic. You notice some bruising along this guys arms, a large scrap on the side of his face. This has to be Jimin, the other guy that was jumped with Jungkook. 

“When is it?” Jungkook breathes heavily, his hair sticking to his forehead as he tries to push it back through his gloves.

“October thirteenth,” Jimin says, “A Friday.”

Jungkook laughs, “A fucking Friday the thirteenth? How cheesy could they get?”

You swallow harshly. October 13th was a less than three weeks away. You’re sure they are talking about the fight with the guy named Eric that Jungkook mentioned.

“I know right,” the nameless guy says, “But I’m sure you’ll kick his ass once again, waste of your time.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice Jimin,” Jungkook sounds annoyed and you’re starting to wonder if you should have came here at all. 

“Come on, let’s do some more sets,” the other guy says says, patting Jungkook on the shoulder.

You take in a deep breath, hoping that this doesn’t backfire. You take your chance and open the door to the room as if you just showed up. Jungkook, Jimin, and the third guy turns to you.

“Y/N?” Jungkook asks, looking confused, “What are you doing here?”

You glance around the room awkwardly, “Uh, I-uh, went to your apartment to see you if you were a-and Taehyung said you were here, so,” you sound like a babbling idiot.

Jungkook’s eyes soften and it’s hard to not stare below his neck, but somehow you manage.

“Jimin, Yoongi this is Y/N,” Jungkook formally introduces you, “She’s a friend.” A friend. That hurt more than it should have.

“Hi,” Jimin gives you a sweet smile and he seems like a person Jungkook would automatically gravitate towards. Yoongi stays quiet. He’s definitely not someone you would strike as Jungkook’s friend. 

“Sorry if I’m interrupting—I didn’t know…” you trail off, feeling more than awkward in this situation.

“No worries,” Jimin shakes his head, “We were almost done anyways.”

Jungkook’s eyes haven’t met yours since you’ve walked in. He’s staring at Jimin and knowing Jungkook, he’s going to try and leave as soon as he can.

“Wanna meet again tomorrow?” Jimin asks towards Jungkook as he packs up his bag on the floor.

“Yeah, sure,” Jungkook mutters, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. “I’m gonna stay here for a little longer though.”

“Alright,” Jimin says, “It was nice to meet you Y/N.”

You smile to him, “You too.”

Jimin and Yoongi leave the room and the silence is suffocating. You cross your arms around your chest feeling vulnerable and insecure. You look at Jungkook and he’s staring at you now. He looks away from you before turning back to the bag, lining up to strike it again.

“Jungkook,” your voice interrupts his chance to punch. He pauses with one more glance to your frame. You begin to walk closer to him wanting to get this over and done with. “What’s wrong with you?” You ask.

Jungkook looks down, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters and you nearly jump out of your body when he begins to strike the bag in quick, calculated motions. The bag moves backwards with each punch and his face tenses up, his mind clearly on one thing and one thing only. You exhale deeply, trying to stay calm. If that’s the way he’s going to play—you won’t keep your cool for long.

“Jungkook, stop,” you raise your voice over his movements and he suddenly quits, looking up at you again. “Don’t do this right now,” you say stepping closer to him again.

“What do you want Y/N, I’m busy alright,” he scoffs, stepping away from the bag, turning fully to you. You wish he didn’t look good drenched in sweat but it was hard to stay focused when he was looking like that.

“You know exactly what I want. You haven’t spoken to me in a fucking week Jungkook,” your words are fiery despite your cool demeanor.

“Is that really that big of an issue? We barely spoke for two years until recently,” he sounds annoyed, but also timid—you can sense something is bothering him.

You frown, “Yeah until recently because I thought we moved past that.”

He doesn’t say anything. And that’s what boils your blood. Tears are threatening to spill from your eyes—not from sadness, but frustration.  

“So is that it? I let you finger fuck me and now I don’t mean anything to you anymore?” Your words are seething and once you say this, Jungkook’s face softens that slightest bit.

“What? No Y/N—“

“Then what the fuck is wrong with you? What have I done?!” It takes all of you not to breakdown right there. You just got Jungkook back. You couldn’t lose him a second time.

“Y/N listen,” Jungkook takes off his boxing gloves, throwing them in the floor, “You haven’t done anything alright. It’s just—complicated,” he shakes his head, stepping closer to you. He tries to grab one of your hands but you pull away from him.

“No, no you don’t get to do that,” you say, “What happened to communicating Jungkook? Wasn’t that our issue all that time ago?”

He looks down and back up. You really wish he would put a shirt on. “I know, I know…” he wanders off, “If I could tell you I would, but I’m just under a lot of stress right now and—“

“Then tell me what’s wrong,” you don’t want to interrupt him, but you feel like you two are going in an endless circle. Jungkook steps towards you once again and this time you don’t back away from him.

“Look, I’m sorry alright. I shouldn’t have cut you off this past week—I just thought it would clear my head,” he says. With hesitation, he grabs your wrists gently, “That was stupid I get that okay? I’m sorry, especially after… what happened,” he says and you can tell he means it. Jungkook is a genuine person, you can’t argue that.

Your face warms up and you feel almost embarrassed. Were you overreacting?

“I just don’t understand,” you mutter, “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions but Jungkook, you’re worrying me. I don’t know what’s going on with us and this whole boxing thing is keeping me awake at night.”

He intertwines your fingers together and it’s comforting. Comfort you’ve been missing ever since a week ago. “Y/N, please just trust me okay? If I can get through these next few weeks I’m set and I promise you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“How can you promise that?” You look up fully at him and you’re a lot closer than moments ago.

“I don’t to make promises I can’t keep.”

You sure hoped he was right.

_____

Two weeks have gone by since your talk with Jungkook in the gym. He had resumed talking to you normally, although there was still something off about him. Then again, there was something off with you too. The intimate situation the two of you found yourself in a few weeks back, still hadn’t been fully discussed and it bothered you like no other. It bothered you because you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want it to happen again—or even further. Fuck, you shouldn’t be thinking about Jungkook like this. But don’t you have a right to? Jesus you were so confused. It’s why you have found yourself at Beta Tau Sigma once again on a Saturday night, Jennie already lost in tow somewhere, and you’re standing with Namjoon. Even though your mind was clouded with Jungkook, Namjoon was good company at keeping you distracted.

“What’s up with you lately?” Namjoon asks handing you another drink. You furrow your brows before taking a sip. Your face scrunches up at the taste—not the best.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

Namjoon gives you a straight smile, “Don’t play stupid,” he says. You don’t even try to make up a lie. Namjoon is too smart for that.

“I don’t know, Joon,” you sigh, “I’ve just been going through a lot lately I guess,” you mutter over the loud music.

“I get it,” he says, “Wanna talk about it?”

You’re about to answer him when you suddenly spot a familiar head of dark brown hair across the room. It’s Jungkook and he’s with a girl—you recognize her from somewhere. She’s standing in front of him and he’s smirking down at her and says something that makes her laugh. Then you know where you’ve seen her before—the bathroom girl. Fuck her, you don’t even realize you roll your eyes.

Namjoon laughs, “Whoa, what was that for?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“W-what?” You look back to him and he follows where your eyes had been.

“Looking at Jungkook, eh?” He smirks, “Something going on between you two?”

You shake your head immediately, “No. Absolutely not.”

You didn’t know if that was a lie or not. Sure, Jungkook and you may have swapped some bodily fluids recently, but nothing else. You were also keeping a secret of his, one that if Namjoon found out about—would have him kicked out of the frat faster than he could blink. You glance back over to Jungkook one more time and find his eyes scanning the room. They land on you within 5 seconds and he shifts uncomfortably in front of bathroom girl.

“You sure?” Namjoon finds this situation funny. You don’t.

“Shut up,” you push on his chest slightly and he grabs your hand, pulling you towards him.

“Oh I can make you shut up,” he mumbles and you laugh as he closes the distance between the two of you. Namjoon’s lips are always soft and plump but that doesn’t mean he is always the most gentle. Namjoon is rough and sometimes—it’s just what you need. Jungkook’s lips on—

You pull away quickly from him. What the fuck?

“You okay?” He asks with concern.

You nod your head, “Yeah, I, just uh need some air,” you say. It was true—your head was now spinning and the alcohol wasn’t helping. You couldn’t believe you thought of Jungkook when kissing Namjoon.

“Alright, I’ll be by the bar.”

You leave Namjoon’s side and push your way through the hoards of people and loud music. You spot a door towards the back of the kitchen and use that as your opportunity. The air is cool but crisp. Just what you needed. There’s quite a few people outside surrounding a large bonfire keeping warm. You relax against the porch railings, staring aimlessly at the ground beneath you. You pour your drink out, knowing you don’t need to drink anymore of it. You nearly shit yourself when a voice comes up directly behind you.

“Y/N.”

You whip around, clutching your chest. “Jesus Christ Jungkook,” you say. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, a large flannel and sweatshirt covering his torso. He approaches you hastily and you don’t take your eyes off of his.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” he says, obviously trying to make small talk.

“I didn’t either until Namjoon asked me this evening,” you say and you instantly regret bringing up his name. Jungkook stiffens.

“Still good friends with him I see,” he bites his lip nervously, looking over to the bonfire. You squint your eyes at him. He sounds off and annoyed.

“I see you’re still friends with bathroom girl,” you shoot back. You’re not even drunk, barely tipsy, but the thought of Jungkook being annoyed at you and Namjoon nearly sends you. At least you know Namjoon well—the only Jungkook knows about that girl is her fucking mouth.

“Gotta an issue with that?” He runs his tongue against his mouth and he looks at your from the side.

You turn to him and this feels all too familiar. “Yeah, actually I do.”

“Well, I have an issue kissing Namjoon in front of me—are we even?” He cocks his head to the side and you’ve never felt more annoyed yet turned on at the same time.

“Whatever,” you brush him off running a hand through your hair, turning back to your front staring at the fire. “Last time I checked I don’t take orders from you.”

“I know,” he says and you feel him push his body against your side. Your breathing instantly picks up and you bite the inside of your cheek to steady yourself. One of Jungkook’s hands finds its way to your shoulder, trailing it down to your elbow, then pushing it through the crack of your arm to settle on your waist.

“Jungkook,” you say quietly, not wanting to bring any attention to the two of you. Jungkook’s head leans down, his temple brushing against yours. His hand rubs gentle circles on your waist and you inhale his scent deeply. Fuck. “Jungkook… are you drunk?”

He shakes his head, “No, are you?” You believe him. He doesn’t smell like alcohol nor does he seem tipsy.

“No,” you say. Jungkook pulls you impossibly closer to him and your throat feels like its closing up.

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook asks and you turn your head up, your noses brushing together. What? When has he ever been this upfront? You hesitate to answer but soon nod slowly—just once—you needed to feel it again—just once again. He closes the gap between you and you nearly melt into him. One of your hands grabs his face gently, pulling him down to you. Your own hands find their way to his fluffy hair, entangling into the locks. He presses himself into you and you feel your heart beating out of your chest. You let out a small whine when he pulls on your lip with his teeth and it shakes you back to reality.

You pull away from him—your entire body on fire. He’s got you trapped against the railing and you don’t trust the old wood to support your weight much longer.

“Jungkook,” you whisper and you feel something hard pressing into your front and your throat goes dry.

“Come home with me,” he says, “Please.” Desperation. That’s what laces his tone and you’re sure your heart left from your chest. But—you know this isn’t a good idea. Blame it on being sober, but you’re not sure you should go there with Jungkook. Not right now at least. Your head was spinning and as much as you wanted to—you couldn’t.

“Jungkook,” your eyes focus on his chest, watching your hands grip his shirt gently. “I—We can’t, we shouldn’t,” you bite your lip nervously.

“Please Y/N,” he nuzzles his forehead into yours, his grip on your getting tighter, “I need you, please—“

“Jungkook, no,” you push him off of you carefully and he looks hurt and confused. “I’m sorry, I—I want to but—“

“But what?” Once again, he looks sad and maybe a little angry now? “II’m not Namjoon? Is that it?”

You shake your head, not able to find a good answer in your head. His hands drop from your side and so does your stomach. Without another glance at your frame, Jungkook walks away, pulling at the roots of his hair.

You get home alone that night. Fuck. You think you really may have messed up this time. No, Jungkook wasn’t Namjoon but Namjoon could never be Jungkook. The history the two of you have... god you were so confused. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt gravity pull you to someone more since recently, that someone being Jungkook. As confused as your feelings were, you cry some in your bed. You don’t sleep that night, worried that whatever wedge is driving itself between you and Jungkook again—won’t be fixable this time.

_____

Jungkook, maybe much not to your surprise, cuts you off again the next week. You haven’t spoken or seen him since the party. Since he wanted you to go home with him and you nearly did, but thankfully you used your head some. You missed seeing his face dearly and missed his smile even more. When did things get so complicated with you and him? Ever since fucking graduation in high school—nothing has been the same. It’s been years and years and it’s something you’ve never gotten over. The more you think about it, the obvious reasons begin to show. Maybe Jungkook means more to you than you thought? Maybe he wasn’t just supposed to be your best friend? What if you two had been destined for something else all this time? Or maybe you weren’t meant to be friends at all?

Your thoughts are interrupted when a familiar face walks into your shift at the diner. Taehyung is by himself, his backpack thrown lazily over one of his shoulders. He looks tired, but just like you, getting through the day. His eyes meet yours and give him a small smile.

“Sit wherever,” you tell him and he decides to sit along the bar, sitting across from where you stand.

“Good evening,” he gives you a small smile, running a hand over his face.

“Hey Tae,” you breathe out, handing him a menu. He holds up his hand, not wanting it.

“Just get me a latte, extra espresso please,” he says and you nod.

“Coming right up.”

It doesn’t even take you a minute to make lattes now. The process has become so familiar it’s become second nature. Mainly due to your own obsession with lattes and your determination to perfect them yourself. You top the mug off with some foam before sliding it over to Taehyung. He doesn’t wait for it to cool before taking a big gulp.

“Rough day?” You ask, leaning forward on your elbows.

“You don’t even know,” he grumbles, “I had a quiz in my hardest class today that I didn’t know about, therefore didn’t study for,” he pauses, “I had to pick up all the slack on a group project that’s due on Saturday and then I have had to deal with Jungkook’s dumbass all week and he was at his worst this morning,” he rolls his eyes.

The mention of Jungkook makes your heart flutter yet stomach feel nauseated, “What’s wrong with Jungkook?”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow at you, “Don’t you know?”

“Um… he hasn’t talked to me in a week,” you look down at your hands, your mouth dry.

“Jesus fuck,” Taehyung groans, “No wonder he’s been in such a fucking mood. What did he do?”

You weren’t sure how to go about your answer. Um, yeah, so like Jungkook wanted me to go home with him to have sex and I did too and I didn’t and I don’t know why. Sounds great.

“It wasn’t him. It was me,” you pause, “He asked me to go home with him.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen slightly, a small smirk on his face, “Did you?”

You shake your head, “No, I couldn’t bring myself to. I wanted to but…” you trail off, slightly embarrassed to be telling Taehyung this.

“Goddammit,” he nearly laughs, “No wonder he’s pissy. Between you and tomorrow, kid’s got his work cut out.” You pick up Taehyung joking around but you still furrow your eyebrows.

“What’s tomorrow?” You ask.

“The 13th. Did he not tell you?” Fuck. His fight. Without talking to Jungkook everyday, you had forgotten about the fight.

“He mentioned it.”

“Are you going?” The question catches you off guard.

“What, oh no,” you shake your head, “No, he didn’t ask and I don’t think that’s something I wanna see anyways.”

“Trust me, he wants you there,” he says, “He’s just being a dick.”

“He’s got a funny way of showing it,” you snap. “Every time something happens between us… he shuts me off. I don’t fucking get it.”

“Y/N he does this to everyone when he’s stressed,” Taehyung pauses, “Especially since, you know,” he shrugs. The fights.

You nod, “I get it,” you slump, “It’s still frustrating.”

“You don’t have to tell me that—at least you don’t live with him,” he gives you a laugh and you send a smile in return.

“How do you feel about it?” You ask him genuinely, “The boxing I mean…”

Taehyung squints his eyes briefly, “I think it’s stupid personally,” this answer warms your heart until he continues, “But if I was as good as Jungkook I would probably do it too. The money in these things are insane.”

You raise your eyebrows, “So I’ve heard.”

Taehyung nods before he gets a text on his phone. He reads it before smiling.

“Your girlfriend?” You probe curiously.

He clears his throat, “Uh, yeah,” he responds quickly before turning his phone over. “So, what exactly is going on between you two?”

“Uh, what do you mean?” You laugh sarcastically.

Taehyung deadpans his face, “You know what I mean. I know you guys have this weird chemistry, it’s obvious. Plus he hasn’t shut up about you since you started tutoring him. Y/N this, Y/N that… it’s disgusting.”

Did Jungkook really talk about you?

“Ask him, not me because I don’t even fucking know. I could tell you what Kim Namjoon and I are before I could define mine and Jungkook’s relationship.” You let out a laugh and other eye roll.

“I’m assuming you and hyung are… what do they say? Friends with…?”

“Yeah yeah whatever you wanna call it,” you swat your hand slightly embarrassed.

“Jungkook hates it you know,” he says, switching tones. “You and Namjoon.”

You slightly snort, “And why is that?” You could tell Jungkook didn’t like seeing you with Namjoon, even before last weekend after he voiced it.

“Because he knows Namjoon is the type of guy you’ve always wanted, not him.” This takes you completely off guard.

“Why would Jungkook care about that?” You furrow.

Taehyung shrugs, staying silent this time. You weren’t stupid—you knew what Taehyung was implying by saying what he said. It makes your stomach drop. Maybe Jungkook felt more for you than he supposed to as well?

“So are you gonna come tomorrow?” He asks.

“No Taehyung,” you say, “I don’t want to see Jungkook get the shit beat out of him.”

“Jungkook won’t get the shit beat out of him, I can promise you that.”

You eyes glance over to the door as a small group of people walk into the diner. You don’t say anything else to Taehyung as you walk over to greet them. You seat them and make your way back to Taehyung, but you can’t chat much longer as you now have a table to tend to.

“Listen Y/N,” Taehyung stops you before you can walk back over with menus for the group, “If you wanna come, just text me. Like I said Jungkook wants you there, whether he’s said so or not. Also, another latte please, you’re slacking woman.”

You swat him with the menus before walking away from him. Goddamn, these next 24 hours were going to be hell.

_____

You couldn’t remember the last time you were ever this nervous for someone aside from yourself in a very long time. You remember how nervous you were in high school when you got injured and Jennie had to double with a girl on the bench of the tennis team. You remember being nervous for your parents when you left for college. And now, you don’t ever recall a moment in your life where you have been this nervous for Jeon Jungkook of all people.

It was Friday at 3:43 PM and you day was slow but painless, and you had no official plans set for the evening. Taehyung had texted you, wondering if you wanted to hitch a ride along with him to the match. You had yet to answer him. His text mocking you from your screen and you wanted to pretend that you knew nothing of the boxing match but that was impossible.

[You 3:59 PM] What time should I be ready

You send the message before you could regret it and delete it. Jennie has yet to be home from going to the store and you would need a good, yet believable excuse for your absence tonight.

[Taehyung 4:00 PM] i’ll pick you up around 8

[You 4:00 PM] Sounds good. Have you spoken to Jungkook today?

[Taehyung 4:02 PM] no he’s been quiet all day. have you?

[You 4:02 PM] Nope

You don’t receive another text from him and you slump down on your couch. It had been nearing two full weeks since Jungkook had spoken to you. You felt like all of this was your fault, sending him mixed signals and unsure of your own feelings for him. From the secretive finger fuck to the gentle kiss you shared last week, Jungkook was on your mind 24/7—aside from taking exams of course—but he was all you could think about lately. Growing up, you obviously loved Jungkook and was practically glued to his hip, but even then you don’t recall thinking about him every single fucking second.

You pull at the roots of your hair and let out a frustrated groan. Maybe you should reach out? After all, without your initiation of friendship all those years ago, you wouldn’t be here now.

You pick up your phone and find Jungkook’s contact and before you can stop yourself, you tap the call button. Your hands are clammy and you know he probably won’t answer, but it’s worth a try. The line rings for about thirty seconds before it goes dead. That dumbass doesn’t even have voicemail set up.

Pissed off even more, you slam your phone against the coffee table and let out an exasperated ‘fuck’ before going to your room to take a nap. Fuck Jeon Jungkook, is the last thought you have before you drift off into sleep.

_____

Taehyung picked you up at 8:02, though you told Jennie it was Namjoon who picked you up and the two of you were having a night in. You think she believed it but left her before she could ask anymore questions.

“I just don’t fucking get it Taehyung, one second he’s fine and another he’s like a child throwing a fit,” you filled Taehyung in on how you tried to call him but to no avail.

“You don’t have to tell me how he is Y/N, I fucking live with the guy,” he groans from his drivers seat. “I just think he’s going through a lot right now… with school, his parents, the boxing, you… he’s never handle stress that well you know that.”

You let out a sigh, leaning against the window, “It’s just so frustrating trying to help him only to get cut off like this…”

Taehyung looks at you with an eyeful glance though you don’t notice. “Y/N, in his eyes you’ve cut him off too, you do realize that right?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What? No I haven’t?”

“Come on the little brat can’t keep his mouth shut. I know what happened with you two a couple weeks ago,” he says. You don’t say anything, cheeks getting warm. “And the weeks before that on our fucking balcony—“

“Okay what then Tae!” You interrupt him, too embarrassed by the memory.

“Jungkook is trying Y/N,” he says with a hint of a smirk, “He thinks you’re rejecting him,” Taehyung says matter-of-factly.

“Rejecting? C’mon Taehyung you know that I—“

“I know that you and Jungkook like each other, even though neither one of you have said anything, Jennie says it too.”

You narrow your eyebrows at your friend. “I don’t know what I think about Jungkook okay?” You’re being honest. You know you like Jungkook… but you’re scared of what that entails for the future. You want Jungkook in your future, you just don’t know what the right path is.

Taehyung doesn’t say anything else as he pulls his car into a fairly full parking garage. It’s dimly lit and slightly freaks you out. Taehyung had to drive to the other side of the city to get here and you don’t recognize the neighborhood around.

“Stay close to me, alright?” Taehyung opened your door for you and you nod without any argument. You follow Taehyung out of the parking garage into the chilly air and you huddle by his side. The two of you walk down a couple streets before he turns down a dark, dimly lit alleyway.

“Taehyung what the fuck,” you whisper and come to a halt. His brown eyes bleed into yours despite the darkness and he takes your hand into his.

“It’s okay,” he says reassuringly, “I promise.”

You nod reluctantly and the you continue to walk down the alley, coming to a stop at the end where you spot the familiar face of Min Yoongi. He’s standing down a small flight of stairs beneath you two and he greets Taehyung with a stiff smile.

“Taehyung, what’s up,” he says, his eyes immediately looking over at you, “Y/N?”

You tighten your grip around Taehyung’s hand, Yoongi’s stare quite intimidating.

“She should be on Jungkook’s list.”

You stay quiet knowing Taehyung doing the talking is the best strategy. Yoongi looks down at a clipboard—old fashioned but effective you guess—before nodding.

“You guys are good. Hurry and find a seat, there’s a lot of people down here tonight.”  

“You got it,”  Taehyung gives him a small smile before you drag behind him down the stairs and enter through a heavy door. You already hear plenty of commotion as you enter a huge space a few feet from the door. Your eyes look around and you could see nearly a hundred people just in your line of sight.

“Holy shit,” Taehyung says.

“What?” You get nervous by his tone.

“I’ve never seen this many people here, goddamn.”

“Why are there so many people here?” You spot a large boxing ring, dead center of the room and your mouth goes dry.

“I guess people like rematches?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow at you.

“Where’s Jungkook?” You ask, noticing how some eyes are staring at you, making you shift uncomfortably in your boots.

“Probably in the locker rooms… wanna see him?” He asks.

You bite your lip. “Does he wanna see us?” You hope Taehyung says yes. It’s killing you inside not being able to see him, hear him.

“Guess we’ll find out, c’mon,” he smirks and you follow him closely. As you look around, you do notice people you somewhat recognize. Whether it’s from walking around on campus or some of your classes, all these faces are not too unfamiliar. Taehyung takes you away from the crowd of people, through another set of doors and down another hallway. With this much walking and standing, you would have worn something other than booties. You enter the “locker room” area and you suddenly feel queasy. What if Jungkook is mad that you’re here? What if he doesn’t want to see you after all? What if—

“Y/N?” Your thoughts are broken by a honey-like voice and you focus in on the source. Jungkook sits a few feet away from you and Taehyung, back leaning against a wall. He looks confused, but also pleasantly surprised. “What are you doing here?” He gets up and does the unexpected—he embraces you in a tight hug. You return it without a second though, holding him close to you. He pulls away from you after a few moments and gives Taehyung a small hug too.

“Hey,” you say shyly.

“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks his friend and Jungkook shrugs.

“I’m alright.” Jungkook looks at you again. “I didn’t think you’d ever come to one of these,” he laughs awkwardly.

“Me either,” you say with no expression. As much as you wanted to be happy—you couldn’t. You were pissed at Jungkook for ignoring you and you were pissed that Jungkook was about to fight. You eye his frame, a white t shirt and navy sweatpants hang low on his hips. He looks calm, too calm for your liking.

“Will you give us a minute?” Jungkook suddenly turns to Taehyung and he nods glancing at you.

“I’ll get some seats.”

Taehyung leaves you and Jungkook alone and you nearly feel like crying. What the fuck is this mess?

“Y/N listen to me,” Jungkook says stepping towards you, “I’m so sorry about thess past two weeks. I-I’ve been a dick for no fucking reason and it’s not fair to you.”

You don’t say anything as you stand there with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Fuck I know I’m idiot and there’s no excuse… I’ve just been so stressed lately and you’re the best fucking part of my day—“

“Well why don’t you fucking act like it Jungkook? I’m sick of something happening between us and you acting like a I don’t exist for god knows what reason,” you raise your voice slightly.

“Y/N I,” he pauses, his hands finding their way to your shoulders, “I haven’t been honest with you and,” he pauses again and you feel your heart speed up. What’s he talking about? “I just wanna say—“

“Jungkook, you got five minutes,” the two of you turn to Park Jimin who seemed to come in at the wrong time.

“Fuck,” he says, “We’ll talk after okay?”

You nod hesitantly and before you can push yourself away from him, Jungkook places a kiss on your forehead and it makes your insides melt. Fuck, you meet his brown eyes, biting your lip nervously. 

A revelation springs into your mind; you think you might love him. He pulls you in for another hug, though this is one much shorter as Jimin is ushering you out of the locker room in the blink of an eye.

As much as you wanted to be mad at Jungkook, those thoughts had quickly subsided and replaced with butterflies and nausea. Did you really love Jungkook? You always have, but the feeling in the pit of your heart is pulling you to a different type of love. You cared about him, sometimes even more than yourself. You’ve always wanted the best for him, even if that meant sacrificing your feelings in the process. Now you were stuck between a rock in a hard place, much like you were back in high school when you had a crush on Jungkook. Fuck. And now you have to watch him fight someone like dogs,  

You shake yourself from your thoughts, as loud music flows through your ears and you look around for Taehyung. Luckily, his ashy hair color is easy to spot amongst the crowd and you push yourself to him, squeezing in between bodies and their chatter.

“My bet’s on Jeon,” a voice says.

“Fuck no, Eric isn’t gonna let the same guy beat him twice.”

You try to ignore the snide comments about Jungkook and when you get to Taehyung, he greets you with a smile.

“Hey, everything good?” He asks.

You lick you dry lips, “I don’t know,” you say honestly. Taehyung’s eyes drop and he nods. 

Suddenly, all the lights go out in the venue and a roar of screams and cheers fills the void. You stay still, pressing your body close to Taehyung. It’s not that you feel unsafe, but this environment—it wasn’t for you at all. You heart rate quickens when a man, give a few years on your age, gets into the boxing ring before you, the crowd cheering even louder for him. He bumps a microphone with his palm before bringing it to his mouth.

“Welcome, welcome!” He beams with a smile, “What an outstanding turnout we have tonight! You guys choose a good one to watch because tonight is the rematch of two of the best fighters I’ve seen in a long time…”

“Let’s give a welcome to our first fighter, weighing in at 148 pounds, 5 foot 11, Jeon Jungkook!”

Being an underground fighting ring, there isn’t a posse escorting Jungkook to the ring. He’s got Jimin by his left side, Min Yoongi on the right. Jungkook is shirtless, wearing only a pair of navy shorts, black and white boxing gloves on his hands. He enters the ring with cheers and you inhale and exhale deeply. You look up at Taehyung and he gives you a nod of reassurance to calm down. Jungkook jumps around in place a few times, shaking his arms and shoulders out. From your seat, you can’t read his eyes or facial expression—but he looks calm and unnerved.

“Coming in next, weighing in at 145 pounds, 6 feet tall, Kim Eric!”

Jungkook’s opponent walks in next, three guys surrounding him. He walks slow and steady, his bare chest tattooed beautifully, his boxing gloves a dark red. He enters the ring to cheers and this Eric guy’s gaze doesn’t leave Jungkook’s body one time. Jungkook hasn’t spared one glance at the guy and you find yourself somewhat smiling. Jungkook has always been a cocky-fuck when it’s come to sports which would usually annoy you, but here right now—he looked hot as fuck standing there as if he had no care in the world. Jungkook stands on the left corner of the ring, sitting on a small stool as Jimin and Yoongi talk to him. Jungkook nods, absorbing their information. Eric and his guys do the same.

Suddenly, both men stand and Jimin is putting a mouth guard in Jungkook’s mouth and with one last nod, he finally looks over at Eric, who has already made his way to the center of the ring with the announcer. Jungkook stalks over slowly, his eyes dark and hungry.

“Alright guys, I want a clean fight. No kicking, no cheap shots. If you get knocked down, I give you ten seconds to get up. You look me in the eyes and say you’re good before anymore fighting happens alright. We go for five rounds, unless more is needed. A knockout wins. Touch gloves.”

Jungkook sticks out his gloves for Eric but Eric only stares at him, ignoring the sign of solidarity.

“Fuck you,” Eric says to Jungkook and sends a chill down your spine. Jungkook rolls his eyes, backing away from him, but stays silent.

“Alright… ready… fight!”

Time slows as a bell rings loudly, the cheers get even louder, and you find yourself gripping Taehyung’s arm for support. Jungkook starts to move around the ring slowly, but Eric isn’t having that—immediately rushing to Jungkook to get a few jabs in. Jungkook manages to dodge them perfectly before Eric can corner him. Jungkook keeps his gloves high and never looks away from Eric. Eric comes after Jungkook again, jabbing once—twice—the third time hitting Jungkook square in the face.

“Shit,” you breathe out, eyes widening.

This time, Jungkook comes for Eric, his jabs coming quick and calculated, landing Eric in the body once. Jungkook jabs again and hits him in the face. Eric moves around quickly, Jungkook not quick to follow him. Eric comes after him again, Jungkook blocking his jabs, but missing at the end, leading to Jungkook getting hit in the face once again as well as a body shot.

Eric is coming in hot, throwing punches and jabs left and right, making Jungkook dance around to dodge them. After a few moments, Jungkook begins to fight back, landing Eric square in the face twice. You notice that Jungkook must have busted Eric’s lip as blood now protrudes from his mouth. This seems to send Eric into overdrive and attacks Jungkook quick and fast. You cover your mouth when Eric has Jungkook trapped against the rope, landing body punches after body punches.

“Alright!! Enough, break it up!!” The announcer gets Eric off of Jungkook and Eric starts to laugh in a very showman's way. Jungkook is breathing heavy and he tilts his head—a habit of his that comes out when he’s frustrated or angry. This seems to be both.

Jungkook and Eric continue to throw jabs at one another. Within a few seconds, the whole fight seems to change as Eric manages to slip past one of Jungkook’s blocks and lands him straight on the cheekbone. Jungkook’s body almost freezes before he falls back on the floor and you gasp at the sight.

“Fuck! Taehyung—“

“He’s fine, he’s fine,” he says but his eyes never met yours.

The announcer is on the floor with Jungkook counting down from ten and Jungkook finally sits up when he reaches the number four.

“You good son?” The guy asks Jungkook.

He nods, “Yeah, let’s go.”

Jungkook gets up and walks around, stretching his neck around, waiting for the ref to announce the second round.

“That’s what you get motherfucker,” Eric says walking past him to his corner. Again, Jungkook says nothing before sitting down. Jimin takes out his mouth guard and lets Jungkook drink some water.

“Why is Jungkook letting him hit him like that?!” You ask Taehyung, looking up to him, “He’s getting his ass kicked!”

Taehyung shakes his head, “Jungkook’s smart Y/N… he’s trying to run Eric’s energy out. If Eric keeps swinging the way he right now, he’ll be passed out on his own soon.”

The second round commences and this time, it’s Jungkook who comes out fast. Jungkook soon has Eric trapped against the rope, landing jab after jab. The ref intervenes and lets them get some air. Jungkook’s skin is sweaty and red hot and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look as mad as he does right now.

Eric counters quickly, catching up with Jungkook again, landing punch after punch. Jungkook escapes but Eric sticks out a foot, causing Jungkook to trip. The whole crowd—yourself included—start to yell at the action. The referee pulls Eric back and points his finger at him. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you know it’s a scolding by the way his mouth is moving quickly. You look over at Jungkook who shakes his head disapprovingly. He’s talking to Jimin as Yoongi cares to a cut on Jungkook’s eyebrow.

“He’s a fucking asshole,” you make out Jungkook saying.

The third round starts and it seems both Eric and Jungkook are equally fighting this time. Jungkook’s combinations are cleaner than Eric’s, anyone can see that, but the way Eric keeps landing in on Jungkook—makes you feel like this isn’t going to end well for him.

“Come on Jungkook!” You find yourself yelling in the chaos, your whole body shaking as Jungkook dances around the ring to get away from Eric. Eric has him trapped again, but with Jungkook’s strength, gets Eric off of him to turn the tables. There’s sweat and blood coming off both fighters and it’s got to be the most horrifying thing you’ve ever seen.

“Come on you little bitch,” Eric spits at Jungkook, “Is that all you’ve fucking got?”

Jungkook says nothing again, jabbing when he needs to.

“Fucking hell why won’t you speak to me you fucker?” Eric speaks again.

“I don’t have shit to say to you,” Jungkook finally retorts back. “You lost my respect when you sent those pussies to jump Park and I.”

Eric swings hard and Jungkook ducks, barely missing it by an inch. Eric is tired, Jungkook too, but Jungkook can see a weakness in him now.

“Come on it was all in good fun,” he says with a smirk, “You know what else would be good fun?”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything.

“Kicking your ass,” he pauses and before Jungkook can do anything else, Eric swings down hard, landing on Jungkook’s body knocking the breath out of him. Jungkook stumbles backwards, holding his stomach, he lands again on the ground with a clunk. Eric stands over him, before taking out his mouthpiece, “And stealing your bitch you invited tonight.”

“Goddammit,” you mutter watching the scene unfold in front of you. No one knows what they’re saying to each other over the noise and you honestly couldn’t care. You just want Jungkook to get up and finish this shit.

Jungkook stands up, though with a visible wince in his face. He’s breathing heavy and is filled with pure rage. The fourth bell rings and it doesn’t take long for Jungkook to attack him. Jungkook is fast and furious, landing punch after punch and you’ve never been happier for someone to get their ass kicked. Jungkook lands a punch straight across the face, causing Eric to stumble backwards. Even though you know nothing about boxing, Eric looks exhausted where Jungkook looks ready for more. With everything left in Eric, he starts coming after Jungkook. Jungkook blocks until he can’t block no more, but something in Jungkook’s stance changes. Jungkook steps forward, his right hand landing straight on Eric’s face cause his form to break. Jungkook steps quickly again, his left hand bringing an uppercut to Eric’s jaw.

The room nearly falls silent as Eric loses balance, going down straight on his back and head. When he hits the ground, the room erupts in a roar so loud it nearly deafens you.

“Holy shit!” Taehyung exclaims. The ref is down on the ground, counting down from 10, and then it’s at 5 and then 3 and then—

“Ladies and gentlemen, Jeon Jungkook wins this rematch!” The ref grabs Jungkook’s hand and holds it up over his head and you find yourself jumping up and down, pulling Taehyung down for a hug.

“Taehyung oh my fucking god!” You exclaim. He smiles brightly at you.

“I told you, he knows what he’s doing,” he says and you nod. You couldn’t deny it now—as stupid as Jungkook was for getting involved in this, his talent for the sport was extraordinary. “Come on, let’s get to his locker room,” Taehyung pulls you by your hand and you make your way back to where you were earlier.

Jungkook hasn’t arrived yet, but you find Yoongi already in there, setting out a first aid kit.

“Hey guys,” he says, “Great fight, huh?”

“Yeah, it was brilliant,” Taehyung says. The door opening catches your attention and Jungkook walks through with Jimin.  Your eyes instantly meet and you can’t even stop yourself from running to him and throwing your arms around him. He exhales deeply with a sharp wince, returning your bone crushing grip with his own.

“Alright lovebirds, he needs to get fixed up,” Yoongi’s voice interrupts you two. You hesitantly let him go and he sits down in front of Yoongi, sitting forward on his knees. He’s still breathing heavy, dripping sweat everywhere.

“Fucking hell Jungkook, since when do you box southpaw?” Taehyung pushes his shoulder slightly and Jungkook only laughs as Yoongi wipes away the blood on his eyebrow.

“I’ve been working on it for awhile,” he says, “Just never had the right time to use it… until tonight at least,” he says giving you a glance. “Eric is all talk, no bite. I can’t fucking stand him.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be boxing him again anytime soon,” Jimin says, “He’s embarrassed himself twice now.”

“Yeah, agreed,” Yoongi chimes in, placing one of those bandaids that pull the skin together like stitches above Jungkook’s eyebrow. “No one will want to box you now knowing you can southpaw.”

Jungkook looks at you and you furrow your eyebrows at him. He said he wasn’t going to fight after this, but the way they are talking—it sounds as if he is.

“Well, I think my boxing career is probably over after tonight,” Jungkook speaks up as if he could read your mind. He tears his eyes away from you as the others look confused.

“What?!”

“Why?”

“Jungkook c’mon!”

“Guys,” he breathes out, “I made a promise, okay? Besides, I have enough money now, I don’t need anything else.”

Your features soften as you listen to his words. His promise was to you. A smile grows on your face as you watch his body calm down from his intensified state. Once Yoongi is finished, he packs everything up. The five of you talk amongst yourselves before Taehyung turns to you.

“You ready to go home?” He asks.

“I can take you home,” Jungkook says before you can answer.

“Okay,” you give him a small smile that he returns.

“Okay then, I’m gonna head out, I won’t be home tonight Jungkook,” he says.

“I know I know, at your girlfriends,” Jungkook swats his hand and Taehyung flips him off before leaving.

Jungkook stands up throwing on a shirt and slipping into Birkenstocks. “Come on,” he says to you, holding out his head. You gladly take it and it feels more like home than home ever has.

_____

“Fuck Jungkook, how much money is this?” You ask him as he hands you a white envelope as he unbuckles himself in the driver seat. The envelope is thick and you peak out of curiosity, your jaw dropping.

“I told you,” he says snatching it back from you, “As much food as I’ve bought you lately, hopefully this will last.”

You swat at his sarcastic comment before letting out a laugh. Instead of going home, you asked Jungkook to go anywhere but there. You’re parked outside of his apartment complex, which was fine with you. The two of you needed to talk. Not much talking goes on as a silence falls between you two.

“Y/N.”

“Jungkook.”

The two of you laugh as you speak at the same time.

“You first,” you say, turning your body to face him fully.

He takes a deep breath before speaking, “I know I said it earlier but I really am sorry about this past week. There’s not an excuse that justifies me acting like a complete dick to you, especially when you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

You stay quiet, unsure of what to say.

“And when I said you’re the best part of my day… I fucking mean it. I’m sorry for coming onto you like I have, I just,” he doesn’t finish, his eyes looking everywhere but you.

“Jungkook,” you get his attention again, reaching over the console to grab his hand, “Don’t apologize for that. Yeah, you’ve been a dick each time something happens between us but that’s the apology I care about.”

“I just don’t know how to say it,” he mutters, caressing your hand gently.

“So you’re really not going to box anymore?” you inquire. Jungkook was good, more than good... it couldn’t be easy giving up on that. 

He shakes his head, “No. I told you I didn’t want you worrying about me anymore. I keep my promises,” his smile his sweet and you swear your feel yourself melting more and more into his touch. 

“Jungkook,” you let out a deep sigh, “I didn’t realize how much I needed you in my life until we became friends again. You know almost everything about me and I don’t want anyone else to ever take your place…”

It’s hanging there by a thread—the words on your tongue—and you’re not sure you can say them and they feel constricting—but you know you have to and—

“I love you,” the words come from your mouth and you feel like you could puke. “I don’t know when or why, but I’m in love with you Jungkook. You’re all I think about anymore and I don’t want anyone else when you’re right here.”

Jungkook parts his mouth, staring at you with a look you can’t read. Fuck, you fucked this up for sure.

“Shit—I know that was so rushed and stupid. Fuck I’m an idiot—“

“Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice interrupts you and you try to hide within your own body from embarrassment. With your hand of yours in his, he pulls on it, forcing you closer to him. You look at him wide eyed before he presses his lips against yours firmly. As usual, his lips feel so good and you melt into him. This is good right? What the hell is going on? You pull away from him after a few moments, an unsure look on your face.

He nuzzles his nose against your own before speaking, “I’ve wanted to tell you that since the night of our graduation.”

“Really?” You ask as you feel your palms sweat, heart racing.

He nods, “I’ve been in love with you for god knows how long now.”

A smile creeps upon your face and you let out a sigh of relief. Jungkook watches you with interest, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

“I can take you home whenever,” he says quietly.

You’re quick to shake your head,  “No, it’s okay… I can stay, if you want,” your voice trails off and you suddenly feel shy under his gaze.

You don’t notice how Jungkook bites his lip but he does say, “Yeah. Of course.”

_____

Jungkook’s apartment is how you remember it, though a lot quieter without Taehyung here. You’re sure the reason Jungkook’s apartment is spotless is because of him. He has always been clean and organized and Taehyung… well he was Taehyung.

“I’m gonna get in the shower, my room is in here if you wanna chill,” Jungkook says and you give him a small nod. He rids his shirt before he even closes the bathroom door and it makes you gulp. This is new territory for the both of you. The two of you just admitted your love for one another and you’re about to spend the night with Jungkook? And not in a friend way? Jesus Christ you could be tripping.

You walk into Jungkook’s room and it smells just like him. His bed is neatly made and his desk is sprawled with two computer monitors and some notebooks from school. His walls are decorated as you’d expect—a Korean flag hanging, a ‘Saturday’s Are For The Boys’ flag—typical—and a few Beta Tae Sigma plaques scattered. What catches your eye is a wall of neatly lined photos taped to the wall. You look around at all of them with a smile. Most of them are Jungkook and his frat brothers, Taehyung, a few of his older brother, there’s even a picture of you, him, Taehyung, and Jennie from high school. One that catches your eye the most is one of just you and him. It’s an old picture but the memories from that day flood your mind. It was from your first week of freshman year here at university. Both of your smiles are wide and you two are hugging each other’s frames closely. Jennie took the picture you remember. It makes you smile to yourself, butterflies entering in your stomach. Did you love Jungkook then and didn’t know it? The way you’re looking at him in the picture would say so.

You suddenly feel an urge to be close to him again. You’ve never been a ballsy person but as you look back at the bathroom door that’s closed, your desire to be touched again by Jungkook again overwhelms your senses. Closing your eyes briefly, you don’t need much more convincing before your stripping yourself of your jacket and shoes. You kick off your jeans and sweater, leaving you only in your undergarments. You tip toe to the bathroom, grabbing the handle, opening it easy.

The shower water is loud and there’s steam in the small quarters. Jungkook is humming to himself as you start to take off the rest of your clothing. With a deep breath, you grab the shower curtain, pulling it back. Jungkook’s back is facing you but he hears you instantly.

“Shit Y/N you scar—“ he stops mid sentence as he takes in your naked frame getting in the shower too.

“Hi,” you mumble meeting his eye contact.  

“H-hey,” he nearly chokes on his own air, trying to keep his eyes up from your breasts.

“Scooch,” you smirk at him to move to get underneath the water too. He does as you say watching you curiously. You’re in the process of wetting your hair when his chest is pressed firmly against your back.

“This wasn’t expected,” he says into your ear, his hands moving to grip your waist from behind.

“You’re the one that wanted me to go home with you,” you say giving him an innocent glance over your shoulder. He laughs biting his lip, pressing them against the skin behind of your ear. You lean into the physical contact, feeling almost all of your stress go away instantly.

You spin around to look at him fully as it’s a frenzy whose mouth collides with whose. He leans down to grasp your lips in their entirety, pulling you closer to him than you ever have been. He pulls you away from the water so it doesn’t get in your face as he presses you against the shower wall. His tongue dips in and out of your mouth, his hands free roaming over your breasts and down to your ass, whatever he likes within the moment. Your hands grip his dark locks as he moves his mouth from your mouth, to your neck, down to your chest. He waste no time taking your right nipple in his mouth and you exhale deeply at the feeling.

You pull his face back to yours, kissing him again not able to get enough of his lips. His hands trail down from your ass to the front of your thighs, getting closer and closer to your wet center.

“Is this okay?” He asks as his fingers rub slowly back forth between your entrance. You can barely speak as his touch is setting you on fire but you manage to nod.

“Yes, please, Jungkook,” you say. He enters one finger, then another stretching you out nicely. Fuck you forgot how good this felt with him.

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he breathes heavily and you glance down at his hardening cock. Your mouth waters at the sight. Jungkook lifts one of your legs and starts to take his fingers in and out of you slowly and agonizing. He fingers you deep and rough and you can already feel a climax coming.

“Shit,” you croak out as Jungkook rubs one of your nipples, kissing your neck. There’s a pain at the back of your head at his force pushing you against the wall but it’s easy to ignore when it feels so good below your waist. “Jungkook, I’m gonna come,” you say as the snap inside of you is about to break.

“Come on baby,” his voice is deep and groggy. As if on cue, you feel your climax wash over you and you’re not shy to be loud. You know no one is here so it doesn’t bother you one bit. Jungkook kisses you against feverishly as he pulls his fingers from you. You feel impossibly empty but you know what you want to do and you’re not near anywhere tired. Your hands travel down to his front, grasping his hard dick in your hands. God, he’s so big.

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook seethes through his teeth as you pull on the sensitive skin, all the way from his pubic hair down to the tip. He places a hand beside of your head, leaning forward against your forehead. His eyes are shut tightly and you lick your lips, wanting to take him in your mouth.

You push him away from you slightly and move down to your knees, your face front and center with his beautiful dick. You take no time to put him in your mouth which causes Jungkook to groan loudly.

“Y/N,” he says looking down at you. He’s never seen a better sight. You make sure to keep eye contact as you bob your head up and down his shaft. While one of Jungkook’s hands stays against the wall, his other grips your hair, fisting it into a makeshift ponytail. “Oh fuck—He pulls on your hair and it only makes you want to please him more. Your left hand go to his balls, the right helping you up and down his length. He pulls your hair again and you take as much of him as you can. His tip reaches the back of your throat and you gag around his length and Jungkook thinks he could actually cry. Watching you through half open lids, he decides this isn’t how he is going to come—not tonight at least.

He grabs your hair and pulls you away from him and you’re slightly confused when he brings you to your feet.

“Come on, I need to be inside of you,” he says and you nod eagerly as he turns off the shower. He leads you out of the bathroom in a frenzy, pulling up into his bedroom. You shut the door behind you and he pins you against it, kissing you hard and deep.

Both of you are dripping wet but neither of you care to dry off as he carries you to his bed. You settle on his lap as his hands rest on your waist tightly. Your hands grip his face just as tight but you’re careful not to touch his injury above his brow. You couldn’t believe he was just fighting two hours ago—that seemed like forever ago compared to now. A lot can change in a short period of time and it makes you slightly chuckle against his mouth.  

“What?” He breaks the kiss asking you with a hazy grin.

You shake your head, “Nothing,” you smile pushing his hair from his forehead. You liked seeing it. “I love you,” you repeat. And you probably won’t stop, ever.

“I love you too,” he says, “So much.”

“Let me ride you,” you whisper in his ear and his eyes light up like a child. “Are you clean?” You ask him. 

He nods quickly, “You?” You nod in response and both of you feel excited and anxious. 

You rub your hand against his length again and you hold it up as you adjust yourself to sit on him. As soon as his tip enters you, a shiver runs down your spine. As you sink yourself lower, groans come from both of your mouths, a deep moan erupting from you when you bottom out.

“Oh my god,” you breathe in and out to control yourself.

“Ride me baby,” he says and you start to move your hips against his. He fills up every inch of you and it feels so good. Your hips lift away from his and he chases them with his own thrusts. He kisses your neck as you throw your head back, your hands digging into his shoulders for leverage.  

“Fuck Jungkook,” you say seeing stars in your eyes, “You feel so good,” you whine.

“You have no idea,” he says against your sticky skin, one of his hands bruising into your waist helping you ride him in a fluid motion. “Goddammit,” he says.

As you grind against him, your clit rubs against his pubic hair, sending your toes curling. He senses that you’ve found your sweet spot against him and places his thumb there instead to rub the sensitive bud.

You feel yourself inching closer and closer to a second climax when Jungkook stalls your motion.

“Lay on your stomach,” he breathes and you do as he says climbing off of him quickly. He doesn’t even give you time to get there all the way before he’s grabbing your hips to pull your ass to him. He slides right into you and you nearly scream into his mattress. Your hands grip the sheets as he fucks you deeper from behind. He smacks your ass once, twice sending a loud whine from your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter trying to focus on Jungkook’s whines and small ministrations from his mouth. He reaches forward, rubbing your clit again and you want to die and go to heaven at the feeling. Neither of you try to be quiet anymore as you feel the second orgasm coming over you. You clench and unclench around Jungkook’s length as he stalls his thrusts to feel the action.

“Come inside of me,” you say, knowing both of you are clean and you have an IUD.

“Jesus,” he breathes, picking up his pace again chasing after his own high. As the sensitivity becomes too much, Jungkook finally lets go, coming deep inside of you. He holds your hips close against him, trying to deepen his climax as far as possible. The hot cum inside of you feels good and you moan at the feeling.

When Jungkook finishes completely in you, he pulls out with a sigh. You collapse against the bed, completely spent. Jungkook finds a clean rag in his pile of clean laundry and is quick to clean yourself and him up. You feel like you can barely move as Jungkook joins you in his bed. He turns you over to face him and he kisses you gently which you return happily.

“I love you,” he says for the third time tonight, kissing your nose.

“I love you too,” you entangling your legs together. The room is silent apart from your breathing and you’re about to go to sleep when he nudges you with his hand.  

“Come on,” he says.

“What?” You ask.

“Let’s actually take a shower now since someone wouldn’t let me,” he eyes you with accusation.

You squint at him before flipping him off. “Fuck off.”

_____

The next morning you wake up with Jungkook hugging you from behind, his face nuzzeled in your hair. You have no clue what the time may be, but you since it’s early by the way the birds chirp out the window. You stretch out your arms as best as you could and try to move your legs, but it doesn’t work since Jungkook’s heavy legs are tangled with your own. You’re tempted to fall back asleep but when Jungkook moves behind you, you turn to see his ruckus. You’re met with his brown eyes and you jump slightly, not expecting to see him awake. Both of you let out the faintest of laughs, not saying anything.

Jungkook leans over and kisses your lips, “Good morning.” His voice is groggy and he shuts his eyes again as you fully turn your body to his.

“Good morning,” you respond, watching the way his chest rises and falls gently. “How’d you sleep?”

“Hmm, really good,” he mumbles. You are about to join him in closing your eyes again until a loud rumble comes from your belly. Jungkook laughs.

“Hungry much?”

“Starving,” you groan, “I didn’t eat dinner last night.”

“Why not?”

“I was too nervous before your match… I thought I would yak if I ate,” you answer. Stupid, you know, but it was your train of thought last night.

He opens his eyes again, “Let’s go to the diner for breakfast… employee discount.”

You glare at him, “Is that all I am to you? A fucking employee discount,” you say saracastically.

“And my girlfriend if that helps?” He raises an eyebrow. Your cheeks heat up and you smile.

“Welllll, since my boyfriend is rich now and gets a discount, I’m assuming he’s paying.”

He smirks, “Obviously.”

“Will you take me to my place so I can change? And then we’ll go?”

He nods, his hand caressing the side of your body, “As much as I wanna stay in bed, I could really go for pancakes right now.”

“Waffles are superior,” you remark.

He frowns with a disgusted face, “Get the fuck out of my bed you heathen.”

_____

Jungkook insisted on coming up to your apartment with you because he didn’t want to wait in the car, but you know he just wants to see you change in front of him. Boys are all the fucking same.

As you fumbled with the key, the door opens and whatever Jungkook is saying to you is suddenly drowned out when you see—

“Jennie?”

“Taehyung?”

The names leave yours and Jungkook’s mouth as you watch the scene in front of you. Jennie is sitting on the counter, Taehyung in between her legs with a coffee cup in hand. Could be worse but what the fuck is going on?!

“Shit,” Jennie says pushing away Taehyung. “Hey guys,” she smiles awkwardly. You and Jungkook look at each other confused before Jungkook speaks.

“Uh, Taehyung?” He asks and Taehyung is. as red as a tomato.

“Oh fuck,” Jennie mutters shaking her head. She looks at Taehyung for backup.

Taehyung pinches his nose before speaking, “Um… we’re dating.”

You and Jungkook have the same reaction as your mouth drops.

“Jennie is your secret girlfriend?” Jungkook asks.

“Surprise,” Jennie smiles again looking at you.

You look at Jungkook and shake your head at the four of you. What a fucking cliché.

The four of you go to breakfast together that morning and it’s like old times, just with a sprinkle of something new. As long as the four of you have known each other, you’ve always had each other’s backs. Even now, with you and Jungkook and Jennie and Taehyung—you know that would never change from here on out. Turns out, Jennie just thought her and Taehyung were friends with benefits, while Taehyung was telling everyone he had a girlfriend because he was that smitten with her. The four of you laugh at the situation at hand and you couldn’t believe everyone was back together... like this. As Jungkook’s pancakes and your waffles arrive, Jungkook’s beaming smile lighting the whole room you think to yourself—this is how it’s supposed to be. 

[qyllenhaal]

Good Wives Club [2]

Lee Bodecker x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 4.2k.

Spin-off to American Pie

Chapter One || Chapter Three

Summary: It's been more than a year since she's escaped the ghost of her past but life is never fair to a girl like her. Lee doesn't care that she has a husband, a nice house, and sugary fake friends, he wants what's rightfully his.

Warnings (series): Cheating, smut, violence, housewife kink, period-typical misogyny, age gap (about a ten year difference), manipulation, dark themes all around.

A/N: If anyone wants to be added to future tag list just let me know!

Y/n woke up at 5am with a dry mouth and her head spinning. Her night has been plagued with restlessness and she couldn't stay still. When she did fall asleep, it was for small periods of time. Each time she woke up she was not aware of where she was for the first five seconds, panic almost setting in before she registered the sound of her husband snoring.

The end of her irregular sleep cycle ended because she saw the hallway light was on. She sighed when realized it must be time for her husband to get ready for work. She virtually got no sleep and she'll probably be tired for the rest of the day.

She gets up from their creaky bed and starts walking down the hallway. It takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the brightness as she slowly plods down the hallway. She follows the light to the bathroom where she can hear her husband getting ready for work. On the days he goes in this early Y/n is relieved that she doesn't have to get up and cook breakfast for him.

The door is cracked but she opens it to find him inside. She situates herself in the doorway, watching him shave his face through the mirror.

"Good morning," he spoke with a scratchy voice. Even though Y/n didn't marry Llewellyn for love, she's still attracted to him and likes his company most of the time. She feels an ache inside of her that wants him to take her, but after running into Lee last night she's afraid she won't be able to get Lee's face out of her mind while beneath her husband.

"Good morning. Going in early?"

"Yep. Dad wants to do inventory today since he put it off last week."

"Oh okay," she accepts quietly, ready to leave her husband alone so he can get ready in peace.

However he asks her a surprising question, "hey, did you enjoy last night?"

"Uh, it was fine I guess. Did you?" Her hope is that he at least enjoyed himself somewhat.

"You know I don't like that super fancy stuff like that, but I have to eat crow; it wasn't all that bad and Bodecker's not as bad as I thought. He's kind of a funny guy. I still think he's not as hard on crime like everyone claims he is, but personally, he's not that bad. Florence was nice too. She invited us to dinner on Wednesday night, apparently that's the only night Lee has off. I told her we'd be able to join them."

The turn of events was shocking. Y/n couldn't believe her ears and she thought maybe she indeed was still asleep. Lou was not fond of many people and his only "friends" were his two brothers so him warming up to Lee and Florence left her speechless. So speechless that she didn't register the fact that he accepted a dinner invite for them.

"What?"

"What do you mean ‘what’? You dragged me to that dinner last night and wanted me to be nice, and now you're confused when I do just that?"

"I-I'm not confused...just shocked," she admits truthfully, "I can't believe you want to go to someone’s house who isn't your mother house for dinner —are you sure you want to go?"

"We're going Y/n."

His tone of voice indicates that the conversation is done and over with and the decision has been made. Y/n didn't even get to contest his decision but Lou can tell when Y/n is in a defiant mood. Her folding her arms and walking away was confirmation for him. She stalks her way back to the bedroom where she takes to hiding under the covers.

Lee and Lou under the same roof — it makes her stomach churn just to think about it. They're wildly different from each other but the thing she hates about them is what they have in common.

All she can hope is that this nightmare ends and she wakes back up to a life without Lee's ghost lingering around.

-

She decided to go with a floral dress again. She really wanted to take out the checkerboard dress that made her legs look good and showed off her arms, but Lou would have made her change before she had the chance to step out of the house. The floral print is dizzying, but it's the kind of dress that Lou likes to see her wear.

It's just a small dinner at the Bodecker's house but Y/n opts for kitten heels instead of sensible flats. She feels obligated to look her best despite there being less people to dress for. She's never been alone with Florence save for that day at the grocery store. Florence is always dressed to the 10's and Y/n needs to look just as good, if not better. She claims to hate Lee, but it would be so satisfying if she caught Lee ogling her breasts.

"Are you ready?"

Y/n thought Lou was too dressed up for a home dinner of four. He wore a pinstriped suit and those nice leather shoes he bought himself around the holidays.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she sighs in an attempt to let off some steam.

It was a shorter drive than Y/n expected. Florence hadn't disclosed where she lived before, but Brewer Heights wasn't that for them to live at a distance. The sun was nearly dipped over the horizon and the remaining light that hits their house makes it look like a model home. Everything little aspect and detail Y/n was going to compare herself too. She lives in a nice house, but Florence lives in a nicer house. It tears her up knowing she has the ultimate upper hand over Florence in the form of her own husband and she can't even act upon it. She would royally fuck up her life and their lives too if she decide to let her jealousy get the best of her.

As she walks up their stairs as another man's wife, she accepts that she is jealous. She's always been jealous of Florence even when she didn't know her name. What made her so worthy of all of these things? Lee used to act like he hates the woman so she must be a bitch behind closed doors. It wouldn't be surprising if she is because most people in this town will smile in your face and then gossip about you a minute later.

Lou knocks on the door and only a second later Florence is opening the door with a big smile on her face and Lee right next to her. He wore his police uniform without the jacket while Florence looked like a Lilly Pulitzer catalog girl.

It only took one millisecond of their eyes locking together for Y/n to feel the electricity between her and Lee. She drags her eyes away from his, but she can bet that he has a smirk on her face. He always liked to see her squirm; in a good and bad way.

"Y/n, Llewellyn! I'm so glad you could make it! Why don't you come on in," Florence steps to the side, nudging Lee over with her, to make way for Y/n and her husband.

Her eyes scan over every inch of their house. It's warm, cozy, and oddly comforting. Everything little thing was in its place; perfectly dusted and polished. Y/n is sure that Lee had no hand in decorating this place, it screams Florence through and through.

"Dinner is almost ready. I started the scalloped potatoes a little too late, but it should be done soon! Y/n, do you want to help me set the table?"

Y/n didn't want to leave her husband alone with Lee, but she also didn't want to be in the room with just them. She nods at Florence and follows behind her to their kitchen.

The house smells like Lou's parent's house on holidays. Y/n's stomach rumbles and she doesn't realize how hungry she was. She despises herself for wanting Florence's cooking, but she barely ate today because of how nervous she was.

"I already laid out the place mates, you can place the plates and silverware."

Y/n picks up the expensive dining ware that Florence points towards. She wonders if Florence cooks like this all the time, even when Lee works well into the night.

The walls of their dining room have an awful floral pattern. Y/n is beginning to become sick at the sight of anything that pertains to flowers. The cedar table is perfect for accommodating guests and Y/n wonders how many dinner parties they had in this room. Florence seems to put a lot of stock into being a good hostess. Y/n herself has yet to throw a dinner party at her home, but setting the plates on someone else's dining room table feels like practice. She silently imagines her house filled with Lou's family as she cooks dinner for them.

Florence enters the room and starts placing the dishes in the middle of the table. Her presence takes Y/n out of her fantasy, and when she sees how Florence made a 3-course-meal she feels worse.

"Does the food look good? I tried some new recipes from Julia Child's cookbook to try to impress you and Llewellyn," she admits, "I wasn't sure what you two would like, but Lee loves when I make those recipes from Julia Child and I bet Llewellyn would love it too! I could lend you the book some time!"

"Of course. I love her work!" Y/n lies straight through her teeth. She has no clue who the hell Julia Child is.

Florence grabs one last thing before calling the husbands into the dining room. She places one beer on the coasters designated for Lee and Lou. Lou has never been much of a drinker, but she knows that Lee can knock down a few beers in one sitting. He might be on his best behavior tonight in front of his wife and company.

"Dinner's ready!" Florence called out.

Y/n took her seat on the right side of the table and Florence sat opposite of her. Their husbands come walking in laughing as if they were young boys sneaking back into the house during a family get together. Y/n doesn't like it; she doesn't like it at all. They look too cheery with each other and she knows that Lee is doing it on purpose — she can see it in his eyes when he quickly glances at her. He takes pride in making her uncomfortable. Y/n wishes she had that same affect on him to scare him off a bit, but no matter how chummy she gets with Florence, Lee looks unbothered.

Florence stands up from her seat as if she's presenting the food on the table to an audience. Everything is placed perfectly with the main dish being the middle of the smaller plates.

"This looks great honey, you made a whole feast," Lee walked up to Florence's side and kissed on the cheek. Y/n's eyes are trained on his hand snaking around her waist and giving her a light squeeze before letting go. When she pulls her eyes away from his hands, she sees that Florence almost looks shocked at her husband's affection; Lee is definitely putting on a show for Y/n and it's a damn good one.

Lee sits opposite of Lou and the first thing he does is open his beer. The food isn't even on plates anymore and he's drinking.

"I hope you like Schmidt's, Llewellyn. Lee loves it so it's all we have in the house."

"I'm not one to drink beer often, but I'll try it. And call me Lou, Florence."

Lou was acting out of his normal character. Him only interacting with his family and Y/n left him a bit awkward in the presence of others, but around Florence and Lee he seems to be much...warmer. If Lee was someone else then Y/n would be over the moon, but because it's him she can't even force herself to even look happy about it.

Y/n takes note of how Florence places portions of food on Lee's plate. They were small portions too. She was always strict about what he ate and how much he drank. She's surprised Florence is letting him drink tonight, but she must be trying to look nicer in front of guests.

Y/n was not as controlling as Florence. She always let Lou fix his plate to his liking. She thought it made her a good wife for letting her husband make his own decisions. But Y/n felt a tap on her shoulder after she finished making her own plate. He looked down at his empty plate before looking back at her and nodded towards the food.

"Y/n," he tries to whisper but his tone is rather harsh.

"What?" She whispers back in true confusion.

"My plate."

He looked at her as if she was crazy, as if it was a common occurrence for her to fix his plate. She starts to scramble to save herself from further embarrassment, the sound of silverware against plates so loud. She can feel the stares coming from the other side of the table but she doesn't dare look up.

Her skin began to grow hot. Her husband had embarrassed her in front of Lee and Florence. The worst part was when Florence tried to change the subject to something lighthearted to pull the attention off of Y/n. She felt small and useless. Lou never expected her to fix his plate, but he looked at her as if she was crazy for not doing so. She didn't want to spend dinner almost in tears. This changed behavior in her husband is giving her whiplash and making her dizzy.

"So, Y/n, did you enjoy the other night?"

"It was really nice Florence," she replies sheepishly.

"Susie and I put so much work into planning it. You should join us next time! We're going to start working on the fundraising events for Lee's next campaign-"

"Let's not talk about that tonight Florence," Lee interrupts. It was a moment that would've left Y/n embarrassed if she was in Florence's shoes but Florence was much better at masking her emotions. Only for a split second can Y/n see Florence flinch at his interjection before she just smiles.

"Sorry Lee, you know how excited I get about those things," she masks her apology in a cheery voice.

Dinner basically became a probe of Y/n and Lou's relationship. Florence wanted to know how they met, when they got married, how long they had been together, and what their future plans together were. Y/n let Lou answer the last question by herself because she genuinely didn't know what their future plans were. Lou usually wakes up and decides what major life change they're going to undertake, that's what happened when he decided to move to Brewer Heights.

When the topic of work came up, Y/n thought the coast was clear. Lou talked extensively about the work he does with his father and what his plan is for the next five years regarding the business.

"Once my father retires I'll have to hire someone to do his job. I didn’t go study in school after high school so I can't take over his position, even though it would make things easier."

"I'm sure you can find someone. I know it's rare for someone to leave the city and come to this little town, but Brewer Heights is always a nice incentive!"

"It is nice here," Lou agrees, "and it's quiet. We were in Meade before which is okay-"

"But, it's nothing like Brewer Heights," Florence interjects. "So, Y/n, what did you do before meeting Lou?"

Lee had not looked her way since the plate-fixing incident but his eyes were sure on her now. If his mouth wasn't stuffed with food he'd be grinning from ear to ear waiting for her answer. He knows she's not a good liar, but she's going to have to come up with something.

"I helped my mom with her business. She used to sell fruit preserves out of the house before she passed."

It wasn't a complete lie. She did help her mother label her jars, but that became less frequent when her hours picked up at Tecumseh. Her parents didn't know about her job either; she told them she was a waitress and it was a safe lie seeing as they didn't go out to diners.

"I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure she was a lovely woman if she raised such a lovely daughter! Have you ever thought of continuing her business?"

"Not really. It was pretty small. I still make the preserves sometimes for Lou and I."

"If you wouldn't mind, would you be interested in making some for us one day? You don't have to if you don't want to, but it's just so hard to find any good fruit preserves around town." Florence's social habits were very transparent once you were around her for long; she tends to make it impossible for people to say no to her by making them feel bad about even possibly saying no.

"I'd love to Florence. I have fresh peaches at home and I can make peach preserves."

"Oh I'd love that so much," she fawns, "a jar for me and a jar for Lee! He loves his sweets."

"I'm not too big on peaches, Flo. You know I like cherries more."

"You always have," she leans into him and pats him on the chest before straightening up again.

The audacity of Lee is astounding, however not only is he a cop, he's the sheriff. It's such a cowardly move to pick at Y/n when she can't react, but what someone would call cowardly, he'd call fun. She looks like she wants to disappear from her spot and it scratches an itch for him. He missed seeing her get flustered and if he'd known that it would be much more enjoyable to taunt her while his wife was around, he would have found a reason a long time ago to bring her around.

And as if the night couldn't be more humiliating for her, Lou finished his plate before anyone else. He devoured the food on his plate, like a starved man. Y/n felt embarrassed when her husband went for seconds. He never eats this much at home, even when she makes his favorite meals. It makes her want to reach across the dinner table and smack Florence in the face. She hates her; she hates that she has to smile in her face and be friends with her. It's her own fault for continuing this "friendship" with Florence, but her rage makes her blind to her own faults.

She could ruin Florence's life with one sentence: "I've been fucking your husband for years." She'd cause a scene but it would be so gratifying.

Instead she just shuts her mouth and lets dinner continue without anymore incidents.

-

Y/n thought it would show she was grateful for dinner if she helped Florence with the dishes. She was glad to accept Y/n's help and the two spent their time in the kitchen while Lee and Lou sat on the back porch. With Lee's influence, Lou took another drink out back with him. Y/n wondered what they had to talk about, but she would truly not like to know.

"Your wife cooks like that every night, sheriff?"

"Enough with the title. And she cooks every night, but she went a little overboard since she was happy with having guests," he tells him. If it was anybody else, Lee would just answer the questions and not have any for himself. However, he really wants to know what Y/n has been up to since she's adopted this new image. "How about Y/n? Does she cook for you like that?"

"Not at all. She tries, but she's not the good of a cook," he brings the alcohol up to his lips before pulling away and sighing, "she tries but it's just not her best."

"Her mother didn't teach her how to cook?"

"I don't know much about her family. Her mother was dead when I met her and her father doesn't seem to be doing so well. They're from the same area as my folks but moved when they had Y/n. Maybe she was just too spoiled considering she's an only child."

Y/n's past was a mystery to Lee too, but he's surprised to learn she hasn't opened up to her husband. All he knows is that whether it was her home life or not, something had messed her up and it was almost made worse by her time at Tecumseh. He isn't sure how she made it out, but so much of her old life still bleeds through.

"You know I thought I was getting a good girl. One that would clean and have dinner ready when I get home," Lou continued.

Lee wanted to laugh in his face. Lou is proof that you can come from a smart family and still be dumb as rocks. How could he not know what type of girl Y/n was when he first laid eyes on her? She'd dress just like his sister Sandy; shorts that suffered from mistreatment over the years and a sleeveless blouse that was always stained. He's sure her hair was mussed up that day too. Many people would mistake her for a whore (which many people did see her as one even though she didn't outright sell her body to anyone).

"It can't be that bad," Lee tried to vouch for his former lover. Even he can name some good qualities about her; they just don't include any wifely qualities.

"It's not, but things could be better. Anytime I tell her to shape-up she gets this timid look on her face and flinches a little bit. I try to be nice and gentle but I'm losing my patience with her. I’m not looking to leave her, but what’s the point of marrying a woman who can’t do anything? She won’t even talk to me about having kids — was Florence ever like this?”

“No. Her family is from here so she’s been primed to be a housewife. But I will say it’s not all that fun havin’ a doting wife…she’s overbearing at times and I can never unwind with her around. She’s always on my ass about somethin’.”

Lee felt the need to vouch for Y/n. Anytime he would go to Tecumseh, she would accompany out back or get into his cruiser whenever he told her to. All the gritty things he dealt with at work, everything he kept inside, he dumped it on her. Florence would never sit there to listen to his grievances. Lee would never admit it, but he was vulnerable around Y/n, he knew that she would always be there to listen and he attached himself to that. In the beginning she wasn’t willingly listening to his problems but by the end she was. She took care of him when he was too drunk to go home, or she would let him take his stress and frustration out on her body. However, it doesn’t seem as if Lou is budging; his mind is made up.

“I work long hours. My father is putting more responsibilities on me. I put Y/n in that nice home, the least she could do is not serve me burnt food. Hangin’ around Florence and that Susie woman should have at least influenced her or something,” he continued to complain.

Florence was the last person that would be able to influence a girl like Y/n. Lee didn't know why his wife was seemingly grooming that girl. If anything it was just another person for her to control since Lee started telling her to knock it off. The only time she can get away with controlling her husband is if they're in the company of others where Lee has to be on his best behavior.

Y/n is not the type to be influenced by another woman. The only woman she held in high regard was her mother. Y/n listens to male authority. She listens to a man that will rough her up a little bit but then be sweet on her afterwards. She’s a little fucked up and jaded from her former “profession.” Lee knows this, but not Lou. He seems to know nothing of her past and Lee isn’t going to snitch on her.

“I can talk to Florence and see if she can do something. I know she likes taking people under her wing and shit. She seems to really like Y/n too.”

“I’d greatly appreciate that Lee. I know I sound like I’m hard on her, but I do love her. It’s hard for me to show when she just doesn’t put any effort in.”

"Don't worry. I'll talk to Florence — I'll make everything right."

[princessofprocrastination]

The Waiting Game (Karl Jacobs)

MASTERLIST

summary : he tells you to wait, to be patient, which you follow, but until when can you wait while you watch him flirt with other girls on the internet?

it was simple really. you were just meant to wait. wait for him to be ready, as he called it. 

your friends would tell you that the only thing you’re waiting for is for him to choose you when no one else wants him, as a rebound. they tell you that you’re waiting for the day he stop trying to attract the attention of other women instead of you. 

they tell you that this won’t end, the waiting. they tell you that this was just his way of keeping you around. 

but you don’t believe them. and it’s simple why you didn’t. you love him. and love doesn’t budge. love makes people blind. 

so when he told you to wait, you did. because you loved him, you really did. 

at first, you two were friends. actually not even. you two simply knew each other’s names, no more than that. 

and then as you two progressed from knowing each other’s names to playing among us together with corpse, it was smooth sailing from there. 

you and corpse are close. you even know what he looks like, being this close for years now. and as usual like the protective boy best friend, when he found out that there was something more than just friends between you and karl, he made sure karl knew to not hurt you, or else. 

and it sure did shaken karl up, but that didn’t last long. the dating didn’t last long. it was a short time of bliss you wished you could feel again. but that’s not how time works. it moves forward.

months after months of what seemed to be dilly dally and wondering what each other’s feelings were, you confronted him. you told him that you thought it was time for your relationship to progress, that it was time to move forward together. 

and you thought he was feeling the same about that, you really did, that was the only reason why you felt confident enough to confront him, unlike other times. 

but it was different. it wasn’t what you expected. his answer wasn’t what you expected. 

he told you he wasn’t ready. he told you he needed time before you two could be more than what you were at that moment. you didn’t even know what you were at that point. 

but it made more sense when time went by. he wasn’t ready for a relationship yet, but he was too scared to tell you. 

“i’m just not ready to take the next step.” he told you. and you’d nod your head and tell him not to worry about it. 

“wait for me.” he’d tell you. and you reassured him tha t you would. and you did just that. you waited. 

one month go by, three, seven, ten months then. nothing. your relationship was stagnant. 

corpse would check in with you all the time, made sure you were healthy and that you were happy. and at first, you were. you told him everything. that karl wasn’t ready but you were willing to wait. 

and he praised you for being so patient, for waiting. but, he didn’t think you’d be waiting for over a year. 

sure, he did think it’d be more than six months, given that karl is busy with mr beast videos and his own. but he didn’t think it would be this long. 

but corpse never did say anything about it, not to karl, not to you. he would just listen every time you talked about it. he was happy that he could be there for you. but it broke his heart to see you like that. 

before anyone says the opposite, you and corpse have a strictly platonic relationship. you two were platonic soulmates, as people would say. and the both of you enjoyed the term. you thought it was adorable. 

furthermore, it made you and corpse happy that people weren’t doing unnecessary shipping between the two of you. 

back to the topic, corpse is a quiet man. he stays quiet, but he observes everyone’s moves. he can understand someone’s behaviour without knowing them for long. 

so when it came the time rae made an among us room, including him, karl and you, he wanted to observe karl’s behaviour. 

there were tiktokers on that server, to which was the icing on top of a cake for corpse, since he didn’t really fancy those ditzy people who made content on tiktok. 

you knew how much he disliked some people and made sure that he didn’t say things he doesn’t want the world to know, even though he feels like snapping. you were there to intervene when things went south. 

but something corpse noticed was that karl wasn’t really talking to you. aside from the greetings at the start of rae’s stream, you two didn’t talk very much. instead, he talked to the tiktoker, mostly the girls. 

this confused corpse. he needed to know if you were hiding something from him. something that you didn’t tell him. had karl and you decide to be just friends or was he not seeing something right here?

as both you and corpse are dead with nothing to do, corpse texts you, after sending you back a 8 ball game. 

are you not telling me something? he sent the message. 

? you sent back. you didn’t understand what he meant by that. 

he’s clearly flirting. he sends again. 

no he’s not. you send back. 

don’t lie to yourself. you two have barely spoke today. corpse sends one last text before the game restarts. 

i don’t know what’s going on. you sent back, deciding to be truthful to him. there’s no point in lying to your best friend. 

corpse sighs. he was scared of this. two of his best friends being stuck. 

but he knew what this was. you were stuck in the friendzone. stuck waiting. that was the truth he was scared of telling you. but you deserved that much, right?

you and corpse logged off your computers, now facetiming each other about what had happened. 

“i’m stuck waiting forever, aren’t i?” you asked, even though you knew the answer. you needed someone to be truthful to you and tell it to your face. 

corpse sighs, nodding his head to your not so question, question. 

“you know, i saw the tweets.” you spoke up after a while. 

“i saw him flirting with any girl he found an opportunity to flirt with.” you told him. 

corpse gave you a sympathetic smile. he saw them too, he just didn’t know how to talk about it.

“i’m not stupid, i can still see things clearly.” you said again. 

“i know you’re not.” corpse says. you sigh, putting your head in your arms as you tucked your legs, knees to your chest. 

“you’ve waited this long, what happens next?” corpse asks, genuinely curious. 

“we move on.” you told him. there you were. the fire spirited girl he knew for years. he knew no amount of water could put out the fire you had in your heart. 

he envied you. sure, you can be extremely naive at times, but when you weren’t, you listened to your heart, you let the spirit in you to guide you to make the right decision, to go through the right path. 

and now, the spirit in you was telling you to move on, to not keep waiting, that waiting could do more harm than good. 

karl was confused at first. usually, you’d text him, check in with him, make sure he’s okay. in the first couple days, he felt relieved that you weren’t butting into his life anymore. 

but then he felt like something was missing after a week, two weeks, months. he didn’t feel relieved anymore. well, not after seeing you with someone else. 

okay, maybe not someone else, dating wise, but close. 

you were getting close with sapnap, a fellow friend of karls. a fiance, even. it struck everyone that something was wrong, with you and karl not been interacting like usual, and now that you were close with nick, someone close to him. 

sure, there are theories, but no one ever came to a conclusion. they just thought you two had a falling apart, like people normally have. and even though people who shipped you two hard was upset, they had to accept it. 

but no, that wasn’t what hurt karl. it wasn’t that even his followers could see that you two aren’t talking. but it was the fact that people seem to like the fact that you and his nick were getting close. 

but he knew he had no right to be mad, to be angry. it was meant to be that way. with the way he was treating you, he knew it was bound to happen. 

he shouldn’t have neglected you in the first place. 

he failed to see how amazing of a person you were to him, you were always so patient. you were always so calm, never angry with him, never snapped at him for no reason. 

not like his exes. and yet he felt the need to push you away. 

he couldn’t even make up an excuse for what he did. he can’t even lie his way out of a confrontation from corpse. 

and all this guilt, all this acceptance that he was the one being a shitty person, yet he still had the nerve to be angry. 

heard you been talking to someone. karl texts his ‘fiance’

who and where have you been hearing this? nick texts back.

y/n, and the internet. they’re going nuts. karl texted, going straight to the point.

well, yeah. she’s amazing. but we’re not of anything, just talking. nick texts, now serious.

be careful. karl sends another text. 

?? nick sends.

she’s using you. like she did to me. karl types, and sends.

and no response back. the type bubbles came up once in a while, but died down, no text came through after. 

what did she do to you? nick finally answers his text after two days. he clearly was thinking about it.

made me buy her stuff, send her merch. karl texted his friend back. 

i did everything for her. and then she was just gone, never texted me back. karl continues. 

why didn’t you tell me sooner? nick asks.

didn’t know you two were talking. karl finishes, going off messages,off to the kitchen, to go make dinner for himself. 

nick was exasperated. he didn’t know how such an innocent, caring woman like you do that to him. how could he have not seen the signs? 

you never told him to do anything for you. instead, you always rejected any offers he made. 

is it because it’s too soon for you to ask him anything? did you only become close to him only to con him and hurt him in the end? 

he needed to believe his friend. you were no one to him for him to believe you, but he had been friends with karl for a while. 

but he needed to confront you. he hurt his friend and he won’t let you hurt him like you did to karl. 

call me, it’s urgent. was the text he sent to you. 

he’s never this serious, not even when he’s joking. and you knew him well enough to understand his behaviour, even when it’s just a simple text. 

but you did what he told you to do, called him. actually, you facetimed him, to make sure that you weren’t just being paranoid. 

“hi, we haven’t spoken in a while.” you said, tone cheery. you were genuinely excited to finally talk to him again, and not just text. 

“shut up.” he snapped, face hidden in his hands as he covered it, not in the right state of mind. 

your cheery look vanished from your face, at that point, you were just confused. had you done something? was this just a result of him having a bad day?

“what was your intention with me?” he said, but sounded more like a snarl. 

“w-what?” you stuttered, shocked at the tone he gave you. he has never not smiled at you, let alone risen his voice at you. 

“what you did to karl, were you going to do the same to me?” he squeaked out, almost crying. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, nick.” you tried. 

“DON’T SAY MY NAME.” nick screamed, to which you jumped in your seat, almost knocking off a candle on your side table. 

“just tell me. when were you going to make me do what you told him to do?” he said, now more quietly. 

“what did i do?” you asked, now tears brimming your eyes. 

“you used him, used his money. and you’re just waiting for the time to use me too.” he spat it out. 

“what? why would i do that?” you asked.

“because you are one good manipulator.” he said. 

“look, just because karl was syupid enough to listen to you, doesn’t mean i am. i’m thanking god he told me before you used me too.” he finished, before hanging up. 

you were more than confused. sad, enraged? you felt manipulated yourself. you have never told anyone to do anything for you, especially not karl. not when he was the one who neglected you. 

you didn’t feel used by him, no. you felt dirty, wronged that you waited that long, waiting for him to finally give you your deserved attention. and even after more than a year, he didn’t give you it. 

so why did he tell nick you used him? you didn’t think you were doing anything wrong, at least in your perspective. 

the more you thought about it, the more tears rolled down your cheek. 

“did i do something. i need it from a perspective of someone else.” you asked corpse during a facetime as you wailed silently. 

“no, you didn’t. you waited like a doll. you never went against what he told you to do. don’t blame yourself.” he told you. 

“so why did he tell him i was using him?” you cried out. 

“i really like him, corpse. i really do. i lost the chance now.” you said, exhausted from the crying all day. 

“i know you do. now, calm down before you become dehydrated.” he tells you. 

you just didn’t understand why karl would tell him such a thing. he didn’t want you then, he wouldn’t want you now. this wasn’t an act of jealousy. it couldn’t be. 

but you wanted to find out. 

it took you a while to calm down. you cried to sleep, cried when you woke up, cried when you were eating lunch. you really were on the verge of being dehydrated. 

but you stopped yourself. you caught yourself before you slipped down that spiral again. 

three months. that was how long it took you to finally stream again, to post on instagram again. 

and now, people were just even more confused. they made up stories about you. they thought there must be something wrong about you if you had two boys distant from you. 

so they talked bad about you. made up some absurd stories that other people believed. 

corpse was always there for you, though. he told them that they’re being stupid, that they believe everything that’s thrown to them on the internet. 

but the news never did die down. 

and at some point, you were over it. 

in between the three months, you made sure you resolved this. 

you texted nick every single day from the day he hung up on you. called him whenever you could. until he blocked you. you didn’t even think he read the messages, or opened your voicemails. 

so you did what you would do on impulse. rage. well, not really. you don’t have a temper, you never did. but you acted on impulse. 

you met him. you met karl. or shall you say, you showed up on his doorstep, while he was forced to hear what you had to say, what you had to do. 

“you came?” karl asked. opening his door to see you was not what he had expected. 

you came close to him. you almost saw him grin. you knew exactly what he thought about, and you weren’t going to satisfy him. 

you slapped him. hard across the face. hard enough his face was shoved to the side, as stumbled, balance gone. he obviously didn’t see that coming. 

“i waited and waited. waited like a scared little puppy.” you snarled through your teeth. 

“but you neglected me. you didn’t see me as your girlfriend, or a potential one. you saw me as a potential rebound. someone to still be there for you, to accept you after you got rejected from the girls you actually wanted.” you said in one breath. 

“and when i went away for a while, you missed me. not at first. you were relieved i was gone, and then you missed me. and then you heard i was talking to nick.” you cried out, now tears going down your face. 

you stopped to catch your breath, staring at him. or more like glaring at him, waiting for him to confess he did something. but he stared at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 

“you took away a whole year of my time, my undivided attention, my heart. you took so much away from me and now you’re selfish enough to take away someone i actually like for once?” you asked. 

“just because your life is miserable, doesn’t mean you can make mine miserable too” you finished saying. you glared at him once more before leaving his place, to get back home. 

in your journey home, corpse called you. he was doing what he always did, to check up on you. you told him everything, the slap, you told him every single word you told karl. 

it felt good for a while, to get it all out. but your heart, there was still a hole in it. and there was only one thing in the world to fill that. and you don’t think it’s possible to obtain.

when you came back after three months, karl and nick remained quiet. they didn’t say anything. 

and even though you came back, it didn’t mean you were healthy. you looked sickly, not having much sleep in the night. not much to eat either, hence the weight loss over the months. 

and people did notice this, it was hard to miss. 

but you tried to cover it up, with the large smiles and loud laughter. you did your best to distract people to ask you the question. 

to ask if you’re doing okay. 

the truth is, you’re not okay. your eyes felt heavy all the time, you lungs hurt like hell and you always felt exhausted, yet you couldn’t sleep. 

and you knew people noticed, you knew corpse noticed. he just didn’t want to push you. he was being cautious around you. he didn’t want you to break more than you already were. 

karl, on the other hand, he felt stressed out. the moment you left his house, all he could think about was you. and this time, he hadn’t mean that in the crush or love type of way. not anymore, at least. 

now, all he can think about was how stupid he was acting. he had no reason to lash out like that, especially when you had done nothing wrong to him. 

he had no right to be mad at you, let alone say it all to someone you truly liked. he remembered how devastated nick was when he told him all those lies. 

he needed to find a way to end this. he needed to redeem himself. he needed to make it up to you, make it up to nick. he didn’t want to 

i lied. karl texted nick.

immediately, he got a call from him. karl wasn’t ready for that, he didn’t expect him to be awake at this moment. 

“what do you mean?” nick asked. he didn’t think about the text seriously, just some minor thing karl may have said during the lore or something. 

“she didn’t use me.” karl answers.

silence. karl could see nick’s expression change from a not tense cheery face to a tense confusion one. karl felt concious of the bile in his throat now. 

“i made the story up. i didn’t want her to end up with you.” he continues. 

“what?” nick, now more confused. 

“i had no right, i know. but after a couple months, i realised she wasn’t waiting on me anymore, and i hated that, i’m sorry.” karl said. 

“she came by my house, slapped me and put me in my place. i know i have no right, nick, i’m sorry.” he finishes, waiting for nick to say something. 

“i really liked her, karl. why did you have to ruin that for me? she was one of a kind.” nick cried. 

“she really likes you, she told me. i hope you two make things right.” karl begged. 

“have you seen her dude, she looks miserable. you did that to her, i did that to her.” nick shouted, his tears never ending. 

“you didn’t, i did. and i am so sorry i did that. i didn’t mean it to go this far.” karl said. 

“this far? she looks exhausted, starving. she looks sick, karl. why the fuck would you do that to someone like her?” nick asked, now more exasperated. 

“i’m sorry, i really am sorry, nick.” karl starts to cry. 

“apologise to her, you fucking idiot. you ruined the one thing that was going right for me.” nick said before he hung up on karl. 

karl was devastated. he lost a friend, and last year, he had lost you. but you didn’t matter to him as much anymore, he wanted to see you with his friend. 

karl cared a lot about nick and he only wants what’s best for him. and if that means giving up on you, he’d do it. 

he didn’t know where he was going with hurting the both of you, anyways. it wasn’t like you were going to crawl to him when nick didn’t want you anymore. 

god, was he stupid. 

life was going well for you. well, if you could even say that. you lost a lot of weight, your eyes looked like death. but all is well, since you were still doing the things you love, making content. 

you were playing another round of among us, one of the last rounds of the day, having been played for almost three hours now. 

“damn, you are one good imposter.” toast commented, corpse agreeing. 

“learnt from the best.” you said, giving your webcam a wink before grinning and looking back onto your pc. 

“and who is that?” corpse says, teasingly, almost as if he was waiting for you to say him. 

“not you, that’s for sure.” you laughed as you said that. 

“brutal.” poki chimed. 

“it’s obviously me.” sykkuno tried. 

“nope, definitely me.” valkyrae added, arguing with them. you sat back on your chair, relaxing into it as you laughed at their petty arguments, trying to one up each other. 

“bro, twitter is crazy right now.” ludwig came out to say. 

when you heard that, your curiosity got the best of you. you went on twitter on your phone as you tried to multitask with reading your twitch chat, seeing if they knew anything about it. 

the whole world could then see how surprised you were to see your name trending first in america. you gave the camera a scared and concerned look before clicking on your name. 

you thought you had done something wrong, that it was your time to get cancelled. but you were wrong, so wrong. 

karl tweeted something about you?

you clicked on subtweets after subtweets to find the original tweet he sent out. you scrolled for a couple seconds before you found it. 

he apologised? for what? there was no way he was apologising for making me wait. that was so long ago, you barely remembered why you stayed on for so long. 

sapnap’s name is in the tweet. 

OH. 

it was because of the most recent thing. 

but how is it his fault? you read more of it. 

he talked about making you wait for him while he scouts for a new, better girl he felt best suited for him. he spoke about neglecting you and taking you for granted. 

and lastly, he talked about taking his best friend’s chance away from you using lies he made up, lies about him talking bad about you. 

you didn’t cry. you didn’t feel tears coming at all, if you were being honest. you were just confused. but the confusion turned to concern. why did he talk about it now, especially publicly? 

he wasn’t one to announce anything this big. he was being reckless, and you wanted to know why. 

“what the hell.” you spoke out loud this time. the vc felt too eerily quiet that it was starting to make you feel uncomfortable. 

‘it’s about fucking time he maned up.” corpse said out, laughing about the statement he made. 

“i am in shock.” you told your best friend and rest of them. you just had to sit there on your chair for a while, to process everything properly before you could say anything further. 

“you look like you would pass out any second.” toast pointed out, clearly watching your stream. you smiled at the comment. 

your discord pinged. someone sent you a message. you opened discord on your other monitor to avoid exposing yourself somehow, not knowing what the viewers are able to find out with little information. 

it was karl. he sent you a discord message. and you saw another from quackity, one of his best friends. you opened quackity’s. you wanted to avoid the question in matter for as long as you could. 

saw the tweet? he sent you a message.

yeah, i did. it was something. you typed back.

i did not expect that. careful opening karl’s text. he sent back.

got it. opening his now. you sent.

you sighed, composing yourself before you opened his message, but making it less obvious, knowing that you were still streaming. 

“one sec, guys. gotta do something.” you told them. they’d understand. you were sure that your views were going up because of this, anyways. 

i’m sorry, i really am. his message says.

why’d you do it? you asked, simply.

jealousy. realised i missed out on something good. he typed. you rolled your eyes. 

but that’s not the point. karl sends you another message. 

then what is? you asked again. you were tired and you wanted nothing more than this to end. 

you and nick are meant to be together. i was just selfish. i took the best thing to ever happen to him, away for him. let me make it better. please. he begged. 

you’ve already hurt me once. you typed and sent back. now sighing and going back to your stream to get ready to end it.

your phone rung. a facetime. it was corpse. without a doubt, you picked up your phone. 

“your life is a movie.” he laughed hard that you could feel the tummy ache forming. 

“shut up.” you rolled your eyes teasingly. 

you put down your phone, still facing you so corpse could see what you were doing while you ended the stream, apologising that the ending was different and not like the others. 

you picked up your phone to bring corpse along to your kitchen. you were feeling hungry from the long stream you had to sit through. 

you two were talking about the issue on hand at first, until you two finally found a different subject to talk about. you two kept talking and ranting on the phone, laughing most of the time for hours until you heard your door handle jiggle, someone trying to open your door. 

and then a knock. you became aware and started thinking about who could want to meet you at this time. you looked at your phone, at corpse’s face as he showed the same expression as you did. 

“dude, this is when i die.” you joked but half serious. 

“shut the fuck up and do not open the door.” he told you, obviously serious, not joking at all. 

“i am opening the door.” you told him. 

he look at you like you were the stupidest person on planet earth. 

“are you being fucking serious? no.” he told you. 

he was too late, you were already at your door handle. just one turn and you could open your house door. 

you opened it slowly, still aware of the danger that could be behind that door. 

but all the bad thoughts went out the window when you saw the person on your porch.

nick stepped up, to move closer to you, coming in your house. he did it all in a split second. he put one hand on your waist, the other on your neck, fingers on your cheek, not giving you time to speak, he put his lips on yours. 

you dropped your phone on impulse, putting your hands where it felt most appropriate, his neck. 

you could hear corpse screaming, wondering what was happening, if you were in any kind of danger. but you were so focused. 

“one more chance, is all i’m asking for. and i won’t take that chance for granted.” he told you, his forehead touching yours. you nodded. 

“best first meeting ever.” you whispered, more to yourself but you were sure nick could hear from the small laugh he let out. 

you were sure corpse almost called your state police at that point, if it weren’t for you picking up your phone after that. he had tears in his eyes, panicking. 

that’s the corpse you know and love.

worst and best day ever.

[votederpycausemufins]

All my knowledge is of hermitcraft and the stuff people have written for the Hermit!Tommy Au but I kept having this idea and needed to write it. I also think i got a bit out of character halfway through because it was supposed to be short, but i vibed with it too much so now it’s long and maybe not 100% accurate but it’s still angst followed by fluff.

also @petrichormeraki wanted me to tag them when i posted this.

Tommy had been with the Hermits for a while now. He hadn’t really kept track of when he first arrived, but it had at least been a few months. Otherwise, time was a mess. The Hermits has all but legally adopted him and all the joy that came from them caring for him made time seem to fly by.

Doc was fun to be around because while Tommy was perfectly fine never going back to the SMP, the way the man acted gave Tommy a small bit of familiarity in a good way to his past life.

He likes hanging out with False, mainly for sparring. Never anything deadly, but even if there wasn’t a need for Tommy to constantly look over his shoulder, it was good to keep from getting too rusty.

He doesn’t really hang out with Zedaph as much as Zedaph hangs out with him. Normally the Hermit would come out of the blue with something new for Tommy to try. Flicking levers over and over for something that would normally be as simple as using a furnace just became fun for Tommy, especially if he had energy pent up.

Xisuma is someone Tommy doesn’t run into much, but the fact that he doesn’t is something Tommy finds comfort in. Even as the server admin, the man is very down to Earth. Nothing like Dream ever was.

And then there’s Grian. Tommy got along with all the Hermits fine and of course there were some he preferred over others, but Grian took the cake for him. When he first showed up, Grian was the one to give him a place to stay at his old hobbit hole. Professor Beaks had been left there and still used to the SMP and scared for his life, Tommy hid the pet bird as leverage for his own safety. When Grian found out, he mostly shrugged it off, but the tens of chickens in the hobbit hole the next day was proof of retaliation.

Tommy didn’t understand the underwhelming response at first, but responded in kind, using the eggs from the chickens Grian had left to egg the Hermit’s base. When the builder nearly broke the door to the hobbit hole, Tommy grabbed his axe, ready to fight for his life, but was taken aback by the cheerful look on Grian’s face.

After that, Grian had practically taken Tommy under his wing. He showed Tommy how to build more effectively with cobble, eventually managing to get the teen to have some variety. Grian also brought Tommy along on his various chaotic endeavors, leaving behind chickens, mycelium, and possibly some missing doors.

The two chaotic red wearing Brits got along so well that they sometimes spent entire weeks together. Because of that, Tommy was all too aware that the Hermits participated in MCC as well.

It made sense. A few of the Hermits vaguely recognised him when he showed up in Hermitcraft and a few of them looked familiar to Tommy. That had made him feel a little safer since now these people weren’t complete strangers, but it did complicate things. Every so often, the portal to MCC would open and the Hermits participating would go through. The closest Tommy would get to the portal was just before the Hermits left, occasionally giving a ‘Good luck Grine!’ or something similar to Grian as he went through. But after that Tommy stayed as far away as he could manage.

The portal there led to MCC. And from there, there was a portal that led to the SMP. If Tommy could get to Hermitcraft, others could too. And that idea was terrifying, no matter who it was. Dream was a worst case scenario, but even if it was Tubbo. Tubbo had exiled him, and even if they were still on good terms after that, Tommy could have visited at some other MCC, but he didn’t, and that idea likely wouldn’t go over well, especially since otherwise, people probably thought he was dead and Tommy didn’t care to correct them.

But compared to all those other times, today was very different. Today Tommy wasn’t at the sidelines to help send off the other Hermits, he was one of the ones being sent off. They had taken every precaution. Mumbo had rebuilt his Spookification chamber for Tommy with some alterations, specifically removing the firework method of alteration. The teen was also dressed for being on a team with Grian as the Cyan Creepers, so his familiar red and white shirt was missing. But under Tommy’s costume, he still kept the chain necklace holding his compass. He refused to part with it, though made sure he would be hard to access to keep from glancing, knowing at the championships, it wouldn’t be spinning wildly anymore.

With a comforting pat on the back from Grian, he and the other Hermits walked through the portal. The crowd of people that were on the side almost immediately overwhelmed Tommy, making him think that it was a bad idea all over again, but the sight of the two other team members for the Cyan Creepers reassured them, especially as they lined up for the cameras for some fun and silly times. Then once the games began, he was too focused on winning to think of much else.

Before long, the championships were over. They had come in fifth, which was a bit disappointing at first, but on the other hand, it was still pretty good and kept the spotlight off of him. When dodgebolt began, Tommy stood next to Grian, but with a crowd of people, a good game, and no perfect place to sit, the both of them wandered for a better vantage point.

At one point, Tommy managed to push his way right up to the edge of the viewing ledge. It was the perfect place for a while until the action moved, causing everyone to decide it was the perfect place. Enough people moved nearby that Tommy was worried about falling into the pit below, and he almost did before someone pulled him back.

Tommy was ready to thank whichever Hermit or even other player helped him but the words died in his throat when he faced the person who grabbed him. He knew that mask and neon green color. And there was no reason for him to help Tommy unless-

“I finally found you!” Dream spoke. He raised his voice to be heard over the crowd, but not too much to draw the attention of others. Tommy froze as he definitely heard the words. But there was no way for Dream to know, he didn’t look at all like normal.

“I-I’m sorry.” Tommy tried not to stutter, hoping just the situation of being grabbed would excuse it. “But I don’t think I’m who you’re looking for. I’m new here. Unless you’re greeting me for being new.” It was something he prepared before in his mind after Grian brought up the possibility, but it felt sloppy putting it to use.

“Oh don’t lie Tommy. I know it’s you. I guess you got lost, but it’s okay, you can come back now. I got rid of the exile for you. Aren’t you glad?”

Tommy was glad for the mask that covered Dream’s face. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see Dream’s actual expression. “How did you-” He started to speak, but Dream cut him off, poking Tommy’s chest, right where the compass was.

“Weren’t you paying attention to the teams? Tubbo got put with me. And between games he just happened to glance at his own compass. And wouldn’t you know it, it led me right here.” Dream held up the compass that belonged to Tubbo. It looked damaged, and it was recent. Tubbo likely didn’t want to give the tyrant admin the compass, but lost it to Dream anyway.

“Give that back to Tubbo!” Tommy shouted at Dream, trying to snatch it from him.

“Feisty now, aren’t you? We can take care of that when you come back. I’ll also give it back to him if you come with me.”

Tommy froze. There was no way he was going back, but what could he do? Everyone was focused on dodgebolt, and he didn’t want his appearance to have caused more trouble for Tubbo.

Tommy glanced at the crowd one last time before reluctantly nodding. Dream grabbed his hand in a painful clench and dragged him out of the crowd towards the SMP’s portal to leave. However, just before reaching it, Dream stopped. Tommy, who had been looking back at the crowd, hoping someone would see what was going on, turned towards the portal to see Grian standing in front of it.

“Heya, where do you think you’re going. MCC isn’t over yet. Dodgebolt it still going on.”

Tommy expected Dream to just push past Grian or even give some sort of retort, but the actual reply was shocking. “Uh, n-no, just… have to head back early. Th-the game delays made things run over. A-and we’ve got to get b-back for… something else. Don’t w-want to be late for that.”

Dream’s words made Tommy so shocked he forgot to breathe. Dream was scared, no he was terrified. And he was terrified… of Grian. Tommy looked back at the Hermit who stood unflinching in front of them.

“Really? I could have sworn that you were here when I arrived, and that kid wasn’t. And he definitely came from a different portal. I know since I was keeping my eye out for my teammates. So why’s he going with you?”

“I uh…” Dream struggled, struggled, to give an answer, letting Grian continue. “That’s what I thought. C’mon kid, let’s go back to the crowd. You can stay with me until it’s over then I’ll help you find your portal back.”

And Grian took Tommy away without any retaliation from Dream. Tommy was left in awe. Grian wasn’t even an admin in Hermitcraft but Dream was terrified of him. It was amazing! But at the same time, it made Tommy spiral a bit.

When everyone returned, Grian had made sure Dream left before the Hermits and Tommy did so Dream couldn’t watch Tommy leave. Tommy stuck to False’s side as they walked through the portal, Grian being the last to come through as he continued to act as a guard. When he tried to comfort Tommy after his run-in with Dream, he understood when the teen responded he just wanted to go home. The championships were exhausting enough without a scare like that.

The next day, Tommy hung out with False. And then Zedaph, and then Doc. Grian noticed immediately, but didn’t pay much mind to it. He noticed since Tommy had spent a full week only hanging out with him, so the sudden absence of the boy was noticeable, but it made sense that he would want to hang out with the others.

After that, Grian didn’t pay too much attention to the lack of Tommy until he ran into him while stocking the barge. Tommy had been buying something at the store when Grian flew in. He nearly dropped his diamonds in trying to leave in such a hurry that it finally concerned Grian. The builder started visiting other Hermits Tommy tended to visit and ask about him. No one really noticed much other than Tommy dodging any questions about him possibly going to hang out with Grian.

Grian decided to leave it alone, and he was definitely going to, but after another run in with Tommy, he threw that decision out the window. Grian normally wouldn’t have done this, but after trying multiple times to just talk to Tommy and being unsuccessful, the builder had to essentially corner the teen.

Immediately, Grian regretted it. Tommy was trembling, obviously scared, holding a sword in his hand. He carefully tried to point out that Tommy didn’t need to have his sword out, but instead of just putting it away, Tommy just threw it on the ground, also throwing down his other gear. Grian had heard of Tommy doing this before with the other Hermits, so he immediately recognised what was going on and dived to grab the gear. It scared Tommy more, but Grian wanted to make sure nothing ended up destroyed.

“Tommy, calm down, I just want to talk. Did I do something wrong? I mean, obviously I must have, you look scared out of your mind every time I’m around you. But I can’t think or anything I did and I don’t want this to keep happening. So can I know what’s going on?”

Tommy didn’t speak for a while. He just looked defeated and terrified. Grian called in some of the other Hermits to come help Tommy calm down, though at first it didn’t help. But over time, Tommy finally did stop looking so terrified and they moved to somewhere he would feel less cornered. It took more coaxing after that, but finally, Tommy explained himself.

“He’s scared of you. Dream is… actually scared of you.”

“Yeah, I’ve killed him once or twice. Plus my full name is Lord Grian Dreamslayer, so it’s kind of in the name.” The builder tried to say it as a joke, but it didn’t seem to lighten the mood.”

“He’s the admin and he’s scared of you. And you… I’ve been hanging out with you.”

Grian nodded. “Well yeah, we do fit together well. ...Did he say something at MCC to make you think I didn’t like you?”

Tommy shook his head. “N-No. You’re right, you’re fun to be around. But dream likes… liked messing with me. And tried to train me. And I hang out with you more than I had with him, and I’m more like you. I-If you’re somehow more powerful than him-!” The rest of the words stopped in Tommy’s throat, choking him up. Stress was nearby and gave Tommy a careful hug for comfort, which helped him a little.

Grian waited a little bit for the tension to calm slightly before he spoke. “I don’t know exactly what Dream has done to you. You’ve told us a lot, but you obviously haven’t told us everything, and telling us isn’t the same as experiencing it. But let me tell you that I’m not going to do what he’s done to you. I remember how you were the first day we found you. And I see how you are now- well, how you were a few weeks ago- and I’m happy. Happy because you’ve been happy. You’ve been safe and cared for here and it shows. I don’t want to force you to be anything, I want you to be you. Sure, I’m powerful enough to kill Dream, but I’m not going to use that power on you. I’m only going to use it around you if it’s to keep him away from you.

“And! And! It’s just because of how your server is. Here we can go to the end. We don’t have a set amount of lives. We build massive structures and sell totems for a single diamond each. We fight Withers for fun and make farms with them. We farm just about anything you can think of. And Tommy.” Grian paused, making sure Tommy was paying attention. “You may be from somewhere far off that none of us old Hermits have seen, but now you’re here. And new home or not, that makes you a Hermit too. Sure you can be like me. Or you can be like False or Doc or Scar or Mumbo. But so far, you’ve been pretty you. And that you is a Hermit.”

Tommy took a few moments to process it, but the message seemed to get through to him. With that, Grian stood up with a smile. “Now I get that you probably don’t want to hang around me much right now. It makes sense. Maybe hang out with some other Hermits and learn some new stuff to get your mind off of things. Plus, I also did some talking around looking for you, and got you this.”

Tommy’s eyes practically sparkled as Grian placed down some music discs. He greedily grabbed the treasures and stuffed them in his inventory, looking up just to see Grian flying off. Taking on Grian’s idea, Tommy decided to go with Cleo and try to wrap his head around those armor stands again. While he wasn’t a pro, he did manage to make one scene of the hermits all holding weapons and surrounding an armor stand in lime leather armor. Grian was right. He was a Hermit. And he wasn’t going back. At least, not permanently, he thought, clutching his compass. Maybe, there would even be another Hermit like him.

[cherryatiny]

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭

GIFs are not mine, credit goes to their respective owner

❁ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

It was no secret that your sugar daddy Hongjoong is a born aristocrat, as his rich taste in everything showed up a lot. Ever since a young age, he was taught to love art in all its forms. When his grandparents passed away sadly, he was the chosen one to inherit the prestigious art gallery their family ran for more than 7 decades.

Although he wasn't an artist of the top level, his love to express himself through art never died. So the very first day he took over the gallery, the first thing he ordered his subordinates to do, was to clear out the smaller room in the back of the director's office.

Soon after, he designed the space to an art studio of his liking, where he could freely spend his free time painting, reconstructing clothes, or just rest while stimulating his brain to function more creatively.

Soon after he met you and you two got into the sugar daddy relationship, he found his muse in you. At first, it started by him just taking pics of you at the moments he deemed to be artsy, not long after that he however started calling you to his little studio in the gallery he ran. Always making you sit or lay down on the old valuable settee, that looked like the ones from Renaissance paintings.

Taking you by your hand, he showed you the paintings of the new exhibition he was preparing. The paintings harmonized well, all of them tuned in a dark abstract setting. Loosening your hand out of his grip, you grasped his wrist the same he did with your often, dragging him to the office. He was slightly taken by surprise as he did not expect you to drag him there since you haven't agreed on him painting you today. „Lay down, for today, you'll be my muse Joongie.“

He was laying on the settee, looking up at the ceiling, so his side-profile was fully visible to you, as you painted him on the canvas. Mixing colours to your liking, you made the portrait of your Hongjoong look abstract, as it matched the art style he often used.

After hours of painting, when you did the last line with your paintbrush, you sighed out tiredly, wiping the sweat off your forehead as you observed your creation. „My muse, you can come here and admire yourself on the canvas.“ Standing up swiftly, he came over to you, leaning forward, his arm wrapping around the shoulder of your sitting self as he was all eyes on the painting.

„It's... spectacular. I- I'm at a loss of words, why did you never tell me you had a talent for painting my darling? If I added this painting to the exhibition there, I can guarantee you, that this will be the most favoured painting in my gallery.“

❁ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

You don't even know why you applied to become Seonghwa's secretary a few months ago, considering you've never worked in this type of branch. But it was probably the best decision of your life because if you wouldn't have applied for the secretary position, you wouldn't have met your sugar daddy Seonghwa.

At first, the work was a disaster as your relationship with your boss didn't start off very well. He was giving you tons of work to do, the stupidest arrangements that were completely unnecessary to make, or the most boring workshops and meetings to take you to with him.

But after the one night at a business conference in Milan when you two got closer than one would expect you to and got into the sugar daddy relationship, his attitude to you drastically changed.

Your secret relationship also made him give you easier and different tasks to do, he as well deemed you to be more reliable than before, which resulted in him giving you free hand in literally everything. He was actually taken aback by how competent you were at your tasks. Doing everything you were told to do, ten times better than he would have probably done.

One night, as you two were cuddling on the couch in his place while looking out of the large glass wall with the sighting of the whole town, he spoke out, „Y/N why didn't you tell me you had such talent for scheduling, strategic planning and business stuff? I should have made you the director of strategic planning or something like that. But then... I get to be closer to you when you're my secretary, my beautiful baby.“

❁ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

„Ah, shit! The actress who was supposed to play the walk-on in the hospital scene with Yunho, can't get here as something happened to her. What do we do now?“ yelled the director out of frustration as the actress announced she can't arrive just a few minutes before they were supposed to shoot.

You were just finishing your sugar daddy Yunho's outfit for the shoot as you were the main costumer for this k-drama. Yunho stood up from his seat as you finished his stylist, bending down to plant a kiss on your lips, before going over to the director with a worried look on his usually joyful face.

You were clearing off the stuff you used on him back to where it belonged to. Eyeing Yunho talk with the director from distance, the two of them occasionally flashing looks at you. When they stopped talking, Yunho jogged to you with the beaming smile you knew that well on his face. His puppy-like features always flashed out when he had any good news, giving him the look that was asking him what he wanted to say.

„Get changed. You've got the role of the girl who's missing.“ you raised your eyebrows at what he just said, taken aback as you did not really understand what he was talking about. You and acting? „Come on, get dressed, we don't have much time. Here's the script.“ handing you the bunch of papers and the outfit the girl was supposed to wear, he motioned for you to go to the changing room.

You wiped the sweat off your forehead as you went away from the shooting site. „Wow, ms. Y/N, are you sure you didn't study acting? Although it was supposedly your first time acting, it was so natural. Wow, I'm glad Yunho showed you to me, you are for real like a hidden gem. Would you... maybe be interested in any more acting in future?“ asked the director with a glance of hope in his eyes after you finished shooting the small part in the k-drama your sugar daddy was starred in. Looking at him, wondering what Yunho's opinion was, the proud and encouraging smile on his face hinting that he really wanted you to accept the offer made by his boss.

„I'm so proud of you princess. My little talented actress, I love you.“

❁ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

Groaning softly, you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, looking at the empty spot beside you. You were sleeping at Yeosang's home, but as you could see, he didn't seem to be sleeping. Slipping your feet into the fluffy slippers with rabbit eyes, you wrapped your body tighter in Yeosang's shirt you were sleeping in, as the air was rather cool.

Opening the door of his bedroom, you went down the stairs of his apartment, down to the living room where a small table lamp was lit. Your sleepy sugar daddy sitting by the desk covered in many papers that seemed to be related to his prosecutor work.

Approaching him, you caressed his shoulder, which woke him up from his quick nap, „Mhm, Y/N. You can go back to sleep, I'll be there soon, I just have to finish this.“ You knew well that that wasn't the case and he won't be there soon. Sighing, you wrapped your arms around his neck, sitting down on his lap, his hand caressing your exposed thighs. „What are you working on, Yeo?“

„I'm treading through the case files, but I just can't take the next step. The police want me to indict him of murder, but the defendant is justifying himself saying that it was an accident and that he should be only indicted of manslaughter.“ Taking the case files from his hand, you read through them since your unbiased opinion might be of help to him.

Taking a pen from his desk, you underlined the facts you thought were important in your lay opinion. Handing it to him, he read focused on the underlined sentences, his eyes lighting up in hope. „Oh my god, Y/N. You're the saviour of my life, this is the core issue but it hasn't even struck up to me. I love you so much, my little prosecutor.“

❁ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

„Sannie, could you please tie my swimsuit?“ you held your hair in a ponytail so it did not get into the way as San tied the ribbon on the back of your swimsuit. You smiled at him as a way to say thank you, leaving the hotel suite your sugar daddy San reserved for you two to enjoy your vacation to the fullest.

San took your hand in his, your fingers intertwining as you walked down the hotel's luxurious corridors to the private beach. „Now, what does my beautiful baby plan on doing today?“ questioned san as he pulled you to him as close as possible. „Hm, I don't know, I'll probably do nothing all day long, just lay on the beach and sunbathe.“

„Then I'll keep you company while you do your nothing.“ giggles were leaving you two as you talked more while on the way to the sea. But as you started nearing the beach, loud dance music coming from the speakers. „What's that...?“ As you got to the beach, a group of people was doing dance work-outs there to the rhythm of the music.

„I have no idea what they are doing, but let's try Y/N“ and without giving you a chance to protest, San tugged you there by your wrist, right to the centre of the imaginary dance floor. He started dancing just as the instructor did, gesturing you to do the same.

Soon after you submitted to his nagging, doing the same as him to the rhythm of the energetic music. „Y/N, you're doing so well. Would I have known about your talent to dance, I would have taken you to some studio a long ago.“

❁ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢

After that one ball, you two met together at, you got invited to countless more balls to keep your boss company. Over that many times you two spent together, you get to know each other more and more until eventually, he somehow became your sugar daddy and boyfriend in one.

Tonight was very special, Mingi as the chairman of one of the biggest conglomerates in the country, got invited to the ball held by the president for the most influential people in the country. And when he stopped by your apartment with a beautiful night-robe, a pair of brand-new heels and a golden envelope with the letter of invitation in it, you almost fainted from the delight you felt.

Sometimes he couldn’t help but watch you like a movie on nights like this. Because you seemed so interested in these events, that it truly amazed him how you could act so interested in the talk of the attendants when it bore him to death. You just seemed so natural at attending events like this, you could dance, you knew all the protocol rules, you could pretend interest or know how to answer to the business talk others often held with you. He just couldn’t help but admire the talent you had for the formal events.

Excusing you from their speech, Mingi wrapped his arms around your waist, taking you to the middle of the dance floor as your favourite dance song was playing. Moving slowly, you melted into his touch as you enjoyed each other’s presence dancing the slow dances. „I'm amazed my dear Y/N, I can't bring myself to be interested in talking to these egoistic geezers for more than 5 minutes. Thank god I have you, my talented princess.“

❁ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

When you spent the night at your sugar daddy Wooyoung’s place, you usually weren’t allowed to even be near the kitchen as he insisted “he treats his princess food and she shouldn’t cook, because what if she cuts herself?” so today, as he had to rush to the work early in the morning because of some urgent, leaving you in his immense mansion alone.

And that meant you had a free pass to cook something in his kitchen. But seeing how emptied his fridge was, you opted for something more simple in a form of stir-fried tofu with vegetables. Washing the fresh vegetables thoroughly, you dried them, placing them on the breadboard, to cut them. All of his knives were sharp as Wooyoung was doing his best to keep his kitchen in the best state.

Throwing the tofu cubes onto the pan with a heated droplet of olive oil, you stirred them until they roasted into golden colour, adding the cut vegetables and cooking rice in the meanwhile. Not at all realizing that there was a pair of eyes watching you from the doorframe.

Leaving you like that, Wooyoung in the meanwhile went to change into some sweatpants and a t-shirt, maybe a quick shower. And so when he came back, you were already turning off the stove. „Well, well, well, what do I see? Looks like someone used my kitchen behind my back.“

You jumped in your place lightly, your breathing heavy at how startled you were upon Wooyoung talking to you out of nowhere. „Jung Wooyoung, for how long have you been there?“ he put on a grimace, pretending to be pondering over it. „Probably ever since you added the veggies to eat and started singing to those annoying songs.“

„They’re not annoying, you’re just too old to understand them. Anyway, if you want to nag at me for using your kitchen, do it after you taste my delicious meal. Seems like you were in rush this morning, so you probably haven’t eaten anything“ Placing the plate in front of him, you sat opposite of him, waiting to see what his reaction would be as he had never tasted your cookings before.

„Mhmm, are you sure you’ve cooked it yourself? If so... why have I never let you in my kitchen, when this is so delicious? Gosh, my princess is such a good cook.“ Your smile was full of delight at his compliment as you watched him stuff his mouth full of your food.

❁ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

„Y/N, I’m going to the restroom, you’ll wait for me, right?“ you nodded, watching your sugar daddy Jongho leave the studio. Standing up, you sat down on the now-emptied armchair in front of the PC screens, your eyes scanning the colourful music segments on the screen.

You picked up the sheaf of papers with the notes to his newest song, along with the lyrics he’s written himself. Your eyes ran over the notes and the lyrics and as you were re-reading the text for the 3rd time, you started humming to it, trying to get the right melody Jongho was intending on having in the song.

Opening the door to the studio, Jongho noticed you sitting on the chair, your back turned to him and that resulted in you still being oblivious to his presence. And he didn’t dare to make a move, standing in the door-frame and watching you humming to the song in amazement that you weren’t tone-deaf like most non-musical people were, as you hit all the tones.

„Woah Y/N, are you a trained singer or something? Why didn’t you tell me you were good at music? I would have taken you here long time ago...“

❁ taglist : @galaxteez @gyubaby @bobateastay @tinytinyblogs @ateezinmymind @chososchaos @cvtiehoon @a-soft-hornytiny

[teddy06writes]

Can I request a Karl x Alex x Nick x Reader fic in which the reader is a teacher and they bring their boyfriends in for career day? I just thought it’d be so cute to see them interact with little kids.

sapnap x karl x quackity x reader

trigger warnings: none

premise: pretty much everything from the ask, although I know nothing about children so..., sorry lol

requested by the person above as well as @eliasxxk who asked for more karlnapity x reader

(y/n/n)- your nickname

(y/l/n)- your last name

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Career day?” Nick asked.

You nodded, quickly packing up the last of the assignments you had finished grading and tucking them into your bag, “Yeah, remember how I was planning the different stations and stuff for the kids?”

“Oh yeah, I thought you had all that stuff sorted?” Karl handed you your laptop from across the table.

“We did,” You sighed, “But someone backed out and now we have a slot to fill. So, one of you, all of you, I don’t care, we still need someone to do it.”

Alex frowned, “What would we have to do for that?”

You ran a hand through your hair, “Make a presentation on what you do? We were looking for a broad spectrum and the guy who backed out was someone’s cousin who did like, animation or something.”

As you gathered the rest of your things you explained that one group or person would be set up in each classroom, and that kids would rotate through, not just the fifth graders you taught, but the whole of the elementary school.

Karl grinned, “What time would we have to be there?”

“The welcome thing for the speakers is it 9 ish on Friday, so I can bring back the forms you’d need to fill out today to get them in on time.”

Your boyfriends agreed, and with a smile you pecked them all on the lips, “Alright, I gotta go. I’ll see you later.”

“Love you!” Karl called as you started out the door.

“Love you too!”

~~

After practically zooming through your first three units, ELA, Math and History, and sending your kids off to PE, you headed down to the admin offices to make copies and grab the forms.

“Hey Sadie!” You greeted cheerfully.

The secretary smiled, “Hey mx. (y/l/n).”

You moved over to the copier, starting your copies, “Do you have any of those forms? For the people giving the presentations on career day?”

“You found someone?” Adam, the sixth grade teacher who had been organizing the career day asked as he entered the office.

“Three someones actually,” You smiled, “Alex, Karl and Nick said they could.”

“Oh, that’ll be interesting.”  Sadie laughed.

“Minecraft youtubers,” Adam mused unenthusiastically, “I’m sure the kids will love to hear about people without real jobs.”

You rolled your eyes, “They pull just as much if not more than me every year, plus Nicky and Alex are still in college.”

Adam cocked an eyebrow as you grabbed your copies, and then the forms from Sadie, “Well at least I can’t complain, your saving my ass.”

“Damn right I am,” You scoffed starting out of the office, “You owe me.”

Heading back down the hall and then up the stairs to the fifth grade hallway you pulled out your phone, sending a text to the ‘loves <3′ group chat, ‘the files have been secured’

Back in your classroom you began to set out the Novels your class had been reading, and set up the last of the things you would need for the mini science lab that would happen later in the after noon.

~~ The next few days passed quickly, and soon you were pointing your boyfriends in the direction of the library, where the volunteers were supposed to be meeting before heading up to your classroom, greeting the kids who were already inside.

“Hey guys! Are you excited for today?”

A few kids nodded.

“Which presentation are you most excited to see?”

“Probably the actor!” Damien exclaimed.

“The actor? Any reason why or you just think they’d be cool?”

“I wanna be an actor.” He said.

“Yeah?” You chuckled, “What about you Sam?”

The girl through for a moment, tapping at her desk absently, “Probably the firefighter, I want to save people like them some day.”

You nodded, “Calum? Any your excited for?”

“Well I was excited to Ricky, he’s my cousin and an animator but he couldn’t come.” The boy pouted.

“Aw, well I’m sorry about that, but I’m sure there’ll be plenty of interesting people for you to see.” You looked over the schedule again, answering a messege from Adam, willingly surrendering yourself to running around and helping wherever needed during the day, instead of watching the presentations with your kids.

The morning announcements came and went, and the teaching aid who would be taking your place, touring the kids around came in, “Alright guys! We’r~~e going down to the auditorium so that the principal and Mr. Alderton can explain the plan for today, and so that the people who are going to be in these rooms have time to set up!”

She herded the kids out of the room, smiling at you as you grabbed your phone, following them out, but turning down a different hall to the library.

Adam breathed a sigh of relief as soon as you got inside, “Oh thank god! Okay, I need you to get these lovely people to there rooms, Adda is already going around to set up projectors.”

You nodded, taking the papers from him, “Okay people! If you’d follow me, we’ll get you into these classrooms on time!”

The group of various adults followed you out of the library as you started calling out names at each floor, in between the intersection of grade level hallways, pointing out room numbers.

By the time you had made it to the cross roads between the fifth and sixth grade, Adam was already frantically messaging you about being late so quickly you called out the last of the room numbers, pointing various directions and telling the people to let themselves in.

You turned to your boyfriends, “Right you guys are in my room, it’s at the end of the hall, my computer should be unlocked.”

“You’re not like, staying to hang out or anything?” Karl asked.

“I’ve been roped into over seeing this thing. I might be in and out at various times through out the day,” You pressed a kiss to each of there cheeks before starting back towards the stairs, “Have fun!”

~~

You spent your day running around, delivering different things to various classrooms and basically doing Adam’s bidding.

A little way into the last rotation of kids around the building you finally got the chance to take a break and head back up to your room, slipping in and sitting in the back as Karl tried his best to explain streaming to a group of kindergarteners.

They may not have fully understood what he was talking about, but they sure did find him funny.

You watched quietly as your boyfriends interacted with the kids, opening up for questions sooner than they had with the older kids, and patently answering each one.

“What are you going to college to learn how to do?” A young girl asked.

Alex smiled, “Well I’m going to get real smart to be a lawyer, and Mr. Sapnap here is learning about computers.”

“What’s a lawyer?” Another kid asked.

“My uncle’s a lawyer,” someone two desks away offered, “My mom says it’s someone who works in a court!”

Alex chuckled, “You are absolutely right Big Man, lawyers defend people who go to court.”

“If you and you are goin to college,” A boy near the front pointed at Nick and then Alex, “Then what’s he learning at college?” He pointed at Karl.

“Karl isn’t in college anymore.” Nick said simply.

“Not honking smart enough.” Karl grinned as kids laughed at his use of the word honk.

They continued to joke around for a while, until the pa crackled that it was time for everyone to head back to there normal classrooms, and you moved back to the front of the room, “That was entertaining.”

“(y/n/n)! This was awesome!” Karl exclaimed.

You nodded, glancing at the clock as you began to re arrange your desk, “Theres like, maybe ten minutes to the bell, you guys want to hang out in here?”

“Sure.” Your class began to file back in as Alex spoke.

“Mx. (y/l/n)! Why didn’t you tell us you were dating famous youtubers?” Damien asked.

You groaned, looking at a shrugging Nick, “Why have you done this?”

You class laughed at your displeasure, and you were about to start asking everyone how there days had gone when Karl beat you too it.

“Who was your favorite?”

“It better have been us!” Alex stage whispered.

The kids laughed, and you sat back, content to watch your boyfriends entertain the class.

[1kook]

hulu & woohoo

summary: But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. warnings: slight feelings of insecurity, smut; fingering, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, handjobs, unprotected, riding, slight praise kink misc: if you’re not a Jersey shore fan honestly GET OUT, mentions of capitalism😡, more kind/understanding kook, basically a “what are we?” fic but silly, irresponsible emailing habits, its so dumb just read wc: 6.3k

[ this is a sequel to netflix & chill !! ]

started off silly then I was like 😳what if we sprinkled in a dilemma™️😳 anyway here’s the kook i imagined for this fic <3

Contrary to popular belief, Jungkook does in fact have his own paid subscription to Netflix. He doesn’t ride on his family account anymore, nor does he swindle his friends into sharing their passwords ‘just once.’ Just like everything else about his mature persona, Jungkook is adamant on paying those ten and something dollars for the streaming platform.

However, his fall into capitalism doesn’t end there.

Among other things, Jungkook also pays for Hulu, Amazon Prime, Disney Plus, HBO, as well as a couple indie stuff you’ve never heard of in all your years. He’s a bigger nerd than you originally thought, with an incessant need to watch every single piece of media available.

Frankly, you don’t see the need to own so many different streaming services, especially not when pirating websites exist and you could so easily watch Jersey Shore for free, if you’re not too concerned with infecting your laptop with every software virus known to humankind. Luckily for you, your app developer boo with his—admittedly tiny—knowledge in computers can iron out those issues for you.

It’s moments like these, Jungkook fiddling with the internal system settings of your laptop to the best of his abilities, that you find yourself grateful for having met Jungkook, and even if it’s been a little over two months now and he still hasn’t popped the question (“Will you be my girlfriend?”), you’d still kiss him silly.

He sighs for the umpteenth time, rubbing his eyes as he stares at the same system warning on the screen. “Babe, just pay the six bucks for Hulu and you can watch all the Jersey Shore episodes you want,” he says, leaning back in his chair as he stares at you from across the dining table.

You scoff, almost scandalized by his suggestion. “You think I have the resources to hand over six bucks every month?” You abandon your homework in front of you, the one you had so dutifully been working on before your computer was flooded with about a thousand Hot Moms in YOUR Area! notifications before abruptly shutting down. “Buddy, that's lunch at Starbucks.”

Jungkook clicks around a few more times, round glasses sliding down his nose which he will occasionally scrunch up to save from falling. “First of all, lunch at Starbucks sounds sad,” he retorts, and you kick his shin from beneath the table. He doesn’t even flinch, the damn muscle bunny, instead leveling you with an unimpressed glare. “Second of all, I told you I’d give you my passwords but you said—“

“No!” You exclaim.

Call it what you want, but that rose-tinted image of Jungkook being a saint in this world, too sweet and naive for his own good, never faded. Your brain saw it that night of your first date and ran with it, never mind the fact he was quite the devious scoundrel, gentlemanly perception be damned the way he’d tug at your skirts and your hair in public like you were on the playground, always teasing, always playing with you, so discreetly no one would ever see it coming from him, of all people. Your brain saw all that too, the little childish streak he’d get sometimes, but your heart stomped it out, wrapped up in the image of Jungkook being your golden boy, and you couldn’t possibly take advantage of such an angel’s kindness to mooch off his streaming services.

From across the table, Jungkook gives you a pointed look, as if he knows you’re trapped in that brain of yours again. Unlike you, Jungkook was easily able to pick apart your true personality, and the way the devil on your shoulder spoke more often than not. He knew you were prone to outrageous schemes and evil villain monologues, and he still kept you around. Let you linger around his home in his big shirts and eat his healthy breakfasts with him. Jungkook liked you, as silly and mean as you were, and he was very obvious about it.

“The password—“

“Is none of my business,” you halt him with a tone of finality in your voice, gesturing for him to slide the beat up laptop back over. Jungkook sighs, runs a hand over his face like you’ve worn him out, but relents.

Taking it with a triumphant grin, you settle back into your seat, nudge his foot with yours beneath the table. Jungkook nudges you back, the adorable fuzzy socks he was wearing making you giggle, a sound that finally brings a smile to his face. “Y’know…” he says, “if you’re gonna be the Disney villain you claim to be, you might as well just take all my passwords.”

Rolling your eyes, you focus your attention back on copying some notes for class, falling back into the rhythm of glancing at the screen and back at your notebook. “You’re cute,” you mindlessly hum, taking great pleasure in the rosy hue that rises to his cheeks, one he tries to hide by coughing into his elbow. You set your pencil down, watch him squirm under your gaze like he always does, blushy and shy like he hadn’t had you twisted like a pretzel beneath him an hour ago. “Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, reaching over to place your hand over his, where it’s idly tapping over some textbook he’s got out. Immediately, he turns it over, squeezes your palm in his. “I don’t mind getting thirty two viruses an hour.”

The reluctant worry in his gaze remains, sweet puppy eyes flickering over you as if trying to catch a hint of a lie. He was so adorable, you could kiss him silly. Finally, Jungkook gives in, though he does so with a lot of effort; letting you fool around on pirating websites truly was the bane of his existence. “Just bring it to me if it breaks down again, okay?” He settles, and you nod.

To your surprise, he brings your hand up and presses a kiss to the back of your knuckles, holds your gaze like he absolutely adores you.

He was so handsome, so caring, and so blatantly not yours.

—

“Not heading to your boyfriend's house today?” Doyeon asks the second she steps into your shared dorm, fighting with the boots on her feet. In the last two months of knowing Jungkook (everybody say thank you, Kim Namjoon), it’s become rare to see you home for more than two nights in a row. Jungkook was irresistible in more ways than you could count. If you weren’t falling into bed with him, you were smothering his cute face on the couch, or hovering behind him in the kitchen.

“Not my boyfriend,” you deny, huffy, and she knows how you feel about the subject, which is why she only prods more.

“Wow,” Doyeon drawls, glancing over your shoulder where you’ve got Jersey Shore playing on one half of the screen, an essay document on the other. “The man you see every other night, who looks and fucks like a god, who buys you a shit ton of presents, and treats you like you’re his world… is not your boyfriend?”

On screen, the toxic couple of the century is engaged in another screaming match, the reality tv show quickly spiraling as dramatic music takes over the speakers.

You scratch the back of your head. “Yeah. Well.”

Doyeon almost combusts at your response, flinging herself onto her twin bed in disgust. “He is a fool, a court jester if you will,” she seethes. “You're the hottest babe in a fifteen mile radius chasing after him and he still hasn’t asked you?”

Deciding you can’t comfortably watch the toxicity on screen with Doyeon talking so loudly, you slam down on the spacebar to pause the show. The fickity website, set out to ruin you since you first discovered it a few weeks ago, crashes. It takes your half-assed essay with it as the whole computer suddenly blacks out. You sigh.

“And on top of that,” she’s still going, “you’re hot and evil. Like bro. Come on.”

“Yes, I’m sure every man dreams of getting with an evil seductress,” you sarcastically reply, reaching for your phone to text Jungkook for help, when you suddenly remember why exactly you’re not with him right now. He’d gone to Busan to visit his family this weekend, a quick trip, he’d told you with his tongue down your throat. You shiver at the memory.

You still really want to watch Jersey Shore, though. Almost desperately. It’d been a long time since you watched it, and you honestly forgot the pivotal role that and a bunch of other reality shows had played in shaping you into the conniving woman you were today.

Doyeon seems about done with her tirade against Jeon Jungkook, dramatically storming into the en-suite bathroom you share with your neighbors.

Tapping your phone against your lip, you carefully consider your options. You could just boot your laptop back up, pray for the best and move on. But the 240p episodes were doing a number on your eyes, and for a moment you considered handing over those six bucks to pay for a Hulu membership.

It’s short-lived, and eventually you settle on calling Jungkook.

He answers on the fourth ring, and wherever he is is insanely loud. There’s voices shouting, lots of bustling, until eventually a door closes and Jungkook’s silky voice oozes through the speaker. “Baby? What’s up?”

“Hi,” you respond, feel something disgustingly sweet settle in your chest. “Is this a bad time?” You ask tentatively.

Jungkook laughs, low and raspy. “No,” he tells you, and you hear the smile in his voice. “Never a bad time for you.”

You could lunge through the screen right now, rain kisses down on his face until he’s giggling, telling you it’s too much. The feeling in your chest tightens, and you almost blurt out something embarrassingly cheesy, but a voice in the background calls for him, and Jungkook’s voice responds, “In a sec, mom. I’m talking to a friend right now.”

The glass roof shatters.

Even though you’d just told Doyeon you two weren’t a thing, despite all the coupley things you did, something about Jungkook telling his mom you’re just a friend isn't right. You frown, listen as his mother, a voice just as delicate as his, asks him to grab something from inside. With each second that ticks by, the discomfort you feel grows tenfold, until you’re barely holding yourself together.

Eventually, Jungkook returns. “So what’s up?” He asks again, and you remember what you initially called for. Putting on your big girl pants, you brush your uncalled for insecurities to the side, making sure he can’t detect anything in your tone.

“Your Hulu password. Can I have it?” You say, realize how robotical your voice sounds and belatedly throw in a, “please.”

Jungkook laughs, loud and boyish. The sound almost makes you melt, makes you fall for him even more. The niggling doubt in the back of your head still rings, but it’s temporarily washed away by the man on the phone. “Finally giving in?” He chuckles, doesn’t give you time to respond. “Sure, babe. I’ll text you the login stuff.” You hum, twirl your pencil idly as Jungkook announces he has to go, something about his family waiting on him. You bid him adieu, send him a halfhearted kiss over the phone, and only hope he feels half as content as you do when he does the same for you.

You don’t want to be dramatic about it. In your heart of hearts, you know Jungkook is just more reserved when it comes to dating. He wants to be one hundred percent sure your heart is in the same game as his, tied to the same rules, and putting in the same effort. But there’s a seed of insecurity that plants itself in the back of your head, tells you the reason Jungkook hasn’t asked you out is simply because you’re not good enough.

Jungkook was as rich as they come—not in money, but in personality. (Well, with the way he was advancing through his career, you get the sense he’ll be rich rich in the next few years too.) He had a huge heart, so caring and supportive of those around him, and an even bigger moral compass—hence the ridiculous amounts of streaming services he paid for—and you strongly believed no one was worthy of standing beside someone as wonderful as him.

Sadly, that meant you too.

Jungkook was your dream lover, and with every passing day, you were beginning to think you weren’t his. It had been two months since your first date, and realistically speaking, you know it’s not weird for people to casually date for such a time. It hadn’t been that long, truthfully, but the way you and Jungkook had clicked made it seem so.

He treated you like a queen, pleased your heart and body like no other. None of what Doyeon said earlier was a fib—he picked you up from school in that classy Benz, let you stay the night and sleep in his clothes, ate you out in the morning like you were his breakfast. You acted like you were in a relationship, but what exactly were the two of you?

Were Jungkook’s feelings even at the same level as yours?

Some days, you couldn’t fathom the idea of being so far away from him, texting him incessantly to feel a semblance of his presence. There was always a metaphorical elephant sitting on your chest, the weight of your unlabeled relationship, your insecurities, waiting for him to finally cut you off, decide you’re not what he wants. You wonder sometimes if he sees you out of convenience, but you always remind yourself Jungkook was too emotional and soft to drag someone around like that. (Or was he?)

Realizing how deep you’ve fallen into your spiraling pit of uncertainty, you shake yourself of those thoughts, mindlessly typing in the Hulu login credentials Jungkook texts you.

—

You’re in the student center when Jungkook comes home, laptop and books spread out over a circle table to stop anyone else from coming up to you. You’ve got your headphones in, the background sounds of late 2000’s club music from a Jersey Shore episode drifting through your ears.

A hand suddenly grabs onto your shoulder, and you send nearly half the table’s contents onto the floor when you screech, leg blindly kicking the table. “Woah, woah,” Jungkook calms, pulling out an earbud for you, and the sight of his face makes you relax again, before you’re striking his chest.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” you warn, shooting daggers at him as he pulls a chair close to you, plopping down beside you. Jungkook laughs, kisses your temple.

“You doing okay, beautiful?” He inquires, and your heartbeat, which had only just begun to settle from your fright, lurches at the hooded gaze he sends you.

You nod, unconsciously lean closer to him. Jungkook smiles, cheeks pulled tight when you plant a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Glad to hear it,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close.

You never thought you’d be one of those people. Y’know, the couple shoving PDA down everyone’s throats in a very crowded place. But you can’t help it with Jungkook, gaze honed in on the mole beneath his lip as he recounts his trip to his family’s place. His hair is fluffy again, parted a little to the side to show his forehead. He’s got that big dark hoodie on, the one you love. Your love-addled brain thinks, I could give you a family, but you quickly shut that thought down.

There was no need to think as much for a man who wasn’t even your boyfriend.

Before you can spiral, there’s a set of fingers brushing over your neck, almost casually. You return your attention to Jungkook, watch him leisurely gaze over the bustling students around you. “Missed you,” he says quietly, like he doesn’t want anyone to hear. Hell, if your eyes hadn’t been trained on his face, you don’t think you would’ve.

Finally, he glances back at you. He says nothing, his eyes dipping down to your mouth. He leans forward, presses a smooch to your lips, only to smile at you afterward. “Come over?”

The difference between you and Jungkook is that you were very obviously, outwardly evil. You were not embarrassed to admit you were scheming, or that you had ulterior motives behind doing something. You used what you had to your advantage, mastered all types of expressions to get what you wanted.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was a subtle schemer. In fact, he was so goddamn subtle, you doubt he even knew he was a schemer.

But he definitely was one, and your experiences with him were enough to convince you so. There were times he’d stare at you longingly, like a puppy, until you’d do something for him. Times he’d use his demure face to lure you into going to the hardware store for him, into watching some boring documentary with him. Times, like now, where his voice was a little too smooth and low to be considered his normal pitch, clouded gaze sweeping over your features until you understood what he meant by come over.

Numbly, you nod, watch the quirk of his lips as he kisses you once more before gathering your things for you.

The car ride passes by in a flash, Jungkook’s hand on your knee, your head in the clouds. You imagine how easy it would be to just lean over right here, tug him out of his sweats and get that super suck 5000 on him. But Jungkook’s shy, the devil on your shoulder croons, he’d like it better in the backseat, where no one can see.

Your bag hasn’t even touched the floor yet when he pushes you against the door of his house, shoes and coats half off as he envelopes your lips with his.

His hands are warm, cupping your neck to guide you through the kiss, blindly pulling you down the hall. You feel him falter by the stairs, torn between just throwing you on the couch and ravishing you there or making the trip upstairs to the comfort of his bed. You reach up, run your fingers through his hair. “Wherever you want, baby,” you reassure him, and become consumed with glee when his hands grab into the backs of your thighs, hitch you into his arms as he rushes the two of you up the stairs.

The bed is as fluffy as you remember it, and you bounce up towards the pillows after he drops you on the end. He tugs his shirt over his head, chocolate strands coming out a mess afterwards, before crawling up your body. Jungkook’s hands are incessant, grabbing onto every inch of you he possibly can. He kisses up your tummy, pushing your shirt up as he goes, hikes it over the swell of your breasts to gently fondle them in his palms.

When he’s just about suffocated himself between them, he pops back out, catches your gaze with a twinkle in his. “Hi,” you squeak, and Jungkook grins, leaning up to kiss you.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he returns, let’s your tongue slide into his mouth, sucks on the appendage teasingly. You whimper, and Jungkook releases. “You miss me?” He asks, and if you hadn’t been well-versed in the art of Jungkook’s sexy talk, you wouldn’t have noticed the tingle of nervousness that curls around the question.

You placate him, “always.”

It’s all Jungkook needs as he wiggles you out of your clothes, shucks them off somewhere to the side. His hands trail over your body, massage your breasts and pinch the nipples. You sigh, melt into the sheets as he runs his palms over you. He rolls you over, pulls your hips up and carefully pushes your face into the mattress, pushing your hair to the side to peck your neck when he leans over.

“So soft for me, sweetheart,” he purrs, hands slithering around your waist, down your abdomen until the tip of his pointer finger is idly swirling over your clit.

You whine, clutch the comforter beneath you at the touch. “Oh, fuck,” you groan, push your hips back against him. He’s still got his sweats on, and you want desperately to turn around and rip them off of him, feel the press of his cock against your ass.

As if sensing your urgency, Jungkook calms you with kisses trailing over your spine, hot breath fanning over your neck. His fingers slow, just barely grazing over your clit. “Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” He asks, and you struggle to choke out a response when he presses his finger down against you.

“No,” you eventually gasp, jolt when his hand reaches down, glides through the swollen folds of your cunt.

As if content with your response, Jungkook lets his fingers caress you for a few beats, laps against the side of your neck as you whimper, beg him to continue. When he does, it’s with no ounce of his usual gentle attitude, two fingers shoving forcefully past the tight clench of your pussy lips, deep into your cunt. You shudder, gasping into the sheets.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises, flutters a kiss right below your ear. Your neurons are working overtime, unsure of what to do as he explores your cunt, fingers dragging against your walls. You want to close your eyes, bask in his touches, but every brush of his fingers has them rolling back, fluttering open. “This pussy is mine, isn’t it?”

His fingers curl, briefly brushing over your soft spot. But it’s enough to make you cry out, pant against the sheets. “Yours,” you choke, push back against him like he’ll do it again.

A thumb circles your clit, and the tight feeling in your belly snaps, has you crying out his name as your first orgasm in a few days washes over you. “Jungkook,” you whimper, nearly sob when his hands pull away, letting you flop down onto the mattress in a boneless heap. Your thighs feel sticky, and you watch blearily as Jungkook hovers behind you.

“So quickly?” He chuckles, turning you back over. He spreads your legs, exposing your pussy to the cool air of the room, and you shiver. A lone finger drags over your cunt, collecting the glossy substance on the tip, before Jungkook is sucking it into his mouth.

He had an affinity for this kind of stuff, you’ve learned. Like he genuinely thought your cum was the most delicious thing in the entire world. That being said, you’re not surprised when he ducks down, pushes your legs to your chest as he begins devouring your pussy.

“Slow down,” you gasp, hand curling in his hair as he spares you not, sensitivity be damned. He was gonna lick you clean. He groans, tongue shoved into your cunt, cute nose brushing against your clit. “Kook,” you warn, though it’s more of a shuddered cry. “I-I’ll come again.”

He pulls off with a wet smack, licks over his tongue as he narrows you with a daring glare. Gone was your sweet Jungkook, replaced with this cum-eating heathen who only purrs, “in my mouth” at your warning.

You scream when the second orgasm hits you, pushing his face against your cunt as his tongue continues, lapping at your folds and your hole as a gush of wetness spurts out of you. For a second, your vision pales, soundless cries caught in your throat as you come all over his face. When you touch down on earth again, your body feels featherlight.

Jungkook is watching you from between your thighs, his face, hair, and chest glistening.  “Oh fuck,” he gasps, shit-eating grin slowly consuming his features. “Did you just.”

You groan, cover your face with your palms as Jungkook settles over you, beaming excitedly at your newest ability. “No,” you whine, pushing him away from where he’s basically glued to your cheek. “That’s so weird.”

He laughs, cute and airy. “Fuck, sweetheart, you squirted all over me,” he sighs, cuddles against you, and you wrap your arms around him only to hide your face in his shoulder, also glistening with your pleasure. He shifts closer, and the hard press of his cock rubs along the inside of your thigh.

“Can we take a break?” You murmur quietly, hesitantly. “I can’t feel my legs.” Jungkook nods, presses a kiss to your temple as he gets off the bed, tossing his t-shirt over to you. He stumbles towards the en-suite, comes back with a dry face and chest; his hair is still damp. He tugs the sheets out from under you, cuddles close. He’s got the two of you wrapped up in no time, your head cradled against his shoulder as he reaches out blindly for the tablet he keeps on the side of his bed, the Hulu app already open.

“Any requests?” He hums, scrolling through the multitude of movies and shows. You wiggle closer, stop his finger when he returns to the home page, and Jersey Shore is the first thing to appear. “You’re kidding.”

“It’s a good show!” You defend, click on it before he can argue. You press closer, throw a leg over his waist where you can feel his still rock hard member hiding beneath his sweats. Poor guy, you think, he must be suffering. But you have to rest for a moment if you wanna ride the shit out of him and knock him breathless like you’d planned.

Jungkook doesn’t comment on the erection he’s sporting, instead choosing to criticize everything wrong with Jersey Shore. You’re not surprised. He’s an avid film nerd, obsessed with ‘real’ storylines, not whatever reality tv shows were.

You’ve seen this episode about a hundred times, so you don’t really mind that he completely ruins it for you with his nitpicking. It’s cute, listening to him ramble about television integrity while you listen to the subtle thudding of his heart beneath your ear.

He’s on his fifth slandering of DJ Pauly D when you decide you’ve had enough, muscles in your legs feeling rejuvenated as you wiggle into his lap, toss the tablet off to the side as you straddle him. “That show makes you hard?” You tease, let your sensitive folds settle over the bulge in his pants.

Jungkook combusts, cheeks flushing at your jab. “No,” he huffs, “my pretty girlfriend’s boobs pressed up against me does.”

You short circuit.

“Huh?” You blurt dumbly. Jungkook rolls his eyes, too concerned with guiding your hips over his crotch to realize you’re having a complete meltdown in your head. An airy moan leaves his mouth, head lolling back against the pillows, when he moves you just right, grinds against you perfectly. But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. “Kook,” you say, cup his face in your palms to force him to look you in the eye.

Jungkook huffs, pointedly looking down at where you sit on him, “babe, gonna need you to—“

“What did you say?” You interrogate, press your foreheads together until he has no choice but to look at you.

Annoyed with your act, he groans. “Babe, your hips,” he urges, almost desperately.

“No,” you retort, “not until you say it again.”

“Say what again?” He cries, lips twitching in irritation, and you’re about two seconds from behind shoved into the mattress, pounded into from behind like he’d done the last time you teased him a little too much.

“That I’m your girlfriend!” You exclaim, heart hammering in your ears.

Jungkook seems to finally halt at that. “Oh,” he responds, leaning back to scan over your expression. “You are?” He says, unsure of what point you’re trying to make.

Your brain fizzes at the news. “Since when?” You cry, suddenly feeling dumb for all the time you spent moping over this perfect boy you thought didn’t want you. “You never asked!”

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed stare, reaches over for the iPad you tossed to the side, some dramatic fight scene on a boardwalk taking place on screen. You wanna scream. Why is he so concerned with Jersey Shore now of all times?

Before you can rain down your displeasure on him, he’s turning it around and showing you a bookmarked email.

It’s from you, apparently, sent a few weeks back at exactly two in the morning. You glance at the date received. It’s from Doyeon’s half birthday, when the two of you had drunk yourselves silly on wine. The title is some mix of dashes and exclamation points, but that’s irrelevant when the contents of the email come to view, some stupid slur of beeee myyy boyfrienderdd????? ;))((;;; that has your jaw dropping in mortification.

You glance back at Jungkook, who seems just as confused as you. “What the hell?” You shriek, snatch the tablet from his hand to see that not only was it a single email, but a thread of emails all asking the same question—there’s even a three stanza sonnet detailing your love for the mole on the side of his neck. You could die. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?! I was so drunk— how could you even take me seriously?”

Jungkook shrugs, almost amused now as he watches you scroll through the twenty emails you sent him. “The next day you told me you really liked me over lunch, so I didn’t mind. Besides,  drunk words are sober thoughts, y’know.”

You stare in disbelief. “You told your mom I was your friend,” you whisper.

The blood rises to his cheeks quickly. “Babe,” he sputters. “I’m not exactly introducing her to every girl I date after three weeks.”

It makes sense, and you hate how much it does so. Pursing your lips, you look away, focus on the bedside table and hope he doesn’t see the tears that threaten to spew out of your eyes. He does, he always does. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He hums, sits up to pull you into his arms. One hand brushes over the back of your head, gently. Softly. “Did that upset you?”

You shake your head no, can’t help the ugly Kim Kardashian sob that rips itself from your throat. “I thought you didn’t like me,” you sniffle, covering your face with the iPad when he tries to duck closer and get a look at you. “Because it’s been two months.”

Jungkook shushes you, hugs you close to his chest as you cry like a baby over some apparently unjustifiable doubts. “That big brain of yours,” he sighs, kisses the frown of your head. “Too busy being evil to be logical.” You whine in protest, and Jungkook chuckles, carefully laying back with you clinging to his chest.

He lets you cry it out, palms rubbing over your back, listens to the annoying Jersey Shore opening song playing when the episode ends. When you’re done, you sit up, try to pretend your eyes aren’t swollen and puffy. Jungkook smiles. “All good?”

You might love him.

“I’m gonna ride you,” you announce, and he chokes in surprise, and before he can try to convince you it’s okay, you’re wrestling his sweats and boxers off, taking his half hard cock into your hand. Jungkook flounders, tries to calm you down, but you’re on a mission, working your hand over him until he’s fattening in your hold, melting into the pillows.

“Baby,” he grunts, rolling his hips into your palm. You lean over, pucker your lips and let a thick drop of saliva fall onto the tip of his cock. It trickles over your fingers, makes it easier to run your hands over him. Jungkook groans, reaches down to cup his hand over yours, urging you to squeeze tighter.

When he’s finally as hard as you want him, tip engorged and angry, you sit up, place your palms on his chest as you scoot over him. Jungkook watches you with dark eyes, skin flushed as you line him up. His hands reach for your hips to steady you, tiny gasps falling from his lips at the first prod against your folds. You’re wet from watching him squirm beneath you, from feeling the heavy weight of his cock in your hand, and you hope he feels how much he excites you.

“That’s it,” he croons as you slowly sink down on him, whimpers catching in your throat from the stretch. “That’s my girl.”

Jungkook is purposeful with his words, smiles at you when the muscles in your thighs jolt at the term. When you’re seated to the hilt, folds brushing against his pelvis, Jungkook ruts experimentally. “Fuck,” he chokes breathlessly.

You let your body adjust, spine tingling with every subtle shift from the man beneath you, still so sensitive from your two orgasms from before. Jungkook waits, even though you know all he wants to do right now is fuck up into you like a madman.

When you’re relaxed enough, you begin to move, pushing yourself on your knees slowly, hissing at the drag of his cock against your folds. “F-Fuck,” you whimper, fingernails scratching against where you’ve got them on his chest still. Jungkook grips your hips tightly, and you unconsciously reach for his forearms to steady yourself instead.

“There you go,” he purrs as you slowly pick up the pace, cock sliding inside of you rougher, faster. You know it’s mostly him, muscles in his arms flexing as he moves you up and down, but you don’t care—it feels so good, the upward curve of his cock brushing against your soft spot with each drop of your hips.

He holds you down on one thrust, grinds you over his cock until your clit is rubbing against him roughly, and you cry out his name. You want to kiss him, so very badly, but your position makes it hard. Besides, the sweat beginning to pool in the deep of his collarbones hinted at his oncoming orgasm.

Still, you can’t help the way your eyes instinctively go to trace over his mouth, pouty lips pushed out even more in exertion, teeth grinding together every time your pussy swallows him anew. “Kook,” you mewl, hips bucking forward.

He hums, plants his feet firmly on the mattress as he begins fucking into you. “What is it?” He grunts, pistons into your dripping cunt as you whimper, pleasure crawling up and down your spine. “My pretty girl needs something?”

You wail, nod your head as he continues fucking, ramming his cock into your quivering hole, precum dripping over him. “Yours,” you gasp, mind stuck on what he’d said earlier. “‘M all yours,” you sob, body finally giving out, and you barely catch yourself from falling into him with a palm pressed flatly against his chest.

Jungkook smirks, bucks into you brutally, like he wants you to fall into a boneless heap on top of him. “Yeah, you are,” he groans, as you finally give in, lips brushing against his ear when you flop down on him. “My pretty girl,” he huffs, and you nod, muscles pulled taut as your orgasm begins looming over you. “So cute and mean,” he rambles, lips pressed to your temple. His hips are beginning to lose their rhythm, thrusts growing stilted as he chases his high. “But you know what?” He murmurs, and you whimper. “I like her just like that.”

If his words don’t knock the air out of your lungs, your orgasm surely does. It makes you shudder, the way his hands run over your body, cock ruts into your heat, and you almost cry when the pleasure gets a hold of you. Your muscles tighten, and then loosen, melting into his chest. You’re trembling in his arms, like a leaf holding onto a branch for dear life, choked gasps of his name muffled against his neck.

Jungkook pistons into you, rounds the final corner in his race to orgasm, and eventually spurts his hot cum into you, coats your walls as another reminder that you’re his. He’s a silent orgasmer, sounds catching in his throat as his body twitches beneath you, silent even afterwards as he regains his senses.

A few moments later, you’re shifting out of his hold, pushing yourself onto your elbows to glance down at him. Jungkook’s eyes are shut, but, as if sensing you’re looking at him, he flutters them open, chocolate irises softening at the sight of you.

“Holy shit,” he groans, rolls you off of him carefully. His hand brushes over your thigh, like he’s contemplating licking you clean again, but you stop him with a pointed raise of your brows. “Fine. Pass me the tablet.”

You do, and it’s almost unnerving how easily the two of you slip back into comfort, Jungkook changing into some shorts and handing you your discarded panties, before climbing into bed to watch Jersey Shore. You’ve missed about an entire hour-long episode, so you end up rewinding until the point you last saw.

“You and your Netflix and chilling,” Jungkook snorts, head nestled against your breasts. You roll your eyes.

“This is Hulu,” you point out.

“Oh yeah,” he hums, snuggles closer. His body feels so nice and warm over yours, hands wrapped around you like a lifeline. You end up positioning the tablet off by your hip, supported by a pillow so the two of you can watch properly.

You’re still processing your new title, your new boyfriend, when he perks his head up suddenly, solemn gaze catching yours.

“Hulu and Woohoo,” he says, ever so seriously, and you understand why Doyeon thinks he’s a fool.

[ part three ; imax & climax ]

[nightowlfandom]

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher x Reader- 27 (Part 3/Finale)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Alright you weenies, here’s the last part of 27....

I realized I’ve also made an error, I forgot that they already killed her other boyfriend, so let’s say the ex they killed in the previous chapter was a different ex.

leggo

...

Today was the day and you were excited.

Vengeance, the cherry on top, the final piece of this damned puzzle. You had snapped. You were completely bloodthirsty now and you WISHED someone would try to stop you. You had come a long way. A VERY long way. It was safe to say both Billy and Stu rubbed off on you a tremendous amount and you were absolutely fucking ready!

It didn’t help that you had two killers hyping you up to all hell. From Billy whispering how many hours were left in the day to Stu commenting about how hot he’d think it would be to have sex in a pool of blood.

When it came time to leave, the boys offered to walk you home.

“So who you gonna get first?” Billy held your hand as Stu stood your opposite side with an arm around your shoulder. 

“Definitely the old man.” you declared. “I want to watch the life leave his eyes. He’s the reason behind all this.”

“How so?” Stu asked.

“He’s convinced I’m not really his child, he’s been trying to get me out of that house since I turned 12...” the guys noticed your significant mood change. “Nevermind that.” you shook your head. “My mom can fuck off with the rest of them, her and her can-do-no-wrong, perfect home bullshit.” you seethed. “I’ll explain while everything’s going down.”

...

“I’m home...if anyone gives a shit.” you grumbled the last part. You walked in to see your mother and father along with Hannah’s mother and father. They were all sitting at the table. Hannah’s mom and dad were bawling their yes out while your parents comforted them.

“Y/N...I’m glad your here.” you father spoke up. “We were talking about funeral arrangements.”

“For the daughter you wish you had instead of me? Not interested.” you rolled your eyes. “If you need me, I’ll be doing homework. Parentals, friends. Friends parentals.” you shortly introduced Billy and Stu to your folks. 

“Nice to meet you.” Billy managed to express. Stu put on a fake smile and waved. 

“Keep your door open so we can hear you!”

“Why would I close the door? You guys would just kick it open anyways.” you grunted. 

You had no reason to be cordial with your family anymore, just because they wanted to put on a show for your guests, you’d give them a damn show.

“Y/N don’t talk to your mother like that.”

“Then I’ll talk to Hannah’s family.” you turned to the two mortified adults.

You could see Billy and Stu out of the corner of your eyes, both looking like they were about to burst out laughing.

“Y/N we have nothing against you.” Hannah’s mom wept. “We knew Hannah could be a bit much.”

“Hannah was much? Oh No Mrs. Doyle. Your husband screwing around with your teenage secretary was much.” you crossed your arms. “Your daughter was a fucking nightmare and I’m glad no one has to put up with her shit anymore.”

You wanted to see just how far you could take this before your parents exploded. 

“Y/N L/N!” Your father rose from his seat, ready to storm over.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Stu was first to stand in front of you. “Mr. L/N with all due respect, I’d advise you against that.”

“And just who do you think you are?” 

“The man whose about to be responsible for your funeral if you take another step.” Billy stood next to Stu, the both of them making a human wall, separating you from them. “Geez Y/N you weren’t kidding.”

“You should see our security camera footage.” you scoffed. 

“Well this has been a lovely chat but we really must be going.” Mrs. Doyle stood to her feet. 

“Oh nononono~” Billy sang with conviction. “Sit your asses down...let’s play a little game.” (I know Saw hadn’t been made yet, just go with it.)

...

Watching back the camera footage hurt a lot more than you thought it would. You couldn’t imagine how everyone else was feeling. Both of Hannah’s parents were tied up with blindfolds over their eyes. Stu had knocked out your dad and tied him to the table while Billy handled your mom, duct-taping her hands and wrists to a chair...

“Look at that. An innocent little girl...” Billy shook his head as he listed to your parents berate you to your face. You blocked everything out while you watched. How Hannah and her would smile in your face all the while being your biggest tormentors. How you couldn’t tell your mother or father because they never believed you the first ten times you tried. 

It was all crashing down on you now.

There was an eerie silence as your crying voice filled your own ears. You were used to crying yourself to sleep by that time. All of this happening a little before you met the boys.

“Y/N, whatever you have to tell us, we don’t have to involve them.” your mother sobbed.

“Mommy....you’re crying.” your voice broke as you opened your mouth to speak for the first time in a couple of hours. “But what about when I was crying?....What about when I was in the hospital scared for my life? What about when you guys were threatening to ship me across country....” much like you did with Hannah, you kicked the chair sending your mother falling back.

“And you.” you turned towards your dad. “I know you don’t believe I’m your biological daughter...and guess what...I hope I’m not either.” you growled, staring down at the now cowering man. “You are pathetic...both of you.” you turned back towards the TV screen. A video of you in your bedroom (since your parents didn’t believe in privacy) was playing. You were on the phone with your friend Kyla.

“No, no I know Ky.” you laughed. You had a much different laugh than you do now. “...I don’t know, it’s hard to trust cute faces like theirs.”

Your eyes widened as you listened to what you were saying. Before you could go to turn it off, Stu had taken you in a hug. “Oh no princess, don’t be rude...let the video play!”

“Do I like them?....Maybe...okay totally!” you watched yourself squeal as you threw the pillow you were hugging across the room. “Kyla I wish you were here to see them THEY ARE SO-” you covered your mouth to stop from shouting too loud. “They are so cute and so hot and they wanna be seen with me!...of all people! No I’m not gonna make a move on them.”

“Awww Y/N has a crushy wushy on us!” Stu gushed. “We love you too baby!” Stu abruptly kissed you, right there. You almost forgot Billy was standing there. 

“Woah...” you almost lost balance. 

“Young lady! How dare you-” You father tried to said.

“Oh shut up!” Stu took it upon himself to finish the job. 

(OKAY SHEILD YOUR EYES NOW)

Stu wrapped a hand around your dad’s neck and applied pressure, so much to the point where his face went blue within a mere 5 seconds. Stu laughed maniacally, only seeming to tighten his grip while Billy continued to antagonize your mother, laughing in her face while she watched the horror happen with her husband.

“Y/N...why?” your dad choked as he struggled.

“Why not...and while we’re here.” you shrugged. “I killed Hannah.”

“WHAT?”

You almost forgot Hannah’s parents were in the room, listening to everything go down.

“Oh yeah.” you shrugged. “Bitch had it coming...the better question is what should I do to you two.” you crossed your arms as you thought.

...(Time skip)

“Pretty isn’t it.” You gazed up at the stars. 

“Not as pretty as you.” Billy flirted, using his sleep to wipe your face. As you all sat on the front steps of your porch, ambulances and cop cars lined up the street for many blocked.

“I agree.” Stu wrapped an arm around you waist. “Be honest, how do you feel?”

“I feel free.” you replied, letting out a large sigh. The cops had just finished questioning you. Your story was clear. Your dad lunged at your mom first and Hannah’s parents saw too much...then he accidently tripped and hung himself. Perfect crime. Billy and Stu were walking by when they heard your cries for help and they hopped in.

As to how you three managed to escape unscathed, they got you out of there in time just as he was hanging himself. As for the tapes playing on the T.V...they were watching old videos to find something to ground you for. (Something they usually did anyways.)

“Good.”

“I just don’t know where I’m gonna live now. My aunt lives the next city over and that’s a long drive.”

“Hm...just gonna have to live with us now!” Stu shrugged, we’ll all be like a married couple!

“All...as in-”

“Yes, the three of us.” Billy grabbed your attention. “Lucky you, eh?” He pecked your lips when the officers wasn’t looking just as Stu planted a smooch on the back of your head.

“Young lady.” the officer walked up to you three. “You’re lucky to have escaped them, that psychopath stabbed your mother 27 times...who does that?!”

You paused before you gave your answer. “I guess he was just fed up, officer.” 

Stu tried hard to contain his laughter while Billy coughed into his hand, you all knowingly shared a look.

Yes...fed up indeed.

(So...I guess this slasher stuff might be a regular thing...I kinda like it)

[jawabear]

1 of 10 (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Not my GIF (look at this man...)

A/N: so here’s that Bucky fic I’ve been talking about. This took me too long to write but I like it? I’m absolutely loving Falcon and The Winter Soldier! I’ve mentioned this before but Bucky Barnes is my all time favourite fictional character. This is set before the events of episode one but maybe like a week or so before. I hope you enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, tfatws spoilers, Bucky being awkward, nightmares, therapy, Bucky isn’t as smooth as he was in the 40s but he’s still cute

Summary: Bucky has ten contacts in his phone. One of which belongs the the girl he feels he has been searching for for 106 long years.

The times in which he found himself now were more than confusing. But that was the best way Bucky could think to describe them. For him though it seemed a lot worse than for others. For others, they had a gap of five years missing. For Bucky, he had far more than that.

From 1943 to 2023 there was a lot missing. He remembered it however. He remembered everything. The good, the bad, and the horrifying. What was meant by missing was that it wasn’t him who was living. He had missed out on living between those years. He had missed out on everything. And he knew, like the billions of others, he would never get those years back.

But now he was a civilian. Working to make amends from his past after being given a pardon. However, settling into his new easy life was proving far from that. It had been a few months now since the whole ordeal with saving the blipped half of humanity, Bucky included, and it had been a few months now since Steve went back in time and started a new life leaving him and Sam behind.

Sam. Right.

Sam was an avenger. More so than Bucky could ever be. So he was off doing his avenging work while Steve’s shield gathered dust in a wardrobe somewhere he was sure. Sam didn’t have it in him to take up the mantle of Captain America. He felt the shield belonged to someone else. It was Steve’s. It only ever could be.

More often than perhaps Bucky would like, he would get texts from Sam. Asking him how he was and telling him about missions he was going on. Bucky never replied. He didn’t know how to half the time and he didn’t want to.

He didn’t know how he was. He didn’t know if he was okay. He was forced to go see a therapist but all he did was lie to her.

“Have you had any nightmares recently?” She would ask him.

Bucky would think back to the night before their meeting and all the others as well. Each night he’d have to be faced with the horrors of his past. Every mission he carried out. Every person he carelessly killed.

“No” he would answer. And it wasn’t like he was wrong in his answer. The things he saw in his sleep were not nightmares they were memories. The nightmarish horrors he was were his reality, so when he said no in response to her question, he found it difficult to be accused of lying.

There were few things he could agree with her about. But the one thing he could see eye to eye with her about was the fact he was alone.

Sure, he had Sam. But only when Bucky wanted to acknowledge him which had not been often as of recently. And as his therapist so kindly pointed out he only had ten contacts on his phone. But in his defence, he still wasn’t used to the whole world of mobile communications and internet. So his phone was basically redundant to him. His mind was still in the 1940s where you’d find a date, what would now be classed as, the old fashioned way. By looking in person and talking. Not just texting or swiping left or right on an app.

Granted, Bucky did try his hand in online dating but it was far too much for him. It wasn’t only hard for him to figure out but also he saw too much of people he didn’t even know. The openness of the internet was something that was mind boggling to him. So that was thrown out of the window pretty quickly.

But what his therapist had failed to note was one name in his contacts. The name of his neighbour and quite possibly the one he wanted to end his loneliness with.

Back in his time, when he didn’t just have the looks of someone in their 20s, Bucky was in fact quite popular and good with the ladies. But the ladies, he found, of this new age were completely different to the ones of his time. Not that there was a problem, he just knew that he couldn’t used the same moves now as what he could back then.

He met (Y/N), his neighbour, as he was first moving in. After coming back, loosing Steve and getting a pardon, Bucky thought it be best to try and start a new. He did that by moving back to his old home of Brooklyn. His old apartment was obviously gone and with little money to his name he couldn’t afford the one that replaced it. It was far to big for him anyway. But he managed to find a smaller more affordable one and he much preferred it. If not only for the quieter location then the others in the building too.

(Y/N) was the first person he spoke too when back in Brooklyn. She was sweet and kind when introducing herself. She offered to help him move in but he really didn’t have that much stuff to use in making his new apartment more homely. And he had no food either. So (Y/N) did the neighbourly thing and invited him in for some food. A meal of sorts although she didn’t have much food either at the time. Even so, it was nice for him to be in company for once. And it was such warm company. They didn’t speak about much but he learnt a few things about her.

And now, on most Thursday evenings, he’ll find himself with her in her apartment eating a meal, sometimes she’ll cook, sometimes they’ll order take out, but he enjoys it regardless.

It was clear from the offset that she knew who he was. He frantically explained to her that he wasn’t what he used to be anymore and explained the terms of his pardon and how he’s making amends. But he needn’t have waste his breath on it. She didn’t seem to care about it. About who he used to be. She told him that she doesn’t live in peoples pasts and that she wanted to get to know him for who he is, not who he was. Those words meant a great deal to him. And from that moment on he had fallen for her.

Bucky sighed as he dragged himself up the stairs to his floor. He desperately wished there was some way of getting out of these therapy sessions. But he was tied to them. He couldn’t stop going to them even though he wanted too. But there, it wasn’t really like he had anything better to do. Nothing but either sitting at home in silence or walking around busy streets constantly looking over his shoulder. Those were his only other options.

As he walked to his apparent at the end of the hallway (Y/N)’s door opened and she walked out dressed for the outdoors, it was getting cold so it was smart of her to be wearing a warm coat. “(Y/N)” he called gently to her. She lifted her head after locking her door and gave him a warm smile.

“Hi James” She said, she always called him James rather than Bucky. He didn’t know why but he didn’t exactly mind. “How was your session today?” She had memorised the times at which he went to his therapy sessions. She probably knew he schedule better than he did.

Bucky shrugged “the usual” he told her making her laugh a little.

“That bad huh?”

“I guess” he said scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, I’m heading to the store to get some food if you wanted to talk on the way? Don’t feel you have to”

“No, that sounds good” he tried to smile but it was a little awkward, but she didn’t seem to say anything and just motioned her head for him to follow.

The shop wasn’t too far away so it was a quick walk. Bucky wasn’t the talkative type, not really anyway. Especially not to someone he didn’t like. And Dr Raynor was someone who he didn’t like. He was sure that deep down she was a lovely person but he didn’t like the fact she was insistent in getting him to admit his feelings. Although that was her job.

It wasn’t long until they arrived at the store “so what happened?” (Y/N) asked as she picked up a basket.

“Just the usual...she asked me if I had a nightmare-“

“Did you?” Bucky didn’t answer and just looked away from her. “James, you know that it’s her job to help you. And it’s in your best interest to let her”

“I know...but at the same time...I don’t see the point. These things are mandatory. So if I don’t want to go then I don’t see it being helpful”

“I can understand that” her eyes flicking between two boxes of cereal as she inwardly decried in which one to get, but her indecisive nature got the better of her so she opted to get both. Her indecisiveness, Bucky thought, was incredibly cute. It linked in with her kindness, on their Thursday evening meals together it takes ages just to decide what to have. “But still,” she continued, Bucky following her like a lost puppy “like you said, it’s mandatory. And there are people who would love to be in your position. Getting therapy I mean. So you should at least make the most of it while you can”

“I mean...yeah. I guess. But...I don’t know I just...well it’s easier to talk to someone like you then it is to talk to her” (Y/N) smiled at little at this as she finished putting on the last few items before making her way to the till.

Neither of them said much else. Expect for (Y/N) making light conversation with the cashier as she paid although both (Y/N) and Bucky knew that the cashier really didn’t want to be there. Luckily it didn’t take long for (Y/N) to bag her items and pay for them before they were both leaving the store.

It had gotten colder outside then when they left originally. (Y/N) shivered and pulled her coat around her a little more before they both began walking back to their apartment building.

“So what is it about me that makes you find it easier to talk?” She asked, she brushed her hair from her face as a sudden gust of wind blew it out of place when she turned to look at him.

“Well...” he muttered shoving his hands into his pockets “for one, you don’t sit there with a passive aggressive notebook ready to write shit about me” this made her laugh a little, she always found it funny when he’d talk about this notebook Dr Raynor had. She didn’t really know why he hated it so much, and she knew she shouldn’t have found it funny but he never stopped her from laughing about it, in fact often times he would join in thereby encouraging her.

“Yes, that is something better I guess. Although, I’m sure I could find a notebook if you wanted” she teased.

“Oh god. Please don’t” He said holding back a smile.

“Anything else?” She asked him.

Bucky thought for a moment. There were many things about her that made it easier for him to talk to her, but he couldn’t list them all. For one, that would be embarrassing, and two he didn’t think he’d have the breath to do it. “Well-“

He was cut off when he saw (Y/N)’s smile fall and her pace began to slow right down to a stop. Bucky stopped and looked at her “everything okay?” He asked her, his voice full of concern.

She turned sharply to the side so she was facing the road “y-yeah..” she stuttered nervously “just...my ex is walking this way and I really don’t want him to see me”

Bucky felt a strange feeling inside him. He didn’t even know she had been in a relationship. It must’ve been a recent thing right? Unless it was a really bad break up in the past, or this guy had done something to her to prompt her being so on edge. Bucky turned to try and scope out this guy but he didn’t have a clue what he was looking for. So he reached over to her and pulled up her hood on her hoodie that she wore under her coat and pulled her into his side so that her face was hidden from view.

“Tell me when he’s gone” Bucky muttered to her. She nodded her head and let him walk her along the path, she kept her eye on the path ahead as best she could while still covering her face. But she was now more focused on two things, his arm around her and his wonderful smell. Never did she think she’d ever get this close to him. She never thought he’d let her, but here she was attached to his side with his arm wrapped around her, holding her protectively against him.

And his smell. It was just as comforting as she dreamed it would be. A mix of his cologne and what she could only describe as Him. All she wanted to do now was to just melt into his strong and warm embrace and just stay there forever.

In all her daydreaming she didn’t notice that her ex had long since walked by and they had reached the entrance to their apartment building and she didn’t tell him he could let go or that it was safe for her to walk properly.

Bucky came to a stop and slowly slipped his arm from her “I mean...I take it he’s gone now right?” He said a little nervously. (Y/N) stood up straight and pushed the hood from her head and nodded quickly, her cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“Yeah. Yes, right. Sorry. Yes. He’s gone. I um...I just wanted to make sure he didn’t suddenly turn around you know? That’s all” she said in an unconvincing tone. But Bucky himself was too flustered to actually care that she was flustered as well.

“Of course, that’s smart. Well we made it back” he said stepping up to the door and pushing it open for her. She nodded and thank you and quickly hopped inside the building, Bucky following after her.

The walk up the stairs was an awkward silence. They felt like teenagers after their first ever date. Who says something first? What do they even say? Luckily for them, this wasn’t a first date, and they weren’t teenagers. They were fully grown, mature adults. But that doesn’t mean adults can’t get flustered in the presence of their crush...right?

After what felt like hours, but was more like five painstaking minuets, they finally got to their floor and walked down the hall, both briefly forgetting that they lived right next to each other.

(Y/N) stopped at her door and placed her bag of food on the floor to fish out her keys from her pocket. “Uh...you want to come in?” She asked whilst fiddling around in her pocket to find the keys. “I know it’s not Thursday but we didn’t really talk as much as usual...” her voice seemed to trail off as she finally found her keys and put them in the key hole before unlocking the door. “You don’t have too..”

“I’d...like to...” he said in a soft voice with a gentle smile to try and put her at ease even though he too was freaking out inside. She smiled back and picked up her bag before walking inside her apartment, he did too.

They both made their way into her small kitchen and he made himself at home by sitting in his usual seat at her white kitchen table and she began to unpack the shopping “Do you want me to help?” He asked her as he went to stand up but she waved off his offer.

“No no, it’s fine. There’s only a few bits anyway” she told him as she began to pack each item away in its rightful place.

“So uh...” Bucky began quietly as he scraped his metal finger again the wood table. “This ex of yours...what’s the story there?”

Bucky was a little cautious of his words. He didn’t want to say anything to hurt or offend her but at the same time he wanted to know what about the guy made her so on edge earlier.

“Oh uh...” she muttered as she pulled two cups from her cupboard.

“You don’t need to tell me if you want want to. Sorry..”

“It’s fine” she assured him “nothing really happened I guess. It was just a bad break up. He didn’t really take it well and for a few weeks after that he just kept texting me and trying to call me. He came round to my place too to try and get me back. He never did know how to take no for an answer. But about a month ago he finally got the message and stopped all contact with me. Seeing him today...I was just worried that he’d try it all again”

“He sounds like a real asshole” Bucky said flatly making her laugh a little as she went about making some tea for the both of them. “But in his defence, if I lost a girl like you, I’d struggle with taking no for an answer as well”

(Y/N) let out a nervous laugh and almost dropped his tea cup from the shock of his comment but she was a little more used to his flirtatious nature that would sometimes make an appearance when they were in her apartment. After he told her about his boyish charms back in the 40s she noticed how he would often slip back into that era. It was cute to say the least.

She set down his tea in front of him and he flashed her a “thank you” smile before wrapping his fingers around it.

There was a brief silence in the room. She was greatly over thinking is earlier comment. But so was he. Maybe he shouldn’t have said it. He meant it though. But what if he had pushed the limit a little too far?

“What was the other reason?” She asked him, her finger nail scratching again the tea cup trying to avoid eye contact with him at all costs.

“Huh?” He questioned looking over the table to her.

“Earlier. You were going to give me another reason why I’m easier to talk to. What was it?”

Bucky’s muscles tensed as his fingers gripped the tea cup handle as he stared into the black tea she had made for him. “If I’m being honest...” he began slowly “I think...there are too many reasons why I find talking to you easier. But I guess one is that you don’t do it because you have to or it’s your job to. You do it out of kindness. And it’s...easier to talk to someone who’s listening because they want to. And yes, I get that Dr Raynor probably does want to help me but I also know that at the end of the day, it’s all for a pay check. But with you...you do it because you want to. Or at least...I think you want to”

“I do want to, James. I’ll always be around to ask if you’re okay. And to make you okay when you’re not. I care about you...”

“And...I care about you. Another reason I prefer talking to you is because...I like you...a lot. I just think you’re the most beautiful woman, and you have such a sweet and caring nature and a good heart that is wasted on me. But I can’t help but like you...” he couldn’t really believe he just said what he did. He wasn’t mean to tell her that. It was meant to stay a secret within him into the end of time. But there was a shift in atmosphere that just made it all slip out.

“You...you like me?” She asked, still not looking at him.

“Yeah...” he said. There was a little more confidence in his voice as he admitted his feelings towards her.

“I like you too..” she too held a little more confidence in her voice as she admitted her returned feelings. It felt...good. Especially since she knew he returned the feelings she had harboured for him since they met.

She stood abruptly and held her hand out to him. He looked at it and looked up at her again before taking her hand. She pulled him to his feet and a little close to her.

He smirked a little as he looked down at her “you want me to kiss you or something?” He said almost proudly.

“Yes..” she said “but first...I want to know something”

“What do you want to know?” He asked her. She squeezed his hand and dragged him out of her kitchen.

She lead him to her bedroom and noticed the worried expression on his face when he looked at her bed. This was what she wanted to know.

“You don’t have a bed in your apartment...” She told him quietly. (Y/N) turned her body so she was facing him completely, he cautiously lifted his hands to settle on her waist.

“I know...” he mumbled.

“Why?”

Bucky paused but he felt safe enough to give her an honest answer “I...I’m...scared. Of them”

“What is it about a bed that scares you?” She whispered, her fingers gently trailing down his cheeks. Bucky didn’t answer right away, for one he was to busy focusing of the beautiful touch of her hands, and for another, he didn’t really know the answer to her question. But he could take a guess.

“Because I...I don’t think I’ve slept in one since 1943. And I...after everything I’ve done...I don’t deserve to lie in such luxury...” his voice was quiet and barely audible, had it not been for the close proximity they were in, she probably wouldn’t have heard him.

“James...” she laid her forehead against his and he instinctively griped her waist a little tighter. The comfort and warmth she was bringing him was something he didn’t want to loose. She was someone he didn’t want to loose. He felt safer with no one but her. For once he actually felt...okay. But he felt he was holding her too tightly, but if he was she was wasn’t willing to tell him that.

“You know that you have no reason to be afraid. You are changing. You are becoming a good man. You do deserve to live in luxury, even if that starts with sleeping in a proper bed. Maybe it is scary for you...but...if you’ll allow me, I’ll help you face it”

“Please...” he whispered with a nod before pressing his lips to hers.

05/04/21

Taglist: @lunaserenade @phoenixhalliwell @slytherin4ever

[maddiwrites]

Secret Lives (Part 2)

Paring: JJ Maybank x reader 

Summary: You and JJ never got along so your friends trap the two of you on a boat in the middle of the marsh to work it out. Only it doesn’t go as planned. (Part 2)

Note: I couldn’t be happier with the feedback I am getting from Part 1!! Thank you guys so much for helping me out and hanging on there with me as I figure all of this out! I’m so grateful for all the comments and messages and I am ready every single one! Now I saw a couple people asking to be a part of a tag list...so if someone could tell me how to set one of them up I would be more than happy to lol. I will tag the two people I’ve seen who asked to be tagged! But yeah, am I supposed to set something up for a tag list or do people just message me if they want to be tagged in my stuff? Someone let me know!! 

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: Language, angst, small parts of child abuse. 

Part 1

It’s been about two weeks since you’ve seen or talked to the Pogues. Everyday felt ten hours longer and the air felt thinner. You missed your friends. You missed surfing with John B, you missed debating about the accuracy of medical TV shows with Pope, you missed sleepovers with Kie, and yes, you even missed JJ. 

As much as you hated yourself for it, you knew you did the right thing. Staying with the Pogues would have caused more harm than good. It was clear as day that you and JJ would never get along because he didn’t like you and you weren’t going to stand around and be insulted by a guy you still can’t help but think about every single day. 

Every night, you pictured the hatred behind JJ’s blue eyes when he spoke about you being nothing but a spoiled brat who didn’t deserve his trust or your friendship with the other Pogues. Each word felt like an individual stab to the heart. You were use to people not liking you. The girls at your school hated you for not giving them the time of day, the boys threw hurtful remarks at you all the time after you rejected them. But they never hurt as much JJ’s. Because they didn’t come from the guy you loved. 

It didn’t matter how much JJ hated you. You couldn’t help but fall for his sparkling blue eyes, tan skin, and fluffy blonde hair. You swooned every time JJ laughed and smiled because you loved seeing him happy. You were turned on every time JJ stood up for one of your friends, threatening to fight whoever it was that was bothering them, even if it was an uptight Kook. You were silently heartbroken every time JJ told you and his friends about his sexcapade from the previous night.  You were concerned and personally infuriated when JJ would come to the Chateau with new sets of bruises without telling you where they came from because that little voice inside your head told you exactly where they were from. 

You loved him, and you hated that you loved him. 

But this was for the best. At least thats what you told yourself.

Kie didn’t agree though. She found you in your room the next day, ready to apologize for stranding you on a boat with JJ, but it just ended in another screaming match when you told her what happened. 

“So just like that? You’re gonna leave?” She yelled. 

“I can’t do it anymore, Kie! He doesn’t want me there, and I am so sick and tired of trying to get him to like me.”

“What about John B and Pope? What about me? You’re our friend too!”

“We can still hangout -”

“Without JJ? That’s so unfair!”

“He hates me, Kie! How would you like it if I forced you to hang out with Sarah Cameron, huh?”

“That’s not the same.”

“Its the exact fucking same, and you know it!”

Kie ended up storming out of your room, neither one of you feeling any sort of peace or satisfaction with your decision. You haven’t talked to her since, and you contemplated calling her every day. 

But you never do.

The alarm you set on your phone blared in your ear from the pillow next to your head - a reminder that you needed to leave to pick up your father. You slapped the touch screen of your phone until the stupid alarm turned off. The last place you wanted to be was anywhere outside of your room. The thought of being with you father, the man you continued to blame for all your problems, filled you with self-hatred. You hated how easily he was able to manipulate you to help him, making you and your mother out to be the bad guys. He used Andrew’s wealth as a guilt trip for you, saying that since you didn’t do anything to deserve his money, the least you could do was help him out because you and your mother left him with absolutely nothing. And you fall for it. You fall for it every single time because he says you use to be daddy’s little girl - that he had big plans for the two of you when you were old enough to learn life’s pleasures. Little did you know his biggest life pleasures had always been drugs, alcohol, and gambling.

You tied your hair up in a messy bun and bounced down the stairs. Swiftly, grabbing the car keys to your new Mercedes Andrew bought you for your sixteenth birthday, you sped walked past your little sister who tried showing you a new trick that she taught your maltese puppy.

“Look, Y/N/N!”

“Not now, Gracie,” You huffed. 

As you drove through the Cut, you couldn’t help but keep a lookout for your Pogues.  You tried not to slam on the brakes every time you caught a glimpse of blonde hair or swerve when you saw a guy John B’s height carrying a surfboard. 

You honked your horn twice when you pulled up to your dad’s shitty apartment. After no longer being able to pay his mortgage after your mom left him, he had no choice but to move into the cheapest apartment in OBX. He always tried telling you that was your fault too. 

A few minutes later, he walked out, looking like he hasn’t showered in days or knows how to change his socks.

He slid into the passenger seat with a grunt, barely passing you a second glance. “You’re late.” He said. 

You stayed quiet, knowing that anything you said would only piss him off even more since you weren’t in the mood to put up with his antics.

You drove him to his drug dealer’s house, parking outside of the one story home that looked like it was rotting from the inside out. Your dad made you take him here a couple times. Every time you stayed in the car. But today, your father had something different planned.

“Come on,” He said.

“What?” You looked at him with your brows pinched together in confusion. 

“I need you inside.”

“No, no, no, no. That wasn’t the deal.”

“Well it is now, so let’s go.” His voice was stern through his clenched teeth, his eyes unblinking. You stared at him for a long second, debating whether fighting with him was worth it. 

Without another word, you reluctantly opened your door and followed your dad into the house. It smelled like B.O and marijuanna, just like how you pictured a frat house would. Pots, pans, and plates were filled to the brim of the sink. A moldy meal that looked a couple days old sat at the round table tucked in the corner. 

Your dad lead you into the living room where three other men were sitting. Well two men and one boy you recognized immediately. You swallowed your nerves as they all turned to look at your dad, then you.

“What’d you bring me, today, Jerry?” The guy with the long black hair tied in a low bun looked at you like you were fresh meat. 

You took a small step closer to your dad, ironically looking at him for some kind of protection. You didn’t trust any of these men in this room. You didn’t care if they were your father’s friends. They were men who made poor life choices and you didn’t know how far they could take it.

You looked over at Rafe Cameron, who compared to these guys, looked like a lost kid in a carnival. He was sporting a black eye and jaw. He looked both shocked and scared to see you here, probably worried that you would torment his reputation by letting everyone know how he really spends his weekdays when he’s not partying on his daddy’s boat. Little did he know, he had just enough blackmail to use against you too. 

“This is my daughter, Y/N,” Your dad introduced you. “Y/N, this is Barry.”

Barry looked you up and down and smirked. “You look like you a part of Country Club’s world.” By the way he was pointing his thumb back at the Kook, you figured that was his nickname for Rafe.

“She is,” Your father answered for you. “Remember when you said you didn’t trust me to come up with enough money to pay you back for my blow? This is proof that I got it. That I’ll always have it.”

Bile rose up your throat and your heart twisted in your chest. Is this how your dad thought of you? An open wallet? 

Of course it is, you thought. 

Barry nodded, impressed that someone like you came from a man like your father. “Well, take a seat. Can I offer you anything? Beer? Soda? Maybe a whiff?” He pointed to the white line on his clear coffee table.

“No. Thank you.” You said slowly before looking up at your father. “I didn’t bring any cash...”

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I paid out this time - used the check you sent me for my water bill. But now Barry knows he can trust me with his shit - that I wasn’t lying about you.”

“Maybe you can help Country Club pass my shit around. You’ll get a nice discount if you do...and maybe something else,” Barry looked at you suggestively. 

“Don’t scare her off, dude, she just got here.” The other man said. He extended his arm out for you to shake his hand. “I’m Luke Maybank.”

In that moment, it felt like the whole world stopped turning. You stared at the man in front of you, drinking in all his features and matching them to JJ’s. Same blue eyes, sharp jaw line, and a perfect nose. You looked down at his hand as you hesitantly shook it. Dirty, dry, scuffed. You remembered the days and nights that JJ would limp into the Chateau. He would blame it on the Kooks but the details in his story never stuck, like he couldn’t remember them with each person he told.

“Maybank?” You repeated.

“Yeah,” He narrowed his eyes. “Do I know you?”

“I was friends with your son.” Just like that, you went from being nervous to being angry. You hated this man more than you’re own father. JJ didn’t deserve the beatings and the abuse from the man in front of you. He was nothing but a deadbeat dad who didn’t know how good his son really was to him. 

“I would have remembered a pretty face like yours.”

“He never brought me around your house,” You looked at Luke Maybank from his shoes to his face. He was wearing jeans with dirt stains on them, a fitted white tank underneath a grey and blue flannel that was ripped by the cuffs around his wrists. The bags under his eyes were as dark as the bruise on Rafe’s face and his chin was in need of a shave. “Wonder why.” You couldn’t stop the sarcasm that dripped from your tongue.

You wished you could say more, or spit in his face, or kick him where it hurts. You weren’t afraid of what would happen to you, but how he would take it out on JJ if you did.

You looked up at your dad. “I’ll wait in the car.”

You quickly walked out of the house, immediately taking in a deep breath of fresh air. Before you could hide away in the front seat of your car, Rafe called out for you to stop.

You turned, only because you didn’t know what he wanted.

“What?” You said.

“Tell your boys this isn’t over. They’re not going to get away with -”

“I’m sorry. What are you talking about?”

“The Pogues. They sunk Topper’s 2020 Malibu, 24-MXC.”

At least now you have an idea as to where his bruises came from. “Is that suppose to mean something to me?”

Rafe smirked. “I forgot. You’re not a natural born Kook.”

“And yet you and I are standing in the same douchebag’s yard. What a coincidence.”

Rafe sneered at you. If this were a cartoon, steam would be coming out of his ears. “Just tell them.”

When Rafe turned to walk back into Barry’s home, you called out to him. “How do you know it was them?” Rafe turned around. “What’s your proof?” He didn’t answer immediately, and you watched him wrack his brain for some bullshit lie, which gave you all the answers you needed. “I’m guessing there isn’t any but you think it was them because you gave them a good reason to sink Topper’s 2020 Mailbu, 24-MXC. A boat I know is the finest wake setter and number one in luxury, quality, and performance.” The only reason you knew that was because JJ would say it every time Topper and Sarah would cruise by you on the HMS Pogue, and the look on Rafe’s face made it worth every second having to listen to JJ repeat that almost every week.

If Rafe wanted to respond, he couldn’t, because your dad was now walking towards you with a mean mug on his face.

Before you could say anything, the back of your dad’s hand whipped you across the face. His wedding ring, the one he refused to take off for eighteen years, caught on the corner of your mouth, splitting your bottom lip.

Rafe jumped back, startled, and you bit back a scream. Your thumb skimmed over your lip, blood coating your finger. 

“Don’t embarrass me like that again. Got it?” You dad glared down at you.

“Sir...” Rafe’s voice shook with unease. If you weren’t silently shaking with shame, you would have been surprised that Rafe even said anything at all. 

“Trust me, kid. You don’t wanna get in between a quarrel between a dad and their kid,” Luke Maybank smirked as he made his way to his own truck that was parked in front of yours. 

You glared at the back window of the car, now shaking with both shame and anger. You knew there was nothing else you could do to change the way Luke treated his son. You knew you couldn’t stop him from hurting JJ. 

But it shouldn’t matter. Because JJ wasn’t your problem anymore.

                                                  ***************

The next morning your mom made you run her errands for her. A trip to the Cleaners to pick up Andrew’s suits, the pet store for dog food and treats, and lastly to Heyward's because, according to Gracie, he sells the best hot dogs she’s ever had. 

You were trembling with nerves as you stalked through the aisles. You kept your head down, focusing on finding everything on your mother’s list as quickly as possible so you could get the hell out of there. When you went to check out, Mr. Heyward studied you but didn’t say anything. Lord knows what Pope told him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he charged you extra just to make a point. 

“Thank you,” You said as he handed you the brown paper bag. 

He nodded silently. 

As you walked out of the store, you’re faced with three out of your four friends that you dreaded seeing. They were huddled together, whispering and bickering about something. When they heard the bell above the door chime, they all looked up at you. The four of you stood there like you had all just gone brain dead. Your mouth dried up and you forgot how to speak. 

Pope looked surprised to see you, like a ghost he wasn’t expecting to see. Kie looked glum, and you remembered your last conversation. You didn’t know what you were now. You couldn’t read JJ’s expression. His eyes are casted down on your face. He was staring at your lips. Your beautiful soft pink lips he’s dreamt about kissing for years. Now they were tainted and he was dying to know how, so he could wrap his hands around that bastard’s neck and set him straight. 

“Hi...” You said softly. You didn’t know what else to say. 

No one else had a chance to speak because the piercing noise of a police siren cut through the awkward tension. Officer Shoupe got out of his car and started approaching Pope of all people. 

"Morning Officer,” Pope said nervously.

Shoupe acted like he didn’t hear him. “I have an arrest warrant for felony of destruction of property.”

You instantly thought back to what Rafe said to you yesterday. Topper’s boat. How they’re not going to get away with it. 

You watched Shoupe with wide eyes as he told Pope to put his hands up. “Hands where I can see them.” Kie tried blocking Shoupe from getting any closer to Pope. “Young lady, out of my way.”

Heyward walked out of his shop when he heard the commotion. “You arresting my boy?”

Shoupe didn’t answer and forcefully pulled Pope’s hands behind his back. 

“Be careful!” Kie screamed at him. 

Everyone started screaming at Shoupe, trying to get him away from the boy who didn’t deserve this. Pope had a future ahead of him. One that didn’t involve relying on his parents money to get. He was a hard worker, stayed out of trouble, and even had a scholarship interview in a couple weeks that will be his one way ticket off this island. He couldn’t go to jail. It would ruin him. 

Your head started ringing as the people in front of you moved in slow motion. Rafe’s words repeated in your head - more importantly the words he didn’t say. He hesitated when you asked how they knew it was your friends. Because he didn’t know for sure. 

“Stop!” You screamed louder than anyone else, causing everyone to pause in their movements. Your friends looked at you with wide eyes and Shoupe narrowed his in suspicion. “Pope didn’t do it.” You couldn’t stop yourself from doing what you were about to do, but you knew it was better than Pope getting pushed down to the station. “I did it.”

“Y/N...” JJ started to say softly, but you cut him off. 

“You’re here for the Thornton’s sunken boat, right?” You continued, knowing that if you proved with some details that you were there, Shoupe would have no choice but to take you instead of Pope. “Pope didn’t do it. He wasn’t even with me when I did it.”

Shoupe shook his head. “Y/N, you don’t want to cover for -”

“I’m not covering. I was sick and tired of Topper and his friends always taking advantage of my friends, who do nothing but work their asses off to make sure families like mine can prop their perfectly painted toes up on some beach chairs and do nothing but lay in the sun all day. So I hit Topper where it hurt with something so replaceable as a boat because I know money is all that matters to that family.”

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” JJ said through clenched teeth. 

You shrugged. “What? I’m just telling the truth.” You took a deep breath and glanced at JJ one last time before focusing back on Shoupe. “You know my dad, Shoupe. And you know I’m not talking about Andrew. I mean, my real dad.” 

You tried to act like you didn’t just spill your biggest secret to really sell your story. You pretended like the eyes of all your friends weren’t burning holes in your head. 

Shoupe used to be the officer that would frequently visit your home when you lived with your dad. Neighbors would call the cops on your family a lot because the screaming got to be too much. Without your mom pressing charges, there was nothing he could do. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know your dad,” Shoupe said softly, like he felt sorry for you that he knew exactly what you were talking about. 

“I guess I inherited his temper.”

“What?” Kie’s voice broke and tears started cascading down her cheeks. You forced yourself not to look at her. 

“I know you don’t have any proof that Pope did it. There’s no cameras posted around the Thornton’s dock.” You knew that because Sarah made you hang out with their friends a couple of times on that boat. “And there were no witnesses.” You were banking on Rafe’s reaction for this one. “So I’m guessing the Thornton’s, most likely the Mrs., paid you or something to make the arrest. But I don’t think the Sheriff would appreciate you taking someone who you have no evidence against in instead of someone confessing to the crime right to your face.”

You didn’t blink when you stared Officer Shoupe down, challenging him to go against you and fight his way to Pope. But both of you knew he couldn’t take Pope after this. 

“Is this true?” Shoupe looked at Pope.

“Yes -”

“Not you! I’m asking Pope,” Shoupe snapped, glaring at you. You knew you just ruined his entire day. 

Pope looked at you for some kind of answer. You tried subtly nodding your head, telling him it’s okay to agree. You wanted him to say it was true. 

You didn’t know what was coming next for you, but you knew you could handle it. You didn’t know if Pope could.

“Yes, sir,” Pope said.

JJ felt like he was punched in the gut. He didn’t want Pope to go to jail, but he sure as hell didn’t want you going there either. He wanted to tell you he was sorry, that he was an idiot, that he tried not to love you but failed. He knew he treated you like shit and he pushed you away. Yet here you were, still taking bullets for each of them. 

Shoupe nodded and began reading your Miranda Rights. You handed Heyward your groceries and said, “I’ll have someone pick these up.”

“Wait!” JJ tried calling out to you as Shoupe helped you into the back seat of his car. “Wait! No!”

You kept your head down as Shoupe drove away, only looking up when you knew you were at least a mile away from your friends. 

As Shoupe closed the door to a room where you were to wait to be interrogated, you smiled to yourself. Your mom was going to be pissed, you were about to get in a shit load of trouble, and the Pogues still may never talk to you again, but you knew you just saved Pope’s entire future - the one he deserved more than anything. 

And you were proud of yourself for that.

                                                   ***************

Of course Mrs. Thornton didn’t want you to go to jail. She wanted about $30,000 of restitution money to make up for it. You rolled your eyes when you heard that. All that family cares about is money. You knew she probably didn’t even care about the boat in the first place. 

Your mom screamed at you the entire ride back to your house. She took your phone and TV away and threatened to homeschool you for the next school year. Your mom was strict but her punishments never lasted long. She usually caved somewhere in the first week. You think its because she thinks your childhood was punishment enough and that behavior like this was to be expected because of it. You tried not to get that mentality stuck in your head, but sometimes you could get yourself into some trouble here and there. 

Another part of your punishment was to do the yard work around the house. Andrew had already written you a list by the time your mom forced you to wake up at 6 a.m.

You couldn’t even be mad at the punishment. Mulching the yard was the least you could do. Andrew even planned on paying the Thornton’s back if you worked for him for free the rest of the summer. 

It was about mid morning when a car pulled up your driveway. You felt like the wind was just knocked out of you when you noticed the junky Volkswagen van park. 

JJ hopped out of the Twinkie and walked in your direction. You didn’t know what to do. Were you supposed to say hi and pretend like nothing ever happened between you two? Would you go back to bickering? You looked down at your body and was mortified at what you were wearing. Although it was only some black leggings and a white tank top, you were covered in dirt and sweat, and reeked of cow manure, which you knew was what mulch was made out of. 

You tried pushing away the butterflies that swarmed your stomach when JJ stood next to you. You turned to look at him, unsure of what to say. You hated that he had this effect on you. Usually you were quick witted and were able force any kind of small talk. I mean, you were a Kook now after all. But this felt different. You didn’t want to have small talk with JJ. You wanted to really know him. His past, his now, his future. You didn’t want to be tongue tied. 

“Hey,” He said softly.

“Hi,” You wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your gloved hand. You glanced back at the van, waiting for one of your other friends to appear. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren't answering your phone and I got worried,” JJ sheepishly tucked his hand in his pockets and had a hard time of meeting your eyes. 

Ever since you mentioned a dad with a bad temper, JJ couldn’t stop thinking the worst for you. When you weren’t answering your phone, he wondered if he had done something to hurt you. The thought made him so sick with anxiety, he drove to your house to make sure you were all right.

“Yeah, my mom took my phone away. Turns out she doesn’t like it when her daughter gets arrested.” You tried to joke. “Why were you worried?”

JJ finally looked at you again. “What happened to your lip?”

You coughed from the unexpected question. You reactively bit your bottom lip and looked away. “I uh, fell on Sarah’s boat the other day.”

“Y/N...” JJ said softly and touched your elbow to make you look at him. 

“What, JJ?” You snapped, turning to look at him with a glare. He probably put two and two together the second you mentioned your dad yesterday in front of him. Just like you did when you met Luke Maybank. You hated that you had this in common with the blonde Pogue, but you also knew he could be someone you could confide in, which is something you never had. “Why do you care? Just because you know about my dad now doesn’t make us friends.”

“I was wrong, okay? I was wrong about you, Y/N.”

You scoffed, “I have an asshole for a dad, JJ. Nothing else has changed.”

“I was the biggest dick to you. You tried every day to be my friend and I pushed you away. And I’m sorry. The truth is, I don’t like change and I don’t trust people because my dad -” JJ paused and looked away towards the road, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Because your dad’s just like my dad,” You said, making his head snap back to you. “I met your dad the other. It turns out they have the same drug dealer.”

“You met my dad?” JJ’s eyes went wide.

“Yeah.”

“Did you...”

“I didn’t say anything other than how we use to be friends. But trust me, there was a hell of a lot more I wanted to say.”

JJ nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, you were right. I didn’t take the chance to get to know you because I was afraid that I would like you a lot more than I wanted to, and then you would realize you were too good for us...for me. So I pushed you away. I tried hating you so you would hate me too. But truth is, I never hated you. I could never hate you. You’re smart, funny, kind, beautiful...” Your eyes flickered up to meet his and you noticed a pink hue running up his neck, which probably matched the one on your cheeks. “I’ve always thought that. And I don’t care about where you came from. You could have been born and raised a Kook or you could have been homeless your entire life. Nothing could ever change my opinion of you. I like you, Y/N. And I miss you. The Pogues miss you and they hate me and I hate me too because I drove you away. And I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t tell if this was a dream or not, but you weren’t going to mess this up, even if it was a dream. Because JJ was standing in front of you, telling you he missed you and that he wanted you back with him and his friends, and you’d be a fool not to take him up on that because you missed them too and you were miserable without them.

“I miss you too, JJ.”

JJ smile grew wide at your words and for a second, you thought he was going to jump up and down and cheer. “Really? You don’t hate me?”

You shook your head. “I never hated you, JJ. I never could.”

“You should.”

“No. I shouldn’t. I get why you didn’t want me around. I’m a Kook now and I was being shady when I tried hiding my dad from the rest of you. You were just protecting your friends.”

“Turned out they weren’t the ones who needed protecting,” JJ said softly.

You shook your head. “I don’t need protecting.”

“Why do you still see him if you live here now?”

“It’s complicated.”

JJ reluctantly nodded. He hated that this was a part of your life he couldn't exert himself into just yet. He had to earn that. He needed you to trust him first before you let him into such a vulnerable part of your life. But he understood that. He understood that more than anybody. 

But he was going to make sure John B kept his eyes on you. JJ knew you two were close.

“I won’t push you to tell me. But you can talk to me about it. I won’t judge you.”

“Thanks, JJ,” You said graciously. People say that all the time. You can talk to me. For the most part you never believe them. You think its just something people say to make them sound sincere. But with JJ it was different. You believed every word.

“Just promise me if you see him again to take someone with you. Like John B or something.”

“Okay,” You said. You didn’t know if you meant it because all you could think about was that JJ cared enough about you to be worried. 

“Okay...” JJ said awkwardly. “So we’re good? Friends?”

Your heart cracked at the ‘F’ word but you knew you were crazy to hope for anything else. You were lucky enough to even get called a friend. You bit down on your bottom lip as your grinned and nodded. “Friends.”

“Good,” JJ nodded. “So, I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay...” JJ clapped his hands in front of him nervously. “Good. Then I’m just gonna...”

“Yeah, I should probably get back to...” You pointed back to the mulch.

“Bye, Sassy.”

You turned back to the mulch in your wheelbarrow and bit back the urge to squeal in delight, at least until the van pulled out of your driveway again. 

“Actually you know what?” JJ said, making you turn around. He was walking back over to you with a determined look on his face. “Screw friends.” 

“What -”

Before you could process what was happening, JJ cupped your cheeks and smashed his lips against yours. You instantly kissed him back and pulled him closer to you by fisting your hands into his shirt. The butterflies in your body transformed into a stampeded and your heart was hammering against your rib cage. 

You’ve kissed so many other guys before, but this one felt different. There was a passion behind this one - a meaning that felt so deep it could only be explained through actions. Kissing JJ felt right, like you had done this hundreds of times before. 

JJ pulled away first and rested his forehead against yours, his eyes trained on your swollen lips. His breath hit your face and your legs went weak in the knees. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for about two years.” He said.

“What took you so long?” You said, your eye lashes fluttered up to look at him.

“I didn’t know what I had until it was gone,” JJ said, looking up at you. He pulled away to look you in the eyes. “I love you, Y/N. And I understand if you don’t feel the same way but - “

You pulled him in for another kiss as fireworks exploded in your head. You didn’t want to let go of this moment. You couldn't believe that everything you wanted was happening.

“I love you too.”

JJ’s eyes lit up like lights on a Christmas tree as did his smile that widened with each second. He picked you up by your waist and spun you around. You giggled above him and beamed down at him. You’ve never felt this happy in your entire life.

When he set you down, he kissed you again. “Say it again.”

You pulled him in close enough for your faces to be nose to nose. “I. Love. You. JJ Maybank.”

JJ shook his head and chuckled. “Unbelievable.”

He kissed you again, and you didn’t care if you didn’t get the yard work done in time because you fulfilled your duty as a Kook. You officially have everything you could ever want. 

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tags: @allycat449-blog @zarahsloves

[leiawritesstories]

Speak To My Heart

Rowaelin Month, Day 15: A bad day

Word count: 3422

Warnings: language, bit of depression, fighting. In short, there is angst in this fic. Hope the ending makes up for the rest.

Linguistics and foreign languages are two of my personal passions, so please bear with the bits of language talk that I couldn’t resist including. Brief word of clarification: a lot of expressions we use in English either translate into something extremely rude or don’t make sense in other languages. Translation companies have been trying for quite some time to make sure they don’t accidentally send a client a translated instruction manual that reads “fuck your mother” instead of “for questions, contact your local energy department.” All right I’ll get off my soapbox. :)

The phrases in foreign languages, marked with *, are translated into English at the end. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan’s day had been shit. The second he walked through the door, he’d been bombarded with an endless slew of crash reports, malfunctioning equipment, faulty passwords, and best of all, having to rewrite half the security firewalls because one of the rash young idiots in his department couldn’t be bothered to check his work for errors before sending it to management. And management thought it was the department boss’s job to fix all of his employees’ fuckups.

He hated IT.

Even more so since being promoted to department chair. 

All he wanted to do was the fun stuff--program design and development, fixing the flaws in his own designs, and of course making those who tried to break into his company’s systems regret their pitiful existence. But Cadre Tech’s bitch of a CEO refused to let the best software engineer on her staff actually do his job. 

Most days, he could cope with the pile of useless shit she directed to his desk. Most days. Today was not one of those days. Probably because on top of all the meaningless tasks he’d had to field, he was also forced to sit through one of Maeve’s bullshit “department head strategy sessions,” where every department chair had to pretend they gave a single shit about any word coming from their CEO’s garishly red, pinched mouth. 

As if she knew anything her staff actually did. 

Thanks to the compulsory meeting, Rowan was stuck in his office at nearly ten o’clock, painstakingly combing through the final draft of the update to CT’s translation program. This program had shot the company to fame and fortune, or at least insane stock value. “A Google Translate that actually translates,” their marketing department called it, and by the gods, that stupid slogan worked. And made sense. Rowan knew the program was just as good as it claimed to be.

He’d put in the hours, alongside a team of linguists, software engineers, designers, and people fluent in at least one other language. Frequent were the sessions where the project whiteboard turned into a jumble of words in twenty or more languages, Spanish alongside Arabic next to a column of simplified Japanese characters spilling over into a row of Cyrillic lettering. Rowan himself spoke German and some Spanish, but even he was lost amid the cacophony of eighteen different people switching from language to language, trying to figure out how idiomatic expressions translated from one language to another and what words should never, ever be placed together. 

It took the team well over a year of bickering, or as they called it, friendly linguistic disagreements, to make it from loosely mapped concept to functioning program. By the time it hit the market three years ago, the software had been so well promoted that companies all over the world snapped up their chance to finally communicate properly with the client they’d offended years ago with a bad translation. 

At launch, of course, Maeve stood in front of a sea of shouting reporters brandishing microphones, smiling her serpentine smile, and proceeded to thank the creative team for all their “contributions” before taking all the credit herself. 

Said creative team went to the bar that had become their usual gathering spot that night to get drunk and shit-talk their horrible boss, not necessarily in that order. 

His favorite memory of that night was hearing the chief linguist, an outside contract with multiple advanced degrees who spoke eight separate languages besides English fluently, refer to Maeve as “quella puttana rugosa che non riusciva a convincere un cazzo a venire a dieci metri da lei se si vestiva da figa.*” The Italian speakers on the team were crying with laughter, and so was everyone else, once she translated it.

And then she downed another shot of vodka and hissed something that sounded like “sukya bliyad, no puedo mich betrinken con esta ordures.**” When everyone blinked in confusion, she sighed and relayed the sentiment in English. 

Nobody had laughed as hard as Rowan. Aelin Galathynius just had that effect on him.

She brightened his darkest days.

But she couldn’t ease the strain of today.

And it was all his fault.

~

Aelin glanced up at the clock on her wall and cursed in three different languages when she saw that it was nearly eleven. Without meaning to, she’d spent all afternoon and evening writing lesson notes on idiomatic expressions. She really couldn’t help herself once she got into the topic; it was her pet project.

And the subject of one of her dissertations. Yes, she had multiple. 

She’d worked her ass off for years to get through college, then through graduate and doctoral work while teaching at universities to offset costs, then earned a full-time teaching position at one of the top-ranked universities in the world. She got to teach linguistics, her lifetime love, and give guest lectures at other universities and at conferences, teaching people all over the world about the complexities and interrelatedness of language. Hell, she spoke ten; she’d be qualified to speak on linguistic relationships by virtue of that alone.

Gods, she was the chief linguist behind the most successful translation software ever produced. Even if the bitch who owned the rights to said software had literally threatened to sue over ownership rights if any of the people who’d poured their figurative blood and sweat and literal tears into building the program tried to claim a small piece of the credit each of them so richly deserved. 

That software and her role in its creation--even though Maeve Ond had claimed the public credit, the creative team spoke at interviews and made news features for their work in Cadre Tech’s massive success--had solidified her credentials as a professor of linguistics, had boosted her into her lecturer spot.

Last year, her university granted her tenure. 

She should have been overjoyed, and she was, but not as much as earning tenure deserved. 

Because there was nobody to share her joy.

Three years ago, in the wake of CT’s overnight jump to worldwide fame, Aelin fled a love she did not and never would deserve. 

She told herself she would never look back. But she did. Almost every day, she looked back at the life she’d shared with Rowan and tried to convince herself that she did the right thing.

Try as she might, she could never silence the whisper that echoed always in her mind. 

“You broke both of your hearts” 

Someday, she told herself, someday she would be back in Doranelle. Someday, she would have a chance to apologize. Someday, maybe she could fix the Rowan-shaped chasm that gaped wide in her heart. 

Yet here she was, sitting in a very nicely appointed hotel room in the university district of Doranelle, typing furiously away as if burying herself in notes and prep for tomorrow’s lecture could make the urge to contact Rowan disappear.

~

Three years earlier. Doranelle.

“Knock, knock.”

Rowan’s head jerked up from where it had most definitely not been slumped on his desk. “Wha--Oh. Hi, Aelin.”

“You’re falling asleep, buzzard, let’s go home.” He heard laughter in her soft voice. 

“As if you won’t just get home and start cross-checking every single one of the phrases on your ‘potential problem’ list.”

She chuckled, walking over to him. “Fine. We’re both perfectionist work whores. Doesn’t mean we don’t need sleep.”

“I know you too well to believe you’re actually going to sleep.”

“All right, you win. Come home now, I’ll make some food, and you can put me to bed.” She winked saucily at him, leaving very little doubt what putting her to bed would entail, and he was up out of his chair in seconds. 

“Hand over your computer, Fireheart,” he grinned as they walked into the small house they shared on the outskirts of the city. 

“What?”

“Your computer, love. I’m leaving both of our work bags on the shelf by the front door so we can actually catch some rest tonight.” He pressed a finger to her mouth to silence her protests. “Uh-uh, Ae, we have interviews tomorrow and I won’t let the genius behind this program’s flawless word-to-word be anything but well-rested.”

She sighed, but he saw the love in her eyes. “Here, then, my dear brilliant software engineer. Leave your notebook, too, because I know if it’s anywhere near you, you’ll be up at three in the morning scribbling blocks of gibberish and picking apart your faultless code until you go insane.”

Both of their work satisfactorily put aside, Aelin made good on her promise to cook Rowan dinner. 

And then he made very good on his promise to put her to bed. 

The next morning, they were both awake with the sunrise, content to lay curled in each other’s arms as the morning light spread across their room.

Rowan drifted back into sleep, waking for good when he caught a whiff of coffee from the kitchen’s direction. 

“Morning, you sleepy buzzard,” Aelin grinned, sipping from her mug.

Rowan dropped a kiss on her head as he reached for his mug. He took a long drink, sighing as the milky, sweetened caffeine hit his mouth. 

“I will never understand how you drink your coffee black, Fireheart.”

“Not all of us need to sweeten the hell out of coffee to drink it, Ro. Maybe if you can’t handle the real thing, you should go back to your pretty little cups of crappy cafe tea.”

“Mention my pretty little teacups again, Ae…”

She giggled. “You be quiet and drink your coffee-flavored milk, my love.  We both know you’re impossibly grumpy until you have caffeine in your veins.”

He grumbled something unintelligible as he drank his coffee.

They were nearly late to work that morning, even having planned an extra half hour to arrive, thanks to Aelin wearing what Rowan dubbed her “sexy professor suit.” She fixed the pins in her French twist in the car, making herself once again a portrait of professionalism, and slipped Rowan’s hand from her leg.

“Two hands on the wheel, Whitethorn.”

He pouted. “But I’m a safe driver and I want to hold your hand.”

“My hands are over here, love, not down by my skirt.”

When he pulled into his spot, Aelin closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath. 

“You good, Fireheart?”

Gods, she loved hearing him call her that. “Yeah. I just…needed a moment to settle myself. To tell myself the cameras aren’t here to tear apart what I say.”

Rowan wrapped his hands around hers. “Dr. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the bland reporters are here to stand in awe of your expertise. Not a single word you say will come across as anything but brilliant and beautifully said.”

She squeezed his hands, her usual confidence returning. “I love you, buzzard.”

“I love you too, Fireheart. Let’s go talk about our amazing achievement.”

The day sped by in a blur of reporters, interviewers, teleprompters, practiced speeches, lights, cameras, and crew. When the last bleached-blonde anchor of the last interview of the day cut her crew’s cameras, Aelin flopped against her second-in-linguistic-command, Dr. Nehemia Ytger, the expert on ethnic African languages. 

“If I never see a news crew again, it’ll be too soon,” she sighed. “I’m beat.”

Nehemia snickered. “But we’re done talking about how proud we are that Maeve and her marvelous company have done such a grand service to the world.”

Aelin snorted softly. “Right. And now we servicepeople want to go home and take off our heels.”

“Amen to that.”

As the team filed out of the studio, Rowan made his way over to Aelin. “Holding up?”

“Not anymore,” she said, leaning casually into his side. “My heels are killing me, there’s a hairpin stabbing into my scalp, and I really, really need to pee.”

Rowan laughed, deep and husky. “Let’s get you home, then.”

“I’m stopping in the bathroom first.”

Just before she left the ladies’ room, Aelin heard voices in the break area. Familiar voices--Rowan’s, Maeve’s, and the snippy, borderline whiny tones of Remelle Frelau, who worked in the marketing department and had a hell of a boner for Rowan. 

“--looking at revenue over--” Maeve’s voice cut out, but from the gasps of the other two, the revenue was through the roof. 

“And it’s all thanks to this genius here,” drawled Remelle, who if Aelin had her guess was probably clinging onto Rowan like a platinum-blonde leech. 

“Ms. Frelau, this was the product of a team. No single person could possibly have made it happen alone.”

“Oh, call me Remelle, or even better Remy. And you’re the team leader, so you practically did create it by yourself.”

Aelin snickered to herself. Vapid bitch had no idea what she was saying. 

“That’s not how teams work, Ms. Frelau. We wouldn’t be here without Dr. Galathynius and Dr. Ytger’s language expertise, not to mention the creative genius of the engineers, graphic designers, linguists, and programmers.”

“Ms. Frelau, though her judgment is clearly biased, has a point, Mr. Whitethorn,” Mave said. “You demonstrated remarkable collaborative leadership qualities throughout this project, and I fully expect that you will continue to do so.” Maeve’s heels clicked away. Rowan’s voice followed her.

“Thank you, Ms. Ond, but I have to credit Dr. Galathynius--”

“Will you stop kissing that woman’s ass?” snorted Remelle. “Gods, she’s not worth your time or your praise; all she does is translate words into different languages and you idiots drool over that like it means anything.”

Aelin jerked like she’d been slapped. She knew Remelle was a self-centered, shallow, spiteful bitch, but she hadn’t known she would do this.

“--did more for this project than you and your useless whiteboard of catchphrases,” growled Rowan. 

“I don’t care what she ‘did for the project,’ Rowan, she’s never going to be good enough for you.”

“Thank you for caring about my welfare, Frelau, now please kindly fuck off.”

Aelin chose that moment to saunter out of the bathroom and head straight for Rowan, her face showing no hint of having heard that conversation. She did note with satisfaction Remelle’s vain attempt to march out of the room with some semblance of dignity. Too bad her heel caught on the seam of the hallway carpet and the break room’s tile flooring and she had to grab the doorframe to keep from collapsing. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Aelin.”

“Just thinking. Processing, really. It’s been a hell of a day.”

Rowan nodded. “I bet.”

“And hearing fucking Remelle rip into me for being useless…didn’t make it better.”

“Shit, you heard that?”

“Yeah. I heard that.” Her voice was hollow. 

Rowan pulled into their driveway and shut off the engine. Reaching across the console, he cupped Aelin’s face in his hands. “Aelin. You are brilliant. You are terrifyingly smart. You are a force of nature. Nothing, nothing you will ever do is useless. Don’t let that jealous bitch make you think you are less than the perfect woman.”

She smiled tentatively at him. “She…she told me before that last interview that I could never be enough for you. Because you--because of Lyria.”

Rowan raked a hand through his hair. “Ae, can we talk about this inside?”

That night, he told her about his former fiancé, Lyria. He told her about their whirlwind romance, their youthful dreams. He told her about the horrific crash that stole away Lyria’s life. A drunk trucker, a narrow pass in the mountains. He showed her the box in which he kept all the memories of that life. He cried. Aelin cried. He curled against her, let her comfort him.

“Sometimes, I wish she was still here. She’d understand everything. She always did.”

Aelin had no response. She let Rowan fall asleep, his weight shifting off her and into his bed, and looked through the box. Everything she saw served as another reminder that this was the first woman he loved, the woman who understood everything. 

She was worthy of him. 

But was Aelin?

The more she looked at Rowan and Lyria’s happiness, the more the answer solidified. 

No.

When Rowan woke up the next morning, Lyria’s box sat on Aelin’s side of the bed, a side that had not held Aelin.

He glanced out the window.

Her car was gone.

He got up and frantically paced through the house.

Everything she’d brought into his home was gone.

As was she.

~

Present day. 

Rowan opened his front door mechanically, pulled off his shoes, dropped his work backpack on its shelf, and was halfway to his bedroom before he realized he’d just opened his front door. His front door that was always locked. 

Someone was in his house.

Someone who either had a duplicate key or insanely good lockpicking skills.

Exactly one person owned a duplicate key to his house.

Aelin.

That’s impossible, she lives in Orynth, she can’t be here, he told the traitorous part of his brain that leapt with joy at seeing Aelin’s face again.

He turned around and made his way through the kitchen--nobody there--to the living room. He flicked on a lamp, casting a soft light around the room.

And nearly had a heart attack.

Aelin Galathynius sat on his couch. 

For a moment, he just gawked at her. She looked so…different. Older. Gone was the infectious smile that had captured his heart. Dark shadows smeared under her eyes, testament both to the long hours she devoted to her work and to recent sleepless nights. She was twisting a ring on her right hand, a familiar sign of her nerves. From his angle, Rowan could see a hint of dark script on her wrist. A tattoo. The Aelin he knew didn’t have tattoos.

“I’m not a ghost.” Her voice, weary and hollow, broke the tense silence.

Rowan crossed the room, propped an arm on the fireplace. “Why?”

“Why am I here? Why did I leave? Why did I cut you out of my life?”

“Everything.” He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice, but his eyes burned into hers.

She took a steadying breath. “I’m here to apologize, first of all. I’m here to face what I ruined and to try and start mending it. I’m here to come to terms with everything I broke when I left three years ago.”

Whatever he’d expected her to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I’m sorry I left like that. I was…I was scared.”

“You can’t just run away from your fears, Aelin!” He couldn’t keep the frustration from his tone. “You can’t just abandon someone when you have a bad day!”

“I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have left! I know I can’t run from my fears; I’ve spent the last three years trying and fucking failing to do that! But I don’t know what else to do.”

“Saying something about it would have been a good first step.” 

“I’m bad at emotions, Rowan. I tried. It wasn’t enough.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse.”

Aelin flicked a tear from her face. “I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Rowan. I should never have left. I let some stupid comment root into my head and make me doubt myself. I made myself believe I would never be good enough for you. I left you. I loved you, and I still left you. I still love you, even though I’ve tried to suppress it. I can never make up for that. I…I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve regretted that horrible decision all these years. I want you to be happy, Rowan, I--”

“How am I supposed to be happy without a source?” He’d dropped onto the couch, close enough to touch her but still keeping his distance.

“What?”

“You didn’t just take yourself away, Aelin. You were my happiness. I’ve spent three fucking years trying to make myself believe I’m better without you in my life, and I can’t.”

She was unabashedly crying by that point. “What do you want me to do? How can I make up for abandoning you?”

“Stay.”

Her gaze locked onto his, both of their eyes pooling with tears.

“Stay with me, Fireheart.”

“But--”

“I never stopped loving you either.”

A choked sob ripped out of Aelin. Rowan couldn’t hold himself in check any longer; he reached out and tugged her gently into his arms. To his shock, she didn’t resist, burying her face into his chest as sobs shook her shoulders. When she calmed, he tilted her chin up.

“Will you stay, Aelin?”

“Yes. Even though I will never deserve your forgiveness, yes.”

~

Translations:

* = “that pinched old whore who couldn’t convince a dick to come within ten metres of her if she dressed up provocatively” (Italian)

** = loosely translated as “Fucking hell, I can’t get drunk off this garbage.” (in order, Russian (badly phonetically spelled out because Rowan POV), Spanish, German, Spanish again, French) (the Russian doesn’t directly translate, so it could mean several different variations of expletive)

~

Might there be a second part? Perhaps......

[midgardianweasley]

hi! welcome to fanfiction writing !!! could i request george weasley comforting the reader when she’s having a bad day/going through a sad time? (if you’re comfortable of course!) if not, i’ll be happy to request something else!🤍

Of course lovely!! here you go, I hope you like it <33

I’m here

George Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N is struggling with having a bad day. She doesn’t want to upset George so she tries to avoid him, but he doesn’t take no for an answer and reassures her that she doesn’t need to keep her feelings bottled up from him.

Warnings: flufff

Word Count: 1831 words

Message/ask if you want to be added to taglist <3 

Waking up this morning and getting ready this morning felt like a chore when finally getting around to it. Looking around to her clock, Y/N saw in the bright red numbers that it was ten to eight. ‘Seriously? I slept in?’ she thought to herself. Sleeping in was never a good start to the day. Before verbally making her empty dorm aware of how bothered she was by this with a string of complaints for no one else around to hear, she rushed around her room in a panic, chucking on clothes that looked relatively similar to her Hogwarts uniform, lacking care towards the fact her tie didn’t even look like a tie with the way it was barely hung around her neck and then sped down the stairs, hoping to catch something to eat before her first class. Walking into the great hall, she saw that there were a considerable number of students left, still quietly talking with their friends while some were trying their best to simply keep their eyes open, Y/N could relate.

Walking towards the Y/H table, she started picking at some of the food left out while trying to keep an eye out for a pair of familiar redheads to be wandering around, one of which was her boyfriend, George Weasley. She hadn’t seen them for the time she was in the great hall, somewhat expecting it due to knowing they can never stay in one place at a time for long, they were always off experimenting or pranking someone. However, although their energy levels were through the roof in the morning, something she can never match, she’d miss hearing them speak among themselves while she managed to wake herself with some orange juice, but it had to be the kind with bits in it, not having the same effect otherwise.

As Y/N walked through the halls towards her first class, she’d heard the twins before she saw them. Even among the hundreds of students rushing to their classes, she still managed to hear an uproar from the corner of the corridor.

“But, what if there was a way to make FIlch’s tongue just not fit in his mouth? Would like to hear him send us to McGonnogal then.”

“Like an enlargement charm, Fred?”

“Exactly George”

“Wicked.”

Y/N smiled, Instantly recognising the voices discussing their plans for their next prank, she began to walk towards them to say her good mornings, when their professor, Mr Flitwick, had told them to hurry in otherwise they were going to be late. Late? She thought she had another five minutes to get to her class. Realizing she had a minute, if that, to get to her herbology class, she started to run outside and down to the greenhouse where she could see Professor Sprout addressing the class, clearly having already started. Clumsily, she burst through the door, trying to catch her breathe and play it off as presentable, although, she wasn’t fooling anyone into believing she was fashionably late.

“Ah! Good morning Miss L/N, how lovely of you to finally join us.” Professor Sprout spoke, turning to face me, alongside the whole class who had turned their heads to see where the sudden noise had come from.

“I’m really sorry Professor, I thought-”

“Just hold back at the end of the lesson Miss L/N, we have a busy class prepared, we shouldn’t waste any time.”

Y/N nodded, sighing at the thought of holding up the class. This morning so far had been a disaster, and if she thought it couldn’t have gotten much worse, after putting her bag down and starting to prepare for the class, she looked up and caught eyes with none other than Cormac McLaggen, smirking at her and making some gesture towards her. ‘What is he doing?’ He started making it a bit more obvious, pointing out the fact that she had yet to tie her tie, which had looped and tangled itself less than gracefully around her neck. She rolled her eyes and started to fix her tie and hopefully rid herself of this unfortunate morning.

-Timeskip-

Being let off with a warning from Professor Sprout and having to drag herself up to Divination and listen to Trelawney talk about tea leaves, she’d finally managed to make it to lunch. She generally loved Divination, it was one of her favourite classes listening to Professor Trelawney talk about predictions and watching the likes of Lavender Brown hang onto her every word, today was just not the day, she was feeling like it was midnight, when in reality, it was only noon, she was already so tired. She walked back into the great hall, seeing as it was lunchtime and had quickly spotted George and Fred sitting at the Gryffindor table, quickly walking over to them and sat herself down next to George and opposite Fred and Lee Jordan.

“Hey Darling” George smiling at his girlfriend and putting his arm around her, slightly pulling her closer to his side.

“Hey Y/N, we never managed to catch you this morning, everything okay?” Fred asked while filling his plate with a bunch of different lunch assortments set out along the table. Y/N had considered telling them about her morning so far, but she’d seen how happy they looked, discussing products and plans, she didn’t want to put a dampener on their mood. Deciding against saying anything, she came up with a quick and easy response.

“Hey guys, yeah i’m sorry I didn’t manage to speak to you, I wanted to catch up on some reading for Divination before class started and we must’ve just missed each other” She spoke, pulling her lips into a tight smile, trying her best to convince them, hoping they’d accept it and proceed as normal. Fred and Lee gave a mix of “Don’t worry about it” and “We have a Library? Huh.” George, noticing the slight difference in her smile and the way she had kept quiet, decided to let it slide. Maybe she was just hungry and wanted to get on with eating, he thought. He started tracing little patterns on her forearm, making sure to keep an eye on her if she continued like this later on, wanting to help her if there were any problems troubling her, for now, he’d eat his lunch and just let her sit with them, not putting any pressure on her to speak.

As the day went on, Y/N found herself to becoming more and more irritable as the tiredness increased. Walking into DADA, Snape had asked her a simple question, a question that if he had asked any other day, she’d have got right, but not today. After DADA, she had a free period, she had decided to spend it in the Library, feeling her social battery quickly draining. She’d wanted to just crawl back into her bed and sleep today off, hoping tomorrow would be better, but she had been assigned a 4 page essay by Professor Sprout and although sleep was tempting, she’d rather feel somewhat productive today. She had been in her own little bubble until she’d heard a chair scrape slightly against the floor, earning a round of ‘shhh’s’ from the people around them. She looked up slightly after finishing the sentence she was on and saw her boyfriend smiling down at her.

“Hey bubs, what you up to?” He spoke quietly so to not earn some death glares while sitting down beside her.

“I’m just working on this essay for Herbology, it’s due next week but i’d wanted to get a start on it before leaving it last minute. What are you doing here? You’re not one to usually come to the Library?”

“Well, I can't help but feel slightly insulted by that Love, albeit it’s very true.” He chuckles “I hadn’t seen you much today and I wanted to spend some time with my wonderful girlfriend.” He spoke before intertwining her free hand with his. Her eyes lit up a little at the sight of their hands together, her hand was always so small compared to his, she loved it.

“Have you been feeling okay today? I noticed you didn’t quite seem yourself earlier at lunch and you usually come hang out with Freddie and I during your free periods, has something happened?” He spoke again, gently rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand, trying to encourage her to speak to him. Before she’d considered covering it up like she had earlier, her eyes met with his. She couldn’t lie to him again, not when he was looking at her like they were the only two people in the room. She sighed, beginning to explain about her day and all the things that had gone wrong and why she had been feeling so off while George sat, giving her simple nods while she was speaking and continuing to hold her hand, squeezing slightly when her breaths began to shake a little. She’d stopped speaking and before she could process it, George had moved her into his lap, beyond caring at this point, his main priority being looking after Y/N. He softly moved some stray hairs behind her ears and wiped some tears that had fallen down her cheeks while whispering some words of reassurance into her ear.

“I’m sorry I've not been around today Georgie.” She muttered into the crook of his neck, quiet, but loud enough for him to hear.

“You don’t need to apologise my love, it sounds like you’ve had a rough day, I’m so sorry.” He spoke, pressing some small kisses against her temple. “How about, we gather this stuff up, we’ll go to my dorm, you can choose whatever clothes of mine you’d like to wear, i’ll go down to the kitchens and get some chocolate and when I come back, we can cuddle and you can nap if you’re tired. Sound like a plan?” He whispered. Y/N pulled away slightly, taking his face in her hands and pressed a loving kiss against his lips.

“I’m the luckiest girl in the world Georgie.”

“And i’m the luckiest guy.” He responded, still smiling against her lips and beginning to gather all of Y/N’s stuff up, preparing to do everything in his power to cheer his girlfriend up, even if that means losing all of his hoodies and bed space.

Taglist: @horrorxweasley