#for some reason he also scheduled me to be off on wednesday. part of me wants to come in anyways
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
i guess. i just have to make it to next week. cries.
#i requested thursday off because that’s hello kitty day#and since i’m off next weekend i requested friday off too. so i can just have a few days to chill and play my game and not worry about work#for some reason he also scheduled me to be off on wednesday. part of me wants to come in anyways#cause i could use the money…#but part of me also would really like the extra day off. especially with how bad my health (both physical and mental) has been#and how overworked ive been feeling#but i also get my hair done next friday which im excited about. i really hope it turns out how i want it to :’)#snow.txt
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Adult Education Part 16 | Hangman x OC
Summary: Every sleepover with Jessica leaves Jake wanting more of her. More time making love, more time reading, more time cooking for her. But when a brilliant scheme is dropped on her lap, Jessica is about to have a little less time to spend with her boyfriend.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral, angst, mention cheating, 18+
Length: 4300 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
Jake was absolutely certain he'd never been happier than he was at this moment. Jessica was sitting on the kitchen stool next to him, moaning softly in her dishevelled clothing as she ate the chicken pot pie he made for her. His fingers were loosely tangled with hers, and she kept leaning closer to kiss him after she took a few bites.
He knew she'd been having a bit of a rough week, so it was important to him that she was relaxed now, especially since he'd been part of the reason the past few days had been tiresome. He hadn't meant to jump her like a horny teenager as soon as she got to his place, but it seemed like neither of them could do much to stop themselves. When he told her he could barely go a day without seeing her, he wasn't joking. At this point, Jessica was a necessity.
"Why don't you take a long shower when you're done eating while I clean up?" he whispered as she took her last bite.
She nodded and climbed from her own stool onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him before sliding to the floor. "I'll be back."
Her hair was a mess, and she still looked freshly fucked as Jake watched her walk away to his bedroom. When he heard her turn on his shower, he stood and started to clean up the kitchen. There was a lot of food leftover, but he also bought a lot of groceries in case she wanted something else. Part of him was planning on coaxing her to spend some time cooking with him, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself.
But they had time. Jake could take his time this weekend, just like he was going to take his time telling Jessica that he loved her. He didn't want to spook her again with this information, but telling her that a day apart was almost too much for him to handle was the beginning of his admission. It was the honest truth. Even now, just knowing she was in his bathroom had him heading in that direction.
He tapped on the door and poked his head into the steam filled room. "Mind if I join you?"
Jessica spun away from the spray of the shower and slid open the glass door, reaching out toward him with her wet fingers. Jake wrenched his shirt over his head and practically tore his sweatpants off to get to her as quickly as he could.
"Why would I mind this?" she asked, raking her fingers through his chest hair as her temple came to rest on his shoulder. When he touched her arm, he could feel goosebumps even though the hot steam was dense; her reaction to him was always welcome, too. "Honestly, this is the best I have felt all week. Brian's taking a leave of absence, and I get to spend time with you."
Jake froze with his hands halfway up her back. "Brian is taking a leave of absence?"
"Mmhmm."
"Is that... a good thing?"
Jessica kind of shrugged and then nodded. "I think so. I got an email from the dean asking me to cover one of his classes on Wednesday afternoons."
He considered her words. "Baby, that's amazing. They trust you to take on more work."
"Yeah," she said, crinkling up her nose, "but I still don't have tenure. And with Brian out, I can't even schedule a tenure review with him now that alumni weekend is over."
"Why didn't you tell me all of this as soon as you got here?"
She looked up at his face like he was one of her students who was failing a class. "Because, Jake, I got distracted by you. Obviously. Now why don't you tell me about your week?"
And once again, she amazed him by actually showing interest in what he had to say. Not only that, she called him smart when he talked about his jet's fuel ignition system. And after they got out of the shower, she asked him to read a journal to her. As Jessica was falling asleep, curled up with him on the couch, Jake took her glasses off so they wouldn't get smashed against her face.
"I love this, Reedy," he whispered, kissing her forehead and making her smile.
----------------------------
"Please tell me you know how to crack an egg," Jake groaned, standing behind Jessica in his kitchen the following day. He had his arms wrapped around her as they made waffle batter together, flour all over the counter and both of them.
She glanced up at him over her shoulder. "Do I look like I went to culinary school to you?"
"Baby," he laughed, reaching for the broken mess of egg shell next to the bowl and swiping it into the sink. "This isn't fine dining. It's a waffle."
"It's fine dining when you make it," she replied, and she was rewarded with Jake's lips on her neck. He hadn't shaved his face, and the scratch along her skin was completely addicting. His fingers dipped inside the neck of his shirt that she was wearing, and he kissed his way to her bare shoulder. "Can we go back to bed?" she whispered, rubbing herself back against him.
All she got was a smack on her butt and Jake's lips back up next to her ear. "No. I'm determined to teach you how to cook something." Jessica whined as he handed her an egg and cracked it with her, dumping it in the bowl of flour before tossing the shell. "See? Easy. Now do one yourself."
She picked up another egg, carefully cracked it, and then half the shell ended up in the bowl. "Oops."
"No, you did great," Jake told her as he fished the shell out of the batter. "I love crunchy waffles."
She groaned and tossed her head back as he laughed. "You're one of those people who is good at everything. You're really annoying, and nobody likes you."
"I know," he agreed, even though she was turning back to smile up at him. "I'm the worst. Now pick up the spoon and mix everything together."
She did as she was told, but frowned at the bowl. "Is it supposed to look so soupy?"
"Add more flour," he whispered as he kissed her ear. A chill went down her spine as his lips remained where they were, and Jake took her hand in his to scoop some more flour. "That's good. Keep mixing."
After another minute, she was shaking her head. "How is this supposed to turn into a waffle?"
"Magic."
And it kind of was magical, the way he made it look so easy. The batter was soon sizzling in the waffle iron, and Jake had her pinned against the counter with his hands up underneath her shirt. He was rubbing soft circles along her waist with his thumbs, and Jessica was enjoying the sight of him in nothing but his tented underwear.
"Five minutes until the waffle is done," Jake crooned as one hand slipped down the front of her lacy, pink underwear. "Think that's enough time?"
"For what?" she gasped when his thumb found her clit.
"Get my girl off," he muttered, kneeling in front of her and kissing her through the lace before pulling her underwear down to her mid thighs.
The thing was, Jessica was certain he could do it in five minutes or less, because he'd done it before. Just not with his mouth. But as soon as his lips met her clit and she could feel his stubble all over her pussy, she was leaning back against the counter and whining for him.
"Spread 'em wider, Baby," he whispered, kissing her thigh as she eased her legs a little further apart. "That's it. So pretty," he moaned before she felt his tongue glide from her opening up to her clit where he latched on and started sucking. The elastic of her underwear was digging into her thighs a little bit as he eased two thick fingers inside her.
The waffle smelled delicious, and Jake's mouth felt like heaven on her clit. But it was his fingers, thrusting so rapidly and so deep that had her practically shrieking. The muscles in his shoulder and bicep were taut as he finger fucked her sweet spot, but his face was calm and adoring as he looked up at her. As if he wasn't about to get her off in four minutes. As if he wasn't doing the Lord's work in his own kitchen with the waffle iron and with her pussy.
Jessica was pressed up on her tiptoes, shaking on the spot, subconsciously trying to get away from him while also pressing herself against his face. "Oh my god," she cried out, gripping the edge of the countertop, her hips rolling against his face of their own accord. She had lost control of herself as she came, gushing against his lips as her hips jerked.
She watched him lick his lips as he stroked her clit with his thumb through her orgasm, bringing her to the brink of overstimulation before the timer on the iron went off. Jake hopped to his feet with ease, pressing a wet kiss to her lips before opening up the appliance and said, "Oh good. The waffle is done just like you are."
With a halfhearted glare, she pulled her underwear back up and watched him slice some strawberries for the topping. Two minutes later, she was sitting on the couch while he fed her bites of waffle, berries, and powdered sugar. "This is so good," she gasped. The waffle was crisp and golden brown on the outside, but it melted on her tongue.
"You made it," he reminded her. "All I really did was cut up some fruit. Later, we can make dinner together, and I'll pack up little containers for you to take for your lunches."
Jessica threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking the plate out of his hand. "Thank you."
----------------------------
After spending Sunday playing dress up with Jake, Jessica finally headed home. But not until after she got to see him in his white uniform. And not until after he used his credit card to buy her three hundred dollars of new lingerie. "Next weekend should be even more fun," he crooned as he purchased all of it.
Now it was late, and she was unloading her lunch containers into her refrigerator after texting him that she got home safely. His response came in the form of one sentence that made her belly swoop.
Just remember, I can barely go a day without seeing you.
Had they progressed to mid week sleepovers? She thought maybe they had. And when she drove to work on Monday morning, she was contemplating asking him if he wanted to come over that night. She wasn't even thinking about work or Brian or any of it, because she was in such a pleasant haze from the weekend.
When she plopped down at her desk with her lukewarm coffee, she put her container of homemade lasagna that she had helped cook in her mini fridge. She turned on her computer and mused that there probably wouldn't be a department meeting with no Brian Conley at work, and she smiled. She was still smiling as she finished her coffee and ate a granola bar while she looked through the offerings on a boutique website, searching for the perfect birthday gift for Jake.
"Oh!" she gasped when she found what she was looking for. She wiled away her time before she had to give a lecture by picking out a pretty green frame to go with the art print. She could already picture it hanging on the wall outside his bedroom door. Just when she was entering her shipping information and credit card number, a loud knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Come in," she said, her heart starting to race as she purchased the gift, but she calmed down right away when she saw who it was. "Advanced Calculus. How was your weekend?"
But the other woman was looking up and down the hallway suspiciously before she pulled the door closed and rushed toward Jessica's desk. "We don't have time to chat," she said in a loud, harsh whisper as she planted her palms on the desk.
"We don't?" Jessica asked softly, meeting her wide eyed gaze.
"No, we do not. Listen carefully, because we need to act quickly."
"Is something wrong?" Jessica asked, but her friend just shook her head and hit the desk with her palm a few times.
"No! Now listen! Bradley had to drop me off a little early this morning, so I was in the math supply closet minding my own business when I saw Dr. Rosenthal walk by. And I said good morning. And then he said, 'It's always a good morning when you can calculate the area inside the donut you just ate,' just like he always does. Hmmm.... now I understand why Bradley likes it when I hang out with a very harmless old man at work...."
Jessica was gesturing for her to get to the point.
"Oh, yes, right! So, good old Walter Rosenthal stood there and looked at me like he had some hot gossip to share, which is wild, because I think he's at least seventy five, and he never talks about anyone. But I could tell. So, we stood there in the supply closet doorway, and he just unloaded about Brian."
"What did he say?" Jessica gasped.
"That Brian is taking a leave of absence! Apparently his wife walked in on him and a TA. But since she's not his TA, the university doesn't even care." Jessica was about to tell her that she already knew all of this information, but she kept her mouth shut as she continued. "But the real kick in the ass is that Brian is suddenly taking time off to work on his marriage! His wife is making him!"
"Really?" Jessica asked, leaning closer.
"Yes! And I didn't even get to the good part yet!" She was hitting the desk again as she jumped around. "You can thank me later for solving all your problems."
"I can?" Jessica asked, wishing she'd get on with it.
"Mmhmm. You see, Dr. Rosenthal just so happens to hold not just one, but two PhDs."
"He does?"
"He does! Mathematics and physics. Physics, Jessica! And he's going to be filling in as the interim head for the science department while Brian is off. And Dr. Rosenthal told me that he will be off for the rest of the month!"
"The rest of the month...." Jessica's gaze shifted away from her face when she realized it was only the second day of the month. Then she gasped. "The rest of the month!"
"Yes! And how long does it take to complete a tenure review?"
Jessica's heart was pounding so hard, she thought she was going to be sick, whether from nerves or excitement, she wasn't exactly sure. "Three to four weeks."
"Three to four weeks!" She was back to pounding on Jessica's desk as she whispered as loudly as anyone possibly could. "You need to get Rosenthal to review your tenure. And you need to get him to start it today."
"I can't ask him to do that," Jessica whispered as her heart sank. "It's so much work, and he's just an interim department head. And since he has tenure, they probably aren't even offering to pay him more for taking over."
"You can ask him, and you will! This is your chance. Anyone with half a brain can see how hard you work around here and how much your students appreciate you."
Jessica chewed on her lip and looked down at her lap. This was the kind of opening she'd spent the past year blindly hoping for. "I suppose he's got all the right credentials: he has a PhD in a scientific field, he's tenured, and he has more than ten years of teaching experience."
"Let's go," her friend said, still pounding on the desk. "Right now. Come on."
With a nod, Jessica was on her feet and reaching for her discarded suit coat. There really was no time to waste if she wanted this to get anywhere. But her hands were shaking on her way to the elevator, and she had a hard time pushing the button. "I'm nervous," she muttered, feeling like an idiot as she buttoned her jacket and ran her hands over the fabric.
"There's no reason to be. I promise," her friend replied. "Rosenthal is very reasonable. I'll introduce you, and then you can chat and see what he has to say. The worst he can tell you is no."
Jessica had already subconsciously gotten her hopes up that this whole thing might work out, and when she reached his office over in the math building, she was starting to feel faint. He had to say yes. He absolutely had to. If he did, she would take back every mean thing she ever said about all of the old guys at this college.
"Come in," called out a voice, and Jessica hadn't even realized that her friend already knocked on the door. Dr. Rosenthal looked a little stern at first in his reading glasses, but as soon as he saw who it was, he said, "It's a little early for lunch and curriculum talk, isn't it?"
"Dr. Rosenthal, have you met Dr. Reed? From the Physics department?"
He immediately stood and stuck out his hand, and Jessica felt a little bad shaking it with her clammy one. "Good morning, Dr. Rosenthal. It's nice to meet you."
"Yes, yes. But it's always a good morning when you can calculate the area inside the donut you just ate."
Jessica smiled, because apparently that was his go-to line. "A calculus joke? I like that. A good use of integration. But I prefer the physics version that claims a donut is fundamentally the same as a coffee mug."
"You know the topologist joke!"
"I'm pretty sure they don't let you have your physics PhD unless you do," she said with a tiny smile.
"Well, what can I do for the two of you?" he asked, glancing at his watch. "I need to meet with Dean Walters in thirty minutes, so I don't have very much time."
"I just informed Dr. Reed that you'll be taking over things in the science department for a few weeks while Dr. Conley is... unavailable."
Jessica had to swallow three times until her mouth felt wet enough to form actual words again. "And as a result, I hate to take up any more of your time, but my tenure review with Dr. Conley has been continually delayed. I was actually planning on talking to him about it again this morning, but that's when I heard he isn't even on campus right now." She was shaking slightly again; she never was any good at telling a lie, even a little white one.
"I'm not surprised," Rosenthal replied before pursing his lips in disgust. "Seems like he was busy doing other things, I suppose. Getting his work done was perhaps the last thing on his mind." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You still need to be reviewed again?"
Jessica shook her head. "I need to be reviewed for the first time, actually."
His brow furrowed. "How long have you been at the school?"
"Almost two years."
His eyebrows shot up. "Two years? And Dr. Conley never gave you a tenure review?" She started to shake her head, embarrassed all over again that she had managed to derail her own career by sleeping with him. Luckily Rosenthal saved her from having to speak just then. "Of course. Of course. It should have already been taken care of," he mumbled, shuffling papers around on his desk. "Just let me find my calendar."
The two women watched as he pulled out an enormous, old fashioned schedule keeper and a pen. Jessica's heart was beating so erratically now, she was afraid of what she would say if she opened her mouth. "I'm really rather booked up now, as I'm sure you can understand," he murmured. "But perhaps we can sit down together on Wednesday at lunchtime? I'll need a copy of your schedule to start with, and a copy of your students and their grades."
"I can have that to you this morning," she blurted out.
He smiled as he wrote in his calendar. "Ah, yes. I always did appreciate a professor who keeps up with their grades. The only other thing we will need is another tenured staff member with a PhD who won't mind writing a secondary report and signing off on my findings."
"I'll do it."
Jessica turned to look at her friend as tears welled in her eyes. It was one thing to ask Dr. Rosenthal to give up hours and days of his spare time to sit in on her lectures and critique everything and write a massive report, but this was something else entirely. It would eat up all of her spare time.
"No, I can't ask you to do that, Advanced Calculus," Jessica whispered as her vision blurred behind her glasses.
"Okay, well you didn't ask. I offered," she replied with a completely neutral expression.
Rosenthal looked between the two of them before saying, "That's settled then. Just get your schedule and your grade book to me later today, and expect to see me sitting in on your classes."
"Thank you," Jessica practically gasped, reaching to shake his hand again before she turned toward the other woman who was holding the door open for her. Once they were alone in the quiet hallway, her lips started shaking with unshed tears. "You didn't have to do that."
She just shrugged. "I'll have to be one hundred percent honest in what I write about, but I don't think that will be an issue. And... I don't think you fully appreciate how much I hate Brian Conley. Or how much I like you and want you to succeed." Jessica hiccupped as she tried not to cry while her friend started to walk away. "I have a Calculus lecture calling my name, but I'll talk to you later."
Jessica walked through the long corridor to the elevator and cried the entire way back to her office, but she felt better than she had in a very long time.
---------------------------
Jake was eating lunch while Bradshaw talked his ear off about getting his Bronco detailed. If he wasn't actively putting food into his mouth, he would have fallen asleep. "That's fascinating," he murmured.
"Right? I have one of the only 1973 models in pristine condition in the state. The whole state."
Jake tuned him out when his phone vibrated in his pocket, and relief washed over him when he saw it was a text from Jessica. Finally, something interesting.
Any chance you want to meet me at Chippy's for a drink later? And many have a sleepover at my place?
He almost dropped his phone as he texted back as quickly as he could. A Sam Adams after work with his hot girlfriend? Absolutely. A sleepover during the week? Color him committed.
When he showed up at Chippy's at 6:30 just like she had suggested, the place was packed, but there was no sign of her. So he made his way up to the bar where Chippy just blinked at him as he wiped up a nonexistent spill with his towel.
"Hi," Jake greeted.
"She's not here," he replied.
Jake nodded slowly. "She's meeting me soon. Can I get two pints, please?"
Chippy tossed the towel aside and grabbed two glasses, setting them down a little hard in front of Jake once they were full. Then he slid a dish of peanuts next to them while Jake took out his wallet.
"Perfect," he drawled, handing Chippy a ten with a smile. "You have a nice night." He grabbed an empty hightop with two stools and settled in, nursing his beer and cracking a few peanuts open.
He smiled as he thought about the first time Jessica invited him to her little dive bar paradise. She'd been so excited to talk to him about her lecture and her journals. He'd probably fallen a little bit in love with her that night, if he was being honest. The longer he sat alone and waited, he was reminded of the night she thought he stood her up. If that five mile run had taken him any longer, he doubted he would be here today.
It was like he could sense her before he saw her, and Jake was out of his seat as Jessica wove around the tables gracefully in her high heels to get to him. "Jake!" she gasped, pushing her glasses up her nose with the backs of her fingers before flinging her arms around his neck.
"Hey, Smart Girl," he whispered, kissing her while Chippy kept a close eye on things. "Did you have a good day?"
She squealed before chasing his lips for another kiss. Just when things were on the verge of becoming a little too hot for their current setting, she released him with a big smile. "You'll never believe what happened!"
-------------------------
I love Sugar. She's bestie material. She's everything. Let's make this happen! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 17
@blahehblah
@sotalife
@desert-fern
@furiouspiespytaco
@rosiahills22
@daggerspare-standingby
@je-suis-prest-rachel
@callsign-joyride
@theharddeck
@withakindheartx
@roosterscockpit
@whatislovevavy
@hangmanbrainrot
@neferpatra
@sehnsuchts-trunken
@averyhotchner
@thedroneranger
@cherrycola27
@mygyn
@hoyaharper
@tallyovie
@gennyanydots
@callsign-magnolia
@whisperofsong
@seriouslyseresin
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@bradshawsbitch
@katiebby04
@anotherr-fine-mess
@supernaturaldawning
@chassy21
@tylerjones98
@captainjaspenor
@gigisimsonmars
@fanboyswhore9
@angel-w0nderland
@abaker74
@idontcare-11
@isaebellaa
@bringnattolife
@xoxabs88xox
@djs8891
@hufflepufftruffle
@cottagecori
#jake seresin x oc#jake seresin fic#jake seresin fanfiction#jake hangman fic#hangman fic#hangman imagine#jake hangman imagine#hangman smut#jake seresin imagine#jake hangman seresin x oc#hangman x oc#jake hangman seresin fanfiction#hangman fanfiction#jake seresin#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#adult education
435 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gifts | Demon Slayers
Summary: In which someone gives you a gift and they find out.
Characters: Obanai, Kanao, Inosuke, Zenitsu, and Kanae
Warnings: Old draft so possibly extra bad grammar mistakes. Majority of these are pretty unserious pretty unserious. Extreme depictions of jealousy ahead ( Obanai and Zenitsu ) Inosuke being Inosuke, aside from that it's pretty fluffy. Female reader is implied ( Some much more than others ) Read at your own volition.
A/N: I start school again on Wednesday and the news has me so depressed that I've been unable to write anything. That said, anything posted in the near future will be scheduled ahead of time. This was written over on my Wattpad some time before I quit. ( Which you can find the full scenario here ) It's nothing much, but it's something.
"Aren't these beautiful?" You gasped out as you presented your boyfriend the glittering bouquet of roses. A beautiful collection in your favorite color and non-stick glitter—something he doesn't recall buying you.
"They're nice," He replies. His movements slowed as he slides his bag strap over his head and off of his shoulder. His eyes never left the bundle in your polished hands, and you were too busy oogling to notice, but his gaze hardened the longer he stared.
He didn't buy that for you, but they got here somehow. So, did you buy them for yourself? He decides to ask, "Did you buy those for yourself? If so, you didn't have to. If you would've told me, I could've bought that and more for you on my way home."
Your smile widens, "As always, you're the sweetest man I could've ever asked for," and you set the flowers aside at last, granting him the blessing to see your gorgeous, cheesing face as you walked up to him.
You leaned in, planting your lips to his slightly bandaged cheek, and for a moment, the boiling lava that had began to bubble at the base of his chest cooled as did his thoughts. It only lasted for a moment though, because as soon as you parted from him, you replied to his previous question.
"I actually didn't buy these myself. A coworker of mine did," And that simple response was enough for that volcano inside him explode all over again. Not that you could tell. On the outside, he seemed as calm as usual aside from the many veins flexing from his head that you didn't seem to catch.
"Oh really?"
You nod your head, "Mhm! But really I should've been the one to give them roses! They close up the restaurant for me all the time so that I don't have to risk the dangers of driving too late at night. Same goes for my shifts! Ever since they were hired, I haven't had to deal with late night weirdos!"
Obanai was nodding along, but not a single one of your words had processed in his head. His mind was on other things, other people—a certain cretin matching your description down to the tee coming to his mind and infuriating him so badly that one would think the lava inside of him would just boil right out through his pores and melt his skin.
But, of course, his voice gave away the exact opposite of what he was feeling when he spoke to you, "Say, love, is the coworker who bought you these also the one who walked you to the car last Friday?"
"Yeah! I'm glad you remember them!" You obliviously replied and he followed up with, "..And they're working the night shift tonight, right?"
"Yes..but why are you—"
"No reason," He simply said to you before leaning in and planting a bandaged, tender kiss to the side of your head, promptly ignoring the confused look you give him as he turns on his heel.
"I'm going out," He says, your favorite little snake beginning to peak from his clothes as he walked, grabbing his work bag filled with textbooks and graded papers in the process which only left you more befuddled.
"Huh, but you just got here.. Where are you going?"
"Don't worry, I won't be long. I'm simply in the mood for takeout. I'll be back with some for us in a little while."
"..Oh. Well, alright. Be safe!"
"Morning, Kanao!" You chirped after catching her in one of the many hallways of the Butterfly Manor.
At the lovely tune of your voice, her lips—which were moving since she was passing on Shinobu's instructions to a Kakushi—stilled. Her gorgeous lilac eyes seemed to noticeably sparkle as she caught a glimpse of you. Although it could've just been due to the lighting or your imagination..
As the Kakushi left, Kanao made quick strides up to you, her uniform's skirt, which she was still wearing having just got home, swaying with every little sway of her hip or movement of her thighs. She stops before you, allowing you to pull her in and squeeze the daylights out of her, all while wearing her usual smile.
"I'm so glad you made it back safely!" You said, parting from your crushing hug after a while, "And not a scratch on you! Hehe~!"
After you broke the hug, Kanao's eyes darted down, watching your lips move in a rapid succession as you began rambling about what you did last night. She was listening for the most part, but her eyes never left your mouth which she noticed was rather dolled up and coated by a unfamiliar, but pretty lipgloss.
It was a little darker than what you'd usually wear, but it still fits you perfectly as it contrasted your skin well and ultimately brought out your eyes more. Your smile too—she especially loved how it looked stained in that color.
"Ah-! Sorry! Did I start rambling?" You said upon the realization, your face beginning to grow hot from embarrassment.
"Look at me! You just got home and I'm already talking your ear off.." And then your lips dipped down into a small frown, which she'd be lying if she said didn't look just as pretty as your smile when all shiny like that.
As your lips parted to allow another apology to slip out, Kanao leaned in and captured them with her own. It caught you off guard, but on instinct, your mouth closed and only opened again when she eventually parted..
"I- Kanao.." You were at a lost for words. It wasn't often that she initiated stuff, much less kisses but..damn, did she look good with her lips coated in your new lipgloss.
..Oh, right! That's another reason you were excited to see her. You wanted to show her the new makeup kit you were given! Right! Foucs!
"Oh, Kanao! This really nice woman gave me a makeup kit for free the other evening while I was out shopping! She called me pretty and said it would suit me! ..Ah, but in the end, I still only have the courage to wear the lipgloss.."
"Do you.. Do you think I look as nice as the lady told me I'd look..?" You asked, semi-nervous. You couldn't help it. Even though you know there's a bat's chance in hell that she'd insult you, the possibilty was still there. Not that it lasted very long. As soon as you finished talking, Kanao leaned in again, answering your question by deciding to cherish your lips in kiss so sweet, it put Mitsuri's pancakes to shame.
"Uhm..Inosuke. What exactly am I looking at?" You questioned as you stared at the ring in your palms which was currently staining your hands brown and let off a putrid odor.
"It's a flower crown! I made it myself!" He said proudly, puffing his chest as he did so. You couldn't help the way your brows knit together.
"Is that so.." You mumbled out, trying to find the right words to say about this..gift.
Flower crown, he said, but there's not a flower in sight. Just twigs forced together by wet, sticky mud. It was nothing like the pretty arrangement set atop your head right now that was given to you by Kanao and certainly not as nice smelling. Nevertheless, you stretch a smile on your face and tell him in the most convincing happy tone you could muster, "Thanks, Inosuke! I'll cherish it!"
Unfortunately for you, that doesn't seem to satisfy him. After you thanked him, he went silent, staring at you for a long while. You had to resist the urge to scratch your cheek and stain it with mud to alleviate the awkward feeling in your gut..
"What's wrong?" You asked, the color draining from your face when he told you, "Put it on."
"B- But, I already have a crown on," You said, your smile crinkling at the ends, "And two crowns would look silly.."
"Then take off that one," He said in a 'duh' tone of voice. Your smile wrinkles even more.
"Uhm..b- but if I do that..then the mud will melt away and I won't be able to wear again— Yeah!" You stammered, "I think Tanjiro said it'll rain soon! You spent so long working on this..uh- wonderful crown for me that I wouldn't want it to get ruined!"
Inosuke pauses, and for each second of silence that passed, the image of your head soiled by mud as twigs poked you became clearer and clearer. Luckily, the next words Inosuke says are just what you were praying to hear.
"I knew that!" He said, "Obviously, I was just testing you to see if you knew that it would rain soon!" And you sighed out a breath of pure relief as you nodded your head.
"Right, right.. Of course," You said, "Glad I passed the test then."
"And I promise, I'll wear it as soon as the rain passes," You ended up leaving it out by 'accident' in the end. Best part is that you had managed to stray so far away from the topic of the gift that Inosuke eventually forgot about it! ..Unfortunately, it was at the cost of the flower crown Kanao made you as you found it too risky to wear it around your boyfriend out of fear he'll remember that god awful mud crown.
"I'ma kill him!" Your boyfriend said, veins flexing from every angle of his face with nothing short of murder in his whited out eyes.
"Zenitsu," You called sternly, "Don't you dare." But it doesn't seem that he was willing to listen to reason. That said, you latched onto him as soon as he began walking. Nevertheless, Zenitsu was as determined as ever and kept trying to walk away. With you being physically stronger, however, he didn't get anywhere and was forced to walk in place.
"It's was just a kiss on the cheek. Plus he's a literal child," You said, causing the man you loved to look back at you with eyes of betrayal.
"Exactly! A kiss on the cheek! That squirt tainted my girlfriend's cheek with his lips!" He shrieked before his head turned as did his tone, changing to one much more aggressive as he said, "He needs to be dealt with!"
"No one is getting dealt with!" You yelled, "I'm not letting you hurt a kid who's done nothing wrong!" And you turned and began walking away, arm still tightly gripping your boyfriend's arm. Zenitsu had no choice but to be dragged away by you, steam practically blowing out of his ears as he caught a glimpse at the little boy who kissed you—who was laughing and grinning from ear to ear.
He's never wanted to dice someone up more in his life.
"Oh my," The drawled chime of your girlfriend's surprise was the first thing you heard when you stepped into the common room. It causes your eyes to wander, trailing over to the couch where Kanae was waiting for you with a smile on her face.
"I know it's been some time since we've last spent time together, but you didn't have to dress up for me. Not that I'm complaining," Her glossed lips parts, opening just enough for her to slide her cup between them. She then speaks, her voice bouncing around and vibrating the cup, making ripples in the tea inside, "There's nothing better than having a nice view while you drink or eat something, makes it taste ten times better!"
You could feel your skin being set aflame at her words, but you played it off in the best way you could; by giggling like a little girl.
"Well aren't you the smooth talker," You said as you walked up to her. Your hand reaching out to accept the cup she had begun to raise in your direction, "Are you trying to fluster me or something? If so, it'll take a lot more than pretty words."
"Not at all," She says, but her smile told you otherwise. Not that you cared enough to call it out, deciding to sit beside her instead, "But really, I'm surprised! That type of clothing isn't something you tend to wear after all."
"Shinazugawa bought it for me a while back. We were out on a mission togther and my clothes were in tatters by the end of the fight. Since it was raining, he took me to the first inn he could find and bought the first thing he saw at the market we passed through and told me to put it on," You explained, adding, "And that something happened to look like somehing out of a fairytale.."
"Is that so? He really did that?" She said, her voice pitching as her tone perked up, "He's come such a long way from that meeting! I'm so happy for him!" And then she takes another sip of her tea, "Next time I see him, I'll pass on my thanks to him for his kindness!"
"Pass on mines as well," You said, reaching for one of the many treats set on the table, "He went out on his next mission while I was changing so I never got the chance to."
Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x y/n#demon slayer x you#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#kimetsu no yaiba x y/n#kimetsu no yaiba x you#kny x reader#kny x y/n#kny x you#obanai iguro#kanao tsuyuri#inosuke hashibira#zenitsu agatsuma#kanae kocho#obanai iguro x reader#obanai x reader#obanai x y/n#obanai x you#kanao tsuyuri x reader#inosuke hashibira x reader#zenitsu agatsuma x reader#zenitsu x reader#inosuke x reader#kanae kocho x reader#kanae x reader
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rating: E Characters: Portgas D. Ace, Fushichou Marco, Izou, Thatch, Reader Warnings: Temperature Play, BDSM undertones, Wax Play Series: Kanon's Kinktober '24 Do not interact with this post if you are under the age of 18; the following material is intended for mature audiences only.
Summary:
“You’re killin’ me,” Ace murmured, reaching out to smooth his fingers down your spine. You gasped at the trail of heat they left in their wake, your movements stilling. “Eh? Você gostou disso?” He questioned, his head tilting, watching as you quickly struggled to tug your pants off the rest of the way. Bingo. “I don’t know why you decided to do this new fancy trick with your hands-” “It’s not just my hands.”
Notes:
HAPPY FIRST WEEK OF KINKTOBER. Some fun notes: -I'll be posting one fic for the next 4 weeks for Kinktober; my work schedule doesn't give me the free time to do a fic for every single day, so I decided one a week, posted on every Wednesday, with a bonus one on Halloween itself. -Each fic will be tagged appropriately, I'll even include a rundown of what to expect here in the notes. -First up is Ace, with Temperature Play ( Devil Fruits Are Fun! ) + Wax Play, with a fem!Reader. There isn't anything too crazy in here, just Ace being a little possessive and absolutely drunk on the reader. Also, Ace does use Brazilian Portuguese in this fic. c: As always: PLEASE PRACTICE SAFE, SANE, CONSENSUAL SEX. THIS IS LOWKEY BDSM MATERIAL. You should always have a system in place to check in with your partner when partaking in more intense scenes, and multiple ways to communicate if you can't speak for some reason- as well as a hard stop Safe word. Neither are used in this fic, but it is discussed in the fic, just in case. PLEASE use candles that are created specifically for wax play ( low burning candles ) if you want to safely try out wax play. Also, always be careful when using fire to not burn yourself, your hair, or anything around you. There are candles you can buy for this. The wax doesn’t heat up to such a high degree. Also, don't be silly, wrap your willy. <3
It was a rare treat to find the Moby Dick and fleet docking at an island for longer than a few hours for a restock run. The latest storm that was churning up the oceans in their pathway had made it too dangerous to even consider taking the whole fleet through. Ace didn’t mind, really; it meant more time to spend with the holder of his attention, the object of his affection. His gaze followed you across the tavern as you laughed with Thatch and Izou. His jaw worked slowly as Izou reached over, tucking a strand of her hair back from your face. Izou wasn’t interested in you, he knew that; Izou had his eyes on someone across the ocean from them.
Still, some part of him- some deeper part that he almost loathed- burned with the urge to make it clear to everyone just who you belonged to.
You was his, and his alone.
“You look ready to burn a hole through the wall,” Marco chimed in as he plopped down beside Ace, his gaze tracking Ace’s own. Ah, the little deckhand. “Got rooms for everyone, yoi. Go.” He waved a hand, and that was all Ace needed to hear as he rose from his seat, leaving a few berry behind for the flagon of ale that he hadn’t even touched- which Marco was greedily reaching for, his own gaze shifting to follow a pair of long legs.
“Ah, speak of the devil!” Izou greeted Ace as he approached, a brow raising as he took in the expression on his face. “I think your free time is over, dear.” He hummed, looking over to Thatch, who snickered into his ale.
You sighed as she leaned back in her chair, gaze flickering up to meet Ace’s in faux innocence. You knew just what had gotten him so worked up- you. Your antics from that morning, getting him all riled up before leaving to go attend to your duties, leaving him high and dry. A shame, really; it had left you aching for more, with this odd sort of anticipation that lingered beneath your skin. “Marco got us all rooms.” You informed Ace, watching as his gaze narrowed slightly. He hadn’t even spoken, yet. Oh, you were in for it.
“Have you eaten?” He asked finally, his hand smoothing over the back of your neck. The touch sent shivers down your spine despite how warm his palm was.
“Mhm,” you answered, bobbing your head. “Guess it is getting late, huh?”
“Don’t break her too hard, Pops wants us out by daybreak.” Izou warned, watching as Ace’s eyes widened, as his cheeks colored. Ah, that cool facade broke far too easily.
“I-I’m not- shut up!” He hissed, ducking his head as his hand dropped from your neck, only to be grabbed by your own hand, fingers lacing as you rose from your seat.
You reached over, stealing one more roll before winking at Izou and Thatch. “See you two in the morning.” Ace sighed with silent relief behind you as you led the way out of the tavern and down the hall. You glanced down at the key Ace was carrying, catching sight of the ruby numbers: 13. The last room in the hall, how nice.
He reached past you, sliding the key into the latch, unlocking the door with a soft ‘click’. You pushed the door open, eager to both be alone with Ace, and to have an actual bed rather than a hammock. As soon as the door closed, his hands were gripping your hips, pulling you back against him. “I’ve wanted you literally all day,” he murmured, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Do you know how hard I’ve been?”
“If an erection lasts longer than four hours-”
“I’ll bite you.”
“Do it. I’ll like it.” The teasing was normal, easing both of you into more of a relaxed state as you turned in his grasp. Your arms reached up, winding around his shoulders as you bumped your nose against his own. “You showered,” you whispered, fingers toying with the soft curls at the base of his skull.
“‘S nice to be clean,” his hands squeezed your hips gently, thumbs sliding beneath the hem of your shirt. “I got a question for you, baby.”
His hands were still warm. Oddly so; it wasn’t abnormal for Ace to get heated- literally- when you two were together. But something felt different here. It made your heart begin to slowly speed up behind your ribcage, had you pulling your head back to meet those gorgeous brown eyes of his. “Talk to me, love.”
His cheeks were rosy, his gaze unable to meet your own as he looked to the side. Despite the bravado, he would get shy with you. You were his weakness. “You mentioned an idea the other night that’s been on my mind.”
Your brows furrowed. What had you… Oh! “The candles?” You asked, reaching up to carefully pluck his hat from his head. Your fingers returned to his hair, slowly working through the slightly damp tresses. “Did you wanna try it on me, Ace?” You asked, voice soft- low. Your nails gently brushed against his scalp, watching as his eyes fell shut, as a shudder worked its way through him. “I wouldn’t mind it. I think it could even be pleasurable.”
He groaned softly, his head dropping, chin resting on your shoulder as he simply held you close for a moment. “You’re gonna torment me, huh?” He mused with a soft chuckle, turning his head to press a kiss to your throat. His eyes were heavy; he was tired, but not from exhaustion. The damned narcolepsy… “Strip.” Ace whispered, his lips trailing up towards your jawline. “All the way down,” a kiss to the corner of your lips, “like a good girl.” He finished with a proper kiss to your lips, one of his hands raising to cup your jaw, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss.
You were weak for him, and Gods, he knew it.
You didn’t whine, didn’t pout as he pulled back, a cocky grin pulling at his lips as he sat down on the edge of the bed, eager to watch you disrobe. Cheekily, you turned away from him, your fingers grasping the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it to reveal your back. Shirt tossed aside, you leaned down, unlacing your shoes slowly while Ace admired the view of your rear. Boots unlaced, you toed one off, then the other, followed by your socks. Slowly straightening back up, your arms raised high above your head, stretching. The movement allowed Ace the grace of seeing the subtle swell of your breasts- and the hint alone got a soft groan from him. “Merda,” he sighed, shaking his head. Your hands smoothed over your sides as you continued your little show, fingers hooking in the waistband of your pants. Slowly- as slowly as you could manage, you lowered your pants down your thighs, over your knees, down to your calves before bending over-
“You’re killin’ me,” Ace murmured, reaching out to smooth his fingers down your spine. You gasped at the trail of heat they left in their wake, your movements stilling. “Eh? Você gostou disso?” He questioned, his head tilting, watching as you quickly struggled to tug your pants off the rest of the way. Bingo.
“I don’t know why you decided to do this new fancy trick with your hands-”
“It’s not just my hands.”
Your eyes widened as you turned around, facing him with blown pupils. “... Fuck.” You whispered, taking in the gorgeous sight in front of you- much the way he was also admiring the view of your nearly nude form. While you’d been giving him a show, he’d stripped down completely. The tan line from his shorts was always comical, but you weren’t focused on that. No- sweet Poseidon, he was already half hard.
“Trying to,” he reached over, hooking his fingers under the side of your panties, tugging you closer by it. “Gotta enjoy this meal in front of me first before I do anything else, though.”
“Ace-” You gasped, cheeks flushing at his eagerness, a hand raising to cover your mouth as his lips pressed against the sensitive skin beneath your naval.
His lips worked down, teeth scraping against the sensitive, soft skin before hooking in the hem of your panties. Wordlessly, he sank to his knees, tugging the fabric down with him. You knew the rules, now- hold on, and don’t let go until he was done with drinking his fill. Your panties fell around your ankles, and he did help you step out of them- just so that he could have you raise one leg up, settling it over his shoulder. You had nothing to brace against except for Ace, but he liked it that way.
The first press of his lips against your folds was gentle, an almost loving kiss pressed to such an intimate, sensitive space. Your fingers wove through his hair with one hand, the other reaching down to grasp his shoulder as his tongue smoothed through your folds, parting them for the near burning touch of tongue to sensitive clit. “Ace!” You gasped in surprise, nearly jumping back before his arm looped around your other leg, holding you in place.
And here you were, thinking that the ice you’d used a few weeks back had been a shock to the system. Nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his abnormally warmed tongue lapping at your pussy like a man starved. He moaned against you at your taste, fingers squeezing the back of your thigh in appreciation. His nose brushed against your clit from this angle, each movement of his head giving you sparks of pleasure. His tongue lapped at your weeping center, drinking what you offered him. Your head tilted back, hips slowly grinding against his tongue, his nose, his lips, taking the pleasure he was greedily offering you.
You could stay like this for hours, with his head between your thighs, desperately licking at your core, at your swollen clit, gasping and moaning his name- and you had, multiple times. But something told you Ace had other ideas- and you weren’t ready to cum, not yet. Not that your legs would hold you up if you did, anyway. “Ace,” you panted, jolting with each hot swipe of his tongue across your clit. You glanced down- and good Gods above and below, that was a mistake. His hair was a wavy mess from your fingers running through it, tangling it. He was looking up at you, gaze lidded and afire, his cheeks rosy and as he pulled back for a moment, his chin and mouth glistened. “Holy shit.” you couldn’t help but whisper as he grinned, pupils blown so wide, they swallowed the chocolate of his gaze. “Baby- not yet, please.”
It almost pained him to pull back- but he did, only after placing a teasing kiss to your clit. “Lay down on your back.” He murmured, gently lowering your leg from his shoulder. He watched you stumble, reached out to grab you around the waist and tug you closer. “Careful, meu bebê.” He chuckled, grinning as you regained your balance. “Can’t have you falling. Unless it’s in love-”
“Your dick is within squeezing distance, Portgas.”
“Point taken.” Still grinning that mischievous grin, he released you, watching as you fell onto the bed. His gaze raked across your form, drinking down his fill. Shaking his head with a soft whistle he turned to the room. “Let’s see if I can do this.”
“Do what?” You asked, watching him curiously as he wiggled his fingers. The fire is him, and he is the fire- that’s what he had told you when you first started getting to know one another. You knew a fair amount about Devil Fruits, the different variations between nature based ones, animal based ones, and the weird ones that don’t fall into either category. Ace had insane control over his, could create a wildfire with a flick of the wrist. And now- now, with a wave of his hands, the candles throughout the bedroom flickered to life, their wicks catching flame with such ease. You gasped in awe as the golden glow of the candles bathed the room, as Ace looked at you over his shoulder with that damned smug smirk.
“That.” He answered, settling down onto the bed beside you. “Now- let’s lay out a few ground rules, yeah?” He reached over, brushing his knuckles against the apple of your cheek. “What’s the safe word?”
You thought for a moment. Something easy to remember, but not something you would just casually bring up in conversation. “Peppermint.” You decided, nodding. “And the basic color system. Green for keep going, yellow for a break, red to stop.”
“And if you can’t talk for some reason?” Fingers warmed by unseen flames traced your collar bones, dipped down to brush over the swell of your breast.
A shaky breath drawn in, you answered, “One tap for okay, two taps for slow down, three to stop.”
“Good girl.” He leaned over, capturing your lips in an eager, heated kiss. His tongue ghosted against your bottom lip before he pulled away, teasing. “You ready?”
You were nearly shaking with excitement as you nodded. He leaned over, grabbing one of the pillar candles from the side table. Easing back up onto his knees, you are gifted with a near godly sight. Ace, kneeling above you, his cock hard and the tip weeping- but even further up, the way the light from the candle bathed him in gold. He looked like a God.
Sometimes, you wondered if he was a God in mortal skin.
You watched as the flame flickered, the candle tilting slowly over before wax dribbled out- and onto the skin of your hand. “Too hot?” He asked; a test, you realized. Smart. You shook your head ‘no’, and he hummed. “Good.” The next drops landed on the tops of your breasts, making you gasp loudly in surprise. The sensation was sharp, the feeling almost painful at first before the wax began to cool on your skin. You drew in a deep breath, nodding.
And so, the game began.
Slowly, Ace dribbled wax across both of your breasts, until you were a squirming, whining mess. “I bet you’re even wetter now, huh?” He mused, head tilting slightly as he let wax build up one more in the candle’s hollowed out center. A part of him considered helping speed the process along- but that could make the wax too hot, and he’d like to avoid causing you actual harm. The candle tilted, and he watched the wax dribble down the center of your sternum, down over your tummy. You hissed as it got close to your naval, but he skipped down- and for a brief moment, you both wondered what would happen if it dripped further south.
He very carefully did not spill any, there.
No, instead, he moved it to your thighs, letting the wax spill over and drip down the insides of your thighs as you hissed and squirmed, moaning with the sharp form of pleasure the wax was offering you. “Ace,” you whined, legs spreading wider as he painted your sensitive inner thighs with wax. “Ace, please.”
“Please, what?” He asked, reaching down to cup your core, his palm heated up, mimicking the warmth that the wax offered. You shuddered at the feeling; your words failing you as his fingers parted you, brushing against your nub in slow, deliberate circles. “Words, Amoreco.” A soft tap- it couldn’t even be considered a slap, not with how gentle it was- was delivered to your core, making you jolt from the feeling.
You met his gaze, your own hazy. “Fuck me,” you whispered- and that was all it took for Portgas D. Ace to break. He leaned over, setting the candle on the floor away from the bed before sitting back up. You hummed, arms open as he slid into your embrace, his fingers seeking out the foil packet he’d placed on the bedside table preemptively. Just in case.
You never know.
A hiss escaped him as you rolled the condom onto his weeping cock, your touch like heaven for him in that moment. “Lube?” He whispered against the column of your throat. You huffed, reaching over for the small bottle as his fingers toyed with your entrance, teasingly dipping in before pulling out, feeling how wet you had become due to the toying. “Fuck, you’re dripping,” his words held no small amount of awe as you reached between the two of you, dribbling the lube onto his cock. He let out a noise not quite a hiss, not quite a yelp at the temperature difference that sent you into a giggle fit.
“Oops,” you snickered, feeling him pout against your throat. Your amusement was short lived as Ace lined himself up, the fat head of his cock slowly pushing in. The stretch was something you never got used to, your breath escaping with a soft, “Oh, yes,” as he sank in inch by glorious inch. Once he’d bottomed out, you both lay there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being filled and filling you.
Until you could feel Ace physically growing warmer- all over. He grinned in a rather feral way against your throat as his hips pulled back, only to slowly roll back into you, making you feel every inch that sank in. A wordless moan pulled free from your lips as he kept the torturously slow pace, his heat sinking into your skin- inside and out. “You feel so good,” he whispered, biting down on your shoulder gently. He was holding back.
Well, that wouldn’t do.
Your hands shifted from their position at his shoulders to smooth down his back- before you adjusted your hold, your nails raking down his back, leaving red lines in their wake. “Ace,” you purred, rolling your hips to meet his stuttering ones, “Puedes follarme mejor que eso.” The resulting groan and shudder was your answer. Ace liked being close when you two were together, but this required him pushing up, sitting up on his knees to gaze down at you. You moaned at the subtle change within, the head rubbing against that one damned spot that promised to make you see stars.
“Brat,” he muttered, his hands settling on your hips- holding you down as he pulled out. The next thrust in felt like a punch, your breath leaving you in a half-yell as he set a punishing pace. His hands felt like brands on your hips, and you almost hoped that they would leave a mark in his wake. You couldn’t speak, not with how he was moving, your mind stalling. “Takin’ me so fuckin’ well, look at that.” He groaned, reaching between the two of you to press his fingers against your clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “Who’s this pussy belong to?”
“You!”
“Say it again, couldn’t hear you.” He leaned down, tongue laving over one of your nipples, leaving an almost burning trail in it’s wake. “Who’s fuckin’ pussy is this?”
“Ace!” You sobbed, feeling your impending orgasm rapidly build- faster than you’d ever experienced. “My pussy is yours!”
Ace groaned, his lips circling a nipple as you wailed, the waves of your orgasm crashing over you. He grinned around your nipple as you shook, your walls clenching around him rhythmically. He didn’t slow his pace, groaning against your bust as he began to chase his own release. “Baby-” he moaned, brows pitching as he felt his balls drawing up, as that thread threatened to snap. Your hands grasped his face, tugged him up to capture him in a kiss- and oh, how he snapped. His hips stilled, buried to the hilt within you, as he moaned into the kiss.
Music to your ears.
His forehead pressed to your as you both panted, catching your breath. “That… Was amazing,” he laughed breathlessly, pecking your lips, the tip of your nose, your cheeks. You hummed in agreement, bone weary after everything. Ace slowly- carefully- pulled out of you, quickly discarding the used condom to the trash. He was tired, too- but before he could sleep, he needed to tend to you. He stepped into the bathroom for a moment, wetting down a wash rag with warmed water. He kept the rag warm in his hands as he returned, settling down beside you. “How are you feeling?” He asked softly, reaching over to cup your cheek, directing your gaze to meet his.
“Good,” you replied softly, blinking lazily. “Tired.”
He nodded in agreement, chuckling. Slowly, he cleaned off the wax bits from you, using his palms to heat them up to clean them off easier rather than simply peeling them off bit by bit. Red whelps lay in their wake, each one soothed by the gentle caress of the rag. By the end of it, you were clean and warm and freckled with the evidence of your coupling.
You brushed your fingers over one of the groups of whelps on your stomach as Ace joined you back in bed, curling against your side. “I like it,” you murmured as his head tucked into the crook of your neck, his arms winding around your middle. “The cleanup is more tedious than ice is, but I like it.” Turning your head, you pressed a kiss to his forehead. He was already half asleep, legs tangling with your legs.
“‘M glad,” Ace mumbled, his breathing beginning to deepen. It was a miracle he hadn’t fallen asleep before now. You smiled, enjoying the warmth he offered you as sleep took him away. Love wasn’t something either of you mentioned; the topic was a difficult one for him to speak about. But it showed in other ways- like him taking the time to clean you up meticulously, how he wrapped himself around you when he slept. How his fingers still sought out one of your hands, even when holding you now. No, love wasn’t something you said out loud-
But with Ace, actions would always speak louder than words.
#x reader#portgas d ace x reader#portgas d ace x fem reader#portgas d ace smut#one piece smut#one piece x reader#Kanon's Kinktober '24#temperature play#wax play
147 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pointed views || Jade & Van
TIMING: Before Cass went to the farm upstate LOCATION: Sly Slice PARTIES: @vanoincidence & @highoctanegem SUMMARY: A mix-up in schedules forces Jade and Van into the same room for the first time since their fallout. CONTENT WARNING: Gun use tw, only in reference to past threads.
Another day, another shift. Jade took off her helmet and climbed off Roxie as usual, staring at the sign in front of her for a moment: Sly Slice. The gig was still fun, don’t get her wrong. But there was an obvious Van shaped hole in her life that made everything a little suckier. Like, since their fallout, Jade was finally able to notice just how greasy the walls were, or how faded some of the posters looked and… again, it was a stable gig, she wouldn’t just bounce when she had to provide for her babies and spoil her lady, but… it was different. It was worse. Van had been the reason she showed up to the shop with a huge smile every day. And Van wasn’t there anymore. Jade swapped every shift she had to give the girl her space.
Or she thought she did, at least. Jade’s saunter came to a halt when she entered the place and spotted the cashier for the night. It was definitely not the guy who worked at Sly Slice to pay for magic school (?). Nope. Van’s gaze locked with hers before she could sneak out and pretend she had the wrong schedule or she broke a nail or whatever lie would’ve worked for Rocky. (When she batted her eyelashes, most lies did).
And well, shoot. What was she gonna do? Jade approached with caution, remembering to run a hand through her hair to fix the helmet head. Van was right there, behind the counter. Jade had heard bits from the girl since that day in the cabin. From Nora and Thea and even Regan. Jade knew she was alive, but like… staring at her was like, so real. Her body buzzed with energy she hadn’t felt in a while. Happiness, lowkey. (And actually, had Van shrunk? She was so much smaller than she remembered).
A billion sentences rushed to her head. ‘How are you?’ was the first, but also things like, ‘who’s taking you home at night?’ And ‘why did Wynne say you were attacked by a vampire?’ More importantly, ‘can you give me a second chance to explain? I’m not actively bleeding out this time’ also popped in. Instead, what she said was, “Wait. It’s Wednesday, isn’t it? It’s my day,” cause that was easy. That was like, just facts. No feelings involved. And well, both she and Van were so good at deflecting weren’t they? They hadn’t been sisters for nothing.
—
Van knew that this day would come. That switching out shifts and skirting around Sly Slice would evidently land her right in front of Jade. She hadn’t expected it to be so soon, or when it was literally just the two of them. The cook was in the back, probably on the phone with his boyfriend. Which was fine, it was slow. It always got like this after college let out for the summer. There were a few stragglers, but for the most part the hours passed by slowly leaving much to be desired. It was when Van surpassed most people in Candy Crush.
Her phone blinked an array of different light up at her as she locked eyes with Jade. Her stomach bubbled, anxiety edged with iron coating her tongue. She could pretend, couldn’t she? To not be bothered? To…
“Uh…” Van looked down at her phone, swiping to the side. It was Wednesday. “I had to pick up Spencer’s shift.” That was easy enough, wasn’t it? “Something about some magic thing he had to do.” Yeah, easy. No lies. She had tried to argue with him, but he assured her that Jade wouldn’t be in. That had obviously been a lie. Maybe he saw what was happening and wanted to try and stop it? Or maybe he hated Van and wanted her to suffer. Or maybe it was Jade he hated. Regardless, the magic he spoke of wasn’t the real thing, but she wasn’t going to take the wind out of his sails, especially not when she had only finally accepted the fact that she had it running through her veins.
“It’s fine.” It wasn’t. Not at all. Van didn’t want to be around Jade, even now. She remembered what the older woman looked like covered in her own blood, and possibly the blood of somebody else(?) She remembered the look on her face, the defiance for any other logical reason why she shouldn’t be killing people. And yet…
Van looked back down at her phone, hyper aware of the way that Jade’s eyes lingered on her. She could do this. She could focus on Candy Crush, and maybe she’d restart She-Ra for the fiftieth time. She could ignore her. This would be fine, it would be easy.
—
Spencer performed a disappearing act, or something. Go figure. Finally a trick worked for him, cause Jade was like, so over choosing cards and then lying when he showed her the wrong one just to be encouraging. (It’s how it worked, right?) (Cause it had to suck, being bad at the thing you wanted to be good at). Jade let out a knowing hum, hoping that whatever he was up was actually making him a better magician. “Mm, he asked me about rabbits the other day” she wiped the half grin creeping on her lips before continuing, “animals. For… cause tricks, ya know?” she pulled something out of an invisible hat to make the point.
Van said it was fine. What was fine, actually? Not a lot felt fine. Regan felt fine, more than fine even. Like the wet bog of wonderful among a desert of definitely not fine. But Jade couldn’t always stay in the bog (she’d tried) (capitalism was stopping her). Right now she was definitely in the not fine lands. It was territory that got harder to trudge with every passing day. And like, she was stubborn enough to think she could get through it on her own and come up on the other side, but the vibes were more along the lines of, being waist-deep in some kinda murky swamp that would soon be impossible to wade. (Her head was coming up with a super interesting place. Deserts, swamps. She hoped there was a Jollibee somewhere). Weird tangent, anyway... Van said it was fine. Existing in the same space. It was like, a start at least. And oh, okay, girly was back looking at her phone (pft, young people, always…).
Jade was curious if she was playing one of her games or if she was texting someone to come and bail her out. The nostalgia wave hit her hard, getting some serious flashbacks to the first time they met. Before she knew Van would like, become such an integral part of her life in town. She should’ve kept it light and breezy, shouldn’t she? She shouldn’t have tried so hard to find a place to fit. Cause duty would always come knocking to drive a wedge between her and… life. But… Right, they were here to work not… yap. Except, they used to always chat at work cause it made it fun, and there was always stuff to gossip about.
Jade glanced at Van one more time before nodding to herself. (She had suddenly gained sympathy for Ruby and Amber, for some strange reason). She would be professional. She would! She walked past the counter, intent on heading to the small locker room and also just… disappear from Van’s life, but she didn’t make it to the door before she turned around again. She could tell it was a super slow night. There was nothing on the counter for her to dash out of the shop yet. Jade wanted Van to hear her out, needed her to know she still cared. If Van didn’t reply, welp. That was so chill. Silence treatment? She had the world champions at home, it didn’t even faze her. But there was something weighing in her chest. Like, actually important stuff. So instead of a one way convo, or a meaningful speech like she should’ve wanted, she went off the script. “I heard... You were attacked by a vampire?” her gaze examined Van’s body for any signs of a bite on her neck or her ams but… nothing she could spot immediately. “Did it hurt you?”
—
“Okay.” Van wasn’t sure why Jade was still talking to her. Hadn’t she made it obvious by the stretches of silence? In the way that she’d done everything in her power to avoid her? It had been… not quite a month yet, but almost, maybe. Maybe it had been a month– Van had lost count of the days, had been too wrapped up in her own miseries, in trying to lead Cass from the ledge she balanced on. She was trying to help Nora, too. She couldn’t continue to tell Jade why she was wrong, only to be met with but this is my job. Van tapped around on her phone, not really paying attention to the shapes she was trying to match. She missed what could’ve been bonus points, and while she normally would’ve been upset by it, she brushed it off.
Jade moved towards the back room, and Van felt a pang of relief. Relief, because maybe Jade would stay there. Maybe Jade would send her hearts in Candy Crush to try and communicate, but Van would still ignore them. Every single one that Jade sent had gone ungathered, because if she accepted them, then that meant she forgave her.
The silence, however, was interrupted by Jade’s voice. A weighted question. How Van answered it would mean something and she knew it. She looked over at Jade with a blank stare, lips turned down into a tight frown. “It made me eat dirt. Not sure that counts as hurting me.” Van wasn’t sure how the different versions of vampires worked. If the same kind of creature had made the person under the leathery skin also eat dirt, if it had made it become that. Van should have been angry at that, should have been glad it was dead, but it wasn’t that simple. Of course she was glad she hadn’t turned into that thing, but not all undead were like that. There were people like her, like Jade– and the girl ahead of her had said so, had confirmed it.
“It was fine. It turned out fine. Opened a portal, just like with the banshees.” She put her phone down, but didn’t let it go. She turned it over and over in her hand for something to occupy her, for something to focus on. “Why? You want to kill it or something? I’m pretty sure I already did that. You’ve gotta be proud, right? Following in your footsteps and all that.” The words came out before she could stop them. She was harsher than she meant to be, and so she looked down at her hands, tongue pressed into her cheek.
—
“Yup, that definitely qualifies as hurt, it sounds like the type of thing a school bully would do,” Jade gave Van a pointed look, cause why was she acting like it didn’t hurt to be humiliated like that? It was super weird. Maybe she was like, trying to downplay the whole experience, cause Van did that sometimes when she didn’t know how to react. Or she was still in a bit of shock about it like Erin had been. All that mattered was that she hadn’t been bit or anything too violent, and the dread she’d been feeling since she learned about it could finally stop making her belly queasy.
Van had been saved by another portal. A small, proud smile reached her lips at that. She was getting better at her magic thingy (learn something, Spencer). She was using it for good, she was the reason Wynne was safe too, then. But whatever positive feeling bubbled inside her chest burst the second Van questioned her intentions. The tone stung, but again, she’d heard some variation of it before in other people. Why did she ask? Cause she cared about Van, was there supposed to be any other reason? Well, the way Van saw it, there was totally something hidden. She wasn’t deterred by a little dose of antagonizing. That was kinda her thing too, wasn’t it? “Oh, not really, nope. That’s not your burden to carry. You should be out there skating and having dates with Thea, and photoshopping people into worms, and playing all those games on your phone so maybe one day overtake me at Candy Crush. Not… dealing with bloodthirst creatures.” Van, like Siobhan, seemed to think murder was for funsies, apparently? Or that she did it for funsies. How badly did she fumble that conversation in the cabin? (Could anyone roll the tape?) Even Wynne, who had like, personal stakes (poor wording, whoops) in this had given her more grace. “I’m sorry you had to open a portal again, but I’m glad you and Wynne are safe, okay?”
Being stuck between trying to defend herself and thinking there was no need to do so, made anger simmer in her chest. (Cause who cared what other people thought if…um, when she was right?) She counted to five, trying to keep it chill. If it worked with Wynne, it would work with Van, obviously. “I asked cause Wynne said you were attacked, cause I care about you, not…” And actually, forget about it. She kept her voice low, but her tone matched Van’s harshness. “But I would go after whatever hurt you, wouldn’t you, for a friend?” For Nora? For Thea? For Cass? For Wynne? Maybe Van was different though, maybe Van was more of a hippie than she initially thought. And that was nice, to be fair, that she could be the bigger person despite her height. That she could let things go and not react. But she would get her hands dirty if it kept the people she cared for safe.
Jade thought of her conversation with Wynne. How much she had reread the script afterward. And okay, alright, she didn’t want to sound like that again, even if she felt the presence of her siblings looming behind her, asking her to stick to it. It felt like Jasper, by the way her head was snapped back to the pages with a little more violence than usual. Still, she did not read. She could be stubborn in both ways too, you know? (And that was totally gonna be a problem for all involved). This was the consequence of her own actions in a way, wasn’t it? When had she ever shown Van any other side of her than the fun older sister and gay guru? And so Van had been trying to grapple with a plot twist that had come out of nowhere and butchered her character in the process. She got it, okay? Van had zero of the lore. Also as a side note, she was also super glad there was no food on the counter for Van to throw at her if things got tense(r). The strawberry scent still lingered in that one shirt Wynne ruined. (Or maybe that was just the stench of doubt and failure).
Van was looking down at her hands, and Jade was actually glad. Cause she didn’t want the girl to see the conflict brewing behind her eyes, or the guilt deepening the lines on her face. She still wanted to be remembered as fun and easygoing, not broken or cruel. “I get the vibe… You don’t like what I have to do.” That was a contender for understatement of the year right there! She looked down too. There was no script in front of her. (And she didn’t know if it was relief or fear swirling in her chest). “I’m trying to… I’m trying to find a way.” Any time she tried to figure it out, she came up empty. She didn’t like Wynne’s way (it wasn’t technically their way, just named after them). Playing judge, assigning undead into nice and naughty lists. Putting all the flaws of human judgment on display. She didn’t like the idea of quitting cold turkey either. Never. She would… she could never. Not when human lives were in danger. The Bloodworth’s way still held most of the appeal, but she was beating on a dead horse by pretending it was working out for her. So what then? What was Van’s way? All Jade wanted was to be good. (But what kinda good was that?)
She stared at her boots. Fixing on the blade she had strapped to the side of her leg. “I’m trying to find a way but… it feels like I’m leaving humans to die… or— or I’m condemning them to turn into the monsters that attacked you cause… And see! Vampires will attack, zombies will go feral, it’s… ” Van got along with Emilio, so there had to be some kinda wiggle room, right? Some version of her duty where she got to keep the people she loved in her life. Could she want that?
Of course, the mention of love brought Regan to her mind, but specifically her reaction when Jade entered Zane’s house. She had been scared on his behalf. Cause she saw Jade as a murderer too, didn’t she? She was more comfortable with the idea of shacking up with someone who could kill her if she got a scratch, than with her, who she claimed to love. Jade couldn’t lose her. She couldn’t. She… Maybe, actually, she didn’t have more currency to keep paying the price of duty. That was it, she was empty. She looked at Van, her throat tightening. She missed her so much. “I should’ve told you before, though. It’s weird that it never came up.” like The Powers That Be dangled that one carrot a little too long that she almost forgot about it. But okay, they were here now. When would she ever shy away from talking?
—
Van flinched at Jade’s comment. What did Jade know about being bullied? Had she been on the other side of somebody’s vindictiveness? Because from where she stood, it seemed like Jade was the type to shove dirt into people’s mouths for simply existing. The undead kind, sure, but a bully to people all the same. She kept the comment to herself, not wanting to let Jade know things from her past and how they still haunted her, how she’d been relentlessly humiliated from elementary school into high school. Being different was what had earned her spot, after all. The part of Van and Jade’s relationship where she would divulge that information had caved in on itself the moment Jade admitted what she had done.
Anger obscured Van’s vision as she stared down at her phone. The screen became blurred, colors bleeding together, the timer in the corner counting down, tick, tick, tick. She could feel it under her skin; the anger. Her gaze snapped up to meet Jade’s and her lower lip quivered. She didn’t like being angry, it didn’t suit her. She cried a lot when she was angry, so maybe she had always been an angry person, just in a different way from other people. Maybe she’d been restructured to exist like this, a hollowed out version of herself after everything she’d endured. Maybe she’d never not be angry, and maybe it’d always look like this, and maybe she’d always hate it, and hate herself for it, but it was easy to put that hate onto somebody else, namely Jade. Even if it wasn’t necessarily hatred, but something on the outskirts of it. Because in reality, Van knew she could never hate her, but she could delude herself into believing she was getting close.
She couldn’t even correct Jade about the Thea comment, that they weren’t dates, and that she’d already overtaken her in Candy Crush, or at least gotten close. God, she’d gotten so close so many times. Van would have loved to envelope herself in the realization that Jade was proud. She thought of Emilio, and of Wynne on that night– of how they looked at her with a certain kind of fondness she didn’t believe she deserved. She had especially never expected to earn that look from Emilio. But as she sat in her stupid chair behind that stupid counter as Jade stood just outside of that stupid door that led into the backroom that would act as a barrier between them, Van had wanted it to be Jade there that night, all proud smiles and encouraging words. She hated herself for it, because wasn’t that lending herself to the purpose that Jade had constructed for herself?
Van didn’t want to be upset that Wynne had brought up their attack to Jade, because Wynne didn’t know that Van was unhappy with Jade. It wasn’t their fault. “Obviously I would.” She snapped back, unable to hide her disdain for the question. Jade didn’t even know the half of it; didn’t know how many people Van had cut down to ensure her own safety and the safety of others. Would the other’s opinion change if she did? Would she pat her on the back, telling her she’d done well because she protected herself? The difference was, Van wasn’t going out of her way to find people to hurt. Jade was. She had admitted it!
As Jade spoke, Van snorted. She dropped her head into her hands, scraping her palms down her face, pads of her fingers rubbing into her eyes as if to alleviate Jade from her vision once she opened them again. But no, she was still there as she looked up. “No shit?” She was being mean, too mean. This wasn’t like her, but she couldn’t stop. Was what Jade needed was for somebody to be so drastically different so she could see the error of her ways? “Does Regan know what you do? That you go and kill people just like us?” A brief pause, then she continued, “oh, sorry, wait, I forgot you don’t think they matter just because something happened to them to make them the way they are. They’re all bad for that, right?” Nothing had happened to her to give her her magic (she didn’t think), and from her understanding, nothing had happened to make Regan a fae, either. They’d been born this way (thanks, Lady Gaga), and so was that what Jade’s problem was? That something had attacked somebody else, thus turning them into what she envisioned as a monster? Some were, of course– the dirt eating monster, the ghoul like creature that attacked her and Emilio months ago. But there were differences, too. She knew there had to be, because Jade had said it herself: they were people, just like them.
There were truths to both of their versions of the story and Van knew that. “But can’t you like, at least give them the chance?” They had tried to give Debbie a chance, even as she held the knife against their skin. They had tried to put a stop to it, but had ultimately fallen to the script of becoming a version of some kind of final girl. Van wasn’t proud of the times she’d taken somebody’s life, but it’d been out of self-preservation. Those faces still haunted her dreams. Did the faces of those Jade killed haunt her’s, too, or did she pin them to her memory like some kind of trophy? “Because from like, where I’m sitting, you say those things will always happen, but you don’t know that.” Van didn’t know that, either. “There’s a way to come back from the bad things you’ve done.” Was that true for Jade? Did Van believe that Jade could come back from what she had done the night she stumbled back into the cabin? “Maybe it’s better that I didn’t know, actually.” Even if she was glad she did. She was tired of living in some ignorant bubble, only to be popped when the going got tough.
There was a brief silence, and Van almost dared it to eat her alive, but finally, she said something. The music that poured from the kitchen was abrupt, a soundtrack to the slinging of dough and cooked marinara. “I’ve done things to people, not just monsters. To protect myself, to protect others. It happens, it always happens. Am I bad? Do you think that I’ll always go feral because of my magic?” She could feel the tears starting to poke at the corners of her eyes. “If you want to like, make me see where you’re coming from, can’t you try and see where I am? What I’m trying to say? That there are other things, like me and you, that hurt people, innocent people.” Okay, so maybe the people Van hurt (aside from Diana) hadn’t been so innocent, but that wasn’t something she was willing to touch on, she was trying to prove a point. “I know I need to like, chill on the hate train for you,” she didn’t hate her, never could, but god she was so angry, “but it’s so hard when you admitted to hurting people for just existing as they were. It’s fucked up, Jade. Really, really, really fucked up.” The flood of tears was no match for the way she wiped her face with her arm. It came away glossy, and slightly stained with black eyeliner. Stupid fake waterproof makeup.
—
Jade had no intention of pushing further after Van’s admission. Cool, so she would also go the distance to defend a friend in need. Cause yup, that was a totally normal reaction. She nodded, happy that she wasn’t totally crazy for thinking that at least. Relieved that despite their current dispute, they could agree on that front. Cause Van was the friend who opened portals to save friends from banshees and feral vampires, and Jade loved her exactly for that.
But Van was still pissed at her, and frustrated (right? Was that what the facepalm meant?) so her sharp words were expected. Familiar, once again. Not from Van, mind you. But from others. Those who had walked away from her before. Jade was so used to it that she wasn’t rattled. But she was surprised by the question that followed. Did Regan know? Why wouldn’t she know? She knew even before they admitted their feelings for each other. But also, Van and Regan were nothing like the undead she hunted, what was she talking about? The air she was gonna use to interject Van’s argument only reached her lungs, cause whoops, Van quickly amended her words. And, she was right on the money too.
They were so not the same.
Except Van’s tone was definitely one of disagreement with that statement. It was dripping with sarcasm. And it was also wrapped with a little bow of assumptions. Jade let out a weary sigh, shaking her head. She did not think they were all bad, (cause wasn’t that like a super arbitrary moral judgment anyway? What was bad for her was good for others and vice versa) But dangerous? Dangerous was a fact, dangerous resulted in deaths, which not everybody seemed to be able to make the distinction. And she did not despise them for simply existing or whatever else people jumped to conclusions when they decided to get into this conversation with her. She was almost expecting Van to tack on a ‘simple-minded’ as well, another buzzword from previous arguments, cause most people did not think her nuanced enough to be able to see the whole picture, to empathize with their suffering (she’d seen it in their eyes, how could she not?), and still know there were billion others to protect from their bloodlust.
(A kindness. It’s a kindness, baby, Ruby’s voice echoed with distortion) (Wasn’t death merciful compared to the alternative? To the horror of losing yourself to a monster? Didn’t she want to be kind? And fair and…)
She let the question rewarding Regan go unanswered. Jade didn’t wanna ruin their relationship by dragging her into this. It was between her and Van.
And… Maybe she should actually answer her siblings' call tomorrow, instead of ghosting them like she had been for a week now, under different circumstances (unpredictable orders, dates with Regan). Maybe she should let them set her straight when it came to all this discourse. She would be renewed, a new sense of conviction pulsing through her, and she’d be equipped with better answers. Answers that would appease Van. (That was what she wanted, right?)
But Jade stared at Van, listening as she spoke. Trying to pick up new meanings behind arguments she’d heard time and time again. Van’s suggestion wasn’t new either, but Jade didn’t jump with a ‘well, actually’. She waited. Maybe for the first time. Giving the undead a chance was a step too late. But she had also been there, done that. She had given Metzli a chance to try their luck at being a good monster. She had given Ariadne one as well, hoping there wouldn’t be a second accident. Did that make her look good in Van’s eyes? How? Why would Van want her to be a failure? Why would Van value her more when she was imperfect than when she was capable? Her siblings loved her when she fulfilled her duty. Their eyes never brimmed with more pride than when she succeeded. Why wouldn’t Van want that for her? (Why didn’t anybody else?)
She opened her mouth, knowing that agreeing with Van could’ve been an olive branch-type situation, but her stubbornness was rock solid in her throat, preventing her from humbling herself. From admitting she had failed to fulfill her duty. From admitting to her doubts, from admitting that this was a more complicated equation in her head than it used to be a year ago. She grew defensive once again. Cause all of this felt a whole lot like being asked to do the dishes when you were already planning to. She was already having her moral crisis, thank you for chiming in! She was not gonna get done any faster cause someone was hovering behind her.
She wondered, briefly, if Regan would be disappointed in her choices. (She shot that thought down immediately. Cause one spiral was enough for the night).
It wasn’t all lost, though. And it did feel like pulling teeth to even get to this point, but she shook her head. Jade could concede that claiming bad things would always , a hundred percent of time happen, was maybe, too pessimistic. “I don’t know that, no…” but like, Van didn’t know if every undead spared was safe either. Wasn’t it better, to prevent catastrophes? Why should she play with fire like that? Leave that option open. She vaguely recalled touching on prevention recently. Was it with Van, or Wynne, or Emilio or Regan? Either way, she didn’t think it had been a particularly winning argument in the past.
Van believed there was a way to come back from the bad stuff. Did she really believe that, or was she vouching for her own mistakes? Or for Jade’s? Or Maybe for Regan’s? Or Cass’? Or Nora’s? She resisted Van’s claim. (Why?) (Why did it feel wrong? Why couldn't she simply agree and get Van back?) Cause… not really, could undead ever be truly harmless when they had a hunger they would never be able to control no matter how much they wished to? (So why did she let Metlzli go, in that case?). Jade armored herself with the same old answers, but wielded none. Not cause she didn’t believe them. She did! She was right. It wasn’t the same… It so wasn’t. Apples and oranges!
(Except)
She was transported to that moment, on the side road, trying to comfort Nora. Talking about good intentions, wishing someone would see hers.
It wasn’t the same. Nope. She couldn't judge undead intentions with the same bar she judged humans. Except. (Why did this argument keep popping up?)
Except... she would willingly forgive and ignore and even encourage whatever confessions might come out of Van’s mouth at any given moment, right? Except, when Regan said she had pushed her evil granny to the pit damning her to die, Jade cheered. Except, no matter what mistakes Emilio made, she would still excuse him and she would still find ways to annoy him in the same loving way. (It was a testament to how much her friendships had diminished in the past months that she could only come up with three examples). So…
So. (?)
It wasn’t the same. But wasn't it? (?) Shouldn't it be? It should.
(?)
Breakthroughs, unfortunately, didn’t come with a follow-up manual. Or like a tutorial. It was just energy zapping her brain alight, adrenaline cursing through her, making her wanna take a lap when she’d never liked running in the first place. It was her belly threatening to empty its content from all the jitters. But whatever she was on the brink of, whatever new tune she was trying to pick up could easily be turned off the second she got on the phone with her siblings. It was there, though, wasn’t it? Incomplete lyrics dancing somewhere in her head, exciting new bassline beating in her heart, intriguing melody thrumming under her skin. She nodded, maybe it would’ve been better if Van didn’t know Jade was a slayer. Yup. Cause then, maybe, Jade could’ve kept believing everything she had been taught since she was a kid was the indisputable truth.
And oh, conversations didn’t suddenly stop just cause one’s beliefs were suddenly against the ropes. Or like, fighting against the knockout bell. (She really should’ve paid more attention when Jasper forced her to watch ESPN). Jade frowned, baffled at Van’s question. “You’re not bad” It was a reflex. Proving how innate it was for her to be in Van's corner, always. And well, kinda proving that… she could be lenient with other people’s wrongdoings as long as they had a beating heart, right? Her hands balled into a fist, noticing the tears prickling in Van’s eyes. She couldn’t do this. Not with Van crying. Cause if Van cried, Jade was gonna do something stupid like trying to reach out for her. And Van, who was pissed at her, could like, make a portal swallow her. And wouldn’t that be all kinds of messed up? She had to get back home to Regan. She couldn’t just… go on a little hell hole side quest. So she stepped back, pushing herself against the wall, hoping that would stop her from comforting someone who didn’t like her anymore.
Van wanted her to see her side, which was a lot like Wynne’s side. Jade had a glimpse of it in The Creamatorum. She had admired Wynne’s naivety (not even in a shady condescending way, she totally envied that they hadn’t had to think about vampires that much before). And she saw it now too. From Van’s perspective. But like, it did hit a little different now, though. After Wynne, after Siobhan, currently with Van. And… would Van understand her side? Probably not. Not if she didn’t like, start from the beginning. If she didn’t drop a few juicy flashbacks. If she didn’t divulge what she’d seen, what had been done to her (hypothetically) to shape her into a half-decent slayer. Was she willing? To start from the beginning? To open some compartments? To remember? The scar above her eyebrow stung, which was so weird cause why would it do that?
Not yet, then. Her heart curled up protectively (figure of speech) (she didn’t think hearts could do that. But she would have to ask Regan). And… she kept fumbling her opportunities to patch this up fully. Or like, at least get going. And oh, right… Van thought what Jade had to do was messed up. So really, no chance for them to see each other’s sides, then. Would she think of it so messed up if she knew Erin could’ve died in the hands of spawns a few months ago?
Actually, scratch that. Seeing tears rolling down Van’s cheek might actually be a lifeline. Jade exhaled, shaky, tired. She focused on what Van knew. Which was… Jade showing up with blood all over her shirt, talking through the shock of a bullet wound about stuff that Van had probably never heard of before. And sure, defensiveness still simmered inside her chest, cause… all Jade had wanted was the benefit of the doubt, but it was quickly overpowered by the immense onrush of guilt. And shame and… She bowed her head, mostly so she could stop seeing Van’s tears splashing on her Sly Slice shirt. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t all up here,” Jade touched her temple. “Not when I went after the farmer. Or when I talked to you… not that entire month, actually”. At the time, the idea of righting herself the way Regan had by leaving for Ireland sounded all kinds of genius. But it ended up being more like, no thoughts, head empty kinda thing, didn’t it?
There was a tremor in her voice when she spoke again, but maybe it was all in her imagination. Maybe it was just her resolve that trembled. “You want me to give undead a chance…” I have would not leave her lips, again. Cause why would she boast about her failures? “But what if… what if the undead I give the chance to ends up…” She didn’t think she had to voice the scenario for Van to imagine what she was implying. “What if…giving everybody a chance ends up in too many mistakes? What if… it’s a slippery slope?”
—
Van had tried to imagine how this conversation would go a dozen times over. Maybe more than a dozen times– maybe hundreds. Her dreams were filled with sightings of Jade, of the other woman’s laughter, of the smell of her bike’s exhaust fumes. Van would put on her helmet and hold onto Jade as she revved forward, and they’d experience all of the things that Van loved about Wicked’s Rest together. They would reach out to Regan after, and Thea, and maybe Nora. Cass would be there, too. All of her friends would be, and Van wouldn’t need to worry about Jade possibly killing somebody that she cared about. She wouldn’t need to worry about it at all, because Jade finally understood.
But that wasn’t what was happening. Instead, Van was standing on the other side of it all, iron branding beneath her tongue as she tried to outweigh the negatives on Jade’s behalf. All Van wanted was for Jade to see her side, and maybe that was asking too much. Maybe Van had deluded herself into thinking that people would actually listen to her and consider her opinions. She was seen as a kid by so many, after all. The tears definitely didn’t happen, and neither did the catastrophic magic (at least, to those who knew of its existence).
She thought of Regan’s expression, of the darkness to her eyes. She thought of the fear that enveloped her as she ran away after melting the chair, of how they hadn’t been able to talk about it until after Regan came back from Ireland, and even then, Van wasn’t sure that what they did was even truly talk about it.
But if Van could talk to somebody like Regan who had showed actual anger towards her, then why couldn’t she talk (and trust) that Jade would have those kinds of discussions with her, especially when Jade had never really shown anger.
Van’s fingers grew numb as she clenched her fists. She stared at Jade, trying to reimage her as the woman that she had looked up to, once upon a time. Her chest ached with the thought that she’d never feel that way again. Van could understand that there were some bad on the other side of this, that not everyone deserved a chance, but why was that one person’s decision. What if they learned from their mistakes? What if they found some kind of retribution?
“Why do you get to decide that? You could say the same about me, about me deciding that they get a chance, but why do you get to decide that they don’t?” To color them all as the same evil was disingenuous and Van knew that. Because the evil she’d seen wasn’t particularly clear cut, and sometimes it evolved into something else, into something less than evil and more kind than not. “Isn’t it a slippery slope just killing people?” Van kept her voice quiet, hopeful that the cooks inside of the kitchen wouldn’t be able to hear their banter.
“And don’t– don’t use not being here,” Van pointed to her own temple after wiping away some more of the free falling tears, “as an excuse, because that’s not fair.” She’d been told to be responsible for her action or inaction, even when upset, so why was it that Jade was going to try and use that as an excuse? Maybe it was okay, but Van wasn’t going to unpack that right now. Her mother and grandmother’s voice echoed around in her head telling her to take accountability for her actions, and so Van echoed their sentiments as she spoke to Jade. “Not everything is bad, and not everything is good, and I know that, I’m not saying that it is, but why do you get to make the decision on what is or what isn’t, especially before even seeing it?” Van knew she should’ve been angry at the person who hurt Jade, but they were defending themselves, and after Jade had explained that they were undead, wasn’t there a lot worse they could’ve done than just shoot her? Didn’t that say something about them?
“It’s nobody’s choice. None of this is, and I think– I don’t think everything is all bad or all good, but you can’t decide that before it’s even been proven. Innocent before guilty, right? That’s what it is?” She had gotten the saying wrong, but she figured Jade would know the point she was trying to make. She felt like such an adult, having this conversation– arguing over morality or lack thereof. It felt strange, being on this side of things.
“You told me they’re people like us, and you still make that decision to hurt them, and I think that says a lot more about you than it does about them.” Maybe some of the beings Jade referenced did deserve to be taken down, but why did she get to choose that? Shouldn’t there be some higher cosmic being? Something other than a woman with a lopsided smile and a weird fascination with a woman paler than the moon?
—
“I don’t get to decide,” It left her lips before she had a chance to bite it down the way she’d learned to. The way her sister taught her. Her heart jumped to her throat, horrified by her lie. Ashamed she would even say something like that. (It was a lie, it was!). She chose this. This was her decision. Her calling. So Jade did decide it. Didn’t she? Didn’t the choices start so early, with her training? Like… the hours (so it wouldn’t get in the way of her favorite cartoons), the fit (that one pink jacket with the sparkly belt to holster the knives), the hairstyle (a brain so the blood wouldn’t get in there as much), or the snack afterwards! (choccy milk and cookies never hit harder than post stabbing). And when Onyx brought her her very first vampire as a birthday present, she got to choose which stake to plunge into his chest (which did make the crying stop before she could hyperventilate, so!). And later, she got to choose the crossbow as her preferred weapon, and so on…
She chose. She loved making choices, so much. Maybe that momentary slip up was just like, The Powers That Be testing the waters, sending out early screeners of this new Jade to see what the audience thought about the development. Maybe she didn’t have to say that ever again. She didn’t want to. And she definitely didn’t want Van to think she was like, a mindless sexy puppet like Siobhan thought, so… clarified as soon as her heart stopped hammering. “I choose… what’s best for humankind,” it felt weak even as it came out but, better than… that other thing. And nope, she didn’t wanna think about Regan asking where in her list of priorities that left the Jade of it all. She wasn’t supposed to be selfish like that. Not with this.
Part of her was kinda glad she’d already made a stop at Siobhan’s a few weeks ago. Cause the second Van uttered the word kill in reference to her job, Jade almost saw herself fumbling, rushing to point out the biology of undead. They weren't alive. Come on…Why wasn’t Jade arguing that? It wasn’t a lie, but was it true? They were… not dead either.
And while for Van it was a slippery slope if she killed undead people, the same didn’t hold up for the undead who also killed people? Those Jade had to be lenient with? Van was willing to give people she didn’t know, hypothetical undead, the benefit of the doubt. But not her? Still not her. That stung. Not that she let that show in her face. Cause she had to stay focused on the convo and in the arguments she needed to counteract. This wasn’t her first rodeo, in fact, this was more like an endless game of “no you”, and even Van was catching on. Whatever argument she threw Jade’s way she could’ve turned in the opposite direction. And Jade had played that game so many times that she thought she’d forever have the stamina for it. Except… she wasn’t sure if that was true anymore either.
“But…” It seemed like Van didn’t want an explanation for what went down during the time she unraveled. Jade also thought it wasn’t fair, but probably for different reasons. Excuses weren’t the same as explanations, were they? Cause excusing her actions meant she regretted them at least in some way, or that… what she’d done was wrong. (She wasn’t wrong. She was right). In reality, she would’ve hunted those undead anyway, just… not wilding the way she did that month. Did she regret going after Monty? Not really. She regretted showing up with a bullet hole and traumatizing Van. That sensation she still felt deep in her belly any time she was reminded of it. And did she regret targeting Ariadne or hurting Wynne? Did she regret taunting Mack, or was she revolted that she had to escalate the violence to levels she’d never used before? Nope, it wasn’t an excuse, cause Jade didn’t think she needed to excuse her actions, only the aftermath. She was a slayer, it was her duty. (And finally! Someone hit play on the old tracks. The classics!) (They didn’t… slap quite as hard as they used to before though, did they?)
“But, that’s not… that’s what you want me to do! What Wynne and Emilio and… You all want me to judge. I can’t judge.” Cause Jade wasn’t a judge. (Or a weapon. Or an instrument. Or a puppet) “I have to act. I have to protect. Isn’t that worse? To look at someone, ask for their record and decide how many mistakes is too many? To stake the one who killed six but let the one with five kills go by some… some arbitrary rule?” If that was the case, Metzli being dust should’ve been justified. Or Mack, for that matter. And very possibly, the gay cowboy doing nefarious stuff at Prickly Pear. Didn’t they all have concerning body counts? But people still resisted her going after them. She was pretty sure Van would too, whether Jade had in fact seen it or not.
Even she let Metzli go, duh, cause Jade got soft and bought into the whole ‘attempting to be a good monster’ era. Just like she bought that Ariadne would have others to keep her in check. Exceptions. (Those were exceptions for a reason). What if being selective, what if the judging Van and Wynne and Emilio wanted her to do led to even worse decisions? What if it led to the people she loved getting seriously hurt? Why was she supposed to think about the threat’s feelings when she was raised to think of the victims? (And were those... Still the correct terms?)
But she’d thought about undead feelings plenty too. (Cause they were victims once too). She knew Ariadne shouldn’t have been terrorized to death by some amoral mare going after a teenager. She knew Mack shouldn’t have had her career destroyed by a zombie. She knew Metzli’s shouldn’t have been someone’s pawn for a century, used as nothing but a killing machine. She’d thought about them… as the humans they had been before. And cause she’d thought of them from that perspective, she knew there was mercy in what she had to do. She couldn’t have anyone convince her otherwise.
“Innocent until proven guilty,” Jade nodded, understanding what Van was trying to say. Metzli was not innocent though, neither was Mack. Or Ariadne. Which made Van’s reasoning hard to agree with. (Boy it was tough, trying to peek through the blinds, when all her life her siblings closed them the second she got curious to see what else was out there). “And if I go after someone guilty you love, what then? Isn’t that a whole other mess?” She should write down these scenarios in a napkin and make up her own little code. “I won’t, by the way. If you cared for them, I wouldn’t,” she figured it was best to clarify the question was like, rhetorical. She’d already pulled the plug on some hunts cause Emilio and Regan cared for the undead in question. (There was a big, unless they’re a serial killer unspoken that she thought would be better left for another time).
But… she nibbled on that concept some more, glancing down at her boots, tracing the outline of the blade she had strapped on the outside of her shin. She didn’t recall referring to undead as people like them (humans). What was that? Not a Freudian slip cause there was nothing weirdly sexual about it. But something. Kinda like how some drunk people got super blunt and honest. A lapse? She wasn’t gonna say that she didn’t mean it, obviously. Cause then what? Van would wanna talk to her even less. Why did she say it?
She felt smaller than usual. There was a familiar vibe about all of this, though. It was like a throwback. Wasn’t it so normal to be chastised? Back home there was always someone berating her about terrible posture or technique or whatever. She held her voice, like she'd learned, waiting for Van to say her peace. For the first time since she’d arrived in Wicked's Rest, she felt like that kid her siblings continued trying to shape into something, anything, worthy of their last name. Only just… in the other direction. She would’ve been a little uncomfy that it was someone so much younger than her doing it. But it was Van. And Van had always had pretty solid takes about most things, right?
So back to the conundrum being posed for her. If an undead being (with no proven kills) wanted to continue living their horrors, if they were okay with leaving their humanity behind as the decades passed then… then that was their choice, Jade could… stay out of the way. At least. “I can… work with innocent until proven guilty.” For now. Until she returned to California. Until she was free from people who wanted her to be a failure and she was back with the ones who saw the potential she had to be good.
And in the distance? The growing dissonance between what she was, what she was supposed to be and what she wanted to be, not quite soaring, but picking up an eerie crescendo that reached her ears. (Or maybe it was a metallic tray that one of the cooks had just dropped on the ground).
“And what does it say about me?” She sighed, looking up at Van. She seemed pretty certain of her words, so maybe she could help Jade (who was not a judge, or a weapon, or an instrument, or a puppet) find the secret fifth option.
—
I don’t get to decide.
Wasn’t that the messed up part about all of this? That choices were almost always out of their hands? That even if Jade insisted she wasn’t the one making the choice, her actions eventually made it clear that the choice was hers to begin with? Was that how it went? Was it really that easy? It wasn’t, and Van knew that. She knew it wasn’t that simple, because if it were, then the sinking feeling she felt would finally dislodge itself from the pit of her stomach. It might travel elsewhere, to the burn of anxiety, or the threads of magic that ran through her and manifest into something bigger, something worse. Was that how it was for Jade? That her something, her ‘magic,’ was constantly tugging, constantly threading itself through her like a wire, making every move that much more isolating?
Because that’s what it seemed like, but if Van thought about it under those terms, then it became easier to understand Jade, and she didn’t like that. She didn’t want to be aligned with somebody who took the lives of others just because they had something happen to them. How was it for others, others that were born the way they were? Were there people like Jade who came after people like her? What would Jade say to that? That they were doing their duty? She had gotten close to the question, but hadn’t yet pulled the trigger on it, terrified about what the answer could be.
“Humankind.” That word stung, because was she even human? She felt human, in the grand scheme of things— knew her life to be meaningless beyond what those who were close to her thought to be important, and knew that compared to somebody like Cass or Nora, she was nothing, but humankind still left a bitter taste in her mouth. “People like them, because they’re people like us, they don’t— they don’t deserve that ending.” They deserved a chance, just like everyone else. Whose right was it to choose death versus dignity? Was she in the wrong for fighting for the opposite side?
“It’s not about that, Jade!” Van nearly tossed her phone from her hands as she flung them into the air. She caught it from falling, but it clattered against the counter as she slapped it down to prevent it from going all the way down. “It’s not like that, and you know I’m not saying that— that’s what you’re making up, that’s not what I’m asking of you!” It was simply about not killing anyone. She knew that there were people, things— whatever way you wanted to look at it, deserved to be pinned to the earth for the wrongs they had committed, or rather, beneath it, but why make that decision based on what they were alone? It was cheap, and Van thought Jade was better than that. Had convinced herself that she hung the moon and the stars, and for what? To find out she was a killer? For no other reason than the fact that something had happened to them? To prevent it from happening to somebody else?
“I care about everything, everyone. Don’t go— don’t go after anyone.” Would it work like that? Would Jade take that to heart? The next time she was standing over somebody, stake in hand (ala Buffy), would she recall this conversation? Would the smell of marinara hang in the air, and would she have that same sad and distant look on her face? The kind of expression that told Van she was trying to keep the emotions at bay?
But to her surprise, Jade seemed to… what, fall back on her heels? Van hadn’t anticipated that. She swallowed thickly, felt the iron slide down her throat. It left a tang on her tongue that she needed to get rid of. She quickly picked up the off brand orange soda and sucked it down, wincing as the sweetness mixed with the sour taste on her tongue. “That you’re afraid of things you don’t understand. I can get that. I can understand that.”
She wanted to elaborate, wanted to give Jade… maybe not the benefit of the doubt, but something close to it— an exception that was closely monitored, maybe. However, the rush of a crowd, and the swinging of doors meant she had to pour her energy into something else. She quickly wiped away the tears and snapped her gaze over to the people who filed in, laughter filling the air.
It was strange, living in worlds that were so clearly different from one another.
She didn’t offer Jade another glance as she turned her attention fully to the customers, “what can I get for you?”
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Skate to me, baby. (Part 2) - Harry x Ice Skater!Y/N
Summary: Regionals is a few weeks away, distractions need to be minimal but when Harry's around, that might be difficult for Y/N.
word count: 2k
warnings: swearing, arguing between maisy and h, mentions of sexual acts (blink and you’ll miss it) mostly fluffy shiiii between y/n and h :)
"What do you think of my form, Mark?" Maisy said as she skated with one leg up, wobbling on purpose. He skated over and grabbed her leg with one hand and held her diaphragm with the other.
"Not bad, Maisy. You just need to let loose, you seem too tense." He winks, completely disregarding Harry standing there, arms crossed.
"I'm gonna do some stuff over there, you two keep flirting." Harry says eye rolling before he slowly skates away.
You walked into the arena, warm up outfit on and found a spot to leave your stuff while they finished their private lesson. You lift your leg up to tighten your laces and looked over at Harry, skating like bambi on the ice. You smirk and put your leg down, walking onto the ice and gliding over to him.
"Y/N!" He exclaims but he loses his balance and quickly grips the edge of the wall. You giggle as you stop in front of him.
"Hey, Harry. You need a hand?" You extend your hand out to him and he takes it.
"Thanks. My instructor is busy with his star student." He gestures to Maisy and Mark, both skating together and talking. You eye roll and Harry raises a brow.
"Penny for your thoughts?" He smirks, leaning his elbows on the edge of the rink.
"Mark's my ex. Also a giant flirt, I would watch your girlfriend if I were you, he's a pretty big player." You cross your arms and continue.
"Skaters shouldn't date other skaters. I had a busy schedule with my content and competitions, he used that as an opportunity to sleep with his students." You looked over at Harry, his eyes wide and you cupped your mouth.
"I'm... so sorry. I'm venting to you but you’re probably uncomfortable with me opening up like this.”
"Don’t be sorry, Y/N. Since you’re opening up I will too. Maisy and I, we... we don't have the same love we had for each other when we first started dating. I truly sometimes feel obligated to stay with her because she’s under a lot of pressure. Her family is very persistent with her being successful in something. After failing at fencing, ballet, singing... yikes." He chuckles and you smile softly. "She stepped on the ice and loved it... now we take private lessons every Wednesday."
"I'm guessing you don't like being here?" You looked over at him and he stared ahead at Maisy and Mark.
"I didn't..." He looks over at you.
"But now I do."
He smiles at you and you bite the inside of your lip to try to stop the flush from invading your face.
3pm.
"Harry!! LETS GO!" You both snap your heads in her direction and she has her arms crossed, skating over to us shooting daggers at you.
"You didn't get much of a lesson, Harry. I'm sorry for preoccupying you." You push off the ledge and he grabs your wrist to turn you around.
"Hey, Mais?" He says still looking at you.
"What?"
"I'll call a car. I'm gonna stick around and finish my lesson with Y/N." He looks back at you and smiles.
"Oh no. No, no, no, NO. Not happening." Maisy reaches for Harry and for some reason you pull him towards you, causing Maisy to almost fall on the ground. She looks up at you, ready to burn your soul.
"I don't mind giving you an extra 15 minutes of lessons since Mark was a little busy prioritizing Maisy." You smile at Maisy and she rolls her eyes.
"Whatever. We'll talk about this at home, Harry." She skates over to the carpet, arms crossed the entire way into the locker room.
You were shocked at yourself, you were never this assertive, EVER. You look up at Harry, a look of relief on his face as he watches Maisy walk out the door. You feel a smirk form on his face.
"You owe me." You elbow Harry and he laughs. "I owe you my life, Miss Y/L/N. That girl is...."
"Something." You let slip. You smack your mouth with your hand and thankfully, he laughs.
"Definitely. Anyways, you don't have to give me any lessons or anything. I just wanted an excuse to watch you do your routine to my song again. Did I tell you that your technique was pretty perfect?" He smirks.
"I mean, you did tell me I was pretty." You winked and skated into centre ice. He chuckles. "Won't let that go, huh?" You smirk. "No, Mr. Styles. You said it yourself." You smile and reach your arm out. "Now come on, let's skate."
He stomps over to you and you snort at his little marches. "Hey! I'm still an amateur!" He says pouting. You laugh at him approaching you and he smirks. "Take my hands." You hold your hands out and he grabs them. Immediately you feel an electric shock and you pull your hands away.
"You okay?" He asks concerned. "Y-yeah, sorry, you just shocked me." You faked a smile but on the inside you were screaming ‘What the hell was that?’
"Okay, I'm going to skate backwards, all I want you to do is glide your feet left and right, left and right, just like this okay? I won't let you go until you have the groove locked in.”
He followed your instructions well and before you knew it, you let go and he was skating.
"That's it! You're doing grea- Oh, Harry! The wall! I didn't teach you to-" Harry slammed into the wall of the rink and you flinched as he coughed from being winded but shot you a thumbs up.
"Next lesson, we'll work on braking." You giggle as you help him over to the carpet.
"Thanks for this, Y/N. I'm sorry for taking time away from your practicing."
You smile. "I'm not. This was fun. Like teaching my 5 year olds I used to teach as a principal skater." You wink and he laughs. "I'm just gonna order my uber and take my stuff off in the stands here, you cool if I watch?"
You nod and grab your remote from the ledge and skate to the centre of the ice, playing the song once again.
Harry watched you hit every move one after the other, in complete awe of you.
Two weeks of knowing you and he was hooked. He was already counting down the days till he would get to see you again. Even with a girlfriend waiting at home, he was too excited about his new friendship with you that he completely forgot that Maisy left angrily and that he would be in for a rude awakening once he got dropped off.
As Harry pulled up to their shared home, he was dreading the yelling he was going to hear from Maisy about you. He knew how Maisy got, especially about other women being friends with him but you were different, he wasn't going to let her dictate his friendship with you.
He walked in and immediately saw Maisy standing there, robe on, hair up, and snarl big as ever.
"What. the FUCK. were you thinking today, Harry? Letting me drive home ALONE so you could skate around with that slut? She's clearly using you to get ahead. Yeah maybe she thinks you're hot but she looks like the type that would use a guy like you."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Y/N is a nice girl, Mais. Why are you acting like this? You don't see me protesting about Mark, huh? I see how you two interact at lessons i'm not fucking stupid."
Maisy's eyes grow wide at Harry's comment. "Are you insinuating something, Harry?"
"Maisy, everyone with eyes can see that you two are fucking flirting, RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME." Harry walks past Maisy but she grabs his wrist.
"Don't walk away from me, I'm not done." He shakes off her hand. "Yeah, well I am, Mais. I'm going to take a shower. Don't follow me." Harry walks the stairs and leaves an angry Maisy at the foyer aggravated and whining because he didn't let her get her way.
Harry turns the hot water on and just stands in there for a couple minutes, contemplating things. Mostly his relationship with Maisy. Why was he doing this to himself when both of them weren't happy? Why is he still with someone who won't even let him spend 15 minutes with a friend without freaking out. He didn't like who his girlfriend was becoming.
Once clean and hair was washed, he walked out and changed into his grey sweats and a black fitted tank before jogging downstairs for dinner. He walked into the dining room, seeing Maisy sat at one end of the table, being served dinner and rolling her eyes at what was served.
"Of course. After you gaslit me as soon as you walked in, Chef makes YOUR favourite dinner."
He looked down and saw sweet chilli prawn rice bowls with pineapples and brussel sprouts. He smiled and walked over to Maisy's chef to shake his hand. "Chef, you didn't have to cook my favourite. Anything would've sufficed. Thank you so much."
Chef smiled. "Anything for our favourite guy."
Maisy groaned. "Stop kissing my staff's ass, Harry. You should be kissing mine after the stunt you pulled today."
Harry sat down in his seat, taking a bite of his bowl and enjoying it before responding.
"I'll keep telling you Maisy, Y/N offered to help me with my lesson that got cut short because you decided to eye fuck Mark instead of focusing on skating."
She rolled her eyes. "Please, I know her intentions aren't that innocent."
"Can you back off Y/N? You don't even know this girl, Maisy. Let it go."
She rolls her eyes again. "Am I not good enough, Harry?"
He chokes on his bite and clears his throat. "You're kidding me right? Y/N is my friend, Maisy. What the hell are you thinking?"
"She's not ugly, Harry. I can see how you looked at her when you talked to her. Am I not satisfying you?" She crossed her arms.
Harry finished his last bite and wiped his mouth clean. "I'm not having this conversation at the dinner table, Mais. Thank you for the meal, Chef. I appreciate it." Harry grabs his plate and Chef stops him. "We will clean up after you Mr. Styles, please, don't worry about it."
Harry always felt guilty watching the staff gifted by Maisy's parents work and do tasks that he and Maisy were fully capable of doing. He would never get used to watching people clean and cook for him.
As Harry made his way up to the bedroom, Maisy immediately followed behind, slamming the door behind her.
"Harry, you're MY boyfriend. I don't want you spending time with Y/N anymore. I don't trust her."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Not this time, Mais. She's my friend, deal with it or dump me. Clearly we aren't happy anymore so why fake it?"
Maisy's mouth closes and her eyes look up at Harry, becoming glossy.
"Are you crying? REALLY?" Harry crosses his arms and Maisy blinks, tears falling from her eyes.
"You.. don't love me anymore, Harry?"
Harry's face softened and he let his arms down. "We're not happy, Mais. When was the last time we didn't argue? Truthfully I don't remember. I don't think you want this anymore."
Maisy walked over to the bed and wiped her tears.
"Harry, you love me. You haven't denied it at all. You still love me and you-you're not leaving me. Please, don't leave me."
Harry sighs and walks over to the bed. "Mais."
"Let me show you how much I love you, Harry." She crawls closer to Harry, kissing his lips ever so slightly, Harry immediately pulling away but Maisy taking his face in her hands again and pulling him in deeper, this time, Harry not stopping her.
He was sick of the fighting and making up he and Maisy always did but in this moment he was so over arguing that he would do anything to deter from that.
The problem this time? It's not Maisy he's thinking about while she's under the covers, taking in his length.
It's Y/N.
-----
.... well.
toxic relationships, am i right?
part 3 is in writing as we speak :)
Y/N and Harry won't get together for awhile so don't get your hopes up ;)
love yall xoxo
#harry styles#harry styles fluff#harry styles blurb#harry styles series#harry styles imagines#harry styles imagine#harry x fem!reader#harry x y/n#harry x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles writing#harry styles masterlist#hs#hs one shot#hs fanfic#hs imagine#hs x reader#hs x y/n#lexi speaks#lexi writes
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
Full List of OLOS Chapter 2 Adaptations, References, Explanations and More (Game & Fic Spoilers!)
Warning: This exhaustive list will hold your hand and treat you as someone who remembers next to nothing about the game. There is a focus on explaining writing decisions of events / character actions / story beats and worldbuilding.
The silo-building materials are based on the listed resource requirements in-game. However, I kept the build time vague because I assume two days of completion is pushing it for one person to do alone.
The Mountain Road family heads to the Stardrop Saloon every Friday as part of their “family night,” referencing the part of Robin, Demetrius, and Sebastian’s schedule where they can be found at the Saloon during that day all year. Maru on the other hand is never actually seen in the Saloon, at most hanging out with Penny (who has an aversion to alcohol) on the bench outside, but I needed to characterize the family a certain way, and thus.
Robin mentions Maru liking the cauliflowers Reza once brought based on her canon giftable Likes.
Demetrius’ mushroom cave project with Reza is referencing one of the two options available in-game to customize the small cave found in the farm.
Reza is tasked with taking care of the Community Center by submitting bundles as per the game, where the Community Center and consequently the “Rat Problem” quest is unlocked from Spring 5th onwards. All sequences involving the Junimos and Rasmodius are based on related cutscenes and quests.
While opening the door to the Community Center, Reza mutters, “In the name of Yoba,” referencing the Arabic phrase, “Bismillahir Rahmanir Raheem.” I’m very loosely basing the faith in Yoba off some customs of the Abrahamic religions I’m familiar with, while still trying to maintain that earthly primordial feel / aesthetic the game already sets up. I myself was raised in an interfaith Muslim-Balinese Hindu household (though my actual alignment might get me in trouble lol (for legal reasons this is a joke and I didn’t mean anything blasphemous)), and would often hear the use of “Bismillah” from Muslim family members whenever they are about to do something that requires strength, patience, or courage.
Haley forgetting Reza’s name is based on one of her regular Winter dialogue, then Two-Hearts and Four-Hearts Events — instances where she doesn’t recall the farmer’s name very well.
Alex talking about the beach and wishing there were more girls in town are taken from one of his regular Spring dialogue.
Lewis saying that Reza can expect to receive something from “the Fund” is a reference to a type of repeatable mail in the game sent by Lewis that includes 500G of money from the Stardew Valley Agricultural Fund.
The Stardew Valley Tribune doing a story on Reza’s farm is based on the in-game event / mail achieved after earning 27,000G.
Alex’s dismissive “What, you wanna talk to me? I’m busy,” is taken from one of his regular Spring dialogue.
Alex not remembering Reza’s name and trying to guess it is based on one of his regular Fall dialogues where he tries guessing the farmer’s name with other names that start with the same letter.
Alex deciding against asking Reza to play catch is referencing a question he’d ask the player on a Wednesday. I think it’s asked in Spring, but I might be wrong. Alex’s excuse saying he was too sore to play is also based on his answer dialogue for when the player agrees to play.
As per the game, Alex visits Haley every Wednesday afternoon if the player has less than 6 hearts with both of them.
Reza’s mother and sister called him excitedly about the Tribune article in similar fashion to the mail the farmer receives from their mother / father after earning 32,000G.
The attendance of everybody else at the Saloon is based on the Saloon attendees in the game during Friday nights, with the exception of Maru, as stated earlier.
Clint keeping his attention on Emily references his canon feelings for her, as portrayed in his odd-year Flower Dance dialogue, odd-year Festival of Ice dialogue, “Clint’s Attempt” quest, and his Three-Hearts and Six-Hearts Events.
Once again, Reza’s branch of faith in Yoba traditionally prohibiting the consumption of alcohol is roughly based on the Islamic law on the matter. In my experience, I do know a number of Muslims who drink it themselves, including my own mother who does socially. I don’t mean to encourage devouts to do it, I’m just portraying things that do happen in real life. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ At the end of the day, humanity will always have free will.
Reza points out that Leah wears plaid despite my drawings of her depicting otherwise as it is one of the headcanons I have on her style, I just get lazy over drawing non-default / non-canon outfits. My illustrations aren’t meant to be more accurate than the text.
Alex’s pants compliment and bikini question towards Leah references one of his regular Summer dialogue reserved for female players. I think it makes sense for Leah to be the one experiencing it in the narrative seeing as just like the player character, she once held the role of a newcomer, and could be subject to Alex’s attempts at starting conversations.
Alex can be found at Dusty’s dog pen that evening, referencing his afternoon schedule for most of the year.
If there is any canon game information that needs correction, please let me know!
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
SORRY IVE BEEN GONE THE LAST TWO DAYS HAVE BEEN BUSY FOR ANY REASONS LIST OF UPDATES
-Me and my friends made buttons for Palestine and are doing a fundraiser hopefully for our local Palestinian org which is what I spent last night doing. I spent another couple hours on making more button designs and assets for Palestinian liberation zines and posts/posters/etc. will be posting on here
-the place we were looking into lied on their website about accepting guarantuers so we decided against it
-a friend messaged earlier this week by chance to ask if I was looking for an apartment so when it fell through I messaged them BC turns out they want queer disabled roommates guess what me and mason are. i have lived with her before in a high stress environment (working and staying at summer camp much of summer) so someone who I know is a good fit.
-the place is 759 a month!!! It's a small room but between mason and I it's affordable
-we toured today and sent out first month's rent and are moving in this week
-i find out Wednesday night my friend has an accidental litter of cats and they want them to go to someone they trust!!! And want to give us her for free BC they really trust us and mason already has all the supplies we need because he has a cat already.
-mason and I are officially uhauling despite not being lesbians in the traditional sense. we've known each other for five months and have been dating three but he's been staying at my now old place half of the week ish
-i got into a market to vend this month before rent is due again and a second event with a zine table
-an early childhood education job i applied for has me in the final two candidates and the other one just followed up saying they want references to move on to the next recruitment stage. Both are flexible enough I could still do school part time and could also take both BC one is a supply position that's choose your own schedule based on calls and is a daytime one, and the other is before and after school so morning and evening. no clue if i will get any of them
-my boss who i had basically threatened to quit if he didn't change my role and then borderline ghosts off and on and doesn't pay reliably HAS been starting to offer more shifts but some are too short notice.
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sun's gonna come back around, dust is gonna settle on solid ground; You've come too far to turn back now.
I slowed down on writing this past week because it has been a week! Quite possibly the craziest week of my whole year so far.
I ended up getting an ODAN on reserve last Monday, which was fine with me, except for the delays. First I was supposed to do an Albuquerque and then ended up doing an El Paso. The delays made me think, once again, how much better life would be once I moved and didn’t have to constantly worry about having help with my dogs.
Wednesday, scheduling assigned me a 4-day trip. I spent a solid couple of hours freaking out over it and then finally called out sick. The idea of working that trip literally made me sick to my stomach so I thought that was reasonable. Instead, I spend the day running errands, like getting supplies for my move at Target and getting a Stanley cup for my niece for her birthday. I got some packing done and eventually met my mom in Fort Worth for dinner at Game Theory. It was late and our options were limited. I finished the night at home with an Aperol spritz and a movie. I finally got up the courage to read a message James sent me weeks ago and we ended up messaging back and forth a bit. I felt like I was finally able to get some real closure from everything, knowing that it really wasn’t my fault. It meant so much to me that he took ownership of what he did wrong at the time and admitted that he was dealing with things that had nothing to do with me.
Thursday morning I got up early, got some work done, and went to NRH2O with my mom, sister, nieces, and nephew. We spent quite a few hours there in the water and I gave my niece, Charlotte her birthday present. She was so excited! After the water park we got Andy’s and then I headed home to the dogs.
On Friday, I went to my last yoga class in Fort Worth. Stephanie asked what my plans were for the weekend and I told her I was moving. She hugged me and told me that she would miss having me in class but hoped I’d visit sometimes. I told her that her class was one of the few things I’ll really miss living over there and plan to visit once in a while, especially when visiting my sister. It was one of my difficult moments of the week realizing that there was something I’d really miss.
After yoga, I ran to Costco for a couple things, stopped at Total Wine for more Aperol, and then ran to Mr. Poké for lunch. It was another long afternoon of packing.
We finally received a tentative agreement for our new contract but we have to vote on it and I will be voting no. The company could do better, and we deserve more than what they're currently offering.
By Saturday, I was in a weird mood where I knew I had a million things to do but I was also feeling a little sad and unmotivated to do anything. I got up early to go to the Clearfork Farmer’s Market, where I decided I couldn’t buy anything due to moving, and then went to Archie’s Gardenland where they had a cute café/permanent food truck called Heirloom. I got an early lunch and enjoyed time among the flowers before heading over to Daiso to pick up a few packing essentials.
My mom came to my house in the afternoon and we loaded up our cars and drove to my new house to drop off some things and leave one of my cars. My mom drove me back home after and we stopped at H-E-B to get sushi and then headed to the winery to listen to music.
Matt and I had planned on getting a U-Haul on Sunday but he was assigned standby duty so the plan was canceled. When I woke up Sunday morning though, Kia texted me asking about my move and I told her that Matt and I had to cancel so I was a little stressed out. Immediately, she called me and said she and her husband would come help me and to book the U-Haul so that they could pick it up on their way to my house. “Let’s get you moved!” is what she said and part of me didn’t even want to move at all that day but I knew I couldn’t turn down help.
I quickly loaded up as much as I could in my car and then my mom came over to help with some things. Kia, Mason, and Aleia showed up and we had a long, hot, crazy day of moving. We started around noon and didn’t get the truck fully loaded until around 5pm. My mom left a little early to go to my new house to drop stuff off and by the time I arrived, it was 6:20. I ran into my neighbors as soon as I parked my car and my landlord came over to bring a garage door remote until I could get the MyQ setup. I ordered us a pizza and took the dogs to their dog sitter by 7pm. The moving van arrived around 7:20pm and we started unloading. Unloading took us until about 11:30pm after we reassembled all of my furniture. Eric came over to help us unload, which was nice to have an extra set of hands.
My feet were black by the end of the day and I took a shower as soon as everyone left. I settled into bed, got some work done, and tried to fall asleep. As tired as I was, I had the hardest time falling asleep and didn’t even sleep as late as I had hoped.
Monday morning I felt super motivated to really start unpacking and organizing my kitchen. I unpacked all of the boxes that were in my kitchen to clear the countertops and even dragged a few boxes upstairs. I had a dentist appointment at 12:40pm so I drove across town for that and then immediately after drove the hour to my old house to do some cleaning and pack up some of the things left behind. Matt called me on my way over and offered to meet me so that we could get my bikes.
I got to the house around 2:30pm and Matt got there sometime around 3:30pm. We loaded up my car and packed it to the brim and then ran to Mr. Poké for yet another poké bowl before finishing up packing what we could in our cars. I felt like I got a lot cleaned and packed up but still couldn’t fit the last of it and didn’t get to pack everything in the fridge. I’m seriously dreading doing the trip again to get the rest.
I got back to my new house around 7pm and Matt got there shortly after. In the process of unloading my car, literally right after I got off the phone with Matt, I lost my phone. I kept pinging it and knew it was in my car but couldn’t find it anywhere. I thought I was losing my mind. When Matt got to my house, we literally had to rip apart my trunk (and discovered I don’t even have a spare tire because of the battery being back there!) and my phone somehow managed to get stuck in some crack that was nearly impossible to get out. I honestly don’t know how we did it but I got my phone back.
By the time we unloaded Matt’s car, we were both sweating and ready for a drink. We went to Sidecar Social and got spicy margaritas and then Matt got an old fashioned and I got an espresso martini. Once again, Matt tried to convince me to go on an actual date with him, to which I reminded him again that I’m enjoying the single life for now. He said, “Well maybe now that you’re getting your life back together.” And I said, “That makes it sound like I’m coming off of drugs or just got out of prison haha.” But seriously, it made it seem like something in my life had been so off and now I was finally making some progress in the right direction.
We picked up the dogs at 9:30pm and then went back to my house for a bit. Matt helped me with some random things, like carrying my desk upstairs, and then went home. I hopped in the shower, got into bed, finished up some work, wrote my report, and then tried to sleep. I tossed and turned for about two hours before I finally fell asleep.
When I woke up Tuesday morning, it was around 7:30am. I stayed in bed until about 8 and then decided I had to go for a walk before it got too hot outside. I got dressed and the dogs and I walked around the neighborhood and on the trails and through the park. Ellie led the way like she had never left. I looked at the park and the trail and just thought about how lucky I am to get this sort of do-over. I think I took a lot for granted before and I’m so thankful to have this chance to have my old life back. All the neighbors said hello and waved as we walked and before heading home we stopped at the mailbox where my new driver’s license was waiting for me. “It’s really official now!” I thought.
Back at home I gave the dogs breakfast and then decided I had to go to H-E-B to get some allergy meds because all of the dust from moving caused a major allergy attack that I felt like I could barely breathe and wanted to rip my eyeballs out. I picked up some meds, got gas, and then went to Home Depot to make some extra copies of my key.
At home, my landlord texted me about coming over soon to install some cabinet hardware. I immediately realized I desperately needed to finish the kitchen. I grabbed more boxes from the garage and completely unpacked and organized the kitchen. It felt so good to make that kind of progress!
I got more work done and then ran a few errands and picked up a Thai tea from Sweetwaters. I tried to take a short nap at home but only slept maybe 20 minutes before I had to wake up for my 3:30pm work meeting. It was honestly such a waste because my boss didn’t even show up or tell us she wouldn’t be there.
I took a shower and got ready and then went to meet my mom at Brio for dinner. We moved some stuff that she picked up from my old house into my car and then I went to work.
My flight to Nashville got delayed due to thunderstorms there and I was really hoping that it would just cancel but it didn’t.
It feels like a long week and it’s only Wednesday. It’s going to be a busy few days with working so much but I’m really glad I’m off tonight.
I remember reading something many years ago that said, “If you don’t like where you live, move. You’re not a tree.” Sometimes I feel like the potted plant version of a tree. I’m okay where I am but I can still move. Sometimes it feels like I’m outgrowing my pot and need a larger one, much like a hermit crab outgrowing its shell. Sometimes I feel like I’m not getting enough water or sun and my leaves start to welt and my soil dries up. It’s amazing what changing your environment can do for you. I know it has only been a few days but I feel more like me again, like I have finally exited the dream I was living in the last 14 months.
I feel like I can really say that I tried. I loved my house there and am still sad in some ways about having left but I needed to do what was best for me and right now, I need to be where I feel like I have good support and can be happy.
I'm finally meeting my new therapist in person this afternoon. We've had a few sessions virtually and I feel like we have a lot to catch up on today since it has been a week and a half and a lot happened since then. It's nice being closer to my therapist so I can meet her in person, finally.
I thought about driving back to my old house today to finish some things up but I might hold off until Saturday. We'll see.
xoxo
Annie
0 notes
Text
11-17-23
For the most part everything is accurate as far as to what happened on each day. But I've had a lot of cummies and sometimes my memory isn't great. Everything happened it's just some minor things on what day.
Tuesday: part written in a previous. Deepest little space. Need refresh on what to write here. Puyallup class. Talk with Akira where he admits to being sexist. Just wanted to try to build a community connection. Was gross. 26 cummies. First long drive where we really utilized that car time for cummies. Going to his class full of his cummies. I can't remember which day. I think this one. There was one scene that he suggested a pause. And used the brief pause to text his wife while I was naked and run down on his bed. I was pissed.
Wednesday: Work scheduled from 9-4. Get sent home early. Take food to go. Master's first experience at the bodega before it closes. Get sent off work at about 2:30. Patrick was mad I spent like 5 mins with Master in a booth. When it was dead. And I was supposed to go home early anyways. Get food to go. See bodega. Go back to the hotel and eat food next to him on the pet bed. I think this is the day we were at the end of the meal and he ended up walking out for a call. Right after I had just said being at his feet was my favorite place. Irony and a slap in the face. His class 6-9. Edmonds class. 40 cummies.
Thursday: Contract start. Empty class. Kitty play. Missed doctor's appointment. Snapdoodle. Bought a sticker. Bought my kitty play collar and tag.
Day starts with us having a 11:45 appointment for my doctor. We went up running late after sleeping in and breakfast pickup at Starbucks taking too long. Rescheduled for 1:15. Used the interim to go to snapdoodle and get toys. Got my fidget snake doodle. Got my crumble fidget, a tiny cow, and a gold bath bomb. Went to the appointment. Got medication refills put in. Got another appointment set with Dian. Set an appointment next month with a nutritionist. So I can see someone again about my Arfid and also work on my cholesterol lowering. Trying to add more fruit in. Decided to skip zoo to try to prioritize contract. That ended to not done early like we wanted. Instead went to pet store for kitty play collar and tag. Decided my kitty play name can be my sub name, Phedra. It's a cute pink collar with stones on it that look like pearls. And silver ones. And a jack skellington tag. Went and got some basic groceries and ate tendies. Traffic was awful and we ended up getting to his office like 7-10 mins late. I guess someone showed up and left cuz the building was locked. But everything happens for a reason. We ended up using 2.5 hours of down time there for a big combined paper pros and cons list. And then rough draft our contract. And use car ride to think of new habits to add to obedience app. We started a like 1.5 hour car ride talk about the realistic expectations of dating him. As far as his family needing access to him. Which interrupts a lot. Multiple times daily. And that often every 4-5 visits his family comes with him to Seattle and stays with him. Which means likely 2 or so skipped visits a year. I think realistically as much as it sucks it would help to at least get one date night in on those times. So we don't have a 2 month drought. I know I would be absolutely shattered and devastated to skip a visit. Knowing the prior visit that a month will be skipped may also help. If we could even get a small date and/or time for sexy time at all that visit it would help tremendously. The idea of being put on the back burner for a visit sounds so awful. Won't be the next visit since Master let me request it off already. But that's gonna break me into a million pieces. That whole interim will suck. That whole month will suck. And during that specific week I'm gonna be absolutely likely not able to function at all. Everything else seems miniscule to the idea of missing a whole visit when that's all we have in person. Really hoping he can work with his wife and family and minimize missed visits. It would be nice if we never had to do that... But unrealistic. But ideal. 😵💫 It would also be nice if they could talk and we could have one night that week where she watches the kids. But may have to settle for a couple hours instead of most of a week. Which is already a lot. But would prefer that over going 2 months without my amazing Master and owner. We need that physical. And our physical connection is so strong in so many ways. Our mostly long/short distance relationship needs the visits to keep thriving. Neither of us would be happy with an only long distance relationship. Or losing a big chunk of what in person time we do have. Anyways done harping on that. After our long talk. Filling out that pros and cons list and rough drafting the contract and listening to a chapter of Kushiel's dart together. After all that we got back to the hotel. And decided we had time and space for the kitty play scene we had planned and that I smartly purchased 2 hours of on obedience. Crawling. Playing with yarn. Master taunting me because I couldn't speak. (which I asked for) lots of meowing. Pet bed time. Being walked on a leash. Full nudity. Couldn't get plug to work because it hurt. **This is the fucking third time I've had to type this part of the night because Tumblr is a piece of shit and gave me an error twice. So I've had to move it over to Google note.
What I wrote. Two times. Is how I moved it into sexual contract and how it ended. I rubbed and nuzzled into his cock. And started sucking his cock. And he moved me over to the pet bed. And said he was going to breed me. I had meows of me being in heat. (also I totally forgot my secret talent of being able to purr until I was in the moment.) So he fucked and bred. Cumming in me. At one point stepping on my head. So hot. Moved me to the bed. Started using princess kisses while making eye contact. Fingers. I got to like 68-70. He checked in. And I was a greedy kitty and wanted more. Full of his seed. After so many cummies. He used his hitachi and sometimes fingers to bring me up to 101 cummies. We passed our record. He wrote all over me. And after had me guess what number we hit. And used my hands to write out 101. I was shocked. Our newest daily record. And 101 was the strongest orgasm of the night. And may be the strongest I've ever had with him. So hot. We snuggled. I suggested a light bath. He sat behind me in the tub. Moved me to the bed after he dried me off. Got me under the covers. He had to hold me up a lot of it for walking at that time. Including to help me pee after I had laid down. He when brought me back. Got me comfy under the covers again. Cuffed me. Started playing a nature channel. And I nodded off to watching pretty yellow bugs. And then we both fell asleep.
Friday (today): started off stressful. We had an amazing scene last night. That I'll write more about on the Thursday portion. Started the day off awful. Master woke up at 7 and had an hour long text conversation. And it kept me awake. I was on like 6.5 orgasms. Post 101 orgasms just from Thursday. Ended up crying in bed. Even after all that I straddled him and ended up sucking his cock after. And sat on top of him to ride him. And stuck his cock in me. And we got to 13 cummies before he made me get off and have us start the day. We had breakfast. He made me waffles and gave me a banana I ate half of. He made a breakfast sandwich for himself. And then we headed off to the zoo. Was amazing. Apparently Master is a big zoo buff. Made a pressed coin together. Got zoozoo the angry red finger panda. Rode the carousel at the end. That was my fav. Spent like an hour or over half the time at the farm area. Got a cute photo of me petting one of the cows by stepping up on the fence. Got one cow kissie. Got cute photos of us together. New ones finally. Finished the zoo. Went to the first hill campus early. Parked. Got IHOP. Cute vanilla date where we could just be a couple. Staring into his gorgeous eyes. Anand ended up texting. And we ended up all 3 finally meeting. Master and I agree he is too disappearing. No spark. Not interested in more. Or really able to provide aftercare. After that we looked around at that bookstore. The puppy was cute he brought though. Then we got snackies for this class at QFC. And water at whole foods. Spent a few mins in the car. And went up to his class. Briefly talked about my emotional struggle of the moment. And now we're here. Me typing this in his class of the night. Honestly was pleasantly surprised that he was super present the whole visit. I really loved that.
*Going to try to make time for finishing the contract and adding in talked about obedience habits to the app. Not trying. Prioritizing. And either anal or finally swallowing his cum for the first time. I want the anal. We haven't had a full successful anal yet. We had a failed attempt. And then a partially satisfying attempt. But not him being able to fuck my ass to the extreme with force and cum in my butt.
0 notes
Text
Devil's Den Ultra - 30 hr
Background
In early September, I was thinking about long trail efforts. One reason was my friend Julia's ManHump effort to celebrate her birthday. Living in Vermont, any excuse to hike and run in the beautiful trails in an effort to train for a bigger event is appealing. A couple days later I rediscovered the Devil's Den Ultra, an event that I heard of but didn't get involved with in the past. As the website says, "The devil will be testing what you believe you are capable of on all distances." It's an annual event that happens to have existed only as long as I've lived in the area and only an hour and half away from home. And conveniently it was not the same weekend as the Newport Marathon that I had put on my calendar several months ago. Knowing that it was entirely a trail run was justification that I could do both the road marathon and ultramarathon in back to back weeks, as it would not be working the body quite in the same way.
So on September 11, 2023, I registered for the 30 hour race and immediately thought of who I'd love to have with me to crew and pace. Thinking back to the Hawk Hundred experience 7 years ago, and even the THON dance marathon back in 2010, I knew I would be physically and emotionally drained in the middle of the night. So my buddy John would be perfect to share the experience with, and I also recruited Ken to pace some nighttime miles (although he was not able to join race weekend). They were down to join, so I now turned to focus on how my training would look. It was the middle of my marathon training, so I figured as I peaked my mileage in the next couple weeks, I'd transition to doing more trail runs and hikes. In fact, this day corresponded to the end of a normally scheduled set of 7 overnight shifts; I actually paused my training after consistent weeks going back to July, so this gave me an extra push to resume with a new spin.
photo credit: @ACARTERCLARK
One of the training runs was the Three Peaks Mountain Race at the Bolton Valley ski resort (seen above approaching the summit of Vista Mountain). As part of the awesome Wednesday evening trail series Nik Ponzio was organizing/advertising was one of the Three Peaks course previews at the very end of August. It happened to be on a day I could join, and there was a pretty good turn out for a group run at a fairly out of the way location with lousy/wet weather. While the main appeal of the trail race was the 25K event, being only a week before my marathon I was eyeing the new 10K option. That worked out well once I decided to do the Devil's Den on top of the Newport Marathon. The uphill slog early in the race was a good proxy to the type of climbing I'd have at the ultramarathon, but there was also a beautiful, flowy descent that made it a real joy to return to the mountain base before an additional smaller climb and more technical descent. With some of the fastest folks doing the full race, I managed to come in 2nd place; as a well-sponsored event, I netted a $35 Outdoor Gear Exchange coupon and generous pick of random gear, which included a pair of Salomon Speedcross sandals (designed for hiking or recovering from a trail race) in my foot size.
Race Weekend
Friday
I happened to be off from work on Friday, October 14, coinciding with the kickoff of Skirack 9 AM weekly group runs. A nice easy 6ish mile run under 24 hours from Devil's Den was perfect, primarily on the waterfront bike trail. New local business Plink! provided some electrolyte refreshment and samples of their powder as well. At the store, I picked up some sale items including backup fuel and water bottle+bladder. At home after that I finished packing up for the event, including sleeping bag, camp chair, a couple pairs of trail running shoes, multiple shirts including base layers and outer layers, change of pants and shorts, some food for a small cooler and food for snacks, and massage gear.
Around 5 PM John arrived at my place and soon we hit the road. Arriving at the campsite/base operations of the event a quarter mile from the Devil's Den trailhead, we checked in with Jay Mozey, race director/creator, picking up a bag that had unusual items. The four items, aside from my included our favorite candy bar (I said caramello!), a tarot card, Untapped maple syrup "gel", and a red devil hoodie that says The Devil upside on the front (like the art on the race bib) so you see the words right side up looking down while wearing it. We also set up John's tent that we shared back over Memorial Day weekend in the Adirondacks. Since we both were hungry and in search of dinner, we hit the road again for a much shorter drive into downtown Bradford, VT.
As a very small town, seemingly everybody eating out was at the impressive Italian restaurant (Colatina Exit) that we wanted to go to. An 18 minute wait gave us time to mosey along the tiny main street area and stop by the well-regarded Vittles coffee shop, still open for a special event according to the shop's friendly co-owner. Once it was time to be seated, bizarrely, the host said a party had refused to sit upstairs, switching us to a better option than the initial spot by the kitchen. The seating upstairs was within earshot of a live cover band and aside from a wobbly table was flawless. A couple of Cashmere Hoodie pints from local brewery Upper Pass (Tunbridge), stuffed mushrooms, and ample chicken parm made for great pre-race fuel. It was enough food to save a bunch of pasta for after the race, as I was stuffed without being overly so.
After driving back 10 minutes to the race starting area, we got back around 9 PM which meant it was time to sleep! I felt cozy and warm in my sleeping bag and fell asleep quickly.
Saturday
With an adequate, albeit limited amount of sleep in the tent waking up in the middle of the night a couple of times, I awoke for the day to some pre-race satanic type of music before doing final preparations for the race.
This turned out to be a test for the real pump up at 6:55 AM following our pre-race 6:30 meeting. Jay (wearing The Devil hoodie in center of picture) intensely encouraged us to push ourselves using whatever motivation you possess, even when you may think you want to quit.
As he wrapped up with some fist bumps, we got ready to begin.
According to my watch we actually started seconds before 7 AM.
In this picture very early in the first lap, I ran with a small group including a 12-hour runner Elliot and 30-hr runner Eugene. Eugene and I would run all of lap 2 together. Holding his trekking poles here, he said had only used them once before. It turned out many folks used them on this course, which may have been particularly helpful for me on the relentlessly steep downhills. More on that later!
At the top of the big ascent near the overlook at Wright Mountain, the photographer Pete Wood captured each of us nicely.
One of us (not recalling who) also took a selfie of the group of us that power hiked and ran this first of many climbs to the gorgeous vista. I separately took a photo of this view, seen below.
Thanks to this event and the shirt Scott was wearing, I'm now aware of 46climbs, and on a related note, the entry fee for Devil's Den goes towards the Josh Pallotta Fund. Scott and I would run part of lap 8 together when he was doing lap 7. He would go on to finish two more laps than I did with 140km, finishing in 2nd place.
On the third lap, I think, this picture was taken on that initial ascent of Wrights Mountain. It wasn't lap 2 because I was still wearing pants (these shorts were underneath for a quick change). Unlike most steep climbs where ropes are attached to trees to aid in navigation, this was actually kind of loose and unhelpful, especially with the trail's direction drawing you to the right of it pretty quickly. But it looks cool!
Lap 3 was also the one I had the pleasure to spend a big chunk of it with Lee, who was the winner of the 30 hour race. He came prepared and confident, coming off a 100 mile race victory in July. Lee wasn't wrong when he said I was gonna want poles (as you can see him use below), like on lap 10. Although he came a lap short of reaching our shared goal of 100 miles for this devilish race, he did improve on last year's distance completed; this was his third attempt. If these trends continue he will pull it off next time if he wants it!
After the first of two baselayer shirt changes, this photo must have been somewhere in the range of laps 5 through 7, when there was still daylight. I was starting to get physical fatigue but could still run all of the flats and downhills with power hiking the ascents. Relative to the average lap pace I was looking to pull off to complete 100 miles, I was right on target but knew I was using too much energy to do so. Still, I was happy with my effort and was having a great time.
Saturday Night
This is the part of the race I anticipated being the toughest for several, additive (multiplicative?) reasons. 1) Darkness. With a headlamp, while you can see what's in front of you, your vision overall is diminished which lowers your ability to best plan your footfalls. 2) Time on feet. You've now been running/moving for 12 hours. That's a lot. 3) Temperature. It's going to be getting colder, or at the very least feel colder, as you tend to slow down and sweat less. Loss of body heat can lead to hypothermia. 4) Fuel. This is a big one that builds up after all this time. You've now passed through all three primary meal times and it's unlikely you've been able to eat enough food equivalent to that and all the energy and salt you've been using up through the exertion of more than 10,000 feet of elevation gain. With the steep, technical downhills, the breaking on the descents doesn't give much of a break, either. 5) And that ties into the big one, muscle fatigue. As mentioned in the last paragraph, I was starting to feel this a bit during the afternoon well before nightfall. Following lap 7 I was so thankful for a massage therapist who treated my sore calves and hammies. Based on how much discomfort I felt during the massage, the muscles were indeed breaking down. Thinking back to the Hawk Hundred, I could only anticipate a potential debilitating leg cramp as what could happen. Through that massage, an early morning nap, and good fuel, maybe I avoided that type of injury!
The main other thing to note is the importance of having a pacer at this point. While laps 8 and 9 I did by myself in the dark (albeit I'd see other 30 hr folks on the course at times), I could no longer really run much so laps were getting slower as evident from the smoothed pace chart above. And I expected the next one would get slower since it was almost 11 PM when I got back from lap 9. All five of those factors listed above were coming together, and spending a lot of time fueling and not moving at the base area made me decide - yep, I could use a pacer right now. Thankfully, while not dressed to run, John was wearing boots and warm clothes that were good enough to hike through the woods. So after 33 minutes (way more time than any other lap breaks), we set off for a late night journey. John got to experience the whole course, and he set a very fair pace for my energy level. It felt difficult physically going uphill but not overly so, and by walking the downhills, though still challenging, I didn't risk injury as much as if I tried pushing those, in particular the frequent twisting, rocky and rooty sections. We also rested a few times, including at the Wrights Mountain overlook (which still was beautiful in the middle of the night with an assortment of street lights in the distance).
According to the big, handwritten scoreboard, by the time we returned, 3 hours and 8 minutes had elapsed. That was more than 50% more time than the previous lap. Even if I had attempted to resume 2 hour laps, time was not on my side to complete 16 laps (100 miles). Simple arithmetic (even with a sleep-deprived brain) could calculate 6 laps x 2 hours being a minimum of 12 hours needed. It was just shy of 2 AM, so there were 11 hours remaining in the race. There's a reason why it's supposed to be really hard to run 100 miles in 30 hours on this course! So my new goal was to just continue. Unfortunately, over the next hour, aside from the nourishment of bbq pizza (one of I think four slices of pizza I ate over the weekend), I struggled through shivering cold. After slowly finishing noodles and soup that had become cold, I finally motivated myself to leave the fire and make it to the tent a short distance away for much needed sleep. But I arose not only to instantly shiver but could only limp with huge discomfort now putting weight on my right leg. John opened the tent and helped me get comfortable as quickly as possible, minimizing the amount of time I shivered uncontrollably in a pretty damp tent that made it hard to feel warm unless I had fully dry covering. Thankfully the air inside the tent was still relatively warm, and I was exhausted so I soon fell asleep sometime after 3 AM.
Sunday
I woke up from my nap in the tent feeling cold but not shivering. Thank you Hannah for the warm blanket - don't know what I would have done without it with all my warm clothing having become damp from early morning dew. Although I wasn't immediately ready to exit the tent, I forced myself out a little later, after sunrise or a bit after 7 AM. After crawling out of the tent, I first put weight on my left leg, and then surprised myself finding that I could now put weight on my right leg without it hurting much. Walking back and forth from the porta pot, I felt it was go time; no time to think more on it, I would continue as soon as possible. The pizza and cup o'noodles I consumed before the nap would be enough fuel for now.
On lap 11, the first of two that I did not expect to run, I got a boost by watching the 6 mile folks run by me one by one. The leader came by roughly half way through on the nasty Cindy's Trail, closely followed by another runner. Some others passed me on Cindy's big ascent, including Shelly, a beast of an ultrarunner who did 100 miles at RUTfest in 2021. And there was a runner with a dog!
Another runner (I think Matt Hayes?) chatted with me for a little bit as he passed me on the out and back to the eponymous Devil's Den. He was coming off an injury but seemed to be doing pretty well, considering. Running even one lap of this course isn't easy. He expressed that folks doing the 30 hours inspired him and I definitely took that as encouragement to continue the best I could as the final hours ticked by. From this picture, note that I'm only able to fast walk downhills with the pain in my right hamstring and inability to go any faster versus a shuffle. At this point, I'm wearing my final outfit including entirely different shoes, socks, shorts, and shirt with an unnecessary double jacket look around my waist if I started feeling chilled.
[Side note: the socks were nice to change into and entirely expected. The shoes, while great, were forced upon me. Let's go back to Saturday night/early Sunday morning. At 2 something in the morning, I took off the Pearl Izumi trail shoes I had been running in while sitting in front of the fiery fire pit that kept me from shivering. John, after some time, noted the smell of burning rubber. I had minutes prior, visually took account of smoke between the pit and myself but didn't remember or see the shoes in front of me. Sure enough, rubber from one of the shoes had indeed been burning. If you're wondering what that looks like afterwards, here it is.]
As I returned to the base, it was well before 10 AM, which was my mental cutoff as to if I would have to consider not running another lap. So I was mentally set to do one more, a 12th lap to complete 120 km or roughly 75 miles. The lap would not count if I got back at 1 PM and 1 second. Based on how long lap 11 took and how that pace didn't feel overly difficult, I would have plenty of wiggle room if something went wrong. Also, since there were only 3 wristbands - nice thick bands with the iconic devil font saying YOUR WHY>EXCUSES - remaining in the bracelet box, I would be coming back to the finish area for the final time still with 11 bands on my right wrist. Jay assured me it was no matter. Also appreciated him signing me in and out on the big board for most of the laps after the first several - more time to refuel the better, with even seconds adding up.
After taking down some more sugary treats (including homemade, moist pumpkin muffins) to keep my energy up, I asked John if I could have my phone back for the final lap, and he obliged. This was the only lap I didn't log any of on my watch which had shut off its GPS automatically when its battery dropped to 2% on the previous lap. This would also provide some satisfying symmetry as the only other lap I took pictures was during the first lap. Some of the awesome Halloween themed decorations along the course were not set up yet early on, so I snapped a pic of one early in the big ascent.
Many of the trails criss-crossed each other necessitating clear markings like this one. Especially at night, even tracing over the same trails over and over again, the clear signage was clutch.
I also took a picture of some educational material that was part of the Wrights Mountain/Devil's Den Town Forest about various birds that live in this forest. Many may soon migrate southward, such as the chestnut-sided warbler and hermit thrush.
The course includes a series of several trails with people's names, as well as trail names such as Appreciation Way. The sequence includes Ernie to Cindy.
As referred to previously, Cindy is kind of a b*tch. In contrast, Ernie is short and gentle.
However, Cindy does provide a break in the technical steeps by this vernal pool.
After finishing the incline that marks the end of Cindy's Trail for the final time, and after a relatively short time going downhill, I heard some voices. Given the lack of people still on the course, it had to be Calvin and Nick who had been doing the whole thing together. In fact, John and I happened to join the two of them a couple of times in the middle of the night when they were on lap 7 and I was on lap 10. Their goal as stated much earlier in the event was to complete 10 laps, and sure enough, that's what they were on! At this point, I was moving only very slightly faster than they were. So once I caught them, along with Wayne (on lap 11) and another Nick who was pacing them on the lap, I decided to stick with them for the remaining roughly 1.5 miles.
One last look from the overlook at Devil's Den. While skies were overcast for most of the daylight hours on both Saturday and Sunday, there were intervals of sun. A little bit of blue sky can be seen at this time (11:37 AM).
Considering the clock, we were in a perfect position to celebrate our accomplishment hiking into the finish area without time pressure. The four of us were marked in with a last lap return time of 1214 and presented with a heavy and stylish devil medal.
I snapped a photo of the near-final results before we began to make our exit from the race base.
It was noteworthy and impressive that Scott (finished with 14 laps completed) and Lee (finished with 15 laps completed) each were determined to set out again when time was not on their side, based on when they last checked out of the starting area. I figured bragging rights, and the Devil's Skull (!), was on the line even if the odds of completing one final lap were low.
Quick Wrap Up
Although I didn't achieve my primary goal, this event definitely challenged me physically and mentally as it was meant to do. Got to fight back from "the abyss" and came back with the classic black toenails!
So no question about it, this was a successful ultramarathon and a great reminder of what's so great about these types of events. Looking forward to hanging out and doing a few laps at this year's RUTfest, where I'll see some of the same awesome people around.
0 notes
Text
For me — a kid in the “honors” classes at a magnet high school — 1 and 2 weren’t at all a problem, it was all 3. But 3 was bad.
it wasn’t just that there was a lot of homework. It’s that there was literally more work than I was capable of doing. There would often be more homework assigned on Monday and due on Tuesday than I could actually do in 24 hours, if I wanted to eat and sleep. And there would be the same amount assigned Tuesday and due Wednesday. And homework where we had a few days to do it on top of that. And long term projects like reports that we were somehow expected to do on top of that. There were no field trips. Field trips would mean cutting into the class time of a different class, and teachers were jealous of their time. Everyone acted like they were the only ones assigning homework. I had an English teacher who told us that when he assigned us a short story, we were supposed to read the story, read it again, go on a walk and think about it, and read it again. I have no idea what he was high on, but frequently I couldn’t find time to read the stories once.
I was so organized over the two week long winter break in my junior year of high school. I had a schedule drawn up, broke down my homework for each class into chunks with deadlines so I would know if I was on track. I gave myself no weekend days off, only Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and New Year’s Day and gave myself a three day buffer at the end. (After being exhausted like I had never been exhausted in my life the last week of classes.) I gave myself regular breaks, gave myself meals and time to shower, and I might have stopped work for the day as early as 9 pm, probably the equivalent of twelve hour days. I ended up working through my buffer, and even so there were a bunch of history flash cards that I meant to get done that I didn’t get to. And then classes started again.
At one point my uncle, who was either in or had recently graduated from a PhD program, suggested I take one day off a week. That sounded completely unworkable, so I ignored him, but I did give myself one full hour of free time before bed every day, and I did give myself all of Friday afternoon and evening after class.
(it is…also the case that pretty often my parents would invite me to do something recreational over the weekend, and I’d say yes without thinking about it too hard. For whatever reason some part of me figured carving out time from studying because I wanted to was unacceptable, but family time was allowed. And I did at least have variety in what I was doing for school: it wasn’t just book learning, there was also music and sports practice.)
I checked out a book from the library called Yoga for Busy People. My mother said something dismissive about the idea that I was “busy”.
As an adult, and someone who approves of labor rights, I think people deserve a standard 8 hour workday, a standard 40 hour work day, two days a week off, and frequent holidays or vacation time. I did, strictly speaking, get a great deal of vacation time. I sure as fuck wasn’t working 40 hours a week. I was working (does some mental math) yeah, about 12 hour days Monday-Thursday, 8 hours Fridays, and maybe another 8 hours each Saturday and Sunday? (That’s a guess. I don’t really know. I didn’t track my time. It could well have been 12 hour days on the weekend some of the time too.) So … about 72 hour workweeks? And feeling absolutely miserable because I still wasn’t getting it all done and nobody once suggested to me that might be anything other than a personal failure to work hard enough?
That sounds insane writing it all out like that.
And it could have been worse. I did actually remember stuff well, so I didn’t really have to study on top of assigned work. I didn’t have any responsibility for chores, which is not generally the case for working adults. The commute was not long and was probably necessary decompression time, as I was not able to do schoolwork while I was in transit. And there was some time when I was supposed to be doing schoolwork but was lost in daydreams, but I’m not sure that should matter because nobody is 100% effective during extended workdays. It’s normal for people at office jobs to not actually be working every minute that they’re supposedly at work, even aside from official breaks.
But that was only half of the nightmare. The other half was: I was sort of under the impression that school was supposed to prepare you for the adult world, especially the working world. I figured since I did well in school, that would transfer over to having an easy time getting work. And then I decided I didn’t want to go to college (and I mean, seventy two hour work weeks, of course I didn’t want to sign up for more of that) and I thought this “getting a job” thing would be pretty easy, I mean everyone can get a job, even people who did terribly in school, right?
it turns out the skillset for getting hired, when you have no credentials beyond a high school degree, is very different from the skillset for getting good grades in school. And I was terrible at getting hired. And, at least for retail (and canvassing, don’t get me started on canvassing), terrible at staying hired, because customer service means interacting with people, which I am bad at. And people don’t really like training people they’ve just hired for their shitty minimum wage customer service job, so you also have to figure out what you’re supposed to do without being explicitly told, and figure it out fast, which I am spectacularly terrible at. So I went from working my ass off for no pay but at least getting some sort of symbolic/status reward for it, to failing at things that I hadn’t realized it was possible for someone who was genuinely trying to fail at. It was not a comfortable experience for my ego.
And I still. Have not. Figured out. How to organize my time and reliably consistently get done the things I think I should get done. Without immanent deadline pressure or someone else who is going to be disappointed if I don’t get the thing done. Because the way I learned to get things done was to respond to deadline pressure and fear of facing the disapproval of others. I am 40 years old.
I think a lot of the skepticism and derision toward the idea of "gifted kid burnout" stems from the fact that a lot of folks have no idea what the gifted track in most high schools actually looks like; they've got this mental image, possibly informed by popular media depictions, of "gifted kids" as a privileged group of students who get to go on extra field trips, monopolise the teachers' attention in class, and constantly be told how special they are, but who are otherwise treated identically to all the other kids.
In practice, the gifted track in most high schools – most North American high schools, at any rate – has the same problem as any other educational program: the need to adhere to published metrics. These programs exist for the benefit of students only insofar as those benefits can empirically be measured, which leads to several common outcomes:
Students on the gifted track being afforded fewer choices regarding elective classes – often to the extent of having no choices at all – in order to stream the highest-performing students into the subjects that are most valuable in terms of boosting institutional metrics.
Students on the gifted tracking receiving restricted access to educational resources such as tutoring because it's perceived as a waste of funding. In many cases, gifted students are not only denied access to tutoring, but expected to serve as volunteer tutors and teaching assistants themselves, effectively becoming a source of unpaid educational labour for the schools they attend.
Students on the gifted track being assigned considerably more homework, often literally doubling their workload in an environment where homework loads are already routinely high enough that kids have difficulty finding time to eat and sleep, simply because you get more measurable academic performance data that way.
The upshot is that the gifted track is often less about fun perks and constant praise, and more about receiving less freedom, fewer resources, and heavier workloads than one's peers, getting strong-armed into providing unpaid labour to the school on top of it, and constantly being told one should be grateful for it – and that's without touching on the fact that the unspoken secondary purpose of many gifted programs is to serve as a quarantine for all the neurodivergent kids the school couldn't find an excuse to institutionalise or expel.
Like, shit, there's a reason kids on the gifted track exhibit elevated rates of alcoholism and substance abuse compared to general student populations. That doesn't arise in a vacuum!
(To be clear, I'm not saying that people graduating from high school and immediately having an existential crisis upon realising they're not special after all isn't a thing that happens, but in my experience that's more usually something that happens to the kids who were on the football team, and reframing it as a nerd culture thing is really weird.)
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
I know I don’t have a lot of followers on here, especially not ones that care about my personal life, but here is a life update anyway, feel free to skip over.
Let this also serve as a lovely tale of the USA healthcare system. /s
And especially doctors who are more afraid for being caught ‘overprescribing’ controlled substances by the FDA or DEA than they are of not treating the patients’ pain appropriately.
Background: I have formal diagnoses of Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA), Osteoarthritis (bilateral, but all right side are slightly worse - knees, hips, lumbar and cervical spin, shoulders, and elbows), and Fibromyalgia. All the fun pain causing things. It took from my very first symptom (right knee pain) at 14 until I was 29 (in July 2020) for a doctor to even consider checking my rheumatoid factor (which for the record is supposed to be under 14. Mine was 176 and 2 months later it was 194). Previous doctors had agreed that I had early onset osteoarthritis in my knees about 5 or so years earlier, but that’s in. The fibromyalgia diagnosis came in April of 2022. I had a repair surgery on my right shoulder in December 2018 (I was about to turn 28), and at the 1 week follow up appointment my doctor straight up told me he had to check he had the right patient after he looked inside my shoulder because it looked like I was about 80.
Now the current saga: Since February 15th I have been having the worst pain flare of my life. Including multiple instances of very sudden onset drowsiness/fatigue in the middle of the day for no clear reason (no one has figured that part out yet or even seemed to be interested in that part honest?).
On Feb 15, I had my last appointment with my former Rheumatologist who I loved, but left the practice so I had to switch now. She took me off two meds I’d been on previously between a visit in December and that visit. At that point I was feeling pretty baseline. I scheduled a visit in May with the other Rheumatologist at the clinic I go to. Driving home from that appointment while on one of the busiest and most accident prone highways in my area, is when I got my first sudden drowsiness/fatigue spell. Like I had to fight to keep my eyes open the last five minutes of my drive home and to get inside (obviously I did so safely).
When I was safely home, I call my primary care physician (at the time)’s office to see if I could be seen as this symptom was worrisome. The soonest appointment they had (as of a Wednesday evening) was the following Monday morning. I made the appointment with the clear intention of going to Urgent Care in the meantime and using it as a follow up.
Went to the Urgent care I usually avoid because the wait at the one I like was 3+ hours. Wouldn’t do anything other than a finger prick glucose test and swab me for COVID. It was not COVID or the flu or RSV.
Finally to see my PCP on Monday, February 20th in the morning which is also the first day I woke up in extreme pain. I told the doctor this. And by the end of that visit I fully decided I was switching PCPs, because she yet again blamed my weight checked some standard blood tests, swabbed for COVID again (which was negative again) and said probably viral you’ll get over it (even though I’m on immune suppressants so if it were viral that could be an issue). I also saw my (psych) therapist and physical therapist that day and had PT again the next day, so if we’re keeping track that’s already 6 health care visits so far and we’re only a week in.
Had PT again on February 23 (Thursday). Still in increased pain mode, but I could tolerate it at that point. PT on the 27th (Monday). CT Scan of my abdomen on Wednesday March 1st which had been ordered nearly a month prior when I was having left side abdominal pain that an ultrasound couldn’t figure out. The CT didn’t figure that out either, but that part subsided on its own. PT again on March 2.
On Saturday March 4, I decided to go into the city to the market as one does. I proceeded to sprain my right ankle pretty severely and bruise both knee caps. went to urgent care about the ankle on the 4th and then the knees on the 5th when I realized they hurt pretty bad, too. On March 6, I have PT, a therapy session, and an appointment with my endocrinologist where she put me on a new med to help with my PCOS. More PT on both March 7 and March 9, and an appointment with the (now previous) family doctor also on March 7 to go over the results of the CT which she had already called me with anyway. That was the last time I saw her.
March 13 and 15 I had PT. I also had a therapy session on the 15th. This was the point when the pain was skyrocketing. And if we’re keeping track that’s 21 medical appointments in one month February 15 to March 15.
On March 16, my mom drove me to an ER about 45 minutes from where I live that is a huge medical school and has every specialty under the sun and is also the medical group I use for Rheumatology and Endocrinology already. I went in in extreme pain they gave me IV tordol which did nothing. (It never does anything.) Then the PA who I saw who was absolutely lovely had to go and ask the attending what she could do. I was told they couldn’t admit me because they didn’t know WHY I was in pain and I’m just like...but isn’t that why you SHOULD admit me, so we can figure out why? Anyway, they ended up giving me 35mg of Ketamine via IV which was a trip and a half and the relief only lasted about 6 hours. Glad my mom was there to drive me home. She also gave me 50mg prednisone and tramadol to take at home. the tramadol didn’t really do anything and as always the prednisone did nothing either.
I proceeded to lay low for the entire following week other than an appointment with my therapist on Friday the 24th. I had at this point in the pain flare gotten to a place where I was in bed more than I was out of it and in so much pain it was often all I could think about.
I resumed PT on the 28th which is also the day I saw my new/current rheumatologist for the first time. She put me back on the meds the previous one had taken me off of thinking that could’ve caused the flare (I really doubt that’s true, but whatever). I also had PT on the 30th and then on the 31st I had therapy and an appointment with chronic pain management at the same hospital I’d been in the ER of on the 16th. I had to drive myself because my mom was working that day. They looked me straight in the eye and said the kind of pain you have all over, and that you’ve had for this long, there’s not a lot we can do for you. We can’t do injections cause you hurt all over. We can suggest some medications to your PCP for the fibromyalgia or we could consider medical marijuana. Almost all of my psych drugs that we finally got figured out are contraindicated with THC, so that option was out. So all that came of that appointment for PAIN MANAGEMENT was a note sent to my new PCP that she should prescribe either Lyrica or Savella for my fibromyalgia. I proceeded to go back to their ER and get an even less helpful PA who all I got was Toradol and asked if I wanted I psych consult when I said I’m in so much pain that death sometimes seems like a better option. THIS IS NOT A PSYCH ISSUE. THIS IS A PAIN ISSUE.
Last Saturday, April 1, I went to a different ER the one that my previous doctors were all part of, that’s much closer. The doctor there was the first one that actually helped or did ANYTHING honestly. He pretty much immediately got an IV put in, gave me oral tylenol, IV Toradol and then IV dilaudid which knocked me out for a nice nap until the MRI of my thoracic and lumbar spine which took over an hour and was very uncomfortable. The MRI didn’t show anything other than lumbar spine osteoarthritis which I already knew about. He gave me temporary scripts for oxycodone (opioid pain med) and flexeril (constrolled substance muscle relaxer).
I saw my new PCP on Monday evening after having PT earlier that day. I also got my hair chopped off in between because I though maybe the weight of my hair was part of my neck pain issue. The new family doctor did not listen to ANYTHING I said other than I need refills of my allergy med, please. She did not care to discuss literally anything else even when I told her pain management SENT HER A LETTER TELLING HER TO PRESCRIBE LYRICA OR SAVELLA. she did nothing. She did not care at all.
On Wednesday, I ran out of pain meds and the pain ramped right back up, so I called to make an appointment with this PCP again. Had my mom drive me over the next afternoon. She REFUSED to prescribe the medicine that actually helps me but did prescribe the lyrica and make me sign all this ridiculous paperwork because it’s technically a controlled substance (at the lowest level). I started that last night and today I went to PT in the morning thinking maybe they’ll help, when I left I thought they might’ve, but by the time I got home I felt worse than when I got there, so I made a nearly hour long drive to yet another hospital in search of ANSWERS. Not even meds at this point ANSWERS. I was seen very quickly by a resident doctor who orders oral tylenol an injection of toradol and a lidocaine patch on my back where I was having the most pain. I talked to both him and the charge doctor about everything that’s been going on and he then prescribed the same meds as the ER last weekend did in hopes that the Lyrica will kick in and start working by then.
So now, for those keeping track at home. I have had 34 medical appointments since 2/15 and still have no actual answer for why I am in this much pain or why I get random drowsy/fatigue spells in the middle of the day. Still have no hospital willing to admit me and try to figure it out. Currently sitting around with a heating pad basically glued to my back. I did stop at target and purchase OTC lidocaine patches to try and a yoga ball because some of the most helpful stuff for me at PT involves said yoga ball and it was like $15.
#about me#me#personal#life update#if you care#medical stuff#tw: hospital#tw: medical#tw: emergency room#tw: pain#chronic pain#fibromyalgia#rheumatoid arthritis#osteoarthritis#my body thinks it's 50 years older than it is#no really my surgeon told me in december 2018 at nearly 28 that the inside of my shoulder looked like i was 80#and in my early 20s i was told i'll probably need knee replacements before insurance will want to cover them#i'm also trying to get on disability (i have an advocacy agency/lawyer)#but it takes forever#and i'm probably gonna be evicted at the end of this month anyway#unless some kind of miracle happens#i did buy megamillions tickets today#can i just win that#that would solve this
1 note
·
View note
Text
Baby, It's Halloween.
A/N: Made with the help of @foxilayde and with @alwritey-aphrodite 's marvelous taste in music in mind. I love you guys!!!!
Pairing: Jonathan Levy x Reader
Warnings: P in V, porn with plot, unprotected sex, descriptions of Jonathan carrying reader, I mean reader fucks her Professor, so., you can let me know if there is anything else, not beta read
Description: You hadn't been planning on fucking your professor. You really hadn't; sometimes those things just happen. You also hadn't been planning on him crying in your arms, but those things also sometimes happen.
Word Count: 3.1k
Additional note: if you like Jonathan Levy and also sex, read Danny's Putz and the Perv fic. If she is at all more mentally sane than me, she probably wasn't projecting onto one of the references on her resume while writing it.
Why is it that Universities never give days off for Halloween? You get Thanksgiving and fucking Presidents' day, but not Halloween? As if that weren’t bad enough, of course it lands on a Monday this year. Your busiest, boringest day of the week; Only made up for in part by Professor Levy’s class at 12:45, to which he always shows up just disheveled enough to look class time appropriate and hot.
This strays drastically from the point, though, which is this: Halloween is on a Monday this year, Halloween is a much better holiday than Thanksgiving, and you need to maintain a professional GPA if you want to keep the fantastic lineup of Pell Grants and scholarships sitting in your Financial Aid portal. It was the accumulation of all of these fascinating tidbits of information that led to you showing up to every one of your scheduled classes in a thrift-store Indiana Jones cosplay which you and your roommates had drunkenly put together Friday night.
Despite the fact that it had been made by a gaggle of drunk college students, the costume stood strong through the test of soberness. The playfully ripped up khakis, the leather fedora that for some reason you already had lying around, the linen shirt with one too many buttons undone, and the makeuped on grime all shouted “yeah dude, it’s halloween, fucking fight me about it”, but in a fun, kind of hot way. This was an opinion you had Friday night while making the damned thing, and your confidence certainly wasn’t dimmed after sitting through your first couple of compliment filled classes.
Still, sitting through your Anthropology class–the very 12:45 lecture previously mentioned, had proven to be…not as you had expected. You had still received the “bro, you look so good”’s and “Oh my god, that’s great, I should have dressed up”’s from your friends and acquaintances in the class, but you also noticed that about every 7 minutes, Professor Levy would pause his lecture on the progression of agriculture through the anthropocene to look at you. Part of you felt like you were going crazy, because no one else seemed to notice, but what you could have written off the first time kept. fucking. happening.
At first you thought that your Professor had somehow figured out that you’d been switching tabs between your notes and the videos of your friend’s cat which she had sent you, but the glances kept happening long after you’d closed the kitten tab as discreetly and quickly as possible.
Despite your urge to uncomfortably wriggle in your seat, you were still able to pay some modicum of attention, occasionally jotting down fragmented notes of “adapted land to their needs” and “Europeans destroyed ecology and then were confused when other people didn’t cuz british ppl are stupid”. You even managed to get a head start on the homework. That is to say, you got a head start on finding out the link to the homework template was broken. Either way, though, keeping busy kept your mind from jumping to conclusions about the glances.
You breathed a sigh of relief when Professor Levy finally said, “Alright, that's all for today. We don’t have class until Wednesday, but don’t party too hard.”
The class broke into chatter, jokes about “Grandpa Levy” telling you all “not to party too hard” and idle conversation about various forms of debauchery going on that night tossed around.
You turned as Marissa, the girl who sat next to you poked you and asked, “Are you going to the library today?”
You hummed, distracted. “Maybe. Don’t wait up. And don’t study too hard.” You winked with a grin as she rolled her eyes at you playfully and left the classrooms dusty walls and creaky seats, before walking up to Professor Levy’s desk. You waited patiently for the go-getters and teachers' pets to ask their questions and take their leave before gently clearing your throat behind him.
Professor Levy spun, eyes wide when he saw you there. You had never noticed the dark circles beneath them, how they so perfectly seemed to frame his face in a way that you didn’t know was possible.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. The link for the homework is broken.” You trailed your finger along his desk, a fidgeting motion masked through the confidence of the archeologist you were imitating. It was coated in an endearing layer of dust that you had found was a common fixture of the anthropology wing, and it held Professor Levy’s school-issued laptop and an Oliver Sacks book–The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat.
Professor Levy’s brow furrowed, eye line slipping to where your finger met his table before snapping back to meet your own gaze. Apparently he believed you to be much less observant than you are, or maybe he simply can’t help himself, because his eyes roamed away from your face once more, this time to the top button of your linen shirt, the lapse of fabric where the valley of your breasts met.
Gaze snapping up again, Levy informed you, “There is no homework for Wednesday. The module likely transferred over from last semester, but I’ll make sure to fix that. Have a happy Halloween.”
You didn’t know how he did it. The man was so easily flustered, yet he spoke to you like nothing at all had transpired. It almost made you want to laugh, how this man was so clearly looking at your breasts just seconds before, and decided to just play it off as if you wouldn’t have noticed. All it took to get him blushing during lectures was teasing him for the music he played before class, but now here he was, calmly explaining that the homework assignment was canceled so you could get debauched, after so obviously staring at your breasts, and nothing?
“...okay,” you conceded, wiping the dust from your hand onto your pants before looping your thumbs in your belt loops. “Thanks.”
He resumed packing his things into his canvas bag, likely assuming that you would leave. You thought about doing just that, but– “Professor?”
Levy’s head tilted back towards you in surprise. You weren’t sure by his expression whether you’d exceeded his expectations or overwhelmed them. Either way, you continued the originally poorly planned message with, “Indiana Jones fan?”
Professor Levy’s eyes seemed to bug out from your discreet tease before he regained his own composure.
“I can’t say that the trilogy is the most accurate representation of Archeology as a study, but yeah, it’s a… pretty good film.”
You snickered, turning on a booted heel. “Happy Halloween, Professor Levy,” you called as you walked out of the lecture hall through the wooden door. There was something charming about how Professor Levy seemed to think that you hadn’t noticed the noticeably hard wood that was currently pushing against the confines of his pants.
***
You knocked on his door that night at 8 pm. Well, not his door, you weren’t some creepy stalker, but his office door. It’s not like you had been looking for him or anything, but you always cut through the anthro building to get back to your apartment when it was cold, and it was always less crowded if you went through the office area instead of the lecture hallways, and it wasn’t like you had meant to notice that his light was still on and didn’t show any signs of turning off.
So yeah, you reformed all of your Halloween plans on the way to the house party that you were actually supposed to be going to because your professor who clearly had the hots for you had to be pathetically sad to be grading papers at 8 pm on Halloween, even if it was a Monday.
When he opened the door he fit the exact image which had formulated in your mind; button-up opened a few buttons revealing a white undershirt (granted, in your head the undershirt was replaced with a glimpse of bare chest), hair messed up in a cute, disgruntled way, and papers covering his desk, not an inch of empty space.
“Trick or treat,” you playfully quipped, smirking at him from where you leaned in the doorway. After you had finished all of your classes for the day, you had opened your shirt a couple of extra buttons, exposing your black lacy bra underneath; This was something that Professor Levy clearly noticed, his eyes lingering on your chest (again) as he looked you up and down. He seemed less ashamed of it this time around. Maybe it was because he was tired, or the two of you weren’t in the middle of a lecture hall. Maybe he had finally noticed how you wanted him back.
“You don’t seem to care very much about professionalism in school environments,” Professor Levy noticed.
You shrugged. “Dress codes are for High Schools and Mormons. C’mon, stop moping, it’s Halloween–”
Before you had the chance to finish your offer, Levy cut you off with, “Who says I’m moping?”
You scoffed. “Either you’re sad or you’re boring. Anyways, as I was saying, I have blood,” you joked, pulling out a bottle of cheap wine from your satchel, “and candy, and by all means, you can stay here and be boring, or you can hang out with me so that I don’t have to be near drunk frat boys. By all means, your choice, Professor Levy, but I do hope you’ll take pity on me.”
He seemed to be weighing his options, staring at you as he decided. You smiled back at him, with only a hint of snark. “It’s a bad idea,” he said, but he seemed resigned; You knew that it wouldn’t take much more pushing to get him to cave.
“Perfect. Your place or mine? Mine is probably filled with drunk college students dressed like slutty vampires, but I’m flexible,” you joked.
Professor Levy sighed, brow furrowed. “Come on, I’m parked in Lot F.” He picked up his bag, tossing in the random knick knacks which he decided he needed, but leaving the papers. You tried to stay calm, but internally you were smiling, giggling, and punching the air. You had managed to get your hot professor to take you home on Halloween. How the fuck did you manage to get your hot professor to take you home on Halloween?
You followed him to his car, a grey prius, doing your best to keep up that suave facade that you had spent at least two years perfecting. It was a quiet walk. You weren’t sure if you should be filling the silence; It wasn’t even a particularly comfortable silence, both of you so stuck in your own thoughts. Once in the car, though, Levy turned the radio on to a soul station, which made you smile.
“Otis Redding? Not Spooky Scary Skeletons?” You teased, looking over the center console at your Professor.
“I don’t think it was me who wrote my Midterm paper on the influence of soul on the Modern Era.”
“Oh God, I think if I start thinking about school right now I’ll have a stress migraine.”
Levy chuckled. “It was the best paper I read.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah? is that why you looked so depressed when you opened the door, Professor Levy?”
Instead of answering, he pulled into the driveway of a beautiful culdesac suburban home that made you wonder if you really knew anything about him at all. He got out of the car, and for a moment you were worried that you had offended him, but he circled around the front of the car, opening the door for you.
He leaned in close–close enough for you to smell his cologne, the spice and leather mixing with his natural scent–and told you, “If you’re a guest in my house and I’m going to be drinking your five dollar wine, you should really call me Jonathan, Dr. Jones.”
You grinned, taking his offered hand as he led you through his door and into the house. You set your bag on the mahogany table and wandered into the kitchen.
“Wine glasses?” You asked.
“Lost all the wine glasses in the divorce,” Jonathan joked. You glanced at him, eyebrows scrunched.
“What cruel and unusual punishment,” you quipped, turning back to the cabinet above you. You never realized how little you knew about the man. He wasn’t the type to mention anything about his personal life during his lectures, and you’d never asked. You guessed that there was a lot that he didn’t know about you, too. “Luckily for you, I prefer my five dollar wine in mugs. Do you want…” You looked at the mugs you had grabbed. “Snoopy or Hello Kitty? Quite refined taste, Jonathan.”
“Definitely Hello Kitty.” Jonathan walked further into the room, leaning on the island next to where you poured the wine. “My daughter, she’s in charge of most of the mug selection around here.”
“She at her mom’s?” You asked, handing Jonathan the glass.
“You know, you’re not as subtle as you think,” Jonathan responded, tilting his glass towards you before taking a sip.
“I’m not trying to be subtle,” you remarked, sipping your own alcohol.
“What is it you’re playing at, then?” He seemed different in his own house; More confident. No longer quietly trudging about the day, but questioning your own crumbling authority.
“I’m not playing at anything, Professor Levy. Just playing.”
You paused when you felt his hand close around your wrist. It was big and warm, sending sparks of a thrilling heat down your back. “I thought I told you to call me Jonathan.”
“Just playing then, Jonathan,” you breathed. He’d been leaning closer and you hadn’t even noticed. Not until now, when your faces were mere inches apart.
“This is highly unprofessional.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, and failing.
“Live a little, Levy.” When he finally kissed you (your endgame the entire night, which would have seemed ridiculous and unachievable just last week) it was hard, and just rough enough, hands running along your ribcage as he pinned you against the kitchen island with his hips. When you broke away for air, he didn’t stop, mouth trailing down to your neck to suck bruises and nip at the skin there while his hands worked on opening what few buttons had still been left done on your blouse.
You started fumbling with the buttons of Jonathan’s dark red button up, gasping as he suckled into your skin. You managed to get it off, tossing it took the floor, and groaned when you saw the little patch of hair, leading down below Jonathan’s waistline.
He dragged your trousers along your thighs and onto the floor, fingers hooking your panties along with, before lifting you by your waist onto the counter. The cool stone of Jonathan’s countertop sent shivers down your spine, but that was soon countered by a lustful heat when his thick fingers found their way between your folds. They were teasing, playing you like a meandering harmony as you buried your face into Jonathan’s shoulder, his soft curls brushing your cheek and his scent overpowering your senses. Your pussy clenched around his index finger when he inserted it in, and you were half tempted to beg him for more.
Instead, you lifted your head from Jonathan’s shoulder, looking at him with lidded eyes as his finger pumped inside you. He chose this moment to add a second, just so that he could see the look on your face as he did it, breath catching and eyes rolling back.
When you managed to regain composure, you asked, “We gonna fuck on this counter, or…”
“No,” Jonathan removed his fingers from inside you so he could grab you by the hips and lift you up, leveraging your body against his with your legs wrapped around his back, “We’re gonna fuck on the couch.”
You giggled a little, licking and biting at his exposed neck as he walked the two of you to his living room couch, careful not to lose balance or drop you. He laid you down beneath him, eyes appreciating your form as his hands gently unclipped your lace bra, dragging it off so he could feel your soft skin. You leaned up as he worked at your breasts, hands working at his belt, followed by his button, followed by zipper. You smiled when your hand finally met Jonathan’s dick and he gasped, burying his face into your shoulder.
Both of you worked in silence, entangled and connected by lips and hands and warmth. You were kissing, tongue in Jonathan’s mouth as he lined himself up with your entrance. You could feel warmth building inside you, as his head brushed the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you and his calloused fingers worked at your clit. There was the familiar feeling pulling at you, tugging at your core, of lust and release, but there was something else–something less familiar–there as well. Something tense but emotional. Unexpected and painful and beautiful and incohesive in every sense of the word. You didn’t have much time to dwell on it though, breath mixing with Jonathan’s with your bodies connected in every sense of the word.
You could feel that spring that’s coiled within you snap as Jonathan’s thrusts reach a messy and passionate peak. The noise Jonathan made as he met his own release was almost a growl, and you were half tempted to laugh as you came down from your high. You didn’t, though.
The air was tense with something you didn’t quite understand until you saw Jonathan’s face. His eyes were just slightly red when he pulled out of you, your own reflection clear on the glassy surface, betraying emotions that you knew all too well; loneliness, confusion, shame. He seemed awkward and unsure, but you pulled him down on the couch, cramped for space and practically laying on top of you.
You carded your hands through his hair in what you hoped was a soothing gesture. “Hey, It’s okay, Jonathan. It’s gonna be okay.”
You didn’t know his problems—you weren’t even sure you wanted to know—but the two of you laid there, bodies connected, and it didn’t really matter. Everyone has problems. You have problems, Jonathan clearly has problems, and those problems definitely aren’t your problems to fix. But it was nice, laying on his sofa, and touching his soft curls, and knowing that for this moment in time, these few hours, neither of you need to feel so lonely.
Yeah, it’ll be okay.
I would literally rather have 0 notes than 5,000 likes and no reblogs.
#jonathan levy x reader#reader insert#jonathan levy x you#scenes from a marriage#oscar isaac#oscar isaac smut#jonathan levy angst#jonathan levy smut#oscar isaac angst
196 notes
·
View notes
Text
This is my first post on Tumblr! I’ve written before on Wattpad but I just recently got on here so here is my latest obsession, Xavier Thorpe.
Summary: Rowan’s sister is back from burying him but has to keep up the lie that he’s alive and just expelled. As a powerful Telekinetic, she’s always been under pressure from her dad but as the only child after her brother passing and that fact he went mad? It’s even worse.
Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Reader
Warnings: Slowburn? I’m a book writer lol not imagines so there will be a part 2. For more just flirting
Edit: here is part 2!
Part 3 is now out!
A.N.: not edited
The class schedule in my hand is new but familiar. The only differences are the intense trainings that my dad had Principal Weems put in, despite her disagreement with him about it. I have always had decent control but when I found out about my brother, I lost it. I destroyed my entire room. Thankfully I was without a roommate at the time and now I can’t have one even if I want because of the extent of the damage.
I was in such a haze, that I went home with ‘Rowan’. Which really was just Weems dropping me off at the train to go home for the private funeral. I still can’t tell anyone. Rowan needed help, I knew that but my dad ignored me. He never cared much for Rowan as he thought he was weak. He focused on me because of the strength in my power and mental stability. I could be pushed and I will fight back but Rowan never really did. He was closer to my mother, for obvious reasons.
I tried to protect Rowan after she passed but he didn’t make it easy. I was surprised to hear he went after Wednesday, over some stupid thing our mother wrote. She might be right or she might be wrong, who knows.
“Y/n!” A voice catches my attention from across the empty Quad. I look up to see Xavier jogging over to where I’m sat on the side of the fountain. I had the rest of the day off since I arrived according to Weems. My father doesn’t know so it can’t hurt him.
“How are you? How’s Rowan?” He questions as he stops in front of me, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Now the hard part is, I’m an okay liar sometimes but my brother is my soft spot. “Good, we are good. He’s fine.” I shrug, oh god, I feel like I answered too fast.
“Oh okay.. good. He hasn’t been responding to my texts.” He mentions, I don’t know how to respond to that. Of course he’s worried about Rowan, they were roommates.
“Um, he’s kinda struggling with leaving Nevermore. He’s stuck with my dad and you know how he is.” I make up, Xavier and Rowan bonded a little bit. At least from what Rowan told me. Xavier’s dad is famous, travels everywhere except to see his son.
“Yeah, I get it. At least you were with him for awhile.” He says, “what’s this?” He gestures to my schedule. He raises and eyebrow, silently asking to see it as he extends his hand.
“My dad has me on this new schedule. Doesn’t want me to get too comfortable after what Rowan did. Now I’m visiting Jericho for a therapist, extra training after school and weekly updates. Weems wasn’t going to let him unless he let me pick an extracurricular that didn’t include telekinesis so now I have to switch that too as she deemed I need something fresh.” I show him, he takes the paper and scans it.
I watch the confusion cross his face before he quietly scoffs.
“This is kind of insane. But hey, why don’t you join the archery club? It’s got a pretty cool leader. I’m sure he will take it easy on you.” He cracks a smile. I roll my eyes but smile back as our eyes meet once again.
“I also hear he has a big head though so we will see.” I tease, pushing myself off the bench and standing up, “I’m leaving to see my new therapist in a few though. Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”
He looks behind him where his class is down the hallway, “Yeah I’m supposed to be in the bathroom but then I saw you so.. I’ll see you at dinner yeah?” He questions, tilting his head at me.
A small smile crosses my face again, “Yeah I’ll be there. I missed all of you while I was gone. I really need a nightshades night soon.” Unlike my brother, I wasn’t kicked out. He grins, moving an arm over me as a side hug. He squeezes me against him with an arm around my shoulders.
“We missed you too.”
I lean my head on him for a second, enjoying the moment before shoving him away softly and saying “Go to the bathroom while I go get my private thoughts invaded.” He laughs but walks away, shaking his head at me.
——
It’s nice to be back and to see all of my friends again. Ajax slings an arm around me, hugging me quickly before Enid pulls me away into a strong hug.
“Oh I’m so glad your back! We won the Poe cup, I wish you could’ve been on our team. Yoko had a garlic bread accident but thankfully Wednesday stepped up.” Enid tells me, pulling me to sit down at the table where Ajax and Xavier are now sitting. She speaks so fast it takes me a second to comprehend it.
I glance at the boys, “Ooh it must burn.” I tease, Xavier rolling his eyes. I know how competitive he can be. “I wish I could’ve seen it. I always love the costumes.” I groan, “Im not too upset about not having to wear a catsuit though, doesn’t seem comfortable.” I shrug, resting my elbows on the table.
“Yeah you missed our costumes, they were awesome.” Ajax says, I grin at him.
“Honestly I didn’t see much of a difference. You two always look like jokers.” I can’t hold back my grin as I say it. Enid start laughing and I can’t hold mine back either.
“How long have you been holding that one in?” Xavier asks, though a smile peeks out and I shrug, calming down.
“Since I saw the pictures on instagram. Just be happy I didn’t comment it.” I tell him, causing him to roll his eyes. “You’re lucky I was gone because I know you, you’re competitive. I would’ve rubbed it in your face.” I remind him, waving my finger at him.
I watch him lick his lips and shake his head “if you were here they probably wouldn’t have won.” He shoots back, flicking my finger.
Ajax ooh’s while Enid protests, both of them arguing over it as Xavier and I lock eyes. There’s a sparkle of cockiness in his as I glare at him. But I can’t keep in the smile that crosses my face.
“I’m surprised you’re here acting so calm when you just lost your brother.” A calm controlled voice says behind me.
My eyebrows furrow as I turn to see Wednesday behind me. I’m speechless for a moment as Xavier speaks up, “Leave it alone Wednesday.”
“You need to drop this whole Rowan thing. It’s not funny anymore.” Enid tells her, standing up next to her. But Wednesdays eyes never leave mine.
Xavier comes around the table, standing next to where I’m still sat. “I think it’s time for me to go.” I say, standing up and I see them all look to me, confused.
“Why? Because you’re hiding your brothers death?” She questions, tilting her head as she squints her eyes.
I scoff, “No because Rowan already hurt you twice as he went sort of crazy once you got here and got expelled. I’d like to stay sane.” I retort, trying to remove myself from the situation.
“Just stay away from her Wednesday.” Xavier warns her as I begin to walk away. I can hear Enid telling her I just am worried about my brother but I tune out quickly once I realize Xavier had caught up to me.
“So.. wanna come to my room? It’s drama free.” He offers, as we walk under the covered walkway. I stop, looking back at the trio, where Wednesday is staring at me while Enid talks and Ajax looks like he wants to leave.
“Yeah, sure.” I take his offer and he extends his hand, which I take. It’s warm and surprisingly clean which is unusual. Not that he’s dirty. I’m just used to him behind covered in some sort of art substance.
He smiles down at me as he starts to guide me along.
——
Considering a part two? I’d love some feedback!
#xavier thorpe#xavier thorpe fluff#xavier thrope imagine#xavier x y/n#xavier thrope x reader#Xavier thorpe slowburn
123 notes
·
View notes
Text
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.
#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook drabble#jungkook scenario#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#bts#bts x reader#bts x you#bts drabble#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#bangtan#bangtan scenarios#jjk#kim namjoon#kim taehyung#park jimin#jung hoseok#min yoongi#enjoy guys!!#let me know what you think#please i'm desperate for attention lol#boxer au#college au#childhood friends to lovers
8K notes
·
View notes