#sorry weed actually hits me different than it hits other people

[captain-mj]

Plane Ride

Little Ghost mom centric thing because @snootlestheangel made me think about her again

Mrs. Riley silently handed her ticket to the airport security. She had never flown to America before. If she could, she'd probably feel anxious about doing something wrong and the man yelling at her.

Instead, all she could feel was the swirling mix of dread and relief filling her entire body. They bubbled and foamed inside her until she felt like she might throw up on the nice worker's shoes.

"Mum." Tommy put his hand on arm gently. "Sorry, sir. My brother is in the hospital and neither of us are taking it well."

"Go ahead and go through."

"Thank you, sir." Tommy held her hand as she tried not to cry again. "it's okay, Mum. Simon is alright. We're going to go see him and he's probably going to be fine and tell us we're loonies for even being worried about him."

Mrs. Riley wasn't sure she believed him, but nodded all the same. She was never the strongest person. Mentally or physically. It was not something she was proud of honestly. But she needed to keep herself together through the flight.

Tommy managed to sleep, probably exhausted from handling Joseph and the unknown amount of time he spent on the phone trying to get everything together. She made sure not to wake him up, even as she kept weeping.

Simon was alive. They told her he was dead. Went missing and would never return. That she'd never even get a body.

And now. He was alive, in critical condition and hadn't talked much. Her good boy.

Mrs. Riley started to sob again. She had never been a good mother. She always tried, but she didn't fool herself into thinking she was good. Simon protected her more than she ever protected him and that would probably always haunt her. A better mom would've left. Or at least made sure she was the only one getting hit.

The first time he had broken Simon's arm, she did leave. Just for a day. And then she came back. Weak and unable to handle the world anymore. When did she get like that? She asked herself the question constantly.

Not Simon though. Even as a kid. Always tough as nails.

The poor flight attendant offered her a drink on the house. She simply asked for a water and to please come back when Tommy was awake.

On foreign soil, she wondered how her son did it. Just... went to other countries. Talked with people. Smiled and drank and did all the things she did as a kid so easily.

A military personnel picked them up. They had on their formal wear. Only difference between it and the one, who told her that her eldest had died, was the flag and some colors. He had a scar along his head and tattoos on his arm. For a brief moment, she thought one of them may match her son's but his sleeve was half covering it.

"My name is Sergeant Alex Keller. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

He talked to Tommy like a soldier, greeting him with a thick Texan and shaking his hand. For her though, he must've seen the red eyes and the bags that came under them, because he actually smiled at her.

"I've never met someone as... strong willed as your son. I'll be happy to escort you both to the hospital. However," her blood started to drop in temperature, "i must warn you. He's not a happy camper. His condition also... isn't pretty. Doctors say he's out of the weeds, but recovery is going to be a slow and steady process."

Tommy nodded. "Strong willed... That's one way to describe him."

Sergeant Keller simply smiled and she got the impression he knew something she didn't. Most likely something classified if he was anything like Simon.

Alex took them to the hospital where they were told only one visitor at a time. With no hesitation, Tommy stepped back and said he'd wait in the waiting room. Although it was no doubt killing him, he simply squeezed his mom's hand and let go.

Mrs. Riley followed the nurse through the white halls, feeling nauseated as many childhood A&E visits flashed through her brain.

"Right now, he's on quite a bit of oxycodone."

"He's not supposed to take that."

The nurse faltered a bit. "There was no note in his file for allergies. We couldn't leave him unmedicated. Is there a different one that he should be on?" She sounded almost panicked, as she checked through Simon's file.

"Addiction... runs in the family. Sorry, I trust your judgement, miss. I'm just surprised he let you give him any pain meds."

The nurse relaxed and hesitated, again, almost telling her something. She seemed to take pity on the poor mom. "He was... delirious. We believe he was given some cocktails of hallucinogens and who knows what else. That with the infection and the fever... I don't think he would've stayed coherent enough to make choices."

Mrs. Riley found herself relaxing a little. "Simon knows how to dissociate. Hopefully that's what he did when they... took him. I understand there's certain things you can't tell me. I do. What can you tell me? Before I go in this room. What should I know?"

The nurse paused in front of the door. "I wouldn't normally do this. I need you to understand. But I think someone he's close to should understand what happened." She put the file on a small table nearby. "I'm going to walk away. Just go in when you're ready."

Mrs. Riley smiled at her and waited a moment or two after she walked away before picking it up.

Broken ribs. Dislocated. Vivisections scars. Damage to multiple organs. A surgery had been done to remove internal scar tissue. Puncture wounds all over. Unknown wound on the ribs. Cuts along face. Wound from a previously healed over slit throat. Signs of starvations. Signs of rape. Burns along feet, potentially from walking on hot ground. Scorpion stings on hands and wrists.

There were more, but most were cuts or bruising. Horrible, but nothing like what she had just read.

Mrs. Riley should've taken a moment to compose herself, but she couldn't. She didn't even put the file back on the table, just dropped it and went inside.

There he was. For the first time since he was six years old, he looked small. There were so many bandages, especially around his mouth. But his eyes were exposed. Along with dark hair that had grown out and fell in his face now. For a brief moment, his heart rate spiked in fear as he stared at her.

"There's my good boy." She said softly, walking over. She made herself walk slow and steady despite wanting to collapse. When he flinched away from her, it felt like she had her heart ripped out and picked apart. But he settled, his heart rate began to even back out.

He tried to talk but it seemed to pull something cause it winced in pain instead.

"Simon." His eyes went straight to her, soft and wet. "Blink once if i can take your hand."

One blink.

She grabbed it gently, cradling it. His hands dwarfed hers. There were so many scars. So much bandaging. Her eyes filled with tears and she could hear the heart monitor start to beep faster.

"I'm so glad I have you back, Simon." She rubbed his knuckles gently to calm him back down. "Tommy is outside when you want to see him."

It looked like he tried to sit up but the pained whimpering that came out of him made her sick.

"Sweetheart," she pressed his shoulders back gently, not liking the defocused look in his eyes. "please. Just stay still. Everything can wait. I promise. For once, just... let someone else be the strong one for you, alright?"

Mrs. Riley pulled up a chair and held his hand. Before long, he fell asleep, though he fought it to the bitter end. Tommy was allowed back eventually and she wasn't prepared for how fast he just fell apart.

Her poor boys.

Simon went to comfort him but was luckily stopped by both of them before he could hurt himself. He looked miserably at both of them but Tommy hit the pain med button for him and he relaxed back into a blissful and hopefully pain free sleep.

Mrs. Riley could be strong. She knew she could. Whatever Simon needed, he'd get.

[statementlou]

Hi, how was your show!!!??

Thank you for asking! It was great, OBVIOUSLY. I saw Louis play a short set in late 2019, but was not able to go to Walls tour, so this was my first time at a proper tour show (in Berkeley last night) and it was brilliant! I have been trying to figure out what to say besides that though cause tbh there are two posts I want to make. So… both? First for my recap- it was so loud, like the music was just normal concert loud but I had to plug my ears against the screaming between songs cause it was way louder- I just figured it was the in person experience difference but no, Louis confirmed, “you guys have been so fucking loud in here tonight, it's actually been hard for me to hear” so GO US! The chokingly thick haze of weed smoke (“I already feel the energy, I already feel the love, I can already smell the weed,” he was not fucking kidding) to usher in HIC in California (and all the other songs lol) didn’t diminish the energy a bit! Truly, there is nothing like the energy of shared live music, and meeting eyes of other fans (through the trees) and sharing that excitement. And seeing actual physical unmediated Louis, just existing in space being a real live human, yeah. Something.

I was like I'm not gonna bother to take pictures or anything, I just want to dance and hear and look, everyone else's pics will be better anyway but then the TECH, you guys know how much I love the fucking aesthetic of this tour and the screens were SO PRETTY in real life!! So in fact I KEPT getting my phone out for that so like... good one tech crew, you got me. Look for many low quality aesthetic posts of the screens incoming, sorry not sorry. Common People was SO PRETTY, his voice was so clear and lovely and I'm so glad that's been added in. WDBHG went HARD live, holy shit, SO FUN (tho tbh me as Louis thinking I know all the words to that song but it turns out there are a lot? And I do not? At least I was in the best possible company fumbling and mumbling through parts.) Heartbroken I didn’t get Saturdays live (honestly the one song I think might have been my exception to the next thing I’m gonna say) but so thankful for BTM🖤

But part two of this post is to say that watching the livestreams with you all is also brilliant and special and also lets me experience the beauty of Louis’ voice and presence and connection and the feeling of experiencing something together. I wasn’t able to go last year, and I know some of you (many many thousands worldwide!) won’t be able to go this year either or maybe ever, and I know you are seeing the posts telling you there is nothing like being there and you can't really know or appreciate Louis/ Louis’ voice/ the experience unless you are there in person and it feels sad and I want to tell you that I have done the research now and I don’t think that is true. Most people who go to the show won’t have a Y/N moment and be Perceived by Louis or be at barricade, and I don’t think the experience we are having online together is less real or profound than the live experience. His voice sounded fucking gorgeous and soaring and I loved it, but even if you are there it is mediated by all kinds of tech; I imagine getting to be present for an acoustic performance really would be something that couldn’t be replicated but I think a really good live through a clear speaker or a nice quality show video is in fact just fine. Some of the songs did hit me harder in person and get my blood pumping in a different way, yes- but others I actually think I get a fuller experience of in a chiller more focused environment when everything isn’t flying by as quickly. Like I don’t think the megamix would impact the way it does (UGH I LOVE IT SO MUCH) if I just saw it live once and done, for example. Anyway I’m just saying if you can’t make your own (go to the show) store bought is fine (hang with us at stream time! or just whatever online content). While I never intend to watch every stream in fact I am usually right here and love to chat and squee with people, come hang out, or just watch some videos and enjoy the magic.

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @vanoincidence, @realmackross TIMING: June 19th, midday SUMMARY: Van runs into Mack out in the wild! WARNINGS: None!

Van bit the inside of her cheek, phone half sticking out of her back pocket as she leaned down to grab the weeds that’d somehow gotten stuck between her wheel and axle out. “How does this,” she breathed, yanking away, “always happen!” The past few days had been a blur, and if she were being honest with herself, she preferred it that way. It was easier to not focus on the feeling of helplessness that’d overcome her time and time again. With her car… inoperable for the time being (or at least until she’d gotten enough money for new tires and a new door), she was using her bike and board a lot more often than not. But even those were malfunctioning. 

She looked up from the bench she sat on, gaze darting around the common for any familiar faces. Van had run into plenty of people here already. Some good, some bad. But she hadn’t expected to see Mackenzie Ross in the flesh! She stared, jaw slackening. While television shows with real people weren’t exactly her favorite, she did recognize Mackenzie. Keep it cool, Van. What the hell was someone like Mackenzie was doing in Wicked’s Rest, she had no idea, but did that matter? The anxiety she wore like a second skin was replaced by another type– but this was excitement, she realized. 

The blonde was heading her way and Van tried desperately to think of what she should do. Throw her board at her? No, that was too much, and what if it actually hurt her? Maybe let it roll down the small hill towards her? Go after it? That was a good idea! 

Van dropped her board onto the ground and it started to roll away, down towards Mackenzie, only veering into the grass. Oh god, what if Mackenzie was a jerk who didn’t care about runaway rides? She hopped up from the bench and started to walk quickly towards the board. And then, when she was close– “Sorry, sorry– Oh my god, Mackenzie Ross?” So much for being subtle.

---

Mackenzie had been lost in her own world. Since the 4th of July incident with Mateo, she only had so many more questions. Questions that any sane person would have thought she was making up, but there had to be someone locally who could help her. After all, this town was as strange as they came. At least the people had been nice for the most part, well aside from Mateo, but they were working on it, and him offering her brains and alcohol after shooting her with a Roman candle had been a solid start. It had also taken her mind off of some of the other crap that constantly floated around in her brain when she was lucid enough and not talking like a cavewoman.

Pulling out her phone and switching to a different song on her Spotify playlist, Mackenzie almost didn’t see the skateboard coming her way, but luckily it had rolled into the grass beside her.

Hitting pause on the song she had currently switched to, Mack shoved her phone in the back pocket of her jeans. As she moved towards the board, she heard an apologetic voice, until it switched to one of surprise. Shit. She had been recognized again. Wicked’s Rest wasn’t turning out to be that private after all, but it was okay. This girl had been the first of the day, and she could handle it as long as it didn’t become a thing like it was at A Quiet Place.

“I could lie and say no…or just ignore you, but that would make me an asshole, and I’m not an asshole.” She looked at the brunette with a defeated smile, before glancing back down at the longboard, “Is this yours?” Stepping on the back of it and forcing the opposite end to pop up in her hands, she held it out to return it, “Looks that this thing has some wear and tear on it. Have you been riding for a while?” Mackenzie would say one thing for the small town. She was able to have more meaningful conversations with people, unlike in Los Angeles and the surrounding areas where paparazzi like to hide around every corner. At least here, her picture hadn’t been taken yet. Well as far as she knew.

---

Van’s brows furrowed as Mackenzie laid out the options for their meeting. The anxiety of never meet your idols rose in her, but she pushed it away. What Mackenzie Ross would want with her, anyway, she wasn’t sure. It was stupid to even try. She shouldn’t have pushed the board. She should have walked past her. Of course famous people didn’t want to be bothered. But the most famous person she had met prior to this was Nora and Van wasn’t even sure she was famous anymore. Famously missing, maybe, but Van wasn’t sure how to bring that up without offending her friend. 

“I–” she looked down at the board that Mackenzie was now kicking up into her hand. Van took it from her gratefully, hooking her fingers at the axle. “It’s um.. yeah, awhile. I got it when I was fourteen.” Before everything went to shit, but it was consistent and while she had a skateboard at home that was a little newer, the longboard was her tried and true. 

“You ride, too?” Of course Mackenzie Ross rode skateboards. Of course. Van felt the weight of this meeting heavy on her shoulders and she willed the world to let her have at least this and not to have anything weird happen. “What are you doing in Wicked’s Rest? This town is, like, totally boring and not cool.” She held her board across her stomach now, looking at Mackenzie expectantly as if Van deserved her whole life story. But the anxiety still bubbled, and it was hard to ignore, so she cleared her throat. “Sorry, I just never expected to run into anyone as famous as you here!” Yeah, that was better.

---

It wasn’t that Mackenzie hated interacting with people. She had always loved meeting fans and just having conversations in general. She had even started going to conventions, until that one kid bit her, and she had to have stitches. But overall most people had been kind or just generally excited to meet her. Even she got like that. Everytime she talked to Taylor, she got a little starstruck. However, after everything that had happened with Dropped and Brody, she had pulled away from the public. Multiple reasons had left her afraid to be around people for long periods of time, and because of that, it made her heart hurt.

“So you’re, like, close to pro level then, huh?” She smiled, but her tired eyes said otherwise. It was hard to lie through your eyes, and it had been a skill that Mackenzie always had to work at for as long as she had been acting. Sure, she had picked up a few tricks along the way, but this was real life, and she didn’t feel like lying to the person standing in front of her anymore than she had to. She just wanted to be seen as a real person and not someone on a screen.

---

“Uh, yeah. I’ve been riding for a little while. Stopped for a while, but I think now might be the time to get back into it. I just ride a cruiser. Nothing special.” What was she doing in Wicked’s Rest? Trying to avoid fans and paparazzi on every corner. “Just needed a break after some things happened.” It was in the media and all over the news. Considering the girl standing in front of her was a fan, Mackenzie figured she probably already knew the latest rumors going around. “You’re fine. I take it you guys don’t get a lot of people around here in my line of work then?”

Van was only observant when she wanted to be. She should have noticed the way that Mackenzie was visibly exhausted. But instead, she only saw the woman that she had fawned over on television. She’d always been impressed by her ability to bring her characters to life on the screen, and with her stunts, too! It was all so cool, and Van still couldn’t believe that she’d ended up in Wicked’s Rest of all places. A little confusing, maybe, but still really cool. Maybe Mackenzie was here researching for a role? Despite all of the information about Mackenzie that’d been put on blast after her fiance’s passing, Van had zero to no clue that she was no longer acting. “Oh, I wish I were! That would be really cool.” Maybe one day she’d be good enough at something to tell the person asking that yes, she was. 

As Mackenzie explained her choice of board, Van nodded as if it made the most sense in the world. “We could totally shred together if you wanted.” Who said that? Who said shred? It was like she’d gotten transplanted in Lords of Dogtown. “Yeah, that makes sense. I mean, this town kind of sucks, but I guess it’s small enough.” People would recognize her still, didn’t she know that? This town had people. “In your line of work? No, only mimes!” She wasn’t sure about that. There were performers of different kinds, but they were a little too weird for Van’s liking, so she avoided them. It was rich, coming from her. “But you’re much cooler than a mime.” She nodded as if to solidify her statement. She held onto her board loosely, letting it scrape the sidewalk slightly as she leaned it against her leg. “It’s so cool that you’re here though. I’m sorry if I’m being super weird, I’ve just never met someone famous.” She paused, eyebrows furrowing, “unless you count the Pikachu mascot that I saw in New York that I’m almost sure was a scam, but you know..!” She shrugged with a laugh before realizing she was going off track. “Sorry. I’m just. You’re right, we don’t get a lot of people in your… line of work out here.”

---

“Keep at it, and someday you will be.” It was ingrained in her DNA. Giving compliments to people she talked to meant it left a good impression on them. She would be seen as kind and it would boost popularity points. It was all a part of the calculated way Mackenzie had to handle things as someone in the public eye. And it wasn’t because she didn’t want to be nice. There were just some days when she wanted to be open and honest and not be all smiles. Not the media darling most saw her as. Some days she wanted to cuss like a sailor. Give the inconsiderate Karen a glare for judging her generation and what they thought was right for the world. Eat without cameras and eyes constantly staring her down. It was exhausting, but it was the life she had been given and the one she was most used to.

Hearing the word ‘shred’ made the actress snort, but Mackenzie had seen it before with so many people. They were nervous, and as much as she wanted them not to be, she could understand the feeling. She still got nervous around certain people and said funny things, “Sure. We can shred.” Her smile had brightened at that point, until the girl standing in front of her had mentioned that the town had sucked, “Really? I don’t think it’s that bad. But I’ve only been here a couple of months.” The town did have character. That was for sure. And she had seen an array of people at Dance Macabre. Surprisingly enough, she occasionally got recognized, but most people there wanted to have a good time and dance the night away. Not paying attention to the bartender serving their drinks. Plus, she always had the ‘I get that a lot’ line in her back pocket if need be. “Well I appreciate it. I thought pantomime could be a way to branch out, but I’ve been getting some pretty interesting reactions from people, so I’m thinking a different hobby might be the way to go.” Dance it was. And maybe songwriting, if she could get back into it and find somebody to write with.

“Honestly, you’re not any weirder than what I’ve seen in the past. I had a fan bite me once. That was fun.” She rolled up her sleeve on her right arm to show off the scar from the bite marks, before pulling it back down. “Needless to say, conventions are now off the table permanently.” She shuddered to think about that day and the consequences that followed - still not realizing the biggest one. That whoever bit her had been infected with the zombie virus. “I mean as long as they didn’t charge you a ridiculous amount and you had fun, I think it still counts…” Mack knew exactly what she was talking about, and often veered away from the mascots and furries that roamed the streets of Hollywood and New York. “I don’t think I caught your name…” Mack stuck out her hand to formally introduce herself, “Mackenzie Ross, but you can call me Mack.”

---

A compliment like that coming from somebody like Mackenzie Ross could have ended Van completely. The urge to go home and take to the forums, to explain that everyone speculating why Mackenzie had disappeared from the public was wrong, overshadowed pretty much anything else at that moment. Van wanted to defend this woman she didn’t really know with her life. Or, maybe with a few words on the internet. She was practically glowing at the idea that Mackenzie thought she could have been something, despite never really having any kind of dream for herself. 

“Only a couple of months..” She trailed off slightly, brows furrowing. That meant that Mackenzie hadn’t been introduced to the most terrible things the town had to offer. But how had she hidden in plain sight, right under her nose? Then again, she’d been so busy with so many things that it made it hard to pay attention to the exciting things. Okay, maybe busy was an exaggeration. Though, she had been fighting for her life a couple of different times. “I hope that you decide it doesn’t suck for a while longer.” It was the best wish she could give Mackenzie, she realized. There was no way that Mack Ross had disappeared from the city of angels just to learn pantomiming, right? No way. “You should try something else!” Van wanted to ask if the blonde was researching for another role, but even Van knew that the internet had its evidence of Mackenzie’s reason for stepping away, even if she didn’t want to listen to any of it. “If you ever need any tips, I can help you.” With what, Van wasn’t sure, but was she ever going to get a chance like this again?

“A fan bit you? That’s so gross, I’m so sorry.” The idea of being bitten by somebody she didn’t know made her feel sick to her stomach, for more than one reason. Van looked at the bite mark nervously before looking back up to meet the blonde’s eyes. “Uh, yeah, and I don’t blame you.” Did you press charges? Van wondered how many other things Mack had gone through that weren’t revealed to the public, and though she knew she didn’t deserve any of that knowledge, a part of her did want to know. “I know who you are! You don’t need to introduce yourself to me.” A nervous laugh bubbled in Van’s chest as she stuck out her own trembling hand. She took a deep breath, trying her best at a convincing, though nervous smile. “Van! Not like the car.” 

---

Mackenzie noticed Van’s hand shaking. She always found it fascinating the way people would act around her. But she had learned a long time ago never to put people on a pedestal. The lesson came after she had met someone she had looked up to and admired for most of her life, only to work with them and find they weren’t the most pleasant person to walk the Earth. And she knew they had their reasons, but even on days when she felt like she just couldn’t, she still managed to find kindness. You could still be nice, and not be all smiles and super friendly.

Giving her a firm handshake, she pulled back her hand and shoved it back down in her pockets, “It’s nice to meet you Van, not like the car.” A warm, welcoming smile spread across her face. “And yeah, I’m at least gonna try and stick it out for a while. It’s not what I’m used to, but I like the house I’m living in and the view is pretty nice. Plus, the few people I have interacted with haven’t seemed too terrible.” Mackenzie was hoping it would lead to some friendships with people. It was nice having a few close friends in your corner, especially when you just wanted to get your mind off of things. Living life alone had been so hard, when she had grown up in the spotlight with all eyes on her most days, “Oh? What would you recommend? Miming isn’t set in stone. I’m just looking for fun things to do.” Anything that didn’t involve hordes of people, she was down for these days.

“Just a part of life in the spotlight I guess. Funny thing was they never tried to reach out or anything afterwards. And I never pressed charges. I probably should have…” The last part had been more to herself than anything, but sometimes she still wondered why the person did it. What was the desire in biting somebody? If it was to leave a permanent mark on Mackenzie, they certainly did along with several stitches and a tetanus shot.

---

Van kept her smile up as she withdrew her hand, pulling it to her chest. Mauricio would freak out knowing she had met Mackenzie Ross. Something finally happened in Wicked’s Rest that wasn’t absolutely terrible! Go figure! She would definitely rub it in Leila’s face, that was for sure. “Oh, I’m sure it’s awesome!” When you had money, you could make just about anywhere nice. But Van didn’t think that Mackenzie was that type of person– the one who’d shove their wealth in everybody’s faces. Maybe she needed a break from everything. Wicked’s Rest was usually in the news, but for nefarious reasons. Maybe she’d be safe here with all the weird sleepwalking people got into here. “I’m glad you like it though, it can be a little weird sometimes.” She scrunched her nose. 

“No, miming sounds super cool! If you want to do it, you should totally try it out! But there are, like, a ton of other things.” She tried to think about the plethora of options that Wicked’s Rest had to offer, but wasn’t sure if Mackenzie would be exactly down for any of them. “There’s hiking, if you like to do that. I don’t really like it, because I hate sweating, but there are some really nice trails! I’ve seen them in pictures.” She grinned at Mackenzie, thinking of what she might see on instagram down the road. Then again, she’d been too caught up in her own drama to notice that the actress hadn’t updated it in awhile. 

Van nodded seriously, considering what pain she went through after being bitten. Even if she hadn’t gotten sick, it must have been traumatizing. “I’m really sorry that happened to you, that like… really blows.” Van probably would have quit acting after that, honestly. “But hey, we gotta live in the moment, right?” She tilted her head to the side, considering what she had said and it holding no actual weight since she did not live life in the moment. 

---

“I’m blessed to be able to escape and still have a place to go.” Even if it is very empty and lonely. The last thing Mackenzie had wanted was to have run. To have left everyone and everything she ever cared about behind. And now her life consisted of standing here talking to a stranger about pantomiming. It was definitely not on her bingo card for the year or ever really, “Thank you. And thanks for your kindness. I feel like most people just want a picture or autograph and that’s it. I’ve really enjoyed our conversation. Knowing that people like yourself reside here makes me think I may have made the right choice.” Was running really ever the right choice? Especially when murder was on the table?

“Have you done it? Would you try it?” Mack had gotten so many different answers about miming and whether or not to do it. At this point she had somewhat second guessed herself, and it didn’t help that she still didn’t have a clue where most things were around Wicked’s Rest. If you included the many parks, the beach, and neighborhoods it wasn’t the smallest place, but it did have that small town vibe with privacy, for the most part, and that’s why the decision to stay here was getting a little easier. “Okay, I think you just spoke the magic words, because I absolutely love hiking and really doing anything outdoors. Case and point.” She motioned to Van’s skateboard.

Looking back up, Mackenzie shrugged her shoulders, “You really don’t have to apologize. It’s very sweet, but unless you were the person who bit me, which I don’t think you are, it is what it is.” If only she had known that the actions of one person had had so many consequences in her life. “But you’re right. Carpe diem.” The last time Mackenzie had really lived in the moment, she ate Brody. Maybe living in the moment when she was hungry wasn’t the best idea, “Uh, so I was actually headed to grab a bite to eat.” Lies. “Do you want to come?”

---

Van couldn’t fully understand Mackenzie’s contentment with simply existing, but she could understand being grateful for having somewhere to go. After everything that had happened between herself and her grandma, at least she was left with the house. Then again, it was her parents’ to begin with, and it had been her name on the will. Her lips pressed into a line and she nodded. “I like that. I’ll start using that.” Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn’t. She could use positivity in her life, even if she didn’t necessarily believe in it. When Mackenzie commented on the fact that she hadn’t asked for an autograph, she kicked herself. She was definitely hoping for one, but now that she had impressed her by not asking for one, she couldn’t just ask! 

“Oh, yeah, totally. I’m like, super chill. The coolest of the cool, ice cold and all that.” Van felt the nerves bubble in the pit of her stomach and she did her best to shoo them away. The last thing she wanted was to give Mackenzie the impression that she couldn’t be chill. Because she totally could. “I hope that nobody else bites you while you’re here.” She’d heard about it being something that happened, and even if it was weird, it wouldn’t happen twice to one person, would it? “Miming? No, I don’t think so. Not really my thing.” She could be quiet, but she really liked to talk, and she thought she made too many noises of discontent to really get the whole mime thing down. “But I think that you could totally do it if you really wanted to.” 

Van looked down at her board and she nodded. “This is the limit. I’ll scrape my knees, but I really don’t want poison ivy on my shins.” If Maine even had poison ivy. She wasn’t really sure. At Mack’s joke, Van shook her head. “No! No way. I’ve never been to Los Angeles either, so like, there’s no way I would have done that.” She had bitten somebody once, but they deserved it. And it didn’t leave a scar like that. Slightly shocked by Mack’s invitation, she pointed towards herself with her index finger. “You want to have lunch with me?” Oh god. She wasn’t prepared for this. Where would she take Mackenzie Ross? All she had was a hundred bucks in her checking account, and Mack Ross was, like, famous, so that probably meant somewhere fancy would be the choice. “Um…” She bit her lip, deciding that going into further debt might be worth it, “hell yes I do!” She practically pumped her arm into the air, board above her head. She winced slightly at the amount of excitement she was exuding, tucking her board to her chest again. “I mean, yeah, that’d be really cool. Um.. do you have any favorites yet?” Please don’t be expensive, please don’t be expensive. “I could get you a sick discount on some pizza, if you wanted?” Van added as an afterthought.

---

It wasn’t exactly how she had seen her day going running into a fan and having a full blown conversation, but it had been nice. Van was actually really sweet and it was nice getting some input of fun things to do in the area, “Hey, you don’t have to be anyway but yourself around me. I’m not that special. Trust me.” Mackenzie wanted Van to feel comfortable. Sometimes when people got super nervous or super excited around her, it became awkward, and she was just grateful that today hadn’t been one of those days, “I hope nobody bites me too.” Or that I don’t bite anybody. Mackenzie knew she wasn’t alive anymore, but she hadn’t thought about the consequences of biting or scratching somebody else. It was still too much for her to process that she had to survive off of brains, if she wanted to stay Mackenzie Ross.

“I don’t think it’s a lot of people’s thing, except maybe those people who work at that restaurant.” Mackenzie shrugged, “Maybe I’ll stick with youtube videos.” It would be better than potentially getting scammed from someone who claimed to know about miming, but didn’t.

Mack followed Van’s eyes back down to the board. She had a point. Scraped knees were one thing, but constantly scratching because of some devil plant was another. She had experienced this torture first hand on one of the movies she was working on, and it was horrible. But what was even worse had been the nest of yellow jackets she accidentally walked over while filming the same movie. She was down for several days after that incident. The young actress shuddered at the thought, before snapping out of a flashback, “You know, you have a point. Poison ivy is not fun and neither are yellow jackets. But I am glad to know these aren’t your teeth marks on my arm.” She laughed. “And yeah, I do want to have lunch with you.” I can’t taste anything, but it’s something that keeps me busy and not alone, so here we are. “I love pizza. Especially pineapple and jalapeno. And, like, the spicier the better.” Mackenzie was glad she had opted to stay and talk, and because of it, she had made another new friend in a town that was starting to feel a little less lonely each day. “Lead the way.”

[ashlingiswriting]

the nations favorite writer - offer us any advice? going through a writers block rn

oh god i’m so sorry this took me so long, things got crazy for a second and i forgot 😭 thoughts below!

here (1, 2) are a couple posts that seem pretty helpful, but now i’m just gonna talk about what helped me with my last bout of writer’s block because i can still remember it in detail

again this is all just my own observations about myself because that’s kinda all i have—i’m no expert

i had too many other things going on and i did need to cut down on other hobbies a bit (in this case, i had to cut down on rp) because those other things all were...relatively small tasks and they took less time, so my brain would often go “hey what about this short and rewarding task vs this long and intimidating task?”

which goes hand in hand with training your focus—i think my phone really does impact that in a bad way. reading books helps with training focus, as does muscling through. i know muscling through goes contrary to a lot of advice, but it helped me. because a lot of times, i would start writing a scene and go, ‘wow, i hate this!’ but knowing that i didn’t have another idea of what to do, i just kept going until i realized why it felt wrong. and there were like...four or five different breakthroughs like that when i was writing my latest chapter. just ‘OHHHHHHHHH’ moments that i got to only after writing like a thousand or more words that i would not end up putting in the fic. it is NOT always like this but if you’re really blocked, sometimes it’s just cause you’re writing a genuinely emotionally complicated and crucial bit and your brain has to go down the wrong path a few times before it figures out the right one

part of that is figuring out what you feel about your current scene? like, sitting down and writing a certain scene, i would go, ‘no, this feels wrong, i don’t like it, i hate it’ and sure enough my instincts were right. it WAS bad. it was bad because it focused too much on the logistics and details of a side plot when i didn’t want to waste all that precious real estate and audience attention on something that was not connected to the core of my story. but i didn’t fully realize that till i was done. it was still good that i’d written out the long version, because it laid out all the information i needed (plus a bunch i didn’t, but still). idk. i love editing more than writing on a blank page. i love cutting more than i love creating. this may be a me thing.

could also be something went wrong earlier on, like your actual scene idea is quite good but you didn’t lay enough emotional or plot foundation for it to hit as hard as you want it to? reread your previous bits of fic and see if you can find the problem there?

i think peer pressure and/or friendship are huge for this—i don’t mean peer pressure as in ‘silly anti-drug advertisements where all the cool kids try to make you do weed’ i mean ‘hanging out in a community of writers & artists and/or with friends where there’s an atmosphere of people lowkey always working on their craft, whatever that may be’. because truly i think it helps keep writing top of mind & sort of normalizes the emotional struggles. plus the camaraderie is really nice! 

my current home of choice is the narcos fandom discord (which is only about 25% about narcos fandom at this point lbr) but i know there’s a ton of different places out there to be a fic writer in community with other fic writers, so take your pick. i will say that not every community is perfect and i think the ideal community strikes a balance between participation & low stress—that is, people support each other but they don’t feel like they have homework-reading they have to do that they’ll get penalized for not doing? yk? i’m rambling whoops

plus, getting a friend that is willing and HAPPY to talk through the fic with you—an editor, a beta reader, something like that—is a godsend. truly without bellinitini/narcolini i would literally not have even published chapter one of my current longfic. but the key is to find someone who genuinely is interested or who is willing to do a bit of a swap; you help them with theirs, they help you with yours.

and then there’s the audience for longfics, which may or may not apply to you. cannot lie, rereading comments, even for previous fics that are unconnected, is extremely motivating! maybe that’s just me! (i don’t think that’s just me) on that note, if you’re feeling real desperate you can always reblog ask games about your WIPs so that you can interact with your audience a bit?

you could always try to take in more art—that’s usually pretty refreshing for me. canon review is great, but taking in other stuff (fictional books especially) can make your brain start thinking in different ways, especially if your brain is a bit spongy like mine and tends to absorb little bits of other writer’s styles if you chug a lot of them. you could try to find books that deal with the same setting, the same themes, or the same relationship dynamics.

so for example, i read colorless tsukuru tazaki and his years of pilgrimage by haruki murakami in prepping for my next chapter of richiefic because richie references it in season 2. and genuinely, reading it made me understand his character a bit better. but i also have a character going to prison, so i have read some of the works of george pelecanos (the novel drama city and several short stories), because pelecanos deals with the justice system in a way that i think is admirably clearsighted, not melodramatic, very honest. i’m fixing to reread some of the parade’s end series because ford madox ford is, to me, one of the greatest of all time when it comes to complicated conversations where two characters are completely legible to the audience—completely understandable—while struggling through emotionally complicated conversations with each other. and i am about to try and get some more books set in women’s prisons + books set in modern day chicago. reading stuff with the context of “i’m about to write something related to this” is such a good way to read stuff, too. just feels really good and sometimes you need a positive feeling when you’re struggling through the depths of depair i mean writer’s block.

movies and tv are good too, though imo they’re not as helpful. i...personally avoid reading other people’s fanfic like the plague if they’re dealing with a specific pairing whose longfic i’m struggling to finish.

just putting it down and coming back in two-three weeks sometimes helps. couldn’t tell you why.

and finally. you could always drop the fic. it feels shitty for a while, but if the muse has genuinely left you for good, you deserve to enjoy the freedom instead of just like...struggling onwards indefinitely. this has happened to me with longfics before and it always makes me sad. but sometimes there is genuinely nothing you can do, and in those cases, forgive yourself <3 this is a hobby, after all

my top three recommended tactics, without knowing details of your situation, are: talk with a friend/editor, take in more art, muscle through. in that order.

i hope that helped??? i’m very sorry about your writer’s block, it’s the worst thing in the world. and i’m sorry that it took me so long, i need to be more organized

[cubertthecube]

Hello! Excuse me for jumping in your DMs, but I'm a little confused about myself and I wanted to ask you a question if that's okay. How did you know you were in a system? Can you tell when someone different fronts? And what does that feel like? I think I may be plural myself and I'm having a hard time understanding what I'm feeling.

You do NOT need to reply to this if this is too invasive or uncomfortable, and if it is, I'm super sorry!

1. How did you know you were in a system

I'm gonna be honest, I got way too high. That's how I found out. If I never smoked weed, I genuinely think I'd still be blissfully unaware.

When I turned 18, my best friend's mom gave me some edibles. Maybe not the best decision, but like free drugs. Obviously, having never consumed weed before, I had no tolerance. This led to me "teleporting" around and feeling like I was floating away.

For a while, I was convinced that I broke my brain because it kept lingering. I was still teleporting. I was still feeling like I was floating away. Then it suddenly hit me that I've always felt like that. Turns out, weed makes me disassociate. I started having a bit of a substance abuse problems when I realized this because, my exact words if I remember correctly, "it already feels like I'm high, I'm just making it so that it feels less weird because now I'm supposed to be high". I looked into it for a while, but was like, "Nahhh, but there aren't any guys in my brain though. I'd KNOW"

And so, once again, I got way too high and someone else fronted that was very much objectively "not me". It was a young child who couldn't talk. Up to this point, me and my friend were making "jokes" that I had it. Like obviously there is more to it than that, and I'm not endorsing drugs. That's just how it worked out for me.

Looking back, there were many warning signs, but I am still sometimes I'm worried that I'm experiencing psychosis because I'm pretty sure I experienced psychosis in middle school, but also I have a tendency to exaggerate things in my head so maybe I was just being normal imaginative thinking that everyone around me wasn't real and that I was dead. Idk idk. (Whoopsie, trauma dump)

But like looking back, there were some clues. I remember having time gaps. Like there is video evidence that I was in a play as a kid and I remember practicing for it, but I also remember being very frustrated that "I practiced all for nothing because every adult in my life just stopped talking about it for some reason" but also maybe that's normal 4 year old stuff.

I also remember in 6th grade being confused why the moment I left science class, I'd not remember science class.

I used to "talk to Jesus" kind of like how I "talk" to the other guys in my head. Idk. Maybe Jesus did that stupid church play. (I have no actual proof that I had a Jesus alter)

When hanging out with people, sometimes I'd feel genuinely out of control with my actions. Like I couldn't stop myself from doing somethings. Or like I'd be doing stuff that I wasn't actively trying to do.

The teleporting thing I mentioned earlier

Being told by my best friend how inconsistent I was. "I thought you hated eggs". It was mostly food. I just chalked that one up to Autism. I chalked most of these things up to Autism.

Sometimes when I "spaced out" I'd have multiple trains of thoughts and I'd randomly come into them.

I'm kind of banking rn, I'm gonna be honest

2. Can you tell when someone different fronts?

Kind of. Sometimes it feels like different moods and the moods have feelings. Sort of. That's what it felt like before I actually knew what was happening. I just assumed it was because I was autistic and masking. Like I noticed I acted distinctly different in social situations, but once again assumed it was masking. And that when I was masking, I was also masking my opinions and feelings.

Now since I'm more aware, it's easier. The three easiest to tell are Klause (that's me), Winter, and Bowie. Bowie can't talk and the thought of talking makes her want to throw up. Technically she can talk, but it makes her anxious. That's pretty easy to figure out. She's also pretty childish.

Winter has more disassociation than everyone else and is just really easy to tell. It's hard to explain.

And I think I might just be biased towards myself. I'm fairly childish, but in an adult way. Me and Winter have been the main fronters recently so Its kind of like If it isn't him, it's probably me. Our friend is honestly better at telling than us.

There are two main kind of switches. Possessive and nonpossesive. Ours are nonpossesive. It's kind of hard to explain, but it's more like there is a single consciousness but it morphs into who's fronting. There's still consciousness, though.

3. What does it feel like?

This one is kind of a hard one since I've lived with it for basically my whole life that I can remember. It's kinda like asking what being Autistic feels like I guess.

It depends on who it is.

I genuinely can't explain this super well. But some of the alters have specific vibes almost? Like one of them feels like a nostalgic smell I can never place. I can't remember which one does this because I'm super sleepy. It's 3 AM for me and I was moving. I was typing this in-between that so if it's disjointed I'm really sorry. I like answering questions and maybe you'll get a different view point from someone else next time Lol.

-Klause

Also don't worry about it being invasive or uncomfortable. I like being asked questions

[mosscoveredpawss]

My story is a bit long lmao sorry!

See, when I was 11 "Tumblr cringe" was big and it was hard to go without finding a "worst Tumblr posts of this month" type video. So I watched them, and of course, the concept of "otherkin" was mentioned frequently. Now alot of those posts in those video followed the beat of "I started crying because I passed by the produce section of my local grocery store because I'm plantkin." Or "my school wouldn't allow me to eat raw meat during lunch because I'm wolfkin." For those of you unaware, those type of posts were fake and were made by people who wanted to make therians and otherkin look bad. Good news is those type of accounts have been weeded out of our community. 💚

I was in denial for a while. "Wow this is so cringe, I would never do something like that. I mean, I really like wolves but that doesn't mean I'm not human."

*loud incorrect buzzer*

Then of course I saw that one "documentary." You know the one..."on all levels accept physical, I am a wolf." This documentary at the time really opened my eyes, these were real therians talking about real experiences. Now that I'm older I realize that that documentary did not really shine the best light on us, but it was such an important part of how I came to realize I was a therian when I was younger.

So for about a year or so I identified as wolfkin, and you know what? I was happy, I ran around in my backyard wearing a yarn wolf tail and I was happy. (Masks were not a big thing in 2017 but if they were I would have been ALL over that.)

Next thing I did was try to join some online communities to connect with other therians and otherkin. My main way of doing this was through discord servers. I remember one server in particular had a channel where you could share your therian experiences and one of the admins would tell you if you're a "real therian" or not....yikes.

Many of these discord servers did not have a problem with the fact I was joining their server as a young person but more so that I was a young who was a therian. I was told by several people that I was too young to know that kind off stuff. Which is somewhat understandable, 11-14 year olds do still play pretend and have very active imaginations. But, it was difficult to be immediately shut down because "You're too young." Even with this guilt on my shoulders about being a "real therian" I still did my own thing. Still wore my tail around the house, still practiced vocals, still was myself.

"But Moss you're not wolfkin you're bearkin!" I hear you cry.

I remember the exact moment that my perspective about my alterhumanity had started to change. I was swimming in the public pool of my town, hotter than hot summers day. I remember I was going through a mental shift because I was in the water, I loved swimming and still do. The water made me feel like my true self. I went home and tried to do some research about wolves swimming...lo and behold, wolves don't really like to swim. Was I really a wolf? Was I some sort of different wolf that did like swimming? Do I have another kintype that I don't know about?

The conclusion I came to in the end was that I wasn't actually a therian, I was faking it all the whole time. I was a human who was doing weird stuff.

And that's what I was for the next 6 years, just a human. Now, this wouldn't change the fact I still had those animal feelings inside me, I just buried them away and chocked it up to being some weird part of my neruodiversity.

Fast forward to may of 2023 and I'm seeing the word "therian" pop up on YouTube and Tumblr. "Wow, this community is still kicking? I've got to check this out. Just to relive the nostalgia of my weird wolf kid phase-"

*GETS HIT WITH THE BEAR BEAM THAT MAKES YOU A BEAR/j*

After being reintroduced to the concept of alterhumanity, I came to terms that I'm not human and I never was. The community is so much more accepting now a days and now there are more words and terms that can help me express how I feel.

So...that's my story lmao.

Therians, pls tell me how you realized you were a therian. How do you know if you’re a therian? I think I may be a canine therian, but I actually have no clue. I need assistance in finding out if I’m a therian or not. 😭

[taeyamayang]

Hey hey hey! Sorry for the late reply but I FINALLY WROTE SOMETHING!! literally when you @‘d me the Ray Bradbury quote I was like “welp that’ll do it” and finished the kuroo Drabble. It’s def not my fav but it’s a start! After I wrote that I wrote a Yams story that was originally gonna be a part of a different series that I scrapped. But I really like the idea so I made it a one-shot. I really like it and am proud of it!! I just hope by the time you read this someone else besides me has read it 😅. I don’t Necessarily want it to blow up or anything but starting out as a fanfic writer is hard. How did you do it?

About the books thing growing up I lived with my grandparents and wasn’t really connected to the internet like kids my age were until like 8 (which is still v young but I grew up kinda fast so 8 was like 13 to me I guess) so I just read a lot cause we didn’t have much to do (and talking to people was hard- so books it was) besides watch the same old movies on VHS and play with Polly pockets. A lot of my toys were my aunts who was like a decade older than me as well. All of that was some of the reasons I identified a lot with the gen before me and I remember talking with my (other) aunt whose like nine years older and her friend reminiscing about when they were kids and I was like “ahh I remember those” and she’s like gIRL HOW U WERE LIKE TWO😭 fanfic has ruined actual books for me. Not saying fanfic is way better, and I still like to read actual books, but why get invested in all these new characters when you can read about the ones you already know and love? And plus it’s more convenient then actually carrying a book around.

OOH REMEMBER WHEN I TOLD YOU HOW I ALWAYS GET HIT WITH BALLS AND YOU WERE LIKE HEY THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD FANFIC IDEA? well that’s not exactly how it happened but guess what! I’m writting it! I have 630 words down so far so I know it’s at least gonna hit the 1000 mark at the rate I’m going. I’m so excited for you to read it!! Also I may take you up on the editing or what’s it called Beta reading? Where people read it over and give the ok to post? I was gonna do that with the Yams one shot but I was too excited! I will absolutely keep u in mind tho, thank you!!!

And for the thing about the schools and the pillows…I CANT BELIEVE I WAS RIGHT WHAT THE FUCK??? that is so wild to me omg. Also American tv is fucking weird when it comes to sex. Like when I was in high school only a few people had sex and it wasn’t a big deal? I mean I was very introverted and wasn’t popular so I might not be the best resource but still. Maybe it’s a newer thing not to care as much about sex with a more body positive gen or wherever but I don’t really think peer pressure or anything was a big deal. Honestly? Peer pressure in general barely exists anymore. Adults were always like “say no to peer pressure” when it was just one guy offering weed or whatever and a person saying nah and that was IT. I think there was more pressure in feeling left out if anything. The media is so weird portraying teens but we gotta remember- these are old people writting and producing these shows. They also get paid to make it dramatic and not realistic.

I hope everything worked out with your ex boyfriend/boyfriend! And I totally don’t think you are ranting and if you are, shot just call me a therapist LMAO. dating is so fucking messy. Everyone expects it to be certain kind of way and they get anxious when it’s not. People gotta learn that relationship differ for everyone and it’s ok to break up and move on when you feel like things aren’t working out! There doesn’t have to be hard feelings or anything either idk why society has to make breaking up so messy- I know it can be and things don’t always end well but they can end normally and you don’t need to feel bad about doing what’s best for both of y’all. Staying in a relationship that doesn’t feel right Is just bad for both parties. Then again, I’ve never really been in a relationship and I’m still a virgin because I’m demisexual and that strong connection is vital and I’m too fucking busy with my own shit to get that. But I think what I said still stands. Bruh I’ve been reading so much fanfic and while reading I’m like “wow this shit would never happen to me and my shy ass” bUT I STILL WANT A MEET CUTE!!! but I have to remember that I’m reading about anime men who are too good to be real LMAO. I have high standards ig. Finding a partner is gonna be fun. Also I know what you mean when you said being Intimate is hard because girls are taught to always say no to sex for multiple reasons. A. Religion and purity for being a female and slut shaming and B. R*pe and sexual assault. Like I listen to too many true crime stories! I know the statistics! And people just hook up with others??? Wtf??? Idk this might just be my demisexual ass but no thank youuuu

BRO I WISH I HAD SMALL FEET! THEY DONT MAKE CUTE SHOES FOR BIG ASS FEET LIKE MINEEEE. When I was a freshman I learned about how having small feet was attractive in china and how they would bind the feet of women to have small cute feet but I never heard of small feet being lucky. I did hear about big feet meaning big- uh I assume you know where I’m going with that.

I don’t read my journal that much cuz ig makes me wanna cry but I do read it when I feel particularly down. I still have contact with Kylie (I think I called her that- since i used fake names for them both) but we don’t talk much. Sadly I don’t have Daias number which makes me so sad cuz I miss her dearly.

Ok so the murder in my town was kinda on brand for it??? OK LEMME EXPLAIN. I live in an upper middle class town with good schools and such so a lot of wealthy families move here. Some areas of this town are more fancy than others (the farther away from downtown you are- i happen to live pretty close to downtown but ANYWAYS) even some big celebrities mentioned wanting to move here. my town has a pretty uppity spoiled reputation because of that. Like most of the crimes around here are from spoiled brats that get bored and do drugs or rob people. The culprit of this case was spoiled by his mother in every degree as a child and refused to be independent and when his mom cut him off he killed both of his parents and his one sister and her husband (bc the sister kept telling him and Their mom that he needs to get a life.) the sister and her husband live in the town over so technically it didn’t just happen in the town i live in (but!!! My old residental school was IN THAT TOWN! not the same area since they lived in the nice mansion part but still.) I also got lunch with my old teacher (the one with the books) and told her about the case and she original thought I was talking aBOUT A DIFFERENT MURDER! THAT HAPPENED EVEN CLOSER TO ME IN MY TOWN. she’s like “oh is it the case where the lady drowned her kids in the bathtub?” LIKE IM SORRY- WHAT??? she like “oh yeah it happened a lil while ago tho. The college bought the house and now they use it for administration or something since no one wanted to move there.” THIS IS THE SAME COLLEGE RIGHT DOWNTOWN!!! I PROBABLY WALKED PAST IT BEFORE WHEN I GOT LOST GETTING CUPCAKES. ok quick side note- my high school was downtown and we had free lunch where we can go off campus for food and I decided I wanted a cupcake from this cupcake place not that far from the school. Since I didn’t wanna be late I pulled up my old friend google maps to take me back the quickest way- THAT WAS A BAD IDEA!!!!! I ended up wayyyyy out of downtown and into this weird residental housing street soooo far away. I ended up calling my mom like “moooommmm…. I think I’m lost.” And she was like ???? “Aren’t u at school???” THEN I HAD TO SEND MY ADRESS AND SHE PICKED ME UP. I WAS SITTING ON THE SIDEWALK ALL ALONE AND SAD. I WAS LIKE 16!!! my mom wasn’t even mad LMAO. She just sighed and told me to get in. It was a good cupcake tho. ANYWAY BACK TO MURDER- apparently one of her students parents got murdered too or something like a decade ago… LET ME JUST RESTATE THAT I LIVE IN THE MOST PICKET FENCE UPPITY TOWN EVER. I know what I’m saying makes it look all shady but the town i live in is one of the safest towns in the country- let alone my state. It just goes to show a lot of shady things happen when you aren’t looking for them. A quick google search goes a looooong way if you know what I mean- hopefully that doesn’t scare you if it did I’m so sorryyyy lol.

I’ve heard a lot about some famous cases from Japan, like the one about the little girl that killed her classmate (THAT SOUNDS SO BAD OUT OF CONTEXT WTF) or the Kyoto Anime massacre and the Junko Furuta case. The last two are very interesting to me in different ways. The first because I’ve never heard of anything like that happening before and the outcome is very unique? If that is the right word and just different from other arson cases when it comes to the motive and even the aftermath is different, like the perpetrator being the first person to receive a full body artificial skin graft. And because Kyoto Animations is a very big anime company which produced movies and shows that I- a person so far away- has watched before. And the Junko Furuta case was one of the few cases that ever made me cry and stuck with me for a while (that makes me seem so cold blooded I just don’t cry often because when I do EVERYTHING comes out) - but it was some of the most gruesome shit I have ever heard. I feel like the way I’m mentioning them is kinda disrespectful but I don’t want to go into detail about them because A. It’s really depressing for a tumblr ask and B. I wouldn’t do the stories justice. You also probably know about them anyway since you also like true crime and live closer geographically but if not I heard both of these cases from the YouTuber I mentioned a few times before Elenor Neale. Junkos case is kind of similar to one that happened here about a girl named Sylvia Likens, just in terms of sheer brutality.

OK THATS ENOUGH MURDER! but I wish I lived closer to Japan, since my mom told me she’d take me there after I graduated at some point- but she needs to get on a smaller plane first since she’s never been on one and the first one she’s going on will not be the 14 hour flight to Japan. So now I’m kinda just waiting and saving up lol.

I believe you did tell me about hearing voices in your house! Very spooky indeed. One time in a different house, a doll appeared on my bed out of nowhere (apparently it was my aunts who gave me to Polly pockets so that part wasn’t that weird) but the doll had a gold necklace with a smiley face pendant with a big round nose. Everyone says they never seen it before and honestly? I believe them. I have no idea where it came from and I held it close to me (bc spooky things are cool) until my little sister got jealous and broke it smh.

OOOH IM SO EXCITED ABOUT YOUR STICKER BUSINESS!!! IT SOUNDS SO COOL! I don’t play Genshin myself but my best friend does so I know some things about it. Her fav character is childe so I know zhongli and how he’s a god of some sort that childe buys everything for. I know there is a best friend duo and one of them hunts ghosts (bc my bestie said they remind her of us) and i know that childe calls everyone comrade and he’s a fatui harbringer with a little brother who thinks he is a toy maker. Oh and pimon (I think is her name) is annoying and Klee is cute and makes bombs. Oh there’s also Ito who’s like an Oni that’s a himbo and Thoma (I like him a lot. He’s cute) with the lil doggo! Your Zhongli sticker is so cute!!!

I’m also glad you take time to chat with me!! It makes me so happy whenever I get these messages. I hope you like my writting! By the time you get this my bokuto fic should be out!!!

And here! Take some cat pics as a treat!

i'm back with a communicable brain. dude, would you believe that i am building a sleigh.. a freaking life sized santa sleigh for christmas?? it's for community competition and i was tasked to build a sleigh and 9 reindeers. ugh, it's fun but very tiring i might be able to show you the sleigh the next time i write to you.

i read feline antics and kuroo in your fic is canon!! omg lol and when you mentioned about yams fic i was like "wait...why is the fic not on my dash (considering that i have few mutuals/following)." then it turns out I DIDN'T FOLLOW YOU?? WHAT THE HECK i swear i thought i did last time i read feline antics but my pea brain forgot or thought i did (i'm very forgetful if you hadn't catch on yet. might as well name myself dori ffs) anyway, so i followed you and saw your yams fic and holy shit??? 6k?? DUDE 6K?? woah, i am so so proud of you because i remember you mentioned to me before that you couldn't write anything/one shots because you always tend to drop them off or left them unfinishes bUT 6K?? DAAAMN. i really like the way you portrayed yamaguchi's anxiety because it's raw, heartfelt in a way that i could feel his worries through your writing. i'm sorry if this entire paragraph is a commentary about your recent works gsmsbsns lol and about beta reading... ARE YOU SURE?? ME?? WHAT AM I?? kidding but i'm always down maybe we can talk over it on discord if you have one (i rarely open my dms here bc opening dms means opening notifications and if im not in the right mood to check notifs i tend to forget to reply to comments, ask games, etc. aghh you know that gsnsbs)

how i started out as a fic writer is not actually a plan lmao after watching haikyuu i reopened my dying tumblr blog bc i know that great artists thrive here so i wanted to check out artworks of haikyuu. then, i saw that a number of blogs writes for haikyuu and i was like "wow fics are still a thing here on tumblr, huh." then i tried writing my own and took my tendency to daydream about my fixations to my advantage. i love thinking about how these set of characters react to a situation (this prolly the reason why i took up psychology as a major lol i love observing people and their personality and behavior) then out of whim i posted. not really thinking of numbers or feedbacks, i posted bc i know that only a few people will get to see it so there are less judgments on me since i'm a beginner writer on this platform. then, as i kept posting more and more people came to my blog. and although now, i still am not a huge blog, it's always good to keep a mindset that you're writing for yourself (tho numbers are rewarding, we get that) and that the people who read your works doesn't know you. you can't be judged based on your writing bc that's just one side of who you are and it also comforts me to think that there people who genuinely enjoy my work. i'll be lying if i say that there are no times where my priorities lean towards writing for my audience. i did at one point but ended on a writer's block lol. if you keep it that way you'll end up burntout (this happened to me too before heh). so, in short, i started writing just because i can and i didn't really thought about the negative things people will think of me, i just did bc i enjoyed it. also, i think consistency plays a huge role in thisㅡnot only to keep people engaged but also to keep writing as a habit. if you make it a habit, your writing gets better and better. that's just based on my experience lol. alsooo tho one year of writing here is still a short-time, i have never encountered anyone calling me a shitty writer and to stop writing because my words are useless and childish LOL what i'm trying to say is worries about people judging you and your work doesn't happen often and if that ever happens, they're the problem, never yours. so yeah i keep that in mind too. AND if that ever happens to you, i'll be on the frontline defending you. leave the roasting to me lol.

about the tv shows and sex (i feel like i have to at least give a topic beforeni start a paragraph bc i reply SO LATE that i feel like you might have forgotten what we were talking about) i agree! it's more of the pressure of being left out. one is pressured to hangout after school because of the fear of not being included in a group. tho i was peer pressure to kiss someone in class for fun but i was like "uhm, nope!" so i made a petty (i think wise *wink*) excuse of going to the comfort room first before doing it but what i did was i went straight home without telling anyone. i am not doing that for their entertainment lol 💀and that's cool kids for you 💀

OH! ex boyfriend... uh.. it's a girlfriend 🤣 everything worked well so thanks! we broke up lmaooooo welp it's for the best. im onto finding a better match i guess lol bruuhh i get the strong connection but besides that i also want someone to balance me out. i'm literally just a speck of dust sometimes, you know floating and minding my own business aka my fixations and hobbies in life. kudos to you tho! you give spot on advice. i mean having zero experience is okay when you give out relationship advices bc to me i think that's a fresh perspective.

yeah, small feet are lucky. small faces are pretty. button noses are pretty. small curvy lips are pretty. everything has to be small to be lucky or pretty but eyes... IT HAS TO HUGE AND DOE-LIKE i swear to fucking god the beauty standard here is ridiculous tho people my age dont usuallu give a fuck about it lol but the older generations OH THEY DO but that doesnt matter we were taught to respect elders and their opinions (as part of our culture) but that doesn't mean we will up to their unrealistic expectations. oh just to mention to you! when i was a kid i was pretty active. i play outside a lot and i love ride my bicycle and do races with my friends. one time my aunt (my father's sister) warned me of not "playing too much" bc my calves will develop man like muscles and it's not a good for a girl to have calf muscles because if i wear a dress and heeled shoes it will show. i was i think 8 or 9 and i was like... sOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT so i went to my mom and told her about it and she was like "what?! she told you that?! that's an exaggeration! just keep cycling or running, don't mind her." (my mom doesnt really care about physical looks whereas my aunts-dad side CARE A LOT) they don't even like women wearing clothes that are too revealing so what i did was i wore a tube on a relative's birthday party. they cant call me out bc they know my dad doesnt care (he even buys me cropped tops) and my mom too. anyway, so yes small ankles and calves are a thing too. IT'S RIDICULOUS I SWEAR.

oh god the murders in your town?? THAT SOUNDS LIKE FROM AMERICAN HORROR STORY OR SMTH. is it not weird that the college bought where the murder took place? like if i were to study there i'll be thinking about it a lot... actually... that sounds a bit like my uni... not exactly my uni but the place where my uni sits. so my country was under a colony before (war times and all that) and the city where my uni is the main city where the locals and foreigners interacted during 1800s and since the woke locals are against the colonization, a lot of them were shot, killed, and thrown to the nearby river. and if you take a few strides from my uni there's like an underground tunnel recently discovered that turned into a tourist spot. it's downright creepy because the way down to the tunnel and the tunnel itself is sketchy tight, the way/tunnel leads to a huge boxed underground like a deadend. my friends and i went afterclass and when we reached the dead end we looked up and see like a railing(?) idk how to describe it but other tourists were shock that people are piling underground and they can see us. apparently, that hole used to be a prison for locals who fought for our freedom (and other criminals too) they were kept and stuck undergound, left them there to die (die of starvation and stuff). it was creepy bc i was literally standing where almost hundreds of people died and i didn't know. we only knew of it when we reached the dead end. as it turns out, there are many other tunnels with the same structure near the place. sooo yeah.

omg speaking of the two japanese murders you mentioned i dont know about them so ill check it out!! and about your cupcake incident OMG THATS SO CUTE WTH IM SORRY FOR LAUGHIN but i just think its adorable that you ended up lost for a good cupcake. cant blame you tho i loveee a good cupcake. where you able to get back in class without an earful?

ahhhh i live near japan but i can't fly there yet bc of school (but since i graduated who knows heh). you know how crazy asian schools are? yes, they're crazy. so my family and i barely have time to travel outside of the country without taking a week off from school. we traveled once before to two countries it was hongkong and vietnam but i had to file a one week leave (it was tedious with all the papers i have to submit and all that ugh) and thank god that one week is just school festival week so i didnt miss anything besides the fun. that was in elementary but came middle school and high school.. heckkk after class study sessions is real like the one in anime especially if you're a senior. i remember my mom's friend being a math teacher so every summer i go to their place to train my skills in math and i'm begging my mom not to drop me off to their place 💀 imagine spending summer solving math problems HA! still, i'm never the best in math lol

thanks for the wishes i hope to launch my sticker shop soon apparently i hae forgotten my skills on photoshop HA HA HA and i'm trying to recall my lessons on it BUT FUCKKK anyway you a lot for someone who doesnt play genshin if you ever plan on playing it soon let me know!! i would love to know (its funny how you mentioned almost all daddies of genshin bc saaaame ughh childe supreme sugardaddy and a meme)

here are some haikyuu stickers i made recently it isnt final yet butttt here have a look!

WHY ARE YOUR CATS SO PHOTOGENIC?? THEYRE ALL SO BEAUTIFUL AND SOOO CALMING TO LOOK AT!! THATS UNFAIR bc momo knows when a cam is pointed at her and she just runs away. and the huge pikachu too!! I WANT THAT AAAHHH

here have momo sitting on the sleigh im working on hehe

sorry for the long wait but i lovee writing to you whenever i receive a message from you i get all excited! you're a good communicator and thanks for waiting for my replies since i take eons to do so. i hope you keep writing!! i'll always be here to support a friend and a fellow writer. cheers!

[morgana-ren]

Im. I love you? Your answer to that ask is beautiful, also I forgot about the other meaning for weed for a moment and got confused like, 'is morgana-ren a stoner? Beefy weed muscles???' and now i cant help but imagine stoned Shiggy. Specifically him forcefully shotgunning his captive because hes bored and if hes getting stoned she might as well too. Laughing at her when she gets spacey. This is a fun train of thought lol, thanks for inspiring it

I am a ridiculous and incoherent person. My first instinct is to literally reply with complete gibberish to most things. Shaming me has absolutely Z E R O effect because I have no shame. I’m a ridonkulous person. Last time I got high, I just laid in bed singing “Secret tunnel, secret tunnel” for like 3 hours.

To be fair, I would also do that completely buttfuck sober.

Gods I wish I had a gif of Shig smonkin some donk wods, but since I don’t, you’ll have to settle for me writing it.

PSA after the fact: I AM SO SORRY IT GOT A LIL CREEPY BUT TO BE FAIR, IT’S ME AND IF YOU SENDIN ME SHIT YOU KNOW YOU HAVE TO BE REAL FECKIN’ SPECIFIC OR ELSE I’M GUNNA MAKE IT CREEPY also weed hits me way different than it does most folks so it’s really hard for me to be able to accurately describe how it might be to anyone else. SO imagine this is supervillain quirky weed he has special made to calm his...uh,.. never ending rage. also it’s ridiculously longer than I planned. cause I get carried away. anyway love you!

His room is dank and smells like mold and must.

Tight metal bindings cut into your wrists, leaving you raw with crusted blood despite the fact you stopped fighting days ago. Your tailbone feels bruised from constantly shifting on his worn down carpet, your legs prickling and aching from inactivity.

He’s kept you bound here for a while, handcuffs looped through the foot of his bed. You’re not entirely sure how long, since his ratty blackout curtains make it hard to see daylight. He’s got them taped down, blocking out all but the tiniest slivers of light. Like most of his life, his room exists in total darkness.

Time has little meaning here.

He doesn’t leave you alone often, only really exiting the room to bring you food which you refuse to eat. Most of it has been kicked into the corner, the soft buzz of fruit flies accumulating more and more by the day. It frustrates him, but he’s keen on reminding you that he’s patient. You’ll relent eventually.

Truth be told, your willpower is starting to give. Your body is stiff and sore, head perpetually aching from crying. His moods are like whiplash, one second crooning to you how special you are to him, the next backhanding you and calling you a stubborn bitch. You don’t know what he wants from you. If the fates were merciful, he’d get it over with and just kill you.

Ending your life doesn’t seem like it’s high on his list of priorities.

He’s facing away from you now, tinkering with something on his desk by the light of his various computer monitors. You can’t make out what it is, only that he’s been at it for the past ten minutes. Grateful as you are for his lack of attention, it always makes you nervous when he gets preoccupied. It usually means he’s working on some new and exciting way to break you.

You take comfort in the momentary peace, some temporary reprieve from the invasive leer of those horrid crimson eyes scanning over you in the darkness. Whatever he’s doing, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Only steel yourself against what he gives you when he’s finished.

He reaches into his desk, pulling out a plastic bag of something you can’t make out. All you know is when you hear the ziplock open, a strange scent floods the room. It smells vaguely familiar, but between your fucked up headspace and even worse situation, you can’t really bring yourself to care.

Leaning against the little metal bed leg you’re imprisoned against, you realize just how heavy your eyes are as you rest the back of your head on his threadbare mattress. Fighting off oncoming waves of pulsing anxiety takes most of your energy reserve, and bouts of sleep tend to come few and far between when you’re sleeping in the den of a predator.You’re so tired, so worn down, and you don’t know what else he could do to you that he hasn’t already done or planning to do. It would be a lie to say you hadn’t considered saying that to him, but you feel like tempting the universe or him isn’t a great idea right now. Either way, your eyelashes feel like weights dragging you under into the sea of sleep.

You’re almost there when his chair squeaks and you jolt awake, that overwhelming sense of dread coming over you. Your instincts blare and somehow you just know his eyes are on you again, waiting for you to acknowledge him. He wants your attention, and he expects you to give it.

Dragging your exhausted lids open when you know you’ll have to see that terrifying man is a burden you haven’t grown accustomed to having quite yet, but it’s one you bear anyway. Besides, you know that if he thinks you’re ignoring him, he has no problem forcing you to look at him. It’s easier to just give him what he wants. He hurts you less that way.

So you do, and just like you expected, he’s simpering down at you, holding something you can’t make out in his hands. Gulping comes on impulse; he looks far too pleased and that never bodes well for you.

“Do you know what this is?”

He holds it out and it takes you a second to make it out in the dark, but you know that basic shape.

“I-is that a pipe?”

“At least you know that much.” He gives you a cheeky lip quirk, making heat rise in your cheeks. Palming it in one hand, he uses the other to fish in his pocket, one finger carefully pulled outside the kangaroo pouch of his jacket. Following his movements, your brows furrow and curiosity almost wills you to speak. The words stall in your mouth, however, when you see him pull a cheap lighter out between two fingers.

He flicks it a few times with his thumb, sparking the light and sending small cinders dancing across the his lap. After a few tries, it finally holds. The light across his face only makes him seem all the more sinister, exacerbating the shadows that reside in the craggy, marred flesh of his cheeks. The flame dances in his pupils and the orange tinged shine glimmers off the edges of his weirdly perfect, jagged teeth. It’s extremely unsettling.

He lets the flame die, picking his pipe back up and tapping it on the desk once or twice.

“I don’t do this often. I usually prefer to keep a clear head.” He lazily arches back in his chair, inhaling the dank stench of the sticky green plant packed in his pipe before returning his gaze to you. “But in some cases, I find it can help you relax.”

Bringing the pipe to his face, he wraps his chapped lips around the bit and sparks the lighter again. You watch as the flame is sucked toward the bowl, igniting the contents and bringing them to a dull simmer.Thumb twitching on the carb and pinkie pulled away, he inhales, letting his head lull back on the seat of his chair. After a few seconds and a suppressed cough or two, he leans forward and exhales, sending a splay of thick, billowing smoke directly into your face.

You turn your head, watery eyes clinging shut, but it’s not enough to keep the acrid stench from clogging through your sinuses. It constricts your throat, compelling an instinctive cough from deep in your chest. Whatever it is he’s smoking, it’s strong.

His high pitched laugh echoes off the barren walls of his room as you scrunch your nose and try to disperse the smoke pooled in your face. When the air finally clears, he’s leaning toward you, arms resting on his knees with the pipe in one hand and his lighter in the other. The little embers still burn beneath the lip of the bowl, little grey spirals rising up from the still burning plant clusters.

He holds it out to you (as if you could take it with your hands restrained behind your back), hyena-grinning as you scowl up towards him.

“You should try a little. It might make you a little more-” Pausing, he pretends to be in thought. More mockery, you really wish you were desensitized to it by now. “-friendly.”

“I would have been friendly if you hadn’t kidnapped me like some sort of psychopath!”

He rolls his eyes at your outburst, languidly pushing himself off of his dilapidated computer chair and crouching down next to you instead. You know better than to kick at him, he won’t hesitate to break your legs to keep you in line. All you can do is stare at him nervously as he shakes his shaggy pale hair out over his forehead, still sporting that unnerving expression. His scarlet eyes burn arguably brighter than fire from the pipe, and exponentially more threatening.

He moves a little closer into your space, bringing the piece back up to his lips and lighting it up once again. He takes a deep inhale this time, even deeper than the first. Chest puffed and breath held, his lanky arm reaches out back behind him places the still-burning pipe back on the desk, gaze never leaving yours.You figure he’s going to blow it in your face again, either to be annoying or to try and give you some sort of shitty second rate high to make you more malleable.

It’s obnoxious, but not even close to the worst thing he’s done to you.

Yet, his cold, dry fingers grab at your jaw, forcing you to keep your attention on him. A chipped nail from his thumb prods at your lower lip and you realize he wants you to open your mouth. You could tell him to go fuck himself, but that only gives him what he wants, if only for a moment. Instead, you choose to glower at him.

If looks could kill, he would probably keel over, but unfortunately you live in a world where he has the upper hand. He squints at you, something you know would be equally as furious as your own grimace if his features had the freedom to express it. The fingers on your chin clamp down, digging into your soft skin in a bruising grip. The more you defy him, the more he punishes you, and his large hands have more than the power they need to cause you pain.

Eventually you feel your jaw start to crack. You try to hold out, try to stay your ground, but it becomes too much. Between his brutal strength and your already weakened condition, it’s no use fighting him on something he really wants.

You open your mouth, if only to cry in pain, and he immediately crashes his lips against yours.Teeth clack as you try to shake him off, but it’s too late. He’s breathing his air into your lungs, caustic mixture of the taste of the weed and the bitter scent of his breath swirling deep inside you. You try to heave it back at him, but the damage is done. Smoke barely seeps from the tiny cracks he allows between your faces, and your need to breathe is stronger than your ability to fight, so eventually, you relent.

You gulp the air he gives you down, just wanting him to get the fuck away from you. You can feel his lips quirk in a smile as you fight the urge to spit up from the foul scent of his exhale, ripped and bloodied lips scratching against yours. Eventually when he does pull away from you, you go into a hysterical coughing fit and between your bouts, you can hear him cackle.

You finally manage to calm yourself, but whatever it is he’s made you inhale, it’s strong. Stronger than anything you’re used to. Even second hand, your head is already humming, and you can feel your chest tighten against your will.

“You feel it, don’t you?” High pitched giggling and a weirdly gentle brush of a hand across your buzzing, swollen cheek. You go to swat him off, hissing in pain when the metal edge round holding you back cuts into an already existing cut. “Soon you won’t have any fight left in you at all.”

He leaves you alone for a minute, door clicking behind him. You catch your breath in his absence, eyes scanning your surroundings. You look for something, anything he has left within your reach that you can use to escape. It’s what you do during the exceedingly brief moments he’s not around, and so far, it hasn’t yielded any results, but you refuse to give up.

The curtains likely mean that there’s presumably a window behind there. If you can just get free, you might be able to jump out. Problem is you’re stuck with your hands restrained behind you on a metal bed post. It doesn’t matter how much you kick and scream, no one ever comes, so it’s probably safe to say whoever is below or above you doesn’t give a shit. You need to get out of these cuffs.

He smokes, at least occasionally. He’s probably got a bobby pin around here for scraping. If he’s anything like your mates, they probably litter the floor. To be fair, even if you get one, you don’t really know what to do with it. You could try your hand at lockpicking?

Heh. Hand. Get it? Cause all those hands?

Focus.

The biggest problem right now is the handcuffs. Technically, you could get out of them, but you’d have to disjoint your fingers to do it, which takes away from your already pathetic chances at escaping. It hurts to move your wrists, let alone yank on them. Why the fuck did this asshole have handcuffs anyway? Unless he’s doing some kinky shit in his down time. You wouldn’t put it past him, he’s obviously a weird guy. He seems like the type to be into some dirty stuff. You don’t know who with, but there’s probably villain fuckers out there he could find and take advantage of. Gross.

You audibly laugh.That’s funny.That’s really funny. You don’t know why, but the thought makes you giggle uncontrollably. Your mind refuses to stay on track.

Fucking focus!

Somewhere far away, you hear the door open and his heavy footsteps off to the side of you. Too late. You’re still laughing.

“Hey Shigaraki-”

He’s leaning down next to you, fucking with something behind you. Your hands. He’s messing around your hands. He’s cold. Why are his hands always so goddamn cold? Is that why he’s a villain? Cold hands? That would make you a villain too.

Your head feels several sizes too big, and you can’t help but think about how he smells like dust. Everything feels slow. You can feel your heart pumping. You can hear it too.

“-You should like, just let me go.That would be kinda cool. My hands hurt.”

You don’t notice they aren’t even cuffed anymore, or that he’s scooping you up in his arms and gently placing you on his bed.

“Don’t try to fight, now. You need a tolerance to before it’ll feel normal. You’ll only hurt yourself, and that would be such a shame.”

You can tell he’s mocking you again, but you just chortle because the words are processing like a slurry. The back of your head feels so soft. It’s definitely not the awful metal he’s made you crick your neck on the past little while. He’s touching your arms and it tickles. Flashes of his face play in your mind a little slower than they’re probably actually happening. It’s terrifying, but the fear doesn’t register. You wanna touch his face. You bet it feels funny.

You can hear the click of handcuffs again, and you know he’s cuffed you once again (so rude), just somewhere new now. Your fingers grip and you feel metal bars. A bed frame. Again. Uuugh. You kick your feet a little and they bounce off the mattress. Bouncy.

There’s a weight shift near your feet, and before you can really understand what’s happening, he’s on top of you, face hovering less than an inch above yours. Your cheeks are burning as his flaxen hair tickles and curtains you, and no matter how hard you want to, you can’t stop staring at his eyes. They’re so fucking intense you swear they scorch you. Like an abyss, you feel yourself being swallowed inside them as they stare long into you. Hate. Rage. So much embodied negativity you can practically feel it. Panic blooms in your chest but your body is reacting too slow. All you can do is squirm.

“Shh-” He’s caged your head in his arms, and his breath is glossing your cheek, just as sour as before but somehow you know what’s about to happen is much worse than forcefully smoking you out. “This’ll be much better for you if you relax and give in. Who knows? You could even enjoy it.”

He grinds his clothed pelvis into yours, and while somewhere inside your head, sirens are blaring, all your body can process is pressure against your most sensitive area. You whine, and he takes the opportunity to press his lips to yours again. Your mouth is slack and moist, so it’s nice and easy for him to slide his slimy, disgusting tongue down your throat. With your brain short circuiting from both shock and whatever he’s made you consume, your body doesn’t have enough control over its facilities to fight back.

He kisses you long and hard, if you can call whatever he’s doing to you kissing. It’s more like he’s trying to devour you. Sloppy, wet, and possessive, like he’s trying to choke you with his essence. It could have been a minute. It could have been hours. You don’t know.

When he does finally pull away, you can feel your stomach lurch as he laps at the string of spit that connects you to him, but you only blink your eyes wearily despite your extreme bodily reaction. You feel sleepy, or more accurately, your eyelids feel kinda heavy. Really heavy. Something visceral is telling you to stay awake, to keep fighting, but you just can’t. You can hear yourself speak but you don’t even know what you’re saying. You don’t remember.

“You’re cute like this, all spacey and stupid.” He flicks your forehead and your eyes flicker back open, but only briefly. “I guess it hit you kinda hard, huh? Sorry about that. I should have warned you. It must’ve slipped my mind.”

He presses his mouth to yours again, a little softer this time. You’re almost out at this point, everything feels so heavy. So sluggish. You barely feel his long, thin fingers glide slowly up your shirt.

“I think you could come to like it here with me if you stop being stubborn. But that’s okay. I forgive you. Like I told you before. I’m patient. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

[mangodestroyer]

I'll admit, I don't yet have it figured out either. I'm still a mess mentally. I have a lot of trauma, and a good chunk of it is related to being autistic. I also happen to be queer on top of that. So... my love life has SUCKED.

Maybe it's a huge cope, but I think you're going to have to accept that the normal life (TM) is just not going to be YOUR life. Like, I'm sorry, but we're too different. There are some things that are going to be harder to pursue because of that. For instance... would it be a good idea for either of us to enter the business world? Maybe in some ways, people like us can make it work. Me personally? I somehow found myself working as an assistant in a higher business management office. I've come to find that I HATE IT HERE! My co-workers have started making it a point to make me feel like I don't belong there. As it would turn out, I'm not a good fit. Despite having found my way in a different social job. I've hit a brick wall. Let's face it, upper management is better suited for those who are extremely good at "the game." So socially crafty, they can get away with fucking with other people. That's the kind of person this line of work draws. Tbh, I'm not even sure why they hired me.

So, yeah. If working jobs and attempting various college majors has taught me anything... it's that outsiders need to find a NICHE. That's what drove me to pursue something a bit more out there in STEM. And by God... I'm actually getting along so well with some of the other people in this new major! They're just a bunch of nerds who like going outside a lot! Holy shit! I'd rather collect rock and water samples for the rest of my life... over working some "normal" job where I work in a stuffy office full of politics! Thankfully... I might be able to do work like that VERY soon!

Yep! The older I get, the more I embrace these "strange" aspects of myself! If it takes becoming a scientist for me to have a comfortable career... then so be it! I'm exploring so many "out there" concepts in fiction and art. My story ideas are weird, and I fucking love it! I'm also slowly presenting more and more alt... because even though I'm no longer a teenager... NO ONE GETS ME! But also, I've always liked the aesthetic but wouldn't indulge because of social pressure.

Idk... there's just something nice about "letting go." Letting go of social norms and whatnot. Like, last night, I ate an edible and smoked a bunch of weed. I know SO many people who STILL find shit like that "weird" and "dysfunctional." But honestly? I feel pretty darn good after doing it! Especially after going on a five-mile hike! I NEEDED THIS! I've been dealing with so much anxiety and this ANNHILATED it!

Easier said than done, but stop chasing social acceptance. Some of us already do accept you far more than you might realize. It's probably just going to be more work finding the people who are interesting and worthwhile. But, I mean, people like us are ABUNDANT on the internet! So that's a start!

I fucking hate being like this.

Why can't I be cishet able-bodied and neurotypical? Or at the very least, why can't I be accepted in society as someone who isn't?

And people ask me why I don't believe in a God.

[ashes-in-a-meadow]

okay so this is gonna have SPOILERS so yeah don’t read if you don’t want them also warning that this is lowkey long sorry abt that i just typed whatever came to mind🤷🏽

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.

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okay so now that i’ve had a minute(and smoked some weed) i want to talk about lestat and what just clicked to me as the weed hit

okay so to start i want to make sure this is not read as apologizing or excusing what lestat did, i am simply explaining how i interpreted why he did what he did because this is not the time for lestat apologists to “uwu my baby didn’t mean it” this shit and if y’all do y’all weird asl…anyways on to my analysis(is that what this is??)

so my friend has said before she’s a very emotional person and when people hurt her feelings she’s said that she wants to physically hurt them the way they hurt her emotionally so they know how she feels and that immediately came to me as i was smoking and thought about how far lestat went when he was beating louis

to me it came off as, like my friend has said, he saw louis choosing claudia over him and then he desperately screams “louis!” and he lashed out on claudia for trying to take louis away, but then louis jumped on him and i think if we could’ve seen his face when it happened it would’ve been one of surprise and hurt that louis would do that right??

okay, so then he’s telling louis that he’s trying to hold back, but then he gives in and beats the shit out of him and idk it just came to as he was trying to hurt louis as much as he physically could to make louis feel like he felt emotionally

then when they flew up and lestat told louis to tell him that he’ll never love him and said that it would “make it easier”, he’s so used to people leaving him that he believes louis doesn’t love him and wants to hear it from his mouth so that he can “let him go” now do i think he would’ve actually killed louis?? nah, that man is down bad for louis, but do i think he would’ve let louis die?? yeah🤷🏽 he was so hurt and distraught that he would lose louis to claudia that he probably would’ve let it happen and then felt guilty about it later

also for everyone who thinks he doesn’t, louis does love lestat it’s fucking obvious but they don’t love the same way and that’s where the problem comes from between them, lestat fell in love with louis as soon as he met him but louis had been still learning to love lestat when claudia left and it doesn’t make it any better that they’re horrible at communicating their feelings with each other, louis doesn’t like being vulnerable and neither does lestat and they show it differently

louis will let himself get consumed by whatever is troubling him and lestat will try to do anything to ignore his problems, so basically a match made in hell cause they’re never going to learn how to love each other the right way if they don’t let themselves be vulnerable

also want to touch upon him and antoinette cause🤦🏽that mf never learns…i understand that he wanted sex or just non-sexual intimacy and he should’ve communicated that(ik his bitch ass would never) but cheating?? all of y’all that wanted to press “louis hooking up with jonah was worse cause he used to have feelings for him yadayadayada” can now pipe down and for the record it’s weird that y’all want to say what louis did was worse like lestat didn’t cheat on louis in his face in their house BEFORE proposing an open relationship🤦🏽 but whatever

and the trailer for the next ep?? they (i bet it was claudia tho) kicked lestat out😭😭 mf showing up with gifts😭bro ik that’s how you show you care but mf just COMMUNICATE AND APOLOGIZE PLEASE IM BEGGING THEM TO LEARN HOW TO FUCKING TALK TO EACH OTHER😭😭😭 *sighs* the whole ending of that ep was expected(i had got it spoiled a while ago) but at the same time it was a little more than what i was expecting but i understand the shock value part and the intention behind showing that not everything is rainbows and flowers for them(i mean it’s a vampire show where they kill people and has gore) just kinda wish that it didn’t leave me wanting someone to kill or beat the shit out of lestat😭

[eddiemunsonsbedroom]

20 Somethings - Part 1

--------------------------------------------------

Eddie Munson x afab!reader/Joyce’sSister!reader

Summary: Joyce’s sister works at a record store and plays guitar in a band with some local pot-heads. When her coworker/bandmate invites his friend Eddie and his band to jam with them, she quickly becomes intrigued. (I suck at summaries).

Warnings: Smoking a joint while driving (don’t do this?!), Slight (legal) age gap, drug use (weed), sexual undertones, flirting, hella swearing.

Hopper and the Byers are in Hawkins for the sake of this fic, and I may have ripped off reader’s band name from an actual band on accident? Sorry it’s so short for a part 1! Nothing too exciting yet, just laying the ground-work and testing the waters. This is my first real fanfic that I’d count, and first multi-part fic, so please be gentle. Let me know if there are any errors that you see, and feedback is greatly appreciated! -H

 ————-

“Christ alive,” you mutter, giving your car radio a less-than-gentle smack. Driving with your knees while smacking your radio like a madman to jostle the tape and ashing the joint in your other hand all over your lap is probably not the safest way to drive. Actually, you’re breaking multiple laws right now, if you add in speeding.

Quickly glancing up you see Hopper, Sheriff of Hawkins, driving past you with a disgruntled, knowing look on his face. He gives you a small beep of his horn with an exasperated pointed look, warning you to put the damn joint out before another cop happens to drive by.

Knowing Hop since you were a kid and him being close with your sister, Joyce, means he has a little bit of a soft spot for you and looks the other way on a lot of things (which he’d deny outright if directly asked). Besides the time when you were 16 and he found you by Lover’s Lake with Tommy Lane’s hand up your shirt… He put the fear of god into that kid and you never saw him again.

You were an Oops! Baby, significantly younger than your sister. Joyce in her 40s, while you’re sitting at only 24 years of age. Your parents had you in their mid-40s, which means people were always surprised when you told them that your parents were pushing 70. Joyce always made it a point to form a bond with you, even with her being just about out of the house when you were born, and soon after that having Jonathan and Will. They were almost like cousins to you, or even brothers, when in reality, they were your nephews. In high school, your parents allowed you to move in with Joyce, as they couldn’t really relate to you with such an age difference, and you were always with Joyce and the boys anyway. You just moved out of her house a year or so ago into your own shitty apartment near Hawkins High.

Taking one last drag and not-so-discretely tossing your roach out the window, you finally approached your bandmate, Al’s house. You met Al while working at the record shop, and when he found out that you knew how to play guitar, he almost shit himself, asking you to try out for his band immediately. Which is how you ended up playing lead guitar for The Living Daylights. You cannot imagine that Al, stoner of the universe, who almost sets his house on fire weekly by forgetting frozen pizzas in the oven, is the only one to think of that band name, but hey, it’s not like you’re Metallica. No one at The Hideout is going to give a shit.

Your car groans to a stop next to a big black van you can’t recall seeing before, when it hits you: tonight is the night that Al’s friend’s band was going to jam with you guys and drink some beer. What the hell was their name? Corrupted Casket?

Lugging your guitar case out of the back seat, you swear at your car when the case gets caught between the seat and the floor. “Come, on, Betsy, you old bitch, let her GO!” you whisper-yell before it finally breaks free of Betsy’s clutches. You hope she doesn’t make you pay for that comment later, as you don’t have any extra cash to fix her if she breaks down out of spite.

“Yelling at inanimate objects now, y/n?” You look for the source of the voice only to see Jerry, your ridiculously long-haired bassist, holding the outside door to the basement open, cigarette in hand. His blond hair was prettier than any girl’s you’d ever seen, but when you told him that, he held your guitar over his head until you took your comment back.

“Spying on unsuspecting women now, Jer?” you quip, swinging the strap to your guitar case over your shoulder and starting down the stairs.

“Had to grab my smokes,” he shakes the cigarette pack, “not my fault you’re outside screaming loud enough to scare the birds.”

“That’s a hyperbole if I’ve ever heard one,” you reply, stepping into the basement.

“A what?”

You roll your eyes and make your way around the washer and dryer to the dirty old rug that holds Rob’s drum set and all of your amps. Next to the rug are the ratty orange couch and matching old chairs that you’ve spent way too much time in over the last year, and filling them are three guys you’ve never met before. You stop short, having somehow already forgotten between fighting your bitch car and the banter with Jerry, that you’d be having company. Corrupted Casket? Right?? Shit.

Al whips his dark, curly-haired head toward you, shit-eating grin on his face while ashing his joint. You internally groan in anticipation of his smart-ass remark.

“Hey, look what the cat finally dragged in! Forgot that Hawkins is located in the lesser-known time zone, ‘WheneverTheHellY/NFeelsLikeIt!’” he yells, smirking at his own shitty joke. Seeing each other at work and in most of your free-time, you’re used to Al’s stupid humor and banter, and actually look forward to the back and forth.

Withholding the mirth from your eyes, you deadpan, “Aw, did you get lost? Nurse, he’s awake!”

Listening to the snickers and setting your guitar down, you hear a single sharp laugh from Al as he flips you off with a grin.

With your own smirk on your face, you glance over the three new faces, landing on the guy with long, wavy dark hair and huge brown eyes looking at you with a piercing gaze. You hold his stare for a beat too long, feeling like a rabbit caught in a snare, before clearing your throat and blinking away. He seems to snap out of it as well, shifting in his seat and taking a drink from his beer. Good Lord that’s a beautiful man.

Act natural, you horny wench, you scold yourself internally. You wonder why you haven’t seen him around before. It was slim-pickings in Hawkins, you’d have known if you saw a dream-boat such as this man out and around town.

You casually sit in the empty lawn chair across the coffee table from him and now the basement is suddenly sweltering.

Pushing your denim jacket down your shoulders, you blindly throw it over the couch, hearing a “jeez!” from Al who is swatting it off of his lap. Ignoring him, you decide to say, “fuck it” and make the first introduction before the tension in the room becomes too awkward.

“Hi. I’m the looks of the group, clearly,” you joke to the three new guys, but mostly to the hot man directly in front of you. Your bandmates roll their eyes and huff at your comment.

“Uh, I’m Gareth,” one boy says, seeming a bit nervous.

“Jeff,” the other says, shaking your hand.

Letting it go, you look to the guy whose name you’re really after. If you’d have blinked you’d have missed it, but a flash of awe and uncertainty goes through his eyes at he looks at you before a confident smirk graces his lips. “Eddie,” he says, shaking your hand. You guys shake hands for longer than is necessary before you remember he’s probably waiting for your name.

“Y/N, which you may have gathered from Al’s shitty joke earlier.”

“Woooow,” you faintly hear Al snark in response, but you’re so far from listening to him right now; not while Eddie’s eyes are boring into yours. He’s not used to a woman who doesn’t take shit from men and can dish it out just as well as she can take it. He wonders if that applies to more than just wordplay, but swallows down those thoughts. He’s getting way ahead of himself.

Forcing yourself to let go of his hand before you give yourself away completely, you settle back into your chair. Jerry breaks the new bout of silence by asking you if you want a beer on his way to the fridge.

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Rob quips, pushing his bangs away from his eyes and winking at you. You roll your eyes. If you’d have grown up with slightly older brothers, this is exactly what it’d have been like.

“You make me sound like an alcoholic,” you say, unamused.

“Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Dick!” you laugh. Cracking your beer by hitting it between your palm and the edge of the coffee table, you take a sip, seeing Eddie’s eyes flash a little. He’s very quickly become intrigued by you. A woman who’s funny, can kick back with the guys fully at ease, and who plays in a band? And she’s hot? Where have you been hiding?

Relaxing for a bit, a few different conversations kick up around you. As the joint is passed your way, you take a hit, holding it in for a long beat before slowly blowing the smoke out. Eddie fidgets with his beer, then moves onto playing with the many rings adorning his fingers. You subconsciously bite your lip while watching his fingers move, unbeknownst to him. He appears nervous, like he doesn’t know how to completely insert himself into this environment with new people.

Observing him slyly, you can see the moment he seems to make up his mind about something. He stops fidgeting and straightens his shoulders, getting to his feet. To your surprise he makes his way to sit in the empty folding chair next to you. You’re trying to appear nonchalant, when all you want to do is squirm in your seat.

He clears his throat, “So, how do you know Al then?” Fuck! He internally curses at himself. They’re in a band together, dumb ass. That’s how they know each other.

To his surprise you just smile and say, “Well, we met working at the record store together, and he needed a guitarist. I figured, hell, I’ve been meaning to do some charity work anyway,” you respond.

He lets out a surprised laugh at your quick wit. But inside you’re worried you’re coming off arrogant, which is so far from how you actually feel in this moment that it’s comical. But it’s either this humor or self-deprecating. You can’t tell which is worse.

“How about you?” you ask him, sipping your beer. At some point you crossed your legs towards him without realizing and bumped his knee with yours. He inhales sharply, but it’s so quiet that you can’t tell if you imagined it.

“Uh…” he gets his supply of weed from Al now that Reefer Rick’s locked up again, but he doesn’t want to seem like a drug dealer by saying that. Dude, you are a drug dealer, he tells himself. Oh yeah, he responds to himself. Why am I talking to myself? Fuck, maybe I am high. Shit, she’s looking at me, how long has it been?

Not trying to hide your smirk at the fact that you can almost see literal cogs turning in his head to produce a sentence, you say, “uh…?” to help him push his thought along.

“He supplies me with weed that I, uh, sell. To others. For cash. And I smoke it. And stuff,” he blurts out.

You burst out laughing, your eyes twinkling. You’re looking at him like you genuinely find him funny, and he quietly sighs in relief.

Somehow, the ice has been broken, and you guys settle into a surprisingly easy back and forth. He tells you that he lives in a trailer with his uncle, Wayne, a few miles from Al’s. He seems a little embarrassed, but you quickly reassure him that you only moved out a year ago, and into a crappy apartment, no less. He says that he has no siblings, and you tell him that you have an older sister.

Eddie’s eyes light up as a thought dawns on him, “wait! You work at The Screaming Owl! I go in there all the time!” he chirps excitedly, referencing the record shop.

“You do?! How have we never seen each other?” you ask, racking your brain. You cannot imagine you missed each other.

“I go in every Saturday.”

Ah. “Okay, that makes sense. I only work weekdays,” you say.

“Do you go to school?” he asks off-handedly, not at all expecting the way you’re about to respond.

“Nah, I haven’t gotten around to college yet. Graduated from Hawkins High in ’80 though,” you say, stubbing out your cigarette. While you’re looking down, Eddie’s eyes bug out of his head as he tries to do mental gymnastics to figure out your age. 24?! He takes a drink of his beer and looks away, trying to be casual. There’s no way in hell you’re going to want to be with a 20-year-old super senior in fucking high school.

Swiveling back his way, you ask, “So what about you?”

“Huh?” he sputters, ungracefully.

You laugh. “Are you in school?”

Fuck! He swallows thickly, mind-racing, trying to figure out how he’s going to respond. “Yeah-“ he starts, and, thank fuck, Al interrupts with, “Yo! Are we gonna jam or what?”

@sublimecatgalaxy​ @bethii1

[starshapedkookie]

Southpaw

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

“Yeah?” You respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Coke as well,” Taehyung says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh god,” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, do you need any—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Home?” She asks, “Thank god.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, thanks again.”

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm,” you mumble.

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

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

He nods slowly before a silence falls between you two.

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

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

The question catches you off guard.

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

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

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

“Sure,” you answer simply.

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“Who is that?” Jennie asks you.

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

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

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

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

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

Jennie’s eyes widen. “What?”

“I know right,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he smiles.

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

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

“You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Better than I thought,” you answer honestly.

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

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

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

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

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

“Most definitely not,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whose that?” He asks.

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

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

Your face drops and you don’t say anything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are majoring in now?”

“Photography and film,” he answers boldly.

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

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

“How’s Taehyung?” You ask him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?” You press.

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t say anything so he continues.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looks taken aback, “W-what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So I’m a distraction now?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook, you’re my oldest friend—“

“You don’t treat me like it—“

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

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

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

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

“Why did you kiss me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask you something?” You mumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whoa, what?”

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

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

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

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

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

“…Okay?” You say slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What no—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you told anyone?” You ask him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s it?” She somewhat frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm,” Jennie shrugged, “Interesting.”

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You chuckle, “Probably not, why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You give him a nod, “See you soon.”

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right… thanks Mark.”

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

“Yeah, yeah, read your fucking book.”

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[9:46 PM Namjoon] hey, wrud tonight

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

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

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

You laugh at your phone.

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

“Jungkook! Fuck yes my brother!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jennie here?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, you’re drunk, you don’t need—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-why? Who would want—“

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook you’ve got to be joking.”

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

“Okay? And?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod your head slowly, “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook, I’m gonna—“

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

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

You nod, “Yeah, we should.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve driven high before it’s not—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

You had no idea.

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

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

Taehyung appears to your left and you jump.

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

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

You nod slowly, “Alright, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile to him, “You too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? No Y/N—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sure hoped he was right.

_____

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

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

“What do you mean?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pull away quickly from him. What the fuck?

“You okay?” He asks with concern.

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

“Alright, I’ll be by the bar.”

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

“Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook,” your eyes focus on his chest, watching your hands grip his shirt gently. “I—We can’t, we shouldn’t,” you bite your lip nervously.

“Please Y/N,” he nuzzles his forehead into yours, his grip on your getting tighter, “I need you, please—“

“Jungkook, no,” you push him off of you carefully and he looks hurt and confused. “I’m sorry, I—I want to but—“

“But what?” Once again, he looks sad and maybe a little angry now? “II’m not Namjoon? Is that it?”

You shake your head, not able to find a good answer in your head. His hands drop from your side and so does your stomach. Without another glance at your frame, Jungkook walks away, pulling at the roots of his hair.

You get home alone that night. Fuck. You think you really may have messed up this time. No, Jungkook wasn’t Namjoon but Namjoon could never be Jungkook. The history the two of you have... god you were so confused. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt gravity pull you to someone more since recently, that someone being Jungkook. As confused as your feelings were, you cry some in your bed. You don’t sleep that night, worried that whatever wedge is driving itself between you and Jungkook again—won’t be fixable this time.

_____

Jungkook, maybe much not to your surprise, cuts you off again the next week. You haven’t spoken or seen him since the party. Since he wanted you to go home with him and you nearly did, but thankfully you used your head some. You missed seeing his face dearly and missed his smile even more. When did things get so complicated with you and him? Ever since fucking graduation in high school—nothing has been the same. It’s been years and years and it’s something you’ve never gotten over. The more you think about it, the obvious reasons begin to show. Maybe Jungkook means more to you than you thought? Maybe he wasn’t just supposed to be your best friend? What if you two had been destined for something else all this time? Or maybe you weren’t meant to be friends at all?

Your thoughts are interrupted when a familiar face walks into your shift at the diner. Taehyung is by himself, his backpack thrown lazily over one of his shoulders. He looks tired, but just like you, getting through the day. His eyes meet yours and give him a small smile.

“Sit wherever,” you tell him and he decides to sit along the bar, sitting across from where you stand.

“Good evening,” he gives you a small smile, running a hand over his face.

“Hey Tae,” you breathe out, handing him a menu. He holds up his hand, not wanting it.

“Just get me a latte, extra espresso please,” he says and you nod.

“Coming right up.”

It doesn’t even take you a minute to make lattes now. The process has become so familiar it’s become second nature. Mainly due to your own obsession with lattes and your determination to perfect them yourself. You top the mug off with some foam before sliding it over to Taehyung. He doesn’t wait for it to cool before taking a big gulp.

“Rough day?” You ask, leaning forward on your elbows.

“You don’t even know,” he grumbles, “I had a quiz in my hardest class today that I didn’t know about, therefore didn’t study for,” he pauses, “I had to pick up all the slack on a group project that’s due on Saturday and then I have had to deal with Jungkook’s dumbass all week and he was at his worst this morning,” he rolls his eyes.

The mention of Jungkook makes your heart flutter yet stomach feel nauseated, “What’s wrong with Jungkook?”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow at you, “Don’t you know?”

“Um… he hasn’t talked to me in a week,” you look down at your hands, your mouth dry.

“Jesus fuck,” Taehyung groans, “No wonder he’s been in such a fucking mood. What did he do?”

You weren’t sure how to go about your answer. Um, yeah, so like Jungkook wanted me to go home with him to have sex and I did too and I didn’t and I don’t know why. Sounds great.

“It wasn’t him. It was me,” you pause, “He asked me to go home with him.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen slightly, a small smirk on his face, “Did you?”

You shake your head, “No, I couldn’t bring myself to. I wanted to but…” you trail off, slightly embarrassed to be telling Taehyung this.

“Goddammit,” he nearly laughs, “No wonder he’s pissy. Between you and tomorrow, kid’s got his work cut out.” You pick up Taehyung joking around but you still furrow your eyebrows.

“What’s tomorrow?” You ask.

“The 13th. Did he not tell you?” Fuck. His fight. Without talking to Jungkook everyday, you had forgotten about the fight.

“He mentioned it.”

“Are you going?” The question catches you off guard.

“What, oh no,” you shake your head, “No, he didn’t ask and I don’t think that’s something I wanna see anyways.”

“Trust me, he wants you there,” he says, “He’s just being a dick.”

“He’s got a funny way of showing it,” you snap. “Every time something happens between us… he shuts me off. I don’t fucking get it.”

“Y/N he does this to everyone when he’s stressed,” Taehyung pauses, “Especially since, you know,” he shrugs. The fights.

You nod, “I get it,” you slump, “It’s still frustrating.”

“You don’t have to tell me that—at least you don’t live with him,” he gives you a laugh and you send a smile in return.

“How do you feel about it?” You ask him genuinely, “The boxing I mean…”

Taehyung squints his eyes briefly, “I think it’s stupid personally,” this answer warms your heart until he continues, “But if I was as good as Jungkook I would probably do it too. The money in these things are insane.”

You raise your eyebrows, “So I’ve heard.”

Taehyung nods before he gets a text on his phone. He reads it before smiling.

“Your girlfriend?” You probe curiously.

He clears his throat, “Uh, yeah,” he responds quickly before turning his phone over. “So, what exactly is going on between you two?”

“Uh, what do you mean?” You laugh sarcastically.

Taehyung deadpans his face, “You know what I mean. I know you guys have this weird chemistry, it’s obvious. Plus he hasn’t shut up about you since you started tutoring him. Y/N this, Y/N that… it’s disgusting.”

Did Jungkook really talk about you?

“Ask him, not me because I don’t even fucking know. I could tell you what Kim Namjoon and I are before I could define mine and Jungkook’s relationship.” You let out a laugh and other eye roll.

“I’m assuming you and hyung are… what do they say? Friends with…?”

“Yeah yeah whatever you wanna call it,” you swat your hand slightly embarrassed.

“Jungkook hates it you know,” he says, switching tones. “You and Namjoon.”

You slightly snort, “And why is that?” You could tell Jungkook didn’t like seeing you with Namjoon, even before last weekend after he voiced it.

“Because he knows Namjoon is the type of guy you’ve always wanted, not him.” This takes you completely off guard.

“Why would Jungkook care about that?” You furrow.

Taehyung shrugs, staying silent this time. You weren’t stupid—you knew what Taehyung was implying by saying what he said. It makes your stomach drop. Maybe Jungkook felt more for you than he supposed to as well?

“So are you gonna come tomorrow?” He asks.

“No Taehyung,” you say, “I don’t want to see Jungkook get the shit beat out of him.”

“Jungkook won’t get the shit beat out of him, I can promise you that.”

You eyes glance over to the door as a small group of people walk into the diner. You don’t say anything else to Taehyung as you walk over to greet them. You seat them and make your way back to Taehyung, but you can’t chat much longer as you now have a table to tend to.

“Listen Y/N,” Taehyung stops you before you can walk back over with menus for the group, “If you wanna come, just text me. Like I said Jungkook wants you there, whether he’s said so or not. Also, another latte please, you’re slacking woman.”

You swat him with the menus before walking away from him. Goddamn, these next 24 hours were going to be hell.

_____

You couldn’t remember the last time you were ever this nervous for someone aside from yourself in a very long time. You remember how nervous you were in high school when you got injured and Jennie had to double with a girl on the bench of the tennis team. You remember being nervous for your parents when you left for college. And now, you don’t ever recall a moment in your life where you have been this nervous for Jeon Jungkook of all people.

It was Friday at 3:43 PM and you day was slow but painless, and you had no official plans set for the evening. Taehyung had texted you, wondering if you wanted to hitch a ride along with him to the match. You had yet to answer him. His text mocking you from your screen and you wanted to pretend that you knew nothing of the boxing match but that was impossible.

[You 3:59 PM] What time should I be ready

You send the message before you could regret it and delete it. Jennie has yet to be home from going to the store and you would need a good, yet believable excuse for your absence tonight.

[Taehyung 4:00 PM] i’ll pick you up around 8

[You 4:00 PM] Sounds good. Have you spoken to Jungkook today?

[Taehyung 4:02 PM] no he’s been quiet all day. have you?

[You 4:02 PM] Nope

You don’t receive another text from him and you slump down on your couch. It had been nearing two full weeks since Jungkook had spoken to you. You felt like all of this was your fault, sending him mixed signals and unsure of your own feelings for him. From the secretive finger fuck to the gentle kiss you shared last week, Jungkook was on your mind 24/7—aside from taking exams of course—but he was all you could think about lately. Growing up, you obviously loved Jungkook and was practically glued to his hip, but even then you don’t recall thinking about him every single fucking second.

You pull at the roots of your hair and let out a frustrated groan. Maybe you should reach out? After all, without your initiation of friendship all those years ago, you wouldn’t be here now.

You pick up your phone and find Jungkook’s contact and before you can stop yourself, you tap the call button. Your hands are clammy and you know he probably won’t answer, but it’s worth a try. The line rings for about thirty seconds before it goes dead. That dumbass doesn’t even have voicemail set up.

Pissed off even more, you slam your phone against the coffee table and let out an exasperated ‘fuck’ before going to your room to take a nap. Fuck Jeon Jungkook, is the last thought you have before you drift off into sleep.

_____

Taehyung picked you up at 8:02, though you told Jennie it was Namjoon who picked you up and the two of you were having a night in. You think she believed it but left her before she could ask anymore questions.

“I just don’t fucking get it Taehyung, one second he’s fine and another he’s like a child throwing a fit,” you filled Taehyung in on how you tried to call him but to no avail.

“You don’t have to tell me how he is Y/N, I fucking live with the guy,” he groans from his drivers seat. “I just think he’s going through a lot right now… with school, his parents, the boxing, you… he’s never handle stress that well you know that.”

You let out a sigh, leaning against the window, “It’s just so frustrating trying to help him only to get cut off like this…”

Taehyung looks at you with an eyeful glance though you don’t notice. “Y/N, in his eyes you’ve cut him off too, you do realize that right?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What? No I haven’t?”

“Come on the little brat can’t keep his mouth shut. I know what happened with you two a couple weeks ago,” he says. You don’t say anything, cheeks getting warm. “And the weeks before that on our fucking balcony—“

“Okay what then Tae!” You interrupt him, too embarrassed by the memory.

“Jungkook is trying Y/N,” he says with a hint of a smirk, “He thinks you’re rejecting him,” Taehyung says matter-of-factly.

“Rejecting? C’mon Taehyung you know that I—“

“I know that you and Jungkook like each other, even though neither one of you have said anything, Jennie says it too.”

You narrow your eyebrows at your friend. “I don’t know what I think about Jungkook okay?” You’re being honest. You know you like Jungkook… but you’re scared of what that entails for the future. You want Jungkook in your future, you just don’t know what the right path is.

Taehyung doesn’t say anything else as he pulls his car into a fairly full parking garage. It’s dimly lit and slightly freaks you out. Taehyung had to drive to the other side of the city to get here and you don’t recognize the neighborhood around.

“Stay close to me, alright?” Taehyung opened your door for you and you nod without any argument. You follow Taehyung out of the parking garage into the chilly air and you huddle by his side. The two of you walk down a couple streets before he turns down a dark, dimly lit alleyway.

“Taehyung what the fuck,” you whisper and come to a halt. His brown eyes bleed into yours despite the darkness and he takes your hand into his.

“It’s okay,” he says reassuringly, “I promise.”

You nod reluctantly and the you continue to walk down the alley, coming to a stop at the end where you spot the familiar face of Min Yoongi. He’s standing down a small flight of stairs beneath you two and he greets Taehyung with a stiff smile.

“Taehyung, what’s up,” he says, his eyes immediately looking over at you, “Y/N?”

You tighten your grip around Taehyung’s hand, Yoongi’s stare quite intimidating.

“She should be on Jungkook’s list.”

You stay quiet knowing Taehyung doing the talking is the best strategy. Yoongi looks down at a clipboard—old fashioned but effective you guess—before nodding.

“You guys are good. Hurry and find a seat, there’s a lot of people down here tonight.”  

“You got it,”  Taehyung gives him a small smile before you drag behind him down the stairs and enter through a heavy door. You already hear plenty of commotion as you enter a huge space a few feet from the door. Your eyes look around and you could see nearly a hundred people just in your line of sight.

“Holy shit,” Taehyung says.

“What?” You get nervous by his tone.

“I’ve never seen this many people here, goddamn.”

“Why are there so many people here?” You spot a large boxing ring, dead center of the room and your mouth goes dry.

“I guess people like rematches?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow at you.

“Where’s Jungkook?” You ask, noticing how some eyes are staring at you, making you shift uncomfortably in your boots.

“Probably in the locker rooms… wanna see him?” He asks.

You bite your lip. “Does he wanna see us?” You hope Taehyung says yes. It’s killing you inside not being able to see him, hear him.

“Guess we’ll find out, c’mon,” he smirks and you follow him closely. As you look around, you do notice people you somewhat recognize. Whether it’s from walking around on campus or some of your classes, all these faces are not too unfamiliar. Taehyung takes you away from the crowd of people, through another set of doors and down another hallway. With this much walking and standing, you would have worn something other than booties. You enter the “locker room” area and you suddenly feel queasy. What if Jungkook is mad that you’re here? What if he doesn’t want to see you after all? What if—

“Y/N?” Your thoughts are broken by a honey-like voice and you focus in on the source. Jungkook sits a few feet away from you and Taehyung, back leaning against a wall. He looks confused, but also pleasantly surprised. “What are you doing here?” He gets up and does the unexpected—he embraces you in a tight hug. You return it without a second though, holding him close to you. He pulls away from you after a few moments and gives Taehyung a small hug too.

“Hey,” you say shyly.

“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks his friend and Jungkook shrugs.

“I’m alright.” Jungkook looks at you again. “I didn’t think you’d ever come to one of these,” he laughs awkwardly.

“Me either,” you say with no expression. As much as you wanted to be happy—you couldn’t. You were pissed at Jungkook for ignoring you and you were pissed that Jungkook was about to fight. You eye his frame, a white t shirt and navy sweatpants hang low on his hips. He looks calm, too calm for your liking.

“Will you give us a minute?” Jungkook suddenly turns to Taehyung and he nods glancing at you.

“I’ll get some seats.”

Taehyung leaves you and Jungkook alone and you nearly feel like crying. What the fuck is this mess?

“Y/N listen to me,” Jungkook says stepping towards you, “I’m so sorry about thess past two weeks. I-I’ve been a dick for no fucking reason and it’s not fair to you.”

You don’t say anything as you stand there with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Fuck I know I’m idiot and there’s no excuse… I’ve just been so stressed lately and you’re the best fucking part of my day—“

“Well why don’t you fucking act like it Jungkook? I’m sick of something happening between us and you acting like a I don’t exist for god knows what reason,” you raise your voice slightly.

“Y/N I,” he pauses, his hands finding their way to your shoulders, “I haven’t been honest with you and,” he pauses again and you feel your heart speed up. What’s he talking about? “I just wanna say—“

“Jungkook, you got five minutes,” the two of you turn to Park Jimin who seemed to come in at the wrong time.

“Fuck,” he says, “We’ll talk after okay?”

You nod hesitantly and before you can push yourself away from him, Jungkook places a kiss on your forehead and it makes your insides melt. Fuck, you meet his brown eyes, biting your lip nervously. 

A revelation springs into your mind; you think you might love him. He pulls you in for another hug, though this is one much shorter as Jimin is ushering you out of the locker room in the blink of an eye.

As much as you wanted to be mad at Jungkook, those thoughts had quickly subsided and replaced with butterflies and nausea. Did you really love Jungkook? You always have, but the feeling in the pit of your heart is pulling you to a different type of love. You cared about him, sometimes even more than yourself. You’ve always wanted the best for him, even if that meant sacrificing your feelings in the process. Now you were stuck between a rock in a hard place, much like you were back in high school when you had a crush on Jungkook. Fuck. And now you have to watch him fight someone like dogs,  

You shake yourself from your thoughts, as loud music flows through your ears and you look around for Taehyung. Luckily, his ashy hair color is easy to spot amongst the crowd and you push yourself to him, squeezing in between bodies and their chatter.

“My bet’s on Jeon,” a voice says.

“Fuck no, Eric isn’t gonna let the same guy beat him twice.”

You try to ignore the snide comments about Jungkook and when you get to Taehyung, he greets you with a smile.

“Hey, everything good?” He asks.

You lick you dry lips, “I don’t know,” you say honestly. Taehyung’s eyes drop and he nods. 

Suddenly, all the lights go out in the venue and a roar of screams and cheers fills the void. You stay still, pressing your body close to Taehyung. It’s not that you feel unsafe, but this environment—it wasn’t for you at all. You heart rate quickens when a man, give a few years on your age, gets into the boxing ring before you, the crowd cheering even louder for him. He bumps a microphone with his palm before bringing it to his mouth.

“Welcome, welcome!” He beams with a smile, “What an outstanding turnout we have tonight! You guys choose a good one to watch because tonight is the rematch of two of the best fighters I’ve seen in a long time…”

“Let’s give a welcome to our first fighter, weighing in at 148 pounds, 5 foot 11, Jeon Jungkook!”

Being an underground fighting ring, there isn’t a posse escorting Jungkook to the ring. He’s got Jimin by his left side, Min Yoongi on the right. Jungkook is shirtless, wearing only a pair of navy shorts, black and white boxing gloves on his hands. He enters the ring with cheers and you inhale and exhale deeply. You look up at Taehyung and he gives you a nod of reassurance to calm down. Jungkook jumps around in place a few times, shaking his arms and shoulders out. From your seat, you can’t read his eyes or facial expression—but he looks calm and unnerved.

“Coming in next, weighing in at 145 pounds, 6 feet tall, Kim Eric!”

Jungkook’s opponent walks in next, three guys surrounding him. He walks slow and steady, his bare chest tattooed beautifully, his boxing gloves a dark red. He enters the ring to cheers and this Eric guy’s gaze doesn’t leave Jungkook’s body one time. Jungkook hasn’t spared one glance at the guy and you find yourself somewhat smiling. Jungkook has always been a cocky-fuck when it’s come to sports which would usually annoy you, but here right now—he looked hot as fuck standing there as if he had no care in the world. Jungkook stands on the left corner of the ring, sitting on a small stool as Jimin and Yoongi talk to him. Jungkook nods, absorbing their information. Eric and his guys do the same.

Suddenly, both men stand and Jimin is putting a mouth guard in Jungkook’s mouth and with one last nod, he finally looks over at Eric, who has already made his way to the center of the ring with the announcer. Jungkook stalks over slowly, his eyes dark and hungry.

“Alright guys, I want a clean fight. No kicking, no cheap shots. If you get knocked down, I give you ten seconds to get up. You look me in the eyes and say you’re good before anymore fighting happens alright. We go for five rounds, unless more is needed. A knockout wins. Touch gloves.”

Jungkook sticks out his gloves for Eric but Eric only stares at him, ignoring the sign of solidarity.

“Fuck you,” Eric says to Jungkook and sends a chill down your spine. Jungkook rolls his eyes, backing away from him, but stays silent.

“Alright… ready… fight!”

Time slows as a bell rings loudly, the cheers get even louder, and you find yourself gripping Taehyung’s arm for support. Jungkook starts to move around the ring slowly, but Eric isn’t having that—immediately rushing to Jungkook to get a few jabs in. Jungkook manages to dodge them perfectly before Eric can corner him. Jungkook keeps his gloves high and never looks away from Eric. Eric comes after Jungkook again, jabbing once—twice—the third time hitting Jungkook square in the face.

“Shit,” you breathe out, eyes widening.

This time, Jungkook comes for Eric, his jabs coming quick and calculated, landing Eric in the body once. Jungkook jabs again and hits him in the face. Eric moves around quickly, Jungkook not quick to follow him. Eric comes after him again, Jungkook blocking his jabs, but missing at the end, leading to Jungkook getting hit in the face once again as well as a body shot.

Eric is coming in hot, throwing punches and jabs left and right, making Jungkook dance around to dodge them. After a few moments, Jungkook begins to fight back, landing Eric square in the face twice. You notice that Jungkook must have busted Eric’s lip as blood now protrudes from his mouth. This seems to send Eric into overdrive and attacks Jungkook quick and fast. You cover your mouth when Eric has Jungkook trapped against the rope, landing body punches after body punches.

“Alright!! Enough, break it up!!” The announcer gets Eric off of Jungkook and Eric starts to laugh in a very showman's way. Jungkook is breathing heavy and he tilts his head—a habit of his that comes out when he’s frustrated or angry. This seems to be both.

Jungkook and Eric continue to throw jabs at one another. Within a few seconds, the whole fight seems to change as Eric manages to slip past one of Jungkook’s blocks and lands him straight on the cheekbone. Jungkook’s body almost freezes before he falls back on the floor and you gasp at the sight.

“Fuck! Taehyung—“

“He’s fine, he’s fine,” he says but his eyes never met yours.

The announcer is on the floor with Jungkook counting down from ten and Jungkook finally sits up when he reaches the number four.

“You good son?” The guy asks Jungkook.

He nods, “Yeah, let’s go.”

Jungkook gets up and walks around, stretching his neck around, waiting for the ref to announce the second round.

“That’s what you get motherfucker,” Eric says walking past him to his corner. Again, Jungkook says nothing before sitting down. Jimin takes out his mouth guard and lets Jungkook drink some water.

“Why is Jungkook letting him hit him like that?!” You ask Taehyung, looking up to him, “He’s getting his ass kicked!”

Taehyung shakes his head, “Jungkook’s smart Y/N… he’s trying to run Eric’s energy out. If Eric keeps swinging the way he right now, he’ll be passed out on his own soon.”

The second round commences and this time, it’s Jungkook who comes out fast. Jungkook soon has Eric trapped against the rope, landing jab after jab. The ref intervenes and lets them get some air. Jungkook’s skin is sweaty and red hot and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look as mad as he does right now.

Eric counters quickly, catching up with Jungkook again, landing punch after punch. Jungkook escapes but Eric sticks out a foot, causing Jungkook to trip. The whole crowd—yourself included—start to yell at the action. The referee pulls Eric back and points his finger at him. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you know it’s a scolding by the way his mouth is moving quickly. You look over at Jungkook who shakes his head disapprovingly. He’s talking to Jimin as Yoongi cares to a cut on Jungkook’s eyebrow.

“He’s a fucking asshole,” you make out Jungkook saying.

The third round starts and it seems both Eric and Jungkook are equally fighting this time. Jungkook’s combinations are cleaner than Eric’s, anyone can see that, but the way Eric keeps landing in on Jungkook—makes you feel like this isn’t going to end well for him.

“Come on Jungkook!” You find yourself yelling in the chaos, your whole body shaking as Jungkook dances around the ring to get away from Eric. Eric has him trapped again, but with Jungkook’s strength, gets Eric off of him to turn the tables. There’s sweat and blood coming off both fighters and it’s got to be the most horrifying thing you’ve ever seen.

“Come on you little bitch,” Eric spits at Jungkook, “Is that all you’ve fucking got?”

Jungkook says nothing again, jabbing when he needs to.

“Fucking hell why won’t you speak to me you fucker?” Eric speaks again.

“I don’t have shit to say to you,” Jungkook finally retorts back. “You lost my respect when you sent those pussies to jump Park and I.”

Eric swings hard and Jungkook ducks, barely missing it by an inch. Eric is tired, Jungkook too, but Jungkook can see a weakness in him now.

“Come on it was all in good fun,” he says with a smirk, “You know what else would be good fun?”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything.

“Kicking your ass,” he pauses and before Jungkook can do anything else, Eric swings down hard, landing on Jungkook’s body knocking the breath out of him. Jungkook stumbles backwards, holding his stomach, he lands again on the ground with a clunk. Eric stands over him, before taking out his mouthpiece, “And stealing your bitch you invited tonight.”

“Goddammit,” you mutter watching the scene unfold in front of you. No one knows what they’re saying to each other over the noise and you honestly couldn’t care. You just want Jungkook to get up and finish this shit.

Jungkook stands up, though with a visible wince in his face. He’s breathing heavy and is filled with pure rage. The fourth bell rings and it doesn’t take long for Jungkook to attack him. Jungkook is fast and furious, landing punch after punch and you’ve never been happier for someone to get their ass kicked. Jungkook lands a punch straight across the face, causing Eric to stumble backwards. Even though you know nothing about boxing, Eric looks exhausted where Jungkook looks ready for more. With everything left in Eric, he starts coming after Jungkook. Jungkook blocks until he can’t block no more, but something in Jungkook’s stance changes. Jungkook steps forward, his right hand landing straight on Eric’s face cause his form to break. Jungkook steps quickly again, his left hand bringing an uppercut to Eric’s jaw.

The room nearly falls silent as Eric loses balance, going down straight on his back and head. When he hits the ground, the room erupts in a roar so loud it nearly deafens you.

“Holy shit!” Taehyung exclaims. The ref is down on the ground, counting down from 10, and then it’s at 5 and then 3 and then—

“Ladies and gentlemen, Jeon Jungkook wins this rematch!” The ref grabs Jungkook’s hand and holds it up over his head and you find yourself jumping up and down, pulling Taehyung down for a hug.

“Taehyung oh my fucking god!” You exclaim. He smiles brightly at you.

“I told you, he knows what he’s doing,” he says and you nod. You couldn’t deny it now—as stupid as Jungkook was for getting involved in this, his talent for the sport was extraordinary. “Come on, let’s get to his locker room,” Taehyung pulls you by your hand and you make your way back to where you were earlier.

Jungkook hasn’t arrived yet, but you find Yoongi already in there, setting out a first aid kit.

“Hey guys,” he says, “Great fight, huh?”

“Yeah, it was brilliant,” Taehyung says. The door opening catches your attention and Jungkook walks through with Jimin.  Your eyes instantly meet and you can’t even stop yourself from running to him and throwing your arms around him. He exhales deeply with a sharp wince, returning your bone crushing grip with his own.

“Alright lovebirds, he needs to get fixed up,” Yoongi’s voice interrupts you two. You hesitantly let him go and he sits down in front of Yoongi, sitting forward on his knees. He’s still breathing heavy, dripping sweat everywhere.

“Fucking hell Jungkook, since when do you box southpaw?” Taehyung pushes his shoulder slightly and Jungkook only laughs as Yoongi wipes away the blood on his eyebrow.

“I’ve been working on it for awhile,” he says, “Just never had the right time to use it… until tonight at least,” he says giving you a glance. “Eric is all talk, no bite. I can’t fucking stand him.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be boxing him again anytime soon,” Jimin says, “He’s embarrassed himself twice now.”

“Yeah, agreed,” Yoongi chimes in, placing one of those bandaids that pull the skin together like stitches above Jungkook’s eyebrow. “No one will want to box you now knowing you can southpaw.”

Jungkook looks at you and you furrow your eyebrows at him. He said he wasn’t going to fight after this, but the way they are talking—it sounds as if he is.

“Well, I think my boxing career is probably over after tonight,” Jungkook speaks up as if he could read your mind. He tears his eyes away from you as the others look confused.

“What?!”

“Why?”

“Jungkook c’mon!”

“Guys,” he breathes out, “I made a promise, okay? Besides, I have enough money now, I don’t need anything else.”

Your features soften as you listen to his words. His promise was to you. A smile grows on your face as you watch his body calm down from his intensified state. Once Yoongi is finished, he packs everything up. The five of you talk amongst yourselves before Taehyung turns to you.

“You ready to go home?” He asks.

“I can take you home,” Jungkook says before you can answer.

“Okay,” you give him a small smile that he returns.

“Okay then, I’m gonna head out, I won’t be home tonight Jungkook,” he says.

“I know I know, at your girlfriends,” Jungkook swats his hand and Taehyung flips him off before leaving.

Jungkook stands up throwing on a shirt and slipping into Birkenstocks. “Come on,” he says to you, holding out his head. You gladly take it and it feels more like home than home ever has.

_____

“Fuck Jungkook, how much money is this?” You ask him as he hands you a white envelope as he unbuckles himself in the driver seat. The envelope is thick and you peak out of curiosity, your jaw dropping.

“I told you,” he says snatching it back from you, “As much food as I’ve bought you lately, hopefully this will last.”

You swat at his sarcastic comment before letting out a laugh. Instead of going home, you asked Jungkook to go anywhere but there. You’re parked outside of his apartment complex, which was fine with you. The two of you needed to talk. Not much talking goes on as a silence falls between you two.

“Y/N.”

“Jungkook.”

The two of you laugh as you speak at the same time.

“You first,” you say, turning your body to face him fully.

He takes a deep breath before speaking, “I know I said it earlier but I really am sorry about this past week. There’s not an excuse that justifies me acting like a complete dick to you, especially when you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

You stay quiet, unsure of what to say.

“And when I said you’re the best part of my day… I fucking mean it. I’m sorry for coming onto you like I have, I just,” he doesn’t finish, his eyes looking everywhere but you.

“Jungkook,” you get his attention again, reaching over the console to grab his hand, “Don’t apologize for that. Yeah, you’ve been a dick each time something happens between us but that’s the apology I care about.”

“I just don’t know how to say it,” he mutters, caressing your hand gently.

“So you’re really not going to box anymore?” you inquire. Jungkook was good, more than good... it couldn’t be easy giving up on that. 

He shakes his head, “No. I told you I didn’t want you worrying about me anymore. I keep my promises,” his smile his sweet and you swear your feel yourself melting more and more into his touch. 

“Jungkook,” you let out a deep sigh, “I didn’t realize how much I needed you in my life until we became friends again. You know almost everything about me and I don’t want anyone else to ever take your place…”

It’s hanging there by a thread—the words on your tongue—and you’re not sure you can say them and they feel constricting—but you know you have to and—

“I love you,” the words come from your mouth and you feel like you could puke. “I don’t know when or why, but I’m in love with you Jungkook. You’re all I think about anymore and I don’t want anyone else when you’re right here.”

Jungkook parts his mouth, staring at you with a look you can’t read. Fuck, you fucked this up for sure.

“Shit—I know that was so rushed and stupid. Fuck I’m an idiot—“

“Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice interrupts you and you try to hide within your own body from embarrassment. With your hand of yours in his, he pulls on it, forcing you closer to him. You look at him wide eyed before he presses his lips against yours firmly. As usual, his lips feel so good and you melt into him. This is good right? What the hell is going on? You pull away from him after a few moments, an unsure look on your face.

He nuzzles his nose against your own before speaking, “I’ve wanted to tell you that since the night of our graduation.”

“Really?” You ask as you feel your palms sweat, heart racing.

He nods, “I’ve been in love with you for god knows how long now.”

A smile creeps upon your face and you let out a sigh of relief. Jungkook watches you with interest, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

“I can take you home whenever,” he says quietly.

You’re quick to shake your head,  “No, it’s okay… I can stay, if you want,” your voice trails off and you suddenly feel shy under his gaze.

You don’t notice how Jungkook bites his lip but he does say, “Yeah. Of course.”

_____

Jungkook’s apartment is how you remember it, though a lot quieter without Taehyung here. You’re sure the reason Jungkook’s apartment is spotless is because of him. He has always been clean and organized and Taehyung… well he was Taehyung.

“I’m gonna get in the shower, my room is in here if you wanna chill,” Jungkook says and you give him a small nod. He rids his shirt before he even closes the bathroom door and it makes you gulp. This is new territory for the both of you. The two of you just admitted your love for one another and you’re about to spend the night with Jungkook? And not in a friend way? Jesus Christ you could be tripping.

You walk into Jungkook’s room and it smells just like him. His bed is neatly made and his desk is sprawled with two computer monitors and some notebooks from school. His walls are decorated as you’d expect—a Korean flag hanging, a ‘Saturday’s Are For The Boys’ flag—typical—and a few Beta Tae Sigma plaques scattered. What catches your eye is a wall of neatly lined photos taped to the wall. You look around at all of them with a smile. Most of them are Jungkook and his frat brothers, Taehyung, a few of his older brother, there’s even a picture of you, him, Taehyung, and Jennie from high school. One that catches your eye the most is one of just you and him. It’s an old picture but the memories from that day flood your mind. It was from your first week of freshman year here at university. Both of your smiles are wide and you two are hugging each other’s frames closely. Jennie took the picture you remember. It makes you smile to yourself, butterflies entering in your stomach. Did you love Jungkook then and didn’t know it? The way you’re looking at him in the picture would say so.

You suddenly feel an urge to be close to him again. You’ve never been a ballsy person but as you look back at the bathroom door that’s closed, your desire to be touched again by Jungkook again overwhelms your senses. Closing your eyes briefly, you don’t need much more convincing before your stripping yourself of your jacket and shoes. You kick off your jeans and sweater, leaving you only in your undergarments. You tip toe to the bathroom, grabbing the handle, opening it easy.

The shower water is loud and there’s steam in the small quarters. Jungkook is humming to himself as you start to take off the rest of your clothing. With a deep breath, you grab the shower curtain, pulling it back. Jungkook’s back is facing you but he hears you instantly.

“Shit Y/N you scar—“ he stops mid sentence as he takes in your naked frame getting in the shower too.

“Hi,” you mumble meeting his eye contact.  

“H-hey,” he nearly chokes on his own air, trying to keep his eyes up from your breasts.

“Scooch,” you smirk at him to move to get underneath the water too. He does as you say watching you curiously. You’re in the process of wetting your hair when his chest is pressed firmly against your back.

“This wasn’t expected,” he says into your ear, his hands moving to grip your waist from behind.

“You’re the one that wanted me to go home with you,” you say giving him an innocent glance over your shoulder. He laughs biting his lip, pressing them against the skin behind of your ear. You lean into the physical contact, feeling almost all of your stress go away instantly.

You spin around to look at him fully as it’s a frenzy whose mouth collides with whose. He leans down to grasp your lips in their entirety, pulling you closer to him than you ever have been. He pulls you away from the water so it doesn’t get in your face as he presses you against the shower wall. His tongue dips in and out of your mouth, his hands free roaming over your breasts and down to your ass, whatever he likes within the moment. Your hands grip his dark locks as he moves his mouth from your mouth, to your neck, down to your chest. He waste no time taking your right nipple in his mouth and you exhale deeply at the feeling.

You pull his face back to yours, kissing him again not able to get enough of his lips. His hands trail down from your ass to the front of your thighs, getting closer and closer to your wet center.

“Is this okay?” He asks as his fingers rub slowly back forth between your entrance. You can barely speak as his touch is setting you on fire but you manage to nod.

“Yes, please, Jungkook,” you say. He enters one finger, then another stretching you out nicely. Fuck you forgot how good this felt with him.

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he breathes heavily and you glance down at his hardening cock. Your mouth waters at the sight. Jungkook lifts one of your legs and starts to take his fingers in and out of you slowly and agonizing. He fingers you deep and rough and you can already feel a climax coming.

“Shit,” you croak out as Jungkook rubs one of your nipples, kissing your neck. There’s a pain at the back of your head at his force pushing you against the wall but it’s easy to ignore when it feels so good below your waist. “Jungkook, I’m gonna come,” you say as the snap inside of you is about to break.

“Come on baby,” his voice is deep and groggy. As if on cue, you feel your climax wash over you and you’re not shy to be loud. You know no one is here so it doesn’t bother you one bit. Jungkook kisses you against feverishly as he pulls his fingers from you. You feel impossibly empty but you know what you want to do and you’re not near anywhere tired. Your hands travel down to his front, grasping his hard dick in your hands. God, he’s so big.

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook seethes through his teeth as you pull on the sensitive skin, all the way from his pubic hair down to the tip. He places a hand beside of your head, leaning forward against your forehead. His eyes are shut tightly and you lick your lips, wanting to take him in your mouth.

You push him away from you slightly and move down to your knees, your face front and center with his beautiful dick. You take no time to put him in your mouth which causes Jungkook to groan loudly.

“Y/N,” he says looking down at you. He’s never seen a better sight. You make sure to keep eye contact as you bob your head up and down his shaft. While one of Jungkook’s hands stays against the wall, his other grips your hair, fisting it into a makeshift ponytail. “Oh fuck—He pulls on your hair and it only makes you want to please him more. Your left hand go to his balls, the right helping you up and down his length. He pulls your hair again and you take as much of him as you can. His tip reaches the back of your throat and you gag around his length and Jungkook thinks he could actually cry. Watching you through half open lids, he decides this isn’t how he is going to come—not tonight at least.

He grabs your hair and pulls you away from him and you’re slightly confused when he brings you to your feet.

“Come on, I need to be inside of you,” he says and you nod eagerly as he turns off the shower. He leads you out of the bathroom in a frenzy, pulling up into his bedroom. You shut the door behind you and he pins you against it, kissing you hard and deep.

Both of you are dripping wet but neither of you care to dry off as he carries you to his bed. You settle on his lap as his hands rest on your waist tightly. Your hands grip his face just as tight but you’re careful not to touch his injury above his brow. You couldn’t believe he was just fighting two hours ago—that seemed like forever ago compared to now. A lot can change in a short period of time and it makes you slightly chuckle against his mouth.  

“What?” He breaks the kiss asking you with a hazy grin.

You shake your head, “Nothing,” you smile pushing his hair from his forehead. You liked seeing it. “I love you,” you repeat. And you probably won’t stop, ever.

“I love you too,” he says, “So much.”

“Let me ride you,” you whisper in his ear and his eyes light up like a child. “Are you clean?” You ask him. 

He nods quickly, “You?” You nod in response and both of you feel excited and anxious. 

You rub your hand against his length again and you hold it up as you adjust yourself to sit on him. As soon as his tip enters you, a shiver runs down your spine. As you sink yourself lower, groans come from both of your mouths, a deep moan erupting from you when you bottom out.

“Oh my god,” you breathe in and out to control yourself.

“Ride me baby,” he says and you start to move your hips against his. He fills up every inch of you and it feels so good. Your hips lift away from his and he chases them with his own thrusts. He kisses your neck as you throw your head back, your hands digging into his shoulders for leverage.  

“Fuck Jungkook,” you say seeing stars in your eyes, “You feel so good,” you whine.

“You have no idea,” he says against your sticky skin, one of his hands bruising into your waist helping you ride him in a fluid motion. “Goddammit,” he says.

As you grind against him, your clit rubs against his pubic hair, sending your toes curling. He senses that you’ve found your sweet spot against him and places his thumb there instead to rub the sensitive bud.

You feel yourself inching closer and closer to a second climax when Jungkook stalls your motion.

“Lay on your stomach,” he breathes and you do as he says climbing off of him quickly. He doesn’t even give you time to get there all the way before he’s grabbing your hips to pull your ass to him. He slides right into you and you nearly scream into his mattress. Your hands grip the sheets as he fucks you deeper from behind. He smacks your ass once, twice sending a loud whine from your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter trying to focus on Jungkook’s whines and small ministrations from his mouth. He reaches forward, rubbing your clit again and you want to die and go to heaven at the feeling. Neither of you try to be quiet anymore as you feel the second orgasm coming over you. You clench and unclench around Jungkook’s length as he stalls his thrusts to feel the action.

“Come inside of me,” you say, knowing both of you are clean and you have an IUD.

“Jesus,” he breathes, picking up his pace again chasing after his own high. As the sensitivity becomes too much, Jungkook finally lets go, coming deep inside of you. He holds your hips close against him, trying to deepen his climax as far as possible. The hot cum inside of you feels good and you moan at the feeling.

When Jungkook finishes completely in you, he pulls out with a sigh. You collapse against the bed, completely spent. Jungkook finds a clean rag in his pile of clean laundry and is quick to clean yourself and him up. You feel like you can barely move as Jungkook joins you in his bed. He turns you over to face him and he kisses you gently which you return happily.

“I love you,” he says for the third time tonight, kissing your nose.

“I love you too,” you entangling your legs together. The room is silent apart from your breathing and you’re about to go to sleep when he nudges you with his hand.  

“Come on,” he says.

“What?” You ask.

“Let’s actually take a shower now since someone wouldn’t let me,” he eyes you with accusation.

You squint at him before flipping him off. “Fuck off.”

_____

The next morning you wake up with Jungkook hugging you from behind, his face nuzzeled in your hair. You have no clue what the time may be, but you since it’s early by the way the birds chirp out the window. You stretch out your arms as best as you could and try to move your legs, but it doesn’t work since Jungkook’s heavy legs are tangled with your own. You’re tempted to fall back asleep but when Jungkook moves behind you, you turn to see his ruckus. You’re met with his brown eyes and you jump slightly, not expecting to see him awake. Both of you let out the faintest of laughs, not saying anything.

Jungkook leans over and kisses your lips, “Good morning.” His voice is groggy and he shuts his eyes again as you fully turn your body to his.

“Good morning,” you respond, watching the way his chest rises and falls gently. “How’d you sleep?”

“Hmm, really good,” he mumbles. You are about to join him in closing your eyes again until a loud rumble comes from your belly. Jungkook laughs.

“Hungry much?”

“Starving,” you groan, “I didn’t eat dinner last night.”

“Why not?”

“I was too nervous before your match… I thought I would yak if I ate,” you answer. Stupid, you know, but it was your train of thought last night.

He opens his eyes again, “Let’s go to the diner for breakfast… employee discount.”

You glare at him, “Is that all I am to you? A fucking employee discount,” you say saracastically.

“And my girlfriend if that helps?” He raises an eyebrow. Your cheeks heat up and you smile.

“Welllll, since my boyfriend is rich now and gets a discount, I’m assuming he’s paying.”

He smirks, “Obviously.”

“Will you take me to my place so I can change? And then we’ll go?”

He nods, his hand caressing the side of your body, “As much as I wanna stay in bed, I could really go for pancakes right now.”

“Waffles are superior,” you remark.

He frowns with a disgusted face, “Get the fuck out of my bed you heathen.”

_____

Jungkook insisted on coming up to your apartment with you because he didn’t want to wait in the car, but you know he just wants to see you change in front of him. Boys are all the fucking same.

As you fumbled with the key, the door opens and whatever Jungkook is saying to you is suddenly drowned out when you see—

“Jennie?”

“Taehyung?”

The names leave yours and Jungkook’s mouth as you watch the scene in front of you. Jennie is sitting on the counter, Taehyung in between her legs with a coffee cup in hand. Could be worse but what the fuck is going on?!

“Shit,” Jennie says pushing away Taehyung. “Hey guys,” she smiles awkwardly. You and Jungkook look at each other confused before Jungkook speaks.

“Uh, Taehyung?” He asks and Taehyung is. as red as a tomato.

“Oh fuck,” Jennie mutters shaking her head. She looks at Taehyung for backup.

Taehyung pinches his nose before speaking, “Um… we’re dating.”

You and Jungkook have the same reaction as your mouth drops.

“Jennie is your secret girlfriend?” Jungkook asks.

“Surprise,” Jennie smiles again looking at you.

You look at Jungkook and shake your head at the four of you. What a fucking cliché.

The four of you go to breakfast together that morning and it’s like old times, just with a sprinkle of something new. As long as the four of you have known each other, you’ve always had each other’s backs. Even now, with you and Jungkook and Jennie and Taehyung—you know that would never change from here on out. Turns out, Jennie just thought her and Taehyung were friends with benefits, while Taehyung was telling everyone he had a girlfriend because he was that smitten with her. The four of you laugh at the situation at hand and you couldn’t believe everyone was back together... like this. As Jungkook’s pancakes and your waffles arrive, Jungkook’s beaming smile lighting the whole room you think to yourself—this is how it’s supposed to be. 

[clearlydiamondz]

Drug Lords

Erik!Stevens x Black!Reader

- - - - - - - - - -

Drug lord Erik Stevens have some dealings with his weapon supplier. He makes it known that no one is going to mess with her..

Warning: Smut, cursing, killing, 

- - - - - - - - - -

(Y/N) woke up at around 2:00 in the morning, her sleep was totally off. She went to bed around 10 but for some odd reason she couldn’t get to sleep. It was messing up her entire sleep schedule. She looked at her phone and saw that she had a text message from the one and only Erik Stevens. He sent a text over a little hour ago. She opened it.

Erik- you up?

She rolled her eyes. It’s been a couple of weeks since she last talked to him. She cussed him out when one of his little hoes had the nerves to hit her phone up after getting her number, saying how she was going to beat her ass when he find out who she was.

Little did she know who she really was...

She knew why he was texting her. It was a Friday night, he was most likely drunk and wanting to have sex. She’s not going to lie, she wanted some dick. And Erik sure as hell knew how to deliver it. She decided to text him back.

maybe, why ?

She grabbed her phone, slipping on one of her over sized T-Shirts and walked downstairs.

At the age of 24, (Y/N) ran her own ring. She moved and sold weaponry and technology to other lords, Erik being one of them. She made a lot of money, and made quite the reputation for herself. Erik respected that.

Erik- I’m pullin up,

She didn’t text him back. She gave him a keycard to her penthouse months ago whenever he wanted to come here and lay low.

She walked into her office, walking to her safe and grabbing her pink weed jar, wraps and her lighter. She walked back to the kitchen rolling a blunt. She heard the elevator coming up, before looking and seeing him step out. He had on a dark grey Nike sweat suit, a pair of white Nike Air Forces, and a black beanie.

“Why are you up?” he asked her placing his keys and wallet on the counter. She shrugged.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“So you decided to roll a blunt?” he asked leaning on the counter as she nodded.

“Yup, maybe this could help.” she smelled the liquor on him.

“How you get her so fast?” she asked him as he shrugged his shoulders.

“I was on my way when you texted me back.” he said.

‘What if I had someone over here?” she asked him tilting his head to the side as he rolled his eyes, smacking his teeth.

“(Y/N) stop fucking playing with me.” he told her as she scoffed.

“Whatever, I would offer you a drink but you seem a little tipsy.” she chuckled, bringing the blunt to her lips before lighting it. She took a breath letting the smoke fill before letting it out. Erik grabbed the blunt from her taking a puff of it, a longer  one than she.

“Damn this is good...” he coughed a bit before she tilted her head.

“So um, why are you here?” she asked him tilting her head to the side. “It’s not very usual that Erik tries to see the girl who cussed him out.” she said drinking from her water bottle.

“Well for one, I wanted to come by and see you. I’ve been texting your phone and you have been ignoring me.” he said as she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah... because I’m mad at you. I don’t need another one of your little bitches texting me.” she said in a matter of fact tone.

“Bruh I said, I don’t know how that bitch got into my phone, dead ass.” he said as she shook her head. “I’m being forreal. We did things a couple of months ago, I’m guessing she thought it was something more. She was over at JJ’s house while we were playing poker and I left my phone in kitchen. I’m guessing she saw the messages.. you know actually I think she saw the video of you playing in ya pussy and thought-��� she hit him in the arm as he laughing.  

“I’m playin... but I still got that video.” he said. For some odd reason, him still having that video made her feel a little thump down there, but she couldn’t let him know that.

Erik did miss her.. like a lot. Nevermind the sex, he just loved being in her presence. In being without her for the past few weeks without her had a huge tole on him.

“Yeah because your a nasty ass nigga. That’s why.” she said taking the blunt from him, making her way back upstairs him following her. “You’re lucky I didn’t come by and shoot that bitch in her face.”

“Trust me.. you would’ve done been doing us both a favor.” he said. “Also, I want to make a deal with you. Word on the street you got some new weaponry, parts from Stark Industries.” she shrugged her shoulders.

“Maybe? Now that Tony is dead, government been trying to move his weapons. Straight disrespectful.” she said walking into her room. He took off his shoes and sweat shirt showing the white tank top, and his scars. “A couple of people interrupted the move, stole some equipment. Sold it on the black market,  I got my hands on some of the equipment. It was a hefty penny though. Making sure it couldn’t be tracked, tweaking it and shit. Costed me over 5 million for everything.” she said sitting on her bed taking a puff from the blunt. She was definitely starting to feel the high.

“How much you selling it for?”

“Well, I was able to make different things with it. So, depending on what it is. The lowest price I got so far is 250k.” she said handing him the blunt. He sat down in the recliner she had in her room.

“Damn,,”

“Yeah, I’ve already got people trying to do pre-orders but you know that’s not really my thing.” she said.

“So, will I be able to get my hands on a few.” he asked her as she laughed.

“Oh, your too funny. Just like everyone else, you need to come in contact with my team. Then I’ll see if you can get some of those products.” she responded. He kissed his teeth.

“Sorry, just because you’re the only client that I’ve had sex with doesn’t mean you can just get to me to get access or discounts.” she said. “If I thought with my Punani instead of my head with y’all niggas, I’d be broker than broke. No offense.”

“Yeah, you got a point.” she put the blunt on the night stand before standing up. She walked towards him, throwing her legs over him, sitting down in his lap before he leaned back placing his hands on her ass rubbing it.

“I’m guessing you missed me too.”

“Yeah, I guess I missed your big headed ass.” she sighed, as he gave her ass a slap. She jumped a bit before biting his lip. He forgot that she liked that.

She felt his dick pressing on her. “What you want from me, huh?” he asked her as they smirked each other. His plump lips was pouted and his eyes hang low, probably feeling a little high from the blunt. All she saw was a beautiful ass man, with a face she could use as a seat.

“I wanna ride your face.”

He raised an eyebrow at her as she smiled innocently at him. His mouth started to water at the thought of her pussy in his mouth. It was crazy how sweet she tasted, especially when she came. Tasted like honey and brown sugar.

He placed his hands under ass before standing up and walking to her bed. He placed her down before looking at her. He leaned down grabbing her by the con before leaning in for a kiss. The kiss was sweet and passionate. He really wanted to show her how much he missed her.

As they kissed, his hand trailed up the shirt coming into contact with her clothed wetness. He pulled them off with both hands still kissing her. His fingers found her clot rubbing it. His fingers were cold, she shivered at the coldness and the sensitivity. She moaned into the kiss as he pulled away.

“I’m barely touching you and your already breaking.” he chuckled. He sat down beside her before taking his shoes of then pulling her into his lap and laying back. “Come set that pussy on my tongue.” without a second thought, she lifted  her shirt, letting it sit over her ass as she placed herself on his tongue. Without hesitation, Erik had his tongue deep inside of her.

He could physically feel her squeezing himself around his dick making him moan, “Fuck daddy... eat my pussy just like that.” she whimpered out. He gripped her ass cheeks, squeezing one as she moaned.

She grinded her hips, riding his tongue as she threw her head back. He was trying to talk to her, but he had his mouth full.

He reached down, grabbing his dick palming it through his sweats. It was getting painful, and the restrictions of his sweatpants was not helping. She looked back and saw him touching his self before an idea popped into her head.  

“Hold up.” she lifted herself off before turning around. She hovered over his face, pulling the band from his sweatpants down. She pulled down the red and black Gucci boxers down freeing him as he winced. She looked at his dick before licking her lips. He was beautiful. Long and thick, pre cum dripping down the sides running down the veins. Within a split second, her lips wrapped around the tip, as her tongue swirled around it collecting all of his pre cum. She  moaned at the taste, he always tasted like fruit.

“Fuck.. don’t tease me. Put all of daddy in ya mouth.” he grunted. She followed his instructions before wrapping her hands around the base of his dick. She moved her hands slowly stroking as she sucked him.

“C’mon on daddy, keep eating my pussy..” she encouraged him as he moaned.

“Freaky ass.. I got you.” His lips wrapped her clit, sucking on it as she moaned around his dick. The feeling of giving and receiving pleasure at the same time wasn’t new to her, but her first time doing it, she knew that this wasn’t the last time doing it.

He was big, but she was determined to fit him all her in mouth. And she did just that. His dick was deep in her throat, she hummed in pleasure, the vibrations sent to him as he let out a deep  moan. “Fuck baby girl...” he moaned as she smiled. She leaned up, stroking him while rubbing along his hard dick, her spit dripping down to his balls.

He slowly thrusted into her hand as she smirked at his desperation. Finally, she had him like putty in her hands. She lifted up off of him before kissing him. She straddled his hips, his dick slightly rubbing against her pussy, the both of them moaning. She stood up, breaking away from her as she smiled.

She pulled the T-Shirt from her body before he stood up, taking off his clothes. She got down on her knees before looking up at him, batting her eyelashes at him. “You want daddy to fuck your throat. Huh?” he asked cupping her cheeks as she nodded. “No, say it.”

“I want daddy to fuck my throat.. pretty please.” she begged licking the tip as he threw his head bad.

“There you go, beg me. Open your fucking mouth.” he said. Her mouth was open and he inserted her mouth, before thrusting in and out of he mouth. She loved gagging on his dick, and she knew that he loved that sound.

He was talking, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was just focused on the attack on her throat. She snuck her hands down the front, inserting a finger in her wetness before moaning, her eyes rolling back as she fingered herself.

“Yeah, play with that wet ass pussy. I can hear that shit all the way from up here.” she looked up at him, holding his dick in her throat. He pulled out.

“There is no way I’m cumming like that.” he said before grabbing her by her face and lifting her up. He smashed his lips into her, the two of them kissing in sync. “Fuck me...” she whispered. In a swift movement, Erik pushed her on the bed, as she opened up her legs.

The wetness was smeared all on her inner thighs, the center glowing with her wetness as she smirked at him. “Fuck..” he grunted getting in between her legs. He kissed her, distracting her from her. He inserted her as she gasped.

“Shit daddy..” she moaned. Damn she was hella tight. “Fuck your too big.” she whispered throwing her head back. Erik kissed along her neck, to her chin, then placed a kissed on her lips.

“Quit all that, take this dick like a big girl. Ain’t ya first time, so take it.” he said slowly stroking her. Already, she was creaming on his dick.

“Mmm, daddy. Fuck me just like that.” she whimpered out as he smiled at her.

“Yeah.. that’s right. Take this dick in that tight ass pussy. Making a mess all over my dick.. disrespectful.” he grunted out. She bit down on her lip, opening her eyes meeting his. She clenched her self tighter just to get a reaction out of him. His eyes fluttered closed, as he clenched his jaw. She smirked. .

“Daddy don’t slow down, that shit feels too good.” she teased him. It pissed him off how fast she was about to cum.. way too fast. And she was teasing him about it.

“Come up here ride my shit, since you wanna be all bold and shit. Hurry that ass up.” They flipped over as Erik was on his back. She sat down on his dick moaning as it hit her walls.

“Shit.. just use my shit bitch. That’s it.” he grunted as she moaned. She was so close and he was too. Maybe it was just because of the way that they were fucking each other, or maybe it was because it’s been a minute since the last time they fucked, but the two of them were both on edge.

She leaned back opening her legs as she showing him going in and out of her. “Feels so good.” she whispered to herself.

“Yeah show me all that. Just nasty..” he grunted fucking up into her. He was cumming. There was no point in stopping or trying to hold back considering he was close. And by the look and feel of the things, she was close to. 

“Daddy...  I’ma gonna-” She was interrupted by him cumming deep inside her walls. He moaned out, digging his hands in her ass as she moaned out loud. She continued fucking him, chasing her own orgasm. 

“Fuck.. fuck.” he grunted out as she continued riding him. That’s when she squirted all over his stomach. She fell forward, her head resting in her neck as they stayed like that for a minute. 

“We need to go again.. that shit was-”

“Hold up.. I need to catch my breath. You know I got asthma.” she said as he laughed. 

“You need ya inhaler or something?”

“Nah, lemme just catch my breath.”

- - - - - - - - - - - 

(Y/N) walked into the warehouse, looking at her woman pointing their gun at the poor man. The captain of the group, Venom, had her knife to his neck. 

Let’s just say, her team was ruthless. They were a team made of women, who handled her.. business. They were called the Mona Lisa’s. Mainly because they showed no remorse or emotion. But because the actual Mona Lisa was beautiful and mysterious, they gained that nickname. The tricked men into get information, they were amazing actresses actually. They could make somebody feel wanted and loved... and we all know how dangerous that could be.

“Who are you?” 

“I ain’t telling you shit, bitch.” he snapped at her as she rolled her eyes. 

“We gonna skip that part where you try to be all tough. There is nothing stopping Venom here from slashing your throat and trust me. That would most definitely be the high light of her day.” she warned him. “Actually, the highlight of her day would be torturing you until you speak.” she said matter of factly.

“Weak ass bitches, you don’t scare no body.” (Y/N) looked at Venom and smirked at him. 

“You take your time with him. Call me when he says something.”

- - - - - - - - - - - -

(Y/N) ran a face scan through the system, to find out that he use to work for Erik. Name was Claw. Nasty and just plain annoying. After stealing money from Erik and killing one of his close friends, he was never seen again. Erik and a lot of other lords

“So what is this surprise you got for me?” he asked him walking past her in her quarters where they did their interrogations. The entire time he was looking at her ass. They walked to the door as she turned around, 

“Look for yourself.” He walked in the room, looking in the glass window seeing him tied to a chair, as Venom continued cutting his fingers off his one hand, piece by piece. 

“Is that-”

“In the flesh. I caught him trying to sneak into my warehouse where I’m holding some of my weapons.” she said as he looked at her. 

“I hope it’s not the-”

“It’s not the Stark ones. Those are in Alaska. But I’m worried. Out of all my years of moving and supplying, I’ve never had someone successfully break into my warehouse. And I know the Mona Lisa’s aren’t slacking because they are highly trained. I sent over a hundred of them to Alaska to protect the gear.” she said biting her acrylic thumb in nervousness. “This idiot was dumb coming in here alone, but I know niggas. Niggas that are smarter, and I just have this deep feeling that someone is planning something to get at me.” she looked at Erik. He’s known her for years, she’s never really shown nervousness or being scared. He saw that she was genuinely scared. Some might say she was over thinking, but in her line of work you could  never over think.

“Aye calm down, I promise you I won’t let anyone get to you, ight. Even if it takes my last breath.” he reassured her. “Starting with this motherfucker. I’m killing his ass.” he said about to walk to the door to entre the room but she stopped him.

“Wait, lemme talk to him. I got a plan.” she walked into the room before walking over to her. 

“Alright, so I know who you are.” she said as he cursed. 

“You knew who I was this entire time and you’ve been letting this crazy bitch do this shit!” he yelled at her as (Y/N) laughed. 

“Man, calm down. I ain’t even that serious. Plus, it’s been a minute since Venom have had a little bit of fun. She deserves it.” (Y/N) smiled at Venom as Venom smirked at her. 

“Anyways, I know that you’re working with Erik. Or use to work with him. I sent a couple of my girls over there to do.. a lil bit of damage. Kill some of his goons, injure a couple more, but I’m keeping Erik alive.” he said as Claw shook his head. 

“Your dumb if you did that.”

“Well, you and I both know the success rate my girls have so...” she trailed off. 

“No, your dumb if you think that I still work for that bum ass nigga, or I’m trying to get in good terms with him. Fuck his bitch ass..” he said. She chuckled. 

“Well it make sense..  I mean, you were his close friend. Right hand man. Makes since you’d try to steal my shit. I did tell my girls to make sure that Erik know your alive.” she said as his face turned to complete fear. She tilted her head to the side pouting. 

“Tell me why you tried stealing my shit.”

“I-I was doing it to have so I could sell it.” he said as she rolled her eyes. That’s all she wanted to hear but she still wanted to fuck with him. 

“Bull shit. Tell the truth. Either way you’re going to die whether it’s by me or by him. Why?”

“I’m telling you. I only wanted to sell it. Everyone know your work is worth billions and I-I needed some quick cash. J-Just don’t tell him I’m alive.”

“Damn,,, for him to be a bum ass nigga, you a lil scared ain’t you,” she said tilting her head to the side. “Anyways he knows so..” she shrugged. 

“N-No he doesn’t. He would’ve been here by-” she looked towards the window than looked back at him. He got the hint. The door opened and Erik walked in, the vein in forehead popping out as his jaw clenched.

“So I’ma a bum ass nigga now?” he asked him, (Y/N) rolled her eyes. She knew his Ego was hurt. Erik looked at Venom, before smiling at her. 

“Thanks Sweetheart. Love what you did but I got it from here.” he winked at her as she smiled blushing. 

“No problem Erik.” she walked out as (Y/N) chuckled. 

Venom was dangerous, well that’s how she got her nickname. But deep down, she was a girl that blushed even at the smallest compliments. She was a sweetie, but if it came down to it, she didn’t hesitate to drop a body. And she did enjoy tourtuing somebody for her enjoyment.  

“Look Erik-”

“Don’t say my name. First of all, I’ma kill you for what you did to me. But- I’ma make sure that shit is slow. Especially coming up in here fucking with her. And about that one, I’ma make sure yo ass wish you were dead.”

“Well you have your fun, let me know when everything is done so I can have someone come clean up ya mess.” she placed a kiss on his cheek before walking out. 

She knew that Erik was gonna handle business for her, maybe he’ll get a lil something for it.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Here’s a lil fact about me, I’m obsessed with Erik and reader being lords or mob bosses or whatever you wanna call it. 

Taglist:

@sociallyawkward18 @raysunshine78 

@justgetitoverwith0 

[ptergwen]

only you and me

w/c: 6.7k

warnings: angst, mentions of weed, and some swearing

summary: whenever peter tries to tell you how he feels, harry gets in the way

a/n: ahhhh hi my loves! my mini writing break is over :,) life has been just a mess for me and i’ve been way more critical than usual about my work but i’m doing a little better and ready to get back into everything! this helped me a lot so i’m excited to share it with y’all <3 it’s also my first time writing harry osborn so lmk how i did lmaooofwfjj but yeah pls enjoy

-

“dude, she’s right there! just tell her!” ned whisper yells to peter, elbowing him for emphasis. they’re hidden behind a wall to watch you at your locker. you’re grabbing books while betty rants to you and mj rolls her eyes. “not now. she looks... busy,” peter gulps, gaze trailing down your body. he always finds excuses to put off telling you how he feels.

or rather, excuses find him. something comes up every time he gets the courage to do it. he has no idea why he’s so scared because he’s pretty sure you like him back. pretty sure. there are a few reasons why you might not. also, plenty why you might. you stay up late texting most nights, and you’ve even flirted a couple of times. it never fails to make peter blush. he trips over his words whenever he tries to flirt back.

he’s had feelings for you since the first time you two hung out alone. none of your other friends could make it, but you happily took him up on his offer to come over. you grinned through his whole apartment tour, asked about may and what she does. when peter showed you his room, you even complimented his movie posters, much to his surprise.

“really? you don’t think they’re, like, dorky?”

“no, peter. your interests aren’t dorky. everyone likes what they like.”

and, he liked you. he knew it from that point on. you’d know it too if the universe wouldn’t keep stopping him from saying that.

“she’s so...” peter pauses for a second. him and ned watch you pull betty in by her shoulders as if you’re going to kiss her. she dodges you, mj pushing her back, all three of you giggling about it before you grab betty’s hands and give her words of encouragement. “cool,” peter finishes, turning back to ned. “i mean, how she puts herself out there like that.”

“what’s stopping you from doing the same thing?” ned points out with a knowing smile that peter returns. you make it look so easy. whenever you’re comfortable around people, you can let go of any doubts you have. you stop worrying about what they might think and instead do what you want. it’s inspiring to peter, and heart warming getting to be one of the people you’re fully you with.

he wishes he could apply your wisdom himself.

peter shakes his head, staring down at the floor. “oh, you know. anxiety, fear of rejection. that fun stuff.” “so, yourself,” ned concludes, clapping peter’s backpack so hard it makes him stumble forward. betty and mj wave goodbye to you before heading to their first class. you’re still getting your things together at your locker. this is peter’s moment.

“come on, dude! y/n’s not busy anymore. you got this.” ned keeps his hand on peter’s back, adding on, “it’s been a year already.” “half a year,” peter corrects him in a mumble. he’s liked you for a really long time. “ok, i’m going. wish me luck.” he takes a deep breath and focuses in on you. “aw, dude. you don’t need it.” ned gives him one last pat on the back. “good luck, though.” “thanks, man. see you in trig.”

right as peter starts heading over, harry comes up behind you and covers your eyes. you squeal, jumping up and turning to him, laughing as you playfully hit at his chest. he brings you into a hug where your face is buried in his sweater and probably inhaling his super strong, super expensive cologne.

that’s what’s stopping peter, harry freaking osborn. his own friend.

peter quickly loses the tiny bit of confidence ned gave him. he figures it might be better to hold off on his confession and get an early start to class. unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen. harry has already spotted him and calls him over.

“hey, pete! come give us some love, eh?” harry beams, an arm slung around your shoulders and you smiling up at him. you direct your smile to peter when he slumps his way to your locker. his lips pull into a barely noticeable frown. you notice. “there’s my guy. why so down, sunshine?” harry offers his fist for a fist bump. peter gives it to him, eyes staying on you.

harry osborn. where to begin with such a specimen? he’s the perfect combination of everything you’d want in a guy. he gets good grades, he’s a star player on on the basketball team, nice to everyone and makes you laugh, popular yet fits right into your small group.

he was friends with you before the popular thing. what kicked it off was him making varsity basketball while only being a sophomore. yep, he’s unreal. since then, he’s been balancing his cool life and also hanging with “the nerds,” as he likes to call you. he got his own feelings for you along the way. peter can tell.

he’ll give you rides home, compliment how you look, basically act like your boyfriend without really being it. it absolutely infuriates peter because he doesn’t compare to harry in the slightest. if he were you and had the choice between himself or harry, he would pick harry.

it’s been a factor in why he hasn’t come clean about how he feels yet. he’s not trying to create a love triangle that he doesn’t stand a chance surviving in.

“for real, peter. you good?” you ask him, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “fine,” peter lies and musters up a smile. “i’m just tired. didn’t sleep too good last night.” you’re only more concerned now. this has been happening to him a lot lately. you search for his eyes. “again?”

“aw, man. you need something for it?” harry punches peter’s shoulder and lowers his voice. “i know this kid who-“ “harry, stop.” your words are serious, tone lighthearted. you throw your head back on his arm. “do you really know a kid?” “i’m not telling you,” he says in an overly happy voice, you humming the same way. peter feels like he’s third wheeling.

“i was telling pete.” harry looks at him expectantly, peter’s mouth dropping open while he thinks of what to say. harry likes to mess around. this is a different level, though. “no thanks. i- i shouldn’t. i’m-“ “relax, i don’t know a kid,” harry chuckles and points at peter. “your face right now.” it’s completely flushed. you knock into harry’s side.

“ok, well literally no one laughed. you’re scaring him,” you tell harry sternly. peter tugs tight on one of his backpack straps. he doesn’t feel like he’s third wheeling you two now. he feels like your kid. he’ll never let ned mettle in his love life ever again if this is where it gets him. “he knows i’m kidding, y/n/n. right?” harry checks with peter. you make a face at him that says you aren’t convinced.

he switches his arm from you to peter, drawing him into his side. “look, pete. i’m sorry. the only kid i know who’s selling is chocolates for his band trip.” you’re satisfied with that, grinning at both of them. peter forces a laugh and nods. “no worries, man. i gotta get to class.” “good boy,” harry lets him go. “bye, pete. we’ll see you at lunch,” you remind him. he gives you a tight lipped smile. “see you, y/n/n.”

you and harry continue practically spooning each other as soon as peter is out of sight.

what the hell is going on?

peter is back to being grumpy, plopping down in his seat next to ned. their teacher has the lesson plan pulled up on the smart board. ned looks from it to peter, almost jumping in his seat. “oh, you’re back already? how’d it go?” “it didn’t go,” peter huffs, copying down the aim. he’s only doing it so he doesn’t have to look ned in the eyes while telling him he bailed. again.

“you didn’t do it?” ned repeats, peter writing something about pi and a unit circle in his notebook. he bites the inside of his cheek. “you have to do it at some point,” ned sighs out and picks up his pencil. even he’s getting tired of this, and ned never gets tired of a good friends to lovers moment. “i think she likes harry,” peter says under his breath. “huh?” ned gasps.

peter doesn’t feel like explaining the extremely awkward moment he just finished living. although, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion. “y/n. he came over, and they kept hugging and whatever.” “they always do that,” ned almost scoffs, their trigonometry teacher moving to stand in front of the class. “yeah, but he had his arm around her the whole time we-“

the bell rings and cuts their conversation short. peter struggles to label the unit circle they learn about when his mind is filled to its capacity with images of you and harry all over each other. it’s not daydreaming. this is a nightmare. maybe, he actually will be having sleep problems.

peter’s morning is relatively decent after that. he gets to do an experiment with mj in chemistry, and she lets him take the lead for once. spanish is easy, health is okay, then he has a free period, then it’s lunch. things can only go downhill from here.

he thinks about hiding in the library until it’s over, but it’s the thought of harry eating your face that gets him to drag himself to the cafeteria.

flash is at the head of your table talking to harry when peter gets there. great, now he can’t eat his soggy chicken fingers in peace. “sounds dope. let’s go on the-“ flash stops saying what he was saying and nods at peter. “penis parker, you’re late.” peter takes his seat on your left, harry on your right. you glance over at him to make sure he’s okay. he acts like he doesn’t care, peeling open his milk carton.

“just text me later, man. get outta here,” harry dismisses flash, the two of them doing a bro handshake before he leaves. he’s well aware of his and peter’s history. he keeps them separate for the obvious reasons. peter appreciates it because saying no to flash is nearly impossible. he shouldn’t be so mad at harry, should he? he’s a good friend.

harry’s arm snakes around your waist and brings you closer to him. never mind.

“who’s up for sushi later?” he asks the table, everyone agreeing and saying how awesome that sounds. everyone except peter. you tap his shoulder with a small smile. “what about you, peter? you coming?” he realizes you’re all waiting for him to respond and puts down his milk. “uh, i can’t. homework,” he lamely answers.

“dude, we have homework, too. just do it a little later,” ned suggests, betty laying her head on his shoulder. you share a look with her, your eyes wide and a grin on your lips. that must have been what you were talking about this morning. she asked for boy advice. ned advice. why can’t this crap work out for peter?

“i really can’t. sorry, guys,” peter half heartedly apologizes.

he misses the disappointment that crosses your features because he’s pouting at his lunch again.

“homework, huh?” mj tests him, squinting as she takes a sip of apple juice. harry nudges peter’s side with two fingers. “you still mad about the sleeping thing?” “sleeping thing? what sleeping thing?” betty wonders while ned rests his head against hers. a quiet laugh slips out of you as you lean in to tell her.

“peter said he couldn’t sleep last night, so harry offered him...” you mime rolling a joint. “i said no,” peter clarifies, rolling his eyes at the inevitable teasing he’s about to get. none of you have even smoked besides harry. you’re being annoying about it. “of course you did,” mj sighs and kicks her feet up on the table. “unrelated to what y/n just said... harry, i have insomnia.”

everyone bursts into laughter at that, betty shoving her side and you pulling harry by his torso as he pretends to go into his backpack. peter wants nothing to do with any of this. he usually enjoys joking around with the group, even if it’s at his expense because it’s from a place of love.

today feels like you’re straight up making fun of him. harry might as well invite flash to join in.

“alright, alright, alright. enough of the weed talk,” harry decides, you removing your arms from him and grabbing your coffee. “you’re such a bad influence.” your voice drips with sarcasm. you bend the straw and take a sip while scooting closer to peter. “you really can’t come later? i feel like i’ve barely seen you today.” that’s on harry. “i wish i could, y/n/n,” peter exhales. “i’ll text you later, okay?”

you don’t get to answer because mj tugs on your arm, distracting you from peter. she explains how she has to do an art project on what it means to be a woman and needs help brainstorming ideas. you’re full of them, offering up an interesting perspective for her to use. peter smiles to himself as he listens in. you find a new way to impress him every day.

he should tell you that.

“hey, y/n?” “listen to her! you’re seriously my idol,” betty gushes, so loudly you don’t hear peter. not a single thing has gone in his favor at this table. he gives up.

peter locks himself in his room when he gets home from his overall terrible day. he does homework like he said he would, only taking a break for dinner, giving one word replies to may’s questions about school. he’d much rather be having sushi with you. he would’ve gone if the others didn’t.

after dinner, it’s back to grumbling and scribbling down answers. there’s a knock at peter’s door around ten o’clock, which he assumes is may saying goodnight. “i’ll be done in a few minutes, may! love you.” “it’s y/n,” you reply, the smile clear in your voice. his eyes go comically wide. that’s the last thing he expected to hear. “oh. uh, come in.”

you’re holding a small takeout bag, shutting the door behind you and walking over to his desk. you meet his twinkling eyes in the dim light that hits off his walls. from his open window, you faintly hear cars as they rush by and honk their horns in the distance, accompanied by a fresh breeze. it’s cozy, safe. it’s peter.

“hey. what’re you doing here?” peter questions, leaving his pencil in his binder and shutting it. you shake around the plastic bag. “i saved you a roll.” he bites back a smile, getting up from his chair. “may let me in. she was really chill about it,” you continue and hold out the sushi for him. “it’s a california roll. i wasn’t sure what you wanted, and everyone likes those.”

peter lets his smile spread out and takes the bag from you. “thanks, y/n/n. i was honestly hoping one of you would have leftovers.” you laugh softly, peter setting the bag down on his desk. he scratches the back of his neck. “did you guys have fun?” “yeah. i missed you, though.” you clasp your hands behind your back. “everyone did.”

“i feel bad i didn’t go. just... things felt off today,” peter admits the real reason he stayed home, you letting out a breath. “it was harry, wasn’t it? god, he was being so weird.” your arms drop back to your sides. “there’s a difference between playing around and actually upsetting people.” by people, you mean peter. no one else seemed too bothered by him. “i’m sorry, peter. i tried to make him stop.”

“no, you don’t have to apologize,” peter assures you sweetly, grabbing one of your hands. “it’s not your fault, okay? he probably didn’t realize what he was doing. the jokes landed.” he’s referring to ned, mj, and betty finding harry’s comments hilarious. you lace your fingers with peter’s and frown. “this isn’t like him. maybe he’s stressed about a game.” your gaze drifts off to the side, what you see getting you to perk up.

“is that new?” you ask peter, leading him by his hand over to a poster he put up recently. it’s for 13 going on 30. you showed it to him a couple of weeks ago, and he clearly liked it a lot. any movie that makes it to peter’s wall is a special one. “mhm. i got it literally right after you went home the night we watched,” he chuckles and looks over at you while you study the poster.

you turn to face peter again, keeping your hand tight in his. “were you gonna tell me something earlier? at lunch?” he’s confused for a second, then he remembers your ideas for mj’s art project. the fact that you cared enough to bring it up after all these hours makes his stomach do summersaults in the best way. he shrugs and gives you a smile.

“the stuff you were saying about femininity and how there are so many ways to define it,” peter starts, you grinning back at him, at how he took an interest in what you were saying. “you’re so smart, y/n. you make me wanna be better.” a light pink dusts his cheeks. “peter, you’re a feminist?” you coo, joking but genuinely wondering at the same time. he squeezes your hand. “duh.”

“i thought so,” you nod, taking in the rest of what he said. “you think i’m smart? i trust you because you’re way smarter.” peter pffts in response. “i’m only good at, like, physics. you’re good at things that really matter. smart in that way.” you’re feeling your own face get hot. you swing yours and peter’s hands back and forth. “why are you the nicest person ever?”

the answer to that, may, peeks her head into the room. “hey, kids. it’s getting late.” she notices your intertwined hands and shoots peter a smirk. “i thought you were a cool aunt,” he teases, you sadly letting go of him. “she is. thanks for having me over so late,” you tell may on your way to the door. “oh, stop it. you can come over any time.” she puts a hand on your arm. “thank you so much,” you murmur back.

you walk backwards to the doorway, may leaving you two to say your goodbyes. “wanna hang out only you and me? on friday maybe?” that should make up for everything earlier. “yeah, of course. friday is perfect,” peter agrees and bounces on his feet as excitement takes over him. “thanks again for the sushi.”

“no problem. goodnight.” it’s taking every last bit of power in you to not freak out. “night. text me when you get home.” he presses his tongue into his cheek. you slowly pull the door shut. “ok, i will. bye!” it closes, leaving peter skipping across his room to his bed on one side and you doing a little happy dance on the other.

the next day at school, everything is back to normal. honestly, better than normal. your hangout with peter is tomorrow, and he’s planning on telling he likes you then. he already talked it over with ned. he’s relieved it’s finally happening, especially since him and betty have their own thing. she’ll be taking up most of his free time from here.

your group is spending lunch outside today, lounging across a picnic table, surrounded by trees and the shining sun in a bright blue sky. mj sits on the table and has her feet on the bench, which would usually bug peter to no end. he doesn’t mind this time because it takes up enough room that harry has to sit with ned and betty instead of you. you lean into peter’s side and stab a piece of lettuce from your salad.

“it’s so nice out,” betty sighs, ripping off half her cookie and giving it to ned. “we should ditch.” “oh my god, you sound like harry,” you groan between bites of salad. peter lets out a breathy laugh, you looping your arm through his. he grins down at where you’re linked. harry crosses his own arms over his chest. “she wishes.” betty only nods because her mouth is full of m&m’s.

“nah, seriously. i’d take us out somewhere, but i have practice after school.” he speaks quieter than he normally does, less confident. your theory about him having basketball drama was right. “what did we tell you? talk about the sports shit with your sports friends,” mj complains, sitting back on her hands. she glances at harry over her shoulder and catches ned mouthing you can’t say that.

sitting criss cross, she spins around to face harry, unenthusiastically saying, “what i meant was, you sound upset. what’s wrong?” harry gets into it right away, like he’s been waiting for someone to ask. “coach says there might be a scout at the next game. it’s a really good opportunity even though i don’t have to worry about... college yet.” the word makes him cringe.

“oh, damn. that’s a big deal. scary,” mj snorts, turning back to you and peter. her behavior makes ned internally face palm. “that’s awesome, dude. you’re gonna play amazing like always.” he gives harry a high five, who smiles nervously in response. he’s never nervous. “thanks, bro. you guys wanna come and watch?” he’s never invited you to one of his games before either.

this isn’t a group of friends that likes to spend their weekends in bleachers while angry teens shout around them.

“definitely. we’ll be there to support you, harry,” betty answers for everyone, ned pecking her cheek in satisfaction. mj cusses to herself before replying. “if i absolutely must, sure.” only you and peter haven’t said anything yet. he’s been chewing his lower lip, and you your salad. harry looks between you two hopefully. it’s more so at you, which peter doesn’t like.

“y/n? pete? it would help a lot, i’m serious.” he taps his fingers on the table until one of you speaks up. you’re the one who does. “i’ll go. this is pretty huge, right? congrats.” you reach across the table and squeeze his shoulder while simultaneously tightening your arm around peter’s. he takes that as a cue. “i’ll go, too. happy for you, man.”

though peter isn’t currently in the best place with harry, he should show his support by showing up. it can’t be too bad since the rest of you will be there.

a loud, long chuckle leaves harry as he hops up from his bench and comes to yours and peter’s. he bends over and wraps both of you in a hug from behind at the same time. his arms are around each of your shoulders, holding you so close his cheeks are squished against either of your heads. you giggle at that, peter finding himself laughing along and reaching back to ruffle harry’s hair.

staying mad at him is one of the world’s greatest challenges.

“you’re saints, both of you. my angels.” he kisses the back of your head, then lays one right on peter’s cheek, leaving him blushing red and grinning. “what about the rest of us? i never go to shit like this,” mj huffs and seems genuinely offended. harry wiggles his eyebrows. “you want a kiss?” his offer gets her flustered, which she can’t manage to hide. that’s a first.

“shut up. i’m just saying... never mind.” mj glares at you and peter, ned and betty making kissing noises behind her. “someone change the subject.” peter steps in. “when’s the game, harry?” he asks, harry snapping and waving his finger. “tomorrow! cancel your plans, kiddos.” “like we had any,” betty retorts.

some of you did. that was going to be peter’s hangout with you.

ned smiles sympathetically at peter before betty is getting his attention. you‘re unfazed and rambling to harry how proud you are of him.

did last night mean nothing? was it an empty gesture? were you only doing it out of guilt? peter must have read your visit wrong. he’s been wrong the whole time he’s liked you. you don’t like him back, you pity him. harry is who you’re really interested in.

may always says he should trust his instincts.

peter pulls his arm from yours suddenly, swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. you’re taken back because it’s so out of no where. you stop talking to harry so you can figure out his deal. “where are you going?” “bell’s gonna ring,” peter mumbles and picks up his lunch tray. he heads to the garbage can without another word or goodbye to anyone.

“i’m gonna go check on him,” you tell harry, already getting up from the bench. “you do that,” he acknowledges and calls mj’s name again.

peter tosses his mostly untouched food in the trash, seeing you make your way over from the corner of his eye. he tries to speed walk inside so he doesn’t have to talk to you. you’re too quick, cornering him between the door and brick wall.

“we still have ten minutes,” you state, worry flashing across your face. he’s avoiding you. well, attempting to. “what’s wrong?” peter gulps before saying anything. “my next class is on the other side of the-“ “no,” you cut him off. “what’s really wrong?”

he doesn’t feel like having this discussion. it’s bad enough he came to the realization his feelings are one sided. must he break that down for you so soon?

you toy with your sleeve while you speak because peter doesn’t. “i thought you and harry were fine again. i mean, he kissed you.” peter clenches his jaw so hard he can imagine the sound of it cracking. “it’s not about harry.” “what, then? what the fuck happened?” your sleeves are now balled in your fists. you hate it when peter does this angsty routine.

he keeps his voice low and calm so he doesn’t come off as jealous or hurt. he’s both of those things. “the game is tomorrow. friday. when we were supposed to hang out.” you meet peter’s eyes with nothing but remorse in yours. “i... i forgot,” is all you have to say.

you feel awful. he’s had a tough couple of days, and you fell through on your promise to cheer him up.

“clearly,” peter remarks, voice sharp. the way you’re looking at him makes him think he won’t like what’s coming. “peter, we have to go,” you almost whine. “i’m really sorry, i am, but this is a big night for harry. he needs us there.” peter stays silent. you’re twisting the knife deeper into him with every word. “i wouldn’t be cancelling if this wasn’t important.”

now you’re cancelling?

you reach for peter’s hand, but he shoves it into his pocket. that stings for you and him. “please, peter. we’ll hang out at the game, i swear.” this is the last chance you’ve got, so you pile it on. “harry won’t even be there, technically. he’ll... he’ll be on the court.” peter hadn’t thought about that. he lets himself unclench, starting to see the appeal. you add one more thing to lighten the mood and persuade him.

“i’ll buy you popcorn, all you can eat.” it’s that easy. cracking a smile, peter accepts. he’ll deal with his unresolved, unreciprocated feelings after he stuffs his face, courtesy of you. “you better. i’m gonna need it for this long ass game.” your face lights up, grabbing his wrist in both hands.

“so, you’ll come?” “i’ll be there,” he confirms. you throw your arms around his neck. he laughs into the hug and holds you by your middle. “i promise this’ll be the first and last game we ever go to,” you say and mean it. harry is lucky you’re even suffering through this a first time. “thank god,” peter exhales, resting his chin on your head.

that interaction leaves peter confused as hell. you’re crushing his mind and soul one minute, then hugging him the next. you were making him feel so special lasts night, and treating harry the same way today. it’s so jumbled that he isn’t sure if he’s in the friend zone or something more zone.

there are a ton of mixed signals coming his way, and he sucks at reading people as is.

he can’t take another second of this. he’d rather you come out and say you like harry already because it’s torture. knowing you don’t want him in that way would at least eliminate the possibility of anything happening between you two, and allow him to stop driving himself insane.

he’d be able to stop taking it out on harry, too.

the hold you have on peter, that you’re oblivious to, rules his every thought and decision. he’s constantly analyzing what you say to him, debating whether or not your affection is simply platonic. it’s been half a year of this madness, the night of harry’s game blurring every line so much more.

your group arrives a bit early to find seats and hype harry up before he plays. peter gets there after all of you because he’s not exactly in a rush to watch sweaty guys be aggressive. there’s only one upside, which is spending the night with you... and everyone else.

he steps into the gym that’s filling up fast with family members, friends, and the college scout harry was talking about. midtown has a different feeling to it at night. the smell of pencils is oddly stronger, and it’s a lot less intimidating.

cheerleaders are huddled in a circle while the team supervisor has them run their chants. the “leading official,” who peter thought was called a referee, takes his place off to the side. coaches give their players last minute instructions, players fool around with each other, a lot is going on.

peter scans the room for you, and grins a toothy grin when you catch his eyes. you’re sitting by yourself in one of the middle bleachers, only a bag of skinny pop in your lap. you return the smile once you spot him and wave him over.

“i don’t know why, but i thought they’d have an actual concession stand,” you explain the lack of fresh, buttery popcorn as peter takes a seat next to you. he catches the prepackaged bag you toss him. “it’s just a snack table.” “works either way,” peter hums and pokes the bag. “i’m not sure skinny pop is all i can eat, though.” “it’s good!” you defend the snack you chose for him.

“i’m kidding! you’re right, it’s kind of addicting.” he puts it by his feet for now and gives you a half smile. “you’re welcome,” you deadpan in a playful tone. “thanks.” he narrows his eyes. “where’s everyone else?” “right,” you twist around and gesture to the bleacher above you. mj is gloomily seated near the back. ned and betty are a few behind you.

“i told them to find their own seats so we can sit together, alone.” you look over at peter and move ever so slightly closer. “welcome to our friday hangout. just the two of us.” “aw, you didn’t have to do that,” peter laughs out, his knee bumping yours. “but, i’m happy you did.” he goes to put an arm around you, then harry comes racing up the stairs.

just the two of you didn’t last so long.

“y/n, i’m freaking out,” harry announces, zooming through your row to get over to you. he stops once he’s standing in front of peter and shakes him by his shoulder. “hey, pete. you made it.” “yup,” peter replies, pressing his lips together. you wince at his reaction, then quirk an eyebrow at harry. “you’re freaking out? why?”

harry sits down between you and peter, blissfully unaware of the moment he interrupted.

“i found the scout. he’s fucking terrifying as fuck. this super ripped guy, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else,” he talks quietly, like the man will hear him. “he’s not the only one,” peter says to himself, kicking around his bag of popcorn to pass time. you ignore him and grimace.

“shit. wait, how do you know it’s him? did they tell you?” you’re not sure how these things go. harry casually shrugs a shoulder. “dude has a clipboard. seems legit to me.” he gives you a cocky smile. “he’s also in the row before mj. that’s how i noticed. um...” his back now facing peter, he whispers something in your ear that makes you giggle.

peter’s face scrunches up as the spark of anger the past few days have lit reignites itself.

when harry pulls away, you motion for him to come closer with your index finger, cupping your hand around his ear and speaking into it.

nope, no more. peter is entirely about to explode. you cancelled your plans so you can force him to watch basketball, you sweet talk him so he’ll let it go, and you’re running right back to harry after all of that? what the hell does that mean?

peter stands up from his seat. “y/n, we need to talk,” he demands, you moving away from harry to respond. “ok, gimme a minute. we’re-“ “no, we need to talk now.” you don’t have time to refute because he’s taking your arm and dragging you away. harry squints at you in utter confusion.

“um, have a good game! we’ll talk later,” you call back to him, walking with peter even though you have no idea what his issue is and aren’t a fan of how he’s acting.

he releases you once you’re in the hallway. you make a point of harshly yanking your arm back, a scowl painting your lips. “jesus, peter. i was having a conversation.” “do you like harry?” peter blurts out. you’re so shocked at his abruptness that you don’t give him much to work with, only, “what?” “do you like harry?” he asks you again, this time less accusing and more curious.

“do i like...” you’re too aware of the seemingly hundreds of people surrounding you to answer comfortably. “can we talk about this somewhere else?” “sure,” peter nods, letting you lead the way since he did to get out here. you two go down the hall and choose the first room you see, which happens to be the custodian’s closet. it’s thankfully unlocked.

things were tense between you and peter on the way over, and it’s physically mirrored when you step into the room, air thick and smelling of lemon cleaning supplies. you tug on the string hanging down to turn on the light. it casts a faded glow, leaving you in mostly darkness. you sort of like it. this feels more intimate, which is fitting for what you’re both about to say.

neither one of you knows where to begin. peter’s question is ringing in the back of your mind, and you could touch on that, but there’s more to it than a simple yes or no. you don’t have to worry about it because peter gets his words out first.

“i think harry likes you, and i think you like him back,” peter restarts, already sounding deflated by what he came up with. “he doesn’t, and i don’t.” you take a step towards him. “he likes mj.” it’s peter’s turn to be shocked. the hint of a smile sets on your lips. “that’s what we were talking about. harry asked if he should take her to dinner after the game, and i said yes.”

this is going better than he expected.

“mj is the one who likes him, not me,” you reiterate and watch some life enter peter again, a tiny bit. he’s coming around, and he wants to believe you. his trust issues don’t. “but, you’re so... touchy with each other. the hugging the other day?” he mentions. you tilt your head to the side in amusement. “friends can’t hug?”

to be fair, you hugged peter yesterday. that’s a point rightfully shut down.

“he calls you pretty,” peter tries, raising both eyebrows. you have to laugh at this one. “you call may pretty.”

obviously, peter’s analysis skills could use some serious improvements. it sounds like he had the right idea, wrong person. your relationship with harry is platonic. hell, he’s crushing on a whole different person. this actually opens up the possibility of you liking peter in the romantic way, of him being in the something more zone. he had it backwards.

in case peter isn’t convinced yet, and because you really want to, you use one more trick to prove to him you don’t like harry.

“do me and harry do this?” your lips speak for you, colliding with peter’s unexpectedly yet easily. he feels like he’s floating, like he’s in some sort of magical wonderland until it hits him that this is real, and he should probably kiss you back. he does so softly and tangles his fingers in your locks. his hand supports the back of your head as the kiss goes on.

you push forward so your bodies are almost fused together, the closest you can be while you hold his jaw. peter breaks the kiss for a short breather, going back in without more than a moment passing. this one is feverish, his free arm looping around your lower back, hand resting on the small of it. you let out a giggle against his swollen lips and stroke your thumb over his jawline.

he’s been waiting to do this for the longest time, but he doesn’t have to tell you that. it shows in how eager he was to reciprocate, his shyness blossoming into passion. you feel yourself melting under his touch, the kiss eventually becoming a series of short pecks. peter gives you the final one. his pink lips form a grin when you pull apart. your hands stay on each other, not in a rush to go anywhere.

“woah, i like you so much,” peter laughs out. the words roll off his tongue naturally. “you know i like you,” you drawl, smiling at him, a full body smile while you caress his skin. he winds both arms around you and dips his head down to steal another kiss. you’re loving what’s happening. however, you don’t feel like making out while dirty brooms stare at you. you should take this back home.

“wanna get out of here? i do,” you suggest, voice muffled from his lips. they detach from yours and brush your cheek gently. peter makes a funny face. “hm, i thought we had to come. harry needs us,” he says what you did yesterday, earning a groan back. “you’re joking.” “i’m not. what kind of friends would we be, ditching him like that?”

he’s going to end you one day.

“yeah, no. i have no idea how basketball works, and i’d like to keep it that way,” peter drops the act, pressing his fingers into your sides. “i’ve been so mean to harry. i was...” “a dick?” you finish for him. it’s more of a statement than a question. to soften the blow, you rub his cheek with the tips of your fingers. “yup. he’s gonna think i hate him or something if we don’t stay.” his formerly smiley face is frowning.

“harry of all people will understand after we tell him our reasons,” you reassure him, nudging under his chin with your nose. “besides, he has other things to worry about. mj, the scout. it’s fine.” peter considers it, ultimately giving in to you like he always does, resting his forehead on yours. “i guess so. less distractions for him, yeah.” “exactly. that’s what i wanna hear.”

having his approval, you unwind yourself from him and head to the door. his fingers wrap around your wrist gently. “what about my popcorn?” a giggle escapes your lips. “you’re still on that?” “you said all i can eat!” his voice comes out high pitched, adorably high pitched.

“fine. i might have those bags you put in the microwave.” you smile when his fingers lock with yours, peter kissing the side of your head.

“even better. let’s go home.”

[taechaos]

Can we have some jealous/sweet smut with textbook love couple?🥲 like I guess OC was wearing an outfit that was a little short and some guy was checking her out and trying to get at her but she didn’t even realize it and Jungkook gets mad and you know😏

this really went off the fucking rails 😷

"I don't see the point in you coming, we just go there to get high."

"Maybe she wants to try it," Taehyung shrugs before looking up from his phone with a mischievous grin. "What if she's secretly a freak–"

"I'm not, I just–" you sigh, reluctant to reveal your intentions behind wanting to tag along with Jungkook to a frat party. His reason is clear: his body is craving another drug trip. Yours is unknown to them, and you purse your lips where you stand uncomfortably in the student lounge. Why would such a motivated student go out on a school night to get influenced? Oh, no reason, just want to damage my organs because YOLO, right? "I want to spend time with you," you simply reason to your unwilling boyfriend.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, an indication of an incoming refusal, "It's a crackhouse with live softcore porn, and I know for a fact you'd hate it there. Remember last time?"

The issue is that you do remember last time, and also the time that you weren't there. Much like a fairytale, it ended happily both times, but the beginnings were rocky—and you didn't want to miss out on that chapter before jumping to the end. It ruins the tale.

"It's okay sugar tits, I give you permission," Taehyung says while playing a mobile game with his tongue sticking out, unaware of the stares he's getting in response.

"The fuck did you just call her?"

"I'm not asking for permission," you roll your eyes and put your hands on your hips to assert the tiniest bit of dominance on Jungkook who you hover over. The two men are relaxed in their seats while you're tense from knowing you're going to have to rebel against Jungkook. He isn't going to give in. "I will come."

"No, no you won't," is his plain and casual command. You send him a subtle glare but he merely raises a brow, as if challenging you to retaliate.

"You're not her dad, dude. If she wants to come, she will," his friend chimes in defensively.

"Thank you," you point at him with wide eyes.

"First of all, you're not even a part of this conversation," he tells Taehyung. "Secondly, I'm looking out for you as your boyfriend," he gives you a pointed look. "Thirdly, not her dad? Wouldn't you beg to differ." The suggestive hint makes your face flush in embarrassment, and his wink worsens it.

"Excuse–"

"You told me not to tell him!" The discussion ends when you march out of the lounge to cool off your heated skin along with your high nerves. This relationship did begin when you didn't take no for an answer, so what's the harm in doing it again?

—————

The night you lost your virginity, it was autumn and easy to figure out what to wear for a party: warm and cozy with some charming color. It's spring now, and a little more difficult to decide on what to wear without looking like a "high school girl" as Jungkook often describes your outfits.

Your roommate is more cultured in that field, and was kind enough to lend you her help.

Soyeon racks her eyes over your closet with a hand over her chin, elbow crossing her stomach as leverage for her other arm. Nothing is exactly screaming out sexy to her, and unless it's a cosplay gathering, your wardrobe needs more diversity; dressing shirts, skater skirts and knee highs are out of the question.

You wait to hear her thoughts while shifting in your seat on your bed until she quietly giggles. "And I thought I was conservative." She cranes her neck to you, not moving from her position depending on your answer, "Do you want to borrow my clothes instead? They're more... suitable?"

You nod. "Sure. I mean— if you don't mind."

You trust your friend to take care of the clothing portion, and it's with a few cringing "ehhh"s and "mmm"s that you are satisfied with the outcome of this minor quest.

A thin black turtleneck with unnecessarily long sleeves cover your knuckles like sweater paws, and the fabric hugs your torso tightly but ends just below your belly button. Soyeon found a solution to your discomfort with the slight exposure of your stomach by matching it with high waisted denim shorts and nude pantyhose. It's chilly at night, so it's the perfect outfit: doesn't stand out and fits in just right. You don't look like a high school girl nor a nun.

You kept your only concern to yourself because it's not much of a big deal, but it bothers you that the denim shorts don't reach your knees. By your standards, it's a little... inappropriate, but your roommate assures you that it's a common choice in this occasion. You let it slide.

—————

Your worries of being too early faded the moment you stood before the frat house that boomed with music and flashed with violet. You don't know the time code for parties, but you must be late considering the crowd inside. People are chattering loudly when you squirm past them, but there's enough space in the living room for you to breathe. No softcore porn or crack yet. Not many are dancing either. It seems all good here.

However, the search must go on because Jungkook is nowhere to be found in the living room. You hear deep howls from the kitchen and it piques your attention, prompting you to look there next. You can only hope Jungkook's not high yet, or has a girl on his lap.

When you walk in, the kitchen that is remarkably smaller than the living room is filled with men taking shots from the center counter, and Jungkook leaning against the other counter surrounding the walls with a joint in his hand. You stand still in the doorway, suddenly nervous of his reaction, but relieved that he's alone nonetheless.

He inhales a deep breath and the small smile on his face falters when his redshot eyes drag themselves onto you. He stands straight once you lock gazes, and you grin at him before he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw. You unconfidently strut over to him, reaching his side in only a few seconds as he glares at you.

Only a syllable comes out of his mouth before his attention diverts from you to another guy nearby in a flash. "Hey, eyes off," he calmly demands the man behind you. You glance at him when he raises his hands before looking elsewhere. You presume that's sign language for backing off, and your shoulder blades move awkwardly at the guess of what he might've been looking at. "What the hell are you doing here?" he brings your focus back onto him.

"I wanted to check up on you," you lean into him to not yell out your words.

"Check up on me?" He's incredulous. "Do you realize where you are? You shouldn't be here."

The moment is interrupted when Namjoon and Taehyung enter the scene, and you stop gnawing on your inner cheek. You don't have any answers you want to tell him, and your muscles relax when Jungkook's friends notice you.

"Oh shit," Taehyung smiles widely, "you're actually here." He appears to be sober and you smile back at him. Namjoon on the other hand, is as high as a kite as he brings you into a light hug. Your eyes widen and you awkwardly pat his back, fixated on his dazed expression.

"I haven't seen you in so long," he says as he ruffles your hair. Jungkook slaps a hand over his face at the interaction and drags the skin with his fingers. "How have you been? Do you want a molly?"

"Dude," your boyfriend intervenes, annoyed. "Why are you back here?"

"Alcohol." Namjoon disappears behind you to search the fridge and cabinets and you look at Taehyung again. He's drinking in your awkward stance as he licks his lips while Jungkook takes another drag from his joint.

"Girl, you are fucked," he says when his eyes trail back to yours with a snort. "You came here in those clothes, when you have a boyfriend? Jungkookie, I have some bad news for you. Your cock isn't even satisfactor–"

"Seriously though," Jungkook tells you with furrowed brows, "why are you here? I told you not to come." His reaction is influenced by the weed, not so mad as he is confused by your rebellion without reason—you must have a cause for waltzing in here, especially after his warning.

You hum in discomfort and shift your weight onto your other foot. "I already told you..."

"Don't give me that bullshit–"

A yelp cuts off his words when you jolt forward from a slap to your bottom. It wasn't a hard hit, but the surprise factor has you throwing yourself on Jungkook. Taehyung's jaw drops while your boyfriend barely reacts.

"If that isn't the cutest ass I've ever seen," the culprit chuckles without taking his eyes off your butt. He's almost slurring his words, and his lopsided grin doesn't seem intentional; he must feel too numb to form a full smile. You watch him in disbelief much like Taehyung. "You got any coke?"

"She's taken, man–" he takes on the peacemaker role, but it's futile when Jungkook gently removes your arm from his chest and walks forward to the stumbling man.

"Oh, my ba–" his face scrunches in confusion when his cheeks are grabbed and squished, leaving his mouth gaping. You peek from above Jungkook's shoulder to see him raising his joint before stubbing the burning tip onto the man's tongue. A scream resounds in the overcrowded room when it makes contact, and you fall back into Taehyung's arms while the deafeningly loud music tries to drown out the pained sounds. It's barbaric.

"Ah, shit," he pushes you to the side and pulls back Jungkook, who's still abnormally calm. The whole situation feels surreal, and it seems as if no one realizes this isn't a dream.

The man stops struggling against Jungkook's hold when he's released and falls to the ground, crawling back while sucking his teeth. He's whimpering and afraid. "I didn't know," he speaks with a lisp, pathetically begging, "I apologized! I-I'm sorry!"

You cautiously take a few steps back, almost like you're trying to flee the scene, but it just seems like a good idea to avoid Jungkook's temper right now. Just as you're about to turn around and sprint, you're held back by a hand on your shoulder. No words are exchanged when you're dragged away, a bruising grip on your forearm as you stumble out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Some fucking deja vu, huh?" your boyfriend fumes, basically shouting out his words without glancing at you to notice your struggles to keep up with his pace.

Lunatic Jungkook: Unlocked.

You trust sober Jungkook to not hurt you when he's angry, but after seeing him commit such a painful act, it's more than reasonable why you're currently terrified of him while he's high. To think you were so comfortable with him earlier because he's high. His calmness makes him all the more unpredictable, and you're unnerved when he shoves you inside a random bedroom. Some reversed deja vu.

"I'm going to ask you again: why the fuck did you come here?" The only attack is with his eyes that send daggers at you, but you keep your guard up in fear of what he'll do. You have to tread lightly.

"I was worried what would happen if I wasn't here with you." Honesty is your only approach in this instance because when he's glaring at you like that, it conveys that he doesn't want to hear any more of your ludicrous excuses.

He rolls his hand, gesturing you to continue. You're nervously forcing out your words, "I didn't, um... know how you would act around other women while you're on drugs when I'm not around." When his face falls into monotone, you defend yourself, still tense, "Last time, you kissed Soyeon and before that, another girl! I-I had my reasons..." Your voice grows smaller, just like how you feel under his gaze. Your eyes flicker to your shoes.

"And those shorts?"

At your silence, he takes a few steps towards you and leans into your face, slightly bending to level with your height. He tugs on the hem of your shorts harshly, emitting a flinch from you. You don't return his stare. "What the fuck are these? You're stupid enough to come here, but coming here in these shorts? Are you okay?" He taps your cheek, encouraging you to look up at him, but it's both humiliating and intimidating. "I know you're not a slut, baby, but why are you so adamant on acting like one?"

"I wanted to fit in," is your weak defence in a mumble, gaze still downcast. You shouldn't feel so ashamed.

"No, you told me you wanted to make sure I wasn't cheating," he counters. "Don't fucking twist things now. You didn't need to dress up to see if I was fucking someone else."

Your round eyes shoot up in panic at whatever he's insinuating, "I didn't want you to realize how paranoid I was."

"So this was your grand idea?"

"Ah," you groan, just wanting this argument to end already. You know what he's thinking: "I was stupid. I didn't learn my lesson, and I ended up hurting someone because I'm stupid."

You release a relieved breath when he gives you distance to sit on the twin sized bed. He's facing you as he says, "When I tell you not to do something, you don't do it. I'm not trying to dictate you, you understand that, right?" You meekly nod and clamp your mouth shut when he continues, "You pull this shit again, I'm going to hurt someone else again. Simple as that. I don't care if they did anything, I'll hurt them as long as it gets you to listen to me."

"Okay," you exhale, shyly walking between his legs at his beckon. You tower him, but it's not helping your confidence as he places his hands on your hips.

"Okay," he whispers back as he plays with the waistline of your shorts. A moment of silence passes, and you allow yourself to calm down enough to sit on his lap and lay your head on his shoulder. "I like the high school girl look better on you."

You sheepishly grin but decide not to respond for the safety of your friend. He pulls on your pantyhose and it slaps against your thigh when he releases it.

"Do you forgive me?"

"Can't stay mad at you," he murmurs before pecking your lips. It's you who leans back in to extend the kiss, and he responds gently. It ends when he chuckles, "Passive smoking, hm? You feeling okay?"

You nod and lock lips again, his hand soothingly rubbing the side of your thigh when you clasp your hands behind his neck. Maybe he's right, maybe you did get a buzz from the secondhand exposure, but it doesn't influence your actions as you lower one hand to his chest. It just happens to fall on his crotch.

"Mm," he pulls away with a suppressed laugh, "you're actually high? Your hands just got a mind of their own."

"Then tie them," you offer in a breath. His brows shoot up, but his surprise doesn't prevent him from unbuckling his belt singlehandedly.

"A bondage kink? Who are you and what did you do to my nerdy girlfriend?" His joke emits a small laugh from you but his smile falters once his belt is in his hand. "Take your shirt off first."

It's no longer a guess when you slip out of the turtleneck in a flash; you are under some spell when you stand and hold your wrists together. The leather grazes your skin and sends delighted tingles down your spine.

"I hope I'm not going fucking crazy and hallucinating this," you hear him whisper behind you. A laugh escapes you and interrupts his internal monologue, and the buckle is clasped. "Now for the shorts..."

He stands up, pressing himself against you and peeking from your shoulder to undo the button of your denim shorts. You can feel his erection grinding against you when he tugs them down to falll at your ankles. You step out of the garment and turn around. When he gets out of your way, he gestures you to lie down and your hands are pressing against your back when you do so.

You watch him take his short off before straddling you and leaning down for another kiss. It's merely foreplay; he cups your clothed pussy and runs his hand down up and down, prompting you to sigh into him. He bites your bottom lip just as he slips his fingers past your underwear, murmuring against your lips, "Can you take me right now?"

"I think so," you shy. "I want to."

"Good," he sighs and removes his hand to massage his erection while undressing you completely. "I think... this is a better lesson."

"For what?"

"You don't know?" he pushes the cup of your bra to pinch your nipple mercilessly, and he hears your pain through your small scream. "A guy got burnt for no reason then?"

"No, no, I know," you gasp when he twists your sensitive nub, "because I'm stupid and I shouldn't have ignored you." Your back lifts off the mattress when you clench your teeth to suppress another scream. Despite your bounds hands, it's him talking down on you that renders you submissive.

"Mhm," he's condescending in his speech, "he did something wrong, but so did you, right? This is just the consequences of your actions, isn't it?"

It's his stinging touch that makes you agree to whatever he says, and you whine, "Yes!"

That's the only confirmation he needs to push his jeans down to his thighs along with his briefs, and your now bare pussy shies away from his cock by bending your knees. He pushes your legs even closer to you, and your efforts went against your intention by exposing yourself to him completely now. "You're so pretty," he admires with slight awe, "but I can't be shallow... You don't deserve to treated well."

His words make you shutter; you didn't do anything that wrong, but you aren't courageous enough to voice your thoughts. Everything he's told you today have turned out right, so he knows better to make that call. You stay unresponsive, head turned to the side to avoid his fierce gaze.

"No, you should hurt as much as he did," he mutters to himself as he trails a finger down your folds. You shiver and his gaze travels to your shy one. "What? Are you scared?"

You are unconfident with your denial, "No."

"Look at me then."

It's with a deep inhale that you glance at him, and your breath is caught in your throat when he shoves himself inside. Your whimpers resound brokenly in the bedroom where the bass of the music drowns it out. You feel the vibrations, but it doesn't serve as a distraction and you're aware that Jungkook can pick up your pained noises. He's simply ignoring you, but you can't dwell on the thought when he lets you adjust for a few seconds only before ramming into you. Your whines aren't enough for him, after all, what's a better indication of pain than a scream of agony?

His thrusts are out of rhythm, but quick and rough nonetheless as his hands push you deeper into the mattress as if to hold you down before taking your nipple in his mouth—more specifically between his teeth to bite.

"Jungkook!" It's not a gentle bite, and you know it wasn't meant to be, but you try to squirm away nonetheless. Your flight instinct is futile because his strength overpowers yours, keeping you in place with his palms while you struggle and cry.

"No more, please!" You wail when he finally sits up, and he watches you bounce back and forth due to the force of his thrusts. It's so pleasing, especially your moans, but mixed with your bitching... it's irritating.

He grunts, the sound bordering on a growl before he says, "You deserve worse."

"I don't! I didn't do anything." Your protests fall on deaf ears, or rather ears that need you to shut up. He wraps his hand around your neck in a chokehold, daring you to speak with his grip as he moans through a bit lip.

"Your ass was hanging out in a room filled with men," he speaks in between moans while you gasp to catch your breath, sounds of pleasure getting suck in your throat when he slams deep enough to hit your sensitive spot. "You didn't listen to me! Ah..."

Your windpipe is getting crushed the tighter his grip gets, and your cheeks start to flush until he drops his hand to lift your hips, spanking you while you wheeze. "You want attention that bad?" His words are mere gasps when he starts to lose himself, now gripping your waist to match his thrusts for you.

"Only yours," you muster out as your eyes roll to the back of your skull, letting him do all the work while you get closer to your climax.

"Lying whore." He slaps your tit before completely concentrating on his release, inching closer and closer by the second teasingly. It builds up in his stomach, and his abs contract and tense while he pistons his cock inside you faster, not drained enough to get sloppy just yet. It's when a loud moan resounds in the room, reducing to pants with slow drags of his length. "God, yes..."

You feel it when he cums, painting your walls white and warming up your insides, and he rubs your clit so fast that it has you seeing stars in mere seconds. It's so quick, the high, and your moan is music to his ears; he's too spent to enjoy it any longer before he collapses next to you.

"Fuck, please let me tie you up again," he breathes while you recover from the euphoric sensation he brought you by twitching and seeing white. You're panting when his hand falls on your stomach.

"Please... I'll be nicer if you let me. Hm?"

[the-broken-truth]

The Language of Flowers - Donna Beneviento x Female Reader

Request Made By @p-jtarts

P.S.: THANKS FOR BEING MY FIRST ONE-SHOT ASK!

Summary: Donna would watch the Gardener every day since the first time she came to House Beneviento for work. Donna would sit on the porch and watch her, her affection for her growing by the day but could never make a move because she was so shy. What happens when something happens that makes Donna speak to her?

- Quick Key -

[Y/N] - YOUR FIRST NAME

[L/N] - YOUR LAST/SURNAME/FAMILY NAME

[H/C] - HAIR COLOR

[H/L] - HAIR LENGTH

[E/C] - EYE COLOR

[S/C] - SKIN COLOR

Donna would watch her from her pouch every morning when she went to water the flowers and every afternoon when she would sit in the garden to talk to the flowers - Donna would watch her every hour of every day if she could but she still had a family back home and would leave House Beneviento at the end of the day to return to them.

Just who was she? She was [Y/N] [L/N] - Eldest of the [L/N] Family and the new gardener of House Beneviento; she was a fair maiden with [H/L] [H/C], [E/C] eyes, and [S/C] skin. Donna remembered the day she first met her: Donna was in town when she noticed a woman with a vase of beautiful flowers and had Angie asked where the woman received them - out of fear, the woman told her about the [L/N] Family Flower Shop before running for her life. Donna watched the woman for a while before she headed in the direction she was told and that's when she saw her.

The most lovely of maidens aiding another customer with a smile on her face that seemed the shine like the full moon on a cloudless night. Donna was stunned by her that she didn't notice she walked closer to her until she heard a voice smoother than silk and sweeter than honey.

"Ma'am? Is there something I can do for you?" The maiden asked.

Donna was silent - was it from embarrassment or was she still stunned by the maiden.

"Hello." The doll called from the veiled woman's shoulder. "My name is Angie and this is Donna; she doesn't speak much." the doll explained.

"Oh, well it's pleased to meet you, Ms. Angie and Ms. Donna. Welcome to the [L/N] Flower Shop. What can I do for you?" The maiden asked with a smile.

"We need some flowers for our garden - what do you recommend?" Angie asked.

"Where do you live, if you don't mind me asking?" The maiden asked.

"We hail from House Beneviento in the Valley of Mist." Angie said.

"I don't know much of House Beneviento but I do know about the Valley of Mist - A Place shrouded in mystery and uncertainty." The maiden said.

"We saw a woman carrying a vase of roses - do you have any of those?" Angie asked.

"It's funny you say that - I was going to recommend Blue and White Roses for your garden." The maiden smiled.

"Why Blue and White instead of red?" Angie asked.

"Each flower has a different meaning just as a color has a different meaning: Blue Roses are a symbol for Mystery but they are also used to represent attaining the impossible & love at first sight." The maiden smiled.

"And the white roses?" Angie asked.

"In this case - The white rose would stand for Silence as the Valley of Mist is known as a deadly quiet place but they can also mean innocence, wistfulness, virtue, purity, secrecy, reverence, and humility." The maiden finished. The doll was silenced for a moment before she spoke again.

"You know a lot about flowers, don't you?" Angie asked.

"I do indeed, Ms. Angie. I've been known to speak the Language of Flowers." The maiden nodded with a smile.

"The Language of Flowers?" Angie asked.

"That's just a joke my father would tell me - he said I would spend more time talking to the flowers than to actual people but...I feel like the flowers understand me better than other people do." The maiden explained.

"May I ask a question?" Angie asked.

'What is Angie doing?' Donna wondered in her mind.

"I'll answer as best I can." The maiden smiled.

"Would you like to work at House Beneviento as the Gardener? We would pay you 2000 Lei every week." That offer made the Maiden's eyes widen (And Donna's too but you couldn't see them from the veil). 2000 Lei a week? that would be perfect - with her sales, as popular as the shop was - she was only getting around 800 a week. This money could really help her family.

"I would love this opportunity, Ms. Angie! Thank you!" The maiden bowed.

"Don't thank me - it was Donna's Idea; I just did the talking. By the way, what name do you go by?" Angie asked.

"Oh, My name is [Y/N]."

"Y/N..." Angie and [Y/N] looked at Donna; that was the first thing she said. "A very beautiful name."

"So is yours, Lady Donna Beneviento."

That was what lead them here - Donna was standing with Angie on her pouch as the two of them watch [Y/N] talking to the flowers in the garden as she pulled the tiny weeds that attempted the grow.

"You should talk to her, you know you want to." Angie whispered to Donna.

"I know I want to...I just can't." Donna whispered back.

"What's stopping you?" Angie asked, "She's been working here for a full month and you never talk to her; she was actually wondering if you disliked her, considering the way you just stand and stare at her without saying anything." Angie said.

"It's just...it's hard to find the words to say to her - her eyes are like endless pools of priceless gems when I look into them and I lose all the words I had in my head; I just want the chance to have something to talk to her about." Donna said.

"Well, you're gonna get your chance sooner than you think." Angie said.

"What makes you say that?" Donna asked.

"Because it's about to start raining." Angie said with a smirk - if she could smirk.

Sure enough - a sudden heavy rain came from nowhere and drenched [Y/N] who shrieked at the sudden downpour and used her arms to cover her head out of instinct. Donna's body moved too, she ran into the rain and grabbed the gardener by her wrist before pulling her to her feet and running back to the safety of the pouch.

"Whoa, that was sudden. Thank you, Lady Beneviento." [Y/N] said as she bowed to the second lord.

"It's alright." Donna spoke softly, "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yes, My Lady. I shall be a-a-ACHOO!" [Y/N] covered her nose just in time to keep the sneeze from hitting Donna or Angie.

"My, that sounds that a bad sneeze." Angie giggled.

"I underestimated just how dedicated the Earth is to watering its plants." [Y/N] chuckled to herself before placing her face in her elbow when she felt another sneeze coming on.

"You'll catch a cold in those wet garments. Come, I shall get you warm." Donna said as she held out her hand for [Y/N] to take - the young girl looked up at the lord with a blush creeping across her face before taking Donna's hand and allowing her to lead her into House Beneviento.

[A Few Moments Later]

[Y/N walked down the stairs in the white nightgown Donna allowed her to use while her clothes we soaked to the bone; judging from the sound of the massive downpour hitting the room and perimeter around the house - it was not going to ease up. She looked around to Donna but soon came face to face with the portrait that hung on the wall aligned with the stairs; it was of Donna and Angie but Donna didn't down her veil. [Y/N] kept her eyes upon the portrait, completely taken by the lady's beauty/

"You look comfy!" Angie suddenly appeared in [Y/N]'s face, making her jolt back.

"In the name of Mother Miranda, Ms. Angie; you nearly scared me to death." [Y/N] said as she eyed the doll.

"Sorry about that, I couldn't help myself; you seemed distracted so I took it upon myself to bring you back down the Earth." Angie giggled.

"Well, thank you; I wouldn't have wanted to get lost in the stars." [Y/N] smiled at Angie.

The sound of a door opening caused the two of them to look - Donna came out with a tray containing a pot of tea and two cups on saucers with a flask of creme and a bowl of sugar cups. [Y/N] headed over to Donna and took the tray from her - before placing it on the table where Donna was heading to. The Head and the Gardener sat in silence for a while before making themselves some tea.

"Um..." [Y/N] wasn't sure where to start. "You have a very beautiful home, Lady Beneviento." She said with a blush.

"Thank you." That was all Donna said before sipping her tea again. [Y/N] looked at her for a while before she placed her cup back on the saucer before she swallowed her fear and spoke.

"Lady Beneviento...do you dislike me?" that question made Donna freeze.

"What? No, I don't dislike you. Why would you think such a thing?" Donna's voice was laced in panic.

"It's just...you never talk to be apart from today - you're always distant and I thought..." Donna cut her off.

"It's not that!" Donna said in a rushed voice before she calmed down. "It's not that I don't like you - I do, it's just that I like you more than I should but...I never knew how to approach you. I never knew how to talk to you." Donna said as she looked down at her hands but she gasped when she saw a pair of smaller ones reach across the table and gently took one of hers in a soft embrace.

"I understand, Lady Beneviento; I...feel the same. I was so curious about you and something about you draws me to you. I understand if you wouldn't wish to rush; maybe we could talk? Get to know each other better?" [Y/N] asked with a tilt of her head and a smile.

"I...I would like that." Donna said.

"I'll start - My name is [Y/N] [L/N] and I co-own a flower shop." [Y/N] said with a smile.

"My name is Donna Beneviento and I'm one of the Four Lords of the Romanian Village."