#Took four years but it genuinely broke from how often it was used

[ninjamuffin654]

Got to watch Rocky Horror with my mum. It was fucking GREAT (Though we agreed that they were being very mean to poor Rocky).

However the Original Australian Cast almbum version of the songs remains my favourite. Except for Eddie's song because Meatloaf has a fucking incredible voice.

Here's the album! I have it on cd :)

#My mum keeps making fun of me #Bc I thought eddie was saying hot potato bless my soul #And did not question this #Fun fact this version of the soundtrack? #My formerly IMMENSELY catholic and. Kinda homophobic at one point(?) grandma had it on cd #She would play it for my mother in the car #She went to see it multiple times #Mum was like. 7. #She listened to it so often that the cd wore out! #Took four years but it genuinely broke from how often it was used #Now I have a copy >:) #Spotify #rocky horror picture show

[hereticpriest]

Mercy - Chapter 2: Bitter

Rating: Explicit 18+

MDNI

Relationship: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

To begin with, some warnings about this story: A/B/O Dynamics, Female Alpha, Male Omega, Some chapters may involve messing with the whole 'alphas are always dom and omegas are always sub' because I think nuance exists even in A/B/O dynamics, Fucking with the timeline (this is a blend of Canon, Legends, and original lore), Minimal use of Y/N (Explained in the first chapter), Reader is an alien species of my own creation and thus has a physical description, Familial bonds explored heavily, Clone rights explored heavily, Violence is more graphic than canon-typical however any graphic descriptions will be noted, AFAB reader, Not beta-read so I apologize for any mistakes.

Chapter Warnings: Still lots of exposition. I promise I am getting there - at least there's more Obi-Wan in this one? Abandonment is once again discussed. Nothing explicit yet. If you notice any missing warnings, please let me know!

Read on AO3

Masterlist - Part One - Part Three - Part Four

Chapter 2: Bitter

Walking beside your Master always made you feel so poised and regal. He had long ago taught you how to carry yourself, and you knew you made a good picture of the respectable Jedi by following his example. He compared you often to his previous Padawan, now a Jedi Master with his own apprentice - the Stewjonni boy, Obi-Wan Kenobi. At the difficult age of fourteen, you did your best to master your rebellious teenage instincts, worsened by your presentation. Your Master was always very good about reminding you of the Alpha you wanted to be - not ruled by your instincts and emotions, but eagerly and consciously following the will of the Force.

Master Dooku often encouraged his old Padawan, Master Qui-Gon, to bring his Padawan along so that you both could train together. You were the same age, however Obi-Wan had only been chosen by Qui-Gon the year prior, so you took care to do your best to be supportive as he got used to learning under a Master instead of in classes. Training with him was as fun as it was difficult, and you found yourself constantly learning new things. He primarily used Form IV, Ataru, and you found it fun to practise against someone who used such a voracious form. It was a genuine challenge, especially as Obi-Wan grew under Master Qui-Gon’s guidance.

Master Dooku had a habit of assigning you research tasks in the Archives that seemed like a waste of time until you got to the very end, at which point you would find the answer to a question you’d recently asked your Master, or more detailed information about something you had recently been discussing. On one summer morning, Obi-Wan and Doa’su trailed after you as you made your way into the Archives with your datapad in hand. Bustling past Jacosta Nu, you made your way to the stack listed in your note from your Master, and were surprised to find pad after pad of information regarding previous Jedi. Your master had indicated seven pads and data chips for you to collect and review, and Doa’su hummed as she pulled one of the data chips down from the shelves.

“This data chip contains a holo of Master Aulo Bas, a Consular who spent his life in the Temple on Ilum.” She informed you, plugging it into the display at the end of the stack. A strange, and somehow familiar face appeared before you. A face like yours. Lavender skin unlike your pink, but with similarly pointed ears, a strong frame, and a slender tail tipped with a point. He was Haelan, like you.

“Well, that explains that.” Obi-Wan mused, offering Doa’su another data chip to plug in. Again, another Haelan appeared. This one had powder blue skin, and a tail that ended in a tuft of fur. Master Xyla Wellar, a Jedi Weapon Master who specialised in lightsaber pikes and other weapons with reach. You hummed thoughtfully as you brought up the first of the datapads, skim-reading the contents. It appeared to be from a Master Sav Lasra, who broke up a slave ring in the mid rim in which he found several Haela slaves. According to Master Sav, the Haela were valued as slaves due to the strong natural anaesthetics in their saliva, as well as their proposed natural high pain tolerance. It was a grim account, and you felt your stomach turn as you skimmed the descriptions of the experiences Master Sav had while resettling those ex-slaves back on Haelstruum.

“Did Master Dooku just find the records of all of the Haela Jedi and decide to make you read up on them?” Doa’su asked while skimming another datapad, “This one is about a Healer who acted as a battle medic. Ewwww, he used to use his spit for pain relief in emergency situations. I wonder if he… did he just spit on them? Did he lick them? Groooooss.”

You laughed, collecting the datapads and chips from your friends, “Master Dooku always has a reason for the research he assigns me. I’ll have to read all of it before I figure out what his plan was.”

Obi-Wan nodded sagely, stroking his chin, “Master Qui-Gon does the same thing. I guess he learned it from your Master.”

That drew a laugh from both you and Doa’su, and Obi-Wan soon joined you as you all departed from the Archives before you could get in trouble with Archivist Nu. It took you three days to read through all of the datapads you’d been given, and in the end, you were still a little confused about the purpose of your research project. When you were done, you approached your Master, sitting knee-to-knee with him in the meditation chambers.

“Did you finish your research?” Your Master asked, a smile already pulling at his lips as if he knew the troubles you were having.

“Yes Master.” You replied politely, waiting a few moments before you continued, “I’m not sure what the point of the lesson was, I’m afraid.”

Master Dooku smiled even wider, finally cracking his eyes open to look at you, “I’m proud of you for admitting it, my young apprentice. It isn’t always easy to admit when you are unsure. I assigned you this research project because you were taken from your home very young, and there are not currently any Haela Jedi. Master Sav Lasra passed away when you were but a youngling, and he only had the chance to visit you once, long before you would possibly remember it. Most of the other Padawans have someone of their species to learn from. I wanted you to see those who came before you, and read their personal accounts.”

You nodded. This was the only conclusion you had been able to come up with, though you had been sure there was more to it. It was a simple, but very kind thought, and something you had in fact been thinking about recently. You wanted to know more about the other Haela Jedi.

“And now, for your reward.” Master Dooku said with a playful lilt to his voice, instantly making you perk up, “First, I found a force crystal on a moon in the outer rim on my last mission. I want you to have it.”

You perked up, taking the offered bundle of scarlet silk and carefully unwrapping it as if the crystal might bite you. It shimmered and pulsed in your hands, and you felt the Force swirl around you as if pleased.

“Secondly, Master Sav left you a small box of his belongings. He had intended to give it to you himself, however, he left instructions with the council for them to be given to you when you were old enough. He wanted you to have the chance to be close to your heritage, both as a Haela, and a Haela Jedi.” Master Dooku explained, lifting a simple metal box from behind his back. He handed it over, then gave your forearms a gentle squeeze, as if to reassure you.

Under your Master’s watchful gaze, you carefully opened the box, gasping at the contents within. Several unique lightsaber parts, four tail cuffs of varying sizes with unique engravings, several sketches drawn on flimsi, a flimsi map of Haelstuum’s largest city Vaelastra, and a datapad loaded with several books notated by Master Sav. One book contained instructions for moving meditation with notations from Master Sav about how it helped him learn to meditate when he was too restless, while another described each of the lightsaber forms with notated instructions for altering them to account for and make use of a Haela’s tail. You poured over your new gifts, showing everything to your Master, who crooned with appropriate excitement of each new item.

~

The scent of star fruit filled your nose. You could practically taste it on your tongue. Tea followed, earthy and soothing. Honey, and some sort of floral scent you had a vague memory of that slipped through your fingers every time you tried to remember it. The scent was intoxicating, and you chuffed with pleasure on pure instinct as Obi-Wan pinned you to the training mats. You blinked rapidly, then blew out a harsh breath, your hands shooting up to grab at your friend’s waist.

“Obi-” You turned your head to look away from him, purple blooming across your cheeks, “You should go to your room, my friend.”

Obi-Wan raised a sceptical eyebrow at you, sitting back on his haunches now that you weren’t fighting his hold, “Are you trying to get out of me winning? Because it isn’t going to work.”

You took a shallow breath, glancing at him out of your periphery as understanding began to soften his face. He blinked, then shot to his feet, and you swiftly followed. His legs were shaking, and that sweetness filled the air around him. You quickly told Master Yoda what was happening, and that you were going to walk Obi-Wan back to his room, then get his Master for him. You were surprised he didn’t argue, as it was a bit unorthodox for an Alpha to walk an unmated Omega in their first stirrings of pre-heat to their room, but you were known for your self-control. The trust warmed your heart.

“Lean on me, I’ll help you. I’ll get Master Qui-Gon for you right away.” You promised, offering your arm to your friend and ignoring the ache in your teeth. Obi-Wan swiftly pressed into your side, and you put your arm around him, bracing his weight easily against you to help him back to his room. You commed his Master on your way out of the room, and he promised to be there as soon as possible, worry heavy in his voice. He loved Obi-Wan, you knew. You could feel it whenever you were around them. Even if Obi-Wan had become a rule-follower and Qui-Gon Jinn had never met a rule he didn’t find a way around, they fit in a unique sort of way. 

The walk back to their chambers was fraught with anxiety, and you knew you were out of line for growling at the few Jedi who attempted to talk to you both on the way, but Obi-Wan softened like butter in your arms at the protectiveness and his own fear lessened. Getting Obi-Wan into his bed was easy, but leaving was less so. He kept grabbing your hand, rubbing his wrist against yours and whining for comfort. His cheeks were as pink as your skin, and the puppy-dog eyes he gave you to try and get you to stay were criminal. Thankfully, your will was stronger, and you managed to leave the rooms before his pre-heat became a full-blown heat.

You nearly ran into Master Qui-Gon on your way out, and you froze as he sniffed at you and looked you over as if checking that you hadn’t done anything untoward to his Padawan, before thanking you for taking care of him properly. He didn’t linger long, and you smiled at the way the bitter tang in Obi-Wan’s scent soothed the instant he saw his Master. You could hear them murmuring to each other, and you took solace in the fact that you weren’t leaving Obi-Wan alone, even as your instincts clawed at you to go back in.

You doubled up on your rut blockers that night, and Master Dooku simply raised an eyebrow at you as he watched, a certain understanding in his eyes. You had washed your clothing from that day thoroughly, and taken an extra-long shower before going back to your classes, but you wished you could have kept something. Even just something small, a little hint of Obi-Wan’s scent that felt so right. You didn’t, but the desire nagged at you, so you knew you would have to meditate on it. You were a strong Alpha - you had control of yourself and your instincts. You had proved that with your restraint and gentleness - you would not falter now at the finish line.

~

Numb.

Cold, and empty, you sat outside of the council chambers while they discussed your future. Your Padawan braid tickled your neck, and you contemplated cutting it off before finally settling on the more mature choice of tucking it behind your ear. To the passing viewer, you appeared serenely at rest, however on the inside, you were a tempest. The Force flared and flickered, your pain roaring in your ears. It only grew louder and louder the longer you sat outside of the chambers. The door slammed open behind you, and Master Windu looked down upon you with concern written plainly on his face, jerking you out of your downward spiral. You weren’t used to the stern master being so open with his feelings.

“We can feel you from inside the council chambers, Padawan Mercy.” Master Windu said, holding out his hand to her, “Come inside. We have much to discuss.”

You took his hand and allowed him to help you up despite both of you knowing you didn’t need it. Not physically at least. Looking back at that moment, you could admit that emotionally, you had needed his support. As he led you into the chambers, you pushed your shoulders back and tipped your chin up, walking with poise and sweeping steps the way your Master always taught you. Despite the feeling of betrayal weighing heavy on your heart, your Master had imparted many helpful lessons in the art of concealment, and you would use them to your advantage even while your heart was bleeding.

“You see? When you walk like this, you give off the appearance of elegance and control even when you aren’t feeling at your best. My dear apprentice, you are very skilled at hiding your force signature already, and I am very proud. But your face and posture can give you away.” He always said, gently squeezing your shoulders, then helping to fix your posture, “Do you feel it? It’s like armour, Mercy. Everyone has their own form of protection. As a Jedi, our own physicality and knowledge of the Force is like our shield, but you can don additional protection, just like I do. As a Consular, this set of armour will serve you well.”

Master Windu gestured to the seat in the centre of the room for you, then sat on his own beside Master Yoda, whose face was scrunched with what you recognized as sadness. The Masters looked upon you solemnly, and you allowed the gentle brushes of their force signatures against yours, comforting and warm in a way they weren’t meant to be visibly. Your bottom lip wobbled, but you bit the inside of your cheek to hold yourself steady.

“Our apologies, you are owed, young Padawan.” Master Yoda broke the silence, and you swallowed around the lump in your throat, “Think, we did not, about the turmoil you would be feeling. Left you alone, we should not.”

You couldn’t make your mouth open. Your throat felt dry and tight, and you knew if you tried to speak, you would cry. Your eyes stung with it already. So far, you had floated in a river of numbness, frozen to the core, your mind silent as your heart cried. You had woken that morning feeling empty in a way you hadn’t since you were ten. Since your Master had claimed you as his, and braided your hair in front of the Council. Your training bond being cut had woken you, ripped from a gentle slumber to a deep, searing pain in the Force.

Master Dooku was gone. You couldn’t feel him in the Jedi Temple any longer. He had abandoned you.

“We can all feel your pain, young Padawan. You will be supported as you adjust to this new reality. We won’t rush you. However, we wish to reassure you that should you wish to continue your training, you will be assigned a new Master. This is not the end of your journey as a Jedi, so long as you desire to continue.” Master Plo Koon spoke up, and you nodded at him, thanking him for his gentle words. His force signature brushed comfortingly against yours again, and you barely held back a sniffle.

“I-I want to be a Jedi.” You choked out, feeling the soft relief in the room at your declaration, “I promise I will follow the will of the Force, and be the best Padawan to whoever chooses me. I won’t disappoint yo-”

“Know you will, we do. A strong, respectful Padawan, you have always been. Doubts about you, none of us have.” Master Yoda interrupted you gently, stopping your near-panicked promises. You swallowed hard to keep yourself together, and Master Yoda sighed sympathetically. Everyone in the Council was reeling with the loss of Dooku, especially considering the circumstances. Master Dooku had not been killed. He had not been expelled from the Jedi Order for some crime or breach of the Code.

Dooku left. He left the Jedi - left you - and headed to Serenno to take his place in the rulership of the planet. He left you masterless without even having the strength to tell you himself. Devastation did not even begin to cover it.

“Spend time with your fellow Padawans. Centre yourself. When you’re ready, we will assign you a new Master.” Master Mundi assured you, and you bowed low to the Council, sighing with relief when Master Windu dismissed you. Doa’su met you at the door to your room, and you both cringed a little at how empty it felt with all of your old master’s things gone. You curled up on your bed with your closest friend, soon joined by Nanga, Orare and Yaris soon joined you, and you felt better at the bottom of a cuddle puddle with the closest members of your old youngling clan.

It took a week before you felt stable enough to consider a new Master. You didn’t want to fall behind on your training, and you knew there might be doubts if you took too long to recover. You spent the first day with your old clan members, roaming your favourite parts of the Jedi Temple and enjoying the peace while you could. Your second day, Master Qui-Gon invited you to tea to check on you, and you did your best to reassure him that you would be okay. He let Obi-Wan walk you back to your room, and he came in to sit with you for a bit, your head on his shoulder as you talked about anything but your old master. Days three through seven were spent in deep meditation, first in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, and then in the Lake level. With the gentle guidance of the Force at your back, you went through every single kata you knew, embracing moving meditation with open arms. You practiced every lightsaber form until you couldn’t stand any longer, and meditated under the rushing water of the waterfalls.

By the time you had finished your week, you felt reconnected to the Force. You still ached, of course. You were heartbroken. Like many Jedi, you followed the Code. However, like your old Master and his old Padawan before you, you had your own interpretations. So, while the Code forbade attachments, you held the understanding that possessive love was what the Code truly forbade. The inability to accept change, the inability to put the will of the Force over those you loved, was what the Code sought to avoid. You loved your Master. He was the closest thing you’d ever had to a father. But he was gone, and he would not be coming back for you. The Force willed you on different paths, and you would trust in the Force’s guidance.

On the morning of the eighth day, you walked into the council chambers and bowed before the Council. With their kind greetings, you stood proudly before them, your tail coiled around your leg to hide your nerves. You were ready for a new Master, you told them, and would welcome their guidance with a clear mind. Master Plo Koon spoke up, claiming you under his guidance, as the Force willed him to show you the compassion you deserved. He was gentle as he undid your Padawan braid, carefully collecting each bead and coloured band as he went. When he rebraided your hair, he moved your old beads and bands higher in your braid, leaving room for his own. This new part of your braid began with a wooden bead he admitted to carving himself for you with an orange band to represent himself.

You couldn’t have been happier. Your new Master was kind, and understood your skills enough not to hold you back. He took you through a simple demonstration, then began to teach you right away, as if you had always been his. You learned more about his preferred lightsaber form, Form V - Shien. Makashi would always be where you began, and you had a feeling you would return there eventually, but the Force entreated you to learn all you could about Shien and you would do your best to listen.

Master Plo set you up with more classes in the Halls of Healing, encouraging you to improve your natural gift as it would be an asset on the field. Between missions, he would often let you spend your time there, when you weren’t otherwise busy with training. It was with his guidance that you finally began to learn beyond the bare bones basics of piloting. It wasn’t ever going to be something you excelled at the way some Jedi did, but you were certainly better than the average pilot due to the guidance of the Force.

You learned swiftly under Master Plo’s guidance, and you were thrilled to find that while you missed your old Master, you were able to accept that your time together was done and still look back on him fondly. Hurt lingered on the fringes, and you were unsure how you would feel if you ever did see him again, but you held true to his teachings without the bitterness some in the Council had worried you may carry. While you had moved on to using primarily Shien, you still practiced Makashi to keep your skills sharp, and to honour the legacy your old Master had passed on to you. And if sometimes, late at night, you looked back on your fond memories with a bitter taste in your mouth, that was for you and you alone to know.

#obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x oc #obi-wan kenobi x original character

[aplaceforthesoul]

Anonymous submitted:

29f here  hi there, I started to "officially" date my boyfriend bout a year ago. Im really happy with him. I adore him, and our relationship is amazing.  I had never been in a commited relationship before, and there is a small thing that has been bothering me lately. I m not a jealous at all, I have never been like this, yet I feel worried about him and his exgf. It all starts when we first met... when we met they werr together and we were not even friends (my bf and me) and then "they broke up" or thats what he said. We started going put as friends and then went on a trip together... we started being friends with benefits after he asured me he was no longer in a relationship with this person. Well turns out one day I was at the beach and I saw them together.he didnt even speak to me. Then he said she still lived in his house bc she was broke and unemployed and that he took her to the beach "cos she wanted to go". We were not a couple just friendswb ... so yeah I distanced myself bc I didnt want to be w someone with a gf... ok so fast forward. After a month or so he  calls me to tell me she trashed his house bc he asked her to leave. So another month ... we start dating. I decided to Just let go of that bc we were not even together. Everything is great and he is like my bestfriend. BUT this lady has messaged him twice.1st saying he saw us together at the beach he didnt answer. 2nd to tell him she was over him and that she was dating sb el se. And he answered hope u r doing well ... like this bothered me ... cos a guy that i was seeing in the past also messaged me and i was like mm yeah idc ... anything else?... bc i genuinely dont care. ...We have a fb Page of a bussines we started together.  The ex often watches stories reels and Leaves reacts here and there but doesnt follow said Page. She blocked a friend of mine bc she thinks she is the actual gf... she doesnt even Know it is me ... but like this shit is toxic. And I now DO belive what he told me about them not being together and him lettting her stay out of pity, bc he often allows ppl to take advantage of him and doesnt set boundaries. This worries me bc im scared she might try sth w him and he May accept bc of this.it also fills me w doubts about HIM having moved on from her. Idk how to approach this wo sounding crazy. I already told him about the fb thing and her blocking my friend and he just says ah yeah .but i dont know how to tell him about my concerns. Hope you could help me. I feel very anxious and like this could be a thing that could ruin the relationship and trust

Hi there. It's understandable that you feel anxious since it seems to be a messy situation. It does not seem like a healthy relationship to me :c

It seems to me that a lot of focus has been put on him and his ex but not you. Have you asked yourself what you want from the relationship and from him? Are you happy being in this relationship/ situation?

As an adult, I think your bf needs to take accountability as he continues letting things happen (even if he no longer has feelings for her). If you are not happy with how things are going, perhaps it's best to find a time when you and him are both calm to have a face-to-face convo

You may approach the conversation by stating your observations and feelings without any criticism or judgment (This link about four components to the Nonviolent Communication (NVC) model, may help). Tell him calmly how the situation (him letting his exgf take advantage of him) makes you feel uncomfortable and you would like to see if boundaries can be put up.

I can also feel that you feel insecure about this relationship as you worried that she may steal him away. Trust and honesty are important qualities of a healthy romantic relationship. Currently, it seems to me that you do not feel secure about your place in the relationship and his behaviours. Apart from talking to him regarding the situation, perhaps try putting the focus back on yourself? Engage in your hobbies, hang out with friends and family or join a new community? When you focus on yourself more, you will have less time to worry about him. You are loved regardless of his feelings for you. You are valued no matter how he treats you. <3

There is also no certain way to know if he/ she was lying. You can only do what's best for you in this situation. Please always take care of yourself first!

Love,

Sammi

#anon submitted #submission #29f #bf #exgf #fwb #relationship

[submarinerwrites]

t.h. white, the once and future king

★★★★★

truly one of the fantasy epics of the twentieth century. possibly all time. a retelling of the legend of king arthur, the once and future king brings potent, arresting emotion to stories that we too often think of as long-dead.

i think it might’ve been ursula le guin who said she’d read this and laughed over it and cried over it all her life? me too genuinely. i read it first when i was eight and then several more times over the years (though this is my first time since high school) and it has always always made me laugh and cry in new and painful ways.

on that subject, it is still blisteringly funny. i love its humor, the way white mixes vernacular and high english, the way he describes history. it’s lush and amusing and i think everyone can glean something from it.

it is also painfully sad. my feelings while reading vary greatly based on my mood, but i was sad while reading it and what i took away from it was sad also. i kept thinking about the way the orkneys killed the unicorn and killed their mother and how different and yet how similar it was to arthur’s boar hunt. i kept thinking about the way white wrote about arthur’s loneliness and desire to do good. and about how lancelot broke down and cried because the miracle was that he had been allowed to do a miracle.

and the idea that arthur spent his whole life a lonely and damaged boy determined to do great things and then found himself up to his elbows in blood anyways... that’s just... so....

also like sidenote i do love bbc merlin or at least the parts i’ve seen (okay yes i’m talking about the fic) but i do think there’s really something to be said for an arthur who grew up confused, and alone, and broken, and friendless, and who went on to do all of these great things while carrying all of that inside of him... like maybe it’s just because i read the book long before i ever heard of the show but there’s something so special about the way white writes about his childhood to me.

from a more critical point of view, i think the one issue—if you can call it that—is that tonally the sword and the stone is violently and completely different from the rest of the novel. i don’t think white maybe intended for people to read all four of them in one volume honestly. i think it’s to the work’s detriment.

also! how was kay seneschal of all of arthur’s lands and fucking galivanting around the country?? no the hell he wasnt?? bro thats a full time job??

loved how white continually referenced malory; reminded me of the way malory constantly referenced the french book. arthuriana intertextuality ftw fr.

and i don’t know how i’d never picked up on this before but i am almost certain upon this reading that white wants us to entertain the possibility that it was mordred, not lancelot, who killed gaheris and gareth. mordred is desperate because he thinks lancelot is going to get away with everything and arthur won’t be ruined by everything he’s done and so he leaves and then kills gareth and gaheris in the madness. also gareth died shocked which i don’t think he necessarily would be if it were lancelot who killed him. small point but it is interesting.

also i found myself thinking about the john steinbeck quote: that arthur has lived over and over again because of all the stories we tell about him. i think white’s book truly allows for that to happen: arthur comes to life.

#br2024 #literature #book review #arthuriana

[icariancurse]

ran into an old friend at my new job today! calling her an ex best friend still feels wrong four years later, it’s just such an understatement and doesn’t even begin to describe what we were. She pulled me out of my first and worst most toxic relationship like i really couldn’t have left as soon as i did without her, i was the only new person she could let into her life after the thing that happened to all of us. We told each other genuinely everything and fell in love in our own fucked up teenager way, it was never healthy though. we fell into everything quickly and i was much more blatant about my feelings, she was scared it took months for either of us to admit it. instead of communicating (which we were notoriously bad at) we just dropped little hints to each other and tried to make each other jealous when one of us showed interest in someone else, always testing the other and seeing how many lines we could cross without having to face the consequences. it was intense and often heartbreaking and god i really thought she was the love of my i know everyone thinks that when they’re sixteen, but i swear we were different. she’s not the love of my life i know that now but sixteen year old me would’ve traversed heaven and hell if it meant we had a shot. to this day i haven’t experienced something so intense and that’s really a good thing, it wasn’t usually the good kind of intense. we did this on and off for three years, each time was worse and also better. i would get fed up with our games and just tell her how i felt.

the first time it happened she gave me some vague answer about how she felt and strung me along, holding my hand getting me flowers and valentines presents, then she would start seeing someone else and i wouldn’t be able to take it anymore and tell her we need space. one of us always caved and broke the distance and we tried again.

the second time i told her she admitted she liked me but was too scared of losing me to do anything about it, i would say we can find a way to just be friends, she kept treating me like a girlfriend after that, falling asleep next to each other at every sleep over and waking up to us holding each other. of course the cycle repeated i pulled back then she pulled me back in.

the third time was the most intense, we played our games, i told her how i felt she said the same thing as last time but admitted her fault. nothing ever changes though, lots of interrupted almost kisses or us almost kissing then one of us pulling away. two memories from this time are still as fresh as the day they happened. once of us at a shitty party neither of us enjoyed hiding in the driveway while i waited for my friend to be ready to leave and she waited for her ride, we were alone sitting on the concrete backs leaned against the garage door i can’t remember what we’re talking about but i remember how it felt centimeters from her face when we both stopped talking and just staring at each other, i remember every freckle on her face and her wet hair falling to the sides. when we both leaned in and our lips barley touched before someone came looking for us and we both jumped apart like what we were doing was wrong. the other is of us laying in her bed alone, usually we were with groups but this was one of the times we had to ourselves, we had put on some youtube video but neither of us watched we were on our sides turned facing each other. it was slow, very slow be we kept drifting closer to each other until she was holding me for the first time not drunk, high, or asleep. we stayed like that for hours and hardly spoke the entire time just looking at each other scared to even breathe wrong like one of us might break from our bubble. of course eventually we both ended up leaning in again but this time i freaked and almost pulled back on my own, but when her sister knocked on the door we were interrupted again. after this we didn’t speak about it she didn’t want to so i ran away again, this time lasted a lot longer than the last ones around a year actually. a year of us communicating through adding songs to playlist about each other that ended up over 500 hours long, no actual words spoken besides that, at least until the last time.

the fourth and final time, i caved and texted her a long message and we facetimed about it, talked about everything finally and i mean everything. she finally said the words she said she loved me and only me, i was the only one she loved like that. she told me that entire year she never stopped loving me, the words i had craved hearing. she wanted to give it a shot this time we wanted to build up our friendship again first of course and i told her i wasn’t sure about the romance part but i wanted to try friends so we agreed to that. for once it was going well, until i met someone else and started to develop feelings for them instead. i wasn’t sure what to do i was torn, until she made that decision for me by mentioning this guy i was kind of friends with. she never said she had feelings for him but i could tell she wanted me to think she did so this time i ran as far as i could. i would later find out anytime she talked to this guy she was always talking about me but by then it didn’t matter. nothing mattered when i realized she was going to play games again so i fucking ran and left it all no closure or explanation.

for four years i didn’t speak to her, until today. i know better now and i’m not even going to let us be friends but i couldn’t avoid her coming into my job. it was pure coincidence she didn’t know i was there but the moment she stepped through the door every single emotion came flooding back. after she left we texted, we still are texting actually, we’ve danced around talking about it and mostly just called it a draw, the consequences of two stupid teenagers who wanted to love each other and didn’t know how. during our talk she said something like “you were my best friend and i was hurt” and to hear her call me her best friend one last time, it’s a feeling that’s indescribable. if anyone else called us best friends i would’ve hit their heads off but no matter how much time has passed i know that when she calls me her best friend it means more than that, i know it’s so much more loaded than just friendship. something about her acknowledging that without even actually saying what we were struck something in me today (clearly) i can’t blame her for not calling us what we were. i don’t even know what we were.

what do you call it when you were young and so absolutely wrapped up in the love you held for each other yet had never so much as kissed?

when four years later, all grown up you can still barley look each other in the eye and both of your hands shake at the sight of one another?

i am breaking the cycle at least, we won’t do this a fifth time.

i will not be the dog begging for scraps anymore. not this time.

i am not sixteen anymore.

#what a homoerotic situationship does to a bitch

[messers-moony]

King and Queen | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Fem!Potter!Reader, James Potter X Fem!Twin!Reader

Summary: James goes through a lot during his time at Hogwarts but his sister is always by his side.

Inspiration: Click

A/N: If this comes off insensitive to anyone please let me know and I will remove this.

James Potter was a handful. From the minute he was born, he had this gleam in his hazel eyes that raged and burned with trouble. His twin, Y/n Potter, was almost the opposite. The soft smile that laid on her features and the glitter of calamity in her eyes. Euphemia and Fleamont were in for a lot the minute their twins were born. 

Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder is most comparative to having a web browser up with one too many tabs. James had always been unable to focus and was naturally messy. Truth be told, he thought it was normal, just as everyone else did. It wasn’t until his second year at Hogwarts did he realize something was genuinely wrong with him. 

Remus told him that he had this muggle thing called “dyslexia,” which was a difficulty in interpreting words, letters, and other symbols. However, it never affected his overall intelligence because everyone knew that Remus Lupin was indeed and wholly brilliant. It got James wondering, did his inability to focus, be organized, and hyperactivity have a deeper meaning?

His twin - Y/n - was quite the opposite. She made quick friends with Remus, Sirius, and Peter, who were close friends of her twin. Y/n was top of their class, creating a friendly competition with Remus, but she was always able to focus. Often she would hyper-focus, which would leave her working for over five hours at a time without realizing it. In those times, James would have to snap her out of it. 

Over the summer, James expressed his concerns to his parents. He was talking about how this could be a real issue he’s facing using Remus’ dyslexia as an example. Eventually, they gave in, letting James go to a muggle doctor. James had to fill out a questionnaire that would come back with his results in one week. That week was probably the longest week of his life. Nonetheless, his test results had come back positive. 

Fleamont and Euphemia would be lying if they were surprised. After hearing about the disorder, it was almost the definition of their eldest son. Fortunately for James, the muggles had come up with a cure - no, not a cure - dammit, what was it again?

Impede the symptoms! That’s what those muggle pills do. James was required to take two pills a day, one in the morning and once at night. Y/n was in charge of making sure he did so because - more times than he’d like to admit - he would forget everything if it wasn’t for Y/n. 

In third year, James was as energetic as ever while getting on the Hogwarts Express, “Aren’t you excited, Y/n?!”

She chuckled, “Yes, but Merlin, you don’t need to literally jump with joy.”

“But I’m excited!”

“I know that.”

They made their way to the compartment that held Remus, who was reading a book. James sat in front of him while Y/n took her seat beside Remus, “‘Ello Remus.”

“Hey, Potter pair.”

Y/n sighed, and James groaned, “That nickname needs to go away.”

“I quite like it.” Remus stated smugly, “Suits you both.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Y/n accused falsely, “It means that wherever one of you are, the other isn’t that far behind.” Remus replied. 

James had zoned out already, and Y/n snapped in his face, “Take your pills?” 

“Forgot.” James muttered guiltily, “Oh Godric.” She whispered. 

“Pills?”

“James went to a muggle doctor this summer.”

Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Did you now?”

“Got diagnosed with ADHD.” James informed, and Remus looked amiss, “Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of that.” Remus said, and James smiled sheepishly, “I feel kinda odd, like out of place.”

“Why?”

“Dunno, just, why can't I be normal?”

“You are normal, James.” Y/n reassured, “And anyone who says differently obviously doesn’t care about you.”

The compartment door slammed open, “Who doesn’t care about who?”

Remus snorted, “Ever the dramatics, huh, mate?”

“‘Course.” Sirius flopped down beside James, “It comes with my charm and devilishly good looks.”

“Ah, yes.” Y/n said, chuckling, “Don’t you see how I’m swooning for you?”

The back of her palm was against her forehead, “Come off it.” James swatted at her and then elbowed Sirius, “Better not make my sister swoon.”

Sirius chuckled and shrugged, “Can’t help it. I’m just that irresistible.”

The four of them laughed at Sirius’ dramatics and continued talking about the new term. Remus and Y/n were talking about books they couldn’t wait to read. Remus was even kind enough to gift her some muggle books he bought over the summer holiday. Sirius and James bickered about what pranks to do this year, along with which ones were better. 

Third-year was fun. It was a year of flooding corridors, turning Slytherin robes red and blasting music in the common room after a Gryffindor victory. James was a brilliant Quidditch Chaser, and Y/n was a fantastic Seeker. Nothing was quite like the Potter pair. Something about them was just unforgettable. 

Maybe that’s why Sirius was so fond of her. Something about the Potters made people around them smile on the hardest of days. They made sure that every moment was a night to remember. Every memory was worth reliving. So adventurous, so reckless, yet so kind and loving. 

By the time fifth year rolled around, Sirius Orion Black had fallen off a cliff into a lake called love. Sirius completely submerged himself in love for Y/n Potter. The younger twin by just 20 minutes, but something about her was so divine. Was it her silk and glittering h/c hair? No - maybe it was her gleaming e/c eyes. Perhaps it was for her strive for adventure and extreme kindness. 

Nonetheless, Sirius fell hard.

And who better to tell than James Potter himself?

Causally - as usual - Sirius opened the door to the Marauders dorm. It was empty aside from the brunet boy with glasses on the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes were focused on a textbook - Potions textbook - maybe it was to impress Lily. Sirius couldn’t care less, so he pulled the chair out in front of the desk and sat before James. 

“Mate, I need your help.”

“Running from Filch?”

“No. Something- Something worse.”

“Something worse?” The textbook shut loudly.

Sirius nodded, “Way worse.”

“Alright then, come into my office.” James teased, and Sirius grinned. 

It was silent, “I’m in love with your sister.”

James sputtered, “Excuse me?”

“I’m in love with Y/n.”

“No, no.” James waved his hand horizontally, “I heard you.”

“Then what else would you like me to say?” Sirius asked. 

“Literally anything else.”

“Sorry, mate.” Sirius muttered, “I- I really didn’t mean to.”

James chuckled and wiped his hand across his face, “I suppose you can’t really stop love, huh?”

“You really can’t.” Sirius agreed, “I tried. I promise I tried.”

“It’s not that big of a deal late.” James assured, and Sirius looked at him with wide eyes, “I trust you just-“

“Just?”

“I’m worried about her.” James completed, “I- I worry about her every night.”

Sirius softened, “It’s like you with Regulus-“ James continued before Sirius could interject, “And don’t pretend. Your silencing charms are bloody terrible.”

“I know you still care for Regulus, you worry about him every night, and I do the same for Y/n, except my silencing charms are better.” James teased sightly, “I trust you, Sirius. You’re the brother I never got but always wanted. You know, the brother I can play Quidditch with, rough around with, the brother who’s just as sneaky and mischievous as I.”

“But Y/n is still my blood. She's my twin, my best friend, my partner in crime. She was the mind behind my pranks before Remus.” James elaborated and then smirked, “Remus and Y/n make a great team, ya’ know?”

“They are quite brilliant.”

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, take care of her?” James looked like the eleven-year-old boy again, “Don’t make her a fling and don’t make this temporary.”

“Y/n is a strong woman, and she isn’t for weak men. I’ll be honest,” James chuckled, “She doesn’t need a man. She doesn’t even really need me. I need her more than she needs me. Regardless, take care of her. She deserves a man worthy of her. Someone that’ll get her ice cream at 4 a.m. because she’s craving it. Someone that’ll go on sporadic trips with her. Someone that’ll understand that after a hard day, all she wants is a book and coffee.”

Sirius was appalled; he’d never seen James look so passionate, “Growing up, mum always told me to be a gentleman. I know it may not seem like it sometimes, but she always raised me as one. To hold a door for them, push and push in their chairs for them, give them my jacket even if I’ll freeze.” 

“Those kinda things. Dad said I should practice on Y/n, and I did. From then, Y/n always got treated like a queen, and she deserves no less. I won't lie, my parents treat me like a king too, and I don’t want any less either.” James explained, “Be the king that’s worthy of my sister.”

“That’s all I ask of you.”

Sirius nodded, “I’d be honored to serve her as my queen.”

“And if you show her no less, she’ll spit you out like chewing gum.”

He shuttered, “I hate how accurate that phrase is.”

James laughed, “I know her more than you think.”

By sixth year they were dating. Sirius would be lying if he wasn’t eternally shitting himself when Y/n said yes to going to Hogsmeade with him, alone, as a date. In fact, James almost wanted to throw him a party for finally not being a little bitch and asking out his sister. This party consisted of a bottle of firewhiskey and chocolate because that’s all that was in the boy's dormitory. But a party nonetheless. 

When Lily rejected James for the last time before graduation, he was utterly heartbroken. He’d spent and dedicated seven years of his life to this gorgeous woman. Despite all his efforts and all his charms, she still wasn’t interested. James tried. He really tried. He wanted Lily so bad. His heart broke when she said her final words of goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Potter. Maybe in another life, just not this one.”

Tears had ebbed at the corner of his eyes as he made his way back into the castle from the Black Lake. In the common room, where he felt like he had just got dowsed in water. James made his way to the girl's dormitory. His hand curled into a fist and knocked lightly on the wooden door. Shuffling was heard from the other side, and the door finally opened, revealing his sister. 

Without warning, James crashed into her arms, forcing his nose in the crook of her neck, “Woah.”

“Are you okay, James?”

His body shook with sobs as he shook his head no, “It’s okay. Let’s go lay down, okay?”

Gently she led him to her bed. He curled up beneath the navy blue comforter and placed his head on the silk pillow sheets. If he tried hard enough, he could forget the way Lily’s hair smelt today or the way her green eyes glistened in the sun. Now engulfed in his sister's scent, trying to remove every feeling for Lily possible, he dug his nose deeper into the comforter. 

Y/n sat beside him, her back to the headboard, and ran her fingers through James’ already untied hair, “What's got you so worked up?”

“It’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“L- Lily and I.” James choked, “She- She really doesn’t want me.”

A new wave of tears overcame him, and Y/n continued to try and soothe him, “Well, she’s a tosser.”

James narrowed his eyes, “James, you know I love her. She's my best friend, but if she can’t see what’s right in front of her, then she’s an idiot.”

“Can I- Can I stay here tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay at your dorm?” Y/n questioned, “Because you know who sleeps here.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Till the end.”

After a couple of minutes, Y/n and James made their way down the steps to the boy's side. They walked up more steps and finally made it to the boy's dormitory. James collapsed on his bed in the left corner of the room, and Sirius perked up at seeing his girlfriend enter the room. 

“Whatcha doin’ here, love?”

“Staying with my brother.”

Sirius nodded and stood up to hug her, gently pecking her forehead, “If you guys need anything, let me know, ‘kay?”

“Thanks, Siri.” 

Gently Y/n pulled back the maroon curtain and sat down beside him again. James reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. Something they used to do as kids. When a thunderstorm would go by, James would always seek sanctuary in his sister's comfort. 

He fell asleep that night, knowing he was safe, loved, and knew that someone cared about him. Even if Lily didn’t love him, at least someone else did. He had his boys, and he had his sister. Right now, that’s all he needed beside him: Screw Lily and her idiot decision skills. Y/n was right; she was a complete tosser. 

When Hogwarts was over, James and Y/n got a flat together. Sirius, Remus, and Peter got one only a floor above. Realistically this wasn’t the plan. James always planned to buy a house with Lily, but he was still healing, and after everything going on, it was vital for him to hold his sister close to him.

Euphemia and Fleamont barely lived to see their children graduate. Not too long afterward had died due to the horrid dragon pocks. It devastated both twins and Sirius. While Sirius wasn’t their true child, he very well could’ve. Euphemia noticed Sirius’s lingering stares on Y/n and the loopy smile that graced his features.

She was the one who got Sirius to man up. She was the one who gave him advice. She was the one who told him what books were her favorite, which chocolate she liked the best, her favorite quills. Euphemia was one of the main components in getting Sirius to date her daughter, and when it finally happened, the parents couldn’t have been happier.

James’ ADHD still remained even in his adulthood, making regular everyday tasks much harder and twice as long. Most of the time, the pills were able to help him complete those tasks. But sometimes, when Y/n wasn’t there to remind him, he would miss his days. When Y/n got home from work, she had barely taken off her shoes to see the apartment spotless.

It was a pleasant surprise, but James was never really one to clean, not that she really minded, but the apartment didn’t have a speck of dust on it. Hesitantly she put her keys on the island along with her bag.

“James!”

“Yes, Y/n?”

He appeared in the kitchen where Y/n was, “Um, did you clean the apartment?”

“Yes, I did!” James nodded enthusiastically.

Y/n sighed and gave her brother a sweet smile, “What did you not do today?”

“So, you know how you told me to go to the pharmacy?”

“Mhm.” Y/n nodded, “Indeed I do.”

“Well, they were out of my meds.” James informed, “I have to wait a week.”

“Oh, Merlin.”

“On the bright side!” James was already causing her a headache, “It’s gonna be a fantastic week! I’ve got so many things planned for us! We’re gonna go-“

James continued to ramble as Y/n grabbed her keys, bag and slipped back on her shoes, “I’m going to Sirius’!”

“Thought you were my sister.” James faked pouting, and Y/n smiled, “I love you, but you’re crazy.”

“I love you too!” He yelled as she closed the door.

#sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius orion black #sirius imagine #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader smut #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #sirius black imagine #sirius black #marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders smut #marauders imagine #marauders fluff #marauders #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter fluff #james fluff #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus x y/n #remus x you

[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. 

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts drabble #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bangtan #bangtan scenarios #jjk #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #park jimin #jung hoseok #min yoongi #enjoy guys!! #let me know what you think #please i'm desperate for attention lol #boxer au #college au #childhood friends to lovers

[the-starryknight]

twelve favorite drarry fic reccers

these are some of the lovely folks who have introduced me to fics that broke my heart, took me on vast emotional journeys, and made me laugh my butt off.  each of these reccers have different ways of presenting insightful (and often humorous) commentary, pointing out all the best bits of fic, and reminding me of all the lovely reasons I’m in this fandom. here’s a shout out and a thank you to these brilliant rec’cers! please thank your faves in the comments too <3 

@sitp-recs - Witty, thoughtful, and oh-so-carefully worded, each of Liv's recs brings out the best in the fics described. Each time I see a new post, it’s a must-read! Liv creates such a kind and affirming environment that feels so special. Her themed weeks have left me utterly weak, going back to the masterlists over and over whenever I need a new suggestion.

@eat-yearn-cry - From when I saw the first four masterlists floating around to the absolutely fantastic posts now, I feel so lucky we get eat-yearn-cry's suggestions! Each of her recs is brilliant and informed, hilarious and sometimes sarcastic, and so clearly her. It’s an absolute joy to hear these thoughts, it always sends me straight to whatever fic she's poured her heart out about.

@dewitty1 - Dewitty has such excellent taste in fics, and always picks the best excerpts to share to get my interest piqued.  I love seeing her masterlists across my dash and getting to see both fics i’ve read and loved and ones I know I must check out based on her opinion.

@thedrarrylibrarian - The ex-library worker and lover of organizing in me absolutely swoons at this blog full of gorgeously-tagged posts. I can see how much work is put into curating an excellent repository of fic, and gosh do I love it!  I'm so looking forward to more of the Happy Hour series.

@drarryspecificrecs - Truly, I do not know how this blog manages everything, from fest recaps to daily recs, to answering endless questions and searching for fics. I remain in awe daily at the amount of excellent and beautifully organized content this incredible blog shares with us.

@dragontamerdame - Though I know Ash is no longer doing recs (and looking at their art, I cannot complain, what a beautiful application of their skill!) I still find myself revisiting some of their old lists because they are so well put together and so detailed, each one feels unbelievably comprehensive.

@dictacontrion - I’ve been a fan of Dicta's writing almost as long as I’ve read drarry fic, and I came onto tumblr this year to find a vast trove of daily excerpts and longer fic rec masterposts.  Each and every rec is truly a treasure!

@hogwartsfirebolt - I absolutely adore HogwartsFirebolt's Netfics rec list, not only because it features some of my favorite fics, but what a brilliant way of sharing the fic love? While the taste in fics alone is impeccable, I loved the way this is put together -- I wish I could open up Netfics rn and dive into some of these shared faves!

@onbeinganangel - Not only does Marion share her beautiful embroidery with us, but she has chosen to use it to recommend fics! From the soft cotton of her What We Do In the Shadows rec to the threads of the others, they always make me run straight to ao3, and the fic recs are never amiss.

@zeziliazink - Zezilia's ‘fandom classics’ series, part 1 and part 2, genuinely feel like penguin classics I could pull right off the shelf, plus they’re full of utterly stellar drarry fics! I love how Zezilia has applied an excellent definition of 'classic' here and I wish I had a shelf full of fics like this.

@rockmarina - I've found myself cackling over Rockmarina's meme fic recs on more than one occasion, enjoying them for both the funny and the intensely dramatic fics. They immediately make me want to open ao3 because they are always, without fail, an absolute joy.

@queercore-curriculum​ - I'm not sure if Queercore would be considered a fic reccer, but each time I see one of the gorgeous, gorgeous binds on my dash, I have two overwhelming thoughts: 1) oh my god, wow, look at that (and that, and that, and that, as I scroll through each stunning image) and 2) I must read this fic right away if someone has spent so much time binding it. We are so lucky to get to see Queercore's craft!

#drarry #drarry fic reccers #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry fanfic #drarry fic #drarry fic rec #add your faves to the list too!!!

[gifted-burnout-archive]

All I Want For Christmas Is You

Word Count: 5.8K+

Author’s Note: ok so someone ask me why I chose pedraz and I’ll tell you. I loved writing this, I think we all missed luke smut, I know I did. And frenemies is always fun, especially when the sexual tension is real. And christmas time too! i hope you guys enjoy it.

Pairings: luke patterson x reader - cousin!julie x reader

Warnings: smut, baby!

--

Some people just radiate confidence, wherever they go, whatever they do. You meet one of those people and often find yourself blown away by their beauty, their intelligence, their sheer, raw and unfiltered talent: the sort of people that walk into a room and all eyes suddenly fall onto them, because why wouldn’t they?

In short, there wasn’t a lot that Luke wasn’t good at.

The Los Feliz senior was perhaps the most popular kid in school; the band he was lead guitarist of certainly aided in that status, but in truth he was just that likeable, that talented, that handsome. He would find himself denying it when complimented, diverting the praise somewhere else, holding on to what little humility a guy that appealing could have. The sort of person who would spend his weekends helping the homeless or saving cats from trees, all while keeping up with his schoolwork, a meticulous work out routine and band practice.

And yet he still couldn’t convince the girl he liked to go out with him.

“Morning, pendejo.” As the school bell rung one colder-then-usual December morning, Luke was greeted by the familiar term of endearment from his locker neighbour and Julie Molina’s older cousin, Y/N. A senior, like he was, and his bandmate’s closest confidante, Y/N and Luke had been acquainted for their entire childhoods, and ‘friends’ for perhaps seven months out of fifteen plus years. They had gone through grade school together, just like Luke had with Alex, and later on Reggie when he moved to LA, lived down the street from one another, ran in similar social circles for the majority of high school.

That wasn’t to say they were actually friends, quite the opposite in fact. Their mutual of Julie forced upon them each other’s company, despite the very blatant truth everyone but Luke’s lead singer and Y/N’s prima pequeña was unaware of:

Luke and Y/N were too competitive to ever get along.

In the same way that Luke lit up rooms with his smile and charmed the socks off of every person he met, Y/N did the same. Call it her adoptive mother’s perfectionist agenda, her own high expectations, or simple happenstance, Y/N Pedraz was the sort of person whose only obstacle was her own mind. The sort of person who had the brightest stars in her eyes and the sweetest symphonies in her laughter, with a brain as sharp as her wit and extensive vocabulary to offend someone in three separate languages; she was the girl with the wall of blue ribbons and the report card with straight As, the girl who, alongside her aunt, taught Julie piano.

The girl Luke had been in love with since 6th grade.

“Idiota? Are you even listening?” Luke was snapped from his thoughts to look back down at the girl stood beside him, watching him with a raised eyebrow as he tried to form enough saliva in his mouth, that had suddenly become very dry, in hopes of responding. After a few seconds of no luck, Y/N smiled and shook her head. “Not wasting your breath on me, how sweet. Julie wants you and the guys to come to mine for band practice. Something about the studio roof having a hole in it and people coming to fix it, and my mom is on her holiday detox cruise until the New Year so the only person you’ll be disturbing is me!” The chipper tone of voice was laced in sarcasm, and Luke couldn’t help but role his eyes at her, to which she scoffed. “Since I’m doing you the favour, Mr Rockstar, you should maybe be nicer to me.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Princess?” Luke finally found his words, calmed his heart beat, and dressed his face with a cheeky smirk as he closed over his locker and leant back against the cool blue metal. “But if we were nice to each other, who would hate us?” He posed the question, earning a soft smile from the girl, a victory in his book. It wasn’t often he got a genuine smile out of her.

“The problems with being perfect, Patterson.” She collected her books and closed over her own door, spinning on her sneaker heel with a flip of her hair. “Hasta luego, guapo.” She called back to Luke, making her way towards her next class as the second bell of the day rang, and Luke muttered a soft ‘shit’ as he started in a sprint towards his first class on the other side of the school.

He managed to cross the doorway of his English class just as the bell rang, sending a wink and grin to his teacher Madame Monroe, who was so old people were convinced she immortal, and taking his seat at the back of the class with a sigh of relief, busying himself with pulling out their current reading piece and notepad.

“Hey man-” he started to whisper as he looked to his left, only to find Alex already holding out a pencil to him, the pair sharing a smile. “Thanks.”

“I’m guessing the Queen ambushed you, that’s why you’re late?” Reggie asked from his right, Monroe calling on some of the lacrosse players to wheel in the old tv stand: the end of term had some benefits, at least, and the class in unison tidied away their books for the period.

“We’re supposed to head to her place after school, band practice, Julie’s orders.” Luke explained in a low enough voice that Monroe’s limited hearing wouldn’t catch.

“She told me this morning.” Alex agreed, his friends looking over. “What? Student Council happens before school, we were both here early.” He muttered, folding his arms and slouching a little in his seat. “Besides, I like her. I know Luke doesn’t but I do.” Alex took a moment before defending himself, gesturing to the band’s guitarist with a sickly sweet smile. “She’s you, but a little less irritating.”

“Hey!” Reggie interjected, to what Luke hoped was a counter attack. “Y/N is extremely less irritating.” Reggie corrected to the chuckles of himself and Alex, and the groans of Luke stuck in the middle. “You know she got me a Christmas present last week? When was the last time I got one of those from you, Luke?”

“Can it Peters, you know I’m broke.” Luke punched his friend’s arm playfully, and the conversation ended as some VHS b-rated movie started to play, leaving Luke to sit with himself, and wonder just how he was meant to focus on band practice that night in Y/N’s house.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of Christmas movies and idle chatter about their upcoming gig, and with the end of the school day, Alex, Reggie and Luke made their way towards the Pedraz house. Julie’s Tía’s house was only a few street south of the Molina residence. The neighbourhood was lovely: the houses were a little bigger, the lawns a little greener, the air a little sweeter, but as the three friends made their way over from school that evening, the sun already setting as half past four closed in on them, they were more than aware that the Christmas decorations weren’t the only artificial thing on the street.

Everything about the place was almost too perfect: the comforts and mess and the smell of chocolate that seemed to constantly circulate over the Molina home was lost to the Pedraz residence on Mercer Drive: Alex knew, his parents developed the area. There was no room for gum on the sidewalks or dry patches of grass, not a soccer ball or trampoline or anything fun in sight. The holiday décor was simple Christmas lights, all the same colour, all the same icicle effect design in a bright white-blue to match alongside the greyscale housing. Every inch of the Mercer development looked the same, almost like a movie set for one of those new Netflix movies, and it was almost disturbing.

Almost: because just as the three boys arrived at their destination, they spotted the only house on the row with paper snowflakes in the window and a snowman sat by the door; the only house, it seemed, to have anyone under the age of fifty living in it.

“You found it!” The cry came as the front door swung open, Julie rushing over and hugging each of the boys in greeting, careful to avoid the guitars Luke and Reggie had strapped to their backs, before taking Alex by the arm and leading him inside, towards that same Molina smell of chocolate that wafted from the house. “Hurry up, Y/N made cookies.” She added, talking to Reggie and Luke, the former wasting no time in rushing into the home and kicking off his shoes.

Luke found himself paused, what his friends believed to be his reluctance to enter the home was actually his taking a moment to examine: to notice the wreath on the doorway that was sprinkled in a coat of glitter; or the way each of the snowflakes in the front room window were cut with perfectly straight lines despite the intricate patterns; how beyond the blinds he could see the flickering Christmas tree lights.

“You coming in or what?” It was the second time that day Y/N caught Luke off guard, Luke following the sound of her voice to her frame in the doorway, arms folded over a white slip dress, paired with a deep green turtleneck under it, and white fluffy slippers. Her hair was tied up, a messy bun atop her head, that did little to make her appear taller. “You’re letting out the heat, Patterson.”

“Really? With how cold your personality is, I assumed your house was some sort of modern day ice palace.” Luke quipped back, making his way up the front lawn’s path and onto the little porch. Y/N seemed hesitant to let him in, almost as hesitant as he was to enter: he had never been to her house before, this was new territory. Their common ground at the Molinas was the limit of their out-of-school socialisation. “You look really nice in, uh, the dress is…” Luke started, in hopes of relieving the tension.

“Don’t strain yourself.” Y/N seemed to concede, walking back into her house and, by association, allowing Luke to follow her in and close over the door. He followed her straight to the kitchen, where Julie was sat on a counter while Alex and Reggie dug into the fresh baked cookies. “You can you the front room, there’s another batch of cookies in the oven that need to come out in seven minutes.” Y/N began to explain to the band, Reggie pausing the shoving of sweet treats into his mouth for a moment to listen. “There’s juice in the fridge, if you need anything urgent I’ll be in my room. Upstairs, second door on the right.” She informed, walking over and letting Julie latch onto her, forcing the girl into a hug from her little cousin.

“Don’t you want to stay and listen? We’re pretty good, you know.” Julie gave her best puppy dog eyes, and Luke couldn’t help but smile as he watched Y/N pinch the singer’s cheeks.

“I know you’re good, but someone has to plan the fundraiser you’re performing at.” Y/N reminded. As a member of the Student Council, and an upstanding citizen in general, she had been asked to assist in organising the community Christmas Concert, a concert she had also gotten her little cousin’s band on the set list for. “Besides, I like surprises.” She assured, picking up a cookie from the cooling rack and taking a bite as she headed upstairs, leaving the four friends to their own devices.

--

“Luke, come on man, what is going on with you today?” Alex asked, hours later, as the four sat at Julie’s kitchen table, pizza for dinner. Their rehearsal that had had been far from great, Luke had barely been responsive half the time, and when Ray called Julie about ordering pizza for the guys and her, ending their rehearsal and sending them back up the street of Julie’s house, their was plenty left to be desired.

“The last time you played that bad was the stomach flu of ’15.” Reggie added, his eyes widening. “Dude you better not be sick.”

“I’m not, I’m fine… It’s…” Luke sighed, taking another bite of his pepperoni slice, his brows furrowed. He didn’t know what was going on with him: if it was because of Y/N and being in her house and knowing she was around, or something else entirely, but the guys were right.

He had never played worse.

“Do you really dislike her that much?” It was just that asked the question, Luke looking across the table at his bandmate, perhaps his closest friend, only to see her looking back at him with sad eyes and a deep frown herself.

“Jules-” Luke started, but she cut him off.

“I know she can be stubborn and I know she can be a little overbearing at times, but I just thought if you guys spent more time together, got to know each other, you might get along?” Julie began, setting down her pizza and beginning to pace the kitchen floor like she often did when stressed out. She took a deep breath, her voice shaky as she started up again. “She can be an asshole sometimes, sure, but she got us the Christmas Concert gig, she suggests us to play every school event, she’s my cousin Luke! And I know you two don’t always see eye to eye on stuff because you’re competitive, or whatever, but can’t you just try and be-”

“I’m in love with her.”

Julie stopped pacing then, turning to look over at Luke as he sat at the end of the table, his head hung low as his hands rake through his hair.

“That’s not funny, Luke.”

“Good. It’s not a joke.” He responded, looking up at his friends with a pained smile, letting out a short, cold laugh. “I’m in love with Y/N, I’ve been in love with her for six years… Give or take.” He confessed to it, finally, and was greeted by the most confused expressions on his friends’ faces.

“But you hate each other!” Reggie exclaimed; of the opinion he was stating the obvious. “You fight with Y/N more than Flynn fights with Carrie, you compete against her at everything, you spend more time complaining about her than anyone else you know and you know me. And Carrie! This has to be some sort of joke, man, I mean-”

“You’ve proven to the entire world you’re incompatible, both of you. Like, if ever there were two people who despised each other more, who made the effort to despise each other more…” Alex trailed off, baffled, her and Reggie both so shocked that they turned to Julie for answers.

She stood at the end of the table, arms folded just like Y/N did, her eyes narrow as she examined Luke, watching his reactions to his friends’ words. How he screwed up his nose at the mention of their shared rival of Carrie Wilson, the way he smiled like Reggie’s ranting invoked fond memories, the shift to a frown when Alex mentioned ‘incompatibility’.

“He’s telling the truth.” Julie decided, Luke’s eyes locking with hers, her face softening as his was painted by surprise. He hadn’t expected her to back him up, but then again he hadn’t expected to tell them about his dilemma either.

“He is?” Reggie whispered, and Julie nodded, confirming her statement. “But… But how? When?”

“She beat me in the school talent show… Sixth grade.” Luke said softly, the memory one he held dear, at least that was what his smile told his friends. “I fucked up and messed up my chord progressions at the end of my guitar piece… And she came on stage and just sang her heart out.”

“If I remember correctly, that happened and then you put pudding into her gym shoes as revenge.” Alex added, still not totally convinced.

“I just took credit for that one… It was actually Dorothy Matthews.”

“That makes sense, she was a mean kid.” Reggie agreed with a nod of the head and an accompanying shiver. “And five inches taller than me for all of middle school.”

“She was really tall, wasn’t she?” Luke agreed, the pair sharing a laugh as Julie and Alex watched on.

“Of topic, guys!” Alex snapped after a moment, the room falling silent as the blonde though over his next words. “So, you’re in love with Y/N, have been for years… And why haven’t you just asked her out?” The question had the conversation back on topic, all eyes on the brown haired boy as he chuckled to himself.

“I have. Multiple times. But it always went wrong or she misunderstood and thought I was joking, and at some point I just gave up trying.” He shrugged, letting out a sigh of defeat that had Julie rolling her eyes.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Patterson.” She said with a smirk. “A complete and absolute fucking idiot.”

“That’s not very nice.” Luke pouted. “Can’t you all just feel sorry about my unrequited love life and forgive me for sucking today?”

“Alex, who do we often refer to as ‘Luke’s female equivalent’?”

“Uh… Y/N?”

“And Reggie, if we know how Luke reacts when he likes someone, would it be safe to assume that Y/N might react in the same way?”

“You mean how Luke has no idea how to ask a girl out and instead teased her for half a decade? Oh, definitely.”

“So… Maybe, Luke, you’ve been so blinded by your assumed rejection that you haven’t noticed that maybe, just maybe, my cousin is also in love with you?” Julie posed the suggestion, and Luke sat up straight.

“That’s insane.”

“Is it though? Alex already said you both were so persistent in showing you despised each other. Maybe, I dunno, she loves you too and doesn’t think you even like her because you do shit like put pudding in her gym shoes!”

“That was Dorothy Matthews!”

“Y/N doesn’t know that!” Julie exclaimed, and Luke fell silent.

It was minutely plausible, the line of reasoning Julie gave, but a part of him couldn’t believe it even though he wanted to. Y/N was perfect; she always had been perfect, and Luke was a musician really considering dropping out of high school before the year was out. How would someone like her… Why would someone like her even think to care about someone like him?

“You know, I feel like now is where we make the big plan, get those lovebirds together, then celebrate by playing the best show ever at the concert, right?” Reggie spoke up through a mouthful of pizza, the four sharing glances.

“It won’t work.” Luke insisted.

“And what if it does?” Julie countered, smiling over at him. “Luke, if you’re so insistent then let me and the guys handle it. You just need to show up somewhere the night before the concert, ok?” She proposed, with an eagerly nodding Reggie on her right and a still perplexed Alex to her left. “Worse comes to worst, we can perform a Mariah Carey cover without you and say you’re sick or something.”

--

It was the last thing Y/N needed, really it was. Julie’s name flashing up on her phone the night before the Christmas Concert, the voice urgent down the phone as she begged her to head home, that Julie would meet her there. It wasn’t like she could say no to her baby cousin in distress, far from it: she would be more than willing to punch the daylight out of whoever had hurt her Jules.

That was what Julie had been betting on, of course, and Y/N arrived home from the mall that evening to find her front door open and a note on her porch.

She rushed over, her brain scrambling to figure out just how to tell her Uncle Ray that Julie had been kidnapped, grabbing the note from the floor and tearing it open:

I’m fine, you’ll thank me later.

                            Julie xx

“Dios mio…” Y/N muttered: her relief integrated with annoyance. Of course her cousin had planned something to get her away from her responsibilities. A glance at her watch, and Y/N realised getting back to the mall in time that night before it closed wouldn’t be a possibility.

That’s when music started to play from inside the house.

“Is this some kind of joke?” She called into her house, noticing for the first time that candles that lit up the hallway in a trail towards her kitchen. They bathed her home in a warm glow, one far more welcoming than the chilly breeze from outside. And with nothing better to do, and curiosity peaked, Y/N stepped inside, closed the front door behind her and followed the trail.

“No joke, I’m afraid… I was just as shocked as you were.” The voice that greeted wasn’t the one Y/N expected: but then, no-one really expected Luke Patterson of all people to be standing in their kitchen, beside what seemed to be a candlelit dinner for two sat on the dining table. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You hungry?” Luke asked with a nervous chuckle, one that Y/N reciprocated. She was safe to say slightly confused, but she had no intention to refuse.

“Starving.” She smiled in response, one of those genuine smiles Luke always liked to see on her face, and Luke pulled out a chair for her to sit down. She accepted, taking a seat and quickly taking her hair out of it’s ponytail when Luke turned around to fetch a bottle of grape soda from the counter.

“Clearly none of our friends have fake IDs, so please pretend it’s alcoholic.” Luke apologised, but the words had Y/N giggling as he poured her ‘wine’ to accompany the pasta dishes that sat before the pair.

“I’m assuming Julie devised some sort of elaborate scheme to make us friends or something?” Y/N asked, and Luke scratched at the back of his neck, the dread already building in his stomach.

“Sort of, yeah.”

“Sort of?” Y/N asked, her brows furrowing as she waited on Luke’s explanation. He quickly picked up the bottle again with a shaky hand, clearly not the best of ideas, since the pouring of red grape soda into his wine glass soon turned to the toppling of said glass and the liquid spreading across the table.

“Shit!” Luke exclaimed, jumping up and surveying the mess he had made, opting to pull of his shirt in a split second decision to try and mop up the juice before it hit the grey carpets below. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I swear to God I’m not usually this uncoordinated.” He rambled, managing to mop up the juice without getting any on the carpet. His eyes moved up, to check in on the silent Y/N, who sat with clasped hands and wide eyes. “Fuck…”

“You’re shirtless…” She muttered, doing her best to look anywhere but Luke’s naked chest and abdomen.

“I am.” Luke agreed, watching the reaction with interest. H wondered for a moment, trying to assess whether she was being respectful of his body and not looking out of simple decency, or if she was embarrassed by the situation for him, or something else. “Y/N?

“Uh huh?”

“Want to tell me where the laundry room is?” He asked, holding back a laugh when she darted up and rushed towards the utility room at the back of the house, beckoning him to follow, grape soda soaked shirt in hand.

Y/N was quick to turn on the light and busy herself setting up the washing machine, seeming glad to have something to do from Luke’s perspective. When she held out a hand for the shirt, he passed it over, crossing to the sink to wash the stick of the soda from his digits as Y/N messed with wash settings.

“It’s uh… It’s just me and mom… I don’t really have clothes you could change into.” Y/N muttered, coming over to the sink to wash her hands free of grape soda too.

“That’s fine.” Luke responded, and physically felt Y/N tense beside him for a moment. “I mean, the wash will take an hour, drying another… Two hours isn’t so long.”

“Two hours is long enough.” Y/N retorted drying her hands and making a quick beeline for the door. A hand caught her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“Why so edgy, Princess?” Luke asked, unable to find it in himself not to tease the clearly wound up Y/N.

“None of your business.” She responded, looking him in the eye before wrenching her arm free and starting from the main floor of the house.

“I mean, I just want to know what I did wrong, Y/N.” He pleaded, sarcastic in tone, watching Y/N march and efficiently blow out the candles that lit up the kitchen and hallway. He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline from just being around her, or that fact he was just dumb enough to try it, but when Y/N finished blowing the candles out at the front door, Luke took his chance and pinned her in when she stood up.

“Let me go.” She demanded, keeping her chin high and a level head, here eyes locked with his. Had Luke not been more interested in answers, he would have lost himself in those eyes.

“Not until you answer my question. We’ll call it my Christmas present, since I know you got Reggie and Alex something.” Luke replied with a shit-eating grin, one hand coming to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, why so edgy, Princess?”

“Like I’d tell you, asshole.”

“Was it the food? The candles? You don’t like grape juice!” The incorrect guesses, the implied teasing, there was only so much Y/N could handle before she lost her temper.

“I don’t like you! I don’t like you appearing out of nowhere in my house and making dinner and having fire hazards everywhere! I don’t like you mopping up soda with your shirt and acting like you being shirtless is no big deal when it is! It really is…” She trailed off for a second, snapping back from whatever memory flashed before her eyes. “I don’t like you so close to me either! I should have you arrested for trespassing and indecent exposure, Patterson.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“And why not?”

“Because if you really didn’t want me this close to you, you would have punched me in the face by now.” Luke chuckled. “Everyone knows after Bradley Jacobs in sophomore year that you have a mean left hook.” He reminded her of the time she punched the kids making sexist comments: she had charmed her way out of suspension.

“You’re meant to be performing in my Christmas show tomorrow, I’d prefer you not to have a black eye.” The excuse was weak, they both knew it. A silence filled the air as they stood close, somewhere between fear and tension, of what kind Y/N didn’t want to admit. “Stop being an asshole, Luke. It’s not fair.”

“What isn’t?” He teased further.

“To do this when you don’t even like me.” She whispered, her eyes closing as she let out a shaky breath, only for them to open in surprise when a set of lips met hers. Luke took the chance, of course he did, and he was glad he did. The taste of her strawberry chapstick was like heaven, the kiss sweet and gentle and chaste. He moved himself back, adding to the space between them as Y/N leant back against the door, her pupils blown.

“Y/N?” He asked, checking in, trying to figure out if he’d be getting the same reward as Bradley Jacobs for his actions. Her name being said shook off the daze she was in, Y/N looking up at Luke, rather apprehensive, stood shirtless in her hallway after he had just kissed her out of nowhere.

“Why… Why didn’t you do that sooner?” She asked, quietly, a smile and giggle coming to her lips as they looked at one another, catching Luke by pleasant surprise.

“I didn’t think you liked me.”

“Didn’t think- Luke I asked you out two weeks ago and you said no!” She exclaimed through her laughter, another wave of giggles hitting her when Luke’s mouth formed into an ‘o’.

“The library trip…” He realised, letting himself laugh too. “I mean, you really weren’t specific, and you’ve rejected me too you know.” He replied, the smile settling on his face one that wouldn’t go away anytime soon.

Especially not when Y/N closed the space between them and pressed her lips to his.

With the realisation of their stupidity, a sudden desperation added itself to the equation. There was time to make up, actions to apologise for, tension to finally put to use, and neither were planning on stopping until they had won. The kissed turned hungry, tongues clashing as Luke’s hands came down to Y/N’s thighs and lifted her into his arms, starting the climb up the stairway to the top floor of the house.

Y/N wasn’t sure how Luke knew where her room was, she wasn’t sure if what she was doing would backfire on her in some way, but frankly, she didn’t care. As Luke’s hands melted against her body, pulling off her shirt as they fell to the bed, all she wanted was him. His lips moved from hers to her neck, nipping at the skin softly as he hands worked off her skirt, and Y/N’s worked on unbuckling his belt.

They were both in their underwear in a few moments, breathing heavy and looking at one another: Y/N laid back on the bed, Luke sat back on his heels at the end of the bed.

“Do you-”

“Yes.” Y/N replied before Luke had a chance to finish the question. “Do you?”

“God yes.” He agreed, moving up her body and pressing kisses against her skin, goosebumps forming wherever his cold lips hit. When his kisses reached her underwear, his hands wrapped around the flimsy lace material and pulled them off, the kisses continuing on the insides of her thighs.

“Jesus Luke, haven’t we teased each other enough?” Y/N cursed, the words coming out as a moan. It was a sound Luke had wanted to hear her make for so long, he had to put effort into not losing himself right then and there.

“Fair enough.” He conceded, taking no further hesitation in pressing his fingers against her damp core and his tongue to her clit.

Y/N found it hard to control the noises that left her mouth as Luke got to work pleasuring her, his fingers moving at a rapid and steady pace as his tongue teased her sensitivity, the curl of his fingers to her sweet spot only added on by the pressured of his tongue. She did her best to hold back, to quieten down, but in response Luke’s touch disappeared.

“I want to hear you, Princess.” He grinned, moving up the bed and taking her hands into one of his, placing them above her head. “Keep them there.” He ordered, and while Y/N was far from someone who took orders from anyone ever, if it meant Luke’s tongue would be back on her heat, she was happy to do just about anything he said.

As his tongue went back to her core, Y/N didn’t hold back on her moans. She’d thought about the exact event happening at least twice before, but had never pictured Luke at being so good with his mouth. It made sense logically, as a singer his mouth was his weapon, and… Her brain wiped clean as another moan escaped her, pressure building in the pit of her stomach.

“Fuck, Luke…” She whimpered, her back arching, her head falling back into the pillows.

“Cum for me.” Luke spoke in a low voice; his smirk ever present as his fingers took Y/N over the edge into euphoria. It was waves, the feeling a pure pleasure falling over her body, sending her legs trembling as Luke helped her ride out the high. He only moved once he was certain she had completed, slipping his fingers from her core as he leant over the bed, lifting up his jeans to find Y/N resting on her elbows, an eyebrow raised.

“What?” Luke asked as he retrieved the condom from his jean pocket. “A man’s got to be prepared.”

“You really thought I was that easy?” Y/N asked with a grin and she took the package from him and tore it open, taking her time to pump his shaft before rolling on the protection.

“Not that easy in general, no… But I can be…” Luke spoke and Y/N’s lay back and he lined himself up with her entrance, a twinkle in his eye as he pushed himself inside her and spoke. “Persuasive.” The moan elicited from Y/N seemed to prove his theory.

His movements were slow and gentle at first, both of them taking the time to get accustomed to one another, but with a nod from Y/N for Luke to continue, he took control. The pace became fast, thrusts powerful and deep, Luke making sure Y/N wouldn’t be forgetting the feeling of him inside her any time soon. His hands pinned down hers, pressing Y/N down into the bed as he pounded into her, relentless, both chasing their highs.

Y/N rolled her hips in time with Luke, earning groans from the man on top of her, taking the moment of weakness to flip them over, her hands now pining down Luke’s as he lay back on the bed, his face clearly stunned by the move she had pulled, though it didn’t last long. His eyes screwed shut as he let out a groan, his head rolling back at the feeling of Y/N riding his cock, each roll of the hips casting moans from their mouths.

“I’m close…” Luke muttered, looking up to see Y/N somewhere near completion as well. Her hands on his did little to combat his strength, taking control once more to grabbed Y/N’s thighs, thrusting upwards into her a rapid speed for them both to reach their highs through a strings of curses and cries of pleasure.

Y/N let herself fall limp on top of Luke as they both caught their breath, their chests rising and falling in time with one another.

“Well…” Y/N spoke first, biting her lip as she lifted herself off of Luke, giving him a chance to bin the condom. “That was…”

“The best Christmas present ever.” Luke whispered as they lay side by side on Y/N’s bed, the words sending them both into fits of laughter, ones Luke quelled by kissing Y/N gently.

“Yeah. Agreed.”

--

Tags:  @reggiesleatherjacket @parkeret @calamitykaty @crybabyddl @delicatelukepatterson @lukespatterson @kcd15 @siennanoelle01 @eries45 @lolychu @lazydaisy19 @reggieandthereggies @writerinlearning @mjflower @uhmitstori @walkingonshunshine @kristencoontz @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @ritz-hell-hotel @mishappend @dovegranger @dmcfarland1 @cherrymaybank @oswinsleaf​ @only-here-for-jatp​ @jatpfan99​ @n0wornever​ @bookdealer5 @epikskool  @thesweetestsinner @fangirlangioma @moviesbooksandfandoms @ohyoureaqueenbutuncrowned @saroo-hawks @charliessunset @bigdesi @avngrsinitiative @emotionalbruv  @korydickson @uglypeachh @rogersangel @independentgirl @mon-charmante @writingforphantoms @musicconversedance  @heimdoodle​ @-episkey-  @obxmermaid​ @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @simp4madi @aliciameix​ @kinda-just-chillin-here @blueyed-one @ghostlyb1tch @leahstypewriter @parkeret​ @lukereggies​ @hologramband​ @all-in-fangirl​ @daisiesforlacey​ @valntynegillespie​ @lukespaterson​ @dovesgrangers​ @sunsetswerve​ @sorryimricki​ @dani27297​ @talksoprettyjjx​ @imsydneywalker​ @katie-navarro​ @aydoubleu​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @magnet-girl​ @axen-gers​ @dpaccione​ @mjrsposts​ @starswereherspotlight​ @g7aesthetic​

#abby's twelve days of christmas #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson smut #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson fluff #luke jatp #jatp luke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #reggie peters #alex mercer #fluff #smut #fluffy smut

[miekasa]

AOT characters x their partner on social media is something I love thinking about omg. Eren is the number 1 menace, I swear, he likes keeping an aesthetic and he wants your face on his profile, and he wants to be in yours, and he will brainstorm for cool captions for you both 😭 Jean acts all shy, but that tall mf also lowkey feels the same way as Eren 😭. Mikasa is very relaxed and cute about it, she’s so effortless when it comes posting you on her feed, same with Sasha probably. Connie would post your funny faces 100% while Armin….blonde coconut I feel would be shy at first but is a fan of couple-y posts. Same with Erwin, and Erwin would add the cheesiest suburban dad captions like “my better half” or shit like “forever yours” 😭🥴😭 Hange is just all over, like they’ll be super unpredictable, from wildly funny to very touching stuff. Pick is just sweetness!! All around sweetness that can make you melt. Porco would be…actually I’m not sure, he seems like he’s in line with Eren and Jean 😭 Meanwhile, Levi would not care at all about social media announcements and “instagram official” and people outside his close circles find out about his partner on their tenth-year anniversary because they bumped into you both while you were out on a date 😭😭

No because you hit the nail on the head here anon!!

Eren and Connie are fiends and almost shameless in how much they want to be on your socials. If you do the thing where you record your food when you’re out to eat with Eren, he’ll interject into your video—“And me! She’s with me!! Show me!!” After some time—or if you tease him by purposefully leaving him out of the frame—he’ll just snatch your phone when you’re recording or taking pictures and makes sure to get himself with the front camera 😭😭 oh and you will be on his, it comes with the price of dating him, he loves posting videos that gradually zoom in on your face before you notice he’s recording.

Connie just photobombs everything. Even if just his eyebrows make in the frame, you better post it. He’s watching you. He loves taking funny selfies and posting them with absolutely no context, and videos too!! He reminds me of that TikTok of the guy who pans the camera to his gf laying in the grass is like, “We had a beach date, and, yeah I love her,” and pans the camera to his face, “I’m faster than her tho. We raced. But yeah, love her.”

Jean pretends like he doesn’t care if you don’t post him, but he cares 😭😭 he’s always willing to take a photo for you, but he wants to take them with you too!! He’ll not so subtly be like, “Hey, did you post those pics from the other day?” as a gentle “reminder,” and he’s honestly so cute you gotta give into him. He likes posting pics with you too, and claims he’s gotta keep it updated so he’s got something to show his mom—“She’ll think I’m making you up if I don’t have proof, babe.”

Armin gets nervous about posting you at first—the whole being publicly affectionate thing, plus the internet is forever, you know. But once he sees that he doesn’t necessarily have to post you guys holding hands or kissing all the time, he relaxes. Just a picture together, or a picture of you from one of your dates every once in a while is cool with him. He takes good candids and they’re his favorite to edit and make all pretty. He gets surprised whenever you post him, and he’s honestly not checking for it/on social media all that often, so he finds out through a friend like Sasha who’s bubbling, “Armin you guys are gonna make me jealous!! Your beach dates look so cute!!” And Armin’s a little confused, until she adds, “I saw the pictures on Insta!!” And now he’s slightly pink in the face.

Porco is… more likely than not recording you innocently vibing or minding your own business before he comes to bother you bye. He thinks your surprised face is so fucking funny and needs several video evidences of it. He gets grumpy when you get an off-guard of him, but just show it to him after and suddenly he’s like, “I look pretty good there, actually,” like yeah, dumbass, that was the point 🙄🙄 he posts his shit on Twitter tho, and is always acting like he doesn’t know you—“Girlfriend for sale, willing to trade for Breath of the Wild. At least $30 cash otherwise,” and thinks it’s funny when you threaten to block him. Or he’s subtweeting you when you CLEARLY follow him: “Anybody else know someone who falls asleep 30 mins into a drive?? No?? Just me??”

Erwin and his captions anon please I’m hollering. You know he uses the filters embedded into Instagram, too, and it makes some pics come out grainy/more dull. He comes questioning Hange with genuine curiosity, “How come your photos look so… bright? How do I do that?” Sir, open up VSCO and free yourself from the shackles of Sepia.

Levi could not care less about what and how much you post of him on social media, and his own is so scarcely updated; he really just has it so he’s not a complete ghost to the world, and to occasionally cure a fit of boredom. The pictures he posts are always nice tho, simple, cleanly edited and shot, and sometimes he’s not even in them. He doesn’t mind if you post him or not, but every once in a while he’ll stop by with a simple heart emoji in the comments. (To which Hange absolutely loses their shit every time and loves to joke about, “omgggggg are you and @leviackerman official???? 🤪🤪🤪)

Hange is the undisputed champion of photodumps and you cannot prove me wrong. Above all, they love posting a series of chaotic photos that tell a story—three slides dedicated to photos that caught you falling down; several photos back to back of you stuffing your face with food; frames of the both of you posing for a photo with the front timer but of course something made them topple over you. Their captions don’t help either, almost always unrelated from the disaster that just unfolded. Could have posted a photo dump of you two skipping (and falling) at the park and the caption is like “fun fact: a cockroach can survive up to five weeks with its head cut off!!” (The disconnect between the pics and captions always confuses Erwin. @e.smith: Very cool! But, what do roaches have to do with you guys looking like you broke your ankles? PS—is everybody okay?)

Mikasa is relaxed about posting you, and she lowkey really likes to be posted on your socials. She doesn’t say much about it, but she likes going back through your profile and looking and what you posted, and the comments from your guys’ friends being supportive. The pictures don’t necessarily spell out that you guys are Together, but that’s okay with her; she doesn’t need four pics of you guys kissing on her timeline to make her happy. She has lots of pictures she doesn’t post tho and you’d be shocked to find them, you gotta hype her up a bit to post them, “Mika you look hot here!!! The people need to see!!! Feed them!!!”

It comes naturally to Sasha, too. She likes documenting your dates with pictures and videos and has a blast editing them afterwards, too. Just AirDrop her the pictures you took and she’ll fix them up for both of you to post later. She’s a fan of silly matching captions and is always in your comments with a million emojis.

Pieck absolutely the sweetest girl. Her whole feed manages to naturally come out in soft filters and pastel colors. She always tells you she doesn’t have to edit a thing when you’re in the picture. Definitely posts photo dumps that include pics of food, sunrises, her cats, and a few off-guards of you thrown in there. Abuses the bugs and sparkly emojis in the captions.

Annie literally posts one pic a few months (by a few months, I mean like 11 months) into your relationship with the simple and upfront caption: “This is my girlfriend” and everyone is in the comments immediately bye. Berty is acting super surprised even tho he basically set you guys up, somehow Reiner genuinely didn’t know, and Sasha is clowning him for not catching on, and then he’s like “wait since when????? i thought they were just really good friends????” Mikasa comments a singular scissor emoji and it sends everyone into orbit, even Annie likes the comment.

#anonymous #annie and mikasa having this weird friendly but teasing but blunt dynamic on social media is the reason i’m still here #every once in a while annie comments on mikasa photos wirh something obvious like ‘your hair is getting longer.’ #and mika is like ‘yeah i know i’m growing it myself thanks annie’ #they’re so fucking funny bye #aot x reader #minicanons

[rainbow-arrow]

day five of lukadrien february is writing. an excerpt from what are the odds? bc wato my beloved

((wato is my post-show breakup! au-- where adr*nette happens for a solid six years post defeat and begins at their downfall. here’s from the first chapter!))

Luka woke to the sound of knocking on his front door, waking him enough to notice his phone vibrating, screen illuminated, “Fucking hell--” he mumbled, pushing himself up, squinting at the screen that read Incoming Call: Kitty 💌🐾. Catching his attention, he sat up, pressing accept; the blond’s late night, often inebriated calls were beyond enjoyable to witness, “Hey--”

But unlike the times past, he wasn’t met with laughter or an enthusiastic echo, he heard knocking echoing through the speaker, “Can you let me in?”

“Oh-- that’s you?” he responded, sighing as he stood up, “Yeah, hang on--” he hung up, tossing his phone back on his bed before folding his arms, his hallway much colder than the comfort of his bed, the knocking albeit faint, grew louder as he approached, “Hey– what’s wrong?”

“Mari and I--” he mumbled, shaking his head, covering his face, “I’m sorry-- it’s just with Nino out of town, and Chloe doing her thing, I really didn’t know who else to go to, but I know you really don’t want to talk about problems we have--” Luka sighed, pulling him into a hug, closing the door behind him, hoping his knocking didn’t wake his nosy neighbors, who would definitely bring it up the next time they ran into each other, “I’m s-sorry-- this was a stupid idea, coming over like this--”

“Shhh--” he hushed, placing his hands on his shoulders in hopes to calm him. No, he didn’t want to talk about their relationship. It seemed like every single time he saw Marinette in the past six months she had something to say about Adrien, despite his constant request to discuss literally anything else. The only thing he wanted to hear at this point was they were over.

“Marinette broke up with me.”

Luka sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, hoping maybe this was a dream. If not, fate definitely had an odd sense of humor, leading Adrien to seek out comfort in him. “No, she didn’t-- you two are fantastic together. This is probably all a big misunderstanding--”

“No, I thought that the last four times-- but we’re over, Luka. She said so.”

Adrien had a flare for the dramatics. And while most of the time Luka was beyond entertained and honestly, quite enchanted by them, 3am and half-awake was not how he wanted to handle them, “You can talk it through with her in the morning--”

“It’s just, all we’ve been doing is fighting about the stupidest things for months-- she has this vision of me that’s just-- it’s not me, Luka-- she’s always had this grand, far off idea of what I am, and it really reminds me of my father and-- and-- I just told her that and she didn’t like it--” Luka couldn’t blame her on that, to be compared to Gabriel Agreste was the worst kind of insult that could be dealt. But in a way, he understood where Adrien was coming from. All he heard during their relationship was just how amazing the blond boy was, it was only time before her idealization of him had to face reality, and it was genuinely shocking it took nearly six years, “I just want to do what I want. I want to make my own life choices-- it’s my life, fuck--”

Luka nodded sleepily. He was used to it at this point. From both ends of the couple, technically Marinette’s friend, he definitely couldn’t deny his preference for the other, “Hey, let’s get you some water--” he suggested, turning towards the kitchen, noticing Plagg had joined a very sleepy Sass, floating nearby, “Sorry I don’t have much cheese, but you’re welcome to whatever--”

The fact that Plagg was relatively unbothered by Adrien’s emotional state showed that this was, unfortunately, normal for the kwami to deal with, “Always my favorite miraculous holder,” he smiled, disappearing into the fridge to investigate.

“How’d you get let up?” he asked, looking back to the blond, hoping to get his mind off Marinette for a few minutes.

“No one asks a lot of questions if you’re pretty and crying--” he mumbled, watching the cup fill before sighing, “All I wanted was to be happy-- she used to make me so happy, Luka, what happened?” 

Definitely not wanting to get into it, he shrugged, offering him the cup as he leaned against the counter, “Time passes, people change, I guess.”

Adrien took a sip, shaking his head, “It’s not fair–” 

Luka sighed, running his hand through his hair, “It is life, though,” the blond pouted, opening his mouth, “Drink the water, kitty. I know you’re upset, but getting worked up again isn’t going to help anyone,” nodding, he took another sip as they watched his kwami emerge before eating through the remaining bit of cheese, “Glad to see you’re doing okay.”

Plagg shrugged, sitting on the counter next to Sass, who looked as tired as Luka felt, “They’ve been fighting a lot– they’re going to make up in the morning–” Adrien sniffled, shaking his head at his claim, “Oh come on, kid– you two have been fighting like this long before you two were dating– it’s just a lovers spat–”

“No, it feels different–” he mumbled, focusing on the liquid in the glass. Luka didn’t want to get his hopes up in any way, but he did hate seeing Adrien so upset, “It’s too much again–”

Clicking his tongue, Luka stood up, not wanting to hear any of it, “I don’t want to make the couch for you, kitty, so come on, let’s go to bed--” he yawned, holding out his hand as though there was even a chance the other would take it. He got a grumbled response, making him smile as the other followed behind him, “You got somewhere to be tomorrow? Hopefully not too early–”

“No-- a meeting at noon, but I need to talk to Mari before then--”

“Yeah, yeah, of course--” he mumbled, turning off the hallway light, “But you’re going to sleep first.”

#let's go #lukadrien february #lukadrien #luka couffaine #adrien agreste #wato #it's #adrinette salt #adrienette salt #as a heads up #**sorry sorry if this shows in the reg tag i do not mean to #mlb fanfiction #ml fanfiction #SIX YEARS y'ALL #writing bc i'd argue i'm better at it lol #fanfiction #fanfic #just a snippet #ml #mlb #miraculous ladybug

[alicenttully]

“sansa’s feminity is defined by social constructs that the man made world created. its materialistic and performative and restrictive. it harms all women. thats not to say women can’t... enjoy certain aspect of it but the objective is female subjugation and that cannot be disregarded.”

There is just a.... lot with that statement.

First off, you can really tell that OP does not understand Sansa as a character (or girls like her) when they say her femininity is “performative”.  

Sansa’s interests in particular things aren’t her attempting to put on some kind of “performance”, it is a natural part of who she is. it would exist regardless of whenever she is canon Westeros or in a modern AU. Could you argue that Sansa has been shaped/influenced by the women around her (Catelyn, Septa Mordane, Margaery, Cersei) Yes, to a certain extent. Because Sansa “being a lady at three” (and going by normal developmental stages, would have been in diapers not that long ago) again suggests to me this is who she is inherently. Using words “performative” suggests falseness and that doesn’t work because a proper look at Sansa’s chapters would understand that her interests/desires/behaviour is sincere.  

Regarding her femininity being “materialistic” …. In that same post, the OP defines Sansa’s femininity as “fancy dresses, pretty embroidery, floral perfumes, dainty desserts, slippers on polished floors, music and dancing, love stories, traditional marriage, courtly intrigue, smiling when you want to cry”

I look at the statement above with OP’s own definition of Sansa’s femininity… and I’m like, where’s the bridge?

This is where you actually need to understand the words that you are using instead of just throwing them in to make yourself sound revolutionary.  The word “materialistic” means “excessively concerned with physical comforts or the acquisition of wealth”.

None of that really applies to the things OP listed.  First off, a lot of the items they listed “floral perfumes, dainty desserts, music and dancing” could actually be considered a form of self-care- that is to maintain “one’s emotional and spiritual health.”  Looking after yourself doesn’t just mean keeping a proper sleeping schedule or drinking water because self-care is unique to the person. Self-care is about that person making themselves feel good.  It is not materialistic.  

Let’s move onto “fancy dresses and pretty embroidery”.  I don’t think liking “fancy dresses” makes you materialistic. If it is, then why are so many Arya stans insistent on arguing that Arya actually likes dresses? Because being materialistic is defined as being “excessively concerned” so in other words, “overly, extremely” – so basically obsession. Sansa loves pretty clothes, but not to the point of being obsessed.  She understands the need for her to dress in simple clothing in the Vale, even if she resents it.  She was genuinely surprised by the dress fitting because Cersei neglected her clothes.

“Pretty embroidery” … I would argue (and somebody correct me if I’m wrong) but embroidery is related to sewing… and that’s actually a really important, practical skill that transcends class lines (something I’ve talked about before)?  People in Westeros – even the rich- simply do not have the luxury where if they were me, the local shopping centre is 10 minutes away by car and at this centre, I have thousands of dresses to choose from right then and there (if money wasn’t an issue) Instead, the clothing that Sansa and Arya wear (both at the beginning of their stories and throughout), as well as the clothing of Catelyn, Cersei, Arianne, Margaery, Daenerys, Beth Cassel, Jeyne Poole, to the small-folk (i.e. Pia) also took the time to make- but the difference lies in that Westeros hasn’t undergone a textile revolution where clothing can be produced at a mass-scale.  That dress Sansa wore for her wedding? Took weeks to make, and if something had happened it the day before- they would not be able to get another copy of it elsewhere.

Furthermore, there’s also the fact that sewing circles/doing embroidery together can actually be a way for women to bond, share conversations, perhaps hatch plans because it is done within a feminine space that their husbands/brothers/fathers don’t cross.

“Music and dancing”. How? Why? Loving music and dancing don’t make you materialistic.  Loving music and dancing- things related to the arts, is deeply human.  It brings joy to people, helps us to connect with others. People often use music as a form of self-healing. The same for dancing, which enables people to express and tell entire stories/send messages through movement.

Fuck off with this “materialistic” bullshit.

“Love stories”.

LOL, what?  How is liking love stories “materialistic”?

And if it is… then why are Arya stans also huge Gendrya shippers? (Which I also ship btw, although I definitely wouldn’t say I’m invested. I can take it or leave it.)

“it harms all women. that’s not to say women…can’t enjoy certain aspects of it but the objective is female subjugation and that cannot be disregarded.”

The issue with that statement is that it is IMO putting the blame entirely on women/girls who happen to enjoy these things naturally (for example, I like to wear pretty clothes because it makes me feel good) rather than the men in their society with the actual power.

Ned Stark might have indulged his 9year old with sword lessons but it is abundantly clear through his POV that he saw it as a passing interest. “She would tire of it soon”. Tywin wouldn’t even consider doing the same for Cersei.  Selwyn Tarth finally relented after Brienne broke three-four betrothals.

Sansa or any girl liking “pretty dresses, perfume, music, dancing, love stories” is not the thing driving female subjugation. You know what I tend to think of when reading the books? I think of how girls can be forced into marriages they don’t want/have their entire futures decided for them at the age of 11/12, be subjected to marital rape, queens being abused by their husband’s Kingsguard, a sex worker being murdered in bed, an eighteen year old girl’s virginity treated as a contest, that same girl being told by Tarly not to look to him for justice if she gets raped,  the fact that smallfolk women if Kingslanding had fallen would have been at most risk of violence/rape, the fact that women can be excepted to keep having more children even though it would be dangerous for them to do (Naerys, Alysanne)

Just… the amount of conscendation and arrogance in that statement (as well as the entire post) is staggering.  imagine thinking you’re writing some sort of feminist post only to degrade women/girls like sansa because they don’t fit your way of being. you do realize you are no different than the adults in arya’s life who keep trying to force her to be someone she’s not? smdh

#sansa stark #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #got #anti arya stans #anti arya stark #not really but to be safe #anti gendrya #ive often seen this post floating around and its always made me cringe #anti asoiaf fandom

[writingtoforgetreality]

Guarding Your Heart (Helmut Zemo x Reader)

Request: THE ENDING WAS PURRRRRFECT i'm gonna miss tfatws sm. I don't know if on the raft they allow inmates to be visited but let's imagine it: you visiting zemo for the first time since he was sent there, a little angst cuz you can't have skin-to-skin contact anymore but you two talk about some things and how life is going, if everything is okay 🥺🥺🥺 (by anonymous), [Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: Inmate: Helmut Zemo. Accommodation: The Raft. Visitors: Generally prohibited. Exceptions: Maintaining a friendly relationship with an Avenger.

Words: 3,547

Warnings: angst, jail (is that a warning?), fluff, feels, my emotions, I didn’t use any pronouns!, TFATWS spoilers, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Countless attempts from your side had been ignored. You were an average citizen. No superpower, no higher-up. Ordinary. It appeared that the Raft did not think highly of such people. Not when they proposed to visit an inmate. And definitely not when said inmate was the same Baron who broke out of a high security jail in Germany. But he was yours. His imprisonment in Europe had not been as restricted. For his sake, you had moved to the other end of the world. Simply so you could spend a bit of time together every day. Your old life had been completely abandoned. And for almost ten years, Germany had been your home. Until Sam & Bucky entered your lives once again. Though you started off on the wrong foot, this time around, you were more than grateful for their presence. Without them, especially without the former Winter Soldier, Helmut would still rot away in that tiny prison cell. Your time together had been adventurous. Often hazardous. Life threatening. In the end, you made it out alive. Coming back stronger than ever before.

It could have been a fairy tale. A long awaited fulfillment of a seemingly impossible dream. Were it not for the Wakandans crushing your reverie at the worst place imaginable. The Sokovian memorial. Where you held one of his clothed hands in both of yours. Shedding tears, remembering his old life. His wife. His son. You would never replace them. At the same time, you did not even intend to. His past was part of him & made him to the man you loved endlessly. Bucky did not receive your blame. Were you mad at him for handing Helmut over to the Wakandans? Absolutely. Then again, the super soldier was the reason why he was out of jail in the first place. It was a fine line between resentment & gratitude.

Luckily, throughout the various missions you had been a part of, you gained Sam’s trust. He took a liking in you & when he saw you struggling, he was eager to help. Obviously, the Raft yielded when the Captain America himself transmitted an inquiry. Only a few hours passed & you were on your way to Helmut’s current accommodation. A small jet that had been arranged just for you. In this instant, you did not feel average anymore. For a second, you experienced what it would feel like to live this kind of lifestyle. The one of a Baron. Why you were still unfamiliar with that even though your boyfriend was rich? Truthfully, you did not touch his money at all. It was his & when he did not have access to it while imprisoned, you did not dare using it either. Loyalty. Of course Zemo suggested utilization for you but you declined politely. After reasoning enough, he swore he fell even harder for you. The staunchness of you was remarkable.

It was bizarre. Entering the Raft with multiple workers circling you. You were told that these were the security measures that had to be met if someone wanted to visit an inmate. To you, it sounded like a poor excuse but you would not speak that thought out loud. Prisoners needed social contact. Physical contact could not be provided, that much you understood. But one would go insane without having the opportunity to see another human being that was not a guard working here.

Your body was a mess. Heart hammering at your chest with such a force, you believed it would burst any second. Irregular breaths left your lips. Trembling hands fiddled with each other in order to prevent others from noticing. Weak knees that threatened to no longer stabilize your body weight with each step you took forward. To bystanders, you probably appeared as a put-together person. On the inside, there was chaos. Nothing but chaos. How would you react? How would he react? Would you have privacy? An audience? Observers? Innumerable questions flooded your mind. Seemingly, having only one purpose. To drown you. To drown every bit of you. But you would not succumb that easily. You were so close to where you wanted to be. The fight could not end now. Disappointment would cloud you. More importantly, it would cloud him.

Four guards. It took four guards to guide you through the facility. To your surprise, the insides radiated a calm, almost content atmosphere. The walk lasted an eternity. At least, that was what it felt like. Your Helmut occupied a cell at the very end of the building. No explanation had been given to you as to why they decided to accommodate him there. Maybe, with Sam’s assistance, you could change his quarters & move it further up to the entrance. That way, if you visited again, you would not have to waltz through every narrow hallway. Listening to the whimpers of some inmates. The screams. The bashing. The…pain. There was only one person here who you were familiar with. Helmut. The others? You had no idea what crimes they implemented to end up at a place as dark as this.

“He’s at the end of that corridor.” one of the guards motioned for the others to leave you alone. His hand gestured to a tall white door that had a small built-in window. Your sight was obstructed by the frosted glass of it.

“Will you join me?” you questioned, wanting to prepare for it if he had to accompany you.

“Generally, yes.” he breathed out, putting his hands in the pockets of his uniform. Then, he sighed quietly & eyed you once more. “But since it was requested you speak to him alone, I’ll leave you be.”

“Whose request was that?” your eyebrows furrowed. The Raft was not an institution for exceptions. At first, the mere thought of getting to see Helmut again was an impossibility.

“Captain America’s.” he stated monotonously. The way his face scrunched up made it obvious that he was less than pleased about this decision. As soon as you were out of here, you had to call Sam & thank him for making this feasible.

“Oh.” it was all you could muster at the moment. There was an overwhelming feeling you had to handle. And it was not exactly one of your specialties.

“The door is unlocked. Walk down the hallway & the cell will come into view. If something happens, there’s an emergency button that should be operated whe-“ you stopped him during his speech.

“Thanks for your concern but I’ll be just fine.” a genuine smile formed on your face. The guard nodded at you, still slightly uncertain, & turned around without another word. Letting the uncomfortable silence envelop you. Your legs were frozen in place, preventing you from running to him. Maybe it was the thought of having to say goodbye again. As wonderful as it was that you were allowed to visit him, the concept of abandoning him broke your heart. The difference between the jail in Germany & this one was that you could not linger close by. The trip lasted for a while. Daily visitations were out of the question.

Slow but steady steps moved you over to the door. A hand raised to the doorknob. The coldness of it grounded you the slightest bit. You had to take a few deep breaths, just like he had instructed you multiple times before, in order to reduce the fast, almost unhealthy pace of your beating heart. Your hand twisted the doorknob to one side & when you heard the lock click, you pushed the door open with your entire body weight. Otherwise, you would have been too weak to do so. Bright lights had you squint your eyes. A hand was used as a shield to block most of the luminosity. When your eyes adjusted to the different setting, you straightened your back & brushed non-existent dust from your clothes. This motion gave you something to do with your hands. It was a much needed distraction. You held your head high, looking straight forward to the very end of the corridor. At the sides, the walls were painted bright white. Almost too bright for your liking. It resembled a hospital & you had never enjoyed them. The consistency of it was broken with the glass wall you were staring at. The one which was straight ahead. His cell, you figured. But there was no silhouette you could make out. Considering the size, you should have noticed him already. But he was not there. So you no longer moved in slow motion but jogged over to the pane.

Fast footsteps echoed in Helmut’s ears. Time was fluid in a jail like that. But it had not been long since a guard brought him breakfast. Whoever visited him now, it seemed to be urgent on the basis of the fast pace they approached. He scooted closer to the frigid wall behind his bed. Something he did to mess with the employees here. At least it gave him something to do. Besides reading tons of books & listening to the radio that had been prepared for him. That was luxurious enough for an inmate. All of a sudden, it was silent. Too quiet for his liking. The next thing he heard was music to his ears.

“Helmut?” your broken voice whispered & filled the room. Was he turning hallucinational? Nobody would blame him in a place like this. But not even his imagination could recall your softness so perfectly. He stood up, carefully, & widened his eyes at the sight of you. There you were, on the other side of the transparent wall. Separating the outside world from the box he found himself in.

“(Y/N)? You’re here.” no time was wasted. Helmut dragged his body as close to yours as his cell allowed him to. One of his hands touched the smooth surface & you mimicked his actions. There were tears threatening to escape but you tried everything to keep them locked inside. “Don’t cry.” the volume of his voice had lowered. Nobody could listen to you in here but it almost felt illicit to talk at a normal volume.

“I’m sorry.” you chuckled shortly, your free hand coming to your face to wipe at your cheeks. How he wanted to be the one to touch your tender skin. To have you lean into his palm.

“What are you sorry for?” the proximity was given yet unattainable. Your gaze averted, staring at the pavement floor.

“I don’t know…For everything?” you shrugged your shoulders, laughing at how incomprehensible you sounded. Helmut shook his head. That was how he knew you. Always being the one to carry everyone’s burden on your own. Though you did not need to.

“Stop that.” it was an order but not a forceful one. One that eased the tension immediately.

“Okay.” you mouthed.

The floor was everything but comfortable but you made do. Sitting cross legged opposite of Helmut was dreamlike. In your dreams, you had skin-to-skin contact but that delight had been denied. Simply having him next to you was enough for now. Helmut had his elbows on his knees, watching your every move. Reminiscing every small detail he could get a glimpse of. But there was nothing new he came across. He remembered you like the back of his hand. Sometimes even more precisely than you did yourself. And yet, his observation resembled the first time when his warm, chocolate brown eyes fell onto your frame. Usually, you handled his stares well but something inside of you told you to inquire.

“What?” you asked with a playful, teasing tone. His eyes locked onto yours. You giggled at his confused state.

“Is there a problem?” Helmut turned insecure for a second. And people who knew him were aware that he was barely ever uncertain.

“No, not at all.” you shook your head to emphasize your words. “Just…you’re staring.” you called him out. It made him laugh, his head falling back briefly.

“Is it forbidden to stare?” one of his eyebrows perked up. “I believe most people are flattered by the attention.” though he played the serious act quite well, you could tell that he was joking.

“You’re awful.” you laughed at his antics.

“I am aware.” he saw you opening your mouth to disagree with him but Helmut was faster. “(Y/N)?”

“What is it?” you rested your intertwined hands in your lap. But he had noticed the trembles. He had noticed you struggling. And he realized that it was because of the position you were currently in.

“How is it like? Outside, I mean.” he skillfully changed the topic before the atmosphere between you two could shift in a negative way.

“You have a radio.” your finger pointed to the one sitting on a small table inside the cell right next to a stack of read-through books. “I’m sure you have an idea of what it’s like.”

“But I would love to hear it from you.” there was an encouraging smile on his lips that you could not resist, no matter what.

“Well, Karli’s dead. Sharon took care of her.” you began & watched him nodding approvingly. “Bucky finished his amends & it really looks like he’s doing much better. He’s taking baby steps but he’s doing well.” you could not suppress the small smile when you spoke about the super soldier. Helmut was not jealous. Bucky & you had become fast friends over time.

“Could you deliver a message from me?” he continued after a hum from you. “Tell James that I am happy for him. And thank him from me.” that warmed your heart. All of the previous disputes aside, they had started tolerating each other. You would not go as far as calling them friends but what was not could still be.

“I will.” you promised with certainty. “Right, um…Sam is Captain America. This job is made for him. I truly believe, with him, we’ll achieve great things.” you quieted down, not exactly knowing how to continue.

“So you established Sam’s & James’ success. But what about you?” he read you too easily. No other person saw through you like he did. That affirmed the close bond you two shared even further.

“What about me?” a phony dumfounded expression was plastered on your face.

“How have you been doing?” it was a question with so much emotion & care hidden beneath, it brought tears to the corners of your eyes instantly. Your attempts to blink them away were gratuitous. They started rolling down over your cheeks. So fast, in fact, you could not even wipe them away with your sleeves in time. Helmut’s heart broke at this sight of you. It was clear as day that you experienced a rough patch. The cause of it was him being imprisoned, that much he knew. “Talk to me.” he whispered & cursed the guards for not granting his partner access inside his cell. But they thought he would plan another escape. At the same time, they were unaware that he would not take the risk to jeopardize your safety with a second try.

“It’s…” you took a deep breath to steady your voice & avoid the wavering & cracking. “It’s been hard.” you admitted quietly. “Without you.” you finished. Your eyes flickered up to his face. His look brought you the tiniest bit of contentment. The way his body language could comfort you in such a way was prodigious.

“Love.” the nickname gained your entire attention. It was like all of your worries melted away by the simple sound of it rolling from his lips. The tears did not stop but they were mixed with happiness now. Gratitude that you shared this moment with him. You were here. Helmut was here. Similar to how it used to be. Yet, entirely different. “Please look at me when I tell you this.” & you obeyed without a second thought. “You are my world. If I could change this situation, trust me that I would instantly. I understand your struggles. And I abominate that I cannot dispose of your demons. Or make them part of my own. Your pain causes me aching ten times worse. It is painful seeing you like this. My love, you must promise me one thing.” it was hard for him to get through this speech without his voice fading at the emotions he was experiencing. But he had to stay strong for you. It would only cause you more distress if you noticed him showing how affected he truly was.

“Anything, Helmut.” your reply followed straight after. If he asked you for something, you would do your very best to make him proud of you.

“Promise me to take care of yourself. I would hate to watch you disappear because of me.” the sincerity assured you how important it was to him.

“Helmut, I don’t think I coul-“ he shushed you when he spotted what you were intending to do.

“Promise me, my love.” he repeated & you closed your eyes briefly, releasing another wave of tears.

“I promise.” your eyelids slowly opened & you could detect the relief in his at your words.

“How did you persuade them into visiting an inmate?” the atmosphere had shifted to a relaxing feel once again. And his attempt to start another conversation was welcomed.

“I didn’t do anything. Though I’ve tried multiple times…Sam came to my aid.” you chuckled at the memory & the excitement you emitted after his call. The news had been the best in a very long time.

“Ah, of course, if Captain America requests a visitation…” Helmut started.

“The chiefs are on board in an instant.” you finished his sentence & the both of you laughed at the tomfoolery.

“Means that Sam is the reason for your stay.” you confirmed his thought process quietly. “Please express my gratitude for him as well.”

“Will do.” you wanted to maintain the dialogue with him but a loud noise from behind you caught you by surprise. The same guard who had instructed your appropriate behavior inside these hallways was back. There was a look on his face you could not quite identify but it left you uneasy.

“Time’s over.” the statement felt like someone stabbed you with a knife. Not once, not twice. Multiple times to cause as much damage as possible. Helmut then stood up from the floor, gesturing for you to do the same. The moment you were on your feet again, your knees were close to giving out. Digging deep inside, you mustered all the strength you had left & fixed your posture. You did that to avoid radiating a fragile appearance. “Bid your goodbyes, I’ll wait by the door.” the guard took his place in the doorway, waiting for you to approach him. Your body faced Helmut’s & you rested both of your hands on the glass in front of you. He mimicked you & if it were not for the transparent border, you would have touched.

“I’ll miss you.” you whispered as you pressed your forehead against the boundary.

“I will miss you more.” he followed right after. “But you are always here with me.” one hand rested above his heart. Goodbyes were difficult. Especially with the ulterior motive of not returning the following day. It would most likely take a while until you would face him again. Secretly, so nobody could discern what you were doing, you pulled a small paper out of your pocket & pushed it through one of the many, tiny holes in the glass wall. It dropped to the floor on the other side. Helmut sent you a questioning glance which you retuned with a soft, gentle smile. Coughing behind you brought you back to reality. You had to leave. As much as it hurt, you turned your back to Helmut & distanced yourself from his cell. Arriving at the exit, you looked over shoulder one last time. One last time, your eyes locked. One last time, you let your tender features speak. One last time. While you walked away from him, he picked the small paper up from the ground. Unfolding it with much care, his eyes got stuck on three little words that were neatly curved in your handwriting. So when your eyes met, he returned that favor without anyone realizing it. His lips moved & you saw him mouthing that same phrase back. Your smile grew wider, as did his. And then you were gone. Of course, you would come back. And with Sam’s help, it would probably be sooner rather than later. He stared at the door where you just walked through. His gaze then turned to the paper in his hands. Never would he let go of it again. He would treat it like it was made out of gold. To him, it was. And it was worth so much more. The feeling it triggered inside of him could not be purchased. It could only be provided by a special someone. That special someone was you. Reading through the note one more time, he sat down on the uncomfortable mattress. The displeasure was ignored for now. For a minute, he bathed in the loving emotions you brought to him.

“I love you. -xo(Y/N)”

Published (05/09/2021) by Cathy

✨MY Ko-fi PAGE✨

Tags: @there-will-be-p-e-a-c-e, @simply-skeletons, @weareironmanbitches, @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @trelaney, @bibliophilewednesday, @msmarvelsmain, @takacsgram, @ya-boi-is-dead, @deamus-liv, @therenlover (thanks for your support <3)

#helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo #zemo x reader #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #reader insert #reader imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #one shot #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #disney original series #disney #disney+ #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #sam wilson #bucky barnes #the raft

[wandsandwheezes]

Family Man | F. W

TW // mentions of prem kids, pregnancy, children but mostly pure fluff

Taglist ✨ @witch-and-a-half @weasleysflowr @hufflepuffgirly @theweasleysredhair @wand3ringr0s3

If you asked Fred Weasley what his pride and joy was, people would usually expect him to beam proudly about the success of the shop with his brother, nevertheless, when he smiles fondly and says 'Thea Weasley' people are more often than not surprised.

Fred loved his Daughter so much that words couldn't describe how much happiness filled his heart every time he saw her. The second she was born, she had him wrapped around her little finger, a father that would do anything for her.

When you and Fred married, you were quick to fall pregnant with your first child, a Daughter, named after your Mother but the absolute spitting image of her father, however her soft strawberry blonde locks curled into ringlets, a trait that seemed to sprout as soon as her hair was long enough.

"How're my girls doing?" Fred whispers, pulling off his jacket, having just walked in from a day at the shop. You're sat with your daughter nestled into your side, about an hour or so deep into a nap. Fred gently scoops her up, not before pressing a small kiss to your forehead with a sweet hello, her little arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, falling back asleep instantly.

He took her up to her bed, tucking her in underneath her covers before pressing a gentle kiss to her hair, "goodnight my sweet angel, sleep well"

"I wish she'd stop growing," He says, joining you on the sofa, allowing you to cuddle into his side, his hands moving to play with your hair as he kicks off his shoes. "one day I'll wake up and my little girl will be an adult."

Laughing gently, you trace circles on his chest, feeling relaxed against him, you reminice of the moments you'd had together as teenagers, talking like this about your futures, getting married, how many kids you'd wanted and how you'd both give anything to do all of that with each other.

"Unfortunately Freddie, all they do is grow," You move to press a kiss to his cheek, nuzzling your nose into his neck for warmth, causing him to wrap his arms even tighter around you.

Little did you know that day, you were already pregnant with your second & third weasley children - the twins, like their father but one boy and one girl, Lee and Winnie. Identical apart from the eyes, the girl like her fathers and the boy much like yours, both with signature weasley hair.

Not even a few months after the twins you found out you were having another son, Billy who looked much like his uncle Bill did as a child, as Molly had pointed out hence his name. You originally wanted to call him Jamie but when you met your little boy for thr first time, both you and Fred decided that Billy was definitely more fitting.

finally your youngest daughter, Arabella. She was a gift that none of you had expected, after some complications after having Billy, you didn't think that having another child would be on the cards again. You found out you were pregnant a week or so before Fred's Birthday you had taken test after test, and even a trip to St Mungos to make sure, but as your doctor assured you, Arabella was on her way.

The thing about little Bella was that she was a tiny baby, a premature birth. When she was born she was so fragile looking and hearing her cries broke Fred's heart. The doctors said that she was quite frankly a miracle, making her just another pillar of pride for your adoring husband.

Having five children with Fred was an interesting experience, the house grew louder and louder and soon became like a second Burrow, children in and out of the house, magic everywhere. It truly was reminiscent of both of your childhoods. Despite having all the children to look after, he loved all of them with his whole heart and nothing less.

Your kids loved loved going to see Fred's parents and getting to spend time with Uncle George and Uncle Ron it was heart-warming to watch your family love the people you chose to be your family. Winnie absolutely adored being around Ginny and Lee wanted nothing more than to be like his Uncle Harry.

When Thea's Hogwarts letter came, Fred genuinely thought he was going to have a heart attack, "Merlin, Y/N, my little girl isn't old enough to be going to Hogwarts!" he was sat across the table from you eating his lunch, The sounds of Lee and Winnie bickering as Billy quietly draws and Arabella sits in your lap, listening into the conversation. To you, you were watching your babies grow up right before your eyes but to Fred they were always his babies.

"Freddie, my love it'll be the twins next, Lee wont shut up about getting to see Uncle Harry at school." you laugh, playing with the little curls on Arabella's head, a trait inherited from her oldest sister, "give it four years and our Bella will be off on her first year at Hogwarts with all of her siblings."

"I don't even want to think about that, I really don't know how Mum did it, sending us off one by one." you laugh lightly looking at your husband with a small smirk, "From what i heard from Molly, she was all but kicking you onto the platform, apparently you and George were a nightmare"

"We so were not!" he defended, feigning fake offense, rolling his eyes and taking a bite from his sandwich. "I think we were absolute golden angels" you raise an eyebrow at him, shaking your head, "You can be a golden angel and take Thea with you to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get her supplies, I don't fancy a day trip to London with the whole weasley clan just yet!" you laugh, he nods finishing up his food, the plate finding it's way to the sink, being washed up magically like at the Burrow, he presses a kiss to your hair, heading quickly to step into his father shoes, only to break up the growing argument between the twins.

You sat, content in the family you created, praising your younger self for putting up with all of Fred's antics because really, you were the luckiest girl on earth, with the greatest man alive, a loving father and the best Husband.

The time came to send Thea off on the Hogwarts Express, Molly had agreed to look after the rest of the children as you sent off your oldest, you were crying with fred as you hugged your little girl goodbye before she got onto the train. "Remember, Thea, it doesn't matter what house you get put in, and if you need someone to help you, you find Ted or Uncle Harry and they'll help you out." she laughs, wrapping her arms around her father's neck giving him a long hug. "I'll be fine, Dad, after all, I've got the weasley name to live up to!" he smiles proudly at his daughter, i give her one last kiss, giving her a couple of galleons for the train, "I love you, Thea." she hugs me again, "Love you too, Mumma!"

"One down, Four to go." you joke, leaning into your husband's side as you wave the train off, "At least the twins will have each other and Thea next year, the poor girl is all on her own!" you shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'm sure she's already made friends, she's much like you when it comes to being outgoing..." he smiles, calming down a little, "I can't believe we've just sent our first off to Hogwarts." you hug him gently. "Neither can I, Freddie, neither can I."

#fred and george #fred weasley #fred weasley fic #harry potter #weasley twins #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader

[manonblaqkbeak]

How We Met

here it is, my last fic for rowaelin month! thank you so much to everyone that’s read, liked and commented on my fics, it’s been so much fun reading and writing these last four weeks! i’m glad to know that i’m not the only one that is in dire need of more rowaelin content (srsly, i would pay sjm a truck load of money for a strictly rowaelin book bc i miss them sm)

here’s part 4 for the little series i had going on. i was so tempted to make this an angst piece but held back lol.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

cw: none

1.8k words

enjoy and thank you again!!! :) 💕💕💕💕

Gathering the ingredients for the cake that she and Ophelia were going to make for Rowan, Aelin plopped them down on the kitchen counter and tied her and her six year old daughters hair back. Even in the kitchen light, Ophelia's hair was a vivid shade of silver and when she turned to look at her mother, the golden ring in her eyes were just as bright.

“Up, mama!” Ophelia asked, pointing to the step ladder that Olive made for her little sister in her woodshop class at school. Getting it off from atop the fridge, Aelin and Ophelia started their baking session for today. It wasn't often that Aelin baked cakes from scratch but it wasn't every day that her firstborn turned sixteen—not that Aelin could really comprehend that her Olive was sixteen—but Aelin wanted to do this for her, wanted to make something special.

She hoped that it wasn't going to taste as bad as the last cake she baked. Rowan had been sick afterwards and didn't go to work the next day.

That was five years ago, so surely with gaining wisdom as people said when others got older, her baking skills grew too.

“Where did everyone go?” Ophelia asked, her little tongue poking out as she helped Aelin sift the flour.

“To get dinner for tonight. We're having Ollie's favourite.” Which was cuisine from the Southern Continent, there was a restaurant that specialised in the spicy food, and Aelin couldn't wait—she and Rowan often tried to recreate their favourite recipes, but it was never right, so Olive wanted to have the genuine stuff for her birthday and not her parents shoddy attempts.

Not that Aelin could blame her.

They continued making the chocolate cake, Ophelia babbling on about her day at school, when her little one asked, “How did you and papa meet?”

Aelin blinked at the sudden question, but answered it nevertheless. “At the grocery store.”

Ophelia furrowed her brows, and with the way her nose scrunched up, she looked so much like Rowan that it made her heart sing. When Aelin first realised that she was pregnant, she was nervous, they had only been married for seven months and while they spoke about having a child of their own, she didn't think it would happen so quickly—but Rowan's enthusiasm melted away her fears. She would never forget his tears of joy when she showed him the pregnancy test, his beaming smile when they heard her heartbeat for the first time. Aelin would walk through hell, as long as Rowan was by her side, or waiting for her at the end.

It wasn't always perfect, however, they had their ups and downs like every long-term couple, they had moments where it felt like they were walking on tightrope, either because of their own personal issues or marriage issues, or when Egan was fourteen and completely lashed out at Aelin, accusing her of replacing his mother—but she worked with her son, telling him that she had never intended to do that, that Lyria would always be the woman that brought him into the world, and that Aelin was raising him. Her heart broke in two at his pain, but she understood, he grew up with photos and stories of Lyria.

Or when they had the awkward conversation when Olive was eleven and asked why she didn't look like Rowan, and Aelin had explained her story, about Sam being her biological father, but he had given them space for Rowan to raise her instead. That had lead to brooding silences and confusion, but otherwise, Olive still saw Rowan as her dad, but she did ask from time to time about Sam, what he was like and what he was doing (the last update Aelin received from him via email that his wife was pregnant with their second child. Aelin was so happy for him that he was able to have a family, a feat that was made easier since Arobynn had been dead for years by this point) and that she would like to meet him properly one day; Aelin had kept that to herself, not wanting to tell Sam in case Olive changed her mind—Aelin hoped that she wouldn't.

Overall, their life together was what she needed, she went to bed each night loved and fulfilled. It was better than what she might have had with Chaol all those years ago, she was fairly certain that if she had married him, it wouldn't have been a long marriage.

“How did you meet at the food store?” Ophelia asked, her brow still furrowed as she and Aelin stirred the cake batter. It surprisingly smelled good.

“I needed something from a high shelf,” Aelin said, “and I couldn't reach it. Your papa was only a few feet away from me, so I asked him to get it for me.” She might have also subtly ogled him as his shirt exposed his tanned skin, and Aelin had damned near swooned at the sight of his six pack.

“Did you get married at the food store?”

Aelin laughed at the question. “No, we got married at the beach. And then you arrived not long afterwards.” Sometimes they wanted another, but things financially were going so well that they didn't want to jeopardise that by adding another mouth to feed.

“Can you have another wedding?” Ophelia asked, looking at her mum with wide eyes. “So I can go? Please?”

“I'll talk to your daddy about it, but I like the sound of that.” Kissing her daughters forehead, they continued. Just as they were putting the cake in the oven and the icing mix in the fridge, the front door opened and three booming voices infiltrated the house and the mouth watering goodness of food.

Aelin's eyes widened at the amount of food that Rowan piled on the table. It looked like they were feeding a small army and not a family of five.

Ophelia helped her older brother set the table, Egan ruffing her hair as he recounted their little adventure to the restaurant.

As they sat down, Aelin mentioned Ophelia's request. Rowan pretended to mull it over as their daughter pleaded, giving her best puppy dog eyes. It didn't take for Rowan to relent—he really had trouble saying no to her—saying that a second wedding was a great idea.

Ophelia squealed in delight and squealed even more when food was placed in front of her (she was very much like Aelin in that regard).

“How did the conversation of another wedding start?” Rowan asked as they all started eating.

“Phia here wanted to know how we meet.”

Olive snorted. “Yes, the ever romantic story of meeting in the toilet paper aisle.”

“It was not the toilet paper isle!” Aelin protested. “It was the cereal aisle.”

“At least you kids have inherited my manners,” Rowan said, “your mother didn't even ask nicely. She just came over to me and said, 'You're tall, could you get that box for me?'” It had taken him a moment to realise he had been spoken to, too focused on deciding what box of porridge to get when Aelin showed up, wearing a faded band shirt and shorts, pointing to the box of cereal that had far too much sugar to be healthy. He had said 'yes' because it was the nice thing to do, and had stayed behind, talking to her for so long in the aisle that his vanilla ice cream had started to melt.

It was the best decision in his life back then, he never thought he would have gained a friend in the grocery store—and that the friend would become his wife.

“I have manners. I said, 'Excuse you' first before I told you what I needed.”

“That's not really using manners there, ma,” Egan said, smiling as poked her tongue out. He looked so much like Lyria that it was almost scary—he still loved flowers and plants too, and was currently studying to become a florist and then one day horticulture. The backyard was full of flowers and plants thanks to him, making into a little wonderland instead of the barren plain it used to be.

“I did say 'thank you' afterwards.”

“You said 'thanks',” Rowan interjected, laughing as Aelin threw a chunk of her flatbread at his head. Ophelia's cute laughter rent through the air.

“It's the same thing!”

“If you say so, love,” Rowan muttered, his lips twitching. Aelin rolled her eyes in the dramatic way Rowan was used to, but he saw the mirth behind the movement.

“Like I said Phie, it's very romantic,” Olive said drily, sounding very much like Rowan. She had even inherited his scowl, which she was wearing now as she sniffed at the air. “Is something burning?”

Aelin had never run so fast as she did right then, the kitchen filling with smoke as she took in the blackened cake. Swearing viciously under her breath, Aelin chucked the cake into the bin, apologising to Olive as she did so.

“It's okay, mum, dad got me an ice-cream cake earlier today anyway.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes at her husband, who simply gave her an innocent smile in answer.

Rejoining her family, they talked well into the night, helping Aelin to forget her failed baking attempt. Ophelia asked more questions about their time in the grocery store and how that moment lead to friendship, to pining for the other without realising it, to a life together.

And to think, Aelin almost didn't go to the grocery store that day.

Rowan thanked the gods that he had remembered at the last moment that he had no porridge left, otherwise, he might not have met Aelin at all. Might not have had this life, this family. Part of him would always be sad that things had gone so wrong with Lyria, and he would always miss and love her. But he learned in therapy that it was good to have a life, and Rowan was glad that he heeded that advice.

He thanked the gods all the time.

And thank the rutting gods he did right now for the umpteenth time that Aelin deemed him tall enough to get her food for her, to stay in that aisle with him as they got to know each other.

Rowan was a very happy man indeed as he and Aelin went to bed that night, the smiles still on their faces at Olive's unrestrained joy at the sight of the car they spent weeks looking at second-hand dealerships at, hunting for the perfect car for their daughter.

Thank the rutting gods for all those moments in the past, present, and future.

Rowan couldn't wait to marry her again, and neither could Aelin.

Life was good.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work #thank u!!

[goldentournesol]

Twin Flames

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

The one where Reader deals with the aftermath of Maeve while she struggles with her intense feelings for Spencer.

Length: 4.3k

A/N: lots of angst...like lots of it. Big thanks to @hopefulfangirl24​ for requesting. i totally broke my own heart writing this. ENJOY!

masterlist

Sometimes the hardest part isn't letting go, it's starting over. -Nicole Sobon

Starting over.

What did starting over even look like for Spencer? Will the dread and guilt ever stop washing over him as the sun melts into the horizon and the moon takes its place? 

It was starting to feel like he could never move on from the pain of losing Maeve. Day and night, he stared at the four walls of his apartment wondering what could have been if he had said something different. He wondered if the outcome would be the same. He wondered whether fate had ever been kind to him in at least one of the infinite universes that might exist, giving him the ending he so desperately wanted. After so many years, Spencer finally allowed himself to be brave enough to fall in love and oh how he wished he regretted it, but falling in love was anything but regrettable. Falling in love meant being vulnerable, and he knew that, but he didn’t know just how much it would hurt. The purity of Spencer’s soul allowed him to love so deeply, so intensely, and with all his heart which made it all the more easy to hurt so deeply and so intensely.

He yearned to become unfamiliar with the feeling of heaviness. Everything was so heavy, his heart, his stomach, his tears. Each of them weighing on him like anvils that he couldn’t lift no matter how hard he tried. In theory, he knew the anvils could be lifted with help from others, but that was too much of a strenuous task to tackle right now. He’ll handle the anvils all on his own for now. 

The world seemed eerily desolate and Spencer couldn’t seem to remember what it looked like before it turned into the dull, washed out version he became acquainted with now. Penelope had tried to add some color back into his life, but her actions were futile against the monstrosity of grief. The entire team had tried to reach out and while he appreciated the gestures, he had no capacity for anything other than the agony that consumed him. 

Derek left what seemed like a thousand messages on his phone, but he still checked to see who called every time his phone rang. Which is exactly why it was unprecedented to see a different name pop up at the sound of his ringtone in the middle of the day. A name which belonged to a person he’d held very dear for so long. They haven’t spoken in months, maybe a year and if Spencer’s mind wasn’t currently overcrowded with thoughts, he’d definitely be able to recall the exact amount of time between speaking to her last and now. Why is she calling him now? What if something was wrong? Did she know about what happened? No, how would she find out? His curiosity had possessed his body, making him answer the call.

“Y/N?” He croaked, clearing his throat, having not used his voice in days.

“Spencer! How’s my favorite genius doing? I didn’t know if you’d changed your number or something, but I’d just thought I’d call anyway! Are you at work? Sorry, I can call you back later if-” She shouted excitedly into the phone, but Spencer was quick to end her worries.

“No, no. I’m not at work.” Spencer said curtly.

“Oh, is everything alright?” She asked, concerned. She could tell by the tone of his voice that something was not right.

“Did Garcia put you up to this?” Spencer deflected defensively. 

He knew Garcia was aware that Y/N was the only person he’d never turn away from. Not after all they’d been through. She was the one person who never left his side. She and Spencer were undeniably connected by some sort of un-explainable, otherworldly force. Call them soulmates, twin flames, mirror souls--whatever. That was what they were. It didn’t matter to them if they were romantically involved or not, the connection between them had surpassed the simple stages of romance. Spencer often found himself wondering what could have been if he’d never left Vegas. If he’d never left her.

“Garcia? The tech analyst? No, why? Spencer, did something happen?” She recalled meeting the eccentric woman when she visited Spencer in Quantico a few years back. 

Spencer’s brow furrowed and his mouth spoke before his brain could tell it not to, “Then why are you calling me?” He spat impatiently, pinching the bridge of his nose, already wishing he didn’t have to prolong the conversation.

Y/N was taken aback through the phone at his retort but her heart ached for him, knowing that something dreadful must have happened for him to act so out of character, but she took the phone off her ear to check if she had dialed the correct number anyway. She had.

“I just wanted to catch up with you. Is this about not calling you recently? I’m sorry, Spencer, I got caught up with work and I moved into a new apartment, and things have just been really hectic lately. Are you okay?” She worried through the phone and Spencer could practically feel her disquietude seeping from the speaker.

“So, you really don’t know…?” Spencer trailed off, already feeling the guilt bubble up in his chest, still avoiding the question. He didn’t even know what okay meant anymore.

“Know what, Spence? Oh God, is Diana okay?!” She shrieked, her mind snapping to the worst case scenario.

Her genuine reaction had made Spencer ease the frown that had been permanently etched onto his features for days. It wasn’t a smile yet, but it was something. She and his mother had always shared a bond that he never really understood, even as an adult. That was how compassionate she was, she was able to instantly connect with people and she would do it so well. It used to baffle Spencer when they were children, but perhaps that’s what drew her to him. Their souls were tied together with an invisible string.

She heard him release a huff and some shuffling was heard from his side, “My mom is fine.”

She let out a sigh of relief, “So, what’s going on?”

He paused, debating whether or not to tell her. She sighed again, knowing it must have been something terrible if he wasn’t willing to talk about it.

“Spencer?” She called softly when he fell silent. She was already browsing for plane tickets from Las Vegas to DC.

“I...I couldn’t do it, Y/N. I couldn’t save her.” He sniffled into the phone and her heart had practically escaped from its place in her chest and landed in the pits of her stomach. Her arms and shoulders were immediately overtaken with chills. She didn’t know who he was referring to, but the dread set in quicker than she imagined. She could tell this was bad, even for Spencer and his line of work. Whatever happened had ripped him to shreds and she was not about to sit idly in Vegas.

Two days later, she struggled to haul a small suitcase out of the cab she took from the airport to Spencer’s apartment complex. The flight was way more exhausting than it should have been. She placed the suitcase on the ground with a huff and spotted two blonde women descending from the stairs that led to Spencer’s apartment as she neared the entrance. She quickly recognized them as Spencer’s beloved coworkers, Garcia and JJ. Garcia’s eyes found hers and let out a surprised gasp.

“Hey, I know you! You’re Spencer’s friend--from Vegas! Y/N, right?” Garcia announced as Y/N entered the building, stopping right before the stairs.

“Hi, Penelope.” Y/N said expectantly with a playful smile. Garcia was pleasantly surprised when she remembered who she was and pulled her into a warm embrace.

“Hi, JJ.” she smiled as she gave her a hug, “Any luck with Spencer?”

The two women shared a look and sighed deeply.

“No, he hasn’t even spoken to us through the door.” JJ said with a heavy heart before she continued, “How did you know? Did he call you?”

Y/N shook her head, “No, I called him.”

“And he picked up?!” Garcia exclaimed, eliciting a half-laugh from Y/N.

“Yeah, he did. I don’t know how it happened, I just, you know when you get a feeling like in the pit of your stomach? It felt like he needed me all of a sudden--sorry, that sounds so weird.” She apologized, shaking her head slightly.

“No, it’s okay. Maybe you can get through to him. We’re all really worried about him.” JJ explained and Y/N nodded.

“I still don’t really know what happened, was it...that bad?” Y/N felt silly for asking. The two shared another look. A look that held so much shared trauma and empathy for their friend. Y/N’s heart sank as she let out a shuddered breath at their silent reaction. She glanced up at the stairs helplessly, wondering if she was strong enough to help him through the turmoil he’s experiencing.

“He’s refused to see anyone for the past two weeks, please let us know if anything changes.” Garcia pleaded and they proceeded to exchange numbers to keep in touch. Y/N nodded and smiled gratefully at them before making her way up the stairs and facing Spencer’s door. 

She took a deep breath before knocking. Spencer held back a groan as he dropped his copy of The Narrative of John Smith into his lap, bringing his hands to his face in an act of exhaustion. He wanted to scream at them to leave him alone, but he simply didn’t have the energy to do so. He’d settle on ignoring them for now. The knocking carried on, but it was paired with a gentle voice that Spencer knew all too well. JJ and Garcia watched from the bottom of the steps, bouncing with anticipation.

“Spencer? It’s Y/N. Can you please open up?” She called through the wooden door. 

Spencer froze in his place. Was he finally asleep and dreaming? Did she really come all this way for him or was he imagining it? Was fate finally giving him a taste of kindness? A kindness he so desperately wished for? He suddenly retreated into the darkest corner of his mind, the dark place which never failed to remind him on an hourly basis just how unworthy of love he really was. Not hers, not Maeve’s, not anyone’s. His thoughts were interrupted yet again by another insistent knock. It sounded too clear to be a figment of his imagination. He forced himself up from his place on the couch and made his way to the door. She heard shuffling from the other side and bit her lip. JJ and Garcia made a move to leave before they heard the sound of the door opening. They shared an excited look, not even caring that they were almost half an hour late to work at this point.

Spencer’s sullen eyes found her bright ones immediately. She gave him a soft smile and he swore the world around him withered away slightly.

“Hey, genius.” She spoke with her signature tenderness and Spencer didn’t hesitate to engulf her in a long awaited embrace. She let out a breath at the sudden force but welcomed him into her arms anyway. JJ and Garcia grinned at each other, a newfound wave of relief hitting the both of them. They left for work, grins of relief never leaving their faces.

“You’re....you’re here? You’re really here?” Spencer mumbled as he stuffed his face into her neck, her presence filling him with a sense of familiarity, one he so hopelessly craved.

She nodded into his shoulder, squeezing him impossibly tighter, “Yeah, Spence, I’m right here.” 

She felt his chest expand against hers and he released a deep, heavy sigh. He suddenly felt a sense of security wash over him, his arms tightened around her waist, lifting her off the ground slightly as he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to relish in her warm embrace for just a few moments longer. Relief flooded his chest, and he felt like he could breathe again. He was inexplicably glad that the first thing he could breathe in again was the smell of her perfume. He vouched to never allow himself to forget the level of comfort she brought again. Spencer momentarily forgot about his sorrows in her arms, but the agony was far too unforgiving and the moment of bliss didn’t last. His chest clenched again as he set her down and pulled away from her.

“Y-you didn’t have to come all the way out here.” He frowned, struggling to hold himself together in front of her.

“Stop that, you know I’d drop everything in a heartbeat for you.” She attempted to smile despite her eyes welling up with tears at the sight of his suffering. He nodded and they both stepped into his apartment, her dragging her suitcase in with her.

“You came from the airport?” He said with a small voice as he saw her pull the bag in. He had expected her to stop by whichever hotel she booked a room at first.

“Yeah, I came as soon as I landed. I needed to see you first.” She said, pulling him to his couch by the hand, careful not to step on any of the books that lay on the floor.

“Do you…” he paused, swallowing his tears, “do you have to stay at the hotel?”

“No, Spence, I don’t have to. I can stay here if you want.” She gently stroked her thumb across his knuckles.

“Please? Please...stay?” His voice cracked and suddenly his face scrunched up in an attempt to suppress a sob, but to no avail. 

A heartbreaking sob escaped from his lips and she wrapped herself around him without a second thought. Cooing at him lovingly and rubbing his back, reminding him every so often that she was right there. Once the floodgates had opened, they had no idea when they would stop. She held his shaking body tightly to hers as if she could somehow absorb some of the pain he felt and tried not to let any of her own tears fall onto him. It broke her heart to see him so saddened. 

She pressed kisses to the side of his head as he calmed down, threading her fingers through his messy, tangled hair. Spencer’s ear was now resting against her heartbeat, he focused on the steady sound and he felt his eyes droop with the exhaustion of days without sleep. She smiled slightly and soon fell asleep, making up for the sleep she missed on the flight over.

Hours later, they awoke and moved around the apartment in silence. Or rather she moved in silence while he stayed on the couch, looking for anything to drown out his sorrows. She focused on making him a balanced breakfast, despite the fact that it was almost 3 pm. 

“Spencer? Come eat. I made coffee, too.” She called out, already eating off her plate. She hoped she wouldn’t have to physically drag him off the couch. She smiled when she heard him drag his feet all the way to the kitchen. They ate together in silence, although Spencer was thankful for the warm food.

“Do you know why I joined the FBI?” He asked after a while. She stared at him curiously and he continued, “I joined the FBI to protect people. That’s the whole point of the job. I wanted to protect her, I wanted to save her, and I failed. I failed, Y/N. What’s the point of me being an FBI agent if I can’t even protect the ones I love?” He ranted as he looked at her for answers.

“What is the point of loving anyone if I can’t protect them?” He frowned, tears pooling on the inside of his eyes. She frowned in response, clutching the cup of coffee tight between her hands.

“Do you want to start from the beginning?” She offered and he quickly realized she had no idea who he was talking about.

“Her name is...was Maeve. She was the geneticist who helped me get rid of my migraines. I sent her my brain scan and she was the only one who actually helped. I never actually met her, though, all our communication happened through payphones or letters because she had a stalker. She didn’t know who they were, just that they were dangerous. I’d call her every Sunday and we’d just...talk. We sent letters under pseudonyms. It was nice. It was more than nice, actually. It was the first time I ever felt appreciated for who I am, I didn’t have to worry about her judging the way I looked. I-I fell in love with her before I even saw her. We planned a date, finally, but I sent her home because I thought I saw her stalker. So stupid. I was so stupid. I was so paranoid, Y/N. Good things just don’t happen to Spencer Reid, I should have known.” He paused, shaking his head and holding back tears.

“Anyway, she was abducted by her stalker. We thought it was her fiance at first, but it wasn’t. It was his girlfriend...Diane.” He shuddered as the name left his lips. “She was a grad student at the university Maeve taught at and she rejected her thesis. Can you believe that? I lost the one good thing I had over a thesis?” He laughed bitterly, tears streaming down his face. It was deeper than that, but he didn’t care to explain. 

“I only got 2,412 hours of communication with her. Even though I remember every word, it’ll never be enough.” He aggressively wiped at his cheeks. “I told Diane I’d die for her...for Maeve. I meant it, too. I would have died for her!” He slammed a frustrated hand on the table, shaking the tableware. 

“Apparently that was the worst possible thing to say because it set her off. She...she shot herself in the head and the bullet...the b-bullet--” He cut himself off with a sob, unable to finish the sentence, the grief hitting him like it was a tsunami and he was an unsuspecting beach town.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” She repeated as she rushed to crouch down in front of him, taking both his hands. She kissed his knuckles before wiping her own tears. 

What kind of world did they live in where they had to worry about tragedies like this? She suddenly had a brewing hatred for the world around her. How could it let something so terrible happen to someone so good. Spencer Reid was good, and he deserves nothing but good things in his life. As much as the story pained her, she couldn’t begin to imagine the pain he was feeling. 

“I know you blame yourself, Spence. It’s gonna be hard not to at first. But you have to understand that none of this is your fault. You didn’t pull that trigger. She did. I’m so sorry, Spence. I’m so, so sorry. This should have never happened to you, or to anyone. The pain is gonna suck, grief is not easy, but you don’t have to go through it alone. You know that right?” She spoke softly, trying as hard as she could to keep her voice steady for him. He looked at her and saw the truth in her eyes. He nodded ever so slightly and sniffled.

“I know.” He squeezed her hands once and she smiled reassuringly. Her smile made him feel a little bit better. He didn’t want the team’s help, they’d all just treat him like a wounded puppy. She was so unconditionally compassionate and loving, he never wanted to stray far from her again. She got up from her crouched position and pulled him to stand with her. She wrapped her arms around his back and leaned into his chest. He squeezed her tighter, tears soaking into her shirt once again. “Thank you.” He muttered. She nodded. “How long are you staying?” His heart clenched, not wanting to see her go.

“I’ll be here for as long as you need, love.” She rubbed circles across his back. He pulled away to face her.

“What about your job?” He frowned, wiping a hand over his face.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ve got lots of vacation days saved up.” She reassured, “Besides, I’d rather be here with you than at that stupid job anyway.” She rolled her eyes, thinking of her impossible boss. Spencer suppressed a smile.

“Wait, you’re still working for--”

“Yup, same asshole.” She laughed and Spencer smiled. 

He smiled! 

He remembered all the times she would complain about her horrible boss over the phone.

“So, you said you moved?” Spencer asked, leading her back to the couch.

“Yeah, I really hated my old apartment.” Spencer nodded, “I’m really sorry for not calling you. I missed you so much and I thought about you practically every day...it’s just, you know, it’s easy to get caught up in all the little things.” She apologized, feeling guilty.

“It’s just as much my fault, I haven’t called either. And...I missed you too.” Spencer said.

“It’s alright, we’ve both been busy.” She smiled at him.

“You would have loved her.” Spencer trailed off, frowning. She let out a sigh.

“I’m sure I would have, Spence.” She mirrored his frown.

“She reminded me of you in a lot of ways now that I think about it. She was kind and compassionate. She was funny, she liked to make puns and she was good with words.” He reminisced sadly. All she could do was smile halfheartedly. On one hand, she was glad he got to experience such a love, but on the other, she found herself fighting off a feeling of jealousy.

“I never thought I’d get over you.” He admitted, fidgeting with his hands and avoiding her gaze, yet he said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Spencer had already bared his soul to her, what was this one confession in the grand scheme of things?

“What?” She whispered, completely caught off guard. He glanced at her to see her shocked face.

“What? Don’t act like you didn’t know.” He scoffed lightly. He was right, she always suspected his feelings for her but she never wanted to entertain the idea of it in case she was wrong. She’d been hurt so many times that she didn’t even want to think about being hurt by the one person she’d loved more than anyone else.

She loved Spencer. She knew that. There was no doubt in her mind. They were twin flames. They danced around each other and separated, but never burnt out.

“In fact, I don’t think I could ever get over you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you.” He spoke quietly. “You don’t have to say anything right now, I’m not expecting you to. I think I’m so upset over Maeve because, of course, I loved her, but in so many ways she reminded me of you. And if I can’t protect her, then I can’t protect you.” 

“I, um, I don’t know what to say.” She stammered. She knew he was overwhelmed with emotion so she tried not to take his words too literally. But the confession hit her like a truck. She didn’t know what to do. He’s mourning the loss of his girlfriend, it would be completely selfish for her to take advantage of his feelings. It’s not like he was asking anything of her, he was just hanging it all out to dry. He was so vulnerable right now, she couldn’t act upon her own feelings. They both knew that.

She felt her throat run dry at all the words she wanted to say, but she settled on, “We should talk about this later, Spence.” 

He gave her a half smile and nodded, the numbness setting in.

The next few days blurred into each other. They consisted of Y/N cleaning up around the apartment, making food, doing laundry. Spencer was doing his best to help her out, but he found too much comfort inside the walls he built for himself. She didn’t push him to do anything he didn’t want to do. She’d convinced him to leave the house twice, both times going for a walk in the sunlight. She made sure he brushed his hair and shaved his face. Honestly without her, he’d probably still be stuck in his spot on the couch. She updated his coworkers daily, letting them know that he was doing better. She even held him at night when he cried for the love that was ripped too soon from him. 

“Y/N?” Spencer called one morning as he walked in on her in the kitchen.

“Yeah?” She turned away from the coffee machine to face him. She still looked as beautiful  as ever even under the light coming from his dodgy kitchen window.

“I just want to thank you. For all you’ve done for me. It couldn’t have been easy for you.” He smiled shyly. She smiled brightly at him, moving closer to wrap her arms around him tightly.

“You don’t have to thank me. You would have done the same for me.” She looked up at him and into his honey colored eyes. The eyes that have shed buckets worth of tears in the past few days.

“Yeah, I would have.” He joked, finally feeling like himself again, resting his hands on her waist. “I meant what I said, by the way.”

She nodded, “I know. But we’re not in any rush, are we? I’d wait for you forever if I had to, Spencer Reid.”

And he wouldn’t have to worry, because twin flames always find each other.

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