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#i thought it would be equal to a little better than midnights...........oh boy
winter-tospring · 1 month
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first impressions from last night, for my records lol written as i went. warning, it's not great tortured poets department: wtf is with all that synth it sounds so bad so high so not on theme wtf is this her voice doesnt sound like it's trying at all it's strolling and so boring; she's just giving us nothing
my boy: this is like if out of the woods production was less good and also didn't fit the theme and lyrics and it just is bAD so bad, like why, it's like a bad imitation that doesn't make sense!!!!!! the drum and synth was nice once and then i'm sorry you actually have to make it coherent not just re-use the same things and patch them together because you have no new fucking ideas !!~!!!!!!!
down bad- she will say she's an alcoholic and she learned how to say fuck so she overuses it like a teenager now, great. matty breaking up with her?? sounds like he did but feels like lies tbh
so long, london- wow finally getting to hear about joe. better match between lyrics and music. better gradation, better buildup, some pretty good lyrics, overall, decent
but daddy i love him- something i would actually support and be hyping if she had come out as bi, or gay, or had stuck with matty, had defended any part about him, had continued dating him longer than she did, had actually dissassociated from her dad, had actually done sonmething rebellious truly. but she reverted back to a fucking footballer her dad picked for her so how fucking bold to release this now when all this energy is gone. the nerve. she should've kept this to herself or release it last summer it's actually UPSETTING that she would release this now when she is in such a picture perfect daddy approved relationship.
fresh out the slammer- uh….okay…undewhelming "taylor, please. do a drug. any drug. and report back. 😞😩"
florida!!!- definitly the best!! florence has the best moments of the album. actually intersting vocals, attitude, style, bocal beauty, and interesting music overall. just want her to sing only, feels like taylor is impeding on florence and i want florence to come back everytime she stops singing. florence actually adds flavor to this, whereas taylor is just...flat and uninteresting??? yikes
guilty as sin?- actually like it!! guitar and drum yes baby. though oh pooor little baby you desire someone else. you are now linking yourself to jesus, you're so guilty but you havent done anything. okay okay but the sound is actually good and i would listen again. the grandiose religious comparisons are a plenty on this album man
i can fix him- taylor you are not grimes. you were not married to elon musk. stop religion, stop it. my god how embarassing this one should not have been public. actually burst out laughing at that last heavy "can't"
loml- thank you for actually telling us something. that was the easiest to get through without interrupting. joe song. good words, good simple ballad.
i can do this with a broken heart- this is funny genuinely, funny, i would hype that, wow
the smallest man who ever lived- the karlie song? want to look more into the lyrics.
the alchemy- ew ew ewterrible badddddddddddd you can't write a good song about football, please stop trying. this is so bad i'm actually so mad please delete this clara bow- so disapointed! i expected more from this one, but it's another ''the lucky one'' or "last american dynasty" etc...nothing new, so it doesn' really compel attention... i listened to who's afraid of little old me last:
who's afraid of little old me?- oh god girl. make this make sense. this is embarrassing, why dont you tell us why you were raised in an asylum and what they did and that instead of throwing oh boohoo me i have it so bad.
this is just her style now, i guess. :|
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starkskeep · 1 year
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And the life I gave away (r. stark)
And the life I gave away r. stark imagine
Pt. 4 of Oh, all I used to do was pray, Right when I felt the moment stop, And I might be okay, but I'm not fine at all
Pairings - Robb Stark x female!Reader
Summary - A letter from your father spurs Robb to take action to become a better husband.
Word Count - 1,551 words
Warnings - Angst, Walder Frey's A+ parenting
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Songs I listened to while writing: Midnight Rain, All Too Well (Taylor Swift), Moral of the Story (Ashe), We Go Down Together (Dove Cameron & Khalid)
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The days following are long for you. You stay in your chambers and refuse entry to anyone but the maids. You eat only broth and bread, unable to stomach anything else. Despite the child being a bastard. Part of it is worry. News has no doubt already reached your father of the events at Winterfell and it deepens the pit of dread thinking of the letter that will no doubt arrive from the Twins. However, you do not allow your grief to disrupt Winterfell the birth of their lord’s child. Robb is a good person who would not allow his child to be ill-treated and you would never hold the circumstances of a child’s birth against them, especially a little girl. The world is already cruel enough to women even without their status being held against them. 
The days are equally long for Robb. From the moment he left your chambers to see Talisa and his child, he had wanted nothing more than to return to you, wrap his arms around you, and tell you that he was sorry for everything you have endured since leaving your father’s household. But he knew he wouldn’t be accepted. The pain was something that you two would have to take separately. The king of the north hoped that by some miracle of the gods you would call for him, but you never did.
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You were alone in the Godswood reading the letter that had finally come from your father. It’s the first time that you have ventured out of your chambers in weeks. 
To my worthless daughter,
How stupid do you have to be not be pregnant yet? There must be something wrong with you. Instead, I should have given one of your sisters or nieces to the Stark boy. They would have likely been impregnated already. It’s not that hard to lay on your back and take it. It is your duty and you have failed. It’s evident by the existence of a bastard that he has no issue producing children and the problem lies with you. You are a disgrace to the Frey name. If you don’t produce an heir for Robb Stark soon, I will have you dragged away from Winterfell and you will be replaced with another one of my other girls. This is not a threat to be taken lightly.
Remember your duty.
Lord Walder Frey
You sob as you read the letter. Your tears end up smudging some of your father’s words. No mention of your injury or how you almost lost your life. The letter only contains threats and reminders of your failures. You don’t know why you expected anything else from Walder Frey. It’s not like the man ever acted as a father. But still, you would have thought there would have been at least the tiniest bit of concern that he almost lost you. 
It is this scene that Sansa comes upon when she enters the Godswood. She stops in her tracks when she sees you: first surprised that you are out of your rooms and then startled that you are crying. She walks over to where you are and read the letter as best as she can from over your shoulder. Sansa’s expression oscillates between worry and outrage. There is nothing she can say to you that she believes would alleviate your pain so she instead chooses to sink to the ground beside you and rubs your arm in comfort. “Can I do anything for you?” Your good sister asks and the words come from the bottom of her heart. The letter was cruel and undeserved. Sansa truly wants to help you, to make your pain go away.
You hastily wipe your tears as Sansa sat beside you, standing up after her question as if it scared you off. “N…n…no. I’m sorry that you had to see me in this state. If you would excuse me, I must be off.” You rush out of the Godswood.
In your haste, you had dropped your letter. Sansa notices it in the grass and walks over to pick it up. She knows that she needs to let someone know how Walder Frey is writing to you. Even though you are his daughter, you are now the Queen of the North and you require respect from everyone. Not wanting to disturb Robb and not believing him to be the best person to handle this, Sansa decides to show it to her mother. Lady Catelyn will know what to do.
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Catelyn looks down at the letter that Sansa had brought to her. An expression of disgusted disbelief spreads across her face as she reads it. What a cruel, cruel man Walder Frey is. When for him, this is shocking. She could never imagine her late father sending a letter such as this at the beginning of her marriage to Ned. Catelyn shakes her head and purses her lips, letting out a deep breath in an effort to calm herself and organize her thoughts. Something needs to be done about this. It is despicable and she refuses to let you be subjected to this kind of vitriol. Robb must be told about this. He is the only one with enough power to take action. No one deserves to be treated as such, especially someone such as yourself.
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Robb stares down at the letter that his mother had just brought to him. He is livid. This is the very last straw for Walder Frey. The man shall truly become his name, the Late Lord Frey. 
The king’s anger only grows as he reads line after line. “Did he truly say this to her?” He asks incredulously as he shakes the letter in his hand. “How dare he!” The rage building in him is undeniable and hard to contain. He clenches his fist and when he finally looks back up, there is fire behind his gaze.
Catelyn speaks to Robb, rubbing his back the way she had done when he was a boy in an attempt to calm him down. “My dear boy. You need to go speak to your wife about this. This is her letter, from her father, with these vile words written about her.”
He looks down at the letter again, making sure that he saw everything correctly; that this letter is as disgusting as when he read it the first time. When Robb is finished rereading it, his face shifts from anger to contempt. The words stab at his heart. “How could someone say as much to their daughter? To someone with a heart as kind as my wife’s? She sacrificed her safety for Arya and Rickon without expecting anything in return even after the way this family initially rejected her presence at Winterfell. She is the best of us and to have these words written about her should be met with removing the writer’s hands.”
“While I detest Walder Frey even more for writing this and vehemently disagree with most of the letter’s claim, there is some truth to his claims. Not the threats about y/n being worthless, which is very much not true, but about you and her not having a child together yet. A woman’s position in the household she marries into is only secure so long as she provides her husband with children. Even more so when those children shall be the heirs to a kingdom. As much as I love my new granddaughter, the birth of your natural-born child has put your wife at great risk. People will begin to speculate whether or not she is able to bear children when in reality, it is the fact that you do not lay with her.”
Robb’s heart begins to race. Not only is it embarrassing to hear his mother talk about his relations with his wife, but the guilt that has already been building since your accident worsens. The facts behind Walder Frey’s letter were true but to say what he said to you was monstrous. He would not let anyone talk about or to his wife like that. 
“That doesn’t excuse the cruelty of the letter. This is disgusting.” Robb grits out as he throws the letter down on his desk. He really wants to throw it in the fireplace until it becomes nothing but ash yet he decides to keep it should he ever need evidence against your father. Catelyn watches as Robb storms out of his study.
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Meanwhile, you are back in your chambers. Sitting in front of the fireplace, Jon has his arms around you as you sob. He pulls away slightly in order to procure a handkerchief for you. After wiping away your tears, Jon pulls you closer to him. He places a kiss on the top of your head and smoothes your hair. 
You choke back tears as you speak. “Jon. I can’t find the letter that my father wrote me. The contents are mortifying. I can’t bear the thought of someone finding it. Will you check the Godswood for me? That was the last place I remember having my letter. It’s where I read it. 
“Of course. I would do anything you ask of me.” Jon replies to you sincerely. Neither of you has noticed that Robb has entered your chambers. 
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Next Part
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professionalfanatic · 4 months
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Harry stiffled a curse, heading back to the Tower after yet another detention with Umbridge. He cast a Tempus, and groaned, seeing that it was a little past midnight. Now he would have to copy off Hermione's Transfiguration homework again, seeing he was just too exhausted to pick a quill, forget writing down the Laws of Goodness knows what.
He hoped Hermione was  asleep. His hand seemed to be bleeding even more than usual, and even though he would have loved to soak his hand in her special dittany , he didn’t want to deal with her rebukes again. He knew that she disapproved of him keeping the true nature of Umbridge’s detentions quiet. She'd been urging him the whole of the past weekend to go to Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, anyone really, but Harry had refused soundly. He didn't want to see the satisfaction on Umbridge’s face that she was getting under his skin. That she was hurting him. He'd be damned before he allowed that to happen.
Besides, what use was it, going to Dumbledore? The man seemed to be pretty determined to ignore him for the entirety of the school year, starting from his Trial back at the Ministry for Magic. Harry didn’t want to bother him either. He must be busy, what with the whole business of Voldemort, and the Ministry being a bunch of idiots.
So Harry would just have to deal with it. It wasn’t anything huge, he had lived with the Dursleys for the past 15 years of his life.
He yawned, rubbing his tired eyes. Honestly, this year was turning out to be the worst ones ever. He was so exhausted and disgruntled with everything that he was even looking forward for the holidays, and that's to say something, because Harry usually preferred his school terms better than the vacation.
But who could blame him? What with the whole business with Voldemort coming back to torment him, the dementor at Privet Drive, Dumbledore ignoring him, the horrible nightmares, Umbridge with her stupid DADA lessons, the damn detentions, his OWLS and that blonde prat -
"Oof! " Harry huffed as he collided with someone, and made a head dive to the floor. "Watch where your going! "
It was unfair, he knew, as he had been the one engrossed in his thoughts to have not seen the dark clad figure, who was also now sprawled on the floor in a very undignified manner.
"I think you should do that. "
Harry froze in the act of standing up. He could identify that snooty, lordly sneer anywhere.
"Malfoy. "
Of everyone he could have bump into after detention, it just had to be Malfoy.
The said boy was now dusting himself off the floor, scowling as he did so. His blond hair was all over the place, and he looked a bit more dishevelled for his impeccable Malfoy appearance. Not to mention, he was also sprawled on the floor, in a very undignified manner.
Malfoy looked up, and seeing Harry’s glaring face, his own scowl deepened.
"Potter. " He sneered at him. "What are you doing here at this time of the night? Not sneaking around, I hope? "
"Malfoy. " Harry bit back with equal venom. "It's none of your business. "
His scowl was replaced by a little smirk. "Language, Potter. I'd like to remind you that I am a prefect. Which means that I, unlike you, can take away some points for your unseemly behaviour. "
Harry glared at him.
His smirk grew. "So tell me, Oh great boy who lived. What are you doing at this ungodly hour? "
"Detention. " Harry said through gritted teeth. "I had detention with Umbridge. "
Harry hadn't thought that his smirk could become any wider. But apparently, it could, and Malfoy actually had the nerve to let out a gloating laugh.
"Ah, yes. Detentions for all the lies you've been spouting this year, am I correct? "
"You know very well if they are lies or not, Malfoy. " Harry grinned, seeing the smirk on Malfoy's face fade.
"Do I, then? " He hissed, a glare adorning his features.
"At least your scumbag of a Death Eater father would. " Harry shot at him. He shouldn't be here, fighting with Malfoy, a distant voice in his head which resembled Hermione was warning at him to shut his big mouth and stop enraging the blond menace, but Harry never did have much self control around Malfoy.
Malfoy's lip was curling in a cruel sneer.
"At least I have parents, Potter. Yours are six feet under. "
Harry saw red.
He growled at the disgusting slimy Slytherin and leapt forward, pulling his wand out of his pocket, not giving a least care that this would very well mean another set of ghastly detentions with the toad like woman. Malfoy had pushed him to the limit today, and insulting his dead parents, he could not tolerate. He wanted to murder the stupid bastard.
Ginny's Bat Bogey Hex seemed a good idea at the moment-
"Potter! What's wrong with your hand?! "
Harry stopped in his tracks, startled, all thoughts of hexes and curses forgotten. He had not expected Malfoy to ask about his hand, much less notice his hand was bleeding.
He spared a glance at his blood dripping hand and winced. Okay, maybe he would've noticed, but Harry never expected him to look so... different. He wasn’t sneering at him, or giving out snide comments at how pathetic he was to injure his hand, on the contrary, Malfoy was staring at him with something akin to..... concern.
"What? " Harry said stupidly.
"Your hand, Potter. " Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Why is it bleeding all over the place? "
"That's - " Harry began to say, before stopping abruptly. "Wait, what? "
"Potter, much as I knew your brain to be nonexistent, this is ridiculous, if you don't have the ability to understand simple sentences. " Malfoy rolled his eyes expressively.
"No! Just... why are you asking about my hand? " Harry garbled.
Malfoy heaved a sigh and lurched forward, and grabbed his hand, making Harry yelp.
He watched as a series of emotions flick in Malfoy's grey eyes, moving from concern, to surprise and anger after discerning the words carved into his skin.
Harry had never seen Malfoy's eyes look so intense. All for an injury that had happened to Harry. Harry bloody Potter, who was Malfoy's worst enemy. Why even was he angry for this? Harry had never been this stupefied in his life.
Then again, nothing about Malfoy ever made much sense, right?
"Bitch. " Malfoy muttered under his breathe and demanded sharply, startling Harry out of his bewilderment. "How long has she been making you do this? "
"Huh? " Harry mumbled, his brain yet to process Malfoy's question.
He rolled his eyes, and muttered, "Probably from the start of this term... no wonder its deep. "
Harry’s jaw dropped at Malfoy's unnatural concern.
"Woah, woah.. " He stuttered. "Malfoy? Are you alright? "
"What? " The said boy snapped, still staring at his hand with a frankly alarming expression.
"..... why.... are you holding my hand...? "
Harry winced when that was the first question that slipped him. That was not a good thing to ask right now. Or any time. He shouldn't be wondering why Draco Malfoy of all people was holding his hand and worrying about him. What next, Voldemort inviting him for a nice chat over a cup of coffee?
So in Harry’s defense, his concern was perfectly acceptable.
Malfoy was worried for Harry.
Malfoy, with his blond hair, not slicked back with gel for a change, and his grey eyes that looked almost silver in this light, was actually cradling Harry’s hand. Tenderly.
Harry shook his head frantically. That made no sense. He must be hallucinating. Did Fred and George give him  some weird thing that was making him see weird stuff like this? Were everyone in the common room laughing at how dumb his hallucination was?
Or dreaming. He must have returned to the common room, and he must have fallen asleep while writing Snape's stupid essay about the restorative properties of Merlin knows what. Any moment now he'll wake up, and laugh at himself for seeing such bizarre and stupid dream.
Literally anything made sense in the face of Draco bloody Malfoy expressing an emotion other than anger, and hatred to him.
He glanced at Malfoy's worried (worried! ) face and asked him slowly, in a delibrate voice,
"Malfoy, are you sure if you are all right? "
He yelped when said blonde prat tightened his grip on Harry’s hand. "Ow! What was that for?! "
Malfoy actually had the nerve to smile at him, though the look of worry didn't completely fade from his grey eyes. Which was still baffling Harry. He still couldn't think of any remotely logical reason as to why Draco Malfoy of all people was being worried about the state of his hand.
This didn't seem much like a hallucination, Harry thought, much to his discomfort. And he probably would have woken up by now, had it been a dream.
Perhaps... something had happened to Malfoy? Was he cursed or something? That made even more sense, seeing that Malfoy was the one who was actually acting in a very strange manner. Completely different. Was this someone polyjuiced as Malfoy? Even that made more sense.... whatever this nonsense happening right now did.
Harry pulled himself out of this slump he was falling into when he heard Malfoy sneer at him, and put his hand inside his pocket, pulling out his wand.
"What are you - "
"Relax, Potter, " Malfoy sneered, pointing his wand at Harry's hand.
Harry let out an incredulous laugh. This was getting way more insane by the second.
"You are pointing a wand at my hand, Malfoy, " Harry reasoned with perfect logic. "We've hated each other's guts for the past years, so yeah, sorry if I can't relax, when you point your fucking wand at me. "
Malfoy just rolled his eyes and muttered something, and Harry felt an immense sense of relief wash over his hand. Glancing down, he watched in astonishment as the blood dripping down his arm disappeared. The words carved into his hand were still visible, red and stark, but the painful sting had quite subsided.
Harry studied his now healed hand carefully, and glanced at Malfoy, who looked extremely smug.
Did Malfoy just heal his hand? No, that's not possible. What goddamn reason would Malfoy have to cure his hand? Did he curse his hand with some elaborate Pureblood spell?
But his hand seemed fine. In fact, it felt perfectly okay, now that the pain had been subdued by a great degree. He clenched his hand, smiling in relief as the sharp stab of pain had subsided.
"Wow, that feels great, " Harry exclaimed. He glanced at Malfoy who was still wearing his smug smirk, and gave a small wry nod. "Thanks, Malfoy, "
The blonde boy's smirked deepened. "I couldn't have the Oh great boy who lived bleeding all over the castle. Imagine the stress it would cause poor old Filch, " He gloated.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like I have to believe you did this for the sake of Filch's sanity. No, I think you care about me, " That sounded entirely too bizarre and wrong, but Harry thought he wasn't too faraway from the mark when Malfoy's pale cheeks flushed, and he looked away.
"Don't be ridiculous. Why in the name of Merlin would I care about you? " He snapped, stuffing his wand into his robes.
"Oh, I don't know- why else would you go out of your way to help me?" Harry grinned. It was totally fun, teasing the other boy and making him blush.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Potter. Just don't make it a habit to wander around the halls at midnight, knocking people down. I could have gotten seriously injured, "
Harry snorted. "Forgive me, your Royal Highness. It's okay to get acquainted with the floor once in a while, considering you walk three feet above it, "
"Acquainted? My Potter. That's a big word. Sure you didn't hurt your head, thinking that? " Malfoy smirked.
It was bizarre, them, Malfoy and Harry, actually having a civil conversation that didn't involve them flinging hexes and curses at each other. Ron wouldn't even believe him. He'd accuse Harry of lying. Hermione would believe him, but would seriously send him off for a check up with Pomfrey.
Harry stiffled a yawn, wondering just how late it was. Malfoy noted his yawn and rolled his eyes again.
"Goodness, Potter, cart yourself upto bed, please. Its terribly unattractive to see you yawn like that, " He sneered, but Harry, to his surprise didn't feel annoyed by it. Alright, just a little, but not enough to throw hexes at him.
"Shut up, " He murmured back, but with a lot less heat than earlier.
"Well, you will see the value of my words when you are inevitably even more inattentive at Snape's class tomorrow. " Malfoy smirked. "Maybe you'll land yourself another detention, "
Harry rolled his eyes, and turned to leave, silently acknowledging that Malfoy may have a point. He already had to finish Snape's stupid essay. If he was inattentive at class, and turn in a subpar essay as well, he might be in a lot of hot water. He was leaving when Malfoy called out to him, his voice more uncertain this time.
"You told Dumbledore about Umbridge’s punishment, didn't you? "
Harry whirled around, angered by the mention. It wasn't enough that Hermione was bothering him, now Malfoy as well? He could take care of himself, why did no one get that? Dumbledore had enough on his plate without Harry adding to it.
"There's no need for him to know. I can deal with it, " He snapped at Malfoy who looked taken aback.
"Merlin's beard, Potter! Stop getting so worked up over nothing. I just asked because Blood Quills are forbidden, you know? It's not a simple matter to use it on children. The School Board takes stuff like that seriously, "
Harry frowned at those words. "And you know this because... "
"My Father is a Governor, of course. " Malfoy rolled his eyes. "This school is unsafe anyway, remember that oaf Hagrid's ridiculous bird? "
"I remember you crying like a little baby, all because you couldn't follow simple instructions. " Harry taunted. "Buckbeak was a good Hippogriff, I rode him, remember? "
"Yeah, yeah, Saint Potter, capable of every miraculous feat possible, " Malfoy sneered. "But this place is a deathtrap, don't even refuse, "
Harry would have liked to refuse, but remembering Aragog, Hagrid's monstrous spider, and even the Basilisk, he just scowled. Malfoy did have a point. He turned around to leave when Malfoy called out again.
"Potter, do consider telling at least McGonagall. She's always on your stupid side, so she'll listen. And like I said, Blood Quills are forbidden. "
Harry looked at him shrewdly. Was this Malfoy's way of looking out for him? Something in Harry told him that Malfoy was genuinely trying to help him, like how he had healed Harry’s hand. Was he even telling Hadey a way to get Umbridge out of Hogwarts? Perhaps it wasn't such a terrible idea to go to McGonagall.
He just smiled at the blonde prat, liking how his cheeks flushed again.
"Good night, Malfoy, " Harry said instead of an answer.
Malfoy smiled at him. He actually smiled, instead of that stupid smirk. Harry found out that it was unexpectedly nice to see his pointy features soften by a mundane smile.
"Good night, Potter, "
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Wrote this on ao3, but posted here too :)) Forgot how much I love Drarry to be honest :)
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edosianorchids901 · 1 year
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It's a Set-Up
@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "set the stage"
The first few late night “oh no, I require assistance” calls had seemed normal enough. Crowley dutifully hopped in the Bentley, drove to the shop, and sorted out Aziraphale’s problems. A missing book. Running out of sugar mid-baking. A mishap involving an exploding tea kettle.
The last one had made Crowley suspicious. But the calls just kept coming after that.
An unprecedented desire to organize the shop. A desperate need to clear out some wine and make room for new drinks. Someone to help with a translation, Aziraphale knew the language well enough but would Crowley mind double checking?
No call had come in tonight, though, and Crowley gratefully settled in for a solid night’s sleep. Between lunches, drives in the countryside, and Aziraphale’s mysterious need for midnight aid, Crowley hadn’t gotten much time to himself lately.
He laid down and closed his eyes, savoring the quiet. And then his mobile rang.
Snarling, he rolled over and snatched it. “Wot?”
“Ah, hello! So sorry to trouble you, dear boy.”
Crowley sighed and rubbed his brow, already getting out of bed. “No trouble, angel. What’s up?”
“Oh, it’s so silly, but I think there’s rats in the shop. They usually behave, you know I give them a snack or two out back, but I’m hearing some odd sounds. And, well, you have such a way with the little souls…”
“Yeah, okay. I’m on my way.” Crowley hung up, grinding his teeth. This was ridiculous. What was going on?
The Bentley careened from Mayfair to Soho in a handful of minutes and screeched to a halt outside the bookshop. Crowley hopped out, still tense, and stormed inside.
“Angel?” he called.
“Oh!” Aziraphale rushed out of the kitchenette, hands flailing wildly. “Lord, you arrived rather faster than I expected. I’m not quite ready…”
“Enough. Will you just tell me what’s going on?” Crowley crossed his arms, frowning. “Ready for what?”
“Well…” Aziraphale swallowed hard. “I wanted to ask you something.”
Seriously? “Is this why you’ve been dragging me over here every night? So you could ask me something?”
“No!” And then Aziraphale winced, twisting his hands together. “Well, sort of. I-I-I was setting the stage.”
Crowley crossed the shop, took Aziraphale’s arm, and led him to the sofa. “Setting the stage for what? You know you could just ask me anything, yeah?”
“Oh, I know, but…” Aziraphale gave a nervous laugh. “Well, I was afraid you’d say no. And you’ve always been so eager to rush to my rescue, always so kind to me…”
“Demons aren’t kind,” Crowley grumbled.
“Ah, yes. Which is why you’ve come over each time I called you.” The hazel eyes sparkled with amusement, and Aziraphale smiled. He inched closer on the sofa. “Anyway, I thought I’d start tonight with…”
He snapped his fingers. Wine—really good wine—materialized on the coffee table, along with Crowley’s favorite shortbread. “You’re softening me up, Aziraphale?”
“Setting the stage! It’s only proper to have such things.” Aziraphale wiggled his fingers, then inexpertly produced a rose from behind Crowley’s ear. “Oooohwoosh! Will you move in with me?”
“Will… Will I…” Crowley gaped at him. This was definitely not how he’d expected tonight to go. “You thought that calling me over to deal with rats was a good way to ‘set the stage’? Really?”
“Well, yes! You like rats, and shortbread, and wine. And…” Aziraphale hesitated, lip trembling as he searched Crowley’s face. “And you like me? I hope?”
Any irritation vanished in a heartbeat. Crowley cupped his angel’s cheek, smiling. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, and yes. I like you. I love you.”
Aziraphale’s eyes widened, his whole face brightening. He lunged to kiss Crowley, the motion clumsy and unpracticed.
Crowley kissed him back, equally unpracticed. When they drew apart, Aziraphale wiggled with delight. “Oh, I love you too. But you didn’t answer my question.”
Amused, Crowley pulled off his sunglasses so Aziraphale could see that he was rolling his eyes. “Yep. I’d better. Since you need me to rescue you every night, only makes sense that I just stay here.”
And then he was being kissed again. Still clumsily, but sweetly, and he pulled Aziraphale closer. Alone time might be overrated, and he could get plenty of quiet by keeping Aziraphale’s mouth occupied in this new, fantastic way.
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hypaalicious · 2 years
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ARKNIGHTS IS FINALLY FEEDING US WITH MORE MALE OPERATORS; THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
Okay I meant to scream about this hours ago before I was RUDELY INTERRUPTED by unexpected Tseng thirst, then I had to do language study before Duolingo broke into my apartment with a knife to kill me for breaking my 1500+ day streak, THEN I had to run a few lessons in Twisted Wonderland before midnight rolled around and reset the Flora spellbook Alchemy lessons I needed…
BUT NOW, LET ME TAKE A MOMENT TO FANGIRL- oh shit I need to cycle my base. 😱 Uh… well um, Chile anyway first things first:
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Okay so I thought his name was Czarny and I was like 🤔 “this don’t look like that Kazmierz dude from Maria Nearl event” but then I squinted and his name is actually Czerny so… yeah that tracks.
… HG I swear it’s okay to diversify names a little. LOL
But the DRIP??
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As an Arts Defender isn’t an archetype I use like, at all, he probably won’t see time on the battlefield but he WILL see time in my bedroom.
SilverAsh: 😒
… I mean, uh… in theory. Yes.
Anyway, he’s a music teacher and ofc it puts me in mind of my old vocal coach in China whom I miss dearly. So Czerny is going to be “Crazy Musical Genius” in my head.
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Then look at THIS gothic sir looking to unseat Phantom for Terra’s Next Top Edgelord. TWOOOO male Operators?? In one event?
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Now ofc this makes me kinda wary that HG is gonna be like “WELP we’ve reached our yearly quota of husbandos” after this and just inundate us with nothing but waifus for the rest of the year which would make me sad. But I’m also still hopeful this starts a trend of having at LEAST one male Operator per new event or something. The female to male ratio in Arknights is less than equal and while I know most of the fanbase is cishet male, I like to eat, too. 🥲
Also the art is BUSSIN’ like:
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Every single time I don’t think HG can get better, they go “Hold my beer”. And the soundtrack for Lingering Echoes is PHENOMENAL. Walk in the Dust has me in a chokehold but this is probably going to unseat it.
They DID THAT.
Edit: FORGOT, AOSTA FINALLY IS GETTING A SKIN
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Thank god this boy got clothes that actually fits him now. 😭 Kirara’s skin is also bussin’, my OP does not stand a CHANCE whenever this comes to Global.
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atherix0 · 2 years
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hello :3 nothing better than waking up to a new midnight series update. and coming back from work to another update, i get so happy whenever you post something new<3
also . grian and mumbo in the previous one<3 grian got his homoerotic wing preening yess that's what he deserves!! god they're both so possessive and fucked up in the head and completely in love with each other<3 and it's soo grian that he didn't just straight up said he wants mumbo but decided to use bird language instead to show him .
they went to visit scar in his shop!! AND TUBBO IS HEREEE MY BOY!!! :D SCAR IS HAVING MORE DAD MOMENTS YESSSS. they make me so happy, dad scar is everything to me fr. but poor mumbo, i felt so bad for him in that scene:( hope he gets the chance to co-parent tubbo in the future . hehehe
grian and mumbo saw scar with his hair braided and thought "i sure hope this doesn't awaken anything in me" LMAO. who can blame them though, scar is really pretty and he deserves to be complimented all the time<3 and scar's reaction was so cute, it's probably a very high praise to compliment an elf on their hair because it's so important to them. also i'm so happy they got to see dad scar in action. tubbo and grian are so silly together hehe. grian is the type of guy who would always side with tubbo just to annoy scar lmaoo
scar let them into his home…. it means so much especially considering scar is a rather private person and he likes to keep his personal life to himself. plus he's super protective of tubbo. but he trusts grian and mumbo enough to let them into his home when he's not ever there
MUMBO IS DOING RESEARCH ABOUT THE FAE HE'S SO SWEET AHHH he tries so hard to understand scar. the mental image of mumbo sitting in his room and reading long ass books about the fae just so he can know more about scar and avoid possibly offending him…. he's so dear to me . i don't think scar is the only one obsessed hehe
they went on another date<3 and scar rambling about history and architecture??? he's just like me oh my godd i'm a big history nerd, i would listen to him anytime .
the woman who touched grian's wing made me so mad . and she hates scar too, like, pick a struggle. but protective scar<3 i'm obsessed with scar being all serious and scary because it's such a contrast to his usual personality. like you see him being all nice and silly but once you hurt the people he cares about, he will murder you in cold blood. feral little elf
JOEL AND LIZZY ARE HEREE!! i love how scar just gives people these silly nicknames. and cleo mention ahh she used to babysit scar?? that's. definitely interesting. plus mumbo being sooo petty HELP he takes his ties very seriously, don't insult them Ever
scar invited them to a sleepover at his place this time<3 he invited them to sleep in his home, in his own bed… yeah i'm normal about this . they are so domestic already and they aren't even dating yet
ohhh and if you would ever want more song recs that remind me of your series, i have some<3 you mentioned a playlist and i like making character playlists smile. it will come back by hozier is a very midnight!scar song. likeee your scar has the energy of a feral animal that's desperate for affection and once he gets some, he will always yearn for more. and that song has that kind of vibe. it's like saying "don't give me affection, don't care for me 'cause if you do, i might just stay with you forever and it will be the worst thing that happens to you. i'll keep coming back and i'll always want more so it's better not to love me at all". so very scar vibes. sorry i love talking about music :3
aand this ask got really long, i'm physically incapable of Not Rambling. gotta live up to the name essay anon huh .
Hii welcome back <3 I love coming home to your asks so in joy we are equally matched!
Yessss <3 Grian be like "how to ask him to be mine. Oh I know, I'll be Bird." Luckily Mumbo's sharp and noticed because a certain someone else definitely would not have picked up on that wrecking ball of a hint lmao. They are so possessive and I love it, they're equally matched in that regard and absolutely love that about each other <3 This possessive/jealous tendency of both of theirs might come back to bite them later on when they realize they love another person and don't know how to bring this up buuut <3 (Grian and Mumbo have one possessive partner, Scar gets two lmao but Scar loves it, he loves feeling wanted and seeing them get all weird possessive/jealous just absolutely is so- hh hjkkgdfslk)
I NEED MORE DAD!SCAR. Their relationship to each other is either chaotic and hilarious or tender and sweet, lemme tell ya there's a scene in my head with them that WILL make you cry. I know because I haven't even written it yet and it gets me tearing up <3 Mumbo </3 It might be a little late to coparent Tubbo, being that Tubbo's 19 now, but he will absolutely be an amazing second/third dad <3 And he may or may not become a dad to other kids later hjgfdkj
They took one look at his outfit and realized he's REALLY PRETTY when he's NOT wearing THAT, but you know the braid is nice, keep the braid- Oh gods yes, complimenting an Elf's hair is <3 <3 Also helps who the compliments came from ofc but <3 There are many compliments in Scar's future, he'll just have to get used to them <3 He absolutely is. They bring out the worst in each other but in the best way <3 they're both chaos gremlins and they double the chaos when they're together <3 Now accepting prayers for Mumbo and Scar <3
YES it's an extension of trust, a little contrast to a few stories ago when he divided his life in two and basically said they weren't part of this side of his life <3 He's letting them in to THIS SIDE of his life, the side of his life that has his magic shop and his son and his house full of plants and photographs and all the soft moments he's never let them see before and just AGH-
HE IS. He was serious when he said they'd start over, and he doesn't want to take any steps back because he cares so much <3 It's even better when you consider the fact that I insinuated in Midnight Ambush that accurate books about the Fae is hard to come by.... <3 He put EFFORT into finding the right books, like <3 Haha oh no, he certainly isn't <3 And he won't be the more obvious one for long-
YESSS I love history too I could listen to someone ramble passionately about the city they call home for hours <3 Grian and Mumbo can too but only because it's Scar speaking hjfdskj
She is the worst kind of Human smh, just a little reminder that the non-Supernatural world still exists and is just as full of bad as the Supernatural one <3 One of my favorite writing/movie tropes is OOC is Serious, I love when people switch gears and go dangerous scary when someone they care about is in danger <3 And that was just over someone grabbing Grian's wing, imagine if someone frikkin stabs him haha not like that's gonna happen right-
I LOVE THEM SO MUCH <3 Lizzie is a Chaos Gremlin too, she has absolutely embraced being Mrs. Beans <3 Scar will give everyone a nickname, no exceptions. Well, except Cleo, because reasons lmao. YEAH the Cleo thing will be explained more in the future but Cleo is like a reeaallly old Vampire, like she's older than Mumbo. I can't explain much more than that ofc without spoilers but haha I like irony- MUMBO IS PETTY he's wonderful lmaooo hjfd
More than that HE INVITED THEM IN HIS ROOM. After Mumbo had already told Grian how the Fae feel about their private spaces- Scar invited them to stay in his room <3 That's like one step away from just cuddling like- (jk jk BUT)
Send me any songs that make you think of Midnight Series in any way, shape or form, even if it's just one character in the tiniest bridge of the song <3 HJFSJKS Scar is absolutely affection-starved and has so many issues, he tried pushing Grian away at first but after he started accepting Grian's friendship/affection he couldn't stand to lose it <3 bbyy (this fact also going in hand with the fact that Scar loves feeling wanted by his partners and their jealousy/possessiveness/tendency to leave marks makes him way too happy for any healthily-adjusted adult. He doesn't even do it on purpose they're just Like That <3 they're all a little messed up but jhgfdkj)
It's okay I love the rambles~! <3 It gives me a chance to ramble, too, so! Haha <3 I love to read your essays, Anon <3
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beels-burger-babe · 3 years
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Storm Clouds on a Sunny Day
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***Oooooo Teen!MC! Thank you for the request @lovevictoire! Now, although I think I'm technically Gen z??? (I could be a millennial. I have no idea). I have like 0 sense of most pop culture and probably won't be able to write that classic gen z chaotic humour properly, so I'm not going to attempt. What I can do is the hurt/comfort aspect of this which I LOVE! So, let's do this. I hope you enjoy it. ((Oh and before I forget *hugs*))***
Summary: MC has always been a happy positive ray of light that brought joy with them wherever they went; at least that's what the brothers and the other exchange students would tell you. But when they suddenly start getting quiet and begin isolating themselves, everyone is concerned.
TW: descriptions of grief.
In the darkness of the Devildom, you were the sun.
Since arriving in the dark, cruel world of the demons, you had reminded them how to smile, how to laugh, how to love. With you around, it was like the brothers had another sibling again. For the other exchange students, you were a breath of fresh amongst all the horror and despair of the Devildom.
In short, everyone had come to love and be incredibly fond of the teenage human that; which is why they noticed instantly when you weren't acting like yourself.
For starters, you had skipped breakfast, which greatly concerned Beel. The friendly giant had to go up and bring you your food afterwards.
He gently knocked on your door with one hand as he held a plate with way too much food on it in the other. "MC? Are you awake? You missed breakfast."
There was a small curse from the other side before he heard some shuffling. The door cracked open to reveal you wrapped in a bundle of blankets. It wasn't until you looked up that Beel got a good look at your face and his stomach dropped.
Your eyes were tinged red with tear tracks stained onto your cheeks. Your bottom lip was still trembling from the effort of not breaking down into sobs. There was not a trace of the sunshine child that you usually were inside of your stormy sad eyes.
Beel's heart broke as you still attempted to give him a small smile and took the plate from him. "Th-Thanks Beel."
He kept a hand on the door to prevent you from closing it. "MC, are you alright? What happened?"
Your eyes widened a little and you quickly wiped at your cheeks. "I-I'm just not feeling that well. Can...Can you tell Lucifer I'm taking a sick day?"
Beel nodded as concern grew stronger and stronger inside of him. "Of course. Whatever you need."
You weren't actually sick, Beel could tell that much. What you were was heartbroken. Something had reached into your soul and shattered it into pieces. He to ask you what it was. He wanted to reassure you that everything would be okay. But instead, he let you close the door and hurried back to his brothers.
His brothers looked at him skeptically as he arrived, noting the lack of a tiny human alongside him. It was Belphie, however, who noticed the distressed look on Beelzebub's face. "Beel, is everything alright? You look upset."
Beel simply shook his head and looked over to Lucifer. "MC has asked me to tell you that they would like to take a sick day."
Everyone was instantly on their feet in worry.
"Sick? What kind of illness? I can get any medicine they might need and look up the quickest way for them to recover." Satan quickly stated as he began to move towards the kitchen.
Belphie nodded and picked up his pillow. "If they're sick, they'll need rest right? I'll go up there and help them sleep better."
Mammon moved to go with Belphie. "I'll come with ya. They'll feel better with if their favourite's there with them."
Belphie growled and shoved Mammon as Levi spoke up. "I-I mean, I doubt they'd want to spend the entire day with me, but at the very least I can provide them with some movies and games for entertainment. In fact, it might be easier if we just, um, m-move them to my room."
Mammon and Belphie were now snapping at Levi rather than each other.
Asmo scrunched up his nose in disgust and put up his hands. "Yeah, no thanks. I love MC, but I'll leave you guys to handle all the snot and vomit thank you very much. Tell them when they're healthy, I'll give them a spa day, just the two of us."
Lucifer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Boys, Beel hadn't even told us what is wrong with them yet," everyone froze and turned to Beelzebub. Lucifer nodded and gestured for him to continue. "As you were saying, Beel."
Beel shifted uncomfortably at the attention. "Right. So, I don't think they're actually sick."
Lucifer rose an eyebrow at this as an air of defence grew around him. "You think they would lie?"
Beel huffed in annoyance and shook his head. "No. I don't think they would. But when they answered the door, they didn't look sick. They looked like they were grieving," everyone breathed in sharply at the statement, but Beel continued. "They honestly looked like they had been crying since midnight. I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't get any sleep at all last night."
Lucifer frowned and finally made a move towards the door. "I, and I alone, will go speak with them. We don't want to overcrowd them. In the meantime, someone please contact Simeon just in case they truly are sick and Beel misinterpreted it," he ignored the several shouts of protest as he walked to your room.
He knocked softly on the door twice before carefully opening the door. "MC? Beelzebub informed me that you aren't feeling-"
Lucifer cut himself off as he saw you hugging your knees to your chest in bed, sobbing your heart out. He quickly made his way over and sat down beside you, gently placing a hand on your back. "MC, what's the matter? I've never seen you this upset before."
You didn't answer. You merely turned towards him and buried your face in his chest as you clung to his shirt. Lucifer quickly wrapped his arms around you and held you tight.
It was almost as if he could feel your sorrow within the sounds of your cries. The way they shuttered and cracked with every inhale and vibrated with pure agony on every exhale. You were trembling violently in his arms in a way that he hadn't felt since-
Since he held his brothers after Lilith's death.
Realization came to him as he glanced over and noticed the lightly crumped picture of you and another human on your side table. His breath caught in his throat and he held you tighter. "Oh MC," he whispered softly. "I am so sorry."
He held you there, letting your tears stain his shirt without a single care. He held you as your sobs softened into sniffles. He held you as your head lolled to the side and you finally gave in to sleep.
Lucifer had been about to fall asleep himself when he noticed the door open. Simeon, Luke and Solomon stood there with equal expressions of concern.
Luke took one look at your tear-stained face before a flicker of fury and angelic protectiveness flashed across his face. He opened his mouth to shout at Lucifer, but was stopped as a hand came over his mouth.
Solomon looked down at him sternly. "They're sleeping, Luke, and clearly in need of it. You don't want to wake them."
Luke huffed and slapped Solomon's hand away before going over to the bed and climbing in beside you and Lucifer.
Simeon pulled out a bag that clinked and clattered from the vials within it. "Satan had said that there was a possibility MC was ill?"
Lucifer sighed and continued to rub circles into your back while Luke gently dried your face with a handkerchief. "Unfortunately it seems the only illness they have is a broken heart." He nodded to the picture on the nightstand. "They appear to have lost someone. Today must be an anniversary of some sort that reminded them of it."
Both Solomon and Simeon's faces softened at the explanation. Simeon put the bag away. "I'm afraid I don't have anything that can help with that."
Solomon nodded. "It's a feeling I believe we are all familiar with," he stood in silent thought before snapping his fingers and grinning. "I know what will cheer them up! Some soup! It most certainly cheers me up whenever I'm upset. I'll go make them a pot right away," he smiled proudly as he left the room, missing the look of horror on everyone else's face.
"Oh my," Simeon began, "I better go supervise and make sure he doesn't accidentally poison them. Luke, do you wish to come?"
He shook his head and hugged you. "I'm not leaving them."
Simeon smiled fondly and glanced up to Lucifer who shrugged. "So long as he doesn't mind being the presence of a demon, I suppose he can stay."
Luke grumbled and continued looking at your hand as he held his up to it and compared sizes. "If they were able to fall asleep around you and you were able to comfort them...maybe you're not so bad."
Simeon raised an eyebrow in shock and laughed a little. "Well there you have it," he looked back to Lucifer. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."
He nodded and watched the older angel leave.
@thegrimgrinningghost
Although the day was a rough one for you, there was not a second where you felt alone. There was always someone to hold you, to listen to you, and comfort you when you needed it most.
On days when sadness and despair threatened to cloud over the Devildom's only source of sunshine, the lords of the Devildom and your friends would be there to keep you warm until the sun could shine again.
***I hope you enjoyed this cute little comfort fic! Thanks again for the request @lovevictoire!***
TAGLIST
@henry-and-the-seven-lords
@satans-beloved-riv
@cosmixbun
@sufzku
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starshapedkookie · 4 years
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Southpaw
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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. 
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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 2 years
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Dialogue prompt 13- “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed” || Fluff || 8th year fic || Friend's to Lover.
The sound of the train settled down as the students got off the train and went over to retrieve the bags. It had been a delightful winter holidays for everyone but now it was nothing more than learning defense against the dark arts in the courtyard full of people. 
Harry like the rest had been picking up his bag when his shoulder bag slipped off his back and he was leaning down to pick it up when Draco helped him up.
“Thanks.” Harry smiled taking his bag from Draco. 
Draco smiled back equally politely, “Good holidays?” 
“Yeah, you?” 
And they walked back into the castle talking about what happened over their holidays while their friends walked behind them with a knowing smile. 
_____________________________________
“I’m going down to the library, you coming?” Harry asked as he put his books in his shoulder bag and slinging across. 
“I think I’m going to call it a night.” Ron told him and Harry nodded and left the place. 
He was looking for a place to sit down somewhere in the far end, away from the people with a stack of books in his hand, when he saw Draco sitting alone. 
“Can I join?” 
Draco looked up from his paper and nodded, making space for Harry. 
“Alone?”
“Pansy didn’t want to come along. She said she was too tired from the lessons and I’m a little behind.” Draco told him. 
Harry nodded in agreement, settling down in front of him, “Things have been a little too much recently,” 
“Right? I thought I was the only one but its been hard keeping up with Ms. Plunett’s class.” 
“Oh, who are you kidding, you’re the head boy, you’re almost always at the front,” 
“Yeah, right, like you aren’t her favorite already. I can bet, even if you face plant in your paper, she would give you a full score.” Draco rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing. 
Harry chuckled, nodding along, “Lets hope i’m just her favorite student and nothing more, if you know what I mean.” 
Draco raised his eyebrows and pushed his quill a little to the side, “Oh please enlighten me with what do you mean?” 
“Oh come on, you’re doing it purposely. You know what I mean.” Harry said with an obvious roll of his eyes. 
Draco teased him further, “I don’t. Please, I’m dying to know what you meant?” 
Harry laughed lightly, shaking his head. 
“Oh please, I really want to know how Ms. Plunett just gets lost in your green eyes and your beautiful smile, or how you talk.” Draco started laughing by the end along with Harry. 
“She does not think that, I’m sure of that.” Harry replied trying to control his laugh. 
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure she doesn’t. I’m pretty sure she’s always doodling in her notebook the plans to get you into one of the broom closets-”  
“Draco!” Harry exclaimed, throwing an unused quill at Draco who could not stop laughing at all. 
“Just do your work.” Harry tried saying sternly but he was trying to hide his smile.
“Oh- I better get to work. After all she doesn’t have a crush on everyone-” 
“Draco!” 
And then they finally did get down to work, knowing they had plenty unfinished assignments and a lot to look forward to this week. They were so comfortable working alongside each other that they didn’t even realise that it was past midnight and their dorm curfew was 11:30.
“What trouble would you get into? You can make up a lie, like you were on a round.” Harry suggested walking out of the library along with Draco. 
“Right and how does it sound if I say, Headboy does rounds only on Friday?” Draco raised his eyebrows at Harry. 
“Oh please, It’s not like its a rule-” 
“We are marked.” 
Harry huffed out loudly then pulled out the invisibility cloak from his bag, “Never tell anyone I covered for you.” 
“Oh believe me, I won’t.” 
They walked quietly towards their shared common rooms, even passed by a prefect around the corner of the corridor but managed to keep their peace. It was only when they reached Draco’s room, they pulled out from under cloak, Draco said, 
“I- just want to thank you for this and for tonight. It was fun with you.” 
“Likewise.” Harry smiled. 
He was about to turn away and walk back to his own room, when Draco stopped him,
"Hey, would you ever- you know- want to just do something?"
"Together?" Harry asked, furrowing.
"Yeah, together." Draco suggested again.
"Like you want to sort of hangout together?" Harry asked dumb folded.
Draco remained silent for a second then nodded, "Yeah like a hangout. You and me, could go to Hogsmeade."
"Sure. How about this Saturday?"
Draco nodded in agreement, "See you on Saturday then."
Harry walked away after that, slightly confused yet appeased.
________________________________
When Saturday finally came along, Harry and Draco decided to meet in front of Honeydukes in Hogsmeade.
"So, what are we going to do?" Harry asked.
Draco turned his head around and then pointed towards the cliff behind Hogsmeade, "We're gonna go there and sit down and eat our cupcakes."
"that's all?" Harry asked.
Draco nodded.
"We could've done that in the common room as well you know."
"Yeah, but then it would not have been the same, you know. There's a beautiful sunset, it's a nice view. It's a good day to be out. Besides it's better without all the students walking around."
Harry nodded after a while as if he finally got his point.
They walked towards the cliff with not so many kids around and settled down with the best view of Hogwarts and the sunset.
"It's pretty." Harry smiled.
"Told you, it's a nice day to be out." Draco smiled back.
They didn't talk for a while where they finished their cupcakes and set the empty cups aside.
Harry had leaned behind over the palm of his hands and his legs stretched forward when Draco suddenly said,
"Has anyone ever complimented your eyes?"
"Well a lot of people says that I got it from my mom but I don't think it's supposed to be a compliment." Harry shrugged.
"They're pretty though." Draco said casually with a small smile.
"I don't even know the exact shade of them."
"Well, they're sort of emerald but like there's a tinge of olive green around the corners but it's also a little blue if you carefully notice." Draco replied, leaning in a little further so he was downright staring into Harry's eyes.
Harry gazed back at Draco and then suddenly nodded, "Thank you for telling me that. That was a very detailed answer."
Draco went back to his original position, playing with the hem of his jeans.
"Have you ever seen a sunset with someone before?" Draco asked again.
Harry shook his head, "Not like this. It's nice," he smiled. "You?"
Draco shook his head, "Never found anyone to watch it with."
"Really? None of your friends ever wanted to see a sunset before?" Harry asked curiously.
"I mean- sunsets aren't supposed to be seen with friends you know,"
"Then who are they supposed to be seen with? Parents?" Harry asked.
Draco breathed in sharply and turned to Harry, "No, but like people you want to see it with. And not your friends. Like special people."
"Define special people?" Harry asked.
"The kind of people you want to specially take out and see with. You can be with your friends everyday but there are some people you're not with everyday but you want to spend more time with them." Draco tried explaining.
"Ah, so, that's like people you like from afar but you don't hangout with them much?"
Draco nodded hesitantly, "Sort of, yes."
"So you don't have that kind of special people?" Harry asked.
Draco shook his head, "Not really."
"Why?"
Draco shrugged, "Can't be sure why."
Harry nodded understandably.
"Who else do you think have pretty eyes?" Harry asked.
"Uh- well there's you, then maybe- Luna I guess."
"She does have pretty eyes. I think even Pansy have pretty eyes."
"She does, yeah."
Then they went silent again and this time Draco chose to break it, again.
"You have unusually small feet."
"I do. But it's not like I'm that tall either so they're fine." Harry shrugged.
"I think you have a standard height. It's like, it's perfect."
"Why, thank you. You have a good height too." Harry smiled lightly.
"Your hands?"
"What about my hands?" Harry asked, closing in and bringing his hands towards Draco.
"They're- small too."
"They're not that small. It's only like an inch smaller than yours." Harry said.
Draco took his hands in his own and compared it, "They look cute." He chuckled.
Harry smiled again, "Thank you,again."
"You know, I noticed, you've been complimenting me too much."
"Me? No." Draco gasped.
"Really? I think you are. It's not unusual but you do it sometimes quite a lot. It's one thing I like about you." Harry said.
Draco looked at Harry for a moment then nodded, not knowing what he should've said.
The wind picked up after that, making Harry's hair blow all over his face that one last time, Draco took his chance and pushed it behind his ear while Harry watched him do it.
"Thank you. Again."
Draco shrugged and took his hands back to his sides.
"It's been nice to be out here with you." Draco said.
"Likewise. We should do this often." Harry said.
Draco smiled at Harry and nodded.
"Though, maybe we should invite someone else too." Harry suggested.
Draco reluctantly nodded, "sure yeah- I mean- yeah, it'll be great."
Harry nodded again but only for once, confusion came over him.
"You don't mind it though, do you? I mean I like us hanging out too."
"No, you're right. We should totally invite other people too." Draco nodded vigorously.
"wait- Draco-"
"Are you flirting with me?" Harry asked as realisation hit him.
Draco could've denied but he was done with how dense Harry was being, "You finally noticed." He replied with a sigh.
"All this time?"
"All this time. I've been trying to flirt with you since the begining of the year but you just don't get it. You know for someone who's supposed to be really clever, you're very very dense."
"How was I supposed to know you were flirting with me! It's not like you were making it obvious!" Harry exclaimed.
"Yeah, because you go to see sunsets with everyone and friends compliments each other's eyes. You're daft, Harry, like really daft."
"Are you still flirting with me? Because sarcasm is sort of your flirt language?"
Draco shook his head laughing, "I don't flirt with sarcasm."
"Ah- maybe you should." Harry joked.
They laughed for a while, holding onto their stomach for their dear life until it had finally dissolved and they were simply smiling at each other.
"We should do this again and I promise this time I'll know we're going on a date."
Draco fondly laughed, "I should hope you know now."
"I promise I will and you know what, I'll even catch up when you're flirting with me."
"You promise?" Draco asked, teasing.
"I promise." Harry crossed his heart.
"You have a beautiful smile." Draco complimented.
Harry gazed at him then leaned forward, "that's such a beautiful thing to say, I'm swooned-"
"Harry!" Draco whined.
But Harry tipped his head off laughing again.
"You really are daft." Draco shook his head but he still couldn't help being completely love struck by this boy who had absolutely no idea when he was flirting with him but then again, Draco would do it all over again, and again and again, because Harry was just worth it.
MASTERLIST/ REQUEST OPEN
Tagging people for reaches, kindly ignore if you want <3
@drarrywords @silver-de-vonne @phoebe-delia @poljupci @chinike @wheezykat @elenaxoxo22 @thecornerofbelu @nv-md @i-just-wanna-have-fae-bf @upon-poppyhills @littlebodybigheartttt @lilthislilthat @cissa-bee @cluelesspigeons @nin0tchka @missdrarrydawn @draco-and-harry-malfoy-pottah @harryandginnydeservesbetter @draco-lucious-potter @briankinneysimp @ravena-wrote @textrovert-01
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caelimonoceros · 3 years
Text
moonlight — childe
pairing: childe x gn!reader
wc: 1.9k
tags: fluff, it’s just fluff, established relationship, i guess a lil light angst if you squint, childe lovable dork number one
notes: of course my first piece is about childe my one and only…my beloved…please come give me some constellations <3 pls enjoy! i’m planning on writing some more similar pieces with some other characters but i really wanted to post this one now tehe…interacts/reblogs appreciated!
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Just as the moon guides the tides in and out of the shore, she pulls you to him—Childe, quiet in his solitude and unsuspectingly calm on the beach.
You find him on the beach just north of Liyue Harbor, on a long stretch of tan sand with a sheet spread out under him. Uneven rocks pin down the corners of the makeshift sand-protection, and you can make out the shape of the Harbinger’s jacket and boots settled next to him.
Upon hearing your soft footsteps crunching on the sand, Childe perks up. The slight curve of his posture, betraying a weeks-old exhaustion, straightens into a bright smile and a cheery wave, the welcoming facade he throws around to unsuspecting strangers who won’t ever make the plunge into the depths of his heart. Blue eyes, blue like the ocean and the cosmos and the frost on your skin after too many hours spent trekking around Dragonspine, pierce the dim night, only lit up by the small lantern next to him and the faint blue glow of his vision. They give his skin an unearthly glow, the warm light of the lantern bringing out copper highlights in his hair while the blue of his vision drives deep shadows into the far side of his face.
The night is peaceful in its simplicity, watched by the careful eyes of the moon and her starry companions. Childe’s smile brightens as you settle next to him, kicking off your own shoes and stretching out across the oversized blanket. Your own bag, full of warm midnight snacks and soft blankets, hits the ground as you do, and rolls with a soft thud.
“You made it,” Childe inches closer, quick to put his hand over yours and fold your fingers together. You let him, settling your joined hands over one of your thighs and sitting to lean against his shoulder.
“Yea. The slimes didn’t drench me.” You huff, eyes pointed out towards the water; then slowly drifting over to him.
“Well, since the slimes didn’t get to you, I was thinking…” Childe rubs a gloved thumb over the back of your hand, directing your attention. The leather is rough against your skin, worn equally from working a weapon and signing bank documents.
“Your ideas are always awful. I wanna know,” you lean into him.
“Midnight swim!” He says cheerfully, pointing out towards the water with his free hand. “The weather has been so warm lately that I’m sure the water will be as well. Plus, it’s just the two of us! Wouldn't that be nice?” Oh, you don’t want to crush his dreams and his eager, giddy smile, but you are not going in that water. No thanks, you are perfectly content to stay warm and dry on your big, spread out blanket and watch Childe make a shivering fool of himself before he comes back and soaks his half of the blanket.
“I’m not going in the water, especially not in my clothes, Childe. It’s cold out.” Childe blinks at you, as if he doesn’t understand the problem for a moment before sighing, as if he knew this would be your answer.
“Fine. But I’m going to go in, and I'm sure you’ll join me in no less than five minutes!” He says it so confidently, living up to his namesake so easily that it makes you swallow down laughter. The tall Fatui makes sure to blow you a dramatic kiss from the water’s edge, before he turns his back entirely. Really, you are completely content to watch him enjoy himself in the shallows. It’s refreshing to see him so light on his feet and in his words.
The soft moonlight illuminates his back, drawing out the folds of his dark shirt. The metal accessories around his belt glimmer in the cool light as well, twinkling like stars at you, but you’re almost mesmerized as you chase the patterns of moonlight across his ever-moving form. The water is so clear, reflecting him and the mountains situated behind you, every trace of silvery-white light that dances down an uneven slope or a curving tree branch rippling amongst your lover’s own reflection.
“You know, the water’s still warm!” Childe calls after a few minutes of peace. He’s rolled his pants up to just under his knees, but they’re still being soaked by waves of water. From your warm, dry, position on the shore you’re inclined to protest, but a shimmer in cerulean eyes not brought on by the moon or stars cuts your words before they can begin. He begins making his way over to you, sloshing through the water and then up onto the sand.
“C’mon, just stick your feet in. I promise I won’t let you drown.” You roll your eyes at his proposition; the way he walks so arrogantly over to you and crouches ever so slightly, extending a hand to you. He’s tracked wet sand onto your clean, safe haven, and his wet pants are dripping seawater on your bare shins, but you still hold your tongue all the same.
“Please? It’ll be fun. You don’t have to, but I think you’d enjoy it.” The Fatui offers his hand with a little bit of a wave this time, and you give in to his easy smile and comforting presence. It’s hard not to, hard to resist the way he sweeps you into the ocean, the same way he’s already swept you away entirely like a pebble torn from shore.
The water is still warm, but it’s still much cooler than your skin and you shudder as you’re exposed to it much too quickly. Childe’s grip on your hand is too tight, his excitement adorably obvious as you come to a halt some ten feet into the water, where it rises just above your hips.
“See? It’s not bad at all.” Childe leans down, his face mere inches from yours, and sticks his tongue out playfully. You resist the urge to pinch it between your thumb and forefinger, instead flicking his forehead gently, just enough for him to recoil as if you’ve shot him and dramatically clasp a hand over his head.
“It’s not bad at all,” you mimic, unable to stop yourself from laughing at the ginger’s over-the-top reaction. Cute, he’s so cute sometimes and you doubt he truly knows it, cute when he drops something from his chopsticks or shoots an arrow into the ground or trips over a loose rock when he’s pretending not to stare at you. Cute when his guard is down, when he’s not a battle-hardened warrior and traces of the myth you know to be named Ajax are allowed through the ever-present cracks in his facade. Just as you’re lost in thought, a spray of salty water meets your face, and you close your eyes and cross an arm over your forehead quickly.
“That was uncalled for!” You complain, but it trails off into laughter as you return the splash back at Childe.
“Hey, your aim’s not half bad!” He’s even quicker to fire back, and soon the water around you both churns enough to drown out your shared laughter. Your clumsy feet, weighed down by your movements kick up sand and cloud the water, and you brush grit from your face and hair after a particularly well-aimed splash flattens it down your back.
“That’s practically an insult, coming from you.”
“My aim isn’t that bad!” Fake offense riddles his tone, one hand placed over his poor, scandalized heart.
“Will you be less arrogant if I tell you I’m enjoying myself?” You dodge most of another splash, but even when you’re complaining you find your jaw beginning to ache from a wide smile.
“So much for staying out of the water,” Childe taunts, gesturing to the soaking mess you’ve become. He’s no better, water dripping down his face in rivulets, blinking the salt away from his eyes instinctively and pushing the wet hair back from his view.
“This is your fault, you know,” you tell him, but the complaint holds little water. He lets you splash him again, a full wave that hits against his chest, and you take another step closer to him—just close enough for him to hook a gangly leg around your own and pull you down, spinning gracefully and catching you just as your hair begins to fan out in the water. One arm holds securely under the middle of your back, while the other settles on your hip.
“You just can’t stay away from me, I know.” The smug confidence he wears is equally endearing and enraging. You begin to counter him with an asshole—, one hand moving up to poke his cheek, but before you can make contact he completely retracts his arms and you submerge with a shriek. When you come up moments later, coughing and spluttering in surprise, Childe is laughing so hard that he’s bent over with his hands on his knees. He’s completely unsuspecting, the perfect target for you to grab the back of his head and shove his face into the water, too.
Except, Childe topples over his own long legs, the two of you falling down messily and his head bumping against your knee as you land flat on your butt. He makes a face, rubbing his cheeks as he kneels. Despite how you joke around, it’s clear that the bump actually hurt, and you can’t help but feel a little pang of guilt at the genuine pain he displayed. Holding his head, Childe moves closer, until he’s easily looming over you with your hands braced against the sand and the water level just under your chin.
“You’re so difficult,” he sighs, your foreheads pressed together. The feeling of salt grinding between your skin is just on the edge of unpleasant, but nowhere near enough to make you back away. “Nearly gave me a black eye there.”
“Aren’t we both?” You smile in response, cupping a cool, wet hand over the cheek he’d hit on your leg. His eyes flutter closed, and he breathes out a sigh against your nose as tension visibly drains from his shoulders. It’s like the final traces of his daily life have fallen away with just your touch—gone is the hedonistic Childe, the calculating Tartaglia, leaving only the scattered fragments of a Snezhnayan boy far from home. Even at peace, there’s a longing in the way he looks at you—eyes wide as if in disbelief, unable to hold your gaze with all of his defenses stripped down.
“Yea. We are,” he concedes—so quiet that you barely make out the words over the sound of the wind and the soft movements of water. Difficult, and he’s right: nothing involving a Fatui Harbinger will ever be easy.
“I think you’re well worth the trouble,” you confess, letting your eyes meet his. They don’t shy away this time, there’s a blue fire blazing somewhere in the back of his soul that warms your cheeks and has your free hand clenching the sand underneath. Certainly well worth the trouble, for all of the moments he looks at you like this—holding the intensity of a thousand suns and all of the love and guidance offered by the moon, an entire universe dancing in his usually lifeless eyes.
And the trouble is most worth it when Ajax—not Childe, not Tartaglia, but Ajax, closes the miniscule gap and kisses you under the witness of the moon—you can be at ease.
“I am?” He teases, a whisper against your lips. You roll your eyes before the hand on his cheek slips to the back of his head, and you pull him close once more.
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ktheist · 3 years
Text
finale — show me yours & i’ll show you mine
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➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung
➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.
➙ word. 2.1k
➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |
➙ synopsis. 
“show me yours and i’ll show you mine.”
x
“be nice," taehyung mouths across from you as he sits next to mina.
the red handprints on his cheeks becoming more apparent with each passing minute. it was half-believable to say taehyung fell face first in the snow, got stuck there for more than two minutes and voila, sported a red face upon your return to the kim’s.
but now, you’re just lucky no one’s pointing out the very obvious palm shaped mark on his pudgy cheeks as he stuffs his face with food.
“oh, mina, do you have any plans tomorrow? you could stay over and spend christmas morning with us," mrs kim asks as she passes the bowl of the roasted potatoes seokjin’s been boasting about.
“o-oh,” the brunette stammers, holding the fork with both hands as if citing a prayer of hope, “no, i couldn’t intrude on you any longer.”
“no such thing, we’re all family here.” mrs kim waves a dismissive hand and even that brief gesture feels warm, “___’s mother and i have known your mother since we were kids and i watch you two grow up with my boys - you’re basically  daughters i never had,” she shoots you a smile, eyes crinkling in the corners.
not seeing the remark coming, you end up almost choking on the mushroom soup you’re just in the middle of enjoying.
“i can’t say i’d love to have tae as a sibling but here we are,” you jest, half-heartedly while laughter erupts from everyone at the table.
if there’s a god, please don’t let mrs kim find out i fucked her oldest son.
“i heard yuukal co is interested in your flower arrangements and wanna buy exclusive rights to have you deliver them to the company whenever they have an event lined up?” namjoon chirps up, dimples digging into his cheek as he digs into his 
“the secretary of yuukal co was an acquaintance of mine in college, that’s probably why.” the brunette says shyly, pushing her hair to the back of her ear.
“so, you’re not planning on going back to college?” 
but it’s your voice that makes her blink once and stare at you like you’re some tricky math question.
“what- oh,” she shakes her head, as if shaking away the trance that delayed her response, “i don’t know, my major has nothing to do with what i want to do so i’m thinking of taking another year off.”
you nod casually. understandingly. “i’m sure the college has plenty of spots for people who actually wants to be there, i guess.”
it’s not a new low. but it’s a kind of low you never usually stoop to.
no one seems to notice though, as mina laughs. obviously uncomfortable by your remark, “haha yeah.”
“taehyung got offered a job at the company he interned in last year,” with a smack on the aforementioned boy’s back, seokjin proudly announces.
and just like that, taehyung takes the spotlight to himself.
“oh my god, that’s wonderful news. kim taehyung, when were you going to tell us?” mrs. kim is the first to say something, eyes brimming with anticipation as she looks at him, waiting for him to tell everyone at the table more about it.
but the fact of the matter is, kim taehyung is torn between working a nine-to-five, subsequently making his parents proud or going professional as a full time gamer.
he breathes out an ‘uh...’ before his lips curl into a forced smile.
“surprise?”
x
some time after dinner, you end up drinking and playing card games. mrs kim already went to bed and it's a hour past midnight and all four of your find yourselves in your house to not disturb the kim couples.
the grinch is playing in the background because you, taehyung and mina won against namjoon and seokjin who wanted to watch frozen.
“frozen is so unchristmasy,” taehyung complained.
though, at one point, you did backtrack a little - only a teensy bit - and sided with seokjin who looked like he just won a lottery when you casually say, “i mean frozen’s got that wintry feeling and christmas is in-”
“oh girl, not you choosing a man over your best friend,” taehyung started tickling your sides as giggles erupted from your lips while trying to beg for forgiveness.
 “okay! okay! i’m grinch team all the way!”
“is that allowed? yah! you can’t say that after converting to team frozen!” seokjin’s rebuttal sounded every bit casual.
in retrospect, him joining taehyung’s ticklish assault would have felt out of character had you not fucked behind taehyung’s back nor kissed like you were star crossed lovers just hours ago.
“two against one! not fair! seokjin- ah- hahahaha!” 
one good thing came out of it though: you ended up sitting next to seokjin. it made you a little too conscious of him - of his cologne, of his thigh that brushes against yours with every movement you make and pretend like it’s nothing and of the ghost of a touch of his pinky finger that lingers on your knee when he seemingly places a hand on his own knee. 
still, it’s the closest you could ever be in public and it’s enough to tell mina to back off.
she doesn’t seem to notice but her compliments are equally distributed to everyone in the room. she seems to be the giggly drunk. giggling at every single thing everyone say.
somewhere deep in your heart, you feel the guilt gnawing because of your uncalled for hostility.
“i better get home,” she starts to stand at 3:07 am and you wave a dismissive hand, “no, it’s so late. stay over. please. you promised to make me your special hot chocolate in the morning.”
she objects at first like she turned down mrs kim’s invitation to spend christmas morning at the kim’s. and that’s how you know your views have been blinded with jealousy to see mina for who she is - a cute, lovable girl who’d be the heroine of every romance novel there is.
“oh thank you, thank you!” her arms flail around before they wrap around you in a drunken hug.
you laugh, hugging back.
x
the memories of how you huddled together like children and fell asleep in the living room, is hazy but when you wake up - the time on your screen displaying a 6 something am - you find a blanket draped over your body.
the light from the kitchen pours over the living room but not enough to wake the slumbering bodies there.
seokjin shoots you a smile when he sees you ambling over to the dining table with hair pointing in every direction, eyes squinting trying to block out the light while holding the blanket around your shoulders.
“you’re working? jinnie, it’s christmas,” you whine, head resting on his shoulder, feeling your heartbeat skip at the small contact.
he chuckles, bumping his cheek against your head before you hear the sound the keyboard again.
you stay like that, blanket curled around your body, seokjin typing away at his laptop.
that is, until his velvet voice cuts through the silence.
“so... i reckon that red handprint on tae’s cheek isn’t because he fell face first in snow.”
“it was because i slapped him in the face,” you wave your injured hand that’s now wrapped with a panda printed band aid instead of the duck ones seokjin used in the beginning.
he takes your hand, making sure not to apply too much pressure on the injury and kisses the top of your hand, “why would you do that?”
your cheeks warm at the gesture but you clear your throat, trying to play it cool, “because he told me we looked good together after all that shit he put us through.”
silence lulls in once again.
it feels like the longest you’ve ever gone with your heart palpitating inside your chest and unspoken words hovering over you but not quite reaching the who they’re supposed to reach.
“do we?” seokjin muses.
“do we... what?” you ask despite having an inkling of what he means.
“look good.” he turns to you, one arm on the table, thumb brushing against your pinky finger.
“i don’t know- we never even took selfies together.” you shrug.
“i think our selfies would look cute,” he pauses, naturally pouty lips curling into a smile, “so cute that the guys in your dm’s would be devastated to know that you’re dating me.”
“i can’t... do this,” the words slip out of your mouth like a waterfall like it’s bound to pour out of your heart through your mouth at some point, “because taehyung was... right. i don’t have a love language - even if i did, it’d be being jealous of every girl that talks to you. lashing out at those girls even though it’s completely understandable why they’d have heart eyes when they talk to you because you’re just that amazing... and... and... you like me? why?”
seokjin’s eyes look like someone personally plucked stars from the sky and trap them in those dark brown irises.
no- actually, he’s looking at you like you’re the star and he’s the moon that shines silver white rays just to have you notice him.
“who’s to say i don’t get jealous?” he cups your face, brows furrowing like you’re a math question without a solution and he’s going mad trying to figure you out, “i get so jealous at the thought of guys sliding into your dm’s, let alone make a pass on you but then i thought ‘if she’s not looking at me then i just have to try harder to make her notice me’ and i might or might not’ve reciprocated mina’s passes to make you jealous...”
you feel the corners of your lips tugging into a smile as you smack his chest lightly, “ass.”
that earns a chuckle from the man before he goes on, “but i’m not even sure what my love language is either, last i used it, i ended up getting dumped because apparently i’m too boring.”
“you’re not boring...” red flashes in your vision as you spit out the word, offended, “your dad jokes are bad but that’s what makes them so lovable. you’re so tall but you’re a literal walking teddy bear. you have biggest, kindest heart... and you’re so hung.”
something devious and prideful flashes across his eyes for the briefest moment before he asks ever so softly, “yeah?”
“yes.” you take his hands and grip them tightly, wishing the touch would convey your feelings.
“isn’t that kind of your love language?” his thumb feels callous against your skin as he rubs circles on the back of your hand. but that’s what makes this feels real - an affirmation that you’re not dreaming, “so... show me more... show yours and i’ll show you mine.”
you’d want to say you share a deep, passionate kiss to seal your promise for each other. but when you open your eyes - not knowing when you closed it - you’re staring at the white ceiling with neon starry stickers tacked up on it. 
and seokjin?
he’s nowhere to be found.
the morning air sends shivers down your spine as you pull your blanket over your head, trying to tune out taehyung’s voice.
but the universe seems set on kicking your sleepy ass of your bed when the door swings open with a bang! 
“get up! get up! it’s christmas!” the tall boy literally screams in your ears before hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potato and setting you down on the toilet in the bathroom with a “you better wash your face by the time i come back!”
you do as told.
eventually.
since the presents are all set under the christmas tree at the kim’s and you’re not looking to upload a christmas morning story in mismatched pj’s, you change into a cute totoro onesie.
mr and mrs kim got mina - she thanked you for letting her stay over last night even though you woke up to an empty house, she even has different clothes on than last night - new kits for the florist.
taehyung almost hugged you to death when he unwrapped his new ps5 that he’s been dying for.
namjoon got a new pair of gucci loafers from taehyung and booked an interrogation slot with their mother because-
“kim taehyung, where did you get all this money?”
you suspect he’s going to reveal his gaming channel to her where he got sponsors from to buy namjoon those loafers.
and seokjin gifted you with a heartshaped necklace as well as a new pc set for taehyung and a signed book of namjoon’s favorite writer that he’d been talking about for ages as well as an all expense paid trip for his parents to thailand.
“thanks for the necklace,” you lightly bump seokjin’s elbow as you come to stand next to him at the sink. he’s washing the mug he used for hot coffee.
he steals a glance at his family and mina in the living room. they’re laughing over taehyung having his head down, sitting on his calves like he’s asking for the forgiveness of a lifetime after confessing that he didn’t want to work a nine-to-five and wanted to go pro.
then his eyes find yours again. the glint in them makes your heart stop before he leans down, lips brushing yours ever so gently yet very seokjin-like.
you think your heart just burst as you freeze in your spot, staring up at the man with slightly parted lips and warm cheeks like a high school girl whose crush very obviously hinted he likes her back.
he raises a quizzical brow at your reaction before realization settles on his face and his lips curve into a smirk, “what? did you think last night was all a dream?”
x
taglist.  @aretha170 @scalubera @ambersaesthetics @heyjiminnie @hyuck-me @fanfuckingfic @fangurl-ontgeside @bri-mal @waves-and-woods @rjsmochii​ @kimmieloveswho​
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predictable-affairs · 3 years
Text
I ✯A flip of the coin, but both sides are the same...✯
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They would have never thought, never expected for something like this to happen. Never, especially from a bride...
Oh, but how beautiful the doomed bride was, falling into the hands of those sadistic boys... And she didn't even last a month, what an unlucky soul she was.
Yet nor her beauty, nor her grace shocked those boys to their core, it was what she left behind. Whilst cleaning, throwing and burning belongings of the deceased bride, the brothers found something rather unsual.
In the midst of a pile of clothes, that Reiji detested every time he saw it, going as far as to threatning the poor bride to clean it. "It's uterlly deplorable and unladylike!" he'd say in his usal stoic voice. "Alright, I'll clean it, thank you Reiji." agreed the deceased girl, always closing the door right in his face. Reiji did threaten to clean it himself, which always got the bride to insist not to, appereantly it didin't seem to bother the other boys. It seems that his threats weren't empty, since he did end up, after all, cleaning it himself.
Oh an what did he, what did they find in tha pile of clothes?
A small, chuby baby girl.
A child of the bride.
She was quite little, but still, perhaps could crawl? Nevertheless, she stared up, with dusty pink cheeks and innocence that only a child could hold,  right at the boys around her, who surrounded her like flies on a rotting fruit. No talking, no crying, no whining, no protesting. Silence and a simple baby stare.
"How did she manage this?", "How did we not notice?!" were the question spinning like pretty ballet dancers in the heads of the vampires, but the most important one - "What should we do?".
A simultaneous question that popped like a red ballon realeasing acusations, opinions and confusion in everyones heads.
What should they do?
"I say we keep it!"
Is the first harsh voice of the fiery Ayato, whose hair could compete with his attitudes ego.
"No way!" next protests Subaru.
"I don't know what you will do, but I will not let... it... grow up among, or become like any of us." continues reasioning the white haired boy.
"Oh, but it doesn't have to grow up a monster, dear brother." interjects another triplet - Laito.
" Yet sadly, I have to agree with you, we do not need to keep another mere human." shrugs the playful boy with an unusual statment, even shocking some of the brothers, but they'd never let their face betray them like that...  
He's usually the one who always wants more toys to play with, like a greedy child or an overworked bee.
"No! You are all wrong!" a fitty contradiction could be heard, almost from afar, or maybe right up close?
"We should keep it. I want to keep it!" the strict tone of voice comes from Kanato or perhaps his bear.
"Why? So you can torture it and turn it into another one of your dolls?" mocks Subaru, his pose getting a bit more uncomfortable.
The purple haired boy is in shock. Gripping his little brown bear, waiting to start a fight. How dare he say something like that?!
"If we are going to keep it, it will not be given to only one of us." interrupts a puzzeled, musing Reiji; like cold midnight water, extinguishing the growing new years flame, whose smoke was creating a violent atmosphere, so thick, that even honey would seem brethable enough to not drown in.
"So you agree, we should keep it?" harshly questions the flaming Ayato boy, his patience wearing thin; though insisde he was quite surprised. Does someone as stoic and stuck up as Reiji really agree to keeping a human and even a baby no less?
"No, of course not." offers no other words the mannered vampire, yet telling nothing new or surprising. Now with his gloved hand, which's white didin't differ too much from the pale of his hands, up to the chin, soothingly or maybe even camingly, carresing the face, helping to dose off deeper into his batteling thoughts of the situation he was put in just now.
"What about Shu?" continues questioning hopefully Ayato, for his prior hope just crumbled to calm ash.
Oh, the indifferent, lazy vampire Shu. The blond one of the group of brothers, the only one not in the circle, the only one peacefully resting on the pink covers of the many deceased brides bed, floating in a dream only accompanied by his music.
Or maybe it's something else, something more that he's listening to?  
Lazily opening one eye, hardly letting the piercing blue thats holds the whole of the ocean and it's destructive tides in it, peak through, quietly resting on the palms of his hands. Just as lazily as he opened his eye, just as slowly did he close it.
"I do not care." in an indefrent tone that rainly mirrors his mood, is the anwser that he bearly pushes out in a rusty, raspy voice, slowly qiueting down like an echo or a shadow in the back of a throat with every simple word. Indefrence - as predictable as Reijis opposition.
And so the question stands unanswered - what will they do?
Oh, the tension is growing thick, thicker than fog, thicker than otmeal.
Though the atmosphere of violence was quickly put out, a one of verbal fighting is about to break down.
Oh, and a fight did ensue.
So much yelling, from Subaru, opposing, not wanting to raise anything among them; from Kanato, wanting company for his bear - Teddy, and someone to dress up; from Ayato, emptily reasoning with Laito and Subaru on why they should keep them; and quiet giggles, yet as strong as others arguments; Reiji kept quiet, still deep in his thoughts.
The fight kept getting louder, like a shopping mall with big sales or a cafeteria with good food, yet it didn't seem to bother Shu, how unusual...
"We are not going to keep them!" like punches, harsh words are thrown around the room, a ball, bouncing off the soothing pink walls.
"So where do you suggest we leave them?!" more questions coming from blank faces with yeling mouths.
"Kill them!" another shout.
"We are not keeping them!" the final word, stern voice of Reiji, slowly quieting everyone down.
Was it confusion that suddenly struck the aura of the room or pure shock, nobody knew, but it did engrain a moment of peace, silence to the room. It's pink walls suddenly started to feel like matresses.
One, two, three... that's the count of a rich waltz, and that's how long silence ruled the room.
A waltz, a single waltz.
Yelling, again, crueller words and oppositions, it's good that the baby can't talk, or else their vocabulary would be that of a sailor.
So much commotion such a war between the brothers, it seemed that the rosy baby no longer exsisted.
And so through the yelling, through the war of unpieced words and calmless attitudes, for better or worse, for against or by Reijis last words - it was decided.
They will keep her. They will keep the rosy cheeked baby.
And so, her adventure began.
"What... is it?" comes a small, tiny question from a unknown asker in a quiet little voice.
Everyone is silent, no one seems to have considered that question.
,,It's... a girl..." comes an equally akward anwser also from an unknown source.
Well, now her adventure can definetly start.
And so she grew up amongst the six boys, each one slowly, but surely taking a liking to her.
Whether it was the messy baths that Reiji gave the baby girl (which infurated him to no end; "A bath is supposed to be clean! How does one manage to make it so messy!" - a frequent phrase circling his brain like a dark taxi), the calming naps, that Shu took with her (annoying him when she cried waking up, to the point where he gave her a nickname to soothe her that sticked to this day), or maybe the play sessions with Kanato (which always seemed to put a giggly smile on her face, except when he got angry, then they'd both have a screaming, crying fit), the reading lessons with Laito (effectivelly putting her to sleep, yet he woke her up everytime and even in the midst of tired crying - he'd continue teaching her to read), perhaps the physical fun with Ayato (not once letting her win any games, even the one where he tought her how to walk. But that doesn't mean that there weren't any, though who is he to ever admit that?) and possibly the gentle feeding of Subaru (who had more trouble with it than he'd like to admit), that made them slowly grow accustomed to her, they will never know.
It seemed that each brothers compliance helped the others in return, like a mirror or an open letter passed around in a circle, each one slowly grew a soft spot, and even, dare I say, some attachment to her.
Such unusual behavior for a vampire (was it something in her or just them growing weak? - no one pondered), maybe thats why they never said a word to their father?
There was one thing the boys forgot to do - give her a name.
When this point was made, another fight almost ensued. Who should get to name the baby and what will they name them - the two mischievous questions that almost started a fight as if it was a race. Yet, just before the whistle was blown for words and saliva to start flying, a name issued, suggested by Laito, caught the attention of many, especially, since Ayato got very insisting on it and with a hiding blush - Subaru quietly agreed on.
The decesion was made, and the vampires named her (y/n).
They watched her grow up, always keeping her company, playing games and teaching what they wanted to. But they weren't the only ones who watched her. She also observed them.
As she learned to walk and speak, as she started writing her name in better hand writing, getting older with each and every birthday, she saw all the brides come and go, the way they were treated and how they never lasted (yet she stayed obliviuos to that she too, was a child of a bride long lost).
Obviuosly not just one or two brides tried to make friends with the girl; sometimes in the hopes of escape or sometimes just in hopes of finding a friend, someone "normal", someone to vent to.
At first (y/n) felt sorry for the brides, consoled them even.
But as time went on, as she kept getting older the reoccurences started to anger her.
She began despising the brides, how dare they speak the most attrocious lies, talk such foul things about the boys?! They would never do things that they vent of! And insulting them that way, it made her want for them to leave faster.
She hated how with each bride she'd get less attention, than when she was alone with the boys. She hated the brides, their lies and pesuasion of escape. Where would she go? And more importantly - why would she go? They were kind to her, good, they took care of her why would she ever want to run. And after one particular incident, an escape in which she was dragged in and almost lost the mansion, her... family, forever! (Y/n) completely stopped interacting with the brides.
That was the childhood of a lost brides child, but her fate, history, was yet to be made.
                                                       ↢ What time is it? | II o’clock ↣
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literate-lamb · 3 years
Text
can I kiss you on the dancefloor?
Steve Rogers/Reader
One year into a relationship, yet still dancing in secrecy. Steve thinks he’s protecting you.
When a civilian and a hero fall in love, anything could go wrong. But not in the way Steve would have thought.
Or how the media play with the lives of superheroes.
►word count: 7.6k
► warnings(!): slight angst, alcohol
A/N: My gift to @blue-like-barnes for the Hoelentines Fic Exchange! I’m sorry it took some time, giftee. I didn’t expect this to turn into a monster (yikes). Thank you for hosting @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes ! Dividers from @firefly-graphics​ and GIF from Giphy
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On his day-offs, Steve Rogers was a man full of disguises. 
When they first started, it was the baseball cap and thick-rimmed glasses. He liked it, it was simple, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before someone would notice. How could one not when his face was the one plastered in old war propaganda, in the museums commemorating his achievements, and even flashes on the telly when you walk past the local electronics store. 
Hence, it wasn’t a surprise when the tabloids posted a photo of him in his disguise, waiting at a crosswalk on a cold night. 
‘Captain America spotted on a midnight stroll’ came the next morning. It was taken after he was done walking you home, thankful they didn’t catch a glimpse of you.
“So capsicle, where were you off to last night?” Tony greeted him at breakfast, offending paper in hand. He unrolled it, opening and making a show of reading, displaying the front page for all seated to see. “Nice reading glasses, wasn’t aware you needed them.”
Striding into the room, Natasha came and snatched the tabloid. She gave it a critical eye, judging, before turning towards him. 
“Hmm, recycling disguises, Rogers? I’m disappointed.” 
Steve just groaned in reply.
The second time it happened, he had gone to the Black Widow herself for advice. He had expected sound advice coming from a former KGB spy who spent her paycheck on hair, but all he got was a stick-on mustache. Something about ‘needing to blend in rather than pointing the obvious’.
“I don’t know what you’re up to, Steve, but at least it’s better than that nerd get-up,” she smirked.
You had liked it. Giggling every time he kissed you, the fibres tickling your lips. He had ‘a caterpillar’ on his upper lip as you called it. And Steve had learned to get used to the itch.
But it wasn’t long before his new look was the star in barbershops. 
‘Captain America’s new look takes the world by storm.’ They had caught him again in another paparazzi shot. Tony had teased him for days after.
He couldn’t shake it off easily, constantly reminded of it when he walked the streets. Seeing them on screens when he’s channel-surfing. Even when he’s training new recruits, his vision filled with a sea of unshaved cadets, their hairy upper lips a prominent fixture.
He knew he had to do something when Bucky and Sam came in one day sporting twin mustaches. 
He discarded the strip of fibre in the bin. Reminding to pay Natasha a visit.
The third time he decided, he seeked out the help of Scott Lang, who was a master in keeping out of sight during his burglary days. Scott had given him a black beanie and told him to grow out his facial hair. 
The beanie hid his golden locks and the beard made him look rugged. You loved it, your thighs quivered when it was him and you in the four walls of your room. Uncontrollable groans as he went down. ‘Beard burn’ you had called it. Whatever it was, he loved the sounds you let out.
Four months. That’s how long the disguise lasted. His longest disguise to date. 
Before he became a trend.
‘Captain America is the new style icon.’ The internet sleuths found out where he got it too. ‘The sale of Walmart beanies skyrocketed by 70% thanks to Captain America.’
Tony had bought everyone in the compound a black beanie for Christmas, including the receptionist.
“Our grandpa’s a trendsetter, who knew,” he announced. Steve had smacked the back of Tony’s head with the beanie before retiring the disguise.
Now, sitting in The Sleeping Cat, Steve had opted for aviators and a Nasa baseball cap. He still kept his beard after your pleads, and he liked the look, he admits. It was back to basics for him and this was one of the only places where he was safe from prying eyes. Afterall, it was in this very café where he had met you.
The Sleeping Cat was a quaint little thing, a hole in the wall in a quiet part of the city. Not many knew of its existence, the entrance obscure, a blink and you’ll miss it. Which made it all the more perfect for him. The baristas knew him and minded their own business, offering him a smile every time he visited. ‘You’re safe with us’ they seem to say. 
He could say the same about the patrons. Most that frequented were regulars like him, they seemed the same, looking for a place to get away from the overbearing world. They seemed to share an understanding, paying him no mind as if he was just another man they passed on the streets. And that’s how he preferred it. 
Just a boy from Brooklyn.
Ding!
The chime of the door pulled him out of his thoughts. Facing the door, he saw you, smiling as you came through.
This was the best part of his days. 
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You had met Steve Rogers at the most unexpected of times.
Terminated from your previous job at a small gallery, dumped by an ex-boyfriend after a 2 year relationship, you were at an utmost low. To escape your roommates —in case of pitying or prying, but if you were honest with yourself, it was to escape your own humiliation— you left the apartment on weekdays under the guise of going to work. In reality, you were at The Sleeping Cat applying for jobs on your laptop.
It was during one of the afternoon hours when you felt a tap on your shoulder.
Turning to your left, you were greeted by a pair of startling blues. They were bright but worn as if they’ve seen too many. Looking at the bigger picture, you took him in. Hair hidden under a cap, a sharp jaw and an equally sharp nose, and if you looked closely, you thought you could spot a few moles on his cheeks. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put a finger to it.
Eyes fleeting to his lips, you realized he was actually talking.
“Huh?” 
“I was wondering if this seat’s taken?” He smiled, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite. He was clearly amused.
“Yeah, sure, sure,” you nodded, making room for his things. 
The following days, it became a routine and an arrangement. You would be at the café as early as the owner would allow, laptop in hand. While he would come in the afternoons in a different jacket each day, a sketchbook in hand. You would be propped up, sending application after application, praying for luck. While he would quietly sit, churning sketch after sketch, in a relaxed demeanour. 
Sometimes you would peek over your screen and watch him draw for a few minutes, lost in his strokes. When you look up, you’ll find his eyes locked with yours, and you’ll immediately reimmerse yourself behind the screen, embarrassed.
It was a comfortable routine. You came to expect him everyday. And on the days that he didn’t make it, you felt a bit forlorn looking at the empty seat. You both didn’t talk much, yet you were getting comfortable in his presence.
Until one day, he broke the silence.
“So, what is it that you do?”
You stared, dumbfounded. Looking around there wasn’t anyone nearby. 
“Were you talking to me?” you asked.
“Yes,” he chuckled. “It’s just that you’re always on your computer…” he trailed off.
“I’m an assistant curator at an art gallery— or, er, used to be,” you explained. “Long story short, I lost my job and now I’m looking for a new one, that’s why I’m here.”
He seemed to ruminate before replying, “So you know a thing or two about art?”
You both started a new routine; one with a lot of communicating. He would ask you about your mundane weekends and interests and in turn, you would ask about his. Except, he was anything but mundane. 
On the days he was absent, you learned Steve was away on a lot of ‘business trips’. When he returned, he had never failed to present you with a souvenir. From matryoshkas to sarongs, it was always a surprise accompanied by a tale.
“The pattern on the sarong is called a batik, and it’s amazing how they’re drawn using wax like a liquid crayon. It’s an interesting art form.”
Outside of your little routine, he was an enigma. You barely knew about the Steve outside of The Sleeping Cat. Sometimes he threw the names ‘Bucky’ and ‘Sam’ a lot —out of exhaustion— without giving away anything, remaining tight-lipped. While his mysteriousness should’ve been a cause of concern, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards him, wanting to peel more of his layers, like the shell of a matryoshka. 
The routine went on for a few more weeks, with calls of interviews and business trips in between. Before you received a phone call.
“I got a job! At the Whitney!” you squealed, shaking his shoulders over the table, oblivious to the other patrons. Steve endured it, smiling. 
“Congratulations,” he said when you’ve calmed down. “I guess this is the last time I’ll be seeing you?”
You froze, high coming down, realization settling in. After a few weeks of secret meetings, of getting to know him, of having lunch together, of sharing laughs, you’ve come to see Steve as a good friend. And maybe, there was the birth of something more.
“Let’s exchange numbers,” you said, opening your phone. “This way, maybe we can hang out again. Have lunch sometimes?”
“I’d like that.” He smiled. 
And the rest was history.
Making your way towards The Sleeping Cat, you amused yourself with past memories. Memories from almost over a year ago. 
Steve had come to give a speech at the opening ceremony of an exhibition at the Whitney. Your first exhibition as a curator. An exhibition on art from the war times. When they had announced his title, a loud ‘oh’ was the only thing you could muster. 
The ‘ding’ of the bell resounded, announcing your arrival. Heading in, you saw a head perked up, beaming, baseball cap securing his golden locks and aviators hiding his mesmerizing blues.
This was the best part of your days.
But maybe, you were getting a little tired.
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If someone were to ask you months ago if you were happy and content with your relationship, you would’ve replied with a swift yes in a heartbeat. No hesitation, no reservations, no doubt. Now, sitting in the same cafe, the same one you frequent on dates, the same one you both met in, you weren’t sure of the answer anymore.
As Steve gets up to order for you both, your eyes wander to his sketchpad. It was filled with sketches of random objects; the flower on the table, the pastries on display, sometimes the patrons of the cafe, and occasionally, you. 
“You’re my favourite subject, so far.”
It was not for the lack of love or the lack of affection. Steve was the most loving; loyal in so many ways, gentle when asked, and protective to a fault. Maybe the protectiveness was the cause of it all.
Staring at Steve’s back, your mind shifted to a memory from the past week, when your roommate pulled you aside from a get-together at the ice rink.
“Hey,” she called your name, taking a hold of your elbow. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Sure, what’s up?” you followed her, leading you to the sides.
Her eyes conveyed her worry. It amplified with the chewing of her bottom lip, a nervous tick.
“Are you and Steve… okay?” she asked, her brows perked. “I’m not sure if you notice, but today, it’s full of couples.” 
You looked towards your group of friends. There was your roommate’s girlfriend tying her skates, your other roommate and her boyfriend talking to another couple —their friends— and they were all holding their significant other’s hand. Oh.
“I don’t want to throw you out of the loop, but there would probably be a lot of double skating involved today,” she said, widening her eyes, looking comical. “Do you want me to talk to Steve? Maybe I could convince him to come, y’know?” 
Out of your two roommates, she was the only one who knew of your paramour. Having walked in on you and Steve making out on the couch. She was sworn into secrecy, with the promise of autographs from all the Avengers. 
“Look, it’s okay,” you assured her. “I can handle skating alone, and you know why he can’t really come here with us,” you shrugged.
“Okay, but aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around? Don’t you want to shout to the whole world ‘I’m fucking Captain America!’” she flailed.
You shushed her, muffling her mouth with your gloved hand.
Part of the secret was how Steven Rogers was an engineered superhero. A superhero with many enemies, leading him to fear for his loved ones, and that included you.
You went into the relationship whole-heartedly knowing the challenges; discreet rendezvous, kisses in the dark, minimal contact in public. You were his secret and he was yours. It was for your own good, wasn’t it?
“What’s got your little head wrapped up?” Steve’s voice startled you, bringing you back to the café. On the table, two cups of coffee and a slice of cake was served.
“Hmm? Oh, just thinking about this party the museum’s throwing this weekend,” you took your cup, blowing, contemplating your next words.“Say, how about you and I, I don’t know, go as dates?”
Steve crunched his brows. “You know that’s a hard thing for me to do, especially with your colleagues around.”
“I know! But maybe… maybe, you can go in one of your disguises this time? Remember that one time we went to Central Park?”
Steve exhaled, he remembered that afternoon. It was the one-off that you both ventured on a date in the outdoors. 
Decked in his beanie, casually strolling through Central Park with you beside him. Although he was still wary, keeping his hands in his pockets, fighting the urge to hold your hand. 
No one had recognized him; not the ice-cream man, not the kids running around, not the mothers pushing strollers. No one. 
“I’ll see what I can do.”
You leaned forward, pecking him on the lips multiple times. “Thank you!”
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“You sure this looks convincing?”
“Trust me, punk. Grade A assassin here, thank you very much,” Bucky boasted while fixing the wig on his scalp, untangling the unruly strands.
Steve had sought Bucky for help, with the belief that assassins were good at hiding in plain sight (and maybe, he just didn’t want to go to Natasha twice). Bucky was also his most trusted confidant and he knew about you, Steve trusted him not to tell. But now looking at himself in the opposite mirror, he wasn’t so sure of that anymore. 
Long dangly tresses hung on the sides of his face parting in the middle, a trimmed beard leaving a bit of goatee, and to finish it off, Bucky dressed him in a checkered shirt consisting of random coloured squares. He looked like he just stepped out of the 60’s.
“Oh, wear these,” Bucky handed him a pair of large wire-framed glasses. “Done.”
Steve took a look in the mirror. A seedy pimp was the first thought that crossed his mind.
“Thanks Buck, I owe you one.”
“Sure Stevie, just bring me around next time on one of your dates, I’d like to meet her,” Bucky winked. “Or make it double.” He wagged his brows. “Like old times.”
Steve snorted.
“Okay, I got—“ Steve’s words halted when an alarm blared overhead. It demanded their attention.
“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, your presence is required in Prep Room six,” called the disembodied voice. “There’s been a breach of extraterrestrial energy in the airspace of Sweden.”
Steve exited and rushed through the hallways, Bucky following close behind. He made it through the living quarters, trudging to the training wing before entering one of the many prep rooms. 
“Nice costume, Cap. Halloween already?” Sam quipped. Almost everyone was present, they were equally amused.
Before anyone else could follow, Tony strided in immediately, grumbling. “Okay team, there’s been an E.T synthezoid putting holes in the ozone layer. I’ll fill you all in the quinjet. Suit up and meet me at the hangover in 10.”
Everybody gathered their equipment and hurried to leave, passing by him. Before Tony could, he took notice of Steve and did a double take. And then a third. 
“What’s with the pimp daddy get-up, Capsicle?” 
Steve huffed, ignoring the jab. “I have something that I need to attend. How important am I in this, Tony?”
“We need all hands on deck. We don’t really know what we’re up against, Fury’s still running recon,” Tony explained, squaring his shoulders. “Whatever it is you have, Cap. It can wait. Lives are at stake here.” With that, he left, not standing by for a response.
“Darn it,” Steve cursed, removing the glasses and the wig.
He left the prep room with his shield in hand. With one hand, he shot a text to you. He’ll make it up next time.
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Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Emergency mission
Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Can’t make it, sorry
You switched the screen off, sighing. Around you, the party was in full swing. Invitees mingling with refreshments in hand, discussing the pieces on display tonight, and bidding on the pieces they find exquisite. Hors d’oeuvres and champagne were being served, brought around by servers on silver platters. You’ve been munching on them non-stop, grabbing one every time a server comes your way, needing something to occupy you.
Surrounding you, you’d see the occasional couple walking around, enjoying their time. The palms of their hands locked in each other’s as they navigate together, rarely straying afar. 
You clenched your hand, reminded of how empty it felt. 
It was inevitable, you were warned of this, you were told to expect this. Dating a superhero meant that he was never solely yours. You were sharing your boyfriend with someone, except that someone was the world. 
“Hiiii!” a shrill voice broke your thought, calling you by name. A blonde woman, followed by a brunette emerged from the gathering of art-goers, headed towards you. “It’s been a long while!”
“Hey! Yeah, it’s been awhile,” you waved, recognizing the two. 
When they reached you, you were aware of the slight tension in the air, leaving the three of you standing awkwardly. After all, these two were your ex-colleagues and you didn’t exactly leave the previous gallery on good terms. Tonight was a night with masks, it seemed.
“So, how are you two doing?” you decided to get it over with.
“We’re fine, everyone’s fine! But how are you? We heard you worked here now, pretty impressive,” the brunette —Claire— winked at you. You laughed.
“Yeah, it’s so nice seeing you again, and at the Whitney? The pay must be good, you know what I’m saying?” Hilda chimed, knocking her elbows with yours. You didn’t appreciate it but you endured.
 “Say, what are you doing over here far away? Why not you join us over there,” Hilda pointed, towards a mounted canvas at the end of the hall. It was occupied by two men in a discussion among themselves. “Chat a bit to catch up, a bit of art philosophical debate in between. What do you say?”
You contemplated her offer, not wanting to seem pretentious, but thought about the false flattery and ego-stroking that would sure ensue in their company. The thought of it drained you.
“It’s okay,” you waved them off nervously. “I have to call my boyfriend sooner, gotta check up on him and let him know I’m... alright.” You held up your phone, playing on convincing.
“Oh? He isn’t here tonight?” Claire seemed to feign worry. 
“No, he got caught up with something. He’s a busy man,” you cooked up an excuse. No one could know. 
“Okay… In that case, we’ll leave you to it. Maybe we’ll bump into each other sooner.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you guys soon.”
They waved before backing away into the mass of patrons. You let out a breath you didn’t know you held in. 
While the interaction was unexpected, this was what you had to deal with when it came to the question of your relationship. The excuses, they became second nature to you. The lies. The deceit. Anything to protect Steve’s identity, and inadvertently, you.
Throughout the night, you mingled with any clients interested in a work of art, all the while stepping out of Hilda and Claire’s line of sight. You didn’t wish a repeat of the earlier evening.
When the crowd started dwindling, signalling the end of the night, you were relieved of your duties. You headed straight for the restrooms after, one getaway before leaving. You huddled yourself in a cubicle, locking it shut.
Seconds in, you heard the creak of the restroom door followed by the clicks of heels.
“Can you believe it? Someone like that got the chance of working here.” 
You recognized the nasally tone. It was Claire. 
“Yeah? Not like she deserves it. I mean look at her? Demure, slow. It’s like talking to a mouse. I bet she’s a prude too.” That was Hilda.
The gushing of the faucet muffled their voices, but their sharp words were clear as day, your ear catching every snark and hiss.
“And when she was talking about her boyfriend? He probably doesn’t even exist, it was just to get off our backs,” Hilda paused. “Last time I heard, her boyfriend dumped her. So, I guess she’s creating imaginary ones now.” 
They both cackled.
By now, you knew they were talking about you. Their words didn’t hurt as much, you knew the colour of their hearts beneath the masks. But was that how people viewed your hidden relationship? A facade? A farce?
Once the door clicked shut, and the tapping of their heels faded, you left the restroom, heart feeling heavier.
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(y/n) [6:45 PM]: stay safe stevie ! remember to hydrate
(y/n) [6:46 PM]: punch those meanies
(y/n) [6:46 PM]: (`⌒*)⍟-(`⌒´Q)
Steve chuckled when he turned on his phone, amused at your texts. You always sent him good luck messages every time he went off for missions. Although he didn’t seem to get the emoticons that you sent, even after being taught by Peter Parker. He just didn’t get them.
Steve dialed your number, sitting on the edge of the bed as he dried his washed hair. Beeps ringed before you picked up, your smooth lilt permeating the speakers. 
“Hello? Stevie?”
Steve smiled, missing the caress of your voice after a day filled with explosions and cries.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he greeted. “How’s my girl been?”
“Great, now that you called,” you teased. “But are ‘you’ fine?” you emphasized.
On the other end of the line, you mirrored his position, sitting on one corner of the bed. Picking the newspaper in your lap, you observed the front page: ‘Avengers saves the Arctic!’ 
“Same old, same old,” his voice carries. “Listen, about yesterday—“
“It’s okay,” you interrupted him, other hand gripping the newspaper. “You have to protect the Earth and that also means me. You don’t have to apologize, I knew what I signed up for.” 
Did you? Or was it now a hollow statement to convince yourself?
“I still want to make up for it, my girl deserves that much,” he responded.
You slowly unclenched the paper. It left Steve’s form crinkled.
“If you want to sooo bad,” you exaggerated. “There’s a Valentines charity ball for our arts program in three weeks time. You think you could make it this time?”
“You know no promises, but I plan to, even if I have to do everyone’s laundry for a week.” You heard rustling on the other line. “What’s the exact date? I’ll put it on my calendar.” 
“The 16th.” Scratchy scribbling filled your ear, the sound loud in the silence. 
“Done. Can’t wait to see you all dolled up, sweetheart.”
“Me too, baby,” you said. “At least put on a nice moustache this time.”
He laughed. Your heart felt lighter. To him, it was probably nothing, but to you, it was a form of reassurance. A reassurance that what you had was real.
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“Steve, you got a moment?”
The aforementioned man turned around, taking a glance over his shoulder. Sharon Carter slowed to a stop, a small smile on her face. As always, she carried an air of superiority, matching that of Steve’s wavelength. Yet today, it seemed dim.
“I think we need to talk, you have time for coffee?”
Glancing at his watch, he nodded. “Sure, Sharon. Lead the way.”
She took them outside of S.H.I.E.L.D and into the chilly air of DC, navigating through streets and crowds while huddling in their coats. They chatted, breaths puffing as they caught up, the familiar scenes passing by.
He hadn’t been in DC in awhile, it felt good to be back. 
“We’re here.”
Sharon headed in first, holding the door for him. He thanked her. They ordered and got seated. A smile was shared, strained as it seemed. 
“Better just rip the band-aid off,” Sharon sighed. “I miss us.” 
“Sharon—“
“Please, hear me out first,” she insisted, showing her palm. “We probably shouldn’t have done what we’ve done after Aunt Peggy’s funeral. I just lost someone I looked up to the most, and you lost the woman that you loved. We were both grieving. It wasn’t fair to the both of us.”
“While I do miss us, I know that it wasn’t meant to be,” she continued, shooting a sombre smile. “I understand that now. I guess, what I wanted was closure.”
Her hand quivered on the table between them. Steve clasped his over hers, offering to soothe.
“I don’t regret what happened in Germany. While yes, it should have not happened, it was what we thought we needed at that time. We both lost someone we held dear,” Steve explained, hoping his words reached her. “None of it was a mistake, Sharon. You’re still someone I trust and hold dear, remember that.”
Steve clutched her hand tighter, running his thumb over her knuckles in circular motions, attempting to calm and show understanding.
In his efforts, unknown to the two, the shutter of a camera went off across the street.
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Something felt off. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. At first, you thought it was your own anxious mind running. 
You woke up late on a work day, burned your eggs and toast, accidentally wore unmatching socks, and your roommate was acting weird. All jittery when you entered the hall, stammering her words, and performing this bizarre dance when you walked past the living room. You gave her no mind when you passed the threshold and slammed the door, phone gripped in hand.
Loverboy [6:00 AM]: Good morning, dear 
Loverboy [6:01 AM]: [image]
A photo of Steve, sweaty after a run showed on the screen. He was smiling, shirt stained and clinging to his chest. You had taught him how to take selfies.
You [7:20 AM]: morning, handsome
You [7:20 AM]: 😍😍😍 
The morning texts were the best part of your morning commute. It made the arduous and packed journey worthwhile. Even when you almost tripped at the doors, it couldn’t take away your joy.
You made it just in time and clocked in, meeting clients and discussions with artists throughout the day. It was uneventful, although the bad luck seemed to have followed when you spilled your coffee on the concrete.
It was when you left the museum that your day took a turn for the worst.
On the ride home, the man opposite you was reading a newspaper. Nothing unusual, but at a glance, you thought you saw a familiar face printed on the corner. Before you could take a closer look, the man folded it in half and got off.
A few minutes later, you arrived at your stop, exiting the station with the fast-paced crowd. That’s when you were bombarded.
Lining the streets, your vision was filled with the scattering of a crowd of papers. Every face you saw was plastered in them.
‘The Good Captain In Love?’
‘A Superhero & A Civilian Romance?’ 
‘Captain America’s Girl? Mysterious Woman Sighted’
The sight of them left you in a panic, your anxiety spiking through the roof. Your world started spinning, everything —buildings, trees, faces— blending altogether. Everywhere your eyes deflected, a headline invaded your sight, imprinting itself on your retinas. Had they found out?
Composing yourself, you headed towards the nearest news stall, mind boggled with too many questions and not enough answers. How? Why? When?
Only, it wasn’t your face they were publishing.
‘“Oh Captain, My Captain” America in love? Spotted last week in DC was Captain Steven Rogers with a mysterious lady. They seemed to be cozy with each other, an eyewitness told Us Weekly. Story on Page 11.’
The photograph showcased Steve with a blonde woman, sitting in a café with their hands clasped on the table. Your heart shattered at the sight, remembering how empty yours have felt lately. 
Was he purposely out with this woman in public? What did that mean for you? Why were you shadowed?
“Are you and Steve… okay?”
“She’s creating imaginary ones now.”
“Aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around?”
“You know that’s a hard thing for me to do.”
“Hey lady, you gonna pay for that?”
You were shaken out of your stupor. Looking down, you were clutching the magazine too hard, ripping the image of Steve and the woman in half, right in the middle where their hands met.
You apologized to the man and paid for the magazine. Immediately discarding it in the next trash bin you saw.
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“So… you and Sharon?” Sam had asked him after training.
“What?” 
“You, and, Sharon,” Sam emphasized, pronouncing each syllable. “Are together. Man, when were you gonna tell me? I thought it was over.”
Steve froze before replying, “Because it is. A long time ago.”
“Well, this seems to say otherwise.” 
Sam showed him his phone, the screen displaying an article; ‘Captain America’s Girl Revealed. A Family Affair That Transcends Time.’ On top of the article was a photo of him and Sharon at the cafe in DC, his hand atop of hers on the table. A zoomed in version of their hands were provided, fueling the tabloid’s narrative.
Steve paled at the sight. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was his fears manifested; his anonymity taken, his privacy invaded, but his worst fear was putting his loved ones in danger. And if it was due to their association with him, it would leave him racked with guilt. 
While the tabloids were wrong, he knew that Sharon could defend for herself. You on the other hand… 
His heart rate rose, a new wave of anxiety spiked. Steve wondered if you’ve seen this. No, you must’ve seen this. 
Fishing for his phone, with clammy hands, Steve quickly dialed your number, anxiously waiting for the beeping to end. 
‘The number you’ve dialed is not—‘
“Damn it!”
His outburst surprised Sam, shocking him. Sam gave him a look, inquisitive. 
“Sorry Sam, I have to run.” 
He left, heart in his throat.
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When Steve arrived at your apartment, he was almost out of breath. He was still anxious, the ride here not doing much to his addled mind. But he was determined.
Rapidly knocking on your front door, Steve composed himself. When it opened, he was met with the sight of your roommate -- the one that he has never met before.
“Ca-Captain America?” she yelped, shocked to see him on the doorstep.
“Is your roommate in?” he steeled.
“Which one—” 
“Steve,” a voice interrupted.
The door pulled further, widening the entrance. Steve was met with your familiar roommate. She was tense, arms locked across her chest, eyes full of fury. Steve detected something else in them; worry.
“You fucked up,” she said. He winced.
“I know,” he admitted. “And I’m here to make things right. Can I please see her?”
She sighed, stepping in, nodding towards your room. 
Steve hastily walked in, stopping in front of your door. He knocked thrice, signalling you, before turning the knob. It was unlocked. The room was dark when he entered, every source of light switched off, except for your curtains. 
Sitting on the edge of the bed was you, figure illuminated by the street lights against pitch black darkness. When he stepped in closer, you looked up, eyes meeting his. 
Steve turned on the lights and closed the door. He took a good look at you; hair frazzled, eyes bloodshot and dry, nose red. You were the image of heartbreak.
“Are you ashamed of me?” you asked, eyes locked with his. 
“What? No, I—“
“Is it because I’m not strong?” you cut him off. “I know she’s Peggy’s niece… a-and I know how much you loved her. She was your first love.”
“She and I, it’s all in the past. She moved on and lived her life, and I… did too.”
“But did you really, Steve? Move on?” you whispered, getting up. You stood in front of him. Steve could see how puffed your eyes were from crying. “Or was I just… a rebound?”
“No. No, you were never a rebound,” he took hold of your forearms. “I care for you, too much.”
“Then why?!” you shrieked, shocking Steve. “Why the secrets? Why the hiding? Steve, you’ve never even introduced me to your friends. Shouldn’t they know?”
“I wanted to protect you!”
“Protect me from what?!” you roared, eyes full of fury. “The Avengers? If they knew about me, they would protect me. Don’t you think so?”
Steve had no words to that, his mind a jumbled mess.
“I’m… beginning to think that you’re embarrassed with me,” you sighed. “We’ve never been on a date publicly, as each other. We’ve never held hands in public. I want you to meet my friends. I want to introduce you to them, and maybe soon, I want you to meet my family.”
“B-but, I’m tired, Steve. Tired of all the hiding. Of all the sneaking around. I want to tell the world that I’m in love with Steve Rogers, not Captain America,” you sighed, shedding a few tears.
You waited for his reply, only to be disappointed. 
“You know I can’t do that.”
You saw red. All you saw was red. 
You started pushing him, swatting him in the chest. Steve didn’t fight back, letting you unleash your anger, your disappointment. He took your hits, letting you release your pent up emotions. He began backing away when you started advancing, back against the door.
“Get out! Get out!” you screeched, pushing him.
When he unlocked the door and crossed, you immediately shut the door in his face. Steve heard sobbing from inside, his heart shattering at the sounds. 
“This way, Captain,” your roommate approached him, showing him to the door.
Steve relented, shame flooding him. He fucked up.
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You stopped visiting The Sleeping Cat, wanting to avoid him at all costs. You blocked his number. You immersed yourself in your work, prepping for the upcoming charity gala. 
Sometimes you find yourself thinking about him when sleep proved to be difficult. It’s when you’re laying at night that you missed him the most.
But it was for the best, you reasoned. For you and him.
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The Avengers PR had pushed for a fix-it, publishing a story that spoke a truth. ‘Just Friends: Romantic Allegations Proved False’. Steve had hoped you’d seen it. 
He called you every day but found himself blocked from everything. He still tried, hoping you’d come around one day. He came by The Sleeping Cat every other day, sitting in the same spot, hoping to catch you. 
But you never came.
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You clasped the necklace in place, admiring how it sat on your clavicle through the mirror. You took a step back and took yourself in, smiling at what you saw. It didn’t reach your eyes.
Today was the day of the Valentines gala and you weren’t feeling particularly giddy about it. 
Opening your phone, you stared at the one contact that stood out, finger hovering over his name. That name used to give you so many feelings, but today it was a reminder that you were going alone, again.
Sighing, you threw it in your purse and left. Another lonely night, and on an even celebrating love.
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Days turned into weeks, and soon, before he knew it, the day of your Valentines gala arrived. 
Steve stared at the calendar. The heart-shaped doodle he drew called out to him, reminding him of fond memories. Fond memories that seemed like a distant dream. But then, he went back to last week, and it all came crashing.
He had hurt you. While thinking he was protecting you, he hadn’t realized he was inadvertently pushing you away. He had no one to blame but himself. 
He loved you. No, still loves you. You grounded him, gave him the normalcy that he craved. Reminded him of a distant time before he was Captain America. 
You made him feel like the boy from Brooklyn again.
While he was ruminating in his feelings, Steve was caught off-guard when the door burst open with Tony Stark coming through. From his peripheral, he could see Bucky and Sam peeking through the frame.
“Heard from the Manchurian Candidate that someone has a case of the achy breaky heart,” Tony said, smug.
“Leave me alone, Tony. I’m not in the mood,” he grumbled, setting down the calendar. 
“And leave you wallowing like shit while your girl is out there probably equally miserable? I know a thing or two about women, Rogers, and it’s that they don’t like to be kept waiting.”
Tony snapped his fingers and from behind, Sam came in with a tuxedo in hand.
“Thought you might need this,” Sam said. 
Bucky came out behind him, with a brush and can of hairspray. “And I still know how to do hair.”
“And I have friends in places,” Tony quipped. “I can get you in.”
Steve was surprised. His friends had surprised him. You would’ve loved them. He was left speechless.
“What are you waiting for, Cap? Suit up.” Tony winked.
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Swirling the glass of rosé, your gaze fell towards the dance floor. An upbeat song was being played as people flocked near the middle, letting their bodies take charge for the night. You saw your former co-workers among the throng, hands thrown around their significant others, having the time of their lives.
The gala was in full swing, if the crowd and chatter was any indication. Red and roses were the main theme, with a red carpet stretching from the grand staircase towards the main hall and roses lining every corner and wall. Taking it all in, you were proud to see your ideas visualized and work came to fruition.
You sipped your rosé, enjoying every bit of the gala as you could. From the sidelines, you spoke with a few potential clients and art collectors. Their presence made you feel your importance, and if you dared say it, a little less lonely.
It was during one of your little chats that you didn’t realize when the hall suddenly fell quiet. You turned around when you felt a tap on your shoulder.
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“Hi folks, mind if I crash your party?”
Steve smiled at Tony’s antics. They both had arrived at the gallery dressed in their best, and with Tony’s connections, they were granted access. 
Stepping down the grand staircase, Steve felt all eyes on him. He paid them no mind, the thought of you the only occupant of his racing mind. Gazing over the crowd, Steve spotted you to the side, occupied in a chatter. 
Taking deliberate steps, Steve soon found himself behind you. He admired your gown and hair, it entranced him. You still hadn’t registered his presence, even when your partner had ceased chatting and was now staring at him.
With a tap on your shoulder, he was taken away as immediately as you spun around. Steve took in your whole image; your dolled-up face, your intricate dress, your styled hair. It left him floored.
You always did manage to take his breath away. Was this what he had been missing out all this time?
Taking your unoccupied hand, Steve pressed a small kiss before meeting your eyes. 
“May I have this dance?”
Giving away your drink, you took his hand as he pulled your towards the centre, taking space among the crowd. A slow number started, and before you realized, you were swept in a slow dance. It didn’t take long before you felt the sensation of his two left feet.
“Sorry, a hundred years and you’d think I’d know how to dance,” he said.
A small smile lightened your face. Steve savoured it all he could. Gulping, he took the first step.
“I’m... sorry for what I’ve done. I realize now that you were right,” he started. “I thought I was protecting you, but now I see that all it did was push you away. You have all the rights to be mad at me. I was being an idiot, a selfish one. I didn’t think about how you felt about it.”
You winced. Steve had stepped on your toes again. He murmured an apology, resorting to swaying instead.
“Can we start again? No more hiding. No more disguises,” he breathed, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “ We can meet your friends, you can meet mine. Bucky’s been pestering me to bring you to the compound, he wants to meet you.”
You laughed. How Steve had missed the tune.
“How can I make it up to you? How do you want to take the first step? A picnic at Central Park? Dinner at the compound? A trip to the beach?”
You seemed to contemplate, a thoughtful look on your face. You both failed to realize all the eyes on you two.
“How about now?”
“Right here? Right now?” he asked.
“Yes, right here, right now,” you said, determined.
Without hesitation —no more— Steve dived in, planting a kiss on your wine-coloured lips for the whole world to see. Your first kiss in public, yet it felt as if it was only the two of you there, lost in the moment. 
You both didn’t notice the gasping crowd nor the clicks of cameras from photographers nor the booming laughter of Tony Stark. You both only felt the other in your orbit, and that was all that mattered.
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“Can you put that down? You’ve been staring at it for the past hour.”
You pouted, setting the frame on the side table, where it has been designated since its publication. 
“I can’t help it, I think it’s a good shot. Don’t you think so, Alpine?” you petted the snowy white cat lazing on the arm of the sofa. Its’ purrs intensified.
“Dinner’s ready!” Bucky shouted.
You and Steve left the room, joining the others in the dining room for dinner. On the side table, the framed article sat neatly, showcasing the tale of the famed occurrence that took place at a charity gala.
‘America’s Girl: The Modern Woman of The Captain’s Dreams.’
Fin.
251 notes · View notes
fallen-gravity · 3 years
Text
the good kind of scared
Luz takes Amity out on their first date as an official couple.
Amity can’t stop thinking about certain circumstances of a certain night.
Notes: 
WARNING: This fic contains major spoilers for Season 2, Episode 8 (Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door) of the Owl House. Read at your own risk.
Here’s my first shot at an owl house fic! I love Luz and Amity so much, they remind me so much of myself and my journey as a young wlw, and I wish them nothing but the best on their relationship journey.
AO3 
Luz regrets telling Eda she wanted to ask Amity out.
It’s not that she’s being mean or judgmental about the whole ordeal, and it’s not even that she’s being overprotective and going full Owlbeast on Amity for getting too close, or threatening to break something of hers if she breaks Luz’s heart.
Oh no. Luz would absolutely prefer Eda threatening to drop Amity off in the middle of the wilderness for hurting her to what she’s actually doing.
Every time Luz even mentions Amity, even if she’s just talking about her day at school, Eda’s on her back with a nudge of her shoulders, a hip check, and a wink. It’s always “How’s your girlfriend doing, Luz?” this and “When are you bringing your girlfriend home, Luz?” that. 
If Luz’s face could burn any hotter she’s sure it would catch on fire.
(She shudders at the thought of how much more embarrassing her mother back home is going to be about it).
Honestly, it’s a miracle she was even able to plan their first date without Eda butting in at all.
“Bring her home by midnight!” Eda singsongs, tossing her staff to Amity as the two of them are heading out the door. “Now go have fun, you crazy kids!” 
Luz scrubs her hands down her face and groans into them. Beside her, Amity giggles nervously. 
“I’ll try,” she murmurs under her breath, and it only makes Luz’s blush even worse.
“I’m so sorry about her” Luz groans once they’re outside and Eda is out of earshot. “I begged her not to be embarrassing about this whole thing, but she just laughed at me and told me that was her job”
Amity laughs, bashfully covering her mouth with a hand. She’s so cute. “It’s fine. You wouldn’t believe how Edric and Emira acted when I told them where I was going. I thought I was going to be stuck at home with all of their squealing for hours before they finally let me go”
Luz can’t help but laugh. “Are you ready to go? I kind of want to get out of here before Hooty catches wind at what’s going on” she gestures with her thumb towards the door behind them. Hooty is, thankfully, too asleep to have heard any of that conversation. 
For the briefest of seconds, Amity’s eyes go wide. “Right,” she says, and offers Eda’s staff back to Luz. Her eyes dart to the ground as her entire face begins to flush pink. “Well, where did you want to take me? You said no asking until I got here”
That’s right. Luz can feel her own blush burning into her cheeks. She’d completely forgotten it was supposed to be a surprise, and that this date was the date to determine all of their future dates going forward.
Luz clears her throat to clear her thoughts, and sits down on the staff to wake up Owlbert. 
“Hop on!” she tells Amity beside her, her voice cracking into oblivion. “You’ll know when we get there”
Amity giggles, but she complies, sitting behind Luz and wrapping her arms around her waist to keep herself steady.
...This is the end of her, Luz thinks, her face turning redder than apple blood. She’s dead. She’s dying. She’s no more.
But before Amity has the time to ask her what’s wrong or pull away, Luz takes off into the sky, perhaps a bit faster than she intended to. It takes a moment for their flight to steady, since she’d accidentally startled Owlbert from taking off too quickly, but once he’s calmed down it’s smooth sailing to their destination.
And even now that everything is all smooth and balanced, Amity still has her arms around Luz’s waist, which means that it has nothing to do with keeping herself steady at all, that Amity just genuinely wanted to sit that close to her and hold her throughout the entire duration of their flight, and hooo, boy, Luz isn’t quite sure her fragile little hopeless romantic heart can handle that information.
Focus, she tells herself. You’ve only got one shot at a first date, and everyone knows the first date is the most important.
She takes a deep breath in and slowly exhales to dispel her spiking nerves. 
“Look, Amity…” She starts, and though Amity does not move her arms from around her waist, Luz can feel Amity’s hair brush against her cheek as she sits up to meet her eyes. “I know that you’ve lived here your entire life, and I’ve only been here for a few months, and there’s probably not much here that I could show you that you haven’t already seen hundreds of times. And I know I keep talking about going home, and everything I like about living there, but...I think it’s only fair that I show you the reason I fell in love with this place, too”  she coughs, her blush returning to her cheeks again. “B-besides you, I mean” 
Amity’s entire face goes pink, and she buries it into Luz’s shoulder. “Luz…” she whimpers, so unlike the cool and collected Amity that walks the halls of Hexside, and somehow it has Luz’s heart flipping in her chest even more.
“I know it’s not much, but….” Luz gestures outward with an arm, and Amity finally finds the strength to pull away from her shoulder. Upon following Luz’s gestured arm with her gaze, a small gasp escapes her.
It’s the same view of the Boiling Isles that Eda had shown her on her first day on the Isles. It’s the entire view of the Titan’s skeleton, yes, and the lit homes of all the residents of Bonesborough, but most importantly it’s the sky. When Luz had been up here with Eda the sun was setting and Luz was sure that it was the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen, but tonight’s sky takes the cake (...again, besides Amity). Tonight the sky is clear as can be, twinkling with thousands of shining stars. There’s a distant galaxy streaking across the sky; not quite the Milky Way, but equally as beautiful, and, if Luz looks long enough, a few scattered shooting stars.
“Woah,” Amity gasps behind her, and tightens her grip around Luz’s waist ever so slightly. “It’s all so…” she pauses, her gaze shifting from the night sky to Luz, “...beautiful”
Luz squeaks. “You’re beautiful” she murmurs, burying her face into her hands once again.
Amity laughs at that, but if Luz unburies her face from her hands she’d see the blush permanently branded into her girlfriend’s face at the compliment.
For a few moments after, the two of them fall into a comfortable silence. Amity’s arms remain where they are around Luz’s waist, and Luz does her best to lean backwards into her touch. They don’t move, and don’t focus on anything but the night sky and the quiet, gentle flapping of Owlbert’s tiny wings if they listen hard enough. 
It’s...peaceful. A dramatic shift in pace compared to the past week for sure, but it's a change that Luz is welcoming with open arms.
She’s about to close her eyes and let herself soak everything in when Amity speaks up again, nearly startling her out of her skin.
“Hey, actually…now that we’re alone, can I…ask you a question?”
Luz swallows. It must be crucial relationship business if whatever this is had to wait until they were on their date, as far away from other prying ears as they could possibly get. Trying her hardest not to let her nerves show, Luz carefully shifts on the staff so she’s sitting beside Amity rather than in front of her.
“Y-yeah! What’s up?”
Amity’s face goes pink and she starts nervously playing with her hair, like it’s killing her just to even think about asking whatever this crucial question is. Just as quickly as the blush appeared, though, she’s clearing her throat and patting her hair back into place, steeling herself for whatever Luz’s answer could be.
“Was...was the tunnel of love really Hooty’s idea, or were you just saying that because you were…” her blush appears, twice as red as it had been a moment ago. “...anxious about telling me how you felt?”
Luz is, once again, feeling like her face is on fire. “Ugh, I’m so sorry about all of that” she scrubs a hand down her face. “Hooty had this whole thing going on about insisting he needed to help people, and he must’ve gotten it in his head that he needed to help me with-”
She’s cut off by the sensation of Amity gently taking her free hand in her own, rubbing gentle circles into the back of her hand with her thumb. “Sorry?” she giggles. “Why are you sorry?” 
Luz finally finds the strength to meet Amity’s eyes despite the blush burned into her cheeks. 
Her eyes are shining, which is just about the prettiest, most adorable thing Luz has ever seen, hands down.
“I mean, Hooty kidnapping me was…” she trails off, shuddering, “but...everything else? It was so cute, Luz. It was so much like you to make this grand old gesture for me. I was terrified just kissing you on the cheek the other night, and there you were, being so extravagantly...you” 
...She liked all of that? She didn’t think it was dumb, or embarrassing, or completely and utterly laughable??? She thought it was sweet?
It’s decided, Luz Noceda is officially the luckiest girl in the world. Nobody else in the entire Boiling Isles has better luck than her.
Luz sighs, and returns Amity’s gesture by taking her other hand in her own. “I guess...it’s because everyone back home thinks I’m too schmaltzy. Every time I talk about this new romance book I’d read, or this new fic I finished writing, or the proposal I was working on for this guy I wanted to ask to homecoming, they’d just...laugh at me, like there goes Luz again, doing too much for things that don’t matter that much. I’m so used to being shot down for being too much that I felt...scared” 
Amity snorts. “We waltzed together to defeat Grom, Luz. I don’t think you can get much schmaltzier than that. Besides…” she inches ever closer, planting a kiss on Luz’s cheek. “There’s no such thing as too much of you, Luz. If nobody back home saw that, then they didn’t deserve you”
A smile tugs at Luz’s lips. “More like I don’t deserve you, you big sap” she gives Amity’s cheek a kiss in return, and she beams at the sensation, adorably scrunching up her nose. The beam stays plastered on her face when Luz pulls away, and Amity gently touches the spot on her cheek where Luz had just kissed her. 
“Well, what about right now?” Amity asks, the shine returning to her eyes. “You’re not still feeling scared, are you?” 
The phrasing of her second question suddenly makes Luz very aware of how close they’re sitting to each other. Her heart starts pounding in her chest at the very real possibility that they are close enough to kiss, actually kiss, on the lips, if they so wanted to. 
“Yeah,” she answers honestly, but leans her head in closer to Amity to test the waters. Amity realizes what she’s doing pretty quickly, but shows no hesitation in meeting her halfway.
Luz can’t help the beam spreading across her own face as they pull away from their first kiss. “...but I think it’s the good kind of scared.”
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Hey love, was wondering if we could get some more mean girl x soft boy with Peter with promts 10 and 37??
Yes!! My favorite, of course, I made reader a Stark too cause spoiled rich mean girl with soft little Peter kills me. Hope you like it!
Requests are still open guys, you can use the prompts or just request whatever you want to, I write for Peter and Tom, love you guys xx
Full of Surprises
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark! Reader
Summary: Peter wants you to take him to a party, which ends up being nothing like he expected
Prompts
Masterlist
Prompt #10 - “I don’t think you’re down for the parties I go to pretty boy.”
Prompt #37 - “You wanna sneak out?”
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
It would be hard to summarize (y/n) Stark in any sort of brief, meaningful fashion, she was too complicated for just a few sentences. If Peter had to call her just a few things he’d say she was complex and charismatic. She could be a little bratty, she liked getting her way, but most people still liked her, they still wanted to be around her. She was glamorous, with her designer clothes and nice cars and the paparazzi, she held the whole Stark legacy in a custom made, diamond encrusted pink birkin. Peter didn’t get the appeal of the money or the popular girl front she had at school, he thought the real her was a lot more interesting.
In getting to know her he had found she was actually a lot softer than most people thought, she just took a bit to warm up to people. He couldn’t blame her really, he’d seen firsthand the way kids at school tried to get close to her just for the exclusive invite or a Twitter follow, so he understood her hesitation. What he didn’t understand was why she wanted to be popular and famous, why she liked it all so much. It was puzzling to him, but he found both sides of her equally endearing. Even dorky little Peter couldn’t resist the pull of her glamorous life, he couldn’t deny that part of him wanted to be closer to that side of her too. He wanted to be the boy on her arm at all the parties she went to, but he had to get out of his comfort zone to do that…
“Yo Parker, you riding with me?” (y/n) turned around to face him as their final class drew to a close.
He nodded, “Yeah, if that’s cool with you.”
“I was hoping you would, I need your help,” she winked, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she stood.
He followed after her, his brows knit in confusion, “What do you need my help with?”
“There’s a party this Friday, dad said I can’t go,” she rolled her eyes, “So annoying, anyways, I was going to ask you to cover for me. I’ll tell him I’m at your place studying or something and you just tell him I’m with you if he asks. I know you're a perfect little angel, but I’ll owe you so big and I promise you won’t get in trouble with him. Plus I’ll buy you whatever you want.”
“You don’t need to buy me anything, you know that,” he blushed, biting down on the inside of his cheek as he contemplated his next move, “There is, uh, something you could do for me though…”
“Oh really?”
He nodded, “I want to go with you.”
She paused right in front of the limo and raised a brow at him, “Seriously?”
He nodded, “Yeah.”
She laughed as she climbed into the car, apparently finding the suggestion to be the funniest thing she’d heard all week, “Peter it’s a party with people and dancing and alcohol, I don’t think it’s your scene.”
“Then I’ll sneak out.”
His cheeks flushed and he frowned, “I’ve been to parties, I want to go, you always have fun don’t you?”
“You’ve been to high school parties,” she rolled her eyes, “There is no way May would let you go to this kind of party.”
“You wanna sneak out?”
“I sneak out all the time,” he reminded, “I’m probably better at it than you.”
“Point taken,” she smiled brightly at him, “Okay, why do you want to go out to parties all of a sudden?”
He shrugged, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, “I might as well give it a try, maybe I’ll like it.”
She hummed, contemplating what to do for a moment, “Okay, I’ll take you, but no dorky t-shirts.”
“What’s wrong with my shirts?” he glanced down at himself with a frown.
“Well I think they’re cute, but they aren’t really party material. In fact I don’t know if anything you have is…”
He blushed at the compliment, “I can just wear a plain shirt then.”
“I’ll pick something out for you,” she smiled, “My arm candy has to match me.”
“Okay, but I’m not wearing the Spiderman suit.”
“You’ll wear what I tell you too babe,” she patted his cheek, smiling while his blush spread up to his ears, “Pick you up at 8?”
“Y-Yeah, sounds good.”
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆   。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
As promised, (y/n) arrived at Peter’s house at 8 sharp, holding a garment bag and dressed in a knee length tan trench coat.
“That’s what you're wearing?” Peter cocked his head in confusion, looking her up and down before quickly adding, “N-Not that you look bad or anything! I-It's just not what I normally see you wear to parties and stuff…”
His mouth went dry and he could only nod as he took it all in, “Y-Yeah, you look great.”
“I’ve got an outfit on under it, I just didn’t know if May would be home,” she pushed the garment bag into his hands with a smile.
“She’s working late tonight, I told her we’re going to the movies,” he shut the door behind her, his whole face blooming red as she tossed the trench coat off.
“Great, I look hot don’t I?” she giggled, spinning so he could admire her full outfit, a baby blue cropped cami and a matching skirt that fell just above her knee. The skirt had a slit leading up her right thigh and the whole thing was covered in a slightly darker blue Louis Vuitton monogram.
“I know,” she smiled proudly before gesturing to the bag in his hands, “Well come on, promise you’ll look hot too.”
He swallowed and opened up the bag to reveal a blazer with the same color and print as her outfit, “You don’t expect me to wear just this right?”
She burst into a fit of laughter and shook her head, “No, I was thinking just some jeans and a white shirt underneath, but hey, if you’re really feeling yourself I won’t stop you.”
“No, no, tshirt and jeans sounds great,” he pulled the blazer from the bag, “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t keep me waiting,” she sang as he disappeared into his bedroom.
Peter was only gone for a second, returning almost immediately dressed per her instruction, “Happy?”
She nodded, “You look great, blue’s your color,” she stood, grabbing the edge of his jacket, “And red, and yellow.”
“You just listed all the primary colors,” he laughed.
“And I was right,” she moved up to his collar, flattening it out for him, “You for sure look best in yellow, but I know blue is your favorite, so I figured we’d wear blue.”
“Thanks,” he didn’t know how else to respond, “So what are we going to do there?”
“Oh come on Peter, you know what happens at a party,” she laughed, her hands moving up to his hair, tussling it slightly, “Didn’t you tell me you went to parties?”
He blushed, “Well one party, and it didn’t go great… I mean it can’t be anything that crazy right? Just like spin the bottle or beer pong or something?”
“Oh sweety,” she clicked her tongue before stepping away from him and slipping back into her coat, “If that’s when you’re hoping for then I don’t think you’re down for the parties I go to, pretty boy.”
He went wide eyed, “W-What do you mean?”
“You’ll see,” she smirked, “Ready to go?”
He nodded, his stomach beginning to fill with nerves, “I guess, I’m a little worried now though.”
“You should be,” she winked, “Not even Spiderman can save you from the night we’re gonna have.”
Her words had put Peter a bit on edge, and had him wracking his brain for every party he’d ever seen on tv. Once they got in the car he tried to drill her on the matter, but she only continued to tease him, never giving him a straight answer on anything, going as far as to tell him they were going to be summoning a demon at midnight. Something he had rolled his eyes at until they pulled around to the back of what Peter had to assume was some kind of club.
“(y/n) are you sure this is the right place?”
She nodded, “Yeah, it just looks sketchy from the back,” she flicked the car off and smiled at him, “Come on, you’re gonna love it here.”
He knit his brow in confusion as he followed her, “You sure about that?”
She rolled her eyes, “Yes, just come on,” she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the door.
He was hesitant as he followed her up to the large metal door, worried momentarily she might have been serious about the demon thing until she opened the door.
“Holy shit,” he swore as he glanced around the giant arcade.
She clenched her hands in front of her nervously, “What do you think?”
There was no party, not even close, in fact the only other people in the building were employees.
“I’m confused.”
She sighed, “I thought it was weird when you said you wanted to go to that party, I mean it’s not really your scene,” she glanced away from him, her normal confidence seeming to fade in an instant, “I don’t know, I kind of got to thinking maybe you just wanted to go because we were going together, and I thought that maybe you’d want to do something a little more personal so I rented out this old arcade,” she bit her lip, “I don’t know, maybe that was stupid, the party is real though, we can go to that instead if you want…”
Peter stared at her for a minute, trying to connect the dots, “L-Like a date?”
She nodded, “Maybe, I don’t know, it kind of seemed like that was the vibe.”
“No, no, no,” he grabbed her arms, stopping her from walking away, “I want to go on a date with you so bad.”
“So you rented a whole arcade?” he gaped.
“Oh come on Peter, you already know I’m excessive,” she groaned, “God, this was so stupid, let’s just go to the damn party.”
Her cheeks flushed, “You do?”
He nodded, “Yeah, I’m just a little shocked, you didn’t have to do this for me.”
“I didn’t really know what to do,” she fiddled with a piece of her hair, still unable to meet his eyes, “I mean you know I’m pretty sure of myself most of the time, but you make me nervous.”
“I make you nervous?” he went wide eyed while she nodded.
“I’ve never really liked a guy before, at least no this much,” she explained, “And I mean we can go to the party if you want still, but if you want this to be a first date I just thought something a little more special would be nice…”
A smile spread across his face, “There is nothing I’d like more than for this to be our first date.”
She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck, “We haven’t even started the first one.”
“Thank god, it would have been totally humiliating if you said no,” an airy laugh escaped her lips.
“There wasn’t a chance of that happening,” he assured, “I can’t really afford to rent out an arcade, but I’ll plan our second date okay?”
“No but you went through all this trouble, I figured you’d want another.”
She rolled her eyes, “You know Peter if this relationship is gonna work I think my ego is big enough for the both of us.”
He laughed and pressed his head to hers, “We’ll see how you feel after I kick your ass at every game in here.”
“There is not a chance in hell you’re winning even one game tonight,” she leaned in just a tad, “But I’ll tell you what, if you do I’ll give you a kiss.”
He smiled and pressed a quick kiss to her nose before pulling away, “You’re on.”
193 notes · View notes
fantasia-monogram · 3 years
Text
As the clock strikes midnight, part 3/3
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / epilogue
♥️ Taeyang x reader (nonbinary, female anatomy) x Jaeyoon; mentions of other SF9 members
♥️ NSFW (~4.2k words); threesome smut. Light BDSM, voyeurism, safe sex. No one is 100% straight.
♥️ You’re a beast at work, having to be tough to climb up the corporate ladder, but what you never thought of is that your attitude might be intimidating to your long time crush. Luckily, your much more laid back friend is here to help... both of you. Please read part 1 and 2 before this!
♥️ Disclaimer: this is just for fun! I’m not claiming that’s how they are in real life, it’s just my imagination doing whatever it wants. Read at your own discretion.
You were in the process of taking off your satin top (the shorts and the nightgown were absentmindedly discarded back in the kitchen and you could swear you were almost embarrassed at how eager you were) when you noticed with the corner of your eye that Taeyang, instead of taking place on the bed like you established earlier, approached Jaeyoon. 
"Before we start, I just… wanted to say thank you," he said softly, putting his hand on Jaeyoon's exposed bicep. "You were always rooting for Y/n and I, and if not for you, I'd probably never confess." 
Jaeyoon chuckled, pulling the boy into a tight embrace. Despite the heartwarming nature of this scene, you couldn't help but feel arousal rush through your body: the sight was dreamy to say the least, considering they were both almost naked, if not for Jaeyoon's boxer briefs and Taeyang's light grey slacks. 
"I know, I'm the best wingman ever," the older of your friends concluded, "Everything for my best friends," he added with a devilish smirk, looking straight at you. 
That gave you an equally devilish idea to kickstart this whole scene. 
"You sure do love Taeyang a lot, don't you?" You asked, now standing there in black lace boxer shorts only. 
"Of course I do! He's my favorite dongsaeng!" Jaeyoon confirmed enthusiastically. 
You hadn't missed the way the boy in question eyed you hungrily, his plush lips slightly parted at the sight.
"Why don't you show me how much you like him, then?" 
They both glanced at you with unreadable expressions. Then, they turned to look into each other's eyes.
Both you and Jaeyoon, already set on the idea, were eagerly waiting for Taeyang's permission. Obviously, you wouldn't mind if he objected, since you were about to have fun anyway…
First, he slowly moved his hands away from Jaeyoon; he spread his arms and put them up in a surrendering gesture. Then, he looked at his friend through his long lashes, mirroring his smirk. 
He nodded, and as if on a cue, Jaeyoon surged forward to press his lips against Taeyang's. Circling Taeyang's waist with his arms, Jaeyoon started pushing the guy towards the bed, not breaking the passionate kiss even for a second. 
You were sure you couldn't get any wetter, and you were all just starting; you never even dreamed of witnessing two most attractive men you've ever known playing like this in front of you - and on your order, on top of that - but here you were. Taeyang's needy little grunts only made the experience better. 
Just as they reached the edge of the bed, Jaeyoon broke the kiss to give Taeyang a hard slap on the bottom; the choked moan the boy let out being like music to your ears. To finish this private show, Jaeyoon shoved the boy onto the mattress and, to make the best of his temporary distraction, he slid Taeyang's slacks down in one harsh motion, revealing a half-hard bulge trapped in bright red briefs. 
The blush on Taeyang's face was almost the same colour, spreading through his long neck.
"Very well!", you laughed with utter satisfaction. 
Taeyang used this moment to free himself of the pulled down pants completely, not breaking eye contact with Jaeyoon. 
"Sit up, hands behind your back." Jaeyoon commanded; you've never heard him use such a harsh tone before, but you figured he just stepped into his Dom self. "No touching. Behave for us." 
Taeyang obediently did as he was told. It wasn't easy for you to not stare at his lean body. 
Meanwhile, Jaeyoon sat back in an armchair placed in front of the bed. You walked across the room to straddle his lap, facing him. An exchange of amused smiles followed. 
You threw a side glance towards Taeyang, who was now sitting propped on his arms, legs slightly spread, hungry expression on his face again. You were always proud of your backside; no wonder he couldn't look away despite the deep blush on his cheeks.
"Why don't you tell me everything about your crush on me while Jaeyoon and I get busy?" you asked playfully.
Taeyang exhaled deeply. 
"Okay." 
Jaeyoon must have developed some kind of mind connection with you after all these years, because his next question made you snort. 
"Aren't you happy I dragged you through all those back and leg days in the gym?" 
He accentuated his words by sliding his hands through your sides, only to rest them on your waist. You shivered, not having been touched like this for a long time. 
"My ass has always been better than yours," you retorted, combing your fingers through his hair. You felt so excited you almost wanted to kiss him, but you instantly became aware of Taeyang's presence in the room; so instead, you leaned forward to press your lips onto Jaeyoon's neck. This way, you gave Taeyang an even better view of your butt. 
Jaeyoon sighed quietly. You pulled on his hair to push his head to the side; with easier access, you started leaving lingering, wet kisses along his neck and shoulder, making sure your ass was on display all that time. 
You heard Taeyang gulp. 
"I… can't say it was love at first sight. It started when we were both put in Customer Service and you cut your hair short… You refused to work at phone support, they complied and I thought it was impressive."
As you continued to work on Jaeyoon's shoulders, encouraged by his laboured breathing, his hands slid through your waist, lingering over your bottom for a couple seconds, to stop on the back of your thighs. 
"It's embarrassing, but I happened to walk by the conference room during that meeting, and I heard everything." 
"Bullshit," Jaeyoon laughed under his breath, squeezing your thighs in his hands, "You checked Y/n's calendar earlier and stood under that door like a lovesick idiot, looking around all that time." 
You froze for a moment. Taeyang made a strangled, frustrated sound. 
"Okay, yes! That's what actually happened," he admitted. "You had them in your grasp the moment you walked into that room. They basically made a whole new position for you. I've never heard you speak with that tone before, it… it almost made me hard."
You were still stunned, knowing your first display of charisma in the company resulted in so much more than a comfortable job you enjoyed. Feeling your knees going weak, you sank down to sit on Jaeyoon's lap, pressing yourself against his thigh. 
Oh, shit. You were so wet. 
Jaeyoon chuckled when he noticed the wetness smearing on his skin, and gave you a light smack on the side of your leg that served more like a reminder to stay present rather than a proper slap. 
His hands traveled up your body, slowly approaching your chest area. 
"So you were climbing the ladder at the Compliance Department, while I kept taking calls, and this difference turned me on even more, since you still somehow considered me a friend…" Taeyang continued, clearly having more and more trouble speaking. "You started taking your job so seriously… You were praised for your work ethic… And you'd always say dating would only distract you from your career." 
Jaeyoon pulled you closer. He carefully cupped your breasts and, after he leaned down a bit, took one of your nipples in his mouth. 
You gasped, taken by surprise as he sucked on it slowly. 
Taeyang let out a choked sob. You couldn't see him, but you could only imagine how frustrated he must have been at this point; that, combined with the physical sensation, made you grind down on Jaeyoon's thigh. That wasn't enough, so you moved even closer until your core hovered over Jaeyoon's still clothed, rock hard bulge. Now, that was the kind of warmth you were seeking.
You exchanged a quick glance with Jaeyoon, just to make sure he was fine with this as well. He gave you a reassuring smile.
The sound of the sheets rustling distracted you from responding. 
"Don't you even think about it." Jaeyoon growled in Taeyang's direction. 
Taeyang whimpered once again, clearly on the edge. 
"I wanna take care of him," you whispered into Jaeyoon's ear, circling your arms around his neck, "Let's end this part real quick." 
Your friend murmured an understanding mhmm and propped his chin on the crook of your shoulder. You figured he was staring straight at Taeyang now. Oh, how you couldn't wait to do that too.
"You're awfully quiet for someone so desperate."
Jaeyoon caressed your back once again, finally letting his hands land on your ass. 
"Why don't you finish your little story? I'm sure Y/n would love to hear more of your pathetic whines."
With that, he squeezed handfuls of your flesh, spreading your cheeks. You were sure Taeyang could see your juices glistening on the black lace of your underwear in the dimmed lights. 
You kept still, breathing heavily. The need to squirm under Jaeyoon's firm touch was clouding your mind, but you didn't want to leave Taeyang without the visual of your briefs and inner thighs all soaking wet. 
"Most coworkers think we have a secret relationship anyway…" Taeyang struggled to keep it up. "And I wish it was true. I promise I will never try to interfere with your career… and I will do my best to get a higher position so you won't ever be ashamed of dating me…" 
Jaeyoon slid his tongue along your neck, stopping right below your ear to suck on the skin there lightly. It was soft, without using teeth, and you appreciated the tender gesture. 
"Now, just… Please… Please touch me, I beg you," Taeyang's voice was breaking. "I can't take it anymore. Please wreck me." 
That was enough, you were close to snapping as well. 
You gently pushed Jaeyoon away and did a subtle nod in Taeyang's direction. 
“You’re so worked up,” Jaeyoon whispered, giving you yet another encouraging pat on the thigh, “Be careful, don’t hurt yourself.”
You gave him a confused stare, but upon closer look, you noticed you weren’t just shivering anymore - your hands were shaking, your head was spinning, and you could barely support yourself on wobbly legs.
You carefully exhaled and stepped out of Jaeyoon’s lap, turning to face Taeyang.
The boy stared at you with glassy eyes, hands gripping the sheets behind him, legs spread, a clear outline of his cock on his briefs on display. He was just as wrecked as you expected, yet you intended to wreck him even more. 
As you walked towards the bed, you swiftly pushed down your underwear and got rid of it on your way. You stood in your full naked glory in between Taeyang's thighs, and to be honest, you never felt more confident in your entire life. 
You tangled your fingers into his hair, marvelling at how soft it felt. Then, once you reached the back of his head, you pulled it harshly so that Taeyang could look up at you fully. 
Hearing his surprised gasp gave your Dom side an enormous boost. 
"I can't believe you kept it in for so long." You said in a firm tone, slowly leaning towards his face, "I couldn't possibly let you have your way after such disappointment. It's gonna be all about me tonight." 
It took a couple seconds of intense staring into each other's eyes before Taeyang collected his thoughts enough to speak. 
"Please… Use me however you want it." 
He batted his eyelashes in a sultry way. 
"I'm all yours."
Now that you had his full permission, you closed the distance between you two with a tender kiss. Knowing your strict self turned him on, you didn't want to break the character, so you hoped this would be enough to convey your feelings. 
The kiss got deeper, but never lost its loving undertone. You untangled your fingers from Taeyang's hair and cradled his face with one hand instead, while moving the other across his neck and chest. That's when you pushed on his torso, giving him a cue to lie down. 
He whined when he had to detach from your lips, but complied without any further protest. At last, you could straddle his thighs. You kept your core mere millimeters away from his crotch that definitely needed attention. 
"I'm not gonna keep you like this for long, I've had enough waiting," you warned, lightly roaming your fingers through his ribs and stomach. Delicate muscles of his abdomen quivered under your ministrations. 
"It's fine either way," he replied under his breath, "I can last long." 
"We'll see about that." 
To make a point, you slid up to press on his length. The boy moaned loudly; his delightful sounds, as well as the friction, encouraged you to repeat the motion a few more times. Taeyang was doing better than you expected, that's for sure. He just focused on steady breathing, still gripping the sheets under him, while you felt way too close to your own climax just grinding down against him. 
You really had a treasure in your hands. 
Deciding you're done playing, you stopped to take a look at your workings. You traced the outline of his cock with your thumb. It wasn't too thick, which was actually perfect for you, but long enough to make you a bit concerned.
You pressed on the head, feeling out the slit. A wet spot appeared on the red fabric. Taeyang let out a strangled moan; it was pointless to keep him struggling like that, regardless of his promises. 
You stepped down on the floor to help Taeyang slide off his underwear. He hissed when his cock finally sprung out of the restraints. You swallowed thickly, feeling your mouth water at the sight; you couldn't wait to play with it more some other time - definitely not now, when you were ready to cum from the visual alone. 
Hopping back onto his lap again, you grabbed a condom you conveniently left by the pillow before you started. 
"Do you want me to do it for you?" You asked, not wanting to overstimulate the poor boy even further. 
"Yes, please," he begged. 
Despite your trembling and being terribly out of practice, you tried your best to put the condom on smoothly. Once it was in place, you reached to pet Taeyang's hair and cheek again. His face relaxed a bit; he even looked at you with hooded eyes. 
"Good boy." You smiled at him. "You can touch me now. I'll need your help, I've never taken such a big boy before."
Taeyang didn't need to be told twice. He used his left hand to hold the base of his cock for you. You lined your entrance with his length, feeling out of breath already, the pent up desire becoming too much to handle; you whined at the momentary discomfort when trying to sink onto Taeyang's cock, but his thumb was on your clit as soon as he heard it, gently smearing your juices on it in little circles. The touch alone put you on fire. It still wasn't enough - however, before you thought of backing off, Taeyang carefully spread your labia with his long fingers. This made things much easier for you and, after a series of small back-and-forth movements, you took in his entire length. 
You circled your hips experimentally, trying to get accustomed to the stretch - you definitely underestimated his thickness before - but once you leaned forward and felt pressure right on your sweet spot, your mind went totally blank. You didn't mean to be selfish, but it felt so overwhelming you just started grinding with Taeyang's cock fully inside you, instead of riding him properly. He didn't complain, though. He kept massaging your clit in that careful, barely-there way that only helped you focus on the delightful stretch rather than distract you, while his other hand was caressing your body wherever he could reach. You could hear his gasps too, but it was all muffled when you were so struck on chasing your orgasm. 
It hit you out of blue, embarrassingly fast, making you cry out both out of surprise and pleasure; it caught you off guard so much you almost regretted not taking your time.
The good side of it was that you could still ride Taeyang towards his climax without overstimulating yourself. You stopped moving for a moment only to grasp his wrists and move his hands onto your waist. 
"Sit up." You ordered, willing yourself into composure. 
He did as you told, anticipation burning in his eyes. You cradled his cheeks, facing him up close. 
"You did so well," you praised him, following with a deep kiss. That's when you noticed he was out of breath, just as wrecked as you wanted him to be; so ruined that when you pushed your tongue into his mouth, he sighed needily, letting his saliva drip down his chin. 
Oh, he was such a good boy. 
"Are you okay? Nothing hurts?" he whispered into the kiss. You tried to not melt because of his genuine concern, as you still had a lot planned out. 
"Don't you worry, baby. Everything's perfect." 
To prove your point, you raised your hips so only the tip was still inside you. Much to your relief, nothing hurt indeed. You were already set on coming for the second time, just to follow your somewhat underwhelming, sudden orgasm with something much better - both for your and Taeyang's pleasure.
You smoothly sank in again, then again, until you set a steady pace. You thoroughly enjoyed all the sounds Taeyang was unashamedly making, as well as his blissed out expressions, but the way he tried to make you go faster by holding onto your waist was something you would not accept. 
You stilled mid-thrust, earning a truly heartbreaking stare from Taeyang. 
"Hands off," you commanded, "Keep them behind you, on the sheets." 
You were sure you were driving him crazy at this point and you weren't even done yet, so to give him some momentary gratification, you set a fast pace, propping yourself on his shoulders. Getting so much control over the boy, as well as his desperate cries, were giving you enough energy to keep going like this for a while. 
You were amazed at the fact he didn't come yet, despite being fully hard all that time, and you knew you couldn't draw it out for much longer as you felt another orgasm approaching. Unable to hold it anymore, you decided to help yourself with your own hand.
Soon, you came again, clenching hard on Taeyang's length; the magnitude of this climax almost knocked you out.
"Please, please…" Taeyang whimpered, tears strolling down his face, "Just a little more…" 
You rode the afterglow out, already feeling Taeyang twitch, but you knew you couldn't go like this for long without the sensation becoming painful. You stilled, keeping him in all the way, squeezing around him in a set rhythm. 
You pulled harshly on his hair. 
"What a needy slut you are."
He barely managed to react to your words when you slapped his face. 
His eyes rolled back and, with a drawn out moan, he thrusted upwards into you, spilling his cum into the condom.
You felt like it took him forever to finish, however, you didn't mind it at all when you were able to observe him so out of it, staring blankly through barely open eyelids, breathing in sharp little gasps - and all of that when his hips were still so flush with yours. The warmth and throbbing you felt inside despite the synthetic barrier soothed you after all the rough treatment. 
Once Taeyang was done, he cautiously laid back onto the mattress. He pulled you into an embrace, helping you slide off his cock as gently as possible. 
Just as you nestled yourself comfortably on his chest, you got startled by a grunt to your right. You looked into that direction, with Taeyang following you immediately - Jaeyoon was leaning against the wall, his hand wrapped around his cock, streaks of cum already dripping out of his fist. 
"I'm good! I'm good," he reassured, raising his head, a slightly twisted smirk on his face. He reached for a tissue from the nightstand and wiped his hand clean.
You hated to admit it, but you kind of forgot he was there. Suddenly, the situation became a bit awkward - Jaeyoon didn't seem to be phased, though. 
"That was amazing," he huffed, voice still exasperated, "But I'd love to catch some sleep tonight." 
You didn't want to be rude, but you really weren't that keen on asking him to crash at your place when you'd rather spend the rest of the night with Taeyang in your arms without any intruders.
"I'll clean up and be on my way. No one will be surprised if you two show up together in the morning, but my folks at HR will ask me some uncomfortable questions if I come with you instead of my usual time."
When your friend approached, he surprised you with a quick smooch to your cheek, then did the same to Taeyang - none of you opposed, too tired to react. 
"Have fun, lovebirds!" Jaeyoon said, leaving the room. "Don't forget to lock the door later." 
"That guy…" you laughed quietly. You sat up to check up on Taeyang. 
Your heart wrenched at the sight beneath you: the boy just laid there with a hand loosely tangled in his hair, his cheeks shining with tears, eyelids swollen from crying and, most likely, sleepiness.
"You need a shower, baby. " You caressed the side of his face. 
"Gimme a break…" Taeyang groaned, covering his eyes. 
"I'll shower with you." 
He was up in a second. 
Half an hour later, clean and fresh after washing up, you went back to bed. The night was warm even with the windows open, so you just laid there next to each other, holding hands, not even bothering to put on any clothes. 
"That's an unusual way to start a relationship," you snorted, squeezing Taeyang's hand tighter. He seemed like a hand holding 24/7 type of a person, fingers intertwined, all that jazz. You loved it. 
"How else would we do it?" Taeyang asked, his tone dry. "Should I take you on a date? Come to your place? Watch Netflix together until we fall asleep? We've done all of that already." 
Your eyes went wide at the realization. Damn, he was right. You've had coffee and lunch dates countless times, you just never called them dates. He's been a regular guest in your apartment, and vice versa. That one time you fell asleep huddled on the couch while watching a movie was lowkey embarrassing, though - Jaeyoon was supposed to pick you two up for dinner and a movie night at the cinema, but arrived two hours late because of a family emergency. He woke you up by banging on the door; you were relieved Taeyang slept hard enough to not notice he draped his arms around you and drifted away with his nose in the crook of your neck. 
"We're sex freaks. I wouldn't have imagined a better way." 
His statement made you blush despite everything you had done before. 
"Is there anything I could do for you as a birthday present?" He asked after a longer pause, turning his head to look into your eyes. "Something you've always wanted to do." 
"I… I always…" you started, immediately catching his drift, "I always wanted to peg a pretty boy." 
You smiled at the mere possibility of your wish being granted. 
Taeyang chuckled, amused. 
"Sure. Do you have everything we need?" 
You couldn't help but laugh out loud, pulling him into a hug. He easily complied, tangling his limbs with yours in a tight embrace. 
"I do, I do!" you giggled, all giddy. "Just give me a moment, okay? I'll get the stuff in a minute."
A passionate kiss followed. You just wanted to enjoy the sensation: now that you had him all for yourself, without the desperation of your first time together, you intended to fully melt into his touch. Taeyang seemed to love it just as much, his body eagerly replying to your caresses; he wasn't shy with being vocal either, his moans and gasps matching yours. 
Soon, the kisses and touches turned rough, and once you felt his length all hot and hard on your thigh, you couldn't bother to even think of your earlier intentions. You grabbed a packet of condoms from the nightstand, tossed it to Taeyang (he almost missed it, caught off guard) and shamelessly spread your legs.
Taeyang didn't get to grant your birthday wish that night. Instead, you had two more rounds - last one with both of you so exhausted, yet still so turned on, you fell asleep right after you came. Completely vanilla, but that was all fine. You've had all the time in the world to enjoy each other and explore all of your deepest, darkest fantasies… Well, maybe except the rest of that particular night, since you had about four hours of sleep left before having to wake up to get ready for work.
Bless the company management for organizing a monthly get-together on freaking Wednesday.
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