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#this took nearly 30 minutes (and i don’t even think I included everything)
graniteknight · 3 months
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A very long overdue analysis on the two big loser knights and how the relationship between them is something that developed majorly over time.
Understandable that Clay and Lance’s friendship wasn’t really that understood in the very first episodes of the series, considering from first glance they just seem like the duo that hate eachother.
(honestly I completely thought they hated eachother when I was like 9/10 which is when I first watched it ..) but looking into their relationship more you realise that they don’t HATE eachother, they just hate their contradictory opinions and ideas.
They’re polar opposites when it comes to character, Lance doesn’t give any care about anything really, and Clay cares too much about everything. considering the way they grew up makes quite the impact on this as well. With one barely having anyone take care of them and the other barely getting any sort of attention from their family.
The way they care about eachother is probably the way they stick out the most. It’s like they care for eachother in a way, but expressing it is harder for one compared to the other. What I mean is, they both have these flaws about them which makes them so.. interesting.
I absolutely love s3, and the way it shows their development from s2 -> s3 says a lot. (even from s1 -> s2 you can see a slight difference in their development too.) but s3 really sticks out because it’s just those parts where they’re just being absolute idiots together. (especially with the bizarre addition of clay and the wet floor sign.. idk what he was doing there.)
When it comes to s1 and specifically ep4 the way Lance goes about the whole thing with Clay being upset over losing the knights code. (idk if it was a whole team thing deciding to get it digitalised for him so I can’t really say anything about that..)
I like the random thought of Lance actually reading the knights code and quoting it in s4, I thought that was really sweet considering how much he takes the absolute piss out of it. (Also I before I forget to mention Lance usually referring to Clay with different nicknames such as super knight is really silly, idk why.)
The way they didn’t really agree on anything, and yet still made their friendship work is something I truly love about them. (**another thing before I forget, Lance suggesting they should split up and find clay in ep5 is something that is just.. uausgsb..)
Also in ep17 when Clay joined in with being a complete IDIOT, because Lance was pulling the faces at him is so real.. they care for eachother sm in every way but don’t know how to express it..
s3 and Lance worrying about Clay ALOT was so silly, he was constantly worrying about if he was actually going to be okay for their missions (especially in rotten luck) . also with ep27 and taking the piss out of eachother, (especially with their art knowledge..)
I love them sm.. and I don’t think I could NOT overanalyse their relationship as much as I do usually.
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I need to stop with the lego gays.. they’re taking over always.. and there’s nothing I can do about it.
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scretladyspider · 5 months
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please don’t scroll; I really need your help to reach my gofundme goal of $3500 and not become homeless.
Im Elle, a queer, ace, disabled person with ADHD, depression, and two cats. In November, I lost my job without warning. I have no savings as the job already had me living to the last dollar of every paycheck. I was denied unemployment and food stamps. I cannot work away from home, a physical job, or something with strict hours due to some yet-to-be-diagnosed illness.
this is my story — what’s going on & how I got here. (Smaller text used because it’s a lot of information/a long post.)
In early 2018, I was doing regular walk/runs. In 2019, I stopped being able to run, so I went on walks. Running took hours, then days, to recover from. My body couldn’t produce energy to do it consistently, so, walks. In 2020, I kept going on walks and tried to do aerobics. I was not able to keep doing aerobics. My body took hours upon hours to recover, where before it hadn’t, I was alone for almost all of 2020, and never developed COVID symptoms; it was what happened with running all over again. In 2021, it started to take more time to recover from walks. Then I started to need to take a nap immediately after I clocked out from work— and it was a work from home job. In 2022, I began to go from my sitting desk job straight to my bed most days, laying down exhausted right after work, even sleeping through lunch to get some rest.
On New Year's Eve 2023, I spent 30 minutes cleaning, including vacuuming my living room. I had to rest the rest of the day.
In the last five years, I've gone from running to being exhausted for hours by taking my garbage to the curb.
Imagine you were someone who enjoyed recreational exercise. Now imagine doing 1/100th of that and feeling sick for days. Thats me.
There are other symptoms also. More vulnerability to infection and more trouble fighting infection. Shooting, sharp muscle pains in large muscles such as the thigh or forearm, like a pinched nerve, that come and go at random. Pulse rate that skyrockets upon standing, to go back to normal soon after. Stomach inflammation. Inflammation without major swelling. Headaches. Complete inability to tolerate heat, leading to excruciating migraines that only go away with things like cold showers, electrolytes, and hours of rest in the dark with ice. Muscles that literally don't feel like they're getting oxygen. Random rashes. Face flushing. Being much more easily out of breath, yawning over and over, like I can't get air correctly. Weight gain, no matter what I eat or don't eat.
And just being so, so tired.
In summer of 2018, something… stopped working in my body. I felt sick all the time. I had a low, unexplainable fever nearly every day. Shooting nerve pain would wake me up at night. The doctor said I had a cold. But months went by and I didn’t get better. When my blood work and thyroid hormone level was normal, I was referred to a rheumatologist.
I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia after he made me wait 45 minutes, came in and asked “are you tired?", poked me hard, said I was tender, and left without running tests. This sort of “uhm the standard blood work came back normal, have you tried exercising more? I know you’re here because your body can’t recover from it but have you tried more of that? Also going to sleep at night?” has been the response over and over and over for five years. It got to the point where I even started to wonder if I was somehow making it up. I see a psych nurse. She thinks there's more than just depression, ADHD, and other things - though we both agree that managing those is vital too. She used to be a cardiologist, so this is reassuring. But when I have tried to see other doctors, it goes differently. Most of the time they see I have ADHD, a long history of depression, and hypermobile joints, and say that explains everything. I can't count how many times I've been told "well, you have depression” when the labs, if they even agreed to run them, came back normal. My standard blood work sometimes comes back with anemia, but I take an iron supplement. No improvement had come of it. I’ve had my thyroid hormone levels tested over and over, but never the antibodies. No imaging or referrals have happened, outside of one to a second rheumatologist. He ran no tests either; he just saw my joints are hypermobile and I was “sure taking a lot of mental health medications” (two at the time), and… that was that.
I had given up on actually even getting help until my SIL recommended a doctor she knew. For the first time in five years, when the standard blood work and TSH tests were normal, she told me we would keep looking. I actually cried with relief at that. It’s amazing to be believed after all this time.
Because of …. All of this, I'm trying to figure out how to either work for myself or find a work from home job that has flexible hours I can choose. I literally wouldn't be able to work a retail gig where I have to stand for eight hours, or even a 9-5 where I have to be there for those exact hours, because my body cannot do that right now. I want to get better but it's a long way off. First I need to know what's even wrong. I'm praying for a diagnosis soon. And treatment. At the least, management.
I have heard of EDS and I have been evaluated. I apparently don’t meet enough criteria, hence the diagnosis of JHS instead. It’s in the same family. I have also heard of POTS. I am pursuing testing. Same with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, MCAS, fibromyalgia… yeah. The thing is nothing outside of the standard blood count and thyroid hormone level test, no other lab tests have been done. There are so many things this could be that have never been checked. Lyme disease, for example, is extremely common where I live (it’s actually just extremely common worldwide) and matches much of my experience, but 1) in the USA the initial Lyme test relies on a strain of bacteria cultured in the 80s 2) there are over 100 strains of Lyme disease in the USA 3) in spite of decades of research there are doctors who don’t believe chronic Lyme exists 4) no doctor has ever checked and I only recently learned anything about it so I never asked. But… there are a lot of things to check that I’ve never had checked is my point. Fingers crossed someone can help me get there.
I do not have a partner who can try to support me through this, and my family already supports me however they can. My severance (which was low as I found out I was being paid much less than the rest of the team later) paid only my January rent.
Since my ability to work is severely limited right now, and I've been denied unemployment and food stamps, and I would need a diagnosis and to be awarded disability benefits in court (which can take YEARS that I don’t have), I have nothing in savings because of years of underpaying jobs the cost of living and being disabled and going through prior periods of unemployment due to this and other factors, I am left in a tough spot without help. Without this help, this gofundme... I have nothing.
So... here I am. A queer nonbinary disabled neurodivergent writer, trying my best, living with some undiagnosed illness that's severely impacted my ability to function, who got fired without real reasons (in America they can just do that to you without even telling you why), asking for your help to pay my February rent and January bills so I don’t repeat the trauma of being homeless. Or for you to reblog this.
Thank you for reading all of this.
It’s been on my chest for a long time. Even if it wasn’t for the gofundme, it feels good to talk about and be honest about my health. It reminds me you’re not supposed to feel like this all the time when I tell other people and they tell me I should get help and deserve answers. It’s reassuring to see competent doctors who finally believe me. I hope we figure it out.
no donation is too small— they add up. If just 100 people gave $35, the goal would be met. Sharing is also giving— it means someone who can help is more likely to see it.
You can also help via my venmo — secretladyspider
CashApp — secretladyspider
or find PayPal in my tip jar in my linktree
Goal is $3500 or over. Funds needed ASAP. If it goes over, that’ll help with February.
Thank you for anything and everything.
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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.
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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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sunshineseung · 3 years
Text
Paperwork // Hyunjin
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🍄 | genre: smut (18+ only) ☁️ | pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 5.1k 🌸 | includes: switch-dom!hyunjin, switch-sub!reader, oral (both receiving), PIV riding, pet names, begging, kinda goofy at first, cum swallowing, “sir”, a lil bit more but not too much
☀️ | synopsis: You’ve been working at this office for five painstakingly long years, but despite your best efforts, you never get a raise or promotion. When the CEO retires, his son takes his place, and seeing as you’re around the same age as his son, this could be your chance to get ahead. 
🌊 | If you want to skip to the smut, look for the [🔥] because there’s a lot of set up for this one, but I know some people just want to get off lol.
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He has finally stepped down. After 60 long, long years, the CEO of the company you work at has retired, as if he didn’t have enough money to retire 30 years ago.
The amount of times you’ve been told off by that man is practically uncountable. It felt like at one point you were going into his office every week to ask for any sort of promotion, raise, or even kudos, but every time, he turned up his nose and shooed you away like some kind of stray cat. You’ve worked too long and too hard to not be given proper treatment. Despite everything, you stay at the company, knowing no where else in the city will pay nearly as well.
The company now belongs to his oldest son, Hyunjin. He’s never worked in this office, yet the old man still thought it would be appropriate for him to run the entire company (supervised by a few HRs, of course). Hyunjin looked like a complete fool trying to command the floors of burnt out office workers just trying to pay next month’s rent and put food on their tables, not that he would know what it’s like to work for anything. The first job he’s ever had and it’s the CEO of a multi-million dollar enterprise, who would have thought?
This is your chance. He’s right around your age, give or take a few months, and he seems marginally more friendly than his father. If you were ever going to climb the corporate ladder to finally move out of your studio apartment, it was right now.
Wearing the tightest, shortest skirt you own with the perfect button up to match, you step into his office after scheduling a meeting with his temporary secretary. When you sit down in the chair across from him, he just sighs and waits for you to speak your piece so he can get back to his grueling job of signing documents that he never reads.
“Good morning, sir. I was just coming up here to compliment you on how well you’ve been running the place since your father stepped down. It seems like company morale is at an all time high, and I can’t imagine thanking anyone other than you.”
“So you want a promotion, right?” He scoffs, grabbing a pen to click repeatedly as you struggle coming up with a response. You weren’t expecting him to be so quick on his feet considering he would stutter over every word talking at meetings. “I assume you didn’t come in here just to kiss my ass.”
“Alright, you caught me, but can I at least make my case?” He looks up from the pen to wordlessly incite you to keep talking. “I’ve been working here since I got out of college. This is really my dream, and it would mean the world to me if I could get farther, work harder, and, if you’re feeling so inclined, get a bit of a paycheck raise.”
“Well, you caught me on the right day, miss...”
“L/n. But you can call me Y/n if you want.”
“Y/n.” Hyunjin puts the pen down and leans on his desk, elbows propping himself up. “If you’re up for the task, I am looking for a new secretary.”
“As I’ve heard.” The rumor has been going around that his father left his secretary for Hyunjin, but all they’ve been doing if fighting, so they had to bring in a temporary one, the one you spoke with, to hold him off until Hyunjin finds a secretary he likes. “Not to be rude, but wouldn’t you rather have a male secretary like your father had?”
“No, no. I know what I want.” He runs his hand through his black hair, slipping out the ponytail that was holding the long strands out of his face. “I want you to be my secretary. No one else.”
He drags his fingers through a stack of papers on his desk, stopping at a five page contract booklet. He slides you the papers and the pen he was just fiddling with.
“If you really want this promotion, you’ll sign on that dotted line right now.”
🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞
Working for Hyunjin wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Once he warms up to you, he’s actually really sweet. If you mess up his coffee or misscedule a meeting, he doesn’t fire you immediately, but rather just assures you that it’s okay and you’ll do better next time, a total 180 from what you saw that first time in his office. After a few weeks, you’re a dream to work with, and the job is a lot less stressful than you had assumed.
Hyunjin, on the other hand, was beyond stressed. Meeting after meeting, signature after signature, decision after decision: it was all too much. The only time he smiled was when you brought him coffee in the morning, or when he’d hear your voice through the phone. He always looked forward to seeing you, even if it was only for a brief minute. You were really the only thing keeping his sanity together.
“Here’s your coffee, sir.” You put the cup on his desk as he reads a random document. He thanks you, as usual, and takes a quick sip before immediately regretting his decision when he felt his tongue begin to burn. You quick go to his mini-fridge and pass him a water bottle, standing back as he gulps half of it down to relieve at least some of the pain. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for it to get that hot!”
“It’s fine, it’s fine! Don’t worry about it.” He sits back in his chair and slowly turns to you, meeting your eyes in a light-hearted stare. He laughs before finally speaking again. “You’re holding this company together, you know that?”
You laugh right with him, rolling your eyes at his statement. “Oh please, I just forward emails all day.”
“No, I mean it.” He holds his hands out and grabs yours, interlocking your hands in a soft grip. You could easily move back, but you don’t want to. “Without you, I’d be losing my mind.”
“Aw, you’re too kind.” You stand in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say next. The silence isn’t awkward by any means, but you can’t help but wonder why you’re holding the hands of your boss. “You’re doing very well, though. You have some big shoes to fill, and I feel like you’re doing the best you can.”
“Of course you’d say that. You work for me.” Hyunjin lets go of your hands and leans back in his chair again, crossing one of his legs over the other and lazily putting his hands behind his head, lounging back. “Y/n, can I say something crazy?”
“Say whatever’s on your mind, sir. I’m all ears.”
“Ugh, drop the formalities. Just call me Hyunjin, okay?” You nod, letting him continue with his speech. “I really appreciate you, Y/n, and it’s no secret that my family is loaded, so I want to ask if you’d come live with me downtown.”
“W-what?” Your eyes practically bulge out of your head. Living with your boss sounds absolutely insane, but any chance to get out of your shitty apartment is promising. This is the opportunity of a life time, no doubt, but is it worth taking? “Sir, I...”
“For fuck’s sake, call me Hyunjin.” You’ve never heard him curse before. “Listen, I live in a penthouse on the top story of a high-security luxury apartment complex. I’m all alone in a five bedroom apartment with a full view of the town. Going home alone every night is wearing on me, and it would mean a lot to have someone else there, even just to talk to.”
“I need time to think.” You look anywhere but his eyes as he leans forward and looks up at you from his chair.
“Take your time and think it over. I’ll give you until the end of the day.” Hyunjin turns back to his desk and looks at the paper he was reading before he burnt his tongue. “Go back to your office for now, but right after your shift, I want you here.”
“Yes, s-... okay, Hyunjin.”
🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞
Everyone is gone except you, finalizing one last email before heading up to Hyunjin’s office. An office with no workers is eerie to say the least, and as you take the elevator up to Hyunjin’s office, you can’t help but notice how nervous you feel inside.
This is the right decision. As difficult as it might be, you’re going to say no to his offer. It’s extremely unprofessional to have any sort of out-of-work relationship with your boss. Thinking back to the outfit you wore when you took the promotion, it’s no wonder you assume you’ve made Hyunjin think you want this. Your apartment may be shitty, but at least it’s yours. Living with Hyunjin would cause too many problems in your life, and the last thing you need right now is problems.
He was waiting for you. With his head in his hands as you walk through the door, he darts his attention to you as you sit across from him. While it was certainly a familiar sight by now, he was just glad you didn’t run away from him after such an intense morning.
“Hyunjin, I just want to-”
“Stop.” He holds his hand up, pausing you mid-sentence. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I’m just stressed, and I’m not thinking clearly. I shouldn’t have offered you to live with me. That’s not who I am, nor is that something I should have sprung on you like that.” He reverts back to his former position with his head in his hands, staring down at his desk. “I just... I’m so lonely.”
You feel for him, you really do. He’s been thrown into this situation obviously not by choice, and he knows absolutely no one he’s working with other than you. With a stressful job and no one to turn to, it was clear why he was acting so rashly.
You pull his hands away from his head, holding them in yours like you did this morning. Rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand, you give him a gentle smile as he meets your eyes. The bags under his eyes are present, and his tiredness is visible. He looks so worn out to you. You really do feel bad.
“I’m not asking you to move in, but would you like to come back to my penthouse? Just for tonight?” He returns a smile to you, lowering his gaze blankly. “We can have a few drinks and talk. I just need someone with me right now.”
“Only if you’re paying for the taxi.” You two laugh together, appreciating each other’s presence.
“I’ll have my chauffeur drive us back to my place, and afterwards, he can drive you home.”
🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞
Saying that Hyunjin’s apartment was massive would be an understatement. You felt like you walked into a penthouse from a dystopian future with shiny metal counter tops and black leather furniture. It didn’t look lived in, but to be fair, there was only one man living there. You felt cold even though it was room-temperature. 
“Follow me, doll.” Hyunjin takes your hand and leads you to the living room to sit on his L-shaped couch. If his pet name didn’t throw you off, you very well would have just walked there without his assistance, but you didn’t know how to react after being called ‘doll’ by your boss. “Want anything to drink? Wine? Vodka?”
“I’ll take wine, thank you.”
“Red or white?”
“Red.”
Hyunjin pours you both a glass and meets you back on the couch, lounging next to you, letting the soft silence fall over the room as you each take a sip of the expensive booze. As you drink a bit more, Hyunjin’s eyes are glued to you, and you start to break a sweat as the temperature in the room seems to rise. He’s just... staring at you. You feel uneasy, but this alcohol should help calm your nerves, right?
Hyunjin easily notices that you’re starting to slip into deeper thought, so he carefully puts his hand on your knee to bring you back into the moment. His gesture isn’t charged in anyway, but you still jolt at his touch. You dart your eyes towards his while looking like a deer in headlights. 
“Are you alright?” Hyunjin slides his hand up and down your leg only from your knee to mid-thigh. With his other hand, he puts his glass of wine on the coffee table in front of you so he can totally focus on your needs. Even though you hesitantly nod, he isn’t convinced in the slightest. “You want to know why I invited you here?”
“Sure, Hyunjin. Why did you invite me here?” The more he rambles on, the less you have to talk, so you gladly let him fill the silence. 
“Well, to put it simply, I’m interested in you.” You tilt your head in confusion. Was this a confession? “You’re a very intriguing person to me. When you walked into my office for the first time, you suffocated me with your aura. You truly do command a room, you know? That’s probably why you’ve gotten so far in your career.” His chuckle is awkward, and you don’t respond in any way to help his nerves. “You’re a woman that knows what she wants, and I admire that, especially since I don’t even know what I want.”
“How don’t you know what you want?” Your confidence was slowly coming back, although you weren’t sure if it was from the alcohol or your want to pick at Hyunjin’s brain. “You have everything anyone could ever want! Look at where you live!” You gesture to the room around you. The modern art-deco custom paintings, the abstract sculptures, the fake plants that looked too fake to even be considered plant-like. It was a dream, especially for those that lived in the city. “You have the perfect house and the job position people can only dream of.”
“I don’t want this, Y/n.” He stands from the couch, walking over to the wall of glass that separates the living room from the balcony. “This house means nothing. This job position means nothing.” He can’t face you, fearful that you’ll see how weak he is. “I want someone. I want you.”
Silence. You stare down at your legs, unable to even process what Hyunjin just said. Your thumbs rub against each other, fiddling so you can focus on anything else. Hyunjin sighs loudly and turns around, walking back over so he can tower over you. His shadow consumes you, shrouding your figure in slight darkness. A hand slips under your chin, pulling your face up to see him. His eyes sparkle when he looks at you as if he’s enamored by your existence. 
“What do I have to do?” Hyunjin ponders, leaning in closer to you. The scent of his cologne clogs your senses, and all you can think about is Hwang Hyunjin. “What do I have to do to have you?”
Your hand goes to his chest, grabbing his tie. You pull him into you, crashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. Hyunjin puts all of his emotion into this kiss, promising himself that he’ll show his love through his actions. 
Pulling away, you both catch your breath and enjoy the brief silence. For once, it isn’t awkward; the silence is welcomed. 
“Hyunjin,” you twirl his tie between your fingers, “if you want me, then prove it.” 
[🔥]
Hyunjin takes your hand in his, pulling you off the couch. He drags you up to his bedroom without saying a word, assuming you know what’s about to happen. His sheets are all black, neatly made without a stain in sight. Hyunjin sits on the edge of the bed, tapping on his lap to invite you to take a seat. 
You straddle him, feeling heated the second your thighs come in contact with his. It feels unreal, but you want this now more than ever. You didn’t drink even an entire glass of wine, so you can’t blame this decision on any ounce of alcohol. 
“Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” He wraps his long arms around your waist, pulling you into him so your body is pressed against his. “I need to hear you say you want this.”
“Yes, Hyunjin. I’m sure I want this.” You shoot him a smile that never fails to make his heart melt, and he can’t help but kiss you again, his lips perfectly fitting against yours. When you open your mouth to allow his tongue to slip in, he feels like he has reached nirvana. Hyunjin was been wanting this for so god damn long; he could bust in his pants just thinking about it. 
His mouth moves from your lips to your jawline, not leaving any hickeys because he knows you have work tomorrow. His kisses along your jaw and neck make you moan quietly, and your hands slip behind his head into his hair. You curl your fingers into his hair, pulling it ever so slightly. He grunts against your neck, sucking harder than before, accidentally leaving a red mark. 
He pulls off of your throat, breathing heavily, looking into your half-lidded eyes. Your hands rest on the back of his neck, holding him close to you. Hyunjin smiles lightly and pecks your cheek, making you both giggle from his cute gesture. 
“I know I told you not to call me sir, but... maybe just for tonight, you can call me that.” Oh, he’s like that? You kiss him for a moment before pushing him back, his body falling against the sheets. Your body hovers over his, and you roam your hands over his chest and abs, feeling him from over his shirt.
“Alright, sir.” You smile innocently, leaning down, kissing his neck to test his dominance. He doesn’t fuss at this. He accepts your kisses, throwing his head back to give you better access to kiss his neck. Your hands roam all over his body, paying special attention to his chest, or more specifically, his nipples. He groans quietly, biting his lips as your fingers rolls over his nipples. “Oh, you like this?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Sit up. Let me take your shirt off.” He laughs at your commands as he raises his body from the bed and unbuttons the top of his shirt before you step in and unbutton the rest. The slow reveal of his torso his haunting, causing your eyes to dart every which way across his body. He really looks like a Greek god. “This is what you’ve been hiding from me?” 
“Oh please, I’ve been wanting to fuck you since I first laid eyes on you, doll.” There it was again. That damn pet name. He really was going to be the death of you, so you might as well enjoy this. “I’ve had dreams of bending you over my desk and fucking you during work, but that wouldn’t be very appropriate, would it?” 
You gulp out of nervousness, unsure of where to go from here. You were in control for the moment, but now that Hyunjin was letting his emotions out, you keep getting flustered, wishing he would take the reigns over this situation. 
“Aw, is my little doll getting shy?” He brushes his hand across your hot cheek, making you stutter out nonsense. “You’re so cute, baby. I could flip you over and ruin you right now, but we should take our time, right?” 
You nod, tracing your hands on his chest again. Your thumb and pointer finger grip his nipples and twist, causing him to arch his back and fall against the bed once again. He’s putty in your hands again, so you up the ante by pressing your heat against his painfully large bulge in his tight work pants, teasing him just enough to make him weak. The sounds he’s making can only be described as sinful, and you love every minute of it.
You dive your head down to his chest, sucking hickeys into his defined pecs. Your tongue around his nipples makes him keen from pleasure, his hands petting your back up and down. When you lean up to look at all the marks you’ve made, he’s desperately trying to catch his breath. 
“I was supposed to be showing you how much I like you, not the other way around!” He giggles through deep breaths, running his hands down the sides of your body. “Lay back, baby. Let me take care of you, alright?”
You shrug in agreement, dramatically throwing your body back on the mattress for Hyunjin to pin you down under his lean figure. His gaze eats you alive, skimming over your skin like he was about to devour you. 
“You’re absolutely stunning, baby.” He kisses you on the lips, short and sweet, before unbuttoning your dress shirt and revealing your bra, feeling your tits over the fabric. His hands perfectly cup your tits, moving your bra down to play with your hardened nipples. You arch your back into his touch, relaxing and letting him worship your chest. He’s a master with his hands, making you moan and whine just enough for him to get even harder under his tight pants. “Can I take your bra off?”
“Of course, sir. Take it all off for me, alright?” You wink up at him, stirring a fire in his heart. He wants to take you, all of you, inciting him to rapidly strip you of your shirt and bra, tossing them to the side. His lips attach to one of your nipples while his hand goes to the other, playing with the bud between his fingers. His other hand snakes down your body and unbuttons your pants, sneaking down to play with your cunt over your panties. His middle finger pushes your panties into your pussy, saturating them with your wetness. “Please finger me, Hyunjin.”
“Oh, needy already?” He leans up from your chest, sitting between your spread legs as he unbuttons his own pants and pulls them down enough to see his bulge under his tight boxers. He looked so big, bigger than you’ve ever taken. Your cunt becomes drentched in a second of you imagining his cock going inside you. “Staring isn’t polite, you know?”
“S-sorry, sir.” He pulls your pants down your legs, leaving your panties to be the only thing covering you. His hands hug your hips, pulling you right up to him. You feel his bulge against your cunt, making you bite your lip.
One of Hyunjin’s big hands comes down to your cunt, a finger hooking around the bottom of your panties to move them to the side, allowing him to check out your sopping heat. His fingers feather through your folds, circling your needy hole just to tease you. He smiles as you whine and buck your hips up, physically begging him to fuck you dumb.
“My baby’s pussy looks so pretty. I can’t possibly fuck her before I get a taste.” You watch Hyunjin as he scoots down the bed and leans down to be eye-level with your cunt. He licks his lips before diving in, sucking on your clit and running his tongue through your pussy. One arm hooks around your leg while his other comes up to play with your pussy, his fingers teasing your hole before sliding in just enough to make you whine for more. “You’re so sweet, princess.”
“T-Thank you, sir.” You throw your head back when he bends his fingers inside you, curling into your g-spot. Hyunjin hums as you moan loudly, hinting to Hyunjin that you’re close. “C-cum, sir. Need to cum.”
“Aw, my baby’s ready to cum?” Hyunjin teases, going right back to sucking on your clit and mercilessly fingering your tight hole with two fingers. His tongue flicking over your clit is making you so close, your legs shaking as he continues to assault your cunt. “Cum on my fingers, babe.”
Your legs violently shake as you reach your orgasm, all your nerves on edge as waves of pleasure drown your brain. You moan Hyunjin’s name over and over, holding his hair in an iron grip. As you come down, his mouth slowly detaches from your pussy, fully lapping up all your juices.
“Open your mouth.” With your eyes still closed, you open your mouth wide open and let your tongue out, letting Hyunjin do whatever he wants to your mouth. His wet fingers dip into your mouth, pressing against your tongue to make you taste your cunt. You suck lightly on his fingers, tasting yourself before he slips his hand out of your mouth, separating his spit-coated fingers to admire your hard work. “Good girl.”
Your eyes goes back down, staring at the outline of his cock in his boxers. He notices your stare, pulling his waistband down to reveal his long, thick cock, leaking with precum, ready to be stuffed inside you. “W-wanna feel you inside me~”
“Aw, but baby, I’ve fucked you dumb just from my fingers. You think you can handle my cock?” He presses the tip of his cock against your hole, pushing it in just enough to make you whine loudly. He smiles, seeing how fucked out you are so easily. He leans down to your ear, holding your hips in his hands. “Do you really want it?”
His voice is so deep and quiet that it makes you shiver, biting your lips before you can even speak. You breath for a moment to collect yourself. “Yes, sir. I want it.”
“Alright, baby.” Hyunjin gives you a peck on your lips before laying next to you, putting his hands behind his head. You look over at him puzzled, still collecting your breath. “Ride me.”
Hyunjin takes a condom out of his nightstand while you whine and breath more, trying to bring back any feeling to your legs. You regain your strength as he rolls the comdom onto his thick shaft.
You huff and sit up, wobbling before getting balanced on the soft bed. You finally pull off your panties before straddling him. Hyunjin throws his head back as you start to jerk his cock, feeling him twitch in your palm. With your free hand, you pull his pants down more to let you comfortably straddle his hips. As you lower yourself into him, you both groan loudly, you from the stretch and him from the tightness.
Hyunjin’s hands hold tightly onto your waist as you fully lower onto him, halting your movements to allow your cunt to adjust to his size. He bites his lip and stares at your face, admiring your beauty despite your messy hair and sweaty forehead. You slowly raise your hips, gripping Hyunjin’s cock with your cunt as you lower back down.
“You’re so tight, baby- fuck.” Hyunjin’s groans are loud as hell, echoing through the bedroom as you ride him, establishing a slow pace. You feel so full, his tip reaching deep inside you, and you love it. The stretch doesn’t bother you anymore, speeding up slightly. He watches your tits bounce on your chest, teasing him with their perky nipples and forming hickeys.
“Is sir close?” You feel him switch inside you at your question, his eyes squeezing shut as he nods and whines. His grip on your waist looses before his hands fall next to his head. You lean down and pin his wrists to the bed with your hands. Having your tits right in his face makes it even harder to keep his cool.
Suddenly, Hyunjin’s hips buck into you, fucking up into your tight cunt while you force yourself to stay still so he can let out his energy... and your legs were getting tired. He hits your spot with every thrust, desperately fucking you so he can release into the condom. You feel him inside you, his cum ballooning the tip of the condom, making you moan as he whines, saying your name like a mantra. He looks so hot under you, you can’t help but lean down and kiss his pretty, plump lips while he sits inside you.
“I thought I could last longer.” Hyunjin wipes the sweat from his brow as he pulls out of you, pulling off the condom, tying it, and tossing it towards his trash can. “You really know how to break me.”
He doesn’t realize that you’re still on top of him, moving down the bed to take his cock into your mouth. He winces when your hot tongue hits the tip of his cock. You lick up his shaft before taking him into your mouth, testing your gag reflex as you take him down your throat, your nose hitting his pelvis. His hands find home in your hair, pulling tightly as you bob your head on his member.
He’s totally speechless, his brain empty as you suck his cock like a pro. Your tongue feels like heaven on Earth, quickly making him fully hard again and bringing him close to another orgasm. He’s never been over stimulated like this before, whining like a cat in heat as he watches his cock disappear down your throat. You stare up at him, keeping eye contact even if he doesn’t look at you.
He twitches in your mouth, his cock spawning against your tongue as you increase the pace. He bites his lip harsh enough to draw blood as he cums again, your head raising so only the tip is in your mouth while one hand jerks his cock, milking him dry. His vision is fuzzy, mind even foggier. He can’t believe you just did that without a word.
You swallow his cum, wiping the drool off of your chin as you hop up and lay next to him, nuzzling into his chest. He puts an arm around you while you two cuddle in silence.
“You’re really good at that, Y/n.” He huffs, smiling as he looks down at you who’s drifting off to sleep. “Are you gonna sleep over?”
“I was hoping I could. And who knows? Maybe we can fuck in the morning before going to work.”
“Fuck, work.” Hyunjin sighs loudly before groaning from the reminder of all of his stress. “This won’t change our relationship ship at the office, will it?”
“Not publicly, no, but if you ever need to releive some stress during the day, just invite me up to your office and I’d be happy to help you, sir.” You both laugh, finally at ease in each other’s arms. As you drift to sleep, you can’t help but be excited for the proceeding weeks at your work.
This is exactly the raise you needed.
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starlight-loki · 3 years
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hc for Loki meeting a Greek demigod like from the Percy Jackson books? Maybe a child of Hecate because magic and illusion powers?? 👀
aaaAAAA anon you somehow managed to read my mind, I’ve had far too many Greek god/demigod related fic ideas since Thor The Dark World came out, but I was always too lazy to sit down and write the whole thing 😅
reading this ask gave me flashbacks in the best possible way, so THANK YOU and enjoy! :)
at first, Loki thinks you’re one of Doctor Strange’s apprentices
he sees you practicing magic in the training room one day, and as much as he likes you, it takes everything in his power to not roll his eyes
he hated Strange, and he didn’t need another reminder of that Second-Rate Magician, thank you very much
(look, if someone cast you into a void and had you falling endlessly for 30 minutes, you’d be pretty damn salty too)
but... the more Loki catches you practicing your magic, the more he doubts that you trained with Strange
your techniques seemed to him to be much more ancient. less fluid, more unpredictable -- sharper
things really took a turn for the weird when he passed by your room one evening from the kitchen, cup of tea in hand and a book in the other, ready to do nothing more than relax in the safety of his room away from everyone else in the Compound
there was a strange golden light coming from the doorway to your room, and Loki -- the ever-curious god he was -- just had to peer in as he passed by
only to come face to face with his mother
she was the source of the gold light, and Loki just barely caught her flash a brief yet warm smile in his direction before she vanished.
you nearly jumped out of your skin as you heard a loud crash come from behind you, and you whipped around to see Loki staring at you aghast as if he had just seen a ghost
(because, well, technically... he had.)
“Loki, I can explain-”
“Do you think this is funny?”
a dagger may or may not materialize in his hand at this point
“No! Loki please, calm down-”
It takes a while (and a new cup of tea as a peace offering) before the spooked Asgardian finally relaxes
you sit him down on your bed and begin explaining your powers, only to be cut off
“you can raise the dead?”
“well... not exactly... I can summon their energy, not their physical body. I get it from my mom, it’s... a genetic thing.”
you’ve never seen Loki look so confused before, and if it weren’t for the seriousness of the entire situation, you might’ve smiled at his reaction
because he did look quite adorable, the way his mouth gaped open ever-so-slightly and how his brows furrowed together
“I... don’t understand.”
you were hoping to keep your family history a secret in order to avoid unnecessary questions 
as a kid, you had encountered far too many idiots who only wanted to get close to you to get a free trip up to Olympus
but knowing Loki and his relentless nature, you had a feeling you weren’t going to be able to escape this one
so you tell him everything, about how your mom is Hecate and your dad is just an ordinary guy, and -- because Ancient Greek God Genetics are stronger than Normal Human ones -- you inherited your mom’s powers
including but not limited to: illusions, energy blasts, incantations and spells, and necromancy.
but there was a downside to all this: dysfunctional family dynamics
it had been years since you last saw your mom, and you weren’t even sure if she remembered who you were
“How did you know to summon my mother?”
“I didn’t. Frankly, I didn’t even know I could do that. That’s the one skill I’m not great with yet. She just sort of... showed up at the right time I guess.”
Loki goes quiet, and you notice a deep sadness in his eyes as he gazes down at his cup of tea
“She wasn’t here for long,” you say quietly. “But I could feel she really loves you. She’s proud of you, too.”
Loki stares at you somewhat incredulously, and in that moment he looks more like a child than ever before
“Do you think you could summon her again?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I could try?”
Loki decides from that day on to take you under his wing and teach you all he knows in magic
he sees himself in you, the part of you that longs for family, for a place to belong
Loki strives to be that person for you, that safe place to go to when things get tough
things started out rocky between the two of you -- due to the whole Strange-Apprentice-Misconception and all -- but after finding out about your true heritage, the two of you were inseparable
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qslovebot · 3 years
Text
Nobody: Spencer Reid
Summary: After an accident on a case, the reader is left with trauma and anxiety. A miscommunication between her and the person she needs most (Spencer Reid) begins to eat her alive and he just so happens to be the only one there when she breaks again.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Warnings/Includes: mentions of kissing, mentions of traumatizing events (not specified), depictions of anxiety, fluff, miscommunication, angst to fluff
A/N: The song is Nobody by Mitski. Read with this for the ultimate experience.
Sometimes things felt too literal. Words start to sound weird and feel weird when you say them, clothes feel too much like clothes against your skin, the texture of any food in your mouth becomes too prevalent while eating.
These things started happening after you witnessed and endured something awful on a case. You wouldn't dare bring up the full memory in case it took over and killed you all over again. It wasn't PTSD, but it was the cause of your anxiety attacks most of the time when they occurred.
After that case, you spent a week in the hospital where they happened nearly every day and the doctors weren't much help, to be frank. The only people who really ever helped were your friends and the person you were so close to dating, Spencer Reid.
It was a long story. To dumb it down, the case event happened and you and Spencer thought you were about to die so he confessed his feelings for you and of course they were reciprocated. He asked, then and there through stuttering words, 'If we make it out of here please go out with me?" As his last bit of hope, and he kissed you before you were taken away by the unsub. He didn't endure nearly as much as you did which was why he wasn't as affected. But you had said 'yes' to that question and three weeks later, you still hadn't talked about it.
When the anxiety attacks happened, you often felt like you couldn't breathe, like the walls were pressing in on you. Sometimes you'd be with JJ when it happened. She would immediately ask you what you needed and often that would just be a hug.
Emily witnessed one at your house when she came over to check on you. She rushed over, caring voice and soft hands and told you to put your head between your knees, stroking your hair until you felt better.
Penelope made the 30-minute drive from her house every Friday night she wasn't working on a case to bring you dinner she had made and chat with you about anything you wanted.
Your friends cared for you, it was so prevalent. It was almost always that fact that was getting you through this as you continued to get better. You would return to work in two weeks because now the anxiety attacks were only once in a while and better controlled by you and Spencer still hadn't spoken to you since.
It was now nearly two weeks later. You would go back to work on Monday.
"He did come to visit you in the hospital before you woke up," Penelope said, stirring her cup of ramen. It was just another Friday and she sat across from you in your chair, cross-legged. "I don't know what's up with him if he isn't speaking to you, he seems fine at work."
You sighed, swallowing your bite. "I'm just scared that he regrets what he said and did before I was dragged away. It was those words and that kiss that got me through what the unsub did and I keep thinking about it and him..."
"It was romantic," she noted, waving her chopstick in the air. "I think you should call him, rather than just text him. It'll catch him off-guard and in-the-moment."
"Now?"
"Yes, so I can listen!"
You smiled a little, pulling out your phone as your heart began to race. What if he did pick up? What if it was awkward? What if he somehow didn't remember?
You pressed on his name, then pressed call. It began to hum quietly with pending rings. One ring, two, then five, then seven, then there was a small beep.
'You've reached Dr. Spencer Reid, uh, leave a message,' his voice said through the machine, still as sweet and youthfully scratchy. You bit your lip and nodded.
"I should have known that he didn't want to talk. Penelope, I can't stop thinking about him and he keeps ignoring my calls and I'm... frankly I'm afraid that nothing will ever happen and he'll ignore me forever."
Penelope cringed, "(Y/N), uh... there's... it's gone to voicemail and you're recording."
"Shit!" You panicked, looking at your phone. "How do I stop it?!"
"The red button!"
"That's the end call button I-" you pressed it by accident. Oh my god, the message went through. You just sat there with Penelope, both of you frozen in shock. That did not just happen... did it really just happen? Your one moment of self-pity and worry was one moment that Spencer would hear if he touched his phone on a Friday night.
The rest of the night was spent with you fighting off panic, pacing your room. Penelope agreed to stay overnight, but you could not handle the fact Spencer would hear what you said. It was humiliating to think about him hearing you stress over something like that.
This is what nagged at you all weekend, threatening the impending anxiety that was building up. Every second was agony, spent pacing and overthinking. Sleep was hard to get, so you took melatonin and your dreams taunted you with it all over again.
Monday morning you rushed to get dressed. You needed to see Spencer, no matter how hard it was to face him. You pulled on dress pants and a navy blue cotton v-neck shirt with bell sleeves. Laundry was forgotten through two days of panic, so this was pretty much the only shirt you had.
You brushed through your hair and applied your regular makeup and there, you were presentable and didn't look like you'd lost your mind over the weekend. You were going back, finally. It was somewhat refreshing if you dismissed the Spencer ordeal.
The drive there was fine. Music helped to calm you down and you listened as long as you could. Stepping into the BAU was different, it felt like you were being crushed the moment you stepped in.
"There's my girl!" Derek Morgan was the first to notice you walk in and he greeted you with open arms and a crushing hug. You smiled, letting him. It had been a while since you last saw him. He let you go after a few seconds, but his hands stayed on your shoulders. "We missed you here, things weren't as fun without you."
"I bet," you grinned, heading to your desk. You could hide your freakout well. "I missed the smell of coffee and paper in the morning."
"(Y/N), glad to have you back," Hotch said, walking down the steps. He did seem honestly glad to see you as there was a small twitch of his mouth when he approached you and Derek. "You're sure you're alright to work again? I assume today is a file day, but we'll be back out there soon."
You nodded, smiling back. "Getting there, but it's controllable now," He narrowed his eyebrows. "I'll be fine for the field and if I'm not, I can always stay at the precinct to work things out there."
Hotch looked to Derek, then back at you. "Sounds good. Again, glad to have you back, agent." Hotch shook your hand and passed you, heading into JJ's office.
"Morgan..." You started, fiddling with your fingers. "Have you seen Spencer?"
"Yeah, he just went to the washroom, why?"
"I need to talk to him..."
The day went on and of course, you saw Spencer, but he paid you no mind. Not even a 'welcome back' or anything. You were just there and it was like you never left, except Spencer didn't even look at you. He was busy with his work and you constantly found yourself watching him. Maybe he'd heard your voice mail, maybe not, but either way, he didn't seem to care anymore.
That month and a half you spent recovering- was it possible that he used that time away from you to get over you? The idea was haunting and tugged at your heart. To be the only one all-in was such an incredibly painful idea. What he said before you were dragged away into the depths of hell meant something to you and it kept you alive... and to think he probably didn't mean it...
You needed to stop thinking about it before it made you burst into a million pieces. To be surrounded by everyone who you loved and loved you back wasn't enough if you couldn't have Spencer, too. Selfish, it sounded so selfish, but it shook you to the core that he wasn't amongst them.
The day continued and more pain was endured. More overthinking, more fear, more insecurity. The day was nearing its end.
Everybody seemed like nobody when Spencer was out of the picture. You had spent so much time thinking about him in the hospital and at home in recovery, who were you without wondering you could make it work? Nobody. Without the fantasy you could be his, you stranded on some sort of island. You were nobody if not Spencer's.
So you were nobody.
It was that thought that keeled you over the edge in the parking lot of the BAU. So much fear, so much pent-up emotion, it was too much to contain and just... spilled over onto everything as your hands began to shake, followed by that godawful feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your knees gave out and you fell conveniently onto the curb next to your car.
There was nobody there, either. You were alone on the concrete curb, face in your shaking hand and the other shaking hand gripping the curb so hard your knuckles turned white. Too much, too little, everything was wrong and you couldn't face Spencer.
You looked up for a brief moment and there was a brief look at someone in a beige cardigan and khaki pants and your heart fell to the pit of your stomach- as if you were humiliated enough. Footsteps, closer.
"A-are you okay?" His voice was a little panicked, definitely not as bad as yours, though. Overall, you were just glad he was within six feet of you.
Of course, you were pretty much unable to reply. Your face stayed in your hands and you felt light fingers on your shoulder, his, and they were somewhat grounding. God, he was here and you couldn't even talk to him, you couldn't even raise your head.
"What do you need, I- what happened?" He cared. But to what extent? His hands felt frantic- they shook a little (again, not nearly as bad as yours) and they moved from your shoulder, to upper arm, to near your neck, to the side of your head. "If this is my fault, I-"
He stopped himself. How could he possibly know that it was the thought of him that sent this into motion? The voicemail didn't entail much other than he was on your mind. You hardly even noticed that you were crying from the anxiety attack until you felt how wet your hands were. Your words kept piling on your tongue and the panic rose again in an entirely new wave.
"Do you- do you need help? I can get Hotch or... Derek, Derek knows, I know, but I don't- I don't think you like me very much and I won't be of help-I-I-I-" His voice continued to ramble and you were flooded with new thoughts. How could he possibly think that you didn't like him? In those moments before you were taken, you had said yes to going out with him if you both made it out. You kissed him back then before the arms grabbed you and dragged you off. Where did the idea of you not liking him come from? It was you who was afraid he didn't like you back.
You wanted to speak, you wanted to say something but you were stuck in your own mind, desperately trying to fight this off, trying hard to calm your breathing. The most you could do was take your hand off of the curb and frantically grab his. You took his hand and you held it tight, trying to slow the sharp intakes of breath. That's when Spencer squeezed your hand and you began to feel better.
And when you did start to feel better and your breathing was still harsh, but better and you could finally move a little more, you did what you had wanted to do every day in the hospital. You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around Spencer, your arms resting around his shoulders. You needed it and apparently so did he, because he squeezed you back the same. Either it was that or he knew pressure helped. All you could do was hope it wasn't the latter.
Spencer of course buried his face in the crook of your neck like he had before and you knew now that this feeling was coming to an end. The tide was washing out and there was calm after the storm. No words, just your breathing becoming more natural and the wind over your ears. This was all that you needed.
He stayed like this with you for a good five more minutes before you could finally release him, pulling apart and your hand coming up to wipe under your eyes. He didn't speak then, either- he just watched, his face furrowed in concern.
So you spoke, "Spencer wh-" your voice cut out from still being in that state of anxiety. You coughed into your arm, tried again. "Why would you think I don't like you?"
"I-I- don't think that's the question, I- are you okay?" His hands went back to your shoulders bracingly.
You smiled a small smile, "I'm better, it's passed, but Spencer...' You slid into a whisper with the crying coming back. Had it really passed?
"Yes?" His reply was wary. As if afraid to break you, he tiptoed.
"Answer me, please."
He bit his lower lip into his mouth, sighing. "I don't know if I should, you're- you're upset."
You looked at him, dead-on, determined. "Please."
"You didn't call. Not once and I-I-I was worried and then I started to think about it and everything t-that happened before you were taken and that you probably only said and did that because you were about to-to-uh, die." He rambled, words spilling out. "So I thought maybe you didn't really like me and-"
"I was waiting for you to call, too," you actually let out a laugh. He smiled in realization. "Because I was afraid of the exact same thing. I was afraid you didn't mean it and I worked myself up- I called Friday night, though-"
"I didn't- I didn't know that-" he fumbled to bring his phone out of his pocket and he must have seen that he had a voicemail from you and nodded, a little smile appearing on his worried face. "So you did mean to say yes?"
"And you did mean to ask?" You inquired, head tilted.
"Y-yes, of course."
"Then yes," you replied, smile widening to a grin. "How is Saturday night? I think I'll be better by then."
He was positively beaming as he helped you back to your feet. "Saturday is... great. Are you sure you're alright?"
"Much better.... truthfully." You nodded excessively and Spencer began walking back to his car, but then came back quickly to kiss your cheek.
He was like a child excited to go run and tell friends, "Goodnight!"
"Night, Spence." You stood there, basking in the glory that was solved miscommunication. You weren't nobody, you were in fact, somebody. And you were soon to be Spencer's.
Tags: @ellyhotchner, @softhairedhotch, @laurakirsten0502
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pepperonijem · 3 years
Text
Silent Night || Steve Rogers
MASTERLIST
Pairing:  Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: None, just pure Christmas rom-com feels.
Word count: 3.4k
Summary: You need a fake date to bring home for the holidays. Steve is more than willing. (Fake Dating AU)
A/N: Don’t mind me, just overly obsessed with cheesy hallmark Christmas movies and Steven Grant Rogers. It’s my first fic in a very long time, please be nice ok thx bye have a happy holiday!
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‘Twas the night before Christmas break, when all through the apartment complex, not a creature was sleeping, not even a mouse; luggage was packed, without so much as a care, in hopes that they would all soon be out of there. All except one, who wished to stay.
“I can’t believe you told your mom you had a boyfriend,” your roommate, Natasha, laughed. “Actually, I can’t believe your mom believes you have a boyfriend.”
You shot a look at her before tossing a pillow in her direction. “I’m just tired of her getting onto me about being a spinster,” you rolled your eyes as you recalled your mom’s pleading voice over the phone.
“So have you met anyone yet?” 
You couldn’t see her but you just knew how her eyebrows were raised in interest. It had become almost a weekly question, and for a second, you considered just hanging up right then, but then an idea came.
“Actually, I have,” you lied. It was only September, and you weren’t going to see your parents until the holidays, and by then, you could come up with a fake break-up story with your imaginary boyfriend. 
“Really?” you heard your mother squeal in excitement and you almost felt bad. Almost. “Tell me all about him, and make sure you bring him home for Christmas, I want to meet him!”
You couldn’t help but crack a sad smile as you fed your mom fake details about your fake relationship. “We met in class and started studying together and one thing led to another, and now we’re dating.” There. The bare minimum, but enough to keep her satisfied.
The impact of the pillow against your face snapped you out of your thoughts. “Weren’t you supposed to break up with your fake boyfriend before break?” She questioned. “What happened to that?”
Plopping down beside her on the couch, you sighed and hugged the pillow to your face. Natasha pulled the pillow away and you gave her a dirty look. “You know my mom,” you began. “I just didn’t want to disappoint her. I thought I would be able to find another excuse as to why he couldn’t make it to Christmas, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer after he missed Thanksgiving.” You turned to give Natasha a pleading look. “What do I do?” you asked.
“Well, I still think you oughta tell her,” Natasha admitted. “Or, you could bring home a fake boyfriend.” 
Immediately, you shot up and gave her a puzzled look. “What do you mean a fake boyfriend?”
“A blow up doll,” she rolled her eyes. “No, obviously you just get someone to pretend to be your boyfriend and then they pretend to break up with you, and you pretend to be sad, and then that’s it. Easy peasy.” Natasha shrugged her shoulders and stood up to pick up her phone from the kitchen counter as if what she suggested was a simple idea. You could hear her furiously typing in the keyboard as she walked away from you.
“Nat, you’ve officially gone bonkers.” However, the longer you thought about it, the more desperate you became. “How would I even find anyone? Everyone’s packing to go home. And on top of that, who would even be willing to pretend to be my boyfriend? They’d have to be really dumb, or really bored to agree.”
“Sure, I’m in.” 
“Excuse me?” you asked incredulously.
“I said I’m in,” he repeated with a shrug of his shoulders.
A few minutes after Natasha suggested her idea, you heard a knock at your door. Natasha gave you a mischievous smirk as she opened the door and welcomed in the boy you’d been crushing on all semester. Steve was best friends with Natasha and her boyfriend and although you had hung out with them a few times, you always found yourself getting nervous around him.  He was never anything but kind to you, always making sure you were included in the conversation and taking time to include you in the inside jokes. 
Of course, Natasha knew about your crush and every so often would try to drop not so subtle hints to Steve. One time, Natasha and Bucky told you and Steve that the plan was to have dinner at 6:30 p.m. but didn’t show up until nearly 8. It was obvious that they were trying to set you up, but Steve never made a move and you didn’t want to be presumptuous, but at least he never made it awkward either. You knew Natasha was reeling inside at how perfectly things were falling into place. 
“But why?” You asked, still unable to process what Steve was agreeing to.
“Oh does it matter?” Natasha asked with an eye roll. “You said you needed a boyfriend, and Steve volunteered. It’s perfect!” She took Steve’s hand and led him to the couch where you were sitting on and pushed him to sit beside you. He offered a sheepish smile and left enough distance between you two to be polite.
“Well,” Steve began, turning to face you. “Bucky’s going over to Nat’s over the holiday, and my folks are out of town, so I was just planning to stay on campus for the break.” Natasha coughed and gave Steve a look that you didn’t quite understand. Steve stuttered before adding, “But Natasha mentioned that you needed a boyfriend -- a fake boyfriend -- and I couldn’t leave you in need.” Steve looked down at his hands and back up at you. There was an unmistakable twinkle in his ocean blue eyes and for a second, you let yourself get lost in the idea of what it would be like to hold his hand in the December cold. Natasha rolled her eyes and filled the spot between the two of you. 
“You two are hopeless.” She sighed, but a small smile still played on her lips. “Anyway, I’ve got it all planned out.” She turned to you first. “Since you never told your parents what your imaginary boyfriend’s name is, and every detail you’ve fed your mom is vague as hell, you can just fill in the blanks with Steve.” 
Standing up, she pointed at Steve. “Okay, Rogers, your job is just to make the parents believe that you are absolutely head over heels for their kid.”
“Easy.” Steve said instantly and you caught him glance in your direction with a smile before turning back to Nat. You felt your cheeks heat up and you sank further back into the couch.
“The important thing is to keep your stories straight, and remember, the most believable lies are based on truth,” Natasha ended. She looked down at her watch. “Alright, Bucky’s waiting down in the lobby, and we need to go so we don’t miss our flight.” She pulled you and Steve in for a hug before heading to the door where her luggage was waiting. “You two have a very happy holiday. See you in the new year!” 
As Steve shut the door behind Natasha, you found yourself feeling the butterflies that were hidden by the adrenaline from earlier. Steve turned to face you and gave you a comforting smile. “Look,” he began. “I just wanna be the best fake date you’ve ever had,” he joked.
“Well, you’re the only fake date I’ve ever had,” you laughed. Steve chuckled and you felt yourself grin. “Thanks, Steve, for doing this. You really don’t have to.” You looked down at your fidgeting fingers as you felt his gaze fall on you.
“I know,” he said softly. “I wanted to.”
The rest of the evening was spent planning. You put on the Charlie Brown Christmas special and ordered a pizza and began discussing every detail. You tried to think like your parents, wanting to have an answer for every single question they could ask. When was Steve’s birthday? What was your first date like? What’s your favorite pizza topping? Where did Steve grow up? It was like you were studying for an exam, except the longer you talked, the more you found yourself getting lost in the stories he told of Brooklyn, of his and Bucky’s teenage shenanigans, and it was all easy. 
Three movies and a box of pepperoni pizza later, the two of you had settled onto the couch, still trying to think of any other possible stories to tell before you quickly drifted off into a tired slumber. The last thing you remember was Steve’s voice and his arm wrapping around you.
When you woke up it was to the sound of your phone ringing. You sat up to find yourself wrapped in a blanket. You scanned around the living room as you recalled the events of last night and found no trace of the empty pizza box and paper plates or the mugs of hot chocolate you and Steve went through last night. Warmth rose to your cheeks when you remembered that you fell asleep on him, and fell into a small panic when you realized it was him calling.
“Hello?” You answered with a yawn.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Steve answered. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.
You smiled into the phone. “Yes, I did. Thank you for cleaning up, you didn’t have to --”
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart, I didn’t mind.” Sweetheart. He called you sweetheart as if it was the most natural thing to do. “Sorry, we never discussed nicknames, but it just came out,” he quickly added. “I just picked up some coffee, and I’ll be there in 15 to help you pack or anything before we go.”
“Alright, I’ll see you in a bit,” you hung up. You got yourself ready and answered the door for Steve. He handed you your coffee, two sugars, no cream, just the way you like it and you smiled as the scent of strong coffee hit your nose. Once you had everything packed, Steve grabbed your bag and the two of you made your way to his car and drove to your hometown. The drive was a few hours long, but Steve had a solid playlist full of karaoke songs that you loved, and the drive felt like it was not long enough.
The wreath on your parents’ door filled you with a sense of nostalgia. Or maybe it was nervousness? Butterflies? Whatever it was, the feeling settled heavily in your stomach as you rang the bell. You looked up at Steve, whose scarf was bundled tight around his neck, and his nose red from the cold, and he gave you an encouraging smile. “You ready?” he asked. 
Before you could answer, the door swung open and you and Steve were enveloped in a tight embrace as your mother squealed in happiness. The holidays had begun, and there was no backing out now.
The first few days of the trip had gone by without a hitch, much to you and Steve’s surprise. Your parents did their best to embarrass you with silly stories about your childhood, and while at first you were filled with dread, the lopsided smile he gave you after finding out you once dressed as a McDonald’s Happy Meal box for Halloween made it worth it. Your dad asked the hard questions, asking what Steve’s plans for the future with you looked like and you found your hands fidgeting under the table before Steve’s hand found yours with a squeeze and told your dad that he couldn’t see a future without you in it and you began to picture what that would look like.
Everything was easy with Steve, in a way that it never was. You’d wake up in the morning and head downstairs to find him already awake and laughing with your mom and dad with a coffee waiting for you. After dinner you knew you’d find him sitting by the fire with a book in his hands. As you walked around town you’d spot things in the windows, little tchotchkes that made you think of him. Steve was growing roots in your family and it was as if he was meant to be there, another picture in the family scrapbook, another stocking hung on the fireplace.
Sweetheart became more common. And soon, so did darling and honey. They began to bleed into the quiet moments when you were alone, where you weren’t supposed to be pretending anymore. The soft smiles, the way his hand reached for yours without a single glance, the warmth of his arms wrapped around you. All of a sudden it didn’t feel like you were playing pretend anymore and you wondered if he noticed it too.
It was when you realized how easy it was to be with him that you realized how hard it would be to let him go. The thought of an inevitable end to your not-so-fake-anymore relationship weighed upon you like a blanket of snow, cold enough to snap you out of your fantasy. You were sitting by the tree with Steve the night of Christmas Eve, wrapping some last minute gifts for your family when you felt it.
The end was coming.
Steve must have felt it too, or felt something was off, because he reached for your hand almost instinctively. You hesitated before slipping your hand in his and when you looked up, you met his eyes. Just over a week ago, his eyes were just blue. But now, you realized, there was a storminess hiding in the blues of his eyes, like there was lightning behind his irises, but an ever-present stillness to them too. In this moment, there was concern mixed into the grays and blues, and your stomach lurched in a desire to forget your realization, to relax back into the rhythm and rightness of pretend, but Steve deserved more than a fake relationship and you owed it to him.
“Sweetheart,” he began. “What’s wrong?” The plea in his voice made it obvious that he suspected what was wrong. He was only asking to give you a chance to tell him that his suspicions were wrong. A last chance to abort and keep the charade going.
Pulling your hand out of his was the hardest thing you’ve had to do, and the instant chill on your skin where his calloused hand was touching was impossible to ignore. “This,” you muttered, unable to meet his eyes. “Steve, we can’t keep pretending like this, not when I have real feelings for you.” You finally looked up at him and kept going. You wouldn’t be able to finish if he interrupted, and you needed to be heard. “I can’t tie you down to a fake relationship, when you deserve to be with someone you actually are in love with. You’re an amazing friend for even agreeing to do this, but I don’t want to force you to be part of a mess that I put myself into.” You stood up, and finally added, “You can go home tonight. I’ll tell my parents the truth in the morning, you don’t have to worry about it.” 
“Hold on, I--” you interrupted him with a final, lingering kiss, hoping that the memory of it would be enough for you. You felt the hesitation in his fingers as he reached up to cup your face, trying to keep you where you were, before you pulled away.
Without looking back, you turned around and walked up the stairs, trying to convince the tremble in your fingers and the pounding in your heart that you made the right choice.
The next morning you woke up and for a few seconds, you laid in peace until the regrets of last night flooded over you. You dragged yourself up off your bed, trying to cheer yourself up by remembering that it was Christmas. Part of you hoped that you would see him downstairs, talking to your mom about her favorite cookie recipe, but when you walked into the kitchen and found your mom by herself, you knew he was really gone.
“Hey honey,” your mom exclaimed, wrapping you in a tight hug that suggested she knew something was wrong. “Merry Christmas” she said into your hair. After a moment, she finally let go and the tears that were threatening to spill over finally gave way and your mom reached out to brush them away. She pulled you back into her arms, and once you managed to steady your breathing, the two of you sat down.
“I heard you and Steve talking last night,” she admitted. You let out a strangled sob and your mom reached out to rub your back. “Honey, you could have just told me the truth. I love you, and you don’t need a relationship to validate that.” She gave you a small smile. “But when I saw the way you looked at each other, well I have to admit, it was nice to know someone would be here to keep loving you long after I’m gone.”
You set your head down against the table. “Well too bad Steve was only pretending to love me,” you sighed. “He deserves to love someone for real. I couldn’t hold him back from that. It was unfair.”
“Pretending?” She asked incredulously. “Sweetie, listen to me. That sweet boy was head over heels for you, and anyone could see it. The way he looked at you everytime you laughed, and every time he walked in a room and he always looked for you first, no one could fake being as in love as he clearly is with you.”
Finally lifting your head up, you wiped your tears with your sleeve. Maybe those moments you thought you were imagining were really there. Maybe he wasn’t pretending. Maybe you were an idiot for walking away from you last night. You stood up, ready to find him and apologize. 
Feeling a rush of frenzy and determination, you ran upstairs to grab your keys and your coat, ready to ask your mom to drive you back to school so you can find him. Your heart was pounding in your ears and as you turned the knob to open your front door, you found yourself staring into a pair of stormy blue eyes.
“Steve?” your voice came out in a whisper. His hand was frozen mid-air, about to press the doorbell.
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sorry, were you heading out?” he asked.
You snapped yourself out of the trance you were lost in. “Uh Y-yeah, I was on my way to see you, actually,” you admitted. You stepped out of the doorway to let him in and you both stood in the kitchen. He set the bag he was holding on the counter and he opened the box.
“Donut? The only donut shop open was like 30 minutes away,” he offered, smiling as if you didn’t just try to break his heart last night. He handed you one, a chocolate with sprinkles, your favorite, before pulling out one for himself and taking a bite. He motioned for you to sit with him and you followed. “Listen, I--”
“Steve, I’m --” you both started at the same time. “You go first,” you allowed.
He nodded before continuing. “I know last night, you asked me to leave, but I couldn’t. At least not without telling you how I feel. You told me that you had real feelings for me, and I do too. Hell, I’ve had real feelings for you. Long before these last two weeks. When Nat texted me that night, I knew I finally had the perfect opportunity to tell you how I felt, but when we got here, everything just felt so… so real, and I let myself forget that it wasn’t. At least not yet. No matter how much I wanted it to be.”
You set down your donut, suddenly feeling that hunger was the least important thing you were feeling at this moment. Not wanting to interrupt, you simply nodded as he continued.
“I should’ve told you a long time ago, that I really, really, really, like you. None of this has been pretend for me.” He looked into your eyes, pleading, as he tentatively reached for your hand. “I want to do this the right way, no games, no schemes, just you and me. The real thing.”
The storm in his eyes seemed to make way for light, and the bright blues that disappeared behind his eyelids were the last thing you noticed before you felt your lips fall onto his. His hand reached up and you felt the pad of his thumb brush against your cheek. Gently, as though any more pressure and you would crumble like snow. You pulled away with a sigh, Steve’s lips chasing after yours.
“Merry Christmas,” you breathed out.
“Merry Christmas.”
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The Beach - a The Rookie/Chenford Fanfic
“7-Adam-11, show us responding,” Jackson said over the radio as Lucy leaned back against her headrest defeatedly.
“I didn’t think I’d ever say this but I really don’t want to go to the beach.” “Like ever again,” she added even as she took the first turn towards their destination. 
LA was 4 days into a record heat wave and over that time Lucy had learnt a few important things 1) Unsurprisingly, extreme heat causes everyone to flock to the ocean. 2) It also makes people extremely irritable. 3) Lots of irritable people packed together in large groups leads to chaos and 4) wool uniforms are not ideal attire for patrolling beaches in temperatures around 100. 
So after 4 days she was over it. She had spent Monday with Jackson getting sworn at, honked at and nearly run over as they directed traffic at the busiest beaches in the city. She spent Tuesday with Tim breaking up beach brawls, confiscating contributing alcohol and watching bikini clad woman flirt with Tim. At least 8 different woman had asked him to rub sunscreen on them or suggested he take off his shirt to cool down. She had rolled her eyes so much she had given herself a headache. Although it may have been the sun. Yesterday, her and Nolan and responded to a report of a missing child who was feared drowned or kidnapped but turned out had followed the music of an ice cream truck four blocks and was found, about 30 minutes after the officers arrived, happily eating a fudgiscle. However, they were kept at the beach for the remainder of their shift by various citizens with complaints ranging from seagulls, wasps and possible sharks to thieves, streakers and possible melanoma. 
Now her and Jackson were headed back to a beach where the adjacent shrubbery was currently being consumed by a blazing bush fire, which was in all likelihood human caused and spreading fast. Therefore all hands were on deck as the LAPD worked with the LAFD to keep civilians safe, extinguish the fire and investigate its cause.
The rest of her shift passed in a blur as they interviewed witnesses, cordoned off the area, issued evacuation orders, ensured those who needed it got medical attention, joined a production line passing large buckets of water from the ocean to where the fire was burning and debriefed with their team which included Nolan and Tim, and Lopez and Harper. Luckily in the end, the fire was successfully extinguished, those living nearby were safe and happily back in their homes and the perpetrator, a cigarette butt flicker, was caught. But not until nearly 11pm by which time the entire team was exhausted, scorching and covered in soot and ash. With their job done the team of 6 headed away from the scene back along the beach to where they had parked their shops. They were right on the sand where they left them to create a barrier preventing people from wandering toward the fire and the beach around them was abandoned. Likely due to a combination of the late hour, the fire itself and the fact that the stretch of beach they were on was only accessible by walking about a mile from one of the main beaches on either side or by scrambling down the steep cliff behind them.
“Anybody want a cold one,” Nolan asked when they reached the vehicles, “well a hot one I guess” he amended as he pulled out a six pack he had confiscated earlier in the day from the trunk of his shop. Everybody made a face at the offer of hot beer but since the only light around came from the shops headlights shining in the opposite direction Nolan didn’t see them.
“Screw it, I’ll take one,” Angela said.
“Wesley and Patrice took the baby to meet the extended Evers clan so I have nowhere to be and now that I’m no longer breastfeeding I can have whatever I want. Even if that’s gross beer that’s been sitting in a hot car all day,” she explained.
“If we dig a hole near the water line it will fill with cold seawater and we can make a makeshift beer fridge,” Jackson suggested but Angela had already opened her can and was sipping away.
“I’ll help dig the hole,” Nyla offered. “I’d rather hangout here then go back to the station to do paperwork and Lila’s with her dad so I also have no where I have to be.”
“I’ll call Grey and tell him we’re clocking out and will do the paperwork in the morning,” Tim offered.
“Your staying?” Lucy asked a little too excitedly, “what about Kojo?” she quickly added.
“Tamara called several hours ago and offered to give him dinner, take him for a walk and put him to bed.”“She saw the fire on the news and rightly assumed we’d have our hands full,” he finished.
30 minutes later they all sat in the sand around their makeshift beer fridge. Shoes, socks and button up shirts discarded and pants pulled up to their knees. 3 flashlights were in the middle of the group, pointing skyward, their handles buried in the sand. They laughed as they went around and told stories.
“How is it still this hot?” Lucy asked a while later.  It was after midnight and the temperature had yet to even consider dropping below 90. 
She pulled her white t-shirt away from her skin fanning, herself. 
“I’m going swimming,” she declared ready to stand up.
“Your going swimming? Right Now? In that?” Tim asked gesturing to her cotton tee and woolen pants.
Lucy shook her head. “I was just going to go in my underwear but now that I think about it I don’t really want to have to drive back to the station in soaking wet underwear.”
Tim nodded as if this is what he expected but Lucy didn’t see him and continued.
“I guess I’ll just skinny dip,” she concluded.
Tim managed to both spit out and choke on the sip of beer he had just taken.
Everybody else’s faces were turned towards Tim and wearing amused expressions but they were saved his annoyance due to the limited light and the fact that his attention was still fully on Lucy.
“What?” She asked Tim, “It’s not a big deal. It’s dark. Plus everybody here has already seen me naked.” 
“Well except you,” she added, which earned another spit take from Tim.
Lucy rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. She loved seeing Tim flustered, especially when it was her doing.
“What?” He finally managed to ask in a strained voice after a few harsh coughs to clear his throat.
“Everybody here’s seen Lucy naked but you,” Lopez offered, “although that was bound to change sometime soon,” she added.
Lucy and Tim both turned to look at her wide eyed. Nolan and Nyla were both hiding smirks and Jackson wore an expression of mainly panic as he spoke.
“She’s drunk. She has no idea what she’s saying,” Jackson offered before turning to look daggers at Angela and whisper something in her ear.
Lucy thought she heard the words bet, interference and disqualified but she couldn’t be sure.
When he finished Angela addressed them again. “Sorry, apparently my tolerance took a nose dive since pre-pregnancy. I didn’t mean anything by that I got you mixed up with Smitty and what’s her face,” she finished waving her hand disparagingly.
“Hmm,” Lucy said clearly not buying her lame excuse but Tim still had his mind on other things.
“Why has everybody else here seen you naked?” he asked, his tone almost suspicious.
Lucy laughed. “Are you jealous?”
He fixed her with his best TO look. “No.”
Lucy suppressed the urge to roll her eyes yet again and answered.
“Communal showers at work,” she began gesturing to Nyla and Angela. “Best friends and roommates” she added pointing to Jackson. “Life gets crazy. Sometimes closing doors or throwing on clothes just isn’t a priority,” she explained seeing Tim’s confused expression. “Also we had to help each other into and out of the bath after we were injured.” She didn’t have to specify her kidnapping or the beating Jackson took to take down Doug Stanton. This group knew. “It’s kind of ironic that when everything hurts all you want is a warm bath but when everything hurts it’s nearly impossible to get yourself into and out of a bathtub,” she finishes. “Oh and Nolan and I used to date.” She says it as almost an afterthought, super casual. But all the former TOs still look at her with shock.
“You and Nolan?” Nyla asks with a laugh. “Really?” “No offense,” she adds addressing Nolan.
“Ah, none taken?” Nolan replies, clearly confused by her reaction.
“When?” Lopez asks looking between the two P2s.
“For a couple months while we were in the academy. We called it off shortly after we started at Mid-Wilshire,” Nolan supplied.
“Wow, I just can’t picture it,” Angela continued shaking her head.
“Why would you want to picture it?” Tim spat. Then seemed to catch himself and schooled his scowl back into a blank expression.
“Why’d you call it off, anyway?” Angela asked. Half actually curious. Half just trying to do her friend a solid and take the attention off him.
“Bishop warned me that dating a fellow cop would brand me and could ruin my career,” Lucy answered and thought she saw Tim flinch. It was impossible to tell for sure with just the flashlights, nevertheless she added, “Somethings matter more-“ she was staring right at Tim now “-are worth the gossip, the assumptions, the risk.” As she said it she saw his expression change but she couldn’t read it. “But our relationship wasn’t one of those things. We’re better as friends, anyway,” she finished addressing the whole group but looking at Nolan specifically for confirmation.
“Agreed,” Nolan nodded holding up his beer.
“To friends,” Jackson said clicking his to Nolan’s.
“To friends,” everybody joined in clinking their cans together.
“So who’s coming skinny dipping with me?” Lucy asked as she started to make her way back to the vehicles where she could leave her clothes in a place where they’d stay sand free.
“I will,” said Angela, “pregnancy and caring for a baby really makes modesty go out the window. The two beers I’ve had don’t hurt either.” She began to follow Lucy to the cars.
“I’m in,” Jackson offered, “with you two practically glowing in the dark nobody will even notice me.” He teased as he got up to join them, earning a playful shove from Lucy.
“Nobody’s here to see anything anyway.” She retorted.
“Go ahead. I might join you later.” Nolan said and Nyla and Tim nodded in agreement.
10 minutes later. Lucy, Angela and Jackson’s clothes were inside Jackson and Lucy’s shop and they were out in the ocean. It dropped off quickly so they weren’t that far away from the beach even though the water came to just below Lucy’s shoulders. After four days of blazing heat and the fire on top today, the cool water felt like heaven to her. She dipped and dove through the water, relishing the cool and wiped at her face and hands to remove the soot that had coated them earlier. Beside her Angela was trying to show Jackson what her son does when they put him in the water. This led to reminiscing about childhood summers spent at the beach or in backyard and community pools. And before they knew it they were playing old games from those days. John and Nyla had joined them by this time. Claiming some combination of escaping the heat, joining the fun and more beer as the motivation. They were currently having breath holding contests.
“I win!” Jackson exclaimed as he came up for air to find everyone else already up.
“You cheated,” Lucy argued, “I saw you come up while I was still under. I had my eyes open.”
“I did not. Plus it’s pitch black under there you couldn’t possibly have seen anything.”
“Did Jackson come up?” Lucy yelled at Tim who was still sitting on the shore.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t watching,” he replied casually with a slight shrug.
“Yes you were,” Angela argued, “you haven’t taken your eyes off Lucy since she got in here,” then realizing what she said she quickly ducked back under the water. 
Everybody still above the surface froze.
Then after a beat. “So did he come up or not. I need to know if I won,” Nyla asked, all business.
“He floated to the surface but didn’t lift his head up. He won,” Tim offered defeatedly.
“Told you!” Jackson bragged.
“Rematch. 3,2,1 go,” shouted Nyla as everybody ducked back under the water. Lucy a split second behind everybody else as her attention was still on Tim. 
She came up about 30 seconds later just as a wave was passing by her and managed to swallow a good serving of water. She coughed and sputtered but before she knew it Jackson and Nolan were beside her and she was assuring them she was Ok just needed a bit of time to catch her breath. As she swam towards the shore to rest in the shallows she noticed Tim was just sitting back down and his pants were wet to just above the knee. But she didn’t let herself focus on it.
She swam to just in front of where he sat laying on her stomach on the ocean floor, head just above the water.
“You OK?” He asked shifting his eyes to her for the first time since she swam up.
“Ya fine, just swallowed a little water,” she assured him.
“Looks like you guys are having fun out there,” he nodded indicating the group still farther out.
“Ya the water feels amazing. You can’t honestly tell me that you aren’t hot.” She had meant it literally. He was sitting in above 90 degree weather with wool pants on. But then she realized he had taken off his white shirt and his muscled chest and stomach were currently on full display and the word took on an entirely different meaning. She was thankful for the darkness as it hid her blush but even that couldn’t hide the fact that she was definitely staring. 
“The ladies on the beach the other day will be so disappointed they’re missing this,” she teased gesturing to his bare upper half, hoping to give a probable explanation for the staring.
He gave a short laugh. “Not as disappointed as the meat bags who were wolf whistling at you will be that they’re missing that.” As he gestured at her he finally let himself actually take her in. Her hair was still up in its low work bun leaving her entire back exposed. The upper half of which was completely taken up by a tattoo, he had never seen before, although the light was too limited for him to make out the design. The rest of her body was hidden in shadows except her face which was now free of soot and make-up making her look young and vulnerable. Freckles brought out by the last few days of blazing sun were speckled across the bridge of her nose. Her mouth was twisted in thought and her eyes sparkled in the light of the flashlights. She really was beautiful.
While those thoughts flew through Tim’s mind Lucy was thinking about his comment about the wolf whistlers. That had happened at the very start of their shift and lasted no more than two seconds. Lucy wasn’t even sure they had been whistling at her and she had completely forgotten about it until Tim brought it up just now. Funny that he would remember. 
 They were both pulled out of their thoughts by a sudden commotion further out in the water:
“DID YOU NOT THERE IS NO PIE!”
“DO NOT THERE IS NO DIE!”
“DO OR DO NOT THERE IS NO TRY!”
Were being yelled over each other.
“What are they doing?” Tim asked looking at the group out in the water.
They were in a circle. Jackson had just given Nolan a high five then they were under again.
“I think they are playing the guess what I said under the water game,” Lucy chuckled.
Tim was about to reply but he was cut off by “How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood” being shouted in unison followed by bickering about who said it first.
“I’m going back out to join them. You going to come?” Lucy asked turning her attention from the group back to Tim.
“I don’t need to be a part of that.”
“Come on Tim. You’re hot and dirty.” She still meant it literally. Really. He was covered in soot. Stupid double entendres.
He raised is eyebrows.
“Just get in the water,” Lucy said splashing water at him to vent her frustration with how flustered she was getting.
He wiped the water from his face and a small smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “Fine.”
Lucy beamed back at him as he stood up and walked back to the shop to discard his remaining clothes then turned her attention back to her friends.
“It’s not Angeles Direct, you’ve already guessed that three times,” Nyla was saying to Jackson
“That’s what it sounds like,” he argued “and it’s definitely closer to that than ‘embroidery period.’”
“That was my first guess. I heard wrong,” Nyla shot back.
“Oh ya cuz ‘and was dressed’ and ‘indoors divest’ were so much closer.”
Any further argument was cut-off by Nolan. “I’ve got it: Angela’s the best,” he said confidently.
“Yes and yes,” Angela confirmed.
“Your turn Nyla.” 
There was a brief silence as they all went back under the water followed by a flurry of screamed “this is stupid.”
“Happy now?” Came a quieter voice beside her and Lucy nearly jumped out of the water. She had been so wrapped up watching her friends she hadn’t even noticed that Tim had made his way back down the beach and was now sitting beside her in the water.
She smiled and nodded. “Aren’t you?”
He gave a non-committal shrug. “We’ll see after I get roped into whatever’s going on out there,” he offered but there was no bite to it. He was even smiling, although mostly with his eyes, as he looked at their friends.
“Well let’s go find out,” Lucy replied as she led the way into the deeper water.
As they approached the group they watched them go up and down and listened to their guesses.
“And further than game”
“Comforters at game”
“Temperatures endgame”
“Stanford is endgame”
“Checkers is a game.” “At least that’s a real sentence”
“Bradford has game?” “That can’t be right he most definitely doesn’t”
Then just as Tim and Lucy joined the group “Chenford is endgame!” Shouted by Angela who upon realizing Tim and Lucy had joined them turned to Jackson.
“This ones not on me it was your sentence.”
Jackson stood stunned for a second looking desperately between Tim, Lucy and Angela then swiftly closed his eyes and yelled “MARCO.”
There was a brief silence then Nolan yelled “POLO” and everyone was swimming away from Jackson at top speed. Everyone except Tim who was giving Lucy a look that said. “See what you got me into? I told you so.” 
But she was busy swimming off with the others, grateful for the distraction. So he rolled his eyes and joined the game. The water did feel amazing although he wasn’t about to admit that to her.
Calls of MARCO POLO and laughter filled the air as everybody took their turn being it: Jackson tagged Nolan who tagged Lucy who tagged Nyla who tagged Jackson who tagged Tim who tagged Nolan who tagged Angela who tagged Jackson who tagged Tim who tagged Lucy. Well he meant to tag Lucy. He reached his arm out and jumped towards her “POLO” but she was closer than he thought and instead of the tips of his finger tagging her shoulder he jumped right into her. He hit her hard and she responded to being knocked off her feet and down into the water instinctively by reaching for the nearest thing to prevent drowning, which happened to be him. So when he opened his eyes her arms were around his neck and her legs around his hips and her face was only about an inch from his own as she coughed up water for the second time that day.
“Are you ok?” He asked moving a piece of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear.
She nodded but continued to cough as he absentmindedly stroked her back.
 “You caught me by surprise,” she breathed “I didn’t know we were playing full contact Marco Polo.”
He let out a relieved laugh, “I’m sorry.”
“A real Tim Bradford apology I never thought I’d see it in person,” Lucy teased earning an eye roll from Tim. This close Lucy could see all the different shades of blue in his eyes even in the dark. 
“It was an accident.”
“So it wasn’t some sort of Tim Test to see how I would handle a fight in the water?”
“No. You got your last Tim test a year ago when you stopped being my rookie.”
“I can’t believe it’s been a year already,” she said. “Then again we’ve been through enough for an entire career,” she added as her hand reflexively moved from his neck where it was playing with his hair to the tattoo on her her ribs.
That’s when it dawned on her just how close her and Tim were, pressed together without a shred of clothing between them. She had felt so comfortable and content she hadn’t realized the gravity of the situation and what it could lead to. She was about to put some space between them when his hand covered hers over the tattoo marking her supposed day of death. The day he saved her from being buried alive. Although he would say it marked the first day of the rest of her life. The day she saved herself. 
And the desire to move away died in an instant. 
“I kept it,” she said quietly, “because of what you said.” “Because it’s a reminder that I’m a survivor. And that my team will always have my back.”
Tim was looking at her with an expression more open than she’d ever seen. “I have one of those,” he replied softly lifting her hand up and moving it to rest on his lower left abdomen. She was confused at first but as she felt the skin beneath her finger tips she realized it was scarred. The scar from when he was shot on her second day and she pulled him out of the line of gunfire.
She smiled and looked directly into his eyes. 
“It’s a good thing we have each other in our lives,”
“Sure is,”
She was just about to lean in and close the distance between them when a voice interrupted.
“Hey you two. Keep it PG or get a room. This is a family outing.” It was Nyla.
Lucy laughed as she untangled her self from Tim and in that moment she realized two things. 1) this was most definitely her family and 2) she would very happily come back to the beach. Maybe next time she’d just bring Tim, maybe even as her boyfriend.
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nevertheless-moving · 3 years
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Suicidal Misunderstanding IX
Star Wars Time Travel AU #27
Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV  - - - Part V - - - - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII
Content Warning: This chapter contains potentially triggering material, particularly aftermath of attempted suicide as well as discussions of bodily injury.
Cody woke up the morning after the...drunken keldabe still feeling uneasy. He spent half an hour attempting to read over reports in preparation for the Umbaran campaign before giving it up as a lost cause. He distracted himself for a little while by pouring over last night’s cantina surveillance, before giving up on that as well and sending a message to General Skywalker.
‘Any updates on General Kenobi’s status?’
He watched the comms as communications from everyone besides the General trickled in. He answered a few requests for requisitions, forwarded some medical reports, and ignored an irritating handful of overly-personal questions. 
Agonizing over it the whole time, he opened a comm-text link to Obi-Wan. It took nearly an hour, but he managed to send two sentences. ‘Hope you’re recovering well. Look forward to upcoming mission discussion.’
He immediately wanted to retroactively delete the message, mortified by every word and deeply concerned at every second that passed without a reply.
He spent the next 30 minutes hunched over, quickly closing every incoming CT and CC communication, justifying the time to himself as ‘technically on leave.’
He lurched forward when he finally received a General’s comm code, but slumped in disappointment when it was Skywalker, not Kenobi.
‘Not as drunk but still seems a little high. He says he wasn’t drugged. He’s taking the rest of the day off. I’m monitoring.’
Taking the rest of the day off. Did that mean he wasn’t carrying around his comm? Kriff. Should he more or less concerned that the general was actually taking a day off?
He decided to be more concerned.
‘Thank you for the update. Respectfully request information on any changes.’
Hopefully that would encourage Skywalker to keep him informed even if he stopped freaking out over his vod’s behavior.
Stowing the remote comm, he stood up and exited the temporary planet-side office, throwing himself into cleaning up the mess that was nearly 20,000 clone troopers simultaneously attempting to get the most out of a very brief R&R. 
Shortly before mid-day, he received another update from Skywalker.
‘Just managed to get him to medical. Healer cleared him of drug interactions but Obi-Wan’s still acting strange (not crying, but a lot of hugging).’
Cody stared at that for a long while.
‘Any other verbal indications of upcoming danger?’ he finally asked. Skywalker didn’t reply. 
Shortly after nightfall, his incident reports were interrupted by a call from an unknown temple number. He quickly opened it, and a holo of an unfamiliar Mon Calamari female healer appeared in miniature on the desk.
“Commander Cody. Thank you for answering so quickly. Are you somewhere private?” she asked, voice deliberately neutral.
The Commander tensed up. “Yes, sir. I’m in CC office space, alone. The room and the channel are both secure. Is this regarding General Kenobi?”
“Yes.” She replied. “My name is Master Bant Eerin; I’m a temple healer as well as a personal friend of Obi-Wan’s. He’s...he’s in the healing halls right now. We’re still trying to understand exactly what happened- I’ll tell you what I can but first we need to rule out any possible drugs he may have contact with. I need you to describe in detail anything he may have been exposed to that could have possibly had mind-altering effects.”
The Commander was a professional. He swallowed back his fear, his questions, and his demands to know what was going on.
“Of course. Everything on the Negotiator was GAR Standard, and I was with him when we left the ship. We went directly to the lower levels. The first time he was exposed to anyone outside the 212th was when we left our transport on level 3915. I...actually have footage of him the whole time night after that point. I’m sending it over right now, sir.”
“That would be extremely helpful, thank you.” He watched as she pulled it up on a second comm, sound barely audible. 
He continued with his report: “One of the boys took it without permission. He didn’t mean anything by it, he’s just an idiot; I’ve already issued a severe reprimand. In any case, he brought it to me after I issued surveillance on the cantina, it tracks everything the General did- as far as I can tell, he had a glass of house grub wine, two shots of rancor blood, and an unnamed mixed cocktail ‘on the house.’ You can see everything the bartender added- as far as I can tell nothing was slipped in. He just... blacked out suddenly after the fourth drink, and quickly startled awake, confused by his surroundings.”
“I see.” Her tone was still carefully neutral and Cody didn’t know how to read her expression. He waited, wishing he was wearing his bucket so he didn’t have to keep schooling his face into professional patience.
“You brought him back to the temple...correct?” 
“Yes, sir.”
She let out a deep breath, gills fluttering slightly. “We’ll probably have more questions later, but please understand our inquires are entirely based around determining how we can best help Obi-Wan. This call and any future ones are not intended, and should absolutely not be interpreted, as indications of blame. He’s actually spoken to me about you before, I know he has the deepest respect for you, personally and professionally. Someone will likely be assigned to talk to everyone whose spent time with him recently, including myself.”
The sick feeling in his gut from last night returned full force. “I...believe I understand sir. His condition is serious, then?”
Her gills fluttered again.
“Even now, I think we can safely anticipate a full physical recovery. He...there’s no easy way to say this...it appears he attempted to end his own life. Knight Skywalker got to him just in time, and he received bacta within minutes of the initial burn. I...like I said...we’ll began work to figure out why-”
Her voice broke and she stared up, large tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. She hastily wiped them away.
“Rest assured commander, he’s getting the best treatment possible. Thank you for your assistance. I’ll do my best to answer any questions you might have right now. This is my personal comm link- please feel free to reach out to me at any point for updates.”
“I-” Cody cleared his throat. “Can I come to the temple? To...” he trailed off, not sure how to finish.
“Not tonight, I’m sorry. The healers need to focus; he’s not allowed any visitors until he’s out of Bacta, I’m afraid.”
“Skywalker must be throwing a fit at that” Cody remarked numbly.
The healer winced. “Knight Skywalker is currently sedated. He was...injured in the struggle to keep Obi-Wan from further harm. Master Windu witnessed part of it, but we’ll have to wait until its safe to wake him to get the full story. I’ll be notifying Captain Rex of the situation after we finish speaking.”
“I’ll do it.” Cody offered immediately. “Tell me what happened.”
Eerin hesitated. 
“Please, Sir. It will be better coming from me and...if he’s the only other trooper who’s being informed at the moment...”
“Of course,” she said quietly. “We don’t know the full circumstances, but at some point in performing emergency care for Master Kenobi, Knight Skywalker was stabbed in the lower abdomen with a vibroblade. It pierced his large intestine. The blade was pulled out shortly before healers arrived, causing some further damage and blood loss. He’s already finished surgery, and should only need a few hours of Bacta at most. Considering his extraordinary past recovery rates, he’ll likely be out of bed tomorrow and fully healed by the end of the week.”
“General Kenobi wouldn’t...” Cody trailed off again. He was having a hard time putting coherent sentences together.
Bant looked at the ceiling for a moment, seeming to collect her thoughts.
“Psychosis can have many manifestations. Even with- with conventional injuries, people can mistake help for harm. There’s just too much we don’t understand, and only so much we can learn before they wake up. Are you certain you wish to be the one to inform Captain Rex?”
“Yes.” That was about the only thing the Commander was certain of right now. “Is there anyone else in the GAR I should inform of...anything?”
“The military aspect of this isn’t my area of expertise. If there’s someone you trust who can be a support for you, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to tell them in confidence. Some form of what happened is going to get out eventually.” she replied. “Please use your discretion, I suppose. It’s...not really my speciality but I imagine you’ll receive further orders on how much to release to the GAR once Obi-Wan’s stable.”
Right. Discretion. Because Obi-Wan wasn’t just Obi-Wan- he was a high general in charge of nearly 1/3 of the republic’s forces. If word of this got out to the wrong ears it would cause mass panic, maybe even an emboldened separatist advance. It was an insane amount of responsibility for one person, no wonder - he deliberately didn’t finish the thought.
“I’ll comm the Captain immediately. Thank you for the information, General.” he said out loud.
“Feel free to contact me for further updates, and tell Captain Rex he’s welcome to do the same. I’ll message you when its clear to visit the halls.”
“Yes, Sir.” Cody responded, saluting automatically. 
“Take care of yourself, Commander Cody”
The hologram blinked out. Cody sat motionless for several long moment before sweeping his desk off, sending the assorted flimsies and redundant comm-units of various designations to the ground.
He stared at the empty desk, then tapped a button on his wrist comm, opening a private audio channel. “CT-7567, please come in” he said calmly.
“Cody?” came the alarmed reply. “I’m here, what’s going on?” Why did he sound so panicked? He had deliberately used his calmest voice. Oh well.
“Please report immediately to CC Office 12 in Guard Headquarters”
“I’ll be there in 10″
Cody hung up. He stared at the blank wall. He knew something was wrong with how the General said goodbye.
He opened the single desk drawer and dumped the odd wires and coins inside to the floor. Eerin had said burn. That could mean a lot of things, but lightsaber was the most likely. 
Cody puked profusely into the empty drawer. He stared at the vomit for a moment before carefully closing the drawer. He still felt a little sick. He hadn’t even said anything back to the General, he just stood there, frozen. 
He stared vaguely at the wall across, wondering if he was going to puke again.
Rex burst into the room. “Cody! What’s going on?! You- kark, what is that smell?”
“I puked in the desk drawer” Cody explained.
Rex shut the door behind him and slowly walked over. He knelt down next to the desk, gently taking Cody’s hands in this own. “Cody. Vod. Talk to to me.” 
“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”
Rex’s hands tightened over Cody’s compulsively and Cody squeezed back harder. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Rex’s expression.
“Some of ghost company went out for drinks last night. Obi-Wan started acted oddly. We flew towards the temple. He started crying. We got to the temple. He Keldabe kissed me. He told me goodbye. I didn’t say anything back.”
“Oh, vod” Rex whispered. He gently pulled the slack Cody off the chair and onto his lap on the floor. Cody continued mechanically. “I did reports today. Skywalker said he was with him. I left Obi-Wan a message. I don’t think he saw it. He tried to kill himself. Skywalker must have left him alone. He saved him. Obi-Wan stabbed Skywalker.”
Rex froze, still holding on to Cody. 
“The healer called. Asked about drugs. They don’t think its drugs but they had to ask. She said they’re both going to heal completely fine. I have a link if you want to call the healer directly. That’s...it. I have reports to do now.”
Rex held Cody tighter. “Not right now”
“It’s war. People get hurt. People die. I have work to do”
“Not right now,” Rex repeated. “You have the right to be upset. You have the right to grieve. You’re a person, of course you have feelings.”
“Obi-Wan said that.” Cody whispered. Then he started crying. He continued to quietly sob for some time, hurt and bewildered and scared. They sat on the floor together; Rex barely moved, simply held on to his older brother as he fell apart.
Inevitably, Cody’s tears dried up and he pulled away. 
“I don’t know how to clean this,” he said gesturing at that closed drawer. 
“I’ll take care of it. Let’s just get you to bed. There’s CC bunks here, right? 
“Yes but...”
Cody didn’t really like sleeping so isolated, but he also couldn’t imagine facing the 212th right now. 
“I’ll stay here with you. We’ll go to the temple together in the morning.”
Rex shepherded Cody to the fresher. He stared at the mirror with a vague sense of recognition before automatically moving through a standard sanitation routine. By the time he finished, Rex had joined him in his room.
“What did you do with the vomit?” Cody asked, suddenly exhausted. They slipped into bed together.
“Swapped the whole desk with Pond’s. That bastard knows what he did.”
Cody let out a snort. Then, much to his surprise, he sank heavily into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Part X
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no body, no crime - allison argent x reader
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Summary: When y/n disappears after confronting her husband about his affair, Allison takes matters into her own hands. Based on “no body, no crime (feat. HAIM)” by taylor swift [x]. You can find the mood board for this fic here
Word Count: 4.4k
Warnings: cursing, infidelity, implied kidnapping, implied murder, murder, alleged murder, alleged/implied death of reader, reader is married to a man with a j name 🤢
a/n: hi everyone! it’s been a hot minute since i posted a new fic & this is why. i’ve been working on this since late december of 2020, so this is the longest i’ve ever spent on a stand-alone work. i’ll include more gory details about the writing process at the end if you’re interested :)
dedicated to: elle (@demxters) for all of her help and ideas! this fic literally wouldn’t have gotten finished without her, send her some love <3
this is also dedicated to caoimhe (@free-pool-trash​) for not murdering me after i gave her a preview several weeks ago and then just ✨stopped writing✨
master list
Este's a friend of mine
We meet up every Tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine
“Hey!” Allison greeted cheerily as she met y/n at their usual table tucked in the corner of their favorite restaurant. y/n returned the brunette’s smile as she stood up to hug her friend, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Allison saw through y/n’s facade and furrowed her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” she asked as concern spread across her features.
“I think Justin is having an affair,” y/n admitted. The statement dropped like a bomb between the two women, causing Allison to nearly spew the wine in her mouth all over the table. She coughed a few times and drank some water to clear her throat before she composed herself enough to ask questions.
“What happened? Did you see something?” Allison asked hesitantly. Her mind was still reeling from the mere concept of y/n’s husband cheating on her. Sure, Justin had never been Allison’s favorite guy, but it was normal for girls to think that no guy would ever be good enough for their best friend. Right? 
Her husband's acting different and it smells like infidelity
She says, "That ain't my merlot on his mouth"
"That ain't my jewelry on our joint account"
y/n explained what had been going on over the past few weeks. Justin had been acting distant, which wasn’t too abnormal, but when he started coming home from work much later than his shifts ended and disappearing at odd hours of the night, y/n got concerned. The day that she had planned to approach him about everything and ask if anything was wrong, she got a call from her bank while driving home from work.
“Hi Mrs. y/l/n, this is Kathy from the bank. I’m calling to inform you that there have been a few large cash withdrawals from your joint account recently under your husband’s name, as well as a pretty expensive purchase yesterday at the jeweler,” the rest of Kathy’s words sounded muffled to y/n. It was nowhere near her birthday, Valentine’s day, or their anniversary, so y/n didn’t know what he could possibly be spending all their money on.
The next incident came a few days later when both y/n and Justin were home. y/n’s husband was in the shower and his phone buzzed with a new text message alert. Typically, y/n was never the type to snoop on her husband’s phone, but she figured she should check in case it was a work message. At least that’s how she justified it in her head. Justin had saved the sender’s number under the contact name “Spam Risk.” It was clever, y/n had to give him credit for that at least. Upon further inspection, y/n quickly realized that those texts weren’t sent from a telemarketer bot.
6:24 p.m.   I can’t wait to see you tonight, baby - Spam Risk
6:25 p.m.   Don’t keep me waiting too long ;) - Spam Risk
y/n thought the messages were strange, but the picture that followed the messages was definitely what threw y/n for a loop. There, on her husband’s text message thread, was a racy photo of a woman’s body that definitely wasn’t hers. y/n was quite literally stunned to silence as she dropped the phone back down onto the dresser. For the rest of the night, y/n was numb and quiet, not that Justin noticed. Then, like clockwork, he left the house at 11 p.m. with no explanation of where he was going or when he would be back.
By the end of y/n’s story, Allison’s mouth was open so wide she was sure her jaw would hit the table. 
“What are you going to do?” Allison whispered, still in shock. y/n grimaced before clearing her throat and speaking her next words with finality.
No, there ain't no doubt
I think I'm gonna call him out
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Este wasn't there
Tuesday night at Olive Garden at her job or anywhere
“Hi, there should be a reservation for two under Allison Argent or y/n y/l/n for tonight,” Allison greeted warmly as she approached the hostess stand at their go-to girl’s night restaurant.
“Right this way, ma’am,” the hostess said with a smile as she grabbed two menus and led her towards their usual table. Two menus. That must mean that y/n wasn’t there yet? Allison thought it was strange, y/n almost always was the first of the two to arrive. Allison brushed off the thought as she thanked the hostess and sat down. She had intended to look over the menu, but the strangeness of it all wouldn’t leave her mind. y/n was late. She was never late. Allison pulled out her phone to text her best friend, and it then occurred to her that she hadn’t heard from y/n since last week. Allison had been away on a “work” trip with her dad for the past six days and had just gotten back into town. After 30 minutes of sitting at the table alone, half a dozen unanswered text messages, and even more calls sent straight to voicemail, Allison dropped a few bills on the table and left.
As Allison pulled out of the parking lot, she turned on the radio in a futile attempt to drown out some of her racing thoughts. Between songs the radio host took to the mic to make an announcement.
“Hello Beacon Hills, we now interrupt your regularly scheduled listening with an urgent message from the Sheriff's department. Speaking now is Sheriff Noah Stilinski,” the host trailed off before there was a brief crackle as the audio transitioned to the Sheriff’s press briefing. Allison turned up the volume as the Sheriff’s voice carried across the radio.
“Thank you all for attending and tuning in. It is with great displeasure and a heavy heart that I inform you all that y/n y/l/n has been reported missing. Shortly after 8 a.m. this morning, we were informed by her husband that she didn’t show up for work yesterday morning and also didn’t come home last night,” Sheriff Stilinski continued speaking but it all began to sound like white noise to Allison. It took everything she had in her to focus on not veering off the road so that she could head to the Sheriff’s station and speak to Stilinski in person. 
Conveniently, her route took her right past y/n and Justin’s house. Allison didn’t know what to expect as she sped by their house, but the fact that Justin’s normally filthy truck had been cleaned and waxed definitely caught her eye. The truck and driveway were soon out of sight due to the speed she was driving at, but at first glance, it looked as though his tires and grill had been replaced.
He reports his missing wife
And I noticed when I passed his house his truck has got some brand new tires
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About a week had passed since y/n had been reported missing. Allison wasn’t sure how many search parties had been held, but they all resulted in the same thing: nothing. There wasn’t a single trace of her best friend, in fact, everything in Beacon Hills looked completely unchanged and normal. Allison’s focus and appetite seemed to have left with her other half, try as she might to desperately hold onto them. Her marksmanship had even been affected, something that hadn’t happened since high school.
Allison started driving around town during her free time. She wasn’t headed anywhere in particular, she mostly did it to try to clear her mind, though most times she was unsuccessful. She’d been mindlessly taking right and left turns and before she realized where she was, she passed y/n’s house.
Allison hadn’t planned to slow down as she passed the house, it was a mindless act if anything. Seeing a moving truck backed up to the house while Justin and some unfamiliar blonde woman were unloading boxes ensured that her decision to park her car where it couldn’t be seen and spy on the pair wasn’t mindless. Despite her gut telling her not to, Allison decided to give Justin the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he needed a roommate now since y/n couldn’t pay her share of the rent? Allison tried her best to keep all of her judgments and suspicions at bay as she watched the otherwise uneventful event unfold while biting her fingernails. 
A few boxes later, Justin pulled the blonde in by her waist and kissed her with a fervor that would make most people blush. Allison’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she sat there in shock with her mouth wide open. It took a while, mostly because the kiss lasted for an obnoxious amount of time, but Allison finally regained control of her body. It was like her brain had to go through a hard reset before she was able to face the reality of the situation.
y/n was right. Justin was cheating on her. Not only that, but Justin had cheated on y/n, spent less than a week grieving her disappearance, then allowed this to happen.
And his mistress moved in
Sleeps in Este's bed and everything
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Allison found out that Justin Smith’s mistress’s name was Rebecca Baker. She was a few years younger than y/n and she worked at the same company as Justin. It didn’t take long for Allison to hack into both of their iCloud accounts. A few hours of scrolling later she was really regretting her decision, especially when she got to Justin’s messages to Rebecca about y/n.
2:47 a.m.  What about your wife? - Spam Risk
2:47 a.m.  What about her? - Justin
2:48 a.m.  Are you going to leave her or kick her out or something? - Spam Risk
2:48 a.m.  It’s been taken care of. - Justin
2:48 a.m.  Taken care of? Justin, what does that mean? - Spam Risk
2:49 a.m.  Justin??? - Spam Risk
Each new message ensured that bits of Allison’s fingernails had been gnawed off while her left hand fidgeted anxiously in front of her mouth. Allison decided that those messages were probably the most incriminating thing she’d find digitally, but the time and date stamps caught her eye. The texts were sent early Monday morning, the day that y/n allegedly left home and then didn’t show up for work or return home. 
A chill spread from deep within Allison’s bones up to the surface of her skin, making goosebumps appear. Allison didn’t know what exactly, but she knew something terrible had happened to y/n and Justin had something to do with it. She shut her laptop a little harder than necessary as a resolved look spread across her face.
No, there ain't no doubt
Somebody's gotta catch him out
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Good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen
Allison regularly accessed her personal armory, whether it was to prepare for a job or pack for a trip to the shooting range, but it had been a while since a powerful and unforgiving feeling hung over her shoulders. Allison carefully ran her fingers over her custom silver arrowheads as she considered her options. Her father’s words from one of her adolescent archery lessons rung in her head.
“The type of bow and arrows you use doesn’t matter. As long as you use them right, you’ll be able to make any shot. Don’t get hung up on the technicalities.”
Not too long after, her bag was stocked with her essentials: a bow, her trusted black leather archery glove, as well as a handful of arrows, though these ones lacked the silver heads she typically reserved for more exotic expeditions.
The rare dark clouds in the California sky at sunset were reflected in Allison’s cold eyes. The drive to her target’s house was familiar, the turns she made were almost instinctual. Normally these roads reminded her of her coffee dates with y/n and nights they spent talking for hours until sunlight crept through the windows. Now, her mind was blank and her heart was devoid of all emotion.
Even though Allison had disabled her car’s GPS earlier, she parked her car about a mile away from his house. When she was done, there wouldn’t be any evidence that could be traced back to her. She memorized his schedule; at 5:00 p.m. his shift ended and recently he’d been getting home by 5:20. His girlfriend got home sometime between 5:30 and 5:45, but she would leave for her pilates class around 6:30 and wouldn’t get home until 7:45. Allison had just over an hour window to get the job done, but it wouldn’t take that long. If everything went according to plan, she’d be off the property within a few minutes of taking the shot.
When she arrived her target had just come home from work and was alone in the house. She waited patiently, hidden by the trees that the property backed up to. She watched as he moved around through the open curtains and then as his girlfriend entered the house and kissed him with a passion that made Allison’s stomach churn. She watched as they ate dinner together, as her target’s girlfriend got ready for her gym class, and watched as she got in her car and drove away. When Allison checked her watch it was only 6:25 p.m., she had far more time than she needed.
The plan was simple, really. Under the cover of darkness, she’d flip the breakers, effectively cutting the power. When her target came out to investigate, she’d let him fumble around in the darkness for a while. He’d always been a paranoid individual, so it wouldn’t take much to get him on edge. A rustle in the bushes here, a small snapped tree branch there, and then something that would get his attention. Allison wanted his eyes to be on her when she took the shot.
Allison’s target was watching TV so he knew immediately when the power went out, plus the fact that the once illuminated house was suddenly bathed in darkness. The high-pitched yelp that escaped his throat almost made Allison laugh. She had to keep quiet though, at least for now. As expected, the dopey man scurried around to the side of the house where the breakers were located in no time. The batteries in the flashlight he held were on their last leg, that much was evident in the way the light beam flickered every few seconds.
Just as he opened the door to the circuit breaker panel, Allison moved. A rustle here. The sound practically echoed in the silence of the night, causing the man to whip around and shine his flashlight directly at the source of the noise. There was nothing there. It’s just the wind, he reasoned before getting back to work. After a few switches had been flipped - none of them for the outdoor lights - he heard another noise. This one was much louder than the last, a small snapped tree branch there. Again, the flashlight’s flickering light beam uncovered nothing, but it was enough to make all of the hairs on the back of Allison’s target’s neck stand up straight. He hastily flipped the rest of the breakers and the outdoor lights finally came on. 
When yellow light from the backyard fixtures flooded the area, both Allison and her target were revealed. Allison stood a considerable distance away from the man, but she was close enough to see the blood drain from his face and his Adam's apple bob. When his eyes darted to the bow hung by her side, realization dawned on his face. He began to turn away with the intention of running, but Allison’s voice held him frozen in place.
“Don’t move,” she ordered quietly without any aggression behind her tone. Her face wasn’t threatening, she just looked calm and focused. Allison’s smooth features and peaceful expression was what scared the man the most.
“I- I’m sorry- I didn’t-” he stammered out, his arms and legs beginning to tremble.
“Shh,” Allison chastised as she raised her bow, loading it with an arrow. Her fingers moved with precision, her muscles knew this routine well.
“Please don’t- no, you can’t, you can’t do this!” the man pleaded. He wasn’t above begging on his knees, but Allison wasn’t about to give him the chance. Her gaze was sharply focused on her target, the view of her tightly grasped bow in her peripheral vision.
“Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent.”
When Allison’s fingers let go of the bowstring the arrow flew smoothly through the air. The only sounds heard were the arrowhead piercing skin and the man wordlessly falling to the ground. The arrow went straight through his heart. Maybe Allison’s shot landed right where she intended. Maybe there was a metaphor in there. Allison checked her wristwatch, the numbers 6:45 shining back at her. An entire hour to spare.
Time to take out the trash.
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I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene
The job didn’t take long at all and it was definitely one of Allison’s least challenging ones, but it still felt nice to take a hot shower and sit in front of her fireplace with a cup of tea. The fire served a dual purpose; the crackles of the burning wood soothed her like a lullaby while the flames licked around and destroyed her bloody clothes from earlier. All of her equipment had been cleaned and put away, positioned exactly as it had been before. Everything was the same, nothing changed or out of place. There was just one less heartbeat in the world that night.
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Good thing Este's sister's gonna swear she was with me
On the second day of the trial,  Rebecca Baker’s lawyers were throwing whatever they could against the wall to see if something would stick. That morning they began to argue that Allison Argent might’ve abducted and murdered Justin Smith in retaliation for y/n’s disappearance. It was all speculation at best, but the theory unfortunately made sense to the jury. Before things could get too far, the prosecution called its first witness of the day to the stand.
“Mrs. Martin, where were you on the night of Mr. Smith’s suspected disappearance?” the prosecution lawyer questioned calmly. 
“I was with Allison at my house. We were having a girls night in, you can check my security cameras,” Lydia answered confidently. Lydia still had a pocketful of favors from her MIT days, so when the jurors were shown the clips from Lydia’s home security cameras, they saw exactly what they would’ve expected based on Lydia’s testimony. 
Truth be told, Lydia didn’t know anything about what happened that night; including Allison’s whereabouts and any details related to Justin’s alleged demise. All she knew was that Allison called and asked for a simple favor - an alibi for just a few hours. Lydia didn’t ask questions and Allison didn’t give answers.
Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy
On the third day of the trial, Rebecca Baker took the stand. Her lawyers tried to help her as best they could, but the prosecution was ruthless. All of the evidence was circumstantial at best -  all parties, including the judge and jurors, knew that - but it was enough to make everyone reconsider the spotless image the defense had tried to create for Ms. Baker.
“Ms. Baker, is it true that you knowingly engaged in a romantic relationship while Justin Smith was married to and living with his wife?” another one of the prosecution’s attorneys began.
“Yes,” Rebecca replied meekly. Allison internally scoffed from her seat in the gallery. She found irony in the fact that Rebecca didn’t find any humility or shame in sleeping with another woman’s husband until she was under oath.
“Is it also true that within approximately a week of Mrs. y/l/n’s disappearance, you moved into Mr. Smith and Mrs. y/l/n’s house?”
“That is correct,” Rebecca said as she began to wring her hands together anxiously. The judge tapped his wrist watch and shot a stern look towards the prosecutor. The man nodded in response and continued to his final points.
“I’ll wrap up my questions for you, Ms. Baker. Can you confirm that shortly after moving in with Mr. Smith, multiple legal and financial arrangements and adjustments were made? And these new arrangements make you the sole beneficiary of Mr. Smith’s life issuance policy, assets, and investments?”
By the end of the prosecution’s final question, every jury member and spectator sat up straighter and waited to hear Rebecca’s response with bated breath. The blonde ball of nerves sighed defeatedly before turning to face the attorney directly as she answered his question.
“Yes, that’s true.”
“No further questions, your honor.” As the lead prosecutor returned to the plaintiff’s table, Rebecca’s attorney stood up to address the judge.
“Your honor, the defense would like to request a brief recess,” the defense attorney nearly pleaded. Though his poker face was much better than his client’s, it was clear that he was getting nervous.
“We’ll reconvene in 15 minutes,” the judge ordered with a stern glare cast towards Rebecca.
They think she did it but they just can't prove it
It soon became clear to Rebecca that the recess her legal team requested was nothing more than a “kiss your dignity goodbye” meeting. If she hadn’t been queasy before the recess was called, she definitely was upon re-entering the courtroom.
The rest of the trial seemed to move in slow motion for Rebecca. A few more witnesses were called to the stand, more lackluster evidence was presented, both sides made their closing arguments, and the jury left to discuss the verdict. After what felt like an eternity, the jury returned with an official decision.
Silence settled over the room as a single juror stood to address the court.
“The jury finds the defendant not guilty on count 1 of murder in the first degree based on lack of sufficient evidence. The jury finds the defendant not guilty on count 2 of kidnapping based on lack of sufficient evidence. The jury finds the defendant guilty on count 3 of insurance fraud based on…” 
The rest of the jurors’ statement sounded like white noise to Rebecca. She was just barely coherent enough to hear the judge deliver her punishment a few minutes later. $50,000 fine and 200 hours of community service.
Allison stuck around to the bitter end of the trial to hear the verdict in person. In all honesty, Allison didn’t want Rebecca to go to jail. It wouldn’t be right for her to serve time for a crime she didn’t commit, but Allison did find satisfaction in the fact that Rebecca would soon be picking up garbage in a fluorescent orange vest.
After the majority of the spectators had vacated the courtroom gallery, Allison leisurely gathered her things. Justice had been served to Justin, she personally made sure of that, and now justice had been served to Rebecca. The blonde and brunette women briefly locked eye contact as Allison made her way towards the exit. 
“You did this,” Rebecca whispered to Allison. Suddenly, it was like a flip switched within her. One moment she was numb, yet calm and collected, and the next moment she was screaming (literal) bloody murder and had to be held back by her lawyers.
“YOU DID THIS! YOU KILLED JUSTIN, YOU BITCH!” Rebecca cried, though her words fell on deaf ears. Allison exited the courtroom with her head held high as the courtroom deputy and defense lawyers did their best to calm the hysterical woman.
She thinks I did it but she just can't prove it
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A week later the court case was still on Allison’s mind but the emotional scars had begun to scab. Healing was never a straight or smooth path, Allison had learned that the hard way over the years, but this was a start.
y/n’s landlord had been generous enough to allow Allison to gather y/n’s things before he cleaned out the house for new renters. As Allison walked through the home she once considered to be an extension of her own, she felt her throat dry out and tighten up. She hadn’t realized she was crying until she was wiping salty tears off of the picture frames she’d carefully picked up. Each photo unlocked a new memory, some even elicited a chuckle out of Allison amidst her tears.
A photo from y/n’s wedding day stood out among all the rest as Allison’s eyes jumped from frame to frame. It was a candid shot Lydia had taken while they were in y/n’s dressing room before the ceremony. y/n looked as beautiful as ever in her flowy white gown and Allison’s mulberry maid of honor dress complemented it well. As Allison put the final touches on y/n’s hair and makeup, y/n fastened the clasp of a custom necklace behind Allison’s neck. On a thin, medium-length chain hung an arrowhead from the first time Allison had ever tried to teach y/n how to shoot a bow and arrow. y/n failed miserably, but it was a cherished memory for both girls. Since that day, Allison had only taken the necklace off a handful of times.
Allison smiled bittersweetly at the memory and wiped a fresh tear off of the decorative frame before pulling her necklace out from underneath her shirt. She pressed a gentle kiss to the cool silver arrowhead and then to the photo frame, right above y/n’s styled hair. 
A feeling that Allison couldn’t quite explain flowed through her body just then; it was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being stuck underwater or seeing the gentle rays of the sun for the first time after a hurricane, it felt like freedom. Allison felt almost as if y/n was right there next to her, with her head resting on Allison's shoulder and wrapping her arms around the brunette’s torso. In that moment, Allison somehow wordlessly knew with every fiber in her being that y/n was finally at peace. 
No, no body, no crime
I wasn't letting up until the day he died
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a/n: AHHHH DID YOU LIKE IT? it was kind of a wild ride from start to finish and i definitely shed a few tears while i was writing it. please lmk what you think!
okay, now onto the writing process from hell: i started drafting ideas for the fic on dec. 21 or 22 of 2020, after i put together a mood board. i had written more than half of the fic when i decided i hated it and scrapped the whole thing on xmas eve (~3000 words 🤡). after that i was kinda in a rut and couldn’t decide how i wanted to end the fic so i ended up writing and deleting ~2500 words over the past month and a half. @demxters​ is an absolute GODDESS and helped me come up with the ending, so i am eternally grateful to her for that. if any of this seems a lil strange it’s probably because i finished writing it at 4:45 a.m. after working on it for 3ish hours straight. have a great day lovelies!
join my tag list!
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orangefoxes · 3 years
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Hey, so I've been trying to submit a prompt but it won't work so here it goes I know this will be sad but what if Neil gets really sad and depressed (the reason is up for interpretation ex: bullied by jack or is haunted by PTSD) and so he becomes full of self hate and becomes anorexic and cuts himself #andreil (this would mean so much since I've been through similar circumstances and was strong enough to pull through and keep living, this book and your Tumblr have helped me so much)
Hi @soph-ie21 I am so sorry this took a whopping 4 years for me to post. I’m terrible for not checking my inbox as my notifications have been turned off for tumblr since I was like 13. I’m so glad to hear that you recovered from your ED, you must be so strong and I’m so proud of you as I know how difficult that is to do. I’m hoping this is the sort of prompt you were looking for, if you’re even looking after this long, as it’s not very dialogue heavy, but here you go.
TRIGGER WARNING: EATING DISORDER, SELF LOATHING, ANOREXIA.
When in high stress situations, to cope, the brain releases a hormone called cortisol. It’s alright in small doses, helpful even. It triggers your fight or flight response and readies the body to do something, fast. Constant exposure to the hormone however, has some not so good long term effects. Effects that include, but are not limited to: high blood pressure, heart disease, type 2 diabetes, osteoporosis, and, arguably the mildest, weight gain.
Cortisol results in weight gain for two reasons. The first is because it slows your metabolism, and the second is because the drop in blood sugar from constant high blood pressure means that you start craving fatty, sugary foods, which leads to overeating. Neil’s memory is not nearly good enough for him to recall what foods he had craved over the years, but he and his mother shied away from sweets and chocolate for dental reasons, it probably would have been a hardship for many kids growing up but Neil had never much cared for sugar anyway. However, what he and his mother did indulge in is a lot of fatty, fast food. Partly because it was cheap, partly because it was something they could eat while on the move, and partly because no one would look twice at two sketchy people in a Burger King or remember a beaten up old car briefly pausing in a drive thru.
While never giving much thought to how he looked (short of checking for ginger roots and the bruise on his cheek from where his mother had slapped that smile from his face), Neil does remember his weight fluctuating a lot when he was younger. The more stressful the months, the chubbier he got. It was in the quiet periods as he and his mother settled down and didn’t dare to venture into the supermarket too often that he began to lose it again. It was a cycle.
In Millport, Neil was at his lowest weight yet. There was only a solitary McDonald’s in town and Neil wasn’t about to become a regular. He stocked up on tinned food from the supermarket in his first week in town instead and meticulously made his way through them, heating the can up on the hot plate he had bought for four dollars from the thrift store in the high street.
He gained weight again once he started at Palmetto, he gained muscle mass too. This, of course, was thanks to three free meals a day and a new training regime with daily exercise. It was to be expected, but if, perhaps, he gained weight quicker than his teammates and muscle slower, well, he had bigger things to worry about.
Then he knew he was going to live.
Then everything with the Moriyamas was…well, not gone, but resolved.
That’s not to say there was nothing to stress about. There was the influx of reporters wanting to catch the Foxes’ attention to ask about Nathaniel Wesninski. There was Kevin’s impending break down as Riko’s funeral came and went. There was Aaron’s trial. Honestly it probably would have gone as stressful situations for Neil always go - here and gone just as quickly - except it turns out that Nicky cooks when he’s stressed, and Neil, well, he’s a stress eater.
After Aaron is declared innocent, Nicky resumes as normal. Neil…not quite. He’s constantly opening the cupboards to look for something to eat only to close them again when he finds nothing of interest. Without Nicky cooking, there’s nothing he can easily dig into and Neil, while accumulating many skills over the years, had never been a hand in the kitchen. The only things ready-eat that were consistently in the dorm were ramen and ice-cream. Even the thought of ramen makes Neil want to vomit and Neil wasn’t so desperate that he would resort to eating something as sweet as ice cream. Not that Andrew would let him if he did. (Andrew wasn’t a sharer).
He started to feel hungry.
He was always hungry.
The first few days he started to skip meals, he didn’t even notice he was doing it. Surely he didn’t notice he was doing it.
It’s just -
Here’s the thing.
Maybe he stress eats. Maybe his mother did too. They spent long car journeys with a family sized bag of potato chips resting by the gear stick and they spent half the time stuffing handfuls into their mouths and the other half checking the mirrors for cars that stayed behind them a touch to long. So maybe he stress ate, but it was never because of hunger: it was because of craving. It was because it gave him something to do with his hands. It was only when things quietened down, when the weeks turned long with the monotonous almost-existence that took up the majority of Neil’s life growing up (here’s something no one tells you about life on the run, in between the moments of sheer terror, it’s very very very boring), it was only then, that Neil actually began to feel things like hunger.
So when the hunger pangs began to curdle in his stomach, well, he didn’t mind. It meant he was safe enough to feel the hunger.
Maybe for the first couple of days he didn’t notice it. But then he noticed it.
He noticed enough to avoid things like rice and bread. Danger foods that packed on the calories and that made him bite the inside of his cheek until it bled at the mere thought. He noticed enough that he began to watch the others train and saw their muscles flex and couldn’t help but track their muscle growth and measure it up against his own. He always found himself lacking.
That’s when it started to get worse. If Allison spent 20 minutes on the treadmill. Then Neil would do 30. If Kevin did 40 push ups. Then Neil would do 50. If Renee had a salad for lunch, then Neil would just have a fruit pot.
The first time Andrew noticed that he skipped a meal, Neil just blinked. Being who he was, Neil didn’t do stupid things like stumble for lies and this time was no different. When Andrew asked about him not eating Neil just blinked like he hadn’t even noticed until Andrew brought it up.
He blinked and said “oh, you’re right. I got so caught up in watching exy reruns i didn’t even notice”
He said, “thanks, I’ll grab something in a sec”
Andrew breathed a scoffing breath down his nose, rolled his eyes and called him a junkie. He didn’t look at all surprised, as though Neil was only confirming what he had already guessed. Which of course is the trick all good liars employ.
Neil wondered if he would be surprised if he were to find out how impossible it would be for Neil to forget a meal time. He could never forget. All he thought about was food. It was all he thought about.
Food began to feel like it was all he cared about. Cared about more than school. Cared about more than exy. Is it terrible of him that that more than anything else feels like the worst thing?
And then, as things do, it got worse.
It turned into Neil stood in front of the mirror (looking at his body but not his eyes, never his eyes) and pinching the flesh between his fingers. Noticing every part of him that didn’t harden into muscle like the others. Noticing all the scars that had stretched strangely over a waist and thighs that are no longer as small.
He begins to peck at his food. Rip it into tiny pieces. Andrew looks down at his plate and glowers at him. Neil gives him a cheeky grin. He knows what he’s thinking. That this is just another one of those Andrew-mannerisms that Neil is taking on for himself. Like the sarcastic salutes and the blank, waiting stares. It’s so much easier to hide how little you’ve eaten when it’s all in pieces.
He didn’t know how to explain it. He just knows he needs to be thinner. He needs to weigh less. It’s not about looks. It’s never been about looks. He just needs to do this. He needs to be smaller. It will be alright then. Because then…then…
Well it will be alright then.
So here’s the thing about guilt and self loathing: they’re useless emotions. Andrew would be quick to agree. (Though Andrew is a hypocrite and is chock full of the both of them). His mother would agree too. How many times had Neil slipped poison into someone’s drink, stole from someone just as desperate, shot someone who maybe or maybe-not deserved it? And how many times after that did his mother pinch and prod at him and repeat the same mantra of “don’t you dare let guilt slow you down, you slow down and you’re dead”
Well, Mum, he’s slowed down. He slowed down so much that he’s stopped altogether and guess what? He fucking hates himself.
He replays it all in his head like a terrible loop. The boy in Switzerland that he tricked into taking his jacket so His fathers men would go after him instead. The old women he and his mother tricked into housing them and then slipped something in her tea until she slept and never woke up again. The homeless man who had broken into the house they were squatting in that Neil had shot on instinct. Seth.
Seth. Seth. Seth.
He fucking hates himself. Honestly the hunger pains kind of feel like the best thing he’s ever felt after that. The pain, the ache, he deserves it.
Then it gets worse. Then comes the worst part.
Andrew’s meds change again. The others had begun to make him irritable and he always had an energy crash by about 5pm and a terrible headache. The new ones wouldn’t be of much note as they did nothing groundbreakingly different, short of getting rid of the headaches and not sapping so much of his energy.
Except for one key side effect of the meds.
They suppressed Andrew’s appetite.
More and more Andrew is missing meals. He won’t even eat more than a tablespoon of ice cream. Neil watches him and adjusts himself to suit. He doesn’t know why, but he just can’t be eating more than him, he can’t.
The frustration he feels about Andrew’s meds soon turn to resentment. He hates that he has to watch Andrew not eat and not seem affected by it at all. Andrew lessens his exercise under Betsy’s advice and yet nothing changes. His weight stays the same. He probably even loses some thanks to the loss of muscle. Neil watches and Neil hates. He hates that if he skipped out on training he would pack on the pounds, he hates that his stomach hurt and hurts and Andrew doesn’t spare a thought on food at all.
He starts to avoid the roof. He starts to dodge Andrew’s gaze the same way he does his own in the mirror.
The next time they’re alone and Andrew leans in, more hesitant than he’s been in months, Neil jerks back and snaps “No.”
It isn’t even completely because of the resentment. The majority of it is because he feels disgusting and fat and he can’t bare Andrew touching him right now. Can’t bare him looking at him.
Andrew’s face closes off and he slides back to the other side of the couch. He’s searching Neil’s face, trying to find the misstep, trying to find what he did wrong.
Good, let him think he did something wrong.
Now that’s the resentment.
It’s immediately one of the worst things Neil has ever thought. He remembers sitting, trembling, on the roof, Andrew refusing to touch him saying “I wont be like them, I wont let you let me be”
And Neil’s trying to make him think, wants to make him feel -
Jesus Christ. He’s a piece of fucking shit.
He slams his way out of the dorm and runs and runs and runs.
He sleeps in the locker room and slumps out in the morning so he’s first in the main room for the meeting with Wymack. He sits on a chair that’s as far away from every other seat as it can get while still completing the make do semi-circle around where Wymack usually stands. When the others begin to filter in they take in his new seat, but don’t comment when they see his storming expression.
When Andrew sees him he pauses for a beat in the doorway before continuing to his usual seat on the couch. He stares at Neil blankly, but his hands are clenching and unclenching in his lap. Wymack hesitates but doesn’t say anything. The others play at being uninterested and only Aaron openly looks between Neil and Andrew with a steadyingly darkening expression.
Neil slams his locker and gets changed in the cubicles for the first time in months. He’s vicious in practice. Throwing in as many dirty moves as he can. Andrew stands in the goal and does nothing. When it’s only Wymack’s sharp whistle that stops Neil bringing his racket down on Matt’s arm when he attempts to steal the ball, Neil is benched.
He yanks off his helmet and slumps down on the bench and tries to remember how to breathe through rage.
He’s sat, pinching at the skin on his thigh, for ten minutes before Allison joins him. She holds out a breakfast bar and Neil stiffens.
“Eat, it might help you stop being such a raging asshole,” she says.
Neil takes the breakfast bar and when she doesn’t immediately leave he opens it and snaps a bit off with his fingers.
He stares down the rolled oats and nuts and grimaces at the sticky feeling of the syrup that holds them together. He feels sick.
“Are you going to eat?” Allison says.
Neil looks at her and huffs a bitter breath through his nose. A wry smile pulls at the corner of his lips.
He remembers that Allison battled bulimia for years.
You can’t lie to a liar.
She looks at his face. Concern trying to become anger that she’s trying to force to stay concern. She looks at his face and then over at Andrew, who is stood in his goal watching them as Kevin shouts at him to fucking do something already. She looks back at Neil.
“You know, relationships are hard enough without mental health problems in the mix. Seth and I were a terrible combination for many reasons and that was one them. I’m not saying it can’t be done or that it shouldn’t be done, I’m just saying it makes it so much harder. He used to try to make me eat. I hated him for that. Hated that I had to hide my own habits in my own room. One day, after he stopped me from going to purge one too many times we got into an argument. I said some disgusting things to him. The next day he was in the hospital because of an overdose. He had to get his stomach pumped. You know what the worst thing is? I don’t even remember what it is I said. I don’t know if what I did triggered him or if it would have happened anyway, but it couldn’t have helped. You’re always going to trigger each other at one point or another, it’s unavoidable. But if you know that and you don’t do anything to help yourself…well that’s when every shit thing you think about yourself starts to become true. So tell me, are you a piece of shit that’s going to drag everyone down with you, or are you better than that?”
Neil looks down at the breakfast bar. He still can’t make himself eat it.
He swallows harshly against the lump in his throat. He has to swallow two more times until he’s sure he can talk without crying.
“What’s betsy’s number?” He asks.
Allison doesn’t smile, but she nods like he’s done the right thing and pulls out her phone.
SIDE NOTE: I’d like to point out that Neil is very flawed and toxic in his thinking and Allison is harsh in what she says to him just because she’s a harsh person. If you have an eating disorder I know sometimes help and recovery seems like the worst thing in world and something you really don’t want, but please, please seek help. You can do it.
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asexualdrago · 3 years
Text
20 Questions
b@babycakes1983 shoutout to them for the FNAF prompts
Glamrock Freddy laid flat with his back against a wall in a sitting position as Gregory was nestled in his lap.His breathing was slow and his heartbeat was calm. No wrinkle of worry or fear on the boy’s face. He had to admit that Roxanne and Glamrock Chica were right. He was adorable when he slept. How they knew this, no idea. Maybe he had taken naps in their green rooms and he didn’t notice. He didn’t mind it all that much. At least he can admire these peaceful moments after a long day of work. No Glitchtrap, no Vanny and no worries.
Gregory shifted in his lap and rested his head against Glamrock Freddy’s chest where the empty compartment sat. A low, rhythmic ticking echoed in the boy’s ears. He slowly opened his brown eyes and yawned. Glamrock Freddy felt his circuits stop flowing suddenly seeing his boy wake up. “Hello Gregory, sleep well?” He asked in amusement as the boy looked a bit dazed from waking up. Looking up he saw Freddy’s kind, glowing blue eyes. 
Nearly blushing he said “I-uh. Yeah I slept well.” He smiled at the animatronic as Glamrock Freddy maneuvered his jaw to smile down at the boy. “Um Freddy, how long was I asleep?” “2 hours and 30 minutes. If you are wondering how you got here, Vanessa told us that your mother dropped you off with her and she brought you here as she had work to do and trusted me to watch you.” Glamrock Freddy explained. Gregory’s blush deepened and laughed awkwardly. “Oh, um sorry about that Freddy.”  Said animatronic laughed and ruffled the child’s hair making him giggle and try to push it away. “Hey! C-cut it out! Freddy’s response was to jab his metallic fingers into the boy’s sides and making him squeak adorably. “Stop it!” He continued to squeak. Glamrock Freddy loved it when his boy laughed. It made him feel alive and he was certain it made him feel better too. To laugh and have joy surge in him. Glamrock Freddy noticed he doesn’t laugh as much as most children he would meet on the daily. He guessed he was terribly shy. To be honest, he didn’t react like most kids, he felt that Gregory was lonely. Just meeting him made Gregory feel better and he was still shy but he made more of an effort to socialize with others thanks to the gang’s encouragement. 
He continued to jab him as gently as possible as he didn’t want to hurt him. He stopped after a few minutes and ruffled Gregory’s hair again. “Y-you’re mean” He pants. “I am not mean Gregory. Its not in my programming, I am playful and energetic.” “Not energetic enough to catch Roxy when she’s running.” The boy then stuck out his tongue at him. Glamrock Freddy playfully rolled his eyes and picked Gregory up in his arms. 
“Hey Freddy, where are the others?” “Working on their performances for the talent show after closing hours.” Gregory looked at him dumbfounded. “You guys have talent shows?” Freddy nodded. “Yes, what do you think we do after hours? Scare the night guards?” ;) “I am pretty sure Vanessa would hate that.” Glamrock Freddy chuckled. “Yes, yes she would.” Glamrock Freddy walked towards the green rooms. Specifically his, passing both the sun and moon animatronic jumping along beams and pipes. “Freddy, w-what are t-they d-doing? Noting his slight stutter he rubbed the boy’s back to calm him. “Its ok. They are not going to harm you. I would take a guess and say they are playing. Better than Moondrop pranking us constantly till 6 am.” He sighed. “Figured the sun animatronic would be asleep right now.” “Asleep? Oh, powered down correct?” Glamrock Freddy nodded. Ruffling his hair again, another thing he noticed. Gregory didn’t react to affection very well and was confused by it. Just when Glamrock Freddy showed him these acts of affection he slowly became more comfortable to his touch and didn’t flinch when he came too close. 
“Why don’t we play a game? To pass the time.” He suggested. Partially to get his thoughts at ease. His metal feet clanking against the tiles of the pizzeria museum. Gregory nodded and thought of the 20 question game.”20 questions hmm? I’ve never played it before. I guess we can try. Do we just ask each other questions till we reach 20?” Gregory looked up at him with bright brown eyes. “I guess so. Should I start or you?” His metal jaw maneuvered into a smile and said he’ll start. 1. what’s your favorite color?” “Yellow. 2. What’s your favorite music?” “Hmm. I’d say 80′s rock.” Gregory laughed. “Don’t you guys play 80′s rock? There has to be something else.” Gregory laughed. “To be honest, I am not certain but I do have an assortment of songs. 3. what’s your favorite past time?” “I’d say coloring or drawing. 4. Who’s your favorite Glamrock member?” Freddy shook his head. “I don’t have a favorite , they are all family to me. That also includes you and sadly Vanessa.” He leaned his head down to nuzzle him. Gregory leaned his head towards the nuzzling with a small smile on his face, 
Just to think, a few weeks ago he was afraid of him doing that thinking he was going to hurt him. Which brought back the thoughts he had about his family. Gregory felt like his child. In other words, his cub. The others would mention or joke how he and Gregory have gotten closer and Vanessa mentioning that she had a feeling the reason was because he didn’t have a father or the relationship wasn’t as great as it was supposed to. “I been at their house, I didn’t see a picture of the father. Just Gregory and his mother. Makes me wonder though.” It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right? “5. What is your family like?” Gregory’s cheerful smile slowly faded. He looked nervous and didn’t know what to say. “Why do you want to know about that?” He asks. His voice becoming shy and soft. “Well, I have been thinking over it lately. And wondered what families are like, outside the complex.” Gregory looked down and seemed to think it over before sighing. “You already seen my mom. Right?” “I have, and Vanessa told us that she met her and they usually get smoothies together.” “Well, my mom is around but since she works at the diner and she isn’t home a lot. But she tries her best to raise me. Making sure everything is ok and that I am doing well.” 
Glamrock Freddy’s metallic ears twitched. “Are you usually alone?” “Sometimes, but she’ll have me stay with the neighbor or have a family member watch me if they have time and if they don’t mind.” Gregory took on a saddened look that Glamrock Freddy didn’t like seeing. As much as he wanted to do something but he let him continue. “She cares a lot about me. She doesn’t want me to be alone but she doesn’t have much of a choice. She’s a good person Freddy. She just has it hard.” “What about your father? What does he do?” “He....he is....not around anymore Freddy. I don’t know my dad....all that well....” Glamrock Freddy titled his head in confusion. “What do you mean? Did he pass away or...?” Gregory shrugged. “Mom doesn’t like talking about it. No less mentioning him. Sometimes I feel like when she does or someone mentions him, she gets visibly upset. So I never ask her. I doubt I want to know when she gets upset.” Gregory looked down and looked as if about to cry. “Is that why you don’t react well to affection? They don’t show much of it?” Gregory shrugged. “I-I don’t know Freddy.” Noting the boy was becoming more upset. He held him close and started consoling him. 
“Mom sometimes mentions I look just like him.” He sobs slightly. “Almost like she hates and loves the idea of me looking like him. Sometimes I feel like she hates me for it but doesn’t want to show it.” Glamrock Freddy felt rage surge in him. It wasn’t his cub’s fault that he has some resemblance to his father that he had no knowledge about. “It’s not your fault Gregory. Never was, you hear. You are special. Special to me. Your mother is strong, but even us adults can have our moments of self anger. You may not know him but its not your fault. I am so sorry you had to go through that.” Gregory hugged him and snuggled against his chest. He felt Glamrock Freddy nuzzle him again and stroking his back and hair. Luckily these actions helped him calm down. “I wasn’t joking when I said that you are part of our family. We love you Gregory. I love you my little cub.” Gregory couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Every word coming from his mouth more genuine than the next. He cried out of happiness and said softy. “I love you too. And I hope you don’t mind me seeing you as a father to me.” “I don’t mind my cub. I don’t mind at all.”
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uta-no-sin-sama · 3 years
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Birthday Cake-tastrophe! (HEAVENS x Reader)
My birthday is tomorrow at the time of writing this, so I figured I’d write an imagine for the first time in a while. I hope you all enjoy!
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Reader is gender neutral in this imagine, like in most of my work on this blog so far. 
Summary: The HEAVENS boys have a day off for once, and that day happens to be your birthday. Since you’re their beloved composer, the boys want to make your birthday extra special and throw you a surprise party including making the cake. However, their baking skills might need a little bit of work....
Word Count: 1,568
slight content warning (CW) for light swearing, but it doesn’t happen often in this imagine
Fluff, no major trigger warning (TW), but please dm me if I do need to possibly add a TW or CW for anything in this imagine for future works. 
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Key:
(Y/N) = your name
(N/N) = nickname
(F/C) = favorite color
(2/F/C) = second favorite color
(F/C/F) = favorite cake flavor
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Imagine is under the cut, I hope you all enjoy it!
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“Yamato..., I don’t think... we’re supposed to add... protein powder... to the... cake mix,” Kira said, growing more mildly annoyed when he realized that neither of the other two HEAVENS members seemed to have any idea what they were doing. 
It wasn’t often that the boys’ days off managed to coincide with birthdays, so whenever they got the chance to celebrate, they did whatever it took to make that person’s special day all the more memorable. Their beloved composer, (Y/N), was certainly no exception to this idea. As soon as (Y/N) had casually dropped the fact that their birthday was coming up during a conversation with Eiichi earlier that week, the boys knew they had to do everything in their power to make this birthday the best one yet for the composer they loved so dearly. 
They then decided it would be best to throw a surprise party, with that being Yamato and Van’s idea on how they should celebrate their composer’s special day. It was Nagi’s idea for them to try to bake a cake, his reasoning being that a birthday party wouldn’t be a birthday party without cake. Of course, the older HEAVENS members all knew that he just wanted an excuse to eat something sweet, but they were happy to oblige since they wanted a way to show their gratitude for all the hard work and love their composer has put into all the song they’ve produced together so far. However, as Eiichi, Shion and Van worked on setting up the decorations for the party and Eiji focused on distracting (Y/N) under the guise of needing help in his garden, Kira realized that neither Nagi nor Yamato had any idea on what they were doing when it came to baking. 
“What are you talking about?” Yamato grumbled as he begrudgingly put the box of protein powder back into the cabinet above the stove where they were working. “A little bit of protein never did much harm. Besides, don’t you want our manager to be in their best condition?” “For frick’s sake, Yamato!” Nagi whined. “If our (N/N)-chan wants something sweet for their birthday, that’s what they’ll get! Protein will just make the cake taste gross, and no one wants a gross cake!” “What are you trying to say about my cooking skills, Nagi?” Yamato growled, struggling to keep his temper in check while working with the complaining teen and trying not to make too big of a mess while mixing the (thankfully protein powder-less) cake batter. “Please..., no fighting... especially not... today...,” Kira warned, which thankfully worked to help calm the two younger members down, causing both Nagi and Yamato to mumble out in unison a brief “Sorry, Kira,” before returning to work. 
“I’d like... to be done... before the others... so we can... help them... while the cake... is baking...,” Kira explained. “Yeah, good idea,” agreed Nagi as he added a few drops of (F/C) food coloring to the frosting mixture he was working on. “I heard Shion was struggling with putting up that strand of lights we wanted up, they’re probably going to need more help once we’re waiting for the cake to bake.” The older two members hummed in agreement as they finished pouring the now ready batter into the cake tin and were now preparing to place the tin in the oven. “Alright, it’s 3:30 right now,” Yamato noted after Kira shut the oven door. “How much time are we supposed to let this bake for?” “Fifteen... minutes...,” Kira replied. “And let... the frosting... chill... for thirty....” “Okay, then,” Nagi answered as he covered the top of the frosting bowl with plastic wrap before gingerly placing in the fridge. “Let’s go check on the others and see what we can do to help them.” So, the three HEAVENS members did just that. Unfortunately for them, Kira had forgotten to set the timer to let them know when the cake was done baking.... 
“iiiiii~!” Eiichi exclaimed, proud of the work that he and the rest of HEAVENS had put into decorating the living room and dining room for the party. It truly was something to be proud of: stunning fairy lights and beautiful streamer strewn across the walls and stairs’ handrails, (F/C) and (2/F/C) balloons tied to the handrails, the gift table all arranged neatly in the dining room courtesy of Shion, all that was missing was the cake. “Awesome work, everyone!” Van cheered. “(N/N)-chan’s gonna love it!” “Well, of course they will,” Eiichi assured. “What would HEAVENS be without the passion we put into everything we do? It’s no different here. Besides, we’ve all put a lot of thought into this party. I have no doubt in my mind that (Y/N) will appreciate our gesture for them on their special day.” 
“Oh, it sounds like Eiji’s having a hard time keeping (Y/N) distracted,” Shion pointed out shortly after checking his phone for the time to see that Eiji had texted him letting him know that since he didn’t have any more work that needed to be done in the garden, he and (Y/N) were going to a nearby hardware store to find more plants and seeds for the newly cleared section of the garden. “By the way, what time were you supposed to pull the cake out of the oven, Kira?” “3:45,” Kira answered. “What time... is it... now?” 
A brief moment of silence followed as Shion began to panic in realization that it was now 4:05 and the cake was now overbaked. He was hesitant in trying to tell the other members the time, much to Yamato’s frustration. “Cat got your tongue, Shion?” Yamato groaned before he snatched the phone from Shion’s hands, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull when the read what time it was. “Shit! The cake!” “Hm? What’s wrong, Yamato?” Nagi inquired. “We fucking burned (Y/N)’s cake!” Yamato exclaimed in a mix of panic and anger. “It’s still in the oven!” With that, the athletic HEAVENS member hurried back to the kitchen to try to save the cake from being even more burned, the remaining HEAVENS members following suit. 
Once Yamato had pulled the cake out of the oven, he could tell that the top part was almost completely burned. There was no way for him to initially tell that the cake was supposed to be (F/C/F), so he nearly slammed his hands on the stove in anger at himself for ruining the cake until Eiichi stopped him. “Let’s take it out of the tin first and we’ll see if we can salvage it,” the group leader insisted, hoping to soothe the frustrated Yamato, who simply huffed and agreed to let Van and Kira remove the cake tin. Thankfully, the rest of the cake was not burned from being in the oven too long, so all that had to be done was to cut the burned part of the cake off before Nagi and Shion spread the frosting and (2/F/C) sprinkles on the now-salvaged cake. 
By the time Kira had set the cake down on the dining room table near where all the gifts were set, Eiichi received a text from his younger brother. “Eiji and (Y/N) are here,” he directed. “Quick! Everyone, get into your hiding spot! Van, turn the light off. As soon as (Y/N) turns the light on, jump out and yell ‘Surprise!’” “Yes, Eiichi!” the remaining members responded in a whisper-yell as Van rushed to turn off the light and the HEAVENS members hid, waiting for Eiji and (Y/N) to open the door. Sure enough, just a few seconds later, they did just that. 
“Thanks for coming with me on such short notice, (Y/N),” Eiji said with a soft smile as he shut the door behind him. “Yeah, no problem,” (Y/N) replied before pointing out, “Geez, it’s dark in here. Where’s the light switch?” “Oh, here, I’ll get it,” Eiji answered before he flicked the lights on. Just as Eiichi had instructed them to do, the rest of the HEAVENS members jumped out from their hiding spots. 
“Surprise!” they shouted, causing (Y/N) to jump a little in shock before they turned to Eiji with a shocked and ecstatic look on their face and taking in the decorations before them. 
“You guys remembered!” (Y/N) beamed with happiness as all seven members were now standing near them. “Well, of course,” Van stated with a wink, making (Y/N) laugh slightly. “How could we possibly forget?” Eiichi asked as he took (Y/N)’s hand and led them to where the cake was waiting. “You didn’t have to do all of this!” (Y/N) exclaimed with a light laugh. “This is amazing, thank you all so much!” “It’s nothing, (N/N)-chan!” Nagi replied. “After all...,” Kira noted. “It’s your... special day....” “You’re always putting in so much effort into our music, (Y/N),” Eiji added before Yamato continued, “So since we have the day off, we wanted to make your day even more special.” “Thank you for everything you do, (Y/N),” Shion muttered just loud enough to be audible. By the time the group had all sat down to cut into the cake, the boys all cheered together: 
“Happy birthday, (Y/N)!” 
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natashxromanovf · 3 years
Text
Injuries
Pairing: Sirius Black× fem! reader
Warnings: swearing, vomiting, alcohol, injuries
Word count: 2k
A/N: I’m kinda proud of this one. I can definitely see the progress. I hope you like it! I started writing it 2 weeks ago, but lost motivation and now I’m here finishing it today. Also @voidmalfoy wanted to be tagged in here. Thank you for deciding to read it.
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You and Sirius were best friends since the second year. You have never imagined him as something else. Something more.
Your dorm was very bright from the sun shining through the windows. You could feel the warmth on your body. It was a perfect afternoon.
“Hey Y/N.”
“Hello, Marlene”
“I need to ask you something” 
“Sure”
“What’s going on with you and Sirius?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, are you two a couple or something?”
“What?” the question caught you off guard. “No. You know we are not.”
“Babe, I have seen the way you’re looking at him. You look like your heart is about to melt into your hands.”
“What, no-” and then it hit. The realization that you are, indeed, in love with your best friend. it didn’t happen all of a sudden, no. The feelings were built through the years. It started with a little crush, you developed in fifth year. You pushed it at the back of your mind, convincing yourself it’ll go away. But it didn’t. It just kept growing and growing, until it was too big for you to deny it anymore.   
“Fuck” you sighed “No, no, no this is not happening! It can’t be happening. I can’t. He doesn’t feel the same I’m just going to end up heartbroken.” a million thoughts were running through your head. But the loudest and strongest one was He doesn’t feel the same. How am I gonna tell him?
You decided not to worry about it. Not tonight. Tonight is time for fun. The marauders planed one hell of a good party (Sirius was in charge of the drinks, Remus planned the whole thing and James and Peter made sure that teachers won’t hear a thing) and there’s no way you are gonna ruin yourself the night. Tonight is time for drinking and celebrating Gryffindor's win in the match against Ravenclaw. 
When you got there the common room was already pretty full. Your eyes started to search for Sirius before you even realized it. And there he was, flirting with a girl as always. The new feeling hit you. You immediately knew what it was. It felt like a stab in the chest, like someone was trying to tear your heart out of your chest. No, don’t you thought. What did I promise myself? You got lost in your thoughts before someone tapped your shoulder.
“Hey Y/N/N.”
“Oh, hey Lily.”
She looked at Sirius and then at your face. “Marls told me” she sighed.
“Oh news travels fast around here.” you rolled your eyes.
“Let’s go somewhere else. Drinks!”
Soon all of your friends joined. You danced, drank, you had fun. Maybe a little too much. You tripped and fell, but somebody caught you.
“Wow, you okay, love?”
Sirius.
“Yeah, I’m all good, Siri” you giggled. Trying to steady yourself, you once again lost balance but there were hands quickly to wrap around your waist.
“Okay, I think you had enough.”
What? No. I didn’t know you were such a party killer.”
“Believe me, I’m not, but I think you should go up.”
“Whatever.” He escorted you.
“Thank-” you couldn’t even finish the sentence. As soon as you came up you ran straight to the bathroom. You don’t tolerate alcohol very well. You knew that. You started throwing up and someone's hands grabbed your hair.
“See. Told you.” joked Sirius but there was a hint of worry in his voice.
“I’m okay. Thank you.” you smiled. “But I think I’m gonna stay here for a little bit. I don’t think it’s over yet.”
“Then I’m staying too.” he sounded pretty sober, looking at a fact he drank nearly as much as you.
“No, you don’t have to. Go, have some more fun.”
“It’s okay.”
“You sure?” you raised your eyebrows.
“Yes.” 
Soon your urge to puke went away so you fell asleep. 
The morning came quicker than you wanted. Your head was pounding and you felt sick. What you didn’t expect was to wake up to the black-haired boy sleeping on the floor beside your bed. You couldn’t help yourself but stare at the beautiful being sleeping in front of you.  
No worries, no school, no quiddi- “Quidditch!!” you shouted “Sirius wake up! Wake up, idiot!” you screamed, throwing a pillow in his face.
“What?!”
“Quidditch, Sirius, quidditch” 
He looked at you confused.
“Practice, James saying it was important, don’t you remember??”
“Oh, shit!”
“YES! We have exactly five minutes to get ready. Oh God, my head! Do you have any painkillers?
“Yes, in my dorm. We get ready and then meet me down in five?"
“Yes, now go!”
As fast as you could, you got ready, took your broom, and ran down the stairs. Sirius was already waiting for you with a water bottle and three pain killers. “Thanks.”
“No worries, now run.”
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“Where have you been!?! You’re late!”
“I know, I’m so sorry James”
“Do you even have a good excuse? I told you this training is very important!”
“Does hangover count?” half-joked, half asked Sirius.
“What? Oh, the party. No, it doesn’t count! And where even were you, you didn’t come back to our dorm last night.”
The boy looked at you and then started speaking “In girls’ dorm.”
“What were you- You know what I don’t wanna know, just get ready quick!”
You quickly swallowed the medications, saddled the broom, and pushed yourself from the ground. 
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The practice was quite enjoyable. The fresh air helped with your headache. Or was it just the medications, you didn’t know. The ending of the practice was approaching when James called you all down for a quick word. 
“So, many of you are probably wondering why the hell was this training so important. No, it wasn’t just because I wanted to have it, it was also because professor Mcgonagall informed me, that Hufflepuff’s seeker broke her arm, so they can’t play in their game against Slytherin next week. Which means that we have to play instead of them. 
You enjoyed playing quidditch. Tho matches against Slytherin were never fun. It always ended with at least half of the team in the hospital wing. By any chance, that half of the team often included you. The raven-haired boy, who stood next to you, bumped your shoulder.
“Excited for the game, y/l/n”
“I don’t know, these matches always end the same.”
“With injuries and annoyed Madam Pomfrey.” you two said in sync. The laughter filled your lungs, echoing through the changing room.
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The week went through pretty boring yet normal. Lessons, tons of homework, intense practices, a couple of pranks, and fun evenings with friends. Saturday came again quickly and nerves settled into your body. You were tense, anyone could see that from a mile away. You tried to eat, but your stomach refused. 
“Come on darling, relax.” said Sirius massaging your shoulders and neck.
“I don’t even know why I’m so stressed, it’s just a normal game. But I have a feeling something will go terribly wrong!”
“Hey, hey, look at me” whisper- yelled Sirius. “Everything is going to be okay. You’ll do good, I’ll do good, James’ll do good.” staring at those beautiful grey eyes of his, you calmed. They took your worries away and your lips formed a gentle smile. His expression soon mirrored yours, looking away from you.
“Thank you so much Pads, I have no idea how you do it but it works. You’re the only person that can calm me.” He would probably throw some flirty remark back if James hadn’t cut him off.
“Attention, attention my dear teammates. The match will take place at 9.30 so we have exactly 30 minutes-”
“29″
“29 minutes, thank you, Williams, to get ready. So lift your ass up, take your brooms and lets go to changing rooms!” James yelled, clearly determined to win today's game. He can be sweet and nice but when it comes to quidditch there is no joke.
When you changed into quidditch ropes the team went through all your tactics again. Soon enough you heard Madam Hooch's whistle that announced the game is gonna begin. Two captains shook hands, roughly than they should.
The game was pretty tight Gryffindor only leading by 10 points. If James doesn't catch the snitch soon you're all screwed.
"Williams throwing a quaffle to y/n, y/n passing it to Andrews and Andrews right back to y/n... And y/n scores!! The result is now 180 for Gryffindor and 160 for Slytherin." Right as the commentator announced your goal you saw James diving after something very small, something golden... a snitch! "And Potter caught the snitch, Gryffindor wins!!" Loud cheering was heard from all directions. Cheering people in scarlet and gold, some Gryffindors some even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.
Right as you were about to land someone knocked you from your broom. As you started falling you saw a familiar face behind you. You didn't give it much a thought tho as blackness took over all your senses.
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The moment you woke up you felt a pair of familiar hands around your own. Your head was pounding, your vision was blurry and you had to blink a couple more times than normal. You tried to sit up but your body strongly disagreed.
"Siri? What happened?" the black-haired boy quickly looked up and a smile formed on his face.
"You're awake, thank god." he said with such a caring voice and your stomach immediately started doing flips. "You were diving when somebody knocked you off your broom. Nobody saw who it was tho." as the memories started forming themselves in your mind you remembered who you saw. It was Goyle.
"I know who it was. But you have to promise me you won't do anything stupid!" Sirius' face darkened. Hesitatingly he said "I promise. Now please tell me."
"It was Goyle." Goyle has always been short-tempered. He probably couldn't take the Slytherin's loss so he took his anger out on you.
"I'm gonna kill him! That son of a bitch. I knew it, I knew it!!"
"Sirius Black! You promised you won't do anything stupid. Now please calm down. Nothing bad happened."
"Nothing bad happened?! Y/n you're in a hospital wing!"
"Yea, but I'm okay." That was obviously a lie. Every part of your body hurts. With every move, every word, something hurts. As you could saw, Sirius didn't buy it but decided to play along anyway.
"Oh, you're okay? Fine, then please sit up for me."
Again you tried but couldn't do it. "I can't."
"Oh, I know you can't." a smirk appeared on his face but was soon replaced with a worried expression. "You fell from 8 meters, you can't be okay."
"You know me too well, it's creepy really. You know more about me than I do myself." he laughed, leaving you no other choice than to join him.
"Please don't make me laugh, it hurts." you said through chuckles and pain.
Soon enough, you both calmed down and a comforting silence fell over you two. That was until Sirius interrupted "You got me worried there, you know."
"I'm sorry."
"It wasn't your fault what in the world are you sorry for, love?"
"Don't know. For destroying a happy feeling after our win?"
"You didn't. I'm just happy you'll be okay." he smiled. Overwhelmed with emotions you said something you didn't intend to. "I love you."
"I love you too."
"No Sirius, I'm in love with you." no stopping now, you thought. He was caught by surprise, hundreds of thoughts running through his mind. You miss judged the silence, looking away with glassy eyes. He broke out of his thoughts by the sight of you almost crying.
"I- I'm in love with you too."
"What?" you have to hear him say it again. Was this just your head playing with you? You waited so long for these words to come out of his mouth, you didn't know if they were real.
"I love you too." he said right before pressing his lips against yours. It didn't take you long to melt into the kiss. Your lips felt like they were made for each other.
Like you two were made for each other.
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brownies
i know i said i would be bringing out angel part 3 but i hit a block and became inspired so i wrote a little drabble about baking with Pedro.
@innerstrawberrypolice​ this ones for you bebita
pedro x reader domestic
warning: age gap (legal) mild swearing and minor discussion about animosity between parents. also 2020. 2020 needs a warning. 
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Being with Pedro in quarantine seemed like a blessing at first, I mean, it was your boyfriend Pedro. You didn’t really consider when you agreed to it, that neither of you could or liked cooking, you’d been ordering in everyday for months with the occasional ramen noodles or pancakes. But in the middle of June, you truly missed baking.
             “my darling how would you feel about risking our lives at Walmart for ingredients to bake brownies?” you said in the sweetest tone hoping that he would be willing.
             “baby we have ingredients for brownies here!” he yelled from the other room, you knew he didn’t want to leave the house, especially for something so trivial.
             “actually, we don’t, we don’t even have eggs, come on we need to go grocery shopping.”
“its 9:30 at night we don’t need to go grocery shopping right now.” Walking back into the kitchen as he replied.
             “fine ill go by myself, you wait here, I don’t want you getting sick, your old man heart couldn’t handle it.” You quipped hoping some banter would alight enough fire in him to take you to the store.
             There was no secret that there was an age gap between you and Pedro, it wasn’t a crazy one. Okay yes it was mildly crazy, but it was legal, and you were happy together, to hell with what other people said, your parents included. His friends and family had been so welcoming and accepting that your mother calling you a gold-digging whore didn’t even seem to faze either of you.
             As you started walking away towards the front door Pedro grabbed you by the waist and spun you to face him, “listen, mi amor, I am not old, I am wise a silver fox.” He said looking down on you with a smirk, he moved his head to your neck trailing kisses up towards your jaw. As you tilted your head back you remarked, “ahh by you see my love, you being a silver fox comes with the added necessity of you being old, you cant be silver if you’re not old.” He pulled away from you to look down at you and say, “alright fine would you like to go get brownie ingredients or would you like to keep teasing me about my age, and my I remind you that you’re the one fucking this old man.”
             “brownies please,” once again melding into your sweet innocent voice, “but we really do need to get groceries. Maybe I can tease you in the car?”
             “don’t be a smart ass we’ll get groceries tomorrow now go get your mask.” God, I hate 2020.
               The drive to the store was filled with, as promised, more teasing from you, and more dirty remarks from Pedro about ‘well I can’t be that old, my dick still works” to which you replied something along the lines of “pull over and we’ll test that out.” Which then in turn made Pedro choke on air and nearly hit another car. Maybe road head wasn’t a good idea.
             As you jumped out of the car seat you all but pranced to the store entrance waiting there for Pedro to catch up. When he finally did, he took your hand leading you through the door, once inside though you were the one pulling him, directly to the baking goods isle.
             “okay so we need flour, eggs, sugar, powdered sugar, butter chocolate chips, sunflower oil and Dutch cocoa.” You prattled off the list of ingredients you needed to make brownies, “ooh and milk!”
             Pedro leaned in close to your ear and whispered in a hush and gruff voice “or, we could get box mix and then get home sooner so I could show you how young I am.” And understanding what he was implying, you ran the boxed batters, grabbed the first one you saw and ran back to him. “okay got it lets go. Now.”
             You realised halfway to the registers that you needed more than just the box to bake brownie, and so what was supposed to be just eggs and butter and milk, turned into a basket full of things you just had to have right that second or you would die, as Pedro put it.
             Finally arriving home, you unpacked and placed everything where they needed to be and finally you were ready to start baking.
             “okay, now I must warn you that if you get in my way and don’t listen to my instructions you will not be licking the batter, from the bowl, no do not look at me like that mister you won’t be licking it off my body either. (spoiler alert yes, he will be.) “alright carina lets get baking, come on.”
             You really didn’t expect the entire affair to be so messy, but this was your Pedro we were talking about, the man has every childish bone in him, it was messy, but it was fun. And within 20 minutes of threatening to crack eggs on each other’s head you were both sitting on the floor, in front of the oven with Edgar, all three of you eagerly peering into the over waiting for the brownies to bake. You were laying back against Pedro, both of you whispering beautiful things about, “this is the life I always dreamed I would have.” And “me too, it was worth the wait.” You couldn’t help but think. God, I love this year.  
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13uswntimagines · 4 years
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Your sister is who? (USWNT X Swift!Reader)
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Hey Dudes, this is my first USWNT imagine. I’m considering writing more one shots from this universe but I haven’t decided yet. I’m totally open to requests and suggestions of things that you guys would like to see! All mistakes are 100% my own, and I hope you enjoy! Also reader is the baby of the team.
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
You loved your family more than anything in the world, but that didn’t mean that you always loved your last name. You had never been the most outgoing person in your 17 years on earth, but you had honestly never needed to be. The only part of you that most people were interested in was your last name, so you had learned to fade into the background and let your older sister work her social butterfly magic. Unless you were on the Soccer Pitch. That was your happy place. Who you were didn’t matter. You were only judged on your ability to get around the defenders and bury the ball into the net, which was something that you excelled at if you did say so yourself. The pitch was the only place in the world where you were more than simply Taylor Swift’s little sister, and you wanted to keep it that way.
Maybe that was why you had introduced yourself to the USWNT as simply Y/n, conveniently forgetting to add the Swift to the end. Maybe that was why you hadn’t told them who the Tay that you were texting all the time was. Maybe that was why you were so closed off anytime they had asked about your family in the past 2 months you had been on the team. Maybe that was why you were dreading the team bonding activity for the night so much. You didn’t like truth or dare to begin with, and the fact that your teammates were determined to get you to open up to them did nothing to ease the anxiety you were feeling as you sat between your self-declared team moms Alex and Kelley.
“I think I win that one” Lindsey smiled as she took a bow after finishing Sonnett’s dare. “But who should go next?” She hummed, sitting down and tapping her fingers to her chin.
“Well, the rookie hasn’t gone yet?” Megan Hummed back, smirking in your direction, laughing as you leaned a little closer to Alex, who wrapped her arm a little tighter around you.
“Ah yes, the rookie,” Lindsey smirked back. “Truth or dare rookie?” She asked, and you shrunk back a little further as you felt the eyes of the rest of the team land on you.
“Um, dare I guess?” You asked back unsure. So far, the truths had been really personal and uncomfortable questions that you had no desire to answer. At least with a dare, they couldn’t get you to reveal too much personal information.
“Brave choice kid” Ashlyn smirked, as Lindsey leaned in to listen to whatever Sonnett was whispering in her ear. The evil smile that crossed Lindsey’s face meant that whatever Emily had suggested was probably something that you really wouldn’t enjoy.
“Ok little striker, I dare you to give me free rein over your phone for 3 minutes,” Lindsey said with a chuckle. Alex immediately noticed how you tensed in her arms, your eyes growing comically wide with the implications of handing over your personal device.
“Um, that seems a little invasive don’t ya think?” You asked back quietly, praying to god that you would be able to get out of this.
“What if we set some ground rules, so nothing too bad happens?” Alex glared at where Emily and Lindsey were grinning triumphantly, rubbing your back. Those two hadn’t understood why you were so guarded, but then again neither of them was as shy as you were. They had been determined to get to know you, no matter how evasive you were. You huffed but nodded into her shoulder.
“You can go on messenger and photos, but not my social media.” You said back firmly, attempting to compromise with the women who were grinning like Cheshire cats. You were just glad that you had decided to use nicknames for all your contacts, at least they wouldn’t know who they were talking too. And your photos pretty much consisted of landscapes you had seen during each stop of your sister’s tours. You had never liked people, but you loved nature so that was what you filled your phone up with.
“Include the facetime app, we get five minutes and you have a deal.” Lindsey smiled, sticking her hand out for the phone. You huffed again, causing several of the girls to coo at how cute you looked, and handed over the desired device. Kelley laughed and pulled her own phone out to act as the timer.
You watched with worried eyes as most of the team got up to crowd around your device and Lindsey began to thumb through your phone. You glanced at the clock, praying that the time would tick by faster and that they wouldn’t find something that you didn’t want them to.
“You’re no fun kid,” Megan mumbled as she watched Lindsey scroll through the crazy names that adorned your contact list.
“Alright, Who’s Tay?” Lindsey asked after 30 seconds of scrolling, glancing over to you.
“It’s Taylor” You groaned.
“Who’s Taylor?” Emily asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you.
“No, one” You responded far too quickly, your cheeks turning a deep shade of red.
“So you tell no one that you love them all the time?” Megan hummed disbelieving as you tried to hide even further into Alex’s neck, and Kelley’s hand began to rub comforting circles on your back.
“Just tell us who he is, and we’ll leave you alone” Mal laughed at your discomfort, the memories of her rookie year still very fresh in her mind.
“It’s not a he. It’s my sister.” You said quietly. The room went silent at the admission, the eyebrows of your teammates furrowing. Some not understanding why having a sister named Taylor was such a big deal, and other’s trying to figure out why you had been so reluctant to give up such a small piece of information.
“Wait. The name on your uniform is Swift.” Someone said, breaking the tension in the room. You nodded slowly, whining as Alex attempted to remove you from your hiding spot.
“So that means that Taylor is Taylor Swift. As in The Taylor Swift” Emily nearly yelled back. Your Y/E/C orbs peaked out of Alex’s neck to meet the wide eyes of your teammates as you sent them yet another small nod.
“There’s no fucking way dude.” Lindsey snorted, shooting you a disbelieving look, causing you to laugh.
“Well, there is a way cause I exist so…” You shrugged, sending her a shy smile, as several indistinguishable questions were thrown your way from your shocked teammates.
“I’m going to call her to prove it.” She said, glancing back towards your phone, and you sucked in a deep breath.
“She’s probably in a meeting or something” you mumbled, returning to your hiding spot. You hadn’t intended this. Your phone rang out with telltale sounds of a facetime call, and your heart speeding up at the sound that signaled that someone had picked up.
“Hey kiddo, everything alright?” Taylors concerned voice filled the room, and the team gasped.
“Holy Shit you’re actually The Taylor Swift,” Emily said shocked, her mouth hanging open.
“Guilty as charged, and you must be The Emily Sonnett?” Your sister giggled, as Lindsey reached over and closed Emily’s mouth.
“You know who I am. How do you know who I am?” Emily began to fangirl, flapping her arms excitedly as the room burst into laughter.
“Y/n talks about you guys all the time. Speaking of Y/N/N, where is she?” Taylor questioned, concern leaking into her voice. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the women, but Y/n wasn’t one to introduce people to her. Her little sister was a shy, smol bean, and just the fact that she hadn’t seen her yet was causing her a little anxiety. They had always been close, and Taylor would be dammed if her little sister got hurt.
“Over there hiding in Alex’s neck” Lindsey laughed back, flipping the camera to show you sitting on Alex’s lap, curled into her neck. She sighed in relief, glad that you seemed to be connecting with someone other than her, as that was never one of your strong suits.
“Hey Tay,” Alex smiled, waving as the offending phone was passed to her. The Y/E/C eyed girl peeking out to smile at her older sister. Taylor smiled back and chatted for a few minutes with Alex before she needed to go. Y/n said her goodbyes and hung up, pointedly avoiding the questioning eyes of her teammates.
“So you talk about Sonnett, do you talk about me?” Lindsey asked, wiggling her eyebrows, and you couldn’t stop your cheeks from turning impossibly redder.
“Um…” You stalled, unable to form the right words. The truth was that you might have a small, well not so small, crush on a certain defender. It was kinda hard when she was a literal ball of sunshine all of the time, and your sister had given you great advice so far. The problem was that you were too much of a wus to do anything about it, and you were utterly convinced that the age difference left you with a 0% chance.
“Leave her alone guys,” Alex said sternly, tightening her arm around you and leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Why didn’t you tell me that I knew your sister?” She said quietly, rocking you back and forth.
You sighed. “Cause I wanted you guys to know me for my soccer skills and not who my family is.” You responded equally as quietly as if talking any louder would break you.
“Trust me, kid, we know all about your soccer skills” Tobin laughed, causing you to smile. You may or may not have nutmegged the nutmeg queen during practice, several times.
“But why would you hide?” Christen asked gently, moving towards you and Alex.
“People hear the name Swift and it’s like I don’t even exist. I mean, I’ve met all of you guys before and none of you even remember that. I mean I love Taylor, but soccer is my thing and I wanted it to stay that way.” You murmured, ashamed. You loved Taylor and you were incredibly proud of her, but for just this once you wanted to be known for who you are and not who your sister was.  
“You’ve met us before?” Kelley said in disbelief. How had they met you and not remembered it? Sure, you were a little shy, but you were incredibly sweet and adorable. Plus she was convinced that you would be hilarious once they got you to come out of your shell.
“When she invited you on the stage during the 1989 Tour. She did it because I was such a huge fan of you guys.” You answered back, staring down at your hands. She had felt guilty about missing your U20 championship match and had invited the team on stage to make up for it. You had been so excited, but you had once again faded into the background the moment your sister was in the room. She had tried to put you front and center, but you had been so nervous that words had been nearly impossible.
“That’s why she traded us tour merch for our signed jersey’s” Tobin put the pieces together, vividly remembering trading her jersey for a signed sweatshirt.
“Yep,” You said back, popping the p, and smiling at them.
“and you met us? Why don’t I remember that?” Megan cut back in, trying to remember that night. She remembered Taylor and going on stage, but where had you been? There was no way she would have intentionally ignored you.
“Because Taylor was there and I’m just her little sister.” You shrugged, used to the fact that Taylor cast a huge shadow, one you typically didn’t mind hiding in.
“Well, I can promise you one thing. You Y/n Swift are so much more than just Taylor’s little sister” Alex said with finality. Squeezing you tight.
“Yeah dude, you put Sonnett on her Ass during practice” Tobin laughed, as Emily pouted. It was true. Emily had been assigned to mark you, which had proven to be a very difficult task. It had taken both her and Becky to finally shut down your goal-scoring abilities.
“And got 3 goals, past Uncle.” Becky added, smiling at you, as you cuddled further into your team “mom”.
“You, my dear, are a fantastic striker, and every time you step onto the pitch you show the world that you’re on the team because you’re amazing and not because of who you’re related to,” Megan said, cooing at how adorable you were. Not that she would ever say it out loud, as they had learned early on that you hated being called adorable.
“And you guys don’t hate me for not telling you?” You asked quietly, glancing up at the 22 other women carefully watching you.
“We could never hate you kid,” Kelley grinned, bumping you with her shoulder.
“Now how bout you tell us what it’s like to The Taylor Swift as a sister?” Ali smirked at you. She was one of the few that knew exactly who you were from the first moment you had walked into camp.
“Well, her fans are crazy.” You laughed, your shoulder’s relaxing, reassured that you were so much more than just a Swift. You were a force to be reckoned with, and you couldn’t wait to show the world what you were made of.
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