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#Me and my friend from pre-school really grabbing these guys and shaking them around like a goldfish
strange-doll-child · 1 year
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Absolutely obsessed with a thing nobody but me, my friend from pre-school and a handful of my friends knows about
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ayyy-pee · 1 year
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Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Female Reader
Summary: Every choice Satoru makes just seems to be digging himself into a deeper hole. But when it comes to you, he can’t seem to help himself.
Story Warning: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Toxic Behavior, Cheating, Protected Sex (wrap it up kids), Jealousy, Obsessive Behavior, Exes to Lovers (for a lil bit), Gojo is sprung on reader real bad, Dumb Stupid Idiot Satoru, Downbad Satoru
Gojo art by: Ilameys (used with permission)
Available to read on Ao3!
AN: Gojo has been eating my brain so I had to get something out. I've been obsessively listening to LIMBO by keshi and had it on repeat writing this (listen to it if you haven't!) Anyway, enjoy!
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“Satoruuuuu,” an aggravating, whiny voice slurs. “Can you get me another drink pleaseeeee?”
“Hm? Oh, sure.”
Satoru rises from his seat on the couch, running his fingers through his silky white hair. He leaves his girlfriend to chat with her friends as he makes his way to the kitchen for yet another drink. Really, he should cut her off and take her home. She’s insufferable when she gets a drop of liquor in her, not that she’s any less annoying when she’s sober. All the whining, all the clinginess, all the slurring of his name as she wraps herself all around him. It used to be cute when they first started dating a year ago. Now it’s just suffocating. But Satoru sucks it up, though he’s not entirely sure why. Maybe because when she drinks, he doesn’t have to deal with actually trying to have a conversation with her. She’s a bit more tolerable after a few drinks. Annoying still, but less so.
He maneuvers through the crowd of the house party he’s currently attending. It’s packed, the scent of alcohol heavy in the air. Leave it to Suguru to go all out when he’s back in town. The guy invited practically everyone from their time in high school. Since arriving, Satoru’s already run into Mei Mei, Ino, Utahime (unfortunately) and surprisingly Nanami. There’s even students from the Ainu Technical School here. He had no idea Suguru even knew them. 
Regardless, Satoru is happy to see everyone. He stops every so often to chat with old classmates as he wanders towards the kitchen. Everyone seems to be doing well for themselves since graduating high school, which Satoru is glad for. No matter how life went, he always wished everyone well.
And life was good for Satoru, too. At 26 years old, he certainly couldn’t complain about much. He’d graduated from high school, gone to college, had a hell of a great time during his undergrad career, got himself a well paying cushy sales job. And he had a girlfriend that he…had been with for awhile. Life couldn’t be better for him.
So why did it always feel like something was missing?
Satoru enters the enormous kitchen and makes a beeline to the assortment of drinks lined along the built-in bar. Of course Suguru has a built-in bar in his kitchen with an array of pre-made cocktails to choose from. Always such a great host when he’s not traveling to clean up celebrity messes for his PR firm.
“Satoru!” A man’s voice sings behind him as an arm slings across his shoulders. 
“Haibara,” Satoru greets him. “Back for another drink?”
Satoru grabs one of the plastic party cups from the counter and pours one of the cocktails into it; something fruity and syrupy. He might’ve given it a try if the overwhelming smell of tequila didn’t burn his nostrils. He thinks of his girlfriend, knowing she will definitely feel like shit by the end of the night.
“Hm?” Haibara shakes his head, his raven hair whipping with the movement. “No way. One is enough for me. I have early practice tomorrow. Coach says my swing needs work, so not willing to fuck that up.” Ah right. Satoru had totally forgotten that Haibara played tennis professionally now. He nods, listening to his friend fill him in on what his plans for tomorrow are. Haibara’s wide brown eyes follow Satoru’s movements as he fills his cup. “You, though? I never see you drink at these things?”
Satoru shakes his head. “Not for me. For my girlfriend.”
Haibara’s signature, open-mouthed grin spreads wide across his face. “Oh! You’re still dating her? Wow. Good for you, man.”
Something about the surprise in Haibara’s tone takes Satoru aback, brows knitting at this. “Why’d you say it like that?”
Haibara crosses his arms, his smile melting away with a sigh. “I mean…” Haibara sighs your name quietly. “The two of you were together for a long time before you broke up after high school. We all thought you’d still be together, but if you could end that relationship, I’m just a little surprised you’re still with this one. That’s all. But if you’re happy...”
Just hearing your name on Haibara’s tongue has Satoru’s stomach twisting in knots. He hasn’t seen or spoken to you in years, something he’s been wanting to change for a long time but too cowardly to do so. 
Satoru nods, giving Haibara a weak smile. He can admit that his girlfriend was…not the least bit interesting, annoying and did little for him. But he enjoyed her company sometimes.
“Just don’t be surprised if one of us leaves with Y/N tonight, though,” Haibara jokes, throwing his head back with an obnoxious chuckle. 
What?
Satoru feels his heart leap into his throat as his crystalline eyes dart rapidly over every occupant in the kitchen, only seeing the familiar faces of his old classmates and a few strangers. There’s no sign of you. Maybe Haibara was just fucking with him. 
Satoru laughs to save face, albeit awkwardly. “Funny,” he mutters, staring down into the drink meant for his current girlfriend, though now his thoughts are only occupied with you.
“Hey man, I need to get back to my girl, so I’ll catch you later,” Satoru tells his old friend.
“Yeah, later! Hey!” Haibara calls out to him and Satoru turns briefly. “Let’s get together to play some time!”
“Yeah, sure. Text me!” Satoru calls back, waving as he exits the kitchen. Unlikely, but he appreciates the effort.
Satoru shoulders through the crowd again, carefully holding onto the red cup in hand so it doesn't spill. He takes his time getting back, a new goal in mind: find you. Are you actually here? Or was Haibara just trying to mess with him? His heart pounds hard in his chest as he moves, eyes scanning every face he sees.
It’s been seven long years since Satoru last spoke to you - his first real crush, his first real girlfriend, his first time. His first everything. He wonders if you’ve thought about him at all in this time. He’d be surprised if you did. Things didn’t exactly end well between you two.
......
Seven Years Ago
You and Satoru dated all through high school. Satoru, a star athlete, played many sports and you supported him through them all, cheering for him at every game and helping him with his practice. You two were inseparable. If you weren’t at Satoru’s place, he was at yours. The love was deep between you two and a promise was made that you’d always be together.
But life didn’t always happen the way you wanted. The joy and excitement of being accepted into your dream schools did not last long when you realized you’d be going to school thousands of miles away and oceans apart. It was the first time a true test of your relationship was presented. Satoru was staying in Japan for college while you were headed overseas. Could your relationship survive the distance?
The first few months apart weren’t so bad. Satoru was making friends, excelling at school and becoming quite popular. You were also busy with your new life and hobbies. You made time for each other when you could. But it wasn’t enough. The loneliness Satoru felt without you was all consuming and it was only a matter of time before he found himself sending fewer texts, calling less, absorbed in the newness of college life.
Satoru loved you so much, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew the likelihood of a long distance relationship surviving was slim regardless of who it was. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but the trying part was becoming more burdensome than he wanted.
And it wasn’t as though you had done anything wrong. This feeling Satoru was experiencing was all on him. You made the effort to keep in touch, to call when you could. And you still wanted it to work. But if Satoru were honest, he just wanted to enjoy his time in school without the constant worry of pleasing someone who he never saw unless it was behind a screen. It was selfish of him, but he wanted to have fun. This was a new world and he wanted to be free to explore it.
So he ended things.
He’ll never forget the quiet sobs on the other end of the phone as he sat in silence after uttering the words, “I don’t think this is going to work out anymore”.
His heart ached listening to your hushed pleas for him to not do this, to not end things this way. But it was for the best. In the long run, you’d be happier. He’d be happier and what was that corny saying again?
If you love something, set it free? Satoru thinks that’s what he did that day.
And you were so upset. Rightfully so. You loved Satoru. You were each other’s first kiss, first times before you left for college, first loves. You’d quite literally given everything to each other. But Satoru couldn’t commit to you anymore. He didn’t want to. He wanted to enjoy college, live his life. It may be selfish of him, but he didn’t see it that way. It was his chance to grow. 
Even after all of your pleading, he stuck to his guns. It was torture, listening to you tearfully beg him not to do this to you. He had to end this.
So he told you he’d met someone else, that he couldn’t be with you anymore because there was another woman he wanted to be with. The stretch of silence was painful, Satoru quietly waiting to see if you had anything to add. The call ended with you hanging up in his face with only a choked sob as the last thing he’d heard. 
Adjusting to life without you proved difficult at first. Satoru isn’t embarrassed to admit he moped around campus for a while before he was able to start trying to move on. After that, the next few months of college were great. Satoru was Mr. Popular, quickly rising to the top of his collegiate sports team. He was the life of any party he went to, the center of attention wherever he went. 
Life should’ve felt perfect. 
But as the months passed, Satoru found his mind occupied with the thought of you at the worst times. 
While his professor discusses marketing strategies, Satoru’s mind wanders to you. 
What are you doing right now? 
When he’s at practice getting berated by the coach for poor blocking form, he knows he can’t tell him it’s because he’s distracted by the thought of you.
Who are you with? 
When he’s giving another girl his number at a party, planning to hook up later, he pushes back the memory of the first time he’d spoken to you. 
Where are you?
When he finds himself between another girl's legs that same night, he squeezes his eyes shut, picturing you and biting his tongue as he tries his best not to moan your name.
Do you still think about him?
The months soon stretch into a year and Satoru hopes this intense yearning he has for you will just fade away. He’s not so lucky. If anything, he thinks about you more. He checks your social media profiles to find you’ve removed him as a friend on everything. Of course you did. He ripped your heart in two. There was no way you’d allow him access back into your life. Your accounts are all private, so he can’t see anything and he’s not willing to ask a mutual friend about what you’ve been up to. It only makes him a little bit crazy that you’ve put up this wall between you two so he has no access to you. 
Another six months pass and Satoru works up the nerve to text you for the first time since you’d broken up. He hopes you’ll reply. It’s been more than a year. You can’t possibly still be upset, can you? He can admit that he could have handled the way he ended things better, sure. But if he can get past it, you can too, right?
You never respond.
More months pass by and soon another year. One late night, Satoru slips into his apartment after a failed hookup. He pulls his phone out, scrolling through his contacts to find your name. You didn’t reply to his last text. He doubts you’ll respond to this one, but he takes a deep breath and shoots off a message to you before he changes his mind.
Days later, you finally respond. You chat for a while, sending messages back and forth. Generic things, really. Just catching up. Until one night Satoru musters up the courage to call you.
“Hello?” You answer. There’s soft music in the background and Satoru wonders what you’re up to. Are you home? Maybe you’re relaxing and the music is on for background noise. Or maybe you’re with someone, listening to music to set the mood. There’s an unpleasant twist that forms in his stomach at the thought.
“Hey,” he says easily, though he can barely hear your voice over the rapid pounding of his heart. “I figured a phone call may be easier than just texting. What are you doing?”
“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” He hears you shuffling around, then the quiet click of a door closing as the music fades out. “I’m actually at a friends for dinner.”
A friend. He wants to ask more about your friend, but he knows he has no right to that information anymore. 
“Sorry to interrupt your night,” he tells you, hoping his voice doesn’t betray how tense he is. His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest.
“It’s fine. I have a couple minutes to spare.” You sound relaxed. Like speaking to Satoru doesn’t have the same effect on you as it does on him. Like talking to him is just like talking to anybody else. He knows it’s his own fault it’s this way, but it still stings. “Did you need something?”
You.
That’s what Satoru wants to say. More than anything, he wants to tell you that he wants you back, that he needs you back. He wants to tell you he made a mistake breaking up with you, that he’s so sorry. He wants to ask that you’ll please forgive him. 
Satoru wants to say he regrets his decision to call it quits. Wants to admit that he should have made more of an effort to make it work out and not have been so fucking weak. He wants to tell you that if you’re willing to give it another try he is, too.
That’s what he wants.
Because after everything, he still l–
“Satoru?” You repeat your question and Satoru realizes he’s let the silence hang in the air between you both for far too long.
“Oh, I jus–”
“Babe? Dinner’s ready. Do you want any wine with yours?” A deep voice cuts through the quiet and Satoru feels his heart drop hearing someone else call you by the name that was once meant for only his use. He hears soft shuffling and hushed whispers and a “sorry, I thought you were off the phone, babe. You were quiet–”
He can tell you’ve muted your phone. He can’t hear anything anymore. The looming silence makes Satoru want to hang up on you so he can swallow the bitterness he feels. So you had moved on, found someone else who gets to treat you the way Satoru should have. It’s fair. It’s been years since you two had broken up. You’d barely started speaking again. Of course you would find someone new. You were perfect and anyone would be an idiot to let you go. Much like Satoru was.
His thumb lingers over the end call button on his screen…and then you’re back just before he presses it.
“Sorry about that,” you breathe. “Anyway, did you need something, Satoru?”
“That your friend?” Satoru asks, ignoring your question completely. He can’t even pretend it’s not because he wants to know who the hell was calling you ‘babe’.
You clear your throat. “No, ah…that’s my boyfriend,” you finally tell him.
The silence falls over you again for a few seconds, Satoru trying to find his words. Again, it’s fair for you to date someone else. Satoru had ended things. He lost his right to be jealous when he did. And yet, against his better judgment, he leans into the bitterness he felt moments ago, forcing out a laugh. “Good! Oh, that’s good for you. Glad you found someone.”
“...Thanks?”
Satoru hums. “Yeah. I mean, glad we both moved on. I was actually worried when I was calling that you’d still be hung up on me or something.” He winces, but laughs awkwardly again. Knows he just shot himself in the foot. Maybe you’ll just laugh it off, take it as a bad joke.
“Yeah.” Your voice is clipped, short. “Okay, well, it was great catching up with you, Satoru. I have to go now.”
Fuck fuck fuck.
“Got it. Well, have fun at your din–”
The line goes dead.
Satoru tosses his phone to the side, throws himself back on his bed with a groan. 
“Idiot.”
You don’t return any more of his calls or texts.
......
Present
Satoru’s feet carry him through the crowd, conversation drifting through the air. He can hear Utahime yelling at Suguru and Satoru resists the damn near instinctual urge to turn towards the screeching so he can join Suguru in whatever antics set her off. It’s always funny seeing how red her face gets. He also hears the sounds of Shoko’s airy laugh as she catches up with Nanami and Ijichi. An odd group, he thinks, but Satoru doesn’t have time to dwell on it because he hears the sweet sound of your laugh and–
Wait.
He stops in his tracks, the drink in his hand sloshing with the abrupt halt. He turns his head to peer over the crowd, but he doesn’t see anything, doesn’t see you. Maybe his mind is playing tricks on him. There’s no way you’d actually be here. You’re overseas. At least, he thinks you may be overseas. That’s the last thing he knew about you for certain. Satoru’s not sure what you’re up to these days. He hasn’t asked, afraid of what the answer will be. He’s not sure he could handle knowing you’re potentially engaged or happily married. Hell, he’s not sure he could handle knowing if you’re dating someone. 
His piercing blue gaze finally lands on you and he realizes Haibara was actually not joking about someone potentially leaving with you tonight. Because you’re right there, off to the side of the crowd with some man, giggling at whatever he’s saying.
Satoru knows it’s you, even from a distance. He couldn’t mistake those beautiful eyes for anyone else's, the way they crinkle ever so slightly in the corners when you smile. He could never mistake those luscious, glossed lips he loved to kiss. You’re all smiles, as stunning as he remembers.
Everything keeps moving as time seems to stand still only for Satoru, his eyes never leaving you. And he knows he’s at this party with someone else. That’s what he should be focused on, but you’re all he cares about right now. His gaze locks onto your lips, following the curve of your smile, the way your tongue darts out just a bit to run along your bottom lip, the way those lips form your words. 
You may still hate him after all this time, but Satoru wants to talk to you. He almost wants to get just close enough for you to notice him. Maybe you’ll make the first move and talk to him.
‘What the fuck am I doing?’ He thinks, lips pursed in concentration.
He should get back to his actual girlfriend. He’s been gone for too long. She’s bound to come looking for him if he doesn’t get back to her soon. Yeah, he’ll just go back. Talking to you won’t be good for him anyway –
The man you’re speaking to leans forward, his lips moving to your ear and Satoru, with his eyes still glued to your lips, feels his blood boil as he watches them part with what he’s pretty sure is a sigh. When he sees your hand come up to lay on the other man’s arm, his nostrils flare with irritation. When you smirk at what the man is whispering, he feels his jaw tighten. And when the other man’s hand comes to land on your waist, Satoru’s feet move before he even realizes what he’s doing.
As he approaches, the man steps away, a slick grin on his face and you roll your eyes, shaking your head and giggling. Are you actually flirting with this guy? It’s only as he gets closer that Satoru can better make out who it is; poorly done bleach job, shitty eyeliner around his eyes, and too many ear piercings. It’s just Naoya Zenin. From what Satoru remembers, you hated that fucker all of high school.
Unless something’s changed and suddenly you’re into him? Is this who you’re dating now?
Satoru wants to be pissed, but this may work in his favor. If you could be on good terms with Naoya, who you absolutely despised for as long as you’d known him, then maybe you had room in your heart to forgive him for being such a piece of shit to you all those years ago.
Your eyes drift over to Satoru as he approaches you both. And you hardly react, only offering him a small smile before your attention drifts back to Naoya. And though a tiny curve of your lips is something, the lack of a reaction kind of annoys the shit out of him.
“Hey,” Satoru greets, mainly directed towards you because fuck Naoya.
“Hi, Satoru.” You fold your arms over your chest, eyes coming back to meet his. God, you’re as pretty as Satoru remembers you being. This close to you, Satoru can see how much you’ve changed. And time has been very good to you. You’re still beautiful in the youthful way Satoru remembers, but you’re grown now. His eyes trail down your frame quickly, drinking in the way you’ve filled out.
“Gojo…” Naoya says with clear disdain in his voice.
“Zenin.”
And it’s quiet now. Awkward. But it doesn’t matter to Satoru. His eyes are only on you.
You pull your gaze away from Satoru and back to Naoya.
“You look great,” Satoru tells you, sipping the drink meant for his girlfriend to keep himself from potentially following up with something stupid. He grimaces slightly at the taste before trying to cover it with a lopsided grin.
And you give him the same grin back, a little shy. It’s cute.
“Thanks, Satoru. You look good, too.”
“I didn’t know you were back in town.”
“Yeah, I’ve been back for a few months now. Just settling back in and working,” your brows knit together as you lean to the side to glance around Satoru. “I’m surprised Suguru didn’t tell you since I just had lunch with him like two days ago.”
He realizes you must be looking for Suguru when you straighten your stance again. Deep in his mind, Satoru makes a mental note to have a word with Suguru about this later. Next to him, Naoya snorts and Satoru has to resist saying something that will surely end with them in a fight. You must sense the tension because you ask Naoya if he can grab you a drink which prompts an eye roll from him, but he goes anyway. 
“Doubt he’ll be back,” you mutter to Satoru with a smirk. “That asshole wants to hook up so bad it’s pathetic,” a soft chuckle rushes past your lips.
“Not interested, then?” Satoru jokes, a smile spread across his face.
You narrow your eyes, “Ha ha. You know I hate that guy. He won’t be back anyway. No way he’s gonna waste time getting a drink for someone who isn’t fucking him at the end of the night.”
If you weren’t still watching Naoya push his way through the crowd of partygoers, you may have seen Satoru visibly deflate.
“Ah, good to know you haven’t lowered your standards,” Satoru says and you laugh. The sound makes Satoru’s head spin. It’s been so long since he’s heard it.
“I don’t think my standards could ever be low enough to fuck Naoya,” you clarify, nose crinkling in disgust. Satoru chuckles at your reaction, watching as you shift uncomfortably before him. You fidget with the hem of your dress before you speak again.
“It’s actually really good to see you, Satoru.”
“Is it really?”
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to reach out for a while. Life just got away from me.”
Satoru’s brows lift in surprise. “Reach out for what?” Your eyes are boring into his, wide and surveying, peering into his soul. Just the way they always did. 
“I just felt like things left off on such a sour note with us. And you reached out trying to build a friendship and at the first sign of things getting weird, I just…ran. Didn’t look back. You were trying and I wasn’t. You didn’t deserve that.”
He knows you’re referring to the last time you’d spoken, though he’s not sure why you’re the one trying to apologize.
“And I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being a terrible friend to you.”
You always were way too sweet to him. He didn’t deserve that.
“I should be apologizing to you,” Satoru shakes his head. “I was still jealous back then. When I said I was worried you were still hung up on me, it’s because I was trying to cover up the fact that I was still hung up on you. Hearing your boyfriend call you babe–”
“Ex-boyfriend,” you interrupt, a soft smile gracing your features. Satoru smirks.
“Hearing your ex-boyfriend call you babe, it just…made me feel a lot of things I didn’t understand at the time. I shouldn’t have said what I did to set you off. I’m sorry.”
It’s only been a few minutes of you talking and it already feels like a weight has been lifted, like the wall you put up all those years ago has come down. You both must look strange, just standing off in the corner alone staring and smiling at each other like you’re the only two people in the room. 
You talk a bit more, catch up on life. It doesn’t take long for things to feel comfortable between you two again - for your bodies to move a little closer, for your eyes to meet more often, for your shy touches to linger a little longer.
You’ve got your hand wrapped around Satoru’s forearm, snickering at something he’s said. And when you glance up at him, there’s something in your eyes telling him it’s okay to ask this. Because Satoru is happy to know you’re not interested in Naoya, even happier to know you’ve broken up with your college boyfriend, but what he wants to know now is –
“Are you seeing anyone? Dating, I mean,” He asks while he still has the nerve and tries not to let his eyes fall to your mouth when you shake your head and draw your lower lip between your teeth. 
“Nope, single and just enjoying life honestly. You?”
Yes.
“Me?” Satoru asks.
Say yes, stupid.
You nod. “Yeah, you. Are you with someone?”
Yes. Yes.
“Uhh, well…”
YES.
The voice in his head is screaming the answer, the one he knows he should give you. The one that would confirm to Satoru that even after everything he’s done, he’s not a shitty person, not a terrible boyfriend. But when he looks at you, eyes shining up at him with those pretty lips curled into a smirk, he doesn’t want anything more than to be with you.
God, he’s such a piece of shit. He knows it. He’s not even thinking about his girlfriend still sitting around waiting for him to come back. He’s got tunnel vision and the only thing he sees is you.
Say yes!
“I…am not…with someone.”
......
The door to Suguru’s master bathroom slams shut, your back pressed against it as Satoru’s lips find your neck, licking a long strip from your collarbone up to your chin. 
“Ah- Toru, the door. Lock the door,” you gasp, threading your fingers into his soft tresses to pull him down for a kiss. His fingers fumble around before he finds the lock, quickly turning before he breaks the kiss to focus on your neck again, kissing and sucking, marking anywhere he can. Your hands move to glide underneath his shirt, fingers grazing over his defined muscles and you sigh just as Satoru moves away from your neck to press his lips against yours.
Soft. So soft. It’s been so long since Satoru’s had you like this. He’d forgotten your taste, your smell and right now, it feels like he can’t get enough. Fuck the liquor, he’s drunk on you.
“Can I touch you?” Satoru breathes against your mouth. And you nod, kissing him again. He groans as your lips part, tongue slipping out to glide against his lips, seeking entry. And he obliges, gives you all the access you want as your tongues tangle together. You moan into his mouth, the sound shooting straight to his cock.
The dress you’re wearing is nice, simple but fits your body beautifully. Satoru can’t wait to get underneath it. He reaches down, pulling the hem of your dress up until it’s sitting at your waist. He slips his hand into your panties, hissing when he feels how soaked you are.
“So wet for me,” Satoru whispers into the kiss. “You want me that bad, baby?”
You nod, panting hard. “Yeah, so bad, Satoru,” you moan when his fingers glide through your slick fold, back arching off the door. “Fuck, I want you so bad.”
“I’m yours, baby.”
His lips crash into yours again, fingers working tight circles against your clit. You cry out, your hands balling into fists as you cling to Satoru’s shirt. He breaks the kiss, pressing his face into your neck as one of his fingers finds your entrance, plunging in slowly. Your mouth opens with a gasp as Satoru pumps into you, curling his finger until he finds your sweet spot.
He pulls back, watches your face as he slips another finger inside. He likes the way your legs shake when he turns his fingers a certain way. And the way your back arches off the door when he presses his thumb to your clit. It’s all new to him, these reactions you’re giving. You were a lot younger when you’d first become intimate. Now, it’s clear you’re much more experienced. The thought bothers and excites Satoru.
He pulls his fingers from your core, kissing you when you poke your lip out in a pout. And then he’s bending you over the bathroom sink, pushing your dress even higher before he slips his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulls them down.
“Fuck, I never thought I’d see you like this again,” he groans, palming himself through his pants.
“Toru, stop wasting time and fuck me, please.”
You’re a lot more demanding now too, apparently. He doesn’t mind.
“Did you miss me?” Satoru asks, because he’s dying to know. Did you think about him when you were with your boyfriend? Were you trying not to cry out Satoru’s name when you fucked him? Did you want him back as much as he wanted you?
Satoru unbuttons his jeans, pulls his pants and boxers down together, hissing as his cock springs free. He’s so fucking hard, he could cum just looking at you bent over the sink like this. But Satoru wants to savor you, wants to enjoy this moment of having you again for the first time in so long. He reaches over and pulls open one of the bathroom drawers, fishing around until he finds a condom and he mentally thanks Suguru for always being prepared.
“Tell me,” he demands, wrapping a hand around his length. He strokes himself lazily as he rips the condom open. He rolls the condom down his length, lining himself up with your entrance. “Did you miss me?”
You’re so patient, waiting quietly for Satoru. Although, he can hear your breathing becoming a little harsher in anticipation. Satoru moves behind you, lines himself up with your entrance and just before he’s about to roll his hips forward, he glances up to see his reflection in the mirror with you bent over and ready for him.
“Look at me,” he says. You look up, watching him through the reflection. Even in the dim lighting of the bathroom, Satoru can see your pupils blown wide with lust matching his own. He wants to see you, wants to see your face when you take him for the first time in so long.
“Look at me,” he tells you again.
“Okay,” you breathe.
“Tell me you missed me,” Satoru quietly demands as he pushes forward, sliding the tip through your folds and sinking in slowly.
“Fuuuuuuck,” your mouth falls slack with a moan. Satoru’s hands find your waist, holding your curves as he sinks into you. “I missed you, Toru. So much, so fucking much.”
“God, baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear you say that.”
He’s halfway in and he has to stop to catch his breath because hearing you moan his name like that…He may not make it all the way in without blowing his load right into the condom. You’re suffocating him, clenching onto his cock so hard he’s almost afraid to move.
“Satoru, please. Don’t stop,” you plead. He meets your gaze in the mirror again, sees the way your eyes burn with desire. Satoru pulls his hips back until only his tip sits inside you and then he rolls his hips forward, burying himself as deep in your cunt as he can.
Your walls clench down on his cock and he moans again before he starts to move, pounding into you at an unrelenting pace. You cry out his name and he keeps moving, not letting up.
Satoru brings a hand around your neck, holding your head in place so he can look at you through the mirror. He sinks into you, bending down to kiss along your neck, your shoulders, your back as he bottoms out again and again, moaning his pleasure against you.
Satoru thinks you feel like heaven. It’s the only thing he can think when he leans back and grips on to your waist again, watching your face contort in ecstasy. Every little sound you make, every moan, every sigh, every “right there” you utter brings Satoru closer and closer to his release. 
Satoru has missed you. He’s missed the way your skin feels against his, missed the way your breath hitches in your throat when his cock hits just the right spot, missed touching and grabbing the soft curves of your beautiful body. Missed how your ass bounces with each thrust, cheeks spreading just enough to give him a glimpse of that tight little hole he’s never gotten the chance to have. And god, he hopes no one else has either. 
More than anything though, he’s missed the way you take all of him, hug him tight like you never want to let him go. Fuck, he could live inside you and never get tired of it. The thought alone, the thought of having you all to himself again has him leaning forward, moaning into the space between your shoulders as he rocks his hips against you. The loud smacking noises of Satoru’s groin meeting your ass echo throughout the bathroom, and he doesn’t care who hears. 
“Fuuuck, how are you so fucking tight, still?” Satoru groans, reminiscing on the first time he’d ever had you. An out of body experience for him, personally. Truly unforgettable.
“I’m never letting you go again,” he grunts, feeling your walls begin to flutter around him.
“Toru, I’m close,” you whimper. “So close, Toru, don’t stop.”
“Cum for me baby,” Satoru groans, hand sliding down your side to find your center again. He rubs tight circles on your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he feels your pussy squeeze down on him as you cry out his name, your release crashing over you.
It’s so tight, so fucking tight Satoru thinks he might pass out. He can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t fucking see straight, you’re gripping him so hard.
“Ah- fuck, oh fuck! I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he grits out as he pushes his cock all the way inside you, thrusting as deep as he can go as hot spurts of cum fill the condom. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against your back as you both catch your breath.
Satoru meant what he said. He never wants to let you go. He has every intention of being with you. After you’ve both come down from your highs and cleaned up, Satoru kisses you gently. He watches as you turn back to the mirror. You’re even more beautiful as you tame your messy hair, fix your makeup and adjust your dress. 
“Do you wanna get out of here?” He asks, ready to make up for years worth of lost time.
Your eyes meet in the mirror, your lips tilting with a small smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”
......
Fingers laced, you and Satoru weave through the party together. The crowd seems to have thinned out now with how late it’s getting. It’s the perfect time to get out of here with you, take you home and –
“Satoru! There you are!” A familiar voice squeals. The sound makes Satoru quickly yank his hand from your grip. You stop in your tracks, brows furrowing as you look up at him.
“What’s the matter?” You ask just as this person you don’t know bounds up to him and wraps her arms around Satoru’s neck, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek before she lets go.
And Satoru isn’t sure how he hasn’t noticed this before. It seems like some sick twist of fate that it’s only now that you’re standing next to each other that he sees how eerily similar you and his girlfriend look. It makes his stomach churn.
But his girlfriend, so drunk and so sweet, turns to you and beams as she holds out her hand to you. “Hi! I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Satoru’s girlfriend…” His stomach nearly drops into his ass. “...you are?”
God, he wishes he could teleport out of here. Or that the ground would open wide and swallow him whole, bury him 8,000 meters beneath the earth. Anything to avoid being present at this moment. He peers down at you briefly, your hand extending to shake his girlfriends for only a second. And Satoru thinks he may be imagining it, the sheer anger he can feel radiating off of your body, even as you return his girlfriend’s sweet smile.
“Satoru’s girlfriend?” You ask and he knows you’re making sure you aren’t hearing things. Because not too long ago, he told you he wasn’t tied down to anyone. “I wasn’t aware he was dating anyone.”
“Yep! Been together almost a year now,” she brags cheerily. Satoru really wishes she’d shut up for once in her damn life.
You breathe out a bitter laugh, gazing up at Satoru and he knows he’s not imagining the rage. He can see it swimming in your eyes even as you reach up, your thumb gently swiping the corner of his mouth where apparently remnants of your lip gloss remained. You hold your finger up to show him and then hold it up to show his girlfriend who five seconds ago was too drunk to notice. She seems to have sobered up quickly now, eyes focused on the lip gloss you just wiped from Satoru’s face.
You introduce yourself to her, wiping your thumb off on your dress before continuing, “And I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m the girl who just fucked your lying boyfriend in the bathroom.”
Satoru watches in ill disguised horror as you crane your next to the side, gesturing to the marks he so stupidly made along your neck in the heat of passion. His eyes find his girlfriend who stands there, mouth agape.
“Satoru told me he wasn’t seeing anyone. If I had known it wouldn’t have happened. And believe me, it won’t ever happen again.” You turn to face Satoru one last time, gritting out, “I can’t fucking believe you. After all these years, you’re still such a piece of shit, Satoru.”
You don’t wait for a response from him, turning on your heel and storming through the crowd. Satoru watches as your back retreats, not sure what the hell he’d say even if he did catch up to you. How could he explain that he lied about his girlfriend because he wanted to spend more time with you? It’s not like he planned on fucking in the bathroom, it just happened. But there was no way you were going to give him a second of your time to try and explain.
There was no coming back from this.
When he finally loses sight of you in the crowd, Satoru reluctantly brings his gaze back down to his probably soon to be ex-girlfriend and is met with a fury similar to yours. Again, the similarities are uncanny. All the love and happiness once shining in her eyes is nowhere to be found as one question hangs in the air between them.
“Satoru, what the fuck is she talking about?”
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AN: OOF, let me know what you think!
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skylarmoon71 · 1 year
Text
Lex Luthor (Smallville) AU- Extra
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The surprise from your long time friend Petey isn’t what you expect. It feels like such a long time that she left Smallville. Even longer than she’s been able to visit.
“Are you sure it’s okay Lex. I know you came to spend the weekend with me.”
He nods.
“It’s alright. I can stay a few more days. I know you miss her. I’m not going anywhere. Have fun.”
He places a kiss on your cheek and you’re practically skipping around as you go running out the door. Lex laughs. It’s one of the few times that you use a normal speed. His eyes move to his laptop, hands in his pockets.
“Guess it’s back to work.”
~~
Waiting at your dorm, you hear the familiar ding on your cell phone. When you lift your head, you catch sight of a car that you recognized in high school. Your smile is wide, because Petey’s window is rolled down.
“How is that still alive!!” You yell happily. She laughs, parking her car and basically sprinting out the door. You can’t contain your happiness. You both hug, giggles mixing in as you spin her around. When her feet land, she’s grinning.
“You got taller (Y/N).”
“Just a little. “ You boast.
“Do you want me to grab your stuff?” She shakes her head.
“I’ll get it later, let me see your campus.”
“Yes ma’am! “
You salute, taking her hand as you both venture off.
This reunion is everything you need. You show her a few cool spots that you’ve used for study sessions as well as naps. Then a tour of the different facilities. Tech room, swimming pool, great room. You pretty much check off every box.
By the time the evening rolls around you’re pulling her bag into your room. She takes notice of the empty bed in your room.
“Is your roommate ever here?”
You smile.
“Not really.”
You lean her bag at the side. Satisfied with how well the day has gone. More than anything you miss having another girl around to talk to.
“So how are things with the playboy?” Petey drops onto the bed and you roll your eyes.
“He’s not that bad. He’s changed.” She nods.
“I know.”
You turn and you expect the look she usually uses to brush off anything associated with Lex Luthor. Instead, she smiles.
“I was working an internship a few months ago. When I saw the Luthorcorp donation I sort of assumed the worst. But this time there’s really no benefit for him. I started looking up some other organizations and his company was backing a lot of them. Including the organization that Lionel used to help the Kents adopt you.”
You weren’t aware of that.
“He never told me..”
You remember how mad your father would become at the mention of Lionel. Hearing that Lex was trying to right the wrongs his father did is just another reason you’ve fallen for him.
“I know I always had it in for him. To be honest I had a good reason. But I’ve seen a lot of the work he’s done. Then when you told me he knew your secret and he protected you, it just made me realize that I misjudged him. It’s obvious that he cares about you. If you trust him, then I will too.”
It’s hard to explain how happy that makes you.
“Thank you Petey.”
She grins.
“Of course! Which brings me to my next order of business.”
Petey jumps up, heading for her bag. You wonder about what makes her smile like a Cheshire cat. When she pulls out the plastic shopping bag and tosses it, you're a bit confused.
“We’re going to help you get laid.”
Your face erupts in color.
“W-WHAT!!”
Petey laughs.
“Come on, whenever we’re on the phone you gush about him nonstop. You’ve never mentioned doing the deed so I’m assuming you’re still a pre-luthor.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you throw back the bag for her.
“W-Whatever weird stuff you have planned, I'm not doing it!”
Petey shrugs.
“Suit yourself. I just know for a fact that he’s probably been wanting too. He’s just waiting for you to make the first move.” That catches your attention, but you try not to show it.
“W-What do you mean?”
“He was in an accident and then you guys went through that whole alternate universe thing. There hasn’t been a moment with just the both of you. Am I right?”
Well she isn’t exactly wrong.
“How do you know he wants to though?”
In all honesty, it has been on your mind lately. But Petey is right, there hasn’t been a good moment where you can talk about it. Be with him. Hold him.
Touch him.
Your cheeks give away your thoughts and Petey snickers.
“Just saying, if you need help I’m right here. “
It’s annoying how easy it is for her to see through you, but she is one of your best friends after all.
“O-Okay. Tell me what to do.”
Petey gives a soft internal cheer.
“Gladly.”
~Le Time Skip~
“This is a bad idea.”
You tug at the bra self consciously. Petey was pretty adamant on setting you up. When she told you she had family in town she could stay with, you know there was not an excuse you could make to chicken out. Petey had bought the most scandalous two piece lavender lingerie set. Looking in the mirror, you tried not to squirm. This just felt so unlike you.
“What if Lex doesn’t like it..”
So many thoughts seemed to be running through your head as you stood in the bathroom of his hotel. You shake your head, trying to gather as much courage as you could.
It was now or never. You couldn’t run away now. Opening the door to the bedroom, you stepped out. Lex’s eyes were focused on the television, watching the news report. You finally pulled the door closed, hugging yourself.
“Anything g-good showing?” You question.
“Just the usu..”
His words trailed off at your attire when he finally turned your way.
Lex’s mouth fell open and you almost forgot to tell yourself that you needed to breathe. You really wish that one of your powers consisted of mind reading, because you wanted nothing more than to know what he was thinking.
~Meanwhile in Lex’s Head~
At that very moment, he was doing a prayer of gratitude.
“I would just like to say thank you for bringing me this far. If tonight is my last night, I will gladly die a happy man.”
~Back to You~
“L-Lex?”
You weren’t even sure if he'd blink properly. This was nerve wracking. You lower your head, embarrassed. You should have known this wasn’t a smart idea. You couldn’t believe you let her talk you into this.
“I-I’ll go change.”
When you lift your head, Lex’s shirt is gone and he’s right in front of you.
“W-Where did your shirt go!?!”
The better question is how did he move so fast?
He kisses your cheek.
“I think we have more pressing matters to discuss.”
The little smirk he wears is making your heart jump. When he picks you up princess style, you squeal.
“Let’s see if you really are a superhuman.”
You blush.
“W-Wait I-I’m not not mentally ready!!”
Teasing Lex Luthor was not the smartest idea. 
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tsukuyohmi · 2 years
Text
°✿ nothing is ever what it seems ⬎
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sfw kaminari denki x male!reader
fem aligned dni,  i check and i will block you
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“hey, kam... man...”
honey hues looked up from the switch in his hands, concern flooding his features as he looked up at his red haired friend. “yeah? what’s up?”
ejirou rubbed the back of his neck, eyes glancing nervously over at the the (color) haired male currently in the kitchen. he leaned down over the back of the couch, cupping a hand over his mouth as he whispered, “you should really dump him before something bad happens... i don’t wanna see you get hurt by such a punk.”
the blonde opened his mouth to respond, brow furled in severe confusion but before he could even utter a word, the other scampered off down the hall. he pursed his lips as he felt the couch dip next to him, instinctively lifting his arms for (name) to lay he head on his chest with a bowl of chips in his arms.
“eh? what did kirishima want?”
denki shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of the other’s head fondly. “nothing really... he’s just acting weird.”
“...wild.”
that wasn’t the first or last time his friends behaved odd around his boyfriend. mina approached him just before class about (name), then hanta, and even katsuki grumbled some concerns. all it did was confuse the blonde.
was his boyfriend really that scary?
he never really noticed, having grown up with the other male since pre-school together. the (color) haired male was always very silent but he always stood up for denki. ever since his quirk manifested, people were either too scared to get close in fear of the uncontrollable current of electricity or they used him as a mobile power outlet. but never (name), no. he walked denki home in the rain, helped him with tests and homework.
he never even snapped at him when he’d let shocks out by accident around him.
sure, (name) liked to tease him about his frazzled thoughts like everybody else but he was never mean to him. he never brushed him aside and that’s what really won his heart.
his friends were probably just trying to mess with him or something... just because (name)’s all silent and moody doesn’t make him scary. no, yeah. that was definitely it.
...
“alright, kaminari. this is an intervention.”
the switch in the blonde’s hands was snatched by a pink hand, revealing the bright golden hues of mina ashido looking at him with her other hand on her hip. he reached out, trying to grab the console back from her but all she did was pull it out of his reach. “come on, give it back. i made so much progress on my pokedex and i didn’t save it!”
“not until you actually listen to what we have to say,” she tossed the gaming console to ejirou before she took a seat next to the blonde, taking his hands in her soft pink palms. “please... this is important, kam. we’re concerned about you.”
“why? i’m not doing drugs or anything... why are you guys acting so weird?”
“dude. we’re being serious,” hanta piped up, placing a hand on denki’s shoulder with a frown. “(name)... he’s bad news. have you heard all the rumors from when he was in middle school?”
“guys, those are just rum-”
“no rumor starts without some kind of truth to them,” mina cuts him off with a stern, motherly tone as her grip on his hands tightened. “he’s not good for you... i don’t even know how he got into this course sometimes, really..”
“i mean, bakugou got in,” ejirou mumbled, earning a hit to the back of his head from the ashy blonde.
“kiri... not the point here,” she let out a small, tired sigh before looking back into denki’s honey colored hues. “look, kam... we care about you and you’re our friend. you’re like... a dumb little brother to me and i just want what’s best for you and (name)... he’s a delinquent, it’s so obvious. in the way he talks to aizawa-sensei and behaves in training... we don’t want you to get hurt.”
that was when denki couldn’t take it, yanking his hands from mina’s grip as he stands from the couch. his eyes were filled with a frustration and rage that none of them had ever really witnessed before. “will you all stop? just... stop. you don’t know him. i went to pre-school and middle school with him. i know those rumors are false because a group of kids bulling me pissed their pants and ran at just the sight of him.
he’s quiet and rude, sure. that’s how he’s always been, he gets it from his dad but that doesn’t mean he’s some delinquent or bad person. i always found it endearing and that’s why i never minded bakugou’s crass behavior either. he’s always been the person defending me before i met any of you... you have no right to be as mean as you are to him.”
the whole common room went dead quiet, denki’s hands balled into fists at his sides and face tinted pink with frustration. all that and nothing to say? no apologies or objections? he loved his friends and he knew, he always knew he was the idiot out of all of them but he never thought they were this stupid to judge others by their outward looks or behaviors.
that was when a soft, quiet voice broke him out of his blind rage.
“hey pikachu...” arms wrapped around the blonde’s waist, a face burying itself into his neck. the familiar scent of his boyfriend made all the frustration almost evaporate from his body as he twisted around to wrap his arms around (name) in return. he pressed soft kisses against the other’s shoulder as his arms tightened for a moment.
“hey... sorry, i didn’t mean to get so worked up,” the blonde mumbled against the crook of (name)’s neck. all he got was a silent shake of the other’s head and a soft squeeze, making a bright smile spread across his face. “you’re so cute when you get all shy.”
denki nuzzled the other’s cheek happily, laughing softly as he felt his (tone) cheeks heat at his words.
“...i really do love you.”
the blonde’s heart stopped, silence filling his senses as he pulled away to look at the other. his honey orbs scanning the other’s heated face, looking for any sign to say it was a joke or empty words. he never expected to hear those words... at least not for a long while but now he couldn’t keeping his heart from beating out of his chest as a small current of electricity buzzed through him. “i love you too! i love you so much, so so much!”
the two were so engrossed in each other that they didn’t even notice the rest of denki’s friends leave the room, sporting looks of acceptance. they had been wrong, at least to the extent of (name) being bad for their friend. after seeing their sparky friend smile so widely at someone, how could they ever continue to object to the bond they shared?
maybe they had been too quick to judge.
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outerbankies · 3 years
Note
You know how teenager rafe is gonna just be spiralling over reader going to prom with someone else? I’m going to cry cause like he’s a baby and he doesn’t know why he has these feeling for this one person that he’s always kind of orbited around?? And he knows she’s it for him but only deep down cause he’s trying to figure so much out and how could you know who you’re going to end up with at the age of 17 let alone 10 or 12 but he’s always known and aaaaah imagine that kind of love
an angsty little pre-series prom blurb partially inspired by this ^ ask that made me spiralll. thanks anon i hope u like this!
new light blurb: before we knew — rafe cameron
new light series masterlist
obv takes place pre-series in high school! referenced in part 1
warnings: underage drinking
“Top, it’s not fucking funny.”
“It’s kinda fucking funny, Y/n/n. Like, way more than a little.”
Rafe had ditched the last fifteen minutes of statistics when he finished his test early today, and he’d been messing around on his phone for ten minutes waiting for the rest of you to come and get in Topper’s Jeep so you could all go to lunch off-campus today.
Rafe stands up straight from where he’d been leaning against the hood when he hears your voice approaching, his smile matching yours once you see him. “Hey, Rafe. How did your stats test go?”
“Good, hey, Y/n. What’s not funny?” he asks, opening the passenger side door for you before sliding into the backseat behind you.
“Oh, get this, Rafe,” Topper says, laughing. You just groan again, clicking your seatbelt on. “Griffin is gonna ask Y/n to prom. Tomorrow.”
Rafe blanches. “Griffin?”
He knew Griffin thought you were hot. Certainly had to hear it enough times in the pool at practice every day. Rafe always found himself biting back a remark—well, almost always. As captain, Rafe was able to tell everyone to run another play whenever he felt like it. The extra exertion in the pool was nothing compared to having to tread water and hear his teammate talk about you like that.
But even after all of that, he still had no idea Griffin had the balls to actually make a move on you. Because Rafe could tell you’d seriously rather die than ever give Griffin the time of day. And Griffin had been pursuing you without luck for months, even though you’d been trying to gently show you weren’t interested. Half of the time, Rafe wished you'd just tell him to fuck off.
The other half of the time, Rafe was considering just doing it for you.
Rafe clears his throat after his outburst, a finger digging into a hole in his jeans. “How do you know?”
“He just told me in PE,” Topper says. “He said he has this huge banner, and speakers, and he’s gonna do it at lunch right in the middle of the quad—”
“Topper.” You cut him off a bit more seriously this time; Rafe can hear the shift in your tone. You've always hated being anywhere close to the center of attention, getting embarrassed by the smallest things others wouldn’t even think about. If Griffin actually knew anything about you the way Rafe does, he’d know you wouldn’t like something big and flashy. “Can you stop?”
“Hey, cut it out, Top,” Rafe is saying immediately. Topper just rolls his eyes, but Rafe doesn’t care. “You okay?”
“Yeah, Rafe,” you say, smiling over your shoulder at him. “M’fine.”
“Do you want me to tell Griffin to—”
Topper laughs from the driver’s seat, clearing his throat to cover it up when you look over at him. You look back at Rafe, and his heart breaks at the worry in your face. “Don’t, Rafe.”
“Are you gonna say yes?”
“No,” you immediately laugh, looking at him like the idea is preposterous.
“Oh c’mon, Y/n/n. Can’t say no to him in front of all those people,” Topper teases. “And where the fuck is Kelce? I’m starving.”
“You’re right,” you sigh. “I don’t wanna embarrass him. I’ll just find him after school today and tell him I’m going with Kelce.”
Topper’s eyes widen, Rafe catches it in the rearview mirror before he hurriedly looks away. Rafe clears his throat, settling back into his seat from where he’d been leaning into the front space to talk with you. “You—uh, are you actually going with Kelce?”
“Yeah,” you nod, distracted by your phone. “We said we’d go together if we didn’t find dates. Kelce didn’t really wanna ask anyone after what happened last summer. And after nearly being set up with Top last night, I’m about ready to throw in the towel.“
Rafe looks to his friend that sits in the driver’s seat, who's looking straight at his lap, the back of his neck bright red. “Wait, you two?”
“It was just our parents, dude. Went to dinner at the club last night and our moms brought it up,” Topper mumbles. You giggle at the idea, completely unaware of the energy in the car right now.
“Yeah, sorry, Thornton. But no thanks. You and Emily should be really cute, though,” you say earnestly, patting his shoulder.
Topper just stares straight ahead. “Thanks, Y/n/n.”
“And then this thing with Griffin—I’m just so over the idea of finding an actual date at this point,” you sigh. “Plus, I know Kelce won’t put up a fight about the color scheme. I’m thinking like, aqua. Or maybe pink? I don't think I'd look good in gold.”
You'll look good in absolutely anything, and Rafe will just have to watch you from across the floor of the Island Club, while Kelce twirls you around the dance floor or holds you close during a slow dance.
The guy in question opens the car door and slides into the backseat next to Rafe right then, sighing as he slides his backpack off. “Sorry guys, coach stopped me in the hall. Where are we eating?”
Rafe glares at him.
“I want a smoothie,” you declare from the front seat.
“Fine with me,” Topper nods, pulling out of his parking spot. “Guys?”
“Can we go to that place with the deli next door? I’m so hungry,” Kelce says.
“Yeah, I like their açaí bowls,” you say, twisting around to look at Rafe one more time. He must not be able to hide his emotions as much as he thought, because your smile drops when you see him. “Rafe? Does that sound good?”
He turns his body to look out the window, eyes flicking back to yours one last time. “Not hungry.”
Rafe meets Topper and Kelce at the dock later that night, the three of them intending to get drunk and maybe take Topper’s boat out if they felt like it.
Kelce is already there by the time Rafe pulls up, drinking a beer with Topper while they laugh at something on his phone.
And Rafe paces right down the dock, snatches Kelce’s phone out of his hand, and pushes him off the platform and into the water.
“Rafe, dude,” Topper says, immediately pushing him back by his chest.
“What the fuck?” Kelce sputters, spitting out water as he surfaces and climbs the ladder back up. “What is your fucking problem?”
“You couldn’t ask literally fucking anyone else? It had to be Y/n?” Rafe says, laughing indignantly. He looks down at where Topper is still keeping them separated. “And you—what the fuck—”
“I told you, man. It was just our moms. We didn’t even consider it,” Topper says, rolling his eyes.
“You both lied to me,” Rafe accuses. “Because you knew I’d be mad.”
“And why’s that, Rafe?” Kelce spits, reaching around Topper to try and push at his chest. “Why are you mad? Not like you were gonna ask her.”
“No,” Rafe says immediately. And he isn’t even lying; it’d never crossed his mind as a possibility. Which is why he can’t even begin to try and work out why he’s this upset about it. He didn’t do anything to stop this, but it’s still happening, and it’s making him crazy. “You know my dad’s making me take Reagan since we’re both on prom court.”
“That’s what I thought,” Kelce grumbles. “I was gonna tell you.”
“When?”
“Soon, I just—we made the plan so long ago, bro. Neither of us wanted to worry about dates… but I gave it time because I thought you might—I dunno,” Kelce trails off, shrugging. “I dunno.”
“Thought I might what?”
“Figure your shit out and ask her yourself,” Topper says, coming back from the boathouse with a towel that he passes to Kelce.
“Even if I could, Y/n/n would never say yes to me,” Rafe scoffs, shaking his head and reaching for the six-pack they were working through.
Topper scoffs back. “Oh, yeah ri—”
“Guess we’ll never know,” Kelce says, cutting him off while he dumps the water out of his shoes. He sighs at his soaked clothes before he looks back up at Rafe. “You know I’m not into her right? We’re just going as friends. It’s senior prom.”
“Why would I care what you’re going as?” Rafe says, shifting in discomfort, hand clutching his already-half-empty beer can a little tighter. “None of it even matters.”
“Whatever you wanna tell yourself, bro,” Kelce sighs, grabbing his phone out of Rafe’s hand and pushing past him to go change.
“Nice taste, Y/l/n.”
You whirl around from where you’d been adjusting Kelce’s boutonnière (you’d only pricked him twice, which was a personal record for you) at the sound of Rafe’s voice, plastering on a smile before you face him. Your eyes drop to his attire immediately. “Oh shit, Rafe. We match.”
“I know,” he laughs. “My step-mom wants a picture.”
You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in your heels, the tule of your dress suddenly itchy against your legs. “Um. Shouldn’t you take one with Reagan?”
“We already took a million. From every angle. With every possible fucking pose,” Rafe sighs. “C’mon, please? Before the limo comes.”
Rafe grabs your hand and you look back at Kelce who just nods, downing some champagne. “Take care of my date, Cameron.”
You can see Rafe just shake his head where you trail behind him, leading you back to where Rose is talking to one of the other moms. “There you are. Your dress is beautiful! I wish we'd found one like that for Reagan. It looks great with Rafe's tuxedo.”
“Uh, yeah. It's nice to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” you say politely, ignoring the last half of what she said completely. She pulls up her phone and Rafe’s bringing you into his side, his hand resting in the middle of your back.
“This okay?” he murmurs, his breath fanning over your neck as he leans down.
“Yep,” you say quickly, but you can’t help but look around and catch multiple of your friends watching you, including Reagan, who promptly rolls her eyes once you make eye contact with her.
“Y/n, sweetie, just a few pictures for the newsletter,” Rose says, reminding you of your purpose right now.
“Right, sorry,” you say.
“Hey,” Rafe whispers. You look up at him, feeling his hand bring you closer to his body. “Take this a little more seriously, Y/l/n. Don’t you know that the next issue of the Island Club newsletter will be completely ruined without this one specific photo, that will probably be squished into the corner of a terribly- edited collage?”
You laugh in surprise, hitting him on his chest for joking about his step-mom right in front of her. “Rafe. Be nice.”
He just grins down at you, before straightening up and turning back to the camera. “If I’m nice, will you save a dance for me later tonight?”
You’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore, because then he’d see the way your smile faltered before you turn back to the camera as well. “Sure.”
“How is my flask empty?” Kelce groans, tipping it over and shaking it out for emphasis.
“That’s what happens when you drink it all, bud,” you laugh, patting his shoulder. He rolls his eyes at you, linking his arm in yours as you both pass through the crowd to find Topper and his date, Emily. You all watch Rafe up on stage, waiting to inevitably be crowned prom king.
He was a shoo-in anyway, but you’d definitely distracted your English teacher with a conversation about the 1984 essay you just turned in while Topper and Kelce stuffed the ballot box he was meant to be guarding.
Rafe seemed like he couldn’t care less about stuff like prom court, just shaking his head when his name was announced over the speaker as a nominee three weeks ago at lunch.
And he’d dragged his feet through finding a date, just shrugging whenever you brought it up to him, prying partially for your own sake.
You couldn’t figure out why he seemed so averse to the entire event, but you supposed that was better than having to hear him go on and on about Reagan and how he asked her and what corsage he bought for her and if he was bringing her to after-prom—or anything else that would’ve dragged up some feelings you thought you’d firmly buried at this point, telling yourself for years that you never stood a chance with Rafe.
But the closer graduation got, the more you’ve been realizing that things with your friends would never be the same. Things with Rafe would never be the same.
“Kildare Academy, your prom king is Rafe Cameron,” the DJ says, snapping you out of your thoughts. Kelce and Topper cheer obnoxiously while you laugh, a little grateful they’re both drunk and distracted—so happy their plan worked (Rafe subtly flips them off behind his back as he’s crowned) that they can’t notice the way your shoulders slump as Rafe leads Reagan, just crowned queen, out to the middle of the dance floor while some Ed Sheeran song starts playing through the speakers. You’d roll your eyes at the terrible music selection if that was what you could focus on.
All you could focus on was wondering if Rafe would even remember that you promised him a dance tonight.
Kelce is dramatically bringing you into his arms as the prom court dance takes place, subtly turning you around so your back faces the stage and the court, smiling as he holds your waist. “C’mon, dance with me.”
Rafe’s letting go of Reagan as soon as the song ends and everybody cheers, dashing off to the DJ booth after telling her he’d be back in a bit. She merely shrugged before adjusting her crown and going off to some friends.
“Hey man, can I pull some prom king privilege right now?” he says, leaning in to speak into the guys’ ear. “I have a song request.”
“Playlist is set, approved by the school,” he says dismissively.
“Thought you might say that,” Rafe grumbles, reaching into his breast pocket before he can take the time to wonder if he’s really going to do this—if he’s really going to bribe the DJ to play a song by your favorite band before he goes to cash in on that dance together that you’d promised.
He hands him a crisp hundred.
The DJ sighs, snatching it out of his hand and pocketing it while Rafe smirks in victory. “Alright, what song, country club?”
And then it's practically a race to find you before the Kid Cudi remix currently playing ends. Rafe heads off in the direction where Topper and Kelce had been yelling when he was on stage, evening his pace when he spots you jumping around with Kelce, your dress fanning around you while you laugh, the string lights illuminating your face.
You’re smiling so big that it stops Rafe in his tracks.
Guys had always shown interest in you, and you turned most of them down. Not all of them; Rafe still had to see you with guys who absolutely did not deserve you giving them the time of day, sometimes at parties or maybe at the Club. Rafe could usually lie to himself, write off these feelings as some protectiveness over you, a nice girl who’d been a good friend to him his entire life. Rafe was protective of all the people he held close in his life, why wouldn’t he look out for you, too?
But something must have changed, because now—now Rafe’s looking at you, and he knows time is running out before you both set off on your futures. He has three weeks of school left with you, then a summer of seeing you around. And then... that's it.
And now he’s looking at you, those feelings less and less ignorable with every single second closer Rafe gets to not having you around him every day anymore.
Those feelings are crowding every corner of his mind, finally coming to the surface after all of the drama with prom dates had forced Rafe to wonder why he couldn’t stand you going with Griffin or Topper or Kelce. Couldn’t stand thinking about you ever being with someone that wasn’t him—a reality he knows he’d have to get used to you a lot quicker than it took him to even realize he’d fallen for you.
Because the future’s coming, and maybe in the future you actually end up with someone like Griffin, or Mateo, or that guy from the party that one time, or that touron from New England that your parents tried to set you up with, some hotshot you brought home from California after a semester, or Kelce—even Topper. Your parents would love that one. And one day in this future, you’re running into Rafe on the soccer field; your kids play for the same team together. Rafe ended up settling for someone he could never like half as much as he loved you, and he sees you across the field with a sweater tied around your shoulders, chatting with all of the other moms. The lucky asshole you finally chose just watches you the way Rafe always had, the way he is now as you dance with his best friend, the way Rafe will probably never be able to stop himself from doing.
Or maybe there's another future without you, where you move away to somewhere that suits you; the Outer Banks had never good enough for you, in his mind. Maybe you stay in California after school. And you bring home that hotshot that’s perfectly matched for you, who gets to hold you and kiss you and have you. Rafe only gets to see you every once in a while, when you decide to grace the Outer Banks with your presence for the holidays or for Midsummers. Maybe in this scenario, Rafe was never able to find someone else, maybe he shows up solo while you flash your engagement ring when the old crew gets together for drinks—no, you wouldn’t do that. You’d be absolutely smitten with whoever won your heart, showing the ring he got you to your girl friends with an embarrassed little smile pulling at your lips while they all gush over it. And maybe one of your friends jokes about how Rafe used to have a crush on you. You'll just laugh and shrug it off, nodding—because you knew all along. Of course you knew, everyone had to know at this point. And Rafe can picture you merely laughing at his feelings for you as the other guy gets to pull you closer on his lap.
The opening chords of your song snap him out of his reverie. He can see the exact moment you realize what song it is.
Rafe beelines for you, holding his hand out as soon as he’s in your vicinity, fully pretending he hadn’t just realized he’s fallen for one of his closest friends in the middle of prom. Like he hadn't realized that he wasn't just into you, didn't just think you were cute or like the way you made him feel when you remembered his stats tests or wore his shirt to his water polo games. Like he hadn't just realized that no matter how many times he'd told himself it didn't bother him that much that you'd never come close to giving him the time of day, that he'd never forget what it felt like to not even be on your radar.
“You promised me a dance, Y/n.”
You look at him and his outstretched hand and smile, then look back to Kelce, who's quickly letting you out of his arms, casting an accusatory glance at Rafe. But then he smiles a little. “I'm gonna hit the restrooms.”
“Too bad our one dance is gonna be to a song by a band you hate,” you laugh, accepting Rafe's hand. Rafe’s on autopilot, his hands resting on your lower back while yours move to his chest, swaying the two of you in little circles. The song is already through with the first verse.
“I don’t hate this band,” he lies. But maybe it’s not a lie—how could he hate anything you loved?
“Okay, prom king,” you laugh, fiddling with his pocket square a little, the one that matches your dress. “Still can’t believe we ended up matching.”
“Great minds, Y/l/n,” he shrugs, eyes trained on your face. Your hands slip up around his shoulders, and you nudge the plastic crown on his head before leaving your arms to rest there, fingers locked behind his neck. Rafe pulls you closer. The second chorus was already starting up. Time was running out.
“I’m not sure what the optics are of our matching and you leaving the prom queen to come dance with your friend,” you say, your small smile turning into a frown. “Reagan already seemed pissed earlier.”
“Don’t worry about her,” Rafe says. “It’s just you and me right now.”
“When we go off to college, I think I might just miss you, Cameron,” you say, smiling.
And Rafe might not ever get to tell you how he feels, or ever be with you the way he wants to, but at least he got to dance with you at his senior prom.
“I know I'm gonna miss you.”
@moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids @fangirlvoice @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @pogueslandia @loveylangdon @oopsiedoopsie23 @sodasback @rafeseggplant @cooper8224 @rafeyybabyy @lemur46 @cameronsrafe @theepoguelandia @judayyyw @irlpadfoot @synonymforlame @tinawhynot @mildkleptomaniac @ilymarkchan @sofiatheseconf @hockeyshmockey @supersouthy @coffeeandcrimeshows @emptyloverofmine @infinitleyethereal @nerdypartytrashpsychic @mrs-cameron @tcmhollnd @nicavass @sakikos @catonthesideoftheroad @jemimah-b99 @serrendipiity @depressinq @svechnibrock @julianakawaja @ctrlcherries @lostaurorax @wildflower98 @babygirl2022 @lieswithoutfairytales @painlesslies @messagesinthesky @orrsoared @destourtereaux @sammywilscn @tylernagle @anonymousobxfan @lilacsandwhiskey @raphaelcameron @mardema @princesspogue @alwaysclassyeagle @brittlehe-art @drewswrld
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138. You’re the only person whose ever cared about me. With pre-death tate?? Thank you💝
Pumped Up Kicks // Tate Langdon
request: 138. You’re the only person whose ever cared about me. With pre-death tate??
prompts: 138
warnings: death, murder, school shooting, language, violence, blood, angst, sadness, not proofread
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At first you didn’t notice them. The sound could’ve been explained in many different way. A door slamming too hard. Someone nearby set off fireworks. A balloon popped. But then they got louder, and more repetitive. There was no mistaking the noise. They were gunshots.
You froze in terror as the book you were holding slipped from your hands and fell to the library floor with a dull thud. You looked around at the other students in the library, trying to figure out what to do.
The librarian dashed for the door, locking it just before the handle started to rattle. You ran, crawling under the nearest table, hoping you wouldn’t be seen.
Then it stopped. The room fell silent once more, and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. But the only problem was, there was another door. Before the librarian was able to lock it, the door burst open. Shoots fired and the librarian fell to the floor.
You curled your legs into your body, trying your best to hide your shaking. All around you, you heard gunshots, and bodies falling to the floor. Everyone was gone. You were the only one left in the room.
You watched as the shooter slowly walked away, and you let out the breath you were holding in. You were safe, you weren’t going to die.
But that relief left your mind the second the table on top of you was thrown aside, leaving you exposed. They were in front of you. You were going to die.
Slowly you looked up and gasped when you saw who it was. Tate Langdon, your best friend. He was the one doing this? A million questions flooded your mind as you stared into his eyes.
“Tate, please you don’t have to do this.”
He crouched down in front of you, meeting your eyes.
“You’re wrong y/n. This is what I was meant to do.”
“But why me? Tate you’re my best friend. Please don’t do this,” tears came to your eyes as you pleaded with him.
“You’re the only person whose ever cared about me. That’s why I have to do this. I’m saving you. I’m sending you somewhere clean. Somewhere kind. Away from this filthy world that we live in.”
Before you had the chance to say anything else, Tate shot you. You looked down and saw the blood pooling underneath you, spilling out of your stomach. You fell back, colliding with the floor. You felt your life fade away, and then you were gone.
17 years later
It was halloween again. The one day of the year that you could leave the school you were forever imprisoned in. You stepped out of the confines of the school, smiling as the cool October breeze met your skin.
But the other victims with you didn’t share your joy in freedom. Their minds were always only on one thing. Revenge.
“Come on guys! This is the one day of the year that we’re free and you wanna waste it on getting back at him?”
“We’re not getting back at him y/n. We just wanna know why? Don’t you?” Chloe said as she looked at you.
“Well yeah, but why does it matter? It happened and there’s nothing we can do about it. C’mon guys we should do something fun it’s our one day of freedom!”
“Look you don’t have to come with us, but we need to talk to him,” Stephanie replied, glancing sadly towards you.
“Yeah, and if we scare him, that’s just a bonus,” Kyle laughed slightly.
Everyone talking about Tate was starting to get to you. After everything that happened, you still had feelings for him. You don’t want to, but you can’t help it. The two of you were so close before you died. And even after all this time, your feelings still haven’t changed.
“I know how hard seeing him is for you. You don’t have to come with us. Go have fun, visit your family.”
“Thanks Steph, but I think I need to do this. I haven’t seen him since,” you trailed off, not wanting to mention your death again.
“Then let’s go, we’re losing daylight,” Kyle yelled.
~
There he was. Sitting on the beach with some girl. Maybe she’s dead too? It doesn’t matter, she’s not why you’re here. You stood behind and watched as everyone walked up towards him.
“I don’t know any of you.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, your eyes widened. How doesn’t he remember?! How could he possibly forget something like that?!
Then Kevin turned to you, motioning you over. You slowly stepped out from the shadows and walked towards Tate. As soon as he saw you he gasped. He recognized you.
“Why did you do it Tate?” you asked him, your voice breaking slightly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tate said, close to tears.
“You really don’t remember?”
He shook his head.
“Tate, you killed me. You killed all of us. Just please, tell me why you did it!” you pleaded with him hoping he would remember.
When he didn’t say anything, you reached forward and grabbed his hand. In an instant, memories flooded through Tate’s mind. He remembered. He remembered everything.
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I thought I was doing something good. I thought I was saving you. I don’t know what I was thinking. I killed the only person I’ve ever loved.”
Tate pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you tightly. Hesitantly you returned the gesture. Embracing the boy you loved.
“I love you y/n. I’m sorry. I wish I could take it back. I never wanted to kill you I don’t know what came over me.”
“I-,” you stopped speaking, trying to find the words.
“I love you too Tate. But I can’t be with you. Not yet at least. You ruined everything. You took my life away from me. I was going to be someone someday. But you took that away,” you slowly pulled away from him as the words left your mouth.
“Y/n please,” he pleaded as you turned and started to walk away.
“I’m sorry. But I just can’t do this.”
And before Tate could say anything else, you took off running. Right now you wanted nothin more than to be back at that school. Even though it was your prison, anything was better than having to face Tate again. Anything.
Taglist: @ahsxual @darlingkitt @1800-fuckbitchesgetmoney @horrorgirlx
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starshapedkookie · 4 years
Text
Southpaw
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pairing: jungkook x female reader (ft. a little sprinkle of namjoon)
genre: childhood friends to lovers, boxer jungkook, college/frat au
includes: swearing, angst, mentions of blood and violence, pining, smut (public/private, unprotected sex, hair pulling, jungkook is big guys, duh), alcohol, smoking weed, jungkook seems like an asshole but he’s really not, OC having a crisis every two seconds, some fluff here and there as well, also this takes place over many months just saying if time gets confusing
premise: Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each other’s lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.
word count: 30k (she’s a monster sorry guys) 
quick note: this is my first story back in a year(?) give or take some weeks!! kind of nervous to post & not sure if my writing has declined in anyway but nonetheless here is the beast that has been sitting on my computer since April 2019!! quick disclaimer I don’t know much about boxing so if I get stuff wrong - I apologize!! please enjoy & let me know what you think ❤️happy 7 years BTS!
recommended songs for reading: pray (JRY, RuthAnne), mushroom chocolate (6lack, quin), hallucinate (dua lipa), wus good/curious (partynextdoor)
_____
The evening was slow—after all, it was only a Wednesday. You had just finished serving a table of two—a young man and young woman—presumably on a midweek date. You didn’t recognize either of them which wasn’t surprising considering the campus grossed about 20,000 people. You began to wipe down tables out of boredom, glancing at the clock every two minutes hoping it would jump to when your shift was over in forty-five minutes. Thankfully, you didn’t have much work to do when you got home, but you are wishing to get in bed before 10:30 to get a full eight hours of sleep for your lectures tomorrow—something you had not had in about two months. Most days, like today, you were running on five hours of sleep and five cups of coffee. It wasn’t healthy, you knew that much, but it’s how you had to live your life. Your schedule was too demanding to hit the snooze button multiple times. You had shit to do—and getting your degree was the top priority.
“Y/N,” your coworker, Mark, called your name from behind of the counter.
“Yeah?” You respond.
“Will you come help me clean this out?” He asks you and you nod diligently.
“Of course,” you say, dropping your current task of wiping already clean tables. Mark was the one student that worked here you could stand to be around. He was very much like you in the sense that school came before anything—he too was on a full academic scholarship. He worked here before you, but he made you feel the most comfortable out of everyone. You would consider him a close friend at this point.
The espresso machine was a pain in the ass to clean and did call for two people most of the time. Besides, you would rather smell the remnants of coffee beans than the harsh chemicals of bleach gliding across a table.
“You have much work to do after your shift?” He asks you.
“No, thank god,” you shake your head, “I got most of my shit done between my classes today. You?”
“I have to write a ten page paper by midnight,” he sighs, “And guess how many pages I have started.”
You give him a short glance, “I’m gonna take a wild guess and say zero.”
“Damn right,” he smiles. A short silence between you two ensues before he speaks again, “Oh! Did I tell you I’m graduating early?”
“What? Really?” You look at him and an excited grin plays on his face. “When?”
“Yeah, I spoke to my advisor this afternoon and turns out, the classes I’m taking this semester is all I need for my degree,” he speaks with a relieved tone.
“Wow, that’s awesome,” you say genuinely, “I wish that was me,” you give out a small chuckle.
“I’m just glad I don’t have to keep stressing over this hell-hole,” he laughs, “The sooner I get out of here, the better.”
“I feel you on that,” you say, “I’m proud of you nonetheless, you’ve worked your ass off dealing with this scholarship.”
He gives you a small smile in return but it’s broken by the bell ringing from the door, signaling a new customer has decided to come in. Your eyes break from Mark’s and glance over to the door, your head doing a double take.
Your mouth goes dry when you see them—more specifically—him. 
No, it wasn’t the first time you’ve seen him, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had seen him outside of a frat party on the weekends. And truly, it was your first time getting a good look at him in awhile. You felt nervous—though you had no reason to be nervous. You had known him since long before your days as university students, but since you weren’t plastered in this scenario, looking at him seemed more like a chore than ever.
“You want me to get their table?” Mark asks you and you look back at him.
“No, I got it,” you say, throwing down the cleaning cloth, wiping your hands on your apron.
The small group of boys are too busy in their own conversation to see you approaching them. You clear your throat before grabbing some menus off of the podium.
“Hey guys, welcome,” your voice breaks their conversation. The three men your age turn to you all at once and a small smile erupts from one of them.
“Y/N? I didn’t know you worked here?” Taehyung—another person you knew all too well—smiles and speaks brightly
“Yup,” you say simply, “Just been here a little over a month,” you explain pressing the best smile you can muster up. “C’mon, I’ll get you seated and get your order in.”
You lead them towards the back of the small restaurant, seating them in a booth. As they follow you from behind, you can feel their eyes burning into your back and you feel like screaming at the top of your lungs. They sit down and you pass out the menus.
“What would you guys like to drink?” You ask, putting a hand on your hip.
“I’ll take a coke,” Hobi—you remember his name easily as you see him around in a few of your classes.
“Coke as well,” Taehyung says.
“Jungkook?” His name rolls off your tongue and it sounds foreign. You couldn’t remember the last time you had said it, let alone to his face. His brown eyes meet yours and he clears his throat.
“I’ll just take a water,” he finally speaks, his gaze breaking just as fast as it met yours.
“I’ll get those right out,” a grimace spreads on your face and you turn on your heels to fulfill their drink orders. You hadn’t expected the encounter to be so awkward and have so much tension—but what did you expect?
Your relationship with Jeon Jungkook was a strange one to say the least. You had known him longer than anyone you associated with—you meet each other at the tender age of eight in elementary school. You remember that day so vividly.
You had been assigned a seat right beside of him the first day of school. He kept his eyes away from you. Being the energetic child you were, you were expecting him to introduce himself but—he never did. It actually took being in school a whole week to get him to talk to you. You nudged his arm with your elbow and his eyes meet yours for the first time. You smiled at him, “I like your shirt,” to which he responded a small, “Thank you.” He picked at his nails and you smiled at him again, “I’m Y/N,” though he would already know that sitting beside of you. “I’m Jungkook,” he spoke again with a shy smile. That day would change both of your lives—all thanks to you and your mouth that couldn’t shut the hell up.
Four years later, at the age of twelve, Jungkook was your best friend. For four years, he was the one person you had came to all about your problems—he as well. The two of you would complain equally about school, he would complain about his older brother picking on him, you would complain about your younger sister bothering you nonstop—the two of you were more alike in more ways than you could imagine. Despite getting older and more different, you and Jungkook shared the same friend group. You had met a girl named Kim Jennie during a pre-algebra class and Jungkook had met a lively kid named Kim Taehyung—no they weren’t related but you often joked about it. It was nice having another close friend instead of just having Jungkook—especially a girl. You and Jennie had more in common than you and Jungkook and Jungkook and Taehyung and more in common than you two. But—the four of you clicked and you spent nearly everyday with each other.
At sixteen, a lot of stuff had changed. Yes, you, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jennie had all remained best friends, but high school was definitely not the same as middle school. You and Jennie joined the tennis team, Jungkook and Taehyung joined the soccer team—Jungkook also joining the baseball team—which kept the four of you more separated than you would have liked. The four of you all sat together at lunch each day, but as each day passed, something felt different with Jungkook. And then, halfway through your second year of high school, the news broke that Jungkook had a girlfriend—a cute girl named Yuna—who was actually older than him by a year. You felt indifferent about it. He didn’t speak to you as much as he used to and he would ditch you, Jennie and Taehyung to hang out with her. It didn’t bother Jennie or Taehyung as much as it bothered you—but then again—you had known him since you were eight and it felt weird not being Jungkook’s number one girl. You hated to say it—but you were jealous and you had no idea why.
Two years had passed, the four of you all eighteen and fully legal now. It was the end of your last year of high school and you could not be more ready to leave. Growing up through high school together, the thought of all of you going to the same university was a dream. The four of you were excited to move on to new things. Jungkook and Yuna had broken up a few months prior, not being able to work through the distance of her being away at college. Jungkook soon started molding back to how he was before—texting you throughout the day, complaining, just being Jungkook—you were happy, happier than when he was with Yuna. It was May when you had received the news that you had been offered a full ride academic scholarship. You cried and cried tears of joy—finally busting your ass for so long had paid off. Jungkook was so proud of you, though he didn’t outwardly show it, the way he looked at you when you had told him was all you needed. Taehyung suggested it—a small celebration of sorts for you—a.k.a. the four of you getting absolutely plastered in his basement. Taehyung had managed to steal some alcohol from his parents and before the four of you knew it, beers had been downed and half a bottle of tequila had been drank. You were laying on the floor, giggling at everything Jennie did, dancing around the room with a bottle of vodka in hand. Jungkook had laid down beside of you, his eyes boring deep onto you. You crane your neck and give him a small smile, not realizing how little space was between the two of you. Jungkook supports himself on an elbow and it was then you had realized how handsome Jungkook had actually become. He spent so long away from you when he was dating Yuna, you didn’t realize how much he had grown into his features. That night—was singlehandedly the best and worst night of your life.
You had no idea what came over you, but you stood up throwing out your hand for Jungkook to take. He grabbed it with no hesitation, him towering over you as your chests touched and it was the closest the two of you had ever been. Jungkook had looked over to Jennie and Taehyung, still drinking and acting stupid, before grabbing your hand and pulling you into the closest bathroom and shutting the door. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you grip his shirt tightly. The next few moments are a blur—Jungkook kisses you—actually kisses you. He gripped your waist tightly, pushing you against the door. A small whine emitted from your lips as he pulled away and you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He kissed you again, pulling your thigh up to rest in his hand. This was wrong—so wrong in so many ways. But neither of you stopped until a bang from the other side of the door broke the steamy makeup session.
That night changed everything between you two. Neither of you talked about it ever again. Despite being so drunk to the point of blacking out—you remember every detail—and so did he. That summer, you and Jungkook grew apart. And it was the worst thing to ever happen to you.
Now, at twenty-one, almost through university, you had interacted with Jungkook only a handful of times. You had studied together a few times your freshman year, but after your first year, you could count on your hands how many times you had seen each other. Most of the time, only seeing him at parties with other girls hanging off of him. It was painful to see. Even after 3 years of a drunken kiss in Taehyung’s bathroom, it hurt more than ever to see Jungkook with other girls—but at the same time you didn’t care. You had moved on and so did he. You two were now strangers but your life was good—you didn’t need him like you used to think. And he seemingly didn’t either.
“Y/N? Earth to Y/N?” Mark nudged you out of your obnoxiously long reverie and you jumped out of your skin. “Are you okay?” He asks.
You look down and realize that you haven’t taken the three of them their drinks, the ice now watering them down to shit.
“Y-yeah, I’m just tired is all,” you begin to pour out the drinks to get new ones before Mark stops you.
“Here, I’ll handle them,” he says, “You can go home early, it’s fine,” he smiles.
“A-are you sure?” You ask him, not wanting to leave him by himself.
“Yeah, it’s about closing time anyways. Just head out, I’ll close,” he nods with a smile and you can’t help but to throw you arms around him.
“Jesus, thank you. I promise I’ll make it up to you one day,” you tell him pulling away. You wash your hands quickly and throw off your apron.
“Get home safe,” he says and you tell him the same before grabbing your bag. You glance one last time to the table in the back and unexpectedly, Jungkook is staring at you. It makes your breathing hitch and you turn around on your heel quickly, not wanting to linger on his gaze longer than you need to.
_____
The weekend comes slower than you would like, but it’s Friday which means one thing—time to go out and get a much needed dose of social life. You and Jennie had found yourself at the Beta Tau Sigma crush party at their fraternity house that evening.
“Here you go, m’lady,” Namjoon comes into your peripheral vision, handing you a drink he specially made just for you.
“Thanks,” you give him a small smile. You take a huge gulp without hesitation—you trusted Namjoon with your life. Not only was he on academic scholarship too, he was also the president of this fraternity which meant if he didn’t act straight—he would face serious consequences. The mix of brains, being ridiculously handsome, and being in a fraternity was a recipe for disaster—he was your type—bonafide. You were his type too which is maybe why the two of you clicked so well, particularly in bed.
“My feet are fucking killing me,” you groan glancing down at your heels, rolling your eyes in the back of your head. Namjoon throws an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.
“At least you look hot as fuck,” he lips brush against your ear and you give him a glare.
“Isn’t hot kind of a degrading term in today’s world?” You press.
He narrows his eyes at you, “Fine—you look beautiful, cute, sexy—is that better?”
“Much better,” you nod playfully and Namjoon gets bold—pulling you even closer to him for a small peck on your lips. Eyes linger on the two of you but you couldn’t care. So many girls would love to be in your position and you feel lucky to have captivated Namjoon at least for now. Besides, he was good at fucking and you needed stress relief, as did he.
Unsuspecting, Jungkook waltzed his way into the room and he immediately stops when he sees the sight of you and his older brother Namjoon. He had heard rumors about the two of you, which he brushed off—you would never go after someone like Namjoon—oh who is he kidding? You and Namjoon are the same person and it kills Jungkook inwardly. The way Namjoon is nuzzled into your neck and the way you're smiling, giggling to every word he says, makes him feel uncomfortable. You looked so different at parties than how he saw you a few days ago at your work. Your legs looked sexy as fuck in your short black dress, your hair flowed down beautifully as opposed to being thrown up, the way red lipstick painted your mouth made him semi hard. Jesus, how after all this time, does he still think about you like this?
Your eyes break away from Namjoon and your smile falls when they meet a familiar set of doe eyes from across the room. Your breath hitches and Jungkook looks so handsome you want to die. His dark hair is slightly parted, his button up is undone at the top, and his legs fulfill his pants better than any guy here. He downs two shots, not breaking his gaze from you. You feel intimidated by his gaze and presence, despite having seen him at these things multiple times. The only difference is that now—he’s giving you some attention that you weren’t ready for.
Your gaze breaks away from each other when a group of loud boys—including Taehyung as well as Kai, another brother within the fraternity—come rushing into the room, hauling a keg in tow.
“Hyung! Come on,” Taehyung teases drunkenly as they set down the keg. There are many hyung’s for Taehyung in the room to not have specified which one he was talking about, until he deadpans on Namjoon. “Namjoon-hyung, come on!”
Namjoon begins to shake his head in protest, “I’d rather not,” he puts his hands up, keeping his distance from Taehyung, “Gotta keep an eye on this one tonight,” he nudges you and Taehyung’s eyes widen when her realizes it’s actually you, standing beside of his older brother.
“Y/N! Hey! What’s up! Didn’t expect to see you here, especially with this one again,” he narrows his eyes to Namjoon.
“Hi Taehyung,” you give him a small smile.
“Do a keg stand with me?” His eyes bulge out like a puppy dog and your own widens in shock at the question.
“Oh no,” you protest, looking up at Namjoon, “Last time I did a keg stand was freshman year and I said never again,” you explain to him. He gives you a pout.
“Fuck,” Taehyung says, “Well who is gonna do this shit with me then?” He sounds impatient and frustrated.
“Get Jungkook too—he’s been looking over in this direction for too long, give ‘em something to do,” Namjoon says and you look up at him. Did he notice Jungkook looking at you? Shit.
“Hell yeah, that little shit will definitely do it,” Taheyung smirks and yells for Jungkook to come over. Jungkook is preoccupied with a girl before Taehyung breaks his mojo from across the room. Jungkook sees Taehyung and you standing together and he furrows his eyebrows. He excuses himself from his pussy date for the night and saunters his way over towards your direction. You keep your eyes anywhere but Jungkook as he approaches you.
“Hey hyung,” Jungkook greets Namjoon, “Y/N,” he says slowly and you tense up. “What do you want Taehyung?” He spits out. He’s clearly buzzed as the attitude coming off of his tongue is stronger than usual.
“Do this fucking keg stand with me pussy,” Taehyung presses and Jungkook scrunches his nose.
“Fuck no,” Jungkook responds and Taehyung rolls his eyes.
“Come onnnn,” he drags out, begging his life long best friend to do it.
“Absolutely not, I’ve done it once and I said never again,” Jungkook says and your eyes nearly pop out of your head. Taehyung looks at you and Jungkook and shakes his head.
“I swear you two are the same person in a different body, it’s weird,” Taehyung says, “Your loss,” and Taehyung is soon leaving your side to find someone else to do his proposition.
Jungkook is left standing in front of you and Namjoon in an awkward silence.
“Don’t forget, you’re on clean up duty Jeon,” Namjoon raises an eyebrow at the younger man.
Jungkook groans, “Fine, whatever hyung,” his words run together as he gives you a final glance, “See you later Y/N,” is the last thing he says before he walks away to find the girl he was smooching up prior.
Namjoon gives you a weird look before you are furrowing eyebrows at him, “What?” You ask.
“What’s up with you two?” He asks motioning over to Jungkook.
“What do you mean?” You gulp down your drink hoping to hide the nervousness in your tone.
“Didn’t you two use to be like, best friends or some shit?” He asks.
You shrug your shoulders, “Yeah, when we were kids,” you chuckle.
Namjoon doesn’t seemed convinced, “I remember you two hanging out a lot during Jungkook's freshman year here, what happened?”
You shrug once again, “People grow apart,” you answer simply, not wanting to go in detail how one kiss basically ruined whatever your friendship was with him. Namjoon suddenly smiles, a dimple showing in his left cheek.
“You know he talks about how hot you are? Not all of the time, but I’ve heard it before,” he laughs and you freeze in your spot.
“What are you trying to prove by interrogating me Joon?” You say with some attitude. That was the least thing you expected to come out of his mouth.
“Hey, I’m just asking questions!” He defends himself, “I just didn’t know if something happened between you two—like you dated or something and shit got weird, I don’t know… just curious,” he chuckles a bit.
You eyes widen and you feel yourself getting warm, “Oh no, we never dated or…anything like that…” you trail off. “We’ve just grown apart, we’re too different now.”
Namjoon raises an eyebrow at you, “According to Taehyung you two are the same person.”
You glare at him, “Get me another drink,” you shove your cup into his hand and see laughs at you before sauntering away for a few seconds. He comes back with a full glass and you down half of it in a few seconds.
“Ew,” you scrunch up your nose. Nice, you think to yourself.
“Maybe you should talk to him? I’m sure having an old friend is nice every once in awhile,” Namjoon continues, clearly interested in your history with Jungkook.
“I have Jennie,” you answer, “Besides, conversation goes both ways. If he really wanted to be friends again, he could talk to me.” You knew that answer was stupid. Jungkook didn’t even speak to you when you were younger. You were the one that initiated the friendship, not him, and you knew that.
“Whatever you say space cowboy,” Namjoon draws out and you give him a glare.
“Did you just quote Kacey Musgraves?” You ask with a small smile on your face.
“Fuck yeah I did,” he smirks, “She’s a gay icon are you kidding me, I’m obsessed with her.”
“Joonie, you’re not even gay,” you laugh.
“So? I love anyone who supports gay rights! Don’t discriminate my quotes!” He defends himself and you cannot help but laugh at him.
“Let’s go dance,” you grab his hand and pull him out of the kitchen onto the main dance floor. Namjoon was perhaps one of the more attractive people you’ve met here in your four years. He oozed sex appeal and charisma, which is why anytime he wanted to hang out or take you to a party—you obliged. If it meant getting in his bed at the end of the night, wearing the heels was worth it.
Namjoon puts his hands on your waist and the two of you dance to music in the crowded dance floor. Namjoon grabs a bottle of liquor from one of his other brothers who you have never met before and the two of you share a nice gulp of the cheap—but very strong—vodka.
You haven’t had too much to drink but you know if you drink anymore, you will not make it back to your apartment. You push the bottle away from you and turn to face Namjoon. His brown eyes stare into yours with a glassy, tipsy appearance, and he smirks at you.
“What?” You question him as his grip gets tighter on you.
“I wasn’t lying when I said you looked hot,” he says smoothly and you roll your eyes yet again.
“How sweet,” you grumble, biting down on your bottom lip. Without a warning, he leans in and pecks your lips gently. The alcohol in your veins surges through you as you lean back in and close the gap. Even in your heels, you still have to crane your neck some to fully reach his stature. His hands grip your waist tightly and you tug at his light brown locks, pulling him impossibly closer to you.
He presses himself into you a little bit harder and you can tell he wants you, his hands gripping one at your waist and the other one in your hair. Everything around you goes blank was it only feels like the two of you in the room together. Unfortunately, your moment is ruined when someone bumps into the two of you, knocking you apart. Namjoon steadies you and he glares at the two girls that ran into you.
“You want to get out of here?” Namjoon says into your ear, his breath fanning over your neck sending chills down you body.
“Yeah,” you nod a little too excitedly and he grabs your hand pulling you away from everyone. Namjoon is taking you up the stairs before someone calls out your name.
“Y/N!” You turn around in Namjoon’s grip to find Jennie holding onto the railing of the stairs, swaying back and forth drunkenly.
“Oh god,” you mutter.
“Is she okay?” Namjoon asks as he follows behind you back down the stairs. No, in fact, she looks terrible.
“Jennie, what’s up? I thought you were with Suzy?” You ask her and her face scowls.
“I was, but then… he showed up,” Jennie says, knowing exactly who she is talking about, “And he brought another girl with him! Y/N, what’s wrong with me? Am I not good enough for him?” Jennie is rambling as tears began to flow down her face. You look at Namjoon as he assesses the situation.
“I-I can get an Uber for her, if you’d like?” Namjoon offers and you nod.
“Please?” You beg and Namjoon grabs your hand squeezing it reassuringly before walking away to get the car.
“Jennie, come on, snap out of it,” you tell her and she continues to sob in your arms.
“Y/N, I don’t get it, I love him and he says he loves me but he does this shit all of the time,” she rambles.
“I know, I know,” you try to calm her down, “Jennie your drunk right now, but you’re so much better than him. I know you don’t realize it, but you are—“
“He makes me feel like shit,” Jennie sighs and you cradle your friend. Unfortunately, Jennie doesn’t have the best taste in men and she finds herself stuck in toxic situations she can’t get out of. You wish you could help more then you do but when Jennie is drunk, it’s hard to get anything through to her.
“Come on, let’s go to the bathroom,” you pull her up before she starts fighting you.
“I don’t need to use the bathroom though,” she pouts.
“Well, you might, let’s go,” you manage to hold her up and get to a bathroom in a hallway that isn’t too crowded. You reach for the handle only to be disappointed that it’s locked. Great.
You beat on the door with your free hand, “Hurry up in there! I have a crisis hanging off of my arm!”
“Hey, don’t call me that you bitch,” Jennie frowns and you roll your eyes, knowing she won’t remember any of this in the morning. You beat on the door again and again and again and finally, someone unlocks it and opens it fully.
The sight makes your eyes widen and your body heat up on fire. In front of you stands Jungkook against the counter zipping up his pants and the girl he was with earlier standing from her knees, wiping her mouth with a smirk. She leaves the bathroom, leaving you standing there with Jennie alone. When his eyes meet yours, his face goes ghostly pale. His mouth parts open and he feels like crawling into a hole to die.
“Y/N, Jennie?” Is all that comes from his mouth.
“Move Jungkook,” you say sternly and he moves to make room for you two in the bathroom.
“Uh, do you need any—“
“Leave Jungkook, I don’t need any help,” you say frustrated at the sight you just witnessed. You don’t know why you felt angry at him. You knew that he slept around like most fraternity boys—but to see him after getting sucked off in a bathroom—was new territory. Not only did it bring up the memory of you and him back in Taehyung’s bathroom all those years ago, it made you physically sick to know that you were just a pawn for him then. Who are you trying to kid? You were nothing to him. Once he figured out what his dick was used for, that’s all he cared about. Christ, you say to yourself, fuck him.
Jungkook leaves the two of you alone and within seconds, Jennie is over the toilet hurling her entire stomach up. You hold her hair back as she heaves into the toilet, trying not to gag yourself.
“Y/N,” she mumbles, “I don’t feel good.”
“I know, just keep it in the toilet please,” you say looking away at the sight.
Thankfully, Namjoon appears at the door. “The Uber is here,” he announces.
“Come on, we’re going to get you home,” you tell her, wiping her mouth with some toilet paper.
“Home?” She asks, “Thank god.”
Namjoon grabs her other side as the two of you carry her outside into the fresh air. You have to admit, the fresh air as sobered you up slightly. You spot the car waiting up front and Namjoon opens the door for Jennie.
“Thank you so much,” you tell Namjoon as he helps Jennie into the car.
“It’s seriously not a problem,” he smiles, “You should go with her,” he suggests and you feel your heart drop.
“A-are you sure?” You ask, subtle disappointment in your tone.
“Yeah, it’s fine—we’ll pick up another time,” he gives you a wink and you smile back.
“Okay, thanks again.”
You load into the back of the Uber with Jennie and you just pray that she doesn’t hurl in the car, for the sake of you and the Uber driver’s car. You were not about to pay the $200 fee for puke in the backseat. 
_____
The next morning comes all too quickly in your deep sleep. When you wake up, you are not expecting Jennie to be in your bed with you. You had nearly forgotten she refused to sleep in her own bed last night, therefore you having to give in to her wishes of sleeping with you. Thankfully, you don’t feel like you have too bad of a hangover. For Jennie though, you know she will probably be in bed all day with a bottle of Tylenol at her bedside.
You check your phone and your eyes nearly burst from your head. It’s 1:07 PM.
“Fuck,” you groan to yourself. You did not need to sleep this late considering you absolutely needed to study for your exams on Monday. Not only was it an exam—it was your midterm exams in your human sciences and financial analytics classes, two classes that were kicking your ass. The longer you laid in your bed, meant the longer you were losing time to cram in your studying. You swig the sheets and blankets off of you to find yourself still in your party dress from last night. You grab a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt from your wardrobe before heading to the bathroom.
Your appearance makes you shudder when you seeing yourself in the mirror. You didn’t even take off your makeup, mascara and lipstick stains spread out on your face. Now it was time to really pray that you wouldn’t breakout from the old layer of foundation on your face. You grab a makeup wipe to get the gunk off of yourself before you step into an insanely hot shower.
You manage to shower quickly, scrubbing your body and face off of any stench left of you from last night. You step out, moisturizing each crevice that you can reach before you throw on your clothes. You feel 200% better now that you have showered and you can hear footsteps coming down from the hallway. Jennie appears at the bathroom door rubbing her eyes harshly.
“Good morning sleepyhead,” you comment and she stretches out her limbs, her dress hiked up far up her legs where her underwear is showing.
“Ugh!” She groans loudly, “My head is pounding. What the fuck happened last night?”
“There’s some medicine out in the kitchen,” you say as you follow her out into your living room and kitchen area. She goes immediately to the medicine cabinet and downs two pills with ease.
“Where are you going?” She asks as you began to gather up your school work into your book-bag.
“I have to study,” you tell her and she closes her eyes again, the sun being too harsh for the light.
“It’s Saturday Y/N,” she says obviously.
“I know,” you zip up your bag, throwing it over your shoulder, “But I have two midterms Monday—I can’t make below a B or I can get in trouble with the dean,” you explain and she nods, her sleepy gaze staring at you.
“Well, have fun. I’ll be here—dying,” she grins and you salute her off, leaving your shared apartment to go to the campus library.
The library is only about a ten minute walk and thankfully, not many students are flocking to the location on a Saturday afternoon. You assume that everyone is either hungover like Jennie or just don’t give a shit enough to come out and study.
You grab a coffee from the small coffee shop outside the library before you go in, sit down, and get to work on your studying. You turn on your classical music radio as you take out out your printed slides, notes, and textbooks. As strange as it is to say, as much as you hated studying—it’s where you felt the most comfortable. You knew you were smart and you knew school was your strongest trait—everyone knew that about you.
You go through each chapter of your human sciences class, writing and rewriting notes on new sheets of a paper. You make flashcards as you go along. You answer the obnoxiously long quiz questions at the end of your textbook as you go along. 
Thankfully, you haven’t had any distractions and before you know it, it’s been nearly two hours since you first sat down. Your coffee is now cold but you don’t care as you need the caffeine to keep you going. You are about to pull out all of your analytics material before suddenly, a coffee cup in placed on the table in front of you. You look at the source and look back down until you look up again. 
“Jungkook?” You ask pulling out one of your earbuds. His face is tired, the bags underneath his eyes prominent. He’s wearing a gray tracksuit, his hair messy underneath his somewhat contained beanie.
“H-hi,” he says simply, “Can I sit?” He asks referring to the chair across from you. You nod as he slings his backpack off and into the floor as he plops down in the chair.
“Hi,” you speak lowly. There’s tension between the two of you. It’s uncomfortable. You hate it, almost as much as you hate the sight you saw last night. “What’s up?” The question is simple, but forced.
He shrugs, “I dragged myself out to study despite my busting headache,” he says scratching the back of his neck.
“Jungkook in the library? To study? Did I hear that right?” You ask and he laughs slightly.
“Yup, unfortunately you did,” he answers before letting out a sigh. “I uh, got you this,” he slides the coffee cup over to you and you furrow your brows. You face heats up. Why would he buy you a coffee? The time Jungkook bought you something was a card and flowers the evening of your high school graduation, why the hell would he buy you a coffee?
“Thanks,” you laugh awkwardly grabbing the cup from him. You take a sip from the cup and realize it’s exactly how you like it. Three creams, an espresso shot, and a dash of vanilla flavoring. “How’d you know this is what I like?” You ask.
“Uh, you told me a few years back,” he says shy, his gaze ripping away from you. “I assumed it was the same, thank god,” he laughs trying to lighten up the mood.
“Thanks,” you repeat, unsure of what to say.
“Uh, how’s Jennie this morning?” He asks you with a genuine concern. You look from him, not being able to hold his gaze without burning up.
“She’s fine,” you say, keeping your eyes on your notes and hands in front of you.
“That’s good,” he says awkwardly. His leg is bouncing uncontrollably underneath the table and he feels like he needs to throw up.
“Why did you buy me this?” You ask him. He wants something, you can feel it.
“Um, no reason, I-I just saw you h-here and I know how much you love coffee,” he stumbles over his words and you meet his gaze again, before giving him a glare.
“Hm,” you mumble.
“Listen Y/N,” he starts, sounding more clear of his words, “I know we don’t really have a relationship anymore but, I-I just wanted to apologize to you about… the bathroom… last night,” he sighs and he hangs his head down for a second.
Your expression is blank and you shrug your shoulders with a small head shake, “Don’t worry about it.”
He nods slowly before a silence falls between you two.
“Listen, um I really have to get back to studying for my midterm tomorrow. Thank you again for the coffee,” you say with a small smile, trying your best to be cordial with him.
He nods getting ready to stand up but he stops abruptly, “What are you doing this week?”
The question catches you off guard.
“Oh, um,” your mouth is dry and it’s hard to find the words, “Probably studying, working, I don’t know,” you shrug again.
“Well uh, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up?” He bits his lip nervously, “We haven’t hung out in awhile, I thought maybe we could catch up?”
Awhile would be an understatement. The boy and you exchange another glance before you begin to nod hesitantly.
“Sure,” you answer simply.
“Cool,” he responds, “You still have the same number?” He asks. The question is weird. How is it that your best friend of so many years has to ask if your number is the same?
“Yeah,” you nod. He nods too, saying a quick goodbye before you watch as his built frame disappears into another corridor of the library, your eyes lingering a little too long on his built frame. What the hell was that?
_____
On Monday, both of your exams go a lot better than you were expecting them to. Your human sciences exam had already been graded and you made a 94 which in turn meant you were over the moon. Now you could only hope for that in analytics.
You know sat across from Jennie at one of your campus’s sandwich shops eating a late lunch.
“I don’t even know why you stress so much about your grades Y/N,” Jennie says, “You always end up with an A.”
“Jennie, I worry because if I don’t get A’s I can get kicked out of the honors program, you know this,” you say with pointed eyes, “Besides, I made a B in that business statistics class I had my freshman year, I’m still pissed about that!”
“Boohoo, I got a C minus in that class,” Jennie rolls her eyes, “All I’m saying is, you just need to loosen up. I know school is stressful but I know that you have to be going crazy.”
“I am going crazy Jennie,” you whine, “I’m just glad we don’t have much longer,” you sigh heavily.
“You and me both,” she adds, “I’m sorry I interrupted your stress relief the other night,” she says.
“What?”
She laughs, “You almost got dicked down by Namjoon and I ruined it,” she pouts and you giggle at her.
“It’s fine,” you shake your head, “He said we could pick it up another time.”
“Good, his fine piece of ass is something you gotta keep,” she smirks. Suddenly, your phone makes a ding on the table and you grab it quickly. Your eyes widen slightly when you see the text message.
[3:32 PM Jeon Jungkook] hey do you still want to do something this week?
“Who is that?” Jennie asks you.
“Uh, nobody,” you shake your head putting the phone back down.
“It most definitely is not nobody—your eyes are huge,” she points out. Dammit.
“Um,” you start, “Well last week at work, Jungkook, Taehyung, and their friend Hobi came in later at night,” you tell her, “And it was awkward and then I saw Jungkook at the party on Saturday.”
“We see him all the time at the parties we go,” she shrugs.
“I know, but then he came up to me in the library the other day…and bought me a coffee,” you finish.
Jennie’s eyes widen. “What?”
“I know right,” you say.
“Wonder what he wants from you?” She purses her lips.
“He asked if he wanted to go out this week,” you shrug, “He said we haven’t in awhile and he wanted to ‘catch up’,” you say.
Jennie’s eyebrows furrow. “Hm,” she mumbles, “Well are you going to?”
“I don’t know,” you tell her honestly, “I think I’ve seen enough of him to last me awhile.”
Jennie grimaces at you, “Come on Y/N,” she says, “You and Jungkook used to be inseparable, I don’t even know what the fuck happened to you two.”
“We just grew apart Jennie,” you tell her.
“Friendships like you and Jungkook don’t just ‘grow apart’,” she uses air quotes.
“Believe what you want,” you mutter, picking at your food suddenly not feeling too hungry.
“Why wouldn’t you go? There’s nothing stopping you is there?” She presses.
“Not exactly, but… I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” you mumble.
“Y/N, he’s your oldest friend,” she says, “You’ve known him longer than anyone else here, I know that you miss him as your friend,” she goes on.
“I don’t know Jennie, we’re not the same people we used to be. We’re not compatible as friends anymore, it’s weird.”
“How can it already be weirder than it is now? It’s weird as fuck that you two grew up together and don’t speak to each other anymore. I’d say go, just hangout, who knows what might happen,” she reasons and you cannot help but agree with her.
You don’t say anything else as you pull your phone back out.
[3:38 PM Me] Yeah I’m free tonight if you want to do something!
_____
Jungkook picks you up at seven on the dot. You feel nervousness settling in your stomach and you suddenly care about your appearance. When you open the door of your apartment and welcome him in, you have to tell yourself to keep your mouth closed.
He’s dressed in a sweatshirt and ripped jeans but he looks…so good? You hope you aren’t overdressed in your dress and denim jacket and he smiles when he meets your gaze.
“Hey,” he greets you and you welcome him into your apartment—a place he has never been.
“Hi,” you say grabbing your keys from the kitchen. “Jennie!” You shout and she emerges from the laundry room
“Yeah?” She stops dead in her tracks when she sees Jungkook. “Oh, hey Jungkook.”
“Hi,” he smiles.
“I’ll be back later,” you tell her, “What are you doing tonight?”
“I have to write a report and I guess I’m going to do your laundry since you’re lazier than shit,” she presses. You throw up your middle finger and turn to Jungkook.
“You ready?”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
_____
“Where are we going?” You ask him as you make your way outside, keeping a relative distance between you and him.
“You hungry?” Jungkook proposes, almost with a playful tone.
“Mhm,” you mumble, looking down at the ground as you walk. This was weird… so fucking weird. The last time you and Jungkook had hung out was around two and a half years ago—not even shitting. You wonder if he still liked the same things, had the same hobbies, ate the same food, but you were completely unsure of yourself in this circumstance. The nervousness hasn’t settled in your stomach and your mind wonders if he’s nervous too.
“Alright, c’mon,” he says and you meet his gaze before he changes direction with you in tow.
It’s not even a five minute walk—mind you, in silence—until we reach the place Jungkook had led you to.
“Really Jungkook?” You raise an eyebrow at him as you step into your all too familiar work place.
“What?” He laughs, “The food is good,” he continues.
“I’m starting to think you brought me here for my employee discount,” you press to him and he tilts his head.
“You have an employee discount?” He repeats, “Good to know,” he chuckles and in turn, you return a small laugh, feeling a little more comfortable.
Mark isn’t working tonight, but unfortunately, a girl named Kyla is and you absolutely despise her. Her biggest personality trait is just being a bitch—a bitch for no reason! Sure, you can have your bitchy moments but you’re not going to be a bitch to someone unless they deserve it.
“Y/N… Jungkook,” Kyla says slowly, looking between the two of you. “Just sit wherever you like,” she says. The restaurant is free real estate as you two are the only ones here.
You choose a booth, sliding in on one side, Jungkook on the other.
“Do you know her?” You ask Jungkook once she walks away from your table.
Jungkook looks pale, “I’ve met her, once or twice,” he says and it’s all the confirmation you need to understand that means he’s fucked her once or twice.
You don’t say anything else as you look through the menu, already knowing exactly what you want.
“When did you start working here?” Jungkook asks you.
“Oh, about a month ago,” you say. He already knows that. I guess you and Jungkook are really too that point, huh? Small, dull, repetitive conversation?
“How did your exams go?” He asks, chewing on his bottom lip. He’s nervous—you can sense it.
“Better than I thought,” you answer honestly.
“Hm, let me guess—you thought you did terrible but ended up getting an A,” he reads you perfectly.
“Hey! I don’t think like that,” you say even thought you know that is a fat lie.
“Come on Y/N, you’ve been that way since we were fourteen. Lying sends you to hell you know,” he raises an eyebrow at you and you look away from him to suppress your laugh.
“Fine. I got a 94 on one of them, I don’t know about the other one yet,” you tell him.
“See, you’re a genius,” he says and you shake your head.
“Most definitely not,” you say.
“I was always so envious of you growing up, you just sat there in school and you just… got it,” he says remembering back to your younger days, “All of us were jealous of you,” he adds.
“I can guarantee nobody was jealous of me Jungkook,” you give him a grimace, “We all were stupid in our own ways, maybe you more than anyone else,” you decide to pick on him since you’re feeling more relaxed as the conversation keeps going.
“Hey, no need to shit on me like that,” he gives you a pout.
Your phone suddenly vibrates against the table. It’s probably Jennie, you think to yourself as you flip the phone over. To your surprise, it’s not Jennie—It’s Namjoon.
[7:28 PM Kim Namjoon] hope you had a good day
[7:29 PM Kim Namjoon] mine would be a lot better if you were sitting on my cock right now
Your eyes widen and you flip the phone back over with a slam to the table. Jungkook looks at you curiously.
“Whose that?” He asks.
You want to lie, but Jungkook can tell when you’re lying. “Just Namjoon,” you tell him, “He was asking about some homework.”
Jungkook nods slowly before chewing on his bottom lip again, “You and hyung are good friends?”
Your face drops and you don’t say anything.
“I’m just asking since I’ve seen you guys together at our parties,” he adds while clearing his throat.
“Yeah, we’re friends,” is all that comes from your mouth. Jungkook’s eyes are hard to read but you can tell he knows you’re not saying what you’re actually thinking. What he wants you to do is be honest with him and tell him that yeah, you and Namjoon fuck from time to time, but of course, he doesn’t get that answer.
About twenty minutes later, Kyla is bringing your food.Your stomach growls as the scent of the food comes into your nostrils. The two of you begin eating, keeping some small talk between the two of you.
“Are you still a business major?” You ask him as you chow down on your French fries loaded with ketchup.
Jungkook scrunches his face up, “Hell no,” he shakes his head.
You stop your chewing momentarily, “Oh,” is all you can muster. “I’m sure that went over well with your father.”
Jungkook gives you a short glance, a smirk across his face, “It went as well as you can imagine.”
Growing up, Jungkook was expected to go to college, get a business degree of some kind and him and his older brother were to takeover his father’s company by the time he was 30—you would know, Jungkook would secretly complain to you about nonstop as teenagers.
“What are majoring in now?”
“Photography and film,” he answers boldly.
“Oh, wow,” you tell him, “That’s a big move.”
“I’d rather die than being forced to do something I don’t want to do, that’s no way to live life,” he munches on his burger, his eyes looking straight into yours.
“How’s Taehyung?” You ask him.
“He’s good,” he laughs a little bit, “Would you believe it if I told you he has a girlfriend?” He cocks his head slightly.
“Taehyung? And a girlfriend?” You say in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope,” he chuckles, “It’s weird though, he won’t introduce me to her, hell he won’t even tell me her name.”
You furrow your eyebrows, “That is weird,” you pause, “Maybe he thinks you’ll steal her,” you smirk jokingly. 
Jungkook shakes his head, “Taehyung’s got more game than I do, trust me,” he says with a laugh. 
“I’m assuming you don’t have a girlfriend?” You ask him nervously, biting down on your bottom lip.
Jungkook stops eating and rolls his tongue on the inside of his cheek, “No, I haven’t dated anyone since Yuna really.”
The confession surprises you and you somewhat don’t believe him.
“Why not?” You press.
He shrugs, “Just haven’t found anyone I like I guess, like, really like, you know?”
You nod understandingly. Before Namjoon (whom you aren’t even dating) you had dated this guy for awhile and he was nice but you were bored as fuck in that relationship. Thankfully, you moved on from that onto better things.
Once the two of you finish your meals, Jungkook pays before you can protest and you leave the restaurant around 8:30 PM. You shove your hands into your jacket and walk along beside of Jungkook, lazily kicking rocks when you come across them.
“So, what did I do to deserve a free meal and a coffee from Jeon Jungkook in the span of two days?” You look up at him and he glances down to you quickly.
“I said I wanted to catch up, how else was I supposed to do that?” He smirks and you hit his arm playfully.
You don’t say anything so he continues.
“I don’t know, it’s just when I saw you last week working, I hadn’t seen you in so long… let alone speak to you,” he pauses, “It made me realize that I miss our friendship, I missed us…” he trails off, looking straight ahead.
“Why didn’t you reach out sooner?” You ask him seriously.
Jungkook hesitates some, “You could have reached out too, the phone works both ways” his words are unexpected, harsh. And they somewhat hurt.
You don’t say anything again, feeling a sting in your chest.
“I didn’t mean it like that Y/N,” Jungkook say, stopping his path to stand in front of you, “It’s just… we haven’t spoken in so long. I feel like you’re a completely different person ever since we got here to university. I don’t know what happened—“
“You don’t know what happened?” Your tone is sharp. “Are you stupid Jungkook?”
He looks taken aback, “W-what?”
“When we were eighteen and you fucking kissed me that’s what happened and that’s when shit changed Jungkook, don’t act like you don’t know,” you sound angry to which, you are. Talking about this gets you riled up.
Jungkook lowers his head, “We should have talked about that, I know but—“
“But what Jungkook? It ruined our friendship and you know it.”
“I ruined it?” He now sounds pissed off. “What ruined our friendship was you acting like I didn’t exist once we got here to college. You blew me off and blew me off time and time again,” he runs a hand through his hair, “I tried to maintain this friendship and you know it. If that stupid, fucking, drunken kiss bothered you that bad, you should have been a big girl and told me.”
You feel frustrated and you feel tears are threatening to spill out of you. You want to comeback with something, but you know he’s right. He did try and you were the one to put distance between you both.
“I-I,” you start but no words come out. “I’m sorry Jungkook. It’s just when we got here, things got more complicated and more stressful, and I couldn’t afford distractions—“
“So I’m a distraction now?”
“What? No, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” you shake your head in protest.
“So, hanging out at fraternity houses every weekend, getting hammered with Jennie every weekend, smoking pot once in awhile, and fucking Namjoon isn’t a distraction? But your best friend of fourteen years is a distraction?” Jungkook’s words come out in a frenzy and you feel slightly attacked.
“Excuse me what? Jungkook no—“ you stop yourself from speaking. You know he’s right but that doesn’t give him a right to attack you like that. “So, what’s your excuse then for not being the bigger person than, huh? Getting sucked off too many times in a bathroom and you realized you don’t need my attention anymore? Huh?”
Jungkook’s eyes darken and you can tell he’s pissed off.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He asks you.
“Jungkook, you’re my oldest friend—“
“You don’t treat me like it—“
“Well neither do you,” you back go back and forth with each other. You’re frustrated. Angry. Sad.
Jungkook is fighting a battle in his head. “I’m sorry okay,” he says, “I think we both can admit we’ve acted shitty to each other.”
You look away from him staring aimlessly at your lap, “I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Neither should have I,” he says. “I just wish you had told me about that stupid kiss, we could have talked through it Y/N. I wasn’t thinking back then.”
“Why did you kiss me?”
Jungkook’s eyes look panicked and he scratches the back of his neck.
“I had a stupid little crush on you at the time okay? And alcohol doesn’t help, it only intensified my feelings.”
“What?” Your mouth drops agape at the confession.
“I know, stupid right,” he shakes his head, “Fuck I wished we had discussed this sooner because this is so embarrassing,” he laughs while shaking his head.
You’re in disbelief. Jungkook liked you? How did you not know? It makes your insides tingle at the thought, but you know you shouldn’t get excited so you drown out the feeling deep within you. 
“Well, that was years ago,” you tell him, “All we can do now is look ahead,” your breath is uneven and shaky.
“You’re right,” he mutters, “I really am sorry Y/N, I-I just want you as a friend again—“
“I forgive you Jungkook. And I’m sorry too.”
What Jungkook does next is unexpected but all too familiar. He grabs your chin and squeezes it in his hand. You swat him away with a laugh as he pulls you in by an arm. You oblige his movements and rest your head on his shoulder as the two of you keep walking. There’s something oddly intimate about this gesture. And the whole atmosphere has changed but you like it—it feels… like home.
“Can I ask you something?” You mumble.
“You just did,” he laughs and his chest rumbles underneath you.
“Shut the fuck up,” you lean up from him with a smile, “Namjoon said you talk about me a lot…?” You trail off your question. You could be sneaky if you really wanted to be.
“He did?” Jungkook panics. Fucking Namjoon, he thinks to himself. “W-what did he say?” He stumbles on his words.
“Just stuff,” you respond hesitantly, “He may or may not have said that you called me hot.” Jungkook freezes beside of you.
“Fucking hell, I’m gonna kill hyung,” he mutters underneath his breath, “Look I’m sorry okay—I was really drunk and I saw you at one of our parties in this short ass dress and fuck, yeah I said you were hot—I’m sorry okay? I know that’s so fucking weird jeez, I’m sorry—“
“Jungkook it’s fine,” you laugh interrupting his rambling. “It’s not weird, I just wanted to know whether or not Namjoon was feeding me shit.”
“You don’t think it’s weird?” He asks and you can sense that he is very embarrassed. “I told you, I’m not good with my alcohol.”
You shake your head, “I mean, you’re pretty hot too if I say so myself,” the words tumble from your mouth and you actually want to crawl in a hole and die. Did you just say that?! Jungkook looks at you as you turn your face away from him. Fuck, he thinks to himself. He glances down your body and notices the cleavage coming through your dress and the way you hair is pulled to one side. Fuck, he thinks again, yeah, stupid little crush three years ago my ass.
“Can I tell you something?” His voice his quiet, serious.
“Of course,” you look up at him with a concern face.
“You can’t tell anyone—not even Jennie,” he says, his voice low. You give him a confused look, but nod anyways.
“What’s wrong?” You ask him. He bits at his lip, feeling uneasy.
He takes in a deep breath before exhaling, “When I changed my major a few months back, my parents threatened to cut me off—“
“Whoa, what?”
“And they’re still threatening to if I don’t get my shit straight.”
“Jungkook, I don’t get what you’re saying? Have you done something?” You ask him, feeling already too uneasy about where this conversation is going.
“No, I haven’t done anything—that’s the problem. I haven’t proved to them that I’m worthy for them to keep paying for my school. I haven’t proved to them that I can get a job somewhere. My grades aren’t proving anything to them.”
“What are you gonna do if they cut you off? You can’t pay for this shit-hole by yourself—they know that.” You notice the way his jaw is grinding and his breathing is shaking.
“Please don’t get mad at me,” he mumbles quietly. Oh god. “Recently I started taking up, um… boxing,” he says, unsure of his words.
“…Okay?” You say slowly.
“I’ve been fighting, like underground fighting,” you almost don’t hear him, but then you do, and you want to laugh in his face—but he’s being serious.
“Fighting? Jungkook what the fuck?!” You push yourself away from the comfort of his side, “Are you crazy?!”
“I’m getting paid for the fights—if I win at least,” he tries to sound reasonable but to you, you want to scream at him in anger.
“Jungkook, are you fucking kidding me? You’re fighting? Instead of finding a real job?”
“Y/N you don’t understand—I make thousands of dollars for one fight—it’s my best chance right now.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you shake your head, pulling your hands through your hair in frustration, you cannot believe this man right now.
“What are you going to do about school then? Huh?” You press him.
“I-I was hoping you would help me, at least try to tutor me,” he says hesitantly and your stomach drops. You don’t say anything for a moment, unsure if you want to scream or cry at him.
“So this is the reason why you wanted to rekindle our friendship, so I could be your fucking tutor?”
“What no—“
“Are you fucking kidding me Jungkook? I cannot believe you right now,” your voice is getting louder by the minute. You start to walk away from him back to your apartment by yourself, unable to even look at him right now.
“Wait—no, please Y/N,” Jungkook runs to you, grabbing your hand and pulls you back to him, “I know this is all bad timing but I really did miss having you as a friend and you’re the only person, I could tell this to, at least for now,” he quickly explains.
“What, so you want me to help you through school while you get the shit knocked out of you for money?” You ask him, “Jungkook I don’t want to see you go through that, you have to find another option,” your eyes are pleading with him. His grip moves from your hand to your waist which causes your heart to race irregularly.
“Y/N, please I know it’s not the best but it really is my best option. I need someone there for me and I need that person to be you,” his face is too close for comfort and you back away from him a few inches.
“Jungkook, I don’t know,” you shake your head.
“Please, Y/N, I’m begging you,” he says again.
“Have you told anyone?” You ask him.
“Aside from you, only Taehyung knows—and Yoongi, he was the one to introduce me to it.” Yoongi—a name you’re not familiar with.
“Fucking hell Jungkook,” you lean your head back, trying to contain your emotions.
“Please you can’t tell anyone Y/N, I can get in serious trouble by obtaining money this way.”
“Yeah because it’s fucking illegal,” you spit at him. You find his hand to grip a little too tightly and you want to scream at Jungkook. How could he be so stupid? And how were you going to let him be so stupid?
“I’ll help you with school Jungkook, but the fighting… I don’t know,” you tell him, “You know I’m not going to be okay with that.”
“If you makes you feel any better, I haven’t lost. The most I’ve walked away with is a few scraps and bruises on my arms,” he tries to lighten up your mood but it doesn’t work. “I promise I won’t get hurt, I know what I’m doing,” he nudges you trying to loosen you up some. He hands end up grabbing yours, intertwining them tightly.
“Don’t make me promises you can’t keep Jungkook,” you tell him and his face falls again. Both of you look at your intertwined hands. “At least promise me you’ll be careful,” you plead him.
“Of course. I promise,” he says giving your hand a squeeze. Without warning, he pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly. Your hands snake up against his neck and pull him close to you as well.
His scent is all too familiar and it scares you that you’ve missed out on him growing into the handsome adult he is now. And now, you have to fear for his wellbeing. Fuck. Jungkook pulls away from you and your faces meet a little too close for comfort. His nose brushes against yours, his eyes burning holes into you.
“I’d trust you with my life Y/N,” he speaks again, “And I’m trusting you with this.”
Your breath hitches as his nose brushes yours again. Fuck, you think to yourself. You bite your lip, knowing that you wold absolutely die for this boy and it takes all of you to grip his shirt and push him away from you. You feel less suffocated once your space is empty and Jungkook’s hand stays in yours as he walks you home. It’s a good thing, you think, that you’ve had a stupid little crush on him too or you would most definitely not do this shit for him.
_____
“So,” Jennie says slowly, “How was it?”
You hadn’t even walked into your apartment five feet before Jennie is rushing questions onto you.
“Um,” you pause, taking the time to take off your shoes, “It went... well,” you say, unsure of your words. Did it go well? You weren’t sure considering the two of you were in an argument nearly the whole way home.
“Well?” Jennie asks, curiosity dripping in her tone, “I need more details than that. What’d you do? What did you guys talk about?”
“Um, we just kind of caught up on things,” you knew you had to tread your words lightly. “It felt pretty normal.” You add at the last second, giving her a weak smile. She narrows her eyes at you.
“That’s it?” She somewhat frowned.
“What did you want me to say?” You give her a laugh as you begin to walk back towards your room and undress into your sleepwear. She follows your footsteps closely.
“I don’t know! I was just expecting more, more from you! You seem awfully quiet,” she says plopping down on your bed that she is oh-so accustomed to.
You look through your drawers and pull out a big t-shirt and slip it over your head. You turn to Jennie and give her another pathetic attempt of a smile.
“It’s just weird okay,” you tell her, climbing onto your bed with her, “This was the first time we’ve actually hung out by ourselves in years and I don’t know, it was good, like we picked up where we left off you know?” You knew that was a complete lie but you needed to get Jennie off your case or you were afraid you would let your worries slip.
She lets out a sigh, “I guess so. I do think about high school sometimes and we really had it good… the four of us,” she smiles fondly thinking back to simpler times.
“Yeah… we did,” you agree staring up at your ceiling.
“How’s Taehyung by the way? Did Jungkook mention him?”
You give a glance at Jennie and she’s looking at her overgrown nails. “He’s good, Jungkook said he had a girlfriend which surprised me.”
“Hm,” Jennie shrugged, “Interesting.”
You furrowed your eyebrows while looking at her. “Interesting?” You found her answer odd but she brushes it off.
“Yeah, well I have homework to do that isn’t gonna do itself unfortunately,” she stands up from your bed, “See you in the morning, goodnight.” She throws you a quick wink before she leaves, shutting your bedroom door behind of her.
You let out a sigh of relief when she leaves. As happy as you were that you and Jungkook reconnected some tonight, the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach was keeping you from focusing on the good. You couldn’t believe what Jungkook had gotten himself into. Boxing? For money? You knew Jungkook never had much common sense but this takes it to another level. You now knew one of his deepest secrets and not only could that seriously backfire on you if something went wrong. He said he trusted you with his fucking life for Christ’s sake. Who says that to someone they’ve barely spoken to in two years? Someone who is desperate, you think.
You grab a book from your nightstand for one of your classes and flip to your last read page, trying to rid your mind of Jungkook getting the shit beat out of him. And as much as you read your book and your eyelids fall sleepy, you manage to barely sleep that night, as images of your old friend are burned into your brain.
_____
It wasn’t long after your first meetup with Jungkook that he started asking for tutoring help. Jungkook knew your schedule was busy and he didn’t want to pressure you into anything, but the more you were around Jungkook, the more desperate you were to help him. You have known him for so long and despite all your differences, he truly was and will always be one of your best friends. And best friends helped each other. Right?
“Hey—sorry I’m late,” you meet Jungkook in the back of the fourth floor of the library after your last class of the day. “I had a question about my lecture—“
“Y/N it’s fine,” Jungkook says softly, not looking up from his paper, “Don’t worry about it.”
You set down beside of him and begin to take your belongings out of your backpack and you notice Jungkook has already begun some work himself.
“How was classes today?” You ask him opening up your laptop. You give him a glance and he’s focused on the problem in front of him.
“It was alright, I slept through my first one at ten—“
“What’s that?” You ask as you let your eyes focus a little too close on his face. A cut lined across his jaw and up towards his left ear and you felt yourself begin to panic.  “Jungkook what—“
“Don’t worry about it,” he’s being cold and distant and you don’t like it. You look down his arms and onto his hands and notice some cuts and bruises there too. That’s when it hits you.
“Jungkook did you have a fight recently?” You keep your voice low so no one else could hear. He visibly tenses up beside of you and he adjusts his beanie on his to try and cover his ear area.
“Yeah,” he says simply, his eyes not looking at you one time, still focusing on the paper ahead.
“Jungkook,” your tone is deep and not happy, but you suppose there isn’t much you can do in this situation. Curiosity got the best of you and you ask, “What happened?”
“Let’s not talk about that okay?” He turns to you fully and you inwardly gasp, seeing that his right eye is half blacked behind his glasses. You feel sick to your stomach and your mouth parts. Again, you don’t say anything and just give him a nod.
The rest of the tutoring session with him goes smoothly and Jungkook has significantly picked up his understanding of his classes in a short amount of time, but in the back of your mind you wanted to scream. Scream at him. How could he be doing this to himself? He first told you he was fine. He sure doesn’t look fine. It’s getting close to 7 o’clock when you tell him you have to go get ready for your shift at the diner in an hour.
“We can pick up again whenever you need to,” you tell, “And text me if you have any questions.”
“What are you doing this weekend?” Jungkook completely ignores your sentences and you turn to him, trying not to stare at the faint of blue under his eye.
“Um, I have another shift tomorrow that starts at 7,” you tell him.
“Can you get off?” He asks almost nervously as the two of you begin to leave the library.
You chuckle, “Probably not, why?”
“Well, Taehyung and I are having a small get together at our apartment and I wanted to know if you and Jennie wanted to come?”
He sounds genuine and you know it could be fun and a little different from the chaotic frat scene that you’re used to.
“Sure, I’m sure Jennie will be down,” you give him a smile to which he returns one for the first time tonight. “If I can’t get off work I’ll just come after my shift.”
“Sounds good,” he says and you are about to part ways before he grabs your arm to stop you, “Thanks again Y/N, for helping me out,” there’s a glimmer in his eyes.
“No problem, it’s what a friend would do right?” You give him your best smile although it feels weird saying that. His face drops in the slightest way.
“Yeah…” he trails off, his hand trailing down your arm before letting go, “See you soon?”
You give him a nod, “See you soon.”
_____
Your shift at the diner tonight was being particularly slow for a Tuesday and you found yourself aimlessly making lattes for yourself every thirty minutes. You were slightly jacked from the caffeine but you knew you would need it once you went home to finish off the load of your homework for the night. Bedtime as of right now was looking to be 3 AM, possibly 4. Mark is once again working with you tonight which makes it all the more bearable, but the more you stand behind the counter, sipping your coffee, the more you realize you do not want to waste tomorrow night working.
“Hey, Mark,” you say and he looks up from his book.
“What’s up?” He asks, his eyes focussing on you.
“Would you care…. to possibly… take my shifts this weekend?” You ask slowly, dancing around the topic. His eyebrows furrow and you could tell that is not what he wanted to hear from you.
“I mean… I don’t care to, but can I ask why?”
Shit. You couldn’t say it was to go to a small party. That would be an automatic no.
“Well, I’ve been tutoring someone recently and it's taken away from my own study time, so I really need all weekend to catch up on all my shit,” you say smoothly. Not a complete lie, but he didn’t need to know you would be catching up on your “shit” tonight and not this weekend.
“Yeah, sure whatever,” he waves his hand off, “Just be sure to tell our manager before you leave.”
“Right… thanks Mark.”
“That means you owe me a shift in the future,” he says pointedly.
“Yeah, yeah, read your fucking book.”
_____
Friday was a blur. You went to sleep around 3:45 AM. Had to wake up at 7 AM for your 8 AM lecture, dragged your feet to your other classes, barely had time to eat anything, only consuming coffee to suppress your appetite in the afternoon, and now that you were home you couldn’t wait to lay in your bed for a few hours.
Jennie didn’t have classes on Friday’s—fuck her—so she had been chilling all day when you burst through the door exhausted.
“You look horrible,” she said as soon as you flopped down on the couch beside of her.
“You don’t have to tell me that,” you groan covering your eyes.
“Well you better get rested up before tonight,” she says.
“What’s tonight?” You mumble, nearly drifting off to sleep right then and there.
“Jungkook invited us to his apartment, that’s what you said last night,” she gave you a funny look before shaking her head.
Shit. You had forgotten about that throughout your drowsy state all day.
“Yeah, right,” you pause, looking at her through the crack of your arm, “Wake me up at 7 to get ready.” You stand up planning on taking the fattest nap of your life.
“I-I captain!” Jennie says sarcastically and it’s the last thing you hear before passing out on your bed, not even bothering to put a blanket over you.
_____
Jungkook and Taehyung’s apartment isn’t far from yours. You wouldn’t say the exterior is nicer than yours, but the abundance of buildings shows that their community is much larger than the one you and Jennie share.
“This is right?” Jennie asks as you knock on the door heavily.
“Yeah,” you say, faintly hearing music from the other side of the door.
The door swings open and to your surprise, it’s Taehyung.
“Jennie, Y/N!” He smiles widely at the two of you before ushering you in. “It’s been wayyyy too long! You guys want a drink?”
You take a second to look around their apartment, not seeing Jungkook anywhere. There’s about two dozen people here, some playing pong, others sitting around the living area. You knew Taehyung was feeling a little drunk despite it being only 9 from the way he grabs a couple cups, the entire tower of them falling over.
“How have you guys been?!” Taehyung pours some cheap tequila into your red solo cups and hands them over.
“Good, what about you?” Jennie smiles to him and Taehyung pours another shot for himself.
“Fucking great,” he says before putting his cup out. The three of you bump cups and down the tequila, a familiar burn hitting you instantly. It’s oddly reminiscent, the three of you drinking alcohol like there are no problems with the world.
“Where’s Jungkook?” You ask, giving another glance around the apartment, only recognizing some of his frat brothers, but him still not to be found.
“He went to get more alcohol and some other things,” Taehyung says, pouring another shot for the two of you. “I heard the two of you finally got over your bullshit?”
You furrow your eyebrows and Jennie laughs. “W-what?” You have to laugh too, “Bullshit?”
“You know, how the two of you acted like neither of you existed? God it was so annoying hearing that little bitch talk about you constantly,” he rolls his eyes dramatically and Jennie eyes you suspiciously.
“Uh, yeah—“ you were unsure of what to say, “Heard you have a girlfriend now?” You change the subject quickly and Jennie raises her eyebrows at Taehyung.
“Really?” Jennie says almost passively. Taehyung doesn’t glance at you, only looking to Jennie.
“Yeah,” he says, “C’mon, drink your shit. The night is young and you guys need to catch up!”
“Or you need to slow down?” You offer and only giggles again. You down another shot and at this pace, you’ll be passed out by 11, Jennie by 10. You’ve always handle your alcohol better than her, but a shot every two minutes will do anyone in.
The three of you talk aimlessly, somewhat of an unresolved tension between Jennie and Taehyung that is impossible to avoid until you get some more alcohol in you. You’re about four shots of Jose Cuervo in and sipping on some type of seltzer when your phone buzzes in your hand.
[9:46 PM Namjoon] hey, wrud tonight
[9:46 PM You] at a friend’s place tonight, wbu
Your eyes are having trouble to focus as the alcohol begins to settle in your system. You remember vividly how you barely had any food today and you know you should stop drinking otherwise you might puke everywhere.
[9:48 PM Namjoon] damn, missing you. I believe you still owe me a rain check
You laugh at your phone.
[9:48 PM You] soon, I promise lol
“Jungkook! Fuck yes my brother!”
You instantly look up from your phone and see Jungkook walking through the front door, a case of beer in one hand and a brown bag in the other. He smiles as he sets down the case and bag of liquor as his brothers crowd around him to grab a can.
Do you go up to him? Yes, are you, stupid? But shouldn’t he look for you? What are you twelve?
Your internal monologue is interrupted when Taehyung pulls you over to Jungkook with a small push.  
“Hey Y/N,” Jungkook smiles, grabbing a beer for himself. He’s wearing a hat to cover his forehead.
“Hi,” you smile and he gives you a small, somewhat awkward hug.
“Glad you could make it,” he says, the bruises on his face from the other day already looking a lot better.
“I was not going to spend my Friday night at the restaurant,” you laugh, trying intensely to focus on his face and not zone in and out as you tend to do drunkenly.
“Jennie here?” He asks.
“Yeah, she’s uh,” you pause, actually not knowing where she went. “Oh, she’s playing pong with Taehyung.”
“Come on then,” he reaches out his hand, “Let’s play with them.”
“Jungkook I’m terrible, you know that—“
“I never said you were good, but for old times sake?” His brown eyes bore into yours and you give in, nodding your head and settling your hand into his. His hands are warm—always have been. Slightly rough and calloused but smooth—what the fuck, stop it!
The four of you, girls verses boys, start a new game of pong and you’re sure Jennie is just as bad as you. That’s evident when Jungkook and Taehyung lob four in, one after another. You’re lucky you get one in their cups. Jennie, too drunk at this point, can’t even throw straight. The whole sight is very funny as the four of you laugh like you’re the only ones in the room.
“Come on Y/N!” Taehyung yells, “I knew you were ass but really?!”
“Me! What about her!” You defend yourself as Jennie throws a ball at Jungkook’s head.
“At least Y/N can aim!” Jungkook laughs, defending you as well, rubbing his head from the plastic impact.
The game ends with Jungkook calling island and you don’t even care at this point. Pong was and never will be your favorite. Flip cup was your speciality and even Taehyung knew that. You find yourself sitting with Jungkook on their couch, legs tucked underneath you, watching at Taehyung and Jennie take on another round of pong with Jackson—a fraternity brother—and his long time girlfriend—Mina, maybe?
“Are you even drunk right now?” You deadpan Jungkook with your eyes and he gives you a small smile.
“Nah,” he says, “You are though,” he says pointedly drinking from his beer.
“Hey—“ you point, “Only a little,” you whisper close to his ear and he laughs at you again. “You sir, need to drink.”
Jungkook shakes his head before standing up, your eyes following up his jeans to his t-shirt clad chest. Has he always looked like this? You grab onto his extended hand and he leads you away from everyone and your heart rate quickens. Where are you going? What’s he doing?
To your relief, he takes to the small outside balcony, sliding the door nearly closed as you step out. There’s two other people out here smoking cigarettes that greet you and Jungkook curiously. You have seen these boys before, but you know they don’t recognize you. They obviously think you’re some random girl Jungkook has invited but—if they only knew.
The fresh air feels nice, but you can feel a chill running down your spine and you watch Jungkook’s frame go to a dark corner of the balcony, bending down to pick something off the ground.
“What are you doing?” You ask him and he turns back to you and you send some interesting paraphernalia in his hands.
“Not in a drinking mood tonight,” he says, his eyes leaving yours before focusing on the small glass bowl in his hands. He starts to pack it and you’re watching his every move closely. You never knew Jungkook to be a stoner, but the way he packs it quickly and begins to light it, tells you otherwise. He inhales through the end of the bowl deeply, exhaling once, before quickly taking another hit.
“Goddamn,” you laugh and he starts to cough a little bit, a small laugh coming from him.
Jungkook begins to walk back to the corner before you grab his shirt to pull him back.
“You heard of sharing is caring?” You say and he shakes his head.
“No, you’re drunk, you don’t need—“
“I want too,” you say. You hadn’t smoked in awhile, but you knew you could trust Jungkook. “Come on, I’m fine.”
Jungkook hesitates a little before he holds out the bowl. You take it and hold is securely between your lips. He lights the underside and you inhale deeply. The balcony begins to smell like weed, but it doesn’t bother you, it never has. You exhale and give him a small smile. He puts the illegal substances away and stands beside of you on the balcony.
“Alright, that will be five dollars,” he says and you turn to him, your mouth agape.
“Five dollars a hit? Kiss my ass,” you say and you suddenly begin to feel the effects of the marijuana, which makes you giggle a little too long.
“How was your day?” Jungkook asks you and you nearly feel like you could fall asleep.
“Exhausting,” you mumble, “I got like four hours of sleep last night and one of my professors had the audacity to tell me that my answer was wrong on my homework when literally five other people had the same answer and got it right. And then I had coffee as my meals and had a busting headache until I took the longest nap of my fucking life—“
“Slow down,” Jungkook interjects with a laugh, “Too much information that I’m not processing right now.”
You let out an “ugh” before saying, “I’ve had better days for sure.” You leave it at that. “What about you?”
He smiles before turning to you completely, “I’ve had better days, better weeks for sure.” He almost sounds annoyed now, like something is deeply bothering him.
You let a pause presume between the two of you, unsure of what to say. You know you shouldn’t bring it up, but you can’t help it. The bruises on his face, the cuts on his hands—you needed to know what happened to him. Despite your intoxicated state, you could form sentences and think pretty clearly and you weren’t letting Jungkook out of your sight without explaining himself.
“Jungkook,” you say in a whisper, looking around to see if the other guys had left. They had. “Are you gonna tell me what happened to your face?”
He looks down, almost embarrassed. “There was a fight on Tuesday,” he stops when you furrow your eyebrows at him.
“Tuesday?!” You half whisper, “What the hell are you doing fighting on a Tuesday? Jungkook you said—“
“It wasn’t an official fight Y/N,” he interrupts you, “I was fucking jumped with one of my friends,” he says and your eyes widen. You feel your head spinning and your mouth goes dry. From the weed, alcohol, or the conversation? You’re not sure.
“What?” You ask, worry filling your tone, “Jungkook what the fuck! You said you had this under control.”
“Keep your voice down!” He scolds, “I do have it under control, although you can’t really control when you get jumped.”
“W-why? Who would want—“
“His name is Eric. I beat him at the last real fight and I guess he’s a sore fucking loser. He wants a rematch and everything, said he was injured before the fight, so he sent some pussies to jump my friend Jimin and I.”
The information being taken in wasn’t something you wanted to hear. Was this stupid underground boxing that serious? And how stupid could Jungkook be to continue to do this?
“Well you’re not gonna fight him again,” you pause. He doesn’t look at you. “Are you?”
“There’s a lot of money on the line,” he says.
“Jungkook you’ve got to be joking.”
“I’m not Y/N,” he turns to you again, his body now closer than before. His knuckles gripping the railing are pale and cracked. “If I win this fight, I won’t need anymore money before the end of the year. Hell, I’ll probably even have some left over.”
“Okay? And?”
“Then I can be done with fighting,” he sounds genuine but insincere  at the same time. This greatly improves your posture and you feel your heartbeat calming down.
“B-but I figured you would need more money? Your parents Jungkook?” You stumble over some of your words.
“Y/N you don’t understand the money within these things, it’s insane. Trust me, I’ll be set with money for awhile. I just have to win that fight…”
You want to protest him. Tell him he shouldn’t do it, that he should find a normal job, get away from that stuff—but you stay silent. Jungkook always will be as stubborn as you and he seems to have made up his mind about this fighting stuff awhile ago. At the end of the day, whatever happens to him, isn’t necessarily your business.
“You know I’ll never agree with this,” you shake your head, looking down at Jungkook’s hands. They’ve relaxed against the railing and time has slowed down significantly. Every blink of your eyes seem to last 5 seconds and Jungkook could say the same thing.
“I know,” Jungkook steps towards you, overlapping one of his hands with yours, “But like I said, I trust you and you should trust me,” he almost sounds desperate. “Look at me,” he whispers and you slowly turn your head up. Your noses are nearly touching and you can smell him, your vision clouding in the dark.
“Do you trust me?” He asks quietly, licking his lips and you swallow, trying to find your breath.
You nod your head slowly, “Yes.”
You don’t know who leans in first, but when your lips meet, it’s like a siren goes off. The scene feels all too familiar. His lips are soft and they feel just like you remember. He’s gentle with you, his left hand holding your waist to pull you towards him, your bodies flush together. One of your hands finds their way to his hair and you pull him down closer to you. This feels good, really good—but isn’t this wrong? You two have just rekindled your relationship and you two didn’t even last four weeks before you two are snogging—the very reason your friendship became weird in the first place all those years ago.
You try to pull away, “Jungkook—“ he closes the gap once again and it’s like a drug—touch is like heroin in your veins. Both of you are hungry—hungry for each other. You’re not sure when, but you find yourself backed into the wall of the dark-side of the balcony. The door isn’t in view so anyone inside couldn’t see what was going on right now thank god.
“Y/N,” the groan sends your body into overdrive and he begins to trail his lips down your neck and you’ve pulled him so close to you there is barely room to breathe. It’s gotta be the alcohol—or the weed—or just Jungkook—but you’ve never wanted anyone more in your life. You squeeze your thighs together to find some unrelieved friction and Jungkook senses what you’re doing. He stops you, forcing is own leg between your crotch and you subtly moan.
“Fuck, shh,” Jungkook scolds and it makes you laugh as you check if anyone is coming to the door.
“Jungkook,” you whisper and he closes the gap between you again, covering your mouth gently and you genuinely feel butterflies in your stomach. Jungkook’s hand trails from your waist down to the front of you jeans and you pull away suddenly, “Jungkook w-what are you doing?!”
“Do you want me to do this?” He sounds mischievous as he pops open the button to your pants and you can safely say you never thought you would be in this situation with Jeon Jungkook of all people, but you are not about to stop him.
You kiss him this time, pulling on his hair, eliciting another delicious groan from him. His hand makes it way to your center and you shiver in the cold, his hands warm against your underwear. He rubs you through the material, once, twice, three times before he moves aside the fabric—the wetness covering his fingers instantly. You look towards the door again nervous that someone might walk out here and see the two of you compromised—you would die. Especially if it was Taehyung or Jennie.
“Quiet, alright?” Jungkook whispers and you nod biting your lip as he enters a finger into you. You close your eyes, mouth falling open. Your breathing picks up as he enters a second digit. His fingers are long and calloused as you noticed before but it feels so good. He brings one of your legs around his waist so he can get deeper into your center and a small, squeaky moan escapes from your mouth. Jungkook shuts you up by kissing you again and he begins to move his fingers in and out, curling them in all the right places, sending you into a silent mess.
You and Jungkook shouldn’t be doing this—not here, not right now, not ever. But you’re not doing anything to stop it. Neither is he. Is this suppose to be happening then? No—definitely yes. Wait, what? Your brain is so foggy you can’t even think straight.
Jungkook has added a third finger and it’s becoming harder and harder to stay quiet. Jungkook’s face in the crook of your neck, your neck in his—it’s all a little too intimate but it’s hot and heavy and it feels so good. Jungkook begins to use his thumb to find your clit, which he does with no problem—rubbing there and still moving in and out of you. Goddamn, he knows what he is doing.
“Jungkook, I’m gonna—“
“Shh,” he says, “Bite me, anywhere,” he says and you do as he says, your teeth clamping down onto his shoulder as you feel yourself falling off the edge. Your orgasm comes in a huge wave and it’s one of the best you’ve had in a long time—your body is shaking and you whimper into his shoulder, trying to keep as quiet as possible. Jungkook lets you finish before he pulls his hand out of your pants, letting your leg drop. You two stare at each other for a couple seconds, unsure of what to do now. You knew that Jungkook was hard in his pants but you weren’t sure if he wanted you to do anything about it. Should you ask? No that’s fucking weird. Well it’s fucking weird you just let your best friend of a billion years to give you one of the best orgasms of your life.
“Um,” he speaks first, “We should go back inside,” he says.
You nod, “Yeah, we should.”
You follow closely behind him as he slides the door open and you step back into the much warmer apartment.
“Y/N! Jungkook! What were you guys doing?!” Jennie pops out of nowhere until she steps back, “Fuck never mind, I can smell it,” she laughs, her eyes looking between the two of you. “What’s wrong with you two? Are you fighting again? Jesus fucking—“
“No, we’re fine, just high,” Jungkook gives her a reassuring smile and she nods absentmindedly. She is very drunk and then two of you might have to go home sooner than later.
“I need to call an Uber,” you say grabbing your phone from your pocket.
“I can drive you guys if you want,” Jungkook offers and you narrow your eyes at him.
“Absolutely not, you’re high.” You say pulling up the app on your phone.
“I’ve driven high before it’s not—“
“Jungkook, no,” you somewhat snap at him. This kid really knows how to grind your gears. “Thanks for inviting us, I just don’t want Jennie to do something she regrets tomorrow morning.” You try your best to lighten to mood but it’s not helping. As much progress as you and Jungkook had made the past few weeks, that all feels gone now. There’s heaviness with you and him and you hate it.
“Just let me know when you make it home?” Jungkook’s eyes are hard to read. He looks worried, anxious, high obviously, and other potential obscurities.
“I will, I promise,” you give him a smile and he returns one weakly. You look over your shoulder to find Jennie practically draping herself all over Taehyung. Fuck. “Jennie! Come on! We’re leaving,” you stomp over to the two of them and Taehyung doesn’t seemed bothered by Jennie throwing herself at him at all. If anything, they both seem to like it. “Jennie, quit, he has a girlfriend. Taehyung, you have a girlfriend,” you narrow at the both of them.
Taehyung laughs very drunkenly, “You’re right, come on Jen,” Taehyung pushes her away slightly and she stumbles over her feet.
“Our Uber is almost here,” you tell her and she nods.
“Sounds good,” she gives you a thumbs up. 
“Help me walk her Tae?” You ask and he nods.
As you and Taehyung have Jennie up around your shoulders, you look around the apartment to find Jungkook to tell him bye, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
_____
It had been exactly one week since you’ve seen Jungkook. Since he was fist deep into your vagina, pleasuring you with at least 20 people in the room next to you. It has also been the last time you spoke to him. He didn’t reach out for any tutoring this week which was odd—as the two of you set a schedule for it a few weeks back. You were worried. You knew you should reach out to him and talk about what happened—but something was holding you back. You didn’t want to talk over the phone. It had to be done in person and it just had to be done. You didn’t want to lose Jungkook a second time to another drunken mistake.
Mistake? Since when was it a mistake? Was it a mistake?
You had no idea.
It’s why you’ve found yourself at Jungkook’s apartment a week later, waiting for someone to open the door. You wait patiently and no one answers the door. You’re about to give up when a voice startles you.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?”
Taehyung appears to your left and you jump.
“Shit Taehyung,” you hold a hand over your chest, “I’m sorry, I-I was just wondering if Jungkook was home?”
Taehyung adjusts his backpack. He must be getting back from class. “He’s probably at the gym.”
You nod slowly, “Alright, thank you.”
“No problem,” he says and you’re about to walk away and he stops you again, “Everything okay?”
You open your mouth and close it again, “Not sure,” you tell him honestly. He nods without another word, seeming to understand where you’re coming from.
If your assumptions were right, Jungkook would be at a gym about ten minutes from campus, one he frequented as a freshman all that time ago. You wanted everything to be okay, but now, you were sure you have done fucked it up once again.
The gym isn’t crowded and you don’t recognize any cars to be Jungkook’s so your mood begins to dampen as you walk towards the front door. The bell rings and you probably look like an idiot walking in with jeans and sandals, but your eyes ignore the stares as you try to find Jungkook. You walk through the gym towards the back, your neck craning each direction to find him. It smells of sweat and grit, something you haven’t done too much of lately. You’re about to give up until you reach the back, where a cracked door leads into another section of the gym. You open the crack slowly and the sounds of grunting and hard hits fill the room. You stop in your place as your eyes land on Jungkook, downing boxing gloves, a pair of shorts, and nothing else. You gulp.
He’s hitting a heavy bag hard and fast, his movements halting only for a split second before he strikes again. He’s dripping in sweat and you gulp again. Should you interrupt? He’s definitely not expecting you therefore you probably shouldn’t barge in but you’re already here, so what are you supposed to do?
“Come on Jungkook,” another man’s voice comes into play. You’ve never seen this guy with mint colored hair. “Throw a southpaw, let’s go!” 
Jungkook’s stance quickly changes and he’s throwing his right arm and then uppercutting his left arm with all of his weight. 
“Nice Jungkook,” the voice says again. Jungkook steps back with a smile on his face, looking behind him. 
“Hey,” a different voice yells over and you stop to see who it is. A guy slightly shorter than Jungkook appears in the crack of the door, a wide smile across his face.
“Good news, fight is set,” the guy smiles, although his smile reads less than enthusiastic. You notice some bruising along this guys arms, a large scrap on the side of his face. This has to be Jimin, the other guy that was jumped with Jungkook. 
“When is it?” Jungkook breathes heavily, his hair sticking to his forehead as he tries to push it back through his gloves.
“October thirteenth,” Jimin says, “A Friday.”
Jungkook laughs, “A fucking Friday the thirteenth? How cheesy could they get?”
You swallow harshly. October 13th was a less than three weeks away. You’re sure they are talking about the fight with the guy named Eric that Jungkook mentioned.
“I know right,” the nameless guy says, “But I’m sure you’ll kick his ass once again, waste of your time.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice Jimin,” Jungkook sounds annoyed and you’re starting to wonder if you should have came here at all. 
“Come on, let’s do some more sets,” the other guy says says, patting Jungkook on the shoulder.
You take in a deep breath, hoping that this doesn’t backfire. You take your chance and open the door to the room as if you just showed up. Jungkook, Jimin, and the third guy turns to you.
“Y/N?” Jungkook asks, looking confused, “What are you doing here?”
You glance around the room awkwardly, “Uh, I-uh, went to your apartment to see you if you were a-and Taehyung said you were here, so,” you sound like a babbling idiot.
Jungkook’s eyes soften and it’s hard to not stare below his neck, but somehow you manage.
“Jimin, Yoongi this is Y/N,” Jungkook formally introduces you, “She’s a friend.” A friend. That hurt more than it should have.
“Hi,” Jimin gives you a sweet smile and he seems like a person Jungkook would automatically gravitate towards. Yoongi stays quiet. He’s definitely not someone you would strike as Jungkook’s friend. 
“Sorry if I’m interrupting—I didn’t know…” you trail off, feeling more than awkward in this situation.
“No worries,” Jimin shakes his head, “We were almost done anyways.”
Jungkook’s eyes haven’t met yours since you’ve walked in. He’s staring at Jimin and knowing Jungkook, he’s going to try and leave as soon as he can.
“Wanna meet again tomorrow?” Jimin asks towards Jungkook as he packs up his bag on the floor.
“Yeah, sure,” Jungkook mutters, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. “I’m gonna stay here for a little longer though.”
“Alright,” Jimin says, “It was nice to meet you Y/N.”
You smile to him, “You too.”
Jimin and Yoongi leave the room and the silence is suffocating. You cross your arms around your chest feeling vulnerable and insecure. You look at Jungkook and he’s staring at you now. He looks away from you before turning back to the bag, lining up to strike it again.
“Jungkook,” your voice interrupts his chance to punch. He pauses with one more glance to your frame. You begin to walk closer to him wanting to get this over and done with. “What’s wrong with you?” You ask.
Jungkook looks down, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters and you nearly jump out of your body when he begins to strike the bag in quick, calculated motions. The bag moves backwards with each punch and his face tenses up, his mind clearly on one thing and one thing only. You exhale deeply, trying to stay calm. If that’s the way he’s going to play—you won’t keep your cool for long.
“Jungkook, stop,” you raise your voice over his movements and he suddenly quits, looking up at you again. “Don’t do this right now,” you say stepping closer to him again.
“What do you want Y/N, I’m busy alright,” he scoffs, stepping away from the bag, turning fully to you. You wish he didn’t look good drenched in sweat but it was hard to stay focused when he was looking like that.
“You know exactly what I want. You haven’t spoken to me in a fucking week Jungkook,” your words are fiery despite your cool demeanor.
“Is that really that big of an issue? We barely spoke for two years until recently,” he sounds annoyed, but also timid—you can sense something is bothering him.
You frown, “Yeah until recently because I thought we moved past that.”
He doesn’t say anything. And that’s what boils your blood. Tears are threatening to spill from your eyes—not from sadness, but frustration.  
“So is that it? I let you finger fuck me and now I don’t mean anything to you anymore?” Your words are seething and once you say this, Jungkook’s face softens that slightest bit.
“What? No Y/N—“
“Then what the fuck is wrong with you? What have I done?!” It takes all of you not to breakdown right there. You just got Jungkook back. You couldn’t lose him a second time.
“Y/N listen,” Jungkook takes off his boxing gloves, throwing them in the floor, “You haven’t done anything alright. It’s just—complicated,” he shakes his head, stepping closer to you. He tries to grab one of your hands but you pull away from him.
“No, no you don’t get to do that,” you say, “What happened to communicating Jungkook? Wasn’t that our issue all that time ago?”
He looks down and back up. You really wish he would put a shirt on. “I know, I know…” he wanders off, “If I could tell you I would, but I’m just under a lot of stress right now and—“
“Then tell me what’s wrong,” you don’t want to interrupt him, but you feel like you two are going in an endless circle. Jungkook steps towards you once again and this time you don’t back away from him.
“Look, I’m sorry alright. I shouldn’t have cut you off this past week—I just thought it would clear my head,” he says. With hesitation, he grabs your wrists gently, “That was stupid I get that okay? I’m sorry, especially after… what happened,” he says and you can tell he means it. Jungkook is a genuine person, you can’t argue that.
Your face warms up and you feel almost embarrassed. Were you overreacting?
“I just don’t understand,” you mutter, “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions but Jungkook, you’re worrying me. I don’t know what’s going on with us and this whole boxing thing is keeping me awake at night.”
He intertwines your fingers together and it’s comforting. Comfort you’ve been missing ever since a week ago. “Y/N, please just trust me okay? If I can get through these next few weeks I’m set and I promise you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
“How can you promise that?” You look up fully at him and you’re a lot closer than moments ago.
“I don’t to make promises I can’t keep.”
You sure hoped he was right.
_____
Two weeks have gone by since your talk with Jungkook in the gym. He had resumed talking to you normally, although there was still something off about him. Then again, there was something off with you too. The intimate situation the two of you found yourself in a few weeks back, still hadn’t been fully discussed and it bothered you like no other. It bothered you because you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want it to happen again—or even further. Fuck, you shouldn’t be thinking about Jungkook like this. But don’t you have a right to? Jesus you were so confused. It’s why you have found yourself at Beta Tau Sigma once again on a Saturday night, Jennie already lost in tow somewhere, and you’re standing with Namjoon. Even though your mind was clouded with Jungkook, Namjoon was good company at keeping you distracted.
“What’s up with you lately?” Namjoon asks handing you another drink. You furrow your brows before taking a sip. Your face scrunches up at the taste—not the best.
“What do you mean?” You ask.
Namjoon gives you a straight smile, “Don’t play stupid,” he says. You don’t even try to make up a lie. Namjoon is too smart for that.
“I don’t know, Joon,” you sigh, “I’ve just been going through a lot lately I guess,” you mutter over the loud music.
“I get it,” he says, “Wanna talk about it?”
You’re about to answer him when you suddenly spot a familiar head of dark brown hair across the room. It’s Jungkook and he’s with a girl—you recognize her from somewhere. She’s standing in front of him and he’s smirking down at her and says something that makes her laugh. Then you know where you’ve seen her before—the bathroom girl. Fuck her, you don’t even realize you roll your eyes.
Namjoon laughs, “Whoa, what was that for?” He raises an eyebrow at you.
“W-what?” You look back to him and he follows where your eyes had been.
“Looking at Jungkook, eh?” He smirks, “Something going on between you two?”
You shake your head immediately, “No. Absolutely not.”
You didn’t know if that was a lie or not. Sure, Jungkook and you may have swapped some bodily fluids recently, but nothing else. You were also keeping a secret of his, one that if Namjoon found out about—would have him kicked out of the frat faster than he could blink. You glance back over to Jungkook one more time and find his eyes scanning the room. They land on you within 5 seconds and he shifts uncomfortably in front of bathroom girl.
“You sure?” Namjoon finds this situation funny. You don’t.
“Shut up,” you push on his chest slightly and he grabs your hand, pulling you towards him.
“Oh I can make you shut up,” he mumbles and you laugh as he closes the distance between the two of you. Namjoon’s lips are always soft and plump but that doesn’t mean he is always the most gentle. Namjoon is rough and sometimes—it’s just what you need. Jungkook’s lips on—
You pull away quickly from him. What the fuck?
“You okay?” He asks with concern.
You nod your head, “Yeah, I, just uh need some air,” you say. It was true—your head was now spinning and the alcohol wasn’t helping. You couldn’t believe you thought of Jungkook when kissing Namjoon.
“Alright, I’ll be by the bar.”
You leave Namjoon’s side and push your way through the hoards of people and loud music. You spot a door towards the back of the kitchen and use that as your opportunity. The air is cool but crisp. Just what you needed. There’s quite a few people outside surrounding a large bonfire keeping warm. You relax against the porch railings, staring aimlessly at the ground beneath you. You pour your drink out, knowing you don’t need to drink anymore of it. You nearly shit yourself when a voice comes up directly behind you.
“Y/N.”
You whip around, clutching your chest. “Jesus Christ Jungkook,” you say. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, a large flannel and sweatshirt covering his torso. He approaches you hastily and you don’t take your eyes off of his.
“I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” he says, obviously trying to make small talk.
“I didn’t either until Namjoon asked me this evening,” you say and you instantly regret bringing up his name. Jungkook stiffens.
“Still good friends with him I see,” he bites his lip nervously, looking over to the bonfire. You squint your eyes at him. He sounds off and annoyed.
“I see you’re still friends with bathroom girl,” you shoot back. You’re not even drunk, barely tipsy, but the thought of Jungkook being annoyed at you and Namjoon nearly sends you. At least you know Namjoon well—the only Jungkook knows about that girl is her fucking mouth.
“Gotta an issue with that?” He runs his tongue against his mouth and he looks at your from the side.
You turn to him and this feels all too familiar. “Yeah, actually I do.”
“Well, I have an issue kissing Namjoon in front of me—are we even?” He cocks his head to the side and you’ve never felt more annoyed yet turned on at the same time.
“Whatever,” you brush him off running a hand through your hair, turning back to your front staring at the fire. “Last time I checked I don’t take orders from you.”
“I know,” he says and you feel him push his body against your side. Your breathing instantly picks up and you bite the inside of your cheek to steady yourself. One of Jungkook’s hands finds its way to your shoulder, trailing it down to your elbow, then pushing it through the crack of your arm to settle on your waist.
“Jungkook,” you say quietly, not wanting to bring any attention to the two of you. Jungkook’s head leans down, his temple brushing against yours. His hand rubs gentle circles on your waist and you inhale his scent deeply. Fuck. “Jungkook… are you drunk?”
He shakes his head, “No, are you?” You believe him. He doesn’t smell like alcohol nor does he seem tipsy.
“No,” you say. Jungkook pulls you impossibly closer to him and your throat feels like its closing up.
“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook asks and you turn your head up, your noses brushing together. What? When has he ever been this upfront? You hesitate to answer but soon nod slowly—just once—you needed to feel it again—just once again. He closes the gap between you and you nearly melt into him. One of your hands grabs his face gently, pulling him down to you. Your own hands find their way to his fluffy hair, entangling into the locks. He presses himself into you and you feel your heart beating out of your chest. You let out a small whine when he pulls on your lip with his teeth and it shakes you back to reality.
You pull away from him—your entire body on fire. He’s got you trapped against the railing and you don’t trust the old wood to support your weight much longer.
“Jungkook,” you whisper and you feel something hard pressing into your front and your throat goes dry.
“Come home with me,” he says, “Please.” Desperation. That’s what laces his tone and you’re sure your heart left from your chest. But—you know this isn’t a good idea. Blame it on being sober, but you’re not sure you should go there with Jungkook. Not right now at least. Your head was spinning and as much as you wanted to—you couldn’t.
“Jungkook,” your eyes focus on his chest, watching your hands grip his shirt gently. “I—We can’t, we shouldn’t,” you bite your lip nervously.
“Please Y/N,” he nuzzles his forehead into yours, his grip on your getting tighter, “I need you, please—“
“Jungkook, no,” you push him off of you carefully and he looks hurt and confused. “I’m sorry, I—I want to but—“
“But what?” Once again, he looks sad and maybe a little angry now? “II’m not Namjoon? Is that it?”
You shake your head, not able to find a good answer in your head. His hands drop from your side and so does your stomach. Without another glance at your frame, Jungkook walks away, pulling at the roots of his hair.
You get home alone that night. Fuck. You think you really may have messed up this time. No, Jungkook wasn’t Namjoon but Namjoon could never be Jungkook. The history the two of you have... god you were so confused. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt gravity pull you to someone more since recently, that someone being Jungkook. As confused as your feelings were, you cry some in your bed. You don’t sleep that night, worried that whatever wedge is driving itself between you and Jungkook again—won’t be fixable this time.
_____
Jungkook, maybe much not to your surprise, cuts you off again the next week. You haven’t spoken or seen him since the party. Since he wanted you to go home with him and you nearly did, but thankfully you used your head some. You missed seeing his face dearly and missed his smile even more. When did things get so complicated with you and him? Ever since fucking graduation in high school—nothing has been the same. It’s been years and years and it’s something you’ve never gotten over. The more you think about it, the obvious reasons begin to show. Maybe Jungkook means more to you than you thought? Maybe he wasn’t just supposed to be your best friend? What if you two had been destined for something else all this time? Or maybe you weren’t meant to be friends at all?
Your thoughts are interrupted when a familiar face walks into your shift at the diner. Taehyung is by himself, his backpack thrown lazily over one of his shoulders. He looks tired, but just like you, getting through the day. His eyes meet yours and give him a small smile.
“Sit wherever,” you tell him and he decides to sit along the bar, sitting across from where you stand.
“Good evening,” he gives you a small smile, running a hand over his face.
“Hey Tae,” you breathe out, handing him a menu. He holds up his hand, not wanting it.
“Just get me a latte, extra espresso please,” he says and you nod.
“Coming right up.”
It doesn’t even take you a minute to make lattes now. The process has become so familiar it’s become second nature. Mainly due to your own obsession with lattes and your determination to perfect them yourself. You top the mug off with some foam before sliding it over to Taehyung. He doesn’t wait for it to cool before taking a big gulp.
“Rough day?” You ask, leaning forward on your elbows.
“You don’t even know,” he grumbles, “I had a quiz in my hardest class today that I didn’t know about, therefore didn’t study for,” he pauses, “I had to pick up all the slack on a group project that’s due on Saturday and then I have had to deal with Jungkook’s dumbass all week and he was at his worst this morning,” he rolls his eyes.
The mention of Jungkook makes your heart flutter yet stomach feel nauseated, “What’s wrong with Jungkook?”
Taehyung raises an eyebrow at you, “Don’t you know?”
“Um… he hasn’t talked to me in a week,” you look down at your hands, your mouth dry.
“Jesus fuck,” Taehyung groans, “No wonder he’s been in such a fucking mood. What did he do?”
You weren’t sure how to go about your answer. Um, yeah, so like Jungkook wanted me to go home with him to have sex and I did too and I didn’t and I don’t know why. Sounds great.
“It wasn’t him. It was me,” you pause, “He asked me to go home with him.”
Taehyung’s eyes widen slightly, a small smirk on his face, “Did you?”
You shake your head, “No, I couldn’t bring myself to. I wanted to but…” you trail off, slightly embarrassed to be telling Taehyung this.
“Goddammit,” he nearly laughs, “No wonder he’s pissy. Between you and tomorrow, kid’s got his work cut out.” You pick up Taehyung joking around but you still furrow your eyebrows.
“What’s tomorrow?” You ask.
“The 13th. Did he not tell you?” Fuck. His fight. Without talking to Jungkook everyday, you had forgotten about the fight.
“He mentioned it.”
“Are you going?” The question catches you off guard.
“What, oh no,” you shake your head, “No, he didn’t ask and I don’t think that’s something I wanna see anyways.”
“Trust me, he wants you there,” he says, “He’s just being a dick.”
“He’s got a funny way of showing it,” you snap. “Every time something happens between us… he shuts me off. I don’t fucking get it.”
“Y/N he does this to everyone when he’s stressed,” Taehyung pauses, “Especially since, you know,” he shrugs. The fights.
You nod, “I get it,” you slump, “It’s still frustrating.”
“You don’t have to tell me that—at least you don’t live with him,” he gives you a laugh and you send a smile in return.
“How do you feel about it?” You ask him genuinely, “The boxing I mean…”
Taehyung squints his eyes briefly, “I think it’s stupid personally,” this answer warms your heart until he continues, “But if I was as good as Jungkook I would probably do it too. The money in these things are insane.”
You raise your eyebrows, “So I’ve heard.”
Taehyung nods before he gets a text on his phone. He reads it before smiling.
“Your girlfriend?” You probe curiously.
He clears his throat, “Uh, yeah,” he responds quickly before turning his phone over. “So, what exactly is going on between you two?”
“Uh, what do you mean?” You laugh sarcastically.
Taehyung deadpans his face, “You know what I mean. I know you guys have this weird chemistry, it’s obvious. Plus he hasn’t shut up about you since you started tutoring him. Y/N this, Y/N that… it’s disgusting.”
Did Jungkook really talk about you?
“Ask him, not me because I don’t even fucking know. I could tell you what Kim Namjoon and I are before I could define mine and Jungkook’s relationship.” You let out a laugh and other eye roll.
“I’m assuming you and hyung are… what do they say? Friends with…?”
“Yeah yeah whatever you wanna call it,” you swat your hand slightly embarrassed.
“Jungkook hates it you know,” he says, switching tones. “You and Namjoon.”
You slightly snort, “And why is that?” You could tell Jungkook didn’t like seeing you with Namjoon, even before last weekend after he voiced it.
“Because he knows Namjoon is the type of guy you’ve always wanted, not him.” This takes you completely off guard.
“Why would Jungkook care about that?” You furrow.
Taehyung shrugs, staying silent this time. You weren’t stupid—you knew what Taehyung was implying by saying what he said. It makes your stomach drop. Maybe Jungkook felt more for you than he supposed to as well?
“So are you gonna come tomorrow?” He asks.
“No Taehyung,” you say, “I don’t want to see Jungkook get the shit beat out of him.”
“Jungkook won’t get the shit beat out of him, I can promise you that.”
You eyes glance over to the door as a small group of people walk into the diner. You don’t say anything else to Taehyung as you walk over to greet them. You seat them and make your way back to Taehyung, but you can’t chat much longer as you now have a table to tend to.
“Listen Y/N,” Taehyung stops you before you can walk back over with menus for the group, “If you wanna come, just text me. Like I said Jungkook wants you there, whether he’s said so or not. Also, another latte please, you’re slacking woman.”
You swat him with the menus before walking away from him. Goddamn, these next 24 hours were going to be hell.
_____
You couldn’t remember the last time you were ever this nervous for someone aside from yourself in a very long time. You remember how nervous you were in high school when you got injured and Jennie had to double with a girl on the bench of the tennis team. You remember being nervous for your parents when you left for college. And now, you don’t ever recall a moment in your life where you have been this nervous for Jeon Jungkook of all people.
It was Friday at 3:43 PM and you day was slow but painless, and you had no official plans set for the evening. Taehyung had texted you, wondering if you wanted to hitch a ride along with him to the match. You had yet to answer him. His text mocking you from your screen and you wanted to pretend that you knew nothing of the boxing match but that was impossible.
[You 3:59 PM] What time should I be ready
You send the message before you could regret it and delete it. Jennie has yet to be home from going to the store and you would need a good, yet believable excuse for your absence tonight.
[Taehyung 4:00 PM] i’ll pick you up around 8
[You 4:00 PM] Sounds good. Have you spoken to Jungkook today?
[Taehyung 4:02 PM] no he’s been quiet all day. have you?
[You 4:02 PM] Nope
You don’t receive another text from him and you slump down on your couch. It had been nearing two full weeks since Jungkook had spoken to you. You felt like all of this was your fault, sending him mixed signals and unsure of your own feelings for him. From the secretive finger fuck to the gentle kiss you shared last week, Jungkook was on your mind 24/7—aside from taking exams of course—but he was all you could think about lately. Growing up, you obviously loved Jungkook and was practically glued to his hip, but even then you don’t recall thinking about him every single fucking second.
You pull at the roots of your hair and let out a frustrated groan. Maybe you should reach out? After all, without your initiation of friendship all those years ago, you wouldn’t be here now.
You pick up your phone and find Jungkook’s contact and before you can stop yourself, you tap the call button. Your hands are clammy and you know he probably won’t answer, but it’s worth a try. The line rings for about thirty seconds before it goes dead. That dumbass doesn’t even have voicemail set up.
Pissed off even more, you slam your phone against the coffee table and let out an exasperated ‘fuck’ before going to your room to take a nap. Fuck Jeon Jungkook, is the last thought you have before you drift off into sleep.
_____
Taehyung picked you up at 8:02, though you told Jennie it was Namjoon who picked you up and the two of you were having a night in. You think she believed it but left her before she could ask anymore questions.
“I just don’t fucking get it Taehyung, one second he’s fine and another he’s like a child throwing a fit,” you filled Taehyung in on how you tried to call him but to no avail.
“You don’t have to tell me how he is Y/N, I fucking live with the guy,” he groans from his drivers seat. “I just think he’s going through a lot right now… with school, his parents, the boxing, you… he’s never handle stress that well you know that.”
You let out a sigh, leaning against the window, “It’s just so frustrating trying to help him only to get cut off like this…”
Taehyung looks at you with an eyeful glance though you don’t notice. “Y/N, in his eyes you’ve cut him off too, you do realize that right?”
You furrow your eyebrows. “What? No I haven’t?”
“Come on the little brat can’t keep his mouth shut. I know what happened with you two a couple weeks ago,” he says. You don’t say anything, cheeks getting warm. “And the weeks before that on our fucking balcony—“
“Okay what then Tae!” You interrupt him, too embarrassed by the memory.
“Jungkook is trying Y/N,” he says with a hint of a smirk, “He thinks you’re rejecting him,” Taehyung says matter-of-factly.
“Rejecting? C’mon Taehyung you know that I—“
“I know that you and Jungkook like each other, even though neither one of you have said anything, Jennie says it too.”
You narrow your eyebrows at your friend. “I don’t know what I think about Jungkook okay?” You’re being honest. You know you like Jungkook… but you’re scared of what that entails for the future. You want Jungkook in your future, you just don’t know what the right path is.
Taehyung doesn’t say anything else as he pulls his car into a fairly full parking garage. It’s dimly lit and slightly freaks you out. Taehyung had to drive to the other side of the city to get here and you don’t recognize the neighborhood around.
“Stay close to me, alright?” Taehyung opened your door for you and you nod without any argument. You follow Taehyung out of the parking garage into the chilly air and you huddle by his side. The two of you walk down a couple streets before he turns down a dark, dimly lit alleyway.
“Taehyung what the fuck,” you whisper and come to a halt. His brown eyes bleed into yours despite the darkness and he takes your hand into his.
“It’s okay,” he says reassuringly, “I promise.”
You nod reluctantly and the you continue to walk down the alley, coming to a stop at the end where you spot the familiar face of Min Yoongi. He’s standing down a small flight of stairs beneath you two and he greets Taehyung with a stiff smile.
“Taehyung, what’s up,” he says, his eyes immediately looking over at you, “Y/N?”
You tighten your grip around Taehyung’s hand, Yoongi’s stare quite intimidating.
“She should be on Jungkook’s list.”
You stay quiet knowing Taehyung doing the talking is the best strategy. Yoongi looks down at a clipboard—old fashioned but effective you guess—before nodding.
“You guys are good. Hurry and find a seat, there’s a lot of people down here tonight.”  
“You got it,”  Taehyung gives him a small smile before you drag behind him down the stairs and enter through a heavy door. You already hear plenty of commotion as you enter a huge space a few feet from the door. Your eyes look around and you could see nearly a hundred people just in your line of sight.
“Holy shit,” Taehyung says.
“What?” You get nervous by his tone.
“I’ve never seen this many people here, goddamn.”
“Why are there so many people here?” You spot a large boxing ring, dead center of the room and your mouth goes dry.
“I guess people like rematches?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow at you.
“Where’s Jungkook?” You ask, noticing how some eyes are staring at you, making you shift uncomfortably in your boots.
“Probably in the locker rooms… wanna see him?” He asks.
You bite your lip. “Does he wanna see us?” You hope Taehyung says yes. It’s killing you inside not being able to see him, hear him.
“Guess we’ll find out, c’mon,” he smirks and you follow him closely. As you look around, you do notice people you somewhat recognize. Whether it’s from walking around on campus or some of your classes, all these faces are not too unfamiliar. Taehyung takes you away from the crowd of people, through another set of doors and down another hallway. With this much walking and standing, you would have worn something other than booties. You enter the “locker room” area and you suddenly feel queasy. What if Jungkook is mad that you’re here? What if he doesn’t want to see you after all? What if—
“Y/N?” Your thoughts are broken by a honey-like voice and you focus in on the source. Jungkook sits a few feet away from you and Taehyung, back leaning against a wall. He looks confused, but also pleasantly surprised. “What are you doing here?” He gets up and does the unexpected—he embraces you in a tight hug. You return it without a second though, holding him close to you. He pulls away from you after a few moments and gives Taehyung a small hug too.
“Hey,” you say shyly.
“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks his friend and Jungkook shrugs.
“I’m alright.” Jungkook looks at you again. “I didn’t think you’d ever come to one of these,” he laughs awkwardly.
“Me either,” you say with no expression. As much as you wanted to be happy—you couldn’t. You were pissed at Jungkook for ignoring you and you were pissed that Jungkook was about to fight. You eye his frame, a white t shirt and navy sweatpants hang low on his hips. He looks calm, too calm for your liking.
“Will you give us a minute?” Jungkook suddenly turns to Taehyung and he nods glancing at you.
“I’ll get some seats.”
Taehyung leaves you and Jungkook alone and you nearly feel like crying. What the fuck is this mess?
“Y/N listen to me,” Jungkook says stepping towards you, “I’m so sorry about thess past two weeks. I-I’ve been a dick for no fucking reason and it’s not fair to you.”
You don’t say anything as you stand there with your arms crossed over your chest.
“Fuck I know I’m idiot and there’s no excuse… I’ve just been so stressed lately and you’re the best fucking part of my day—“
“Well why don’t you fucking act like it Jungkook? I’m sick of something happening between us and you acting like a I don’t exist for god knows what reason,” you raise your voice slightly.
“Y/N I,” he pauses, his hands finding their way to your shoulders, “I haven’t been honest with you and,” he pauses again and you feel your heart speed up. What’s he talking about? “I just wanna say—“
“Jungkook, you got five minutes,” the two of you turn to Park Jimin who seemed to come in at the wrong time.
“Fuck,” he says, “We’ll talk after okay?”
You nod hesitantly and before you can push yourself away from him, Jungkook places a kiss on your forehead and it makes your insides melt. Fuck, you meet his brown eyes, biting your lip nervously. 
A revelation springs into your mind; you think you might love him. He pulls you in for another hug, though this is one much shorter as Jimin is ushering you out of the locker room in the blink of an eye.
As much as you wanted to be mad at Jungkook, those thoughts had quickly subsided and replaced with butterflies and nausea. Did you really love Jungkook? You always have, but the feeling in the pit of your heart is pulling you to a different type of love. You cared about him, sometimes even more than yourself. You’ve always wanted the best for him, even if that meant sacrificing your feelings in the process. Now you were stuck between a rock in a hard place, much like you were back in high school when you had a crush on Jungkook. Fuck. And now you have to watch him fight someone like dogs,  
You shake yourself from your thoughts, as loud music flows through your ears and you look around for Taehyung. Luckily, his ashy hair color is easy to spot amongst the crowd and you push yourself to him, squeezing in between bodies and their chatter.
“My bet’s on Jeon,” a voice says.
“Fuck no, Eric isn’t gonna let the same guy beat him twice.”
You try to ignore the snide comments about Jungkook and when you get to Taehyung, he greets you with a smile.
“Hey, everything good?” He asks.
You lick you dry lips, “I don’t know,” you say honestly. Taehyung’s eyes drop and he nods. 
Suddenly, all the lights go out in the venue and a roar of screams and cheers fills the void. You stay still, pressing your body close to Taehyung. It’s not that you feel unsafe, but this environment—it wasn’t for you at all. You heart rate quickens when a man, give a few years on your age, gets into the boxing ring before you, the crowd cheering even louder for him. He bumps a microphone with his palm before bringing it to his mouth.
“Welcome, welcome!” He beams with a smile, “What an outstanding turnout we have tonight! You guys choose a good one to watch because tonight is the rematch of two of the best fighters I’ve seen in a long time…”
“Let’s give a welcome to our first fighter, weighing in at 148 pounds, 5 foot 11, Jeon Jungkook!”
Being an underground fighting ring, there isn’t a posse escorting Jungkook to the ring. He’s got Jimin by his left side, Min Yoongi on the right. Jungkook is shirtless, wearing only a pair of navy shorts, black and white boxing gloves on his hands. He enters the ring with cheers and you inhale and exhale deeply. You look up at Taehyung and he gives you a nod of reassurance to calm down. Jungkook jumps around in place a few times, shaking his arms and shoulders out. From your seat, you can’t read his eyes or facial expression—but he looks calm and unnerved.
“Coming in next, weighing in at 145 pounds, 6 feet tall, Kim Eric!”
Jungkook’s opponent walks in next, three guys surrounding him. He walks slow and steady, his bare chest tattooed beautifully, his boxing gloves a dark red. He enters the ring to cheers and this Eric guy’s gaze doesn’t leave Jungkook’s body one time. Jungkook hasn’t spared one glance at the guy and you find yourself somewhat smiling. Jungkook has always been a cocky-fuck when it’s come to sports which would usually annoy you, but here right now—he looked hot as fuck standing there as if he had no care in the world. Jungkook stands on the left corner of the ring, sitting on a small stool as Jimin and Yoongi talk to him. Jungkook nods, absorbing their information. Eric and his guys do the same.
Suddenly, both men stand and Jimin is putting a mouth guard in Jungkook’s mouth and with one last nod, he finally looks over at Eric, who has already made his way to the center of the ring with the announcer. Jungkook stalks over slowly, his eyes dark and hungry.
“Alright guys, I want a clean fight. No kicking, no cheap shots. If you get knocked down, I give you ten seconds to get up. You look me in the eyes and say you’re good before anymore fighting happens alright. We go for five rounds, unless more is needed. A knockout wins. Touch gloves.”
Jungkook sticks out his gloves for Eric but Eric only stares at him, ignoring the sign of solidarity.
“Fuck you,” Eric says to Jungkook and sends a chill down your spine. Jungkook rolls his eyes, backing away from him, but stays silent.
“Alright… ready… fight!”
Time slows as a bell rings loudly, the cheers get even louder, and you find yourself gripping Taehyung’s arm for support. Jungkook starts to move around the ring slowly, but Eric isn’t having that—immediately rushing to Jungkook to get a few jabs in. Jungkook manages to dodge them perfectly before Eric can corner him. Jungkook keeps his gloves high and never looks away from Eric. Eric comes after Jungkook again, jabbing once—twice—the third time hitting Jungkook square in the face.
“Shit,” you breathe out, eyes widening.
This time, Jungkook comes for Eric, his jabs coming quick and calculated, landing Eric in the body once. Jungkook jabs again and hits him in the face. Eric moves around quickly, Jungkook not quick to follow him. Eric comes after him again, Jungkook blocking his jabs, but missing at the end, leading to Jungkook getting hit in the face once again as well as a body shot.
Eric is coming in hot, throwing punches and jabs left and right, making Jungkook dance around to dodge them. After a few moments, Jungkook begins to fight back, landing Eric square in the face twice. You notice that Jungkook must have busted Eric’s lip as blood now protrudes from his mouth. This seems to send Eric into overdrive and attacks Jungkook quick and fast. You cover your mouth when Eric has Jungkook trapped against the rope, landing body punches after body punches.
“Alright!! Enough, break it up!!” The announcer gets Eric off of Jungkook and Eric starts to laugh in a very showman's way. Jungkook is breathing heavy and he tilts his head—a habit of his that comes out when he’s frustrated or angry. This seems to be both.
Jungkook and Eric continue to throw jabs at one another. Within a few seconds, the whole fight seems to change as Eric manages to slip past one of Jungkook’s blocks and lands him straight on the cheekbone. Jungkook’s body almost freezes before he falls back on the floor and you gasp at the sight.
“Fuck! Taehyung—“
“He’s fine, he’s fine,” he says but his eyes never met yours.
The announcer is on the floor with Jungkook counting down from ten and Jungkook finally sits up when he reaches the number four.
“You good son?” The guy asks Jungkook.
He nods, “Yeah, let’s go.”
Jungkook gets up and walks around, stretching his neck around, waiting for the ref to announce the second round.
“That’s what you get motherfucker,” Eric says walking past him to his corner. Again, Jungkook says nothing before sitting down. Jimin takes out his mouth guard and lets Jungkook drink some water.
“Why is Jungkook letting him hit him like that?!” You ask Taehyung, looking up to him, “He’s getting his ass kicked!”
Taehyung shakes his head, “Jungkook’s smart Y/N… he’s trying to run Eric’s energy out. If Eric keeps swinging the way he right now, he’ll be passed out on his own soon.”
The second round commences and this time, it’s Jungkook who comes out fast. Jungkook soon has Eric trapped against the rope, landing jab after jab. The ref intervenes and lets them get some air. Jungkook’s skin is sweaty and red hot and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look as mad as he does right now.
Eric counters quickly, catching up with Jungkook again, landing punch after punch. Jungkook escapes but Eric sticks out a foot, causing Jungkook to trip. The whole crowd—yourself included—start to yell at the action. The referee pulls Eric back and points his finger at him. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you know it’s a scolding by the way his mouth is moving quickly. You look over at Jungkook who shakes his head disapprovingly. He’s talking to Jimin as Yoongi cares to a cut on Jungkook’s eyebrow.
“He’s a fucking asshole,” you make out Jungkook saying.
The third round starts and it seems both Eric and Jungkook are equally fighting this time. Jungkook’s combinations are cleaner than Eric’s, anyone can see that, but the way Eric keeps landing in on Jungkook—makes you feel like this isn’t going to end well for him.
“Come on Jungkook!” You find yourself yelling in the chaos, your whole body shaking as Jungkook dances around the ring to get away from Eric. Eric has him trapped again, but with Jungkook’s strength, gets Eric off of him to turn the tables. There’s sweat and blood coming off both fighters and it’s got to be the most horrifying thing you’ve ever seen.
“Come on you little bitch,” Eric spits at Jungkook, “Is that all you’ve fucking got?”
Jungkook says nothing again, jabbing when he needs to.
“Fucking hell why won’t you speak to me you fucker?” Eric speaks again.
“I don’t have shit to say to you,” Jungkook finally retorts back. “You lost my respect when you sent those pussies to jump Park and I.”
Eric swings hard and Jungkook ducks, barely missing it by an inch. Eric is tired, Jungkook too, but Jungkook can see a weakness in him now.
“Come on it was all in good fun,” he says with a smirk, “You know what else would be good fun?”
Jungkook doesn’t say anything.
“Kicking your ass,” he pauses and before Jungkook can do anything else, Eric swings down hard, landing on Jungkook’s body knocking the breath out of him. Jungkook stumbles backwards, holding his stomach, he lands again on the ground with a clunk. Eric stands over him, before taking out his mouthpiece, “And stealing your bitch you invited tonight.”
“Goddammit,” you mutter watching the scene unfold in front of you. No one knows what they’re saying to each other over the noise and you honestly couldn’t care. You just want Jungkook to get up and finish this shit.
Jungkook stands up, though with a visible wince in his face. He’s breathing heavy and is filled with pure rage. The fourth bell rings and it doesn’t take long for Jungkook to attack him. Jungkook is fast and furious, landing punch after punch and you’ve never been happier for someone to get their ass kicked. Jungkook lands a punch straight across the face, causing Eric to stumble backwards. Even though you know nothing about boxing, Eric looks exhausted where Jungkook looks ready for more. With everything left in Eric, he starts coming after Jungkook. Jungkook blocks until he can’t block no more, but something in Jungkook’s stance changes. Jungkook steps forward, his right hand landing straight on Eric’s face cause his form to break. Jungkook steps quickly again, his left hand bringing an uppercut to Eric’s jaw.
The room nearly falls silent as Eric loses balance, going down straight on his back and head. When he hits the ground, the room erupts in a roar so loud it nearly deafens you.
“Holy shit!” Taehyung exclaims. The ref is down on the ground, counting down from 10, and then it’s at 5 and then 3 and then—
“Ladies and gentlemen, Jeon Jungkook wins this rematch!” The ref grabs Jungkook’s hand and holds it up over his head and you find yourself jumping up and down, pulling Taehyung down for a hug.
“Taehyung oh my fucking god!” You exclaim. He smiles brightly at you.
“I told you, he knows what he’s doing,” he says and you nod. You couldn’t deny it now—as stupid as Jungkook was for getting involved in this, his talent for the sport was extraordinary. “Come on, let’s get to his locker room,” Taehyung pulls you by your hand and you make your way back to where you were earlier.
Jungkook hasn’t arrived yet, but you find Yoongi already in there, setting out a first aid kit.
“Hey guys,” he says, “Great fight, huh?”
“Yeah, it was brilliant,” Taehyung says. The door opening catches your attention and Jungkook walks through with Jimin.  Your eyes instantly meet and you can’t even stop yourself from running to him and throwing your arms around him. He exhales deeply with a sharp wince, returning your bone crushing grip with his own.
“Alright lovebirds, he needs to get fixed up,” Yoongi’s voice interrupts you two. You hesitantly let him go and he sits down in front of Yoongi, sitting forward on his knees. He’s still breathing heavy, dripping sweat everywhere.
“Fucking hell Jungkook, since when do you box southpaw?” Taehyung pushes his shoulder slightly and Jungkook only laughs as Yoongi wipes away the blood on his eyebrow.
“I’ve been working on it for awhile,” he says, “Just never had the right time to use it… until tonight at least,” he says giving you a glance. “Eric is all talk, no bite. I can’t fucking stand him.”
“Well, I don’t think you’ll be boxing him again anytime soon,” Jimin says, “He’s embarrassed himself twice now.”
“Yeah, agreed,” Yoongi chimes in, placing one of those bandaids that pull the skin together like stitches above Jungkook’s eyebrow. “No one will want to box you now knowing you can southpaw.”
Jungkook looks at you and you furrow your eyebrows at him. He said he wasn’t going to fight after this, but the way they are talking—it sounds as if he is.
“Well, I think my boxing career is probably over after tonight,” Jungkook speaks up as if he could read your mind. He tears his eyes away from you as the others look confused.
“What?!”
“Why?”
“Jungkook c’mon!”
“Guys,” he breathes out, “I made a promise, okay? Besides, I have enough money now, I don’t need anything else.”
Your features soften as you listen to his words. His promise was to you. A smile grows on your face as you watch his body calm down from his intensified state. Once Yoongi is finished, he packs everything up. The five of you talk amongst yourselves before Taehyung turns to you.
“You ready to go home?” He asks.
“I can take you home,” Jungkook says before you can answer.
“Okay,” you give him a small smile that he returns.
“Okay then, I’m gonna head out, I won’t be home tonight Jungkook,” he says.
“I know I know, at your girlfriends,” Jungkook swats his hand and Taehyung flips him off before leaving.
Jungkook stands up throwing on a shirt and slipping into Birkenstocks. “Come on,” he says to you, holding out his head. You gladly take it and it feels more like home than home ever has.
_____
“Fuck Jungkook, how much money is this?” You ask him as he hands you a white envelope as he unbuckles himself in the driver seat. The envelope is thick and you peak out of curiosity, your jaw dropping.
“I told you,” he says snatching it back from you, “As much food as I’ve bought you lately, hopefully this will last.”
You swat at his sarcastic comment before letting out a laugh. Instead of going home, you asked Jungkook to go anywhere but there. You’re parked outside of his apartment complex, which was fine with you. The two of you needed to talk. Not much talking goes on as a silence falls between you two.
“Y/N.”
“Jungkook.”
The two of you laugh as you speak at the same time.
“You first,” you say, turning your body to face him fully.
He takes a deep breath before speaking, “I know I said it earlier but I really am sorry about this past week. There’s not an excuse that justifies me acting like a complete dick to you, especially when you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”
You stay quiet, unsure of what to say.
“And when I said you’re the best part of my day… I fucking mean it. I’m sorry for coming onto you like I have, I just,” he doesn’t finish, his eyes looking everywhere but you.
“Jungkook,” you get his attention again, reaching over the console to grab his hand, “Don’t apologize for that. Yeah, you’ve been a dick each time something happens between us but that’s the apology I care about.”
“I just don’t know how to say it,” he mutters, caressing your hand gently.
“So you’re really not going to box anymore?” you inquire. Jungkook was good, more than good... it couldn’t be easy giving up on that. 
He shakes his head, “No. I told you I didn’t want you worrying about me anymore. I keep my promises,” his smile his sweet and you swear your feel yourself melting more and more into his touch. 
“Jungkook,” you let out a deep sigh, “I didn’t realize how much I needed you in my life until we became friends again. You know almost everything about me and I don’t want anyone else to ever take your place…”
It’s hanging there by a thread—the words on your tongue—and you’re not sure you can say them and they feel constricting—but you know you have to and—
“I love you,” the words come from your mouth and you feel like you could puke. “I don’t know when or why, but I’m in love with you Jungkook. You’re all I think about anymore and I don’t want anyone else when you’re right here.”
Jungkook parts his mouth, staring at you with a look you can’t read. Fuck, you fucked this up for sure.
“Shit—I know that was so rushed and stupid. Fuck I’m an idiot—“
“Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice interrupts you and you try to hide within your own body from embarrassment. With your hand of yours in his, he pulls on it, forcing you closer to him. You look at him wide eyed before he presses his lips against yours firmly. As usual, his lips feel so good and you melt into him. This is good right? What the hell is going on? You pull away from him after a few moments, an unsure look on your face.
He nuzzles his nose against your own before speaking, “I’ve wanted to tell you that since the night of our graduation.”
“Really?” You ask as you feel your palms sweat, heart racing.
He nods, “I’ve been in love with you for god knows how long now.”
A smile creeps upon your face and you let out a sigh of relief. Jungkook watches you with interest, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.
“I can take you home whenever,” he says quietly.
You’re quick to shake your head,  “No, it’s okay… I can stay, if you want,” your voice trails off and you suddenly feel shy under his gaze.
You don’t notice how Jungkook bites his lip but he does say, “Yeah. Of course.”
_____
Jungkook’s apartment is how you remember it, though a lot quieter without Taehyung here. You’re sure the reason Jungkook’s apartment is spotless is because of him. He has always been clean and organized and Taehyung… well he was Taehyung.
“I’m gonna get in the shower, my room is in here if you wanna chill,” Jungkook says and you give him a small nod. He rids his shirt before he even closes the bathroom door and it makes you gulp. This is new territory for the both of you. The two of you just admitted your love for one another and you’re about to spend the night with Jungkook? And not in a friend way? Jesus Christ you could be tripping.
You walk into Jungkook’s room and it smells just like him. His bed is neatly made and his desk is sprawled with two computer monitors and some notebooks from school. His walls are decorated as you’d expect—a Korean flag hanging, a ‘Saturday’s Are For The Boys’ flag—typical—and a few Beta Tae Sigma plaques scattered. What catches your eye is a wall of neatly lined photos taped to the wall. You look around at all of them with a smile. Most of them are Jungkook and his frat brothers, Taehyung, a few of his older brother, there’s even a picture of you, him, Taehyung, and Jennie from high school. One that catches your eye the most is one of just you and him. It’s an old picture but the memories from that day flood your mind. It was from your first week of freshman year here at university. Both of your smiles are wide and you two are hugging each other’s frames closely. Jennie took the picture you remember. It makes you smile to yourself, butterflies entering in your stomach. Did you love Jungkook then and didn’t know it? The way you’re looking at him in the picture would say so.
You suddenly feel an urge to be close to him again. You’ve never been a ballsy person but as you look back at the bathroom door that’s closed, your desire to be touched again by Jungkook again overwhelms your senses. Closing your eyes briefly, you don’t need much more convincing before your stripping yourself of your jacket and shoes. You kick off your jeans and sweater, leaving you only in your undergarments. You tip toe to the bathroom, grabbing the handle, opening it easy.
The shower water is loud and there’s steam in the small quarters. Jungkook is humming to himself as you start to take off the rest of your clothing. With a deep breath, you grab the shower curtain, pulling it back. Jungkook’s back is facing you but he hears you instantly.
“Shit Y/N you scar—“ he stops mid sentence as he takes in your naked frame getting in the shower too.
“Hi,” you mumble meeting his eye contact.  
“H-hey,” he nearly chokes on his own air, trying to keep his eyes up from your breasts.
“Scooch,” you smirk at him to move to get underneath the water too. He does as you say watching you curiously. You’re in the process of wetting your hair when his chest is pressed firmly against your back.
“This wasn’t expected,” he says into your ear, his hands moving to grip your waist from behind.
“You’re the one that wanted me to go home with you,” you say giving him an innocent glance over your shoulder. He laughs biting his lip, pressing them against the skin behind of your ear. You lean into the physical contact, feeling almost all of your stress go away instantly.
You spin around to look at him fully as it’s a frenzy whose mouth collides with whose. He leans down to grasp your lips in their entirety, pulling you closer to him than you ever have been. He pulls you away from the water so it doesn’t get in your face as he presses you against the shower wall. His tongue dips in and out of your mouth, his hands free roaming over your breasts and down to your ass, whatever he likes within the moment. Your hands grip his dark locks as he moves his mouth from your mouth, to your neck, down to your chest. He waste no time taking your right nipple in his mouth and you exhale deeply at the feeling.
You pull his face back to yours, kissing him again not able to get enough of his lips. His hands trail down from your ass to the front of your thighs, getting closer and closer to your wet center.
“Is this okay?” He asks as his fingers rub slowly back forth between your entrance. You can barely speak as his touch is setting you on fire but you manage to nod.
“Yes, please, Jungkook,” you say. He enters one finger, then another stretching you out nicely. Fuck you forgot how good this felt with him.
“Fuck you’re so wet,” he breathes heavily and you glance down at his hardening cock. Your mouth waters at the sight. Jungkook lifts one of your legs and starts to take his fingers in and out of you slowly and agonizing. He fingers you deep and rough and you can already feel a climax coming.
“Shit,” you croak out as Jungkook rubs one of your nipples, kissing your neck. There’s a pain at the back of your head at his force pushing you against the wall but it’s easy to ignore when it feels so good below your waist. “Jungkook, I’m gonna come,” you say as the snap inside of you is about to break.
“Come on baby,” his voice is deep and groggy. As if on cue, you feel your climax wash over you and you’re not shy to be loud. You know no one is here so it doesn’t bother you one bit. Jungkook kisses you against feverishly as he pulls his fingers from you. You feel impossibly empty but you know what you want to do and you’re not near anywhere tired. Your hands travel down to his front, grasping his hard dick in your hands. God, he’s so big.
“Oh fuck,” Jungkook seethes through his teeth as you pull on the sensitive skin, all the way from his pubic hair down to the tip. He places a hand beside of your head, leaning forward against your forehead. His eyes are shut tightly and you lick your lips, wanting to take him in your mouth.
You push him away from you slightly and move down to your knees, your face front and center with his beautiful dick. You take no time to put him in your mouth which causes Jungkook to groan loudly.
“Y/N,” he says looking down at you. He’s never seen a better sight. You make sure to keep eye contact as you bob your head up and down his shaft. While one of Jungkook’s hands stays against the wall, his other grips your hair, fisting it into a makeshift ponytail. “Oh fuck—He pulls on your hair and it only makes you want to please him more. Your left hand go to his balls, the right helping you up and down his length. He pulls your hair again and you take as much of him as you can. His tip reaches the back of your throat and you gag around his length and Jungkook thinks he could actually cry. Watching you through half open lids, he decides this isn’t how he is going to come—not tonight at least.
He grabs your hair and pulls you away from him and you’re slightly confused when he brings you to your feet.
“Come on, I need to be inside of you,” he says and you nod eagerly as he turns off the shower. He leads you out of the bathroom in a frenzy, pulling up into his bedroom. You shut the door behind you and he pins you against it, kissing you hard and deep.
Both of you are dripping wet but neither of you care to dry off as he carries you to his bed. You settle on his lap as his hands rest on your waist tightly. Your hands grip his face just as tight but you’re careful not to touch his injury above his brow. You couldn’t believe he was just fighting two hours ago—that seemed like forever ago compared to now. A lot can change in a short period of time and it makes you slightly chuckle against his mouth.  
“What?” He breaks the kiss asking you with a hazy grin.
You shake your head, “Nothing,” you smile pushing his hair from his forehead. You liked seeing it. “I love you,” you repeat. And you probably won’t stop, ever.
“I love you too,” he says, “So much.”
“Let me ride you,” you whisper in his ear and his eyes light up like a child. “Are you clean?” You ask him. 
He nods quickly, “You?” You nod in response and both of you feel excited and anxious. 
You rub your hand against his length again and you hold it up as you adjust yourself to sit on him. As soon as his tip enters you, a shiver runs down your spine. As you sink yourself lower, groans come from both of your mouths, a deep moan erupting from you when you bottom out.
“Oh my god,” you breathe in and out to control yourself.
“Ride me baby,” he says and you start to move your hips against his. He fills up every inch of you and it feels so good. Your hips lift away from his and he chases them with his own thrusts. He kisses your neck as you throw your head back, your hands digging into his shoulders for leverage.  
“Fuck Jungkook,” you say seeing stars in your eyes, “You feel so good,” you whine.
“You have no idea,” he says against your sticky skin, one of his hands bruising into your waist helping you ride him in a fluid motion. “Goddammit,” he says.
As you grind against him, your clit rubs against his pubic hair, sending your toes curling. He senses that you’ve found your sweet spot against him and places his thumb there instead to rub the sensitive bud.
You feel yourself inching closer and closer to a second climax when Jungkook stalls your motion.
“Lay on your stomach,” he breathes and you do as he says climbing off of him quickly. He doesn’t even give you time to get there all the way before he’s grabbing your hips to pull your ass to him. He slides right into you and you nearly scream into his mattress. Your hands grip the sheets as he fucks you deeper from behind. He smacks your ass once, twice sending a loud whine from your mouth.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter trying to focus on Jungkook’s whines and small ministrations from his mouth. He reaches forward, rubbing your clit again and you want to die and go to heaven at the feeling. Neither of you try to be quiet anymore as you feel the second orgasm coming over you. You clench and unclench around Jungkook’s length as he stalls his thrusts to feel the action.
“Come inside of me,” you say, knowing both of you are clean and you have an IUD.
“Jesus,” he breathes, picking up his pace again chasing after his own high. As the sensitivity becomes too much, Jungkook finally lets go, coming deep inside of you. He holds your hips close against him, trying to deepen his climax as far as possible. The hot cum inside of you feels good and you moan at the feeling.
When Jungkook finishes completely in you, he pulls out with a sigh. You collapse against the bed, completely spent. Jungkook finds a clean rag in his pile of clean laundry and is quick to clean yourself and him up. You feel like you can barely move as Jungkook joins you in his bed. He turns you over to face him and he kisses you gently which you return happily.
“I love you,” he says for the third time tonight, kissing your nose.
“I love you too,” you entangling your legs together. The room is silent apart from your breathing and you’re about to go to sleep when he nudges you with his hand.  
“Come on,” he says.
“What?” You ask.
“Let’s actually take a shower now since someone wouldn’t let me,” he eyes you with accusation.
You squint at him before flipping him off. “Fuck off.”
_____
The next morning you wake up with Jungkook hugging you from behind, his face nuzzeled in your hair. You have no clue what the time may be, but you since it’s early by the way the birds chirp out the window. You stretch out your arms as best as you could and try to move your legs, but it doesn’t work since Jungkook’s heavy legs are tangled with your own. You’re tempted to fall back asleep but when Jungkook moves behind you, you turn to see his ruckus. You’re met with his brown eyes and you jump slightly, not expecting to see him awake. Both of you let out the faintest of laughs, not saying anything.
Jungkook leans over and kisses your lips, “Good morning.” His voice is groggy and he shuts his eyes again as you fully turn your body to his.
“Good morning,” you respond, watching the way his chest rises and falls gently. “How’d you sleep?”
“Hmm, really good,” he mumbles. You are about to join him in closing your eyes again until a loud rumble comes from your belly. Jungkook laughs.
“Hungry much?”
“Starving,” you groan, “I didn’t eat dinner last night.”
“Why not?”
“I was too nervous before your match… I thought I would yak if I ate,” you answer. Stupid, you know, but it was your train of thought last night.
He opens his eyes again, “Let’s go to the diner for breakfast… employee discount.”
You glare at him, “Is that all I am to you? A fucking employee discount,” you say saracastically.
“And my girlfriend if that helps?” He raises an eyebrow. Your cheeks heat up and you smile.
“Welllll, since my boyfriend is rich now and gets a discount, I’m assuming he’s paying.”
He smirks, “Obviously.”
“Will you take me to my place so I can change? And then we’ll go?”
He nods, his hand caressing the side of your body, “As much as I wanna stay in bed, I could really go for pancakes right now.”
“Waffles are superior,” you remark.
He frowns with a disgusted face, “Get the fuck out of my bed you heathen.”
_____
Jungkook insisted on coming up to your apartment with you because he didn’t want to wait in the car, but you know he just wants to see you change in front of him. Boys are all the fucking same.
As you fumbled with the key, the door opens and whatever Jungkook is saying to you is suddenly drowned out when you see—
“Jennie?”
“Taehyung?”
The names leave yours and Jungkook’s mouth as you watch the scene in front of you. Jennie is sitting on the counter, Taehyung in between her legs with a coffee cup in hand. Could be worse but what the fuck is going on?!
“Shit,” Jennie says pushing away Taehyung. “Hey guys,” she smiles awkwardly. You and Jungkook look at each other confused before Jungkook speaks.
“Uh, Taehyung?” He asks and Taehyung is. as red as a tomato.
“Oh fuck,” Jennie mutters shaking her head. She looks at Taehyung for backup.
Taehyung pinches his nose before speaking, “Um… we’re dating.”
You and Jungkook have the same reaction as your mouth drops.
“Jennie is your secret girlfriend?” Jungkook asks.
“Surprise,” Jennie smiles again looking at you.
You look at Jungkook and shake your head at the four of you. What a fucking cliché.
The four of you go to breakfast together that morning and it’s like old times, just with a sprinkle of something new. As long as the four of you have known each other, you’ve always had each other’s backs. Even now, with you and Jungkook and Jennie and Taehyung—you know that would never change from here on out. Turns out, Jennie just thought her and Taehyung were friends with benefits, while Taehyung was telling everyone he had a girlfriend because he was that smitten with her. The four of you laugh at the situation at hand and you couldn’t believe everyone was back together... like this. As Jungkook’s pancakes and your waffles arrive, Jungkook’s beaming smile lighting the whole room you think to yourself—this is how it’s supposed to be. 
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inkandpen22 · 3 years
Text
Dazed and Confused (S1: 2/?)
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader
Warnings: mild langage 
Word Count: 2k
Part Summary: After Steve spends the night at Y/N Jonathan Byers accuses Y/N of getting too close to her best friend’s boyfriend
Masterlist
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I wake up to a banging on my door. It sounds like an uncontrollable jackhammer. 
“Y/N! Oh Princess Y/N!” My mom screeches on the other side. “Wake up! You have to pick up Dustin in thirty minutes!” 
The last bit grabs my attention. My eyes fly open and I attempt to sit up but I’m pinned down. My head whips to the side and Steve is sound asleep next to me. His arm is draped across my stomach keeping me pinned. In a rush, I shove him off of me and fly out of bed. Steve wakes up abruptly and falls off the mattress onto the floor with a thud. 
“Shit!” He blurts out. 
“What was that?” My mom asks worriedly. 
Wide-eyed, I stare down Steve who peers up at me from the floor. 
“I’m just getting ready! I’ll be out in five!” I shout to my little brother. 
Thankfully, I hear him patter off as he grumbles various curse words under his breath. 
I must look like a crazy lady as I run around my room getting ready. My hair is going in a ponytail today because there’s no way I have time to style it. Steve moves about me, collecting his things. It’s Friday so that makes picking out an outfit rather easy. It’s game day, so cheer uniform. I start changing from my pajamas into my cheer uniform. I hop on one leg as I remove my shorts and rush to grab my skirt off my dresser. As I slip off my t-shirt and change into my vest, I check my appearance in the mirror on my dresser. 
Behind me, Steve eyes me curiously. He appears in some sort of wide-eyed daze. 
I whip my head around to check on him. “You okay?” 
He hums absentmindedly. Then, he shakes his head repeatedly to snap how of it. “Yeah! Uh… it’s just… um… you…” he stammers, “uh…. Nevermind! I’ll see you in a little bit,” he says as he goes to climb out of my window. 
“Okay? Catch ya later.” I laugh, wondering why he’s acting so odd. 
He’s such a goofball. I wonder if it’s because I freaked him out when I woke him up. Oh well, he scared me last night so karma. 
________________________________________
Once we arrive at school, Dustin runs off to join the boys who have all agreed to dress as the Ghostbusters for school. Since the Demogorgon incident, Dustin and I have grown closer. We live on the same block and being only children help. 
Nancy isn’t at her locker when I arrive at my own, odd. What’s even weirder is Jonathan is waiting for me. 
“Hey,” I greet him with a raised brow. 
It’s not that I dislike Jonathan, we’re simply not close friends. Sure, we had a bonding experience last year but he and I are very different people. 
“Hey,” he stuffs his hands into his back pockets nervously. “Have you… uh… have you seen Nancy?” 
Interesting, Byers looking for Nancy. If this were any other day she would be here beside me and I wouldn’t be standing here with Jonathan but apparently, today isn’t going to be average. 
“Nope, I haven’t. I was wondering where she is myself. Usually, she’d be here by now,” I fill him in on the lastest as I put the combination into my locker. 
“Well if you see here will you tell her I have something for her?” He requests. 
“Is it your love confession?” I tease. 
“Huh?” He acts oblivious to what I mean. 
“Oh please, it’s clear as day you have a thing for Nance," I snicker as I pull out my books. "I’ve known since Steve and I showed up at your house last year.” I glance over my shoulder at him and it’s evident I’ve spooked him. My bluntness tends to have that effect on people. "Look,” I say gently and quietly between us. “I won’t say anything. I understand that she’s with Steve. So, you feel like there’s no point but it’s important to say how you feel and be honest.” 
"Just like how you’re honest with Steve about having a thing for him?” He boldly fires back. 
I scoff, he’s delusional! Me and Steve, really? There’s no way! I laugh, “I don’t have a-” 
“Really? Yesterday in the gym?” He challenges.
His question, more like a threat, takes me by surprise. What, so Jonathan is watching me now? He’s eavesdropping on my conversations? 
 “How about over the summer?” He presses further, stepping closer until he towers over me. “You two were together more than he and Nancy ever were! How about this morning when I was on my way to school and saw him climbing out of your window? Hm? How about that?” 
Okay, now I’m just getting pissed. “I can assure you, Steve loves Nancy!” I growl. “There’s is nothing, and I mean nothing, between us! Now I suggest you stop acting like a tough guy before I remind you who really holds all the power here,” I threaten him. 
He forgets that I’m the captain of the cheer squad. I’m adored around here. He’s some punk who hangs out all day in the photography classroom. If he really wishes to test me, I can promise I will win. I always win. 
“Fine then…” he mutters, mere inches from my face. “But remember, I could easily tell Nancy about last summer.” 
He steps back with narrowed eyes locked on me until he turns around to slip away. I watch, stunned, as he disappears into the cluster of students traveling about the hall. A bit disturbed, to say the least, I lean back against the lockers to catch my breath. 
I don’t like Steve, that’s crazy! Steve… Steve and I… we’re just friends, really good friends, best of friends! Jonathan is psychotic and tossing out random ideas to get a rise out of me. All we did was hang out over the summer! He was already dating Nancy, my oldest friend! I would never ever betray her like that! Screw Byers. 
________________________
After last period, I return to my locker to pack up my homework. As I’m packing up my stuff, Nancy pops up next to me all distraught. She’s shaky and appears frightened, the same way she did when fighting the Demogorgon. 
“Nance? Nancy, what’s wrong? What happened?”  I ask her repeatedly, already worried.
She scans the area, making sure no one is watching us. Swiftly, she pulls into the girls bathroom. 
I stumble inside, immediately checking the stalls to make sure we’re alone. Once I determine the coast is clear, I spin around to face her. 
Her arms are wrapped around her tightly like a blanket. She swallows hard, her glazed eyes meet mine in fear. “I saw Barb!” She whispers as though she’ll be struck for doing so. 
That’s impossible. We left Barb in the Upside Down. She’s gone. She’s dead. 
“You what?” I shake my head in disbelief, pacing away from her. 
“In the library!” She explains, "I saw her! She called out for us! She said this wasn’t me! She said you were hiding! Pretending!” 
Now frightened, I whip my head around to face her directly. I note the hint of hope in her eyes that’s overpowered by guilt. I mourned Barb. We all did. I’m sorry for her parents, I am truly, but everyone is right! There’s nothing we can do! What’s done is done! All we can do is move on and live our lives! 
I refuse to relive the endless guilt, depression, and anxiety that consumed me for months on end. I felt like a shell of a human for almost a year after what happened. I can’t do this. 
“I have to go to drive Dustin home,” I announce. 
Quickly, I cross the room toward the door. I have to get out of here. This is nonsense. 
Nancy grabs my wrist before I pass her, “But Y/N-”
I yank my arm free from her grip, “goodbye Nancy!” 
Shaken for the second time today, I storm out of the bathroom and hurry toward the exit. I grip the handle of my purse, unable to control my shaky hands. Tears coat my eyes and threaten to slip down my cheeks. 
Flashbacks of that horrid night take over my train of thought. I see it clear as day. All of the blood, the sting from my arm, the pressure of that monster pinning me down. Everything I’ve been suppressing demands to be felt again. I’m living in my own personal Hell. 
As I push through the doors to the parking lot, the bright sunlight blinds me for a second. People cluster outside the school in their cliques. I weave between them, eager to get to my car and fly home. I can’t allow anyone to see me like this. I’m the strong one. I have my life together. I can’t break. 
In the distance, Dustin leans against the passenger door waiting for me. I keep telling myself that I’m almost there, just a couple of steps more. 
“Y/N-” Someone grabs my shoulder to stop me. 
Caught off guard and already distraught, I gasp and my bag slips from my shoulder to the pavement. 
I peer up to see Steve eyeing me with such compassion that I nearly slip and start sobbing. I wish I could tell him everything zooming through my mind but I can’t, it’s not his burden to bear. 
Urgently, he gathers my bag off the ground and places it on my shoulder. His hand lingers on my forearm, rubbing up and down comfortingly. I attempt to hide my shakiness by crossing my arms tightly. 
“You’re upset,” he states the obvious but I know he means well. “Are you alright?” 
I hum, nodding my head repeatedly. If I attempt to speak my voice may crack and then he’ll never let me go. Please Steve, I understand that you’re checking on me and I know you truly care but please let me go. 
“What is it?” He scrunches his eyebrows as he shifts on his heels. “Is it about Nancy? She was speaking about Barb earlier. Did she confront you about it? If it is I-” 
“Y/N!” Dustin shouts over to us impatiently. 
For once, I won’t argue with him about interrupting me. “I have to go,” I mumble under my breath and rush off before Steve has the chance to object. 
Once I’m a few feet away from Dustin, he notices my state and instantly climbs into the car without any questions. 
After I toss my bag into the backseat and move up front, I take a moment to gather myself and blast some music before I start driving. 
“Shitty day?” Dustin finally breaks the silence. 
Rubbing my temples, I snicker, “to put it simply.” 
He sighs, “Yeah, me too. First, all of the little assholes at school decide not to dress up this year. My guess is they all formed a pact and kept us out of it. It was all pretty embarrassing. Then, there’s this new girl, Max, smoking’ hot, but thinks she’s cooler than everyone else. Lucas likes her too… We followed her around for a little bit but then… well shit… she was onto us. Do you wanna talk about your day?” He offers to listen. 
I shake my head and open my eyes. Exhaling deeply, I grip the wheel and prepare to go. “No, because if I do then it will lead down a dark road that I don’t wish to travel ever again.” 
Dustin respects my silence and he talks most of the way home. I appreciate him not forcing me to speak about the horrors of today. Right now, I much rather listen and be distracted. Today was one of the worst days I’ve had in a while. At least tonight is the party. I could really use some mindless fun, risky shenanigans, and most importantly, booze. 
________________________________
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pftones3482 · 3 years
Text
One of the commissions I'm doing for @randomfandomfan ft Hurt/Comfort Adrinino. Find it on my AO3 here.
Set post Rocketear and pre any kind of romantic relationship (tho it's hinted at). This was already a fic I wanted to write, and one of the prompts they sent me fit the concept almost perfectly, so I ran with it.
Under a cut for length.
~~
“It’s your fault.”
Nino jumped about a foot in the air, whirling from where he’d been shutting his door with his phone pointed menacingly at the source of the voice. His backpack smacked him in the hip, knocking him off kilter, and he stumbled, bracing himself on the doorknob. His eyes scanned the room slowly, shoulders easing when he didn’t spot anyone. “Hello?”
“What are you, dense, kid?” scoffed the voice again, from right in front of him, and Nino squeaked at an embarrassing pitch when he registered the Kwami floating there.
The Kwami.
The Kwami.
A black cat Kwami.
Nino dropped his defensive (if somewhat undignified) stance, staring at what was definitely Chat Noir’s Kwami. “Um. You’re not supposed to be here.”
The cat’s eerily green eyes rolled. “Wow. Intelligent.”
Nino spluttered, feeling awkward. “W-Well I’m sorry, dude, how do you expect me to react!” he demanded, throwing his hands up in the air. Something like ice settled in his gut as the Kwami’s existence finally clicked. “W-Wait, why are you here? What happened?”
“You happened,” the Kwami snapped, and uh. Okay. Not what Nino wanted to hear right now.
“What?”
“YOU. Do you have any idea how much you upset him? How much you hurt him the other day? He won’t say it, Nino, but he’s hurting. He’s been hurting, and you unloaded on him and beat him and told him how awful he was and if you weren’t his best friend and I didn’t think you were the only one who could help right now, you’d be in a pile of rubble.”
Um.
Holy shit.
Nino had never heard a Kwami so pissed. Wayzz could get a little condescending sometimes, and Ladybug had admitted that her Kwami could be a little snarky (as could Trixx, as Alya had confirmed time and time again). But never had he seen a Kwami literally shaking in rage.
He’d be more terrified if the cat’s words weren’t sinking in.
“Hang on, hang on, dude,” Nino said, crossing his arms in an “x” through the air. “Is this about Rocketear? I apologized, I-I thought me and Chat were okay. Also like, I respect the guy, but he has no idea who I am, dude, we’re not best friends.”
“Had,” the cat spit out. “He had no idea who you were.”
Nino’s stomach swooped out from under him and he gripped his desk chair tightly to keep from tripping. “What?”
The Kwami gave him a smug, if not irritated, smile. “You told him yourself.”
“D-During…when I was fighting him?” Nino squeaked. “N-No, I saw the footage, I didn’t tell him I’m Carapace!”
The cat softened. “Before, Nino. Before you were akumatized.”
“I didn’t-”
“Of course, when Ladybug appears, he throws himself to her feet with roses and love confessions!”
Fuck.
“But he is always rejected, because Ladybug thinks that he’s annoying. And she is COMPLETELY right!”
Oh, fuck.
“I know because I’m also a superhero. I’m Carapace.”
“Shit.”
Nino fumbled for his desk chair, sinking into it hard and banging his elbow on the back. The pain was almost numbing. He put his head in his hand, pushing his hat back off his head and staring blankly at the wall.
“Oh my god, dude, I-?”
“Yeah.”
The Kwami sounded almost sad this time, and that, somehow, was worse than him threatening to kill Nino.
He didn’t really remember being akumatized, until the end, when Alya broke him from Shadowmoth’s hold. And despite warnings from his friends, he’d watched the footage from his akumatization. Even without Alya recording, someone usually was, and the footage was always online by the end of the day.
He knew what he’d done to Chat Noir.
He’d seen the way he dropped his baton, a sign of surrender. The way Rocketear hadn’t hesitated to push him back with everything he had, pounding him again and again and again into that van, how he’d grabbed him by the head and slammed him backwards like-
“Nino!”
The Kwami’s paw was gentle on his wrist and Nino shuddered, scrubbing at his eyes furiously and dislodging his glasses. “Oh my god, oh my god, where is he?” he choked out. “I-I need to find him right now, Kwami dude, I-I can’t believe I-”
“Plagg,” the Kwami offered, his scratchy voice easing Nino from his panic. “And it wasn’t you, kid.”
“B-But it was, that’s the worst part,” Nino whispered, standing and pacing now. “I hated him, I hated him so much I – oh my god, he tried to tell me.” He laughed, bitter, holding his hands together behind his head. “He tried to tell me Alya and Chat didn’t have a thing and I-”
“Nino,” Plagg interrupted. “He’s on the roof.”
Nino stopped, blinked at him. “He’s what.”
Plagg nodded upwards, his antenna bobbing. “On the roof. Been there every night for the last week.” His voice lowered. “He wanted to talk to you, but he’s too scared.”
“He’s on the…he’s on my roof?”
Nino scrambled around his room, grabbing a jacket and an extra hoodie before reaching out, snatching Plagg, and shoving him into his hat. He froze a millisecond later. “Um. Please don’t cataclysm me for that, dude.”
Plagg’s chuckle was more like a purr. “Please. As if I’d need to use all that on just you.”
Nino supposed he should be insulted, but with everything he now knew, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. It was nearly one am – he’d been out late studying with Alya – so now he crept from his room and to the front door, hopeful not to wake his family. Grabbed his key off the hook by the entrance, and then eased the apartment door shut behind him.
It was only one flight up to the roof access, usually locked, but Nino had come up here with Alya more times than he could count, so he knew that if you wiggled the lock just right, it would come undone on it’s own. They’d oiled the hinges ages ago so that it didn’t scream every time it was opened, and now it was silent as Nino pushed it up and stared over the flat top.
Adrien was silhouetted in the moonlight, precariously close to the edge, and it made Nino’s breath hitch. He pushed the door all the way open and clambered up onto the roof as quietly as possible, easing the hatch shut again before turning back to his best friend and slumping.
Best friend.
God, how could he have-?
“You didn’t know,” Plagg whispered, gentler than Nino had expected him to be. The Kwami zipped from his hat, hovering in the air next to him, and he offered Nino a grim smile. “I might hate you a little right now for what you did to him, but you didn’t know, kid.”
Nino let out a shaky breath and started the trek over to his friend, fiddling with his extra sweatshirt. The night air was chill, and he was glad he’d brought it – Adrien was in nothing but short sleeves.
“All week, huh?” he murmured, watching as Adrien jumped a little, fingers tightening on the edge of the roof. “Could’ve just called, dude.”
Adrien twisted, lips parting. “How did you know I was-?”
His eyes landed on Plagg and a squeak slipped from his mouth as his hand shot to his shirt pocket. It wouldn’t have been funny if he hadn’t gone so pale.
So Plagg hadn’t told him he was telling Nino. Interesting.
“Y-You can’t-! You told-?”
“You’ve been here all week, Adrien,” Plagg snapped. “You weren’t gonna tell him, I was. You need a cheese in your corner.”
Nino had no idea what that meant, but he couldn’t stop staring long enough to care.
Adrien’s eyes were tired. There was no glint in them. The circles under his eyes were deep – he must’ve been wearing makeup to school, because Nino hadn’t seen them until now. His hands were trembling, his lips were bitten raw, and Nino felt his entire heart shatter.
“I am…so sorry,” he choked out, tears spilling over. Adrien jolted, turning his gaze from Plagg to him.
“Nino-”
“No, dude, no, I-I-I…I don’t care that I didn’t know. I should never have said those things, I should never have hurt you like that, oh my god dude, I hurt you so bad, I like could have killed you, a-a-and…”
He froze, reeling, and stumbled back. Adrien got to his feet warily, holding his hands up. “Nino?”
“You were gonna let me.”
He wanted it disproved, but Adrien’s flinch told him everything. His chest seized and Nino choked on his breath. “You were gonna let me, you would’ve fucking let me, you fucking asshole how could you? Do you have any fucking idea how much I care about you dude?”
He shoved Adrien without thinking, hands firm against his shoulders, pushing him back and away from the edge. Adrien’s eyes were wide, lip trembling, and Nino pushed him again, closer to the center of the roof, this time forcing the sweatshirt into his grasp. Adrien clung to it, lips parted, and Nino dragged his hands through his hair, pacing as Adrien shrugged the sweatshirt on. He’d left his hat downstairs, he registered somewhere in the back of his mind.
“Oh my god,” he choked out. “I-I…I’m so sorry dude. I’m so sorry, your dad, and then school, and modelling and your stupid model diet and then you’re a literal superhero and I’m supposed to be your best friend and I didn’t even…”
“You weren’t saying them about me,” Adrien whispered. “I know that.”
Nino spun to face him, vision blurry. “If you knew that you wouldn’t have been on my roof every night for the last week working up the nerve to talk to me. If you knew that you wouldn’t have thrown down your weapon and let me beat you to-”
He cut himself off with choked cry and he rushed at Adrien, clinging to him with a force he didn’t know he possessed. He cradled his friend’s head gently, heart sinking for a moment until he felt Adrien’s hands lift to settle tentatively on his back.
“I don’t hate you,” he whispered into Adrien’s ear. Nino swallowed, throat aching. “I don’t hate you, and I don’t hate Chat Noir. I was mad. A-And that’s not an excuse for what I said, and I’m so sorry. I’ve never hated Chat Noir, dude. He was always my favorite. I just…”
“You were upset,” Adrien finished, soft.
“Jumped to conclusions,” Nino corrected. “I was jealous of Alya keeping stuff from me, and I jumped to conclusions, and I hurt you, shit I-I hurt you, I-”
“I’m okay, Nino. It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” Nino croaked, tightening his grip. Something in him breathed easier when Adrien tightened his own back, harder, his shoulders starting to shake. “It’s not okay, I love you, dude. Don’t do that for me. Don’t ever stop fighting back when it’s your life at stake, I-I can’t…”
Adrien’s grip clenched in his hoodie and suddenly Nino’s neck was wet with tears. Nino carded his fingers through Adrien’s hair, turning his head just slightly to press his lips against his temple. “Talk to me, dude,” he whispered. “I’m here now, you don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore.”
“You can’t tell, Nino,” Adrien croaked. “I mean it, not even Alya. Y-You can’t. Promise me.”
“Hey.”
He pushed Adrien back, gentle, and cupped his cheeks, swiping away the tears on his skin. “I promise,” he said firmly, staring Adrien in the eyes to show he meant it. “This is too big to tell, dude.”
“You told me-”
“I trusted you,” Nino said, squeezing Adrien’s shoulders. “I was pissed, and I knew I trusted you more than anyone, and I knew you wouldn’t say anything. A-And I was wrong, dude. I shouldn’t have told Alya’s identity. Mine is one thing, but that wasn’t okay. But man, dude, you have it rough as it is, without anyone knowing you’re a superhero. I’m not telling, dude.”
Adrien swallowed, throat bobbing, and glanced behind Nino, where he presumed Plagg was floating. Plagg must have indicated something, because he slumped and gave a weak smile. “Thank you, Nino.”
Nino shook his head. “Don’t thank me. D-Don’t…not after that.”
Adrien’s hands were on his cheeks now, fingers freezing. “Hey. It wasn’t you. You might’ve been mad, but it wasn’t you. It was Shadowmoth amplifying those emotions, and you beat him. You beat him, Nino. I’m…so proud of you for that,” he whispered, voice cracking.
Nino pulled him in again, arms clinging to his back and his nose pressed into the hood of Adrien’s borrowed sweatshirt. “I’m proud of you too, dude,” he said. He felt Adrien’s grip tighten on his back. “No one ever says it. I’m proud of you. And I’m-”
“If you say sorry one more time,” Adrien croaked, laughter behind his tears, “I will personally dangle you off the Eiffel Tower by your shield.”
Nino chuckled and stepped back, tugging Adrien’s wrists gently. “Come inside,” he pleaded. “It’s cold out.”
Adrien glanced behind his shoulder, teeth worrying at his lip. “I should get home,” he said. “It’s late.”
“Then they won’t notice,” Nino said, pulling him a step further. “C’mon, dude. You’ve been by yourself for so long. I wanna hear about being Chat Noir.”
Adrien looked back to him, lips parted. The glint in his eyes was illuminated by the surrounding buildings, and something in Nino’s stomach twisted in a way he wasn’t going to question at the moment. “Really?”
“You kidding? Of course, dude.”
Adrien’s mouth slid into a tiny smile now, head tilting in that puppy-dog way only he could pull off. “Yeah. Y-Yeah, I’d like that. If you’re sure it’s-”
Nino knelt down and lifted the roof access cover, climbing onto the ladder and looking back up at Adrien with what he hoped was an inviting grin. “Dude. Just get inside already.”
Sneaking back in was harder than sneaking out, only because now he had another person in tow, but they managed to get back into his room without waking anyone (even after their quick excursion to the kitchen for a block of sharp cheddar, because Plagg was whiny). Nino shut off all the lights in his room except his desk lamp, leaving the soft glow to illuminate the corner and moving to his bed.
Adrien hesitated at the foot of it, fiddling with the sweatshirt strings on Nino’s hoodie (and Nino was ignoring how much he liked that image, that was something he could confront in the morning). “Um.”
Nino rolled his eyes and held out an arm. “Come cuddle, bro. And tell me about being the hottest bachelor in Paris.”
That got a snort from his friend, and Adrien crawled into the bed next to him, flopping against Nino’s side and leaning his head against his shoulder as Nino tucked an arm around him. “I thought I was the hottest bachelor in Paris.”
“Oh my god, you and your alter ego literally are competing for the same spot, that’s so fucking funny,” Nino cackled, keeping his voice low so he didn’t wake Chris next door.
Adrien chuckled and then fell quiet, and Nino traced a circle on his arm, feeling the mood shift. “Wanna talk about what’s been going on with you and Ladybug?”
“How did you-?”
“It’s pretty obvious when you’re working directly next to the two of you. And especially now that I know it’s my best bro behind the mask? What’s up?”
Adrien went still again, and then rolled over, pressing his face into Nino’s shoulder. “Can we talk about that tomorrow?” he mumbled. “I’d rather just…hang out, for now.”
Nino tightened his grip, focused on the ceiling, and tried to quell the racing thoughts in his mind. “Of course, dude. Of course.”
Adrien’s breathing evened out, and Nino had a feeling he probably wasn’t heading home anytime soon. He didn’t care, just shifted to put his phone and glasses on his nightstand and then rolled over to hold his friend closer, smiling thinly when he instantly clung back.
Plagg was curled up on the pillow above Adrien’s head, and his cat eyes blinked sleepily as he studied Nino. “Thanks, kid.”
Nino loosened a hand and reached up, scratching the cat on the head, fully prepared to lose a finger. To his surprise, Plagg just purred and nudged up into the touch. “Thanks for breaking the rules for him,” he whispered back. “I’m sorry I put both of you through that.”
“You’re a good kid, Nino,” Plagg said, yawning and curling his tail around himself. “Stupid, but good. Wayzz likes you for a reason.”
The Kwami went quiet and started snoring, leaving Nino to flush at the compliment, run his fingers through Adrien’s hair, and fall asleep with a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
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fivelakesinwriting · 3 years
Note
heyy!! love everything you write and would love to do this off anon but je suis shy 🤚 idk if you're taking requests for pope and i havent really thought this through but perhaps,, reader's kinda doing shit in school so pope offers to help (or she asks him to help idk) but she's pretty down bad since they barely get to spend time alone together so, uh, minimal studying ends up happening...
sorry for the crappy explanation but your last pop fic threw me for a loop 🙃
You are so sweet - do not have to be shy! I am always taking requests for our guy Pope. Thank you so much. You are the loveliest xoxo
Author's Notes: All characters are 18+ If I had a boyfriend like Pope I probably would have done better on my academics..maybe..If this was your request, I hope you love it !
Warnings: Sexual references - sexual innuendos *(Not full smut, but clothes are removed, and I suppose I eluded to unprotected sex - so be careful out there, your choice how!! )
Requested? YES! Requests for OBX are OPEN!
*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo
Pope tried not to get into his own head too much, or let JJ get into his head too much, when she had asked him over that night to help her study for an upcoming test.
"Dude. You know what that means, right? Come over and 'study'?"
His best friend's words rang in his head as he pedaled his bike through the Cut towards his new girlfriend's house. He was expecting nothing, and his book-bag was full of all the necessary notebooks and textbooks to help her prepare for his English exam this coming Thursday.
Pope knocked on the door of the small house and waited for a few minutes before he let himself in. Her parents weren't home, both of them pulling double shifts that day and her being an only child gave them more than enough time to be alone and study.
"You're not gonna study, dude."
Pope shook his head as JJ's words invaded his thoughts once more, then made his way through the short hallway at the front of the house and to the back towards her bedroom. He knocked on the door frame of her bedroom when he saw her pace the floor of her room, mumbling to herself.
"Hey. I'm here." He smiled softly as he placed his bag down on the floor by the doorway and walked in slowly.
"Pope. Thank, God." She breathed out at the sight of him. She walked over to him quickly and tossed her arms around his neck, pressed up on her toes to be closer to his height.
"Nervous?" He asked while he wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder while he let her squeeze her as tightly as she could.
"Yes."
"Don't be. I have the best system for studying, and it's even helped JJ a time a two when he's actually wanted to study. So, you'll be fine. Better than fine." Pope stated firmly as he pulled out of her tight grip then reached back to grab his book bag for his study supplies that he brought with him.
"You're so sweet for helping me, Pope." She breathed out as she walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down, running her hands through her hair.
"Of course. You know I'm here for you." Pope smiled softly as he walked over to the edge of the bed, sitting next to her. He placed his notebooks on his lap and handed her his textbook, marked with sticky notes and highlighted to perfection.
They studied for a full 45 minutes before her impatience and pure frustration with the subject got the best of her. She let out a loud groan, taking the book and tossing it across the room before she flopped back on the bed.
"I'm never going to get it right." She sighed heavily as she tossed her forearms over her face. She always felt so inferior when it came to books and smarts compared to Pope. He was brilliant, and he tried to hard to help her understand her subjects.
"It's alright. You will. Sometimes you need to study in little increments as opposed to all at once. We can take a break." Pope smiled softly as he removed the books from her lap, and his own, then placed them on the floor by the edge of the bed.
Pope laid back on the bed beside her, his hands respectfully on his stomach as he looked over at his girlfriend who was still in the throes of an academic meltdown.
"You're smarter than you think you are. You put too much pressure on yourself." Pope stated softly, a small smile on his face as she finally pulled her arms off her pretty face and looked over at him.
"Not as smart as you." She whispered as she reached a hand over and began to fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. She shifted her body so she laid on her side, propped up on one arm as she began to slowly unbutton his shirt.
"I - uh - I don't know if I would say that. You're really smart, and pretty. And like, really funny. Did I mention pretty? Because you're beautiful." Pope stammered as he looked from her face to her fingers as they pulled at the final button of his shirt.
"You've mentioned it a time or two." She nodded as she turned her body to straddle his hips, her hands pressed to his chest for leverage as she sat up straight.
"What are you doing?" Pope inquired softly as he sat upright, his hands on her hips as he let her wrap her arms around his neck.
"Study break?" She smiled as she began to push his shirt off of his shoulders, down to his elbows.
Pope let go of her hips in favour of shaking his hands out behind him, his shirt sliding off arms. He groaned when his girlfriend pressed her lips to his firmly, knocking him to his back again. Pope let out a long exhale through his nostrils as she pressed a firm kiss to his lips, his hands making their way to her backside to keep her in place on top of him.
"Your parents - " Pope breathed out as she began to kiss down his neck, her fingers trailing down his abdomen towards the button of his shorts.
"Mom is on late shift at the hospital, and my dad is driving a truck to Fortworth this week." She smiled into the crease of his neck as she felt him squeeze her backside over her shorts.
"Texas?" Pope asked with a heavy breath, his fingertips creeping up the back of her shirt.
"Long-haul trucker. You know that." She replied as she sat up, pulling her shirt over head.
"So, we're alone." Pope stated with his hands firmly on her hips while his eyes scanned over her chest in a bright yellow pushup bra.
"For a long time." She smiled with a nod, thumbing open the button of his shorts and then waiting. The tension between them thickened, both of them waiting for other to make the first move. They had been together before, more than a handful of times, but each time felt like the first time. That shortened breath, quick heartbeat. The excited nervousness was tangible.
"Can I?" Pope questioned as he reached his fingertips up to brush over the clasp of her bra. He sat up to be closer to her, feeling almost cold without her next to him.
"Of course you can." She nodded as she placed her hands on his shoulders, her forehead against his as he unhooked her bra and slid the straps down her shoulders.
"You're so beautiful." Pope breathed out while he pulled her bra off her arms and tossed it off the edge of the bed, his hands surging forward to cup her breasts.
"Thank you." She shivered at the feeling of his warm palms on her skin, her left hand at the nape of his neck while the other held herself steady on his shoulder.
Pope leaned forward to press a kiss to her collarbone, then began to press kiss after kiss along her chest as he gently kneaded her breasts, his breath heavy as she rocked her hips back and forth on top of him.
"Take off your pants, Pope." She whispered as she pulled her nails gently over his shoulders, not quite scratching him like she usually did, but close.
With her request ringing in his ears, Pope flipped his girlfriend onto her back on the bed and shimmied out of his shorts leaving him only in his briefs. He grabbed hold of her shorts and tugged them down her legs, along with her underwear, in one swoop. He dropped to his forearms above her again, his nose brushing over hers as he laid between her parted thighs.
"Come here, baby." She smiled as she pushed the waistband of his briefs down over his backside, pressing the heels of her feet under his backside to bring him right against her.
"You feel good." Pope groaned as he pressed his tip against her, his head dropped down to her forehead as he held himself up on his forearms.
"You're not even inside of me yet, Pope." She laughed breathlessly while she ran her hands down his back.
"Don't need to be. You're perfect." Pope whispered as he reached a hand between them to guide himself inside of her.
As Pope steadied himself, ready to settle inside of his love a loud gasp and a snicker echoed throughout the once otherwise quiet home.
"No, just leave it and go. They didn't see us. Move, JJ!"
"Wait, wait. I wanna see!"
"Guys, are you seriously here right now?" Pope groaned as his hips dropped down to his girlfriend's, his hand removed from between them to run over his face.
"I'm not looking. I just wanted to drop off an exam prep I had to help you guys out. Seriously!" Kiara yelled as she ran down the hallway with her hands over her eyes.
JJ stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets and a wide grin on his face. He raised his eyebrows at his friend before he turned on his heel, closing the door over behind him.
"Told you that you wouldn't study, Pope!"
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@babeyglo @starkey-babie @sodasback @fashion-fasting @barrysjumpsuit @beauvibaby @plutooryectors @rottenstyx @pogueslandia @soph0864 @whcclxr
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mtfstuff · 4 years
Text
Detective Mark
It was largely a standard mission. To infiltrate and arrest criminals and drug dealers. Not a big thing.
The problem is that they've managed to get their hands on one of those body possession machines. Thats how they managed to get out of prison. According to the latest report, they have taken teenagers in possession. After that mission everything changed, but let me tell you about it from the start.
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I was making myself something to eat as my boss walked in to talk to me.
"I got a new mission for you, Mark. Top secret, if you agree to do it.", he said.
"I'm listening. What should I do?", I answered.
"Criminals escaped the prison. Kenny Miller and Dan Schwarz. You know them?"
"Of course. I was the one who brought them behind bars. How did they escape?"
"Body possession. They got two guards which we later found unconscious 2 miles next to the prison."
"And my mission is to arrest them?"
"Roughly, yes. According to our latest reports they've managed to possess bodies of teenagers on a high school to start selling drugs again."
Now I knew what he wanted.
"I wont do that. You know I'm not into that.", I said.
"Top secret,  remember Mark. You're in.", he answered with a grin.
I let out a deep breath.
"Who will I take over?", I asked.
"The adoptive son of my dead sister.  He goes to the same school and was friends with the possessed victims. He is ready, so if you could follow me."
My boss walks away and I follow him through a door into the next room. The machine took almost the entire space of the room and by the looks of it, it was ready to use.
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In front of it was a young guy, probably my new body. He turns around to reveal his thick glasses. He has to be almost blind without them, I thought.
"Hi, I'm Eric.", he said reaching forward to shake my hand. I felt how he checked me out. How he glanced at my arms, my beard and my boots.
I shook his hand.
"I'm Mark. I'll be the one you're swapping bodies with.", I said.
I saw how his eyes lightened up until my boss started talking.
"Not really.", he said. "As Mark needs your knowledge about the school Eric, we'll place his consciousness over yours."
"So we'll be two guys in one body?", I asked.
"Correct.", he answered.
Eric and I sit down at the opposite ends of the machine. Arms, legs and head are tied to the machine. We both give the sign that we are ready. I close my eyes and count to 3. As I open them again, everything looks blurry.
"I cant see shit!", I said with a high pitched voice.
Cant wait to have my body back soon, this body is not made for a man like me, I thought.
I'm sorry that you dont like my body but you agreed to do this mission, I heard the high pitched voice in my head. Erics voice.
Off to a great start, didnt know we could hear each others thoughts, I thought. This time Eric stayed quiet.
Someone put myself glasses on. We got untied and I stood up. It was weird to control such a lean body. I looked over to my real body, laying unconscious in the seat. I missed it already but that it was unconscious was better than someone else walking around as me. Last time I switched bodies for work it was with a 70 year old man. My body was sticky when I got it back and my bathroom and some of my clothes were full with cum. So disgusting to think of someone jerking off in my body. Especially when it was a 70 year old.
In the evening I got driven to the school where I should arrest Kenny and Dan.
Two days later I finished the mission and got driven back to the police station. I entered the room with the machine again and saw my old body still laying there as if it wasnt moved. I was so happy to see it again. I sat down on the seat, closed my eyes and counted to 3. I felt my real body again. The warm leather jacket, my tight pants and shirt on my muscles. I wiggled my toes in my leather boots. It felt so great not wearing those Chucks anymore.
I opened my eyes to see that I was still tied to the machine.
"You can untie me now, guys.", I said. It was so great to hear my deep voice again.
Only now I noticed that something wasnt right. The only person with me and Eric in the room was my boss. Normally, multiple people would operate the machine.
I looked at my boss who was talking to Eric. Both whispered.
"Is everything alright?", I asked.
Both of them looked at me and Eric chuckled.
"My nephew said that you were quiet cocky in his body. You made nasty remarks about his clothes, his looks and so on. As compensation, he'll use your body for some time", my boss said.
I was shocked. I never thought something like this would happen.
"Wait, no. This is not true!", I shouted. "I never said something like this."
But it was to late. My boss pressed the button again and I felt how Erics soul entered my body. It was a cold feeling, causing me to shiver. I tried to push him back into his own body but through the help of the machine he overpowered me. I felt how I lost control of my limbs, my muscular body.
Its a pleasure to use this body, I heard Erics voice in my head.
My boss looked at me with a dark grin as he said:"Codename."
"Exodus", I heard myself answer.
"Good it worked.", my boss said as he untied my body.
I had no control over my body as it stood up and my arms started to touch my body. Eric took off my leather jacket and sniffed it. He let out a moan and grabbed my dick. I felt how my dick raised and I couldnt do anything.
"You have 30 minutes for yourself in the bathroom. Here are some clothes we took from his home.", my boss said as he took out a black sportsbag. He opened it to give us a look.
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"I see you in 35 minutes in my bureau, Mark.", he said leaving the room.
Eric grabbed the bag and went through the other door into the bathroom. We were alone.
He started to sniff my sweaty armpits and to lick my biceps. He rubbed my cock in my jeans while flexing my muscles in the mirror.
I felt how pre-cum started to drip into my jockstrap and I couldnt do anything against it.
Eric opened my belt and took my dick out of my jockstrap. He wanked it off but he didnt manage to shoot my load. He wanked so hard that he started to stumble. He looked down at my feet. At my black leather boots.
I always wanted to wear boots like this, even though I have to learn how to properly walk in them, his thoughts said.
Eric sat down on a toilet seat and pulled both boots off. He wiggled with my toes in my gold toe socks as he raised the first boot to my nose and put my dick into the second. I could smell the warm, worn leather and the sweat and I felt how that turned Eric on.
I felt how he pressed the top of my dick against the sole of my boot right as my body shot my first load. Eric opened my mouth and let out a loud moan. I was deeply embarrassed.
He switched boots so that I could smell the sweet cum inside my boot which caused me to shoot my second load right into my other boot.
He took off my Red shirt and wrapped it around my dick.
"Watch this.", he said.
He put both boots, with the cum inside, back on. I felt how my socks started to soak it up, it felt disgusting. Like wet socks. But this caused me to shoot my last load and probably the biggest I've ever had into my shirt.
Satisfied with what he did he looked at my watch.
10 minutes left. Time to dress up again, he thought.
He took my jockstrap and my pants off while walking back to the bag.
He looked inside and took a black jeans, jockstrap and a blue shirt out. He put the shirt on, letting my fingertips glide over my abs. He lifted my booted foot to put on my new jockstrap when I heard his thoughts. I dont need this, the jeans will feel great too. So he grabbed my black jeans and put it on. He put on my belt, my gun and my badge. At last he lifted my leather jacket from the bag, sniffed it one last time and put it on. He stuffed the old clothes into the bag and left the bathroom.
He walked into the bureau of my boss.
"Looking good, my son.", my boss said.
"Mark. We're not alone.", Eric answered. He crossed his arms. "What now?"
"First, we just got called to a crime scene. Ready up, we're driving in 5 minutes." He made a sign to come closer and Eric walked around the desk to stand next to him.
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"After that, we'll test that body to the max at home.", my boss whispered.
"Sounds good.", Eric answered.
The whole trip to the crime scene was torture. I had to see Erics thoughts about my naked body and the one of my boss. So gross. He also looked through my memories. I tried to stop him but I was too weak.
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Arriving at the crime scene I felt how my heart started to beat faster. Eric was nervously looking through my memories how to act as me. I didnt bother to stop him as I got weaker every time I tried and as I had to think about what gruesome night stood before me. I had to make peace that he will be me forever.
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creepytoes88 · 4 years
Text
His cumslut
Letting Vinnie do basically whatever he wants tends to benefit me more then most people might think. My best friends are always saying I’m gonna regret letting him go to whatever party or anyone's house. They say he’s a hypocrite because he always has tabs on where I'm at and who I'm with honesty it does get annoying at times but he can't help that he has trust issues. I knew what I was getting into when I said yes to being his girlfriend he has had a bad past with every girlfriend he's had, all of them have cheated and every girl he got with outside of a relationship just uses him. He was very clear on how he feels about unnecessarily revealing clothes “Wear what you want but if I have to kill a guy tonight I'm punishing you when we get home.”
A very common phase he uses but that's the worst of it I don't mind telling him who I'm with or where I am, I never ask him where he is because because I know he won't go looking around anywhere else. I've explained this to them a thousand times “Well tell us why your so confident he won't cheat” I blush slightly and shrug “YOU DO THIS EVERYTIME” I look down “it’s personal” they look at each other and laugh “tell us you prude” I chuckle slightly “promise no Judgement or making fun of me!” they both hold out their pinkeys and nod “wellllll...I let him do whatever he wants-” kay laughs “Yea we know” I look down “i mean anything” I slowly look back up “what he says goes.... Don't wear clothes for the rest of the week.....suddenly I'm busy all week” they look at me dumbfounded “of course there are exceptions but I let him have complete control with the sexual side of the relationship.” I say with a small smile “and he's good at it too” they look at each other and look back at me before busting out in laughter, “no wonder your not worried...your his sex slave” I tilt my head Vinnie had never used that term with me, I grew up with Vinnie me and him went to school together we weren't close till middle school we decided in freshman that we would be best as friends. The second week him and I were in LA we went to a party and ended up hooking up I was a virgin, and I thought it was gonna ruin everything but to my surprise, we just kept getting more and more serious.
After 5 months of living in the sway house, we moved out into our little house, our sex life completely changed when we no longer had people living with us. Vinnie told me his sexual dreams of having me whenever he damn well pleased and having me wear things he likes. Vinnie makes jokes about it but in real life I'm only allowed to call him Vinnie if we're in public inside the house his name is Daddy and that alone. The first time we had a fight in the house I called him by his name and he simply picked me up threw me over the couch, he edged me for hours when he finally let me release the power of it made me faint for a minute scaring the the absolute shit out of Vinnie. ”Honestly your not wrong...he’s never called me that but I guess your kinda right” they are quite for a second so I look at them “what” they look at each other before kay takes a deep breath “are you happy though, Outside of the sex he not controlling or pushy?” I smile “oh he's perfect and so sweet to me honestly I'm more worried of hurting his feelings.” I feel my phone vibrant and then Vinnie’s ring tone I answer quickly wondering why he didn't face time me or text me “hey bab-” I hear him breathing deeply “whats wrong?” I ask with worry “I really need you to head home now baby I’ve had a very long day and I need to release some tension.”
I feel shivers go down my spine and I feel myself already starting to get wet I let out a fake sigh “alright Vinnie if it’s that important I’ll be home in 10 minutes” hoping the girls won’t think it’s about something dirty. Vinnie lets out a chuckle “they are still giving you shit about me?” I laugh “I’ll be home soon I love you” I hung up and give the girls an apologetic face “girls I’m-“ they laugh and stand up “it’s okay Y/n we don’t want him to throw a tantrum because your not naked when you get there” I gasp turning around seeing their playful faces “you guys are ridiculous.” We all laugh as we go separate ways, I get in my car rushing home I want to beat him to the house so I can keep the plan of being naked. The second I step in the house I start stripping and then as I’m about to pull my skirt off I hear a door slam. I gasp and rush upstairs flinging my clothes off just leaving them there. I hear the Door open then slam shut I jump on the bed quickly, I place my head and chest against the bed my ass in the air. I spread my legs as far as possible trying to calm my breathing my heart is basically beating out of my chest as I wait for him patiently.
Vinnie's POV
I pull in to the house and shut off the car taking a deep breath ”Vinnie it's not Y/n’s fault that Justin is a dumbass” I say to myself getting out of the car I slam the door releasing as much anger as possible before going in the house to my beautiful wife to be. I will marry this woman she's everything I've ever wanted or needed but now isn't the time for marriage or at least that's what I keep telling myself walking in to the house and slamming that door too I am already kinda feeling better I'm still fucking pissed but I'm not raging anymore I toss my keys into the bowl and take off my shoes seeing hers just tossed to the side unlike usual. I walking into the living room to see her shirt and bra on the floor I smirk and walk up to the stairs seeing her skirt and her panties along with her socks right outside the closed door. “Hello my love-” I walk in to see her bent over with her ass in the air, her beautiful flower on full display along with her cute little button. The sight takes my breath away I can see her arousal dripping down her legs “well aren't you just the prettiest view.”
I see her wiggle her squishy cheeks making me laugh a little “wanna give Daddy a little dance show princess?” I was kidding but my baby never disappoints she immediately started to shake her butt to an imaginary song I watch with my mouth open a little I truly didn't know she was capable of dancing that way. I watch in awe as she began to make her ass clap (as one does💀) I grunt as I feel my dick become impossibly hard I began to take my clothes off as I pull down my boxers. My cock slaps against my lower stomach making my stomach twist I grab ahold of it watching as large amounts of pre-cum slip out. I swiping my tip letting out a little grunt, I hear her call my name I look up at her to see her look at me from between her legs “can I help?” she asks as she bites her lip. I immediately let go and I feel another large amount of pre-cum drip down my staff again making me blush slightly no one makes me as horny as she does.
Y/n’s POV
I jump up from my spot I roll off the bed dropping to my knees in front of him I take both my hands and intertwine them with his big warm hands. First I lick up the line of pre-cum that's made its way to his balls all the way back to his tip before sinking down till he hit the back of my throat. Vinnie lets out a gasp rocking his hips against my face pushing the rest of his cock down my throat a gag comes out as a result but I continue to bob my head and suck I pull my head off taking a breath or two before opening back up and taking him all the way till my nose is pushed against his naval. The prickly hair tickling my nose I let out a small giggle “Oh fuck what was that” Vinnie moans above me and he grabs the back of my head by my hair in a fist “I'm gonna fuck your throat baby are you ready?” I nod my head best I can with his thick and long cock stuffed in my throat and blocking my airway. He pulls back till his tip is almost out before thrusting back in a popping and gagging sound come from my throat and my eyes rolls to the back of my head. I never thought I would get so much pleasure from giving a man head in my life but something about his taste and the feeling of him stuffing my throat that I just can't get enough of. Once I spent a whole day just sucking his dick he came in my mouth and down my throat too many times to count I had a little stomach bulge after and it kinda looked like a food baby. I remember Vinnie asked if that meant I was technically carrying his children now I smile slightly at the memory but I'm brought back to reality when I hear him calling my name “oh fuckfuckfuck” he pushes his cock as far down my throat as possible “Shit Y/n fuck baby!” shooting a long, and hot load down my throat I grab his hips gargling my throat around his cock making him jump and try to pull away as he continues to cum down my throat. He succeeded in pulling out and the last little bit of cum landing on my tongue “mmmm Daddy you taste so good” I say licking my lips I use my finger to the the rest off my chin and off his tummy I look in his eyes at I take the finger and put in my mouth moaning at the taste again. “Fuck Princess you enjoy that way to much don't you think?” he laughs as he lays down on the bed “my balls hurt” he laughs I crawl back on top of him kissing his cheeks and finally his lips “you taste so good though Daddy, I just can't get enough of you.” I run my hands threw his hair “give me like 10 minutes and ill make you feel so good baby” he says as he kissed my neck I sit beside him rubbing his god like body (somebody said something about licking his biceps in the comments as I kinda like that idea so enjoy)
I run my hands over his shoulders and down his arms admiring his gorgeous skin I feel the need to worship him show him just how much of a slave for him I am he doesn't need to tell me I'm his slave, I already know I am and I'm gonna show him. “Mmm Daddy let me worship you” I whine as I began to kiss his chest and shoulders I run my hands up and down his toned stomach I began to kitten lick his hard muscles sucking little hickeys while I'm at it. “Fuck Princess what did you say” I start to kiss and lick his abs my hands rubbing his hard thighs pulling away I say “when I was at lunch with the girls I finally told them the truth about why I trust you so much they called me your sex slave.” I stop and begin to leave hickeys all over his hips and sex lines his hard cock brushing my cheeks and chin “I thought about it and I agree and honestly I wouldn't have it any other way” I lean down kissing his lips “oh princess I'm gonna make you more then just my sex slave” I sinister smile runs across his face and gleam appears in his eyes “I'm gonna make you my cumslut and your gonna beg for my cum....well everywhere if I have it my way.” he says looking in my eyes I feel a blush run on my cheeks and an excited shiver run down my back “you know you'll have it your way Daddy that my job right?” I say with a cute smile tilting my head trying to look innocent Vinnie let's put a dark chuckle “I can't wait to ruin you and really turn you into my cumslut” he pulls me down before flipping us over so he's on top “you won't be able to think about anything else except the way it feels for me to cum in your beautiful body” that sentence sent a violent shiver down my spine, I just got on birth control a little over 2 weeks ago but we haven't had raw sex quite yet mostly because we wanted to be sure the birth control is in full effect before taking the chance. (let's pretend you can't get pregnant on birth control at all lmao) I guess now is better than never “please Daddy make me your cum slut” I whine hooking my leg around his hip running my hands threw his hair.
Vinnie’s POV
My poor little bunny had no idea what she was doing to me as far as she's concerned these are just words flying out of her mouth but to me they are her words of true love and true trust. She trusts me enough to control her body and soon her mind, once she falls into the state of a cumslut I know she won't be able to control her body or her mind hopefully she feels relaxed in that state. The last thing I would want is for her to have a bad experience with me being the one in charge. I push my head into her neck running my staff between her slick lips a small moan falls from her lips “thank you, baby, I won't disappoint you I promise.” I kiss her lips once more before grabbing ahold of both of her legs pushing my spongy tip into her entrance the feeling completely different from when I have a condom on I let out a low gasp. Goosebumps pop up on my skin and a shiver runs down my spine as I pull out a light popping noise is made “UGH FUCK YOUR SO TIGHT” I let out a loud moan throwing my head back. I look back down seeing my sweet girl looking back up at me with wide innocent eyes and her mouth slightly open her hands hold tight onto my shoulders without even thinking I push inside of her both of us moaning as her wet walls fluttering around my dick about sending me into orbit I quickly bottom out letting out a grunt using my free hand to move her hair out of her face “F-fuck Daddy please I want you to use me” I began to jackhammer into her feeling her wall pulse around me her loud moans filling my ears as I pick up her legs pushing them into her shoulders feeling myself go further inside of her “Da-DADDY” I chuckle “what baby is there something you want” she whines and grinds her hips into me making me go even further if that's possible. “Daddy please cum inside of me I wanna feel it” Her little body was shivering, I feel my balls tighten so I began to rapidly pound inside of her “OH YESSS IM CUMMMING” she yells out thrusting her hips up. I grunt pushing as far into her as I can releasing deep inside of her, I look down to see her tense and shivering “you ok bunny,” I ask slightly worried “i-so um I-please” I look at her slightly confused “what baby?” I say with a little laugh I see her open her eyes a little before spreading her legs again “more please.” she whines out I drop my mouth open at my cute little whiney mess “oh princess you have no clue what you just did”
I have other things coming but should I make a part 2 to this
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ifmywishescametrue · 3 years
Note
i don't know if you're still taking prompts (so please ignore this if you aren't) but i cant stop thinking about your recent buckytony fic (and how much i love breaking up and making up as a trope) - so i was wondering if you'd be up for doing smth else w that trope for buckytony?? maybe they re-unite at a mutual friend's wedding?? and it brings up emotions about their almost wedding?? idk i just really love breaking up and making up as a trope and i really love your writing :))
thank you!! I'm very much up for doing another buckytony break up/make up, plus you deserve nice things for finishing law school - congrats on that!🎉🎉hope you like this one 😊
There's a ring on Bucky's finger.
It's the first thing Tony notices when he walks into the bar for Natasha and Sharon's joint bachelorette party. He stands there in the doorway, frozen and staring until someone clears their throat pointedly behind him, and he mumbles an apology as he moves out of the way.
He thinks about turning around and not coming back, just ditching the event entirely and maybe even the wedding tomorrow, but he tosses the ridiculous thought the second it comes. He promised Sharon when she asked him to be her man of honor that he could handle Bucky being Nat's. Living on the other side of the country afforded him to miss the rest of the events and planning along the way, and he could deal with one day of being cordial to his ex, even if the day comes with walking down an aisle together.
But now there's a ring on Bucky's finger.
The silver catches the light, and it's on prominent display with his left hand wrapped around a beer bottle. It shouldn't be possible for him to have moved on that quickly. Eight months shouldn't be long enough to bury three years of memories. Three years of hopes and dreams and plans for a future built together. Years of love so blindingly intense that it burrowed into Tony's soul to make a home and refused to be evicted just because it was supposed to be over.
Tony wonders what the timeline is. Did he find someone new while Tony was still just beginning to pick up his own scattered pieces? A first date for him while Tony was barely getting out of bed. When was it that he replaced Tony as the last person to have his heart? And how did he find forever in someone else so soon after losing the one he used to call his soulmate?
Natasha notices him first, still hovering near the entrance, and she raises a single eyebrow that calls him a coward. He rolls his eyes at the accusation, though it's accurate. She elbows Sharon to catch her attention, and before he knows it the entire small group is turning their heads his way, giving him no choice but to join them.
It's less bachelorette party and more pre-wedding celebration with the crowd they've gathered, all mutual friends of both brides with no regards for gender traditions that usually come with this night. Tony used to fit in well with them all, back when gatherings like this were just a typical Friday night. But he made himself an outsider between the move to California and the breakup with Bucky. All he has now with most of them is a dead group chat that hasn't been used in months. He wonders which one of them made the new one without him in it.
Sharon is the first to pull him into a hug, then Natasha follows suit. He gets a nod from Sam, a wave from Clint, and what might pass as a smile from Steve. Bucky stares so intensely that Tony can feel his eyes with his back turned, but when Tony looks his way, he pretends to be interested in the floor.
He had a plan before the ring threw him off. Step one should have been the entrance. Head held high, shoulders square, perfect outfit that shows everything off and compliments the Malibu tan he has now. Step two should be nonchalance. A light hearted greeting to everyone, accompanied by an easy grin and relaxed body language, and catching up with subtle brags slipped in. Show them all that he's doing better than he ever was, sitting on top of the world these days, even if most of the time it feels like he's barely above rock bottom.
Step three in his ideal scenario involved Bucky breaking down and begging to get him back. Some versions even had him on his knees for it, with tears running down his face. Others required it to be raining outside, and the cloudless sky ruined that before the ring on Bucky's finger did.
With steps one and three out the window, he tries to salvage step two.
“Hey,” Tony starts, a little too loud. He swallows the lump in his throat and tries again, “Hey, Bucky. It's good to see you.”
Bucky nods, a strained, jerky motion. “Yeah, you too. How, uh, how have you been?”
“Good. Really good, actually. Company just had its highest sales quarter yet, so it’s been a little crazy around there, but good.”
“Good,” Bucky repeats, and there’s a long awkward pause.
“And what about you?” Tony asks, and then because he can’t help himself, he adds, “I see you got engaged. Or, hell, I guess it could be married, even.”
Bucky freezes with parted lips and wide eyes for the briefest of moments, like he wasn’t expecting Tony to know about it or bring it up, and his eyes shift to the ring on his hand and stay there.
“Yeah,” he says slowly. “Engaged. Last week.”
Tony ignores the ache in his chest and plasters on a smile like he’s happy for him. “Congratulations. Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t know him. Steve introduced us. They work together.”
“So he’s at the museum then? I thought you used to say that you hated all those stuffy guys and Steve was the only one worth knowing.”
Bucky smiles, a fond thing that widens the crack in Tony’s heart. “Yeah, well, I guess I was wrong. Felix is a great guy.”
Tony resists the urge to roll his eyes. Stupid name that probably matches a stupid, punchable face.
Some masochist thing pulls at him to make him keep digging for more information, a twisted need to know even as each word pushes the knife in deeper. He aims for casual, leaning back against one of the high top tables as he asks, “So how long have you been together?”
“Just a couple of months. Kind of fast, I know, but when you’re sure about something, it doesn’t really matter, right? Why waste time waiting?”
“Right, of course,” Tony says, a little flatter than he intends. “So why isn’t he here tonight? Hope it wasn’t to spare my feelings, because it’s really not necessary.”
Bucky falters, “It’s not? You, uh, you’re dating someone, then?”
Tony nods, and he wishes he had grabbed a drink before this so he could hide behind it as he lies through his teeth. “Only a few weeks, though. A little too early to be a wedding date, but I’m sure your guy will be there tomorrow right?”
“Oh, um, yeah, definitely. Why wouldn’t he be, right? There’s no reason I can think of,” Bucky says, stumbling around it. “But tell me more about your thing. Your person. How’s that going?”
Tony shrugs, and he finally pulls off that easy smile he’s been trying for. “Well, it’s not get engaged in a couple of months good, but it’s been really great. We’re taking it slow. Trying not to rush anything and just get to know each other first. I think it could really be something, though.”
“That’s good,” Bucky mumbles. “You deserve something good.”
He isn’t meeting Tony’s eyes anymore, almost like he’s upset that Tony moved on, and the vindictive part of Tony wants to be happy about it, but another part wants to be angry because it isn’t fair. It’s not fair to act like Tony should stay stuck in time, forever longing for him when he already moved on with someone else first. It’s hypocritical and selfish, even if Tony is lying about there being anyone else.
“Well, I’m gonna go get a drink,” Tony says, pushing down every feeling. “Should catch up with everyone else, too, while I’m at it. I’ll talk to you later.”
He heads over to the bar and isn’t surprised when Sharon joins him a moment later, right after he orders a double shot of whiskey. She puts an arm around his shoulder and asks, “Are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tony laughs, running a hand through his hair. “My ex is engaged to somebody else and apparently doing really fucking well. Meanwhile, I’m making up fake boyfriends that I’m taking it slow with, because last week I went on my first real date in eight months and cried in the bathroom in the middle of it. And then, at the end of the night, he literally told me to my face that he didn’t think a second date was a good idea. We weren’t even talking about it, Sharon. He said it unprompted when we were still ten minutes from his apartment, and I was driving.”
Sharon nods slowly as she processes the rant. “He told you he got engaged?”
“Yeah, thanks for not telling me, by the way. It was really fun to get blindsided by it.”
She ignores the complaint to ask, “What else did he tell you, exactly?”
“Oh, just the whole line about how you know when you know, and Felix is such a great guy, and all that bullshit.”
“Felix,” Sharon repeats.
Tony knocks back the rest of his drink and orders another. “Please tell me he’s not better looking than me. Tell me it’s a downgrade. Don’t lie, because I know I have to meet him tomorrow, but please give me something that will make this better.”
“Well, I can guarantee he’s not as attractive as you. But he’s a little too perfect, you know? Like how could this guy possibly be real, he’s so unbelievably perfect,” Sharon says.
“I told you to make me feel better, not worse.”
Sharon shakes her head with a smile, the arm around him tightening into an approximation of hug. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I don’t think they’re going to last. He’s kind of flaky, too. Always cancelling at the last minute and all that. Bet he won’t even show tomorrow.”
The amusement on her face that she’s failing to hide confuses him. He’s starting to feel bad, though, for making the night about him when it should be about her and Nat.
Resolving not to dwell on it anymore, he squeezes the hand on his shoulder and says, “Alright, enough sad drinking, and definitely enough about me. We’re celebrating you and Nat and a lifetime of sickeningly wonderful happiness for both of you.”
Sharon grins, “Hell yeah, we are.”
“Shots?”
“Is that even a question?”
_____________
He wakes up with a headache and hazy memories. Shots of tequila that turned into shots of vodka when Nat got involved, then Clint’s terrible suggestion to try a shot of every liquor they had to offer. He vaguely remembers the round of toasts and drunken impromptu speeches from everyone, locking eyes with Bucky and failing to look away on both their parts. There’s a blur of wandering hands and heated, messy kisses. A bathroom stall turned into a cab ride which turned into his hotel room. He knows what he’ll find next to him when he opens his eyes, and guilt comes in full force.
“I know you’re awake,” Bucky says, voice still rough with sleep. It used to be Tony’s favorite sound in the world. “And I know we’re both sorry about what happened, but pretending to be asleep isn’t fixing nothin’.”
Tony shifts over to his back, and if there was any question before about what happened between them, the all too familiar ache in his body would answer it. He stares up at the ceiling to avoid the acres of bare skin on display next to him.
“You should probably leave,” Tony says to the walls. “I’m sure your fiancé is wondering where you are.”
“I doubt it.”
Tony puts an arm over his eyes, partly to block out the light that makes them ache and partly to hide his face. “Just go, okay? It was a mistake, and it won’t happen again, and we don’t have to talk about it.”
“Was it a mistake?” Bucky asks. “It didn’t feel like one to me.”
He doesn’t answer, and it’s soft and broken when Bucky says his name. Too much for him to handle.
Tony pushes back the blankets and searches for Bucky’s clothes in the mess they’ve made. He finds the shirt first and throws it at him. “You’re engaged, which means it was a mistake.”
His boxers are on the back of the couch, jeans right in front of the door, and they join the pile on Bucky’s lap. “You promised the rest of your life to somebody else, and I’m pretty sure fidelity is supposed to go with that.”
He tosses a shoe in the general direction of the bed, and it hits the nightstand with a loud thud. The second shoe is still in his hand when Bucky gets up and walks over to him, taking it and letting it drop to the floor.
His eyes hold a level of intensity that Tony has spent months dreaming about, and Tony couldn’t look away or move from this spot even if he tried.
“Felix isn’t real,” Bucky says. “I made him up when you asked, because I didn’t want to tell you the truth that I haven’t moved on in the slightest. That I’m so pathetic that I’ve spent the last eight months wearing an engagement ring that I bought for a guy who doesn’t love me anymore because I don’t know how to let him go.”
Tony stops breathing. “What?”
Bucky slides the ring from his finger, holding it between them so Tony can see the inscription. Always yours. He can’t remember the last time he heard the words get spoken.
“When?” Tony asks hoarsely. “When did you get that and why didn’t you ever ask me?”
“About a year ago,” Bucky says, slipping it back on his own finger. He sits back on the edge of the bed and stares down at it, twisting it around. “I thought about doing it on your birthday, but Nat and Sharon had just gotten engaged the week before and I didn’t want to take anything away from them. You were working a lot of late nights after that, and I thought it would be better to wait until things slowed down. You were so tired all the time, and you deserved a better proposal than when you’re falling asleep in the middle of dinner. It never slowed down, though. And then you got that big promotion and somehow we fell apart instead. If I’m honest, I still don’t really know how. One minute I’m getting ready to come with you, and the next you’re telling me not to bother.”
Tony sits down next to him, shoulders touching, and he pulls Bucky’s left hand into his. “You didn’t really want to go.”
“That’s not true,” Bucky says, but Tony shakes his head.
“All you talked about was how much you would miss New York. How much you’d miss your friends and your family and your job. Every day, everywhere we went. Even the fucking hot dog stands got sonnets about them. It really didn’t take a genius to figure out that you weren’t exactly looking forward to leaving.”
“I still would have gone for you,” Bucky argues. “I told you I would go anywhere with you, if it was what you wanted.”
“And then what? You move with me, and you’re miserable all the time, because my job never slows down so I’m still not around as much as you want, except now it’s compounded because you’re in a city that you hate with no one else that you know. You resent me for making you go, and the outcome is the same in the end either way.”
“Or I move with you, and I finally ask you to marry me like I’ve wanted to since almost the day we met. I find new friends and a new job, and even if it’s not perfect, it’s still worth it because at the end of the day I have a husband coming home to me.”
Tony runs his thumb over the ring and murmurs, “I wanted you to be happy. I didn’t think I could do that for you anymore.”
Bucky cups his cheek, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but baby, you’re an idiot.”
“Oh, thanks,” Tony laughs.
“You’re my idiot, if that helps.”
Tony smiles, still fragile but growing more hopeful. “Am I?”
“Always have been,” Bucky says. “Always will be if you stop assuming I’m going to leave you all the time. Let me decide for myself what I’m willing to sacrifice for us.”
Tony nods slowly, then says, “I’m sorry for ending it like that.”
“I’m sorry for making you feel like you had to.”
Tony climbs into his lap, circling his arms around his neck, and Bucky pulls him in closer with his hands on Tony’s hips. The ring is strange to feel against his skin, but also completely right. He wants it to stay there and to mean what it was always supposed to. Wants one of his own to match.
“We can fix it, right? We can be us again?”
“I don’t know,” Bucky says, and Tony’s heart sinks for just a moment. “Is your boyfriend as real as my fiancé?”
Tony laughs again in relief, “Yeah, they’d be a good pair.”
“I knew you had to be lying. You’ve never taken it slow in your life,” Bucky grins.
“Do you want me to start now?”
Bucky flips them over in one fluid motion, and he kisses up his throat as he murmurs, “Absolutely not.”
152 notes · View notes
cjsinkythoughts · 4 years
Text
Ocean Eyes, Cherry Lips, Ivory Keys
Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 2747
Warnings: Cursing, mentions of alcohol, I think that’s all
A/N: This is a headcanon I’ve had for a while that I’ve been wanting to write about 40s!Bucky, pre-War. I kinda want to write a series about it, so that might happen. For now, enjoy this little tidbit I’ve written, with the prompt of Occasion for HBC’s Lucky in Love Day 18! (This isn’t beta’d so please excuse mistakes.)
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He’s something of a celebrity. A living legend. A God amongst humans. Starting as a kid in Brooklyn, his fanbase rapidly grew, expanding to Queens, Manhattan, even parts of New Jersey, just in the past few years.
You don’t get it. So what if he’s got cool blue eyes, soft chocolate hair, and a charming smile? Who cares if he’s got smooth moves and even smoother words? He’s just a man - a human being - with flaws just like everyone else. A talented and gorgeous man, who has all of New York wanting to fall to her knees to please him, but still just a man.
James Buchanan Barnes.
Most everyone knew his name, but there was a lot of mystery surrounding the actual character. 
You just don’t see what all the fuss is about. You’ve never personally met him, or even seen him, but you know people who have. Your friend’s cousin even claims to have danced with him once. Not that that would be hard. You hear he’s never danced with the same bird twice, and, considering most start dancing in their teenage years, that’s a lot of dames.
It’s not that you’re not curious about him - if he’s actually as dashing as they say - but you’re not about to stop your life for him like some of your friends. They’re obsessed with getting his attention. With seeing if they’d be the one. The one to finally chain him down and tame him. The one he’d go steady with.
It feels like that’s all you ever talk about anymore. It was amusing at first, but now it’s just getting annoying. It’s been three years since that day in March of 1938, when your roommate ran into your room, plopping down onto your bed, before ranting and raving about the new ocean eyed piano player at her favorite bar. And since then, he’s been in your life without actually being in your life.
Speaking of, here you are. Listening to Lucy, MaryAnne, and Jean gushing over the man, trying to enjoy your milkshake.
“I heard from Sally that Thomas said that he knew the brother of one of his friend’s in high school!”
“That can’t be true! I heard from Billy, who heard from Martha, who was told by Ben, that he only had, like, one friend in high school.”
“You’re kidding, right? There��s no way a man like that had only one friend.”
“I hear he does boxing and that’s why he’s got a body sculpted like a Greek God.”
“Oh my God! MaryAnne!”
You rub your temples, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as the three burst into fits of giggles. If you have to hear one more word about-
“I heard he’s going to be playing at Georgie’s on Friday!”
Gasps echoed around the table. “No way! Georgie’s?”
You raise an eyebrow, this actually intriguing you. Georgie’s is a popular little hole in the wall, on the edge of being a speakeasy, which doubles as a pub and a dance hall in Brooklyn. It’s one of the best hang outs for kids like you and your girls, but it isn’t very high class. Maybe that’s why it’s one of the best. “Isn’t Georgie’s a little…cheap for him? He’s been playing at the best bars and restaurants for a while now.”
“It’s a classic in Brooklyn. Near his home, probably.”
“Do you think he lives near there?!”
“Ooo! Maybe we could find out!’
You scoff. “That,” gesturing to Lucy with your glass, you take a sip of your milkshake. “Is called stalking, my friend.”
Jean waves towards you dismissively. “I think he lives near Tin Pan Alley. That’s where he plays the most, after all. Georgie’s was probably just an old hang out for him and his pals.”
“Wait, wait,” you shake your head, a thought popping into your head. You turn to Lucy, confused. “How’d you find out he’s playing at Georgie’s anyways? Isn’t part of his whole act not telling anyone where he’s playing?”
Giving you a smirk and a wink, Lucy shrugs. “I’ve got my connections.”
You roll your eyes again, turning your attention back to your milkshake. “So?!” MaryAnne squealed. “We’re going on Friday, right?”
“Hell yes!”
“Absolutely!”
“Not.” You mumble, causing the other three to stare at you incredulously.
“Not?!”
“I’m not wasting my Friday night going to see some fella you all have a crush on. Especially when he might not even be there.”
Your friends groan, exchanging glances. “And what’re you gonna do?” Jean crossed her arms with a pointed look on her face. “Sit down and read a book like you always do?”
You huff. “I like reading, sue me. I don’t get a lot of time to myself. You know that new girl’s been gumming up the works and I’ve had to stay late to fix her mistakes all week.”
“This is exactly what you need, then! Come out, have a drink, jive a little-”
You look up at that, an amused kind of smirk on your lips. “Jive? Me and my clumsy ass?”
You all laugh. “Okay, so maybe not dance, but c’mon! It’ll be snazzy, you’ll see!”
“Fine, fine.” Standing up with a sigh, you collect your things, smoothing down your dress with your hands. “I’ve gotta scram.”
“We’ll see you on Friday, right?”
You give a small smile, shooting them a wink. “I guess I can make it.”
***************
Friday comes a lot faster than you anticipate. You dress up; a navy blue dress going to your knees with white, heart shaped buttons and a bow around the waist. The shoes you’re wearing are your nice black and white Mary Janes. Lips painted deep red, and hair pinned back in loose curls, you glance over yourself in a mirror. You’ll admit; you look damn good. You don’t wanna go, but you might as well try to have some fun since you are.
It’s a cool evening, early May meaning the summer humidity hasn’t hit just yet. You didn’t even think about bringing a coat, but you start to regret the decision as you start walking. MaryAnne, who you actually room with, already left, being way too excited to stay put.
It doesn’t take you long - you live on the border of Queens and Brooklyn - but your feet are more sore than you’d like when you arrive.
“I knew you’d come!” Lucy grins, coming up besides you and linking her arm in yours. MaryAnne comes up on your other side and does the same to your free arm.
“Where’s Jean?”
“Where do you think? She already found a Joe to swing with.”
You laugh. “Of course she has! So is your dreamboat here?”
The grins that are immediately on their faces answer your question and they quickly drag you inside.
It’s hot and crowded and dim. Skirts with their beaus, guys with their broads, swinging and dancing to the lively music of the band on stage. Smoke from cigarettes, pipes, and cigars is evident in the air as they neared the bar portion of the building, mixing with the boisterous sound of laughter and chatter.
“Everyone’s talking about it! He’s here, but he hasn’t played yet. We’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of him, but we think he’s in a back room.” The dramatic sigh MaryAnne gives makes you laugh a little.
“Okay, khaki whackies. Let’s get a drink.”
You, just as you thought would happen tonight, are left alone at the bar by your friends who quickly found partners to dance with. A few men asked you, but you have never been a good dancer.
You’re lost in thought, running a finger gently around the rim of your cup, when a voice sounded besides you, pulling you out of your thoughts, a slight rasp to the otherwise mellifluous voice.
“You gonna drink that, doll, or just stare at it all night?”
You raise an eyebrow at the jest, turning your head, only to have your breath hitch. What a specimen. Ocean blue eyes, fluffy brown curls, cherry pink lips. A white dress shirt is pulled over his broad chest, gray dress pants hugging thick thighs, matching suit jacket across wide shoulders. He has a blue, black, and white plaid tie around his neck and you can see the edges of his blue suspenders under his blazer. He’s put together, but it’s nothing special, a normal Sunday best suit, that much you can tell.
“Uh, not all night.” You look back to the drink, before looking at the clock with a hum, tilting your head playfully. “Maybe another hour.”
He chuckles, gesturing for the bartender. “Tell me this, sweetheart. What is a beautiful dame like yourself doin’ drinking alone?”
“I’m not very good on my feet, I’m afraid.” You laugh nervously, taking a sip of your drink.
“Don’t come here often, then?”
“Only for special occasions.”
“What’s the special occasion this evenin’, sugar?”
You shrug. “My friends dragged me here. They’re practically in love with this guy who’s supposedly playing the piano tonight. James Barnes. Have you ever heard of him?”
He chuckles, a grin pulling his lips upwards. “Yeah. Yeah I’ve heard of ‘im. Not a big fan yourself?”
“I’m sure he’s fine. I just don’t understand the fascination with him. Let the man be.”
“I agree.” He hums with a nod, grabbing the glass of whiskey the bartender set in front of him. “I actually know him.”
“Really?” You look at him in interest.
He tilts his head with a smile towards you that makes you melt. “Yeah. He feels the same. He just likes playin’. That’s all. He didn’t want all the attention. He gets enough without that.”
You raise an eyebrow, finishing off your drink. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m Bucky by the way.”
You eye his hand, grabbing it after a second, letting him bring your knuckles to his lips. “Y/N.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, mama.” He shifts his body more towards you, running a hand through his hair. “You said you ain’t fond of dancin’?”
Shaking your head, you quickly defend yourself, “no, no. I like dancing. I’m just not very good. Got two left feet.”
He smirks, tongue poking out to run over those plump lips of his. “Well, with the right partner, it doesn’t really matter.”
“Are you asking me to dance, Bucky?”
“Not if you’re gonna say no.” He responds with a toothy grin, leaning his elbows on his knees.
You sigh and shake your head. “I’m afraid tonight’s not your night, pal. I just can’t seem to get myself in the mood.”
He hums, leaning back. “Is it the music? Too fast for you?”
“I wouldn’t mind if they slowed it down some, I suppose.”
He smiles cheekily. “I can help with that. Hold on.”
You grin at him, nodding. “I’ll be here.”
Watching him stand and make his way over to the stage, you quirk an eyebrow. He seems to know the band well, if the handshakes and the claps on the back have anything to say about it. He says something to the lead, who nods with a grin, shooting him a wink. Bucky laughs, but you can see a tint of pink dusting his cheeks, making you wonder what they were saying.
He makes his way back over as the band shifts tones, the animated swing changing to a slow jazzy number. Bucky beams at you, holding out his hand as he approaches. “Care to dance?”
You purse your lips, narrowing your eyes, but taking his hand anyways. “How’d you do that? Do you work here?’
“Uh…somethin’ like that.” He states vaguely, leading you to the dance floor with the other swaying couples. Pulling you as close as appropriate, his hands resting politely on your waist, he starts moving you side to side. 
“That’s not ominous.” You place your hands on his shoulders, following his lead as you stare at your feet.
He chuckles, hooking a finger under your chin to lift your gaze. “I’ve gotcha, doll. I won’t let you fall.”
“I’m going to step on your feet.” You explain.
“Nah. You’re doin’ great. You just need to get outta your head. Relax a little. Tell me something about yourself.”
You hum. “Like what?”
“Anything.”
“Uh, okay…I have a roommate who is one of the girls who begged me to come, I’m a secretary - I know, boring - and…I dunno. I like reading.”
His eyes lighten at this. “Reading? Whaddya like to read?”
“Different things. Depends on my mood. I’m re-reading The Hobbit for, like, the twentieth time right now.”
“I love The Hobbit.” Bucky grins, making you smile back. “I read it almost as soon as it came out.”
“Me too! I was planning on reading it tonight but,” you gesture around. “Here I am.”
Bucky lips pull up softly, his hold on your waist tightening ever so slightly as he pulls you closer. “Well, as much as I love that book, I’m glad you came out tonight.”
Giving him a little tease, you tap your chin thoughtfully. “Eh…I think I’d rather be at home.”
He pinches your side gently, making you squeal and squirm. “That hurt, sugar. That physically hurt me. C’mon, mama, your gonna say you aren’t havin’ a good time?”
“I just met you ten minutes ago.”
“Well, sweetheart, if you think we’re movin’ too fast, I won’t introduce you to my folks just yet.”
You laugh, blinking up at him. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Buck.”
The two of you rock for a little while longer, before the band stops, announcing they’re taking a break and a special guest is going to play a little something.
“Maybe James Barnes is here.” You say, a bit of intrigue lacing your tone, trying to see through the crowds of people who started gathering around the stage to catch a glimpse of the charming pianist. “I see why he would be over the attention.”
“Yeah.” Bucky sighs, almost sadly, giving you an apologetic look. “Listen, I’ve gotta go work for a bit, but I’ll be right back.”
You smirk. “So you do work here?”
“Um…kinda. You’ll see.”
You raise an eyebrow at his words, but he’s kissing your knuckles and walking away. You frown, but can’t think more on it when three young women are on you, babbling about their dates.
“Who were you dancing with, Y/N? He was cute!”
You roll your eyes, feeling yourself heat up, and not because of the many bodies in the vicinity. “Just…some guy.”
“C’mon, c’mon! We’ve gotta get a good spot to actually see him!”
You huff, letting the drag you through the crowd, shoving their way towards the front just as a familiar deep voice spoke. 
“Thanks for comin’ out, everyone. I hope your havin’ a good night. Let’s get this hop started, yeah?”
Your eyes widen when you finally catch sight of the man sitting at the piano with a polite smile on his features. He catches your eye and shoots you a wink, before his fingers start flying over the keys. The beam that he gets while tickling the gleaming ivories, his azure eyes lighting up, and you can’t fight the smile you get. He looks so relaxed, so invigorated, that it makes you happy just watching him.
“Oh my God! Weren’t you dancing with him?!” Lucy shook your shoulder obnoxiously, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, mesmerized with the way he played like it’s the only thing he wanted to do with his life. Which, as you remember his words, ‘he just likes playin’. That’s all.’ you figure it is the only thing he wanted to do with his life.
You just danced with James Barnes…and he’s just as perfect as everyone says.
You’re still trying to wrap your head around it, your friends jumping around you, trying to get every little detail of him from you, when your heart skips a beat and your brain malfunctions. Bucky had started up another song, slower and more intimate, and he’s looking right at you. 
You find yourself doing something you never thought you would; you’re swooning over James Barnes, smiling like an idiot, heat blooming up your neck and flaming your face. And yes, he’s just a man - a human being - with flaws just like everyone else. But he’s a talented and gorgeous man, who has all of New York wanting to fall to her knees to please him.
And now that includes you.
377 notes · View notes
robinofgothamcity · 3 years
Text
♡ prompt: “i'll make sure never to leave you alone.” 
♡ pairing: Baron Zemo x fem reader
♡ lyric inspiration: “you know I’m just a flight away, if you wanted you could take a private plane, los kilometros estamos conectando y me prendes aunque no me estes tocando.”
♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / for OBVIOUS reasons, heavy spoiler warning if you are not watching or are planning on watching Falcon and the Winter Soldier. this is kind of based on episodes three and four. 
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“we might need to call an old friend of mine for help,” Sam told both Bucky and Zemo. Bucky gave him a look of confusion, “she’s a friend of my sisters. before the blip and all that, she was a working college student. she’s really good at being a decoy for things,” Sam explained. 
Bucky sighed, not knowing whether to agree with this or not. Zemo had no say in the matter as he was on a very strict leash with Sam so he didn’t bother to say much. 
“well, what are we waiting for? if we need to be in Madripoor soon, I think it’s best we get ahead of the game before it gets any later than it already is,” Bucky stated as Sam agreed. 
Zemo had been ‘kind’ enough to fly them back to where you currently stayed at. 
+
the four of them touched down in Wisconsin in the later part of the morning. the wind was blowing briskly through the air as they all groaned about the slight cold. Sam was never the one to like the cold in the first place, Bucky for obvious reasons despised the winter climate, and Zemo found the Wisconsin farm scenery to be eye-catching. 
“wait, how is she going to help us again?” Zemo asked as Sam put the information of your current house into the GPS. “she’s worked a lot with computers. she became friends with Sarah while she went to school in Louisiana. I think she could be of help considering she’d blend in with the younger crowd without us seeming suspicious,” Sam went into detail.
both Bucky and Zemo were confused on the entire situation but followed Sam’s lead regardless. they ended up in a small town a few hours out of where the plane touched down. your house was surrounded by a bunch of farm land and from the looks of it, you kept up with outside work. 
“with her knowledge in computers and being able to blend in with the crowd, she could gather information that neither three of us could get.” Zemo looked up to Sam, “I know Madripoor better than anyone. what gives you the implication that I can’t get the information myself?” he asked.
Sam waved him off as they got to your doorstep. your house looked cozy in comparison to how you lived before the blip. he knocked on the door softly, stepping back almost immediately. it took you a while to answer it but as they heard footsteps, they heard a ‘who is it?’ from the other side of the door. 
“it’s Sam.” 
you jumped back in surprise. you weren’t expecting to have Sam of all people knocking on your door at this hour. Sarah hadn’t told you that he was even going to come and see you. 
“Sam? James?” you asked, immediately playing with the skin on your fingers out of nervousness, “is something wrong? I wasn’t expecting you, nevertheless James here,” you continued as you let them inside. you looked at the third person, confused on who they were, “uh, may I ask who you are?” you questioned. 
“that’s Zemo but that isn’t important. we need you for something we’re working on,” you sighed in defeat. 
your life pre-blip was as normal as it could possibly be but after the blip, you lost your boyfriend at the time and your family dynamic had completely changed. you were no longer as close with your siblings, you were really never close with your dad to begin with, and your mom was just trying to fit back in as normally as possible without freaking out that something would happen to any of your siblings or yourself. 
“there’s a group of people who re-created the super soldier serum and we need help finding out who did it and why,” you immediately whipped your head up to look at Sam, “as in the thing that created Winter Soldier here and Steve?” you exclaimed, a sense of panic coming out as you spoke. 
Sam nodded, trying to calm you down before you could deny him all together, “since you still look kind of young and you were getting your degree in computer science, I was hoping you could come with us to Madripoor and scope out the scene while we talk to some people,” he explained. 
“Sam, I never even finished my degree. the blip happened before I could graduate and post blip, I haven’t touched a computer to that extent,” you replied. Bucky put his hand on your shoulder, “we really need you. you’re not someone who would catch attention easily and whatever you do remember could still help us in the long run,” he interjected. 
as Zemo watched both Bucky and Sam try to persuade you, he could tell you weren’t falling for it but now that he was standing in your kitchen, he could see the pictures of you and your family and probably some friends on your fridge door. 
“can I talk to her?” Zemo asked Bucky softly. Bucky gave him a look, almost as if what he said was disgraceful to hear, “why?” he asked back. Zemo pointed to the pictures on the fridge, “because I know how it is to lose family.” 
Bucky whispered to Sam about what Zemo had told him and while Sam wanted to refuse, while you were gone making coffee for them, Sam ultimately let him. “do not blow this for us. you’re on thin ice and if you screw us up, you’ll be back in that German prison cell before you could say your name,” Zemo put his hands up in defeat as he slowly walked into the kitchen. 
“need help with that coffee?” Zemo asked. you turned around, shaking your head no as you looked through the cabinets, “no, I’m okay. thanks for asking. I just need to find the coffee before meeting you three out there again,” you replied. 
Zemo reached into the pouch inside his jacket and pulled out a brown bag, “coffee from Germany. it’s the best you’ll get,” he said as you grabbed the bag and opened it up. the strong smell of coffee hit your nose as you coughed from it, “where did you get this?” you asked. 
Zemo laughed, shaking it off, “I’m a Baron, ( your name ). my family has a lot of things,” you nodded, not quite understanding what he meant by that but agreeing regardless, “listen, I know you’re hesitant on going with us to Madripoor but we really need your help. you’d be doing the world a favor by it,” he elaborated. 
you remained silent for a moment, “what has the world done for me? I lost my boyfriend, the guy I thought I was going to be with forever. my family and I don’t even talk to each other anymore so why should I help it out?” you responded, not caring if Sam or Bucky heard. Zemo put his hand on your cheek before sighing, “I lost my family in Sokovia. I know what that feels like more than anyone in the world and look at me now,” he replied. 
Sam and Bucky looked at each other nervously as they watched you try and contain your tears. they couldn’t exactly tell what Zemo was telling you but they could sense you were actually debating the idea now.
“did you ever move on? how did you move on is what I should be asking,” you asked quietly. Zemo stayed silent for a moment, not knowing whether he should answer genuinely or not, “being alone for as long as I was makes you come to terms with a lot of things,” he replied. 
you gulped, trying to push down whatever tears wanted to come out. 
“I think I’m over what happened pre-blip but I guess what’s stopping me from fully moving on is that we’ll never be the people we were before hand. what would I get out of helping all of you again?” you asked Zemo, now blushing at how close you were with him, “finding out where the serum is coming from and possibly having peace of mind,” he replied. 
you put the cups down and walked back into the living room, “you both owe me something. I don’t know what it is yet but you do,” you told Sam as he and Bucky sighed in relief, “give me a few minutes to gather my things,” you told them before heading upstairs. 
“what did you tell her?” Bucky asked as Zemo watched you walk upstairs with an almost mesmerized look, “nothing any of you would understand,” he responded before sitting down on the worn out couch. 
+
all of you touched down in Madripoor hours later. you had chugged back to melatonin gummies and passed out the entire flight back to Madripoor. you weren’t exactly a fan of planes so to be inside of one for hours made you extremely nervous. 
you were sent off to get some information while they went off in their own direction to get something else they needed. you were told to get back to them before dusk so after you got the bits of information they needed, you met them back at the car. 
“your name is now Noel, you’re a friend of ours and that’s all you need to know,” Zemo said as he handed you a fake id. you took it as Zemo relied Sam’s fake information to him, laughing at the nickname he was given, “high-town is beautiful,” you whispered to Zemo. he nodded in agreement, “indeed. we should visit it again,” he replied. 
as all of you arrived to the club/bar, you heard the music blaring from outside and figured this is what Sam meant when he said you’d blend in with the crowd. you sighed before plastering a smile on your face and dancing your way inside. 
“we should get some drinks,” Zemo told all of you. you nodded as you followed him to the bar. the small altercation between the bartender and Sam had you clenching your eyes shut as he cut up the snake, “please, that’s so disgusting,” you said, trying not to gag. 
Zemo could see the uncomfortable look on your face and unknowingly hid you behind him. he knew that small protective feeling from anywhere. the last time he had that feeling was with his wife. Zemo didn’t want you to see anything that made you mildly uncomfortable. 
within a few seconds, Zemo had shielded you immediately as an altercation brokeout with Bucky and a few others. you looked at Sam and Zemo in fright as Zemo made sure to keep you safe while Sam apologized for it. he knew you weren’t even mildly used to these kinds of scenes and if he was being honest, he knew in a way this could be traumatizing you. 
“Selby is ready to see you now,” you heard someone say. you followed behind Sam and Zemo as he had Bucky right next to him. as all of you walked inside the room, you could see the woman immediately look at Bucky and you a bit more interestingly. 
“you know you can’t just walk in here and demand to see me,” she said to Zemo. he nodded as Selby looked to Sam before giving him a backhanded compliment, “and can I ask who that is?” Selby asked as she pointed to you. 
you stood stiff as a board as Sam tried to speak up but was interrupted almost immediately by Zemo, “my wife,” he said, now more softly as he touched your had. Selby chuckled, “you wouldn’t want to make a trade for her, would you?” Selby asked. 
Sam immediately went on the defense as Zemo denied it, making sure you weren’t in her plane view anymore. Sam made sure that you were okay before returning back to the conversation at hand and within a few mere seconds, the once calm conversation turned deadly as Sam’s phone had went off and caused the domino affect to follow. Selby was now dead and all of your phones pinged off with money now on your heads for killing Selby.
“see! this why I didn’t want to do this!” you screamed to them as you chucked your heels to the side and slipping on your trusty Crocs that you had put inside of you bag, “now you’ve dragged me into things I have no idea about,” you continued to scream as you followed Zemo out the door. 
he could tell you were on the verge of a panic attack as all of you ran in separate directions. Sam had given you a gun to protect yourself with. you weren’t the one to use a gun for anything so to even be carrying it around terrified the shit out of you. 
you could tell that if you didn’t even cause a commotion to get the people to disperse, you’d be dead in a few minutes. you shot at the air, hoping no one got hurt in the process as everyone ducked for cover. you let out a shout as the bullets rang off into the air, making you drop the gun as soon as your rounds were finished. 
all of you landed in some alley as you stood up against the building, trying to catch your breaths in the process. Zemo immediately asked if you were okay and reassured you that you were no longer in harm. you were safe....for the moment; however, he knew that wouldn’t last as long as he’d hope as he knew that you were now apart of their vigilante group whether you wanted to be or not. 
after you met the infamous Sharon Carter, she had brought all of you to her place. she could sense that you did not belong in the group as she noticed how panicked you were by the entire situation. you hadn’t said a word after introducing yourself to her and frankly, she was concerned for you. 
“I have clothes upstairs you could change into. I get the feeling you aren’t in the mood to party so you could stay on the second level until it ends.” 
you thanked her, grabbing your bag and walking up the stairs. you landed inside of a room as the clothes were inside of the closet. you quickly slipped on the athleisure wear and sat on the bed, trying to calm yourself down from the previous events. 
“you okay?” you heard Zemo say from the door. you didn’t respond as you remained looking at your shaky hands, “hey,” he whispered, bending down on one knee looking at you. 
“do I look okay?” you replied a bit hastily, “I have money on my head for something I didn’t even do. I’m a criminal now, Zemo. I had no intentions of ever becoming what I am now. I just don’t understand why any of you would do this to someone who was still recovering from the blip!” you exclaimed as tears ran down your face. 
Zemo sighed, seeing the look of hurt, distrust, and panic all over your face. he had no idea you’d be this upset with the entire situation but seeing as you looked at the text that had your face with the wanted sign over it, he could tell you were realizing the severity of the situation. 
“what do I even tell my mom? my siblings?” you asked, “they have no idea of any of this and now I’m some criminal with a target over my head.” Zemo grabbed your hand and rubbed it softly with his thumb, “I know and after all of this is over, you’ll be free to do whatever you want. you just have to stick through this. we need you here,” he replied. 
you growled, “and what do I get out of it? trauma? therapy again?” you retorted. Zemo shook his head as you unknowingly slipped to his side and cried to his shoulder, “possibly but at least you’ll have people by your side this time. I’ll make sure you’ll never have to be by yourself again,” he said. 
you looked at him through tear stained eyes and nodded as he brought you in for an embrace. you were comforted by the cologne he was wearing as he sang softly in your ear. it sounded like some lullaby you would’ve heard as a kid. 
“promise?” you asked him. Zemo nodded, bending down to give you a kiss. you quickly reciprocated the kiss and had Zemo hold you close as the two of you remained kissing each other, “promise,” he murmured against your lips. 
from the crack of the door, Sam and Bucky wanted to interrupt you in order to kill Zemo for even thinking of kissing you but from down the hall, Sharon warned that it wasn’t any of their business to do such a thing.
Sam knew that he had all the consequences falling on him if something happened to you and being that you were now a wanted woman for the killing of Selby, the very least he could do is let you have this with Zemo. he might’ve hated his guts like it was nobodies business but for the time being, you were calm and not trying to kill him or Bucky. 
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heartcal · 3 years
Text
“who do you believe?”; l.h.
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Disclaimer: i didn’t want to write sierra as a bad person because i personally cannot see that, and i know there’s some discourse about her within in the fandom but i don’t want any of that here! so i named the girlfriend after a girl who bullied me in elementary school lol (but another disclaimer: i do not want to see any hate towards the boys’ s/o! pls don’t send any asks that talks bad about them, i will not answer them!)
thank you for requesting! :^)
a/n: while transfering this from microsoft word, the formatting kept screwing up for some reason so if there are some janky paragraphs, i apologize! not too comfortable with this one compared to my previous fic (this feels rushed) but it is long and i did not mean for that to happen lol. enjoy!
if there are any mistakes, please tell me!
pairing(s): not really a mention of luke hemmings x reader but it’s mostly luke hemmings x named gf (rachel/oc) (gender neutral but if i slipped up, please let me know!)
summary: having known luke for years, it was bound to happen eventually. the crush you developed happened before you could stop it, and you did your best to keep it a secret. you told no one, did your best not to show it, so what do you do when his girlfriend finds out?
genre: angst, and mostly angst >:^)
warnings: swearing, luke’s gf being mean, bullying?
wc: 4,057 (she’s a long one)
my masterlist!
You don’t know when it happened, or frankly how it happened, but one thing is for sure: you don’t want to feel this way.
Was it when he bought you a stuffed animal version of a pet you had as a kid, one that you remember so fondly and still tear up about it to this day? Or was it when he would always bring back a certain candy you can only find in its country of origin, and bring as much as customs would allow? Maybe it was when he printed out every photo he could find from the beginning of your friendship to the present day (at that time) and made a scrapbook for your birthday since you cherish memories?
Whatever memory it was, you want to track it down and destroy it. It wasn’t fair that you developed such strong feelings for your best friend, knowing he doesn’t feel the same since he’s taken.
It’s not that he isn’t attractive – far from that because if anything, you wish you could draw just so you can draw him because there’s no way someone can look that good – but it’s more of the fact that he’s your best friend, someone you hold dear to you.
You two grew up together; saw each other’s worst phases, styles, and embarrassing moments (it was well documented towards the middle of the scrapbook). He was with you when you went through bad break-ups, and you with him. Throughout school, you two were inseparable, and when the band got big he made sure to keep you close and to never lose contact. It was hard in the beginning but you two managed.
Now finished with college, you’ve taken on the role of working with the team when they’re on tour and helping plan aesthetics for the next album. He offered the jobs after you struggled to find a job after graduation, and in the end, you enjoyed being with the guys and doing the tasks needed.
Tonight, the band was set to play their new album to an intimate crowd. It was to welcome back old fans and welcome new fans, introducing both sides to a new sound they worked hard on. You couldn’t be any more proud.
You sat on the couch as the guys walked around the room, pepping themselves up and hyping each other. You had finished doing your tasks with the crew and spent your free time watching the band prepare as the audience began to fill in the theater seats.
A nudge on your arm makes you direct your eyes from Michael styling his hair with a nervous expression to the person on your left.
“What’s up?” you asked, smiling at the curly-haired individual.
Luke shrugs, glancing around the room before his eyes land back on you. He has a small smile on his face as he leans back onto the couch, “Nothing.”
You scoff, shaking your head with a smile, “Yeah, sure, ‘nothing,’” you mimic, tilting your head to the side, “I doubt that.”
“What do you want me to say?”
You give him an incredulous look, crossing your arms as you turn to face him. You can tell he’s nervous, like the rest of the team and the band, but he won’t admit it. He’s always wanted others to view him as strong and unbothered, especially when those around him feel off.
He mirrors your position, a smirk on his lips because he knows you’re about to lecture him.
And he’s right.
“Your band has a new album out in a couple of days—an album you guys have worked hard on even when your management gave you shit, mind you—and you’re about to perform a majority of the songs in front of 500. Are you not nervous?”
He shakes his head, smugly smiling as he returns to his position leaning against the couch, watching Ashton dry the wet ends of his hair.
“Liar,” you mumble, uncrossing your arms and taking your phone out to check the time.
“Alright,” Luke sighs, giving in, “maybe I’m a little nervous, but I’m not a wreck.”
He’s still a liar. The success of their last album was astounding, so creating an album to reach that level and hopefully top it was hard enough. Playing it in front of an intimate crowd who may or may not like it was tough.
Luke isn’t cocky. He’s a humble man, but he likes to joke around in stressful situations. He’s used to concerts, so he doesn’t have any anxiety when it comes to performing. But when he is nervous for any reason, he won’t show it. He’ll act cool, completely collected with his head held high in confidence. If he needs to relieve the stress, he’ll either do it himself with a strong pep talk, or he’ll go to you.
“What are you nervous about?” You ask, wanting to make him feel better.
“Will they like it? Will it even chart? Is it too bold?” he continues listing out his insecurities about the album and the performance, finally lifting everything off his chest.
And you listen. The way his eyes stare into yours with slight confidence, covered by worry makes your heart sore. Luke’s kept everything inside and now that he’s listing his grievances, it makes you wonder just what else you can get out of him that he’s kept buried inside.
However, before you can give him your insight on this particular problem, “Luke!”
His head immediately turns to the door, the worry in his eyes fading out into sheer happiness and adoration. Something you’ve always wanted to see directed towards you.
Luke stands arms wide as he captures his girlfriend in his arms for a hug. Her arms wrap around his waist as his arms go around her shoulders, dipping his head down to kiss her on the head.
“I can’t believe you made it!” you hear him speak with excitement, expressing more words of happiness as he guides her to another part of the room.
You don’t miss the way her eyes glare in your direction, and you’re not afraid to give her a look back.
Rachel was nice when you met her. You actually liked her, despite your crush on Luke, and you were rooting for the two. But, a couple months ago during a stressful week, she turned on you. Her attitude towards you shifted, almost as if you had disrespected her and her bloodline. She would always act as if you weren’t in the room, and when plans were made with the boys, she would “accidentally” leave you out. It was embarrassing for you when you’d find out your friends went out, calling you to find out why you didn’t come. Due to the embarrassment, you would go along with it, making up some excuse as to why you were absent.
None of the boys, to your knowledge at least, have caught on to her antics, and you honestly hope they don’t. Whatever it is you did to her, you want to find out for yourself so you can fix it.
With a sigh, you stand from the couch, stretching your arms briefly before wandering to Calum, who stood in the shower room connected to the dressing room.
“Hey,” you greeted him with a warm smile.
He smiles back, finishing his drink before tossing the plastic cup in the trash. He grabs his bass, which was placed on the counter, and holds it out to you.
“You want me to see if it sounds out of tune?” you jokingly ask.
He nods, “Yeah, I feel like one of the chords might be flat.”
You chuckle as you pluck a random chord. His instruments are always tuned before it’s time to play. One of his pre-show nervous ticks was the constant doubt of his instruments being playable.
“It’s fine, Calum.”
The doubt shows on his face as he brings his guitar back to himself, putting it on and checking the chords himself, but it doesn’t last long as Ashton’s voice calls everyone to the center of the room.
Walking with Calum to where the rest of the crew was, you notice how attached Luke was to Rachel. Joint at the hip, arms wrapped around each other; it was annoying.
“Show starts in ten,” Ashton gains your attention, holding up a cup as Michael hands Calum a similar cup before doing the same to Luke. The three follow the drummer’s action as he continues, “let’s make this show fuckin’ awesome.”
The crew cheers, dying down quickly as Michael gives his thoughts, “We worked our asses off for this album, I don’t have any doubts about it. We got this, guys!”
The cheers resume as those with a drink take a celebratory sip before placing their empty cup on a surface near them.
Calum leaves your side to join Michael while Ashton heads to you.
“You excited?” he asks, putting his right arm around your shoulders with a large smile.
“Yeah!” you return the smile, “What about you? Nervous like the others?”
He shakes his head, crinkling his nose, “I’m not too nervous. I’m just happy to play again.”
You’re about to ask him what song he was the most excited to play, starting to get into the conversation but yet again you are interrupted by Rachel.
“Hey, Ash,” she greets him, Luke following close behind her as his arms make their way back around her shoulders again.
“Hi, Rachel,” Ashton nods his head at her – his eyes dance to Luke briefly before returning to Rachel’s, “didn’t think you’d make it.”
“Couldn’t miss your big show,” she smiles, looking up at her boyfriend as she pats his stomach.
Luke laughs, gently pushing her hand away from him, “I’m surprised, too—“ he grabs the guitar a crew member hands him, left arm lifting itself from Rachel’s shoulder as he slips the strap over his head, “—because her schedule did not look clear enough, but here she is.”
“Three minutes,” a different crew member rushes out, patting Luke and Ashton’s shoulders before rushing to tell the others.
“See you after,” Luke shifts his guitar away from Rachel before leaning down to kiss her on the lips – something you wish you didn’t see – and turning around to head out of the dressing room.
Ashton gives you a quick hug, “Excited for the lights,” he mumbles in your ear before turning to Rachel to give her a side hug.
It doesn’t go unnoticed how Rachel’s eyes glared at you by Ashton, but he doesn’t mention it as he heads out with the other guys towards the stage.
As a majority of the crew follow them out, you stay behind to clean up the empty cups and other trash, trying to occupy yourself as Rachel too stayed behind.
Her eyes followed you as you moved about the room, carrying the small plastic bag with you as it fills up with cups and wrappers. You could feel the glare burning into your side and back as you paid her no mind.
When it was just you two left, the bass from their opening song was heard and felt as you finished picking up the garbage.
“For how long have you liked Luke?”
You froze. Your head whipped towards Rachel, wide-eyed as you glanced around the room to make sure it was just the two of you.
“What…what are you talking about?” You can feel an extreme warmth rising up from the bottom of your back, all the way to your face, nervousness clouding your brain as she stares you down.
“Luke—,” she crosses her arms and moves to the couch, “how long have you liked Luke?”
“I don’t—I,” you stutter, your stomach dropping as you realize you’ve been caught.
His girlfriend knows you like him.
“Cut the bullshit,” she spits, “I can see it. You’ve been friends with him for years, you obviously caught feelings for him.”
You shake your head, standing up straight to give off the illusion of confidence. Turning your back to her and towards the door, “I don’t have to talk to you.”
You opted for walking out of the dressing room and go watch the band from the side of the stage, but you made a quick stop in the bathroom to splash cold water on your face.
You did what you could to avoid her during their performance. You knew she was watching you, seething at how you ended the conversation so fast.
Rachel wanted to break you down, find the reason why you like him and separate you two for as long as it takes to make him fall in love with her. She finds you a problem in their relationship because of how close you and Luke are, because of how long you’ve known each other. A threat to her and her relationship.
An hour and a half later, the show is finished and the whoops and cheers from the crowd indicate the album was very well received. That thought swept the interaction with Rachel from earlier under the rug as the boys’ adrenaline spread throughout the crew.
Ashton was first to greet you, sweaty and ready to envelop you in a hug but you’re quick to avoid it, ducking down just as his arms closed around the space where your head was. He laughs it off, heading for his next victim.
Next was Calum, who grabbed a drink from Andy and gulped it down. He had a smile on his face after, only growing wider when he saw you. “I think they liked it!”
“Bass in tune, huh?” you return, patting his back as he passes you to go to the next person.
Michael is the third, taking off his hat (which made you question why he was so worried about his hairstyle that he spent at least fifteen minutes playing with before the show). He stops in front of you, phone in hand as he takes a picture of the two of you: a tradition he started a few tours ago as a joke.
Finally, Luke makes his way towards you, ready to ramble about the show but is brisked away by Rachel. He doesn’t even glance over at you after he’s taken away towards the hall.
Entering the dressing room where the rest of the boys sat, you saw Michael talking animatedly on the phone, Calum laying across the couch with an arm over his eyes, and Ashton wiping off excess sweat with a towel. He was the first one to notice you.
“Ready for that hug?” he asks as you approach him.
“Why not.”
You hug each other, smiling as you pulled away. In the distance, over the cool-down music, you hear Luke’s laughter in the hall. Knowing he’s with Rachel makes you wonder if she’s told him about her suspicions, and that thought alone makes you clam up all over again.
Ashton immediately notices, tilting his head as he asks you what’s wrong.
“Nothing,” you quickly reply, eyes focusing on him.
He notices how jittery you seem, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he says nothing.
“Guys,” Andy comes in with his camera in hand, “we need to take a few photos.”
The three agree and follow the photographer out. You move to the snack table for a bottle of water, but before you can take a sip, someone clears their throat in the doorway.
You roll your eyes immediately because you know who it is. You don’t pay her any attention and instead take the sip of water you need.
“We need to finish that conversation you oh-so rudely ended,” Rachel moves into the room, keeping her voice down as she crosses her arms.
“We don’t need to finish anything.”
She scoffs, “I asked you a question, and you were so quick to avoid it. I think you’re proving a point.”
“What point?” you turn to look at her, “I know you don’t like me but I don’t know why, can we start with that?”
“Like I said before, I know you like Luke. He’s my boyfriend, and I don’t like how he’s close to you.”
“We grew up together,” you state, standing tall as you glare at her, “of course we’re going to be close.”
“Well I don’t like it,” she huffs.
You shake your head with a sigh, closing the lid to the bottle as you turn your back to her. You were getting angry at the fact that someone who didn’t know Luke as long as you did was hinting that you should stay away from him.
“Stop hanging out with him.”
A curt laugh escapes you before you can stop it, “Are you jealous of our friendship?”
“No,” she smirks, “but I know you’re jealous of our relationship.”
She’s right; you’re only a little jealous of their relationship, but it’s not something you want to risk your friendship with.
You open your mouth to defend yourself, but you’re caught off-guard when nothing comes out. The one opportunity to make her believe you don’t like her boyfriend and you can’t say anything.
Giving up with sinking shoulders, you glance at the door before looking back at her. Grimacing at her knowing smile, “How did you find out?”
She hums, “It was easy. I love him, so I know what it looks like to look at someone you love. You made it so obvious, I’m surprised no one else found out!”
You grit your teeth. You did your damn best to make sure no one, especially Luke or Rachel, know how you feel about him.
“I’m not intimidated by you,” she walks closer to you, arms uncrossing as her hands move to her hips, “but I won’t deny the fact that you and Luke have chemistry.”
“What will it take—” you place the bottle back on the table, “—for you to leave me alone?”
“Do the same to him.”
“What?”
“Leave him alone, unfriend him,” she shrugs, “simple as that.”
“That’s ridiculous,” you walk around her to the door, ready to end the conversation.
“Do that or I’ll tell him,” with a harsh tone she walks towards you, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Okay,” another voice from the doorway makes the two of you jump, “that’s enough.”
Ashton walks into the room, grabbing Rachel’s hand and removing it from your arm.
“W—” she stutters out as she watches the tall man move to stand in front of you.
“I came back for my drumsticks—” his eyes shift to the object sticking out of his bag before dropping down to Rachel, “—but instead I find you, what, threatening a good friend of ours?”
Rachel is speechless while you’re frozen. It was embarrassing enough for one person to find out about your crush on Luke, but now Ashton might know and you want to go into hiding.
“Let it go,” you tug on Ashton’s shirt to get his attention but he doesn’t move.
“Telling someone who’s known your boyfriend longer than your relationship to just abandon him is low, Rachel. Don’t think the way you’ve been treating our friends has gone unnoticed.”
You hear more footsteps approaching the room, and now you wish the ground can swallow you up. You don’t want all this attention on you.
“What’s happening here?” Michael says as he peeks into the room, Luke behind him as Calum leans against the other side of the doorway.
“Nothing—,” Rachel tries to deflect but with four pairs of eyes on her, it becomes too much. Tears start pouring out, and you’re in disbelief.
How can she be the one crying after she was the one who was rude to you?
Luke immediately rushes in, creating a beeline right to her side to wrap her in his arms.
His eyes dart to yours, an emotion on his face of something you’ve never seen, but you know it’s not good.
“What did you do?”
You’re taken back by his tone and the way his angry eyes stare you down. It hurts because instead of staying neutral and finding out what exactly happened, he immediately chose a side: a side of someone he’s known for only for a short amount of time.
“Mate,” Ashton speaks up for you, “I think you’re asking the wrong person that.”
“No,” Luke’s voice raises, eyes moving from yours to stare into his band mate’s, “I’m asking the right person.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes welling with tears as the weight of everything happening within the last ten minutes starts to bring you down. Your eyes move away from the ones boring into yours, and with a tremble in your voice, “I didn’t do anything. She’s the one who started—.”
“Bullshit!” Luke’s roar cuts you off, “Absolute bullshit, because if she started it, then why is she the only one crying?!”
The two other guys move in to the room to mediate the situation.
“Luke, calm down,” Michael’s hands raise to the motion of ‘calm down’ as he tries to get Luke’s attention.
“There’s gotta be more to the story,” Calum moves to your side, checking on you briefly.
“Don’t,” Luke states as he watches Calum grab your shoulders to move you out of the room.
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Ashton questions. He watches Luke soothingly rub Rachel’s back, wiping her tears with his free hand.
“My girlfriend is crying and you two were the only ones in here,” Luke replies, gently grabbing Rachel’s arms so he can look directly into her eyes, “what happened, babe?”
“I asked them—,” Rachel sniffles, continuing her façade, “—if they needed any help cleaning the room earlier and they yelled at—at me and told me to go away. Then after the show when you guys went for your photos, I came here to apologize to her, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.”
She was selling it; the tears, the sniffling, the stutters, and hiccups. A great actress who knows what she wants.
“That’s not true,” you inhale, your ears feeling warm and ringing, “she has had a problem with me lately and I don’t know why!”
Luke scoffs, shaking his head, wrapping Rachel in his arms again.
“C’mon,” Michael mumbles, wanting to leave the room.
Ashton turns around, watching your face go from pleading to blank as the tears fall from your eyes. He turns his head to face Luke, “You’re unbelievable,” he grabs your shoulders and starts to move you out of the room, “let’s go.”
Michael is already out of the room, the tension too much for him and ruining the after-show vibe. Calum is waiting by the door ready to help lead you out. Ashton has you turned around, pushing you towards the door.
“Wait, Luke,” you mumble, getting out of Ashton’s hold and turning back to face Luke.
He doesn’t look at you, sighing as he rubs Rachel’s head as it’s against his chest.
“Please,” you plead, begging him to look at you and when he does, you ask, “who do you believe?”
“What?”
“Who do you believe, Luke,” you gulp with a sniffle, “me or her?”
For a moment, you think you see hesitation. His jaw tenses as he stares you down, his best friend for years and someone he turned to when times got tough. He then looks down at the girl in his arms, someone he loves crying into his chest.
He sighs again, this time soft, before looking up to meet your eyes. He does notice the tears, the pain etched on your face as his other best friends watch them. “I believe Rachel.”
“This is fucking stupid,” Ashton mutters as he gently grabs your shoulders again to lead you out of the room.
You let the tears fall freely, not meeting any of the boys’ eyes as you kept your head face down.
You’ve lost your best friend. He chose someone else over you, a lie he chose to believe.
Whatever it was that made you catch feelings for your best friend, you wish you can find it and destroy it, along with any other memory you’ve made with him. After tonight, you want him erased from your cherished memories.
---
part two!
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