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Steve & Robin Bodyswap AU

I'm probably never going to finish this fic because I struggle with follow-through on long fics, but I enjoy this section so I thought I'd post it. At this point, it's September 1986 and Steve and Robin have been body-swapping for about a month (they can't control when it happens). Trigger warnings for homophobia and use of the word queer as a slur.

When the dizzy feeling passed, Robin was in Steve’s body, looking into his bathroom mirror. She was almost naked, only a towel around her waist, and it looked like Steve had been halfway through his hair routine. Robin sighed and picked up Steve’s hairspray and a comb, trying to finish creating Steve’s famous hairstyle. It was harder than Steve made it look, and when she finished it looked a little off-center somehow, like it had melted a little to the side. Was his hair longer than before? Whatever. This was as good as she could get it, so Steve would have to live with it.

The phone rang as Robin returned to the bedroom.

“Hello?” Robin answered.

“Hey,” Steve said. “Do you remember where you’re going tonight?”

“No,” Robin said. “I was planning on doing my English paper and then repainting my nails. I didn’t think we’d switch so late in the day.”

Steve sighed. “Me neither. That’s why I scheduled a date.”

“A date!” Robin shrieked.

She couldn’t go on a date. With a girl. As Steve Harrington.

“Yeah,” Steve said, sounding guilty. “Listen. Her name is Jenny and you’re supposed to pick her up at seven. Her address is written on a post-it on the kitchen table.”

“Steve,” Robin said. “I can’t go on this date.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Because I’m not you! Because she wants to go on a date with Mr. Cool and not some band nerd who rambles when she’s nervous, like, I don’t know, when she’s in front of a pretty girl. I can’t go on my first date with a girl in your body! And I can’t drive! I’ll crash the car and kill us both.”

“You’re not so bad anymore,” Steve said. “At worst, you’ll get into a fender-bender.”

“And what about all the other reasons this is a terrible idea?” Robin demanded.

“Do you actually mind?” Steve asked, voice small. “Going on your first date with a girl in my body?”

She knew if she said yes, he would let her cancel. But there was something vulnerable in his voice and that made her stop and think.

Did she mind? For the past three years, Robin had been dreaming of going on a date with a girl. She’d imagined what it would be like to hold a door open for a girl, to hold hands under the table, to giggle at her jokes and maybe even get a kiss at the end of the night. And she’d imagined doing all that in her own body, with someone who was into her.

Part of her wanted that. Part of her was holding onto that dream of an ideal first date, the way some girls dreamed of a perfect first time.

But also, Robin had never gone on a date with a girl because she lived in Hawkins. She probably wouldn’t get to go on a date until after she graduated and moved away. Maybe this was her chance to go on a date with a girl. It might not fully count, but it would still be her on the date. Her and this girl. It could at least be good practice for her real first date.

“I don’t mind,” Robin said. “But Steve, I’m going to ruin this.”

“You’re not going to ruin anything,” Steve said. “Just be yourself. Or, well, maybe not yourself, cause you’re supposed to be me. But you’ll be fine!”

Robin groaned. “Steeeeve.”

“It’ll be fine!”

“You won’t be mad at me if I totally tank your date, right?”

“No,” Steve said. “You’re going on a date for me. That’s like, really nice, even if it goes wrong. No one’s ever done that for me before.”

Robin snorted. “Well I would hope not, Dingus. If you’d been bodyswapping with someone else and you hadn’t brought it up by now, I’d be pissed.”

Steve laughed. “Nah, no other bodyswappers. I still think it was the Russian drugs.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t the drugs!”

“It totally was!”

Robin eyed the clock on Steve’s bedside table. “I have to go if I’m going to make it to your date on time.” Especially if she drove at Robin-speed to pick the girl up.

“Okay,” Steve said. “Remember, her name is Jenny and her address is on the kitchen table. I’ll start the rough draft of your essay and then you can fix it tomorrow.”

Robin winced. Steve seemed to be enjoying school more now that he was in her body and his dyslexia didn’t get in the way, but he was still a terrible essay writer. There probably wouldn’t be much usable material in whatever he wrote, but she appreciated that he was trying to take the burden of half her schoolwork.

“Thanks,” she said. “Maybe just do an outline?”

Steve paused for a moment. When he spoke again, there was something off about his voice. “Yeah, okay.”

Robin wanted to push, but she really didn’t have time and her stomach was already starting to churn with nerves at the idea of going on a date. She said her goodbyes and hung up the phone before going to Steve’s closet. She didn’t know how to dress for a date, especially as a boy, but presumably Jenny wanted to go out with Steve, so Robin pulled out jeans and a polo. She winced as she looked in the mirror, King Steve staring back. Swoopy hair, pretentious polo, and handsome face – all looking horribly out of place with Robin in his body, shoulders slumping in uncomfortably.

Robin looked away.

She found the post-in on the kitchen and Steve’s keys on the hook by the front door before sliding nervously behind the wheel of Steve’s car. She took a deep breath and slid the key into the ignition, backing painfully slowly out of the driveway. Her nerves increased as she drove, building like a knot in her stomach. It was so odd how Steve’s body handled nervousness. In her own body, Robin would be bouncing, or pacing, or flapping her hands, anything to expel this nervous energy. When Robin was anxious, she needed to move, to babble, to get it all out.

Steve’s body held onto anxiety, using it to twist his insides tighter and tighter. His shoulders ached from the tension he held and his heart started pounding and the idea of moving didn’t feel helpful, not to the body Robin was in.

But she wanted to move, and the mixed signals just added to the confused anxiety in her body.

When she arrived at Jenny’s house, she had to knock at the door. Luckily, a girl opened it, dressed nicely and looking the right age to be Steve’s date.

This was confirmed when the girl smiled and said, “Hi, Steve.”

“Hi,” Robin said. Way to go Steve! Jenny was pretty, long blonde curls and big blue eyes. She was wearing a sundress with a square neckline that drew attention to the line of her collarbones, and a short skirt that revealed long, smooth legs, tan from the summer sun. Her hands, fiddling with the hem of her dress, were decorated by thin gold rings on each finger.

“Like what you see?”

Robin flinched before she registered Jenny’s teasing tone.

Jenny was flirting. She thought she was being eyed by Steve Harrington and she liked it, so she was teasing him for staring.

But it wasn’t Steve. It was Robin, admiring a pretty girl. Robin, who lived in fear of being caught staring and being chased out of town by an angry mob with pitchforks and crosses and Save the Children posters.

Robin managed a shaky smile for Jenny. “You look really pretty.”

Jenny looked pleased. She called a goodbye into the house and followed Robin to the car. Robin took a deep breath as she slid behind the wheel again.

“How was your day?” Jenny asked.

“Good,” Robin said. She’d gone to work this morning as Steve, then finished the afternoon at school as herself. She’d gone to band practice, where they had started a new song. But that wasn’t what Steve had done with his day. Or, well, it wouldn’t have been if they weren’t swapping bodies. Steve had graduated. “I had work.”

“What made you want to work at Family Video?” Jenny asked.

Robin couldn’t answer for a moment, focused on making a left turn. Then there was a pothole to swerve and a stop sign to navigate. By the time Robin thought of Jenny’s question again, the silence was awkward and heavy.

“Uh, movies?” Robin said. “Yeah, I, uh, like movies. Big movie fan.”

She wished she could see Jenny’s expression, but Robin had to watch the road.

“Okay,” Jenny said slowly, sounding skeptical. “What movies do you like?”

“Grease,” Robin said, naming one of Steve’s favorites. “

“Oh I love Grease!” Jenny said. “It’s so romantic, isn’t it?”

Robin hated Grease. She thought it was patriarchal and ridiculous and taught women that they should change to win the love of men who treated them badly. Sure, Sandy looked hot at the end, but it came at the cost of her personality and autonomy and self-expression. Robin hated the idea that a girl was supposed to conform to what a guy wanted of her. Why couldn’t Danny be the one to change?

“Yeah, it’s romantic,” Robin said.

They hit a curb as she took a turn and Jenny let out a little yelp. Robin refocused on the road.

“Sorry,” she said. “I, uh, ran out of contacts? And lost my glasses? I don’t think I can talk and drive right now.”

“Oh,” Jenny said, sounding nervous and unimpressed. That was fair. Robin wouldn’t like it if the guy driving her around said he couldn’t see shit. “Yeah, sure.”

They drove in silence until they got to the diner.

[Jenny asks about basketball and robin fumbles her way through answers]

[They kiss goodnight on Jenny’s doorstep]

As soon as Jenny entered her house, Robin felt her face crumple. She retreated to the car and drove back to Steve’s house, shaking a little. She wanted to cry, but Steve’s body wouldn’t. There was a lump in her throat and an ache in her chest, but her eyes were dry.

She hated this. She hated that the date had gone so badly. She hated that her first kiss had been stolen. That it hadn’t been her Jenny had wanted to kiss and it hadn’t been her lips that had been kissed. She hated that Steve had sent her on this date. She hated that she’d agreed. She hated Steve’s stupid body, which wasn’t hers and was foreign and masculine and wouldn’t even fucking cry when she wanted it to.

Robin parked and stormed into Steve’s house. She slammed the door behind her, which felt good, so she did it a few more times. Slam. Slam. Slam. When she felt out of breath, she collapsed against the entryway wall.

Steve’s reflection stared back at her from the mirror above the key hooks.

She couldn’t take it. She ran up the stairs, bypassing Steve’s bedroom and entering his parents’ room. She’d never been in here before because Steve acted like it was forbidden, but she didn’t care right now. She found Mrs. Harrington’s vanity and started ripping the drawers open, upending makeup and hair supplies until she found several bottles of nail polish.

They were all boring pinks and reds, exactly what a housewife would wear, but Robin grabbed the darkest red and took it downstairs. She grabbed a David Bowie record and blasted it, propping her hands on her thighs and starting to paint her nails. Her hands were shaking, but she stubbornly pushed through, trying to paint a neat maroon coat onto Steve’s nails.

She stopped and stared after she finished the first hand.

It was Steve’s hand still, broad and square-fingered, but it felt better with the nail polish. A bit more feminine.

Robin had spent so long in her own body trying to express herself without femininity. She didn’t like dresses or skirts or long hair. Her makeup was smudgy and her jewelry chunky and she liked to look good but not in a girly-girl way.

In Steve’s body though, she felt like she had to compensate for its masculinity. She was still a girl, even if she wasn’t a girly one, and seeing a man staring back at her in the mirror was uncomfortable. She wanted to put Steve’s body in a dress and grow out his hair and do his makeup. But that all felt like a violation of Steve’s will for what he wanted to do with his body. She was just a guest here – she couldn’t change anything he couldn’t quickly change back. Even if she spent a solid half of her waking hours in this body.

Steve’s hand looked good in maroon nail polish. It felt a bit more like hers.

***

Steve woke up in his own body, which was rare these days.

He was in his bed and he had a headache, which wasn’t that unusual. But it wasn’t a spike of pain in his skull, no oncoming migraine. This felt like a headache from crying.

Steve went to the bathroom mirror and squinted at his reflection. Maybe Robin had a point and Steve should get glasses. His bad eyesight was much more noticeable and annoying when he spent half his time looking at the world through Robin’s 20/20 eyes.

With just a little squinting though, Steve found that he was right; his eyes were red. Robin had been crying.

Steve’s heart sank. He’d thought Robin would call after the date yesterday, but he hadn’t heard from her. He hadn’t heard from her, and she had cried herself to sleep. What had happened?

He’d been kind of happy when Robin hadn’t called, which he felt bad about. But she hadn’t wanted him to write a draft of her paper, just an outline. It was stupid to be upset about that. But for the first time in his life, Steve was following what was happening in Robin’s English and history classes. They were way more interesting when he could read without getting frustrated, and he’d wanted to write the paper to help Robin but also to see what he could do when he actually understood the book.

But Robin didn’t think he was smart enough to write her essay.

Which was fine, obviously, Steve knew that Robin was way smarter than him. He shouldn’t be upset just because Robin knew that too.

It was fine. The problem was that something had made Robin cry.

He was picking her up for school, so he would ask on the drive.

Steve started getting ready, brushing his teeth and doing his hair. There was too much hairspray in it, the way there usually was when Robin had been the last one to style it, so he brushed it through a bit extra to try to get some of the stiffness out.

There was also nail polish on his fingers.

Steve stopped for a long moment to stare. The nail polish was pretty, a dark red color and super smooth. Steve had tried to paint Robin’s nails last night and he’d done a much worse job, getting nail polish all over her skin and accidentally making it lumpy and full of bubbles.

But on Steve’s hands, the polish was neat and smooth and elegant. Steve had never had his nails painted before, but it was pretty. He liked it.

Maybe Steve shouldn’t have painted Robin’s nails. He’d been under the impression that Robin hated the process of painting her nails – always complaining about having to sit still while they dried. But if she liked it enough to do it in Steve’s body, maybe he should have let her paint her own.

Steve grabbed his work vest and a granola bar and drove to Robin’s house. She came out the door in a hurry, jacket half-on, shouting something back at her parents. But she was quiet as she got in the car. She barely said hello before busying herself looking through Steve’s tapes.

Steve frowned. “Robin? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “I’m fine. Just tired, you know?”

Steve had gone to bed early last night, which meant Robin’s body shouldn’t be tired. He didn’t say that.

“How did the date go?”

Robin froze, only for a second, but it was noticeable given how she was always in motion. “It was okay. She said you should call her.”

“That sounds pretty good,” Steve said tentatively.

“Yeah,” Robin said. She put in a tape and turned the volume up.

Dread started to grow in Steve’s stomach. He waited until he’d pulled into Dustin’s driveway and honked to turn down the music. Dustin always took a minute to come out.

“Did I overstep?” Steve asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” Robin asked. She was fiddling with her bracelets, and Steve suddenly realized she hadn’t even looked at him since getting in the car.

“When I asked you to go on the date for me. Was that too much?”

Robin still didn’t look at him. “Steve-”

“Hey!” Dustin said loudly, climbing into the backseat. “You won’t believe what happened in our campaign last night. So we were in this forest, right, and then Eddie had this really suspicious looking dwarf show up-”

Dustin kept babbling about his campaign all the way to the school and Steve tried to react in the appropriate places. He had no idea what was happening in the story because Dustin used way too many words that Steve was pretty sure didn’t exist. But he’d already hurt Robin somehow; he didn’t want to hurt Dustin as well.

Steve dropped them both at school — Robin leaving with a little “bye” and Dustin still rambling on his way out of the car — and went to work. He was the only one working until Robin got on in the afternoon, so it was pretty boring. A few housewives came in, but mostly Steve rewound and reshelved tapes. He contemplated actually cleaning, but decided he wasn’t bored enough to do that and ended up tapping his fingers idly on the counter as he half-paid attention to the children’s movie that was playing on the tv.

Today, of all days, Steve didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts.

What had gone so wrong? He’d asked Robin if she was okay with going on the date and she had said yes. But she hadn’t called and she couldn’t even look at him this morning. That had never happened before. They had bickered back when they’d been getting to know each other at Scoops Ahoy, but they’d never had a real fight.

All Steve could think of was Nancy. Nancy, pulling away because Steve couldn’t be what she needed. Nancy, who Steve had hurt without even realizing it. Nancy, who Steve had loved and who he had lost because he was bullshit.

He couldn’t be bullshit with Robin. He’d thought he was safe from ruining this because they were friends and they’d felt mind-melded even before the body swapping had started.

But Steve had clearly done something wrong. He had to figure out what it was and fix it before he lost Robin.

A man came in, dressed in a suit, clearly on his lunch break. Steve tracked him as he wandered the shelves, but the man didn’t seem to need any help, quickly finding a movie and bringing it up to the counter.

It was [romance movie].

“It’s for my wife,” the man said, as if he thought Steve was judging him.

“That’s romantic,” Steve said. “Can I get your name?”

“Johnny Richards,” the man said. “My wife’s upset I had to work late the past month. It’s not my fault! I work for the mayor’s office and we’re still dealing with the fallout of that fucking mall fire.”

Steve’s customer service smile turned even more frozen. He mechanically pulled up the man’s profile. Johnny Richards’ account had a few action movies, some chick flicks, and a lot of pornography.

Steve tried to change the topic to Johnny’s wife again. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate a movie date night. This one’s a good choice.”

He flashed Johnny Richards another customer service smile as he scanned the movie, but Johnny wasn’t looking at his face. He was watching Steve’s hands.

“That’ll be three dollars,” Steve said.

Johnny’s eyes flashed to his, lips curled back in a sneer. “You a queer?”

Steve blinked in confusion. “What?”

“You. A. Queer?” Johnny repeated.

Steve’s muscles locked at the word and at the tone the man was using. He automatically looked for Robin, trying to make sure he was between her and the threat, before he remembered that she was at school.

“No?” Steve said. He didn’t sound confident, which he knew was a mistake, but he was really confused.

“No?” The man mocked. “Then why are you painting your nails like one?”

Oh. Steve glanced down at his hands, at the red color on his nails. He’d kept it on when he’d left the house because he liked it and because Robin had been the one to paint them, but he’d been too preoccupied to think his decision through.

He should have known better than to wear nail polish in Hawkins, Indiana.

“I didn’t paint them,” Steve said. “My friend did. She, um, wanted to practice.”

Johnny gave Steve a disdainful look. “Acting like a pussy isn’t going to get you any girls. If she’s painting your nails, you’re stuck in the friend zone — you don’t have to give her your dignity as well. Have some self-respect and stop looking like a goddamn queer.”

“I’m not a queer,” Steve protested.

“Just some friendly advice,” Johnny said. “Better you hear it from me, than someone who wouldn’t be so nice.”

It sounded so much like something Steve’s father would say that he gave an automatic, “Yes, sir.”

Johnny Richards nodded, like that was the reaction he’d been hoping for. He slapped three dollars on the counter, far from Steve’s hand as if he didn’t want to touch him, then grabbed the tape and walked out.

Steve felt hot all over, shame and embarrassment and something else filling him. He felt dirty, like he shouldn’t have liked having his nails done.

He was a boy. He wasn’t supposed to like girly things. Even if he was a girl half the time, when he was in Robin’s body and she was in his.

He didn’t mind being in Robin’s body. He didn’t mind her longer hair, or her painted nails, or her makeup, even when it was on him. He liked wearing her clothes, even though most of it wasn’t his style and he wished he could get some nice blouses and skirts.

But that was all when he was in Robin’s body. He was allowed to like those things when he was a girl. He had been stupid to think he could get away with painted nails as a boy.

Steve was still shaking. He felt awful, like he’d been through something worse than a few mean comments from a stranger. The kind of comments he himself had made in the past.

If this was how everyone he had bullied had felt, maybe he deserved to feel this way.

Steve kept his fingers curled as he helped the next few customers, hiding his nails from sight.

By the time Robin showed up for her afternoon shift, Steve was able to act sufficiently normal. Robin was still half-avoiding him, but it was Friday afternoon and they were ridiculously busy trying to rent out movies for the weekend.

Steve waited until they were alone in the store, closing up, to say “Can you please come over? I want to talk.”

“Okay,” Robin said to the ground. But she got in the car with him and let him drive her to his house.

They took their shoes off by the entryway and made their way to the kitchen, moving seamlessly to make dinner. They were both comfortable moving around Steve’s kitchen as if they lived there, because they both lived there.

Steve almost added peas to his own plate before he remembered that he hated peas. They only tasted good when he was Robin.

When they were both picking at their reheated lasagne, Steve said, “I’m sorry.”

Robin’s head jerked up, a bewildered look on her face.

“I’m sorry,” Steve repeated. He hadn’t said those words much the first sixteen years of his life. But he’d say them a million times now if that’s what it took to get Robin to forgive him.

“For what?” Robin asked.

Was this a test? Steve’s mother did that sometimes, made him explain what he was apologizing for so she could scoff in his face and tell him that wasn’t why she was mad and to try again.

“For asking you to go on that date for me?” Steve guessed.

Robin didn’t look happy with that answer.

“I don’t know,” Steve quickly admitted. Sometimes it was better to just get it over with. She could explain how he’d fucked up and then she could yell and then he could apologize and hopefully they would be okay. “I’m sorry for being so stupid that I don’t know what I did, I guess. But I didn’t mean you make you mad. Or sad? And I’m really sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Robin said, sounding angry.

Steve hesitated. This felt like a bad idea, but “You seem mad.”

“I am, but not at you.”

“Then why haven’t you looked at me all day?”

Robin growled and got to her feet, starting to pace. “It’s complicated, okay? I’m mad at your stupid body, and you’re in it right now. And I’m mad at this whole situation. It fucking sucks, okay?”

Steve didn’t know how to fix the situation. They had hit a dead end with everything they had tried, and unless El got her powers back, their only possible next step was to trust the government scientists. Call Steve crazy, but even before the Russians he hadn’t trusted government scientists, especially ones who had experimented on a little girl for her powers.

So he focused on the part he maybe could fix. “Why are you mad at my body?”

Robin spun on her heel, still pacing, arm flying as she tried to explain. “It just feels all… off. Wrong. Like, I’m a girl and I hate being trapped in a boy’s body. I hate being perceived as a man. Don’t you feel the same when you’re in my body? Like it’s wrong being a girl?”

No, Steve didn’t. But that probably wasn’t helpful to say right now. And it was weird. Shameful.

If Robin didn’t like boy stuff when she was in Steve’s body, why did he like girl stuff when he was in hers?

“I guess I didn’t think about it so much,” Steve lied.

“It’s just… ugh! It makes my skin crawl,” Robin said. “And I hate that we switch so much and we can’t control it. I feel like I’m missing my life. I missed my first day of senior year. I barely ever see my parents anymore, and I miss them. They’re threatening to kick me out of band because I’ve missed so many rehearsals, but you can’t play the trumpet so I don’t know what else we’re supposed to do. And I hate never being able to make plans with anyone but the kids because no one else knows about the body-swapping and I can’t ever guarantee I’m going to be in my own body.”

That was a lot. Steve had no idea how to fix any of that. He hadn’t really been bothered by the switching — his only friends all knew about the Upside Down, so if he showed up in Robin’s body to plans he’d made as Steve, no one batted an eye.

But Robin was different. Robin had a life outside of him and the kids. She had friends and school and band and parents who loved her.

Of course she would feel like she was missing out on her life.

“And!” Robin continued, still pacing. “I fucking hated that date. I didn’t know how to drive and I didn’t know what to say. She kept expecting me to be you, and she kept looking all awkward and put-off whenever I answered something like me. And I don’t know a thing about basketball and I hate Grease!”

“Why would you hate-”

“And she kissed me,” Robin said.

Steve went quiet.

There were tears in Robin’s eyes.

“It was the end of the date and she just kissed me, even though the date sucked. Even though she hated every part of me that was actually me. And I’ve never kissed anyone before. It was my first kiss, and it was with a girl, but I was a boy and I was you and she didn’t even like me.”

Robin started crying.

Steve didn’t know what else to do, so he pulled her into a hug and let her sob into his shoulder.

“I never thought I’d get to kiss a girl,” Robin said hoarsely. “Or at least not while I was in Hawkins. And then I did and it was all wrong.”

There was so much pain in her voice and it was all Steve’s fault. He never should have asked her to go on that stupid date. He could have just rescheduled instead of putting her in that position.

She’d said she wasn’t mad at him, but maybe she had just been lying to spare Steve’s feelings. This was all his fault.

He would have to find a way to fix it. He wasn’t sure how yet, but he would do it.

Eventually, Robin stopped crying. She pulled out of Steve’s hug, grabbing his hands instead and swinging them between them, looking down so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.

Then she froze, lifting Steve’s hands to her face. Steve tensed for a moment, thinking of the man from Family Video, before he remembered that this was Robin. She wasn’t going to judge him. She was the one who’d painted his nails in the first place.

“You kept it on,” Robin said.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

“You didn’t have to,” Robin said. “Why would you do that?”

Steve shrugged.

“You can take it off, if you want,” Robin said. “I didn’t mean to stick you with it after we switched back. I just needed to do something to make your body feel more like me.”

Because Robin hated being in Steve’s body. He understood that much, at least. His body came with headaches and a deaf ear and blurry eyesight and dyslexia. And maleness, which Steve hadn’t realized would be strange for Robin.

“I can keep it on,” Steve said. “If it makes you more comfortable when we switch.”

Robin bit her lip, looking hesitant. “It’s still your body, Steve. I don’t want to make it comfortable for me by making it uncomfortable for you.”

Steve was all twisted up inside. He didn’t know how he felt about the nail polish. “I don’t mind it. I can keep it on.”

Robin still hesitated. “People might be… mean. If you keep it on.”

Steve felt hot all over again. Off-balance.

But what could he say? He couldn’t complain to Robin of all people that he’d gotten called a queer today at work. He would sound like a whiny, self-centered dick. He knew Robin had gotten called slurs before. And it was worse, because for her they were actually true.

He was just being a baby about this. He had to toughen up and get over it.

“Please,” he said forcing a smile. “Nobody’s going to say anything to Steve Harrington.”

Robin scanned his face, like she was checking if he was sure, and he gave her his best over-confident smirk, a look he hadn’t really pulled out since the King Steve days.

Maybe it was because he’d never used this expression on Robin before, but she seemed to believe it. She smiled back at him and he could see that it was real.

“Thanks, Steve,” she said. “We should get more bottles though. I’m not sure maroon is really your color.”

Steve pretended to be offended. “But I want to match my baby.”

“Your baby?” Robin asked, eyebrows up.

“My car,” Steve said.

Robin moaned. “Ugh. It’s bad enough you have a picture of a car hanging in your room. You are not allowed to start calling your car your baby, Steve. I will disown you.”

“You can’t disown me! You literally are me half the time.”

“I can and will disown you,” Robin countered. “I’ll be disowning you as a person, not your body, so I’ll just ignore you. Unless you act normal about cars. No calling them baby, or calling yourself their daddy. That might have been the most traumatizing part of Starcourt, really.”

“That was the most traumatizing part of Starcourt,” Steve repeated incredulously, putting his hands on his hips.

“Yep,” Robin said, nodding firmly. “That was the most traumatizing part.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about acting normal. You staying over?”

“I guess I should, at this point,” Robin said. “Let me just call my parents.”

Steve caught Robin’s arm as she moved to the phone. “You don’t have to stay. If you miss your parents and you want to see them, you should go home.”

It hurt to say. Steve didn’t want Robin to go. He didn’t want to be alone in his house after being alone at the store all day.

Maybe Robin could see that, because her expression softened. “No,” she said. “I’ll stay.”

They fell asleep together, Steve finding it much easier to keep the nightmares at bay when he knew Robin was by his side, safe from Russians and monsters.

He woke up in Robin’s body, wrapped in his own arms.

***

Steve and Robin spent the weekend together.

Robin felt terrible about making Steve feel bad. She hadn’t meant to take her anger out on him — she was mad at him, but he hadn’t done anything wrong. He never would have pushed her to go on the stupid date if she’d said no and it wasn’t his fault they were swapping bodies.

But it was Robin’s fault that Steve had had that look on his face — fearful and desperate and apologetic, like he was afraid that he had irreparably damaged their friendship.

Sometimes Robin forgot that Steve was as desperate to keep her as she was to keep him. Sometimes a mean little voice in her brain whispered that he was Steve Harrington, that he’d been cool and popular and he had known how to get people to like him. That even now, he was worshipped by a pack of feral children and he was generous and selfless and funny and interesting and that anyone would be lucky to be his friend. He didn’t have to settle for Robin, who couldn’t read social cues and rambled way too much and had never had a real friend before Steve.

She hated that voice in her head. It was a liar and it was mean to both him and her. Steve might have been popular, but he had never had a close friend before Robin (or maybe Dustin) either. He might be adored by his kids, but he had no friends his own age. And he was incredible in a million ways, but he also thought Robin was incredible and he told her all the time, calling her funny and brave and smart like he didn’t care that she was a socially inept nerd.

She hadn’t meant to hurt him. She hadn’t realized that quietly seething — at him, a little, but also at the injustice of this whole situation — would hurt him more than outright telling him she was upset.

She should have known better. She knew what had happened in his relationship with Nancy, and while she was nothing like Nancy Wheeler and she definitely wasn’t dating Steve, she knew Steve had a fear of being unintentionally terrible to the people he loved.

He had never been terrible to her, not even once, not even when she’d rejected him or come out to him or made him suffer through period cramps in her body.

But Robin had been terrible to Steve, on purpose at first when she’d been forced to work with King Steve at Scoops Ahoy and then unintentionally a few times, like yesterday, when she hadn’t taken enough care with Steve’s emotions.

Robin decided to make it up to him. On Saturday morning they cooked breakfast together, making blueberry pancakes and coffee. Then Robin helped Steve re-do the nails he’d painted on her body, showing him how to get the air bubbles out and how to paint it in coats so it could dry in between. Steve watched attentively and held Robin’s hands up proudly when he was done.

They hung out with the gremlins Saturday afternoon. Back in their own bodies, Steve taught Lucas how to shoot hoops while Robin played a vicious game of Monopoly against Dustin and Mike.

“How come your nails are red?” Dustin asked Steve when Steve and Lucas came in from the driveway, sweaty and panting.

“I painted them,” Robin said. Mike landed on Park Place and Robin grinned as she charged him an exorbitant amount of money. Capitalism was so fun when it was fictional and she was winning.

“Isn’t that weird though?” Mike asked. “Having your nails painted?”

Steve tensed. Robin had been waiting for the moment he gave up on the painted nails as too feminine or too gay, and apparently Mike’s question was that moment. Robin had honestly thought he would last until at least Monday.

“Munson has his nails painted,” Steve said cattily, which wasn’t what Robin had expected at all.

Mike rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause it’s metal. You’re too preppy to pull off painted nails.”

Steve looked a little dumbfounded and Robin hid a grin. Apparently the kids’ problem wasn’t with a man having his nails painted, it was with Steve doing it.

“Steve’s metal,” Lucas said.

Mike scoffed. “How?”

“He has a bat full of nails,” Lucas said reasonably. “That’s pretty metal.”

“See, Wheeler?” Steve boasted. “I’m metal enough to paint my nails.”

Mike scowled. “I’m more metal than you are.”

They all looked at Mike, scrawny as a beanpole and dressed in horrifically mismatched clothing. Robin felt a bit blinded by the bright colors he was wearing.

Dustin was the first one to start laughing, but they all eventually joined in.

Mike grumbled, crossing his arms defensively. “Will would’ve agreed with me.”

“You mean he would have lied to spare your feelings,” Dustin teased.

Mike yelped and launched a pillow at Dustin, who threw one back, and then they were all engaged in a pillow fight with Steve’s mom’s fancy throw pillows. Robin used to opportunity to whack at Mike and Dustin, who were objectively the most annoying of the children. She was about to get Dustin from behind when all of a sudden she was looming over Lucas, all the way across the room.

Robin lost her balance and fell, straight onto Lucas, who let out a high-pitched yelp as her elbows and knees hit him.

“Sorry,” Robin gasped, rolling off him. “I didn’t know Steve was doing fucking acrobatics during a pillow fight.”

Lucas’s head jerked sharply. “Woah. Robin?”

Robin nodded.

Lucas smiled and lifted a pillow, smacking it across Robin’s face. As Robin sputtered, he said “that’s for using illegal weapons in a pillow fight. No elbows!”

“Oh, you’re on, Sinclair.”

As Robin tried to murder Lucas with a pillow, she thought that this was what she was missing in the rest of her life; people who watched her switch bodies with Steve and then just kept going like it was normal. She hated dropping into her body in the middle of a customer interaction at Family Video, when the customer would get mad at having to repeat the name of the movie they were looking for. She hated dropping into her body mid-conversation with Kate, unsure what the hell they were talking about and getting weird looks for babbling more off-topic than usual. She hated her inability to know where she was going to be at any given minute, or who she was going to be.

But with Steve’s kids, who’d been to hell and back and didn’t think a bit of body-swapping was the weirdest thing they’d ever seen, she almost felt normal.

“Let’s get Steve,” Robin whispered to Lucas. They crept up behind Steve — which was so weird, watching the back of her own head as Steve used her body to fight off Dustin and Mike — and jumped at him, whacking him with pillows.

Steve shrieked — high-pitched with Robin’s vocal cords — and spun, narrowing his eyes at Robin in his body.

“Oh, it’s on, Buckley.”

125 notes · View notes

Southpaw

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

“Yeah?” You respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Coke as well,” Taehyung says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh god,” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, do you need any—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Home?” She asks, “Thank god.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, thanks again.”

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm,” you mumble.

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

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

He nods slowly before a silence falls between you two.

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

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

The question catches you off guard.

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

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

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

“Sure,” you answer simply.

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“Who is that?” Jennie asks you.

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

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

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

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

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

Jennie’s eyes widen. “What?”

“I know right,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he smiles.

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

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

“You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook looks pale, “I’ve met her, once or twice,” he says and it’s all the confirmation you need to understand that meanshe’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, Yoongithis 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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The Cover Story, Ch. 1

Greetings! This is a preview of my first chapter that I’m posting exclusively on my patreon. If you like it, I hope you follow along as I work on it there. I appreciate your time and thoughts and would love to hear what you think.

Without further ado, or perhaps much ado about thing...

Lucy Madani was not going to cry.

That was a lie. She might cry. She wanted to cry. She was known to cry very easily, but not without reason, and there certainly were more than enough reasons already for her to tear up as she stood on the corner and felt a wave of water from a bus going through a puddle splash her legs and skirt. It was only just after eight in the morning, and she was ready to crawl back into bed, admit defeat graciously, and sleep straight through to tomorrow.

“I can’t talk right now, Baba,” Lucy muttered into her phone as she resumed her quick walk down the street.

“You are mad, and we need to talk.”

“Let me rephrase it. I don’t want to and I also can’t. I’m going to be late for my meeting.”

“Your big interview pitch. I wanted to wish you good luck, but you stormed off.”

“Yes, that is what one tends to do when their father informs them that he is getting engaged,” she fumed, her anger coming over her once again at the thought as she darted across the street, waving her hand at the honking car.

She was an adult, she tried to remind herself. A full, grown adult. An adult-adult who barely had a stable job, had heaps of student loans, and still lived with her widowed father. She didn’t throw tantrums and she wasn’t going to cry about any of it. Today was too important for that, and she was going to nail the pitch and finally move on from puff pieces for teen magazines. She was going to make the jump to serious journalist. She was going to be requested, by name.

Today she was not going to cry.

At least not on purpose.

“Will you be home for dinner?”

Luckily, he knew enough to sound sorry, though it wasn’t enough of a victory for her, only fueling the prickling behind her eyes.

“No, I’m going over Laila’s. I’ll just stay there. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with her.”

“Lucy joon, please talk to me. I know you’re mad-- you have your mother’s temper, but I think we should talk about this.”

“I’m going into my meeting. We’ll talk sometime this week,” she offered, shaking her head. “Just… I have to go.”

She didn’t wait for much of a reply because she knew he was playing low, dragging her mother into it. It only made it worse. Shoes sloshing against the tile of the lobby, she made her way to the elevator and decided firmly, once again, that she was not going to cry.

Her phone chimed with a handful of well wishes and good luck’s from the group chat and she thanked them quickly before trying to find the meeting information from her calendar, head down and lost in her own world as she stepped into the elevator and right into a stranger.

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy hurried, looking forward and then following the chest and then long pale neck up a few more inches to an amused smirk and eyes hidden by wayfarer sunglasses.

“Not a problem. I was in the way.”

The stranger ran her hand through a mop of curly copper hair atop her head, faded on the sides and shaggy on top, decidedly better put together than any tiktok boy’s. Her small smile pulled at bow-shaped lips and left dimples on both cheeks, and there were too many freckles to even begin counting. Lucy gulped before moving to the side and slinking to the back corner.

Of course she would get into an elevator with the hottest woman she’d ever seen. Of course she would nearly plow her over in her hurry. Of course she would be sweet and smile like that and have an adorably shaped chin and face. Of course Lucy would do all of that while looking like something the cat dragged in after a bad night.

But luck wasn’t with her today, and she was unable to hide too long, as no one else got on behind her and she heaved the heaviest sigh before looking down at her ruined stockings, spattered with mud and whatever else was festering in that puddle. Her skirt was soaked still and dripping and she was beginning to really feel it sinking into her skin. Phone clutched tightly in her hand, she felt the weight of it all and didn’t know what to do with it.

From under her brow she looked up to study the back of the stranger, their long legs and black jeans, their primly tucked in black t-shirt that stretched slightly across her shoulders, and the softest looking hair in the most beautiful shade of red she’d ever seen.

The elevator ascended approximately three floors before she started crying. Alligator tears slipped down her cheeks before she could do anything to stop them. And then the stranger cleared their throat and quietly turned around to verify what was happening, was actually happening, only making it worse.

But she didn’t say anything, just turned back around, and with the smallest movement stretched an arm forward to hold the elevator between floors, and quickly, Lucy turned herself around and faced the wall. She took a few steadying breaths and wiped her cheeks, mentally preparing to leave everything else behind and focus on the moment-- when she would be selling herself to one of the largest companies of all time to be the writer of the profile of their Director of Creative Design before they went public. She’d prepared. She was ready. Nothing else mattered and she was a goddamn adult.

The stranger, the kind, hot stranger pushed her sunglasses up into the messy curly hair and offered a smaller smile than before, the communal ‘it’ll be okay’ without saying anything. Lucy didn’t register much of it, just stared at the grey-green of her eyes, forgetting all else, and especially that she was a goddamn adult who desperately needed a payday to move out of her father’s place and away from whoever was moving into her mother’s side of the bed.

“I’m not usually,” she began, but bit her tongue because she didn’t want to lie. She was usually like this, just occasionally less muddy. “Thank you.”

“We can stay a few more minutes if you’d like. I don’t really want to go to work today.”

For the first time all day, Lucy smiled genuinely and felt lighter. It was that quick and that easy.

“It’s okay. I’m ready.”

A curt nod led to a stretch again and the elevator started once more. Lucy leaned across and pressed the button for her floor, catching a whiff of a distinctly woodsy smell, like sandalwood perhaps? There was a hit of lavender? Maybe cedar? It was wonderful. She wanted to breathe in more of it, but retreated before she was the girl who cried and sniffed people in the elevator.

The silence was oddly comfortable for a few more seconds until it dinged and she took the step out. The stranger politely held the door and offered one final smile, complete with just one dimple this time.

“Good luck,” she winked before pulling back, hands clasped loosely in front of her before the doors closed forever.

It couldn’t get better than that, Lucy decided, staring at the elevator doors and steadying herself once again. But she was hoping it couldn’t get worse either.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Quinn Sullivan wanted to die.

Not really die, but she might have taken a good coma. Just for like a week maybe. Or six months. Something long enough to beat out this hangover she was sporting, courtesy of her very thoughtful best friend, and if she was lucky, long enough to survive the offering and release of the new game. Maybe a year-long coma? Was that too much to ask for, honestly? Maybe the universe could toss her a bone, just this once, especially after the previous year of her life.

But in lieu of a swift and merciful death and/or coma, she was just going to have to survive the giant hangover that was currently attacking her body. All she needed was a quiet day and an extra large piece of leftover pizza she was certain was waiting in the staff fridge somewhere. Maybe some birthday cake--

And then a five-five wrecking ball of a human barreled into her chest.

The rest of her ride up, Quinn thought about the weird trip it’d been, and if she should have done something different. And then she beat herself up for winking. Who winked? Why did she wink? She’d never done it before. But she earned a smile from a cute girl, and there was a tiny flutter at the base of her rib cage, one she hadn’t noticed in a long, long time. She pressed her fingertips there for the rest of the ride to her floor.

With a groan, she put her sunglasses back on as the elevator dinged to her floor and took a deep breath to prepare for her day, not allowing her brain to trace out an entire life with the cute, crying stranger where they bought peaches at the farmer’s market on Saturday’s and danced in the kitchen. Romance was dead and dreaming was forbidden.

“Aspirin is already on your desk,” Jenny greeted her cheerfully. “With an egg sandwich and some fruit.”

“No leftover pizza?” Quinn didn’t pout, but she might have for that.

“Trust me, this will fix you up much better. I went to a state school, remember, MIT?”

“We partied…” Quinn trailed off as she pushed open the door to her office.

She hadn’t partied, but she was certain people had to have partied. It was college, and though it was many moons ago, she certainly couldn’t remember hangovers feeling like this. Maybe this is what almost thirty felt like. That thought didn’t help with the headache.

“All-night coding sessions don’t count. Eat the food. I’ll hold the wolves at bay as long as I can, but Chris and the Exlust team are adamant you have the meeting today to resolve story issues.”

Quinn tossed back the aspirin before she even sat down. Maybe Jenny was her universal compensation. The shades were already drawn so her normally bright office was much more tolerable. Even the eggs didn’t make her stomach swirl, and she was grateful her assistant learned something useful while studying biomedical engineering..

“I just need like an hour to work something out. I had an idea last night--”

“Before or after the sangria?”

“During. Definitely during, but still. I just need to work through it and then they can tear me to shreds. Can you add to my calendar a warning to never drink again?”

Quinn was fairly certain she’d texted her assistant that at some point in the morning. Probably before the shower, but after the first cup of coffee.

“Gladly,” Jenny smiled softly. “You doing okay? It’s been a while since you tied one on like this.”

“I’m fine. Just celebrating with Darcy. No more sad drinking, I believe was the rule you came up with and I follow all of your rules.”

With a roll of the eyes, files were placed on her desk and her assistant retreated to the ringing phones, which when the door was held open, were actual torture devices to Quinn’s brain.

“Sadie wants your afternoon free. I think it’s another reporter.”

“She’s relentless.”

“Maybe you’re impossible?”

“It’s genetic then,” Quinn sighed, munching on a grape and tugging open a notebook. “One hour, please?”

“I got you, boss.”

“Thanks.”

Never quite sure how Jenny did it, Quinn chose not to ask any questions. But when she asked for an hour, she got it. And despite the headache and laziness in her muscles, the food and aspirin did help so that by the end of her allotted time, she felt like she had captured the breakthrough that appeared to her the night before.

Before she could admire her work though, her team filed in and she was prepared to start her day, finally, even with the nagging idea of a reporter nipping at her thoughts through it all.

Somewhere between her breakfast and lunch, Quinn felt better. She fired off a few texts to see how Darcy was handling it and received only pictures of a half obscured but obviously still in bed face and chuckled to herself. It was a slower day, and she wasn’t about to waste it with a hangover. She should give Jenny a raise, she decided, because the woman could cure hangovers. Maybe submit her for the Nobel for Science.

“Sadie is here,” her assistant buzzed and Quinn lost all forms of motivation.

Her head hit her desk dramatically as the door opened and her sister walked in. Slightly shorter, but older by two years, Sadie was nearly everything Quinn could never manage to be despite her best intentions. She had the MBA from Harvard and the doting husband that came with it, a cute brownstone near White Hill and the park, and her first baby on the way. But even past her resume, Sadie Sullivan-Hawkins was personable and charismatic. She was adored and shrewd, capable of disarming anyone and eviscerating the others. It all came so easy to her, to have people around, to talk and be listened to, to be loved. She was a shark in business, and at the same time warm and put people at ease.

Quinn could barely tie her shoes and Sadie was running a marathon in life.

“Want to talk about it?” Sadie smiled as she took the seat across from Quinn’s desk.

“About what?”

“Why you’re getting drunk with Darcy on a Tuesday?”

“She got the job at Taylor and Vine. We were celebrating.”

“So not about Chloe’s announcement in the Times?”

Quinn played dumb, typing gibberish into her phone because she didn’t want to look at her sister’s kind and caring face. If she looked, then she’d have more feelings, and for the life of her, she just wanted the incessant tinnitus of the break up to disappear completely.

“Nope, I caught that this morning though, so I was in the right physical and mental place to really wallow. I don’t care about her.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“I have these notes to get done for the Shadow Operation team before our meeting with design. I’m fine. My ex can marry whoever she wants-- God knows she didn’t want to marry me. Good luck to the next sap.”

This made her sister chuckle, and Quinn smiled quietly to herself. There was still a bitterness there that she couldn’t get rid of. It was masking potentially the worst hurt imaginable. She preferred the bite of the bitter though. Easier to navigate.

“I have someone I want you to meet with.”

“Oh, fuck off Sadie,” Quinn moaned, knowing full well what was about to happen. “I’m not talking to anyone. You’re the face of this outfit. That’s what you told me.”

“You’ve run off three other reporters. Our public offering is going to underperform if there is no faith in the heart of our company,” she explained, sitting up a little straighter. “And that’s you. I might crunch the numbers and keep the lights on, but you are what people are buying.”

“Then you tell them about me. I don’t even have to be there.”

“If only that were true, my job would be a lot easier.”

At a stalemate, the sisters stared at each other for a few moments before Sadie broke, making a face as she smiled towards her lap, running her hand over the smallest bump barely showing. Quinn shook her head and looked away. Anywhere else was better than the damn disapproving look leveled at her now.

“I don’t know what to say,” Quinn finally muttered. “I don’t want to-- I can’t--”

“Chloe was an idiot. She broke your heart. Now, you barely exist, but I know that you’re still you. And we need this.”

“I can’t. I really can’t. I wish you’d get it.”

It hurt too much all over again. In a weird way, Quinn missed the feeling of the hangover because at least that was a useful ache. The dull throbbing in her chest and bones just felt hollow and haunting.

“We have a meeting with her. I’ve already walked her through the contracts and final edits, as well as shown her around. Please just rip the bandaid off and get it over with. She’s good. I’ve read a few of her pieces and Donna recommended her to me.”

Sadie had their mother’s eyes. It drove Quinn crazy, that she looked like she didn’t belong in her own family. It also meant it felt like her mom was staring at her and reminding her to do her chores. She rubbed the back of her neck, letting her head lull to the side.

“I’ll… I’ll try.”

“Yes! I knew it. Thank you. Seriously, Q. It’s going to be great. This is going to--”

“I said I’ll try. I didn’t say I’d do it.”

“It’ll be great,” Sadie ignored the warning, hopping up from her chair and moving to the door to beckon the reporter in. “Come in and meet the genius of the whole outfit.”

Quinn rubbed her face with her hands, digging her fingers into the corners of her eyes under her glasses before steadying herself. She could do it for her sister, she reminded herself, and that stupid niece or nephew she was incubating.

Maybe it would be as simple as ripping off a band-aid. Maybe she could just let a stranger rifle through her entire life and being, except that she wasn’t sure there was anything there anymore. Everything felt like she was going through the motions, and it was terrifying to Quinn to let someone see that she was barely stitched together. How could she explain that there was nothing behind door number one? Let alone number two or number three.

“Quinn, this is Lucy Madani. She’s a freelancer hired by New York Magazine. She did a great piece on the Attorney General last month and her article on the director who went on to win Cannes went viral.”

There was still mud on her skirt, but her stockings had been disbanded, gone forever, but it was unmistakable the stranger from the elevator standing in her office. That felt like an entire lifetime ago, and yet Quinn tried to swallow.

“You have longer hair, in the pictures I found of you online,” Lucy offered, overcoming her surprise much quicker. She stuck out her hand over Quinn’s desk and waited for her to shake it.

She was a reporter. A reporter who cried in the elevator. A reporter Quinn had, if she were being honest, checked out. But foremost, she was a reporter. She wanted to dive into the deepest parts of Quinn’s brain for profit, mutual benefit and all. It sounded dreadful.

The universe did not owe her anything, Quinn remembered, but the perpetual mocking was getting a little over the top.

“Quinn Sullivan,” she shook the hand presented and tried to breathe. Lucy’s hand was warm and felt soft. She wasn’t sure how to let go. “How’s it going?”

Fuck! Her mind blared as she dropped the reporter’s hand and mentally beat herself to a pulp. Who talked like that? And still, she could not answer, winked?

“It’s been a day,” she smiled, nodding to herself as she accepted the seat Quinn offered. “Your sister has sung your praises all morning though. I feel like I could write about your without even meeting you.”

“Great. Let’s do that.”

Sadie laughed but gave Quinn a stern look.

“I’m going to go grab you some passes and copies of the contracts,” Sadie smiled graciously at Lucy before turning to her sister. “Listen to her pitch.”

“Seems it’s been decided,” she muttered to herself before plastering on a smile.

“Don’t have too much fun. I’ll be right back.”

And with that she truly was gone, and Quinn was left in her office with the reporter who had pretty eyes. They felt like syrup-- warm and deep brown, gooey and sticky. Her face was longer, her nose thin and long, her lips full and bitten-- and Quinn snapped herself out of her perusal and felt her chest warm too much. No, the universe didn’t owe her anything, and the punishment for thinking it did was sitting across from her in a muddy skirt and gentle smile.

For just a moment, Quinn held her breath and willed a coma..

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Nobody's Perfect (part5)

Warning - smut (always)

Taglist Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x

You'd spent the rest of that afternoon discussing your characters, and rehearsing your rewritten scenes together. The new dynamic working well for you both off screen and on, and both Steve and the Director Anto couldn't help but be impressed at the new found chemistry the two of you had together over the last week. James, the assistant director, had pulled Cillian away for a chat in his trailer, and he had a face like thunder when he came out afterwards.

"Hey... You okay?" You bumped into him as he was walking back to his trailer.

"I'm good." He squeezed your arm, but carried on walking away from you.

"James had a word then." Sophie's voice behind you startled you.

"About what?"

"There's rumours flying around - about the two of you, have you not heard them?"

"What rumours?"

"The two of you? Sleeping together?" You scoffed at her.

"God, don't be ridiculous Soph, he's nearly 20 years older than me for goodness sake..."

"Y/n... Just be careful. Okay?" You were stunned - what business was it of anyone's who you shared a bed with? You looked round to see if anyone was nearby, wanting to go to his trailer but there were cast and crew members everywhere. You headed to your own trailer instead.

"Sophie told me what James said Cill..." You texted him, sitting down on your sofa.

"Why can't I just be allowed to move on? Why is there always something that's standing in my way huh?" A quick reply.

"What do we do?"

"If he finds out we're together off camera it could cause you real problems y/n. He sees it as massively unprofessional.. thinks it'll affect the way we are together.. I think it's fucking bullshit personally, you're playing my wife for god's sake..."

"Not married yet Cill... That's next week's scene."

"We need to spend less time together off set.. we're clearly raising suspicions." Your heart lurched, but you knew what he said made sense. At least until filming finished next week, then it was no one's business what happened.

"Okay... Gonna be hard though.."

"Can't wait til I can see you again properly xx"

"Me too. I've seen Clara's wedding dress already, it's beautiful Cill xx"

"Not as beautiful as you will be in it xx"

"I'm heading back to Ireland for a couple of days in the morning - mam's birthday. I'll be back Sunday night xx"

"I'm heading to my sister's place in Liverpool tonight. Wish I could spend it with you though xx"

"Me too babe. Gonna be a long weekend without you xx"

The weekend was the longest you'd been apart since day one of filming, and it was just as difficult as you thought it would be. You'd tried not to bother him so he could spend time with his family, but he couldn't get enough of you. He'd send you photos of him and his brother drinking in Cork city, you replied with photos of you and your sister in Liverpool.

You were waiting onset, your hair pristine, makeup done, and the long, white, flowing dress fitted to perfection, even over the small 'bump' you were wearing underneath your dress - Clara was 5 months pregnant. You hadn't had chance to see Cillian since his return the night before - his flight back had been delayed and he didn't get in until nearly 3am. All you were waiting for was Paul Anderson, his character Arthur, was to walk you down the aisle, after your onscreen father had been killed off in an earlier episode. Paul came onset and couldn't take his eyes off you. He pulled you close for a gentle hug, earning a glare from your hair and makeup lady Jenny. He chuckled and pulled away, before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

"Cillian's a very lucky man, and I hope to god he realises that y/n." You pulled back sharply, shaking your head.

"There's nothing between me and Cill, Paul.." he winked at you and offered you his arm, ready to film the scene. Jenny came over to fix your veil over your head, covering your face. The main director, Anto, called Action, and the wedding march music played. The doors to the small newly built chapel opened and you and Arthur walked down the aisle. You could see Cillian in his navy blue suit at the end, his eyes on you. You could almost feel the emotion radiating from him.

You stood next to him, and he lifted the veil over your head. You could tell he was fighting Cillian, and trying to remain as Tommy, but he couldn't stop himself winking at you when he knew the camera wouldn't be on him, making you blush. His eyes also wandered down to the bump under your dress, and you could tell it was bringing back painful memories for him, but he held it together to get the scene done.

The scene complete, it was time for the cast to move onto the reception set. You were about to walk with everyone before an arm pulled you behind a curtain.

"Paul's covering me for 10minutes, y/n, I needed to see you..." His lips were on yours in seconds, as he pulled you down a small set of steps into a secluded backstage room. Locking the door behind him, he pulled you back to him quickly. You could feel how hard he was underneath the trousers and you gasped as he started to hitch your dress up your legs.

"Fuck.. Cillian we can't do this here..."

"We've got... 7 minutes.. yes we can..." He spun you round and leaned you over an amplifier, must've been a spare for the music they needed for the wedding scene. Lifting your dress over your hips, you heard him unzip his trousers and line himself up against you.

"No underwear?" He questioned.

"Tight fitting dress... Shit..." He pushed himself in and quickly built up a powerful rhythm. You'd gone on the pill after your little mishap earlier that month.

"Fuck.. you got tighter.."

He pounded into you, you had to cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet. Your much needed orgasm was building rapidly, as you heard him panting behind you, his hips snapping into you harder.

Before you knew it, you came hard over him, and he followed quickly with a deep groan - hot streams of cum flowing into you like a fountain. He pulled out slowly, and you felt a tissue between your legs as he cleaned you up - you couldn't risk a trace of anything being left on you before you did the next scenes. He zipped his trousers up and helped to pull your dress back down, checking both of you over to make sure you still looked as you did before, incredibly you did. He pulled you to stand, and adjusted the bump under your dress slightly.

"You look beautiful, y/n. You really do."

"You look so handsome in that suit Cill..." He kissed you, his hand lingering on the bump a little longer. You felt butterflies, you couldn't help it. Separating, you made your way to the next scene.

Walking into the set, you could see James eyeing you from the corner suspiciously. Cillian was already there, stood with Paul having their hair and makeup readjusted slightly for the new lighting. Jenny waved for you to come to her for the same thing. The penultimate scene for the cast and crew.

You and Cillian were wrapped up in each others arms that evening on the sofa in his hotel room, some cheesy 90s horror film on the TV, but neither of you really paying much attention to it.

"Babe, I think we need to talk..." He said, as he pulled back and you sat up, fingers still entwined with his as you played with the hard skin by his thumb nail.

"Sounds ominous..."

"Filming ends tomorrow... James has already threatened to go to the press about us if we don't stop this.."

"What are you saying, Cill?" You released his hand, preparing yourself for the worst.

"Y/n this is your dream.. and I can't be the one to end that for you.. but at the same time I can't be the one to end this either. I need to know what it is you want? The press will eat us alive - there's 20 years between us.."

"I want you." Not even a glimmer of doubt. "I've been thinking long and hard about this all weekend. If I have to choose Cillian, I choose you. Every time. I don't care about the tabloids."

"Your career -"

"My career means nothing if I don't have you beside me! Don't you want me?"

"Of course I want you, that's not even a question.."

"Then what's the issue? Steve is one of the nicest guys in the industry and he ADORES you.. surely he can't feel the same way as James? I'm sick of sneaking around, pretending like nothing is going on between us! I wanna shout it from the rooftops! I want to be with you properly, and if that means I take a beating from the tabloids then so be it. If it means I'm not in series 2, so be it. There will always be other stories, other roles - there will never be another you..." You leaned forward and captured his lips in yours. He returned the kiss, and pulled you into his lap.

"I'm falling for you.. in fact no, I've fallen for you. Completely. Seeing you in that dress, with the bump underneath.. even though you were Clara, all I saw was y/n. I saw everything. Our future - what could be. It terrifies me but excites the shit outta me at the same time."

"Cillian.. I love you. I've loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you."

"I love you. I'll sort this. Let me talk to Steve tomorrow. James clearly had this weird little power trip going on.. but I'll sort it. You'll be in series 2, I promise you that."

"Even if I'm not - "

"Y/n, I'm executive producer of series 2 - trust me, you'll be in it." You smiled.

"And the press?"

"Fuck the press."

"I'd rather fuck you?" He grinned and kissed you again. Deepening the kiss as you grinded your hips into his, that erection pushing into your core with each push.

"You coming to Ireland with me when we wrap up tomorrow?"

"Try and stop me."

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La Vie en Rose

Part: 40/??

Jungkook x Yn

Y/N is just trying to survive school and her best friends. As well as the cutie from her tutoring group.

Warning: a few curse words; violence? there’s a couple of slaps; this is not beta read and the author doesn’t know what they’re doing :)

Word count: 2.5k (my longest yet)

Was this a good idea? Objectively, no. Y/n knew she shouldn’t speak with Yubin, but the burning curiosity was overwhelming. Why did she feel the need to ruin her friends' relationships? Why did she feel entitled to them? What does she gain from this? Does Yubin actually harbor feelings for Namjoon and Jungkook? Was Yubin taking forever, because she wants to make a dramatic entry? No, but right now Y/N is trying to calm herself down with silly thoughts.

Jiminie 12:44 pm

Y/n where are you?

She knows she should respond, but this is the one thing she wants to do on her own. Y/n spots Yubin, and motions towards her table. Yubin looks like she doesn’t have a care in the world, as she takes her seat. Which is a drastic difference between them. Y/n knows her eyes are puffy, her hair is not done, but she did enough to manage it, her nail polish is cracked from the constant picking, and she’s in her most comfortable clothes. Yubin looks likes she’s ready to go out for the day, hair immaculately done, falling gracefully down her shoulders. Makeup done to perfection, nails done without a single chip in them. Dress fitting her lovely figure and showing off her long legs.

“You’re probably wondering why I asked you to be here. I need to talk about your relationship with Jungkook.”

Yubin sighed, trying hard not to roll her eyes,” what exactly do you want to know?”

“When did your relationship start?”

“We started sleeping together before school started, we stopped for a bit, then one night he invited me over and we fucked. We slept together more frequently, then I found out you were a thing. I felt bad that he was lying to you, so I decided to tell the truth,” she explained with ease.

Y/n didn’t miss how vulgarly she pronounced ‘fucked’, like Yubin was trying to indifferently apply more salt to her wound.

“Did that stop before, or after you started sleeping with Namjoon?”

Yubin’s indifference almost cracked, almost. With practiced ease she replied,” I don’t know what you mean. I’ve never slept with Joonie, he’s one of my best friends.”

“But you slept with Jungkook… who’s your other best friend?”

Yubin was starting to get irritated, what did Y/n know? She couldn’t possibly understand the connection she, and the boys had,“Yes, Jungkook and I share a special bond. It was natural for us to go the next step.”

“Oh, really,” Y/n paused, pulled her phone out and unlocked it to her gallery,” if you didn’t sleep with Namjoon, then why does he have these pictures of the both of you?” Y/n slid through the pictures Namjoon was kind enough to send,” You look so happy together, it’s such a pity that it didn’t last.”

There in the palm of Y/n’s hand, were Yubin’s and Namjoon’s happy moments. Their dates in his dorm, the trips to the park, early mornings at the cafe, and the nights they spent together. Yubin was seething, how did she have those pictures? More importantly, who did she think she was questioning what she did with the people she loved.

“Why do you have those pictures?”

“Namjoon was kind enough to tell Jungkook about your relationship. They told me everything Yubin,” Y/n muttered. “Why did you lie?”

“You wouldn’t understand. We have a bond, ever since we were kids it’s always been the three of us. They promised it would always be us, then Namjoon started attracting girls, obviously I had to keep them away. Those girls weren’t good enough for him. Jungkook was always shy with people, I wasn’t worried until he got his first girlfriend senior year. They didn’t last long, I made sure of it,” Yubin explained. Y/n felt uneasy hearing her explain her motives with fondness. “I didn’t lie about sleeping with Jungkook, we shared our first time together, and Joonie had a lot of firsts with me. We’re meant to be, I’ve been trying to show them but they just can’t seem to get it. You showed up… and all of the sudden I wasn’t important. They didn’t tell me about you, they didn’t introduce you, Jungkook was blowing off plans. Namjoon rejected me, and so did Jungkook. All because some random little girl got involved in our friendship. Could you imagine if out of nowhere your best friends left you for some person they barely know?”

“Did you ever think that maybe you’re the issue Yubin,” Y/n hesitated,” I’ve been friends with Jimin, Yoongi, and Seokjin for years, obviously things change as we grow up. There was a time where I felt we were drifting apart, but that happens. I always encouraged healthy relationships, we always got along with each other’s different friends.”

“What do you know? Have you ever felt connected to someone to the point you’d do anything to stay with them? You don’t understand what I feel,” Yubin was starting to get frustrated. She didn’t need to explain herself to someone so insignificant, Yubin started to raise her voice,”Leave us alone, they are mine. They are my friends, they are going to be with me as long as I can keep them.”

*

*

“Where do you think she is?”

“I don’t know Jin, she hasn’t answered,” Jimin sighed.

“Do you think she’s ignoring us,” Yoongi asked.

“No, I don- guys it’s better if we look around and see if we can find her.”

Y/n had ignored all of their texts and calls, which was very odd. They all agreed to answer texts, even if it was short to let each other know they were still breathing. She was a big enforcer with this agreement, ever since Yoongi and Seokjin started getting busier with their 3rd year. They checked the park, the local bookstore, the library, and even texted Jennie to see if she knew where Y/n was. Jennie hadn’t seen Y/n since she left in the morning for breakfast with her girlfriends, but she’ll keep an eye for her since they were leaving the restaurant.

They were starting to get worried, Seokjin decided to text Jungkook as he was the last to talk to Y/n.

Seokjin 01:15

Have you seen Y/n?

Jungkook 01:16

Not since last night.

Why, did something happen?

Seokjin 01:20

We’ve been trying to reach her, but she’s been ignoring our calls and texts. Jennie hasn’t seen her since this morning and says she’s going to help look as well.

Jungkook 01:25

I’ll start looking for her too. I’ll let you know if I find her.

Just as Jimin was going to inform Yoongi and Seokjin to split, there at the corner of the cafe was Y/n speaking with Yubin. It didn’t take a genius to see the tension between them. He motioned towards them and Seokjin was visibly confused, “What’s y/n doing with Yubin?”

“Y/n is with Yubin?” All three made their way into the cafe, trying their hardest to be inconspicuous. They ordered small items, and slowly made way to a table opposite of them. So far everything looked calm. In Jimin’s opinion something in Yubin looked defensive and rigid.

Seokjin 01:30

We found her. She’s at the cafe with Yubin.

Seokjin found it a bit masochistic of his friend, to be here with the person who is saying they slept with their boyfriend. But knowing Y/n, this is probably a last ditch effort to find out what exactly is going on.

Seokjin sees Jungkook pass by, and flags him down. He makes hand motions to be inconspicuous and hopes he understands. The way Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sight of them, he immediately becomes hyper aware of his surroundings. Jungkook attempts to make himself as small as possible, and slithers on the sidelines. He sneaks up on the boys and tries to hide behind Seokjin and Yoongi. “Has anything happened?”

They all shake their head no and Jimin whispers,” They’ve been talking a little too calmly for the last 20 minutes. It’s a little worrying to be honest.”

They watch Y/N pull out her phone and show Yubin the screen. They immediately see a change in Yubin, her eased demeanor cracks looking at what Y/N shows her. “What do you think Y/N is showing Yubin?” Yoongi whispered. Jungkook has an idea of what it could be, “It might be the screenshots I showed Y/N.”

“Screenshots?” Seokjin asked

Jungkook nodded, “I meant it when I said I wasn’t anything with Yubin. I showed Y/N everything.”

Seokjin and Yoongi sighed in relief, Jimin was still hesitant. While he knows the history between them, that still doesn’t mean Jungkook was honest about their past relationship, if you could call it that. Taehyung had told Jimin not to be harsh with Jungkook. It’s not his fault Yubin was the way she was, and they’ve tried to call her out on her behavior without any success. Taehyung said while yes, Jungkook should have been honest about his past with Yubin, it wasn’t anything serious. They never had a relationship, and only had their first intimacy with each other based on mutual trust. Jimin didn’t want to budge.

“What do you know?” They all turn their attention to Yubin’s raised voice. “Should we do something?” Yoongi hissed. Jimin shook his and responded, “Only if they get a bit more aggressive.”

“Have you ever felt connected to someone to the point you’d do anything to stay with them? You don’t understand what I feel!”

Jungkook is starting to get nervous. Yubin has never been a physically violent person, verbally mean absolutely, but the way her hands are whitening at the sheer grip she has on the table says otherwise.

Seokjin has had his fair share of upset women in his life. Comes with the territory of being a T.A. and his mother’s friends trying to set him up with their children. All those instances could not have gotten him ready for this type of situation. Should Yubin lay a hand on Y/N he knows she’d defend herself, but if it got too out of hand he knows he’d have to step in as the oldest. He’s never had to get between Y/N and altercation and he hopes today isn’t that day.

“Leave us alone, they are mine. They are my friends, they are going to be with me as long as I can keep them.” Yubin abruptly stood up and sneered at Y/N. “Stay away from them.” In a split second Y/N’s head shifts to the side and a loud smack sounds through the cafe.

Instantly all four are out of their seats and go directly to their table. Before either of them could realize the guys were there a loud smack rang through once more. “Don’t you ever put your hands on me.”

Jungkook could see Yubin was absolutely seething. He and Yoongi pulled Y/N towards them along with her bag.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We were looking for you because you hadn’t responded to our texts. We saw you were in here while we passed by and wanted to make sure you were okay.” Jimin responded.

“Well you found me and I’m going home.” Y/n tried rushing out. She could feel the stares of all the patrons. She grabs her bag from Yoongi and quickly makes her way out, ignoring the barista trying to check on her.

One by one the guys made their way out, each one apologizing to the baffled employees. Trying to make his way through, Jungkook is pulled back by Yubin. He pulls away, and rushes to catch up to the guys and Y/n. He can hear the quick clacking of Yubin trying to catch up to them. He wants, no he needs to speak with Y/n. He needs to make sure she’s okay.

“Y/-“

“Jungkook! Stop ignoring me!” Yubin screeches.

He keeps ignoring Yubin, and finally catches us to Y/n. Jimin looks behind him, and sees Yubin making her way towards them. Jimin motions his head towards her, “You have to get rid of her Jeon. If she gets close to us I’m going to go off on her.” Jimin pulls Y/n away from the commotion and whispers words of comfort.

Jungkook nods and turns to face Yubin. He decides to meet her halfway and instantly regrets it “Jungkook, stop walking away from me! Why do you keep ignoring me? I’ve been trying to talk to you and Joonie, but both of you don’t answer.” She crashes into him, and starts to breath heavily. “Did you see what she did to me? I was trying to talk to her, and she hit me!” she sobbed. She started to cling onto him more, and attempted to wrap his arms around her. “No, Yubin” he mumbled, “We’re done.”

“You’re done with her? Oh good, maybe you can talk with Joon, and we can get this situation figured out. Then may-“

“No,” he interrupts her, “Yubin, we’re done. Us being friends, I can’t do it anymore.” He gently gets her hands off his shirt, and pushes her away from him.

“What do you.. what do you mean done? We’ve been friends since kindergarten. We can’t stop being friends. What about Namjoon? Are you going to stop being his friend too?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “Joon is still my friend Yubin. I, we can’t be friends with you anymore. What you’re doing is not okay. It’s never been okay. Yes, the three of us have been friends for a long time, but you’re not who you used to be Binnie. I don’t know who you are anymore, and I don’t want to be friends with the person you are now.”

He could see Yubin go from heartbroken to completely livid. “Are you fucking kidding me!” she screamed “ I did this for you! For Namjoon!” She enunciated by slamming her fists to Jungkook’s chest. Yubin slowly started to sob heavily. She tried to explain her reasoning between her cries, but her words came out mumbled.

Jungkook didn’t know what to do. Should he help her calm down? Should he call one of her friends? Should he walk away? He decides to pull Yubin to the side, and wait for her to at least get back to breathing normally. He whispers to her how to control her breathing, and hopes that’s enough to calm her down. He waits a few more moments, and decides it’s time for him to leave.

As he starts to walk away Yubin pulls on his sleeve “Kookie please don’t leave.” For a tiny moment, Jungkook sees the Yubin he was friends with years ago. Jungkook removes Yubin’s hand from his shirt and starts the walk back to campus.

A/N: geez haven’t posted in a hot minute. Time passes by when you’re an adult lol. We’re almost to the end y’all! If you have any feedback pls let me know!

Tag list: @papamochiissad @smoljams @betysotelo18 @atomickokorox @xxxanimangxxx @icedoutmywristtitanic @lyndseygoregasmxo @beeeb05 @glossyrere @nanskidoodle

Masterlist

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All That Was Fair

Chapter 15: The Woman of Balnain

Summary: Jamie finally sits down with a certain book.

Read on AO3

Read chp 15 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, masterlist, next

They spent the afternoon in lazy bliss. Together, they’d gone into the kitchen where Jamie had shown her how to whip up a burrito. Although most of it clearly went over her head, she had such a good time that she asked to make something else directly after he finished eating.

After a brief explanation on how humans get full after eating, he gave in and offered to show her how to make cookies.

Jamie felt distantly like his life had turned into a romcom as they baked cookies together. When Claire bumped him teasingly on the side, he grabbed a handful of flour and chucked it straight at Claire. Her mouth fell open in mock dismay before an impish gleam shone in her eye. Jamie learned that afternoon the true reason the word “impish” had originated to describe the fair folk.

Claire was mischievous and exuberant in her retaliations. Handful after handful of baking supplies had been lobbed in his direction, shoved down his clothing, mussed into his hair, and even discreetly snuck into his pockets when he was later occupied with sticking the baking sheets of cookies in the oven. Long after their initial food fight had ended, Claire continued their little game.

Later that afternoon while they sat together on the couch (the faerie’s legs draped over his, Jamie’s hands shoved under his own legs in order to keep from caressing her soft skin that was right there), Claire had produced a handful of oats from nowhere and shoved them down his collar. He’d flung her legs off, grabbed her waist, and threw her over his shoulder without a second thought as she squealed and thrashed. Stalking to the kitchen like a caveman with his prize draped over him, he unceremoniously plopped her down and then dumped an entire bowl of excess flour over her head.

“I give up,” she screeched, smacking blindly at his chest with her flour-caked face still screwed up, puffs of powder exploding from her lips.

“Promise? No more surprise attacks when I let down my guard?” he asked guardedly, trying to keep his grin out of his voice.

“You have my word,” she promised. She gave him a grave, floury nod.

Feeling quite magnanimous now that he’d won, Jamie grabbed a dishtowel, wet it, and then approached Claire.

He cupped the back of her head, feeling her curls tangling between his fingers, and gently wiped the flour from her face. Once her eyelids had been cleaned, she opened them and stared up at him with a soft look. His bones felt like they had been turned to water to be receiving such a look, and he struggled to focus on the task at hand as he tenderly dabbed at the spots of flour still left on her face. She stayed quiet, just looking at him and allowing him to clean up the mess he’d made.

How he loved her.

When the moment finally broke, their gazes tearing apart, Jamie inspected her hair.

“No way I’m gettin’ this out of these curls. Do ye want a shower, a nighean?”

“I would never say no to a shower,” she beamed.

So, he’d graciously turned it on for her and then explained that he was going to get some work done. Leaving her to it knowing full well that she’d be in there for a long time, he headed for his office.

But it wasn’t work he had in mind.

There was another matter tickling at his brain. One he’d been itching at for far too long. He’d barely had time to breathe, let alone sit down and address it, until just this minute.

He needed to read the book that the eccentric bookstore owner had shoved into his hands.

Unsure how to explain the strange interaction to Claire and disinclined to possibly worry her over nothing, Jamie still hadn’t mentioned anything about it. He’d been waiting to read it until he had a moment alone.

Settling into his office chair, Jamie stared down at the cover of the mysterious book. He was motionless for a few seconds, feeling a strange uneasiness.

The title was The Woman of Balnain. It was short, perhaps a novella, and the description on the back said that it was about a time-traveling lass. Why would the mysterious Geillis give this to him?

He was just about to start into reading, but as he opened the book, several sheets of paper suddenly fluttered out and onto his lap. Warily, he picked them up, turning them over to see what appeared to be hastily scrawled notes.

The words at the top made him draw a sharp breath.

“The Standing Stones of Craigh na Dun.”

The following notes seemed like a jumble to Jamie, the words swimming together in his mind in his haste to take them all in. He began to read so fast that several times he had to pause and reread. Geillis— at least he assumed that she was the author of these notes— wrote about planes of reality, magnetic fields, magical properties of the standing stones...

And below that was another section that was entitled “traveling.”

Gemstones. One could travel from this plane to another— through the stones— by use of gemstones. According to this, only some people (or fae, he supposed) could travel. But those who could had discovered that gemstones ensured their safety.

His hand was shaking so hard that he dropped the papers entirely. He brought his trembling hands up to bury his face into them. The gravity of the situation sat heavy on his shoulders as the realization descended.

If this was true, he’d just been handed the way to get Claire back home.

*

What followed was perhaps an hour of frantic, mind-bending sorting of thoughts. He read and re-read over and over, trying to ensure that he truly had understood the implications of the document. But no matter how many times he reviewed the words on the page, the meaning was clear: If Claire had a gemstone, she could safely use the stones to return to her plane. To her people and her life. Away from him.

But then he spiraled into doubt. How did he know he could trust this mysterious Geillis and her instructions? But as much as he wanted to deny it— to dismiss the entry as garbage and all thoughts of Claire leaving along with it— he couldn’t ignore the feeling in his wame that this was the truth any more than he could refute the fact that Claire deserved a shot at returning home. Besides, something about Geillis had seemed odd… mystical perhaps. Not in the same way Claire did, but he certainly believed that whoever (or whatever) the bookkeeper was, she knew a hell of a lot more about this stuff than he did. And she’d known about Claire. So in the end, while he wasn’t certain that she was a friend per se, he thought it likely she was at least an ally— and he believed what was written on the page was the truth.

Once Jamie had addressed comprehension and credibility, he moved on to his sorrow.

Grief over the thought of losing Claire.

He was no longer lying to himself about the extent of his feelings. He was in love with her, plain and simple. Infatuated, enamored— all those things— but it went deeper than that. She’d walked her way straight into his heart and burrowed in there as sure as she did when she nestled against him in his bed. And now that she’d filled that empty space in his life, he couldn’t even imagine going back to the hollow loneliness of existence without her.

Every part of him longed not to tell her. He could crumple up the page and throw it away, or better yet, he could burn it up without a trace, and she’d be none the wiser.

But his mind swirled with images, memories eating at him that he couldn’t quite ignore. Claire crying against him only a few days ago, weeping for all she’s lost. Her trepidation as she’d faced the terrifying unknown of the city. The sheen of tears in her eyes that she’d fought back as she admitted Jenny had made her scared…

As he thought about all she’d been through since being ripped from her home, he knew that taking away the chance to return would be unfair. He wanted to be selfish— God, help him, he burned with it…

But he loved her enough to let her go.

A tear leaked out of the corner of his eye— scalding as it dripped down his cheek. He sat motionless in his office chair, his hand squeezing his opposite arm so tightly that the nails made deep red indents in his flesh, but he knew what he had to do.

He’d tell her.

Decision made, Jamie stood from his desk. His feet felt like they were encased with lead, and he was light-headed, as if all that thinking and agonizing had sucked his brain out with a straw. As horrible as he felt, he was resolved, and he made his way sluggishly downstairs.

The scene in the living room nearly shattered that decision.

Claire was asleep on his couch, all curled up and shoulders hunched under the fuzzy throw blanket she had clutched around her. Her bonny pink lips were parted just slightly and tiny whooshes of air tickled a single curl that had fallen over her face.

He ached to see her like this for the rest of his life.

Just as he was about to turn on his heel and leave her to her rest (this was not the time for such a heavy revelation), she stirred. His stubborn feet anchored him in place as he watched her shift, head lifting a bit, and her eyes blinked open.

“Hi, Jamie,” she breathed sleepily.

While giving him a fond but drowsy smile, her head nestled back down onto the throw pillow. She looked up at him with eyes that always reminded him of a fawn’s.

“Havin’ a wee rest?” He asked tenderly.

“Yes,” she breathed. She glanced him up and down appraisingly and then said, “maybe you should too. You seem tired.”

Jamie was tired. He felt like he’d been put through a meat grinder several times over. Still, he knew there was no way he’d actually sleep even if he could tear his eyes away from her long enough to close them.

But if Claire wanted a nap, and was hinting for him to join him, who was he to deny her?

He indulged his selfish desires for a moment and approached the couch so he could bend down and run a hand over Claire’s hair.

She smiled drowsily and leaned into his touch. Her eyes blinked slowly as she gazed up at him.

God, she was beautiful.

“Let’s go upstairs, mo nighean donn,” he suggested quietly.

His sleepy faerie did not seem inclined to get up. Her eyes had fallen closed again, but her hand blindly reached out for him. She caught his cheek, her fingers tracing over the stubble on his jaw.

Then, suddenly, her eyes popped open.

“Are you alright, Jamie?” she asked, her whisky gaze swimming with concern.

Her abruptness startled him, but he quickly snapped himself out of it and put on his brave face.

“I’m fine, Sassenach. Do ye want to stay on the couch or go up to bed?” he softly asked.

Her brows furrowed, disbelieving, but she firmly answered, “with you.”

He felt bad that he’d upset her but couldn’t seem to drag himself out of the cloud of depression that had wrapped around him the moment he’d decided to take her home.

But he’d have this one last time with her, and he wouldn’t ruin it with dark thoughts.

“Alright. Let’s go, mo nighean donn.”

She sat up, eyes fixed on him all the while, and then took his hand. The way she was looking at him, soft and searching, made his heart skip a few beats. He hardened himself to the overwhelming desire to pour out his heart to her, lay all the cards on the table, and beg her to stay. But he knew in his bones that this wasn’t the time.

Her thumb was tracing lightly over his knuckles, patient as he struggled inside himself.

A part of him wanted to bury his face in her neck and let her stroke his hair— she would do it, he knew. All it would take was him to make the motion, take the comfort from her.

But that wouldn’t be fair. If she saw his distress, she would feel guilty about leaving him. He loved her too much to put that burden on her.

His puir heart was breaking, but he managed to wrap it up in a thin layer of composure, scoop up his scrambled thoughts, and put himself back together. He gave her a brave smile, feigning nonchalance.

Breaking the silence, he said, “let’s go, mo calman geal.”

He took her upstairs by the hand. She was still sleepy, but not inclined to let that stop her from caring for him— even if she had no idea what was going on. He could feel her hovering anxiously by his side, trying to figure out what was wrong.

As they sat down on the bed, Claire tried to tug him down to cuddle with her, but he shook his head. Settling against the headboard instead, he guided her down to lay her head in his lap.

He wanted to watch her. Just this one last time.

Sleepy as she was, but probably even more so because she wanted to do whatever was best for him, she complied. She snuggled down into his lap and settled herself so she was comfortable.

As he carded his fingers through her hair in gentle strokes, Claire began to relax. It wasn’t long before she drifted back into sleep. The lines on her face smoothed, and she seemed to melt into him impossibly further.

His hands still moving soothingly against her, Jamie returned to his thoughts. A terrible weight rested on his shoulders as he came to a realization.

He wouldn’t be strong enough to tell her here— in his home that had become their home (at least he felt that it was theirs)— and still manage to make the drive to the stones. It was selfish to keep this from her, but he simply wouldn’t be able do it. There were limits to his goodness, and he prayed God would forgive him for this one.

So, with his mind made up, a plan began to form.

He would tell her tomorrow that they were going for a hike. They’d drive out to the stones, and he would explain once they got there. His Grandfather’s ruby ring laid on his dresser— that would be what he’d give her to ensure safe passage. And then… then, she’d go home.

And that was that.

This was his last night with her.

He looked down and studied her face for a long time, trying to memorize every tiny detail. He knew it would be the remembrance of her that would warm him on the cold, lonely days that would surely follow. He traced her face reverently, first with his eyes, and then as his selfish, breaking heart took over, with soft touches of his fingertips.

All that was left was to pray that tomorrow he would have the strength to send her away.

***

A/n: I believe now is the time for me to hide 😳

Next

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Confessions Part 4

Catch up on Confessions

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Book: The Nanny Affair

Characters: Marie Castro x Sam Dalton, Jordan Le, Jenny

Rating/Warning: Teen+, Some Adult Language

Word Count: 2,339 +

Song Mention:

You Oughta Know By Alanis Morissette

Si Una Vez By Selena

Summary: After a breakup, Marie seeks her best friend out.

A/N: Songs that were mentioned are in italic. Tried to my best to translate the part of Si Una Vez as best I could.

Tag: @thenannyaffair-fanfics

Characters belong to Pixelberry

********

Marie patiently waited for her friend to respond to her message. If anyone can help make things better it was her best friend.

Jenny squeals as soon as she swings the door open, really finding her best friend standing before her with a new look.

“Marie, how is it possible for you to look like a thousand times better in person?” Jenny hugs her tightly, gently pulling at the ends of her hair, not knowing if she really just a chopped off a good amount of her hair.

“You can stop pulling my hair. I really did cut it.” She laughs at her friend. “Are you gonna let me in? The champagne is waiting.”

Jenny releases her, pushing her to arms length, really taking in her friends new look. Skin tight black pleather pants paired with black Louboutin pumps, a revenge red colored crop top and her newly cut hair.

Jenny drags her by the hand and leads them into the apartment, slamming the door behind them.

“Don’t kill me Marie, but you didn’t happen to bring any orange juice?” Jenny asks, making her way across the island.

Marie shakes her head at her best friend, she wasn’t surprised Jenny didn’t have anything in her apartment. She had been the one who would stock up the fridge and cabinets with food. If it had been up to Jenny, they would only have vodka in the freezer. One she would bet a good amount of money on that being the only thing in the freezer right now.

“Jenny, do you at least have something to nibble on while we drink?” Marie asks.

She places the two bottles of champagne down on the counter, watching Jenny open and close the cabinets, then moves to the fridge.

“Here put this one in the fridge while I open this one. We’ll just order something to be delivered.” She tells Jenny, handing her one of the bottles.

“I have apples.. well an apple.” Jenny points to her sad looking fruit basket.

“One that seems to be well past being edible. it’s beginning to shrivel up.”

The popping sound of the cork makes Jenny jump, pulling out two glasses and handing them to Marie. After pouring and ordering some food, Marie kicks off her heels and takes her usual spot on the sofa, when one of them is going through a breakup, tucking one leg under the other. Jenny takes the opposite side of the sofa.

“What do we toast too?” Jenny asks.

“The future.”

Marie raises her glass to meet her friends, clinking their glasses together. Jenny eyes her with some concern, wondering what her friend had been through in the last twelve hours or so.

“To the future.”

Jenny takes a good drink of the champagne, while Marie tosses her full glass back, the bubbles tickling the back of her throat, leaving it empty and reaching for the bottle to pour more.

“So Marie, what the hell happened? Wasn’t everything going well between you two?” Jenny asks while tapping her well manicured nails on the fluted glass, impatiently waiting for her to answer.

“Is this situation fit for just drinking champagne? Or do I pull out the Vodka from the freezer?”

“It’s a start. It’ll get the job done.” She gives Jenny a wide grin. “Like I told you, it’s over between me and Sam.”

“How? Why?” Jenny sits up a bit straighter, again waiting for an explanation.

“Sam caught me kissing Jordan.” Marie tosses another glass back. “No.. No..” She wiggles her finger at Jenny “Sam walked in on Jordan kissing me.”

“Why would Jordan do that?”

“He confessed he has feeling for me.”

“No!” Jenny mouths drops open at the revelation.

Marie just nods her head. Last night coming back to her, making her head spin. “That’s not all, he told me Sam was seeing Lana behind my back.”

“That uptight blonde from the house warming party, the mother of one of Mason’s friends?” Jenny asks.

“The one and the same.”

“I’m gonna need you to start from the beginning and everything in between that led you to..to this new look and you chugging champagne like its grape juice.” Her friend said.

Taking a deep breath, Marie began the events of last night from Jordan surprising her at work to him telling her how he feels about her. The moment Sam walked in on them, him storming out, not waiting to hear an explanation of what he saw. It felt like she had been talking for hours, the one break Marie took was to get the other bottle of champagne while Jenny got the food they ordered.

“You need to try this hash..it's amazing.” Jenny hands her the container, as she takes the one Marie had in her hands.

“He just walked away. Left me there standing like a fool. All because he wants space. Because I believe or believed he would cheat on me. But look at how we started, Jen. He was engaged.” Taking a spoonful of the corned beef hash, the different textures from soft to crispy pieces to the exploding flavors of the salty, spiced and sour make her moan in agreement with Jenny.

“Sweetie, don’t get mad at me but.. are you sure he wanted to end things?”

Marie notices a shift in her friend, shaking her head at Jenny. She played Sam’s words again and again last night.

“I’m positive. He wanted to slow things down, wanted space. As far as I know we’re done.”

Jenny stayed silent.

“You don’t understand, wanting to slow things down from a relationship in the dark, a relationship a handful of people knew about. That’s what he meant Jen.” Marie snaps at her.

“Ok.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to..” Marie trails off.

“Don’t worry about it. Besides I got something, that always works.”

The look that appeared on Jenny’s face was a mischievous one, one she knew all too familiar, it was the same one she would give her when Jenny was going through a rough time with a guy.

Getting up from the sofa she walks away, coming back in a few seconds with a full bottle of vodka. She grabs her phone, connecting it to the sound system.

Marie hid her face in the palms of the hands, knowing what was about to come. “Oh no!! no..no..no!” She shook her head.

“yes…yes.. yes” Jenny begins to dance before the music starts. “Come on Marie, this song has gotten us..ok mostly me through breakups.”

The beat of Alanis Morissette’s ‘You oughta Know’ fills the apartment..

An older version of me

Is she perverted like me

Would she go down on you in a theater

Marie began bobbing her head to the beat as the song went on, until she jumps up and stands on top of the couch with Jenny, the both of them singing at the top of their lungs.

And every time I scratch

My nails down someone else’s

Back I hope you feel it

Well can you feel it

Well I’m here to remind you

Of the mess you left when

You went away…You

You..oughta know

As the song comes to an end, adrenaline runs through Marie, ok mostly the alcohol they had been drinking. But at this point it’s what she needed to get every feeling out of her system. Jenny’s breakup playlist continues to play and after finishing the second bottle of champagne, they made it to the bottle of vodka

They didn’t care how loud they were singing or the noise they made from dancing and the things that hit the floor after bumping into them. It was something they did, two best friends trying to help the other navigate through this moment in life.

“There’s a song.. a song.. I want to add..add..yeah” The words coming out of Marie’s mouth a bit slurred.

She grabbed the phone from the coffee table, trying to focus on searching for the song. Swaying back and forth, she jumped with drunken glee once having found it. The Marachi/Cumbia infused ballad came through the speakers, her hips moving to the Cumbia beat.

“Yass.. Get it girl.” Jenny encouraged her as she sat down, taking a little breather.

Marie did her best Selena impression, twisting and doing flamenco moves. She began singing.

Yo, Te di todo mi amor y más

(I gave you all my love and more)

Y tú, No reconoces ni lo que es amar

(And you won’t recognize what it is to love)

Si una vez dije que te amaba, hoy me arrepiento

(If I told you once that I loved you. Today, I regret it)

Si una vez dije que te amaba, no sé lo que pensé, estaba loca

(If I told you once that I loved you. I don’t know what I was thinking, I must’ve been crazy)

Si una vez dije que te amaba

(If I told you that I loved you)

Y que por ti la vida daba

(And that I’d give my life for you)

Si una vez dije que te amaba, no lo vuelvo a hacer

(If I told you that I’d loved you. I won’t do it again)

Ese error es cosa de ayer

(It was an error that was made in the past)

Jenny cheered her on until the end, not knowing what her best friend just sang and danced her heart out too.

After a moment of trying to catch her breath, she watched as Marie fell to her knees and began crying, her body shaking as it released every emotion she had bottled up. The act of trying to be strong came crashing down around her. She went to her and hugged her, whispering that it’ll all be ok.

******

Once she had sobered up somewhat, Marie called an Uber to take her back home, against Jenny’s best efforts to try and make her stay. They had come to an agreement of her moving back in. She wasn’t going to live in a place Sam was paying for besides she couldn’t afford the rent on her salary.

Making her way to her apartment, her vision a bit impaired, she fumbled through her bag for the keys, jingling as they fell to the floor.

“Shit.”

Bending down to get them, she stumbles a bit to the side, balancing herself against the wall before she could trip and fall over her own feet. The vodka and champagne still running through her system, she could make it, once she got up it was only a few more steps, she told herself.

Marie noticed a pair of shoes making their way towards her, her gaze began to travel until they stopped on grey eyes, his lips a thin line. He was reaching down to help her.

“I don’t need your help!” She put a hand out, stopping him before he could touch her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Come on Marie, let me help you up.” Sam voiced calmly but filled with a bit of concern for her well being. “How did you get here? How much have you had to drink? And your hair, it looks..”

“What’s it to you? I’m a bit more sober then I was earlier. I’m perfectly..perfectly fine.”

Marie stood up too quickly and stumbled, she felt Sam wrap an arm around her waist, supporting her weight against his body. Grabbing her keys, he leads them into her apartment.

“Just stand there for a moment while I lock the door. I’ll take you to bed..I mean..uh help you into bed.”

“I’m fine Sam, I’m inside this beautiful penthouse you got for your mistress.” She twirls around, showing him the space around her. “So, you can see your way out. You can stand on the other side of the door to make sure it gets locks.” Marie hiccups, maybe she wasn’t as sober as she thought.

“I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re ok.”

Sam makes his way past her, grabbing her by the wrist and leading her towards the bedroom. Letting her go, he begins tossing pillows off the bed keeping just two. He pulls back the comforter to allow her to crawl in.

“Oh that’s real nice of you Mr. Dalton. Do you do that for all your employees?” Marie asked staring at him as he reaches for her.

“Get into bed, you need to sleep your over-indulgence off. I’ll be here when you wake.”

Marie starts to undress, pulling her top over her head.

“What are you doing?” The words coming out as a raspy whisper from Sam.

Marie stares at the man that left her. She was going to show him what he was going to miss. She began by taking off the heels that had been killing her since putting them back on. She unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, slowly lowering them and stepping out of them. Marie stood there in a see through black lace bralette and matching thong.

She could feel Sam’s burning gaze taking her in. She heard his breathing hitch and a smile came across her lips.

“I’m just getting ready for bed, Mr. Dalton. Just like you said.” She says coyly.

Walking pass him, running her finger tips across his chest. She climbs into bed, the softness of her sheets envelope her semi-naked body.

As she begins to doze off, the side of the bed shifts under her. “What are you doing here?” She asked him again.

She didn’t hear Sam respond, so she kept going.

“You shouldn’t be here. It’s over between us.” She yawns as her eyes begin too close. “Sam? Are you still here?”

Marie could feel her back pressing against the side of his leg. Sam caresses the newly cut strands of her hair.

“I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere..” He whispered.

“Can you do one last thing for me?”

“Whatever it is, I’ll do it Marie..I’m sorr..”

“Don’t fire Jordan.” She said before her eyelids became too heavy to keep open and slips into a deep slumber.

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Once you get a taste

Pairing: Jennie x Rosé

Prompt:Rosé whispers a secret Jennie finds herself quite interested in. Under the weight of soft music, dim lights, and a few glasses of soju, the groupmates get to know each other better.

Warnings: Slight mature content

(cr: pinterest)

“…And the guy asked me to jump. In the middle of the photoshoot. In eight-inch heels. Wearing jewelry four men with surgical gloves had just put around my neck as it was, I don’t know, made of crystal or something. I swear I don’t know who looked at the photographer with the most ‘fuck no’ expression: me or them”.

Jennie chuckles vividly, titling her head back in a sharp motion.

Slightly tipsy Rosé is always a wonder.

They are celebrating their first free day after long months of work in the dorm, just the two of them. Lisa had taken advantage of the relieving weekend to see her parents and Jisoo had done exactly the same, eager to spend time with her nephew to teach him invaluable lessons, she had claimed. Jennie had wondered faintly whether she was talking about true values or some secret curse words, and she had quickly decided that her friend intended to do both.

The big house seemed somehow empty without the loudest members, but Rosé’s casual singing and their short conversations, the ones that have flowed between them swiftly since the moment they met, were enough for the upbeat atmosphere of the place to remain strong.

Their recent success was of course of great help. The boost they received both from fans and critics gave the group a warm shower of confidence that made their smiles grow larger still every now and then. They worked hard, and their efforts did not get wasted.

That is the reason, mainly, why Jennie and Rosé are currently sitting on a soft mattress on the floor, soju glasses filling and emptying on the sturdy coffee table just in front of them, both girls laughing openly at shared stories that make their chests spurt affection.

“So, did you jump?” Jennie asks then, happy tears prickling at the corner of her sharp eyes, leaning forward intentionally and letting her shoulder bump against her groupmate’s.

“Fuck no, I- don’t laugh! It was difficult!”

Jennie breaks out laughing again, squeezing the glass she’s holding on her left hand and using the other to grasp Rosé’s arm as if to anchor herself. The silver-haired girl follows suit, sharing the shortest girl’s pure excitement, somewhat glad to be the source of such demonstration of contentment.

“God. I would’ve loved to be there. Remind me to go with you to your next photoshoot”.

Rosé keeps smiling, now her expressive eyes growing softer.

“I will”.

There is a moment of comfortable silence filled by the deep beat of a slow, electric song. The girls have decided to give in their indie cravings just half an hour ago, and now the chosen playlist is serving as an enjoyable background for their encounter.

“I like that”, Rosé comments softly, turning her head up to stare at the thousand colorful dots tracing patterns on the ceiling.

“A fan gift. One of my favorites. I use it when I can’t sleep”.

The silver-haired girl admires the light for a while longer, feeling a fuzzy sensation crawling up in her stomach.

She feels so, so fitting.

She turns around to talk to her friend, and she is kind of surprised to find the brunette her staring mutely into her eyes. Jennie’s cat-like stare burns somehow, caressing her features tenderly.

Something flashes in her coffee gaze, a bright emotion that catches Rosé out of guard, like a soft pang making her heartbeat pick up.

Just as it comes, it leaves quickly, and Jennie smiles lazily again.

“You have your own galaxy”, Rosé jokes weakly, then, rushing to drown the soju that still waits in her cup.

The shortest girl lets her hand run through her own silky dark locks still grinning, almost as if for herself, and reaching forward to catch the definitely too expensive bottle in front of her, she turns towards her friend almost as if on the verge of revealing a secret.

“It’s ours, now. Isn’t it, Rosie?”

Rosé might have as well chocked on her spit only by hearing Jennie’s low voice, but now, with alcohol dancing daringly through her veins, she merely blushes slightly before giggling in sudden joy.

“True”. The blonde watches Jennie’s delicate hands refilling both their glasses with a delicacy she firmly believes can only be inherited, and then lets her ears catch on the soft tune vibrating from the speakers. “How are you, by the way? I’m surprised you didn’t want to say home tonight”.

With home Rosé means home home, as in her mother’s home, and Jennie seems to understand perfectly.

“It seemed just right to stay here. I prefer it, sometimes. It’s familiar, too”.

The silver-haired hums in agreement, letting bold liquid run hot through her throat. “Me too. I love my parents, but this also feels right. After all we went through… well…” she looks down at her glass and then lets her coffee gaze meet Jennie’s intense stare. “I don’t know. I like spending time with you”.

“Almost like sisters…” Jennie comments, but her voice comes out a bit too breathy to appear certain. It’s more like a question, exploring, like her hand inching closer Rose’s thigh.

The tallest girl licks her lips unintentionally, her body sinking deeper against the feet of the couch.

“Yes, but… Not quite, really”, there is a tense pause, and Rosé can almost hear the faint beat growing deeper, “right”?

Jennie hums in a sound that comes closer to a purr and finally lets her fingertips press against Rose´s exposed skin.

The tallest girl suppresses a surprising shiver as she wonders whether she should have worn a longer dress.

Or a shorter one.

“Not quite”, the brunette agrees, still staring at her friend with a sparkling stare.

Rosé swallows, feeling a hot flush heating up her neck, and rushes to drink a bit more of the transparent beverage already making her limbs feel lighter.

There is no way, Rosé. Come on. This is fucking Jennie, dam it.

There is another pause. The dim lights change slowly, creating another pattern that becomes bluish. Jennie inhales deeply, feeling pleasantly warm, the fabric of her simple white shirt sticking against her collarbones, and she takes another sip before analyzing her friend’s features again.

Gorgeous, she thinks, and lets her fingers caress a bit more of the tender skin of her thigh.

“Do you miss Australia, Rosie?”

The silver-haired girl tilts her head as if pulled away from her own thoughts. She looks at Jennie with pensive eyes and a cute pout drawing on her reddened lips.

“A bit… some things”, she whispers.

Jennie catches the sound of one of her favorite songs. Rose’s scent flowery grows somehow stronger, dazzling.

“Like what?” the brunette asks.

Rosé squirms almost imperceptibly. A thought, an unwanted one crosses her mind immediately. She scrunches her nose in an attempt to put it away, to find a reasonable answer to Jennie’s enquiries, but the soju has already started to occupy her mind with a pleasant yet undefeatable mist.

“Oh... Uh- the climate”, she blurts out, putting a strand of hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture.

The shortest girl licks her lips as her sharp gaze turns predatory. She tries to soften the immediate smirk that reaches her mouth, observing as Rosé twitches in her place with terribly concealed nervousness.

“Oh, come on. You must miss something else. A country with such different culture… I’m sure there’s a call burning inside you. Tell me”, she speaks softly, trying to keep her tone light, “I can keep a secret”.

The silver-haired girl lets her wide gaze fall on her friend’s calm expression, trying to ignore the sneaky fingers caressing up her upper thigh.

There is something that she has been missing, definitely. Something she was never courageous enough to bring up. Something that she has buried deep in the back of her mind to keep it there until her career is secure enough.

But Jennie’s cat eyes are still tracing her features in affectionate patience, and her nails are now scratching circles in her waist. She feels light, slightly dizzy, with alcohol warming up her cheeks comfortably. The night is stiffy and the bright shapes on the ceiling are so beautiful that she feels as if secluded, safe in the refugee they created whilst breaking in giggles.

She considers that she can trust Jennie. There is very little she has heard the brunette judging other people for.

“I”, she starts with a cough, “There is something. Back in Australia, when I was still a teenager I had this… friend. Female friend”.

Jennie hums as pure amusement begins to dance in her stare.

“We would… you know. Just… explore… each other”.

“Oh”, the brunette murmurs, and Rosé turns to face her eyes in a mixture of embarrassment and fear. The fingertips caressing her waist move to her left hipbone. It feels nice.

Jennie’s expression, rather than showing disgust, drips interest as she tilts her head softly. When her light-brown hair falls onto her shoulder, the pale expanse of her neck is displayed like a prize. The tallest girl needs to remind herself that she doesn’t do it in purpose.

“Yeah. It was… fun”

The brunette snorts lightly. Rosé sips onto her glass once again.

“I bet it was, darling. I thought you were a church girl, though”.

Rosé, suddenly animated both by her friend’s heady voice and the liquid burning through her veins breaks in a slow smirk.

Jennie licks her lips again, gazing into enticing red.

“Yeah… where do you think I met her?”

Jennie gasps slightly before letting out a surprised chuckle. It sounds deep and satisfied, and it mixes perfectly with the slow beat playing in the room.

“My, my, Rosie. Aren’t you… risky?”

Rosé shrugs, smiling in sudden pride. She feels Jennie’s hand twitching against her hips, so she decides to caress the length of her arm in return.

“I don’t know. It was quite natural. Then I got here and… well. It’s not like I could continue”.

There is a moment of silence that, although not uncomfortable, is suddenly charged with a shift in the air. It gets hotter. The lights turn red and purple. Rosé’s heartbeat starts to gain speed against her chest, as now unrepressed memories of playtime hours with her childhood friend swirl in her hazy mind.

“So you’ve never made out with any of the other trainees back when we were living all together?”

Rosé stares at Jennie almost as if confused. Her blunt nails trace the path marked by the brunette’s veins. She feels the way her touch raises goosebumps.

“Huh, no… did… you?”

Jennie’s eyes burn into Rose’s coffee stare.

“No. As a matter of fact…” she is showing off that damn smirk and the tallest girl can barely hold it together, “I’ve never kissed a girl. I’m curious”.

Rosé makes an effort not to squeeze her thighs together. She sees how Jennie’s pupils grow darker, wider, more cat-like than ever. She is enjoying herself openly; everything from her bold body language and the way her fingers run through her friend’s inner thighs makes wild desire bloom in the silver-haired girl’s stomach.

In any other situation, Rosé would be blushing madly, making her way out of the room hastily.

At that moment, with the heavy atmosphere attaching hypnotically against her skin, she decides that she might as well give Jennie what she seems to be asking for.

“Oh, it’s wonderful”, she plays, smothering her voice in a very appetizing tone, “soft and sexy. Very feminine”, she lets the warm pads of her touch run up her friend’s arms, sliding across her pointy shoulders.

“Rosie…” Jennie answers breathily, shinning with her pulse running high, “Shouldn’t you share with your unnie some of your vast knowledge? Seems only fair…”

She inches closer to her friend, her face tilted captivatingly, already letting her gaze fix on the tallest girl’s lips.

“Unnie, of course”, Rosé answers, and lets her worries drown in the alcohol blazing her blood, “Anything you’d like”.

And just like that, Jennie leans forwards to catch Rosé’s open mouth in a deep kiss.

It is immediately heated. The tallest girl’s warm, ragged breath invades the brunette’s space like a spell. A firm hand grasping her neck keeps her in place, and a slim arm wraps around her waist urgently.

In response, Jennie feels her own pulse palpitating against her eardrums. She lets her hand caress her friend’s collarbones before sliding them into her rich silver hair when the tallest girl angles her jaw differently.

The lights grow darker in a blissful moment and the brunette finds herself being guided by Rosés insistent indents. Her thighs come to trap Rose’s as she seeks comfort on the tallest girl’s lap. When the silver-haired girl sucks lightly on her lower lip, Jennie grinds down instinctively, a mewl-like sound bursting from her throat.

They both know that they should be thinking about their current situation further. It’s a thought shadowing the very, very back of their hazy minds, but it’s difficult to give it presence when the warmth of their bodies grows steadily in a boost of pure want.

Jennie has to gasp when Rosés plump lips descend lower, grazing her cheek, her chin, her jaw. Her fingers tangle in soft blonde hair as she tilts her head up to grant her more access, asking her silently to comply with the deep desire that has just born low in her stomach.

Rosé does not need to be told twice. She runs her mouth down her friend’s throat, delighting in her expensive scent, running blunt nails through luscious thighs.

“Oh”, Jennie murmurs, and it’s enough for the blonde’s foggy mind to find some clearance.

She pulls away almost as if terrified, her movements put into a halt. She feels the tickles of panic and slight shame heating up her cheeks.

In exchange, the brunette opens her eyes lazily, revealing a stern expression behind her sharp eyes, her mouth curling downwards in visible annoyance.

Rosé is about to beg for forgiveness, but Jennie speaks first.

“What’s going on?” she asks, her hand pressing against the tallest girl’s nape, “Thought you were going to be my teacher”, she adds then, her voice searching for a lower, much more suggestive tone.

It takes the blonde two seconds to catch on with the reality that Jennie wants this, too. Very much so, given by the way her hips grind down again, almost as if on their own accord.

Rosé smiles, then, slow, and dangerous, feeling the last shreds of the self-control she was so desperately holding into getting looser in her chest. Her hands inch forwards, nails slipping under the hem of the brunette’s shorts. She looks up at her with an analyzing stare, delighting on Jennie’s compliant expression.

“Well, of course”, she answers, her words coming breathier as her wide eyes reflect a playful darkness, “but I must warn you, this might be a long lesson, unnie”.

Jennie finds herself chuckling lowly, closing her eyes as Rosé’s teeth run just sharp enough against her shoulder.

“Of course”, she lets out, and forces herself to choke a whining sound when the blonde tongues her stuttering pulse point, “I’ll be a good student”.

Rosé just smiles widely before pulling the shortest girl down for another toe-curling kiss.

Jennie turns out to be quite a brilliant student, indeed.

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Aqua eyes slowly opened, and a hand reached to a pair of glasses nearby. Maxwell blinked a few times, adjusting to the light streaming through his curtains. And then he paused.

There, sprawled out on his couch, was Andrew. Sleeping peacefully, a piece of sheet music held over his chest. He looked very sunny, with rays reflecting on his hair and making his cheeks glow. Maxwell sat on the edge of his bed, still in yesterday’s clothes, and gazed at the other man a little longer.

Nothing had happened, other than them staying up far too late to keep working on the piece, which they had finished. Luckily it was the weekend, and while they had slept late, they had slept well. Maxwell checked the clock. Eleven. Stretching his arms above his head and throwing on a robe, he went to the kitchen and began to make breakfast.

He thought about the day before. What had happened to wanting to bring the hammer down? He had investigated Andrew a grand total of once, and even then, what had he done- look around his house a bit? Read over the obligatory and lifeless reports on him from the police department? And yet even that pathetic inkling of progress had been squashed as soon as he looked into Andrew’s indigo eyes.

Meanwhile, those same eyes were just beginning to open on the couch upstairs. He sat up with a start, before recognizing his surroundings and relaxing. He rubbed his eyes and looked around for his glasses. Stumbling his way across the room, he finally found them on Maxwell’s bedside table. Why were these here? He took a moment to remind himself that nothing like that had yet happened.

Yet. And that was the problem. Andrew wasn’t going to lie to himself, he had had a liking for Maxwell for a long time. And now he was almost certain that Maxwell felt the same, Andrew selfishly wanted more.

And yet everything screamed at him to turn back. Yes, Antigone was now the obvious reason. Who knew what he had in store? He seemed to think of Andrew as a sort of unwitting lackey. He might hurt Maxwell, might force him into the same position. Might simply manipulate him into going away. But what about the simple fact that Maxwell was a detective? Andrew had not missed the repetition of his own name on Maxwell’s case pinboard. What if this whole relationship was a ploy for information?

Maybe it didn’t matter, Andrew told himself. It was too early to tell much about these things, but it wasn’t too soon to attempt to continue the relationship, that both undeniably wanted.

As he thought, he found that he had wandered downstairs. He smelled something that had a burnt twinge to it.

“Max? Is something burning?” he called as he walked into the kitchen.

“Not anymore,” indeed, there he was, body failing to block the view of a singed frying pan dropped in a pot of water. “And did you just call me ‘Max?’”

Andrew tried and failed not to laugh. “Um. Yeah, is that okay?”

Maxwell hesitated for a moment. “I suppose I don’t see why not, if it’s just you. Just don’t confuse me for the cat.”

“Cat? What ca-” Andrew was cut off when he felt something soft and warm rub against his leg. Indeed, a black cat had taken to purring at him.

“Her name is Maxie, so you don’t get to call me that. So does this mean I can call- are you even listening to me?” Andrew hummed a yes while sitting down and petting the cat, who now had happily crawled onto his lap. Max chuckled. “I see you two are friends now. But if you’re going to call me ‘Max’ then I’m going to call you ‘Andy.’”

Another hummed a yes and a pitiful ‘no’ as the cat got up, stretched, and trotted off to find it’s water. “Sounds good to me. And…”

“Yes?”

“Maybe you should let me do the cooking and baking from now on.”

Max blushed. “Fine.”

~*~

The two had spent the day together, in Max’s library (luckily none of his siblings were around to ruin the mood). Occasionally they would stop to go on a walk or get sweets at the closed bakery.

When evening rolled around, Andy proposed the idea of a third date. There was a dance that he was invited to that evening, and he needed a partner. Max cheerfully agreed and they set to getting ready and meeting back up again when they were done.

Both looked positively dashing as they walked into the dance hall, turning a few heads. The room itself was beautiful, lit by a chandelier and decorated by all manner of gold. Mediocre in the eyes of the rich, but paradise in the eyes of the average. Someone called to Andy, to explain who his new partner was. Max laughed and dropped his grip from Andy’s elbow to his hand. And so, the music, drinking, and fun began. The two danced their way through the first few songs, laughing and talking like any other couple in the room.

“God, my feet are getting tired,” Andy laughed. “Where’d you learn to dance like this?”

Max grinned tipsily and relaxed in Andy’s arms. “My mother tried to teach me, but it was my sibling Casey who made me keep going. I suppose it paid off.”

“Hell yeah it did! I’m sure as hell glad you…” Andrew trailed off, eyes transfixed on a woman across the room. Her fiery emerald eyes shot right through him, holding his gaze and promptly sobered him up.

But just as Maxwell began to ask what was wrong, the next song started and Andrew’s mind cleared. The dance had them switch partners every thirty seconds or so.

They flitted from person to person, a cycle that eventually led Andrew to the green-eyed lady. As soon as he was up close to her. he recognized her. She was at the house he tried to burgle, just before meeting Antigone! But more than that, she was… Okay, stay calm, it’ll be okay.

She glared at him as she quickly and resentfully spoke. “Well, if it isn’t Andrew Winston. I figured you’d want to spend your evening on another heist.”

“Jennifer McAllen! I haven’t seen you since, uh, a while ago! Gee, I don’t think I know-”

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean.”

Andrew was going to ask more questions, but the music forced them to move along. But instead of continuing on, he pulled her out into the hallway. Away from prying eyes and ears, he became much more serious.

“Alright, cut the crap, Jenny. What are you talking about? What do you know?” he snapped at her.

“What don’t I know, asshole! You left me three years ago, just like that, and now you break into my house! And then you have the audacity to strut around with a goddamn detective? Especially Chapman of all people, what the hell is wrong with you!” Andrew tried to protest, but she cut him off and shoved him away.

They used to be best friends- partners in crime, even- before they had the argument. Jennifer wanted to settle down a bit as they got older, go back to her life as a higher-up, but Andrew wanted to keep going full speed ahead. They couldn’t work it out, and so one night, Andrew snuck out and drove to London, leaving Jennifer behind and taking her secrets with him.

Andrew shut up. He knew not to interrupt her when she got like this. She took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Alright, well, maybe this isn’t all bad. That pompous brat has been snooping around my life, trying to shake the skeletons out of my closet. Ones that you helped me get! So help me god, Andrew, if you don’t dump this guy and help me out, I will burn your life to the ground. Hear me?” Her words startled Andrew, and he backed away even further.

He took a moment to think and compose himself. He knew how conniving Jenny could be- he had seen it himself- but give up Maxwell to satisfy her? And then there was Antigone, who also wanted Maxwell gone. And he had shown that he was a much more violent man, over Jennifer’s scheming. The two of them combined, even if they weren’t working together, could be detrimental.

And yet, he simply wasn’t willing to let Max go.

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to give up the life I’ve built just to make you happy,” he said, beginning to walk back to the dance hall. Jennifer grabbed his wrist and dug her nails into his skin.

“If you think I’m not going to decimate you for this, you’re sorely mistaken,” she snarled.

Andrew laughed. “I know you, Jenny. And I know all your tricks.” He opened the door and took a step back inside. And then he hesitated.

“Tell you what. Since we both did some bad shit, if you get caught, I’ll give myself up too. Drop Max and everything. How ‘bout that?”

She raised an eyebrow and sneered. “Sure. But I’m going to hold you to it. I don’t believe for a second you’re going to do it on your own.”

“That’s my Gem!” He laughed. “Bring it on.” And with that, he shut the door and strode off.

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Squirt (Kai x Reader)

※ Title: Squirt

※ Businessman!AU || Businessman!Jongin || Rich people AU!

※ One-shot || Genre: Smut || Just plain smut || Squirting

※ Paring: Kai x Reader

※ Summary: When (Y/N) turned 21, Jongin, her boyfriend wanted to explore deeper into their relationship.

※ Warning(s): Age Gap

※ Word Count: 2,278

※ Note: I’m sorry I wasn’t able to keep my promise. I just didn’t have any motivation on what to write since I am also arranging my writing commissions, I hope you can check it out! I’m just gathering interest as of right now since I have not arranged my PayPal yet (probably it will be open as soon as next year starts)

※ Main Masterlist || Commissions

Just right after her 21st birthday, (Y/N) and Jongin went on a hotel suite. Being her long time lover. Their relationship is quite secretive. Of course, Jongin has a name to maintain, as a CEO of a real estate company, he would never let anyone know their relationship and ruin his reputation. Their age gap alone is problematic, what more if they know Jongin’s into BDSM? They’ve been having connections since she was 18. (Y/N) being the daughter of one of his business partners, his main contractor, Robert.

Laying on her eyes was something Jongin never thought. When he saw the girl with Robert. Coming from school and sitting in the field office working hard on her school works, he immediately fell hard on her. He even frequented her country, (Country) to just see her. He fell madly in love with her. But, just like him, she fell hard on him too. But she stops herself. Seeing him remove his safety hat, his forehead was dripping with sweat, damn! That is where she fell really hard for him.

But as a CEO, Jongin was pressured by his parents to get married.

“Jongin, baby, please get married already. Your father did not die and give this company to you if you’re just going to make it your life.” His mom said in dismay.

“But who am I going to marry?” Jongin asked. He already has someone in mind, but he doesn’t want to get married to (Y/N), yet, we mean, he can’t.

“The daughters of our business partners. There are a lot of them. Jennie and Seungyeon are really pretty.” His mother responded to him. Both women are his type, but it ain’t it.

“No. If I’m going to marry someone, I’d like that someone to be someone I want to be with forever. I want (Y/N).” When those words came out of Jongin’s mouth, his mother was shocked.

“Sweetie, no. (Y/N), she’s too young for you. Please understand that.” His mom thought of a reply. He can’t marry (Y/N) that is what his mom knows for sure.

Agreeing on a daddy-babygirl kind of relationship is intense in itself, but they never did the deed. Jongin felt bad about fucking her. - Right timing. Right after they arrive on the beautiful island of Amanpulo, Jongin will execute his other intentions. It was a night beautifully planned. Jongin has been waiting four goddamn years to execute all of this. He will surely devour the woman in front of him.

While Jongin was carrying her, - bridal style, of course, she knows it already. She knows what will happen. Jongin finally arrived at the suite’s huge bedroom, he just kicked the door open. He dropped her in the Narra wood desk. Her hands are holding on the table, scared of what is happening next. The impatient man started undoing the lace that tied the beautiful long gown together. The dress was insanely beautiful. - it was in a lavender purple, with white pearls decorated around the long beautiful train. Though admiring the beauty of the dress, Jongin wants her out of that dress. - instantly.

When the lace was done being undone, the dress instantly fell on the brown carpeted floor. But Jongin was in for a treat. The beautiful dress soon revealed the lingerie. - The oh-so cliche lingerie girls wear on the night of their lives, she was extremely waiting for it. (Y/N), herself was skeptical about wearing it. Thinking it was too risky, it was her friend Rose who suggested she wear the lingerie.

After seeing the beautiful black lace corset, hugging her curves just right, paired with matching black lace thongs and black lace stockings, Jongin’s eyes and erection were in for a treat tonight. His ever-growing member stood still, having the tight feeling in his black pants. He can’t stand it. He’s so impatient… he wants to ram his not-so-little Jongin on her little pussy.

He unbuckled his black belt immediately. Then he unzipped his pants. - Barely removing it. His hard member immediately stood up. The man didn’t wear underwear, a stupid decision on his part. His member was around 8 inches long, fat and veiny, dripping with precum. Then, he grabbed something from his pocket. - A small tube of lube. “Daddy’s gotta lube up or else I can't fit it.” He had a bigger smirk in him as he started putting lube on his hard cock.

“Why can’t you have sex with me without lube? I’m wet enough daddy, am I? I want it inside of me too, not just you.” The debutant asked him. In a very seducing voice. Where did she fucking learn that from? He asked himself. Maybe from watching porn? He continued his doubts. But hot damn! She really wants him just as much as he wanted him. From the beginning, Jongin knew she’s only stopping herself from doing that.

“Sorry baby girl, but daddy’s impatient.” Before the girl could even tell him she’s a virgin, Jongin set aside her panties. He did not even have the patience to remove it. He needs a quick release. - right here, right now. It earned a high pitched moan. He flipped her over, seeing his beautiful girl. He finally inserted his very hard cock on her wet pink folds. (Y/N) is excited and scared at the same time.

(Y/N) was quick to expect pain from Jongin. Looking that he’s already so horny and his eyes are filled with lust, she closed her eyes quickly. He saw what she was doing. So he decided to carefully insert the huge cock in her. Inch by inch. He did put the lube, just for some lubrication, though she’s really wet already. “Baby girl, please don’t worry, I won’t hurt you… and damn you’re right…” Jongin affectionately said.

Kissing her pinkish lips. It was a soft kiss, as soft as cotton candy, but the kiss was mostly tongue, she can taste the Lechon and Lechon sauce from Jongin’s mouth. He was finished drilling his cock on her tight little pussy, earning a moan from the younger woman. He started it at a devilishly slow pace. “Daddy please faster! Let’s move to the bed…” She grabbed his back that was still heavily clothed. Unlike before she doesn’t feel the sharp pain anymore.

Jongin was quick to follow, cause he’s so fucking horny, also it turns him on when she begs on him. The guy carried the woman again but to the bed this time. Her legs spread wide. Then, thrusting, he went from 1 to 100, devilishly slow to devilishly fast. She was panting from the pleasure she’s receiving. She arched her back, ‘cause holy fuck if someone can give you as good of a sex Mr. Kim Jongin can, you will arch your back no matter what. “Fuck Jongin, fuck! Daddy oh my God!” She moaned loudly, then, she could feel a knot forming on her stomach. All from this intense pleasure of course.

Jongin did not hesitate to make her cum. The girl deserves it. Since this horny bastard is still not going to cum any minute now. Even when (Y/N), his little girl - correction his wife, already spat out her sticky come and is currently riding her orgasm, the horny fuck still fucks her real good. “Daddy, I'm too sensitive!” She moaned at him as she tried to remove his coat from him.

While still roughly thrusting into her pussy, damn! This guy has God-level stamina, he proceeded to get his hands from her back and tear his own shirt. Out of more raging impatience, he tore her panties apart too. He kicked his own pants and now he is completely naked. He started thrusting harder than ever, earning a moan from (Y/N) who was writhing with sensitivity. “Daddy, ah! Fuck, please Jongin faster”

The young lady is about to release her own come as well. “Damn I waited so long to touch you… I’ve waited three damn years to touch you” The man exclaimed. He really waited that long to actually have sex with her. - He punishes her by butt spanking, but never sex. When he’s needy, he always asks her for oral sex. When she’s the one needy, he fingers her, but never inserts his gigantic length in her.

“Fuck! You felt so good, it was all worth it!” Jongin moaned louder as the young girl digs her sharp painted nails in his back, whimpering and silently moaning his name like a mantra. Encouraging Jongin to just slam his length on her a bit harder as his pace was getting quite slow.

His cock buried deep into her slit even more. But as much as the two don’t want the fun to stop, Jongin ends up cumming on her little pussy. It also timed in with the young woman’s release, coating his monster cock “Baby…” He hugged her tightly as he flipped their positions. (Y/N) is now on top of him, his back on the comfortable mattress. With his skillful hands, he started removing the corset from her body. Unhooking it one by one, earning a moan from the young one.

“Am I really too young for you?” She asked him. She was blushing way redder than any tomatoes. Of course, she would ask that, with their unbearable age gap of 10 years. He was distracted when he saw her small boobs pop from the restraints of the corset. It was small, yes, but Jongin likes it enough. As much as he likes sexy ladies, he does not really go for the tits. He’s an ass guy. Everyone knows that for sure.

“No… baby girl, you’re just right.” Jongin kissed her boobs and started sucking on them. Just like that, he can earn a moan from her. Everything he does turns this horny bitch on. Then, he drifted on her neck, sucking it in. Since her beautifully curled hair was getting out of the way, she grabs a conveniently placed black hair tie on the Narra wood nightstand.

When her hair was sloppily tied, Jongin began planting butterfly kisses on her collarbone. Earning a moan from the little girl. He found her sensitive spot and left a hickey on the area. “Round 2?” Jongin asked, smirking, he was turned on yet again when he saw his cum dripping all over her. It was dripping all over her little pussy, Jongin was fine with it, her pussy had sparse pubic hair over it, but nothing is different. - He saw her grow in every aspect.

“Oh my God, really…” She smirked at him as she got on the other side of the bed. She grabbed one of the white pillows, laying her head on it. Then, she lifted her ass up, laying her head on the pillow, looking into Jongin’s eyes. She wanted Jongin to fuck her doggy style this time.

Jongin was immediate to respond. He stood on his knees and got on her ass. “Baby girl, wanna film ya?” He asked her in a very seducing voice, slapping her. If (Y/N) can seduce, definitely Jongin sounds like he’s a sex God or something with his seducing abilities. He’s absolutely charming indeed. That is the reason why she fell in love with him.

She immediately responded to him, smirking, “Sure daddy”, Jongin immediately grabbed his phone from the nightstand and opened his camera app. His member was showing as well as (Y/N)’s ass, which he slapped. When the video started rolling, she was moaning loudly as he thrust his member yet again in her hole. He can never get enough of her. It gained, even more, moans from the young lady.

"Daddy… Please… I'm near." The young girl begged. He thrust harder as he started rubbing her clit with his calloused fingers. She started gripping onto the bedsheet as she arched her back. Jongin growled as he could feel her g-spot. He moved his phone on the nightstand, the camera still rolling in front of them.

Her velvety pink walls clenching at every thrust he makes. "(Y/N), you're so tight… please know that I love you!" He told her as he got his cock out of her tight hole and entered his three big fingers in her little hole. He went on her back, the said fingers snaked on her hole. He started roughly thrusting his fingers back and forth on her.

Legs spread as wide as ever, (Y/N) arched her back and gripped on the silky bedsheet. Arching her back so sexily in front of the beast that is devouring her. Her eyes rolled above with so much pleasure he is giving to her. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I think I am in heaven!" Her soft yet fragile voice said. His fingers had thrust enough and just as expected, watery substance started to leak out of her pussy. It was like an explosion."Fuck! You cum so well!" Jongin expressed.

Then, he moved out. He walked in front of her as his tongue went on her pussy to leak her cum clean. "Daddy is so good with his tongue, isn't he? Ah..." (Y/N) teasingly said with a moan as her fingers ran through his silky black hair. His hands opening her legs wide. - Showing her milky thighs. When he finished licking all of her cum clean, "You're so delicious." Jongin said as he licked his fingers in front of her.

Right after he cleaned his fingers, "Are you ready?" He suddenly asked her. "Yes." She firmly answered, panting heavily on the bed. She can feel her body shaking with all the action they did.

"Let's continue, this time, privately," Jongin said with a smirk

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Petrichor

Two

"Cupid must have wrote a love story in the dark. Oh, sloppy Cupid. Doomed us from the start."

"Walk me through it one more time." Yeri's lip quivered as she tried not to laugh. And she was trying really, really hard.

"No, you're going to laugh." A petulant pout overtook Chaeyoung's lips. It's an odd look on her. She's sitting in a desk chair that anyone else would probably describe as something just shy of a throne. And she's dressed head to toe in an Armani suit that someone else picked out for her.

Yeri, her assistant, shook her head profusely. If she was going to laugh, she would have done it already. She was simply holding it in for Chaeyoung's sake. If it were anyone else she would have cracked up in their face, but her boss seemed quite miffed with the situation.

"I promise I won't." She insisted. Rosé narrowed her eyes, then sighed. She grabbed her heart-shaped stress ball off of her mahogany desk. She threw it into the air once, twice, three times before speaking.

"I saw her walk in and may or may not have dropped a 15 pound weight on my toe. She got on the elliptical and it wouldn't work, so I decided that was my opening. I walked over, kicked it with the same probably broken foot, then I asked her out. There." Rosé glared at her assistant who snickered profusely.

"Now hold on. You're forgetting a part." Yeri looked down at the legal pad that had been sitting in her lap. She perused the page before tapping on a particular spot.

"Ah hah! You pulled a business card out of your fucking gym shorts like an absolute psychopath." This must be the final nail in the coffin as she finally howled in laughter, "I'm surprised any of that actually worked. Are you sure she gave you her actual number and not someone else's? Like a cop's?"

"We'll address the fact that you're taking notes on my love life in your quarterly evaluation, but to answer your question I have no idea. I completely embarrassed myself in front of her, but she was smiling like she found it cute."

Yeri eyed the look on her employer's face, "You know I'm just messing with you, Rosie. I'm sure you completely charmed her. Besides, there's only one way to find out." Yeri nodded her head towards Chaeyoung's personal phone which had been haphazardly placed on top of a stack of meeting notes.

"You're right. I need to redeem myself." Chaeyoung grabbed her phone, and searched for your name in her contacts.

Yeri rolled her eyes. Alphas were so weird. She's about to leave the office and give Rosé some semblance of privacy, when a framed picture, sitting on one of the many counters in the room, catches her eye.

"Hey, Rosie. Hate to burst your bubble, but are we just supposed to act like Joy doesn't exist?"

Rosé gave a heavy pause, she sighed and looked up at Yeri, "We've been broken up for two months, so yes we are supposed to pretend like she doesn't exist."

"Yeah, but I don't know if that's how that works."

Rosé sounded tired when she spoke next, "Just drop it, Yeri." She ran a hand through her blonde hair.

Yeri sighed and shook head, "Fine. Don't forget you have a meeting with Spectrum at 12:30 this afternoon."

"I won't. Thank you." Yeri let the door close behind her.

~•~

"Could you knock for once? What if I was naked?" Jisoo frowned as she padded into her livingroom, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"Why would you walk around naked? You're roommates with a two year old alpha. She'd most definitely try to punch you in the dick." The intruder exclaimed as she pushed passed Jisoo into the kitchen area.

"Roommate would imply that she pays rent. I keep telling her to get a job, but everytime I do she just stares at me then asks for more cheerios. I'm all cheerio-ed out!" Jisoo gripped her hair dramatically.

"Which is exactly why I bought you some real breakfast." As if on queue the sound of small feet slapping furiously against hardwood is heard.

"How do you keep escaping your jail cell?" Jisoo asked, peering down at her daughter with a confused glare.

"Stop calling her crib a jail cell."

"There's bars. I lock those bars. And she's supposed to not be able to get out of those bars. Sounds plenty like a jail cell to me. One time she even ran her sippy cup along the bars and started playing the harmonica."

"Aunt 'Rene!" Lia shouted. She had a wonderful knack for distracting her aunt so she didn't choke her mother to death.

"Hi, Lia. Are you hungry?"

Lia nodded happily.

"She likes to act like she'll starve here. I feed you, too." Lia just stared blankly at her mother as she chewed on a piece of pancake Irene handed her.

"Anyway. Why am I here?"

Jisoo's brows furrowed, "I don't know. You just showed up."

"No. You texted me last night asking me to come over."

Jisoo raised an eyebrow as she checked her phone. It was very plausible. Sounded like something she would do, but she'd be lying if she said she had any recollection of doing it.

The One With The Kid : v v upset. Told cutteeee omega me lifes storie. Wanna sEx her but Jenn3i look at me mean. Pls cum huggg my. Read at 10:03 pm.

"Wow. Drunk at only ten o'clock? I might have a problem."

"You think?"

"Well, it looks like I already told you why you're here. I told a very cute omega my entire life's story and I was totally going to go home with her if Jennie hadn't have ruined it. And I was like completely sober at that point."

"Do you still want that hug?"

"Will you try to choke me?"

"Probably."

"Then yes."

"Sometimes I wonder if your child is actually parenting you instead of the other way around." Irene rolled her eyes then got to setting up the rest of the food she had brought.

"So, what actually happened last night. I'm sure Jennie threw an absolute rager." Irene chuckled at her own joke.

"Y/N made the same joke."

"Who the fu-heck is Y/N?"

"The cute omega. She walked into the kitchen, where I was hiding. We got to talking and I don't know, I just started telling her things." Jisoo explained as she calmly pulled a piece of pancake her daughter would have most definitely choked on out of her hands. She handed it back to her after ripping it in half.

"Do you think-"

"You know, I hate that question."

Irene sighed and poked at her eggs, "It has to be asked, Chu. When was the last time you voluntarily gave any type of information about yourself to a stranger?"

"Never."

"Exactly. Maybe she's the one." Irene shrugged, she eyed her best friend. Jisoo just sat silently and watched her daughter eat.

"I don't know. She saw my phone background and asked about it. And I only hesitated a little bit. She smelled great." Jisoo's eyes took on a bit of a dreamy look, and Irene just chuckled to herself.

"Did she recognize you?"

"Not at first, but I guess I said something and it jogged her memory. She said she had seen some of my videos in her classes."

Irene's eyes widened dramatically, "Oh my God, Chu. How old is she?!"

"She's friend's with Jennie and Lisa. Met them in college, so I'm assuming she's talking about Grad school." Jisoo laughed as the turmoil slowly drained from Irene's face.

"That was close. So, she knows about the kid, your job, and she still didn't run for the hills? Please, tell me you got this girl's number."

"....But you don't like it when I lie to you."

"Jisoo!" Irene admonished.

Lia, assuming this is just a game of word association yelled as well, "Mama!"

"What?! After Jennie walked in she just abruptly left. She had a class this morning." Jisoo shrugged.

"Chu, it's Saturday."

"Oh yeah."

"Then why did she leave? What did Jennie say exactly?"

"She glared at me a bit when she saw me with her. She said Lisa had been looking for Y/N, but Y/N didn't really seem to care. Then Jennie left. Y/N said that was weird, then she said she had to go. That was it. I think she noticed Jennie being weird to me, and it scared her off somehow."

Irene nodded as she listened, "Why was Jennie glaring at you anyway? I thought you guys were cool with each other again."

"I never try to venture into Jennie's mind. I imagine I'd go insane. I think she was just being an alpha really. She probably thought she had an obligation to protect her." Jisoo shrugged once more, "It's okay. If I really wanted her number I'd just get it from Lisa."

"You should really want her number."

Jisoo didn't say anything. She just chewed the inside of her lip as she continued to monitor her daughter's eating.

~•~

"Should I have dressed up a little more?" You asked, self consciously looking down at your sweater and skinny jeans.

"Oh, no! Sorry, I just came from work." Rosé gestured at her suit with a nonchalant wave of her hand.

"Well you look nice."

"So do you." Rosé smiled at you softly. She held the door opened for you.

"Did you want anything?" Chaeyoung gestured to the menu floating over the baristas heads.

"Um, sure a white chocolate mocha, please."

Chaeyoung nodded, "An excellent choice. I think I discovered the drug of coffee back in college. A white chocolate mocha was my gateway drug into plain black. I'm thinking about enrolling my self into coffee-holics anonymous."

You laughed lightly, "I totally understand. I don't think I'd pass my midterms if I didn't have at least two shots of espresso on study nights."

Chaeyoung placed your orders and patiently waited for it to be filled, "What are you studying?"

"I'm earning my master's in education. Would love to be an administrator some day." A big smile spread across your face and Rosé couldn't help but find it contagious.

"You'd make a wonderful administrator one day, I'm sure." When the order is ready, Rosé retrieved them and lead the two of you toward an alcove in the back of the coffeeshop.

"Thank you. Everyone thinks I'm crazy for staying in school so long."

"Do you think it will be beneficial for you in the long run?" Rosé asked as she took a sip of her black coffee.

"Absolutely."

"Then fuck what they think." Rosé said matter of factly. There's a spark in your eye that sort of snatched her breathe right out of her chest.

"That's a bit easier said than done. But, enough about me. What do you do that's got you so dressed up?"

Chaeyoung's eyes widened a bit. She was hoping that she could avoid that question. People always seem to freak out a bit when they realize she'd could probably buy a private island for them if she wanted to.

"I work at a marketing agency. Royal Collective."

"That large as fuck building like right next to central park?!" You asked excitedly. You walked passed that place all of the time. And it was hard to miss, considering it was one of the taller buildings around instead of normal glass windows, the windows had curated, colorful graffiti all over them.

"That's the one." Chaeyoung prided herself on keeping her financial status private. Not many people knew who ran Royal Collective and it was going to stay that way.

"That must be so cool. Does your office have a nice view?"

"It does ac-" Rosé is cut off by the sound of her phone ringing. She sighed discreetly.

"I'm sorry. I have to take this." She stepped a few feet away, and answered the phone.

"I know you're on your little date but we're going to need you to come back in. The CEO of Spectrum is having a tantrum in your office." Yeri's voice does sound apologetic, but she can also hear the humor as she listened to the grown man in the other room scream and cry.

"I'll be there soon." Rosé hung up the phone, then took a deep breath. She turned back around toward you with a slight grimace.

"I'm so sorry. But there's an emergency at work and I have to handle it. Do you mind if we cut this short?"

You stood up quickly, "Not at all. I understand."

Rosé sighed in relief, "Thank you. I'll call you." She kissed you on the cheek before all but sprinting out of there.

You blushed heavily.

~•~

You hated Sundays. Somehow, they're your busiest day of the week. Which, doesn't make sense because you don't have classes on Sundays.

Though, this Sunday is serving to be a bit better than the rest. You were able to get the rest of your classwork done the previous day, so you were free to do whatever you wanted.

You eventually decided on going to your favorite pizza place. It's only around the corner from your apartment, and you've got cravings.

You walked into the small hole in the wall a bit preoccupied with your phone.

You all but rammed into someone just as you crossed the threshold. You're about to lose your balance, when the person grabbed your waist firmly.

"Where's the fire?"

Your looked up with a gasp. Maybe if you weren't so close you'd have something more articulate to say other than "Oh".

"Sorry, Jisoo." You breathed out. Jisoo just chuckled lightly before letting you go.

"It's okay. You might want to look up from your phone at least once next time, though."

You blushed heavily and looked down in embarrassment. It's then that you realized Jisoo isn't alone.

You smiled softly at the small girl hiding partly behind her mother's legs.

"Hello, I'm sorry I ran into your mom, but she's firm. I'm sure she's fine." Lia looked up to her mother for confirmation. Jisoo gave the child a thumbs up.

Lia waddled out from behind her mom. She seemed interested in you for about two more seconds before the claw machine tucked in the corner catches her eye.

"Hm. Normally she hates meeting new people." Jisoo watched as her daughter toddled over to the machine she couldn't reach.

"Kids can be odd." You shrugged, as if it was as easy as that.

"So...come here often?" Jisoo wondered if there was a set of subway stairs she could throw herself down, because what the fuck was that?

"Yes, actually. I live around the corner, and Sal here has the best pizza in this entire state." You nodded toward the owner of the restaurant.

"Never been here before actually. One of my friend's recommended it."

"Smart friend."

"Irene has her moments." Jisoo shrugged. Speaking of Irene, now was her chance. Irene would murder her in cold blood if she found out Jisoo had the opportunity to get your number and then didn't.

"Uh, did you want to maybe-can I get your number?" Those subway stairs have to be close, right?

"Yeah. If you hadn't have said anything, I probably would have asked for yours." Jisoo handed you her phone and watched deftly as you put your number in.

"I would have said yes." The pair laugh until they're interrupted by your phone ringing.

You pulled it out of your back pocket and took a glimpse at the screen.

'Rosé🥀🌹' flashed across it.

It's then that you realize you have a problem.

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Business, Torture and Pleasure (Clierra multi chap fic)

Sierra is a Team Rocket Leader who has it all: A great job with amazing pay, a nice apartment and the envy of Team Rocket Grunts. The downside? She must submit to her lustful boss Giovanni to keep it all. Will she find love in her coleader Cliff or will it fall apart at Giovanni’s hands?

Warning: This fic will contain sexual abuse, sexual assault, physical abuse and gaslighting. You have been warned.

(Chapter One) (Chapter Two) (Chapter Three) (Chapter Four) (Chapter Five) (Chapter Six) (Chapter Seven) (Chapter Eight) (Chapter Nine) (Chapter Ten) (Chapter Eleven) (Chapter Twelve) (Chapter Thirteen) (Chapter Fourteen) (Chapter Fifteen)

Chapter Sixteen: It’s Over...Or Is it?

“Where’s Sierra?” Cliff growled.“I know you have her!”

“Oh Cliff, I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Giovanni exclaimed.“You dare accuse me of keeping a secret?”

“Don’t give me that Tauros crap!” Cliff roared, punching that bastard’s desk.“Where. Is. She?!”

“You really wanna know?” Giovanni asked.“You’re on speaker.”

“Cliff!” Cliff relaxed slightly as he heard Sierra sob, but his heart broke at the crack in her voice, she was crying.

“Sierra, are you hurt?!” He asked.

“No, but I need you!” Sierra cried out.“Please help me!”

“Just you wait, gorgeous, I’m coming!” Cliff said, holding her good luck charm against his heart, hoping it would help him find her.“Where are you?”

“We’re in-!” A cry and a smack were heard, flaring Cliff’s already short temper.

“Don’t touch her, you fucker!” Cliff yelled.

“You want to see her alive, don’t you?” Giovanni sneered, ignoring Sierra’s protests to come back and let her talk to Cliff in the background.“Come to the unfinished building on the intersection of Smeargle Road and 6th Avenue.”

Cliff tried to calculate in his head, the only sound he heard was his heart pounding out of his chest. Finally he remembered.“The one they’re working on near the mall?”

“That’s correct. Meet me there and I’ll give you the girl as long as you do what I say.” Giovanni smirked.

“You better not be lying.” Cliff snarled.

“I’m not. Just go.” Giovanni scoffed.

Cliff hung up with a snarl. He raced back into his truck and sped down the road, clutching the tail close to him. He was going to save her, no matter the cost.

Giovanni turned to the sobbing Sierra, who had her eyes in her hand, the other clenched into a fist. He smirked.“Your knight in shining armor is on his way. Too bad you’ll never see him again after this.”

Sierra gasped, looking up at him with a glare. “Don’t you hurt him!” She yelled, pounding the ground with her fist.

“See you later, my favorite lady! I’m off!” He called back, walking away and closing the door behind him. Sierra desperately pulled at her cuff, looking for anything that would help her get it off.

“Come on, come on!!” She screamed in desperation, looking for a nail or anything to help her unlock it.

She looked at the end table that was next to her bed, she opened the drawer frantically and gasped as she saw a set of bobby pins.

“YES! THANK YOU!” She giggled out of relief, grabbing one and jamming it into the lock, trying with all her might to unlock it. Finally the cuff came loose and she rubbed her ankle quickly before getting up and running as fast as she could to the door, almost tripping but getting back up.

“DON’T YOU TOUCH HIM!” She screamed, running around and looking for Giovanni and the exit.“This must be his mansion.” She concluded, thenwidened her eyes as she remembered the conversation.

If this was his mansion, then the construction site had to be down the street! She always remembered he would brag that he would get his suits from the finest retailer and everyone knew the most expensive was at the mall.

Finding the stair case, she ran down and gasped as she saw his car pulling out and away.“NO!” She shrieked, running down, almost falling but gripping the railing.

She ran out the door with a glare. She was going to be the one to save Cliff.

Cliff got out of his truck with a glare, looking around at the unfinished building.“Where the hell are you?” He muttered to himself, being on the watch out for any movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Sierra?” He called out, in case she was nearby. But he got silence in reply.“Sierra, if you’re here, I need you to tell me.”

Sierra was there, she got there just as he said that, she smiled in relief and tears filled her eyes. She had never been so happy to see him!

“Cliff-!” She was about to squeal and run into his arms, but she gasped and hid behind a piece of unfinished wall as headlights blinded her. Giovanni exited the car, that stupid smirk on his face.

Cliff gritted his teeth as he saw the bastard.“Where’s Sierra?!” He screamed.

“Oh, she’s not here.” Giovanni sighed.“She’s...got her hands tied.”

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Cliff roared, ready to charge at Giovanni and beat the daylight s out of him.

“Ah ah, Cliff.” Giovanni chided, wagging his finger as if he were scolding a child.“You want to see her alive right?”

“Yes.” Cliff snarled, stopping himself and taking a deep breath to calm himself for Sierra’s sake.

“Then here’s what you’re going to do,” Giovanni stated, folding his arms behind his back.“You’re going to quit and leave me and Sierra alone.”

“LIKE HELL!” Cliff screamed, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

“Silence!” Giovanni yelled.

Sierra had enough. she picked up the lead pipe that was by her and clenched it.“This is it. No going back. For Cliff.” She whispered.

“Sierra and I are going to lead a happy life! She’s going to provide me with an heir, a proper one! Unlike that failure, Silver.” Giovanni practically spat his only son’s name.

“She’s not someone you can own!” Cliff snapped.

“She’s my property and I’ll do what I want with her!”

“I am NO ONE’S PROPERTY!”

Giovanni whirled around, only to be hit in the head with a pipe as hard as Sierra could deliver.

It was enough for him to be dazed for a moment before falling unconscious. Cliff’s jaw was dropped in shock before snapping out of it, catching Sierra in his arms as tightly as he could as she jumped into them.

“Sierra!”

“Oh Cliff!” She sobbed, hugging him as tightly as she could.“I thought I would never see you again!”

“I’m so glad you’re safe!” He exclaimed, gently taking her cheeks into his hands and looking at her.“Did he hurt you?”

“He slapped me, nothing he hasn’t done before.” She said, the something hit her.“You...You came here to save me.” She whispered, looking into his eyes.

“Of course I did.” He whispered back, leaning their noses together.“I love you.”

Her heart nearly stopped and her breath hitched, her whole world froze.

Did he just say what she thinks he just said?

“W-What?” She asked, barely able to speak.

He smiled gently and brushed their lips together.“I love you, truly. You’re the only woman I’ll ever want. If you’ll have me.”

Sierra smiled and her eyes filled with tears. When was the last time she was this happy?“I love you too!” She exclaimed, crashing her lips onto his, wrapping her arms around his neck.

A groan from Giovanni was heard and she broke the kiss off with a glare down at him.“Shut up!” She screamed, giving him a kick in the shoulder.

“I’ll call Jenny.” Cliff chuckled, getting his phone out.

Epilogue (Warning, NSFW ahead):

One Year Later...

Sierra panted, biting her lip.“Cliff!” She moaned, throwing her head back.

“Oh, Sierra...” Cliff groaned, hands on her hips.

Their two story, four bedroom house wasn’t even close to being fully unpacked. boxes were everywhere and furniture was askew, yet to be arranged.

“Oh Cliff, yes!” She squealed as his hands moved from her hips to her breasts, cupping and massaging them.“Oh baby, I’m close!”

“I am too,” He breathed, grippingher hands into his.“Together.”

“Always.” She sighed, leaning down so she could brush their lips together.

With a near scream, they finished, Sierra panted as she plopped onto Cliff’s chest. He hugged her close, stroking her hair with an airy chuckle.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have set up the bed first.” He said.“We don’t even have the sheets and stuff on it yet.”

“You should have known I couldn’tresist you.” She giggled, kissing his nose.“I just had to have you.”

“You’ll always have me.” He stated, kissing her nose back.“That ring proves it.”

Sierra smiled down at the heart that held half an Ametrine and half a Sapphire on her left ring finger.

Their birthstones.

It was held by a silver band and it fit perfectly on her. She loved it and him.“I can’t believe we’re getting married in a year.”

“I know. Everyone will be there. Including our new bosses, Candela, Blanche and Spark.” Cliff smirked. Ever since Giovanni had been arrested and after Sierra came out, other women had spoken up, claiming he has sexually abused and harassed them too, earning him a good long sentence with no bail.

“Arlo’s going to be there too, of course.” Sierra smiled.

Arlo had apologized to Sierra for not taking the situation as seriously as he should have. Sierra forgave him and now he works for Valor again, having made amends with Candela. He meets with them a few times a week to have lunch and catch up when he can when he’s not doing field research.

“Okay, we really should unpack.” Cliff chuckled, sitting up and holding Sierra in his lap.

“Right.” She giggled, grabbing his plaid and putting it on.“Gorgeous, I am going to run out of plaids because of you.” He teased.

“Live with it.” She teased back, hugging it close.

“Oh I will.” He said, pulling her close and kissing her passionately.

They were free.

Or so they thought...

Giovanni sat in his cell, tossing a tennis ball at the wall and catching it with a glare.

He had been in this hellhole for a year. Nothing but crappy food, crappy people and a crappy life.

He was so lucky they allowed him to keep his Persian.

Damn that Sierra and Cliff.

A man in a suit came up to his cell door, catching his attention. he stopped throwing the ball, letting it land on the floor with a thud.

“Is it done?” He asked, standing up.

“It’s done.” The man said with a nod.“Within two years, you should be out on good behavior.”

Giovanni frowned.“Was two years really all you could do?”

“It’s either that or wait five years.” The man said.

“I’ll take it.” Giovanni shrugged, sitting back down.“Thank you. I’ll pay you back when I get out.”

The man simply nodded and walked out. Giovanni began formulating a plan, trying t think of the worst ways he could hurt the two who ruined his life.

“You better watch out in two years, Grossbergs.” He snarled.“I’ll be waiting.”

--

DUN DUN DUN.

Y’ALL THIS WAS MY FIRST MULTI CHAPTER FIC IN YEARS AND I FINISHED IT.

Thank you all so so so so much for reading, commenting, and the helpful suggestions!

Huge shoutouts to @whatsupwithjinx for helping me figure out details when this was in development, @bloodcountessbathory for being patient with me and helping me a lot with the plot and my friend Phantos and my boyfriend for always reading this and telling me what they liked!! Y’all are my rocks and I appreciate you!! ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

Now...be on the look out for the sequel: Blood Ties! Coming soon!

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re: the losers having kids who become friends

Stan and Patty planned for kids; they were definitely trying before that call came. So when IT is defeated and Stan is a-okay, they finally get the babies they want. Jennifer comes first; she’s a firecracker of a kid. She’s loud and she’s uninhibited and she’s everything that would’ve exhausted Stan as a child. He adores her. He combs her hair at night before bed, and ties ribbons in her pigtails before school, and he’s so incredibly proud to be her father.

After deciding to have their two (and absolutely NO MORE) kids close together, Patty gives birth to little Andrew. He’s very much a follower, and hangs on to his sisters’ every word. She gets them into all sorts of shenanigans, and Andy is a dutiful baby brother. He’s constantly got his thumb in his mouth; which is CUTE.

Stan brags to the other losers that his kids never fight.

Bill and Mike take their time getting together; Billy has a divorce to get through after all. As soon as it’s all said and done though, they start looking to adopt. It doesn’t take long at all -- in fact, it seems like... fate. Whether it is or isn’t, Mike is awed when their little Lucy stumbles through the door.

She has a fairly large burn on the left side of her face, which will become a permanent scar. Her parents died in a car crash, which gave her the mark in the first place. Mike says she looks like an angel, which rapidly gets her out of her shell.

They adopt her as quickly as they can. Then it occurs to them, one CRUCIAL fact they didn’t quite consider: the world............. is horrifically dangerous.

Most of their time is spent keeping Lucy’s curious behind out of trouble. She’s the Tommy Pickles of the kids; danger is her middle name and she also laughs in the face of it. She’s got courage but also... no offense to Bill, but she’s got his Big Stupid. She finds a feral cat and - despite it scratching her to ribbons - she wants to take him home and give him a bath. Mike has to quickly yeet her out of the bathroom and trap the cat inside before calling animal control.

Ben and Bev? They have five (5) kids, which... is on brand. Two sets of twins; Milo and Miles, followed by Olivia and Owen, and then finally their baby, Archie.

Milo Hanscom is a sweet lil poundcake; he’s very much like his dad. If a conversation isn’t going EXACTLY how he mapped it out in his brain, he will turn and walk away with no added explanation. On the other hand, Miles is a lot like his mom. He’ll sneak cigarettes and he’s incredibly smart; he’ll swipe a bag of candy from Keene’s store and sell each piece for a quarter on the schoolyard. Bev has no idea where he gets his income, but she is SUS.

Miles and Jenny are actually best friends; as toddlers, they would go up to each other (sneak up, really), and smack each other on the heads as a greeting.

Olivia and Owen are as close as sisters can be; they have their own language, and both of them are brilliant, scholarly girls. Owen will absolutely stab anyone in the way of her GPA. They’re the masterminds when they’re babies: all those shenanigans the Rugrats get into? Owen or Olivia hatches the plan, and they have their older brothers wrapped around their fingers! So they have the muscle to back up their ideas.

Archie is the super sweet baby child. He is SCARED. Of EVERYTHING. He cried during his first haircut. Animals terrify him. As a baby, he’d sob when the sun disappeared behind clouds. Ben tried playing peekaboo with him once, and Archie was inconsolable bc“WHERE IS MY DADDY?!?” Those kawaii stress balls - the squishy things with cute faces? THOSE are harder than Archie Hanscom.

Finally, we have Richie and Eddie’s kids: Julian and Deana. Biologically (because yes, they chose surrogates), Julian is Eddie’s, whereas Deana is Richie’s. And... it kinda shows through their behavior.

Julian is the first of the Losers 2.0 to say no to his parents. His first word: No his second word: Nah-uh his third word: Nope his fourth word is stinky, but that’s neither here nor there.

HE KEEPS BREAKING SHIT. Ofc it’s an“accident.” How far can this lamp tilt? How much water is too much for the doggie bowl? How much of this lotion and toilet paper can he fit in the toilet? (He counts to twelve, but to be fair, he skips numbers 3-11 cause he doesn’t know those. “1, 2, 12.”) How much Julian can fit through the doggie door? (the answer is half)

Now Deana-- they panicked in the hospital. Eddie grabbed Richie by the shoulders and said,“Every gay couple our age has a pet or daughter named Diana. We can’t name her after the princess.” and Richie goes,“Psh, of course.” and haphazardly scrawls and“e” over the“i” on her birth certificate.

Julian is one and a half years old when he meets his baby sister, and Eddie carried him in to see the newborn infant. Her weird beady eyes terrify him, and his immediate response is to smack her lil face. This instigates their childhood long fight, because they don’t stop for the next thirteen years.

On Julian’s third birthday he asks for them to take Deana back to the hospital bc,“she’s stinky, and I hate her,” and he smiles like :D when he proposes the idea. He’s convinced Deana is broken because she refuses to eat; she’ll suck the salt off fries, and eat a lil piece of pepperoni off the pizza, but other than that, no thanks!

Now when you get all the kids together? Ultimate chaos! Jenny and Olivia lead all the others on their bikes to ride around Derry, and when Miles finds the Barrens, those girls have the brilliant idea to build a clubhouse. Ofc neither of them wanna get dirt under their nails, so they enlist Miles, Milo, Lucy, and Julian. Deana keeps trying to eat the dirt, and Julian is huffy bc he has to stop her.

Archie screams every time a bug flies by, and Lucy gives him her sweater (she knows he likes it, because it’s a pastel green and v. soft), telling him,“My daddy made this for me, and it protects you from monsters, if you believe it does.”

Throughout digging, each of the kids rotate who brings snacks and games. The Hanscom kids always have a great haul (mostly because there’s more grabby hands to raid their pantry), and everyone is so-so when it’s Julian and Deana’s turn, bc the only sugary thing in their cupboards are cereal.

While everyone’s digging (they’re about two feet into the project at this point), Andy and Owen are playing a game of scrabble. Neither of them wanted to get their hands dirty! Much to Owen’s surprise, Andy wins. She’s not a good loser, and she very huffily throws the board a couple feet away. Andy, a patient and good sport, goes to get it, when he falls through the large mound of leaves.

All the Losers 2.0 panic (Jenny“strangles” Miles as she shouts that her parents will be SO PISSED if she let the earth eat her brother), and are relieved when he pokes his little head out from the leaves. He looks excited, and he shouts,“GUYS LOOK WHAT I FOUND!”

Julian puts Deana in her wagon (which all the other babykids ride in too, so Deana, Archie, Lucy, and usually Andy) and pulls them over - with Milo’s help ofc, and Olivia is the first to venture down. She turns on a flashlight and echoes Andy’s excitement,“GUYS, LOOK!”

Climbing down the ladder, one by one, the kids marvel in complete awe at their discovery. There’s a swing, a dusty old hammock, and even a super old-looking stereo. With a little elbow grease, this hole could be turned into EXACTLY the clubhouse they wanted. Their entire summer goes to making the clubhouse a perfect hangout spot.

One night, while the original Losers Club is having a barbecue, Patty asks,“Where do you think those kids run off to all day?”

Ben fondly thinks back on the clubhouse he and his friends created together, and he can only hope his kids find something half as great. “Probably somewhere fun,” he says.

“It’s probably how it was when we were kids,” Richie says, looking at each of his friends.“The best.”

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

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inside me like my pulse

tommy miller/oc (jenny foster even tho she isnt explicitly named in this) warnings for some mention of gore / wound treatment but nothing explicit 1.5k

Summer, 2031

It was supposed to be just a routine check.

They’ve been lookin’ into gettin’ the dam to work for the last couple months — since Old James came to Jackson, really, ‘cause turns out he was a dam engineer before the outbreak — and doin’ back-and-forth trips to it every few days, just to check it out. Old James thinks it’s doable, and, yeah, Tommy’s got his reservations, but hey, if it works—

Well, anyway. They got halfway to the damned dam and bandits fell on ‘em from all sides, and Tommy got in more than a few good shots at ‘em but they still managed to knock him off’a Lucy with a shot to the side, and he’s good, seriously, but Young James and Maria and the rest ain’t lettin’ him off that easy, so.

“I can walk, y’know,” he grumbles as he’s dragged to the clinic, one arm slung over Young James’ shoulders and the other pressed tight to the wound above his hip.

Eugene snorts, arm tightenin’ ‘round Tommy’s waist. “Right, sure, and — crap, you’re heavy — and I’m the Queen of fucking Sheba.”

“If I’m so heavy, put me down.”

“If you’re so heavy, cut down on the carbs, old man,” Eugene snarks right back, and then they’re through the clinic’s door.

“Oh, for—” the doctor swears, wipin’ her hands dry on a towel and pointin’ to the bed her and Maria dragged in from one of the houses a couple days after she arrived. “Get him on the bed, now.”

“Hear that, Tommy?” Eugene grunts, him and Young James shufflin’ Tommy between them and settlin’ him where instructed. “Pretty lady wants you on the bed. You probably haven’t heard that in a while.”

Young James snorts, but the doctor — Julia? Jenna? — slams shut the door of the cabinet she’s riflin’ through hard. “I ain’t takin’ that kinda talk in my clinic, Linden. So go on, get.”

“Ma’am, he didn’t mean any disrespect—” Young James starts, always the peacemaker, but the doctor ain’t havin’ none of it.

“Don’t make me kick your ass out too, kid.” She levels a hard look at Eugene as she draws closer, pullin’ a chair up next to the bed so she’s level with Tommy. “Y’heard me.”

Eugene shoots a look Tommy’s way — can you believe this shit? — but raises his hands in palms-up appeasement. “Yes ma’am. James, you let me know how this idiot is when she’s done, alright?”

Young James — who really is young, can’t be more than twenty — nods solemnly, lingerin’ at Tommy’s other side like a mother hen.

And then Eugene’s gone, and the doctor’s lookin’ Tommy over with barely-concealed irritation. “What’ve you gone and done now, Tommy Miller?”

And shit, how’s she know his name and he ain’t know hers? He’s boutta ask, too, except then his side twinges painfully, a feelin’ like nails on a chalkboard, and he groans, curlin’ in on himself.

“He got shot, ma’am,” Young James reports helpfully, wringin’ his hands. “In— in the belly.”

The doctor scowls. “Shit. Bandits again?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She huffs, leanin’ back in her chair to reach for a pair of scissors. They ain’t surgical scissors, neither; they’re clunky, with a bright blue plastic handle, like classroom scissors — but bigger, sharper. Kitchen scissors, maybe?

“Hope you ain’t too fond of this shirt, Miller,” the doctor remarks, pushin’ on his shoulder to ease him out of his position ‘till he’s lyin’ flat and his hand’s fallin’ away from his side, and he grumbles.

“I’m passin’ly fond of it, actuall— hey!”

She starts snippin’ away at the cotton near the hem, complainin’ under her breath about the blunt blades for a couple seconds before they finally catch and slice on through, and then she’s throwin’ the scissors on the table behind her and rippin’ it the rest of the way.

“Yeah, well, too bad. Maybe next time, don’t get shot. Or wear a shirt you don’t like, if you’re gonna.”

He’d thought it hurt before, but the shirt peelin’ away from the bloody wreck above his hip is a whole other realm of agony, and he cries out, swearin’ and tightenin’ his fingers on the edges of the bed. It’s only when the fabric falls open completely that he can grit out, “could’a warned me first, Doc.”

The doctor snorts. “It’s a gunshot wound, Miller. It’s gonna hurt.” Then, to Young James: “You, get over here, help me turn him over.”

“Turn— you ain’t gotta turn me over, I’m fine!” Then, to punctuate his point, he struggles to his feet, keepin’ his swayin’ to a minimum once he’s up. “See?”

“God, I wish I got paid for this shit,” the doctor mumbles, straightenin’ to grab his shoulders — both of ‘em, this time — and shove his ass back down onto the bed. “You sit down and you stay there, Tommy Miller, or I swear t’God, a bullet in ya side’s gonna be the least’a your problems.”

He blinks up at her. She’s a pretty little thing, he realises; cheeks flushed from the heat, or maybe from him pissin’ her off, her eyes bluer than a sweet, clear Texas night, hair dark and chopped close to her jaw.

Formidable, too. His shoulders are gonna bruise.

Huh.

Once she’s happy he ain’t goin’ anywhere, she nods, then scoots her chair back so she can take a look at his back. It takes a minute or so, but eventually, she sighs. “No exit-wound. Just what I wanted to see when I woke up this mornin’.”

“Ain’t you doctors s’posed to be taught about bedside manner?” Tommy grumbles under his breath.

The doctor — what is her goddamned name? — gives him a witherin’ look, before pushin’ him so he’s lyin’ down again. “Ain’t you patients supposed to listen to your doctors?”

Tommy pulls a face, watchin’ her fine, small hands pull first one latex glove and then the other on.

“You, uh— James, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” Young James confirms, clearin’ his throat and pullin’ himself tall.

“James. I got a bottle’a whiskey in that cabinet, just behind you. Can you grab it for me?”

“Where in the hell’d you get whiskey?” Tommy wonders aloud, watchin’ Young James follow her instructions like a well-trained little puppy.

She sighs. “Charlottesville.”

“Char— why Charlottesville?”

“It was there. Thanks, kid,” she says this last to Young James, who’s retrieved the whiskey and passed it to her.

“You’re welcome,” he says, clearin’ his throat again, ears lookin’ a bit pink.

Well, shit. Tommy doesn’t know whether to laugh or roll his eyes.

Only he don’t have time to do neither, ‘cause the doc’s uncappin’ the bottle and shufflin’ closer. “Now, this is gonna hurt.”

“Wh— c’mon, don’t I at least get a sip first? Anaesthetic, that kinda thing?”

She sighs again, lookin’ half like she wants to clock him in the jaw, before passin’ it over. It burns on the way down, behind his teeth and all the way to his belly, but it’s a good kinda burn. Better than the one in his fuckin’ side, at least, Jesus.

The whiskey makes a sloshin’ sound against the glass when he passes it back to her, and that’s the last thing he thinks for several seconds, ‘cause then she pours it over his wound and shit does that hurt.

“Motherfucker,” he wheezes once the world sharpens again, hands fistin’ in his jeans, back archin’ like he’d been kicked in the goddamn gut. “I’m— I’m gonna throw up.”

“James, get a bucket.”

“Can do, ma’am.”

“Alright,” the doctor sighs, combin’ one gloved hand over his hairline. He focuses on the feelin’ of her fingers against his scalp, breathin’ steadily through his nose like some lightweight teenager boutta hurl. “Easy. Worst part’s over.”

“W— worst part?” Tommy laughs throatily, pressin’ the back of his hand to his mouth to try and stop the bile he can feel swirlin’ in his belly from spewin’ right into her pretty face. “Yeah, you ain’t kiddin’.”

“Betcha regret the whiskey now, huh?”

Tommy groans.

Young James must’ve found one of the horse-feed buckets outside, ‘cause when he comes back, his footsteps are joined by the clang of metal against tile. “You doing okay, boss?”

Tommy waves his hand vaguely in the air. “Right as rain, Jim.”

Young James wrinkles his nose. “I asked you not to call me that.”

“We ain’t done yet, y’know,” the doctor interrupts, and when Tommy looks at her, she’s slidin’ some thread through a needle.

“Wh— wait, ain’t you gonna take the bullet out?”

She sighs, bitin’ her lip as she casts those bright eyes over Tommy’s whole form. “You ain’t pale, and you’re bitchin’ enough you’re clearly alert, so I don’t think you’re bleedin’ too much inside. Don’t wanna go diggin’ and fuck somethin’ up.”

After a sec, she hums, then leans in and presses two fingers to Tommy’s neck. He blinks up at her, then back to her pale wrist, which is all he can see of her hand at this angle. Her gloves are all rubbery and weird-feelin’ on his skin, but her fingertips are warm and firm, unyieldin’ against his skin.

“Nah,” she says eventually, and Tommy starts, meetin’ her eyes. “Your pulse ain’t weak. It’s strong, actually— you got a fast heart.”

Tommy clears his throat, meets Young James’ eyes. Yeah, tell me about it, he thinks, and then: aw, shit, I can’t even make fun of him now.

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Before (Podrick Payne x Reader) *SMUT*

MASTERLIST

Part 2 - After

Pairing: Podrick Payne x Reader

Word Count: 2112

Warnings: Swearing, SEX, unprotected sex (please be safe!), fingering, cum

A/N: This can maybe be read as a sequel to My Hero, but can also just be read on its own. Also, yay! I’m back from vacation, so here you go guys!

You had been travelling with Brienne of Tarth and Podrick for months, joining them as they made their way back to Winterfell. You had been born in the Westerlands, and admittedly weren’t fond of the cold. You shivered, trying to keep your teeth from chattering. You wrapped your arms around Pod even tighter, pressing yourself closer to him on the back of the horse you currently shared.

“Y/N,” said Pod,“are you alright?”

“Y-yea,” you said, stuttering as you shivered.“I’m just cold. The North has always been cold, but with Winter here I’m going insane.”

“My Lady,” called Pod to Brienne,“could we rest for a moment? I have an idea.”

“I’m not a lady,” replied Brienne grudgingly.“But yes, Pod. We need to make it quick though, we need to return to Lady Sansa in Winterfell.”

The three of you stopped and Pod got off his horse. As you moved to slide off as well, he stopped you.

“Scoot forward,” he said. You cocked your head in confusion but did as he asked. As you did so he remounted the horse, only this time he was behind you. He retook the reigns in his hands, surprising you as he wrapped his arms around you to do so.“Thank you My Lady, we may continue.”

“Pod, how many times do I have to tell you that I am not a lady?” Questioned Brienne, her tone tense. Nonetheless, you rode on back to Winterfell.

Podrick had been right. As you rode back you were significantly warmer. His arms around you made you feel much better, and his hot breath fanning on your neck made you heat up even more. You had had a crush on Podrick for a long time, but you never would have told him that. In your eyes, you were just some lowly girl from the Westerlands. You were sure that is how you were seen in his eye too.

You knew that Pod could get any girl he wanted. You’d heard stories, rumors, whispers about his bedroom prowess. Everybody knew that he had returned Lord Tyrion’s money from the brothel after the ladies there refused it. He had done something so amazing to them that he enjoyed their time for free. You had to admit that this intrigued you. Despite your best efforts there were many nights that you would lie awake, imagining what he might have done. These thoughts did nothing to cure your childlike crush on the boy, in fact they made it worse. You loved that he was sweet and shy on the outside, but knowing that he had a darker side in the bedroom turned you on.

When you finally returned to Winterfell, everybody was rushing around like mad. The Night King and his army were almost here. Overhearing yelling and commotion in the crowd you concluded that you likely only had 24 hours as a maximum before the Night King was at your doorstep. You bid Podrick and Brienne a goodbye before quickly making your way back to your room to change. Your dress had gotten dirty on the journey, and you’d be damned if you didn’t spend what may be your last hours looking good.

You changed hurriedly into a deep purple dress that Sansa had made. The neckline was lower than that of dresses that you usually wore, but you decided that now was a good a time as any to wear it.

Your braids had become messy during your ride, so you took them out. You had beautiful hair, opting to leave it down instead of taking the time to re-braid it.

Making your way through the castle you heard a loud voice echoing down one of the hallways. You recognized it instantly, only one man would be talking as loud as this when he wasn’t angry. Tormund.

You made your way towards his voice. You had never had any issues with Tormund despite him being a wildling and you wouldn’t mind seeing him before the battle began.

You rounded the corner, finding Tormund and a group of others listening to his story. You only caught the tail end, but you heard something about giants and breast milk. You figured you didn’t want to ask him to repeat it. The expressions on the faces of everybody else in the room alerted you that the story was a rather uncomfortable one for everybody other than Tormund. Among the group was Podrick, and you made your way to sit next to him. You thought you had seen him glance down at your more exposed cleavage, but surely you were mistaken. Right?

“Good evening, Pod.” You said with a smile. He returned your smile with one of his own that made your heart melt. You did your best to conceal your blush, turning towards the fire.

“Good evening Y/N.”

The group made mindless small talk for some time before Tormund asked Brienne if she was a knight. You were angry as she told him why she wasn’t; she was a woman. You couldn’t help but beam as she was knighted by Ser Jaime Lannister, becoming Ser Brienne of Tarth. Brienne herself even smiled, warming your heart. She rarely smiled, so seeing her beam so brightly was a treat. You returned to small talk for a while after the makeshift ceremony until Tyrion proposed a song.

At first, everybody was quiet. But then you heard his voice; the voice coming from the man beside you. The man that you had an undeniable crush on.

He had the voice of an angel, and you couldn’t help but stare in awe as Podrick sang one of your favorite songs,“Jenny of Oldstones.” He glanced at you as the song finished, making you blush. Surely he had noticed your eyes on him the entire time.

Everybody began retiring to their rooms or other places in the castle, with you deciding to try and get what little rest you could. Podrick offered to walk you to your room and you accepted. You wanted to spend all the time with him that you could.

As you reached your door you let out a sigh. As time kept ticking away you grew more scared, more afraid of the battle to come. Even if you survived in the crypts, Podrick would be out on the battlefield. You knew that you would be worrying about him the entire time.

You glanced up into Podrick’s dark eyes, thinking of an idea.

“Pod,” you asked hesitantly.“Would you like to stay?”

His eyes grew wide and a blush spread across his cheeks. He didn’t say a word, but he did enter the room behind you. He closed the door behind him.

You began to undress, feeling Pod’s eyes on your body. You flushed a bright red. Perhaps he had gotten the wrong idea...

“Could you turn around,” you mumbled. He blushed and did as you asked as you stripped down to your undergarments.

You slid into bed, covering yourself in the furs lying there.

“You don’t have to sleep in your armor Pod,” you said softly.“I’ll close my eyes if you want.”

Podrick paused for a moment.

“You don’t have to.”

You flushed a bright red as Podrick began to undress. Now that he was, you weren’t sure you could look away if you tried. His body was absolutely stunning. He had toned muscle in all the right places and it was making you wild. He smirked at you, only deepening your blush. Soon after, he slid into bed next to you.

You shifted closer to him. As you did so, he reached out to wrap an arm around you and pull your head closer to his chest until you were laying against him.

“Pod?” You whispered.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Thank you for staying with me tonight. I just didn’t want to be alone with everything going on.”

Podrick chuckled, sending vibrations through his chest. You could feel them well thanks to your closeness.

“Of course I would keep you company. I would do anything for you.”

His words sent a wave of comfort, and yet arousal, through your entire being. Maybe that wrong idea he had gotten was right after all.

“Anything?” You asked, pulling away to look him in the eyes. His eyes were dark, and they were wide. His eyes were full of lust.

“Anything.”

And with that word, your lips crashed to his as he moved to meet you in the middle. He moved so that he was propped up on his arms over top of you, bending down to press his lips to yours. Your lips moved fervently and feverishly, as if this was the only chance you had. With everything going on in Winterfell, it very well might have been.

You snaked around Podrick, trailing your nails up his back. He let out a groan, making you gasp in response. You tangled your fingers in his hair. You let out a moan as you felt Pod’s hard member brush against your core. Through your undergarments you could feel him grind into you, slowly picking up in speed and pressure.You let out a soft moan, only encouraging the man.

He pulled his hips away, ghosting his fingers down your body until they reached where you needed him most. He ran his fingers softly over your core, feeling you through the only layer you had left on.

“Gods you’re so fucking wet for me.”

You couldn’t help but let out a moan at his words, bucking your hips towards his hand. Hearing the normally innocent and shy Podrick curse as he touched your body put you right up on cloud nine.

Before you knew it, Podrick had pulled your remaining undergarments off as well as his own. He brushed the head of his cock against your now exposed cunt, teasing you. You grabbed his shoulders tightly, digging in your nails in anticipation.

“Please Pod,” you whimpered. His eyes filled with even more of that lustful fire that you loved.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

“Yes Podrick, please just go inside me,” you moaned. He did quickly, although he gave you time to adjust to the feeling of his dick inside your pussy.

It hurt at first, and you buried your face into Podrick’s neck. He was panting heavily, and you could tell how much willpower it was taking him to not fuck you already.

He started to move slowly, rocking his hips back and forth just a little bit. Quickly the movement became pleasurable, eliciting moans and gasps from that pretty mouth of yours that Podrick couldn’t help but bring his lips back to again. One of his hands reached up towards your breasts, kneading gently for a while before he began to run his fingers over your sensitive nipples. He would flick a finger over quickly a few times, then slowly graze your nipple as he circled the areola. He fell into a pattern with his fingers and his cock that was driving you crazy, feeling heat rush through your whole body.

He moved his fingers from your breasts, making you whimper as he slowly caressed down your stomach to your hips, eventually settling on your clit. He rubbed his thumb over the sensitive bud in time with his thrusts, making you moan loudly.

“Podrick!” You cried, making him falter and let out a load moan himself.

You felt his thrusts getting faster as he pounded into you harder and harder. You only got louder as the pressure on your clit increased and he began attacking your neck. Surely he would be leaving marks that would be there in the morning, but in the moment it felt so good that you didn’t care. He began to groan more, panting even louder as he reached his climax.

“Pod,” you cried again, sending him over the edge. You felt him spill his seed into you, pushing you over your own edge quickly as he continued to thrust sloppily and rub your swollen clitoris.

He pulled out after you had both finished, rolling over onto his back. He reached over to you, pulling you onto his chest. You felt him bend down, giving you a kiss on the top of your head.

“Pod?” You whispered.

“Yes Y/N?”

“You better keep yourself alive for me. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t get to do that again.” You flashed a dorky smile up at Pod, earning a dopey smile in return.

“Don’t worry Y/N, we’re going to be doing this a lotmore from now on.”

You weren’t going to argue with that.

Part 2 - After

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